Log: Matt & Jean-Phillipe

[x-daredevil.livejournal.com]

Backdated to July 3, Matt goes to the beach and runs into Jean-Phillipe on his way there. JP manages to completely offend Matt and he likes Yvette better.



Matt had gotten a migraine a couple days before they were scheduled to leave for the Hamptons, but he was determined to go regardless and he was feeling better. Not great, but better. The worst of it had passed. Now that they were there, Matt had swim trunks on and was slowly and carefully molding the ear plugs into his ears so that it would help to block some of the noises from his powers. With the migraine, that was needed.

Carefully, barefoot and chested, he headed downstairs to go to the beach, cane arcing in front of him and tapping against the floorboards along the wall as he found the path. He had no idea where it was, but he could get directions. He had never been to a beach and he wanted to go. Now.

It was a measure of Jean-Phillipe's level of relaxation (and he had been told more or less firmly that he -would- relax and not be a rain cloud of doom) that he was wearing a loose short-sleeved shirt and what would might have best been described as capris - loose-fitting cotton pants that came to about his mid-calf. He was sitting on the back porch, partly in the sun, where he could keep an idle eye on any of the students that went down to the beach, and a paperback novel to read. He looked up as he saw Matt coming down, and cleared his throat politely to gain the young man's attention. "Bonjour, Matthew," he said, the name coming out in the more French pronunciation. "Comment ca va? How are you doing?"

Even with the earplugs, Matt had heard Jean-Philipe's heartbeat as he approached so it wasn't completely a surprise that he was there, "Hi," he paused, "I'm okay. Where's the beach?" he was single-minded in his determination to go there. Now. "Are you going there?"

Jean-Phillipe knew that Matt's hearing apparently bordered on the preternatural. Possibly even more so than Kyle's. The throat-clearing had more or less been in the name of politeness, giving the student a reason to acknowledge his presence. "Perhaps later," he demurred. "I have a novel here. Besides, I have a terrible complexion for too much sun, and the water is perhaps not the best place for an electrogenetic to be, non?"

It took Matt a moment or two to parse what he was saying since the accent was unfamiliar. Plus, electrogenetic was not really something he was familiar with, "Well....then which way is it?" Matt asked him, hoping he knew. "That's where I'm going," he had a book too actually, a new one on CD, but it was up with his stuff. He just wanted to explore the beach.

"You are headed in the right direction," Jean-Phillipe told him. "Down the walkway here, and a few stairs at the end." He made a thoughtful noise. "Do you require sunscreen?" He'd brought out a bottle with him, as part of his attempt to be a responsible resident advisor. He wasn't about to go slathering it on unwilling students like a busybody mother, but it was there if they had forgotten.

Sunscreen? That made Matt pause. "I dunno?" he replied, not entirely sure. Did he need it? "Do I?" What was the point of it anyways? Well, he knew it would make his skin not burn in the sun, but he had just burned as a kid and kept playing, it hadn't bothered him all that much. Was the beach different? Was a sunburn worse there?

"I am not your mother," Jean-Phillipe noted. "I simply offered some, as I brought a bottle here in case someone needed it." If Matt wanted to sunburn and deal with peeling and itching, that was his own business.

"You and a lot of other people, but if you find her, lemme know. I got a few questions for her," Matt replied. He had no idea who his mother was. He'd been raised by his father who had never spoken of his mother other than to say that she was a good woman, whatever that meant. He'd never married though and Matt didn't even know her name. "Fine, gimme," he held out his hand.

"Catch," Jean-Phillipe said in reply, tossing the bottle slow and underhand, curious as to how Matt would handle it.

That Jean-Phillipe gave a signal that something was being thrown was helpful. Not helpful enough for Matt to catch it, but he made an effort, fingers getting nothing but air as the bottle landed with a splat at his feet. "Real funny," he commented. Even with his glasses on and without actually rolling his eyes, the statement was clearly accompanied by one. "I got a ball if you want to play catch," he added. It had a bell in it he could hear. "but otherwise, you're sort of wasting your time."

"I was curious," Jean-Phillipe admitted. "I apologize if I offended or made you feel..." He cleared his throat, not entirely sure how to properly apologize. "My curiosity about others' powers sometimes gets the better of me. And I am no good with the sciences like Docteurs McCoy or Grey-Summers. Otherwise I might have...thought better of the idea."

Bending down, Matt found the bottle easily enough. The noise it had made when it hit the ground was enough for him to find it, Standing, he crossed his arms over his chest, "You wanted to know if I'd hear it," Matt replied flatly. He was less than impressed. "Firstly, I'm just learning about that part of my powers, secondly, you have no idea how well I can catch regardless and thirdly, I'm wearing earplugs because I've had a migraine the past couple days. It's gone, but I want it to stay gone and this place isn't sound-proofed like my room and all that," his tone clearly indicated that Jean-Phillipe had been judged and found sorely lacking as an RA in particular and a person in general.

"I am sorry." The words did not come easily, and certainly when it was without any qualifier, but it was also clear that Jean-Phillipe was honest. "If there is something I might do to make it up to you, or to help you in learning about your powers, would you let me know?"

Nodding shortly in acceptance, Matt opened the bottle of sunscreen, beginning to slather it on himself. It was white and splotchy on his already pale skin as he didn't rub it in enough in places, but it was at least something. "I'm good," he answered. He had directions to the beach and now he apparently was not going to sunburn either, even if the sunblock smelled gross. It was too sickly sweet.

"Enjoy yourself," Jean-Phillipe said, already turning his attention back to his book.