2013.10.18 - Judging Books By Their Cover

Jeanne Foucault is sitting at the Grindstone Cafe, out of the city there's less of a chance anyone might recognize her as a former member of the Olympic Gymnastics team, and she likes the increasing chance for being left to her own devices. There's a cup of peach iced tea next to her laptop, which her finger currently dance across in a torrid pace of typing. She almost seems zoned into the computer, as if she couldn't care any less about who else might be present.
Sometimes it's simply too much to be at the academy. Sure, Laurie has friends there -- friends she loves a great deal -- but there are so many people, and she's always nervous that she's going to lose control. When this happens she often wanders home -- her mom lives right here in town. But mom's at a conference this weekend, and while she doesn't want to be around lots of people, she doesn't want to be completely alone, either.
Laurie's kind of a complicated girl.
So she heads for the Grindstone. She's pretty sure that Sofia's not at work this evening, but the proprietress knows her and will let her sit in the corner and sip a mug of white hot chocolate for a long time. That will calm her down. She retrieves her drink with a shy smile offered to Luna, and then heads for her corner table. Her eyes pass briefly over Jeanne -- just about her own age, pretty, but not an Xavier's student -- and she takes her spot not far away.
"You really need to shape up if you don't want people to trample all over you," Jeanne says loud enough that it's obvious she meant to be heard, but with her eyes ever set on her laptop's screen, it's unclear just who she was talking too, although Laurie is the only person to have come in before Jeanne broke her silence. Almost as if she hadn't said a word, Jeanne reaches to sip her ice tea, and then returns her full attention to her computer.
Laurie blinks over at the other girl silently, her cocoa paused half an inch from her lips. She's fairly certain that comment was meant for her. It's like in that movie, 'Taxi Driver'. 'Are you talkin' to me? Are -you- talkin' to -me-?' Except for the fact that Laurie has nowhere near the courage to approach this person she doesn't know so belligerantly. The most she can manage, that the moment, is a quiet, "Excuse me?"
There's a string of clickity-clacking of fingers on keys, before Jeanne finally pauses her typing and turns her head from the computer screen to look directly at Laurie. "I have no reason to excuse you as you've done me no offense," it's a bit odd that is what Jeanne chooses to say to Laurie's fairly common question, but nevertheless, that's her mannerism. "You should be watchful, others may take advantage of the weakness you broadcast."
Laurie is, briefly, flummoxed. Her eyes study Jeanne, trying to figure out if she has seen this person before. She knows she's weak. Though possibly not as weak as people tend to think she is. "I... see..." she mumbles slowly. After a moment she says, "Thank you for the warning. I'll be careful." It seems the best response, at the moment.
Jeanne continues to outright stare at Laurie, aside from rolling her eyes at Laurie's reply, and then points at the seat next to her, "sit down," she tells Laurie in a rather sharp tone.
Laurie looks around quickly. She doesn't like to be the center of attention. If Jeanne is going to keep talking to her this way, her best option is to sit next to the other girl to at least keep things quiet. She picks up her mug and moves to sit beside the other girl.
At this point Jeanne flips her laptop shut and looks directly at Laurie, "see...? Can you explain why you just sat down next to me?" Jeanne asks inquisitively, sounding confused as if she doesn't realize she just asked Laurie rather firmly to sit down next to her.
"Yes," says Laurie, her voice muffled by the way she's holding her mug in front of her face. "I don't like being the center of attention. Easier to have you snap at me up close than to have you snap across the room -- fewer people will notice." She wishes Sofia were here -- it'd be safer if Sofia were here.
"Oh, you can?" Jeanne leans back in her seat, looking quite fascinated as she reaches for a sip of her ice tea. "Where did you come up with the notion I would snap at you?" Jeanne asks, looking at Laurie as if she was some science experiment. "You don't know me, and yet you did as I asked you to do, because you were concerned I would snap at you? That's very dangerous...you could get in serious trouble. Why do you think you're not important?"
"You already snapped at me," points out Laurie. She sips her cocoa for a moment, regarding Jeanne warily over the rim of the cup. "I'm not sure what else you'd call that order to sit down. Maybe I didn't have to come over here and sit with you, but the alternative seemed more likely to result in more attention than I'd want." She squints at Jeanne. "You don't know me either. What makes you think I think I'm not important?"
"You've yet to hear me snap, I was merely using my voice to convey a commanding tone. I had the hypothesis that you would obey without question, as you did," Jeanne points out, if she was playing at being a psychiatrist, she seems to have dropped the part where the patient must always be respected, her phrasing turns to be a bit on the blunt side. "The way you dress, the way you hold your posture, and how you meekly project to an entire room that you are the weakest person present."
Laurie's tone becomes dry. "Looks can be deceiving, whoever you are. I dress to avoid notice. Usually it works." She truly wishes Sofia were here. She's getting annoyed. And that tends to have worse results than scared.
"Can they?" Jeanne asks, sounding sincere in her question while her eyes remain glued to Laurie's, as best she can at least, what with Laurie's bangs covering them for the most part. "Suit yourself...I think you're endangering yourself." Another sip, and the laptop is flipped open again. Just like that Jeanne is back to typing, "from my experience weak incompetent predators will strike after the easiest of targets. You present yourself as such. Increased potential for trouble."
Laurie shakes her head slowly. "Even looking like this, I'm not that easy a target. I may look it, I may act it, but you are a girl my own age and we're in a public place, and I know the woman at the counter. If you tried something, even if I couldn't stop you myself, she'd be calling the police and my mom and my school quickly. But if you really tried something, I don't think it'd work anyway."
"I wouldn't try anything, silly, because I'm not some disgusting creep," Jeanne mouths out with mild annoyance in her tone of voice, still not sounding convinced that Laurie could protect herself if the need arose. "See? Just because you assume I'm a girl your own age, doesn't mean you resort to counting on Luna to help you, or the police to arrive on time. Your mom and your school is pretty much no use in real trouble," she doesn't know about the X-Institute after all and is thinking of a normal school. "If I were to try something, it would work, simply because I never make mistakes. But I'm glad you at the very least claim you're not weak, it's a start."
"You've made one rather big mistake, frankly," says Laurie. "But you couldn't know, and that's fine. I'm glad you're not a disgusting creep." She leans in slowly. "My father is a disgusting creep. He would probably have you screaming in terror right now, for even suggesting that he was weak." She leans back again, lifts her mug, takes a long swallow. Her body language has grown somewhat more confident since she moved over here. It's the knowledge that she could back up her assertions if she had to. Could if she wanted to. "I'm a lot nicer than he is," she adds.
The laptop is shut the second Laurie makes the accusation, Jeanne quickly packs it in her backpack as she looks directly at Laurie with great interest. "What mistake have I supposedly made?" She demands, a bit more assertive then before, apparently taken that of all things as a challenge. It is Laurie's words about her father that distract Jeanne from the burning question, as she smirks almost sinisterly, "is that so? Then I should love to meet your father someday...and see who would scream first." If Jeanne gave an impression she's not quite right in the head before, at least now Laurie can have a clue that it wasn't just a fluke. "No reason not to be nice to people, unless they distinctly don't deserve the courtesy." The way Laurie seemingly has gotten more confident now, Jeanne tilts her head, and even grants her, "perhaps you're not the weakest person in the room."
Laurie tilts her head slightly. "You are assuming that you are the strongest person in the room," she says. "And while I have no doubt that you're strong, there is always somebody stronger. Perhaps not in this room, but in general. Overconfidence can be just as dangerous as weakness."
At Jeanne's sinister smirk, Laurie observes, "Nobody should have to meet my father -- no matter whether you could deal with him or not." After a moment, she extends her hand. "I'm Laurie Collins. And no. I am not the weakest person in the room. I won't claim to be the strongest. I'm probably the shyest, and much of the time I'm afraid of my own shadow, but I have reason to be."
"I made no such claim," Jeanne says in reply, blinking at Laurie's suggestion, as if uncertain where Laurie derived it from. "Overconfidence does not equate to factual superiority, and it is not necessarily strength, so much as capacity to process a developing situation and eliminating all inferior courses of action to take the optimal choice every time."
"I've never met your father, and have no idea who he might be, but your description of him matches that of the creeps I most enjoy punishing." Extending her hand toward Laurie for a handshake, Jeanne introduces herself in turn, "Jeanne Foucault, and I'm glad you are stronger than you seem, though I still hold you have to aspire for more in that specific department." Reaching to empty the rest of her ice tea, she asks as if in after thought, "what is it, if you don't mind, that renders you stronger than Luna?"
Here Laurie hesitates. What makes her stronger? How would Jeanne react to the knowledge that the girl beside her is a mutant. Eventually she puffs out a breath. "Scare Luna and there are few consequences to you," she says. "Scare me, and it becomes reciprocal."
Jeanne remains silent for a moment, although it seems like thoughts are blazing through her mind. She remains silent for a few seconds, and then she simply asks, "empathic projector? Curious...I've yet to encounter such a strain. I guess the factor in question for such an hypothetical encounter is how strong your ability is compared to how strong my resolve it. You see, I don't get scared. If you can make me scared, I might not react as anticipated to that emotive input."
"Not exactly," says Laurie, her voice quieter than before. "I emit pheromones to make people feel what I do. It's not about resolve when it's a biochemical reaction." Or, at least, far less about resolve than if she were psychic. "I can't generally trust people's reactions to me -- whether they're reacting to me the way they would naturally, or the way my pheromones are making them react. It's made me very insular. But I'm a lot better than I used to be." She smiles wryly. "I would have been the weakest person in the room, back then."
"It's good you've identified the need to grow stronger," Jeanne comments, seeming satisfied with Laurie's words, as she muses over the explanation of pheromones. "Can you emit pheromones contrary to an emotion you experience? Either way, if your own fear causes your assailant to fear you, it is not a bad thing."
"I can, but it takes effort -- a lot more effort than letting my emotions carry others away." Laurie shrugs. "I don't have a lot of experience. I'm still learning." She pauses for a moment, and then observes, "You seem a lot less bothered by the presence of a mutant than most people."
"Mutants are only a natural step forward in evolution, there's nothing to be bothered by, it is the inevitable natural order of things," Jeanne explains without batting an eye. "That aside, few things bother me. Disgusting creeps are one thing that does bother me."
"Me too," concedes Laurie. "Which is why I strive not to be one. Too easy, with my powers." She finishes her mug of cocoa and pushes it aside. "I'm afraid I should head back to school, Jeanne, but it was nice to meet you. Strange... but nice." Eventually.
Jeanne nods at Laurie, "do try and not let others trample over you as much as you can," taking her own backpack, Jeanne turns to leave in turn, getting on her bicycle which are waiting for her outside.
Category:Log