xp_logs | LOG: [Angelo, Haller] On the porch

The smoker's porch sees more traffic, and Haller learns interaction with Angelo is far less traumatic than interaction with his boss.

The dog had dragged him halfway round the grounds before she finally burned off her energy, and so Angelo felt he'd earned a cigarette. So he headed to the smoking porch before going back inside.

Jim heard a metalic jingle and looked up from lighting his cigarette. There was a boy walking a chocolate lab towards him -- or rather, being dragged. The pairing rang a bell. Jim pocketed his lighter and exhaled before greeting the boy.

"Good morning -- Angelo?" he hazarded. Nathan's assistant, he thought. Jim had seen him around on occasion.

"That's me", he said cheerfully. "An' you're the new student counsellor.... Haller?"

Jim nodded. "David, please," he smiled. He indicated the dog with his cigarette. "Nice dog. What's her name?"

"Joyita. Birthday present from my ex-girlfriend, when I turned eighteen." He grins, settling on a bench to light his own cigarette. "Wasn't my ex then, of course."

Jim stuck the cigarette in his mouth and crouched down to let the dog sniff his hand. She responded with a moment of wuffling followed by a lick. "I didn't know pets were allowed. Or at least the uncaged sort."

"Oh, sure. There's at least two cats around - actual cats, not Catseye, a tortoise, Nate's bird - an' don't let her fool you into thinkin' she's caged, she knows how to open the door."

"Oh, yes, Nathan's bird. I forgot he had a real one as well as the Big Flaming Obvious one." Jim settled himself against the railing and took another drag. "You're his assistant, aren't you? Brave of you. I've seen his office."

"Yeah, I work for him. Not the only one now, either." He grinned. "Recruited my roomie into it, a couple days ago."

"New blood to the fight, hm? Who's your roommate?"

"Bobby Drake. Blond guy, ice powers, you might've seen him around. Pretty much my best friend."

"Bobby?" Jim repeated, grinning. "Oh, yeah, I remember Bobby. He used to be the guy they'd call when whatever I'd just set on fire was too much for the normal extinguisher. He's grown up a lot since then. Terry, too."

Angelo blinked slightly, then remembered. "Oh, yeah, they said you'd been here before. Before my time, obviously."

"Before most people's." Jim pondered. "It was . . . six years ago? Sounds about right. I was eighteen." He smiled. "And agitated."

"Hence the settin' fire to things? An', yeah, I've only been here just over two."

"And graduated already? Good for you." He took another drag and smiled. "Nathan says you've been a lot of help in his side-projects."

"I try. He helped me get a lot of stuff straight when I was still a student here, so I figured I could return the favour."

Jim laughed. "He is surprisingly helpful, isn't he? If I had any useful skills whatsoever I'd volunteer myself. Unfortunately, my expertise doesn't extend much beyond the human skull. I'm not much use in the paper-trail area."

"You'd be surprised what he can find a use for", Angelo told him with a grin, drawing on his cigarette. "Can't hurt to ask."

"I guess not," Jim agreed. He gave the younger man a lopsided smile. "Incidentally, can I say how glad I am you mentioned you're over eighteen? I've already had to give the obligatory 'If you want to kill your lungs you'll have to wait until you're legal' speech six times on this porch. The irony did not escape me."

"I'm over eighteen now", Angelo said with a wry grin. "Been killin' my lungs on this porch for a good bit longer than that. But hey, 's in the past now, right?"

Jim snorted. "That was actually one of the worst things about living here -- Charles didn't let me smoke, and there was no one to beg from. I don't think this was even the smoker's porch yet last time I visited. How times change."

Angelo shrugged, amused. "Half of us were smokin' before we ever got here. Cruel an' unusual punishment to deny us our cigarettes. The roof's a good place for it, too, before curfew."

Jim made a face. "I had a private nurse. Or as I called her, the professional chapherone. And of course the student body was still small enough that Charles could still keep an eye on everyone, so there wasn't much possibility of escape. Did manage to get myself up in a few trees, though. He's not a complete tyrant."

"Oh, he's a long way from that", Angelo agreed. "Gives us more leeway than most private schools would."

"And all the tea we could want." Jim grinned. "Ever. Although it's weird -- you miss it when it's gone. I used to wonder if he spiked it." He twisted his cigarette in amusement. "Then again, at least it doesn't cause cancer."

"So where'd you go when you left here, the first time?" Angelo asked curiously.

"Back to Muir. I was stable enough that I could continue my therapy without Charles." Jim took a reflective drag. "Came back a few times for progress reports, or when I was having a patch of more-crazy-than-usual. After the last time I was actually able to start outpatient treatment. Stumbled a few times, but I've been doing just fine for the past couple of years." He nodded at Angelo. "What's your story?"

"Mine?" A drag on the cigarette. "Short version is... gang kid out in LA, manifested at sixteen an' nearly got killed by my friends, got picked up an' brought here when Scott found me, an' I've been here ever since."

Jim smiled wryly. "Yeah, there's nothing like almost getting killed to make you reevaluate your life. You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself, though."

"I'm not doin' so bad now. Had my moments, though, these last two years. Kind of up an' down."

"I know how that goes." Jim laughed. "I would tell you to take comfort in the fact yours probably didn't come with third degree burns and blunt-force trauma, but considering where we are that's not a safe assumption. I think I'm mostly caught up with the demon invasions and cyborg attacks now."

"Uh... there were third-degree burns, actually. Guy who used to be here, John, he was a pyrokinetic. An' durin' one of the attacks, he tried to get rid of that set of attackers with his powers, but they tasered him or somethin' before he could put the fire out. Bobby got there before it spread far, but..."

Jim serenely tapped the ash from his cigarette. "See? This is exactly why I didn't assume. Although it's nice to know I'm not the only pyrokinetic Bobby's had to deal with -- I was feeling guilty there for a while." He cocked an eyebrow at Angelo. "If I can ask, what's your power?"

"Sure, you can ask. I'm kind of unique, so they tell me - my skin stretches. Can pick stuff up with it."

Jim blinked, then grinned. "Prehensile skin? That is unique. And it explains how you can survive in Nathan's office. He's got telekinesis to keep the piles at bay, but I guess that works too." He took the cigarette out of his mouth and rolled it again. "For the record, I'm a technically a broad-band psi, like Nathan, but telepathy's the only thing I can still access. If we have another home-invasion you shouldn't have to worry about a repeat incident."

Angelo nodded and drawled, "Kinda hopin' it won't happen at all. But that's good to know anyway."

"I hope so, too, but it's Xavier's. I'm not placing any bets. And personally, I like to know who it's safe to stand next to in a fight. Figured I'd pass on the favor." Jim stubbed out the remains of his cigarette in the ashtray balanced on the railing and extended a hand to Angelo. "And now I'd better get going for my appointment with Charles. It was nice talking to you. I'm sure we'll see each other around."

Angelo nodded, smiling, and shook hands. "Pretty hard not to, 'round here. Good meetin' you too."