Guantanamera, guajira Guantanamera.
This Entry ICly for the faculty, Rogue and Bella
Well... that was interesting to say the least.
A quiet dinner out at Sweet Basil with Rogue turned... well, yes, that's the second time in two sentences I'm going to use the word 'interesting', but that's the best descriptor I can give right now.
Interesting. Yeah.
Eric Lensherr was apparently posessed of the same yen for a quiet evening out. Invited himself over to our table with some cock and bull story about 'catching up with old friends'. This, after I got clear first ideas off of him involving large numbers of flying steak knives. Still, he knows the sort of good manners that go into public dining at a good jazz club as well as I do, so he changed his mind, and arrived with his arrogant self and a bottle of good wine.
Out of curiosity and a bit of one-upmanship, we had him sit. And we talked. And said absolutely nothing that changed either side's mind. But yeah...
Philosophical debate over good wine in a good club, just like in Harvard. Except, y'know, with our Arch Enemy and Evil Nemesis and all that.
Was anything accomplished besides getting a few subtle digs in at him?
Got me.
Professor, I'll be seeing you directly.
OOC: The log! And proof that not all battles are fought with fists, weapons or mutant powers.
X-Men MUCK - Saturday, September 27, 2003, 6:05 PM
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< NYC > Sweet Basil < NYC >
Undoubtedly one of the finest jazz clubs to be found in the southern sectors of Manhattan, and most definitely in Greenwich, Sweet Basil has seen the faces of some of the greatest jazz legends to cross the planet in its time. A relatively down-home charm manner of club, low-key and looking as though it belongs more in New Orleans than New York, many evenings can simply be wasted away being serenaded within the walls of the Sweet Basil, which, in turn, are plastered with black-and-white photographs of the legends that have graced this club's demure little stage and polished wooden floors.
[Exits : [O]ut ]
[Players : Rogue, Magneto ]
The lights are appropriately dim in Sweet Basil this evening, bar for the footlamps of the stage, where a lone young alto is soulfully crooning classic jazz to the acompaniement of guitar, bass and a slow drum set. Already half-full, a few tables sport tasteful 'reserved' signs, but most of the remaining are available free and clear. It's to one of these that a pair of women is headed, one tall and auburn haired, dressed for a day's business, while the other (At least to those whom Jean's touching with a light psionic illusion) is wearing Rogue's favourite garb of No Exposed Skin Anywhere and looks rather like the college student she is. "I tell you, Rogue, we picked a good night to catch up on things. The singer performing tonight is a real up-and-comer. And the menu's fairly good too."
Rogue grins and offers a nods towards Jean. "I'll take your word on that," the young woman states, with a slight laugh. Those who don't get to see Rogue in her favorite outfit, see her in one that consists of leggings, a worn coat and shirt. The gloves are also tattered and worn. Rogue's gloves consist of, well, no fingers, therefore, serve no purpose. "Actually, it'll be great to catch up with someone who knows something about me," she states with a slight laugh, offering a smile to her favorite doctor.
It's to one of those 'reserved' tables that a tall, gray-haired man is eventually led by the hostess, once the first set of music is completed. Dressed from head to toe in varying metallic shades, the character blends in nicely with the shadows, which is ideal for him, considering the fact that he'd prefer to keep a low profile on his evening out. Seems like the jazz singer isn't the only one who's going solo tonight. Arriving at his table, Magneto removes his jacket and takes a seat, pleased to find that the cutlery is clean and the ambiance soothing. After the week he's had, a bit of relaxation is a must.
Jean collects a pair of menus from their waitress and ushers Rogue into the booth ahead of her, letting her own body act as a barrier between Rogue and any passerby unaware of the Supremely Bad Idea that is bumping into Ms. D'Ancanto. Requesting "Just a carafe of water and two glasses for now," of their server and giving a politely friendly smile, Dr. Grey soon settles back to relax and enjoy herself, letting the illusion fade and projecting a much less intense and much less invasive Somebody Else's Problem field instead, keyed to norm minds rather than the more difficult mutant ones. "I know the feeling," she replies with dry reminisce. "I could hardly wait for weekends home from Harvard when I was slaving away there, an excuse to let my hair down around people who knew me. But how are you doing, Rogue?" A concerned glance takes in the girl's attire. "You'd mentioned some memory problems in addition to the costume change?"
Rogue offers Jean a thankful smile as she settles into the booth, at least the jacket has sleeves. "It's not that bad at Emerson, actually, I know if things get too bad I've got a place to run," is offered, before shrugging. "I think I might be getting to know how Logan feels everyday, just not quite so extreme," she laughs a bit. "I think it's along the lines of in the movie Anastasia has no recollection of anything before the orphanage, and, well, the school kinda plays the same role..." As of right now, she doesn't notice the one person she loves to hate, or however that works.
"A bottle of your finest wine," is the drink order given to his server, before Magneto allows his gaze to roam around the room. He's not searching for anything in particular, but with a mind that's always thinking, it's possible that a quick glance at something might give him some ideas. What he does eventually find, however, gives him more than just an idea - it causes an eruption of thoughts and rather distasteful expressions to burst within his mental confines. Yes, he's caught sight of the two X-men seated across the room, and it takes a lot of control for him to halt his innitial urge of sending every steak knife in the place flying towards them. Once that's been taken care of, he begins to form another idea, this one just as deadly, but on a much more subtle level. In fact, this plan should be more shocking - and less expected - than any physical attack.
Mental confines that... aren't so confined when you're Dr. Jean Grey, primary protegee of the most powerful brain on the planet. Especially not when that quickly-restrained eruption of thoughts contains a number of ideas that would prove quite personally painful. Jean jerks suddenly in her seat, but, since she's not dining alone, continues to offer small talk while scanning the room behind Rogue's head, looking for... ah. Magneto. A fencer's nod and the sort of polite 'I smile because manners are more important than killing you at the moment' smile that women of her social strata have mastered, and Jean returns to looking at her menu. "And, strangely enough, Logan's memory is doing a little better lately. -He- attributes it to having a telepath parked in his head now and again, I think it's just self-healing... but the following the script of a fairytale thing would fit with what I'm seeing in others. Bella Miller is Sleeping Beauty, of all things." she chats, running a finger down the selections. "I think I'll go for the jambalya, try and clear my palate after the Cajun's wretched attempt at it... and of course this makes me wonder who Prince Charming is. I'd die laughing if it were Eric Lensherr stuffed into a pair of tights."
Rogue is thankful she's not a telepath, or she'd probably be asking every god if they where out to get her, or something. "I'm glad to hear that Jeannie," she offers. "You've been a blessing, when it comes to Logan, and anything that helps my big brother, is good. Really? Sleeping Beauty, rather ammusing, but, then, a couple days ago I met Peter Pan, so, everything's a little ammusing these days, if not infuriating," declares 'Anastasia' before she ponders. "That sounds good, I'll have the same," she actually likes the stuff, oddly. At Dr. Grey's comment as Eric being Prince Charming just sends Rogue into a fit of laughter. "Oh, now that's just plain ammusing."
Be thankful that Eric has yet to leave his seat to join them, else that little giggle over him dressed as Prince Charming might have made him rethink his original plan of sending in the steak knives. However, it's only just now that he moves from his table and strides over to theirs, after leaving a comment to the server to bring over two extras glasses to his new seating arrangements. Comming to stand less than a foot away, Magneto clears his throat and states, "Well, well now. What chance hath occured that made for all of us to meet up together like this?" He smiles, bowing to them both. "Good evening, Dr. Grey. You are looking as lovely as ever. And Rogue, you are looking -particularly- interesting. College life cuting into your clothing budget, by chance?"
Jean doesn't laugh at her own joke, since she's occupied with keeping an eye on just what Magneto's up to, but the elder woman -does- offer a thoroughly editorial waggle of an eyebrow and a quick smirk before pouring them both a glass of water. Just in time for the Master of Magnetism himself to show up. The smirk and animation suddenly vanish behind as serene a game face as any Charles Xavier might be seen wearing. Which only makes sense, since it was he who taught her the trick of -that-, too. "Chance? Well, they -do- say that that gods like playing games with the lives of men." is offered in return, with another poised nod. "And likewise, Mr. Lensherr. Will you sit and join us, since that seems to be what you were intending to do anyways?" Her tone is perfectly polite, but... Jean's not Charles, even if she's trying to come off like him, and she can't -quite- resist a little jab.
Rogue offers a nod to Jean as the water is poured. quirks a brow upon hearing that oh-so-familiar voice before she looks up. Now her brow's not quirked, she's just scowling. "I believe my budget is none of your business, Eric," she offers quite simply and with as little venom as she can. "How are you doing today?" plastering of the fake grin is done. Rogue is certainly no Jean, much less the Proff, so there's no way she can pull off anything near perfectly polite... but she tries, and that's what counts.
That's the problem with dining in public... You can't always wear what you want, unless you want to attract the attention of everyone and their neighbour. Which is why Magneto's current attire is presently lacking in something - a helmet, to be exact. Tapping at his temple, he tsk's. "Now, now Jean. That's not fair. Particularly since I'm only trying to be polite. Seems my little trip to Europe made me homesick and I'm only now getting around to visiting some of my dearest friends." That said, he then turns to face Rogue, "And I am doing superb, my dear. Thank you for asking." Just then, the server returns with the glasses and wine and so Eric does as Jean requests and joins them at their table. "I took the liberty of ordering us all a little celebratory drink. I hope you'll be so kind as to share it with me in a toast?"
"Trust me, Eric," replies Jean with a sweet smile and a slight bit of emphasis on the first name, since Magneto's apparently decided to play Familiar Old Friend tonight. "I would prefer to keep as neatly out of your thoughts as possible. I just happen to understand a bit about human nature and various personalities as well." Translation: she guessed. Accurately, it would seem. She scootches over a little more, now putting herself between Rogue and Magneto instead of Rogue and the rest of the world, and endeavours to be polite, since that's the game being played tonight. If the Professor can play chess with him, than she, surely, can do no less than to have a somewhat civil drink. "Dearest friends? I'm flattered. No hard feelings about the prison sentence then? Or did you go to visit Bella and find a confused welcome? And I have to admit, you've got a good eye for wine, so I can't see why I should say no." A pause and another of the honeyed-arsenic smiles. "Unless you've been busy building up a tolerance to iocaine powder."
Rogue continues with the fake smile. "Dearest friends?" she quirks a brow, before shrugging it off and playing the quiet one in this game of polite. "Oh, you're welcome, I do hope you had a... superb vacation," is given with her typical southern drawl, before returning to letting Jeannie do the talking.
Magneto offers them both that small smile of his - the one that borders on looking slightly insane, when accompanied by a wide eyed gaze. "Why Jean, I too know all too well about human nature, particularly the side of it that involves revoking differences and denying change. But I digress. We are here to celebrate my return, and not discuss ideologies, unless, of course, you want to hear my tired old reasons all over again?" He nods his head in Rogue's direction. "I'm sure our young friend here has heard them enough from her time spent under my care that she could probably talk about them in her sleep." The mention of jail time is glossed over, but the comment concerning Bella does cause a tic to start in his left eye. "My return home was slightly shocking to a few of my followers, that I must admit, but it's nothing that I cannot fix." The wine bottle is corked and then served, and Eric raises his glass in a toast. "No poisons here, my dears. Just a joy of being able to return to the work I so love. Can't begrudge a man for his career, now can you?"
Jean's expression remains fixedly intelligent and politely unreadable, her chin tilted -just- a bit sideways to let her body language suggest a relaxed listening, but the little tic appearing at the mention of Bella doesn't go unnoticed to the doctor's gaze. Her lips curve up very slightly for a moment, as a mark is made on some mental scoreboard of Phoenix vs. Magneto, but she camouflages it with a fuller smile and a gentle nod. "And here I thought Rogue and I were simply here for a quiet dinner out and some catching up... You learn something every day. And... don't be too sure about 'fixing' Bella Miller, Eric. She's more mentally stable in this state, not to mention -happier-, than she's been in months. But of course, you'd not have known that, having been away. And so, to returns, and the resuming of business as usual." she offers, raising her own glass smoothly. The business of foiling plans, at least! "So, Rogue, as I was wondering, how is Emerson?" the woman wonders, deftly turning the topic of conversation away from Magneto again.
Rogue turns her attention from Magnus to Jean. "Emerson's been good, classes certainly aren't as easy as at the school, but they're not too bad," she offers a slight laugh. "But I'm certianly not top of my class, nor near your standings," is given with a slight smile. "I've a few friends there, most people are... I don't know, my friends say intrigued... by my outfits, before this whole fairytale disaster," Marie offers a shrug, not even offering a look towards the wine.
Sipping at his wine to hide his emotions about Bella, Magneto therefore deems to ignore them, and allows the whole list of comments made by Jean to simply slip past him. He's enough of a gentleman to allow the ladies a few words to themselves, concerning matters that mean little to him - though he does log the fact that Rogue is attending Emmerson for possible future use. As they talk, he motions for the hovering server to fill that third and final glass with wine, before shooing him off, and placing the sanguine liquid in front of Rogue. "University is a big step, my dear," he states, very seriously, "Especially for you, since it means moving out from under the watchful eye of Charles and living on your own." He lifts his wine glass again and points to the one he's given to her. "So, a toast then. To such adult accomplishments. May your studies take you far in life." If, that is, she manages to survive the next couple of years.
Jean is not going to let on that she's impressed by the choice of wine. Not at all. No, she's just going to sip at her own glass of it with the proper appreciation that such a vintage deserves, and remain neutral towards the purchaser of it. She allows Magneto his little speech, raises her glass again, and leaves Rogue to answer him, bar her own cool interjection that "Rogue's a big girl, she's smart, confident and competant, and we have every confidence in her." A pause. "Unlike some organizations, the School encourages individual thinking, despite the propaganda about us that I've been hearing back from some of your younger recruits, Eric." And then Jean falls silent as the jambalya is delivered discreetly, letting Rogue and Magneto have their talk without further interruption. Well, at least not at the moment.
Rogue does her best to school her look so that it doesn't let on that she'd absoloutly love to remove Magnus from her misery right now. "Like Jean said, the school educates it's students so that they're intelligent and compitent, if they so choose, but, as it's said, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink," is stated with a shrug. "I'm just glad I decided to learn," is given, before she raises her glass of water.
There must be something wrong with the Master of Magnetism tonight, for once again, he allows the subtle comment that Jean makes about the way he runs his organization to slip past him like so much water under the bridge. Atleast, he was willing to, until she states that some of his younger recruits have been spreading stories. "I am sorry if your own organization has received some unpopular attention on our behalf, my dear, but in the Brotherhood, we promote freedom of speech. Telling my followers to limit themselves in discussion is something I simply cannot do." He then holds his free hand up in an act of suplication. To Rogue, he raises a brow, and looks pointedly at the good wine going to waste in front of her. "Something wrong, my dear? Do you not like the vintage?" At the younger woman's mention of 'learning', Magneto remembers something else that they should discuss. "Speaking of education. Rogue, have you been taking courses on how to shapeshift? Though I realize that it is beyond your capabilities, it has come to my attention that you and Mystique have been seen together - several times..." He leaves off the sentence with a slightly questionning tone, giving her plenty of time to answer while he sips at his wine somemore.
"There's an unsubtle legal distinction between freedom of speech and slander." is all Jean replies to that, and indeed all that she replies at all, setting her wineglass down and making a start on the jambalya, not nearly as surprised by what Rogue's been up to as some might hope. LiveJournals and email lists are useful things, don't you know.
Rogue shakes her head. "No, you have fine taste in wine, Eric," she offers quite simply. "I'm just in a water mood today," Marie shrugs, taking a sip of said water. "If you can count two visible times as several, than yes. I believe I'm permitted to associate with whomever I choose," is given towards her favorite buckethead. "And, if you're saying this to get someone from the school annoyed, it won't happen, those who matter, know, and if they don't they give me my freedom."
"Details, details," Magneto chuckles, waving away Jean's distinction. He's in a forgiving mood tonight, and is so enjoying the banter. After eyeing the jumbalaya, however, the old man decides against ordering any food from this establishment. Perhaps a little too spicy for his tastes. Instead, he'll just stick to his wine. Rogue's little show of spirit does not go by unnoticed, and his smile turns a bit sour at her assumption. "Not at all, my dear. I am simply concerned with your own safety, 'tis all. I, more than anyone, can tell you that she is a very intollerant person, and I would hate for you to accidentally set her off." Yet another sip of wine. "It would not... be pleasant. I doubt our dear Charles would like to see you get hurt either."
"Your concern is touching, Eric, considering how little of it you've shown in the past," Jean points out, lifting an eyebrow and inhaling with eyes pleasantly watering at the spice of her cajun cuisine. "As much as it pains me to admit it, you and I are more than a little alike, in some ways. I rarely have just one reason for doing anything, so I have to wonder, what reasons do -you- have... I could peek, but that would be cheating." Chasing down some random bit of seafood, she tries the taste with a little wine, and then falls silent again.
Rogue scowls. "If that happens I can handle myself, and I know where the panic button is," well, not in a literal sense of the word. "As it is, Mystique and I are on speaking terms, though not dear friends, aquaintances, I believe, is the sufficiant word," she states before consuming some of her own jumbalaya. To Jean she quirks a brow, and chuckles. "Yah, but at least yer nice about it Jeannie..."
Magneto can be nice. Hasn't he been nice? Isn't he being nice right now? "Let's say that I'm trying to mend my evil ways," he offers to 'Jeannie', smiling in spite of himself over the quaint little nickname the doctor's once student offers up to her. His eyes narrow at the mention of cheating, however. The amount of wine he's ingested, though small, would be enough to make 'peeking' a fairly simple chore for the Pheonix, were she so inclined to try. "I thought we said that we were going to stay polite?" he questions, his tone bordering on angry, but not quite to that point yet.
"I just said I -wasn't- going to peek," Jean points out gently, the telepath apparently on a sort of emotional sliding scale with the manipulator of the metallic realm where the more keyed up he gets, the more relaxed she grows. "I'd say that's fairly polite, considering past history... and you've never considered what you do to be evil, so why would you think your ways needed mending?" is wondered, a lift of an eyebrow accompanying a tone that relegates the question to the realm of academic debate, not too unfamiliar territory for the educated Mr. Lensherr.
Rogue sits back and watches, letting Jean make her point. "Polite, you..." she could say more, but she won't, instead she'll sip at her water, and eat her food.
Jean may not have realized it - or then again, perhaps she had - but her little academic-based comment has brought Magneto back from the edge of anger. Warming to this debate, he replies, "I was simply replying in such a manner that you and the young lady here could understand. That is not to say that either of you are stupid, but you do have your own opinions, and my constant reminding that what I do is for the betterment of all mutants can do nothing to shake those opinions. Therefore, calling myself 'evil' was purely for your sake." Leaning back in his chair, he moves to undo the buttons of his jacket, getting comfortable. The smile even returns to his face. "Politeness is a form of manners, and I have impecable manners, that you know. That you see my actions as uncivil... Well, that is certainly not my fault. Perhaps it is you who needs to rethink your beliefs." See? Isn't fighting more fun when you use words instead of knives? Less mess too.
Jean's probably aware of such things, having spent the past few years keeping one Scott Summers on an even keel by just that sort of subtle editing of tone and content. And she doesn't like Magneto a fraction of the amount she still cares for her ex, so there's even less guilt at that sort of subtle situational control. Actually, who are we kidding? There's no guilt at all. Dispatching a few more forkfuls of her meal and gesturing to Rogue to partake of her own dinner, Jean gives a gracious smile and another nod. "Your consideration is much appreciated... and while my views may closely parallel those of my mentor's, they're ones that I've arrived at by my own research. Perhaps if, like you, my life had been hard enough that I too was forced to give up on hope, I might have come to accept your view of the world. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to stay an idealist for the moment. I've seen too much evidence to support my own position, you see. What do you think, Rogue?"
Rogue does as suggested, and gradually eats her dinner, ensuring that she's always got a constant eye on Magnus. "Hmm, I do agree with you Jean, besides, being an idealist is more fun than the other options," she states in as calm and cool a voice she can manage. "Anyway, I think some people are just better suited to idealism, though, I can't say, I've never been through what you have..."
If it was all based on past experiences, then how would you explain Rogue's addition to the X-men? Or a multitude of the other students currently being taught at Xavier's. "I dare to disagree," the Master of Magnetism drawls, swirling the remnants of the wine in his glass idly as he ponders Jean's words. Not that he believe her ideas to be worth changing his own for, as Magneto is far too stubborn for that. "Our personal histories do help to mold us, but they are not all to blame." Though, in his case, they mostly are. He just won't admit to it. "And idealism is for the young," he adds to Rogue, trying to drag more of her thoughts out on this subject - though he's certain they're closely related to those of Jean. "Once you've hit my age, you realize that there are only certain things within your control and so you try to alter them to your liking. We can't change everyone, however, which is something your dear Professor Charles appears to have forgotten." No, you cannot change them, but you can certainly do your damnest to force them into fearing you, and that's good enough, in Eric's mind.
"Personally, I agree with you as to the effects of history on a person, and the -limits- of those effects," Jean agrees readily enough, even if this merely means she'll disagree all the harder elsewhere. "I simply wanted to give you a chance to embrace a philosophy that would let you explain your motives easily, if that's the way your philosophy truly worked." A pause and a little smile over the edge of her wineglass, jambalya now abandoned in favour of the sort of debates she used to have in Harvard pubs... except for the small wrinkle that she's having one with her sworn enemy and all that sort of thing. Crossing her ankles neatly under the table, she gestures with her wineglass and gives an expansive shrug. "You're mistaken if you think the Professor hopes to change everyone's mind. To quote Rushdie, 'Free people strike sparks, and those sparks are the best evidences of freedom's existance'." Uh-oh, Jean's bringing out quotations. Thank you, Beast. "If everyone htought the same way, there'd be no sparks. We just want to change those whose opinions make policy. For example, there are still KKK members away up in the high hills, but the government no longer supports their activities, and so they're rendered impotent. I look to the future and see hope. You look to the future and see your fear of them replaced by their fear of you. Hope and fear... we can wrap all our arguments up in pretty philosophical packages, but it all comes down to the sort of future we'd feel safe in."
Rogue quirks a brow. "You forget Magnus, mentality wise I may as well be near your age," she points out. "And I do not believe that the Professor has forgotten that, it is my personal belief that he tries to bring out the best in the students who pass through the halls of the school. Some, of course, will never change, others, however, do, and are all the better for it," she offers with a sip of water. "Now, idealism, though you may be under the impression that it is for the young, striving for a world inwhich everything where ideal may well work in some cases, so long as you believe that there is a very good chance they will never be teh way you want them," she offers, nodding as Jean offers her own arguement.
Magneto is fully engrossed now in the conversation, and he's almost - but not quite - impressed with the arguments that the two women before him are offering up. Of course, considering who their mentor is, it's no wonder. Which gives him pause... If all they're going to do is rehash the same old, tired points that he and Charles have already gone over countless times, then there's no reason for them to continue on much further, now is there? Therefore, rather than reply to either of them, he simply lets out a rather loud and ruckus burst of laughter, something fairly out of the ordinary for the Master of Magnetism. Then again, this whole evening has been less than normal. "Bravo, bravo," he exclaims, clapping his hands after putting aside his wine glass. "Here I was afraid that my sudden interuption into your affairs might have dulled your senses, seeing how you types usually respond with anger to my presence. But it would appear that I was wrong. It's good to see that your physical training has not shrunk the size or ability of your brains."
If Magneto had actually been impressed by just one conversation with Jean, the Phoenix would have to wonder if perhaps Eric met up with Charles while they were both in Europe, and had had part of his brain hijacked. But the sudden bark of subject-closing laughter is an admission in and of itself, and so Jean merely smiles, and toasts the Master of Magnetism with the last of her glass of wine. "Ah, but Eric, you forget the most of the time, bar the Professor, you're running into the men on the team. While our abilities sort of... negate... the traditional strength advantage, woman -do- classically prefer to talk instead of fight. Thank you for the wine."
Rogue nods slightly. "Naw, fightin' can be fun Jean, just so long as you know you ain't gonna lose," is pointed out with a shrug. "Actually, though, I do tend to agree, we do like to talk our way out of things, don't we?" a shrug is given as she turns her attentiong back towards Magnus. "Just cause some of them are your classic all muscles no brain style, or seem to be, doesn't mean we don't actually try to learn somethin while we're at it."
Ok, so he's not -that- impressed. But to have had a discussion of this depth with a woman - two of them, to be exact - and youngs one at that! Well, don't you think that that deserves a tip of a hat? Or helmet, in his case. Magneto's own wife did nothing much mutter about how much she was afraid of him and his powers... As for the other women in his life, well ... let's just leave them out of this, shall we? "Well then, next time we happen to meet, I'll be sure to bring along a table and more wine, and perhaps the more intelligent of us can sit down and discuss things like humans." Yes, that was faintly laced with sarcasm, as they both know too well that when it comes down to meeting head on, Eric still prefers brute force over rational discourse. And it seems that he has an unsung ally with Rogue on that account. "Yes, my dear," he tells her. "Fighting can be fun, especially when you know that you cannot lose. It is that thought that makes the winner even more powerful." Alas, it can also work against you though, particularly when your ego receives a smashing blow. But that's another point that Magnus prefers to gloss over. "You are more than welcome for the wine, but I must thank -you- for the stimulating conversation. However, you will have to excuse me. I have other affairs to attend to, and I see that the singer you were enjoying earlier has returned for her second set."
Jean stays out of the discussion on fighting, but there's a distinctly... odd... smile gracing Dr. Grey's lips, all at once appallingly confident and speaking of a 'I know something you don't' quality of enigma. After all, the reason for her new code name is know to, oh, about 6 or 7 people, and only one or two of them have actually seen her in action. While not quite giving in to hubris, Jean's silence covers sitting and mapping out the physical lay of Magneto's brain quite neatly, pinpointing weak spots as a sort of spiritual exercise. She could win, and they don't need to know it. -There's- the fun for her. "Real fighting should be avoided when possible, and finished decisively when necessary. But I agree that a good sparring session can be fun. Especailly a verbal one," Another incline of her head to Magneto, and she takes part in farewell pleasantries. "By all means, don't let us detain you." is offered, double entendre present juuuust a little.
Rogue smirks at Magnus. "Must be where I got that particular philosophy," she states simply, finishing off her jambalaya. "Goodbye Eric, it was a pleasure to see you again," this time her comment is laced with sarcasm. "Please, don't let us detain you..." she's been nice, she has.
The dual farewells are what clinch it for him. As amusing as this bit of evening's entertainment was, Magneto knows just as well as they do that the next time they meet, this whole experience will be like thinning mist on the moors - barely memorable. At least for him. Still, he has learned a few new little tid bits of information which may come in handy sometime in the future - and that, along with the whole humor of the situation, was well worth the snide comments that he had to indure. "Fare well, my dears. Enjoy your show. I'm certain that we shall see each other sometime soon." Pushing himself out of the booth, the man then re-buttons his jacket and takes out his wallet, leaving behind a large amount of cash to pay for the wine, their meal, and to cover the tip. "Say hello to Charles for me, will you?" That said, he then strides towards the exit and then out into the darkness of evening he dissapears.
Well... that was interesting to say the least.
A quiet dinner out at Sweet Basil with Rogue turned... well, yes, that's the second time in two sentences I'm going to use the word 'interesting', but that's the best descriptor I can give right now.
Interesting. Yeah.
Eric Lensherr was apparently posessed of the same yen for a quiet evening out. Invited himself over to our table with some cock and bull story about 'catching up with old friends'. This, after I got clear first ideas off of him involving large numbers of flying steak knives. Still, he knows the sort of good manners that go into public dining at a good jazz club as well as I do, so he changed his mind, and arrived with his arrogant self and a bottle of good wine.
Out of curiosity and a bit of one-upmanship, we had him sit. And we talked. And said absolutely nothing that changed either side's mind. But yeah...
Philosophical debate over good wine in a good club, just like in Harvard. Except, y'know, with our Arch Enemy and Evil Nemesis and all that.
Was anything accomplished besides getting a few subtle digs in at him?
Got me.
Professor, I'll be seeing you directly.
OOC: The log! And proof that not all battles are fought with fists, weapons or mutant powers.
X-Men MUCK - Saturday, September 27, 2003, 6:05 PM
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< NYC > Sweet Basil < NYC >
Undoubtedly one of the finest jazz clubs to be found in the southern sectors of Manhattan, and most definitely in Greenwich, Sweet Basil has seen the faces of some of the greatest jazz legends to cross the planet in its time. A relatively down-home charm manner of club, low-key and looking as though it belongs more in New Orleans than New York, many evenings can simply be wasted away being serenaded within the walls of the Sweet Basil, which, in turn, are plastered with black-and-white photographs of the legends that have graced this club's demure little stage and polished wooden floors.
[Exits : [O]ut ]
[Players : Rogue, Magneto ]
The lights are appropriately dim in Sweet Basil this evening, bar for the footlamps of the stage, where a lone young alto is soulfully crooning classic jazz to the acompaniement of guitar, bass and a slow drum set. Already half-full, a few tables sport tasteful 'reserved' signs, but most of the remaining are available free and clear. It's to one of these that a pair of women is headed, one tall and auburn haired, dressed for a day's business, while the other (At least to those whom Jean's touching with a light psionic illusion) is wearing Rogue's favourite garb of No Exposed Skin Anywhere and looks rather like the college student she is. "I tell you, Rogue, we picked a good night to catch up on things. The singer performing tonight is a real up-and-comer. And the menu's fairly good too."
Rogue grins and offers a nods towards Jean. "I'll take your word on that," the young woman states, with a slight laugh. Those who don't get to see Rogue in her favorite outfit, see her in one that consists of leggings, a worn coat and shirt. The gloves are also tattered and worn. Rogue's gloves consist of, well, no fingers, therefore, serve no purpose. "Actually, it'll be great to catch up with someone who knows something about me," she states with a slight laugh, offering a smile to her favorite doctor.
It's to one of those 'reserved' tables that a tall, gray-haired man is eventually led by the hostess, once the first set of music is completed. Dressed from head to toe in varying metallic shades, the character blends in nicely with the shadows, which is ideal for him, considering the fact that he'd prefer to keep a low profile on his evening out. Seems like the jazz singer isn't the only one who's going solo tonight. Arriving at his table, Magneto removes his jacket and takes a seat, pleased to find that the cutlery is clean and the ambiance soothing. After the week he's had, a bit of relaxation is a must.
Jean collects a pair of menus from their waitress and ushers Rogue into the booth ahead of her, letting her own body act as a barrier between Rogue and any passerby unaware of the Supremely Bad Idea that is bumping into Ms. D'Ancanto. Requesting "Just a carafe of water and two glasses for now," of their server and giving a politely friendly smile, Dr. Grey soon settles back to relax and enjoy herself, letting the illusion fade and projecting a much less intense and much less invasive Somebody Else's Problem field instead, keyed to norm minds rather than the more difficult mutant ones. "I know the feeling," she replies with dry reminisce. "I could hardly wait for weekends home from Harvard when I was slaving away there, an excuse to let my hair down around people who knew me. But how are you doing, Rogue?" A concerned glance takes in the girl's attire. "You'd mentioned some memory problems in addition to the costume change?"
Rogue offers Jean a thankful smile as she settles into the booth, at least the jacket has sleeves. "It's not that bad at Emerson, actually, I know if things get too bad I've got a place to run," is offered, before shrugging. "I think I might be getting to know how Logan feels everyday, just not quite so extreme," she laughs a bit. "I think it's along the lines of in the movie Anastasia has no recollection of anything before the orphanage, and, well, the school kinda plays the same role..." As of right now, she doesn't notice the one person she loves to hate, or however that works.
"A bottle of your finest wine," is the drink order given to his server, before Magneto allows his gaze to roam around the room. He's not searching for anything in particular, but with a mind that's always thinking, it's possible that a quick glance at something might give him some ideas. What he does eventually find, however, gives him more than just an idea - it causes an eruption of thoughts and rather distasteful expressions to burst within his mental confines. Yes, he's caught sight of the two X-men seated across the room, and it takes a lot of control for him to halt his innitial urge of sending every steak knife in the place flying towards them. Once that's been taken care of, he begins to form another idea, this one just as deadly, but on a much more subtle level. In fact, this plan should be more shocking - and less expected - than any physical attack.
Mental confines that... aren't so confined when you're Dr. Jean Grey, primary protegee of the most powerful brain on the planet. Especially not when that quickly-restrained eruption of thoughts contains a number of ideas that would prove quite personally painful. Jean jerks suddenly in her seat, but, since she's not dining alone, continues to offer small talk while scanning the room behind Rogue's head, looking for... ah. Magneto. A fencer's nod and the sort of polite 'I smile because manners are more important than killing you at the moment' smile that women of her social strata have mastered, and Jean returns to looking at her menu. "And, strangely enough, Logan's memory is doing a little better lately. -He- attributes it to having a telepath parked in his head now and again, I think it's just self-healing... but the following the script of a fairytale thing would fit with what I'm seeing in others. Bella Miller is Sleeping Beauty, of all things." she chats, running a finger down the selections. "I think I'll go for the jambalya, try and clear my palate after the Cajun's wretched attempt at it... and of course this makes me wonder who Prince Charming is. I'd die laughing if it were Eric Lensherr stuffed into a pair of tights."
Rogue is thankful she's not a telepath, or she'd probably be asking every god if they where out to get her, or something. "I'm glad to hear that Jeannie," she offers. "You've been a blessing, when it comes to Logan, and anything that helps my big brother, is good. Really? Sleeping Beauty, rather ammusing, but, then, a couple days ago I met Peter Pan, so, everything's a little ammusing these days, if not infuriating," declares 'Anastasia' before she ponders. "That sounds good, I'll have the same," she actually likes the stuff, oddly. At Dr. Grey's comment as Eric being Prince Charming just sends Rogue into a fit of laughter. "Oh, now that's just plain ammusing."
Be thankful that Eric has yet to leave his seat to join them, else that little giggle over him dressed as Prince Charming might have made him rethink his original plan of sending in the steak knives. However, it's only just now that he moves from his table and strides over to theirs, after leaving a comment to the server to bring over two extras glasses to his new seating arrangements. Comming to stand less than a foot away, Magneto clears his throat and states, "Well, well now. What chance hath occured that made for all of us to meet up together like this?" He smiles, bowing to them both. "Good evening, Dr. Grey. You are looking as lovely as ever. And Rogue, you are looking -particularly- interesting. College life cuting into your clothing budget, by chance?"
Jean doesn't laugh at her own joke, since she's occupied with keeping an eye on just what Magneto's up to, but the elder woman -does- offer a thoroughly editorial waggle of an eyebrow and a quick smirk before pouring them both a glass of water. Just in time for the Master of Magnetism himself to show up. The smirk and animation suddenly vanish behind as serene a game face as any Charles Xavier might be seen wearing. Which only makes sense, since it was he who taught her the trick of -that-, too. "Chance? Well, they -do- say that that gods like playing games with the lives of men." is offered in return, with another poised nod. "And likewise, Mr. Lensherr. Will you sit and join us, since that seems to be what you were intending to do anyways?" Her tone is perfectly polite, but... Jean's not Charles, even if she's trying to come off like him, and she can't -quite- resist a little jab.
Rogue offers a nod to Jean as the water is poured. quirks a brow upon hearing that oh-so-familiar voice before she looks up. Now her brow's not quirked, she's just scowling. "I believe my budget is none of your business, Eric," she offers quite simply and with as little venom as she can. "How are you doing today?" plastering of the fake grin is done. Rogue is certainly no Jean, much less the Proff, so there's no way she can pull off anything near perfectly polite... but she tries, and that's what counts.
That's the problem with dining in public... You can't always wear what you want, unless you want to attract the attention of everyone and their neighbour. Which is why Magneto's current attire is presently lacking in something - a helmet, to be exact. Tapping at his temple, he tsk's. "Now, now Jean. That's not fair. Particularly since I'm only trying to be polite. Seems my little trip to Europe made me homesick and I'm only now getting around to visiting some of my dearest friends." That said, he then turns to face Rogue, "And I am doing superb, my dear. Thank you for asking." Just then, the server returns with the glasses and wine and so Eric does as Jean requests and joins them at their table. "I took the liberty of ordering us all a little celebratory drink. I hope you'll be so kind as to share it with me in a toast?"
"Trust me, Eric," replies Jean with a sweet smile and a slight bit of emphasis on the first name, since Magneto's apparently decided to play Familiar Old Friend tonight. "I would prefer to keep as neatly out of your thoughts as possible. I just happen to understand a bit about human nature and various personalities as well." Translation: she guessed. Accurately, it would seem. She scootches over a little more, now putting herself between Rogue and Magneto instead of Rogue and the rest of the world, and endeavours to be polite, since that's the game being played tonight. If the Professor can play chess with him, than she, surely, can do no less than to have a somewhat civil drink. "Dearest friends? I'm flattered. No hard feelings about the prison sentence then? Or did you go to visit Bella and find a confused welcome? And I have to admit, you've got a good eye for wine, so I can't see why I should say no." A pause and another of the honeyed-arsenic smiles. "Unless you've been busy building up a tolerance to iocaine powder."
Rogue continues with the fake smile. "Dearest friends?" she quirks a brow, before shrugging it off and playing the quiet one in this game of polite. "Oh, you're welcome, I do hope you had a... superb vacation," is given with her typical southern drawl, before returning to letting Jeannie do the talking.
Magneto offers them both that small smile of his - the one that borders on looking slightly insane, when accompanied by a wide eyed gaze. "Why Jean, I too know all too well about human nature, particularly the side of it that involves revoking differences and denying change. But I digress. We are here to celebrate my return, and not discuss ideologies, unless, of course, you want to hear my tired old reasons all over again?" He nods his head in Rogue's direction. "I'm sure our young friend here has heard them enough from her time spent under my care that she could probably talk about them in her sleep." The mention of jail time is glossed over, but the comment concerning Bella does cause a tic to start in his left eye. "My return home was slightly shocking to a few of my followers, that I must admit, but it's nothing that I cannot fix." The wine bottle is corked and then served, and Eric raises his glass in a toast. "No poisons here, my dears. Just a joy of being able to return to the work I so love. Can't begrudge a man for his career, now can you?"
Jean's expression remains fixedly intelligent and politely unreadable, her chin tilted -just- a bit sideways to let her body language suggest a relaxed listening, but the little tic appearing at the mention of Bella doesn't go unnoticed to the doctor's gaze. Her lips curve up very slightly for a moment, as a mark is made on some mental scoreboard of Phoenix vs. Magneto, but she camouflages it with a fuller smile and a gentle nod. "And here I thought Rogue and I were simply here for a quiet dinner out and some catching up... You learn something every day. And... don't be too sure about 'fixing' Bella Miller, Eric. She's more mentally stable in this state, not to mention -happier-, than she's been in months. But of course, you'd not have known that, having been away. And so, to returns, and the resuming of business as usual." she offers, raising her own glass smoothly. The business of foiling plans, at least! "So, Rogue, as I was wondering, how is Emerson?" the woman wonders, deftly turning the topic of conversation away from Magneto again.
Rogue turns her attention from Magnus to Jean. "Emerson's been good, classes certainly aren't as easy as at the school, but they're not too bad," she offers a slight laugh. "But I'm certianly not top of my class, nor near your standings," is given with a slight smile. "I've a few friends there, most people are... I don't know, my friends say intrigued... by my outfits, before this whole fairytale disaster," Marie offers a shrug, not even offering a look towards the wine.
Sipping at his wine to hide his emotions about Bella, Magneto therefore deems to ignore them, and allows the whole list of comments made by Jean to simply slip past him. He's enough of a gentleman to allow the ladies a few words to themselves, concerning matters that mean little to him - though he does log the fact that Rogue is attending Emmerson for possible future use. As they talk, he motions for the hovering server to fill that third and final glass with wine, before shooing him off, and placing the sanguine liquid in front of Rogue. "University is a big step, my dear," he states, very seriously, "Especially for you, since it means moving out from under the watchful eye of Charles and living on your own." He lifts his wine glass again and points to the one he's given to her. "So, a toast then. To such adult accomplishments. May your studies take you far in life." If, that is, she manages to survive the next couple of years.
Jean is not going to let on that she's impressed by the choice of wine. Not at all. No, she's just going to sip at her own glass of it with the proper appreciation that such a vintage deserves, and remain neutral towards the purchaser of it. She allows Magneto his little speech, raises her glass again, and leaves Rogue to answer him, bar her own cool interjection that "Rogue's a big girl, she's smart, confident and competant, and we have every confidence in her." A pause. "Unlike some organizations, the School encourages individual thinking, despite the propaganda about us that I've been hearing back from some of your younger recruits, Eric." And then Jean falls silent as the jambalya is delivered discreetly, letting Rogue and Magneto have their talk without further interruption. Well, at least not at the moment.
Rogue does her best to school her look so that it doesn't let on that she'd absoloutly love to remove Magnus from her misery right now. "Like Jean said, the school educates it's students so that they're intelligent and compitent, if they so choose, but, as it's said, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink," is stated with a shrug. "I'm just glad I decided to learn," is given, before she raises her glass of water.
There must be something wrong with the Master of Magnetism tonight, for once again, he allows the subtle comment that Jean makes about the way he runs his organization to slip past him like so much water under the bridge. Atleast, he was willing to, until she states that some of his younger recruits have been spreading stories. "I am sorry if your own organization has received some unpopular attention on our behalf, my dear, but in the Brotherhood, we promote freedom of speech. Telling my followers to limit themselves in discussion is something I simply cannot do." He then holds his free hand up in an act of suplication. To Rogue, he raises a brow, and looks pointedly at the good wine going to waste in front of her. "Something wrong, my dear? Do you not like the vintage?" At the younger woman's mention of 'learning', Magneto remembers something else that they should discuss. "Speaking of education. Rogue, have you been taking courses on how to shapeshift? Though I realize that it is beyond your capabilities, it has come to my attention that you and Mystique have been seen together - several times..." He leaves off the sentence with a slightly questionning tone, giving her plenty of time to answer while he sips at his wine somemore.
"There's an unsubtle legal distinction between freedom of speech and slander." is all Jean replies to that, and indeed all that she replies at all, setting her wineglass down and making a start on the jambalya, not nearly as surprised by what Rogue's been up to as some might hope. LiveJournals and email lists are useful things, don't you know.
Rogue shakes her head. "No, you have fine taste in wine, Eric," she offers quite simply. "I'm just in a water mood today," Marie shrugs, taking a sip of said water. "If you can count two visible times as several, than yes. I believe I'm permitted to associate with whomever I choose," is given towards her favorite buckethead. "And, if you're saying this to get someone from the school annoyed, it won't happen, those who matter, know, and if they don't they give me my freedom."
"Details, details," Magneto chuckles, waving away Jean's distinction. He's in a forgiving mood tonight, and is so enjoying the banter. After eyeing the jumbalaya, however, the old man decides against ordering any food from this establishment. Perhaps a little too spicy for his tastes. Instead, he'll just stick to his wine. Rogue's little show of spirit does not go by unnoticed, and his smile turns a bit sour at her assumption. "Not at all, my dear. I am simply concerned with your own safety, 'tis all. I, more than anyone, can tell you that she is a very intollerant person, and I would hate for you to accidentally set her off." Yet another sip of wine. "It would not... be pleasant. I doubt our dear Charles would like to see you get hurt either."
"Your concern is touching, Eric, considering how little of it you've shown in the past," Jean points out, lifting an eyebrow and inhaling with eyes pleasantly watering at the spice of her cajun cuisine. "As much as it pains me to admit it, you and I are more than a little alike, in some ways. I rarely have just one reason for doing anything, so I have to wonder, what reasons do -you- have... I could peek, but that would be cheating." Chasing down some random bit of seafood, she tries the taste with a little wine, and then falls silent again.
Rogue scowls. "If that happens I can handle myself, and I know where the panic button is," well, not in a literal sense of the word. "As it is, Mystique and I are on speaking terms, though not dear friends, aquaintances, I believe, is the sufficiant word," she states before consuming some of her own jumbalaya. To Jean she quirks a brow, and chuckles. "Yah, but at least yer nice about it Jeannie..."
Magneto can be nice. Hasn't he been nice? Isn't he being nice right now? "Let's say that I'm trying to mend my evil ways," he offers to 'Jeannie', smiling in spite of himself over the quaint little nickname the doctor's once student offers up to her. His eyes narrow at the mention of cheating, however. The amount of wine he's ingested, though small, would be enough to make 'peeking' a fairly simple chore for the Pheonix, were she so inclined to try. "I thought we said that we were going to stay polite?" he questions, his tone bordering on angry, but not quite to that point yet.
"I just said I -wasn't- going to peek," Jean points out gently, the telepath apparently on a sort of emotional sliding scale with the manipulator of the metallic realm where the more keyed up he gets, the more relaxed she grows. "I'd say that's fairly polite, considering past history... and you've never considered what you do to be evil, so why would you think your ways needed mending?" is wondered, a lift of an eyebrow accompanying a tone that relegates the question to the realm of academic debate, not too unfamiliar territory for the educated Mr. Lensherr.
Rogue sits back and watches, letting Jean make her point. "Polite, you..." she could say more, but she won't, instead she'll sip at her water, and eat her food.
Jean may not have realized it - or then again, perhaps she had - but her little academic-based comment has brought Magneto back from the edge of anger. Warming to this debate, he replies, "I was simply replying in such a manner that you and the young lady here could understand. That is not to say that either of you are stupid, but you do have your own opinions, and my constant reminding that what I do is for the betterment of all mutants can do nothing to shake those opinions. Therefore, calling myself 'evil' was purely for your sake." Leaning back in his chair, he moves to undo the buttons of his jacket, getting comfortable. The smile even returns to his face. "Politeness is a form of manners, and I have impecable manners, that you know. That you see my actions as uncivil... Well, that is certainly not my fault. Perhaps it is you who needs to rethink your beliefs." See? Isn't fighting more fun when you use words instead of knives? Less mess too.
Jean's probably aware of such things, having spent the past few years keeping one Scott Summers on an even keel by just that sort of subtle editing of tone and content. And she doesn't like Magneto a fraction of the amount she still cares for her ex, so there's even less guilt at that sort of subtle situational control. Actually, who are we kidding? There's no guilt at all. Dispatching a few more forkfuls of her meal and gesturing to Rogue to partake of her own dinner, Jean gives a gracious smile and another nod. "Your consideration is much appreciated... and while my views may closely parallel those of my mentor's, they're ones that I've arrived at by my own research. Perhaps if, like you, my life had been hard enough that I too was forced to give up on hope, I might have come to accept your view of the world. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to stay an idealist for the moment. I've seen too much evidence to support my own position, you see. What do you think, Rogue?"
Rogue does as suggested, and gradually eats her dinner, ensuring that she's always got a constant eye on Magnus. "Hmm, I do agree with you Jean, besides, being an idealist is more fun than the other options," she states in as calm and cool a voice she can manage. "Anyway, I think some people are just better suited to idealism, though, I can't say, I've never been through what you have..."
If it was all based on past experiences, then how would you explain Rogue's addition to the X-men? Or a multitude of the other students currently being taught at Xavier's. "I dare to disagree," the Master of Magnetism drawls, swirling the remnants of the wine in his glass idly as he ponders Jean's words. Not that he believe her ideas to be worth changing his own for, as Magneto is far too stubborn for that. "Our personal histories do help to mold us, but they are not all to blame." Though, in his case, they mostly are. He just won't admit to it. "And idealism is for the young," he adds to Rogue, trying to drag more of her thoughts out on this subject - though he's certain they're closely related to those of Jean. "Once you've hit my age, you realize that there are only certain things within your control and so you try to alter them to your liking. We can't change everyone, however, which is something your dear Professor Charles appears to have forgotten." No, you cannot change them, but you can certainly do your damnest to force them into fearing you, and that's good enough, in Eric's mind.
"Personally, I agree with you as to the effects of history on a person, and the -limits- of those effects," Jean agrees readily enough, even if this merely means she'll disagree all the harder elsewhere. "I simply wanted to give you a chance to embrace a philosophy that would let you explain your motives easily, if that's the way your philosophy truly worked." A pause and a little smile over the edge of her wineglass, jambalya now abandoned in favour of the sort of debates she used to have in Harvard pubs... except for the small wrinkle that she's having one with her sworn enemy and all that sort of thing. Crossing her ankles neatly under the table, she gestures with her wineglass and gives an expansive shrug. "You're mistaken if you think the Professor hopes to change everyone's mind. To quote Rushdie, 'Free people strike sparks, and those sparks are the best evidences of freedom's existance'." Uh-oh, Jean's bringing out quotations. Thank you, Beast. "If everyone htought the same way, there'd be no sparks. We just want to change those whose opinions make policy. For example, there are still KKK members away up in the high hills, but the government no longer supports their activities, and so they're rendered impotent. I look to the future and see hope. You look to the future and see your fear of them replaced by their fear of you. Hope and fear... we can wrap all our arguments up in pretty philosophical packages, but it all comes down to the sort of future we'd feel safe in."
Rogue quirks a brow. "You forget Magnus, mentality wise I may as well be near your age," she points out. "And I do not believe that the Professor has forgotten that, it is my personal belief that he tries to bring out the best in the students who pass through the halls of the school. Some, of course, will never change, others, however, do, and are all the better for it," she offers with a sip of water. "Now, idealism, though you may be under the impression that it is for the young, striving for a world inwhich everything where ideal may well work in some cases, so long as you believe that there is a very good chance they will never be teh way you want them," she offers, nodding as Jean offers her own arguement.
Magneto is fully engrossed now in the conversation, and he's almost - but not quite - impressed with the arguments that the two women before him are offering up. Of course, considering who their mentor is, it's no wonder. Which gives him pause... If all they're going to do is rehash the same old, tired points that he and Charles have already gone over countless times, then there's no reason for them to continue on much further, now is there? Therefore, rather than reply to either of them, he simply lets out a rather loud and ruckus burst of laughter, something fairly out of the ordinary for the Master of Magnetism. Then again, this whole evening has been less than normal. "Bravo, bravo," he exclaims, clapping his hands after putting aside his wine glass. "Here I was afraid that my sudden interuption into your affairs might have dulled your senses, seeing how you types usually respond with anger to my presence. But it would appear that I was wrong. It's good to see that your physical training has not shrunk the size or ability of your brains."
If Magneto had actually been impressed by just one conversation with Jean, the Phoenix would have to wonder if perhaps Eric met up with Charles while they were both in Europe, and had had part of his brain hijacked. But the sudden bark of subject-closing laughter is an admission in and of itself, and so Jean merely smiles, and toasts the Master of Magnetism with the last of her glass of wine. "Ah, but Eric, you forget the most of the time, bar the Professor, you're running into the men on the team. While our abilities sort of... negate... the traditional strength advantage, woman -do- classically prefer to talk instead of fight. Thank you for the wine."
Rogue nods slightly. "Naw, fightin' can be fun Jean, just so long as you know you ain't gonna lose," is pointed out with a shrug. "Actually, though, I do tend to agree, we do like to talk our way out of things, don't we?" a shrug is given as she turns her attentiong back towards Magnus. "Just cause some of them are your classic all muscles no brain style, or seem to be, doesn't mean we don't actually try to learn somethin while we're at it."
Ok, so he's not -that- impressed. But to have had a discussion of this depth with a woman - two of them, to be exact - and youngs one at that! Well, don't you think that that deserves a tip of a hat? Or helmet, in his case. Magneto's own wife did nothing much mutter about how much she was afraid of him and his powers... As for the other women in his life, well ... let's just leave them out of this, shall we? "Well then, next time we happen to meet, I'll be sure to bring along a table and more wine, and perhaps the more intelligent of us can sit down and discuss things like humans." Yes, that was faintly laced with sarcasm, as they both know too well that when it comes down to meeting head on, Eric still prefers brute force over rational discourse. And it seems that he has an unsung ally with Rogue on that account. "Yes, my dear," he tells her. "Fighting can be fun, especially when you know that you cannot lose. It is that thought that makes the winner even more powerful." Alas, it can also work against you though, particularly when your ego receives a smashing blow. But that's another point that Magnus prefers to gloss over. "You are more than welcome for the wine, but I must thank -you- for the stimulating conversation. However, you will have to excuse me. I have other affairs to attend to, and I see that the singer you were enjoying earlier has returned for her second set."
Jean stays out of the discussion on fighting, but there's a distinctly... odd... smile gracing Dr. Grey's lips, all at once appallingly confident and speaking of a 'I know something you don't' quality of enigma. After all, the reason for her new code name is know to, oh, about 6 or 7 people, and only one or two of them have actually seen her in action. While not quite giving in to hubris, Jean's silence covers sitting and mapping out the physical lay of Magneto's brain quite neatly, pinpointing weak spots as a sort of spiritual exercise. She could win, and they don't need to know it. -There's- the fun for her. "Real fighting should be avoided when possible, and finished decisively when necessary. But I agree that a good sparring session can be fun. Especailly a verbal one," Another incline of her head to Magneto, and she takes part in farewell pleasantries. "By all means, don't let us detain you." is offered, double entendre present juuuust a little.
Rogue smirks at Magnus. "Must be where I got that particular philosophy," she states simply, finishing off her jambalaya. "Goodbye Eric, it was a pleasure to see you again," this time her comment is laced with sarcasm. "Please, don't let us detain you..." she's been nice, she has.
The dual farewells are what clinch it for him. As amusing as this bit of evening's entertainment was, Magneto knows just as well as they do that the next time they meet, this whole experience will be like thinning mist on the moors - barely memorable. At least for him. Still, he has learned a few new little tid bits of information which may come in handy sometime in the future - and that, along with the whole humor of the situation, was well worth the snide comments that he had to indure. "Fare well, my dears. Enjoy your show. I'm certain that we shall see each other sometime soon." Pushing himself out of the booth, the man then re-buttons his jacket and takes out his wallet, leaving behind a large amount of cash to pay for the wine, their meal, and to cover the tip. "Say hello to Charles for me, will you?" That said, he then strides towards the exit and then out into the darkness of evening he dissapears.