8/4 - Jean
8/4/2008
Logfile from Jubilee.
=XS= Medbay and Lab - Lv B2 - Xavier's School
Walls are sterile white and surfaces gleam in polished stainless steel, the large room a vision of cool science tinged with the faint medical smell of antiseptic and filled with the soft whirring of autoclaves, refrigeration units, and various medical scanners and devices. Four hospital beds are present near the entrance, curtains rigged to allow for privacy, but pulled back when not in use. In shielded alcoves off the back wall are the resident doctor's pride and joy: A full-body X-Ray machine, as well as an MRI unit and other heavy-duty imagery equipment. Between the alcoves, through a thick glass window, a small operating theatre can be glimpsed. In the lab section, an electron microscope and a pair of gene-sequencers take place of pride, glassware and smaller equipment kept securely locked away in the cabinets underneath and above the work surfaces.
It seems that Jubilee just can't get away from wires and monitors and tests. Happily, the currect doctor in residence is only a mad scientist when someone's stolen the last of her cheesecake, and is dressed in very unthreatening jeans and a t-shirt, brand new, which informs all sundry that 'I Make Newton Cry'. She has a palm pilot in one hand, the remote control of a treadmill in the other, and an expression only -mildly- fiendish. "Ready for a little more speed?" she queries.
"I feel the need. I feel the need for SPEED!" Jubilee crows out, ending up on a gasp of breath as she pounds the treadmill belt harder as it picks up. She crosses her eyes at Jean and sticks out her tongue, then grabs the handles and focuses on the numbers on the display.
"If you can still quote Top Gun back to me, I think we need to up the incline too," is Jean's verdict, paired with a snort of laughter. Up the incline goes, leaving Jubilee to keep jogging at angles more like her California home. "Granted, with the sort of hills you're dealing with, I suppose I can see why you'd be able to. Heart rate's up, but still in good levels."
"Jeeeeeeaaan," Jubilee whines, then breaks off to conserve her breath. The jogging shorts and oversized t-shirt flap about her legs as they pump and she finishes up the stress test still well into the "fit" categories, if not /quite/ as well as the previous one being used as a baseline.
Jean has mercy, at least once she's gotten her data points in order. "Hmmm," she sings out, as printouts print and information decants itself to her Palm in a more tree-friendly fashion. "Well, you've got the Right Stuff," she pronounces. "Even if you're down a few percentage points from when you were in full training. Next stop's the Danger Room so I can spin you around and see what your inner ear's up to, but get yourself some juice from the fridge first."
"So sue me for like, actually havin' a life now," Jubilee retorts, bouncing off the side of the treadmill and pushing her hair off her face. She blinks brightly up at Jean and shoots a lop-sided smile.
"Working on sueing CPAM first," Jean quips, with a crook of her lips. "Although since I doubt that's going to work, I -could- point a lawyer at you. But how's California been treating you?" she wonders, grabbing up first one bottle of juice for Jubilee, and then a second for herself after a moment's thought.
Jubilee crinkles her nose and holds a hand out for the bottle, cracking the lid open with a satisfying pop once it's handed over. "Mmm. Pretty good. B average in my classes. And still gettin' bit parts every now and then. Had ta change agents though." She takes a swig of juice and snatches a towel draped over one of the treadmill arms before bouncing toward the door of the lab.
"Trouble?" Jean wonders, with a grimace at the overly-sweetened drink as she takes a sip herself. "Or just took you as far as you could go?" She follows along with a little less bounce, but with the PDA for company.
Jubilee pauses, then looks back over her shoulder, the motion showing more grace and control than typically seen from the Firecracker. She lifts her shoulder in a shrug, then starts forward again, arm held out at her side to dangle the towel just above the floor. "That's about it," she replies cryptically, a small, satisfied smile tucked into the corner of her mouth.
"Which is the 'it'?" Jean wonders, with idle curiosity and just a touch of echo as they leave the lab and enter the tiled expanse of the hallway. Nodding towards where the elevator lives, and by extension the lower floors it will take them to, she notes that "Ororo's handling the actual -training-, along with Scott, but I'll probably ask you to try a few things with your fireworks, just to make sure you're OK to be handed off to them."
Jubilee's tennis shoes squeak against the tiled floor and she slows enough to come up along side of Jean as they make for the doors. "I /have/ been practicing," she retorts, just a little miffed. She ignores the other question, pointedly keeping silent on the subject of her former agent.
"Practicing in a space suit, in a vaccuum?" wonders Jean, cocking an eyebrow from behind Jubilee.
"Oh. Well..." she allows, sheepishly rolling her eyes at Jean and making a face.
"In space," Jean intones solemnly, getting in on some of the quotation action for herself. "No-one can hear you scream. Also, considering that, while there are still molecules in a vacuum, but they're a lot more spread out, I want to make sure you can still get things going -- we never -did- figure out whether you make your plasma from what you carry with you, or hijack what's already out there. -Also-," she notes, long legs catching her up to wrap a companionable arm around Jubilee's shoulders. "You dodged the agent question."
"I guess we'll find out, then, huh?" Jubilee responds in kind with an arm wrapping around Jean's waist and tucking easily into a hug. "Usually when someone dodges a question, they don't want to talk about it. Nothin' happened. He just... well. He wasn't interested in my /career/."
"Yes, but if I have to go out and arrange an untraceable disappearance for someone who hurt you before Logan can do it..." says Jean, but lets the subject drop with a squeeze and a nod. "Glad you're shed of him, then."
Jubilee pulls away and grins unrepentantly up at her. "I can take care of myself," she assures, and the fact is written plainly across her face. They reach the elevator doors and she punches the button for the other levels. "Now, about this asteroid..."
"Big," Jean supplies. "Metal. Bits." Such helpful advice continues in a similar vein, amusement twinkling in green eyes, all the way down to the Danger Room.