12078/Whiskey, Rum, Scotch, and A Lot of Hands

Whiskey, Rum, Scotch, and A Lot of Hands
Date of Scene:	19 July 2022
Location:	Cafeteria and Bar
Synopsis:	Spiral manages to piss Mystique off, but reminds the blue mutant there is more to life than lost love.
Cast of Characters:	Raven Darkholme, Spiral

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Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique rarely kept any kind of real schedule. The one and only thing that happened every day at the same time was feeding her koi in the lake of the gardens. Six in the evening, like clockwork, she would go to the garden to tend to the koi because the health of the fish really did rely on a routine.

Today after that daily ritual was complete, the blue mutant leader of the Brotherhood had gone to the asteroid's bar. She got herself a whiskey with a splash of cheery grenadine syrup, no ice, and settled herself at her usual table in the corner. Another thing known around the asteroid these days... Mystique was not in a good mood.

The few people who were in the bar lingered across the room, a rather large distance from her, at the television with console game. They were playing some sort of stupid racing game that she was ignoring while sipping at her drink and glaring off into nothing.

Spiral has posed:
    "WHOO HOO!" Shouts a high pitched woman's voice as a pair of arms shoot up into the air and, a third hand is seen in the light pointing to the woman's opponent, "Suck it up skuzzbucket!" She says, gloating as she takes a first place win in the video game she was playing with a gaggle of other people in the bar. Standing to her feet, the woman with the stringy white hair stands back to her feet, the use of her left arm to help push her up out of the chair. "Better luck next time." She says, talking in several cliches.

    Spiral turns around and waves a hand towards the barkeep and holds up a single finger. "One more." Then the hand falls back to the two others next to it on that side of her body, and the pupilless woman locks her eyes onto Mystique, but doesn't directly approach the woman, no she moves to he end of the bar, closest to the azure woman, and sits there, briefly, her tight sleeveless t-shirt showing off a bit more than her triplicate arms, and a pair of tight blue jeans down her legs ending in bright white shoes, perfectly clean with the security tags still on the tongues.

    Seated at the bar, Spiral waits for her drink while stealing obvious glances of Mystique.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The glares into nothingness does nothingness does not stop Mystique from being observant, there's very little on the planet that could stop that. Even pissed off, or upset, or whatever it was that had turned the woman into a walking doom cloud as of late, she was still trained to keep an eye on her surroundings.

She hadn't bothered to notice what game was being played, nor taken direct note of the faces of those playing when she had entered. The asteroid was a safe space for all mutants, no need for her to be keeping track of everything and everyone... but she did that anyway. H & D had already told her Spiral was on the asteroid, they announced everyone, and thus her eyes in the sky kept her informed.

"Subtle," she finally says calmly, turning her attention toward Spiral. She herself was dressed in her usual white tailored suit with low cut blouse. If it was a part of her, there was no way to know.

"If there is something you need Spiral, please," she gestured toward the chair across from her. "Join me."

Spiral has posed:
    "One minuuute." Spiral says, doing a touch of vabrato on the last word as she waits for her drink to be delivered. A yard of long island iced tea. Yeah. The bartender hates making it, but Spiral does pay good money. Some how. "Thanks love." She says, having to stand and reach up on her toes to lift the drink over the actual bar.

    Drink in hand, and nearly a walking cane at that, Spiral makes her way to Mystique's table, a saunter that would rival the catwalks of Paris, but in nothing close to resembling the fashion on display. Nor the talent wearing the fashion. Spiral is kind of a mess. Bubbly, but not quite all there. Something much more sinister lies beneath those blank eyes and calculated laugh.

    "Ha ha. I don't think I needed any-" Spiral pauses mid thought, two right hands on the glass as she lowers it to touch the floor before she sits down, making sure to not spill it and then guiding the straw to her face. "I do need something from you." Spiral says in a whisper after gulping about six inches of tea from the yard-glass.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Reaching to set the glass on the table, Mystique crosses right leg over left and folds her hands lightly in her lap. Of course Spiral needed something, why else would she choose to reappear? She was one of those mutants who appeared and disappeared quite regularly, but when she did come around it was usually for something specific.

"How can I help you, Spiral?" She asks smoothly, head canting very slightly. The mask of neutrality had slipped into place before the many armed woman even reached the table. Business face as Mystique would call it, but really it was a trained response to dealing with unknown factors.

Spiral has posed:
    Taking another sip to clear her palette, Spiral then leans over, two elbows up on the table, palms catching her cheeks and face as she leans closer to Mystique to respond. "I'm fucking bored out of my skulls." Spiral admits and then one could FEEL her rolling her eyes. "Life's been nothing lately. Just a big turd sandwich. Y'know?!" The mystic says and shrugs her broad shoulders towards Mystique and then leans back into the booth and laces several fingers to rest on her flat stomach. "Bored." She repeats.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique blinks just once, watching Spiral from across the table with an expressionless face. Spiral had come all the way to the asteroid, taken the time to get her attention, and all just to announce she was bored? No, there had to be something more to it, it would just require a little fishing.

"To aid you with your current state of... boredom," she clears her throat a little as she reaches for her glass. "I will need to know what sort of thing you enjoy doing, Spiral. Though I do feel I should tell you... I'm not an entertainment manager."

Spiral has posed:
    "No, and I know you're not. I am." Spiral admits and rolls her head to the side to fish for the straw with her lips before a hand lazily reaches up to help guide once again. Another six inches injested and Spiral shimmies at the chill down her throat. "I haven't gotten into a scrap in what feels like... I don't know, days. Weeks? How long is a second again?" She asks, unable to tell if she's being for real or not.

    "You were always a woman with a plan, or at least a sucker fish strapped to the belly of a shark that was devouring his way through the ocean of life." She pauses and sits up, a revelation dawning behind those eyes. "May, be... Maybe. Maybe I'm here to help YOU Mystique. Help you get back into the groove of things."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Another blank, expressionless stare from Mystique is aimed in Spiral's direction. That suggested was far worse than the idea of she herself coming up with some way to entertain the many armed mutant.

"My groove is fine," she states bluntly, even though it wasn't entirely the truth. "If you want to keep sharp, the training room is always available. Not the same as drawing real blood, but at least you don't lose your edge."

How do you politely tell a psychotic mutant to bugger of? You don't, you find another angle and work it instead. In this case, it was the training room and the possibilities it offered. If that didn't work, then Mystique would have to think of something else. The last thing she needed was someone trying to improve her mood. Azazel had spent a week doing just that, and just barely managed to keep her from disappearing like she had when Destiny died.

Spiral has posed:
    Spiral pauses and looks to Mystique, a bit more fully now, and with a soft squint as she peers much closer, as if the filters of life are being peeled away so the multilimbed dancer can see everything clearly. "Sorry, but anyone who says their goove is fine, is definitely not grooving." She notes casually and takes another sip of her talk drink, now about halfway gone.

    "You are hurting something fierce, aren't you?" Spiral asks. Could she have read that off Mystique's face, off her mind, off her soul? Was the witch just guessing? Why is she doing any of this in the first place. "I mean, I'll go punch a hologram, but like you said, it's not the same, and it's not as fun. I want fun Mysti. You want fun too."

    Maybe she means Purpose instead of fun?

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Another sip is taken of her drink, the glass held in her hand this time rather then going back to the table. Mystique had no idea how Spiral could pick up on anything from her body language, her face, or her eyes. The blue mutant was an expert at concealing everything, or in some cases acting out completely different emotions than she actually felt. It was part of how she was so good at what she did, the ability to not only look like someone, but literally become them in every way.

As she sat there silently watching Spiral, she decided it was something to do with magic, the one area of knowledge that Mystique was lacking in. She had intended to learn more, Lydia has been going to teach her, but that boat sailed, then caught on fire and sank to the bottom of the ocean, Mariana Trench deep.

"No, someone who says their groove is fine doesn't worry about having a groove," she replies plainly after that silence. "I'm a hundred and fourty-three years old Spiral, I don't need nor want a groove."

Her yellow eyes shift to look at the glass in her hand for a moment, narrowing slightly before she looks back up. "As for how I am feeling or what I might feel, that isn't your concern." Her tone shifted slightly as she spoke this, more authority behind it. She'd opened herself up and been stabbed, so it seemed the cold, calculating, keep the world at arms length Mystique was back.

Spiral has posed:
    "Needing or wanting a groove isn't how it works Mystique, and we both know it." She says with a wink, seemingly choosing to ignore the tone of Raven's words. "It might not be my concern, emotionally, but you being in a slump, it is a concern of mine. Like I said, I'm an entertainment manager, and you can be SO entertaining, and such a driving force for change and goodness in this world that this hiatus of yours... It's leaving COUNTLESS people without leadership, without focus, without ..." Standing suddenly and lifting a fist into the air, punching up to the ceiling. "Hope."

    Slowly lowering her head to face Mystique, but still standing, "I want to help you find your hope again." Spiral says, holding out a pair of hands towards Mystique, inviting her to rise with her.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
There was no way in hell that Mystique was buying it. Spiral was bored, she'd announced that quite firmly, and the last thing the blue mutant needed was to be someone elses entertainment.

"I'm not taking your hands," she states bluntly, almost coldly. "I haven't stopped, my plans are still in motion, and soon the Brotherhood will be moving in to offer hundreds of mutants a new home in Genosha."

The glass goes back on the table as her yellow eyes move upward to Spiral's face. "I don't know you," she then says even more bluntly. "I don't trust you. You are one of hundreds of people who help the Brotherhood from a distance, you come and go and come again. You want to help me... when not five minutes ago you were bored, bored, bored?"

She snorts once, then moves to stand up, not taking the hands as she said she wouldn't. "I'm touched that you believe my slump leads many to have no hope, that you think I matter that much," she then adds, a little more soft in tone. "The Brotherhood existed before me, and with me it is stronger, but I haven't given up nor will I. It's what I live for, all I live for."

Spiral has posed:
    Four of Spiral's hands perfectly align to 'frame' Mystique in that moment. "There it is." The white haired woman says, grinning half a smile. "POWERFUL stuff!" And then she turns, spinning on a heel, to face the bar, and she lifts a pair of hands to clap twice while holding onto the yard glass in two others. "That's it. CUT! That's a wrap. Stop the recordings, and strike the set, we're all done here." She says to the room and no one is moving, though someone over at the tv she was at earlier coughs.

    "You got spunk kid. And you sitting there, nursing an old fashioned, isn't spunky." Spiral says to Raven and then blows her a kiss. "Ta." And the witch starts to walk away to the front door of the bar.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
If it was Mystique's style to be slack-jawed, she would be. Instead she stares after Spiral, unblinking. Spunk? Kid? Who the hell did that many armed mutant think she was?

Picking up the glass she considers for a moment throwing it at the woman's back as she departs. She really wanted to. The anger rising in her was enough that the glass would be first, followed by a couple of her daggers, but Spiral was Brotherhood. How or when that happened, she didn't know, and she would not be the one to break the rule of violence against members.

"Uh oh," Sascha, the bartender mutters, then very slowly starts inching himself a few steps away from where Mystique was standing. Never mind that he's technically already several feet away, he knew that look in the bosses eye.

Putting the glass back on the table, rather hard, Mystique takes one deep breath, then another, waiting for Spiral to get out of the room before she leaves and heads for the training room.

Some holograms were about to wish they'd never been created.