xp_logs | Monet and Miles| A meeting of the M's (Backdated to like 6ish)

Homework was done, dinner eaten, parents spoken with, and nothing good was on TV tonight. That actually left Miles with several options to occupy himself because there were ten million things to do in this mansion. He decided something low-key would appropriate before bed. A little time on the basketball court sounded good. He'd never really been into sports when he was young, but they held more of an appeal now that he could leap across the court in a single bound. So down to the empty gym he went, grabbed a ball from the rack, and dribbled down the court for an easy layup.

Monet St. Croix was quite exhausted. She'd been out all day shopping away her bi weekly allowance from her father. Her super strong arms were laden with bags as she stepped into the mansion. Her heels clacked against the floor as she made her way toward the suite she shared with Roxy, but a presence on the edge of her range stopped her. The thoughts came from below her, but all that Monet could gather from the stream of thoughts was that the person was young, probably around her age. Sufficiently intrigued, the young Aboriginal woman followed the thought trail. She made her way down a flight of stairs before she came to stand outside a pair of large metal doors. A series of thumping noises reached her ears as she did so, and she quickly forced the doors open despite her full arms. She found herself in a gym, and the loud clack of her heels was drowned out by the other occupant of the gym. As Monet had predicted, he was young, and appeared to be bouncing all over the place with incredible speed and precision. The ball bounced past him, out of his grip and Monet, never one to pass up a chance to show off, gently set her bags down before launching herself into the air. She snatched the ball out of the air mid-flight and slowly lowered herself back to the ground. She certainly had the other teen's attention now.

"Slipped up a bit there." She stated plainly before she tossed the ball back to the stranger. "I'm Monet St. Croix." She added, throwing her hair back for good measure. "And I'm willing to bet that playing against me would be a lot more fun. You in?" She asked. Sure, she wasn't dressed for it, but she couldn't help but grin as she recalled Mr. Summers' words about mutant basketball.

This might qualify as the weirdest thing Miles had yet witnessed, and that included his roommate conjuring a sword of ice and even the giant Holodeck in the basement. He caught the ball with both hands and gave her a quizzical look. "Hola. Miles. Um, sure but are you sure? You're not really dressed for a game. Also you're..." Don't say "a girl." Don't say "a girl." Don't say "a girl." "Not a guy?" Well done, he congratulated himself. That was sure to not come back and bite him in the butt.

Monet glanced down at her fabulously fashionable attire. She was dressed in a beautiful dark blue sweater, black skinny jeans, and a pair of dark blue heels. After staring at her shoes for a few moments, she shrugged and muttered "Sorry babies" as she kicked them off.

"It's simply lovely to meet you, Miles. I'm glad that you've noticed my feminine assets. I mean, how could you not?" She asked, punctuating her question with a flip of her glossy, ebony hair. "Still, don't believe for a moment my higher levels of estrogen won't allow me to...how do I put it..." She pondered, tapping her chin with a long, fake fingernail. "...smear you up and down the court." She decided with a wolfish grin and a wicked glint in her eye.

Well, damn. He sure couldn't turn her down now. "Okay, then, Hermosa. You're on. You can even start," he offered oh so generously as he passed the ball to her and made his way to center court to wait for her. There were two ways this could end, he reasoned, and neither of them looked particularly good for him. At least he didn't have an audience. And there weren't any security cameras around, were there?

Monet took the ball and nodded. She brushed her heels to the side with her foot and began to dribble the ball slowly before she took off to Miles' left, brushing past him as she took off down the court. She didn't need her telepathy to tell her that he was right behind her, so she quickly lobbed the ball up toward the net with just the right amount of force. It bounced against the backboard, rattling the structure slightly, before bouncing back to the floor. The Australian didn't seem too worried about it though. She hadn't even begun to use her powers. She was going to save that for the satisfying conclusion to this encounter.

Miles caught the rebound and dribbled back to center, pondering his moves all the while. She was fast, that much was obvious, and had a mean arm but what she didn't have (he hoped) was super-spider blood coursing through her veins. And those skinny jeans just had to be restrictive. Miles was sure he had the advantage.

He made his way quickly down the court, pivoting every few steps to get out of her way and keep her on her toes, until he got to the foul line and took the shot. The ball made a satisfying thunk when it hit the backboard and swish when it went through the basket. "Two-nothing," he said, maybe a little haughtily.

Monet grinned as she caught the ball as it bounced back toward the pair. She began to dribble it and charged forward, pushing up and off of the ground as she did so. She sailed through the air toward the basket, threw the ball downward into the basket and dropped back down to the floor. She didn't think it was quite fair to actually fly during the match, but surely a little flight assisted jumping was more than fair. She kept getting snatches of Miles' thoughts through her flimsy shields, and she had a feeling he'd still be able to keep up. She tossed the ball back toward her opponent, her own grin evident on her face.

"What was that you were saying?" She asked.

Miles's first reaction was indignation. Flying in a basketball game? Not even close to fair. But two could play at that game, he decided. He might not be able to fly, but he could jump high and far, which let him dunk from the three-point line. He hung from the net with one hand, smirking down at his opponent. "I think I was saying, four-to-two."

Monet grinned and grabbed the ball, pushing her way past Miles. It was clear that, like her, he was stronger and tougher than a normal person, so she didn't feel bad when she applied a bit of strength to the shove. She'd let her admittedly weak shields down and, given her limited range, Miles's thoughts were the only ones that joined her own in her head. This allowed her to fake him out and toss the ball up and into the net for two points.

"Please. I've only just begun to play." She replied, her answer punctuated with a flick of her hair.

They'd quickly gone well beyond a typical game. Fine. Mutantball would be more fun, anyway. Miles took the ball and flashily dribbled it between his legs before making his way down the court. She was hot on his tail and he'd lose his chance if he didn't shoot soon. He took a step back so he'd be at the three-point line and leaped straight up into the air to take the shot. His victorious smirk was instantly wiped off his face, though, when Monet appeared right in front of it.

Monet snatched the ball out from mid air, once again using her flying abilities to jump. She landed softly, and made her way down the court and toward Miles. She dribbled as she attempted to get past him, only to forgo the idea entirely and toss the ball with amazing force toward the net.

Miles pushed off the ground with as much force as he could muster and grabbed the ball in midair. Momentum carried him towards the basket, but in an impressive display of flexibility, Miles twisted so he landed on the backboard and then leaped off of that, landing with a tuck-and-roll at the half-court line.

"That all you got, chica?" he asked, although he was grinning playfully and he was a bit out of breath.

Monet dropped all pretense and quickly grabbed the ball, jogged up the court, using her own strength and a bit of hovering to dance past Miles, before she leapt upward and slammed it down with enough force to make the backboard shake violently. She landed on the ground with a grin, before she tossed the ball back to Miles. She was...having fun, strangely. Having fun was not something that Monet was a stranger to, but it was something that she didn't think she'd find here in the States. These people weren't her people, weren't the rich and powerful. But...there was something about just letting loose. Something about getting to show of just HOW perfect she was. It was exhilarating.

"You can't handle what I've got!" She called playfully.

"I'm pretty sure that's traveling," Miles breathlessly protested in good humor. "I gotta get a foul shot for that. Haven't seen you 'round here before. You Gen X, too, or one of the other groups?"

Monet shrugged her elegant shoulders in response.

"You call it cheating, I call it winning." She answered with a grin. "And yes, I am to be a part of Generation X. Mr. Summers assures me that it will be the best place for me to sharpen my control of my abilities. Do you find it...useful? I can only hope so. I can think of nothing more tedious then being forced into a group where you learn nothing. Then again, you seem to have a decent handle on your abilities. I also have to ask about the people. Are they bearable? And the teachers, how about them?" M asked, the questions coming at a rapid fire pace despite the boredom evident in her tone.

"Uh." Miles began ticking off answers with his fingers to keep track. "So far yeah, I guess. Only been doing one-on-one stuff so far but they said there'll be teamwork exercises eventually so we can all get used to each other. We should probably just play ball, though," he said smirking. He learned a whole lot about esta bella loca in just the few minutes they'd known each other. "And the people so far are pretty cool. Friendly, want to do good things. A bunch of people get together every week to watch Dog Cops so they have good taste. And, uh, yeah, the teachers know what they're doing, too. Lots of them have been here for a long time. Like Mister Summers. I think he said he's been here approximately forever."

"Yes, I get that impression as well." Monet answered, mildly amused. Scott did seem like sort of a stiff. A nice stiff, but a stiff. "Dog Cops? I must say that I'm not familiar. I don't watch much television." She continued.

"Ohmygod, you have to. It's literally the best. I think the entire season is on the DVR in the rec room. You should watch it with us some time."

"Perhaps I will, perhaps I will. You'd be lucky to be graced with my presence." Monet offered with a wink as she moved toward the door. She gathered her bags with business like efficiency before she moved toward the door. She twisted her head around and gave Miles a 1000 watt smile. "It was lovely playing with you, Miles, but I'm afraid I'm due for a long bath. Next time, you'd better bring your "a-game" as you Americans say." She stated with a wink before she gracefully left the room.