2011 09 19 So Literal

Log Title:
So Literal

Characters:
Finesse & Havok

IC Date:
09-19-11

Location:
Patio, Xavier Mansion

Brief log summary::
Finesse and Havok meet. He learns that her social skills are lacking.

Rating:
pg

There is no TS in this log::
Yes

Post your log::
Alex Summers is found face up in a long padded lounge chair half laying at a 45 degree angle out by the pool. The sun is high and the younger Summers brother wears only kakki long shorts (mid thigh) and sunglasses. His dark blue t-shirt is seen on the concrete next to him. Next to the shirt there is a bottle of water that is mostly empty. It's safe to assume his eyes are closed.

She's busy. When isn't she busy? Probably when she's sleeping, but it's unlikely that Jeanne even does that. In either case, the 'busy' part of the equation holds true, as the crisply dressed — slacks, blouse, pragmatic to the core; nothing glittery — young woman is stepping out onto the back porch with a laptop and an armload of files, all of which is laid out on one of those tables with an umbrella over it. A cursory glance is given to the poolside occupant, though no greeting is offered, and she sits down to start working on whatever curious business she's been up to with the mysterious Doctor that's invaded the mansion of late.

Alex hears the shuffling and lackadaisically rolls his head to the side so he can get a clear view of whom has joined his area. Alex remains quiet while she gets settled and wonders who she is but doesn't yet have the drive to get up and introduce himself.

"Please, don't let my presence disrupt you from your acquisition of a tan." Jeanne's finally settled, the files stacked up neatly, and the first one flipped open for her to start compiling the data the old-fashioned way. This, it should be noted, is not how she'd do it, but the Doc is just crazy enough to give her this kind of mundane nonsense. In either case, she doesn't look up from her typing, fingers flying across the keyboard as information is transferred from paper to whatever program she's working in.

Alex sits erect and then as he rises he grabs his water bottle. He'll stretch and as he walks over he'll note, "I'm Alex." introducing himself to the unfamiliar arrival.

Oh. Right. Is she supposed to be looking up? The social cues remain lost on Jeanne as she continues rattling away, one file quickly being finished and the next being opened. His approach just prompts a flat, "May I assist you in some way?" It's the introduction that has her finally, grudgingly, lifting her head to look at him with a petulant pressing of lips into a flat line. "Alex." Repetition for the sake of memorization, followed by, "I'm Jeanne." And cue the awkward silence.

Alex smiles, he figures she's shy or something along those lines. As he takes a seat across from her, he notes, "Jeanne. Nah, just wanted to say hi. So, I've not seen you around before." trying to start up a conversation and discover her origins or reason for being here.

Files are moved, the open one briskly being closed lest the contents be seen. The whole stack is dropped in the chair next to her, though the laptop remains open and serves as some measure of barrier between herself and this new interloper. "Mission accomplished. Good job." One beat. Two. Then: "I don't make a habit of exploring when I'm here to get work done. From the looks of things-" and there's a raised eyebrow at the khaki-clad Alex "-little work is actually done here if it's not myself or my employer doing anything."

Alex is reminded of a very awkward Legion when listening to this girl ramble on in what appears to him as non-sequitur speech patterns. "I'm sorry, what?" he asks for clarification as to what she's trying to relay.

"You haven't seen me around before," Jeanne explains with the patience of one speaking to a child, "because I don't explore when I'm here. I'm usually working with the good Doctor," oh, sarcasm, "if I'm here. But, from what I have seen, we are generally the only ones doing actual work." Clarification given, her brows lift just a little with a milder form of expectation. "Is that sufficient, or do I need to acquire crayons and construction paper or some alternative means by which to explain the only possible reason you would not have seen me around?"

Alex totally gets it now and he's really not sure how to take her tone or sarcasm. Except that he's Alex Summers, not known for tact himself and instead of backing off, he launches are rebuttal, "Lady, I don't know where you get off but being a bitch doesn't get you far where I come from. You might want to keep your mouth in check and learn what it means to be polite."

With that he stands up and will turn his back to her soon to begin walking back toward his original location before he does something he'll regret.

Most women might react with vehemence or venom, but Jeanne is not most women. She may or may not be human, really. The lid of her laptop is slowly brought down while he speaks, her fingers lacing over the top of it by the time he's done. One eyebrow remains raised, but it could either be amusement or sardonic humor. "I don't belive I was being impolite," she intones. "The alternatives exist. But, since you understand now what I was saying the first time, then I don't need to pursue those options." There's a peculiar lack of inflection there, neither irritation nor a desire to needle him further; it's a matter-of-factness that cuts through everything, which may or may not shed more light on her nature. Or not. In either case, she watches as he moves away, her expression impassive.

It just takes a moment for her to dig deep and try: "Beyond interrupting people who are actively doing work, what -do- you do around here?"

Hearing her words of recovery, Alex pauses his departure and will turn around with a rising smile. That went a whole lot better than a Lyle Lovett song.

"Aside from hanging out by the pool, I double as the cruise director and entertainment coordinator for lovely women new to the mansion." Alex replies in a lighter tone - some would recognize he's joking and or flirting as they might know Alex decently well enough to have experienced that side of him.

Unfortunately, all of that pretty well hits a brick wall. It's really not him, though; it's all her. "Really." Deadpan. "I was unaware that there would be a need for a cruise director or entertainment coordinator in a place like this, so I'll have to presume that's why you're out here and not actually doing anything toward those ends." Jeanne doesn't smile and, in fact, if her expression changes, it's only for that raised eyebrow to drop down and neutrality to claim her mien once more.

Alex sees the lack of humor on her face and figures that was his second strike. His right foot is placed in the chair opposite her and he leans forward, right elbow to right knee. "So…Jeanne, what do you do for fun?" is the open ended question to see if she's even human (not human vs alien or human vs mutant, but to see if he's getting anywhere in the conversation).

"Fun is subjective." Jeanne leans back just slightly, her hands still laced on the laptop's cover. Lips flat, her eyes narrow just a little. "I read. I train. That's 'fun' for me. My understanding, through interactions with others, is that those activities aren't usually 'fun'." In short: your mileage may vary. His posturing is noted and it seems to take some effort for her to bring herself to query: "And yourself? What do you perceive as 'fun' for you?"

Alex is really trying to figure her out and starts to realize she might has Aspergers Syndrome. That doesn't immediately dissuade him from answering her though, he looks back at the pool, "Hanging out by the pool. Hiking, Going out with friends. Drinking, when it doesn't always end up in a train wreck. <recent experience>. Movies, dancing, just relaxing and getting away from the normal crap of everyday life."

She listens, at least. Or seems to. Regardless, it's all filtered in, filed away as neat as you please, and eventually resolves in a bland, "I see." More awkward silence unravels until she realizes something should be added to fill in that gap, though it takes Jeanne a few seconds more before the words come into being. "If you want to swim, please, don't let my presence hold you back from that at all." She's catching those looks to the pool, after all. "You seem to be doing an admirable job of avoiding the so-called 'normal crap', in either case."

Yep, there's no way Alex will ever get to know or even grasp what's going on inside this girl's head. He realizes this now and says, "Cool." as he figures that's the best way to resolve it all and places both feet on the ground. "It's shower time. Maybe I'll catch you around sometime."

If it's any consolation — which it might not be — it's unlikely anyone can figure out just what's at work in that head of hers. "Doubtful," Jeanne replies at the end. "Unless you think you can run fast enough to catch me." Her literalist bent does hold a dim spark of humor to it, but it's there and gone in the wink of an eye. As he presumably moves off to go shower, she flips open the laptop and goes right back to work, as if nothing had happened at all.

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