2/19 - Xorn, Jean
2/19/2008
Logfile from Jubilee.
The girl's restroom is occupied. It is occupied by a tall, robust man with a metal skull for a head and glowing blue hollows for eyes. It is also occupied by a broom and a dust pan, currently littered liberally with sparkling shards of glass that the janitor apparently missed on his last journey into this section of the school.
Jubilee pushes in through the door, talking over her shoulder to someone or other, a hand already at the button of her jeans. She turns around and skids to a stop, pushed in a few more squeaky centimeters by the closing of the door behind her. "Uh..."
Made somewhat more imposing by the cramped and mundane setting of the restroom, Xorn holds the staff of his broom with both hands and looks blankly at Jubilee. His permanent grin is bright under the flourescent lights. "Hello."
He outblanks her, but she sure gives it a try. "Hello. Um. Professor Xorn, right?" Her tone makes it sound like he could introduce himself as the Queen of England and she wouldn't be surprised.
It helps when you do not actually have a face. "Yes that is my name. You are Jubilation." The broom lifts a bit, then falls again. "I am sweeping."
Jubilee looks down, then back up, her thumb still hooked in the waistband of her pants. "I see that." A pause while she wrinkles her forehead in thought. "Um. /Why/?"
"There is glass. It is dangerous." He gives a little sweep by way of example, then taps the bristles off against the edge of the pan. "I was alerted by a student."
She nods slowly, and all is illuminated. "Ok. Are you done?" She squeezes her button between her thumb and forefinger and tilts her head to lift a brow at him.
Steel glints as that obscure head tips down to peer at the floor, calculates, and then lifts again. "No." There is still glass.
"Oh." Jubilee follows his look, then blinks back up at him. "Okay then. Um. I'll just go find another one ta use then?" She lets go of her button to reach for the door behind her and open it.
There is a sad little silence when she turns to go, and Xorn is left with his broom and a few pale slivers of his own reflection sharp on the floor. "You are very pretty."
Jubilee pauses half in the doorway and turns back to him, eyes narrowed and a hand reaching self-consciously to the stupid yellow wig. "Uh.Thanks. You're-- uh. Tall."
Static bristles through the jaw piece, coarse and loud in the contained environment of the bathroom. "Thank you." Xorn says, and his gloved hands tighten a little on the broomstick. "I could take you to dinner. It would be a date."
She blinks again, her eyes widening after to fix on his strange glowing eyes. Glowing eyes are kind of hypnotic. "Why?" Tact is not one of her strong suits.
"..." says Xorn. The broom scuffles, scuffs. He shifts his weight, and leather creaks in protest around his broad shoulders. "It would be a date." he repeats, finally. Maybe she misheard.
Jubilee turns back in the doorway and lets the door swing in behind her, held open a little by her back. She shifts from foot to foot (there /was/ a reason she came in here after all) and crinkles her nose. "Yeah. But... like. Why would you want to go on a date with /me/? How old are ya anyways?"
"I am older than you." This is not exactly a straight answer, but it isn't a lie either. "I like your hair." he tries.
Jubilee lifts both brows and assumes a snark-edged smile as she folds her arms in front of her. "It's not /really/ my hair, ya know."
"You are Asian." Xorn is very observant, in addition to being a lady's man. He tentatively goes back to sweeping, shoulders slightly hunched. "I assumed."
"You did, huh? Congratulations on bein' right!" She is being sarcastic. So sue her. At least she's being pleasantly so. She tilts her head and rocks back on her heels, opening the door a little bit more behind her. "Where'd we go?"
"Wherever you like. I do not eat." A wider sweep covers the span of the under sink area behind him, and he crouches after the dust pan. "I have heard that Italian is romantic."
"I like Italian. You're payin', right?" She files the note about not eating away for later.
"Yes." That is how dates work. Xorn does not seem bothered by the question, or its implications. He sweeps, and smiles, as always.
Jubilee shrugs and turns around to push back out through the door, dancing a little in place as she does. "Okay then. But you gotta order somethin' ta eat too. I don't wanna feel like a total pig eatin' by myself. See ya later!"
"Okay." Xorn agrees without fanfare, still sweeping, sweeping, sweeping. And leering. "Goodbye."
Xorn and Jubilee meet! Apparently Jubilee makes a good impression. ... buhwha-?
2/19/2008
=XS= Jean's Office - Lv 1 - Xavier's School
Just another step in the grand tradition of renovation that dogs all great and old houses, Jean's office has been snuck nearly seamlessly into the footprint of the mansion library. Despite the headmistress' taste for clean lines and light colours, rich oak panelling and footstep-muffling carpet in a venerable shade of forest green are the order of the day. Light is freely admitted by a large leaded glass window that looks out over the Victorian garden and its fountain, although hanging curtains in the same emerald as the carpeting can be drawn to turn the room dark enough for presentations to be shown. The central feature of the room is an imposing desk, stained dark to match the paneled walls. A modern ergonomic office chair is positioned behind it, with two uphoulstered chairs in front. A laptop rules the desk, two filing cabinets, several framed diplomas and a bookshelf hug the side wall behind it. One corner holds a thriving ficus plant, and the central piece of art in the office is a framed representation of DNArt, a small brass plaque informing observers that this is the genome of Dr. Jean Grey.
And there's Jubilee, fresh from a non-Xorn occupied bathroom. Her jeans show wet marks where she rubbed her hands dry on her thighs. She gives the door a perfunctory knock, then barges in, her mentalscape all sparky paranoia interspersed with recently manifested white stretches of indifference. "Jean."
Jean looks up from a fat stack of fundraiser forms with her glasses sliding down her nose and her hair twisted up in the sort of careless bun held in place by stabbed ballpoint pens. There is the logo of Habitat for Humanity on the forms. "What now?" she wonders, looking perhaps just a wee bit frazzled. "Are there monkeys?"
"There may be," Jubilee intones solemnly, throwing herself at the nearest chair to drape artistically across it. Or as artistically as a healing arm and other various aches and pains will allow. "Is Professor Xorn one?"
"I... haven't noticed any flinging of poo?" Jean offers, peering at Jubilee with one hand lightly rubbing at a temple. It's a familiar sort of gesture, common to many Jean/Jubilee interactions.
Hee. "He just asked me out. On a date. To eat Italian food. Even if he doesn't eat. Should I be creeped out? I mean, enough to turn down free food?" Jubilee blinks and watches Jean through eyelids narrowed to mere slits. The yellow wig isn't helping things.
Jean's eyebrows lift, then draw together, then lift some more. This amazing display of supra-ocular acrobatics seems, alas, to accomplish nothing more useful than to free up a "...What?" of bemusement from her.
The corners of Jubilee's mouth curl up and amusement colors a little more of the indifferent stretches. "He's not like... totally creepy, is he? And like old enough to be my grandpa? I mean... /Italian/."
Ah, a direct question! Jean springs into action to answer it, calling up a database on her computer and typing a X-O-R-N into it. "Aleksandr Demidov, age 54," she reads off, lips compressing. "Old enough to be your father, certainly... did he specify it was a -date-?" she wonders. "Or could he just have been trying to be friendly and coming off as creepy?"
Jubilee wrinkles her nose. "/Ew/." She purses her lips into a lemon-sucking grimace and nods. "Yeah. Date was mentioned. Several times. Oh, ick. I'm totally regretting the okay now."
"You could," Jean notes with one eyebrow remaining fixed in the 'lifted' position, "Always tell him you don't feel it was appropriate, after some thought. After all, there's Jareth and Alyssa as precedent. Although you -are- a few years removed from being a student, rather than a few months, and he never taught you. It's not really an -ethical- issue, so much as..." One hand waves vaguely, and the 'Age: 54' stares out from the computer screen at her. "Well, considering the age difference between Logan and I, I guess I shouldn't talk, but... ew."
Jubilee pinches her lips together and blows out her cheeks, then rolls her eyes and leans forward to fall off the chair into a stumbling attempt at upright. She blows the breath out noisily and bounds toward the door. "I'll do... /something/. Just checkin' on him." She adds under her breath as she waves and heads back out the door, "Glad I did. Ew. Ewewew."
Jean nods, rather distractedly, and stares back at the '54' on her computer screen some more. Then, it's back to Habitat for Humanity forms and composing emails regarding them.
All of the above?