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Post by Beriadan on Dec 8, 2023 19:23:54 GMT
It was a cold morning over Maldon, even as the sun rose towards midday and sloughing off the layer of frost from the ground and the cold from the air. The world was quiet surrounding Braddock Manor, save for a rhythmic sound of metal on metal. This wasn't the most unusual things in the world these days, but it broke the silence of the country around it, bringing back a bit of what the Manor had been several decades before.
"Bollocks!"
The old coach house was the source of the noise. An old Royal Enfield motorbike was being rebuilt, though the sounds of mechanical work seemed to be growing more and more frustrated.
"Bugger bollocks shit!"
Betsy sucked her throbbing thumb as she sat back on her arse, glaring at the bike. She had just struck her hand with a wrench, trying to fix this old bike manually without the use of her powers. Her idea had been to try and gain mechanical knowledge herself, without relying on other people. Yes, Betsy could fly, but sometimes it felt good to be normal. Still, this was frustrating.
"Stupid bloody thing. I bet Captain America doesn't have to do this kind of bloody thing. He's probably got a team that does it for him!"
Betsy got to her feet, hands on hips, staring at the disassembled bike with a frown.
"That's stupid. He was an actual serving soldier, right? Of course he can fix a bike. Betsy, you arse. Ugh, I give up! What a load of wank."
Betsy tossed her wrench into a pile of tools and metal, shaking her head as she turned away, wiping her hands with an oily rag.
"I'll just call the RAC next time I have a breakdown. Can't be dealing with all of this bollocks. Betsy, you can fly! Why am I even bothering?"
She laughed, tossing the rag into the garage and closing the door behind her. It was cold, a real nip in the air. A nice hot cup of tea would go down extremely well right now.
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Post by Bixir on Dec 13, 2023 7:35:15 GMT
It was a brisk afternoon in Maldon. Kent had had worn his Cambridge vest today along with the common shirt beneath and the windbreaker over. The weather was characteristically cloudy, casting the bittersweet dreary for which Kent had become so familiar with. It was a world away from his new home, a tangerine sunrise that he had left but moments ago. Presiding over the Tower of Fate. No more flying coach. It was no substitute for a constitutional, though. Kent had made sure to drop himself off at least a few blocks from his destination so that he could enjoy the part of the trip that mattered most. He smiled to those he walked past, who were quick to look past him. Kent smiled to himself. That was one thing that never changed, it seemed. No one had time for their fellow man. He appreciated the local flora, and the numerous corner stores that were only local to this quiet town. In that sense, this was quite like dear Ivy. People, permitted to be people. A rare thing indeed. Kent walked into the afternoon cafe. It was a hole in the wall, the kind that Kent had an interest in. Homely, pleasant, and most importantly, not corporate. No matter where you got your fill, there was nothing like local flavor, no matter where you were in the world. He gave a quick wave to the woman behind the counter. She recognized him at once; she was one of the few in Maldon who did. "Good afternoon, Nat. The usual, please."A soft herbal tree, with a slice of sponge and biscuits, cream custard. It had been Kent's go-to for... was it sixty years now? The man pondered his senility with a furrowing of the brow. Kent exhaled, content, as he dabbed a biscuit in the cup before taking a bite. He deliberated on his chewing, savoring every morsel. Eventually, he swallowed, his eyes closed as he felt the refreshing mix of cream and grain wash down his throat. He opened his eyes looking straight at the front door to this cafe. Today was a special occasion. |
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Post by Beriadan on Dec 14, 2023 12:20:40 GMT
Betsy had spent the morning working on her father's old bike, taking her mind off of the afternoon event that had been hanging heavy over her head for the last week. It said a lot about the old man, considering he had been from the Otherworld originally. The fact he took such an interest in an old motorbike in the first place showed his curiosity. Betsy had inherited it, seperate from the mansion that she and her brothers shared.
Sometimes she felt more like the bike than anything. Betsy was like a link between worlds, the old meets the new, Earth and the Otherworld colliding at a point. Perhaps that was why she was trying so hard to become attune to it. Perhaps that was why, after several years of working on it, she hadn't given up.
Betsy wrapped up warm, a knitted scarf, green tweed jacket, a bobble hat pulled over her lilac hair. She picked up the letter that had landed through her door the week before. She studied it again, nodding to herself. It was time to face the music, or whatever waited for her at the tea house in Maldon town. She was humming to herself as she closed the door behind her. Betsy often hummed without realising it when she was stressed.
And what be more stressful than the summons she had received? A letter from a seemingly inconsequential name; Kent Nelson, previous MP for Cambridgeshire and professor at the University there. It would seem strange to get an invitation to afternoon tea by someone Betsy had never interacted with before, if she didn't have the knowledge that her brother had passed on to her when she took Captain Britain's mantle.
Kent Nelson, a.k.a. Doctor Fate.
Betsy walked the few miles to Maldon. Well, she floated when she couldn't see anyone around, a few inches off the floor. The cold early afternoon bit at her face, making her glad of her warm clothes and scarf. The town loomed ahead, and she walked normally until she reached the cafe mentioned in the letter. The outer walls matched her hair, and Betsy gave a grim smile. On purpose? Or was this just, dare she say it, Fate?
Betsy entered, scoping out the people within. She spotted Kent, who was already looking her way. She gave him a broad smile, which hopefully didn't come across as panicked, and a wave. She ordered a pot of tea from the waitress, with a plate of chocolate digestives and a slice of red velvet cake. Betsy indicated she would be sitting with the handsome older gentleman with the custard creams, before walking over there.
"Hi. Mr. Nelson?"
Betsy smiled again at him, standing by the table, holding out her hand for a shake.
"Betsy Braddock. Thanks for the invite."
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Post by Bixir on Dec 16, 2023 7:17:42 GMT
When Betsy Bradddock entered the cafe, Kent Nelson did not look up, or stand up, for his eyes met hers as soon as she entered. The subtle exchange of greetings through body language was instantaneous. Once she reached the table, however, Kent did stand to meet her with a firm handshake. In spite of the weather, his hands were warm.
"The one and the same. It is good to meet you, Miss Braddock. Or is it Dame?" He smiled, ruefully, knowingly. The identity of Captain Britain was a matter of public record, of course, though to speak of it so plainly was a different thing altogether. "It is a pleasure to meet you in person. Please. My friends call me Kent."
Kent settled back into his seat before Betsy did the same. He leaned his arms against the wooden table, at ease as a man his incalculable age could be. "How are things?"
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Post by Beriadan on Dec 16, 2023 7:53:41 GMT
Betsy's return handshake was firm and strong as well. It spoke of a confidence that perhaps wasn't showing just yet, from the nervous smile she was giving Kent. As he sat, she did too, making herself conformable as she looked around the inside of the cafe. Cute, quaint and with a delicious aroma of baking pastries. She smiled at Kent. An attempt at at a joke? Betsy wasn't sure what she had been expecting from Doctor Fate, but all of her ideas were out of the window, even at this point.
"Well, Kent, my friends call me Betsy. But if you want formality, Captain is fine! I've not officially been knighted by our monarch... yet!"
She had been knighted, but not on this plane of reality. Betsy had received commendation from the Otherworld, but she still wasn't sure what that actually meant. She leant back on her chair as a pot of tea was put before her, leaving it to brew for a moment as she prepared her cup; a splash of milk and four sugars.
"Hm. Where to begin with that question? The simple answer is 'fine'. The longer answer..."
Was that she had spent the last few years getting used to the mantle of Captain Britain. Getting used to traversing in and out the Otherworld, fighting strange monsters and wild beasts, negotiating with clans and kingdoms, all while trying to maintain Braddock Manor and her brothers. She gave him a little smile.
"The longer answer is also fine, I think! I mean, you know about the whole... hero thing. I've been doing it for a while, of course, but this new role is far more intense than being an X-men."
Betsy laughed, watching Kent with a slightly nervous look. Doctor Fate was sitting before her, and they were sipping tea and sharing stories like old friends. It was an incredibly confusing situation for her mind. Relax, Betsy... you're a big name in the global hero community now.
"How about you, Kent? How are you?"
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Post by Bixir on Dec 17, 2023 2:32:52 GMT
One of the most powerful champions on the planet - perhaps even the multiverse itself - and Their Royal Highness had not seen fit to grant knighthood? Those "honors" had been given for far less, to those who would never deserve it in their life. Was it mutant bigotry? Betsy's progressive character? Good old-fashioned bureaucracy? Kent put two fingers to his temple. He mused on the thoughts, but kept them to himself.
Kent held in a laugh. Unlike him, talking to younger generations never got old. He raised his teacup to his lips and took a sip. "My son got a promotion today. We had a lovely conversation about it this morning. Perhaps now he'll be able to afford visiting his dear old da'.
Kent removed his fingers from his temple. Looking down, he took a custard cream, dipping into his tea and took a bite. He smiled at Betsy, gauging her reaction.
"Have you been able to have time for yourself, Betsy? Time that isn't spent saving the world?"
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Post by Beriadan on Dec 22, 2023 18:06:14 GMT
Betsy smiled at the answer. It wasn't what she expected, but what had she expected, really? A well-known Superhero, master of the magic arts, founder of one of the greatest collection of powerful individuals in the world... but here they were, drinking tea and chatting like old friends. Betsy's smile widened. She was relaxing, partly from the tea, partly from Kent's company.
The question gave her some pause. Time for herself? When had she ever? Her brother Jamie took a lot of time from her life, just making sure he didn't snap and try and create his own reality again. There was the Otherworld, the Captain Britain Corps that she was head of, the Manor to run, her father's old bike... but there were moments. She placed her cup down, the China clinking together.
"I guess so. I mean, I don't know for sure what time to myself actually means. Since I was a kid, I've been... otherwise engaged. The Professor always had things for us to do, and then it was taking on the mantle after... she came."
Betsy paused, not speaking too openly. They were both known heroes, but it was nice not to attract attention for once.
"But you get it, right, Kent? The job becomes your life, not at any specific moment but just gradually enough that, by the time it's too late, you're doing it full-time! I do get an hour in the morning though, most days. Before the sun rises, with a cup of coffee. I like to make that just time for me."
Betsy laughed, leaning back and helping herself to a bourbon.
"It's just the lot we've been drawn. I've been given some serious responsibility, and that means giving my life to something bigger than me. Hobbies take a bit of a back seat when you have the universe to worry about!"
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Post by Bixir on Dec 22, 2023 23:02:36 GMT
”Does it have to?”
Kent’s tone was sincere, and the fact that he was dipping a custard cream into his tea when he said this, one could swear that he was talking about something much less trivial than the weighty, complicated lives that they led behind masks and vows. The charming smile on his face would serve as the biggest hint for Betsy. He took a bite out of the custard, and then another, savoring the taste.
”I have been doing this for a very long time, Betsy. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be doing this. This life has many guarantees. I can safely bet the royal treasury that there will be an attack as London as sure as the sun rises. Or that this is the best tea in the county.” Kent gripped the cup firmly, then raised it in a toast, and took a sip. The man’s grin turned into an open smile, baring teeth. His eyes watched Betsy closely. There was not fear, disappointment, or even concern there. But there was a knowingness to them.
”But I cannot guarantee a life. Something that you will remember, and I don't mean war stories. People that you met, games you played. Things that didn’t involve saving the world. You will only find these memories if you make time for them. Whether you do or don’t is your choice, Betsy. I’m not your granddad, and this isn’t an intervention.”
Kent folded his arms, leaning forward against the table. ”But every time I see you, you are tired, and I’m not sure if anyone has told you that… or if you would let them!” He leaned back into his chair, smiling. The woman was as stubborn as he was at her age. More, honestly.
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Post by Beriadan on Dec 28, 2023 12:09:23 GMT
Betsy smiled faintly as she listened to Kent speak. He was so... real. So human and solid, despite his grandeur and status. She crossed her arms on the table, weighing his words across the scales of her mind. Of course... there was a lot she had come to regret. Betsy had missed what she would call "a normal youth", unable to enjoy her teenage years or even her twenties without something happening. The Institute, then the X-men, and now Excalibur... it was as if life hadn't given her a chance to stop and be normal.
Betsy lifted her cup, mimicking Kent's toast, and taking a sip. It was bloody good tea. A good blend of leaves, fresh milk... Betsy took another sip, then leant back, watching Kent with passive eyes.
"I feel tired. I feel tired most of the time. I don't sleep heavily anymore, just in case something happens. What if I sleep through the destruction of Manchester? Or Nottingham gets stolen to the Otherworld while I'm having a lie in?"
Betsy smiled, shaking her head. It was a constant worry, a sense of anxiety on her shoulders.
"But, ah... I'm not sure I know anything outside of this, now. I have my brothers, of course, when Brian isn't off doing his Captain Avalon thing, and when Jamie is... himself. And I've got friends... well, I keep in contact with the Professor and others across the pond."
Betsy looked across at Kent, her brow furrowed as she really thought about his words.
"Kent... sometimes I wonder if I'll get the chance to do anything else. Sometimes, I just don't think about it. Other people get to make these memories. I know you speak from great experience, but... I just don't know how to stop."
Betsy gave him a weak smile, taking a sip of her tea and watching the caramel-coloured liquid swirl in the cup.
"I think I'm too far into this life to do anything else. Do you know what I mean?"
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Post by Bixir on Dec 30, 2023 4:32:13 GMT
Kent’s face was implacable. The man was historically difficult to read. His eyebrows shifted slightly, like someone giving away a mild tell at the rummy table. Anyone knew that calling someone as old as Kent Nelson “real” was perhaps one of the most sincere compliments that they could give. Did Betsy know what she was saying? Kent didn’t believe she was blowing smoke. The girl had been wearing her heart on her sleeve ever since she had learned to walk. Perhaps a little too proudly.
The thought made Kent break face, and smile. ”Isn’t the up-and-coming youngster supposed to be the optimist, not the old coot?” He reached for one of his custard creams. “Allow me to put it like this. Suppose that the unthinkable does happen. While Betsy Braddock is sleeping off the ‘nog, dear Manchester United gets carried away by some Warwolves.” Kent dipped his snack into his tea, then held it over his teacup with two hands. ”Now, we can swallow our pride over how we have failed this city, and get on with setting things to rights…” Kent shook his head as he dangled the custard cream precariously over the cup, in peril but not lost. ”Or, there is to be no sleep, but constant vigilance, keeping on through the might without a wink, Viva La Britannia! Then, when our Captain comes up against her next battle…”
snap
Kent offered the front piece of the broken custard cream to Betsy, then nibbled on the piece he left for himself. Throughout all of this, Kent was smiling - sincerely, not smugly. ”You came here to meet with me. I did not specify any urgency or pressing business with your duties - only that there was something I wished to discuss with you. You could have chosen to bugger me and get on with this or that thing for the crown, or the other crown. But you’re here, having tea and custard with a man from the wrong century.”
Kent reclined back into his chair, studying Betsy. She was so hard on herself. Was this what Otherworld did to people? Kent dared not ask. The Matter of Fate on one Earth was enough for him. ”Escaping the life for an afternoon is not as difficult as you think, my dear. There will always be another crisis.”
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Post by Beriadan on Jan 7, 2024 12:50:35 GMT
Betsy listened to Kent's words, took the offered custard cream, dipped it in her tea as he spoke. She looked up when he finished, allowing his wisdom to wash over her in one long, interrupted wave. Betsy took a deep sip of her tea, eyes closed, before she let out a little sigh.
"You know the funny thing, Kent? I came here exactly because I thought it was urgent. Even now, I'm on the edge of my seat, like you're about to tell me that the world is ending and I'm needed for action. Hell's bells, I actually can't switch off."
Betsy laughed, leaning back in her seat, watching Kent with an exasperated look. He had come out of nowhere to give her this afternoon tea and therapy session, and it was something she had apparently needed for the past decade.
"I'm only human. Well, it's not entirely true. I'm half-human, merged with the X-gene, with the weight of both this world and all others on my shoulders... but if I come to work tired every morning, then I'm not bringing my best. And I can't drink coffee like your colleagues in the League."
Betsy smiled to Kent, and perhaps a little to herself. Then she wrinkled her nose, frowning with genuine confusion. It was as if something had struck her, a wild thought that came out of nowhere, but suddenly reminded her of the setting she sat in.
"Why are you here, though? I don't mean to be rude, honestly. I just... well, it's not like we knew each other when I was on the X-Men team, and I've not been Captain Britain for long enough to do much beside look fantastic in a cape. It suddenly struck me how bizarre it is to be sitting across from you, of all people, enjoying tea and biscuits!"
Betsy cocked her head as she stared at the other hero, her eyes twinkling with interest and curiosity. Surely it wasn't just professional or personal courtesy. Doctor Fate and Captain Britain didn't just meet up to chew the fat. She didn't want to pry, and Kent's business was his own, but... was it more than Kent's business at play?
"I mean, really, don't get me wrong. This has been a lovely encounter, and the Betsy in me is so excited to finally have met you. Like, I'm pretty sure I've still got a poster of you and the rest of the Justice Society somewhere that dad gave me, but... the Superhero in me is dubious. Did you really just drop in for a cuppa? Or is there something more at work here?"
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Post by Bixir on May 9, 2024 2:02:23 GMT
Kent maintained his smile. Betsy was a sharp one, when she allowed herself to be. She moved so quickly, one wondered that she never stopped for the roses every once in a while. Kent knew many workaholics in his long lives (he had been one of them, after all). Watching Betsy go through the motions of realization was secondhand catharsis that he had been hoping to find today.
He raised an eyebrow. It was practically a challenge, with the way Betsy took things. Kent however, remained perfectly composed - and not in a serious way, mind. One would never look at him now and suspect that he was a vigilant sorcerer. "Does it need to be? Suppose I indulge this question. If this was simply a courtesy call between friends: what would you do?" For a moment, his eyes move to the door across the way, awaiting outside, then back to Betsy. He watched her closely. "Would you leave?"
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Post by Beriadan on May 12, 2024 9:26:53 GMT
"Well-"
Betsy paused before she answered any further. A courtesy call between friends. When had she even last experienced that? Not because her friends weren't amazing, far from it, but the X-Men were half a world away. Her brothers, obviously, didn't count. Excalibur contained more colleagues than friends, and that left... she raised her eyes to Kent, smiling shyly, a far cry from her usual demeanour.
"Let's just say... it's been a while since I've had one."
As a distraction, she poured both herself and Kent more tea from the pot on the table, focusing on that while she caught her inner breath.
"Since I came back to England, when I helped my brother stop Enchantress and create Excalibur... there's not been any chance. Okay," she said, eyes darting up to Kent with a coy smile, "there may have been more time if I wasn't so focused on the role, but..."
Betsy carefully placed the pot back down, took a sip of the hot brown drink with her eyes closed. As she swallowed, she let out a sigh.
"...I don't know if I have anyone who could call on me as a friend. Not without some serious mileage, anyway. So... I guess I'm a bit rusty when it comes to courtesy calls."
Betsy looked at Kent again, giving a little half shrug as she spoke, then placed the cup down.
"The truth is... I've forgotten what it's like to be contacted as Betsy, and not as Captain Britain. But... if this is a courtesy call between friends-"
She smiled with warmth, staring the old hero straight in the eye with a glimmer of thankfulness.
"Then, no. I wouldn't just leave. Not even for a lifetime's worth of this tea. I remember how much fun I had, back when I had friends who I could call on."
Flashes of the X-Men went through her mind, her old friends in the mansion that she had laughed, loved and lost with. It made her feel melancholy, sad, and she took another drink to try and quell her emotions.
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Post by Bixir on May 20, 2024 17:41:49 GMT
The old man smiled in his eyes. There were times in this conversation when he wondered if Betsy's sense of duty would take charge and depart from this establishment in such a manner. He was grateful to see that this was not the case. It was almost as amusing, then, to hear Betsy talk about her seeming lack of friends. She was Captain bloody Britain! Was this how he had sounded to Inza?
"Betsy. Have you tried speaking to the people in your life? Your colleagues count, too. You don't always have to talk about saving the world. Are you telling me you have not had a day out with..." Kent paused, mustering his memory. It was not often that he interacted with the superheroes of his native country, which was its own quandary, for different reasons. "Meggan? Vera? Even the X-Men. The pond is a much smaller gap than personal trepidation, in my experience."
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Post by Beriadan on Aug 3, 2024 18:23:28 GMT
"Well, yeah. I mean... Meggan is different. I'm her sister, and she means she world to me, as much as Brian. But..."
Betsy lapsed into a thoughtful silence, taking the chance to take a sip of her tea as it cooled before her. Her brow was furrowed, knitted together in a way that betrayed her feelings. When did she last talk openenly with her friends, family? Kent was bringing to the surface a lot of troubling thoughts. Was it her? Was it them? Was it her dedication to the job that stopped them reaching out, or was it her dedication to the job that gave her a reason not to do so herself?
Betsy placed the cup before her, giving an exasperated little laugh. Her eyes flicked up to Kent, and in there was a tinge of regret.
"...maybe I've been using the Mantle to squirrel myself away a bit. Maybe it's more than what I think it is. I don't want to turn you into my personal therapist here, but I guess I've been pushing myself so hard that I've not had to express myself much. Is that wrong? Ugh... even saying it makes me feel a bit queezy!"
Betsy sighed, a deep one, right from the base of her chest, a hand running through her vividly purple hair. A moral quandary, and not a good one at that. Could she be really that selfish?
"Bollocks... I've been fooling myself. All my good friends that have probably been thinking I'm too busy to pick up the phone because of what I do. Captain Britian has taken over my life, and not left any room for anyone else!"
Betsy pauded again, long enough to drop her head onto the table with a loud thunk, making her and Kent's mug quiver where they stood. Muffled, she sounded defeated now. Quiet, and upset.
"Captain bloody Britain... I've been an absolute mug, ignoring my friends, running myself ragged... I bet Brian made time for his closest chums. He made time for me!"
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