JP and Noriko - Backdated to September 29
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om_mainNoriko and Jean-Paul cook and chat, like you do after some superspeeding.
Noriko liked speed-training with Jean-Paul for a variety of reasons, most of which had to do with the training itself. But then there was the reason that came after the training: the cooking, and then of course the eating. They hit the kitchen, and she put her gauntleted hands on her hips. "Alright. What are we doing today?"
And how could she help. She was pretty hopeless at cooking on her own, for the most part, but she held her own when Jean-Paul gave her instructions.
"That depends, grasshopper," Jean-Paul returned, leaning against the counter, "on how much of a challenge you want and what you're in the mood for. Carbs? Protein? Sweets?"
"I like that you think I'm ever not in the mood for any of those," Noriko replied wryly, but she didn't mind. She could always pick one at random, now. "Let's say protein."
"Just asking for a preference." He headed for the fridge, aiming a playful punch at Nori's shoulder in passing, though he knew full well it had no chance of landing despite his reflexes. He was quite proud of her for that, but was pretty sure she'd blow him off if he actually said it. "There's chicken thighs in here. How does stir-fry sound?"
Noriko instinctively blocked the punch with a gauntleted hand, immediately glad that it had been a playful one, and not likely to damage the device. "Sounds amazing," she confirmed, shadowing him to check that he had it right. Of course he did. "What do you want me to do?"
"Get the armor off and give me a hand with prep? And we can decide if we want a starch with this." He considered. "I know a quick pasta dough recipe if we want to get ambitious. It will probably take less time than boiling rice."
"Ambitious and quicker? I say you're on," Noriko agreed with a quirk of her lips, as she took off her gauntlets and stacked them out of the way.
"We have a plan. Flour, salt, and olive oil, apprentice!" Jean-Paul grinned and began fishing ingredients of the fridge, including the eggs they would need for the dough. "It has been a while since I've done this, so feel free to mock if this turns out to be organic rubber bands."
"As long as they're good organic rubber bands, there'll only be minimal mocking," Noriko assured him, as she moved to grab the requested ingredients out of the cupboards.
"Remind me to bully you into the Home Ec class if I wind up teaching here. I'll be sure to give you preferential treatment."
"You think that's likely to happen?" she asked with a frown, instead of telling him where he could shove his preferential treatment. She figured he knew that much, and banter mattered a lot less than his plans for the future.
"It's a possibility, depending on where I land once the dust settles," he admitted, seeking out a mixer and the measuring cups. "I think Warren's lawyers are going to keep me shielded from the worst of it, and they can't touch Raymonde or Jeanne-Marie. But they can still come at me for breach of contract, ask for damages. It all depends on what kind of message they want to send with their PR: whether they want to be seen as sympathetic to my life changes, or as punishing the cheat."
"Except you never cheated," Noriko stated. "Any chance of proving that?" Did he even want to go through the trouble of trying to prove it, since it would probably mean being poked and prodded by way too many doctors, she figured. Life fucking sucked.
"Not really. Even if I can prove I have enough control to keep from cheating, that doesn't exonerate me...it just means I have enough control to conceal the fact if I was cheating. I could pull up my times from before I manifested as proof that I've been consistent, but it still doesn't prove anything except that I wasn't stupid enough to draw attention to my abilities." He frowned as he handed her a bag of green beans. "Chop those into one inch pieces, will you? But anyway...the basic fact that I have my powers is enough to damn me." Icy blue eyes flicked up to meet hers for a moment. "Not that different from some, I guess. Just a lot more public."
"You didn't have to come out," Noriko pointed out, which was not a criticism in any way. It was his life. She was just curious what the thought process behind his decision had been.
"I didn't have to come out at this time," Jean-Paul agreed. "But there was only so long I could have hidden what I can do given the life I lead, and it would have looked worse if I was found out than if I confessed. And I hate not being in control of my life." He snorted as he started to dice the chicken. "If I have to flame out, I'd at least like to be the one at the controls. And coming out...fits with the persona I've constructed. Most people won't question it: they'll chalk it up to arrogance or stupidity and move on with their lives."
Most people were freaking stupid, if you asked Noriko. Still, she nodded understanding as she got started on the beans. A short silence, as she let her thoughts carry her where they wanted, and she spoke up when she realized where they were headed. "I've been wondering again, if I should try and call home."
"You think your parents might act less like assholes now that mutants are a public thing?"
"I think my dad might actually believe it was me," Noriko replied, which said nothing about him behaving like an asshole or not. She was sure he would. "It's not about them, anyway." It was every bit about Keitaro.
Jean-Paul nodded, understanding without her having to say explicitly what her concern was. "Do you think they would send him here if he manifested?"
"We don't even know what Japan's stance of mutants is gonna be - and I don't have a clue about my father's, now that he kinda has to believe it," Noriko replied with a shake of her head.
"One more reason to get in touch, non?" Jean-Paul went quiet for a few minutes, thoughtful. "I wonder if the mutant publicity thing is going to make it harder for the headmasters to get students here either way."
"Probably depends on each case," Noriko acknowledged after a few seconds spent thinking over the different possibilities. For all that Warren and Brian's coming-out had mostly gone over well, people remembered Elaine Dupree.
Jean-Paul nodded. "Just knowing that they are not the only ones dealing with a mutant child might make parents more willing to try and stick out a 'normal' life. Heck, it might make the kids more willing to try it too...no worries about being the only freak in the world."
"Or it might make them want to reach out to other kids like them," Noriko went on, but she was frowning as she thought of something else. "We have to make sure we don't turn into a ghetto."
"'We' as in mutants in general, or 'we' as in the school?" Jean-Paul set his chopped ingredients aside and made sure the block table top was clean.
"Both, I guess," Noriko allowed after a second, and pushed the beans over with the rest of the ingredients. "Anything else, boss?"
Jean-Paul jerked his head toward the table. "Come over here. I'm going to let you mix the pasta dough."
"O-kay," Noriko replied, joining him beside the bowl. "What's the trick?" There was always a trick.
"Not much of a trick." Jean-Paul handed her a measuring cup. "Dump four cups of flour onto the board here, then scoop a well in the center of it."
Noriko grabbed the flour and did as instructed, then did her best to make a well in the middle. "Like this?"
Jean-Paul nodded. "Oui. Good. Then you crack four eggs and a yolk into it. You know how to separate an egg?"
"Yep," Noriko confirmed, and started with the four eggs, cracking them on the edge of the counter before opening them over the mini-well. "We don't need the white for anything, right?" she asked as she grabbed a fifth egg, to go crack it over the sink so the white would end up in it.
"Not unless you plan on making an egg wash," he teased. "So after that, you add half a teaspoon of olive oil and start kneading." As he spoke, he put the skillet on for the stir fry.
Teaspoon of olive oil, check, and Noriko filed this under one more thing she really couldn't do with her gauntlets on. It took a little while, but eventually, the dough seemed good enough to her. "How's that look?"
Jean-Paul glanced over, checking to see how much of the flour had been incorporated into the off-white mass. He nodded his approval, then gave her a look that was half evil, half apologetic. "Now the fun part is kneading it for six minutes straight. It's more of a work-out than it sounds, but I can spell you if you like."
"You don't realize how much of a workout my fingers are getting every day with these babies," Noriko replied, with a nod towards the discarded gauntlets, and started kneading. "I'll be fine." Probably. Kneading was pretty relaxing, anyway.
Jean-Paul laughed and gave the pan ingredients a little flip. "It was the tedium that got to me. It's a wonder Raymonde let me into his kitchen some days."
"Tedium?" Noriko echoed with a frown. Once in a while, she still stumbled across a word she didn't know, for all that she sounded American enough. "As in tedious?" She thought it was just tediousness, really.
"As in boring as hell and requiring patience," he affirmed. "I was not so good with those."
"Well, I wouldn't be into it if I was on my own," Noriko admitted, after a second. "But with company, it really doesn't matter?" Conversation kept her mind busy, even if her hands were doing something very repetitive.
"I guess I was more of a brat when I was learning," Jean-Paul admitted.
The stir-fry was done with by the time Nori had finished the dough. Jean-Paul put a pot of water on the stove to boil. "Ordinarily, we would let the dough rest for a while, but it should be all right like this. Definitely not rubber band territory."
He floured a rolling pin. "I didn't see a pasta machine, so we'll have to go basic."
Noriko's lips quirked into a small smile as she clocked on the rolling pin. "I haven't used one of those in years," she stated, and held her hand out for it. "I used to love doing that when I was a kid. Tiny. My mom had to help me, you know?" She rarely talked about her family, but these memories dated back to so long ago.
"Hmmm." Jean-Paul smiled, almost to himself. "Now I have this adorable image of you standing on your tip toes to reach the top of a table."
Noriko shot him a wry glance, but amusement hung at the corner of her lips. "That's what stools are for, douchebag."
"Oh, hush. It's the most innocent fantasy I'm likely to have this week, so stop reminding me that you were blindingly intelligent as a child." Jean-Paul fetched the sharpest knives he could find while Nori continued her work. "What did you make? You don't seem like a biscuit sort of girl."
Noriko snorted quiet amusement at his assessment of her intelligence. "Udon?" she answered without pausing in her rolling, looking over at him to check that he did know what they were. She'd be surprised if he didn't, but who knew.
Jean-Paul's ears all but pricked up in interest. "I don't suppose you remember much of it? I have never made those sorts of noodles." He nodded down at the dough. "That is good. The next thing is to cut the pasta, since we do not have a press. I can get this part out of the way fast, but what we do is just take a sharp knife and just cut vertical fingerwidths. Care to try?"
"I was way too young, sorry," Noriko replied with a shake of her head, but made a mental note to go check it out on the internet. Maybe she could surprise Jean-Paul, between whatever recipe she could find online and her vague memories. "Sure," she then agreed to his offer, reaching for one of the knives and cutting a first slice, looking at her friend to check that she had the width right.
Jean-Paul nodded. "Just like that. There's another method, there you can fold the dough over a few times and just slice it across, but I don't think I trust this knife enough for that. Use one that's too dull and all you wind up with are squished noodles." He leaned against the counter, one eye on her work, the other on the water boiling on the stove. "I don't recall the first thing I made in Raymonde's kitchen," he admitted. "I do remember the first couple of meals with him. Hamburgers after he'd managed to catch me, and poutine the first night at his place. Those were the first times I'd felt full in a while; I think my powers were kicking in then."
"I don't think I felt full until I got here," Noriko acknowledged thoughtfully. After manifesting, obviously. "Is Jeanne-Marie the same? With food, I mean."
"Somewhat. Some days, it seems like she has a normal appetite, and others she joins me in laying waste to a table." He grinned, then looked down at the growing pile of pasta strips. "Ready to get these in the water?"
"Just about," Noriko confirmed as she cut the last of the strips of pasta. She let Jean-Paul add what he wanted to the boiling water, then gathered the pasta to drop them in the pan.
It only took a few minutes to cook and drain the noodles, then they were seated at the table with their plates. Jean-Paul twirled a bite of pasta and chicken onto his fork, sampled, and grinned. A little chewy, but not bad. "We make a good team, non?"
"In the kitchen?" Noriko smiled slightly; she was generally more relaxed around Jean-Paul than around most. "I'm good at taking instructions." She paused for a thoughtful second. "Wanna do some Danger Gym training together some time?" Because now she wondered what kind of team they would make in action.
"In general. But less specialized training together could be the genesis of something awesome." They really hadn't trained together much since Nori had figured out how her brakes worked, really. He missed it.
"Honestly, I'm up for anything," Noriko told him, between one happy forkful and the next. "The more training the better." And she trusted Jean-Paul; she wouldn't be where she was without him.
"We can probably adapt one of the regimens I use with Jeanne-Marie," he said. He tapped the butt of his fork against the table as he thought. "It might be interesting to see how it holds up against someone not moving in synch with me."
"You mean you guys actually - move in synch?" she reused his phrase, because she couldn't think of another way to put it. That one was pretty much perfect, but she hadn't known, if that was the case.
"It happens sometimes," Jean-Paul admitted. "Usually when we perform a common activity in proximity. We either move as one or anticipate each other better than two people without telepathy should. Finishing sentences and such."
Noriko nodded thoughtfully; it made sense to her. "That's gotta come in really handy in the Danger Gym." She frowned curiously. "Did the headmasters keep you apart on purpose? In the squads, I mean."
"I suspect so," Jean-Paul said, chasing his next bite with a sip of water. "I don't exactly like it, but I can see the logic in it. Our powers bleed into each other as well, so there's some sense in having us determine our separate limits."
"And figuring out how best to work without each other," Noriko agreed. "It's not like it stops you training together." Clearly.
"It works well, I think. We both use our primary powers in squad training, then use what we learn there to help each other hone our secondaries when we train together. Jeanne-Marie still does not like it, though, that assumption that we should be -- will be -- apart."
"Does she always expect to be able to be around you?" Noriko asked with a frown, because to her, it seemed downright necessary for them to train apart as well as together, since it changed things.
"We spent sixteen years apart." Jean-Paul shrugged. "I think the idea of being deliberately separated again, even in something as small as this, doesn't sit well with her."
This made very little sense to Noriko, when they were separated in bigger things too (like dorms), but it made little sense because it was about feelings, and that made it none of her business. "Clearly," she simply agreed, and moved on. "Anyway, I'd love to try those regimens with you."
"Name a time and place," Jean-Paul said, a playful challenge in his voice. "I'll even dial back on the aerial portions."
Noriko made a face, but it was more fond amusement than actual irritation. "Yeah, that's probably for the best."
Noriko liked speed-training with Jean-Paul for a variety of reasons, most of which had to do with the training itself. But then there was the reason that came after the training: the cooking, and then of course the eating. They hit the kitchen, and she put her gauntleted hands on her hips. "Alright. What are we doing today?"
And how could she help. She was pretty hopeless at cooking on her own, for the most part, but she held her own when Jean-Paul gave her instructions.
"That depends, grasshopper," Jean-Paul returned, leaning against the counter, "on how much of a challenge you want and what you're in the mood for. Carbs? Protein? Sweets?"
"I like that you think I'm ever not in the mood for any of those," Noriko replied wryly, but she didn't mind. She could always pick one at random, now. "Let's say protein."
"Just asking for a preference." He headed for the fridge, aiming a playful punch at Nori's shoulder in passing, though he knew full well it had no chance of landing despite his reflexes. He was quite proud of her for that, but was pretty sure she'd blow him off if he actually said it. "There's chicken thighs in here. How does stir-fry sound?"
Noriko instinctively blocked the punch with a gauntleted hand, immediately glad that it had been a playful one, and not likely to damage the device. "Sounds amazing," she confirmed, shadowing him to check that he had it right. Of course he did. "What do you want me to do?"
"Get the armor off and give me a hand with prep? And we can decide if we want a starch with this." He considered. "I know a quick pasta dough recipe if we want to get ambitious. It will probably take less time than boiling rice."
"Ambitious and quicker? I say you're on," Noriko agreed with a quirk of her lips, as she took off her gauntlets and stacked them out of the way.
"We have a plan. Flour, salt, and olive oil, apprentice!" Jean-Paul grinned and began fishing ingredients of the fridge, including the eggs they would need for the dough. "It has been a while since I've done this, so feel free to mock if this turns out to be organic rubber bands."
"As long as they're good organic rubber bands, there'll only be minimal mocking," Noriko assured him, as she moved to grab the requested ingredients out of the cupboards.
"Remind me to bully you into the Home Ec class if I wind up teaching here. I'll be sure to give you preferential treatment."
"You think that's likely to happen?" she asked with a frown, instead of telling him where he could shove his preferential treatment. She figured he knew that much, and banter mattered a lot less than his plans for the future.
"It's a possibility, depending on where I land once the dust settles," he admitted, seeking out a mixer and the measuring cups. "I think Warren's lawyers are going to keep me shielded from the worst of it, and they can't touch Raymonde or Jeanne-Marie. But they can still come at me for breach of contract, ask for damages. It all depends on what kind of message they want to send with their PR: whether they want to be seen as sympathetic to my life changes, or as punishing the cheat."
"Except you never cheated," Noriko stated. "Any chance of proving that?" Did he even want to go through the trouble of trying to prove it, since it would probably mean being poked and prodded by way too many doctors, she figured. Life fucking sucked.
"Not really. Even if I can prove I have enough control to keep from cheating, that doesn't exonerate me...it just means I have enough control to conceal the fact if I was cheating. I could pull up my times from before I manifested as proof that I've been consistent, but it still doesn't prove anything except that I wasn't stupid enough to draw attention to my abilities." He frowned as he handed her a bag of green beans. "Chop those into one inch pieces, will you? But anyway...the basic fact that I have my powers is enough to damn me." Icy blue eyes flicked up to meet hers for a moment. "Not that different from some, I guess. Just a lot more public."
"You didn't have to come out," Noriko pointed out, which was not a criticism in any way. It was his life. She was just curious what the thought process behind his decision had been.
"I didn't have to come out at this time," Jean-Paul agreed. "But there was only so long I could have hidden what I can do given the life I lead, and it would have looked worse if I was found out than if I confessed. And I hate not being in control of my life." He snorted as he started to dice the chicken. "If I have to flame out, I'd at least like to be the one at the controls. And coming out...fits with the persona I've constructed. Most people won't question it: they'll chalk it up to arrogance or stupidity and move on with their lives."
Most people were freaking stupid, if you asked Noriko. Still, she nodded understanding as she got started on the beans. A short silence, as she let her thoughts carry her where they wanted, and she spoke up when she realized where they were headed. "I've been wondering again, if I should try and call home."
"You think your parents might act less like assholes now that mutants are a public thing?"
"I think my dad might actually believe it was me," Noriko replied, which said nothing about him behaving like an asshole or not. She was sure he would. "It's not about them, anyway." It was every bit about Keitaro.
Jean-Paul nodded, understanding without her having to say explicitly what her concern was. "Do you think they would send him here if he manifested?"
"We don't even know what Japan's stance of mutants is gonna be - and I don't have a clue about my father's, now that he kinda has to believe it," Noriko replied with a shake of her head.
"One more reason to get in touch, non?" Jean-Paul went quiet for a few minutes, thoughtful. "I wonder if the mutant publicity thing is going to make it harder for the headmasters to get students here either way."
"Probably depends on each case," Noriko acknowledged after a few seconds spent thinking over the different possibilities. For all that Warren and Brian's coming-out had mostly gone over well, people remembered Elaine Dupree.
Jean-Paul nodded. "Just knowing that they are not the only ones dealing with a mutant child might make parents more willing to try and stick out a 'normal' life. Heck, it might make the kids more willing to try it too...no worries about being the only freak in the world."
"Or it might make them want to reach out to other kids like them," Noriko went on, but she was frowning as she thought of something else. "We have to make sure we don't turn into a ghetto."
"'We' as in mutants in general, or 'we' as in the school?" Jean-Paul set his chopped ingredients aside and made sure the block table top was clean.
"Both, I guess," Noriko allowed after a second, and pushed the beans over with the rest of the ingredients. "Anything else, boss?"
Jean-Paul jerked his head toward the table. "Come over here. I'm going to let you mix the pasta dough."
"O-kay," Noriko replied, joining him beside the bowl. "What's the trick?" There was always a trick.
"Not much of a trick." Jean-Paul handed her a measuring cup. "Dump four cups of flour onto the board here, then scoop a well in the center of it."
Noriko grabbed the flour and did as instructed, then did her best to make a well in the middle. "Like this?"
Jean-Paul nodded. "Oui. Good. Then you crack four eggs and a yolk into it. You know how to separate an egg?"
"Yep," Noriko confirmed, and started with the four eggs, cracking them on the edge of the counter before opening them over the mini-well. "We don't need the white for anything, right?" she asked as she grabbed a fifth egg, to go crack it over the sink so the white would end up in it.
"Not unless you plan on making an egg wash," he teased. "So after that, you add half a teaspoon of olive oil and start kneading." As he spoke, he put the skillet on for the stir fry.
Teaspoon of olive oil, check, and Noriko filed this under one more thing she really couldn't do with her gauntlets on. It took a little while, but eventually, the dough seemed good enough to her. "How's that look?"
Jean-Paul glanced over, checking to see how much of the flour had been incorporated into the off-white mass. He nodded his approval, then gave her a look that was half evil, half apologetic. "Now the fun part is kneading it for six minutes straight. It's more of a work-out than it sounds, but I can spell you if you like."
"You don't realize how much of a workout my fingers are getting every day with these babies," Noriko replied, with a nod towards the discarded gauntlets, and started kneading. "I'll be fine." Probably. Kneading was pretty relaxing, anyway.
Jean-Paul laughed and gave the pan ingredients a little flip. "It was the tedium that got to me. It's a wonder Raymonde let me into his kitchen some days."
"Tedium?" Noriko echoed with a frown. Once in a while, she still stumbled across a word she didn't know, for all that she sounded American enough. "As in tedious?" She thought it was just tediousness, really.
"As in boring as hell and requiring patience," he affirmed. "I was not so good with those."
"Well, I wouldn't be into it if I was on my own," Noriko admitted, after a second. "But with company, it really doesn't matter?" Conversation kept her mind busy, even if her hands were doing something very repetitive.
"I guess I was more of a brat when I was learning," Jean-Paul admitted.
The stir-fry was done with by the time Nori had finished the dough. Jean-Paul put a pot of water on the stove to boil. "Ordinarily, we would let the dough rest for a while, but it should be all right like this. Definitely not rubber band territory."
He floured a rolling pin. "I didn't see a pasta machine, so we'll have to go basic."
Noriko's lips quirked into a small smile as she clocked on the rolling pin. "I haven't used one of those in years," she stated, and held her hand out for it. "I used to love doing that when I was a kid. Tiny. My mom had to help me, you know?" She rarely talked about her family, but these memories dated back to so long ago.
"Hmmm." Jean-Paul smiled, almost to himself. "Now I have this adorable image of you standing on your tip toes to reach the top of a table."
Noriko shot him a wry glance, but amusement hung at the corner of her lips. "That's what stools are for, douchebag."
"Oh, hush. It's the most innocent fantasy I'm likely to have this week, so stop reminding me that you were blindingly intelligent as a child." Jean-Paul fetched the sharpest knives he could find while Nori continued her work. "What did you make? You don't seem like a biscuit sort of girl."
Noriko snorted quiet amusement at his assessment of her intelligence. "Udon?" she answered without pausing in her rolling, looking over at him to check that he did know what they were. She'd be surprised if he didn't, but who knew.
Jean-Paul's ears all but pricked up in interest. "I don't suppose you remember much of it? I have never made those sorts of noodles." He nodded down at the dough. "That is good. The next thing is to cut the pasta, since we do not have a press. I can get this part out of the way fast, but what we do is just take a sharp knife and just cut vertical fingerwidths. Care to try?"
"I was way too young, sorry," Noriko replied with a shake of her head, but made a mental note to go check it out on the internet. Maybe she could surprise Jean-Paul, between whatever recipe she could find online and her vague memories. "Sure," she then agreed to his offer, reaching for one of the knives and cutting a first slice, looking at her friend to check that she had the width right.
Jean-Paul nodded. "Just like that. There's another method, there you can fold the dough over a few times and just slice it across, but I don't think I trust this knife enough for that. Use one that's too dull and all you wind up with are squished noodles." He leaned against the counter, one eye on her work, the other on the water boiling on the stove. "I don't recall the first thing I made in Raymonde's kitchen," he admitted. "I do remember the first couple of meals with him. Hamburgers after he'd managed to catch me, and poutine the first night at his place. Those were the first times I'd felt full in a while; I think my powers were kicking in then."
"I don't think I felt full until I got here," Noriko acknowledged thoughtfully. After manifesting, obviously. "Is Jeanne-Marie the same? With food, I mean."
"Somewhat. Some days, it seems like she has a normal appetite, and others she joins me in laying waste to a table." He grinned, then looked down at the growing pile of pasta strips. "Ready to get these in the water?"
"Just about," Noriko confirmed as she cut the last of the strips of pasta. She let Jean-Paul add what he wanted to the boiling water, then gathered the pasta to drop them in the pan.
It only took a few minutes to cook and drain the noodles, then they were seated at the table with their plates. Jean-Paul twirled a bite of pasta and chicken onto his fork, sampled, and grinned. A little chewy, but not bad. "We make a good team, non?"
"In the kitchen?" Noriko smiled slightly; she was generally more relaxed around Jean-Paul than around most. "I'm good at taking instructions." She paused for a thoughtful second. "Wanna do some Danger Gym training together some time?" Because now she wondered what kind of team they would make in action.
"In general. But less specialized training together could be the genesis of something awesome." They really hadn't trained together much since Nori had figured out how her brakes worked, really. He missed it.
"Honestly, I'm up for anything," Noriko told him, between one happy forkful and the next. "The more training the better." And she trusted Jean-Paul; she wouldn't be where she was without him.
"We can probably adapt one of the regimens I use with Jeanne-Marie," he said. He tapped the butt of his fork against the table as he thought. "It might be interesting to see how it holds up against someone not moving in synch with me."
"You mean you guys actually - move in synch?" she reused his phrase, because she couldn't think of another way to put it. That one was pretty much perfect, but she hadn't known, if that was the case.
"It happens sometimes," Jean-Paul admitted. "Usually when we perform a common activity in proximity. We either move as one or anticipate each other better than two people without telepathy should. Finishing sentences and such."
Noriko nodded thoughtfully; it made sense to her. "That's gotta come in really handy in the Danger Gym." She frowned curiously. "Did the headmasters keep you apart on purpose? In the squads, I mean."
"I suspect so," Jean-Paul said, chasing his next bite with a sip of water. "I don't exactly like it, but I can see the logic in it. Our powers bleed into each other as well, so there's some sense in having us determine our separate limits."
"And figuring out how best to work without each other," Noriko agreed. "It's not like it stops you training together." Clearly.
"It works well, I think. We both use our primary powers in squad training, then use what we learn there to help each other hone our secondaries when we train together. Jeanne-Marie still does not like it, though, that assumption that we should be -- will be -- apart."
"Does she always expect to be able to be around you?" Noriko asked with a frown, because to her, it seemed downright necessary for them to train apart as well as together, since it changed things.
"We spent sixteen years apart." Jean-Paul shrugged. "I think the idea of being deliberately separated again, even in something as small as this, doesn't sit well with her."
This made very little sense to Noriko, when they were separated in bigger things too (like dorms), but it made little sense because it was about feelings, and that made it none of her business. "Clearly," she simply agreed, and moved on. "Anyway, I'd love to try those regimens with you."
"Name a time and place," Jean-Paul said, a playful challenge in his voice. "I'll even dial back on the aerial portions."
Noriko made a face, but it was more fond amusement than actual irritation. "Yeah, that's probably for the best."
