Pizza. Meatlovers, as it was. From the freezer. Unwrapped from the box and popped into the oven. It would take twenty-five minutes. He had been waiting for exactly thirteen minutes and sixteen secon- nineteen seconds now. And during that time, the one thought that dominated all others had been, 'what the hell are you doing, Berzerker'. Oh well. It was dinner, not a conference, a debate, or even a date. All things considered, he could have said worse. He still wanted to know what the redhead was doing though. He was starting to get the feeling that she genuinely just wanted to 'get to know him'. Which was a disturbing thought in some ways. Why in topside would anyone want to do that?

Hm, seventeen minutes. The pizza was starting to smell good. He was sitting on one of the stools by the counter in the kitchen, not bothering to go to the dining room table yet. Actually, he did most of his eating (if he did it in the kitchen/dining room) sitting at the counter. It made more sense since he didn't have company. Strangely enough, the dining room was empty at the moment, a rare thing for the crowded mansion, but then again, it was a little late for dinner.

What was taking the redhead so long? Granted, she did have to go change and whatnot as she had said, and had suggested that they meet in the kitchen in fifteen or so minutes, but he had just washed off some grease from the car before stepping into the kitchen to put the pizza in. It wasn't like he had any reason to change, after all, since he had already been in comfortable clothing (though this was always), and his blue jeans and plain black t-shirt did fine for any occasion in his opinion. Of course, he did consider the phrase 'dress code' to be 'having clothing on'. It wasn't as if he had much of a variety in clothes to begin with however; he was quite limited when it came to that, and to possessions in general. He could fit all his clothes into one duffel bag and it still wouldn't be quite full, and he really didn't have any particular other belongings.

He turned at hearing footsteps nearing the kitchen entrance.

Once Jean arrived at her room she closed the door and began to strip. She was quick about it and a pair of jeans along with a fitted t-shirt flew across the room towards her so she could just grab them from the air. She did not want to keep Bezerker waiting, for a moment she paused and wondered what his real name was, but she didn’t want to push it. All she knew was that he went by Bezerker. She slid the jeans on and a t-shirt that was completely awesome. It had a bird in a fake pocket, and it looked so cute. Add that it fit her like a second skin and she loved the shirt. Someone had gotten it for her for her birthday, although she had forgotten who.

After running a brush through her hair she dashed out the door and began to book it down the hall in her sneakers. Once she was within hearing distance of the kitchen she slowed down and began to walk. She just didn’t want to be late, add to it she didn’t want to look flustered when she walked in the door. The smell of pizza hit her and she couldn’t help but smile nice and big when she walked in the door. Jean’s stomach rumbled again as she looked at him then towards the oven. “That smells great.”

She headed over to the fridge and began to look for something to drink, normal she would grab a bottle of water but a can of coke sounded so good to her at the present moment in time. Jean glanced over her shoulder at Bezerker who was sitting on one of the stools. “What do you want?” She motioned to the can of coke that she had place on the counter where she was going to sit. It was across from him so that they wouldn’t ‘crowd’ each other being on the same side. Plus, they could make eye contact easier that way.

“That smells great.”
He shrugged, not commenting. It wasn't as if he had made it; all he had done was toss it in the oven.
He noted that she had indeed changed. The redhair stood out more against the white t-shirt. He did note that even without the heels and just the simple t-shirt and jeans, she had a slight hint of glamour. Not the flashy kind, but a softer, more pervasive kind. He had heard that she modelled however, so it was to be expected to some degree, he supposed.

“What do you want?”
He regarded question and responded indifferently. "Whatever." He wasn't known to be picky, and that was because he really, really wasn't. Not when it came to living quarters (though this was a given considering the fact that his permanent address was located in underground tunnels), not when it came to food, and not when it came to drinks. Although he did have some issues with the alcohol ban in the mansion. What was with that anyway.

He glanced at the clock; seven minutes left. Seven minutes. Seven long minutes. Seven minutes was about... seven times his normal length of conversation. The next seven minutes would be an example of the rest of the dinner, though perhaps worse than the actual dinner as they were not eating and thus had little in the way of distractions.

When the redhead got him the drink and sat down across from him, he merely looked at her, a slight nod for the drink but nothing more. Well, she should know by now not to expect him to start a conversation.

Since had didn't seem to care about what he drank she also pulled out a can of coke for him. After setting it in front of him at the counter she took a seat at the counter like she had planned. She popped the top of her coke open a took a sip. It was nice and refreshing, bubbling down her throat. It did seem like he only spoke in one word sentences. Now was her chance to try and change that, or even to get him to talk. “If you want to work on a car, you can take a shot at mine. As long as it runs when you are done with it, I am ok with that...” Jean lifted her can up and took another sip. She didn't mind if he wanted to work on her car, it wasn't a big deal as long as it would run afterwards.

Now, it would suck if he started to work on it and everything went wrong. Giving him something to do was a good idea and it would keep his busy. Jean glanced over at the clock wondering how much longer the pizza was going to be. Since she didn't want to move from her spot on her stool, she just glanced over at the draw that had the paper plates in it. The drawer opened and the stack of paper plates flew upwards before setting on the counter. Then the drawer closed itself.

Jean glanced back at Bezerker wondering how he was going to react. Hopefully his thing about telepathics did not extend to telekinetic activities. “So what can you do with your powers? I know if revolved around electricity but...” She looks thoughtful for a moment, “..thats it...”

“If you want to work on a car, you can take a shot at mine. As long as it runs when you are done with it, I am ok with that...”
She in the least seemed quite intent on conversation. And 'getting along' in general, considering her offer. Though the second sentence trailing off seemed less than confident in his capabilities regarding car skills.
"I'm competent, if you're implying otherwise," he stated bluntly as the paper plates settled in front of them. Convenient. And he had no issues of suspicions when it came to telekinetic powers. After all he had no problems with Hellion. It was just telepaths that he did not trust to a greater extent than his norm.

“So what can you do with your powers? I know if revolved around electricity but...thats it...”
He didn't like to bother with describing his powers, and usually just blew up the nearest lightbulb to illustrate them. It was a form of explanation that also served to usually end the conversation, and it was convenient. At the moment however, if he blew up the kitchen light, they'd just be stuck in the dark waiting for the pizza to finish cooking, and the redhead would probably still try to carry out conversation. So instead he nodded towards the nearby radio, raising a hand to release a very mild stream of electrical energy at the radio, causing it to turn on. It gave the weather forecast for the night and following morning briefly before he turned it off.

"Usually I cause explosions."
Of course he could have just blown up the radio, but he had the feeling the redhead would still be continuing with the conversation and dinner and he would just have a fried radio for no good reason.

“Well, it is always good to check just encase. I might know nothing about my baby but I love her all the same.” That was the truth, how did she know that he hadn't been trying to short out that car earlier since the owner had pissed him off. You never quite knew, usually she did but Jean of his dislike for telepaths and she didn't want to increase that at all. Jean waited for his answer about his powers and watched as he turned the radio on and let it play for a moment.

A slight smile came to her face, it was still interesting for her to see's others powers no matter how old that she became. His added sentence made her raise her eyebrows ever so slightly, but what could she really say. “From want or accident?” Now, this question would tell a lot about him, if he said want, yeah he had some problems. If he said accident she could talk about that for hours. Her eyes flickered over to the clock wondering how much longer that pizza was going to take. It wasn't that she didn't want to get to know him, it was just like pulling teeth and that could wear a girl out.

“So, why don't you like telepaths?” Jean looked back at him, straight in the eyes, she really wanted a straight answer for this. Yet, she did feel slightly bad since she was bringing this back up yet again.

"From want or accident?"
She was actually asking that. To him.
Then again, she had asked him to... dinner. It was pretty clear she wasn't ordinary and she had something of a daring streak. He vaguely respected her for it and decided not to illustrate his answer and took the verbal route.
"Want. Mostly."

It was true it was on occasion accidental, particularly when he was angry. His control over his powers had grown significantly from his earlier years, but they were not perfect. He released more energy without meaning to when he was angry, and this had been the reason that the telepath, Xavier, had 'provided' him with control gloves as part of his uniform (which he had yet to ever wear). To make sure that he didn't accidentally fatally attack someone. The telepathic man claimed good intentions, and Berzerker believed it to some extent, but it was still insulting in his mind. The telepath didn't believe he could control his own powers. He was far from some uncontrolled teenager that needed control devices. He protected the underground. He had control enough for that, and he had control enough for any topsider. He didn’t use his powers against humans, and he always kept his powers in check when he was fighting. He didn't even fight without reason, though he admitted the reasons were sometimes less than worth an entire fight. He knew his name wasn't 'Berzerker' without reason. In fact there were a multitude of very strong reasons for his name, and he accepted that. But it was one thing when his underground friends commented on it and another when a topsider who didn't know him did.

"So, why don't you like telepaths?"
She was daring. He gave her a plain and blunt answer as he would with anyone, but it was rather more informative than any of the other answers he had provided when the same question had been asked before (which had mostly been along the lines of, 'I don’t like most people', which was quite true, if not very informative, and also served for good timing for the other person to leave).
"I don't like the thought of anyone messing around in my head."

So, he liked to blow things up with his power, that said a lot about him. At the present moment in time she wished she was taking something like psychology so she really did know what that said about him besides what she was guessing. His name was Bezerker for a reason and it did seem to fit. Jean did want to hear the answer to her second question which also was an informative question to ask. Yet she had heard every answer in the book for the response for this question since she was telepathic.

Jean nodded her head lightly, his answer of someone messing inside of his head was one that she could not blame him for. She wouldn't want someone messing around inside of her head either. “I can understand that...” Now the question was how could she use this to her advantage. There were a couple of ways to do that, she just needed to get it right. “I don't know if you have met Storm yet but because she had electrical powers it interferes with telepathy. Static electricity seems to do that, so you might have some basic protections against that. For the record though I have never 'messed' with anyones head, and I try not to hear what others are thinking unless the situation deems it.” Maybe now he would warm up to her, at least in a few that pizza would be done and they would have something to distract them with.

She didn't mind doing most of the talking she just wished that the situation didn't seem so awkward. Jean just wanted to be friendly and show that she wasn't going to bite him, unless he wanted her to. He did have that bad boy look, that she seemed to lean to. Yet, one word answers weren't her type. “Plus, it is not like I chose to be a telepath, there are times where I wish that I wasn't...” A good example was with what happened at school today. One moment not paying attention and she was hearing everything that was going on. It was distracting and took a lot of control.

"I can understand that... I don't know if you have met Storm yet but because she had electrical powers it interferes with telepathy. Static electricity seems to do that, so you might have some basic protections against that. For the record though I have never 'messed' with anyones head, and I try not to hear what others are thinking unless the situation deems it."
He could give her the benefit of the doubt. But it didn't help the fact that what she 'deemed to be the situation' could be quite different from what he 'deemed' to require it. In fact, he had hardly any situations in mind that would deem a need for telepathic prying.

It was an interesting tidbit of information however, regarding Storm. He hadn’t known that the woman's powers interfered with telepathy. He actually did not know if it worked similarly for him, but then again, he hadn’t enough experience with telepaths to know. Simply said, he hadn’t enough time spent with telepaths to know. After all, his first word to a telepath was, ‘don’t use telepathy’; not to mention the fact that he hardly sought them out, and the only one he talked to for more than a few second's greeting had been Xavier, who had made a point of not using his powers at all in his company. Well, and now, Red here, but he was less skeptical of her than he was of Xavier for some reason.

"Plus, it is not like I chose to be a telepath, there are times where I wish that I wasn't..."
It wasn’t that he blamed her for being a telepath or anything. A mutant didn’t choose their powers. If they did, he knew a lot of mutants that wouldn’t have chosen theirs. But it didn’t matter. She had her powers and this was a fact that could not be changed. And he didn’t have enough trust for normal topsiders, much less telepathic ones.
"Choice or not, I don't like telepaths."
Then again, here he was having dinner with one. He decided not to respect the thought with justifcation and instead ignored it.
"No one gets to choose their powers, but they still have to deal with the consequences." A way of saying, 'consider my general dislike of telepathy to be a part of your consequences.'

Fortunately for quite the potential significant rise in awkwardness in the room, the oven timer went off just then, indicating that the pizza was done.

“Hey, at least I tried, but you can work on telepathic resistance.” Jean nodded her head at the last question, which was true enough. She only remembered a few things before she had gone into her coma, not much. It was probably for the best since she had almost died from it, along with her friend, Anna. Her look became very serious for a moment then she shook her head as the timer went off. Jean smiled again and glanced over at the oven. The smell of pizza was in the air and boy was it good. She focused her eyes and the oven door popped open, and more of the smell escaped. The pizza moved up into the air very genitally before setting itself on the counter between them. It felt good to use her powers and she tried to get practice in between her busy schedule but it could be so hard sometimes.

Jean stood up from her chair and began to look through the drawers for the pizza cutter. She actually didn't know where it was. Finally she spotted it on the counter in a jar and she couldn't help but feel slightly dumb. Jean also grabbed a oven mite since she didn't want to use her powers to cut the pizza, just encase she slipped which would not be good at this point. Jean then slipped the oven mite on and began to cut the pizza up. Once that she good she tossed the pizza cutting into the sink and sat back down. “Let's eat.” She grabbed a slice to start with and her mouth began to water just looking at the meat covered slice of heaven. A day with no lunch left her really hungry and this pizza was a great idea for something quick to eat.

For a second her expression changed, taking a turn for seriousness, but as the timer went off she shook her head and smiled again. He noted once more the telekinetic powers as the pizza let itself down on the counter between them, but it seemed the redhead was limiting it some, searching for a pizza cutter. He briefly wondered if it had anything to do with his expressed dislike of telepathic powers, which some had taken to be a dislike of psionic powers in general. The redhead seemed to be one of those people that actually made an effort to make others comfortable, so it was possible. But now he was probably starting to over-contemplate the intents of others in something as simple as cutting pizza. This was why Scaleface told him he was a brooder, despite his negation of the claim.

“Let's eat.”
He had already been reaching for a slice, as unhesitant as she was to start eating. He was hungry after all. Plus, pizza was a nice diversion from all this... talking. He was really beginning to think the redhead had no ulterior motives other than to... 'get to know him'. He could almost tag it as a telepath thing, fact being that only the two telepaths he had come into contact with had been so interested in 'getting to know him', but he was guessing it was mere coincidence of situations and personalities.

Well one way to get the topic off him was to shift it to her. And there was really only one thing he was mildly interested in knowing about the redhead. As an underground mutant, he didn't use his human name. Topsiders at the Institute seemed to note his name as a 'codename' in their words, but that was mistaken thinking-- 'Berzerker' was his name. Still, the others he had come across in the mansion had taken up a 'codename' as they called it. Granted he hadn't come across all that many, but regardless it was true.
"Why don't you use a codename, Red." The question was too apathetic in tone to be a full-fledged question, rather just a comment. He phrased it as a 'codename' because that was what it was to these topsiders.

Finally Jean took a bit of pure bliss, the wonderful taste of the pizza filled her mouth and she was content. Food was such a good thing especially after a long day. It only took a few more bites and her first slice was toast. She took a moment to drink some of her Coke, glad for the sugary calcium leeching drink. Jean was studying to be a doctor but that didn't mean she had to eat perfect all the time, she just only splurged every once in while, instead of making it a daily thing like some people.

It was while she was taking a sip of the soda that Bezerker asked her the question about the code name. Jean set the soda can down and reached for another slice. Others had asked her this before and she usually just shrug it off. “I don't know. My parents named me Jean, so I stick with it. I have never seen the need for a codename. Why separate myself from other people just because I am a mutant?..” She shook her head lightly unsure of how to continued. Instead of continuing she took that moment to take a bite of her second slice which she had been holding onto. She used the moments as she was chewing to really think about it.

“It is probably because Xavier doesn't have one, and he was the first mutant I met.... You could say that he has been my role model since it became apparent that I was a mutant.” Jean took yet another bite satisfied with her answer. “Why do you have a codename?” She didn't mind that he was asking questions about her, in fact she enjoyed it. Maybe he was actually showing her some interest, or at least it seemed maybe he did want to talk. This could be a sign that he did enjoy some contact with other people, that had been something that she had been unsure. He seemed like the loner type.

“I don't know. My parents named me Jean, so I stick with it. I have never seen the need for a codename. Why separate myself from other people just because I am a mutant?..”
'Other people' she phrased it. Humans of course. Humans as opposed to mutants. Her reasoning was something he didn't agree with on the most basic of levels. She considered herself a part of the general population of people, mutants and humans alike in the same category. He considered humans and mutants separate. Not as separate as the topside and underground difference in his mind, but distinctly, undeniably separate.
It really was just a 'codename' to her.

He had the feeling they'd disagree about most things if their ideas clashed at this basic level. Then again, the basics were the grounds for all beliefs. And yet again... despite the clash, he found no particular disdain for her though that would be the most likely underground reaction. He realized this, and consequently, another thought: he was spending too much time topside. He had to be careful, be more alert, more wary and skeptical. If he stopped being cautious, the underground would take the fall.

He finished the first slice and did not comment further though it seemed she might have finished her explanation. After a brief moment's pause of eating the pizza however, she spoke up again, as he reached for his coke.
“It is probably because Xavier doesn't have one, and he was the first mutant I met.... You could say that he has been my role model since it became apparent that I was a mutant.”
The telepath was her role model. Well... that figured. The telepath really had a knack for finding mutants and offering things. Most notably a safe home and acceptance as the man had claimed to him, but he had noted as well that the man was obviously a guiding figure to the residents of the manor. It placed the man in slightly better lights in his opinion, but not enough that he would even begin to consider a more permanent arrangement than his presently 'provisional' status, as he was sure to mention whenever he felt necessary.

“Why do you have a codename?”
Disagreement on basic concepts or not, that was a question that was phrased entirely too unagreeably for Berzerker. He paused from the bite of pizza and his gaze was notably colder as he responded.
"It's not a 'codename'."

Jeans eyes opened up wide at his comment. One moment everything had been fine the next it was like she had chopped off his right arm or something. She chewed her bite of pizza ever so slowly trying to figure out how to fix this. She hadn't meant to offend him, she had just wanted to know. “I didn't mean to offend you..” She glanced down at her pizza really wishing that she could know why. “I figured since you asked me it was ok to ask you.” Jean took another bite of her pizza unsure of what to do. This wasn't working like she had hoped that it would. This was a perfect example of why she was becoming a Doctor instead of a Psychologist.

She finsihed off her second pieces along with her can of soda. As much as she wanted to grab another can she knew it would better to grab water instead. So, that was what she did, Jean stood up and went over the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. It would get her away form him for a moment. Finally she sat back down across from him. “So then you completely go by Bezerker and you don't have another name?” He had been cold with her so she wasn't going to stop with the questions. Jean was going to lay off for a bite and just relax but hey if he was going to get all touchy about it then, she might as well try to understand him.

“I take it that you have completely alienated yourself from humanity, then?” Jean looked at him, straight in the eyes, no distractions or anything. She really wanted to 'get' him and it was now or never. Someday she wanted to be a doctor for mutants, this was something that she was going to have to understand.

“I didn't mean to offend you...I figured since you asked me it was ok to ask you.”
Now it seemed he was a hypocrite of contradictory actions and attitudes. And she seemed uncertain how to take this development, obviously not having expected his reaction. He didn't regret his reaction; the matter was an important distinction for him. He did however suppose he could have tried to phrase it slightly less antagonistically.

This was not something he was used to. The only actual conversations he had with the residents of the mansion- conversations rather than one-word, one-minute responses- were pretty much limited to the telepath, Xavier, Wolverine, Hellion and now the redhead, though he had briefly 'chatted' to Psylocke one night when neither had been so much interested in talking and Psylocke had just seemed bored. The redhead he was presently in the company of did not react to things as the others had. He wordlessly turned to the pizza and decided this was why being antisocial was a good thing.

“So then you completely go by Bezerker and you don't have another name?”
Despite everything, she was relentless. With the question she confirmed the daring streak once more.
“I take it that you have completely alienated yourself from humanity, then?”
A strong daring streak. Hell it was almost confrontational and he would have taken it as such from others. But the green eyes weren't so much aggressive as determined. He met her gaze but did not falter in taking another bite of his slice and a drink of coke before replying, curt as usual.
"Humanity alienated us."

Bezerker seemed so quiet and she kept her eyes on him. He was just so hard to get to, so hard to understand. Her life as a mutant hadn’t been like a lot of the other students. The redheads childhood had been normal, except for the coma accident and all. Her future revolved around becoming a doctor and at the moment she was a model. That did show that she blended in, so far Jean had not experienced the hardship of being a mutant. Her family still loved her, they didn’t care she was a mutant. Her friends were all mutants. Jean just couldn’t relate to alienation from humanity.

His eyes met her and she couldn’t help but hold them. Jean wished not for the first time that she didn’t hold herself up so high, that she could let herself peek inside his mind to understand him to relate. Yet she had said she would not. That meant she would not. Jean was one to keep her word. “Only if you let them...” confusion did show lightly in her eyes. She wanted to ask how humanity alienated him, she wanted to know what happened. Then again she did not want to push him away, or anger him.

“I know that we should not have to blend in and a lot of us do, but that doesn’t mean that all of humanity hates us. Or wishes we weren’t here...” Even as she spoke she wondered about her own parents. When she had gone into the coma had they been happy to find out she had been a mutant. None of that would have happened if she hadn’t. Her best friend would have just died instead of almost dragging Jean with her.

"Only if you let them..."

Her green eyes were searching, tinged with confusion. Inability to understand. She didn't see his world. She didn't see the shadows he only took naturally. His cynicism and misanthropic notions hadn't developed too early in his life, but it had developed strongly and quickly after getting to know the underground mutants. Outcasted from the world, both human and mutant. The topside. Nothing too intolerable had happened to him, and in fact he considered himself quite mild in terms of power manifestations (despite creating fires with unintentional explosions), but in he held himself to the same distrust as the other underground mutants did...and more, in his position of leadership. It was a slightly unusual protective twist to his personality, his pessimism that kept him from trusting the topside to keep the secret of the underground.

"I know that we should not have to blend in and a lot of us do, but that doesn’t mean that all of humanity hates us. Or wishes we weren’t here..."

She just didn't see it.
And he didn't want to explain. She was... she wasn't quite the same as all the other topsiders, but she wasn't that special. She was... she was in a shady area for his definition of social relations and he decided not to waste time trying to decide how different she was. One conversation was at least ten miles ahead of everyone with his untalkative nature, but one conversation was still one conversation. Even if he still didn't know why the hell he had agreed to said conversation and why it had lasted so long. But that went back to Red, and he had decided not to ponder it longer.

He stood up, tossing his empty can to the trash as he finished his last slice of pizza. Not quite a complete dinner, as he hadn't really eaten his normal amount, but this dinner had far too much conversation to be continued a moment longer. He wasn't called antisocial for nothing.
"Dinner's over, Red."
The statement served as both an informal announcement on his part and a parting message as he turned away from her gaze and started out the door.

[OOC: Check the PM I sent you.]