Icecream Chatter

October 17, 2018:

Ne and Drake rest up and chat over ice cream.

Xavier's Institute

Rec room at Xavier's mansion


NPCs: None.

Mentions: Sage


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Drake Riley has been doing too much, and the other day was a clear indication. He was helping rescue civilians with Spoiler when his energy had started to really feel drained. He hadn't felt that outside of training in a long, long time. And passing out on the way back to the mansion? Clear warning sign. He was going too long without rest, pushing himself too hard. He should've been taking Sage's advice.

Today, Drake didn't go out into the city. He's spent the day doing his studies, catching up on homework, and skipping a workout. He's felt out of sorts, but he's clearly recuperating. He isn't sure he could even move much if he wanted to.

And so, the teen is lying sprawled across the couch of the rec room. A remote is in hand, and he's just turned it onto RAW reruns. Woo, more pro wrestling. Nice to see the world is still turning elsewhere. Helps him not think about the people still trapped out there.

Ne had been recovering. Despite her earlier blowing it off, her leg had been a little worse than she'd cared to admit. Mostly due to position, a cut into a leg muscle tended to make it harder for someone who relied so heavily on evasion and acrobatics. If her morning workout was anything to go by though? She was recovered. It probably wouldn't even scar!

Celebration was in order, so into the Rec room the 'icecream' mutant walks, likely seeking her namesake. Despite the weather, she was still dressed in her skirt and shirt, but her hair was down and she seems to be bobbing her head to some internal tune. Must be what humming looks like for a 'mute'! Still, she pauses as she reaches the fridge, finally noticing Drake's slumped form and tapping on the door. A raised can of soda is held out in offer to the teen. Drink?

Drake Riley lifts his head at the sound of someone else entering, and his face brightens up at the sight of the multi-colored girl. His hand raises, fingers splayed in greeting. "No, no. I'm good. Lemme sit up.." It takes some squirming, but the teen pushes himself to sit up for her. He then pats the cushion beside him. "We can put on whatever you wanna. My mind's kind'a fuzzed."

A lazy dismissive wave of Ne's hand comes at the offer for channel changing. Either she didn't care, or she agreed with the need for distraction from New York.

Forever the sweet tooth, the girl moves to neatly vault the couch and plant herself on the cushion without so much as disturbing the small bowl of icecream she'd made for herself, only the light 'tink' of the spoon suggesting it felt any motion at all. Serving herself a spoonful, she tilts her head to the side questioningly. Was he okay?

Drake Riley retrains his smile on her as he sets aside the remote, then ducks his head guiltily at the look she gives him. "I've been over-working myself. Going too hard. Burnin' the candle at both ends, is the 'technical' term for it, I think. And I've been startin' to pay the price. So I'm doing nothing today." He sinks back into the couch, assuming full sloth position. "Buh. It's driving me crazy, though." His head rolls over to look at her again. "How're you? How's the leg?"

A nod, a smile…and another spoonful of icecream are all taken before she shrugs her shoulders and shifts her weight, lazily resting her legs across his lap and then lifting the previously injured one towards his face. It was partially done to be playful or irritating, sure. But there was also a noticeably smaller bandage then last time she was showing him.

Drake Riley doesn't protest when her legs set across his lap. He kind of expected it, primarily for what she does next. The smaller bandage is noted, and he gives an animated nod. When her leg sets back down, he folds his arms over her shins. "I'm glad you're not.. like.. really hurt or anything. Or got gangrene." He wrinkles his nose.

A nod again, one added to with a grin before she gives a silent approximation of a giggle and gestures to the bite before pointing to herself and then raising her fingers to her lips to mime fangs. As if to make a point, a small 'chibi' hologram of herself appears, albeit with fangs, tiny demon horns and a classic spaded tail. It's a good thing it didn't work like zombies!

"It's not Halloween yet!," Drake notes, patting her shin. "If you wanna do the vampire thing, though, you could totally pull it off. You already wear a corset half the time. Like a, like a Hot Topic model." With a snicker, he changes tracks. "I thought about suggesting we do a Halloween party or something."

A silent little blink, then she grins and makes a swirling motion with her finger. The chibi-Ne changes, now all capes and fangs in classic dracula sense. The small hologram rushes towards him, baring its teeth before it disappears into a puff of mist. The mention of the party however? That earns a nod.

Drake Riley lifts his hands in a lame attempt at warding off the apparition. "Nuuu~," he faux-protests. When it puffs away, he settles again. "I haven't been around to suggest it to anyone, and I'm only guessing on who I'd even mention it to. I'm guessing Jean. But with things so crazy, it seems like.. bad timing?"

The grin fades, shifting to a nod. Bad timing, she can't disagree. Instead, she simply gives a sigh and takes another mouthful of her icecream before offering the bowl towards Drake. Maybe they'd finally have this all resolved by Halloween? One could hope.

Drake Riley looks at the bowl and shakes his head. "S'all yours." He doesn't feel up to icecream. It's a rare thing for him, but he's /that/ worn out. He just wants to vegetate for the remainder of the day. In fact, it's probably medically advisable that he do so.

"So, which one do ya like on there?," he asks, motioning towards the screen. "Watched any since that first time we talked?"

A tilt of her head, she stares at the screen for a moment before biting her bottom lip before shrugging her shoulders. Raising a hand, she mimes a small mask on her face. The lucador-style wrestler at least looked entertaining, and she had a thing for the little guy.

"You mean- oh, Mysterio? Yeah, he's good. I like to think that's how I'd probably do things. All spry, acrobatics, splashes…" Drake shimmies against the couch, attempting to settle into it a bit more. He reclines, and he gently pokes at her leg. "Thanks, by the way.. for not going weird on me.. or hatin' me.."

A nod, a tilt of her head and then she blinks as he speaks again, the spoon in her mouth. Then she shrugs her shoulders, shaking her head and making a little wave of her fingers. In its wake? A small holographic lettering forms the words. <I'm weird enough>. Before she winks, still chipmunk-cheeked with icecream.

Drake Riley watches the twiddle, then the lettering. He exhales a gentle sigh and shakes his head. "Maybe, but it's still a big deal to me. You're like my best friend around here." He lightly pokes at her knee. "If you didn't talk to me anymore, I dunno who I'd geek out to." He chances a smile her way again.

An eyebrow raise, she tilts her head to the side. 'Talk' to him? She just rolls her eyes and then pokes him in the chest with the spoon, likely leaving a little icecream mark as she grins again. Interesting choice of words, but it was still good for the two of them to have a moment like this with all going on.

Drake Riley is icecream'd. He looks down at his shirt with a frown. "Gross." He looks back at her. "And now you have a dirty spoon. You animal." He reaches out to lightly prod the tip of her nose. "Got all my germs on it."

A little silent laugh, she shakes her head yet again before gesturing to herself, then hugging her own shoulders in a semblance of being cold before miming a 'dead' face. Too cold for germs? Maybe! Either way, her bowl was empty at the moment.

Drake Riley blinks at her. No, he didn't catch that one. He withdraws his hand and regards his fingertip. "I'm not /that/ cold! I thought I was kind'a warm!"

A laugh, this one might even have the slightest whisper of an audible giggle before she leans back, inhaling a deep breath and extending a hand like she were miming a blown kiss…only to instead exhale a frosted and lightly glowing breath at Drake.

Drake Riley cringes back from her and her cold breath, expression scrunching at her. "Come on, /Elsa/, you don't gotta be so cold /all/ the time." He tries to bury himself deeper into the cushions of the couch in an effort to bunker down.

A little wink, gives a classic (and almost certainly well-perfected) puppy-eyes 'who me' pout at the other mutant before she finally slides off the couch and starts to walk over to the sink, intending to get rid of the bowl.

Drake Riley moues his lips at her in response to the pout. She does make rather convincing and adorably innocent puppy-eyes. And once she's up, he lifts to his feet as well. After she gets the water going, he runs a finger under the tap and dabs it at his shirt to try to reduce the ice-creamy residue.

Turning back to face Drake as she continues her scrubbing, she finally tilts her head, clearing her throat and…speaks. It's one simple question, but she still manages to get sound from that voice of hers. "Where did you get the suit?"

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