Of everyone in the room, Tommy's possibly the least likely to want to talk to Xavier. Charles. Whatever you want to call him, though just about anything's bound to be awkward given his present state of being barely any older than Tommy is and a wheelchair and razor away from familiarity. It's not personal, and actually-- surprisingly-- they'd gotten along rather well in the City, last time. The fact that Xavier doesn't remember that doesn't bother him in the least; it might be for the best, since it means he doesn't know about the twins' family situation. (Which is exactly why Tommy is trying to avoid him. His favored tactic of loudly thinking BLAH BLAH BLAH is surprisingly wearing. And besides, Erik is far more interesting for obvious reasons.)
With typical teenage eloquence, he shrugs. "Pretty much," he answers simply. It's not evasive. Aside from the fact that Erik-- and it's just as awkward calling him by his first name-- doesn't know, Tommy's doesn't have a lot of expectations when it comes to family. He's not as accustomed to the idea as most people are; between the lukewarm-at-best affection of his biological family, and the newness of any sort of relationship with his... well, his real family, as he's come to think of it... he doesn't really know what to expect.
So this about measures up.
"I'm not really, like, a party person, but it's all right I guess."
(When you correct for teenage apathy, that's probably high praise.)
He leans against the wall, slouching a bit less than he usually might. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious; less than he might have been when he lived in the City, before he'd met his grandfather in any capacity, but it's an interesting opportunity. A weird one, but he'll take it.
Xavier-- before, when he knew who they were-- had said he could see the resemblance. Tommy's trying to decide if he can, glancing now and then from the corner of his eye, unconsciously echoing the crossed arms as he watches the room.
we'll paint all the deer a lovely shade of teal
With typical teenage eloquence, he shrugs. "Pretty much," he answers simply. It's not evasive. Aside from the fact that Erik-- and it's just as awkward calling him by his first name-- doesn't know, Tommy's doesn't have a lot of expectations when it comes to family. He's not as accustomed to the idea as most people are; between the lukewarm-at-best affection of his biological family, and the newness of any sort of relationship with his... well, his real family, as he's come to think of it... he doesn't really know what to expect.
So this about measures up.
"I'm not really, like, a party person, but it's all right I guess."
(When you correct for teenage apathy, that's probably high praise.)
He leans against the wall, slouching a bit less than he usually might. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious; less than he might have been when he lived in the City, before he'd met his grandfather in any capacity, but it's an interesting opportunity. A weird one, but he'll take it.
Xavier-- before, when he knew who they were-- had said he could see the resemblance. Tommy's trying to decide if he can, glancing now and then from the corner of his eye, unconsciously echoing the crossed arms as he watches the room.