1964-08-15 - Hitchhiking
Summary: Hope meets a mutant who can get her to the manor.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
jean-paul hope 

It's the end of summer, and the locals are getting their last bit of summer fun in at Coney Island. It's warm, and the setting sun gives everything a golden cast, while the sounds of conversation and laughter ring along the pier. Hope needs to find a way to get to Westchester, but before she makes that trip, she needs to find a way to blend in better. Coney Island, full of tourists, tourist traps, and distracted people, was the perfect place to pick up a change of clothes to replace her unusual uniform. She'd managed to get a pair of oversized jeans and a souvenir t-shirt, and even scavenged most of a pretzel out of a trash can. Now? She's eating it, trying to decide on her next move.

If there's one thing Jean-Paul is not concerned about, it's blending in. Flying in over the water, he's low enough to be quite obvious to anyone who happens to be looking in that direction. And for those who aren't, there's plenty of time to do so as he heads inland, over the beach, then touches down lightly on the boardwalk. Glancing down at himself, he tugs his shirt straight then brushes his hair to one side before looking around at those who are staring at him. A small nod of his head acknowledges their looks before he glances around to get his bearings.

Mouth full of pretzel, Hope looks up when someone actually flies in, brows rising. Interesting. Even in the future, most people don't fly just because. Maybe it's a function of being so early in the mutant timeline. Or another sort of hero. There do seem to be options these days. Curious, she reaches out with her own talents, trying to get a feel for if the man is a mutant, and if so, just what it is he does.

Of course Jean-Paul is a mutant. His power is being fabulous. He also flies fast. Spotting a hotdog stand, he walks over to the attendant. "Bon soir, mon ami. I shall have one with sauerkraut, relish and mustard, s'il vous plait." Reaching into a pocket, he pulls out a dollar and sets it on the cart.

Flying fast would be an extremely useful skill for getting to Westchester without having to hitchhike. Still chewing on that pretzel, Hope starts to edge her way toward Jean-Paul through the crowd. Maybe if she can just hang around long enough, she can get enough of a charge to make this trip easier.

It takes the man a few seconds before he starts assembling the hot dog. As he waits, Jean-Paul looks around, focusing a moment on the girl heading his way before moving on to another. When the hot dog is extended, he takes it and then the change from the dollar, some of which he drops in a can as a tip.

Hope isn't really the best at blending in. Her demeanor might be all right, but when it comes down to it, the oversized pants, the oversized souvenir t-shirt, and the ragged bundle under her arm mark her as homeless at best. Added to the speed at which she scarfs that pretzel, and she's at least not someone's wandering child or girlfriend. She tries not to be obvious - lingering by one of the carnival games until the barker asks if she's coming or going and she's forced to move on.

Jean-Paul has a vaguely amused looked to him as he eats his hot dog. He's on display, knows it, and enjoys it. Given his manner of entrance, it must be a favored place to be. "Quite good, mon ami." he tells the vendor. "Fix another one for… that girl over there." he says, pointing at Hope. "She looks like she can use something to eat, given her manner of dress." See? Handsome, fabulous, and generous. Many eyes turn to see who he's pointing at.

Hope pauses on the last bite of her pretzel, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel as she looks toward Jean-Paul and the other people now all looking her way. "Thanks?" she mumbles around the food, absently brushing her hands off on her shirt before carefully making a point of throwing away the pretzel wrapper. Only then does she walk over closer to the hot dog stand, still keeping her distance. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she nods and reiterates herself. "Thanks."

"Bienvenue." Jean-Paul answers, tipping his head gracefully. "Tell the man how you want it and it shall be done. Also what you wish to drink." Taking a napkin from the cart, he dabs at his mouth before taking another bite from his frank.

"Chili and onions, please," Hope says to the man. "And a coke, please." She looks back to Jean-Paul while the hot dog is made, glancing between him and the path he flew in on. "You flew here," she notes. Observant this one. "Is that…do people just fly around here?"

"Oui, I did." Jean-Paul agrees, sounding amused. "Most people do not fly. I am not most people." As if that was not blatantly obvious. "I have an ability. I choose to use it instead of hiding it as if it were something to be ashamed of. I refuse to quietly acquiesce to the discrimination and oppression of the various governments."

Hope nods slowly, letting that sink in. "Well that's…good," she finally says. She seems to mean it, it's just that she isn't quite sure if she believes it. That it's possible, without someone crying hate or attacking. She wipes her hand on the side of her pants, then steps close enough to offer over a hand. "I'm Hope," she introduces herself.

Jean-Paul glances down at the hand as if unsure where it's been but clasps it briefly. "Hope. Something much needed in today's world. Jean-Paul Beaubier. A pleasure, mademoiselle. But if I may say so, you do not appear as if you are in the best of circumstances."

"I'll be all right," Hope says with a quick, crooked smile, sounding confident. "I just, uh. I got here sort of unexpectedly, so I wasn't prepared and I didn't have a whole lot with me. I just need to find some friends, then I'm sure we can get it all figured out and taken care of before anything goes, uh. Weird."

Jean-Paul nods his understanding. "I understand. Many young people arrive in the big city unprepared and need to find some friends. If you wish, I can make a call. There are students who often have a spare section of floor available to those who need it. All they ask is help in overthrowing the government." It's difficult to say whether he's serious or not as the faint amusement he's had all along has never faded.

Hope gives Jean-Paul a long look, weighing that, before a faint smile quirks. "Thanks, but I know where I'm headed. I just need to catch a ride, is all. I figured I'd get some food here, then maybe see if anyone was headed away from the city when the day was over, you know? Maybe a family with kids or something."

Jean-Paul nods easily, not seeming to minds that she turned down the offer. "Bon. Where is it you are going? As the Avengers do not require my talents today and I am not scheduled to lecture anywhere, I am feeling uncommonly beneficent. Perhaps I shall fly you, if you are feeling up to the challenge."

Hope pauses, head tilting. "You have Avengers here? Is Tony Stark an Avenger?" An odd question, perhaps, but then Tony Stark is a well-known figure regardless.

"Oui, Monsieur Stark is a member." Jean-Paul informs Hope. "What do you mean 'you have Avengers here'? Where else would we be?" Moving over to the railing, he turns to lean back against it and watch Hope as they talk.

Hope takes the hot dog and the coke from the vendor once it's ready, then follows Jean-Paul over to the railing. "I'm not from around here," she explains. "Or a-when now, to be more accurate. I'm from the future. I mean. I originated in the future, but I've been through a whole lot of future growing up, then was back, then something just happened and suddenly I was here. But if you have a Tony Stark, then maybe he can help with a time machine."

"You are from the future." Jean-Paul repeats as he studies Hope. He's obviously not quite sure if she's crazy or just… well, crazy. "Something happened and suddenly you are here. And wish Monsieur Stark to build you a time machine." O-o-okay. "I see. And these friends of yours you are wanting to go meet. Are they from the future as well?"

"No. They're gone in the future. Gone in the distant future," Hope clarifies, taking a bite of her hot dog. "In my future they're there, but not everyone. Things keep happening. Which is complicated, and I probably shouldn't discuss it in the interest of not breaking the future. But at this point in history, they should be in Westchester."

The jury is still out on whether or not Hope is crazy or merely insane. "By all means, the future should not be broken. Just how far in the future are we talking about? A month? A year? Two?" Finishing his hot dog, he crumples the white paper holder in his hand.

"That's a complicated question." Hope continues to eat. If she's crazy, at least she's a very calm crazy person. "My proper time is about forty years in the future. When I was born. But they sent me ahead because there were people who wanted to kill me. And Nathan's regulator broke, so he could only go forward, so…for a long time, there was a whole lot of crazy forward. The future is an empty place when you go far enough ahead."

"And your friends, the ones who are here, are in Westchester." Jean-Paul muses then nods once. "Bon. Then to Westchester we shall go." he decides. "Do you wish to phone ahead or is this a surprise?" He might as well humor the crazy girl. And then he can bring her back and drop her off at Bellevue.

"I don't have a telephone number," Hope grimaces. "Nathan would probably know it, but I never needed to. I mean, and it probably would've changed between now and then. Do phone numbers even have seven digits yet? The number's probably, like, one-two-three or something." No, Hope, you're not that far back in the past. "But if you're willing to take me, then I'm glad to go." In fact, she's finished off her hot dog in record time.

"The world does not require saving just at the moment." Jean-Paul states. "And Westchester is not far. A half hour at most, flying slowly enough to allow you to breathe without difficulty." Stepping over to a trash can, he tosses his garbage into it. "Keep your head down or looking backwards so the air is not rushing into your face."

"Can you breathe when you're flying?" Hope asks, wiping off her hands before throwing away the trash. "If you can breathe, then I should be able to." She says it matter-of-fact, as if it makes perfect sense. "Actually, if you give me a minute and stay close, I can probably handle my own flying."

Jean-Paul's brows rise as he gazes at Hope. "You will be explaining that, oui?" he says simply.

Hope smiles faintly, adjusting the ball of fabric held under her arm. "My name is Hope," she repeats herself. "I was the first mutant born after M-Day, when all but about one hundred mutants lost their powers. And my power is that I can copy the powers of those around me. So. If you're a mutant, and you can fly, then so can I. There's just…a little bit of a learning curve," she adds, sheepish.

"We shall be discussing this 'M-Day' at some point." Jean-Paul tells Hope. "But not here." Rising into the air about twenty feet, he waits for Hope to prove the truth of her claims. At least the part about copying powers.

Hope rolls the feeling of his powers around her mind for a moment, then looks at the crowd around them. It feels odd to just jump into it, right in front of people, like it's normal and they won't attack for it. But after a moment, she starts to rise into the air…and then shoots up about fifty feet before catching herself. "Learning curve!" she calls back to Jean-Paul, balancing herself back out.

Jean-Paul rises to Hope's height then starts drifting toward Westchester, keeping his upright position and watching her. "So, that part of your story is true." he muses. "Perhaps some of the rest of it is as well."

"I could have lied about it," Hope points out, and while she moves in fits and starts at first, she soon gets the hang of it - and seems to know how to get to Westchester, at least. "You still would have taken me there. But you were nice to me, and…I'm going to need some serious help if I'm going to get back. So probably better to be honest when I can."

"Oui, you could have." Jean-Paul agrees. "And still could be. But now I am interested and not merely humoring you. It is worth a small bit of time to discover just what the truth is." As Hope seems to get the hang of it, he starts speeding up.

It doesn't take Hope too long to figure out how it works, but she definitely stays close to Jean-Paul. Flying is one of those things you don't want to run out of gas on in the middle of it. And conversation isn't really advised once you're moving at a certain speed. She's determined, ready to find a way to get back to her life and her duties there.

So long as Hope can keep up, Jean-Paul keeps going faster. It doesn't take long to get to Westchester at 400mph and he slows to let Hope take the lead. "And where from here?" he inquires.

As they reach the outskirts of Westchester, Hope heads for the ground. It's outside of the town itself, but she isn't quite to Xavier's yet either. But she's in the neighborhood. "I…should probably take it from here on my own," she says as she reaches the ground, giving Jean-Paul a look. I don't know exactly how things are now, but I know how I found them in the future, and I think it would be better to not draw attention."

"I do not think so." Jean-Paul states, landing next to Hope. "If what you say is true, then this is something I wish to know about. What little you said did not sound pleasant and there are questions that require answers."

Hope crosses her arms over her chest, staying where she is. "That's fine," she says flatly. "I guess we're spending the night here, then. I told you about me, because that's mine to tell. But I won't risk good people and their secrets when I don't know what I'm giving away."

"Bon." Jean-Paul agrees. "I have not spent a night outdoors in a while. I shall enjoy it. Or perhaps I shall just search the area for anything that might appear unusual. At several times the speed of sound, it will not take long at all."

Stubborn is not a problem for Hope. She calls Jean-Paul's bluff, sitting down at the side of the road and opening up that little bundle of fabric to start going through her few things.

Jean-Paul crosses over to a tree and leans against it. "Do you truly expect me to leave you here on your own?" he inquires of her. "For all I know, nothing you have said is the truth, not even that of being able to copy powers. You could already have been able to fly and was merely fortunate in that I could as well. For all I know, you mean nothing good to anyone here. I am not going to take that chance."

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