Issue 1 Downtime

Ever since his secret came out, Sergei had been using much of his free time to get back into fighting shape. He had to be ready in the event his former mentor's Rasputin Academy proved a viable threat. So today he was exercising on a weight machine, earbuds pumping some energetic classical music into his ears.

Tommy, dressed in a fencing outfit, sans-mask and, uh, sword, walked into the room next, headed for a treadmill himself, nodding at the professor.

Sergei stopped to take a breather, pausing his music.

"Looking forward to Summer Lord More?" he asked.

"A bit, I suppose," he mused.

"Any big plans?"

"Oh, nothing too large. The Riviera, perhaps."

"French or Italian?"

"Yes!"

He smirked, "Why settle for just one, right?"

"Of course," he said, as if there was no other way.

"I suggest you check out the Opéra de Monte-Carlo. I saw a production of Wagner's Siegfried there that was fantastic."

"And was Wagner himself conducting?" Tommy asked, mildly.

"Of course not. How old do you think I am?" he asked, not seeming insulted.

"Fairly. Seems to be the requirement, nowadays."

"I'll have you now I'm not even thirty yet. Well, almost.... but still."

Cryo doesn't count.

"Riiiight."

"...it's the hair isn't it?"

"Among other things."

"Please... enlighten me," he said, instantly regretting it.

"Oh, the demeanor, for one."

"My demeanor?"

"Oh, yes," he said, as if that explained everything.