1515/On the Beach...

On the Beach...
Date of Scene:	05 May 2020
Location:	Long Island
Synopsis:	Siblings have a heart-to-heart. Belasco is going DOWN!
Cast of Characters:	Illyana Rasputina, Piotr Rasputin

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Long Island stretches away from New York in a long ovoid lozenge, pointing into the Atlantic. It doesn't matter that Illyana barely drives, though technically she can. There are appealing places on the surf-chased north and south shores worth exploring. One of those ancient forests, a remnant from the Ice Age, isn't popular so much this time of year. It means tramping out into the pines, finding a small headland falling away into the sea. No such thing as high cliffs here, they're mostly low and rolling dunes at best leading into pebbled shingles or sometimes sandy beaches high with driftwood, kelp, and misery. Still, this is something she asks of Piotr: to stop prepping for a class or painting and walk with her, taking that portal that winks through one side of New York to another in the moment it takes to think.

She has hiking boots on, an anorak to break the wind and keep her relatively dry. For them, this mustn't be cold. After the Savage Lands, it probably is.

Piotr Rasputin has posed:
Piotr had accepted his sister's invitation, needing a moment to put Boris somewhere where he would not be a terror for a little bit with wet food and toys. He has on cargo shorts and a Swole Patrol hooded sweatshirt along with the hiking boots for the walk. He is actually in a good mood, the upside of end of year is that most of the lesson plans were already written, mostly just finishing touches and final exams.

The elder Rasputin looks over to his sister and says in their native tongue,

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Boris probably would be welcome on a leash, but the only leashes that Illyana possesses belong to the flexible telekinetic kind, so that might not be ideal. Or demon leashes. Or leashes who /are/ demons, and therefore also not suitable. The air is fresh, however, cut clean with the hints of evergreen mingling thickly with the brine. That might be a departure from their pine barrens in Siberia, close to Lake Baikal, but they still have a similarity: cold, green, grey. Brisk and refreshing, as it is, though his sister is strangely subdued. Piotr might notice that dimming, or perhaps just her penchant for quiet and walking. Walking, and walking, until the miles of trails are theirs to discover without many words at all. Because trails /are/ welcome, and beautifully suited to wearing them down.

<<We need to get away, sometimes. It is so easy to forget,>> she finally says, invited to respond and following the tall brown-haired man with ease. The water flanks them, a narrow ribbon of dunes covered in half-dead grass bestirring itself again now that spring is finally settling in. <<You are happy, da?>>

Piotr Rasputin has posed:
Piotr takes a deep breath, enjoying the brisk air. It was close enough to home to make him nostalgic, but also close enough to the new home to be comfortable. He joins in the walking, staying silent as his sister does until she talks, <<Da, a little fresh air goes a long way. To step away from the world for a little bit and remember that it is a large world that sometimes just feels a little too small.>> Her question, though, makes him thinks, <<Da, I think I am? I do not know, some days go well, and then things go wrong fast for a bit. To answer fully, I would say I am uncertain, but would like to think so, but still do not know. And you? Do you feel happy? If not, what can I do to help?>>

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
<<You, uncertain?>> That plucks the blonde's attention from contemplating the sea and lifting her glacial-blue eyes up to Piotr. They have much more colour than her usual arctic-fair gaze normally has, her hair settled into slightly more blonde than white. It's not a trick of the light or the proximity to the ocean with its lamentable concrete and steely shades. Not against the darkened green pallor of the trees coming back into profusion again, fresh tufts at the end of their branches. <<What makes you uncertain, brother? You seem very satisfied in the school. You fought well in the Savage Lands. You saved children by keeping Herr Doktor away. With a solution, Hank will probably fix things, and you can sleep sounder for knowing you were protecting those who could not be protected.>>

She gives that long, assessing look.

Piotr Rasputin has posed:
<<Mainly the unknown bothers me, could things be different,>> Piotr notes and looks down and notices the change in coloration, <<But I am content. I would not change anything that is currently true about my current state, that I can think of. So perhaps I am happy, just uncertain if I could be happier.>> he ponders as he walks, <<You also played key roles in defeating Sauron and helping cure others, even if he had that... remote.>> Piotr visibly cringes a little at it, <<Though you appear to be happy at least!>> He gives a bit of a smile, <<All going well for you?>>

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
<<The unknown bothers most. To accept it, you must accept everything or deny it. Neither is a situation for long-term contentment.>> Illyana shakes her head slightly, her hair flowing in a cloud around her shoulder. The nearness of them isn't quite so defined, though she follows around in her brother's shadow happily enough. <> She tilts her head back, breathing deep of the saturated air and its evergreen promise. <<Mm. Here is good. I think you might be happier. Your purpose drives you, but a deeper one exists. Your feet will lead you there. I am not telling you a divination, just my thoughts.>>

Piotr Rasputin has posed:
Piotr listens and nods, <<Da, it is the way of things, and I understand your anger,>> he nods to his little sister, <<But we must show mercy, for there is great power in mercy and forgiveness, though both are difficult to give, especially when we have been wronged by him.>> He keeps walking and listens quietly, finally speaking after a few pensive moments <> He may be the elder sibling, but he knows that Illy has knowledge and wisdom beyond his understanding on certain topics, <<And you still dodge my question.>>

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
<<Such power is all I hang by, Piotr.>> Illyana's volume is scarcely beyond a whisper, eroded into the point he might have to stretch to really hear her. The factual detail and the roughened evasions blend together so easily when she speaks. <<Mercy, a quality utterly unknown for the better part of my life. You grasp it so easily, that is one of your great gifts. Never cease to follow that path. I cannot complain for your gifts in sharing compassion where few would have. I hope more have strength to follow you. Maybe America makes it easier.>> Her doubts show through there, but the cynic of Russian habit shows up through her unequivocating pause there. It's hard indeed to embrace hope, for all that one of the Rasputins excels at it. Their great-grandfather certainly could. Maybe the lion's share lives in a sword.

But, then, the sea. <<A map to follow? For you, sometimes. You will mention something and it sounds right. I have no trouble hearing the truth fo it, satisfying or hopeful in you. But your compass is true, do you ever doubt it?>>

Fingers trail down her sleeve of her coat, flattening it. <<Second guessing my intentions rarely goes well. I am nonetheless at a point where I have to be brave and do the right thing. I want my soul back, brother.>> A statement of fact. <<Reclaiming it will cost me something.>>

Piotr Rasputin has posed:
<> Piotr says with a smile, a bit weakened by his concern for his sister's feelings, <<You deserved better. You are my sister, and only I get to make you miserable,>> He has to slip a joke in there, and gives a little laugh, <<Having you here makes me happy, family is important, and perhaps that is my path?>>

Piotr walks a little, <<Then if you have to go get your soul back, what is the plan? How can I help?>> His voice now has its strength back, <<Know that you will never walk alone.>>

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
<<One of us must,>> murmurs the smaller Rasputina, crossing her arms over her chest. The smile is met with that long look away from the ocean, how the swells rise and crest to wash the beach clean. Little by little, they will devour the island and reach the Connecticut coast, chewing up the submerged river valleys bit by bit. <<Misery may be coming. Deliberately done, but for a greater good. I asked you about regret some days ago, do you remember? What you regretted doing, not doing. It all came to a head, and I am so frightened and hopeful at the same time. This weakness makes me sick.>>

She doesn't show any signs, following him down the path. <<I have to hurt someone by trying to be good, Piotr, and there is no way I can turn the blade on myself instead. It may not even turn out happily for anyone, but to /not/ regret a decision I never made... I have to choose to do something. Before I seek my soul, or he will use it against me.>> He. There is only one He, and it's not a tractor maker. Her gaze slips away, lost to the sea. <<Someone is going to be angry and upset by me, and I want you to know I am trying to be good. To be an adult, like you are, in making hard choices to do the right thing. Then I have to find Belasco. Or the stones. I do not know he has them, but if he does...>> It's a better idea to bring Logan, ya know? <>

Piotr Rasputin has posed:
<<Not if I can help it,>> Piotr says kindly, though his smile dissipates with Illy's long stare out to sea. He turns and looks out to see if she is looking at something, but he only sees water, <<What sort of misery? Who will suffer, and I do not think you are weak.>> He takes a deep breath, <<Who is it that you hurt when you do good. But we /will/ get your stones back. You deserve your soul, just as we all do.>> His voice now has its old steel behind it, <<As I said, you will not walk alone if I can help it.>>

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Old steel, barely cooled adamant. The Soulsword is never in sight when casually wandering around, but can it ever be far when it resides within her? Those who would claim it in her death or rebirth might know it rests in physical form, but never outside her grasp when conscious, willing, alive. Illyana sees no need to drag it out now. <<He will suffer. I will not pull my punches, Piotr, not for what he let them do to me. What was done to our friends.>> Even in another dimension, another kind. Her fists clench and release, a cleansing breath pulled in and forced out. No, this is the way of the world. Not only cold vengeance but a damnable purpose ahead. <<To begin is the hard part. It is my place to figure out how they are, how to reach them.>>

Her shoulders stiffen slightly even as she contemplates the jagged shapes of a hurt so fresh the blood hasn't even welled to the surface. The cuts go deep, harsh and unforgiving, and they hold a certain fraction of fresh heat and pain together. <Someone held the shards of my self in their hands for safekeeping. I think I love them for it. But I cannot stay as I am, Piotr, when that is the truth.>>

Piotr Rasputin has posed:
<> Piotr says and nods, <<He is not someone worth trying to forgive or grant mercy to, he is evil incarnate,>> he scowls, <<Even I would try to kill him, given the chance,>> he slumps his shoulders, as she mentions someone holding her soul for safekeeping, <<Who is it, and must they suffer to return them to you?>> The elder Rasputin might not know everything, but he has his own concerns, especially after seeing Illy be so worried and hurt, <<So the next step is to get the pieces you know are safe and restore them to yourself?>>

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
<<He needs to die. It would be a mercy to end what he has caused. Belasco,>> she spits out his name, <<will never again hurt us.>> Us. Them. Him. The world. In Illyana's eyes, Belasco doesn't much matter in terms of victims because his blood running ends it all. Rarely does she speak of him, and never without that cool, precise tone. His shoulders tilting down bring her walking around in front of Piotr, facing him, small snowflake to great Father Winter. Snegurochka, in her blue t-shirt and her black pants, her sky-bright boots and that implacable, glacial gaze focused on him. <<Piotr, you do not understand me. How do I explain so you do not think I am about to raid a stupid tractor factory?>> Stupid tractors! They ruin everything.

Her hands rest on her hips for a moment, and she shifts that position, squeezing her fingers together. <<This person makes me better than I am, brother. I say they hold my soul... I mean they bring out the good.>> She struggles with it, trying to find the right terms. <<Someone I care about deeply. Please put your boots down. There are not the right words to explain because I do not know to talk about feelings like you do. What words fit? I can stab Sauron through the back and thinking about this makes me shake. It may never come to anything. But I have to be honest, and I have to hurt someone to tell them I feel this way but not for them.>>

Piotr Rasputin has posed:
Piotr nods in agreement at the proposed demise of Belasco, <> He says grimly, <<That must be done.>>

Then the topic shifts to Captain Oblivious' namesake trait, <<Ah. So someone who makes you better, but...>> he ponders and then nods again, <>

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Captain Oblivious is a sweetheart. He needs a hug, and Illyana, worn out beyond measure by having to be human, probably would like to revert to the Darkchylde and rampage through Jersey. It would make Jersey property values increase, at least. <<So that. Then my soul as we find the next bloodstone. They may be together, they may not. I am strong enough to make this dangerous in Limbo but no one would approach /me/ with that in Limbo. Lies on the lips of a priest or torments spoken on the mouths of demons have not told me yet where they are. If Belasco and the amulet are one and the same in location, but it is the latter I care about more than him. Vengeance later. Though taking back even one stone will shift the balance. Stop the dark ones from coming through.>>

She stares at her feet.

Piotr Rasputin has posed:
Piotr's concern is now plain as day on his face and in his posture. He frowns and says, <<Very well, then at least we have a goal. Tip the balance, and work towards getting the amulet. If we get the chance to defeat Belasco, it is icing on cake. >> He gestures putting icing on a cake. As she looks down at her feet, Piotr says, <<Illy, I believe in you.>>

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Illyana tries not to stick her tongue out. Really, but it's hard after so long a day. <> It's hard to explain, in truth, those words clotted up even in Russian. Cue a frustrated growl at the back of her throat. <<Everything is so /complicated/. Why do you put up with it and not farm? Aside from tractors being evil.>>

Piotr Rasputin has posed:
<<Because teaching allows me to share what I know a lot easier, also painting is much more relaxing, the portraits have certainly helped as well to let me get a chance to know our team better, and besides, who else would teach the students the most civilized of languages!>> Piotr says with a grin, and then gives a frown, <<I know if I said I believed in you that it won't change your mind right now, but I do. And yes, everything in life is complicated, but it is the way of things. My life is not simple, and there are anxieties of my own that I deal with, but I do what I can, and try and fight to make each day better than the last.>>

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Augh, he's grinning and frowning. He is confounding! Piotr, the man of moods more than one! What is she supposed to do with that? Snegurochka would throw a snowball but there is no snowball, so the best she can do is crumple up her mouth in a frown. Piotr is maddening. Simple, not simple. <<You paint and teach Russian. This is good. You cook, also good. But you deal with these anxieties how? Why is it that you all can... can be there, seeing people come together and shift and move on without knowing so much /hurt/?>>

Piotr Rasputin has posed:
Piotr listens and thinks for a bit, <<The truth is I hurt a lot. Seeing the others suffer when turned into dinosaurs or gorillas, when you were taken, when harm is visited upon the innocent, and when Boris decides to be a terror and adorable all at once,>> had to through in /some/ levity. <<I move on because I know that tomorrow has the chance to be better, or at least the hurt might be lessened if not removed. I go on because I'd rather be in a world with the people I enjoy spending time with in spite of the hurt.>>

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
<<I'm sorry.>> She has nothing better to say, looking up at him, frowning. <<I am sorry you hurt and I bring this to you because you have those shoulders bigger than mine. You move on, and you seem not to hurt so much. But there is wisdom. We go on. This will possibly change everything but I cannot hide away from a choice. Moving on to hope friends will still exist in the future. That we are enough.>>

Piotr Rasputin has posed:
<<It does not pain me for you to bring me this,>> Piotr gestures vaguely, <> He does nod though, <<We do go on, we fight. We are a hardy folk, both in mind and body, and in the knowledge that we are in this together.>>

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
<<We are Russian. No other nation knows how to bear the burden of life and to carry on when the others have given up. I was not there for the Great War. But I know. We endure. Our shoulders are big enough, our backs strong. The soil makes it so. I am alive, I think, only because of that.>> Illyana reaches down, scooping a handful of earth scattered with pine needles. <<Here, you see it. Not so thin here. Worn down by the great ice that came and went. But we have been ground to worse and still rose. I hope it will be enough for what is ahead. Not just those gorillas. But the hardest tasks we have.>> Slowly, she turns to Piotr, looking up to him. <<You do not think badly of me if I hurt someone else by being honest? To tell them I must take a different way in life and want to be a friend, but cannot be more than that?>>

Piotr Rasputin has posed:
Piotr nods, <<This I understand, we will persevere, like this soil, and come back stronger.>> He mock flexes. When Illy shifts the subject again he thinks, <<Better to be honest with them than to live a lie. Better to bring the truth to light instead of letting the issue fester and become worse. I do not have much knowledge in this field, though I bet that does not surprise you, but I do know that people generally prefer the truth, even if it hurts.>>

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
<<We are family and that will be enough,>> suggests the blonde. She sits down on a log and looks out at the sea again, so vast, so unlike Lake Baikal. It has sharks instead of cute seals and forgotten debris from a nuclear program. <>

Piotr Rasputin has posed:
Piotr nods to Illy and takes a drink from his water bottle, <<The future is unknown, we can only make our best guesses and pray for the best.>> He looks out to sea again, <<Sometimes we must cross it, because it is our only option.>>

1515/On the Beach...

Navigation menu

Personal tools

Namespaces

Variants

Views

More

Search

Navigation

Tools