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Lucian beats a quick retreat and Jay's brows arch gently, his head turning to trail the fellow for a curious moment, thinking on those words. Turning back a moment later, somewhat lost for an instant, he blinks back and smiles apologetically to Ninette. An apology for being left with him, or for the man she was talking to leaving, it's hard to say. "Sorry, ma'am. Ah was just sayin' Ah felt like ah was dwarfed in style compared to yerself an Mister Lucian. That's all. It was a compliment. Nervous compliment." Smiling gently, admiting to his bashfulness and uncertainty in this place.
*
Ninette watches Lucian go, and she tilts her head. Her features are a perfect mask of polite interest. Very little of what she's thinking gets out. Seen, not heard. She turns her attention back to Jay, and perhaps it's just not the kind of night to be left alone, because she comes to sit beside him. "Thank you," she says with a small smile. "We do our best. Monsieur Lucian is very much a trendsetter." And she knows she looks good. She puts too much effort into it not to. "I didn't get your name," she adds. "I am Ninette." She offers her hand to him, angled for a kiss, not a shake.
*
The fancy lady with the accent stands and comes to sit beside Jay. Rain-soaked,formerly garbag bag wearing Jay. Suddenly there's a moment where he tries to figure out if he smells like wet feathers or not, trying to act casual while he nurses the least fancy of all drinksa beerthat he hasnt even taken a drink from yet. Aside from straightening up slightly, Jay manages to play it cool and only offers her a gentle smile of welcome. "Yeah Ah can see that. He's out there in the ether some, but it suits him. You two must go out an' folks just fall in front 'a' ya so yer feet don't gotta touch the ground." Jay's smile curves some at his own ridiculous joke. But it seems genuine, not in the least sharp or false. Met with the odd hand gesture, Jay stares at a moment before very carefully taking it. Gentlemanly, his fingers soft and warm as they curl around Ninette's. Tentatively and slow so she can pull away at any moment, the young man leans down, peering up all along through scattered red lengths of hair to Ninette as he very politely tries a peck on her knuckles. All very courtly and chaste on his end. Unpracticed. "Mah name is Jay, Miss Ninette."
*
"We don't run in the same circles too often," Ninette says, "He's my boss, actually." She nods toward the stage. "I sing for him." She watches him, head canted just so, as he presses a kiss to her hand. The man is rather charming in his way, so painfully sincere. This place will eat him alive. "Jay," she says, only with that accent, it sounds more like 'zhay.' "It is a pleasure." She looks around the club, and she admits, "I was thinking of going for a walk, actually, if the weather has let up."
*
Oh, it very likely will! Jay seems very vaguely aware of this fact, but still, he sits. Clearly, he sticks out like a sore thumb, but he tries new things, and he has a tie here.
Still, his eyes brighten when Ninette gestures to the stage, the young man twisting to view the stage, then back to the fancy lady, his pleasant expression brightening to genuine interest. "You sing? Well, Miss, if you sing half as pretty as you look, must leave the cats here speechless." Pallid fingers lift in an absent minded flick, dextrous fingers fanning out. "Ah know another French girl who sings as well. They ain't kiddin' when they say France is the culture center of the world, seems." Sweeping comments about countries commonplace enough, Jay falls into that trap yet again. "Ah hope to catch yer performance some time. Live music is where it's at." A quick glance toward the door when she mentions walking. "Oh! Ah'm sorry. Ah didn't mean keep you." He doesnt understand that it was an /invitation/.
*
Ninette's smile broadens, and she lowers her gaze. It may be a practice gesture of modesty she doesn't really have, but the pleasure in it isn't feigned. Who doesn't love praise? "Yes, you will have to come some night I am singing, and you will have to tell me." Her eyes dance as she returns her hand to her martini glass, and she adds, "If you can find your voice."
She hesitates, looks at Jay, and she considers. He's not just sweet, he's innocent. If she were a kinder soul, she would send him on his way. However, it's not a night she wants to spend alone or dealing with the men who normally try to capture her attention. So she gently, patiently, says, "If I might find someone to accompany me. The streets aren't safe for a lady alone at night."
*
Jay whispers a gentle chuckle, barely sounding out and certainly not at all over the din of the club, but his shoulders shake with it anyway. He got that joke! Charmed by it, utterly, the young man claps a hand to his chest. "Well, if Ah cant, you'll just have to fergive me if Ah'm outright sobbin'. Quickest way t'strip me of mah masculinity is a beautiful lady singin'." It doesn't /seem/ like lip service, but who can tell?
The patient, gentle reminder has Jay straightening up again, the bulge under his shirt puffing up slightly at his faux pas. He scrambles a touch when he realizes he missed the hint. "Oh! Lord, forgive me. Would you like some company, Miss Ninette? It doesn't look like mah friend is showin' up tonight, and she'd understand."
*
Ninette offers Jay a thin-lipped smile, and she tilts her head toward the door. "Shall we?" she asks in that lilting accent. At the door, all she has to collect is a lovely white fur coat that falls the same length of her mini-mini-dress. "Thank you for being such a gentleman, Jay. I'm afraid not everyone on the streets is like you." Then again, for all she knows, Jay could be a serial killer, yet she doesn't seem worried.
*
It's true, there are all kinds of creepy crawlies about time. Things with fangs and claws and loose morals. The kid with the flexible hump under his shirt and the southern good-ol-boy accent doesn't seem like the likeliest of candidates, however.
Sliding off of his stool swiftly to take up post at Ninette's side, the young man in casual denim and black jeans makes one hell of an impression next to the finely groomed lady in her furs and mini-mini-dress as they head to the door. "It's my pleasure, Miss Ninette. I couldn't live with myself if anything came of you on my account. Maybe it's just my new impression of such a big city, but this place sure doesn't seem like the kind of place anyone should be walkin' around alone in." That doesn't stop him, mind you, but not everyone has a deathwish. Jay swiftly tries to take a few steps ahead to open the door for Ninette.
Ninette inclines her head to Jay graciously and steps through the doorway into the night. It's a cool evening, but the lady in her fur shows no signs of being bothered by it. "It is especially dangerous for some people, more than others." She glances to Jay, to the hump at his back, then to his face to meet his eyes. "One has to be careful, no?"
Jay smiles, closed lipped and polite as Ninette steps through the door, inclining his head in the way where one could just about picture him touching the brim of a cowboy hat as he murmurs a soft 'ma'am' of acknowledgement. Catching up with a quick couple of long strides, Jay takes the road-side of the sidewalk because that's what his daddy taught him.
*
Unbothered by the cool night's air as well, or at least unwilling to show it, Jay exchanges looks with Ninette and smiles bashfully, glancing downwards a moment, then ahead again. The lump on his back self-consciously flattens more, deflating as it compresses and conforms more to his back. Though that does nothing for the long feathers that hang in two tails down the backs of his legs, sweeping the sidewalk as his flip-flops click along. "Yes, Miss Ninette. Ah suppose some do. Ah hope thatuhdoesn't bother you?" After all, she looks perfectly normal.
Ninette approves of Jay's manners. His daddy deserves kudos. Jay's rewarded with a smile and a slow blink, like a cat saying 'we're cool' only with more fluttering of lashes. She takes up a confident stride, unhurried, with a sway in her hips.
*
When Jay mentions being bothered, her expression turns somewhat sad, and she holds up a delicate hand. The air around them both grows colder, immediately and dramatically. With a turn of her hand, frost skirls off her fingers. The white fuzz of it gathering on her painted nails doesn't seem to trouble her. "No," she says, "it does not bother me."
The night turns cold and Jay may be 'aw shucks' oblivious sometimes, but the dancing dust of frost in the air as it spins around Ninette's poised fingers, decorating her nails with a splash of hore is more than enough for him to catch on. Relief paints the young man's expression, but only after a brightening of awe makes his lips part in silence for a lengthy moment. Moss-green eyes warm as they reach to try to find Ninette's again, instantly more at ease. Kin.
"Ah am jazzed to hear that Miss Ninette." The feathers streamlining behind Jay's legs twitch together in a muted shiver, though not from the cold; from excitement. "Have you been in town fer long? Ah'm a little surprised Ah haven't run into you, yet. Ah'd remember a lady with yer poise."
*
Ninette lets her hand drop, and the frost and cold fade away. "For a year," she says, "but I have kept to myself. It's difficult to come to terms with, no? But it's a lonely existence, and I think I am ready to meet others like us. I've never had a sense of community." She glances to Jay again, assessing, before she says, "In Paris, they called me Dame d'Hiver (dom de-VAY). I never killed anyone but there were people who tried to hurt me, and I defended myself. The rumors painted me as a villain." She shrugs a shoulder. "But what's done is done."
*
A sad little smile of understanding, Jay nods several times to what Ninette has to say, explaining her way here and her separation. "It's funny how folks react to things that are different. Back home they don't really like anyone who ain't white, Baptist, much less…well." Jay arches his brows and casts another smile to the lady he strolls with. "Every one of mah brothers an' sisters so far turned out like us, but we're the only family in town like that. It's been…hard. An' the papers an' rumors always skew it. Ah can't blame ya fer keepin' a low profile. I dig it." He inhales a breath of night air deeply and turns his eyes skyward. "Dom dee vay," Jay repeats in his heavy southern lean, then queries gently. "That sounds beautiful, but what's it mean?"
*
Ninette smiles despite herself and bows her head, the glossy waves of her blonde hair falling to frame her face. "Thank you," she says. "I suppose if they're going to name me, at least it's a nice name. It means Lady Winter. I can freeze things and cause it to be cold. A wry statement of my circumstances." She pauses, then adds, "My father owned a freon company. He helped to make freezers."
*
Slowly, Jay's smile reappears again as Ninette explains her name, and further over her father's business. A soft whisper of sound likely meant to be a chuckle but didn't quite make it that far out of the mild young man, Jay shakes his head gently and faces forward. "God's got a funny sense of humor. Mah daddy was a coal miner, ah keep waitin' fer one of us to be a firestarter or somesuch. Nobody yet, though mah older brother is rocket-propelled. It's close." Jay thinks on it a few moments longer, scooping a hand through his hair in a habitual gesture. "Lady Winter. That is a beautiful name. It suits you. You've got this grace about you, Ah hope you don't mind me bein' so bold, it's just obvious. Yer lahke this frost sprite, cause yer tiny and petite and lovely, but everythin' you do mellows out this smooth grace that's lahke…regal." Jay turns his head back to the petite blond women beside him, all gentle warmth. "Lady Winter is perfect. Make it yers. That's nothin' you need t'hide from."
*
Ninette's smile broadens. "You are telling me things I like to hear," she tells him. "Thank you." Then she glances to him speculatively. "I think you're rather handsome. Your eyes are lovely." But it's not a race to see who can be the most complimentary, and she leaves it at that for now. Laughter ripples in her melodic voice. "A frost sprite. Like a fairy. As for regality, if I have it, it is because I told myself one day no more cowering, no more being afraid." She taps a fingertip to her matte red lips. "What do they call you? Do you have another name?"
*
Cheeks as white as, well, snow, color a couple shades closer to Jay's natural hair color when Ninette compliments him. Another scoop of his hand through his hair and sheepish smile as he looks forward. "Thank you. Scottish blood runs true, even if it is one outa ten." Jay jokes dumbly and looks down at his feet a moment as his hands slip back into his pockets.
Shifting away from the complimentary comentary, Jay nods, "Yeah, like a pixie or somethin'. But the rest of it's important. Ah was just talkin' to a friend of mine who's strugglin' with fear, too. He doesn't, uh, 'pass' so well, but there's always strength in numbers."
The question over his other name casts a gentle, far away smile over the young man's face. Eyes warm, but there's something heavy and deep in the expression. Something he tries to lighten by playfully asking. "Ah do. But what would you call me, you think? Ah'm talkin' too much."
*
"I would call you Angel," Ninette says. "I know it's probably predictable, but you're helping me tonight to keep me safe." She pauses, then adds, "And the others who might try to intimidate me." That frost packs a punch. "So I am biased. You're a gentleman."
She admits, "I'm lucky it's not noticeable. I could go on indefinitely and simply not use my powers, and no one would know. That's what I've been doing, but it's hard to meet people knowing you can never be your true self with them."
*
Amusement rather than disapproval, Jay's eyes turn into little green crescents when Ninette picks that name. He nods a few times in understanding, that color holding strong in his cheeks, ears warm with it when she expands the meaning to their walk. "Well, ma'am, Ah certainly try to be one. Thank you fer sayin' so. Angel is a good name, but there's also someone m'brother told me about who goes by that, so Ah didn't want to step on anyone's toes. Besides, red ain't exactly a color anyone associates with angels unless they're fallen." Amusingly oblivious considering the club they just came from. He doesn't come back around to what his name actually is. Distracted by the conversation.
Listening peacefully, Jay nods in a rhythm counter to his steps. "Ah imagine so. Ah do got the luxury of never havin' t'be afraid someone's gonna find out and suddenly decide they don't wanna be around me." Always on the bright side, Jay? "All mah other siblin's look normal, an' Ah remember when mah little brother first started t'develop. He came home pissed as a bee tryin' t'sting an armadillo. His girlfriend broke it off with him because he told her. Saddest thing."
*
Ninette laughs softly at Jay's delightful colloquialism. It's short-lived, however, and she says, "That's too bad. I do understand their fear, though. We're dangerous, and we can't all be controlled. People are wise to fear what they can't control, but if they can't master their fear, they live at its whim." She shakes her head. "And who pays for that, hmm?" She might have heard Magneto speak once or twice, even if she's never met the man.
"What about you?" she asks with a sly glance. "Do you have a lady friend who understands you and isn't afraid? I find it hard to believe a gentleman like you doesn't."
*
Jay shrugs gently with a languid roll of one shoulder, then casts a sidelong glance to Ninette to try to make sure she didn't see the gesture, then continues on in a soft tone, "Ah don't know. People can't be controlled, in general, but those are individual choices. We train killers every day t'go to wars for us, but they don't hurt folks unless ordered. Yeah, a lot of us find out we got powers in bad situations and folks can get hurt cause they don't exactly cover what happens if ya can suddenly shoot lightnin' outa yer fingers in home ec, but that means we need more education an' community on how to deal with that stuff. Support. Not…separation." Empathy. Always, always empathy with Jay. "You been down to mutant town, Miss Ninette? Full of folks who were kicked outa their families an' can't get a job because they got scales or wings or horns, or whatever." Jay sighs and purses his lips together gently. "Ah gotta believe that if folk had a chance, they'd choose to do good. Everyone just wants to…live, you dig? Everyone wants that American promise." He sighs gently, a worried little frown touching his youthful face, troubled for a few passing moments.
Until the topic changes and Jay finds himself blinking a couple of times back to Ninette. Feathers shiver and whisper softly behind him; his wings little tattle tales while Jay tries to play it cool. "Ah'm sorry to say Ah don't, Miss Ninette. Ah've only been in town about a month an' keep to myself most days. Everyone here's so much more, ah…worldly an' smart. Ladies here are beautiful." A fair hand gestures outward kindly toward Ninette herself, casting a crooked little smile her way. "Ah can't really compare. What about yerself? You must have a gent you like to spend time with. Who knows ya."
*
If Ninette saw, she says nothing. She shakes her head and says, "I've not been there, no." Mutant Town isn't the greatest neighborhood, and Ninette is walking toward the Upper East Side. "I want to believe people will do the right thing," she says, "but I've seen so much evil perpetrated by arrogance and fear."
She shakes her head, and she laughs softly as she says, "I'm single." Then, "But why do you discount yourself so easily? Why is it you don't deserve a woman who's beautiful? Do not cast yourself as the lesser, Jay." She gives a toss of her head and her blonde waves cascade into place. You are worthy, so be worthy."
*
"Ah understand what you mean, Miss Ninette," Jay murmurs softly when she says she's seen evil. Arrogance and fear. Oh yes. He understands this. Another soft whisper of feathers as his whings shiver down his back. "Ah suppose Ah hope fer better fer people. It starts with us. So many mutants showin' up every day now." He looks to her, smiling softly. Idealistic, good guy Jay. "We're not alone. We get t'set the new pace. Even if…it's pretty terrifyin'." His smile curves a hint higher.
Blowing out a gentle breath, Jay whispers another laugh and looks forward again to the mention of relationships. "Ah suppose it's easy t'say that Ah just haven't found mah place here, yet. Nobody quite willin' to take that plunge." Idly, his hand lifts up and taps pallid fingertips in the center of his own chest. "Ah had m'heart broken not so long ago. Ah'm sort of holdin' on to that feelin'. It sounds nuts, but if heartache's the last bit of her Ah get, Ah'm gonna hold on to it."
*
"I had my heart broken once," Ninette says, her too looking straight ahead as they walk. "I am perhaps colder than you are, monsieur. I froze him out, and if there were any further way he could be gone…" She smiles faintly. "Well, let's just say I try not to think of him too often."
She bows her head, and for all that she doesn't think about him, in the moment, she looks less like a queen and more like a hurt little girl, eyes staring at the ground, and her throat works as she swallows. It's a fleeting thing, and she lifts her head again. "I've learned one must protect one's heart as though it were one's most precious possession."
*
"Ah don't know if yer colder, Miss Ninette," Jay responds kindly, his hands slipping into his pockets, voice remaining very level. Very level as he stares ahead. "She died. Ah didn't have any reason t'freeze her out. Ah'm sure whoever done you wrong deserves what you give them every bit." A gentle smile, though lacking that warmth that was with him moments earlier. "Ah'd like to say Ah agree, cause Ah do, but Ah can't seem to not give mine away at every turn, just a little bit. Ah'm a musician. It comes with the territory a little bit."
*
"I'm sorry," Ninette says, and she lays a hand lightly on Jay's arm, looking to him. "It's hard to get over someone you love has died. When my father passed, it was like the world fell away." She smiles, then. "You're a musician? I sing at the club. What do you play?"
*
The contact is met with an obligatory sort of return gesture, reaching over to gently rest his warm hand over Ninette's, a pale smile cast in her direction. "Thanks. Ah'm sorry to hear about yer father. It's hard when a parent goes. It's like…you've depended on 'em yer whole life and suddenly one day they're not nearly as indestructable as you thought." A corner of his mouth twitches upward mirthlessly. "It's a rough wake up."
Quickly latching on to more pleasant subjects, Jay's smile turns less crooked and more genuine, filling him with pleasure. "You mentioned you sang. Ah want to know when yer next gig is so Ah can hear you." Realizing his hand still rests over Ninette's, Jay apologizes with a tip of his head and slides his hand away. "Ah play a bunch of things, but mostly vocals an' guitar. Ah had a band back home, we did a little tourin', small gigs, county fairs and the like. Opened for a fer folks, nobody real big."
*
"I was sixteen," Ninette says with a soft sigh, then laughs a little without mirth. "I've learned how to make it on my own, but I wish I didn't have to sometimes." She gives his arm a squeeze. Then Jay's hand falls away and she lets hers do the same. "I sing tomorrow night," she says. "Eight o'clock is when my set starts." She sings a little snippet of something in French, and her voice is like a nightingale's, sweet and pure.
"I would like to hear you play sometime," she says. "It's not such a small thing, to get gigs like that. I've never opened for anyone. I've only ever sang in clubs."
*
"Everyone needs someone sometimes. We lost my dad when Ah was about that age, too. I get it," Jay consoles softly, but his voice rings genuine and true. And when she sings? He may not know french, but he knows music, and delights over it with a smile that may not stretch far, but seems endeared and entranced all at once. "Ah would like nothin' more than to come hear you sing. That was beautiful. Yer voice is so /clear/, that's amazin'."
The mention of hearing him play is given a bashful smile and tip of his head to the side. "Sometimes Ah play down at the Eight Ball. It's a mutant bar. They got an open mic night there sometimes. Ah also got a reoccurin' gig down at mah friend's place, playin' out in his courtyard. It's all covers and stuff, nothin' original, but Ah have fun. Lets me stay sharp, you know? Without the rest of mah band, kind of wingin' it on mah own." Modest, but he /loves/ his art, through and through. "The club scene is so choice, though. Beautiful folks doin' beautiful things. That's gotta be dazzlin'."
*
Ninette smiles, and it's a real smile, genuine and reflected in her green eyes. "I've never been to the Eight Ball, perhaps I'll go there some night when you're playing?" When they've walked awhile, they come to the walkway leading up to a rather posh building. "This is where I live," she says, coming to a stop. She lifts her head and points all the way to the building's top. "Right up there."
She pauses then asks, "Would you like to come up? I can make coffee." She knows what that's code for, but sometimes one can just want to have coffee with someone, right? She looks to Jay, head tilting inquisitively.
*
"It's not too fancy, but you might like it," Jay hazards softly, more or less just trying to give her the option of making those connections she mentioned wanting. "And…maybe if you're up for it afterward, we can check out mah friends restaurant nearby? He cooks like a devil, it's so good you swear he sold his soul fer it." Bringing it back to a casual offering.
He slows and looks up at the building she's stopped in front of. Brows loft upwards. Wow. "Nice place." Following the gesture all the way to the top where she points, a smile touches his expression. Coffee? This late? They must have different idioms where he's from, but there's a clear moment of debate in Jay's expression that has nothing to do with the lady next to him and his opinions on her.
At the end of that short debate, Jay smiles gently and nods with no ulterior motives. "Ah'd love to, Miss Ninette." Then hops to it and quickly walks to the door to try to open it up for her. Assuming there's no lock on the main door.