Jean-Phillipe and Laurie

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Another for the backdate file that got buried in my inbox. Backdated to January, Laurie and Jean-Phillipe meet on their way inside from their respective habits. Laurie's is rather more health-conscious than Jean-Phillipe's.



Laurie was counting silently in her head as she crossed the hall, letting the front door swing shut behind her. She'd just come in from archery practice and was trying to figure out just how many steps it was from the archery range to her room. Not exactly the most urgent of problems, to be sure but it was a lazy afternoon, snow falling gently outside, and she felt the need to keep her brain working after how cold it had been outside.

Jean-Phillipe was on his way back to his room after going out to the "smoker's porch" for a cigarette. He muttered under his breath in French about not being able to smoke indoors, but not too angrily, given that it was getting difficult to smoke even in France these days. The nicotine fix had him feeling better than he had been, so he offered a friendly "Bonjour" to Laurie as they both neared the staircase.

Laurie smiled back, remembering that this was the new boy, Marie-Ange's cousin whom she seemed to have quite a set against, which was surprising since from what she'd been saying she'd expected a Draco Malfoy level of 'elitist shithead' and not the seemingly friendly person who stood before her.

"Hi," she replied shyly.

That was the problem with greetings, then you were almost contractually obligated to make small talk, Jean-Phillipe mused. It wasn't that he didn't know how to make small talk, it was just that he hardly knew this girl...Laurie, his brain finally supplied. "And how are you today?" he asked politely.

"Good, good." Laurie replied, raising her bow as pushed the quiver into a more comfortable position on her back. "Just came back from archery practice. You?"

"Une cigarette," Jean-Phillipe said, with a graceful wave of the hand towards the porch. The thought of simply opening a window in his room had occurred more than once, but the groundskeeper was quite an intimidating presence, so he bowed to the rules of the mansion.

Laurie wrinkled her nose in disgust before realising how rude that might seem and smiled wryly at herself. Had she not had this conversation with Amanda more then once? People's habits were people's habits and it wasn't up to her to get them to change. Just as long as they didn't blow smoke into her face, or attempt to get her drunk, she couldn't exactly condemn for anything.

"That's nice," she said, "It's an um, a wonderful day outside."

Well, she was certainly never going to win any 'comfortable small talk' awards but she knew nothing about this guy beyond that Marie-Ange disliked him with seemingly the passion of a thousand suns and that he smoked. Neither was really a very good reference towards likability, still Laurie had never been one to judge on circumstantial evidence when she could help it.

Jean-Phillipe saw the wrinkled nose and shrugged. As long as she did not moralize at him, it did not really matter if she approved of his smoking habit or not. He did not as a rule worry about the approval of others very much. They could accept him as he was, or not. And if they did not, he did not trouble himself further with them. "Yes, it has been very pleasant this week," he continued the inane conversation. Why was it that when people had no idea what to talk about, they inevitably settled on the weather?

"So, are you as completely stumped for conversation right now as I am?" Laurie asked suddenly, a grin appearing as she got sick of the uncomfortable pauses and decided to do something about it.

Because really, when you lived in the same house, you were going to see all sorts of things, like people in their bunny slippers, or before their first cup of coffee. When you looked at it like that, how long could you keep up with the shyness? Better to just move beyond it, and she'd always found being a little forward always helped with that.

Jean-Phillipe chuckled. "Very much so," he agreed. "Small talk is not as simple as the cinema would like to have you believe," he observed, not offended at Laurie's forwardness at all. She seemed like a pleasant sort, eager to be friendly.

"Well, I suppose we could always start with where you were before you were here?" Laurie said, walking with him up the staircase. "I've always thought starting at the beginning was a good way to go on."

"I was in France, of course," he said with a teasing grin. "I worked in a warehouse job after finishing what you would call high school. It was boring, but not horrible. And then I manifested and decided to come here." One hand rubbed at his forearm under his long sleeves, a subconscious motion.

Laurie noticed the movement and frowned in concern, she had to stop herself from reaching out and pushing up his sleeve to take a look as she asked. "Are you hurt?"

"Non. It is an old injury, from my manifestation." He said it simply and without much emotion, clearly a subject he was loathe to speak at length about.

"One of the other people here, Jono. He burnt out the entire front of his chest when he manifested." Laurie replied, continuing up the stairs now that she'd confirmed he was fine. She'd have pried further but she'd learnt by now that if someone wanted to tell you something that they would.

"That puts a few scars in perspective, does it not?" Jean-Phillipe replied self-deprecatingly.