Jean and Amanda - backdated to February
Feb. 2nd, 2021 03:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsNot long after the truth of the Dark Phoenix is revealed, Amanda and Jean talk about just why Amanda wouldn't let Jean sacrifice herself for Quentin.
Amanda knocked briskly at the door of Jean's suite at the time they'd arranged. It wasn't terribly difficult to guess what the redhead wanted to talk about - the 'memories' of their fake lives in Roma's universe were still fresh and there was the whole Frankenberry issue. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation, but it was a necessary one.
To say that Jean had been thinking about this meeting was an understatement, It had been in the back of her mind, shoved aside in a corner and replaced with other things. But it eventually grew relentlessly until it nagged at her. Running away wasn't the best way to achieve anything. So here she was, standing at the door to her suite, about to turn the knob to let Amanda in.
Drawing a breath, she did. "Hi," she said with a light smile, then motioned for her to come inside.
Her suite smelled like fresh rain, some new candle she'd bought after an aimless wander in Brooklyn. The suite took the traditional feel of the room with it's antique wainscotting and added a touch of eclectic pieces gathered from around the world from her time in X-Corps: a small carved wood sculpture of a painted gold bird from China, a cerulean woven wall piece from Africa, paired with a neutral comfortable couch dotted with pillows that brought pops of golds, blues, and greens. Her bed flanked the window, neatly made and also swimming with pillows.
"Can I make you some tea?" she said. She had created a small kitchenette within the space for days when she wanted to lock herself in her room after a long shift. It had an electric kettle, microwave, and fridge.
"Only if you use the kettle and not the microwave," Amanda replied with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. "But yeah, a cuppa would be great. It's always good to have something to occupy my hands when I do the serious talks, since I don't think you'd appreciate me smoking in your room."
Jean smirked. "Absolutely not," she said, grabbing the electric kettle to fill up with water. "You want something more caffeinated or calming?" She nodded to a small selection of tea boxes, both herbal and black tea. "I just got the honey vanilla chamomile at a tea shop in Soho that imports from the UK."
"Black will do - if I want caffeine, I usually go for coffee. Tea's soothing. Something to do with having it since I was a nipper." Amanda looked around the room, taking it in. "Nice place you have here."
Jean smiled, grabbing a box of Earl Grey to set out. She herself chose the honey vanilla chamomile. "Thanks," she said, taking a seat while they waited for the kettle to boil. "I used to collect a lot more when I was with X-Corps. I've been meaning to do a bit of a refresh."
"Do you miss it? The X-Corps work?" Amanda took a seat while Jean did the same.
Shrugging, Jean folded her arms. "Sometimes. Constantly moving around eventually took a toll, but the people I helped made it worth it. Here it's a different set of challenges, and rewards." She glanced over. "Have you ever thought of doing anything different? Other than X-Force?"
Amanda shrugged as well. "I thought about how I might have been able to go full time as a teacher here, work more with the magic kids, but to be honest I know I'm in the best place for me. The things I've done, things I've seen... I don't think I could ever really settle down to a 9-to-5." She smiled sadly. "And after losing almost all of my kids during M-Day, I don't think I have the heart to go through that again.”
Jean didn't reply at first, her fingers tightening a little around the arms of her chair at the term 'M-Day.' She ran through what to say in her mind. None of it felt right or seemed good enough.
Everyone she spoke to from that day had all told her it wasn't her and gave her absolution, but part of that guilt still reflexively lingered like a family member who's name was tarnished by association from the deeds of their kin. "That's understandable," she said finally when she found she was taking too long, relying on her bedside manner as a doctor toward the grieving ones left behind.
"They seem to look up to you, though. The magic kids. I think it's inevitable that the ducklings will follow someone who looks like them." She tilted her head. "Not that I'm saying you're a duck. But you know what I mean," she said with a smile.
"Quack," replied Amanda with a laugh, before she sobered. She hasn't missed the flash of tension in Jean at the mention of M-Day. You didn't work alongside an expert in reading body language, not to mention several career spies, without being able to catch the small signs which revealed how someone was reacting. "And as someone who just had to watch a whole 'Amanda goes full-on evil' picture show, I just wanted to make sure you understood - I don't blame you for what the Dark Phoenix did. Multiple dimensions... it's bloody weird, but you can't be held responsible for someone else's actions just because you have the same face."
"The evil Amanda Show wasn't real though. It was made just to cultivate your suffering. Dark Phoenix was real," Jean said, extending her arms out. "She broke reality into thousands of pieces. Even if she isn't me...I'm ashamed of what she did. I became a doctor to heal people. And she...killed them. I just...need time to adjust."
Letting out a breath, she glanced over. "Back with Shadow King...Is that why you wouldn't let him take me?"
Amanda nodded, understanding the need to let things go for now and allowing the slight diversion of the subject. "Yeah," she replied. "The thought of the Shadow King having access to that kind of potential power... I couldn't let it happen. Sorry."
Jean fell silent for a moment or two. The sudden shriek of the kettle made her jump slightly, and she rose from her chair, walking over to take it off the boiler. Steam rose from their mugs after she poured the water in.
Picking up a tray, she brought it over, but left her mug as she sat back down. "I don't know what to say," she admitted. "I get it. This is just a lot."
"They certainly didn't cover this in my sociology class, that's for sure," Amanda replied wryly. "But at least now it's out in the open. And it sounds strange coming from a spy, but some things shouldn't be left to fester. I hated having to lie to you back then, but I'm glad you know now."
"To be honest I thought a lot of you just didn't like outsiders," Jean said with a faint laugh. "Little did I know."
"It wasn't really the obvious reason," the witch agreed. "Multiple dimensions, end of the world,... not exactly Occam's Razor material."
"At this point it makes sense. There's never really a simple explanation here," Jean said, taking a sip of her tea.
"After living here for a bit I tend to go big or go home when it comes to trying to figure out the cause of something. Nothing's too outlandish."
Amanda knocked briskly at the door of Jean's suite at the time they'd arranged. It wasn't terribly difficult to guess what the redhead wanted to talk about - the 'memories' of their fake lives in Roma's universe were still fresh and there was the whole Frankenberry issue. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation, but it was a necessary one.
To say that Jean had been thinking about this meeting was an understatement, It had been in the back of her mind, shoved aside in a corner and replaced with other things. But it eventually grew relentlessly until it nagged at her. Running away wasn't the best way to achieve anything. So here she was, standing at the door to her suite, about to turn the knob to let Amanda in.
Drawing a breath, she did. "Hi," she said with a light smile, then motioned for her to come inside.
Her suite smelled like fresh rain, some new candle she'd bought after an aimless wander in Brooklyn. The suite took the traditional feel of the room with it's antique wainscotting and added a touch of eclectic pieces gathered from around the world from her time in X-Corps: a small carved wood sculpture of a painted gold bird from China, a cerulean woven wall piece from Africa, paired with a neutral comfortable couch dotted with pillows that brought pops of golds, blues, and greens. Her bed flanked the window, neatly made and also swimming with pillows.
"Can I make you some tea?" she said. She had created a small kitchenette within the space for days when she wanted to lock herself in her room after a long shift. It had an electric kettle, microwave, and fridge.
"Only if you use the kettle and not the microwave," Amanda replied with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. "But yeah, a cuppa would be great. It's always good to have something to occupy my hands when I do the serious talks, since I don't think you'd appreciate me smoking in your room."
Jean smirked. "Absolutely not," she said, grabbing the electric kettle to fill up with water. "You want something more caffeinated or calming?" She nodded to a small selection of tea boxes, both herbal and black tea. "I just got the honey vanilla chamomile at a tea shop in Soho that imports from the UK."
"Black will do - if I want caffeine, I usually go for coffee. Tea's soothing. Something to do with having it since I was a nipper." Amanda looked around the room, taking it in. "Nice place you have here."
Jean smiled, grabbing a box of Earl Grey to set out. She herself chose the honey vanilla chamomile. "Thanks," she said, taking a seat while they waited for the kettle to boil. "I used to collect a lot more when I was with X-Corps. I've been meaning to do a bit of a refresh."
"Do you miss it? The X-Corps work?" Amanda took a seat while Jean did the same.
Shrugging, Jean folded her arms. "Sometimes. Constantly moving around eventually took a toll, but the people I helped made it worth it. Here it's a different set of challenges, and rewards." She glanced over. "Have you ever thought of doing anything different? Other than X-Force?"
Amanda shrugged as well. "I thought about how I might have been able to go full time as a teacher here, work more with the magic kids, but to be honest I know I'm in the best place for me. The things I've done, things I've seen... I don't think I could ever really settle down to a 9-to-5." She smiled sadly. "And after losing almost all of my kids during M-Day, I don't think I have the heart to go through that again.”
Jean didn't reply at first, her fingers tightening a little around the arms of her chair at the term 'M-Day.' She ran through what to say in her mind. None of it felt right or seemed good enough.
Everyone she spoke to from that day had all told her it wasn't her and gave her absolution, but part of that guilt still reflexively lingered like a family member who's name was tarnished by association from the deeds of their kin. "That's understandable," she said finally when she found she was taking too long, relying on her bedside manner as a doctor toward the grieving ones left behind.
"They seem to look up to you, though. The magic kids. I think it's inevitable that the ducklings will follow someone who looks like them." She tilted her head. "Not that I'm saying you're a duck. But you know what I mean," she said with a smile.
"Quack," replied Amanda with a laugh, before she sobered. She hasn't missed the flash of tension in Jean at the mention of M-Day. You didn't work alongside an expert in reading body language, not to mention several career spies, without being able to catch the small signs which revealed how someone was reacting. "And as someone who just had to watch a whole 'Amanda goes full-on evil' picture show, I just wanted to make sure you understood - I don't blame you for what the Dark Phoenix did. Multiple dimensions... it's bloody weird, but you can't be held responsible for someone else's actions just because you have the same face."
"The evil Amanda Show wasn't real though. It was made just to cultivate your suffering. Dark Phoenix was real," Jean said, extending her arms out. "She broke reality into thousands of pieces. Even if she isn't me...I'm ashamed of what she did. I became a doctor to heal people. And she...killed them. I just...need time to adjust."
Letting out a breath, she glanced over. "Back with Shadow King...Is that why you wouldn't let him take me?"
Amanda nodded, understanding the need to let things go for now and allowing the slight diversion of the subject. "Yeah," she replied. "The thought of the Shadow King having access to that kind of potential power... I couldn't let it happen. Sorry."
Jean fell silent for a moment or two. The sudden shriek of the kettle made her jump slightly, and she rose from her chair, walking over to take it off the boiler. Steam rose from their mugs after she poured the water in.
Picking up a tray, she brought it over, but left her mug as she sat back down. "I don't know what to say," she admitted. "I get it. This is just a lot."
"They certainly didn't cover this in my sociology class, that's for sure," Amanda replied wryly. "But at least now it's out in the open. And it sounds strange coming from a spy, but some things shouldn't be left to fester. I hated having to lie to you back then, but I'm glad you know now."
"To be honest I thought a lot of you just didn't like outsiders," Jean said with a faint laugh. "Little did I know."
"It wasn't really the obvious reason," the witch agreed. "Multiple dimensions, end of the world,... not exactly Occam's Razor material."
"At this point it makes sense. There's never really a simple explanation here," Jean said, taking a sip of her tea.
"After living here for a bit I tend to go big or go home when it comes to trying to figure out the cause of something. Nothing's too outlandish."
