1965-06-02 - Piotr's Day Out
Summary: Piotr's relaxing day at the cafe has him meet a pair of women unlike any he has met before.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
jennifer-walters piotr diana 

To say that Diana stands out while walking the street would be an understatement. For once, she stands considerably taller than most women at 6'0", and has quite a toned build as well. She's also dressed quite uniquely, wrapped up in a grey cloak with a hood pulled over her face. Almost like she was pretending to be a character from a movie. She moves like a tourist, looking at everything around her with wonderment.

Hell's Kitchen in spring is a good place for an artist to work. Especially when one is feeling down, such as Piotr is at the moment. The dilapidated buildings and cracked sidewalks make for a cantankerous surrounding which is just what the doctor ordered. Currently he's sitting at a small diner that has a few seats outdoors where he can enjoy the weather. There's a drink on the table and a sketch pad in his lap as he takes in the city…and a tall woman with a cowl. He stops drawing and follows her with his eyes, unsure of what to make.

Diana is surprisingly alert to very minute things, a side effect of her upbringing, which she likely shouldn't share with anyone if she doesn't want to be placed in a mental institution. Either way, she spotted Piotr doing the most unlikely of things, and so stops to take a moment and look his way in turn. Eventually, she approaches and inquires, "are you an artist?"

Piotr's head tils as he takes Diana in, unsure of what to make of her. He's never seen anyone quite like her to be honest. "I am," he says with a thick accent. His frame is very large, overtaking the small chair he sits upon. "Though not for money, really. I am a teacher." He nods to her, looking at her cloak. "What about you?"

"That is a rare but most noble profession," Diana remarks, before edging even closer, "mind if I have a glimpse of your work?" Tilting her head as she considers how to answer his question, she eventually offers, "I advocate for women's right, and those less fortunate."

"Noble and rare as well," Piotr responds as he slides over his sketch. It's very dark and the angles of the buildings take on a sharper look, almost gothic, but it is somewhat a representation of the neighborhood in which they both sit. "My name is Piotr. If you would like to stay, I should offer you a drink."

"Sadly, I must concur," Diana nods her head bitterly, "but there is improvement, little by little," she offers with an optimistic smile. A rather glowing, charming one at that. The sort of a trained diplomat, though in her case it has more to do with training for handling herself in a royal court. She takes a look at the sketches with sincere interest, "you've remarkable eye and hand…these are very lifelike!" When he introduces himself, she repays the same, "Diana. Pleased to meet you Piotr, I'd love to join an artist!" She helps herself to a sit at his table.

"They have all sorts of coffee or soft drinks," he replies absently as he slides the menu to her. "I am pleased to meet you as well, Diana. Forgive me. I do not mean to pry, but you seem to also be a foreigner to this country. Am I correct?"

"You would not be wrong," Diana offers, her smile never waning, as she reaches to look at the menu, before her eyes light up, "I think instead of a drink, I shall have the wonderous ice cream. Have you ever tried it?" The question itself might be a bit odd, but the enthusiasm in her glinting eyes shows a sincere devotion to ice cream.

"I have," Piotr says with a smile as he calls over the waiter. "I am from Russia, as you may or may not have figured. Specifically, the area near Lake Baikal in Siberia. You do not have ice cream where you are from? That is unfortunate."

"It is, is it not?" Diana ruefully agrees with Piotr, not quite volunteering where she's from, as it wasn't explicitly asked for, "I have been to Russia before," she notes, "brave men and women, who will do as they must, I admire that quality."

Piotr cannot help but grin, "Well, brave perhaps. Do as they must? That's a necessity for farming in that part of the world." The orders are taken care of quickly. "Why did you come to America?" he asks, bluntly.

"Do you not just need to have a quick look at this country to understand that answer…?" Diana inquires of Piotr, laughing quietly at the very question, "why are you not in Russia at this very moment? I trust it must be a similar reason?" She has no way of knowing, after all, just how complicated a man's life could be.

There's a bit of a chuckle from the Russian as he thinks about her comment. He came here at the request of Xavier, and sometimes the hustle and bustle of the United States come at him in a dizzying way. Why isn't he in Russia this very moment? Perhaps that's what has him in that funk he was in when she walked up to his table. "It is a nice place, yes."

Jen Walters is obligated to duck a little to get into the cafe. She probably has to do that a lot, though, in life. Wearing a conservatively cut business jacket and matching skirt, the green-skinned giant would probably blend in with most of the corporate crowd if she weren't in Hell's Kitchen.

And, y'know. Massive.

She gets up to the front of the queue fairly quickly and flashes a smile at the waitress, digging out a billfold from her purse. "Can I get a cup of coffee, please? And a crueller, if they're fresh," she adds. Money changes hands and Jen moves to find a chair, obligating her to make way for the hurried departure of the Amazon princess as Diana abruptly leaves in the company of— presumably— another Amazon.

"…Was that Wonder Woman?" Jen asks Piotr, giving the Russian a curious look.

Piotr doesn't have any idea who Wonder Woman is, and automatically assumes he's lost something in translation. She definitely is wonderful, "No, I mean. I don't think so." His blue eyes look up to Jen. "Hello," he says to her in a friendly way.

Jen flashes a polite smile at Piotr, catching his accent. "Nevermind— just, a, uh, bit of a celebrity," she says, cautiously. "Sure looked like her, though. Are you visiting the United States?" she says, making a quick assumption about the fellow. She shifts her purse a little to remain on her shoulder while she speaks, her posture polite but carefully neutral.

The remark seems to surprise Piotr—he had no idea she was a celebrity. "Well, an extended stay. I took a job as a teacher so I will be staying for some time." He looks up at her, "I take it you are from New York?" It is a hunch based on her take charge demeanor.

"Nope, Los Angeles," Jen remarks, with a rueful smile. Her posture relaxes just a touch more when Piotr mentions being a 'teacher' and 'extended stay'. She seems to take at face value that he's on the up-and-up. "It's a lot like New York, except much sunnier and a little less over-developed," she says. "And the air quality's better."

She sees her food come up and moves to pick up both, returning to her spot near Piotr. Seems there's not anywhere to sit for the moment. "Where are you teaching at, then?" she inquires of him, curiously.

"A school upstate," Piotr says before motioning toward the chair at his table. "What about you? I have heard of Los Angeles, but I have never been. I hear it is nice."

"Well, New York's okay, but it's not home," Jen says, diplomatically. She accepts the offer and seats herself at the table— the chair creaks alarmingly but holds, and she crosses her legs at the knee out to one side so she doesn't bump the table with her knee. "But it's warm and sunny, and rent isn't quite so bad. I imagine it'll be a lot like New York in a few years though— seems like living by the Bay is getting more and more spendy." She sips her coffee, then makes a face and piles cream and sugar into it with a healthy disregard for carbs. "So what brings you to America originally, then? Family? Or just looking for work?"

"Looking for work," Piotr replies as he takes a sip from his coffee and shrugs his shoulders. "You are only young once, afterall. What about you? What brings you all of the way across America?" He leans back in his own chair and holds his coffee in his lap as he looks to the woman. In all of his times to the city, he hasn't met a pair of women as interesting as Diana and this Jennifer.

"Work," Jen says in the same tone as Piotr, smiling at him. "I got my JD from UCLA in Los Angeles and needed to stretch my legal legs a bit. I got headhunted at a bar association meeting by a criminal defense firm here in New York. They're doing a lot of really important work for the mutant community, and figured" she gestures vaguely at her green self "I'd be a good fit for it. So it's mostly pro-bono work, some volunteering as a public defender, and once in a while I pick up some client who made a few dumb choices and needs to throw money at it until he's paid a debt to society."

"Really," Piotr says, seeming to be surprised by her response. "So you're a lawyer for mutants?" He tilts his head, about to say something and then catches himself. He pulls his mug back up to his lips to cover.

"Well— not /just/ for mutants," Jen says, hedging a little. "I defend anyone. But mutants are pretty badly underrepresented in the judicial system. Lots of protections that people take for granted aren't extended to them. New York's pretty progressive, but get outside the boroughs or head into the outskirts of Jersey, and it's better to be careful. There's a lot of discrimination that happens and some of it /is/ perfectly legal. So I try to help win those fights where it might be a little too one-sided."

"I agree with you on that," Piotr says, considering his words carefully. "I don't suppose you have a card in case I ever get in any sort of legal trouble." The mug goes back to the table.

Jen digs into a side pocket on her purse and smoothly produces a card without needing to dig for it. It's a fancy business card, too— good cardstock, deeply engraved ink, and subtle gold leaf. 'Jennifer Walters, JD, Attorney-At-Law, New York Bar Assoc.' is laid out in clear type. On the back is her firm's address and a business phone number.

"I gotta warn you though, I'm not much of an expert on immigration law. Yet," she says, correcting herself. "I don't like losing, though. But if you run afoul of something, give my firm a call. I can help you post bail before lunch the next day."

Piotr holds the card between his fingers as he between it and Jennifer. "It is a good number to have." His eyes scan it over again, "Thank you Jennifer Walters." His card goes into his pocket and the mug back to his lips for a final sip. "I am afraid I am due back for a meeting, Miss Walters. I am very glad to have met you."

Jen smiles at Piotr again, and stands up when he does before offering him a surprisingly gentle and polite handshake. "It's very nice to have met you too, mister…" she blinks. "You know, I didn't even ask your name? Rude of me," she says, laughing apologetically.

"Piotr," he responds with a smile. He reaches down to the artwork Diana was inspecting and gathers it. "I pray I don't need your legal advice, but should I—I will be sure to give you a call."

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