1624/When Betsy met Bishop

When Betsy met Bishop
Date of Scene:	11 May 2020
Location:	Breakstone Lake
Synopsis:	Betsy and Bishop spend a nice afternoon shooting clay pigeons.
Cast of Characters:	Betsy Braddock, Bishop

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Betsy Braddock has posed:
It's a fairly quiet weekday afternoon (at least so far), and Betsy is out on the grounds. It seems that other than when it's raining/snowing, the purple haired psychic is found moving around on the grounds outside. Today she's finished her run, and is enjoying the cooler breezes by the lake.

Her hair is slowly snaking loose of the french braid it is in, curling and clinging to her gray sweatshirt that slips off one shoulder. Leggings are a deep burgundy, matching the stripes on her gray sneakers. Even when she's just working out, it seems Betsy Braddock can't help putting things together just so.

Her cheeks are flushed from exercise, making violet eyes bright. She pauses, arms lifting to give a long stretch and popping sounds emerge from along her back.

Bishop has posed:
The sound vertabrae popping. It's a thing that Bishop knows well, after waking up, after morning exercise, after a long patrol or a rough fight. It's the sound that brings him to slow his pace and pay more attention to who is about as he is making his way to lake side. Seeing Betsy, but still some distance away he calls out, "Good afternoon." he says in his deep voice, with an almost, but not quite british, to his accent due to the elucution he learned in his academy days. "Good day for a run." he says politely.

Bishop, however is not dressed for a run. He's in his old X.S.E. uniform, complete with the blasters resting in their over the shoulder harnesses, As he makes his way down to the edge of the water and starts setting up. A small collapsable camp stool that he's placing a small tablet on, all the while stacking some clay pigeons next to it. Interesting choice of accessories.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Betsy will turn and look. There's a blink, at the unfamiliar face, before she drops her arms, falling into pulled back shoulders."Good afternoon." Her accent is British, that crisp upper class sort of crusty touch to her tone.

She will watch him a moment. "And yoga." She responds, with a faint smile. "Are we needing to run patrols or such, and no one told me?" After all, who wouldn't want a powerful telepath with ninja skills on high alert if something was going on?

She will take a couple steps closer, head canting to the side just a bit. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I'm Elizabeth Braddock. But most often called Betsy."

Bishop has posed:
There's a smile from Bishop as he says, "Well yes, Yoga is the majority of my morning workout. You can't take a set of weights with you on a stake out." he pauses then as it just suddenly occurs to him he didn't comment on that outloud. There's a quizzical look until he takes a moment to process her name. "Ms. Braddock, It is an honor to meet you. You are a hero and a legend where I come from." Bishop explains, "My name is Lucas Bishop. Though I am generally just called Bishop as it serves as my handle as well."

The big man looks down at the odd set up around him and says, "I was going to try and combine target practice and research. Will this disturb your peace and quiet? I can move elsewhere."

Bishop has posed:
There's a smile from Bishop as he says, "It is always a good morning for Yoga. Perhaps you'd allow me to join you. I try to do so every morning. You can't take weights with you on a Stake Out after all." There is almost a bit of a star struck sparkle in his dark eyes as he is meeting another of his heroes. "Ms. Braddock, It is an honor to meet you. You are a hero and a legend where I come from." Bishop explains, "My name is Lucas Bishop. Though I am generally just called Bishop as it serves as my handle as well."

The big man looks down at the odd set up around him and says, "I was going to try and combine target practice and research. Will this disturb your peace and quiet? I can move elsewhere."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Certainly. I do it daily, inside if the weather insists, but I prefer it outside when possible. That whole earth energy thing." She smiles, making a little fun of herself. "No, weights don't travel well for such endeavors."

There is a slow blink as eyebrows lift. "I.. I beg pardon. I'm what? And where is it you come from?" There's a light trill of laughter. "I'm certainly no legend, and hero could certainly be called into question."

But she smiles, glancing at his things around him. "A pleasure to meet you, Bishop. And no, you won't disturb my peace. My yoga is already done for the day."

Bishop has posed:
Bishop frowns, "I am sorry. Because of.. well the strangeness that Xavier's Institute draws, I am used to people being fairly unsurprised when they meet me that I've gotten more familiar than I should be." He clears his throat, "I am another of the time-lost people that have found their way here. In the future that is my home, you are, very much, a hero."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"I don't mind the familiarity. I find it... a pleasant change from some people." There's a tsking sound. "We do seem to be collecting people that are out of their original time. I am sure we must seem old fashioned and quaint." Her eyes glitter with amusement.

"Well, that's a nice thing to hear. I don't want any details, though. Wouldn't want to mess with the time space...whatever it is Henry would call it. But you've found yourself here? And you have everything you need?"

Bishop has posed:
"Oh you would be surprised... the past is in, many ways, far more cosmopolitan than my home." Bishop explains. He kneels down and starts bringing up something on the tablet and stacking a mount of the clay pigeons on a rock where they will be in easy 'flinging' reach. "It's a pretty unpleasant place, and in my studies on how I got here, I have come to realize that the past I found myself in is very different than my own in many ways so... It's all a bit of a mess."

Bishop unhooks the two blasters from olver his shoudlers and looks to Betsy, "For instance, Genosha... where I came from it was never a place that became a haven for Mutant Kind. It was never anything more than a island nation of very horrible people with aparthied policies." He turns one of the blasters so he can hold it out handle first and asks, "Care to join me for target practice? Having a shooter next to me helps me work on blocking out distractions and drawing in my aim."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"More cosmopolitian? Great. So we screw it all up, is what you're saying." But her tone is light, playful. She watches him stacking clay pigeons, before she will make one lift up and just hover. "I can fling them for you, if you want a real challenge." There's a grin, that only gets wider when he's offering that blaster handle out.

"Well, I am sure this is different than the firearms I am used to. Not that I have need of them often." She is a weapon, herself, not to mention her other skills. Her hand will wrap around the grip without hesitation, violet eyes lifted to dark ones.

Bishop has posed:
Bishop nods, "Well what ever future you are in for, it is not my future, that much I am sure off. So this might be the time line that finally gets everything right." Bishop is trying to be comforting. It's a bit of a work in progress. "If you'd like to assume flinging duties to make things challenging I am very happy to cede such duties to you." Bishop says as he gives Betsy a quick run down of the operation of the blaster, where the safety is, where the beam strength setting is. THings like that.

"My plan to listen to a some podcasts while I shot, but perhaps you'd allow me to pick your brain instead. I am trying to understand Geopolitics as it relates to Mutants. I am having a very hard time reading the world especially with the references to 'Meta-Humans' which seem not precisely the same as Homo Superior mutation and.. I am sorry but so little of this makes much sense to me."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Perhaps. Though given the history of humankind, I doubt it." There's a wry little expression with that. "How difficult am I allowed to make it?" There's that light in her eye -not amusement, but challenge. She will pay very strict attention when he is explaining the blaster, the safety especially noted.

Eyes will lift from the weapon to the man again. "Geopolitics? That's a heavy subject. I'm currently trying to wade into the currants, in higher society and politicial waters. I'm also trying to get a true fix on what is what, and what is hot air." There's a smile. "It doesn't always make sense to me, either."

Bishop has posed:
"Ah.. well I have been listening to some podcasts that Mr. Guthrie recommended about Genoshan history, which I am trying to study up on. If you wish I can put it on. Though there I don't think there will be much high society history, at least until I get to the episode contrasting the the Magistrates with Magneto's Court."

Bishop checks his blaster and puts it on the lowest setting, plenty to blow appart a clay pigeon, "I like to consider myself a marksman. So I would say make it as challenging as you can, and I will cry uncle if I cannot keep upt."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"I admit my Genoshian history is lacking. Don't tell Lorna." Betsy jokes. "We can do that, or you can ask questions. If I'm that bad with it, you can turn it on." There's a quick smile.

She will smile, mimicking him as she sets it on the lowest setting. "Are you sure?" She'll ask, brow lifting. Three clay targets will lift up, before they're telekinetically flung like little clay bullets. Their trajectories are wild, up, down, left, right, crossing behind each other, and shooting heavensward.

Bishop has posed:
Bishop reacts quickly, and turns firing off 4 shots. The first three dial in his aim, and the fourth *just* catches the last clay pigeon before it ascends skyward. The other two escape though. Bishop holds up the gun and clears his throat, "Ok... so maybe three at once is a bit to challenging right this moment." he says trying to play it cool and then nods, "But lets try that again." And holding up the gun he gets ready to spend a lovely afternoon shooting clay pigeons with one of his personal heroes. Really it's a good day.