13461/Bar Fight

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Bar Fight
Date of Scene: 29 November 2022
Location: Broken Mug Bar
Synopsis: Remy gets himself in a right ol' pickle, but some of the X-Men arrive in time to help out. Plus there just so happens to be quite a few fighters in the bar tonight who seem to take enjoyment out of a chance to trade blows with drunken rubes! Good ol' times, and a Nerf Gun!
Cast of Characters: Remy LeBeau, Mary Jane Watson, Colleen Wing, Ariah Olivie, Scott Summers, Neena Thurman, Blake Riviere, Ororo Munroe

Remy LeBeau has posed:
The Mutant Town Massacre information had gone out online the day before Thanksgiving. Remy LeBeau wasn't a popular man in the Mutant Community because of it, and he'd elected to leave his comfy life in Westchester to get away from the guilt, and suspicion of all the Mutants he lived with there...

Why he chose to then come to Mutant TOWN, is anyone's guess, but here he is. At a backroom poker area within a dingy dive bar in said part of Brooklyn, Remy is pushing cards around at a table with some questionable looking types.

One of them sneers. "I don't trust this guy." The smaller of the 3 around Remy says as he watches the Cajun shuffle the deck of well worn poker cards. "He's up to something, I know it." The little ratty looking man says as he rocks in his chair.

"Come on now..." LeBeau says back in his thick Cajun accented English. "I put this game t'gether for all'a us. Ya don't gotta get sour just cause ya playin poorly." He says with a smile crossing his lips before he raises his glass of liquor up for another sip. He's wobbly. He's clearly intoxicated, but he's won the past four rounds of the game, and taken almost all their money....

"Besides, 'Larry', what are ya gonna do? Go back to your wife?" Remy asks, in a smarmy way since Larry's wife had recently left him with his kids.

Larry growls then. "Watch it, LeBeau, or I'll tell everyone in here who you are, and what you've done..."

Remy just smiles, and starts to deal the next hand...

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
She's not normally out in Bushwick, but she was given a courier assignment out to th earea. So taking a bus out, and then after her job was done reporting in and then wandering about to explore, Mary Jane had deferred to the part that was Sonja to take her along to something interesting. Having made a point of -not- going in with field eqiupment (she was doing a courier assignment, not a field melee), Mary Jane was wearing a hoodie with a Spider-Man logo on it and some jeans fitting for the weather. Wandering around the Sonja part of her would (of course) end up going to the nearest bar. Where Mary Jane and Sonja would have their usual discussion when it came to Sonja wanting to drink everything in the place, and MJ arguing htat she needed to be twenty one.

Colleen Wing has posed:
Colleen is sitting at the bar. She's been nursing the same glass of whisky for a half hour. There are some bruises on the back of her left hand and she doesn't use makeup to hide the beating she took advertised on her face. But it's had time to heal itself up and thanks to some magic and expert nursing there won't be any scars.

She keeps looking down in to the glass as her thoughts go back to the attack on her and her friends. The attack on the Defenders. The attackers following them to Gotham. Her mind is on Elektra.

Any dive bar would have done. Somewhere away from the usual but most importantly somewhere the Hand wouldn't dare attack. A bar full of mutants? perfect. So what if it had the reputation of a sewage clog. At least she could be out and amongst people. Though, she didn't much feel like talking today.

Her sword rests between her legs. Feet curled about it and her other free hand resting on the hilt. She's not taking anything for granted anymore. How she's supposed to get through this war with the Hand without killing is beyond her but Daredevil insisted. So did the better valour of her own demons. And that look... that look in Elektra's eyes.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah isn't normally out in Bushwick, either. The tiny woman also doesn't even seem like a mutant, but one should never judge a book by its cover, either. Still, the well-dressed girl in the long jacket and long dress certainly looks out of place in a bar like this. She's chasing ley line anomalies that seem to be running deep, and ends up, well, following a thread into the Broken Mug.

    Whether the trail is in the bar itself or somewhere nearby is irrelevant. It's not a bad place to take a pause and order a drink. Her ID checks out, at least, despite her small stature, and she patiently awaits her order while glancing towards one of the wall booths. Maybe with a seat and a sip she can focus better and figure out where the flawed conflux is.

Scott Summers has posed:
Scott Summers is, in fact, here looking for Remy. Monet suggested to him that he look to places of ill repute, shady spots where the degenerate set come out to play. That's you guys. Scott is the wholesome hero who's here to collect his broken-down scumbag of a friend and drag him home to provide some answers about all this stuff that's come to light in the last few days.

Subsequently, he's wearing a black leather jacket zipped up over his X-men uniform, flexing his gloved hands as he looks about, his crimson visor gleaming slightly in the dim, like a beacon.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino comes in from outside and walks past Colleen Wing as she makes her way up to the bar. She stands there for a moment and doesn't seem to regard anyone, until she looks over her shoulder at the infamous Remy sitting there playing cards. She looks back as the bartender asks her what the heck she wants to drink. She orders a stiff mixed drink and the bartender plops it in front of her quickly.

She picks up the little glass and downs the whole darn thing in one shot, like she's a boozer or something. She then turns around and leans back against the bar, crossing her arms, and finally looks at some of the others nearby.

Blake Riviere has posed:
It had been quite a while since Blake had been out in Brunswick, usually itself the product of a desire for an interesting night and perhaps an interesting meal, but her recent exploits had been on the 'upper' end of town. That however, seemed due for a change tonight.

The raven-haired woman was dressed in leather pants and a cropped jacket, the deep red ribbon tied into her hair matching her lips and adding to the 'look' as she made her way through.

Of course, whatever her purpose in being here, her gaze does widen a little at a few familier faces, even if it was Ariah to whom the vampiress approached.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
"Screw this." Larry says when Remy lays down his cards and has another winning hand, on his hands. "You're a damn drunken cheat, and a /murderer/, LeBeau!" Larry growls.

"Now now, Larry... I know that tone ran off your wife, but you don't gotta go usin' it with me. I don't got anywhere else t'run too." Remy counters with a sweet smile at the man who then finally snaps and throws his chair back as he rises up.

Remy's right hand dips inside his leather jacket, and yanks out a GUN!

But... It's a NERF gun. IT's blue, orange, yellow, and pink plastic. He aims it right at this 5'7" tall 'Larry' guy who just pauses, and eyes the plastic gun. "What the hell is this?" He asks. "You're a cheater, and a killer... of mutants!"

By now, Larry is shouting loud enough that most people in the bar are looking at the poker table, and most right at Larry. Larry looks back, casting his eyes around. He points. "You all know who this is?!" He shouts. "This is Remy LeBeau! The Morlock Murde---"

Remy pulls the trigger on his NERF gun, and a foam yellow bullet pops out, and hits Larry on the stomach, then falls to the floor. Larry looks down, then back up at Remy. "Cute." He snarls.

One of the men playing pool then stops, turns to the poker table and sets down his pool cue on its butt-end. "Wait, yeah. I know this guy, he got a bunch of people killed in the sewers...."

Two more people from the pool table join the first now, and they're all starting to surround Remy's table...

Colleen Wing has posed:
Colleen's eyes sweep up and over Neena as she wanders by. The chromatically challenged woman seems to have a purpose here. Colleen? well, she's just feeling sorry for herself. She gives the sword between her legs a twirl letting it dance on the tip of the scabbard like a ballerina en pointe.

The sudden shouting from the poker room has her raise her head just a little more. "Huh," she murmurs to herself. A murderer in a joint like this. Not too surprising - she supposes she technically falls in to that category. It's only self defence if you get acquitted from the charges after alll.

She knocks back the drink and slips off the stool smoothly. The sword in scabbard gripped in her left hand as her eyes look over the unusual suspects gathering. There's a feeling of violence in the air and it might be a great way to blow off some steam. No one here wants her dead after all - as far as she can tell anyway.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
The others coming in a file get Mary Jane's attention for a few moments. Some of them look familiar.. A couple definitely stand out to her if only by their uniqueness. But it's Bushwick, and -- the yelling starts as the nerf gun is fired.

Red Sonja goes to take over and grin. The redhead stands up straight and her posture changes. Growing aggressive. Tighter on the balls of her feet. Grinning manicly at the chance of something -interesting- finally happening. She has no idea who Remy is, nor what he's done, nor whomever is after him. She probably wouldn't care about the particulars if she was told them.

She's from a harsh era herself. But what she does know is that a melee is about to break out. And she's going to be a participant.

She goes to in one hand heft up one of the cheap tables of the bar, holding it up and in a hand like a discus. Then she moves to HURL it over to the wall at the other side of the bar, where it would hit, rebound, and then hopefully skid right past the table where Remy was surrounded to get attention.

"I don't care if this is a private melee, you can't be so rude as to not invite me." There she is. A redhead in a Spider-Man t-shirt with a pair of dangling gold hoop earrings grinning like a madwoman.

Scott Summers has posed:
Scott Summers can see things are getting out of hand. Fast. So he decides to cut through the chatter.

At full strength, Cyclops' optic blasts can level entire buildings. He can shatter a Sherman tank into pieces. He can hold off full-speed superhuman bricks. He's never shot a Kryptonian, but he bets they'd at least feel it.

But when he narrows the eye of his visor and concentrates his power, what he gets is a highly effective cutting laser. In this case, one that slices right through the pool table and cuts it in half.

With that statement made, he raises his voice with the volume and tenor of authority that comes from years of being an administrator of very noisy teenagers. "ENOUGH! IF GAMBIT HAS CRIMES FOR WHICH TO ANSWER, HE WILL. BUT NOT TO YOU.," he says. The X-men are not unknowns here, having intervened in Mutant Town enough times that he hopes he has the respect to pull this off. If not, keeping Remy from getting his brains bashed in his going to be good and messy.

"He's coming with us," he says, looking back over his shoulder at Ororo. "Who wants to argue?"

Ororo Munroe has posed:
A down and out dive? It fits Remy and unfortunately the rumors that have been swirling around him. Storm pushes the door open, pale eyes swiftly moving over the crowd, taking the room's temperature. Her gaze locks on Scott, who, she imagines is here for the same reason she is.

Soberly dressed in a sleek black leather jacket and pants, the tall woman moves through the crowd with the serenity of a swan swimming a lake. Head high, she nods to the students she recognizes as she squeezes through the other patrons toward her objective just in time to hear a fight erupt on one side of the room. Shades of the wild west.

Accusations fly as she arrives next to Scott, "It's going to get ugly. Do you want to take one side of the room?"

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah had just gotten her drink, too. Rum and cola with a splash of grenadine--and extra cola. Maybe she's got a sweet tooth tonight. First comes the shouting from the pool-and-poker area. And then comes Scott's voice. "...so very loud..." the small woman sighs, free hand idly rubbing at one of her temples. It's not that she doesn't recognize some of the heavy hitters in here now, being a denizen of New York, there's more the matter of... does she really want to get involved?

    Not yet, as it stands. And there's Blake, striding closer. She lifts her glass to the beautiful ravenette and sighs. "...a far cry from the Hellfire Club, non?" she greets politely, her voice thickly accented with French herself. "The timing, however, seems unfortunate."

Blake Riviere has posed:
Well, Brunswick hadn't come to disappoint Blake Riviere tonight, the vampiress' greeting of Ariah coming to a pause at the raised voices...and the sudden lasering through the table creating an audible bang as the halves hit the floor.

That might startle people into behaving...or given the bar was full of mutants? It might be the equivlent of screaming 'Who wants some?"

Exhaling a breath with a little laugh, Blake moves herself to sit on the edge of their table, biting her bottom lip with a soft chuckle as others like Mary join in.

"Quite far," she agrees with the white-haired woman, leaning down to peck Ariah's cheek. "But at least it wasn't boring!"

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino cracks her neck and glances at Colleen Wing, then over at this Red Sonja lady. As soon as the voices start getting loud and stuff starts breaking, she strides forward toward the poker table, "That's right, listen to the dweeb, stop!" she says assuredly, "Don't be a buncha redneck jackasses," she reminds them helpfully. She tries to split apart a few tough guys eyeing Remy too hard but they don't budge easy. They pull away from Domino and seem annoyed at her. She points at Remy and thumbs in the order direction. She points as if to say, 'hey idiot, back up on out of here!'

Remy LeBeau has posed:
When Red Sonja picks up the table, the bartender raises up his hands. "Wait, wait, lets chill ou---" His words are cut off by Cyclops' optic blast tearing through the bar right in to the pool table at the far end of it. The table is utterly destroyed by the kinetic energy and all eyes now turn to the guy with only one eye...

Scott's words make things get quiet. People consider their options. Some are pushed aside by Domino, some look to Colleen and Sonja, others just stare at Ororo, cause damn... she's pretty.

But the big guy, the one who approached Remy from the pool table? He just punches Remy, right in the side of his face! Remy goes flying to the east, right in to a booth where he lands on top of its table, sending drink glasses skittering to the floor where they spill their contents, and shatter!

That same big guy? He suddenly turns entirely GREY and charges at Scott! "Who made you the ref, Poindexter?!" The giant grey man says as he tries to rush Scott and tackle him!

Now chaos breaks out, and people start running for the door, or running for others who look like they want a fight! Two people grab remy and pull him off the table, to toss him in to the frey, where another tries to bump past Domino and hit Remy with a pool cue!

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Red Sonja doesn't know who everyone is, what side they're on, or what their ultimate goals are. She doesn't particularly care. The barbarian is just looking for a good, old fashioned brawl. She'll let Scott have the fun of the big man, and doesn't seem to care for getting in the way of the group that's trying to take out Remy. That's of no immediate care for the madwoman.

Red Sonja goes to launch herself in towards the nearest individual that looks like they're revving for a fight. THis isn't the old world, anyone running away is for now at least not fair game. Her fist goes to slam up and over if she can get it, going over for a cross-check across the chin. It's hopefully a setup blow for her to strike hard and have her opponent stumble backwards, then follow it up hopefully with her elbow going ot slam into their torso to send them flying! She's not striking to cripple here. Or even break bones. That might end the fight early and the maniac definitely wants to spread out the pain for as long as possible!

Colleen Wing has posed:
"Called it," Colleen says to herself replying to a thought only she could hear. The blade won't be coming out today. These people don't deserve that. But, they're also a level up from random guys getting in to a bar fight. These are random mutants getting in to a bar fight - just the kind of practice she needs to fight back against the Hand.

As one of the enraged mutants tries to charge at Neena, the black and white mutant, Colleen kicks a chair across his path and he tumbles to the floor. He jumps back upright far faster than a regular human would and turns on Colleen. With spines facing forward from his arms like stiletto daggers he punches at Colleen. She shifts back with tight foot work and brings her sword and scabbard up to block him.

Retreat retreat, twist and side kick in to the gut. He lets out a strained Oooof and stumbles back a bit. "Now you're really gunna pay for that you short piece of sh--" Colleen doesn't let him finish as she moves swiftly, jumping, dancing off of the bar edge and spinning a kick in to the side of his face.

As he drops she looks down, "You were saying?" His friend rises up from the table off to the side and tugs at his jacket smoothly as he looks Colleen up and down. It seems the friend is better equiped for a fight than this guy was.

Scott Summers has posed:
Scott Summers sighs, "Nobody ever listens to reason," he says in disappointment. As a teacher of mathematics, logic and ethics, he finds it almost physically repugnant.

He speaks to Ororo first and foremost, "Let's try not to do too much more property damage. I've already got to pay for a pool table," he says. He doesn't know this 'Lead Belly's level of ability but he can guess the level of training based on his sloppy charge. Rather than relying on his optic blasts, Scott uses the simple art of judo, angling his body low so that he can hiptoss the big man. Super strong? Welll, he's using your own strength against you, big man, so enjoy being hoisted by your own petard.

Yes, that is a word. No, it's not dirty. It's a metaphor. Read a book, heathens.

Ororo Munroe has posed:
Storm's gaze rakes a burly man with his hands clenched into fists. Wordlessly, she takes a step toward him and he reconsiders adding himself to the swirl of movement that has Remy at its center.

Voice pitched for Scott's ears, "No one will want to argue except for Remy."

The toy gun nearly earns a smile from her as she plants herself on the edge of the crowd, not far from Remy who has that look about him that tells her nothing is going to be easy this evening.

Ooooh," she breathes under her breath when he takes a fist in the side of his face.

Three quick steps take her to his assailant's side. With a twist of her hand, electricity plays between her fingers, a mini-storm held in her palm. A mini-taser for the man foolish enough to have hit Remy.

Blake Riviere has posed:
Blake herself didn't look particularly threatening, at least compared to soem of the more obvious mutations and threats here, but then again...it only took one over-excited brawler swinging in the wrong direction to find out otherwise.

One mutant headed her way, intent to drag her off her perch where she was chatting with Ariah would suddenly find her unmoveable, her eyes switching from bemused blue to deep red before she drew up her leg and kicked out, sending the poor fool hurtling across the bar and crashing down not far from Colleen of all people.

Stretching her arms over her head, there's a questioning look offered to her monochromatic opposite in Ariah before she turns back to the crowd.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino points at Remy and seems to want to say something mega snarky, but she's interrupted as people start rushing past her to get at the ultimate evil, the Remy. One of them even raises a pool cue to try to hit her too! She raises her hands and she's saved at the last moment by Colleen Wing, and the jerk topples over. She dusts her hands off and smiles, "That'll teach ya," Domino says sarcastically.

It's much too soon to celebrate because Domino is now backpedalling away from multiple big idiots. She ducks a punch from one as Colleen helpfully spins a kick to another. She elbows Colleen and says, "Watch out! There's more of em!" she explains helpfully. She clocks one and curses out loud.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "Far from boring," Ariah states quietly as the fray erupts all around her and Blake. It's as if the pair are sort of the eye of storm as the whirl of violence expands ever further to fill up the bar with shouting and combat and broken drink containers. As Blake deals with someone making grabby hands at her, the smaller woman (perhaps smallest in present company) takes the time to drink from her own glass. Pristine and full of sweet, faintly red-tinged goodness.

    That is, at least, until someone reeling from one of the more heroic-types slams into her back. She just about chokes on her drink and the contents of the glass are upturned on the counter, dripping onto her lap. "...huh.." she frowns, sighs, and grabs a napkin before patting her dress dry. Someone with a broken bottle goes for Blake only to find Ariah's fist, glowing with blue-white energy, slamming into his gut as she slides off of her seat.

    He doubles over with a sputtering cough, "Where'd YOU come from?" he hacks out and staggers. Ariah just sighs, voice cold, "...you spilled my drink..."

Colleen Wing has posed:
Colleen looks surprised when Blake sends a brawler her way. Crashing down next to her and starting to get up - she makes sure he stays down with a swift knee to the side of the head. He flops on to the floor like rag doll.

Mr. Jacket, however, carefully unbuttons his and takes it off. Neatly, he places it over the back of the chair and then unbuttons his shirt next.

The moment of interaction from Neena takes her by surprise and she nods her head, "I was hoping there would be."

Colleen lifts up a hand, "Please. This is too much. It's just a bar fight, no need to go all Kirk on us."

The man smirks and once his chest is exposed, lean and chiseled as it is, his skin suddenly starts to blur in violent colours and Colleen squints at the bright light coming from him. The shower of changing colours is hard to look at. She puts a hand up over her eyes and for the second time in as many weeks finds herself in a blind fight.

There's a lot of noise in the bar with everything going on so her reaction times are quite slow. The first fist connects even as she's moving out of the way; causing a reverberation through her head where it clips her jaw. She takes two quick steps to the left and her scabbard rises up to push away the next punch. You can't just react though when you can't see, you have to use the information you have to be proactive.

Colleen knows where one fist was, where one fist is, and thus roughly where that rock hard set of abs are. What's less rock hard is below that area. She can hear the scuff of his feet on the floor. A kick is coming. Push hands down and to the left - an opening - kick deflects she pushes in and strikes with her hand right in to his crotch.

The crazy light show suddenly ends as the man lets out a groan of pain, clutching at his family jewels and teetering on his legs as he backs away gasping for breath. Colleen lowers her hand from her eyes and gives the man a look of sympathy. "I asked nicely."

Remy LeBeau has posed:
The man with the pool cue that was about to slam it down across Remy's head is interrupted by an intervening Ororo. This leaves Remy just smiling at Storm, all drunkenly happy to see her. "Aw... Stormy. I knew ya loved m---" Remy is punched in the face again, from off to the left! He goes flying once more, stumbling toward a table, then turns around and brandishes his NERF gun once more...

Larry threw the punch. He bears down on Remy again, and this time, Remy touches the dart inside the NERF gun, causing it to glow a bright pinkish purple before he pulls the trigger, and the charged NERF dart launches out of the gun, collides with Larry's chest, and sends the mutant man flying backward in to the southern wall where he knocks down some old art mounted in picture frames...

"Scott, look out, Lead Belly is heavy!" Remy shouts, only for Lead Belly to display just how damn heavy he is when he's in his Grey Bodied Form like this! Scott's a capable fighter, to be sure, but damn is Lead Belly like a thousand pounds or something! He uses his big old meaty paws to grab Scott by his jacket and tries to toss him toward the front door! "Get outta here, Lance Armstrong!" He shouts at the X-Men Team Leader!

Red Sonja gets a weird fighter who approaches her next too, a red headed guy who grins at her like he just saw the most beautiful woman in his life. "Heya, Miss, I'm Eddie. People call me..." He snaps his hands up and a clear-shiny bubble encases them both. They're locked inside it together now. "Bubble Wrap." He says inside the dome before he tries to reach out to grab Sonja in a wholely inappropriate way. Hey, this is not a great bar, it's got sketch people in it!

Scott Summers has posed:
Scott Summers can countenance a lot of insults. He's been called stiff. Boring. A stick in the mud. Teacher's pet. A snitch. A cop (he really doesn't like that one, to be fair). A buzzkill. And almost all of it slides off his back, disregarded and dismissed.

But comparing him to a notorious cheat? That's a step too far.

Scott flies into the door, splintering the wood with his impact. He knows how to land, twisting his body mid-air to reduce impact, but it doesn't help much. He's gonna hurt tomorrow. Hell, he's hurting now.

And he's pissed.

"SCREW YOU, PAL!" Cyclops cries out, pushing up onto one knee and driving a measured but still quite potent optic blast into Lead Belly's chest, figuring his lesser girth up top makes him bottom heavy and likely to flip in very uncomfortable ways if the impact of the energy is angled just right. Which it is, of course. It's Scott.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Red Sonja has no remote qualms on someone getting up close and personal. Or where the man's hansd are going. She's had far worse. And the barbarian psychotic goes to grin. "Why thank you." She goes to then try and go for some rapid, brutal counter attacks. As he has her in a headlock she moves to slam her elbow if she can into his gut, using her enhanced strength to hopefully drive him back before he can get her in a full chokehold. Then while he's hopefully a bit too disoriented from her striking back before he can get a solid grip..

Her foot goes to stomp down over on his ankle to hopefully break it, or at least twist it as she goes to try and use this to wrench herself fully free from his grip. Hopefully even if he blocks or dodges her blows it means that he has to release her to focus on defending himself. She goes to follow it up and over with an attempted brutal punch to send him staggering away from her.

"I find your lack of strength pathetic, little man. Go bother weaker prey."

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino seems content to let Colleen do her magic and kickass, punch and take out those nearby, "I am supposed to keep count?" she asks Colleen and smiles.

Like a wall, nobody is getting through them---through Colleen--- to get to Remy, not today anyway! "How's that move work?" she wonders and kicks a random bar patron in the crotch, sending him down for the count. She leans forward and squints across the bar toward Blake as bodies flop nearby, "Hey, are we getting jackasses mail order now?" she wonders snarkily, "I say we return to sender," she nods affirimatively, hauling the victim off the floor and spinning him back toward Blake. More of them land on the floor from Colleen and Red Sonja though and she sighs.

Ororo Munroe has posed:
"Love me, do you Remy?"

The room whirls like a tornado with Remy at its center. A thousand-pounder floats by headed in Scott's direction. Likely the Grey Man will regret it though she'll keep an eye on him.

Moe, Larry's friend suddenly gets brave and picks up another cue to play pool with Remy, the hard way. Concentrating on hitting Remy he doesn't see Storm's pale eyes glimmer as she sweeps her arm in a scooping motion at the pool table. Pool balls of all colors lift in the air, orbiting around each other in a tide of deadly asteroids that she aims at the unlucky Moe's head.


They hit the side of his head in rapid fire and he goes down like a sack of potatos.

Colleen Wing has posed:
It's certainly a day of 'who the hell are these people?' for Colleen as a young woman who looks exactly like her steps up in front of her for a go. She moves in and Colleen defends with a free hand, which the woman copies. They begin a dance, a mirrored dance, as the doppelganger does the exact thing Colleen does.

"I'm Mirror, by the way," she states matter of factly to Colleen, "I can copy every move you make - you cannot defeat me."

Colleen's eyelashes flutter a moment and she wonders just how far that copying goes. But truth be told it does not take her long to realise that 'mirror' is an idiot. A huge idiot with a superiority complex.

"Huh...," Colleen says and steps back watching her mirror do the same. She lifts up her sword hand and points the scabbard toward her - then thrusts.

Her current and strange adversary Mirror lifts up her hand, turns it, and thrusts in to nothing with nothing as she gets hit square in the face with a sword scabbard butt. Stumbling back her form shimmers back to a small woman with mousy brown hair. She looks a little shocked and turns to flee when some big guy accidentally elbows her in the head.

"I have to admit," she murmurs to herself - or perhaps to the ears of Neena, "This bar lives up to its reputation." As a shit hole where people get in to scraps constantly.

"And counting wouldn't hurt. But it's not a competition - I'm sure you'd win." She assumes (correctly) that these people are mostly mutants. Some people might even recognise her now that she's moving about and fighting. This is Colleen Wing after all, a member of The Defenders. She does not have a secret identity.

This truth is evident on the face of the very very big man covered in all kinds of tattoos who turns with fists up to face Colleen. He lowers them and looks sheepishly at her, "Oh. Ah. Sorry Sensei Wing. Training still on Thursday night?"

Colleen nods her head to the big man, "Yes. See you there Theodore." He rubs the back of his neck and turns away to find someone else to try and punch.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah slams the one she'd gut-punched in the side of the head with her other fist before he can shout further at her. "This is a more eventful night than I had expected it to be, mon amour," she states to her sire as her other arm still blazing with blue-white energy. She's certainly outed herself as... something. The runes etched in her bones glow as she flexes those fingers. Just in time for Neena to fling someone right back towards the two of them.

    "Would you... kindly not?" she asks in Neena's direction as she sweeps her arm and hurls a soft-ball sized sphere of that same bright energy at the oncoming body. There's a loud -THOOM- as it detonates and sends him straight up to smash into the ceiling and crash back down on the floor. The little witch's mismatched eyes start to glow, silver and purple being overtaken by the same glowing blue-white hue.

    Either she's gotten people to back off of her and her companion, or she's just sounded the dinner bell.

Blake Riviere has posed:
Ariah's interception of the bottle headed her way earns a little peck on the cheek for the mage before she smiles and stands, hands snapping out to intercept a literally stone-fisted swing at the back of her head before she pivots and kicks out. She -could- use literal tons of force, but mutant didn't mean super resilience, so she simply sweeps out with her leg and tosses the man upwards -into- the roof, leaving a sizable dent.

Bar brawls like this? It was the 80's all over again!

Still, the vampiress turns as Ariah throws out her burst of energy, a delighted little laugh from the raven-haired woman.

"Admit it, part of you is having fun."

Remy LeBeau has posed:
Lead Belly is grinning ear to ear at Scott's reaction to getting thrown through the doorway. "You're sturdier than ya look, String Bean." He chides Cyclops more. "In fact, I might even say---" BAM OPTIC BLAST!

Lead Belly is staggered backward, sent back in to the bar where he slams in to the side of it, and sends several stools flying like bowling pins, landing in a heap on the floor at the base of the bar, causing the brass hand grip to come loose and clunk down against the top of his bald head. His mutation shunts off too, and his skin tone returns to a more normal pale white.

Red Sonja's actions result in Eddie 'Bubble Wrap' to suddenly scream out a blood curdling cry of having his ankle stomped on and broke in to multiple bone shards within his skin covering it where the barbarian woman stomped!

Remy ends up behind Colleen and Domino, he stands between them, just over their shoulders, holding his NERF gun aimed upward now. "Ladies." The Cajun says with a smarmy smile for them both. "Are ya'll defendin' me? I feel so charmed..."

"LeBeau!" Larry shouts, trying to hoist himself up off the ground. "LeBeau, you murderin' son of a bitch!" Larry states, back on his feet as he sees the people who came to Remy's rescue taking care of most of the others around the pool and poker room... which is surprising to him. He strokes his hand across his chin to streak some blood off on to the back of his knuckles and then starts to hobble toward the front door. "I ain't gonna forget this!" Larry shouts on his way, glaring back at Remy as he passes by Ariah and Blake, the bloodied man growling at both of them to get out of his way!

Remy just staggers over to his original table where he picks up what is left of his drink, and raises it up to take a big swig of it all. He drops the glass on the floor then, and reaches for his pile of money he'd won. "Domino, you're a doll, through an' through." The Cajun says to her as he stuffs that money in to his pocket, his eyes now on Colleen, and her skills. He whistle something. "I dunno who dat one is, but she nice... I glad she not mad at me." He looks to Domino then. "She not mad at me, is she?" He has to ask her next, before his eyes go to Ororo.

Remy just smiles brightly at Storm, and offers her a bit of a love poem spoken in French before he looks to Scott. "Ya'll didn't come all the way down t'Mutant Town for lil' ol' Remy, did ya?"

Behind the bar? The bartender raises up a double barreled shotgun. "Everyone! Stop! Get the hell out, or get back to buyin' drinks!" He announces, aiming the gun up at the ceiling!

Neena Thurman has posed:
"It's a shit hole with a buncha shit holes, what do you expect?" Domino lets out and seems amused by her comment, but she doubles her efforts to punch more than Colleen (or try to). "It's not a competition!" she yells, "Hey you, who are you?!" she asks and BA-DAMN! Punched! "Hey look over there!" and then BA-DOOM! Chop in the Adam's apple!

As the roof bits collapses down toward her, Domino is just lucky enough to step back out of the way, "Hey---" she wonders, looking at the mess. She squints at Ariah. She glances around for Colleen, "What are you doin over there, resting?" she chuckles.

Colleen Wing has posed:
"Charmed?," Colleen says peering at the man with the nerf gun. She thumbs over to Scott. "I assume he's a cop and he's here to arrest you so I was just helping him out. That's a lie. Anyone who is good at spotting lies can tell that. No, she literally came to a bar known for its brawling to get in a bar fight.

Speaking of helping Scott out - it does seem like he did come to take the trouble maker away. She turns toward him, "So how about you surrender to the man with the fancy eyewear before we have to get personal about it."

Sure, she came looking for a fight - and found one - but she's still a Defender and this guy is accused of murder. The expression of fun isn't on her face. She still looks like she's been through a hell of a war recently. Which she has. No, she kinda looks serious about this whole Remy surrendering thing.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
The Remy Rescue Party goes on as Red Sonja goes to get her beat on. She's enjoying herself, even as Bubble Wrap would be let to disengage. Her had scuttered away before her. She goes to face over with another adversary that had a face like a cockroack, scales like a carapace folded over him. Jaws going to chitter at her as he would wave up a pincer a ther in a 'I've got you babe' invitation to brawl.

Red Sonja would sneer, "I have faced many, and few ugl--"
    Her opponent going to swing two (of four) insectoid limbs together to give her a brutal uppercut, wings going to snap from his back to rapidly flap to give him an extra spin while spiked feet would dig into the floor to anchor him for a classic Shyrouken. "Well, now you're faced with Bugly." The uppercut goes to send her flying through the air, where she hits the ground hard. Right in time for Bugly to leap and hit her in the stomach with a hard jump strike.
    Sonja forces herself up and goes to strike at him, it being deflected hard over on 'Bugly's carapace. "Sorry, meat skin. Really sucks to be you right now." An armored limb going to whack her hard on the head, sending her sailing -far- over across the bar, towards the entry door, and out onto teh street as she's the first one that's defenstrated this night in an explosive array of glass!

Scott Summers has posed:
Scott Summers turns and yells after the departing Larry, "That's surprising, because your inability to comprehend English makes me think you have brain damage. This is all your fault, dick," he says.

Then he turns and levels his gaze at Remy, currently behind Domino and Colleen, "Remy, you owe us some explanations. You owe everybody explanations. But I think you owe them to us first. We have vouched for you. We have stood by you. We have believed in you, sometimes in spite of your own behavior," he says. "Nothing can be made right without an accounting. Come back with us. If you have been wronged, we will make it right. If you had a hand in this..." he says, shaking his head as he thinks back to the Massacre. He was there, after all. At least in the bloody aftermath. "Then we'll deal with you far more fairly than the mob."

Neena Thurman has posed:
"Yep, wall of power over here, Cajun. WALL. That's right. You're so spoiled," Domino reports amusedly, pointing to the ground where she stands and where Colleen used to be. She dusts her hands off, "I think we got it covered," she adds as the bartender interrupts to clear everybody out.

"You heard em, clear out! Yeaaa-AH! Get on jackasses, GET ON!" she says, imitating a cowboy rustling something, "That's right! He's got a shotgun aimed at yer asses!" she points out helpfully, "Get on back!"

Ororo Munroe has posed:
"Language!" Storm chides the students as she whirls in a pirouette, elbow at the ready to slam into the solar plexus of Moe's friend who has joined the fray. He folds up like a chair and joins his friend on the floor.

"Alors, Remy," she pouts her lips elaborately as his friends and teachers gang up on him. "C'est strictement de l'amour platonique. You need to come with us before we destroy the place."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah squints over at Neena, but it doesn't look like she's going to engage. "Target rich environment," she states, simple and chilly, before the literal greaseball tries to push past her and Blake. She recognizes the voice, and it isn't difficult math as Scott yells at the man too. "Non," she states simply at the growl and reaches her small hand up to grab the front of his shirt. Icky texture aside, she grasps, yanks, and slams her head right into Larry's forehead with enough force to put a crack in concrete.

    Regardless of the state of Larry's skull, Ariah finds herself more perturbed at the splash of greasiness that just... gets everywhere. She releases, letting body slump to floor as necessary, and reaches her at least clean hand into a fold in her jacket. She lays a tenbux on the counter for the bartender, and looks to Remy, Scott, and Ororo. "...he started it."

    Then the small woman (who almost looks related to Ororo?) looks down at her now-greasy self and exhales a long-suffering sigh before glancing over to Blake. "...I am returning home. I require a bath. And. I may need to burn these clothes."

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
As Larry's head goes to be on the receiving end of 'Just Beat It' someone goes to scurry out of the way. A middle aged looking man that was a bit stodgy, a bald spot on his head, wearing a cheap polyester leisure suit and some clearly fake bling that had been interrupted while trying to introduce himself to a girl that had just grown fangs.
    "Hi, I'm Larry, Larry Laf--" even as she would go to snap at him.
    "Woah, don't bite me that much! You can just ask, there's plenty of Larry to go around! But ulp, what nice teeth you have!" Even as he would go to scurry around, wildly ducking out of the way while going to race around the room while the non-Blake fanged lady chased him.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
With the Bartender laying down an ultamatum, most of the bar is clearing out now, those remaining on their feet are not wanting to pick any more problems, and those not on their feet are being helped up by those that they came with tonight. "Come on..." the two guys that Lead Belly came with say as he's helped up to his feet. "You got a class to teach tomorrow, Phillip." One of them says to the big guy... who was apparently a teacher, named Phillip.

Remy is about to speak to Scott when he sees Larry get head butted by Ariah, this makes the Cajun laugh loudly and he offers a thumbs up to her. "Good one, Boo." He says to the small vampiric woman. The Cajun's black and red eyes then dart around to Scott, Storm, Domino, and Colleen too. "Ah...." He starts to say, his hand reaching up to stroke his bruised chin, the stubble getting thick there. "I ain't goin' back, Scotty." Remy says. "I gotta clear my name'a this bullshit patooty." He says before rubbing his hand over the side of his face where he got clocked twice. "Plus, it too nice'a place for me t'call home. Ya'll better off without me. Rogue better off without me too. I bring da hurt down on people." He states, motioning around the bar. "Dis place is a big ol' shining beacon'a dat fact, loud an' clear, no?"

Remy fishes around in his jacket pocket and pulls out some of that wad of cash again. He speaks to the bartender, ordering a whisky.

His eyes dart back to Scott and Storm then. He smiles at Storm, then shakes his head. "Not plutonic t'me, Chere." He says back at her before his drink arrives and he tosses some of it down in another gulp. A wince later and he coughs just a bit. "Much appreciatin' ya all comin' this far down t'find me though, but... what they said? What they claim I did? I gotta find out who released that, and make them pay. Cause it only part'a the truth. It ain't all the truth, and it made t'paint Remy in a picture that ain't got the right colors, ain't got the whole picture."

He's still drunk, don't forget that part either.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Hurled out of the bar, Red Sonja isn't quite back up and on her feet as most of the others are going to file out in quick rows or lines. The bruised redhead is hissing at the denial of more of a melee.. But the place has emptied and there's not as much fun attempting to charge and beat up random people on the street. She's going to notch this one up as a loss for having only had a few minutes of prime beat time. So it's with a surly look that she goes to pick herself up off the pavement, spit out some blood and part of a tooth from where she had impacted, and grouse to go and pick herself up while making eye contact with no one in particular as most of the mutants would see mto depart.
    Her going along with them as her body would soften up and much of the open lashing and aggression would fade away. "I don't care -how- much you enjoy it, it's my body and that hurts." She would softly complain, speaking aloud over in a whisper that could be readable on her lips. And so Mary Jane would start to slowly and bruisedly walk away.

Scott Summers has posed:
Scott Summers seems to let a little tension out of his shoulders. Yes, Remy was a notorious deceiver and could have been lying to his face. But Scott had to trust that the work they'd done the last few years wasn't for nothing. That Gambit was an X-man, down deep.

"I understand the urge to solve your own problems. But your messes are our messes. That's what it means to be part of a team, Gambit."

"You don't have to come back with us. You're a grown man. But you need to keep us in the loop and let us help you. The ripples of this are going to impact us, one way or another. And I'm sure a lot of friends you have back there want to here from you directly that the accusations aren't true. But. I suggest you come back with us for tonight. Sleep it off, get some rest without watching your back. If you still want to leave in the morning...fine. But I get up earlier than you and I'll be waiting with a cup of coffee and some doughnuts if you want to give an explanation. Or at the last talk to the Professor. Or Jean. Or anyone."

He sighs, looking back at Ororo and then back at Remy. "Come home, man. Just for tonight."

Colleen Wing has posed:
Colleen sees the state of the place. The trouble makers leaving and Remy well and truly cornered by these mutants who seem to have his best interests at heart. She raises an eyebrow and scoops up an overturned chair off the floor. Placing it in front of the bar she sits back down and taptaps her finger to the bar top.

"Another please," she asks of the bartender who looks like he's about to have a conniption. Still, he pours her one out and she smiles, "Appreciated." Her eyes return to staring in to the amber liquid. She has too much on her mind and for a brief moment it was pushed aside. That was a good respite from the mess she and her friends are in.

Finally, her phone comes out and she scrolls through her contacts list. There, she selects 'Duplicitous Bastard' and starts to write out an SMS message:
    "I need to talk"

There is a pause for a while and then the ... begins to animate. There's a reply.
    "The 7th ampitheatre. Just you, no one else. -B"

She immediately feels sick in her stomach and not just from the blow she took to the jaw in the fight. Betraying herself like this. Contact him of all people. Her former mentor and substitute father figure. Bakuto of The Hand. She knocks back the whisky hard this time.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino pats her Leifeld pouches down maybe looking for a smoke, "Don't be an idiot, Cajun. They don't want you to go," she tells him helpfully and rolls her eyes. She helps Storm and Colleen or whoever clean up a bit then walks back to the bar. She sighs and grabs a drink from the bartender, buying one for Colleen or Ariah or whoever is near, "Hey I'm starting a nice streak, who wants a drink?" she asks.

Blake Riviere has posed:
The splash and gross soaking of Ariah...well, it's not really quite so funny. Indeed, she too whinces and digs into her pocket, adding a 'tip' of her won as things start to wind down. Adjusting her jacket and lifting a napkin to brush off her knuckles the 'Actually Blake fanged' lady exhales a soft sympathetic chuckle and extends a hand to Ariah, a little nod offered as those eyes shift back from red to blue.

"I believe the party is over anyway, let us get you cleaned up."

With that, the 'Draculina' and her companion were likely headed for the door.

Ororo Munroe has posed:
After exchanging a meaningful look with Scott, she says to Ariah, "We'll be along shortly. All of us needing a shower." Storm narrows her eyes at Remy, "Some of us a cold one."

Joining him at the bar, she leans on it next to him, saying reasonably, "We all want you to be clear of any wrong doing, cher Remy. You put more hurt on us by not coming home. Listen to the ones who care for you.""

Behind her back, she flexes her fingers and cups them to hold a swirling ball of electrical energy. Storm has never known the man to be long on reason, but long on emotions. Forcing someone on the team against their will sits badly with her. The electricity roils in her palm as she hesitates to stun him.

Ever the reasonable one, she lets Scott's words sit, hoping they will penetrate.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "I will take one for the road," Ariah accepts the offer for another drink. Not that it's much. She had hers spilled after all. Just the rum and cola and red sweetness, which she downs in one go. "Merci," she says quietly to Neena. Ororo is given a nod as well while Blake fusses over her.

    "Merci," she then states to her taller companion, taking that hand carefully. She doesn't want to get disgusting mutant greasy goo all over her sire, after all! "My errand can wait until another time. This is not the correct location." Mismatched eyes sweep over Remy and the rest once more, lips pursed in a ghost of a frown. But they seem like alright sorts. Off into the night with Blake she would go.

Remy LeBeau has posed:
While the others talk, Remy starts to organize his person some. Cards fall out of his sleeves, he sets his nerf gun down on the bar top, a plastic frog gets set down next to it, along with a replica Star Trek communicator. He pauses to take another drink of his whiskey before he glances over at Domino to watch her when she places orders. She gets a smile from the Cajun, whilst he shakes his head now at what Scott, and Storm say.

"Can't." Remy tells them. "Want. But can't." He adds, piling up the cards next to his other toys atop the bar.

"Whomever put dat message out there, they drawn me outta that safe space ya'll crafted up'n Westfield." Westchester, Remy, it's called Westchester.

"Ya see, dats da thing. What happened that night was my fault, but dey implying I knew what would happen. Dat's where it all goes down to brown town, ya see? It what I gotta fix..." He says with a heavy sigh, before finally finding his rumpled up pack of cigarettes. He pulls it out, gets one of the last two cigarettes pulled out, and then lights the tip with a flash of purple energy from his fingertip.

"Maybe I go back with ya t'your castle some day. But dat day is not this day... I sorry, Scotty, I sorry, Ororororoo--" He never was great at saying her real name. "--but I gotta find da person who put dat message out, and get the rest'a the story out too."

With a final sigh, he puffs on his cigarette and looks around the bar. "This a nicer place than I thought it would be..."

Neena Thurman has posed:
Neena Thurman buys a drink for Ariah, "Hey hey, don't go yet," she interrupts her and makes sure she gets a replacement drink for what she spilled. She then drinks hers as she watches the dramatics like she's at the movies. She looks down at the rumpled cigarettes sadly. She then puts down her own glass.

Scott Summers has posed:
Scott Summers sighs and nods, "As I said, that's your choice to make," he says. "I wish you good luck. And just so you know - we're going to help you whether you like it or not," he says.

"Come on, Storm," he says, punching the team communications channel, "I need to track the source of an electronic transmission. Somebody get me Shadowcat."