Fizzing

[Elsa Bellefonte]

Elsa was certain that this machine had it in for her. She glared at it, glared as if her power could actually force the machine to give her what it wanted. That might have worked had this been a person instead of a machine, though Elsa probably would've had to blackmail an actual person to get them to work. Pity that you couldn't blackmail machines, especially soda dispensing machines. It was one of those fountain soda machines, the kind which required cups. Originally Elsa had been against installing such a thing, though she'd only been about seven or so at the time, not even a real student here, not yet. Still, it had sounded unhealthy.

Now she just wanted the damn thing to produce her raspberry tea.

"Come on," she mumbled, tapping the correct lever with her insulated cup. It sputtered and spat, fizzed out some stuff, but produced nothing. Elsa sighed now. then she began smacking the machine with the palm of her hand. That wasn't working. Well, Elsa would be damned if she'd let a machine show her up. So she walked over to where she knew there were some milk-crates and dragged them over. These she crawled atop of, balancing carefully as she leaned over the machine. It didn't take long for her to jimmy it open, and soon she was staring at a tangle of wires.

Elsa thought she saw the problem: a kink in the hose that led to the raspberry tea. Smiling triumphantly, she leaned forward, jiggling the hose a few times, determined to get this to work properly. She twisted, turned...

and the milk crates gave out. So Elsa naturally grabbed the first thing that came to hand, which happened to be the hoses, which really weren't that attached. So she slammed into the machine, instantly feeling the bruise on her knee, and then, just as her feet touched the ground, Elsa felt the hose give way. It gave, and Elsa had a moment to hear the rush. She closed her eyes just in time as a spray of fizzing liquid sprayed at her. She stood for several seconds, just letting it hit, before reaching up to brush the liquid from her face. She blinked, and through her hazy, liquid splattered vision, she saw that someone had shown up, either to watch or help, Elsa wasn't sure which.

"Don't," she told Riley, holding up a finger in his direction. "Just. Don't."

[Riley Coleson]

Running a hand through his wet, chopped hair, Riley pulled the bag over his shoulder and exited the locker room with a sigh. It was one of those days where he had far too much energy and just couldn't rid himself of it. Even football practice didn't seem to work. Sure, he noticed that he wasn't as energetic as he had been before it, but still; It was almost like it hadn't helped at all. Sticking his hand into the pocket of his grey sweatpants and headed down the hall.

Everything considered, it was a good day; It didn't have much to do with the fact that it was his birthday or anything. It was calm; No drama and no calls from his mother. Which Riley considered as a plus, since he didn't prefer her drunken calls all that much. Besides, after celebrating your birthday 18 times, the 19th didn't really seem all that important anymore.

Kalilah had sent him a text though, and that had actually been really nice. Riley adored his baby sister and he could easily admit that she was the most important person in his life. He only wished he could have made life easier for her, but from what he'd gathered, their mother wasn't as though on the young girl as she had been with Riley. Then again, their mother did blame Riley for his father bailing, and he didn't share the same dad with Kalilah; So there was that.

However, Riley's thoughts got distracted by one of the Bellefonte princesses climbing on top of some crates to lean over the soda dispensing machine. He hoped it was the less cranky one, though someone told him he wasn't that lucky. Drawing closer, Riley cocked his head to the side as he watched the brunette pull at something, only to lose her footing and... Well, then something rather wonderful happened.

Casually walking over to the now drained young girl, Riley had to press his lips together to avoid his face from breaking into a smug grin; She didn't have to say anything, because her grumpy aura was basically pouring all over the place. Ironic, right? And then she lifted her finger at him; Nodding, the boy rubbed the back of his neck. It was actually surprisingly hard to keep a straight face. Especially when she looked like that.

Letting his bag slip to the floor, the hulk crouched down, unzipped it and started rummaging through its contents. Pulling out his spare, unused towel, Riley stood again and handed it over, ''Here, this should help, if even a little,'' he shrugged, ''And no, it's not used.''

[Elsa Bellefonte]

Well, now he definitely looked like someone with superstrength, at least as much as someone could without looking like Slade Konrad. Though he was definitely not someone that Elsa wanted to see right now. She wouldn't have placed him as the "last" person, but he definitely would've been in the bottom three or so. Didn't stop her from mumbling a thanks and taking the offered towel. She'd been wearing a loose floral blouse over a black camisole. The blouse was definitely soaked, but Elsa had hopes for the cami. She pulled the wet garment a little away from her, while at the same time taking a step away from the machine. It sprayed more liquid for a little bit more, before flopping against the side of the machine, looking like, well, a spent hose.

"Thank you for the towel," she said, attempting to wring her garment and hoping incredibly strongly that the expensive fabric hadn't been ruined. "I take it you came from... practice," she looked over at him, running her eyes over him. What kind of sport would someone with superstrength play in the spring or summer? Basketball and football were out, though Elsa supposed he could've been playing one or the other for fun. There was also football training in the summer, right? So probably football, maybe baseball. Definitely not soccer. "So was it football or baseball?" she asked, arching her brows and dabbing. The hose gurgled again, and Elsa looked over her shoulder at it.

"It wasn't giving me my tea," she said by way of explanation, looking back at Riley and outright daring him to say anything about it.

[Riley Coleson]

Riley let his eyes travel to the miserable looking machine; Poor thing, what had it ever done to deserve such a rough treatment? He wasn't sure if he even wanted to know, but that was all he could do - or look at to prevent himself from laughing at the comical sight of the soaked brunette next to him. Hey, at least he was trying, and that ought to count for something, right? Right.

''You're welcome,'' he replied, a faint smile caressing his lips. Her next question he simply nodded at and let his eyes drop back to the back, as if the thing alone stated the obvious. His outfit probably did too; With the grey sweatpants and the white tank top. And he considered it a win that she had yet to confuse him for being something or someone else, like a spy and she didn't try to kill him either, so there. ''Football; I haven't played baseball in quite some time,'' he mused, though maybe he should have? He didn't have much besides swimming, football and dance to keep him energy levels down, and he had enough free time to join at least another club.

''So you slaughtered it?'' he asked. This time he couldn't keep the amused smirk off of his lips. He cast the machine another glance before walking over; Making sure his face wasn't in the dangerzone, he put both of his arms against it and dipped it sideways, slowly gazing at the top of it, ''Wow,'' was all he managed to mutter at the massacre before him.

''Remind me to never let you touch my playstation,'' he mused.

[Elsa Bellefonte]

Elsa continued giving him a placid look as he smiled at her. She had to hand it to him, this was actually somewhat chivalrous and such. Of course, she'd already done some research on  "Riley" between their meetings, which gave her mixed results. She kept those locked away in the back of her mind, wanting to see if the actual proved as close to reality.

Played football, which wasn't surprising. Not playing baseball was a little though: "You should consider it. Superstrength would certainly come into play there. What with the hitting," which was about the extent of Elsa's baseball knowledge, admittedly. But she figured that someone who could literally hit the ball into a nearby county could probably fare pretty well at the sport in more general terms.

Apparently he specialized in diagnosing soda machines too. Elsa rolled her eyes at the comment. 'Yes, you got it right. I ruthlessly slaughter machines that displease me. That's actually my real ability. I manifest gremlins," she turned and looked up at the machine as he tilted it, wincing. "I don't believe you're supposed to do that," she said, her eyes flicking to the various valves and such that were connected. There were hoses and tubes and the like, which had apparently been disconnected with the whole falling thing.

"I don't suppose you specialize in actually fixing these sort of things?" she asked, looking over at him. People had skill sets besides their mutant powers at least, most did. Surely Riley had to have something going for him besides his looks.

[Riley Coleson]

''I don't really enjoy using my ability for my own gain, especially not when it comes to sports. It kills the fun,'' he said, shrugging again. Sure, with a power that was constantly on, it was sort of hard to avoid it, but at least he tried. Constantly having to hold back like that was extremely tiring; And it was easy to slip up. But what could you do, right? He had to pick one or the other evil and he had chosen to pick the hard way. ''Iunno, running mindlessly after a ball seems more like my kind of thing,'' he said with a goofy smile.

It was surprisingly easy to be this honest with this girl. Riley found it almost... Amusing. He didn't worry about how he sounded, whether or not he was making an ass of himself or if he was boasting too much or too little. It was refreshing in a way. It was... Easy.

''I don't know about that,'' he began, turning to look at the brunette over his shoulder, ''I'd imagine you manifesting something a little cuter than a gremlin.'' It wasn't a pick up line or him flirting by far; It was the truth. Even with her grumpy attitude and next to no sense of humor, or even charm, the girl still managed to appear even somewhat adorable, and adorable things... Well, he'd rather imagine furbies. They seemed more like her kind of thing. He turned his attention back towards the machine and reached his hand down, feeling his way through the loose cables and icky wet stuff.

Holding up one of the cabled between his fingers, Riley sighed, ''Well, technically all I'd need to do is put these things back in their place, but it all comes down to whether or not you actually damaged them.'' He let the machine drop further down, shifting his weight towards where the machine was leaning against his left arm, ''Why did you even decide to mess with it if you didn't know what you were doing? Why not ask someone for help?'' Again, she didn't strike him as the person who asked anyone for help. She seemed to be too proud.

[Elsa Bellefonte]

Elsa rolled her eyes at the idea of using their abilities being cheating. She certainly didn't see it that way; she had the ability, she should use it, just like if someone happened to be better at sports or what have you. When he mentioned taking the fun out of it... that she understood. After all, it had practically been her excuse for not instantly raping his mind when they'd first met. The self-deprecating humor almost had Elsa smiling... almost. though to be fair, it was mostly the whole wearing a soaked shirt that was dampening her humor.

Cuter things? "If that's flirting, you're awful at it," she informed him, guessing that was the point. "And I'd like to point out that gremlins are adorable creatures. Haven't you seen the movie? I wanted one when I was a kid," or to at least name a creature Gizmo, though the Bellefontes were most certainly not pet people. Elsa had gotten over that phase by now, which was ironic, seeing as she could've easily kept one stashed away in her room now.

Pets were far from Elsa's mind as Riley looked over the damage she'd accidentally done. All he needed to do was put them together. "You sure you can reach them?' she asked, not even doubting that he could manage it. "And it's not as if I did it on purpose. The crates slipped and I reacted," which reminded Elsa that she'd banged herself against it. She reached down, prodding at her thigh, wincing and barely suppressing a hiss of pain at the sore response. Definitely bruised. wonderful. And all she'd wanted was some tea.

[Riley Coleson]

''What?'' he turned to look at her again. Flirting? With her? Yeah, right. ''No offense, Sparrow, but I don't think we're each other's type,'' he said, smiling softly as he again turned his attention towards the machine. ''And yeah, I have. But those creatures were anything but cute, unless you count the white one. The one who actually had hair.'' He couldn't remember the name. He hadn't seen those movies in a very long time. Heck, he'd probably not seen it since he was, what seven?

Trying to slide one of the hoses back to where it belonged; This thing was fairly easy to operate since they were separated by colors; A rubber band around each symboled where they went. ''Myeah, I should be able to handle it,'' he said slowly, screwing the hose in its correct place. ''Hey, I'm not judging; Venting is good, and it's better to take it out on something non-living.'' He placed another hose in its correct place, though he was starting to believe it wouldn't do them much good seeing as the entire surface, the hoses and well, everything was covered in slime, goo and whatever the other wet stuff was.

With a sigh, Riley let the machine drop back into it's original stance. Wiping his hands off on his pants he turned to face the brunette, ''Sorry, ma'am, it looks like your love won't survive. Do you want to keep him on bypass or would you like for us to... You know, cut the chord?''

Okay, that was lame. Really lame. Even he could see that; Making a grimace, the boy shook his head. ''That was lame. I apologize.''

[Elsa Bellefonte]

"I agree," said Elsa, though her tone was a good deal lighter than it had been last time she'd talked with Riley. They certainly didn't fit well together, at least romantically speaking. Which suited Elsa just fine: she really wasn't looking for a relationship at this point in time anyway. Thus she had no problem correcting him about the Gremlins: "They were all cute and adorable until someone broke the rules," she pointed out. Though, admittedly, she mostly knew of the Gremlins through an article that compared their developing to adolescent psychology, using them as a teaching tool. She certainly didn't think that Riley needed to know that.

He needed to know how to fix the machine, which he apparently did, more or less. Elsa nearly sighed with relief when he said he could patch it back up. "I wasn't venting: I just wanted some tea was all," she gestured toward the cup, and the gesture dragged her wet shirt over, well, her slightly less wet shirt. She sighed, debating taking it off. Somehow, she didn't relish the idea of removing clothing around Riley. Something told her he would say something and she didn't particularly want to hear it.

Just as she was debating just ordering him not to say something, he turned and spoke to her. Elsa looked up at him, blinking as he apparently talked about a love and surviving and... something? She blinked, not quite sure what the hell he was getting at precisely. Apparently it was a joke, given what he ended with. "Wow, that was supposed to be funny?" she said, nearly snorting. "No wonder you didn't use the word 'funny' when you described yourself the other day. Maybe you should just stick to fixing things and removing your clothes. That should work for most girls at any rate."

[Riley Coleson]

''They looked like a hairless crossbreed between a rat and a monkey,'' he pressed a little quicker than what was needed. Furrowing his brows, the boy sighed, ''You know what's adorable? Kittens. Kittens are adorable.'' Man, he was starting to sound like a hissy little child. Gawd, who'd know he'd ever sink so low he'd discuss something as idiotic as this with her? Yep, not him. ''And some rules are meant to be broken,'' he added, though he didn't turn to look at her. She didn't strike him as the type who willingly broke rules. Unless it gained her in some way, anyways.

''Whatever floats your boat,'' he said, shrugging. He didn't particularly care whether she had tried getting a drunk or have some form of sadistic sex with the machine. Though, the latter wouldn't have surprised him, oddly enough. Not that he could actually picturing someone as stuck up as her actually having sex with anyone or anything, but that was something he preferred not getting into.

''Not really,'' he shrugged. Though, her last words had him frowning; Either she had taken a lucky guess, read his mind somewhere along the road without him noticing or the Princess had done her homework. Either way, it left him a little baffled and maybe even... No, it did not matter. ''Yeah, I suppose you're right,'' he replied coldly, turning his gaze towards the bag. Approaching it, he stooped and zipped it shut in a swift movement. He wanted to just walk away and be done with this, whatever it was, for good. He didn't really need some stuck up bitch telling him what he already knew.

And yes, it did leave him feeling a little salty. He didn't think anyone particularly enjoyed being constantly bashed.

''Don't you ever get tired of being such a pretentious, judgemental bitch?'' he asked, looking up, ''Actually, don't answer that,'' he added quickly. Shaking his head, the boy turned back to his bag.

[Elsa Bellefonte]

Were they seriously arguing about the relative cuteness of Gremlins? Honestly? The mere thought of it baffled Elsa. The mention of kittens had her smiling and rolling her eyes though. She couldn't blame him: kittens were naturally adorable after all. She slightly preferred guinea pigs herself, since kittens could have attitude problems and felt so much more fragile. She focused on that rather than thinking about the idea that someone needed to break rules. They were there for a reason... though she couldn't help but think of a few that probably could be breaking. That probably wasn't what Riley was talking about though. He was just doing the whole general "I'm a badass rulebreaker" thing.

Apparently her last few comments had struck something. Elsa couldn't help but be amused by that: she hadn't even been trying; she'd merely been offering some comments and attempting to tease him. Elsa was tempted to start poking around, see what she'd done that had gotten him quite this upset. But again, that didn't feel... right somehow.

Though God knows why Elsa suddenly cared about that.

"Excuse me?" she managed as he commented. "What the hell did I say to deserve that? I know I'm a bitch, but--wait," she didn't want to say this, but she needed to. "Look, I really didn't mean to get to you," this time, " and I really need your help. I don't know how to fix this damn thing, and I can't have someone blaming it on me. It won't look good. So if you help me fix this, I'll," she sighed, nearly wincing as she said the next few words: "owe you one."

[Riley Coleson]

Riley rolled his eyes at her reaction and stood up, once again hoisting the bag over his shoulder. Tapping his foot absentmindedly against the floor, he finally turned his gaze towards her again. He waited for her to finish before interrupting her, however. ''That,'' he said, nodding towards the machine, ''Isn't something that can be fixed in five minutes. Especially not standing around here without the needed tools.'' Why was he even bothering? ''And if anyone asks, just tell them you saw a womanizing mutant with super strength trashing around the hall. There, you won't get blamed; Problem solved.''

Was he still salty? Yes, he was. But he'd get over it, and even though she was trying to be nice, it didn't really change the fact that she had been bashing him and prodding at him from their first meeting, and he might not have been the right person to complain about it as he wasn't much better, he was still the only one who seemed to be affected. It didn't make it right by any means, but it was enough to throw him off his game. Whatever his game was.

''I don't need you to owe me one, Sparrow. Besides, I don't see what you could possibly ever help me with.'' It was true; He really didn't see or even remotely understand how this trainwreck of a girl could ever be useful to him. He didn't need to be pushed up the social pyramid, he could do that fine on his own. And he didn't need money. Heck, he didn't need anything. He was pretty content with things as they were.

''But yeah, I'll take the blame.''

[Elsa Bellefonte]

"What?" managed Elsa as Riley replied. This was less directed toward his assessment of the damage and more directed toward his claim that she could just give him the blame. Problem solved. Then he had the sheer audacity to go on like being owed a favor wouldn't be something he wanted. who the hell didn't want a favor? That went double for a favor from someone like Elsa, who was, well, intelligent and very well connected. If nothing else, he could shove some homework at her and have her do it.

Instead, he kept repeating that he'd take the blame. "You will certainly not take the blame!" insisted Elsa. She moved to stand in front of him, holding up her hands to try and get him to stop walking away from the situation. "I broke this thing, not you, and I don't blame people for the errors I make, even if they are incredibly irritating," she looked over his shoulder at the machine, then back at him. "If we got tools, could you fix it? Is it something that you have the knowledge to fix? I could pay you if you really want. I've got enough money," Elsa hadn't led with that though, figuring that offering money would just get Riley, well, all riled up. She wasn't sure it wasn't going to have that affect now, but that didn't stop her from at least trying. It was that or she try calling in another favor, and that was an idea that held very little appeal.