Burdens and Proper Drinking

November 28, 2017:

Piotr and Betsy reunite a visit from Rogue and eventually Scott joins


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

The Rec Room is all patched up and back to normal by now. A new roof, some new paint, a replaced pool table the place looks as good as new. With many classes having wrapped for the day, Piotr finds himself with some down time. He has his sketchpad out in front of him, propped up on one knee. He is apparently doing some quick sketches of the various students in the lounge area. That and some low key supervision, not that he's worried about the students starting trouble, more that he's worried about how they are handling the latest attack. Keeping an eye on them seemed like a good idea, and at least this way he can start working out some ideas for his sculpture.. series? He hasn't decided on much yet, so alongside the sketches are a series of notes, questions, decisions and crossed out ideas.


Psylocke is back around, and after a meet and greet welcome wagon, a session to help open the doors to a youth named Eclipse's mental state, hopefully everything is back to going strong.

Hope. Keyword.

Genosha has caused the need for the X-Men to rally together and be their own force, but Bets has always thought hiding behid the walls of a School, even if teaching and helping the children of their future is necessary… Those walls can come crumbling down.

"This paint does not match, send the order in for the new edge-tables, this time the runner rugs for the half are not to be Persian, I will fax that order over when I find suitable and /tasteful/ replacements." A cluster is around the Asian woman, hair pulled into a chignon with wisps of that deep purple hanging down around defined features, the clipboard in her hand clutched, the pen being used like a pointer to areas of the room where reconstruction had occurred, one of the men (Foreman most likely) appears displeased with Betsy's tone, all the more admonishing with that English accent. "The materials for reinforcement were placed in with the metal beams? Simple storms cannot just take out our structure again, I know the alloy is expensive… Bill me. They need installed here," Point. "Here." Point…

Piotr is paused on, the gaze lingering, but for a moment one corner of her lips curl up into a "warmer" smile. "Tea time." Clip board is overturned, pen is shoved into her delicately wrapped bun and there she stands, waiting for the 'posses' departure before heeled footfalls carry her towards Piotr. "Tea?"


The noise of the students has become almost a background static, mixed in with what they are apparently calling music. Piotr has all but drowned out the noise around him so it takes him more than a few seconds to realize someone was speaking to him. He is in the midst of scratching out a prior note when he stops and looks up.

For a big guy, he's awfully light on his feet and has dropped his pad and is standing, arms out in no time flat. "Elizabeth!" is bellowed with much enthusiasm. Having been trying to get the lay of the land and figure out who is currently residing in Westchester versus other places like Australia, Genosha, prison, some other galaxy etc., he was not aware Betsy was back.

"Yes. Tea would be wonderful. It is good to see you!" His voice is slightly quieter but he's still quite loud because of the noise surrounding them.


Betsy was not going to be the first move in this moment, it has been a while, after all, and her mission overseas with former operatives had her eyes and ears elsewhere, but they became tuned in for matters at 'Home' as well. This uprising and reactions is not just a short span from the Island of Genosha. She is an effigy of calm demeanor and statuesque poise! No man or woman shall make her…

The sweep of silken wide-legged trousers is but a whisper to the tiny cadence of heels over the refinished hardwood flooring. Somewhere in passing the clipboard was set face down on a table and the tall woman seems muted in the embrace of her friend and team mate… "Piotr! It is good to see you, as well!" Nearly muffled into the mass, but her words are easy enough to reach him through the din around them settling into white noise. Pulling back only slightly she looks him over, glancing to his sketch pad, and widening the smile to brighten that smile. "Still have not lost your touch, I see. Good." A slight twist and her arm links in his, ore like a frail vine around a massive trunk but her path is towards the small bar where an electric kettle is filled with water and flicked on to heat. "I do hope they have actual tea here still and not that poor excuse…"


The large Russian is affectionate with the hug but as always is the case, careful with all the tiny people not to crush them. Unless it's Logan or Kurt, then his hugs are more like vicious wrestling submission moves as opposed to warm greetings.

When she references the discarded notebook, he sheepishly picks it back up from it's place and at least sets in on the chair. He's not a slobbish student here, those days are long, long past. He chuckles at the remarks "No, I still have my touch. And now my favorite model has returned. You will pose for me, da? I'm working on sculpture series.. You must." As kind a friend as Piotr is, he can still be a pushy artist.

Letting her link arms and maneuver him graciously towards the beverage area. He pats her hand and says "Likely not. There is not even beer." Sure, no vodka he can understand, but beer isn't even alcohol, well at least not in Russia. "Perhaps someone civilized like Jean has a stash though. Are you recently back? I just got in a few weeks ago…" And now, it looks like he might be headed out. If a team is needed in Genosha, Piotr's not going to stay out of that fight, unless he can convince Scott to let him go bear hunting. For now he only thinks his plans, not yet sharing out loud anyway.


"Always, Piotr. I love seeing me through others' eyes, especially great artists." A pat of her hand over his own is more a similar affection than that of assuaging anything, slowly drawing it away as she starts to tea preparations. One Garfield mug brought down, another R2D2 in shape and painting. Her nose wrinkles lightly but the amusement is in those violet eyes as she starts digging for the tea, differing boxes brought down, lofting to tip-toes to reach to the back and bring down an air tight jar with the mesh balls that submerse into the hot water with the loose-leaf tea inside.

"I knew no one would bother this." A tapping of nails over the glass and she is setting up the 'proper' rite of Tea Time, settling for Snack Wells Lady Fingers for biscuits.

"Jean, Scott, perhaps even the Professor. May have to ask Rogue for the vodka, we have options, they are just cleverly hidden, and I know how to get in and out.." A lift of hand as if saying 'Voila!' like a magician, a wink to Piotr, but that moment sobers slightly.

"I just got back a couple weeks ago as well.." his own fade echoed as the kettle whistles in time with the class-bells, the room slowly emptying around them. "But for how long," A loft of shoulder clad in the smooth white blouse. "But I am with this team, you are my family away from family."


A soft laugh from Piotr at the thought of having to ask for vodka. "No, I of course am not without vodka, I may not live there but I have not abandoned my home country ways altogether." Ha, the thought of him without vodka, ridiculous.

As with Kitty, Piotr knows all too well the sentiment of the X-men being home, being family. "Are you planning on active duty? From the sound of the briefings we will need to be ready." He hesitates a moment before sharing his earlier thoughts. Priorities that he is just coming to grips with himself. "I would like to free Danielle Moonstar." He uses her full name, he was never close enough to know her as Dani.

"But if Scott is pressing Genosha as a priority…" He knows that his reaction to wanting to free Dani is based more on the fact that Illyana was taken, and that their home was attacked. Technically he should care more about an island full of people embroiled in a conflict they caused.

He sighs and changes the subject. "The cat mug is mine. You can have robot." Calling dibs on the Garfield mug with a slight smile and attempt at a small joke.


Rogue arrives from Xavier's Institute - 2nd Floor.


Betsy has her own wine in her room - but the balcony door was a bit wider… and claws left the doors ajar… More like somewhere in the Garden. But now it is being repaired, a sunroof installed, French-Style doors as well of the original wood, a dark red cherry and the bed is replaced, but sleeping in it through the construction and the 'Open Air' ventilation is… Not a thing!

The Guest rooms do not have small kitchenettes, private bathrooms, nor stash spaces, so her expensive bottles remain in her bag, and would likely be like Grape Drink to someone like Piotr. The tea is steeped, and glasses switched with a move akin to the Princess Bride shuffle, a single finger pushing the Garfield mug to Piotr with a small smile, though she does not look at him just yet, the small chain and loop drug by a hooked fingertip as she even seems to stew over the words passed. Her R2D2 mug eyes warily. This has to be Scott's..*scoff*

"Did this guy not care for his 'family' too, despite…" A tap-tap to the ceriman(metal painted) coating. "Do you know the exact state of Moonstar?" I see the state of the… Manse due to her ghosts, but perhaps… We can help both?"

Active duty? A finely manicured brow lofts and Betsy slowly sips her tea, sliding out the half-eaten tray of Snack Wells between them. "I am as Active as they get, luvie, I will not sit idly by, have tea, and watch … Things get torn apart." Lord knows that has happened far too often.


The recreation room is full of students enjoying their post class activities, music playing, kids engaging in various games or watching shows. It's a little chaotic, but in a good way, a healthy life goes on kind of way. At the beverage / bar area, Piotr takes the mug with a chuckles at Betsy's disdain for the star wars one.

"I do not know much. I have only been able to get a few words in here or there. But she is one of us, and it is likely she or it might strike here again." He's not super clear on the part about how much is the bear, how much is now evil Dani. "I would like to do both if you have ideas."

At the part about active duty, he offers a shrug. "There is no shame in teaching. It would be a prodigious waste of your talents, but I did not want to assume. We have all taken time …" He trails off, as that statement can be applied to WAY too many people and situations "For our reasons. I would not be one to judge." He like all the X-Men have had more than his fair share of different phases and different statuses.


Rogue appeared in the doorways of the recreation room, she was wearing a black wool knit cap over her head, a black wool jacket and a dark green sweater underneath it, some grey slacks on her lower body and some black boots. She's carrying four plastic grocery bags (two in either gloved hand) and she's walking toward the kitchen area.

With a slight sigh she sets the bags down and then reaches up to pull her wool cap off of her head and then run her hand through her unkempt and wild hair, trying to sort it out a bit from the fizziness she figured it must look like.

The French teacher started to unpack the bags while she idly hummed a little tune to herself, she was aware of the others around her, but she wasn't really looking to intrude on any conversations as of just yet.


"I need a sitrep," Betsy states, her violet-laced gaze shifting towards Colossus, seeing his motions, his /tells/, one hand extends and presses to his massive shoulder, it'd look like a toddler trying to palm a pro-basketball, but the offer of 'comfort' is there. "I can see, like anyone else, but I need to know the depth." Her hand withdrawals and sweeps across her temple to tap two fingers upon it.

A rocks back and her hands only splay in a hold over the R2 mug, slowly turning it. "I am a mentor here, but before I offered to help Our children of Our future, I was an X-Man, and still am. I think that goes for us all." A look that lifts to Colossus then slides to Rogue. "Don't you agree, Anna?" Though Betsy's attempt at /southern/ fails… Horribly.


Patting the hand on his shoulder he smiles. It's truly wonderful to be back among his people again. He could go on for hours about the conflicting reasons and thoughts or plans, but there is no need. Betsy understands, they all do. He picks up his mug and glances at a clock. Again, he's lost track of time sketching.

"«Damn it»" Swearing in Russian, Piotr switches back to excuse himself. "I am sorry Betsy. I am late for training." He sees Rogue and offers her a small waves as well.

"We will catch up soon. Over proper drinks." Is said to both of the women, as he makes his way out of room, mug still in hand.


Rogue seemed a bit lost in her own world as she was unpacking the groceries and putting them away in the cabinets in front of her. When Betsy spoke to her she looked over at both she and Piotr and she said. "Hmm?" At first and then her gaze wandered around the room quickly before she showed a faint smile and looked back down to her hands in the plastic bag. "Oh, yeah. I trust whatever it is that Betsy is sayin'. She says its right, then I buy it and endorse it."

Rogue would hear Piotr's retreat and she'd say back to him as he lumbered on out. "See ya, Petey." And she'd go back to wadding up empty plastic bags and stuffing them into her jacket pockets along with some cigarettes and an unopened bottle of sweet tea.


"Proper…" A smile toward Piotr as he departs and she lofts her teas as if saying 'Cheers!', sipping… Pinky up! In emphasis.

A glance as Rogue stuffs the sweet tea, cigs, and bags away into pockets, the sweet tea given a low scowl but none the less… accepted with a twist of lips into a wan smile. "I can make you better, but join me..?" The final closure forced into a question while she gestures to Pete's empty seat, Betsy claiming the empty one beside his, heel hooking over lower rung of the stool while legs clad in the expensive fabric that form trousers, cross. "It is hard to catch Scott, or many that have been here through all of this…" A gesture to the reforming building, the Rec Room newly refurbished in part, but at least now it has walls and a roof again.

"You cannot endorse anything I say if what I say is not backed by knowing." Watching Rogue, she draws her lips into a thin line. "What is on your mind, truly? I may have been gone, but… I know better."


Rogue filled the pockets of her black wool coat up and she walked over to where Peter had been seated with Betsy. She lowered down into the seat and looked to the high class woman and offered her a faint smile on her pale pink painted lips. "Nah. I trust you, Bets. You wouldn't steer me wrong. Besides, I done a lotta things my life without havin' any real solid knowledge on WHY I was doin' it."

A smirk was shown then as she pulled the bottle of tea out of her pocket. She'd planned on going on a walk outside and having a drink and a smoke, but she'd just drink here and smoke later.

"My mind's as it usually is. A right mess. But hey, can't complain. Got a comfy bed t'lay in at night, lots'a food t'make me a fat old woman someday… Its just, been a rough year, ya know? Now I got another birthday loomin'. I hate those things." Rogue showed a slightly smaller grin while she twisted the ap off her drink.


"I will try not to steer anyone wrong, /Belle/," Betsy lifts her quickly cooling tea as the students filter out as the end of day nears and outside of those refurbished doors, the sun is setting. "But I know what it is to lose yourself in another self." A lean of her head, the bunned up tress held in a tight chignon has her pen thrust within like a hair-pick of the nationality that leaves her eyes tilted into a shark-like gaze. Despite the accent. But this time, her fingers stroke over her eye that once bore a reddened bolt of scarification - Kwannon.

Though Rogue gets a long stare, one that has a dark ecru gaze dominated by a spread of bright violet hue amidst the hazel flecking. "If you need help with that, I think I can offer what you need so you can stop looking at the day of your birth and tone it like another year of death." A small smile and Bets clinks her R2 mug against Rogue's sweet tea… bottle? "Can you fill me in on this year, and what has you so down in the…" A waffling wave of hand. "… dumpster?"


+MEET: Scott Summers has arrived via +meet.


Rogue listened to Betsy's words and it made her smile faintly while she placed the bottle of sweet tea against her lips and took a sip from it, that nice 'brand new bottle' taste from the first drink.

A shrug of her shoulders later and she slapped the cap back down ontop of the bottle, resting it between her thighs in her lap. "Nah, its cool… I mean, I appreciate your concern but its just… My burden t'bare, ya know? Sum it up though? Losin' some friends, goin' t'places I never really thought I'd go. Not really sure how t'get back from'em."

Rogue showed a faint smile then on her pink lips, she adjusted her black wool coat on her body at the chair she sat upon beside Betsy's own.

"I just, need a long vacation or somethin'. Would love t'just… go t'Paris for like, a month. Maybe foreve'ah." She showed a grin to Betsy then.


Scott's head is the first thing to announce his arrival, peering in through the door red shades and dark brows. "There is people in here. Good!" He says louder than intended and then nudges the door open a little further so he can stomp in and drop the box in his arms on the floor. A muffled crunch sound audible from inside. Hopefully nothing broke.

A look from the Southern Belle to the Japanese-Brit, "Did I interrupt?"

No skipping a beat he kneels down and flips open one cardboard flap. Garland, candles, decorations. "School is in a sorry state but we still have kids here. Kids who believe in something hopeful. You two get to be the lucky ones who are helping me decorate."


"Is it just /your burden to bare/?" That slow term Betsy drawls over to take Rogue's accent and add her own lilt puts it more into a 'quote' than a sarcastic drawl. "I am sorry if I find that hard to accept, as my baggage was held on the shoulders of "this" family a few times." A glance sidelong to Rogue and Betsy exhales over her cooled tea, looking to the newly reinforced walls, ceiling, doors, as well as new furnishings within. At least the mugs survived!

"We get over it, building bridges, eve if eventually they get bu…" Siiippp. (Burnt) "Stop selling yourself short. We all lose people, but we still have to stand together, Belle, now moreso than," A beat as Scott appears and makes his own proclamation, the R2 mug lifted. "Betting this is yours…"

But a lean Rogue's way has her uttering. "More than ever."

"I already have it noted, estimations for insurance while the claim is debatable I am saying a storm of epic proportions. Not a bear." Siiiipppp.

"The expensive decor is being replaced with tasteful replicas." A pause and Scott is eye'd carefully.

"Do tell, though." Fill them in, by all means!


Rogue would show a soft grin at Betsy, admiring her inherent charm that she had within her. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. I've been dealin' with bullshit since the start'a my life. I can handle a relatively shitty twenty sixth year." She smiled at the other woman lightly before looking over to the newly arrived Head of Scott Summers. Scott got a small smile too.

"Heya." She said softly at him. "I just got back from the store, so, no interruptions. What are we decoratin'?" She asked him then, her mind not really on the holidays so that likely answer has slipped away from her.


Straightening up to a stand Scott holds a strip of green leaf in hand, "You're all smiles in here but the air feels serious. I walk in with bad timing or is this some kind of girl talk moment?" A look from left to right before he is reeling more out.

"Christmas, Rogue. That holly jolly time of year and all… " He smiles a little, its hard not to when two women who look like them are beaming their own pearly whites your way. Even though with the X-Ladies too many smiles can encourage sense of unease. Often warranted!

"That mug is mine, yeah, a gift so I'd rather not have it tossed, Bets."


"Alrghty, then." Bets states in a sing-song voice, finishing her tea to set the mug aside /carefully/ and place her hands in her lap, legs crossed, the trouser slacks ridden high upon waist where blouse tucks within, heels peeking from beneath the wide mouth of pants hemline. One swinging slowly only to stop and hook narrowly pointed toe around a rung while she leans forward.

"We was just discussin' one week of the month and the death of all men." A wink to Rogue from that eye aimed her way and she rights and exhales. "Totally forgot about that 'Jolly' time o' Year, sheit…" The final word exhaled and making her look around as if paranoid anyone caught the 'curse' from a 'lady'. "… not alone, Belle." A low murmur to Rogue, but wether Scott hears or not is not Betsy's concern, her clip-board eyed.

"Consider your mug safe, for now…" The ominous tone left to hang like Christmas lights loosely over a gutter. "What are your plans, Oh Leader of Ours?" A grabby gesture made towards the clipboard resting on the table beside Scott, discarded there to hug Colossus in her surprise!


Rogue looked between the two of them and then glanced down at her tea bottle. She swiped it back up and went to stand up from the chair. "Ah… yeah… The Hap Hap Happiest time'a the Year." She said in an overly dry tone of her husky southern flavored voice.

Rogue walked over to the kitchen area in the lounge and she grabbed a cookie out of the jar and then turned to lean back against the counter and take a little nibble from it. "I'll do all the high-up stuff if people want. Like, ya know, the star ontop'a the tree'n all."

Rogue glanced to Betsy and smiled at her. "I would neve'ah break an Artoo Dee-two mug. Even if I was totally pissed at Scott."


"Right. Thats nothing new." Scott passes off on the topic of 'Death of Men' though he is still smiling, as best as he can or anyone else can right now. Welcome to the X-Men. Angst at times is almost overbearing. Which is why the Holidays are embraced as much as they can be.

"You wouldn't be breaking my heart if you busted that particular mug. Like I said it was a gift, you'd be punishing someone else so consider your actions." Scott can play that game. He's good at it. A tip of his head towards the Telepathic Ninja as if in challenge before he is stringing up the length of greenery over the doorframe.

"Smart call, Rogue." Scott pauses to take an earbud out and stuff it in to his pocket, "Leave it to Johnny Cash to even make Christmas music even more depressing."
"You two have plans or you going to be around here this year?" He doesn't approach the subject of those who want to go to Genosha, back in to more war and misery, they won't be representing X-Men when they go. At least not in any official capacity. The X-Men are needed stateside now more than ever with the #mutantmenace and pro-registration talks sparking up again. Just the other day a young mutant in Colorado was strung up and hung. It's made the news.


The Arrrr-two… Mug is left alone, one red eye and all as her grabby gesture for her clipboard by Scott is ignored. Bets has plans, and they are in black and white, although another date is about to be questionably added into the 'cliff notes'.

Legs uncross, a hand smoothing the white blouse over her abdomen towards the high-waisted line of slacks. The pen is plucked from her bun, tapped over lips in her rise as she looks between Scott and Rogue with a smile. It is foreboding. "We will make it the Hap-Hap-Happ…" Cringe, it /hurts!/ "Holidays and all'ah that jazz!" Her other hand plucks up her clipboard.

"I want a sitrep on the damages and /why/, also… Island escapades are in a possibe order, but Rogue is wanting France and after all of the chaos of Holidays, Birthdays, and Demons… I think I will get those tickets." A slide of gaze from Scott towards Rogue, a tap of pen's wnd to her brow and she smiles, though this time it is a bit waning.

They will need that vacation.

"I need to go change. I am not getting old stucco on my Versace." Scoff!

Sashay Exit Stage Right!


Rogue would kind of just block the talk of Genosha right out of her head, she wasn't ever going back there and she didn't care if the island sank into the ocean. But rather tahn talk about it, ever again, she just sipped on her tea and looked back to Betsy.

"You're the greatest." She said at the British woman who was far more classy than she could ever dream of being.

"You wanna go anywhere, you know I'm right there with ya." Which was mostly true, unless it was to GENOSHA!

Rogue swept her green eyes back to Scott then and she eyed him closely, showing a faint smile. "You gonna wear fancy Christmas sweate'ahs this year, Miste'ah Summe'ahs?" Even she could play up her own accent when she wanted to use it for funsies.

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