Log in

08 February 2011 @ 04:29 pm
WHO: Pietro and Hank
WHERE: Pietro's apartment
WHEN: Tuesday evening
WARNINGS: mountain of sad :(
SUMMARY: Tea, sympathy, and old friends
FORMAT: I'll be starting in para, but can shift to whatever depending on first comment?

Hank was a little apprehensive, this could go a number of different ways. He knew he couldn't expect this to be an easy visit, but he figured it was the best he could do.

He lugged the large tote bag in one hand and knocked on the door with the other.
Pietro Maximoff † Quicksilver: .crossed
Para works. Warning, I will be slow because work is painful atm.
oncemercurial on February 9th, 2011 04:35 am (UTC)
The visit was unexpected, to say the least. Pietro had elected to have Calvin stay later at the Institute. Someone had taken up the free form arts and crafts in Angelica's place and while it might be painful at first for him to be there without her, the hustle bustle would be distracting, if nothing else. Half of the eerie quiet that had set in around the house in her absence was likely because her boys couldn't seem to find something to do with themselves. Angelica had been the instigator, not them.

Hopeful that it was someone, the police maybe, with a lead on what had happened to her, Pietro rushed for where he'd been brooding in his study to answer the door. He made little effort to hide the surprised and slightly disappointed look in his eyes as he greeted the former X-Man. "Doctor McCoy, hello. What can I do for you?"
Dr. Henry Phillip McCoy: I'll have to think about this.
s'cool, we'll work it at whatever pace you can manage (also my internet can be bad)
bluepurrymuffin on February 9th, 2011 05:31 am (UTC)
He felt the disappointment immediately and found himself suddenly uncomfortable, like he was only intruding. Maybe this had been a bad idea?

"Pietro, I...thought you might perhaps use some company." He lifted the tote bag in his arm to draw attention to it. "...And something to eat."
Pietro Maximoff † Quicksilver: .contemplatng my naval
Re: s'cool, we'll work it at whatever pace you can manage (also my internet can be bad)
oncemercurial on February 9th, 2011 11:07 am (UTC)
"Oh," Pietro said quietly, eyes dropping the bag and brain connecting the dots. "Yes, I suppose-- Please come in. Thank you."

He opened the door wider, stepping back to annoy Hank into the small foyer. Just last week, Angelica had insisted he put up something or people to hang their coats on. Up til this point, it had simply been a convenient place for Calvin's yoyo to get tangled up in, but Pietro gestured to it, hoping Hank would take the hint. He honestly didn't know whether to babble about what little they'd been doing over the passed few days or stay quite and wait for his guest to take the lead. That option seemed safer for the moment.
Dr. Henry Phillip McCoy: What was I thinking?bluepurrymuffin on February 10th, 2011 12:19 am (UTC)
Hank took off his coat and scarf and left them on the rack, then made his way to the kitchen. The silence grew deafening quickly, and Hank was a little unsettled that Pietro seemed to have no intention of breaking it. Understandable, though, given the circumstances.

Hank started removing dishes from his bag as he began with the only thing he could think of. "I'd almost forgotten how cold it remains in New York this late in the season. I seem to keep going through extreme changes in climate lately."
Pietro Maximoff † Quicksilver: .newspaper from next week
I'm sorry this is so damn late. D:
oncemercurial on February 14th, 2011 04:28 am (UTC)
"I dislike winter," Pietro responded curtly. Feeble attempts at conversation could probably be expected here. He appreciated the thought, at least objectively. The reality of dealing with it was... Trying, at best. "The snow makes it difficult for me to move as well as I'd like."

With a vague gesture for Hank to follow him, Pietro made his way through the hall, to the living room and then to the rather nicely sized kitchen. Pinned to their refrigerator were some of Calvin's more elaborate drawings, along with a photo of Angelica holding Leopold in a Santa Claus hat. Decorative plates were displayed periodically. Angelica had chosen them, of course. Pietro didn't see the point of having decorative plates, of all things, but she said it was homey and somehow necessary for proper "nesting". He frowned deeper and tried not to actively think of the laughter in her voice as she'd tried to explain it to him. "I should get you something. Water? Tea?"
Dr. Henry Phillip McCoy: Might I just add...
late tags, they happen!
bluepurrymuffin on February 14th, 2011 05:00 am (UTC)
"I seem to recall young Mr. Shepherd voicing some complaint along those lines. something about the ice. I suppose I have claws to give me better traction." As he laid things out on the counter, he took stock of the kitchen. Looking at Pietro with a frown, "Don't worry about that in the least! Just point me to a teapot and the dishes. I'm here to serve you, after all."
Pietro Maximoff † Quicksilver: .lumberjack
yes but... D:
oncemercurial on February 14th, 2011 10:58 am (UTC)
"Thomas?" He hadn't thought about the boy very much lately. Between moving in, moving Calvin in, and the recent... Well, whatever one could call it, Pietro hadn't given the teenager much thought. He supposed he ought to call his supposed nephew at some point. Poor manners aside, they similarities were a little too obvious to ignore. Maybe he would care that his would-be aunt was gone. There were too many conflicting emotions associated with that thought.

"There's a kettle on the stove, and the cupboard to the left of it has most of the dishes. Anything else is in the sink." And honestly, there were quite a lot in the sink.
Dr. Henry Phillip McCoy: Let's consider this.bluepurrymuffin on February 14th, 2011 07:32 pm (UTC)
"Ah, I see." He takes the kettle to the sink and frowns at its contents. "Well, this simply won't do." He filled the kettle and started heating it on the stove, then started stacking the dishes and filling the sink the soap and water.

He'd feel as though he was being pushy, but this is exactly the sort of thing he came over to help with. Grief had a tendency to make simple day-to-day tasks unbearable, and what kind of a friend would Hank be if he didn't help with that? He rolled up his sleeves and pulled a pair of yellow gloves out of his bag. He'd already expected to do the dishes from dinner, after all, and it wouldn't do to have his fur getting wet.