Sunday afternoon, Pietro and Crystal

[x-ccelerate.livejournal.com]

Pietro encounters Crystal on his way to the kitchen for a snack, and they catch up a bit and talk about the choices they've made.



Crystal walked down the hall, not heading anywhere in particular, just... walking. Knowing that she was here to stay was quite different from coming for a visit, even if both times had been by her own choice. All things considered, the mansion seemed fairly quiet right now, but having already spent a year at the mansion, Crystal knew the present calm wasn't likely to last. One way or the other, something would happen to disrupt the peaceful quiet she knew was only temporary.

A gust of wind blew past her and set the kitchen door swinging; a moment later, Pietro stuck his head out. "Oh, hello, Crystal, I didn't see you there. How have you been?"

Crystal laughed. "I have been fine, thank you. I am still attempting to become accustomed to the idea that I am here to stay. I made the decision weeks ago, but still, being here is very different from simply having thoughts about something or knowing that something will happen soon."

"At least you aren't on the run from your murderous terrorist ex-colleagues. That tends to complicate matters. But I remember the thought process, definitely." Pietro grinned. "Eventually I got tired of asking myself 'How did I end up here?' when I knew perfectly well. Introspection gets tedious rapidly."

"You are not still on the run from them, though," Crystal said. "I am sure that you do not wish to meet them again unless it would be to take them into custody, but you are no longer avoiding explosions set specifically for your benefit, and have not been for almost an entire year. Think of that. Nearly an entire year away from your father and the Brotherhood, not quite nearly a year since you were actuall free, but a year free from working with them."

"Oh, no, but I was when I was wrestling with the idea of coming here to stay. You're quite right, though, it has nearly been a year." Pietro leaned against the doorway thoughtfully. "I hadn't quite thought about it but the anniversary is coming up. Strange to think." He shook his head abruptly. "And how are things in Attilan? Firmly back on their feet, I suppose, since you've taken a position here?"

Crystal paused for a moment, considering the question. "Yes and no. The country itself is fine. The import and export trade is flourishing once more. Changes had to be made while we were away, and changes have had to and will need to be made now that we are back, and not everyone is happy with all that has happened and been revealed. People were quite surprised to discover that the past two generations of the royal family are and were mutants. Not everyone is thrilled with that or pleased to know that mutants ran a country, even if it was only for two years. The school, too... you would think that its creation meant that mutant schools were appearing all over the globe the way some people have reacted to it."

"Ah, fools. Where would we be without them?" Pietro shook his head. "As if mutants running around trying to learn to use their powers without proper supervision would be better."

Crystal shrugged lightly with just a bit of a smile. "That is what happens most of the time, though. Besides, watch any television program about aliens or humans with powers. They all seem to learn perfect control and come to realize the extent of their powers fairly quickly and all on their own. It can be done, of course, although that also depends on the ability, available resources, and suitable locations in which to practice... you were planning on a visit to the kitchen for a reason, yes?"

"Thus why I try to avoid popular television. I was thinking about a sandwich, do you want one?" Pietro held open the kitchen door. "Someday likely there will be mutant schools popping up all over. Though if they're all as chaotic as this one, we may just be trading one set of problems for another."

Nodding at the offer of a sandwich, Crystal stepped inside the kitchen. "Any school with teenagers is just that: a school with teenagers. Add in this the idea of a school with students who have only recently discovered that they are mutants, students who need to learn control, and you have a recipe for potential chaos right there. With the further addition of a team who resides in the same building as the school, many of whom are staff members at a school with teenage mutants, and has the tendency to leave the school to save the world, and you have that much more potential for chaos."

"Still, as a refuge of last resort I suppose I can't complain too much. I'm still here, after all, and the alternatives are significantly worse." Pietro started to rummage around for sandwich fixings as he spoke. "Preference, by the way? I was just planning to forage for cold cuts, but I'm open to suggestions."

"Whatever you make will be fine," Crystal replied. Cold cuts didn't sound entirely appealing. Crystal knew Lorna was quite health-conscious about the food the student ate, even if she did make meatloafapillers and sloppy joes, but Lorna didn't live in the mansion anymore and perhaps didn't hold the same reign over the school's kitchen as she once had. Hopefully these were decent cold cuts, not the type that was mainly water and came from… no, she didn't even want to think about that. "Which alternatives are worse, exactly?" she asked, looking at Pietro as he continued his search. "While your father was actively attempting to search for you there were hardly any safe places for you to go, true, but surely he cannot be spending his time now in an attempt to find you. You go out in public and have done so for a while; you have traveled to different countries and go places with the X-Men. Surely you are not still in hiding, unable to live anywhere off of the school grounds."

Whatever other people might mean by cold cuts, Pietro didn't know and didn't much care; he took a leftover beef roast out of the refrigerator and set it on a cutting board, and with a knife out of one of the drawers reduced about half an inch of it to thin slices. "To all appearances he's not looking for me now, no. But 'not now' isn't the same as 'never,' and if he does decide to come calling someday I'd rather be somewhere defensible, and with help. The X-Men have a better track record against my father than anyone in the world. I'm not entirely thrilled with the way things are done around here, as you know, but at least it's safe, for acceptable values of 'safe.'" He paused, dividing the meat up between the two sandwiches. "And I can do . . . something good with my life here. Helping our people, the kind of thing I used to think my father wanted to do. I'm willing to put up with a good deal because of that."

Crystal nodded once. "You could be daring and move out of the mansion, just as Lorna did. You would not even have to live in this state or a neighboring one and you could still spend time here to visit with your friends. I am not saying you have to do this, I am just saying that if you are not happy living here yet you still wish to be part of the X-Men..." She gave a small shrug and smiled lightly.

"I suppose," Pietro said. "Still, homeownership . . . I'd have to do all the annoying-but-necessary upkeep, and here there are people for that, or at any rate Marko." He put the sandwiches on plates and turned to present one to Crystal with a wry smile. "But I certainly don't intend to live here the rest of my life. Perhaps I ought to give the idea more thought."

Crystal took the plate Pietro offered her. "No one says you have to make the decision now, tomorrow, or even next week. As both of us know only too well, the entire course of a life can be forever altered in the blink of an eye. Who knows? You could move out next month or never at all depending on what happens in your life."

"Too true. Keeps life interesting, I suppose." Pietro bit into his sandwich.