fifthcurriculum | LOCATIONS

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.

If you can't take the heat, don't start the fucking fire.

[she's smiling. Not at him, just at her own sense of satisfaction. She writes everyone off.]

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.]

So if Harry's not the vampire - you mean Petre?

[To which she rolls her eyes.]

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.

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.]

Yeah, you keep saying that until he mind controls you into bending over and saying 'yes sir, thank you sir'. I'm just glad he's a flaming unicorn.

[A RUSSIAN UNICORN]

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.

[She looks at him weirdly. It's like he's proud because he got in an accident and lost a leg.]

You realize that makes you extra-fucked, right?

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.]

Yeah. Sure.

[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?

[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.

[Doesn't want to know. TMI. Thank.]

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.]

So what is it. [He narrows his eyes curiously.] Tactile illusions?

Sure. I can make your body feel whatever the fuck I want.

[Lest he think she can influence emotions, too.]

[There's a moment where he is very, very obviously considering the positive implications of that; then he remembers the personality she's displayed thus far, and just as obviously comes down to earth.]

Now that sounds like fun. Never lift a finger and convince someone you've got them three seconds from dead.

[She tilts her head back and to the side. Normally people are too moralistic to ever consider that fun. They more easily want distance from her before she gets ideas.]

Pretty much. So don't mess with me.

Who says I wanna mess with you?

[He glances over at the bush of charred flowers.]

Okay, the flowers were messing with you. But that was before I knew how charming you were. [His smile is ironic, but not mean-spirited.]

Right. What was next, showing me a dead bug?

[so childish, John.]

Come on. I know you're a tough crowd, but pyrotechnics are a step above pulling on your pigtails. Credit where it's due won't kill you.

[The words are peppered here and there with laughter. She probably never thought she'd be considered a constant delight, but here she is, meeting John Allerdyce.]

Oh, I know you pyrotechnic types. Think you're firestarters by right and nobody can take you on 'cause you're just so fucking crazy, man.

[you ain't impressed her yet, boyo. But at least she's talking. And not giving you a headache.]

What, mutations aren't our birthright? [His eyebrows go up.] And anyone can take me on. Bring on whoever thinks they can handle it.

Okay. So stand up.

Oh, c'mon. [He does, but he's got a grin on his face.] I actually like you. I don't wanna have to set you on fire.

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paraesthesia - 2014-10-04 09:59 (UTC) - Expand