10 February
Button. –n. 1. a small disk, knob, or the like for sewing or otherwise attaching to an article, as of clothing, serving as a fastening when passed through a buttonhole or loop 2. anything resembling a button, especially in being small and round, as any of various candies, ornaments, tags, identification badges, reflectors, markers, etc. 3. a badge or emblem bearing a name, slogan, identifying figure, etc., for wear on the lapel, dress, etc. 4. any small knob or disk pressed to activate an electric circuit, release a spring, or otherwise operate or open a machine, small door, toy, etc. 5. a bud or other protuberant part of a plant 6. a. a young or undeveloped mushroom b. any protuberant part of a fungus 7. any of various small parts or structures resembling a button, as the rattle at the tip of the tail in a very young rattlesnake 8. the point of the chin 9. a fastener for a door, window, etc., having two arms and rotating on a pivot that is attached to the frame 10. a small globule or lump of metal at the bottom of a crucible after fusion 11. the protective, blunting knob fixed to the point of a foil 12. a small, button-shaped or clearly defined area that the user can click on or touch to choose an option –v. 13. to fasten with a button or buttons 14. to insert (a button) in a buttonhole or loop 15. to provide (something) with a button or buttons 16. to be capable of being buttoned
Rogue carried her biology book and notebook through the hallways of Xavier's school, a pencil between her fingers as an added bonus. She needed Hank's help. Again.
Her biology class was working on learning mitosis. She understood the definition of mitosis well enough: the splitting of cells to create two identical cells. It was a form of growth and rejuvenation. It was the phases of mitosis that were causing her issues.
To make matters worse, her algebra class was starting to ramp things up as well. It was a lot more difficult to apply math than it was to understand biology. Math had no context. All it consisted of were numbers and graphs. Inapplicable to life.
The hallways were bustling, as far as activity in the mansion went. Rogue was thankful that she didn't run into Alison, but she did come across the big guy of few words. Piotr, if she remembered correctly. He was holding a canvas. The way in which he had it in his arms, Rogue wondered if he was self-conscious about its contents. Rogue's curiosity was piqued.
As she passed by, she stole a glance at the piece and was stopped in her tracks. "Oh mah!" she cried. Peter genuinely jumped and turned around. "Did you paint that?" she asked.
"Da …" Piotr said. He didn't seem to be certain about owning up to being the piece creator.
"It's beautiful, Sugah!" she said. "May Ah get a closer look?"
Piotr glanced up and down the hallway, as if checking to see whether or not the coast was clear. He and Rogue were the only two within sight. He held it out at an angle for Rogue to study its surface.
The picture depicted a wintry scene. A little girl in a simple, yet detailed parka. He'd painted each button with care, even detailing the furry trim around the cuffs. She sat in the middle of a farmer's field, ringed with dormant foliage. A proud barn, held together by hopes and wishes, stood off to the side of the canvas. His use of color was phenomenal, the composition perfect. He'd created a true masterpiece.
"Ah didn't know you were an artist," Rogue commented.
"I do not paint often," Piotr told her. "This was for art class at school. I have class for painting this semester. Teacher give me free study to paint."
Rogue laughed. "Ah don't know if yer teacher has much to teach you!" she said. "This is a beautiful painting."
"Thank-you," Piotr said. His embarrassment leaked away as he tucked the canvas against his massive body again. "It is of sister, Illyana. She stays home, in Russia." He paused for a moment, lost in thought. "I miss my family, but I do more good here, in America with X-Men."
Rogue felt a little pang. The mansion was her home now. She had nowhere else to go except off on her own. Staying with peers was a much better alternative to that. "Maybe you can visit her next month," Rogue said. "It'll give you something to do over spring break."
Piotr nodded. "I might like that," he said. He then gestured toward her books. "You are seeing Hank? I should not waste your time."
Rogue glanced down at the books in her arms, as if she'd forgotten about them. "Oh yeah. Ah should get this homework finished up." She flashed a genuine smile at Piotr. "Thank-you for lettin' me see your paintin'!"