20274/Bodies of Water

Bodies of Water
Date of Scene:	18 March 2025
Location:	Swimming Pool / Patio Deck (Xavier's School)
Synopsis:	When something seems amiss in the X-Mansion's pool, detective Drake is on the case! Shocking twists abound! And also some pretty pedestrian chit-chat. But there may yet be shenanigans in the near future!
Cast of Characters:	Drake Riley, Zandra Mitchell

---

Drake Riley has posed:
With the weather finally taking enough of a noticeable shift towards warmth, Drake couldn't be happier. Sure, he still has classes to tend to, and they're certainly not getting any easier, but the warm weather feels more like his native habitat on the west coast. Less layers to wear, more things to do, and overall just a more pleasant living experience. Classes even feel shorter!

This isn't the time for books or pouring over computer code, however. Drake's dutifully marching towards the pool with purpose. If it's open and treated, today will mark his first day this year of getting a swim in. But just on the off chance that it *isn't*, he's not venturing over pre-dressed for it. A pair of sturdy boots and jeans make up the lower half of his wardrobe, while the upper-half dares to go Usher-chic with only a breezy button-up worn open and loose around his torso.

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    Even with the weather a bit warmer than it has been, the pool isn't too busy at the moment. If it was, someone might have already dealt with the strange case of littering that's happened. It might be some sort of prank, or a sign of something more concerning, but there's a shiny blue women's one-piece swimsuit floating freely in the middle of the pool's sparkling surface. Its owner is nowhere to be seen.

    Of course, Xavier's Academy is likely prone to many daily mysteries, but the total absence of other students in the area does give a potentially unsettling cast to the situation.

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley rocks up to the pool's side to survey the quietly-sloshing recess, satisfied that it appears just fine! That is, until his gaze suddenly lands on the floating blue one-piece.

"Oh. Scandalous." Drake's wording is purely cheeky, easily attested by the wry half-smile tugging the corner of his lips. Leaning forward, he props his palms to his knees to gage the distance. He might be able to fish it out and spare someone their dignity, maybe. Or at the very least, get even juicier gossip. Because you better believe that's also a thing that runs rampant in an institute filled with teenagers.

"Looks like someone had a really good time." Beat. Upon reconsidering, he adds, "Or a really embarrassing one. Either way..."

As he narrates to himself, Drake turns to fetch a stick! It doesn't take long to find one suitable to his purposes, with woods conveniently nearby and all. Upon returning, he leans over again, lightly prodding with the tip to try to lure the swimsuit closer to him.

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    Rather obnoxiously, as Drake is leaning over with the stick, the surface of the pool ripples just a bit as though by some indistinct wind. The swimsuit floats just barely out of reach, almost as if out of spite. If he wants to get at it, it seems that he'll have to lean a bit further, or else start circling toward the other, deeper end of the pool.

Drake Riley has posed:
"A-awwh, come on now..," Drake tries to reason with the garment as it drifts further away from him, not unlike a stray animal shy of human contact. "Dollars to donuts, someone's missin' you right about now. And here you are playin' hardball."

Hands set to his knees again as the youth contemplates his situation. Lean further in? Or abandon his quest? He can't exactly just swim around with that in the water, someone would think he's a weirdo! The only rational solution is to bite the bullet, right?

"H'okay. Makin' me do this. You better not be the end result of something gross'n weird," he admonishes as he straightens his posture.

Quarter turning away from the pool, he shrugs out of his shirt and tosses it onto one of the nearby lounge chairs. Boots are nudged off with careless ease, and then the jeans are pushed down and off. Thankfully, he didn't come to the pool with scandalous intent, himself - a pair of vivid purple trunks are worn, depicting a cosmic scene. He makes no apologies. He thought it looked cool at the time.

Spare clothing amassed at the chair, he turns to the pool again with a determined frown. Which is followed by a prompt and uncomplicated hop, knees tucking before he hits the water with a heavy splash. The intention is to quickly resurface and capture the errant swimsuit.

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    Shortly after Drake hits the water, he'll hear a female voice with a distinctly Southern accent seemingly from nowhere. Or everywhere? If he's never experienced telepathic communication before, it may be a rather odd sensation:

    << That's gentlemanly of you! Except the part about gross'n weird. I ain't gross. >>

    When he resurfaces and looks for the swimsuit, though, he'll find that it seems to have disappeared.

    At least, until he presumably turns around sooner or later, at which point he'd find a teenage girl with aqua-coloured streaks through the front of her reddish-brown hair casually treading water in the pool - and fully dressed in the elusive swimsuit that had been floating on the water's surface moments before.

    Whether or not he does turn around, she'll end up eventually greeting him aloud either way.

    "Hiya!"

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley thought he might've imagined it at first, to be fair. A sort of 'what the owner might say if she knew' situation. However, upon surfacing and realizing the suit has gone missing, the pieces rapidly fall into place. He has experienced telepathy before. Not often enough that it isn't a bit jarring still, but it's at least not the confounding experience it used to be. And he rotates, slowly drawling, "And slow pan to..."

Girl!

She greets him in her chirpy way, earning a blink! And shortly after, a defeated laugh, his hands raising over the surface of the water to visibly shrug. "Hi, yourself!," he counters. Bright green eyes dip briefly to take in what he can see of her, noting she is, in fact, now wearing the errant swimsuit. What that might imply, he isn't sure he can put together just yet on the fly.

But at least he does not, in fact, have a zappy kneejerk response.

"Nah. Can testify, not gross," he confirms, shortly before whisking his palms over his face and back along his hair, pulling the wet locks out of his eyes. Now treading water with her, he asks, "Invisibility?"

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    The girl looks as though she's been fully submerged in the water, judging by the droplets coming off of her soaked and slightly messy hair. "What's a slow pan? And how can you tell it from a quick pan?" she wonders aloud, raising a questioning brow as she bobs in the water. She smiles amicably when he says she's not gross. "Aww, thanks! You're not gross either," she compliments him. Or makes a cheeky comment. Maybe both? Her sincerity of tone makes it hard to tell whether she's joking.

    "Ooh, nope! Not quite!" she says as he guesses at her powers. Looking at him thoughtfully, she makes an 'mmm' sound, before pointing both fingers and guessing: "Photosynthesis! Like you get powers from the sun. That's why you gotta wear your shirt open like that."

    Again, it's hard to know whether she's joking or sincere, with that chirpy cheeriness she seems to be full of.

Drake Riley has posed:
"You know. Panning! Like a camera. I'm talkin' showbusiness," Drake helpfully explains, his own tone erring between sincere and teasing. The humor has a self-deprecating quality, regardless, leaning into the inherent snootiness that would come with such severely west coast sensibilities.

It only becomes more apparent as the moment continues. Her guess gets a more toothy grin from him, bare shoulders lifting from the water. "What can I say? You nailed it. That's why they call me Chloro-Phil."

He lets that hang in the air for just a moment or two; it's a test! If she seems genuinely surprised by that, he'll know she was messing around! If not, he can feel it's established that she's kind've a goof! He can work with both! But it's good to know which is which!

Regardless, he shakes his head. "Nah, seriously, that's not my deal. Or my name. My shirt was open 'cuz I'm allergic to buttons, obviously."

"Glad to know I'm not gross either, though."

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    "Oh! I don't think I've heard of that one," Zandra says with a flaring drawl, looking thoughtful. "I mean, I've heard of showbusiness. And I've heard of panning for gold like the forty-niners did. So I'm guessin' panning with a camera's tryin' to get a real good shot? But you don't have a camera." She notes the last bit with increasing bemusement.

    When he says that she nailed it and 'explains' his powers, she lights up. "Hot dog! I didn't think I'd get it in one. I was kinda jokin'! Maybe I'm just smarter than I reckoned." She smiles. "That's real good! It's nice to meetcha, Phil! I'm Zandra. You know, I got an uncle with the same name, but he's not solar-powered!" However, suspicion starts to set in: "But shouldn't you be /green/, though...?"

    When he finally lets on that he's been leading her on, she aims a light punch at his shoulder. "Aww, shucks! You really got me with that one! Sorry 'bout the button allergy, unless you're still joshin' me. Well, come on: are you gonna tell me your real name? I guess it's your turn to guess again, if we're still playin' 'guess my mutation.'"

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley waits with a patient, even pleased smile on his face as she works with the fake name he'd provided. Not only is it entertaining to see her go through the motions of working put that he was messing with her, but it gives him a chance to really hear her *talk*. She has an accent. A rich one. He's decided it's charming. The punch to his shoulder just sees him bob a little in the water, obviously unhurt, and actually a little more entertained at her tomboyish style. Plus, she said shucks. Who does that these days?

"Guess we're doing this, then, yeah," he says, focusing his gaze on hers. "Not invisible, so... teleporting? You a teleporter?," he asks. The question comes with an inquisitve once-over, as if something in her appearance might indicate it. You know, aside from blue skin and a devil tail.

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    Indeed, it seems that Zandra does that nowadays, and with complete sincerity. She seems equally amused at the second guess that's offered by Drake, breaking out into a snickering fit. She looks down at herself as he does, doing a little twirl in the water in case it might prove helpful. She doesn't have a tail, or blue skin, so... "Nope. Not a teleporter. That'd be real handy, though. Never late for math class again!"

    That's probably a lie. She'd be late for math class even if her super power was time travel.

    "Okay, so... well, this ain't totally fair, you know. You got at least one good clue, and all I got was a red herring. So, I want a hint instead of takin' a guess," the girl requests. "Otherwise I'm just playin' Marco Polo with my ears plugged."

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley does, indeed, take her in further with the tworl she provides. Effervescent thing, isn't she? It's a nice change of pace from the typical brooding emo-demons that tend to populate the Institute. Not that he's blaming anyone for their complications, it's just that much more noticeable when someone shares his more sunny disposition.

"Okay," Drake says, raising an index finger out of the water. "I think I've got you figured out! But I can be patient."

She wants a hint. What could he say without outright saying it? As he contemplates, complete with theatrically expressive, contemplative twist of the lips, he tilts back in the water until he's floating languidly. He twists slowly, ponderously, until his head is closer to her than his torso, looking up at her. "A'right. Got it. My power? You'd think me being in the pool with you would be s *terrible* idea." He perks a black eyebrow at her, the grin tugging the corner of his lips sly. "Whatcha think?"

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    There's a bit of irony in that Zandra would actually be very, very good at playing Marco Polo with her ears plugged, but she doesn't openly give that away just yet. Her lips part in a momentary expression of surprise as he reveals that he's got her figured out, but it soon turns into a challenging grin. She watches as he starts to float, propping her elbows up against the sides of the pool as she gives him some space to spin.

    She screws up her lips as he reveals his hint.

    "Bad idea you bein' in the pool with me, huh?"

    She turns that one over in her head, the gears behind her eyes practically visible as she looks at nothing in particular and thinks. Then, looking back down at Drake, she says, "I think I got it! You can turn into iron, but if you go in water you sink and start rustin'." She doesn't seem completely self-assured, but she's smiling regardless. "I was thinkin' maybe some kinda sludge powers, but that would be gross, and we already established that you ain't gross." She considers further. "But we also established that you're a bit tricky, so that's my next guess."

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley observes from his admittedly awkward angle, watching her turn the clue over in her mind. The conclusion she reaches is a surprising one, he'd grant her that. Enough so to bring him to right himself again in the water and spin to face her.

"Creative! Buuut no," he denies. "And I'd never trick you about whether or not I'm gross. Some stuff you don't joke about," he asserts, compleye woth matter-of-fact nod.

"My turn!" He drifts closer to her, anticipatpry smile edging his lips. "You seemed invisible in the pool. But that's not your power. So it'd be some kind of camouflage. Except you could also move into something without... visibly moving in a pool. But you don't teleport. So dig this." His hands lift, palms out. "Water. You can turn into water. It's the perfect camo, and lets ya move into things while all... watery. Right?" The grin widens. "Come on, lay it on me."

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    Zandra snaps her fingers, swinging her arm with emphasis, when Drake reveals that she was wrong about her guess - or technically two guesses, since she'd snuck an extra one in as a rider on her legitimate effort. Her eyes go a bit wider as he approaches, a breath drawn in as he starts to make his way through his deductions. She winces as he finally says the words: 'Water. You can turn into water.'

    When he's done, she slouches dejectedly. "Gosh dang it, you got me." In fact, she slouches so hard that she seems to sink into the pool and... melt away into nothingness. For all intents, she seems to just disappear as she drops below the surface, down to the last hair. The swimsuit is left floating under the surface before suddenly wrenching as if sucked by some unseen force down between Drake's knees, the water suddenly churning as the flow can be felt like a jet before the garment refills with water behind him. If he turns quickly enough, he'll catch the sight of a humanoid shape of upward-flowing water rising up over the surface before turning all at once back into the form of the Southern girl, the swimsuit tightening into place as excess water is expelled.

    "Yep. I'm a water girl! I can control water too, but only if I'm already touchin' it. Like this."

    With that, whether or not Drake seems ready, she'll clasp her hands together in a way that might be familiar for someone who's played in the water before as a way to squirt the liquid out through the gap at the bottom of the palms - but the stream of water aimed at Drake's face would be much more significant and powerful than one would naturally anticipate. More like getting sprayed with a blast from a Super-Soaker.

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley positively beams when that dejected look sets in - proof positive before she even says it! And naturally, she'd have to say it in the most endearingly southern way possible. For a guy from the beaches of the West Coast, it's more than just a quirky accent - she may as well be a total foreigner speaking his language.

"Heck yeah, that's how I do- wait." She's melting into the water. And once again, he's left staring at a vacant swimsuit. Eyes widen, and he very cautiously peeks to either side, not wanting to catch her at an, ahem, compromised state, but a little worried she'd just slipped away and left him with a hard-to-explain vacant garment. But in short order, the swimsuit vanishes into the pool. And like an errant fish, it rides a current down between his legs and out behind him, naturalky causibg him to spin around.

There she is, in aqueous form. He openly stares as she essentially materializes, brows raised. She is, indeed, a water girl. No better way to describe it.

"That's pretty coo- fbblbphfft!"

Super-soaker levels of spray cuts him off, head turning and hands raised to try to shield himself with his palms. "That's not how ya reward a correct guess!," he protests.

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    There's a sound between cackling and giggling from the girl as Drake reacts to her unexpected aqueous assault. "Oh, sorry! I didn't know I was supposed to be rewardin' you. I figured that warm, fuzzy feelin' from guessin' right first was reward enough. And since you denied me gettin' that warm fuzzy feelin', I figured I'd get even with a squirt in the face," Zandra says, floating lightly in the water as she speaks. She extends a hand out to the older student as her expression calms. "So, truce?"

    She tilts her head slightly to one side, then gets a questioning look. "Hey, what's your name, anyway? You said it wasn't really Phil, right?"

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley finishes wiping at his face and only peeks back at her when he's reasonably confident she's not going to douse him again. Tentative, that. But finally, he exhales a heavy breath and refocuses on the southern belle. "Yeeaah, yeeaah. For now," he says, with a dangerous - albeit playful - cant of his head towards her. The offered hand is taken, and he gives it a gentle shake, likely just barely dipping the water.

"Yeah, nah. Come on, do I *look* like a Phil?" His head tilts questioningly, clearly having his own presuppositions on what a Phil would look like. Probably involving a goatee and bad mutton chops. Real hipster vibes. "The name's Drake," he finally says. "And what's your name, waterlily?"

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    Zandra seems to be abiding by the vague principle of 'Truce' for now, at least, as a reasonably firm handshake is exchanged without further splashing, spraying or dunking before the hand is released again.

    "Well, no. I only know two Phils, and you don't look like either of 'em," Zandra admits. "And they're both Uncles. That's kinda funny."

    Her eyebrows rise up when he tells her his actual name. "Drake? Really? I've never heard of anyone bein' called that before! It must be real unusual! That's like, a boy duck, right? So you're like a duck in water!"

    She grins, apparently completely oblivious to perhaps certain public personas who might be associated with such a name.

    "I'm Zandra. I think I said it a minute ago, but my mom says I talk 'bout a mile a minute when I meet somebody new, so I reckon it ain't your fault if you missed it," Zandra says with a slightly apologetic smile. "It's short for 'Alexandra,' 'cause that's too long, and I like Zandra better than Alex 'cause Alex sounds like a boy's name. Anyway, thanks for tryin' to save my swimsuit, even if I was just usin' it as bait to prank somebody."

    She runs her hands back through her hair, then frowns. "Hey, I still ain't figured out what your thing is! Somethin' that you don't want in the water with ya... like a curling iron? Are you electric?" she proposes.

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley returns his hand to listlessly treading water once released, letting her get to the woefully predictable association. He exhales a sigh, but any impact is lessened with a knowing smile. "Yeeaah, that's me. A duck. Or a dragon, if you like Latin. I prefer the Latin version. But..." He takes in a deep breath, chest rising, before exhaling a blustery sigh ending in a deflated, "..quack, I guess."

Tilting to his side, he begins weaving through the water with what may be a surprising ease, the kind of natural control and affinity one might develop over years of exposure. He circles the redhead as she speaks, waiting.

A curling iron, though?

"Oh. Oh, right." That's what she meant with that. Not heat, but zapping. "That's me. Very... shocking!" He darts a hand forward behind her, aiming to lightly prod her in the back in tandem with the word.

There is zero electrical current given, mind. It's merely meant to startle or panic the girl. A very mild form of payback for the waterspout!

"I'd demonstrate, but s'probably a bad idea!"

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    "Oh! A dragon's pretty cool! Nothin' wrong with ducks, though!" Zandra says as she lets the other student swim around her. She quirks her lips when he offers his 'quack.' "Well, maybe there's somethin' wrong with a duck if it quacks like that," she concedes. "That sounded like a duck that's quacked its funny bone."

    She's too lost in her out-loud musings to follow Drake as he's circling around her. A self-pleased smile appears on her face when he admits that she's on the right track. But then that finger strikes out like a nippy fish in a lake, along with the implication - and Zandra lets out a squeal, practically jumping out of the water, the pool rising up on her instinct to push her up to place her hands on the concrete edge before she can realise that she hasn't been electrocuted. She turns around, sitting down on the poolside and looking embarrassed in case anyone's heard the noise she made.

    "Well, that just about gave me a heart attack!" she says, sounding genuinely displeased for a moment before breaking into laughter. "I shoulda known you wouldn't zap me if you were in the same pool, though! Unless you can't get electrocuted yourself. I reckon gettin' a shock wouldn't be too nice for me, bein' more watery than most folks. You'll have to show me sometime when we ain't both all wet!"

    After a moment's thought, she adds, "But probably not by zappin' -me.- That's a lot worse than a splash between friends!"

Drake Riley has posed:
It is now Drake's turn to laugh, which he's pleased to find she joins into! So she doesn't take herself too seriously either - another point in her favor! So to re-examine the details, she's watery, a goofy tomboy, and not high-strung.

Drake rights himself again, letting his feet touch down on the floor of the pool to look up at her. "It's complicated. If I use my power in the water, I can't control really control it. It goes everywhere, kills all the fish, and.. yeah. No bueno. It doesn't *shock* me? But if I do more than a little more, it's like it pulls on some muscle somewhere and I get hurt. Like I'm almost instantly over-extended."

"I dunno if other people's powers work like that. Mine does."

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    Zandra raises both brows as Drake explains the effects of water on his powers. "Well, I'm pretty sure there ain't any fish in the pool, at least. And I'd know about it if there was, with all the time I've spent in it, explorin' the pipework'n all. But that sounds like I'm gonna have to be real careful 'round you. We might end up sendin' electricity everywhere."

    She considers his words, quirking her lips. "I s'pose I sorta know what pushin' it too hard feels like. I can draw in water from around me when I'm in my 'hydro form' - that's what the teachers here suggested callin' it - and that lets me get bigger and kinda stronger, but doin' too much for too long tuckers me out. Not my body as much as my brain. I've been gettin' better at it the more I practice, though - so it is kinda like a muscle, I guess."

    She pulls her legs up over the side as a breeze starts to blow some of the water off of her. "So, where're you from, Drake? I'm from Kennesaw. That's in Georgia."

Drake Riley has posed:
"Yeah, no. No fish in here," Drake confirms, giving a glance to the side. "But that's how I found out about it back home. I was swimmin' at the beach one day, and tried it out. Disastrous results. I was close enough to the shore to not wind up drowning myself, but... yeah. Not cool." His hands raise, palms out. "But you're safe. Promise! Before I ever came here, it was my *absolute* top priority to learn self-control. So it wasn't a knee-jerk reaction. I'm... I'm very, very aware of how dangerous I am if I'm not in control."

He bobs along the water with bouncy steps, carrying himself closer to the wall. Finally, he pulls himself up enough to rest his arm over its edge beside her. "I don't know too many other mutants whose powers work like that. But it's cool. Mine's the same. When I started out, I could only shoot lightning a short ways. Now it's like... football field or more. I haven't pushed it as hard as I can lately."

His head tilts to rest on a fist, smiling up at her. "Los Angeles. Beaches, warm weather, best sunsets on Earth. That's my home turf."

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    Zandra lets her feet slip back into the water as Drake assures her that he's very controlled about his abilities. "Well, alright. But if I get electrified and I don't make it I'm comin' back as a big watery ghost to haunt you. You won't never be able to feel safe in a bathtub again," she warns.

    She rests back against her hands on the concrete, making a thoughtful sound. "You met a lot of other mutants here yet? Or before you got here? I still feel like I hardly know folks. I had to take a year off 'cause my granddad got sick. My parents really didn't like it when they found out I was a mutant - mostly 'cause they didn't really know what it meant. It took 'em a while to be alright with me comin' here in the first place," Zandra rambles for a little while. On the subject of pushing limits, she says, "I could probably 'bout suck half the water outta the pool if I wanted. One time I helped do a slip'n slide for everybody."

    At the mention of Los Angeles, she cocks her head and says, "That explains why you sound like you're from the movies, I guess. We didn't have no beach back in Kennesaw, but I used to go down t'the lake every summer up in Arkansas with my family. It probably wasn't as big of a beach as the ones where you're from. The sunsets were nice, though - 'specially if the lightning bugs came out. Hey! That could be your nickname - 'Lightning Bug.'" She grins.

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley squints at her and her threat. "That sounds pretty sus, Zandra. Not gonna lie," he counters teasingly.

Bright green gaze flits off to the side, hesitating a moment on sharing. But she's been a pretty open book about things so far, and there's no reason he shouldn't, right? It is, however, a sore subject. "Yeah, I never met any other mutants back in California. Didn't run into any until I came here." He looks back up to her, his smile dimmed. "My family told me to never come back." His left shoulder lifts in a small bob of a shrug.

"Anyway, no. No lightning bugs. Makes me sound small'n cute. And, c'mon. I'm not small'n cute. I'm.. y'know. Manly." He squints a little, then quickly adds, "I decided on Volt. Short, simple, but cool. If I ever do the superhero thing, that'd be it. And hey, the lake's not bad. Not a *beach*, but not bad! Y'know there's one nearby, yeah?"

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    "What do you mean, sus?" Zandra wants to know. "Is that like, suspicious?"

    She frowns as Drake describes his family's reaction to his mutant abilities. "Aww, that ain't nice," she says, a little more slowly than the pace she's been keeping so far. "My folks didn't want me to leave at all. They kept tryin' to keep me locked in so no one would find out 'bout what'd happened to me. They didn't want nobody judgin' them 'cause of what I was. They reckoned it was a punishment or somethin'. 'Course, it ain't easy keepin' water locked up, and once they'd tried to keep me in too many times I just decided I wouldn't come back."

    She scratches at her arm a little. "I ended up gettin' found by the folks from here and brought in. My folks ended up decidin' I might as well stay. We're alright now, I guess. Maybe you and your folks'll be alright, too."

    She smirks as he rejects her suggestion of nickname. "Yeah, I guess there ain't too much bug-like about you. Volt's a good one! I'm kinda surprised it ain't taken already! I've been thinkin' what I'd go by, and I got an idea'r two..."

    She nods her head on the subject of the lake. "Yeah! I gotta get down there more often. It's nicer to be in, when I'm all watery. I heard we got a lodger down there that seems kinda ornery, though. I kinda wanna meet him sometime. I don't think we're supposed to talk to him."

    Which, judging by her tone, apparently makes her want to talk to the person in question.

Drake Riley has posed:
"Yeah. Suspicious," Drake explains, bemused by her unfamiliarity.

"See, I got found by someone, too. After I committed a bunch'a small crimes, like knocking over gas stations and stuff. Using my powers. Didn't hurt anyone, just wanted to make it obvious what I was so the right people would come for me. And it worked! Kind'a." His head tilts, finally smiling again, if crookedly. "It was an interesting first year."

He casts a glance in the direction of the forest and lake beyond, albeit briefly before looking back to Zandra. "Pisces? No, that's fishy..."

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    Zandra takes in Drake's explanation of the terminology, but seems no less bemused by the accusation - though she doesn't opt to linger on the topic.

    Especially when the subject of Drake's criminal history is raised. That gets a full-on gawking at from the Southern gal. "Knockin' over gas stations? Tornadoes knock over gas stations, and they ain't small!" Zandra remarks. "I mean, you're talkin' 'bout robbin' 'em? I never did that..."

    Though, since the confessional booth has been well and truly entered, she shifts her eyes before admitting, "I did steal some money from a wallet at the swimmin' pool, though. Just so I could get some food from the vendin' machine. I didn't really think about gettin' stocked up before I ran off. I felt bad about it, especially 'cause I didn't get a chance to pay it back."

    She tilts her head at the mention of Pisces. "No, I think he's called Marko - oh! You mean for a nickname for me?" she says. "Or are you talkin' about star signs? I'm an Aquarius, but I don't really believe in all that."

    She kicks up some water, sending a spray toward nothing in particular. "I was thinkin' Splash might be a cool nickname," she says, before looking to Drake for his opinion.

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley feigns shock when she mentions stealing money. She seems, and probably rightfully so, to be an egregiously sweet-natured girl. Which naturally means he *has* to pick at her for such a brazen admission of illicit behavior! His posture straightens, one hand covering his mouth as his eyes widen at her. "You absolute Hellion!," he mock-scolds. "You seemed like such a good egg! But don't worry. I'll never let anyone know what a criminal mastermind you are. Our little secret." A conspiratorial, brisk nod follows.

"Yeah, I dunno jack about astrology. I just meant names. Splash is okay, but it might get a little tongue-tied if people say it in a sentence real fast. What aboouuut..." Drake pauses as he thinks, turning around to recline his back against the pool's edge. "...Spout? No. Morph? Neh, I think I heard that somewhere else. Slipstream?"

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    Zandra might be a bit of a sheltered bumpkin, but she's still capable of spotting when somebody's giving her hassle just for the heck of it. Her lips curl into a smirk as she cuffs at the water's surface with her hand, sending a splash of water at Drake - this time, at least, not with Super-Soaker pressure backing it up. "You're joshin' me again! I felt real bad about it, alright? I even tried seein' if someone at the school could help me pay it back, but I didn't know their name or address or anything, so it ain't gonna happen."

    She breathes out through her nostrils a little restlessly at that thought, but distracts herself with the subject of her codename. "Spout just makes me think of nursery rhymes, and I don't wanna be known for tormentin' itsy-bitsy spiders or people tippin' me over and pourin' me out. Slipstream sounds a bit hard to say quick too!" She rubs at the side of her neck thoughtfully. "Is Splash really that bad? What's a sentence that's hard to say with Splash in it?"

Drake Riley has posed:
"Maybe the Professor could use his powers to zero in on someone with, like, deep emotional trauma and an inability to ever trust again. That's probably the person ya took money from, Drake adds 'helpfully', only to get splashed. It's fine. He deserved it. He even knows it.

He relents, however, in favor of putting full focus on the matter of her theoretic codename. Leaning away from the wall, he tilts his head back to look up at her. "Liiike... Splash shakedown," he says, scrunching his nose. "Slipstream shakdown. But yeah, nah, I ain't sold on Slipstream either. And Splash is *okay*, I just think... maybe there's something better for ya. Something that's cool and catchy."

"Do you, uh... actually plan on fighting crime with it? Or anything like that?"

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    "Well, I thought Splash was cool and catchy," Zandra says with what sounds like a bit of a pout coming on. "You know, like it's someone who likes havin' fun. I guess it ain't as cool as Volt, though," she admits with a quirk at the corner of her lips. "Maybe I'll do a survey! People can suggest whatever nicknames they think are the best, then I can see what everyone thinks out of the ones people suggested. Or is that bein' too much of a people-pleaser?"

    She tilts her head again when he asks the question about crime fighting. "You mean like what the X-Men do? I think that'd be real fun! I was thinkin' I might just be the world's best plumber some day, but fightin' crime, or puttin' out fires, or somethin' - that'd be sweet. I'm not sure how good I'd be at stoppin' criminals, but I could make it real slippery when they were tryin' to run away, I guess. How about you?"

    She raises an eyebrow. "You gonna fight crime with your electric powers? Those seem like they'd work better."

Drake Riley has posed:
"It *does* have that feel to it," Drake says finally. "But I think whatever you decide, s'gotta be something *you* want to hear. Something you think would be cool to get called." He lightly prods a fingertip at her nearby knee. "You're the one who's gotta live with it. But if you want, we can go grab a thesaurus later and hang out. See if anything else watery jumps atcha. Like.. Tsunami, or something. Tsunami's cool. Even better if your name was Sue. Like S-U-E, get it?" He flashes a toothy grin.

"I *do* get up to some, y'know, extracurricular stuff every now'n again in the city. Helping cops instead of giving'em headaches," he explains. "But I'm not in the X-Men or nothin'. Would be really cool to be, though. I dunno if fun's the right word, but..." His hands lift again, just a short distance from the water in an animatedly slow shrug, "..it'd go a long way in making sense out of everything that's happened to me. Make it all worth something."

The hands plunk into the water again. "Don't-... don't do a water form to clear someone's plugging. That's nasty, yo."

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    "Well, I'd be alright with folks callin' me Splash," Zandra declares rebelliously, folding her arms under her chest. Her knee jerks a bit reflexively at being prodded. "But grabbin' a thesaurus sounds like fun, too!" She creases her brow a little at the suggestion of Tsunami as a codename. "Well, it sounds fun to say, but I've never heard of a Sue-Nami, and my name ain't Sue, either." She looks up at the sky for answers. "I cain't think of anything that works for Zandra, either, except maybe Zand-Storm if I had sand powers, which I don't."

    She looks interested at his report of 'extracurricular' stuff. "You mean like, playin' basketball with 'em?" she muses as he mentions helping the cops. But, given the context, she reconsiders: "Oh, you mean like fightin' crime? Wow! I wonder if I'd get in trouble if I tagged along with you doin' that." She smiles. "Maybe we'll both get to be X-Men someday. I think that'd be fun. And definitely worth somethin'."

    She quirks her lips and nose a little at the instruction. "Okay. Well... I promise not to do it again," she says.

Drake Riley has posed:
Again? Did she say again? "Eeww," chastises Drake with a little eye-squint. The idea of her diving herself into a toilet to flush out a septic system is... unpleasant. He chases it away with a quick, water-droplet-flinging shake of his head.

"We'll hit a thesaurus sometime. And, yeah, sure, why not? I don't have a cool costume or anything, though, so just... wear something athletic?," he suggests with a shrug. "Something non-descript, since it's getting warmer out. We'll see if we run into any crimes goin' down, and maybe do something about it. Heck, if word gets to the higher-ups around here, maybe they'll want us in the X-Men anyway."

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    "It wasn't what you're thinkin'!" Zandra is quick to insist, though she doesn't offer to clarify further on the subject for now, or possibly forever. She did claim not to be gross, after all.

    The sun has been hitting Zandra's back for a little while, and she decides that now that she's good and dry, it's as good a time as any to get soaked again. She scoots forward and slides down into the pool, submersing herself before emerging and shaking her hair away from her face.

    "Really? You think I'll be alright to go off with you somewhere to look for bad guys?" she asks, seeming surprised, but at the same time excited. "Sounds like fun! I'll wear somethin' I can get wet in. Actually, I usually wear things I can get wet in. I've got a habit of gettin' wet whether I intend to or not. Like I was a bit of a sweaty Betty, except it ain't sweat, it's just water. Do you have a car or somethin' you can drive?"

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley eases back to give her more room to slide into the pool. "You'll be alright," he says, a little more resolutely. "I'll make sure of it." It'd be interesting to see how she uses her powers, anyway! And for as long as he's been in the Institute, he's not really seen many examples of powers usage in crime-fighting. He really should be getting out more.

The question on transportation, however, gets a pause, his head ducking. "No car yet. Been using buses and stuff to get around. But, uh.. hm. Wear baggy clothes until we get where we're going, then stash it?," he suggests, suspecting what she means is essentially a swimsuit.

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    "Oh, baggy clothes ain't good for gettin' wet in -" Zandra starts to say, but when Drake finishes his thought, she considers it further. "Oh, right. Well, I'm sure we'll figure somethin' out. I'm hopin' someone around here can make me somethin' that I can keep on when I'm goin' watery - or even better if it was somethin' that could change with me. It'd make keepin' myself decent easier. No idea if that's even somethin' that exists, though. But they're real smart around here, so I reckon if anyone can figure it out, maybe they can."

    She looks around to see if anyone's approaching - it doesn't look as though her earlier squeal gathered too much attention after all. Maybe it wasn't all that impressive, considering that it wasn't even super-powered. "So, you got any classes comin' up?" she asks, turning to Drake with a thoughtful look on her face. "Or reckon you've got time for a game of Marco Polo?"

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley gives a low whistle. "That'd be hella fancy," he notes. "My powers don't require anything like that, but I kinda wish they did. Very Hollywood, that." He's also not sure it's something that's possible, but at the same time, has every bit of confidence that if any group *could* do it, it's this one. After all, handling mutations are their thing! Even wacky watery ones!

As she speaks, his hands lift to brush hair back out of his face again. "Nah, nothing for the rest of the day," he says, only to pause with his fingers still drawing back the normally hanging, suspended bangs to blink at her. A wry smile soon follows. Whether it's a latently competitive side coming out, the entertainment of the game itself, or the admittedly cute girl making the offer that's the deciding factor, the response is a confident, "Let's do it."

Zandra Mitchell has posed:
    The challenging grin that greets Drake's confident decision might be something of a warning sign.

    "Alright. You can go first."

    What follows will ultimately reveal several facts about Zandra over the course of the afternoon (or however long Drake is willing to play):

    - She's an extremely fast and nimble swimmer. Even in human form!
    - She doesn't tire out easily when it comes to aquatic movement.
    - She's totally willing to cheat by using her hydro form.
    - She's apparently able to perfectly sense where Drake is in the pool.
    - She's very, very competitive.
    - She's borderline sadistic when it comes to Marco Polo.
    - It's also her favourite game.

    Actually catching her at any point will likely require negotiations for restriction of powers. Perhaps even reversing the role by having her close her eyes while Drake opens his to pursue her. Even then, it will probably be a challenge.