16039/Hunting for the Countess, Betsy found something far worse

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Hunting for the Countess, Betsy found something far worse
Date of Scene: 07 February 2024
Location: Cemetary nearest Mutant Town
Synopsis: Psylocke encountered Dracula in the cemetaries looking for the Countess.
Cast of Characters: Dracula, Psylocke




Dracula has posed:
The cemetary is quiet by all appearances. There isn't a lot of activity anyway. A few mausoleums might work for a hiding place for the Countess. Maybe in the far corner, there might be a pair of teens getting their alone time.
Psylocke has posed:
The rumor was... dubious at best. Plucked from the mind of a half-drunk mutant, overheard from a third. In terms of primary source knowledge it was about the worst one could get.

But Betsy Braddock is hunting a woman who is hunting mutants, and nothing is off limits, no lead too futile to at least give a cursory glance over. It's the fourth one tonight, and this one the least compelling of the leads she has. She's nothing if not determined. Most would accuse her of being closer to obsessive, and they would not be wrong on that score.

The woman's dressed in a tight-fitting black outfit that clings to and highlights all her curves simultaneously. In terms of protection its useless, given her arms and legs are bared; but protection is not the purpose. The outfit gives her complete and total ease of moment as she stalks though the cemetery, casting her mind out ahead of her.
Dracula has posed:
She finds that there are two younger sorts making out in the far corner of the cemetary. At the far mausoleum, she picks up a brain pattern that is not normal. Almost as weird as the Countess, but far more powerful. It defies being scanned or being entered in any way. A curious mind for sure.
Psylocke has posed:
Betsy can hear their thoughts. Young passion burning brightly and without any regard for the consequences. At that age, there is almost nothing to fear because they know so little of what life is truly like.

She envies them not at all.

There are many reasons why a might might resist her considerable telepathic talents. Not all of them nefarious. And yet the presence of one such here after that dubious lead... she can't take the chance. Psylocke gives the lightest of nudges to the pair making out. /It's cold. They should go somewhere far more comfortable. A car?/ Only when they are moving away does she advance, not by walking her way in, but moving between shadows. One moment she's out in the graveyard, stepping into a shadow... the next she's inside that mausoleum, lingering in another to get a feel for what's inside.
Dracula has posed:
Precision work. Dracula is always impressed with such things. Add to the face the woman is a beauty of few equals. He watches her move around, losing her and refinding her a time or two. The kids were an interesting prospect, but this one if far more interesing.

When she enters the mausoleum, he waits for her to get in there. In a few moments she hears a voice from behind,"I would welcome you to my home, but I don't know your name. How can I help you?"
Psylocke has posed:
Betsy can't see him, as she would anyone else. What little she can sense of his mind feels... familiar. A little bit like the Countess. But different, too. She can't reach past whatever version of shielding he has -- not without making it obvious she's trying -- and that's usually a poor way to make an acquaintance.

But she's completely alert, aware.

When he appears behind her, she doesn't even seem to move, she just reappears in another shadow, this time putting her back to a wall. "Your home?" she speaks, because he seems to know she's there, anyway, and politeness is baked into the British half of her. "Then I hope you forgive the intrusion. Curiosity brought me here." A truth, indeed, if not the whole one. "I seek a woman... the Countess Cerise Lamarre."
Dracula has posed:
He watches her move between shadows and his right brow raises curiously. That is a trick he needs to learn. Shaking his head he admits,"It is a temporary place. A place for meetings, but it sounds strange to say that."

His face doesn't show any recognition when the name is mentioned. A shake of his head and he replies,"There is on Countess here. Merely a Count. Myself. Count Vlad Teppis." A beat for that to sink in,"Count Dracula to most."
Psylocke has posed:
/I know it sounds crazy,/ Angelica had said, but Betsy believed her then, even before she shared the memory. And now, standing here, there's a threat assessment done. Extreme heat, and wood, neither of which she presently has. Not fond of losing their heads? That she could do, but.

/"Now now, remember my master wants them alive, so he can feast on their delectable blood.."/

Psylocke's violet eyes narrow. There's no visible change, but it almost seems like she's a different person, all of a sudden. Her voice is cold, remote. It has a trace of a Japanese accent; even the way she holds herself is different. She is light on her feet; ready. "You took some of ours. You will return them. You will get only one warning, and then we will come for you. We will hunt you to the ends of the earth, if need be, as we too, have been hunted."
Dracula has posed:
His expression stays neutral and he doesn't seem in the least bothered by any of it. Instead, like an aristocrat, his expression is almost smug. The change in voice gets a moment of consideration, but otherwise no.

"I have taken something of yours?" he asks curiously,"That is a bold statement. Say you are right. Say I did. Now say I refuse to return and I refuse to hide. Now what?" Oh he's an annoying creep.

His eyes meet the steely eyes of Psylocke. His alilities of hypnosis are potent, but take a little time. If her shields are primed against such things this could take all night and never take her thoughts. Still, he attempts to sway her will to something more in line with his own.
Psylocke has posed:
The thing about Psylocke is that her shields are always up. Even to other psychics, her powers don't register; she's /silent/ to them, her mind protected. Here, knowing what he is the warnings she's received, she's even more guarded. Oh, in time, he could break her. He could create cracks in that shield and slither through them and bend her to his will; that much he knows. But nothing so immediate. Just the temptation of sensing her power.

"You refuse?" the purple-haired woman echoes. "Then you have made your choice, and you shall wear the consequences. You were warned."

Psylocke does not explain. She does not give him more than he needs to know. But a threat against mutants is always the one thing that unites them all, even after they've been warring against -- or amongst -- themselves. Between one step and the next, she disappears, and with it, the sense of her presence, too.
Dracula has posed:
He is set to fight. So many dirty tricks that he might use other than his mental prowess. As she moves, his body starts to shift into a mist form. When she is gone, the shift moves back to the human form.

He frowns darkly and turns around the room. This is some next level power that he isn't familiar with. Something else he wishes to discover use for. He is wary for a few moments, but the longer she doesn't seem to be here the easier it is to accept.