Template:Featured Articles/15-2019
 “And here I thought zombies only existed in movies.” Maya stood at the entrance to the kitchen, which stood, conveniently enough, in a small hallway off to the side of the main stairs. It was both an easy run from the residential areas and nicely central to the other parts of Xavier’s school for the eternally optimistic and slightly or entirely mad. Maya hadn’t asked anyone about the last but she was fairly sure you had to be permanently lacking in sanity to live here long-term. Artie gave her a tired glare. "Hi Maya. i'm well thanks. How are you today?" Maybe modelling polite conversation would work with Maya. Who knew. He reached the kitchen and the coffee maker and poured one out. “I’m stuck in a never ending hellscape while my family is in danger and I can’t be with them. Oh, and they guy who told my Dad he’d look after me left me with some bald, old guy as a guardian. How are you?” Having delivered that short tirade via sign, Maya walked back into the kitchen and took a seat, chin immediately meeting hand as she gave Artie a bright, sunny smile laced with sarcasm. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him, she actually did. She just had no ability to be _nice_. None of that was new, though. Artie drank his coffee, eyes half closed and felt some of his headache ease. The hangover half. The other half of his headache was mostly from the now barely visible bruise on his cheekbone and coffee didn't fix that or any of the other bruises he had. One handed, the other still cradling the half empty mug, Artie signed "Yes, and?" “I have a dance recital?” she signed back. She gave him a somewhat quizzical look, unsure as to exactly what he was looking for. She wasn’t a sharer, or a person to whom small talk came naturally. He was too hungover for this. Whatever. Fuck it. "Maya," Artie put the coffee cup down and used both hands now, for additional emphasis. "Am I your therapist or a friend?" "Friend." Maya's sign was in no way hesitant, although she wasn't exactly sure where he was going with this. It's not like she was telling him her life story or anything. Fuck it. "Look, I'm telling you this as a friend because I am out of fucks to give today. You don't talk friends like that - starting with an insult and going on to bitch about shit that isn't going to change. You have a fucking conversation. If you did that, people would get along with you better. You're a good kid. Let them see that by having a normal conversation occasionally." Artie rubbed his temples. Yeah, he needed that Tylenol. "Firstly, that wasn't an insult, it was a joke but whatever. Anyway, did you miss the part where I told you I had a dance recital?" "Right. I missed that. Sorry." The word dripped with sarcasm. "It doesn't change the fact that you think a joke is when you insult someone!" "Are you just looking to fight with me?" Maya who had started off signing one handed had also switched to two for emphasis, her gestures sharper as her temper, never far from the surface began to boil. She wasn't here to be lectured to by anyone, not even a friend. "From where I'm standing, you started by looking for a fight. You're snippy. Can't you just chill the fuck out for fifteen goddamn minutes for once in your life? People would like you better if you had a little chill sometimes." Artie's pose was was relaxed and his face and hands matched his posture. XForce made you an actor. But his heart was racing. Fuck, come in for tylenol, pick a fight with a kid. Whatever. |
