Magik
Junior Member
Posts: 68
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Post by Magik on Oct 25, 2005 15:05:51 GMT -5
Illyana turned toward Jean-Paul and batted her eyes ruefully. "Ever the gentleman, I see." No smiles spared for either one of them, though. At least she could parry every one of Beaubier's verbal thrusts. He was easy to pin down. A little like Belasco in some respects: self-serving, vain, intelligent to a certain extent, unwilling to admit to his own shortcomings. He was easy to handle because in her mind this was a creature she had not only beaten but killed. Which meant that she could do it again if necessary.
Kurt was different. Harder to figure out, which made her the slightest bit uneasy. But he was Mystique's son, and it was important to play the part of teammate when he could run to his mommy if he thought she had hurt his feelings.
“Am I sweet, then, or is she?”
What was this? Taunting? Like a child? Honestly, she expected more from the infamous Northstar. Still this was a game she played quite well. "It must be you because I'm notoriously known for leaving an unpleasant taste in people's mouths while you have such a," smile, "palatable demeanor."
When Kurt waved the bottle back she kept it without asking a second time. Liquor was liquor, although she'd still feel better if she knew the bottle wasn't spiked. Shaking her head, she swallowed another mouthful. The part of herself that had made people in her S.H.E.I.L.D class call her a cold witch was showing.
"What shall we drink to?"
More attempts at chivalry. Kurt had been born in the wrong era. He should be arrayed with a horse, a suit of armor with a tail hole and a lance. "Boring," she said, looking Jean-Paul square in the eyes, her opinion of his suggestion more then obvious. "So, Kurt, what is it that you're drinking to?" She was drinking to drink, much like Beaubier. The only interesting part of this little equation was Darkholme.
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Post by Mystique on Oct 30, 2005 18:33:57 GMT -5
Striding calmly down the hallway, she stopped at Northstar's door, raising her hand to knock and altering her voice to match that of one of the enlisted soldiers who worked in her security center. She pounded on the door solidly. "Agent Darkholme?"
Stepping back, she adopted a rather stiff pose, ready in case she had to dole out punishment. Hopefully, though, that wouldn't be the case. And really, she didn't feel like doing it even if it was. After all, what trouble could the three of them be getting into?
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Nightcrawler
Junior Member
Just a pirate, chasing booty
Posts: 61
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Post by Nightcrawler on Nov 2, 2005 10:10:58 GMT -5
Tucking his bottle into the folded spade of his tail, Kurt gripped the arms of his chair and raised up, sliding his legs out to sit down, kicking one foot up to rest on the edge of Beaubier's coffee table.
Watching the Speedster and the Russian snark at each other was rapidly losing its novelty. The tingle on his tongue turned a bit bitter. That's all anyone ever did lately, wave their egos and personality disorders around in some sort of cosmic pissing contest.
The Red Guard. The Heathers of the military elite.
“Am I sweet, then, or is she?”
"I wouldn't say sweet, exactly, Jean-Paul." Kurt said, studying his fine-featured face and lithe body with an careless roving eye, "I think you're a little tart."
Ah, drinking for drinking's sake. That's what he was doing, right? He felt a sudden flash of intense dislike for everyone in the room.
Himself included.
"So, Kurt, what is it that you're drinking to?"
Illyana, with her deceptively sweet doll's face and hair like soft morning sunlight, was perhaps the most dangerous person in the room. She looked like an angel.
But it was always an angel who did God's dirty work.
"To life. L'Chiam." He took a hard swallow. He almost sighed aloud at the sudden banging of a meaty fist on the door.
"Agent Darkholme?"
Oh. Wonderful.
He rolled his eyes (a useless gesture, since he had no pupils nor irises) at his companions and lurched to his feet. He crossed to the door and jerked it open, leaning heavily in the door fame, "What?" He said, a bit sharply, at whatever unfortunate grunt they'd sent to fetch him.
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Post by Mystique on Nov 2, 2005 11:00:58 GMT -5
She frowned as he barked at her, looking past him into the room for a brief second before turning her attention back on her son. "If you are sober by then, you are to join your sister and myself at the palace for dinner. I suggest that you get to work on that right away."
Stepping to the side, she addressed the other two. "Shouldn't you be training or something?" It was more of an order than a question, and her tone didn't hide that fact. She started down the hall and checked her watch, turning to Kurt and continuing. "Full Uniform, plus something to change into when we get there. My office, in 30." Turning again, she walked back to her office.
((Mystique exits to her office))
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Post by Northstar on Nov 3, 2005 0:15:55 GMT -5
Jean-Paul smiled gracious approval at Illyana, lips curving around the bottle as he took a long sip. “That’s the way,” he said, encouraging. Her call of ‘boring’ was met with a slight shrug. “Absolutely: slow, dull, and predictable.” Clearly, the speedster wasn’t slow, meaning that dull and predictable were likewise far from the target. He was fast, fascinating, fickle.
When they teamed up against him, Jean-Paul smiled, delighted. “I think my company is a bad influence on you both. ‘A little tart’? Really, now.” Unsubtle snark to follow – No doubt about being a big tart, with innuendo rife throughout. – a hard knock at the door cut him off. He rolled his eyes toward the sound: an annoyed look. He lounged, pointedly not answering it.
But – oh, no: door open, Mystique revealed. Jean-Paul quickly swallowed his snide comments, drowning them in gin. He smiled blandly as she addressed them, a lazy, “Or something,” matched by a crisp salute. He waited until she was gone and then rounded his gaze to Kurt. “Well,” he said, considering how best to approach the matter. He left it implicit in his smirk, too many options presented for mockery. “It would appear your duty calls.”
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Nightcrawler
Junior Member
Just a pirate, chasing booty
Posts: 61
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Post by Nightcrawler on Nov 3, 2005 1:39:50 GMT -5
Kurt winced as the door revealed his mother, and not some enlisted jarhead sent to ferry him some message...and he wished he could bite back his annoyed greeting.
"Of course, Agent Darkholme." He said to his mother's retreating back as she stormed off.
He waved away Jean-Paul's teasing commentary unheard.
At once, his casual desire to drink away his inner turmoil was washed away. He glanced back toward Illyana and Jean-Paul, "Carry on without me." he said, his smile distracted and detached.
And with no further nicety, he left, shutting the door behind him.
[cont in Mystique's Office]
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Magik
Junior Member
Posts: 68
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Post by Magik on Nov 7, 2005 17:13:52 GMT -5
“Absolutely: slow, dull, and predictable.”
Illyana rolled her eyes at Northstar's bid for attention. It would probably be more fun to play to him than against him, though. "Well, you know what they say, if you don't have a personality, steal one." Or drink until you develop one in Kurt's case since he was being about as amusing as a stuffed doll.
While posing herself to reply to both Kurt and Jean-Paul, though, there was a knock and then the door opened to reveal Mystique. Who looked very less than thrilled about finding her son and two members of her Red Guard drinking. In the middle of the day. Well, now, they had already discussed the flaws of the training here.
Saluting, Illyana quirked an eyebrow at her superior officer. "I was thinking maybe if I took myself out of my own comfort zone and then trained I might break through a wall." Flippant. But not so much so that she risked being sent to the brig.
With a smirk, she waved as Kurt disappeared out the door, and then glanced over at Jean-Paul wondering whether he'd want to continue the charade of camaraderie or not. "So, little tart," she grinned, "shall we continue?"
If yes, she'd be fine with drinking some more. If no, perhaps they'd be able to do their own workout session. Northstar was always fun to combat with because he moved so damn fast. Illyana was occasionally weak on speed. It was good practice.
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Post by Rogue on Nov 19, 2005 10:33:57 GMT -5
She double-checked her bag before heading down to Northstar's room. According to the drones in the Security center, that's where she was. And it made much more sense to actually look for her than to bother everyone by using the comm link. Besides, she couldn't bitch and moan about Lorna over the radios. Lorna was sitting right next to one radio and across the table (hopefully they were still across the table) from the other. Shuddering, she knocked on the door.
"Hey, Illyana, you in there? Will y'all please pull your pants back up and open the door?" She grinned. That had to be the most disturbing mental image she'd conjured up all day. Kurt and Lorna. Oh, God no. Never mind. Now, she was hoping that Jean-Paul had some kind of alcohol. Or bleach that she could pour into her brain. That might take care of the... ew.
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Magik
Junior Member
Posts: 68
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Post by Magik on Nov 21, 2005 11:50:31 GMT -5
Illyana sighed, swirling the rest of the liquor around in its bottle as there was yet another knock on the door. Glancing at Northstar out of the corner of her eye--who had been oddly quiet since Kurt left--she said, "I suppose you'll be wanting me to answer that? I'm not expecting anyone. Are you?"
And then Anna Marie's voice sounded through the door. "Hey, Illyana, you in there? Will y'all please pull your pants back up and open the door?"
Oh, goody, Kurt's sister back from their royal dinner. If she said one word about that stupid doll, though, Illyana was going to ram her Soulsword down Anna's throat and feel very vindicated in the action. "Oh, dear, we've been found out," she said to Jean-Paul as she got up and crossed to the door.
Peeking half of her face around, she peered at Anna. "Short dinner. Something awkward occur?" But she kept the door mostly closed, the bottle still clutched in her hidden hand. "To what do we owe this splendid intrusion anyway?"
Anna was all right as far as the other members of the Red Guard went. And, really, had Illyana been slightly less buzzed and had she not been spending a rather, well, quiet evening with Jean-Paul, she would have invited the other woman to join them. As it was, though, she had gotten a trifle too used to all the silence and liked it that way. Talking was overrated.
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Post by Rogue on Nov 21, 2005 12:59:06 GMT -5
Soon, the door was opened. Almost. Illyana peeked out at her, obviously a bit drunk. Great. With her luck, that meant that instead of 'porting her to New York, she'd end up in Cambodia or something. "Short dinner. Something awkward occur?" Rolling her eyes, she nodded. "Everyone else is still there. And yes." Was it really that obvious? Could people just read the look of "my brother is practically feeling up my worst enemy under the table" on her face? "To what do we owe this splendid intrusion anyway?"
She was close to making a comment about mingling with the commoners, but in Illyana's state, she might take it as an insult rather than a joke. And spending the weekend in Limbo was not Rogue's idea of fun. "Ah need you to teleport me to New York. Graymalkin Lane, the Xavier Institute." Shifting her bag to her other shoulder, she added, "We can stop at a liquor store if you're running low in there."
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Magik
Junior Member
Posts: 68
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Post by Magik on Nov 21, 2005 14:30:58 GMT -5
"Everyone else is still there. And yes."
Illyana clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and waited. If Anna wanted to talk about it, she would. As it was, though, it was more of a fleeting interest than something she would die without knowing.
"Ah need you to teleport me to New York. Graymalkin Lane, the Xavier Institute."
Oh, lovely. Inebriated teleportation. Well, she'd simply mix herself up a good potion once they got to Limbo. That'd take the effects of the alcohol away in a flash. Illyana opened the door fully, set the bottle Kurt had left her on Jean-Paul's dresser and waved. "I'm off, too. Don't drink yourself into oblivion. It would spare us all your never ending comments."
"We can stop at a liquor store if you're running low in there."
She quirked an eyebrow at the other woman. "Ha. No," Illyana said. "I hope you don't mind a stop-off in Limbo, though. It's too far a jump to port directly, and I may need a potion." And her Soulsword if Anna decided to prattle too much. It may have been meant for more mystical endeavors, but it still had a nice sharp edge to it.
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Post by Rogue on Nov 21, 2005 14:41:23 GMT -5
She nodded at Jean-Paul, grinning at Illyana's comment, before noting the multiple open containers in the room.
"Ha. No," Illyana said. "I hope you don't mind a stop-off in Limbo, though. It's too far a jump to port directly, and I may need a potion." She shrugged. It was still quicker than flying there. And a lot cheaper, too. And it was definitely less nerve wracking than teleporting with Kurt. "Fine by me."
Kurt. Lorna. She closed her eyes. If Jean was still alive, having her purge that memory from her thoughts was looking like a great idea.
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Magik
Junior Member
Posts: 68
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Post by Magik on Nov 22, 2005 18:19:05 GMT -5
"Fine by me."
Illyana nodded. "Hope you've got everything because I am not making a hundred trips back and forth. Despite what everyone may think, it is a little tiring, and Limbo is just a pain to deal with."
Waving one last time to Jean-Paul, Illyana stepped closer to Rogue and summoned one of her teleportation discs. The yellow light covered them both, whisking them away to Limbo where she'd be able to determine the route needed to deposit Anna at her final destination.
((Exit Illyana and Rogue (with permission) to Limbo))
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Post by Northstar on Dec 6, 2005 1:11:32 GMT -5
Mine. All mine. Jean-Paul’s thoughts were sarcastic, even when chasing around his own mind. His eyes strayed toward Illyana’s bottle, kindly left behind. He leaned idly as one by one the other little soldiers left: Kurt with his mother, Illyana with Rogue. He lifted his hand at Rogue, nod returned with a silent greeting. He closed his eyes against the flash of teleportation.
And then it was just him.
Jean-Paul looked around his room, taking another sip of his drink. Maybe he should go train, as Mystique had suggested. He let the drink linger on his tongue before swallowing and smiled into the empty room. On the other hand, Kurt gave good booze. Jean-Paul considered the level of alcohol in the bottle and then considered his accelerated metabolism. The conclusion was depressing.
His solution was to drink faster; the Weather Channel played on.
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Post by Captain Marvel on Dec 12, 2005 22:42:48 GMT -5
((Cross posted from Magik's room))
Reaching her room Carol got dressed in her Red Guard uniform. And headed to find the rest of the team. She would stop by Magik’s room and contact Northstar through his own communication device.
“Northstar, it’s Captain Marvel. The Red Guard has been called. Meet at Magik’s room in full uniform. We leave in five minutes. Got it?” Carol said through the device. She waited for his response as she knocked at Magik’s door. Hopefully she would be there.
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