Summer 2011: Mayhem

Post by **Esynthia** » Tue Jun 09, 2009 4:32 am

Every Girl Needs a Hobby

Monet: Monet pulled the covers up tighter under her chin, trying not to give any attention to the warm presence at her back as she woke up. She ignored him when she could. She hated feeling more comfortable with someone around after everything that happened. But she did. However, she pretended like she was trying to be nice for him. It was the lesser evil for her reputation.

Mayhem: Mayhem woke slowly as he realized unconsciously that Monet was awake, an arm laid over her almost protectively and his tail flopped over one of her legs. He'd gotten more and more used to this as time went on, and her being beside him when he woke was more comforting then he thought it would be.

Mayhem: Of course, he didn't actually tell her this and was careful to keep it out of his thoughts, settling for just stretching and yawning, removing the arm as he blinked his eyes open. "Mornin'." He murmured sleepily.

Monet: "Mmm." She reached under the covers and pushed his tail from her leg. "Yes. It is morning." Monet pushed to sit, swinging her legs over the side before she let her arms go over her head to stretch.

Mayhem: Mayhem pushed himself up, scratching his bare chest, taking the greeting for what it was as he smiled at her back. "You alright?" He pushed the covers off his legs, revealing the slacks he wore for bed, before standing up and running both hands through his dreads.

Monet: "Fine. Why would I not be?" She pulled her hair over her shoulder and ran her fingers through the ends. "Are you not fine?"

Mayhem: Mayhem shrugged at that, throwing her a half-smile over his shoulder. "Not too bad, considering." He twitched the curtain aside and decided it was way too bright to pull them yet. "Want any breakfast? I'll cook it and bring it up if you do."

Monet: Monet arched an eyebrow and glanced over at him. "Are you offering me breakfast in bed? Before we have even had sex?"

Mayhem: Mayhem grinned. "Well, I'm kinda hungry too. But yes, if you want to put it that way." He caught his tail and started straightening his tuft. "Didn't know we needed to actually have sex before we could have breakfast." He blushed slightly and looked at her a little coyly. "Or is my tongue not good enough any more?"

Monet: Monet smirked, "Oh your tongue is fine. It's just rare that any man offers breakfast to a woman in bed unless they've already had sex or he's serious about her." She narrowed her eyes at him, "And it's not the latter. Is it," she phrased it as a statement more than a question.

Mayhem: "Of course not." Mayhem snorted. "I'm not sure what it is we are but I don' think serious has anything to do with it. So what do you want for breakfast?"

Monet: "Beignets and eggs. And bacon would be a nice addition. Do not forget the powdered sugar." She pushed to stand and stretched again, pulling her body into a long line.

Mayhem: Mayhem would have smirked if his face wasn't already set like that by the healing slashes, looking away. "Goddess forbid I forget tha'." He picked up a shirt and threw it on, not bothering to button it up. "Coffee as well?"

Monet: "Mmm, oui." Monet moved into the bathroom and picked up his hairbrush, watching herself in the mirror as she slowly brushed out the 'bed head' from her hair. "Hurry before I decide to go out and get something on my own."

Mayhem: "Oui oui, madame, je suis desolé, coming right up." Mayhem bowed low, wondering if she knew that that was probably one of the other boys' hairbrushes. With dreads, he didn't need one. He padded out of the room and headed down to the kitchen.

Mayhem: About twenty minutes later found him heading back up, expertly balancing two trays with no apparent effort. "Breakfast." He smiled a little as he came in.

Monet: Monet looked up from where she had settled back in his bed, flipping through a book she had found on one of the desks. "Merci."

Mayhem: "Bien." He'd gotten used to half-speaking in French around Monet. It was hard not to, really, and he'd had it so ingrained from school that when you were spoken to in french you replied back in kind that he found himself doing it automatically. "Beignets, eggs, bacon, coffee and sugar." Mayhem laid her tray on the bedside locker for her and opted for his chair, putting the tray on his lap.

Monet: "It smells delicious." She set the book aside and took the tray up, setting it on her lap. Monet immediately picked up the coffee and took a long whiff before taking a drink. "Mmm. My favorite blend."

Mayhem: Mayhem was careful to hide the smile as he picked apart his full english. Of course he knew her favourite blend. He could smell it on her. And the fact she liked it when he made it for her made him feel good. "Well, I may not be able to give you the sex but at least I can cook you breakfast."

Monet: "So I see." She took a bite of the eggs and gave a nod, "Not bad." She looked at the book she had set down, "Who's is that?"

Mayhem: "That? Oh." Mayhem barely glanced at it. "Mine." He shrugged. "I draw. Keeps me occupied." He rubbed the slices on his face, trying to resist the urge to scratch them. They itched while they healed.

Monet: "Those are also not bad. How long have you been drawing?" She took another bite and looked over at him, frowning. "Do not pick at those."

Mayhem: "Sorry." He said automatically, dropping his hand. "Um. Since I could hold a pencil." Mayhem tucked dreads behind an ear. "I've got a lot of room for improvement. I failed my art GCSE."

Monet: "Oh? Well I'm sure you've improved since then." She worked on finishing off the eggs then picked up a slice of her bacon.

Mayhem: "Not if you listen to my teachers I haven't." He muttered quietly, cutting up a sausage. He wasn't particularly hungry but needed to eat, damnit. "I sketch anything tha' comes to mind, I suppose. So I'm learning new things as I go. Kinda like most life." He glanced up at Monet for a moment. "Do you have any hobbies like that?"

Monet: "No." She took the coffee up again, drinking in the scent before taking an actual drink.

Mayhem: Mayhem blinked in surprise at her for a moment or two. "Nothing? You don't...play instruments or anythin'?"

Monet: "Of course I play instruments. I took lessons as a child." She looked over at him, "I do not have hobbies. I have not had any hobbies in a very long time."

Mayhem: "That must have meant you had hobbies once." Mayhem persisted. "And I consider instrument-playing a hobby." He pointed at the second violin case propped beside Cessily's - his parents had sent it over, together with his saxophone. "I play two. Frequently. And enjoy it. D' ya enjoy playing yours?"

Monet: "I learned because my father wanted me to. I continued playing because mother enjoyed it and it kept my sisters quiet." Monet glanced at his instruments then went back to her breakfast.

Mayhem: "You didn't answer." Mayhem half-smiled, going back to his breakfast. "Do you enjoy playing?"

Monet: "I enjoyed making my mother smile." She finished the bacon and picked up a beignet, taking a bite and relishing in the taste. "Mmm."

Mayhem: Mayhem hid another smile. "I'll assume you're good at what you play too." He chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "Monet..." He started. "...Is there...anything you enjoy? Anythin' that...makes you happy? Besides a well-cooked breakfast in bed."

Monet: "That is unimportant." She licked some powdered sugar from her finger.

Mayhem: "Not for some of us." Mayhem shrugged. "I don't care what y' try to show the others, Monet, you're not inhuman and you're not made of ice, eh? I've seen you smile a few times. And bein' happy? That's pretty important." He put the final mouthful of sausage in his mouth and then set his tray down, wrapping his long fingers around the cup of tea.

Monet: "I like sex." She finished off the beignet and set the tray aside, saving the second for later. Monet took the coffee from the tray and leaned back against the headboard.

Mayhem: "I got that." Another blush. Mayhem shifted a little. "But ye can't have sex all the time. What do you do when you're not studying? Stare at a wall?" He smiled a little, folding his legs under him, tail dangling down the back of his chair and curling slightly. "I mean...do you like drawing? Writing? TV?"

Monet: "I take walks. I read books." Monet gave a small shrug and took a drink. A lot of her hobbies died with her mother.

Mayhem: Mayhem sighed, looking down into his cup as if it held all the answers. Monet had been helping him through one of the toughest times of his life - probably without realizing it. Just by being there. He wanted to make her happy, or just do something to...say thank you without actually saying it. And damnit, he couldn't think of a way. "I got that one. You must have read all the good books here."

Monet: "As far as I know, I have." She frowned, "I enjoy culture. Americans seem to have none."

Mayhem: "Ain't that the truth. Have you ever been to England?" He sipped his tea, deciding to let the hobbies question go, green eyes fixed on her as he absently scratched at the wounds on his face.

Monet: Monet glanced over at him with an arched eyebrow. "Yes, I have been to England. Stop that."

Mayhem: "Stop wha- oh." He dropped his hand again. "They itch. A lot. Anyway. Which bits?"

Monet: "London, of course. Canterbury, York, Stratford-Upon-Avon, Cornwall, you know, places like that. I traveled with my family for holidays and with my father on business." She finished the coffee and set the mug down, "Do not scratch it. I do not care if they itch."

Mayhem: "At least I can have the stitches out soon." Mayhem ran a finger along the deep cuts. "All the best bits of England then." He smiled. "I grew up lookin' over the Tamar into Kernow. That's Cornwall. 'S why I can speak Cornish Gaelic - they taught it at my school because some kids spoke it there." He tugged on a dread. "Never been to London, or any of the big cities outside Plymouth."

Monet: "You should go some time. It is an interesting place with lots of history. I especially enjoyed the Tower of London. Very interesting."

Mayhem: Mayhem nodded. "You know, listening to you sounds like I'm readin' a brochure." He smiled slightly. "Why don't you tell me what you did? How it felt? What bits were shit and what bits you enjoyed?" In the small part of his head that he'd learnt to shield from Monet's probing mind, the thought give me something to work with went across.

Monet: Monet gave a shrug, "All of the 'touristy things' were interesting, but not my favorite. Like I said, I enjoy culture. You can't get too much of that on tours where people are just making things up for money."

Mayhem: "So you like just...say...walking around museums rather then being led?" He remembered her at the zoo. "Did you get to see the art galleries there? I wanted to go but Mum and Dad couldn't afford the trip..." He took a quick gulp of his tea.

Monet: "Yes. Exactly." She arched an eyebrow at him, "So why didn't you get a job and earn the money yourself?" Not that she'd ever had to do that, but it didn't make sense for someone not to if they really needed money.

Mayhem: Mayhem stayed staring at his cup. "Tried." He shrugged. "Managed to eventually. But then I wasn't allowed on the coach. No animals allowed." He took a sip, though his hand was clenched around the mug. "Guess it's not easy, having a tail."

Monet: "One, they're idiots and you're not an animal if you can talk. And two, why didn't you just take the train then?"

Mayhem: "Same reaction." Mayhem shrugged again, voice a little tight. "And I know that. But the truth is everywhere I go I always get that. I'm used to it. Not having 'nice things' because of being-" He shook his head, forcing himself to relax, pushing the bile-flavoured anger down again and smiling ruefully. "But that's the world. I haven't gone to see museums for years, or galleries, much as I've wanted t'."

Monet: Monet rolled her eyes, "You can't help your nature of being. You may look animalistic and have certain instincts but that doesn't make you the animal. It was their mistake for judging you as such. Their loss on the money you would have paid for your ticket." She shrugged. "Does Plymouth not have anything like that?"

Mayhem: "Plymouth's a Navy town. Armed Forces." Mayhem smiled. "It's got a couple of things dotted about, but mostly the emphasis is on bars and whores. In Keyham - the part I lived in - there were fifteen pubs in one square mile and five strip joints." He chuckled. "It's not so much a city as a set of docks with somewhere for the Forces to sleep."

Monet: "Mmm. Well that is unfortunate. You should travel to town here then. I'm sure they have something."

Mayhem: Mayhem chewed his lip, not looking up at Monet. "Would you...come with me if I did...?" He asked quietly. "I mean, I'll pay for both, I don't mind. It's just that...well..."

Monet: "I can afford to pay for myself." She arched an eyebrow, "But why would you want me to come with you?"

Mayhem: "I know you can. But if you come with me, I want to pay. It's only fair, I'm inconveniencing you." Mayhem shifted a little. "Well...I don't know much beyond what I learnt back in school. Plus I get nervous in crowds. And I like your company. And I'd like it if you did." His cup was empty, but he still stayed staring into it. She was going to say no. He shouldn't have told her he'd like it.

Monet: "It's only an inconvenience if you make me go or if I have things planned when you want to go. And as far as I know, you cannot make me do anything." She crossed her legs at the ankles and shifted against the pillow. "Are you asking me on a date, mon chat?"

Mayhem: His cheeks went slightly red. "Um. If that's how you want to look at it, oui. Well, as friends, obviously. And...you know. Whenever's good for you."

Monet: "If it's just as friends, then it is not a date." She tilted her head at him, "But if you are wanting a date, you need to ask me properly. I do not reside in the bottom of your cup of tea."

Mayhem: "Heh. If I ask you properly, though, will you say no?" Mayhem looked up at her from under his dreads, quirking a smile.

Monet: "That depends. Do you have the courage to even try?"

Mayhem: "Touché." He murmured with a smile. "Alright, Monet. Will you go on a date with me? To a museum or gallery of your choice?" Well, she was likely to turn him down anyway. Why the hell not try, at least.

Monet: Monet pushed her legs over the side of the bed and arched an eyebrow at him. "Push your hair back from your face so I can see you and you can see me properly and try again. Having your hair in your face is a form of hiding."

Mayhem: Mayhem muttered something and did as he was told, putting his empty cup down and looking her full in the face, feeling suddenly self-conscious about the stitched scars. "Will you? Go on a date with me, I mean." His tail ticked a little, her colours unreadable. "Any museum or gallery, or well...anywhere you want to go, really."

Monet: Monet sat there for a moment, pretending to think about it. "Possibly." He was going to have to work for this.

Mayhem: "...Possibly?" Okay, as far as answers went, that confused the hell out of him. "What do you mean by 'possibly'?" He frowned at her.

Monet: She gave a shrug. "It means what it means."

Mayhem: Mayhem shook her head. "Not a no, but not a yes. That's the best answer I've ever had." He smiled a little. "So how to I change that to a 'yes'?"

Monet: "Is it? How unfortunate for you." Monet arched an eyebrow, "How do you think you should change it?"

Mayhem: Mayhem chose to ignore the 'unfortunate' part, settling for giving Monet a smirk that bordered on dirty. "You'd like me to do something for you?"

Monet: "That would be a good start."

Mayhem: "Let me guess. This something would involve something you enjoy."

Monet: "Mmm. That sounds like an excellent idea."

Mayhem: Mayhem stood, pulling off his shirt. "And as you've told me you enjoy sex, well. I'd assume it'd be something along those lines?"

Monet: Monet smirked a bit at that, "Well, I wouldn't say no..."

Mayhem: Mayhem grinned, climbing onto the bed and gracefully straddling her, kissing her jaw gently. "Well, I guess every girl needs a hobby, mmm?"

Post by **steyn** » Tue Jun 09, 2009 10:27 am

Stopping thing just there? :o

Post by **Esynthia** » Thu Jun 18, 2009 4:33 am

Monet: Monet felt more relaxed than she had in a long while. The school was quiet, the sun was warm, and she had her sunglasses on, resting by the pool. She had her top hanging over the arm of the lounger and one leg up with the other stretched out. Napping was a good possibility.

Mayhem: Mayhem walked straight past Monet, sitting on a lounger, knees drawn up to his chin and staring out over the pool. He hadn't cried yet. Pretty much switched off when McCoy had gently broken the news and explained to him what the various colours and nasty brown smudges had meant.

Monet: Monet left her eyes closed as she heard Mayhem walking, frowning a bit when he sat on the lounger beside her, not even noticing her. Granted, in Europe, topless beaches weren't uncommon so he might just be letting her pretend she was at one still. She stayed quiet and rolled onto her back, arms under her head.

Mayhem: Mayhem stayed staring out over the pool, the chlorine making the other colours around it fade. Summer was in full swing, and he was topless, though he felt cold enough that he wished he'd bought out a jacket. He'd followed Monet's scent out here on pure instinct. He hoped he didn't have to talk. Maybe he could just pretend it wasn't real if he didn't have to say it himself.

Monet: Monet turned her head to face him, keeping her eyes closed still. "Are you going to lie down and tan or just sit there?"

Mayhem: Mayhem actually jumped a little, glancing down at her, his ears flat against his skull, before going back to staring. "Sitting's pretty good." He muttered.

Monet: "Alright then." She moved her hair over her shoulder so her neck and back could get more sun. "Don't mumble, though, mon chat. You're lucky I have enhanced hearing abilities. Most people would not have heard that."

Mayhem: Mayhem merely nodded, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead on his knees. "Sorry." He said into the cloth of his trousers, tail overhanging the seat and tuft brushing the ground.

Monet: She finally opened her eyes and pushed to prop up on her elbows, "Are you ill? Stop acting like a lifeless doll."

Mayhem: "I'm not a lifeless doll. And think about that question." Came the sharp reply before Mayhem's shoulders slumped and he hugged his legs harder. "Sorry..."

Monet: "Beyond your cancer. I mean ill as in an every day illness. Cold, influenza. You know, that sort of thing." She scowled at him and didn't accept or not accept his apology as she laid back down, turning her head away from him.

Mayhem: Mayhem took a while to answer that question. "Do you think I've lost much weight, Monet?" He said quietly, his tone saying he knew the answer but wanted to hear it anyway.

Monet: That drew one eyebrow up and she turned to look at him again, "You are remarkably more thin than the first time I saw you, oui. Pour quoi?"

Mayhem: "Shit." Mayhem ran his hand over his leg, not looking up. "McCoy said I'm underweight. Not badly, but..." He didn't want to say it. Maybe if he didn't say it, it wouldn't be real.

Monet: "But?" She finally sat up, "What did the good doctor have to say?"

Mayhem: "...It'll get worse. And it's bad enough to take note of. He got the results back." Hell no, he was not going to cry.

Monet: "Oh? And what did he find?" She arched an eyebrow at him again. "Mon chat, look at me. You have not truly looked at me once and we are having a conversation. That is beyond rude."

Mayhem: Mayhem managed to look at her for a couple of seconds before he buried his head again. "Stage two." He murmured. "Need to start treatment as soon as possible." He tried to keep his voice as flat as possible, tried to keep the white fear down.

Monet: Merde. "Well, now we know. What treatment is he looking into? Does he think we can get rid of it? Or just contain it?"

Mayhem: "More tests before we know for sure." Mayhem's voice shook. "He thinks he can at least contain it. He suggested I go to the healers but...Anna scares me. And I don't know Josh. Seen him around but y' know."

Mayhem: He drew in a shuddering breath.

Monet: "Anna is completely off her rocker, in my opinion. I have not gotten to know Joshua well, but he seems fairly competent... An imbecile, but competent." She pushed to stand and put her hands on her hips, looking down at him. "Move over and let a lady sit."

Mayhem: Mayhem did as he was told, arms tightening around his knees. "We'll see if...if...if they can't..." He bit his lip, not wanting to finish that sentance.

Monet: Monet sat beside him and stared out at the pool. "If they can't, they have to surgically remove it. Correct?"

Mayhem: "S-surgery's part of it...chemo and surgery..." Mayhem shook slightly, closing his eyes and trying to will the tears away.

Monet: "Then tell me what I am obviously missing, mon chat. If they can't get rid of it, what?"

Mayhem: "I-if they can't th-then..." Mayhem swallowed. "McCoy told me what would happen, worst case. If they can't stop it, or remove it or whatever then...eventually...I die."

Monet: "Well. Yes. Most people do eventually if they cannot rid themselves of their cancer." She looked at him, "You had thought about that, hadn't you?"

Mayhem: "Every damned day since I got diagnosed." Only now it's a real possibility...

Monet: "You shouldn't worry so about it. Several people live for years with cancer. Besides, I'm sure things will be fine. Doctor's are oath-bound to give their patients all of the information including the point ninety-nine percentile chance of things."

Mayhem: Mayhem just nodded at that, not trusting himself to answer, though his breathing hitched before he caught it, shivering slightly, his tail giving one thrash before lying still again.

Monet: Monet looked at him for a long moment before bringing her hand up to play in his dreads. "Take a deep breath and look at me."

Mayhem: Mayhem did as he was told, but it took a couple of goes before he was actually able to look up at her, eyes sliding away from hers.

Monet: "No. Look at me." She frowned, "Hold my eyes with yours."

Mayhem: Mayhem managed it, trying hard not to shake or acknowledge the tears running down his face.

Monet: "You will not die from this. I will make sure of that." She held his chin gently so he couldn't turn away from her. "Do not be afraid, mon chat. If you are afraid, you will live your life in fear instead of strength and joy. Fear is a weakness and you are not allowed to be weak if you want to share my bed." She kissed him gently, a lingering press of lips.

Mayhem: Mayhem closed his eyes at the surprisingly gentle kiss, returning it. His fear didn't get any less or miraculously vanish or anything that cliche, but Monet saying that, offering her support in her own unique way made him feel...stronger, almost. Better. He wasn't alone.

Monet: She pulled back to look at him after a moment. "Mon chat. Do not be afraid. Oui?"

Mayhem: "...Oui..." Mayhem swallowed. "I-I'm still afraid but I-I'll try..."

Monet: "There is nothing to be afraid of. Be confident that things will be fine and they will be."

Mayhem: In his mind, there was plenty to be afraid of - first and foremost being his parent's reactions - but he nodded anyway. Monet wouldn't lie, after all, and if she said he'd be okay? Well...he'd put faith in that. She wasn't the sort to give false hope.

Mayhem: He looked down, biting his lip. "Monet...I'm going t' have to go through chemo and...surgery for this...will you...will you stay with me for it? I-I don't think I can do this alone..."

Monet: "You're already sleeping in the same bed with me. Well, and on the floor. So I don't see why not." She gave a shrug, "It is natural to be afraid of the unknown, but you should not let it be a handicap."

Mayhem: Mayhem couldn't help the sardonic little smile at that - quite often in her bed, and in his too - and nodded, looking up. "Thank you."

Monet: "Pas d' problem, mon chat. It's not like I have anything better to do, oui?"

Mayhem: "Or anyone, right?" Mayhem swallowed, still feeling shaky, before wiping his eyes quickly.

Monet: Monet frowned at him, "I don't see what my sexual life has to do with any of this."

Mayhem: "It was a joke, Monet." Mayhem sighed. "Trying to lighten my mood. I'm not used to being depressed." Liar, a small voice in the private part of his mind muttered.

Monet: "Ahh. Well, if you want the truth, no one else seems interested at the moment. So no, I do not have anyone better to do either."

Mayhem: For some reason, knowing he was the only one actually doing anything - even if it was just literally sleeping - with Monet made Mayhem's mood brighten considerably. "Well...is that a bad thing?" He rubbed at a bare shoulder. How the hell was he going to tell his parents...?

Monet: "Well... Oui... And non. Because that means that no one else finds me attractive. It wears on a girl's self confidence after a while."

Mayhem: "Why? I think you're attractive as hell." Mayhem ran his hands through his dreads and looked out over the pool, wondering if Monet would mind him leaning on her. "Maybe everyone else can't handle your honesty?"

Monet: "Oh, they think I'm a right bitch. But that shouldn't change how attracted they are to me. At least for a quick lay. I mean, I am rather good in bed and I'm not fond of having strings attached anyway. Too messy."

Mayhem: Mayhem shrugged at that. "I wouldn't know about that. Well, you'd know abou' my....lack of experience when I came here. Wasn't expecting to ever have...y' know?" He stretched out a leg. "For what it's worth, I don't think you're a bitch and I think you're hot."

Monet: "Well, merci beaucoup, mon chat. At least that makes three."

Mayhem: "Bien." Mayhem sighed. "Monet...why're you topless?"

Monet: Monet laughed, amused that he just now noticed. "I was sunbathing."

Mayhem: Mayhem blinked at her laugh, then shook his head, smiling wryly as he pulled out his tin, quickly rolling himself a joint despite the shaking hands. "I-i'm sorry. Mind on other things when I came out..." He bit his lip before lighting it and taking a couple of drags. "I'm gonna need a whole lot more of this."

Monet: "Well, there is a supplier on campus, you know. You have to go off to get some though."

Mayhem: Mayhem nodded, taking a couple more drags and then offering it to Monet. "I thought as much." He sighed, relaxing back.

Monet: Monet took the offered joint and took a few drags from it before passing it back. She leaned back on her elbows to get more sun. "I could take you to him, although he and I do not get along. But if it was not you who left the bag under my pillow, it must have been him."

Mayhem: "Didn't have any, so it must have been. If you don't get on with him that much, though, just tell me who it is and I'll go myself, Monet." After taking a few more drags, Mayhem felt a lot more relaxed and leaned back with her, closing his eyes.

Monet: Monet looked over at him for a moment then leaned in and took his ear between her teeth. "Oh, I don't mind quarrelling."

Mayhem: That drew out a surprised hiss, Mayhem's eyes blinking open before he melted a little against her. "O-oh?"

Monet: "I find it quite amusing." She grinned at him and took the joint away while he was still looking at her, finishing it off.

Mayhem: "Sneaky." Mayhem grinned lopsidedly at her, going for his pipe and thumbing tobacco into it before lighting it. "And why's tha', moi lover?"

Monet: "It keeps me on my toes and helps keep my wits sharp for the insults."

Mayhem: "Ah, like my PK keeps me ready to move." Mayhem nodded, pipe in the corner of his mouth. He knew coming to find Monet was a good idea. She could take his mind off anything.

Monet: "Oui. Keeps you in practice." She laid down fully and closed her eyes again, soaking up the sun.

Scumfish · Post by **Scumfish** » Tue Jun 30, 2009 3:46 am

Mayhem sat on the roof of a building in Plymouth - he forgot which one - and wiped his eyes, feet dangling high over the edge as he let out a shuddering breath. He was in the Danger Room, the door locked, just needing some...some alone time, not that he got much else. He doubted Monet would worry too much about him.

A couple of tears hit the back of his hand and he wiped them away quickly, sniffling pathetically. Damnit, why was he crying? He'd known he'd have to do this eventually. It was either that or hope it went away, which...yeah, wouldn't be the smartest thing in the world.

But chemotherapy...it scared him. Hell, everything about this scared him. The fact he wasn't eating much scared him. The whole fatigue scared the hell out of him. He was an athlete! He didn't tire easily! He'd had to rest three times on the way to this spot.

Stage two penile cancer. That meant he had the full-blown thing, but it wasn't a killer. Not yet. There was time. If they acted fast.

Which was why he was up here, wibbling about the chemo, worrying about the possible string of ops. Typical of him that his first thought was When can I have sex again?. But out of the mess of emotions and thoughts, that one made the most sense.

Mayhem had actually locked his laptop away to stop himself searching on the internet and scaring himself. His mother seemed to be offended that he didn't want to talk about it, but his dad understood, Goddess bless him, both avoiding the subject beyond carefully-worded how-are-yous.

The boy stared out blankly over the false play of light, tuft in his hands, free hand trailing over his scars, fully healed to puckered white against his tanned Cornish skin, pulling the corner of his mouth up into a now-permenant slight smirk. He took a deep, shuddering breath, the tight bands of fear still around his chest. The school was too empty right now. He needed people, needed noise, distraction, insults and patronisation to take his mind off of this. Monet was good at keeping him strong, keeping him confident, but without her physically with him he felt stupid and the fear damn-near overwhelmed him. But she wouldn't stand for him clinging to her all the damned time.

Though...thinking of her did make Mayhem smile. She was cold alright, and a bitch, no point denying that. He'd been around bullies all his life and she was one of the best. But her scents...her colours told a different story. She fascinated him, the way she could take things that made him panic - like the cancer, for instance - and turn it into just...an ordinary thing, something he was strong enough to overcome.

And he liked her.

...Really, really liked her.

Mayhem groaned, unsure if thinking about the upcoming chemo or his relationship with Monet was worse. He'd learnt to keep part of himself shielded, and he kept that particular emotion tucked in that part of his mind. Goddess knew what she'd do if she found out...

He looked up, closing his eyes and sighing, fake wind brushing his dreadlocks out of his face. Maybe he should go back. He hadn't played his saxophone for a while, and all he was going to do was tie himself into a broody little knot if he stayed here.

"End program." He muttered in Cornish as he stood, stumbling a little as the surface he was on dissolved into floor. Funny how a blank room could contain so many different things, he thought, looking around it and shoving his hands in his pockets, wiping his eyes one last time as he did so. Sometimes he felt like the DR. Blank and open at first glance and revealing something with a trick of the light the next.

Mayhem snorted at his own thoughts as he went through the door. Yeah. Next I'll be dying my hair black, doing the side fringe and listening to Evanescence while moaning my woes on the internet. Cheer up, emo kid, everything'll be fine.

Somewhere deep inside, something almost laughed.

Post by **Esynthia** » Tue Jun 30, 2009 3:56 am

d'aww... does he have a teeny crush on monet?

that was really well written scummy.

I liked it a lot.

also... Evanescence is not emo. I resent that.

[Edited on 6/30/2009 by Esynthia]

Scumfish · Post by **Scumfish** » Tue Jun 30, 2009 3:57 am

Pffft. Say that to the millions of badfic set to their songs XD Naaawww, I know

Scumfish · Post by **Scumfish** » Mon Jul 20, 2009 7:08 pm

Mayhem: Mayhem was in the process of picking apart his bacon sandwich as he straddled a chair, chin morosely in a hand as he spread the bread over the plate. Like this, he could at least kid people he'd eaten more then a couple of mouthfuls. Pausing in his yeastiler destruction, he absently ran a finger over the place where the catheter sat in his chest. Only a couple of treatments and he was already sick of the thing.

Ronnie: Thus far, Ronnie had found the summer holiday to be quite, quite restful, she'd been able to skulk in her room resonably undisturbed by either roomies or other students, she hadn't even bumped into any of the summer camp brats either, bonus

Ronnie: Alas, there were some things you had to venture out for, and one of them was food so she was making her way to the kitchen while everyone else was otherwise occupied, well ... nearly everyone, there was a tell-tale figure sitting with thier back to the door, just her luck it was the bloody cat-man.

Mayhem: Mayhem turned his head slightly at the new scent and then flicked the crumbs off his claws. "Hey Ronnie." He murmured, pushing the plate away, his accent thicker with fatigue. "Was wonderin' if ye'd run away or somethin'."

Ronnie: Great, he was talking ... looked a little peaky too but that was neither here nor there, "I'm sure if I tried to you'd just drag me back to this law-suite in waiting like you did before, so it wouldn't really be a productive use of our time."

Mayhem: "Nah, ain't got the energy for a second time." Mayhem chuckled, but it sounded kinda flat. He pushed a piece of bacon around with a claw. "You got the best idea anyway. I have to face those kids. Can't stay in my room, good thing tha' Ah don' have to entertain 'em though. Should hear Monet bitch." He ended the sentance with a yawn.

Ronnie: "Monet's involved with this circus? Ah, of course, she probably feed upon the flesh of innocents," she sniffed, "then again, from what I've seen from the widows of my tower, they don't seem very innocent, perhaps she just bathes in thier blood to keep herself from her inevitable metamorphasis into a society crone."

Ronnie: *to try and stave off her inevitable

Mayhem: Mayhem snorted. "No, she's got my innocent flesh to feed on." He glanced up at Ronnie, noting that since she'd come back to the school, she'd started looking a lot smarter. "Eh, she'll stay young'n pretty for a while Ah think. Pers'nally I reckon she's fattening them up. Goddess knows she needs t' eat more."

Ronnie: "Oh? Would explain why you're so thin and pale looking, she consuming you from the inside like a canker, or perhaps some kind of intestinal parasite?" She hadn't missed the slight hint of affection in his voice and intended to use it to her advantage.

Ronnie: The moment of weakness in her illness had perhaps given him a false sense of comradeship with her, she intended to be done with that post haste, and there was no better way to get people's backs up then badmouthing thier friends.

Mayhem: At the mention of the word 'canker' - old speak for cancer - Mayhem's ears flattened. "No. She don' need to. My body's doing that fine on it's own." And she'd noticed how thin he'd got. Great. What was next, his hair falling out or something? He scowled, before forcing himself to smile. "But Monet ain' that bad. She's keeping me sane." He thought about it for a moment. "..Er. Sane-er."

Ronnie: "Touch of the flu or something? Maybe you caught the plague from the rats the faculty have let run around here lately?" Ronnie shrugged, going over to the cupboard and taking out a packet of doritos and opening them.

Mayhem: "I wish." Mayhem sighed, pushing the plate away as his stomach turned again. "No, just chemo." Well, not like he was going to be able to keep it secret forever. Especially when the side effects really came into play.

Ronnie: Ronnie's fingers tightened on the foil packet, crushing the crisps within to potatoe dust at the dreaded word, she coughed, looking him over ... the pallor, the weakness, the dullness of the eyes ... she knew it and she had no wish to know of it again, "What?" she asked, her voice sounding slightly strained.

Mayhem: Mayhem looked up quickly, frowning at the sudden and violent shift in the colours and scents, so violent that there weren't any traces of her previous mood. "I've got cancer. Chemo's part of the treatment." He self-consciously rubbed the area of the catheter again. "Are ye alright?"

Ronnie: "Cancer?" Ronnie's mask slipped, genuine pain showing through the carefully constructed impression of bored disinterest, just the idea of it brought back the smell of the hopital and the chemicals, the starched fabric and the soul-less clinical whiteness ...

Mayhem: Mayhem's frown became worried - surely she wasn't scared for him, he could be afraid enough all by himself after all - as she seemed to...smell genuinely pained. "Yeah...Ron, are you alrigh'? You want a drink or somethin'?" He scrubbed a hand through his dreads. "Ah mean, it's no big deal for me....Ah guess. Well..." He trailed off into uncomfortable silence.

Ronnie: "No!" It came out a little more forceful then she intended, "No, it's ... fine," she left the packet on the counter, "See you later Mayflower," she said quickly, making her way to the door out of the kitchen.

Mayhem: Mayhem turned and watched as Ronnie all but ran from the kitchen before turning back to his plate and staring at it, for some reason feeling intensely guilty and not quite understanding why. She'd been fine until he'd mentioned the cancer...

Post by **Esynthia** » Mon Jul 20, 2009 7:49 pm

aww... now whats up with Ronnie?

Scumfish · Post by **Scumfish** » Mon Jul 20, 2009 8:49 pm

Mayhem was tired.

Actually, he was beyond tired and running into exhausted. Probably not a far jump from it, anyway.

He gently pulled the loose shirt off, wincing as it caught the catheter in his chest. He’d had it in for about three weeks now, and had gotten a little more used to it being there – it certainly didn’t gross him out quite as badly as it had done, nor did it make him nearly break down when he saw it in the mirror any more.

All of a sudden, everything became a hell of a lot realer when he started his treatment.

Mayhem sighed, sitting on the bed – alone, for now. He’d go check on Monet, hopefully avoiding any of the owners of the new scents he had caught after he’d sorted his dreads. They were getting a little messy, having been neglected, what with one thing and another.

Maybe he should eat, too, though the nausea was trying to persuade him that was a bad idea.

Screw that.

Mayhem reached over to his bedside locker, picking up his crotchet needle and then running his fingers over the slashes on his face. That had become more of a habit then it should have, now that they were fully healed, but he hadn’t bothered to do anything about it.

What was a nervous habit when he had a bloody tube in his chest anyway?

His stomach gave another sick lurch that he tried to ignore as best he could as he started work, feeling for the loose hairs and working them back into his dreads, his mind wandering as his fingers worked. He’d picked up another sketchbook as he’d gone through yet another one. Maybe he could use it for the fantasy drawings he’d been playing with the idea of-

Mayhem realised something wasn’t right as he worked on his dreads. The hair was suddenly a lot looser, as if he couldn’t get a proper grip with the hooked needle. He pulled the needle away, blinking as hair came with it.

A sense of dread came over him as he reached up to check the roots. He tugged a little on the dreadlock he’d been working on and let out a dry sob as it came away in his hand.

They’d said it was a possibility, but he’d hoped…

Mayhem looked at the tawny-blond dread in his hand and then pulled out a plastic bag that had housed his boots at one point, carefully placing it in. No, he couldn’t let himself get upset. He was going to get better, damnit, what was hair compared to that? It’d grow back. And he could always get it dreaded again. Hell, he could do it himself.

No use getting upset.

Mayhem drew in a deep, shuddering breath and then went into his extensive art box, pulling out a pair of scissors before picking up a towel and heading for the bathroom.

He would be fucked if he was going to wait for them to drop out one by one.

-

Mayhem ran a hand over his now bald head. It had depressed him that he hadn’t had to use the scissors for most of the dreadlocks now lying in the sink – it must have been the dreads themselves which had held in the hair for so long.

…Gods, he looked weird bald. Weirder even then normal-looking humans. The feline face was more obvious, his jaw the wrong shape, his nose a little too flat, cheekbones a little too high. And as for the ears…

Mayhem let out a sigh and picked up the bundle of dreads, shoving them into the bag with the first before going back into his room. Muttering under his breath, he hunted through his drawers until he found his freerunning bandana and tied it, hiding the ears and the baldness and…not exactly making him look good, maybe, but certainly better.

He stared at himself in the mirror. I look like a pirate. He looked at his tail, watching it tick in time to his thoughts. And I feel like an idiot.

Cancer sucked.

Post by **Esynthia** » Mon Jul 20, 2009 8:59 pm

awwww

poor mayhem. wig shop ahoy!

Elfdame · Post by **Elfdame** » Mon Jul 20, 2009 10:53 pm

I don't think I can keep reading this one. It's GREAT, but too close to what's going on with several of my friends. But as usual your literary efforts are producing wonderful fruit. Keep it up ... even tho I'm not able to handle it at the mo.

Post by **Esynthia** » Wed Jul 22, 2009 9:59 pm

Mayhem: Mayhem was curled up under his duvet, hunched over his sketchpad and drawing furiously. He actually missed his dreadlocks getting in the way. Stupid, really. He adjusted his current bandana - red - and went back to sketching out a new tattoo design, an ear flicking irritably before he reached across and skipped a particularly depressing song. He wasn't going to get depressed.

Monet: Monet pushed the door open with her hip, martini glass in one hand, bowl of chocolates in the other. "Ugh. I hate those brats. They're so disgusting. And the lumpy bald pink one is rather awkward to be around." She perched on his desk as she took a chocolate from the bowl.

Mayhem: Mayhem looked up, smiling as Monet came in without so much as a knock before reaching over and turning his music down. "An' a good afternoon to ye too, Monet." Even his voice sounded tired. "Those kids still here then?" He adjusted the bandana, part of him hoping she didn't notice - especially with the 'bald' comment. He set aside his sketchbook with a sigh.

Monet: "Oh they'll be here for a while, I think. Ungrateful brats." She popped the chocolate into her mouth and took a sip from her glass. Monet finally glanced up at him and frowned at the bandana. "What is that?"

Mayhem: "Er. A bandana. Usually Ah wear 'em to keep..." He coughed. "I wear 'em when I do my freerunning..." Mayhem trailed off, looking down at his hands and feeling oddly exposed without the dreads swinging naturally in front of his face.

Monet: Monet finally saw past the bandana and nearly dropped her drink. "Mon Dieu."

Mayhem: Mayhem swallowed. "Yeah..." He fiddled with his claws, still unable to look up. "I-it's all comin' out." Not. Gonna. Cry. Stronger'n that. "Can' d-do anythin' to stop it either..."

Monet: For a long moment, she just stared, not sure what to say for once in her life. Then she regained her composure and took up another chocolate, popping it in her mouth before carrying the bowl to him on the bed. "Take the silly bandana off and let me see."

Mayhem: Mayhem hesitated, then did as he was told, twisting the cloth unconsciously in his hands and still not quite able to look at her. "Ah look s-stupid, don' I?" He tried a smile, but it twisted slightly, his country accent coming through stronger.

Monet: Monet tilted her head as she examined the baldness of his with her eyes. After a moment, she brought a chocolate up and pushed it into his mouth, "Hush." Her hand continued up to touch his scalp gently, feeling the tiny stubs of hair that were few and very far between. Those would likely fall out soon as well. "You need to tan a bit to make yourself have a more even skintone now. But you look fine."

Mayhem: Mayhem snorted a little when she shoved the chocolate into his mouth, eating it and swallowing. Her hand felt nice, but...it felt...weird... "Y-you think so?"

Monet: "Well... You were born without hair, oui? Or at least not as much as you had aquired over your years of becoming an adult. So it's simply a natural state of being for you. For anyone." She frowned, "But that does not mean I will shave my head."

Mayhem: "Wouldn't want you t'..." Mayhem reached up and touched a lock of her hair before dropping his hand hurridly. "I-I just...Ah've always had long hair. A-an' Ah don't like my face wi'out it." He looked back down at his hands, putting the bandana aside before he put holes in it.

Monet: "It's time for a new look, that's all." She grinned. "We could go shopping."

Mayhem: "Wait, what?" Mayhem looked up at her sharply, blinking at the sudden change in topic. "W-what for? An' Ah don't have any money..." He looked away. Damnit.

Monet: "Your new look!" She rolled her eyes and took a sip from her glass. "Mon chat. I have money." She took another chocolate, "We could get you some wigs, hats, new clothes. Whatever you want. It's been far too long since I've been able to spend a decent amount of money. And it's the perfect excuse to get away from the demons downstairs."

Monet: Just then she heard a rapid series of bangs a few doors down, then on the door next to that, narrowing her eyes as it got closer. "I hate children. Who is supposed to be watching them?!"

Mayhem: "Damned if I know." Mayhem shrugged, narrowing his eyes at the door. "Ah bain' be allowed near 'em. Though maybe havin' a bald cat yell at 'em might make them run, if they knock."

Monet: "Why not? You're not contagious." She waved her hand idly, dismissing that topic. "Shopping. Get up. We're going."

Mayhem: "Yes ma'am." Mayhem quirked a half-smile before unfolding himself from the bed, straightening out his jeans before padding to his drawers and rooting through for a shirt, tail ticking behind him.

Monet: Monet gave a smirk, "Much better." She winced as the pounded happened on his door and she went to the door, yanking it open and glaring at the kid who looked back at her with really wide, scared eyes. "Go back down. Now." The kid took off running and she closed the door as she turned back to Mayhem. "Much better."

Mayhem: Mayhem smiled at her as he was pulling on his boots carefully, doing them up. "So where're we goin'?"

Monet: "The city." She took her drink and finished it off, popping one more chocolate into her mouth. "I need to stop by my room and get my purse first."

Mayhem: "Alright." Mayhem stood, picking up his jacket. "Lead the way."

Monet: Monet grinned and exited, making sure to stop by her room on the way to the garage. "What are you in the mood for, amant?"

Mayhem: Mayhem trailed after her. "Um...I-I don't know." He shrugged. "I...don't get out int' the city much..."

Monet: She pushed open the garage's door and moved to her car, "Too bad." She slid into the driver's seat and leaned over to open the door for him. "I should take you out more."

Monet: -------vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrm goes the fast car---------

Mayhem: Mayhem fiddled with his tail awkwardly as they sat, unsure what to say. No use denying it - she'd spoilt him rotten. Anything that he'd vaguely indicated he liked the look of, she'd bought. The hell did you say to something like that? And why'd she done it? He wrapped a long-fingered hand around his cup of tea, looking at her over the rim.

Monet: Monet leaned back in her chair at the small table at the corner cafe, utterly content. She picked up her coffee mug and took a swallow as she looked out the window at the passersby. "This was a good trip. I needed that."

Mayhem: "Retail therapy?" Mayhem smiled a little, taking a sip of tea.

Monet: "Something like that. A good shopping trip relaxes me quite a bit." She looked back at him, "Does it not relax you?"

Mayhem: Mayhem looked at the bags around them. "I uh...don' usually have the money for a decent trip..." He looked back up at Monet, smiling a little shyly. "But yeah. I like buyin' things."

Monet: "Well, you didn't need money this time, did you?" She arched an eyebrow at him, "Was there anything we missed that you wanted to get while we were out?"

Mayhem: Mayhem looked down into his tea and shook his head. He didn't want to think how much she'd spent. Not that it seemed to matter to her, but it mattered to him.

Monet: "Alright. Well, if you think of anything, be sure to let me know. How are you feeling?"

Mayhem: "Tired." Mayhem shrugged. "But that's a side effect. Happier'n when they came out. Um..." He glanced at the bag that had expensive wigs in, running a hand over his bandana. It would be nice not to be stared at because people could see the harsh lines and the scars.

Monet: Monet arched an eyebrow at his cautious petting of the bandana. "Try one on."

Mayhem: Mayhem blushed a little at her suggestion, suddenly feeling a little self conscious. "Uuuh...what, here?"

Monet: "Why not?" She shrugged, "You could go to the rest rooms if you don't want to do it here. But you have to admit it would be fun to try them on and see people's reactions who weren't the owners of the shop, yes?"

Mayhem: Mayhem let out a nervous laugh and nodded, picking up the bag and fleeing into the toilets. As if they didn't stare enough at the tail and the fact his face was the wrong shape. He flicked an ear as he chose a packet at random, looking at it and sighing. He'd chosen mostly his natural hair colour but there were a couple of other colours in there. The one he was holding was a dead-straight blond haired wig.

Mayhem: Ah well...here goes nothing...

Monet: Monet sat and sipped her coffee as she waited, wondering which one he would choose. She arched an eyebrow as she watched him come out. That had been her favorite in the shop and looked like it still won. "I approve."

Mayhem: Mayhem ran a hand through it, smiling a little at how natural it felt already and tucking the bandana into a pocket. "You like? I uh...I won't be dreadlockin' any of them." He sat down again, putting the bag back with the rest. "I uh...I kinda like this one too..."

Monet: "Yes, I don't think you should dreadlock them. Human hair or not, it would ruin the look. At least in my opinion." She set her coffee down and reached into a bag to hand him one of the thick pairs of sunglasses they had picked up. "These with it, I think."

Mayhem: Mayhem raised an eyebrow as he took them off her, looking them over and carefully taking off the lable. "Um...sure." He slipped them on, pushing them up his nose. Slim-line without being too slim, comfortable and expensive. "What do ye think?"

Monet: Monet looked him over as she leaned back in her chair. A slow smile spread up her face. "I would not be ashamed to be out with you."

Mayhem: That caused him to blush deeply, looking down as he pulled off the sunglasses and smiled shyly. Coming from Monet, that was one hell of a compliment, and it almost banished the self-conscious fog that had settled on him when that first dreadlock had come out. "Um...thank you."

Monet: "You are welcome. Now finish your tea. I would like to go out to lunch after we go to a few more shops for things I would like to get for myself."

Mayhem: "Yes ma'am." Mayhem smiled, downing the tea quickly. Truth was, he felt really tired, but he wasn't going to give up now. He picked up the new sunglasses and slid them on. "Ready when you are, my lover."

Monet: "When are you not?" She smirked and picked up her purse and most of the bags, "We'll drop these at the car first. My errands shouldn't take long."

Mayhem: That caused another blush and a slightly dirty fanged grin. "Oui, alright." He slid out of his seat.

Monet: Monet looped an arm through his and made her way towards the door. "We should go shopping more often, mon chat. Perhaps we'll go again tomorrow." She scowled, "If we can escape the infestation of children."

Mayhem: Mayhem smiled down at Monet. "I think we're in perfect agreemen' there. Though if you said you were taking care of me, ye'd probably get out of it..." He smiled at her slyly.

Monet: "Darling, I take care of you anyway. You couldn't do it by yourself." She gave him a mental image and grinned.

Mayhem: Mayhem tightened his arm instinctively and grinned back. "Y're a bad influence on me, ma chére." He murmured as a child outright stared at his tail. "I meant for the cancer, but that'll work too."

Monet: "I know very well what you meant. But I meant something else." She glared at the child, "Your mother needs to teach you better manners you little brat." Monet reached down and grabbed Mayhem's tail, playing with the end as she pulled it up to be with their arms. "Let people stare. Stare right back. It's like someone here going to your home and saying you have an accent. When truly, they are the ones with the accent. In other words, they are the ones who look funny."

Mayhem: The kid ran crying to its mother and Mayhem carefully hid a smirk. "'Specially with so many of us around now. Still, makes think of that zoo we went to. Remember?"

Monet: "I do. Which is why they have no right to stare. We are not exhibits in a cage." She smirked, "Maybe you should tell people they need to pay to see the animals if they stare at you."

Mayhem: Mayhem grinned a little uneasily. "I don't think I'm quite up to performin', even for money." He ran his free hand through his wig again, marvelling at the fact it felt real.

Monet: "Not saying you should. But that would make them stop staring and hopefully run away a bit afraid."

Mayhem: "What, go all...grr on them or something?" Mayhem looked down at his claws. He had to admit, the idea of scaring people was funny. "Don't think I'm frightenin' enough for that." He absently ran a finger down the scars on his face.

Monet: "You could be if you wanted to. It's called acting, mon chat."

Mayhem: "Grrr." Mayhem beared his fangs at Monet, then grinned.

Monet: Monet feigned being scared then laughed, "You should try harder. All that does is turn me on."

Mayhem: "It does? Well, maybe I should do it more often. Grr." Mayhem smirked, then grinned good-naturedly. She looked good when she laughed. "Though...surely me being scary would do the same to you, ma chére?"

Monet: "True. It is very hard to actually scare me. No one has succeeded in quite a while." She grinned, "But you are welcome to try."

Mayhem: Mayhem smirked. "Maybe later, oui?" He fiddled with the ends of his false hair. "So...where to now, lover?"

Monet: Monet unlocked the car and put the things in the trunk, "I think maybe we should go back to the mansion and I can save my errands for later." She grinned and flashed an image through his brain quickly, "What do you think?"

Mayhem: Mayhem purred before he could stop himself. "...I think I can live with that." He murmured.

Post by **Starfish** » Fri Jul 24, 2009 8:31 pm

Mayhem: Mayhem had his eyes closed, leaning against the piano in the music room, the notes of the saxaphone rising around him as he played with his eyes closed. He was really, really rusty, but once he'd remembered where the fingers go it had been like he hadn't stopped. He just had a bandana on, the wig sticking out of his bag - it was too hot to wear at the moment.

Cessily: Cessily strolled down towards the music room, this time carrying her acoustic guitar. The poor instrument had been neglected way too long already. The summer months were perfectly suited to practice her musical skills. Besides, maybe she'd meet the new student down there again.

Cessily: As she approached the room, the sound of a saxophone greeted her. Probably someone else then, Cessily thought. At least she wouldn't be alone. Playing with someone else was always fun. She carefully peeked into the room. "Oh, hey," she called, smiling.

Mayhem: The sax cut off with a squeak as Mayhem jumped, nearly biting down on the reed before he looked up, strap around his neck taking the weight. "Ah...h-hi! Hi." He smiled a little worriedly. Shit, and he couldn't put the wig on without her noticing.

Cessily: "Oh my, I'm sorry," Cessily said, smiling awkwardly. "I didn't mean to startle you." She stepped into the room. Her gaze shifted up to the bandana. "Hey, you look different." She realized that the piece of cloth was wrapped a bit too tightly around his skull to contain his usual mass of a mane, and blinked a few times. "Did you get a haircut?"

Mayhem: "Um...no..." Mayhem ran over-long fingers over it, and then over the site of the catheter. "It er...it kinda...dropped out."

Cessily: "It did what?" Cessily stepped closer and put her guitar on a nearby table. The smile had faded from her face, replaced by a worried expression. "How... did that happen?" It wasn't that she couldn't think of the reason. She had seen it often enough on TV, after all. She simply hoped to be given a different reason than the one that jumped to the top of her mind right away.

Mayhem: "Ah...cancer." Mayhem looked down at his sax, fingers working over the keys, slightly spun out by the fact that Cessily didn't have any colour whatsover, being the only gap in it. "I'm undergoing chemo righ' now..." He didn't even want to show his nearly-bald tail.

Cessily: The seconds filled with uncomfortable silence stretched, while Cessily looked at May with a frozen expression. "I'm so sorry," she eventually managed to say, her voice slightly shaky. Although she felt like sitting down, she nevertheless stepped over to May and gently put her arms around his shoulders.

Mayhem: Mayhem juggled the saxaphone and wrapped an arm awkwardly around Cess, squeezing a little. "Thanks...but it's okay. Um. McCoy thinks he can contain it. We're seeing how the chemo takes and then looking at surgery..."

Cessily: Cessily sniffed, trying her best to not dissolve into s sobbing mess. She stepped back, brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and pulled over a chair to sit down. "That's... that's really good to hear," she said, then swallowed. "That McCoy thinks he can manage it, I mean. He really knows what he's doing. It's just... I really didn't expect such news, you know?"

Mayhem: Mayhem bit his lip. "Oh yeah, Ah know." Please don't let her cry, or I'm gonna bawl too... "Wasn't precisely expectin' it myself." He fiddled with the keys, not meeting her eyes. "I uh...I've had it for a while jus'...Ah didn't want to worry people." The keys made a light clacking noise. "So...um. Ah didn' know ye played guitar too..."

Cessily: Cessily bit down on her lower lip and gave a forced nod. She took a deep breath, trying to keep herself composed. "Yes, I do," she said, nodding again. "The guitar was a present from my grandpa. He gave it to me before I came to the school." She reached for the instrument. "So, I don't play it nearly as long as I play the violin."

Mayhem: Mayhem looked at Cess with a shy smile. "Hey, please don't me sad on my account. Ah'm sure I'll be fine." He ran a hand over the scars on his face before realising and dropping his hand. "Well...since we're both here...um. Mind if I listen in? This's makin' my back ache anyway." He tapped the sax.

Cessily: Cessily managed to bring a smile back to her face. "Uhm, sure; I don't mind." She nodded again, more enthusiastically this time. Mayhem seemed to welcome the change of topic, as well. "Don't expect any masterpieces, though," she added with a brief laugh. "I'm still practising." Cessily set the guitar on her lap and began playing a tune.

Mayhem: Mayhem pulled off the sax gratefully, setting it on the stand and boosting himself up to sit on top of the grand piano, listening. He didn't want to talk about the cancer - seemed every time he bought it up (like he could hide it now) it was all people talked about. "I dunno, Ah can't play guitar. Bain' no judge mesel'."

Cessily: Cessily couldn't think of a song to play, so she simply played what came into her mind. She tried to make the tune not sound too depressing. "I actually don't find it that hard," she said, glancing up at Mayhem. "I suspect that this might have to do with my mutation, though. I guess it helps when you don't need muscles and sinews and stuff to move your fingers."

Mayhem: Mayhem remembered her showing her mutation. "Yeah, ye're metal, right?" He smiled. "Well, you sound good. Does that mean you're super-flexible then?"

Cessily: Cessily looked up from her guitar and flashed Mayhem a grin. "Why yes, I've been told that I'm very flexible very often," she said, laughing briefly. "And that's right. Basically, I'm girl-shaped batch of stainless metal. Do you remember the evil guy from the second Terminator film? I'm pretty much like him. Just... less evil, you know?"

Mayhem: "Yeah, I remember you showin' me." Mayhem grinned back, glad she was laughing as he swung his legs. "Still, one stringed instrument's pretty much the same as another, righ'?"

Cessily: "They more or less are, in a way," Cessily agreed. "The violin's bow sets it apart from the others, though." She changed the tune she was playing to something sounding a bit more cheerful. "So, how about you? Playing any other brass instruments?"

Mayhem: "No, just sax and violin. Parents needed somethin' to keep me quiet. Well." Mayhem smiled a little, tail tapping against the piano. "'Course, I picked the two loudest and worst-soundin' intruments."

Cessily: Cessily chuckled. "Sounds like an excellent plan to exact your revenge. Of course, you could have also picked the drums." Looking up, she smiled at Mayhem. "I'm still happy they made you play. I like to listen to you. You know, we should play together more often. Definitely way better than being bored during the break here."

Mayhem: "Mmm. We should. It's just...well...after th' treatments and all..." Mayhem looked down at his feet. "...I get tired. Really easily. 'S why I'm playin' the sax and not my violin. Can't hold it for long..." He shrugged. "But when I'm doin' good, I'd love to." He offered a cautious smile to the silver girl.

Cessily: Cessily returned the smile and nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, right, I didn't think of that," she said, glancing down at the instrument in her lap as she played another mellow tune. "We could also try and teach you to play the harmonica," Cessily suggested, looking up with a small grin on her face. "That one shouldn't take nearly as much effort, don't you think?"

Mayhem: Mayhem pulled a face. "Bain' that th' one that sounds like a cat screaming though?" He leant down and picked up the saxaphone in one hand, looping the strap around his neck again. "I like mellow instruments." He listened to Cessily's tune for a couple of moments, fingers clacking over a few keys before setting the reed to his lips and playing a harmony to it.

Cessily: Cessily wore a small smile on her lips while they played together. She made sure to play a slower piece, not wanting to risk exhausting Mayhem. "Hey, that sounds actually good," she commented their little duet. "I really like it. So, I guess you'll just have to see to get better soon, because I'd love to play more with you."

Mayhem: Mayhem blushed at the compliment, playing for a couple more minutes before stopping, running his hands over the sax. "Oh, no worries there, my lover." He murmured quietly. "Ah'm plannin' t' get well, y' know? Bain' gonna be put under by this."

Cessily: Cessily rested her hands on the guitar. "Are you talking with the sax or with me," she asked with a smirk on her lips. "Though, seriously, if you need anything... I don't know... just someone to talk to or go out with, you tell me, okay?"

Mayhem: "Well, you know what they say 'bout men an' their sax..." Mayhem blushed a little but smirked back. "Thanks, Cess. Migh' take you up on that. Ah'm pretty okay f' now, though. Monet took me ou' and bought me half of N' York. And a coffee."

Cessily: "Well, that's nice to hear," Cessily said and chuckled. "I'm just trying to think of a way to be of help, you know? That doesn't mean you're not in good hands with Dr. McCoy." She ran a hand through her hair and grimaced. "Ugh, look at me; I'm already talking about it again. I better should get your mind on something else."

Mayhem: Mayhem gave her a half-smile. "It ain' that bad." He clacked the keys again. "Just don' ask me what it's like t' have the catheter in." He shuddered slightly. "So...wanna play anythin' now?"

Cessily: "No worries about that," Cessily quickly agreed. "I'll content myself with being grateful for my inorganic body." She returned the half-smile and raised the guitar once more. "Sure. I had hoped you'd be in the mood to play a little more. Any favourites or preferences?"

Mayhem: Mayhem looked quickly at his saxaphone at the mention of an inorganic body. Would make his life so much easier. "Uh. Nothin' depressing. You pick something."

Cessily: "Uhm, alright." Cessily showed Mayhem a kind smile, then thought for a moment. "Hm, how about some Cash?" She stuck a few chords to get a feeling for it, then began to play the notes of "I walk the Line".

Mayhem: "Love that song." Mayhem nodded, listening for a moment before once more bringing up the sax again and joining in, closing his eyes. Yeah...this was good.

Svartfreja · Post by **Svartfreja** » Mon Aug 03, 2009 2:51 pm

Mayhem: Mayhem edged outside, his pipe already stuffed with tobacco and in his mouth as he hunted for his matches. His current favourite wig, dead-straight blond and down to his hips, was decorated with goggles and he had really made an effort to look steampunky despite feeling like hell in a fridge.

Monet: Monet made her way up the path from the small lake, towel drying her hair as she went. A smirk slid up her face as she felt a familiar presence on the porch. <Bonjour, mon chat.>

Mayhem: <Aaah, bonjour, ma chere. Enjoy your swim?> Mayhem finally located his matches and lit the pipe, breathing in with a sigh of relief as he sat on the wall, bald tail held in his lap.

Monet: <Oui.> She finished with her hair and wrapped the towel around her waist, hiding her scars since she was coming up to the mansion. "How are you feeling today?"

Pietro: Pietro looked up and sniffed. Tobacco? He tilted his head back and saw the shape of someone on the wall behind him. When did that happen? He put down his paintbrush and looked at the water. probably needed a refill anyway. He got up.

Mayhem: Mayhem shrugged. "A little more awake t'day. Hurts, though." He ran a gloved hand through his hair and sniffed, coughing. "My tail's finally copped it though. Las' fuzz came out. An' I feel like I've got a cold. 'Sides that, I'm alright. You?"

Pietro: Oooh voices now? More than one person then.... or one crazy person. He rounded the end of the wall and paused to look at the two stood there. Hadn't seen them before.

Monet: "I'm fine. When am I not?" She smirked and finally made it to him, picking up his tail and examining the end. "We'll just have to figure out a wig for this thing as well. But it looks alright." She twitched at the new mind and glanced in the direction. "Hello."

Mayhem: Mayhem turned slightly, sniffing again - ah, there was the scent. Gods-damned chemo. "Oh, hey. Sorry, I ain't with it." He stuck the pipe in the corner of his mouth and held out his hand. "Mayhem. Don' think we've met."

Pietro: "Hi..." Pietro waved with his free hand, "I'm Pietro, I'm new." He smiled and shook the offered hand.

Monet: Monet arched an eyebrow. "No kidding? I couldn't tell," she deadpanned. "Monet." She didn't offer a hand, instead, using both to stroke idly at Mayhem's tail.

Pietro: Pietro's eyebrows rose a little, he looked down at his glass of green water, "Er... I was just painting..." He held up the glass as proof. "Nice scenary here."

Mayhem: Mayhem shook his hand, giving him a half-grin and unable to hide the purr as he took the pipe out of his mouth. "Painting? I draw, but...not scenery."

Monet: "I was hoping you weren't planning on drinking that. Unless of course you decided to end the mundane life I'm sure you lived until you came here."

Mayhem: Mayhem snorted at that, coughing out smoke. "True that. I was normal before I ended up here."

Pietro: "It's non-toxic paint..." Pietro told Monet, with a grin, "I, er... 'borrowed' it from the small people running around the place." He put the glass down on the table, "Didn't have the right shade of green in my own set."

Monet: Monet scowled, "The hideous creatures."

Mayhem: "Bain' come across 'em." Mayhem breathed out a stream of smoke, sticking the pipe back in his mouth. "Guess that's one thing I can be grateful for in this mess."

Pietro: "Probably should be grateful you didn't find them today - they have paint... though less than they started with." he peered over the wall to check on his painting. Still there. All was well. "And they're not that bad really... suppose it can helps that I can give them a good run around."

Mayhem: "I'd be more interested in them pullin' out my catheter." Mayhem shrugged, looking down at where Monet was playing with his furless tail, his ears back against his head. "That would...kinda suck."

Pietro: Pietro blinked at Mayhem for a moment, "Hmm yes... that would be a bit of a problem." He finally agreed. Glancing at the glass of green water again, the paint in it was starting to settle. Looked nice.

Monet: "Not that bad? They're wretched. Maybe you haven't met the fat one with the candy yet." She snarled. "Disgusting."

Pietro: Pietro nodded, "Oh yeah I met him. He needs some excercise... should have plenty of energy with all that sugar." He prodded the glass with a finger to watch the paint mix a little again.

Monet: "Actually, sugar provides you with only a small burst of energy. And with the amount he inhales per day, it's a wonder he's able to get off his fat ass and do anything productive, since too much can make you very lethargic."

Pietro: "Well then maybe we can use sugar like a carrot and make him work for it? It'd be like fat camp for mutant kids." Pietro replied with a nod, as though that solved everything. He picked up the glass again, "Probably should change this too..." he peered into it.

Monet: "Yes," she agreed with a carefully arched eyebrow on both counts.

Hector: Hec stepped out onto the patio. "Hola..." more people out than usual... He grabbed a seat around the patio table. "Cómo está usted?"

Monet: "Y usted cuida, por qué?"

Monet: ((translations: Hector: How are you? Monet: And you care, why?))

Mayhem: Mayhem shook his head, realising he was starting to zone out again. He needed to sleep more. "Eh? I don' speak Spanish." He relit his pipe, before rolling his shoulder automatically, releasing an interesting string of Cornish curses as he pressed his hand over his chest.

Monet: "He asked how we were," she said calmly as she reached up to run her fingers through the ends of Mayhem's wig. "And I asked him why he cared."

Hector: "être juste poli." He smiled and pulled out a cigarette. Hec put his feet up on the table and leaned back.

Hector: ((Translation, french: Just being polite.))

Pietro: Pietro looked at the other new person and shuffled sneakily towards the kitchen door. More water. Introductions after. Unless he got caught...

Monet: Monet shot a glance at the new boy as he made for the door then went back to Mayhem's wig. "Being polite does not become you."

Hector: "So I've been told. Do we know when the midgets are leaving? Xavier's schedule is a bit vague." He lit up and took a drag.

Pietro: Pietro made a dash for the kitchen and got there a lot faster than he'd expected and slightly damp since the water also hadn't expected to get there that fast.

Mayhem: Mayhem whimpered, fingers on the site of the catheter. "Always forget." He murmured. "Even after all this. Fuckin' ow."

Monet: Monet quietly shushed Mayhem and ran a hand over his shoulder. "Mon chat. Do you need to rest?"

Pietro: Petro returned to the patio, sleeve slightly green and carrying a fresh glass of water and a glass of orange juice.

Mayhem: "Non...I'm alright." Mayhem sighed. "It's nice t' get out for once."

Hepzibah: Hepzibah was sure she saw a flash of white in the kitchen. Only one other person at the school had hair as white as hers. Grinning, she stuck her head out the patio door. "Hey there fellow whi-" She paused, seeing not just Pietro, but also Mayhem, Monet and Hector. "Oh, hey guys..." Well, ain't this just damned comfy.

Monet: "Alright." She went back to his tail and turned to arch an eyebrow at Pietro. "My, my. Aren't you quite the mess. You're as bad as the children."

Pietro: Pietro grinned at Monet, then turned to see who'd spoken behind him which only made his grin bigger, "Hepzibah! Where you been hiding?" He put the glass of water down and sipped his orange.

Hector: He recognized the voice without turning. Nice. Just what I need. He didnt turn around to look at her, and ashed off to the side.

Mayhem: Mayhem looked up at the familiar scent, and his face lit up. "Hepzi? Hepzibah? Where've ye been?!" He grinned, taking the pipe out, pain forgotten. "How're you? What've ye bin doin'? I'd hug you but...Ah'm...y' know."

Hepzibah: It was too late to turn back now. She smiled at Pietro. "Oh, I've been here and there." She shuffled onto the patio, staring at the back to Hector's head for a moment, "How are you feeling May??" She looked at the fellow feral concerned.

Mayhem: Mayhem shrugged. "Lost all my hair, got a tube in my chest and I feel kinda whacked out."

Hepzibah: She winced, sorry she'd asked. The scars on his face had healed nicely, but they made her wince a second time. "But, your prognosis is good, right?" she asked hopefully.

Hector: Better than yours... He thought sinisterisly quietly to himself, grinning.

Pietro: Pietro continued to drink his orange juice, trying not to listen to something that wasn't any of his business.

Mayhem: "Mmm." Mayhem looked down, tapping his pipe out. "Operation's scheduled soon so...waitin' on tests an' all." He started refilling the bowl, trying to ignore the currents of tension. "Chemo's done now, so..."

Monet: Monet scowled at the reaction seeing the other feral had brought out in her cat. She had to smirk when she caught Hector's thought. <You really should learn how to shield. However, I agree.>

Hector: His grin faltered for a moment and then returned quickly. <Only telepath I'm not invisible around is you, and the professor.> He blew smoke rings into the sky.

Hepzibah: "Chemo's done? - well, thank God for that!" She grinned a little more easily, leaning against the wall. "You're tough, you'll do fine." She gave him a nudge and turned to Pietro, "And, how's Wanda adjusting?"

Mayhem: Mayhem just hummed and nodded, not wanting to bring anyone down with saying that it was too early to tell and the prognosis was still fairly low. He put the pipe in his mouth and ran his fingers over Monet's hand before lighting it again.

Monet: <So then you should work on it. You project your thoughts far too much for me to not catch them, you know.> She grinned over at Hector and moved away from Mayhem to sit in the patio chair nearest the mexican. "Do you have anything I would be able to sample for you today, mon ami?"

Pietro: "Wanda's great," Pietro smiled at Hepz, "I don't think she cares where she is as long as she gets food and isn't on the menu. Neither of which are a problem here it seems." She paused and lowered his voice, "Who's that guy?"

Hector: "Actually, yeah, got some flavored black dot." He reached his free hand into an invisible bag at his side. "Let me know what ya think." He pulled out a small joint with a black dot and a green dot, and handed it to her with a lighter.

Hepzibah: "Hector Rendoza." She answered back in the same low voice. My ex...something She wasn't even sure what to call him. "He's a student here, too."

Mayhem: Mayhem sniffed and pushed himself off the wall, pulling a face at the wave of fatigue. "So Hepzi..." He smiled. "Where'd you go? Missed seein' you around, y' know."

Hepzibah: "I...um, I went to see a friend of mine." She smiled up at the tall mutant. "And then, took a little trip to Vegas. Wild times." She winked, her smile turning into grin. "Glad to be home though." For the most part. It hadn't escaped her that Hector hadn't looked or spoken to her since she'd come outside.

Mayhem: Mayhem wrapped an arm around Hepzibah's shoulders. "Good to have ye back." He grinned. "You...feelin' any better?" He remembered how she was feeling the last time he'd seen her, just after she'd slashed his face.

Pietro: Pietro nodded, "Ah right..." he wondered what the history was there. Seemed complicated anyway. "What does he do then?" He figured he should start asking that more.

Hepzibah: She gave May a friendly hug around the waist, which came up to her chest. "Much better, thanks." Then she looked over at Pietro. "Maybe you should ask him." she bit her lip a bit.

Pietro: "Hmm... not sure that's appropriate since we haven't been introduced yet..." He scratched his head, "Maybe I'll leave it a day or two."

Hepzibah: She fidgeted with the green cat's eye at her neck then cleared her throat and motioned between them. "...Hector, Pietro Maximoff. Pietro, Hector Rendoza."

Pietro: Pietro smiled at Hepz, "See, wasn't so hard now, was it?" He gave her a nudge and a small wink, "Hi," he gave Hector a wave.

Hector: Hec turned for a moment, "Hola. I'm sure the pleasures all mine." He grinned at Hepz's pained introduction, and turned back to Monet.

Monet: Monet took the proffered lighter and joint with a soft 'merci' before lighting the end and passing the lighter back. She glared up at Mayehm's arm around Hepzibah's shoulders and took a long drag, blowing it in their direction. "Everything's difficult for her."

Mayhem: Mayhem hugged tighter, leaning down. "Things not good between you'n Hec, hun?" He whispered in her ear.

Hepzibah: Well, that's two for and two against. At least I got fair odds. "How very nice of you to notice. What? Is there something a matter Mo?" She smiled sweetly and gave Mayhem another little platonic hug.

Pietro: Pietro blinked at Hector then wrinkled his nose as the smoke came his way. Ew. He waved a hand in the air to disperse it. "I was just asking Hepz what it was you did... powers wise I mean." He said to Hector.

Monet: Monet turned more into Hector and offered him a drag from her joint, even going so far as to hold it up to his lips. "This is wonderful."

Hepzibah: "Yeah, you could say that Mayhem," she whispered back a little uneasily.

Hector: Hec took a short drag, "Ah... Yes, good mix." He agreed before turning back to Pietro, "I can go invisible." He demonstrated by covering his arm in his field, it vanishing instantly.

Mayhem: "Mmm." Mayhem squeezed her shoulder and hissed sharply when he brushed his catheter. "Well, if ye need me, aye?" He smiled slightly.

Monet: Monet smirked and took another drag, holding her hand out for Hector. "Show him what else you can do."

Pietro: "Wow... cool." Pietro made a mental note to always lock his door.

Hector: Hec took her hand, "I can also use it on others." He shifted his field onto her, and she disappeared as well.

Hepzibah: "Thanks, May." She watched Hec turn Monet invisible. "I appreciate it." She feverently hoped Hector was just willing to live and let live.

Monet: Monet grinned and scooted her chair closer to Hector. "It's quite the experience."

Mayhem: "Well, us cats gotta stick together." He purred. "You're gonna stick with me through all the cancer, my lover, I'll stick with you for this."

Pietro: "Wow." Pietro said again, "Almost as cool as being able to stop a truck by thinking about it."

Monet: "Oh, I can do that. Just make the truck driver your brain bitch." She grinned. "Easy as pie." Monet arched an eyebrow at Pietro and nodded at the seat next to her, "Come sit, cher."

Hector: Almost nothing. Hec turned back to the table. "You smoke?" He offered a cigarette.

Hepzibah: "You got yourself a deal, Simba." She smiled up at him watching Hector and Monet. "Not without his permission Monet." she warned the other girl incase she was trying her mind trick on him.

Monet: "Not without who's permission, you vile creature?"

Mayhem: "Hey! Monet, Hepzi ain't vile." Mayhem frowned up at her.

Pietro: Pietro shook his head slowly, a little confused, "No I don't smoke. Trying to look after myself." He lifted the glass of orange juice to show her.

Monet: "Of course she is." She turned back to Pietro, "I'm not suggesting you smoke, amant. Just sit."

Mayhem: "Ech. Whatever." Something switched in him and he sneered a little. "You're not vile. You're my best friend, y' know?" Eh. So much for his good mood.

Hector: "No prob." Hec grinned as they all exchanged barbs. <Lover?>

Monet: <He's cute enough. Why not?> She projected that part enough for Mayhem to 'overhear' if he was paying attention.

Pietro: Pietro frowned but, not wanting to make any enemies in his first week, sat down anyway.

Hepzibah: "Really?" She stared up at him, surprised. "I'm honored Mayhem," she answered, all pretense and barbs among the group set aside for a moment.

Monet: Monet smiled at Pietro and looked him over. "How long have you been here, darling?"

Hector: "Ha. K" He took another drag from his cig, and blew the smoke out as the high from the super weed hit him. "Oh man..." He leaned back and staired at the sky for a bit.

Mayhem: Mayhem's eyes flicked up to Monet before he squeezed Hepzibah's shoulder. "Not much'f an honour, trust me. I don't make friends easy, apparently." He said the last quietly, re-tamping his pipe and keeping his eyes on it.

Pietro: "About a week." Pietro replied, it was hard to tell for sure, all the days had started to merge into one without work to distract him.

Hepzibah: Hepzibah laughed, "I find that hard to believe, but I'm honored just the same, my friend." She grinned. "A week already? You all settled in yet Pietro?"

Monet: "And how have I missed finding you, mon cher?" She reached over and played with the ends of his hair a bit.

Pietro: Pietro looked over to Hepz, "Define settled," he requested with a grin and a subtle movement of his head to hint that he wasn't comfortable with the personal space invasion. "Apparently I'm good at hiding."

Hector: "Ha, Yeah. So'm I." He grinned picking back up on the convo.

Mayhem: Mayhem looked up, eyes catching on Monet's hands. They froze there for a moment, his hands shaky from fatigue and something else...red slid in over his sight. "I uh...listen, I'm...I'm tired...I need...I need to g-go..." He shut off his mind, making sure Monet couldn't get in and see. "I-I need..." He dropped his pipe.

Hepzibah: "May??" Hepz voice was alarmed as his pipe fell. "Come on, hun, come sit down." She tried to lead him to a chair.

Monet: Monet frowned as Pietro moved his head enough where she couldn't reach his hair anymore and took her hand back, using it to take a drag from the joint. She glanced over at Mayhem and didn't let any emotion show on her face as he shut off from her completely. Something he almost never did. Good, so she got to him.

Mayhem: "No...I need..." He pulled out of the other cat's hands and stumbled a little. "I need...I just..." He turned away and started walking, not even noticing that it was towards the woods, folding his arms against the cold and lowering his head. The red was starting to tint everything.

Pietro: Pietro frowned at the situation, What just happened....? I should finish that painting. He shuffled in his seat.

Hepzibah: Hepzibah turned to Monet to see if she planned to do anything other than sit there and look superior. Growling, she picked up May's pipe. "Oh, no princess, don't bother getting up! I'll follow him." She spat, launching after the other feral and he seemed to be blindly making his way to the tree line.

Hector: "Aww... Lookit. Wonder if they are in heat." He grinned as they started to disappear into the trees.

Pietro: Pietro felt more than a little bit abandoned. He watched Hepz go, a bemused expression on his face. "Did I miss something?"

Monet: "He wants to be alone, rat. Leave him be." She turned to Pietro. "Yes. Are you really that dense?"

Pietro: "I've been here a week, how in the hell am I supposed to know what crazy shit has gone on before I was here?" He knew there was some sort of weird and probably fucked up relationship stuff going on in the background there. Though he'd be damned if he was going to ask what.

Monet: "You're dense enough to ask if you've missed something. I never said you had to understand what that something was."

Hector: "We don't." He grinned and sucked the last of his cig, and flicked it out into the grass.

Pietro: Pietro didn't know what to say to that so he just shrugged and sipped his juice again. For some reason he was getting the feeling that he'd been left to the lions. Figuratively speaking of course, considering the two most cat like people he'd ever seen had just left.

Hector: <He doesn't seem very bright.> Hec pulled out a water bottle and took a sip.

Monet: <Non.> She finished the joint and dropped it to the ground, putting out the last bit with her toe.

Hector: "Wanna go grab some lunch?" Hec asked Monet after a bit of day dreaming.

Monet: "Non, merci." She watched the woods for a moment. "I think I need to go fetch your cat and drag it home before it decides to try and make kittens with mine."

Pietro: "I'm not sure they'd appreciate you talking about them like that." Pietro put in and got to his feet.

Hector: "She's not my cat anymore. Feel free to drag it whereever ya want." He waved off all thoughts of them.

Monet: "Oh good. So you won't mind me taking it to the pound." She glanced over at Pietro, "Do you really think I care? Mayhem is mon chat and he knows as much."

Pietro: "It's not very nice though, is it?" He picked up his glass of water, "Not the way to make friends at all." Or a good impression.

Hector: "Go for it." He slipped his bottle back in his pack. "Well, if you're off to them, I'll take my leave as well, got a few errands that need to be taken care of."

Monet: "Here's a tip: I'm not nice. I don't like friends. And I don't like you."

Hector: Hec grinned at the barrage as he stood up to go. "If you need another for the night, you know where to find me." He said motioning to the discarded joint.

Pietro: "Charming." Pietro finished his juice, "Can't say I much like you at the moment either, so no big loss I suppose." He set the empty glass down and headed for the gap in the wall so he could get back to his painting.

Monet: "Merci," she said over her shoulder to Hector, barely acknowledging him as she stood. "Oh good, so we're in agreement then. How wonderful." She rolled her eyes and made her way to the woods.

Pietro: Pietro rolled his eyes, shaking his head. One to avoid, that one. Mental.

Hector: "Later." Hec shifted his field onto himself and disappeared.

Elfdame · Post by **Elfdame** » Mon Aug 03, 2009 6:39 pm

Meee-yow all the way around. Mlle Mo is cattier than Mayhem and Hepzibah combined!

Scumfish · Post by **Scumfish** » Mon Aug 03, 2009 9:53 pm

Mayhem: Mayhem didn't realise where he was until he stumbled over a tree root. He sniffed and leant against the tree, sliding down it. I'm over-reactin'. He sniffed again and tried to hold back a sob. 'S just her.

Hepzibah: Thanks to all the evening runs Hepz had under her belt, she was able to keep up Mayhem as he blindly crashed through the underbrush. When he finally stopped, curled up next to a tree, she approached him slowly. "May? May, sweetie, what is it? You hurting?? You need Scott or Dr. McCoy??"

Mayhem: His head snapped round at the intrusion, fangs bared as he growled, but it wasn't a particularly convincing one. "No..." It was Hepzibah. That was alright, so long as it wasn't Monet.

Hepzibah: She wasn't sure what to do. It was a sure bet he was stronger than her, even when she had her abilities, which she didn't. "Come on, May. Why don't we go back school?" She edged a little closer. "I think you need to rest for a bit."

Mayhem: Mayhem shook his head. "No...no...'m okay...sorry for worryin' you...Ah jus'..." His breath hitched. "Don' want to go back yet..."

Hepzibah: "Why not?" She crouched down and cocked her head to the side. "May, what's wrong? You can tell me..." she offered. At least he was as grumpy as her Papa Doc had been when the cancer meds had him strung out.

Mayhem: "I-it's s-stupid." The red tint was still there but it was more depressive then agressive this time. "I sh-should have expected...bu-but she did it at the wrong time..." His accent get thicker as he spoke, the Cornish coming through stronger then usual.

Hepzibah: It was hard to understand Mayhem through his accent. "Expected?...sh - oh! Monet? She did what?" She tried to be as comforting as possible without actually touching him. She knew a feral's instinct to strike when hurt was a strong one.

Mayhem: "That whole...thing...with that guy..." Mayhem sniffed again. "I-I can't take it any more, can' take wha' she's doing..." He hiccuped. Gods he sounded pathetic. "I don' even know wh-what I'm doin' wrong..."

Hepzibah: "Oh May..." She frowned, reaching out to his hand a squeeze. "You're not doing a thing wrong! You got that?!" She shook her head. "I'm not sure why Mo acts the way she does. But she was that way long before you got here."

Mayhem: Mayhem's hand twitched at the squeeze before he squeezed back. "Ah was just tryna be her friend...why me?" He bit his lip and scrubbed his face. "I-I'm sorry...jus' ignore me. Ah'm being selfish."

Hepzibah: "Selfish??" She sat back. "Mayhem! You are the least selfish person I have ever met. You could have gotten me kicked out of school, but you didn't." She ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated. "Look, I don't really think Mo has got much use for friends." Sometimes, Hepz wondered what her story was. No one was that angry and bitter without a reason.

Mayhem: "I-I'm tryin' ta help her...trying to show her that people ain' bad..." Mayhem sniffled. "I-it's jus'...a lot of people do this...Ah'm jus'..." He shivered a little. "I think bad things happened a-an' I wanna help. Really do. But she won' let me a-an' I bain' got long left..." He clamped his mouth shut at that.

Hepzibah: "'bain' got..." She translated that in her head. "I'm sorry..." Suddenly, Monet was the furthest thing from her mind. "Mayhem, are you saying what I thing you're saying?"

Mayhem: Mayhem wouldn't look up at Hepz. "Figured Ah could...y' know...help her...or somethin'..."

Hepzibah: "Ok, Mayhem..." She took his hand in hers. "Whatever is screwy in Monet's head - you can't fix it, ok?" Good God! Just like papa! "You got to worry about you, ok? You promised me that is I stuck around so would you, remember??"

Mayhem: "I-I just wanna make her better. 'S all." Mayhem still didn't look up. "She's honest an' helped me through th' first stages an' I jus'...Ah wanna give somethin' back. Don' need to worry 'bout me. I already know what's gonna happen and I'm scared enough." He swallowed. "O' course...bain' definite...nothin' is. I jus'...every 'friend' kinda does this..."

Hepzibah: Oh, honey...you have no idea how bad it could get. Flashes of her papa laying in a deathward bed flashed through her mind and she tried not to cry too. "It's great that you want to help her. Hell, I wish someone could help her. But..." she stopped. "What do you mean 'every friend kinda does this'?"

Mayhem: Mayhem shrugged. "I got bullied." He said heavily. "Guess it's jus' one of those things."

Hepzibah: Hepz nodded, understanding. "Oh..." She moved over and sat down next to him and slid out her claws. They were untouched by the patch. "So did I until I learned what an effective deterent these were." Not that they had done her any good when they had come for her. "I guess it comes with being so different from them."

Mayhem: "The humans? Yeah." Mayhem sat up a little straighter, looking at her claws before sliding out his own. "Had my tail broken once." He picked at the ends of his wig before pulling it off. "Even here...th-the normal ones don' understand, do they?"

Hepzibah: "They try, Mayhem. I think most of them really do try...but no." She compared claws with him. "We're the same, you and me. I remember Rogue once said she absorbed another feral mutant and she thought she understood me because of that-" Hepz laughed. "But, when you spend you're entire life this way - from your very first breath to your very last...THEN you'll understand."

Mayhem: "Yeah...I ain't never met someone like you. Y' know what it's like, don' ya? Monet...she don'...she doesn't know and doesn't get it an'...I just...I'm tired of it." A growl curled out with that statement. "Ah'm not some...pet. Not some toy for 'em to play with."

Hepzibah: Hepz winced at that. She'd been no more that a plaything, a lab rat to those who'd taken her. "I know, Mayhem. I don't think they always mean it that way, but - " She bit her lip. "You know, Hector never made a crack about me looking like I do...at least not until - " she dropped it, that was water under the bridge. "Monet treats everyone like they are playthings, May. If trying to help that one - you've got your work cut out for you."

Mayhem: Mayhem didn't need to have his sense of smell to know Hepz wasn't happy. He wrapped an arm around her tightly and hugged her. "See, everyone does with me. Guess my height's a major issue there though." An ear flicked as he tried to smile. "I'm sorry, Hepzi, I didn' wanna bring you down." He sniffed. " 'Specially with my sob stories. Monet's just...insecure I guess."

Hepzibah: "Monet is a lot of thing, Mayhem. Insecure wasn't the first thing that came to mind though." She joked, ribbing him. She wrapped her arms around his waist for a moment. "Don't worry, you didn't bring me down. It's just realy awkward between us right now." Her tone made it clear she really didn't want to get into that. "You ready to go back now?"

Mayhem: "Awkward? Between you and me?" Mayhem looked at her strangely before smiling. "N-no. I think she is. Guess even the norms have their issues." He shivered again. "Ah'm tired. Prob'ly should. McCoy'll kill me..."

Hepzibah: Hepz laughed despite herself. "No, between me and Hec...you and me - we're cool." She stood up and leant him her hand. "Us tailed types got to stick together, right?" she smiled.

Mayhem: Mayhem hesitated, then took the hand. "Yeah...yeah we do." He let her pull him up, staggering a little, wig in hand, fingers going over the smoothness of his bald head. "Even if my tail's more like a rat's then a lion's..." He pulled it round and showed her the bald tip. "I want my tuft back."

Hepzibah: "And, you'll get it back, May. Somehow, McCoy and Scott...somehow they'll help you beat this thing." She nodded determinedly. "And you're tail doesn't look any worse than mine when mine is wet." She laughed. "And, yeah, McCoy would kill ya, so we just wont' tell him."

Mayhem: Mayhem nodded. "Well...can always stick felt on it if Ah miss it, I guess." He shook out the wig. "Or cut up one o' these...Monet bought me a load. Um. Y' fancy coffee or somethin'?"

Hepzibah: In truth, the idea of eating or drinking anything was less than appealing to her. So instead she smiled. "What I would love is some good company May." She walked a bit to the side and let him catch up.

Mayhem: Mayhem scooted to walk beside her, fitting on the wig and goggles again. "Well, I can give tha'. So long as we sit down, right?" He offered a smile. "And...thanks, Hepz." Although he didn't think he was up to facing Monet again yet, not until he got over his hissy fit. And not until he sorted out his own head. Too much happening, right now.

Hepzibah: She wrapped an arm around his tall waist, good naturedly and grinned back. "Anytime May."

Post by **Esynthia** » Mon Aug 03, 2009 10:41 pm

awwwww

poor Mayhem.

Hepzibah: "They try, Mayhem. I think most of them really do try...but no." She compared claws with him. "We're the same, you and me. I remember Rogue once said she absorbed another feral mutant and she thought she understood me because of that-" Hepz laughed. "But, when you spend you're entire life this way - from your very first breath to your very last...THEN you'll understand."

I think Rogue needs to explain her powers a bit better to Hepzibah... lol

[Edited on 8/3/2009 by Esynthia]

Post by **Esynthia** » Mon Aug 10, 2009 1:50 am

Mayhem: Mayhem smiled a little, putting a hand up and checking his wig carefully. "Thanks for that, Hepzi. Ah needed it." He squeezed slightly.

Hepzibah: Hepz smiled and gave him one more friendly hug. "It's no problem May, you got a lot on you. You got my shoulder any time you need it." Then she looked up and saw Monet approaching. "Well, speak of the devil." She grimaced.

Monet: Monet's eyes narrowed as she saw their arms around each other. "Oh, darling, I'm not near the devil I can be," she mumbled under her breath as she kept walking, her face going back to it's indifferent mask before they could see her features clearly.

Mayhem: Mayhem had already caught her particular scent, his face going expressionless as he shut his mind off. "Well...that's somethin', mmm?" He sighed. He didn't want to deal with this, but there was no way right now he could run. He felt shaky enough as it was.

Hepzibah: "Ain't it though..." Her sigh matched his. "Hello Monet. Walk and talk." She offered the other girl and they approached her, her arm still around Mayhem. "May needs to rest for a bit."

Monet: "He can keep going. I have business with you." She didn't even spare Mayhem a glance, her eyes were all for Hepzibah.

Mayhem: Something flared at being so dismissed. "Not without support Ah can't." He bit out. "And Hepzi's my friend. Anything you wanna say to her you can in front of me."

Hepzibah: Oh thank God. Hepz doubted Monet would actually do anything to harm her. It would mean expulsion. But, without her abilities, she was feeling more than a little vunerable these days. "That's true Mo, whatever you want to tell me, you've got my permission to say in front of Mayhem." she smiled sweetly.

Monet: Monet ignored Hepzibah completely and looked over at Mayhem, "Now, mon chat. I'm sure you wouldn't want to be caught in the crossfire." She looked back at Hepzibah, "Because I have nothing to say to her. So it would be better if you weren't being held onto by this prostituée."

Mayhem: Mayhem stared, his tail whipping. "Non." He growled. "Hepzibah is helping me through this. She is my friend. Best friend. But you wouldn't know about that, would you?" He hissed out. "So whatever you want to say, you say in front of me." Really shaky.

Monet: Monet turned a glare to Mayhem, "Do you really want to make this between us then, mon chat? Because I have no problem letting this involve you as well. I had planned on speaking to you later, but I can do it now if you would prefer." She turned back to Hepzibah, "Let go of him. If he cannot stand, he can sit or hold on to me."

Hepzibah: She looked Monet up and down. "Mayhem can do as he pleases, but I have not, nor will I ever take orders from the likes of you." She shifted and helped Mayhem side step around Monet and kept kept heading for the house. "Like I said, Mo - walk and talk."

Monet: "My name is Monet. If you continue to get it wrong on purpose, I will make it so you cannot say anything again." She stepped in front of them again. "And I will not take orders from you. You are beneath me, therefore, you cannot tell me what to do."

Mayhem: Mayhem pinched the bridge of his nose. "Monet, I need to rest. Do not talk about my friends like that. The hell d'ya think I am?" His tail curled as something told him he was being a bastard but for the life of him he couldn't see it. He was tired, he was upset and damnit, he felt like a bone. "What's wrong with just doing somethin' that might actually help someone f' once. Is that so fucking hard?"

Monet: "I do not want to help her. I want her to stop touching you. The only thing that is stopping me from ripping her away from you is the fact that you might fall over from it." She narrowed her eyes, "But the fact that you think I have not helped anyone ever speaks volumes of what you think of what has gone on between us." She reached up and took the wig from his head, "Au revior."

Mayhem: Mayhem stood, frozen for a moment, claws sliding out. "God. All the same. All the fucking same. All of you." His voice was snarling. "Oh you helped. Ah ain' saying that. Helped a fuckin' lot. Don't get me wrong." He reached out and snagged his goggles back, clamping his mouth shut before saying anything more. "Au revior indeed." He let go of Hepzibah and turned away from them both, fingers rubbing over his bald head.

Monet: Monet watched him walk off and glared at Hepzibah, "Go after him. Coddle him. Comfort him. Take my place by his side. I dare you."

Hepzibah: Hepzibah looked pointed at the wig in Monet's hand that she'd ripped off Mayhem's head in her childish retaliation. "You don't deserve a place by his side. He's far too good for you." She put a hand on Mayhem's tall shoulder. "Come on May. It's not good for you to get all worked up. Let's go get some coffee brewing."

Monet: Monet arched an eyebrow, "You think you're better than me, chat de gouttière? Do you think you could give him even a slight amount of what I could? Fine. I wish you two all of the miserable time you can capture together." After all, she didn't come here for friends or relationships. Good riddance. But she made a silent promise that if that damned cat hurt Mayhem, she would not know what hit her.

Monet: ((translation: alley cat))

Mayhem: Mayhem shook Hepzibah's hand off. "No. No. You misunderstand me." His voice was slurry. "All of you are the same. All my life. Every frien'. Always do this. Treat me like a...like a pet, a plaything, 'nd I-I'll show some kinda mind a-and-" He shook his head, trying to clear it, ears flat against his back. "-And Ah h-haven't e-eaten yet and..." He raised a shaking hand to his head. "Helpin's a waste of time..."

Monet: Monet looked at Mayhem for a moment and made an executive decision. She scooped him up carefully and walked to the kitchen. Monet pushed open the door and set him down in a chair at the table and reached into the fridge, pulling out some left over roast from the night before. She set the dish in front of him and poured him a glass of milk before getting eating utensils and giving him those as well. "Now you can eat."

Monet: She walked over and tossed his wig in the trash bin and pushed out the door, moving into the rec room.

Hepzibah: For a moment she stood where she was, her tail swishing from side to side trying to decide what to do. Her own ears were back as well. After another moment, Hepzibah came into the kitchen.

Hepzibah: "You all right, May?" She started to climb up on a stool, then thought better of it. She's was ungodly clumsy these days. Instead, she crossed her arms and willed her ears to come forward.

Mayhem: Mayhem just stared at the food, hands flat on the table, his ears still flat. "I can't eat this." He muttered, though he knew it was stupid. His vision was swimming. "She-" Red was staining his vision. Something was laughing, and he had a horrible feeling it was him, somewhere deep inside. "I-I can't...Hepzi...I-I need to go-" He pushed his chair back and stood up, tail flicking sluggishly.

Hepzibah: "Yeah, I don't think I could eat it either." Not that she could eat much of anything these days. She watched him stand, her own tail flicking in time with his. "Where? Where do you need to go?" Her eyes narrowed in concern as she came a tiny bit closer.

Mayhem: "Away." He pushed away. "I-I need-" The smells were all running together, like the time with Monet, turning red and that was not a good sign. "I-I don't feel good."

Hepzibah: "I-I'll go get a doctor!" She back away, and spun around to go find find Scott, or McCoy, even Xavier - anybody.

Mayhem: "N-no...no doc..." Mayhem swayed. "I just...need...out..." Dizziness washed over him and he caught hold of a wall. No, not gonna collapse. Not here. Not in front of Hepz. "Just...too much..." Ugh, and he felt sick too...

Hepzibah: Without thinking, Hepzibah rushed back to him. "Then just tell me what you need!" Just like papa!! She was caught in the panic of her memories. She offered him her shoulder to lean against. "You need some air??"

Mayhem: "Yeah...air...air good." Mayhem took a step back towards the door, before his vision wheeled and he stumbled, catching himself on the table, tail limp between his legs. He was shaking badly, panting, feeling like he couldn't breathe. Panic started overriding the red rawness of the anger. What was happening?!

Monet: Monet frowned at the strongly projected panic coming from Hepzibah and sighed as she pushed to her feet, switching off the television and tossing the remote to the couch. "What in the world is the matter with you, Hepzibah," she pushed the kitchen door open, "You really need to learn how to shield better. You're giving me a headache."

Monet: She paused at the sight of Mayhem and went to him immediately, putting an arm around him and leaning into him gently, letting him know she was there without saying anything. She was angry at him, but she wouldn't not help him.

Hepzibah: "Then I'm just returning the favor, Mo." Her tail ticked, irritated as Mo stepped. "Mayhem hasn't asked for your help Monet," she reminded the dark haired girl. "Men don't like to treated like children - or pets." She remembered how many times her Papa Doc had pushed her away.

Mayhem: Mayhem had stiffened the moment she'd touched him, moving to step away from her and nearly tipping over in the process. She'd hurt him too much to just...forgive like that. Another flare of anger rose up before he pushed it solidly down. "I'm...goin' to my room. Alone. Ah need t' lie down." He growled out, pulling himself away from the pair of them and leaning against a wall.

Monet: "How are you going to get there, mon chat? You can barely stand."

Mayhem: "Not your cat. And I'll fuckin' manage." Mayhem snarled out, glaring at both the girls. "Still crawl, can't I?" He swayed as another wave of dizziness swept over him, ears flat back against his bald skull.

Hepzibah: Hepzibah stood stiffly and shook her head as Mayhem turned away. "He'll manage Monet." She whispered softly. "They always do." She stopped for a moment then turned to her. <A man's got his pride.> How many times had she heard that herself??

Monet: "No. I guess you're not. You're hers now." She turned to Hepzibah, "Do not talk to me, you harlot."

Hepzibah: "I never do." She sighed. "He doesn't belong to anyone, Mo. I think that's the point he'd like you to understand a bit better."

Mayhem: There was a dangerous snarl that it took Mayhem a few seconds to recognise as his own. "Stop. Fuckin'. Callin' her that." He swallowed down the sudden need to bury his claws in something, stamping back on the anger with years of practice. "An' Hep's right. Ah ain't anyone's. Not a pet, not a fuckin' kid. Don't need anyone." He narrowed his almost-black eyes at Monet. "How many times you said tha' to me, eh?"

Mayhem: With that he pushed himself off the wall. "Well, guess you really don' need me. You've got Hector. An' anyone else. Besides, who cares abou' a doormat?" He started heading slowly for the door. "Later."

Monet: "Ha. Hector? What does he have to do with any of this? I used him to make you get angry because of the way you looked at her," she jerked her thumb at Hepzibah. "But none of that matters, does it? Because you're not mon chat anymore so you should have no problem who I use or don't use. Correct?"

Monet: She crossed her arms, "You are not completely healthy. You need help with your ailment. But fine, see how far you get before you need someone to help you finish getting to your room."

Mayhem: Mayhem stopped at that, the hand not propping him against the wall clenching into a tight, shaking fist. "Hepzibah is my friend. Who I ain' seen for a while. Of course I was happy to see her." He said deceptively calmly. "She's also helpin' me. Do you know how scary it is, Monet? Knowin' that in maybe a year, Ah could be dead?" The hand shook as he took a deep breath. And another. It didn't help him calm down.

Mayhem: "I don' want your version of pity any more. I don't want your help. I don't want t' be made to sleep on my own floor, I don't want to be your godsdamned doormat. And stay out of my mind." He snarled. "I don't want anyone, you hear me? No one. You're all the fuckin' same."

Hepzibah: Hepz gave Mayhem a smile at his acknowledgement that she was his friend. Then put her head down and busied herself putting away the dishes and uneaten food. This wasn't her fight and she didn't really know how to help either of them. Hell, she didn't even know how to help herself.

Monet: "Could be, Mayhem. Not will be. You're stronger than the fichu cancer and you know that. But if you want to pity yourself, have a fun time." She glared at him, "I have never forced my way into your mind when you didn't want me there. I know when to stay out. I am not a careless telepath no matter what you think. And if you hate us all so very badly, at least you can leave. I'm stuck in this God forsaken hell hole! So go ahead! Leave, damn you!"

Monet: ((French translation: Fichu = damned))

Mayhem: Mayhem lowered his head at that, claws buried in the wall leaving four neat, deep scrapes down it. "Not as stuck as I am." He said quietly before taking a shaky, slow step away from the pair in the kitchen. He could get to his room on his own, if he took it slowly. But he had to get away. He didn't have the energy to be this angry. His vision was swimming bad enough as it was.

Monet: Monet turned her back as Mayhem walked out of the room, refusing to watch him. He had no idea how stuck she was. No one did, thankfully. "Connard," she muttered darkly under her breath. She didn't even glance at Hepzibah as Monet pushed out the back door and back outside, shooting into the sky and flying towards the lake.

Monet: ((Translation: Connard = asshole.))

Hepzibah: Hepz finished washing the plate and glass, then put them away. Then she turned her head between the door and the staircase. "Yep... That went well..." she sighed sarcastically to herself and went to find a quiet place to take a nap. She had a headache.

Scumfish · Post by **Scumfish** » Mon Aug 10, 2009 1:57 am

Mayhem rubbed his face before running his hands over his bald skull, already missing the feel of hair running through them. After he’d woken from a heavy nap, he’d packed up every wig, all the clothes, everything that Monet had bought him and placed them outside his door before locking it.

He wasn’t a fucking charity case. Or a pet that could be pampered.

His fingers went to explore the area where the catheter had been – taken out for now, his chemotherapy session was done and now they were waiting on results to see if it had any affect.

Knowing his luck, it had probably only added a couple of months on or something.

The fear made him stand up and start pacing again, so he went over to his chest of drawers and pulled out a bandana, quickly tying it around his head to hide the baldness.

This sucked. This fucking sucked. The hell did he bother for. Mayhem paced, rubbing his shoulder agitatedly. Back in England, he’d had no friends. No sob-story, no emoing, it was just a fact that he’d got used to. Freaks didn’t have friends, they just had fear. People were afraid of him.

And why not?

Any ‘friends’, and he used the term loosely, he did make were either after something or wanted to fuck him over. What better way to make the weird kid with the stupid name cry then to stab him in the back, make him do shit for you in an effort to please you only to have people laughing behind his back?

Oh, Mayhem wasn’t stupid. He knew, he knew somewhere deep inside that he was always taken for a ride. He knew instinctively when people were going to fuck him over – as if the smell didn’t give them away, the colours that washed over them certainly did. He just ignored those instincts, desperate for some form of acceptance, anything that would mean actual affection. Even if it made him the complete omega of any group.

God, he made himself sick sometimes.

Mayhem rubbed his face, still pacing. No, that wasn’t right. He wasn’t thinking clearly. He was just upset – people didn’t fuck him over, he just…screwed up. That was all. It was always his fault.

Except…he couldn’t see how, this time.

He tried. He wanted to help – wanted to help everyone. Monet had no friends, and something had happened to make her like that and he wanted to make it better for her, maybe actually gain himself at least a real, genuine friend in the process. But she’d flipped it on him, totally gone off on one – because he’d talked to Hepzibah. Ripped the wig from his head, carried him like some – some – toy, called what he cautiously called a friend a prostitute – just for offering him some comfort.

Did she really, truly not care? Did she really not want friends that badly?

Mayhem stopped, realising his teeth were clenched and his hands fisted, claws pressing against his palms, and his world was ringed with red. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to relax.

It wasn’t his fault.

And Hepzibah…she was helping him, for whatever reason, looking after him when she could. He knew her issues, it had been a big deal to tell him. And she was just like him! Another cat, someone who knew what it was like, who he could compare notes with!

…But she was probably going to do exactly the same to him, wasn’t she.

Immediately Mayhem felt guilty for thinking it, but the thought was there. Everyone he helped or tried to get on with did it. So hell, why not Hepzibah too?

Abruptly he went and sat on the bed, pushing himself against the wall. He wished he’d never come here. Everything went wrong the moment he stepped through those doors. In the one place he thought he could find people he could finally get on with and relate to, it turned out they were just as much a bunch of tossers as the rest of the world.

Well, fuck ‘em.

Fuck ‘em all.

And somewhere in the back of his mind, laughter echoed again.

Post by **Esynthia** » Mon Aug 10, 2009 2:09 am

>< Dang. poor mayhem.

stjohn · Post by **stjohn** » Mon Aug 10, 2009 8:47 am

oh man.... poor guy... He cant even buy a break....

Raven Hare · Post by **Raven Hare** » Wed Aug 12, 2009 2:39 am

Aw, don't worry May, the tailed types got to stick together.

Great read! (but a bit worried about that voice in his head.

)

Post by **Esynthia** » Wed Aug 12, 2009 4:12 am

Monet likes that voice in his head

Svartfreja · Post by **Svartfreja** » Wed Aug 12, 2009 6:24 pm

Raya: Raya was doing laps in the pool, thoughful as she moved through the water, long braid down her back looking like a wet black snake as she moved. In the red bikini she'd been given--since her one-piece suit had gotten torn on one shoulder--she moved quite sensually, though she didn't expect anyone to be swimming at this hour, with her.

Pietro: Pietro wandered down to the pool. It was stupidly late to be swimming but he couldn't sleep and it was too dark to paint so what else could he do? He sure as hell wasn't going to go for a run - he'd get lost again. He stepped into the poolhouse, not noticing it was occupied til he went to put his towel on a chair.

Pietro: Frowning, he turned to look into the water and, sure enough, there was a woman swimming.

Raya: Raya stood, finishing her lap and wringing out her hair as she climbed up out of the pool, not thinking of anyone being there with her until she turned and saw Pietro, freezing dead still and blinking at him.

Pietro: Pietro raised a hand and waved, "Er, good.... morning?" He was fairly sure it was past midnight by now.

Raya: She only blinked, before slowly, very slowly, reaching down for the towel off her chair, and wrapping it around her securely, though it did little to hide her shape, just the...exposed skin. "Hi..."

Pietro: Pietro smiled good naturedly at her and held out a hand, "Pietro Maximoff - I'm new." And fully clothed.

Raya: Raya looked up at him, almost suspicious, and held out her hand slowly. "Sooraya Qadir. I'm...not new, but it's nice to meet you."

Pietro: Pietro shook her hand then released it and looked over at the pool, the surface of the water already calm. "Yeah... sorry about, er... this..." he gestured between them then grinned at her, "What with the time and everything I wasn't really expecting anyone else to be in here...." He scratched his head distractedly.

Raya: She looked between them, and smiled lightly. "It's...it's fine. I haven't been around a lot lately, but I've heard about you. I... I kinda took up a strange schedule, after last semester."

Pietro: Pietro nodded, "Everyone around here seems to be on an odd schedule at the moment... myself included." He finally tossed his towel onto a chair and then sat down, "Maybe it's something in the air." Or the water... He managed not to grin like an idiot at his own joke. She'd think he was weird.

Raya: "It's...well, we're all kind of that way." She rubbed her arms at the air conditioning still going in the poolhouse, sitting down out of the airflow. "Or the water," she chuckled. "Maybe it's Bobby."

Pietro: Pietro blinked, she'd made the same joke but outloud. Maybe he wasn't being daft after all? He grinned then gave her a confused look, "Bobby?" That was a new name. You came here to swim. Don't get distracted.

Raya: "Um. Bobby Drake, he's another student?" Unless he'd left while she'd been reclusive, and living down in the medlab half the time with Ha--Dr. McCoy. "He can make ice, and turn into it. I found him in the pool once, making an ice shark swim around. It was kinda cute," she said, remembering that. It seemed so long ago, but it wasn't.

Pietro: Pietro nodded, "Wow, that sounds like fun." He smiled at her, "I don't believe I've met him... haven't met a lot of people though." He pulled his top off and paused again, "Sorry... you mind if I swim a bit? I came down 'cause I couldn't sleep."

Raya: "Oh, um. No, not at all, you can swim, of course. Sorry," she murmured, gesturing at the water as she blushed lightly. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

Pietro: Pietro sighed, "I don't know... I never have trouble sleeping... must be the lack of a job doing it." He hadn't been 'unemployed' since he'd left his father. He winced a little, thinking about it. "Restless, you know?" He stood up to take off his trousers.

Raya: "Yeah...I know." She'd stopped working at her own job after the weird...death-maybe-thing. "Maybe you just don't get tired, sometimes we can get worked up around here," she said with a shrug. "You mind if I swim with you?"

Pietro: "No, of course not - you were here first." He smiled at her, putting his trousers and top on the chair with his towel, "And I know I get tired... well..." he sighed, "Mentally anyway...."

Raya: She smiled a little back, unwinding the towel and finally letting him actually get a look at her, completely bared but for the deep red bikini. Her skin a dark tan, even and flawless, even her back was free of the scars she'd had, but couldn't quite remember getting. It appeared dying had changed quite a lot about her. "If you can't sleep, you can always come swim with me...I'm usually up really late. I haven't been sleeping well for a while."

Pietro: "Sorry to hear that," Pietro told her, heading over to the pool, "Sleep is important." He lowered himself into the water, "But at least there's stuff to do here if sleep is elusive." He smiled at her and pushed off to swim a very quick few laps.

Raya: Raya laughed, and settled on the edge of the pool, legs in the water as he swam around. "Yeah..." she smiled at watching him; he was really fast, and smooth in the water. She wondered if he moved like that everywhere else, and found herself blushing before she knew she'd thought about it that much, ceasing following him and staring into the water thoughtfully.

Mayhem: Mayhem walked slowly to the indoor pool, towel slung over his bare shoulder and wearing nothing but a pair of black trunks. It was early enough that no one was likely to be about, and he couldn't sleep. Maybe swimming would help, it was light enough excersize given that he'd had to give up PKing. He scratched the scar on his chest, shouldering into the pool room, the chlorine masking any other scents.

Pietro: After he'd been round the pool seven or eight times, Pietro pulled to a stop in front of Raya. "You going to get in or just sit there and wa-..." He leaned to look round her, "Oh hi... Mayhem, right?" Getting busy in here....

Raya: "May?" she turned around, startled, and almost fell into the pool on seeing him. He looked so different...and it was true she hadn't been really talking to anyone of late, no one but maybe Mara and Selene if they came down, or Cessily. Just girls, really... "God, what happened, Mayhem?"

Mayhem: Mayhem stopped short at the voices - one of which he thought he'd never hear again. "...Raya?" He just stared at her, eyes taking her in, sniffing until he caught her scent under the chlorine. "But...but...you're dead..." He took another step into the room. "I...how?"

Raya: "I...I came back, months ago," she said, barely above a whisper. "I didn't know how to tell anyone...and I couldn't..." she bit her lip, looking conflicted and a little lost with Mayhem there. "I'm sorry."

Pietro: Pietro got the feeling this conversation should be private and discretely moved to continue swimming.

Mayhem: "...You're sorry." Mayhem could feel the anger swing up again but he shook his head, too tired to actually react to it. "No, don't worry about it. Story of my life right now. Jus' good to see you again." And it was, honest. Once he got over the shock. He moved towards the pool, noticing Pietro and giving him a small smile. "Hey there. Sorry for the other day." He sat, his feet in the water.

Mayhem: He looked up at Raya, before self-consciously running a hand over his bald head. "Ah...I never got a chance to tell you..." He shrugged. "I got diagnosed with cancer. In treatment for it. So don't worry. What're you both doin' down here this time of morning?"

Pietro: Pietro stopped again and looked at Mayhem, "No problem," he assurred him, in response to the apology, "And as for what we're doing down here: Not sleeping."

Raya: "Neither of us could really sleep... I'm sorry, May, I really am. I should have told you, but... I didn't know how," she murmured, biting her lip and tugging absently on her braid, suddenly almost ashamed to have all her hair so long. She found she missed seeing Mayhem with the dreadlocks and muscles, but it was still her friend. "When did you get diagnosed?"

Mayhem: "Just...forget abou' it. And before you died. So, y' know, we're even." Mayhem said heavily, before shrugging. "Well, makes three of us. You guys want me t' leave ye alone or you happy for me to stay?" He smiled.

Raya: "Stay," Raya said softly, looking over at Mayhem almost sadly. "I'll leave, if you want."

Mayhem: "Oh fer god's sake, Raya, stop it." Mayhem snorted derisively. "I ain't upset at you. Just stunned. A little. Maybe." He rubbed the catheter site vaguely. "I'm just...having issues." He fingered the slash-scars on his face. "I'll stay s' long as Silver here's happy for it."

Pietro: Pietro blinked at Mayhem, "I've got no problem with you being here. Pool's for everyone." He told him, he frowned a little at the obvious tension.

Raya: "I thought Selene would have told you," she said, slipping into the pool with a little splash, and ducking under the surface. She should have told him earlier...but how could she really explain to someone that had watched her die that she was alive again and alright?

Mayhem: "Haven't really been active myself." Mayhem poked his stomach - still flat, thanks to not eating right, but no longer toned. "Don't let it bother you. Trust me, compared to some people, it's nothing." He balled up his towel and threw it onto a recliner, slipping into the warm water with a sigh of relief. "...That's nice...but yeah. Might have freaked a little a few weeks ago but...like I said, issues."

Mayhem: He floated for a moment, letting the water relax him, before sneezing at the chlorine. "So...Pietro, right? How're you finding school?"

Pietro: Pietro gave a small shrug, "Hard to say... it's all a bit... different at the moment." He ran a hand through his wet hair, "But I'm sure I'll get used to it... at least most of the people I've met so far have been friendly and welcoming."

Raya: Raya broke the surface of the pool, pushing her hair back that had escaped from the braid. "Most people are," she said to Pietro, with a soft smile. "This place does take some getting used to."

Pietro: Pietro smiled back, "I'll bear that in mind..." He was fairly sure he could manage though. One thing he was good at was adapting.

Mayhem: Mayhem ducked under the surface, half-glad he had no dreads that would have to be washed and then dried before he went to bed, before coming up gasping, content to just let his long frame float on the surface of the water, his tail looking like a rat's tail more then ever. "Mmm..." He kept his opinions to himself, staring at the ceiling. He came here to relax, damnit. "What d' ye do, Pietro?"

Pietro: "Do? You mean like a job?" Mutation! "Oh! Sorry..." He grinned, "Near as I can figure, super speed."

Raya: Raya treaded water near them, listening to the conversation turn to their mutations. "That's pretty cool.'

Mayhem: "Cooler than mine." Mayhem grumbled good-naturedly, stealing a surruptious glance at Raya occasionally, just to check she was real. After everything with Monet and all... "I don't usually look this crap. Far as I can tell, I'm a lion furry in the flesh. When I actually have fur, that is."

Pietro: "I'm sure your hair will grow back," Pietro told Mayhem, "And it'll be really soft when it does." He smiled, "So what do you do?" He asked Raya.

Mayhem: Mayhem smiled a little, closing his eyes, feeling the water relax him, just drifting.

Raya: "Um. Not much, really. I can turn into a sandstorm, or...I could before I died," she said, tugging on her hair. "I haven't tried it since."

Pietro: "Oh..." Did she just say died? That's crazy, how can she be talking to you if she's dead? I see dead people.... no that's too weird even for you... Hmm... ah screw it. That thought process happened in the half a second before he said: "Sorry.... um... died?"

Mayhem: "Um." Mayhem uprighted himself, keeping himself afloat in the water. "Yeah...yeah. I was...there when it happened..." He broke off. "You know, I'll let ye field this, Raya."

Raya: She sighed, and moved closer to Mayhem, just out of wanting to be near a friend. One that knew what happened. "I sort of turn into sand...and a while back I got too close to one of the girls here who could burst into fire. and um..." she waved her hands. "She sort of turned me into a glass statue. I got turned back," she said quickly, "But it didn't all come out, and I started turning back, from the inside out. It turned my heart to a glass...rock. And I died. Sort of."

Pietro: "Wow... that... sucks." But you're okay now!... Better not say that... "So what happened? I mean... you're not dead now...." This place is far to complicated. Become a hermit...

Mayhem: Mayhem trod water as Raya came closer, sniffing the air suspiciously and then shaking his head. Too paranoid. Way too paranoid. "Mmm. What did happen? I've...been pretty out of it...thought I was goin' mad, smelling you around the school all the time."

Raya: "I thought someone would have told you. I mean, Mara knew, and Anna, and of course McCoy knew. And Dr. Summers now." She shrugged listlessly. "Anna just touched me, and it healed me. Took all the glass out. It's been a couple months, and there's none still there..."

Pietro: "There are people that can do that?" Pietro stared at Raya, "That's... lucky." It was too, that was for sure.

Mayhem: Mayhem just stared at Raya, then at the water. "Always the last to know. Oh well. Kinda used to it by now." He shrugged. "Still good to see y'." He scratched the scars going across his cheek absently. "Good to know Anna didn't cut you up either." He shuddered.

Raya: "No, Anna didn't. Though I kinda...yeah. I should have come out by now, but you saw me die. And I still don't even exist outside of here. I was declared dead."

Mayhem: Mayhem waved a hand vaguely, frowning irritably. "Just leave it, Raya. Alright? I understand. And yeah...it would have made me freak a little while ago. I'm starting to think nothing affects me any more." Needed to go and see Hepzibah about that at some point...if she even wanted to talk to him after the whole Monet thing.

Pietro: Pietro decided not to ask about the cutting up thing. It was weird enough already. "Hey if you have a death certificate you should frame it and put in on a wall somewhere - it'd be a great conversation starter I'm sure."

Raya: "I do, somewhere, I think. But I registered as a mutant before I died; if I come back they'd probably want to question me, and I can't explain how I came back without talking about everybody else, that may not want to be called out."

Pietro: "Well... this whole place seems to be operating 'under the radar' so you're not entirely out of place here." He smiled at her, "And actually I'm quite glad of that myself - the under the radar thing I mean."

Mayhem: "Think yeself lucky, the pair of you." Mayhem grumbled. "At least you don't look like a freak. Pietro could get away with saying it's a dye job. I don't go into the city much. But you'll be okay, Raya." He turned a smile to the girl. I hope.

Raya: "I'd still go out with you," she said, smiling back lightly. "I think I might go back out to the club soon. Maybe go with Selene..." she rubbed a hand over the back of her neck. "If you help me with my corset."

Mayhem: "I...um..." Mayhem looked down at the surface of the water. "...I can try. I don't...I mean...I don't have a lot of strength right now...which just means I've got the same amount as a normal human..." The chemo had really knocked it out of him. "But...I'd like to try...maybe even come with you...?"

Raya: Raya smiled. "That'd be cool," she murured softly, turning to Pietro. "Have you ever been to the Hellfire Club?"

Pietro: "Er... no? Never even heard of it..." He ducked under the water for a moment to scrub his face, didn't like the feel of the water evaporating off it.

Mayhem: "The club? Some kind of posh fancy-dress thing for rich gits, from what I've heard..." Mayhem splashed the water a little bit. "I haven't been since Selene's birthday...is she a member or something?"

Raya: "I think so...It's not that fancy, except on the fantasy nights. I mean, I'm fine wearing normal clothes." She looked between both boys with a little smile. "You guys should join us sometime."

Pietro: "I think I might want to know a bit more about it before I join..." He was imagining all sorts now.

Pietro: To take his mind off things, he crossed over to the edge of the pool and pulled himself out. Too many people in there to actually swim now. He went to pick up his towel.

Raya: "You don't have to join if you don't want...a couple of people around the school just go. Mr. Shaw is pretty cool with us all being there..."

Mayhem: "Ain' met Shaw." Mayhem yawned hugely, following Pietro's suit and pulling himself out of the pool, picking up his towel and buffing his head dry. "I'm tired now, guys. I'm going to go grab some sleep." He yawned again, accent thickening the more he spoke. "Raya, come see me later, yeah?"

Pietro: "Good night Mayhem... hmm think I should try and sleep some now.... Was nice to meet you Raya." He gave her a smile and dried himself enough to pull his clothes on for the purposes of going back to his room. Shower then sleep.

Raya: "Of course," she murmured to Mayhem, smiling up at Pietro. "Was nice to meet you too, Pietro. I'll see you around."

Pietro: Pietro waved to them both then headed out of the poolhouse. Next time he couldn't sleep, he decided he was going to read a book.

Mayhem: Mayhem watched the boy head out as he dried off the last of his tail. "Looks like I'm getting good at making people uncomfortable..." He muttered to himself, standing. "Later, Raya." He smiled. "Really is good to see you." With that, he waved, then trudged slowly out of the pool room, fatigue hitting him like a lead weight.

Scumfish · Post by **Scumfish** » Wed Aug 12, 2009 11:17 pm

Mayhem: Mayhem sat on the edge of his bed, violin beside him as he ran his bow through the wax, coating the string. His steampunk laptop was open, showing sheet music, which he stared at intently. He was going to crack this piece, damnit.

Raya: Raya leaned around the door as she knocked lightly, peeking into the room to see if Mayhem was in there. "Hey...um. You said you wanted me to come see you?"

Mayhem: Mayhem nearly dropped the bow, concentrating as hard as he was on the music, turning to face the door. For a horrible moment the black hair made him think of Monet, before he banished the image with a wave of his hand. "Yeah...yeah. C'mon in." He smiled a little, loosening the horse-hair and putting the bow next to the violin. He adjusted the bandana. "How're you?"

Raya: "As good as I ever was," she said softly, pushing the door to behind her as she went to sit on the end of the bed. "A little tired, I suppose. How are you?"

Mayhem: Mayhem shrugged. "As good as I get these days." He smiled at her, distorting the scars on his face. "T'ain' easy living with it sometimes. Some days I don't even wanna get out of bed. But I'll be fine. Feel good to be back out in the world?"

Raya: "Feels...nervous," she admits, smiling back at him, still finding him almost disturbingly handsome, even with the scars. "I missed seeing all of you."

Mayhem: Mayhem nodded. "Missed you a lot too. Could have used someone to talk to." He sighed, scratching his chin. McCoy said it would take a little while for him to start getting stubble back, and he was a little thrown out still at the smooth skin. "Things'll settle f' ye soon enough, though."

Raya: She smiled, and shifted to sit beside him, more comfortable next to him than across the bed. "What happened, to...with the cancer? I mean, was it something around here, or did you have it before?"

Mayhem: "I...you remember Mardi Gras, right? And how I went to McCoy for testin' afterwards?" Mayhem flicked an ear. "Well...turns out I caught cancer off one of the girls I..." He shrugged. "Stupid, really. Trying to cure it now...have to live with being bald til then, I guess."

Raya: "Wow. I...I'm sorry, May." She couldn't think of words enough to really convey it, so she just leaned over and hugged him tightly. "You had to get rid of your dreads..."

Mayhem: Mayhem stiffened, then hugged back carefully. "Well...actually they started dropping out. Figured I may as well get 'em gone before I looked weird." He sighed. "I did have wigs but..." He looked away.

Raya: "But what?" she asked, moving back to just sitting beside him, when he'd stiffened at her hug. "I think you look kind of cute this way too..." Raya murmured, looking up at the very bald head. "You look really different, but it's...it's sort of sexy," she said, blushing.

Mayhem: Mayhem blushed, refusing to look at Raya as he shook his head slowly. "Me and Monet...we...had an understanding-" He cut himself off, the anger rising harshly. "It's over." He said shortly. "She fucked me over badly so I washed my hands of her." He drew in a sharp breath, letting it out slowly, the red lining fading with it. "...You really do?" He found himself asking in a small voice.

Raya: "I really do," she murmured back, equally small-voiced as she watched him breathe down his anger. "With your tattoos, and these..." she traced a fignertip very nearly over one of the scars down his cheek, but not touching it. "It fits. And I like it. I'm sorry Monet messed with you."

Mayhem: "It was coming." Mayhem felt a little uncomfortable, so stood, busying himself with putting the violin away. "It's not the firs' time it's happened to me, so I should be used to it." He muttered. "Uh...I uh. I...thanks." He fiddled with the case for a second. Could he believe her? Raya was like Hepzibah - hadn't given him a reason to distrust her, except for not telling him she was alive which was understandable...

Mayhem: He looked at the case in his hands. "Um...Hepzi gave me the scars. Didn't mean to."

Raya: "What happened?" She stayed on the bed, not wanting to follow him around too much, though the distance between them when he got up was nearly palpable. "It's okay if you don't want me to bring it up."

Mayhem: "No, no. 'S alright. You mean the scars or Monet?" Mayhem placed the violin case back with his saxophone, pulling off the bandana and pulling out his pipe, coming to sit back on the bed as he started to thumb tobacco into it. He was too tired to walk down to the garden, and there was always a chance Monet was there, so he settled with having his window open and using an ashtray.

Raya: "Either. You still smoke?" she asked, watching him thumb the fragrant loose tobacco into the bowl of the pipe. She always liked the way that smelled; why, she didn't know. "I like the bandana. It's kind of...bad boy, on you," she smiled.

Mayhem: "Flattery gets ye everywhere." Mayhem smiled slightly. "Aye, I do." He sighed, concentrating on his pipe for a moment. "Well, Hepzi got me when we were trainin' - I got a bit close when she went feral and she caught me across the face. Nothin' major." He shrugged, lighting the pipe and sitting closer to the window, hesitating before patting the bed beside him for Raya to move up.

Mayhem: "As fer Monet...she's been treatin' me bad from the start. Then when I tried to check Hepzi was okay she started getting cozy with another guy to make me jealous, called Hepz a prostitute for tryna look after me an' generally flipped out. Pulled the wig she'd bought me off my head and tossed it into a bin, that kinda thing." Mayhem scrubbed his face. "Got a little angry. Sick of bein' a doormat."

Mayhem: "Kinda told her where t' stick it and walked away."

Raya: Raya nodded; she didn't much like Monet either, and hadn't since the first time she'd insulted her for no reason. "I'm glad you did, if she was treating you badly. But I like Hepzibah...she's always been nice," she murmurs, sliding up next to him. She still felt small beside him, even without the mane of dreds and muscle. "It smells good in here, when you light that up," she said, nodding to the pipe.

Mayhem: Mayhem sighed, breathing out a cloud of fragrant smoke. "I like Hepz too. She worries about me." He looked out of the window for a moment, realising how much he'd missed Raya's spicy yellow-orange scent. "I'd say you smell better." He muttered quietly. "And...I know she's nice. But...I just don't think I'm meant to have friends. None I can trust, anyway."

Raya: Raya only smiled softly at the compliment, blushing just a little over the bridge of her nose. "You can trust me, if you want. I mean...I know I haven't been aorund, but I'd never trick you. Not like that."

Mayhem: "I can't garuntee that." Mayhem pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "No...you smell like I can trust you it's just...my judgement sucks and..." He shook his head. "You get what I'm sayin'?"

Raya: "I get what you're saying. It's...okay," she said softly, leaning up and giving him a soft, chaste kiss on the cheek. "I trust you, so it's okay. I'd still like you to come to the club, with me. We can finally get you a waistcoat, with cogs and stuff on it if you want."

Mayhem: Mayhem sighed a little at the kiss. "I'd...I'd like that." He nodded. "We'll try the shoppin' trip again, yeah? Only...this time without the heart attack." He turned and smiled slightly at Raya. "Missed ya, Raya."

Raya: "Yeah," she murmured. "I'd like it without the dying part, again. It'd kinda suck to explain. I missed you too, Mayhem. I really did."

Mayhem: Mayhem smiled, suddenly feeling awkward but not sure why. "Eh. Well...I'm glad you came back when you did...see...I'm going in f' an operation soon. To...see if they can remove it." He squirmed slightly, putting the pipe in his mouth and inhaling. "I'd...really appreciate support..."

Raya: "I'll be there." She'd have to talk with Shaw, and see if he was still offering his...whtever he was offering, to not have to worry about registration. "Whatever I can do for you, tell me. I'll do it," she smiled, swinging her legs where they rested still hovering over the carpet.

Mayhem: Mayhem wrapped his arm around Raya. "Just...yeah. Y' know." He murmured.

Raya: "Yeah. I know..." she murmured, leaning into him and patting his arm, around her waist. "Sometimes, being us really just sucks." She shook her head. "I know I used to think it was all so good, a blessing, but... It's hard to live with what we are, around everyone else. But we can trust each other." Sometimes.

Mayhem: Mayhem nodded. Maybe. "Yeah well...I still wouldn't be any other way. I like my tail too much..."

Raya: Raya laughed, and nodded against his bicep. "I like it too. It's kinda cute. Big, bad pussycat," she chuckled. "That's you. Dunno what I am." Don't know I want to.

Mayhem: "But I'm not big. Well. Certainly not bad." Mayhem smiled a little despite himself, letting go of Raya to tap out his pipe and relight it. "If I think of one for ye, I'll let y' know, eh?" He gave her a half-smile.

Raya: She snickered. "Do that," she said with a pleasant smile, stretching and itching at one of the strings on her swimsuit, where it lay under the long shirt she had on over it. It was more of a tunic, long enough to cover her to mid thigh, but still shorter than a dress. "No, you're...you're really nice. I like you."

Mayhem: Mayhem blushed a little. "Eh." He said intelligently, smiling slightly bitterly. "Well, so long as someone does. So...now that you're about again...what're your plans?"

Raya: "I...don't know. I mean I can't really work or anything, I'm dead to the world. But I've been keeping up with class stuff, and trying to not get too hot." She'd become almost afraid of getting too hot, after the dying thing, knowing how it was caused.

Mayhem: Mind on the subject. Mayhem coughed. "Well...if Anna cured you, doesn't that mean there's...no way ye'll die again?" Because if there was even the slightest chance...

Raya: "I think. I mean she cured everything, as far as we know." She blinked at him coughing, and a moment later blushed. "I didn't mean quite like that..."

Mayhem: Mayhem gave her an embarressed smile. "Sorry." He muttered sheepishly. "One track mind recently...what with...everything..."

Raya: She smiled, and brushed her hair back over one ear. "It's okay. I mean, if you wanted to see me..." Be calm. "I'd let you. It's not that far from seeing me in a wet bikini, you know?" Please don't look at me like I'm crazy...

Mayhem: "I-I..." Mayhem just stared at her for a moment before he blushed badly. "D-did you just- I mean-" He coughed. "Not that I wouldn't mind - but it's - I mean..." Shutupshutup!! He swallowed nervously. "Sorry...caught me by surprise." He floundered slightly. "I er..."

Raya: "Yeah, I--um....yeah. That wasn't...well, I mean, I meant it like that..." Time to be shutting up now! She bit her lip. "I meant if you think I'm hot just tell me and I'll let you see what you want and it doesn't have to go any farther," she said, all in a rush and with words tripping over themselves, barely distinguishable as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Mayhem: "I-it's okay, you just left-fielded me there..." Mayhem bit his lip at her suggestion. "I uh...I do find you hot but I'm not jus'...going t-to ask you to strip off, it's up to you-" Gods, he couldn't believe he was saying this. "-I-I mean...I couldn't anyway...but I'm not exactly attached any more...er..."

Raya: "I..." she sighed, once. "Okay. I mean, I do kind of...want to," she murmured. "Can I shut the door?"

Mayhem: "Now?!" Okay, that came out as more of a panicked squeak then he meant it to. "U-uh...if...if y-ye want to..." He dropped his pipe, and leant down to pick it up, bright red.

Raya: "Um...I--I meant like just shutting it, just in case anything happens and I don't want someone to walk by and...um, yeah. I'm gonna shut up now."

Mayhem: Mayhem's blush, if anything, got worse, pale cheeks an almost healthy hue. "Er...I-I think...I mean..." He swallowed heavily. "Maybe...maybe not right now, Raya. I-I mean it's not like I don't want to - well...it's just...w-with everything...maybe we should...wait..." He put the pipe down on the table, going to run his hands through his dreads as he used to but only touching skin. "...At least until I'm better..."

Raya: She nodded, and leaned over to lay a soft kiss on his cheek. "It's okay. Don't worry about it."

Mayhem: Mayhem let out a breath, biting a lip. "I uh...thanks." A couple of seconds awkward silence dropped between them like a lead weight before he turned to her with a shy smile. "...You'd really do that for me? Even with y're culture and all?"

Raya: It took her a long minute to give an answer, but she nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I would..." Raya tugged on her uncovered braid, slightly nervous still but smiling softly. "You've already seem me practically naked, that night at Selene's birthday."

Mayhem: "Well...yes...but you were still coverin' the...important bits." Mayhem dropped his gaze before looking back up at her. "...Why?"

Raya: "I already said. I want to," she said quietly. "I'm trying to be more...just more," she shrugged.

Mayhem: Mayhem nodded, trying not to feel too disappointed at that. "I'm...probably not th' best guy to do that with right now, Raya." He smiled at her, before slowly picking up his pipe and pouch, refilling it. "I can't give you anything in return right now beyond maybe kissin'." He concentrated on his pipe. "Mebbe after I've had the operation..."

Raya: "You wouldn't have had to anyway," she answers softly. "But it's okay, Mayhem, don't think about it too much. It's... Probably just better that we don't."

Raya: Raya smiles up at him, moving to sit in the windowsill and swing her legs out. "I'd still like you to go with me to the club, next time... If I go."

Mayhem: Mayhem nodded, still concentrating on his pipe as he meticulously packed the tobacco. "I'd...I'd like it." This had fast got out of his depth, no matter that he wasn't quite as innocent as when he'd first got here. "I'll hafta find a way to get a wig first...or maybe a tattoo on my head..." He smiled a little at the idea.

Raya: She chuckled. "I can get you a wig, if you'll tell me where to find them. Or go with me. Maybe we could get you one with dreds, like you used to have." He'd look good in the clockworked waistcoat she'd been thinking of, with dreds again and his top hat with goggles. "You want a tattoo on your head?"

Mayhem: "Maybe." Mayhem shrugged. "I've always wanted to have a full-body suit tattoo. That's what these," he tapped the ones on his shoulder and chest, "are the start of, really. So yeah, could take advantage, while I'm bald."

Raya: Raya tilted her head, considering him. "I don't know about one on your scalp...I kinda like the way they are. Like little patches of mechanical stuff," she explained, smiling. "I thought abuot getting a tattoo. But it wouldn't last."

Mayhem: "No? How come?" He put the pipe to his lips, lighting it again and finally looking at her. "I don't know. I may get some more done. I like tattoos."

Raya: "Whenever I transform I'd lose them, I think. Bobby does when he goes icey...I don't know how I managed to keep my ears done." She played with the studs in her earlobes, and the little ring up in the top of one ear that Selene had done. "I might go with you once. Just to see what you get. If you want me to."

Mayhem: "You can if you want. I don't mind." Mayhem smiled. "It'll be more steampung stuff...might get somethin' on my tail done." He yawned. "What do you wanna do now?"

Raya: "I think you should sleep, if you're yawning," she smiled softly. "Maybe you could do henna stuff one me, for when we go to the club. I meant to do my eye one over, but...I sort of forgot, till now. I remember it was fading, when..."

Mayhem: Mayhem nodded. "Yeah...I can do that." He said, before yawning again. "Think you might be right. Not sleeping all too great recently..."

Raya: "Then you should sleep. You want me to close your window?"

Mayhem: Mayhem lay his pipe in the ashtray to burn out, hands shaking slightly. "No...leave it open. I like th' scents."

Raya: "If you want," Raya murmured, watching him set the pipe down. "I'll leave you to rest a while, and you can come find me whenever, okay? Maybe tomorrow we can go find stuff." He voice was soft, soothed by the company despite being turned down.

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