In the Art Wing

Bobby walked into the art wing and set down his book bag. Hrm. . . no one was there, which was unusual for after school. He went to his art locker and pulled out his apron and put it on. He rumaged through his backpack and pulled out his CD case, then put his backpack into his locker and closed it. He walked over to the cd player in the corner and flipped through his CDs, finally selecting Jekyll and Hyde, and popped it in.

*In each of us, there are two natures. If this primative duality of man -good and evil - can be housed in two separate. . .*

He went over to the pottery wheel and pulled out a lump of clay and stared at it, not sure what to make. Knowing that no one else was in the room, he started singing, absentmindedly, unaware of the bad notes he'd occasionally hit.

(Monday Morning)

Lance woke up the next day with a migrane like you wouldn't believe. Damn.. I don't remember using my powers.. when did I.. ? Oh yeah. When he and Todd had sex on the couch. Earth moving. Right. But that still didn't explain why his head felt like Mystique had taken a bat to it repeatedly, then done a Mexican Hat Dance on it for good measure.

Groaning, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, searching in the dark for a clear space to put his feet down so he could make his groggy way towards his closet and get ready for school. In his search, his toes encountered something cold that went 'clink.' He frowned. What did he have on his floor that would go 'clink?'

Turning on the lamp beside his bed, he hissed and covered his eyes. Yep, light wasn't helping his migrane at all. Once he'd finally adjusted to said fluorescent light, he looked down.

It was a beer bottle. Next to a couple others. Hence the 'clink.'

Oh yeah.

He'd had one beer last night, and it had helped some. But it wasn't enough; he could still feel the guilt, the depression, gnawing away at the back of his head. He'd gone back to that same convenience store and bought a six pack of the stuff, brought it home, and downed all six. In less than an hour and a half. Lance'd had to pee like hell right after, but he certainly felt better. He was happy for the first time in a long time; all his pains and fears were completely forgotten. All he could think about was how funny his brown-themed room was, and how ironic it was that brown had always been his favorite color.

Shit, did his head hurt. He'd have to see if there was a way to avoid this part of drinking.

He slowly pulled on his clothes and laced up his books, grabbing his backpack full of textbooks he'd forgotten to study, and headed downstairs. Pietro had apparently already left for school, according to the quickly scrawled note and toast he'd thoughtfully left out for Lance as an apology. The two usually talked a little first thing in the morning, or as close to 'talked' as two high school boys could at 6:15am. Shoving a piece of toast in his mouth, he pulled his keys out of his pocket and headed out, tossing his backpack in the back seat before pulling out of the driveway and driving down to Bayville High School.

As per usual, he was one of the first cars in the parking lot. Parking in his usual spot, he turned off the car and reclined a little, yawned, and waited. This was his daily Todd time - they'd tried to find any time in the day where they could just have alone time for the two of them, but this had been the only time they'd been able to come up with. Oh well, Lance shrugged. Better than nothing. They had an entire hour, just to themselves every morning. It was the only part of the day he really looked forward to, and certainly made mornings more bearable.

Lance was worried, though. He was worried what Todd was going to look like when he arrived this morning, worried about what Mystique had done to him. He hadn't called last night, and that'd worried Lance, too.

So Lance sat and worried in his Jeep, leg fidgeting nervously as he waited for Todd to arrive.
  • Current Music
    Marilyn Manson - The KKK Took My Baby Away

Jamie likes people. (Monday after school)

"Bye, guys! See you tomorrow!" Jamie waved happily as he parted ways with his friends. Carefully he made his way to the front of the high school, smiling to himself. It wasn't every seventh grader that got to ride home with the older kids. Jamie was going to miss getting free rides once the junior high was finished with the asbestos cleaning. He was pretty sure that it was supposed to be finished in about a week.. but he could enjoy it while it lasted, right?

Not many people were hanging around outside; mostly students waiting for their rides or simply hanging out because they could. That was, Jamie thought, a good thing. Easier to avoid people. Not that Jamie didn't like people... he just didn't like getting bumped while he was around people. Jamie getting bumped meant Jamie making lots of himself, and that was never a good thing when he was away from home.

Blue eyes scanned the parking lot for the familiar red convertable... Just in time to see it pulling out of the lot and driving off.


Jamie wanted to kick something, but there was nothing around to kick. Instead, he cursed.

"Damn it!"

Oh yeah. That felt good.

He looked around again, and finally spotted an older boy standing next to a green Jeep. A very cool-looking Jeep. And the guy looked nice enough. Jamie made his way over to the Jeep and cleared his throat, attracting the older boy's attention. "Hi! Uhm, my ride left me and I don't know anyone else, but you look like a really nice guy and your Jeep is really really cool, so do you think you might be able to take me home because I don't live very far, just in that big mansion right over there," he pointed in the general direction of the mansion.

He grinned brightly, "Oh yeah! My name is Jamie! Hi!"
  • Current Mood
    bouncy bouncy

(no subject)

Pietro chewed on his lower lip in thought. He was, once again, skipping seventh period. He was hiding out in the nurses office this time, having faked an upset stomach just before class started. He did not want to talk to Lance.

Todd had obviously told Lance about the little shopping incident, and Lance was, understandably, pissed off. Ok, so Pietro had slept with Lance's boyfriend and then banged him around a little. He could see why Lance would be upset.

But Pietro hadn't known that Lance and Todd were exclusive! He'd thought that they were all together still! All of them were free game, and...

Ok, so it wasn't so much about the sex. Pietro was pretty sure of that. He'd told Lance about the sex, and Lance had been upset, but had let it go. Pietro had not told him about slamming Todd's head against a wall. That part.. probably wasn't too ok.

"Ok, Mr. Maximoff, I think you've been in here long enough. Why don't you get on back to class?" Mrs. Black, the nurse, stood over the cot Pietro was laying on and gave him a small smile. At his pout of protest, she patted his legs aside and sat down at the edge of the cot. "Pietro. What's wrong, child? I know you're not sick; you've been in here five times since school started. That's three more than you were in here all last year."

Pietro sat up, shrugging lightly, "Nothing. I just don't like classes much. They're slow and boring." Pietro liked the nurse; she was in her late fifties, and reminded him of a grandmother, with her kind smiles and constant scent of peppermints. She offered him one of the said candies that she always had on her, and he took it, popping it into his mouth with a small smile of thanks.

"You're a good boy, Pietro. If something bad happens, you come talk to me, ok?" She patted his knee fondly, "Go on then, get out of here. Class is over in about ten minutes, yes? Go on home. And don't let me see you in here again until you're sick, hmm?"

Pietro nodded and stood, smiling faintly, "Thanks, Mrs. Black. I'll keep that in mind." he grabbed his bag and sauntered out, eyes scanning the empty hallways. Ok, so I've got ten more minutes before Lance beats the hell outta me for hurting Todd. Nice.

He spent the next nine minutes wandering around the school, peeking into random classrooms and making faces at anyone who happened to look up. Mmm, entertaining. He was not looking forward to talking to Lance. The day had been great so far; he'd had a bit of a fight with St. John, but that had ended in kissing and cuddling and a rather impressive, though small, display of fire.

Pietro blushed faintly at the memory. ...Ok, so maybe Lance was right. Not that Pietro would ever tell him that. He kicked at a locker. Stupid Lance. Stupid Todd for telling Lance.

He made his way to the parking lot, nodding to the security guard as if he was doing absolutely nothing wrong. Nope, nothing wrong here, sir. Just out of class early. Really. he heard the bell ring, and the almost-instant sound of people talking and chattering, all happy to be out of school for the day. Pietro was happy, too. Really.

Pietro wandered past random cars, kicking the side of Scott's as he passed it. Because, well, he could. That was what the bad guys did, right? Kicked cars and stuff? Or was that puppies? Whatever.

Ok. So. There was Lance's Jeep. No Lance yet. Not surprising, as class had just gotten out.

Yep. Jeep.

Pietro tossed his bag into the front seat, then leaned against the hood, waiting. This was going to be... interesting.
  • Current Mood
    guilty guilty

The Bayville Times

House Passes Mutant Screening Measure
By Elinor Rayne Smith

On Friday, September 26, 2003, the House passed a measure that allowes for the screening of mutant genes in job applicants. Employers of many Fortune 500 companies and insurance companies have been pushing for this right since the mutant situation was made public back in early June of this year.

Much like drug testing currently allowed by employers, all persons applying for positions, particularly those in the manufacturing and public service sector, will be required to submit to a blood test at the discretion of their employer. A new testing system, called the MG-342 advanced screening process, allows for the quick identification of an anomaly in an individual's genetic make-up that, according to recent studies, accurately identifies a mutant 98% of the time. Many employers are hailing the new measure, but civil liberty advocates consider it a bad move.

"This is like any other form of discrimination," said a spokesman for the ACLU, who asked not to be identified. "It's an invasion of privacy. Just because a person is a mutant does not mean they can not perform their job just as well as anybody else. As we do not allow for discrimination based on physical disability, nor should we allow for discrimination based on genetic anomaly."

Civil rights advocates and many mutant rights organizations, such as the Mutant Rights League, say that this measure will lead to a "slippery slope" that will continue to erode away at the rights of mutant citizens, encourage continued violence like the Mutant Massacre in San Francisco last July, and increase discrimination.

Employers, however, claim the measure is necessary to protect their workers. "A mutant presence in the workplace creates an increased risk to the safety of other workers within the company," said Marcus Tetch, owner of Airedale Manufacturing and a major proponent of the current legislation. Insurance companies agree, claiming the liability of mutant workers will raise costs and make it difficult for them to provide service to companies that do not test or allow mutants to be employed.

The measure is set for vote in the Senate next Tuesday. The White House, which has been backing the measure since it's inception, is expected to give final approval if it passes in the Senate.

(no subject)

Lance and Todd made their way outside to Lance's Jeep, parting hands only long enough to get into the car before reclaiming hands again. Todd was quiet, again. This time Todd couldn't deflect with "we can't ruin Fred's night," because Freddy's night was over. They were alone, and even though he told Pietro he'd be right back, he knew the boy wouldn't be worried if he took a little longer than planned.

The night had gone well - he and Pietro were getting along well. Better than they had before they'd started dating, in fact. Lance really liked Jeera. She was nice, fun, and didn't suck. She wasn't weak and wussy like most girls, but wasn't a bitch like the few who weren't weak and wussy. And above all, she liked laser tag. She could've had six arms, drooled, and been missing all her front teeth and he'd still love her for liking laser tag.

Now, there was just this little "Todd is really upset and won't tell me why" thing to deal with.

He backed out of the driveway and shifted the Jeep up to third again. "Todd... what's wrong? And don't give me any of that 'I'm tired' bullshit that you tried to feed us earlier; I know better." He cast him a worried look. "You've been quiet and detatched all night. What's up?"
  • Current Mood
    worried worried

(no subject)

Bobby woke up dreading school today, for no apparent reason what so ever. Spending most of the morning was bad enough, but then he had to deal with Pietro during Flower Arranging. Not that that class is queeny enough without the Sonic Tiara throwing his personal flair around the room, but for some reason, Pietro was in unusual form today.

*Joy and rapture. Bitch probably got laid or something, Bobby thought as he attempted to incorporate the textbook's philosophy to the wilting bouquet in front of him. He bit his lip and glared at the disobediant spray and the jealous thoughts of Pietro actually getting any were quickly ousted by thoughts of getting A's on his next test.

The morning passed uneventfully, until Bobby was walking down the hall, going to keyboarding. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and watched as The Flaming Queen grabbed the human flame, and sped down the hall towards the science wing bathroom. His eyes widened, and suddenly, lots of things made sense. . .and didn't. Bobby paused for a moment to think, not sure of what he just saw.

Monday morning (next day), third and fourth period.

The weekend had not been high on St. John's list of happy-days, and Monday wasn't looking particularly good either as the blonde boy stabbed a pen annoyedly into his spiral notebook and scribbled something down about whiskey rebellions and George Washington. What the two had to do with each other, he wasn't quite sure, but ... he was going to write it down because hell if he was going to pay attention to Pietro's continual pokings.

True, the other boy usually prodded him about once every ten minutes or so, but this was getting a bit ridiculous, and St. John wasn't sure if it was because Pietro was just odd, or because he'd been pointedly ignoring the other boy for the last two hours rather than his usual returned smirks and crumpled notes. Pietro was poking him every. Five. Minutes.

And he didn't want to talk to Pietro, thankyouverymuch. If he was ignoring him, he was ignoring him for a reason.

Sulkily, he studied his pen as he busily wrote out something on precedents for strengthening the Federalist government. Fa la fa la fa la ... not listening ... Another quick tap against his back, this time with a pen by the feel of it, and he deliberately forced himself to stay still, every muscle going slack. Not going to listen to him. Not going to, because you're. not. that.

St. John wasn't sure what 'that' was, but he was sure he wasn't it.

He was starting to wish he'd never even looked at the downstairs computer after he'd gotten back last night. It would have been easier simply to come back upstairs and go straight to bed, flipping through new books, or perhaps packing, but ... but no, he'd had to go and look at the computer and check journals, and now his bad weekend had suddenly gotten much worse.

At least he had calculus after this class, he thought, not particularly finding much comfort there. Lunch could be skipped, as it was a waste of time, but ... European History and Chemistry were still there, hovering over his head, and he was certain Pietro would be able to find some way to corner him there, especially given the fact that they sat next to one another.

His stomach twisted sharply, and he stared down at the paper again, not quite sure why he was so upset.

Another poke from Pietro, and he twitched slightly. Please. Let. The. Bell. Ring. Now. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if it didn't, but ... there was going to be something involving fire alarms and lots of screaming. He didn't want to talk to Pietro now, and couldn't the other boy bloody understand that? The fact that he hadn't said a thing to the other boy all day might have been a pretty good clue ...

He wasn't going to talk to Pietro. Nope. And what was the other boy going to do, force him to talk? St. John could keep his mouth shut almost infinitely, and he was just ... going to proceed to do so, because it was a hell of a lot better than the alternative.


He was up and out of his seat quickly at the sound of the bell, bolting for the door and determinedly in the direction of calculus. At least he would have two hours without the other boy's constant attempts to get his attention.

The Bayville Times


McClardy ~ Dukes

Mr. and Mrs. Paul C. McClardy announce
the engagement of their daughter, Jennifer Era,
to Frederick Dukes, the son of James and Nancy
Dukes of Ballinger, Texas.

The bride-elect is a graduate of Bayville High School.
She is a pharmacy assistant at Randy's Drug Store in Bayville.

The prospective groom is a senior at Bayville High School.
He is a construction worker with Simon
Valley Construction in Bayville.

The couple plan to be wed May 23, 2004, at the County
Courthouse in Bayville.

OOC InformationCollapse )

A Day in the Big City

Bobby parked his bike at the train station and walked up to the counter, where he got a ticket to NYC. Ah. The Big Apple. Plenty of action there. Lots of tourists to annoy . . . cute boys in the Village (even if you DID have to deal with the occasional dirty old man) . . . great knockoff shops in Chinatown. He had been tempted to just . . . borrow . . . Logan's bike for the day, but he didn't want to get on Mr. Claws' bad side, again. He also couldn't find the keys to the jeep. Not to mention it was also broad daylight and the cops might notice a 15 year old boy driving into the city.

As the train pulled out of the station, Bobby sighed and stared out the window, looking at Bayville as it rushed by. For a moment, he wished someone else was there. Preferably someone strong. . . with big arms to hold him . . . and firm lips. And maybe eyes that shot out laser beams. You never know. Happens all the time, right? He put in a CD that Matt had burned for him, and pressed play. After a few seconds he gave the CD player a look, bit his lip as he changed CD's. It's like Matt was an entirely other world that was fading away. He found a CD that he hadn't seen in a long time and put it in. Even though it ended up being the Air Force Band playing syphonic music, that he stole from his dad, it fit his mood. He relaxed into the seat.

The train pulled into Grand Central Station, and Bobby ran out. The ceiling was always his favorite thing to see right when he got off the train. After standing in the main hall way for about 5 minutes, looking up, he scuffled off to the subway. He glared at the woman in the booth, even though he knew that it wasn't her fault that the fair had been raised and that you could no longer use tokens. He waited on the platform for the familar breath of stale air that signalled the arrival of the train. He kinda hoped that he could have all day to himself, but at the same time wouldn't have minded seeing a familiar face.

The train sped on into the dark.

Bobby curled up in a chair at the famed coffee joint, and put his cup on the table, so it could cool down. In the mean time, he had a trashy magazine full of ads with gorgeous half naked boys to fawn over. Ah, today was gonna be a good day.