1964-02-06 - Brain Trust
Summary: Jean and Able pour over books and speak about their shared experiences and lack of knowledge.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
able jean 

Someone's been doing a lot of reading. At length, too. Able has taken over a circular table large enough for four people if each brought a modest amount of reading material. At this point, one person would be lucky to squeeze in. The space has been taken up by a variety of medical texts. It seems that he's referencing thick tomes written in German and Japanese against Grey's Anatomy and a few encyclopedia volumes.

He pushes himself a few inches back from the table and reaches up to massage the bridge of his nose with finger and thumb. Seems like he's been at this for a while. His suit jacket is tossed across one of the vacant chairs, his tie has been loosened, and his sleeves have been double-rolled.




YAY COLLEGE! It was -so- huge!

If anyone could feel or sense the emotions that draw from Jean that would be the first thing they would feel. Complete excitement. She was thrilled. She was actually going to school and holy cow were there -so- many people from all walks of life and the teachers were so awesome

(Editors note: For the sake and sanity of the roleplay partner, we'll refrain from using run-on sentences.)

But it seems as if she wasn't the only one who wanted to burn the text book oil, glancing towards Able with a warm smile, strutting past him as if she knew exactly where it was she needed to go, stopping with her hands upon her hips which causes her ponytail to bounce happily. And.. she stops. It wasn't.. there.. With a turn and approach to the table, Jean perks up with a wave of her hand. "Excuse me? Do you have Grey's Anatomy?"


One of the encylopedias, the 'L' volume, is opened to an entry titled 'leptin.' His copy of Gray's has been bookmarked partway through a detailed description of the human endocrine system. The other texts reference supplementary information. The nervous system. Metabolic irregularities. Skeletal structure. He's got quite the research project on his hands.

He may be a scientist by trade, but he's a gentleman by nature. As such, a little strutting doesn't elude his senses, but he still stands when the lady approaches. There's an instinctive tightening of his tie, as well. He bobs a brief nod and a half-smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. "I do," he admits. "But it's rather thoroughly in use. I'd be willing to share, though."


The way he stands catches her a little off guard, Jean's brows lowering into a slight frown, the book she did have in her hand clutched against her chest as she turns just partly away from the man. He was tall, seemed almost professional, and very .. well..

"Oh.." She says quietly, looking around a touch until he offers to share. "Don't you think that's a little bit odd, though? What if I'm looking at something else and you want to see something different. How can we share two parts of a thing that's bound by another to make it whole?" But, she wasn't going to refuse, she pulls up a chair right in front of the book, slightly careful at moving his own out of the way.

"I just want to look at the brain functions. So I shouldn't be too long."


"It's not as if I don't have plenty of things to keep myself occupied." There's a subtle wave in the direction of the other half-dozen textbooks spread out in front of Able. "Please, help yourself. If I find myself in terrible need, I may ask to re-borrow it."

Once Jean has chosen a seat, he retakes his own and bobs a small nod in her direction. A thin, spidery finger trails down the open pages of a medical text written in German until he reaches the passage where he left off. When he speaks, it's without looking up. "Cerebral mechanics, eh? Interesting subject."


Jean does glance around the area, her brows raising in mild surprise as she gives a faint shrug of her head. "So be it." She was nice enough, flipping through the pages, stopping upon the subject of choice as she begins to scan. "Cerebral mecha.. oh! Yes. Well, I do plan on being a psychologist one day. And I do think that part of that entails reading what makes the brain work. In excruciating detail."

Not to mention that she was a telepath..

"If I could become a doctor along the way, I wouldn't mind that either." She looks over towards the man. "Are you a doctor? Or an instructor? You're obviously not a student, you're dressed -way- too well."


The series of observations elicit a quiet chuckle from the man in question. "I'll take that as a compliment." Now Able glances up, but only briefly. "I've been all of the above at one point or another," he elaborates. "I'm a doctor by trade, but I studied and taught at Freiburg before I emigrated. And a man of science is always a student. Or a woman of science, to be fair."

His German accent isn't exactly obvious, but the admission makes it easier to identify the Eastern European lilt to his voice. Rather than defensive or challenging, he's calm and accepting when it comes to his admission.


"But how can you fit so much into so little time?" She asks, giving him a sidelong glance. "You're.. well, not that much older than me it looks like. Unless you age really well." So it was a compliment! Jean doesn't try to read him or search for knowledge, it was much more fun without knowing. But she does lean over a touch to hold out her hand for a shake. "I'm Jean. Jean Grey. Student of.. science!" And a very happy student at that!


Able's eyes are already back on his literature, but this time it's the Encyclopedia Britannica. The 'leptin' entry again. When he pauses his reading, he seems pleased rather than irritated at the distraction. After a moment's pause, he closes the book and holds a hand out to take Jean's. "Able. Just Able." He smirks at his own tiny joke. "You have an obvious and admirable thirst for knowledge, Ms. Grey. And you're right about one thing. I do age well."

His hand is smooth, as if he's never spent a day performing honest labor or anything like it. When he pulls back, he considers his counterpart with a slight tilting of his head. "Good genes," he finally admits. "Plus efficient time management and a casual disdain where sleep is concerned. I'm a student of… everything, I suppose. And you? Are you here in search of answers to a particular question?"


The hand that was outstretched was grasped ever so gently, Jean moving it up and down just as she was taught, slowly releasing it before looking at her own hand. Her fingers curl to feel if she herself had any callouses, but her hands were just as smooth as his, if not a little bit bonier. Someone doesn't eat as much as they should.

"You don't sleep?" She asks quietly. "I don't either." Though as to why, it remains unknown. She turns back to her own literature, then gives a slight shrug of her shoulders. "I just want to know what triggers what." She states, turning towards him again to gesture with a curl of her fingers. "Like, what center controls pain. Which nerve endings control knowledge or thought, love or any other weird and random emotion that we feel. What synapses are in play when we dream, you know?"


"To sleep, perchance to dream -ay, there's the rub. For in this sleep of death what dreams may come…" Able's recitation is flawless. Too flawless; it lacks the proper emotion to be moving. He lets out a slow breath and shrugs. "I'm not sure anyone will ever be able to nail down the details when it comes to the emotions that motivate us. Myself least of all."

Rather than self-depreciating, his statement is matter of fact. Another handful of heartbeats pass before he offers a better explanation. "I've never been particularly good with all of that. I'd like to be, but I'm better with situations that are logically quantifiable."


Jean watches him curiously, her expression soon falling into a certain blankness falling upon her features. It was clear that she didn't understand that it was a quote, but her eyes do widen considerably as she leans upon the table to stare. "That's lovely." She says, even though he lacks the proper emotion, she lacks the proper social cues to pick it up.

"You see, and that's why I'm looking at this stuff. So I could. I guess it's like a social or emotional experiment for me."

She watches him once more, then turns her gaze towards the book. "Numbers and facts. There's nothing wrong with that."


Most people would shy away from a stare of that magnitude, or at least offer a blush. Instead, Able returns it with one of his own. His is direct, even piercing, and he maintains it long after most people would look away. Jean's verbal and visual response sparks a particular sort of recognition. "I understand. Too well. In a way, every minute is a social or emotional experiment for me."

Now there's a small smile, one that's a bit rueful. "I live numbers and facts. I best understand situations that are reactions to an action, or actions that inspire a reaction. The subtlety of civilized society sometimes eludes me."


"Me too." Both of them comiserate, but Jean does it quietly. It was almost like a slump back into her chair. "Though, I do find myself relying on my emotions a lot more than not." She says honestly. "Like my words are too.." She glances up towards the sky, her head tilting left and right as she tries to figure out the proper wording. "..passionate and intense and off-putting." She smiles sadly. "Or.. dumb. I'm not the smartest person in the world."

She clears her throat then, leaning forward to flick the page to the next item. "I don't understand what you've just said, but I've spent most of my life in a mental hospital. I've seen the extreme."


Though it's rare for him to show anything but his customarily cold exterior, this is one of the occasions where Able allows himself to tell the truth. To be vulnerable, even. He clears his throat before he explains himself a bit better. "I also spent a portion of my life in institutions. Not mental hospitals, but ones that weren't any more pleasant or forgiving. I'm the extreme that you've seen."

It's another calm, confident confession. In this situation he has nothing to hide. He takes a pause to wet his lips with the tip of his tongue before he continues. "For what comfort it's worth, I don't think you're unintelligent or off-putting. I find your passion and honesty to be refreshing. Anyone who can't appreciate it is most likely not worth your time. If you ever want me to better explain something I've said, all you have to do is ask. I'll be happy to oblige."


Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License