A Lack of Christmas Spirit

Brief Title:

Characters:
Finesse Showstopper

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:
12/20/12 23:47

Location:
Xavier Mansion

Summary:
Richenda tries a friendly conversation with Jeanne, only to realize Jeanne isn't like most people

Social or Plot:

TS:
No

Log:
Gym. Thank God it's over.

Not that Chenda hates physical activity, really. But the regimentation gets old. Game Day is usually okay, unless Jeanne is on the other team. Like today.

Fortunately, there's always a hot shower to wash away the soreness and the annoyance, and the gym showers never run out of hot water. Having a study hall period after gym, Chenda can afford to linger there a few minutes longer than most, and usually does. Like today.

Finally finished, she shuts off the water, letting the bad feelings swirl down the drain. Toweling herself off, she slips into fresh undies and opens the shower door. Farewell, sweet sanctuary, the world awaits. No doubt tapping its foot impatiently.

Jeanne goes about Gym class the same way she goes about anything else, precision, optimal performance, and doing whatever it takes to secure the goal. Following the class she goes about the shower as quickly as possible, as if lingering there would just mean taking away from more important things. Which likely how she sees it. The girl is just odd at times in how she doesn't indulge too much in luxuries, such as a nice hot shower. Stepping out of the shower towards her locker, she quickly dresses up, skinny jeans and a t-shirt, nothing fancy. She doesn't talk to anyone else in the room, but then she's been even more of a recluse then usual following her 'talk' with Jean Grey, being grounded indefinitely didn't help her mood any.

"Oh!" It just comes out at the sight of the one other remaining person in the room. Chenda'd honestly thought everybody'd gone by now. Of course, she can't leave 'til she's dressed, not unless she wants another demerit... and while she doesn't much care about marks on a piece of paper, dealing with what goes with them gets old. "Hey, Jeanne." May as well be civil.

She spins the combination dial and opens her locker, which is only one away from Jeanne's. Which leaves them almost rubbing shoulders. "Finished up your Christmas shopping yet?"

Jeanne was about to leave the locker room, but stops upon hearing her name, slowly turning to look at Richenda. She says nothing at first, instead she just stares at Richenda, and after a moment's delay, she nods her head in acknowledgement. "I haven't done any Christmas shopping, it is pointless, I'm not going to buy friends with presents and I don't wish to try."

Chenda blushes a little at the long scrutiny. "I promise, I'm not hiding any weapons or spy gear in my underwear," she says, looking away to pull out her clothes. "Or in anything else, for that matter." She looks back, lifting an eyebrow. "Buying Christmas presents isn't buying friends, Jeanne. It's just showing them that you care... you do care, right?"

"I did not suspect as much," Jeanne remarks dryly at Chenda's sarcasm, "care? I'm grounded forever because of Ruth, and she's the only one I was considering as a friend, until I learned otherwise. Nobody likes me, Richenda, and I'm perfectly fine with that. I don't have to pretend because it's some happy fun holiday coming up..."

"Oh. I thought you would've," the gymnast replies honestly. "Why was Ruth the only person you were considering as a friend?" Chenda has to ask, shaking locker dust from a black baby tee before she begins pulling it on. No matter how much you clean a locker, the darn things still collect fine dust like vacuum cleaners.

"Well, she is my roommate, and until recently I thought she wanted to have a genuine friendship with me without ulterior motives, but then she had to narc on me, and get me punished," Jeanne mutters with a tinge of displeasure in her tone of voice. "Well, if you wanted to ask me about Christmas shopping, that's that, I don't waste time on frivlous matters. Was there anything else?"

"Maybe she was worried about you," Chenda suggests, frowning thoughtfully. "I mean, you've been sneaking out a lot, and there's a lot of dangerous stuff going on out there."

Jeanne rolls her eyes at that, "please, Ms. Grey assigned me a combat session with Ms. Braddock as part of my punishment, and I wound up injuring Ms. Braddock. I think everyone here underestimates me, I'm not a useless little kid, I am very capable."

"Which might've been why Ruth was worried. Even someone very capable can get in over their head," Chenda points out. "And I can't speak for everyone here, but the last thing /I'd/ ever think of you is that you're a useless little kid. I doubt very many other people think that of you, either. Especially if they've been on the other team in Dodgeball," she adds wryly.

"Riiight," Jeanne doesn't seem to agree, but has had her share of this topic, she's not about to argue it further. Smirking, Jeanne quips, "clearly Ms. Grey and the faculty think that of me, and their opinion is the one that counts. They won't let me take care of my own business."

"The grounding. Right," Chenda murmurs, recalling that. She hadn't known exactly /why/ Jeanne had been grounded, only that she had, and now two and two make four. "Have you thought about asking for help? I know it's your business, but this has been going on for a long time now."

"I know what to do, and I would have done it, if Ruth hadn't mouthed off to Ms. Grey who now has me grounded for life, apparently," Jeanne groans, landing a palm strike on her locker with a thud.

"Which would make this a really good time to look for some help," Chenda replies dryly, shaking out her own jeans and stepping into them. "Preferably some /mobile/ help. Somehow I doubt that /everyone/ hates you."

"I'm not going to get anyone in trouble for some guy who wants to make a Jack O'Lantern out of my head," Jeanne states outright, as if there's nopoint for discussion, as she shrugs at Richenda's suggestion that not everyone hates her. "Ms. Grey and the faculty does, that's enough," she then starts heading outside again, not having much more to say.

Chenda mutters something incomprehensible, turning to follow Jeanne but tripping on the jeans she was still pulling up. She barely manages to catch herself, jarring her hands and shoulders painfully on the tile floor. "Jeanne, will you come back here? Why in the world do you think everyone hates you?" she has to ask, wincing and trying to draw her knees up to stand. How embarrassing...

Jeanne stops when she hears Chenda trip, turning around, she's not fast enough to rush and catch Richenda, unless of course she choose not to do so. She does walk back towards Richenda at her request, "what is it? People are superficial by nature, they don't care for honesty, I tend to be brutally honest. Hence, I am not well liked. By the way, you need to work on your awareness, that was a pretty bad reason to trip."

Chenda winces, nodding at the criticism. "Yes, I know... but have you ever considered /not/ saying the first thing that comes to mind when you're talking to them?" she asks, toeing off her jeans to untangle her legs. She finally gets to her feet, standing in her purple undies as she looks herself over for injury. "Maybe they'd talk to you longer that way. Friendships are born with communication."

"I'm not sure I follow your meaning," Jeanne rasps, feeling like she's wasting her time now as she delays further in the locker room. "I'm not going to sugar coat anything for everyone, life is tought."

"I didn't say anything about sugarcoating," Chenda reminds Little Miss Perfect, catching up her jeans and dusting them off. "But what about just /not/ speaking up when a criticism springs to mind? People generally ask for advice or criticism when they want it. Yes, that's superficial, but you're not doing yourself or them any favors when you go around spouting off how badly they're doing stuff, in your humble opinion."

"I am offering help, I am pointing a deficency so they know to improve upon, I can't think of anything nicer," the remarkable thing is that Jeanne sounds absolutely genuine when she says that, as if she truly believes it, maybe the girl really does have a problem understanding people.

Chenda blinks, then sighs softly. "Jeanne... they'll ask for it if they want help," she replies softly. "Chances are, they realize how they screwed up. Having it pointed out to their face, especially in front of others, is just rubbing salt in an open wound."

"I don't need this," Jeanne spits out and turns to leave, not stopping this time, muttering as she heads out of the locker room, "not enough I get lectured by faculty, now I get lectured by students too, perfect..."

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