Summary:Illyana and Mikhail have barely met, so they talk a bit. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Hot town, summer in the city. The sun is high and there's only a few scattered clouds. It's also humid. Mikhail walks in from the back yard, wearing a pair of shorts. His shoulder is still bandaged but he's forgone the sling, undoubtedly before the doctor told him he should. In the kitche, he pours a glass of water and loads it with ice from the freezer.
A two-dimensional disk of light opens in the middle of the living room. About six foot in diameter most of the house is used to the portals being Illyana's preferred method of getting around and sure enough, the blonde steps through a moment later. Her stride catches as she spots Mikhail across the open floor plan, and then slowly resumes her forward momentum towards him. "You're looking better."
Illyana's wardrobe leans towards black and leather with some silver accents. Leather, despite the heat of the weather. Long pants lead to knee-high boots with heavy soles and skull-shaped buckles that march up the sides. A top with lacing that runs up two sides from the hem to her shoulders. She has a few rings, spiked bracelets. The look is a lot metal and a little goth.
Mikhail Rasputin turns as soon as the portal forms, being able to sense the energy it uses to cross the dimensions. He watches silently as Illyana appears, not knowing what to make of this sister he didn't know existed. Their parents would be scandalized if they were still alive. "It is so hot here." he says in Russian. "It only gets this hot back home during heat waves but here people act like it's normal."
"It sort of is, especially the last few years." Illyana says, her words a bit slow. Almost careful. Like Mikhail, she's not entirely sure what to make of the brother she's never known. At least she was aware he existed, however.
The stepping disk lingers in the middle of the room, not closing, and Illyana makes a slightly annoyed sound. A wave of her hand and it winks back out, but to Mikhail at least, it could easily be teased back open. The house sits on a dimensional weakspot, something he's certainly felt. It's easy for one dimension to push into the other here, though Illyana's Wards are in place to try to contain things that aren't *her* that might make it through.
"You didn't even know I was born, huh?" Illyana lips quirk a bit into a smirk. "Talk about your awkward gender reveal."
"You were born the same yeah I left?" Mikhail asks though he knows that's the case. "Mama must not have known when I saw her last. And then… They said my training was too important. Top secret. They could not allow contact with others outside the program. I wrote, every week, knowing they would censor the letters but Piotr said you never got any. And that they told you I had died in a training accident."
Illyana Rasputina gives a nod to the mostly rhetorical question and joins the now-younger man in the kitchen. Getting out a drink from the 'fridge, she moves over to the table there. "Piotr would know. I was seven, the last time I saw them. Too young to remember any letters." Apparently their family and Time just do not get along. None of them are the age they 'should' be.
Mikhail Rasputin turns to watch Illyana then leans back against the counter as she sits down. "I do not understand how this can be. I do not understand how I can spend six days beyond the rift and eight years pass. I do not understand how you can not have been born when I left home and are now older or how Piotr who was eight years younger than me now looks more like our father when I saw him last."
Illyana Rasputina mmms as she twists the top off of her drink and tosses the cap to the center of the table. "In different dimensions, time runs differently. Sometimes it's not especially noticeable but others?" She shakes her head. "Quite. So where you were trapped, approximately eight years passed here while only a few days happened for you. Time moved slower there. Piotr was recently trapped in a dimension where seven years went by while a little more than a day went by here. Time moved faster there. I've spent fourteen years in a faster dimension. Only a few months passed here." It's an oversimplification of her two stints in Limbo, but she doesn't figure Mikhail needs that complexity at the moment.
Mikhail shakes his head, not really satisfied. He already knew that much; he doesn't understand /how/. But it's not really important. "So neither of you know what it is like to just go to sleep and wake up years later. It would be easier to actually live years and then return to a world unchanged than the reverse." The way it is for him.
Illyana Rasputina shakes her head. "No. You're the only one of us that has had the rest of the world move on." The 'how' isn't something that's ever bothered Illyana. It's one of those things that just is. Like sun rising or the turn of the seasons. Time has always moved oddly in Limbo.
"So we brought you back here when you were out cold. But I don't know if we've had a chance to ask you what you want to do, now that you're here." Illyana says, watching him carefully with those pale eyes. "You're welcome to stay as long as you want."
"What I want to do." Mikhail repeats. "I am a Russian cosmonaut from 2011. What can I do? Return to Russia? To the government that lied to me and my family? What can I do here in America, Illyana? Stay here in this house and be useless?" Where did they put that bottle of vodka?
Where else do you keep vodka? The freezer.
The blonde sister gives Mikhail an amused look, despite the depressing litany he presents. "Well, I'd vote againt Russia, but you might have been a brainwashed patriot and while I might try to convince you otherwise I wouldn't try to stop you from what you want to do."
As for what to do in America? She looks thoughtful. "Well. We can have Sam check with SHIELD, and I can ask my friend in WAND if there's any route to get you some American status as a dimensional and/or temporal refugee."
"So I will be in no danger of being deported." Mikhail's tone is dry. "And then what? What top secret information I know is eight years out of date even if I were inclined to give it to the Americans. I make an excellent blini but don't think anyone will hire me for that."
Illyana Rasputina says, "I'm not a good one to ask about 'being useful'." Illyana says, her dry tone a match for Mikhail's. "I'm not exactly fit for most normal jobs. Hence me finding alternatives for rent." She gestures to the house around them.
"I'm sure that you have other skills. Cosmonaut isn't exactly a job you get pulled off the street for." The blonde points out, reaching down to start unbuckling her boots so she can put her feet on the edge of the chair set, knees pulled close to her chest. "Piotr's the optimistic one though. I'm sure he'll have ideas.""
Mikhail shrugs at that. "No." he agrees. "They pulled me off the farm for it. I am a very good farmer but not a very good soldier. It is my powers they wanted me for, nothing else, and trained me to use them so we could go through the rift. And even then I failed my mission and killed my friends."
Illyana Rasputina pins Mikhail with a look that seems too knowledgeable for even her older-than-him years. "Failing in your task is not the same as killing them. Maybe they died *because* you failed, but that is a different thing." Or maybe it just is to her. Demons tend to be lawyers at heart.
"There's a school that Piotr teaches at. That I went to high school at. A school for mutants. Might be somewhere to make friends, at least." Illyana points out.
"I did more than fail, Illyana. It was my job to keep us safe." Mikhail says softly, staring down at his glass. "But the energy in the rift was too strong; I couldn't keep it all away. The ship was starting to break up. It was all around us and inside too. I absorbed it all to keep it from them but there was too much. I couldn't hold it all. It got away from me and I killed them."
There's an opening of a door, and Piotr arrives home, whistling to himself as he carries a few canvas bags filled with fresh fruits and vegetables. "I have seeds for the garden!" he announces proudly in Russian. "It will be like back home."
Coming into the kitchen, he sets down the bags before taking out an apple to toss underhand to Illyana. "Brat, snowflake." he greets warmly. Apparently someone had a good morning.
Illyana Rasputina watches Mikhail quietly. She doesn't try to argue with him. Even if she could change his mind, it's likely too fresh for the man. She doesn't agree with his assessment, though. "So tell me about your power. Some sort of energy control then?"
She's interrupted by Piotr's arrival, and the cool emptiness of her eyes is chased away by warmth as she sees the large man. She catches the apple neatly and chuckles. "I should have found a house with more of a yard."
Mikhail looks up at the sound of the door. "Piotr." A bit of the black mood lifts but not all of it. He's still not sure how to deal with his older little brother. Or any of it all. "Energy is mine to command." he says to Illyana, probably parroting a phrase his trainers said to him. 'Energy is yours to command, Mikhail. Try harder and it will happen.' "Electromagnetic, thermal, electricity… It would be easier to list what I can not control." Holding out a hand, palm up, he tilts the glass till some water trickles down into his other hand. Though even before it hits his skin, it's turned to ice as he absorbed all the heat from it. Then it turns to steam as he adds enough to instantly skip the liquid stage. "A parlor trick but it got ne drinks in the officer's club."
Taking out another apple, he sets it down next to Mikhail. Wait - something's different. Piotr got rid of the beard and he seems a bit more trim and cleaned up. Perhaps to impress on someone. "When I was young, he showed me what he could do. My own powers came to be after I left." He's not sure if Mikhail has ever seen him in his other form, and he's not going to go jumping into it.
"Government came for me as well." he explains to Mikhail as he takes a seat. "Illyana was gone by then. They wanted to make me figure of Russian strength. Named me Poleterian Man. Name did not suit."
"Probably for the best that I wasn't there when I turned eighteen." Illyana muses. What's worse than a teenager with control over a dimension of demons? One that also takes orders from a government.
Taking a bite out of her apple, Illyana looks Piotr over for a long moment. "Things a bit better with Keiko?" She ventures.
Mikhail Rasputin takes the apple and goes to sit at the table. "I didn't use it for much back then. Light, warmth, electricity. Useful things but minor. They showed me I could do a lot more than I had been." For that, at least, he's grateful. Keiko. Not knowing what's going on there, he just stays quiet.
"Da. We have decided to try to be.. normal. Not just King and consort." It's not something Piotr is going to go explaining unless asked, and right now, his attention is on his older brother. "I am glad you are home. Even if it is not the home you remember." he admits as he takes a seat, and fishes out his own apple to start on. "We will need to find a way to shield you from home, though. If they know you are here and alive."
There's a sigh and he rubs his head. "There is a group I am with. But most of the mutants they deal with are young. Illyana was there when she was child. I was there after I left Russia. I could speak with them. They are experts on keeping things secret."
The list of energies that Mikhail has the ability to control gets a thoughtful look from Illyana. "Can you sense magic as well?" To her at least, it's a very real thing. To others… not so much.
Looking over to Piotr as he talks about the Institute, Illyana nods. "I figured we could also ask Sam, and I can follow up with Koa if SHEILD or WAND has any protocols for the temporally and dimensionally displaced."
"For what purpose, Piotr?" Mikhail asks. "To hide there? For how long? Forever? It was eight years ago. My name is probably buried in the archives as missing, presumed killed. Rasputin is hardly an uncommon name and I am too young to be the cosmonaut they lost."
"Not hide. To figure out what we can do. To get you help. To find you new place. New role." Piotr responds, a frown on his features. "Rasputins do not hide, Mikhail." comes the strength of his own resolve. "We only band together and become stronger. You are no longer Cosmonaut. They can teach you new skill. Still could be pilot. Learn to control your skills. Get better with them."
He sighs, looking thoughtful. "I have lost my sister twice. I have lost you once. I do not want to make this a habit. You both have niece now. Perhaps more someday. Stay. Learn. Grow. The school can use another teacher. Even if that teacher is learning to use his powers. Will you at least let us introduce you? You can make decision after that."
Illyana Rasputina eats her apple as her brothers talk, quietly thoughtful. "They've also got some experience with bringing people up to speed with where the world is at." Like herself out of Limbo, her previous life on a farm in Siberia doing little to prepare her for life in modern America. Or some of the mutants that were rescued from government programs, or grew up otherwise feral. "Somewhere to get your feet under you so you can get a better grip on your choices."
"I will meet them." Mikhail agrees. That was not something he was objecting to. "It is not so different now than it was then, Illyana. Technology is better than it was but a computer is still a computer. And a politician is still a politician. The names might be different is all." Standing, he asks Piotr "Where is the vodka?" Then "Yesterday, I went to Manhattan. I wanted to see this 'Mutant Town' I read of on the internet. It was being attacked by cyborgs, hating mutants. This too has not changed."
"No. Only been a decade. Not some things have changed. Illyana, you know where vodka is." She's old enough to drink after all. Even if she was twelve, she'd be old enough for the Russians. Piotr frowns at the mention of the cyborgs. "No, things have not changed. We can only continue to try to change them ourselves." he says with a shrug of his shoulders. "Until it is changed."
Illyana Rasputina points over to the freezer when Mikhail asks about the vodka. Which reminds her… She turns to look over at Piotr. "Speaking of vodka. I suppose I can understand you drinking all of mine, since you were stuck there for seven years. But that means you get to help me restock." Because she had none left in Limbo, damnit. "Also," There's a dry sarcasm to her tone now. "Do you want the bed? I don't think I want it anymore." The one in Limbo. That Piotr and Keiko slept in.
Mikhail Rasputin gets the vodka from the freezer and three glasses from the cupboard, taking them to the table. He pours one and sets the bottle down, letting them decide if they want some. "What is the dimension you just came from, Illyana? This one doesn't have a different time ration to here?"
"You can keep bed. I will find new one." There's no telling what would happen if they brought a Limbo bed into the house. And Piotr doesn't want to tempt fate. "Do you mean Limbo?" Or that other dimension that Illyana was in. Because he has no clue on that. He does pour himself a measure of vodka, though.
Illyana Rasputina nods as Piotr answers Mikhail's question. "My mutant power is control over the portals between here and Limbo. I get classified as a teleporter by I go from Earth to Limbo and Limbo back to Earth. The effect is the same, but I don't just move from here to somewhere else on Earth." Illyana clarifies a bit.
"And Limbo's time isn't fixed. The first time I was trapped there, seven years passed and hours passed here. The second time, another seven years but months passed. When Piotr was trapped there recently, seven years and little more than a day had gone by. Because I rule it, I can usually keep them mostly synched up. So an hour here is an hour there." But a lot of times she squeezes in some 'extra' time for herself on the Limbo side.
"So that was the one you were both trapped in. You hadn't named it." Mikhail says. Pause. "You rule the dimension? Just how did you come to do that? What's it like, this Limbo of yours? And why did Piotr get stuck in it for seven years if you can control the time like you say?"
"She rules it. It is something I had difficulty understanding at first. She was kidnapped there by the demon that used to rule it. He tried to return while Illyana was gone." Piotr explains. He doesn't go further than that - while he is part of her story, it is not his story.
Illyana Rasputina scowls a bit and sighs. Piotr's explanation gets a nod and then she elaborates. "Sam and I had went to rescue someone, and ended up trapped there. It ended up cutting off my connection with Limbo enough that time started running faster."
As to what it's like? Illyana glances to Piotr and finally pours herself her own measure of the vodka Mikhail brought over to the table. "It's a hell-realm. Most people, they talk of Hell as one place, but there's actually many reflections of it. Limbo is one of them. A realm filled with demons makes a poor servant and takes a strong hand."
Mikhail looks to first Piotr and then to Illyana as they answer. "And you rule it." His little sister is queen of a hell dimension. "I probably shouldn't open a portal to it then." he decides. As if that took much contemplating to arrive at.
"While she was trapped there, the demons of her world said they needed a Rasputin. They took me. They took Keiko because they wanted to ensure that there will be blood in the throne for next generation.. and we had Elena." Piotr explains. It's much more complicated than that, but that seems to be the easiest way to put it. "Never go there, Mikhail. They have their Queen. They have a heir. They do not need to know there is others."
Illyana Rasputina takes a large swallow of vodka, grimacing before she speaks. "I'd advice against opening a portal there, yes. That's something you can do then? " Because she doesn't have a lot of details on his powers yet. "At least that means you should be able to get back *out*. I can tell my demons you're mine and to leave you alone… But they're still demons and if I'm not *right there*, they still might try to press their luck."
The blonde looks over to Piotr. "Still. An option if you need to get there." Or get someone out.
"Energy is woven through the space all around us. I can tear it open to anywhere I know exists." Mikhail Rasputin. "Just hearing about Limbo was probably enough but having felt the other end of the portal you opened definitely was." He looks at Queen Illyana a moment then says "I would like to see it. I am curious."
There's a pause as Mikhail brings up going to Limbo. And he doesn't say yes or no, he defers to Illyana. She's the Queen there after all. "I will go with you. A piece of myself is still there." He knows the soul sword is missing - he just has no idea where it is. And if Illyana decides they are going, then he will change forms.
"You know what they say about curiosity and cats." Illyana tells the younger Rasputin. And when Piotr says he'll come as well she frowns over at him. "You don't need to do that. I saw your face when we went there to track down Mikhail."
When he says there's a piece of himself there, her eyes narrow at him. "What do you mean there's a piece of you still there?" She's hoping that's him being poetic.
And they're back to issues Mikhail knows nothing about so he just stays quiet and listens. Though he does comment to Illyana "That's why they have nine lives."
"When Koa bested me - he shoved the soul steel back into me. I felt my soul return - but part of it - the sword itself.. went off into.. I do not know." Piotr responds. "Keiko saw it go. I do not know if it is still there or not." There's a frown at that as he considers it. "But I feel like a part of me is.. not here?"
Illyana Rasputina brings her hands up in a T. "Wait. Wait. Timeout. Koa stabbed you with a *sword*?" They haven't had a lot of time to get into too much detail, but this is sort of a big one. "Your soul returned?"
Illyana leans forward and pours more vodka all around. It sounds like they're gonna need it.
"Is there a summary of what happened somewhere that I can read? Or a movie version?" Mikhail asks with the hint of a smile. The vodka seems to be helping improve his mood. "So I can get caught up on recent family history."