Thalia's Gavotte: Fire
Chapter One: Antimony
The girl's eyes narrowed. "Look, sweetie, I really appreciate all the attention, but I have a train I need to catch, so if you don't mind-"
"What if I do?" he said belligerently.
"What are you, like, four? You challenged me to a chess game, me against that walking pocket protector," she said, indicating the bartender's skinny nephew, "as a means of determining if I would have to pay for all this," here she indicated the remains of a buffalo chicken wing binge, "and I won. I don't see any further need for discussion." She fiddled absently with a black pawn.
"You did something to me!" the kid whined.
"Quite right. I gave you a sound thrashing on the battlefield that is chess. Suck it up; a failure once in a while builds character."
"Jeffrey is a Chessmaster." The large man snarled through gritted teeth. "He's one of the top seventy chess strategists in the country. He doesn't fail-"
"Indeed?" she raised an eyebrow. "Then what just happened?"
"Your singing was distracting me!"
She rolled her grey eyes in irritation. "Real Chessmasters don't get distracted. Really, this argument is making you lose face at a rapid rate." She checked her watch. "And since I wasn't bullshitting about that train, I really must be going." Before the kid could start whining again, she inhaled deeply and started to sing.
"Why do I lie? Is it just to get by? If I give up my lines, Will I die? If fortunes are favoured, Then I am in labour, And I'm tryin' so hard To leave lying behind"
By the time she had finished, the bartender had handed over the sixty bucks American she needed for the train, apologized profusely, and ordered his nephew to hold the door open for her. By the end of the next verse, neither remembered her at all.
********* Camille was waiting for her at the station, reading, "Theories of Bio- Optic Camouflage Mutation." "You're late," she murmured, shifting her baggage so her friend could sit. "Barkeep got shirty," she explained. "And you put the whammy on him, taking all the money in the cash register." Her companion finished. "I did not!" the shorter girl looked offended. "I only took enough for our tickets. I always leave them enough to last till the end of the week." "You're too young to be in a bar, anyway."
"And I wasn't. I was in a pub. There's a difference." Her fellow DH raised an eyebrow. "However subtle it may be." Camille sighed, and returned to her book.
*********
"I still don't see why we can't just do a bunnyhop," the grey-eyed girl muttered, staring out the window at the farmland whooshing past. "One; the smaller the distance, the harder it is to hop. In order to land on the property, we'd need exact coordinates so that we wouldn't land on someone and bash their pretty skull in. Two; Doing so would make anyone who saw us distrust us immediately. Three; if you don't stop talking to thin air, people will stare." Indeed, people were already beginning to look at her talking to what was to their eyes an empty seat. She waved cheerfully, and they turned away quickly, embarrassed. "Ticket, please." She handed it over.
"ID?" She smiled. "Thank you for assuming I'm over 18, but it seems you are mistaken. I recently had to suffer through a 15th birthday party." His expression didn't change. "This line requires all passengers to have identification as proof that they do not pose a threat to anyone on board."
She scowled. "Translation; you don't want any problems with mutants that could cause bad press." She passed him a small card.
Starlight Private Academy of the Arts
Student ID
Student No.: 843221
Name: Musesinger, Fire
Age: 15
Eyes: Grey
Hair: Brown
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 130 lbs.
Extracurricular: Drama Club, Archery and Fencing Sisterhood
He inspected it for a minute, then reluctantly handed it back.
"Musesinger? What is that, German? Austrian?"
She glared. "It's English. Muse. Singer." She leaned back in her seat, and gave him a look that clearly stated that the subject was closed. He grunted, and moved on.
*********
When they finally got to the station, the 5'4" brunette could stand her friend's silence no longer. "Okay, Va-Camille. I think we both need to sit down, and collectively decide how we're going to go about this." Pulling the raven-haired shifter over to a bench, she sat. "Now, this is the movie-verse, so we don't have to worry about any inaccuracies on our part-" "Definitely not," Camille said dryly. "Considering you've seen it eight times." "Six," the brunette corrected absently. "And we know that we're about a week away from X2, right?"
"Correct."
"Two weeks before Logan comes back from Alkali Lake."
"Yeah."
"So what do we do?"
"I have no earthly idea."
Grey Eyes sighed deeply. This was something she did well and often; she scarcely noticed when she did it now.
"Okay, do we pull a 'mystery fangirl' or go directly to Mutant High?"
"Ooh, mystery fangirl!"
"Neat. So, we'll need a few illegal government codes-"
"They're right here in my iBook."
"Camille Georgette Leon, you have a devilish streak longer than the fuzzball's tail."
"He's not fuzzy in this reality though, more's the pity."
"Ah, well. Can't have everything."
The girl's eyes narrowed. "Look, sweetie, I really appreciate all the attention, but I have a train I need to catch, so if you don't mind-"
"What if I do?" he said belligerently.
"What are you, like, four? You challenged me to a chess game, me against that walking pocket protector," she said, indicating the bartender's skinny nephew, "as a means of determining if I would have to pay for all this," here she indicated the remains of a buffalo chicken wing binge, "and I won. I don't see any further need for discussion." She fiddled absently with a black pawn.
"You did something to me!" the kid whined.
"Quite right. I gave you a sound thrashing on the battlefield that is chess. Suck it up; a failure once in a while builds character."
"Jeffrey is a Chessmaster." The large man snarled through gritted teeth. "He's one of the top seventy chess strategists in the country. He doesn't fail-"
"Indeed?" she raised an eyebrow. "Then what just happened?"
"Your singing was distracting me!"
She rolled her grey eyes in irritation. "Real Chessmasters don't get distracted. Really, this argument is making you lose face at a rapid rate." She checked her watch. "And since I wasn't bullshitting about that train, I really must be going." Before the kid could start whining again, she inhaled deeply and started to sing.
"Why do I lie? Is it just to get by? If I give up my lines, Will I die? If fortunes are favoured, Then I am in labour, And I'm tryin' so hard To leave lying behind"
By the time she had finished, the bartender had handed over the sixty bucks American she needed for the train, apologized profusely, and ordered his nephew to hold the door open for her. By the end of the next verse, neither remembered her at all.
********* Camille was waiting for her at the station, reading, "Theories of Bio- Optic Camouflage Mutation." "You're late," she murmured, shifting her baggage so her friend could sit. "Barkeep got shirty," she explained. "And you put the whammy on him, taking all the money in the cash register." Her companion finished. "I did not!" the shorter girl looked offended. "I only took enough for our tickets. I always leave them enough to last till the end of the week." "You're too young to be in a bar, anyway."
"And I wasn't. I was in a pub. There's a difference." Her fellow DH raised an eyebrow. "However subtle it may be." Camille sighed, and returned to her book.
*********
"I still don't see why we can't just do a bunnyhop," the grey-eyed girl muttered, staring out the window at the farmland whooshing past. "One; the smaller the distance, the harder it is to hop. In order to land on the property, we'd need exact coordinates so that we wouldn't land on someone and bash their pretty skull in. Two; Doing so would make anyone who saw us distrust us immediately. Three; if you don't stop talking to thin air, people will stare." Indeed, people were already beginning to look at her talking to what was to their eyes an empty seat. She waved cheerfully, and they turned away quickly, embarrassed. "Ticket, please." She handed it over.
"ID?" She smiled. "Thank you for assuming I'm over 18, but it seems you are mistaken. I recently had to suffer through a 15th birthday party." His expression didn't change. "This line requires all passengers to have identification as proof that they do not pose a threat to anyone on board."
She scowled. "Translation; you don't want any problems with mutants that could cause bad press." She passed him a small card.
Starlight Private Academy of the Arts
Student ID
Student No.: 843221
Name: Musesinger, Fire
Age: 15
Eyes: Grey
Hair: Brown
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 130 lbs.
Extracurricular: Drama Club, Archery and Fencing Sisterhood
He inspected it for a minute, then reluctantly handed it back.
"Musesinger? What is that, German? Austrian?"
She glared. "It's English. Muse. Singer." She leaned back in her seat, and gave him a look that clearly stated that the subject was closed. He grunted, and moved on.
*********
When they finally got to the station, the 5'4" brunette could stand her friend's silence no longer. "Okay, Va-Camille. I think we both need to sit down, and collectively decide how we're going to go about this." Pulling the raven-haired shifter over to a bench, she sat. "Now, this is the movie-verse, so we don't have to worry about any inaccuracies on our part-" "Definitely not," Camille said dryly. "Considering you've seen it eight times." "Six," the brunette corrected absently. "And we know that we're about a week away from X2, right?"
"Correct."
"Two weeks before Logan comes back from Alkali Lake."
"Yeah."
"So what do we do?"
"I have no earthly idea."
Grey Eyes sighed deeply. This was something she did well and often; she scarcely noticed when she did it now.
"Okay, do we pull a 'mystery fangirl' or go directly to Mutant High?"
"Ooh, mystery fangirl!"
"Neat. So, we'll need a few illegal government codes-"
"They're right here in my iBook."
"Camille Georgette Leon, you have a devilish streak longer than the fuzzball's tail."
"He's not fuzzy in this reality though, more's the pity."
"Ah, well. Can't have everything."