X-Men: ABNW Side Thread (Betsy and Piotr)

[heartofcourage]

Two Months Ago

Betsy hated it there in New York. She hadn’t wanted to go, but her brothers had insisted that she would be better off learning under Charles Xavier for a while. To her, it felt like treason on their part. She was fully in control of her powers…except in large crowds. Still, it wasn’t all that crippling. Only a minor annoyance.

Leaning back against the stone bench that she had chosen as her own down by the lake, she started out over the moonlit water. Her head ached slightly from everything that had happened since she had arrived earlier that week. She respected Professor Xavier, she knew his work well, but the fact that she felt as if her brothers had betrayed her weighed heavily on her heart and mind. Braddocks stuck together through thick and thin…which made her miss her mother and father all the more.

She let out a long sigh, her fingers fumbling with the cigarette package that she’d bought that morning. It was a filthy, disgusting habit but it was one that calmed her nerves and made her feel a little bit better. She had picked up the habit in her youth and had kicked it successfully a year ago…now it was back with vengeance.

“Stupid plastic.” She muttered to herself, glaring down at the plastic casing as if her anger would make it unfurl on its own. She was so distracted that she didn’t even notice the person approaching behind her.

 

[Lachiyous]

Piotr

Two Months Ago.

Being. So near. In the presence of. This lake. Sometimes, it was almost beyond verbalization. One simply just had to. Be. To really appreciate what it meant. Or served to represent.

Serenity. And in a varied, refreshing fashion. Darkness, out here was. Fantastic. Nevermind, the Man in the Moon. Sending his spotlight down. Across the stark black sky. Tiny lil', lighted orbs poked through that blanket, just as well. To be captured along the surface of water. Miscellaneous trout, northern leopard frogs, and other nocturnal critters sending out. Ripples, therein. Chasing the mosquitoes that taunt. Cicada, and crickets also make their presence known. With their singing. It was a time. Like none other. To just catch up. In one's own...

Thoughts. With oneself. Or, perhaps. In the company. Of someone...else.

As it had been since he first arrived. Here. At the Xavier Estate, School for the Gifted. Piotr taken to walks. At this hour. Proved to be one -- if not, the -- only activity to engage in. So that he may. Be able to make the safe. Journey. Unto Slumber land.

Be that as it may. It was on this. Night. With shirt and shorts. Athletic apparel. And a pair of sandals. In completion. Circling around the. Lake. That someone brought him out of his. Reverie. Closer now. That person was seated, on a lengthy concrete seat -- bench, really -- overlooking the fresh water. The cascade of raven strands. Spilling. Down the back. Ahh. Feint illumination reflected. Smooth. Curves of..

Her being.

Piotr approached the female individual slowly. Unsure. What she may be doing out here now. She'd been here for as long as him, and. Not once. Had visited this part of the grounds during nighttime. Quizzically, yet thick with his Russian accent, "Wanda, is something the matter? I understand no--" as her face turned to him, when he addressed her. Realization then hit him. This was NOT Wanda at all! For Wanda's hair had more. Body. Slightly more. Waves. This woman's was completely, and extraordinarily. Straight. She...must have been new, for he could not. Place her. Wasn't there someone Charles had been speaking to him about. That he hadn't met. Face-to-face yet. Perhaps this was that person...

Clearing his throat, he began once more, "Forgive me. I thought you someone else. I'm Piotr by the way. Приветствия..." His hand out toward her. Politely. As was, a gentle smile. Upon his face.
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****This roleplay story takes place TWO MONTHS PRIOR to the very start of X-Men: A Bright New World roleplay!****

 

[heartofcourage]

Betsy knew the moment that someone else had entered her space. She was always aware of other people around her, but she chose to ignore most of those around her unless they posed a serious threat. She knew with just a simple mental touch that this…man…wasn’t a threat. She let out a long sigh as she finally got the plastic covering off her cigarettes.

She had just opened the box when the man started to talk, his accent thick and heavy as he called her Wanda. She frowned and turned towards him, her eyes clear and quizzical as he realized his mistake and asked for forgiveness in making it. He held out his hand politely, smiling at her with a charming ease.

“Piotr.” She repeated, taking his hand with her free one and shaking briefly. “I’m Betsy.”

She shivered from the contact of his warm hand, hers unable to pull away quick enough. “I’m sorry if I took your spot. I needed some time away from the mansion.”

She took the moment of idle conversation to pull the cigarette free from the box and place it between her lips, patting down her pockets before she fumbled with her silver lighter.

 

[Lachiyous]

Piotr

Eighteen Months Back.

The man eyed the adolescent. Seated. From across his office. Whom was leafing through a booklet set before him. Admittingly, it took a little bit, for. Conformity. As could and should, be anticipated. Mother Russia wasn't just. Around the corner. Family, friends neither. In fact everyone -- everything -- familiar and comfortable. Gone. And yet....having worked personally with him. Monitoring his education. Despite his youth, his disposition was fairly remarkable. If not a tiny bit. Reserved. Mature well beyond his years...

And of course there was young. Katherine Pryde. The two had become friends almost. Instantaneously. Why, without her...how would Piotr have made out? Everyone needs someone after all. Even Colossus ...

"It's important information, I assure you. Guidelines. More rules and regulations. There's even sample curriculum on the Arts in there..."

"Professor...?"

"You've come about a long ways, Piotr. In almost all respects. All of which, I'm most proud of you."

"It. Has been great pleasure. To be here at your school..." He stopped as Charles raised his right palm up.

"One moment. I wasn't finished. What I was leading to...is that I would like to offer you the opportunity. To serve. As a Teacher's Assistant -- or TA -- here. At the Estate. You can assist me when I deem it necessary, of course. Help some of the others. Even in acclimating newer students. I'd even encourage you to explore that artistic passion of yours. And consider, eventually, teaching a course on it. It can be very...therapeutic...which is an important lesson...." Both of them standing. He reaches out for the young man's hand. Shaking. "Think on it, Piotr. It's my belief, that you would be. Perfect. For the position..."
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Two Months Ago.

He watched the woman before him. React, unfavorably. To the misidentification. He let slip. In the form of her slender brows. Knitting together. With a frown. First impressions. But then...visibility wasn't the most plentiful at the moment. And of course, there was no ill intent. Not from the likes of him.

Nevertheless, his apology was swift. As was his salutations. Handshake, and. Smile as well. Above all, he did not want to intrude. Or intervene. That just wasn't what he was about. Nor what he'd ever want to bring to the table. If anything, comfort. Yes, making one comfortable around him. That was a much nicer ambition...

Piotr very faintly detected her shiver. When he held. Her hand, by touch. To shake it lightly. Figment of his imagination? Just as soon, she broke the contact. Releasing him. Her voice seemed cool -- almost a calculative tone -- when she spoke to him. But then, he detected. It might have been the accent that she herself displayed.

And in answering, "Betsy. Of course. The professor -- Charles -- talked. Fondly of you. It is great pleasure to meet you. And please..." Nodding to the bench, for which she was seated upon. As well as gesturing to their surroundings. "..come here anytime you like. I find it soothes myself. Especially when I feel the need to get away too..."

At this, he smiled. Once more. His blue eyes turned to the fleeting glitter of lights. On the surface of the water. Before. Returning his gaze to her. And noticing the cigarette she put up to her lips. As an after thought, "You don't mind maybe....I join you too?" Indicating the open spot on the bench next to her...
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[heartofcourage]

Betsy glanced up from her search of a lighter as Piotr mentioned Charles. Charles had been fond of her, that much she knew. She supposed that they were both kindred spirits, their abilities much the same. Still, she didn’t know how she felt about the Professor talking about her to other students at the facility like that. It seemed like a complete invasion of her privacy there.

“I don’t mind at all.” Betsy said around the cigarette hanging from her lips, finally pulling the silver lighter from her jeans pocket and lighting up before taking a long slow drag of nicotine.

She was quiet as Piotr sat down, her eyes glancing towards him from time to time before she turned her gaze back out on the water. It was quite here, except for the thoughts and feelings that flowed off Piotr like the glassy water before them. She knew what he was thinking. She knew what he was feeling. She absolutely hated that as it cluttered her peaceful surroundings.

“So…um…how long have you been here?” She asked him, taking another long drag from her cig as she tried to make idle conversation. She’d never been good at small talk, which her brothers knew. Perhaps that’s why they had insisted that she come here. The exposure to other people would do her good.

“I’m sorry. I don’t really mean to sound like such a bitch. It’s just that…I really don’t want to be here right now.” She said out of the blue, glancing at him and wondering if he ever felt the same way.

 

[Lachiyous]

Piotr

Earlier in the Week.

"...it doesn't just concern that, if you'll indulge me. I've spent the better part of the last twelve years, harvesting information. To no end. Expending all available outlets, in preparation for this. Dream of mine, to become. Reality..."

"A good dream, it is Professor."

"What I'm getting at, Piotr, is that I anticipate we've not yet. Begun. To even fathom the potential world, that shall be. In the days, months, and years to come. Mutants are out there. Hidden and unsure of themselves. Is humanity ready for them, I cannot help but wonder?"

"We help when the time. It come to us. To control fear with the understand of things. And accept of all. Just as you teach us..."

Charles couldn't have felt more pride for his student, than he did right then. Right there. Nodding pleasantly, a hand on the big man's shoulder. "You never cease to amaze me, my friend. Thank you for that. Oh, and..." His gaze focusing on something. Nondescript, in the distance. Before returning, "...we shall be receiving a new arrival momentarily, from across the Sea -- England in fact. Elizabeth of Braddock Manor, a most remarkable young lady. I'd appreciate it, as always, if you'd reach out to her sooner than later. It's important that everyone here, feel. At home, as much as possible."

"Without question, Professor. I do this when I can.."
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Now.

Her attention flung upon him. At once. The slight mention of Charles, triggering it. Suddenly, he had absently wondered if name dropping like that. Might have, set him back here a bit. Not so much astute, yet he was a fair judge of people -- which of course stemmed from his willingness to listen, above everything else. Not being a chatterbox probably worked in his favor too...

"I don't mind at all." She responded to his inquiry, before. Bringing her cigarette alive, with the flicker of the lighter. Did she REALLY not mind, or was she just saying that? That line of probing, wouldn't be. Helpful, truly. He was present. Here, with. Her. And there wasn't any. Blatant 'aura' about her, something. That would indicate, she did not want him around. At least from his perspective.

Taking up a spot, beside her. The measured weight of himself, now. Present, on the shared bench. Big hands, one on either side of himself. Planted, now. Upon the stone surface. The texture smooth in some areas, and yet. Uneven, rougher in the other. Such it is with concrete. An inhale of the fresh scents and sounds, that the surroundings have provided. Filling his chest. Serenely. The soft exhale, to release them. From his being.

"So…um…how long have you been here?" She puffed, the words not coming out. Casual, at all. He watched the barely visible, swirl of smoke. Escape her nose, then her lips. As she nursed the cigarette.

"It has been. A good, long time. Over three year I say..." he reflected, as he visually sought out. The small of an animal. Scurrying, meticulously. Along the edge of the water. Had it really been three years since he had crossed the threshold. From his homeland? Where had the moments gone by....

"I’m sorry. I don’t really mean to sound like such a bitch. It’s just that…I really don’t want to be here right now." Piotr considered the woman, seated before him. Her liquid black hair. Pooled down, past her shoulder. And across her back. She was someone, the bit. Unfamiliar to him. It was true. Perhaps even, not that much of a people person. Though, was he really one either? It just felt, in this moment if and it could be felt. That she may have opened up, the very. Slight, to him. Right now. With her honesty. And for that, he allowed. A smile.

"No need for sorry, please. And you don't sound like..like..." stumbled a bit, he'd heard the slang term bitch before. Of course, though he'd never used it. And only vaguely had the notion for what it may have symbolized. "...well, THAT...word!." He gesticulated, openly. Within the air before them. Giving off an uneasy laugh at that, hoping. She would not think much, the little. Of him, and his antics. "But Betsy..." more serious a tone now. He may have had an idea, what direction she was heading. In the second part of her confession. "...home never. Is far. From the heart. It's no matter. Where. We come from. And where, we are. Home always, inside. The heart." The young Russian gifted her. With one more smile. Sincerely so.

Then. Blinking. As an image of intrusion pops into his mind. He quickly added, "Unless you like. Better, I. Leave you alone..?" Is THAT what she meant by she didn't want to be here right now?
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[heartofcourage]

“What are you? Some kind of Boy Scout?” Betsy asked as she took a long drag on her cigarette. She let the smoke settle for a moment before she blew out a long, slow stream. “No, I don’t want you to go. I simply meant that I don’t want to be here in general.”

She knew how mean and nasty that sounded, but it was the truth right from the bottom of her heart. She wanted to be back at home in her manor with her brothers, not here in the middle of nowhere New York. She sucked in another drag, glancing at Piotr as he sat beside her almost shyly. She’d never met anyone like him before He thought she was attractive, she could feel that pouring off him in waves, but he didn’t get any closer than he was right now. That was strange, she thought to herself.

“You like my hair, huh?” She asked, deciding to focus on something more pleasant She grinned at him, her blue eyes practically lighting up as she saw the hint of a blush start to form on his cheeks. “It’s alright. I think you’re kind of handsome too.”

 

[Lachiyous]

Piotr

"What are you? Some kind of Boy Scout?"

Her quick -- albeit nonchalant -- accusation, stumped him. For a moment. Causing him to pause, in action and thought. He wasn't sure what exactly to say to her question, as. His initial thought, Scouts in Exile -- something he was familiar with -- culturally was. Probably, irrelevant. Herein. The uncertainly had made its way, upon his. Face.

Then, she answered him. "No, I don’t want you to go. I simply meant that I don’t want to be here in general." This brought his own, home. To the forefront of his. Mindscape. His little sister, and his. Parents. The cozy, little life. Built against, the harsh. World, out there. One which, he. Left, behind...

Eyes drifting, onto the lake. As the images played, beyond himself. His voice, sympathetic. Gentle for her. "I come from a small farm, in Siberia. As you know, Russia is great distance away...." The dapple of blonde hair, swishing about. Squeels of joy, from. His sister, Illyana. He could always tell, whenever she was being. Mischievous. "It...not without challenge. Or difficulty. To leave my family. To be so far away." He allowed the deep of a breath. To fill him up. To its fullest capacity. Yes. Then. Before, the soft. Sweet, exhale. As he inclined his head, toward her. "Probably, what. You are to feel now. Just as I did, then." He nodded to her, believing. That was close to it. "The key maybe? Hold home, close. Hold, dear. So that when opportunity come, you may visit it. In the future. You see?" Piotr offered.

As the cigarette smoke, wafted from her. Up, into the air. He found his deep blue irises, settling. Upon the strands of her hair. Which reminded him, about healthy transitioning! "Oh. It also could be of help. To make new friends. Form a close bond..." The brownsome eyed, brunette pixie of his. Best friend, Kitty. Popped, into his head. Just now. He smiled. And continued. "That is good way, to make. Hm. The 'longing' for home. Not seem that bad. You see? And here, Betsy. You find, perhaps. A brand new family....ready and willing. To accept you!" With that, the one of his big hands. Reached out, for her. At this moment. In comfort...

When she did speak again, it certainly. Took him aback. Not so much, because. She said something, but more so. What she pointedly delivered. "You like my hair, huh?"

"Oh! I....ahh.." the young Russian stammered. Had he been so blatantly obvious, as to. Have been staring? He could feel the, fire. Burning, upon the surface of his skin. Coloring him with some embarrassment, therein. Her unexpected, and direct. Turn, in the conversation. Certainly took him for a spin! And caused him to, retract his. Hand, from hers. "It...it wasn't rude I hope? To be looking at your hair like that? It's just, in art. I appreciate. Truly. Aspects of beauty. In life. Nature. And people, yes? And you. Have....uhh...how to say. The perfect most.....the most perfect....your hair is...." he swallowed some, to gather himself. As he was a bit on the spot here. And one could tell. "да. I do like it." Despite, the flush. He gave her a smile.

"It’s alright. I think you’re kind of handsome too." his brows arched. High. And her compliment, caused him. To part his lips. And open his mouth. Ever, slightly. Piotr hadn't seen that one coming. Not in a long shot! He didn't turn away, from her. However. Even, as tiny. Goose bumps, proceeded to surface. All across the contours. Of his being. The heated sensation, from the attention. Not disappearing, either. He regarded Betsy, the woman before him. Perhaps, in the new of a light. This, dark of the night. "Thank you." The big man simply stated, unsure of what. Much, else to say. At this moment...
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[heartofcourage]

"Thank you? That's all you got?" Betsy teased, enjoying this little game that she was playing with Piotr. "You really are a Boy Scout."

She turned her head from him then, looking out across the water as she took another long drag from her cigarette. He didn't know that she could read all the thoughts that were flitting around his brain like a bird. Not many people knew what she was capable of. It was hard to turn off and harder to control, especially when there were people around that she'd never met before.

"I can read your thoughts. All of them." She said suddenly, letting out a long sigh. "I don't mean to, but it's hard to stop. As much control as I usually have, when I meet someone new, I don't seem to be able to control it all that much."

"So, yes, I know that you like my hair. I know that you are friends with Kitty. I know that you miss your family." Her blue eyes flicked back towards Piotr. "I know it all."