Same Quark, just a little less angst.
ICly open to friends only.
I finally managed to get a hold of Jean again for a stress-relieving chat, over in the stables. I'm not exactly an animal lover, but Jean's right--grooming horses can be very therapeutic.
We talked about many things in general, ranging from why I've felt so stressed lately to my mother. That's the best news I've heard, lately--Jean was able to look into the court order and have it appealed, so now Dr. Bradford can't force my mother to stay in the hospital. I'm allowed to visit her, too! Problem is, I have to wait another day or two until my homework and extra studying is all taken care of before I can visit her. I'm totally psyched, though...Jean even thinks that it might be possible to get her back to the school for the holidays, and have some of her mutant colleagues or acquantainces try to heal her! Maybe the Phoenix Complex isn't so much of a jinx as it is a strange blessing.
That's all I want for Christmas, really: my mother, healthy and out of that hospital. The sooner she gets healed, the sooner she can get back to work--that is, if we can keep the media out of this. If the general public finds out that a mutant teenager gave his mother a terminal case of leukemia, it could be bad for mutants around the state, possibly even the nation--it'll prove that mutants are dangerous to everyone, even the ones they love and care about.
I can't let that happen. That's what's worrying me the most, now...getting my mother out of Bradford's grasp won't force him to silence his tongue, even if mutants are the ones to cure her of her cancer.
I'm afraid for the future...but, it's Saturday. Might as well let the future happen on its own, without worrying about it. Here's to hoping.
<> The Stables
Smelling of time and tradition in the mingled warm scent of horses, the sweet scent of hay, a richness of leather and saddle soap, and the everpresent, if faint, undertone of equine by-products, the stables are a charming anachronism of old-country charm amongst a more modern age. Inside the airy whitewashed building, a T-shaped floor plan provides lodging for approximately sixteen horses in open box stalls with rubber mat flooring; iron grilles atop wooden board dividers keep neighbours' teeth to themselves while allowing socializing. Mares and geldings call the central aisleway their home, while the shorter one forming the base of the 'T' contains more heavily reinforced stalls for a couple of stallions, in addition to the tack room, feed room, and lounge that take up the majority of that wing. The lounge is a homey and comfortable place, decorated with old ribbons and plaques from horse shows and furnished with braided rugs, a small fridge that does double-duty for holding horse medication as well as snacks, and several large couches deemed too old and disreputable to stay in the house. Back out in the main space, individual halters and lead shanks are hung on neat hooks on the outside of each stall beside a brass name plate identifying their owner, and three large sliding doors lead out to paddocks, a riding ring, and trails through the woods.
[Exits : [T]he [W]oods ]
[Players : Jean ]
As much of the school knows or can find out, in addition to saving lives, educating young minds, training in black leather, debating with bigots and actually having time to manage both a boyfriend and a young son, Jean Grey also sneaks out to the barns for at least an hour a day, as often as she can. And that's what she's gone and done now. An aging bay Anglo-Arab is clipped in cross-ties, in fine shape bar the greying hair around her eyes, and currently dozing blissfully as a Dr. Grey with her coat off and her sleeves rolled up grooms awya industriously, humming to herself and to the mare.
Quark quietly enters the stables with a small frown upon his face. Lately, he hasn't been in much a mood for smiling. It is doubtful that he loves animals as much as Dr. Grey, but he does want a quiet place to relax and, hopefully, he'll run into someone he can chat with. Like Jean herself, as he's lately noticed her comings and goings to the stables. While he doesn't make much noise, it's pretty obvious that such a strong telepath as herself would easily pick up on his distressed thoughts long before seeing his face or hearing his steps. He pulls his coat a little less tightly around himself, as the barn seems to be a nice refuge from the crisp chill of winter. Aimlessly walking around, he stops with a small smile when he spots Jean. "Konbanwa, Jean." Eyeing the horse, his smile broadens slightly and he adds, "Need a hand? I'm not exactly a horse fanatic, but I believe grooming's supposed to be easier with two people helping."
"Salve, Chris," greets Jean, waving a currycomb from over the back of her horse. "I'm the Latin prof, not the Japanese one, even if Professor Logan talks in his sleep sometimes." Aaaaand that might be a little too much information. But Jean, unlike half the student body, seems to be in quite good spirits at the moment. "Toss your jacket in the tack room, it's comfortable in here with all the four-legged heaters in their stalls. And grab a brush, sure. Ever groomed before?" she wonders, tossing over another rubber currycomb. Horses are an excellent source of therapy.
Quark smiles at that, even if he doesn't know what 'salve' means. He isn't exactly the Latin geek, even if the little Spanish he knows might be derived from a changed version of Latin. Or so his old teacher told him, back at his old high school when he was taking it. Complying with Jean's suggestion, he sets the coat away and smirks as he catches the brush. Blinking and looking back and forth between Jean and the horse, he replies, "Umm...no, can't say I have. But it just requires moving my hand a bit, right? Can't be that hard," he grins weakly. Slowly walking up to her and her horse, from the side so as not to startle it, he asks, "What do you want me to do?"
Jean isn't exactly a Japanese geek. Or... at all. So they're even. "Just move in circles with the grain of the coat," she instructs. "Stick to fleshy areas of the body, and don't be afraid to press hard. Currying loosens dirt and sweat, but it also acts like a massage." And from the blissful expression on the horse's long face, she isn't objecting at all. "And how are you doing, Chris?" she wonders, resuming humming to the horse as she works, and keeping her tone easy and conversational.
Quark nods, smiling slightly but not entirely amused. Maybe he -could- use the therapy...He begins to rub the brush in rhythm, going in sircles around the larger, 'fleshy' areas of the horse's body. His rhythm is thrown off a bit at the question, despite Jean's cheerful tone. He pauses with an audible sigh, resuming his brushing when he realizes he's not rubbing it properly. Go figure...he pats the horse gently, as if to apologize for his startle. "I'm...stressed out, Jean. I'm frustrated, and I'm full of angst. What bother's me most is that I don't even know why. If my idea for what's causing it is right, then I don't have any control over it anyway." He sighs, rubbing a little harder to vent some frustration--even if the horse seems to respond happily to the increased force. Again, go figure...His tone mordant and caustic, he says, "None of my 'friends' from my old school want to talk to me now that I've moved so far away, my mother's under Dr. Bradford's control in that freaking hospital, with terminal leukemia nonetheless. My friends keep getting hurt because humans are hypocritical jerks, I haven't learned how to defend myself, and to top it off, I have no family to visit for the holidays!" He curses under his breath and stops brushing the horse, no doubt to its relief--he was probably brushing much harder than it would like. A few tears of frustration and anger in his eyes, he turns away from Jean and sighs, just standing there in silence for a few moments. Wow...probably not the reaction Jean was expecting for from such a simple question.
Jean might not have been expecting that exact answer, but the telepath was clearly expecting something along those lines. The private setting, the soothing presence of the animals, the laid-back task of grooming. All very therapeutic. "Stress is something that's a product of the modern world, unfortunately," she replies, long pauses between her sentences as she thinks. "And people like us unfortunately are subjected to even higher levels than normal. I can offer you ways to deal with it," she does allow, switching the curry comb for another brush and beginning to sweep away the loosened dust. "But unfortunately I can't just get rid of it. And -we're- humans, Crhis. Don't forget that. And anyways, didn't you read the note I sent you? Adam and I had a little talk. His court order's been suspended, pending further investigation. You can go visit your mother, and I've put in a call to a friend of mine who's another oncology specialist while I try and get together a few people I know with healing abilities."
Quark stands there and nods, his back still to Jean as he tries to deal with his stress. She's right, and he knows it...he just wishes it wasn't so hard to do. Suddenly he whirls around and gapes slightly; apparently he didn't get that memo. Trying to form words, he finally walks over to Jean and gives her a warm, full hug. Not the kind a lover would get, of course; Logan would most likely slice his arms off if he got caught 'making a move' on Jean. No, this is just a sincere expression of his complete gratitude. Finally, he quietly adds, "Thank you...you don't know what this means to me. I really wouldn't have been able to do this without your help." Blinking, he lets go and steps back a bit, slightly embarassed and uncomfortable. Walking back to the horse, he picks up the forgotten brush and continues to brush it again, eyes focused on the horse's back. "Sorry...I just hadn't heard that yet. It's...probably the best news I've heard in a while."
Jean is apparently not unaccustomed to hugs, because what she does is hug back, giving a pat on the back as she does so, and favouring Quark with a reassuring smile. "I do know, Chris. Everyone needs family, no matter what form it takes. And your mother's a really great woman, I enjoyed talking with her. She's very proud of you." she replies, before letting Quark escape, and just returning companionably to her grooming. "And don't apologize. Human beings are tactile creatures, and sometimes hugs work better than words. Now, Bradford is temporarily thwarted, and I'd like to have your mom healed before the courts finish with the case, so while she might not be home for Christmas, she'll definitely be back in time for spring break. And if you'd like, and she's willing, I could see about transferring her here for the holidays. I'm certainly quite capable of managing her medical needs."
Quark nods, smiling happily. My, he changes moods quickly...or perhaps his mother's imprisonment in the hospital was his main cause of worry for the last few days? "I believe it. You're the doctor, after all," he grins weakly. And that is -great- news, really. Awesome, to say the very least." Looking back up to her, he bites his lower lip in thought and asks, "Did I already tell you about my father?" He hopes so...he doesn't really like telling that particular story, and as it's not exactly public knowledge, already having told her would definitely make this next bit of the conversation easier."
"Yes, you did," confirms Jean softly, still brushing away, but now watching Quark instead of the horse. April seems to not mind this too much, so long as her pampering continues. "Was there anything you wanted to talk about, regarding that?" she asks.
Quark shrugs, trying to swallow the lump in his throat as he starts to think more about his father. He's had years to deal with that, but apparently it still affects him...grief works like that, unfortunately. "Well...there's nothing I really can do. He's been dead for over 10 years, now. I was just trying to point out that this is the first year my mother's been gone for the holidays, so it's just...pretty hard. We've been really close since that time when I was five, so it really bites that I had to be the one to give her the leukemia." Another sigh...hmm. Guess he still has some more angst hidden. Idly, he asks her medical opinion, "Do you think I need a psychiatrist? I don't think the school has an official one." Unless Jean Grey is a shrink herself, that is...
"I think everyone could use a psychiatrist, Chris," replies Jean, dropping her eyes to her work again as she switches brushes and now goes to work with grooming the bony and sensitive bits of the mare, taking a moment to chuckle as she tries to groom herself by rubbing her forehead against the offered brush. The woman is soon thoughtful again, though. "Yeah. Show me a person who says they couldn't benefit from having someone to talk things over with, and I'll show you someone lying through their teeth. That's basically all a psychiatrist will do for you, Chris. There's no quick fix, they'll just help you guide yourself through some of the tangles your mind has made. But if you'd like to try one, I know a couple."
Once again, the ingenious Jean Grey manages to elicit a grin out of the troubled Chris Parker; he's come to rely on her clever wit for support. Shrugging, he grabs the new brush type as well and mimics Jean's movements on the horse grooming, replying with a frustrated I-don't-know-what-I'm-supposed-to-do sigh, "I just feel that I have a lot of penned-up angst, and if I don't take care of it soon, I'm afraid it's going to eat at my emotions from the inside out." Looking Jean in the eyes, he adds dryly, "That sounds like something I'd define as worthy of a psychiatrist. Still, I agree. Talking is good...but I feel like I need to -do- something about it, not just sit back here at the mansion and let my life's troubles rule me." He brushes silently for a few moments before adding, "That's one of the reasons I really want Professor Logan to teach me karate. Sometimes I feel like I just need to hit something, even if it is the air."
Jean doesn't argue that point, simply favouring Quark with a quick grin in return before venturing that "I'm not going to argue with that... one of the most frustrating situations to be in is when you know exactly what's wrong, but for some reason, it's just not fixable. The punching bags down in the gym have been knocked around a few times on my account." the gentle-looking Jean offers dryly. "As have dead trees in the woods, a few rocks, and a ton or two of lake water among other things. But I'd agree that martial arts might help, but in a way you might not expect." Finishing with the third brush, she begins picking out the horse's hooves, chatting over her shoulder as she crouches. "I find it very easy to slip into a meditative state when I'm practicing my katas, and it's a lot easier to find serenity and patience. All things -do- resolve themselves in time, but sometimes the actions best taken to resolve them are like the movements that you'll learn in martial arts. Slow, steady, precise... may not look like you're doing much, but deceptively strong, and a heck of a workout."
Quark smiles as Jean describes her reasons for taking karate, as well as tips for relieving stress. Although he can't exactly attack things telekinetically...Still, he understands what she's talking about. At the description of how stress-relieving her forms can be, he smiles happily and closes his eyes, trying to imagine losing all that stress as she talks. Quietly, he mutters with a grin, "Anyone tell you that you can make people go into a meditative stance by simply talking?" A pause, and then he opens his eyes with a grin and adds with a chuckle, "Besides your students in class who don't like science and try to fall asleep, that is." Shrugging, he says, "That sounds really great, actually. Very great." Tilting his head in thought, he says out of curiosity, "I didn't realize you knew karate, too. I thought you did most of your fighting with your mind." Pondering, he asks after another short pause, "Since I seem to run into you much more often than Professor Logan, would -you- be willing to teach me some karate? Nothing really fancy, I mean...just some katas that might help me relieve some stress?"
"Thanks, you're too kind," is Jean's snort of amusement in return for the comment about meditation and talking. She finishes with a few deft combings of April's mane, and then leads the mare back to her stall again, offering over her shoulder that "Well, I don't actually know karate. I just know a sort of blend of different martial arts techniques that Logan's taught me. I may be a ranged fighter as far as mutant abilities go, but I prefer to keep the rest of me in shape too. Logan offers martial arts as an extracurricular. Just pop your name on the sign up sheet after the holidays... I could try teaching you, but I'm afraid you'd find me pretty frustratingly ideosyncratic."
Quark shrugs, not entirely disappointed, but not exactly given up on the idea, either. "I understand...but still, if for some reason Logan's not up to it later or earlier, I don't mind learning a unique style. As you may already know, I tend to learn things pretty fast." He grins, but he still tries not to sound conceited; it's simply a fact. "Either way, I don't mind. I'm just -really- interested in learning karate. I've been having this feeling lately with things related to Japan...kind of like my thing with phoenixes I was telling you about. The Phoenix Complex, as I'm beginning to call it," he grins. Shrugging, he says, "I don't know why, but I feel a similar bond to Asian culture, one I can't explain. Guess I better start doing research into Japanese myths next," he jokes. Or maybe it isn't a joke...? Time will tell. Setting the brush aside, he pats the horse and goes to grab his coat. As he puts it on, he waves to Jean with a smile and says, "Thanks for the talk Jean, it was great. I needed it." Looking towards the barn exit and what he hopes is falling snow, he starts to walk off--but not before looking over his shoulder and saying, "Merry early Christmas! See you around." After that, he walks out, considerably happier than he had been before arriving...
OOC: Thanks to Jean for a great RP scene! I wish I could've stayed longer, but we both had things going on. It was definitely fun, and hopefully I can develop a mini TP idea about this whole media thing...we'll see. If anyone has any ideas of how to get some interesting RP out of this whole 'media stink', give me a call. Hope you're all having a great weekend!
I finally managed to get a hold of Jean again for a stress-relieving chat, over in the stables. I'm not exactly an animal lover, but Jean's right--grooming horses can be very therapeutic.
We talked about many things in general, ranging from why I've felt so stressed lately to my mother. That's the best news I've heard, lately--Jean was able to look into the court order and have it appealed, so now Dr. Bradford can't force my mother to stay in the hospital. I'm allowed to visit her, too! Problem is, I have to wait another day or two until my homework and extra studying is all taken care of before I can visit her. I'm totally psyched, though...Jean even thinks that it might be possible to get her back to the school for the holidays, and have some of her mutant colleagues or acquantainces try to heal her! Maybe the Phoenix Complex isn't so much of a jinx as it is a strange blessing.
That's all I want for Christmas, really: my mother, healthy and out of that hospital. The sooner she gets healed, the sooner she can get back to work--that is, if we can keep the media out of this. If the general public finds out that a mutant teenager gave his mother a terminal case of leukemia, it could be bad for mutants around the state, possibly even the nation--it'll prove that mutants are dangerous to everyone, even the ones they love and care about.
I can't let that happen. That's what's worrying me the most, now...getting my mother out of Bradford's grasp won't force him to silence his tongue, even if mutants are the ones to cure her of her cancer.
I'm afraid for the future...but, it's Saturday. Might as well let the future happen on its own, without worrying about it. Here's to hoping.
<> The Stables
Smelling of time and tradition in the mingled warm scent of horses, the sweet scent of hay, a richness of leather and saddle soap, and the everpresent, if faint, undertone of equine by-products, the stables are a charming anachronism of old-country charm amongst a more modern age. Inside the airy whitewashed building, a T-shaped floor plan provides lodging for approximately sixteen horses in open box stalls with rubber mat flooring; iron grilles atop wooden board dividers keep neighbours' teeth to themselves while allowing socializing. Mares and geldings call the central aisleway their home, while the shorter one forming the base of the 'T' contains more heavily reinforced stalls for a couple of stallions, in addition to the tack room, feed room, and lounge that take up the majority of that wing. The lounge is a homey and comfortable place, decorated with old ribbons and plaques from horse shows and furnished with braided rugs, a small fridge that does double-duty for holding horse medication as well as snacks, and several large couches deemed too old and disreputable to stay in the house. Back out in the main space, individual halters and lead shanks are hung on neat hooks on the outside of each stall beside a brass name plate identifying their owner, and three large sliding doors lead out to paddocks, a riding ring, and trails through the woods.
[Exits : [T]he [W]oods ]
[Players : Jean ]
As much of the school knows or can find out, in addition to saving lives, educating young minds, training in black leather, debating with bigots and actually having time to manage both a boyfriend and a young son, Jean Grey also sneaks out to the barns for at least an hour a day, as often as she can. And that's what she's gone and done now. An aging bay Anglo-Arab is clipped in cross-ties, in fine shape bar the greying hair around her eyes, and currently dozing blissfully as a Dr. Grey with her coat off and her sleeves rolled up grooms awya industriously, humming to herself and to the mare.
Quark quietly enters the stables with a small frown upon his face. Lately, he hasn't been in much a mood for smiling. It is doubtful that he loves animals as much as Dr. Grey, but he does want a quiet place to relax and, hopefully, he'll run into someone he can chat with. Like Jean herself, as he's lately noticed her comings and goings to the stables. While he doesn't make much noise, it's pretty obvious that such a strong telepath as herself would easily pick up on his distressed thoughts long before seeing his face or hearing his steps. He pulls his coat a little less tightly around himself, as the barn seems to be a nice refuge from the crisp chill of winter. Aimlessly walking around, he stops with a small smile when he spots Jean. "Konbanwa, Jean." Eyeing the horse, his smile broadens slightly and he adds, "Need a hand? I'm not exactly a horse fanatic, but I believe grooming's supposed to be easier with two people helping."
"Salve, Chris," greets Jean, waving a currycomb from over the back of her horse. "I'm the Latin prof, not the Japanese one, even if Professor Logan talks in his sleep sometimes." Aaaaand that might be a little too much information. But Jean, unlike half the student body, seems to be in quite good spirits at the moment. "Toss your jacket in the tack room, it's comfortable in here with all the four-legged heaters in their stalls. And grab a brush, sure. Ever groomed before?" she wonders, tossing over another rubber currycomb. Horses are an excellent source of therapy.
Quark smiles at that, even if he doesn't know what 'salve' means. He isn't exactly the Latin geek, even if the little Spanish he knows might be derived from a changed version of Latin. Or so his old teacher told him, back at his old high school when he was taking it. Complying with Jean's suggestion, he sets the coat away and smirks as he catches the brush. Blinking and looking back and forth between Jean and the horse, he replies, "Umm...no, can't say I have. But it just requires moving my hand a bit, right? Can't be that hard," he grins weakly. Slowly walking up to her and her horse, from the side so as not to startle it, he asks, "What do you want me to do?"
Jean isn't exactly a Japanese geek. Or... at all. So they're even. "Just move in circles with the grain of the coat," she instructs. "Stick to fleshy areas of the body, and don't be afraid to press hard. Currying loosens dirt and sweat, but it also acts like a massage." And from the blissful expression on the horse's long face, she isn't objecting at all. "And how are you doing, Chris?" she wonders, resuming humming to the horse as she works, and keeping her tone easy and conversational.
Quark nods, smiling slightly but not entirely amused. Maybe he -could- use the therapy...He begins to rub the brush in rhythm, going in sircles around the larger, 'fleshy' areas of the horse's body. His rhythm is thrown off a bit at the question, despite Jean's cheerful tone. He pauses with an audible sigh, resuming his brushing when he realizes he's not rubbing it properly. Go figure...he pats the horse gently, as if to apologize for his startle. "I'm...stressed out, Jean. I'm frustrated, and I'm full of angst. What bother's me most is that I don't even know why. If my idea for what's causing it is right, then I don't have any control over it anyway." He sighs, rubbing a little harder to vent some frustration--even if the horse seems to respond happily to the increased force. Again, go figure...His tone mordant and caustic, he says, "None of my 'friends' from my old school want to talk to me now that I've moved so far away, my mother's under Dr. Bradford's control in that freaking hospital, with terminal leukemia nonetheless. My friends keep getting hurt because humans are hypocritical jerks, I haven't learned how to defend myself, and to top it off, I have no family to visit for the holidays!" He curses under his breath and stops brushing the horse, no doubt to its relief--he was probably brushing much harder than it would like. A few tears of frustration and anger in his eyes, he turns away from Jean and sighs, just standing there in silence for a few moments. Wow...probably not the reaction Jean was expecting for from such a simple question.
Jean might not have been expecting that exact answer, but the telepath was clearly expecting something along those lines. The private setting, the soothing presence of the animals, the laid-back task of grooming. All very therapeutic. "Stress is something that's a product of the modern world, unfortunately," she replies, long pauses between her sentences as she thinks. "And people like us unfortunately are subjected to even higher levels than normal. I can offer you ways to deal with it," she does allow, switching the curry comb for another brush and beginning to sweep away the loosened dust. "But unfortunately I can't just get rid of it. And -we're- humans, Crhis. Don't forget that. And anyways, didn't you read the note I sent you? Adam and I had a little talk. His court order's been suspended, pending further investigation. You can go visit your mother, and I've put in a call to a friend of mine who's another oncology specialist while I try and get together a few people I know with healing abilities."
Quark stands there and nods, his back still to Jean as he tries to deal with his stress. She's right, and he knows it...he just wishes it wasn't so hard to do. Suddenly he whirls around and gapes slightly; apparently he didn't get that memo. Trying to form words, he finally walks over to Jean and gives her a warm, full hug. Not the kind a lover would get, of course; Logan would most likely slice his arms off if he got caught 'making a move' on Jean. No, this is just a sincere expression of his complete gratitude. Finally, he quietly adds, "Thank you...you don't know what this means to me. I really wouldn't have been able to do this without your help." Blinking, he lets go and steps back a bit, slightly embarassed and uncomfortable. Walking back to the horse, he picks up the forgotten brush and continues to brush it again, eyes focused on the horse's back. "Sorry...I just hadn't heard that yet. It's...probably the best news I've heard in a while."
Jean is apparently not unaccustomed to hugs, because what she does is hug back, giving a pat on the back as she does so, and favouring Quark with a reassuring smile. "I do know, Chris. Everyone needs family, no matter what form it takes. And your mother's a really great woman, I enjoyed talking with her. She's very proud of you." she replies, before letting Quark escape, and just returning companionably to her grooming. "And don't apologize. Human beings are tactile creatures, and sometimes hugs work better than words. Now, Bradford is temporarily thwarted, and I'd like to have your mom healed before the courts finish with the case, so while she might not be home for Christmas, she'll definitely be back in time for spring break. And if you'd like, and she's willing, I could see about transferring her here for the holidays. I'm certainly quite capable of managing her medical needs."
Quark nods, smiling happily. My, he changes moods quickly...or perhaps his mother's imprisonment in the hospital was his main cause of worry for the last few days? "I believe it. You're the doctor, after all," he grins weakly. And that is -great- news, really. Awesome, to say the very least." Looking back up to her, he bites his lower lip in thought and asks, "Did I already tell you about my father?" He hopes so...he doesn't really like telling that particular story, and as it's not exactly public knowledge, already having told her would definitely make this next bit of the conversation easier."
"Yes, you did," confirms Jean softly, still brushing away, but now watching Quark instead of the horse. April seems to not mind this too much, so long as her pampering continues. "Was there anything you wanted to talk about, regarding that?" she asks.
Quark shrugs, trying to swallow the lump in his throat as he starts to think more about his father. He's had years to deal with that, but apparently it still affects him...grief works like that, unfortunately. "Well...there's nothing I really can do. He's been dead for over 10 years, now. I was just trying to point out that this is the first year my mother's been gone for the holidays, so it's just...pretty hard. We've been really close since that time when I was five, so it really bites that I had to be the one to give her the leukemia." Another sigh...hmm. Guess he still has some more angst hidden. Idly, he asks her medical opinion, "Do you think I need a psychiatrist? I don't think the school has an official one." Unless Jean Grey is a shrink herself, that is...
"I think everyone could use a psychiatrist, Chris," replies Jean, dropping her eyes to her work again as she switches brushes and now goes to work with grooming the bony and sensitive bits of the mare, taking a moment to chuckle as she tries to groom herself by rubbing her forehead against the offered brush. The woman is soon thoughtful again, though. "Yeah. Show me a person who says they couldn't benefit from having someone to talk things over with, and I'll show you someone lying through their teeth. That's basically all a psychiatrist will do for you, Chris. There's no quick fix, they'll just help you guide yourself through some of the tangles your mind has made. But if you'd like to try one, I know a couple."
Once again, the ingenious Jean Grey manages to elicit a grin out of the troubled Chris Parker; he's come to rely on her clever wit for support. Shrugging, he grabs the new brush type as well and mimics Jean's movements on the horse grooming, replying with a frustrated I-don't-know-what-I'm-supposed-to-do sigh, "I just feel that I have a lot of penned-up angst, and if I don't take care of it soon, I'm afraid it's going to eat at my emotions from the inside out." Looking Jean in the eyes, he adds dryly, "That sounds like something I'd define as worthy of a psychiatrist. Still, I agree. Talking is good...but I feel like I need to -do- something about it, not just sit back here at the mansion and let my life's troubles rule me." He brushes silently for a few moments before adding, "That's one of the reasons I really want Professor Logan to teach me karate. Sometimes I feel like I just need to hit something, even if it is the air."
Jean doesn't argue that point, simply favouring Quark with a quick grin in return before venturing that "I'm not going to argue with that... one of the most frustrating situations to be in is when you know exactly what's wrong, but for some reason, it's just not fixable. The punching bags down in the gym have been knocked around a few times on my account." the gentle-looking Jean offers dryly. "As have dead trees in the woods, a few rocks, and a ton or two of lake water among other things. But I'd agree that martial arts might help, but in a way you might not expect." Finishing with the third brush, she begins picking out the horse's hooves, chatting over her shoulder as she crouches. "I find it very easy to slip into a meditative state when I'm practicing my katas, and it's a lot easier to find serenity and patience. All things -do- resolve themselves in time, but sometimes the actions best taken to resolve them are like the movements that you'll learn in martial arts. Slow, steady, precise... may not look like you're doing much, but deceptively strong, and a heck of a workout."
Quark smiles as Jean describes her reasons for taking karate, as well as tips for relieving stress. Although he can't exactly attack things telekinetically...Still, he understands what she's talking about. At the description of how stress-relieving her forms can be, he smiles happily and closes his eyes, trying to imagine losing all that stress as she talks. Quietly, he mutters with a grin, "Anyone tell you that you can make people go into a meditative stance by simply talking?" A pause, and then he opens his eyes with a grin and adds with a chuckle, "Besides your students in class who don't like science and try to fall asleep, that is." Shrugging, he says, "That sounds really great, actually. Very great." Tilting his head in thought, he says out of curiosity, "I didn't realize you knew karate, too. I thought you did most of your fighting with your mind." Pondering, he asks after another short pause, "Since I seem to run into you much more often than Professor Logan, would -you- be willing to teach me some karate? Nothing really fancy, I mean...just some katas that might help me relieve some stress?"
"Thanks, you're too kind," is Jean's snort of amusement in return for the comment about meditation and talking. She finishes with a few deft combings of April's mane, and then leads the mare back to her stall again, offering over her shoulder that "Well, I don't actually know karate. I just know a sort of blend of different martial arts techniques that Logan's taught me. I may be a ranged fighter as far as mutant abilities go, but I prefer to keep the rest of me in shape too. Logan offers martial arts as an extracurricular. Just pop your name on the sign up sheet after the holidays... I could try teaching you, but I'm afraid you'd find me pretty frustratingly ideosyncratic."
Quark shrugs, not entirely disappointed, but not exactly given up on the idea, either. "I understand...but still, if for some reason Logan's not up to it later or earlier, I don't mind learning a unique style. As you may already know, I tend to learn things pretty fast." He grins, but he still tries not to sound conceited; it's simply a fact. "Either way, I don't mind. I'm just -really- interested in learning karate. I've been having this feeling lately with things related to Japan...kind of like my thing with phoenixes I was telling you about. The Phoenix Complex, as I'm beginning to call it," he grins. Shrugging, he says, "I don't know why, but I feel a similar bond to Asian culture, one I can't explain. Guess I better start doing research into Japanese myths next," he jokes. Or maybe it isn't a joke...? Time will tell. Setting the brush aside, he pats the horse and goes to grab his coat. As he puts it on, he waves to Jean with a smile and says, "Thanks for the talk Jean, it was great. I needed it." Looking towards the barn exit and what he hopes is falling snow, he starts to walk off--but not before looking over his shoulder and saying, "Merry early Christmas! See you around." After that, he walks out, considerably happier than he had been before arriving...
OOC: Thanks to Jean for a great RP scene! I wish I could've stayed longer, but we both had things going on. It was definitely fun, and hopefully I can develop a mini TP idea about this whole media thing...we'll see. If anyone has any ideas of how to get some interesting RP out of this whole 'media stink', give me a call. Hope you're all having a great weekend!