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Effy and Quentin grow weary of their prospects outside of the mansion, and decide their best option is to leave Xavier's.
Quentin sat, a rare crestfallen expression on his face, as he read the letter he'd received from the Dean of his college.
We regret to inform you that, in view of certain activities that are in direct conflict with the integrity and values of this institution...
Eyes narrowing, he crumbled the paper between his hands and threw it at the garbage can across the room.
So, he'd maybe posted a few choice observations in response to articles on the university's online newspaper. So what? The moron writing the initial article had been a braindead, flower child of a flatscan if she honestly believed all the "we should get along with our mutant brethren" crap she'd been espousing, and obviously needed it pointed out to her. Honestly, it had been worse than the bullshit Xavier was always spouting. Mutants were superior - there wasn't any point pretending otherwise.
Though yeah, getting up and proclaiming that in the cafeteria maybe hadn't been such a great plan.
Fuck it. Quentin got up off his bed and started stuffing clothing into a duffel bag, even as he opened up a channel to the one person (other than Betsy, and hell, he'd send her a note once he was gone) who might honestly give a damn that he was leaving.
"Yo. Effy. I'm done with this hypocrital hell hole. One time offer - want to get the hell out of here?" After all, Eff maybe wasn't in his league, but she knew what was up. Besides, odds were good she had more money saved up than he did.
Effy frowned slightly when she first felt Quentin's intrusion into her head, but then she mostly just felt...intrigued. Any plan? Other than 'fuck it'.
"What, fuck it's not enough?" He shared the text of the university's oh-so-proper dismissal letter with her. "Seriously, though, I've got some ideas." A smirk formed, and he shared the mental impression of it with her. Gotta swing by X-Factor headquarters, pick up a few things from my lab, but after that...what can we not do, seriously?" Two Alpha class telepaths with no morals? Hell, he honestly should have thought of this sooner.
Thinking about it, going back to England to do her A levels so she could go to University was...depressing. Now that she could kind of separate out the voices in her head (and yeah, there were some there that she was pretty sure classified her as 'fucking bonkers'), what did she even need this place for? She started throwing some shit into a bag, feeling only a pang of guilt over Becky's most likely reaction to this news. You know by inviting me along, there's a 50/50 shot I'll kill you. Or me.
Huh. Yeah, Becky. Quentin felt a tinge of guilt about that himself, but locked that away and let out a snort. He was just going to miss some of the hero worship, that was all. "Yeah, but I figure if we stick around, there's a 90% chance someone else is going to kill me eventually. Or try to, anyway." He smirked at the thought of anyone trying, then shrugged. "Besides, we can do way better than this. We should be doing way better than this."
Yeah, Effy was pretty sure if she went back to England after graduation, there was a 90% chance of her deciding she was too much for this world, or this world was too much for her, and...well, that was cheery of her. Fuck it, Quentin was right. As much as she loathed to admit it.
No one you'll miss? Or who will miss you?
"Yeeaaah, think about what you just asked. I'm not exactly Mr. Popularity around here." Though seriously, he should've been, if the other students had had more than two braincells to rub together. High schools were the same everywhere, he guessed - full of morons and jocks. Quentin stuffed the last of his clothes into his bag and looked around, trying to decide if there was anything else worth taking, and ignoring the sudden though that he might actually miss the annoying speed kid. Not enough to stick around, though. "You?"
Effy made sure she had a fresh pack of cigs in there, as well as a light, and then dumped the remainder of her clothes in. There, that should do it. Few fuck buddies and drug buddies here or there. They'll get over it. Parents missing me would require them noticing. She rolled her eyes at his high school rant and decided she'd have to get used to his ego if they were really embarking on this endeavour.
Where are we meeting prick?
Huh. Good question. "Out front? I'll call a cab." Stealing a car would be better, but hell, they could do that later, and probably with fewer repercussions. Quentin dug out his phone, wondering if the faculty would bother to trace it if he took it with him, and whether or not he could disable such functionality, and made the call.
Effy agreed that if they didn't want people coming after them, not knicking shit on their way out was probably for the best. Besides, she could most likely convince the cab driver not to charge them with her...charms. Pulling out a fag for the road, she hauled her duffel over her shoulder and walked out into the hallway. Quentin would know she was okay with his, granted limited, plan.
A few minutes later, and Quentin was on his way out as well, a duffel bag and one containing his laptop slung over his shoulder, having left his room in a mess of abandoned textbooks, discarded clothing, and miscellaneous notes that he'd bundled together and hoped someone would forward on to Damon, because fuck, the guy had financed him. "Ready to take on the world, Stonem?" he asked as he reached the foyer.
"One way or another," Effy informed him out loud, a smirk making its way across her face.
"One way or another." Quentin opened the door for her (hey, it was a special occasion, whatever), and gestured for her to precede him out the door. "Taxi's on it's way. Want to do the honors?"
"It would be my pleasure," Effy responded with a smirk, walking outside and squinting in the sunlight to look for the cab. Why not start their misadventure by fucking with some cabbie's head?
"My thoughts exactly." Quentin smirked as he followed her out the door and started down the sidewalk to the gate. Today a cab driver and the front desk staff at a decent hotel. Tomorrow?
Well, the world might be a bit much to take on, Day 2. But he was sure they'd work their way up to it. As a parting gesture, he reached out to what passed for Rankin's mind, and inserted Waka Flocka Flame's "Game On" as a parting gift. After a few hundred times on loop, maybe the guy would get the idea.
"You give such kind parting gifts," Effy jested, pulling out a fag to have on the walk to the cab. When she started to feel the presence of the cab drivers mind, she smirked, taking a drag. Game on, indeed.
"I'm a nice guy. Any requests, while we're still in range?" Because yeeaaah. Now was the time. Just nothing so blatant it'd draw a ton of attention, or so annoying it'd piss off Betsy. He still had hope there. The cab pulled up at the curb, and he carried the bags around to the trunk and started piling them in.
Do what you will with them, Effy responded, sauntering up to the front window of the cab with a smirk. She leant down, making sure her shirt rode down in the process, and cocked an eyebrow at the cabbie.
"Hey--where you folks off to?" The cab driver asked, eyes tracing her body quickly before drifting back up to her face.
This would be too easy. "Oh, very far from here...but you won't mind doing that for us will you? We can't pay with money but..." Effy reached out with her mind, feeling his mind with hers. "I'm sure we can figure out some way to...make it worth your while."
Quentin let out a snort of amusement as he closed the trunk and came over to climb into the back seat. Fuck, but morons were predictable. "Aaaand the mental images that just formed are scarring."
Effy nearly rolled her eyes. Instead, when the cab driver gave her an enthusiastic nod, she gave a sarcastically sugary sweet, "Thanks," before climbing into the back with Quentin. You only wish you thought you had a chance to get into my knickers. Let the man dream big.
Quentin smirked, crossed his arms behind his head and stretched out his legs. "Biggest dream the loser will ever have. Are you going to make him think he did?" Which...yeah, okay. If the guy thought that, they probably wouldn't even have to mess with his head to make him think they'd paid. He wouldn't care.
Effy actually did roll her eyes this time. Day 1 and she was already questioning her sanity for traveling with Quentin. This was going to go well.
Quentin sat, a rare crestfallen expression on his face, as he read the letter he'd received from the Dean of his college.
We regret to inform you that, in view of certain activities that are in direct conflict with the integrity and values of this institution...
Eyes narrowing, he crumbled the paper between his hands and threw it at the garbage can across the room.
So, he'd maybe posted a few choice observations in response to articles on the university's online newspaper. So what? The moron writing the initial article had been a braindead, flower child of a flatscan if she honestly believed all the "we should get along with our mutant brethren" crap she'd been espousing, and obviously needed it pointed out to her. Honestly, it had been worse than the bullshit Xavier was always spouting. Mutants were superior - there wasn't any point pretending otherwise.
Though yeah, getting up and proclaiming that in the cafeteria maybe hadn't been such a great plan.
Fuck it. Quentin got up off his bed and started stuffing clothing into a duffel bag, even as he opened up a channel to the one person (other than Betsy, and hell, he'd send her a note once he was gone) who might honestly give a damn that he was leaving.
"Yo. Effy. I'm done with this hypocrital hell hole. One time offer - want to get the hell out of here?" After all, Eff maybe wasn't in his league, but she knew what was up. Besides, odds were good she had more money saved up than he did.
Effy frowned slightly when she first felt Quentin's intrusion into her head, but then she mostly just felt...intrigued. Any plan? Other than 'fuck it'.
"What, fuck it's not enough?" He shared the text of the university's oh-so-proper dismissal letter with her. "Seriously, though, I've got some ideas." A smirk formed, and he shared the mental impression of it with her. Gotta swing by X-Factor headquarters, pick up a few things from my lab, but after that...what can we not do, seriously?" Two Alpha class telepaths with no morals? Hell, he honestly should have thought of this sooner.
Thinking about it, going back to England to do her A levels so she could go to University was...depressing. Now that she could kind of separate out the voices in her head (and yeah, there were some there that she was pretty sure classified her as 'fucking bonkers'), what did she even need this place for? She started throwing some shit into a bag, feeling only a pang of guilt over Becky's most likely reaction to this news. You know by inviting me along, there's a 50/50 shot I'll kill you. Or me.
Huh. Yeah, Becky. Quentin felt a tinge of guilt about that himself, but locked that away and let out a snort. He was just going to miss some of the hero worship, that was all. "Yeah, but I figure if we stick around, there's a 90% chance someone else is going to kill me eventually. Or try to, anyway." He smirked at the thought of anyone trying, then shrugged. "Besides, we can do way better than this. We should be doing way better than this."
Yeah, Effy was pretty sure if she went back to England after graduation, there was a 90% chance of her deciding she was too much for this world, or this world was too much for her, and...well, that was cheery of her. Fuck it, Quentin was right. As much as she loathed to admit it.
No one you'll miss? Or who will miss you?
"Yeeaaah, think about what you just asked. I'm not exactly Mr. Popularity around here." Though seriously, he should've been, if the other students had had more than two braincells to rub together. High schools were the same everywhere, he guessed - full of morons and jocks. Quentin stuffed the last of his clothes into his bag and looked around, trying to decide if there was anything else worth taking, and ignoring the sudden though that he might actually miss the annoying speed kid. Not enough to stick around, though. "You?"
Effy made sure she had a fresh pack of cigs in there, as well as a light, and then dumped the remainder of her clothes in. There, that should do it. Few fuck buddies and drug buddies here or there. They'll get over it. Parents missing me would require them noticing. She rolled her eyes at his high school rant and decided she'd have to get used to his ego if they were really embarking on this endeavour.
Where are we meeting prick?
Huh. Good question. "Out front? I'll call a cab." Stealing a car would be better, but hell, they could do that later, and probably with fewer repercussions. Quentin dug out his phone, wondering if the faculty would bother to trace it if he took it with him, and whether or not he could disable such functionality, and made the call.
Effy agreed that if they didn't want people coming after them, not knicking shit on their way out was probably for the best. Besides, she could most likely convince the cab driver not to charge them with her...charms. Pulling out a fag for the road, she hauled her duffel over her shoulder and walked out into the hallway. Quentin would know she was okay with his, granted limited, plan.
A few minutes later, and Quentin was on his way out as well, a duffel bag and one containing his laptop slung over his shoulder, having left his room in a mess of abandoned textbooks, discarded clothing, and miscellaneous notes that he'd bundled together and hoped someone would forward on to Damon, because fuck, the guy had financed him. "Ready to take on the world, Stonem?" he asked as he reached the foyer.
"One way or another," Effy informed him out loud, a smirk making its way across her face.
"One way or another." Quentin opened the door for her (hey, it was a special occasion, whatever), and gestured for her to precede him out the door. "Taxi's on it's way. Want to do the honors?"
"It would be my pleasure," Effy responded with a smirk, walking outside and squinting in the sunlight to look for the cab. Why not start their misadventure by fucking with some cabbie's head?
"My thoughts exactly." Quentin smirked as he followed her out the door and started down the sidewalk to the gate. Today a cab driver and the front desk staff at a decent hotel. Tomorrow?
Well, the world might be a bit much to take on, Day 2. But he was sure they'd work their way up to it. As a parting gesture, he reached out to what passed for Rankin's mind, and inserted Waka Flocka Flame's "Game On" as a parting gift. After a few hundred times on loop, maybe the guy would get the idea.
"You give such kind parting gifts," Effy jested, pulling out a fag to have on the walk to the cab. When she started to feel the presence of the cab drivers mind, she smirked, taking a drag. Game on, indeed.
"I'm a nice guy. Any requests, while we're still in range?" Because yeeaaah. Now was the time. Just nothing so blatant it'd draw a ton of attention, or so annoying it'd piss off Betsy. He still had hope there. The cab pulled up at the curb, and he carried the bags around to the trunk and started piling them in.
Do what you will with them, Effy responded, sauntering up to the front window of the cab with a smirk. She leant down, making sure her shirt rode down in the process, and cocked an eyebrow at the cabbie.
"Hey--where you folks off to?" The cab driver asked, eyes tracing her body quickly before drifting back up to her face.
This would be too easy. "Oh, very far from here...but you won't mind doing that for us will you? We can't pay with money but..." Effy reached out with her mind, feeling his mind with hers. "I'm sure we can figure out some way to...make it worth your while."
Quentin let out a snort of amusement as he closed the trunk and came over to climb into the back seat. Fuck, but morons were predictable. "Aaaand the mental images that just formed are scarring."
Effy nearly rolled her eyes. Instead, when the cab driver gave her an enthusiastic nod, she gave a sarcastically sugary sweet, "Thanks," before climbing into the back with Quentin. You only wish you thought you had a chance to get into my knickers. Let the man dream big.
Quentin smirked, crossed his arms behind his head and stretched out his legs. "Biggest dream the loser will ever have. Are you going to make him think he did?" Which...yeah, okay. If the guy thought that, they probably wouldn't even have to mess with his head to make him think they'd paid. He wouldn't care.
Effy actually did roll her eyes this time. Day 1 and she was already questioning her sanity for traveling with Quentin. This was going to go well.