Kitty Pryde (
st_alksthroughwalls) wrote in
strangetrip2017-01-15 10:31 am
[GP/EP] We are programmed to receive
Fifteen days into this particular strange trip, Kitty had redistributed alcohol supplies between the cafe, restaurant, and night club to make it possible to easily tend bar wherever people decided to gather. Today, as most days, she settled into the lobby cafe after chivvying the cook into chicken tenders and french fries (after convincing him it was a single plate meal). It was the closest she could get to "bar food" from him and someone would probably arrive sooner rather than later to make something else.
A few people trickled in after awhile, but none of them demanding. Like her, they drank coffee from the samovar she'd put out. And also like her, most of them had something else to keep them occupied. At the moment, Kitty had a notebook open (from the gift shop; she kept her school notebooks separate in case she made it home during the term) and was sketching plans to upgrade the hotel's computer technology. She needed more raw computing power to work out the energy requirements to do what Illyana did with a thought.
She lifted her head periodically to check for new customers, and had just seated herself at the end of the bar after refilling the samovar when the first new new customer arrived. Immediately, she flipped to a fresh page in the notebook and headed it "Day 15" and made a hash mark for one new arrival. Then she looked up from her notebook and offered one and all her best bartending smile.
A few people trickled in after awhile, but none of them demanding. Like her, they drank coffee from the samovar she'd put out. And also like her, most of them had something else to keep them occupied. At the moment, Kitty had a notebook open (from the gift shop; she kept her school notebooks separate in case she made it home during the term) and was sketching plans to upgrade the hotel's computer technology. She needed more raw computing power to work out the energy requirements to do what Illyana did with a thought.
She lifted her head periodically to check for new customers, and had just seated herself at the end of the bar after refilling the samovar when the first new new customer arrived. Immediately, she flipped to a fresh page in the notebook and headed it "Day 15" and made a hash mark for one new arrival. Then she looked up from her notebook and offered one and all her best bartending smile.

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What he said surprised her, though. It sounded more modern than she'd have expected. She tilted her head a little, curious at how calm he seemed to be. "You'd be surprised. One guy showed up in a trench coat and nothing else. Another was bleeding from claw wounds. Buckskin's a new one on me, but not that weird. I'm Kitty."
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"So, where is here exactly?" He hadn't thought to grab a newspaper when he was in the lobby and figured where am I was a lot easier question to ask than when am I.
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"Are you saying that movers moved the Inn to an unknown location?"
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She assumed a yes, as she set it down in front of him, but mentally prepared for a request for cream and immediately nudged a sugar caddy toward him. "The short answer is that as far as I can tell, the hotel is either in a dimensional warp-space or a bubble universe. Effectively, the entire world is about thirty empty miles in whatever direction you travel before you end up back at the hotel."
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"I would vote dimensional warp-space." Not that Wyatt knew what that was. "Someone explained time travel theory to me recently, something about it bending and touching. It sounds like that theory." Plus, Wyatt was sure that it might have been affected by whatever powered the time ship that he, Rufus and Lucy were using.
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"I was part of a time traveling team. I was the one that kept them safe, the soldier. Rufus, he was the pilot and the one that helped to develop the program before I got called in. My gut tells me that there's something at work here, something that keeps the science from reacting to the reality. Even if it's just the stuff that has to be connected to us traveling through time." Wyatt shrugged, "Every time my team and I went back in time to save it, small things were changed."
Some of them not so small like Lucy's sister never existing. Or no matter how many times he tried, he couldn't save his wife from dying that day.
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"Not my first time either," she admitted quietly, trying not to attract any other attention. "Although it's usually less time and more dimension or space for me. And there's almost always a Big Bad at the other end of the journey. So far, there's nothing sinister here." Which didn't mean she'd come off red alert. She wasn't sure she knew how anymore.
Hypervigilance was a bitch.
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Except he knew that Flynn was out to destroy Rittenhous.
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Kitty's fingers tightened around the cup she was holding until she had to either phase or stop or shattered the mug. She almost did neither. She didn't plan to apologize for her anger either.
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His time in World War Two was still fresh and the helplessness of not being allowed to do anything to help. History would be changed. Sometimes Wyatt thought that history should have been changed, but that wasn't up to him.
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Kitty sighed and refilled his coffee. "Part of me would like for you to ask for something stronger, so I could join you. It's not buried particularly deep at all, since I'm telling you about it." Her anger had subsided again, down to simmer below the surface from where it might erupt again at any moment. "Because I'm pretty sure you think I'm talking about World War Two, but I'm not."
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"If not World War Two then when?" It was said with curiosity as well as a bit of dread.
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Once at the table, he paused, allowing her to sit with her back to the wall and vantage point to see all of the activity in the room. While he took the seat that allowed him to see to her side and any activity toward the kitchen.
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She sat and sipped her coffee, watching him for the moment over the rim of the cup. "Do you have superheroes in your world?" It seemed like the easiest place to start.
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"In my world, we do. We're called mutants." We. Not 'they'. Even here. Maybe especially here, Kitty wouldn't deny who she was. No matter what happened. If she lied, all those voices were lost forever.
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He would have liked to have heard that one place at least didn't go down that road.
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"We painted a target on the broad side of the barn." We did. Not they did. Would he hear it, or would she have to spell it out? It was almost better that he hadn't said yet. At least he wasn't so much of a hater he saw mutants everywhere, or a groupie, which was almost worse.
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As a soldier you followed orders and didn't question, he got that, except some orders demanded questions.
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"It wasn't straightforward or any one group of people's fault. Genosha got caught in a battle between humans and mutants, and mutants and mutants. It couldn't have happened without anti-mutant hatred, but I don't even really know who to blame."
That...was possibly the first time she'd said that out loud. Or even "in-loud," because the way it all sounded inside her head was still screams and crumbling buildings.
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