M-Town Prattle

July 21, 2015:

Jean asks Partisan to meet and two different perspectives are shared as well as a lesson in weaponry. (GUNS!)

LOCATION UNDISCLOSED

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

MUTANT TOWN, Two Days ago:

Gunfire rings out in the streets while Jean herself was on patrol, might as well be there, right? She was working in the clinic counseling previous Smooth addicts. They were fairing well, but afraid. She just calmed down a mutant who shot flesh eating spores onto people, thankfully his powers didn't manifest. He was careful, that. But it was the gunshots that had everyone riled up. A man in the middle of the street, dead. A meta-human that she had knew once, watched grow up, held the gun over the man and delivered the final blow. It was obviously a Purifier by the way he dressed, hunted down a night prior, tried to get away and wound up dead in the middle of the street.

"STACI! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" Jean cries out..

PRESENT DAY: LOCATION UNKNOWN

The blood still remained upon the floor where the trio had dragged Victor Creed before. Africa was just weeks ago and it still weighed heavily upon her soul. Warrior children in the front lines defending a mad man not by their own choice, but the truth of war was evident in their eyes. Just as she had seen in Staci's. Just as she had seen in the rest of the denizens who inhabited mutant town and called it their home. Jean had sent word out to Partisan as a means to meet. Coordinates and location given in a simple text. How she got Partisan's number is anyones guess.

And they would have guessed right.

A lone table and two chairs remain upon opposite side, and spread out upon the table is an array of armenants ranging from glocks to assault rifles. And this was in Staci's and her families cache alone. Her hands, gloved as they were, presses against the table, cane laid against it, shoulder worked out with a few rotations. The bruise upon her jaw was still being worked out, discolored just a touch. But even still, she was fine. Broken, but fine. And waiting.

She's on time, because she always is. The Partisan is never late, and well it's be terrible if she ruined that sterling reputation of hers. A well worn M-65 in tiger stripe bearing that distinctive tiger's skull over crossed rifles, circled with…french? Baggy cargo pants, combat boots, ballcap pulled low over her brow. A well worn AK held ever so casually in her hand, and yeah theres a gun on her hip and magazines and all sorts of things. "Hello Jean, Rough day at the office?" Part pauses, digging around in a jacket pocket for her smokes as she moves to take a seat.
From some random intern looking young woman, to looking utterly like the legendary resistance movement commander she was with just a change of wardrobe and a well worn AK which she lays gently across her lap. "You wanted to prattle, I'd tried to get ahold of you awhile back but we're both busy women I suppose."Puffing casually on that smoke as she surveys the weapons layed out across the table "oh one of the G-19s, so which young woman did you take this gear off of? They'll be needing replacements."

There wasn't a tired look or any sort of gaze of contemplation that Jean wears, her expression was heavy. It's not every day that she wakes up in the morning with the mean to confront to try to level with people who weren't the X-Men, she was the one who was laid back and listened. Who took advice and gave it. To get angry was not in her creed. Until now. But she wasn't angry at Partisan, no.

"Staci. Staci Bell." Is all Jean says for the moment, reaching for her cane to allow herself to stand upright. It was a rough day, terribly rough. The Purifiers were making heavy moves. But that was neither here nor there.

"And I'm going to have to ask you to not give that girl any more weapons. Nor anyone else who resides in Mutant Town." She presses the cane hard into the ground as the chair is pulled out, and slowly eased in with a slight wheeze of a grunt. Her ribs were almost done healing, clavical? Not so much.

"I don't know what the hell went down that day and I don't particularly want to know, but Lady Partisan, this has got to stop. Right here and now."

"Then you should be having this conversation with the Red boys and girls, the ones who told me that this was the best course of action. That they and the X-men couldn't defend M-town, and the only person who could was me."Part reclines, amiably. "I told them and I'll tell you, once this starts it can't stop until things are finished. If we snapped our fingers and made every gun in M-town vanish, the violence would get worse. These people have taken lives as a community, they've begun to recognize their own power."Part shrugs, ashing her cigarette aside. "They are sick and tired of being afraid, of hiding in their homes and praying the Purifiers won't kick down their doors and drag them screaming into the street."
Then a sigh, Part likes Jean it would seem. "Look, Jean. I'm going to be super blunt with you, because that's just my brand of honesty and I like you. So don't take this as anything but me telling you exactly what it looks like, alright?"She pauses, chaining up a second smoke. "You failed these people, as a community they have lived in first poverty, then political isolation, and finally abject fucking terror. This place wasn't a place for mutants to feel at home with one another, it was a prison they couldn't escape. Where the guards could do whatever the fuck they wanted, and the cops and the X-men and red all said things and did things but nothing ever changed. These people were hopeless, powerless, pissed off with no way to have any sort of say in their own future. They didn't need hope, they needed empowerment. They needed to stop living in abject fucking terror, and they needed to learn to rely on one another because let's be honest. Nobody can save these people, not me and not you and not the X-men. The only thing that can save M-town from the Purifiers and everything else, is M-town."

A fist raises and pounds hard into the table. Surely that wasn't enough to startle Partisan, of course it wasn't. She was just letting out her frustrations in the open the best way that she knows how. Her head lowers as she pinches the bridge of her nose, her shoulders raised up in a hunch, and she listened. She truly listeneed.

"Don't you think I know that?" She finally murmurs. "We sit back and we try to do things the best way, but everyone within that mansion, that street, the DCI and the Red have their own fucking agendas." She was trembling. Not only a few days ago she spoke with Professor X about the entire matter. Everyone had lost their way. Everyone. And she alone couldn't get them on track. She was at the end of her rope.

"If it's not mobs of people who are frightened of us, them. It's scores of people who want to tame us. And if it's not that, then people who wish to use us to make money off of us and like you.. make them into an army." She scoots the chair back, using the cane to stand with a grunt, keeping it close as she tries to walk everything off and to not offend. She was still Jean, even angered, still polite.

"First.. a virus that was developed and nearly deployed that took us to the Negative Zone. Then the virus that was the Smooth knocking off and killing every mutant, meta-human, and humans in the streets. And now this. The Purifiers. And they're big money now Partisan. Big money.. but.." She shakes her head at that.

"It's their souls. I know we failed at protecting most.. no all of them and the good ones, the really good and innocent ones? They're dead and gone. Possibly captured, experimented on.. turned. But they're gone. And We.. no. I'll carry that. Add it to the billion."

She paces just a touch, her features grave. "But Partisan.. you put guns in their hands and asking them to defend, you're erasing and remaking what they used to be into something brand new and terrible. Their souls are dirtying a moment at a time with the thought of taking someone elses life. Defense or not. And what's going to happen when they hold that power, that know how within their hands? Huh?"

"Are they going to be the next threat that we have to tear down because of that moment?"

"Jean, their souls? Girl you need some fucking perspective here, alright? I've watched men cut the breasts off of nursing mothers, so the mother has to watch their children starve. I've watched young boys, six and seven and eight be asked if they wanted short sleeves or long sleeves. They were asking if they would rather have their wrists or their elbows hacked off with a fucking machete. I've walked down streets full of the fresh dead, enough to clog the sewers and storm drains with gore and coagulated blood. I've stood over mass graves full of the old, the infirm, the very young. I've seen bodies thrown out into the woods like old garbage, thousands because they believed the wrong thing or they worshipped the wrong god or came from the wrong village. These people will slaughter you and sleep like children, because killing is -easy- Jean. It's fucking easy, and only rich white women from first world countries seem to be quite so caught up in the morality of self defense."
Low blow, ok maybe but Part's being honest here. "This is America, these people have a constitutional right to arms. The preamble to the declaration of independence says that all men are created equal, and they are endowed by their creator with certain inaliable rights. Amongst these rights are those such as Life, Liberty and the pursuit of happiness. The Second amendment of the constitution says that it is the right of the citizenry to own and take up arms, and that this right may not be infringed."Pausing for a drag of her cigarette. "Somone kills a person and you're ready to right them off as some sort of psychopathic murderer, so what the fuck am I to you eh? Now you're telling me I'm erasing what they were when I put guns in their hands, well you're right Jean. They were victims, and now they are citizens. You failed these people utterly and completely, so much so that I had to come in here."
"I'm no mutant Jean, I'm a fucking weretiger who came back from the dead to protect the people. Not society, not governments, not your sense of morality. I armed these people and told them that they fucking mattered, that I trusted them and I loved any of them who stood beside their brothers. I told them that nobody who didn't want to fight had to, I told them I'd die trying to do it alone happily if thats what they wanted of me. I gave them a choice, something you never did. You put these people in a little box, and now that they won't stay there they're morally bankrupt? Holy shit Jean, let me frame this for you in very uncertain language. -Your- people, are in the process of being ethnically clensed. You are at the receiving end of an effort to wipe your entire race off the surface of the earth, and you're worried about the potential morality of your own people standing up for themselves? Fuck that, I mean Jean I love you but sincerely fuck that. These are men and women and they are adults, and they have made a decision. The next threat you have to tear down?"Part chains up a third cigarette as she shifts her seat.
"The next threat who has to tear down, the next threat to whom? Threat to the X-men, sure maybe they might be if you guys keep going the way you are. You're going to tear down the people you are austensibly trying to protect, because they have self determination? They needed you, you failed them. They take up arms to handle the problem themselves, and now you're already thinking they could be your next threat? Jesus christ Jean, think about what you're saying and tell me that isn't some twisted shit you just said to me."

Jean listens, and she listens well. This was a debate, she wasn't going to mow over Partisan's words and interject with her own. "That's a fucking low blow Partisan." Yeah, and guess who's rubbing off on who? She etches her way to her seat again, falling into it no matter the pain, the cane tossed to the ground as she leans forward, swiping the guns a little to the side so that there's room for elbows and arms. "I know that killing is easy. A billion times over I know that it's so fucking easy to take a life and not even blink about it no matter the charge or who's put there." She presses a finger to her chest, she was responsible for all of them, after all. She knows the horrors, the terrors. She hears the cries almost every other night.

"This isn't about morality, Parti. This is about the future. And yes, I can admit and attest to the fact that we fucking failed them. Goddamn it we tried, but this cannot be the only answer. Not at all, I don't believe it nor I wish it so. But if this is what we're going to come to? What we're reduced to? I'll die again before I see it."

She leans back into the chair, her hand slowly lifting to try to feel and search out for the molecular properties of the cigarettes that Partisan carries, she wanted one. But she gives up.

"Give me one." It wasn't an order in her tone, just pure frustration. She's been struggling a lot with the decisions, the happenings.. that dark road that was often traveled, easier to travel, cause it was smoothly paved by the God that inhabited her in her yesteryears. And it was scratching at her own soul so hard..

"And take your words and apply it to your own, Partisan. I love you as well but goddamn it. Your shits just about as twisted as they come. And I will never toss you aside because you kill. Look where we are? Look at the company I keep. Look at the company you keep. And yes, I think of everyone as a fucking threat because this is what these latest events have drove me to. And I'm trying so hard not to. But please.. tell me there is another way to this. Cause it's going to end and it's going to end bloodier than it already has.."

Quietly Part slides those smokes across the table, with their "S.A.D" zippo lighter she's had since nam. "I told your people, that once this started it couldn't be stopped. I told them straight up that these people couldn't be controlled, because thats not how a resistance movement works. This isn't about getting these people from A to B, it's about giving them the means to decide for themselves. There was a time when this could have gone another way, but that time came and went before Red came to talk to me. What they need isn't hope, it's deliverance from fear. You want to help these people, then you fight and bleed and kill along side them. My words with these people have weight, because I bleed for them and I ask nothing of them in return."
Part puffs softly for a moment, before ashing that cigarette to the side. "Jean I wasn't born, I was made. I exist for this, it's why I was brought back from the dead. It's why I have no name beyond The Partisan, every time I have ever tried to do anything else but this with my life evil men have destroyed everything I held dear. There is nobody else who can do this, god I wish there was Jean. I had a husband, I had a life, I wanted kids and to grow old and die a grandmother. I am so -sick- of all of this, because I don't get a break. I have been fighting and bleeding and killing for more than a hundred years. I get no breaks, theres always somone who needs me and if I sit still they die. So yes It's about morality to me, if I did nothing what good is everything that's lead up to this? What good is all my failures, all my victories if when it really mattered to these people the Partisan sat it out? There is nobody else, I've made peace with the fact that there will probably never be anyone else. I don't enjoy this, I'm just the only one willing to get my hands dirty and do it. I'm the only one who can, and so I must."

Once the smokes were sat down, Jean reaches across the table to pick up the pack and zippo, fishing one out to press in between her lips, the zippo flicked and lit. She takes a deep inhale.. then begins to cough, patting her chest rather lightly as she twists and turns a little within her seat. This was certainly out of character for her, but meeting friends and shady places were as well. The cigarette was soon put out upon the table, slid back to her once again, her face red but still.. grave.

"You don't get it Partisan. I have bled. And I have died twice over for these people. For everyone. For this entire world." But, she wasn't going to get through to Partisan, they had their beliefs and they held it strongly. The only thing that really mattered was keeping those people safe. "But I can't kill for them. Not again.." She was nearly shivering..

"You've told me before.. your wishes, your hopes.. your dreams and how it was taken away." She leans back in the chair now, gone silent. The conversation, the convincing, the guns.. it was all lost to her. Just.. lost.

"So this is what we've come to. What we've all come to. Death and defense.." Her head shakes as her hand draws up to hide her eyes from view. It shouldn't have come to this; it shouldn't have gone this far.

"This is where we have always been, it was folly to think otherwise Jean. The only difference is that it's happening here, but it was always going to end like this I think. All that remains to be seen is how many, and how long. It is the way of things."Part, is well The partisan. What did you expect? "The X-men, do not work. At least not at this time, in this place. You wanna do good in the world, it's time to rethink things. It was a noble effort either way as far as I'm concerned, but you've failed to stave off the need for people like me."

"You know I can't believe that, Part." Jean murmurs quietly, her bottom lip curling into a frown. Her fingers rub hard along the reddish browline, her eyes blinking back tears as a slight sniff was had. "One of these days, you're going to truly understand the other foot." It was a little smile given, then.. and soon that hand drops to reveal reddened eyes, which soon lift towards the high ceiling of the warehouse.

"Then you give me this. Staci had a promising life. You allow me to take her and her family away from this mess.. and the others who do not have the heart to see the violence and bloodshed. "That's all I'm going to ask."

"I don't own this town, I don't rule these people. I couldn't make them do anything they didn't want to do even if I wanted to Jean. This is a resistance force, not an army."Part shrugs some and chains up another smoke. "I've already told all of them to leave if they want, or stay if they want. I made it fairly clear it was uncool for anyone to feel obligated to do anything they weren't comfortable with, if her family wants to bail they can absolutely do so with my blessing. She wants to cast off arms, then thats her call. Just as long as you play by the same rules and don't force anyone to do anything, I don't much care."Part rises with a sigh, picking up that glock and dropping the mag before racking the chamber empty. "Next time you want to play with guns though, why don't you come get a little training from me eh? We don't want there being any accidents, and there are alot've guns, explosives and ammo being pumped into M-town these days."

The dizziness had worn off by now, a slight grit to her teeth given as she gives a slow shake of her head. "Fine.." As Partisan rises, she remains seated, her eyes intent upon the gun as she watches Partisan handle it with a slight frown. It was her turn to stand then, reaching for the most easiest one, twisting it left and right.. even looking down the barrel as she cocks the hammer with her thumb. "I know how to use a gun.." She mutters quietly, almost as a jealous, petulant child would.

"I've asked Aspect to give me lessons in hand and fist." She states casually. "Perhaps you have moves as well for me to learn?" She pulls the gun away, lifting it in the air to take a very, very sloppy aim towards the wall. Sure, she may know how to pull the trigger, but she'd probably miss a Titan with that aim. "Guns a last resort?"

Partisan just deadpans "I'm a hundred twenty year old legendary asymetric warfare expert who wrote the book quite literally for the OCA, the DIA and SOG. So yes, yes I might potentially know a thing or two more than Jerry."Part calmly takes the gun from Jean, before setting it right back onto the table. "Learn every tool, so that even if you don't use it you will at least understand it. It's never my place to tell you whats right or wrong, only what is possible."Lifting that AK to gently rest the upper handguard against her shoulder. "I train with swords, that doesn't make me an expert but I do have a pretty good idea of what they're capable of as a result. You get the drift?"

Jean nearly rears back from that look; she couldn't take a deadpan even if it kicked her right in the ass. And it did, hence cane. "Ooh.. well.." She winces, a little look of hesitancy crossing her face as the gun was taken from her grasp and set aside.

"Very well. Guns and everything else you got in your arsenal.." This.. was going to be an interesting take for Jean Grey. "I assume you're going to show me how to dismantle them as well? But you should know, I only need shown once." Telepaths are cursed with Eidetic Memory, or at least she was.

Partisan raises a brow, before settling back down with a sigh. She just sort've, tosses that glock out've the way and sets the AK down on the table. "Avtomat kalashnikova, year of acceptance into the Soviet state arsenal nineteen fourty seven, otherwise known as the AK-47. Most people however, have no idea that they've never seen an AK-47. This in particular, is an Avtomat Kalashnikova, Technical Modernized or AKM."Part sets her AK on the table and gets to gently and precisely stripping it down. "It is the third most produced modern weapon in the world, this particular example of an M-92 from Zastava so it's Croatian. Most Aks are Chinese, due to their efforts to keep Africa destabilized for cheap natural resources."Off comes the top cover, out comes the recoil spring and out comes the bolt carrier. "The two primary calibers you find AKs in, is the 7.62x39mm and the 5.45x45mm. THe 5.45 is a more modernist take, and models designated AK-74 are chambered in this. AK-100 series guns come in many calibers, but they're not strong sellers so you hardly see them anywhere."

Jean… is always listening. But this? This was too much. A rare sight for anyone to see is the fact that Jean kind of.. spaces out. Her eyes were glazing over just a touch, but thankfully, that good ol' memory recall will allow her to replay and repeat the conversation which would be researched in her own time. After her emotional spiel and hard times were over.. of course. "Uh…"

Yeah, not much she could say to that. "I.. wasn't expecting a lesson -right- now.." She actually laughs, drawing the cane within her hands to stop around the table. This is what friendship is like. They both were on opposite sides yet on the same sides. They disagreed, heavily. But still Jean could smile and laugh, and even try to tuck Partisan into a hug, which obviously would hurt Jean more than it would hurt her.

Partisan doesnt mind a hug, but well Jean started this and she's gonna suffer. "The AK-47 can be differentiated from the AKM by it's milled receiver which produces a deep cut out above the magazine well, the bare muzzle and it's solid front sight post. These were heavier, and recalled from service after the first glimpse by the west of this new rifle in the Hungarian revolution. The AKM, comes in both S and more rarely U variants. S denoting a folding stock, and U denoting a shortened barrel. Though the soviet Union never produced any U variant of the AKM in the soviet union. They did however produce the AKMS-74U, which was first seen during the invasion of Kabul during the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan."
Part pauses only to light up another smoke as she continues breaking down that little AK of hers. "The AKM has a maximum effective range of aproximately two hundred meters, and at this range it is both very powerful and accurate despite popular misconceptions. The AK-74 is accurate to aproximately twice this distance, and is not inaccurate by any means. Terminal performance of the 7.62x39mm is notably greater with a higher probability of causing an immediately fatal injury. The 5.45 was so named the "poison bullet" due to it's proclivity to rapidly and energetically fragment along an unpredictable wound path. It also has a higher likelyhood of manifesting remote wounding of the target. The AK graces three national flags, and is currently produced in more than thirty countries and can be purchased for as low as six dollars in some parts of the world. It has an expected service life of aproximately ten thousand rounds, and many have exceeded this number many times over. Questions?"

The hug was given as Jean leans against the cane, watching and listening… she was definitely suffering, practically fidgeting.. thinking the pause was a permenant break in the weaponry lesson but.. she holds true. She was still going, almost to the point that Jean was going cross eyed, her hand reaching out to try to grip Partisan's shoulder for support even though she sports that bedazzeled cane. 5r
"Yes. A lot. But the very, and most important question. Where are you taking me to eat?" Cause.. food is always a welcome distraction, that is, if Partisan decides to continue to teach on their way there.

Partisan sighs "There's a decent pizza place in M-town, alright alright."The carbine goes back together in a hurry, before she takes it up oncemore. "You alright to walk, or do I need to get the walker for you dearie? Honestly leaning on a hundred twenty year old woman, youth today I swear."

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