xp_logs | Amanda, Sarah - Monday afternoon

Following this thread, Amanda comes across Sarah in the yard and just what is annoying her so much comes to light.

Sarah was stretched out under a tree, a group of bone knives embedded in another tree growing a few feet away from her. She was still boned up from the fight, even though it had been a day ago, armour still covering her left shoulder and just visible on her lower back, below the hem of her shirt. She seemed to be occupied in her own thoughts for the most part, but the truly observant would notice she kept looking up and scanning the yard, and that it seemed she's picked one of the best spots to keep an eye on the yard if she wanted to.

The atmosphere in the house was oppressive, and Manuel had put his iPod on, the usual signal that he wanted some alone time, so Amanda took the hint and went outside for a smoke. Not the back porch, tho' - she didn't feel up to another round of either comforting the traumatised or having someone ask her how she was coping and not taking 'Fine' for an answer. Besides, it was a nice, sunny day, reminding her she'd spent far too much time indoors studying recently. She was wandering aimlessly along, keeping a vague 'ear' open for the link, when she noticed Sarah's handiwork on the tree. Glancing around until she saw the other girl, she said, non-committally: "Heya."

"Hey," she nodded, sending the bone in her hand at the tree. It hit with a satisfying thud, knocking some of the bark off and onto the ground below. "Smoke break?"

"Sanity break. People keep wantin' t' talk t' me about what happened." Amanda nodded at a spot next to Sarah. "Mind if I join you? I've got nicotine."

Sarah nodded, and patted the spot with a boned hand. "Careful," she said with a grin, "the last person to offer me nicotine in exchange for conversation ended up with me as a girlfriend."

Amanda grinned back as she sat down, glad Sarah wasn't wanting to gut her for Certain Things she'd said in the journals. Passing the pack over to Sarah along with her lighter, she leaned back against the tree with a sigh. "Girlfriend, eh? Well, if it'd get yer t' stay..." She caught her slightly whining tone and grimaced. "Sorry. Bad week for people takin' off."

"Seems to be the thing to do lately, huh?" Sarah lit the cigarette in her hand, and passed the cigarettes and lighter back. "I'd stay, but I've got stuff to do, people to hurt." Taking a deep drag, she reached back and pulled another bone from her shoulder, and held it, letting the blood trickle down onto her fingers.

Amanda's grin slipped, and the tension in her shoulders which had started to ease a little came back with a vengeance. "Whatever works for you," she said shortly.

"Oh for fuck's sake..." Sarah muttered, sending smoke out into the air around them. She turned her head, looking at Amanda straight-on, bone in her hand near forgotten. "You want to tell me what's bugging you instead of just trying to burn holes in my fucking forehead with your glare?"

For a second Amanda considered saying 'Nothing' and making her excuses - she was tired, she was stressed, she had an empath in her head who was still getting death echoes from the day before - but for the same reason she decided to stay and have it out, for once and for all. "Fine," she said, taking a deep drag on the lit cigarette in her hand. "I think yer a coward."

Well. That certainly hadn't been what Sarah was expecting, and she arched her eyebrows in a curious _expression. She had to remind herself to let Amanda explain. Both bone and cigarette were forgotten in her hands. "Oh?"

"All this stuff on the journals, 'bout bein' a monster, an' all... You only ever do it when someone says somethin' 'bout what's 'normal', an' you make a big deal of pointin' out that you ain't normal an' never will be. 'S all a front, ain't it?" Amanda squinted a little at Sarah, letting the other girl's aura flare into her vision just enough to confirm her theory. "You don't like what you are, do you? Any more 'n I like bein' addicted to me power."

Sarah stared at her, incredulous. "I am a Morlock, and I wouldn't change that for anything." There was something fierce and dangerous just peeking out in her tone of voice. "Besides," she added sharply, "There's no changing what you are. Only hiding it. Pretending you're something else."

"If that's the case, why d'you have t' try so hard t' justify yerself every time it comes up, then?" Amanda countered. "If yer proud of what you are, then be proud, an' quit with the whiny passive-aggressive shite in yer journal. 'S just beggin' for people t' either tell you yer a freak, or that you aren't as horrible as you tell us." Her eyes hardened. "An' yeah, maybe there ain't any changin' what you are, but that doesn't mean I ain't gunna keep tryin'. If I thought that, I might as well have taken a header off the roof that night, no matter what Ange said."

"I spent all day hearing that my reaction to killing a bunch of fuckers who frankly deserved so much more pain from me was wrong, and psychotic, and certainly not what they're aiming for here at this school." She threw the bone hard at a nearby tree, without even looking up. Another thud. "I didn't need to make the post before people started implying I was a freak." Her voice picked up a sarcastic drawl. "Luckily I also had Callisto there reminding me that I should have just ripped their legs off and beat the Skippies to death with their own limbs."

"How the fuck did you survive if you take everythin' so bloody personally? No-one said anythin' to you about it, least not in the journals where I could see." Amanda finished her cigarette, stubbed it out in the grass angrily. "Sure they had a go at that plonker Shiro, but did you think maybe it was because he put that where Jamie could see it? The next fuckin' day after the whole thing?"

"Maimings. I can't count how many people I've left bleeding in Manhattan alleyways because they pissed me off." She left no question; she was very, very serious. "So because they didn't direct it specifically at me, I'm supposed to pretend I didn't hear it? I've got better things to do than hang out where I've got to pretend to be welcome. It's why I left in the fucking first place."

"There you go again - you ain't listenin' t' what 'm sayin', just what you think I'm sayin'. You didn't see a problem in him sayin' that where Jamie could see? How 'bout the munchkins? Did you say t' them 'Hey, that was fun, let's do it again!'?" Amanda shook another cigarette out, making a face as she realised she was nearly out again. "An' if yer so unwelcome here, why'd you come back? You make it pretty clear you don't believe in the rules, so it can't be 'cause yer interested in gettin' a bit of paper that says you finished high school. Morlocks don't need bits of paper, do they?"

"You know what? No. I don't see a problem with saying that in front of Jamie. And he did say that he'd rather not repeat the kidnapping thing, so I don't see the problem there either. He didn't say, 'Hey Jamie, make another psycho dupe so he can kidnap the boys and we can kill him again," even though everyone reacted like he did..." She took one last drag off her cigarette, and flicked it to the ground by her feet. "Tommy thought it was important. She'd always wanted to be a teacher. I'm here, because at least I can make -one- of them happy. Or something like that."

"An' what about you? What'd make you happy? 'Cause you ain't, not here, not in Boston, neither. I don't need t' cheat an' look at yer aura t' see that." The witch gave her a keen glance, worthy of Pete, almost. "You gunna spend yer life doin' what other people want you to?"

"They took me in. They took me in--and kept me. I'll be happy when I feel like I've done something worthy of being called a Morlock. When I've made things right, and done what I have to do, and made them proud. And I'm not going to do that playing pretty here at Xavier's school for the fucking gifted."

"An' just how're you gunna do that? What would make you feel worthy of bein' a Morlock? 'Cause it seems t' me they didn't exactly agree on things." Amanda scowled.

"But you wouldn't know, because you didn't know them," she said simply. "The Morlocks didn't belong in the upland. They weren't welcome there. That's the one thing we all agreed on. So we minded our own fucking business, and got mowed down at the earliest possible convenience." She pulled another bone from her shoulder, hard, ripping audibly through muscle and skin and fabric. Sending it into the tree again, she looked back up at Amanda. "I'm the one who has to revenge them all. They're my family, and I'm going to make things right."

Amanda nodded. "Yer right, I didn't know 'em. Just what yer've told me. But it don't mean I don't get it, or that I can't. An' revenge is all well an' good - I'm right there with you - but what happens after? Or you expect t' go out in a blaze of bloody glory avengin' yer family?" The word 'family' came out harshly, as if it hurt her to say it.

"I don't fucking -care- what happens afterwards," she snapped, flexing her hands idly as the bone on it spread quickly. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that I get it done."

"Then maybe you should start thinkin' 'bout what happens after, otherwise all yer got is yer revenge an' a bunch of empty tunnels." Exasperated, Amanda stood up, flicking away her last cigarette half-smoked. "But then I s'pose it's easier not thinkin' 'bout what happens next, ain't it? 'Cause if you did, you might have t' actually do somethin' 'bout it. An' running away is so much easier than stayin' put an' showin' 'em they're wrong."

"Revenge and my -home-." She practically growled the words, fingers digging sharply into her own knees as she tried to keep her composure. "And who the fuck said they were -wrong-?"

"Revenge only lasts until the blood dries," Amanda said. "Won't bring yer family back, won't change what happened. Might give yer some peace, for a while, but there's still the rest of yer life t' fill up." She shrugged. "An' yer so convinced you don't deserve anythin' else you won't even think that there might be somethin' else for you than killin' an' revenge. Shinobi, for a start." Her face twisted a little as she said the name - his departure was a sore point. "An' you could stay here an' show the powers that be that they don't know it all, that there are other ways of doin' things than all being happy and nice together, show 'em what you are, instead of fussin' and whinin' an' runnin' away. But 's not like monsters care 'bout anythin' but 'emselves, is it?"

"I'll deal with the rest of my life when it gets here. Right now, I owe it to them-- hell, I owe it to Artie and Leech and myself-- to do something about it. You don't fuck with the Morlocks and walk away breathing." Her expression changed, hurt perhaps? "You think I don't know he deserves better? Somebody who's not going to pull him away from everything he had going here... his only fucking -friends-, to go knock off some jackasses who thought it'd be fun to use mutants for target practice? You think I don't feel bad because he wouldn't stay here with you all?"

"Hard t' tell, when you spend so much time tryin' t' convince us yer just a monster," Amanda said, guilt pricking her at the hurt in Sarah's voice, but her own hurt and anger still stronger. The need to lash out, to release some of the frustration that was building up, was too strong, and it was better words than spells.

"You know, if what I do bugs you so fucking much, then why the hell are you so pissed off at me for leaving? Sounds like you'd enjoy it more." Sarah leaned her head back against the tree again. This was not how she'd wanted to spend her last few days here, arguing with nearly everyone all over again.

"Because I'm sick of it! I'm sick of gettin' t' know an' like people, an' have 'em tell me they'll be there whenever I need 'em, an' them have 'em piss off on me!" The words burst out before Amanda could stop them. "Fuckin' Samson goes on 'bout havin' a safety net of people I can go to if I ain't copin' with things, an' right now that's down t' Pete, who ain't here half the time; Nate, who ain't fuckin' conscious half the time; an' Angelo an' Manuel, both who ain't exactly poster children for copin' with shite, an who can't stand the sight of each other, so most of the time I'm playin' mediator. It wouldn't fuckin' matter except I've got meself this nice little addiction problem, an' every time stuff gets hard, the first thing I wanna do is get meself a fix!" Her anger boiled over, and she turned and punched her fist into another nearby tree, shredding the skin on her knuckles and jamming wood splinters into her hand. "They keep tellin' me it's worth it, that carin's a good thing, but all it does is make me hurt, an' I'm sick to bloody death of it!" The moment passed, and Amanda looked down at her hand. "Fuck."

Sarah watched; if she felt more guilty because of the outburst it was hard to tell, but she did slowly get up and stood there quietly for a minute, silent. Finally she scratched the back of her neck, and rested her hands on her hips. "That's something I would do," she said softly, "just haul off and hit the tree like that. Was it as satisfying as it looked?"

"A bit," Amanda admitted, wincing a little as she picked a few splinters out of the mess. She concentrated, murmuring a few Latin words under her breath, and the wound scabbed over even as the headache hit. "S'pose that's me childish tantrum for the week done. I'll get out of yer face." Her voice, her expression... they were inexpressively weary.

Nodding, just the barest hint of a smile crept onto Sarah's face as she came forward and pulled the younger girl in for a hug, whether she wanted one or not. "You tell anybody I did this, and I'll have to kill you," she said, arms wrapped snugly around Amanda's shoulders.

"Nah, yer'd enjoy it too much," Amanda said, but she leaned into the hug, resting her head on Sarah's shoulder briefly.

Sarah loosened her hold, nudging Amanda gently with one of her horns. "No matter where I go, I'm never going to be somewhere that you can't get ahold of me if you need something. That's not changing. Goes for Shinobi too."

'I emailed you from Mexico and neither of you answered.' Amanda didn't speak the thought. "I'll remember that," she said instead, gently pushing herself away from Sarah. "'M sorry for gettin' stuck in like that. 'S just whenever you say people can't change what they are..." She looked away. "One of us is wrong - I just hope it's you, or I'm really in the shite." She didn't let Sarah answer that, but turned and walked away.