Tommy and Warren, Backdated to August 4
Aug. 4th, 2017 03:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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ax_mainTommy and Warren bond over Smash Brothers, and Warren suggests a new career path.
Yessssss, time for some Super Smash Brothers! Warren grabbed the Wiimote and slid into the couch sideways so he could tuck his wings over the arm of the couch, grinning maniacally. More fun if someone was there to melee with him, but hey. Dark Pit was about to get some use out of those wings....
And Tommy'd been beaten to the lounge again; damn summer school classes anyway. On the plus side, getting the chance to flatten half the student body (even if it was one at a time) was doing wonders for his reputation. "Smash Brothers?" he asked, strolling in, hands in his pockets. "I'll jump in on that. Unless you're dead set on losing to the AI."
"Never gonna happen," Warren said with a grin. Oh, right, the good-looking mouthy kid. Tim? Tam? Tom? Warren would have to ask, he guessed. For the moment, though, there was shit to talk. "But you're welcome to step in and steal defeat from the AI, if you're feeling masochistic."
"It's almost like you know me," Tommy cracked, already halfway across the room to pick up another controller. "But I'll leave the humiliation of public loss to you. I'm generous that way."
"Big talk," Warren said with an easy laugh. "Let's see it, then--sorry, what's your name again? I'm Warren."
"Tommy." He grabbed a controller and headed back toward the armchair. "Shepherd," he added, in case the school had added another Thomas while he wasn't looking. Given the rate at which he was meeting new people the last few weeks, it wouldn't entirely surprise him. "You're the one who got into it with Bobby over bathroom pranks on the school blog," he put the pieces together with a grin. "Good to attach a person to the handle."
Warren barked out a laugh. "Got into it is a little strong. Tell the truth, I think it'd do Tam some good to have a more--uh, authentic high school experience. Including pranks. I only took issue with it being in the showers--and only until I realized it was actually a proportionate response."
"Tam -- he's the one studying us, isn't he?" Tommy's mouth twisted in irritation and not a little annoyance. Not that he'd met the guy face to face; the moment the gossip had started going around, he'd made damn sure to make himself scarce. At least the dude wasn't in class with him. He'd have been a lot harder to avoid. "Whatever you do to him, I'm sure it's deserved."
He flung himself into the chair and draped his legs over one arm. "Alright - let's get this show on the road," he changed the subject abruptly. "Character selection?"
Warren observed Tommy's reaction, but was too polite to ask questions. He just filed it away as potentially important. "Dark Pit. Always. Love me some Kid Icarus." Obviously. Warren hopped to his winged wonder and selected it.
Tommy snorted a laugh. "Somehow I should've guessed." And he consciously let his irritation go. Now normally he'd main Kirby, just because people tended to go ballistic in amazingly entertaining ways when they got owned by a pink balloon. But in this case... "if we've got a theme going on," Tommy said aloud, and he grabbed Sonic, a grin re-emerging on his face. "Gotta go fast?"
"Oh dude, it is on." Warren smirked, certain he could beat that uncontrollable little jerk Sonic. Tails was better anyhow.
Tommy sagged back into the chair, his fingertips dancing over the controller with practiced ease. He needed to talk to Kitty about that controller she'd promised to hack together for him, but for the moment this one would do. "I guess I don't need to ask what brought you to mutant high," he mentioned casually, setting up one his favourite combos as he did. "Did you get anything else cool along with the wings?"
"Improved sight, cool bone structure, and proportionately wild strength," Warren said, biting at his lip. He came out strong, landing an immediate electroshock deal, but Tommy countered with one of those off-the-wall-ball attacks and Dark Pit went flying. Dammit. "But mostly it's just stuff that makes the wings work instead of being useless and pretty. What about you? Speed bonuses?"
"Like that's not slick enough on its own?" Tommy grinned wide. "But wait, there's more." He bounced Sonic into range and went for the up smash, catching the winged kid for a decent amount of damage before he could recover. "Molecular acceleration. I accelerate myself, and I go fast. When I accelerate other things, they blow up. Offensive and defensive in one sweet all-around package."
"Oh, dammit," Warren swore under his breath as Pittoo was knocked off the screen by that little blue ball of speed. He came back, swinging his double-bladed sword, then tried to execute a throw as Sonic got closer... and just ended up getting rolled over again. "That does sound pretty slick," he said, all sincerity in spite of his game frustration. "But, I mean, I got the anime dream-guy look with mine--so I've been told--so there's that too. Which is less destructive, but pretty useful."
“You’re going to bat those baby blues at the bad guys and hope they swoon long enough to forget why they were after you?” Tommy asked, looking him over. Yeah, he had the whole clean-cut Abercrombie and Fitch thing happening, but Tommy – definitely way on the other end of the Jock Boy spectrum – had never had that much trouble finding dates either. “Or are you going to carry a bag of cherry blossoms to drop at opportune moments?”
He was distracted and Warren got a hit in; Tommy bounced Sonic out of the way of a second one, clobbered him on the way out and just for shits and giggles, he punched in a taunt. “You’re too slow,” his avatar declared smugly.
"Always worked before," Warren said easily. He was only sort of being flippant. He'd been raised to charm and disarm, after all, but also it was just funny. "But the cherry blossom thing is a great idea, now you mention it. When I start heroing again I'll give that a shot."
And then Dark Pit went flying, hit the "camera lens" and flattened out, then slid down and dropped off the screen. "Oh that's it." He grinned as another Dark Pit reappeared, floating over the arena.
Tommy snickered. “If you make it a trademark, I get a cut of your merchandising.” But something else Warren had mentioned stuck with him. “What kind of heroing were you doing? Helping lost cats across roads and getting old ladies out of trees?”
Warren actually got in a good slicing attack, but got knocked back by the stupid ball of blue again. He laughed out loud at it, this time. The writing was on the wall, man. "Pretty sure I got an old lady out of a tree at least once. But, you know. Your standard dickheads in Central Park. Would be muggers, various assaults, selling hard drugs to kids. Actually, one drug dealer, I put in a tree. That was fun."
"No shit," Tommy replied with a laugh, mashing the B button and charging up his next move. "It sounds like you had quite the racket going on. What happened? Did you piss off the wrong rent a cop?"
"Cops couldn't catch me," Warren admitted with a grin, trying to jump over what he knew was coming but felt inevitable all the same. "And it's not a racket if you turn in the money. But I'm here to get better. Smarter about it. That kind of--ah, dammit!"
"Better focus on getting faster reflexes," Tommy advised sagely, Sonic doing his thing to beautiful -- and painful -- effect. And he set off the taunt again, because he was feeling good and Warren was a better sport than he'd originally predicted. "All the pretty blue eyes in the world won't help you if you get smacked down before you get close enough to bat them."
"Hey, this was never a problem before I met speedsters," Warren said with a snort and a chuckle. "That little bastard, taunt me, huh?" Warren went in for the slam.
Whoops -- Tommy was fast enough but the controller wasn't, damn the stupid thing anyway! -- and his dodge lagged a second too slow. No worries, he had this; he wasn't going to have to eat his words. One hit - even a good one - wasn't enough to take him completely down and out. "Recover, you little lagging motherfucker-" he muttered darkly. "Once Kitty gets a real controller happening around here..." There, finally! Sonic was up and out and rolling back at Dark Pit in the mood to do some serious damage.
"Gotta keep up with the world, hero," Tommy finally actually replied cheerfully enough, his shoulders relaxing as his frustration ebbed. "Things are changing."
There was no time left, and Sonic was coming. Warren tried to slice, but the blue ball of fury knocked Pittoo over and--yep. Time was up. Warren laughed. "That's what I get for using the evil clone. Okay you got me. That time.
"And thanks for the tip, man. I was totally thinking of becoming set in my ways and never learning any thing new at the age of 16. You've converted me." He was smirking a little, but his eyes were bright and he was definitely amused.
Tommy snickered in reply. "It's a game-changer," he joked right back. "Between that and the cherry blossoms, that's two you owe me for now."
"You're a mercenary," Warren said, dropping the controller and holding up his hands in defeat. "I can respect that. Even if it means paying you royalties now and then. The cherry blossoms are worth it."
"A man's gotta make a living somehow." Well, maybe this guy didn't, given his general look, but Tommy sure as hell was going to need to.The allowance in the school's welcome package for homeless headcases like him would only last so long. And now he was thinking about serious things when he was supposed to be putting in some solid goofing-off time. He needed to cut that out.
"If you were taking out bad guys in Central park, that must make you a local boy. Local-ish," Tommy amended.
Warren chuckled at the observation about making a living. So his father kept reminding him, though "making a living" was entirely different in Warren Jr.'s mind than in most people's, seeing as it meant "run my company exactly the way I would when I'm dead."
"Upper West Side, born and mostly raised." Not like there was any point in hiding it. "You?"
"I should've guessed," Tommy snorted, but not unkindly. "Let me guess; this is the first school you've been to that doesn't have a uniform." As for himself... not like he could pretend to be from anywhere other than he was. "Newark. I'm a Jersey boy." And from right down the other end of the socioeconomic scale, but hopefully Warren wouldn't turn out to be a total snob. He didn't seem like it, but Tommy'd been wrong before.
Of course he was a Jersey boy, but Warren kept that thought to himself. The whole New York/New Jersey thing was just in his blood, he couldn't help it. "Nailed it. Which is probably for the best, because I don't think the wings would fit into those jackets. I'm sorta disappointed tales of my Park exploits didn't make it as far as Newark though. I gotta try harder."
"It might have; depends when it was," Tommy admitted reluctantly. Bluff through it, or admit that he'd been under lockdown of the worst sort? Middle path. "I've been out of the loop for a while."
"Gotcha." Warren didn't press, because he never did, because he was polite. That didn't mean he didn't wonder, though. "The Prof come find you, too? He showed up and told me I was gonna get myself killed trying to be a hero. Okay, not in those words, but that's what he meant." And he probably hadn't been wrong, which was part of why Warren was here. Part.
Yeah, he’d come. Three months too late, when Tommy had already done all the hard work himself. “Yeah. Sort of. Not exactly those words,” he half-grinned, anger underneath it that he pushed as far back down as he could. “But I wasn’t exactly doing the hero thing, either. Do you figure you’re going to go back to it once you get your Xavier Seal of Approval?”
Warren shrugged, feathers ruffling as his wings echoed the gesture slightly. "Not sure about the seal of approval thing, but yeah. I mean, I can fly. I should do something with it." That wasn't the half of it, but Tommy didn't need--or even want, Warren was sure--to know all that.
Tommy looked him over, then shrugged. "Worse comes to worst," he grinned wickedly, "there's always Victoria's Secret."
"Now that would be a great gig. Eat your heart out, Giselle. Wonder if Tom Brady would date me..."
Tommy took the span of time he needed to blink and reframe. Either Warren was carrying on the joke, or he batted for the other team, or both... eh. Maybe he hadn't been hitting on Kitty at the pizza party after all. He snorted his disdain at Warren's taste. "Brady? I guess. If you want a guy who's only into handling soft balls."
"Kidding dude. I'm a Giants fan. Come on." Warren smirked.
Tommy groaned the groan of the long-suffering, and rolled his eyes. "Of course you fucking are. And I'm not even going to bother asking about the others, because if you don't have Yankees and Knicks season tickets in the pocket of your private school fancy jacket, I'll eat my hat."
"Nope, but only because I gave up my Yankees tickets when I went away to school the first time." Warren smirked, having a good idea of what Tommy was thinking. "Otherwise you'd be right.
"But lately I'm more appreciative of an underdog, so I might switch allegiances. Not to the Jets, though. Never the Jets."
Tommy sighed dramatically. "What kind of hero could you possibly be if you're not willing to live with a little pain?"
Warren snorted out a laugh. "I think you have a future as a hero coach. You should at least write a book. If the mutant population keeps exploding, you could make millions."
Tommy cracked his knuckles and linked his hands behind his head, sprawling out further. "There we go; the problem of career post-mutant high has been solved. Tommy Shepherd, life guru. It's got a good sound to it."
"I'll be your first client," Warren promised with a grin.
Yessssss, time for some Super Smash Brothers! Warren grabbed the Wiimote and slid into the couch sideways so he could tuck his wings over the arm of the couch, grinning maniacally. More fun if someone was there to melee with him, but hey. Dark Pit was about to get some use out of those wings....
And Tommy'd been beaten to the lounge again; damn summer school classes anyway. On the plus side, getting the chance to flatten half the student body (even if it was one at a time) was doing wonders for his reputation. "Smash Brothers?" he asked, strolling in, hands in his pockets. "I'll jump in on that. Unless you're dead set on losing to the AI."
"Never gonna happen," Warren said with a grin. Oh, right, the good-looking mouthy kid. Tim? Tam? Tom? Warren would have to ask, he guessed. For the moment, though, there was shit to talk. "But you're welcome to step in and steal defeat from the AI, if you're feeling masochistic."
"It's almost like you know me," Tommy cracked, already halfway across the room to pick up another controller. "But I'll leave the humiliation of public loss to you. I'm generous that way."
"Big talk," Warren said with an easy laugh. "Let's see it, then--sorry, what's your name again? I'm Warren."
"Tommy." He grabbed a controller and headed back toward the armchair. "Shepherd," he added, in case the school had added another Thomas while he wasn't looking. Given the rate at which he was meeting new people the last few weeks, it wouldn't entirely surprise him. "You're the one who got into it with Bobby over bathroom pranks on the school blog," he put the pieces together with a grin. "Good to attach a person to the handle."
Warren barked out a laugh. "Got into it is a little strong. Tell the truth, I think it'd do Tam some good to have a more--uh, authentic high school experience. Including pranks. I only took issue with it being in the showers--and only until I realized it was actually a proportionate response."
"Tam -- he's the one studying us, isn't he?" Tommy's mouth twisted in irritation and not a little annoyance. Not that he'd met the guy face to face; the moment the gossip had started going around, he'd made damn sure to make himself scarce. At least the dude wasn't in class with him. He'd have been a lot harder to avoid. "Whatever you do to him, I'm sure it's deserved."
He flung himself into the chair and draped his legs over one arm. "Alright - let's get this show on the road," he changed the subject abruptly. "Character selection?"
Warren observed Tommy's reaction, but was too polite to ask questions. He just filed it away as potentially important. "Dark Pit. Always. Love me some Kid Icarus." Obviously. Warren hopped to his winged wonder and selected it.
Tommy snorted a laugh. "Somehow I should've guessed." And he consciously let his irritation go. Now normally he'd main Kirby, just because people tended to go ballistic in amazingly entertaining ways when they got owned by a pink balloon. But in this case... "if we've got a theme going on," Tommy said aloud, and he grabbed Sonic, a grin re-emerging on his face. "Gotta go fast?"
"Oh dude, it is on." Warren smirked, certain he could beat that uncontrollable little jerk Sonic. Tails was better anyhow.
Tommy sagged back into the chair, his fingertips dancing over the controller with practiced ease. He needed to talk to Kitty about that controller she'd promised to hack together for him, but for the moment this one would do. "I guess I don't need to ask what brought you to mutant high," he mentioned casually, setting up one his favourite combos as he did. "Did you get anything else cool along with the wings?"
"Improved sight, cool bone structure, and proportionately wild strength," Warren said, biting at his lip. He came out strong, landing an immediate electroshock deal, but Tommy countered with one of those off-the-wall-ball attacks and Dark Pit went flying. Dammit. "But mostly it's just stuff that makes the wings work instead of being useless and pretty. What about you? Speed bonuses?"
"Like that's not slick enough on its own?" Tommy grinned wide. "But wait, there's more." He bounced Sonic into range and went for the up smash, catching the winged kid for a decent amount of damage before he could recover. "Molecular acceleration. I accelerate myself, and I go fast. When I accelerate other things, they blow up. Offensive and defensive in one sweet all-around package."
"Oh, dammit," Warren swore under his breath as Pittoo was knocked off the screen by that little blue ball of speed. He came back, swinging his double-bladed sword, then tried to execute a throw as Sonic got closer... and just ended up getting rolled over again. "That does sound pretty slick," he said, all sincerity in spite of his game frustration. "But, I mean, I got the anime dream-guy look with mine--so I've been told--so there's that too. Which is less destructive, but pretty useful."
“You’re going to bat those baby blues at the bad guys and hope they swoon long enough to forget why they were after you?” Tommy asked, looking him over. Yeah, he had the whole clean-cut Abercrombie and Fitch thing happening, but Tommy – definitely way on the other end of the Jock Boy spectrum – had never had that much trouble finding dates either. “Or are you going to carry a bag of cherry blossoms to drop at opportune moments?”
He was distracted and Warren got a hit in; Tommy bounced Sonic out of the way of a second one, clobbered him on the way out and just for shits and giggles, he punched in a taunt. “You’re too slow,” his avatar declared smugly.
"Always worked before," Warren said easily. He was only sort of being flippant. He'd been raised to charm and disarm, after all, but also it was just funny. "But the cherry blossom thing is a great idea, now you mention it. When I start heroing again I'll give that a shot."
And then Dark Pit went flying, hit the "camera lens" and flattened out, then slid down and dropped off the screen. "Oh that's it." He grinned as another Dark Pit reappeared, floating over the arena.
Tommy snickered. “If you make it a trademark, I get a cut of your merchandising.” But something else Warren had mentioned stuck with him. “What kind of heroing were you doing? Helping lost cats across roads and getting old ladies out of trees?”
Warren actually got in a good slicing attack, but got knocked back by the stupid ball of blue again. He laughed out loud at it, this time. The writing was on the wall, man. "Pretty sure I got an old lady out of a tree at least once. But, you know. Your standard dickheads in Central Park. Would be muggers, various assaults, selling hard drugs to kids. Actually, one drug dealer, I put in a tree. That was fun."
"No shit," Tommy replied with a laugh, mashing the B button and charging up his next move. "It sounds like you had quite the racket going on. What happened? Did you piss off the wrong rent a cop?"
"Cops couldn't catch me," Warren admitted with a grin, trying to jump over what he knew was coming but felt inevitable all the same. "And it's not a racket if you turn in the money. But I'm here to get better. Smarter about it. That kind of--ah, dammit!"
"Better focus on getting faster reflexes," Tommy advised sagely, Sonic doing his thing to beautiful -- and painful -- effect. And he set off the taunt again, because he was feeling good and Warren was a better sport than he'd originally predicted. "All the pretty blue eyes in the world won't help you if you get smacked down before you get close enough to bat them."
"Hey, this was never a problem before I met speedsters," Warren said with a snort and a chuckle. "That little bastard, taunt me, huh?" Warren went in for the slam.
Whoops -- Tommy was fast enough but the controller wasn't, damn the stupid thing anyway! -- and his dodge lagged a second too slow. No worries, he had this; he wasn't going to have to eat his words. One hit - even a good one - wasn't enough to take him completely down and out. "Recover, you little lagging motherfucker-" he muttered darkly. "Once Kitty gets a real controller happening around here..." There, finally! Sonic was up and out and rolling back at Dark Pit in the mood to do some serious damage.
"Gotta keep up with the world, hero," Tommy finally actually replied cheerfully enough, his shoulders relaxing as his frustration ebbed. "Things are changing."
There was no time left, and Sonic was coming. Warren tried to slice, but the blue ball of fury knocked Pittoo over and--yep. Time was up. Warren laughed. "That's what I get for using the evil clone. Okay you got me. That time.
"And thanks for the tip, man. I was totally thinking of becoming set in my ways and never learning any thing new at the age of 16. You've converted me." He was smirking a little, but his eyes were bright and he was definitely amused.
Tommy snickered in reply. "It's a game-changer," he joked right back. "Between that and the cherry blossoms, that's two you owe me for now."
"You're a mercenary," Warren said, dropping the controller and holding up his hands in defeat. "I can respect that. Even if it means paying you royalties now and then. The cherry blossoms are worth it."
"A man's gotta make a living somehow." Well, maybe this guy didn't, given his general look, but Tommy sure as hell was going to need to.The allowance in the school's welcome package for homeless headcases like him would only last so long. And now he was thinking about serious things when he was supposed to be putting in some solid goofing-off time. He needed to cut that out.
"If you were taking out bad guys in Central park, that must make you a local boy. Local-ish," Tommy amended.
Warren chuckled at the observation about making a living. So his father kept reminding him, though "making a living" was entirely different in Warren Jr.'s mind than in most people's, seeing as it meant "run my company exactly the way I would when I'm dead."
"Upper West Side, born and mostly raised." Not like there was any point in hiding it. "You?"
"I should've guessed," Tommy snorted, but not unkindly. "Let me guess; this is the first school you've been to that doesn't have a uniform." As for himself... not like he could pretend to be from anywhere other than he was. "Newark. I'm a Jersey boy." And from right down the other end of the socioeconomic scale, but hopefully Warren wouldn't turn out to be a total snob. He didn't seem like it, but Tommy'd been wrong before.
Of course he was a Jersey boy, but Warren kept that thought to himself. The whole New York/New Jersey thing was just in his blood, he couldn't help it. "Nailed it. Which is probably for the best, because I don't think the wings would fit into those jackets. I'm sorta disappointed tales of my Park exploits didn't make it as far as Newark though. I gotta try harder."
"It might have; depends when it was," Tommy admitted reluctantly. Bluff through it, or admit that he'd been under lockdown of the worst sort? Middle path. "I've been out of the loop for a while."
"Gotcha." Warren didn't press, because he never did, because he was polite. That didn't mean he didn't wonder, though. "The Prof come find you, too? He showed up and told me I was gonna get myself killed trying to be a hero. Okay, not in those words, but that's what he meant." And he probably hadn't been wrong, which was part of why Warren was here. Part.
Yeah, he’d come. Three months too late, when Tommy had already done all the hard work himself. “Yeah. Sort of. Not exactly those words,” he half-grinned, anger underneath it that he pushed as far back down as he could. “But I wasn’t exactly doing the hero thing, either. Do you figure you’re going to go back to it once you get your Xavier Seal of Approval?”
Warren shrugged, feathers ruffling as his wings echoed the gesture slightly. "Not sure about the seal of approval thing, but yeah. I mean, I can fly. I should do something with it." That wasn't the half of it, but Tommy didn't need--or even want, Warren was sure--to know all that.
Tommy looked him over, then shrugged. "Worse comes to worst," he grinned wickedly, "there's always Victoria's Secret."
"Now that would be a great gig. Eat your heart out, Giselle. Wonder if Tom Brady would date me..."
Tommy took the span of time he needed to blink and reframe. Either Warren was carrying on the joke, or he batted for the other team, or both... eh. Maybe he hadn't been hitting on Kitty at the pizza party after all. He snorted his disdain at Warren's taste. "Brady? I guess. If you want a guy who's only into handling soft balls."
"Kidding dude. I'm a Giants fan. Come on." Warren smirked.
Tommy groaned the groan of the long-suffering, and rolled his eyes. "Of course you fucking are. And I'm not even going to bother asking about the others, because if you don't have Yankees and Knicks season tickets in the pocket of your private school fancy jacket, I'll eat my hat."
"Nope, but only because I gave up my Yankees tickets when I went away to school the first time." Warren smirked, having a good idea of what Tommy was thinking. "Otherwise you'd be right.
"But lately I'm more appreciative of an underdog, so I might switch allegiances. Not to the Jets, though. Never the Jets."
Tommy sighed dramatically. "What kind of hero could you possibly be if you're not willing to live with a little pain?"
Warren snorted out a laugh. "I think you have a future as a hero coach. You should at least write a book. If the mutant population keeps exploding, you could make millions."
Tommy cracked his knuckles and linked his hands behind his head, sprawling out further. "There we go; the problem of career post-mutant high has been solved. Tommy Shepherd, life guru. It's got a good sound to it."
"I'll be your first client," Warren promised with a grin.
