[AU:BR]Not The Same Anymore(OPEN)

[François Laffont]

It had been a few weeks since Franck was back to Bellefonte and so he had been here to help preparing everything for the reunion. People had no idea how much work it could be but what else could he spend his free time doing? Babysitting his friends’ kids, now and then, yes, but he was still single if one could believe it. Single and hoping his friends would stop trying to match him up. He took him quite some time before he told them why he came back to Bellefonte. After graduating from college, he did a few more years elsewhere to specify in child psychology. That meant he moved out of the area and stayed there for a while, coming back to Kalispell only to meet with his dad.

He still remembered when he returned. He had only a few boxes and the furniture in the apartment happened to be the cheapest he could afford. It had been depressive, knowing the stylish condo he left to his ex, with said ex inside and his new love. Better not think of it again. He moved passed that but had refused so far to go into anything more serious than a man to warm his bed for the night. He was not ready for something serious and made sure to tell his friends whenever they had this oh-so-charming friend of theirs they’d like him to meet.

Officially, his return was to take the job as the school’s psychologist. He had considered it before but breaking up made up his mind on this. His place was better looking now and he settled back in nicely. He didn’t want to live with his dad again since the man remarried and he didn’t want to be intrusive.

Franck was doing the finishing touches out in the reception area. Anyone who used to know him from here would recognize the silhouette. He was older sure and had some more hair on his face but he still looked the same. Yet there was a glint in his eye that showed that even though he was still the loving and hopeful boy he used to be, he might not be as innocent. Franck lived within the past ten years. He was not as shy or as much of a doormat anymore. Well... maybe he still was a bit of a doormat.

[Demi Smith]

"Francois Laffont," the voice had a slightly clipped tone, but it came from someone who likely would be embedded in Franck's consciousness. He'd been one of those to start "turning" Demeter Smith into the woman who strode toward him now. in some ways, she looked every bit the same as the fourteen year old confused girl who'd been shipped to the school all those years ago. She still moved with the easy grace of someone who'd mastered martial arts some time ago and so internalized it that it was simply part of her. Her body still had the lean, hard look to it, if anything, she'd gotten harder as puberty had finally settled her into the woman that had always been tucked in those genes. She hadn't grown much vertically, and she still had a boyish leanneess to her, but her eyes had grown more alert and mature.

Dirt and dust still clung to bits and pieces of her as well, though not quite in the layered bits. It seemed now to be drawn in place around ankles and heels, as if just waiting to be weaponized. Her trainer's uniform didn't have so much as a speck.

The young woman looked around. "You signed up for decorating," it wasn't a question: she could see as much. She looked back to him. "It's almost odd to see you here, now," she nodded, then turned to look around again. "Sometimes the kids remind me of everyone else..." she let that trail off. So much had happened, so much to digest. She smiled and looked to Franck, raising her brows. "need help decorating? I promise not to break anything this time."

[François Laffont]

François still let most people call him Franck. After years being on American soil, it just became easier for him to respond to this nickname than his actual real name. After all, few used it, other than his father who never once called him Franck of his life. He was wondering who might call him François then, especially since this was not his father’s voice, on that he was sure. Unless his father had suddenly turned into a woman.

He could not recognize her all that well and if the voice sounded somewhat familiar, the echoes of the past were still not loud enough for him to make a connection just yet between the girl he must have known and the woman he had before his eyes. A young woman, younger than he was, he was sure of this. Though how much younger, he was not certain. She was lean, strong and looked a little hard, something that only partially had to do with the boyish way she stood.

And then he noticed the dust and he seemed to remember a young boyish girl who seemed to have a lot of dirt and dust on her whenever he met her. Some girl who, somehow, he always felt didn't like him so much. Or maybe it was just the fact she woke up a more aggressive side of him he refused then to believe he had inside. Now, Franck understood who he was a little better and knew there was violence in him, just like there was softness, passion and many other things. Perhaps there was still more kindness in him than there was violence.

“I did,” he replied although her comment didn't ask for an answer. A trainer’s uniform. Hard to believe this violent little banshee turned into a trainer. But she was here, in that uniform, proving it to him. “I work here now. Seemed like the natural thing to do,” he told her with a smile. She needed not to know how he hesitated first and why he finally accepted. He doubted she would be interested. He laughed as she proposed to help, promising not to break anything this time. “Sure, I’d love that,” he said, as he gave her some decorations to hang around. “It’s also weird to see you here. You used to hate this place.”

[Demi Smith]

The kindness and violence in Demi still warred with one another. She still adhered to the Divine Will, believed herself to be an Inherited, had literally fought for mutant rights at several points in her life. Yet she worked to help mutants that wouldn't adhere to her beliefs, honed them as much as she would someone who had only gotten their true name. She did so harshly, true, but the students who had her got results fast, and she stood no nonsense.

Didn't really socialize though, which was why she only let out a harsh little laugh as Franck pointed out that he worked there. "Yet we keep missing each other," she pointed out. She moved forward, grabbing decorations. Ten years of living amongst these people had finally given her enough experience and know-how to actually help with this, and she did so easily enough.

"Still hate it in a lot of ways," she said, her eyes flicking to Franck. "Someone who gets that should help, and many of these younglings need honed. Your soft people couldn't do it enough: too dumb," she smirked at the comment, a variation on her usual words and tone. She adjusted, pausing. "Is there some kind of theme this year? Please tell me they didn't go with precious memories," she'd heard the rumors, heard and dreaded.

[François Laffont]

If there was violence in the younger woman, Franck had grown to understand that everyone had a little inside and what was really important was how you expressed it. That didn’t mean seeing her here was not strange to him. He might have thought of Demi on occasions during his college years studying psychology, but he never really stopped to think what she was doing now with her life. “Apparently. So you’re a trainer now?” It was obvious with her attire but he preferred to make it sound like a question and let her talk to him about this. He was not sure if she noticed the slight surprise in his voice or if she couldn’t care less.

It was even weirder to see her here as she admitted hating it still. She was telling the truth although she didn’t seem to hate it as much as she used to. Or maybe he just remembered things wrong. Ten years had passed after all. Although not that much changed, as he listened to her. “So you consider yourself a hard but fair trainer?” In a way, he could understand. Many students hated coming here as they felt forced and in a way, they were. It was for their own good however. He could see her being hard on the students, pushing them so they would work to the maximum of their potential. It was how she worked herself. He kept a mental note of this, in case he ever ended up with a student complaining that their trainer was too hard on them.

His mind was taken off of business and back to the reunion with her words. “I don’t know if they made any theme but they were planning on putting many pictures of us during our school years somewhere,” he admitted. It would be weird to see each other as they were ten years ago. Franck thought he changed a lot, if not physically, at least mentally. It would be interesting to see if any difference was visible.

[Demi Smith]

"It's not apparent: it's reality," Demi replied, a bit of her old harshness creeping into her mostly clipped tone. It still galled her slightly, that many of the people she'd associated with, so many of them older than her by a handful of years, kept seeming surprised at this course of action. Much had happened in between, and it certainly wasn't Demi's fault that she'd been around for much of it. "I'm still on Security too, in charge of Squad B." Because putting an adult who'd been effectively in said group had made sense. Demi still had the goal of making B the better squad, despite the rulings on it.

"My students might not see it that way," Demi replied, moving around the room and hanging up some more of the decorations, mostly without using powers for the time being. Her height hadn't increased much, leaving her still short and boyish, but she could still manage. If nothing else, Demi knew how to use a ladder without asking too many questions.

Pictures of yesteryears. "That makes sense," Demi allowed. "I heard talk of giving us nametags that had our old pictures on them," she looked over at Franck, the wry smile tugging at her lips again. "Do you really think we wouldn't recognize each other?" Definitely unfair, given that Demi looked very little like her fourteen year old self, if only in the fact that she'd gone calm instead of quivering with that barely suppressed rage and frustration.

[François Laffont]

Now he recognized her. She was the same blunt girl as she used to be, only a few years older and looking more like a woman now. Some guys might argue she was not very ladylike and they might be right. Franck was not so good about that. He was not interested enough on women to really care about that. He remembered her dedication to her training, her view on the world and how uneasy he felt around her. Half the time, it was not even his fault, he thought. She just had a way to bring out some of the worst out of him. With some luck, the adult version of her wouldn’t make that happen. Although he was pretty sure that if they ever end up fighting, it would be over the kids’ wellbeing. Franck was not exactly as religious as he used to be as a teenager. He made peace with that part of him.

He nodded as she explained she was in charge of a security squad. He was not surprised at all. In fact, he considered it a good thing as it must help her put her violence to good use. Better it to be used in a constructive way like that than a destructive one. He smirked at her words. “Have students ever? I remember when I first came here. I thought I was making a lot of efforts but it always felt like it was not enough for my trainer. It’s hard then to realise it’s for your own good,” he replied. Franck was not going to suggest a change of trainer just because a student complained theirs was too harsh.

“Do you want a stepladder? I’ve seen one around earlier,” he asked her. She was still relatively short and Franck was trying to be helpful. It was not his fault he was taller and she shouldn’t have any complex over her height.

Nametags with pictures. He could see the sense in having nametags as not everyone would remember you but pictures too... “I hope not. I’m not sure I want to look at myself. I don’t want to realise I changed more than I thought,” he said, passing a hand through his growing beard. He really felt that, physically, this was the only major change. Maybe he started to have small wrinkles around his eyes from laughing so much. Nothing to worry about and nothing to make him believed he looked too different from his teenage self. “Well, I didn’t recognize you at first,” he pointed out. “Though it had also to do because I never thought you’d come to the reunion to begin with. Would have you, had you not been working here?” He thought not.

[Demi Smith]

Franck's questioning response to Demi's comment about the students had her letting out a rough laugh. She could remember all too well how hard it was to convince people to train or do whatever back when she'd first gotten here. Still hard, but now she had a lot more authority in the matter. "Some of us didn't fight it," she pointed out, though even she had to do it with a bit of humor in her voice. Training was pretty well the only thing Demi hadn't fought at that age.

At that age, Demi likely would have snapped at Franck for the offer or even insisted she could do it her own way. Part of her could feel that younger self almost wanting to do it again. Instead, however, she nodded to him. "I'll need one," she admitted, looking up. "Since I stopped getting taller about the time I got here," she let out another dry laugh at that.

Strange to be laughing so much, but the whole thing was almost obscenely ridiculous to Demi. she'd been through a lot, earned her spot as a skilled trainer and defender of the school and the people who lived and worked here. They'd changed, and yet there they were, catching up on "old times" and thinking back to what they'd been as teenagers. "you didn't expect to see someone so desperate to leave to be still around," Demi replied, nodding. "I still think most of you are idiots, but now I'm beating that out of people with more than just fists," a raised hand and a quick jab confirmed that Demi could still use those if it came to it. She looked up, reached for a moment, confirmed that she'd need the latter, and then directly answered the question: "If I weren't working here, there's no way I'd get this close to this much taint. But I've probably built up an immunity to it all by now." That and they did pay her to do stuff like that, for reasons that Demi herself didn't always understand.

[François Laffont]

He didn't take her comment as a snarky remark on his account. It had been hard at first and he probably struggled against it a bit at first, like most of them, but he never skipped any training session. He might not have enjoyed them as much as Demi though and that was probably what she intended to say more with her comment. That this had been probably the only thing she really liked here. “No,” he admitted with a smile.

He didn’t mean to insult her or thought she could be offended by his suggestion to get the ladder. He did get something from her. Oh, it was small and barely brushed at the surface, but he got it. He nodded when she agreed to one and went to fetch one for her. “I’d say you grew a few inches since but maybe I just remember you shorter than you really were,” he said. He could say a girl did not really have to be really tall, that it could play to her advantage but he somehow doubted she was into flirting. Maybe a little more than the young girl he remembered but still not enough to play on her charms, no doubt. Somehow, he was seeing her more falling in love with a guy from the security staff and their flirting would actually be training with each other and punching each other in the face until one chose to kiss the other or something like that. Yeah, that sounded more like her.

“So you never left after you graduated or did you return to your home before choosing to come back here?” he asked. They might be working here but that didn’t mean they could not catch up. With the amount of people Franck would try to get a hand on during the reunion, no doubt his best chance to talk to Demi was now. He smiled, surprised he could have that good a time with someone he used to try to avoid. Water under the bridge, or something like that. “I guess that means you still don’t like technology. It had grown into a fashion at some point, no? The whole ‘let’s go back to nature and stop being puppets in this materialistic world’ or something like that.”

[Demi Smith]

Demi climbed the ladder easily enough, heading up to the decorations. She didn't really see any reason to comment on her height, which really had gone up about an inch or two, or anything along those lines. The decorations themselves weren't even that worthy of commentary. Plus, they did have work to do. Demi started looping decorations and getting them more or less in place, letting Franck lead the conversation, which still felt more or less natural to her.

"Some of my clan showed up during some SPECTRE issues," Demi mentioned offhand, looking over. "We all ended up hiding in the schools for a while there, and things.. changed," Demi looked back. Things always got dark for a moment, what was important was that they moved forward after the fact. They'd grown from it, grown stronger for the most part. Demi certainly had, at the least.

His further comment had her laughing. "Yes, my people were always into that," she replied wryly. She adjusted her grip on the decorations. "And now it's in fashion," she held it for a moment, frowning, "is there a specific order to this or should I just shove it up here and say it looks good?" Which was clearly part of what she wanted to do.

[François Laffont]

It wasn't as important for a girl to be tall and this one had enough authority for anyone not dare mock her height. At least, not in her face. Franck was not the kind to laugh about it anyway. The decorations were simple. There was no need to go with a crazy budget on them. They did seem to have tried to keep a look typical of ten years ago, or what Franck seemed to remember from his high school years. That fitted with the theme of this reunion after all but Franck couldn’t help wonder if that was how those who studied in the 80’s felt whenever someone decided to make an 80’s themed party. It was kind of weird for him to think his youth might be vintage to some people.

Franck said nothing as he thought about what Demi told him. He understood how it was hard to keep the same close-minded point of view on something when you explored it. “I was luckily not there for most of those,” he said, more to himself than to her. With all the people he cared for implicated, he knew he would have lost it. He did that before and even though Franck grew in maturity, he was still not handling that kind of stress well at all.

He didn't mean to mock her ‘people’ with that hippie comment. Someone who just listened to her might think she was offended, with her tone. But he did not pick enough of that to believe that she was outraged by what he said. “If that made them feel better. Fashion’s hard to follow anyway,” he commented. Franck tended to look at what was fashionable, but it was more in terms of clothing than what kind of mentality he should have. No one would tell him how he should live his life but himself. And maybe a doctor. But not a fashion guru, never. He shrugged when she asked if she should place them according to a predetermined plan or just however she felt like. “If someone argue that was not how it was supposed to be done, I’ll just say it looks better like that. They can’t argue with me on what looks good, I’m gay and French, no one can beat that combo.”

[Demi Smith]

Luckily: Demi wasn't entirely sure she would readily agree with that sentiment, but she knew most people, especially Franck, didn't quite have her lust for battle. She might not be the overly feisty girl of so long ago, but that didn't mean that part of Demi didn't long for a fight, likely always would.

She just focused on the decoration for now, even if it was somewhat grating to even have to be doing something so frivolous. All these years later, and Demi still didn't quite get why people were interested in things like this. Seemed useless to her as a teenager and seemed even more useless to her now. Fashion, designs, all rather pointless. "I'd decorate the place with laurels and flowers," Demi said, dead serious. She definitely preferred the natural look. The reception area looked pretty darn good without all the extra in her opinion.

"Never understood you people's obsession with sex either," Demi commented, again almost offhand. She stretched up to hang some more decorations, paused to look, then worked to rearrange them. "Sex seems like such a waste of time and energy," and it always had, as far as she was concerned. Demi took a few steps back down the ladder, looked up, then nodded and looked to Franck. "Well, your naturally gifted eye see anything I'm missing there?"

[François Laffont]

Maybe it was selfish of Franck to be happy he did not take part in most of the SPECTRE incidents. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to do much on the field, if such an expression could be used. He tended to freeze in front of danger. He could have been here in the back, as support. But he knew the fear and stress people felt would only have inflamed the fear and stress he felt inside. He really thought it was best for everyone he was not there then.

He was glad Demi said nothing, even though Franck could feel she disapproved him. There was violence inside of her. She managed to channel it, something she wasn’t very good at in her youth. That violence was not in Franck though, at least not to that level. He didn't think of violence necessarily as a bad thing. It was important to have some inside, it simply depended on how one lets it out.

He put his focus back of the decoration with relief. He thought of it as she said she would have used laurels and flowers instead. “Yes... it could have look pretty nice. But I guess the nature theme was not chosen when they came up with the idea of this reunion.” As funny as the thought of Demi with a flower wreath over her head was, he could see her preferring a more natural look to this. Didn't she have power over earth after all? Still, delicate flowers and Demi didn't seem to go together. Franck didn’t tell her as much though. He didn’t want to test if her glares could kill.

He chuckled at her comment. “It’s more a guy thing than a gay thing, I’d say,” he replied, preferring not to go into more detail. Surely she wouldn’t ask for more. When she said that sex was a waste of time and energy for her, he felt reassured that she would not ask him more about this. He also thought that she must not have a lot in her life and definitely not great one to think that but what did he know? And, again, it was a comment that might reward him with a punch so he kept that to himself. Instead, he stepped back to have a better look at the room. “I might put some more over there,” he said as he pointed at the location he was talking about. “But I’d say it’s good. More isn’t always better.”

He let her down the ladder before bringing it along with the few other decorations they had to go where he wanted to place them. This time, he climbed the ladder. “Have you stayed here all this time?” he asked for conversation’s sake as he pinned down the remaining decorations.

[Demi Smith]

"Some idiot came up with it," Demi said, unable to quite stop herself. Her lips twitched again. But even Franck surely had to admit that these gaudy decorations weren't nearly as impressive as something more natural would have been. It was definitely the Inherited in Demi that made her want to go back to something more natural. That was just one more thing that she happened to feel was ultimately superior about her longtime faith, even if she had essentially grown out of much more.

The sex thing wasn't so much an Inherited thing as a Demi thing. She had to snort at his mention of the guy thing. "I just meant all you people," she said, gesturing. It wasn't really something that Demi had given a whole lot of thought to. Flat out, she simply didn't see the point of wasting all that energy. People were fine enough, and sometimes she even wondered about the whole romance thing. But sex? Pass.

But like Franck, Demi wasn't all that keen to linger on the conversation. Instead she nodded at his decoration advice and moved toward the spot indicated. "Sure," she said. She was already walking that way when he offered his question. "More or less," she responded. "I headed back home for a while, well, sort of," Demi shrugged. "That camp of them sort of moved in near the school and all... it was... weird," she didn't know how else to put that. The girl hesitated near the area, looking up. Feeling nostalgic and a little defiant, Demi extended her hand. Little motes of dirt and dust started lifting up the decoration, heading it toward the area Franck had indicated. They didn't move in the shot that she would have done in her youth: precision was the name of the game here.

[François Laffont]

“They probably wanted a theme that fit more these years,” he said with his ever so understanding nature. He could not help but to try to avoid any conflict, even when he was not the one you had something against. Not that she seemed that much angry over the one who thought this would look the best for the reunion. She even seemed sort of amused by her choice of words. He could tell her that a more natural setting would have looked good but to say it would have been better would mean demeaning someone else’s work and he couldn’t quite do that.

She was not talking about gay guys but just everyone in general. “Well... it can be really pleasant. Awesome even, when you get the right person. It just depends how you see it and your experience of the whole thing.” Was he seriously talking of sex with Demi though? If he was not as shy as before over that matter, if he could talk of it or hear about it without turning red and changing the subject, doing so with Demi, who was hardly more to him than the young girl he used to know, it was strange. And, in a way, too awkward to really be right. Best to change the subject.

“Ah yes, I remember the camp,” he let out as she brought it up, only to stare at her when she said it had been weird. A small smile came over to his lips. “Looks to me like our world started to rub off on you.” It was easy to hate it when you were forced into it and didn’t know anyone or anything of it. It was another matter when you started to live in said world for a while, started to understand how it worked and found some people who might not be entirely stupid in the end. There was nothing wrong in her being from both worlds. She just needed to find a balance. That was not of his concern however. He was here to work with the students, not the staff. “I see you improved. I had no idea you could be even better than you were already. You were pretty... badass,” he said with a little smirk when he witnessed her using her power to help attach the decoration on the ceiling.