xp_logs | Angelo and Yvette, Thursday evening

Yvette comes to the boathouse, where Angelo tries to explain a few things then helps her write an e-mail.

Taking care not to puncture the surface with her hair or her still-exposed hands and feet, Yvette curled in a corner of the couch, eyes blazing so brightly they were like two small blue headlights. Amara had returned to the mansion, mentioning bringing back something to eat (there wasn't much in the boathouse kitchenette and she hadn't felt comfortable using Nathan and Moira's kitchen) and instructing Angelo that tea would probably be a good thing. The small girl hadn't said much, but the impression she gave was one of anger, not fright.

Angelo was brewing said tea, watching Yvette worriedly over the counter. It was one of the thicker china mugs he brought her when it was done, hoping that would be enough to stand up to her skin.

"Here, chiquita", he said, settling on the other end of the couch.

Yvette had a way around it - pulling the sleeves of her suit down over her palms with her teeth, she held the mug carefully sandwiched between them and sipped. "It is being good," she said at last, looking up at him. "What is meaning, chiquita? It is sounding... nice."

"It's meant to be", he said, smiling slightly. "It's Spanish, it means... well, the word means 'little girl', but it's sort of... like 'sweetheart'."

"You are being nice for me," she said, a little wistfully. "Like Tommy was being. I am not understanding why this is being a bad thing. Why that mean boy said those things."

Angelo drank a little of his own tea, choosing his words carefully. "It's not a bad thing that he was nice to you", he said firmly. "Not at all. Kyle was just... there are things from before that made him talk that way. Things Tommy did, before he came here, that make Kyle not like him. And I think he's having trouble thinking Tommy could have changed."

"I am not caring what Tommy is doing before," Yvette said, a small stubborn note entering her voice. "He is being a nice boy, even when I make fright to him in the hospital place. He is not hurting me or burning things down." Her eyes flared brighter, then dulled. "We are all being changed from what we were being before. Why is it being different for Tommy? Because he did bad things? I am hearing things, he is not being the only one."

"No, he's really not", Angelo said quietly. "An' I don't want you to give up on Tommy, whatever he says. If he's okay with bein' friends with you, then... then he's really not who he was before."

"I was seeing something... FOH? I am not understanding what it is meaning here, but it is sounding like the name for some of the people from my country, during the war. People who made hurt to other people." Yvette sounded troubled. "But I was to be saying to Angel, things are different in my country now. Remembering the bad things, not letting people trying to change... it is making things go back to the bad times. Some people are wanting this, but I am not. I am remembering the bombs and the people being hurt. I am not wanting that to be happening again." Her mouth drew in a firm line. "I am not giving up on Tommy. He is not what that bad boy is thinking he is."

"He's not now, I don't think", Angelo agreed. "Or not completely. The FOH is the Friends of Humanity - people who don't like mutants. Tommy used to be one of them, before he found out he was a mutant, and he stays here because they'd hurt him if they saw him again. And... yeah, some of the people here work to stop the bad times happening here. You stick with Tommy... it'll help, I think."

"I am wanting to help Tommy, he is helping me," Yvette said decisively. She sipped at the tea again, and then fixed Angelo with that bright blue stare. "I am wanting to send him a message. Can you be helping me?"

It was almost disconcerting, those blazing blue eyes, but he met her gaze squarely. "I said I would. It's called e-mail, by the way, the private messages... what help do you need?"

"E-mail." She repeated the word, memorising it. Carefully she set the mug down on the table in front of her and held up her hands. "I am not being able to type I am wanting to send this e-mail to Tommy now and not wait until I am going back to my own computer. If I say the words, will you be putting them down for me?" Again that determined set of her mouth, the most expression she could manage. "I am wanting to stick by my friend."