thisavrou_log | And saves me from myself at times of envy

[He’s finds her late, on her way back from somewhere that they both know he won’t ask about. He pauses when he catches her in the halls, on his way back from Wanda’s room which they both know she’ll probably tease him about. It’s comfortable to Peter in its familiarity. ]

You look nice.

[He’s being quiet because they’re so close to the other’s bedrooms, gentle just because it’s her. Peter smiles, lets his gaze linger over her.]

Tired? We could hang out, if you’re not.

[Late is relative term. It's past the midnight and most of people have already withdrawn inside to their bedrooms to settle for night -- or at least try to. It sometimes felt like the mansion never really did sleep. For J, however, the night had only begun and she was there to drop by only briefly to change her shoes that had unfortunately broken.

Despite her steps being light and soundless she's still not surprised to see that Peter finds her. He always does, and at this point she's not thinking it's because of his powers.]

Hardly. [She answers to his question, voice soft and silent just like these. She lifts the broken heels in her hand, bringing them into his view.] I just had little wardrobe malfunction. Came here to fix that and then head back out.

[There's a small, satisfied pause as she looks him up and down.] Unless you got something else in your mind.

Went a little wild dancing? And now you're out a pair of heels.

[At least it gives him an idea of what to buy if he's feeling like getting a gift. Even if he doubts he could match her taste.

He smiles warmly, playfully, glancing back towards her door.]

Whatever you were doing must not be very important if you'll abandon it for me. [He doesn't want to tempt fate by saying he must be important for her to abandon plans.] All I've got in mind is a mostly quiet night in, if you're interesting. You won't need those.

[He gestures to the heels.]

Maybe not anything else, either.

Something like that. [Or them getting stuck in the pavement. Details aren't important.]

What can I say? I do love mysteries

[But maybe there is some truth to his suspects. She's only teasing him as she pulls a thoughtful expression, like she's really weighting the pros and cons in her mind. She already decided her answer when Peter swam to her sight.]

Now, what could that quiet be that doesn't require heels. Sure makes a girl wonder.

.

I guess I'll have to be more mysterious.

[He starts backing up toward her room, holding a hand out for her.]

I could just be asking you to come sleep with me, you know.

[Which he would do, if she asked. He thinks he'd like it, waking up with her any morning. Every morning. Maybe it's the late hour making him sentimental.]

Come spent the night with me J.

I think I could live with that option, too.

[She says after faking a surprised and scandalized face, which she believes him to get as a joke. His inexperience and self-doubt are nothing new, even if she'd hope to see the latter less, J wants to believe he knows her well enough now to tell difference between tease and hurt. It shouldn't be the same as it was in the beginning when Peter was nervous about every step. ]

Well, when you say it like that I can't say no. You're my favorite fan, after all. [J places her free hand into his and steps inside her room.]

[It takes time to get over himself enough for admit Peter needs to straighten things out with Jean. He's still upset, he doesn't think he'll ever consider what she did right by any means. But feeling justified and feeling angry are two different beasts. It's Wanda, without even saying anything, that convinces him it's time to bury the hatchet.

He'd done his own share of stupid things thinking he was keeping someone safe. Peter knows intimately what it's like to be punished for those decisions. It's not something he needs to keep subjecting Jean to.

It's why he ends up at her door, late one evening after dinner. He has the goggles from his future uniform in his hands and nervousness in his eyes. He knocks only once and rushes to get out the first words as the door opens, worried she might shut it back in his face.]

Do you have time to talk?

[ After knowing Peter for as long as she has now and seen his grudge-bearing ways, Jean doesn't expect to make up with him anytime soon. She made it a point to try and avoid him as much as she could for the weeks after the fight. Feeling upset but not all that guilty. Not really. She doesn't feel like she could've done it any differently when Peter had hated Erik from the outset. She hadn't wanted to upset him further or take his own choice away in being involved with Erik (or not).

All that in mind, she is very surprised to feel him at her door.

She opens her mouth and then the words follow after a nod. ]

Yeah.

[ She's stunned and it feels awkward to step aside and let him in after all this time she's spent avoiding him -- and knowing he's been avoiding her. Her eyes stay on the floor as she lets the door close after he's inside. It feels familiar to how things went so bad last time and she's unsure of what's coming next. ]

[Even if it had only been a short time since they stayed here during his fit against the other X-Men, Peter has to admit he loves visiting River’s ship. He misses her and he knows Wanda does to, and it’s in part why he always waits for his sister before dropping in. It feels like the sort of thing that’s meant to be shared between them, kept in the circle of the little family they’d created on the ship.

He listens more than watches Wanda move around the ship, sprawled out in the captain’s seat with his old silver jacket in his lap. With River gone the ownership technically fell back to him, but it felt wrong to wear it now and he’d left it here since. Still, he always messes with it when he comes by, checking pockets and fiddling with the buttons out of a nervous habit.]

We should take this somewhere. Do something crazy.

[He’s talking idly, passing time till Wanda settles down.]

[Wanda drifts to the copilot's seat. It's really, really weird being here without River. She keeps half-expecting her to just materialize out of thin air or pop out of a corner and laugh at them for falling for her trick and really believing she was gone.

But the reality is that most of their little family-away-from-home is gone and they're the only ones left. Wanda's so glad Peter is here with her, too - she's not sure how she would have gotten through all of this on her own.

One of the little plastic dinosaurs has fallen over since they were last here and Wanda rights it with a flick of her fingers and thread of scarlet. Much better.]

I wish we could take it to Aueia. The views would be better.

[Look, she just really likes that planet, okay?]

[He tilts his head back against the seat to watch her, giving a fleeting grin at the little display of power. And her request. Someone was impressed with the whales.]

We could always beg for them to let us take it through. Or sneak it along in those storage things we got from the ship. I still got mine lost somewhere in my room.

[Probably sacrificed to a pile of clothes by now.]

If it fits in a pocket, it is technically a small ship. I am allowed to bring those.

[Wanda grins, fishing around in her bag for wherever she's left the pac-disc - look, you never know when you're going to need the survival gear or climbing materials or any of the other collection of not immediately useful things she's left in there. River's ship isn't huge, but it's not just a personal transporter either.]

Hey, there we go. You shrink her down, carry her in and we'll be seeing those whales up close.

[He leans forward in the chair, wiggling his eyebrows and grabbing her hand.]

Come on, what do you say? Come break the rules with Wanda.

[Don't look at her like that, Peter. You know she can't take much of that face.

Wanda sighs.]

You know, they would probably let us bring it the normal way.

[But from her tone, he can probably get her to give in without much effort.]

Edited 2017-05-13 23:35 (UTC)

[Finding Rinzler takes a surprising amount of time, even for someone with Peter’s powers. Maybe it’s not so surprising. Peter’s certainly got his problems with hubris and already proven to be terrible in the art of apology. Maybe he didn’t let himself look as hard as he should, maybe he let himself cut his time short in favor of other things and other people. In the end, his reluctance really didn’t matter.

Fate always had a way of intervening.

They both ended up at the En-Line station at the same, too close for Peter to pretend that Rinzler couldn’t have seen him. He’d made a promise with himself to clear the air and he knew he’d be weird about it if he let the opportunity go now.

He walks up to Rinzler slowly, hands out of his pockets to show he wasn’t carrying any weapons. Peter tries to look non-threatening; the last thing he wants now is another fight.]

I want to talk to you. About before.

[Rinzler isn't looking for this user, but his presence is a far too regular hazard to overlook. The enforcer's used to tracking the blurred, flitting motions, used to flagging the signature, even in periphery, in case of an attack. The only one in recent memory was more puzzling than dangerous, but as close as it had come to breaking him before, he isn't inclined to turn his back.

It makes the frontal approach all the more confusing. Noise ticks out in a clipped, staccato rhythm, a fluid, easy readiness sloping down Rinzler's shoulders at the approach. But there are no weapons. No taunts (not yet), in words or in configuration. No allies coming up behind—at least, none that his scans detect. If it is a trap, it's remarkably subtle. And if it's not... presumably, the user has a reason.

A good one, he hopes. The faceless stare fixes, flat and impassive for a beat before Rinzler slants his helmet a fraction to one side. Before?]

[He hesitates a few seconds, hands still raised. He wouldn't be surprised if Rinzler attacked, considering what Peter did the last time one could even make the argument he'd deserve it. And it's not like it had ever taken much to inspire blows between them.

But Rinzler isn't reaching yet for weapons and Peter thinks he might be in the clear. At least for now.

He lowers his hands, crossing and uncrossing his arms while he buys a second more to gather his words. He knows he has to do this, if only for his own conscious, but that doesn't make him prepared.]

Some stuff happened the other day, when I tried to make you fight me. I just, uh, thought we should talk about that. The fighting you part.

[He runs a hand through his hair, looking everywhere but at Rinzler's face plate.]

I goaded you into it.

[The user doesn't speak, not straight away. Still, neither does Rinzler, and the configuration isn't hard to match. Not the eager aggression of their last encounter, or the sneering, gleeful taunts when it had hunted him before. Slower. Hesitant. Avoidant, for all the user's approach. Like the encounter in the cave. If past experience is any sign, the confusion isn't anything like done.

Eventually, the user speaks. Rinzler waits, and Rinzler listens, and Rinzler decides (aver several loops of iteration) that Peter_Maximoff probably isn't mocking him with the word 'talk'. The coiled tension to his shoulders doesn't leave, but Rinzler's hands stay at his sides, helmet inclining a fraction in return.

Of course the user goaded him into the fight. That had never been in question. Only what he hoped to gain, and that, Rinzler suspects, he'll be finding out now. Some sort of punishment? A threat he could use? Nonverbals don't match, but the user had faltered before its kill before.

Only one way to learn. The program doesn't move, but the sense of inspection sharpens. Waiting for more.]

[This, Peter thinks, would be far easier if Rinzler spoke back. He sighs, tugging briefly at the ends of his hair. Explaining why he'd done what he had might be even harder than trying to apologize in the first place. There's no way to tell Rinzler about Erik, not only because he doesn't want anyone to know yet but because it's still too raw to think about.

But not talking about Erik doesn't exactly explain things.]

I wasn't- [He jams his hands into his pockets, frowning.] You were just there. I wasn't looking for you, that day. I didn't go out looking for you to fight. I mean, yeah to fight. But not you, in particular.

[Not him. Not in particular. It's a strange claim, and not one that makes an excess of sense—except that the alternative made even less. Why target him without a weapon? Why look for leverage if the user wasn't coming to apply it now?

It draws Rinzler's attention, if nothing else. Fingers twitch a fraction towards his TAB before stilling. He doesn't need it. (He doesn't want to use it, not around this user, not if there's no need.) The opaque shell angles further, instead, a pitched, sideways gradient of inquiry. It shouldn't be too hard to interpret.

Then why?]

[He's trying not to squirm. Rinzler's silence is unnerving even at the best of times.]

Look, I just wanted a fight that day. I was- [Upset. Devastated. Hurt.] -angry. I saw you before anyone else. I knew you'd fight, if I pushed it.

[It sounds so childish to put it into words. He's not sure what the feeling is that wells in his stomach. Shame, maybe.]

I took it out on you. But maybe I shouldn't have. I wasn't thinking about what I was doing, what I could start again. And I don't want to start another round of us attacking each other all the time. I said I was done trying to mess with you; I meant that at the time. And now, too.

[Funny. From what Rinzler recalls, it was him 'talking' that this user objected to, back when this had all started. 'Freaky' text. 'Stop it!' Is a user-year and change a long time to nurse a grudge? Absolutely, but that doesn't mean that Rinzler won't.

Still, not over the things this user seems to think.

He listens without much reaction. As suspicious as Rinzler is, as low as his expectations for this glitch in particular, they're passing the threshold of a useful lie by a wide margin. Peter_Maximoff is dangerous for his speed. For his allies, and his willingness to reach out to new ones for the cause of punishing a lesser being. Of making sure the program ('tool') in question would never be capable of posing a threat to him or his again.

Peter_Maximoff is dangerous. But he's never shown this much facility with lies.

Fingers twitch again... and, after a beat, complete their reach, calling up Rinzler's usual holographic text display. Noise grinds out a little harsher, warning and anticipation both, but this is too important not to clarify, no matter how it leaves him open.]

Not going to return attack.

[It's a small relief, it's a huge weight off his mind. He wasn't aware until Rinzler said so just how much Peter needed this place to be better. He couldn't afford more fighting, upsetting Wanda again or risking their place in the mansion. It eases one worry, lets him put his whole focus onto bigger problems.

Except, well. He doesn't really deserve it does he? Just like Rinzler didn't deserve the attack.

Someday he's really got to get back at all the people in his life that insisted he grow a conscious.]

Thanks.

[It comes out stiff, a little too quiet. One of those things Peter never thought he'd hear himself saying. He looks a little green for having said it now.

But somewhere deep down, he means it. Rinzler could fight back. Most people would see him as justified to do so. Peter knows this is a stroke of luck. Or a sign of maturity between them.]

I don't think it will happen again. [He rushes to cover up his gratitude, stumbling over his words.] It was a one time. Freak accident.

[Thanks. It's not the sneer he'd half-expected, though the user still looks like a gridbug choking on contaminated power. Rinzler's not sure he finds the sentiment any more palatable. He's not stupid. He knows how the users here would interpret any fight—what had resulted in the last system, and what these admins would doubtless be just as quick to apply here. He's a little surprised it hasn't happened already.

It would be better not to ask. Rinzler isn't stupid, but if Peter_Maximoff really doesn't know his own advantage, there's no reason to change that. No reason to let him question. But Rinzler's a little curious, and a lot bored, and just an edge too resentful to satisfy himself with I don't thinks.]

Not going to report me?

[Me.]

[The planet is big enough that it’s harder to run into people in the way they had on the ship. He’s rarely had to see anyone he didn’t want to since he moved into the mansion- Erik notwithstanding- and so it catches him by surprise to end up in the same shopping isle as Alan. It’s more awkward here too than it had ever felt on the ship. He was used to talking to Alan only out of anger and Peter found it hard to muster up that feeling for anyone outside of blood relations these days. Without the teenage indignation, Peter’s just left with the nagging reminder of what an asshole he’s been. That’s only magnified by the awkward conversation he had with Rinzler only a few days before.]

Hey.

[He keeps his tone quiet, staring at the products on the shelves rather than catch Alan’s eye. He wonders if Alan knows about the last fight he had with Rinzler and will feel the need to lecture him again. ]

[Alan notices Peter about the same time the he notices him. He does his best to act like he hasn’t recognized him yet. This isn’t the place for another argument and at this point, an argument is the only conversation he expects to have with Peter. Even when the teenager had admitted fault the last time they had spoken, somehow, they had both managed to fall right back into quarreling. It can hardly be helped, Alan thinks, given what had happened on the ship. They’re memories Alan would gladly put behind him, if he could, and he assumes Peter feels the same way.

Which is why it’s a surprise when Peter greets him first. Alan looks over carefully, half-wondering if he had been speaking to someone else, perhaps to someone via his TAB. But a quick glance is enough to see that there’s no one else Peter could be speaking to.]

Hello, Peter. [Said just as quietly, though still watching the teenager out of the corner of his eye. It could be that Peter is just trying to avoid coming off as hostile. It could also be the prelude to yet another clash. He suspects it’s the former, but if Peter does have something more to say to him, he’s going to listen. Given Peter's history with Rinzler, keeping tabs is an unfortunate necessity—even if Alan himself might not like what he hears.]

[Maybe it would be fine to leave it at that. A cordial greeting when out shopping, distant and marginally better than the rude way they usually went. He doubts anyone would think less of him for that.]

How-

[He starts, stops. It sounds too weird, these bland pleasantries. There'd been little pleasant between them before, a fault almost entirely to blame on Peter. He frowns, grabs something at random from the shelf and pretends to read the back of the box.]

Have you spoken to Rinzler lately?

[At least that sounds more realistic, making the conversation center on the obsession that had lead Peter to know Alan in the first place. It could almost sound friendly, from the light tone Peter takes, if it weren't such a loaded subject.]

[Alan stiffens at the question, though it doesn’t come as a complete surprise. If Peter wanted to talk to him, Alan expected it would be about Rinzler. Whether it’s about some new incident or merely picking at old wounds, Alan isn’t sure.]

I have, actually.

[Was there something Alan should know from that conversation, something Rinzler should have reported? Rinzler had made no mention of Peter, but then, he hadn’t after their encounter at the collective either—

Alan stops that train of thought before he gets ahead of himself. There’s no point fretting over hypotheticals when he can get answers himself.]

Why do you ask?

[Rinzler had to have kept quiet. Peter imagines Alan wouldn't be so cordial if Rinzler had mentioned the ill fated attack. Or maybe Rinzler also told about the half-assed apology and Alan's letting Peter save face.

That seems even more unlikely. After how they'd left things before, he can't imagine why Alan would be giving him a break.]

We fought again.

[Peter sighs.]

It was my fault. I just thought he would have said something to you.

[The news shouldn’t surprise Alan, but it does. So too does Peter’s admission of blame. He doesn’t know what possible motivation Peter could have had to renew his feud with Rinzler—and he wouldn’t have expected him to admit it so freely if he had.]

This may come as a surprise to you, but he doesn’t tend to tell me about his fights. [The words are pointed. The first time Alan had found out about Rinzler's "fights," things hadn’t ended well. For the program or for him]

I thought you two agreed to stay away from each other last time. [’You said you wouldn’t go after him again,’ Alan doesn’t say. He doesn’t know the full story, as little as he expects there to be justification there either.] What happened?

[He finds Erik down in the training room. Peter had been looking for Lorna; he knew she took this sort of thing far more seriously than he ever had. It's not exactly a shock to see Erik instead-they all live under the same roof, even Peter couldn't avoid him forever- but it's still awkward.

Peter has no idea what he's supposed to say to his father now that things are out in the open.

He considers running, just as he has every time the two have been alone in a room together. But if he can try to patch things up with Jean and Rinzler, he can try having a civil conversation with his own blood. Try, of course.]

Have you seen Lorna?

[That's a safe topic, right?]

[He hasn't pressed the issue when he's noticed Peter changing course around him; he doesn't really have much idea of what to say either. He wouldn't say though that he wishes Peter hadn't told him. He just doesn't know what to do about it now that he knows.]

Not today.

[They have had a few chats since her arrival, but they both have their own lives to lead separately too.]

[He glances around the room, almost like he expects her to pop up out of thin air and save him from the situation. But of course she won't. He'd have to call Wanda if he wanted that.]

Oh. I thought you two had been, you know, training or whatever. Doing metal stuff.

[He winces. Metal stuff. Smooth Peter.]

We have. [They each know tricks the other doesn't, after all, and there's really no one who understands powers like someone else who has the same ones.] It's not all we do.

Oh.

[He doesn't know how he feels about that. But, as far as he knows, Lorna's known who her dad was for a long time. She's probably used to him, probably knows how to keep things from being awkward. Not something Peter's learned yet.]

Like what?

It was her suggestion.

[Just in case Peter's feeling left out or something. Which he doubts, honestly, but he feels the need to say something.]

Nothing in particular. We've seen each other around. She mentioned something about wanting to teach some classes at the school.

[It really shouldn't be so hard to find people in the mansion, given his abilities. It still takes far too much of the afternoon to track down the bluest of his housemates, leaving Peter a little frustrated.

By the time he finally finds Kurt, it's obvious why. Can't find someone in the house when they ran off outside.]

Climbing up a tree? Really? I thought you were more an elf than a cat.

[Peter stands underneath the tree's shade, staring up into the branches.]

Get down here dude. We're hanging out. No arguments.

[Usually, Kurt prefers the comfort of the library or his room when reading, but the weather has been cooler and something tells him he needs to take advantage of it before the storm disturbs that again.

He's propped against the base of the trunk, legs stretched out along one of the thick branches, tail absently swinging to and fro. Every now and then, the spade brushes across some of the pink foliage, knocking a few of them loose, allowing them to drift to the ground below.

The sound of a familiar voice draws him from his book, brilliant golden eyes blinking thoughtfully before he turns to look down at the speedster.]

I think I'm only an elf because of my ears. I'm far more cat-like when it comes to personality.

[He flashes a grin, shuts the book and sets it aside, easily getting to his feet then leaping to a limb that's lower. Kurt shakes his head to loosen some of the petals that happened to get caught in the length of his bangs.]

Can I at least ask what we're doing? [inquires the blue boy, stepping back and off his spot entirely, both hands shooting up to grip the limb so he's dangling in front of Peter, feet playfully swinging back and forth.]

[He rubs the back of his neck as he peers up through the leaves, watching Kurt move around.]

Naw. Cats are all stuck up and, like, randomly claw people. And I'm pretty sure you aren't distracted by string.

[Peter bats at some of the falling petals, brushing off his outfit like it's something more important than just some grey t-shirt. He's tempted to start batting at Kurt too.]

Nope. [He grins, shakes his head.] We're going into civilization, getting coffee. Or maybe lunch. We'll figure it out when we get there, I just want something sweet.

[His legs kick a few more times then he finally releases his grip, dropping to the ground below, yet landing easily on his feet in front of his fellow mutant.]

The cat I have isn't stuck up. She's always pining for attention and throws a tantrum like a toddler if you deny her. [A snicker.] Depends on the string, I would say.

[He wouldn't complain; Kurt's pretty sure he's gotten all the flowers off his white button-up, but it's not like he can see the top of his head or his back all that well, so ...]

Ach, [he complains, slumping his shoulders and briefly hanging his head in defeat before perking right back up at the mention of 'sweet.'] The place where I go to get drinks has lots of sugary things.

Maybe she thinks she's a dog. That's why she wants attention.

[He shrugs and reaches over to pick petals off Kurt. He turns the touch quickly to clapping Kurt over the shoulder.]

Yeah? And where's that? Think you could- [He wiggles his fingers, trying to indicate teleportation.]

Aw, that would be cute. Maybe I could teach her to fetch things and sit.

[His eyebrows lift in partial surprise at the brush, although those fangs gleam once more in another easy grin when Peter thumps him on the shoulder.]

Region One. [He notes the gesture of Peter's fingers, smirk widening and his head nodding.] Easy peasy!

[Reaching one hand up, Kurt gingerly takes hold of his friend's forearm and shuts his eyes. It only takes a couple of minutes, a few quick displacements before they're outside the coffee shop's exterior. He does the courteous thing by waiting at Peter's side until he's sure the speedster isn't nauseous or too disoriented from the teleporting before leading the both of them inside by the amiable hold he still has on the other male's arm.]

And saves me from myself at times of envy

J

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Jean

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Wanda

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Rinzler

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Sorry for the slow!

Alan

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Erik

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Kurt

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