| Welcome to Xmen Revolution. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| You Don't Say; -Trevor | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Jun 6 2014, 12:00 AM (110 Views) | |
| Jamie Madrox | Jun 6 2014, 12:00 AM Post #1 |
|
Unregistered
|
There were some jobs that you just couldn't pawn off on a dupe. Believe me, when you have powers like Jamie Madrox does it becomes really easy to have an arsenal of 'gophers' at your disposal. It was great to tell someone, hey-go to the store for me and pick up some groceries, or hey I need you to sit in on this boring SHIELD meeting for me. Take good notes! And they had to do it because well technically they were you and you were their boss and your interests were their interests. But that didn't always work. And no matter how much Jamie had wanted to send a dupe out for him on this particular day, he simply couldn't. It didn't work that way. And so he went to the dentist all by himself. They had numbed his entire mouth, and the procedure had taken so long that they had to numb it a second time. Hours later he'd had Trevor pick him up and bring him back. He'd been under the influence of whatever it was they had given him, and not particularly wanting to go back to Brownstone (or kill the buzz for that matter) he had Trevor take them to the nearest bar. Where the two of them proceeded to take a booth in the back with a fresh pitcher and a couple of frosty mugs. Jamie rubbed at his numb mouth. "Mad, I do' no whadthay put in dath thtuf but ish my faith dwooping?" A few people turned, gave Jamie the oddest look and then looked at Trevor with a kind of sympathy. Jamie didn't seem to notice. He did notice that his lip seemed to be drooping down. He wondered what it would be like as he filled his mug up with the frosty brew to have a face that was permanently droopy like this. "And onthe pluth thide I tink my toof ith bedda." He raised his glass in cheers. |
|
|
| Trevor Fitzroy | Jun 11 2014, 07:06 PM Post #2 |
|
Unregistered
|
It’d been a long time. Trevor had put his head down and worked and dated a little feisty Latina girl and didn't pay much attention to anything else for a long, long time. Why would he, really? He was perfectly happy doing much of nothing with Gloria. Well, not nothing, but the something he was doing was something that had nothing to do with being a mutant, running into beings that wanted to destroy or capture the world, and all that jazz. It was more like just living a ‘normal’, if hermit-like, life. Trevor didn't mind it at all. He still came to the Brownstone, he still showed up when needed. Its just that there were many nights that his bed was left fully made. Of course, that all ended when Gloria disappeared. She hadn't gone without saying something, but the something she said was so vague that it took Trevor a bit to actually physically search for her before giving in to the fact that maybe, just maybe, she had gone just like her friend Dominic had said she would. They had always alluded to her leaving for her own good and Trevor had tried his best to add his two cents in - wouldn't it be a good idea - if you leave - to go with a guy who can literally teleport all over the place in less than a second? Maybe she was trying to save him from something. Maybe she was trying to protect him. It was more likely that she was trying to protect herself and was just tossing in the extra mystery so she wouldn't have too much to explain to some old guy that she’d bedded for fun and profit. Ah, well. At least it was fun. And at least Trevor’d always have that little picture they took on Coney Island. Now, he was back at the Brownstone, the same Trev’ as ever, and Jamie was looking for him to help out here and there, just as always. He was very inclusive, that one was. And Trevor couldn't say no when he asked with a ‘pwetty pwease’, so the two went to the dentist, Trevor read himself a couple of six month old ladies magazines, and then got ready to take Jamie home. “Naw,” The other man said. “Lesh git uh drank.” And Trevor knew that slur very well. Jamie was going to enjoy this drink - mixing it with whatever drugs the dentist gave him would be exciting, to say the most, and would give Trevor a place to drink and smoke with a friend instead of alone. He was happy with that and so he drove the two to a little dive not far from their home, parking outside of it rather well, if he said so himself, and booping the alarm with a flick of his thumb. As they sat down, he grinned at Jamie’s lisp and shook his head a bit. Starting out with something light was a good idea. He honestly didn't know what sort of drugs the dentist used and wasn't going to just go whole-hog into drinking with his friend. Well, he might, but he’d watch so that he made sure Jamie did not. “Eht’s behn, och Ah dun’t ken, eht leest fower yars ur sae sance ey’ve behn tae th' dentuhst. Hae’re saddehsts, th'ole lot ay’em, ye ken?” He paused and picked up his drink, taking a nice sip and then exhaling the chill. Americans and their freezing beer. “Cihn ye ‘magine baein' a wee bairn an' sayin', ‘Oh when Ah graw’up, Ah want tae torchure fowk by daein' awfy things tae their mooths an' eht will aw be paed bae thar wark pleese!’” Shaking his head, he added, “Effn mah bae hud sayed 'at, i'd've slapped th' silly reit oot ay heem, Ah wood've.” |
|
|
| Jamie Madrox | Jun 12 2014, 02:43 AM Post #3 |
|
Unregistered
|
“Farkin saddhiss ish rite,” he said as he took another sip. The cold drink felt great on his gums. Honestly he was pretty sure tomorrow when all of this medicine had worn off he was going to be in big trouble. Of course, he did have a prescription for pain pills, didn’t he…. “Ai cold av thworn he wath waffinatme.” Though honestly Jamie couldn’t remember what he had said when the drugs had started to really kick in. His designated driver dupe told him later that he had come out to the waiting room staggering and telling everyone to say eight when asked how the pain felt on a scale to ten. Maybe he was just laughing because of some random comment and not because he was a sadist? Who cared? Jamie took note the way Trevor was smiling and he knew he’d made the right decision. “Glad you hab nutfin elbse to do. Itsh gooto haf da copany.” And he meant that, every last word, from the bottom of his heart. And for a moment they fell into a comfortable silence. Jamie watched some guy across the bar show some pretty girl how to throw darts. One hand was on her ass, one arm wrapped around her side as he helped her find the motioned and displayed in the most pervy way possible that it was ‘all in the wrist’. All in the wrist…Jamie was sure of that. He decided to get real, so to speak. Try and gauge where Trevor was and how he was doing with all of the craziness. “Whabou you? I habben adda chants toothee ow aw thithiss settinwithoo.” Wow, the alcohol was really tying his tongue up. He frowned and really focused to get the last part out. “Thumreathon I do thee ewe ath libbin inna limelight.” He tipped his brows curiously. |
|
|
| Trevor Fitzroy | Jun 13 2014, 02:18 AM Post #4 |
|
Unregistered
|
Ah, the whole television thing. To be honest, Trevor would have rather been in the dentist’s chair than in front of the cameras - but no one behind them ever asked his opinions. The good thing was that he hadn’t done much to draw attention to himself and he had the program to thank for meeting Gloria. Then again... he didn’t have her anymore, did he? Since she’d left, he’d come back to the Brownstone and started to learn the ways of the camera crew. Knew when they came by, when they thought they were sneaking around or hiding, and could tell where they were on the first floor when he was in his room and for all his knowledge, he could tactfully avoid them. He imagined that the show would have a few scenes with his tell-tale green glow in the background as he moved from one place to another, but what did it matter? He didn’t speak much when they asked him questions in the little room they called ‘the Confessional’ (which was really a broom closet where they had dumped old files and such before the show) and when he did speak, he made sure it was with his thickest possible accent. Now and then, he’d slip in a cuss word that would never be caught by an American audience and he’d wink to the camera. He was truly hoping that a Scotsman or two were watching just to see what he could get away with. It wasn’t Jamie’s fault that he was so enthusiastic about the whole thing. Actually, Trevor really appreciated that about his friend. If only he could be so enthusiastic about anything... Now and again, he seemed to be able to bring the emotion about for a woman, but never for himself. He sort of drifted in and out of every day, not quite living, but certainly not stuck in his depression. Just sort of going on with life and waiting for something to happen, like meeting Gloria or solving a case or seeing himself on television. Jamie actually lived his life. It made Trevor’s rather obviously boring by comparison, but he stayed close enough to the other man to hope that it would bleed off on him or get sucked in through osmosis. Now, he just stared sidelong at Jamie and shook his head. Trevor wasn’t made for fame, at least that’s what he thought, and he let the other know. “Lehssen, Eye’vnae got th' guid lehks ye hae ur th' caervs Alix’as ur... pure aenyfin' mair inter’stehn' th’n in accent nae’a’b’dy cihn translaet... boht sumehaw th’cameras fin' mae an' Eye ‘nd oop thaur, oan th' scraen.” He paused and took a generous sip of his beer, exhaling with a grin when he finished. “Eye gu’ss eht's braw. Eye pure techt, Eye dehd fin' Gloria fraem eht aw. Ehf saemethin' loch 'er’appened again, Eye s’pose Eye coods bae on-again wi' th' shaw.” Really, there wasn’t much Trevor wouldn’t do for the right woman. Or the wrong woman. Or, almost any woman. |
|
|
| Jamie Madrox | Jun 13 2014, 04:05 PM Post #5 |
|
Unregistered
|
Out of the corner of his eye he could see a man at an adjacent table who had been staring at them in irritation for a while now. The more the conversation unfolded the more irritated he seemed to become until about halfway through Trevor’s most recent musings he slammed his mug down, muttered a few choice words and got up to leave. Jamie glanced over at him but didn’t say a word, and then shrugging at Trevor he continued where they left off. “Dat weminthhme,” he brought a bag that had been sitting next to him on the bench up to the tabletop and held up his index finger to buy a moment. “Wevahve alodda ovversto avesponchers sinthe hiddinthe bitime.” He reached into the bag and pulled something out. It was small, Trevor shaped, and had a head that ever bobbled in agreement. Jamie raised his brows as he gestured at it with both hands. “Plethy mo whethit cafro.” Such as the shirts that he pulled out. The top one had a picture of Trevor’s face and below his face it simply read ‘OCH’. And on the back of course was a large XFI Logo. Jamie seemed more than a little proud of it, and he handed it to the waitress who stepped up with another pitcher for the duo. She gave Trevor a flirty smile and walked away and Jamie looked at Trevor and said “Youwalcoom.” But perhaps the pinnacle of the Trevor memorabilia was when Jamie stood up and took off his T-shirt to reveal another beneath it with Trevor’s face on it. The navy blue shirt he was wearing actually read ‘An then yer arse fell aff’, and surprisingly enough Jamie managed to say this with very little difficulty whatsoever. The Trevor bobble-head nodded in approval. |
|
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · New York City Archives · Next Topic » |






2:39 PM Jul 11