Xaviers!

Shari has been in the XUB in the afternoon, spending her time annoying the crap out of the bar-tender by commandeering the karaoke machine for who knows how long now, only occasionally buying any drinks and singing to an audience of none. She often stops the songs halfway through, others she sings repeatedly. Currently she is on her third rendition of this particular song and as frustrating her presence is to the poor bar-tender she's actually putting her all into this one. Her singing is passable, but the song seems to strike a chord with her and she leans into it hard as she goes through it once more.

"You said you'd never... compromiiise... with the mystery tramp, but now you... realize!
He's not selling anyyy alibis, as you stare into the vacuuuum of his eyes,
And say do you wannnaaa to make a deeeeeeeaaaaaal?

How does it feel!?

How does it feel...

To be on your own... with no direction home... like a complete unknown...
Like a rolling stooone!""


((open))

Will was in the corner of the bar, sipping on a fruity drink, listening to Shari with a critical ear, and nodding along to the beat.

Once she finishes out the song she gives Will a slight wave before walking over to the karaoke machine to restart the song. The moment the first couple notes play it suddenly cuts out and the machine turns off. Behind the bar the bartender is looking at her and shaking his head, having just pulled the fuse for the small stage. "That's about enough of that." he informs her and she throws an odd but obviously rude gesture his way before hopping down from the stage.

"Hey. Didn't notice you come in." she says as she heads over towards Will.

"I slip in sometimes.

You've been here all day?," he asked, gesturing towards the stage.

"Maybe not all day..." she says sheepishly, scratching the back of her head. "But a while, yeah."

"I'm sure they LOVE you in here. You know, we have whole rooms dedicated to this kind of stuff."

"I found the room with the instruments, but they got the sing-along machine in here."

"Yeah, that's usually for more social events, and turn-taking, and not just one person bogarting the stage," Will nodded. "But it's...good, I guess, that you're enthusiastic."

"Hey, there's nobody else in here, so maybe I am taking turns." she says cheekily. "I just like that it's like..." she scrunches up her face as she tries to figure out the words. "It's like some songs are like ciphers for how I feel. Like whoever wrote it felt the same way about something."

"Well, that's just art in general, isn't it? People expressing themselves through creativty.

Not much of that on Skrullos."

"Not anymore. And never like this."

"What do you mean, 'like this'? I wouldn't think Earth-forms of music would travel much outside the solar system, unless we're literally talking about Voyager."

"With music. If we want to express ourselves we just change shape into whatever feels right. What's Voyager?"

"Space probes we sent out to see if we could find alien life outside the solar system. Had a record on it with everything from Bach to Chuck Berry.

Didn't get so far as Skrullos. Assuming it hasn't been blown up by someone.

And what the hell does shifting have to do with not making art?"

"You said it's how you express yourselves. We mostly do that by shifting. Guess music just never really took off much. Or maybe they purged all of that when everyone decided they were gonna be professional assholes now. I think I get why you'd send out music like that though."

"Yeah, that's a load of steaming bullshit. Shifting does not in any way, shape or form preclude art. It's bullshit talk like that that makes me so pissed at all of your 'people'."

"What are you talking about? I never said it precluded anything! But don't let that 'preclude' you from being an ass."

Will glared back at Shari a little bit, and then shifted, his hindquarters sticking out as he became quadruped, disturbing the chairs behind him as he donkey'd out.

"You said it yourself," he brayed. "Your people don't do art, they don't do culture. It's a race that devoted itself to one thing to the exclusion of all others -- all others but conquering, that is.

Oh, you're a shifter, Will; you'll understand them. Go to Tarnax, Will; they're your types," he mumbled, sotto voice. "So much in common."

"They did once! And shifting was part of it! It's not my fault they decided to turn it into a weapon and make everybody hate us!" she bursts out, her chin quivering a bit as she fights back tears.

Will sighed. "No one's blaming you, Shari. No one ever said it was your fault."

"No, I just end up lumped in with 'my people'." she says as her skin grows mottled spots of brown and she slowly fades into a human form.

"It's why you and your friends came here, wasn't it? You've been a part of the whole thing up until now."

"You don't always get to choose what thing you're made to be part of. The two you killed were my parents friends, not mine." she says not without some hurt and anger in her voice.

"Their deaths were an accident," Will grunted after a minute of awkward silence. "It shouldn't have happened that way."

"Why are you upset about having killed your enemies?"

"Don't kill if you can wound. Don't wound if you can subdue. Don't subdue if you can pacify. And don't raise your hand at all until you've extended it, first."

"The Russians extended a hand and they stole their weapon program from underneath them. You tried to subdue one in your cells and she blew up the Point. Never show your hand unless your strike is decisive. Now they won't know what you're capable of."

"There. That, that right there. That's the kind of bullshit your culture has decided to focus on rather than art and music. That's why your people are hated throughout the galaxy. That's why you have to conquer via wars and death and destruction. It promotes backstabbing and betrayal and mistrust. It gives shifters -- and people with green hair, for that matter -- a bad name and a bad reputation."

"Yeah, must be really fucking tough." she says, sounding bitter.

"This isn't a game of 'who's suffered most'. If you're different, you're different, and it sucks to be painted with the same brush as your counterparts. I'm talking about the culture you were defending there a sentence ago -- and why it's led you to a point where you get tarred and feathered for being you. That's shit! It's the same shit we're fighting against here, which is why this is a good place for you to be.

But if you're going to come out with homilies or Aespos you learned on Trellos, I'm going to call them out for what they are. Might doesn't make right here -- or, hadn't you noticed that the lighthouse is fine and your...parent's friends aren't around anymore?"

Shari glares at Will. "Of course you're not right just cause you're stronger than someone, but being right doesn't do you any good on it's own. They didn't die cause you were nice to them. But if you want to feel bad for yourself because you had the might to stand up for what's right then be a guest."

"The philosophy that might wins out in the end has caused more tragedies and atrocities than any other, at least on this planet. And it also has the nasty side-effect of not being true.

We didn't beat the Skrulls because we're great at punching. We beat them because a weird kid cobbled together some science and outthought them. Invasions have been stopped because Reed Richards tricked Skrulls into believing they were cows.

And it's "be my guest", not "be a guest."" the talking Donkey corrected.

"Then why do they teach you how to fight, huh?" she asks defiantly. Will being a donkey throughout most of this argument doesn't seem to particularly phase her. She does vaguely wonder why, having missed the initial connection entirely, but she puts it down to not knowing knowing what donkeys are.

"Because I signed up for fight lessons. They don't teach us, as a rule, to fight. That's not how a developed society works."

"That's not what I meant." she says meekly. "I know my people suck, but I also know they could be better. I don't know how but I want them to be the kind of people a shapeshifter can go to and be understood."

"It's been that way for such a long time; it probably needs to be attacked from both ends. Top-down reforms, steering them away from centuries of horrific acts. Grassroots changes in how people think and act, too, or it won't stick.

I mean, listen to you. You're about as different as they come, it seems, and yet you're still talking about the importance of might and fighting. It's ingrained, deep in a culture's psyche."

"Maybe you're right... But if you try to do good and someone with a weapon tries to stop you... I mean... you shouldn't have to, but in reality you gotta fight to stand up to others who threaten you..."

"It depends on the situation, but that's why my statement had conditionals. Sometimes you need to end things before they get out of hand, but that's just an indication that things failed earlier. Maybe it wasn't you who failed and maybe it was a very complicated reason...but something, somewhere, went wrong."

"That's kind of a weird conditional when the somewhere is a thousand lightyears away and a thousand regular years ago, cause the only way that matters to you now is that they want to kick you off your own planet."

"Yeah, sometimes shit is fucked up," Will nodded. "Fighting is a last resort, but that doesn't mean it isn't a resort."