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Four books are piled upon a desk in the library as Remy, for the first period of his life, is taking something with deep interest. The idea of getting his GED has appealed to him and motivated him ever since the issue with the license he had applied for. Currently he's studying Math, fractions specifically, and is doing some practice tests to ensure he understands the idea of reducing.
*
Naturally, checking up on the students, would be students, general people who happen to live in the Mansion was Jean's self imposed job. So it wasn't any wonder that eventually that she'd be knocking upon Remy's door, a quick rapping of her knuckles upon the surface of the door. "Remy?" Jean calls out, never having met the man, but the file was in her hand.. well, tucked beneath her arm. Charles really didn't fill those things out well. She needed more information. "Mr.. La-boo?"
*
CHANGE THE LIBRARY TO IN REMY'S ROOM SO JEANS POSE FITS
*
"Yeah, in here," Remy replies as he's finishing up one last problem. He checks his breast pocket for his cigarettes and goes from the chair to the door, opening, and head jerking a bit as Jean is behind there. He hasn't seen her before. He'd remember it.
"Name's Le-bow, chere. T'what dah owe de pleasure?"
*
She doesn't reach for the door, instead she waits for it to be opened for her. It was only polite, right? So once it was opened, she gives him a beaming, bright smile, even so much as to lift upon the tips of her toes, landing back again upon the flat of her feet. Which were barefoot. Naturally.
"Le..bow. Leb.. Hi. Anyways, I just wanted to go over some pape.. dah? What.. right. I just wanted to go over some paperwork with you, I don't think the Professor filled it out correctly. Mind if I come in and sit?"
*
"Please do, chere. Make y'self at home." Remy opens the door wider and as Jean enters she'll smell the odors of fine bourbon and cheap cigarettes. He doesn't smoke in the room, but his clothing reeks pretty bad. Anyways, the room is mostly neat, and there, lying on the bed, is a baby kitten with black and white coloring. "Dat Oliver, over dere. Ahm gun have a drink. Y'wanna drink?"
*
With a slight nod, she steps past the threshold, her nose immediately wrinkling but attempting to fix her face with another smile. Christ. So he definitely wasn't a teeny-bopper, even though she's possibly seen fifteen year olds smoke a pack a day. But the drink? "Hello Oliver.." Jean says quietly, taking those few steps to kneel in front of the kitten, her eyes narrowing just a touch so she could bond with the kitten through mental words alone. "No thank you. I'm trying to quit."
Jokes! Granted it was a horrible one, but it allows her a moment to relax and laugh a little, her hand reaching out to lightly pet Oliver's head. "First things first. I'm Jean. Assistant.. Headmaster to the school. No titles. Paperwork aside, I really came to see how you were adjusting here. Are you doing alright?"
*
Remy reaches for the bottle and pours himself a liberal amount of bourbon before replacing the cap slowly as he looks to Jean and twists the cap on. He sets it down with a sharp clink of glass on wood before he slumps down into his recliner. "D'institute? Ya, ah can't complain. Nice out here and de folks is good company. Even gettin' started on mah education. S'alright."
*
Jean lifts from the floor, settling on the bed as she was told to, her legs crossed at the ankles with both hands, and folder upon her lap. "Just alright?" She asks, one brow lifting. "Not.. the best thing ever? Eye opening? Jarring? Confusing? Just.. alright?"
*
"Ain't no secret de folks I used to run wit, and ah ain't made no 'xcuses bout my past in Nawlins. It's pretty alright, yeah," Remy replies and he brings his glass up to his lips. "How m'I spose to respond, chere? Got some jazz hands ere somewhere if dat what yer lookin' for, Miss Jean."
*
"I think it is, for most of the people here." Jean states. "Though I do know that most of the people who do know, do not blame you, or are weary of you." She reaches into her pocket to retrieve a coin, then rolls it within her fingers atop of her knuckles. It does a crawl, an odd one, obviously influenced by something else other than her movements. "I'm not looking for jazz hands, just the truth. How you really feel about this place. Any uncertainties that need to be put to bed. Any questions that you need answering. That sort of thing."
*
"Ah do have a few questions. How long till I get de key for downstairs? Why's errybody so mean to that Summers kid? And which are the easy girls?" Remy says, the last obviously being a joke. He chuckles at it as he takes a pull from his glass.
*
"What do you mean, downstairs? There's nothing down there." Jedi mind-tricks aside, she gives a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Per Logan, who you'd probably meet one day, everyone thinks that he has a stick up his ass. Pardon my language. I'm just repeating." She sniffs faintly. "I personally think that he's just misunderstood, but that's neither here nor there. And I'm sure that if you were serious, which quite possibly in a slight way you are.. the easy girls will just come to you or look for a reason to be in your space." She glances down towards the kitten, then gives him a light tickle upon the side. "Ask Oliver. He can sniff them out."
*
"Y'know what ahm talkin' bout. And if you know jack about me, you'll know dat you want me down dere. Ahm growin' antsy. Don't make me go join up wit someone else," Remy replies, taking a large swallow from the drink and leaving just a one more sip left. "Maybe dey jus' come on up to ole Remy's room, you say?" He shrugs, "Like huntin' at a farm."
*
"You know that isn't my call. Or you should know, either way." The file was soon tossed aside, not hard but enough for the gust of wind to startle the poor kitten to make him run away. Her knee lifts as her elbow plants upon it, her fingers curling into a slight fist to allow her chin to rest upon it. "As it stands, I'm not down there. I'm out, doing my own thing. Perhaps you could follow suit, but if being on a 'team' is where you want to be.." Her shoulders shrug. "Lead or follow, which is your vice?"
But with that said, Jean's expression goes oddly flat. "If young and impressionable girls is what you like. Then yes. Hunting at a farm. But I'm sure you're aware that we're not a mutant whorehouse."
*
"Ahm jus' lookin' for a gal to pass the time wit. Ole Remy jus' have his heart broken an' all dat. I'm sure y'could imagine. Young as y'are and as fair, you sure ain't got no real experience dere, but I'm sure you got enough imagination and empathy," Remy says with a chuckle. "Some of y'all a bit prickly."
"Lead. Follow. Ah dun both."
*
Jean shakes her head. "It's really not the best way to handle things.." Her jaw tenses, and even as she looks down, her foot begins to swing ever so idly. "Heartbreak comes in different forms, but you're right. I've never really experienced it for myself." She nods her head faintly, then slowly stands, turning to pick up the folder. "You're probably the first person that I outright said anything in depth to this about. Maybe you've heard it from someone else about what goes on down here. Maybe you've heard the rants from that mad blue woman, or.. I don't know, someone just mentioned it and thought you'd be a good fit. But that Scott person you asked about? You have to find him. He's team leader."
*
"Talk t'ole Scotty. Got it," Remy says with a smile, finishing off his drink. "If ya decide ya wanna, you jus' keep me posted. I figure ah could find the time and de inclination." He sighs, "Callin' Raven mad is an ova-simplification. Make y'all sleep betta at night, but dat dun mean it true."
*
"No.. I'm sure it'll happen soon enough by my own hands." She smiles a little, then approaches him with the file. "Do me a favor and fill that out for me?" Whether he takes it or not, she sighs a little. "It's the only way to rationalize it, right? For us to do what we do, someones reputation has to suffer. In the end, we have to look as if we are angels, and she is of the dark. I don't know if most realize that we're .." She hesitates for a moment, then speaks. "..working for the same goal. Just, different." Her head bobs a little, then she smiles. "Keep that to yourself."
*
"Sorry, chere. No can do," Remy replies with a hand dismissively. "Ole Rem don't read so good. Y'gun haveta read it to me, fill it out for yo'self, or jus' go witout," he adds with a shrug of his shoulders. He grins as she sort of sounds like she's come from his team on all of this. "Talkin' to dat lil hottie Lorna, she be tinkin' de same. Ole Remy jus' tink dat dese hard questions wit no simple, black or white answers."
*
Jean makes a light hiss of a noise. "Figures. I'll tutor you." She was looking to teach, why not start there, right? "Lorna?" Jean's eye slightly twitches, and she begins to laugh just a little. "Yeaaaah…" She takes a step back, then heads towards the door. "If you really think about it, they aren't really hard questions at all. It's a matter of perception, and some people don't want to see outside the box that they've resigned themselves to." Easy peasy.
*
"What's yer problem wit Lorna?" Remy asks, looking up at her. He almost waved, but apparently is interested to see what the beef is. "She say she gun tutor ole Remy too. So does Scott. Helpful group, you Xavier's Children are."
*
Jean squints an eye. "Nothing. I do think she'll get you killed though." With that, she leaves it be, then reaches up a hand to scratch her head. "Alright, they'll tutor you. So you'll be in good hands. We're helpful, alright. But it's only because we want to see you better yourself, if nothing at all. Not to mention, maybe you can teach us a thing or to in the meanwhile. Yeah?" With her heading to the door, she lifts her hand to give a brief wave. "Just leave the paperwork there, I'll brain-scan you later and fill it out myself." Was she joking? Hard to tell..
*
"Get me killed, huh?" Remy does not seem impressed or particularly worried. Perhaps that will be his downfall. Perhaps. "Yeah, dat fine. Be careful where y'go in dere, do. Might not like what ya find."