16274/Checking In On Mystique

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Checking In On Mystique
Date of Scene: 07 November 2023
Location: Mystique's Office
Synopsis: Victor stops in to check on Raven after the attack on the asteroid, the talk a bit, flirt a bit, and drink beer.
Cast of Characters: Raven Darkholme, Victor Creed
Tinyplot: No Good Deed


Raven Darkholme has posed:
Just two days ago the station on Asteroid M had been attacked by a group of mutants calling themselves For the Cure. Numerous mutants were injured and being tended in Medbay, many more were killed, and all over the belief that being a mutant made you a freak.

Mystique was not one-hundred percent. She had broken numerous ribs, her left thigh bone, and even a bone in her face, not to mention the concussive damage to her muscles and skin. As if that were not enough, she had also been burned over forty percent of her body. Initial reports has played down the damage of course, though those who were members of the Brotherhood had the whole picture, but most of them also knew that over the course of her life, Mystique had developed self healing. It was no where near as effective as Victor or Logan's, but given time and rest, she would make a full recover. The problem was and would always be the 'giving it time and rest' part.

Sitting in her office, red hair pulled up away from her still slightly scaly skin, she wore a plain loose fitting white summer dress. The signs of the burns were a great deal less, from third to second degree, but she showed no signs of pain or of slowly down.

Victor Creed has posed:
While Victor Creed knew well just how hard it was to do significant and lasting damage to Mystique, he was also present at the conclusion of that fight and saw first hand just how much damage she had sustained. He was frustrated that he had not been able to get his hands on the perpetrator. Although in truth, he had run his claws through so many of their opponents en route to finding Mystique it is entirely possible that he disemboweled them without realizing it. He had not been in a pleasant mood from the moment his bar had been exploded in a blast that should have killed him. That definitely killed some of his drinking mates.

And his favorite bartender, which is what pissed him off the most. Good bartenders were hard to find.

Victor is not known for a man who pays attention to etiquette and courtesy, so to many it might be a surprise that he actually knocks upon the door to Raven's office instead of simply walking in and taking a seat.

But there were also very few people alive who commanded any respect from him at all. Let alone the amount that he held for the leader of the Brotherhood.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Looking up at the door, Mystique's yellow eyes focused at the distances even as H&D were telling her was at the door. Sometimes it paid to have eyes everywhere, other times it could be a royal pain the butt.

Sitting back in her executive chair, she took a deep breath to ensure she was calm, then called out, "Come in Victor."

Once he entered, he found her already indicating the large comfortable looking chair on the other side of the desk with one hand, and the mini-bar with fridge with the other hand. He could choose the order in which he acted.

Victor Creed has posed:
As if there were a question. Victor retrieves a beer from the mini-bar before walking over and flopping into the chair with the sort of aggressive movement that makes one wonder how any furniture survives his use.

"Good to see you talking." He pulls open the beer and takes a quick swig. "Looked a bit dicey there. Thought I was going to have to find a new favorite smurf."

And then he is draining the rest of the beer, wasting little time.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique smirks over the Smurf comment as she corrects him with, "Queen Smurf, thank you very much."

Collecting her cup of coffee of the desk, she takes a sip. She always has the mini-fridge stocked, and when it does empty out, more alcohol is just a phone call away. "I didn't see it coming," she then states bluntly in a rare moment of sharing. Usually she would come up with a hundred reasons for how it all occurred without protection or prevention, this time however was different. "I never expected mutants to attack, or to be their primary target."

Victor Creed has posed:
"Of course, Your Highness," replies Victor, tipping his head down and making a small little gesture with his fingers that might somewhat resemble what a bow might be in a movie, but really is hardly close.

"Can't see everything." He reaches up to scratch at the side of his nose as he extends out to set his feet on her desk, leaning back into the comfortable chair. "Although, gotta tell you, didn't surprise me. We've always been our own worst enemy." He snorts a bit. "Which is a shame, because no one else could ever really touch us if we weren't."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
If it were anyone else, the foot on the desk would earn them a yellowed eyes glare, but this was Victor. Mystique eyed the foot once then took another sip of her coffee.

"I usually see everything, and what I don't see the twins see," she comments with a snort. "I wasn't looking at mutants, so I didn't see it coming. Humans, aliens, all those super hero types, I have my eyes on all of them, but not mutants."

Her eyes narrow, not at him as she is presently looking at one of the monitors on her desk. "We shouldn't be attacking each other, and yet here we are. Clearly this group is hell bent on their agenda, which... if I say so myself... was painful."

Victor Creed has posed:
Certainly, no one else would even dare to put their feet on her desk.

Victor nods as Mystique laments her lack of precognition, and declines to comment too much on that. No need to rub salt in those wounds. "Guess it's time to start keeping an eye on our own." He shrugs a bit, twisting to look around the room before turning his gaze back to her. "Yeah. Painful." He reaches down to scratch at his side. He is totally healed, of course, but the memory of a destroyed lung and rib cage is still lingering. He might heal from anything, but he certainly also feels all of the pain. Which could explain the grumpiness.

"You got anyone set up to try to infiltrate them, or do you think we're all made?"

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Looking up from the monitor, Mystique's eyes remain slightly narrowed. "I can't find them," she states with some anger breaking through. "I have contacts all over the world, my hand in hundreds of pots, allies from organizations that used to hunt us all down and I cannot find them."

Setting the cup down, she folds her arms across her chest and instantly regrets it. The only sign of the pain is a brief flicker in her eyes. "Even if I could locate them, they have a telepath who would make us, if we aren't already made." She snorts, distracting herself from physical pain by focusing on the anger. "The only way we could possibly infiltrate is by finding someone willing to basically be mind fucked to not even know they are information gathering."

Victor Creed has posed:
There is a long moment where Victor watches Raven. Seeing the frustration on her face. That powerless expression, so atypical of her.

"Who you got to fuck me?" The offer comes easily enough.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Raven was so intent in her thinking that it took her a moment to realize what he said. Blinking a few hundred times she shakes her head, "Oh no, no, no... I am not handing them my most powerful weapon Victor, not happening. You are always the ace in the hole to be dropped into combat to end it for the protection of everyone else, to send you there, mind fucked or not, would be like Christmas, Halloween and their birthday's all in one."

Victor Creed has posed:
"That's exactly why it's your best chance at having it work." Victor pulls his feet from her desk and sits up straight, leaning forward, elbows on knees. "They won't buy if you send some scrub, and they're as likely to just kill 'em than risk it. But me? Having me show up, with whatever the fuck story you cook up. I'm angry, I'm spurned, whatever. Make it hard for them to recruit me, maybe, but they do. They'd eat that shit up. Probably put my on their damn posters."

He looks around for a moment before locking his gaze back with Mystique. "Put some sort of mental block so I can't take out anyone important. And make me a full on sleeper." He grins. "Imagine the chaos if you unlock me behind their lines."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
There is a part of Raven that really likes the idea, the sparkle in her eyes is clear indication of that. There is also the part that loaths it so entirely that as he sits forward, her eyes narrow every so slightly. She's not one to throw a plan away however, so even as she sits there hating it, she offers a slight nod.

"I'll consider it," she offers. "It would require Emma I think," she twitches slightly. "Or I may be able to ask Xavier, so long as we make it clear this isn't about storming the castle and murdering everyone."

Victor Creed has posed:
There is a marginal expression of disappointment to hear that murdering everyone is not on the table, but Victor nods as Raven seems willing to entertain it. "You just gotta promise me that I can get out of whatever mind shit it is. If they find a way to kill me, fine. But I don't wanna get stuck one of their stooges."

He reaches up to scratch at his cheek again. "And if I'm gonna be fucked, throw me a bone and let it be Emma at least." He flashes a hungry grin.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Raven is still letting part of her mind spin the idea around, playing the pros and cons over and over again, and really disliking every part of it.

"If Emma is capable of completely and totally rewriting your thinking, then Emma's the best choice," she admits, once again collecting her coffee. "And whatever she does would have to be utterly undetectable, because this enemy is ripping memories out of his people's minds to conceal the information of where they are, and how they are training, who the leaders are. That means they'll be in your head as well Victor, and there's no way of knowing what they might do while in there."

Victor Creed has posed:
"How many of us died, Raven?" Victor is not usually one to care about such things. Perhaps it was the sheer magnitude of the attack. Or just the disrespect of bringing it to his home.

"Who do you trust more than me?" He laughs. "Tell me there is a tougher sonofabitch around who could fight back against whatever the fuck they would do out of sheer stubbornness, and you can send him instead."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The coffee goes back on the desk as Raven stands up slowly... it is only slowly because she has to be careful. Walking around the desk she settles herself in the chair beside Victor's, all the while watching his face.

"There are very few people I actually trust in this world Victor, you know that, just as you know you are one of them." Reaching over, she lays her hand on his arm for a moment, gives it a light squeeze then takes her hand back. "There is no one else tougher, meaner, more dedicated, and quite frankly angrier and clawier than you. Hand down, you win that award."

A soft sigh escapes her. "I don't question your loyalty, trust or ability, I question what the insane fucker running this group will do... but honestly, this is all moot at this time. We need to talk to Emma and find out if she can even do it, and if she can, can it be undetectable."

Victor Creed has posed:
The eyes of the ultimate predator follow Mystique around as she takes the other seat. He cannot help it, it is simply Victor's way. He does not come further at ease when she grips his arm. If anything, his body grows more tense, coiled as if ready to strike at any moment. Permanently in a state of fight or flight, and Victor Creed has never fled a fight in his life.

"No one's better suited to come back from whatever he does. You know that too. Other than Xavier's pet runt, no one's had their head fucked with more than mine. And I always find my way back."

He looks up to Raven. "I could give a shit about the cause," he says, and perhaps he may be honest when he says that. "But I'll always find my way back to you."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Raven was completely aware of Victor's usual state, fight or fight, thus she kept her touch to a minimum. She always wished there was a way she could help him relax, but it was a part of who he was, what made him who he is. To change that would be changing the man, and that was just plain not something anyone should do.

A smile touches her lips as he is bluntly honest, a truth she has always known. The cause was about as important to him as a light beer, but friendship and trust hard earned never went away. She felt the same way. "I know you are capable of coming back, I know you could handle anything that came your way," she says softly, wanting to offer another reassuring touch but she kept her hand to herself this time.

"I know that come hell or high water, flood, famine, meteor hitting the earth, you'll come back. The question here isn't you, it's me, it's whether or not I can ask you to do this and not feel like I've sent you into the wolves den," she raises a hand to stop him from responding at that moment. "Yes, you would kill all the wolves and use their pelts to decorate your walls, but this is a little different. This is asking you to /be/ the enemy to gather intel... that is usually my job, so I know how it feels."

Victor Creed has posed:
There's nothing that helps Victor relax short of acts of carnage or carnal. Which was part of what made him such a deadly weapon. And not much beyond that, at least to most. Raven was one of the few who actually saw him as anything more, although he was not sure whether she was the one who was wrong.

He does open his mouth to retort, but he respects the raise of her hand, and stays silent.

"I'll make you a deal. You tear the spines out of a few mother fuckers while I'm out fucking around as a spy, we'll call it even." His lips twist into a fanged grin. "Less you wanna keep score and see if I can be a better spy than you can be a slice and dice."

This time, it is Victor's turn to reach out with a hand, moving it out and placing it on her thigh. "You don't have to do everything yourself, Blue."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The smile on Raven's face broadens as he touches her thigh, once again a move that if anyone else did would likely end in bloodshed... or someone going out an air lock. "That's so unfair," she retorts with a soft chuckle. "You know I can't rip out spines, just severe them." She offers a fake pout that is so obviously unreal that she can't maintain it and start laughing.

Collecting herself she clears her throat a little. "I'll speak with Emma," she finally says, giving in to the idea. "If she says she can do it, then we'll move to stage two of operation clawspy."

Victor Creed has posed:
Much like on Victor himself, there are few who would not be frightened to see a smile on Raven's face. Victor shows no fear, and laughs in response to her comment. He pats her thigh in an almost patronizing way. "Oh, I'm sure you can find some creative ways to work it out."

He nods, sitting back in the seat now, withdrawing his hand as Raven finally agrees. Not about to try to push his luck. Neither of them wants to compete to see who is deadlier. "Just make sure the last stage is a warm welcome home. If you leave me out there in the cold, I'll come back as your worst nightmare."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Raven's expression goes serious, a mask slipping into place as perfectly as the sun rises. "You know damn well I would never leave you out there," comes her reply touched with both her usual authority and disgust over the idea that he would even think that. "I would tear that planet apart to get you back, and when you get back where you belong... here, on this asteroid, there will be a party filled with alcohol, music and all the pretty girls you could want."

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor snorts at that, his grin showing that he was well aware of that, and his amusement at having pressed her buttons so effectively. He shrugs at her talk of a party, settling back deeply into the chair as those fangs make their reappearance with his grin. "Give me the alcohol and the music, and /one/ girl who can be all the pretty ones I might want, and you got yourself a deal."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
For the briefest of moment Raven is angry with herself for falling into his trap. She had buttons, many knew them, but usually she could contain herself and not show her cards. In this particular case, she showed her cards and that ticked her off.

Her response? She slapped him, flat hand, in the arm, snorted at him with narrow eyes and then nearly fell against him laughing. He won, fair and square. That didn't mean she liked it, but she would in fact admit to it.

"Alcohol, music and one girl who is all the pretty ones wrapped into one? That's an interesting challenge, it's very hard to find another me," she comments after regaining herself, offering up a coy grin now. "Blonde, red head, brunette, or do you lack a preference regarding hair color?"

Victor Creed has posed:
Accepting his victory without gloating, Victor simply grins back at her, a brief nod all the acknowledgement he sends her way of her admission. They do not really need to keep track. If they did, he would likely be the loser, and he hates losing.

"Oh, I imagine that you'll be all healed up enough by the time I finish whatever I gotta do down there." He returns her grin. "Wouldn't be a great idea if you weren't, of course. You'd have to be at the top of your game." He considers her question for a moment. "Doesn't matter, still wouldn't have better hair than me."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Standing up, once again slowly, Raven walks to the fridge to grab another beer for Victor, and one for herself. She returns to the seat while offering him one, then just takes a moment to breath. She heard him wrong as the two topics slammed together in what he said, and for a moment she let herself remember Germany... but only a moment.

"I'll be back to fighting ready in a week, maybe ten days," she replies, then opens her beer to take a drink. "These... scales. This isn't the first time this happened. After the radiation soak in China this happened, then they faded away. I assume they will fade away again this time."

Now that her head was safely out of the gutter, she continued with the other topic, "No, no one can have better hair then you. If I wasn't worried about losing a limb, I'd pet that hair its so perfect, and that's saying something."

Victor Creed has posed:
Accepting the beer, Victor seems like he can sense something in Raven. What it could possibly be, if it were not somethihng affected anyway designed to confuse him, he could not hazard a guess at. That he had sired a child with her under the guise of another would have been the last thing he would have thought of, and so he allows that moment to fade without attaching any meaning to it at all.

His eyes take in the scales now that she has called attention to them, and he shrugs again. "Nothing wrong with them. Kinda cute, if you ask me. Makes you look like a dragon or some shit." He pours half of the beer down his throat.

"Damn straight." He flashes a grin. "I dunno, they grow back, right? Might be worth it." He keeps his eyes on her as he finishes off the can.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Raven was going to take another drink of her beer, but his comment catches her off guard and makes her chuckle almost darkly. "You're limbs grow back," she states with a touch of mirth to her tone. "I don't think mine do, but still... It might be worth it."

She didn't mean to be flirty, but it may be coming off that way so she switches back to the scales. "Dragon or some shit... that is so poetic Victor, you... move me to keep them." This is all said perfectly flat, with a straight face, and no intonations at all. She manages to get through it before a demure smile plays on her lips and she adds, in the same flat tone, "Cute always gets my engine going."

Without another word, she reaches up and runs her fingers through his hair to push it away from her face. Either she was willing to lose an arm, or she /really/ wanted to feel his hair again.

Victor Creed has posed:
At that, Victor laughs and gives a shrug. "Never know until you try." He tosses his empty beer can unerringly towards the trash can as he watches Raven drink more of hers.

He wrinkles his nose. "Deadliest poet on Earth," he says, before glancing around for a moment. "Well, not on Earth /now/..." His gaze moves back to her face, catching that smile. A far less scary one than her usual smile. "I'll see if I can track down some cute for you."

She does not, in fact, lose an arm as her fingers run through his hair. He simply laughs and leans forward a bit, giving her easier access to his head. "Stock up on those memories now, in case those assholes prove to be fun enough for me to stay for a while."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Withdrawing her hand, Raven visibly counts her fingers while looking at him then starts chuckling. She didn't really expect to lose a limb, but he seemed for once to actually be relaxed and that had been her goal all along.

"Greatest poet on the asteroid, come on, you know you want that title," she snorts out through the chuckling. "Okay, I'm going to drop that joke now... we both know your poetry is in how you eviscerate living things. It's a kind of poetry that most would never see, but I do."

Taking the last large drink of her beer, she tosses the can into the recycling bin. Even in space, they recycle, and all metal is used by Magneto to make the base larger or more secure. "Do you know what I find cute Victor?" She then asks plainly. "You've seen my fish in the garden right? They are /my/ fish, and should anyone touch them or harm them, they won't wake up the next morning. I find them cute."

Folding her hands in her lap, she cants her head slightly as she says, "I also find my children cute, Kurt and Anna Marie... even though they are both grown now. They will grow old and eventually die and you and I will still be here, probably drinking beer while I risk my limbs to pet you."

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor simply listens to Raven, nodding along as she speaks. He does not seem to mind that the poetic joke is going by the wayside. He has a reputation to protect.

But as her words turn a bit more somber, talk of her children growing old while they remain young, he is forced to let loose a sigh. "If I told you there wasn't a risk, it'd take away all the fun."

Because clearly, that is the most important statement to take out of that.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
The statement was enough to draw Raven back into the here and now. It wasn't wise to dwell on the past as her mind wanted to do, nor the future that was unknown yet. Living as long as she had there were times when doing that was very difficult.

"Oh I assume there is always a risk," she replies more cheerfully. "Why do you think I counted my fingers? There is always that chance you will bite, and honestly, that's an exciting risk to consider before petting your head."

Victor Creed has posed:
For Victor, any thoughts are only of the future, denied knowledge of their connection in the past. Would it change him in any way? Too hard to say. Likely too risky to try.

Those fangs appear again as Victor grins at her. "We both know that my biting you would hardly be much of a punishment for anything." He leans his head forward, towards her, as if daring her to try again.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
It was the memories of that past that once again ripped through Raven like a bolt of lightning. Add that toothy grin, and her eyes sparkle. It was a long time ago, and the son that resulted was a human who hated mutants so much, he started his own hate group. Telling Victor wasn't an option, but remember those nights together was always a possibility.

Reaching up slowly she jerked her hand away like he was attempting to bite her, even though he didn't, then she moves slowly again before rushing in to run her fingers through his hair again. "Biting can have to possible outcomes," she states softly, one brow raised. "Either I lose a limb, or the sheets get destroyed."

Victor Creed has posed:
His hand darts up, strong fingers curling around her wrist, holding her hand in place against his scalp as her fingers drift among his hair. His eyes look to meet hers, his fangs once more sparkling in the light. "Or both." His tongue slips over his lips with a nearly predatory grin.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
How quickly he moves still surprises Raven from time to time, and this was one of those. Lightning reaction to grab her wrist, which thankfully was one of the areas not broken or burned.

Knowing she had two choices, her tactical minds took mere seconds to follow each of the choices through a scenario to a possible ending. One was more appealing than the other of course, and knowing the outcome of that choice made it far more so. The other choice ended with a laugh, and a memory of a moment. It took only a few more seconds to factor in the variables, one of which was very important, which brought her thinking to a conclusion.

"Oh Victor," she breaths in a sultry tone. "You couldn't handle me to destroy this sheets. We would destroy an entire room," and they had. "The destruction in our wake would be very impressive," and it was. "But seeing as I don't know your thinking, and I am presently in an open relationship with Roberto Da Costa... I think it best we leave destructive sex to the woman you are rewarded with upon your return."

Victor Creed has posed:
There is a moment where it would seem that Raven's suggestion hangs in the balance of being followed ... or not. His fingers tighten upon her wrist, and in that pause, all manner of calculations may traipse through Raven's mind. Not the least of which was, what is Victor truly capable of?

But that moment passes as he releases her wrist, sitting up straight with a barked laugh. "You better make sure you prepare her for what's coming for her."

He flashes a broad grin. "Take your best guess and amp it up a bit." Because surely she does not /actually/ know what he is capable of.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Oh Raven so wants to tell him she knows perfectly well what he is capable of. She has taken that carnival ride many, many, many times... but she can't. It would end poorly to reveal the full truth, so for now she'll play along.

"I will be certain she is prepared for the ride Victor," she explains softly as she takes her hand back. "And who knows, perhaps I will speak with Roberto and your reward will be whatever you want me to be."

Victor Creed has posed:
There is a bit of an almost offended expression on Victor's face at her last statement. "I'd never ask you to be anything other than what you are, Raven."

A rare moment of seriousness from Sabretooth.

"Besides. Never had blue before."

And there it goes.