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Post by Bobby Drake on May 16, 2007 20:42:38 GMT
I’m not supposed to be here.
He’s distracted enough by his surroundings that the thought doesn’t even fill him with déjà vu. It’s simply true: he’s well below the drinking age in New York. Not that the creepy fat guy supposedly checking for IDs at the door seemed to care.
He’s not even sure why he’s here, exactly. Certainly not to buy overpriced drinks too watered-down to even be sterile (not that he’s ever actually bought a drink here, but he’s heard enough about the place) or hook up with the sorts of people who would come to a place like this to hook up.
He just needed not to be at the Institute for a while, to be around people who don’t look at him cross-eyed when he walks in. Not that anyone means anything by it (well, anyone but John), Bobby knows they’re all just curious… and actually, it’s almost funny tracking which groups are getting which rumor when, so much has changed so quickly this semester. But there’s only so much of it he can take. He supposes it’s a lot like what Rogue had to deal with after Liberty, when all the buzz was about her being kidnapped by Magneto, or after she became the first Institute resident to take the Cure.
Still, it’s a little ridiculous that he should end up here. Of course, if anyone asks he can tell them it was one of the first places Magneto hit when he returned to action, so he’d had a hunch there might be something interesting here, but really that’s bullshit… he’s here because somehow it seemed to make sense, now that everything is over, to return to where everything had started.
He can still make out the faint smell of charred wood, even after all the renovations and reconstruction, still recognizes the rough shape of the old burned-out husk in the new tacky paneling and upholstery. His heel responds with a twinge of sympathetic pain when he recognizes the spot where he drove a splinter into it, and he squirms a little as he recognizes other significant locations.
“What’ll it be?” Bobby’s a little started by the bartender’s abrupt voice, and shrugs. He’s not particularly interested in drinking anything, but figures he might as well fit in. "Beer, I guess."
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Nikkolas Blagetovich
Xavier InstituteStudent
Rasputin Psychic Meld
Your mind is my playground
Posts: 92
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Post by Nikkolas Blagetovich on May 18, 2007 18:37:51 GMT
Things were really starting to go up hill for Nikk, life-wise, ever since he enrolled into the institute. He was learning how to better control his power along with social skills. But on the down side, things were not as exciting as they were at the Brother Hood, not to mention some of the rules were getting rather annoying. Nikk just needed to get out every so often, and see things for himself.
Two places that he went to get away from the Institute were at the Bear's Head and Nancy's. He was becoming a usual at the Bear's Head, and could be seen every so often at Nancy's. Now mind you, Nikk didn't have a job or any source of income but what charity the Institute bestowed upon him. He was using his powers on the bar tenders to get free drinks, and to leave whatever else was on his tab to the bar to pick up. Besides the bar tenders who began to notice that the inventory/profit ratio wasn't matching up, some of the other customer's were beginning to wonder where Nikk got the funds to pay for all that he got. He had to change it up a bit
If the customers and bar tenders knew that he was a mutant using his mutation to steal, then things could get very bad for Nikk very quickly. He could be kicked out of the Institute, he could be beat up, murdered, or worse, loose control of himself again. Though Nikk was becoming stronger, he couldn't fend off a mob. The consequences out weighted the free stuff.
So tonight, he chose to go to Mimi's, he had heard some people in Nancy's talking about it so he decided to give it a shot. He walked in the entrance only to be greeted by an extremely over weight, tall, bald man who smelled like burnt bacon. The fat dude smiled at Nikk, exposing a nasty set of what were supposed to be teeth. "Go on in." The man's voice was low, and when he spoke it sounded more like a grumble. I thought you put attractive people in the front.[/i] The man was no eye candy, not even close. Nikk walked by him, giving him a soft nod.
Nikk looked around the bar; just about everyone looked 'rough'. They were here for some reason or another, but the main one was to get away and get a drink Nikk thought. As he was looking around, he spotted what seemed to be a familiar face. He couldn't put a name on the face, but he was sure the kid he was looking at went to the Institute. Well I could always read his mind to find out. He thought for a moment. If the boy was indeed a mutant and his power was of the mind, it was bad telepathic etiquette to enter a mind without permission. And worse, the boy may take it as an act of aggression and that would open up a whole can of worms.
He took a deep breath, he would do this the old fashion way. He made his way to the boy and sat down next to him. He smiled softly, "Hello, may I by you drink?" His accent was very apparent. This was rather straight forward for Nikk, but it was all he thought of at the time.
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Post by Bobby Drake on May 18, 2007 22:09:50 GMT
> " Hello, may I by you drink?"
Bobby’s startled again… this isn’t the sort of place where he’d expected to be approached by strangers. Though on second thought, this kid might not be a stranger… his face seems familiar, as does the thick Russian accent.
Thinking about it he vaguely remembers Josh telling him some story about a new student, a Russian kid the Brotherhood had sent after Warren, or something like that? Wait… that makes no sense… a new student Brotherhood member? As is infuriatingly common these days, he realizes he hadn’t really paid all that much attention at the time, and his memory is muddled. I probably filed the details on a hard-drive somewhere, he thinks despondently to himself.
But the guy doesn’t seem hostile, and Bobby’s pretty sure about the “new student” part, so he decides to err on the side of friendly. "Oh, um… sure?" He swivels around on his barstool to get a better look at the kid, ignoring the rusty squeal it makes, then waves vaguely at the beer being deposited on the counter, not quite sure of the protocol for this sort of thing.
"Um… I’m sorry, but have we met? You look familiar, but I can’t place the face…?"
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Nikkolas Blagetovich
Xavier InstituteStudent
Rasputin Psychic Meld
Your mind is my playground
Posts: 92
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Post by Nikkolas Blagetovich on May 18, 2007 22:44:49 GMT
"Oh, um… sure?"
Nikk could see that the boy was a little startled with his offer. It wasn't usually how he introduced himself to other people, but he was trying 'get out of the box' like what he saw on television. But anyways, he did what he did and it couldn't be undone. He was becoming a social butterfly, or so he told himself, and this was just a step on the path to that goal. "Sorry if uncomfortable, my name is Nikkolas, but you may call me Nikk. May I ask, are you Institute student?" He smiled, hoping that he wasn't coming on too strong.
He looked for the bar tender, trying not divert any attention away from his new friend. As he was looking out of the corner of his eye for the bar tender, "Um, vhat can I get you for drink?" As he was talking, he found his target. He would have vodka, as Russian stereotypically did. And of course, he wouldn't pay for it, the tab would be totally left on the bar as it always was.
The bar tender was short, but thin unlike the guy near the door. He looked...rough, as if he was a reject foot ball player. But looks didn't matter, it was what was in the inside that mattered to Nikk; appearance never affected a meld. Subtly, Nikk took control of the man, making him walk over to where they were at. "What can I get for ya?" The bar keep forcefully said.
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Post by Bobby Drake on May 18, 2007 23:26:59 GMT
> " Sorry if uncomfortable, my name is Nikkolas, but you may call me Nikk. May I ask, are you Institute student? "
Bobby returns the smile, more confidently now that his guess as to Nikkolas’ origin is confirmed, and gestures to him to take the empty stool nearby."Yeah, I thought your voice sounded familiar… you’re the new student Josh invited, right? Good to meet you… I’m Bobby, Bobby Drake." He extends a hand to shake, wondering if Russians have that custom.
> "Um, vhat can I get you for drink?"
Bobby raises the beer mug the bartender just put down and grins "This is fine for now, thanks." He’s a little surprised when the bartender interrupts another customer’s order and returns to them right away, but doesn’t give it much thought; he just points to his own beer with an “I’m good for now” hand gesture. "What’s your poison, Nikk?"
It’s a little weird drinking with other Institute students without John around, but Bobby resolutely refuses to worry about it. In fact, maybe that’s just what I need… get some new memories attached to places like this, so I’m not always reminded of John? It makes as much sense as anything else, really, and Bobby takes a long pull at his beer with a feeling of resolution before slamming it back down on the counter.
"So, you fitting in OK? I guess the Institute is a bit more of a jump for you than for most of us, if you’re coming from the Brotherhood – um, I mean, " he corrects himself hastily, blushing a little at the slip "I mean from Russia?" Yeah, he thinks to himself sardonically, way to make the new kid feel welcome, Drake. Reaaaal smooth.
(( OOC: incidentally, if it's IC for Nikk to read Bob's mind or mentally manipulate him or whatever, feel free... Bob's probably slightly more resistant to that sort of thing than the usual guy on the street just from being a relatively strongwilled kid and from experience hanging out with telepaths, but not enough to make a real difference. That said, he'll be IC pissed off if he finds out.))
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Nikkolas Blagetovich
Xavier InstituteStudent
Rasputin Psychic Meld
Your mind is my playground
Posts: 92
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Post by Nikkolas Blagetovich on May 19, 2007 0:35:00 GMT
familiarlue]"Yeah, I thought your voice sounded familiar… you’re the new student Josh invited, right? Good to meet you… I’m Bobby, Bobby Drake."[/color]
Nikk chuckled lightly. Sure, Josh had invited him, he had felt sympathy for the poor, mentally distressed, Russian stray. The memory of him attacking Warren and Joshinterveningg made him feel bad, because after he did all of that to them, Warren and Josh were kind enough to bring him into, and stick up for him in the Institute. Nikk recklessly, and without reason attacked Warren. It was all over now, and things were good, just the memory was left now.
Bobby must have heard about him from Josh or Warren, though it didn't really matter because they were meeting now. "Yes, I am new student dhat Josh helped. Very nice he and Warren are, very nice." He smiled, engaging Bobby's hand. He shook it heavily, patting Bobby's shoulder with his other hand.
"This is fine for now, thanks."
Nikk nodded at Bobby. Then he looked at what he was drinking, "Beer?" the pitch of his voice rose slightly, "Puny American drink." He said withsarcasmm chuckling, hoping that Bobby would not be offended. "But vhat ever floats you boat, right?" He was slowly catching on to some American sayings.
"What’s your poison, Nikk?"
Nikk was stunned for a moment, "Poison?" He thought for a moment of what the word meant, then took it into an American context. He laughed, "Poison, yes." He turned to the bar tender, "I vill take some vodka please." The bar tender scurried off to fetch them their drinks, and he turned back to Bobby, "I am catching on to your American lingo." He smiled, waiting for his drink.
"So, you fitting in OK? I guess the Institute is a bit more of a jump for you than for most of us, if you’re coming from the Brotherhood – um, I mean, "
Nikk just smiled at Bobby, he didn't really know what to say. He was ratherembarrassedd that some one that he didn't even know from his school knew that he came from the Brotherhood. He was in a situation, and the Brotherhood was the a solution to the situation. It wasn't something that he was exactly proud of, but it was a part of his past. He wasn't going to let that bother him though, and he surely wasn't going to let it create a rift between him and a new friend. "I'm doing ok fitting in. Com-municating vith dhe other students is difficult in English. Josh, Warren, and Danny have become my friends. Not many, but enough." He could kind of tell that Bobby felt as if he messed up mentioning the Brotherhood." It's ok, dhe Brotherhood vas dhe only place for me in vhen I came here and in dhe state I vas in. But," he paused, "I like it very much, dhe people are very kind."
"I mean from Russia?"
He bobbed his head, not sure really what he thought of America totally yet. "America, is different." That was the safe answer. America was a step up for him from Russia, but he still had somethings to adjust to. "So, I sink you are very popular guy, no?" Bobby seemed very popular to Nikk, he just looked like he had some preppy qualities, though he was very nice.
The bar tender finally made his way over, with Nikk's help of course, and placed a cup and the whole bottle of vodka in front of Nikk. "Enjoy." he said, before darting off to where he left off with another customer. "So, vhat is your power exactly?"
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Post by Bobby Drake on May 19, 2007 1:43:30 GMT
> " I'm doing ok fitting in. Com-municating vith dhe other students is difficult in English. Josh, Warren, and Danny have become my friends. Not many, but enough. "
"Well, your English is a lot better than my Russian, believe me. And it’ll get better." He grins at the mention of the other names as he takes another swig of (truly awful-tasting) beer, and adds "Yeah, they’re good people. ‘sall about quantity, not quality, right?" He stops, looking puzzled, and shakes his head. "No, that’s not right… all about quality over quantity, I mean!" He grins again, triumphantly.
> " It's ok, dhe Brotherhood vas dhe only place for me in vhen I came here and in dhe state I vas in. "
Bobby nods, still a little embarrassed. "Sorry… didn’t mean to bring that up. And yeah, I get you… I mean, you’re not the only one, come to that." He shakes his head, chagrined, no I’m not going to have that conversation! and is glad when Nikk changes the subject.
> " So, I sink you are very popular guy, no? "
Bobby blinks at that. "What gives you that idea? No more so than anyone else who’s been around a while. Though I guess there’s been a lot of fuss about me lately… I’ve been having some, um, medical problems, I guess you’d say." Sure, I guess being braindamaged and comatose count as medical problems… He shrugs and takes another swig of his beer.
"But that’s over and done with, I hope. Just an ordinary mut— um, ordinary Institute kid from now on." Jeez, that was close! This sure as hell isn’t the sort of place I want to be tossing the word “mutant” around.
Bobby stares in surprise when the bartender brings over a whole bottle of vodka… in part at the bottle itself, and in part at the fact that Nikk didn’t actually order a bottle. "Wow… I guess you do a lot of drinking here, huh?" That explains why the bartender dissed another customer to serve him, but good lord… is he really gonna finish that off? He must have the constitution of a bull! Bobby wouldn't have pegged Nikk as having a physical mutation like that from the look of him, but of course it's usually impossible to tell just by looking.
"Heh. I guess you and Pete have more in common than nationality." He thinks for a moment and adds "I guess you haven’t met Pete yet, huh? Right, he’s out visiting his folks or something. He’s from your neck of the planet, originally. You’d like him, I think."
" So, vhat is your power exactly?"
The question comes as he’s finishing his beer, and he almost chokes on it in startlement and looks around furtively. "Dude… not in public!" he whispers furiously, then adds more loudly "Oh, um, my major you mean? I’m, um, I, well, I haven’t really decided yet." Not the best recovery ever, but it beats comparing mutations in the middle of a mundane bar… especially not one that John and Magneto torched less than a year ago.
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Nikkolas Blagetovich
Xavier InstituteStudent
Rasputin Psychic Meld
Your mind is my playground
Posts: 92
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Post by Nikkolas Blagetovich on May 19, 2007 2:40:50 GMT
"Well, your English is a lot better than my Russian, believe me. And it’ll get better."
Nikk couldn't help but smile. Bobby could sure put a smile on Nikk's face. He was kind and had a good sense of humor. He must be living the American dream. "Vell thank you. I really hope it gets better soon. Sometimes it is difficult, but I go on. Russian is not so difficult, maybe I can show you one day." It would be nice to have another person around speak Russian rather then keep continuing on with telepathy and broken English.
"Yeah, they’re good people. ‘sall about quantity, not quality, right?" "No, that’s not right… all about quality over quantity, I mean!"
Nikk cocked his head to the right and looked at Bobby. He smiled, he knew what he meant. He laughed softly, "Is your 'beer' taking effect already?" He was clearly joking with Bobby, he started to feel more comfortable around him, and he was getting out of his shell. "Yes, I agree vith you. Dhe are very good to me."
"Sorry… didn’t mean to bring that up. And yeah, I get you… I mean, you’re not the only one, come to that."
He shook his head, "No, it's over vith. I am different person now, I know vhat I did vas wrong." he paused, fully soaking in what Bobby had said. He moved in closer toward Bobby, "You mean dhere are others like me?" He didn't think that anyone fled to the Institute but him.
"What gives you that idea? No more so than anyone else who’s been around a while. Though I guess there’s been a lot of fuss about me lately… I’ve been having some, um, medical problems, I guess you’d say."
Nikk took poured himself a generous amount of vodka into his cup, offering the bottle to Bobby. He took a big gulp. "Vell, you know. You sound very good." he didn't know what word would quite fit, this was the trouble he went through with English sometimes. Telepathy would have been so much easier, but he dare not intrude into Bobby's mind, he didn't want to set a bad impression. "You look happy?" he was lost in words. He filled his cup, and took another large gulp of his drink, putting, putting the bottle back in front of Bobby in case he wanted some. "You have problems? Are you ok to be drinking?"
"Wow… I guess you do a lot of drinking here, huh?
Nikk grinned, he couldn't hid the fact that he liked to drink. "Vell, I guess you can say that." He looked into his now empty glass, he smelled heavily of vodka now. "My favorite place is Bear's Head."
"I guess you haven’t met Pete yet, huh? Right, he’s out visiting his folks or something. He’s from your neck of the planet, originally. You’d like him, I think."
"Pete?" Nikk knew no Pete; he had no idea who he was talking about. A fellow Russian in the Institute was very encouraging. He would actually have some one else to talk with in his native language. "It is sad dhat he is not here to speak with me, but I have you now to speak with too."
Dude… not in public!"
Nikk felt incredibly stupid. He could have just exposed himself and Bobby; he endangered both of their lives. "Bobby, I am very, very sorry." He started to get really stressed out over the situation. He moved in closer to Bobby, breathing quickly, "I am used to telepathy speaking, sometimes I forget everyone else can hear." He didn't know what to do, he could go through an emotional breakdown so easily.
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Post by Bobby Drake on May 19, 2007 3:56:17 GMT
> "Bobby, I am very, very sorry. I am used to telepathy speaking, sometimes I forget everyone else can hear."
Bobby puts a friendly hand on Nikk’s shoulder. "’sOK, Nikk… no harm done."
Actually, he’s not entirely sure of that last part; they’re getting strange looks from a guy at the far end of the bar. But trying to leave now might cause more suspicion than it resolves, so as long as everything stays civil he decides to stick around. He pours a finger or so from Nikk’s proffered bottle into his mug to cover his uncertainty, then meets the other boy’s eyes and frowns in concentration, trying to focus his thoughts so Nikk can pick them up.
Telepathy, huh? Testing, 1, 2, 3… you hear me?
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Nikkolas Blagetovich
Xavier InstituteStudent
Rasputin Psychic Meld
Your mind is my playground
Posts: 92
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Post by Nikkolas Blagetovich on May 19, 2007 4:12:04 GMT
"’sOK, Nikk… no harm done."
Nikk was starting to get a little flustered with himself; he didn't like to make mistakes like this. Bobby put his hand on Nikk's shoulder and he seemed to relax. Was Bobby's mutation the ability to make people feel good and relaxed, it sure seemed like it. Nikk poured another glass of vodka and shot it down. He was gonna get plastered tonight. "Ok."
Telepathy, huh? Testing, 1, 2, 3… you hear me?
As they were sitting there, Bobby looked straight into Nikk's eyes, he seemed to be frowning at him. It wasn't a frown of anger, it was something else. Nikk wasn't sure if Bobby was trying to hypnotize him or what. A few seconds went by of Bobby's staring before Nikk started to feel a pulsing concentration from him. He got Bobby's message, and understood what he was trying to do. <Bobby? Yes, I hear you! Thank you! This is so much easier for me. I'm sorry about all of that. I'll try to stay low-key. You don't think anyone is gonna catch on do you?>
He looked around, there were a few unfriendly faces looking their way, but nothing that he hadn't seen before. He looked back to Bobby, taking a sip of his vodka, seeing what he'd say/think.
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Post by Bobby Drake on May 19, 2007 5:26:39 GMT
No, they probably won’t catch onto telepathy as long as we’re careful. Of course, if I keep staring into your eyes like this they’ll probably think we’re on a date or something, which might get us into just as much trouble.
Bobby looks away, trying to keep his focus on continuing to “think out loud” without the eye contact – he’s had some practice with this with Josh, during Danger Room sessions and stuff, but it’s not something that comes easily.
Anyway, I guess I don’t have to ask you what your mutation is then, huh? As for me… well, I’d demonstrate by chilling the vodka for you, but my control isn’t too great these days; better not to push my luck. Hank calls it cryokinesis – I make things cold, basically.
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Nikkolas Blagetovich
Xavier InstituteStudent
Rasputin Psychic Meld
Your mind is my playground
Posts: 92
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Post by Nikkolas Blagetovich on May 19, 2007 16:08:21 GMT
No, they probably won’t catch onto telepathy as long as we’re careful. Of course, if I keep staring into your eyes like this they’ll probably think we’re on a date or something, which might get us into just as much trouble.
He let out a sign of relief. Getting exposed and getting another person exposed because of such a stupid comment just pissed him off. His extreme hatred for humans right now could probably be felt by Bobby. Him and human reasoning never go along. Jeez, there is little we can do eh? Have some more vodka, things get better the more you drink.
He poured himself but another glass, this was a very generous portion. He brought it up to his nose and sniffed. The wonders of the sweet elixir. Over the course of a few years, Nikk had really become addicted to vodka. He loved the stuff.
Anyway, I guess I don’t have to ask you what your mutation is then, huh? As for me… well, I’d demonstrate by chilling the vodka for you, but my control isn’t too great these days; better not to push my luck. Hank calls it cryokinesis – I make things cold, basically.
Nikk cracked his neck. Heh, vodka does not need chilling, but it does enhance it. I would love to see your power in action. I think mutants with your type of gift are very lucky. You have the ability to not only do cool things, but at the same time when you use your power, it's like art. He took only a sip of his drink this time. And I totally understand how control issues can suck. If it wasn't for Josh and Jake helping me to keep my mind stable, I'd be terrible. But really, you should demonstrate you ability for me when you feel like you can control it better.
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Post by Bobby Drake on May 20, 2007 5:43:57 GMT
> Jeez, there is little we can do eh? Have some more vodka, things get better the more you drink.
Bobby isn’t quite sure how to respond to the waves of anger and hatred he feels radiating off of Nikk. He’s fairly sure it isn’t directed at him, which is a relief, but still… he’s never experienced anything like it before, and it’s more than a little disorienting, not to mention nauseating. He swallows most of the liquid in his glass without thinking, then chokes a little on the burning sensation in his throat.
"Wow, that’s… something! Different from whiskey." Which is an inane thing to say, he realizes, but it’s unlikely to set off another wave of bad feeling. The “so-what’s-your-power” conversation is similarly innocuous, and Bobby is relieved to get away from the potentially dangerous topics.
> I would love to see your power in action. I think mutants with your type of gift are very lucky. You have the ability to not only do cool things, but at the same time when you use your power, it's like art.
Bobby is flattered, and more than a little startled, by the comment; enough so that he forgets to “think” his response. "Art? Oh… well, I don’t know about that… I mean, it’s not something I’ve thought about much." He empties his glass, more carefully this time, and puts it back down on the bar. "Do you really think so?"
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Nikkolas Blagetovich
Xavier InstituteStudent
Rasputin Psychic Meld
Your mind is my playground
Posts: 92
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Post by Nikkolas Blagetovich on May 21, 2007 21:14:21 GMT
"Wow, that’s… something! Different from whiskey."
Nikk watched how Bobby handled the sweet Russian water. He seemed to handle it very, very well. Besides the little twitch that Bobby did when the vodka was in mid-throat, he handled it like a Russian would. "Yes, vodka is very good, no drink compares I think." He poured himself a little portion in his glass. "You drink like Russian." Nikk was starting to get buzzed, and he was very cheery when he was buzzed.
"Art? Oh… well, I don’t know about that… I mean, it’s not something I’ve thought about much."
Nikk noticed that Bobby was starting to answer his telepathic question out loud. Now, they weren't drawing really any attention, but it was better to be safe then sorry. He didn't want to be responsible for anything bad happening to Bobby or himself. "Vhy yes, art is good." Nikk wasn't very good at cover ups or pulling something off of the top of his head. However, Nikk did understand that Bobby wasn't a telepath, and with the help of alcohol, could prove difficult to keep conversation in on place. He moved close to Bobby to whisper, "Ve have to keep conversation in one place remember?" If anyone knew the beauty of ice and the cold, it was Nikk. He came from the vast mass of Russia. I think you are very lucky. The beautiful snow flakes that are etched in a fresh slab of ice is art in itself, not to mention ice sculptures.
He frowned slightly, looking at the almost empty bottle of vodka. It was never a pretty sight when the vodka bottle ran empty. "Do you vant more vodka, or vould you prefer different kind. All is ok for me. Or ve could get out of here if vant."
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Post by Bobby Drake on May 22, 2007 17:37:36 GMT
> " Yes, vodka is very good, no drink compares I think. "
Bobby shrugs, then hastily sits up straight as the room spins a little. "Well, I don’t have a lot to compare it to, I guess… I’m not really much of a drinker." The near-empty bottle sitting on the bar between them seems to sneer at that, and Bobby blinks in surprise… surely Nikk was responsible for drinking most of that, right?
> " You drink like Russian. "
"Heh… if I’m not careful I’ll probably throw up and pass out like Russian, too, and you’ll have to carry me back to the Institute? Are you a – " he stammers a little, startled: had he really been about to say “telekinetic” in public?!? "Um, I mean… are you, you know, like Josh?" He’s guessing not, now that he thinks about it, judging from his comments about physical powers… or was he referring to Bobby’s powers in particular? Truthfully the conversation was becoming hard for him to follow.
> I think you are very lucky. The beautiful snow flakes that are etched in a fresh slab of ice is art in itself, not to mention ice sculptures.
Bobby’s head feels vaguely like it’s been stuffed with cotton; it’s hard for him to focus his thoughts enough to broadcast them. Well, I guess so…I mean, I know it sounds funny but I was never really all that into winter, at least not until my powers showed up. Couldn’t ice-skate worth shit, either. > " Do you vant more vodka, or vould you prefer different kind. All is ok for me. Or ve could get out of here if vant. "
"I, um… I think I’ve had enough to drink for one night. Maybe I should get going… get to my own bed before I pass out, y’know?"
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