xp_logs | Jay & Yvette evening

After dinner, Jay flies around and finds exactly who he's looking for. He apologizes and they talk about Kevin, Yvette joining the team and how Jay misses his pies.

Gliding over head if the mansion grounds, he easily caught the wind without as much as a flap to give him lift. Despite his weight, he could have never glided like this with his old wings. They had been made by nature, designed more for constant flapping and downwards dives. Never had he imagined that he could coast so easily, bending his feathers down to slow his speed, smoothing them flat out to gain. As much as he wanted to carry on his flight in the damp morning, Jay descended, quiet and efficiently touching down on the wet ground and gave no hint that he was even approaching the tree house.

Hands shoved into his pocket, he tightened his lips and curled his tongue, blowing out a sharp whistle through his teeth.

There was a rustle and a thump and then a spiky red head appeared at one of the windows. "Jay?" Yvette said, blinking in surprise. "Was that you making the whistle?"

"Yeah that was me," he said, stopping at the base of the tree house, looking up. "Can Ah come up?"

"I am not so sure you will be fitting," she replied after a slight hesitation. "But I can be coming down." And with that she vanished from the window, only to reappear at the trapdoor, clambering down the ladder. "Hello, Jay."

Jay stood back, letting her climb down until she stood face to face with him. "Actually," he started and his wings folded up until they were no longer looming over the pair of them. "--Ah probably could fit now." He smiled easily, pulling out a red apple and offered it to her.

Yvette blinked as the wings disappeared. "I did not know they could be doing that," she said, then reached tentatively for the apple. Her movements were cautious, not out of fear, but out of concern that she might upset him. "Thank you. Are you..." She paused, trying to figure out the best way to say 'not crazy anymore?' and settled for: "Are you well?"

"Ah ain't crazy, " he supplied. "If that's what you meant?" He was trying not to scare her, even though most of his friends had somewhat forgiven him because they'd been down a similar road. "Ah ain't. Ah'm just a little jittery. That's all." Though the 'jitters' had worn off some since Garrison and Dani decided to take matters into their own hands.

"Perhaps I am meaning that a little," she admitted. "I was worrying for you. You were so... broken." Of her own fear, she said nothing - it wasn't important and she'd coped just fine. "I am sorry if Mr. Logan was hurting you, but he seemed to be the best person to be helping. He has been broken like that also."

"Yeah, well, you know, who hasn't?" He asked, looking up into the tree house. On a whim, he started to climb and paused, looking down at her. "Never been able to fit before." He was glad she seemed to forgive him on some scale. He'd still not forgiven himself, but then, he hadn't really been himself as of late.

"Well, there is being broken and there is breaking." Yvette was content to watch him climb - if he was twitchy, she didn't want to box him in an enclosed space. "Sometimes there are things that happen to us that we cannot be understanding or wanting. Like what is happening to my mother." It was an admission of forgiveness, an acknowledgement that Jay hadn't been himself. "There were some times when I was the small girl where she is not being able to control her being angry at what is happening to her, and she is screaming at me. But she is not meaning it."

"Ah've never hurt anyone like that," he confessed. "Ah've punched Kyle before, but he deserved it," Jay commented, disappearing through the hatch. "Okay, it's a bit of a tight fit," he said, shuffling around until he could look down at her. "What did you do up here? Read?" he asked, laying down flat on his stomach.

"I know you did not mean to be scaring me, or hurting Forge," Yvette said. "And yes, I read. Sometimes I do the homework, or practice the wood carving. It is my quiet place, yes? And in winter, not so many people are wanting to use it."

Crossing his arms in front of him, Jay rested his chin against the cool skin of his forearm, watching her. "Kevin used to come here with you, didn't he?" he asked.

Cautiously, she nodded. This was "Here Be Dragons" territory. "Sometimes,"she replied. "He is liking the quiet places too."

His head rolled to the side, picking off a piece of wood on the edge, one that would cause a sliver if it were to catch anywhere near skin. "Ah'm glad he ain't here. But if yer talkin' to him, he needs to send my mah guitar home. My Da gave it to me. Ah want it here, with me," with family.

"I will be asking him. He is saying that he might come for the visit, to watch the play." She bit her lip, glad Jay wasn't angry, but still worried about things. "He... he was thinking you were dead, Jay. He would not be taking the guitar otherwise."

"Yeah Ah know. I just want it back," he put it simply without the anger in his voice. Dying wasn't the only thing he'd come to terms with.

He looked down at her then, dropping the piece of wood down below. "Could you maybe talk to him for me? You know, just say that Ah don't wanna see him. Ah hate to ask you to be the messenger but Kev and Ah can't think straight when we're around each other. Not even in email." He didn't want to go into the why he didn't want to see Kev. Jay thought that was pretty obvious.

"Of course." Yvette sighed, but didn't argue. She'd seen for herself how much the two boys could drive each other crazy. "He has changed, also, I think. He does not sound the same person, in his letters." She wasn't about to say that he sounded happier - Jay probably wouldn't like that.

For once, Jay didn't sound woeful or wistful when he talked about Kevin. The conversation to him was mostly about getting his guitar back. He'd not been too happy, though in all fairness, Kevin had left him the sketchbook, but still, it wasn't the same. It wasn't a gift from a dead loved one.

"Yeah, everyone's changed," he said, putting distance between himself and the subject of his ex or whatever he had been at the time. "You've changed a lot," he said, perking up and nodding to her.

She looked up, eyes flashing for a moment with pleasure. "In the good way, yes?" she asked, hopefully. "I have been working hard, to be more grown up."

An easy grin spread at her delight, "You walk around a bit different. Head a little higher? Maybe you're growin' too. Gettin' prettier."

At that, she looked down, scuffing her foot in the ground slightly. "You are being nice," she protested, but not too much - it pleased her that someone said she was pretty. "But thank you, to be saying such things."

Jay shifted around and sat up, palms flat on the ground as he manoeuvred himself over the hatch and dropped down, landing with a THUD directly next to her.

"You know pretty don't always mean what’s on the outside, right? Even still, you don't think someone could fall for your spiky self?"

She shrugged. "People have to be seeing past the spiky me to see the rest," she explained. "Not so many do so, or they are seeing me as the little girl, the little sister, yes?" She shook her head, long, stiff curls rattling a little against each other, like a strange wind chime. "It does not matter so much. I have many things to be keeping me busy, and after my birthday, there will be the X-Men training also."

He thought to point out that the ones who stuck around were the important ones but another subject pulling him into a complete 180. "You're joining the team?" Oh Christ. Was everyone on the team now? "When did this happen?"

"When you were disappearing and we thought you were all dead," came the matter-of-fact reply. Yvette had gotten used to this kind of reaction - it went hand-in-hand with people assuming from her size and English that she was a small child. "I am being tired of my friends being hurt, Jay. I have the powers that are made for the fighting - it is seeming the best thing to do is to be using them for the X-Men."

"Ah'm not saying you can't do it. Ah'm just saying that on the team, you gotta make a choice. Maybe it ain't a choice you wanna make but you gotta and then you gotta live with it. That's all. But you're a big girl. You can make your own decisions. Just remember that it's like a cop. You ain't doing it for you. You're doing it to protect. It's just when you try to stop someone and a girl gets in your way while you're doing it. You kill her and later find out that she's a mother of three, just mindin' her own business." He brushed a hand through his hair and sighed, clearly not happy about her decision, but not about to sway her.

"Ah don't think it’s always about fightin' the bad guys... more about what's in between." He could only remember Day Zero and how everyone had hit and whaled on Apocalypse. He had cast his judgements, but now, he killed that very man and he was open to just as many judgements as anyone else.

Yvette laughed a little, a sad-sounding laugh. "I know it is not the game, Jay. It is like being the soldier, fighting for the country so that other people can be safe, yes? Doing what must be done." She looked down at her long, unnatural hands. "This body... it is made to protect. That is what my gift is. And there are those who are not, who cannot be helping themselves. I can be helping them, though, yes? It is what my mutation is making me to do." She reached out finally, and lay a gloved hand on his arm. The change in his skin texture was very vaguely noticeable through glove and rock-hard skin. "I am knowing what the war is like, how it can be changing people. I will be careful."

Funny thing, her reaching out did to him. His arm shifted, to dodge her touch only slightly, but she still managed to place her hand over his skin. He looked down at it, chewed at his lip and looked up. That easy smile returned and he casually slipped his arm away, tucking his hands into his pockets. " Just don't be askin' me to join. Ah ain't no hero," he said firmly.

"C'mon, let’s go inside and see what they made. The kitchen sure ain't the same without Lorna," he sighed. "She made some damn good apple pies."

"That is not what Forge is saying," she pointed out, grinning back a little even as she took the hint and pulled her hand back. "And I am thinking Miss Amara made the cookies, yes?" The grin turned impish. "She is always happy to be sharing the baking and she is better at the cooking than Miss Lorna, I think."

Jay snorted. "You don't know what you're talkin' bout. And cookies? It don't replace pie, ever." He needed to have a talk with Forge. One that involved pie.