[identity profile] x-emplate.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] xp_logs
Now that he's been formally discharged from the medlab, Marius can actually interact with the student volunteers. Unfortunately, the first one he meets is Jamie.



This, Marius reflected as he glared at the contents of the supply closet, really wasn't fair. He was used to more practical punishments, like running laps or community service. He'd never experienced the insidious retribution that was Triple Inventory.

"Attack the staff in a fit of psychosis and all's forgiven, but one consensual experiment and it's three days in the supply closet." Marius eyed the checklist in his hand with unabashed hatred. "This place really is a madhouse."

"Well, about half the student body and most of the staff can blow the place up just by taking the time to think about it, so they're a little strict about unsupervised powers experiments," Jamie said, amused, from behind him. "Marius, right? Mind if I nab a couple rolls of toilet paper, or is that just gonna screw up the whole count?"

Marius blinked at the unexpected visitor, but recovered quickly. He turned and grinned. "Truth? I haven't cared for at least the last three hours." He cocked his head, sizing up the other boy. "You're one of the volunteers, right? Sorry I don't remember your name, but for some strange reason the docs have been not-so-subtly trying to keep me away from students."

"Jamie Madrox." He grinned. "The one with the hot girlfriend, from the journals? I, uh--hm. Okay, what do you do instead of shaking hands? Should I wave, or something?"

"Waving is acceptable. As is bowing or a courtsey. I'm learning to adapt." Marius snapped his fingers. "Ahh, I remember. Brunette-genius-dancer-hot girlfriend, right? You're the 'I'm not twins or triplettes' bloke. What's your power then, makin' people see double?"

Jamie snickered. "Not exactly. Close, but . . . actually? It's kinda easier to show you than explain, d'you mind?"

"So long as it doesn't involve a kick to the head or a savage mauling, I think I can handle it." He unconsciously flexed his hand. The catbites still stung.

"Yeah, I heard about that. Don't worry, I'm not the hurty kind of mutant." Jamie theatrically snapped his fingers, and with a soft pop of displaced air another one of him appeared. The second one grinned, waved, and gave the first one bunny-ears.

Marius raised an eyebrow. "I'd ask whether or not that was an illusion, but that seems a bit ridiculous when I'm getting a second reading of mutant." He considered the dupe curiously. "You must be brilliant at multi-tasking. How many can you make?"

"Depends on what I'm doing." The first Jamie took the dupe by the shoulder, and it disappeared with another soft pop. "I'm up to about two dozen if none of them are doing anything complicated, but three or four at once is more comfortable. Right now I'm running five of me, between homework, jobs, and--" he grinned, "looking for toilet paper. And yeah, I actually get a little twitchy if I'm not multitasking. Wacky mutant brain."

Marius nodded. "Sounds like Forge's compulsive tinkering. Must be a mutant thing." A thought occured to him. "Maybe you're the bloke I should be talking to about that Totally Voluntary Marrow Donation bit, then. Moira's been insistent on that. Sometimes with blunt objects for punctuation."

"Aah." Jamie deflated a bit. "Okay, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I think that wouldn't be a good idea." He gave Marius a half-grin. "It's not you, it's me? Seriously, the way my powers work--Doc MacTaggart figured it out, she is scary smart--I get the extra mass for the dupes off the astral plane, sort of. It's technically ectoplasm. Which doesn't mean much as far as every day, except that it needs . . . me, my mind, to keep it stable."

He thought for a second, then discarded whatever it was he was going to say. "You really need to get the Doc to explain it, she does a better job than I do. Anyway, if you're actually . . . eating actual pieces of your volunteers, or whatever . . . either we'd have to make absolutely a hundred percent sure every single time that the specific dupe you fed off of stuck around until after you've finished digesting, or . . ." He grinned. "We find out if you can puke out your hands too. Sometimes when I'm really in a huge munchie rush I've eaten duped food, and it gives new definition to the term 'bad poops.'"

Marius considered this, and made a face. "Ectoplasm? Think I'll pass. Shoulda known that'd have been too easy." He reflected for a moment. "And I was about to say somethin' about puking out of my hands, but apparently Rahne was pickin' undigested marrow out'a her fur after I tried overeatin' the last time. Looks like the eyes are bigger'n the stomach. Or whatever it is the chompy bits see with when I'm checked out."

"Oh, yeah, I heard about that." Jamie affected a stern look. "I hope you're not gonna be one of those guys who gives a girl a hickey and then never calls. Rahne's a nice girl, she deserves better."

Marius spread his hands. "Since even I'd hit me for pullin' a 'just couldn't help myself' line, I'm gonna be straight an' say I've never been less thrilled to have a psychotic blackout. Rahne wouldn'ta been top of my list of people to snack on. Forge is one thing, but Rahne's got class. Feel a bit bad about that. I've got policy to at least spring for supper before the rollin' around on the floor comes into it." He grinned. "A suggestion also sure to land me back in Moira's tender mercies. Although . . ." his grinned broadened. "You can leave campus, right?"

Jamie raised an eyebrow. "I actually think I'm taking more credit hours than physically exist in a week, and also multiple jobs, so yeah, I tend to find myself in the city off and on . . . whatcha need?" He grinned. "Although I gotta warn you, if you're planning anything big you might have to answer to her boyfriend if you ever find yourself kidnapped off to Asgard. Word to the wise."

Marius waved a hand. "Nothin' that'd result in another week of inventory. Just my little way of saying sorry I went crazy and chewed on you. So," he said, rubbing his hands together, "is there a florist 'round here?"

Date: 2005-10-31 04:26 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] x-tarot.livejournal.com
Hand vomit? Bad poop? You are both wrong. FUNNY. But -wrong-.

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