"That was amazing. I've never seen anybody flip Logan like that. Without using powers, I mean," Scott said breathlessly. They'd ended up in Scott's room after practice, after showers. He was sprawled on the bed, head over the side. Matt had taken a spot on the floor where he could feel the vibrations of conversations below rumble through his rib cage. It was a weird sensation, but the whole day had been weird, and it was weird in a kinda good day.
"I was using my," he really didn't want to say powers, that sounded ridiculous, "hearing. Logan's bones are metal, you know. It throws off his whole center of gravity. I can just sorta feel it."
"It was still amazing. And you couldn't see the look on his face either."
"What did it look like?"
"Somewhere between pure shock, utter confusion and 'wha-huh? that doesn't happen to me'. It was gold. Hey, I know we were just running around forever, but do you want to go outside? I've got this perfect shady spot out back, we could, I dunno. Play catch? Just sit. Whatever you wanted."
"My legs feel like mush," Matt said. He pulled himself onto his feet with a grimace. "Lead the way, Summers. You have trees round these parts? I've always wanted to climb a tree."
"I think I could scrounge up a tree if you really wanted one." Scott pulled on a pair of shoes and led the way out into the hall. "Wait, you can't see. Has anyone told you about the interior decorating in here?"
"Um, no? I can tell there's a lot of wood paneling, it's got a distinctive scent. And canvas, oil, probably paintings. There are curtains by the windows, but that's about all I've got."
So Scott launches into a detailed description of a Victorian tutor romance style mansion beset by floral print curtains and pointed out all the movie posters that students had hung to replace classic landscapes that had been 'misplaced'. They weren't feeling the stairs, so they took the elevator down, which was disconcertingly quiet with very little airflow. Matt pointed out that none of the buttons were labeled in braille and Scott very seriously replied that he would "talk it over with the professor".
"Does he like you? He didn't seem to want me here," Matt said, neglecting to mention that he knew for sure what the professor had mentioned on the subject.
"Like is a strong word for the professor, I think. He has to exert a lot of control to not accidentally end up in people's heads - telepaths, you know. So he tries to maintain emotional distance to make that easier. That's my theory anyway. But he seems to appreciate having me around, I think. I've been here longest, actually. Ororo and Logan came on as adults. The professor has some colleagues near his age, but they don't stay here full time."
"How long?" Matt asks. They take a side door out onto the drive and then cut around the back of the house to the grass.
"Five years at this point. Picked me up from an orphanage in Nebraska."
"I was already at St. Agnes five years ago," Matt said. He didn't say, I wish someone had brought me here back then. Who knows if that was even true. Instead he said, "Which way to the trees, Mr. Summers? Point me and I'll race you."
"Weren't you the one complaining about being tired?" Scott said. He took Matt's shoulders and pivoted him maybe fourteen degrees to the left. There was something in the distance there, beyond the grass, which only came up to mid-calf. The wind above rustled through leaves and defined an outline that wavered in and out of focus.
"Maybe I was trying to throw you off so I'd win." Damn, that didn't even make sense. He hadn't spent so much time talking to someone in...maybe years. Ah well, maybe if he ran off Scott would be distracted and wouldn't notice. "See you there!"
"Unlikely," Scott said, taking off at a sprint after Matt.
The ground was uneven and near impossible to sense under the sway of the grass, so he just rolled with it and tried not to stumble. The trees loomed as he got closer, the sounds of Scott's breathing and near laughter dancing by his left shoulder.
He hit a root with his left foot, tried to recover, realized in a moment of panic that he was going way too fast and hit the dirt. He had enough time to get his hands under him before he hit. Scott, right on his heels, tripped on his legs and fell on top of him.
"Nobody saw that, right? Please tell me nobody saw that," Matt said, wiggling out from under Scott to maneuver himself to sitting.
"No clue," Scott said, voice slightly pinched. "Hey Matt, my glasses kinda went flying. Any chance you could-"
"Yeah, um, just maybe hold your breath for a moment?" Glasses didn't make noise. The grass was tall enough to hide a pair of glasses the same way it had hidden the tree root. They didn't have much of a scent, just a trace of Scott, but probably not enough to go off of. They'd be the same temperature as the ambient air.
Glasses didn't make noise under normal circumstances. Matt hoisted his folded cane in his left hand and tapped it on the ground. Nothing. He felt around for something solid, found a rock and tried again. Something hummed in the grass in front of them. Matt picked up the rock and tested a few steps closer. Bingo. He grabbed the glasses and passed them to Scott.
"Vibrations?" Scott said, relaxing once th glasses were seated back on his face.
"Everything vibrates if it's noisy enough. Easier with my cane, I didn't think to bring it with me. Give me some warning next time you're going to have a glasses emergency."
"Wouldn't have happened if the master of vibrations over here hadn't tripped me."
"Eh, the grass is mucking everything up. I've discovered my one true weakness. Grass."
"Well don't tell Logan or he'll have you out in the yard cutting it one blade at a time. He's big into conquering your limitations in symbolic ways, I think he picked it up on one of his spiritual journeys to Japan. And he hates lawn work."
"I'll take that under advisement. Hey, Scott?"
"Yeah?"
"If I get to stay here," he wasn't going to say that was a given, once you started counting on a thing it went away, "want to be friends?"
Re: Matt + the X-Men [FILL 7/8]
"That was amazing. I've never seen anybody flip Logan like that. Without using powers, I mean," Scott said breathlessly. They'd ended up in Scott's room after practice, after showers. He was sprawled on the bed, head over the side. Matt had taken a spot on the floor where he could feel the vibrations of conversations below rumble through his rib cage. It was a weird sensation, but the whole day had been weird, and it was weird in a kinda good day.
"I was using my," he really didn't want to say powers, that sounded ridiculous, "hearing. Logan's bones are metal, you know. It throws off his whole center of gravity. I can just sorta feel it."
"It was still amazing. And you couldn't see the look on his face either."
"What did it look like?"
"Somewhere between pure shock, utter confusion and 'wha-huh? that doesn't happen to me'. It was gold. Hey, I know we were just running around forever, but do you want to go outside? I've got this perfect shady spot out back, we could, I dunno. Play catch? Just sit. Whatever you wanted."
"My legs feel like mush," Matt said. He pulled himself onto his feet with a grimace. "Lead the way, Summers. You have trees round these parts? I've always wanted to climb a tree."
"I think I could scrounge up a tree if you really wanted one." Scott pulled on a pair of shoes and led the way out into the hall. "Wait, you can't see. Has anyone told you about the interior decorating in here?"
"Um, no? I can tell there's a lot of wood paneling, it's got a distinctive scent. And canvas, oil, probably paintings. There are curtains by the windows, but that's about all I've got."
So Scott launches into a detailed description of a Victorian tutor romance style mansion beset by floral print curtains and pointed out all the movie posters that students had hung to replace classic landscapes that had been 'misplaced'. They weren't feeling the stairs, so they took the elevator down, which was disconcertingly quiet with very little airflow. Matt pointed out that none of the buttons were labeled in braille and Scott very seriously replied that he would "talk it over with the professor".
"Does he like you? He didn't seem to want me here," Matt said, neglecting to mention that he knew for sure what the professor had mentioned on the subject.
"Like is a strong word for the professor, I think. He has to exert a lot of control to not accidentally end up in people's heads - telepaths, you know. So he tries to maintain emotional distance to make that easier. That's my theory anyway. But he seems to appreciate having me around, I think. I've been here longest, actually. Ororo and Logan came on as adults. The professor has some colleagues near his age, but they don't stay here full time."
"How long?" Matt asks. They take a side door out onto the drive and then cut around the back of the house to the grass.
"Five years at this point. Picked me up from an orphanage in Nebraska."
"I was already at St. Agnes five years ago," Matt said. He didn't say, I wish someone had brought me here back then. Who knows if that was even true. Instead he said, "Which way to the trees, Mr. Summers? Point me and I'll race you."
"Weren't you the one complaining about being tired?" Scott said. He took Matt's shoulders and pivoted him maybe fourteen degrees to the left. There was something in the distance there, beyond the grass, which only came up to mid-calf. The wind above rustled through leaves and defined an outline that wavered in and out of focus.
"Maybe I was trying to throw you off so I'd win." Damn, that didn't even make sense. He hadn't spent so much time talking to someone in...maybe years. Ah well, maybe if he ran off Scott would be distracted and wouldn't notice. "See you there!"
"Unlikely," Scott said, taking off at a sprint after Matt.
The ground was uneven and near impossible to sense under the sway of the grass, so he just rolled with it and tried not to stumble. The trees loomed as he got closer, the sounds of Scott's breathing and near laughter dancing by his left shoulder.
He hit a root with his left foot, tried to recover, realized in a moment of panic that he was going way too fast and hit the dirt. He had enough time to get his hands under him before he hit. Scott, right on his heels, tripped on his legs and fell on top of him.
"Nobody saw that, right? Please tell me nobody saw that," Matt said, wiggling out from under Scott to maneuver himself to sitting.
"No clue," Scott said, voice slightly pinched. "Hey Matt, my glasses kinda went flying. Any chance you could-"
"Yeah, um, just maybe hold your breath for a moment?" Glasses didn't make noise. The grass was tall enough to hide a pair of glasses the same way it had hidden the tree root. They didn't have much of a scent, just a trace of Scott, but probably not enough to go off of. They'd be the same temperature as the ambient air.
Glasses didn't make noise under normal circumstances. Matt hoisted his folded cane in his left hand and tapped it on the ground. Nothing. He felt around for something solid, found a rock and tried again. Something hummed in the grass in front of them. Matt picked up the rock and tested a few steps closer. Bingo. He grabbed the glasses and passed them to Scott.
"Vibrations?" Scott said, relaxing once th glasses were seated back on his face.
"Everything vibrates if it's noisy enough. Easier with my cane, I didn't think to bring it with me. Give me some warning next time you're going to have a glasses emergency."
"Wouldn't have happened if the master of vibrations over here hadn't tripped me."
"Eh, the grass is mucking everything up. I've discovered my one true weakness. Grass."
"Well don't tell Logan or he'll have you out in the yard cutting it one blade at a time. He's big into conquering your limitations in symbolic ways, I think he picked it up on one of his spiritual journeys to Japan. And he hates lawn work."
"I'll take that under advisement. Hey, Scott?"
"Yeah?"
"If I get to stay here," he wasn't going to say that was a given, once you started counting on a thing it went away, "want to be friends?"
"Yeah Matt, I think I'd like that."