8844/Souvenirs

Souvenirs
Date of Scene:	17 August 2019
Location:	Apartment 4A, Bedford Towers
Synopsis:	Illyana and Betsy unwind after saving lives.
Cast of Characters:	Psylocke, Magik

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Psylocke has posed:
It isn't all that often that Betsy gets to feel like a real hero, but she does today.

She led a team upstate, saved a commune of mutants from a forest fire and fought off an attack from some sinister individuals.

It was a good day.

It's already getting dark as they step into the apartment, Betsy yawning widely and depositing her bag on the little table by the door. She's changed out of her mission gear, but only into some gym sweats so she wouldn't dirty up another outfit.

Magik has posed:
Illyana never really feels like a hero.

She sometimes feels less horrible doing good things.

Tonight is not one of them. She is covered in mud and whatever it is cyborgs bleed, but her contribution was neglegible. Nevermind the way the refugees looked at her on the way back from the mission. If reminds her of the way Josh and Jubilee looked at her.

The way everyone does except Betsy.

She changed, in that her armor simply vanished, into something cleaner and washed most of the mud from her face and arms at the mansion when they returned. She's still a hot mess, but at least shes not tracking it everywhere as she makes her way towards the couch and drops down staring straight ahead.

"You did very good leading mission."

The first thing shes said in a while, glancing back at Betsy with a genuine, if small smile.

Psylocke has posed:
"You did a lot more than I did," Betsy says pointedly, moving to the kitchen and opening the fridge, "Water? Something else?"

She feels around inside for a minute before producing a bottle of vodka. One that Illyana brought back from a 'trip' to Russia, got half-drunk and then forgot. She puts it on the table, brushing some of the frost from the glass to admire the Cyrillic lettering up the side.

"I'm sorry we didn't bring the arm home," she says with a smile, wrinkling her nose, "I love he little devil plant but rotting limbs may be a bit too gauche. We can bathe in rose water and just pretend it's the blood of our enemies. Metaphors."

Magik has posed:
Illyana follows Betsy's traversal to the kitchen with a turn of her head, smiling the entire time and even lifts up to lean forward agInst the back of the cushions once she's temporarily out of view getting the vodka from the freezer.

"I only fight two people and I still cannot feel my arm." One of them hangs pseudo limp, though shes a le to bring it up and ball her hsnd into a weak fist. That's better than an hour ago. "I got cocked." Probably 'cocky'. Slang is still problematic for her sometimes.

"Blagodadyu vas, for bringing me on mission. I love seeing you fight." Funny that its sctually the first time, really.

"I like this idea... we pretending to splash blood of vanquished on our face... but it is only bubbles!" The simple pleasures!

Psylocke has posed:
"I was a bit nervous about bringing you on the mission," Betsy admits, "I didn't know what you'd think of the me who dismembers people with a psionic sword. But then, I imagine you already know that part even if you haven't actually seen it kick someone's teeth in before."

She shrugs her shoulders, snagging a couple of glasses with two fingers and carrying the vodka in her other hand as she moves out into the living room.

"Does someone need to look at your arm? If it's hurt, I'm sure someone could patch it up for you."

Magik has posed:
"I find it very attractive that you can do this." Illyana points out, watching Betsy return from the kitchen with the glasses and vodka in the same fashion. She once again turns to drop down in the cushion and pulls her knees up ince the telepath has taken a seat. Another turn and she lays back against the other woman back, to her hip and flops over her lap with both arms extending above her head. Though one is notible more sluggish than the other.

"If it is not better by morning I will talk to Josh." The way she says his name, not with anger, but something closer to hurt is probably indication enough as to why she hadnt already done so.

"You already know that I kill... that I hurt people. Why do you be nervous thst I see you do this? There is no part of you for me not to love. All very equal how I feel."

All up in the way of vodka pouring.

Psylocke has posed:
"I suppose," Betsy answers airily, letting it go and not dwelling on that any further, "But yes, do go see Josh if it isn't better. Even if I have to drag you along and give him a kick for being such an insensitive little so-and-so."

She pours the vodka into the glasses, passing one off to Illyana and taking the other for herself, "But bleh, I don't want to talk about all that."

Magik has posed:
Illy watches Betsy pour the vodka, tracking her with pale blue eyes for a moment. When her glass is held down, she takes it as she sits up and pulls both legs up beneath her on the cushion, shoulder to shoulder with the telepath.

"I will go see him." She says before a drink of the cold liqour, sucking in a sharp breath as it slides smoothly down her throat. "I do not always know what to say. I know I must sound very strange... Things that seem very normal to me are not.. I know this.. but..."

Her lips purse and she looks down at the glass pushed between her curled thighs.

Psylocke has posed:
Betsy sighs and shakes her head, looking down into the vodka class without drinking.

"Everything about everyone is strange. Rogue flies and can bench press a lorry. Kitty walks through walls. I can read minds," a pause, "some minds. There are students at the school who look like nothing you've ever seen before. It's all strange. Honestly, if he has an issue with one brand of strange? He's not much better than those people with the placards claiming God hates mutants."

She frowns, "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Magik has posed:
Illyana continues staring down at the vodka in her legs, "Da." Nodding moderately, hair tumbling down from her ears to hang across her face. After a second she pulls the glass up from her craddle and takes another drink. Similar effect to the first.

"I guess you are right." Patting Betsy's thigh and using it to push herself off the couch, draining the rest of her glass. "I am going to wash my face. I feel like a troll from swamp right now. Impossible to look at, not safe in sun."

She smiles, again very small and makes her way towards the bedroom with her glass still in hand.

Psylocke has posed:
"Off you go, Shrek dear," Betsy says, waving her fingers at Illyana as she gets up and heads to the bathroom, "I'll guard the swamp."

The telepath slumps back on the couch, looking at the glass of vodka for a moment before putting it off to one side and staring up at the ceiling.

Magik has posed:
It isnt long after she returns, cleaner by a large degree, but with wet hair. Upon getting back to the couch she slides a knee on the other side of Betsy's hip and leans down upon her arms cast over the arm of the couch behind the telepath's head.

Kneeling down until shes nose to nose, "I am very happy." She says this as if she's not certain hoe obvious it is. "I am always happy with you. I do not let people see this sadness I feel. Only you.. This is things I have always dealing with alone and ai no longer have to."

She kisses the telepath unless rebuked. "I love you, very much."

Psylocke has posed:
Betsy returns the kiss, leaning in to it for a moment before reclining back on the couch. It's a chaste little thing, not the prelude to anything salacious. But she nevertheless wraps an arm about Illyana, laying back and resting her head on the top of hers.

"I love you, too. You can talk to me about whatever you like. I can't promise I'll always understand it, but I'll always listen."

A pleased little sigh as she turns a strand of Illyana's wet hair around her finger, "I'm happy, too."

Magik has posed:
Illyana settles her head against Betsy's shoulder and tries to snake her arms around her neck against the cushions. One wont comply, the other really cant, so she moves it back up over the arm of thr couch to dangle above their heads.

"I do not need some to understand always. You accept me, that is what I need and you do this for me."

She leans up to kiss Betsy's jaw and makes a quiet sound of contentment when her hair is being played with.

"Peobably is vodka." She jokes when the telepath when she says she's happy too. Grinning like a shark and going for another kiss.

Psylocke has posed:
"Oh, I can't be happy without the vodka, hmm? You're the Russian here. I'm surprised it didn't start snowing indoors when you moved in."

Betsy returns the grin and the kiss, yawning and letting her eyes close as her head slumps down against Illyana's shoulder, "I accept. I always accept."

She murmurs a little, perhaps drifting off slightly, " ... mmm ... accept. Yes."

Magik has posed:
Illy smirks, bringing her head up enough to look at Betsy beginning to drift off.

Rather than wake her, she kisses her chin, her forehead, and the tip of her nose lightly. "I accept." She repeats and lays her head sideways on the telepaths chest.

sShe fumbles for thr remote and turns on the tv, switches to something horror, and watches it with the volume turned down low. Absently cheeing on the tip of her thumb nail with a grin and unblinking pale blue eyes until she too falls asleep.

Happy as clam.