It's a relatively quiet Monday night in Harry's, but there are at least a few stragglers that meander about the subdued space. The silence of the shift actually has one of the waitresses sitting at the bar rather than waiting tables like she's supposed to. The yellow shirt and white aproned woman sits at the bar. Her legs cross at the ankles and her hands rest on the bar as she stares at the drink that sits atop its surface next to a very cracked pot from a plant that used to have a flower. Now it's just a green stick.
The bartender casts Kitty a long gaze, "Your plant's seen better days."
"Yeah," she returns with a wry arch of her eyebrows. "This morning there was a flower on there!" she points at the top of the now-flowerless orchid. "I swear!"
*
Ava is a little bit underdressed for the bar. And looks like she might be a little bit on the young side to be walking in, but she does walk in like she has a right to. Black, close-fitting jeans with knee-high boots and a dark green sweater are clean, just not going out wear for most.
She pauses at the hostess stand, looking around with a lopsided smile. "Sorry," she says, peering toward the booths. "Are you not open yet?"
*
Piotr blows in on a gust of October wind. He's got a satchel slung across his back, an artist's portfolio hanging off one shoulder, and an easel tucked under his arm. Not overburdened, though. He's huge, he could be carrying a pony under his other arm and not be slowed down.
He sidesteps Ava with a muttered apology, nods at the hostess, and heads on in. In theory, he shouldn't bother his girlfriend at work but… that's a theory. It's Monday night and it's slow so no one's going to mind if he settles here to work on the art he started earlier today.
*
The hostess uncertainly glances about the room at Ava's question, almost not convinced that she should seat the woman.
Kitty stares at the glass that she's been nursing. It's been a long day, and quiet at work merits nursing those nerves. It's only when the bartender clears his throat that she remembers her place here and what she ought to be doing when misinformation is being spread. Harry's is painfully overstaffed tonight, and Kitty would like to work the shift.
Kitty slides off the barstool, tugs the bottom of her yellow skin, and puts on a bright smile — the brightest she can muster — but the weariness in her eyes isn't easily banished. "Hello! Yes!!" she says almost too enthusiastically. "We are absolutely open! And ab-so-lute-ly happy to serve you." She plucks a menu from the seating pillar. She asks the other woman, "Table or bar?"
The large Russian man earns a much easier smile as he passes by. "Hey Pete. Coffee?" she asks idly even as her eyes train on Ava.
*
"Oh, hey, I've got choices, huh?" Ava rubs a hand at the back of her neck, looking around. "Bar's probably fine, no need to take up a table. It's weird to sit at a table alone, right?" It's supposed to be rhetorical, but there's the slightest hint in her voice as if she's really asking, quickly covered with a wave of her hand. "Bar sounds good."
She glances to Kitty's name tag, marking it, before she follows the other girl's gaze toward Piotr. "Boy. Room to get big once you get out of the city, huh?" she murmurs.
*
"Coffee, da. Thank you, Katya," Piotr says on the way across the room. He knows this place like he lives here — he kind of does, with how often he's here. He slides into a booth right near the bar and starts sorting out his things.
*
"All the choices in the world ~" Kitty virtually sings. She takes a single step backwards and emits a soft whistle before lowering the menu on the bar, just a few seats from where she'd just been sitting. "Yeah, I'm not much of a linger-alone-at-a-table kind of person," she shrugs. "Maybe if I had something to do," her eyes flit towards Piotr and his easel.
Her lips hitch up on one side and she asks Ava, "Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water?" She points towards the bar, "Wyatt makes a mean milkshake if that's more your speed — "
She, in short order, retrieves the coffee pot, and a mug for Piotr which is set in front of him. "Whatcha working on?" her gaze turns downwards and she casts him a tired smile. A glance is given to the table, "Need cream? Sugar?"
*
Ava's head tilts slightly at the Russian, ears perking. "Milkshake sounds great, actually," she nods to Kitty. "Chocolate, please." She slides up into one of the seats at the bar, reaching for a pack of matches as she settles in. She doesn't light any, but she fidgets with the pack, opening and closing it, running a thumbnail along the striking strip.
"Is there something big going on somewhere else in town?" she asks, curious. "Or just a slow night?"
*
"Everyone is recovering from the weekend," Piotr offers. "I think they start to get over the hangovers by Wednesday. By Friday, they have forgotten all about how badly they felt on Monday and they are ready to do it again. It looks like fun, but I don't think I could do it every week, myself." He's got a heavy Russian accent, which most people would find problematic, but the staff around here seem to take it in stride. Obviously, he's not the Red Threat. Or at least they don't think he is.
*
"Just black, please," he tells Kitty. "I think things are sweet enough in here already."
*
Kitty motions towards Wyatt who nods and goes about making the milkshake. With the restaurant this quiet tonight, there's no reason to waste energy heading back to the bar. Wyatt can hear her. No question.
Piotr's comment draws faint blush across Kitty's cheeks. "Black it is," she pours the coffee into a mug.
Piotr's reply towards Ava causes Kitty to nod. "Honestly? It's just a case of the Mondays. This is pretty much the worst day for customers. Especially lately." Her cheeks puff out irritably. "People just don't go out on Monday. We've been trying to convince the owner to put deals on Mondays… like wings or something, but," her tongue clucks and her shoulders shrug, "to know avail. So far. Anyways." Her lips hitch up on one side, "What about you? No Mondays?"
*
"That is some serious binge drinking," Ava smirks at Piotr. "And I've been living in the city. Although I guess maybe they just get more practice there, build up an immunity. On the other hand, it's…pretty much never a slow night there, so. Kind of forgot what it was like to be somewhere…quiet."
She turns the packet of matches in her hands, tapping each edge against the barter in an idle rhythm. "No Mondays for me. Can't really have Mondays unless you've got one of those nine to five jobs."
*
"Westchester is good for quiet." Piotr pauses to rap his knuckles on the table. "Knock on wood that doesn't change." He takes a long look at Ava, as if sizing her up. Maybe it's got to do with his sketchbook.
*
"I don't know," Kitty offers back, despite being at work, and probably, supposedly, working. "Sometimes we could do for some excitement around here. I mean, not the craziness that the city can offer," her eyebrows lift, "especially now."
Her hands rest on her hips and she wonders, "What kind of work you do? Not sure I'm much of a 9 to 5 person, but Mondays mean something. Even if I never really did the binge weekend thing." She shrugs. "Still don't. Ever. Not my thing."
*
"Kind of whatever I can get." Ava taps that matchbook again, an excuse to look down at the bar top. "I, ah. I do pick-up work at a YMCA in the city. Cleaning, mostly. Although today," she continues, sounding a little more cheerful as she looks up, "They sent me out here to pick up some donations for the sports programs. Supposedly some place was offloading some old fencing equipment, which is pretty great, because the stuff at the Y is falling apart. And you would think that's probably all right, except the padding is kind of important."
*
Piotr chuckles at that. "There's something I haven't done," he says, pencil moving over his paper quickly. "Can you see me as a fencer, Kitty? I think it would be like smacking someone with a toothpick. But it's good for the children to get any kind of exercise they can. Some of us are better suited to swords than others." He's amused at the idea of himself as a fencer, frankly. Kitty can keep the swords.
*
"That's fantastic! Kids need to learn to respect weapons. It's good for them! And absolutely good exercise." Kitty's eyebrows lift and she casts a sidelong glance towards Piotr, "Your sister though, she is pretty fond of sparring involving a blade. She's keen to teach me." The smirk that edges the sides of her mouth is undeniable. She squints at Piotr, "Yeah, I don't see you fencing, Pete. I mean, you're quick, but you're not exactly built for it. Not like others of us…"
*
Ava glances over at Piotr, smile quirking. «More strong like an ox than sharp like a razor?» she asks in Russian, turning her chair a bit to better face the pair. "We don't get a lot of donations of nice stuff like that," she nods to Kitty. "So our stuff's pretty beat up. And when we get a chance to pick up a donation, then the place is willing to foot the bill for a bus ticket to pick it up. And I know how to take care of it, so it's my lucky day."
*
«Yes, something like that,» Piotr says, laughing. "I think ox suits me, yes. I like to go slow, eat grass, stare at things. I was always fond of them on the farm." He's definitely an ox. "Where did you say you were collecting? We should see if we have anything the children aren't using anymore."
*
"Oh, I bet there's some equipment at the school that is available," Kitty agrees with Piotr. "I mean, it's not likely fencing equipment, but there's plenty that gets put aside over the years." She smirks, "I bet there's a — "
"Order up!" the milkshake is left on the kitchen window, prompting Kitty to tread away, meaning her back finishes the thought as she retrieves it for Ava " — bunch of baseball equipment that isn't used. When I was younger, we thought we were going to be the best team." Her lips twitch, "Of course, we had some unconventional methods of playing." She waves hand, "Just kid stuff. You know, making up rules, pushing boundaries, that kind of thing," like using powers to run through a baseman so he can't tag you.
*
Kitty returns with the milkshake that is placed in front of Ava. "Want anything else tonight?"
*
"Something or other academy," Ava waves a hand to the question of the school. "Beckman? Buckley? I'm supposed to meet them down at the bus station in a couple hours." The talk of other donations, though, gets her to perk up. As does the milkshake, which she slides toward herself like someone who's used to guarding her food. Someone who's trying not to look like someone who's used to guarding her food, but old habits die hard.
"If you've got equipment, I know the Y would be glad to take it," she says, leaning into take a sip of the milkshake and continuing around the straw. "I mean, I probably wouldn't be able to get too much more on the bus, but I could come back. I'm a little less strong like an ox," she smirks over at Piotr, belatedly reaching for a menu at Kitty's question.
*
"I could deliver it," Piotr offers. "I go into the city — and we have vehicles. It would not be any trouble. I would be happy to help out." He looks up from his work to give Ava a smile. If he notices anything about her behavior, it doesn't show on his face. He's good at that. "It always makes me feel better to know there is something to be done to improve things for people, whoever they are." He sounds remarkbly sincere and unselfconscious about that.
*
"I'd be willing to help! It'd be good to know a place we can take stuff too — " Kitty offers back towards the pair. "Sometimes the students just get too much of something for whatever reason. And while I have no actual authority, I'm pretty sure the Professor would want to see the equipment used. Somewhere. By someone."
*
"That would be pretty great," Ava says with a small smile, setting the menu back down. "I know the kids in the city would appreciate it. Keeps them off the streets, you know? I mean, not everyone's gonna grow up to be an Olympian or some kind of sports star, but at least they're less likely to end up getting wrapped up with gangs or something. Could I get a cheeseburger, please? That sounds really great right now."
*
"I suppose introductions are in order," Piotr says, getting to his feet. He comes over to offer Ava his hand. "Piotr Rasputin. Presently I'm at Xavier's Institute. The hours are odd and the pay is terrible, but at least there's an endless number of children running amok." He seems very good-humoured about it, which is good, because being that big and bad tempered would be a terrible combination.
*
"Excellent." Kitty grins brightly. "And good choice! The cheeseburgers here are awesome. And that's not a word I use lightly. From start to finish, they are incredibly appetizing. And super filling. I assume the french fries it comes with are fine?" She slips away towards the kitchen and calls through the window, "Burn one, take it through the garden, throw on some wax, and pin a rose on it!" She actually beams as she twists away from the window and back towards the others. "And Kitty." Pause. "Pryde. Kitty Pryde. Well. Katherine. But no one calls me that. So. Kitty." Grin.
*
Ava reaches out to take the offered hand, grip firm if still a little chilly from the milkshake. "Ava," she introduces herself with a flicker of a smile. "Ava Orlova. Nice to meet you, Piotr, Kitty." As she takes her hand back, there's faintest buzz of a static shock between the two. She winces, shaking her hand off. "Sorry, winter air. Rasputin?" she asks, changing the subject. "Careful," she teases Kitty. "That is an ill-luck name."
*
"No relation," Piotr says with a roll of his eyes. "Or so my father always insisted. I do not know, but it would be interesting to find out the truth. Unfortunately, poor Russia, her memory is not what it was, with all her troubles. I do not think we will ever know, at least so I could say there was nothing to it with certainty."
*
Kitty's lips hitch up on one side in a lopsided smile. "Only ill-luck if you believe in that kind of thing. And I don't believe in luck." She clucks her tongue. "So you're from the city, Ava?" Absently, she reaches for a cloth in the pocket of her apron and begins scrubbing at the bar lightly. "Been in New York long? I could live in the city one day. Maybe."
*
"Her memory is fine," Ava says ruefully. "Proof of any memories, that may be another issue." She grimaces, going back to her milkshake for another sip. Milkshakes make everything better. "Since I was nine," she answers Kitty. Which explains why she has no accent but speaks perfect Russian. "It's a big place, the city. In every sense of the word. People, buildings. The things that happen. Easy to get lost. Which is sometimes good, sometimes bad."
*
"Some of us have less luck than others at disappearing," Piotr says with a chuckle. "I have only just come to America recently. But I would like the city. I prefer it, it has better art galleries and I would like to be able to go without having to travel so far. I hope you are not lost, yourself, Ava."
*
"I've never lived in a big city," Kitty observes. "Small town Iowa to Westchester." Her lips twist to the side, "Anywhere else I've been was just visiting." Even if they were rather extended visits. She grins at Piotr, "I had no idea you'd like to be in the city. I mean, it makes sense," her gaze lifts to the ceiling, but I didn't know." She shrugs lightly.
The burger is called at the window and Kitty retrieves it and sets it in front of Ava, "Anything else I can get you?" A glance is given to the clock above the bar. "My shift is wrapping, so I'll be passing you off to one of my coworkers, but I'm happy to grab anything last minute for you…"
*
"I think before you can be lost, you have to have a place to be lost from." Ava reaches for the burger, flashing a smile at Kitty. "Thanks, Kitty, but I think this is already the best I've had in a while. And hey, thanks for sticking around and talking." She sips again, squaring off on her plate like there's a strategy to all of this. "I actually have only been to the museums once or twice," she admits to Piotr. "You know, they do the outreach thing sometimes. It's pretty cool, though."
*
"Company is good, whever we can find it." Piotr slides back into his seat. "We will be seeing you again, Ava. I think maybe it is not so much having a place to be lost from that matters, as it does to have people who know where you are. You cannot be lost if people know how to find you."