om_main | Eileen and John, backdated to Oct 9

Eileen is somehow talked into attending the Halloween party--and wearing a costume, even! John is... well, he's John, but it still works.

It only took a quick glance around the lunch room for John to decide precisely where to head. He made a beeline for the solitary blonde in the corner, plopped down his tray full of mac n cheese (it was some gourmet shit, too!), mixed veg, and chicken fingers right across from her, and sat down. "Hello, hello, football guru-ji. how are you this fine afternoon? Enjoying the institutional food?"

It really wasn't so bad, to be honest; better than his mum's cooking, for sure.

Eileen grunted something that could have as easily been a welcome as a sign of displeasure. She stirred her fork restlessly through the pile of rice and curry on her plate, only rarely pausing to actually take a bite. "Well, if it isn't my favorite nude model," she said finally, giving him a wry look. "Surprised you can find time to eat, with your roommate all hot to undress you and put you in pensive poses." Shoveling a mouthful past her lips, she added, "And yeah, the dining ain't bad. Beats the hell out of the garbage I was eating before."

Which wasn't as much a colorful metaphor as a person might think, since she'd sometimes had no other option than to eat actual garbage. But whatever. Everybody had a sob story, and she wasn't in any hurry to start spilling hers just yet.

"Same," John said brightly, after swallowing a mouthful of chicken. Then he giggled. "And yeah, about those pictures--I was never gonna use the last two, by the bye. I was just trolling Anders. Bastard is simultaneously terrified of and fascinated by half-naked men. Bit of an easy target, but also hard to resist."

She actually barked an honest-to-god laugh at that. Maybe Johnny wasn't quite as off-his-nut as he seemed. Or maybe he was, but still a clever bastard. Either way, Eileen couldn't disapprove. "That's weirdly reassuring," she said. "Even if the first two weren't that much better." Without really noticing, she began tucking into her curry with far greater gusto than she'd shown a moment ago. "And hell, easy targets are the most fun, sometimes." Simon came to mind, of course, but that hadn't exactly ended on a great note. Eileen shoved the thought aside to avoid souring her mood again.

"Next time, let me in on the trolling beforehand. It's not like I need more reasons to think you're completely fucking bonkers, y'know."

"Oh I reckon I am," he admitted after swallowing a mouthful of veg and mac. "At least, most people seem to think so. But I'd rather be bonkers than boring. Or worse, bored."

He grinned. "He is a good photographer though, I'll give him that."

Well, she was with him on that first point, she supposed. Boring--normal, mundane, whatever you wanted to call it--was definitely something they should should have no part of. Not when they had the power to make fire-breathing dragons out of actual fire, or were their very own portable EMP-generator. Maybe John wasn't so crazy after all. Like hell she was going to say that, though.

So instead, she addressed the second point. "Guy's got a little talent, maybe," she conceded, a bit grudgingly. "But some damn abnormal taste."

"One man's bonkers roommate is another man's fascinating half-naked photograph." John giggled. "I should've brought costumes, but I'm still a bit light in the closet. Had to order out for Halloween."

Eileen wrinkled her nose at his unintentional reminder that her own closet was also pretty empty--and everything in it a lousy fit, threadbare to the point of ratty, or both. Since there wasn't a whole lot of point dwelling on the shit she couldn't change just by hoping really, really hard, she said, "Aw, sounds rough. What did you decide to go as, then? Shakespeare? Dean Koontz? That chick who crapped out the Twilight franchise?"

John sighed, but mostly at his own past being obsessed with the crap that was the Twilight franchise. It was a dark period in his past--and anyhow, his own fanfiction (Bella/Alice, obviously) had been much better than the real thing. Most Twilight fanfiction was. obviously.

Then, once that thought had purged itself, he suddenly smiled brightly. "A fireman. Of course. Ha-HA!"

Somehow, she managed not to facepalm. She could not, however, hold back an utterly flat, "As a writer, I would have thought you'd be against irony-abuse. It's good to know you'll always be able to surprise me in awful, brain-bending ways." Another bite of curry disappeared, and she chewed ferociously. "Honestly, the only way this could be worse is if you decided to go as Pyrotechnics Mishap Michael Jackson."

"I can't believe I didn't think of that." John looked stricken, paused with a forkful of mac halfway to his mouth. He shoved it in and then brightened again. "So what's your great idea for a costume, then?"

The question was pretty innocuous on its own, but it still caused Eileen's frown to intensify. She had only been able to think of one that would be easy and workable with her powers, but like hell was she going to say it. Much less wear it. "Halloween's stupid," she grunted sourly. "Screw it, and screw the party, too." She'd rather just be left the fuck alone, anyway.

"Halloween's a great holiday--you get to be whatever you want all night." John's face fell all over again. "At least try it; I heard the last party was epic."

Eileen had heard as much, too, and her reluctant curiosity--even interest--wasn't doing much to improve her disposition. "Don't need to be anything else," she grumbled. "I'm fine just being my usual awesome self."

"Then come as your usual awesome self," John said with an odd degree of urgency. "Or come as some alternate universe version of yourself, even! Steampunk Eileen or Sci-Fi Eileen or Zombie Apocalypse Eileen."

Her lips pursed, and she looked up from her plate to give John a hard, scrutinizing look. "What do you care? Why would it matter to you whether I go to some party or not?"

"Well, what's the point of going to a party if your friends aren't there?" John asked, looking at her like he was afraid she'd just lost her mind completely. "I suppose I'll meet new people there but the old people are fun."

Mouth twisting into a grimace, Eileen was about to ask him where he'd gotten the idea they were friends. Sure, they hung out sometimes, and she didn't find him as unbearable as she did some of the other kids at the Institute. And, fine, maybe he did sometimes manage to make her laugh or otherwise distract her from the thorny pessimism with which she'd chosen to armor herself. But friends? Really?

Huh. Maybe they were. Near enough, anyway. Near as she wanted to be.

"I wanted to be something that could fly," she told him at last, though every word came as though it were being forced out of her under torture. Anyway, John had to know by now how much she liked ignoring the pull of gravity. "But the only thing I could think of was a witch. And like hell I'm going dressed as that." The kind of comments it would provoke would just piss her off.

"No," John said seriously. "Anyhow, that's encroaching on Wanda Maximoff's territory, as resident witch. We can think of something better--you've got the finest imagination in the school right here, remember?" He pointed to his own temple.

This time, the compulsion to facepalm was irresistible. "Oh, god ..."

The serious moment fled just like that and John was back to cackling. "Right, things that can fly. Angels and demons, obvious--though with Worthington here I'd go with demon just because it feels more original. Various types of birds and insects--you'd make a mean preying mantis."

"You're about to see just how mean," she warned him, though she exhaled a quiet laugh. "No bugs, Johnny, for crap's sake. At least pretend to be aware I'm a girl and not into disgusting, segmented, compound eye'd things."

"Preying mantises are quite lovely," John protested, grinning (she called him Johnny again!). "But all right, girls are lovelier, I take your meaning. What about something fae--some kind of elemental creature?" Fire fae!

Eileen's face screwed up. "I have no idea what that is, 'fae'. Is that like a fairy or a pixie--like Tinkerbell or the weird girl with bad hair from Legend?" And if so, why hadn't he just said that? But that was John's brain for you, she supposed. Connected to reality on its own bizarre terms.

"Fae is an umbrella category for certain types of magical creature--not just fairies, thank you very much," John said primly, then took another bite as punctuation. "I've never seen Legend, but possibly. They do tend to have bad hair. Lots of them fly.

"There are also banshees, harpies, things like that."

"Banshees and harpies have the same kind of unflattering connotations as witches," Eileen pointed out, though she was grinning. Who would have thought that, of all the shit she regularly talked to John, it would be her ignorance of fairies that would get his back up? Much as it ever was, anyhow. "But they do fly," she conceded. "Maybe you might be on to something. Possibly."

"Of course I am," John said, with a sort of kingly, benevolent wave of his hand and a wicked grin that showed he knew exactly what he was doing. "But you've got to think outside the box, Eileen. Reclaim the witch, harpy, or banshee from their unflattering stereotypes. Make them strong and beautiful and terrifying all at once.

"See now, that, I don't reckon you'll have any trouble with." He laughed and shoveled in some more mac. Gourmet shit, for sure.

If it had been practically anybody else, Eileen would have been sure he was just blowing smoke up her ass; that was pretty much what teenage boys were best at. Except in his case, she didn't think John would have even the slightest clue why he would want to, much less how he'd go about it. So instead of the mother of all migraines, the Aussie firebug got a smirk.

"Can't deny you got a point there," she said. "Keep it up with the good ideas, and we'll have to add the word 'savant' to your title."

"I'll take it." John giggled a little (after swallowing, obviously). "Also there are bird themes to think of. Not actual birds, but something like one. A raven or a hawk--or something mythical, I mean, there's always a firebird."

She barked a short, sharp laugh. "Of course there is. Not sure I want to run the risk you suddenly decide my costume needs to be more authentic, though. Anyway, I don't think I want to go the feathers route. I'd probably end up a sneezing, snotty mess and fall into into the punch bowl, or some damn thing."

John gave a sudden, sharp cackle at that. He opened his mouth, but then paused. "If I make a joke about making a splash, you're going to make me puke up my toenails, aren't you?" He didn't seem particularly put off by the idea, either. But, well, even a dog could learn.

"Maybe there's something to this whole conditioned behavior thing, after all," Eileen mused, in answer to his question. "I should write a paper. Or get someone with actual knowledge of the subject to write one, and credit me. Huh." She thought that over for a minute, then brightened suddenly. "What if I go as some kind of tropical fish? That's pretty colorful, and flying is kind of like swimming, but in the air." Bright blue eyes looked John's way ... not really wanting his approval, exactly, but keen to know just how dumb he thought the idea was.

John swallowed a huge, half-chewed bite of chicken, nodding eagerly. "That is just the kind of thinking we need. Maybe one of those blue ones with the yellow stripes or something."

"Or a lionfish." Eileen had seen a news clip about lionfish, once, when pretending to be normal had been her life. She'd been quite taken at the time with the bold colors and long, streamer-like fins and sharp spines. As invasive species went, it was gorgeously elegant. But there didn't seem to be any need to say all of that out loud. Instead, she offered, "Lionfish are cool."

John pulled out his mobile and typed "lionfish" into Google. "Dunno what they look like, but it sounds good, anyhow. Ah! Ooooh, yes, that's perfect. And you can float around the party like swimming. Brilliant!"

"Brilliant" might have been going a bit far, but Eileen definitely didn't hate the idea. No, she didn't hate the idea at all. She could do a helluva lot worse, that was for sure. Another mouthful of curry disappeared with gusto. "Fine. That settles that, then." Didn't really touch on the idea of how she would obtain a costume like that, but one thing at a time. Maybe Ellie would have some ideas. "Mutant school Halloween is going to be goddamn trippy," she reflected suddenly. But she didn't hate that idea, either.

"Precisely why it is not to be missed." John pointed at her with his fork and cocked an eyebrow.

Eileen threw up her hands in an overblown but inevitable display of aggravation. "Fine, mom," she relented ungraciously. "If I talk to my roommate and she happens to have some ideas," which, hell, she probably would; Ellie seemed to get excited by stuff like that, "then I'll go to the stupid party. Jeez."