xp_logs | Warren and Roxy

Warren runs into Roxy in the woods and he tries to charm her out of her melancholy in regards to a couple power malfunctions that happen around him.

Despite the fact that would probably be wiser to practice using her powers with adult supervision, Roxy was out in the woods by herself. She was running through dance routines but trying to hone her powers by attempting to hurl diamond shards at certain moments. It wasn't going terribly well. She couldn't control the projectiles at all. She couldn't make herself throw them when she wanted to, and she couldn't make herself aim them when they did fly out of her hands. Frustrated, she finished up her latest routine and let out an annoyed scream as she wiped her brow, breathing heavily.

Sometimes he felt as if he was Alice in Wonderland. Every time he came to the Mansion -- which was a lot more often than he thought -- he was faced with an interesting person.

This time, it was a young woman, doing some sort of diamond dance. It was obvious she was trying hard, but not succeeding. It was only due to his agility that he managed not to get impaled. His shirt couldn't say the same.

"While I agree that you weren't at top form, there's no need to scream. The only one hurt was my shirt, and it's last season's anyways."

Roxy wheeled around, startled. This time diamond shards shot straight at the man who'd appeared out of nowhere.

Warren's eyes widened, and he jumped straight up, grabbing a tree branch. Using his momentum, he swung his legs up and narrowly missed the shards.

Still holding on, he peered down at the young girl. "Is it safe now?"

"Uhh... maybe? I'm sorry," Roxy replied, still sounding frustrated, "I really can't control it. How did you jump like that?"

Letting go, he landed on his feet, and lightly brushed his hands off. He hadn't thought that he'd have to explain himself.

"Something I do," was all he said back. Now that he could see her, he realized who it was. "You're Roxy Washington. A pleasure."

He couldn't bring himself to say her parents' stage names.

"Uhh... sure. Back atcha?" she offered. She didn't know who this guy was, but she was quite used to strangers knowing who she was by now so it's not like it was a big deal. She offered her hand to Agile Shirt Guy.

He gave a smile. He remembered being that age and hating the fact that strangers knew more about him than his own parents.

Taking her hand, he shook it gently. "Warren Worthington. I apologize if that was out of place. I never did enjoy being singled out much when I was growing up."

Roxy shrugged and smiled at him. "It's fine. It happens a lot. Oh! Worthington! I know that name. Big business tycoon, right?" Roxy's world was mostly all about music, but now that he'd said the name she did recognize it from New York society. "Your grandpa and dad are some kind of legacy? So yeah, you probably get it." She shrugged again. "I'm sorry about the diamonds," she added once again. "All of this just happened to me before Christmas, and I have no idea what I'm doing."

Again, he brushed her comment off. "You don't need to apologize. You thought you were alone, and had no reason to think another would wander by. I don't find myself bothered by the cold, which is why I'm out for a walk. "

He put his hands in his pockets and gave her what he hoped was a comforting smile. "Your powers are fascinating. You create the shards out of energy?"

Roxy shook her head. "I think my bone marrow makes them. That's what that Professor guy said, anyway," she shrugged. "How about you? You've got the agile thing, and the cold thing. What's that about? Some kind of rubberized skin or something?"

"Not really. It's a thing I do, I suppose.". He knew he could be honest here, but it was hard breaking years of habits and secrets. "Those pieces are a...part of my powers" he said slowly, choosing the words carefully.

He cocked his head, taking in her wardrobe. "Now that you aren't moving, aren't you going to be cold?"

Man, this guy was evasive. Maybe his powers were something super embarrassing. Like he was part helium or something? "Uhh, I guess?" She hadn't really thought about it, but now that he mentioned it she suddenly started shivering. "So do you live here or just like walking around?" She hoped it was the former, because if anyone could wander onto the grounds, how long would it be before the paparazzi found her?

"A little bit of both." He shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her. "Here. I'll be warm. We can walk back to the mansion together."

Once he saw that she would walk with him, he continued. "I have my own place in the city, but I have recently been acquainted with the Professor. He has encouraged me to become more social with those here so when my schedule permits, I come and visit. At times I sit inside, and others,I venture outside. As I have had a long day of meetings, fresh air was what I was looking for."

Roxy gave him a skeptical look, contemplating whether he was a rapey serial killer, but she decided that with her newfound powers chucking diamonds whenever she got emotional, she could probably protect herself. She picked up her guitar from it's safe place behind a log.and started walking. "That makes you sound kind of creepy," she informed him, still looking skeptical. "You kind of talk like you're a robot. A robot from Downton Abbey."

Warren chuckled. "Proper diction always has it's place. I suppose it is difficult to ignore one's prep school upbringing; however,I assure you, many people enjoy the way I speak."

He wasn't going to elaborate that those people were of the female persuasion.

He furrowed his brows a bit as he pondered her robot comment. "And I don't think I'm a robot. Do I seem like one to you?"

"Well, you're evasive about your powers and you use proper diction. So yeah, you seem kinda like a robot," Roxy answered with a grin. Or maybe he was just old. But she didn't want to say that to him. "No, wait. I take it back." She snapped her fingers in realization. "I think I figured it out. You seem like someone who hasn't spent a lot of time with normal people." That was it. A way to tell him he sounded old without, hopefully, insulting him. "But I guess if that Professor guy has you being more social, you'll get better at talking to normal people, right?"

He gave a laugh despite himself. "And what, per se, are normal people?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure it's people who don't say 'per se'," Roxy retorted, sharing his laugh. "Normal. You know. Using slang, cursing. Untucking your shirt. I bet you couldn't be normal if you tried, could you?" she challenged.

Another laugh escaped him. "I think once I begin to feel at ease, you'll see another side of me. For now, you'll simply have to trust me when I say I can let loose.". Warren gave a sly grin. "The tabloids love to present me as a shameless womanizer who cares only about himself."

A pause. "Although that might be true actually."

Roxy wrinkled her nose. "Tabloids never print the truth," she muttered, kicking at a rock as they walked. "Vultures. Leeches. And other crappy, evil things that get fat on other people's hard work and destroy everything they come across."

He gave her an amused smile. "That may very well be true, but the fact remains they exist. Why let them ruin your life when all they get are glimpses? No one's life is perfect, it's just that most people have the luxury of anonymity."

Warren shrugged. "It is what it is. I don't bother worrying about them. Makes my life easier."

"That's what everyone says," Roxy retorted in a sulky voice, rolling her eyes when she thought he wasn't looking. She knew he was right- that everyone who said that was right- but that didn't make her feel any better about the fact that the paparazzi were the reason she'd had to leave her old life and come here. "Or they like to give me the 'you brought this on yourself when you wanted to be rich and famous so no one feels bad for you' line. That's a gem. Like being the kid of famous people was bringing it on myself." She kicked another rock. "At least it's fun to think that they're all stalking European boarding schools right now. And hopefully next week Miley will throw a cheeseburger out a car window or Kanye will sponsor a line of sport sandals and they'll forget all about me for a while."

"And then you'll do something which wasn't important to you, but somehow becomes important to everyone else. Like drinking a Pepsi when you are being sponsored for Coke." He gave another shrug, and a grin. "I won't bother you with all the adages you've clearly heard before. But isn't it better to accept it than to work yourself up about it?"

He stared away, in a pensive thought. "For instance, if you know you are going to be followed to a certain event, then do what is necessary to get them off your tail. Kiss someone. Spill a drink on yourself. Be unbelievably witty with the hostess. And then, once they've gotten their picture or their story, be gracious and walk out. They won't follow you anymore, and you can then debauch yourself on a yacht with no one to see." He tossed her a dimpled smile. "See? Foolproof."

Roxy's eyes widened. "That is maybe the worst idea I've ever heard in my entire freaking life!" Was this guy seriously nuts? "Why would you want to give them things to print? You'd just be fueling the fire. Of course they'll keep following you, because you gave them a reason! Besides, I don't want to... debauch myself on a yacht! I just want to be left alone," she sulked.

Warren was completely unperturbed by her outburst. "It's a delicate balance, I'll admit, but the benefits do outweigh the consequences." he tried to remember what it was like at her age, but he had to admit, he was hardly tabloid fodder in his youth.

"This seems like a nice place to be alone," he said, motioning to the Mansion. "In the short time I've been visiting, I've not found it too overwhelming."

"Yeah, it's pretty boring," Roxy shrugged, though she didn't mean it as a complaint. "I keep telling people, I keep expecting it to be really crazy around here. With, like, lots of peoples' powers messing things up for everybody. But it seems like I'm the only one having trouble. So that kinda sucks. But I guess that's something, that the only crazy is my own, right?"

Warren didn't answer right away. From what he'd seen of the Mansion, true, there weren't any blatant power problems, but he was sure there had to be issues. He remembered trying to learn how to use his own. He'd definitely been bruised and scraped up before he mastered his. "Everyone's crazy is their own," he pointed out. "What matters is how you deal with it. I can't imagine a single person not having troubles with their powers. It's just that some are more internal than others." He thought about it some. "I thought I was dying when my ....powers... manifested. And I had no one to talk to about it. It seems you're in the best place for training."

"I guess," Roxy shrugged again. "How come you didn't come here when your powers manifested?" she asked him curiously. "Hasn't this place been around, like, forever?"

"So I've been told.". And he was back to being evasive and vague, only because he didn't quite know how to answer her question. "For me, it was an endeavour best attempted alone. I'm not so fortunate to have the ability to create something out of nothing, for lack of a better word so it wasn't necessary to learn how to control something powerful."

Frowning, Roxy began once again to contemplate what his mutation might be. "Curiouser and curiouser," she mumbled, turning to stare at him. In doing so, however, she tripped over a tree root and stumbled. Diamonds flew in every direction. "Crap! Sorry!"

With ease, he managed to sidestep the diamonds, although once again, his shirt was an unwilling participant as well as the skin beneath. A red tinged scratch came through the fabric of his shirt, and he shook his head. "Blood rarely gets out," he said idly, lifting the hem of his shirt. It was only a scratch, nothing too serious and he said as much. With a wink and smile, he said, "Perhaps it'll leave a scar. I've been told that women appreciate that aesthetic."

"Ohmigawd, ohmigawd!" Roxy's eyes widened in horror as she stared at the blood. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry!"

Warren shook his head, still smiling. The cut had already stopped bleeding, and it didn't bother him at all. "I believe this probably won't be the first time you make such an impression on me, Roxy, but I assure you, I don't mind. Now, if it had gone near my face..." He shook his head. "That's my backup plan if this business thing doesn't work. I'm sure I could be a very successful model. So as long as we keep all injuries below the neck, I think I can forgive you."

"Thanks," Roxy mumbled. "I think. Look, I think I'm just gonna walk by myself the rest of the way and go hang out in my room," she told Warren. "I don't wanna be rude or whatever, but I guess I should be by myself for a while." She didn't want to keep injuring him accidentally.

He gave her a concerned look. "Are you okay? Accidents happen, and I'm not injured really. Besides, this gives me an excuse to buy a new wardrobe, and I'm comfortable enough in my sexuality to say that this very much pleases me. I might even buy a salmon coloured shirt to replace this one."

The girl shrugged, clearly not okay. She wasn't used to not being good at something. Well, except school. But she didn't care about school. She wasn't used to not being good at something she wanted to be good at so, so badly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Disappointed in myself, but I'll get better at it," she added, though her tone was somewhat uncertain, as if she was trying to convince herself of that fact. "And that's good about the wardrobe. Salmon's cool." She gave him an indulgent smile.

Warren gave a nod. "I should probably get back to the city anyways. Work waits for no man.". He gave her a little bow. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Washington. Feel free to keep the jacket." He started to walk away before he changed his mind.

"And by the way, I have wings." He tossed her a cheeky grin and kept on walking to his car.