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| One Normal Night; Tag: Jay - PM to join | |
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| Topic Started: May 15 2014, 01:28 AM (187 Views) | |
| Cessily Kincaid | May 15 2014, 01:28 AM Post #1 |
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Monday, April 21st, 9PM Sal’s Bar, New York City It was a Monday night, which meant that most of the working population was inside, griping about the beginning of the week and preparing for the rest. No one really paid much attention to the few people walking around, which was fortunate for at least one of the people on the street. It had been almost a year since she’d been part of the Brotherhood, a year of hiding in XFI, working with Alix to overcome the conditioning Exodus had put her through. It wasn’t easy – so much of what he’d done hadn’t been true mind control, simply a release of her inhibitions, an enhancement of the anger she already felt. Even now she still had trouble controlling her temper. She’d started out using an image inducer, but whereas before she wouldn’t have minded, now it felt like a cop out. The part of her that still chafed at being forced to hide despised the inducer, the need to hide what she was. Logically, she knew that hiding now was different. She wasn’t hiding because she looked different. She was hiding because, under Exodus’ control, she’d attacked government bases, and there was no way she hadn’t been caught on camera. SHIELD knew who she was, she’d been registered for years. And there wasn’t an over abundance of liquid silver metal mutants with red hair that she could be mistaken for. Unfortunately for her need to stay hidden, XFI was currently a TV show – cameras everywhere, following them around, filming them. For months, Cessily had relegated herself to sneaking around air vents, anything to avoid cameras. It was starting to wear on her. She’d been leaving the building more often than not lately, still laying low, but unwilling to sit and hide from cameras constantly. It was irritating, and her nerves were starting to fray – she’d been snappy and temperamental lately. So tonight, she’d gotten out. The slight chill in the night air made it easier for her to blend in, dressed in dark jeans and a black hoodie, the hood pulled up to hide her vibrant red hair. With her hands stuffed in her pockets, and avoiding street lights, it was hard to make out the silver skin of her face beneath the hood. Sal’s Bar was a good distance, but she liked the chance to stretch her legs. Once she got there, she pulled out her wallet, flashing her ID to get in – it was real, although not a driver’s license. Settling down at a table, she ordered a drink – didn’t really matter to her what it was, some kind of whiskey. It didn’t matter, since alcohol was pointless for her, but she was in a bar and it was what was expected of her to stay. Hesitating, she finally let the hood fall back from her face, baring her long, shiny copper hair and silver face. Glancing around, she settled a bit more comfortably into the chair at noticing that even now, not much attention was being paid to her. That was all she wanted – anonymity without needing to avoid cameras. Taking a useless sip of her drink, she savored the taste, dull as it was on her metal taste buds, but better to appear as normal as she could. |
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| Icarus | May 15 2014, 03:38 PM Post #2 |
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Darkforce Wings, Vocal Manipulation
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"Another!" A voice hollered to the bartender. A man with long, disheveled red hair had his back turned to those who had chosen booths in Sal's bar. He had been there for an hour already, and he racked up quite the bar tab just on himself. Empty shot glasses and beer bottles were in front of him. One of those drinkers who were trying to bury their pain in alcohol, to forget it, even for a moment. He knew many of those kind of drinkers from his own job as a bartender. A job he had not been very well fit for the last few days. All because of a woman. It was not the first time that the fairer gender caused him to end up in such a desperate case of wanting to forget, wanting to not care, wanting to forget everything about them especially the good times. Because remembering the good times and that he never would have them again? That was what killed him. "C'mon kid you've had enough." The bartender responded to him. "I haven't had enough until I can't..." He stopped speaking and then kicked off the bar and spun around rapidly in the chair. His face flashed to the newcomer Cessily. One she would recognize despite the tired, drunk eyes, and long unkempt hair and faint red facial hair. Jay Guthrie. He surprisingly stayed in the chair, though nearly fell out. "Until I can't stay in my chair anymore." He responded to the bartender with a tipsy smile. "Thats...when I've had enough..." He started to turn around, slowly this time. His eyes blinked at semi-random patterns as he squinted his blue-green eyes across the room. Looking right at the metallic woman despite her attempts to stay somewhat hidden. Jay got out of the bar stool, nearly tripping over his own feet. He somehow stumbled his way through the people of the bar, almost like some foreign dance as his body dipped in and out. Then he placed his hands at the table at which Cessily sat, peering closely. Disbelief on his face. "Cess?" Jay asked surprised as well as confused. "I thought you were..." Last he remembered about her was being frighteningly worried when he saw the attack with her as a member of the Brotherhood. He wanted to storm Sanctuary and take her, but duties to his former Club kept him from ever seeking her out, slapping her silly for doing something like that. He knew it wasn't her, it couldn't have been. His dear sweet metal friend, she wouldn't have done any of that, not of her own free will. "Is that really you Cess?" He asked sounding almost hopeful, his emotions going every which way in his stupor. She could probably smell the hour of drinking on his breath if she had any sense of smell in the slightest. |
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| Cessily Kincaid | May 15 2014, 10:37 PM Post #3 |
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It wasn’t all that late, not really, but the bar was pretty quiet, which she supposed was to be expected on a Monday. She preferred it that way, although to be honest, she might’ve enjoyed the chance to at least see a bar fight or some rowdiness. Except that the temptation to join in would probably end up being too much for the still temperamental young woman. So perhaps it was a good thing that she’d chosen a Monday night to go out. There were still people in the bar, enough that Cessily didn’t stand out like a sore silver thumb. It was nice to just be able to people watch from a corner. A part of her was just glad to be around people who could so easily ignore her. Lifting the glass and sipping it, her silver eyes darting around the bar thoughtfully. Even with her dulled sense of taste, the whiskey was sharp and strong, sliding down her throat. It wasn’t very obvious as she set the glass down, fingertip resting on the lip of the glass, as the liquor poured from her finger back into the glass. Like a little silver spout. It wasn’t as if she had a stomach or anything, so the alcohol was useless to her. Easier to simply let it pour right back into the glass. Someone at the bar raised their voice for another drink, sounding half sloshed already, and Cessily glanced that way, raising an eyebrow as the man spun and nearly fell off the stool. Apparently he’d been here for a while already. She was already looking away when he suddenly stood and stumbled over to her table. Silver eyes flashed up to him, already narrowing in warning, scanning his face for a second before recognizing Jay, despite the scruffy appearance. At first, her eyes widened in surprise, until the realization kicked in and she shoved backwards from the table, lips pressed into an almost panicked line. She hadn’t seen anyone she knew since getting out of the Brotherhood – shame and fear of their reaction, she supposed. He didn’t finish his sentence, and Cessily ground her teeth together, the silver of her jaw flexing as he finally asked if it was really her. God, what the hell was she supposed to say? He was obviously drunk. The useless drink in front of her was slowly picked up, and she drained the glass in a quick swallow, before crossing her arms and eyeing him warily. “Yeah, Jay. It’s me. You look like hell.” Great ice breaker, there – she was obviously out of practice when it came to being sociable. Shit, now she just sounded like an asshole. But she knew that this would end up leading to questions, questions she really didn’t want to have to face. One silver foot stretched out, sliding the chair across from her out towards him, offering him the seat. |
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| Icarus | May 19 2014, 04:38 AM Post #4 |
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Darkforce Wings, Vocal Manipulation
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"Well that wasn't exactly what I expected." He slurred slightly. "But you're prolly right." He shrugged as he took the seat that she had offered him, sitting a little too fast and in an awkward position he nearly tipped the seat back too much almost falling. Yet once again, caught himself before making a further fool of himself. He had practice operating in this state of mind from what it seemed. Maybe leaving his old friend to wonder how often the male red head did this to himself. "You're looking good. Ya know, all things considered... glad to see you out of that place without..." He stopped, nearly saying the Brotherhood, but knew eyes and ears could be everywhere. Mental spying he couldn't stop but everything else? Even drunk he knew to keep some sense about him. "Them." He finished, leaving it ambiguous. Then he gave her a genuine, albeit drunken smile. "I am so, so, so glad to see you safe. I worried about you. Was nearly ready to start a war to see you. But... in a game of chess pawns are never the ones to start war, only to fall for it." He sighed, leaning forward, elbows on the table as he looked across at her. "So I left the board." He responded, figuring she was probably wondering. "You were wondering I bet, right? Not super public about it. Not really public about a lot these days... so many secrets, and pain." His voice turned dark for a moment as his expression changed to one of sorrow for a moment as he thought of things he had done. As well as the whole issue that he was trying to forget with his drinking. "How ya been though? Good right? Mostly good? Tell me you're good, one of us deserves that at least." |
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| Cessily Kincaid | May 19 2014, 10:22 PM Post #5 |
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The look on his face was surprise – or as close to surprise as his current state could get. Okay, maybe she’d been a little ruder than she’d intended. There had to have been something more pleasant she could have said. But then, asking how he was seemed pointless considering how much he had obviously had to drink. It was easy to figure out that something was probably wrong. Fighting back a scowl at his response, she watched him drop into the seat like a sack of potatoes, a single eyebrow twitching warily. She made no move to catch him though, and fortunately he caught himself before the chair flipped to the floor. And then he complimented her, trailing off into a meaningful silence, and her face darkened into a scowl. “You can say it. Glad to see me without a Brotherhood entourage.” Her voice was quiet and studiously blank, no expression on her features as she watched him sputter out words. She could only assume he’d caught some view of her on either the news or some other video feed that had shown her working with the Brotherhood – it was a pretty safe assumption, judging by what he was saying. His concern might have been touching, and to a part of her it was. The other part of her was just bitter, and so when he explained about himself, saying that he figured she’d been wondering, Cessily leaned forward, resting her chin on her fist with a sharp look. “Not really, actually.” To her credit, her voice wasn’t nasty or rude, just stating it. She wasn’t going to lie to him. She wasn’t going to lie and say she’d been thinking about him and his situation. Not while she’d been far too busy trying to salvage what was left of herself. He tried to insist to himself that she’d been fine, practically begging her to lie to him, to make him feel better. For a moment, she considered it. Then she snorted, her eyes narrowing. “Yeah, I’m fantastic. I mean, besides the whole being tortured and mentally reshaped by Exodus into his little soldier puppet. Oh, and of course attacking and killing people for the Brotherhood. I’ve only spent the last year or so trying to learn to control the urges he trained me for.” Her voice was heavy with sarcasm, and after a moment, she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, focusing as the whiskey she’d drank slowly filtered back out her fingertip into the glass. When she spoke again, the bitterness was still pretty obvious. “But hey, thanks for thinking about me. ‘Preciate it. Really.” |
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| Icarus | Jun 13 2014, 01:47 AM Post #6 |
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Darkforce Wings, Vocal Manipulation
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"Yeah, pretty much." Jay responded in a quieter voice than he had been speaking in, but no where near the whisper she had. "I was worried, a lot...I knew you had to be brainwashed or blackmailed, something... I'm so happy to see you out of that place and away from them." He smiled weakly, almost seeming sober for a moment if it weren't for the glazed over look in his eyes. She didn't need to say if she was or not, he knew her better. He knew her, but did he still know her? That scratched at the back of his mind. "You're getting help right? Do you need help? A place to stay, anything?" He asked without question, knowing he'd help her. Even though he had so little of his own now. "I can't really give much, kind of...quit my old job at the club." Jay responded quietly as well. She would know what it meant It was kind of nice to get it off his chest, finally really say it out loud. But thoughts of the club only lead to the reason he had been drinking so much. What he was trying to forget. Who, he was trying to forget. Marie. He sighed and started to drink from the bottle, the half filled bottle was instantly drained down his throat. His body bobbed within seconds, almost looking like he was about to fall over, but not quite yet. He couldn't get her out of his head no matter how much he drank. |
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| Cessily Kincaid | Jun 15 2014, 02:21 AM Post #7 |
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He was drunk, eyes glassy and glazed, his expression barely making any sense for the conversation they seemed to be having. He was so deep into his own issues and misery that it seemed almost pointless to try and carry on a conversation. Was this what Hellfire had turned him into? The last time she’d seen him, he’d been drinking in a hotel. Now a bar. And at the rate he was going, he was lucky he hadn’t been thrown out yet. The sweet sentiment he tried to show dropped like a brick between them, with Cessily’s silver expression not even twitching. Oh, of course, he knew she’d been brainwashed or something so awful…Because thinking that made it okay that she’d been left as Exodus’ plaything. The bitter anger that she’d been trying so hard to control for the past year rose like bile she didn’t have in her throat, and she scowled at him. “Yeah, I’m ‘getting help’. Got another telepath playing in my head, trying to help me. I don’t need anything from you.” She practically spat, silver eyes flashing, and she tossed her shiny red hair over her shoulder derisively. “I’ll just heal right up from the torture I went through. You should know how fast that heals, right, Jay?” A low blow, and the second she said it, she regretted it, snapping her lips and eyes shut and forcing herself to take a long, slow, useless breath in through her nose, letting it hiss out from between her lips. This was why she’d been avoiding people for so long. This hatred that kept bubbling up when she least expected it. She had no reason to hate Jay – he was a friend, or he had been. Logically, she knew there was no way he could’ve gotten her away from Exodus. But the floodgates on her anger and hatred had been propped open by the Brotherhooder, and it wasn’t something that could just be closed. It was just…Her. Her emotions. She’d always kept them bottled up, more than anyone ever seemed to know. The hatred, anger, and shame she felt from her parents. The disgust and indignity of being forced to fly as luggage because she couldn’t go through a metal detector at an airport. It had built up over years of being treated like a freak, a monster, by humans – it was the reason she had always pretended to drink, to eat, and to breathe. Anything to be seen as normal. But sitting here with a drunk Jay, who was obviously miserable within his own thoughts, while he tried to look at her like nothing had changed, was doing nothing to help her mental state. And she didn’t say anything about him quitting his job, because to be quite honest, she couldn’t bring herself to care. |
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2:39 PM Jul 11