LOG: Monday afternoon, Kitty and Forge in the lounge room

[x-forge.livejournal.com]

Where an attempt at being social and friendly turns into a partially revealing glimpse at why Forge is so down on the world in general. Buzzkill must be his secondary mutation.



Kitty was curled up in one of the big chairs near the
window in the lounge, a small paper back open in her
hands. She'd briefly contemplated getting another few
days ahead in her classes this morning, before
deciding that it was far too lazy a day for that.
Instead, she'd snagged a new book out of the library
and made up a plate of cookies and a mug of cocoa and
curled up for the day. The stereo playing mp3s off her
laptop made things perfect.

Forge walked briskly down the hall, air-drumming along with the
blasting music playing through his headphones. While he'd never
normally have thought it to be his style, the classical music that Ms.
Blaire had been exposing him to was slowly growing on him. Now, if
only it had more shredding guitars and 270bpm drum beats...

Hitting the big crescendo, he practically leaped into the lounge,
wheeling around on one foot. Upon seeing Kitty in the chair, Forge's
brain went one direction while his legs kept moving the other, sending
him catapulting headlong into the sofa. As the last notes of the
symphony faded, he opened his eyes and waved awkwardly at Kitty from
his upside-down position on the couch. "Hi."

The sudden entrance had definitely wrested her
attention away from the book. She grinned at Forge on
the couch and managed to keep her critique of his
impromptu pirouette entirely non-verbal. "Hey," she
said brightly. "What're you up to today?"

"Today," he explained as he righted himself, "today is the world going
back to normal. Mr. Dayspring's classes are redundant and plodding,
P.E. is still designed solely to torment me, I'm liable to save the
day yet again with another brilliant invention that Dr. McCoy's
asking for, and Ramsey's angsting on the journals." He fixed his
collar and attempted to look casual on the couch as he ticked off
points on his fingers. "My mother complains that I don't write her or
call her enough, it's been raining since before breakfast, Kyle's
complaining about all the purple hair Catseye left in his suit when
she changed out of it, and I came up with three new ways to project a
coherent directed radiation stream for open-air spectrophotometry.
How's your day been?"

The grin morphed into a full on giggle. "Sounds like
you got into Clarice's sugar cereal this morning," she
said. "My day's been excellently quiet. There is
definitely something about life at the Mansion which
has you desperately seeking out quiet days every now
and then. And it sounds like your mother and my mother
would get along well. They could form a club."

Forge arched an eyebrow. "Quiet days?" he asked sincerely, "I've got
TOO much free time here. Dr. Bartlett's running analyses in the lab,
so I can't get work done down there, I'm ahead in all my classes
that'll let me get there, and while Mr. Summers is all for me spending
time in the machine shop, I believe his exact words were 'it's a
workshop, not a living area, Forge'," he parroted in a credible
imitation of Scott's deadpan delivery. He sighed and spread his hands.
"Bored, bored, and bored, really."

Kitty almost asked which lab he couldn't get
into, but figured that if he only knew about one of
them then there was probably a good reason someone
hadn't shown him the others. Getting him out to be
social was probably up there on the list, actually.
Instead she said, "What you need is a hobby. Well,
another hobby. And for all that you were cutting quite
a rug yesterday, I doubt you'd want to join my dance classes."

Forge shrugged. "Not really my thing. Just didn't want to look like
the only guy who didn't know how, you know? Not much for the public
embarassment." He managed to look sheepish. "I did, um, good, though?
I mean, you really know how to dance. You're really good. I know I
couldn't keep up."

"You did very well." Kitty nodded. "Don't worry about
that. Everyone starts learning somewhere and sometime.
But if that's not your thing, what is? Besides
engineering, that is."

At that question, Forge looked at Kitty as if she'd grown an extra
head. "What do you mean?" he asked. "That's what I do. I build things.
It's who I am." That much was obvious, he thought. "Jamie makes dupes,
Shiro makes fire, Ramsey makes with the babbling - I build things."

"Yeah, and I walk through walls. And I also dance. And
Jamie also makes jokes. And Shiro also draws. You
know, your mutation doesn't have to define you. It's a
part of you, sure, and a big part, even, but it
doesn't have to be the only thing. So what do you want
to do when you're not building things?"

Forge thought on that a while. "I'm no good at video games. Can't
sing. Still a rank beginner at the whole music thing - although
Manuel's showing me a few tricks with the mixing equipment that I'm
getting the hang of..." He paused for a moment. "Don't cook aside from
using the microwave or the coffee maker, not much for art, sports are
for big muscleheads, I've read darn near every technical manual in
this place they'll let me get my hands on. All the message boards I
usually hit online are stagnant, so really - I guess not much." He
threw up his hands. "The dance was fun and all, but really - just goes
to show that those kind of things just aren't for me, right?"

"Not hardly. Especially not if it was 'fun and all'.
Seriously, just because you don't do something yet is
no reason you can't do it. If you're interested
in any of thoes things, if they're fun for you, you
keep doing them. You do them cause they're fun, and
eventually you do get good at them. Also," she added,
shooing him a look. "You've got to get over the whole
sterotype thing. Sports aren't just for 'big
muscleheads', any more than any one thing is 'just
for' any one group of people. Hell, there are a lot of
sports where being massive is a detriment."

"Most of them require two working legs, though," Forge rapped on his
prosthesis for emphasis, "and I have no shame in admitting my utter
lack of athleticism. Is it a bad thing to be interested in what I'm
good at?" Forge removed his glasses, wiping them on his shirt before
continuing. "Look, I'm not about to pretend I'm something I'm not. I'm
not going to be like Ramsey, playing the role of the big popular guy
everyone loves, but secretly wondering when the hammer's going to
fall. He's scared to death of being ostracized that it just eats away
at him. Me?" Forge shrugged, "I accepted it a long time ago. So why
try and fool myself with hobbies or sports or parties? I know who and
what I am, and what people will see me as."

"So because Doug has self esteem problems, you're
going to accept the bizarre idea that no one here will
like you? That's absurd." Kitty shook her head,
closing her book. "'Cause, seriously, high school is
not the be all end all, the Mansion is not a normal
high school anyway, and people do like Doug and
will continue to do so, whether we see him as a geek,
a nerd, a mutant, or just another guy. And we like
you, when you're willing to let your guard down long
enough to give us a chance. As for be interested in
what you're good at, that's great. That's the point.
But if that's the only thing you're interested in it's
pretty damned limting. You can't grow if you're never
willing to say 'this is worth doing even if I'm not
the best at it', and you'll never become good at
anything else if you don't try."

"And you can't stay the best," Forge countered, "if you're distracting
yourself with pretending to be something else. Doug forgets that," he
accused, standing and tucking his headphones into his pocket. "I
don't. You're right. It's not like the normal world here. You guys
accept me - and I appreciate that, don't get me wrong. But I'm not
about to fool myself into believing the real world's like that. And
believe me, I know from experience, the first thing that happens when
you let your guard down is that someone sneaks a punch in the first
chance they get. That's the real world for you."

"Now if you'll excuse me," he said, nodding politely, "I'm off to find
an open lab. Things to do, and only so much time."

"What a depressing way to look at the world," Kitty
said, sounding sad. "Course, the thing about letting
people in is, they'll be there for you when the world
sucker punches you and they'll help you hit it right
back. And who says we have to pretend to be other
things. You can be a lot of different things at once.
Including the best there is at what you do." She
sighed. "Well, whatever. Good luck with your work."
Ignoring the book in her lap, her view shifted over to
stare out the window.

Comments

[x-cable.livejournal.com]

Mr. Dayspring's classes are redundant and plodding

Grrr.

[x-havok.livejournal.com]

sports are for big muscleheads

Double grr...