12756/Beer, fishing, ice

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Beer, fishing, ice
Date of Scene: 26 February 2021
Location: Campsites - Breakstone Lake
Synopsis: Betsy stops by the lake where Logan is fishing. They catch up and have some laughs.
Cast of Characters: Wolverine, Psylocke




Wolverine has posed:
Sitting back in a lawnchair on the bank of the lake, Logan has a cowboy hat tucked down over his eyes with his legs extended out crossed at the ankles. His hands rest on his chest, the open ends of his flannel shirt over a tanktop dangling on the arms of the chair. The cold never really bothered him. It was iffy with the fish though. He's cut a small hole in the frozen ice atop the lake with one claw so the line from his fishing pole can hang down into the water.

A beer, a case of them really, is stuck into a small pile of snow beside his chair along with a radio playing some old rock music. Johnny Cash. Rebel radio. The good stuff.

Psylocke has posed:
At first he is alone. Then there is the scent he will know well. After all, she's a teammate. A friend. It's coming from the treeline. It wasn't a slow thing. It was like she was there all at once. Throw in there had been no sound at all until that moment. A sign she had teleported through the shadows to get there.

Betsy walked out from the dark at the treeline, wearing jeans with a pair of black boots. She had on a warm coat in a lavender color. Her hair was down, straight and falling to her mid back. Her hands were tucked into the pockets of her jacket.

"Mind some company?" she asks in her posh British accent as she walked out onto the ice, taking her time so she didn't slip.

Wolverine has posed:
Logan sniffs at the air a half second after Betsy appears, but doesn't glance back over his shoulder. He knows she's there, she knows he know she's there, what would be the point of all that? Besides, he's grinning beneath the lowered brim of his hat and reaching down to the beers shoved into the snow beside him. One is plucked up from the ice and under hand tossed up to her.

"Fish aint biting." He warns her, but it's unlikely she's here to do any fishing anyways. "But the beer is cold." Cracking one for himself, he knocks his hat back out of his way and takes a drink. Cutting his eyes up at her with a nod, "How ya doin'?"

Psylocke has posed:
Of course he knows. He always knows. Betsy smiles as the beer comes her way. Her hand is removed from the pocket and easily catches the bottle. She moves to stand near the hole in the ice, peering down into it as though she might see the fish swimming below. Obviously, she sees nothing but water with bits of ice forming around the edges and a line that disappears from his fishing pole into it.

She reaches for a second bottle, using it to pop the cap off the one she was alerady holding. The cap was pocketed and she put the full, capped bottle, back into the snow to stay chilled.

"I'm well. I had my fill of the school for the day. Didn't want to just go back to my apartment. Figured I'd find you out here somewhere. Are you well?"

Wolverine has posed:
Logan grunts as he moves. There's no pain to speak of, but his muscles still get as cold as anyones and can grow a little stiff if he sits too long, sitting up right rather than lounging out lazily in his chair. "I'm alright." He says with a nod, drinking more of his beer with a sigh, shoving it back down into the ice to give the line dangling into the hole a little flick. Mostly out of habit than expecting the fish to start biting.

"Got a bunch of fire wood cut for the weekend, figured I'd catch dinner." Rare treats being what they are, he shrugs indifferently. "Guess I'll be working on my frozen dinner game.. It's not delivery, it's dejorno." He murmurs, a smirk forming somwhere in his unshaven beardchops. Which he rubs at with the palm of his hand absently.

"I take it from the lack of smoke, nobody has set the mansion on fire?"

Psylocke has posed:
"It's still early," is the immediate quip to the question as Betsy smirks. It is a running joke how often the place needs to be repaired. And to be honest, they are long overdue on one.

"I could always go pick up something for you. Shadow porting means never having to eat frozen dinners. Do you know how bad that stuff is for you?" She remembers who she is talking to. "Forget I said that."

Taking a long swig of her beer, she looks around the lovely setting. "I see why this appeals. It's peaceful. But doesn't it ever bother you being with your own thoughts and nothing else?"

Wolverine has posed:
Logan snort laughs at both the commentary on it being early and how bad frozen dinners are for you, he doesn't say anything himself.. He just shrugs and tosses a sliver of stick, some of the bark he's peeling off, at the hole where his fishing line is resting. "So's gettin' shot, but we keep going out fighting them anyways."

More for humor than anything else.

Neither of them is afraid of a gun.

And he's not afraid of solitude. Shrugging with a glance around at the quiet, serene expanse of woods he's claimed for himself. "It's not so bad, most of the time. If you believe what people say about me, I don't have many thoughts anyways." Side smirk, eyes turned over towards her. "Better than listening to kids scream about who's cheating who at whatever fuckin' video game they're playing this week."

Psylocke has posed:
That earns a small laugh from her. "True. I can't argue against that. The worst thing is being able to tell who is telling the truth in the screaming but having to not interfere." She shakes her head a little bit.

"We both know better than what most people say about you is a load of shite," she says good naturedly. "You are far more man than animal. Yet, for some reason, it suits you to let people believe it. I won't question your methods. You've done it a long time now and it has worked for you."

Wolverine has posed:
"So far." Logan adds at the end of what Betsy's said of him, sucking at the back of his teeth with a curl of his bottom lip in a half pucker. "It gets a little harder to pull off every year. Jean's tryin' to get me to teach another class next semester." The chair groans under the weight of his body, a body full of metal.

"For long I'll be a hall monitor or something. Wearing one of those pussy ass cardigan sweaters Scott's always walkin' around in." Teasing Scott. It will never, ever, ever, eveeeeer get old for him. It's one of his few remaining, genuine pleasures.

It brings great joy.

"If you ever see me in a cardigan, please, do me a favor, and whip my fuckin' memories. I want to start over."

Psylocke has posed:
"If I see you in a cardigan, I'll do just that. What a horrifying image." Betsy gives a mock shudder, though her grin shows this is all in jest of course.

"At least I'm finally teaching something I like. They had me teaching English. People in this country don't speak the language nor spell properly for me to be effective in that role. And with martial arts being an elective, less students."

She takes another sip of her beer. That is one of her personal vices. She likes a good beer. Expensive didn't matter. A cheap beer was good as well, although most American brands were more like drinking tea to what she was used to. Yet it was the flavor, something about it.

"I'm certain you could get into something you like more. Survival perhaps? Though most of them would faint at the idea of being out in the wilderness."

Wolverine has posed:
"Without their precious cellphones." Logan grunts after his reply, shaking his head with the lingering smirk at her promise to wipe his mind if she sees him in a cardigan. "I swear to god, I have no idea how the world got so attached to those damn things. What's wrong with an encyclopedia? Hell, I remember when you wrote letters."

Pantomiming out the act of writing.

"That's why friendships lasted so god damned long back then... you had to write someone a letter, mail it, and wait six weeks for a reply. Now? Now you pust it on tweeting and instantly have seventy two dislikes because you're a fuckin' idiot. It aint even that they're stupider... it's just that everyone is the same stupid, immediate."

Huff... snort.. arms crossed.

"Jubilee set me up a tweeting page. I couldn't figure out how to take the words not be all capitalized. I'm sittin' there screamin' at everyone. Technology is dumb."

Psylocke has posed:
"Delete it. I understand the necessity of such things for some people who use their image to make money. I even pursued it once upon a time when I was modeling for my career. But I barely ever used it and let my P.R. people handle it because I was too busy out living life to stare at a screen."

Betsy imagine what his Twitter must look like and tried damned hard not to giggle. She failed.

"Just focus on this instead." She looked around at the ideal setting they were in, letting out a soft sigh as the beauty of it. "Leave that world to those who like it. Although I'm certain it amuses Jubilee to no end watching you try. To try something she likes. It means a lot to her, I'm sure. Under that amusement."

Wolverine has posed:
"Yeah, little shit laughed until she was cryin'." Logan says this under his breath, but there's no mistaken the affection in his tone. Kid's like a daughter to him, after all. Grumbling more, he snorts and shakes his head, "How the hell was I suppose to know what the eggplant thing meant? I was just sendin' them little pictograms tryin' to say I was hungry..." Leave it to the imagination, it's so much funnier that way.

Psylocke has posed:
Betsy bites the inside of her cheek. It manages to keep her from bursting out laughing at the images going through her head. Who knows what he had sent out there for the world to see.

Admittely, not the world. Likely he had a handful of people by this point, all of which probably were at the mansion and knew him. So that honestly might make it a lot funnier for them.

Maybe she needed to get a Twitter account again to see what he had posted.

"She should have given you some warning. Or ...something." She finishes off her beer, flipping the now empty bottle and then slipping it into her pocket. She'll get rid of it in the recycling bin when she gets home. There is a beep from her pocket and she grins, busted having a phone out here. The phone is pulled out of her other pocket and she quickly scans it. "And seems my brother needs me so I'm going to have to cut this short."

She tucks the phone away again. "Sorry to cut this short. It's been nice."

Wolverine has posed:
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up chuckles..." Logan says with a smirk of his own. He knows what that eggplant means now. He knows what he sent... and there's no amount of deleting it that that can prevent Negasonic from giving him shit until he dies. Or she does... whichever comes first.

He shakes his head and laughs, eventually, rolling his eyes and reaching for his beer. Right about the time Betsy finishes hers and says she needs to get going. "Aight. Was good seein' ya Betsy. I'd tell ya to be safe, but if you're brother needs ya, you're prolly about to go fight a dragon or something."

Beer back down in the snow. "Take care, though."