2019-05-26 - Wants for the future

Summary:

Jean moves back to Xaviers, where she meets Chava.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Sun May 26 20:58:22 2019
Location: Institute - Foyer

Related Logs

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Theme Song

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jean-greychava-kang

Sunday afternoon in Xaviers is club afternoon. People walk around in the foyer to pass from one room to another, others sit there waiting for time to pass and meet with others. Among the crowd, somewhere closer to the door, is Chava, a stack of monster manuals and GM handbooks stacked next to her as she reads in one.

Now that graduation is over, Jean's returned to the school on a more regular basis. Much as she likes the city, she doesn't exactly have the funds to stay there. And while she could go home to her actual parents, that hasn't really been home in a decade. This is home. So when her school is out, it's back to this school that she comes.

Moving her stuff from one dorm room to another isn't that hard, but it does usually require some basic tools, which is what she's in search of as she comes trotting down the stairs, pausing as she catches sight of Chava. "Classic," she grins, nodding toward the books. "We used to run a game, too. Prof always said it was good for tactics and teamwork."

The girl looks up from the manual, the Tarrasque on her open page. "Did you know that Tarrascon in France was named after the monster that the Tarrasque is modeled after? Saint Martha tamed it… and promptly the inhabitants of Tarrascon slew it. To atone they renamed their city." Chava introduces, smiling a little as she closes the book, putting it to her stack. "Wait a moment… I have seen you on the graduation photos. 2014 or 15, right?"

"2015," Jean nods, smile easy. "I'm Jean," she introduces herself, offering over a hand. There's a certain warmth about her, as if she's never met someone she didn't like. "Was kind of a small class back then. And a little weird, in a different way from how we're usually weird around here. Are you just settling in, or finishing up your first year?" she asks, watching the flow of people through the halls.

"Chava. I'll be in the graduation class of 2019, got here the year after you graduated…" The girl shrugs, pushing the books to the side on the bench before following them and offering the now free spot to Jean. "I guess the school got larger since then."

"Every day," Jean agrees ruefully as she watches the students. "It's good, though. Means more people are getting a chance to learn in peace, figure out their powers, figure out who they are. And it means the vast majority of the people I grew up with have jobs as teachers now," she adds, grin flashing broader. "In for the summer, then?" It's a sidelong way of asking, given that some students stay for the summer just because their parents won't have them at home.

"Heh, might be that I learned under one of your classmates then. Or those that were before you. I guess I have the terrible torture of choices for the summer. o super grades to get to an elite uni, no idea how to pay for community college, so I guess either Xavier or looking for work it is…" Chava chuckles as she shrugs. "But honestly? Got no idea what to do anyway. That's, unless I can get something better to do than just hanging around in what became home in the last years." She doesn't mention that she doesn't have any other home anymore.

"Welcome to the club," Jean laughs, the corners of her eyes crinkling with her smile. "I went to ESU. Just graduated. But I still caught some guff from the others for leaving here," she admits. "I just…wasn't ready to decide to be here forever, you know? So there's nothing wrong with deciding to try something else if you want to. It's a big world out there. Lots of options."

"A big world for someone that fits all the bullet points of a model. Me? I'm just a short girl on the heavy side. Nothing to write home about. Just special enough to be here and join the cleanup for the teams, not special or good enough to join them." Chava notes, leaning back a little.

"That's very generous of you," Jean says, looking amused as she takes up a spot on the wall next to the girl. "But having just spent the last few years in the city, I can promise you no one's offering me modeling contracts. Besides, that's not really my scene. What about you? What are you good at? More importantly, what do you enjoy? People sometimes forget those aren't the same things."

"One can't really earn a lot with running games for friends… but I earn some from making props and costumes. Comes natural to me I guess," Chava answers, shrugging a little. "I mean, come on, if you could just fix up clothing with a gesture, wouldn't you like to dress up?"

"So maybe fashion isn't such a terrible field for you after all," Jean points out, quirking a brow with a small smile. "Is that what you do, then? Some sort of fabric control? Because I feel like you could make a killing in that just working backstage on Broadway, honestly."

"Till they find out I am a mutant you mean? That would give anyone hiring me most likely enough flak to get me fired in more than one way." The face of the asian girl is rather stern and dry as she talks about how some people still see them. "I mean, it is much safer to fix up the uniforms of people like the X-men. There's demand, so much is true, but could that be a job?"

"They let Bobby Drake keep the books here, I'm pretty sure anything is possible," Jean chuckles to Chava, lifting one shoulder in a slight shrug. "It's not all bad out there. Not everyone's bad about mutants. And the people in show business are a little bit more used to the unusual, or what's not socially accepted. I think the real question would be if they'd pay you fairly, since they'd think it was less like 'work' than someone sitting at a sewing machine. You should hear some of the cracks I've heard about how 'easy' it is to just pick things up with my brain."

Chava blinks at the note of Bobby keeping the books. "I… don't get that one. But even if they accept me, what can I give them as some sort of provenence? I mean, Broadway seamstress and costume maker is like a job they train people for…"

"It is," Jean agrees with a nod. "But it's also a thing people go to school for. And getting into those schools works a little differently than getting into your average liberal arts program. If it's something you're interested in, we could look into it? There are plenty of schools in the city. And even if you don't get into the schools, there are less formal apprenticeship programs. I know a couple people who might be able to give you an in for at least an interview."

Chava nods a little, but sighs a moment later. "Pushing the school a couple more years isn't what I had thought about when closing in on the finals… I guess this summer is the last chance I get to for the forseable time to get into some team…"

"Hey, it's your life," Jean smiles crookedly, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "It's all about choices. We don't necessarily get to choose how or when or what powers happen to us, but we get to choose the rest of our lives. I'll be the first person to tell you that this school doesn't have to be the be all and end all of your life."

"Well, at least I got to try to become a team member…" Chava notes, reaching over to the books to find the sole scrapbook in it to scrible something into it. Just a short note. X-Men. Which she shows just enough to Jean while making sure others don't look onto the paper before she flips it close again.

Jean quirks a brow, looking at the note and then at the hallway. "You know," she says quietly, smile faint, "That was never really the professor's reason for opening the school. He opened it to keep us safe. To give us a chance to be kids. To grow up like everyone else. The rest of it…" She pauses, then shrugs. "That was something that kind of grew out of the rest of it."

"I don't want others to have to endure what I did before they came to get me here." Chava notes with a look to the floor. "I mean, fixing the team's uniforms is all fun and games, but there's a difference between that and actually.. you know… doing something."

"Doing something doesn't necessarily mean running around punching people," Jean points out. "Sometimes it means making sure that people are fed. Sometimes it means filling out the paperwork to object to an eviction, and waiting in line at the courthouse to file it. There's a lot more downtime in life than in a game," she says, tipping her chin toward the books. "Speaking of which. I should really get back to things. I need to finish moving some stuff before someone trips over my boxes in the hall."

Chava sighs as she nods slowly. "Aye… see you some day then…"

"Probably every day," Jean notes, amused, as she starts down the hall in search of a hammer. "Place isn't really that big." She gestures around them then winks, turning to hurry back down the hall.

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