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 Posted: Sun Jul 10, 2011 5:31 pm
╔══════════════╗
I N C O G N I T O
╚══════════════╝ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀
Incognito is a bar that caters to the masked percentage of the city’s population. With it’s mood lighting and fun anonymous atmosphere it’s the perfect hang out for anyone who still in costume but not looking to work. The owner is an Ex Hero; Use to be Mega Man now he just goes by Mark. The retired hero does most of his work in his office, leaving the hired neutral’s to keep an eye out for troublemakers. And there are NO troublemakers in his bar, none. A few people on staff have ability’s that help with crowd control. One bartender has the ability to literally freeze people in their place. She’s the one who normally steps in if things get out of hand. After all it’s a place where all are welcome, heroes and villains, they need to keep the cliental thinking they’re safe.
The bar is set up so that a percentage of the seating is against the bar that runs down the left wall of the building. All of the stools are wooden and backless, but tall and elegant in design. Each one is reinforced with steal to support even the biggest of customers. The bar counter its self is dark stained wood polished smooth and always kept immaculately clean. The cleanliness is due in part to the well-trained and friendly wait staff and in part by the busboy who has the fantastic ability to sanitize anything just by looking at it. He’s also got some weird voodoo going on with his mops.
The rest of the building in the rear is a lovely dance floor and table seating. The tables are all good sized, the same dark wood as the bar, and the chairs hold the same elegant style as the bar stools although the chairs have a back.
The bar serves a broad menu of local favorites as well as some more exotic but still very popular dishes. What they are known most for is their fabulous drinks, depending on who’s behind the counter you can get gravity defying liquid treats one night or deep freeze chemically improbable beverages the next. The big black chalkboard behind the counter lists the night’s specials as well as all of the more normal options that can be ordered on any given night.
They bouncer at the door is actually pretty interesting. He’s a mind reader of extreme talent; it’s how the bar can stay open. Because they want everyone who comes in to stay anonymous they don’t want to ask for I.D. but they also have to make sure they aren’t serving any one who’s under twenty one alcohol. So the man at the door asks for an age and looks into the masked super’s mind, he knows if they are lying or not and if they happen to be underage he gives them an X with a permanent marker on their right hand. So far the systems worked out great. But if anyone ever tried to cheat it there would be hell to pay.
-----------------------------Some things to keep in mind---------------------------------
1. This is Switzerland
The bar is a neutral zone. No fighting can occur within the bar beyond heated debate. It is clearly stated that anything beyond that will lead to expulsion, permanently. While I know this isn't realistic, this is for the purposes of role-play not realism in a comic book world. Everyone (Mostly Non-Player Characters in this case) in the club knows the rules and will turn on those that break the rules.
2. An Enormous Clock
This place is run by NPCs. Eventually, you might be allowed to garner the Megards to purchase the place for one of your characters, but until then, it is an autonomous location where the Players can walk up to the bar, order a drink and get a drink, all in the same post, without waiting for a Player bartender.
Anyone can make up NPCs to keep the roleplaying going. Only the "Crew-saders" (the moderators) and dragonhealer have the right to control the bouncers, though others can mention them for scenery's sake.
3. Sovereign Powers
Because of the last point, Bouncers are currently the only NPCs who are able to Godmod, if a Player gets out of hand. That does not mean that either we as Crew-saders or dragonhealer can manipulate this power, of course.
---
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Posted: Fri Jul 22, 2011 5:21 pm
 L I Z Z Y
-----~~~--------------------~-----~--
M O R P H Morph walked past the bouncer and into the bar. She was a regular, he knew her like the back of his hand and she didn't even need to speak a word his direction. All it took was a glance and he knew... Morph, back for another drink. The young professional sauntered up to the bar. she was wearing a new costume today, her old one was ruined after a run in her Captain Patriot. The god damned mutant threw her .... THREW her into a trash compactor. Yeah she was all right but her costume could only do so much before it tore. The new one was nice though, form fitting with a cute little red belt.
There was a man dressed entirely in red sitting at the bar alone and Morph recognized the icon on his chest, he was Title. The hero. Perfect. She stood beside him looking at the black board of drink options before turning to look at the man's face. He was drinking, nursing a gin and tonic. It looked like he had all ready had a few.
"I hate to drink alone."
Morph's voice was smooth and low. She sounded completely at ease, and she was. The man looked up to meet her eyes and smirked then said, 'let me buy you a drink.' the blue haired villain turned to the boy behind the counter who looked no older then nineteen and ordered herself a white russian. Te drink was in front of her in about twenty seconds and with that she turned to look at Title. She frowned and gave a little sigh.
"I want to drink alone."
The woman took her drink and moved down the bar to a section that had no one in it for at least six stools. She perched on one in the middle and sipped her drink, savoring the taste. It was good, very good and she glanced around the Bar for some one of interest but no one really come to mind right off the bat.
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Currently Cuprous Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Jul 22, 2011 7:00 pm
"Samson":
Samson downed the last of his drink with a flourish, adding a soft, "Yee-haw," to it as he set the glass down on the table with a flourish. He was feeling better with his third drink. It was, of course, non-alcoholic. The first day he had arrived at the bar, he told them that he got intensely sick from spirits, and requested his drinks without the carbon-bound hydroxyl groups, and he would even pay full price.
Samson swaggered back over to the bar and placed his tall glass on the countertop. He spoke to the bartender, "Another one, if you w'uldn't mind, young'in'." His strong southern accent dominated his voice, and in the past it had made more than a few people cringe with it's strength.
And, of course, it had nothing to do with his costume. It started with long golden locks of hair, rolling down his shoulders and gracing some of his back. The hair came out of the top and bottom of what looked like a Greek war mask, with the top cut off, missing it's mane and top of the helmet to allow his golden hair to flow out. The body of his outfit was a full body of a down filled coat and pants. Over it was a one shoulder toga, made artfully was completely white fabric. His hands were covered with similarly white gloves, made for heavy work and textured for grip. His boots were black, or dark brown, adding two inches of height, and likely steel-toed.
The overall effect was odd. What looked like a mismatch of someone grabbing whatever they could to define a style for themselves. Anyone with an eye for fashion could see that this was, however, an outfit made with love. The helmet was made of real metal, just gold plated, and definitely custom. The hair was a wig, but with real human hair and glued on with someone who has had lots of experience. The toga was not just a bedcloth, but something tailored and carefully washed and cared for. The rest of the outfit was generic, meant to be easily replaced and anonymous, or not yet custom designed. All of the parts came from different sources, so as to be hard to trace.
The overall effect made him look a little short and fat, though there was no telling how much the down coat actually added on to his appearance.
Samson found himself standing next to a tall woman, lovely though strangely familiar. He stared at her long enough to feel like he was being rude. Before she felt awkward, he smiled, a flash of teeth in the small slit of a mask visible. He tipped an imaginary cowboy hat at her, and said, "Sorry, Miss. Ain't trying to invade your space or nothin'. Jus' here to enjoy the at-mos-phere." He said the word as if it were three words. "Don't got so many costumed types back home," he rambled on as if she cared. He had seen her here before, though he was no regular.
Of course, it his intention to come off as some redneck, a well practiced routine that generally made people underestimate him. It was something he had done for years. Only a few knew it was a ruse, and none but the old, old guard villains knew where he was really from. "Nor are so many as lovely as you. Why, I am sure this here boy here couldn't find a class for as tall a' drink as you are, Miss." Samson was so much more honest about things, Joseph had decided. It was refreshing to be able to just say some compliments or insults that came to mind. Most took anything in his strong accent as an insult regardless, though. Didn't matter. He was here for the atmosphere.
Now where was his drink? He was starting to feel like he was simply bothering this woman, rather than being a nuisance. + Toga + Mask/Crown
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Posted: Fri Jul 22, 2011 7:31 pm
L I Z Z Y
-----~~~--------------------~-----~--
M O R P H A man dressed in a mismatched costume that looked like it had been randomly pieced together from a ski supply, the set of 300, and an industrial forgery stared at her from only feet away before stepping up to the bar and smiling at her. Morph watched him a little confused and a lot put off. She had little sympathy for those who's costumes were in her option badly designed. But that wasn't what really got her... That voice! Ehhh. It was like he swallowed concentrated hillbilly then rode on down to Dixy to join the K.K.K. Southern accents were something she hated. It wouldn't be so bad if he hadn't been starring to begin with though. She listen to him talk then glared when he insulted her height. Yeah she was tall, what of it?! The woman took a big swig of her drink, then set it down on the counter and turned her body to face the man.
"Yeah What of it? You want to take this outside Hayseed? "
She stood up and as she did, her legs grew, giving her ten more inches on the man. She glared down at him from above and balled her right hand into a fist, cracking her knuckles with her left. She didn't appreciate someone like him insulting her. Today had been a rather bad day and she wasn't really excited about the start of tomorrow either.
"Because if you think you can ******** with me I sure as hell will not just put up with it."
The blue haired Villain shrunk down to be exactly his height in the blink of an eye and she got right up in his face. Not touching him but really coming close. He could smell the alcohol on her breath and see the spark in her eye. Morph frowned and crossed her arms over chest. She was pissed because he boss was being an a**, She skinned her knees a few days back and they still hurt, and she had failed to get into the Lair. Plus the guy who she was hoping would call her never did. It was just a bad week all together. And NOW some Southern a** hole was calling her out for being tall.
"I've had enough s**t today, thanks."
Morph sat back down on her bar stool and picked up her drink finishing it and looked at the glass full now only with ice cubes. She needed another drink. The Super bit her red bottom lip and let out a deep breath turning back to the short fat man. She gesture for him to sit down on the stool beside her and blinked, waiting to see if he would.
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Currently Cuprous Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Jul 22, 2011 8:17 pm
"Samson":
Samson rolled back onto his heels in at her harsh reaction his worlds. Clearly she had completely misunderstood his words, and for that his smile dimmed quite a bit, and his lips showed a tight line of annoyance. He liked annoying people with Samson, but only when they understood his conversation, just disliked his manner.
"Miss, let me start by apologizing. I was mixing my co-lloq-uialisms. I was just trying to say you are as refreshin' as a tall glass of water on a hot day. I had meant nothin' bad about you personally." He bowed, the hair cascading over the front of his shoulders. When he stood up straight again, he spoke clearly, in a familiar phrase, "With that kind o' reaction, I best not quit my day job t' become a stand-up comedian." He was grinning, but he really did sound regretful.
When he received his drink, he motioned to the bartender, "Another drink for the little lady on my tab. Make it two, if she decides to keep going. I owe her some amends." He hated funding alchohol abuse, but it was more in character than to suggest something safer. Part of the reason he liked this place and disliked most other bars. At this bar, most people were a little more on guard, and didn't drink as much as they might. It could be hell to pay if you were doing shots and your mask slipped and you handed over a card for all to see with your identity on it. So usually no one binge drinks here.
He tipped the imaginary cowboy hat at her again and took his luminously blue drink in hand. "Sorry again for the bother, miss. If'n ya wanna take it out of my hide personally, later today or another night, just ask 'round for Samson."
Why was she so familiar? Her voice. He had heard it somewhere. He normally didn't try to identify people, but hers was hauntingly familiar. He took a sip of his drink and turned to move on, hoping he had at least appeased her sense of outrage. ----- OoC: Mind if we make this a couple days after the park? In this scene Joseph/Samson are clean shaven, and it might make her outrage about not being called a little more personal. + Toga + Mask/Crown
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Posted: Fri Jul 22, 2011 8:38 pm
L I Z Z Y
-----~~~--------------------~-----~--
M O R P H Morph sighed when the man apologized and paid for her next drink. She really shouldn't have more then three it just wouldn't be a good idea. The blue haired young super rolled his eyes when he apologized again and started to walk away. If she freaked out on him for something that small she might as well let him drink with her.
"Where are you going exactly? Come, sit. Samson is it? Never heard of you. I'm Morph. I didn't mean what I... Sorry. I've just been having a stressful week and I thought you were trying to piss me off. I probably sound crazy right? "
Morph grinned and took a sip of her second white russian. It was good. Made her loosen her tongue and let go of some of the pent up anger. She nodded toward the chair beside her again hoping he would join her.
"Come on, join me? I really do hate to drink alone. And I need some one to talk to."
The villain reached up to smooth her blue hair away from her eyes. It was loose around her shoulders and curly as hell. It's how she liked to wear it when she was in costume. Loose.
{cool, cool}
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Currently Cuprous Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Jul 22, 2011 9:42 pm
"Samson": Samson had looked away, and then the color drained from his face. He knew where he had seen that blue hair. What are the chances... Was this...
He turned back to face her, saying, "Liz-" He gritted his teeth which could have looked like a grin, finishing with his accent back, "Listen, don't go feeling obligated to tolerate me just for the drink. We are all jus' here to enjoy the an-non-nim-imty of masks." He was struggling to keep his composure and his accent. Finally he just mentally told himself that this couldn't possibly be Lizzy. The chances were slim, too slim. There was no way a hero would go galavanting about with blue hair both incognito and in real life. The chances were astronomical, and bad form. Then again, not everyone thought about their costume as much as him. No. He refused to believe it. He didn't seek out other people's identities. It was a personal code.
She just wanted an ear for her trouble. He could do that. Even if she-. Whatever the reason, Samson could do that at least. "Sure, sure. I am jus' gonna be sittin' and a'watchin' people anyway." He hopped onto the stool, placing his drink back on the counter after another sip. "An' it's no big deal. I don' do many big crimes. Transportation o' goods, information retrieval. Don' like the spotlight. When ya's as bigger tha' life as I, seekin' the spotlight can dangerous and thas a hero's job." That was about as close as he would get to saying that this was just a ruse.
He shook his head, "But enough abou' me. Hate to hear a young lady havin' trouble. I can be an ear for ya'. Lay it on me." He took a drink and watched her, his brown eyes interested through the visor covering most of his face. He hadn't forgotten his former thoughts on her identity, but he pushed them aside. + Toga + Mask/Crown
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Posted: Fri Jul 22, 2011 10:10 pm
L I Z Z Y
-----~~~--------------------~-----~--
M O R P H Morph nodded listen to the man talk. So he was small time? Like her, except she was starting to make it bigger. The blue haired villain took a sip of her drink then started to talk.
"Well, I've been doing small time stuff for years, mostly for my boss. We were suppose to be business partners but he treats me like a god damned Henchman. I hate that man really... But the job pays to much for me to quite before I make a name for myself. Ever heard of Worcester? You probably have he's a big name. I work for him. Worcester and Morph the baddest team in the city... Except when he let's his guard down and I have to step in and end up getting thrown into a god damned garbage compactor... Captain Patriot is a b***h. I can't believe he even... Man, That completely ruined my costume. "
She shook her head and took a sip of her drink, glancing around the room to make sure he wasn't there to over hear her bad mouthing him. If Worcester or the Captain heard her she would either die or get her a** beat.
"This is all after some guy I met who I really took a liking to totally stood me up. So I've been waiting for him to call and it's been a few days so it's pretty much a guarantee that he has forgotten me. I told him to call me, even gave him my card and he never did the b*****d."
Morph finished her second drink and gestured for the Bar tender to get her another. It was her third and so it was her last for the night. If she wanted to drink more she would have to go home to do so.... Well maybe she could handle one more after this... It all depended on how she felt. The young woman looked down at her drink and let out a deep breath.
"What should I really expect though? Meeting anyone in this city? It's full of fakes and creeps and People who are so full of themselves they think they can save the whole damned world. He was probably a ******** cape or something. "
The woman put a hand up to check that her mask was still glues to her face firmly. She could feel her eyes welling up with tears but she refused to cry... It would be shameful to do so... But she was just so frustrated.
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Currently Cuprous Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Jul 22, 2011 11:50 pm
"Samson": This first bit, that he could understand. He nodded understandingly, saying, "Yeah, tha's the problem with lots of Duos. One of em gets an ego, and the other takes the lumps. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn'. Look at the White Knight an' Black Rook. Coupla' heroes. One with flight, the other who could do short teleportation. Hellovateam. 'Course, there were all these rumors, tha' the Knight, a guy, was teleportin places he shouldn' be. But he was white, an' a guy. Black Rook, she was African, and back in th' fifties. Then she was flyin' this kid from a burning buildin' and she get shot by some d**k who thinks she is kidnappin' the kid. She falls onto private property, and they don' like blacks. She gets arrested, loses secret identity, and White Knight gets no trouble, even next week, when they caugh' him Teleporting in a bank vault."
He shook his head, "Duos, mos'ly one is the face and other the fall guy, or girl in this case. Yours and hers." It was an interesting historical case. The pair was one of the first "Super hero teams" that had their falling out. The Black Rook got revenge later in a book titled, "The Horse who Rode the Bird."
He shook his head. "Now, talkin' guys..." He knew who she was. Dear god. Twice in three days? What are the damned chances? He'd run his hands through his hair, but the wig has popped off when he did it in the past. This would not be a good time for that. So... what should Samson... what should Joseph say? Well, what he would say if he were talking about any other guy?
Drawling, Samson finished, "Guys, they's all assholes. Its in our nature. Some better than others. But we all come from the same stock. Worsen' any donkey." He shook his head. "This here kid, Might'n he forgot to call. Doubt he forgot'cha. Like I said er'lier. Yer' a pretty girl. Maybe he was intimidated or somthin'. I ain't defendin' the donkey. He damn well shoulda known better than to keep a woman waitin'. Problem with men these days. No gentlemen left. An' thas the only thing we go balancin' out our faults."
He shook his head, continuing to enjoy his mix of blue Powerthirst and some luminous alchemical thing. He wasn't lying with his words, just the his perspective. The mask helped. It was hard to see his expression between metal the protected it. He was talking more to his drink than anything, which made it easier. Facing her would be too much.
The truth was he had been frightened. Everyone had their demons. She did. He did. When the only person he had ever trusted before also was a murderer and taught him morality is for the weak and that the only society worth living in is one that could support real masterminds to teach people that life was short cruel and fickle. Joseph finished his drink after a long silence. He wished it was alchoholic He wasn't even using his accent at first "Sorry. For all the guys who never call. We all got stuffs to deal wit', but that ain'r right. I totally understand why ya might be upset, Miss. Both super and mundane troubles. Gettin' hit from all sides. Feel for ya." He shrugged, patting her softly on the shoulder. + Toga + Mask/Crown
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Posted: Sat Jul 23, 2011 12:35 pm
L I Z Z Y
-----~~~--------------------~-----~--
M O R P H The story was one she hard heard before, but never really thought about. It still didn't make her feel any better about her situation though. Morph was stuck and she felt trapped... What she needed to do was just end it with the man and start out on her own. Do some solo work. But she didn't have the balls to end it.
Samson started talking about guys and she shrugged when he tried to make an excuse for the guy... He was intimidated? Please. When she was a civilian she was harmless. She was an door mouse. The guy had totally just forgotten about her. Even after he said he would call! The masked man sitting beside her put a hand on her shoulder and Morph turned to put her head on his. She put a hand on his chest and the other around his arm Sniffling into his down coat.
"Sorry. I'm never like this. Really. I-I Just have had a shitty week and... I need this."
She hugged the man, bringing her arm down to wrap around his torso. Her wavering voice gave away her almost crying and her rail thin body shook every so often with a ob she was suppressing. Drunk and upset she relied on the man's kindness to an extent that was probably not very safe.
"You don't have to use that accent. It's hard to understand you when you do... Not that I'm in charge of your voice. But... You sound nice with out it. "
He really did sound sweet when he dropped the southern accent. Almost familiar but she never liked to try and recognize people here so she immediately dropped it. Knowing some one's secret identity was almost as dangerous and having someone else know yours. A lot of folks would kill you on the spot, even some heroes. Well especially heroes if you were villain.
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Currently Cuprous Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Jul 23, 2011 11:56 pm
"Samson": Samson tensed for a moment when she put her head on his shoulder and began to sob softly. He relaxed. She was just drunk and depressed. He knew how to deal with that, all too well. She was now entering an emotional state that he was supremely familiar with. Knowing she couldn't see his own eyes that would betray a swath of emotions all at once, he didn't try to hide it, slipping into the role of supporter. He patted her hand with his own, using the arm pinned beneath her, though making no comment.
"Naw, darlin'. Don't worry nothin' 'bout it. I am more'n happy to help be here. Better 'n someone who might take advantage." Not to mention it was his fault in the first place, but that wasn't anything new to him. It was easier to take it from a stranger, anyway.
He looked to the bartender and mouth something to the boy. He had no trouble supporting Lizzy's weight, having' had to just brace his opposite arm against the bar a little closer. He continued, this time with more light seriousness than he had before.
"We all wear our masks 'n this bis-ness. To keep up the mas-quer-ade and protect ourselves. If'n I dropped my accent, I might'n as well take off this helm, or wear day clothes. Just like'n you do. I doubt you flash that dazzlin' blue hair all day. What'n if someone saw you from behind, an' thought it was your real identity, then saw ya' with a mask if'n you turned around?" It was a subtle offer of advice. It might not be well recieved in her state of mind, but he couldn't let it slip. If she hadn't had that same hair as before, he might never have made the connection between Morph and Lizzy. He didn't realize how close his starting phrase echoed before what he had said in the park, of course.
The bartender came over and set two drinks before the pair of them, simple glasses of water with ice and straws. Samson nodded his thanks.
"When you are feelin' better, drink some o' this water. It'll help ya some. Alcohol, in my experience, don't do nothing but make troubles bigger an' worse. An' to be honest, there be more than enough predators 'round these parts, hero or villain. Don't do any good to walk out'a here in-eb-ri-ated." + Toga + Mask/Crown
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Posted: Sun Jul 24, 2011 9:06 am
L I Z Z Y
-----~~~--------------------~-----~--
M O R P H Morph listened to the man talk, she stopped crying and forced her self up let him go The man probably was frightened of her emotional baggage anyway. She took a napkin from a pile on the bar and dabbed at her eyes and around her mask, making sure it didn't come loose. Once done she looked a little better, but her cheeks were pink and her eyes a little bit blood shot. The water that was placed in front of her looked about as appealing as a grande in a fox hole... But she appreciated the gesture and picked up the glass taking a little sip. The man said something about masks and she couldn't help but recall having a conversation like it with Jeff... We all wear masks. And with out his southern accent he had a bit of an eastern European thing going on... Plus he seemed to hit that he didn't think she should wear her hair natural while in costume... Like he knew she did. ... He was short and fat... HOLY---
Morph closed her eyes then opened then to take a second look.... This SUCKED! The whole point of pouring your heart out to a stranger was that you probably would never see them again! And they didn't have any background with you so they wouldn't care about most of it.... The girl was ready to pull Samson's head from his body but she took another dink of her water instead... She glanced at the clock and gasped looking at the door next.
"You're to kind Samson. Um, do you think you could walk me to my bike? It's right out back, but I had to lock it to a sign post and it's not really near a light... People get assaulted all the time on this side of town and I just don't want anything to happen. "
She got up and took another sip of the water before heading out the back door. The ally behind the bar was empty of all life. It was lit only by a single blub light that was bolted over the door and was really once of the least appealing places to have a conversation in the city. Morph stood holding the door want waiting for the blond haired villain to come and walk her to her bike.
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Currently Cuprous Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Jul 24, 2011 11:10 am
"Samson": Samson drank some of his own water, which was filtered and clean and boring. But it was good for helping people sober up. He drank his while she spoke and nodded. "Sure thing, pretty lady. I whole-hearted-ly agree. I was going to volunteer if you didn' ask." He was thankful that she was going to head out. He didn't want to see her hurt and she probably needed some sleep if she got beaten earlier that day and.
Pulling out his Samson wallet with his white gloved hand, an utterly mundane money clip with cash and no identification or plastic. He placed something like thirty dollars on the bartop, motioning towards the busy bartender so he'd spot it, and hopped down from the stool. It was fortunate that this was not his working outfit, filled with metal shavings to give himself weight. It would have made a racket moving through the crowd.
He tried to beat her to the door, but she outmanuvered him and opened the door for him. "Thank ye' kindly," he said. Once outside, he stepped into the alley, giving her space but offering to walk along side her. This was so that he could, ostensibly, protect her, but he would be lying if he wasn't concerned she might fall over. He didn't know how drunk she was, so it paid to be safe.
"Lead on, Miss Morph," he roughly paraphrased, offering his arm to motion her forward. He could walk her to her bike and go home himself. Then he'd go to sleep, work for the day, mentally fighting whether or not he should call Lizzy, like he had the last couple of days, then finally do it, not wanting to incite another bad day for the girl.
+ Toga + Mask/Crown
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Posted: Sun Jul 24, 2011 7:45 pm
L I Z Z Y
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M O R P H Morph Let the door close on it's own and once she heard it lock she took a quick step forward, standing right in front of Samson, blocking his way would of the dimly lit ally. Her eyes practically glowed with anger. She bit her bottom lip and balled her orange gloved hands into two fists at her sides.
"What the hell were you thinking?! "
She reached out to grab the collar of the man's costume and pulled him close so that she was glaring down at him with the intensity of a thousands hot summer suns. Her grip of the fabric was rock sold and if she had been stronger she would have listed up up off the ground... but he was kind of heavy and she didn't think she could.
"How cold you let me do that you... you... you ******** a** Hat!"
She slapped him across the face, her hand mostly just catching the metal mask he wore and she grasped, releasing him to hold her down hurting left hand. She looked down at it to see that it had a little gash but nothing to bad. But it hur-r-r-t. She drew a fist back and tried to hit him in the chest.
"You could have just walked away! Oh mu GOD! And then I cried! You let me cry in front of you b*****d! And why the hell didn't you call me! You said you would! I never give out my number and the one time it do... the guy isn't even interested... What should I expect from such a cockroach of a human being. I only like the s**t heads of the human race apparently. "
Tears started to form in her eyes and she threw another punch before stumbling back and feeling something sold, the wall hit her back. She slid down, finally sitting on the ground and putting her head in her hands.
"I can't believe I let you do that to me! and then you have the balls to approach me here! HERE! You didn't even look like a super back at the park Jeff. How was I suppose to know! You probably don't even have a power, you're one of those tech wizards or something aren't you. ******** creep. "
She brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them close, resting her forehead on them as well. Her hair covered her face and she took a shaky breath before looking up at making eye contact with the man in the mask.
"Tell me... Did you even think about calling or did you throw out my card the second I was out of sight?"
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Currently Cuprous Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Jul 24, 2011 8:46 pm
"Mister Cold":
So surprised at her words and action, her hands gripped his collar with relative ease and he allowed himself to be pulled forward. She began to confront him, and he wondered, bewilderedly why. He hadn't done anything as he passed her in the doorway. He hadn't even been rude to her in the bar. No, this was just another symptom of her drunkenness no doubt. She thought he was someone else, or didn't know who he was at all. He hadn't thought she was that drunk, but Samson had to deal with it for much of his childhood. She was lashing out at anyone, not him. She needed to let off some steam.
So he let her hit him, knowing it would do no good to stop her from unleashing her rage. He would just wait for her to collapse. Until then, he would figure out what he would do with her in the aftermath. Were there any motels nearby? Where were they at? He could pay for one night for her, so she could sleep this all off. The punches were drunken and half-hearted; he could stand them. She slid down the wall, and he watched her, pityingly.
That was when she said his name. When she said Jeff, it was like she destroyed some containment cell and a icy frost swept through him. Still in a down coat in the middle of the summer, he should have been faint from the heat. Now, though, a crystal ice flowed in his veins. The gaze that had been focused on her now turned to gaze down both streets of the alley, then up, looking for lurking heroes or villains who might have overheard. They were too close to the bar for this. Too close for comfort. He had to make his point quick.
By the time she looked back up into his eyes, they were filled with the cold emotionless stare, as he crouched down to be at her level. He could have stood over her to do this, but he preferred to make this very, very personal.
His words came out as a hiss, quiet and clear and very, very even. There was still that light accent of Eastern Europe in his voice, but it was not the most important fact right now. "Listen to me very closely, Morph. There are three people who are standing before you. One of them is a mild mannered history buff, afraid to make social connections that might have to be severed at any time. One of them is a genial southerner, come to the big city to find his fortune in crime. The third person-" his mouth had been scowl up to this point, where it turned into a serene and toothy smile, "- is a coldblooded killer with anger issues, who has spent years crafting the other two people to remain safe in a hostile world."
He tilted his head to the left, creating a series of cracking noises. He tilted his head to the right, replicating it to a lesser degree. "Two of these people are willing to make allowances for your sudden insight into my personality. The third has a stipulation." The smile was gone again. "I will let you go. As long as you never, ever utter the idea in public that Samson or-" he scoffs, "Jeff have any sort of connection again, I will let you go."
He took a moment to let that sink in, before saying. "Now, if the adrenaline hasn't made you sober yet, let me tell you a little history. I gathered it is not your best subject. Samson derives from the Hebrew for Shimshon." Samson glanced down at his gloves, idly opening and closing his fists in private fascination. "He was an incredible fighter, granted superhuman strength by the Almighty God himself. He was said to have slayed an entire army with just the jawbone of a donkey." He looked up to Morph again. "But I digress. Do you think that we can come to an agreement, Morph?"
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