2013.10.09 - Why Did I Drink So Many

Returning to the room she shares with Kitty Pryde after her meeting with Jean by the lake, Rachel's feeling a bit more relaxed and a lot less driven than she was when she sought out the older redhead. Part of that comes from the message she got from Shift, telling her they've got a bit more time before leaving for Genosha than they'd expected, but mostly it's from the knowledge that she's done what she can to warn Jean about the potential danger that the Darkness present. Jean's own warning to her was as harrowing as it was unexpected, but now she knows what could be in store for her she's feeling pretty confident that she'll find a way to handle it.

With nothing else on her to-do list at the Mansion, Rachel resolves to do something other than sit around and worry about ancient evils and mad geneticists. Or at least, not in the less than stylish red hoodie and black leggings combination she threw on after her shower. Pausing on the landing outside the room, Rachel rests her hand on the doorknob and touches the psi-link she shares with Kitty Pryde. It's odd that it feels so comfortable in the back of her mind already, and even odder that it was so easy to forge between them. As if in some way it should have been there already, or perhaps already was, and just needed to be opened up. Rachel only muses on that because there's so little coming from the other end of the link, and she smiles to herself at the thought that the indistinct lump in the other bed that she saw on her way out is probably still there.

Rachel twists the doorknob and steps quietly into the room, her eyes swiftly confirming what she felt with her mind - the quietly snoring lump that's completely obscured by the covers doesn't seem to have moved at all. Shaking her head in amusement, Rachel sneaks over to her closet and swiftly changes into a high-necked vest top in shimmering dark green and a pair of extremely skinny dark blue jeans. Feeling more herself, Rachel digs around for just the right shoes - and discovers some suspicious scraps of suede and a broken-off heel with teeth marks in it.

"LOCKHEED! I'm going to SKIN you!"

Pain! That's the first thing that Kitty feels at the sudden loud, extremely impossible shout coming from the room. Pain. Confusion. And. "Oh my God." Illness. The bright light of the /mid/ day filters into the room with an almost blinding intensity. It's enough to send Kitty to fling the covers over her throbbing head. "SHhhhhhhhhhhhh I don't care if the Brood are attacking! By the love of all that is good and holy, do not make so much noise!" The covers are still up and over Kitty's head, leaving a moaning, groaning lump of a mutant ninja beneath. The trouble is, under such a condition, Kitty's not only feeling too warm, but her stomach is rebelling, in a most horrendous fashion. "Oh why... .. why did I drink so many.. Was I seriously trying to compete with Piotr and Kwabena..?"

All of this, sorry to say, occurs without Kitty really contemplating that she forgot to mention to Rachel that her newest (and best) shoes had been eaten by Lockheed. The dragon, for his own part, has left a nice new pair of shoes on Rachel's bed. Okay they were stolen from somewhere, and look to be men's shoes - but he did try. He is, also, for that matter, hiding under Kitty's bed, and lets out a soft 'yelp' of noise, scurrying further under the bed as he does so.

The covers are tossed from Kitty as she stumbles to her feet, blearily turning her gaze towards Rachel, hazel eyes bloodshot, face slightly red still, and a fairly loud gurgling note coming from her stomach, as she flings her feet onto the floor, and raises her elbow up to her eyes to deflect the bright light of the sun. "Rachel..?" She inquires, some measure of conscious thought finally coming to her.

Rachel had vaguely noticed, but then dismissed, the pair of men's shoes that had arrived on her bed while she was out, and provisionally blamed Doug for their presence. After all, having returned 'home' to find a Spider-Slayer had taken up residence in her room, a random pair of shoes should be nothing to worry about. She hadn't realised they were an early warning sign that not all was well inside her closet!

Having let out her yell of fury, Rachel spins around, intent on hunting down Lockheed, but winces a bit as the light through the window seems to send a jagged shard of pain right through her forebrain. It wasn't /that/ bright outside, she thinks absently to herself as she automatically raises her free hand to rub at her temple, but mere pain isn't nearly enough to distract her from her quest for righteous vengeance! And as Lockheed yelps, betraying his presence under Kitty's bed, Rachel's onto him. "There you are, you scaly little rat! What do you call this?!" She shakes Exhibit A, the chewed-off heel, at the little dragon accusingly.

Of course, this only makes him burrow back further into cover, but the furious redhead isn't going to give up that easily. "Oh no you don't! Kitty is NOT going to save you!" She tells him, her voice heavy with the promise of DOOM, as she drops to her knees by Kitty's bed and ducks her head down to fix Lockeed with a glare. A small vibration goes through the bed itself, as if Rachel was about to lift it off the floor telekinetically, Kitty and all!

Rachel, has, of course, been aware of the various moans and groans issuing from Kitty as she's been struggling back toward consciousness, but it's only when her room-mate's feet thump to the floor next to her that she's sufficiently distracted to actually glance up. And in that moment, it all clicks into place. The stabbing pain from the light. The dull ache at the back of her head. The slightly nauseous feeling. The half-heard mutterings about 'drink' and 'competing'. Rachel's fury is snuffed out like a candle as she looks up at Kitty. She smirks. Then grins. Then laughs. "Kitty Pryde, are you HUNG OVER?!" Rachel asks, enjoying the moment far too much. After all, now she knows what was causing her own discomfort, she's damped down the psi-link, and she's feeling just FINE. "You are, aren't you? That's great! What did you do, and who did you do it with? I want all the details!" Rachel scrambles upright and looks Kitty up and down. Finally a small amount of concern elbows its way to the front of her mind. "You don't look well."

As the bed actually begins to rattle as though it's going to raise right up, Kitty's swift to fully get to her feet, and not use the edge of the bed for support. She tries for a baleful gaze at Rachel in the hopes that the red-head will stop moving around so much, and further, stop being so darn /loud/... when Rachel finally does take note of Kitty's predicament, and laughs. The sound is like loud drum beats in Kitty's ears, as she moves away from Rachel, dropping into her computer chair with a womph of noise. Her hands find her ears, then when that fails, she just hugs her stomach tightly. *gurgle*

Lockheed, during this, has moved so far back against Kitty's wall, he's shuffling her items there in front of him. It's a vain hope, but a hope none the less. When Rachel takes note of Kitty, the dragon lets out an audible *phew*, as he takes the opportunity to scurry swiftly out from under the bed while Rachel's talking, and books it out the hallway, disappearing into the distance.

Kitty watches his progress with a raised eyebrow, before her gaze returns to Rachel. "Oh. M'fine. Or I will be; once I've had some plop plop fizz fizz, and water." She counters, squinting a bit more in the light, her steps draw towards the kitchen, leading Rachel with her. There's a pause, as Kitty realizes she's still in her Hello Kitty pajamas, but a shrug later, and she trounces through the halls, literally through the walls, and ends up in the kitchen.

By the time Rachel gets there, Kitty's got a glass of water bubbling away with the stomach calming fizz, and is flopped into one of the chairs, waiting impatiently for it to finish. Kitty's gaze flickers towards Rachel with a bemused expression, "Do you want the long story, or the short story?" The drink is downed in a few gulps, and a shudder, before Kitty lets out a quiet, *urp*, in an ever so undignified manner, and proceeds to rub her temple absently.

Rachel isn't entirely without compassion...! So there's a bit of concern in Rachel's eyes as her friend flops down in her chair and wraps her arms around herself, looking very much like she's trying to keep something /inside/ when it really wants to be /outside/. Despite the concern in her eyes, though, Rachel's also still wearing a very big grin, too. If she got left out of the fun, it's only fair she gets to enjoy the aftermath. Rachel's eyes sparkle as she pushes a hand back through her hair, only her worry that Kitty really IS about to barf keeping her from badgering her for the story again.

It's at this point that Rachel catches a furtively scurrying purple blur out of the corner of her eye. Her head turns, and immune to telepathy or not, the little dragon can probably feel the weight of Rachel's baleful stare upon him. She might be distracted by Kitty's self-inflicted plight, but he's clearly not forgiven yet!

Kitty IS far more interesting right now, though, so Rachel's attention is back on her as soon as she opens her mouth to speak. "Yep, you look fine!" Rachel says cheerfully, and snickers a bit at Kitty's proposed cure. "Keep thinking those positive thoughts..." Rachel says quietly, privately thinking Kitty looks a little too far gone for an instant remedy to her ills. Since Kitty's already making for the kitchen, though, Rachel falls in behind her, rampant curiosity winning out over the annoyance of being without shoes - at least until Kitty ambles through a wall and leaves Rachel behind. << Forget something? >> Rachel asks pointedly across the psi-link.

Grimacing at the inoffensive wall that Kitty vanished through, Rachel resigns herself to taking the long way, and walks into the kitchen not that long after Kitty does. She, however, steps immediately over to the counter and boosts herself up onto it to perch cross-legged. The floor's cold, after all. "I'll take the long story, and don't skip any of the good bits." Rachel says decisively, then raises an eyebrow as Kitty burps. "If you can keep that down long enough to tell it." She's so helpful, isn't she?

The only thought that Rachel will get at the mental communication will be something akin to, >> Grumphlespruglespitz. << Which can be translated to any manner of things, though most likely Kitty simply means, 'sorry about that'. Though she doesn't quite sound it.

As Rachel enters and plops herself up onto the counter, Kitty offers a lopsided grin. At least she hasn't lost her sense of humor. "Gracious of you." Is offered, with a soft sound, as Kitty scrunches down further into the chair, only to find that doesn't help, so she straightens again. A disquieted 'uhnph', echoes outwards, before Kitty continues to rub her temples. The fizz, as Rachel pondered, doesn't really help too much, but at least Kitty's not feeling like she's going to upend over the throne any time soon. It's just .. uncomfortable.

"Did I ever tell you about the hunky Russian X-Man who went off to do some International something or other?" Kitty inquires with a dreamy expression on her unguarded face, after all, this is /Rachel/. Kitty feels she can trust the red-head not to spill the beans, as it where. A quiet 'mmm' echoes again, as Kitty's mental image puts forth Piotr's form to Rachel. Insanely tall. Broad shouldered. Dark hair. Soul of an artist. A crazy moustache. (The last is given a mental scowl at, as the man didn't have that before.)

With a shake of her head, which causes Kitty's entire world to suddenly spin, and all other thoughts quieted as she tries to hold back. Another *gurgle* emits, before Kitty's got it under control. "He's back at the mansion now." She continues, sitting more comfortably back into the chair. "Returned last night, so he, Kwabena, and myself caught up on stories and tales as we drank. I wanted to go out to Harry's but both of them sort of wanted to stay here. Home. Y'know?" Kitty slurs the last, then recovers long enough to state. "So I had a few beers with them."

The amount, Kitty's not sure of. Her eyes skim towards the counter where the box of Logan's stash was at. It's long gone, maybe Piotr returned it. Or Logan came and got it. Kitty's not sure how many she had. "Anyway. We had a good time. Laughed. Drank. Told stories."

A whimsical smile plays about Kitty's features then, no matter how badly she feels still. "Piotr. I always had the tiniest of crushes on him, but was too shy to say anything. Not to mention he was a bit old at the time. Now though.." The thought isn't finished as Kitty's voice trails off.

Rachel grins back in answer to Kitty's ironic comment, and shifts a bit to get as properly comfortable as she can on the hard surface of the counter. While Kitty collects herself (to put it generously), Rachel's eyes settle on Kitty's now empty glass. She's not at all envious of what Kitty just downed, but she could use a drink herself.

Rachel smiles a bit mischievously and narrows her eyes a little, lifting Kitty's glass telekinetically and conveying it smoothly over to the sink, before locating it under the faucet and rinsing it out, all with just her mind. She doesn't even glance at the fridge door as it opens apparently of it's own accord, and she only glances back long enough to be sure that it's a can of Coke that she's levitating toward her waiting hand. She waggles it a bit at Kitty, silently offering to get her one of her own if she's ready for it, before pulling the tab. At least for that bit, she uses her fingers. Taking a drink, she settles in to listen to Kitty's story.

Hunky Russian? Rachel holds up her free hand and tilts it from side to side in a 'not sure, tell me more' gesture. Kitty's talked a LOT about people she knows, who she's often assumed Rachel knows, and Rachel can't keep ALL of them straight. What Rachel does not do, however, is interrupt. Not when she's seen that look in Kitty's eyes. And she's rewarded for her forbearance with a mental image of the hunky Russian in question. The image tingles with familiarity, like the name is on the tip of her tongue, but she ignores the feeling. Hunting through her memories is too often pointless for her to want to spoil her morning digging. "I'm not sure about the moustache." Rachel says critically, though she's not hiding her grin very well at all as she says it.

Rachel nods encouragingly as Kitty carries on with her tale, though the mention of Shift brings an unguarded look of surprise to her face. They'd split up, she didn't know he was back. And Kitty's said a few things now that Rachel needs to know about. "Hey, back up! What kind of stories?" She asks, almost suspiciously, before she relents and grins. "Home, though. That I can understand." She's hardly spent any time here, really, but it's still home to her. Funny how easily that happens. Rachel cocks a brow. "Just a few?" She asks teasingly.

It's all going so easily, so comfortably - at least for Rachel - that she's not expecting anything to happen. Or for it to be Kitty that throws the grenade. But it's just one word, a name, that does it. Piotr. It's almost like it's the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle slotting into place. The familiarity makes sense, now. She knows this man. After all, he's...

An image, an older Kate Pryde, and an older Piotr Rasputin with grey in his hair.

...Kitty's husband. Or was. Or will be. Or might... Rachel blinks, and focuses on Kitty again. "I think..." She says, "...that I don't believe how tiny your crush was. Just promise me you'll make him shave that thing off his face, OK?"

With a laugh, that causes Kitty's face to contort, as she rises up from the chair, grabbing a water from the fridge, instead of asking Rachel to get it for her. The bottle is opened, and several swigs taken, made sure that they stay down, before Kitty leans against the fridge door, turning to face Rachel directly. "Good, juicy stories." Kitty answers with a twinkle to her bloodshot hazel orbs, a wry smile on her features. Though she doesn't say anything further, nor does she even /think/ about them, utilizing the techniques that Xavier taught her in keeping her thoughts ( at least surface ) hidden.

Unfortunately, given Kitty's hazy mind, throbbing headache, and upset stomach? She doesn't succeed too good, the tale Kwabena told of how he was found by Betsy, sitting without a stitch of clothes on the toilet seat in the women's bathroom comes to mind - at least with a quiet chortle.

With a soft sigh, Kitty settles back into the chair, content to tell Rachel all the different tales she was told, if she can remember them all, at least. Yet, before Kitty continues - or finishes, she does agree. "The moustache needs to go, and .. I couldn't very well have a huge crush on him. He was my roomie's brother, it just didn't seem right. Now though. Now.. " Kitty's smile is wide, as she ponders the 'what ifs'. And then proceeds to tell Rachel the story that Kwabena told Kitty, even if he might not have wanted it told, which she does warn she isn't sure one way or another, and other little tidbits that Kitty can remember, of the night before. ..