<div class="floatleft">(http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/4/48605/2975846-femme_fatale___psylocke_by_brandonarseneault.jpg)</div>Name: Elizabeth "Betsy" Braddock aka Psylocke<br/>Location: Blackbird Jet<br/>Outfit: as shown<br/>Tagged: Everyone<br/>--------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/><br/>Sentinels were not a specialty that Psylocke held.  Certainly the machines could be dispatched at her hand, but such a thing took much stalking and secrecy to perform.  Better for those more suitable to dispatch the machinery as she provided the coordination necessary to succeed was how her mind worked in the shadows.  Almond eyes, unfamiliar to her at one time, peered out at the actors to this drama as they unfolded in multiple places and over multiple times.  There was wisdom in those eyes, a haunted knowledge that could be keenly felt when Piotr lifted his eyes to look upon her.  She did not return his gaze at first, instead allowing her sight to fade into the lands of the mental oversight.  Hands lifted to tangle fingers into a sign meant to center her and find peace.  Such ancient meanings were surprisingly useful for the art of telepathy.<br/><br/>“Wolverine has caught up to Bastion.”  The words were soft as a whisper, more thought than sound yet their mention was distinct.  “There are many here and our time is coming to a close.  Kurt will need your help Kitty.”  A flicker of pain brushed against the mind of Kitty Pryde, a flicker accompanied by a mental tug in the direction of the wounded X-Man.  “Finish what he has started and I will warn the others.”<br/><br/>The symbol which flexed her fingers dissolved into a fist that pressed to her palm.  Muscles tightened beneath the confines her suit before she gave a smirk as if hearing Piotr for the first time remark on her outfit.  Eyes focused on him as the smirk become a familiar one, a symbol of teasing and playfulness.  Then the moment was gone and instead she intensified the links she had established previously, pressing those lines of communication to tie all together in a sense of urgency.<br/><br/>“Avengers and X-Men.  Finish your business, this place will not last much longer.”<br/><br/>Shadows thickened as her mental force faded into a method more to her liking and comfort.  Psylocke had no intention of remaining as the charges were placed and set to remove this place from the world.  Yet she would ensure that the confusion of one man went unnoticed by the others, but brushed upon by her.  Quietly she let herself move past the figure of Gambit so that she might give a slight tug to his jacket.  Psylocke made no attempt to sneak upon the man knowing well how dangerous he could be when caught off guard, but instead ensured that while quiet her mind opened her disguise long enough for him to sense her presence.<br/><br/>“Come along Cajun.  Play nice and perhaps I will let you buy me dinner, yes?”  The distinct touch of French was set to her accent, eroding away the typically London urban with a more refined Parisian brush of her tongue.  A man’s ego was a fragile thing she had learned over the years, but also quickly mended with soft words and subtle touches.<br/>