xp_logs | Quentin & Xavin, Tuesday afternoon

Quentin comes to berate Xavin for thinking too loudly, but it actually ends up a pleasant conversation about Xavin's abilities.

Xavin was sitting out on one of the patios in a shirt with the sleeves cut off and a pair of really stretchy shorts, sneakers kicked off to one side.

Staring down at their hands, Xavin frowned in concentration and shifted, thick rocklike skin began to spread out from Xavin's hands until they were completely shifted. Now taller and more solid, they leaned forward and gasped for breath. "Ungh."

Still anxious to shed his winter pounds, Quentin had gone out for another run. This time, he had managed a good couple of miles before his body demanded he cease his foolishness. Now he was jogging slowly back to the mansion, stopping every little while to catch his breath and stretch his legs to avert cramps. As Xavin came into his line of sight, so did their loud, jumbled thoughts. Typical of a teenage non-psi. Quentin rolled his eyes.

"You wanna keep it down? Up here?" he clarified, tapping his forehead.

"What?" Xavin could barely blink like this and the sensation of eyelids moving-not-moving and the muted sound of his voice was almost as disconcerting as the feeling that everything touching skin was doing so from a distance, sensations muted by the rocklike texture. It was overwhelming. "I can try?"

Quentin was ready to dismiss them when it dawned on him that he wasn't looking at Xavin's normal brown skin, or even the green they had been stuck in for so long. "Hey, cool. What is it you're doing?"

Xavin stood, running hands over their head. Their ears were gone, swallowed by (it seemed) more of the bricklike armoured skin. “Getting this down on purpose, rather than just bang! Rock dude.” There was a pause and then “I’m really thinking loudly? So you can hear everything…. I’m … aww. Shit.” Don’t think embarrassing thoughts. Don’t think embarrassing thoughts.

The telepath snorted and shook his head. "Not everything, not if I'm not listening and you're not thinking that hard. Like you are now. What sort of embarrassing thoughts would you be thinking?" His tone was almost teasing, if Quentin could actually tease.

The worst thing you could possibly think of in this situation would be Quentin in less than his running gear covered. Xavin banished the mental image and again and again, because apparently that was persistent and shrugged, glad that this shape didn’t permit enough facial expressions to show embarrassment. “Nothing!”

Now Quentin smiled, a look that seemed odd and out of place on his face. "Classic. And if Chuckles had been asking you the same thing, then you wouldn't be able to help yourself from thinking about his quadriplegic ass in a thong." Quentin paused and then shuddered as that terrifying image passed through his own mind. "So, does this whole rock skin thing have any purpose besides just looking really fucking neat?"

Xavin banished the image that evoked. “Thaaaaanks. And yeah – as far as we can tell, I’m stronger and more durable like this. Not totally invulnerable but better than skin but I trade things off for it.” Xavin held out one hand, showing fingers swollen to twice their size and starting to ache, like everything else was. The joints were gone and waggling them showed how little movement was left.

"Does it hurt?" Quentin reached out to touch the mutated digits, but stopped before he touched them, raising an eyebrow at Xavin to wordlessly ask for permission.

Xavin nodded and held them out. "Sort of. It's more... pressure than anything. Imagine you're in spanx, all over."

That brought some interesting images to Quentin's mind. "Sounds sexy." He gently ran a couple fingers along Xavin's finger, palm, up their forearm, and stopped at the crook of the elbow. "Kinda jealous about your mutation, not gonna lie. Being able to just change yourself to suit your whim. People would literally kill for that."

Xavin shivered at the feeling of Quentin's fingers, the sensation muted and lost control of the shift. "It's news to me that I can be anyone I want, though. I got this, green, boy, girl and nnnngh." Even as Xavin spoke, it felt as though a rubber band that had been drawn too tightly was snapping and the rocks vanished, leaving Xavin in their default, androgynous green shape again.

"Shit!" Quentin snapped his hand back, as if afraid of being caught in the sudden shift. No damage done, though, and he let out a breath and relaxed. "Does it hurt when you do that?" he asked, a brief spark of concern flashing on his face before he stamped it down. "When you change."

"Sorry." Xavin looked away from him for a moment and then back, holding out green hands and turning them back and forward. "Going back to this? No. It's like... letting go again. Going the other way? Yeah, that's kinda painful."

Quentin ran fingertips down Xavin's arm again, curious about the texture of skin that was green. It felt like skin. He sighed, mostly at himself. What had he expected, really? "Well, whatever it is you do and your limits or whatever, it's cool as fuck. Green skin. Heh. All's I got is this" — he ran a hand through his pink hair — "and I have to dye this shit."

There were so many answers to that. Be grateful you pass. Or maybe I think you need to do your roots but Xavin settled for “it is, isn’t it?”

It probably was time for a touch up, come to think of it. Quentin smirked. "Well, keep doing what you doing. I need to take a shower." He lifted his shirt to wipe a sheen of sweat from his face, exposing his torso, and then winked at Xavin as he headed back inside. "Come smoke with me some time. A little green of the other kind might do you good."

“I will. Should be fun as long as no-one gets on my case over it.” Xavin flushed at the wink but managed a smile in return. An awkward smile but shit, who was going to notice other than Quentin and fuck. “Yeah, I’d like that,” Xavin muttered, looking away and rubbing the back of their neck awkwardly.