From Russia, with Love [Warren first]

[Nikkolas Blagetovich]

So much went on in the pass hour, so much. Pressure was just building, and building in Rasputin's mind like a damn giving way to the river. If his mind wasn't in shambles as it is, Josh and Warren kept questioning his motives, and other things. They looked like they were beginning to understand that Rasputin was mentally unstable at the moment.

"Well, then, can you tell us what, precisely, you were sent to do?

A little more pressure began to build up with each aching question. Though it was a very good question now, Rasputin didn't have an answer anymore. In a very deep, dark, agitated tone, "I told you what I know. I was sent to make you pay for what you did to anger Magneto. The word pay no longer has a clear definition for me, though I don't believe he'll see this as 'paying' for what you did." All of a sudden Rasputin sounded calm, and with a better grasp on what he was going to say. With as quick as that came, fear engulfed him.

“What is it you were sent to do? You keep saying your goal was to make us ‘think twice’. Well, we did before, we definitely will in the future.”

The damn had finally broken, all blocks that Rasputin had were broken and his emotions were not of his own choosing anymore, he was almost like everyone else. He needed a fellow psychic or someone to help him. He did too much to himself trying to tame his power, and it had scarred his mind.

Fear seemed to be the most powerful emotion for him at the moment. The thought of going back to Magneto without fulfilling his mission set him into a convulsion of freight. He took a deep steer at Warren picking up a pen that was on the table, "You don't know what he's capable of! You angered him, now you must pay for it, I must pay for it!" He yelled, "You don't know how much of problem you caused!" As he was yelling at Warren, he was pressing the pen deep into his hand. Blood began to gush out of his hand. He looked down at his bloodied hand, just steering at it.

[Warren Worthington III]

Warren’s bewilderment grows as Rasputin seems to have a full-fledged nervous breakdown right in front of him, then becomes outright anxiety as his erstwhile assailant begins bleeding all over the table. He takes a step back, uncertain of what to do, uncertain of what’s going on.

For a while he’d seemed willing to cooperate, even helpful, up to a point. Now, it’s not even clear he’s able to cooperate… he seems under constraint, or perhaps freeing himself from constraint, or maybe just completely out of control? Is he even Magneto’s willing agent in the first place, or was he being compelled?

Whatever the reason, negotiations have obviously broken down, and Warren feels completely at sea. A moment later, that goes from being a simple metaphor to a perceived reality, as the corporate boardroom disintegrates to reveal a broken-down boat in a canyon rapid, rocky walls shooting skyward to either side of them as they careen past, dragged along by the speeding current.

"Oh, Lord…" he mutters, automatically shifting his weight to maintain balance as the boat swerves drunkenly along the river’s curves, "… sorry, guys, I think this one’s my fault." Warren’s losing patience, and suspects the river is going to go over a waterfall some time very soon. "Anyway, this has gotten ridiculous. Rasputin, or whatever your real name is, I’m sorry we upset your boss, but that’s in the past. Right now you’ve got two choices: do something if you’re going to, or get out of my head. If you need protection from Magneto, we can talk about that after we're all back on solid ground. So, which is it going to be?"

[Nikkolas Blagetovich]

"Oh, Lord…"

Oh Lord was never something good when someone said it. It meant that something surprising had happened, or that someone was royally screwed. No later then the words slipped out of his mouth, the scene had changed...again. Now, into what seemed to be a broke down boat, in a canyon of some sort.

Rasputin didn't even know what to say to the change in climate, at this point it meant very little to him. Rasputin took a quick look around, before diverting his attention back to Warren and Josh. He was tired of what was going on, he just wanted to breath for a moment. Everything went so terribly wrong, things would have to change for Rasputin.

Anyway, this has gotten ridiculous. Rasputin, or whatever your real name is...

Those very words made him think to himself for a moment. My name... He looked at his bloodied hand, steering at it. "Nikkolas...that is my name." He squinted his eyes. "Nikkolas Alekzander Blagetovich..." he looked puzzled for a moment.

"Right now you’ve got two choices: do something if you’re going to, or get out of my head. If you need protection from Magneto, we can talk about that after we're all back on solid ground. So, which is it going to be?"

If he left Warren's mind without punishing him, doing something of harm, then surely Magneto would punish him. Even though Rasputin was usually of a cocky nature, he knew that in his condition that anymore mental strain could prove harmful not only to Josh and Warren, but to himself as well. Did he really want to go back to the Brotherhood? No one there had psychic abilities, except for Elliot, and no one could help him develop his powers. If they could offer protection, getting him somewhere where he could be safe from Magneto. "I will leave your mind now, I trust you'll keep your word." With that being said, Rasputin let go all attachment to Warren, and awaited for conformation from either Josh or Warren.

[Warren Worthington III]

Warren’s reaction to Rasputin’s – or Nikkolas’, maybe – disappearance is not so much relief as disorientation… like having a heavy weight suddenly disappear when you’ve been pushing hard against it. The transition from the weird “astral space” he’s been inhabiting and into his own sensorium is so abrupt he doesn’t notice it at first; he looks around the empty rooftop he’s landed on for the other two, wondering what it’s supposed to represent.

It takes him a moment to realize that this is the actual reality, and unlikely to shift radically in response to his thoughts, which is equal parts reassuring and disappointing. Um… Josh? You still in there?

He looks himself over, wincing at the torn and bloody state of his clothing. Did I really fly through a window? That was dumb of me. He’s relieved to see the cuts are mostly superficial and scabbing over quickly, though… he hasn’t lost much blood, and isn’t likely to. He takes a minute to bandage the worst of the cuts before flying back down to the movie theatre.

He’d expected to be immediately surrounded by police, but apparently they haven’t arrived yet… for all that the exchange in his mind seemed to take forever, it hasn’t been very long in objective terms. The crowd is looking frightened by him, but after his performance earlier he can hardly blame them. And Penelope’s mother is frowning, disappointed, and he can guess her thoughts – Worthington turns out to be just a strung-out playboy after all.

And in the back, still sitting calmly with his ice water, is Rasputin.

Well, first things first. Warren walks back in through the broken window, his wings folded tight against his back and his hands held harmlessly up in the air, and approaches the counterman. He pulls out his wallet, moving slowly and carefully to avoid causing consternation, and hands the kid a business card.

"It’s all right… everything’s fine now. Please tell your employer I’m very sorry for causing trouble and prepared to pay for all repairs, as well as to reasonably compensate him for lost business; he can handle the arrangements through lawyers if he prefers, or contact me directly; my private number is on that card. Did you get all that?" The kid nods, looking more dazed than frightened, which Warren figures is as good a result as he’s going to get.

To Penelope’s mother he adds, somewhat quietly, "Ma’am, I apologize for the interruption, especially if my earlier outburst frightened. Unfortunately, I’m in the middle of something rather urgent right now and will have to postpone our conversation to a less hectic time." He puts another business card down in front of her; unsurprisingly, she doesn’t move to take it. Pity… she seemed like someone worth getting to know, he thinks, but has more immediate concerns.

Then he sits down in front of Rasputin. "I suspect there will be police arriving shortly to deal with me, after my little performance back there. We can either leave now and carry on our discussion elsewhere, or reschedule our conversation to after I’ve dealt with them, or Josh can negotiate on my behalf… whichever you prefer."

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

The pen-into-Rasputin’s-hand thing creeps Josh out. He knows that Rasputin’s real hand is untouched, uninjured, back in the real world. The fact that he unknowingly caused damage to his astral avatar says a lot about his general mental state, though. Right. No poking around in there until we figure out what’s wrong with him. The last thing he needed was for something to go horribly wrong in a comic book sort of way, erasing memories or switching bodies in some awful Freaky Friday parody.

> "Right now you’ve got two choices: do something if you’re going to, or get out of my head. If you need protection from Magneto, we can talk about that after we're all back on solid ground. So, which is it going to be?"

Josh rocks back and forth a little in the rickety boat. I hope that doesn’t provoke the guy…It wasn’t that he was worried about losing to Rasputin. No. He seemed to have much better control, more experience, and he certainly hadn’t been lacking in the mentor department. But the idea that Rasputin could hurt Warren was paralyzing. And exactly what Magneto was looking for, the bastard. Josh takes a deep breath and looks on.

Fortunately, it doesn’t come to that, and Rasputin withdraws rather abruptly from Warren’s mind. Josh does a once-over to make sure that he’s actually left and it’s not some kind of devious trick, and pulls his mental senses back into his body. The familiar sight of their bedroom winks back into existence, and Josh throws one of the books he’d been shelving onto the bed, racing for the door to their balcony. Puppy, fortunately, is snoozing in the corner and doesn’t wake.

He’s got the double doors yanked open and is undoing the screen latch when Warren’s voice echoes through his head.

> Um… Josh? You still in there?

I’m not ‘there’ anymore, but I’m here… if that makes sense. He steps outside and shuts the screen to prevent any ‘exploration’ by the puppy. Do you need me down there? I’m about to take off.

[Nikkolas Blagetovich]

Rasputin quickly took a look around, he was back in reality. He'd never had a mental battle like that before, he wasn't ready for something like that. He was very happy with himself in the fact that he used an astral projection. He'd never done anything like that before.

But with the pride in his performance came the crashing headache of reality. His head just filled in pain. Rasputin had went through a metamorphosis, and his mind did a 360. Not so much was he a new person, he was the person that he had tried so long to suppress.

Rasputin watched as Warren dealt with the kid who seemed to work this place. Warren was very professional about how he conducted himself, and his mind really showed it. His idea of a battle field was a board room. Business was his thing, and he must have came from a very wealthy family.

Then, Warren accordingly made his way over to the lady that Rasputin had tried to use as a weapon against him and made good with her, or at least tried. She very apathetic, almost in a rude way Rasputin thought. He was offering her help and she seemed to refuse it without even saying a word.

This really made Rasputin question himself, his motives. Was he really in the right 'faction'? Could people who seemed so generous, kind, even caring be bad, or on the wrong side? It had been so long since Rasputin had had to deal with his emotions like this, before his mental blocks would have made everything easier for him, and his conscious was suppressed. Was he in the right?

"I suspect there will be police arriving shortly to deal with me, after my little performance back there. We can either leave now and carry on our discussion elsewhere, or reschedule our conversation to after I’ve dealt with them, or Josh can negotiate on my behalf… whichever you prefer."

Warren quickly made his way to Rasputin. "Yes, police." He knew that they were a potential threat, and he didn't want to deal with them right now. "We need to get out of here, we've caused too much of a scene. Please, I can't go back now, help me. Bring Josh, whom ever just help me please."

[Warren Worthington III]

(( ends here, picking up at the Institute: "Interview" thread ))