[And her face creaks into a smile. It really shouldn't suit her, seeing as she's a piece of shit 105% of the time, but Jewell really does have a pretty smile.]
Damn, that one's harsh. [He's still grinning, though.] He's actually a good time, don't write him off too fast. But I think five hundred bucks is lowballing it on the hair.
I don't even feel heat. If I did, it wouldn't be offense on anyone else's behalf, trust me.
[Which is why he's not asking about Ryan. He can get a bit strange and protective about Ryan, and he's not even willing to admit that to himself, never mind show it to anyone else.]
Not my fault the fire joke went south on you. That's why I tell people to just not make them. Better for everyone involved.
[He snorts, covering his mouth with one hand.]
Romanian. Yeah, that's Petre. This is one ass he'll never get to, and he knows it damn well, but thanks for the warning. Good to know someone's looking out for my honour. [Still just barely stifling the laughter that really wants to come out.]
He won't, though. That's the thing about getting a mutation that can control other people - mutants like that always wanna prove they could do it without that power. And I'm his test case.
[He sits back smugly, hands behind his head.]
Even telepathically-derived mutations have a weakness.
It makes me the target of a crazy stalker. That sucks, I'll admit. But one who'll never get me to bend over and say "yes sir, thank you sir" because he's got a point to prove. And he's all about being right.
[Where's the problem there? It's a complete catch-22. Petre's made himself incapable of winning.]
[He's thought about that, but his death doesn't mean that Petre wins either. The stakes are just too high to explain. So he simply shrugs in response to that look.]
It's not my first choice. [Accurate enough to his current understanding of his sexuality, which is still a bit muddled.] Not like there's much selection around here anyway. Not many really interesting people come along.
[There's that word again. He's backed off on the high-level sleaze a bit, though, because she's actually entertaining.]
Guess nobody gives a fuck about this place being a school. Not a brothel.
[not that she's a puritan - she strives to be the absolute opposite, really - but things tend to get ridiculous when teenagers and hormones are involved.]
[If only she knew how ridiculous they already were.]
Hey, if anyone starts charging, they're smart. Stick a bunch of teenagers with innate powers they're not supposed to use in a mansion with closed grounds and fucking's gonna happen.
I'd fucking love to walk in on them. Not to watch, I'm not a fucking creep - but I'd give them an instant cold shower and they'd never know what fucking hit them. Boner dead on the spot.
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[looks so serious right now.]
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[HE'S JUST SAYING.]
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[Mockery is dripping from his tone.]
What a way to treat an obvious lady. Alright, please, will you do me the pleasure of sharing your opinions on the rest of the school?
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Since you asked me so nicely.
Pick someone.
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Obvious first choice. The Professor.
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That's cheating. Pretty sure that's his actual title.
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[He takes a seat on the bench beside her, then glances over with a little grin.]
Please. And thank you.
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Five-hundred dollar bowl-cut crackwhore.
[Or not.]
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[she's smiling. Not at him, just at her own sense of satisfaction. She writes everyone off.]
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[Which is why he's not asking about Ryan. He can get a bit strange and protective about Ryan, and he's not even willing to admit that to himself, never mind show it to anyone else.]
So if Harry's not the vampire - you mean Petre?
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Okay, special snowflake. Welcome to the fucking kingdom of every other snowflake on Earth.
[She's picking at her hair again. Not a nervous habit, just... a habit.]
Don't know. The Russian guy. He's been buttfucking half the school since he got here.
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[He snorts, covering his mouth with one hand.]
Romanian. Yeah, that's Petre. This is one ass he'll never get to, and he knows it damn well, but thanks for the warning. Good to know someone's looking out for my honour. [Still just barely stifling the laughter that really wants to come out.]
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[A RUSSIAN UNICORN]
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[He sits back smugly, hands behind his head.]
Even telepathically-derived mutations have a weakness.
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You realize that makes you extra-fucked, right?
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[Where's the problem there? It's a complete catch-22. Petre's made himself incapable of winning.]
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[Arches her brows and widens her eyes because... you're fucked, dude. Crazy stalkers who don't get what they want turn to murder.]
And you're all about keeping your ass a one-way street?
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It's not my first choice. [Accurate enough to his current understanding of his sexuality, which is still a bit muddled.] Not like there's much selection around here anyway. Not many really interesting people come along.
[There's that word again. He's backed off on the high-level sleaze a bit, though, because she's actually entertaining.]
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[not that she's a puritan - she strives to be the absolute opposite, really - but things tend to get ridiculous when teenagers and hormones are involved.]
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Hey, if anyone starts charging, they're smart. Stick a bunch of teenagers with innate powers they're not supposed to use in a mansion with closed grounds and fucking's gonna happen.
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I'd fucking love to walk in on them. Not to watch, I'm not a fucking creep - but I'd give them an instant cold shower and they'd never know what fucking hit them. Boner dead on the spot.
[HAH.]
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