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When Jean-Paul Beaubier had off-handedly remarked about trying to lose as many reporters as possible in a bad part of town, he had not actually been joking… and that quest has naturally led him here. To Mutant Town. Those journalists that had been brave enough to follow him in have been long since ditched elsewhere in the neighborhood's twists and turns.
The one downside is that, as satisfying as that had been, it meant that Jean-Paul was alone. Again. As he wanders down the sidewalk with his hands tucked into the pockets of his black peacoat, he can't keep the sense of boredom from showing on his face. It's a terrible thing, to be so unoccupied. It lets one think. This must stop.
*
Laura is… out. Sort of. She's taking a turn around the block, patrolling. It's a thing she does, much like cats occassionally wander their territory just to check up on things. She kind of looks it, too, wearing her bulky, rugged combat jacket and pants, matching boots, and a surly expression. Why surly? Who knows. It happens sometimes. She's kept the slightly odd warrior's braid on one side of her head as her hair's gotten longer. Her concession to style.
As she nears Jean-Paul, the tilts her head up and sniffs. That isn't a smell she knows. Not all that many people just wander into Mutant Town these days.
*
Having just come from Heather's apartment at the Baxter Building, Jean-Paul's scent has some tinges of familiarity — but he is definitely not David. He smells far too much like money for that. He definitely doesn't react to spotting Laura the same way a man like David would, either.
Jean-Paul stops where he is and squints in Laura's direction, making no attempt to hide the once-over he's giving her before his eyes settle on her face. "What."
*
Laura most people probably do not respond to Jean-Paul's once-overs by returning it with a sort of exacting scan of their own. They certainly don't give the impression of cataloguing details. Nor do they often take his snippy questions at face value. "You are not from around here," she states, matter-of-fact about it. Non-accusatory, even. "That is usually trouble." It's been rough times in the area lately.
*
"I have been accused of such before," Jean-Paul admits in French-accented english, continuing to peer in Laura's direction with his hands tucked away in his pockets. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, pursing his lips. Hm. "Things have not been very good in these neighborhood lately," he notes, casting a quick glance around. "How has it been here?"
*
Laura shrugs a shoulder, a typical non-answer for her. "People come looking for trouble sometimes. They find it. But not the way they wanted, usually. It is quite foolish." She pauses, tilts her head as if listening to something, adds, "Same as always."
*
This actually gets an approving smile out of Jean-Paul. "You help them find it, do you? Tres bien," he says brightly, and now he finally starts walking again. He has no intention of making trouble and this girl is clearly more concerned with keeping trouble out, so there should be no issue. "You seem to be doing a fine job. Sacramento fared much more poorly," he notes, wrinkling his nose.
*
Laura has learned that when people are talking to you, and walking off, that it is generally expected that one fall into step. So she does. She might be wrong, but people are still confusing like that. It's aggravating. "Sometimes," she allows. "There is plenty to go around. I do not understand why people believe that walking into a neighborhood full of people that can make fire from their fingertips is going to go some way other than it does just because they brought a substandard knife. I have been stabbed many times. By much more appropriate knives for the purpose. It is not scary."
*
"People are idiots," Jean-Paul immediately replies, and he actually takes care to ensure that Laura is able to comfortably keep pace with him. Will wonders never cease. "Especially those who have determined that their bigotry is righteous. They are dangerous, stupid, and — sadly — often in positions of some authority." Alas. Almost absently, he slips a hand from his pocket to offer it. "Jean-Paul. I am sorry to hear that you are so familiar with knives. You seem much too young for that. Or are appearances deceiving?"
*
Laura looks at the hand for several moments before she remembers what to do with the gesture, freeing a hand to… briefly tough his in something approximating a handshake. She's not good at them. There aren't many people she cares to actually touch. The rest get reluctant contact in an effort to be vagely civilized.
"Not in the way you imply. It was part of our training. We were meant to be a weapon." She's still not really good at explaining this part to actual people.
*
Good thing someone who is good at actual people isn't far off. Lucy is on her way home from work, ponytail bouncing, a skip in her stride. When she sees Laura, she waves enthusiastically, her face lighting up.
"Laura!" She wasn't expecting to see Laura until she got home and seeing her now is an extra special treat. It would also have been an extra special treat if she'd seen Laura at home. Is there someone with Laura? Lucy hasn't noticed yet. She's just happy to see Laura. If her alien powers allowed it, there might actually be hearts in her eyes.
*
Jean-Paul actually starts to withdraw his hand before Laura remembers, and now he's studying her with a new level of curiosity and interest. "We were, were we?" he asks, tilting his head to one side. He begins to ask more when they are joined — abruptly — by a blonde, and she is bubbly enough that he actually visibly startles. Good God. The contrast.
*
It gets worse, Paul. Because Laura goes from Downright Sullen to Actually Happy like a black lab that's been waiting for people to come home or something. She reacts to Lucy's arrival by smiling and tossing her arms around the other girl's neck. There's even a little peck tot he blonde's cheek because Laura doesn't care about society in the slightest. It's just a lot of confusing stupid things.
"Lucy. This is Jean-Paul. I was patrolling. We started talking." Somehow this is explanatory.
*
Lucy hugs Laura back happily before kissing her cheek in return. They're not very good at this being stealthy thing. Not that kind of stealthy anyway — special ops stealthy is another thing altogether. When she lets Laura go, their hands find each other almost automatically, fingers twining together.
"Hello, Jean-Paul." She offers him her free hand — the proper one — in greeting. If Laura has approved this attractive gentleman, then he is approved enough for Lucy. "So nice to meet you. You must be new to Mutant Town; I would remember seeing you about. Welcome!"
*
Jean-Paul just peers at the pair with absolutely no attempt whatsoever to hide his apprehension. What fresh hell has he stumbled into here? Is this… this is karma, isn't it? He's done something to deserve this. Warily, he reaches out to accept Lucy's hand for a shake. "I am. Thank you."
*
Laura seems MUCH more comfortable with the idea of absently holding Lucy's hand than she was touching a stranger long enough for a simple handshake. On the other hand, the happy bright demeanor appears to have been a limited-edition occurance brought on by Lucy's arrival.
"I was explaining the sorts of people that make trouble here. Particularly how ridiculous they are."
*
"It's frustrating." Lucy scowls but it's the sunniest scowl in history. "We don't want to hurt them." She pauses. "That's not entirely true," she allows. Laura's blunt honesty has rubbed off on her. "Wanting to hurt them and it not being expedient or wise to hurt them — not the same. It's better for us if we don't hurt them, but they are very determined to hurt themselves on us. I don't like it. I don't want people coming in here and locking the place down." She looks at Laura. "Or taking some of us away."
*
"So why stay?" Jean-Paul asks, glancing between the pair with genuine curiosity on his face. "There are other, equally horrible neighborhoods one could live in that are just as dangerous without having a big old target painted on them. I am told that Hell's Kitchen is lovely this time of year," he muses with a shrug, sliding his hands into his coat's pockets.
Jean-Paul does not, notably, wait for an answer.
"It is noble to want to keep the people here safe," Jean-Paul adds, turning in place as he continues to walk alongside them, taking a look around as he does so. "I hope they appreciate you. But you are young women so I am virtually certain they do not, not enough."
*
"Because we are not the only ones who do so," Laura responds promptly. "It is easier to disappear into a crowd that looks like you do. Our neighbors are on our side. Noone is surprised when someone comes looking for trouble in Mutant Town and something strange happens. Protection from the outside is normal here. The trouble we do have is nothing to worry about. Other places are too exposed. Too curious. Too likely to make real trouble. We chose this place very carefully."
*
"To leave because something isn't right is just saying 'let it happen to someone else'." Lucy shakes her head so that her ponytail flicks across her shoulders. "If Laura and I couldn't manage, if we weren't safe, maybe, but we can manage better than almost anyone around. Laura is smart and knows a lot about fighting and tactics and she's just a good fighter in general. I can protect people, control the field, draw attention, retaliate. We're both hard to hurt and we're a really good team and the neighborhood knows that." She squeezes Laura's hand.
"Besides, it's our home. We can be ourselves here. That matters."
*
Jean-Paul cannot help but give Laura a somewhat flat look when she mentions blending into a crowd that 'looks like you do'. Yes, because the brunette and blonde look so terribly inhuman, blending in around Midtown must be a nightmare scenario for them.
The rest, however, earns them both a simple nod. "You can be yourself anywhere you damned well want to be. But starting somewhere you feel safe is, I suppose, a start," Jean-Paul allows graciously, casting a look skyward.
*
Laura peers at Jean-Paul when she gets the flat look. "There are more appearances than physical," she notes pointedly. "And when people are looking for you, they do not always use their eyes. Behaviour patterns are harder to hide." She *almost* sounds like she's reciting.
She glances at Lucy. "Also appearances are deceiving," she notes, echoing his own words back at him.
*
"I like your appearance," Lucy says to Laura before leaning over to kiss Laura on the cheek again. There's the distinct impression of little heart-and-ribbon-bearing bluebirds singing as they fly around her head. "Your behaviour is very distinctive, but I like that, too. I don't mind that this place is 'horrible' and I don't mind being poor. I've been rich and lived in a big house. This is so much better." Obviously, because Laura — the most wonderful person in the world — is here with her.
*
Jean-Paul leaves his head tipped back to stare up at the sky throughout all of this. It is safest, and if there is a God who was merciful enough to explain to him what it was he had done to deserve this experience, Jean-Paul would not want to miss seeing Them appear.
*
Laura reaches to give Lucy a typically-understated little pat-pat on the top of her head. "I am simply explaining the realities. Which is that you glow and I do not behave in what is considered a normal fashion. Such things do not go noticed here as easily. It is a good choice given the circumstances."
And in a curiously appropriate decision to change topics… "So what brings your through, Jean-Paul?" she asks curiously. "You do not seem very fond of the area."
*
"Good question? Did you get chased here?" Lucy's slight annoyance with the man is immediately tempered by concern. "That happens sometimes, even to people who aren't mutants. We try to help those ones get home."
*
In response to Lucy's concern, Jean-Paul actually cracks a smile and brushes his hair back from his noticably pointed ears, glancing at her sidelong. "I was chased here, actually," he admits, but he sounds downright cheerful about it. "By reporters who will, I am sure, stumble their way back to the sewers they came from sooner or later."
*
Laura gives the approximate impression of an animal's ears going back. She doesn't have pointy expressive ears, but she may as well at times. Someone does not like reporters. What a surprise. "Good. Maybe they will fall down a hole," she mutters darkly. Reporters are like… a direct affront to her existance. Not really, but.
*
Lucy makes a sound that is the manifestation of teenaged disdain and disgust. "Reporters are the worst," she groans. "Maybe we should make some traps. Pit traps. Yes. Too bad bamboo doesn't grow in New York…" Maybe she's been with Laura too much lately. …impossible.
*
"Having a more formal neighborhood watch might not be a bad idea, at the very least," Jean-Paul says warmly, returning his hand to his pocket. "Especially in light of what happened in Sacramento. You are already doing the right things," he notes to Laura. "But it should not just be the two of you doing it. You have to sleep sometime."
*
Laura stuffs her free hand in her pocket. "Every couple of weeks at least," she replies, but in a tone that agrees with his assessment. After all, he did say *sometime*. "Perhaps. We are not the only ones that look out for everyone. But perhaps it would make sense if someone organized it." Not her, obviously. Their landlady, however… It's a thought.
*
"Mama Mae would do it if we asked." Lucy is oddly fond of their looming, housedress-wearing, shotgun-toting landlady. "You know she doesn't allow trouble on her block. I worry about some of our people but it might be good if more of them felt that something was being done. It's a good idea."
*
"Organization and communication will be what give you the edge over the mouth-breathers who come here to cause trouble, even more than powers." Jean-Paul sounds as if he speaks from experience. That, or he's very sure of himself. Perhaps both. "Take care of one another. As long as you do that, you will come through it all just fine."