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Samlicker81 finally meets Hotpants4Heathcliff. Fics, ships, and the psychic capabilities of hair all get a mention.



Of course, when John saw Becky sitting alone in the lunch room, he went directly for her and plopped his tray down, assuming they were well past introductions at that point. He couldn't have been more excited to find a kindred spirit at Xavier's! "I think it should be called Clabby, don't you? It's hilarious!" He giggled a little.

Becky had been busy staring at the butterflies that she had written to flutter around the cafeteria when someone sat abruptly in front of her. Blinking, she tried to process the question. Clabby? Obviously a ship name. But who for? Cl... and Abb... Abigail! Oh god. She had only mentioned that to.. "H-hotpants? Is it really you?" She clasped a hand over her mouth for a moment, hiding a gleeful grin. She quickly shifted gears, though, sensing that there was much to discuss. Becky leaned in, a demonic glint appearing in her eye. "I've been going with Branton, but I'm partial to last names."

"Hotpants in the flesh," John said with another small giggle, brandishing a french fry for emphasis. "And I love that look you've got right now. I know it well--and looked for it from the author of Sins of the Step-Brother."

Becky flushed a little. She really wasn't self-aware enough to know what her face was doing at any point in time, but she was flattered that someone knew her work. "Oh, gosh. Sot-SiB was written so long ago!" Her smile turned a bit smug. "I was rather happy with how the boat scene turned out, though."

"The post-epic-battle love scene was a stroke of pure genius," John agreed immediately. "Very inspiring. I read it before I'd even seen the show--went back and re-read it after I got caught up this year. Still one of my favorites."

Becky barked out a surprised laugh. "This from the author of The Black Veil? I read that entire series just because you wrote that fic! That's what I go back to whenever I feel like I'm writing them too OOC!" Still, Becky glowed a little with the praise. A little embarrassed, too, she looked away and absently tracked one of her butterflies as it landed on her hand. Blowing on it to send it elsewhere, she watched as it joined several others fluttering near that surly white-haired guy who always wears bandanas. Maybe they thought his hair was a flower?

Realizing now was probably not the best time to ruminate on the intelligence and/or self-awareness of her creations, Becky turned back to John. "Speaking of - is Among Enemies destined to the WIP graveyard?"

John could not have been more pleased--either with her butterflies or with her enthusiasm. Finally, a match for his own! "'Fraid so," he admitted. "Lately I've been sticking to the Bronte fic and some other projects. This place is a fair hotbed of potential romantic activity--you saw it your first day!--and I'm regularly inspired."

Becky nodded - it was a sad fact of writing that so often one fic must die for the others to live. But Becky's grin became manic as she leaned in again, knowing she had found the perfect information source. "Okay, you need to catch me up on all the ships. Beautam, obviously, and I've already got that Songbird and Superhot" Becky waved towards the roommates "are banging like tomorrow's the apocalypse - or at least they want to - but there are way too many attractive people here and they all deserve at least a romantic subplot."

"That's just what I always think!" John glanced at the two dark-haired boys deep in conversation nearby and was amazed. "Can't believe I never noticed that before--they're well in love, aren't they?

"Oh, and there's the two TA's, Blaine and Kurt, who are engaged. Dead adorable, those two. And I think Shaun and Jensen--also TA's now--the ones who were Dean and Cas for Halloween? They're definitely doing it. Oh and dude Maximoff has this boyfriend who lives in town now--he's fuckin' gorgeous, got the long hair, total romance novel material."

Becky rolled her eyes. "Trust me, I was at that Who marathon with them, you could practically see the cartoon hearts in their eyes. This" she patted the laptop case sitting next to her "is filled with at least 12 different origin stories for them. And it must be true love, because only one of them ends in death!" Not that Becky didn't enjoy writing the occasional tragedy, but there were some couples that made so little sense she couldn't help but send them to a fiery grave. And, to be fair to Tim, no one expects the unicorn.

She sighed as she glanced around the cafeteria. So many pretty people - why didn't they want to display their love a little more? "I can't wait to watch their relationships develop. And I guess I'll have to find my way into town at some point." Shooting a measuring glance at John, Becky asked, "But can that possibly mean that you - Hotpants4Heathcliff, king of the epic love novel who can make boys and girls quiver with a single comma - are you not engaged in your own torrid affair?"

John's lunch was utterly forgotten as he was swept away in her stories of their fellow students. It was clear as day now, with Tim and Conner, that there must be something--and they were roommates, even! Lucky them! Of course, if John were writing it, he would've spiced things up, moving them to an alternate reality and making it not-them, but far-more-interesting-them. Possibly on a space ship or in Napoleonic France. But, well, Becky had more than enough skills to pull off a RPS contemporary, any day!

And at her last point, his eyes brightened and he sat straighter, as if he'd entirely forgotten. (Though he hadn't--he thought about Bigby rather constantly, but it was just a matter of it not seeming very interesting from the outside?) "As a matter of fact, I am! I've got a beautiful boyfriend--can hardly believe it myself, but he's quite a catch. Name of Bigby. Not in here at the moment, but he's lovely. Wolf-shifter too--Big Bad Wolf, how's that for romance?"

Becky snorted, desperately grateful that she wasn't drinking anything at the moment. Waggling her eyebrows a little, she asked, "Bigby? The Big Bad Wolf? I hope for your sake he isn't overcompensating for something."

John cackled gleefully, filling the lunch room momentarily with his laughter. A familiar sound, for most of Xavier's students. "No, no, rest assured, he was born with the name Bigby and I call him the Big Bad Wolf." John waggled his eyebrows, but thought it best to leave some mystery there.

Of course, when he'd started calling Bigby that, it had been a mystery. But, well. You know.

Her giggles slowly winding down, Becky rested her chin on her fist and started daydreaming. "Oh, I could totally see you with some big gruff wolf-man. How did you meet? Were you wearing a red jacket? Oh, does his wolfy behavior bleed through? And please tell me there is lots of punning." Becky sighed, her brain already placing John and the mystery lover in an empty parking lot, John cautious but intrigued by a burly yet somehow vulnerable man that approached him. "A nickname like that deserves all the puns."

"Whenever I can make a pun, I always do!" Of course, Bigby had once met a girl in a red jacket... and he'd almost eaten her. But John had learned enough about social interactions--not to mention about his boyfriend--to know that wasn't the sort of thing one talked to people about. Even if the people weren't strangers. "He is a bit growly and protective even when he's not a wolf--and as a boy he's nearly half a foot shorter than me, but massive in his wolf-form.

"Actually I think we met in the library." And then, as if he was thinking of it for the very first time, "Oh, that's rather romantic, really, for a writer. Well done, Bigby."

Becky clapped her hands together in excitement. "That is so perfect." Becky's mind was racing with all the scenarios... But... this was how she got into trouble at her old school. Biting her lip, she decided she better make the question general, though she didn't really think that Hotpants would mind. "So, how upset do you think people around here would get if I wrote about them?"

"In my experience," John said quite seriously--as this was something he'd actually learned from his mother, "it's best to let them know first. Though my methods are different, since I don't really write about them. I write about more interesting imaginary people with bits of them in, yeah? So I dunno if the same methods apply.

"I do notice that most people are fair horrified by the fanfiction, though, so take that as you like." Personally, John didn't understand why, but then, he rarely understood things. Either way, his expression showed he wasn't impressed.

Becky's grimace of distaste made her opinion on that fairly clear, as well. "Ugh. Maybe I'll post something on my journal? I just don't want them to get butthurt about nothing. I mean, yeah, there might be some make out scenes in my stories, but I've been trying to be more plot driven, and it's easier with already-made characters." Becky sighed. It wasn't like other people weren't creating their own fantasies about the people around them, Becky just tended to write hers down. And maybe post them. Which, fair, could be an issue at this place. "Maybe if I promised not to post anything? God, people can be so touchy."

Giving herself a shake to get out of her negative funk, Becky gave John an admiring look. "But anyways, I'm actually super impressed by people like you, who go out and make their own people all the time. I only ever invented a sister, and even then I changed her character all the time. I always wanted her to be more than what I had thought up, to be more real but also better, you know? But your OCs are always really well balanced." Becky fiddled with a napkin a little. "I, uh, hope I'll have the opportunity to read more of your original work?" She let out a massive grin, "You know, before you're published and famous." Becky knew he would be, too - some of his fanfic were better written than novels she had read.

The compliments made him sit a little straighter and smile a little bigger. And he'd remembered his food, so that was good, too! "I'd love to show you some--and I can tell you where I got the ideas, too, if they came from around here. Some people are more helpful than others. And some just look at me like I'm mad, but, well. No accounting for taste, as my mum used to say."

Becky nodded. "Your mom sounds very wise." Looking around the cafeteria, Becky considered all the different personalities. Some of them seemed to have fairly simple motivations. Maybe she could try mix and matching some of them, and see what comes out? Some others were entirely mysterious, though...

"Have you ever written someone based on him?" She gestured to the white-haired guy that the now-faded butterflies had been so fascinated by. "Ini-something? He always seems so grumpy and mysterious. And what is his bandana hiding? Is his hair full of secrets?" She had never thought she'd reference that movie in earnest, but it fit rather well.

John snorted at the bit about his mother being wise--far from it!--but with a little grin. Then he followed her gaze to Inu-yasha and shook his head. "I never paid much attention to him--but I reckon he's great material. He gets in fights with everyone and always wears that thing. I like that for a plot. Hair full of secrets..."

Becky furrowed her brow. Had he really not? "Oh, I need to show you this movie at some point." Considering that there were people who could literally grow claws and attack other students, Becky thought it could translate especially well to this school. Though she hadn't met any Regina's, yet. "And the way you said that makes me think of hair that can whisper messages to people." Becky wrinkled her nose at the image. "Which seems pretty creepy. Like, is the hair sentient? How would the person be able to sleep with all that chatter?" She was thinking, of course, of Sam and his luscious locks. By the gods, what that hair might say if given the opportunity.

Letting the idea bounce around her head, Becky continued pondering out loud. "Would each strand hold its own information? Oh, what if it was like recording equipment, that you could play back what you missed during the day. No, that's too easy. Psychic hair? That picks up on psychic impressions from surrounding people?" It felt like it was missing something, though... She wanted to write out some scenarios, see what stuck out as not making sense using her powers, but maybe John would have an idea? She'd never had the opportunity to brainstorm with another writer before. "What were you thinking of?"

"Psychic hair--I like it," John said thoughtfully. "Maybe each strand collects information until its full, then whispers it to him--and he has to wear the bandanna to keep it quiet so he doesn't go mad?"

"Oh!" You practically could see the bulb light up in Becky's brain. "What if his hair holds his secrets, and the bandana prevents his hair from spilling everything to us!"

John wriggled in his seat with glee. "It's perfect! His own built-in drama! Might explain why he's so shitty all the time, too!"

"Can you imagine?" Becky smothered her cackle behind her fist. "His street cred would be entirely ruined if mid-glare you suddenly hear, 'I like to sneak into the woods and make daisy crowns!'"

John didn't bother to smother his cackle, as usual--it rang through the cafeteria. "And dance in the moonlight!"

Sucking in a deep breath to calm her giggling, Becky raised her eyebrows at John. "Well, let's be fair. Who doesn't like a good moonlight waltz?" Tilting her head to the side, considering, Becky mused, "It's no fun to waltz alone, though. I wonder what kind of person he'd match with?"

"Well, the safe bet is someone with the patience and perseverance to break through that angry shit exterior and find the prince charming within," John said, still grinning. "But I dunno, I reckon he could also lend himself to a really great enemies-to-lovers scenario. Depending on how much of an ass he really is and how much is swagger, yeah?"

"Yeah, but enemies-to-lovers really needs a closed room scenario to work..." Becky paused and then thumped herself on the head. "Right. Boarding school." They were all pretty much stuck with each other. Or the townies. Ooo, townies. "What if he fell in love with a human? That would totally knock him off his high horse. And it would end up being the ultimate Romeo and Juliet romance, I'm sure." Becky refused to think that someone with that much angst wasn't a closet romantic.

"Lots to explore there," John admitted. Of course, he wrote supernaturals with non-supernatural partners all the time, but a mutant with a flatscan just felt... impractical, to him. Though he supposed, "There'd be so much a human wouldn't understand, you could really get a lot of angst out of that..." Always a good thing, right?

Hmming thoughtfully, Becky tried to organize the complicated ideas zipping around her mind. "Oh, I dunno. Well, yeah, they might have trouble understanding... but... okay. Firstly" she ticked off a finger, "there just aren't enough mutants yet to have solely mutant-mutant match ups work out, and secondly, most of the world isn't like this school. If there was another mutant in my home town I certainly didn't know about it. And even if there was someone of appropriate gender and age there's no guarantee we would be interested in each other..."

Trailing off, Becky frowned at her uneaten food, frustrated that she couldn't find a way to express her conviction that genetic similarity meant very little when it came down to pure love. "Which is all a round-about way of saying that mutant-human pairings can't be all that rare. So either there isn't as much of a difference as it feels like there is, or... maybe there are support systems around?" Squinting and tapping the table with a finger, she gave a frustrated sigh. "No, what I basically mean is that love is love is love, and while he in particular would probably be a bucketful of angst, with other mutants I don't think just being with a human would cause drama." God. This was why she was so much better behind a computer screen - she could edit.

John, however, was following perfectly, nodding and humming in interest here and there. "Well, I'm not so sure I'd be able to do it," he admitted. "I've only got the one experience dating, which is a lot different than I expected, but half the reason it works is that he gets things.

"Still, I reckon you're not wrong entirely. Individuals, and all that. Variety and spices and life."

Relieved that he seemed to get everything that made Becky tick, she gave him a wide smile. Staring into his eye she sighed, content. "Do you believe in soul mates?" Quickly realizing how that could be interpreted, she corrected, "Uh, not romantically, though obviously those exist, hah... I mean, literary soul mates. Who respect the same plotty waters and the ships that sail them."

"Literary soul-mates," John repeated, eyes wide, then nodded solemnly. "I think you've hit on something there, man. How else could we have never met, but be able to finish each others' stories?"

Becky tried to match his solemnity but couldn't hold in her glee. "If only that worked for Among Enemies! I die a little inside every time I get to that last 'TBC'..." she teased.

He giggled and pointed at her with his fork. "You know, just for you, I might try and move forward on it..."

Widening and then narrowing her eyes in quick succession, Becky pulled her own tray back towards herself. "Don't you get my hopes up, Hotpants. I know where you live now."

John winked. "Another plot, right there! I'll keep it in mind, Samlicker. Always in mind."

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