Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
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:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
Men who watch them like hungry black eels; stacy, logan, others ask
Topic Started: Jul 3 2017, 05:02 PM (172 Views)
Stacy X
Member Avatar
Neurochemical Control/ Reptillian Traits
“…Terrorism tears down, freedom fighting builds up.”

Stacy cocked an eyebrow at Logan for that, because those two definitions were incredibly subjective and therefore likely to fall on deaf ears around men like Vincent. Sure, she wouldn’t hesitate to call the Brotherhood terrorists herself. But really, there was no consistency in how the term ‘terrorist’ was applied to describe a group’s tactics. It was invoked as a pejorative to vilify whoever needed to be discredited. People who could at least see some nobility in the ends would dismiss the negative connotations applied to the means, count the exact same ‘terrorist groups’ as freedom fighters. It worked the same way for thieves like her: they were either dishonestly taking what they hadn’t earned or they were helping ‘redistribute’ finance over an irreparably dislocated wealth gap.

She didn’t expect Vinnie to agree with her on much but he managed to surprise her, acknowledging “Fair point” on the dated references. “But seriously, Stacy, are you suggesting that the governments the X-Men help support -- the 'props and crutches', like you said -- are you suggesting they don't commit atrocities like that anymore… that it's all old news?”

“Oh hell no!” She laughed cynically. “I just ain’t obsessed with old-ass examples. He does kiiiinda have a point.” She said to Logan with a look that was almost apologetic. She’d defended him but, ever the stubborn fence sitter, it wouldn’t feel right not admitting the parts she could understand from Vinnie’s side. There was a reason she’d willingly sheltered Brotherhood refugees like Toxin in the past.

“Like… America used t’say Iraq was a shelter for ‘terrorist groups’ like the Mujahedin-e-Khalq.” She even made the air quotes gesture with two black talons. “Back when Saddam Hussein was runnin’ the show an’ they wanted an excuse t’invade. Now we’ve got their oil, Iran’s taken over as public enemy and the Mujahedin get t’come off the naughty list ‘cause they’re terrorizin’ Iranian nuclear boffins more than our guys.” She offered. “If you guys started pickin’ on North Korea or somethin’ I’d bet my fangs on SHIELD suddenly gettin’ off your backs.”

She looked between them, realizing she didn’t often let herself rise above that ‘street-smart hooker’ image that usually kept her nicely underestimated. She cleared her throat and took another drag of smoke. “I mean, I’ve screwed three different politicians all gettin’ payed ta lobby for them Mujahedin boys, talkin’ like they was owed a Nobel Peace Prize now. It’s fucked up but that’s how it is.” She shrugged. “Terrorism’s a tactic, not an ideology. Your tactic was t’mess with my friends,” She shot at Vincent, “So I get t’call you whatever the fuck I like. But some Iranian energy billionaire or a Genoshan mutie, they might say different.”

Mesmero seemed to get a burst of enthusiasm that quickly burnt him out when faced with Logan’s stoic gaze.

“I get that you think that's a huge moral difference between us,” he told Logan, "because my hands aren't… because I actually killed some of those civilians myself. So, yeah. I did. We did. And you think that makes you lot freedom fighters building shit up and us terrorists tearing things down, that it makes what you're doing good and what we're doing bad, and all that. And I get that you think none of it amounts to a hill of beans anyway, since we aren't important enough to change anything that matters.”

“Sorry honey, gotta call it how I see it.” She held up her glass, giving an unapologetic grin. “Specially since this is like the twelfth or thirteenth drink I’ve had now.” She’d gotten through a decent volume with Pharmacy long before she’d noticed Vinnie at the bar.

“SHIELD takes down the Brotherhood, Sanctuary gets destroyed, Magneto disappears, Magneto comes back, nobody really cares. Human nature, like you said. We can't do shit about it. Like you said, Stace… we could all die tomorrow and nobody'd really care. Hell, Cyclops' brother killed like a billion people, and there was a big to-do about it for a while when everyone found out, and then everyone got busy with the next thing. We don't matter, really.”

Stacy tapped one claw to her nose while pointing to Vinnie, like he’d just made a correct guess in a game of charades as he stubbed out the cigarette she’d given him. The thief had always played nice around X-Factor because Lorna and Box were sweethearts. And she played nice with Hellfire because the Coleridge kids were precious. Both groups harboured figures you could technically define as mass murderers acting under duress. She just actively tried not to think about it too much.

Vinnie refused to agree with her but that was fine. It was honestly better if he was killing for a cause he believed in, not killing for the sheer love of pointless bloodshed. That kind of behaviour strayed into the territory occupied by Omega Red and Sabretooth. She’d shared beers with Creed, but only because she’d have done just about anything to avoid evisceration when he showed up uninvited…

“From where I sit it's all the same fucking machine that chews those bodies up and spits them out, whether that's nice church-going Purifiers blowing up mutant kids, or government-funded armies bombing enemy towns, or SHIELD-sponsored covert operations, or racist police taking down kids in the street, or whatever.”

Stacy knocked back the last of her Kamikaze, idly wondering whether he was seriously going to lump her in with all those groups who kept the meat grinder running. As far as she was concerned there were the ones turning the crank and the ones trying to break it and sometimes they were indistinguishable. Between them were the people like her, little lambchops struggling not to be dragged into the process by either side because they refused to feed themselves into the blades but they weren’t willing to jam the cogs with their bones either.

“Honestly, you lot will probably win. I mean, let's face it, you've had us in hiding and on the run for years, you and SHIELD and everyone else. Even after the Vault breakout you still have half our heavy hitters null-cuffed, and who knows what you're doing to them.”

Stacy stifled a flash of guilt. She’d seen how the mutant prisoners on the Raft were kept. And she still hadn’t had any interest in freeing anyone but the one convict they’d been sent to find. The others who’d escaped were sheer collateral damage. Not their monkeys, not their circus.

“But, like you said, Logan… maybe when you're done with us you and that brass-balled psychic you're so fond of can look around and actually do some fucking good. Anyway, thanks for the drinks," he added, standing up. “And the smoke,” he added to Stacy. “Too sweet for me, but they suit you.”

“I’m a sucker for anything bitter with a dash of sweetness.” She winked. “Like Logan’s taste in drinks, I guess.”

“I've gotta see a man about draining a lizard, or however that goes.”

“Long as that’s not a joke ‘bout us scallies.” Stacy laughed, waving him off before turning to Logan, fang-laden grin still in place. “And you, Mr Flattery-Gets-Me-Everywhere… If I’m one’ve the smartest people you know, I’m seriously gonna have to tip off the school inspectorate ‘bout Xaviers.”

The second round of drinks Logan had ordered was brought over. She took the tray and downed one glass in a single chug. After a moment’s pause she drained a second one. “Figured Vinnie owed me more than the one shot he got me. I’m taking this one on Thebe’s behalf.” She shrugged before transferring a final glass to the bar next to the Wolverine.

“I’ll give you guys some privacy if you wanna do some last minute dick measurin’ before kick-out time. I got both you guys beat on that front already.” She grinned as she slid off her bar stool, tail curling around one leg and giving off a cheeky little rattle. The booze was starting to get to her, she was definitely drunker than she’d planned to get when she’d turned up. Getting drunk with Remy in her own kitchen was one thing, but in Hell’s Kitchen at stupid o’ clock it wasn’t the best of ideas.

“Guess I’ll see you both at the next ‘ball game’. Thanks for the drinks.” She gave Logan a conciliatory pat on the arm before sidling off, the flatscan crowds parting to let one half of the mutie freakshow out as quickly as possible.
Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Create your own social network with a free forum.
« Previous Topic · Hell's Kitchen · Next Topic »
Add Reply