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| Watches of the Night; Open | |
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| Topic Started: Dec 5 2012, 10:50 PM (385 Views) | |
| X-23 | Dec 5 2012, 10:50 PM Post #1 |
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Wolverine-Girl
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Date: November 12th Time: 11pm Births were traditionally, happy events. They brought families together and cemented relationships. They continued the cycle of life and made sure there was a tomorrow. But for a clone, especially one such as X-23, they were a mystery that was not for them to ever truly understand. Unlike most clones, she had been born and had aged relatively normally, but her childhood and very existence was far from normal. She had been created to be a replacement for a lost weapon and treated as such, right from her first breath. Hers had been no life for a child, no life that anyone should have to experience. Polaris and Havok’s child was fortunate; surrounded by a family of blood relations and friends, he had been created out of love, born into love and would grow with two parents and many adopted aunts and uncles, one day cousins, maybe even brothers and sisters too. Genetics were relative when you belonged to a team prefixed with the letter X, Laura had learnt. Laura had offered congratulations that had been as warm and sincere as she could manage them, but for the most part she had not been a constant face in the subterranean city they inhabited, even though she did not stray far in case they needed her for any instance. But she needed time to get used to the thought of being around something so fragile and small as a baby. Could she even trust herself around an infant? There had been one she had spared, a long time ago, but if anything went wrong… Curling her fingers around the glass, the feral took a healthy sip before setting it back down on the wood of the bar with a muffled thump. The other patrons of the establishment moved around her, getting on with their own nights and leaving the young woman to hers. With years of training, it was easy for X-23 to go unnoticed, even in plain sight. Often it was a simple case of body language and even how she arranged her jacket, her purse, her glass. Not that she was adverse to any form of company, but she was likely still on some sort of wanted list, as well as still being on the radar of the Facility so she preferred to keep attention to a minimum wherever possible. Music played in the background, acting as a filter, but still she could hear layers of conversations and the smacks and clicks as pool balls collided over in the corner. It was another easy feat for her to block out most of the noises, concentrating instead on what was around her, but instead she let them all fill her ears. Draining her glass, Laura pushed it forward, caught the eye of the bartender and gave him a small nod, producing a bill from her purse. “Same again, thank you.” Her pale fingers snuck forward and picked up a few peanuts from the basket before her and she nibbled on them quietly until her soda came. Weapon X had not rubbed off on her completely… |
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| Mala Suerte | Dec 11 2012, 05:55 AM Post #2 |
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Unregistered
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Two weeks ago Zita had been sent on a mission to Swahili to take down a mutant warlord. It should have been easy, so straightforward and simple the task. But it was anything but. She had done something that night that she could never take back no matter how much wishing and praying was done. It was an action that broke the vow she made so many years ago during her early years of military service. Forever she would be haunted by her actions… by their faces, the cold dead in their eyes. Two weeks ago Zita had taken the lives of children. There was no way that she could claim it was an accident because she had every intention to kill the people that were shooting at her. She just did not realize that some of them were unfortunately child soldiers. Vivid images of the children she had been forced to murder in Afghanistan came rushing to the front of her mind along with every emotion she had felt. In Swahili, Zita broke that night. She was reduced to a teary mess of anguish and self-loathing. She had been filled with the kind of disgust that made her consider taking her own life. Had it not been for the intervention of Cain she probably would have. After that mission, she required therapy sessions once again with Samson to ease the pain. Would she ever forgive herself? The likely answer was no. It was going to take a lot to help her completely get over the past sins and the self-hatred which was nowhere close to an easy task, but with loved ones backing her up it was going to be a bit more manageable. And a little alcohol here and there did not hurt. Zita entered a small bar stationed in Mutant Town for some downtime; it was comforting to knock back a few around her kind. Since leaving the service she never really had any issues with humans throwing their bigotry at her, but it was still nice to spend time with the muties of New York. She took up an empty seat at the bar next to a youngin. Given that this was Mutant Town there was a chance that the woman was actually way older than she looked. Then again judging by that glass of soda the bartender brought over her previous assumption of the woman’s age was correct. “Bourbon,” Zita said to the bartender before looking over. “Not being able to drink alcohol while in a bar must be something like torture. I know it would be for me.” She grinned. |
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| X-23 | Dec 20 2012, 11:56 PM Post #3 |
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Wolverine-Girl
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It was enough for Laura to sit within her isolated shell at the bar, drinking for the sake of being within the bar. If she did not, then she would be on the prowl and that could end up with some sort of altercation. However, the chance of a fight was not utterly eliminated…One of the reasons she had kept her bar job had been her ability to act as security as well as waitress. The voice broke into her thoughts and X-23 shifted her head, staring at the woman. Laura blinked. “If, I indeed wanted to consume alcohol, do you not think that I would be drinking it? What would the point be in sitting within this bar, drinking soda, when I ‘wanted’ alcohol? I would have already left and found an establishment that would serve me, if I had been refused here,” the clone raised a dark eyebrow. The comment from the woman was foolish, as was her choice of drink; the bar was far from a well-heeled establishment and the liquor was mediocre at best. X-23’s attention returned to her own business, as there was little more to say and the feral raised a finger. “A bowl of peanuts, thank you.” Taking another sip from her glass, she tossed a few nuts into her mouth when the barman presented her with the small metal bowl of seasoned peanuts. They were adequate, if nothing else. It was a shame that the same could not be said of the company, although that was her own fault and deep down, she knew it. Laura had a place down in the subterranean city that she now called home, company too. But, it was easier to brood there, so there she stayed. |
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| Mystique | Dec 21 2012, 02:08 AM Post #4 |
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Unregistered
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"I figured I'd find you here." A voice came out. It wasn't raspy, but it was dark, as was the man who moved to lean on the bartop beside her as he looked to the server and gave a nod. "Jack and Coke, please." He said, rifling through the small bowl of nuts and picking one free of its friends, pinching away that annoying little papery hull and flicking it aside like a bit of dust. He ate it, looking around the place and then casting an eye to the woman next to X-23 before looking back to Laura with a sympathetic eye. "I see recent events," He continued, eyes shuffling between hazel and a witchy yellow that would be familiar to the girl, "have given you just as much pause for thought as they have me." His drink arrived and he slid a bill across the countertop, taking a sip and turning to lean back on his elbows, the creak of his leather jacket a real as the facsimile of clothing appeared. Again he looked to the woman, who for whatever reason seemed familiar. "She's having a bad day." He offered casually; as if strangers needed justification with other strangers for their own less than pleasant and stormy moods. That was, after all, what places like this were for, right? Correcting such things. Again his eyes moved back to young girl who was very much more than simply that. "If I'm bothering you, Laura, you only need to tell me. But I figure that we could the both of us use a little bit of..." He scratched at the thing stubble at his chin. "Well, commiseration over this happy event of ours." He let the air fall silent in case the hanger-on felt the need to speak up about her own drownable sorrows, flapping away a bit of lint from his shoulder. |
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| Mala Suerte | Dec 21 2012, 05:25 PM Post #5 |
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Unregistered
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“Well now aren’t you all kinds of pleasant. Who the hell pissed in your Cheerios?” Zita shook her head as the bartender brought over her drink. Maybe it was foolish of her to think that she would find some kind people in the middle of a bar. Nice people did not come to these places. Only drunks, horny people trying to get laid, and the depressed and miserable chose to knock back a couple in bars. At least that was what all the movies portrayed anyway. In her lifetime of drinking in places like this Zita only occasionally came across those types. A lot of the people she considered friends were met in drinking establishments actually. Taking a sip of the alcohol, she looked over to the guy rocking a nice leather jacket as he joined the pale, distraught one. “Bad day,” Zita glanced to the woman, “right.” She did not need the conflict verbal or otherwise. Tonight she was in no mood for that shit. Besides, Fury would get on her ass for causing trouble in public like that. With that in mind, Zita tossed down a couple of bucks before heading over to the pool table where two guys were coming to the end of their game. It had been awhile since the last time she played, skills were probably rusty as the door hinges of her old car. Zita stood off to the side to observe both the players and the two back at the bar. Perhaps that friend of hers would be able to put her in a more talkative mood. If not then oh well. There were plenty of other folk hanging around. “I got winner.” “You got bank?” asked a player. Zita smirked as she pulled a wad of cash from her pocket. “Always.” As the game resumed, she leaned against the back wall and sighed. At least she would be leaving this joint with a little bit more spending cash. |
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| X-23 | Dec 26 2012, 11:39 PM Post #6 |
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Wolverine-Girl
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A very deep, very low snarl started in the depths of Laura’s throat as she eyed the woman, who was clearly offended by the response she had been given. Would she have liked Laura to giggle and twirl a lock of her hair around her finger? “Do not make imbecilic statements if you do not wish to hear the response,” X-23’s words were dark and while it was neither the time nor place, the very tips of her claws were straining against the pale skin of the backs of her hands. But then a voice, not quite unfamiliar, but not what she expected, spoke and she eyed the man like a new combatant, until a flicker of ‘his’ eye revealed the true nature behind the figure. She settled. Mystique was hardly her best friend, but the feral clone knew the shapeshifter was logical enough not to start a scene in a public place like this and as such, was not there for trouble. “You were looking for me?” her question was uttered with very little emotion, but it did give her pause for thought as the brunette sipped her soda. “I was not seeking company tonight, but you are not bothering me.” Eating a few more nuts, she watched as the chunks in her ice slipped down a little further into the soda as they began to break up. It was difficult to know where to begin, explaining herself to Mystique. Talking to the former member of the Brotherhood was not the same as talking to Volt or to Wolverine or even to Havok, but if anything, Mystique would know about blood and death. Killers, they were, even if not cut from the same cloth…but they were both trying to leave it behind. After a pause of deep silence between them, in which many might have assumed they were not even in each other’s company, Laura shifted on her stool, sitting sideways to stare at Raven, regarding the unfamiliar male visage carefully. “When the city was attacked by Sentinels, Rogue, or at least the creature masquerading as her, touched me for my healing. She learnt of my childhood and afterwards, we spoke. I understand that while it was not her, it was. A copy and one whom had to convince us all. If it is any solace, she did not speak of hating you.” For Laura, it was almost quite a long speech, especially given the subject and her words were a little strained as she attempted to make her tone sincere and not so devoid of emotion. Her eyes darted around the bar from time to time, the surly woman now over at the pool table. A burst of noise at the door heralded the arrival of a small knot of friends who made for a table in the corner. Trouble was far from brewing, but the clone found it difficult to switch off, all the same. |
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| Mystique | Jan 1 2013, 09:00 PM Post #7 |
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Unregistered
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"Not specifically," Mr. Raven said, smirking. "But we'll call this a happy happenstance hm?" He sipped at his drink, casting a wandering eye as the SHIELD lady slunk off towards the pool table to engage in some bit of foreplay, no doubt. "I doubt very muchly if you didn't want to be find that I've had been able to find you anyways." He grabbed a handful of crunchies from the small dish, fingering them about in the palm of his hand and shrugging. Rogue was, topically, a tough nut to crack. The young woman technically owed Raven no love, no sort of thankfulness; indeed her initial reasoning behind taking the waifish girl in had been her potential usefulness in various feats of villainy and subterfuge; the memories of powerful men made for powerful weapons, after all. But there was a sort of love there, she knew, that came from that initial act of generosity, no matter how veiled an act of deceit it was. And Mystique, plagued at the time still by her failures as a parent on other occasions had grown uncharacteristically fond of the girl, and indeed she had softened the shapeshifter a bit from the harsh and jagged thing she'd become since her enlistment into Magneto's Brotherhood of Mutants. There was a love of family there, for sure, if unorthodox and unintelligible to any and all but the two of them. "Thank you," He said, nodding. "That means quite a bit to me right now, you know." His eyes shot over to the door as a throng of friends entered, perhaps a bit drunkenly and Raven eyerolled at the youthful cluster of personality, offering Laura a sneer. Calls of "Bro" and "Yolo" and a particular brand of annoyingly trendy glasses caught her observationalist's eye. "Ten dollars say they've a collective IQ of seven." He whispered. "And all the artistic progress of a kindergarten fingerpainting." Brushing his hand against his pantleg to rid it of crumbs, he removed his wallet and slapped it on the table. "Another for me, another for her." He said to the bartender. "And another bourbon for the lady at the pool table. I feel we've all gotten off on the wrong foot." |
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| Logan | Jan 7 2013, 11:09 PM Post #8 |
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Unregistered
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"Now there's a scent I haven't picked up in a while," Logan said to himself, his Harley slowing down as he approached an intersection in Mutant Town. He put one foot down to stabilize the bike and turned his nose up slightly, weeding through the thousands of smells that filled the night until he found the right one. There she was. Turning his head to the right, his dark brown eyes looked over the businesses that lined that side of the road. The light turned green, and he proceeded ahead at a slow pace, finally coming to a stop and parking along the curb. After he had parked, Logan walked the sidewalk with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, looking in each window as he walked by. She had come this way, for sure. The trail grew stronger as he walked, and a block from where he parked his bike he saw a bar on the corner. A smirk came to his face. Bingo. For someone who he had not had a whole lot of interaction with, Laura was just like him. The door opened, allowing a small burst of cold air to follow him in, and he shut it right behind him. Pausing just inside, he removed his jacket and his wicker hat, setting them on some hooks that were along the wall. The place wasn't too crowded, but there were a few people playing at the pool tables and several lined the bar. Some country music played in the background, not too loud, but just enough to be heard. This was just his kind of place. "Logan! You son of a bitch, where've you been? You want your usual?" the bartender called out upon spotting him while he was pouring up some bourbon. Logan made a face. Okay, so maybe he had been here once before. Or twice. Or... hell, he came here quite a bit when he was first talking to Jet since it wasn't too far from X-Investigations. They had moved to Utopia and dealt with a host of other things though, since then. But what can he say? There weren't many faces like his, even in New York. "Yea, that's fine," Logan said as he cross the bar, throwing a glance towards Mala Suerte. Ex-hitman or something, now a SHIELD goon. She was shit on two accounts in his opinion. He raised a hand towards her anyways, though, to show that he recognized her, and then looked back to the bar where Laura sat with some guy... who looked to be buying her drinks. "Looks like you're still not picky about who spends money here," he commented, referring to Mala, as he sat down next to Laura, then took up the beer that the bartender had waiting on him. Logan sipped on it once and then looked to Laura. "Hey sweetheart," he said, then looked past her towards Mr. Raven. "Who the fuck are you?" |
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7:31 PM Jul 11