xp_logs | Nathan and Pietro, the streets of Budapest

Pietro runs into Nathan in the middle of the festivities. Differing perspectives or not, they both agree that it's turned into quite a remarkable day.

It was only right and proper, Pietro thought, that the people of Budapest hold a massive street celebration in honor of their new Prime Minister. Barath's achievement was nothing short of a triumph for the mutant people--the first one of their own, publicly acknowledged, to be raised to his country's highest office by a democratic process. It was acknowledgement and affirmation and hope for the future, and Pietro wanted nothing so much as to abandon all care and join in the celebration.

But he was who he was, so while he moved through the crowd he held himself apart. He enjoyed himself, to be sure, but there was no silencing the part of him that relentlessly pointed out how dangerous a noisy crowd could be, how easy it was to move unnoticed--just as he was--for purposes of one's own.

Movement in the crowd caught his attention, and he failed to repress a snort. Some people were apparently better at letting go than others. What was Dayspring doing?

Nathan was, to put it simply, juggling children. Six of them, as a matter of fact, all well below ten years of age, and all giggling in mad glee and shrieking joyfully as the telekinetic tossed them up into the air, spinning them - gently - in interlocking spiral patterns. It was the equivalent of an invisible amusement park ride.

"God help you if you drop any of them, you lunatic," Pietro said as he elbowed his way up to the other man, voice pitched to carry through the crowd. "I'm not bailing you out if you incite a riot."

"I've sworn off riots, Pietro!' was the cheerful response as Nathan shot him an amused look, his gray eyes glittering in what was a very alarming way. He gave the kids another couple of minutes of flight time, then set them down, much to their protests, and bade their smiling parents a good afternoon. "Don't be sour," he chided the other man as they made their way through the crowd.

"Sour? Sour?" Pietro shot him an annoyed look. "For someone who's spotted thirty-seven pickpockets and a would-be rapist in the last half hour, I'm remarkably cheerful, I think. And anyway, you and your telepathic contact-high are in no condition to cast aspersions on anyone else's mood." He allowed himself a grin anyway. "It's a great day, though. A big step forward."

"I am not high!" The exclamation was rather spoiled by a giggle, which was rather a shocking sound, coming from someone of Nathan's height and stature. He slapped a hand over his mouth, glancing sideways at Pietro, his eyes dancing. "I'm a little high," he confessed. "And yes, it's a great day. You realize-" He gestured around at the crowds, "this is pure defiance, not just celebration. It's like the biggest Mutant Pride parade ever."

"Of course it is. And a long time coming, too." Pietro looked around at the crowd, amusement warring with pride in his expression. "Barath is one of ours. We finally have a rallying point we can be proud of. I just hope the man doesn't collapse under the weight of his own symbolism."

"I confess to a certain glee at an openly mutant head of state - that and profound pity for his security detail," Nathan said, "but I'm as delighted by the fact that there are just as many or more baseline humans in this crowd as mutants." He tilted his head at Pietro, raising an eyebrow. "Do you not find this a cause for celebration, too?" He was definitely a little loopy, Nathan acknowledged happily, but the ambience was something else. "They're thrilled that it's him. This whole society is dedicated to integration, Pietro."

"I'm celebrating!" Pietro replied, stung. "This is what I look like when I'm celebrating. In public, that is." He looked around at the crowd again, this time picking out the human, or at least the not-obviously-mutant faces. "It's . . . a little odd, I think," he confessed. "Part of me wants to insist that they have no place here, that this is our celebration. But I have to admit . . . if we have to have a crowd of screaming humans I'm not sorry it's a happy crowd."

Nathan leaned closer to Pietro, as if conspiratorially. The slightly frightening glitter was still there in his eyes. "Want to know a secret?" he asked in an exaggerated whisper. He waved a hand at the crowd again. "Mutant, baseline - I can't tell, Pietro. Except if it's a psi, or they've got some mutation that affects their thought patterns. Everyone else, mutant and baseline... they're the same. If I close my eyes, they're the same."

"Which only goes to show that telepathy isn't infallible," Pietro retorted cheerfully. "I could've told you that already."

"You're missing my point!" Nathan insisted with the enthusiasm of someone who was well and truly telepathically drunk on the crowd. "We're all the same. This isn't just a victory for mutants, it's a victory for everyone."

"They get enough victories by themselves," Pietro said. With a smirk, he added "Besides, what happened today is momentous enough to support multiple interpretations. In my own head, if I don't want to share the occasion, I don't have to. My reputation as a grouch being what it is, nobody will even be surprised."

"That's perfectly okay, Pietro," Nathan said with a smile that showed all his teeth. "The rest of us are sharing enough for all of your grouchy impulses." As he met Pietro's eyes, the glitter in his was no longer figurative, but quite literal. "I've never felt anything like this before. I don't think I'm ever going to forget it."

"Oh, neither will I." This time, the look Pietro cast around the crowd held nothing but appreciation. "Whatever spin you want to put on it, this is a truly great day."