Jean-Paul. (du_nord) wrote in academy_x, @ 2010-03-21 19:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | iceman, northstar |
Who: Jean-Paul Beaubier (aka New Kid) and Bobby.
When: Sunday night, after dinner
Where: The entrance hall, then probably the boys' dorm, idk
What: Jean-Paul arrives at Xavier's and... well, makes a first impression? We shall see!
Starting at a new school was certainly nothing new for Jean-Paul. By the time he was ten he'd already lost count of the number of schools he'd attended for months or weeks at a time. They'd been public, private, religious, secular, specialty schools, prestigious schools, those on the far side of mediocre, Francophone, mixed-language, and he'd even been homeschooled at one point. It was safe to say, though, that he'd never attended a school quite like this one.
His bag sat on his lap, though he made no move to lift it or to open the car door. There wasn't much inside, just some personal belongings; the majority of his clothing and books and so on had already arrived and, he'd been told, was waiting for him in his assigned dorm room. Raymonde was waiting in the driver's seat beside him, the car idling, and Jean-Paul gave him one last look that spoke volumes. His mentor gave him a smile, the kind that was meant to instill confidence. "Get out of here," Raymonde told him in French, not unkindly. "You know this is the right place to be."
"Oui," Jean-Paul agreed, but he just sat there for one more moment, just delaying the inevitable: he would get out, Raymonde would drive away, and he'd be left alone here in this American school. But that was all right. He wasn't here to make friends, of course. He was here to train and to make contacts that would serve him well later in life, and he had to admit he was curious about this new generation of mutants being trained at this school. Every mutant he'd met while training with Guardian was older and already well-established in their powers, and it would be interesting to meet those who were technically his peers -- those who, like him, were here to learn and improve themselves. Of course, he was better than all of them, almost certainly, but he might well lead some of them someday, or find himself in competition with them. It was always good to know your competition, and your inferiors as well, for that matter.
He pressed the latch, finally, to open the car door, and stood with more grace than most teenagers could manage even on their best days. "Au revoir," he told Raymonde, and reached back into the car to touch his foster father's hand one last time. The man had been so much more than a father to him, these past six years, but Raymonde wasn't a mutant and couldn't guide him through this new life. "I'll call you tonight." And as the car drove off down the school's long drive, Jean-Paul squared his shoulders and looked up at the imposing arch of the entryway. Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, it read. Well, he was that, definitely. This was his place, it seemed. He lifted his bag and started up the steps. Time to meet the rest of those gifted students -- though how they could be more gifted than he was, he couldn't possibly imagine.
Inside, he looked around for a few moments, at a loss, though he'd never admit it. He didn't actually know where his room was. But that wasn't a problem; this was a school, and he'd sent word that he'd be coming tonight, so someone had to be around. "'Ello?" he called, still looking around the place with interest. He'd come in at the tail end of dinner, he suspected. Perhaps he'd simply have to wander until he found the right place.