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Kitchen
May 6, 2005 17:20:18 GMT -5
Post by sabretooth on May 6, 2005 17:20:18 GMT -5
"Oh and Sabretooth, I wouldn't let Mystique see any of those photos beforehand. She can probably cut your balls of when your awake too."
Sabretooth laughed, this guy had a peculiar sense of humor, and he was finding it quite enjoyable.
Sabretooth walked over to the table and examined the pictures. There were some with Mystique and Sabretooth on a log. Sabretooth's angry face looking up as the camera flashed, a trail of lipstick kisses up his neck and face. Mystique looked extremely suductive. These would do nicely.
"When we fight, don't be surprised if I start dismantling the kicthen."
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Kitchen
May 6, 2005 17:29:03 GMT -5
Post by caduceus on May 6, 2005 17:29:03 GMT -5
"When we fight, don't be surprised if I start dismantling the kicthen."
"Creed if all your dismantling is the kitchen, they'll know its a set up. I hate to break it too you but you do have something of a temper." Pulling his head out of the cupboard, Jean-Paul looked at the jar of what was hopefully some kind of chutney in puzzlement and shook it curiously. "I wonder who's cleaner, your or the contents of this jar?"
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Kitchen
May 6, 2005 17:33:46 GMT -5
Post by sabretooth on May 6, 2005 17:33:46 GMT -5
"Creed if all your dismantling is the kitchen, they'll know its a set up. I hate to break it too you but you do have something of a temper." Pulling his head out of the cupboard, Jean-Paul looked at the jar of what was hopefully some kind of chutney in puzzlement and shook it curiously. "I wonder who's cleaner, your or the contents of this jar?"
"What I was saying was that in the process of trying to kill ya I might throw the occasional fridge at you! So be prepared to get the hell outa the way!" he replied, looking at the jar.
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Kitchen
May 6, 2005 17:41:23 GMT -5
Post by caduceus on May 6, 2005 17:41:23 GMT -5
As Creed looked at the jar, obviously considering whether he actually was cleaner, Jean-Paul wondered what precisely he was going to do with the rest of the night. He was too fidgety and wired to be sleeping, he needed something to do.
With no warning, he threw the jar at Creed's head and dropped off the bench, strolling towards his bedroom. Another quick flight sounded like a great idea. "See you at breakfast Creed."
Jean-Paul heads Outside
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Kitchen
May 6, 2005 17:50:51 GMT -5
Post by sabretooth on May 6, 2005 17:50:51 GMT -5
"See you at breakfast Creed."
The jar collided with Sabretooth's unsuspecting face, shattering glass, which flew in all directions. Some stuck in his face, the skin quicly healeing around it.
He dug his claws in and tore the peaces of glass out, allowing the skin to heal properly. Maybe he would accidently hurt Northstar a little more than he promised during there little act. But, he was to happy about screwing Mystique over for what she did to dwell on that.
He turns and heads out of the kitchen to get some shut eye before he has to get up and shatter Moss's dreams.
((Continued in Sabretooth's room))
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Kitchen
Jun 1, 2005 20:00:39 GMT -5
Post by Quicksilver on Jun 1, 2005 20:00:39 GMT -5
(continued from Outside the HQ)
Pietro walked in from outside and closed the door. He wondered where his father might be. The plane ride had been unmercifully boring and he was hungry. He decided that he was gonna go to the kitchen, eat, and go speak with his father.
He walked down the hall to the kitchen.
Pietro entered the kitchen. He sped around and made himself a ham sandwich and got some chips. He ate and then he sat down at the table. He was happy to be back with his father and to be with people like him.
He decided it was time to talk to Magneto.Where are you, dad? he wondered to himself. I guess I'ma have to go looking for you, eh? Pietro sped off.
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Post by caduceus on Jun 4, 2005 8:31:09 GMT -5
Floating into the kitchen, Jean-Paul glanced down to see if the floor was safe to land on.
Deciding to risk it, Jean-Paul dropped to the ground, quickly and efficiently rifling through the almost completely empty cupboards.
Someone needed to go shopping and there was no way in hell it was going to be him.
Glancing around, Jean-Paul wondered if anyone had any food worth eating stashed in their rooms. He was almost hungry enough to raid them but...considering the other members of the Brotherhood, he revised his estimate. He might be hungry enough by dinner. Or tomorrow.
Sighing, Jean-Paul set about rummaging again. Maybe he'd missed something the first time
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Kitchen
Jun 5, 2005 14:49:45 GMT -5
Post by caduceus on Jun 5, 2005 14:49:45 GMT -5
This was absolutely intolerable. There was no damn food.
Jean-Paul took off again, rifling through the upper cabinets muttering to himself direly about "idiotic furballs", "blue skinned tramps" and "bitter impotent old men who can't stock cupboards.
This was supposed to be a mutant terrorist cell. How the hell were they expected to fight for power with no damn food?
Slamming the cupboards shut, Jean-Paul landed a little heavier than his customary graceful descent, feet thudding to the ground angrily.
Pausing just a moment, he then uttered a single syllable.
"Ow."
Lifting his foot up, he examined the cut, spotting a sliver of glass which he pulled out, wincing just a little. "******* Creed." He muttered angrily. Honestly, he'd at least hoped Mystique had bothered to house train the man.
Jean-Paul glanced at the chairs and immediately discarded them as possible places to sit. Those rickety, mouldy monstrosities? No chance. Instead he lifted off again, feet trailing behind him as he left the kitchen.
There was no way that he was going shopping.
These were Mystique's brats, she was responsible for making sure that they were feed. Spinning, Jean-Paul headed for her bedroom. He'd almost pay money to see Mystique go shopping.
Jean-Paul exits for Mystique's room
Double posting is bad. Very bad me. Boohoo.
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Kitchen
Jun 22, 2005 13:17:04 GMT -5
Post by caduceus on Jun 22, 2005 13:17:04 GMT -5
Stalking back into the kitchen, Jean-Paul snatched one of the bags full of food from where Creed had dumped them on the counter, rummaging through it angrily.
"Did you buy nothing that isn't meant to be barbequed or deep fried?" He snapped angrily to the feral man.
Sighing, he threw all the raw meat onto the counter and retreated to a corner with the rest of the contents of the bag. Normally, he wouldn't have touched them with a ten foot pole but honestly missing meals with his metabolism was quite dangerous.
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Kitchen
Jun 22, 2005 16:11:35 GMT -5
Post by sabretooth on Jun 22, 2005 16:11:35 GMT -5
Standing up quickly and hitting his head on the shelf that he was stuffing things onto, he stepped out of the walk-in refrigerator and snarled at Jean-Paul. "If you want a certain food, you go buy it yourself. You told me we needed food, you didn't specify what kind. I bought food. Next time you bitch aout it, I'm going to shove a spit up your ass and cook you."
Grabbing one of the sides of beef, he headed back into the refrigerator, hanging it in the back. On his way out, he grabbed a box and threw it at Jean-Paul. "Fruit. Should be right up your alley."
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Kitchen
Jun 22, 2005 16:38:52 GMT -5
Post by caduceus on Jun 22, 2005 16:38:52 GMT -5
If you want a certain food, you go buy it yourself. You told me we needed food, you didn't specify what kind. I bought food. Next time you bitch aout it, I'm going to shove a spit up your ass and cook you." Creed snarled in his customary fashion.
"Promise?" Jean-Paul replied, sticking out his bottom lip and widening his eyes, batting his lashes at the feral. Honestly, the man was a walking stereotype.
On his way out, he grabbed a box and threw it at Jean-Paul. "Fruit. Should be right up your alley."
Like that one was original. "How sweet." Jean-Paul replied acidly, reaching in and pulling out an apple. "Oh dear Victor, your sweating like a swine. Was it hard carrying the big heavy boxes up the big bad hill?" Polishing the apple against his shirt, he finished "Why don't you go and get changed?", biting down on the apple sharply.
"Mmmhmm," he murmured. "Crispy."
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Kitchen
Jun 22, 2005 18:10:25 GMT -5
Post by sabretooth on Jun 22, 2005 18:10:25 GMT -5
He growled again, trying to supress his rage. "My clothes... are gone."
Picking up the box once Jean-Paul had selected an apple from it, he replaced it on the shelf and closed the door, grabbing a beer. He leaned against the counter and toko a long drink of the beer then raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
He knew full well that Jean-Paul had done it, but he was having trouble deciding whether he preferred the man when he was silent or when he was babbling like an idiot.
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Kitchen
Jun 23, 2005 5:41:11 GMT -5
Post by caduceus on Jun 23, 2005 5:41:11 GMT -5
He growled again, trying to supress his rage. "My clothes... are gone."
"Really?" Jean-Paul replied brazenly. "Was it some kind of terrible accident or did they all get so filthy that they stoodup and walked out by themselves?" Apparently Creed didn't quite accept this as fact, taking a long drink of his beer and asking "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
"Me?" Jean-Paul said, eyes wide, the hand not holding the apple flying to his chest. Cocking his head, he continued "Now how could you suggest I'd do such a thing Creed? I'm hurt." Taking another bite out of the apple, he continued "Besides, I would have had to fight off the good taste fairy and the hygiene gnome to get there first."
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Kitchen
Jun 23, 2005 16:08:26 GMT -5
Post by sabretooth on Jun 23, 2005 16:08:26 GMT -5
"That's it." Victor had had enough of the little twerp's babbling and taunting. This guy, one of the new guys, had no right to call him names and make fun of him. He thought he was so much better than Creed. Well, Victor would show him. He threw his bottle of Beer at Jean-Paul, hoping that it would connect with his head, then lunged at him, arms outstretched.
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Kitchen
Jun 23, 2005 16:36:37 GMT -5
Post by caduceus on Jun 23, 2005 16:36:37 GMT -5
"That's it." the other man growled angrily.
"Oh, so you agree with my about the existence of small supernatural creatures devoted to enforcing the virtues of hygiene and good fashion sense among other things?" Jean-Paul chattered, some suicidal instinct forcing him to continue.
Creed reacted predictably, throwing the beer bottle at Jean-Paul and lunging to attack. The man was just too cliched. Flicking his little "switch", Jean-Paul activated his powers, blurring as his hand whipped out to catch the bottle, swing it around and hurling it back at Creed.
Lifting off the ground, he landed on the metal table behind him, just out of range of the idiot for now. Sighing audibly, he said "God, Creed, when will you learn. You can't hurt me. Your not fast enough.
This entire place was making Jean-Paul angst. It was horrible; angst wasn't for real people. They were supposed to be terrorists, not bad soap opera characters.
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