Log: Vance and Layla - Welcome, Vance!

[x-justice.livejournal.com]

Vance is welcomed to the Mansion by none other than Layla.

The door to the yellow cab closed behind Vance, and as it disappeared down the driveway, he turned back to the massive stone mansion before him.  Green duffel bag slung over his shoulder, he walked about halfway to the front doors before stopping and pushing his sunglasses up over his head to stare at his new home, slightly overwhelmed.

Layla was not overwhelmed. Actually, she was pretty underwhelmed. Obviously the doughnut place had it out for her. No pumpkin doughnuts. None! They had it out for her, obviously. Something about not in season. Pfft, like she was gonna buy that. So instead of carrying a box of amazing and delicious pumpkin doughnut goodness she had a bag full of stuff so she could make more pumpkin cookies and strudel. There was never enough strudel in the world. Especially since she totally owed Yoda since he sort of found out about the pumpkin and apple strudel she'd given to Herr Wuschelig and Mr. Guthrie. Only her trek back to the kitchen was unceremoniously interrupted by the human blockade. she <i>could</i> walk around him but that would require more energy and negate her need to poke him. Which she did, directly in his lower back.

Around here that could have been a bad idea of epic proportions but, whatever, only one way to find out. "Dude, voyeurs have their own section on the other side of the fence," she told the stranger. "If they come inside the fence we feed them to the moon-crazed werewolf and the giant purple panther. If they still manage to escape we sick the gremlins on them. Have you ever been chewed on to death by very tiny mouths? It's not pleasant, trust me. There are better ways to go. So you should just like get with the other voyeurs and shit and then you can be all with the street cred and whatever.

Was that a poke in the back?  It took a moment to register the poke, followed by the rapid fire talk about gremlins and other... creatures.  Giant purple panther, what?  Vance turned around to look down at the young lady with groceries in hand, standing directly behind him.  He glanced quickly back up the walkway in case anyone was going to be joining her after dropping her off, and then back down again.  "I hope that the gremlins don't attack people who have been invited here, do they?"  Vance started tentatively, as a hint of a grin teased the corners of his lips.  He then switched the duffel bag to his other hand and offered his right one.  "I'm Vance.  Professor Xavier offered me a place to stay."

She was already grinning by time she had shifted the bag and taken the offered hand, though she looked a bit tired.. "I'm Layla, wayward mutant number seventy-eight. You get to be eighty-three. Unless Bald Guy is taking in wayward non-mutants now. In that case you're totally fucking with the number system here." The easy smile and light tone made it clear she was joking. She hoped. For all she knew there really was an inventory of wayward mutants system.

As Layla began walking again, she nodded toward the mansion to indicate Vance should follow. "So do you always stop and stare at buildings? 'Cause that's sorta creepy, dude. And did your parents name you Vance on purpose? Or did they like fuck up the spelling when your mom was still high on painkillers post-birthing or something? Not that there's like something wrong with your name but it's like 'did they mean Vince?' You know? Hey, you from the city or you from Jersey and trying to hide it?"

"Upstate," Vance responded as he fell into step with the young lady, "Saugerties.  My parents named me Vance after an astronaut, Vance Brand.  He was a pilot in the last Apollo mission in 1975, where the American astronauts first met Russian cosmonauts in space."  He paused for a moment and glanced over at Layla, "I think they had dreams of their son being a real hero.  Maybe even becoming an astronaut someday."  There was a hint of something else hidden underneath his easygoing tone and casual half-smile, easily missed if one weren't paying attention.

Vance's eyes turned back to the mansion as they approached the front doors, "And I don't typically stare.  I guess I wasn't quite sure what to expect when I got here.  I don't think the numbering system has to worry, though."  A pink nimbus of energy suddenly sprung to life surrounding Vance's head, as two tendrils reached out.  The first opened the front door upon approach, and the second slid underneath to lift and carry the weight of Layla's bag of groceries.  His responding grin slightly strained, Vance winked at Layla, "I guess I get to be number eighty-three, then."

First her brow furrowed, then her jaw dropped. "What is with everyone else getting all the cool shit?" She watched the bag balance easily on the pink energy as if it was no big thing at all. She wanted to reach out and poke it but she wasn't sure what would happen if she did. "Will I end up like dragged along if I try to poke the pink? Or will it just ignore me or something? Will it feel like anything if I touch it?"

"It's solid," Vance confirmed as her bag was lifted over so he could take it by the plastic handles.  "You won't get dragged along unless I do something like-- this."  The tendril of pink energy that was holding the grocery bag moved back to Layla, suddenly wrapping around her in a pink bubble.  It wasn't  large bubble, but big enough for her to move freely within, or even touch the sides.  And she could see through it, hopefully preventing any sudden attacks of claustrophobia.

The nimbus surrounding Vance's head suddenly wrapped around his own body as well, and moments later, Layla found herself lifted off the ground, floating into the open front door and into the mansion's foyer with Vance.  He grinned just slightly then, and the bubble retracted, leaving only a flat platform of pink holding her about a foot off the foyer floor; she could easily hop down if she wanted off.

The bubble around her hadn't been exactly stable. Layla kept having to shift her weight to keep her balance. It wasn't unlike skateboarding, though more fluid in a way. Layla imagined it was sort of like air surfing...which was awesome! Even if it totally taxed a bunch of the energy she'd built up sitting on the side of the road earlier.

By the time she had stopped moving Vance was sweating pretty noticeably and there was a trickle of blood coming from one nostril. Layla could feel the platform under her feet swaying, seemingly getting less stable. She assumed it was hard for him to keep it up and hopped down as her eyebrows darted upward. "Dude, are you okay? That was awesome, but you're totally bleeding and I don't want the Bald Guy getting upset that I broke eighty-three, you know?"

As soon as Layla hopped off the pink platform, his whole display vanished, and Vance's feet hit the ground a little more firmly than he'd intended.  After a short stumble, he set his duffel bag on the floor and lifted his hand to his nose, looking at the blood on his fingertips.  "Shit," he said as his brows furrowed.

He glanced over at Layla, frowning slightly.  "Sorry," he apologized immediately after for swearing, without even thinking about it.  His lips pulled into a slightly chagrined smile as he added, "I guess that's one of the reasons I'm here.  I really hate nosebleeds.  And headaches."

"You're sorry for bleeding on yourself?" Layla gave him a funny look. "You wanna come to the kitchen and you can have a super snazzy, high tech blood absorbing cloth we like to call a," she paused for dramatic effect, "paper towel? Eh? Eh? C'mon, you know you're impressed with our mad towel generosity, right? And then I can stuff you with like cookies or some shit until you stop looking like you just like turned around to realize you totally just dropped trou on a granny or something."

Vance grinned and grabbed his duffel from the floor, slinging it over his shoulder again, his other hand staying on his nose to prevent him from getting blood all over the floor, or himself.  "Yeah, sure," he replied, sounding a little muffled and nasal through his hand.  "And then maybe you can point me in a direction I can find out where exactly I'm supposed to be staying until I get settled."

"Gotta talk to the Bald Guy about that," she informed him, taking her bag of groceries from where his pink telekinesis had set it down on the floor. "He has a thing for tea. Dunno why. You can bring him cookies, maybe it'll soften him up. He's super grouchy, you know?" She shot a grin over her shoulder toward Vance as she made her way to the kitchen, obviously joking.