Owner	Pose
Ares	Dr. James Braddock and his wife Elizabeth were individuals of prominence in the United Kingdom, and their home Braddock Manor was a place of gathering where many decisions that affected the world were made. Political machinations, and business maneuvers all came together in the study... or the library... or the smoking room.     The surroundings helped to lend a certain air to them, the cultured wealthy individuals needing an atmosphere of indulgence to conduct themselves as making choices that would cause sweeping repercussions to those in their employ and the people that their efforts touched. Mostly they were all older pale men with pasty features and facial hair of some elaborate kind. Few of them paid attention to the servants around them, and even less attention to those little creatures known as children when they dared crossed their paths. At the most Jamie, Brian, and Betsy were treated like a necessary evil to tolerate when doing business with their father or mother.     But a few of those visitors weren't always so fit to type. Assuredly there were some who had no qualms about interacting with the servants or the children. Some ascribed these behaviours as entirely foreign affectations. Such as the Americans that visit. Always coming from new and uncouth money.     Such as that John Aaron fellow. He actually talked at times, treated the children like adults, answered their questions as truthfully as he could even if the answers were severe. He even had this trick of making his pocket knife disappear that none of them could ever figure out.     And today there he was again, talking with Dr. Braddock in the library, sharing a bottle of brandy.
Psylocke	There is no knock on the door. It just opens and in stomps Elizabeth. Even though she keeps trying to tell everyone her name is Betsy, they seem to think she's Elizabeth. The last time she saw Mr. Aaron, she was blonde haired and dressed in demure clothing that was befitting her station. This is not that girl. She's still only about 14 years old but she is dressed in almost all black. Her jeans are ripped strategically, the look that is paid for as opposed to one earned from wearing them for years. They are black other than where her skin shows through those slits along the thighs and knees, random cuts. A series of leather belts are wrapped around her waist and hips, twining in different directions that are again for appearance and not performance. Her tshirt is purple and announces 'The Ramones' across the front. It matches her hair.     She walks right in and puts her hands on her hips, looking at her father with a frown. "Brian said you wanted to see me. Again." She sighs, that put upon sound that only teens seem to be able to do properly. Then she notices they aren't alone and a hint of the girl he knew appears in the smile.
Ares	Dr. Braddock had been nodding at something that was said, but then frowns and holds his glass in both hands, transferring it to the other. "Elizabeth, can you not see that I am with a guest?" He is standing there in the library, a tall and strong man who cuts a similar image as the other fellow he's speaking with... though there is an element more to the refined in him. He shakes his head at her, but then can't help but mile as he look sidelong towards John Aaron.     "But," He turn back to her even as one of the maids step around from behind one of the stack of the book, her duster at work with a flicker of the wrist, and her manner rather demure so as to fade into the background while she works. "I believe it was your mother who wished to speak with you," He lifts his eyebrows, "You remember Mr. Aaron?" He gestures to the side.     To which John Aaron turns fully to face the young woman, "Elizabeth, it has been a few years. I see you are much unchanged." His lip twitches slightly.
Psylocke	"Betsy!" she corrects automatically, a roll of her eyes as she shoves her hands in the front pockets of her jeans. "I remember you, Mr. Aaron. You were always nice to me and Brian. Didn't treat us like two year olds all the time." She gives a pointed look to her father as she says that, the very picture of pubescent rebellion. "I guess I'll go find Mom then." She doesn't seem to be in a hurry to leave. The idea that she's interrupting something that her father finds important is appealing to her. Anything to ruffle his feathers.     She glances from one of them to the other then butts her nose right in there. "So, what's going on? Whatcha talkin' about that you had to lock up in here?" The boldness of youth. She hasn't learned tact. Nor has she learned it's rude to look into people's heads now that she's learned how to do it. There is a faint pink flare around her face, a butterfly effect focused around her eyes. Then she is brushing Mr. Aaron's mind with her own, trying to get a peek at the mind of the man who has been nice to them.
Ares	"No," Dr. Braddock says as he looks a little miffed at Elizabeth's behaviour, his brow knits as he seems to consider something, then shakes his head. "Your mother is... indisposed. I will convey the message to her. It is important she speak with you." For truly this is a family with a good deal of secrets beyond even the young telepath's ken. He steps back and then glances towards the maid, "Mrs. Willard, if you would please." He glances from the maid to Betsy, then back.     Mrs. Willard gives a nod, "Of course, sir." She smiles towards Elizabeth but then goes back to her dusting.     The Doctor then smiles a little ruefully towards John, "One moment, please."     "At your leisure, Dr. Braddock." Then he looks back towards Elizabeth and his brow furrows.     The Doctor sees those butterfly flares and he clears his throat, "Betsy!" He counters offering her 'new' name to her even as he chides her for using her newfound powers. "Just because you /can/ do a thing, does not mean you should." He takes a breath and frowns, "I'll be but a moment."     With that said he turns and steps towards the door, in search of Elizabeth's mother. The door closes behind him with a click.     As for the glimpse into John Aaron's mind he had looked curiously at her before her father interrupted her. The only hint she had gained was a cultured calm and centered relaxation of the mind that might seem a touch strange to her.
Psylocke	At that bark of her name, the pink flare is gone. She looks sharply over at her father, forced obedience by that tone alone. Then the storm clouds roll in as her anger flares high and hot. Her lips are pressed tightly together, her annoyance written in her expression for being called to task in front of their visitor. Her arms fold over her chest and she actually glares as her father makes his departure.     As soon as he is gone, her demeanor changes. She's more the child and less the rebel, dropping into a chair and draping her legs over one arm while she leans back against the other. "Sorry. Daddy says I'm not supposed to use my powers. I don't understand why not. I was given them for a reason, right?"     She glances at him, wondering at what she saw inside his brain. "Oh! You don't know about those. I seem to be a mutant. Daddy and Mummy aren't happy about it, I don't think. They keep telling me that I shouldn't show what I can do. I should just hide it away like a secret. They like secrets."
Ares	The maid glances over and gives young Elizabeth such a sad look, as if the poor dear was on a path in life that would only grant her some pain. She shakes her head then looks to Mr. Aaron, she looks back to her cleaning for now and continues to straighten and tend to the library books.     But John watches as she steps away and takes that seat on a chair. He listens to her words and gives a small smile, "Well, Elizabeth," He uses her formal name perhaps more out of respect for the family as opposed to disrespect for her new choices. "You are gifted, and you have an ability. But your father is correct. You should use some discretion. If you respect another you should let them have their own thoughts in privacy."     He steps around the small table that is between those comfortable over-stuffed chairs, taking one the opposite side of her in that circle of seats.
Psylocke	That earns a sharp look from Betsy, the frown back in place. "Oh so he told you. Did he tell you I can move things too? Sometimes. I'm not good at that. I like the telepathy better," she admits although she isn't trying to read his mind again. She shakes her head, the violet locks bouncing around her head for a moment.     "Why would he tell you when he wants me to not tell anyone. He says it isn't safe. That I might be in danger if people knew I was a mutant." She snorts in an unladylike fashion. "I think he's just embarassed and doesn't want the family name associated with something so weird." She has no idea that her parents weird secretes would make her mutancy seem trivial.
Ares	"Well," John looks at her and rubs the back of his head thoughtfully. "In the walks of life you will meet various people, and others with gifts as well. I have talents that aid me as well, though nothing like yours." He crosses a boot over his knee as he settles into his chair. "It's not embarrassment that has him concerned for you and wanting you to be careful. There are a lot of pitfalls with such abilities."     He smiles and tilts his head towards her, "I am sure that at times you've had uncharitable thoughts about your loved ones. That you've, in a fit of anger, thought something mean. How would you feel if someone had been listening to your thoughts then and then treated you differently because of them? Or worse imagine if down the line you become strong enough to hurt someone with your thoughts and you lose control of them? You could hurt someone while angry."
Psylocke	Betsy nibbles at her bottom lip as she considers. Hurt someone? With her mind. That doesn't even seem like something that could be. It's craziness to even consider it. She can just see what people think.     That explanation makes a lot of sense to her. There have been many times when she thought ill toward someone. She knew she didn't mean it but her temper was a bit infamous in their house so there had been some negative things to go through her brain. What if her parents had known. Or her brothers? She was close to Brian but at times he annoyed her. She looked up to Jamie like he was a hero. What if she had thought ill and he heard?     "I think I get it. But does that mean I should never use it?"
Ares	"Oh no, definitely not." John looks to the side as if perhaps expecting her father to come walking back into the room. But then he looks to her and tells her levelly. "There will be times in the future when you are in direct opposition to others, when there will be people who wish ill of you. You will need to use your gift then. You will just have to learn to build up your own judgement, and that will take years."     He takes a deep breath and knits his brow, "I think, in this case, your father was less displeased with you and more worried for your well being." John takes a sip of his brandy and then sets the glass aside on one of the lamp tables nearby, in a coaster of course. "My nature can be dangerous or disturbing for people to look into with their minds. It is good that you did not do so."     That having been said, the maid does pause for a moment, but then resumes in her cleaning. Yet it's clear she is paying attention to what is being said.
Psylocke	That earns another snort from her as she shifts, putting one foot on the floor but the other still draped over the arm of her chair. "You seem pretty normal to me. I don't know what could be in your mind that's dangerous. I've looked in a few so far and most of the time, it's boring stuff." She still has a lot to learn and much of it will be learned the hard way. Right now, she has that ten foot tall and bulletproof attitude tht is found in the young. They rarely can imagine something being dangerous enough to take their lives. Although she's had a few adventures, that still hasn't changed. It often comes with adulthood and the sense of mortality that comes with it.     She does glance over at the maid, brows tight as she wonders why the maid is paying such close attention to the conversation. With the thought comes the flare of pink but she shuts down the power immediately, remembering the words just spoken to her.
Ares	"Yes, well. Looks and all of that." John peers at her for a time, then seems about to say something else...     When her father returns and looks between the two of them, "Well, don't you two look comfy?" He smiles at each and nods, "Elizabeth, your mother awaits you in her parlour." He cocks an eyebrow and gestures slightly to the side, as if indicating that she should surely be along her way. Which she should.     To which John rises back to his feet to round back to her father and face him. Then gives a nod towards 'Betsy' as he steps back to stand near her father. "Until another time, Elizabeth." He offers with a smile as well, even as the older man reaches for the bottle to refill his glass with an idle tilt of the bottle to its side.
Psylocke	"Betsy." She pushes herself to her feet, giving them both a disgusted look. Here she though Mr. Aaron was cool but no, he's as bad as her parents. He did have some interesting things to say. She'll think about them more later. Right now, time to face the music with her mother.     She makes sure to stomp her feet on the way out, to give a good show of her grumpiness. "Seeya later," she says as she slips out