Victor Borkowski and Tommy Jones
Mar. 22nd, 2008 11:10 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsAfter a tour of the school, Vic meets Tommy Jones.
It was with a small sigh that Tommy breathed in the nicotine from the newly lit cigarette. Classes had been long and tiring today thanks to midterms and papers, then to top it off, and experiment with his powers that he'd been trying to run all week had failed miserably. The cold and the cigarettes were a refreshing change, both calming him down and letting him release the stress of the day. He leaned against the door of the porch and looked out over the lawn, just...relaxing.
This school was insane. It was huge and there lots of kids like him. And it was nothing short of amazing. Victor Borkowski wasn't even sure what he should make of it all, let alone remember half of the things he'd been shown. In fact, it was by sheer luck he'd managed to find the entrance to the school. He took a deep breath and stretched - that had been such a long walk. His eyes drifted to a smoking teen? Student? Person. Victor was never one to be rude, so, he offered him a wave. "Hi," he said.
It was by chance that Tommy glanced over when the other waved at him and he couldn't help his eyes going wide for a moment at the green color of the other's skin. It was still his reaction to visible mutants that had been ingrained in him, but at least the revulsion was gone. He nodded to the other, taking another deep breath off the cigarette before he took it from his lips. "Afternoon."
"Vic," he said and then held out his hand. "Just got the grand tour." He'd registered the wide eyes, he was used to it. At least this guy did not look disgusted. That was a step forward. In his life, you had to get used to that kind of thing.
It would surprise Vic to know just how much a step forward it was. And if he was checking out the school, it probably would come out sooner rather then later. "Tommy." He shook the offered hand with the one not holding the cigarette, his gloved hands standing out against the green. "Are you looking to come live here or just for training?" He asked politely before replacing the cigarette in his mouth.
"I dunno," he said. "To be honest, I'm still sorta figuring it all out. I think it'd be nice to have a place to stay that wasn't tiny and in a shady part of town." He had a soft grin. "I'd really like to understand my powers, too."
Tommy snorted softly in response to that. "Well, this place is good for that."
"How do you like it here?" Vic tilted his head a bit, studying Tommy. Vic wasn't sure what to make of him.
"Considering the options...it's not bad." He couldn't really be honest, in the fact that the mansion was his only options. That if he left the grounds unattended...there was a very good chance he wouldn't return alive. Of course, Tommy kept his expression straight, not hinting at this at all.
That was entirely....not helpful. "Cool," he said. "How long have you been here?" He slipped his hands in his pocket and wondered what his powers were. The gloves were a little...well, suggestive? That or he was a major germphobe. Only time would tell.
Sighing as he realized he was the wrong person for Victor to be having this conversation with, he took another draw off his cigarette before he answered. "Two years." He gave the other a frank look. "I apologize. I've had a rough day, I don't mean to be short." Which would be contrary to what most likely everyone else in the mansion would say about him, but he was genuinely sorry for his mood.
It's cool," he replied. "You've got the broody tortured soul thing going on. I dig." He grinned a bit. "It's sexy in a Buffy sort of way. Try not to overdo it, and you should be fine." He's...mostly cracking a joke at your expense, but he's not offended by your shortness. "Everyone has one of those days." Stupid bad days.
That made Tommy crack a small smile. Broody tortured soul. Yeah, that about summed him up. Though he wasn't sure about the sexy part...Not that he wasn't, but that this kid was calling him such. "Yeah. Still doesn't mean I should take it out on the almost new kid. Believe me, most of the people are friendlier then I am who live here."
Someone was full of himself, now weren't they? "Well, I think if this is you on a bad day," Vic began, "you on a good day couldn't be much worse." See the logic there?
And now Tommy laughed, a slightly bitter tone to it. "Most of the mansion wouldn't agree with you, believe me." He took another breath off his cigarette, still chuckling.
"Well, I'm not most of the mansion," he replied. "You seem like you could be a decent guy, and that makes us five by five in my book." Who knows, maybe that would change if he decided to live here. "How old are you?"
"I thought you wanted to know more about the mansion." He asked with a raised eyebrow, voice level. No point in being friends. the man wouldn't take kindly to a former Friend of Humanity no doubt, not with a mutation like his. The he lifted his chin slightly, not afraid to answer his question anyway. "Nineteen."
"Me too," he said. "Can't be interested in you, too?" Well. Not in that way, anyway. He rolled his eyes a bit. "What's your favorite part about the campus. Student perspective, obviously."
Tommy gave him a look but went on to answer the other's second question. "The library tends to be my favorite spot. Has just about anything you could want, from textbooks to literature and has enough corners you can almost have the illusion of privacy." His favorite couch happened to be by the windows near the classic poetry, a place he intended to frequent as soon as he was done here.
"Favorite section of the library?" Victor asked, tilting his head.
Tommy just looked him in the eye as he said, "Poetry."
"Cool," he replied. "What kind? Milton, Shakespearean Sonnets or are you more into contemporary works?" He grinned. "it's not Sylvia Plath is, it because..." It'd be a tad cliche. But before Tommy could get huffy with this sudden interest in him, Victor asked, "what do you guys do for fun here? When you're over the age of 18?"
"Contemporary." Tommy sneered slightly before chuckling. "That's not poetry it's garbage. You were right the first time, I like the older British masters." It was...odd admitting this to someone so easily, but then Victor didn't know him and once he did, this conversation wouldn't matter. It wasn't like he kept any of this a secret anyway. He read it out loud in the library for Yvette whenever she wanted. "I'm afraid I'm the wrong person to ask that question." He admitted easily, as he inhaled off his cigarette again. "I keep to myself."
"Big and Broody," Vic replied. "You wear it wrapped around you like a..." Damn. And this is where his wittiness fell apart. "Wrappy wrapped thing." He grinned. "Well, maybe if I come here, I can change that. Everyone deserves a little fun every once and a while."
Tommy gave him another look then shrugged slightly. "Better then you have tried. Believe me." He wasn't upset about it, or even challenging. It was just something he excepted.
Vic scoffed. "Scusi?" He tsked. "Are you doubting my powers of awesomeness and fabulous fantasticism?" He shook his head. "Surely you jest, sir."
Now Tommy's look turned a bit...disbelieving, but his voice remained even. "I'll believe it when I see it." With his cigarette almost down to his fingers, he took a last draw off it before squatting down to ground it out on the stone patio. When he stood again, he gave the other a nod. "Which will depend on if you decide to return." He couldn't care less if he saw the green man again, but he was being polite.
"You're so kind." Vic glanced back at school, debating whether or not this would be a good idea. "Guess only time will tell," he said, finally, looking back at Tommy. "It was nice meeting you." Victor did mean that. Even if it was a bit...unusual.
Tommy gave him a polite nod. "Yeah. Me too." Then, taking that as goodbye, he turned to go back inside.
"Oh," Vic turned back before he left, "and for the record? John Donne kicks all kinds of ass. Look him up if you haven't." He grinned. "'The Flea' might be the best poem ever." Vic waved goodbye and made his way back to the city to figure out what to do next. Maybe he'd talk to Mark about all this.
That made Tommy pause and look over his shoulder as the other walked away. He had indeed read John Donne and the said poem, though the fact that other could reference it was impressive. Then he shrugged and went back inside. Even if he saw the other again, it wouldn't matter. Now? He has some relaxing to do in the library.
It was with a small sigh that Tommy breathed in the nicotine from the newly lit cigarette. Classes had been long and tiring today thanks to midterms and papers, then to top it off, and experiment with his powers that he'd been trying to run all week had failed miserably. The cold and the cigarettes were a refreshing change, both calming him down and letting him release the stress of the day. He leaned against the door of the porch and looked out over the lawn, just...relaxing.
This school was insane. It was huge and there lots of kids like him. And it was nothing short of amazing. Victor Borkowski wasn't even sure what he should make of it all, let alone remember half of the things he'd been shown. In fact, it was by sheer luck he'd managed to find the entrance to the school. He took a deep breath and stretched - that had been such a long walk. His eyes drifted to a smoking teen? Student? Person. Victor was never one to be rude, so, he offered him a wave. "Hi," he said.
It was by chance that Tommy glanced over when the other waved at him and he couldn't help his eyes going wide for a moment at the green color of the other's skin. It was still his reaction to visible mutants that had been ingrained in him, but at least the revulsion was gone. He nodded to the other, taking another deep breath off the cigarette before he took it from his lips. "Afternoon."
"Vic," he said and then held out his hand. "Just got the grand tour." He'd registered the wide eyes, he was used to it. At least this guy did not look disgusted. That was a step forward. In his life, you had to get used to that kind of thing.
It would surprise Vic to know just how much a step forward it was. And if he was checking out the school, it probably would come out sooner rather then later. "Tommy." He shook the offered hand with the one not holding the cigarette, his gloved hands standing out against the green. "Are you looking to come live here or just for training?" He asked politely before replacing the cigarette in his mouth.
"I dunno," he said. "To be honest, I'm still sorta figuring it all out. I think it'd be nice to have a place to stay that wasn't tiny and in a shady part of town." He had a soft grin. "I'd really like to understand my powers, too."
Tommy snorted softly in response to that. "Well, this place is good for that."
"How do you like it here?" Vic tilted his head a bit, studying Tommy. Vic wasn't sure what to make of him.
"Considering the options...it's not bad." He couldn't really be honest, in the fact that the mansion was his only options. That if he left the grounds unattended...there was a very good chance he wouldn't return alive. Of course, Tommy kept his expression straight, not hinting at this at all.
That was entirely....not helpful. "Cool," he said. "How long have you been here?" He slipped his hands in his pocket and wondered what his powers were. The gloves were a little...well, suggestive? That or he was a major germphobe. Only time would tell.
Sighing as he realized he was the wrong person for Victor to be having this conversation with, he took another draw off his cigarette before he answered. "Two years." He gave the other a frank look. "I apologize. I've had a rough day, I don't mean to be short." Which would be contrary to what most likely everyone else in the mansion would say about him, but he was genuinely sorry for his mood.
It's cool," he replied. "You've got the broody tortured soul thing going on. I dig." He grinned a bit. "It's sexy in a Buffy sort of way. Try not to overdo it, and you should be fine." He's...mostly cracking a joke at your expense, but he's not offended by your shortness. "Everyone has one of those days." Stupid bad days.
That made Tommy crack a small smile. Broody tortured soul. Yeah, that about summed him up. Though he wasn't sure about the sexy part...Not that he wasn't, but that this kid was calling him such. "Yeah. Still doesn't mean I should take it out on the almost new kid. Believe me, most of the people are friendlier then I am who live here."
Someone was full of himself, now weren't they? "Well, I think if this is you on a bad day," Vic began, "you on a good day couldn't be much worse." See the logic there?
And now Tommy laughed, a slightly bitter tone to it. "Most of the mansion wouldn't agree with you, believe me." He took another breath off his cigarette, still chuckling.
"Well, I'm not most of the mansion," he replied. "You seem like you could be a decent guy, and that makes us five by five in my book." Who knows, maybe that would change if he decided to live here. "How old are you?"
"I thought you wanted to know more about the mansion." He asked with a raised eyebrow, voice level. No point in being friends. the man wouldn't take kindly to a former Friend of Humanity no doubt, not with a mutation like his. The he lifted his chin slightly, not afraid to answer his question anyway. "Nineteen."
"Me too," he said. "Can't be interested in you, too?" Well. Not in that way, anyway. He rolled his eyes a bit. "What's your favorite part about the campus. Student perspective, obviously."
Tommy gave him a look but went on to answer the other's second question. "The library tends to be my favorite spot. Has just about anything you could want, from textbooks to literature and has enough corners you can almost have the illusion of privacy." His favorite couch happened to be by the windows near the classic poetry, a place he intended to frequent as soon as he was done here.
"Favorite section of the library?" Victor asked, tilting his head.
Tommy just looked him in the eye as he said, "Poetry."
"Cool," he replied. "What kind? Milton, Shakespearean Sonnets or are you more into contemporary works?" He grinned. "it's not Sylvia Plath is, it because..." It'd be a tad cliche. But before Tommy could get huffy with this sudden interest in him, Victor asked, "what do you guys do for fun here? When you're over the age of 18?"
"Contemporary." Tommy sneered slightly before chuckling. "That's not poetry it's garbage. You were right the first time, I like the older British masters." It was...odd admitting this to someone so easily, but then Victor didn't know him and once he did, this conversation wouldn't matter. It wasn't like he kept any of this a secret anyway. He read it out loud in the library for Yvette whenever she wanted. "I'm afraid I'm the wrong person to ask that question." He admitted easily, as he inhaled off his cigarette again. "I keep to myself."
"Big and Broody," Vic replied. "You wear it wrapped around you like a..." Damn. And this is where his wittiness fell apart. "Wrappy wrapped thing." He grinned. "Well, maybe if I come here, I can change that. Everyone deserves a little fun every once and a while."
Tommy gave him another look then shrugged slightly. "Better then you have tried. Believe me." He wasn't upset about it, or even challenging. It was just something he excepted.
Vic scoffed. "Scusi?" He tsked. "Are you doubting my powers of awesomeness and fabulous fantasticism?" He shook his head. "Surely you jest, sir."
Now Tommy's look turned a bit...disbelieving, but his voice remained even. "I'll believe it when I see it." With his cigarette almost down to his fingers, he took a last draw off it before squatting down to ground it out on the stone patio. When he stood again, he gave the other a nod. "Which will depend on if you decide to return." He couldn't care less if he saw the green man again, but he was being polite.
"You're so kind." Vic glanced back at school, debating whether or not this would be a good idea. "Guess only time will tell," he said, finally, looking back at Tommy. "It was nice meeting you." Victor did mean that. Even if it was a bit...unusual.
Tommy gave him a polite nod. "Yeah. Me too." Then, taking that as goodbye, he turned to go back inside.
"Oh," Vic turned back before he left, "and for the record? John Donne kicks all kinds of ass. Look him up if you haven't." He grinned. "'The Flea' might be the best poem ever." Vic waved goodbye and made his way back to the city to figure out what to do next. Maybe he'd talk to Mark about all this.
That made Tommy pause and look over his shoulder as the other walked away. He had indeed read John Donne and the said poem, though the fact that other could reference it was impressive. Then he shrugged and went back inside. Even if he saw the other again, it wouldn't matter. Now? He has some relaxing to do in the library.
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