xp_logs | Angelo and Artie, Monday evening

Good intentions have to count for something, right?

Some skills, you just didn't lose, however long you went without using them. Angelo still knew how to handle a gun or a knife, evade most basic security systems, hotwire a car... and pick a lock.

This explained why he was suddenly standing in Artie's doorway, grinning at him just a touch dangerously. "Time out, kiddo."

Artie had been asleep, curled up in the armchair in his room. There was a lot more space in his and Matt's rooms than there normally was, given neither of them could share an actual room. He woke to a figure silhouetted against the light from the suit's common room. A figure he didn't know.

He reached out with one hand and grabbed the clock radio, hurling it at the figure and then struggling to his feet, ribs nothing but pain.

Angelo caught the clock radio in a net of skin easily, tilting his head at the boy. "No need to go killin' innocent electronics. You forgotten me already?"

Artie blinked, actually awake now. It was just Angelo, no matter what he looked like a moment ago. "you asshole," he said, sticking the text up in the air.

Angelo clicked his tongue, not disagreeing, and put the clock radio down. "So I've been told. Who worked you over?" It was hard to miss, after all.

If Matt wasn't such a jerk, he might have considered hiding the truth. If only because it was a little embarrassing. But he was, so, whatever. "the freaking blind kid."

"Yeah?" He considered this. "Good for him. You were bullyin' a twelve-year-old girl - so like I said, you made a time out not optional."

"i'm pretty sure i have to do things more than once to count as bullying. xavier gives us talks every so often about that a you jerk."

He shrugged, walking forward. "What you said counts as bullyin' in my book, 'specially for no good reason. Now, we're goin' for a long drive, all's you get to decide is if we get there the easy way or the hard way."

"what, is this like some hey it's monday, angelo is a psycho thing? i'm not going anywhere." Artie sat back down. He'd have crossed his arms if moving his chest didn't hurt so much.

"Kid, I've met psychos and I've still got the scars. Don't throw that word around so easy." He strode over to Artie's chair, looking down at him. "You really want me to drag you down there?"

"i told you. i'm not going anywhere. asshole."

"Fine, you chose. And yeah, you are." And with that, as careful as he could be not to hurt Artie's ribs, he picked the boy up unceremoniously and tossed him over his shoulder.

Artie went limp, despite being nearly incoherent with rage. "you fucking asshole." It was a long walk out to the parking garage. He'd get loose and hell, he already knew that X-Men (and ex-X-Men, too, probably) got startled when they saw things out of the corner of their eyes so maybe he could run. Who the hell did Angelo think he was?

"I warned you", was the casual response. "You could have walked. Now, I'm gonna put you down, you're gonna get in the car, and you're gonna remember I can catch you or trip you from ten feet away."

Ten feet. He only had stay at at least ten feet away from this asshole. He could do that. He'd spent the last couple of months dodging junkies and police going in and out of the tunnels. And it was already dark. He could do this. Wade had told him once that distractions were useful. Well, it was time to see if that was true. Artie waited till he was back on the ground and Angelo was unlocking the car before he moved. (26 feet, three inches to the door inside and three feet inside the door was a wood paneled alcove with a gap 16 inches deep behind an ornamental vase. If he could get there, maybe he could hide.)

He wrapped Angelo's head in a layer of darkness before running like hell.

Angelo sighed and turned, regardless of being blind. "Kid, I can hear you running, I know where you went. Come on back and I'll tell you what I'm offering. Don't make me catch you."

Artie stopped at the door and pulled out his speech synthesiser. He didn't drop the blackness over Angelo's head as he typed. "You break into my room. You carry me downstairs, you don't listen to a word I say and you try to shove me in a goddamn car... Give me one single reason why I should listen to you or trust a single thing you say." He hit play before moving into the shadows on the other side of the door and covering himself in them, a sketchy Artie-figure standing on the lawn nearby. It wouldn't hold up to more than a glance but ... he could still run, right? Since today was apparently 'Angelo is a psycho day' and all.

"I just wanted to get you away from the computer first", Angelo said with a shrug. "So here's the deal. We go somewhere we won't be bothered, then the play's yours. You want to talk out what's got you so mad, I'll listen. No judgment, no telling you you're wrong, not a word you don't want to hear. You want to hit me until you feel better instead, you can do that too an' I won't stop you." He was pretty sure he could take anything Artie could throw with fists. "How's that sound?"

"Like I said before, no. Asshole. And next time, ask before you pull this kind of shit." The little robot voice still had no emotion. It was, in some ways, a good thing. Artie turned and walked back inside, tense and waiting for Angelo to spring after him. After all, he'd already proven he was a bastard.

Angelo followed him, but keeping the distance between them. He had something else to say. "Okay, I've said my piece, you can go. But if you change your mind, whether it's talking or hitting you want, call me."

Artie didn't dignify him with an answer.