12/20 - Scott, Jean, Nate
12/19/2007
Logfile from Jubilee.
=XS= Kitchen - Lv 1 - Xavier's School
A relic of Victorian times, this kitchen is vast, with more than one oven and several stainless steel work surfaces taking the space once claimed by coal hoppers, cooking hearths and cast-iron stoves. Walls still done in period plaster and tile, and the floor still the original fieldstone, fluorescent lights have been installed overhead to bring the lighting up to modern level. At meal times, kitchen workers scurry to and fro with pans and food and various other sundry items, under the watchful eye of the aging head cook, but once past, order is restored, with copper-bottomed pans hanging above the kitchen island, and a tray of cold snacks left out for foraging students and staff alike. Folding wood doors screen off a pantry capable of holding food for an large household's weekly meals -- or three days' worth of teenager food.
"Oh! The weather outside is frightful!" It's not really, but Jubilee's singing may qualify. Her santa hatted head peeks over the edge of the refrigerator door.
"Compared to what it has been it isn't too bad," Scott notes as he enters the kitchen, looking around slowly to note any people in the room before his attention returns completely to the Santa cap wearing girl. "How are you today, Jubilee?" Scott asks as he makes his way toward one of the storage cabinets.
Jubilee pops up and blinks. Oops. "I was... uh." Rummaging for food out of appointed times? "Putting eye goop in to cool!" Yeah, right. The door shuts with a rattle of glass and metal and she spins around to lean back against it. "Fiiiiiiiine. How are yoooooou?"
"Eye goop, huh?" Scott muses with a chuckle, looking at the girl. "So how prescribed you to use 'eye goop'?" Scott asks with a stern tone of voice, even if there is a bit of amusement in his hidden eyes. He does try to keep the smirk that so wants to show up on his lips from doing so, crossing his arms over his chest.
Jubilee rolls her eyes. "It's a girl thing." A grin flickers on and off and back on again.
"Right. A girl thing. why do I get the feeling that you're lying to me," Scott says with a roll of his own eyes, the rest of his body language with head movement and all showing the exagerated eye roll, though whether or not she can interpret that as what it is. The stern look melts somewhat as he shakes his head, "I'm fine, Jubilee. Did you miss dinner or something?"
A little of the holiday cheer fizzles and disappears in the pop of her frown. "Cause you always think I'm lyin'," she grumps, folding her arms in front of her before pushing off the refrigerator door. "Maaaaybe. Got off work an' came straight over. Ro'll show up sometime this weekend."
"Actually it's not because I always think you're lyin', but because I remember being a teenager and that sudden excuse making," Scott says with a chuckle. "How is work going?" he asks, opening the fridge to get out a bottle of water. "Well I hope," Scott says, trying to make civil conversation. Really, he is, just not that good at it without sounding like a stern jerk.
Jubilee shrugs and winds around to the island so she can leans against the edge, arms tucked under her curving upper body. "Good enough. It's payin' the bills, I guess. Sorry I missed trainin' yesterday. Had to cover a shift. But I'll make it up over the holidays."
"I suppose I can let you off this once," Scott says, actually in a good mood, if a little not of his own doing. "Probably a good thing you missed training though, I might have decided that you're the one that stuck my car in a tree somehow."
Jubilee blinks, then straightens slowly. "Your car? In a /tree/?" She sounds af if she's not certain which she finds more incredible--the tree, or the fact they dared pick /his/ car. "Duuuude. Didja take a picture?" Pleeeeease?
"Yes, I took a picture so that I could confront the culprit with it," Scott says with a shake of his head, "Wasn't hurt though, so I've no idea how it got up there unless Jean did it in her sleep, because I know she wouldn't do it when awake," Scott adds.
"Dunno. Didja get into another fight with Wolvie lately?" Jubilee teases.
"Not to my knowledge, though I don't know how he'd get my car in a tree without damaging it. Cutting it into little pieces or driving it into the lake I could see, but 30 feet up in the air in a tree, with no tracks, and no damage?" Scott says with a scoff of disbelief. Now, if Logan also convinced Jean to be in on the prank it's a possibility, but we'll not go there.
"Well, that's the only way I'd see /Jeannie/ doin' it in while awake," she says, grinning at him. "Anyone else gotta reason ta be mad at ya? I mean, beyond the normal reasons."
"Not that I know of, unless the students have gotten a lot more creative.." he pauses with a shake of his head once more, "And brave," Scott says with a chuckle. "So how are things with you and Rogue?" Scott asks
"You're taken it awful well," she notes, sidestepping the question about Rogue for the moment. "Don't tell me you're actually in a good mood? Didja get a colonoscopy and get the stick outta yer butt?" Jubilee bounces up and dances back a few stesp toward the door, knowing her last question was edging quite close to a line.
"I had ways to vent about it, and the car wasn't damaged. If it were damaged," Scott shrugs with a cold smile, "Then I'd probably be in a lot less acceptable mood," Scott says, a more politic way of saying he'd be right pissed. "If I did, it was done without my attendance. New mutant power perhaps?" Scott muses. Did he just make a joke?""
Gasp! Jubilee's eyebrows arch high and she grins as she turns around and moseys out of the kitchen. "Wonder what else gets done without your attendance, Scooter!" drifts back over her shoulder.
"Probably many things," Scott says with a shake of his head at the leaving girl.
12.19 - Scott catches Jubilee raiding the fridge!
12/20/2007
Logfile from Jubilee.
=XS= Jean's Room - Staff Wing - Lv 3
Large and airy this end of the hall room; the door from the hallway bisects one wall. To the right, an office area complete with overstuffed bookshelves and a desk with computer, docking stations for peripherals, and piles of papers both research and student. To the left, privacy screens in black lacquered wood and white rice paper enclose a sleeping area containing a bedside table and lamp, and a double futon with many pillows and an addictively comfortable duvet. The outer wall features two bay windows with cushioned window seats on either side of a small fieldstone fireplace. An oriental rug stands in front of the hearth, with a small cream coloured sofa perfectly placed for a quiet evening in. There are two additional rugs in the sleeping and office areas, otherwise the parquet floor is bare. Walls hung with gray-blue wallpaper and with acccents in black and white, the simple empty space allows for both visual and mental tranquility, aided and abetted by candles scattered about on black worked-metal stands. A door on the left wall leads to a fairly nice bathroom, and a matching one on the right opens into a large walk-in closet.
Be wary, ye who stalk the upper hallways of Xavier's School: 'Tis the season for the press-ganging of Christmas elves into helping wrap presents. Dr. Grey is ruthless in her co-opting of certain alumni come home for the holidays: she's sent out Nate. Thus, wherever Jubilee has gotten to, she is graced by a small heat-seeking missile that appears from no-where to cling on to her legs and shout a happy "Jublee! Come help Mum and me with PRESENTS!"
That's the lovely thing about having time off. Having time off! Thus she really has nothing more gotten into than a nerf dart gun that she's popping unsuspecting wandersby with. "Hey, squirt! If I come help, does it mean I get to see /mine/?" She presses the brightly colored foam dart tip against his forehead to tip his head back and start the process of detangling enough to lean over and scoop him up. "Ooof. You're /huge/. What've you been /eatin'/? Bricks?" She shuffle thumps a few steps down the hall.
"Broccolis!" Nate chirps back, flinging his arms around Jubilee's neck and giving her a loud-smacking kiss on the cheek once he's been scooped up, one hand scrubbing at his forehead in passing. "Mum says if I eats them all up, I'll be bigger'n Daddy and Uncle Logan, and -maybe- even Py-ter," he shares, squirming to get comfortable as he prattles on about things of import to four year olds. From down the hallway, an excited barking says that Pancake is not far behind. "Oh! Mum's up in her room." he conveys.
Jubilee spins around fast, but only once-- just enough to hit the elevator button with her elbow. No way is she attempting the stairs with sack-o-bricks on her hip. "Big as Peter? Wow. Then all you'd have to do to squish me is sit on me." The door bings open and she steps inside followed quickly with a scrabble of claws on metal guard. She looks down at the dog. Dog. "You know your numbers? Prove it. Push the number '3'."
ROWRF! Dog indeed, if a smallish one. There is a cheerful jingle of rabies tags and the flapping sound of batlike ears being shaken, and the Corgi cross settles himself beside Jubilee and his master with a cheerful doggie grin. "I know -lots- of numbers, Jublee," says Nate with an eyeroll. "I'm not -three-." But, all the same, there's a count of "One... twoooo... three!" and the button is pushed. "Mama's got tinfoil hats."
"She baking brains with 'em?" The grin on her face could be a rival for the dog's. The trip up isn't long and once they all spill out intot he hallway, Jubilee gratefully dislodges Nate from her arms and commands him forward with a "Go make sure the coast is clear!" Pancake takes off after him, leaving her to amble at a little slower pace. Still, they've barely opened the door by the time she arrives. "Where's the food? If I'm helping wrap, I get fed!" she yells in cheerful obnoxiousness.
"Eeeew!" echoes happily form somewhere down the hallway ahead, as boy and dog speed away, vanishing into Jean's room at the end of the hall, where a feline hiss followed by a canine yelp suggests that Pancake, alas, has yet to learn his place when Curie is in residence. The large room seems especially airy today, curtains drawn back to let the pure white light of winter fall through and sparkle on drifts of shiny wrapping paper, boxes and bows. "You don't want my cooking," Jean greets. "But, oh elf of packaging, I'll buy you lunch at Harry's if you help."
"It's a deal. Though we can skip the spit an' shake, if it's ok with you." Jubilee shuts the door behind her and drifts toward the piles, eyes bright with avarice and good humor. The dart gun is fired at Curie.
Curie is, officially, Too Old For This Shit. Thus, there is no gratifying poof of cat hair and a sudden vanishing. The dart goes paff against her coat. Curie favours Jubilee with a Look. And then turns curlicue on her belly to grab the dart between her paws and start biting it with evident relish at the texture. "Fine by me," Jean seals the bargain with a laugh, and motions Jubilee to a series of stockings, and a series of assorted Things to stuff into them. "We parcelled out the kids' stockings in groups this year, there's so many of them. I've got ten."
Jubilee throws herself into the middle of the pile and grabs a stocking in one hand and a handful of stuffers in the other. "Any particular method to the madness? An' will everyone be getting a foil hat this year?" Explanation is begged in that dry tone. Nate zooms past to claim the now abandoned dart gun.
"Mmmhmm," Jean confirms, tossing one of the plastic-wrapped foil packets over to Jubilee in a frisbee style toss. Genuine Anti-Telepath Hat, yes indeed. "I saw them in a store when I led the last mall excursion, and thought they were a great idea. Customizable, too, unlike that helmet of Magneto's."
Jubilee has to drop the stocking to make the catch, but she does so one handed. The plastic crinkles under her fingers as she turns it around to read the packaging. "Man. Where was /this/ when I was in your classes?"
"Waiting for someone to dare and merchandise it, clearly," Jean replies, reaching over to catch Nate on the fly as he zooms past, now with Nerf gun, and place a pre-assembled hat on his head and a kiss on his brow. "There," she pronounces. "Now you're a spaceman." Giggles ensue, and off he scampers again. "So, home for the holidays?" she wonders, as fingers now freed turn themselves to wrapping up a small box set of DVDs.
"Mhm. I got seven whole days off!" She stretches her legs out and wriggles her toes, bundled up warmly in a pair of brightly fuzzy socks. The stocking is picked up again, but this time the selection of stuffers is more discriminate and methodical.
Off to the side, curled on her chair, there is Curie, and there are now the messy remains of a Nerf dart scattered across her and the seat. Jean notices this belatedly, sighs, and informs her pet that "You'd better not have swallowed any," as she rises to go get rid of the evidence. Passing back, she pauses to muss Jubilee's hair and grin down at her. Because she can. "It'll be good to have you around again. Maybe you can get to the bottom of who stuck Scott's car up a tree," she suggests.
"Oh, I already know who did that," Jubilee says airly, crinkling her nose and sticking her tongue out at the muss.
"Oh?" Jean wonders, settling down again to her wrapping and busying herself with measuring out and cutting neat sections of tape in readiness. "Do share. It was a beautiful prank, all things considered, especially since he was able to get it down again."
"It's your ghost!" Duh. "The one that's been hangin' around doin' weird stuff. Either that or you got pissed at Scott cause he an' Wolvie had another spat." Her toes brush at a package, pushing it into Jean's little realm of orderly.
"He and Logan have actually been on pretty good behavior lately," Jean updates, pausing in her wrapping as a corgi-cross scampers over to wriggle his way onto her lap and roll belly-up to wave his paws entreatingly. "I think it might have something to do with him getting a girlfriend." Very calmly delivered, this bit of news. Jean looks proud of herself as she turns to scratching Pancake's belly.
Jubilee rolls her eyes. "Great. /That/ explains the obnoxious good mood he was in last night. Who's he dating /now/? Satan? Oh, wait. He's already dated /her/."
"Actually," says Jean musingly. "She seems really.... nice." Damned with faint praise, perhaps? Jean looks suddenly intent on her wrapping, having relocated the dog to the floor beside her. Fold and fold and fold and tape, and she offers up that "Her name's Fiona. She's 24 years old and she's going to teach him to ballroom dance."
"Nice? Nice isn't his style. No offense, Jeannie." A stocking is stuffed and tossed out in front of her.
"Hey, I can be nice!" Jean protests, but with a laugh underlying it. Setting aside the wrapped DVDs, she reaches next for a name tag, and then casts about for "Pen... Jubilee, have you seen a pen lying around here anywhere?" Over on her chair, with a Nate momentarily quiescent beside her, Curie rolls over smugly in her sleep.
Jubilee picks a candycane one out of her stack of stuffers and tosses it at her. "Still. Nice? I mean put nice and Scooter together an' you've got a yawnfest on overdrive."
Jean has her hands full with moving a few boxes and bags, and thus the candycane is forced to stop in midair and wait patiently for her pleasure. "Maybe that's what he's looking for," she suggests.
"Boring," Jubilee singsongs hypocritically.
"Well... as long as he's happy, I guess," Jean sums up, before a "Hah!" of triumph uncovers the missing pen, and she returns to her present-identifying. "Speaking of happy, is Rogue going to be turning up too, or is she stuck working?"
"She's gotta work nights through Friday, but I think she'll be here this weekend," says with a little frown. "She promised me she'd be here for Christmas, at least."
"If not," says Jean. "We kidnap her." But for all the deadpan humour of that announcement, her next question is a little more soft and a little more serious, and not only because Nate appears to have run down into a near-nap. "How are things, with you two?"
Jubilee glances sideways at Jean and hitches her shoulder up into a half-shrug. "Pretty good. Quiet. Not that I'm complainin', but... Dunno. She's gone a lot. Working. So'm I, I guess." She laughs a little and stretches. "Bein' grownup sucks."
"Yeah," Jean agrees, with a matching laugh. "Sometimes it really does. But things are going OK, beside schedules?" she wonders. "I swear, with you in the city and me stuck here, I feel like I know more about what Ororo's up to in Africa."
"I guess so. Just..." Jubilee flaps a hand. "Life." She pushes away another stocking. "How's everyone taking things here? I mean, with like everything?"
"With the church thing, it's probably a bit too soon to say, really," Jean admits, settling on a box that seems to have appeared courtesy of Think Geek for her next wrapping contestant. "Autumn's parents are enrolling her here for the winter semester. Amp..." Jean trails off, and then settles on "Again, with the bit too soon to say. -I'm- mostly trying to get used to the fact that I'm not the one people come to first, any more. The school's gotten too big, I guess."
Jubilee nods thoughtfully and rolls over to snatch up the last of the stockings. "It's hard ta know who ta trust. 'specially if they're only here for a year or two. Too many people comin' an' goin'."
"Professor Xorn, apparently," says Jean, but with no particular tone associated with it. She is not quite as good as the professor in question at tonelessness, but then, she still has a skull. It's a trade-off sort of thing. "I'm just glad it's over," she concludes, and rustles through her wrapping paper.
Jubilee feels a little sting at having played a part in circumventing Jean as well. "You should totally get him some of those magnetic expressions for Christmas." Hello, tangent.
-That- image serves well to snap Jean out of her mild funk. Something escapes that might, potentially, be classed as a giggle. "Oh lord. 'My name is Xorn. Today I am... Happy.'"
Jubilee nods solemnly. "He can stick them to his mask." Totally.
"Magnetic poetry," Jean decides. "Haiku."
"Just don't get the erotica ones."
"Ow. I -needed- those neurons, thanks."
Jubilee beams happily.
"Brat," Jean awards, with fond familiarity in the epithet. "Finish up that last stocking, and let's go get lunch." From beside the couch comes a rustling. "Lunch?" queries Nate. "I can come too?"
"All done!" Jubilee jumps up and nearly slips when her fuzzy socks don't give her /quite/ enough traction. She catches herself and bounces through the wrapping paper pile to hit the door. "Just gotta get my shoes an' coat. Meet ya downstairs in five!"
"I'm going with Jublee!" announces Nate, and boy and dog pelt out after her. Someone's got a -friend-. "Just don't fall on the stairs and die," Jean cautions. And then takes a moment to stand and survey the sudden silence of the suddenly much more empty room.
Jean shanghai's Jubilee into wrapping presents.