Pietro Maximoff (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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om_main2013-05-10 10:50 pm
om_quicksilver) wrote in om_main2013-05-10 10:50 pm
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Harley and Pietro, backdated to the cast party
Pietro and Harley meet over the drinks--non-alcoholic ones, of course--and compare notes. (And Harley has a new spotter, now!)
Once Pietro left Eames, it was abundantly clear that he needed a serious drink. Alas, he had made a promise, and there were babies and and and. Therefore, as he made his way to the drinks again, it was in search of some sort of non-caffeinated soda or juice or... something. Mixers on a normal night. Tonight, alas. All the drinks.
He sidled up and grabbed some red-looking juice (aha! Cranberry! Best with vodka, dammit!) and said, "Sup, Harley?" to the tiny girl standing there working on her own red solo cup. "Having a good time?"
Harley blinked up at him over the rim of her cup and cut short her sip of orange juice. With a nod and slightly delayed smile she lowered the cup to chest height, where she held it with both hands, completely unaware that it was acting as both shield and security blanket. Wandering alone through the mostly older kids was weird (where were Vance and Victor??), but she wasn't quite friends with most of them and didn't want to interrupt their conversations or whatever... so awkward wandering.
"Yeah," which wasn't an outright lie. She glanced around the party, then back to him. "Is there something you need me to help with?"
Pietro paused, raising his eyebrows... and, come to think of it, couldn't actually recall having a conversation with her that didn't involve the play. Weird. "No. Just, you know. Saying hi." He gestured with his fresh juice, holding it out as if for a toast. "How much vodka you got in that cup?"
Harley was almost disappointed. Gofer duty would've given her something to do at least.
"Um," she glanced into her cup for a contemplative second. Then, with an embarrassed huff, she decided on the truth. "None..."
"Same," Pietro said, his naturally pouty lower lip jutting for effect. He hadn't expected the girl to be drinking, honestly--she was like thirteen and probably weighed fifty pounds soaking wet--but if she was drinking, deffffinitely someone to keep an eye on. "You, me, and Eames, apparently. We'll be the grown-ups?" Scary thought, that. So, so scary. Ha!
Despite her nerves, a mischievous smile stole across her face. "That can't be a good idea."
"Weep for the children of Xavier's, amiright?" Pietro held up his juice in a little toast and winked. Then, still grinning, he raised an eyebrow. "Wait, has someone been telling you bad stories about me? I'm an angel, really."
She giggled and raised her glass too, then promptly sloshed OJ on her hand in her rush to wave off 'bad stories.'
"No- oops - no! Nobody's said anything, and I totally wouldn't listen even if they did," she said with wide-eyed earnestness. Harley was majorly against gossip. ...but quiet observation in drama had left her immensely confused by both Pietro and Eames, and not at all sure they'd make good stand-in grown ups. But she was only kidding! "I just meant-"
"It's okay." Pietro chuckled, unable to leave her hanging any longer. She was just, like, too adorable to be cruel to. "I know what you meant--I was just fucking around. Anyhow, most of the bad stories would be true, so I couldn't even complain.
"That's a joke, by the way." He grinned again, but honestly. "Mostly."
Between the (friendly?) swearing and the mixed answers, Harley had no idea what the joke was anymore, but she tried to smile at him all the same. Looking around for a napkin or something to clean up the juice she'd spilled, her smile turned sheepish. "Dude, I don't think I qualify either. Everyone thinks I'm ten, and apparently I'm clumsier than drunk people." Gotta love that natural gymnast grace, right?
Pietro set down his juice, zipped to the other side of the table to retrieve a napkin for her, zipped back to standing in front of her, and held it out. Poor thing was kinda awkward, even if the way she was built made her look like she'd walk on air. "How old are you, anyhow?" He thought she must be Little Tam's age, but wasn't totally sure.
Harley's face lit up, and she couldn't help a real grin as she accepted the napkin. Watching his super-speed was awesome! So cool. "Thanks!" she said brightly. "I'm thirteen, I swear! But Victor says that still makes me a baby around here."
"I have never seen someone so paranoid about being 'the baby' in my life as Vic." Pietro chuckled again, obviously finding this more adorable than anything else. Of course, he also had a feeling that had more to do with Victor's tendency to crush on older boys, but hey. He had good taste, at least? "He must think you're a godsend. Do you mind if anyone thinks of you as the baby? It can have perks, you know."
"No, I don't really mind, perks are good," Harley agreed cheerfully, wiping her hand and then the table. She'd been the darling of her gym her entire life, so she was well aware - but she'd also been respected as a gymnast. Around here, being a 'baby' and 'adorable' felt kinda dismissive, so she could see how Victor might not like it. "As long as I can be the talented baby or something."
Her cheeks turned pink as she realized how snobby that had probably sounded. "Um, I mean, I don't want to be just the baby, y'know?"
"That seems fair," Pietro said, watching her with evident amusement. Tiny girl was also kind of adorable, yeah. "So, tell me about your talents, and I'll make sure to keep them in mind if I ever have the urge to think of you as 'the baby'."
She glanced around self consciously. Usually she'd just give some kind of demonstration, but there were people everywhere and that would be weird. Plus, Pietro was older and popular and the Director, and Harley really wanted to impress him, because so far she'd been a total useless, clueless kid in drama. She bit her lip, then made a little 'oh!' sound and reached into her pocket (the normal one in her jeans for once) for her phone.
"Hang on, I can totally show you," she said, tongue between her teeth as she flipped through a few screens. Taking video was an important part of training, and she still had some of her pre-Nationals videos on her phone - including a great vault. "Ah! Got it - check it out."
And so, Pietro did. In slow motion, he watched her run, hit the board, and do the most impossible-but-perfect vault ever. His only experience of gymnastics was via the Olympics, but the way she flipped through the air and stuck to the ground upon landing. "Holy shit, girl. Uh, yeah. No worries." His gaze flicked up to her. "You just do this. Like any time. You're like, 'Oh hey, I'm gonna stick a world-class vault, NBD'?"
Her lips twitched as she tried to suppress a proud grin. "Well, I'm not world-class yet," she said honestly, attitude shifting to something more confident and professional. "And I haven't done it that well in competition yet, but I will. I'm gonna be the next Olympic All-Around gold medalist, just wait and see."
The change in her was remarkable, and Pietro suddenly looked at this waif of a girl in a new light. Whether or not she was overestimating herself, he wouldn't know, but it didn't matter. He handed back her phone. "I like the attitude. Can't wait to see it on TV, but it's pretty impressive in person, too. You should totally be on stage, next time."
Harley beamed up at him, trying not to let his comment about TV rattle her (because so far, that had NOT gone well...) as she tucked her phone away. "You can come see it in the gym sometime if you like, I practically live there. I dunno about the stage, though... Maybe if you need a dancer, or like, a stunt woman? I can help with that I bet."
"We should make it a point to do something that needs one or the other next time." Pietro tapped at his bottom lip with his free hand, indenting it thoughtfully. "The Dorian Gray thing was kind of a whim--and a drunk one, so I can't believe how well it's coming out so far. Next time we'll be more democratic. Or something."
There was something comical about the posture as the older boy gazed into the distance, so Harley immediately mimicked his stance, nodding very solemnly as she tapped her own lip. Director pose! "Oh totally," she commented seriously, pretending to draw on her 'vast' knowledge of theater, but her eyes were playful as she waited to see if he'd notice.
And of course he did--superspeed brain didn't allow for much else. He cracked up immediately. "Okay, this is what I'm talking about, you definitely need to be on stage. We're gonna work that out. You're horrible and I like you."
Harley dropped the pose as soon as he laughed, switching to an exaggerated innocent-bystander look. That was the weirdest compliment she'd ever gotten, but she liked it! From anyone else she'd be suspicious, but from Pietro it felt like great praise. "Me, horrible? No way! I'm the baby, remember?'
"Ah, ah, I'm on to you now, girl." He winked and laughed again. "Is it condescending if I tell you that you're adorable? I mean, I only want to tell you that because I think it's nature's way of camouflaging you so no one sees you coming. Evolution is a brilliant thing, really."
She rolled her eyes a little and bit out a dramatic sigh. "I guess not. Curtis said Justice is adorable too, so as long as it's not just me I think it's okay. I'm not sure it's really camouflage though, since we seem to get noticed for it."
"Justice is adorable too," Pietro agreed, retrieving his juice from the table and sipping it. "Maybe it's more like a trap than camo. Like your way of luring us in before you snap the vicious snark trap. I like that even better, actually..." He pretended to be thinking very, very hard again.
Harley giggled. "I don't even know what that means. Is it a good thing?"
"In my book, yes. The best." He smirked a little over his cup, at that.
She raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously. "And which book is that?" Then with a sudden grin, she reached one hand behind her back. "Because I don't think it's in mine..." she pulled A Tale of Two Cities into view and flipped to her bookmark, "...but maybe I just haven't gotten to that part?"
"Oh god." He watched the powers with interest and was about to make a smart remark about how no, she did not just do that--but then he noticed the book and was filled with nerdy glee... which he mostly suppressed, though a genuine smile broke through the smirk. "Okay, yeah, your book is superior. Good taste."
Then, "Waaaaaaaaaait though. I mean, I love some Dickens" --some Dickens, because seriously David Copperfield had almost killed him with boring-- "But does he go everywhere with you, or...?"
Not exactly the perfect party date, there, girl.
Harley was a little confused by Pietro's quick judgy-compliment-judgy turnaround. He could go through complicated things so quickly, it left her a little lost. "Um, he does right now? We're reading it for class. It's soooo long, but it's easy enough to just keep with me and sneak in a few pages here and there."
Tongue between her teeth again, she started putting the book away. Pocketing things was actually more difficult than retrieving them, because her hands had to lead the way (she couldn't instruct the edge of a normal object to disappear, but it would follow her hands). Sinking her hands into the Pocket directly in front of her, she pulled the book halfway through, leaving the top half visible over a slight distortion of the empty air.
"Is worth it. You'll bawl like a baby at the end," he said, this time watching what she was doing very closely and in slow motion, eyes missing nothing--except maybe the part where she seemed a little confused, but he was used to that. More physics breaking powers, or were they? Actually, the most annoying thing about Arthur being mad still (wince!) was that he couldn't ask him. "What else do you keep in there all the time? I mean, so much cooler than a messenger bag, right?"
She shot him a bemused look, wondering how a book that made you cry was worth it.
"Way cooler," she confirmed, "but a little weird sometimes." Pulling her hands back into view, she used the top of the book to drag it sideways around her body and tuck it behind her back again. Once she was sure she had it in the right spot, she pushed it all the way out of sight. It was part of her unofficial sorting system - school stuff in a backpack, right? "It's got my keys, wallet, snacks, water bottle... everything important. Except my phone - no signal."
"The disembodied ringing might trip people out a little, anyhow. Good practical joke potential, though." Again, Pietro had watched, just... wondering. "Where is the little... storage space, anyhow? I mean, it has to be somewhere."
"Um, I call it a Pocket, but it's really more like a bubble with walls made from two, um, realities or something." She pressed her hands together in front of her. "My hands can through both layers, if that makes sense. Tessa taught me about it, but it's really hard to explain," she said, unable to find words for a power she primarily felt.
She giggled with a little embarrassment. "But for practical jokes, sound doesn't come through unfortunately. I missed like five calls from my parents before I realized all the problems with leaving my phone in an alternate dimension. I've figured out some other fun stuff, though - and suggestions totally welcomed!"
Ah, but what realities, and where were they, and were there other things there that Harley's "pocket" was encroaching on, and and and? Pietro's mind was buzzing with possibilities--and yet, he did have the presence of mind to realize this was not party-talk. Anyhow, Tessa could probably explain it better--as in, more in keeping with his impatience. (Where was she, anyhow? Wonder if she brought the clipboard...)
"That's what I figured," he said with another grin, in re the sound not coming through. Such a waste! "But I'm sure between your devious mind and mine, we can come up with some more excellent uses round the house. Since you don't mind suggestions."
"Right now I just sort of hoard all the best snacks. And do cheap magic tricks!" Cheesy performance grin in place, she plucked a coin from behind her own ear, gave it a quick flourish, then put it back with an exaggerated wink. Then she dropped the act like nothing had happened. "So I could totally use some new ideas. Especially devious ones!"
"I can definitely help with devious." Pietro cocked an eyebrow, smiling because... girl's sense of humor... just... wow. So bad it actually made her cuter. "As for the rest--I'm assuming know Sokka? He's on your squad, right?"
She'd sort of met Sokka before. Pietro was right, they were on the same squad. "Um, Alask- I mean, Ricochet, right?" She tried to cover her accidental use of the nickname he had in her head, but the pursed lips and light blush were a dead giveaway. "Tall, ponytail, totally awesome eyes?"
"He's not that tall," Pietro pointed out, smirking a little. He wasn't sure which part of what she'd said was making her blush, but it was cute all the same. "And he informed me that it's a 'warrior's knot', but yes. That's definitely him. Alaska boy. You and him need to be BFFs, with that sense of humor."
"We haven't talked much, he's older," she said, looking away meekly. In her experience, older kids didn't want her around. If Pietro hadn't started the conversation earlier, they wouldn't be talking now - she certainly wouldn't have initiated. There was one sad second as she remembered learning that the older gym girls were not her friends, but she bounced back with a smile. She pointedly craned her neck to look up at him. "And dude - in my world, I'm tall."
"You come from a small world," Pietro quipped. He'd been watching her expression with interest, but didn't so much as raise an eyebrow. "But yeah. You've both definitely got, ah, memorable senses of humor. If he's a dick about being older, just tell me and I'll have a talk with him." There, he grinned--in spite of only being half-joking.
She was about to explain to him how her height and build compared to the Fierce Five when he commented about Sokka. "No! No, he's been nice. He hasn't been a jerk or anything," she rushed to assure him. Sokka hadn't done anything! "No, I just meant that, like, I know you guys don't need a younger kid getting in your way and stuff. I get that, it's fine."
"Well, we don't in general like ogres around here, so consider it a standing offer." Pietro's look was entirely amused there. In spite of having plenty of friends among the younger set--weird that he wasn't, himself, but he guessed he wasn't--he wasn't going to argue too much. "Least I can do for you jumping into the play mid-stream and helping us out. Thanks."
Harley blinked. Ogres? And it wasn't like she did anything important for the show. So he was just being nice... right? Man, this was why Pietro made her nervous sometimes, she couldn't pin down what he was thinking. "Well, I'm sorry I'm not more useful," she told him sincerely, hoping that it was the right thing to say. "It's gonna be awesome though, you guys have all worked so hard. I'm sure everyone will hit it on Sunday!"
"You are super useful" --Pietro waved off her apology with his free hand, utilizing exaggerated laziness to make his point-- "And the play is super awesome."
"Right, super awesome," she confirmed, retrieving her glass with a smile. "I'll raise my orange juice to that!"
Once Pietro left Eames, it was abundantly clear that he needed a serious drink. Alas, he had made a promise, and there were babies and and and. Therefore, as he made his way to the drinks again, it was in search of some sort of non-caffeinated soda or juice or... something. Mixers on a normal night. Tonight, alas. All the drinks.
He sidled up and grabbed some red-looking juice (aha! Cranberry! Best with vodka, dammit!) and said, "Sup, Harley?" to the tiny girl standing there working on her own red solo cup. "Having a good time?"
Harley blinked up at him over the rim of her cup and cut short her sip of orange juice. With a nod and slightly delayed smile she lowered the cup to chest height, where she held it with both hands, completely unaware that it was acting as both shield and security blanket. Wandering alone through the mostly older kids was weird (where were Vance and Victor??), but she wasn't quite friends with most of them and didn't want to interrupt their conversations or whatever... so awkward wandering.
"Yeah," which wasn't an outright lie. She glanced around the party, then back to him. "Is there something you need me to help with?"
Pietro paused, raising his eyebrows... and, come to think of it, couldn't actually recall having a conversation with her that didn't involve the play. Weird. "No. Just, you know. Saying hi." He gestured with his fresh juice, holding it out as if for a toast. "How much vodka you got in that cup?"
Harley was almost disappointed. Gofer duty would've given her something to do at least.
"Um," she glanced into her cup for a contemplative second. Then, with an embarrassed huff, she decided on the truth. "None..."
"Same," Pietro said, his naturally pouty lower lip jutting for effect. He hadn't expected the girl to be drinking, honestly--she was like thirteen and probably weighed fifty pounds soaking wet--but if she was drinking, deffffinitely someone to keep an eye on. "You, me, and Eames, apparently. We'll be the grown-ups?" Scary thought, that. So, so scary. Ha!
Despite her nerves, a mischievous smile stole across her face. "That can't be a good idea."
"Weep for the children of Xavier's, amiright?" Pietro held up his juice in a little toast and winked. Then, still grinning, he raised an eyebrow. "Wait, has someone been telling you bad stories about me? I'm an angel, really."
She giggled and raised her glass too, then promptly sloshed OJ on her hand in her rush to wave off 'bad stories.'
"No- oops - no! Nobody's said anything, and I totally wouldn't listen even if they did," she said with wide-eyed earnestness. Harley was majorly against gossip. ...but quiet observation in drama had left her immensely confused by both Pietro and Eames, and not at all sure they'd make good stand-in grown ups. But she was only kidding! "I just meant-"
"It's okay." Pietro chuckled, unable to leave her hanging any longer. She was just, like, too adorable to be cruel to. "I know what you meant--I was just fucking around. Anyhow, most of the bad stories would be true, so I couldn't even complain.
"That's a joke, by the way." He grinned again, but honestly. "Mostly."
Between the (friendly?) swearing and the mixed answers, Harley had no idea what the joke was anymore, but she tried to smile at him all the same. Looking around for a napkin or something to clean up the juice she'd spilled, her smile turned sheepish. "Dude, I don't think I qualify either. Everyone thinks I'm ten, and apparently I'm clumsier than drunk people." Gotta love that natural gymnast grace, right?
Pietro set down his juice, zipped to the other side of the table to retrieve a napkin for her, zipped back to standing in front of her, and held it out. Poor thing was kinda awkward, even if the way she was built made her look like she'd walk on air. "How old are you, anyhow?" He thought she must be Little Tam's age, but wasn't totally sure.
Harley's face lit up, and she couldn't help a real grin as she accepted the napkin. Watching his super-speed was awesome! So cool. "Thanks!" she said brightly. "I'm thirteen, I swear! But Victor says that still makes me a baby around here."
"I have never seen someone so paranoid about being 'the baby' in my life as Vic." Pietro chuckled again, obviously finding this more adorable than anything else. Of course, he also had a feeling that had more to do with Victor's tendency to crush on older boys, but hey. He had good taste, at least? "He must think you're a godsend. Do you mind if anyone thinks of you as the baby? It can have perks, you know."
"No, I don't really mind, perks are good," Harley agreed cheerfully, wiping her hand and then the table. She'd been the darling of her gym her entire life, so she was well aware - but she'd also been respected as a gymnast. Around here, being a 'baby' and 'adorable' felt kinda dismissive, so she could see how Victor might not like it. "As long as I can be the talented baby or something."
Her cheeks turned pink as she realized how snobby that had probably sounded. "Um, I mean, I don't want to be just the baby, y'know?"
"That seems fair," Pietro said, watching her with evident amusement. Tiny girl was also kind of adorable, yeah. "So, tell me about your talents, and I'll make sure to keep them in mind if I ever have the urge to think of you as 'the baby'."
She glanced around self consciously. Usually she'd just give some kind of demonstration, but there were people everywhere and that would be weird. Plus, Pietro was older and popular and the Director, and Harley really wanted to impress him, because so far she'd been a total useless, clueless kid in drama. She bit her lip, then made a little 'oh!' sound and reached into her pocket (the normal one in her jeans for once) for her phone.
"Hang on, I can totally show you," she said, tongue between her teeth as she flipped through a few screens. Taking video was an important part of training, and she still had some of her pre-Nationals videos on her phone - including a great vault. "Ah! Got it - check it out."
And so, Pietro did. In slow motion, he watched her run, hit the board, and do the most impossible-but-perfect vault ever. His only experience of gymnastics was via the Olympics, but the way she flipped through the air and stuck to the ground upon landing. "Holy shit, girl. Uh, yeah. No worries." His gaze flicked up to her. "You just do this. Like any time. You're like, 'Oh hey, I'm gonna stick a world-class vault, NBD'?"
Her lips twitched as she tried to suppress a proud grin. "Well, I'm not world-class yet," she said honestly, attitude shifting to something more confident and professional. "And I haven't done it that well in competition yet, but I will. I'm gonna be the next Olympic All-Around gold medalist, just wait and see."
The change in her was remarkable, and Pietro suddenly looked at this waif of a girl in a new light. Whether or not she was overestimating herself, he wouldn't know, but it didn't matter. He handed back her phone. "I like the attitude. Can't wait to see it on TV, but it's pretty impressive in person, too. You should totally be on stage, next time."
Harley beamed up at him, trying not to let his comment about TV rattle her (because so far, that had NOT gone well...) as she tucked her phone away. "You can come see it in the gym sometime if you like, I practically live there. I dunno about the stage, though... Maybe if you need a dancer, or like, a stunt woman? I can help with that I bet."
"We should make it a point to do something that needs one or the other next time." Pietro tapped at his bottom lip with his free hand, indenting it thoughtfully. "The Dorian Gray thing was kind of a whim--and a drunk one, so I can't believe how well it's coming out so far. Next time we'll be more democratic. Or something."
There was something comical about the posture as the older boy gazed into the distance, so Harley immediately mimicked his stance, nodding very solemnly as she tapped her own lip. Director pose! "Oh totally," she commented seriously, pretending to draw on her 'vast' knowledge of theater, but her eyes were playful as she waited to see if he'd notice.
And of course he did--superspeed brain didn't allow for much else. He cracked up immediately. "Okay, this is what I'm talking about, you definitely need to be on stage. We're gonna work that out. You're horrible and I like you."
Harley dropped the pose as soon as he laughed, switching to an exaggerated innocent-bystander look. That was the weirdest compliment she'd ever gotten, but she liked it! From anyone else she'd be suspicious, but from Pietro it felt like great praise. "Me, horrible? No way! I'm the baby, remember?'
"Ah, ah, I'm on to you now, girl." He winked and laughed again. "Is it condescending if I tell you that you're adorable? I mean, I only want to tell you that because I think it's nature's way of camouflaging you so no one sees you coming. Evolution is a brilliant thing, really."
She rolled her eyes a little and bit out a dramatic sigh. "I guess not. Curtis said Justice is adorable too, so as long as it's not just me I think it's okay. I'm not sure it's really camouflage though, since we seem to get noticed for it."
"Justice is adorable too," Pietro agreed, retrieving his juice from the table and sipping it. "Maybe it's more like a trap than camo. Like your way of luring us in before you snap the vicious snark trap. I like that even better, actually..." He pretended to be thinking very, very hard again.
Harley giggled. "I don't even know what that means. Is it a good thing?"
"In my book, yes. The best." He smirked a little over his cup, at that.
She raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously. "And which book is that?" Then with a sudden grin, she reached one hand behind her back. "Because I don't think it's in mine..." she pulled A Tale of Two Cities into view and flipped to her bookmark, "...but maybe I just haven't gotten to that part?"
"Oh god." He watched the powers with interest and was about to make a smart remark about how no, she did not just do that--but then he noticed the book and was filled with nerdy glee... which he mostly suppressed, though a genuine smile broke through the smirk. "Okay, yeah, your book is superior. Good taste."
Then, "Waaaaaaaaaait though. I mean, I love some Dickens" --some Dickens, because seriously David Copperfield had almost killed him with boring-- "But does he go everywhere with you, or...?"
Not exactly the perfect party date, there, girl.
Harley was a little confused by Pietro's quick judgy-compliment-judgy turnaround. He could go through complicated things so quickly, it left her a little lost. "Um, he does right now? We're reading it for class. It's soooo long, but it's easy enough to just keep with me and sneak in a few pages here and there."
Tongue between her teeth again, she started putting the book away. Pocketing things was actually more difficult than retrieving them, because her hands had to lead the way (she couldn't instruct the edge of a normal object to disappear, but it would follow her hands). Sinking her hands into the Pocket directly in front of her, she pulled the book halfway through, leaving the top half visible over a slight distortion of the empty air.
"Is worth it. You'll bawl like a baby at the end," he said, this time watching what she was doing very closely and in slow motion, eyes missing nothing--except maybe the part where she seemed a little confused, but he was used to that. More physics breaking powers, or were they? Actually, the most annoying thing about Arthur being mad still (wince!) was that he couldn't ask him. "What else do you keep in there all the time? I mean, so much cooler than a messenger bag, right?"
She shot him a bemused look, wondering how a book that made you cry was worth it.
"Way cooler," she confirmed, "but a little weird sometimes." Pulling her hands back into view, she used the top of the book to drag it sideways around her body and tuck it behind her back again. Once she was sure she had it in the right spot, she pushed it all the way out of sight. It was part of her unofficial sorting system - school stuff in a backpack, right? "It's got my keys, wallet, snacks, water bottle... everything important. Except my phone - no signal."
"The disembodied ringing might trip people out a little, anyhow. Good practical joke potential, though." Again, Pietro had watched, just... wondering. "Where is the little... storage space, anyhow? I mean, it has to be somewhere."
"Um, I call it a Pocket, but it's really more like a bubble with walls made from two, um, realities or something." She pressed her hands together in front of her. "My hands can through both layers, if that makes sense. Tessa taught me about it, but it's really hard to explain," she said, unable to find words for a power she primarily felt.
She giggled with a little embarrassment. "But for practical jokes, sound doesn't come through unfortunately. I missed like five calls from my parents before I realized all the problems with leaving my phone in an alternate dimension. I've figured out some other fun stuff, though - and suggestions totally welcomed!"
Ah, but what realities, and where were they, and were there other things there that Harley's "pocket" was encroaching on, and and and? Pietro's mind was buzzing with possibilities--and yet, he did have the presence of mind to realize this was not party-talk. Anyhow, Tessa could probably explain it better--as in, more in keeping with his impatience. (Where was she, anyhow? Wonder if she brought the clipboard...)
"That's what I figured," he said with another grin, in re the sound not coming through. Such a waste! "But I'm sure between your devious mind and mine, we can come up with some more excellent uses round the house. Since you don't mind suggestions."
"Right now I just sort of hoard all the best snacks. And do cheap magic tricks!" Cheesy performance grin in place, she plucked a coin from behind her own ear, gave it a quick flourish, then put it back with an exaggerated wink. Then she dropped the act like nothing had happened. "So I could totally use some new ideas. Especially devious ones!"
"I can definitely help with devious." Pietro cocked an eyebrow, smiling because... girl's sense of humor... just... wow. So bad it actually made her cuter. "As for the rest--I'm assuming know Sokka? He's on your squad, right?"
She'd sort of met Sokka before. Pietro was right, they were on the same squad. "Um, Alask- I mean, Ricochet, right?" She tried to cover her accidental use of the nickname he had in her head, but the pursed lips and light blush were a dead giveaway. "Tall, ponytail, totally awesome eyes?"
"He's not that tall," Pietro pointed out, smirking a little. He wasn't sure which part of what she'd said was making her blush, but it was cute all the same. "And he informed me that it's a 'warrior's knot', but yes. That's definitely him. Alaska boy. You and him need to be BFFs, with that sense of humor."
"We haven't talked much, he's older," she said, looking away meekly. In her experience, older kids didn't want her around. If Pietro hadn't started the conversation earlier, they wouldn't be talking now - she certainly wouldn't have initiated. There was one sad second as she remembered learning that the older gym girls were not her friends, but she bounced back with a smile. She pointedly craned her neck to look up at him. "And dude - in my world, I'm tall."
"You come from a small world," Pietro quipped. He'd been watching her expression with interest, but didn't so much as raise an eyebrow. "But yeah. You've both definitely got, ah, memorable senses of humor. If he's a dick about being older, just tell me and I'll have a talk with him." There, he grinned--in spite of only being half-joking.
She was about to explain to him how her height and build compared to the Fierce Five when he commented about Sokka. "No! No, he's been nice. He hasn't been a jerk or anything," she rushed to assure him. Sokka hadn't done anything! "No, I just meant that, like, I know you guys don't need a younger kid getting in your way and stuff. I get that, it's fine."
"Well, we don't in general like ogres around here, so consider it a standing offer." Pietro's look was entirely amused there. In spite of having plenty of friends among the younger set--weird that he wasn't, himself, but he guessed he wasn't--he wasn't going to argue too much. "Least I can do for you jumping into the play mid-stream and helping us out. Thanks."
Harley blinked. Ogres? And it wasn't like she did anything important for the show. So he was just being nice... right? Man, this was why Pietro made her nervous sometimes, she couldn't pin down what he was thinking. "Well, I'm sorry I'm not more useful," she told him sincerely, hoping that it was the right thing to say. "It's gonna be awesome though, you guys have all worked so hard. I'm sure everyone will hit it on Sunday!"
"You are super useful" --Pietro waved off her apology with his free hand, utilizing exaggerated laziness to make his point-- "And the play is super awesome."
"Right, super awesome," she confirmed, retrieving her glass with a smile. "I'll raise my orange juice to that!"