nextgenerationmarvel | This Has Not Been the Field Trip He Signed Up For ((X-Adult First, Maybe More Later))

Current Mood: uncomfortable

Entry tags:

This Has Not Been the Field Trip He Signed Up For ((X-Adult First, Maybe More Later))

After Athos had been released from Murderworld, the ninja stealthily and silently went farther into New York City. Eventually the turtle found a nice park with some well-used benches. He sat down on one and tried to achieve utter stillness.

What Athos achieved instead was a transformation into a redheaded teenager sitting on a park bench. Pete looked around nervously. He wasn't sure where he was. Or where his chaperone was. He rubbed his hands together and watched life go by.

This place wasn't filled with mutants, but he still felt very alone. He wondered if there were even pay phones around any more. Though he wasn't sure who he would call.

So, he decided to sit there until someone found him or he got a better idea.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It'd been Franklin who had got the call in the end to bring Pete back home. There was a small flash of light and suddenly he was there, walking over to Pete and sitting on the bench with him.

"Are you okay?" Franklin asked, looking over at his student. "I'm here to take you back."

Pete looked uninjured, at least physically, but it was clear that he was under at least some stress.

Pete had blinked just at the time of the flash of light. He kind of felt something had happened, but he hadn't been sure what until there was a sudden Professor Richards in front of him.

The redhead yelped and tried to flip over the back of the bench to get away. Unfortunately, Pete was not any of his turtle forms. So he mostly flailed and put his hands up to protect his head.

When instant doom didn't rain down on him, he cracked open an eye and peaked through a small gap in his arms.

"Uh, hi?"

"Hey." Franklin replied with a faint, reassuring smile. "Sorry about the lightshow. But you know, I hate the traffic in New York."

"Are you ready to go back now?" Franklin asked, in the calmest voice he could. "Don't worry, I'm not Kurt. The teleportation isn't physically disorienting in the slightest."

He slowly uncurled himself from his almost fetal position in the corner of the bench. He went a little paler at the thought of teleportation.

He wondered if he could find a wise rat and go live in the sewer. "Does... Does it stink like Mr. Wagners?"

Being naked in a shower near other mutants was never a comfortable experience. He usually turned into a turtle even approaching a shower room. He assumed the turtles bathed because he never really stank.

"Nope. No smell at all." Franklin replied. "Unless of course, you'd like a burst of refreshing orange scent or something. Maybe I could do something there."

It wouldn't have been surprising to Franklin that Pete would be shy like that- he certainly didn't have much love for communal showers either. Thankfully, being a teacher, he had the incredible privilege of an ensuite bathroom.

"I'm ready to go when you are, Pete." Franklin said with a smile.

"Uh, no thanks. I don't like smelling edible." He swallowed a bit before getting up from the bench.

He was upright for all of five seconds before he started nervously toeing the ground. "Ready whenever."

He had nowhere else to go.

Franklin put his hand reassuringly on Pete's shoulder and the next thing they knew, they were back at the Mansion, as if they'd just walked in the front door. True to what he'd said, there'd be no physical side effects, though it might have been disorienting to so suddenly find oneself in a completely different physical location.

"Home sweet home." He looked over at Pete. "If you want to talk about what happened, you can. But if you'd rather have a rest or something first ..."

"Guess it is now," he mumbled more to himself. He wasn't awed by the big mansion surrounded by buildings going up at a quick pace for the school's fall semester. He just looked at it all like he was going to prison.

"Athos handled most of it. I closed my eyes and hummed when I woke up while he was attacked by devil robots."

Edited 2014-09-29 00:11 (UTC)

"If there's anything I can do to make this feel more like somewhere you want to be, Pete, you just ask, okay?" Franklin replied, sincerely. "Even if I have to get Hana to bake a special, specific kind of cupcake every day." His expression turned to a smile for a moment before becoming a little more serious when Pete told him about what had happened.

"I'm very, very glad he did. We'll find out more about what happened, I promise you.

Is there anything you need right now?"

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to being a..." he gestured in the air to try to find the right unoffensive word to use. He came up with nothing, so he finished lamely with "... mutant. A weird mutant."

The kind that gets dropped out of things like a family because he's so freaky.

"I-I was out shopping with Dani. So, uhm, make sure she knows? ... and maybe a cupcake."

"We're all weird here." Franklin replied warmly. "I know what it's like to want to be normal. And how easy it is to say that 'normal is boring'." Franklin was the last person to criticize someone for feeling weird or freakish. For him, it'd been less his mutation and more to do with his struggles with depression.

"We'll let her know. As for the cupcake, let's get into the kitchen and see what's around. Maybe we can even dragoon one of the cooking people into whipping something up for you."

Dolemeck was in the kitchen, using his powers to help aid him in making a small cake for himself. It had been a rough night for him, and he desperately needed something sweet to take his mind off of it. Just as he began mixing the cake batter, he looked up to see Professor Franklin and Pete walk in.

"Pete, are you okay? I was worried about you!" He had heard he had gone missing, and was truly worried for his friend... err... friends. His mind was able to keep stirring the bowl, unattended while he made his way over to Professor Franklin and Pete. "Is everything okay? Is there something I can do?"

It was the promise of food to an ever-hungry teenage boy that got Pete to the kitchen. The Cafeteria lady had always been nice (and a little weird with only four fingers), but he didn't want to feel like he was intruding.

Mostly because there were knives in the kitchen. And whisks. He didn't want to be the first guy in history to have a severe whisk injury.

But he stopped just inside the door. He blinked at Dolemeck. "Uh..."

Totally not who he expected in the kitchen.

"Make a cake for two, and you'll be the hero of the hour, Dolemeck." Franklin replied with a smile. He wasn't a natural in the kitchen, though he knew how to do basic cooking for himself. As for himself, he fully intended to root through the kitchen to get some leftovers.

There was roast chicken from last night. That'd make an awfully nice sandwich, he figured.

"Aye, I can do that, Professor Franklin." he nodded to Professor Franklin and returned to the area where he had been cooking. He looked a bit confused by Pete's reaction towards him, and figured it was best not to say anything more. He doubled the recipe he was making, so that there would be two cakes instead of just on.

Once he had whisked the batter up to a smooth consistency, Dolemeck began pouring it into two small cake tins. He carefully used his powers to float them into the oven and set the timer. While they were baking, he began to clean up the counter he had been cooking at.

"I am just thankful you are back, Pete." When he finally spoke to Pete, he sounded a bit quiet. "Umm... do you want me to make you a flavored frosting? I was going to make orange cream for myself."

Pete wasn't remotely aware of anyone's confusion. He was focused on the internal struggle he always had with himself to not bolt from the room.

"Chocolate frosting, please. And, uh, thanks." He stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets due to lack of anything else to do with them.

Franklin, in the meantime, was busy fishing out ingredients to make himself a sandwich out of the leftover chicken.

"Pete, do you want a sandwich too?" He figured that if he still knew what it was like to be a teenage boy, he'd probably want more than just a cake. He knew that Pete was extremely shy and wary of crowds. Hopefully things would go okay here.

It was hard to tell if he was shellshocked from what had happened or if he was simply being timid, as he usually was. In either case, though, it was good for him to be out and interacting with others, even if it was haltingly.

"Aye, I can make you that." Dolemeck gave a nod of his head, hearing Pete's request for chocolate frosting. He took the now clean batter bowl and placed it back on the counter, while he looked for the frosting mix in the cupboard. He also used his telekinetic powers to float over some bread from the bread box for Professor Franklin.

Dolemeck began to work on on whipping up a nice, fluffy frosting for the cake. He did not even bother to make the orange cream frosting that he wanted. Pete looked like he needed the cakes more than he did.

"Uhm." Pete's stomach rumbled audibly. He clapped a hand on it and winced. That was loud. Possibly too loud. "Sure. Sandwich could work."

While the other two were being industrious, he tried to scout out a wall or counter out of the way he could lean against.

"One sandwich coming up." Franklin started assembling sandwiches. "Pete, are you more of a mayo or a mustard kind of guy?" He cut up lettuce and tomatoes, and got a bit of the deli-sliced ham from the fridge as well. A little ham did wonders for a chicken sandwich.

Franklin was looking over at that cake, and realized, that he probably should've arbitrarily demanded one for himself. Ah, the perils of adult responsibility.

It was probably just as well that he didn't partake.

The cake appeared to bake rather quickly. Then again, the kitchen at the mansion was impressive and high tech. Dolemeck opened the oven, using a toothpick to test the cakes inside. They were almost ready!

"These should be finished in another five minutes. Would you like some cherries on top of the cake? perhaps a strawberry?" He smiled, looking back towards Pete and then Professor Franklin.

"Mustard." Pete did not trust the goopy white blandness of mayo. He had it in a grilled cheese once. Never again.

He left out a breath slowly. And then he glanced around to make sure none of those giant mutant-hating robots were going to fall through the ceiling. It distracted him slightly from Dolemeck's question.

"Wha? Oh. No fruit, please."

Franklin was down with mayo, but on a grilled cheese? That was blasphemous. No wonder he was soured on the condiment.

Franklin noticed Pete looking around. He was pretty sure the poor kid was going to need ... more counselling, as if he didn't have enough problems in his life. At least he was safe now.

He finished up the sandwich, cut it diagonally, and handed it over to Pete. "There's chips in the pantry if you want some, too."

With much care, Dolemeck removed the cakes from the oven with his powers. He took care in setting them down on the counter, smiling at how they came out. He began to ice the mini cakes, then put them each on a plate with some powdered sugar as a garnish.

"Okay, one cake with extra chocolate frosting!" Smiling with pride over his work. He floated one cake over to Pete, and the other to Professor Franklin. But that smile soon faded as his phone began to ring. He took it out of his pocket, looked at the number, then silenced it. Dolemeck turned around and began to focus on cleaning the mess in the kitchen, so Hana would not box his ears for leaving it a mess!

Getting Pete into actual counseling would be the miracle. Turtle interruptus happened often.

"Okay," he responded to Franklin. He tread carefully to the pantry. He tried to find some barbeque chips without messing up the nice, pink lunch lady's food storage room.

He felt a nervous tremor in his chest and rubbed it. He just wanted to eat. The trembling stopped, and he snatched the bag of chips.

He came scooting out of the pantry. Pete glanced at the cakes. "They look good. Thanks."

If he was polite, the mutants wouldn't eat him, right?

The mutants would not eat Pete.

Franklin grabbed his own sandwich and took a bite. "Dolemeck, I thought the other cake was for you! Don't let me steal your hard work away from you." Though he had to admit that cake looked pretty good. But too many of those, and he was going to ruin his figure, and that'd make Katie mad.

He wondered if Doc Samson had any time these days. Pete had a lot of serious issues to work at.

"I doubt you're too worried about it right now, Pete, but you got an A on the paper you submitted before you went away. Good work."

"It is okay, Professor Franklin." He gave a gentle smile to him and Pete. "You both look like you could use cake more than I. Enjoy them!"

It did not take him long to clean up the mess he had made in the kitchen. He washed everything out, dried them with a towel, and placed each item back where it belonged. All with his telekinetic powers. Hopefully Hana would be happy that he washed everything out in the sink, and not just the items he used.

With his leg braces creaking a bit, Dolemeck walked over to take a seat by Franklin and Pete. He rested his cast on the table and just smiled.

"It is nice to be able to talk to you, Pete. You are the only other bloke my age I know in the school, currently. I was hoping that perhaps we could hang out sometime and become friends."

Pete smiled slightly at his grade. At least his school work didn't suffer. Or his school work that didn't apply to being a mutant. "Thank you, Mr. Richards."

He opened the bag of chips and poured some out next to his plate. Then he ate all his food like he hadn't eaten since he disappeared. Or it was a typical case of teenage boy hunger.

"There's Topher. Around somewhere," he pointed out quietly. Though Topher was completely inured to the whole being a mutant. Pete scratched his eyebrow. "I don't make my schedules."

"Thank you, it was a pleasure to read." Franklin replied with an easy smile, taking a few of the left-over chips and putting them on his plate. Not too many, though, or then he'd lose that trim figure Katie liked so well.

He watched the two boys talk, hoping that Dolemeck wouldn't be too aggressive in seeking Pete's friendship. Not that Pete didn't need friends- he did desperately, but he wasn't going to respond well to social forwardness.

Dolemeck realized his comments were somewhat ignored, so he decided to not pursue them. Instead, he sat slightly hunched over, looking a bit sheepish. Perhaps it was not wise to push Pete too much, especially since he just returned from going missing!

He decided to turn his attention to Professor Franklin, wanting to ask him a question.

"Professor Franklin? You once told me it might be possible to fix my spine, so I can walk again without the braces. I have been thinking about that a bit lately." Dolemeck looked up for a moment. "If possible, do you think I can get that surgery soon? If it is not too much trouble that is."

Pete hadn't ignored anything. That his explanation hadn't quite connected, short as it was, did not really bother him either. He was more focused on eating just about everything in front of him than on conversation.

He was diligently making sure he got every last crumb. It'd been awhile since he'd been the one to eat.

Franklin noticed that just about immediately and strategically diverted half of his sandwich onto Pete's plate.

"Don't worry, I can always make more."

It actually begged the question of how exactly food and nutrition worked between the turtles and Pete. One that he was sure Hank or someone else either knew or could find the answers for, but he was rather curious about ...

Edited 2014-10-13 19:42 (UTC)

Dolemeck became flustered, realizing Pete had not ignored him, that he was trying to get him to be friends with Topher instead.

"Well, Pete, even if you do not make your schedule... I do not mind waiting." He gave a small smile. "I mean, only if you want to be friends! You do not have to be, and I will not force you."

He gave out a sigh and returned his attention to Profession Franklin, wondering if his ability to walk was even a possibility, or just some silly fantasy.

Pete eyed the sandwich for a moment. Then he wolfed it down. He wiped his chin with his hand. He opened his mouth to reply except he burped. As it reverberated in the kitchen, his skin turned green and scaly.

In Pete's place was Porthos. "Duuuuuuuude."

The turtle scratched his neck and looked around. "Uh oh. Miss Blaire's wave."

"Dolemeck ... I'm really not the person to be asking about that, certainly not about when it can happen. That's really the responsibility of- somewhat, the Headmaster, but mostly, the medical staff at the Institute. I'm sorry, but I really can't give you a firm answer on that."

When Pete turned into Porthos, Franklin couldn't help but sigh slightly. Of course. It did help to distract a little from the awkward situation, though.

"Well, it was just you mentioned it and... I'm sorry. I will inquire with Head Mistress Ramsey when she is available." His eyes widened as he now saw Porthos in the place of Pete. That was quicker than expected, and he tried to remain calm.

"Good evening, Porthos." He tried to smile as best he could.

"Evenin', gentle dudes." He turned slowly to find the nearest exit. Once he found it, he stopped.

"I should drop out of this wave. Miss Blaire scares turtle-kind. She's the big kahuna of this place without a taste for our laisse faire eating 'tudes." He nodded to both.

"Hang loose, brahs." He headed toward the exit.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

This Has Not Been the Field Trip He Signed Up For ((X-Adult First, Maybe More Later))

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen

Re: Kitchen