2013-01-08 Billiards and Sodapop

A first school day at a new school was always a bit tough. For most of the day, Anole had gotten on well with his new classmates. He was surprisingly well adjusted- the normal teen who happened to be some kind of Lizard- Man. Never had it been an issue in his life to h is community, it showed in the young man's confidence. Now though, it was time to relax. And music was playing near the pool table as Anole walked around the patch of felt playing a game against himself, by the looks of it.
"You like pool?" Scott Summers asks as he makes his way into the room. "I'm Scott. I'm one of the teachers here." He smiles faintly at the young man, offering his hand. "You must be Victor. How are you liking it here so far?"
Anole blinks as suddenly someone was there, an adult type- talking to him. "Yep. I'm Victor Borkowski." giving a smile up towards Scott, "Pleased to meet you, Scott. As for pool, it was something to do. Listen to a little music, have a tea and play some pool. Seemed like a good idea when I had it." Victor grinned up towards the other gentleman, a friendly smile. "Care to join me? We could re-rack it."
"Sounds good, Victor. I'll rack." Scott stands over at the end of the table and begins to collect the balls. After a moment or two he grabs for the triangle. "What classes are you taking this semester? I haven't checked the new roster. I may have you for Physics and-or Social Studies."
"Well, pretty standard courses. Math with Mr. Drake, I've got you for Social Studies, taking Chemistry this semester and Physics next semester, I believe." The young man said, "So, you want to break, Scott, or do I have the pleasure?" he asked as he helped to collect balls that had fallen down in the pockets.
Scott holds his hand out towards the table, "No, by all means. Go ahead. You're the new guy, you get the pleasure. At least at first." He grins widely before asking, in earnest, "Have you met any of the other students yet?"
"I've met a few here or there, not that everyone's happy to be getting back to school from break." Vic said with a little grin as he walked around the table, his stick still in hand to place the cue ball. He leans over, eyes narrowing before the clack of balls announced the start of a new game. It was a good break, spreading the balls well about the far half of the field. Nothing, however, was pocketed. The music Victor listened to changed tracks. SOme sort of electronic, upbeat. It leant itself to the scene- that half smile lighting the young man's face as he bobbed his head. "Want something to drink, Scott? I went to the store in town before curfew. Picked up some soda."
Scott's eyebrows come together in consideration. Finally, he nods. "Sure, some soda would be great. What kind did you get?" Scott listens to the music--although it's not necessarily his style it seems pleasant enough and is certainly upbeat. He leans over the table lining up his shot, a difficult carrom shot that he makes with little hesitation. He begins stalking the table for another shot. "Tell me your story, Victor. Where are ya from?"
"Fairbury, Illinois." Victor answered Scott as he watched the other line up his shot. "My parents thought it might be best if I went somewhere I could be safe. I mean, Fairbury is safe. And we aren't worried about anyone from Fairbury. I mean- I got along pretty okay and normal, I think." he said softly, human brown eyes watching the alignment off the game balls on green felt as they clacked and played. "So. This is a place for Mutants, in a way. A lot of the people here seem a little hurt, Scott. You know, its hard to put into words. But.. here people wear scars not just physical. It really makes me think."
Scott listens to Victor as he lines up his next shot, a tricky shot to the corner which he misses. "Well, if you're someone who believes in fate, then perhaps you were brought here for a reason. If you've had a better relationship with life thus far, maybe others can use that as an example of something positive in theirs. But you're right. There is a lot of scar tissue around here." His own included.
"I've never been anything but normal. Even after my mutation. No one made me feel odd, or out of place. I was just the Borkowski kid. Fairbury is a special place, I guess. Big enough to be interesting to a kid, small enough everyone still judges you on your actions and not on appearances. Lots of former immigrant and minorities. You know, Midwest common." Victor said with a smile. "I miss it, but, its as you say Scott. I can't stay in Fairbury, even though I want to. I owe more to the world."
Scott nods faintly and thinks of his own upbringing--the Air Force Upbringing, the death of his parents, traveling to Omaha in foster care. He too was familuar with Midwest common. At least for a short time. "Well that's something we like to hear about. Helping the world is important. Lots of people have ideas. Few have the courage and the willpower to see them into action."
"I think everyone deserves it, Scott. It should be what everyone hears and says about their childhood. I know that's /really/ idealistic, but I still feel that should be the norm. I'm like in culture shock listening to some stories." he says, "And some things have just been weird." he shook his head, " You know, like Broo. Alien Mutant guy. Honestly, I didn't know that Aliens were around." A shake of his head- Victor lined up his shot, and sunk a ball. He'd not be so lucky the next shot.
"I think we call kind of hope for that world someday, Victor. That's why some of us are here," Scott responds. He chuckles faintly and nods at the announcement by Victor about aliens. "It's a bit overwhelming at first. You seem to be handling it okay, though."
"Well, going all green and scaly was a little weird, so.. I figured I might not be the only one who looked weird, right." Victor explained, "So, what about yourself, Scott? Where are you from?"
"It's kind of a difficult question. I think if someone asked and I answered honestly, it'd be that I'm from here," Scott responded as he leans over a shot. "I was born in Anchorage. My parents died and I was sent to foster care. I ended up in Omaha. Later my powers manifested and the Professor rescued me. I came here about 10 years ago--I was one of the first students."
"Neat that you decided to stick around." Victor said, with a bit of a half smile still on his lips while he sips soda, and listened to the elder mutant speak. "Cool. Did a lot of that first class come back? I noticed a lot of alumni in my little orientation book."
Scott nods, "Yeah...The first group was Jean, myself, Dr. McCoy, Mr. Drake, and Warren Worthington. You might know him from the news. All 5 of us are still related to the school in some way or another." Scott makes a shot and looks for another. "Some have left and then come back. As for me, leaving never interested me."
"How is Mr. Drake?" The young man asked up. "He seemed down when I met him, I mean- he started making jokes and stuff, but I get the feeling he's like.. Missing something." Vic shook his head, "Never mind the new kid." he grinned, scratching the back of his head. "Probably none of my business. Just, you know, back home if someone was like that you could probably expect to see two or three of your neighbors, just to make sure you were okay."
Scott nods, "It's a difficult situation. Everyone deals with stress differently. Knowing Mr. Drake he'll be back to normal in no time. Obviously you don't know him very well yet, but he is quite the character."
Category:Logs
Category:RPLogs