Choleric Tempers

September 15, 2016:

Apocalypse, SHOC's, and tempting fate while planning a future. A maybe future.

Lot 80 - New York City

Brooklyn waterfront Lot 80 sits between Gowanus Industrial Park and the
Gowanus Canal (across that watery divide is a Roxxon Oil storage facility).

On the corner of Halleck Street marking entry to Lot 80 is Gabby's Gas N'
Grub beyond the convenient store and gas station looms a disused and
abandoned tower from America's gentrified industrial era. A daunting
monument known as the Elevator.

This monolithic dinosaur stands above the burrough of Red Hook, a place that
in the 90s was declared one of the worst neighborhoods in the United States
and even infamously for a while the crack capital of America. Things have
changed since those times but not by much.

Ownership of the Elevator and it's immediate grounds has changed hands from
the Port Authority, to a wealthy "Toxic Sludge Baron" to a new mysterious
owner. In that span of ownership swaps it's layout has changed very little.

A cement barricade now surrounds most of the peninsula at the mouth of the
Gowanus Canal that the Elevator sits upon. Any access to the actual Elevator
itself requires bypassing that, coming in through Gowanus Bay or the strip
of gated road behind Gabby's Gas n' Grub. A convenient store and gas station
that sprung up in recent months.

The Gas n' Grub sits like a bright distracting sentinel before the abandoned
Elevator. Drawing eyes and attention from that graffiti covered sleeping
concrete, brick and steel giant of an age past. No trespassing signs are
located here and there diverting the many tourists and urban explorers who
used to freely visit the Elevator. A hobby the newest ownership of the
Brooklyn landmark apparently frowns upon.


NPCs: None.

Mentions: ripclaw


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

It has been a week or so since Nate came to the X-Force complex. The fight with the Horsemen gave him a nasty cocktail of nanite-simulated diseases that nothing could heal and only faded as the machines ran out of power. He has bounced back to good health quickly, and he flew all the way from Westchester to here despite the advice of the school nurse, Annie.

He talked with Rose a couple times, but didn't really tell her he was pretty sick. Just that he was at Xavier because of Apocalypse, planning and preparing. Now he is back, though, and Rose might notice he has lost some pounds and seems tired. The base systems do warn he has entered the complex, and identify him. But he also called her ahead to tell the young woman he would drop by in the morning.

Rose did not need to be told, she knew. If he was not coming back quickly it was enough of a sign. Despite their history they still give the common curteousy of not wanting to worry eachother. Stupid really - but most everyone does it to those they care for.

…and it always leads to chiding or round-about jabs.

"Ya know, next time I want to go after a big-baddie by my onesie, I don't want to hear a thing. Not. One. Bitch." Rose states from her perch on the couch, booted feet kicked up, left agape at the ankles where the tanker boots straps dangle freely from not being belted into place quite yet. Leather pants cling from beneath the open maws, riding to low on waist, belted in place around hips with criss crossing stud laden leather as well.

Abdomen is bare showing the piercings that resided within hips, a small black halter top strips around her chest to encircle the back and hold up by tension alone, but beside her the leather jacket laden in reinforcement and bearing a 'punky edge' waits. Apparently she was going to be going somewhere.

A flash of eye from beneath the fall of white hair towards him and a corner of lips rises. "You need a burger or five. My treat."

Nate halts by the staircase, giving Rose a thoughtful look. "Would you believe it was an accident?" He says, smirking faintly. Because getting in a fight with evil-Rogue and evil-Beast was kind of an accident. Mostly!

He jumps to the floor and walks closer to the white-haired girl. "I'm hungry," he admits. "But I wanted to check with Corben about… hmmm, something that Beast did. Rogue and him have been turned by Apocalypse, and their powers jacked-up. Did you see that ultimatum he gave to the human nations? That is going to be great ammo for the anti-mutant gangs."

"I saw." Rose's words seem flat with just those two syllables. "There's been a lot of that, it's pretty much all over the channels, broadcasts, and net. Even my channels are laden with…jobs for one side or the other."

One foot drops from the table and a rock forward has her leaning forward to speculatively watch him with that mismatched gaze. "We don't just stumble on trouble by accident…Mostly."

"If your opponent is of choleric temper, irritate him." Sometimes the Art of War is just that, an artform and the simple quote brings a smile to Rose's lips, although foreboding.

"We have thousands of battles ahead of us, don't wear yourself down for just one." A worried look then comes, as this Apocalypse hits too close to home for Nate.

"There is no other battle as important for me as this one," confirms Nate, reaching the girl and wrapping an arm around her waist. "And maybe for no one else. If Apocalypse sets off his campaign, his 'cullings' as he called them, millions will die in a few hours. Or even more, if he has nukes already." He pauses for a few seconds, then shakes his head. "You said burgers, lead on."

"I know. But this one… Is far more dangerous to your health." The twine of arm around her brings Rose to a stand, leaning into him and jabbing a finger into his ribs for emphasis.

Then that hand rises and a lock of that platinum hair is shoved behind her ear while the rest of those razored edges fall forward in its place. "We need to take the burgers to go." Stated as she smirks at Nate, but even that smirk bore dangerous play in the depths. Up to something, as usual.

Nate gahs at the jabbing. "I'm fine," he protests. Unless she means his mental health, in which case Rose is probably right. "We need to take the burgers? Oh well," he is dangerous in the kitchen, but maybe this time he will manage to cook without burning anything. Sometimes he does. "What you are wearing is not suitable for the kitchen. Not that I am complaining."

"I have prices to compare. I want to start my marks and cover some of these scars." When Nate comments on her attire and cooking in it Rose pulls back, thumbs looping into the belt just beneath the bejeweled piercings that rest in the dips of hips.

"I'm running out of places for piercings that don't make them a liability." Afterall, during one of her first fights she ripped a mans out of his face. Brutal and effective. A small sway of hips in a dance as she takes back steps towards the former cafeteria, the buckles and belts cadencing her steps.

"You could erase most of those scars with a little surgery," mentions Nate. "Not that they have ever bothered you," or for that matter, that her piercings cover them. But (silent) thank you for the change of conversation subject. She always manages to find the most interesting matters. "Your birthday s in a month, hmm?"

"Okay, rephrase." Rose sighs, the motion of exasperation pushing hair from her face.

"I want them prettier." Turning to walk to the fridge now, she begins unloading meat, condiments, and sides. Pans and pots clatter and heat rises a bit as the stove is fired up.

"Every scar we earn is a trophy and memory. It is apparent many more are to come in the near future and I am allowed my small bit of vanity." Pausing at him reminding her of her birthday she stares at the meat and then him.

Birthdays used to not be a thing for her, at all. They came with things she would rather forget, although the past few years have made it easier. "You intend to stay alive for it?" Stated as she grabbed a ball of meat after washing her hands and began rather pointedly slapping it into a patty.
"Intend? You know I don't make plans so far in the future," replies Nate with a smirk. "But in the case we both are still alive and more or less in one piece, I could take you to Mutatoo a pay to put for something nice on your skin. Not a liability at all, hmm? You go into fights fully armored. Usually."

"Yeah?" A perk of brow as she finishes the patties, opens a beer and dumps it over the meat, into the pan and adds seasonings - garlic and onion predominationg the aroma of sautee'ing.

"If we were normal I'd say 'then stay in until then, so it happens'. But we aren't, are we?" In saying as much she pulls the slender smart phone from her back pocket and unlocks the screen to show coordinates on a map.

"An abandoned lot just outside of Rhode Island. Much like ours. Rumor has it there's been movement there." Dropping the phone a slide-show of distant surveillance images reels. SHOC's guarding a small caravan of expensive SUV's and a Cadillac, tinted windows and black. Armored. The images show the cluster pulling into the lot of warehouses and shipping yard only to disappear, leaving only the disturbance of gravel and concrete, but no sign of where they went.

Nate is trying to be helpful in the kitchen, seriously, but mostly stands on the way of Rose efficient cook-fu. His attention shifts when she shows him the images. "Ah, fuck them all. They had been too quiet lately. Have you shown this to Ripclaw?" And Cyberdata has picked a good moment to move, most heroic eyes will be on Apocalypse.

Flipping the burgers causes grease to spatter, and with an elegant and sudden dodge to the side, she avoids grease burns on skin. Hence the dangerous Nate meant?

"Haven't seen him, and I just found this while I was looking for news in the Underground that could help….Everything. Plus I'm starting to dig into my savings. No bueno." Burgers done she puts them on a plate and the garnish are laid out for picking.

"Most that know what is good for them are going to move now. They will sell to the highest bidder, buy for the highest price, and hit the weak spot for sure wins. Reputations and money to be made as well as ground to be gained where it couldn't before."

Plopping down next to Nate then, she begins the upload process from the phone to feed those tidbits to Chip's systems and into the database cpu her eye retains.

"So live until October 16th at least? I think we can manage." Sarcasm?

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