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Pietro was not one for manners, or social, or doing anything even close to 'normal'. Having lunch was no different and so it was sitting on the patio dining of Cafe Wha? looking across the street to an empty lot where they were maybe breaking ground for a foundation for a new installment. The footprint looked done at least. FOr what it was worth the albino fit in withthe locals. He had a way of doing that, and maybe it was achieving confort, or natural adaptation, or that's what he lifted to adorn himself in but today was a casual day and the sun was shining so there's that.
A nearby alleyway makes the best arrival point for a Gate to open — pardon, stray cat who yowls and takes off with a startled clatter — and then out steps Strange onto the sideway about half a block down from the Cafe. He looks incredibly civilian today, not even deigning the dress-wear that he usually sports about the Sanctum on "days off". It's a polo shirt in indigo-blue and cream slacks for him, even sandals!!! Must be warm enough for them and given it's June in New York City, there's little doubt of this when the sun shines down.
A discreet wave to the silver-haired speedster before he calls out, within polite earshot, "Pietro, hello. Kind of you to invite me to lunch." He grins as he pulls up a chair and sits to scoot into the table. "I appreciate you paying for it too," he teases with a wink before sighing and seeming to settle in.
Pietro looked up and lifted his coffee in salutation with a half smile to his brother-in-law. Thi was either a sign he was jsut finally comfortable in accepting Stephen as family, or a warning to start asking one's self 'oh now, what am I being set up for now?' Way-too-pale eyes looked back to teh people setting up caution tape on little orange road cones around the construction site. "I thought I would invite you over for meal, but there was small snag in plan. Still, is good to see you. You have been well? Earth is here still sooooo that that I say good job." As many languages as he spoke to blend in that accent of his was not going anywhere without some serious effort.
"I understand," Strange replies. He pauses as a server shows at their table, dressed in what could be construed as a uniform due to the white apron about their waist, and of course, the Sorcerer orders tea — iced, please, loose leaf, their darkest blend, and some honey on the side. No honey? Then sugar, not the packeted kind. Any order Pietro puts in is taken as well, along with all questions as to sides, addendums, etc, and the server departs with a jovial if customer-service-friendly smile.
He then continues. "It's good to see you too. Yes, Earth still stands. The sun still rises and sets and no demon is cavorting about Coney Island and upturning the ferris wheel. Nothing terrible has happened of late…though my definition of 'terrible' is probably skewed from the average. Imps are a regular occurrance still and restless ghosts in graveyards continue to haunt. I still haven't caught that damn unicorn running around Central Park, but no real harm's coming of it gadding about. I thought I'd shooed it away months ago, but…what do you do." He lifts a hand in a shrug and drops it to his thigh.
Pietro commented idly, "Well technically the sun does not move…much." To the waiter he placed his order for what fit in the constraints of what he kept as a close to kosher, and definiately vegitarian diet for the most part. When he left Pietro squint in amusenet at the tribulations in catching a unicorn, "What you can do? Call me next time. I very much wish to catch one. Seems fun, actually. Either come find me to hunt unicorn or if you have day off I am looking for apartment. You are welcome to join me."
"Looking for an apartment?" Strange frowns as if mildly confused, but doesn't seem to linger on it. "What part of the city are you looking at? I'm sure your sister might have suggestions as to the better parts. You know well enough how her hobbies include hunting about the darker and unsafe neighborhoods…for good reason," he amends. "She'd be a good barometer on that."
He can't avoid the small smile, apparently, as he adds, "Unless I'm overestimating you, you won't be able to catch the unicorn, Pietro. It's lingering around the Park again for a specific reason. Are you aware of what lures a unicorn?" He twiddles his thumbs in his lap out of immediate sight beneath the table and tries very hard to avoid looking like he's going to enjoy the answer he gets.
Pietro grinned in amusement and laughed shaking his head, "Am well aware, and I didn't mean to lay hands on it. Besides, I am not neeing to be bait. ONe cna lay careful trap and chase it into it using evasion against them. Is what comes with chasing foxes who think themself far too clieve when really," He squint lieaning over the table tapping his temple, "The game, like chess, is not about tools, but playing your opponent. And I have apartment. Am looking for it." He pnodded to the vacancy in the lot across the street. "Was there before I left for Nova Scotia last week. Very good fishing. You should go. But, alas, I return to… this."
"Believe me, I know all about chess." Cue the smug expression. Strange's tea arrives, the glass already glistening with condensation, and he thanks the server. The server hands off Pietro's platings and drinks as well before disappearing back into the Cafe once more. A sip finds the iced tea satisfactory and the Sorcerer spoons in one teaspoon of gleaming white sugar. The quiet tinking of silverware on glass continues beneath his thoughts.
"I've decided to let it continue running around for now. No one will be able to catch it and if I stop hearing of it, that is reason enough to check in. What were you fishing for in Nova Scotia then? It seems awfully far north for any type of game fishing." He glances up at Pietro. "Not sport-fishing?" he asks in mild disbelief.
Pietro boggled at Strange, "Far away? Is like twenty minutes on casual day!" For him. Sure. Now he was grinning. In spite of the world being generally inhospitable to him he did enjoy the hell out of his gifts. "Yes. Fishing among other things. We have people up there. I still keep in touch with them. A people are a thing one does not walk away from. I heard they were having difficulty, so I go look. We set up camp, take care of problem, fish. Is good. But now?" His arms went out towards the blank space across the street, his fork twirling in a small circle, "I come home, or to where home should be and whole building is gone. So now? Now, we eat." He paused and squint to Strange, "Well… I eat. You get to watch me."
Strange hides most of his grin behind his glass. Truly, 'far' is a relative term for one who can travel thousands of miles with little effort. He listens and nods, approving of the kindness and aid given by the speedster.
"I'm not bothered," he says, "I watch your sister eat all of the time. I'll snack later, once I'm home again. The tea will tide me over. I've never tried sports-fishing," he then admits, dark brows rising thoughtfully. "What did you catch up north?"
|ROLL| Pietro +rolls 1d20 for: 17
Pietro grinned enjoying the afternoon in spite of apparent building theft. "Eeeh we catch a few things. Perch and trout? Very good up there." He shifted in his seat part sideways leaning forearms into the table. His hands came up roughtly two feet apart taking a break from his regularly scheduled aloof bullshit getting waist deep into the story, "Good size too, about Hmmmm maybe this big? Da? Da. When we were little children, and of course much better than other children as is case, winters cutting through mountains in Romania? Around the Baltic? Very hard. Still when spring comes was great because fish all come back to come do their thing. You want to wait a little bit so they don't get scared off, but so many. Nothing tastes better than abundance of fish after four months of eating bark." For how terrible it all was he smiled, "Always love late spring."
Strange returns the grin with comfortable ease. "I'll have to speak with your sister about whether or not she'd eat any fish we caught if I went up there to throw a line in after these mythically-large trout. I remember catching crappie out of the small lake that's a short drive from the house I grew up in." His smile fades into a bruised reminiscence before he seems to come back to the present, making eye contact with Pietro again. "Late spring makes me think of all of the animals around the farm and their offspring. Chicks, kittens, a calf once or twice over the years."
Pietro actually warmed up a grin at thshareback arching an eyebrow, "One time I remember telling Vassu, Bruother of mother, that next time we fight the Circle, I ride cow into battle. Sadly I never get opportunity. I had big plan, da? Ride cow, but very quickly hop off cow, do many things to upset maaaany many people, then! Get back on cow. Tell them all, is magic cow. Then? Then see about trading for as many beans possible." He eased back in his chair and said with a wry grin, "You know what Vassu say? He say, 'Pietro, go finish feeding cows and then go get that chicken back'" He picked his fork back up and nodded slowly, "I miss that man. Farm. Is hard life, buuuut is good life. Teach you how to take care of many things, and how to, hmmm, become very allergic at those that do not." He took a few more bites of his salad, and around his tomato offered, "We should go fishing. Is okay. I won't tell anyone you stop doing that thing with your brow for whole weekemd."
The chuckling isn't very loud, but true enough. Strange lifts his glass of ice tea in a salute to the tale. "I've never ridden on the back of a cow, but I did learn how to hold my saddle on a quarter-horse. Silver. He was a sorrel, nothing pretty, but quick and steady. Whenever we had one of the milking cows get loose, I'd ride him out and bring the cow back."
He glances over at a sudden sharp sound, but it's only someone slamming a car door down the way, unhappy with how slowly the taxi traveled on its route. "It wouldn't matter, however, if you didn't tell about this proposed fishing trip. The gods would know," and he sucks on his teeth in passing. "There's always a Gate, however, overlooking whatever lake you think would be best to cast. We could sit in Loft, drink tea, and still fish. The breeze would still blow in off from the trees. It'd be a vacation, in a way."
Pietro seemed satisfied in the odd turn of the afternoon. The grin hung easily in place and he just shook his head, "We should make portal and go. But maybe thi s time above lake, not in it. Very messy." He did not elaborate on why this needs to be specified or why he had the 'never again' tone. "What is funny to me is you look up and down street. The people that come to these cities work so very hard to make the money to leave, but then never do. Why not move to countryside to begin with instead? I do not know."
"I look up and down the street because not everything in this city is kind. Or satisfied with making a simple wage." He scans the other direction just in case and squints; behind his dark lashes, his irises light up with the Sight. Nothing appears to be of interest or concern given how he seems to relax once more in his chair. His fingertips do a tapping run along the glass resting on the table within his grip. A blink and he looks to Pietro again with plain steel-blue eyes.
"Some people are not born for the countryside. They weren't raised there, as we were." Strange nods in acknowledgement of a facet of solidarity. "Some creatures who call this place their home would prefer the countryside, but find their hunting more satisfactory here. Not everyone wants to leave. But, there are resorts, and I remember a good portion of the neurosurgery ward as well as hospital staff who absolutely made enough simply to leave the city." He sips his tea again.
Pietroate his food while Strange did strange things and muttered around the salad, "Well to be fair I was not raised here at all." He considered it and shook his head simply stating, "I could do neurosurgery. I am not saying I know how to, but chould. WHat it requries that I lack? THe will to spend 75 percent of all of my time in one room. How you did this? I don't know. THat is endurance skill that cannot be taught."
"Hmm," and Strange shrugs with a little tilt of his head. "The ability to perform a ten hour-long spinal surgery can be taught, in my experience. Patience. Concentration. Willpower. The knowledge to know which nerve to attach where…steadiness of hands." He pops his lips and smiles coolly. "Some of which I've left behind for relatively better things. Relatively," he repeats, almost as if attempting to disuage himself from the momentary pique of memory.
"You should come over sometime soon, see your sister," he offers after finishing off his glass of tea. "If she happens to be out of the house when you arrive, well then…I suppose there's fishing." Teeth flash in a bright smile before he seems to smooth out again, all decorum.
Pietro chuckled and shook his head, "Forever is five minutes to me. I don't think knowledge always is equal to execution. But Funny haha aside? Eh I can appreciate this whivch you do. NOW maybe it is we call her office and maaaaaybe we have them keep her busy? We sneak off to lake, she comes home, eh… we still get angry look but is worth it. I can't help it. She knows me too damn well."
The silver-templed man waxes thoughtful in passing before one side of his mouth dimples.
"Orrrrrrrr….we could skip both the 'angry look'," and here Strange executes quotation marks with his free hand, " — as well as the potential risk of angering the gods that I call my patrons and simply fish from one of the doors in the Sanctum. I truly believe this is the happy medium that we're searching for. You provide the poles and bait, I'll provide the ambiance and the tea. Sound like a plan?"
Pietro unfoldes his arms and offered a hand out in a shake, paused, and instead patted Strange on the shoulder. He wasn't going to draw attention to teh 13,000 pins in his hand and apparently respected that it might just not be comfortable or preferable. "Is good. I think gives new meaning to fishing hole. Hilarity and lunch can ensue. Tell me, these gods of yours they let you go riding because I can bring you a horse to the house."
The Sorcerer's attention flicks from the outstretched hand and then to Pietro's face. A layer of the distant formality seems to shed at that very instant, when he realizes precisely why the speedster changed his intent, and it takes stress from the older man's face. At the corners of his eyes, crows-feet show in a crooked little smile.
"Every once and a while, I find it easier to attend upon an issue while on horseback, yes. Bring a horse to the Sanctum though? How?" He's desperately trying to keep from appearing overly-interested and asking after precisely the breed, color, gait, etc. Memory reminds him that Wanda herself professes a keen knowledge of the gypsy steeds.
And where Wanda's knowledge went, so did Pietro's. THere was that look htough that did not go unnotices by those pale grey eyes. Pietro saw it; that very childlike element of someone that still had things theirown they were passionate about. The shoulder got a final pat and PIetro, undaunted, answered, "Pleanty of ways. Worry you not. And if Wanda makes us all tiny again we can race them."
A little snort and Strange squints, shaking his head slowly in mild rebuke.
"You two are definitely related," he mutters before tilting the glass to his lips to chase what melted ice and tea remain at its bottom. A soft clink announces its return to the tabletop. "And no one will be returning anyone to childhood. That's a nightmare in the making. Don't give her ideas," he adds with a finger pointed at the speedster. Tsk-tsk.
Pietro says, "Awww but then we can make BIlly and Tommy tiny again so you don't miss out. WHic," He grinned wyrly and with smug satisfaction picked up another cherry tomato., "Happy belated Pater's Day." And with that thrown back into Strange's very… him paradigm, the speedster just grinned as if the world waited patiently for Pietro to get to remind Stephen of this. Life was good sometimes."
"Hmph. Thank you, Pietro," and Strange rolls his eyes mildly. "I appreciate the boys as they are, thank you very much. They're a handful as adults. I'm fairly certain that I don't need to experience them as children." He's absolutely certain to not let an inkling of the tiny flicker of undying curiosity streak show about himself. Anywhere. Nope. No tiny children running around the Sanctum. Chaos. Nooooooo way.