nextgenerationmarvel | Not In Siberia Anymore [Intro; Open to everyone at the Institute]

Once he made his way to the kitchen with Ilya, Dolemeck wheeled himself behind the counter to start getting out the things he would need to make him his cake. The Chicken pot pies he spoke of were out and ready for students to eat for lunch. Already a majority of them were gone, but there was enough left for himself, Ilya, and a few other people.

"Alright... they still look warm!" Dolemeck took note, floating a plate over to Ilya, and then a chicken pot pie to sit on it. "Grab yourself a fork and a knife and dig in! I will get to work on that cake for you."

Regardless of how many were gone, it was still a lot of food. Ilya knew he'd seen more food at one time, but only in storage in preparation for the winter. Having that much out in the open drove home how many people there were here and how well off they were.

Ilya took ahold of the plate, smiling slightly at Dolemeck. The mansion still seemed vast to him but the other guy seemed to know the layout fairly well; hopefully it wouldn't be too hard to get used to walking around this maze of a place. As he moved to get a fork and knife, though, it occurred to him he really couldn't do anything to repay Dolemeck for it. Except...

"You know, I know I'm new, but I'm pretty decent at using telekinesis on big things. Maybe, if you want, I can help you learn to move things that are bigger and weigh more? If you want," he repeated, not sure if he was overstepping his boundaries. Then he looked down at his plate and, in order to avoid saying anything else that was stupid, took a tentative bite of his chicken pot pie.

And then made a stupidly happy 'mmm' sound that immediately embarrassed him worse than words could have.

He could not help but chuckle again, seeing Ilya enjoying the chicken pot pie. It was as if he never tried it before. Was that even possible? If it was true, then that was rather sad.

"That would be great!" He spoke cheerfully, cracking some eggs into a bowl, and then grabbing a whisk to start stirring in the various ingredients he had inside of it. "It would help me be able to get out of my chair easier! Granted, I can use my powers to push objects that are heavy, just not lift them. It is quite odd."

He continued to whisk the batter for the cake, filling the kitchen with a sweet aroma of chocolate as he did so.

"Now, would you like any fruit on top of the cake after it is baked and iced?"

It is, because chickens don't tend to live if you put them in the Arctic Circle. He's had other foods others here probably hadn't, but he's been informed by SHIELD a lot of people apparently find eating reindeer disquieting, so he'll keep that to himself for now.

"I started with pushing things. Lifting came later, in the mine I worked at. It was mostly exhaustion, I guess; it was easier to pick everything up and put it in the cart than move it by hand after a while. So, uh. Pushing being easier than lifting isn't that odd, I think." Ilya is polite enough not to talk with his mouth full, but he eats like he's starving. He's not sure why, but ever since SHIELD found him he's been unable to turn away from food. Their working theory is his body was storing up energy for his healing factor to use.

His mind stalls at the word 'fruit'. Sure, he's had some via SHIELD, in the form of juice since his body was less likely to reject that, but otherwise all he'd had experience with were berries. "There's fruit here?"

"Aye! We have bananas, and strawberries, and blueberries..." It then hit him that Ilya may have never seen fruit before. Dolemeck placed the bowl on the counter and wheeled himself over to the fridge. He took out all the fruit they had, and then wheeled over to Ilya so he could see.

"Here we go. All the fruit you have to choose from!" He smiled more, now using his powers to pour the batter into the small cake pan, set the oven, then place the cake pan inside of the oven. He even shut the door with his powers. "Strawberries are my favorite fruit."

"...I recognize these," he said after a moment, pointing to the blueberries. "The polar station's head on Ayon Island had a lot of perks for being, well, the highest ranking government official for miles and miles. Including better food for him and his family." He reaches for the blueberries, momentarily lost in a memory. "His daughter Marya snuck me some once after I was kicked out of the school. I never did figure out why." He pops them into his mouth and they're a lot fresher and better than he remembers, and he actually slows down to chew at a normal pace, looking around the kitchen.

"Don't hold it against me if... if blueberries are my favorite." It was only gift from someone else he'd ever gotten back in Ayon. Still, his need to make sure he's not saying or doing something wrong kicks in. "Is that okay?"

"Why would I hold that against you? There is nothing wrong if you like blueberries." His smile saddened as he looked at the strawberries before him. "You know... Me Mum, when I was little, once made me a strawberry tart. It is the only memory I have of her cooking for me. After that, she just went back to touring with me Da in Europe."

He realized he shed a tear for a moment and quickly wiped it away, before Ilya would notice.

"Sorry about that, Ilya."

"You must miss her a lot. I know I miss my parents, and my grandparents. That's nothing to be sorry about, Dolemeck. It's just... human nature, I guess." Ilya looked at him and tried to fish for comforting words. "I didn't mean to upset you. I should've picked my words more carefully." He wants to put a comforting hand on the other boy's shoulder, but he's not sure how that would go over, so instead he settles for adding, "I'm sorry," in a soft, genuinely sad tone of voice.

"And it is not your fault. You did nothing wrong." He offered Ilya a smile. He felt a bit timid himself, reaching out to gently place his hand on Ilya's. He was trying to be somewhat comforting, as well as supportive. "You said and did nothing wrong, Ilya. So please, do not feel bad what-so-ever."

He patted Ilya's hand, his face a little flushed, now.

"So, what else do you like?"

Ilya instinctively interlocked their fingers. It had been too long since he'd had human contact, or at least, that was why he told himself he did it. He's not sure, actually, what he's doing. That's not a new sensation, either, so he just tries to power on through it like nothing is weird about this.

"Where I grew up most food was either fish or reindeer meat. So I like a lot of foods because I like new things, and there's always something else I've never had before. It's a longstanding joke in Russia you have to like vodka if you were born in Siberia, but my healing factor makes it not make me get drunk." Or at least, not off a few shots. He's never actually had the opportunity or motivation to actively try to get drunk; what would the point in that be? "I'm still sort of learning what I like and don't like. Everything is new and that can be great, but it can be a bit much, too. Especially since people actually talk to me now. I'm used to just being the bookworm in the corner." Since they're in semi-private, he feels comfortable adding, "Thank you. For what you said when you found out I'm only half white. It - it means a lot, you know."

Dolemeck did not mind that their fingers were now interlocked. It actually felt nice. While he was close to many of the students at the school, this felt a bit closer, and more comforting.

"Well, maybe we can find some venison and make a shepard's pie sometime? I mean... traditionally you use lamb for that, but I think venison would taste just as good." He felt like he was still blushing a little, but did his best to ignore it. "And... you are more than welcome. It honestly does not matter to me if you are half white or not. You could be half alien and I would still want to be your friend."

The cake still had a bit of time before it was ready to come out and be iced, and then decorated with blueberries.

"I don't know. I don't want to do anything that costs a lot - I'm happy just being here, really, and not eating terrible miner's food like I was stuck with for a while. If I never see black bread again, it'll be too soon." His face grew serious, and he looked at Dolemeck with a sort of respect and wonder mixture that he didn't have a name for. "When you overheard Topher and I discuss the occult section, the reason I was nervous is because that word was used in Russian to describe anyone who wasn't Christian, and that was synonymous with 'not white' in Siberia. How... how religious are people here?" He's scared of the answer and yet he has to know. He needs to know how to blend in. Ilya won't make mistakes here, he won't become the burden he was back home.

And he's so easily influenced he would probably pretend to go along with any answer Dolemeck gave him. He's comfortable opening up like this, alone with Dolemeck, the smell of a baking cake in the air. It's new in all the best ways.

"Well, there are people of many different religions here." He thought for a moment, still holding Ilya's hand, their fingers still interlaced. "I think everyone here is tolerant of everyone else. So you have nothing to fear. No one will judge you for your beliefs or what Gods you worship. I know I certainly would not."

Dolemeck heard the ding of the stove, and without letting go of Ilya's hand, took the cake out of the oven, and quickly flipped it over on a dish in front of himself. He then placed the empty pan back in the sink, closed up the stove, and brought the icing over to himself. He was starting to get a slight headache from using his powers so much, but refused to show it. Instead, he used his free hand to take a knife by his side, and start spreading the chocolate icing on the cake.

"As for myself. Well... I grew up mostly Catholic. But I just... I did not agree with some aspects of what I was being taught. I believe there is a God of some sort, but I cannot believe he would hate anyone or be cruel enough to punish people out of spite or vengeance."

It's mesmerizing, watching those powers at work, so open and so free. The realization that even if someone walked in they wouldn't care about the telekinesis being used out in the open is such a change from the way Ilya knows the world to work that he can barely believe his eyes.

"I believe you. It's just... I don't want to make waves. I never have. Trouble seems to follow me wherever I go, but I never mean for it to. All I want is to be happy but I haven't figured out what that means, either." As he mulls over Dolemeck's own beliefs, he adds, "I was raised Orthodox, or at least, my grandparents tried to get me to be. I tried to be. I just never felt the same connection to God that other people around me had... or any, really, when it came to the Christian God. But it might've been because so many people disliked the 'liberal' priest who let a half-Chukchi into the building to start with. I agree, though, about not being able to see hatred or cruelty in whatever higher powers are out there. It doesn't make much sense."

"You will not make waves." he continued to try and reassure Ilya. "And I can understand about trouble. I believe there is now a running joke about how many times I end up in the infirmary. Some even joke that they should just name a wing of it after me, I end up there so much!"

His green eyes turned towards the blueberries by Ilya, lifting them up with his mind and placing them on the frosted cake. He made them form a smiley face for Ilya, before floating the cake back over to him.

"Here you are! Your very first chocolate cake, with blueberries." He would put the other fruit away later, as he was sure it would not spoil that quickly. "As for happiness. We both have plenty of time to figure that out. It is part of the teenage experience I am told."

"Why do you end up in the infirmary so much?" He's both curious and worried. Ilya has practice with heavy telekinesis, and he figures that might be enough to keep him from being hurt. Dolemeck doesn't have the heavy duty stuff, and while his fine control is enviable and impressive, it probably doesn't lend itself to protective moves as easily.

Ilya laughs at the smiley face and immediately covers his mouth with his hand, not wanting to seem rude. It's cute, is all. "This is really nice of you. I mean it. I can't cook or bake to save my life - I should probably try and learn that too, while I'm here. I'll make you some Siberian food some time, if I can find the ingredients." Then he very carefully took his fork and took a bite, almost apprehensive.

Chocolate was every bit as good as he'd heard, and he shut his eyes and just focused on it, like it was delivered directly here from Heaven. "Vkusno! This is - I - um." He blushes, realizing he must look like a country bumpkin getting excited over food like this, but he likes it too much to apologize, for once.

"Well, I have some spinal issues. I tend to be in the infirmary anywhere between twice to three times a day for medication. That and I tend to try and push my body beyond it's limits, trying to keep up with everyone." He looked down for a moment. "It has been difficult for me to acknowledge I cannot do what everyone else can. I am attending a support group for teenagers with disabilities to try and better understand myself and my limits."

He then looked up as Ilya gave out an exclamation of joy, then blush at his embarrassment. Dolemeck in turn just laughed. Not one that mocked or made fun of Ilya, but one because he was happy. He was happy Ilya was happy and enjoying the cake he made. He then grasped a napkin and reached over to wipe some of the chocolate cake that got around Ilya's mouth.

"You like it? Wonderful! I can teach you to bake if you want. It is a bit of a science, and fun!"

"I see. I'm going to be honest, and I really hope this doesn't offend you, but I've never met someone in a wheelchair before. Anyone with disabilities always moved to Anadyr where it was easier to live with disabilities, so most Siberian towns don't have anyone who can't walk. So I don't know anything, really, about what you're going through or how your life works. I'm sorry. You'll have to teach me about that too, it seems. Maybe you can get part-time professor status at this rate," he adds in a poor attempt at a joke, hoping he hadn't just been horrifically offensive. But it was true - he'd even heard that some people paid people in Anadyr to look after their children, because they couldn't move the whole family there. It was one of those things that he had always known without ever truly understanding because it didn't apply to him or anyone on Ayon Island.

At the touch of the napkin, Ilya ends up chuckling at how juvenile they probably look. It's nice, to be able to act his age for once. And Dolemeck has a wonderful laugh. "How is this science?" he asks with a grin, but he's not objecting.

"Well, you have to measure ingredients to make sure they do not cause an explosion of sorts. First time I tried to make a bread for home economics back at home, I put too much yeast in it. It exploded and got everywhere when I tried to bake it!" He laughed. "I was quite embarrassed, but it made me determined to keep trying until I got it right."

When the questions about his disability came up, he did not appear offended at all. His smile remained quite kind looking as he explained it.

"Three years ago, there was a drunk driver who lost control of his car. I was walking with a group of people when I saw him, and I knew he would not stop. I wanted to push everyone out of the way, I did not want anyone hurt. And it was how I discovered my powers. I managed to push the crowd off to either side of me, and was then hit by the car." He sat back some in his chair, interlacing his fingers with Ilya's and just holding his hand, again. It was just a great comfort, a warmth he had started to enjoy.

"I was in a coma for a month. The car had pinned me just above me hips up against a brick wall, doing some serious damage. My spine had nearly been severed, and is just kind of held together with pins and screws."

He looked away for a moment before continuing.

"I was able to walk with the aid of leg braces for awhile. But it was difficult and tiring. The doctors had warned me that it would only be a matter of time before I lost the ability to walk at all. And that happened recently. All feeling in me legs went, and I could no longer use the leg braces to walk. They feel numb and if I put weight down, they just give out."

His smile showed some embarrassment, now.

"Sometimes, I need help to get out of my chair or to take a shower if I am in too much pain. I get around by using my hands to push the wheels of the chair, and the school has lots of accessibility for me. Elevators, wheelchair ramps, special bathrooms..."

"I... I'm so sorry. I thought, I mean, back home things like not being able to walk were things people were born with." He squeezed Dolemeck's hand, rubbing his thumb against the skin in an attempt to be comforting. "I can't imagine what that must have been like. You're heroic, you know. You did a great thing, in that moment. And I'm so glad that you're here. I wish I could say that with my knowledge of telekinesis I could help you walk, but I'm not sure I could, or if would be safe to try." Ilya set his cake off to the side on a counter, and after a moment of hesitation, put his hand on Dolemeck's knee, pushing the leg back and forth once with a slight frown. "I'm not sure it would do you any favors. There's not a lot of muscle here and I couldn't forgive myself if anything happened to you. You're the first person who's ever looked past my family line and power and just talked to me like I'm me."

Belatedly, he realizes he still has his hand on the other boy's knee, and gently removes it to place it on his shoulder like a normal person comforting someone else might. Ilya isn't sure how to comfort someone, but he'll do his best. "Is there anything you have to help the pain? Some medicine or something?" He really doesn't know if medical science has advanced that far even if the UK and the Unites States had some of the best doctors. If this same accident had happened somewhere in Siberia with traffic, a town like Pevek or Provideniya, then there's no doubt in Ilya's mind Dolemeck wouldn't be alive right now.

Dolemeck's offered to do so much for him. There has to be something Ilya can do in return, but he doesn't know what it is.

"I take pain medication a few times a day. It depends. sometimes the weather can aggravate me back and I will need to take more than usual." His cheeks flushed for a moment as Ilya's hand moved to his knee. He was not expecting that, and unfortunately could just feel the pressure of his hand. Almost as though his leg was filled with novacane. "I go to Physical Therapy daily to try and maintain my muscle mass and keep my legs limber. If they are not exercised, they will lock up in one position or look like sticks. And believe me, that would not be very attractive if I were to wear shorts."

He tried to laugh at his own expense, while trying to keep Ilya smiling and relaxed. Dolemeck's hands moved, one to touch Ilya's hand on his shoulder, the other to touch the hand on his knee.

"Nothing is going to happen to me. The people at this school would not allow it. And I would never let anything bad happen to someone as kind as you." That sounded cheesey, and make his cheeks turn red, again. "It is alright, Ilya."

The way that Ilya's leaning in, and the way their hands are touching, is probably more intimate than is really appropriate - but Ilya is just basing what's okay on Dolemeck's reaction, having had no real interactions like this with people his own age. Even other people who worked in the mine were older than him by at least ten years.

"I don't know anything about any of this. It isn't fair and if it's this frustrating for me I can't imagine what it's like being you. You really deserve better than this." He looked at Dolemeck, the person who flippantly threw aside race, education and the obvious financial gulf between them, the guy who made him cake and treated him like he was a real person, and felt a sense of protectiveness that had little to do with the fact Dolemeck was in a wheelchair. "I know nothing will happen to you. Because I'll teach you all that I know so nothing like that can ever happen to you again. If I can stop a broken mine cart full of ore, I could stop other things, and if I can teach you, then you can, too." He lightens up enough to add cheekily, "Besides, you're already teaching me a growing list of things, I need to do something so I'm not mooching off of you."

Dolemeck found himself leaning in a bit more himself. His forehead gently pressed against Ilya's, and his eyes closed. It was quite intimate the way their hands were, it made his heart race.

"You are not mooching off of me." His voice was a bit quiet, now. "I am offering to help you, because you are a good, kind person, Ilya. Even if I just met you... I can tell. And you have been through things you never deserved. I want to make up for all of that, by having you happy at this school, and smiling... and less nervous."

He could not stop smiling for some reason, or blushing.

"I do not know how I can explain it, but I want to protect you, too, Ilya."

His heart was beating faster, and his breath caught when Dolemeck pressed their heads together. The concept this is romantic is as terrifying as it is amazing. He'd never thought about his orientation because he'd given up hope on that front so long ago he couldn't even remember when it happened. Maybe he's reading too much into it. But he hopes he isn't, or if he is, he'll at least get to pretend that's what this might be for a few more seconds.

"I'm not any kinder than anyone else is. Or any more good." He's kind of proud he got the grammar right, there. "I'm just some kid from Chukotka who somehow ended up here. And I am happy. I have you now." They're so close Dolemack can probably see that Ilya's eyes are a dark blue instead of brown as they appear from a distance. Other people might find it repulsive, the trademark blue of the Chukchi, but he doubts Dolemeck cares.

"The only reason I'm nervous is because I just got here, but I already don't want to leave this school. Or you." His cheeks must be on fire at this point, with how warm they feel. Did he really just say that? He's not sure what's worse, that it's so unromantic or that it's so painfully true. What's wrong with him? He didn't bond to his SHIELD handlers at all, so why is Dolemeck so easy to care about?

He wanted to share his first kiss with Ilya. he wanted to be impulsive about it and just do it. But he worried, he worried if Ilya thought he was just being kind to use him. His past was so painful, and he did not want to add to that.

But on the other hand, he wanted to share such an experience with him. He wanted to show that he cared about him, and that he made his heart race and his face turn red. So many questions flooded his head, and he finally opened his green eyes to look into Ilya's blue ones.

"It is weird. I... I feel the same way about you. That I do not wish to leave you, either. That I feel so happy right now."

He had thought about his own orientation, before. he found himself attracted to other men, but it made me somewhat uncomfortable. Only Rose knew about this, and maybe Topher as he failed to flirt with him in the most awkward of ways. But something about Ilya just felt right and natural.

Dolemeck hoped he made the right decision, as he leaned in more, and gently placed his lips on Ilya's.

Not In Siberia Anymore [Intro; Open to everyone at the Institute]

The Cake is Not a Lie

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