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| Lusus Naturae; Bar; Open to: Brotherhood, All | |
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| Topic Started: Jan 3 2011, 04:27 PM (700 Views) | |
| Sadie Newman | Jan 3 2011, 04:27 PM Post #1 |
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Unregistered
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Time of day: Mid morning/8pm Place in the time-line: Mid January Sadie stretched, twisting languorously on the hard mattress of her hotel bed, kicking the tangled sheets away from her feet. It was a new place, and the beds were cheap, not designed to mould nicely to the human figure. She had a kink in her neck and she may as well have slept on the floor, but it was clean. And despite her careless attitude about most things, hygiene was not one of them. Flipping restlessly onto her back, the mutant flicked a tongue over teeth made grimy by a full night of sleep, and grimaced before wiggling her way to the edge of the bed, gracelessly sliding off and stumbling to her feet. With a yawn she didn’t even bother to stifle, Sade made her way to the bathroom; more importantly, to the shower, and her tooth brush. Half an hour later, she was hunting. A beast of pure stealth, dangerous beyond reason, a killer of pancakes. Or maybe eggs. And twenty minutes after that, she finally found a greasy diner that appeared to specialise in both – so, she ordered both, and spent her time people watching while the order came. This whole mutant city thing? It was pretty spectacular, that if she wanted, she could sit here and float while she ate her meal and nobody would try and lynch her or run away screaming, or that the mother in the corner with the blue kid wasn’t even given a second glance. And the place operated just like a normal city; people, shops… okay, maybe things were a little surreal, but it was a city dedicated to mutants. You had to expect a few oddities. Again, blue kid. The arrival of her pancakes, bacon and eggs bumped Sadie out of her musings, and she immediately began shoving the pancakes into her mouth, making an inarticulate and somewhat ridiculous sound of pleasure at the first mouthful. Real maple syrup. Okay, so she wasn’t all that refined; she enjoyed a beer (sometimes even with breakfast), a good fight, good food and men. She wasn’t shy about any of it. So making a stupid noise of appreciation whilst eating was probably quite restrained by her standards. When she’d finished her breakfast extravaganza, instead of just tossing the money on the table, Sadie made her way to the counter and paid that way – creating the opportunity to question on where she might find a likely contact of the Brotherhood. Here, in Sanctuary, the opinion of the Brotherhood was vastly different to that of the outside world, and more in line with what she also felt. It was Magneto who had announced this city open to all mutant-kind, who promoted that they as a people had as many rights as humanity. Who had set that plan in motion, and with his people, still strove to achieve it. Fuck yes, that was something she could agree with. Screw the humans; she’d seen mutants die for humanity, and their bodies desecrated without a thought to their sacrifice. The answer she’d received had not be especially specific, just a bar somewhere that brotherhood members tended to hang out in. That could work. Actually, it worked well; she felt comfortable in bars. She’d conned her way into them before it was legal, and owned one shortly after it was. *** To be honest, she didn’t change much to go to the bar. A heavier jacket to guard against the night – even if things were climate controlled in this giant dome, they still got cold. Just not as cold as outside. A different top to replace the faded t-shirt she’d been wearing during the day, black and fitting. She still wore the old jeans that fit her legs closely, and the boots that looked like a love child of combat boots and stiletto heels. She reached the place about eight pm, and stared at the sign outside for a moment. She knew what the name was already - the woman at the diner had told her - but she still didn't know what it meant. Didn't really care. But she could guess, with the word nature in it. Eh Once inside she shucked her coat almost immediately; it was warm inside, the air heavy with beer and people. Scanning the bar lazily, Sadie rolled her shoulders and relaxed into an atmosphere she felt at home in, almost sighing. Except she wasn’t a sap, and so, she didn’t. Instead, her eyes alit upon an empty stool at the end of the bar, shifted to the side slightly and away from the other patrons. Irritably brushing an errant strand of hair out of her eyes, she headed for it, tossing her coat over the seat and calling for a beer. Smirking a smile at the old man who gave her a once over to her left – no one was on her right – Sadie curled her fingers around the bottle as it arrived, took a swig and settled in for a wait. Maybe she should’ve worn a sign? Attention Brotherhood Members? |
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| Brian F. | Jan 3 2011, 06:53 PM Post #2 |
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Bioelectric Manipulation
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Brian’s day started off quietly. He stared emptily at the vast white ceiling in his flat. The room was quiet despite the bustling city outside. Every so often, when Brian would wake and not feel entirely confident to start the activities or cut into the to-do list he would sit and think. Think about the past, present, and future; all were subject to his vast and exploring thoughts. When a person wakes there is a brief window to think with the same intrigue, creativity, limitlessness of dreams. Brian’s world and thoughts extended to the walls of Sanctuary. Beyond that, the world was a haze; a distracting haze that if focused on would only stray him from his path. Sanctuary, despite its wide open spaces, high skies, and deep waters gave Brian a feeling of closeness. In New York, when he would look up, Skyscrapers would often block his view but beyond the buildings were an open sky and a sense of freedom. The city seemed to be a world in itself, but Brian always knew that there was a world beyond it. Now, Brian knew that there was a world beyond Sanctuary, but a world not for their keeping. The sea was not meant to be traversed by humans nor mutants, Except for the select few that were gifted enough to have mutant abilities that allowed for water travel. When Brian first moved to the underwater fortress he could not tell any sort of end to the air or the land, but a subconscious feeling that began to pick at him and grow from within. The feeling was one of closeness. After Brian had prepared himself for the day, a small stack of papers were the only thing to greet him as his registration to Sanctuary was nearly complete. For the advanced society that Sanctuary was little was needed, in regards to paperwork, to live there. Several signatures and the most basic information about Brian was all that was needed. The main hall that housed the local government, was Brian’s first and only stop after leaving his flat. The walk was pleasant, the weather reminded him of England and Maidstone most of all. Brian’s outfit was tucked tight to keep himself warm and his scarf covered his mouth to prevent any painful cracking. Despite, the amazing and seemingly impossible abilities of mutants they had weaknesses in the most obvious and pathetic human-like traits. The woman that accepted his paperwork, was most obviously a mutant. She had a light blue tint to her skin, but more importantly a warm smile and a thank you. Brian left as quickly as he had entered and began the walk back. Upon returning back to his building, he was greeted by his gingerly old neighbor. He had held short conversations with her over his time living in Sanctuary and she was very nice. However, it seemed that a light bulb in her bedroom had gone out and her tall mutant son was out. Brian freely offered to help and within five minutes had helped the woman. She offered some tea, however Brian declined and walked across the hall. Later… Brian walked slowly through the pub, weaving through the general crowd that flooded in. The air was thick and the background noise was butting in on everyone’s conversations. It had been a while since Brian had something to drink, and right now it sounded pretty damn good. The closer Brian got to the bar the thicker the crowd got. Most people were content standing around talking to their mate, but now they were getting in the way. Trying to push through in the most courteous way he could Brian found himself near the bar and an open seat near the end. When walking over still dodging through the crowd a push came from behind him, most likely from the shift in the crowd. He found himself stumbling over his feet and into the woman next to the open seat. He heard the woman’s drink spill and immediately was overwhelmed with a feeling of guilt. Brushing himself off and finding his way to the open seat he immediately began to speak to the woman, “I’m so sorry.” The young Englishman then caught the attention of the bartender and told him he needed two of what the woman next to him had. “I hoped you liked what you were drinkin’ because you’re getting another.” He looked over to the young woman with a small grin on his face “My names Brian.” Holding out his hand he awaited the woman’s return. |
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| Sadie Newman | Jan 4 2011, 11:59 AM Post #3 |
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Unregistered
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Sadie was comfortable on her stool, nursing the beer as it cooled gradually in the warm room, condensation making the amber glass slick. She didn’t talk to anybody, didn’t need to at this stage, and instead took the opportunity to survey the bar. It was rather popular, with crowds of people cluttering the bar, corners and available tables, but at the same time it seemed to have an easy atmosphere where people interacted with little strain; she suspected that was due to the very nature of the city this bar was a resident of, and perhaps the bar staff themselves. She sure as hell didn’t want to cause trouble with bouncers outside who could probably blow her up on the spot, never mind that she might be able to defend herself. She wasn’t gonna take the chance. Mutants made good muscle. End of story. But the fact that this bar, whatever the hell the name meant, was in Sanctury, a city of mutants, was probably the most influential factor. Everybody was on even footing here, and they knew it – they didn’t have to worry about human’s busting down the door on some misguided self preservation raid. They could be as freaky as they wanted, and if they wanted to drink beer through straws up their nose – as a younger mutant was doing, cheered on by his friends – then so be it. They probably wouldn’t get laid tonight, though. Eventually, the old man on her left got up and left, with a lingering, and entirely unwelcome pat on the back as way of saying goodbye as he passed. She abruptly rolled her shoulders violently and shook his hand off – though it wasn’t strictly necessary as he was already moving away as she was completing the movement - and snapped an irritated “Perv!” at him as he walked away with a cackle. Grumbling lowly, Sadie let a shudder roll through her body and turned back to her beer. Fuck him. If he wasn’t old and feeble, she’d kick him in the balls. Silently hoping he wasn’t a brotherhood member – though she doubted terrorists employed old men who could hardly stand up right – Sadie’s musing returned to why she was here. The Brotherhood. Eventually, soon, she’d have to ask somebody about finding someone to talk to, because simply staring at people as they wandered around a darkened bar was not the most productive activity she could take part in. But, she was enjoying herself, not doing anything in particular and just... well, not even thinking, it wasn’t a conscious effort; the musings simply swum through her mind, and then back out again. If you’d asked her what she was thinking of five minutes ago, all she could give you was a shrug of the shoulders and a frown. The current contents of her mind ranged between why she thought she’d find the brotherhood to her suiting, and that she was slightly hungry. She was always hungry. A burger, maybe. From god knows where. As for the Brotherhood – well, their philosophies were in line with hers, though she wasn’t exactly in agreement with the indiscriminate killing that the tabloids seemed to report an awful lot of, but killing to ensure the success of your mission, that she agreed with. Just cos you felt like it? No. Being shoved forwards and off her seat did not please Sadie, to have her bottle topple over and spill its contents over the bar as she reacted to the immediate threat pissed her off even more. It was a nice beer. But as the frothy liquid spilled, she was busy righting herself on the stool – which was harder than it looked, when the heels of your boots were caught over the cross bar and you were over balanced. With a violent expression on her face, Sadie hoisted herself up and back on to the seat before turning the self same expression on the perpetrator. Who gave a fuck if he apologised? She arched an eyebrow and all but spat the words at him; “Watch where you’re going, dickhead.” Rude about summed Sadie up when she was pissed off. Offensive, too. She continued to glare at him darkly as he seated himself and ordered her a replacement beer, and one for himself. When he introduced himself and extended a hand to shake her own, Sadie simply stared at it as if it had suddenly morphed into a snake. But, when the beer arrived, and after she’d taken a swig, she did offer him her name. “Sadie.” |
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| Russian Winter | Jan 4 2011, 01:39 PM Post #4 |
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Unregistered
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Things never work out exactly as you plan including an activity as simple as getting a drink. Nonetheless no obstacle stood between Mikhail and alcohol especially when that alcohol came with good company. He had tried a few of the establishments in Sanctuary but still had a few more to go and on a quest to find the best one had to try everything. This particular establishment was also the one he had chosen to meet a particular Brotherhood member of the female persuasion. He leaned on the outside wall arms crossed having shown up a tad early to be there when she arrived. He was fairly certain he would recognize the feral looking female when she approached. The area was somewhat crowded and judging by the number of people going in and out of the doors it looked like this place was fairly popular. This bode well for the quality of the alcohol but he had been disappointed before. He took a deep breath blowing it out through tightly pursed lips. A distant observer might have thought he was smoking because of the cloud of vapor which was expelled from his mouth. In reality his lower body temperature allowed his breath to be visible even in the comparatively warm climate controlled environment of Sanctuary. It disappointed Mikhail that he would probably never see snow in Sanctuary. Not that a good snow would be appropriately appreciated by anyone other then kids and himself. Mikhail always felt more comfortable at lower temperatures but sacrifices always had to be made for the greater good and dealing with room temperature was a fact of life for him. In a way he was slightly antsy about this little social get together. During his time in Sanctuary he had run into several Brotherhood mutants but was consistently surprised at how different personal philosophies within the organization were. It would be interesting to see who Jara Montenegro was. |
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| Brian F. | Jan 5 2011, 03:53 AM Post #5 |
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Bioelectric Manipulation
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A rude remark rang through the close area. Brian expected it and paying no attention the voice diffused among the other voices in the room. There was a decent crowd gathering in the pub and the atmosphere distracted him from the fact that he was underwater. The surrounding of mutant made him loose track of the fact that he was different from the general population. It was a nice feeling to loose his grip on what reality had become; the feeling was unlike any other as if all worries in the world had slipped away. Unfortunately, he was still sitting next to someone who seemed to be angry despite his attempt at reconciliation. There was spilt beer however and Brian had been in enough establishments to know that a spilled drink made a louder sound than a sorry. Brian looked behind him to see the crowd shuffle and filter through new people to the bar area. There was no sign of the mutant who bumped him. It did not matter and the glance behind him might have other motives. Brian did want to see if there was anyone around that he might have known. Not that the woman sitting next to him was unbearable, just heated. She needed to cool down despite Brian replacing what she had lost, for free. It was difficult to find faces in the ocean of people. It was truly foolish considering the low number of people he had actually met in Sanctuary. However, compared to his social status while staying in the fun house it has been a complete one hundred and eighty degree turn. The bartender finally returned with the two’s drinks. Brian gripped the cool bottle that moisture had already began condensing on. Taking a small drink and savoring it, Brian looked over at the woman next to him. He wasn’t entirely certain of the way the woman looked but could make out the dark hair atop her head. In truth, the poor lighting was not flattering of anyone. A warm smile graced the English mutant’s face as he looked in the woman’s direction. Unlike many of the other men who would have looked over a young woman like her focusing on the more physically attractive attributes Brian’s eyes focused on her face which often tell the truth. “Sadie.” A short and simple response, what he would expect from someone who’s drink he just spilled. “It’s a pleasure,” he said taking his hand back after the generous offer. Brian then rubbed his temples as a small head ache began to fester in the back of his mind. It was not because of the loud noise or the various aromas, but the sheer number of people so close to him. Because of how close everyone was to him in the nicely sized building he could feel the ‘circuitry’ of their neural systems. While it had shocked him when he first walked in he had not expected the number of people cause a problem. While it was still a small headache, it could grow but being as optimistic as he could he would not let it ruin his night. “Have you been here long? Sanctuary?” Brian’s voice was as genuine as it had been before curious of everyone’s Sanctuary situation. |
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| Manslaughter | Jan 6 2011, 05:23 AM Post #6 |
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Unregistered
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Kchuck. Kchuck. Down to the last dart, Roger spun the metal projectile over his knuckles, becoming familiar with its weight and balance in his hand as he leaned up against the bar, the tender eyeing him with a dubious air. His body slack and loose, the redhead curled forward on the barstool, snapping his wrist forward, the dart sticking into the board and finding its mark in the bullseye along with the rest. Releasing a contented noise, Roger swiveled towards the man behind the counter, raising his eyebrows expectantly and tapping the bar firmly several times with the tip of his finger. Wearing an expressional mask of disgruntled disbelief, the bartender motioned back to the kitchen, retrieving a glass mug filled with ice cream from the window and sliding it down to the bar. "A'ight, you won it fair and square, kid. Don't eat it all at once." The vexing Marshall had been Roger's minder for the evening, and in all honesty the assassin wasn't altogether sure how the boy had managed to survive the conflict with SHIELD. He was one brother Roger would sooner do without, but the lanky adolescent seemed occupied enough trying to charm a table of young female mutants, leaving Roger to his own devices. Pleased with his prize, Roger cast his gaze about the establishment, spooning into his ice cream with gusto. He picked out one familiar system of synapses among them, his cold eyes finding Spitfire's brother at the other end of the bar exchanging pleasantries with a redheaded woman. He was not very familiar with Brian, just familiar enough to have been introduced at least once and aware that their biological mutations rang similar. Roger gave nary a glance back to his escort for the night, picking up his winnings and shuffling towards Brian's location. The man looked out of place besides the fact that he was carrying a mug of ice cream and not frothy beer, his v-neck and half-buttoned sweater jacket shrieking of someone otherwordly. Nonetheless, Roger approached, his mind reaching out to brush against Brian's awareness, a better greeting than simply appearing as he was often wont to do. Wriggling up onto an open bar stool next to the pair, Roger deposited his mug on the bar. "I won it," the redhead announced, looking to his mug as he ate another spoonful, perhaps unaware that the alcohol content in his 'prize' was starting to make him almost pleasant company. |
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| Sadie Newman | Jan 6 2011, 05:32 PM Post #7 |
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Sadie turned around on her stool, so that she was sitting on it sideways, and crossed one knee over the other. One stiletto heel dangled in the air, whilst the other anchored her to the chair still, as she placed her arm on the bar, which was slightly sticky from accumulated alcohol. It didn’t bother her and she left her arm there as she watched the man proceed with the pleasantries. A pleasure, really? Few people had ever described their initial introduction to Sadie Newman as pleasant. Violent, sometimes insignificant, offensive. Generally not pleasant. As a result, her reply came with a rather caustically sarcastic tone, though it was accompanied by a slight smile, which was more fleeting than apparent. “Really, now?” Leaning back slightly, a somewhat relaxed posture, Sadie tipped her bottle back and took another drink. Even if they were in the middle of nowhere – literally – this bar had good beer. She wondered idly about supply issues to somewhere like sanctuary, where entrance and exit was so closely controlled by necessity. How did the product itself cope generally cope with teleportation? Obviously bottled products weren’t affected. But not all products came in a bottle, and she knew from experience that beer did not respond well to manipulation by mutant forces that tended to play with its makeup. For example, it tended to go flat if she applied her own power to it. And nobody liked flat beer; it was worse than warm beer. But those thoughts were so much a habit – formed over years of bar ownership – that they really just operated in the back of her mind. Her attention did not appear to have wandered, though it had never appeared especially focused at the moment. Still, it was fortuitous that she could function in such a way, because the next question the man – Brian – asked, provided her a neat opening to attend to her purpose of being here tonight. “Just a few days. I’m trying to find a contact in the Brotherhood of Mutants, want to find a few things out, possibly join if it’s a option.” She was not naďve enough to think they would just let her in because she wanted in, and nor was she ready to simply join an organisation with the kind of reputation the Brotherhood owned, without at least asking a few questions of her own. “What about you, heh?” Tipping her head slightly to the right, Sadie actually seemed to be quite happy to take part in the conversation now, and could almost be described as polite. But before an answer could be provided, a strange .. boy? Appeared over Brian’s shoulder and quite effectively distracted the red haired Sadie, though certainly not red in the same category as the new arrival. He was wearing the most obscure of attire, out of place in … well, anywhere, and especially a bar. And in his hand he held a glass full of ice cream. Ice cream. Where did he even get that? It kind of almost made Sadie’s stomach rumble, reminding her that she was hungry too. But really, ice cream in a bar? It just seemed surreal. But tasty. The statement he announced to the bar, and, she supposed, them, spoke of familiarity. Sadie darted a quizzical look at the Englishman to ascertain if it was to him the strange young man was expressing that familiarity, or if he had just decided that they as a pair were worth talking. About ice cream. The statement, combined with the ice cream itself and his attire, put in Sadie’s mind serious questions about the new arrival’s mental faculties. It was just too weird. “Looks tasty.” She threw the comment out, part confusion, part taunt, part truth, and because it seemed like, having made the statement, the boy expected some kind of response to his announcement. |
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| Cain Marko | Jan 6 2011, 08:42 PM Post #8 |
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Cain had been keeping himself busy all day by walking around and doing whatever needed to be done at the moment. After a while though he got bored and found some heavy things to lift and have a psuedo workout. A couple hours of that and once again Cain's focus wained and he got bored; he needed something to do, maybe he'd hit up a bar. One of his favorites was across town...so to speak; that wasn't a problem with the transportation methods abundant in Sanctuary, but Cain always felt good running, so that's what he did. His lumbering trot soon broke into a full fledged sprint that he kept up until the neon sign was in sight; when he got close the sprint slowed to a light jog before he finally slid to a stop. Quickly checking to make sure his attire of work boots, faded jeans and a tight fitting t-shirt were bar appropriate, he opened the door and ducked his head to enter. Some of the regulars and workers waved at him, which he returned with a bit of a smile as he made his way to the bar and the specially reinforced stool; the only stool in the entire building that could support his massive 900lb frame of dense bone and muscle. Despite it being specially engineered, the metal still creaked a bit as he sat down and put his elbows on the counter top. Looking over he saw Roger, Brian, and some girl sitting with them; she was pretty but not worth his time at the moment...he needed a drink." Brian, Roger;" he greeted them both in the short way he did when something was lacking, and at the moment it was something alcoholic in his hand. Turning back to the bartender, he nodded his head. "Rum & Coke on the rocks....and somethin ta eat, doesn't matter what as long as it's good and has a lot of calories and meat." He watched his drink get made, and after sliding across the counter and into his hand, he brought the glass up to his lips and savored the sweet liquid nectar as it made his day. His food would take a bit, but he figured he could find something to keep him occupied until then. |
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| Raven Darkholme | Jan 7 2011, 12:49 AM Post #9 |
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It was no lie that Mystique was an elusive type. She was exactly the person you would not expect to see entering a bar filled with mutants, both Brotherhood and simple Sanctuary residents. However, she was still enjoying her time within Magneto's creation and she did not see herself as anything but another resident. Unfortunately for her, having such noticeable and recognizable features came at a price, and she was often approached while wandering through the masses. Mystique was known for being one of the few that were welcome in Magneto's presence and she had spent a lot of her time dispelling fiction and handing out facts about the man... all in his honor, of course. The recent actions of Quicksilver and the others that escaped were weighing heavily on Magneto as of late, and in return, it was weighing heavy on her conscious as well. They escaped a place that was seemingly inescapable, defying security measure that were thought to be perfect. But to label something like that would only mean that someone would find the flaws and imperfections, much like the Titanic was called unsinkable... but it sure did sink on it's first run. Just like ships built after the Titanic benefited from it's loss, perhaps the security measures in Sanctuary would benefit from such an early disruption. Mystique entered Lesus Naturae with intentions of grabbing a drink and possibly spreading more kind words throughout the population. She had taken it upon herself to become more approachable, because she did not believe that fear towards the Brotherhood should exist within the Sanctuary residents. For this reason, a few that she had spoken to before gave her a nod in acknowledgement as she moved towards the bar and she returned the favor, holding up a hand and giving them a short wave of recognition. As any shapeshifter would be, Mystique was a product of perfection. Her fair blue skin and shining red hair made her stand out among the dreary bar setting, and that was only amplified by a body that only a shifter could possess and her yellow eyes. While her natural form would have her entire eye become yellow, at this time she controlled them so that they more compliment her beauty, allowing for only the iris of her eyes to be a cat-like yellow in color. The white dress that she wore held even more contrast against her blue skin which made her stick out even more within a grungy bar. The bright and colorful woman would force a person's eyes to her whether they would want to be there or not, which was one of the most dangerous qualities about her. Much to Mystique's surprise she was amongst friends. She noticed the mighty Juggernaut sitting alone doing his thing. Which would probably consist of eating as much as he possibly could. Perhaps she should inform him of one of the many buffets in the area? But then again, the owners probably wouldn't appreciate it. She also glanced towards Roger, the troubled young man that she had words with not long ago. He was standing with Brian, who she had yet to make acquaintance with, but she knew him as Spitfire's brother. There was also an attractive young female that she had not yet seen, despite mingling with Sanctuary's many residents. Her yellow eyes twinkled in the dim lights as she looked between the two groups. Mystique raised her hand in greeting to Roger, indicating a salutation but also showing that she saw him, and perhaps she would have words with them shortly. For now, she walked over to where Cain Marko was sitting. He was definitely a person you would want on your side in a fist fight. “Cain,” Mystique said, her voice sounding like the voice of a thousand people in harmony. She smiled slightly as the server brought out a massive quantity of food to the man. Needless to say, she was unsurprised. “I see that you are eating well. How are you like it here? Are we keeping you busy enough?” she asked, knowing full well that they had been keeping him busy with duties that only a man with his strength could perform. |
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| Russian Winter | Jan 18 2011, 01:59 AM Post #10 |
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Mikhail glanced at his watch for the third time. He was slightly annoyed at being stood up. The time had passed beyond fashionably late and patience was never really listed as one of his qualities. Glancing at his watch once more his face transformed into a scowl. He had already gone to the trouble of walking here so he was not going to leave without a drink. Turning on his heel he stepped through the front entrance and took a moment to gaze about the room. This establishment did not have the ambiance that he particularly preferred but laziness won out and he began threading his way toward the bar. As he got closer he recognized a familiar face among the crowd, Brian Falsworth. Priority number one was to acquire an alcoholic beverage. He motioned toward the bartender. “Vone shot Vodka please.” He tapped two fingers on the bar. There was always a chance that it was imported from Russia. When teleportation was used as your primary means of transport it was almost the same distance from one country to another. Upon receiving the glass he took an experimental sip. It was not bad, far from the best, but not bad. He turned to move down the bar towards the Brian. He noticed Brian was already in a conversation with a young female mutant who was attractive and seemed to know it. Mikhail immediately considered halting his approach. He had a desire to drink in good company however he did not want to interrupt his grocery store acquaintance from entertaining female company. It was then that he noticed the red headed stepchild of the Brotherhood, mug in hand, also conversing with them. If ever there was a bad influence... He took a seat near Brian on the side that was not dominated by a hulking brute of a man and his exotic blue female companion. “Brian, I do not vant to interrupt, but vhen you have minute ve should catch up.” He lifted his partially full shot glass in Brian, Sadie’s, and consequently Roger’s general direction. In his mind catching up included finding out how close Brian was to his new friends. |
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| Jara | Jan 19 2011, 10:49 AM Post #11 |
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The feral changeling could not wait to obtain another leave of absence. The people of Sanctuary were beginning to fray her nerves. There didn’t seem like a moment where some individual couldn’t help but annoy her, push just the right buttons and trigger pet peeves in just the right way that made the bridge of her nose and space between her eyebrows wrinkle with that little line of consternation, the prelude to a very hairy and violent scene. It wasn’t merely their presence anymore, the forbidden fruit she was explicitly denied from partaking in despite the whispering desire for flesh and blood whispering in her thoughts. She was not some beast, not all the time, and Balam could control her bloodlust. But it was so, so very difficult curbing that enthusiasm for the slaughter when prey begins to circle predator, intruding into her space, her time, her thoughts, and dragging her into their dull and boring and completely irrelevant lives. When she had first arrived, the questions and inquiries were rather quaint in her eyes, bringing a mirthful smile to her lips as people went out of their way to meet her on the street, the whispered Jara Montenegro. Was she really in the Brotherhood? Was she present for the SHIELD attack? How long had she served under Magneto? A barrage of questions detailing her personal resume from the past few years would have sent the shape-shifter on edge, slicing the throats open of these overly curious people and looking nervously to storefronts and windows for the familiar split-second glare of a sniper scope. But this was Sanctuary, and the idea of safety was slowly becoming… contagious. At least here, she would not have to worry about vengeful drug lords and crime lords and a long list of double-crossed and slighted business associates she’d left in her wake. The notoriety, the fame, it was something Jara had never really experienced before, and the Cuban woman found herself enjoying the attention, but more importantly, the irony of it all. The assassin and murderess, devourer of people, now a hero of the people, now complete with little children hanging off the fringe of her coat. She humored them with answers, flashed young men a look from smoldering green eyes and a coy smile, the cat playing with her mice. Of course, the novelty quickly got old. While the attention piqued the shapeshifter’s interest, the growing familiarity people had with her, a woman that preferred to interact with people and society at large when she damn well pleased, became increasingly… off-putting. Soon she had neighbors knocking on her door, not just introducing themselves but dragging her into their affairs, the wisdom and expertise of their very own Brotherhood hero needed for their petty arguments. She had an inkling of how King Solomon must have felt like; the whole split a baby in half thing was probably less about wisdom and more about just silencing everyone once and for all. Jara made her way to the bar still fuming, a mixture of annoyance at the trivialities of her neighbors’ lot disputes and impotence at not simply being able to gut them because of laws she was more than ever subject to. Jara more than realized she was late and frowned slightly when she caught no sight of the older man waiting before the bar. Punctuality was a discipline she valued, even if it was for a simple civilian meeting, and the older gentleman she’d met the other day deserved no less. The opportunity to make a friend was probably squandered all thanks to some badly placed landscaping and a few square feet of dirt. And a lawn flamingo through a neighbor’s window, but that could have ended a whole lot worse. She gave the air a few deliberate sniffs, still catching Mikhail’s scent. It was recent, and it led her inside, catching sight of Mikhail at the bar. The man seemed to be a Brotherhood magnet. Having no desire to go back to her little dwelling and the nuisances she’d accumulated on her block, Jara made a stab at proper socialization. At least these people would not whine at her about koi ponds. “Saludos, compadres,” she greeted with a fanged smile, though hell knew if anyone saw her tiny figure around Cain’s behemoth one. Looking to Mikhail, she gave him an apologetic smile, the right mixture of embarrassment and sincerity and an anxious bite of her lip. “Простите, что заставляю вас ждать, Михаи́л,” she said, adding a rueful little shrug of her shoulders. “The neighbors were fighting… I had to intervene. Hope you are not too mad at me, no?” |
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| Toxin | Jan 21 2011, 01:45 AM Post #12 |
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Dustin hadn't entirely intended on going out for drinks. He hadn't really done much of it since... well, college actually, but the last time he'd come here it reminded him of that time. It had admittedly been a lot more fun, as his old friends had been ridiculous. However, he still rather liked the combination of drinks and the snacks that these places tended to have available. Particularly the spicy fries this place was great at, covered in gravy and cheese. It was like begging for a heart attack but it was sooo good. Since no one was at home and sitting around lazing about got boring rather quickly, he'd headed to the bar. Not exactly dressed to impress in jeans, a light jacket, and black boots, but it wasn't like he owned anything that he looked bad in. Not when he made his own clothes, partly to protect those around him from the less pleasant aspects of his powers but also to suit his particular style. Upon arriving, he noticed something quickly, before even seeing anyone. So many familiar faces in one place, or rather, familiar scents. Weird. Or, not so weird. This place was a favorite for a good reason. It was awesome. If they didn't have something the first time you ordered it, they were bound to have it the next time you were in. Their regular clientele included some of the soldiers of the cause after all, and that was no bad thing to be known for. Still. There was one he wouldn't have expected to find here. Making his way through the crowd, careful not to touch anyone despite his protective clothing, he joined Roger - and thus the rest of the little crowd - he waved to the bartender. Immediately he decided that snacks would wait for later. "Two mudslides! Extra chocolate. Roger, have you had a mudslide before? If you don't like it, I'll finish it," he said, grinning at the redhead and assuming the ice cream was simply the kind they used for the mudslides. Drink ordered, he looked at the others, greeting them all amiably enough with a simple, "Hey guys." Nearby the only ones he didn't recognize as Brotherhood were Russian Winter - he kept on forgetting that man's actual name - and a young woman. She rather looked like she could get on easily in their company, with the attitude that she wore like a ... whatever. No matter. The drinks were ready! Once again he grinned, displaying his fangs without a thought. Best. Drink. Ever. |
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| Russian Winter | Feb 4 2011, 03:29 AM Post #13 |
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Mikhail was sipping his vodka when Jara approached the bar. Apparently she had not stood him up. The dark skinned female slid up to the bar with cat like grace. Mikhail turned to face her, his mouth set it a hard line indicating a passive displeasure. For the first time she acted in a manner that did not carry the overtones of the dangerous killer underneath. She appeared genuinely apologetic mentioning her disruptive neighbors. Her peevishness at her neighbors lent credence to her story. Not that Mikhail had any particular reason to disbelieve her. Besides it was more satisfying to hear that she had been held up by extenuating circumstance rather then a desire to not be there. Despite having arrived to the bar before her he still did not have a drinking partner so her late appearance had not disrupted him. As a result Mikhail’s initial irritation passed turning quickly into a smile now that he could continue drinking with companionship. “As Americans say ‘Better late then never’.” He gave a curt nod believing himself to have quoted the phrase correctly. “It is not problem.” He waved his hand dismissively to indicate that he considered the issue closed. “Please take seat. I must buy you drink.” He stated in an abrupt change of subject. As the host he felt obligated to provide the guest with at least one alcoholic beverage. “Vhen come to bar must first try Vodka.” He turned toward the barkeep who had already sidled his way upon seeing the darker skinned female approach. “Two shots vodka.” The first glass he had ordered was already nearly finished and he tipped the remaining few drops of liquid down his throat before placing the empty shot back on the bar. When the barkeep set out two brimming glasses he picked up the one intended for her and attempted to place it in her hand as if rejecting it was not even an option. Perhaps it was early in the night to start with such hard liquor but everyone should indulge occasionally. “Где вы научились говорить на русском?” He asked because she had spoken it twice in his presence now. He knew she was Latin because she had tosses several words of Spanish into her conversation on every occasion they met. He was not fluent in Spanish and had enough difficulty with English that picking up another language was not something he planned to do. He did wonder if she was fluent in Russian it was uncommon to find a fluent speaker in the states but this was Sanctuary. |
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2:11 PM Jul 11