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xp_logsDriven from his self-imposed exile by hunger, Jean-Phillipe finds himself continuing a particular discussion with Yvette.
One could only spend so long in one's room before the pangs of hunger and smell of stale cigarette smoke began to be unpalatable, even to the most morose of moods. So Jean-Phillipe was making a late night raid on the foodstuffs in the kitchen. If only he could manage to get the food and get back to his room without having to talk to anyone. It had been bad enough when people had come to his room looking for him.
Unfortunately his wish was not to be. Perched on the stool kept in the kitchen for the younger students was Yvette, rummaging in one of the cupboards. On the counter sat a mug, a spoon and a bottle of milk, indicators she was in the process of making a drink for herself. She glanced over as Jean-Phillipe came in, the glow of her eyes the only light in the room. "Hello," she said with a small smile. "You are wanting the midnight snack, too?"
Jean-Phillipe started slightly. It was surprisingly easy to miss Yvette's dark red skin when you weren't paying attention, especially in the dark of night and given how quiet the small Albanian girl typically was. "Bonne nuit, Yvette," he said. "Oui, my stomach lodged a protest at how poorly I was treating it."
"I have not been seeing you for dinner," she replied, with a hint of admonishment, but only a hint. She liked Jean-Phillipe, he reminded her of Tommy and Kevin, with their solitary ways. "I am making the hot chocolate, would you be liking some?"
"Oui, merci," Jean-Phillipe replied somewhat gracefully, sitting down on one of the stools around the center island. "I have been...avoiding people," he said to her other remark. Not that it had stopped people from coming to his room.
"Is it the holiday?" she asked as she reached for another mug to add to things. She had found the hot chocolate mix and climbed off the stool to pour the milk into a saucepan and set it on the stove. "I know there are some people who are not liking the Christmas time."
"Not exactly." Though Jean-Phillipe was something of a Scrooge when it came to holiday spirit, that wasn't the reason. "Do you remember the conversation we had a while ago?"
Yvette paused in the middle of looking for a long-handled spoon to spoon chocolate mix with, and nodded. "About doing the things you were not sure you could be having the second chance for? Yes, I am remembering." The look she gave him was almost shrewd. "The thing you could not be telling me, you are talking to the people you need to?"
"Well, I planned on speaking to Inspecteur Kane, but then he was...attacked. I have spoken with le Profeseur though, yes." Jean-Phillipe was glad of the darkness, somehow it made it a bit easier to say these things. "Perhaps it is time I am honest with others, as well. You have been a good friend, petit rouge. Better perhaps than I deserve." He took a deep breath. "My purpose in coming here was to spy on the X-Men for the Brotherhood. But after New York...I no longer am sure that Magneto has the right idea. So I confessed to Xavier."
Between her glowing eyes and sometimes-expressionless face, it was often hard to judge Yvette's emotional state. There was a very long silence as she went motionless, her hand still gripping the wooden spoon she'd found. At last, she spoke:
"During the war, back in my homeland, people were doing many bad things, because they were afraid or they believed it was the right thing to be doing. After the war, everything was changing and people who were enemies were neighbours again." She finally looked up at Jean-Phillipe. "Did this Magneto hurt Jay and the others, because of something you are telling him?"
"I do not know," Jean-Phillipe admitted honestly. "I hope not. It does not seem like the sort of thing Magneto would do or condone." Sabretooth, on the other hand, was completely capable of that kind of casual violence. "And I had not told them anything about Jay, or Danielle, or Inspecteur Kane, beyond that he was one of the X-Men. And I still know almost nothing about Monsieur Wisdom, except that he helped me rescue my cousin from Caliban."
Yvette nodded, slowly. "And the Professor, he is believing that you did not say anything that would hurt the people here?" she asked, just to make sure. She couldn't imagine Jean-Phillipe being allowed to stay otherwise.
Jean-Phillipe nodded in reply. "He was...more understanding than I expected." For that matter, so had Kurt Wagner. Far more understanding than he perhaps thought he deserved.
"Then if the Professor is trusting you and you are being sorry and wanting to be different, I am believing that." Yvette spoke almost matter-of-factly, and continued her hot chocolate preparations. Perhaps she sensed some surprise from Jean-Phillipe, because she looked up at him and smiled. "It is being like my homeland. Enemies being the neighbours again. Sometimes we are having to forgive so that there is the peace."
One could only spend so long in one's room before the pangs of hunger and smell of stale cigarette smoke began to be unpalatable, even to the most morose of moods. So Jean-Phillipe was making a late night raid on the foodstuffs in the kitchen. If only he could manage to get the food and get back to his room without having to talk to anyone. It had been bad enough when people had come to his room looking for him.
Unfortunately his wish was not to be. Perched on the stool kept in the kitchen for the younger students was Yvette, rummaging in one of the cupboards. On the counter sat a mug, a spoon and a bottle of milk, indicators she was in the process of making a drink for herself. She glanced over as Jean-Phillipe came in, the glow of her eyes the only light in the room. "Hello," she said with a small smile. "You are wanting the midnight snack, too?"
Jean-Phillipe started slightly. It was surprisingly easy to miss Yvette's dark red skin when you weren't paying attention, especially in the dark of night and given how quiet the small Albanian girl typically was. "Bonne nuit, Yvette," he said. "Oui, my stomach lodged a protest at how poorly I was treating it."
"I have not been seeing you for dinner," she replied, with a hint of admonishment, but only a hint. She liked Jean-Phillipe, he reminded her of Tommy and Kevin, with their solitary ways. "I am making the hot chocolate, would you be liking some?"
"Oui, merci," Jean-Phillipe replied somewhat gracefully, sitting down on one of the stools around the center island. "I have been...avoiding people," he said to her other remark. Not that it had stopped people from coming to his room.
"Is it the holiday?" she asked as she reached for another mug to add to things. She had found the hot chocolate mix and climbed off the stool to pour the milk into a saucepan and set it on the stove. "I know there are some people who are not liking the Christmas time."
"Not exactly." Though Jean-Phillipe was something of a Scrooge when it came to holiday spirit, that wasn't the reason. "Do you remember the conversation we had a while ago?"
Yvette paused in the middle of looking for a long-handled spoon to spoon chocolate mix with, and nodded. "About doing the things you were not sure you could be having the second chance for? Yes, I am remembering." The look she gave him was almost shrewd. "The thing you could not be telling me, you are talking to the people you need to?"
"Well, I planned on speaking to Inspecteur Kane, but then he was...attacked. I have spoken with le Profeseur though, yes." Jean-Phillipe was glad of the darkness, somehow it made it a bit easier to say these things. "Perhaps it is time I am honest with others, as well. You have been a good friend, petit rouge. Better perhaps than I deserve." He took a deep breath. "My purpose in coming here was to spy on the X-Men for the Brotherhood. But after New York...I no longer am sure that Magneto has the right idea. So I confessed to Xavier."
Between her glowing eyes and sometimes-expressionless face, it was often hard to judge Yvette's emotional state. There was a very long silence as she went motionless, her hand still gripping the wooden spoon she'd found. At last, she spoke:
"During the war, back in my homeland, people were doing many bad things, because they were afraid or they believed it was the right thing to be doing. After the war, everything was changing and people who were enemies were neighbours again." She finally looked up at Jean-Phillipe. "Did this Magneto hurt Jay and the others, because of something you are telling him?"
"I do not know," Jean-Phillipe admitted honestly. "I hope not. It does not seem like the sort of thing Magneto would do or condone." Sabretooth, on the other hand, was completely capable of that kind of casual violence. "And I had not told them anything about Jay, or Danielle, or Inspecteur Kane, beyond that he was one of the X-Men. And I still know almost nothing about Monsieur Wisdom, except that he helped me rescue my cousin from Caliban."
Yvette nodded, slowly. "And the Professor, he is believing that you did not say anything that would hurt the people here?" she asked, just to make sure. She couldn't imagine Jean-Phillipe being allowed to stay otherwise.
Jean-Phillipe nodded in reply. "He was...more understanding than I expected." For that matter, so had Kurt Wagner. Far more understanding than he perhaps thought he deserved.
"Then if the Professor is trusting you and you are being sorry and wanting to be different, I am believing that." Yvette spoke almost matter-of-factly, and continued her hot chocolate preparations. Perhaps she sensed some surprise from Jean-Phillipe, because she looked up at him and smiled. "It is being like my homeland. Enemies being the neighbours again. Sometimes we are having to forgive so that there is the peace."
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