20363/Catchign The Tiger In His Den

Catchign The Tiger In His Den
Date of Scene:	02 April 2025
Location:	Harry's Hideaway (Bar)
Synopsis:	Two exiles from a future that may not exist anymore, walk into a bar.
Cast of Characters:	Bishop, Trevor Fitzroy

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Bishop has posed:
There's far too much going on again. A mission last minute rescue mission to Limbo, Madripoor in ruins and still occupied by the remnant of The Mutant Liberation Front - with time travelers of their own involved, and the myriad of security issues and concerns that plague The Xavier's Institute and it's various wards...

Then there is that 'other' loomin problem. One of a more personal nature, as he sees it.

It's enough to give any X.S.E. Commander a headache.

So with so much on the to do list? What is he doing sitting by himself in Harry's Hideway, table full of empty drinks and an unfinished sandwich, lacking the presence of any of his peers and comrades? Well .. even a security enforcer needs a break now and again..

Bishop does his best brooding when alone anyway and a change of scenary from the Security Room in the mansion, The War Room, The Danger Room...hell.. -his- room...is actually doing him some good for once. He'd normally seek any of those places to set his mind at ease but for right now, the evening crowd at Harry's HIdeway is doing much for him to let him center his thoughts and re-evaluate things. A brief moment of respite considering what he's seeing as possibly laying ahead.

Trevor Fitzroy has posed:
It was almost suicidally stupid, but Trevor had never been over-concerned with his own survival. As a teleporter, if things got hot he'd just get up and gone. He had more than enough life-energy stored in addition to his own to open a half-dozen solo portals and if he needed more, well, it was just within arm's reach. Usually.

Lucas wasn't the only one who'd studied the old legends, and they'd mentioned Harry's Hideaway as the preferred watering-hole of the fabled X-Men. And after his experience in Madripoor (disappointment! But an exciting one!) he could use a legend that lived up to the mark. So he opened the front door to Harry's and walked in, keeping his hoodie hood up to obscure his bright green hair and his hands in his pockets to keep their crystalline nature from giving the game away. He took a seat at a table by himself and just paused to look around the bar. The legends had been vague on what precisely Harry's had looked at and, disappointingly, there didn't seem to be anything untoward going on.

Not yet, anyway.

Bishop has posed:
The influx of crowds and the comings and goings of individuals of interest is not in and of itself all that unusual. Indeed, as the favored watering hole of the institute staff and the X-Men themselves...any number of individuals of note may walk through those doors. Even a Juggernaut or a Sorcerer Supreme might pop up. Some are more notable then others but for Bishop, trained as he is, even in his attempts to relax ... little escapes his notice. A quick glance is often all it takes for him to size up each and every entrant and when the hooded man arrives, hands being kept in his pockets and hood up, despite the cozy warmth the place is offering against the chill of the early spring outdoors.... Bishop does indeed take notice.

It's more of a studied glance then anything. Not a long stare or a look of suspicion ...but he does note the new arrival before turning his attention to his drinks once more.

As for Bishop himself? He's hard to miss. Dark of skin, long braided hair and a physique that looks one part bodybuilder, one part football player and one part post apocalyptic hunter.... His 6'8" frame visibly sprawls out and swamps over his claimed seat in comparison to the average sized person here. If Piotr was here then....well there'd be two giants and not just one. There's no helping him standing out even while sitting down.

Eventually, though, he glances at his watch and then begins to fiddle in his wallet for the cash necessary to settle the bill. He's shirked his duties long enough...

Trevor Fitzroy has posed:
Trevor, having finally soaked up enough warmth, lowered his hood and let his bright green curls spill forth from his hood. The hands, however, stayed gloved. They were harder to explain, even back in his own era. As he'd discovered most of the intoxicants suited him not at all, and having finally laid eyes on the extremely familiar XSE field commander, he couldn't help but let a small smile cross his lips. He also double-checked that his armor was online and in full standby mode, ready to be invoked at a moment's notice. Because a moment was all that he'd get and his arm still ached from where that woman in Madripoor had shot him. A lot of people had died to gret him to force the healing process. But the waitress was perfectly content to deliver him a ... sports drink, he thought it waa called. Something about flying bovines in fanciful colors.

A marvelous place, the 21st century.

Once he had his drink, he got up from his table and walked over to where Bishop sat. He had a bet with himself to see how close he could get before Lucas either opened fire or in some way raised a ruckus. He didn't think the man had the same powers he once had in the XSE but he could be wrong.

Bishop has posed:
There might have once been a time when a play blook that more closely resembled the dystopian nightmare world of Judge Dredd over the modern 21st century, would have guided Lucas' every action. Now? The haze of a more civilized time has settled on him..warring with his instincts and his old training. A certain expectation of what it means to be an X-Man.

Granted...he's also X-Force...

But even so, opening fire or otherwise causing an immediate panic in a room full of impressionable and non-mutants runs counter to everything that he's been trained to do and tempered in terms of behavior.

It doesn't mean he doesn't see the approach...ping who it -actually- is ...and then casually - with one of his large hands, reveal his concealed gun and very deliberately rest it on his knee under his table, but in an angle so that he knows Trevor will absolutely see it.. and know what it means.

With that gesture comes his glance, looking over to lock eyes with the approaching green haired killer. His expression now stone like and neutral ..save for the sharp intensity in his eyes. Teleathy isn't needed to pick up the warning: Approach carefully and at your own risk.

Trevor Fitzroy has posed:
He saw the gun. He was somewhat amazed he hadn't already pulled the trigger. But instead Trevor took a seat opposite the big man and gestured with his drink. "Lucas." he said, the man's accent a (likely) unwelcome reminder of the time they'd both left. "How are you enjoying the 21st century? I see you've tracked down your beloved X-Men. Not quite the way the legends described them, now, are they?" he said, then took a drink of his beverage. Now _this_ ... this reminded him of hone. Almost painfully.

He also took a hand out of his pocket and let it rest on the table. Now it was a stalemate - could Lucas pull the trigger or use his own gift and knock him back before Trevor could make contact and utilize his own gift? Could be interesting to find out.

Bishop has posed:
The hand on the table is noted and Bishop just stares, un moved. For a few long seconds, he says nothing at all and then:

"I wouldn't have let you get this close if I didn't have options to deal with you, Fitroy...."

There's a faint crackle of energy from behind his dark shades, illuminating his granite like features. "The gun's just for show. Or have you forgotten my gifts? I haven't forgotten yours..."

It is indeed a stalemate but the large man is unflappable - and now the question is raised from where an attack might come? The gun? Or does he have enough stored energy in him to do the deed without it.

Not to mention his peak, and occasionally superhuman physique and reflexes. Could he act faster then Trevor could intiaite a teleport or reach for him? Too many variables to consider. His mind is undouble running a hundred different scenarios even as he calmly speaks.

"They're legends enough for me...and only 'human' as well. I've been here longer then you, I think. Four or five years...."

He pauses again and then now come the questions. Can't take a cop off te job for long, "How many?" he asks, "How big is your body count already?"

Trevor Fitzroy has posed:
Trevor made a face. "Come now, Lucas. As the only two members of our era in existence at this time, I hardly think we need to be so formal." he said. "Call me Trevor. And you shall be Lucas." He paused to ponder Bishop's rude question and chose to amuse himself with the mores of this time and place. "A gentleman is not prepared to discuss such details." he said with a smooth smile. "Or are you propositioning me? I'm healthy, I can promise you that." he said with a wink. The danger added a certain degree of spice and he did have his armor summonable with a thought and that field-portable collapsible suppression collar that Lucas used to carry out on patrol as a part of his kit loadout. Hell, the one he had in his pocket used to be Shard's. He thought. He was pretty sure he took it off her corpse. Might have been someone else's. Didn't really matter now.

It was so rare to be able to banter back and forth like this, like they used to. Before he'd died and come back wrong. Before Shard, the jailbreak, all of it. He remembered it, he remembered taking pleasure in it, but he couldn't feel it anymore.

Bishop has posed:
A small war continues to rage within Bishop. Warring tactics. Warring feelings. Rage. Duty. Grief.

Trevor's smugness isn't helping either. But like it or not, he has the cards here. A stalemate it may seem, at the table at least, but something else is on Bishop's mind - all of the people around them. A more pragmatic Bishop and barbaric time may have him being willing to put them at risk to bring down such a fugitive - let alone -this- one... but here and now?

And yes...the armor. Nothing here is a sure thing. So 'banter' they must.

"....Fine. Trevor." he says, "Not that you have any right to use my first name so casually anymore but fine. Trevor it is... and I've been to your handiwork in Gotham. I have a guess at what you've done already. Since we're on such 'good terms' I was hoping you'd be willing to share.. Seems you've been getting around though. A quick word of advice - Madripoor is occupied by a group of mutant terrorists that include time travelers from even further in the future then us. They aren't prone to being friendly or seeking allies so stay out Madripoor..."

The MLF and Fitzroy working together would be a nightmare not even he wants to dwell on.

Something else said catches his attention though. "....So you've not encountered Malcom or Randall...?"

Trevor Fitzroy has posed:
Trevor shrugged. And gave Lucas one for free. "Sorry. I was under the impression they were with you. But this universe has some rather unique traits." he said. And yes. All those people in the bar. Fuel and body-shields if they needed to be. Lucas as Trevor remembered him was ill-inclined to care overmuch if he had to put bystanders in the ground to get his target but perhaps this era had softened him. I mean, here he was _out of uniform_. Tsk, tsk.

"Come, Lucas. We were practically family for a little while there." he said. And then -triple- checked to make sure his armor was ready to go, maximal defensive mode. "Madripoor was delightful." he said, giving Lucas another one for free. He was feeling generous, he supposed. "I actually got to set foot in the Princess. Remember it, from the old holos?" he asked. "I mean, before the Sentinels turned it into a radioactive crater."

Bishop has posed:
"Key word is -were- family....Trevor. Maybe you've forgotten a few incidents...a few actions...that've kind of soured the relations and taken us of of each others holiday card list."

Bishop's large fingers drum on the table, the first signs of building impatience...but he stops.

He is indeed...different. Softer or at least - more measured. This much is clear. But something lurks within him... Hints of that old hardened judge-jury-executioner that's just been put on pause by the influence of Xavier and the legends he's now associated with.

"I know you're enjoying this..." Bishop finally concedes, "..But whatever reason you've come back in time .... this reality ...this timeline is different. Events aren't even happening like we would recall them. 'Our' future might not even result from what's happening here. Some of the signs of similar events are still there but... You can't change the past, Trevor....but we still have to account for our own past actions... So whatever you're planning and trying to do back here...you know i've got to put a stop to you. The X-Men do."

Trevor Fitzroy has posed:
"Bishop. We can both agree that the time we remember was a string of horrors." he said. "This time, for all of its faults, is unlikely to develop into what we both remember." he pointed out. "You could go find your grandmother. Of course, it won't be her as you knew her, but maybe you could indulge in some of that warm family feeling." he said.

"Mine is alive and well and here now, but I have never been tremendously fond of the Shaw bloodline." he said. "Shinobi? No. Sebastian!" he said as he counted the generations backwards. "A thoroughly unpleasant fellow, if Father was to be believed. Dabbling in all sorts of naughty things. Perhaps you and your legendary friends should saddle up and go oppress him." he said with no indication that he was joking whatsoever.

Bishop has posed:
THe large commanders eyes narrow ever so slightly....but he listens. Filing every word away. Considering every statement as the movement of a chess piece. Constnatl on guard. Constnatly looking for double meaning and attempts at manipulation.

And then, he eventually sighs. It's less a lowering of the guard and instead more open resignation to this forced conversation. This ...banter.

"If you don't think this could devolve into our time then you haven't been paying attention. Human and mutant relations are perhaps more strained then even our own history books suggested this era was like. Atrocities have been committed. Outside interference. Genosha is just one example. Open use of Sentinels and hate groups making deals and bargains with supernatural entities for added power just to destroy us. We're one disaster away from the scales being tipped. I intend to make sure that never happens but even if I did ....well...you know better then I the rules of 'time travel'. Our time is always going to have been there or we wouldn't be sitting here talking. But maybe this timeline can be given a chance..."

His frown returns now, tightening, "But that's neither here nor now, Fitzroy. Alturism and 'saving the future' isn't exactly what you're planning to do for...is it? You already know I can't let you just do as you please..."

Trevor Fitzroy has posed:
"And you're notoriously lousy at stopping me from doing what I want, but you're right. I've no desire to bring about the Sentinel War. Or the Uprising." he said. He was not going to tell Lucas Bishop about how this universe hated time travel, fiercely resisted alteration. He was _trapped_ here and unless he wanted to chew old hatreds until he grew old and died, he needed _something_ to give his existence meaning. "There are people, as there always are, looking to steer the world this way or that." he said. "And you with your fetish about the old legends were always so blind to the study of history." he commented. Shard was the intellectual (as it were) in their little family.

"I was fortunate enough to live it. And I've got resources, Bishop. From our time. From further out." he admitted very carefully. "And they'll never age. Never degrade. Trapped in a moment, you might say." he said.

"You can hate me, Lucas. While I don't understand anymore, I know why intellectually. Shard alone, if not the other things I've done." he said. "But you and I are all that's left of the XSE until and unless someone gets around to founding it in this timeline. And you don't have the powers and privileges you're used to. Sentinel, neither do I." he said. And he missed them fiercely. "And we're both aware of what Might Be." he said, the capital letters plain. "And neither of us, I think, want a front-row seat to another apocalypse."

Bishop has posed:
That nearly did it. Nearly pushed that trigger. The tiger leans forward, expression darkening momentarily.

"-We- aren't all that's left of the X.S.E., Trevor.-I- am.... You don't have the -right- to that title after what you've done..."

He catches himself and then leans back, letting his anger simmer and quiet.

A fetish about the old legends... Bishop's eyes narrow slightly as he considers everything said...and it is indeed true. Be it Galactus or a future Sentinel War... Trevor has no desire to see this world end. Bishop knows that much.

"We can agree on at least that.." he finally admits, "That we want this world to keep on turning though no doubt you'll do whatever you can to make sure that as it turns you'll be on top...no matter who has to die along the way.."

Bishop shakes his head and then, at last, his resolve tightens as he says, "And maybe you're right.. Maybe I am nortoroiusly lousy in catching you.. But there's one thing that's different here and now...something that's not the same as it was back in those good old days. One thing that'll make the difference this time..."

Bishop pauses and then leans forward again slightly.

"The X-Men. The legends are real. Active. Here. And they know about you now. So I suggest you enjoy the little grace period this conversation has created..because things aren't going to be the same as they were in 'the past'..."

Trevor Fitzroy has posed:
"Well, of course." he said. "I always intend to find myself on top of the natural order of things. Breeding will tell." he said with a smirk, considering how well Lucas knew about Trevor and his complete lack of familial warmth. "Ah, yes. The X-Men." he said. He knew the legends almost as well as Bishop himself did - it was him, after all, that let the Biahop kids into the Hellfire Archive to examine the fragmentary records directly. "So you've found the traitor then? The mysterious legend-killer that destroys the X-Men from within?" he asked. "Congratulations! We should celebrate your mighty achievement." he said grandiosely.

"You told the X-Men about little old me? Lucas Bishop, you sly dog. I'm flattered. Truly." he said with another one of his crooked grins. "What threat could I be? I don't have sort of gift that lends itself to mass mayhem." he said modestly. "All of my mayhem must be conducted personally."

Bishop has posed:
The Security Enforcer narrows his eyes once more. It's been a running theme. Fitzroy is probably one of the few who can see who 'flappable' the unflappable' Bishop can be. He says nothing about the traitor. An answer unto itself.

"This may surprise you.." he finally rumbles, "But a mutant killing dozens of people to satiate his powers quite possibly falls onto the radar of the sort of things the X-Men are interested in - let alone other agencies. Our present conversational circumstances may be keeping matters cordial but you will answer for that and more. But I suppose that goes without saying..."

Trevor Fitzroy has posed:
Trevor just looked confused for a moment. But that was the ASPD in him blocking his ability to feel empathy. And made him wonder why they even cared. "No? The traitor is still out there? Oh, my." he said. "Have you even _told them_ about the ... what did they used to call it ... the Judas goat in their midst? Hope it's not you! Pretty sure it's not me." he mused thoughtfully. "Perhaps the good Doctor McCoy snaps? Or the enigmatic mystery that calls herself Rogue? She's a dangerous one. Or the Wolverine! Any of them, they're all berserkers. There's just _so many_ possibilities, aren't there? I don't envy you that investigation." he said.

"And while it's been delightful catching up, Lucas, I really should away. Don't worry yourself about where, you'll never find me unless I want you to." he said matter-of-factly. "I could be anywhere. Anywhen." he pointed out. "But on a more serious note, what's been done is in the past. Well, technically, the future, but from our frame of reference, they're in the past. We don't have to go through the same tedious dance."

Bishop has posed:
The traitor. Bishop's eyes narrow once again. He had not forgotten. To him it's been an absolute certianity but indeed it -could- be anyone. The cajun is always lurking in his mind.. That reflection of 'Witness' from so long ago.

But be Trevor needling or simply legitimately interested and surprised at the lack of that case being solved... Bishop grunts and once again refuses to indulge the matter.

Once again, his silence speaking volumes.

Finally, at the end, he simply says, "Our past follows us. We can't just pretend that past deeds don't matter. There's blood between us... But let's just hypotnetically say we did let bygones be bygones...an left 'in the past. There's a church full of the ashes of people that symbolize your passage, Answering for your -present= would be a start."

As Fitzroy makes to leave, Bishop's hand once more twitches...considering the gun on his lap. Will he take the shot? Even attempt it?

He remains still and just watches, waiting to see if the Upstart makes good on his departure. "Goodbye Fitzroy."

Trevor Fitzroy has posed:
Trevor remembered his long-neglected beverage and slams it down in a single swallow. "Farewell, Bishop. I wish you success in all of your hunts." he said. "And I'm not admitting to anything but that incident you refer to? In the church?" he said. "Field experiment. A Spaniard set it up." he admittedly, almost carelessly. It's not like he cared if he aimed Bishop at the arrogant prick Cortez. "You might want to inquire with him." he said as he stood up and lifted up the hood of his jacket to tuck his bright green mass of hair into.

Next step was to _turn his back_ on the former XSE commander and begin to make his way to the front door.

Bishop has posed:
Theres the shot. Take the shot. It could be his XSE blaster with his inhuman reflexes, speed and unerring accuracy. It could be a burst from his fist. His eyes. A sudden discharge of kinetic energy boiling across the distance in the space of an eye twinkle.

The X-Men don't shoot people in the back. Don't take first shots in rooms full of civilians.

X-Force might... Trusting to their skill and accuracy. Shoot now and explain later. X.S.E. would have long ago made the attempt to drop Trevor where he stands.

But this is a kinder and gentler Bishop... tempered and restrained by the decorum of the modern day and knowledge of what's to come. He can't do it. He hasn't been pushed back into that old Executioner and Enforcer mindset in full. Not yet. His hand does't pull the trigger and he doesn't move. Just allows Trevor to depart and stares after him.

Trevor Fitzroy has posed:
Just as Trevor reaches the front door, he turns back towards Bishop. He had him dead-bang, they both knew it, and Bishop didn't take the shot. He was almost surprised. So instead he waved a farewell with a waggle of his fingers, stepped clear of the doorway, and then teleported out.