Summary:Nate gets a drink and Betsy joins him. They meet and Betsy informs Nate about Charles Xavier and the School For Gifted Youngsters. Log Info:Storyteller: N/A |
Related LogsTheme Songn/a |
  |
PM Gotta love a good bar!
Nate Grey had only arrived in this timeline days ago, but one thing was very clear: this place had much better drinks than from where he's from. Though the guy clearly isn't out of place. Leather jacket, leather pants, leather boots…and somehow shirtless to show off a strong physique.
The only thing weird about him is the X-tattoo on his pectoral that is eerily similar to the X-Men. either nobody has noticed or they think its some cool motif for artistic inspiration. Or he's a mutant.
Nate orders a bourbon and once it arrives, he starts sucking it down. "Okay…I'm getting attached to this place." Nate speaks with a tone of cheer, but this modern world had a lot more to offer than just drinks…
PM Betsy Braddock has just landed back in town after several exotic shoots around the world. She hasn't even called Westchester yet, before she's hit the streets for a slice of real pizza, and now for the booze. Since this bar is down the street from one of her favorite pizza joints, this is where she stops in. Now that she's not surrounded by models and photogs who would judge, she's going to indulge a bit.
Purple hair is loose in long waves over the shoulders of her dove gray leather jacket over an old Clash tshirt that's been well loved to soft and clingy, with dark wash jeans, and gray boots - no heel, she's tall enough without them in 'real life'. She will strut her way in like she owns the place, that walk and confident projection still in full force from her work. There's a dazzling smile at the barkeep, before she orders a Maker's Mark, neat, if he pleases.
PM See, this is what's weird about the world.
People who probably legitimately do not fit into the ambiance of the place show up, and they make it look significantly better! Like this chick. Nate turns his head ever so much to see Betsy strutting her stuff and he raises a brow. "What is a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He asks with curiosity on his features because uh…she looks like she should be on the red carpet right now, not in this dump.
PM If Nate things she looks posh and polished now, the poor man is in need of a shock. A forearm against the bar, a long lean as violet eyes shift over to Nate. The head to toe scrutiny leads to a lifted brow at the lack of a shirt. "I do belive I'm ordering a drink." There's the accent, that upper class British crispness, cool and frosty in contrast with the blazing smile. "I do have to ask.. what happened to your shirt, darling?"
PM Nate looks at Betsy with a lifted brow. "Well, good for you." though the comment on his lack of shirt doesn't seem to get a reaction out of Nate that would imply that it wasn't on purpose. "Don't need one. Otherwise, I overheat easy and people don't like sweaty people." which is his excuse that is to say he doesn't have any cash to actually own a shirt. On the bright side, the view is nice.
"Though uh…why you comment on my lack of shirt when you show up looking like you own the block?" he teases.
PM She laughs, sliding money across the bar as her drink arrives. She will lift it for a sip and swallow, those violet eyes watching him. "Well, if you're sweaty for the right reasons, I think people overlook it." She can't help the smirk at that as she suppresses a laugh. She just moves and leans against the bar with a hip. "Well, your lack of a shirt is a bit unusual this time of year, even in this neighborhood. And no, darling, I don't own the block. I just present that way."
Her hand will extend, pale, soft, slender, nails done a soft rose shade. "Betsy. And you are?"
PM Nate seems to roll his eyes lightly. "Suuure you don't." clearly he doesn't believeh er. If she told him she was very wealthy, he'd believe her. But the hand offered to him is not neglected. He reaches out, and wraps his hand around hers, giving it a firm shake and squeeze. "Nate. Nice to meet you, Betsy." he drinks some more of his bourbon after releasing her hand. "So, where ya from, Betsy?"
PM "I'm British love, not American. I don't dabble in risky real estate." Her hand, though pampered, is not weak when it comes to the shake and squeeze. He may even feel some callouses at the base of her fingers. "Pleasure's all mine, Nate." There is a faint lift of brows. "Britain, relocated here several years ago, dual citizen, so on and so forth." There is a wave of her hand to dismiss it, as she sees that tattoo.
She will pause, frozen for just a moment. "That's an interesting tattoo. I'm familiar with a very similar symbol. "
PM "Well, good to know. Never been." Nate grins lightly. He did notice teh callouses, but any kind of physical activity involving the hands could give calluses. Playing a guitar, swordfighting, hand to hand…so he doesn't immediately assume that she's a badass in some form or another, but a suspicion is there.
He also doesn't even TRY to dig through her mind. Not without cause.
"Yeah, what about it?" Nate seems to partially turn his body to hide his genetic brand. "And what symbol would that be?" he knows who the X-Men are. In his future, they're legendary, and a few still remained to fight back against the powers that wwould be.
PM Well, he'd have a hard time doing that, even if he tried. And that would be bad for the bar, no doubt, especially since she's nothing but friendly! She smiles, taking her time by sipping some bourbon. "Oh, it's the symbol for a school I know of, north of the city. Sort of their branding, at Xavier's." Violet eyes are on his face, curious to his reaction. "It's for gifted kids."
PM Nate is a omega-level telepath of among the highest order. Even Betsy would have a hard time keeping him out if he REALLY wanted that information. But that is neither here or there. Regardless, Nate makes no reaction, simply shrugging his shoulders. "Must be a coincidence." clearly he's not going to trust a total stranger with the sensitive information that he's not from around here, not by a long shot. But, maybe someday. "But, good to know there's something out there for special people."
PM
There's a tilt of her head, a faint smile. "I don't much believe in coincidence any more. So tell me, Nate… where are you from?" She asks politely, sipping neatly at her bourbon as if it was fine champagne. She will gesture to the bartender for more drinks, one for him as well as for herself. "What is it you do, here in the city?"
PM Nate looks her in the eyes. "Nowhere." Nate replies with conviction in his tone. Nope, she's not gonna get it out of him that easy. As for what he does, well…Nate makes up something on the fly. "Psychology student." Sure, Nate…sure. atl east you tried. "Might attempt to be a scholar or a professor one of these days.
PM "Nowhere, hmm? The one in Nevada?" She will tease, as there is a Nowhere Nevada! She tosses back the rest of her bourbon so she's ready when her refill shows up. She's casually intrigued, a hint of a smile. "My friend Jean is studying that too. At Empire State. Seems a popular major." The smile widens, brightening. "Professors are such interesting people." At least her favorite one is!
PM "Yep, the one in good ole Nevada." Nate just found it easier to just agree and let hte plan work itself out. So far, he was doing pretty good! aside from a curious lack of shirt and the X-Brand on his chest. "Oh really? She must be smart." because Psychology can be hard if you don't have an inkling towards knowing how the mind works! "I wouldn't call them interesting." his archnemesis, Mr. Sinister, was a professor! his experiences with them so far is poor.
PM "You're cute for a liar." She smirks, sipping more bourbon as she glances around the bar. "She is. She's very, very gifted. Interesting woman." She arches a brow. "See, I had one that literally changed my life. Completely made me a different person. " There is some mirth that just beams out of her eyes, a faint flush along her cheeks.
PM Nate rolls his eyes. Plan fail! But, are looks at her as she speaks about this…Professor that changed her life. Literally. "Yeah? Who's that?" he already pulled the pin on the grenade. Might as well go down the rabbit hole.
PM "Professor Xavier. He completely helped me remake myself, after some… odd moments in my life." If being kidnapped, brain washed, body swapped, and taught to be a ninja could be summed up as odd moments. "I really needed to get back to myself. He helped me do that." All true, and none of it specific. "He's the Headmaster at the school I was talking about. "
PM "Professor Xavier huh?" The man is a legend in Nate's time. Maybe he'll have to stop by and see what this guy was REALLY about, and not what history books tell him. "Headmaster too? Hm. Well, maybe I'll go and see him. See if that's true." Maybe someone to see if his telepathy is still up to par with.
PM Betsy Braddock arches an eyebrow. "If you want to see him, you should probably give fair warning. Have someone meet you. The security there is pretty tight. Top notch stuff like most people have never seen." Violet eyes are curiously suspicious now. "Not to mention he's pretty busy, running a school, with a college class annex, and finding the best and brightest for his enrollees." Then she does it. Just the most gentle reach and touch of one mind to another. She's just…checking, not trying to pile drive or intrude.
PM Nate keeps Betsy in his peripheral. Her 'poke' is welcomed, though anything more than that and she would quite literally be forced out. Nate was ready, and he was no meager mental mutant. "Well, nothing like I haven't seen before. I'm not worried about security. I'm more worried about if he'll give me the time of day."
PM Betsy Braddock sips at her whiskey, another glance around. There's a faint warming to her expression, her curiousity at least a little sated. "Oh? We have quite the array of strategies and more, for security." She will blink, her face going curious and concerned. "Why wouldn't he? He's always… Let's just say people like us, are the people he wants to help."
PM Nate finishes off his Bourbon as he rises to his feet, his hands going into his jacket pockets. "Yeah, well…we'll see." Nate gives an upnod to Betsy. "I have to go. It was nice meeting you though, Betsy. Maybe I'll see you later." he starts to walk off, heading for the exit, and will continue to leave unless stopped.
PM "Nate. Let me give you some contact stuff. I can make sure the Professor meets with you. If you really want to meet the man." She will offer, before finishing off her drink. She will slide more money for a tip onto the bar, pushing off her lean to stand straight, watching him
PM Nate pauses in his step and he sighs lightly, closing his eyes, before his head turns to Betsy, his body following suit as he looks at her. "Fine." then he takes a breath, not used to having…well, help. "Thank you."
PM "Least I could do, for someone clearly new to the neighborhood." She smiles, as she makes sure he has a phone number for her, and a generic one at the school. "I'll try to call ahead to the school, to tell them to expect a call. Scott should be around, somewhere. I haven't been there in a while. Been away with work."