xp_logs | Jean-Paul and Callie: Backdated to Wednesday

Half of the pointed-ears society meet during a late night kitchen raid.

Having worked straight through dinner, Callie was now acutely aware of the empty feeling in her stomach. As soon as classes had finished for the day she had settled into her room to work. Without Cessily's presence, Callie was able to work straight through all the readings and equations she needed to do without fear that she was disturbing her roommate. While that had resulted in an increase in her productivity, it also meant that she was no longer aware of time. Now that her stomach felt as if it was eating itself, Callie could no longer ignore the feeling and headed for the kitchen to fix something to eat.

Despite the lateness of the hour, the kitchen was already occupied. A tall, dark-haired man with pointed ears was leaning against the counter, seemingly in earnest contemplation of the canister of oatmeal he held in one hand and the bag of white chocolate chips in the other.

Callie was unsurprised that she wasn't alone in the kitchen, she had come to accept it as a fact of life that no matter what time it was she had a high probability of running into someone out and about. And although she had never met him, she knew instantly who the man standing in the kitchen was. There were only three people with pointed ears in the mansion, she was one of them, and that definitely was not Kyle. "Mister Beaubier," she asked as she stepped toward him. "Right?"

He glanced up at Callie and set the ingredients back on the counter. "That would be me, yes. Doesn't anyone sleep around here?"

"I'm Callie?, Callie Betto," she explained, hugging her body for warmth. "Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. I worked through dinner time. I wanted to grab something before I went back to homework?"

"We are in the same boat then, Mademoiselle. I just had a run-in with a student that left me wondering whether or not it would be worth the guilt of snacking between meals."

"I'm sorry." Callie paused and shifted her weight to the other foot. "May I ask you a question?"

"If you like." He smiled a bit. "I reserve the right to withhold sensitive information and government secrets, of course."

"What were you planning on making with white chocolate chips and..." She peered to the side. "Oats?"

He cleared his throat slightly. "I was trying to decide if I wanted oatmeal cookies with or without the candy chips." After a moment he sighed. "No, I was trying to decide if I should have the cookies with or without the chips. I know which one I prefer."

Callie thought for a moment, her face set in deep concentration. "Well..." she began after a pause. "You could separate the batter and do half with the chocolate and half without and then you get a mixture of both?"

"This suggestion sounds suspiciously like moderation, and that simply can't be allowed." He went searching the kitchen for a mixing bowl. "What assignment is it that has you up so late?"

That comment won Jean-Paul a small laugh as she made her way over to him. "Are you going to use the chips then?" She leaned against the counter. "Want some help? I was completing a physics assignment, and I need to finish a few chapters for lit before turning in."

"No. I'm going to remember that I'm trying to get back into shape and avoid the candy so that I may feel virtuous while eating baked handfuls of carbs and sugar."

If he was out of shape, where did that leave her? Instead of dwelling on it, Callie opened the cupboard and searched for what she had meant to eat in the first place. She smiled brightly as she was able to extract her personal jar of Nutella before placing it on the counter and reaching for a slice of bread and a knife. "Life without chocolate," she said as she covered the bread in a layer of brown. "Is a life not worth living. I forget who said that." She shrugged and took a bite of her supper.

"I managed well enough for a few years." Jean-Paul set the bowl down and, apparently impatient with his search for additional ingredients, flitted from cabinet to shelf to fridge rounding up what he needed before coming back to earth. "But it was a welcome reunion, I confess."

"I'm sorry, I didn't meant to be rude. Would you like some?"

"I'll survive until I'm done with these. Though, if you'd assist me with disposing of the evidence when I am through, I'd appreciate it."

Callie smiled brightly. "Oh I can help with that! And I mean if there are too many I'm sure we could find other people to feed them too. There are always people here who are willing to eat homemade cookies."

"But it's late and they should all be sleeping. Besides, the fewer witnesses, the better." Assembling the ingredients didn't take long, but he was stuck mixing them at a normal pace to avoid painting the walls with oatmeal batter. "You mentioned before that your father is a landscaper?"

"I can mix if you like?" She motioned to the bowl. "Ya. I don't know if you've heard of him, maybe? Giancarlo Betto? He does a lot of different artistic architectural landscaping. I told him you were teaching here. He seemed impressed. He remembers your Olympics."

"If you like." Jean-Paul handed the bowl off to the cerise-skinned girl. "I suppose I should be grateful. These days, it's being stripped of the medals that I get remembered for."

The batter was thicker than Callie had expected. It took a few difficult starts for her to get the hang of it, but soon she was mixing the cookie dough with relative ease. "It's still really cool that you competed. I mean how many people get to say that? How does this look to you?" She tipped the bowl out to show him the progress she had made on incorporating all the ingredients.

"It'll get stiffer as you mix. Here." He took the bowl back. "It's a pain in the ass, but worth it." He seemed to be ignoring the the matter of the Olympics now. "You know, I have not asked...what are your powers?" He knew perfectly well, but he was curious as to how she looked at the matter.

"Ummm I'm a chlorokinetic? Like I can control plants and stuff. Oh and talk to them. Well sorta." She fiddled uncomfortably with the end of her sweater. "It's kinda hard to explain."

"You seem to be doing all right so far. Cookie sheets?"

"I guess when you tell people you can talk to plants it gets complicated?" Callie hurried over to where the baking sheets were kept and pulled two out. She placed them on the counter and went to search for the roll of tinfoil. "You think two will be enough?"

"I think so." Back to the subject at hand as spoonfuls of dough plunked down onto the foil. "I confess to curiosity. I don't think of a tree as having a mind to talk."

"If not I can grab another." She assisted the new teacher with dotting the sheet with small, evenly spaced mounds. "And they don't really. It's not really like in the movies where they can have conversations like we are. It's more like... It's like sensations? Like they can react to the sun and grow toward it, you know? I'm sorry. Like I said, it's kinda hard to explain."

"So more empathy than telepathy?" The last scoop of dough wound up crowded into the corner of the second pan, but it was a fit, if just barely.

"Sorta? I mean not quite." Dough was scraped off the spoon and licked off as Callie thought. "But it's not just that. Because there are certain things I can't communicate or really understand. We have different experiences, but some of them are shared. Does any of this make sense?"

"Almost. Warmth is warmth, but how do you get across to a tree that there's such a thing as too much sun?" Jean-Paul slid the proto-cookies into the oven and leaned against the counter.

"Well I mean how do we know there's such a thing as too much warmth? Plants may not sweat, but they can shrivel up. I say 'sunburn' to you, and you probably know what I'm referring to even if you're not experiencing it. They're not exactly the same, but we can still follow each other."

"Interesting. So how do you feel about vegetarianism?"

"What do you mean? Like in what context?"

"Many vegetarians choose to abstain from meat for the sake of the animal. I was wondering if you've had similar thoughts where plants are concerned."

Callie thought for a moment. "Not exactly. I mean we need animals and plants to be able to survive, and not just for consumption. For other things too, like air. But like CENU says, I think we should treat them with dignity?"

Jean-Paul tilted his head. "You remind me a bit of a young lady I used to know. She spoke almost exclusively in questions."

Not knowing whether to take that as a compliment or not, she half-smiled to try and seem polite. "Thanks? I think?"

"Merely an observation." Jean-Paul looked away. "But back to the question of plants..."