Look, up in the tree!
5/3/2007
Logfile from Jubilee.
=XS= The Xavier Woods - Xavier's School
Insulating the grand old mansion at the property's heart from prying eyes, the woods across the massive expanse of the Xavier Estate are a half mile wide expanse of dense thickets, small meadows, and a carefully discreet sensor network. Perfect for time alone and away from the mansion, or for impromptu camping trips not too far from home, the maple and oak trees stretch far overhead, healthy and shade-providing in the summer and breathtaking in the autumn. Several paths wind into the woods for convenience, towards the gardens as well as just random nature trails, for the most adventurous or meekest explorer. A paved driveway curves elegantly towards where the top floors of the mansion are just visible above the treeline.
It is that time of year when New York has found a balance between being cold and obnoxiously warm and, with his finals finished, Piotr is taking advantage of the few weeks before the humidity catches up with the temperature and renders sitting outside almost unberarable for the young Siberian. He has found a crook in the trunk of a tree that leaves a wide, flat section strong enough to support his weight almost vertical, and is sitting on it with one leg bent up in front of him to prop up the sketchbook his attention is focused on, and the other hanging down almost to the ground.
Jubilee has dug a pair of skates out of some forgotten closet and is busy putting them to use again down the paved driveway when she spies the tree-bound Colossus. She skids to a stop and considers approaching, but appears reluctant to intrude. Or be intruded upon.
There is something highly medetative about drawing and, calm as he is, Piotr is so tuned out, or possibly tuned in, to the sounds of nature that he barely hears them at all. The sounds of skidding skates, though-- not so much. Looking up slowly and curiously, he sees Jubilee and offers her a smile, slow to spread but warm and genuine, and calls over to her in a quiet but carrying voice. "Jubilee. How are you?"
Jubilee is not so much with the natural appreciation. At Piotr's invitation, she stomps over, the heavy skates tearing up the grass. "Hiya," she answers, voice equally quiet. She pauses near the tree and tips her head back to give him a subdued smile. "I've heard o' kites and partridges in tree, but never Colossuses."
Piotr slides the pencil into the spiral binding of his sketchbook as Jubilee approaches, the better not to lose it amidst the very foliage he is appreciating when (not if) something unexpected happens, and turns on the branch to let both of his legs hang down, leaving a Jubilee sized space next to him and offering her an arm to pull her up if she should choose to take it. "There are not so many trees that could hold my weight, I think."
Jubilee squats down and unstraps the skates before offering her hand up to him and scrambling up the tree to settle into place next to him. "There's not a whole lot of /anything/ that'd hold you," she points out, dangling her socked feet considerable further from the ground than he.
Taking as much of Jubilee's weight as she will let him, Piotr helps her up into the space next to him then folds his arms carefully across his sketchbook held on his lap, turning his head aside to look down at his smaller companion. "You are probably right," he admits, smiling lightly as he watches her carefully.
Physically, she looks fine. Perhaps even better than fine. A couple weeks of more restful sleep and sheduled mealtimes has removed the symptoms of distress that Piotr had initially picked up on. Regular access to the gym, along with a consistent need to escape her thoughts, has begun the process of returning her to gymnastic-form. And a few days of warm weather has put color back into her skin tone. She looks up at him and blinks at the scrutiny. "I'm always right. People should just get used to it," she reply flippantly.
"Of course, it is my mistake," Piotr says, looking away to hide a smile of amusement that spreads across his face with a warmth that has been rare in the last few weeks. "You were right about Rogue coming back, too," he adds, glancing back down towards her across his shoulder.
Jubilee looks down at the ground, a patch of grass framed by small feet that touch toe and heel and pull away at the arch. She grunts an acknowledgement.
Always quiet, Piotr's voice drops even lower so that his reply, heartfelt and gentle in its reassurance, is audible to Jubilee alone in their surroundings. "You can tell me what is wrong, and I will do whatever I can to try and help you."
Jubilee startles and looks back up at him. "What? Nothing's wrong," she protests, the refrain familiar and set in predictable paths carved deep into their ruts. "Rogue's back, the telepath's've been caught. Everything's fine. Just fine." Her voice trails off and she looks away again, wrapping her hands around the edge of the limb on either side of her.
"If everything was fine, you would be a good deal more cheerful," Piotr comments quietly, turning his head to face her more fully. "I have known you for a very long time, Jubilee," he reminds her, and a look of amusement creeping momnentarily across the concern on his features. "I have spent eight years now trying to keep up with you, and now that I have, I feel that something must be wrong."
"I'm cheerful, see?" Jubilee looks at him and smiles broadly, holding the expression for a moment before allowing it to falter. She sighs and pulls her leg between them so that she's almost straddling the branch. Her hands grip the limb to support her. "I'm okay, Petes. Really. Just... I dunno. I don't know what's wrong. I feel like... like my skin's been all stretched out and it doesn't fit right anymore. Things... things keep slidin' around."
Piotr's hand closest to Jubilee begins to lift from its resting place on his sketchbook but, denied its original intention to wrap comfortingly around her as her leg creates a barrier between them, he simply pats her gently on the knee. "A lot of things are changing," he agrees with a nod after a moment's quiet thought. "But they are changing for the better, yes? Many of them, at least. We will make it through these changes, like we have done too many others."
"Are they? Are they really? Rogue... I mean, yeah, she's out of the hospital, but... she's till down there. Takin' on personalities. Bobby almost macked on himself, he said, when he went ta visit her. Jean's got half-the world pissed at her over this telepathy thing." She doesn't mention the other member of the dating roommates foursome, but he presses hard in her thoughts as well.
"Rogue is free," Piotr corrects quietly. "She is back with people who want to help her, the people who /can/ help her. They can. The Professor will find a way." It is simple confidence that speaks there, quiet and with no room for doubt. "And Jean--" He stops and considers more carefully on this point. "Yes, it will likely be hard for her, I will not disagree with that, but... in time, perhaps people will see that what she said has more worth because she is a telepath. That she would call for this even though it will affect herself, that must count for something."
Jubilee drops her leg over the other side and leans forward to thunk her forehead against Piotr's shoulder without speaking.
"We can get through this." Piotr's words are almost a whisper as he looks down tenderly at his friend, stern features painted with concern and fondness as he watches her. "Nothing is ever easy, but perhaps nothing is ever impossible, either. We have learned strength by everything that we have faced."
"I know, Petes," drifts up. Jubilee holds the pose a moment longer, then pushes away and straightens, running her fingers into her hairline at her temple. "It's just... I don't think anyone else does."
"Then perhaps it is up to us to show them," Piotr suggests, turning his torso now as well as his head to face his companion more fully and resting his far hand on the branch behind him to keep himself steady. "Though I do not think we are quite alone. Kurt would tell you this. Perhaps even Scott. But so long as we are right, it does not matter whether they agree with us or not, and you are always right, little one."
Jubilee hunches her shoulders forward, and her face crumples into vulnerable misery. "But..." She stops, and when she tries again, she whispers. "But what if it /does/ matter? What if... What if what they're not believin' in is--is /us/?"
It is with utter solemnity that Piotr pronounces, "Your friends believe in you, Jubilee, I promise you that. If they cannot see a way that things will improve, then this is not your failing, and it does not mean that they care for you less. Sometimes there is nothing we can do to help change people's minds, but that does not mean that we cannot make things better. /I/ believe that you can."
Jubilee flashes a quick look up, then lowers her eyes again and shakes her head. "I can't do it all. I can't force someone to feel somethin' they don't."
"No one can do that," Piotr replies erroneously, though in the context it is not a terrible mistake. "But you can change the world around them. When the Professor helps Rogue to recover, it will no longer matter if she thinks it is possible or not: it will be done. As long as we hope, and we try to help, then things can get better, whether or not anyone believes that they can."
She looks up, chin waggling though she bites her tongue to cushion the chatter of teeth. "Help. Right. I can help Rogue. I can do /that/." The emphasis is slight.
Piotr gives a steady nod and a fond smile. "You can. Better than almost anyone else, perhaps. Better than me, certainly. For both of us, you help Rogue, and if you need me to help with anything else then you know where you can find me, yes?"
"Yeah, Petes. I will. Thanks," Jubilee replies quietly, squirming around to catch the tree limb under her arms and drop lightly to the ground. She gathers her skates and walks back to the house, lost in thoughts that don't actually center on her best friend.
5.3.07 - Piotr and Jubilee have a talk. It goes better than before, but maybe not quite as good as Piotr thinks.