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One would not think that Charles Xavier was one to enjoy a good game of basketball. However, when it comes to establishing ties and reaching out to mutant kids, Charles has been known to shoot a few hoops now and again. Currently, he's wearing a 'Xavier Institute for Higher Learning' T-shirt, sweatpants, and Chuck Taylors, running the court with some of the kids.
Well, let's be honest, he's putting about twenty years on the kids, so he's not exactly running the court as struggling to keep up, as he's been doing it for a while. Eventually, laughing a bit, he waves towards the coach, who looks a bit like the Rock… save that he has four arms instead of two, "Think I need a breather here, get Jordan in, he needs some reps." With that, he moves off the court, taking a seat at a table.
There is a new face at the community center, and it's quite a fetching one. Ninette is volunteering in the kitchen, and the songstress looks completely out of her element. Her dress is a neat little mini thing in shades of green, her wedge heels impractical for moving around so long on her feet. Still, her hair looks flawless and her lipstick game is on point. Cherry red.
Finally it's time for a break, and she comes out to take a load off. She gets looks, not all of them friendly. This neighborhood isn't all that privileged. What Chanel is doing here is anyone's guess. She's not even sweating in the heat. She looks around for a place to sit, and her gaze passes over Charles without recognition and with some reservation, but she tries on a smile for size instead of the imperious glower she's trying to get rid of.
Charles blinks, recognizing the scent and then finds the source, looking over towards Ninette, and gives her a friendly smile, "Good afternoon." He sounds nice, anyway, actually standing up and gesturing, "Need a chair? Those kids ran me into the ground, I'm afraid." Though, he doesn't look /that/ winded. At least the towel nearby took care of most of the sweat, as he does seem to be in pretty good shape for… well, probably early thirties or so.
"Good afternoon," Ninette says. Her accent is French. Her smiles gains some ground, and she glances out at the kids on the court. "I'm sure you taught them a few moves." She lays a hand on the back of a chair at the table, considers, then sits. Offering her hand across, she says, "My name is Ninette." The angle of the offered hand is intended more for a kiss than a shake. The air immediately around her is colder, leaving her skin cool to touch. "I'm new here."
Xavier smiles a bit, and gives a very nonchalant kiss to the offered hand, "Enchante, mademoiselle." His French is actually pretty good, even if it is only two words, and he nods, "Spent a fair amount of time in France, when I was getting my doctorate. I'm a somewhat frequent visitor… Charles Xavier." Which matches up with the shirt that he wears, how about that! Then he tilts his head, and grins, "Maybe I did teach them a bit, but I think they outdid me with their youth and vigor. Still, even then I do enjoy teaching. Even if I'm getting run into the ground."
"A doctorate," Ninette says, and she reconsiders Charles, now with a new and improved impression. She glances to the shirt, then back to his face. "I'm from Paris," she says, of course pronouncing it like 'Paree.' "You look young to be a Professor," she says. "Surely you haven't done it for long."
Charles laughs, "Actually, it's been about a decade, so I'll take that as a compliment." He grins, "Normally I dress a little differently, but playing in a suit never works out well. Particularly for the suit. But I digress… it's good to see a new volunteer here. They always seem to have the need, and not enough people do that."
Ninette glances down at her own dress. Pretty, but given the look of vague remorse on her face, she has become aware of its impracticality. "This is my first day. I'm doing it for someone who healed me when I was very sick. He said volunteer and he would consider the debt paid." She glances back at the kitchen. "I think it's almost defeated me."
Charles blinks, "Well, what's been so bad about it?" He actually does sound sympathetic, looking at Ninette curiously. "Though, while your dress is quite flattering, I will say that something a bit more… practical might be a better selection."
Ninette groans, laughing at the same time, "My feet are killing me." She sighs, and she admits, "I shall have to shop for something more relaxed. I had no idea what this place was like." She can't quite keep the grimace off her face. Here is one not used to sliding off the lap of luxury. She lowers her voice as she says, "Everyone is so poor."
Charles smiles a little at that, "Yes. Though that's why I contribute a fair amount of time, and money, here. Lifting up the entire community." He hmms a bit, "Well, I would suggest some sneakers, Ninette. They definitely would have better support for the standing you have to do."
Ninette's lips twist in a little moue before she says, "I suppose. Besides, I'm not sure they appreciate fashion here." She taps her lip, eyes narrowing as she asks, "Who is doing the books? All the money in the world doesn't mean anything if it's not being managed wisely. I used to run a company." She can't be any more than, what, twenty-something? "Maybe if they let me look at their books, I can help without getting blisters on my feet."
Xavier nods, "Well, I admit that I'm not much of an accountant, but if you can do that… well, that'd be a great service." He grins, "If nothing else, I always thought it was efficient, but maybe it's not… wouldn't mind making sure that it was so it gets where it needs to be."
"Every penny saved," Ninette says. "I can donate money, too. I just…" Her brow knits, and she glances down at the table. "I haven't always been very nice, and after a mutant named Josh healed me from something that would have killed me, I think maybe it's all right to have found people like me. I wanted to get rid of it, stay away from it all, but I think I owe them at least a little of my time."
Charles smiles, "A good way to start, Ninette. So, you're a mutant as well?" Not that he doesn't already know, but he is polite enough to ask her. "I mean, I am too, which isn't the only reason I help here, but I know what it can be like."
Ninette's shoulders slump a little, marring her ramrod posture. "Oui," she says. "Ever since I was sixteen." She lifts a hand and sends skirls of frost whirling away into the air where they dissipate. "I keep it hidden most of the time. The other night, there was an attack not too far from here of these horrible werewolf-things. I froze the ground to contain the pathogen in their blood." She smiles crookedly. "Not such a secret now."
Charles laughs softly, "Very nice. I had a student with a similar power, when I first started teaching. You seem to have rather good control over your abilities, Ninette." He smiles back, "My abilities are not quite so visible."
Ninette says, "Lucky." There's a brief glower of jealousy, but there's no real venom in it. "I've learned along the way, but there were accidents in Paris. I've maimed. I don't know if I killed my father or if it was an accident." She blinks a few times and says, "I don't tell people that. Mostly, I contain it unless something like yesterday happens. I try to help now, but it's difficult. I get angry and I just want to freeze the world."
Charles nods, "I understand that anger… especially when I see injustice happening in the world. Sometimes it could be just so easy…" He trails off, then shakes his head, "But that wouldn't work, in any case." He pauses, and then looks over at Ninette, saying simply, "I'm actually a telepath. Don't worry, though, I'm not reading your mind. It's rather rude to do that without permission." He smiles a little at that, giving her a slight shrug.
"I should think it would be," Ninette says in a clipped tone, and her posture regains its picture-perfect poise. "All I can do is make things cold. In Paris, the ones who labeled me a villain called me Dame d'Hiver." She shakes her head. "It's for the best I don't do what you do." She tilts her head, then asks, "How do you use such a power?"
Charles smiles, "Karma, actually. By which I mean… just treating other people the way I would like to be treated. People can seem scary, or small minded… but no person ever is. Everyone has hopes and dreams, and you can get through, if you have the patience." He seems to genuinely believe that too, and he doesn't even sound judgemental of the 'villain' name that Ninette gives herself.
"I don't have a lot of patience," Ninette admits. "When I needed people the most to be kind and caring, they took advantage, and they did harm. Now I come to this place and they tell me I can trust our kind. I'm trying." Her smile is brittle but not forced. "So far, it hasn't been bad." She rests one arm on the table, leaning in as she says, "Tell me about this school."
Charles looks at Ninette, and nods, "Certainly. It's a school for, well, our kind. Secondary school as well as a college, starting in the fall for the latter." He smiles, "In addition to normal curricula, we have teachers there to help students with their powers. Using them and controlling them, and keeping the students safe. But not everyone wants to go, nor is everyone suitable, so…" He shrugs, "I tend to keep the details about it secret, for obvious reasons."
Ninette nods quickly and says, "Of course. That sort of information could be bad in the wrong hands. All those children, and there are cruel, terrible people." Haltingly, she admits, "What you do is noble. I sing, but while it's glamorous, I don't think it helps as many lives."
Charles hmms, "Don't underestimate the power of a good performance, Ninette. But yes, there are dangerous people out there, and my students will be safe." His voice, while normally light and cheerful, does get a serious intonation at that declaration. Though he does then ask, "What do you sing?"
Ninette nods to herself, taking that serious tone with approval. "I sing in a lounge, lots of classic jazz and swing. It's mostly drunk men and their dates, but it's all I've ever wanted to do." A smile touches her lips as she adds "And I'm good at it. Do you have a music program at your school?"
Charles chuckles, "In… theory, we have one?" He laughs softly, "Mostly I teach musical appreciation, but actual people that are qualified to teach music? Not quite as much." With that he gives a slight shrug, "While I appreciate music, I can't perform it myself."
Ninette clucks her tongue. "Music was my only escape," she says. "Sometimes it's the only language one can speak without screaming." Charles gets a chiding look. "You should hire a music teacher." Listen to the twenty-something full of wisdom, already knowing how the school ought to be run.
Charles hmms, "Well, I probably should. Where would I ever find one, though? I mean, they would have to be quite good at what they do, and be trustworthy enough to be at the school…" He looks rather thoughtful at that, though that might be a sort of test.
Ninette's features are quite serious as she works the problem in her mind, mulling the conundrum over. "And able to teach. No young children, though." She shudders. Children, so noisy and sticky. "It shouldn't be an easy class. Only student serious about learning should come. Everyone else can go take gym."
Charles laughs a little, "Well, if you'd be seriously interested… I think we can manage to fit you in to the fall semester." He smiles, "And if you don't wish to teach the youngest, that's fine. High school and college only for you."
"Thank you," Ninette says fervently. "They're like animals with grabby hands." It takes her a moment to catch up to the rest, and she says, "Are you offering me a job? I will have to sing at night. Will I be able to do that? It's why I came to New York after all."
Charles smiles, "It's not that far from New York, and I think that you could come out here to sing, certainly. We can be flexible, of course." He nods slightly, then asks, "So, where do you sing?"
Ninette considers this, then nods and says, "All right." She inspects her nails with a frown. Work in the kitchen has not done her manicure any favors. There's a torn nail and her mint green nail polish is chipped. "There is a club called Lux. It's very nice, very fancy. You should go there sometime." She looks Charles over. "Yes, in a suit, you would be very handsome."
Charles blinks a bit, and actually blushes slightly, "Well, yes, I do tend to wear a suit… it's my preferred way to dress, really." He smiles, "Ah, Lux? I might have to give that a visit then."
Ninette smiles broadly at the blush. "It's true, your students must have a crush on you. Anyway, you should come when I'm singing. You'll see what kind of music teacher you've hired." She waves a hand as she adds, "I don't need the money. Maybe give it back to the community. I just can't stand the idea that no one's teaching these poor mutant children how to sing."
Charles laughs, "Done and done. I'll come by the Lux, at some point then." He doesn't comment on crushing students, because… well, he is a telepath. Sometimes those thoughts are a bit hard to avoid.
Ninette takes a card out of her little clutch purse and offers it to Charles. It's for Lux, complete with the address. "Here. Bring a date if you want to impress her. The drinks are wonderful, and the entertainment is the best in New York City." Humble child, this one.
Xavier smiles, "I will definitely do so, Ninette. Thank you." He takes the card and pockets it, "I'm certain we shall be in touch."
Ninette rises to her feet and stretches. "Good," she says. "It was nice to meet you, Charles, but I must go back inside and try to learn how to make soup." No, the kitchen really isn't the place for a girl like Ninette. "So much chopping," she complains.