Log: Jubilee and Changling

[x-jubilee.livejournal.com]

Backdated to Feb 27th 2015



So, like, do you have some sort of endless suit machine or something? Cause dude, your dry-cleaning bill most be horrendous with all the suits you wear."

Jubilee hadn't had much of a chance to get to know the frankenberrycat people - considering she'd been out of the country for about the same amount of time they'd been members of the team. She figured 'getting to know you' was a good idea if she needed to trust her life, or the lives of people she cared about to their tender mercies.

Kevin tipped a healthy measure of bourbon into his coffee and took a taste before answering.

"Wearing a suit every day is the most efficient form of dress one can have. A properly tailored suit is durable, attractive and can be worn for days in a row without looking rumpled with proper attention. In these days, it also imparts the idea of respectability, authority and command. Finally, while most won't admit it, if you throw up flash cards of a guy in a suit and one in jeans and a 'fuck you' t-shirt, most women are most likely to lose their panties to the suit wearing man, even if he is less attractive."

Jubilee's eyebrows raised at that last tidbit, she hadn't heard the term 'panties' in a good long while and most of that usage had been on Japanese vending machines in weird parts of Tokyo. The whole situation was weird to her, especially considering the people they'd just lost. Sure, Gar's dad had been all with the recommendations but wow, so very different then what she'd been expecting.

"So, like, what exactly is it you're good at? Just so, you know, we're on the same page and all."

"Well, drinking for one. Wearing a suit really well for two. That tends to get me past most things." He said dryly, taking a deep swallow of his laced coffee.

"That must be nice for you. You spend a lot of time in under-ground Antarctic lairs getting pawed at by robotic women as well?" Jubilee asked, amused now. MA and Mandy wouldn't have hired this guy or his companion if they didn't have some usefulness to them. As replacements for Remy and Ororo though, she had to say, she wasn't the least bit impressed. "Just so you know, casual Tuesdays you get to wear boating shoes and a sweater vest."

"Don't be ridiculous. I've never worn a sweater vest in my life." He said, expression unchanging. "So what is it exactly you are good at, Jubilee? Other than being named properly."

"We don't specialize much, too few people and too damn much to do," Jubilee noted, flicking imaginary lint off her knee as she sat across from him. Her back was to the majority of the bar so that she'd have a good view of the front door but she still had enough awareness of the noise around her if anything started going on behind her. "Mostly I'm good at retrieving items of value, and making a spectacle of myself in showy ways when required, or not at all when it's not. Basically, I'm Batman."

"I hope not. Batman is about the least effective operative you could imagine." He stashed the flask and instead waved for new drinks. It was noon after all. "What I look for is someone who has the ability to simply be. Those people never drew interest. They walk into a place, they walk out with what they need, and no-one remembers them ten minutes after they leave."

"Joking, dude. I am nowhere near rich enough to be Batman, although I totes have the dead parents. So, you know, that was fun, not," Jubilee sighed and straightened from her slouch, giving Kevin a look that was one part assessing, two parts uncertainty. "The people who trained me, they weren't the types who let people just fuck around pretending to be good at their jobs. I may not be the most professional looking or even speaking person in the world when I'm off duty, but when it comes to a job, you won't find anyone more business then me. Just don't expect me not to mouth off from time to time when it's not important that I stay shut up."

"Based on that little speech, I can tell you aren't sure whether or not you are business enough or that you don't mouth off at the wrong time. The tells are obvious." He accepted a drink from the waitress and took a healthy sip. "So you tell me. Who died before you could really impress them to the point that you finally believed it?"

If she'd been a few years younger, she might have hauled off and punched him in the face at that moment but she wasn't, and so she didn't. It didn't stop the flash of pain across her face, or the feeling of rushing blood in her ears at the desire to do so though. It wasn't that he was right or wrong, she knew she had some issues when it came to believing she was good enough. She'd always assumed Remy would be there to get her out of any major fuck ups. Now that he wasn't here, now that people were really counting on her to do her job. The chance of fucking up at all was a nightmare that woke her shivering in the night on an almost nightly basis. Even Kurt had asked her recently if everything was alright, and he'd been there to deal with the normal nightmares for a long time now.

"You often try to piss off the people you're working with?"

"Consistently. Although sometimes it's about sex." He put down his drink. "I don't know you, Jubilee, but you carry your emotions on your face. Think about how easily I got to you. Now think about it from a rival group or agent. I might be a dick. Actually, I am a dick. Funnily enough, I'm all kinds of dicks depending on the girl. But I don't do this because I like watching people cry into their drinks. I do it because it's a way to understand vulnerability. Did the guy I'm talking about seem vulnerable?"

"Not in the ways you mean, no." Jubilee admitted, her lips ticking upwards in a smile almost despite herself. She really did need to get her shit together, he wasn't wrong about the emotional story she was telling. "But he was human, not some God. He wasn't always nice but he gave a shit. He cared about all of us, even though he'd have let any of us die if it was needed. He was big on this not being the kind of job you grow old in."

"Sounds like he understood the life. It also sounds like he was your safety net and now he's gone." He drowned his drink and waved for another. "Which means, what the hell are you going to do about that?"

"What I'm already doing, building new contacts, trying to make sure I don't fuck up - trying to be the operative he believed I was."

Jubilee took a drink and looked into the brilliantly colored liquid for a moment before giving Kevin another assessing look.

"Trying to learn everything he couldn't teach me without screwing everyone here over. Don't get me wrong, we're good at what we do, he trained us well. He had a lot of history at this job that I just don't, that a lot of us don't. Years that I can't fake, and so I just gotta do what I can. But hey, that's why you got hired, dude. We need help."

"Let's not worry about who hired whom." He sat back, peering over the end of his drink. "I'll give you at little free advice. Stop giving up so much. Even to people you think are allies. I could pick you apart and flip you before breakfast right now. Part of surviving in this field is wearing different faces for everyone. Not as literal as I do, but it is important."

"Good advice," Jubilee murmured, taking another drink. She didn't have any come back - and he wasn't wrong, she'd gotten to used to working with friends, or people she knew well. "You think we can work together?"

"I can work with anyone. The question is whether or not you'll survive it." He said, and reached over to take her fruity drink, which he drained in one gulp. "And unless you're looking to fuck someone in here, you need a better drink. Stick with a gin and tonic. It suggests that you're not seventeen and not likely to proposition anyone with 'hey soldier boy' any time soon."

"Gin tastes like shit, at least get me a good scotch." Jubilee replied, tone and face impassive at his last comment. She'd heard worse about her fondness for bright colored things.

"Second tip; unless you know what a good scotch is, stick to a decent one. People who order good scotch are remembered by bartenders. People who order the bar rail with a bit too much ice aren't."