1756/What's in a name

What's in a name
Date of Scene:	01 August 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Blink, Daken

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Blink has posed:
Late evening among the mutant ghetto. With darkness settled over the streets, most are making their way home from jobs, or school or whatever they have going on in their day to day lives. Most of them are mutants, some are not, but really there's no way to tell with some just by looking...

And then there's Clarice. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, she's wearing deep green skinny jeans with a black halter top as a concession to the summer heat. Wearing an I <Heart> NYC baseball cap and her normal soft brown boots, she could be any other teen walking down the street. Except that her skin is a solid pinky-purple... Oh and her eyes are glowing a soft green. Definitely a mutant...

Which is a shame, because she's found herself dangerously close to the edge of Mutantown, which is where some of the mutie-haters might come at night, hoping to pick off a straggler... A group very much like the four skin-headed men that seem to be following her at a distance...

Daken has posed:
The root of hatred is most often fear. Fear tends to thrive in ignorance. There are so many reasons why this is an unfortunate encounter that never had to happen, but unfortunate for whom is the question -- and it would seem to be most unfortunate, in a most direct manner, for the men following Clarice.

Who would actually linger at the borders of a place where people gifted with superhuman abilities -- more concentrated and focused than anywhere else remotely close -- in order to commit acts of hate and violence?

These idiots, apparently.

It's unfortunate for them in ways that could be expected; it's not slightly intelligent, especially with the utter lack of strategy or planning they seem to embody. No plan for this quartet, no, just skulking about the shadows and following a smaller girl. Easy prey. An easy target.

Haven't they ever seen a movie? Any movie, for that matter.

It's tremendous chance, it seems, that a figure wanders right out of Mutant Town, right onto the path...right between the none-too-ambitious and fairly uncreative pseudo-toughs and their target. They've wasted too much time. They've been following her for too long. They've left a scent too familiar, and that is one of bloodlust.

"Well *hello*, boys." Maybe the figure they got wasn't any kind of figure they'd expect. Certainly not the most imposing, especially given the company he's kept. He's no Juggernaut, though he's built like some kind of marble statue. The shirt he's barely wearing doesn't disguise the elaborate tattooing on one side of his body either. He sounds a little drunk, but if Clarice has any experience in fighting, she'll notice with a glance that he's putting on. This man knows how to command every aspect of his body in a fight.

And there's a sort of...feeling. A scent, if her nose is keen enough. It's like...it's like he's there, but not quite there. Not where the eyes expect him to be.

"And what handsome lads you are too. Looking for a good time, I see." Leaning towards the four, Daken takes a step in his fashionable boots, and he steps just unsurely enough to be sure-footed. "I'm just a guy who loves to have fun."

Blink has posed:
It's his talking that pricks those elfin ears of hers. The young mutant turns as the street toughs answer with their own, ever so slightly slurred New York'ian drawl. "Beat it guy, we're not after you." Ah, so that's what's going on. The young mutant takes a moment to drop her corn dog stick that she'd been idly holding into a bin before starting to make her way back.

"Well she's seen us now, just get the stinkin' mutie!" Chimes up one of the lead guy's buddies. They spread out into a loose semi-circle facing the two, thankfully giving Clarice time to make it back to stand next to her supposedly drunken savior. Of course with all of Sabretooth's training, she can tell he's faking it, but alas her nose isn't any better than the average. So other than the lack of alcohol smell, there's not much more to be learnt there.

Putting on her best Blase Grin, the purple girl reaches up, twists her cap around so it faces backwards the brim covering her neck. "Oh you guys are /so/ screwed..." Is all she says, her arms held loose beside her, muscles relaxed. To one in the know, it's a deceptive fighting stance, ready to move without looking so. But her weight is /just/ forward enough to rest on the balls of her feet... However she's not gone for any powers yet, maybe she doesn't have any?

Daken has posed:
Daken clicks his tongue as he's addressed, and so dismissively too. Suddenly, it's like he's a different person; any sort of drunken pretense vanishes, and he stands up straight, muscles flexed and showing off perhaps a little. It shows how ready he is to act.

"You had your chance, boys." He takes the opportunity to really look Clarice over, and openly. He can recognize a fighting stance, and he likes this one. "Why don't you get lost? The sexy people are going to go out now. You should bark up a different tree." Lips curling into an absolutely wicked grin, Daken's eyes gleam as he turns to catch the light from a flickering streetlamp in them. "A less stupid one."

Blink has posed:
Clarice's grin doesn't move, plastered over her face as if she's just a little bit loopy. Maybe it's a fighting face, maybe it's just her. Either way, one of the guys (probably with the highest IQ) states flatly; "Maybe we should ju-" But that scentence never finishes, because Big Bad Leader decides he doesn't like being insulted.

"Screw you pretty boy!" He rushes in, clearly intending a simple right hook to Daken's jaw... The problem with hooks though, is that they're slow. The girl's quick, utilising speed where raw power fails. Before he's closed half the distance she's moved - darting towards him, to slide easily under the prepared blow, three quick strikes hit him in stomach, solar plexus and throat... Big guy crumples, leaving his three buddies to stare openly.

Skipping back a little she gives Daken the thumbs up. "Your turn cutie!" Clarice quips lightly, the girl's breathing barely more than when she was walking - though her eyes gleam with the excitement of it all.

Daken has posed:
That...that's glorious. Daken throws his head back and laughs a big, deep laugh that resonates all around where they're standing. It's not quite mad, but it's also not quite sane. Who laughs when he's getting into a fight? Especially a fight that revolves around hate and intolerance and they're right next to Mutant Town...but maybe that's part of why he does it and why he lets loose with it.

Maybe some more of those mutants will notice what's going on and look out. Maybe this will escalate. Daken likes an escalating donnybrook as much as anyone, probably more.

"Cheers, Violet." It seems to be what he's decided her name will be, in some inscrutably affectionate way.

But instead of doing anything that such a mundane fight would really require, he launches forward and handvaults to propel himself in a devastatingly graceful kick at another of the four. He springs back to launch his target some distance, but that unfortunate fellow lands with considerably less flair than Daken...who flips in midair and alights on the feet of a dancer.

He'd have to be, in those boots.

Blink has posed:
Blink just watches the move with a low whistle of appreciation. "I'm going to have to up my game..." She comments dryly to herself. As for the pet name... Well if she's going to call him cutie, then she can't really complain about it. Two guys left, and all so fast that there's only quick glances from the couple of folks still on the street.

There's still Mister High IQ, and his less developed friend. Now that they have time to look, it's easy to make out small swastikas on their necks. And suddenly it all clicks into place. The hatred, the desire to hurt, the stupidity. It's enough to make Clarice grind her teeth. Two groups of mutant haters in only three days, no wonder Magneto told her to be careful...

The two goons are starting to look a little worried, in fact, High IQ turns and flee's - running as fast as his legs can carry him. "Oh well /that/ isn't going to do at all..." The Barbadian accented mutant comments, a flick of fingers and a portal blossoms right in front of her... It's twin opening right in front of the escaping goon.

It's a flurry of blows that follows, difficult to follow in their execution - but the result is more than clear. Holding his groin (where her knee finished the series of impacts) he sinks slowly to the floor. As the portals vanish, there's a soft whimper that accompanies him falling sideways. She just shakes her head; "And you thought you'd take /me/ down?" The words drip with condescention.

Daken has posed:
Daken seems to be taking all of this as an easy opportunity to show off, and it's probably not surprising for someone like Clarice. She can recognize that there's nothing normal or average about him. At the very minimum, he's remarkably at home in a fight. So much so that he's just watching, nodding with appreciation, at his new friend's next triumph.

"They thought they'd take *both* of us down," Daken calls over to her, unable to stop himself breaking into soft laughter even by the end of that statement. It's pretty ridiculous. Clearly, this group of four neo-nazis had no idea they were outnumbered by a pretty boy and a pinkish-purplish girl.

Said pretty boy saunters casually over to the last one, and there's something...not right about him, again. It's like he's hard to make out, or like he's moving in sudden rushes, like some kind of monster from a contemporary horror film. It's unnatural, not to mention a bit unsettling.

And when he gets close enough to the last one, he flares his eyes open and smiles, and it's somehow the most terrifying thing. He growls, snarls, and doesn't bother throwing a punch. He's pretty sure he won't have to, to make the little horror run for his life.

Blink has posed:
He doesn't. In fact, as the last guy turns and runs there's the quickest glint that maybe he wet himself on the way out too. Bullies are cowards at heart after all. Clarice just laughs, watching him run. "I think we can let him go... Maybe he'll tell his friends and they'll realise this is a bad idea all together."

She looks at the guys on the floor, considering for a moment. "I think... Perhaps you need a lesson though." There's still a thoughtful look on her face as her right hand rises... And then a evil grin blossoms as it falls, a large tear pulling open to show a sandy beach, the sun rising over the horizon.

Looking over towards Tall, Dark and Terrifying, she asks; "Mind chucking them through? Just uh, don't touch the sides 'kay?" She gestures with one hand, because she might be good in a fight, but lifting dead weight is a strength thing. Which he seems to have in bucket-loads.

"Let's see how well they do on Genosha... With no passports." She smirks softly, looking down at them. "Come play in /my/ neighourhood, we'll see how well you do."

Daken has posed:
Daken takes a deep breath and flutters his long lashes like it's a pleasing perfume. Most people probably wouldn't, but then there's Daken. He's frightened enough of a crowd with small talk at a soiree, so casual banter with thugs only technically sentient isn't any great hurdle.

When the young woman speaks to him, Daken lifts his brows and looks over to her. He nods once or twice, then easily picks them up, one at a time, and just hurls them through. He's still got the grace of earlier, moving with the exactness of a well-oiled machine. He's either not as young as he looks, or he's been training for as long as he's been alive.

Maybe longer, somehow. Who knows, in this bizarre world of wonders and the weird? He may have been a prenatal martial arts student. Probably not. That's asking a bit much.

And once it's all over with, Daken holds out his hand to Clarice. "Daken. And what do they call you, Violet?" He leans slightly closer. "Besides fierce beyond all expectation."

Blink has posed:
Taking the hand, she shakes it as the portal behind her closes with a soft -blink!- noise. "Clarice, that was some pretty funky moves. Thanks for the assist." She's still grinning, bouncing lightly on her toes as the adrenaline in her system works it's way out.

"Shocked they'd try something so near to Mutanttown though, seems a bit desperate." She looks down the street the running man left by, before he'd ducked into an alley. Assumedly to keep running. "It's not a good sign though, this is meant to be a place for us to be out here..." The teen sighs and then shrugs, dismissing the creeping worries.

"But enough of that! I owe you a reward! So, drink?" The girl grins, adding as an afterthought; "We can go anywhere you fancy, if it's somewhere I know or that you have a picture of." Because that's her thing apparently.

Daken has posed:
"You could've taken them." Daken laughs again, giving Clarice's hand a friendly squeeze. He really is very agreeable to the senses, for most. "You were looking great yourself," he replies. "Honestly, those four were desperate. What else do they have in life but blaming their problems on other people they don't understand? Like here's a question: you barely have *regular human* abilities, what kind of sense does it make to go after people who can shoot lasers out of their eyes and control the weather?!"

But with a shake of his head, Daken moves past it and then starts thinking -- *really* thinking. Because now he's seen the trick, now he knows they could potentially go just about anywhere. Anyplace at all. "Darling, why don't you take us somewhere *you* like? I'm just along for the ride." He's got no real appointments. At least, none he cares about. He could just go on what they call walkabout, as long as he wants to.

When he comes back, he knows they'll welcome him with open arms. They always do.

They don't have much of a choice.

Blink has posed:
"Ah well then... London would be my choice, but everything's pretty much shut by now there..." She ponders the problem. "Hawaii is pretty nice I hear, but not been so not /entirely/ sure where we'd go..." It's not something that someone often asks really, when it's a novelty, people often have a list of places they'd like to see.

"Ah, got it." She grins, opening a tear to a very dark looking village green. Across the way a small (and very British looking) pub sits nestled out of the way. Despite the late hour, laughter can be heard from inside.

"Scotland, always a pub lock in, and this one's mutant friendly... Let's grab a pint eh?" The last line is delivered in a very bad English accent, someone trying an aproximation of an American take on the language. It's very bad, but amusingly so - which going by the wink he gets before she skippy-steps through, is exactly what it was meant to be. "Come on Daken!" She gestures, cheeks turning a soft plum as the cold of the highlands bites into her Barbadian flesh.