Waiting(Open)

[Victor Creed]

Hm...he still was skeptical but he gave a slight shrug of his shoulders and pushed his hand from the wall to stand infront of her. Though he did ignore the little joke she tried to make. "Why do you want to meet more so badly? You're better off on your own. You dont have to worry about anyone but yourself. You can take care of yourself better that way." That was Creed's way of seeing it anyhow. The people he ended up hanging around usually ended up dead. Either by his own claws or someone else.

He looked at her for a long moment. Did he really want to mention Xavier's place? Did he want to possibly recruit an enemy? That would be silly. But she was practically a lost puppy the way she asked that question and looked at him. "But if you really want to find a group of them there's several 'teams' of mutants. Depends on the crowd you like to 'hang out' with I guess. Some are more...generous than others." Oh he was going to regret this later wasn't he? He barely even liked being a team player and now he was possibly getting a new member for someone. Damn kids...

New rule...if they aren't over 30 don't talk to them...

[syrita]

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I really dont' wanna bore you with my sob story, but I can't be alone. There's no point in existing if I am. I want something to fight for. Something worth living for. What's the point if I'm surrounded by people who hate me for who I really am but don't know that because they don't know me? Maybe in some ways I'm stupid, but I'm still young enough to have an excuse."

She arched a brow. "Teams?" She associated the word team with sports so she this confused her a bit.

His lingering was starting to have an impression on her. Her pulse started pounding faster, but she was sure he wouldn't be able to notice that. It wasn't a scared pulse increase, but her blood was starting to boil. If a bead of water were to touch her skin it would proably vanish in a puff of steam. She didn't know her powers well enoough but she was pretty sure she was so hot because she was trying to keep herself from doing what she wanted to. Fighting her nature, but her nature fought back, as it always did.

[Victor Creed]

"Yea...teams. You know. Good guys, bad guys. Cowboys and Indians." That reference might have hinted to his real age. Of course he looked like a guy already in his 40s, he at least had that devilish older good looks going for him, despite his real age.

Victor's arms crossed over his chest as he stood infront of her still while they lingered in that alley entrance. "Do you even know which side you want to be on Darlin'? Not an easy decision to make." He smirked to her again, curious to see how she would decide this. Or if she would even let him in on her decision making process. Either way he lived to watch people swirm...even if he wasn't inflicting any real pain. Just the fact that she had to pick some sort of side in the end. Or maybe she didnt. She could attempt to ride the zone of neutrality. That would work...not.

Creed's senses were keen, keen enough to notice the way her heart beat increased. He wondered why it did that but he was mostly assuming it had to do something with her powers. What was with the fire chicks lately? Were fire powers on sale somewhere?

[syrita]

Syrita had to raise a brow at the term 'cowboys and indians'. Was he Buffalo Bill or something? Having been paying close attention to the world lately she probably would have used the word Democrat or Republican, but everyone was different, which was actually a good thing in her eyes. She knew country and everything, but she would always be a rock and roll city girl. She would kill someone if she had to live on a farm or in the forest for some reason."Yee haw." she said with an incredible lack of zeal.

"Good guy or bad guy? It's all a matter of perspective. Although, a 'team' closest to wiping out a couple of senators and maybe even out amazing president sounds like the best bet." The way Syrita had referred to the president was dripping in sarcasm. Syrita may have known what was happening in the world but that didn't mean she liked it. Polititics made her insanely angry. Everyone backstabbing instead of just being straight forward. They were all just ugly old people fighting tooth and nail for more power. It was seldom that one actually cared about the world. It was disgusting.

[Victor Creed]

Victor started to chuckle before it turned into a bit of a laugh then died down again. "Where do you come from? Please tell me you aren't from around here?" Of course Victor wasn't really 'from around here' either. But he spent just as much time in New York as he did in Canada. "If you pay so close attention to politians I can't believe you haven't heard of Xavier and his band of mutants. Let alone the school."

He was pretty sure she wouldn't be interested in the school, or the politics Xavier believed in. Humans and mutants getting along, yea right.

"If you really want some revenge on some senators and presidents," that smirk appeared back on his face, "I'd say you'd want to look into the Brotherhood of Mutants. But then again I've heard that they've joined forces with Xavier lately. And then there's some sort of raging lunatic mutant doing something too." Well...Victor heard things but he didn't necessarily get all the information. And for Creed to say the guy was a raging lunatic...well that was saying something, not that Syrita would know anything about that. "So I guess your best bet is to go on alone Darlin'."

The girl seemed like she wasn't going to take being alone as an answer. So he took the moment she took to think about that to turn and walk away again. He had a bad feeling about this.... Was this going to be the start of his own 'merry band' of mutants?

"There's so many of us...there's so many others. Let's have a war..."

[syrita]

Syrita just shrugged and answered as if it were the most boring place on earth. "Hollywood." She told most people she was from Chicago so that it wouldn't be as easy to trace her back to home. It wasn't that she didn't like her home, she loved Los Angeles. Santa Monica Beach, the Getty Museum, and music leaking from every pore of the city. What was there to not love? She had run away because she knew how her family felt about mutants. They hated them. If they knew what she was she wouldn't have been surprised if her father had killed her himself. If she didn't kill him first.

She shrugged at the mention of the school. "I've heard of them, vaguely, but they seem far too....unrealistic for my taste. They don't seem to know the way people work. Since the dawn of time if anyone met anyone different from them that scared them or that they didn't understand, they'd kill them. It's still the way it is and now we're the different ones. It's kill or be killed at this point. If humans weren't so closed minded and power hungry then maybe it would be different, but you can't fight against nature. It'll just rip your ass clean off."

Syrita hadn't killed...at least she didn't think she did. She covered a man in third degree burns and for all she knew he could have died but she didn't care enough to find out. It served him right for trying to mug and rape her.

He walked away. Again. She glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "What exactly makes me so revolting that you won't even finish a conversation with me?"

[Victor Creed]

She was from Hollywood? That explained a lot, probably more than she thought it did too.

"You're young..." He called back to her before he stopped and turned around. "And naive...spunky...but naive." Of course he agreed with her little survival instinct rant. That was exactly how it was and humans just couldn't realize it, or at least adapt to that realization. Victor put his hands into the pockets of his coat. "You want to see the world? You want shoot first and ask questions later. Then fine. I have no problem with that. But at the rate you're going, you're going to get yourself killed. Especially if you keep drinking like that." He nodded in the direction of the bottle she carried.

Victor gave a slight sigh...he couldn't believe he was doing this. "So come on, if you want to finish a conversation lets do it inside somewhere. Do you at least have a decent roof over your head, Kid?" He waited for her to catch up to him. He had no idea why he was doing this. But something made him feel like if he let this girl wander off he'd just read about her death in the paper. Generally he wouldn't have cared...but there was just something about tough women that found his soft spot.

[syrita]

She would have gotten angry if she didn't know for a fact that he was right. She hadn't been in the world long enough to not be naive about it, but that didn't mean that she wasn't doing anything to improve it. "If you're implying that I have a drinking problem then you might be right, but I have my reasons for trying to drown myself in a bottle. And I actually think before I act...most of the time."

She tossed the bottle out from under her arm, caught it by the neck, and extended it to him. "Just because I like liqour that doesn't mean I'm addicted to it."

She couldn't tame the smirk that found its way onto her face and she rushed after him. When he inquired about her living arrangments she merely shrugged. "I don't need much. I have a bed and a bathroom. That's all I really need." That and her guitar, which was safely hidden under the floorboards. It wasn't anything special, just a classic acoustic covered in stickers from various bands and hot topic. Still, it was the only link to music she had until she could afford a new one.

[Victor Creed]

"Thats what they all say." Victor mentioned halfly before she caught up to him. "So other than not wanting to be alone....why did you come out here?" He was trying to understand this blonde. Sure she had an attitude that would keep her out of and get her in trouble... But what was her true motive?

He was surprised that she had what seemed like a decent enough place to live. He half expected her to tell him she lived in something that could be defined as a cardboard box. "Lead the way Darlin'." He urged her to take him to the apartment she refered to. Well she wanted to finish this 'conversation' and if it was that important..who was he to argue? Well he had a good reason to argue, but he also didn't really have anything else planned for his day. So what the hell?

Perhaps he would convince the girl into a little 'drinking contest' and see who would win. He knew who would win...and that was only half of the fun. At the rate things were going it seemed this evening was going to pan out as very interesting. Though other thoughts ran through his mind as well as he grew a little silent while listening to the girl talk.

[syrita]

She had to roll her eyes. "Well I"m not all of them."

Syrita paused at his question, rubbing her tongue over her front teeth. "My family is full of humans. Strongly conservative mutant hating motherfucking humans. It was either leave or be killed. I know my family well enough. My father beat a mutant with a baseball bat because he made eye contact with him. So I ran. Figured the best place to go where no one would know me is New York. Changed my name, got a new job. Proceeded to live alone. I figured I could make friends with others who were socially outcast for some reason or another. I thought Terrence would be accepting, being a closeted gay, but he proved that he's just as closed minded, scared, and pathetic as the rest of humanity is."

So they were going to her appartment. She linked her arm around his and pulled him the other direction. "We're going the wrong way."

It wasn't very long to her appartment. She rumaged through her purse before grinding her teeth. She had forgotten her keys. Again. Syrita rolled her eyes kicked the door open. She rolled her eyes as she walked in. "It's a good thing I have nothing worth stealing." She invited Victor in and shut the door behind him. The bottle that was under her arm got placed in the fridge with at least two dozen other nearly full bottles. The main room looked pretty empty. There were only three rooms. The kitchen, bathroom, and mainroom. Her bed was hidden in the wall, which she pulled out so that there would be somewhere for them to sit. "I don't really buy much food so if you look through the fridge you'll find vodka, tequila, Jack Daniels, Jager, and I think there's even a beer or two in there."

[Victor Creed]

"Yea a lot of people change when they find out that you're a mutant." He snarled slightly as he remembered the way his own family reacted. On one side Victor thought he at least deserved it a little bit. He did kill his brother over a piece of pie after all. Luther shouldn't have teased him with it. Then his father locked him up in the basement, and persisted to yank out his fangs everytime they grew back. And his mother? Didn't do anything to help him. It wasn't until he was able to chew his arm off that he was able to exact revenge upon them. That had been a good day.

Of course back then they also assumed that you were possessed by the devil when strange powers appeared. But now-a-days there were so many mutants you could throw a rock in a random direction and hit one.

He arched a brow as the girl wrapped her arm around his own and turned to lead them in the right direction.

Once they arrived at her apartment he was going to offer to pick the lock for her but she only ended up kicking the door down. Interesting way to unlock a door...to the place you live. Those wild amber eyes of his glanced around the small apartment. It wasn't much, but he never needed much either so the way everything laid out..including the wall bed, didn't bother him. He wandered around a little, taking in the sights and scents before he found himself infront of that fridge.

"And you expect me not to think that you have a problem, Kid?" Those words were said with a joking smirk while he pulled out a bottle of Jack. Not the best whiskey in the world but it'd do. He did notice that those bottles were mostly full, it seemed she just had fun collecting them more than anything...which was strange.

[syrita]

Syrita shrugged. "My parents never found out. I ran away before telling them. I've even looked it up and they're still looking for me. Probably think I'm a sweet little victim human girl. Little do they know, Emilee Jane Barker is as dead as a doornail. Totally lame name. Made me sound like a puritain girl in the Salem Witch Trials."

At the mention of her collection of booze, she couldn't help but smile. "In case you haven't noticed, most of the bottles are full." She slid past him to open one of the two cupboards, exposing more, unopened bottles. Among these were Lemoncello, Everclear, and other less common alcohols. "If I had a problem they'd most likely be gone."

She shut the cupboard and plopped down onto her bed before realizing...

"Oh shit, Jack!"

Before she could even give him the chance to be confused she was up again and prying up a loose floorboard to pull her guitar out. She hung it by its strap on a random nail upon the wall before taking a seat once more.

"So...you...what exactly can you do? It can't just be claws and fangs...can it? That sounds a bit boring."

[Victor Creed]

Boring? She called his 'powers' boring? That was rude. He couldn't help the slight snarl that came to his lips as she said that. It almost made him want to show off...but that would be childish. He grumbled slightly to himself as he opened the whiskey bottle and took a few gulps of the harsh liquid inside.

Then he finally answered her. "I can lift cars like they are soda cans. My senses are heightened to the point that I can hear your heart beating from here." He smirked a little to that last comment. "Not to mention I can smell you too, interesting scent by the way." He took another few swigs of that whiskey bottle before putting it down and wiping some of the liquid away from his mouth with his arm. "My teeth are razor sharp, and while my claws were just as sharp...I've managed to get them dipped in adamantium. A rare metal that can cut through anything like butter." While he explained the adamantium he idlely slid his claws around the neck of the bottle he was drinking from. within another moment he popped off that glass neck, still intact, from the base of the bottle and set it down for her to see. "And I have a healing factor that can heal any wound I sustain."

He looked over to her then, giving a slight leveled eye look. Who's boring now?

[syrita]

She didn't call his powers boring. She said that if it was just his claws then it would have boring, which it would have been. He however seemed to be making a point of showing that his powers weren't boring, and now that she knew she had to agree. That definately wasn't boring.

She blushed at the mention of him being able to hear her heartbeat. At least he didn't know why her heart started beating faster. He couldn't be a mind reader on top of all that. It seemed extremely unlikely anyway.

"Is that all?" she asked sarcastically. "Boring doesn't seem to fit it. So if you got shot in the face you'd just...heal up? That's actually pretty awesome. I wouldn't mind having that. I have a few nasty scars." She decided it would be best to keep out that at least half of her scars were from erotic ventures with previous 'lovers'. They weren't really in 'love'. Syrita didn't believe in love. It was a man made emotion used to make women feel entitled to jewelry and men entitled to buy it for them.

[Victor Creed]

"Yea but it'd still hurt like hell..." As much as Victor enjoyed testing his healing factor to the limits at times. Anything that injured his body still hurt as if it was a normal injury.

Victor took the moment to finish what was left of that whiskey bottle before him. Since he had cut the bottle it ended up cutting his lip a little. If Syrita noticed when he put the bottle down, the blood was left behind but the cut sealed itself shut.

"Well there's one less bottle for your collection." He smirked towards her but with the whole bottle he had just drank and the shots he had at her work, he didn't seem the slightest bit drunk. Not that she would really know how he acted when he was drunk. Hell, Victor didn't even know how he acted when he was drunk. That was a fortunate/unfortunate side effect of his healing factor. The healing factor worked on his bad habits too, his liver was just too effective. And it gave him more reasons to smoke too...his lungs would never go black or cancerous. It was a wonder too how old he would get before he would die of old age too...or if that was even possible. Must have been possible to some degree...after all he looked like a man in his late 30s to 40s now. It seemed no one could cheat death...

"Scars aren't all that bad." He couldn't help but to smirk as he remembered the scar he gave to a human to remember him by.