Owner	Pose
Spider-Man	"You spin me right round baby, right round, like a record baby.." Peter is at the school early, well before the sane are awake, probably early enough to suggest that he's not gone to sleep. The fact that his hair is damp and he's wearing athletics gear from the gymansium probably suggests this is where he showered after patrol. And nothing works up an apetite for bacon, eggs, and super cheesy grits like patrol. The pan with the eggs is given a wrist toss that flips them over, always sunny side. The music is from his cellphone laid on the counter nearby, playing the best version of this song... From the Wedding Singer, obviously. "All I know is that to me, you look like you're lost of fun. Open up your loving arms, watch out here I come.." Peter Parker can do a lot of things: He can jump twelve feet flat foot, he can walk on a balance beam half the size of his thumb, but he can. not. sing. Or cook.
Psylocke	<Please,> Betsy's mental voice enters Peter's mind as simply and clearly as if the door were open and she stepped right through, <I thought staying at the mansion would mean I could avoid your morning karaoke.> Her voice is heard well before she can appear. She steps into the room after giving him a suitable few seconds to wonder just what he was hearing and where it was coming from. When she does emerge, she is not /quite/ as poised as she normally is. For one, she's in pajamas. An oversized t-shirt that hangs off of her more like a drape with the stylized green grimace of the Hulk's angry face across the chest. It hangs low enough to leave the existence of a pair of shorts up to the imagination. Her hair is, startlingly enough, uncombed with a number of flyaway purple strands sticking in the air. She locks eyes with Peter, looking well and truly as though she just rolled out of bed. When she speaks, she actually speaks out loud: "Did you know when you sing, you sing in your head, too? And most people can at least carry a tune in their /thoughts/, Pete." She doesn't seem too mad, though. Just her usual morning grouchiness.
Spider-Man	Surprisingly, Peter doesn't take long to figure out what, if not who, has entered his mind. Mentalists have their own signature, whether people are aware of them or not, and Peter is quite familiar with Betsy's. More than anything though, it just kind of makes him a little sad. She can probably feel that drifting around in his off key mental singing like a weird fan in the crowd trying to catch the singers eyes on stage. Leaning out from behind some front row audience member like; Mmmm... notice me sempi. To compensate for what he knows he thought, he sings louder. "All I know is that to me, you look like you're lots of fun..." Flipping eggs in the air with another toss of his wrist, the other dealing with a rogue peice of bacon what tried to escape the confines of the pan. "You get back here..." He murmurs, glancing over his shoulder at the physical voice chiding his inability to carry a tune, even in his thoughts. "I'm never the hero of my own dreams either... I have issues, Betsy. I need therapy." It probably isnt' nearly as funny as he intended when telling HER of all people. "Sorry. I'll stop. You hungry? I made extra."
Psylocke	"Very," Betsy says with a nod, pulling herself up onto a stool and crossing her legs. Her own thoughts are tinged with a similar sadness, but she has the benefit of natural mental shielding that means even telepaths cannot read them without effort. She keeps it off her face though, looking instead tired and mildly abused by the notion of having to get up so early in the morning. "You don't have to tell me you need therapy," she yawns, waving a dismissive hand, "You punch criminals in your pajamas." She telekinetically pulls a plate from the cupboard, quietly grateful when it doesn't shatter under her less than surgical telekinetic ministrations, and places it on the counter before her. Yes, she is hungry.
Spider-Man	"You know words can hurt, right?" Peter does not seem hurt, only sad, and he's good at keeping that off his features. He's guilty literally every moment of every day, if he let that stuff slip on his face he would be a walking timebomb of ''are you okay'' hugs. Which, contrary to popular belief, he does not like. Touching. This is his mental shield, think about the most absurd things, like his love of late 90s pop music. Within a few minutes, Lisa Loeb - Stay is playing on repeat on the surface of his mind. And he's not sad anymore. "They're not pajamas, okay. For one, pajamas don't chafe as bad as the costume does." The floating plate just makes him giggle, clearly she is very hungry. Good for her that the bacon is done and the eggs aren't far behind. The grits are still thinking about it. He spoons some onto her plate and flicks a few pieces of bacon beside it. After a glance over his shoulder to make sure nobody is in the kitchen with them, Pete grabs hold of the edge of the counter and jump slides through the island opening onto a stool beside Betsy. "Coffee?" Pointing with the end of a eggy fork.
Psylocke	Betsy shakes her head at the offer of coffee, already tucking into breakfast. Peter may be the only person who has seen her talk with her mouth full of food since she was in grade school. There are certain things someone who attended an actual honest-to-goodness finishing school just won't do. But then, despite the way things went, she's still more comfortable around him than most people. So, when she speaks, it is through half-chewed eggs and bacon: "Doe drun ef neemo." She finishes the mouthful, rolling her eyes as though she can't believe her own impropriety: "I've sworn off coffee. The caffeine was giving me shocking headaches, and when you couple that with the overall mental din of the city I felt like my brain was about to split in two."
Spider-Man	A fact that use to be endlessly amusing as Peter is prone to speaking with his mouth full, most of that due to his inability to slow down for five seconds it would take to swallow first, but also because he doesn't even know where a finishing school is. The best he got was a smack in the back from Aunt May... it did not stick. When she does so now, it's still amusing, but not quite to the same extent. It reminds him of a different time, not long ago. While he does grin at the absurdity of it, it isn't nearly as bright as before. "I wouldn't know what to do with myself if it weren't for coffee. I feel, in these trying times, that we are given but one escape from our mortal dread. Mine is that moment of first sip of coffee." Chewing bacon back without his hands like a heathen who knows table manners like Amish know the newest release on Netflix. And so he pours himself coffee, to which he adds milk and a single spoonful of sugar. Might as well be black for as little as he adds to it. "I met Batman." He says quietly, side glancing. Somehow, despite all the teleapths at the school, he's managed to keep his other identity secret. At least to the general population of students and faculty, anyways, but he's never tried with Betsy. Why on Earth would he? "He told a knock knock joke, it was crazy." He did not do that at all. Small talk is surprisingly difficult.
Psylocke	"You didn't?!" The revelation about Batman actually prompts Betsy to stop eating her food, turning fully in her seat to face him. She looks genuinely stunned at that. "Tell me you didn't embarrass yourself," she says earnestly, like someone might react to news about a prospective job interview as a prestigious company, "He did ''not'' tell a knock knock joke. Batman tells knock knock jokes? Are you going to join the Justice League now?" The barrage of questions show genuine excitement on Betsy's behalf. It's not every day her friend gets to meet actual living (?) legends. Except if they're Captain America, but that's different. Doesn't the government, like, ''own'' him? Nobody owns Batman.
Spider-Man	"I did." Pete assures her with a side grin, picking at his eggs with his fork. "I was just out on patrol and I saw him looming in the shadows like a gargoyle.. but there's not really any gargoyles in New York, ya know? So I swung over and... I mean I probably did embarass myself." He isn't even bothered by the notion, not really. Embarassing himself is kind of perspective anyways. Spider-Man is... well he's kind of an embarassing hero by his existance. "Nah, no knock knock jokes. But he did this thing where he was... there.. then we turned around and poof-" Clapping on hand against his inner wrist, "-Just the flutter of wind. It was pretty dope. If he'd have walked into the wind like the crow movie?" There's a mock swoon, falling from his stool only by the fingers against the counter holding him in place when said stool comes up on, not two, but one leg for a second. To the question of the Justice League, "Nah.. it took me nine years to join the Avengers. I don't know if I'm good enough to join the League." Pointing in her direction with a stabbed glob of eggs on the end of his fork, "He barely said anything. And what he did say was simple... Had this look in his eyes like he knew what was going on before it ever happened to know what was going on."
Psylocke	"Weird," Betsy says, a little starstruck by proxy, "I've heard some stories but never, you know ? hey, I'm just glad you didn't end up trying to fight him. Strange guy lurking on rooftops in your neighborhood? You probably thought he was going to rob somebody." She has another mouthful of food, finishing it before speaking again: "And the Avengers are still a good get. I mean, Captain America? Tony Stark? Thor? ''Thor''! He's a literal god, Peter. You're on a team with an actual god from mythology. The very reason theology professors all over the world either killed themselves or had a joygasm when he showed up." A pause, before she offers: "He might be bragging that he met Spider-Man. Maybe he's a fan?"
Spider-Man	"I almost did..." Pete stresses that point, "You know me, I had to lead in with a joke, but... man, I was ''this'' close." Holding up his index finger and thumb barely seperated, "I thought he was Prowler. They have very similar costumes! So close.." he whistles quietly and picks at his eggs, "He would have probably smacked me around like a kid. He didn't move much, but those are the kind of people you have to watch the closest." Peter cannot ''fight''. Peter has never been able to fight. He's fast, he's agile, and he can predict things happening before they happen. This gives the illusion of being able to fight... and maybe he's gotten a lot better over the years, but he knows when someone absolutely CAN fight. And batman can. "I know.. Tony is. He's everybit as aloof as people say of him. Captain America, though? He's awesome. Just the nicest dude I've ever met." He's not even gushing, just stating facts. "I was actually at his birthday party before heading to Aunt Mays on the 4th... Haven't met Thor though." Shoveling food in his mouth in rapid succession. As for batman bragging about meeting HIM? "Nah, we both know that's unlikely."
Psylocke	"You never know," Betsy says with an enigmatic little smile. Doesn't hurt to bolster the old Spider-Confidence, given how prone it is to flagging at any and all given moments. The talk of Captain America prompts her to raise her eyebrows. She has something to add there, "I went to school with Janet Van Dyne." Cap's paramour, as she's sure Spidey knows given that he hasn't been living under a rock on Mars with his fingers in his ears for the past few months. "She was telling me about Cap. She said he liked her butt." That's about all she got to learn about him. "A birthday party, huh? Do you know who ''else'' has a birthday coming up?"
Spider-Man	"Aw shucks, Bets." Peter swats at her playfully, grinning despite the embarassment of someone trying to butter his biscuit. Obviously he knows he's a hero, people have said as much, but no matter how often he hears it he's yet to take it to heart. He does what he has to do. It's compulsive behavior at its finest example. "Mm.." Nodding at the revelation about she and Janet, "I've only ever met her in passing.. and then that one time in the park. She is a very scary woman, does she know that?" He has no comment on the quality of her butt, though. "I'm sure she's a fan of his too. Have you ''seen'' that thing? I'm not in the habit of checking anyone out, mostly a respect situation, but it's hard... and I have trouble not looking too." There's a play on words in there, swear. "Birthday coming up?" Another demure bite of egg, squinting. "Uhh me? Who else could it be?" Teasing of course. "Unless you don't mean you. In which case... uhh.. I have no idea."
Psylocke	"Yes, I mean me," Betsy says with mock indignation, shoving his shoulder with one hand while continuing to eat delicious breakfast foods with the other, "My birthday. Just because we're not ... " It slipped out and she feels bad for bringing it up. It was easy to forget for a moment, pretend as though the bad things never happened and they're just eating breakfast like they did a million times. But then she goes and says it without thinking. To her credit, she tries to move on in true 'Keep Calm and Carry On' fashion. "I still expect to be lavished with gifts befitting my rank and title."
Spider-Man	Peter was grinning until that little wrinkle in the fabric of conversation. To his credit, his expression on darkens, it does not disappear entirely beneath the weight of revelation and he returns the nudge of her shoulder with his own shoulder even once it has been thus revealed. "You know." He begins thoughtfully, "It has been my experience that birthdays are one of the most important days of the year." He murmurs in light of addressing the elephant that sat down in the room and draped its depressing trunk across their otherwise delightful breakfast. The fact that he feels thrice as guilty and second breakfasty as awkward aside, it's the first time they've sat down together in a month or more. His tongue draws a bit of hidden bacon from the back end of his teeth and it follows the coffee he's sipping down his throat where it belongs. "You probably have a hundred, a thousand people who will jockey for your attention come the fifth.. I assure you, though.. that somewhere out there I am busily putting together a brithday celebration like never you've seen on a meager teachers paycheck. You know what they pay me here?" Elbows on the counter, shaking his head in a whimsy, distant way. "It'll be gloriously celebratory, of that I can promise. I'm good at birthdays."
Psylocke	"I'm sure whatever it is, it'll be wonderful," Betsy answers, reaching out to pat him on the hand. "And I'm going to set aside time for whatever you've got planned, believe me. Those people jockeying for attention can jockey any day of the year. Just make sure you invite ... " She begins to count off on her fingers: "Janet. You'll have to invite Captain America, too. Anne-Marie although make sure she's got somewhere to get away from people since she needs space because of the whole no touchy thing. Kitty because I will ''not'' have a party without Katherine Pryde. Ororo. Maybe see if you can get in touch with Brian? Although I think he might be back home ... " She shrugs her shoulders, the last of her meal already finished off as she rises to her feet: "Do me a favour and take care of yourself, too, okay? That thing about not being the bartender at the party? That applies to more than just July 4 do's by the lake. You need to remember to live for Peter Parker sometimes."
Spider-Man	Peter is making a mental list, but he's pretty sure he would accurately pick who she would want there. Though some could be more complicated than others, "I'll do my best with Brian. Never really got the impression he was a huge fan of me, though.." Murmured, the last of his eggs are skewered with his fork in rapid succession and pushed into his mouth along with a full strip of bacon. That mush is swallowed with aid of his coffee, plates already being stacked along with mug atop it that he can carry them over to the sink with the pans used to cook it all. "I do..." Not. He do not. If he were honest, this is the first time he's not been in costume for longer than a handful of minutes SINCE July 4th... and he spent more time in it that day as out. "I... do my best, anyways." That's only partially a lie, so it's a step in the right direction. "It'll be easier when school's back in, I think. The summer is a bad time for New York. Heat makes people insane.." Motioning with a wiggling thumb, water running and soap added to at least clean the dishes enough not to clog the dish washer with food particulates.
Psylocke	It's clear that she wants to chide him for not taking a break. New York is full to bursting with hero types and that should mean that he can take a shift off every now and then. But she can't tell him not to do what he does, just like he couldn't tell her not to do what she does. That was the whole crux of what led them here, after all. Instead, she just smiles sadly and moves for the door. "Well, I'll talk to Ororo about a cool change, maybe." It's a lame joke. More forced than anything else to try and smooth things over. She wrinkles her nose a little and shakes her head, catching her reflection on the range hood and trying to smooth her hair down a bit. "I'll see you later?" That said, she steps out into the hall again and disappears.
Spider-Man	Sometimes, like just then maybe, Peter wishes she would. More to the point, he wishes he'd listen to her. Would happiness be so bad for a change? How long would it last before he felt so guilty he started doing it anyways? It's hard to know these things, but think about him does. Punishing himself for events that will never come to pass because just like he will always be Spider-Man, the hero who never takes a break, he'll always be Peter Parker, the man who never gives himself one. Despite the lameness of said joke, Peter snickers and starts loading the dishwasher. Careful not to leave anything behind less he lose his kitchen previlages... again. IT WAS ONE TIME OKAY "Of course you will." He says to an empty space. She's already gone by the time he glances up.. and rather than try to raise his voice or follow her out into the hallway, he leans against the counter with a dish rag laid over his shoulder. Hand running through his drying hair incesently. "Of course you will." He murmurs again and flips off the lights on his way out the back door to the yard.