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Post by caduceus on Jun 16, 2005 7:43:38 GMT -5
Jean-Paul zoomed over landing behind the pair probably before they realised he was there. They seemed a little mismatched, the grizzled, dark haired man slamming some sort of cane into the door and the younger red-headed woman, peering off towards the smoke from his public service.
"There's no-one home." Jean-Paul said, hoping to get the man to stop his banging. It really was quite loud and the the Creed-related smells had given him the beginning of a headache. "What do you want?" He said flatly.
There. Mystique could never criticize his manners.
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Post by Siryn on Jun 16, 2005 9:57:25 GMT -5
Theresa turned quickly at the sound of a voice behind her, her long red braid whipping past her shoulder and coming to a rest near her arm. She stepped closer to Tom, a habit he was probably going to get tired of real soon, and stared at the man who had appeared out of no where.
He was tall and quite possibly one of the most good looking men she had ever seen. His black hair was perfectly styled, just a bit longer in the front and it seemed to drift down around his eyes. And his eyes were such a piercing blue. However, they lacked any real warmth to them and it made her frown. That was too bad and she wondered if everyone in this place was going to be so cold.
Not knowing what to say since she really had no clue why they were there in the first place past curiosity, she left it up to Tom to reply.
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Black Tom
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Ahh, the perks of being in Magneto's cabinet
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Post by Black Tom on Jun 16, 2005 16:15:38 GMT -5
Tom turned around to see the man who spoke to them. It was a dark haired man who looked like he spent too much time in the mirror. He seemed annoyed by there presense too. Tom dropped his cane until the hilt was back in his hand. "Maybe ya can. My young cousin and I were wanderin about and came upon this place. What is it exactly?"
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Post by caduceus on Jun 17, 2005 6:24:36 GMT -5
The two spun around instantly, reacting very quickly for non-speedsters. The red-head was studying him silently, while the black haired man finally stopped his infernal banging.
"Maybe ya can. My young cousin and I were wanderin about and came upon this place. What is it exactly?"
God, what an accent. Sounded like a "Lucky Charms" Commercial. Maybe he could what? Perhaps the man was going senile, Jean-Paul judged him about forty. Who knew with old people? His young cousin? That might float, just. But just wandering around here? In this part of Genosha? Nobody came her except the Brotherhood. Creed's smell kept them away.
Of course, explaining to them who owned this place was completely out of the question. Jean-Paul may be relatively new to this secret-mutant-terrorist schtick but honestly, half the point was to be secret. They still had to lie low since Magneto was to goddamn arrogant to bother with any picky little details such as not getting videotaped by a horde of press cameras when he was tearing apart a secret government facility.
Jean-Paul really badly needed a new job. Or new bosses. Preferrably both.
But these two wouldn't wait. Fighting down the urge to do leprechaun impressions, Jean-Paul said slowly, enunciating each word clearly "Its a building. Sometimes people live in there."
Not bothering to wait for the man's inevitable and no doubt predictable response, he continued "I'm afraid it isn't really suitable for young ladies but since you did ask...We use it to shoot....movies." There. As if that little pause didn't convey his meaning properly, he continued "Special movies. For adults."
Considering Mystique's little adventure with Creed...well Mystique's general presence really, it wasn't too much of a stretch. Although Creed arriving back might give the game away, bizarre some fetishes may but but Creed was beyond anyone but Mystique.
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Post by Siryn on Jun 17, 2005 9:35:00 GMT -5
Theresa watched the man as he spoke, his movements and facial expressions that of agitation. Was it really so odd to have visitors? It was an island, after all. Only so far you can go before you run into this building.
At the mention that she may not be old enough for their little club, Theresa's attention snapped back to what was happening and a stubborn look came across her face. Folding her arms in front of her and narrowing her blue eyes, she looked directly at the insulting man and said, “I am an adult, thank ya very much.” Her usual melodic voice had an edge to it.
Theresa was ready to just walk away. First there was the man they had helped the night before and he came back at them with nothing but demeaning insults to Tom. Now this. Who knows what would greet them next. Theresa was half tempted to tell him off but she held her tongue. This was Tom's adventure, after all. She was just along for the companionship.
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Black Tom
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Ahh, the perks of being in Magneto's cabinet
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Post by Black Tom on Jun 17, 2005 18:30:39 GMT -5
Tom almost choked himself trying not to laugh at Jean-Paul's explanation. There was no way he could convince Tom that they made movies, short of taking him on set. "So ya make adult movies, in a buildin with enough protection to be a bomb shelter? And that odor must be from scented condoms, right?" In Tom's twenty plus years of crime, he'd come across way better liars. This guy was calm and looked like he believed his story but it was just too far fetched. "So what are ya, a producer?"
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Post by caduceus on Jun 18, 2005 5:21:26 GMT -5
“I am an adult, thank ya very much.” The little red-head said, voice sharp.
"Nobody said you weren't." Jean-Paul snapped quickly, temper flaring momentarily. Flaring his nostrils, he regained control of himself quickly. Temper was what controlled animals like Creed. He was better than that. "But many young ladies find this line of work...inappropriate." Was it possible she hadn't realised quite what he meant be adult movies? There was potential for fun there, boredom had been driving him insane.
The man obviously wasn't buying the explanation, apparently being taken by a coughing fit. Of course.
"So ya make adult movies, in a buildin with enough protection to be a bomb shelter? And that odor must be from scented condoms, right?" He asked sceptically, heavy accent once again making Jean-Paul suppress a desperate urge to mention lucky charms and pots of gold at the end of the rainbow. He was awfully tall for a leprechaun.
"I'm afraid in our profession you can't be too careful. We've had a great deal of trouble with many of the more militant activist groups, radical womens rights cells and so on. They seem to find the simple bringing of pleasure to people deeply offensive. Its really quite bizarre." Sniffing audibly, he continued "The smell? I'm afraid some oil was thrown on a fire during a shoot and one of our fire extinguishers had contaminated foam. Its quite repulsive isn't it? Now we have to reshoot the entire scene and one of the performers is a terrible prima donna."
Maybe he was on stilts? Jean-Paul cursed his mind for skipping topics so rapidly as it sometimes did, he wouldn't be satisfied until he'd checked that the cane wasn't some kind of simple balancing aid because the man's feet ended somewhere around his waist. Incredibly annoying short attention span.
"So what are ya, a producer?"
Oh dear. That was a low blow. He'd gone directly for Jean-Paul's pride with that one. He'd have to pay the price too, Jean-Paul did enjoy indulging his histrionic side. "A producer?" He snapped. "Moi? I think you may be going blind in your old age, or you have lived a very tame existence." Adopting as superior as possible expression, Jean-Paul said "My name is Raymondo Stryker and I am the star of this fine establishment!"
Managing to look down his nose at he man, despite only being two inches taller, Jean-Paul continued "I do hope you aren't looking for work. It isn't really the proper line of work for hairy old men you know. If your truly desperate, perhaps we can squeeze in another janitor or something." Allowing his eyes to drift slowly, visibly back to the girl, he continued "Have you ever considered a career in the film industry?"
Pacing around her, eyeing her up and down openly, he continued to mutter quietly to himself "Yes, perhaps with a little work...." He almost hoped Creed came back now and she would get to meet her "co-star". "We have a production coming up, something a little more...low-brow than my customary line of work. You could meet your co-star before agreeing perhaps."
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Post by Siryn on Jun 18, 2005 9:42:46 GMT -5
Theresa wanted to scream at him. Literally. However, she refrained, listening to Tom and the stranger go back and forth, trying to discredit each other. It wasn't until he turned those cold blue eyes on her that she began to get uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. She still didn't fully understand what he was offering but she was beginning to think she did. Terry may have spent the better part of eighteen years in isolation but even her tutors knew to educate her on certain aspects of a relationship between a man and a woman.
For some reason, Tom wanted inside that building. He had brought her along which meant he probably expected her to help, Theresa reasoned. The man, whose name she didn't believe for one second, had finally stopped pacing around her and informed her that perhaps she could be of use to them.
Stifling a mixture of anger and fear, she took a step toward him which brought her within a closer proximity then she wanted but it was necessary. Giving him her most angelic and innocent smile, she said in a soft voice, “Why can't you be my 'co-star'? Yuir so devastatingly handsome and I'm sure you would be able to show me what to do with ease.” She reached out and wrapped her arm through his, practically clinging to him as she continued, “Why don't ya show me around so we can become better acquainted?” What she wanted to do was throw up but for Tom, she'd keep up this little masquerade.
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Post by sabretooth on Jun 18, 2005 15:24:59 GMT -5
He grunted as he made his way up the path, carrying a few sides of beef and numerous other bags of things. He felt like a mule. Still, it gave him a sense of pride knowing that there was no way in hell that Jean-Paul would have been able to heft all of that from town. As he approached the front door, he noticed a small gathering of people, including Jean-Paul himself, looking as womanly as ever. Rolling his eyes, he walked through them, not even bothering to say anything, and laid the food down on the steps, entering a series of codes to unlock the doors. When nothing happened, he turned to Jean-Paul.
"Did you change the codes again, you bastard? Is this your idea of a sick joke? Make me go buy all of this shit and then lock me out?"
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Black Tom
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Ahh, the perks of being in Magneto's cabinet
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Post by Black Tom on Jun 18, 2005 21:12:57 GMT -5
Black Tom's blood boiled when Theresa played into "Raymondo's" charade. He knew she wasn't really falling for that crap, as least he hoped not. For the sake of information, he would let it slide........for now. His face barely twitched though. For now his demeaner was still cold.
Tom's thoughts were intrupted by a large grizzley looking man who walked through the conversation with no reguard for courtiousness. Tom immediately liked this guy if only for their common dislike of Romano or whatever his name was. "You mean our dear friend Radalpho Stroker. He wouldn't do such a thing, would he?" Tom said with a mischevious smile, the sarcasm obvious in his voice.
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Post by caduceus on Jun 19, 2005 13:45:01 GMT -5
The redhead gave him a little smile, stepping in closer, “Why can't you be my 'co-star'? Yuir so devastatingly handsome and I'm sure you would be able to show me what to do with ease.” she...simpered. There was no other word for it. The girl was probably trying to be sultry but it really came off as simpering and ineffectual. She was simply overestimating the effect of a pretty face. Considering he was supposed to be a pornstar, trying to woo him with her looks was a pretty foolish strategem.
Then, wonder of wonders, she linked arms with him, continuing “Why don't ya show me around so we can become better acquainted?” Jean-Paul had to restrain himself from gagging.
It was all so romantic.
Suddenly, an angry deep voice boomed across from behind the grou "Did you change the codes again, you bastard? Is this your idea of a sick joke? Make me go buy all of this shit and then lock me out?" Oh good, Creed was back.
There's a thought he never considered would see the light of day.
Lucky O'Guinness was fuming quietly as his companions little...manouevre but apparently took a shine to Creed (the Lord only knew why), greeting him with "You mean our dear friend Radalpho Stroker. He wouldn't do such a thing, would he?"
The man was obviously a sucker for punishment, insulting Jean-Paul's looks and his name (albeit assumed) in a matter of minutes. For that, the girl was going to suffer. Sighing, he removed her hand from his arm, an expression of disgust coming to his features. "I'm afraid...what was your name? Never mind, it doesn't matter, we have to give you a proper industry name. How about....Victoria. Victoria Secret." Breezing on, completely ignoring Creed and Lucky for the moment, he continued "Well, Victoria, you're missing a few of the more essential components to be in one of my movies. You've got a few unpleasant extras which would really look out of place." He said, making a brief cupping gesture towards her chest, not actually touching her. That would be unhygenic. "But since your so interested in getting into the industry, I'd like to introduce you to your co-star."
Spinning her in Creed's direction, he said over her shoulder "May I present the fabulous Victor Creed?" Voice dropping to a stage-whisper that wouldn't carry more than ten meters at the most, he said "Don't be shy, he's normally a little bigger. Its just cold out here."
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Post by Siryn on Jun 19, 2005 20:05:50 GMT -5
She was about to kick him as he made a motion to touch her chest when he suddenly spun her around to introduce her to the furry man (was he even human?) who had walked through them. As Theresa's eyes locked on the man that “Raymondo” referred to as her co-star, she froze in fear.
His comment about it being cold was completely lost on her and even if she was paying attention, Theresa wouldn't have understood the meaning. Victor Creed terrified her. There was no other word for it. He was huge, standing much taller then herself. He looked like he belonged in a bear cave, not walking around on two feet, punching in numbers to enter a house.
Terry tried to take a step back but could go nowhere when she realized she was still next to “Raymondo”. Jerking her arms out of his hands, she stepped to the side and backed back several more steps, never taking her eyes off Creed. If anyone came near her, she was ready to run. Everything was happening too quickly for the innocent eighteen year old.
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Post by sabretooth on Jun 20, 2005 13:03:51 GMT -5
Creed growled under his breath as Jean-Paul threw the line that he'd used earlier back in his face. "Beaubier, stop being a jackass and unlock the... what's that smell?"
It was a shock, really, that he didn't notice it earlier, but he was more or less used to ignoring odd smells. In a place like this, it was best not to ask too many questions. As a sudden memory of Jean-Paul playing with a lighter hit him, he took a deep breath and headed around the building, stopping cold when he recognized some of the articles of clothing that still hadn't been charred beyond recognition. Leaping into the fire, he howled in agony as he was repeatedly burned. Still, he was able to save two shirts. Finally extinguishing the flames that had moved onto his own body, he walked back towards the entrance, his skin just beginning to knit itself back together. Throwing the shirts at Jean-Paul, he pointed one finger at the man. "You're going to die, Jean-Paul. You're going to die a painful, drawn out death that will feel like years because of your little speedy thing. I'm going to kill you."
He looked at the two newcomers and then back at Jean-Paul. "And I have a feeling that these two are likely to offer their help."
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Post by exodus on Jun 20, 2005 13:51:09 GMT -5
Exodus stopped his deep thinking and ducked into the woods along the path. He had no idea that his new experience with the poison liquid would have a unfounded effect on his bladder. He could hear a few passers as he stood in fron of a tree with his back to the path. His anger was rising as the foul smelling liquid seeped out of his body at an alarming rate.
Once he finished, Exodus stood back among the bushes and watched the front entrance of the Brotherhood compound. Anger was evident as Exodus watched and listened to the conversation. It was rather intrigueing to listen to it. He recognized everyone involved. The one that gave him the poisonous liquid was his focal point. If he had a clear shot of him without hitting his female companion, he would have taken it. But there was none available.
Instead of playing the stealthy ninja, Exodus decided to get involved. Cautiously making his way out of the bush, Exodus walked slowly towards the entrance. He didn't realize the effect it would have on his pounding headache. As he reached a closer position but kept his distance, Exodus finally made his presense known.
"I invade your home, so now you intend to invade mine?" Exodus asked quite angry. Angry at himself for not being at his post near the entrance and angry at these two, Thomas Cassidy and Theresa Rourke, for their audacity in coming here. "You knew you where you could find me," Exodus said with more anger in his voice. Red fumes erupted from his eyes. "What is it that you want?"
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Black Tom
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Ahh, the perks of being in Magneto's cabinet
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Post by Black Tom on Jun 20, 2005 23:24:42 GMT -5
Jean-Paul Beaubier Tom finally put together. So much for Radolpho. The ghastly beast in front of them may smell horrible but he was becoming very useful. This Jean-paul was trying his best to throw them off the trail but everyone else seemed to be against him and despite his comments about Theresa, Tom was enjoying watching his alibi fall apart.
Exodus showed himself again, like a cockroach. Now knowing that Exodus was a telepath, Tom put one of his tricks into play. No matter what he was thinking, the thought of Exodus Stumbling around drunk was the first thing in his mind. It was a trick he picked up over the years. Exodus also shot holes into Beaubier's story, and he was very blunt about it. "I came to find out why the peaceful little island I chose for a well needed vaction has a fortress."
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