12257/A Night's Reflection

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A Night's Reflection
Date of Scene: 02 August 2022
Location: Breakstone Lake
Synopsis: Jimmy comes across Psylocke vandalizing the lake area so he sets her straight, I tell you hwat.
Cast of Characters: Betsy Braddock, Jimmy Hudson

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Late night in New York, and Breakstone Lake is a quiet, serene refuge from the troubles of the world. On the edge of the lake, in the sandy beach a small campfire has been lit, and a young figure is sitting facing the lake with the fire between her and the water, hair caught in a light breeze.

Betsy is sitting lotus style, hands on her knees and a flicker of purple energy in the shape of.. butterfly wings? Betsy is also apparently playing loud British punk music at a distressingly loud volume, although somehow it doesn't seem to carry and flickers in time with the flickering energy around her...

Jimmy Hudson has posed:
    There are times when James Hudson has to step away from the mansion. Get clear of the chaos and activity of so many souls living together. Not that he resents the situation, more just how he's made. He's always felt more at ease in his own company or somewhere that the ambient sounds are a little more gentle.
    Breakstone lake was good for that. Particularly in the nights of the Summer. Those long hours of dark with the canopy of trees above limned by the glow of the moon. The sound of running water from the creek nearby. The occasional splash of a fish's tail in the lake.
    As he walked he was aware of that nocturnal world. Could pick up the rustle of feathers and feet, the trill of the bugs and chirp of the crickets. It all served to create this natural vibe that seemed right. Like the world was at its ease and people were welcome to witness it.
    Of course as he strolled his attention was grabbed by that... curious tinny sound of music. A slight smirk marked his features as he stepped past an aged oak, one hand brushing the bark of the tree as his eyes drifted...
    Then found the woman as she was sitting there with the music louder now. A small chuff of a breath is exhaled, a thing that would likely be a laugh if he gave it a little more energy. Here she was doing what he was likely trying to do.
    Only with her own twist of things. So like her.
    A moment he considered wandering over. Giving a word or two, just to let her know he was around. But she seemed at... he own version of peace. Best to go around.
    So that was the moment when Jimmy turned and started to head back onto the path. Likely the one that wends around the lake the other way.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
<< Going already, Jimmy? Didn't think you were the shy type. >> The energy around her eyes flickers, solidifies, and seems to swim into Jimmy's view as if he were looking straight in her eyes framed by the energy. And her psychic presence is /strong/. Most powerful telepath in the entire UK indeed!

There's exhaustion in her momentarily unguarded and unshielded thoughts, bitter frustration at herself and... And then the energy fades, as Betsy lets out an audible groan and opens her eyes. The sound of the Clash's 'White Riot' fades along with her psychic presence... except as the tinny, barely audible sound of the earbuds she pulls out before muting her phone with it's Union Jack case. "Unless the ground is too good for you, mmm?"

Jimmy Hudson has posed:
    Another exhalation, though this one is a more gentle one. Should've known she'd be aware of her surroundings. And that telepathic voice in his mind lets him know the truth of it. She offers first those mental words, and then the ones spoken. Two barbs in as many moments but he takes them with that wry smile he sports so easily.
    There's the crunch of dirt and gravel as he starts to walk back toward her, his steps before had been quiet. Curiously so, perhaps a natural instinct of his and how he moves as if to let her know he's there and where. More instinct. "Just didn't want ta disturb ya, Elizabeth."
    His tone is gentle, not quite the usual back and forth they share. Perhaps the time of the night and the peace of the world influences it. Like they were in the house of the divine, a thing of nature.
    A few more steps and then he'll be standing beside her, then slooowly eases himself down, legs folding though not as flexible as her lotus posture. He looks across the lake, then at her. "You're up late."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"You've a remarkably quiet, mellow mind, /James/." If he's going to make a point of using formal given names, she'll return the favor. But even for her, the barb is barely there as she lifts a stick from her pile and feeds it to the flames of her little bonfire. "It doesn't disturb the way some others might."

Another stick onto the fire, and she decides the fire is fed enough. To his well trained eye, the fire is built nearly perfectly: The improvised fire pit perfectly sized for a fire the size of the one Elizabeth built, and the wood stacked just right to stay within the bounds established. Not exactly to be expected, but when has Betsy ever met expectations?

"The same could be said for you, regarding the hour." She starts pertly, before grimacing and forcing herself not to get snarky. "Truth? Rough day. That creature that had Charles caught me, and took me out before the battle even started. It was an... unpleasant... experience."

Jimmy Hudson has posed:
    His nostrils flare slightly, and if she's maintaining that small touch, that hint of awareness to his mind... it might surprise her the flow and caress to his senses it is to just take in the world around him. Her campfire is a lovely thing, the scent of the smoke, the embers. The hint of moisture off the lake. The earthy loam around them. And her, to be fair, though she is a melange of the modern that is distant from the nature around. Yet in his thoughts it is distinctly /her/ and ordered so.
    "That's a kind thing to say." His smile is a little wary, as if waiting for a hint of some barb. A compliment twinned with a jab to take some of the awkwardness away. Only it doesn't come, beyond the use of his name. So he looks at her askance, smile a little more at ease as he murmurs, "I've been feelin'... good about things of late."
    Then those deep blue eyes follow her movement, watching the fire start its work consuming that errant twig. His lips part for a moment as if about to say something further when she offers that insight about the time. When she confides about the rough day he gives a nod. "I only heard about some of what had been goin' on. Hard times for people like yourself with feet in different worlds." The material and the astral, thought and action.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
To be fair, her scent is pretty distinctive, a custom creation from a perfumer in Paris that she would be having strong words with if Jimmy had smelled someone with the same scent. Lightly floral but with an warm finish like smoke fire.

"Some people are naturally that way. Charles is so compartmentalized and ordered touching minds with him is like the first time I walked into the main branch of the NYC Library system: All those books, each of them unique and containing something different." She glances at the fire, hint of a smirk. "Funny places, minds. And you're right; it is a hard time. Especially when things go south."

She shudders, and her knees come up to tuck her chin over. "Tell me about your good things, James." She abruptly says, tilting her head to glance his way. "I think I need to hear about things going right."

Jimmy Hudson has posed:
    "Ahh, Betsy..." Jimmy tilts his head to the side and she can feel that subtle shift, that warmth of concern that comes from a soul when they want only the good for another. It's extended to people so rarely, so often a polite pantomime of a thing and with her powers... she can likely tell.
    But Jimmy's concern is an open thing, given freely and sincere and all caught in that brief instant those blue eyes find hers and he says her name.
    But then that smile comes and he lifts a hand slightly, shifting his weight to his other hip as he raises a knee, resting his hand there as he sprawls out a little. Their shadows long behind them from that high moon. "I try ta grab onto the small things. From day ta day. What lil' I can do. I play up the whole goofy coach thing and the kids eat it up. Had that kid Janet Rey explain to me about her Summer science project and she loved talking about it, told me all the ins and outs about tectonic plates."
    A chuckle comes from him as his eyes distance across the lake, "Been keepin' on here as I can. Doin' what I can. Felt..." A look back to her as he smiles, "Felt good to help out the Asgard folk with that thing. Man that was crazy."
    Then he says with a small smile, "And Sif." His eyebrows lift and he seems to reflect for a moment. "She's great."
    Then with a small exhalation of breath that's little more than a 'heh', he shakes his head and then confides in her. "No idea what she sees in a guy like me."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Betsy Braddock relaxes a little bit at Jimmy's ramblings, eyes closing briefly as she simply absorbs the good vibes wafting off Jimmy and Jimmy's mind. It's an old telepathic trick, passively allowing someone else's good mood to influence her own, but it works.

"Summer science project?" Betsy looks faintly horrified, lifting chin from knees. "But it's holiday. When I was a little girl that meant disappearing into the wilderness for hours on end, not plate tectonics." She shakes her head, and reaches a hand over to lightly touch Jimmy on the arm. "She sees a good man." Betsy replies, wryly, "They're rare, and few and far between." She then tilts her head, looking at him critically. "It doesn't hurt you clean up nicely enough. Little wild, and I can feel depths there, but..." She shrugs again. Is there a hint of color on her cheeks? Or is it the firelight flickering against her British pale complexion.

She takes a breath, and let it out. "Thank you, by the by. I get... moody... sometimes. Especially after the whole body fiasco."

Jimmy Hudson has posed:
    The mood of the man at her side is definitely a more peaceful one. And the mind of him very much so as well. Despite that hint of the feral, the threat of the beast that is there with Logan's children, he at the least seems to have some leg up upon it that gives him an edge. Some insight that lets him be without being so on edge as some of the others.
    "Oh yeah," Jimmy says sidelong about the science project. "Some kids don't head home during the Summer." A twinge of sympathy there in his thoughts as those same kids often don't have a home to go to. "So good to give them some sort of focus sommit."
    A hand lifts to push through that wild mane of his hair as he looks across the lake, then smiles a little. His lips part as he's about to say something further when her hand touches his arm. It stops those words, gives him a moment taken aback as he turns to meet her gaze.
    His smile is given, gentle. She can likely feel the slight twinge of embarrassment from the man, even if she couldn't feel that rumbling undercurrent of his thoughts. She could likely see that slight flush of color just along the curve of his neck, the lobes of his ears. He shakes his head at first, looking away, smiling that dismissive smile he gets when he's about to give a casual jab or a distracting jape.
    Then he looks back at her and says soft. His other hand lightly covering hers, "Thanks, that's a... nice thing for you to say."
    A small moment, then his smile breaks open when they slip back into that pattern of giving back a little sass. He exhales a soft chuff as he shakes his head. "Depths?" He starts to ask...
    Though then she thanks him and he's drawn away from that thought. "S'ok, Elizabeth." Some reason that name feels right. More right? Some reason. "From what little I know, you've been through a lot."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"I was fortunate. If my parents weren't home or were busy, there was Jamie, my brother. If Jamie was too busy for me, which happened a lot because of the age difference, I could always pester Brian at his books." Betsy feeds the small fire another twig, and uses a bigger stick with a charred end to poke at the fire and break up a chunk of wood. "Science project during summer holiday is completely something Brian would do, the prat."

Her hand shifts, ducking out from under his and resting atop it momentarily for a squeeze of acknowledgement. "Depths." She confirms, wryly, "I dare say there's parts of you that no one sees, maybe not even yourself." Her lilac eyes examine him minutely, almost as if she were taking him apart to get to those depths. "Self-deception is dangerous in a telepath, but most of us do it anyways. And I dare say it's dangerous for those of your father's blood." And one eyebrow is raised. "I dare say the animal magnetism is nice enough, but if you're like Logan or others of the type," A polite way to say Sabretooth, "Then you struggle with an animalistic side." Beat. "And not just in bed." That's made with a smirk.

And on the topic of her past, she shrugs. "We all have stories. You're dating a literal goddess." She tilts her head. "In a frightfully candid change of topic: How much do you know about my body-switching? It's a fascinating story."

Jimmy Hudson has posed:
    "Hey..." Jimmy shifts a little, the gravel and debris of the ground shifting a bit as she changes posture. His other knee comes up and he rests his forearms on them, looking comfortable enough in the outdoors. Almost as if he belonged there. "I did a science project once durin' the Summer. Ages ago. It was the whole..."
    He lifts a hand as if trying to encompass the world, "Recreate a tornado in a tea cup sort of thing." He bites his lower lip and smirks, "Man I was a nerd." His lip twists up a little expecting her to bite on that straight line delivered.
    Though when she mentions depths again he falls quiet, listening. Then she mentions the wild side he and his deal with. That sharp snarling wildness that ends up taking its toll one way or another. She can feel that slight draw back in his thoughts, that instinctive self-protection as any number of casual deflections come unbidden to his thoughts. Yet she might be pleased to also sense him pushing them away in lieu of something truthful when he tells her. "I have my own way of handlin' things. I paid a price when I was young, wild, and foolhardy. So... I try not to be that..."
    Of course then she makes her crack about his romantic habits and he snorts as he shakes his head as he turns away. But nudges her with his shoulder as if to punish her for such rudeness.
    She mentions Sif and he shakes his head, "Yeah, crazy how that came about." Then she also brings up the tale of her own past and he says, "I only heard about it second or third hand really. About the Hand. Mental battles. Striving to be yourself. I can't imagine what you've had to go through."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"You were a nerd." Betsy confirms for him, with a sage nod, and then focus on the fire for a moment while he draws into himself momentarily. When he 'resurfaces', as it were, and doesn't deflect Betsy smiles softly at the fire but otherwise doesn't acknowledge the private battle.

"Oddly enough, it was also a matter of me being young, wild, and foolhardy." She replies with an surprisingly inelegant snort. "My twin, Brian, isn't a mutant, but he has his own... gifts. Family heirlooms." She waves a hand in the air, dismissing all that as too complicated. "Calls himself Captain Britain, the prat. But he was facing someone weak to psychic powers so I offered to help." She grimaces. "I had my eyes ripped out and was kidnapped by the Hand. They brainwashed me and swapped my body for that of an assassin named Kwannon that had been rendered braindead. I was turned into their most prized assassin, Lady Butterfly." she shakes her head, "I managed to break the brainwashing and escape, and eventually restore my body, but... Kwannon's thoughts, maybe even her soul... It was all mixed with my own using both psionics and sorcery." She spreads her hands again, "Thus being as British as bangers and mash, but a fully trained Hand assassin."

Jimmy Hudson has posed:
    Listening to her, James leans to the side for a moment to take up his own twig, though he takes his time. For now he's pulling off the old brown leaves, just one at a time as he breaks those small pieces clean. Though his eyebrows rise at the Captain Britain part. She might even catch from his mind the train of thoughts that takes him from imagining that as strange, over to telling himself that Captain America is strange too, why not a Captain Brit? That inner monologue reflected in the slight way he tilts his head though he listens to her tell the tale.
    She mentions what happened. Her eyes. The transfer of awareness. His own brow furrows and there's a subtle kindle of fire in his thoughts that he pushes down as he tells himself that the matter is done. She's likely had her revenge.
    "I knew some of that." He says at first, and his thoughts flicker to her. How he sees her. Beautiful. Deadly. Clever. Wry. Attractive. All less images in his mind and feelings that flit before he can edit them, or perhaps he's not practicing any of those lessons Xavier gives to his students. Maybe feels he doesn't need to.
    "We all have had our journey to get here." He says as he looks across the lake, a deep breath taken. Held. Then released slowly through his nose. "Sounds like yours took from you as much as it gave."
    A pause there, the fire licking at the wood and crackling softly. Then he adds, "You're still dealing with that. The aftermath I mean."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"I don't think that's something one ever stops dealing with." Betsy looks uncomfortable for a few moments, although for all her receptivity to Jimmy's surface thoughts and impressions she is well contained and not projecting anything. He's going to have to use old fashioned body language to figure out her thoughts.

"How do you pick up the pieces from something like that, James?" She asks rhetorically, throwing another twig onto the fire, watching it catch and flame. "There's times I look into the mirror and don't recognize myself. Times when I dream and remember the horrific things I did under the brainwashing, and even memories that cannot be mine." She grimaces. "The name 'Kwannon' is in reference to the Shinto goddess of mercy. The Hand had a rather sick sense of humor when they named their top assassin that."

A breath in, and then out, slowly, as she adds in a small voice. "And part of me revels in it. The part of me that was too weak to stand up to the Slaymaster, that envies her twin brother the physical power. I'm a weapon now, and there is a very real part of me that absolutely adores it."

Jimmy Hudson has posed:
    The man beside her looks on her with a gaze that has its own touch of sympathy. She can likely feel the depths of it, though part of him perhaps recognizes on some level that the woman that she is... she might not entirely want that sympathy, or might consider it pity. So he holds that feeling back. Then expresses it very gently with one hand resting on her shoulder.
    It's a good connection, just the small weight of his hand, then the slight squeeze of gentle fingertips. Letting her know on a level beyond that he's there, beside her, accompanying her thought this moment and sharing these thoughts... these reflections.
    "When I..." Jimmy starts to say something, and she might catch the faint flicker of a rainy night, of flames, of pain and blood. Yet she can also likely feel the way he suppresses that as he adjusts those words, "When somethin' like that... affects you. Changes your whole life. All you can do is get to grips with those things in front of you. That you can change."
    His lips twist slightly, then his hand eases free slowly after another small squeeze. "I know it sounds trite. The whole we can't change the past. All we can do is fix what's right in front of us. To aim at a better future."
    A small slight smile then, "And you're in a good place. A good way to make that change. If you're wantin' to, Elizabeth."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
He can feel the shift in her body language, the momentary instinctive urge to violence at the touch before she shoves it back down with all the considerable willpower in her tall, statuesque frame to accept the offered sympathy and connection.

Her lilac eyes flicker to his face at the impressions given, but she doesn't comment on what is obviously something he didn't intend for her to sense. "Trite, but those old sayings stay around for a reason." Betsy agrees wryly, shaking her head ruefully, "You're right, though. It is what it is. I cannot change it any more than I can bring my parents and older brother back from the dead." A slightly brooding expression, then, as she adds, "And this is perhaps the perfect place to rebuild. Decide what I want to do with my life. For better or worse, I am what the Hand made me and there is no escaping that."

She frowns, then, and stares back into the fire. "Which is another can of worms. They'll come for me someday. I know too many of their deepest secrets." She flicks her fingers dismissively, though, adding, "But that'll almost be a relief. Kwannon was left brain-dead after our little adventure, so it's not as if I have to face her."

Jimmy Hudson has posed:
    "There are worse places to try and forge yer fate." Perhaps he did sense that subtle bristling, that tension in her shoulders, the micro-tells associated with violence that he keys to on an instinctive level. All thanks to that whisper of the feral in the back of his mind. Yet he makes no sign of it beyond a slight furrow to his brow. And there's no word offered against it.
    "And if folks make a run at this place, then I dunno, kiddo. I think they'll have a mess of trouble served up on their plate." He tries a small smile, then turns back to look at the fire and the lake behind it. He take a deep breath and draws his knees up to rest his arms on them.
    "Is there anythin' I can do ta... I dunno, help you work through these emotions? Or to try and wrangle what you want out of..." He smiles a little more as he realizes what he's saying isn't exactly the most helpful thing as he murmurs, "Heck, out of everythin'?"

Betsy Braddock has posed:
There's a flicker of an image in Jimmy's thoughts, a projection from Elizabeth given the brief butterfly-like manifestation of energy around her face. The image is one of a large cavern, lit by torchlight, and men dressed in black standing around a ritual space chanting. Inside the circle, the impression of something dark and evil and bestial. "Don't underestimate the Hand, James." Betsy says softly, "They managed to keep me enslaved for nearly a year, despite my telepathic abilities. They have resources most people cannot imagine."

But then the image fades, and she picks up her poking stick to poke at the fire. "Part of why I don't live in the mansion proper is if they come for me, I don't want the students exposed." She admits, "As much because the press of thoughts and emotions can be exhausting. How Jean and Charles deal with it, I'll never know."

And then he's offering his help, and gets a smile from Betsy. It's a real smile, if a bit tired, with none of her usual vamping or wry teasing. It's clear to see how she became a top super model before the body-switching. "If there is, I don't know how." She replies, "But I hear simply having a friend to talk to helps." She cocks her head at him, then, the momentary openness replaced by a teasing grin, "Although you have arranged a marvelous distraction with the Asgardians. I cannot wait to go exploring the Nine Realms! Brian can have Otherworld and Avalon... I'll have all of reality to adventure in!"

Jimmy Hudson has posed:
    She gives him that image and it holds him. His expression tightens and he nods, taking away from it likely what she wants to give him. Wariness, awareness of their threat. He gives another nod then pushes some of the burning embers around with his own branch before as he listens to her tell him as well about not wanting to live in the mansion for her own reasons.
    "That's probably wise. For this and because... it can be a test of one's patience." Since he's lost a good amount of sleep now and again over the last year and some.
    But then she mentions the Asgardians and what beckons before them which has his smile broadening into a half-grin. He shakes his head as his eyes widen a little, knowing how crazy it all can be as he murmurs, "If you'd told me a year ago that I'd be runnin' around with a bunch of... extra-dimensional Shakespeare talkin' people, I'd have thought you were hopped up on goofballs."
    Another small exhaled hint of a laugh as he shakes his head, "Crazy how we got brought into that."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Crazy but fitting." Betsy chuckles, pushing hair out of her face. "I don't think you knew, but my family has ties of a sort with the fairy realms. We are long-time vassals of Merlin, and the position of Captain Britain is a hereditary one as a protector of Merlin's private pocket dimension, Otherworld." She shakes her head, "My parents died when Brian and I were young, so we never learned from them about it, but one day Brian was minding his own business when Merlin and his daughter appeared and offered him the position. So in some ways, it's like I get to be part of the family business again."

She laughs, lightly, and adds, "Maybe I should call Brian if he's in this dimension and see if he'd let me represent the Captain Britain Corps and Otherworld to the Asgardians. He gets so protective over his duties!" That said, she does cock her head to the side, and adds, "Which is somewhat understandable. I'd get touchy if he tried to stick his nose into the school or the X-Men."

Jimmy Hudson has posed:
    "I didn't know that." Jimmy says as she explains about the role her family has played in the past for the sceptered isle. He tilts his head to the side, "Seems like every time I glance yer way, Braddock there's more to ya."
    A small cluck of his tongue signals a hint of disparagement as he gives her a hassle for that, but his smile is still there and it's a warm thing. "Heck, I didn't even know Merlin was a real fella." Then his eyebrows lift, "Then again I guess if Thor is a real fella stands ta reason."
    It's clear he hasn't entirely crossed that bridge that so many heroes do at points, realizing exactly how the great stories became stories and instead still views himself... as something akin to normal. He worries at his lower lip for a brief moment thoughtfully, then looks at her sidelong.
    "Ya know, for the longest time I had no idea Sif was... you know, herself. Did I ever tell ya that story?" There in the flicker of the campfire his smile seems a little wider with how the shadows are cast upon him even as he nudges a bit more of the burning embers around.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Betsy Braddock laughs and runs a hand through her hair. "Life's too short for the expected, James." She replies with amusement, "Government spy, fairy princess, telepathic ninja, mutant supermodel..." Another laugh, and she shakes her head, "I dare say we all look back and find what we see surreal. I mean, you're Texan by way of Canada." She raises an eyebrow at him, as if daring him to say he's boring and normal.

"You didn't tell me, actually." Betsy replies with a grin, as she carefully adds more wood to the fire even as Jimmy breaks up the embers. "Although it has to be good. Only you could accidentally date a goddess."

Jimmy Hudson has posed:
    "See, that figures inta it." Jimmy says as he points at her when she mentions the whole Canadian Texan thing. But his smile widens and for a time he looks across that lake with that wry grin, pleased to share the moment even as he shakes his head a little.
    Then he murmurs, "Only me, sha." He even goes so far to give voice to a wry 'harumph'.
    But then he says, "I mean, I knew she was..." He raises a hand a little, "Bit outta my league. But goddess. Yeah."
    He then turns a little to look at her directly. "So basically, every year there's a big horse and pony show down the ways upstate." Jimmy gestures with a nod in the general direction of the fairgrounds, as if she'd know what he was talking about.
    "The family I stayed with while I was in Texas, they'd come up for it and I'd give 'em a hand. Was nice ta... you know, reconnect. They breed horses, and some of 'em compete. Sif... well you know she loves horses." After they had that conversation at the embassy.
    "Well she came up and started askin' questions. And I was my usual helpful and charmin' self." At those last few words his smile starts to broaden. Then he shakes his head, "Though, to be fair, was a few weeks after that, after I'd helped her choose a few animals for stock, helped her get squared away with the ranch when I sorta realized that she..."
    A beat, then he says, "Well, yeah." As if that was enough of an ending to the story.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"A little out of your league, yes." Betsy's tone is dry, lilac eyes dancing slightly with amusement, before she goes quiet to listen to his story. "Goddess is quite a bit more prestigious than a redneck." Her tone is teasing, but kind and friendly, without any edge.

"I just bet you were." She grins when he talks about being his usual helpful and charming self. "The fact it was a gorgeous, tall, muscular warrior woman asking the questions didn't hurt." She grins over at him, and nudges his shoulder telekinetically as she continues to tend her little fire.

Her smile eases off somewhat, as she considers him seriously, "Sif is a lucky woman. Gods, warriors of myth, legends... All of them are a dime a dozen, when you know what to look for. A good, upright man? And one that didn't know who she was? I dare say anyone would have trouble resisting."

Jimmy Hudson has posed:
    There's a hint of a flush to him, just around the tips of his ears as he shakes his head and looks away, smiling that smile of a man that's caught out as if he had been the fella to discover fire and had been keeping it to himself for ages. "Wasn't entirely like that."
    He laughs a little as he shakes his head and murmurs, "She seemed..." There's a pause as he adds, "Well to be fair a lot like you." A half-smirk when he adds, "When you're acting all poncy and high falutin'." That's right, he said she was poncy.
    Then he says, perhaps in a hint to take away some of the sting, "But she was elegant... and regal. And she spoke so perfectly, with that accent. I think there was a good bit of time where I probably missed some signals because I couldn' really... see someone like that inta me."
    Then she offers that point of view. About him. Who and what he is. He smiles a little at her, and she can feel that it affects him. That she slips past that guard where he thinks people are so often just... blowing smoke up his bum. So he accepts those kind words as he murmurs.
    "Thanks, Elizabeth. That's... a kindness, for you to say that." His tone a little deeper, stronger. Then he nudges her gently with his shoulder.
    "C'mon, let's mosey on back. I'll put the fire out. Mebbe we can grab some of that Sangria that Roberto had the other day."