TJ and Pete | New Years Eve Party
Dec. 31st, 2018 05:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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ax_mainTJ and Pete discuss the nature of alternate realities - and some of Pete's more disturbing relationship choices.
TJ was taking a dancing break, having just stepped outside with a Screwdriver. Her brown minidress, which technically covered a little more of her than her usual outfits (despite still leaving little to the imagination), turned out to be keeping her hotter than she would have preferred, so she erred away from the space heaters, to the side of the large awning set up for the occasion, hoping to get a bit of cold wind to cool her down.
She grinned when she spotted none other than Pete Wisdom, smoking a cigarette, with a glass of something that looked very much like whisky in his hand. "You know, I don't think I've ever met one of you who didn't love his Scotch and smokes. Says something about stability through the multiverse."
"Good to hear I'm consistent, at least," Pete supplied. He took a drag from his cigarette, eyebrows raising as he looked her up and down, then smirked. "So, you're the Wagner of an alternate Earth? Gotta say, you're easier on the eyes than our version."
"I look better in a dress," TJ replied with a shrug, tail arcing naturally with the motion. "But I'm not the female version of Kurt. He exists where I'm from. He's my dad." An easy mistake to make, especially with their official cover story being that they were siblings. But at least she didn't have to explain the whole alternate dimension thing, so this was cool.
Pete's eyebrows shot up higher. "Always thought time moved at the same pace between dimensions," he admitted. "Not that STRIKE had a hell of a lot of intel on them, but the bits and pieces said as much. Not the case?"
"You're already all STRIKEd up?" TJ whistled impressively. "You move fast. But no, it isn't." They'd learned that one fast. What had it been, their second mission, going up against Jean? "Not that it matters, in that case. It's still 2018 where I'm from." She pursed her lips. "I mean, for one more hour, anyway. But a lot of mutants were born earlier, I guess?"
"Sort of blows the whole 'if Hitler had been killed' theory though, don't it?" Pete took a drag off his cigarette and tapped it off as he exhaled. "Something that makes realities branch off wouldn't backdate everyone's births. 'less it made my dad less of a wanker, but still. A whole generation got lost somewhere, sounds like."
"Not really," TJ answered with a frown. "I mean, I was really not the brains of our merry little band of interdimensional travelers, but I always figured if the idea is that there is a different world for each possibility, there's probably one where the Professor creates his school back in the Middle Ages, or the Stone Age, or whatever. All of it, you know?" In the end, what was really surprising was that they had only been to worlds with mutants at least some of them knew. Probably a choice of the Timebroker's, though.
"'Cept how would he be born in the Middle Ages and be the same person -" Pete shook his head and took a drink from his glass. "Doesn't make sense to me, but you're the one with the first hand experience at it. You said you'd met me before, though? Agent of STRIKE and all?"
"Yep," TJ confirmed, glad he was dropping the topic. It made sense when Reed Richards dumbed it down enough for her to get it, but it didn't mean she was any good at explaining it. "You were even its director once? But my favorite one of you had married this badass punk bondage fairy. She was awesome."
Pete choked on his scotch.
"You did that on purpose," he sputtered, pointing the hand still holding his cigarette at her accusingly. Because first off, who the hell would have married him? And second...yeah. Punk bondage fairy. Tell him another one.
"I have great timing when delivering cold, hard facts," TJ replied, fangs flashing in her bright smile.
"There is no bloody way anyone in their right mind - or otherwise - would marry me," Pete pointed out. "And there are no such things as fairies, 'less you're talking about the girl with the pink hair and wings, and she's nothing supernatural, just a mutant."
"Yeah, because you're an expert on everything that exists in every world out there," TJ agreed, nodding along to her own bullshit words. "And every realm out there."
"Even that mucked up fantasyland we got tossed into last month didn't have fairies," he pointed out.
"That we know of," TJ pointed out. "Not that it matters anyway. Fairies are a thing, you married one in some kind of political compact thing, and we had to play marriage counsellor to the two of you so she'd be okay helping out when you needed the help of her people against a Skrull invasion. Deal with it, Wisdom. We had to."
Political arranged marriage. That settled one question, at least. Still...if the girl had met more of him, maybe she could help him decide something. "So," Pete began with as much of a casual air as he could manage in a blatant near-change of subject, "who else have I been hooked up with? Anyone other than BDSM Titania Barbie?"
That was a pretty perfect description of Tink, as far as TJ was concerned, and she chuckled in appreciation... then shook her head. "Not sure, really. We didn't really ask about your marital status every time we met you, and that was thankfully the only time it was the heart of our mission. I think you were with Kitty once? I don't know how you talked her into that. Oh! And in that world where Tony Stark was president, you and Brian Braddock made the cutest couple."
"Braddo-" Pete choked out, then glared at TJ indignantly. "There is no way any version of me would ever be in a relationship with Bets' stuck up, rock brained, muscle-bound excuse for a brother. None. You're making things up now." Which sadly meant she was likely making up the bit about him and Pryde, too.
"Exiles' honor, it's all true," TJ replied, tail rising in mimicry of a scout's honor hand sign. "I wish I still had my phone from back then." She'd taken some amazing selfies with some of the people she'd met, working as President Stark's security detail. It had been one of their longer missions, and an overall happy one. She took another drink from her cup, to chase away the memories of John.
"Hmmph." Pete tossed back the rest of his drink, trying to erase that image from his mind, then shook his head. "See anything with Bets I can use as blackmail?" he asked hopefully. Someone else had to be doing crazy things in these places, right?
"Would I tell you if I had?" TJ pointed out with a smirk.
"Likely depends on how many of Bets you ran into, and whether or not she drove you batty," Pete observed. He smirked. "And how much you like good Scotch."
TJ shook her head with a smile. "Sorry. Not a fan."
"Just as well." Pete looked down at his cup mournfully. "I ran out of the good stuff I swiped from Orpington-Smythe anyway." He looked up again and smirked. "Buy you a drink of something else instead?" Granted, it was all free, but it was the thought, right?
TJ chuckled at the phrasing, and downed the rest of her drink. "You're on." She didn't feel quite as overheated anymore, so going back inside would be nice.
TJ was taking a dancing break, having just stepped outside with a Screwdriver. Her brown minidress, which technically covered a little more of her than her usual outfits (despite still leaving little to the imagination), turned out to be keeping her hotter than she would have preferred, so she erred away from the space heaters, to the side of the large awning set up for the occasion, hoping to get a bit of cold wind to cool her down.
She grinned when she spotted none other than Pete Wisdom, smoking a cigarette, with a glass of something that looked very much like whisky in his hand. "You know, I don't think I've ever met one of you who didn't love his Scotch and smokes. Says something about stability through the multiverse."
"Good to hear I'm consistent, at least," Pete supplied. He took a drag from his cigarette, eyebrows raising as he looked her up and down, then smirked. "So, you're the Wagner of an alternate Earth? Gotta say, you're easier on the eyes than our version."
"I look better in a dress," TJ replied with a shrug, tail arcing naturally with the motion. "But I'm not the female version of Kurt. He exists where I'm from. He's my dad." An easy mistake to make, especially with their official cover story being that they were siblings. But at least she didn't have to explain the whole alternate dimension thing, so this was cool.
Pete's eyebrows shot up higher. "Always thought time moved at the same pace between dimensions," he admitted. "Not that STRIKE had a hell of a lot of intel on them, but the bits and pieces said as much. Not the case?"
"You're already all STRIKEd up?" TJ whistled impressively. "You move fast. But no, it isn't." They'd learned that one fast. What had it been, their second mission, going up against Jean? "Not that it matters, in that case. It's still 2018 where I'm from." She pursed her lips. "I mean, for one more hour, anyway. But a lot of mutants were born earlier, I guess?"
"Sort of blows the whole 'if Hitler had been killed' theory though, don't it?" Pete took a drag off his cigarette and tapped it off as he exhaled. "Something that makes realities branch off wouldn't backdate everyone's births. 'less it made my dad less of a wanker, but still. A whole generation got lost somewhere, sounds like."
"Not really," TJ answered with a frown. "I mean, I was really not the brains of our merry little band of interdimensional travelers, but I always figured if the idea is that there is a different world for each possibility, there's probably one where the Professor creates his school back in the Middle Ages, or the Stone Age, or whatever. All of it, you know?" In the end, what was really surprising was that they had only been to worlds with mutants at least some of them knew. Probably a choice of the Timebroker's, though.
"'Cept how would he be born in the Middle Ages and be the same person -" Pete shook his head and took a drink from his glass. "Doesn't make sense to me, but you're the one with the first hand experience at it. You said you'd met me before, though? Agent of STRIKE and all?"
"Yep," TJ confirmed, glad he was dropping the topic. It made sense when Reed Richards dumbed it down enough for her to get it, but it didn't mean she was any good at explaining it. "You were even its director once? But my favorite one of you had married this badass punk bondage fairy. She was awesome."
Pete choked on his scotch.
"You did that on purpose," he sputtered, pointing the hand still holding his cigarette at her accusingly. Because first off, who the hell would have married him? And second...yeah. Punk bondage fairy. Tell him another one.
"I have great timing when delivering cold, hard facts," TJ replied, fangs flashing in her bright smile.
"There is no bloody way anyone in their right mind - or otherwise - would marry me," Pete pointed out. "And there are no such things as fairies, 'less you're talking about the girl with the pink hair and wings, and she's nothing supernatural, just a mutant."
"Yeah, because you're an expert on everything that exists in every world out there," TJ agreed, nodding along to her own bullshit words. "And every realm out there."
"Even that mucked up fantasyland we got tossed into last month didn't have fairies," he pointed out.
"That we know of," TJ pointed out. "Not that it matters anyway. Fairies are a thing, you married one in some kind of political compact thing, and we had to play marriage counsellor to the two of you so she'd be okay helping out when you needed the help of her people against a Skrull invasion. Deal with it, Wisdom. We had to."
Political arranged marriage. That settled one question, at least. Still...if the girl had met more of him, maybe she could help him decide something. "So," Pete began with as much of a casual air as he could manage in a blatant near-change of subject, "who else have I been hooked up with? Anyone other than BDSM Titania Barbie?"
That was a pretty perfect description of Tink, as far as TJ was concerned, and she chuckled in appreciation... then shook her head. "Not sure, really. We didn't really ask about your marital status every time we met you, and that was thankfully the only time it was the heart of our mission. I think you were with Kitty once? I don't know how you talked her into that. Oh! And in that world where Tony Stark was president, you and Brian Braddock made the cutest couple."
"Braddo-" Pete choked out, then glared at TJ indignantly. "There is no way any version of me would ever be in a relationship with Bets' stuck up, rock brained, muscle-bound excuse for a brother. None. You're making things up now." Which sadly meant she was likely making up the bit about him and Pryde, too.
"Exiles' honor, it's all true," TJ replied, tail rising in mimicry of a scout's honor hand sign. "I wish I still had my phone from back then." She'd taken some amazing selfies with some of the people she'd met, working as President Stark's security detail. It had been one of their longer missions, and an overall happy one. She took another drink from her cup, to chase away the memories of John.
"Hmmph." Pete tossed back the rest of his drink, trying to erase that image from his mind, then shook his head. "See anything with Bets I can use as blackmail?" he asked hopefully. Someone else had to be doing crazy things in these places, right?
"Would I tell you if I had?" TJ pointed out with a smirk.
"Likely depends on how many of Bets you ran into, and whether or not she drove you batty," Pete observed. He smirked. "And how much you like good Scotch."
TJ shook her head with a smile. "Sorry. Not a fan."
"Just as well." Pete looked down at his cup mournfully. "I ran out of the good stuff I swiped from Orpington-Smythe anyway." He looked up again and smirked. "Buy you a drink of something else instead?" Granted, it was all free, but it was the thought, right?
TJ chuckled at the phrasing, and downed the rest of her drink. "You're on." She didn't feel quite as overheated anymore, so going back inside would be nice.
