Kitty and Jean-Paul
Jul. 5th, 2017 07:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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ax_mainThe Canadian arrives the day after the 4th, of course. Kitty takes him flying in a most awkward fashion.
Ever since Kitty had talked to Shen about flying, it had been on her mind. Technically it was possible. When she merged with air molecules, she just had to project her own 'self' forward, or up or down in order to move. But it wasn't exactly that simple in practice. She'd been trying for the last hour in the library, attempting to reach the top shelf without getting a ladder or anything.
In fact, she'd barely gotten off the ground. She knew it was mental. She knew that somehow she had to convince herself that flying was possible. But.. the best she could think to do was imagine a staircase, slowly walking up the steps to her destination. She couldn't have known that would actually work. Especially since she had her eyes closed in concentration at the time.
When she finally opened her eyes, she was halfway through the ceiling of the library, and the floor of the boy's dormitory. A boy's room.
Jean-Paul had been engaged in unpacking when the flicker of movement near the floor caught his eye. He dropped his clothes onto the bureau and whirled to face it, frowning... then his eyes widened.
"What the hell...?!"
"Oh man." Kitty looked around, then tried to decide if she should just let herself fall, or climb out through the floor and end up trapped in the boy's dorm. "Uh. I'm. Uh. This isn't what it looks like!"
"It looks like a gross invasion of privacy." Jean-Paul's bright blue eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"
"Well, I was trying to fly, but it ended up more like walking, or climbing, I'm not really sure. I...can I come up? I mean the alternative is down..." Kitty pointed out sheepishly.
"Fine. The faster you're up, the faster you can leave."
Grumpy, much? Kitty didn't know who the boy was, so he must have just arrived. His accent made it sound like he might be from France. "Right," she breathed out, and took another step up, just like she had done before. This time, though, the imaginary step wasn't there, and she started to fall, arms flailing out to grab the floor, forcing herself to think solid, solid, solid.
"Tabernac!" Jean-Paul lunged forward without thinking, making a grab for her hand.
Without thinking, Kitty grasped the older boy's arm, and suddenly they were both tumbling through the ceiling, toward the floor of the library, limbs kicking out without substance through the towering bookshelves.
Jean-Paul managed to land on his feet, but he was on his ass a moment later, grimacing at the pain reverberating from ankles to hipbone.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he hissed.
Kitty winced, rubbing at her own butt a little, having landed in much the same way as him. She released him arm, chewing at her lip in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to!"
"That much is obvious." Jean-Paul rubbed his shins, trying to massage away the pins-and-needles echoes of pain. "Do this sort of thing often?"
She flushed self-consciously. "Yes. No. Yes, I phase through objects. No, I don't usually pull guys out of their rooms with me," she pouted as she checked an elbow that would be a nice bruise in the morning.
"You might wish to work on that last part." Jean-Paul pushed himself onto his feet, refusing to wince. "What's your name?"
"Kitty," she sighed, levering herself up. Ow. Maybe she needed to practice flying in the gym. Where there were mats. "Kitty Pryde."
"So is this the training regimen Xavier mentioned?"
She heaved an even bigger sigh. "No. I was just. I was trying to fly, okay?"
"You might want to consider getting the basics down first." His gaze flicked up toward the ceiling. "At least until you develop a less adversarial relationship with heights."
Kitty frowned at him. "What basics?"
Jean-Paul shrugged. "I should know how your powers work? You tell me."
"Wow, you are a piece of work. Who do you think..." she trailed off for a moment as got a better look at him, her gaze sweeping over his face as her brow furrowed in thought. She'd seen him before. Somewhere. An interview. She'd been watching ice dancing, and the coverage had switched over. She'd almost changed the channel, but he'd been so cute, and interesting... "You're...that snowboarder."
"I do snowboard," Jean-Paul confirmed. "And I was the person who was minding his own business before I got hauled through the floor for trying to keep you from going splat. So perhaps you can understand why I'm not thrilled at the moment."
Kitty pursued her lips, twitching them to one side. So he wasn't French - he was Canadian. She remembered that much. And he was kind of famous. Well, famous enough. She wondered what he was doing at Xavier's, then. But he was giving her that icy stare and eventually she heaved a big sigh. "I'm really sorry about splatting you. And thank you for trying to help me even though I ruined your unpacking."
Jean-Paul waved off the apology. "It's nothing. How did you know you wouldn't just..." He gestured at the ceiling. "Merge with the floor."
"Oh, as long as I'm concentrating, I don't get stuck," Kitty assured him. "It's what I do. Quantum tunneling. Phasing. I don't actually merge with anything - I pass through it. I mean, I guess on a certain level you could think of it as merging, because like you saw, I could move through the air, but on a molecular level, I never actually become a part of anything."
"But if you lose your concentration, it is a possibility?"
Kitty frowned. "Theoretically."
He finally smiled, a sharp-edged grin. "Ballsy move, then."
"So wait," Kitty said, waving a hand. "Now you're egging me on?"
"If you're asking if I want to see you appearing in my room again, then no." He shrugged. "Still took guts, though."
"Thanks..." Kitty replied, still trying to decide if he was nice, or hot, or a jerk, or some weird combination of all three. "Are you going to, like, tell me your name or anything? Or should I Google it?"
"You might get more interesting results if you did." He shrugged. "Jean-Paul Beaubier, recently Martin."
Kitty had to grin at the remark. "Yeah well, I doubt I'd get the truth out of Google. Are you really one of us? Why come here?"
"My sister." Another shrug. "She was contacted by your headmaster, and he made and offer. And since it's the only way we can be together, we took him up on it."
She blinked, then eyes widened. "Wow. Both of you have powers?"
Jean-Paul snorted. "I didn't say anything about me. My sister's got some kind of light powers."
"Oh," Kitty replied, a little furrow in her brow. "So you're here for her."
"I already said that, non?" He looked amused. "Do all the students get a 'Welcome to Xavier's' interrogation?"
Another huff. "No, I just..." Kitty pouted. "Sorry. Do you, uh, want me to show you the way back up?"
He waved off the apology. "Non, I would have had to come down to eat before long anyway. If you want to show me the kitchen, though, I would not mind."
Kitty's pout melted into a grin as she headed for the door. "That I can do. I'm starving after all of that practice anyway. That's kind of a staple for people around here, actually. The metabolism thing. Everybody tends to raid the kitchen at least a few times a day."
Jean-Paul fell into step beside her, just letting her talk, glad that he'd gotten away with not having given a yes or a no to the subject of his own powers.
Ever since Kitty had talked to Shen about flying, it had been on her mind. Technically it was possible. When she merged with air molecules, she just had to project her own 'self' forward, or up or down in order to move. But it wasn't exactly that simple in practice. She'd been trying for the last hour in the library, attempting to reach the top shelf without getting a ladder or anything.
In fact, she'd barely gotten off the ground. She knew it was mental. She knew that somehow she had to convince herself that flying was possible. But.. the best she could think to do was imagine a staircase, slowly walking up the steps to her destination. She couldn't have known that would actually work. Especially since she had her eyes closed in concentration at the time.
When she finally opened her eyes, she was halfway through the ceiling of the library, and the floor of the boy's dormitory. A boy's room.
Jean-Paul had been engaged in unpacking when the flicker of movement near the floor caught his eye. He dropped his clothes onto the bureau and whirled to face it, frowning... then his eyes widened.
"What the hell...?!"
"Oh man." Kitty looked around, then tried to decide if she should just let herself fall, or climb out through the floor and end up trapped in the boy's dorm. "Uh. I'm. Uh. This isn't what it looks like!"
"It looks like a gross invasion of privacy." Jean-Paul's bright blue eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"
"Well, I was trying to fly, but it ended up more like walking, or climbing, I'm not really sure. I...can I come up? I mean the alternative is down..." Kitty pointed out sheepishly.
"Fine. The faster you're up, the faster you can leave."
Grumpy, much? Kitty didn't know who the boy was, so he must have just arrived. His accent made it sound like he might be from France. "Right," she breathed out, and took another step up, just like she had done before. This time, though, the imaginary step wasn't there, and she started to fall, arms flailing out to grab the floor, forcing herself to think solid, solid, solid.
"Tabernac!" Jean-Paul lunged forward without thinking, making a grab for her hand.
Without thinking, Kitty grasped the older boy's arm, and suddenly they were both tumbling through the ceiling, toward the floor of the library, limbs kicking out without substance through the towering bookshelves.
Jean-Paul managed to land on his feet, but he was on his ass a moment later, grimacing at the pain reverberating from ankles to hipbone.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he hissed.
Kitty winced, rubbing at her own butt a little, having landed in much the same way as him. She released him arm, chewing at her lip in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to!"
"That much is obvious." Jean-Paul rubbed his shins, trying to massage away the pins-and-needles echoes of pain. "Do this sort of thing often?"
She flushed self-consciously. "Yes. No. Yes, I phase through objects. No, I don't usually pull guys out of their rooms with me," she pouted as she checked an elbow that would be a nice bruise in the morning.
"You might wish to work on that last part." Jean-Paul pushed himself onto his feet, refusing to wince. "What's your name?"
"Kitty," she sighed, levering herself up. Ow. Maybe she needed to practice flying in the gym. Where there were mats. "Kitty Pryde."
"So is this the training regimen Xavier mentioned?"
She heaved an even bigger sigh. "No. I was just. I was trying to fly, okay?"
"You might want to consider getting the basics down first." His gaze flicked up toward the ceiling. "At least until you develop a less adversarial relationship with heights."
Kitty frowned at him. "What basics?"
Jean-Paul shrugged. "I should know how your powers work? You tell me."
"Wow, you are a piece of work. Who do you think..." she trailed off for a moment as got a better look at him, her gaze sweeping over his face as her brow furrowed in thought. She'd seen him before. Somewhere. An interview. She'd been watching ice dancing, and the coverage had switched over. She'd almost changed the channel, but he'd been so cute, and interesting... "You're...that snowboarder."
"I do snowboard," Jean-Paul confirmed. "And I was the person who was minding his own business before I got hauled through the floor for trying to keep you from going splat. So perhaps you can understand why I'm not thrilled at the moment."
Kitty pursued her lips, twitching them to one side. So he wasn't French - he was Canadian. She remembered that much. And he was kind of famous. Well, famous enough. She wondered what he was doing at Xavier's, then. But he was giving her that icy stare and eventually she heaved a big sigh. "I'm really sorry about splatting you. And thank you for trying to help me even though I ruined your unpacking."
Jean-Paul waved off the apology. "It's nothing. How did you know you wouldn't just..." He gestured at the ceiling. "Merge with the floor."
"Oh, as long as I'm concentrating, I don't get stuck," Kitty assured him. "It's what I do. Quantum tunneling. Phasing. I don't actually merge with anything - I pass through it. I mean, I guess on a certain level you could think of it as merging, because like you saw, I could move through the air, but on a molecular level, I never actually become a part of anything."
"But if you lose your concentration, it is a possibility?"
Kitty frowned. "Theoretically."
He finally smiled, a sharp-edged grin. "Ballsy move, then."
"So wait," Kitty said, waving a hand. "Now you're egging me on?"
"If you're asking if I want to see you appearing in my room again, then no." He shrugged. "Still took guts, though."
"Thanks..." Kitty replied, still trying to decide if he was nice, or hot, or a jerk, or some weird combination of all three. "Are you going to, like, tell me your name or anything? Or should I Google it?"
"You might get more interesting results if you did." He shrugged. "Jean-Paul Beaubier, recently Martin."
Kitty had to grin at the remark. "Yeah well, I doubt I'd get the truth out of Google. Are you really one of us? Why come here?"
"My sister." Another shrug. "She was contacted by your headmaster, and he made and offer. And since it's the only way we can be together, we took him up on it."
She blinked, then eyes widened. "Wow. Both of you have powers?"
Jean-Paul snorted. "I didn't say anything about me. My sister's got some kind of light powers."
"Oh," Kitty replied, a little furrow in her brow. "So you're here for her."
"I already said that, non?" He looked amused. "Do all the students get a 'Welcome to Xavier's' interrogation?"
Another huff. "No, I just..." Kitty pouted. "Sorry. Do you, uh, want me to show you the way back up?"
He waved off the apology. "Non, I would have had to come down to eat before long anyway. If you want to show me the kitchen, though, I would not mind."
Kitty's pout melted into a grin as she headed for the door. "That I can do. I'm starving after all of that practice anyway. That's kind of a staple for people around here, actually. The metabolism thing. Everybody tends to raid the kitchen at least a few times a day."
Jean-Paul fell into step beside her, just letting her talk, glad that he'd gotten away with not having given a yes or a no to the subject of his own powers.
