While the minds around the compound were generally open, Jean had found nothing interesting. It was all stir-craziness, general drama between roommates, and a smattering of uninteresting budding relationships. It was incredibly boring
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Stuck in his thoughts, he didn't even notice the redhead sit down until she spoke.
He glanced up sharply, then looked down at the cookie. It was almost as if it took a moment to process. He shook his head, frowning.
"No, thank you." His words were clipped, his demeanor tense.
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While she started her game, her mind was inside of his. His thoughts were loud and clear; some just happened to be in Spanish. Those took her longer to decipher, but she managed. The mental pictures... Thoughts racing through his head of quite the explicit nature, and all of them with the blonde, Allison. For some reason, Jean filed the mental images away. Seemed like they could come in handy later.
She nudged the cookie back toward him, smiling. "It'll make you feel better, I promise. I'm Jean, by the way. I'm pretty new here."
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He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "Sorry, lady. I don't like cookies." Snorting softly, he inclined his head. "Manuel. I am, as well. New, that is. Just arrived a day ago."
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"It's nice to meet you, Manuel. Hard place to feel welcome, hm?" She looked around as her mind brought together the pieces of Spanish she knew, remembering that incredulidad meant disbelief. He felt disbelief about something Allison had done... She accessed the visual part of his mind, filtering for things this Allison had done. She found Manuel's memories of a small village, losing his footing as the ground shook beneath him, his eyes on a small orange form in the center of the village. The memory changed rapidly, Allison staring up at him with dead, broken eyes, saying she couldn't trust him.
Interesting.
Jean backed out of his mind a little, turning her attention back to him. "Where are you arriving from?"
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"España." he said, looking her over for a moment. There was just something about her that didn't sit right with him. Not in the slightest.
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Well, that explained the Spanish. She was picking up the cues that were saying he wasn't in the mood to chat with her. She stared back into his glare with a smile on her face.
"You don't seem to want company, so I'll leave you alone. But if you're ever in the mood to chat, need a friendly ear, I'm around." Jean pushed the chair back, standing and nodding to him. She left the table, still filtering through what information seemed of interest in his mind. So much of what was at the surface was tangled up in a girl, which lent itself well to Jean's brand of entertainment.
Besides, he was cute, and obviously had some kind of manipulative ability. How was he not useful?
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