Backdated Tuesday Manuel & Jean-Paul

[x-empath.livejournal.com]

Jean-Paul comes to Manuel's room, investigating a drunken Empath. One plays off the other until they end up going in circles.

It was pleasant to sit behind the walls of his suit, in silence except for the occasional emotional churning of Valentia in the back of his mind, slowly subduing herself into a sleep. While she was looking through pictures of books, Manuel was sitting on the couch, counting how many books would drop from her bed before she fell into a deep sleep. He could have easily coaxed her into one, but it was hardly healthy, similar to a drug where without it, one could not find peace in unaided sleep and she needed all the sleep she could get on her own.

Kyle's 'Going outside so I don't kill people' was the perfect excuse to nestle down in to the couch and flip on a favourite classical station, if only to find some relaxation before sleep tugged at the corners of his senses.

Jean-Paul was approaching from up the hall, an overlay calm touched with concern and a diffuse annoyance which had been dismissed by the time the Canadian knocked on Manuel's door.

Naturally it took almost a minute before the door was answered. Regardless of Manuel's state - loosely buttoned shirt, rolled up sleeves and a somewhat crumpled rump - he maintained his stability. The door was abandoned the moment his eyes locked with Jean-Pauls. "House keeping. Wonderful. And no, I am not drunk. I am simply fashioned this way by my heritage. Cheers."

Jean-Paul snorted softly, brushing past Manuel to set a bowl of mixed berries on the coffee table. The concern didn't abate. "I come to save you from a lonely evening and I get demoted to 'house keeping'? You are a wretch and have it mind to stop feeding you."

Manuel snorted back, obvoiously in mockery. "You are too consumed in your impulses to stop feeding me," he waved Jean-Paul off dismissively. "Consider the demotion an act of mercy. There are other things worse than...." he trailed off, gesturing to a lost word he was looking for. The english word. "Than... the .. Ah never mind."

"Than playing border collie to all the little lost lambs around here," Jean-Paul supplied dryly. "Or last year's mutton, as the case may be. Sit down before I carry you to the couch."

"Carry me and it will be the last thing you ever do. " He did not feel that he needed to add how perfectly capable he was to walk. His cane was his stability. Poor stability but still an anchor in his step. However he did as he was told, if only to pick up his glass and take a very healthy drink accompanied by a long and hearty satisfied groan. "My thrist for headaches is surprisingly strong lately. Would you like a glass?" It was a poor host that offered his guest a drink after he'd already sat down.

"I don't think I could possibly enjoy it as much. What has happened that you're treating your wine like a long-lost lover?" Jean-Paul took a seat at the other end of the couch.

"Simply a man enjoying his wine after dinner," he replied simply, looking into his glass as though the shallow depth of the glass. "Would you like to play a game?" Manuel asked a little to cheery. He set his cane aside and shuffled down on the couch, propping his legs short of Jean-Paul and stretching out completely, holding up his glass.

With a equal parts curiosity and wariness, "What kind of a game?"

"Ah," Manuel laughed with a michievious grin adorning his face and he sat up some, folding an arm behind his head, tipping his glass to Jean-Paul's. "Whatever you would like."

"I have been teaching fairy tales all term, and this is sounding suspiciously like the sort of thing that will end with me waking up in a magic circle and everyone else asking where I've been for the last ten years." Jean-Paul regarded Manuel for a few moments. "I do not have the patience for chess and I do not think any of Valentia's games will do."

"A shame. Valentia's games are very simple too and chess is very good for the mind." He waved the glass in front of him, fluid in the movement. "I am tempted to bait you, however that would have a poor outcome. You are very tempermental."

"I should hope so. I'd hate to be fraudulently famous for two things." Jean-Paul popped a raspberry into his mouth. "Hm. I don't think 'truth or dare' would be good for anyone in this room."

"Dare, no, Truth, possibly, however, I believe I have indulged in enough truths for a week. Actually, I do have a dare. How fast can the mighty Jean-Paul Beaubier fetch Manuel de la Rocha another bottle of Merlot?"

"Is my company so trying?" Jean-Paul shook his head. "I'm not giving you the means to become utterly drunk. I have no intention of being the only functioning adult in the suite and being thusly roped into free babysitting. Very cunning of you, however."

"Was that a rhetorical question?" He simply shrugged. "You cannot blame a man for trying. Did you know that this room is blocked from others? I can only sense my slumbering sister and you."

"I did not know. Even with your shields back, it must be quite the haven."

"Oh but were we not thinking of a game, yes? You tell me all your secrets and I will tell you none of mine." He paused, taking another drink and gesturing to the berries. "Trialing company brought berries. That is such an odd gesture."

"Easily prepared and they make an acceptable dessert, particularly if Kyle is about." Jean-Paul leaned on the arm of the sofa, half-lounging. "I don't know that there is much to tell. My life has been very thoroughly investigated, commented on, and picked over."

"Mmm that Merlot is looking very good now," Manuel chuckled.

"You'll need to ask for something more readily available than secrets. I'm surprised you would care, anyway. I cannot be that much of a mystery to you."

Arching his back in a stretch, Manuel set the glass down on the coffee table and smoothed a hand over his chest. "Caring is such a needy emotion. It means I would have to look beyond the end of my upturned nose."

"Hmm." Jean-Paul quirked a smile. "I do believe I am being mocked. But it must be paranoia. I'm sure you would never."

"Never." Manuel adjusted his seat, shifting due to the pain in his hip and it prompted himto pick up his glass. He took another healthy drink of the red wine then set it down. "Must be your age that makes you paranoid," he mused.

"It just means I've lived long enough for the lessons to sink in." Jean-Paul watched Manuel drain his glass. "So that's the whole bottle, then?"

"Yes, I do think it is." And that was disappointing. "It is a wonder I open my door to you when you hold such a supicion. Is this the norm?" Apart of him wanted to answer that question and say yes, but only because of the times he's come across Jean-Paul's signature when it heightens.

"Because I can quite possibly watch more than one back at a time? Border collie, watchdog...it is much the same."

"Dogs are opportuntist, selfish when it serves their own purpose. They bite the hand that feeds them and usually that hand is forgiving."

"Speaking of bitches and biting, how is Kyle doing since that nonsense on the journals? Have you seen him?"

"I have not seen what passed on the journals however, Kyle has decided to sleep elsewhere. I believe he is taking up residence in the woods for a night so he does not kill anyone. He is very easy with his emotions and I believe you have to be very stupid to piss him off. "

"Non, you just have to not care and have nothing to lose. Kyle is not her teammate, she is not within easy reach, and the girl is confident that she can hold her own against him if he were to show up." Jean-Paul reached for the bowl again. "We do talk in circles around each other."

Now it was Manuel's turn to be curious. He lazily reached over and plucked a berry from the bowl, raising a brow in speculation. "Do we now?" He paused to inspect a berry, turning it over before placing it in his mouth. "I had not noticed."

"Oh, yes. We banter nicely until someone nearly says something relevant, then we snark until it is safe, and then back to banter. It's a wonder we seek each other out as we do."

"Perhaps it is a ploy?" Manuel wriggled his toes and then crossed his legs, tapping his fingers on his stomach. "I read emotions better than I do with physical suggestion or bodylanugage and words are nothing to me, simply a barrier when I do not understand.Therefore, I fall back on what I know best, the emotional turmoil of others. Perhaps that is what draws me to you and you to me." His matter of fact tone was cool and precise and could give very little else, in any other terms. "There, see? Facts. Is that better for you?"

"So long as my turmoil is not bothering you."

"Unless your name is Forge, Lillian or Camille," Manuel countered. "While problematic, you are easier to ignore since you are in a constant of turmoil. Lucky me, that is the equivalent of quiet."