The Lumberjack

July 28, 2014:An impromptu family reunion in an unlikely place: The Northwest Territories.

The Woods, Northwest Territories, Canada

Lots of trees, and loggers, and logs.



  • Logger 1
  • Logger 2

Mood Music:

The sun is shining, the wind is mild. Overall, a great day to be working outside. But it's even more remarkable that the weather is so mild when one considers the location. The forests of the Northwest Territories of Canada are about as close to the the Arctic as any sane person would ever want to get. But then it takes a certain degree of either insanity or desperation to want to hang around in the woods with a crew like this.

Loggers, or lumberjacks as the uninformed might call them, dot the landscape of a major clearcutting operation. Nearly a square mile of land has been cleared away, leaving a bunch of rough stumps behind. "I swear to god, if that crazy Russian bastard doesn't stop singing Cyndi Lauper songs while I'm trying to sleep I'm gonna cave his head in."

"You talking about Grigori?"

"Of course I'm talking about Grigori! Where the hell does he keep getting vodka from anyway? He's only got the one duffel bag."

"Hey man, at least he's moved on from Neil Diamond."

"Yeah… yeah…"

A couple hundred meters away from the rest of the loggers, 'Grigori' is off doing his own thing. He appears to be more than comfortable taking a chainsaw to a tree without any help around, if the pile of logs stacked on the truckbed behind him is any indication.

He appears to be doing his best to keep the 'crazy Russian bastard' reputation going, as he seems to be talking to either himself, his chainsaw, or the trees. His mouth is moving, but the steady buzz of the chainsaw covers up whatever it is that he's saying. But as he finishes a cut, he lets off the trigger, reducing the noise enough for his words to be heard.

"… could taste your sweet kisses, your arms opened wide, this fever for you was just burning me up insiiiiiiIIIIIIIiiiiide…" It'd be nice to say that he carries the tune well, but he basically sounds… well… like a drunken lumberjack singing 'I Drove All Night.'

Which is, of course, exactly what he is.

It may be the middle of nowhere, but it's still only a breath away for someone with the teleport range of one Illyana Nikolievna Rasputina. Of course she's waited until he's a fair distance from the other loggers, because explaining what a pretty blonde girl is doing out here would take some 'splainin'.

A pinecone smacks into 'Grigori's shoulder and, if he ignores that another gets aimed at him. At his ear protection if he's wearing any. Off to the side, deeper into the shadows and the canopy is Illyana. Her attire is fairly usual for her: agressive, shit-kicking boots that come up to her knees, fastened with silver skull buckles, worn bluejeans and an NYU T-shirt. It's on the more casual side of her attire. She smirks over at him, brows arched up in amusement to his antics.

"Chto?" It's usually not a good idea to chuck things at someone who's holding a running chainsaw. Unless you're relatively certain that he won't use it on you, which Illyana certainly seems to be. He pulls on of his ear muffs back, revealing the MP3 earbud underneath, which he also pulls out. Apparently he's not convinced that whoever is trying to get his attention is here with good intentions, because he leaves the chainsaw running as he takes a few steps into the woodline. It's only when he gets a good look at his visitor that his expression changes from potentially hostile to borderline overjoyed.

«Little Snowflake?! Is that you?.» The chainsaw gets switched off and tossed on the ground in a manner that probably voids the warranty, and then the Bluto-looking bear of a man virtually races forward with his arms outspread. Anyone who has ever been hugged by an enthusiastic bodybuilder probably has some idea of what's in store for Illyana, but it's even more grueling when one considers that he's been out in the woods for weeks cutting down trees.

"Oh, it's so good to see you. You should not be here because you'll blow my cover, and you look like a hooker, but I'm so happy."

Those that know Illyana will tell you that she doesn't smile. She smirks, she grins in an agressive, feral sort of manner, and occasionally a small, often sad smile can be coaxed out of her. But not this. Not this smile that is wide enough to make her cheeks hurt and throws warm sunlight into those often hard, cold blue eyes. She goes up on tiptoes as he rushes towards her, arms coming up so he has a clear field to hug her, likely taking her off of her feet in the process.

Illyana's arms come around his neck as she hugs him back hard, clinging just a bit and he gets a bubbling laugh. Illyana around her brother is very little like the Illyana that most know. "You stink!" She tells him with amusement, but makes no sign of letting him go anytime soon. "I think your cover can handle you sneaking off for a couple of minutes and hey!" Illyana leans back enough to smack his shoulder which does *nothing* of course. "I do *not* look like a hooker!" She even made sure not to wear any leather! Well. Except for the boots.

'Taking her off of her feet' is a bit of an understatement. The way that he wraps his arms around her waist, lifts her up, and begins squeezing one might think they were watching somebody pracice a routine for a WWE match. Hopefully, she didn't plan to use her ribcage for anything important anytime soon.

As he sets her back down he takes a step back, putting a bit of air between his stench and his visitor's nostrils. "No, is not the smell of stink. Is the smell of honest work. I change my shirt every couple of days, sometimes I bathe in the creek. Is glorious. But this…"

He takes another step back. "Let me look at you. Maybe is not 'hooker'… You are just so grown up."

"I hate it. Is boolsheet."

For Piotr, Illyana went from six to fourteen in the space of a few moment and then got packed away to Xavier's. Even with the contact they've had since, it likely never gave him a chance to really adjust to the tiny baby he once held in his hands being suddenly so much older. So many years lost.

"Every few *days*?" Illyana wrinkles her nose, making her look almost cute and definitely younger. "You and your obsession with dirt." She teases. He is after all, born a farmer. She barely remembers that time of her life. Setting her hands on hips, she looks down at herself and then at him. "I'm pretty sure I'm well into 'conservative' today, big brother." She's not even flashing her midriff! "So how long are you planning to hide out here? Makes visiting kind of a pain."

"Hiding? Who is hiding? This is not correct. I like it here. There is lots of stuff to chop down. I have an iPod Nano full of music. We deep-fried a moose a few days ago." 'Grigori' scratches awkwardly at the back of his neck. His hair has grown out past his collar and is working it's way steadily down his back. It's possible she wouldn't have recognized him if she had simply seen him on the street instead of teleporting to his exact location.

"I think we still have fried moose meat on ice, if you want to take some home."

"It goes really well with vodka."

It certainly got a doubletake when she located him with her scrying crystal. Luckily for her their shared blood makes it pretty easy to be sure of her target. "A moose." Illyana says, rather deadpan and then shakes her head. "Did you just drop the thing in whole?" She teases, closing the short distance so she can hug him tightly again. Even if he is sweaty. She'll risk a hell of a lot more than some BO to hug her brother.

"Anywhere I have to worry about blowing your cover to visit you? Is hiding." Illyana says, because hey. It's all about her. OK, not when it comes to Piotr but still. It's definitely getting in the way. "Can I at least steal you away for a weekend soon or something? We can go out dancing and drinking?"

Hopefully Piotr won't be inspired to crack skulls seeing the way his little sister likes to dance again. After his time in New York with her dropping in on him to drag him out on occasion…

"I know… but this is for the best. At least for now. I've made some bad choices and I've got to take the punishment for them. So for now, that means I have to stay away from you."

Out in the distance, the sounds of loggers going about their business can be heard. Nobody seems to be sending a rescue party for Piotr yet, but he casts a look in that direction anyway. Despite his attempts to remain casual, it's clear that her visit has stirred up some emotions that he's probably better off not feeling right now. "Look I… probably shouldn't stay out here long. Is not good to get a reputation for laziness. Take care, Illyana."

He turns away a bit abruptly, and starts walking back toward his truck. On the way, he pauses to stoop and pick up his chainsaw. "By the way, I forbid it that you should be drinking. You need to focus on your schoolwork." And with that, he heads back out of the woodline.

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