Odd Beginnings

December 07, 2016:

Nancy returns back to the Mansion with more of Bobby's things. She meets X-23.

Xavier's Mansion - Kitchen

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

The problem with having been away for so long is that when you get back, you discover a lot of stuff that you don't need. And if in that time one has deserted a live-in boyfriend, well a lot of that stuff might belong to him. Just two days after bringing one box of Bobby Drake's stuff to the mansion, Nancy is back with another box. She pulls up in her black and acid green Charger and grumbles about having to make another trip out here.

The box on one hip and a cup of coffee in the other, she makes her way to the door.


For Laura Kinney, just as recently returned to the Mansion, she's finding the opposite problem.

Her room is as it was, when she left. Sparse and uncluttered.

While that's a good thing, for Laura, the girl really needs to put her own personal touch upon her rooms. If only she could figure out just what type of personal style she has.

Either way, when the young woman finds her way down the stairs she pauses. Sensitive ears catch the sound of an unfamiliar car pulling up and that's enough to cause X-23 to turn; the vaguest of frowns flitting across her features. And just like that, the slim assassin's foot steps reverse, as X now moves towards the door.

It's when Nancy reaches for that doorknob that she'll find the door swinging neatly open. Behind the movement of the door (as well as the door) is one X-23, her expression quite flat, as she looks to see who's approaching.


Nancy figured someone would be up. In a house this big, with this many people, someone is always up. So, the dark-haired woman isn't really shocked that the door opens before she gets there. She isn't even shocked that it's not a face she recognizes. After all, she's been away for two years. Lots of people have come and gone. She takes a moment to assess the other woman, keeping her field close. It would be rude to let her null just hang out in the open, and while Nancy doesn't mind being rude, she knows that often Xavier's mutants have other abilities to bring to bear when she takes away their powers.
Sipping at her coffee, Nancy nods politely as she walks in the door. "Thanks. Another box of Bobby's stuff. In the kitchen again or… has he… gotten a room re-assigned?" Her bravado sort of wavers at the end, trying to pretend she doesn't care about her estranged ex.


When Nancy makes her way inside, X-23 will step aside, though there was a moment there when the shorter woman almost didn't move. Thankfully, a few social norms have made their way through the slim assassin's thick skull.

Once Nancy's through the door, X-23 will give the door a gentle shove, allowing it to slowly shut behind the two women.

Then, X, simply looks at Nancy, which allows the woman to offer that opening segment of hers. As Nancy speaks, X will scents the air between the two of them, as the dark-haired teenager looks for any emotional cues. Uncertainty. That's what she's picking up towards the end of Nancy's words and with a flick of her green eyes towards the box, X will finally manage a few words.

"I do not know Bobby." Her voice is quite flat, unemotional, much like her expression.


As if the basic height difference wasn't enough, Nancy loves her high heels. She pauses when there is that awkward moment just before Laura moves, that 'are we gonna collide here' moment. Once in the house, Nancy looks to the other woman and waits. She's used to being assessed for threat. All the mutants do it. It's almost a primal instinct. There is a brief urge to make her bubble bigger, to let this stranger feel her presence, but she was taught better then that. Besides, Xavier would have a tantrum, making that vein at his temple pulse. Amusing, but a pain in the arse.
The box has Bobby Drake's name written on the side and Nancy starts to head towards the kitchen. "I'll leave it here for storage then? With the other one?"


Drake.

Upon hearing that last name some of the tension eases from that slight and much shorter frame of X-23's. The taller woman before her goes from an unknown, possibly dangerous, to simply unknown, possibly friendly.

Either way, it's enough that Laura will allow Nancy to continue her way towards the kitchens and even move to follow after her.

The Mansion itself is only just start to rise and as such, the two will find themselves walking in fairly empty hallways. Only the occasional early riser can be found wandering sleepily down one hallway or another.

As for Nancy's previous two questions - whether she meant them rhetorical or not, Laura takes them quite serious, as she considers her answer. "I do not believe the kitchen is considered storage. I believe they use a portion of the attic as storage."

And again, all her words are delivered in that monotone voice of hers, her expression still devoid of most emotional cues.


The goth has to laugh at the mention of the attic. "Well, I ain't going up there in these boots. I doubt anal retentive Hank will let the box stay in the kitchen long. Plus, this gives him another reason to hate me!" That last part is said with perhaps a bit too much glee as she puts the cardboard box on the counter. This woman certainly knows the layout of the place well enough. She heads straight over to the coffee maker and starts to pour herself more coffee. "I'm Nancy, by the way. Deadzone." She watches the other woman, wanting to see if her name rings any bells. Pride and vanity, after all.


Yes, it's quite clear to Laura that Nancy seems to know the layout of the Mansion quite well. And while she'd like to consider that problem for a few minutes longer, her attention shifts, thanks to Nancy's laugh and her words about Hank hating her. Laura's head will cant slightly to the side even as her eyebrows furrow ever so lightly together, she speaks, "If you know it would bother Hank why do you leave it in the kitchen for him to find." And while her words continue to hold that rather dead tone, there is the slightest uptick to her voice, to denote what she just said as a question.

Verdant green eyes will track Nancy, as the taller woman moves to grab a mug of coffee, and when she offers that introduction there, Laura's expression doesn't shift; so, likely, she doesn't know the name 'Deadzone'. "Laura." The dark-haired woman says as she finally offers her own name in return.


Leaning on the counter behind her, Nancy sips at her coffee and then decides it needs more sweetening. She adds sugar, stirring, and then more sugar. She adds enough sugar that she needs to take a sip before she stirs or it will overflow. After stirring her coffee and tasting it for satisfactoriness, Nancy nods. Her pale grey eyes almost sparkle with mirth at the question about Hank. "Why do something just to annoy someone? Because it's fun? I like imagining him grumbling about how lazy and awful I am, him realizing I did this on purpose just to bother him, and then grumbling about that too." Yeah, Nancy's mean streak is showing.


Laura continues to watch Nancy and her overloading of her coffee with sugar. Unlike other people, Laura doesn't lean casually against the countertops, or even take a chair within the small kitchen.

She just stands there, her arms at her side, as she listens to what the other woman has to say.

The explanation of just why Nancy would set the boxes in the kitchen for Hank to find causes the shorter woman to frown ever so slightly (again). "I do not see how that is fun." Comes her hesitant words, her voice now holding just a hint of emotion to their even tones; the emotion that can be heard is simple confusion.


Nancy observes the other woman, arching a brow at her stiff body language and stiffer vocal tone. "I'm guessing that you were raised a little differently then most of us. From a different dimension?" She asks with both complete candor and non-chalance, as though not really caring if she is being rude or not and as if the thought of being a multi-dimensional being is nothing new to her.


While others might take offense at what Nancy asks, Laura doesn't. Instead she'll offer a singular nod of her head, "I was created in this world." Which might confirm to Nancy that Laura was definitely not raised in the typical fashion.

And with Nancy's question, Laura finally realizes that she's missing certain social contexts within this situation. It's enough to cause the young woman to really search her memories of her limited social experience for something adequate to say.

"You are a former student from here?" Laura will now ask, even as her gaze focuses upon Nancy's face, trying to see if that was the right kind of question to ask. Laura will even go so far as to scent the air with a flare of nostrils, to see what information the other woman's scent tells her.


Nancy notices that this other young woman doesn't seem bothered by her rude mannerisms. This makes it equal parts of awesome, because she doesn't have to pretend to be polite, and sad, because Nancy does get a thrill from offending people. She nods. "Created. Wow. Sorry bout that. Scientists suck balls. Always toying with trying to make the perfect soldier type," she says with a roll of her eyes. Considering Laura acts like Nancy when she is sugar deprived, she makes an assumption. She's good at that, very acrobatic in her ability to jump to conclusions.

The quesion about her own attendance of the Institute gets a shake of the head. "I was a guest here, but never a student. We didn't really see eye to eye. But, I have a few friends from here. Illy, Bobby, Roberto… Kinda miss those guys."

There is a smell of otherness about Nancy. She has only recently returned from travelling the reaches of space for the last 18+ months and though she's showered off the surface influence, there is still a flavour about her scent. Maybe from having eaten alien food sources for so long.


The slim assassin tilts her head sideways at Nancy's first words. While some might take Nancy's words to be far too flippant for what Laura has endured, the slim assassin doesn't. Instead, she once again takes them at face value (just oddly worded) and so, the dark-haired and green-eyed woman offers that singular nod of hers again.

"Yes, I have found it to be just so."

And perhaps her response might be amusing, with how serious Laura says those words; really believes them. She's found she's not the only super soldier out there, or for that matter the only clone out there.

And while Laura could have easily fallen to silence after what she just said, she doesn't. That previous scenting of the air has brought forth that almost hidden smell of otherness about Nancy. It's enough that Laura's nostrils flare once more, as she scents the air, trying to figure out what that difference of Nancy is. Finally, the slim assassin will speak, "You are mutant, but, you smell different." And again, beneath those words of hers is the slightest rise in timbre to her voice, as she asks that question.


Nancy's own history with scientists has been far from stellar. She still can't look at an octopus without wanting to stab it, shoot it, or otherwise maim it into oblivion. A moment is shared between the two women, as Nancy reflects her past, becoming rather serious herself. She takes a deep swallow from her coffee and pushes herself off of the counter.

She starts walking to the fridge, hungry and in a place that is used to feeding ample people. One more won't break Xavier's vast bank account. The flare of nostrils is noticed, causing the goth to smirk. One of those feral types. The thought of messing with her senses crosses Nancy's mind, but she really has become a softly since she first found out what she was and so keeps her bubble to herself. "Actually, I'm a mutate. Mutants are naturally born out of evolution. Mutates are when something has interfered. Drugs, radiation, that sorta thing." She takes out some cream cheese and goes to make some toast. "Different? Well… I did just come back from a vacation out in space. Been around nothing but aliens for the last two years.`


Again, those green eyes follow Nancy, as the other woman moves from leaning so casually, to getting food out of the fridge.

It's only when Nancy describes just who, or rather, what she is, that Laura frowns. The expression on Laura's features are now much more pronounced (for Laura) and while most would consider it still a barely there frown, Laura is frowning and deeply.

"A mutate." She echoes, her voice reverting back to its normal flatness. "I did not know there was a distinction."

And does that make Laura a mutate? Not that it should really matter, but Laura always considered herself a mutant, but perhaps, she's a mutate; thanks to how the scientists triggered her own powers to emerge.

The mention of space is dropped for the moment by Laura, as she internally struggles to define what she's considered now.

Beyond clone, that is.


Noticing the deep thought that Laura seems to be in. "Only scientist types actually care about the difference. It just boils down to the same thing. You have your x-factor all active and you can do neat things. Don't worry about it." The toaster pops and out comes her bagel. Cream cheesy goodness is slathered on. "Seriously, babe, only people like Hank give a shit about whether you are a tant or a tate."


That frown of Laura's continues to lingers slightly but, for the moment she will drop the subject.

And then an awkward pauses happens.

Or, at the very least, there's an awkward pause from Laura. Socialization isn't really the young woman's cup of tea and as such, she'll fall back upon old habits.

Silence. Mute.

That lasts probably a minute or more, as she watches the other woman slather cream cheese upon the toasted bagel. When that task is completed, Laura will say, perhaps with a touch of that previous hesitancy back at her otherwise flat voice, "I am not good at making small talk." An understatement to be certain, but likely, Nancy already realizes this; even if Laura doesn't quite understand that most people pick up on that fact pretty quickly.


Nancy takes a bite of her toasted cheesey goodness and stifles a chuckle. She quickly finishes what is in her mouth, holding up a hand to let the other woman know what she needs a moment, but then replies after swallowing. "No shit, Sherlock. I would never have guessed." She laughs then and tilts her head in the direction of the main room by the entrance, the lounge where many people hangout throughout the day.

"I like you," says the goth as she walks over to find a couch to lounge on, making herself right at home. She gives her head a shake, the strands of green in her black hair weaving in and out of view. "You got that blunt 'I say what I think' thing going for you. No hidden agenda. No double meanings. I like that."


Laughter. That isn't quite what Laura was expecting. After all, she wasn't making a joke. Thankfully, the laughter ends (because Laura did not join in) and Nancy explains herself.

Obliquely, in Laura's mind, but it is an explanation at least.

When the other woman settles upon the seat, Laura pivots enough to keep Nancy in sight. It's, however, at that mention of Nancy liking her that causes the dark-haired woman to scent the air; searching, to see if that's a lie. When no lie is found, Laura will now narrow her eyes slightly. While some might see that as an angry look, for Laura it's more confusion. Again, her flat voice comes out slower than normal, as the assassin says, "I have found most people do not like when a person is blunt. It usually upsets them."


Nancy's grey eyes twinkle with her mirth, that look that makes many wonder if she is laughing at them or with them. The answer being yes. She watches the other woman try to wrap her head around the fact that Nancy likes things that most people don't. "Yeah. I get that. A lot of people don't like me much either. I swear. I say what I think. And I'm just in general kinda mean. But maybe that's why I like you. You're all the good things about me!" She waggles her brows playfully, taking a small bite of her bagel. "Oh yeah, and I'm super modest and shy too."


Laura followed everything that Nancy had to say, until that is, she said that very last bit. Shy and modest. It's enough that Laura will cock her head to the side, as her nostrils flare once more. While Nancy's scent doesn't quite scream LIE, it is telling a different story. The light scent of humor, or amusement, is coming from the other woman.

And while Laura could call Nancy out on what her scent reveals about that last line, Laura doesn't. She's not at that stage where she can take a joke for what it is, so instead, she falls back to only hearing the literal version of those words. "I do not find you shy." Modest? Perhaps and perhaps not, but, Laura hasn't quite spent enough time to assign that attribute to Nancy just yet. And while more could easily be said, the young assassin pauses, her gaze flicking to the clock held within the kitchen. "I must go." She says, the shift in conversation perhaps abrupt, but this is Laura. She doesn't always remember to explain why she's saying what she is.


Nancy just looks to Laura with amazement at her reply to Nancy's own sarcastic comment about herself. "God! Yer just fuckin' adorable, ain't ya?" she asks, the question totally rhetorical, but Nancy figures Laura will give some sort of answer. The sudden comment about Laura needing to go only seems to meet with more amusement. Black painted nails shoo away the petite assassin. "Well, don't let me keep you. I might just check and see what bedrooms aren't being used right now and crash."


Adorable? It's enough to cause Laura's eyebrows to rise upward.

No one has ever said that about her.

And while she would like to say something about it, a class is about to begin and Laura is nothing if not punctual.

Before she leaves the kitchen, however, she will say, "There are several guest rooms available. Good bye." Then she's gone, as she drifts away from the kitchen and towards whatever class is on her schedule for this hour.

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