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xp_logs Maya meets a new arrival at the mansion. Madin's first day doesn't go fantastically, all things considered.
It was late morning before Madin ventured out of the room they'd been given the night before. As impersonal as a hotel room, it had been clear that while no one lived there, there was an expectation that someone might stay for a while - towels in the little ensuite, a handful of travel toiletries that were all unused, sheets and doona folded on the end of the bed.
After spending most of the winter squatting in semi-legal vacant homes in Chicago simply having access to a private bathroom without a queue, with unlimited hot water felt like a luxury, as did a proper bed not a camp mattress. And a phone charger, and TV.
Eventually, though, Madin had gotten dressed and carefully cracked open the door, taking a few cautious steps out into the hallway.
"Good, you're up,"
Maya had made the effort to vocalise as she saw Madin exiting their room, and had even put in her hearing aids before Noon. It wasn't that she minded the hearing world, it was just that it was jarring and she'd rather do without it for as long as she could most days.
She'd been given the task of showing them around and welcoming them to the 'neighborhood'. It wasn't so much a short straw type of task, but more from what she could gather, something of an attempt to get people to socialize outside of their basic core groups. She was pretty sure there was a computer program somewhere that stuck all their names in a hat and just drew out the next available name any time someone new turned up.
Far be it from her to go against the will of chaos theory.
Madin flinched almost imperceptibly and blinked at the young woman. "Have you just been waiting out here or something?" they asked finally. Which, okay, made sense. You didn't just bring a stranger home to your absolutely ridiculous mansion and leave them unsupervised. Of course there was a guard on the door.
There was a pause just this side of awkwardness before Maya attempted what could only be considered a pained smile.
“Don’t exactly know where you’re from but here we have cameras in the hallways to watch people like creepy assholes. I wouldn’t have needed to be outside waiting for you.”
Madin nodded. It made sense. Of all the stupid shit they'd ever done, coming here of all places was pretty high up the list of real fucking stupid shit, hey, blowing up Chicago PD and all notwithstanding.
Fuck it. They smiled and if it looked a little brittle around the corners, well, cameras! In the hallways! "Never seen that kind of thing before in a house but I never really spent time in places like this, either. It's like a hotel." Madin stared around with obvious curiosity. "Anyway! I'm Madin. You've probably already guessed by the accent but I'm from Australia."
“More like a half way house for random weirdos and irrepressible busy bodies,” Maya replied but it wasn’t said with any particular heat, more an amused tone as she gestured for Madin to go ahead of her. “It’s distinct, I’ll give you that. How’d you end up half way across the world and a different hemisphere?”
Madin shrugged. "I don't know how much you know about Australia but they fucking hate mutants there. I got out of mutie jail, ran away overseas and travelled around for a while and eventually I figured, why not go to fucking America? Everyone knows this place has mutant rights and all that."
“Everywhere hates mutants,” Maya noted as she gestured them down the main staircase. “We’ll start on the first floor, give you the short tour. They put you in jail for being a mutant?”
She was on her best behavior, or as much as she could be. It wasn’t that she minded being a part of the welcome wagon, just that her natural inclinations were to let people come to her, or just freeze them out if they turned out to be assholes. Surprising only her, a number of people had turned out to be not assholes lately.
"I don't know what else you'd call a bunch of dongas out in the desert surrounded by razor wire," Madin replied. "It's basically jail."
Visibly changing the subject, they pointed down the hall. "Is that a formal dining room?”
“Sure, and if you think that’s completely over the top you should see the massive ballroom,”
Maya let the topic change, not sure she wanted to know what a ‘dongas’ was. She’d have to Google it later on. She pointed Madin to the left and into the hallway that would lead them to the main kitchen.
“Did you get all the standard tech yet? They normally leave it in your room and then personalize once you’ve settled in. They haven’t started microchipping us yet but I wouldn’t mention the option anywhere near the tech types unless you want to start an argument over privacy vs safety. On the other hand, it’s a great way to waste a few hours if you like that kinda thing.”
"Wait. What the fuck?" Madin stared at Maya. "Are you joking about that?”
“They’d never get anyone to agree to testing, and Jean or Clarice would veto it on medical grounds anyway, even if they could make it from compounds that wouldn’t fuck up anyone’s body.”
The thing was, there were people who probably would jam a tracker in you. Maya said 'sure' like it was a joke but - mansion. Cameras in the halls. And who knew what they'd do if they found out what kind of person Madin really was, so it was only probably a joke. Madin stepped away from the young woman - who was absolutely not a guard - and eyed the kitchen.
"There rules about using the kitchen?”
“Usual share house stuff. Don’t eat stuff that’s labeled for people unless you’ve got a deal with them. If you use the last of something make sure you put a note to replace it on the white board.”
Maya pointed out the large white board that had been installed on one of the walls of the room, currently scrawled with notes to various people and a run down of days and what people were going to make for dinner.
You didn’t have to join in on the regular dinners given they all had room kitchenettes but as cranky as she liked to play it sometimes, eating with the others made her feel less homesick.
“You can make requests as well if you’ve got specific food bought, and we’ve got a bunch of people who deal with stress via baking or feeding people. If there’s a crisis you’re almost guaranteed to get some good soup or stew out of it. Just make sure you clean up any mess you make. Kane hates doing dishes and he’s in change of PT in this place.”
She grinned at Madin, crossing her arms as she leaned back on the large kitchen island.
"But there's no rules about the hours the kitchen is open or anything? It's just, you know. This place is a lot."
“Not really,” Maya said with a brief shrug of her shoulders, she was wearing a muscle t-shirt that emphasized the physique she’d been working on for the past year. It wasn’t anything to write home about yet but she’d get there. If she couldn’t have powers like Molly or Piotr she’d make sure her punches hit the bad guys as hard as humanly possible even so. “Most of the insomniacs around here use their own kitchens but no one is going to shoot you for making brownies at 1am. Maybe don’t listen to Sepultura while you do it though.”
She gave it a moment for that to all sink in before she finally took pity on the new person.
“It’s a lot, a lot. This place has a lot going on, at a lot of levels but the people are good people. They’re not going to let you get hurt, and no one is going to kick you out even if you put colors with whites and turn peoples clothes blue. You’re safe.”
Madin nodded uneasily. "Sure". This place put them off balance in a way that Chicago and squatting hadn't, or, hell. In ways that the last few years hadn't.
There'd been good people in the -- before, too.
It was late morning before Madin ventured out of the room they'd been given the night before. As impersonal as a hotel room, it had been clear that while no one lived there, there was an expectation that someone might stay for a while - towels in the little ensuite, a handful of travel toiletries that were all unused, sheets and doona folded on the end of the bed.
After spending most of the winter squatting in semi-legal vacant homes in Chicago simply having access to a private bathroom without a queue, with unlimited hot water felt like a luxury, as did a proper bed not a camp mattress. And a phone charger, and TV.
Eventually, though, Madin had gotten dressed and carefully cracked open the door, taking a few cautious steps out into the hallway.
"Good, you're up,"
Maya had made the effort to vocalise as she saw Madin exiting their room, and had even put in her hearing aids before Noon. It wasn't that she minded the hearing world, it was just that it was jarring and she'd rather do without it for as long as she could most days.
She'd been given the task of showing them around and welcoming them to the 'neighborhood'. It wasn't so much a short straw type of task, but more from what she could gather, something of an attempt to get people to socialize outside of their basic core groups. She was pretty sure there was a computer program somewhere that stuck all their names in a hat and just drew out the next available name any time someone new turned up.
Far be it from her to go against the will of chaos theory.
Madin flinched almost imperceptibly and blinked at the young woman. "Have you just been waiting out here or something?" they asked finally. Which, okay, made sense. You didn't just bring a stranger home to your absolutely ridiculous mansion and leave them unsupervised. Of course there was a guard on the door.
There was a pause just this side of awkwardness before Maya attempted what could only be considered a pained smile.
“Don’t exactly know where you’re from but here we have cameras in the hallways to watch people like creepy assholes. I wouldn’t have needed to be outside waiting for you.”
Madin nodded. It made sense. Of all the stupid shit they'd ever done, coming here of all places was pretty high up the list of real fucking stupid shit, hey, blowing up Chicago PD and all notwithstanding.
Fuck it. They smiled and if it looked a little brittle around the corners, well, cameras! In the hallways! "Never seen that kind of thing before in a house but I never really spent time in places like this, either. It's like a hotel." Madin stared around with obvious curiosity. "Anyway! I'm Madin. You've probably already guessed by the accent but I'm from Australia."
“More like a half way house for random weirdos and irrepressible busy bodies,” Maya replied but it wasn’t said with any particular heat, more an amused tone as she gestured for Madin to go ahead of her. “It’s distinct, I’ll give you that. How’d you end up half way across the world and a different hemisphere?”
Madin shrugged. "I don't know how much you know about Australia but they fucking hate mutants there. I got out of mutie jail, ran away overseas and travelled around for a while and eventually I figured, why not go to fucking America? Everyone knows this place has mutant rights and all that."
“Everywhere hates mutants,” Maya noted as she gestured them down the main staircase. “We’ll start on the first floor, give you the short tour. They put you in jail for being a mutant?”
She was on her best behavior, or as much as she could be. It wasn’t that she minded being a part of the welcome wagon, just that her natural inclinations were to let people come to her, or just freeze them out if they turned out to be assholes. Surprising only her, a number of people had turned out to be not assholes lately.
"I don't know what else you'd call a bunch of dongas out in the desert surrounded by razor wire," Madin replied. "It's basically jail."
Visibly changing the subject, they pointed down the hall. "Is that a formal dining room?”
“Sure, and if you think that’s completely over the top you should see the massive ballroom,”
Maya let the topic change, not sure she wanted to know what a ‘dongas’ was. She’d have to Google it later on. She pointed Madin to the left and into the hallway that would lead them to the main kitchen.
“Did you get all the standard tech yet? They normally leave it in your room and then personalize once you’ve settled in. They haven’t started microchipping us yet but I wouldn’t mention the option anywhere near the tech types unless you want to start an argument over privacy vs safety. On the other hand, it’s a great way to waste a few hours if you like that kinda thing.”
"Wait. What the fuck?" Madin stared at Maya. "Are you joking about that?”
“They’d never get anyone to agree to testing, and Jean or Clarice would veto it on medical grounds anyway, even if they could make it from compounds that wouldn’t fuck up anyone’s body.”
The thing was, there were people who probably would jam a tracker in you. Maya said 'sure' like it was a joke but - mansion. Cameras in the halls. And who knew what they'd do if they found out what kind of person Madin really was, so it was only probably a joke. Madin stepped away from the young woman - who was absolutely not a guard - and eyed the kitchen.
"There rules about using the kitchen?”
“Usual share house stuff. Don’t eat stuff that’s labeled for people unless you’ve got a deal with them. If you use the last of something make sure you put a note to replace it on the white board.”
Maya pointed out the large white board that had been installed on one of the walls of the room, currently scrawled with notes to various people and a run down of days and what people were going to make for dinner.
You didn’t have to join in on the regular dinners given they all had room kitchenettes but as cranky as she liked to play it sometimes, eating with the others made her feel less homesick.
“You can make requests as well if you’ve got specific food bought, and we’ve got a bunch of people who deal with stress via baking or feeding people. If there’s a crisis you’re almost guaranteed to get some good soup or stew out of it. Just make sure you clean up any mess you make. Kane hates doing dishes and he’s in change of PT in this place.”
She grinned at Madin, crossing her arms as she leaned back on the large kitchen island.
"But there's no rules about the hours the kitchen is open or anything? It's just, you know. This place is a lot."
“Not really,” Maya said with a brief shrug of her shoulders, she was wearing a muscle t-shirt that emphasized the physique she’d been working on for the past year. It wasn’t anything to write home about yet but she’d get there. If she couldn’t have powers like Molly or Piotr she’d make sure her punches hit the bad guys as hard as humanly possible even so. “Most of the insomniacs around here use their own kitchens but no one is going to shoot you for making brownies at 1am. Maybe don’t listen to Sepultura while you do it though.”
She gave it a moment for that to all sink in before she finally took pity on the new person.
“It’s a lot, a lot. This place has a lot going on, at a lot of levels but the people are good people. They’re not going to let you get hurt, and no one is going to kick you out even if you put colors with whites and turn peoples clothes blue. You’re safe.”
Madin nodded uneasily. "Sure". This place put them off balance in a way that Chicago and squatting hadn't, or, hell. In ways that the last few years hadn't.
There'd been good people in the -- before, too.
