xp_logs | LOG: [Jennie, Marius] Decisions

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After Jennie comes to the infirmary to give Marius an account of the events at Forge's book signing, a course of action is decided upon.

"The prodigal has returned!" Jennie flung the door of Marius' medlab room open and held her arms out. "Not only has she returned, but returned triumphant!" She posed in the doorway with her hands on her hips. "Guess what happened?"

Marius straightened up from his pushups and swung himself into a sitting positioning. Healed though he was, his skin was still new and tight; he'd been hoping the basic exercise would do some good towards recapturing the old suppleness. "That quaint yet surprisingly risque little boutique finally had a sale and now you're going to encourage my recovery with sexy red stilettos?" he asked hopefully, pushing the hair out of his face. He winced at the feel of it. Whatever kind of Hell-atmosphere he'd been exposed to, it had not been kind to the follicles. First on my list upon getting out of here: stylist. Definitely.

"No....Well...no." Jennie shook her head. "You know how Forge had his big book-signing today, right?" She flopped herself on a nearby chair and stretched, wiggling her toes. The humidity had a tendency to leech her energy. "Guess who decided to show up?"

"It wasn't bloody Magneto, was it?" Marius asked her warily. "Because if it was Magneto Forge would need a good kicking after his little speech about one-upmanship in the flat. Or an additional kicking, that is," he added conscientiously. "He could always do with the one."

Jennie shook her head. "Close. Seems Mags is too busy to come to a book signing about him. Probably off plotting nefarious things. He did, however, send his lackeys." Jennie threw her hands up in the air. "And I missed it! Kyle had to explain what happened to me afterwards! Kyle!"

"Lackeys? Well sod. I missed lackeys." Marius sat back and gave her a look of mock-petulance. "Bloody docs. You know, I've still only met the one evil mutant? And yet, somehow, Forge warrants minions. You ask me that hardly seems fair." He heaved a much put-upon sigh and rolled his neck. "How'd that one turn out, then? Any good mayhem?"

"No! None whatsoever." Jennie said, chagrined. "Just people looking very purposeful and Kyle clinging to me like Terry does to Bobby. Then everybody left and I felt stupid for missing it all!"

"Well that's no good then. What's the use of a nefarious encounter if nothin' nefarious actually comes of it?" Marius asked, shaking his head. "Honestly. Does villainy these days demand no standards?" He had to wonder at the fact he found joking with Jennie about a run-in with the Brotherhood at his friend's booksigning such a relief, but he would take it. He smiled at her. Banter I can do. See, nice and normal. No worries, no problem.

Jennie shrugged. "Perhaps Magneto was doing something important. Like his laundry. Or cleaning his toenails." It was good to see Marius smiling. But she could tell he was still bothered. Distraction! He needed distraction! "So, um, I went by the building today. Before we went to the signing. You know, his building."

"Oh?" Marius raised an eyebrow. No need to ask which 'him' in this case. "A stakeout, was it? Was it fruitful, then? Was there bearing of fruit involved?"

"Nope. I wussed out. I didn't even go across the street." The sheer size of the building and the fact that doors to the place were gilded really threw her. No way they were going to let a scruffy 17-year-old with skull earrings even near the door. "Not like I'd get in anyway."

Marius pushed away from the floor, cocking his head at her. "How's that, then?" he asked. "It's all in the attitude. Act like you've the right to be there, no one questions. An', you know, you do. Eight pints've it, as a matter of fact." He felt his hackles raise on Jennie's behalf, ever so slightly. If there was one thing Marius had learned early on, it was that blood was everything. Blood conferred obligation. That was something Cartier had never shied away from, even despite the scrutiny conventional social mores and conservative peers had leveled against him. Legitimate or not, he'd owed his son no less. Marius saw no reason why Jennie's father should be any different.

Jennie frowned. "But your dad has always accepted you. Never had a problem with you. Mine...mine probably doesn't know I exist." Despite her mother's allegations to the contrary. "Besides, what do I do? Go up and say 'Hi! You don't know me, but you banged my Mom back in the eighties, and now you've got me! Surprise!" She shook her head. "It'll never work."

"Why not? If he doesn't know he can't have rejected you, right?" Marius stroked his chin with a measuring look, then nodded slowly. "Yes," he said, "yes, I shall do this for you. Once I am released and suitably well-groomed again we shall launch a preemptive strike. With your good luck and my flagrant disregard of anything remotely resembling shame the negligent bugger'll never know what hit him." Marius beamed at her. "It will be the perfect marriage of beauty and wit. Granted you'll be a bit redundant to the equation, but I find it never hurts to stock up."

Jennie stared. "You'd... you'd do that for me?" She was touched. And slightly frightened.

"Have you and your many encouraging shirts not been a constant source of support for me in my infirmity?" Marius asked with a wounded look, hand pressed over his heart. "Yes. When the Medical Redheads can finally be prevailed upon to release me we'll go and see this sorted. We're mates, aren't we? Together we are unstoppable. As on the dancefloor, so in life." This loose end had been bothering her for a while now, he knew -- and it would get him out of here. Out and doing was good. Right. Safely away from Medlab and on with his life. Marius gave his friend a wide smile. "No worries, Jen. She'll be right, you'll see."

Jennie rested her chin on her hand. This was going to end in tears, one way or another. But she couldn't see talking Marius out of it. "Alright." She sighed, "Alright."

Marius nodded somberly. "It's decided, then. Now," he said, clapping his hands together, "about that conditioner you swore you'd buy for me . . ."