Yvette, Kurt - Friday afternoon

[x-penance.livejournal.com]

Yvette is exploring the greenhouse when she meets Kurt.



It was easier settling into the school this time, perhaps because she was staying. Although not waking up in the medlab disoriented and confused after months comatose helped. Yvette was still shy about meeting new people, though, and tended, when not in class or with her friends, to explore the more out of the way parts of the mansion. Like the greenhouse upstairs, for instance. The fact there was a greenhouse upstairs was something of a wonder in itself, but it was such a greenhouse! Almost like being in a jungle. Yvette was creeping silently along the path, her dark red skin blending with the shadows, when she came across the blue man, sitting perched on the back of one of the benches along the path. She wasn't expecting company, especially such unusual looking company, and a soft noise of surprise escaped her as she involuntarially drew back into the shadow of a large rhodedendron.

Kurt had sharp ears, and turned towards the sound, a little confused - he hadn't heard anything before that, and he usually did unless someone was actively trying to be quiet. "Hello?"

His voice was quiet and slightly accented, something European. Not from her part of the world, but similar. But most of all, he seemed... preoccupied. Sad, perhaps - certainly not depressed, but he had the air of a man with much on his mind. Peeking out from behind the bush, she cleared her throat a little and replied, voice barely audible: "H-hello. I am being sorry for to bother you."

He straightened slightly, trying to get a better look, then smiled when he saw the red skin. "You are not bothering me. Yvette, yes?"

The smile was encouraging - she moved further out of the shadows and stood as upright as she could. "Yes, I am Yvette. Please to be excusing me, but I do not know your name. You are being a teacher here, yes?" He was much too old for a student, she'd decided. The yellow eyes intrigued her - he was as odd-looking as she was.

"I am", he confirmed, settling back on his bench as reassuringly as he could. "Of German and dance, and sometimes gymnastics. My name is Mr. W... Sefton. Mr. Sefton." He had to get used to it, after all.

She tilted her head a little at the correction, but nodded and came closer. "I am not being sure what I will be learning here yet. You are being from Germany, Mr. Sefton? You are having the accent, like me."

"From Germany, yes. I was born in Bavaria, raised among a Romani clan... do you know the Roma?"

"The Roma, yes, I am hearing a little of them." Mostly from her mother's stories of life before the war, when she lived with her family in a small village. As she spoke, Yvette was approaching until she was at the edge of the bench. Up close, his skin was even more blue, marked by scars that didn't look accidental. "You are leaving them to come here?" she asked. "Like I am leaving my home? To be learning?"

He didn't move, not wanting to startle her. "In a manner of speaking, yes. It was only a few years ago I came here, and this... was not the first place in America I came to."

He had a very careful way of speaking, as if there was much he didn't want to say. It was very different to the other students and teachers she'd met, but she guessed it was possibly because they were American and he wasn't. In that way, Mr. Sefton was much like the people at home. On impulse, Yvette fumbled around in the large pockets of the pinafore she wore over Mr. Forge's wonderful cloth and drew out an apple, carefully held by the tips of her talons. "Are you liking apples, Mr. Sefton?" she asked.

It was mostly because he didn't feel Stryker was a suitable topic to talk about with a child. He blinked, then smiled at her again, reaching out to accept the apple. "I like them very much. Thank you."

Her face remained as impassive as a china doll, but her eyes glowed brighter and as Kurt took the apple she climbed up onto the bench beside him, unconsciously mimicking his crouched position, long toe-talons curled over the edge of the wood. Fortunately, the socks she wore protected the bench from damage. "You are saying you are teaching the dance, also? Back in my homeland, before I am changing, I am liking to dance."

He looked sideways at her, turning his head without otherwise moving. "I do. Would you like to join the lessons, perhaps?"

Yvette looked down at her feet. "I..." she began, then stopped before deciding to plunge in. "I am not being good at the balance, now," she admitted. "My... mutant, it is making it not so easy to stand good. And I am having the trouble with my feet. I cannot..." She struggled for the right word and couldn't find it. "Holding the ground good?" she suggested, flexing her feet slightly to illustrate.

He peered solemnly at her feet, nodding. "I do see the problem. But a style might perhaps be found for you all the same. And of course, things may improve as you gain more control."

She nodded, eagerly. Control, yes, that was why she was here. And she'd already proved it was possible, with the way her face had softened before. "Mr. Forge is making me the socks, to be stopping me hurting the floor. Sometimes, it is being... how you say? Sliding?" she confided, with a giggle. "Sometimes I am sliding down the hall!"

Kurt laughed. "Ah, now that does sound like a fun activity. Do you ever do it on purpose?"

Her nod was conspiratorial. "With Angel. We are to race. But we are being careful - Laurie is watching, being sure there is not a person coming. I would not like to bump into someone and hurt them with my hair." She reached up and touched the razor sharp barbs of it, the self-repairing glove shredding and reknitting visibly. "Mama, she is saying I am not needing to be make pack my hairbrush, but I am bringing it all the same. One day, I will be using it again." There was quiet determination in her voice. "Is Mr. Sefton ever being fun on purpose?" she asked, tilting her head at him, those glowing blue eyes fixed on his face.

He took a breath before answering, and smiled crookedly. "It has been known, on occasion. And will again, more than likely."

He had a nice smile, she decided. Even with the fangs. "You can be with Angel and I when we are sliding the next time?" she suggested. "It is being very much the fun."

He considered this for a moment - on the one hand, he wasn't fourteen and it would get at the very least blinking if anyone saw, on the other, it did sound like fun and a little childishness never did anyone any harm. "Perhaps I will. Have you planned a time?"

She giggled at him. "It is being, how you say? Spur of the moment? Angel is saying we are grabbing the day, yes? But I am promising, the next time we are making the plan, I will be emailing to you. Secret message, yes?"

"A secret message it is", he said with a smile. "I will be sure to look out for it."