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Aug. 11th, 2006 01:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
steelartisanIt's something people forget about Piotr. Peter.
That he grew up on a farm in Siberia during the height of power of the USSR. That he is a communist.
Not was. Is. There was no past tense.
He didn't bother with politics. Not because he didn't understand, (he was a big, bulking hunk of a man; he knew what people thought.) but because he didn't agree. His life may not have been glamorous compared to suburban American life, but he was never hungry growing up. He had a vast field to play in, fresh paints and canvas once a month, and his mother's cooking was always the best to come home too after a morning in the fields and an afternoon at school.
He would have been happy to serve his country, when the time would have come. He had tried when he had returned to Russia, briefly, even when some of the young men he grew up with had called him traitor. Even when the military said they would not take him because he was a mutant (wasn't human). Not as anything beyond a test subject. He was a patriot. And he was proud of his roots.
He doesn't agree with what's happened. Congress bills or reality tv shows where "super heroes" record themselves blowing up schools.
He remembers who held him all those years, using his genetics to make a mutant "cure". And he knows exactly what he wants to do to each and every one of them for every scar his body healed away.
And Xavier's dream had been a beautiful one. But even his old teacher doesn't believe in his old philosophy. Not any more. Maybe all youthful dreams have to die, one day.
That's what he thinks as he looks down (down, down) at Tony Stark. Iron Man. What have you.
"So, you're the Man of Steel?" He asks Piotr.
"Da."
"Are you really bullet proof?"
"Da."
"Got anything besides a monosyllable vocabulary?"
Piotr smirks. "Da."
Mr. Stark smirks right back. "Come on, say it. Moo--"
"I put men through walls for that joke," is his deadpan response. Kitty, Kurt, and even Logan used to tease him with that badly drawn moose cartoon. And it hurts how long ago that was.
"I think I have just the job for you, Mr. Rasputin."
That he grew up on a farm in Siberia during the height of power of the USSR. That he is a communist.
Not was. Is. There was no past tense.
He didn't bother with politics. Not because he didn't understand, (he was a big, bulking hunk of a man; he knew what people thought.) but because he didn't agree. His life may not have been glamorous compared to suburban American life, but he was never hungry growing up. He had a vast field to play in, fresh paints and canvas once a month, and his mother's cooking was always the best to come home too after a morning in the fields and an afternoon at school.
He would have been happy to serve his country, when the time would have come. He had tried when he had returned to Russia, briefly, even when some of the young men he grew up with had called him traitor. Even when the military said they would not take him because he was a mutant (wasn't human). Not as anything beyond a test subject. He was a patriot. And he was proud of his roots.
He doesn't agree with what's happened. Congress bills or reality tv shows where "super heroes" record themselves blowing up schools.
He remembers who held him all those years, using his genetics to make a mutant "cure". And he knows exactly what he wants to do to each and every one of them for every scar his body healed away.
And Xavier's dream had been a beautiful one. But even his old teacher doesn't believe in his old philosophy. Not any more. Maybe all youthful dreams have to die, one day.
That's what he thinks as he looks down (down, down) at Tony Stark. Iron Man. What have you.
"So, you're the Man of Steel?" He asks Piotr.
"Da."
"Are you really bullet proof?"
"Da."
"Got anything besides a monosyllable vocabulary?"
Piotr smirks. "Da."
Mr. Stark smirks right back. "Come on, say it. Moo--"
"I put men through walls for that joke," is his deadpan response. Kitty, Kurt, and even Logan used to tease him with that badly drawn moose cartoon. And it hurts how long ago that was.
"I think I have just the job for you, Mr. Rasputin."
