Summary:Bobby tries to teach Quinn to skate, fails. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
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It's midday, and the mansion is quiet for the time being; the students are mostly in classes, and the adults are tending to whatever their jobs around here are. Bobby's the in-house accountant these days, and with no-one really except for the Professor to answer to, he works largely according to his own schedule. He might not be well-known as the most responsible guy on campus, but he gets his stuff done and keeps the gears turning smoothly. At least so far. Right now? It's his lunch break. Or at least, that's what he's telling himself to justify being out of the office and on the back lawn of the school.
It's hot out, but there's a solution to that. A large sheet of ice covers a good portion of the lawn, and a short wall surrounds it. Skating rink. Bobby is out there in shorts and a t-shirt, with ice-skates (made of ice, of course), as he maneuvers around the rink like a pro. He may or may not be out-loud singing "Let It Go" from Frozen. You'd have to get closer to find out.
*
Boring. Boring. Boring. Boring.
Every class that was in session was boring. The only reason why she wasn't there in the back of the class herself is because of the need to impulsively either roll her eyes, correct, or blurt out the answer when someone gets it wrong. She's -TRYING- to change, and her way of changing is pure avoidance.
Thankfully she wasn't in her dress hospital gown. She was able to move around in clothes that felt comfortable to her. A pair of capris with a basic NIN logo shirt, her pink hair tied into a high ponytail and glasses that sit upon the bridge of her nose. Outside is where she's going, mostly to wander the yard and probably just walk away from the institute all together. Maybe.. just maybe she'll do that.
With a glance out yonder, she sees Bobby ice skating, and… what a good way to start the day by ruining someones fun. She could hear singing, but..
Her hand reaches out, fingers trembling, which soon collapse into a fist as cracks begin to form all along the ice that he skates upon. Those cracks separate, drawing upward and downward, making everything uneven so that he could trip and fall. Maybe. Lets watch and see!
*
Let it goooooo, let it goooo…. what the hell? Bobby stumbles on the ice as it cracks, and reaches out with his hands and his powers to try to repair the ice. And he might meet some success, but if Quinn keeps it up, he won't be able to fix it fast enough. Eventually, he'll just give up, and end up sliding across the cracked ice on his knees. "What the hell?" He vocalizes, making a face and looking around. Maybe just to see if anyone witnessed that, but then he spots Quinn and puts two and two together. "So was it the skating, the singing, or the very idea of mindless fun?" He shifts around to sit down directly on the ice, legs crossed, leaning back as he looks toward Quire, waiting for an answer.
*
It seems that only with Bobby, Quinn finds the time to truly laugh. Truly! For while he was trying to fix it, her hands were clapping and she was laughing. All on approach, she stops at the tail end of the makeshift ring/rink with her hands now folded across her chest. "All of it?" She admits. "You're the only one who willingly hangs around me. Who else am I going to torture." And, it was true. "You have a horrible voice." And then she laughs again, but this time pushes her glasses upon her nose to make sure they don't fall from her jiggling.
*
Bobby's singing voice isn't that bad. It's not that good either, so he just shrugs. "You're pure joy, you know that, Q?" He smirks. All in all, considering Quinn's general attitude toward things, wrecking a makeshift skating rink is pretty small potatoes, and Bobby knows it, so he's not actually that upset. It's just ice. He glides to his feet, and points his hands at Quinn's feet, causing ice to build up around them and form a pair of skates just like his. "Come on. I refuse to believe that for all your brilliance you haven't learned to skate."
*
That.. that was unexpected. Granted she was a little sick of him being nice to her but.. what? She doesn't say a thing; because truthfully? All -of- that brilliance she had and she does NOT know how to skate! "Uh.." She stammers out, face turning red as a beet as she holds her hands outright to steady herself. Goddamn it! What does she do?
*
"Oh you have GOT to be kidding me," Bobby says, stifling a laugh as he glides out to meet her. He'll even offer his arm for her to use to steady herself. "It's easy. Angle your feet a bit like this," he shows her by doing it himself, "And push to one direction at a time to move forward." Or she could just rip the information out of his brain, really, but that wouldn't be very nice. "It's fun, Quinn. Remember fun?"
*
Quinn did not like this. Alarm bells were going off in her head so bad that she was practically crouching with her butt stuck out. Even as he comes closer, her arms wrap around the offered elbow, cheek to his arm, all the while her legs tremble and shake with the effort of her trying to keep herself upright. "Shut up.." She snaps out a little, still inching forward, attempting to follow the instructions but.. damn, it's not looking really promising. His mention of fun has her snorting. "I know how to have fun. I was in a coma, I didn't .." She eeps quietly, nearly losing her glasses, which were pushed back again on her nose. "..this is not m.." She eeps again, then quits talking. What was the point?!
*
Hey, at least she's trying. Bobby's effortless on his skates, and not just because he made them, and the rink, and has a natural affinity to moving on his own creations. Although maybe. "You do?" He feigns surprise, but keeps a firm hold so she doesn't feel like he's just gonna let her fall on her ass. Meanwhile the ice of the rink repairs itself, returning to a nice flat, smooth surface. "I mean, I don't think I've -ever- seen you go out of your way to do something that was just fun," he says. "Concentrate on your balance, and keep your feet planted at that angle," Bobby advises. You can do this, Quinn. It's not rocket science.
*
Save from using her gifts, which she won't right now, Quinn has zero balance. It was even starting to burn her legs. Thankfully while she was under, the nurses and everyone else managed to work her muscles to make sure they didn't atrophy, but still, this much strain is making her tired. "M..my fun.." She eeps, tensing, drawing her legs together, then attempting to straighten, only to stick her butt out again and lean against him. ".. yo..you can't handle my brand of fu.." EE-EEK! She lets out, now she was digging her nails into her arm, all the while attempting to concentrate, talk, keep her feet planted, everything.
*
"Looks like you can't handle my brand of fun either," he retorts, noting her legs starting to give out on her. Bobby winces a bit when she digs her nails in, but he can handle it! Don't show weakness! "Come on Quinn, you can do this. Find your center of balance, keep your feet steady, straighten your knees." He'll help her up if need be, and hold her as steady as he can, but it's gonna be up to her to get her balance. As much as he can make and control the ice, he can't do that part for her. Besides, forcing herself to do something outside of her comfort zone would be good for Quinn. At least, that's his thinking. It might be too soon.
*
Yup. Way too soon. This level of activity was pure exertion that she wasn't even prepared for. Unless it was tied to some other activity? She wasn't here for it. And apparently her current point of shape wasn't either. She was out of it. "Nope." Yeah. She wasn't going to do it, so much so that she awkwardly slides down his side, clinging to his leg right until a hand is placed upon the floor, and her right along with it. For her to be her age, it seemed like a little temper tantrum. So much so, that she's face flat. Her ponytail hung right on the side and spattered against the ice as if she were punched, and she heaved heavily. "Im.." Huffs. "..out of shape.." Huff. Her legs were burning.
*
"Maybe we start a little slower," he says, crouching down next to her. The 'skates' on her feet disappear, and he gives her a condescending little pat on her back. She'll love that. "Come on, let's get off the ice. I'll let it melt, and we can go.. I dunno, maybe you just need to walk around a bit more before you start training for the hockey team." He gives her a little smirk, and once again offers her his arm to pull Quinn up to her feet so she can get to more stable ground. "Thanks for trying, at least."
*
This bummed Quinn out. Imagine it was Tuesday, cause the school usually always gets attacked on Tuesday, does it? She can't remember. But then there -is- an attack and she cannot handle the fall out. Running is out of the question, let alone flying. She was totally going to diiiiieeee.. "Ugh.." She says quietly, totally embarrassed. She does allow him to help her up, her moment of vulnerability showing through, glasses snatched off and stuffed in her shirt. "You're such a fucking asshole for that." She could have easily told him no and did nothing, but.. she tried, right?!
*
"No shame in it, Quinn. You were in a coma. It's gonna take some time," Bobby says, letting her go once she's up and off the ice. "I'm sorry I pushed you." He thought she'd be able to handle it. Clearly he misjudged, and he maybe he feels a bit badly for it. "I can help you work on getting your strength back, if you want. Take it slow and build up your muscles again."
*
Quinn shakes herself free once she's up and off of the ice. She was a little bit cold, but it was a refreshing cold. The heat of the air felt like a blessing against her skin. "How?" She asked. "Are you going to make some dumb ass ice skating ring again and have me do some weird ass finger banging push ups?" Okay, half of what she said didn't make any sense. But she was still attempting to catch her breath, wheezing a little. "Look, I just need to sit down. I can't deal with this right now." Once again, she should have never gone outside. She doesn't march over to the porch, but she's moving as if she were kicked in the junk, a slow and purposeful stride with her head up, glasses snatched from her top and put on. "You wanna be useful? Ramen. I want ramen. With extra pork belly. And maybe some sharp cheddar and crackers." Yeah. Order Bobby around!
*
"What? No. I was thinking like.. go for a walk. Work up to swimming. Maybe some light sparring or something, when you're feeling stronger. I'm not like a personal trainer or anything. This isn't the Marines." Bobby shrugs, and walks along beside Quinn toward the porch. ".. you want me to get you soup?" That's an odd request coming from her. He's got this confused look on his face, like he's expecting the other shoe to drop. ".. alright."
*
"A walk I can do." A walk to her Manhattan apartment. She forgets how far away it is. "Or maybe a drive." If she could have a servant give her things, she would so do it. "I rather just be fine now and not ha.." She shakes her head, her lips pursing. "Okay. Lets walk to your car. I want to go to Manhattan. I haven't been home since I've gotten here and.." She wanted to see if everything was as she left it. Maybe then, she'll feel like a person. "..can you take me?" She nearly choked as she said it, but sniffs hard to draw in the tears. "Please." Deadpan.
*
Bobby lets out a bit of a sigh. He pulls out his phone to check the time, and slips it back in his pocket, and then looks at Quinn again. She's putting it on, and he knows it, but… There's really no reason he /can't/. And he did make her push harder than she was ready, so he owes her at least a little. "Fine." He's reluctant, but agreeable. This probably isn't a good idea. Isn't she supposed to stay here? He'll just have to keep an extra close eye on her. She wouldn't try to run, right? "Let's go. Just.. promise me you're not gonna make me regret this."
*
Inside, she was close to regretting even asking him. She was close to stretching herself thin and picking up to the skies to fly to manhattan herself, comatose be damned. But, he agrees! She claps her hands, then stands with a grunt, much like an old woman would. "Promise?" Quinn smirks. "You know I'm honest. And you know that I am not going to make a promise that I damn well know I won't keep." Her shoulders shrug, then she reaches out her hand. "Should we hold hands and skip? You're usually into that bullshit." Annnd now she's back to picking on him. Probably for embarrassing her.
*
Well that's true. Bobby enjoys a good skip. He makes a bit of a face at her, and swats her hand away, but not in a mean way. He doesn't really have a mean bone in his body. "Yeah, I know you're honest. To the point of harm, if memory serves," he says. But she's right, he's never caught her in outright lie. She also didn't agree to anything just there, he notices. "Just don't run off on me. I'd hate to have to ice you and drag you back here frozen in carbonite. I'll admit though, I've always been curious to see how you live when you're away from the school. Lifestyles of the rich and famous, and all that." He'll lead her across the grounds and to the garage, where his fabulous little piece of crap Honda is stabled with the rest of the luxury automobiles. Bobby Drake rides in style, yo.
*
"Where can I go, Bobby?" She says, mock rubbing her hand. Well, there are tons of places she -could- go, but it's been a while. A long while. Things change, yo! "Rich and famous my ass. My fake parents maybe, me? Not so much. Not anymore." But, once they get into the garage, his little crap Honda was stared at, nose wrinkled at, but it was good as any. If the world were a lot nicer, or.. Quinn was a lot nicer, she'd foot the bill for him a new car. But really? There was no reason to. She got in, put on her seatbelt, then folded her arms like a petulant child, waiting for them to leave.
*
Frankly, Bobby considers it a win that she even put a seatbelt on without him having to prod her. He crawls into the driver's side and keys the ignition. "I don't know where you'd go, Quinn. Probably nowhere I couldn't chase you down if I had to, though," he says with a most definitely infuriating smirk. He likes his car. It's not much to look at, but it's one of few things in the world that is his, and his alone. And it's got one of those awesome mid-2000s detachable CD player faceplates. He looks over at Quinn, with her arms crossed practically pouting, and gives her a little nudge with his elbow. "Buck up, champ. I'll let you control the music." There's an iPod plugged into the auxiliary input (yeah, an iPod, not even a phone), which she can peruse. It's mostly 90s and 2000s alternative and pop, some old-school hip-hop, with a handful of recent Top 40 garbage for flavour. Maybe to remind him to keep up with the times. The car starts properly, and pulls out of garage. And away they go!
*
"I went somewhere for two years. I know we weren't friends but you couldn't find me where I was." And she would never tell. She just looks out the window, ignoring the nudges, mostly just mentally preparing herself to go back home. She didn't say anything about the music. Hell, even five minutes into the drive she said nothing, but she finally did relent.
Such as, grabbing up the ipod and shuffling through it, her lips working in concentration as she finds something familiar. Tool. Sure it doesn't match the T-Shirt that she wears but, she puts on forty-nine and two and lets it go. It was back to looking out the window again, and without even mentioning where she lives, she implants the urges of the turns and path for Bobby to follow, nothing terribly too daunting.
"Everything is still strange."
*
"Maybe I couldn't. Maybe we should have tried a little harder though," Bobby says, frowning. In truth, he doesn't know what they could have done. When someone goes wherever Quinn went, it's definitely not in Bobby's wheelhouse. "I know we weren't exactly friends, but you were still family." Yeah. The X-Family. Bobby's one of those 'drink the kool-aid' types. He drank the whole pitcher. Oh yeah.
How he knows where to go doesn't even occur to him to ask. He just does. It won't be until they're at their destination that he'll figure it out. Not that Bobby's dumb, just sometimes a little bit oblivious. "It'll get better the more you're back in it, Q. It's gonna take some time. Everything takes time, no matter how smart or powerful you are." He's like a goddamn after-school special. How annoying it must be. When the music comes on, he almost immediately starts bobbing his head along, even mouthing the words.
*
"It doesn't matter anymore." Quinn grumbles, looking out the window. In fact, she sinks further down into her seat, her arms crossing and knee lifting to put her foot on the dash. "You're like a goddamned after school special.." She mumbles quietly. Now, she remains quiet, not offering up a word or anything to keep the conversation going. Her face remains plastered against the window, watching everything that's been new in the past two years going by, even all that would make her wonder.. It's.. all just so different. Maybe she herself was different because of it..
*
"Not the first time I've been told that," Bobby admits, a touch ruefully. "Doesn't make me wrong though." Bobby turns his attention to the road; he knows where he's going, just not consciously. Turn. Turn. Stop at red light, grow impatient at people who aren't crossing the street fast enough. No, don't honk your horn at them. Eventually though, the car pulls up in front of Quinn's building, and Bobby pulls into a parking spot. "We're here. Wait. We're here?" He looks out the window, and then at Quinn. "How.. what?"
*
Quiet still. Up until they pull up towards the high rise and Quinn unbuckles her belt, glancing towards Bobby, her own smile rueful. "You're in your car with a psychic. How -not-?" She gets out, then waits at the door for Bobby to shut the keys and exit. As she does, a man immediately comes rushing out, practically gushing over the appearance of Quinn.
"Quintavia! Oh how good it is to see you! I don't know how long it's been!" He squeals.
Awkwardly, Quinn settles him down with a few pats to his shoulder, leaning in to whisper into his ear, then points towards Bobby. After all was said and done, the man awaits, his hand held out to take the keys from the young man to park the car as instructed.
*
Bobby lets out a little sigh at her explanation, but lives with it. When Quinn gets out, so does he, and walks around to the other side of the car to witness the exchange between the young woman and the man. He's initially hesitant to give up the keys to his baby, but does so before following Quinn to the door. "Looks like they haven't forgotten about you," he says as he walks up beside her. "He better not chip my paint or anything.." Not that it would be noticeable. The car is not in pristine condition. "So this is where you hang your hat when you're not slumming it up at the school, huh?"
*
"If he does, I'll buy you a new car." Which, she really could! As the doors open for her, she steps inside, her eyes squinting as glasses were pushed up and she heads right towards the elevator. "Yeah." She states, pressing the elevator button up. The door opens immediately, and they step inside, and she presses the floor 13 for them to go. In fact, she was moving like a robot to the point where it was unnerving. But she was unnerved. Imagine going home after two years, not a word from anyone or a care. "You might actually like it." She muses quietly. And once the sharp ding rings through the elevator, they exit, and are met by a single, solitary door. "Uh.." She starts, then looks around. "Where did I put that key.."
*
"I kinda hope he chips the paint," Bobby retorts almost immediately. How shallow his loyalty! He follows Quinn inside, and into the elevator. Of -course- she lives on the 13th floor. Of course she lives in a building that even -has- a thirteenth floor. When they get out, and hers is the only door, he's a little bit impressed. Let's be honest, he was already pretty impressed. She has a doorman for gods' sake. "You didn't bring your key?" Now how the hell are they supposed to get in? I mean, Bobby could freeze and shatter the lock, but that seems a bit extreme when the doorman probably has a spare.
*
Quinn studies the area, her memory, anything for a thought of the key. Her hand lifts, visualizing the locks on the other door, each one turning and clicking into place, allowing it to slowly swing open with a gentle, TK push.
As they enter into the main foyer, the smell was slightly old. Old in the sense that the air was stale, there was no cleaning done in that time and obvious dust had collected, dishes were washed but left there for those years, everything was white, in it's place.
Home sweet home..She thinks, now just moving through the penthouse. Touching here. There. Fiddling through a few things to re-familiarize herself with the place. "At least nothing has changed.." She says quietly. If Bobby wanted to wander, he could. Right now? She was trying to remember.. did she come here before she was attacked? Did they all come here?
*
"Or that works," Bobby comments as she tk-magics the door (might as well be magic, right?). He steps in after her, and casts his eyes about the place. That they're the first people inside in a couple years is obvious at first sniff, but really, having been a teenager in college dorms that might be the least offensive smell Bobby has ever taken in. "Nice.." he says as he looks around. And yeah, he'll wander. When Quinn moves around on her own, he won't follow, but instead go off on his own little exploratory adventure. If left to his own devices, he'll get his nose into all kinds of places she might rather he not. Nosy.
*
To be continued?
*