(OOC) Logs!
So, I was going to put an IC entry here along with the logs. But it's almost 1:30 am here, and I'm kind of tired. So I can't really think. I'll put an entry up tomorrow, though. ^_^ Enjoy!
<< XS >> Kitchen - Lv1
Meant to service a large number of people, this kitchen is vast, with more than one oven and several stainless steel work surfaces. Inset into the ceiling are fluorescent glow strips, throwing everything into bright, if somewhat harsh light. At meal times, kitchen workers scurry to and fro with pans and food and various other sundry items. But out of those times, everything is in its place, and there's even a tray of cold snacks for those who might come in search of a bite to eat.
[Exits : [Pat]io, and [H]allway ]
[Players : Paige ]
As the evening progresses, activity around the school tends to slow down as the various students head out to their own parties, sight-seeing, and so forth. Some of them, however, have been too busy with work to enjoy such free time, let alone the comfort of food. So, it is little surprise when Quark saunters into the kitchen after coming home from work, hoping to enjoy a good ol' sandwich and whatever junk food he can get his hands on. Which, knowing this school, is not much. Setting his green hat and apron from his work uniform down on the counter, he opens the cupboard and glances around, trying to find some things to eat. His stomach growls quietly in anticipation.
Heading into the kitchen, Paige is dressed in a pair of comfy pants and a simple shirt, wearing a big grin on her face. She is humming along with that song: That thing you do, under her breath, snapping her fingers as she goes. "Hey Chris." She calls over with a bright grin on her face, wiggling her fingers in his direction. "You smell like Frappuchino."
Quark glances up as Paige approaches, and cannot help but grin at the glee emanating from Paige. "Hey there," he offers, grabbing some bread out of the cupboard and the other ingredients he needs to make a traditional, tried-but-true peanut butter and jelly sandwich--a dinner of champions, surely. He fumbles for a knife from a drawer, and then stares at it ruefully, as if unsure of how to use it. These dang bandages on his hands make using any sort of fine tool a pain in the neck; once again, he finds himself wishing he had telekinetic powers. Oh well. "You seem awfully giddy tonight," he comments in an inquisitive manner, a curious grin on his face as he sticks the knife into the peanut butter jar and then tries to scrape it onto his piece of bread without stabbing right through it. "What's up?" he asks her, a look of mild concentration on his face.
"I am bored, have way too much pent up energy and looking to get out for a bit." Paige says as she pulls her hair back behind her place, then snatches up the knife from your hand, hipping you to the side. She shoos you away, then starts making you a sandwich. "I think the bandages can come off." She admits. "Typically stitches are OK on their own and you don't need to keep them wrapped up." After pressing the gooey pieces of bread together, she hands it over to you after slicing the crusts off, then offers up a bright, amused grin upon her face. "You didn't bring me any coffee." She pouts.
Quark blinks and mock-glares at Paige, but allows himself to be bumped out of the way. He crosses his arms and watches her finish making the sandwich, replying to her as she does so, "Well, Dr. McCoy told me to keep them on for a week, so I'm going to do just that. They're not just for the stitches, you know--have to keep ointment and stuff for the cuts and stuff." He glances down at the sandwich and back up at her as she cuts the crust off, adding with a rueful grin, "You know, that's the /healthy/ part. But thanks for finishing it for me, though." He takes a grateful bite out of the sandwich, nodding his approval before he heads over to the fridge to look for something to drink. "You didn't ask for any, silly," he grins back. "And I smell like frappuccinos because that's what everyone seemed to try tonight. Especially that new one, the Green Tea frappuccino." He grimaces slightly, shaking his head. "It's not that great, to be honest with you."
"I think that one is not good at all. I like the carmel one, its sweeter." Paige says as she pops a piece of crust into her mouth, chewing playfully as she stares up at you with a big grin on her face. "I've had tons ah' stitches an ah' nevah left bandages on fo' more than a day or two. Ah'm sure you'll be OK." She reaches over and tugs on your sleeve a bit, then says. "I'm hungry for real food. Lets go out and snag something."
"That, and the caramel one doesn't taste like spinach or grass or something," he nods with a grin. "Well, I am quite stubborn, and I will follow my doctor's orders as commanded. Maybe they'll heal better, or be less likely to scar or something." At the not-so-subtle suggestion that they head out to the town and get dinner together, he pauses for a moment, though, using his half-eaten sandwich as an excuse for silence. Is he safe to admit that now she /is/ trying to flirt with him, to ask him out on an unofficial date? Or is she just trying to be friendly? He shrugs, taking another satisfying bite of his sandwich. Maybe it's a bit of both. "Well, I just got home from work," he points out. Pondering, he frowns and continues, "Besides, didn't you already have dinner plans with that one friend of yours? Jonny, or Justin, or whatever his name was? Or was that earlier in the week?" He takes another bite of his sandwich. Ah, silence is golden.
"Justin and ah' went out last night. It was so fun." Paige says with a big grin on her face, sighing happily. ".. He kissed me." Twirl. She spins about on one foot, then gives him another tug of his sleeve. "We went to a place called the Empire, an Italian joint and he gave me a rose made of Chrome. That's what he does." She says. "He can touch things and turn it into metal. Its so cool." Sighing out, she slowly breathes. "He was really romantic too, couldn't believe it."
Quark grins and roooollls his eyes. Well, that answers his question. Both of them, actually. She had dinner /last/ night, and she's obviously not flirting with him if she's already in a relationship. So, he has no reason to feel awkward if he chooses to spend some time with her, right? Right! Nodding and finally making his decision, he replies, "Well, then I guess you haven't eaten much for dinner tonight, then. Sure, I'd love to grab some food, then." He coughs and shakes his head ruefully, adding, "Although, from the sounds of it, it'll be hard to top last night. Hah." He shuts the fridge door and cupboard, and makes sure his wallet is in his pocket before stating aloud, "Alright, dinner's on me, then. Where would you like to go?"
"PFff. Quark, you had me at hello." Paige says as she loops her arm into his, giving him a tug as she starts leading him off and out of the kitchen. She even goes so far to lock her hand in his, fingers twining. Aw, how cute! "Ah'm starving tho'. Ah' got mah' butt kicked by Logan most ah' the' day in training and shaved another three seconds off'ah'mah mile run. This time ah' wasn't even breathing that hard. Sooooo..." She says, snapping a blue gaze up to him. "Where are we eating at?"
Quark grins at her use of that quote, commenting, "You know, I still haven't seen that movie. Jeremy Maguire, I mean." Assuming she knew where that quote was from. He blushes ever so slightly as she starts to act all...girly on him, but finds himself enjoying it. No, he reminds himself, she's already in a relationship. Stop getting crazy ideas like that. Besides, how can you top a chrome rose? That's annoyingly brilliant. "Another three seconds? Damn, you already had me beat by a good twenty to begin with. I'm going to have to jog more," he grins. "Actually, it's kind of odd. I find that the older I get and the more physically fit I am, the easier it is to teleport a larger load with me. That's one of the main reasons I started working out more, actually. I used to get terribly drained whenever I took someone with me, but now, it only makes me a little out of breath." But...enough about him! Let's talk about you! "I'll take you anywhere you want to go. I like all kinds of food, so I don't mind. Really. And it's my treat." Thank God he got his paycheck a few days ago. "And, if you'd like, I can even get us there within a few minutes. Or at least most of the way," he shrugs with a mischievous grin.
"Ah'dunno Chris, teleporting on the first date is kinda risque'." Paige teases as she sneaks a mischevious look to his eyes, winking. "An, ah' never saw it either, but ah' heard it on VH1 last night during their one hundred top cheesy movie moments." She seems so confident for some reason as she walks with you, giving a quick grin to some girls that pass by, saying fast hellos and goodbyes. See, Quark is a trophy guy on her hand, really! "So, Chris.. why did you and Noren break up for? You're a real nice guy... she must be brain damaged or something." Lets not talk about her, lets talk about you! Merry Go Round.
Quark instantly does a doubletake and blinks, turning his head to Paige with a confused frown on his face. "F-first date? But...What about Justin? Didn't you just get done saying you went out with him on a date last night?" Oh dear...what has he gotten himself into /now?/ He tries to force himself to remember the advice so many of his friends gave him: be friendly and relaxed around Paige, and things won't get so awkward. Just be yourself, and relax. Relax...hah! It's not so easy, once he actually has to try and do it. Trying to relax, he steadies his voice and answers her question honestly. "Noren and I broke up because we sort of...I dunno...drifted apart over the last few months. She started to become distant, I was always busy with work and school, and somewhere along the line..." He shrugs, still not quite sure as to what happened overall. "I guess we both just felt it was necessary. It's hard to explain." He coughs and moves to run a hand through his hair, and stops once again. Grr! You think he'd remember the bandages after a while. "So...ermm. You never answered my question about dinner. Where are we going?"
"Its not a 'date', date, silly." Paige says with a sharp laugh. "You are such a dork." She bumps hips to him as they walk. "It was a joke, sides', I know you wouldn't ask a girl like me out anyways." She admits, letting go of his hand once they reach the front door, jerking it open and heading out into the warm evening air. "I dunno, Baldos? We can just grab some burritos and munch, just hang out somewhere close. Curfew and all." She makes a face, quietly sighing to herself. "I'm sorry to hear about the whole going distant thing. I never had a boyfriend before so I wouldn't know what to expect. Heck, Justin is tha' first date ah've /ever/ had, first kiss too.." She wrinkles up her nose.
You are such a dork. Ah, if he had a dollar for every time someone's told him that phrase, he'd never want for money again. He blushes again, deeply this time, and replies with a grin and a nervous laugh, "Oh. Haha..." He mentally facepalms, a string of insults running through his head at himself. "Baldos sounds fine to me. I guess we'll just walk, then." Unless she was kidding about the teleporting bit, too. Girls are /so/ weird sometimes. "Noren was actually my first girlfriend, and the first person I've ever kissed, too. I never really was into the whole dating thing before. I used to be pretty shy," he admits. He coughs again, frowning slightly. He goes quiet for a moment, not exactly sure he wants to talk about Noren right now. He's confused enough as it is.
"Yeah.. ah' guess ah'm a bit shy also." Pausing, Paige leans up and gives him a swift, real quick peck, right on the lips. "There, now we both kissed two people in our lives, so, now we're not so pathetic." She smiles, walking backwards as she cocks her head at him, then says. "Lets go teleporting! You suggested it and I want to see what it feels like. I won't throw up or something, will I? Like on a rollar coaster?"
Paige (OOC) exclaims, "POOR QUARK!"
[X-Men] Paige messes with poor Quark's mind.
Quark (OOC) says, "lol. you are making him /SO/ confuzzled. :P"
Paige (OOC) says, "Good! He needs to be confused, because he's MALE. :)"
Quark blinks as Paige kisses him just for the fun of it, it seems. His blush turns an even deeper hue, to his surprise; he didn't actually think that much more blood could even flow to his face. "Err...thanks." What on earth is she playing at? Is she interested in Justin, or is it just a fling to have some fun? Because this is /definitely/ flirting, and he can't make heads or tails of it. More than anything, Paige seems to just fill Quark with unanswered questions: does he like her? Does he /like her/ like her? Does he want to let himself think that way about someone else? Bah. Ignore it, just keep it repressed, and maybe it'll just go away. Or something. Clearing his throat, he replies in a slightly unsteady voice, "Teleporting. Gotcha. Umm...you should be fine, actually. It might take some getting used to, but in the end, most of the strain is placed on me." Because he is /such/ a perfect martyr. "For some reason, it never really seems to drain the people I transport, just me. It usually feels like someone's grabbing you around your waist and yanking you in another direction." He fumbles for the right words to use for his explanation, but that's the best way he can explain it. "I can only take us as far as I can see, so we'll have to do it several times to make it to the city. But you shouldn't mind too much." He eyes her, as if judging to see if she's ready or not. "Let's head outside first, and then we'll take off, if you still want to."
"Oh, well if its that hard on you maybe we shouldn't. I don't want to wear you out before we get there." Paige says with a smile on her face. Just wear you out later, ha ha ha. Ahem. No, kidding! Of course she is being playful, but flirting? To her its not flirting, to her its just being goofy and zany. That is how girls act in New York, right? She just wants to fit the bill! "By th' way, you're blushing." She hints, her own cheeks a bit pinkish as she heads out into the yard.
Quark shakes his head, shrugging, "Well, it's not /that/ bad. It takes quite a bit to make me exhausted, so I should be able to handle it. Think of it like a test for me," he grins. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. And if it starts to get too stressful, we can just walk for a bit while I regain my energy. Really." If Quark knew what she was thinking right now, about this not being 'flirting', he'd openly gape and ask her when she thinks being playful finally crosses that line. And he'd probably be surprised by her answer. "Ahh...yes, I am blushing." Of /course/ he's blushing. She does have that affect on people, after all.
"Blushing is attractive." Paige says as she steals another look at his rosy cheeks. "It increases face value." Wherever she got that statement from! Sounds so rawkish. "But, if you want to teleport, then, lets do this!" She says with a giggle. "Lets go hopping, grasshopper."
Quark blinks and rolls his eyes again. "Really. I can't say I've heard /that/ quote before," is all he comments. "Hah...very well, my hopping apprentice. Let us go." He eyes here again, trying to judge her general weight so he knows what to expect. Actually, judging by her looks, she must be quite light. This should be a breeze. "But first...a little test. Just to give you a sample." With that, he holds his arms around her as if hugging her, muttering, "Hang on"...before, in a gut-wrenching sensation, the world flickers around the two as they disappear in a *bamf* of flashing smoke.
In a small burst of light and a thin cloud of gray smoke, Quark disappears into thin air.
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<< XS >> Front Porch
In the perfect serene beauty one might find on the front of a country postcard, the porch of the mansion is sweet and simple. It's kept open in the summer, although there are spaces to insert screens if on should so desire, and portable glass-panes set in, in the winter. Little flower-beds are neatly kept beneath the brick walls/railings, and several weather-hardy chairs have been set about on the somewhat time-warped floorboards. The front doors are a touch more grand, and open into the mansion with a friendly little brass placard that proclaims, 'Welcome.'
[Exits : [M]ain [E]ntrance, [G]ardens, and [F]ront [Y]ard ]
Paige has arrived.
Sliding her arms around him in return, Paige holds on tight and feels her stomach drop as the world goes away, then once more reforms. She wobbles a bit and makes a slight 'eek' sound, looking a bit woozy. ".. Oh god... wow.... that was fun." She says, burping under her breath.
Quark grins and laughs quietly. "I was hoping you would say that." He takes a deep breath and looks around, as if testing his vision to see if it's dizzy, and whether or not he still has his balance...yep! "I'm fine over here," he shrugs. She must be lighter than he thought. "Well, if you're alright, just let me know and we'll go over to Baldo's the rest of the way like that." He arches an eyebrow, wondering if she'll be able to handle feeling that sensation multiple times within a matter of seconds.
Was originally paused because I had to leave earlier than expected, but we decided to just assume the rest of the evening happily took-place off-screen. So there.
<< XS >> Library - Lv1
Vitreous plastic dust jackets gleam from their snug positions over an assortment of books, whilst older volumes left unprotected resemble multicolored alligator skins shuffled in tetragonal lines on rows and rows of oak shelving. A few marble headed busts lie around the room. Various elongated tables support coasters for the drinks that may be set there while couches and chairs with soft dark leathers and fabrics lie at odd angles around the room. Overhead, bright lighting (asides what is given by the large bay windows at one wall.) casts transparent gold light along the room, sent to bounce off various objects. A large ladder is set up on a railing system along the queued shelves, supplying the residents with many types of books.
[Exits : [M]ain [C]omputer [R]oom, [X]avier's [O]ffice, and [G]reat [H]all ]
[Players : Leah ]
Not that the library is normally the home to dinning mayhem, but come evening, with school still out, its quiet depths sink even further into dozy contemplation, like a cat curled 'round itself in light, purring sleep. The room's emptiness helps -- no, almost empty: Professor Charles Xavier has made his way out of a long and busy weekend to relax in a chair with newspapers spread on his lap and the table at his elbow, which also hosts a cut-crystal glass and the lean of his walking stick. Clad in a loose pullover shirt and slacks, he looks as casual as the place sounds, accompanied only by the intermittent whispers of turned pages.
Another day finished, another work shift thankfully ended. Seeking the same peaceful quiet that has apparently drawn its other occupant, Chris Parker--better known by his nickname Quark, of course--steps into the library with an exhalation that is part yawn, part relieved sigh. He blinks and pauses in step for just a moment as he spots Professor Xavier himself lounging in the silent library, and nearly opts to seek some other sanctuary of his own; however, taking another deep breath, the dark-haired teen slowly walks over to the room's only other occupant. His mind is an eclectic mix of emotion and ideas, the most telepathicaly recognizable of which is the emotion of nervousness. He has, after all, only met with the Professor one-on-one a handful of times over the last two years. And the reason Quark needs to talk to him isn't exactly a small matter, at least to himself.
More rustling, which pauses for a moment as psychic energy seeps through the mental plane to a frowning Xavier. His head turns to the source, and he peers around the paper, lowering it for a better look. "Mr. Parker," and he drops the paper entirely to his lap, to fold it there under quiet hands and quiet smile. "Chris. Are you all right? Have a seat, please." He nods to the couch opposite in the little conversation group, and dutifully dims the great shadow of his presence, even to the nontelepathic, to a shadow. Just a man tonight; just a concerned teacher.
Quark blinks, some of that nervousness seeping into his face in the form of a quirky smile. For some odd reason, it didn't dawn on him that a master telepath would be able to pick up on some of those surface emotions. "Good evening, Professor," he offers in a more confident, if still subdued, tone. He takes a seat across from Xavier with another small grin, running a hand through his hair out of habit once again. He really needs to stop doing that. Quark seems tense, as if a question lies poised on the edge of his mind just waiting to reach his mouth. "I'm doing alright. It was a long day at work, but it's done now. Just thought I'd try and relax a bit tonight." Which is ironic, really, considering that right now he is quite the contrary.
The smile bends a little more deeply; the glint of hooded eyes suggest that the good professor hasn't missed that irony. "This is a good place to try relaxation," Xavier allows, his voice smooth and deep as river water over polished stones. "This is still the weekend, and you deserve a little peace and quiet. How /is/ your job going? Is it working out for you, so to speak?"
Right. So this is what small-talk with the world's strongest telepath is like: just that--small-talk. Settling a bit more comfortably into his spot on the couch, something about Xavier's voice seems to calm some of nerves. There's nothing to be afraid of, Quark reminds himself again. This is just a conversation between two perfectly regular human beings. Sort of. "Actually, work has been pretty good. I've been working at a Starbucks in the city for over a year, now. The pay's pretty good, so I can't complain." So, it's almost a normal conversation.
Of course it is. Look, Xavier's even smiling and nodding encouragement with avuncular pleasure for his student. "No problems?" he wonders. "Not everyone here would be able to leave the grounds as often as you do, to spend time in the city and not -- well, lose their balance, let's say." His shoulders twitch in a small shrug. "Or lose control, for that matter."
Quark shrugs, that same small, quirky smile on his face. He wonders for a brief moment whether Xavier's comment is meant to be a praise or a warning, and after a short pause, decides to just answer instinctively. "Well, every job has its ups and downs, I suppose. It can be real stressful sometimes, having to deal with customers sometimes. Some people are really nice, sweet, friendly. Others can be..." He pauses, opting instead to avoid the use of some typical teenage cursing. "...Well, others just aren't." His smile widens briefly, then he raises his chin just slightly before replying in a confident, if not mildly defensive, tone, "I do my best to keep my control. I don't usually have problems with that." Except, he remembers, for those few painful outbursts he had the previous week following Noren's breakup with him. Memories of the injuries he sustained to his hands after beating himseful up on that punching bag flash through his mind, until Quark blinks and shuts them out of his mind with a slight blush.
The smile fades back into thoughtful calm, and Xavier's eyes lose their hooded glint in favor of keen and open awareness. "You've hurt yourself, and been hurt." So calm, and deep, and quiet the statement: a doctor's assessment, a professor's concern. "Chris -- Quark -- would you like to talk about that? I know we haven't seen much of each other since you came to the school, but my door /is/ open to all of you." A grin's flash, accompanied by flick of lean, tough fingers. "It's open now, in fact, since we seem to have the room to ourselves."
Flickering his gaze from the table back to Xavier, Quark shrugs hesitantly and quotes with a renewed grin, "'Why should I describe a sorrow which all have felt, and must feel?'" He pauses and laughs for a moment, explaining, "That's a quote from Shelley's 'Frankenstein'. I've been reading it over this summer, to give me something else to do in my free time." He pauses another moment, realizing he still hasn't answered the question. "Anyway.../That/ was just an example of me being stupid," he points out about the memories the Professor must obviously have picked up on. "And lots of teenagers deal with relationship problems. Really, I'm alright." For now.
"I see," and when Professor Xavier says that, one might well wonder what he sees. He shifts slightly in his chair, stretching out muscles that must ache -- his eyes flick sidelong, unconsciously, at the walking stick -- and then shakes his head. "There's 'being stupid,' Chris, and there's being in pain. And pounding your hands into hamburger is quite another thing altogether. I'm sorry about you and Noren." He lets that hang there, in sympathetic regret, before continuing. "You've been spending time with your fellow students. Has that helped? Is there anything the teaching staff can do?" His voice dips into mellow amusement, almost bantering. "I'll keep asking until you find me something to do to help you, you know."
Quark's facade of perfect contentment falters at the mention of Noren, and the corner of his mouth twitches just slightly as his grin fights to turn into a pouting frown. "I'll admit that literally beating myself up was not the wisest thing I've done. I just...well, lost control. It's hard, sometimes, keeping everything in control all the time. Hard to force yourself all the time to look at the brighter side of things, to ignore all the shit in everyone's life." He blinks and frowns at himself, muttering an apologetic "Sorry." He pauses for a moment before continuing in a relatively more calm voice, "But this whole thing with Noren has made me realize that the future I thought I had so perfectly planned out isn't turning out like I thought it would. And I'm not sure what to do about it."
The library waits in silence while the professor considers the young man's words -- and the young man. No telepathic contact, not even the hint of the great mind's brush, but an advisor's empathy: that, that is always present. "You aren't perfect, and no one is asking you to be," Xavier finally pays out with slow thought. "You don't /have/ to be always the optimist -- in fact, that's an outstandingly successful recipe for disaster. We all need to consider the shadows as well as the light." He sounds fleetingly tired with that, and his head lowers slightly. "And no one can see the future. No one, Chris. This isn't what I imagined I'd be doing when I was your age, you know. Not who I imagined I'd /be./ Plans adapt. People adapt." His head lifts again; his tone shifts to firmer ground. "Your uncertainty does you credit. It might well keep you alive someday, where the foolishly eager charge right ahead."
The library relapses to silence as Xavier finishes his impromptu speech, as Quark mulls his words over. He shifts in his seat and finally replies hesitantly, "I know no one is /asking/ me to be, but for some reason, I find that I just do it to myself. I don't know why...It's just the way I am. I don't know how else to explain it. I /like/ to look at the better side of things, and help others see the good in life too. I like to make people feel better, to laugh. But sometimes, I lose it, and I just can't help myself from feeling upset and frustrated." He frowns again, sighing and staring back at the ground. If he was a girl, this is the part where he would start to cry. "I'm more worried about this upcoming semester more than anything. I thought I wanted to be a college student, but now I just...I just don't /know/. Being a mutant kind of throws a wrench into the plans I once had. Don't get me wrong, I have no regrets about being a mutant! I just don't know which facet of my life I'm supposed to follow, or why."
Folding his hands into a fresh configuration, and watching them instead of the student, Xavier says simply, "Pick one."
Quark blinks, mouth opening as if to say something then snaps shut. That isn't exactly the fatherly kind of advice he was expecting to hear. "'Pick one'?" he finally repeats, as if unsure he understood the question properly. "I mean...I can't just do that. I've already tried, even. I talked to Jean once about pursuing my powers further, even one day maybe joining the X-Men." That last phrase is spoken in a lower tone, as if unsure if he is worthy of saying it aloud. "But she pretty much shot that down, because she said that by doing it I would be wasting my academic potential. Which is probably true anyway, I suppose. But then I consider focusing on my schooling, on forgoing training my powers and learning to become a doctor...and all I can think about is how I feel like I'm letting myself fall short of my fate or something. I have these powers for a reason, right? Why hide them, why give up what makes me more special than anything else I can do, when I could use them to help other people?"
"Chris," says Xavier patiently, "that's what I mean. Stop. And pick a facet to develop. And let yourself -- let yourself /enjoy/ your life a little more." His gaze focuses, intent even without telepathic backing, and 'avuncular' has never meant 'fatherly,' anyway. A little challenge to this bright pupil? "You have so many options, perhaps too many, and I sense that you're trying to be everything to everyone, or would like to be, including to yourself. You can't. Believe me, you can't, and you don't need to." A small smile. "You are an excellent student. You do well in training. You are a model student in your comportment and inspiration. But you run the risk of burning yourself out unless you . . . slow down a little. Your fate is always out there, waiting for you. As long as you keep striving for it, you /can't/ fall short of it. You can only fail to reach it by striving too hard and tumbling out of the sky, like Icarus. Do you understand?"
Quark nods, a silent, pensieve expression on his face. The choice Xavier offers to Chris seems almost too easy, yet he understands, for once, that it is the right thing to do. If only doing it was that easy. "It's just..." He sighs, searching for the right words. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I am trying to be too much at once. But it just feels that by slowing down, life seems to fly by me. I just graduated, and I could be--maybe /should/ be--a freshman in college next year. And I'm still not sure if I want to be." He pauses, another frown on his face. No, that doesn't seem to be what he wants to say, either. That's a pretty lame counterpoint. "It is my deep, personal belief that I should develop my powers, learn to master them for any challenges that come along. But I'm not sure whether the teachers here would enjoy having that kind of 'over-zealous' crime-fighting wannabe hanging around your school." Icarus...He sighs, shaking his head at himself. If only he knew what he really, truly wanted, this wouldn't be so hard to explain.
The professor points out, "It's your school, too, although I'll grant that we tend to shy away from encouraging vigilantes of any sort." Xavier pauses then, contemplates the younger man over intertwined fingers steepled against his chin. "Let's take this one step at a time. What would happen if you didn't decide soon -- tonight, tomorrow, next year, whatever you like -- what you want to be? Tell me that. Be honest. What would happen to you? To the world?"
"I don't /want/ to be a vigilante. Honestly. But I can't help but feel that the other teachers would be turned off by what they see as a gung-ho teenager overly excited about using his powers for the greater good." Chris sighs, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms contemplatively. He frowns again in thought, trying to predict what would happen if Quark did as Xavier suggested--if he was uncharacteristically indecisive. "...Well, I wouldn't be in college, for starters. Which means I'd never begin my schooling to be a scientists, or a doctor. I suppose I could always start a semester or a year later, and still not be that far behind. But for as many years as it takes to become a doctor, I'd be too old to do anything if I waited forever to make up my mind."
Continues a mild Xavier, "/Do/ you think it would take you years to make up your mind?"
Quark blinks, tilting his head to the side slightly as he ponders this new question. "Well, I'm not one to be so indecisive. I know my options, I've weighed the pros and cons, and now..." He sighs, shrugging and holding up his hands as if unsure what to say. Finally, he finishes with a quote, "'Choice. The problem is choice.'" No, that's not Frankenstein this time--that's from a good ol' movie we like to call 'The Matrix'.
Reassurance moves through the air between them: some small touch of telepathy now, borne on Xavier's rich, rolling voice. "Yes, it always is. We struggle with that every day, and it rarely gets better. Or worse. It's what makes life worth living: having choice and making it. You don't need to make yours now, this instant, but perhaps you can talk with your teachers to get their input. Professor Summers would be of particular help, I think." Smiling a little sadly, a little fondly, he lowers his hands again to his lap and taps a thoughtful fingertip against the folded newspaper there. "He knows all about making choices, every day of his life, and living with the consequences . . . and going on to make new ones, always new ones. Why do you speak with him sometime? As for your powers, and the X-Men . . ."
The subtlety of Xavier's telepathically expressed reassurance ensures that Quark suddenly finds himself feeling a bit more calm, more relaxed than he had since first walking through that library door. "You're right. Putting off something like this, if only for a while, does not mean I'm being totally indecisive. Just...thoughtful." He sighs, ponders for a minute, and then continues his quote, "'We can never see past the choices we don't understand.' Hmm." At the mention of Scott, he glances up at Xavier, a different kind of frown--one of mild worry and concern--on his face. "I know I shouldn't pry, but...there have been rumors that Sco--err, Professor Summers--has been a little...ermm...odd lately." Darn Jubilee, why'd she have to go and get Quark interested in the rumor mill? She's having a bad influence on him, and that's without even spening much time with her. "Is everything all right?"
Leah (OOC) cackles. No, he's possessed by a malevolent telepathic being. Except for that, he's fine. :>
Approval wings out in Xavier's smile. "Exactly! You /are/ thoughtful, and that's what we want to encourage in you, without sending you into 'analysis paralysis,' as the saying goes. Keep talking with us, Chris, and keep questioning, for your part. You /will/ meet your fate, and it will be worth the wait, and worthy of you." Soft, the promise, but no less strong for that, in his manner, in those kind, wise eyes. "Don't worry about Professor Summers. He's having a -- rough few weeks lately, but it's all under control. 'This too shall pass,' hm? Now, about your powers: is there more that you want to do with them? Any particular training you're seeking? Or is it only more tangible results, let's say -- more immediate action?"
Quark nods slowly, replying, "Well, everyone has rough weeks now and then, I suppose. I should know," he grins. Those rumors were probably just that: rumors, and nothing more. Surely, if it was something serious to be worried about, the students would've been properly informed. But, ah, powers! This he is happy discussing. A renewed smile on his face, albeit only a small one, adorns his face as he replies, "Well, I've gotten pretty good at finely controlling my teleportation. I teleport to and from work each day, so I've been using that time to improve my distance and endurance. I want to get to the point where I can easily teleport someone else with me without feeling drained at all, as well as find ways to apply teleportation to some more interesting...err...combat situations." Which brings up another good point. "Now that I'm graduated and all, I was wondering if I could get some more time in the Danger Room, too. I've been in a few times now and then, but nothing on a frequent basis."
A somber nod leads Xavier to caution, delicately balancing praise and warning, "Keep in close control of your teleportation into the city, as you have been doing so far. I trust to your discretion; the whole school does, in a way, and you're strong enough to carry it, I think." He settles back in his chair. Powers. Yes. /Here/ is a talk to be had, indeed. "Again, Professor Summers would be a good sounding-board for your combat ideas, although he might not have the same view as you do of 'interesting.'" His tone's lightness aims to pull any sting from the words, and his brows' puckish lift. Even the old teacher can appreciate youthful innovation, it seems. "But what about Professor Logan? He spends a good amount of time in the Danger Room; he'd know the schedule the best, how you could fit into it, and with whom you should train. Would you like me to bring it up with him, or would you rather?"
Quark nods sincerely, trying not to look like a young boy being lectured. "Yes, Professor. I always make sure to avoid any witnesses, and I usually walk the last bit after coming into the city. Trust me, I have no intentions of drawing that kind of attention to the school whatsoever." And again with the powers--woohoo! He nods again, replying, "I'll be sure to mention them to Professor Summers sometime when I have the chance, and he's--err--feeling a bit better. And I would be glad if you could mention that to Professor Logan. Otherwise, I can do it myself. It's not a big deal to me, really." He sighs and glances at his now unbandaged hands, adding in a mutter, "Although, after last week, he probably wouldn't believe it if he heard from me." He's not sure whether or not Logan would consider letting Quark into the danger room after he recklessly beat himself up over relationship issues a mere week or so ago.
Picking up on that uncertainty, because he can't not, Xavier nods through the rest of the answer with quiet approval and then asks, "You have no problems with working with him, however, do you? I know that he's not the most . . . gentle of instructors." A bit arch, there, sharing it between just the two of them with only the library for a witness.
Quark blinks and then shakes his head, a larger smile on his face this time. "Who, Professor Logan? No, no! I have no problems working with him at all. I had him as my Japanese teacher these last few years, and although he does have a rather...gruff exterior, he can be quite funny and friendly." Sort of. "If he has no problem working with me, then we'll have no problems at all." He pauses for a few minutes, biting his lower lip in thought as he quietly ponders another idea that's been nagging at him. "Umm...Professor. I know I've already graduated and all, but I was thinking...well, I was wondering if maybe I could stick around for a while? Stay here at the mansion?" He blinks and adds in a rush, "I mean, it'd give me a chance to work with Log--I mean /Professors/ Logan and Summers--and maybe I could be a teacher assistant, or work in the lab with Hank? Like an intern or something, while I figure out what I want to do about...well, everything?" Oh, please say yes?
A chuckle. "My dear Quark, has anyone asked you to move out?" Xavier gleams honest amusement in his smile and the merest touch of mind to mind, like the pure, honeyed essence of affection. "Of course you can stay. I'd never require any of our students to leave the school before he felt ready. There's plenty of room, and as you say, you need to sort out your future. Working with the staff can only help, hm? We'll put our heads together and come up with something."
Quark blinks, and then breaks out into a large, quirky grin. "Really? That is the best news I've heard all night!" Indeed, he feels rejuvenated and lighthearted, exuding feelings of happiness. Finally knowing for a fact that he doesn't have to leave his true home yet, and that he has some time to figure out what to do about his future, takes a large weight off of his chest. "I'll be sure to talk with Dr. McCoy sometime, and discuss the possibilities of being a lab assistant, then. Or help him with his chemistry classes--they're my favorite," he admits.
"Excellent!" Xavier beams back at the young man. Endorphins are contagious. "I'm sure Dr. McCoy would appreciate the help, with Dr. Grey on sabbatical, and it will be good experience for you, for whatever you decide to pursue."
"It's settled, then. If you would be kind enough to discuss Danger Room opportunities with Professor Logan, then I will talk with Professor Summers and Dr. McCoy about staying here and helping out around the school next year. At least, for a while. Until I figure out what I really want to do." He stands, stretching his arms with a small yawn. He eyes Xavier and pauses awkwardly for a moment; he is unsure whether it would be more appropriate to offer a friendly handshake or give him a hug like he would a familiar family member (an uncle, of course, apparently). In the end, he merely says in a quiet, sincere voice, "Thank you again, Professor, for everything. It means the world to me." A quirky grin and a moment later, he tacks on at the end, "And I /must/ play you in a game of chess. I hear you're quite good," he winks.
With a chuckle, Xavier waves a hand to encompass the promises -- and the chess, too, with his head cocked in a return smile. "I'll look forward to it, Mr. Parker. We can continue our conversation then, and I'll also look forward to hearing about your progress. I have every confidence that there will be plenty over the next good while. In the meantime, do have a good evening. You've earned it." Quiet approval, shining pride: his head lifts to his student, and his mind offers a feather's touch of a salute, equal to equal.
Quark nods happily. "Wonderful! I'll be sure to go easy on you," he adds with another wink. He doesn't really expect to win against someone like the great Charles Xavier, but what would competition be without a little playful banter? "I appreciate the confidence. I won't let you down, I promise." That much, he is certain of. With another short nod, he waves before disappearing in a sudden *bamf* of smoke, heading back to his room for the evening. Xavier can rest more easily tonight, however, knowing that at least there is one less teenager in the school broadcasting broody angst for one particular telepath.
Thanks to Leah-player again for a wonderfully awesome scene! I enjoyed it thoroughly.
<< XS >> Kitchen - Lv1
Meant to service a large number of people, this kitchen is vast, with more than one oven and several stainless steel work surfaces. Inset into the ceiling are fluorescent glow strips, throwing everything into bright, if somewhat harsh light. At meal times, kitchen workers scurry to and fro with pans and food and various other sundry items. But out of those times, everything is in its place, and there's even a tray of cold snacks for those who might come in search of a bite to eat.
[Exits : [Pat]io, and [H]allway ]
[Players : Paige ]
As the evening progresses, activity around the school tends to slow down as the various students head out to their own parties, sight-seeing, and so forth. Some of them, however, have been too busy with work to enjoy such free time, let alone the comfort of food. So, it is little surprise when Quark saunters into the kitchen after coming home from work, hoping to enjoy a good ol' sandwich and whatever junk food he can get his hands on. Which, knowing this school, is not much. Setting his green hat and apron from his work uniform down on the counter, he opens the cupboard and glances around, trying to find some things to eat. His stomach growls quietly in anticipation.
Heading into the kitchen, Paige is dressed in a pair of comfy pants and a simple shirt, wearing a big grin on her face. She is humming along with that song: That thing you do, under her breath, snapping her fingers as she goes. "Hey Chris." She calls over with a bright grin on her face, wiggling her fingers in his direction. "You smell like Frappuchino."
Quark glances up as Paige approaches, and cannot help but grin at the glee emanating from Paige. "Hey there," he offers, grabbing some bread out of the cupboard and the other ingredients he needs to make a traditional, tried-but-true peanut butter and jelly sandwich--a dinner of champions, surely. He fumbles for a knife from a drawer, and then stares at it ruefully, as if unsure of how to use it. These dang bandages on his hands make using any sort of fine tool a pain in the neck; once again, he finds himself wishing he had telekinetic powers. Oh well. "You seem awfully giddy tonight," he comments in an inquisitive manner, a curious grin on his face as he sticks the knife into the peanut butter jar and then tries to scrape it onto his piece of bread without stabbing right through it. "What's up?" he asks her, a look of mild concentration on his face.
"I am bored, have way too much pent up energy and looking to get out for a bit." Paige says as she pulls her hair back behind her place, then snatches up the knife from your hand, hipping you to the side. She shoos you away, then starts making you a sandwich. "I think the bandages can come off." She admits. "Typically stitches are OK on their own and you don't need to keep them wrapped up." After pressing the gooey pieces of bread together, she hands it over to you after slicing the crusts off, then offers up a bright, amused grin upon her face. "You didn't bring me any coffee." She pouts.
Quark blinks and mock-glares at Paige, but allows himself to be bumped out of the way. He crosses his arms and watches her finish making the sandwich, replying to her as she does so, "Well, Dr. McCoy told me to keep them on for a week, so I'm going to do just that. They're not just for the stitches, you know--have to keep ointment and stuff for the cuts and stuff." He glances down at the sandwich and back up at her as she cuts the crust off, adding with a rueful grin, "You know, that's the /healthy/ part. But thanks for finishing it for me, though." He takes a grateful bite out of the sandwich, nodding his approval before he heads over to the fridge to look for something to drink. "You didn't ask for any, silly," he grins back. "And I smell like frappuccinos because that's what everyone seemed to try tonight. Especially that new one, the Green Tea frappuccino." He grimaces slightly, shaking his head. "It's not that great, to be honest with you."
"I think that one is not good at all. I like the carmel one, its sweeter." Paige says as she pops a piece of crust into her mouth, chewing playfully as she stares up at you with a big grin on her face. "I've had tons ah' stitches an ah' nevah left bandages on fo' more than a day or two. Ah'm sure you'll be OK." She reaches over and tugs on your sleeve a bit, then says. "I'm hungry for real food. Lets go out and snag something."
"That, and the caramel one doesn't taste like spinach or grass or something," he nods with a grin. "Well, I am quite stubborn, and I will follow my doctor's orders as commanded. Maybe they'll heal better, or be less likely to scar or something." At the not-so-subtle suggestion that they head out to the town and get dinner together, he pauses for a moment, though, using his half-eaten sandwich as an excuse for silence. Is he safe to admit that now she /is/ trying to flirt with him, to ask him out on an unofficial date? Or is she just trying to be friendly? He shrugs, taking another satisfying bite of his sandwich. Maybe it's a bit of both. "Well, I just got home from work," he points out. Pondering, he frowns and continues, "Besides, didn't you already have dinner plans with that one friend of yours? Jonny, or Justin, or whatever his name was? Or was that earlier in the week?" He takes another bite of his sandwich. Ah, silence is golden.
"Justin and ah' went out last night. It was so fun." Paige says with a big grin on her face, sighing happily. ".. He kissed me." Twirl. She spins about on one foot, then gives him another tug of his sleeve. "We went to a place called the Empire, an Italian joint and he gave me a rose made of Chrome. That's what he does." She says. "He can touch things and turn it into metal. Its so cool." Sighing out, she slowly breathes. "He was really romantic too, couldn't believe it."
Quark grins and roooollls his eyes. Well, that answers his question. Both of them, actually. She had dinner /last/ night, and she's obviously not flirting with him if she's already in a relationship. So, he has no reason to feel awkward if he chooses to spend some time with her, right? Right! Nodding and finally making his decision, he replies, "Well, then I guess you haven't eaten much for dinner tonight, then. Sure, I'd love to grab some food, then." He coughs and shakes his head ruefully, adding, "Although, from the sounds of it, it'll be hard to top last night. Hah." He shuts the fridge door and cupboard, and makes sure his wallet is in his pocket before stating aloud, "Alright, dinner's on me, then. Where would you like to go?"
"PFff. Quark, you had me at hello." Paige says as she loops her arm into his, giving him a tug as she starts leading him off and out of the kitchen. She even goes so far to lock her hand in his, fingers twining. Aw, how cute! "Ah'm starving tho'. Ah' got mah' butt kicked by Logan most ah' the' day in training and shaved another three seconds off'ah'mah mile run. This time ah' wasn't even breathing that hard. Sooooo..." She says, snapping a blue gaze up to him. "Where are we eating at?"
Quark grins at her use of that quote, commenting, "You know, I still haven't seen that movie. Jeremy Maguire, I mean." Assuming she knew where that quote was from. He blushes ever so slightly as she starts to act all...girly on him, but finds himself enjoying it. No, he reminds himself, she's already in a relationship. Stop getting crazy ideas like that. Besides, how can you top a chrome rose? That's annoyingly brilliant. "Another three seconds? Damn, you already had me beat by a good twenty to begin with. I'm going to have to jog more," he grins. "Actually, it's kind of odd. I find that the older I get and the more physically fit I am, the easier it is to teleport a larger load with me. That's one of the main reasons I started working out more, actually. I used to get terribly drained whenever I took someone with me, but now, it only makes me a little out of breath." But...enough about him! Let's talk about you! "I'll take you anywhere you want to go. I like all kinds of food, so I don't mind. Really. And it's my treat." Thank God he got his paycheck a few days ago. "And, if you'd like, I can even get us there within a few minutes. Or at least most of the way," he shrugs with a mischievous grin.
"Ah'dunno Chris, teleporting on the first date is kinda risque'." Paige teases as she sneaks a mischevious look to his eyes, winking. "An, ah' never saw it either, but ah' heard it on VH1 last night during their one hundred top cheesy movie moments." She seems so confident for some reason as she walks with you, giving a quick grin to some girls that pass by, saying fast hellos and goodbyes. See, Quark is a trophy guy on her hand, really! "So, Chris.. why did you and Noren break up for? You're a real nice guy... she must be brain damaged or something." Lets not talk about her, lets talk about you! Merry Go Round.
Quark instantly does a doubletake and blinks, turning his head to Paige with a confused frown on his face. "F-first date? But...What about Justin? Didn't you just get done saying you went out with him on a date last night?" Oh dear...what has he gotten himself into /now?/ He tries to force himself to remember the advice so many of his friends gave him: be friendly and relaxed around Paige, and things won't get so awkward. Just be yourself, and relax. Relax...hah! It's not so easy, once he actually has to try and do it. Trying to relax, he steadies his voice and answers her question honestly. "Noren and I broke up because we sort of...I dunno...drifted apart over the last few months. She started to become distant, I was always busy with work and school, and somewhere along the line..." He shrugs, still not quite sure as to what happened overall. "I guess we both just felt it was necessary. It's hard to explain." He coughs and moves to run a hand through his hair, and stops once again. Grr! You think he'd remember the bandages after a while. "So...ermm. You never answered my question about dinner. Where are we going?"
"Its not a 'date', date, silly." Paige says with a sharp laugh. "You are such a dork." She bumps hips to him as they walk. "It was a joke, sides', I know you wouldn't ask a girl like me out anyways." She admits, letting go of his hand once they reach the front door, jerking it open and heading out into the warm evening air. "I dunno, Baldos? We can just grab some burritos and munch, just hang out somewhere close. Curfew and all." She makes a face, quietly sighing to herself. "I'm sorry to hear about the whole going distant thing. I never had a boyfriend before so I wouldn't know what to expect. Heck, Justin is tha' first date ah've /ever/ had, first kiss too.." She wrinkles up her nose.
You are such a dork. Ah, if he had a dollar for every time someone's told him that phrase, he'd never want for money again. He blushes again, deeply this time, and replies with a grin and a nervous laugh, "Oh. Haha..." He mentally facepalms, a string of insults running through his head at himself. "Baldos sounds fine to me. I guess we'll just walk, then." Unless she was kidding about the teleporting bit, too. Girls are /so/ weird sometimes. "Noren was actually my first girlfriend, and the first person I've ever kissed, too. I never really was into the whole dating thing before. I used to be pretty shy," he admits. He coughs again, frowning slightly. He goes quiet for a moment, not exactly sure he wants to talk about Noren right now. He's confused enough as it is.
"Yeah.. ah' guess ah'm a bit shy also." Pausing, Paige leans up and gives him a swift, real quick peck, right on the lips. "There, now we both kissed two people in our lives, so, now we're not so pathetic." She smiles, walking backwards as she cocks her head at him, then says. "Lets go teleporting! You suggested it and I want to see what it feels like. I won't throw up or something, will I? Like on a rollar coaster?"
Paige (OOC) exclaims, "POOR QUARK!"
[X-Men] Paige messes with poor Quark's mind.
Quark (OOC) says, "lol. you are making him /SO/ confuzzled. :P"
Paige (OOC) says, "Good! He needs to be confused, because he's MALE. :)"
Quark blinks as Paige kisses him just for the fun of it, it seems. His blush turns an even deeper hue, to his surprise; he didn't actually think that much more blood could even flow to his face. "Err...thanks." What on earth is she playing at? Is she interested in Justin, or is it just a fling to have some fun? Because this is /definitely/ flirting, and he can't make heads or tails of it. More than anything, Paige seems to just fill Quark with unanswered questions: does he like her? Does he /like her/ like her? Does he want to let himself think that way about someone else? Bah. Ignore it, just keep it repressed, and maybe it'll just go away. Or something. Clearing his throat, he replies in a slightly unsteady voice, "Teleporting. Gotcha. Umm...you should be fine, actually. It might take some getting used to, but in the end, most of the strain is placed on me." Because he is /such/ a perfect martyr. "For some reason, it never really seems to drain the people I transport, just me. It usually feels like someone's grabbing you around your waist and yanking you in another direction." He fumbles for the right words to use for his explanation, but that's the best way he can explain it. "I can only take us as far as I can see, so we'll have to do it several times to make it to the city. But you shouldn't mind too much." He eyes her, as if judging to see if she's ready or not. "Let's head outside first, and then we'll take off, if you still want to."
"Oh, well if its that hard on you maybe we shouldn't. I don't want to wear you out before we get there." Paige says with a smile on her face. Just wear you out later, ha ha ha. Ahem. No, kidding! Of course she is being playful, but flirting? To her its not flirting, to her its just being goofy and zany. That is how girls act in New York, right? She just wants to fit the bill! "By th' way, you're blushing." She hints, her own cheeks a bit pinkish as she heads out into the yard.
Quark shakes his head, shrugging, "Well, it's not /that/ bad. It takes quite a bit to make me exhausted, so I should be able to handle it. Think of it like a test for me," he grins. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. And if it starts to get too stressful, we can just walk for a bit while I regain my energy. Really." If Quark knew what she was thinking right now, about this not being 'flirting', he'd openly gape and ask her when she thinks being playful finally crosses that line. And he'd probably be surprised by her answer. "Ahh...yes, I am blushing." Of /course/ he's blushing. She does have that affect on people, after all.
"Blushing is attractive." Paige says as she steals another look at his rosy cheeks. "It increases face value." Wherever she got that statement from! Sounds so rawkish. "But, if you want to teleport, then, lets do this!" She says with a giggle. "Lets go hopping, grasshopper."
Quark blinks and rolls his eyes again. "Really. I can't say I've heard /that/ quote before," is all he comments. "Hah...very well, my hopping apprentice. Let us go." He eyes here again, trying to judge her general weight so he knows what to expect. Actually, judging by her looks, she must be quite light. This should be a breeze. "But first...a little test. Just to give you a sample." With that, he holds his arms around her as if hugging her, muttering, "Hang on"...before, in a gut-wrenching sensation, the world flickers around the two as they disappear in a *bamf* of flashing smoke.
In a small burst of light and a thin cloud of gray smoke, Quark disappears into thin air.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
<< XS >> Front Porch
In the perfect serene beauty one might find on the front of a country postcard, the porch of the mansion is sweet and simple. It's kept open in the summer, although there are spaces to insert screens if on should so desire, and portable glass-panes set in, in the winter. Little flower-beds are neatly kept beneath the brick walls/railings, and several weather-hardy chairs have been set about on the somewhat time-warped floorboards. The front doors are a touch more grand, and open into the mansion with a friendly little brass placard that proclaims, 'Welcome.'
[Exits : [M]ain [E]ntrance, [G]ardens, and [F]ront [Y]ard ]
Paige has arrived.
Sliding her arms around him in return, Paige holds on tight and feels her stomach drop as the world goes away, then once more reforms. She wobbles a bit and makes a slight 'eek' sound, looking a bit woozy. ".. Oh god... wow.... that was fun." She says, burping under her breath.
Quark grins and laughs quietly. "I was hoping you would say that." He takes a deep breath and looks around, as if testing his vision to see if it's dizzy, and whether or not he still has his balance...yep! "I'm fine over here," he shrugs. She must be lighter than he thought. "Well, if you're alright, just let me know and we'll go over to Baldo's the rest of the way like that." He arches an eyebrow, wondering if she'll be able to handle feeling that sensation multiple times within a matter of seconds.
Was originally paused because I had to leave earlier than expected, but we decided to just assume the rest of the evening happily took-place off-screen. So there.
<< XS >> Library - Lv1
Vitreous plastic dust jackets gleam from their snug positions over an assortment of books, whilst older volumes left unprotected resemble multicolored alligator skins shuffled in tetragonal lines on rows and rows of oak shelving. A few marble headed busts lie around the room. Various elongated tables support coasters for the drinks that may be set there while couches and chairs with soft dark leathers and fabrics lie at odd angles around the room. Overhead, bright lighting (asides what is given by the large bay windows at one wall.) casts transparent gold light along the room, sent to bounce off various objects. A large ladder is set up on a railing system along the queued shelves, supplying the residents with many types of books.
[Exits : [M]ain [C]omputer [R]oom, [X]avier's [O]ffice, and [G]reat [H]all ]
[Players : Leah ]
Not that the library is normally the home to dinning mayhem, but come evening, with school still out, its quiet depths sink even further into dozy contemplation, like a cat curled 'round itself in light, purring sleep. The room's emptiness helps -- no, almost empty: Professor Charles Xavier has made his way out of a long and busy weekend to relax in a chair with newspapers spread on his lap and the table at his elbow, which also hosts a cut-crystal glass and the lean of his walking stick. Clad in a loose pullover shirt and slacks, he looks as casual as the place sounds, accompanied only by the intermittent whispers of turned pages.
Another day finished, another work shift thankfully ended. Seeking the same peaceful quiet that has apparently drawn its other occupant, Chris Parker--better known by his nickname Quark, of course--steps into the library with an exhalation that is part yawn, part relieved sigh. He blinks and pauses in step for just a moment as he spots Professor Xavier himself lounging in the silent library, and nearly opts to seek some other sanctuary of his own; however, taking another deep breath, the dark-haired teen slowly walks over to the room's only other occupant. His mind is an eclectic mix of emotion and ideas, the most telepathicaly recognizable of which is the emotion of nervousness. He has, after all, only met with the Professor one-on-one a handful of times over the last two years. And the reason Quark needs to talk to him isn't exactly a small matter, at least to himself.
More rustling, which pauses for a moment as psychic energy seeps through the mental plane to a frowning Xavier. His head turns to the source, and he peers around the paper, lowering it for a better look. "Mr. Parker," and he drops the paper entirely to his lap, to fold it there under quiet hands and quiet smile. "Chris. Are you all right? Have a seat, please." He nods to the couch opposite in the little conversation group, and dutifully dims the great shadow of his presence, even to the nontelepathic, to a shadow. Just a man tonight; just a concerned teacher.
Quark blinks, some of that nervousness seeping into his face in the form of a quirky smile. For some odd reason, it didn't dawn on him that a master telepath would be able to pick up on some of those surface emotions. "Good evening, Professor," he offers in a more confident, if still subdued, tone. He takes a seat across from Xavier with another small grin, running a hand through his hair out of habit once again. He really needs to stop doing that. Quark seems tense, as if a question lies poised on the edge of his mind just waiting to reach his mouth. "I'm doing alright. It was a long day at work, but it's done now. Just thought I'd try and relax a bit tonight." Which is ironic, really, considering that right now he is quite the contrary.
The smile bends a little more deeply; the glint of hooded eyes suggest that the good professor hasn't missed that irony. "This is a good place to try relaxation," Xavier allows, his voice smooth and deep as river water over polished stones. "This is still the weekend, and you deserve a little peace and quiet. How /is/ your job going? Is it working out for you, so to speak?"
Right. So this is what small-talk with the world's strongest telepath is like: just that--small-talk. Settling a bit more comfortably into his spot on the couch, something about Xavier's voice seems to calm some of nerves. There's nothing to be afraid of, Quark reminds himself again. This is just a conversation between two perfectly regular human beings. Sort of. "Actually, work has been pretty good. I've been working at a Starbucks in the city for over a year, now. The pay's pretty good, so I can't complain." So, it's almost a normal conversation.
Of course it is. Look, Xavier's even smiling and nodding encouragement with avuncular pleasure for his student. "No problems?" he wonders. "Not everyone here would be able to leave the grounds as often as you do, to spend time in the city and not -- well, lose their balance, let's say." His shoulders twitch in a small shrug. "Or lose control, for that matter."
Quark shrugs, that same small, quirky smile on his face. He wonders for a brief moment whether Xavier's comment is meant to be a praise or a warning, and after a short pause, decides to just answer instinctively. "Well, every job has its ups and downs, I suppose. It can be real stressful sometimes, having to deal with customers sometimes. Some people are really nice, sweet, friendly. Others can be..." He pauses, opting instead to avoid the use of some typical teenage cursing. "...Well, others just aren't." His smile widens briefly, then he raises his chin just slightly before replying in a confident, if not mildly defensive, tone, "I do my best to keep my control. I don't usually have problems with that." Except, he remembers, for those few painful outbursts he had the previous week following Noren's breakup with him. Memories of the injuries he sustained to his hands after beating himseful up on that punching bag flash through his mind, until Quark blinks and shuts them out of his mind with a slight blush.
The smile fades back into thoughtful calm, and Xavier's eyes lose their hooded glint in favor of keen and open awareness. "You've hurt yourself, and been hurt." So calm, and deep, and quiet the statement: a doctor's assessment, a professor's concern. "Chris -- Quark -- would you like to talk about that? I know we haven't seen much of each other since you came to the school, but my door /is/ open to all of you." A grin's flash, accompanied by flick of lean, tough fingers. "It's open now, in fact, since we seem to have the room to ourselves."
Flickering his gaze from the table back to Xavier, Quark shrugs hesitantly and quotes with a renewed grin, "'Why should I describe a sorrow which all have felt, and must feel?'" He pauses and laughs for a moment, explaining, "That's a quote from Shelley's 'Frankenstein'. I've been reading it over this summer, to give me something else to do in my free time." He pauses another moment, realizing he still hasn't answered the question. "Anyway.../That/ was just an example of me being stupid," he points out about the memories the Professor must obviously have picked up on. "And lots of teenagers deal with relationship problems. Really, I'm alright." For now.
"I see," and when Professor Xavier says that, one might well wonder what he sees. He shifts slightly in his chair, stretching out muscles that must ache -- his eyes flick sidelong, unconsciously, at the walking stick -- and then shakes his head. "There's 'being stupid,' Chris, and there's being in pain. And pounding your hands into hamburger is quite another thing altogether. I'm sorry about you and Noren." He lets that hang there, in sympathetic regret, before continuing. "You've been spending time with your fellow students. Has that helped? Is there anything the teaching staff can do?" His voice dips into mellow amusement, almost bantering. "I'll keep asking until you find me something to do to help you, you know."
Quark's facade of perfect contentment falters at the mention of Noren, and the corner of his mouth twitches just slightly as his grin fights to turn into a pouting frown. "I'll admit that literally beating myself up was not the wisest thing I've done. I just...well, lost control. It's hard, sometimes, keeping everything in control all the time. Hard to force yourself all the time to look at the brighter side of things, to ignore all the shit in everyone's life." He blinks and frowns at himself, muttering an apologetic "Sorry." He pauses for a moment before continuing in a relatively more calm voice, "But this whole thing with Noren has made me realize that the future I thought I had so perfectly planned out isn't turning out like I thought it would. And I'm not sure what to do about it."
The library waits in silence while the professor considers the young man's words -- and the young man. No telepathic contact, not even the hint of the great mind's brush, but an advisor's empathy: that, that is always present. "You aren't perfect, and no one is asking you to be," Xavier finally pays out with slow thought. "You don't /have/ to be always the optimist -- in fact, that's an outstandingly successful recipe for disaster. We all need to consider the shadows as well as the light." He sounds fleetingly tired with that, and his head lowers slightly. "And no one can see the future. No one, Chris. This isn't what I imagined I'd be doing when I was your age, you know. Not who I imagined I'd /be./ Plans adapt. People adapt." His head lifts again; his tone shifts to firmer ground. "Your uncertainty does you credit. It might well keep you alive someday, where the foolishly eager charge right ahead."
The library relapses to silence as Xavier finishes his impromptu speech, as Quark mulls his words over. He shifts in his seat and finally replies hesitantly, "I know no one is /asking/ me to be, but for some reason, I find that I just do it to myself. I don't know why...It's just the way I am. I don't know how else to explain it. I /like/ to look at the better side of things, and help others see the good in life too. I like to make people feel better, to laugh. But sometimes, I lose it, and I just can't help myself from feeling upset and frustrated." He frowns again, sighing and staring back at the ground. If he was a girl, this is the part where he would start to cry. "I'm more worried about this upcoming semester more than anything. I thought I wanted to be a college student, but now I just...I just don't /know/. Being a mutant kind of throws a wrench into the plans I once had. Don't get me wrong, I have no regrets about being a mutant! I just don't know which facet of my life I'm supposed to follow, or why."
Folding his hands into a fresh configuration, and watching them instead of the student, Xavier says simply, "Pick one."
Quark blinks, mouth opening as if to say something then snaps shut. That isn't exactly the fatherly kind of advice he was expecting to hear. "'Pick one'?" he finally repeats, as if unsure he understood the question properly. "I mean...I can't just do that. I've already tried, even. I talked to Jean once about pursuing my powers further, even one day maybe joining the X-Men." That last phrase is spoken in a lower tone, as if unsure if he is worthy of saying it aloud. "But she pretty much shot that down, because she said that by doing it I would be wasting my academic potential. Which is probably true anyway, I suppose. But then I consider focusing on my schooling, on forgoing training my powers and learning to become a doctor...and all I can think about is how I feel like I'm letting myself fall short of my fate or something. I have these powers for a reason, right? Why hide them, why give up what makes me more special than anything else I can do, when I could use them to help other people?"
"Chris," says Xavier patiently, "that's what I mean. Stop. And pick a facet to develop. And let yourself -- let yourself /enjoy/ your life a little more." His gaze focuses, intent even without telepathic backing, and 'avuncular' has never meant 'fatherly,' anyway. A little challenge to this bright pupil? "You have so many options, perhaps too many, and I sense that you're trying to be everything to everyone, or would like to be, including to yourself. You can't. Believe me, you can't, and you don't need to." A small smile. "You are an excellent student. You do well in training. You are a model student in your comportment and inspiration. But you run the risk of burning yourself out unless you . . . slow down a little. Your fate is always out there, waiting for you. As long as you keep striving for it, you /can't/ fall short of it. You can only fail to reach it by striving too hard and tumbling out of the sky, like Icarus. Do you understand?"
Quark nods, a silent, pensieve expression on his face. The choice Xavier offers to Chris seems almost too easy, yet he understands, for once, that it is the right thing to do. If only doing it was that easy. "It's just..." He sighs, searching for the right words. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I am trying to be too much at once. But it just feels that by slowing down, life seems to fly by me. I just graduated, and I could be--maybe /should/ be--a freshman in college next year. And I'm still not sure if I want to be." He pauses, another frown on his face. No, that doesn't seem to be what he wants to say, either. That's a pretty lame counterpoint. "It is my deep, personal belief that I should develop my powers, learn to master them for any challenges that come along. But I'm not sure whether the teachers here would enjoy having that kind of 'over-zealous' crime-fighting wannabe hanging around your school." Icarus...He sighs, shaking his head at himself. If only he knew what he really, truly wanted, this wouldn't be so hard to explain.
The professor points out, "It's your school, too, although I'll grant that we tend to shy away from encouraging vigilantes of any sort." Xavier pauses then, contemplates the younger man over intertwined fingers steepled against his chin. "Let's take this one step at a time. What would happen if you didn't decide soon -- tonight, tomorrow, next year, whatever you like -- what you want to be? Tell me that. Be honest. What would happen to you? To the world?"
"I don't /want/ to be a vigilante. Honestly. But I can't help but feel that the other teachers would be turned off by what they see as a gung-ho teenager overly excited about using his powers for the greater good." Chris sighs, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms contemplatively. He frowns again in thought, trying to predict what would happen if Quark did as Xavier suggested--if he was uncharacteristically indecisive. "...Well, I wouldn't be in college, for starters. Which means I'd never begin my schooling to be a scientists, or a doctor. I suppose I could always start a semester or a year later, and still not be that far behind. But for as many years as it takes to become a doctor, I'd be too old to do anything if I waited forever to make up my mind."
Continues a mild Xavier, "/Do/ you think it would take you years to make up your mind?"
Quark blinks, tilting his head to the side slightly as he ponders this new question. "Well, I'm not one to be so indecisive. I know my options, I've weighed the pros and cons, and now..." He sighs, shrugging and holding up his hands as if unsure what to say. Finally, he finishes with a quote, "'Choice. The problem is choice.'" No, that's not Frankenstein this time--that's from a good ol' movie we like to call 'The Matrix'.
Reassurance moves through the air between them: some small touch of telepathy now, borne on Xavier's rich, rolling voice. "Yes, it always is. We struggle with that every day, and it rarely gets better. Or worse. It's what makes life worth living: having choice and making it. You don't need to make yours now, this instant, but perhaps you can talk with your teachers to get their input. Professor Summers would be of particular help, I think." Smiling a little sadly, a little fondly, he lowers his hands again to his lap and taps a thoughtful fingertip against the folded newspaper there. "He knows all about making choices, every day of his life, and living with the consequences . . . and going on to make new ones, always new ones. Why do you speak with him sometime? As for your powers, and the X-Men . . ."
The subtlety of Xavier's telepathically expressed reassurance ensures that Quark suddenly finds himself feeling a bit more calm, more relaxed than he had since first walking through that library door. "You're right. Putting off something like this, if only for a while, does not mean I'm being totally indecisive. Just...thoughtful." He sighs, ponders for a minute, and then continues his quote, "'We can never see past the choices we don't understand.' Hmm." At the mention of Scott, he glances up at Xavier, a different kind of frown--one of mild worry and concern--on his face. "I know I shouldn't pry, but...there have been rumors that Sco--err, Professor Summers--has been a little...ermm...odd lately." Darn Jubilee, why'd she have to go and get Quark interested in the rumor mill? She's having a bad influence on him, and that's without even spening much time with her. "Is everything all right?"
Leah (OOC) cackles. No, he's possessed by a malevolent telepathic being. Except for that, he's fine. :>
Approval wings out in Xavier's smile. "Exactly! You /are/ thoughtful, and that's what we want to encourage in you, without sending you into 'analysis paralysis,' as the saying goes. Keep talking with us, Chris, and keep questioning, for your part. You /will/ meet your fate, and it will be worth the wait, and worthy of you." Soft, the promise, but no less strong for that, in his manner, in those kind, wise eyes. "Don't worry about Professor Summers. He's having a -- rough few weeks lately, but it's all under control. 'This too shall pass,' hm? Now, about your powers: is there more that you want to do with them? Any particular training you're seeking? Or is it only more tangible results, let's say -- more immediate action?"
Quark nods slowly, replying, "Well, everyone has rough weeks now and then, I suppose. I should know," he grins. Those rumors were probably just that: rumors, and nothing more. Surely, if it was something serious to be worried about, the students would've been properly informed. But, ah, powers! This he is happy discussing. A renewed smile on his face, albeit only a small one, adorns his face as he replies, "Well, I've gotten pretty good at finely controlling my teleportation. I teleport to and from work each day, so I've been using that time to improve my distance and endurance. I want to get to the point where I can easily teleport someone else with me without feeling drained at all, as well as find ways to apply teleportation to some more interesting...err...combat situations." Which brings up another good point. "Now that I'm graduated and all, I was wondering if I could get some more time in the Danger Room, too. I've been in a few times now and then, but nothing on a frequent basis."
A somber nod leads Xavier to caution, delicately balancing praise and warning, "Keep in close control of your teleportation into the city, as you have been doing so far. I trust to your discretion; the whole school does, in a way, and you're strong enough to carry it, I think." He settles back in his chair. Powers. Yes. /Here/ is a talk to be had, indeed. "Again, Professor Summers would be a good sounding-board for your combat ideas, although he might not have the same view as you do of 'interesting.'" His tone's lightness aims to pull any sting from the words, and his brows' puckish lift. Even the old teacher can appreciate youthful innovation, it seems. "But what about Professor Logan? He spends a good amount of time in the Danger Room; he'd know the schedule the best, how you could fit into it, and with whom you should train. Would you like me to bring it up with him, or would you rather?"
Quark nods sincerely, trying not to look like a young boy being lectured. "Yes, Professor. I always make sure to avoid any witnesses, and I usually walk the last bit after coming into the city. Trust me, I have no intentions of drawing that kind of attention to the school whatsoever." And again with the powers--woohoo! He nods again, replying, "I'll be sure to mention them to Professor Summers sometime when I have the chance, and he's--err--feeling a bit better. And I would be glad if you could mention that to Professor Logan. Otherwise, I can do it myself. It's not a big deal to me, really." He sighs and glances at his now unbandaged hands, adding in a mutter, "Although, after last week, he probably wouldn't believe it if he heard from me." He's not sure whether or not Logan would consider letting Quark into the danger room after he recklessly beat himself up over relationship issues a mere week or so ago.
Picking up on that uncertainty, because he can't not, Xavier nods through the rest of the answer with quiet approval and then asks, "You have no problems with working with him, however, do you? I know that he's not the most . . . gentle of instructors." A bit arch, there, sharing it between just the two of them with only the library for a witness.
Quark blinks and then shakes his head, a larger smile on his face this time. "Who, Professor Logan? No, no! I have no problems working with him at all. I had him as my Japanese teacher these last few years, and although he does have a rather...gruff exterior, he can be quite funny and friendly." Sort of. "If he has no problem working with me, then we'll have no problems at all." He pauses for a few minutes, biting his lower lip in thought as he quietly ponders another idea that's been nagging at him. "Umm...Professor. I know I've already graduated and all, but I was thinking...well, I was wondering if maybe I could stick around for a while? Stay here at the mansion?" He blinks and adds in a rush, "I mean, it'd give me a chance to work with Log--I mean /Professors/ Logan and Summers--and maybe I could be a teacher assistant, or work in the lab with Hank? Like an intern or something, while I figure out what I want to do about...well, everything?" Oh, please say yes?
A chuckle. "My dear Quark, has anyone asked you to move out?" Xavier gleams honest amusement in his smile and the merest touch of mind to mind, like the pure, honeyed essence of affection. "Of course you can stay. I'd never require any of our students to leave the school before he felt ready. There's plenty of room, and as you say, you need to sort out your future. Working with the staff can only help, hm? We'll put our heads together and come up with something."
Quark blinks, and then breaks out into a large, quirky grin. "Really? That is the best news I've heard all night!" Indeed, he feels rejuvenated and lighthearted, exuding feelings of happiness. Finally knowing for a fact that he doesn't have to leave his true home yet, and that he has some time to figure out what to do about his future, takes a large weight off of his chest. "I'll be sure to talk with Dr. McCoy sometime, and discuss the possibilities of being a lab assistant, then. Or help him with his chemistry classes--they're my favorite," he admits.
"Excellent!" Xavier beams back at the young man. Endorphins are contagious. "I'm sure Dr. McCoy would appreciate the help, with Dr. Grey on sabbatical, and it will be good experience for you, for whatever you decide to pursue."
"It's settled, then. If you would be kind enough to discuss Danger Room opportunities with Professor Logan, then I will talk with Professor Summers and Dr. McCoy about staying here and helping out around the school next year. At least, for a while. Until I figure out what I really want to do." He stands, stretching his arms with a small yawn. He eyes Xavier and pauses awkwardly for a moment; he is unsure whether it would be more appropriate to offer a friendly handshake or give him a hug like he would a familiar family member (an uncle, of course, apparently). In the end, he merely says in a quiet, sincere voice, "Thank you again, Professor, for everything. It means the world to me." A quirky grin and a moment later, he tacks on at the end, "And I /must/ play you in a game of chess. I hear you're quite good," he winks.
With a chuckle, Xavier waves a hand to encompass the promises -- and the chess, too, with his head cocked in a return smile. "I'll look forward to it, Mr. Parker. We can continue our conversation then, and I'll also look forward to hearing about your progress. I have every confidence that there will be plenty over the next good while. In the meantime, do have a good evening. You've earned it." Quiet approval, shining pride: his head lifts to his student, and his mind offers a feather's touch of a salute, equal to equal.
Quark nods happily. "Wonderful! I'll be sure to go easy on you," he adds with another wink. He doesn't really expect to win against someone like the great Charles Xavier, but what would competition be without a little playful banter? "I appreciate the confidence. I won't let you down, I promise." That much, he is certain of. With another short nod, he waves before disappearing in a sudden *bamf* of smoke, heading back to his room for the evening. Xavier can rest more easily tonight, however, knowing that at least there is one less teenager in the school broadcasting broody angst for one particular telepath.
Thanks to Leah-player again for a wonderfully awesome scene! I enjoyed it thoroughly.