i've no more fucks to give.
May. 3rd, 2020 03:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
goldtoxicity posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
neopoints[ there's a new boy on campus. one of the last mutants left standing after m-day happened.
word on the street is he's a transfer (a survivor) of the now defunct xavier's institute, his tuition paid for by his legal guardian after he'd been picked up wandering the streets. he's seventeen, nearing eighteen, but his educational levels are all over the place. a prodigy in the sciences, but barely scraping by on the humanities. he had health problems, the kid who'd given him a tour of the school had said, having eavesdropped before they'd been formally introduced. he spent the past two months in a coma.
joshua foley is a mystery.
the school's first mutant, or at least it's first out one. he can't hide - his skin is a bright, glittery gold, with smudges of black that seem to move. his hair silver, long enough that it's just starting to curl. and his eyes - they're corpselike, they say. unsettling.
but that doesn't stop people from clamoring for his attention. he socializes, but at a polite distance. which serve the wealthy elite just fine. they're curious and polite, but from a comfortable distance. enough that their wealthy parents will be upset that they associated with a mutant - instagram pictures and facebook posts directly aimed at mommy and daddy's delicate sensibilities. he gets it. he's friendly but not a friend, and they're friendly but they've got enough friends.
the only one that approaches with anything more than casual curious conversation is the clean-cut richard campbell gansey the third. their conversation starts cordial, some light brightens josh's too pale eyes, but must say just the wrong thing, because that invitation to his little collection of misfits is met with an immediate shutdown. ] Dude, no. [ he'd snapped. ] I came here to get away from people like you.
[ what exactly prompted that response wasn't heard, or if it was, isn't being said. the story is better without it. gansey had tried to apologize, of course, but nobody bothers with that detail. what is tacked on is the way ronan lynch and the mutant had locked eyes afterwards. the way his brows had pinched together and the way ronan had sneered before he, adam, and gansey had turned to lope off across the quad, and josh had watched them go, stuffing his hands in his pockets. ]
You would think [ he'd allegedly muttered, quietly and hatefully ] somebody in a place like this would have a little tact.
[ but that's all external.
internally, joshua foley has no idea what to make of this. every part of him itches to run again, to try to dodge around how much dani loves and cares for him so he can disappear into the scenery and be forgotten about. so long as she knows he's here he's never really free. she says she won't use him like he was used before, she says that his powers are his - but he doesn't trust that anymore. not when he knows that he exists as a last resort, an easy out, and all it takes is one person to remember for him to be pulled back into the hell of obligation and family.
no one here knows what he can do.
he passes it off as a physical mutation, nothing more nothing less. unfortunate. boring. people lose interest once they know he can't blast fire out of his fingertips, and the only one who knows the truth is told off swiftly and coldly. if they get killed pursuing something stupid and magical, that's not his problem. no skin off his nose. it won't bother him a lick.
( if he tells himself this enough he's certain it will be true )
the mystery and intrigue doesn't fade out completely, but there's always a new scandal, a new faux pas to gossip about. it isn't until one of the distant-but-friendly classmates on a science project hands him an invite to a special party later on in the week that he actually starts to feel like they see him as a person and not a novelty.
though it could just be for bragging rights about being tolerant.
and what a party. absolute riot. he's nearly buzzed off the atmosphere alone, further away from the vibe of xavier's and the x-force than he'd been since he'd set foot on campus. there are fireworks and explosions, kids with too much money and too much freedom smashing newly purchased televisons just for the hell of it. one moron twists his ankle trying to jump over his car, and no one looks at him expectantly to heal it.
he's not here for that. he's - backsliding is probably the term david would use, if david were here. back without any sort of parental supervision, without obligation or duty, he's spinning out. he has nothing but time to think. and all that thinking - that's the problem right there. it makes him angry, it makes him upset. it gives him a private dorm at dani's request, both because she knows he has nightmares and because she fears that he might lose control and hurt someone.
so that thinking - that thinking, those thought, all this terrible damage - has to be turned off for a while. he asks for a guide, and when they ask what he wants, he says a little bit of special k and it sounds stupid but it earns him a grin and a jerk of their head towards the car where the host is lounging. kavisnky's a name he's heard rumbled here and there, the master forger. the up and coming druglord to be.
the boy that actually leads him there - a with the glassy eyes and giddy smile - doesn't feel right. he feels the hair on the back of his neck prickle as his senses warn him that something is off about the way he's built. something vital here or there is missing, isn't it? josh doubletakes when they're close enough to brush wrists, hand tensing as wrong and missing flood his senses. he doesn't catch himself as he turns to watch him go, brows drawn together and lips parted - tempted to call him back, to ask if he can look deeper to make sure he's okay, but he stops himself.
it's probably fine, he thinks. maybe he got his appendix out. maybe, maybe, maybe -
maybe he's just crazy. maybe this isn't his fucking problem. he shakes his head as if to rattle the thought out, fixing the host with a smile. ]
Hey. I was told you're like, the guy to talk to around here for contraband.
word on the street is he's a transfer (a survivor) of the now defunct xavier's institute, his tuition paid for by his legal guardian after he'd been picked up wandering the streets. he's seventeen, nearing eighteen, but his educational levels are all over the place. a prodigy in the sciences, but barely scraping by on the humanities. he had health problems, the kid who'd given him a tour of the school had said, having eavesdropped before they'd been formally introduced. he spent the past two months in a coma.
joshua foley is a mystery.
the school's first mutant, or at least it's first out one. he can't hide - his skin is a bright, glittery gold, with smudges of black that seem to move. his hair silver, long enough that it's just starting to curl. and his eyes - they're corpselike, they say. unsettling.
but that doesn't stop people from clamoring for his attention. he socializes, but at a polite distance. which serve the wealthy elite just fine. they're curious and polite, but from a comfortable distance. enough that their wealthy parents will be upset that they associated with a mutant - instagram pictures and facebook posts directly aimed at mommy and daddy's delicate sensibilities. he gets it. he's friendly but not a friend, and they're friendly but they've got enough friends.
the only one that approaches with anything more than casual curious conversation is the clean-cut richard campbell gansey the third. their conversation starts cordial, some light brightens josh's too pale eyes, but must say just the wrong thing, because that invitation to his little collection of misfits is met with an immediate shutdown. ] Dude, no. [ he'd snapped. ] I came here to get away from people like you.
[ what exactly prompted that response wasn't heard, or if it was, isn't being said. the story is better without it. gansey had tried to apologize, of course, but nobody bothers with that detail. what is tacked on is the way ronan lynch and the mutant had locked eyes afterwards. the way his brows had pinched together and the way ronan had sneered before he, adam, and gansey had turned to lope off across the quad, and josh had watched them go, stuffing his hands in his pockets. ]
You would think [ he'd allegedly muttered, quietly and hatefully ] somebody in a place like this would have a little tact.
[ but that's all external.
internally, joshua foley has no idea what to make of this. every part of him itches to run again, to try to dodge around how much dani loves and cares for him so he can disappear into the scenery and be forgotten about. so long as she knows he's here he's never really free. she says she won't use him like he was used before, she says that his powers are his - but he doesn't trust that anymore. not when he knows that he exists as a last resort, an easy out, and all it takes is one person to remember for him to be pulled back into the hell of obligation and family.
no one here knows what he can do.
he passes it off as a physical mutation, nothing more nothing less. unfortunate. boring. people lose interest once they know he can't blast fire out of his fingertips, and the only one who knows the truth is told off swiftly and coldly. if they get killed pursuing something stupid and magical, that's not his problem. no skin off his nose. it won't bother him a lick.
( if he tells himself this enough he's certain it will be true )
the mystery and intrigue doesn't fade out completely, but there's always a new scandal, a new faux pas to gossip about. it isn't until one of the distant-but-friendly classmates on a science project hands him an invite to a special party later on in the week that he actually starts to feel like they see him as a person and not a novelty.
though it could just be for bragging rights about being tolerant.
and what a party. absolute riot. he's nearly buzzed off the atmosphere alone, further away from the vibe of xavier's and the x-force than he'd been since he'd set foot on campus. there are fireworks and explosions, kids with too much money and too much freedom smashing newly purchased televisons just for the hell of it. one moron twists his ankle trying to jump over his car, and no one looks at him expectantly to heal it.
he's not here for that. he's - backsliding is probably the term david would use, if david were here. back without any sort of parental supervision, without obligation or duty, he's spinning out. he has nothing but time to think. and all that thinking - that's the problem right there. it makes him angry, it makes him upset. it gives him a private dorm at dani's request, both because she knows he has nightmares and because she fears that he might lose control and hurt someone.
so that thinking - that thinking, those thought, all this terrible damage - has to be turned off for a while. he asks for a guide, and when they ask what he wants, he says a little bit of special k and it sounds stupid but it earns him a grin and a jerk of their head towards the car where the host is lounging. kavisnky's a name he's heard rumbled here and there, the master forger. the up and coming druglord to be.
the boy that actually leads him there - a with the glassy eyes and giddy smile - doesn't feel right. he feels the hair on the back of his neck prickle as his senses warn him that something is off about the way he's built. something vital here or there is missing, isn't it? josh doubletakes when they're close enough to brush wrists, hand tensing as wrong and missing flood his senses. he doesn't catch himself as he turns to watch him go, brows drawn together and lips parted - tempted to call him back, to ask if he can look deeper to make sure he's okay, but he stops himself.
it's probably fine, he thinks. maybe he got his appendix out. maybe, maybe, maybe -
maybe he's just crazy. maybe this isn't his fucking problem. he shakes his head as if to rattle the thought out, fixing the host with a smile. ]
Hey. I was told you're like, the guy to talk to around here for contraband.
