Log: Jubilee and Jean-Phillipe

[x-jubilee.livejournal.com]

Jean-Phillipe and Jubilee meet up as each are headed for the mansion kitchen, they have an interesting discussion about food.




Jubilee rambled idly down the hallway of Xavier's, headed toward the kitchen and what was hopefully a stock of ready made food after the workout she'd just given herself. While the Danger gym in their place in New York was fine for sparring and the general day to day practice their profession needed, she would regularly head to Xaviers' on a weekend, when she wasn't doing something else, and use the gymnastic equipment. Of course, she now also had the excuse in that Kurt lived here, and visiting her boyfriend tended to be a great stress reliever after a week of work.

"Hey JP," she said, noticing Marie-Ange's younger cousin seemingly headed in the same direction she was, albeit from a different angle. "Got the munchies?"


"Eh, bonjour, Jubilation," the Frenchman greeted his cousin's coworker. "You might say that." Jean-Phillipe tended to eat fairly regularly throughout the day to keep his energy levels up, and that was before taking into account heavy activity in the Danger Room. "The curse of being an energy projector," he said in a mock grumble. "Always hungry."


"Pockets, and like, hidden stashes," Jubilee noted sagely, pulling a vacuum sealed pouch from a pocket of her cargo pants and offering it to him. "Blueberry?"

"Merci." Jean-Phillipe rarely turned down food unless it was something extremely strange or unpleasant-smelling. And given the large number of different cultures around the mansion, it was fairly difficult to faze him in terms of food offerings. He took a handful and tossed them up one at a time, catching them in his mouth. "And how goes it with you?"

"Well, I haven't been shot at any time recently, and my boyfriend hasn't had some sort of traumatic experience so I figure we're batting a hundred right now, you?"

"I cannot complain either. Quite enjoying my own boyfriend, work seems to be going well..." Jean-Phillipe shook his head in amusement. He was getting positively domestic in his 'old age'. His younger, brasher, more confrontational self would be indignant if it could see how settled and happy he was now.

"So, what do you think they've stuffed into the fridge today?" Jubilee wondered idly as they reached the kitchen, nodding her head toward the refrigerator. "Last week it was some of that carnivore soup stuff - which yeah, okay, full of protein but so not my dish."

"More for me, then," Jean-Phillipe said with a smirk. "We all know how much I enjoy...meat." His eyes twinkled as he rummaged around in the refrigerator. "Speaking of which..." He pulled out several different packages of sliced meat and reached over toward the breadbox. "I think I shall have a sandwich. If you're wanting more fruit, I believe I saw a fruit salad of some sort in the back."

"Result!" Jubilee replied, and held her hand out in a gimmie gesture. "There can never be enough fruit, or really, anything food related in life."

Jean-Phillipe nodded as he built himself a hefty sandwich, layering meat, cheese, and condiments between thick slices of bread. "As long as it is delicious and not one of those disgusting things Anthony Bourdain samples on his trips around the world." The Food Network was one of Jean-Phillipe's favored channels to watch when nothing else was on, and he much preferred Bourdain's globetrotting to some of the more overly American celebrations of overeating.

"Don't knock foreign food till you've tried it, dude," Jubilee noted, having been in several situations in foreign places where she had to play tourist or foreign business type in order to pass, it always seemed to involve weird food, but she'd not complained yet. "Although, I gotta say chicken fetus is an acquired taste."

"There is food, and then there are abominations that no person should eat." And a decent percentage of the things highlighted on shows like Bourdain's tended to fall into the first category, those of the sort of things one ate only on the most drunken of dares. Jean-Phillipe shook his head. "I do not want to know where you had occasion to try that, and no interest in acquiring that taste, merci."

"The Philippines," Jubilee replied, chowing down on the fruit salad with relish. "And it's actually called 'Balut' there, mostly they serve it with Garlic, chilli and vinegar. It's mostly street food though, so I doubt you'll be offered any if you're at a fancy hotel or something."

"Were you not paying attention when I said I did not want to know where you tried that, Jubilee?" Some family resemblances came very clear at times, and the exasperated tone could just as easily have come from Marie-Ange as Jean-Phillipe. Good-natured, to be sure, but still exasperated.

"Pft, you say that now, but don't blame me when you end up in the Phillippines and you order Bulat and end up eating chicken fetus without knowing it." Jubilee noted, taking another bite of fruit. "Don't give me that look, it could like, totes happen."

"I am educated enough on food to not let that happen." And he was also willing to ask questions before putting something in his mouth. Jean-Phillipe rolled his eyes at Jubilee and took a large bite of his sandwich.

"Dude, gotta say, put you in a dress and a red wig and you would so pass as Marie-Ange right now." Jubilee replied with a mocking grin. "I take about as much notice of the eye rolling from her too."

"Well, some things just come naturally in family traits," Jean-Phillipe observed with a smile. He and his cousin were much closer these days than they had been in the past. "In our case, it is biting sarcasm."

"Sarcasm, maybe. Don't know about the biting, I'd figure you'd have to ask your audience about that one."

Jubilee had become fond of Marie-Ange over the years, when the she and her redheaded team mate weren't driving each other around the bend. She was also well aware of her own irritating habits. Still, she enjoyed a certain degree of good natured mockery, as long as it was kept above the belt.

Jean-Phillipe raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "I think that asking one's audience to rate the sarcasm might defeat the purpose."