2013.06.24 - You're Not From Around Here, Are You?

It's morning on a Monday. The first day of her vacation. And, although she and Scott are supposed to start their roadtrip, today, Jean Grey has made a quick trip into town to pick up some last minute supplies she should have picked up yesterday.

Chinatown wasn't exactly on her list of destinations, however. But, Chinatown is where she is, nonetheless, standing beside a rack of light summery silk scarves. She fingers a golden one lightly, looking at the delicately embroidered phoenix design in golden thread that embellishes it. The irony of her attraction to that particular motif is not lost on her. But, she can't help but appreciate the artistry.

Coming down the wall of an alley, Singularity is walking like she's on normal ground. It isn't that apparent to most as they aren't used to looking up to see someone come walking down a wall, especially since she's not climbing. It looks as though for her, the world's turned on it's side. And when she looks out into the grouping of people on the sidewalk buying and selling goods she sighs and shakes her head, soon falling to the ground and landing on her feet roughly, before standing up and walking out of the alleyway walking like a normal person, on the actual ground.

Distracted by the breeze in the streets blowing her hair lightly in one direction, she squints a bit, looking at others and walks up to the silk scarves as well. For a moment she's looking at her hair, and then the scarves, bringing her arms up to get the angle of both before sighing with a smile, "Finally!" Her tone is one of excitement.

Jean blinks some at the newcomer's excitement. If she missed the woman's wall-walking, it's only because one more mind among hundreds does little to stand out. That, and the telepath is fairly good at keeping her shields up well enough to avoid purposely reading just about everyone -- though errant surface thoughts do sometimes break through. She's pretty good at ignoring those, however.

Her ears rise, faintly, however, at the exclamation of triumph -- or excitement. Whatever it is. The telepath gives the other woman a smile. She knows all about the trouble of finding colours that go with her hair.

There's more to it than that, the woman who's with the scarves now, is looking down to her clothing and hmmming a bit. Then turning to face Jean she looks at you for a few moments and then squints, eyeing any bit of hair or clothing that flows in the wind. She smiles, "Been a long day finding something angled just right. It's great to find a scarf that goes so well with your self, isn't it? I see these scarves are going the same direction as you too. Fantastic!" Then she eyeballs her own hair, as best she can, trying to strain her eyes looking from right to left, before looking at Jean's hair as well, and she gets a small worried look for a moment, before easing again into a smile. "Perfect. Not a bit off this time."

The words are English. Each sentence makes sense -- individually. But, together? It's kind of like reading a badly dubbed movie transcript. Jean's expression becomes quizzical. She's tempted to open up her shields a little, to scan the woman's surface thoughts for meaning, but she refrains. "I'm sorry?" she says in response, instead. "You mean the wind... or?" Is she missing something?

"Uhhh, yes?" Singularity hesitates and then gives an unsure answer, watching you for a moment longer. "The wind, is angled right... too?" She looks about slowly before going back to Jean, "Is seeing the wind, normal in this country?" She looks at you and adds a smile to her lips after some moments of flat expression during her own inquiries. "I am Singularity, by the way, so rude of me not to offer my name." She puts out her hand in a firm straight angled handshake position, ready to shake your hand enthusiastically if you actually put her hand there.

For a telepath, skin-to-skin contact, makes it far, far easier to pick up a person's thoughts and emotions. Jean is, consequently, somewhat reluctant to accept the introduction. However, since it would be rude not to, she gives a wry smile and takes the hand, her second hand moving swiftly to keep her arm from being shaken off when the strange woman's enthusiasm hits her. "Singularity," she says, her smile still a little lopsided. "That's interesting name. Ah. I'm Jean."

Emotions that are not fake so much as they are derived, thoughts of many movies and tv shows from the Earth and an odd sense of looking from the outside. Singularity is not human, her emotions don't interact or move through her being like a normal human, they are triggered and focused with only extremes being available outside of neutral. She has no guards, no protections, no telepathic abilities, "Thank you, Jean. Did your parents like clothing that much?" All surface thoughts are some odd mix of current things moving about and media from the Earth from decades ago.

Wow. Talk about media flashbacks. It takes all of Jean's willpower not to physically recoil at the barrage of alien impressions -- to keep herself appearing nonchalant and normal. She inhales a deep breath as her hand is released, and reaches up to brush hair from her face as a distraction while she brings herself back under control. "Clothes are rather de rigueur, around here," she notes, clearing her throat lightly. "So, I can't say I ever thought to ask them." They're not fashionistas, to be sure. But, then, neither is she, labrat that she is.

What's particularly clear to her, however, is that the woman isn't human. And, really, the former host to the Phoenix entity is in a unique position when it comes to recognizing obscure alieness. But, she can't place this one. "So..." she says slowly. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"I am from another country." Singularity smiles big, and doesn't immediately give off any indication that she is lying, "I am from Gotham, and before that Russia." As if they are both different countries. "Does my accent give me away?" She gets a bit of a wide eyed look, though she has no abnormal accent specifically, it sounds American enough and not out of place in Metropolis.

She waits a few moments, bordering on the too long side of awkward silence before asking, "What is it that you do? Is there a nice place for coffee around here? Maybe we can sit and shoot-the-breeze?"

"Russia..." Jean says, chuckling softly. "No kidding."

Yeah. Right. Sure she is. "No, no. Your accent's fine. Just a lucky guess, on my part." She eyes the golden scarf she intended to buy, still debating its purchase. "Coffee? Ah... You know, I don't know. And, really... I'm kind of on a time limit. I'm heading off on a trip, today, and can't afford to be late getting home."

"Oh, that's no good." Singularity comments easily, "I could help you get home faster, is it an emergency trip? Something of dire need? I could help!" She exclaims and is suddenly a bit more worried, nervous 'with you', even though you aren't really getting nervous. "I'm very capable of getting places very quickly. This morning I was in Gotham, today here. Very fast. We could leave right now, if you wanted, I can take you! I know a, uh, shortcut, and you've been so nice to me." She's quickly speaking, getting more worried and nervous as she talks.

"Oh! No! No, it's fine. I'm fine. No emergency." Jean holds her hands up to forestall the woman. "It's just a vacation. If I'm late getting home, we'll be later leaving, is all. A little later arriving at the hotel."

Jean eyes the woman for a moment and then turns to pull the scarf from the rack. "The commute home, for me, really isn't any farther than going to Gotham." They're both only about 50 or so miles away, after all. She looks at the silk again and gives the woman a smile. "So, what is you do for a living?" This should be good. She reaches for her purse to find her wallet, so she can pay the shopkeep for the scarf.

"Fifty miles?" Thinking, thinking, thinking, Singularity looks to Jean, "I have to be honest, I do not know how far that is, is that a long distance or a short distance?" She wonders, "For a living, I, I..." Singularity grimaces and thinks some more, waiting, pausing, smiling big, and then offering, "I am in between jobs? I fly."

"Thank you," Jean says to the young Chinese woman that wraps her scarf for her and makes change. She glances back to Singularity over a shoulder. "About an hour or so to travel in good traffic," she notes. "Unless you take the train." Or fly. Even Jean may be flying home, at this rate.

"What sort of work are you looking for?"

"Looking for? One that is full of excitement, and shopping. Clothes shopping, or not. I hear that women are supposed to shop for clothes, we're suckers for a good deal that makes us look slim." Singularity keeps smiling, too big, and she keeps watching Jean, "What kind of jobs do you have? I could be a secretary for a big business, not knowing how to do any of the work, and funny events will happen."

Oh, boy. This is not good...

Jean regards the alien... whatever-she-is for a long moment, tucking the scarf absently into her purse as she does. "Right," she says decisively, then. "Coffee. Coffee's a great idea. I bet there are lots of places around here, if we just take a look." She gestures that Singularity should follow her, though she really hasn't a clue. She considers coaxing the woman into a taxi and taking her back to her lab in the city, where at least they can talk privately. But, it's best not to get that personal.

"Out of interest sake, Singularity, what are your favourite tv shows? Movies?"

"Oh, I do not watch TV or movies." Singularity laughs and looks around for a moment, then looks to Jean, "It rots the mind." She is much more serious about the second part of her statement and then she starts following after Jean. "Is this the way to vacation? That sounds nice. Do you vacation to foreign places? If you go to Russia I can tell you all about it, and bring you to the best places."

Jean arches a brow at that, scanning the street for a coffee shop. There's one not so far away, with a fairly quiet patio. Not, mind, that anyone around will remember hearing them, if the telepath doesn't want them to. "Really? You don't watch tv? Wow..." She chuckles, then, at the barrage of questions. "Vacation? Were going to Canada, if you consider that foreign." Some do. Some don't. The so-called Russian? Oh, who the hell knows? "So, no. Can't say Russia's on the list, currently."

"Oh, it is a beautiful country." Comments Singularity. Walking still with Jean, Singularity smiles and puts her hands behind her head and grins as she sighs, "This is the life, Jean. Good friends, vacations, coffee. I love coffee shops, so many things happen at them." Moving to the patio she immediately goes to a place and sits down, waiting for Jean to join her, "Is Canada far?" She wonders, after a few moments thinking on that subject, "Is it filled with people like you? Or more people like me?"

"Canada's far. Not as far as Russia, but far enough." Jean slides into a seat and looks at the woman. "What do you see as the difference between you and me?" she asks, unsure, otherwise, how to answer the woman.

Stopped, Singularity looks at Jean Grey for a long time and then wonders, "What do you see as the difference between you and me?" She grins, "We can make this a game. You say something, then I say something. I will understand better then what Canada is... and if it is a long distance, are you flying there? It would take a long time to walk."

"No, we're driving," Jean says. "You're right, walking would take way too long." She gives another wry smile. "We don't have to make a game of it, you know. A conversation is already a back-and-forth activity..."

Singularity ohs and smiles at Jean, "Conversation." She nods her head and waits and then adds, "Well, thank you very much for the conversation. It was very enjoyable. This coffee shop is not very, active." Singularity looks around a bit and keeps her eyes out before she says, "I will see you after your vacation and converse, with you again." Beaming she stands up and starts walking away.