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| Behind enemy lines; Archangel, Psylocke | |
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| Topic Started: Oct 13 2011, 04:58 AM (574 Views) | |
| Betsy Braddock | Nov 22 2011, 12:35 AM Post #16 |
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Telepathy (I'm not a bloody ninja)
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This time, it was Betsy’s turn to withdraw her hand, even though a small part of her wanted to keep it where it was. She had not been seeking comfort, not really, but she had been burnt so many times in the past and although she had prevailed and made it through every time, it was not always easy. Maybe it was simple as all she had wanted from this dinner was to have a moment where it was not all about fighting and disruption and the demons that dogged the both of them, to have something normal for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. Briefly, the White Queen had to wonder if that was what Warren was feeling too. Flexing the fingers that he had grasped, she glanced down to them in a natural reflex…or would have, had she eyes to see her hand upon the table. Curling her hand into a fist out of frustration, Betsy pulled it back and hid the offending appendage in her lap, while spearing at a piece of carrot and slowly raising it to her mouth. The food tasted wonderful, but the steady care that she was required to take dulled a little of the enjoyment for her. Warren’s question made her look up quite sharply and for a split second, the Englishwoman frowned at him, then turned her attention to where her two Pawns were seated. Psylocke understood why he asked, but she was not so sure that he understood. Setting her fork down, she took a sip of her wine and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear from where it had fallen across her face. “If I do…You understand if anything happens to me, you’d be held responsible?” her tone was light, as to not draw any unwanted attention towards them – tone was often registered before words and she had no wish to draw a crowd, or to even make this unpleasant. Archangel meant well, she knew that, but right now… Lifting her chin, she smiled apologetically. “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. This is just not an easy time for me, or indeed any of us. The risks… I’d love to go, but I can’t chance anything happening and it is not that I don’t trust you, but I’m very…” the word caught in her throat and she grimaced. “Vulnerable. Right now. I still have my powers, yes, but it was not just my eyes I lost, Warren.” She clenched her hand into a fist once more, then relaxed her fingers where they lay in her lap and nibbled at her food. Betsy wanted to do something so normal as going to a musical with a friend, but at that moment in time, he might as well have asked her to go to the moon. |
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| Archangel | Nov 22 2011, 07:05 AM Post #17 |
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Unregistered
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Warren glanced at the delicate hand that slipped from his grasp, not really surprised that it had happened. Betsy had been through a lot... her world torn apart on multiple occasions and frankly, he was impressed that she was holding it together as well as she had. Most people, even despite having an advantage such as telepathy, would have completely fallen apart had their vision been forcibly removed. Had been held against her will by religious fanatics who hated her for her very genetic structure; they didn't see the beautiful, intelligent woman, but a monster. And of course the fact that she was eating lunch with her beloved brother's murderer was just another notch in the crazy that invaded her life. It was sick. It was just wrong. Yet she seemed to be considering his suggestion of attending without any of her pawns, something that he wasn't sure he'd even had the right to bring up. Betsy might be doing amazing, but even she needed her certain things in her life right now that were consistent. Her pawns had served her for years loyally... been constant companions willing to do nearly anything for her should she ask. Warren wondered if they'd even die for her if the situation called for it. He glanced over his shoulder at the pair of pawns, sure he caught the man looking at him for a second before he averted his eyes to his companion. He finally turned his gaze back to Betsy and studied her for a long minute as she finished up a slightly vague explanation on her vulnerability... mentioning how she'd lost much more than her sight. It was something most of them could relate to – some to a larger extent than others. Warren himself had lost more than his parents or even his wings in this damn war. He had been stripped of his humanity – the part that made him compassionate and have a desperate longing for peace – and he wasn't sure he'd ever really fully recovered from it, nor would he... despite the progress he had made of late. He nodded his understanding out of habit before he remembered that she couldn't see the gesture. “I understand. You do what you need to. I thought it would be a nice change from the normal. I... know I don't have the right to your trust right now, so the fact that I asked you to is probably demanding an awful lot from you, Betsy.” He didn't want to go down this road... not after they had covered so much ground on it already, but he had to make his intention clear. “But one day I hope I prove to you that even in times like this, when you are the most vulnerable, I can be one of those people. Not one of your pawns, but you know what I mean. It's important to me. You're important to me.” And not just because you're some ticket to redemption. You're more than just that. “So,” he said, hitching a grin on his face, his tone becoming a bit more playful. “I'll go ahead and secure four tickets. This time.” Yes... there would be other times. This was just two friends hanging out after all, and they were far from defenseless. Then why did he suddenly feel like a teenager being chaperoned by parents? -End |
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7:34 PM Jul 11