#jean001

@marvelxgirl​

It had been a difficult journey to Sokovia, ardurous even for one of Ororo’s experience in roaming the world. Possibly because she had been alone, a once familiar state that, since joining the X-Men, had rarely been something she had to endure. Getting out of New York had been easy enough, as she was still a trusted figure by the government - though that was unlikely to last much longer - but upon leaving America, it had been necessary to be far more covert. Surging forward now on the power of the winds, altitude so high there was nothing but the vapour of angry clouds and the crackle of lightning as company, she felt a rush of relief that she was now close enough to her destination to do away with chartering flights and could return to her own power. Maybe it was knowing she was finally out from under the weight of the Accords, but never had Ororo felt quite this rush of freedom in using her powers. There was almost a temptation to keep going, reclaim her position as goddess of the skies with a relish, forgetting all earthly concerns that had kept her grounded so long.  

Lowering her flight path,  Ororo slowed down, conscious of nearing the co-ordinates of the waiting Nomad base. Even if they were expecting her, she didn’t want to trigger their defenses. There was one reunion in particular she had been longing for and would rather have first. If there was any temptation to rival being one with the skies, it was this. Jean, Ororo called out, probing for the connection in her mind. It lay there dormant when they were not using it, but it no longer felt like an intrusive presence. Jean’s mind was nearly as familiar to her as her own, but now they were so close, it wasn’t enough. She craved the phsyical presence of her friend. I’m here. I’ve ... missed you. Terribly. 

The day had gone slowly, convenient for the young blonde in what she had hoped to do for a while now. Lavender hues had observed the teenager who sat at one of the many tables without company. So she had tasked it upon herself to take this time as a break, grabbing two glasses and filling them with one of the many drinks the café proffered. Upon completion, she made her way to where he sat before setting one of the drinks next to him in an invitation of conversation, subtle as it may be.

"You are Jean, if I recall correctly." A smile, feeling the peculiar the sound rolled from her tongue. To utter a name so similar to her own, it was quite surreal if she were to admit. Certainly they had met in passing glances, though it had been a personal task to remember every name and face that went with them during her commitment.

Pulling the chair from the table, she allowed her self to sit across from him as she set her own demitasse down. Had he refused, gladly she would remove herself from his presence. However so, it was only with her best intentions to become more acquainted with him if he would allow it. Those of this group were supposed to be comrades, to not speak with them would not do.

Our store favourite, the classic NOIR Jean 001 has just been restocked in all sizes and now features raised belt loops and an even stronger pocket bag (just cause we can!) Who else better to tell you the intricate details about NOIR’s JEAN001 than the designer himself? No one, so here it is! With cotton from Zimbabwe woven in Japan, 15.5oz shank dyed with natural indigo, NOIR is serious about denim. With the custom piping on the felled inseam stitch adding that something different to the everyday turn ups to show off the selvedge lines on the other side. The Belt loops are lined in the same colour as the leg inseam piping and the real Hebi skin patch accents the waistband.