Summary:The Rasputin siblings awkwardly talk about relationships. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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'In vain I hide my heart's fierce pain.'
- Aleksandr Sumarokov (1718-1777)
Distraction. Distraction is good for a soul. It allows one to gain perspective, to cleanse the mind. It allows one to try to find their center. And here, among the idyllistic mountains, the spring blossoms, the coming warm breeze that cuts across the granite - the way the sun is cutting across the granite, making the dark stone seem even darker.
But even here, Piotr finds himself distracted. As he has his sketchpad set up on the easel, the drawing has started to form - a sketch of the mountains, of the trees, of the granite. Even in all of that, however, one can make out the startings of a female form within the art - his mind is clearly distracted still from last night.
Sitting there in his human form, he's dressed in a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt with a black t-shirt beneath. His art supplies sit off to the side, and he's just staring at the canvas now, as if trying to figure it out.
Illyana Rasputina's arrivals aren't especially sneaky, but they're easy to overlook if there's good lighting. And one is distracted. A stepping disk opens off to Piotr's side, his much smaller and somehow older younger sister stepping out. She pauses, looking about at her brother's choice of setting. Herself, she looks quite out of place in the black-on-black attire trimmed in silver chains and spikes and skulls. Finally, she turns her attention back to her brother.
"« You're wearing a groove in your forehead, brot. »" Illyana says as she steps over towards him. "« What has you thinking so hard?»"
Right about this time, she's able to get a look at his sketchpad. Her brows rise upwards before she says simply: "Ah."
Piotr has had to get used to his sister's choice of attire. And that she has embraced her life so well - he knows she had little choice, but it still makes Piotr feel concerned. He's jostled by her arrival, but her use of their native tongue calms him and allows him to speak more freely on the matter, instead of having to fumble for words at times.
When he speaks, it's in fluent and easy Russian, as he reaches to give his sister's hand a squeeze. "She arrived at the school last night. And will be attending NYU. I had thought she was going to stay in England and finish her education." he admits, his eyes drifting over to Illyana in thought.
"When she was 14, I turned her away as a childhood fancy. At sixteen, it was because she needed to grow and not have.. a teenage crush. A weight that held her back from spreading her wings and taking flight." he says quietly as he glances at the page and lets out a breath.
"Now she.. I am not sure she even noticed me." he admits quietly. "She is beautiful, Illyana. More so than I could have imagined." Leaning back, and he sighs, causing that barrel chest to heave and press against the flannel.
Illyana Rasputina could wear something else but the dark, agressive attire comes easily when she conjures. Even when she tries for something more sedate, the underlying corruption of her magics tends to twist her intentions so she doesn't try much anymore. The other alternative would be to *buy* her clothing and well. She'd need a job or something for that.
The blonde sorceress doesn't get a lot of practice with her native Russian when Piotr's not around, and so her own has some American English accent to it these days but it's not too hard on the ears. "Mmm, she mentioned she was going to be getting in this week." Unlike Some People, Illyana has had some contact with her old roommate, mostly through text and email. Things that will wait patiently for Illyana to get to them. Piotr's final observation draws a bit of a chuckle. "So she didn't yell at you, or scowl or stomp off?" There's a chiding hint to her tone.
It takes several moments of thought for Piotr to replay the events in his mind. "She was your age, once. I.. it was uncomfortable." he admits as he frowns, then he's shaking his head. "No." comes Piotr's response. "I was not sure how to act towards her. I think, perhaps, she was saddened?" Blowing out his breath, the large Russian gives a little grumble in thought. Armor of steel, too bad it doesn't work on his heart.
"You cannot glue back together a broken cup." comes the old proverb. Sure you can, but the cup will always leak. And Piotr's pretty sure that Kitty's cup is well and broken. "I was happy to see her again, Illyana." There's a frown at that realization. "Even in abscence, I thought of her."
Not that she needs to be told that - Illyana was asked more than she cared about how Kitty was when Piotr was on his self-imposed exile in Russia.
Illyana Rasputina crosses her arms casually and leans a shoulder against Piotr's large frame. He makes a good substitute wall. It lets her be near him but not looking at him, since this is obviously a little uncomfortable for him. It gives an illusion of privacy. Instead, Illyana stares at Piotr's sketchpad. "If she's not screaming mad at you, I can almost promise she's still holding a candle for you. From what I've seen, women always have a thing for their first love." She herself wouldn't know because… well, she doesn't quite Get this whole romantic relationship thing.
The adage gets a snort from the blonde. "You can totally glue a cup back together. The Japanese do it with molten metal and make it into a whole artform."
Whether or not Illyana /meant/ to make the connection didn't matter. What matter was that Illyana points out to the man who is literally flesh made metal that his heart - that Kitty's heart - could be healed, and be stronger. There's an owlish blink from the massive older brother, and the blonde may feel her body shake from the soft chuckle that rises from Piotr.
"And I thought you paid no mind to the poetry I read you when I was young." he responds to her with a little smile that pulls on the corners of his mouth.
"Is it right for one to find a spark from a candle that may have burned too long, though? She said she needed to unload her things. I offered to help her, and she declined." Clearly, that means she's not interested, right? Because you know, take advantage of the free labor.
"Well the stories weren't putting me to sleep, but at least the poetry didn't keep me lying awake all night." Illyana replies dryly.
She didn't actually make the connection on purpose, and so Piotr's chuckle has her glancing over at him curiously. It takes her a moment and then she joins him, smirking a bit and lifts her shoulders in a shrug almost bashfully.
The question gets a thoughtful sigh. "I'm not a good one to ask about Time." She points out. Time is weird in Limbo. Hence her somehow being older than her older brother. Even on Earth, her sense of it is skewed. Minutes and hours don't mean much to her. She's pretty good with days because of the whole day/night cycle but that's about it. "Or, she doesn't want to end up with the contents of her underwear drawer spilling out in front of you. Or, she's afraid of being rebuffed again. I dunno. I haven't seen her yet." Illyana admits. "But don't read the end of the world into a moment. Endings should be big and splashy."
There's a pause at that. Something is on Piotr's mind. And he lets out a grunting sigh, setting his hands on his knees. "You will always be my snowflake, Illyana. Does Douglas.. make you happy?" he asks her, since they seem to be talking about endings and beginnings. "I would not want you to follow my example on this. I do not regret telling Katya no when I did." comes the honesty in it all. "She was .. is young. As young as you were. But now.. she is adult as well."
He looks back to the picture - one can see where Kitty's drawn in, or at least was starting to be. "..if it is something. If he is someone that pleases you." he shrugs. "I cannot stop you. I would not dare. Not because of what you can do. But I could not bear to break your heart as such." he explains. "But should I.. if she is still interested..?"
At Piotr's mention of Doug and if she 'makes her happy' Illyana makes a sound that's a cross between a groan and a snicker. "*I'm* not having a romantic relationship here. I told you, I don't quite get it. I watch shows, I've read books and I just… don't feel whatever it is that they, that you feel. The way someone fills your mind and makes you hurt inside or makes your pulse pound like you're fighting for your life." She gestures to the hint-of-Kitty on the paper. "He and the others I was with at Xavier's, I trust them. They're… mine, I guess." She breathes out a long sigh. "I'm not good at explaining."
The topic of Piotr and Kitty? She'd much rather give awkward advice on that front than try to explain her own relationships. "She was too young. Hell, she's still *young*, yeah. But she's had some time on her own and it's not like she's ever gonna catch up to you unless I drag her off to hell for half a decade." Illyana adds dryly.
The blonde leans her head until it rests against Piotr's. If you still want something, and she still wants…" She shrugs. "Why not see if it's something real?"