Vignette: Kyle and Maya
Aug. 1st, 2016 11:05 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsDue to Rossi being the wiki Goddess and helping me out with the date, backed to Monday August 1st 2016
Kyle and Maya end up having a civil conversation of sorts and the world does not end. They also find out some information about her that might help her with the rage.
Maya hadn’t complained once, and they’d been walking for long enough that were it going to happen, it would have. She’d have noted to anyone who asked that she’d often hiked with her father when he was around, which admittedly hadn’t been often given his job, this wasn’t her first trip to the great outdoors. She was carrying a hiking pack, taken from Wade’s stash but surprisingly well adjusted for her height. She had suspicions that he’d done some outfitting in view of her interest in camping.
“You know you’re gonna regret not wearing shoes soon, right?” Maya noted, pulling level with Kyle on the trail as she looked up at the taller man. Sure, he’d asked her to leave him alone and she might have under normal circumstances but she was actually feeling happy for once, and she wanted to talk to people. “Also, hi.”
"Uh." Kyle actually blinked a few times. The angry one was speaking to him in a non-angry fashion. That was really. really. weird. "I am super not. I'd regret wearing shoes more." He adjusted his own pack with a shrug, and then reached into a pocket to pull out some ziploc bagged venison jerky. "For a kid who gets pissy about everyone assuming shit, you're assuming a lot about people in the same way."
“How so?” Maya asked, expression curious, her mouth twitching up slightly at the edges as she walked.
Back at the mansion, she might have taken offense, cut him down before he could even think of starting shit with her. Here, well, here it seemed like a waste of perfectly good time that could be spent doing other things.
Frankly, the idea of getting angry at all out here felt profoundly wrong in a way she couldn’t quite explain. In fact, despite the pockets of blankness that might have been people, or might have been something else, everything around her felt overwhelmingly at peace. It wasn’t the peace of tranquillity, but the peace of being perfectly designed for the thing you were doing and doing that thing in concert with all the other things.
Kyle snorted, and tossed some venison jerky into his mouth, chewing a little noisily. He made an obvious point of tearing up another piece with his claws, and then pointed down with the largest piece to his feet. "You went and assumed I was making fun of you, but then you're assuming I even need shoes." His feet were dirty, true, but it didn't seem to bother him much. "Much less if I even want 'em."
It wasn’t something she could deny, she had made a lot of assumptions, especially when she first got to the mansion. Shoes or no shoes, it wasn’t like she much cared what his clothing choices were, but she supposed she’d grant him the fact that it had been a hasty judgement, much as she hated to admit it.
“Do you just not like shoes in general, or is this more a ‘back to nature’ thing you got going?” Maya asked, curious now that he seemed to be talking, not yelling at her. Not that he couldn’t start yelling at her at any moment, she had that effect on people at the mansion. Not that she cared…mostly, not really, but maybe a little bit every now and again. Who needed them anyway? Was he a hipster? She’d never met one but it seemed like a hipster thing to do, no shoes. I mean, sure, mutant feral power that made him look a little like a fox but claws could be trimmed. “You’re not a hipster, are you?”
"I was a hipster before being a hipster was cool." Kyle said, with a snort. "Dude. Look at my feet. Two inch claws. Weird arches. Giant toes. You know what shoes are hella comfy for me? Size sixteen open-toe drag platforms and lets be real here, I would not rock the drag queen thing."
“LBR, hipsters were never cool,” Maya replied with a grin and did look at his feet. They were pretty large, she stopped herself from wondering if the urban myth was true, or was that big hands? “You’d probably have to shave everything if you wanted to be a drag queen.”
"Or be willing to be the hairiest drag queen in Queens." Kyle said. "Which no. No just no. I don't do performance, unless it's on the dance floor." He pulled the zip-loc of jerky back out of his pocket and waved it in Maya's direction. "BBQ venison jerky. Did not make this batch myself but it's not bad."
“You dance?” Maya’s expression lit up with interest, the grin turning a little more obvious as she took a piece of jerky and chewed. “Not as good as my Dad’s but not bad.”
"Not as good as mine either." Kyle said, smirking. "Jerky's better when I run the deer down myself, and yeah. I dance. Swing, salsa, and fast ballroom. Waltzes are boring as shit though, and tangos make me feel stupid." He shrugged. "Kurt? Blue dude, tail? Used to teach dance as an elective here. I got signed up."
“Dad was teaching me how to hunt before everything happened,” Maya replied, feeling a twinge of sadness before she shook it off as completely useless. “I used to do contemporary but I haven’t danced much since I got here. Why does tango make you feel stupid?”
"Just not my thing. I mean." Kyle waved a hand at himself. "I mean, the Tango's for Gomez Addams. Little lithe latin dudes. Six foot plus of blond me, it just doesn't look right. But see like you not realizing I dance is like - this is the kind thing I mean about making assumptions."
“You’re making assumptions yourself by thinking Tango is only for Latinxs. Besides, Tango is as much about how you feel the dance as how you look while doing it,” Maya noted, giving him a semi-long suffering look at what felt like goading but was probably only him feeling a need to get a point across. “Look, I get the point. Assumptions. Bad. Trees. Pretty?”
"Come on, you gotta admit I'd look dumb as eff doing the Tango." Kyle protected. "I mean okay like, not just Latin... ex?, also shit is that new?" He huffed. "I gotta update my notes. I had Latin for the gender neutral. Anyway. Like, Q'd probably look not stupid doing it but I would look dumb. And yeah, assumptions bad. I mean, yeah, keep yourself safe, but jesus, you're deaf and use a hearing aid, you should already know about stealth minority status. Sides, you're the passer, kid." He grinned - and made a point to drop the slang sign for passer.
“If you ever tell QQ I said this, I will deny it and attempt to put Nair in your shower gel, but he would look exceedingly hot doing the Tango,” Maya admitted with a grin. “Latinx is definitely the new term, it’s sort of more inclusive gender neutral wise. As to the rest, I’m mostly sure if anyone tried to play intersectional privilege bingo with me, I’d still win but you’re not wrong, I am a passer on at least two trees. Look, I was an ass hat, no excuses. Also, angry as an angry thing that is entirely all over angry. I don’t think I wanted to like any of you, and so I made it really hard for any of you to like me.”
"So what, like, you can only be in a good mood outside? Is that a thing for you?" Kyle's voice went from grudging conversation to his Professional Educator Person voice - loosely friendly and curious. "Cause this is like, not even who you are on journals. I mean, I'm not messing with you, is this a thing?"
“Maybe?” Maya replied, not having really given it much thought before. She did feel better out here, and while inside the mansion wasn’t horrible, how could such a place be horrible, it wasn’t where she felt comfortable, it wasn’t home. “I always feel better outside, that’s why I spend so much time in the woods. They welcome me.”
"Geez, have you considered like, a waterproof bag for your tablet and journaling from the woods?" Kyle suggested. "Cause look if that's the key to keeping you on an even keel, geez, we can fix up the treehouse, it's not like it's not due for a couple of patches anyway. Throw in a couple of beanbag chairs, replace the wifi repeater thingy, I think the mini fridge is still good, might need to go replace the solar panels though."
“That’d be cool,” Maya replied, somewhat startled that he wanted to help, she hadn’t expected it. “You know, you’re a lot cooler when you’re not yelling at me.”
Kyle snorted. "I'm just as cool, you're just blind to it when you've got your head up your butt." He kept up the assistive signs when his hands didn't impede, and "head into butt" was one of the ones he'd memorized and made sure he could use. "Yo seriously, you can work off your next butthead moment helping me put the treehouse back together. I bet Wade'll be like "yeah, put her to work!"
“Kettle, this is pot calling,” Maya signed but she was grinning as they walked and she nodded along to his suggestion. “Done, and done.”
Kyle and Maya end up having a civil conversation of sorts and the world does not end. They also find out some information about her that might help her with the rage.
Maya hadn’t complained once, and they’d been walking for long enough that were it going to happen, it would have. She’d have noted to anyone who asked that she’d often hiked with her father when he was around, which admittedly hadn’t been often given his job, this wasn’t her first trip to the great outdoors. She was carrying a hiking pack, taken from Wade’s stash but surprisingly well adjusted for her height. She had suspicions that he’d done some outfitting in view of her interest in camping.
“You know you’re gonna regret not wearing shoes soon, right?” Maya noted, pulling level with Kyle on the trail as she looked up at the taller man. Sure, he’d asked her to leave him alone and she might have under normal circumstances but she was actually feeling happy for once, and she wanted to talk to people. “Also, hi.”
"Uh." Kyle actually blinked a few times. The angry one was speaking to him in a non-angry fashion. That was really. really. weird. "I am super not. I'd regret wearing shoes more." He adjusted his own pack with a shrug, and then reached into a pocket to pull out some ziploc bagged venison jerky. "For a kid who gets pissy about everyone assuming shit, you're assuming a lot about people in the same way."
“How so?” Maya asked, expression curious, her mouth twitching up slightly at the edges as she walked.
Back at the mansion, she might have taken offense, cut him down before he could even think of starting shit with her. Here, well, here it seemed like a waste of perfectly good time that could be spent doing other things.
Frankly, the idea of getting angry at all out here felt profoundly wrong in a way she couldn’t quite explain. In fact, despite the pockets of blankness that might have been people, or might have been something else, everything around her felt overwhelmingly at peace. It wasn’t the peace of tranquillity, but the peace of being perfectly designed for the thing you were doing and doing that thing in concert with all the other things.
Kyle snorted, and tossed some venison jerky into his mouth, chewing a little noisily. He made an obvious point of tearing up another piece with his claws, and then pointed down with the largest piece to his feet. "You went and assumed I was making fun of you, but then you're assuming I even need shoes." His feet were dirty, true, but it didn't seem to bother him much. "Much less if I even want 'em."
It wasn’t something she could deny, she had made a lot of assumptions, especially when she first got to the mansion. Shoes or no shoes, it wasn’t like she much cared what his clothing choices were, but she supposed she’d grant him the fact that it had been a hasty judgement, much as she hated to admit it.
“Do you just not like shoes in general, or is this more a ‘back to nature’ thing you got going?” Maya asked, curious now that he seemed to be talking, not yelling at her. Not that he couldn’t start yelling at her at any moment, she had that effect on people at the mansion. Not that she cared…mostly, not really, but maybe a little bit every now and again. Who needed them anyway? Was he a hipster? She’d never met one but it seemed like a hipster thing to do, no shoes. I mean, sure, mutant feral power that made him look a little like a fox but claws could be trimmed. “You’re not a hipster, are you?”
"I was a hipster before being a hipster was cool." Kyle said, with a snort. "Dude. Look at my feet. Two inch claws. Weird arches. Giant toes. You know what shoes are hella comfy for me? Size sixteen open-toe drag platforms and lets be real here, I would not rock the drag queen thing."
“LBR, hipsters were never cool,” Maya replied with a grin and did look at his feet. They were pretty large, she stopped herself from wondering if the urban myth was true, or was that big hands? “You’d probably have to shave everything if you wanted to be a drag queen.”
"Or be willing to be the hairiest drag queen in Queens." Kyle said. "Which no. No just no. I don't do performance, unless it's on the dance floor." He pulled the zip-loc of jerky back out of his pocket and waved it in Maya's direction. "BBQ venison jerky. Did not make this batch myself but it's not bad."
“You dance?” Maya’s expression lit up with interest, the grin turning a little more obvious as she took a piece of jerky and chewed. “Not as good as my Dad’s but not bad.”
"Not as good as mine either." Kyle said, smirking. "Jerky's better when I run the deer down myself, and yeah. I dance. Swing, salsa, and fast ballroom. Waltzes are boring as shit though, and tangos make me feel stupid." He shrugged. "Kurt? Blue dude, tail? Used to teach dance as an elective here. I got signed up."
“Dad was teaching me how to hunt before everything happened,” Maya replied, feeling a twinge of sadness before she shook it off as completely useless. “I used to do contemporary but I haven’t danced much since I got here. Why does tango make you feel stupid?”
"Just not my thing. I mean." Kyle waved a hand at himself. "I mean, the Tango's for Gomez Addams. Little lithe latin dudes. Six foot plus of blond me, it just doesn't look right. But see like you not realizing I dance is like - this is the kind thing I mean about making assumptions."
“You’re making assumptions yourself by thinking Tango is only for Latinxs. Besides, Tango is as much about how you feel the dance as how you look while doing it,” Maya noted, giving him a semi-long suffering look at what felt like goading but was probably only him feeling a need to get a point across. “Look, I get the point. Assumptions. Bad. Trees. Pretty?”
"Come on, you gotta admit I'd look dumb as eff doing the Tango." Kyle protected. "I mean okay like, not just Latin... ex?, also shit is that new?" He huffed. "I gotta update my notes. I had Latin for the gender neutral. Anyway. Like, Q'd probably look not stupid doing it but I would look dumb. And yeah, assumptions bad. I mean, yeah, keep yourself safe, but jesus, you're deaf and use a hearing aid, you should already know about stealth minority status. Sides, you're the passer, kid." He grinned - and made a point to drop the slang sign for passer.
“If you ever tell QQ I said this, I will deny it and attempt to put Nair in your shower gel, but he would look exceedingly hot doing the Tango,” Maya admitted with a grin. “Latinx is definitely the new term, it’s sort of more inclusive gender neutral wise. As to the rest, I’m mostly sure if anyone tried to play intersectional privilege bingo with me, I’d still win but you’re not wrong, I am a passer on at least two trees. Look, I was an ass hat, no excuses. Also, angry as an angry thing that is entirely all over angry. I don’t think I wanted to like any of you, and so I made it really hard for any of you to like me.”
"So what, like, you can only be in a good mood outside? Is that a thing for you?" Kyle's voice went from grudging conversation to his Professional Educator Person voice - loosely friendly and curious. "Cause this is like, not even who you are on journals. I mean, I'm not messing with you, is this a thing?"
“Maybe?” Maya replied, not having really given it much thought before. She did feel better out here, and while inside the mansion wasn’t horrible, how could such a place be horrible, it wasn’t where she felt comfortable, it wasn’t home. “I always feel better outside, that’s why I spend so much time in the woods. They welcome me.”
"Geez, have you considered like, a waterproof bag for your tablet and journaling from the woods?" Kyle suggested. "Cause look if that's the key to keeping you on an even keel, geez, we can fix up the treehouse, it's not like it's not due for a couple of patches anyway. Throw in a couple of beanbag chairs, replace the wifi repeater thingy, I think the mini fridge is still good, might need to go replace the solar panels though."
“That’d be cool,” Maya replied, somewhat startled that he wanted to help, she hadn’t expected it. “You know, you’re a lot cooler when you’re not yelling at me.”
Kyle snorted. "I'm just as cool, you're just blind to it when you've got your head up your butt." He kept up the assistive signs when his hands didn't impede, and "head into butt" was one of the ones he'd memorized and made sure he could use. "Yo seriously, you can work off your next butthead moment helping me put the treehouse back together. I bet Wade'll be like "yeah, put her to work!"
“Kettle, this is pot calling,” Maya signed but she was grinning as they walked and she nodded along to his suggestion. “Done, and done.”
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