ArchivedLogs:All the Help

All the Help
Dramatis Personae Jackson, Jennifer	2013-04-19 Jennifer finally catches Jackson. Turns out they can learn from each other as much as their students.
Location <XS> Teachers' Lounge - B1
Running a school for mutant teenagers just taking control of their powers is not an easy job, and the teachers at Xavier's deserve a place to come and relax. This lounge is their place to come and de-stress, and it does not skimp for relaxation. The room is elegant and luxurious, plush couches making up the seating in the lounge and a glossy glassy bar wrapping around one wall, well-stocked with alcohol (and perpetually fresh-brewed coffee, for those so inclined. A large-screen high-def television hangs on one wall, stocked with about as many movies and games as the childrens' rec room upstairs. High bookshelves hold a wealth of books. The fridge here is always well stocked, and the cook is always willing to make deliveries down to this level. Far in the back, a hot tub is submerged into the floor, for still more unwinding. Friday morning, and it's early enough classes aren't even yet in session. Somewhere, students are probably grabbing breakfast or showers or still eking out the last stretch of sleep they can manage. Somewhere, teachers are probably doing the same. Jackson is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, an inveterate Morning Person -- OK, and Night Person, too, maybe he just never sleeps. At the moment he is /humming/ to himself, something lively-cheerful by Ryan Black, and munching a bagel spread with margarine and jam as he sits cross-legged on one of the couches. There's a tall glass of cranberry juice on the table in front of him, and he is tapping at the mousepad of his laptop, absently paging through news. He smells somewhat of soap and somewhat more /strongly/ of chlorine, and is dressed in his probably not-particularly-professional usual. Silvery vinyl skirt with a rainbow pattern on one side, silver fishnet tights over solid green ones, a green t-shirt with a picture of a child hugging a cow printed on its lower corner. Shimmery metallic makeup. Brightly coloured mismatched arm warmers. His chunky silver-and-sparkly-green platform sneakers have been discarded, lined up neatly at the foot of the couch. His single eye roams the screen slow and thoughtful. A storm invades the teacher's lounge. The door swings open violently, slamming against the doorstop. One could assume an unlikely draft, but the far likely culprit is a five foot ten auburn-haired teacher. Jennifer had a way of making her presence known she wanted to. "Jackson!" The exclamation is almost accusatory, but the measure of concern found in her tone softens her voice. As it happens, the name resonates throughout the lounge before the green eyes even lock onto their victim. When she does spot him, the name is pronounced again, albeit this time more calmly. "Jackson." The door is closed politely before the fiery woman steps further into the lounge, marching towards the other teacher. Quite like Jackson, Jennifer is a morning person. There is a lingering scent of soaps, mingling with a faint unintrusive perfume. She is dressed in a dark brown suit - a jacket paired with office slacks - and a white blouse, the outfit almost entirely hiding her intimidating build. Her hair is seemingly wild and unkempt, but some know her enough that it's a premeditated look; a precisely faint layer of make-up is nearly impossible to notice. When she reaches Jackson, she gives him a stare most often associated with an incoming slap or an incoming stream of water from the nearest tallest glass. Instead, her face brightens as a smile slowly grows, and she shakes her head incredulously. "You still look ridiculous." The words ride on a mischievous tone that render them more a teasing remark than anything else. Jackson looks up, his pierced lips curling reflexively into a smile, quick and warm in the face of impending DOOM. Or impending teasing. His eyebrows hike up, and there's a quiet laughter buried in his tone as he answers lightly, "You still know how t'make an entrance." He leans forward to set his laptop on the table, putting his bagel in his lap instead. "I hear you been shooting students. I thought /I/ was supposed to be the crazy teacher." Choosing to remain ominously standing before Jackson, Jen lightly crosses her arms below the bust and looks down at her fellow colleauge with a lopsided grin. "Only when it comes to fashion", she jabs one last time. At least for the time being. "I can't even begin to describe the week I had. You comfortable? I sure hope so!" With a bit of a huff, her rant begins in full: "The first Power and Social Responsibility class I was assigned to teach, Ivan scared Faelan, which caused both of them to teleport to random locations in New York. Guess who retrieved 'em. And on the way /back/, Ivan scares the living hell out of me by leading me to believe Shelby is going to get bitten by a tarantula. In reality, he was scared for the stu-- for that pet of his, instead!" Words fly past those full lips at surprising speed. It wouldn't be unreasonable to assume Jennifer is irked by the aforementioned affairs, but that grin, albeit diminished, remains. The events are kind of amusing, now that she thinks back on them. "Barely a day goes by, and I have to deal with Ivan helping Shelby cheat on her homework. I thought, okay, I'll talk to Jackson-- And then I hear from Scott you got /suspended/?" A half-amused scoff. "Crazy teacher for a crazy school." Jackson shifts in his seat, sitting back further and taking a bite of his bagel. Chewing and swallowing means it takes a short while before he can answer. "I got myself unsuspended!" he says, brightly, once his mouth is no longer full. "I talked to the Professor about it, I get to keep my advisees." His nose wrinkles up, slightly. "-- Which I guess is good cuz they're gonna need a lot of help. Things've been pretty much crazysauce around here I mean /even/ moreso than /usual/ and things here are /usually/ pretty crazysauce." "You convinced-- You convinced Charles?" Jennifer seems pretty stunned by this accomplishment, even if it's highly likely she would have done the same in his place. There is a glint of relief in Jen's eyes; she seems genuinely happy Jackson has his position back. That said, he doesn't escape another quip - sternly placing her knuckles against her hips, the redhead inquires rhetorically with a raised brow, "Since when did you develop reality-bendin' powers?" Another incredulous scoff compliments her smirk. Turning away from her colleague, she heads towards the bar. "/Usual/, Jackson? I don't think this school has a /usual/ setting. We're a school that teaches students that can set things on fire, teleport and make trucks hover." Stepping behind the bar, Jennifer searches for a mug. Once found, her eyes scan the nearby vicinity for something vital. As she does, she asks in a bit of a murmur, "Where's the coffee?" "I'm an illusionist," Jackson says cheerfully, "I bend reality all the /time/." It isn't particularly reality bending, but a warm sunny glow of light blossoms to surround the coffeemaker, like a bright caffeine /beacon/. "But -- yeah, I talked to him. I /do/ think it's better for the kids to have some stability." He shrugs a shoulder, his smile a little wry. "As much as we can /get/ 'em around here nohow." There's another brief pause, so that he can take another bite of bagel, wash it down iwth a gulp of juice. "I been talking to Ivan about respectin' people, though I ain't yet sat down with neither of 'em about the cheating." His nose wrinkles, head shaking. "Can't say it hardly surprised me from Shelby, but mmnnh. Ivan." A sceptical smirk faces Jackson when the man jokingly claims to be able to bend reality. Jennifer says nothing, instead moving towards the beacon pointing out the coffee-maker. Conveniently fresh for the teachers willing to gather the energy before the chaos of classes, Jen is one of the few who legitimately /need/ it. "I don't think it's just cheating. I think Ivan has another core issue - he's too timid. In fact, I think it's actually kind of funny that he is the opposite side of the same coin Shelby's on. One's too timid, the other one's-- Well, y'know. I think the two could learn from one another." As the mug fills up with coffee, Jennifer sighs softly. "Listen, Scott wants me to help you advise the children. I don't know what happened to make the administration think you deserved suspension, but if /you/ think things are getting too crazy, then-- I want to help out. But I can't help you out if you don't help me help you." The mug is full. Jennifer pauses, seemingly confusing herself. Looking up, she looks over to Jackson. "You get me, right?" Jackson's lips press together slightly. "The administration thought I had a lot on my plate already," he answers with a slight shrug. "But I told 'em I could handle it." He is quiet a moment, chewing over his breakfast. "I think you're right about them havin' a lot to learn from each other, though actually getting them to /learn/ it'll be an interesting venture. Shelby's --" He hesitates. "She's got a lot of resistance to help. Takes a lot to get her to work with you and not much at all to wreck it again." Which makes his nose wrinkle, once more. "-- Which is probably why it'd be good to have you helpin' out. Think at the moment she's got a bit of awkward, dealing with me. She just broke up with my kid and -- and it ain't like that's nothing that makes me mad but it got /her/ defensive right away cuz she /thinks/ I'm gonna be mad, y'know?" "Ah, the /dating/. I forgot a mutant school is exactly like any other school in that regard." Slotting the coffee back in the machine, Jennifer slowly steps away form the bar, taking an experimental sip of the coffee. Judging by her brightened expression, it's been heartily approved. And so she walks back over to Jackson again, low heels clicking against the ground. With one hand hugging the mug and another on her waist, Jen looks the colourfully clad colleague of hers over. Another sigh, this time accompanied by a mild smile. "Spritzing Shelby helped, but that's a temporary solution. If I am going to do this right-- Well, I have an idea. I'm bringing both Ivan and Shelby to the Danger Room. Scott authorised me. Once I figure the damn thing out, I'll try to set something up that will make the two work together. And you know me, Jax. Xavier didn't hire me for my soft touch." "Yeah, teenagers is still /pretty/ teenagery here too." Jackson tips his head up at Jen, his smile as easy-warm as it ever is. "Yeah? Ain't neither of them seen Danger Room time yet, their powers don't really /need/ it and /they/ been --" His teeth sink down against his lip, for a moment. "Might not have a soft touch but still should keep a careful one, kinda want to /teach/ students, not traumatize them," he says wryly. "Them workin' together'd be a plus, though. You want a crash-course in figuring that thing out? I been, uh, using it since just about my graduation day." The tentative smile grows into a smirk. It's /that/ smirk. The scheming smirk, the sort that Jennifer sports when something's brewing in that impulse-driven head of hers. "Don't worry, I'll try to pop their cherry gently. Scott assured me the students are stronger than we're willing to give them credit for. If we're going to /treat/ them like fragile flowers, they're going to think of themselves as such, and I am inclined to agree." "That said, I'm not going to make them lose an eye", she notes half-jokingly. "Look, Jackson, I am not forgetting that they cheated on /ethics/ homework, not Danger Room homework. And I've read their files. Twice, in Shelby's case. I know their powers. I'm not going to test their mutant powers. I'm going to test the /human/ ones." Jackson's smile /thins/ at the lose an eye comment, head dipping to look back down at his breakfast. He takes another bite, shrugging a shoulder. "Their files don't tell you so much about their human powers. And that's the side that needs more care. They're /strong/ kids. Still /kids/, though. Sometimes folks around here forget that and --" He shakes his head slightly. "What periods do you teach? I gotta class first period but after that, could be, I'll take you to the DR, show you the ropes. There really ain't all that /many/ ropes." "Jax." For the first time during this entire conversation, Jennifer employs her softest tone of voice yet. Her coffee is all but forgotten, lowered to her midriff and hugged with both hands now. For a moment, she's quiet, not just for lack of how to approach the situation regarding the kids, but also because of a pang of guilty that her earlier teasing remark was a step too far. Her finger begins to tap against the mug. Tap. Tap tap. Tap. "I've got Power and Social Responsibility and a couple of PE classes today. You could either catch me between those or at the end of the work day. Speaking of-- I should actually be going about now. But Jackson?" "Their human powers is what I was hoping to learn from /you/. I know you care about them, but so do I-- Maybe not as much as you, since you've known them for longer, but that also makes you attached to them. You're afraid to push them. I'm not. You have to admit 'good cop, bad cop' is a decent strategy here. They might hate me, they might be scared of me, but at the end of the day, they will run back to you at their most malleable, at their most tender." Despite being the one to propose such, Jennifer furrows her brows and asks dubiously, "Do I make sense?" It takes Jackson a while to answer tihs, his brow creasing in thought as he finishes his bagel. He licks crumbs off his lips, drains his juice, and even then he doesn't answer until he gets up to head to the sink at the bar and wash his dishes. "No." It has taken him quite a while to arrive at this short conclusion, apparently. But he does flesh it out as he starts to wash his plate. "They could use a firmer hand. I think that much is true. I think you'd be good for that, and I'd be glad of help there, it's a place I know I'm lacking. But the whole good cop, bad cop thing --" His head shakes, quiet voice skewing wry. "They ain't criminals, they're students. I know, I know, it was an analogy but --" His shoulder lifts in a shrug. "They shouldn't hate you. Or be scared'a you. Shelby's the kinda kid who showed /up/ with a truckload of baggage and a clear history of folks she can't trust. You come in off the streets or -- or in any trauma situation like that, an' hating someone, being scared'a them, it's one and the same with not being able to trust 'em. And these kids gotta know that this place /is/ safe. That they /can/ trust any of us. Or we won't help 'em, we'll /lose/ 'em. And we can't do jack for them if they leave. S'a line to walk between strict and severe and I think it's gonna be a real careful balance keeping on the right side'a it." Tap. Tap tap. Tap. There goes that musical finger again. "That probably makes /more/ sense, yes", she reluctantly agrees. "But when I said 'hate' and 'scared', I didn't mean-- Y'know. I'm not going to get them hooked on heroine or hit them." She looks down at her coffee, parting with a troublesome sigh. A couple of quick sips are taken. "At the end of the day, you're going to have to remind me of the boundary of being too hard on them in the same way I'm going to have to remind you of the boundary of being too soft on them, Jax. Doubt has no place here. It's infectious and dangerous." The next few words are accompanied by a lighter mood, as well as a timid grin. "I guess, when you consider it, we'll have to learn from each other much like Shelby and Ivan. Anyway-- Mind if I run off? My class starts in ten." This last makes Jackson smile. He sets his plate and his mug both aside to dry, and flashes Jen a quick smile. "Yeah," he says, lighter, "yeah, I guess we will." Picking up a towel, he nods at the other teacher. "Yeah. Mine does, too. We'll meet up after, yeah? I'll show you how the DR works." His fingers curl in a wave at Jennifer as he starts to dry his dishes. An enthusiastic nod is offered. "I'm a slow learner when it comes to technology. Bring out /all/ your patience, Jackson." As she sees Jackson's smile appear, so too her grin grows ever wider. Still clinging onto her coffee, she walks to the door. There, she pauses for but a moment. "And I swear, if you get suspended again? I'm going to kick your butt." Not giving him the luxury of a response, She-Hulk audaciously slips out.