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xp_logsJean-Phillipe takes Xavin out for the afternoon.
The hood of Xavin's hoody was pushed back and the kid was sitting crosslegged on a bench seat in a burger place at the mall, idly poking an onion ring with one finger, a bag of curly fries, peanut butter milkshake and half eaten cheeseburger on the table. "I'm glad it's stopped being so cold here, man."
If someone found out he was treating the newest resident of the mansion to lunch and clothes shopping, Jean-Phillipe's prickly and abrasive reputation was probably ruined for good. Ah well. He had very strong opinions about parents who drove their child to homelessness. Most of those thoughts involved having Scott remind him just -why- he couldn't go around electrocuting those sort of parents.
He wasn't the fashionista his cousin was, but he knew that Xavin needed something to replace the hoody and jeans that they'd arrived in. "It is New York," Jean-Phillipe said with a chuckle. "Los Angeles does not really prepare you for places with seasons." Or so he was reliably told by various mansion dwellers from that area.
"Hey! We have seasons!" The response was automatic and indignant. Xavin drank the last of the milkshake and left the fries. "So, now what?" Xavin asked, already feeling resigned. This always went the same way before - they'd both wander around, there'd be an argument about which stores they'd go to, everything would have to be tried on and it would suck. Somehow, knowing that the mansion was planning on supplementing the small backpack of clothes Xavin had arrived with didn't help much. "I guess we have to start at Hot Topic or something, right?" The lack of enthusiasm was clearly audible.
"Dieu, non." Jean-Phillipe shuddered. "Unless you very much want to. Hot Topic is for boring teenagers who think that purchasing a shirt from a band that they have never heard of makes them relevant."
"Hey! I learned about a whole lot of bands after googling them at Hot Topic. The ... Clash, The Doors... It's like, every old timey white guy bad has to start with their name with a 'the'. But, seriously, you don't care where we're going? Like, at all?" Xavin dipped a curly fry into the milk shake and ate it.
Jean-Phillipe managed to school his expression from saying that this was exactly what he meant about teenagers and Hot Topic. Of course, his cousin would have some arch words about his own taste when -he- was a teenager, but that was neither here nor there. "It is much more important to me that you feel comfortable with what you are wearing."
"Huh." Xavin ate another milkshake-dipped fry. "So.... you're like, French or something, right?"
Jean-Phillipe chuckled. "'Or something', oui." He had polished away his own extremely large burger already, but he was eating a few french fries companionably with Xavin. "I cannot imagine what gave it away," he continued dryly.
Xavin gave a faint smile. "I don't know.... It was the vibe. You have a very French vibe."
An airy dismissive hand wave came from the other side of the table. "I am sure it could have nothing to do with the fact that I speak a mixture of French and English. In any event, why do you ask?"
"I was just trying to make conversation, alright? Geeze."
"Desolee, I was not sure if it was conversational or if you had some other question in mind. No harm done." Jean-Phillipe liked the young mutant - they reminded him a bit of himself, all hardened armor to deal with a harsh world.
"I have to ask - what else could I have had in mind?" Xavin asked, restless and on edge, still trying to not think about the whole 'shopping' thing that was coming.
"Oh, any number of things, I should think." Jean-Phillipe shrugged. "How to say something in French. If a particular rumor you heard about Frenchmen was true." He smirked. "What we call all those things you Americans refer to as 'French' - fries, toast...kissing..."
"Oh my god, that is so wrong. You're like 30!" Xavin held up one hand between them and looked away. "Oh my god."
"I know it is shocking, but old people kiss too. They even have sex." Jean-Phillipe enjoyed Xavin's scandalized expression. He thought about bringing up Erik, but he supposed that might shatter the poor teenager.
"I don't want to know. This is child abuse or something."
Ah, melodrama. "Emphasis on 'or something'. It may be unpalatable, but that is a very different thing from child abuse." Jean-Phillipe had seen enough young mutants come from horrible circumstances that it wasn't a subject he was inclined to joke about.
"Fine. It is way too TMI," Xavin replied.
"That I will not argue with. But as they say, deal with it." Jean-Phillipe pitched the empty fry container into the trash. "Ready to go create a wardrobe?"
"I guess."
The hood of Xavin's hoody was pushed back and the kid was sitting crosslegged on a bench seat in a burger place at the mall, idly poking an onion ring with one finger, a bag of curly fries, peanut butter milkshake and half eaten cheeseburger on the table. "I'm glad it's stopped being so cold here, man."
If someone found out he was treating the newest resident of the mansion to lunch and clothes shopping, Jean-Phillipe's prickly and abrasive reputation was probably ruined for good. Ah well. He had very strong opinions about parents who drove their child to homelessness. Most of those thoughts involved having Scott remind him just -why- he couldn't go around electrocuting those sort of parents.
He wasn't the fashionista his cousin was, but he knew that Xavin needed something to replace the hoody and jeans that they'd arrived in. "It is New York," Jean-Phillipe said with a chuckle. "Los Angeles does not really prepare you for places with seasons." Or so he was reliably told by various mansion dwellers from that area.
"Hey! We have seasons!" The response was automatic and indignant. Xavin drank the last of the milkshake and left the fries. "So, now what?" Xavin asked, already feeling resigned. This always went the same way before - they'd both wander around, there'd be an argument about which stores they'd go to, everything would have to be tried on and it would suck. Somehow, knowing that the mansion was planning on supplementing the small backpack of clothes Xavin had arrived with didn't help much. "I guess we have to start at Hot Topic or something, right?" The lack of enthusiasm was clearly audible.
"Dieu, non." Jean-Phillipe shuddered. "Unless you very much want to. Hot Topic is for boring teenagers who think that purchasing a shirt from a band that they have never heard of makes them relevant."
"Hey! I learned about a whole lot of bands after googling them at Hot Topic. The ... Clash, The Doors... It's like, every old timey white guy bad has to start with their name with a 'the'. But, seriously, you don't care where we're going? Like, at all?" Xavin dipped a curly fry into the milk shake and ate it.
Jean-Phillipe managed to school his expression from saying that this was exactly what he meant about teenagers and Hot Topic. Of course, his cousin would have some arch words about his own taste when -he- was a teenager, but that was neither here nor there. "It is much more important to me that you feel comfortable with what you are wearing."
"Huh." Xavin ate another milkshake-dipped fry. "So.... you're like, French or something, right?"
Jean-Phillipe chuckled. "'Or something', oui." He had polished away his own extremely large burger already, but he was eating a few french fries companionably with Xavin. "I cannot imagine what gave it away," he continued dryly.
Xavin gave a faint smile. "I don't know.... It was the vibe. You have a very French vibe."
An airy dismissive hand wave came from the other side of the table. "I am sure it could have nothing to do with the fact that I speak a mixture of French and English. In any event, why do you ask?"
"I was just trying to make conversation, alright? Geeze."
"Desolee, I was not sure if it was conversational or if you had some other question in mind. No harm done." Jean-Phillipe liked the young mutant - they reminded him a bit of himself, all hardened armor to deal with a harsh world.
"I have to ask - what else could I have had in mind?" Xavin asked, restless and on edge, still trying to not think about the whole 'shopping' thing that was coming.
"Oh, any number of things, I should think." Jean-Phillipe shrugged. "How to say something in French. If a particular rumor you heard about Frenchmen was true." He smirked. "What we call all those things you Americans refer to as 'French' - fries, toast...kissing..."
"Oh my god, that is so wrong. You're like 30!" Xavin held up one hand between them and looked away. "Oh my god."
"I know it is shocking, but old people kiss too. They even have sex." Jean-Phillipe enjoyed Xavin's scandalized expression. He thought about bringing up Erik, but he supposed that might shatter the poor teenager.
"I don't want to know. This is child abuse or something."
Ah, melodrama. "Emphasis on 'or something'. It may be unpalatable, but that is a very different thing from child abuse." Jean-Phillipe had seen enough young mutants come from horrible circumstances that it wasn't a subject he was inclined to joke about.
"Fine. It is way too TMI," Xavin replied.
"That I will not argue with. But as they say, deal with it." Jean-Phillipe pitched the empty fry container into the trash. "Ready to go create a wardrobe?"
"I guess."
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