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MCA #1, Sunday Evening
Jul. 6th, 2008 10:27 pmJean-Paul Beaubier had a black eye and a duffel bag when he landed on the balcony of his apartment on Fandom. He let himself in with his key, threw the duffel down, and went to the freezer for a package of frozen peas for the eye. Then he dug his cell phone out of his pocket to call Scott Summers.
"He is not coming back--I do not know, Scott, it might have something to do with how you suck. And I botched it, too. He has PTSD, and now he has run away from home, so. I suppose we are thrilled with our success? No, I am not coming back, either. I was there two hours ago. I packed my things and said goodbye to my sister. So. Goodbye." He hung up the phone and left it on the counter as he leafed through his accumulated mail. Something from the school caught his eye.
"Fantastique," he muttered when he saw he was to resume teaching in the morning. At least the subject matter looked like he could do it in his sleep.
((Open to anyone with reason to be at Jean-Paul and Lulu's?))
"He is not coming back--I do not know, Scott, it might have something to do with how you suck. And I botched it, too. He has PTSD, and now he has run away from home, so. I suppose we are thrilled with our success? No, I am not coming back, either. I was there two hours ago. I packed my things and said goodbye to my sister. So. Goodbye." He hung up the phone and left it on the counter as he leafed through his accumulated mail. Something from the school caught his eye.
"Fantastique," he muttered when he saw he was to resume teaching in the morning. At least the subject matter looked like he could do it in his sleep.
((Open to anyone with reason to be at Jean-Paul and Lulu's?))
