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Post by Caine on Sept 24, 2019 12:46:41 GMT
"Any luck getting an I.D. on this guy?" The detective asked the nurse at the desk. People were still reeling from the destruction of the bank, everyone was wanting answers, and the John Doe in intensive care was the only lead they had. "Not yet, it's like the patient didn't exist until the other day."
"Seriously? There's nothing on our Mr. Doe?"
"I told you, Harrison. If there's nothing in our files about this guy, the doctor's wouldn't have much either." The older of the two was obviously not taking this as seriously as his younger partner. "The man's a ghost. No background, no prior address, we'd have better luck looking for Bigfoot or finding a leprechaun's pot of gold."
Harrison hung his head in frustration. Not only did the commissioner want a bit more light shed on exactly what happened at the bank, but the station's benefactors wanted a scapegoat for the attack. Who better for the role than a super? "Where's the suspect's room?" "It's just at the end of that hallway on the right--- Um, sir? Sir, you can't just... Oh no... Security." They could call security, he had more authority than they realized. Once the right words reached the right ear, the police would have free reign of the hospital. Of course, Harrison couldn't wait that long. He stormed down the hall to where Mr. Doe would be recovering, one way or another he was getting answers. He opened the door and....
Nothing. The suspect was gone. And so were Harrison's chances of promotion....
~~~~~~~
This club wasn't Caine's usual idea of a good time, but he's always heard people talking about it. And after that mess at the bank, he needed to just drink and drink some more, as much as he needed to help him get over that royal screw-up of his. He saw the news stories, people were scared, but as far as he knew, his likeness hadn't been leaked, just a blurry image on security feed. And he could always just change people's perspective and make himself lookdifferent to them, so if the police ask about him, they would say that they never saw him, and as far as they knew, it would be the truth.
So here he was.... drinking.... trying to forget... like every other sad soul in this club. Sure they smiled and laughed on the outside, but they all had their own crap to deal with. And instead of making them less scared, now they're damn near terrified of people like him. He got more people talking, but most of it wasn't the good kind of talk. Oh god, he was getting sad again.
He needed more beer...
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Post by Ayen Matthews on Sept 25, 2019 0:22:48 GMT
Ayen wasn't happy. Now his face was on the news because of that business at the Plaza. On the plus side it would give him more traffic on his review videos he posted on YouTube, on the other side all the mutant haters were going to be after him now. He needed a drink, and he knew the Razor's Edge was the perfect place.
Ayen stepped inside the nightclub and walked over to the bar ordering himself a cold beer to begin the drinking. He noticed Caine and figured he was somebody new in town because he didn't recognize him, and he knew about everybody who came to this club regularly. Even some of the city's youth who love to frequent around here.
"Haven't seen you around here before," he greeted as he took a sip of his beer. "New in town?" |
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Post by Caine on Sept 25, 2019 1:25:43 GMT
Oh dear god, someone was talking to him. Why couldn't Caine just drink in peace? He just wanted to drown his sorrow in whatever the name of this crappy beer was. But no, the universe wanted him to be 'friendly.' "Pretty much. And if I may be so blunt, this club you locals are so fond of? It sucks. Crappy, new-age music, lousy booze, and it tries way too hard to be 'hip' and 'cool.'" He took another sip of his drink, the tone in his voice making it clear, in the most threatening way possible, that he wasn't looking for trouble, but Ayen would regret it if he caused any. If he took a closer look, Ayen would see that at the moment Caine looked like absolute crap, he was beaten and bloodied, though many of the wounds were already treated.
"So was there a particular reason you decided to sit there and try to strike up a conversation, or is fate just being even bitchier than usual?" After a brief pause, Caine sighed and simply shook his head. "Sorry, man. I've just had a rough couple of days. Didn't mean to take it out on you. It ain't your problem."
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Post by Ayen Matthews on Sept 25, 2019 16:19:50 GMT
"Yeah, well, the girls here are cute, so..."
Ayen didn't feed the need to defend the club. It wasn't the best club in the world, but it wasn't the worst either. And the women that came in here were worth taking a look at too, if you were into that kind of thing. He had no comment on the music. Ayen just drank his beer as the man kind of lashed out and then apologized for it later.
"Just being friendly, but if you'd rather drink in peace, I understand." |
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Post by Caine on Sept 25, 2019 18:08:59 GMT
As if on cue, three very attractive young women walked past the bar, their outfits leaving little to the imagination. "Well, I can't argue with that. You make a very good point." Caine let out a light chuckle as he watched the girls walk away. The Razor's Edge probably wasn't as bad as Caine thought, it was probably just that crappy mood of his talking.
"No no, it's fine. With my drinking history, it'd probably be better to shoot the breeze than just stay stuck in my own head. That way I'm less likely to end up punching out a cop..." or possibly burning down a crack house, but in his defense, no one got hurt and the city of Cincinnati was gonna gentrify that part of town anyway. "Names Caine."
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Post by Ayen Matthews on Sept 26, 2019 0:09:22 GMT
Ayen had to snicker a bit that his half ass attempt at defending the Razor's Edge actually worked. Then his eyes fell on the women that walked pass the bar and he groaned at how sexy they were. He loved Kansas.
"Ayen Matthews, and I lived here all my life so if you have any questions about the place feel free to ask." |
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Post by Caine on Sept 26, 2019 0:35:48 GMT
Ayen... weird name, but then again Caine named himself after someone from an old religious book. He was the last person to judge someone in that regard. And it probably wasn't a god idea to make fun off the first friendly face he had met since arriving in Kansas City, especially after his little outburst. As he finished off his drink, his mind briefly flashed back to the bank, and the robber's last words before everything went sideways.
Vilain... the more that name echoed in his mind, the more it gnawed at him like an itch. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had heard it before, but as usual, every time he tried to remember, he just drew a blank. But this guy claimed to know this town pretty well. Maybe Caine's luck was changing? "Well, let's say I was looking for information on a certain individual. I don't suppose you'd happen to know someone who could point me in the right direction, at the very least?"
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Post by Ayen Matthews on Sept 26, 2019 16:14:16 GMT
"That depends on what you're looking for exactly. I know a professor that lives on the outskirts of the city that takes in gifted youngsters, and I know there's an information broker making a name for himself somewhere in town called "The Genius." But I don't know much about him."
Charles Xavier would've been the best bet, but he mostly dealt with mutant problems. The Genius dealt in everything and took no sides, but no one has ever seen his face, so finding him was a bit of a question. There were rumors of his agents working all across the world and a base somewhere in town, but he wasn't sure to the exact location. |
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Post by Caine on Sept 26, 2019 22:08:33 GMT
Ugh, info brokers... Caine never trusted them, and he usually had good reason to. He could try to remember all the times he got screwed over by them when he worked for Castillo, but he didn't think he could count that high. "Yeah, I think I'll make it a point to avoid the broker. In my experience, a deal with those types is practically a deal with the devil. What do you know about this professor guy?"
The minute those words escaped him, he felt a chill crawl down his spine. He couldn't help but feel like he was being watched. He did what he could only describe as a quick telepathic scan of the club and.... nothing. He couldn't find whoever was spying on him. Either he was being paranoid, or his stalker was good as masking their thoughts.
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Post by Jean Vilain on Sept 26, 2019 22:34:21 GMT
So he had actually survived the blast. Even with his scrambler blocking all of Caine's abilities, he still found the will to live despite being helpless. Jean was impressed to find a mortal with such tenacity. He looked on from the VIP lounge at Caine making friends with Ayen Matthews. Ayen made an excellent show fighting off that 'genetic experiment from space gone wrong.' Being around two telepaths wasn't a problem though. He had his scrambler on at low power. Just enough to disrupt them from probing too deep into his mind. He had many stolen memories he could call on to throw them off. Tonight he wasn't Jean Vilain. He was Claude Hero.
"Is there anything else you'd like me to bring you Mr. Hero."
"Please gorgeous. Just call me Claude and yes. Those two gentlemen down there at the bar. Get them the most expensive whiskey on me. Tell them 'For being superb heroes to the city.'"
She blushed at the remark, but regained her composure when Jean handed her more than enough money to pay for the bottle. He motioned for her to keep the rest. Jean smiled and continued to enjoy his drink. He didn't feel like fighting tonight. He would just let poor Caine keep licking his wounds for the night.
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Post by Ayen Matthews on Sept 27, 2019 0:05:49 GMT
"His name is Charles Xavier. Older fellow. Knows a lot about mutants and supports their cause. Which is something we kind of need right now with all the anti-mutant paranoia creeping up on the news."
Ayen continued to drink his cold beer when a lady brought him expensive whiskey.
"I didn't order this."
"The nice man over there ordered it for the both of you," said the lady.
Ayen looked over to see the man she was referring to and then looked back at the drink.
"He ain't gay, is he?"
"Oh no. He said it was for being superb heroes to the city."
Ayen raised an eyebrow.
"Did he now?"
He didn't know if the free drink was a good thing, or a bad thing, but he didn't like the look of the guy who gave them the drink. |
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Post by Caine on Sept 27, 2019 0:46:40 GMT
"Finally, someone who's against the act. I think I'll pay this Xavier guy a visit." Before he could ask for the directions, the waitress arrived with the whiskey. Normally Caine wouldn't say no to a free drink, but the man who ordered it for them called them heroes. Come to think of it, Caine heard about something that happened in the plaza a few days ago, probably before the whole debacle at the bank. That would be a good reason why the guy in the lounge recognized Ayen, but Caine? His likeness wasn't shown on the news, they literally called him a John Doe. That guy shouldn't have been able to recognize him unless....
No way... No fu**ing way... Was Vilain following him? Was he there to mock him? To remind him that he messed up? He downed his glass in one go and shot a psychic message to his new frenemy, easily shattering through whatever mental barricade Vilain had forged.
Your time's coming, jackass... With that, he merely refilled his glass and resumed the conversation. Right now he had more important things to do, and if he went to confront him now, he'd probably get some kind of vague, ominous double talk."So where would I find Casa de Xavier?"
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Post by Ayen Matthews on Sept 27, 2019 16:11:28 GMT
"West and Maine on the border of Kansas City. Big old mansion with a sign that says 'Xavier's School for the Gifted.' Can't miss it. I can take you there if you'd prefer."
Ayen didn't forget about the guy watching them, but he didn't act on it now. If it was just a civilian wishing them well then he had no reason to fear, but if it was more than that then he'd have to be careful. Everyone knew who he was now thanks to Carari Grey's news station. That meant people who would be against him for what he was, too. |
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Post by Caine on Sept 27, 2019 17:12:39 GMT
"That would actually be great if you don't mind. I don't have a car and I HATE trying to flag down taxis, especially if the ones here are anything like the ones in New York." Plus with Vilain here, it might have been a good idea to make a quick escape. If he was planning something, Caine didn't want things to end up like they did at the bank.
Before Caine got up, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey, intent on not letting it go to waste, but not before doing a bit of kindness for his new acquaintance. "Refill before we head out?.... Never mind, bad idea, you're gonna be driving." With that he refilled his own glass, downing it again in almost no time flat. He repeated this until he was about halfway through with the bottle, now with a sufficient buzz to face the day ahead of him. "Whoo! That's much better!"
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Post by Jean Vilain on Sept 27, 2019 17:37:29 GMT
Jean took his Davidoff cigarettes out and lit one. He took in a drag and took in the savoring smoke. As he blew out the smoke, he could hear the thoughts of Caine. He could feel the anger emanating from him. It was no wonder he could get a thought through his scrambler. Jean turned off the scrambler to let Caine hear his thoughts.
"With that furious tenacity, I look forward to it. I'm so happy that you didn't inherit your mother's back bone."
Jean was only ever this brazen before about revealing himself to an enemy when they really entertained him. Perhaps it was just boredom. The thrill of knowing someone wanted to hunt him down was exhilarating. He couldn't wait for the excitement to continued.
"I must admit I didn't recognize you at first… my... how you've grown."
Jean opened his thoughts a little more to Caine. He wanted him to see a small glimpse into the past. If he came rushing to Jean for answers, all Caine would find is an empty seat.
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