15945/So, how long is a piece of string (theory)

So, how long is a piece of string (theory)
Date of Scene:	03 January 2024
Location:	Lucifer's Penthouse, Melville
Synopsis:	A little post-new year get together, with some dire leanings. But mostly good food and cigars.
Cast of Characters:	Sinister, Psylocke, Phantasm (Drago)

---

Sinister has posed:
Whilst it is not exactly normal for Nathaniel Essex to be cordially inviting people to the devil's penthouse, it does happen. This is after all, his most frequent home on top of it being Lucifer's, so it stands to a measure of reason that he does occasionally put shout-outs out there.

And for once, it wasn't a last minute text, but a short, but sweet email.

    Come catch up. Happy new year. There will be pizza and/or chinese food. ~Nathaniel~

And there is. But it being him, there's both and he couldn't decide what everyone might be in the mood for so ordered BBQ chicken and pepperoni half-and-half, chop suey, dumplings, deep fried wontons and bottles of wine/beer.

Psylocke has posed:
It is sweet. Kind of random, though.

So it's the reason Betsy comes prepared for an ambush, Sinister having been taken over by an evil clone, or, indeed -- actually just a chill meal to celebrate making it to a New Year.

Her preparations consist of picking out comfortable but stretchy designer jeans, a close-fitting tank top, a small body harness that houses several sharp implements -- and a fluffy purple coat that matches her hair. Oh, and a bottle of Dom, of course.

One always likes to come prepared.

After all, the bottle can be used as a weapon, too. The scent of food that assaults her when the elevator doors open is not the kind of assault she really expects though. Betsy breathes out, bringing her heart rate down. "Nathaniel?" she calls. "Lucifer?"

Sinister has posed:
"Just Nathaniel," once the elevator dings open and the scents tell the story of having gone over the top. He's got a vest and sleeves rolled up, black velvet over brushed silk, leather pants and... fuzzy raven slippers. They quack with each step as he moves to the fire, stokes it and sets some background music on the go. "Aaaaaah, the perignon, a thing of beauty and a joy forever... or at least until we open it and drink a small fortune in five minutes. I hope the flight from England was pleasant enough?"

Because of course he knew.

Psylocke has posed:
Betsy's mouth parts, because the fuzzy slippers are... just, in general, all kinds of cute and her brain needs a moment to process this. Yeah, she's more startled by the slippers than the fact Sinister somehow knew she spent New Year's overseas. Also delighted, if the smile that follows is any indicator.

"You continually manage to surprise me, Nathaniel," Betsy says, her smile genuine as she moves towards the fire. "Happy New Year," she says, going up onto her toes to kiss his cheek, before she surrenders the bottle to his care.

"It was restful after an unpleasant New Year's. If I'm honest, I half expected-" is it neurotic to admit you're always expecting an ambush, or just the sign of friendship? Oh well. "-dressed for something else. So forgive." She'll unbutton her coat, laying it over the arm of a couch. No mistaking that harness and all the sharp things glinting off it, as she eases out of it.

"A New Year always beings new problems, in my experience."

Sinister has posed:
"You know, I was just saying that to Nick the other day; he claimed it's a psychological snafu of the human psyche, but now everything seems more pressing than it did before. Maybe it's an English thing," he supposes such a thing, leaning in to the kiss to his cheek and simply visually cataloguing the arsenal that's being hung up over there on the back of a chair.

He clears his throat a bit, shifts his weight as he assesses the year of the Dom Perignon and causes a kind of farty pair of quacks out of the slippers because of it. Qaaaaaaaack -- like the fuzzy footware is on the same dance card as the perilous beginnings of a new cycle around the sun.

"Hmmm, nice vintage..." glasses float over, settle themselves and with a glance at the cork it is unceremoniously popped without problem with but a glance. Telekinesis cheats, sometimes.

"...I might add that I try surprise on like a new shirt, most of the time. I like to keep things novel."

Psylocke has posed:
"It is a reminder of lost time. Lost opportunities," Betsy's violet gaze cants his way. "For most of us, anyway," she adds, with a little, knowing smile. "How is Nick, anyway? I haven't seen him in a while. I think the last time was us drinking, also."

It's the practice of habit that makes Betsy hang the harness up in such a way that it balances; but also, to the keen eye, in such a way that she could easily grab it if needed. She drifts back toward the fire, her eyes on the floating glasses with a little quirk of lips, before she stares down at Sinister's slippers.

"I didn't get Christmas gifts. And now I feel like I should and I have /ideas/. For you, anyway. What does one get the devil? Or a rockstar?" Casually, tagged onto the back of that thought, she adds: "Did I mention I met Seven?"

Sinister has posed:
"No, you did not," Sinister replies, looking down at his feet for a moment, grinning and proffering the Dom after pouring the bubbly out, with an elegant gesture. "Whimsical things, by the by. To answer your inquiry, because frankly, we've got most everything." He bounces on his feet to the tune of more quacks, as an emphasis on that.

"He sang on new year here, which went down well. Composing a new piece... and you -should- be able to inquire yourself imminently, he ought to be here. If he's not I might have to look disappointed at him later. And we might have to figure out how to be creative with too much pizza pie and american-chinese cuisine."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
As if summoned by the mentioning of his name, there's the parting of the elevator door as Psylocke mentions meeting Seven. Once the doors open all the way, Nick steps out, "Seven seems to get around." Nick comments, pausing as eyes set upon the cutlery attached to Betsy. Not as overkill as Shredder but...that's still a lot of blades.

Nick turns his head to look to Sinister, "By any chance did you find my phone around where I was sitting?"

Psylocke has posed:
"Brian always said it was impossible for him to find something to buy me for the same reason," but the smile Betsy's giving suggests she approves of /whimsical/. "It feels like forever since I've just gone shopping for something that wasn't for need." She has been a /tad/ obsessed with this whole vision-slash-end-of-the-world thing to say the least.

Taking the stem of the glass from Sinister with a nod of thanks, she lifts it in a silent toast, sipping the drink with the kind of savoring appreciation it deserves.

"Ah. I'm disappointed I missed it," Betsy admits, of Nick's new song. "Is that the price of refusal? A disappointed look?" the purple-haired telepath makes a humming sound. "I'm glad I chose to come then. They are particularly soul crushing to me."

"You, too?" Betsy's head swivels towards Nick, smiling in welcome. "Interesting, who he's choosing to seek out. Happy New Year, by the way, Nick," she says, walking over to him to offer a brief kiss on the cheek. Don't mind all the shiny sharp stuff. She put it on a chair, it's totally safe now. "Nathaniel said you performed at the club. If I hadn't had other plans I would have liked to have seen it."

Sinister has posed:
"Interesting is relative. I don't exactly have a social circle teaming with friends fawning over my every word," Sinister chuckles, giving a nod of his head toward Nick as he arrives. "No, I did not find your phone, though I wasn't exactly looking for it..." he glances over to where the man had been, frowning at the cushion seat of the day before yesterday.

"Betsy travels with ginsu, it is something to appreciate when you can conceal them in some intriguing places. It was a thoroughly enjoyable performance." Which it was, but there's other things to consider, like whimsy and he does hazard an amused, sloe-eyed look toward the purple haired telepath.

A crisp turn on his heel and he quacks over to his stuffed high-back by the fireside, another glass of Dom being poured and floated toward the musician.

"Speaking of the doom and gloom oncoming, do you have any kind of sense of our timeline? That was something I wanted to see about, to work out how panicked I need to be about getting everything lined up right. Duckies in a row and all that shenannigans."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick seeing the kiss come in, he tilts his head, making the contact to cheek a bit easier. He smiles, giving a nod to her. "Hello Betsy. He's right. It went pretty well. No equipment or crowd issues. And no worries about missing it. If things work out ok, there should be more opportunities through this year."

With Sin confirming that he did not see the phone, Nick nods, "It's alright. I'll have a look."

Nick moves over to the chair to check, chuckling to the ginsu comment. "I'm a bit kinder to the TSA." Nick comments, hand brushing along the seam of the cushion to see if there's anyway something could have gone under. "I just travel with sticks."

Psylocke has posed:
"I'm kind," Betsy counters with a smile. "You would be surprised how little I actually need to use my abilities to provide a distraction. There are specific dresses I had designed that have metal in them... anyway. Yes. I do like to come prepared." She's not going to deny it. She is who she is.

"I'm glad to hear that," she responds to Nick, with a smile. Switching the glass to her other hand, Betsy draws her phone out from the pocket of her jeans, unlocking it and offering it to Nick. "Try calling yourself?" she suggests.

Doom and gloom. It's not coincidence that Betsy choses that moment to take a sip of the champagne, letting the bubbles slip down her throat before she answers. "I have always feel a sense of urgency, of imminence," she admits. "The visions, though," she says, fingers tapping lightly against the glass. "They have been growing more frequent. Annoyingly so." Her lips twist. "If I'd thought about it logically, I probably should've tracked them in some way. Perhaps there's something in the... quantum entanglement... that makes them more intense the closer the meteor gets?"

Pure speculation on her part, to judge by the lilt of her voice.

"But also, speaking of doom and gloom... are we going to talk about him?" Seven.

Sinister has posed:
"So it's probably logical to look at astrological surveys and previous elipticals, that ought to give me... probably around July to get things all in order...." Sinister grimaces slightly, watching the rummage and tapping at his breastbone. "Stilettos in the bustier, did become a thing. But you do not really need to carry much to be distracting at the best of times. To borrow from Marilyn Monroe, you could probably wear a potato sack and look fabulous, my dear..." smiling, he settles himself back, crossing fuzzy slippers at the ankle with his legs stretched out and keeps half an eye on Nick's rummaging, glancing to the proffered phone, because that ought to work except: "...I think it's on silent. Often is when he's otherwise distracted or doesn't want to be..."

A long inhale follows. "I'm open to it," is exhaled out. "Not that I have much to really comment other than he gets around. He is... well, quite frankly, mentally unnerving for me. But he's also probably going to be useful in the end. By the by, I think Rogue is an -excellent- choice for the X-force team. One other person not intent on immediately ganking me in the base of my skull is a delight."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nathan's right again." Nick confirms, "But the offer is appreciated, Betsy. Besides it's the work phone so if it's not here I can track it. It's just a pain in th-"

Nick doesn't finish that sentence as two fingers manage to tug out the phone between the chair cushion and frame. "And there we go."

Phone displayed, Nick shifts his grip on the phone, sliding it into his pocket. "One less thing to be concerned about this evening."

Nick quiets as he looks to the other two as they discuss Seven. Being he's the only one in the room who has apparently not met him, he does not have much to contribute to that part of the conversation and so he shifts to listening mode.

Psylocke has posed:
The look Betsy gives Nathaniel is amused. "Probably," of her being able to wear a sack, "But I'd only do it if I had invested in a sack-making company first. If just to prove to my brother I do occasionally have a head for business." No, she's not in any way serious about that. A big part of how she presents herself is intended as a distraction from what she does when others aren't looking.

"Even on silent, you'll hear the buzz," Betsy suggests, with the air of someone who possibly has lost her phone once too many times. When he declines, she returns the phone to her pocket, moving over to choose a seat close to the fire and settling in, legs crossed as she reclines.

Betsy's watching Nathaniel carefully when he speaks of Seven, with an intensity that a non-telepath might suspect comes with a touch of his mind. But it does not; she merely observes keenly. "He's... charming, intelligent, dangerous. The best parts of you and Lucifer. I really hope he's not secretly the cause of our pending demise because I'd very much like to avoid having to hurt him." She glances at Nick, visibly curious. "How did you find him?" she just assumes, given he seemed to know who Seven was. Her fingers tap to a steady beat as she does so. Pure coincidence and she's totally not listening in to Nick's musical thoughts.

There's an exhale of laughter from Betsy at the mention of Rogue. "She didn't give me much choice, truthfully. Me, or Logan. I didn't know her so well, when I left the X-Men the last time. I think perhaps I misjudged her; her determination impressed me. I think she'll be a good balance for us."

Sinister has posed:
There's a snort, not of derision but of the kind of black amusement that comes from the victorian monster. "Prosaic, Betsy..." his only small comment until she's looking at him intensely and giving her own two shillings to the kitty. His jaw shifts, the motion visible to her as she's giving such scrutiny.

"It would be a shame to have to. It would also be exceptionally difficult, given the nature of him, who he actually is..." there's a pause, thoughtful as other things are assessed in silence. "In fairness, he is ahead of the game over us, so I cannot in any way, shape or form, deny that he might have alterior motives in this. He's playing the -game- just as I would, which beggars the question of what he gets out of it, if anything at all. Altruism looks like a silk ballgown on a donkey, more often than not does it not?" He asks that with a tip of his head, glancing over to Nick. Maybe he isn't certain if the young man's been visited or not.

But the last draws a wry smile. "Rogue is herself, very, very vigorously. There's a million motivations behind that, but...." tongue cluck "...it's one thing that can be counted on to be true. She'd rather die than be otherwise."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"If you have the phone on vibrate." Nick replies back to Betsy's counter. "Barring extreme circumstances, that's getting shut off too if I'm exhausted and really need to sleep." There's probably more explanation behind why Nick does the things he does but the general need to convey it has passed. The phone is found and back in pocket. Let us rejoice.

The question to how Nick met Seven gets a blink. "That's one I haven't met." He admits, "I just know of him from what was said of him." Nick glances over to Sinister. "Things to gain from stopping an apocalypse type event? Well, it kind of limits places to go should it occur."

He glances over to Betsy, "A- Rogue seems alright. Although my interactions with her have been few and far between."

Psylocke has posed:
"It /would/ be a shame," Betsy agrees, barely a murmur over her glass. She sips, but she's watching Nathaniel closely almost the entire time. "You're in a far better position to determine his end goals than I. He did promise honesty," she says, with a significant glance at the scientist. Nathaniel did, /too/. "I'd imagine he doesn't want to see the worlds squished out of existence, but beyond that...?" she can't, and won't speculate yet. That Nick hasn't met Seven yet is met with a thoughtful look. Or maybe the look is to do with curiosity about his sleep pattern choices.

"I'm afraid it may come to that." Dying. What a cheerful thought to start the new year with.

Speaking of which, Betsy leans forward and reaches out -- echoing Nathaniel's earlier gesture to bring the bottle of dom towards herself to refill her glass. "Please don't waste that glass, Nick," she amends, glancing at the one Nathaniel floated to Nick earlier. "I have a thought though, if you're up for it. Perhaps you'd be willing to step into one of my visions sometime. It's not a dream, though I sometimes get them when I'm dreaming, so I think it might still work. Maybe you'll see something I haven't. Something that can give us a clue about timelines?"

Sinister has posed:
"That's an absolutely cracking idea, Betsy..." another look to Nick "...that is if you're willing? Then again, you've taken a stroll through my psyche, it's at least preparatory." A nod of encouragement follows with a raised pair of brows in indicator of the glass. A particularly fine and rather expensive drink to be had and not squandered after all.

He sips his own, finishing it up and floating the glass over to Betsy whilst she's playing mother dearest.

"I did promise that, didn't I?" is murmured. "And he is also Lucifer, who will not lie on principle, not when the truth is a good deal more far fetched and occasionally cutting. But that doesn't preclude omissions or skirting an answer in a lasse faire manner." He muses, gaze narrowed at the bottle in hand. "My motives are fair -- I don't want this world ending any more than anyone else, it's got all my shiny things in it."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Glass?" Nick looks to his empty hands and turns, finding the offered one to his side, apparently following along as he was distracted by the search for phone. "Oh." Not otherwise occupied, the musician transfers some attention to the glass, plucking it out of the air. "Thank you." He pauses to take a sip. Remaining quiet a few moments after to taste it. Also it allows for him to listen in on topics he has less clout in.

Nick's attention heightens to the mention of stepping into visions. He thinks about Buffy briefly, back to a time when she still remembered him. When she had a similar issue that turned out to tainted by something else.

"I would be willing." Nick replies with a nod, "I'm finding a few things that aren't dreams end up being close enough." He looks to Sinister, "I'm not escorting anyone for this, am I?" Range of motion is a desirable thing, especially when your abilities require crossing through other people's turf.

Psylocke has posed:
Betsy's lips part to protest that the mind of one Mister Sinister is hardly preparation for /hers/ -- but stops. With the presence of a secondary consciousness, at least one actual death, and plenty of mental manipulation, hers isn't exactly going to be a delightful landscape of butterflies.

"...I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment," she concludes. She is, however, smiling, as she refills the floating glass of Nathaniel. A little mental nudge sends it floating back to its owner, now full. "I'd imagine Seven doesn't think all that different from you in that regard, Nathaniel. One can't enjoy a world if there's no world to exist in."

While she's doing that, the woman doesn't look at Nick, giving him an opportunity to weigh up an answer. The warm smile that follows his agreement might well speak to relief and gratitude both. "Thank you. Worst case you watch me sleep for a bit, and nothing happens." Well, not /the/ worst case. But she's playing it lightly. Visions can't hurt. Right? At Nick's question of Nathaniel, her brow lifts and she looks his way.

Nothing in the telepath's expression betrays any discomfort at the idea of Mister Sinister in her head.

Sinister has posed:
And in the moment that she looks, she's being looked right back at, with an equal measure of eyebrow lifting. Maybe this is a pivotal moment? "Not a passenger situation, no. I don't need your assistance to enter, Nick." Oh, dear. And then comes the surprise.

"But if you'd rather I wasn't there at all, I can observe from the outside. It might be important for there to be someone that can pull both of you apart, if things go south. Safely." The last seems to be an afterthought, but dammit if the villain isn't grinning as he reaches for the returned glass of Dom. It's raised silently to Psylocke.

"But anyway, we can hope that you are correct Betsy... and that this venture proves to be enlightening, because we really do need a few firm anchorage points."

Then, at last, there's a magnanimous open palmed gesture at the feast laid out. "And please, don't make me have to explain to Lucifer just why I have enough food to feed an entire football team."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
If Sinister's admission that he can enter the mind without help was to be a surprise, there's no showing of it upon Nick's features. But then again, there was the field trip through Lucifer's psyche they both took. Perhaps it was someone else he was thinking of.

"...ok."

To the mention of having to pull them apart. He looks over to Betsy. "Strictly observation," Nick states, "Or do you prefer a more direct interaction?"

Psylocke has posed:
Just a little twitch from Betsy as Sinister says he doesn't need the help. Minuscule, indeed. "Whatever's best for the outcome," she says, oh-so-casually. The concession to safety is the thing that catches the telepath off guard enough that her gaze drops for a second, lips parting, the breath of an unvoiced syllable humming. By the time Nathaniel raises that glass her way, she has control of herself again. "Wise," is all Betsy concludes.

Anchorage points. "For your machine?" she asks, with visible curiosity. "Points in both time and space?" she guesses.

Despite the tempting scent, Betsy had completely forgotten about the food in wake of the conversation. Not obsessed at all, nope. "I don't know about Nick, but I certainly can't eat enough for half a football team," she does, however, uncross her legs and lean forward to take a plate, filling it with a selection from different dishes.

"I wouldn't say prefer, but I defer to your expertise, Nick." A beat. "I trust you to make the call as needed. I've never been able to alter the course of a vision in the vision itself, so I'm not even sure if it would work."

Sinister has posed:
"It's a technique that takes a bit of finesse, Betsy. I could teach you, if you were willing. But I have a feeling there might be a few protests if I start being ahhh... overly helpful," Sinister does not load his own plate until everyone has had something, it is the nature of a gracious host after all. Appearances must be maintainted!

"I also refuse to comment on the appetite and ability to put it away, on account of it could be a minefield," sip, eyes ticking from the telepath to the dream-walker, back and forth.

"Mostly anchorage in time, as the space is irrelevant. I can add a chronomatic count to the programming of the current iteration, to add a greater focus to the outcome. But I also just want to know how long I have to get the thing working in proper calibration, as opposed to being ticked out of synch by the near-parallels. That really does have to be fixed, before it's reliable."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick holds back from filling his plate, allowing for Betsy to go first. And as Sinister did the inviting, Nick goes after. Betsy's comment about eating heavy gets a chuckle as he looks to the larger model. "While I will acknowledge there are food eating competition winners who are smaller than me, normally I'm not presented this much food when it's meant just for just four people." He admits. His plate is looking ok in terms of allotment, although the rim is still quite visible as he starts to step away and towards the ch-

Scratch that, he'll sit at the bar area. Less cushion to lose phones in.

Hearing Betsy's response to the dreamwalking preferences, Nick nods. "Very well. I'll base it off of what I see. And as a follow up... How far into the vision does it take for you the consciously recognize it as such?"

Psylocke has posed:
As much as she likes to pretend otherwise, Betsy does have quite a few weaknesses. One of them is her penchant to throw herself into any given situation, even when she knows it's dangerous -- sometimes /because/ it's dangerous. The other is knowledge to better enhance her own skillset. Not hard to guess which is more in play with the keen curiosity in purple gaze as she touches a finger to her lips, exhales, and says, "I'm willing." A beat, as her mouth twitches. "Who is going to protest who hasn't already made their opinions well known?"

"Wise," Betsy echoes her earlier words, this time on the topic of avoiding appetites. She seems to have a normal one, despite her figure. Then again she is very active, and she appreciates very good food. "The dumplings are excellent. Did you order from five... six different places?"

"Right. Seven mentioned something similar. All the timelines' versions have to be in harmony with the one here for us to not explode in paradox. I'd very much like to avoid that. It sounds like an unpleasant way to end an existence."

Her gaze tracks Nick in his progress to the bar. Funny, how Betsy seems to be more unsettled at the talk of the vision than of paradox explosions. "I always know, with these ones. It's the... it's a feeling. A hum that you can't consciously hear, like a resonance, almost." A thing that's hard to articulate. "I can feel /it/." She exhales, resting the plate on her lap, still. "Much more now, since I touched the meteor and... channeled it. There's a," she pauses, "Non small chance that this might bring you to its attention."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister nods softly. "Indeed, I did." Because when you can, why not? He smiles at the willingness and it's a small but very present thing, gaze calm and sloe'd as he loads his own plate, satisfied in his high backed chair. For the nonce though, he is quiet, because this is something he wishes to listen to and it's not he who is being asked such things or made observations about.

Nick is definitely in the spotlight at the moment and the dumplings truly /are/ excellent.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick sets the plate down at the bar, a glance over to Psylocke as she adds in that itsy bitsy teenie weenie detail. A non small chance of being brought to its attention. Quite a serious detail indeed isn't it? And it is very right to include that as part of a warning. Although the timing of warning after he agreed to do it is a little poor.

Nick is still for a moment before he starts to chuckle. Then it progresses into a full out laugh.

A breath.

More laughter.

To those who may be close enough, it may even become apparent that some tears have formed.

And then the laughter dies away. "Well, it can go get in line." Nick replies, looking down to his plate and securing a dumpling. "You know typically that should probably be brought up before the 'if you're willing' line." Nick comments before taking a bite.

Psylocke has posed:
As the silence extends, Betsy doesn't immediately resume eating, instead, sipping from her glass as if washing away the unpleasant sense-memory taste of those moments.

The noise -- the laughter -- from Nick is unexpected. She stares at him with widening eyes, cuts a glance towards Nathaniel as if his expression might clue her in, then back. It's not until Nick says /it can go get in line/, that she breathes out what seems a surprisingly unsteady breath. Relief, maybe?

Betsy is very, very deliberately is staying out of Nick Drago's mind right now.

"Probably," the telepath concedes. "But I'm personally willing to do a lot to counteract this outcome. Even... uncomfortable moments of awareness with friends." It's a thing she absolutely ought to apologize for. She doesn't, though.

Sinister has posed:
"You're not supposed to break my friend," Sinister says this wryly with a halfsmile, finishing off the glass he refilled and plucking and picking at his meal. "It's not cricket, for one. Plus, he gets hysterical and then you end up laughing along with... it's very messy at the wrong moment," there's the hint of a wink and a nod in agreement to Nick's sentiments.

"There really is a list now isn't there? Ah well, the longer the list the harder your allies hit them. I do rather enjoy this not-being-alone thing. It's /refreshing/. Like an after dinner mint." And with all that, there's also a floating over of a nice box of cuban cigars, the lid lifted as it makes the rounds of silent offerings.

"For now though, this was -mostly- meant to be pleasure, not business. Shall we dwell on this another evening? You two do need to swap appointment times though." He blithely offers.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick nods as he swallows the bit of food in his mouth. "Apparently since I was born." Nick adds to the confirmation of Sinister's question. "It just gets longer as time goes. Although," He pauses to secure another piece, "It has led to a few interesting friendships. So, it's not all bad."

The next bite of food is taken in as the musician nods once more, but this time to Sinister's suggestion.

Yes. Food first, adding to the list later. Good choice.

Psylocke has posed:
"Not my intention," Betsy says, with absolute sincerity to Nathaniel, without taking her eyes off Nick. "Side effects though may be unintended." The confirmation that there is a /list/ and it's not just a metaphor gets Nick a curious look from the telepath. No pressing though. Definitely not tonight. "Sounds familiar," is all she says, with a little quirk of her mouth.

"It does take some getting used to, having others. Also /accepting/ help," Betsy adds, as she takes another sip of her glass, and seems to shift back into normal movement after. The floating offering is regarded and accepted, tucked away for after food. She's not normally a fan of cigars, but if they're facing the end of the world soon enough, why not indulge?