Video; un: ilikehorses

[shoplifter]

[Laura's been trying to adjust. Part of her wonders if coming here wasn't a grave mistake — she'd come thinking there are more like her, people who would accept her more willingly, and in a way, that's true. However... There are a few... annoyances. Grievances. Her rather overworked case worker Linda has been making sure she goes to school. Today isn't the best day for school, though. She's quiet and 'weird' and the other children usually aren't fond of her and her quiet but present danger.

And for Laura, well. She doesn't do well with anyone 'teaching' her. She's had too much of 'teaching' the last eleven years of her... eleven years.

She may or may not have punched another kid in the eye.

She may or may not have ditched school.

And now she sits on the top of a rather tall and dangerous brick-ish wall in the city, her feet hanging precariously off the edge. Close by, the shadow of a tram wooshes by, and somewhere out there, Linda the Case Worker is having a heart attack. Laura, however, seems more puzzled and annoyed than anything. She sits with a potentially stolen bag of mini-donuts, her favorite glasses pressed up on her forehead and her lovely albeit mildly damaged unicorn shirt clear and vibrant.]


Why do children have to go to classes? 

I can learn outside of school.


[There are mean children that exist. She's never ran into children who are so exclusionary; after all, mutants had to stick together.

And teachers aren't bad, but something about the set-up bothers her, in ways she's not sure how to explain.

Maybe it's harder to blend in than you'd think. Not that she had gone into this with any high hopes.] 

Comments

[nostalgiabomb]

Ah. [ A pause, then, ]

You know, the same crap used to happen to me when I was in school. Some little a-holes thought it'd be fun to pick on the scrawny kid.

I used to hit 'em, too.

Apparently that's frowned down upon. Go figure.

[shoplifter]

[She looks offended on his behalf. This whole 'frowned upon' thing bothers her deeply.]

It stops them from doing it again, if you hit them hard enough.

They're scared of pain.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter huffs out a quiet sort of laugh. ]

If you hit 'em hard enough, sure.

Me? I had noodles for arms, those days. Me hittin' the other kids mostly just made 'em mad.

[ Which meant coming home with black eyes and a note from the teacher. ]

You kind have to learn how to pick your fights, though, otherwise you're gonna be punching folks all the time. There just aren't enough hours in the day for that.

[shoplifter]

... There's 24 hours in the day.

That's a lot of hours.

[nostalgiabomb]

Sure, but you've gotta factor sleeping and eating in there, too. Possibly a recess, in case you get bored.

Plus, your arms are gonna get sore from all the hitting. And all that repetitive motion? Gonna be killer on your shoulders. So you're gonna wanna take a couple breaks.

[shoplifter]

My arms won't get sore.

[Laura, that's not the point.

A pause.]

I do like recess. I listen to my music where they don't see.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ His smile goes unseen, considering he's opted for voice rather than video, but man, those words hit a little close to home. ]

Yeah? What're you listenin' to?

[shoplifter]

[She considers the playlist on the phone.

Nate had tried to explain it before; her memory is sharp enough to recollect it a bit more effortlessly.]

Hip hop music, and rock-and-roll, and techno.

Are those good ones? ... Genres?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ A thoughtful little hum. ]

They're good ones if you like 'em. That's all that really matters.

You got anything you really like? I can offer some suggestions if you're in the market for new stuff.

[shoplifter]

I like the song about big butts.

[I don't think Nate told his parents about that one.

someone stop her]

What do you have?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ There’s a bit of a pause as Peter tries to figure out what the heck song she’s talking about. ]

That’s. A new one on me.

[ who would make a song about butts why is that a thing what happened in the ‘90s ]

But, uhhh. Hang on a sec.

[ A few minutes later, this text arrives from the user “star.lord”: ]

a small sampler

Runaways – “Cherry Bomb”
Heart – “If Looks Could Kill”
Tina Turner – “Better Be Good to Me”
Blondie – “Atomic”
Gloria Gaynor – “I Will Survive”
Joan Jett – “Bad Reputation”
Stevie Nicks – “Edge of Seventeen”
Nina Simone – “Here Comes the Sun”

[ And returning to audio: ] D’you get that?

1/2

[shoplifter]

[She can't hear you, she's playing music.

Bye, dude.]

[shoplifter]

[But approximately an hour later, out of nowhere — ]

Why does she have such a bad reputation? Did she kill people?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter flinches bodily when his comm alerts him to a new message, and he fumbles with the device for a second before he listens to the response. ]

I dunno. It's kinda up to interpretation?

Maybe she just liked punching people.

[shoplifter]

... I like her.

[Good job, Peter, she's super pleased.]

Where did you find these?

[I will steal more.]

[nostalgiabomb]

I grew up listening to a lot of those when I was a kid. My mom liked playing music around the house whenever we had chores to do. Made time go by a little faster if you were cleaning to a rhythm.

[shoplifter]

[She tries to imagine it. Really, she does. She can sort of see it if she thinks about the Munsons... but then she thinks about claws and screaming, of what had happened to them -- there was... time before it, though. Time where things were familial. Kathryn Munson, picking up dishes - There, a decent response. Something from memory. She moves a hand in a circular motion.]

Like... cleaning food off of the plates.

Houses are nice for that.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ A bit of a pause, and Peter lets out an agreeing sort of hum. ]

Yeah. Washing dishes, definitely.

Vacuuming, too. Dusting. Folding up laundry. Junk like that.

[ Although Peter’s getting the impression that the two of them might not be on the same page, as far as chores go. But, hey, why bother calling her out on it?

Chores sucked. ]

Plus, a lot of those songs are exactly the kinda thing to listen to whenever you need to get psyched up. I really like listening to “Cherry Bomb” when I need to kick some ass.

[shoplifter]

[Huuuuh. Now that's even more curious a thought. She's distracted by the fact that she has no clue what vacuuming is. Or dusting. Laundry wasn't that weird, but it wasn't something she ever dealt with herself; she got blood on a lot of those outfits they kept them all in.]

... Isn't it hard to hear other things in the fight?

If you kick asses with music.

[nostalgiabomb]

Easy. One headphone on, one headphone off.

[ listen buddy, star-lord’s got this down to a science. ]

But sometimes listening to it beforehand is enough to pick up your mood. At least, it usually helped me whenever I had to deal with those assholes at school.

[shoplifter]

[She mumbles to herself, shuffling around; the muffled sound of Peter's music meets the feed, from her earbuds. Mumbling continued:]

... Headphone on, one off...

♪ Ch-ch-ch-ch-cherrybomb... ♪

[Good job, bud, you've made the world a groovier place.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ it’s basically his goal in life tbqh ]

Seems like you nailed the secret technique.

If you want any other suggestions, let me know. I’m probably good for it.

[shoplifter]

Okay.

[....................... Now she feels indebted. Man.]

I can — give you some, if you want them.

I have a lot from the iPhone.

[... Tbh she only knows it's called that because it says it on the thing's back.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ A confused pause.

Then, ]

What’s an iPhone?

[ Like. He knows those sounds individually. “Eye” and “phone.” Putting them together like that sounds like it is a Specific Thing. ]

[shoplifter]

[She holds up the weird 2020's doohickey.

Welcome to the future, Peter. She jiggles it back and forth.]

Este es el iPhone.

It has music. And 'Solitaire'.