xp_logs | Jean-Paul and Everett

xp-northstar.livejournal.com posting in

Jean-Paul finds Everett in the gym and decides to ask him about helping with some powers training. He gets some unexpected news in return.

Jean-Paul had seen the message on the journal weeks ago, but he hadn't actually bothered to follow up on it. He'd been making progress with his mutant abilities -- slow progress, but it still counted. Having arrived in the gym to begin his regular workout, however, only to find it occupied by none other than the man who'd offered assistance with powers training... Jean-Paul was nothing if not an opportunist.

Also, the view was quite possibly the most aesthetically pleasing that he'd seen here at the mansion. "Bonjour," he murmured, not entirely sure he'd spoken loudly enough to be heard and not particularly caring.

Perhaps to his good fortune, the super spy who was finishing up his final lat pulldown set did not need to hear anything to know he was not alone anymore. He recognized the telltale aura of a speedster immediately. How could he not, having spent so many years with one on his team?

He gently set the weights down, then got up, stretched, and turned to face the newcomer. "Bonjour, comment allez-vous?" he answered in impeccable Parisian French.

"Je fais très bien, merci," Jean-Paul replied, arching an eyebrow at the accent. He'd poshed his up a bit in response, though it irritated him when he realized he'd done it. "Et toi?"

"We're rapidly approaching the extent of my French," said Ev, his broad shoulders shaking with restrained laughter. He wiped the sweat from his hands with his towel before offering one to Jean-Paul. "Everett."

"Jean-Paul," the Quebecois responded, reaching out to shake the proffered hand. "It is nice to meet you." He offered a half-smile, then asked, "You put a journal post up, several weeks past, oui? Saying you would help with powers training?"

Ev nodded, opening his metaphorical third eye to more closely examine the young man's blue and white aura. "I did," he affirmed. "Offer is still open, if you're looking for it."

"It would be nice to have other input," Jean-Paul said, nodding. "I have made progress with flying while here, but there is no one anymore that I would like to speak with who flies without wings. I think," he said, qualifying his statement. He wasn't the most outgoing person here, so far as making social connections was concerned. He might have missed a new -- or old -- mansionite who could theoretically have assisted him if he'd asked.

There were a few whom Ev had discovered or heard about, but all fliers were different, and someone who rocketed themselves through the air on microwaves or could telekinetically levitate themselves was not going to be of much assistance to self-propelled flight. "We can figure out something. The speed might be an issue, though. We'll have to move slowly so we don't accidentally get out of range and I plummet from the sky." At least not without someone durable around so he would survive the crash.

Frowning, Jean-Paul cocked his head to the side and questioned, "Speed? I have no speed." Or -- he didn't think -- but. But if he did.

Uh oh. He knew that expression, both from mutants who had not yet learned the full extent of their powers and from people who did not even know they were mutants. At least Jean-Paul did not fit that second category. Still, people could take that news very differently, and judging by Jean-Paul's reaction, it had potential to not be pleasant.

"You do," Ev assured him. "I had a speedster friend for a long time so you can trust me when I say I recognize that ability when I see it. Or sense it, I suppose."

Mind racing, Jean-Paul held his hand up for a moment to request quiet while he tried to sort through that revelation. Finally, he asked, "Is this -- can you know if this is new?"

Ev held his tongue and gave Jean-Paul his space. The question was not unexpected, and it was becoming increasingly clear that something personally significant to Jean-Paul was now called into question, and Ev could not help but feel a sharp pang of guilt.

"I can't tell you that, no," he answered somewhat regretfully. "Only that it is part of your currently manifested powerset."

Expression tightening into a deeper frown, Jean-Paul raised his hand again. This time, he palmed his forehead and then inhaled slowly. After shrugging his shoulders into a tense stretch, he exhaled and said, "Thank you. If we could perhaps see to the flying only." He paused, grimaced, and then changed his mind. "No, it is better to know, oui? Is there very much you can tell me of the speed?"

"Jean-Paul." Ev spoke his name with only mild paternalism, wearing an expression like he had just accidentally knocked down a small child. "No, I can't say anything about it besides 'whoa fast' without actually synching with you and trying it out. But it's fine if you want to postpone this for a while. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drop something so heavy on you. I assumed you knew . . ."

"Bah," Jean-Paul said, abruptly shaking his head. "I did not, as you can see. But this is not your fault." He snorted, the sound conveying only a fraction of what he was actually feeling, before continuing, "It is biology, oui? I would still like to learn, but you are right about postponing, I think." His jaw actually ached a bit because of how tightly he'd clenched it.

Ev idly scratched his chest, not because he felt an itch but because he needed something to do with his hands besides hang there awkwardly. "Whenever you're ready, I'm not going anywhere. Or if you just want to talk. Not really my place, I know, but it's the least I can do." For apparently calling his whole life into question.

"Merci," Jean-Paul said, giving the older man a nod. His plan for the day thoroughly ruined -- not just the recent attempt at better mastering his powers, but also everything he'd intended to do in the gym, the Quebecois turned and exited the room. He had no idea what he was going to do now, but surely Kitty wouldn't mind if he ate all the ice cream in the freezer. He'd replace it, obviously. Eventually.

The doors swung shut behind him, and Ev waited until he was sure the other man was gone before letting out a heavy sigh. A stray thought wandered into his mind, and he took out his phone to check the mansion directory for Jean-Paul's full name and then Googled it. The hits that came up on his screen answered everything. He smacked his forehead with his palm.

It wasn't every day you discovered evidence a multi-Olympic gold winner had cheated his whole career.