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Wither was found in the cafeteria. Not that he ate with other students. Hell he couldn't even eat real food anymore. It was all water and dietary supplements for him. Fun. stuff. The gloves and shoes were back on and that was a start. No accidents this way at least. There was a book he was flipping through with his glass of water and a pile of spoons 'borrowed' from the caf. Odds were 50/50 if he was taking them to weld into a thing. THe book seemed to be opened to heat properties of titanium as an alloy.
Doug comes in from the cafeteria, with dinner — chicken and rice and vegetables — and some juice and a cup of coffee. He looks around, and then he walks over to Kevin, and stands on the other side of the table. His eyes go up. "Hey, Kevin. Can I sit?"
Wither looked up slightly. It was Cypher. A slow nod followed and he murmured evenly, "Hey man, go ahead. Trust me no one else is sitting there. Just, catchin up on welding techniques. Titanium's a lil different at different heats and changes properties. THought I'd find some and try it out." His eyes drift over to teh chicken and rice, and then up to Cypher with some reservation, but more curiosity.
Doug sits down, and then says, "You weld, huh? That's… really cool, actually." He picks at his food, and then he says "I just thought I'd come say hello, and sit with you. We don't have to talk, if you don't want to." He cuts his chicken, carefully, and then begins to eat. "You know. Sometimes it's just nice to sit with someone."
Wither chewed on his lip and listened. He looked around the room in a quick glance to Doug giving him a nod. Okay he was game it seemed. "Kevin. Ford. Nice to meet you properly I guess. Yeah, um, thanks, actually. Dont really get a lot of that. People don't really get excited about sittingwith a social piriah. But yeah!" He picked up a bit, "I'm what they're calling an 'industrail artist'. Take stuff that used to be other stuff and make new stuff out of it. I'm working for a mobile art piece for the west garden. GOnna try to get Dizzy to help me balance it out though. What about you? What do you do for fun?"
Doug thinks about that, and then says, "People think a lot of stupid things, don't they?" He takes a sip of his coffee, and says "Oh. Well, I'm all over the place I guess. I read, I teach. I translate—but that's not really a challenge, you know? I'm really interested in computers. Mostly, I guess I'm just a student of life. In other words… I'm still figuring out what I do."
Wither broke a faint grin, "Student of life? Good way to put it. So from what I heard, you're the guy who can just… read like everything. I mean that's convenient but do you know what the words mean when you seem themlike conceptwise? Always wanted to ask that to a telepath but they're kinda creepy." Says death boy. "What do you teach? Math, yoga, anger management?" He was curious. It was conversation and he didn't always get to do a lot of that.
"Oh. Well, yes. Literal meaning's easier to understand than inferred meaning, but I am able to get both." He studies his food, and says "It just comes to me, you know? If I hear or look at a language I've never heard before, I kind of just fall into it. It starts with intuitive understanding of repeated letters, sounds, words… and then in the span of anywhere from seconds to minutes I just have all of it. It works that way for any pattern, really. Musical notes, microexpressions, information about a building based on studying the exterior—It just comes to me." Doug pauses. "Sometimes it gets overwhelming… a lot to take in."
Wither furrowed his brow and rest his chin in his hands, "Man, that sounds like a lot of a lot. How you sleep I dunno.Guess it makes sense though. I mean I find new things to work wihth for a medium, you expierement and see how it's similar to what you know hten it jsut sounds like it becomes its own thing after that. Not bad. That scare you when that first happened? I mean you don't have to… you know. Just… sorta curious. So many people make it seem like oh yeah I woke up a rock star it was great but I dunno. I wonder."
"My power unfolded gradually." Doug says. "I didn't actually know I was a Mutant until I was invited to the school, though my father was one of the attorneys Xavier kept on retainer, and I'd hung out with some of the other students before I started taking classes here. At first, it was just languages — written and spoken stuff, like being able to instantly solve the Jumble in the paper — but as I got older my powers grew." He takes another bite of his chicken, and then looks up.
Wither frowned, "Well.. that part doesn't sound fun at all." He idly swirled his water glass and hesitated but offered, "Dad an' I used to do his crossword in the paper. We'd sort out the jumble, go grab breakfast, and he'd drop me off at school." He quieted and nodded slowly, "WAs good. So your dad is cool with you bein a mutant an' stuff? Or I mean it osunds like it if he was helpin and landed you a gig here."
"Oh. No." Doug says, before he pushes his food around on the plate. "Honestly? I never told him. I haven't talked to my parents very much. You know? I just… this school gets crazy, you know? My parents are a Mormon lawyer and his wife. This isn't…" He sighs, "It's not a world I want to make them a part of. It wouldn't be good for them." He looks down. "It's selfish, I guess? But I just… my instincts tell me it's the right choice. Do you still talk to your dad?"
Wither had a genuine sympathy hearing he didn't tell him. "If your parents love you, you should think about tellin em. If you think it's right though for now? Maybe waiting is a thing, but…man. That's rough. My dad was really cool about it at first." Kevin paled a bit and closed his eyes emotion going out of his tone, "He tried to help me when I got my powers and… died from them." His jaw tightened and he swallowed looking up to Doug, "For a moment though? I had all his support. Heeeee was the baest."
"I went to Europe and didn't talk to them for four years." Doug admits, "Except for the occasional phone call so they knew I was all right. I had dinner with them when I got home… and I discovered that in a real way I didn't know them anymore." He pauses, and then puts his fork down. "…Kevin. I wanted to sit with you, because I see how lonely you are sometimes. I don't really have any words of wisdom I can give you. I don't know if you'll ever be able to control your powers. And I get it — I've seen it happen to other Mutants. Do you know Rogue? You might… want to talk to her. She has a very similar problem."
Wither shook his head taking a deep breath. It was a year ago, but it was still hard. He reckoned it always would be and in a way was glad. He listened to Doug but his eyes fell back down to the book because it happened to be on the table in front of him. A nod confirmed Doug's theory. When he asked about Rogue he paused but shook his head. "Heard of her. Haven't… met her. Heard something about her living in her suit too." He took a deep breatha nd gestured with a gloved hand, "I'm not… I'm not contageous ya know. It's not a proximety thing, I just get so mad at people sometimes when they think it's funny or do stupid shit like trying to dogpile near me. Someone's hand goes wide and they hit me in the head by accident? They lose an arm, Doug. It's not fun for me to do that to people and that's hard for me to recover from. Why they gotta make it harder than it already is?" When he gets going that southern twang really rang from the boy from Atlanta.
Doug says, "Because we're all just people, Kevin. We forget things." He reaches out to put his hand on Kevin's covered shoulder, and though he is careful not to touch the young man's skin, he gives a gentle squeeze with an ungloved hand. "We don't mean it, or to take you lightly. Sometimes we just get careless, and you have to remind us." He withdraws his hand. "But for what it's worth, I'm really sorry. The three of us—we hadn't seen one another in a really long time. It was like we were kids again. We got careless."
Wither relaxed a lot at the human gesture of commaraderie. "Thanks, I… THey seem cool ya know. THey're groovy guys and I… got scared for him> I don't think Sam remembers how to do that though. He's brave and we're… sensible." He offered Doug a bit of a smile and chuckled at his own assessment. "It's good though, that you got to see them again. Kinda sad my roommate left the school. I might be the only one who misses em really, but he was funny when he wasn't bein an ass to everyone."
That actually makes Doug laugh, aloud, as he returns to his food. "Sam is brave. But me. Sensible! Hahahahahahaha~" He chortles, his hand over his mouth, and then he exhales, slowly, and says, "Hey. You'll see him again, sometime." He shakes his head. "I'm far from sensible, Kevin. Smart? Maybe, the jury's still out. But hey. …Now you have a chance to make new friends."
Wither looked around and out to the lawn and back to Doug with a nod snickering, "Hey more sensible than the man that doesn't remember the ground is ground level. BUt… yeah. Some of the people seem alright. Miss Amara's pretty cool." He blushed a bit ut shrugged. "I mean a lot of them are trying to figure out how this city works. This time. This world? I guess we got that to offer them, huh?"
Doug raises an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth curves up. "She's really something, isn't she? The sort of girl that causes an outbreak of whiplash cases when she's back at the house." Then he says, "Amara is… special. She came from a place that… isn't really part of the outside world. So if you want to talk to her and estabish a point of connection, I suggest reading up on Roman society and customs. Just remember — she's a Patrician's daughter, and she expects to be treated like it."
Wither grinned a bit stupidly and nodded. Yes she was that. He paused though and boggled at Doug, "Like that church with the snakes and the writhin' around on the floor? Ain't met one of those before. Huh." Oh the peach was completely unclear the difference between Patrician's and Penecostals. Confused was a good word for it. "Well we know she likes coffee. We'll have to help her out. She's nice though. It's gotta suck bein a strange place."
"No." Doug says. "Patrician, as in togas and the senate." Doug says. "Amara's home city was… it's a very long story, but a group of ancient Romans made it to North America and built a city in the Amazon rainforest. Way, way in there. They still speak Latin, even. She doesn't let anything about the modern world stop her, but if you try to understand where she came from, she'll appreciate it." He smirks. "Anyway." He tucks back into his lunch.
Wither blinked and tilted his head, "Cogito ergo sum and all that? Woah… glad I took Latin then." He blinked and tried to wrap his brain around that, "Sooo oy'all are sayin she's like… Aimish with togas and them lil christmas wreath things on their head and all that? Way cool. How come no one found wm? Roberto know she was in his back yard?"
"That is a really long story. Suffice it to say Bobby's mom is an archaeologistreally nice ladyand she's the one who found them. It was…" He says, "A whole thing. A whole crazy, freaky thing." He looks up at Kevin and says "You like her, huh? Careful though… she's proud. Really proud. And she can have a temper."
Wither snerked, "No, I… she's pretty. Shes nice. I don't… know her. Besides how'd that work out?" He arched an eyebrow and bit his lip. "We should take her to see a movie. Explain theatre here. But like nothing scary, I mean that might be kinda neat." Okay Doug wasn't off base entirely. He squint and considered, "I wanna build us a projector system so we can broadcast on the back of the house like a drive in, but where we don't have to worry about people. What do you think?"
Doug grins, slowly. "I think that's an awesome idea, and it'd win you major points with most of the school. Actually, Wither, I have a different kind of project. I've been talking to Warlock… how much do you know about computers? I'd really like to construct one for the school. The tech is…" He shrugs, "Massive. But, you know. There's Cerebro…"
Wither was grinning ear to ear running though how he'd build it. Scaffolding, some sheets… projector wasn't too hard to get. "I'll put that together then and, ya know I learned a lil bit actually. My dad used one at work and I know about the little cards and things. In class we've been larning how to use the one in the med lab. I'm really good at soldering stuff. You thinking of building one?" He looked a bit proud sitting up a bit, "I can't use a pencil for a damn, but I like the computer. Anything I cna take the damn gloves off to use I endorse."
Cypher nods. "I'm thinking of building one for the school, as a project. I've been studying. They say that there might be personal computers in the home within ten years. Can you imagine? A world where everyone owns a computer." He shakes his head. "It's crazy. But I want in." He looks at Wither, and says, "You're a good egg, kid."
Wither turned red in teh ears but was proud of this. He took approval seriously, not like a brown nose, but as someone who knew the value of it. "Nod so bad yourself, Doug. So, where do we learn about building one? I mean something to recall data that's not a person would be pretty cool. Let guys like you sleep more that's for certain."
"I'm not a computer mind, I'm just good with languages. I'll get some stuff…" he says, "And talk to Warlock. He may be able to give us some guidance that'll put us ahead of the curve." Doug says. "Anyway," He sets to his meal, "I've got a class to teach in a little bit, so I need to finish lunch up. Butif you ever want to sit with someone and I'm in here, Kevingo ahead and sit with me."
Wither warmed a smile to the new 'friend' and offered a gloved hand out. Gloved, see? Safe. Perfectly save. "Hey, Doug? THanks. I'll work on brushing up on circuit building and… I guess ROman history." Wow he same in here thinking about welding spoons into a pinwheel and was leaving with a head full of ideas. Strange man. Well played Doug. "Have fun scarin the new kids."
Doug grips Kevin's hand, and squeezes. "That's not how I roll. Have a good day. …See you in class." He finishes up his lunch, and moves to discard his tray and get to it.