Hesitant, at breakneck speed (open)

[Hector Vidal]

((OOC: A bit before Learning to Breathe. ))

Manhattan to Westchester is about 40 miles, as the crow flies… at least, according to the Internet.

Admittedly, the Internet is wrong about a lot of things related to the X-Men. As well as potentially right about things he sorta wishes he hadn’t clicked through to. (Not that it’s the first time he’s had to clear his Netscape buffer at home, and not that his folks ever notice anyway, but still… ew.)

But in this particular case, it seems to be more or less on target. And, even with keeping himself down to normal speeds when he’s visible, getting door to door on his ten-speed takes him less than an hour. Man, a guy could get used to this. He’s already started noticing a definite improvement in his physique from all this extra exercise, ever since he started really taking advantage of this “never-get-tired” thing. Far more importantly, the girls hanging around the condo’s pool have started noticing.

And thinking about all of that does a reasonably good job of distracting Hector from the degree of anxiety he’s feeling about this trip. Or, well… it does until he actually reaches the Institute.

He slows down to a slow ride as he heads up the driveway, looking around carefully to make sure no wolves are about to come bounding down his trail. He’s pretty sure that at full tilt he can outrun them on a straight shot, let alone on his bike… but that doesn’t help if they surprise him, or surround him.

Have I gone completely nuts? It’s about the eighteenth time this morning that he’s asked himself that question, and his answer is never quite as definitive as he’d like. After all, he’s sitting here worried about being eviscerated by werewolves… that is not the sign of a healthy mind. On the other hand, it had happened!

And even that, really, is just a distraction from a decision he knows he’s trying to avoid making. Josh had made it pretty clear that the Institute wanted him as a student. And it’s tempting. Mom would love it, of course… full scholarship to an upstate prep school with some pretty impressive credentials, something to brag to all her friends about. (And he has to give Josh credit for not making the offer to her. His choice. As it should be.) And it’s not a bad deal.

Plus the whole business of getting to meet other mutants, which the truth is makes him nervous as hell, but is probably a good thing given that he’s one himself. Which also makes him nervous as hell.

Plus, pretty girls. Pretty mutant girls, granted. Which is creepy, he thinks, but on the other hand, I wouldn’t have to pretend to sleep with them. Um… pretend to sleep, around them.

On the other other hand, though, this place is freakin’ dangerous. Danny’d seemed like a pretty OK guy, then he went all wolfy and ripped my freakin’ guts out! He’d apologized about it afterwards, and Hector sorta gets that it was a freak accident, but it still makes him nervous.

Anyway, he’d agreed to come visit under less viscera-damaging circumstances, so here he is. What happens now, though, he really isn’t sure.

Guess I’ll find out soon enough, he muses, chaining his bike to a nearby stand and jogging up the stairs to the front door.

[Megan Drukker]

Experiment number three. So far, Megan figures, she's doing pretty damn well figuring out how 'all this freaky shit' actually works (because when it comes to that 'showing Josh what she can do' thing, she'd rather not have to say "I have no idea"...); she's managed to conclude that imminent danger equals fangs, claws et al, and submarining adventures mean scales, webbing and, if she forces it past the 'lungs burning' stage, some sort of gill-like things (which are weird).

Now, it's a throwaway comment Warren made, something about whether she'd develop wings if he took her for a spin, that's playing on her mind.

It's a crazy scheme, because if she doesn't, then this is likely to end rather badly.

On the other hand, her mutation hasn't let her down yet (and 'yet', she tells herself, so isn't the operative word in that sentence). And she's fallen out of enough trees in her time. This is just a little... higher. Yep.

It's been a waiting game, trying to find a time when no one's around (because having to explain exactly why she's launching herself out of the window in trackie bottoms and regulation "Xavier Institute" gym vest isn't something she's looking forward to), and now the conditions seem pretty optimal... Megan takes a deep breath, perched on the window ledge, swings her legs around so they're dangling outside, and - onetwothreego! - tips her weight forward and...

... hmm. Falling doesn't feel as much like, well, falling, as she'd expected...

She opens her eyes and... nope, the floor's not rushing up. Very weird.

The reason becomes apparent rather quickly; a prickling pins-and-needles feeling in her fingertips lets her know she's still hanging on to the window ledge. So much for scientific inquiry[/color].

Take Two; she moves her hand to the wall outside the window, pressing back against it, ready for another go...

... hmm. Maybe this isn't the best idea. It's a long way down, after all. Might be better to just take Warren up on his offer; at least that way if she fails miserably she'll have a guardian angel looking out for her...

Megan pulls her hand back off the wall. It's a little more difficult than she'd have normally expected... is that... sticky? A few experimental finger-flicks don't do anything to remedy the feeling, but there's no visible residue or anything on her skin. It just feels... yeah, sticky. Weird.

The other hand's feeling sticky too, come to think of it... Very odd. Swinging her legs back inside, she rummages in her bag (which would be a hell of a lot easier if things didn't seem to randomly cling to her skin, as if she's charged up with static electricity like a party balloon someone's been rubbing with wool in an attempt to make their hair stand on end or stick it to a wall...), eventually finding her magnifying glass. It's old, and scratched up something rotten, so she can't be sure, but... are those hooks? It looks like someone's coated her palm in very tiny velcro, and...

Somewhere between balloons sticking to walls, and tiny velcro, a mad notion seizes her. Experiment number four....

----

It's a more exhilarating feeling than she'd expected, wall-crawling. She heads up to the roof first, and then - head pointing down, like a gecko - down to the lawn, flipping her legs over her head, her body arching into a semi-perfect bridge, as she reaches the bottom and flicks upright with an exhilarated "Hell YEAH!"

... only then does she notice that she's got an audience, and flush slightly, playing nervously with a rogue strand of fringe before recovering her composure and delivering an extravagant bow (complete with over-dramatic ringmaster-style flourish) and impish grin. "Diolch yn fawr iawn, daaahlink." (the 'darling' is over-extended, and delivered in a faux-russian accent before the more customary brassy valleys tones come back in) "I'll be 'ere all week."


<sub>In which Megan develops Setules - handwave-handwave over the whole 'closer than one nanometer' so she can 'see' that something's there. Physics be damned.
- Dioch yn fawr iawn - ta very much / big thanks etc</sub>

[Hector Vidal]

> "Hell YEAH!"

Hector is too busy searching the trees for wolves to notice Megan’s decidedly creepy wall-crawl as he makes his way up the stairs, but her shout of exultation catches his attention, and he looks over as she makes a big dramatic bow.

> " Diolch yn fawr iawn, daaahlink. I'll be 'ere all week."

He’s not really clear what she’s so proud about. Or what on Earth she just said about the front lawn. Or, really, well, anything. But he’s pretty sure she’s not going to rip his throat out, which right at the moment is a point in her favor. Besides, he likes her smile.

"Congratulations? I’d applaud more if I had any idea what I’m supposed to be applauding…"

[Megan Drukker]

< Congratulations? I’d applaud more if I had any idea what I’m supposed to be applauding…
... Ah.

Right. This is probably one of the kids with a really 'cool' mutation, Megan reasons, to whom the whole gecko stunt's probably a yawnfest... or else they've been here long enough to have taken a whopper of a dose of the 'chill out drugs' she's still half-convinced must be going into the water supply (because really, how the hell can people be so casual about kids bursting into flames and a freakin' secret underground superhero complex... thing?) and the sight isn't registering as anything other than a "... meh".

Ah, whatever. She'll have to get used to lukewarm receptions sooner or later, right?

"Eh, nowt special. Not really" - she shrugs, and shifts from graceful performer to gawky teenager in the space of a heartbeat, scratching her scalp thoughtfully and squinting at her companion. "I'm guessin' what you've got is a showstopper, though..."

She grins again, with a sly wink, and tilts her head sidelong, waiting for the demonstration; the Institute-wide game-come-initiation-ritual, a variant on 'I'll show you mine, you show me yours', hasn't passed her by.

[Hector Vidal]

> " Eh, nowt special. Not really. I'm guessin' what you've got is a showstopper, though... "

"Ain’t heard any complaints yet," he tosses back with a wink, before he even thinks about it. He’s a little taken aback by her forthrightness, but at the same time it’s kinda cool… brassy but not vulgar. He decides he likes this girl.

He trots back down the stairs and extends a hand in greeting. "Name’s Hector. My friends call me Hector. Pardon me for not bowing," he adds with a grin, "…and I won’t be here all week, just popping in to visit. Glad I got here in time for your, um, performance? though."

[Megan Drukker]

< Ain't heard any complaints yet
... touché. That there's no display takes her somewhat aback, but the banter's a welcome change from facility tours, breakdowns of powers, strained introductions and demands for subject choices and medical forms and all manner of random paperwork. Where's this kid been so far, dammit? Her lip curls in a half-smirk. "Y'got me intrigued now, love..."

< Name’s Hector. My friends call me Hector
"Megan. M'friends call me 'what the bloody 'ell's that?', or did the las' time I saw 'em" she shoots back, reaching out to deliver handshake number god-only-knows-how-many, when... ah. Still sticky. And being stuck to someone - even someone as apparently charming, witty and (she takes a good look) not-totally-aesthetically-displeasing as Hector - would be one embarrassing situation too far for a week that's already straining at the seams. Curling her hand over into a fist instead, she lightly punches his palm with her knuckles and grins... a more than adequate substitute greeting, aye?

< I won't be here all week
... what?

< just popping in to visit
... ah. He's not a resident then? So, that'd make him... a graduate? Or a friend of one of the 'real' residents, or something. This isn't the sort of place people just randomly drop in to, she reasons. Shame. There's a slight tinge of disappointment in her question: "Y'not a student?"

< Glad I got here in time for your, um, performance? though
Megan pops another grin and a second bow (this time a more demure bob). "Any time, 'ector... y'drop in again an' fancy a private show, jus' let me know"

... some day she'll get the hang of thinking before she speaks. For now, 'I just can't help myself' isn't that flimsy a defense... right?

[Hector Vidal]

> " Y'got me intrigued now, love... "

Hector returns the smirk with something that rapidly turns into a broad grin. "Excellent. Intrigued enough to join me for coffee?" He’s a little taken aback by the palm-punch, but accepts it philosophically enough. " I’ll wash my hands first, promise. Been biking for the last hour or so."

> " Y'not a student?"

With the finely honed senses of a teenage male around a pretty girl, Hector picks up the tinge of disappointment in her voice and instinctively adapts. "Oh, um… no, yeah! I’m a student… um. " …just not here, his mind completes silently. Not really a lie, right? Besides, he might be a student here. What’s a little evisceration among friends? "Not living here for the summer, though." That much is true enough, anyway.

> " Any time, 'ector... y'drop in again an' fancy a private show, jus' let me know "

And Hector wishes he were surer she’s bluffing, or that she isn’t, but the rules of the game are clear on the matter… the boy doesn’t get to back down. "Well, tell you the truth Megan, I wasn’t all that interested in coffee… and I’ve got some time before my meeting. How private have you got in mind?"

[Megan Drukker]

< Intrigued enough to join me for coffee?
Her brow furrows and she wrinkles her nose in (mostly) mock disgust, having never really liked the stuff and been further put off by what seems to pass for it over here (when she does deign to drink it, it's a 'as much milk and syrup and foam as possible' affair, but all she's been able to find in the Institute cupboards is liver-pickling rocket fuel.... and lots of it). She shrugs - "I'll sit an' watch you drink that shite if that floats y'boat..."

< I'll wash my hands first, promise
Megan blinks - "Y'what?" - before it sinks in. Clearly the not-shaking-hands is taken a little more seriously than she'd thought, and the punch has come across badly. Making the flustered 'I'm trying to explain' handwavey-gesture that's rapidly becoming her signature, she blurts out "It's no' that. N-uh. It's my 'ands I'm worryin' about 'ere. Sticky, see?" - the wave switches, momentarily, to a flexing movement - "Apparen'ly whatever part'a'm'brain thinks claws are "so very now" wants velcro 'ands t'be the Autumn must 'ave. It's weird."

< Oh, um… no, yeah! I’m a student… um
... Really?[/color] She's unconvinced - yeah, no, which is it? Get y'story straight[/color]

< Not living here for the summer, though
... oh. That makes sense... kinda. She's sort of started to assume everyone here falls into the waif-and-stray category, especially after Josh drove home the whole 'surrogate family' thing. But it makes sense that there'd be some decent-ish people out there who wouldn't just dump their kid for being a little bit mutated. And it's not like Hector's got an obvious mutation they could be embarrassed and awkward about, and if he was dangerous then they probably wouldn't be chatting amicably, so...

"Really? Who y'here visitin'?" she asks, casual-as-you-like, hoping that the turn their conversation's taken doesn't leave this sounding like a 'have you got a girlfriend?' sort of inquiry.

< Well, tell you the truth Megan, I wasn’t all that interested in coffee… and I’ve got some time before my meeting. How private have you got in mind?
She swallows, hard, her eyes widening - he totally didn't really just say that, did he? Bloody 'ell. Maybe, just maybe, she might have gone a bit too far there - and for a second or two just sort of gawps at him... Regaining some sort of control, her cheeks flushed, she does her best to look predatory, her dark smirk - when it manages not to waver - a fairly admirable attempt. "C'mon, darlin', y've seen mine already...." (yes, damnit, this is still a conversation about powers. Mhmm. Totally innocent.) "Might be polite t'repro... recipri... t'show me yours."

[Hector Vidal]

> " It's no' that. N-uh. It's my 'ands I'm worryin' about 'ere. Sticky, see? Apparen'ly whatever part'a'm'brain thinks claws are "so very now" wants velcro 'ands t'be the Autumn must 'ave. It's weird. "

Hector understands maybe a third of that. Claws? Velcro? Autumn? He settles for nodding vaguely.

> " Really? Who y'here visitin'?"

"Oh… um, Josh, I guess. " There’s a bit of an awkward silence and he decides it would help if he gave more names. "And I should probably say Hi to Danny, let him know there’s no hard feelings. And, um," he flushes a little, "maybe Veronica." OK, maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that one.

> " How private have you got in mind?"

Her reaction establishes two things in Hector’s mind… she was bluffing, and he’d won that round. He grins a little smugly…

> " C'mon, darlin', y've seen mine already.... Might be polite t'repro... recipri... t'show me yours. "

…then sputters. "I – what? I didn’t – I mean, I wasn’t – huh?"

[Megan Drukker]

He doesn't ask for any clarification; she unsure whether that's a good sign. Maybe Matty has a big mouth, or maybe Hector's also read this mysterious 'file' of hers. Or maybe it's the drugs in the water supply. Whatever. She doesn't feel like elaborating - there're a lot of big words in the explanation.

Josh... fair enough; he'd mentioned something about working closely with students to help them get a grip (on their powers, damnit... nothing else. Apparently she's not quite over the awkward Mr-and-Mr-Worthington conversation, and this one isn't exactly helping to keep her mind pure... it's totally Hector's fault. Obviously). And Danny's clearly someone he's had some sort of disagreement, so she can totally understand wanting to get bad blood over and done with before the summer holidays kick in... but Veronica?

She's not jealous or anything - that'd be ridiculous - disinterested is what she is. Mhmm. Yawning to show just how totally disinterested she is, Megan comments casually "Vero? ... pretty chick, think I knows the one y'mean... 'aven't really warmed to 'er yet..."

< I – what? I didn’t – I mean, I wasn’t – huh?
His smug grin at her fumble doesn't make things any better... though the spluttering which follows is so worth it. This hand isn't over yet...

... or maybe it is, because it's obvious some sorta clarifying explanation... thing is in order. But she didn't lose the round, that's the important part. Glancing at him sidelong again - "You sure we're both talkin' about powers 'ere, pet?" - she can't resist adding a final triumphant "Oh! Right! Y'thought... aww, sorry t'disappoint. Maybe next time" and another wicked grin and sly wink.

[Hector Vidal]

Hector keeps getting the impression that Megan is waiting for him to say, or ask, something that he hasn’t yet… and no, he’s pretty sure it isn’t that, for all their flirting, which he has to admit is a lot of fun.

> " Vero? ... pretty chick, think I knows the one y'mean... 'aven't really warmed to 'er yet... "

It’s not the comment so much as the overly self-conscious yawn that causes Hector’s eyes to light up, at once playful and predatory. She’s jealous!, he thinks with a grin. Hah! "Oh… well, I guess that’s not too surprising," he replies with a casual drawl. "Seems like pretty girls never really get along all that well with each other. Ever noticed that? I guess they just see each other too much as competition."

> " You sure we're both talkin' about powers 'ere, pet? "

Talking about what? Pow – oh! Powers! He feels a little foolish for not having realized. This is a mutant school, after all. "Um. Right. Of course we are, I knew that. Just… well, what are your powers, then?"

[Megan Drukker]

< Seems like pretty girls never really get along all that well with each other. Ever noticed that?
Megan shrugs, with another half-yawn - "Can' say I 'ave". Which is sorta-true; the ways of the 'normal' girl might as well be those of an alien species, really, given that she'd been surrounded by boys from day one and never stayed in any one place long enough to infiltrate the local teenage *clique*.

< I guess they just see each other too much as competition
She snorts at that. "'s one theory. Pretty rid-onk-ulous one if y'ask me. I'd 'ave t'be totally didlo t'waste time envyin'... Y'think she's pretty?" Gasping, as if coming to a sudden revelation, she claps her hands over her mouth melodramatically before pointing at Hector with a wicked grin, her tone sing-song, teasing. "Is that why y'r here t'see 'er? Y'got y'self a monisha there?"

< Um. Right. Of course we are, I knew that
"Sure y'did, pet." - she rolls her eyes, patting him mock-consolingly on the shoulder - "I believe y', thousands wouldn'..."

< what are your powers, then?
Drawing herself up to her full height, as if swollen with pride, Megan responds " 'Adaptive Metamorp'sis modified b'empathic stimulus.' ... sounds like a disease, don't it? What 'bout you, what's your diagnosis?"

<sub>- didlo - crazy
- monisha - girlfriend</sub>