1965-05-21 - Vodka and talks of betrayal
Summary: Yuliya goes to the mansion, talks with Dizzy. Things are discussed.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
kwabena yuliya julie 

It's been a while since Yuliya has visited the mansion, and checked in on the X-Men and the mutants. However the young Russian woman is currently in the rear garden, lounging away on the patio with a cigarette hanging from her lips. While she might be dressed in her usual corporate attire, her business jacket hangs from the back of the lounge chair. She's flipping through a French newspaper, while happily smoking away. A glass bottle sits beside her, and its contents might be water or something stronger.

Julie comes wandering out from the garage into the night air, lighting a ciggy as she meanders around, probably on the way to the kitchen, eventually, glancing up at the night sky as she goes, before coming around to the dimly-lit area. "Whoops. Hey, there. Hey, that you, Yuli?"

Sure, it's too dark to read, but that doesn't stop Yuliya from trying. When she hears Julie's voice she lowers the paper, and sits forward in her chair. "Da," she says. "Unless you tend to get more Russians sitting in the shadows, trying to read newspapers by starlight." She tilts head to the side for a moment. "Do you have any small glasses?" she asks. "I have got some in the van, but I am too lazy to walk at the moment."

Julie thinks. "Not on me, anyway. I think there's some juice glasses in the dining hall, though, if that'll do. Anyway, welcome back. I was starting to wonder where you got to."

Yuliya purses her lips and looks thoughtful. "If you grab some of those glasses, I will let you try something," she teases, almost in a sing-song voice. "Spaciba. Thank you. I have been busy. Well, trying to get up the courage to vanish." She frowns a little as she moves to rest her elbows on her knees. "It is harder than I thought."

Julie hrms a bit, there. "Sounds heavy, but you're on. Hold that thought it's harder than," she says, and makes her way in the patio door to slip into the dining hall, and emerge shortly thereafter with a small stack of nested, and upside-down, juice glasses, likely as she found them, and she sets them down on a patio table. "So, something about a vanishing act, maybe one you packed your dishes for?"

Yuliya leans forward to snag one of the glasses, and then the bottle. She pours a little bit of the clear liquid into the glass and then slides it towards Julie, before repeating the process for herself. With the bottle sealed and put back down, she raises her glass up, offering, "za fstrye-tchoo," before taking a small sip. "Like a vanishing act, but not taking dishes." She raises a hand up to the bridge of her nose. "I think, if I do manage to vanish, will they send people after me?" Her brow furrows. "Armoured vehicles I can handle, but others. Blyat."

Julie ahs, taking up the glass. Something perhaps equally-opaque in Italian is returned as a toast. "What, you mean, vanish from the Commies that been watching youse? Or everybody? Pretty sure between, say, me and Piotr, you don't gotta worry about other vehicles, tanks included." She has a sip of the vodka, …not something she usually drinks, apparently, by the way she seems to be trying to figure it out, by taste. She reaches for a wrist, though, and finds she's not wearing her watch. She closes her eyes, then, pivoting to point some particular direction, then raises her finger to peer at the stars. Glances back, "Maybe you better back up a bit and say what 'they' you're talking about, too, I guess."

"Uh, Julie, I was raised to destroy tanks," Yuliya offers with a soft laugh. "Vanish from Command, from the influence of the Soviet Union. I tried in Vietnam, but I just ended up going back." She purses her lips, and shakes her head. "Then again, I did have other people out for my blood there, too." She watches as Dizzy checks the time using the stars. "They? Them. The KGB. Command. If I was lucky, they'd just kill me outright. If I was unlucky, I'd end up being returned and they would either kill me or… I guess they could even find something worse." She sighs again, and then settles back, still holding the vodka in hand. "If I surrendered, then I'd end up killed. Most likely on the spot by SHIELD or the CIA."

Julie nods. "You didn't really mention how things worked out with our side, that way, I guess. Did you get any help that way, at all? I kinda thought you was more or less disappeared from the Commies, anyway. Not that I guess you could count on that."

"It was a bit hard to just come out with it," Yuliya offers to Julie. "Hello, I am Katyusha. I am an anti-tank assest deployed by and trained by the KGB. Do you want to be friends?" She laughs softly, before taking another drink. "I do not think that would help, da?" She takes a deep breath, and shakes her head. "If it was not for Able, I would have not even seriously entertained the thought." She shakes her head. "And nyet, I have not disappeared. It is funny, I am not scared of tanks, but to be honest, I'm terrified about taking the final step."

Julie nods, "Well, you kinda let on, except the name, remember?" She winks, has a good pull off the vodka. "The tank parts included, just sounded like you were worried about them catching you with something faster or something." She winks. "Besides, I think maybe we're already friends, kinda. Unless that all was just more spy stuff." She teases a bit, maybe. "Anyway, ain't a bad place to hide, here, we got ways of keeping certain trouble away. I guess, you stop checking in, what do the bad guys do next?"

Yuliya offers a nod of her head. "I only started to let on once I trusted you a bit more, and I found out you were friend of Able's, too," she offers with a bright smile. "He knew about me back in Vietnam. We've worked together, we've tried to kill each other." She offers a shrug. "It's complicated to be honest." She shakes her head. "I can respect people and be friendly without it having to be spy stuff." She purses her lips and then laughs, "Now if you were an award winning chef, I would have befriended you just to steal your recipies for my own personal use." She offers a nod of her head. "If I stopped checking in, they would most likely have someone monitor places I worked as well as where I store imported radios. Spies do go silent from time to time, though."

Julie laughs. "Well, you could tell em you been after my gramma's bolognese sauce for the Party or something, I guess. " She winks. "I mean, I do OK, they wouldn'ta let me outta the house if I couldn't, but it's not quite like she does." She nods. "Doc Able always did come off like a guy with an interesting life. Loves that car of his, though, we got along all right. Last place I expected to see him was here, though, I guess."

"He has changed a lot," Yuliya offers to Julie. "It's almost like he's two different people. The Able I first met, he was a lot different to the Able here." Another sip and she places the glass down on the table. "He's got soft since he came here." It's more friendly teasing from the Russian girl. "Oh, sorry. I am working on my French dishes at the moment, Italian will have to wait for a bit longer. Also, I have never had bol… Bologa. Buluga." She goes silent for a moment, looking a little frustrated at herself. "I cannot even say it."

Julie repeats the word 'Bolognese,' in a bit of a hammed-up fashion, in case Yuliya wants another try at it, and says, "As for French stuff, I can't really help you there. Maybe Sophie, dunno if she cooks, even, though." She pauses, and thinks. "Maybe he could help, though, somehow."

Yuliya does try, but only ends up laughing at her own attempts. "I am comfortable cooking some French dishes," she admits. "I try to learn dishes from each country I have been to. If it was not for cooking, I would have gone insane." She purses her lips. "Though to learn Italian or French cooking in American would be strange. But it would be better than American foods."

Julie smirks. "Most American food's something someone brought from somewhere else, mostly. It just changes, probably gets turned into a sandwich, that's kinda what America's about. But I guess I could try showing you a thing or two in Italian, that's half of where I learned the Old Country lingo." Sips a bit at the vodka.

"I would like to see them make borsh into a sandwich," Yuliya comments with a faint smirk. "Though kholodets…" she trails off, most likely considering it. "Next time I make kholodets, I will bring some past, and we will try it American style with two pieces of bread." She then offers a nod of her head. "I think learning Italian dishes could be fun."

Julie says, "Well, we'll see when it's one of our turns to do some cooking around here, I guess, whatever that stuff you was talking about is. " She thinks. "I mean, if you're planning to stick around a while, I guess. Maybe we can figure out some way to get those spies that could be after you caught or something like that.""

"Jellied meat. Very nice, well I like it," Yuliya admits. "Especially pork. You put the trotters in and boil it with the rest of the meat. You will like it. Takes a long time to cook though." She falls silent. "I will come past from time to time, but for the time being I will continue doing what I do so it seems like everything is normal." She takes a shakey breath. "I can think of things, but I do not know how bad it would end up." She looks thoughtful. "There is one person I know of that has gone rogue. Though I do no think approaching him would work, because I kind of like living."

Julie hrms. "Well, I guess that got you this far. I guess before you head off, though, maybe you oughtta talk to Jean. We got some contacts here that maybe could meet you, do something about it, I dunno."

Yuliya seems to consider the comment about Jean, and she nods her head slowly. "I think I will try to talk to her," she comments. "I know she's usually busy, and I do not want to take up much of her time." She raises up a hand and runs it through her hair. "As long as my father doesn't find out, I will be safe for the time being." She then offers a bright smile. "All I can do is try." She leans forward to pluck the glass of vodka up, and then the bottle. "I think I will go and see if she is busy."

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