xp_logs | Log: Warren and Maya

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Backdated to 14th April 2017

Maya finally manages to track Warren down and demand a job.

“You owe me a job”

Maya stood before Warren Worthington with a stubborn tilt to her chin, hands resting firmly on hips, and a mulish expression in direct evidence as she glared upward at him.

A small voice had interrupted his donut. Frowning mid-chew, he looked around and found he had absolutely no idea who the voice belonged too. Tiny thing. She looked annoying. Probably lived in the Mansion. He brought the donut back up to his mouth, and shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't even know who you are, therefore we should end this conversation before you get offended. Good bye."

“You’re even more of an idiot then you look like,” Maya replied, giving him a once over, her look of disdain evident. “I didn’t think that was possible. You offered me a job when I mentioned on the journals that I needed one and then completely failed to follow up. You’re going to give me that job now.”

Warren gave Maya a critical look. She really didn't look familiar to him, and he would definitely remember a serious job offer. "If I did offer you a job, the onus is on you, the job seeker, to find me. Not for me to find you. It's called responsibility."

“What does this look like, dumbass?” Maya exclaimed in disgust, waving her hand between him and herself. “I’m not exactly coming to find you for a tea party, am I?”

This angry teenager was the complete opposite of Miles. Warren felt this urge to be as frustrating as possible.

"Tea would be good actually," he said to no one in particular. "And if this is your way of seeking a job --which, by the way, is completely inappropriate considering I'm barefoot and wearing pajamas -- where's your resume? Did you call ahead and make an appointment? Do you make it a point to harass VPs in their home environment? Cause if so, I can see why you're unemployed."

“What resume? I’ve never had a job before, I only turn sixteen this year,” Maya responded with an eye roll. “And you’re the one that offered me a job already. Just because you don’t remember it, doesn’t mean you can go back on it. And if you’re making some, I take two sugars.”

Maya had never actually had tea beyond the stuff that Charles Xavier seemed to feed anyone who came to talk to him; but if Warren was going to be obtuse, then she could give as good as she got.

Ignoring her tea comment, he shook his head. "Then how do you expect me to give you a job if you're that unprepared? I'm sure you have skills that you could transform into something useful." He shook his head and finished his donut in one more bite. "I'm fairly certain I told you to have your people contact mine, mainly because that's a standard line, not that I have any knowledge of our previous conversation." He turned, talking out loud as he walked away. "And little girl, know that a journal conversation is not a binding legal job opportunity."

“I tracked you down, didn’t I?” Maya noted, pausing for a moment before following behind him with a frustrated noise. “And don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you. It’s rude. Also, I’m not a little girl, I’m a teenager and you can’t just go around telling people to talk to your people if you don’t intend anything to come of it. It’s not fair, and you’re being an asshole.”

Warren turned around suddenly, oddly pleased when she bumped into him. "Of course I'm an asshole. It's been bred into me through many generations of 'not giving a fuck' and 'we have too much money to care"." He cocked an eyebrow, and lifted his shoulders, his harness moving along with the movement. "Employment is a two way street. So far, you haven't shown me anything to be impressed with other than the fact that you haven't run away crying."

“Well Sinead O'Rebellion. Shock me, shock me, shock me with that deviant behavior." Maya quoted, not figuring he’d recognize the Empire Records quote. She rubbed at her shoulders to soothe her tense muscles, annoyed that she’d gotten so close and that he’d managed to knock her back. “And I’ve got plenty of impressive, more than your pasty white ass. Least I don’t go around hiding from myself even when I’m at home in a place where nobody cares I’m a mutant.”

Warren had barely any knowledge of current cultural references so Maya's comment went right past him. Opening his mouth to argue back, he shut it quickly when he realized she was right. Whenever he'd been away from the mansion for more than a few weeks, he completely forgot that he could walk around with his wings out. "I'm not hiding," he retorted. "I'm business on the top, party on the bottom. It's a fashion statement. You wouldn't get it. You're poor because you're unemployed."

“So employ me then,” Maya replied, stepping back slightly so she didn’t run the risk of running into him again. “Maybe after I’ve been in the company for a while I’ll understand your terrible rich white man pain.”

"You'll never understand my pain, because it is the pain of privilege." Looking at Maya critically, he sighed. "I really don't hire people. I've attained a level of leadership that means I have peons to do that for me. Go talk to Miles. If he says you can handle a job at WI, then I'll find a position. I'm not about to have my name besmirched by a tiny amazon."

“Really?” Maya asked.

Maya’s entire demeanor changed in the blink of an eye, going from closed and hostile to open and, if not friendly, at least not likely to do him an injury in the next five seconds.

“You’re the best!”

Warren gave her a wary look. This girl thing seemed dangerous. "Right. Well. Go away now. I'm done talking to you."