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Saturday evening, Manuel and Marie-Ange have a chat.

Manuel is in his room, looking somewhat confused. He's got his iPod on, but the earbuds are not in and the player isn't playing. He's staring at the wall opposite of his door, apparently doing some very heavy thinking. Next to his chair is a filched bottle of wine, still chilled from the minifridge in his room, and unopened.

Marie-Ange stands outside Manuel's door, and knocks hesitantly once, and then more firmly a second time. She's got a thick well-used sketchpad under one arm, and a tightness to her body language and around her eyes that screams "I need to get this done and over with."

Manuel waves Marie-Ange through the open doorway. "Come in, come in." he says in heavily accented English.

"Do you have a few minutes to talk? I think.. no, I know I need to tell you a few things." She steps into the room, obviously less than comfortable, but more determined than nervous.

And her uncomfort levels are hitting his mind like a sledgehammer. "Please, sit down. Relax. Tell me what's bothering you. It seems to be my day for it." he asks, motioning to his free chair. "Can I offer you wine?"

The offer of wine actually relaxes Marie-Ange more than any of the rest. "You can, and I would accept, but America has this 'drinking age' law that we are supposed to follow, even in a private place." She sits gracefully in the chair, and tucks her legs underneath her. "This is hard to explain..."

Manuel uncorks the wine bottle with a practiced twist of the corkscrew, and pours Marie-Ange a glass before pouring himself one. He then stares at her, as her emotions run hot. "You are upset. At me?"

Marie-Ange takes the glass, ignoring the brief jab of worry at being caught, and takes a drink before speaking. "No, I am not upset at you, but... you are a piece of why I am upset. I have not been honest to you about something, and I should have been."

Manuel quirks both his eyebrows. "Not something I hear every day." he comments, before leaning back in his chair. "So why _are_ you upset?" He can sense it, clear as day, and despite her protests he knew it had something to do with him. The guilt made that clear.

Marie-Ange takes a deep, slow breath, and another drink before answering. ~Like with Shinobi, there is no way to say it but to say it~ "I dream about the future. I did not know what it was at first, but some of them have come true. You were in some of those. You are in some that have not happened yet also."

Manuel takes a deep drink of his wine to cover his shock. "Is that so?" he says slowly. "That is interesting."

Marie-Ange uncurls her free hand from the spine of her sketchpad, and begins turning the pages, obviously looking for something specific. "I draw pictures from the dreams I remember. I have not counted how many, but it is rather a lot." She turns the book to face Manuel, to show a pencil sketch of him, with long rough hair, and a beard. The page is dated two months before Manuel arrived, and is accompanied by several smaller sketches, and a few scrawled notes in French.

Manuel looks over at the pictures, and sucks air in between his teeth. "Aiee. This is me, before ... before you knew me." Her honesty hits him like a hammer between the eyes.

Marie-Ange nods. "I know. It is very much what you looked like when you arrived as well. It was ... a small shock to greet me the first time I saw you." She shakes her head, frowning "I should have told you before, and .. that is not the only person I have seen, or the only time I have seen you."

Manuel takes another drink of his wine, draining half the glass in a single smooth swallow. "I am listening." he says, his English skills deteriorating.

Marie-Ange drops the sketchpad into her lap, and leans back into the chair, looking less nervous and relieved at the lack of anger. "I do not know why you are in them so often, or what they mean. I can give you details, if you want, but .. there are enough that it is hard to know where to start. The dreams are not.. ah. I do not know the word. Dans l'ordre In order."

Manuel nods with some irritation. "Show me." he orders, then takes another drink of his wine. "I want to see."

Marie-Ange stops moving for a moment, and just holds her wineglass in her hand, stunned by the request. "Oui. Naturellement." She turns the sketchpad back around to face Manuel, and turns a few pages, then stops. "It.. would it be easier if I let you just look? There are people I do not recognize in this, and I am learning that sometimes, other people know them." She frowns. "Shinobi's father was one."

Manuel scowls. "Sebastian Shaw?" he says with real, honest anger in his voice. "I would give much to get my hands on that one. But let me see the pictures..." And he flips back to the beginning of the sketchbook and examines each one in detail. Some of the early ones have nothing to do with the dreams, so those Manuel just skips. Manuel looks at the pictures, stopping on the a drawing of Emma, shaded in a rainbow of pastels. "This ... this is familiar to me." he admits in a quiet voice. "Have you developed empathy?" he asks, more sharply than he would have liked.

Marie-Ange tilts her head at the question. "I would hope not! I have enough problems with the powers I have already." She leans closer to look at the drawing. "Oh. That was from the same dream that I saw you in, the first time. "

Manuel looks at the image. "This is how _I_ see people? The colors - they are emotions. Concern, fear, anger, despair - it's all here. This is _amazing_ - I never thought of trying to draw what I see."

Marie-Ange smiles at the compliment, pleased, first because it is unexpected, second simply because it is Manuel saying it. "Is this how you see people? I suppose, yes. It has only happened in dreams where you were there. There is another picture, of Shinobi's father, the same way."

Manuel nods. "It is crude, but that's basically it. I see their emotions as colors, swirling around them. Anger, love, fear - each feeling has its own color. Intensity of the color determines strength of feeling. And then there are the threads, but I do not have the words to describe them."

Marie-Ange shakes her head, perplexed. "So, I dreamt about you, seeing people's emotions? This gets more confusing by the day." She pauses in thought for a brief moment, and then continues. "There are threads? Like, a thread you would use to sew clothing?"

Manuel shakes his head. "Not exactly. They connect us together. Right now, for example, there is one between you and I. It is the green of curiosity, and it connects you, this sketchpad, and me. This tells me that you're curious about me, and curious about what I think about this sketchpad. I think, I am not very good with the threads yet."

"You can tell .. all that?" Marie-Ange pales, and ducks her head briefly in embarrassed realization. "There we not any such threads in saw in the dreams, but ... I am not very good with the dreams yet, either." She speaks rapidly, intent on diverting the subject.

Manuel frowns at Marie-Ange, not catching her cascade of words. "I'm sorry, I do not understand such fast speech." he confesses.

"My apologies. .. I did not see any threads in either of the dreams, but, I am not very good with the dreams yet, either." She repeats her last words at a more normal rate. "It is odd that I would see what you see, in a dream. Perhaps it is something important, how those people were feeling?"

Manuel nods. "It could be. Dreams are not my ... knowledge, either. I remember seeing this, when I was trying to break her. This is how she looked to me before we came to our arrangement." He looks fairly stunned, and a little sad.

Marie-Ange does not respond for some time, thinking over what Manuel has said, not sure how you should respond to something like that, or even if there is a response she can make. "It is probably important then. I .. wish I had known what I was seeing then. I thought it was just nightmares."

Manuel waves that off. "When my power first arrived, I thought I was going mad. Everything was done up in shades of red and yellow."

"You did not suspect, that you might be... " Marie-Ange frowns again. "For me, it was already what everyone was talking about, who was a mutant, and who was not. One of my classmates grew in feathers, instead of hair, and it was in the papers."

"It was not talked about in polite society. Anyone who might have been different just ... disappeared ... and was never spoken of again." The thought apparently makes Manuel sad, and his eyes shift ever so slightly red as he radiates that sense of sadness and profound loss for a moment or two.

Marie-Ange shifts in her seat, and meets Manuel's eyes. "I .. do not have the right words, but I am sorry, if it helps."

"I know you are." he says softly. "But there's nothing that can be done now about it. I escaped, that's the important thing."

Marie-Ange nods silently, and looks towards the sketchpad briefly, just a flicker of her eyes. The barest hint of understanding some of those images has passed through her thoughts. She finishes her drink, and slowly, with great care as to her words, asks a question. "There is nothing now, is there something later, that you are planning?"

Manuel smiles coldly. "Perhaps." is all he says. Then he takes another drink of his wine, and returns his attentions to the sketchpad. "Some of these - very interesting."

Marie-Ange half-smiles. "Some of them make no sense to me. It is a piece of why I am telling people now."

"Many of them do not make sense to me. Some of them do. I do not think I can be of any more aid to you than I have already been." he says tiredly.

"You have explained a lot. I appreciate it, thank you." Marie-Ange looks towards the door. "Should I let you be?"

Manuel shakes his head. "Stay for a while, if you would. We do not talk, and we should. I have yet to thank you properly for taking care of me when I first arrived."

"It was... " Marie-Ange stops herself, remembering Manuel's power and what he has said about lying. "It was not nothing, but it was the right thing to do. For a while, we wondered if you would wake, I am glad you did."

Manuel smiles an honest smile. "I am too, in all honesty."

Marie-Ange returns the smile, although hers is mixed with a hint of teasing. "I feared for some time, that you would be responsible for the ruin of every shirt I owned. "

Manuel rolls his eyes in mock-disgust. "MUST you keep mentioning that? I wasn't exactly in a state to keep from ruining your wardrobe. Besides, you like shopping."

"Would it make you feel better if I said you were the only person I would let throw up on me?" Marie-Ange smiles, and points towards Manuel's closet. "You seem to be fond of it yourself, by the number of packages you have gotten recently."

Manuel shrugs in mild embarrassment. "I got tired of looking shabby and common." he offers by way of explanation.

Marie-Ange raises her eyebrows at the shrug, and returns one of her own. "You have good taste, in clothes and colors."

Manuel smiles at that. "I had better - I was raised to be able to tell the finest in all things." he says, then gives one of those Looks at Marie-Ange. "You don't do too badly yourself."

Marie-Ange's cheeks flush pink, because one of those Looks is not what she expected. "Merci." She ducks her head, pleased at the compliment, but not sure what to do with it.

That pleasure is reflected back to Manuel, who can't help but feel it. "Ahhh, it is truth. So, outside of squabbling with the Russian, what is it that you do with your time here?"

At the mention of Piotr's name, Marie-Ange's face twists for a moment. "Mostly classes, as we all do. I draw, which you know now, although I think I may drop my art class. Again. I probably should not fight with Piotr though even if is he being un salope fou..

He doesn't know the word, but the feeling behind it comes right through. "Yes, that's the impression I got. Although since I do not like liking men I tend to stay away from him as much as possible." he says.

"That is.. " Marie-Ange closes her eyes, trying to make sense of what Manuel just said. "That is horrible, and confusing. If you are near someone who likes a thing, you also like it, even if you .. do not really like it? How .. terrible."

Manuel nods. "I have grown accustomed to it. Before, it was much much worse. Now, at least, I can mostly realize what desires are mine and which are not."

Marie-Ange shakes her head, slowly. "That is still... " She stops herself. "I am sorry. I .. keep reminding you of unpleasant things."

"If I got upset every time someone brought up something unpleasant in my life, I would spent all of my hours of every day sobbing. There are things which must be endured." he adds casually.

"But, it is not needed for me to bring them up more, no? Especially when you are kind enough to not treat me like I am strange or awful for seeing what I do." Marie-Ange smiles sadly. "It is not fair to make more unpleasant things for you to remember."

Manuel can't really argue with that logic. "What you do is ... wondrous. Both your talents. You should not be ashamed of them. Take pride in them."

Marie-Ange makes a noncommittal noise, trying not to disagree openly. "Ah. I am frustrated by the one. It shows me things I do not always want to see. I wonder how useful it is to see the future when I do not know how to tell what I can do with it."

"At the risk of sounding trite, some warning is better than no warning. To be able to _see_ the _future_ ... what a gift! Makes mine look inconsequential and meaningless by comparison..." he gushes.

Marie-Ange laughs at that last. "And, I was thinking the same about yours. To know what people are feeling, it is better than having to guess all the time. I can never tell."

Manuel shrugs. "Ahh, to have control over it - now that would be a wondrous thing indeed. If I could block others out completely..."

There is an awkward pause, as Marie-Ange tries to decide on a response. She isn't entirely sure there is one to begin with, and finally decides that a subject change is the only safe way to proceed. "You asked what I do, so, it is only fair, when you are not helping cause glitter-covered chaos, what do you use your time for?"

Manuel laughs lightly at that. "I plead temporary insanity on that one." he chuckles. "Mostly, I spend my days taking classes, working through physical therapy, and talking with Emma. A fairly boring routine, although I do find time for my amusements."

"I am just glad I was not a target. Clarice approves of glitter, and I think she was inspired by you and Amanda." Marie-Ange grins, though with a shudder at the idea of Clarice and the glitter and plaid. "Amusements?"

Manuel smirks. "Amusements." he says with a grin. "Although my amusements have another function as well. They help me refocus my will, to keep others out and myself in."

"Oh. I .. think I understand. English is a damnable language." Marie-Ange frowned. "Worse when half of our classmates speak strange variants of it. I still do not understand why Jubilee persists in saying "like" every third word."

He laughs at that accurate description. "I think it has something to do with California." he says with a smile. "Emma and Doug together are wonderful teachers. I understand most of what people tell me now."

Marie-Ange nods. "Doug is .. far better with his power than he thinks. He thinks about it too much without just using it." She tilts her head, looking at Manuel quizzically. "Did you tell him that he helped? I .. think he could use the compliment right now."

Manuel shakes his head. "Doug has been avoiding me of late - like so many others have."

"That is not you. That is Doug." Marie-Ange scowled, irritation with Doug rising. "He thinks he can be a hermit when he is upset. Feh."

"In his defense, he claims he does not wish to upset me any more than is necessary. I think he is being a coward, but I cannot tell without seeing him. He has grown adept at avoiding me." he says.

"He is good at avoiding everyone. If I thought I could, I would make him do something to fix it."

"I could, but Emma tells me that it would be wrong. And I could not make the change permanent." The frustration is clear in his voice.

Marie-Ange sighs. "He would probably hide again afterward, anyway, and we would have to get Jamie to sit on him to keep him from running away from talking to people." She wrinkles her nose in thought for a moment. "You would think that what we do with our powers would not be the things we are so scared of."

Manuel hmms at that thought. "Sometimes, it is the things we do with our power that frightens us the most." he admits quietly.

Marie-Ange let out the breath she hadn't known she was holding. "Yes." she says, with a great deal of agreement in her voice. "Oh yes."

"I am trying very hard to not actively use mine. It has been - enlightening." he says quietly. "Too enlightening."

"I have been told, recently, by an outsider that I rely on it too much. So I've tried to stop using it - and the results have been very interesting." he says, in the same vein. To cover for himself, he kills the last of his glass of wine and pours himself another.

"Using your power has been enlightening, or not using it? I am confused." Marie-Ange tilts her head, an obvious gesture of befuddlement. "I think if it is the first, I agree. Using mine shows me things I do not want to know."

"Not using it." he answers, before taking another sip of his wine. "Using it, that's easy. Not using it - now that's hard."

"I do not understand. I thought you could not not know what people felt?"

Manuel smiles thinly. "And I still cannot. What I can do, however, is not change the feelings around me, whatever they may be. And _that_ has been enlightening."

Marie-Ange sits in stunned silence for a moment. "Oh." She grows silent, not sure how to react.

"Oh." he echoes. "Things have been ... different, to say the least."

"Different. Yes, I .. suppose they would be." The uncertainty is still in Marie-Ange's voice, and she curls her legs tighter under her.

Manuel shrugs, easily picking up on Marie-Ange's distaste. "You do not like this news. It disturbs you." he states.

Marie-Ange shakes her head slowly, and tries to piece together her thoughts. "You can change how people feel. That I can accept. You are just now not doing, that troubles me. How? Why .. would you do that?"

"Why would I change how people feel? Simple. To protect myself. I mirror the emotions around me. If you are sad, then I am sad. I can shield myself, after a fashion, but I still wind up mirroring the person that I am using as my shield. So, to protect myself, I have been changing emotions to better ease my own state of mind. Now I am no longer doing that, and it is hard." he explains.

"Then you have to feel what we feel, and if you do not change it, you are stuck now?" Marie-Ange's face drops into a grimace. "I do not know what is worse. Knowing you could change any of us, or knowing you are stuck feeling what we feel." She closes her eyes, hoping she isn't damning herself. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Manuel shrugs. "Just be you. Tell me when I violate whatever social customs exist in this place. Mostly, I need for you to not be afraid."

Marie-Ange smiles gently. "I can do that. The ones I know about, I can tell you. I can even promise not to yell at you like I do Shiro. That one, is unredeemable."

Manuel shakes his head. "I have to believe that no one is irredeemable."

"Just socially. He hates everything that is not from Japan, and does not care if he is rude. You do, I think." Marie-Ange shrugs. "I am sorry, Shiro just makes me mad."

Manuel grins. "I hadn't noticed." he deadpans. Then yawns. "I do not mean to be rude, but I find myself growing somewhat tired. Unless you'd like to put me to bed ..." he asks with a grin.

Marie-Ange smiles, although her cheeks go pink. "I think I'll leave that to Amanda." she says, without any malice, and stands. "I .. will see you in Speech class on Monday, so you and Shinobi can take more of my imaginary money?"

"Are you sure?" he says, turning up what remains of his natural charm. "You are, I see that. A pity. That makes twice in one day. Ah well. Good night, and I'd be delighted to take more of your money on Monday."

Marie-Ange nods, and heads for the door. "Sleep well." she says, closing the door quietly behind her.