16802/Here, Kitty Kitty

Here, Kitty Kitty
Date of Scene:	16 January 2024
Location:	East Village
Synopsis:	Roxie gets a little visit from Victor Creed. Thankfully, Roy comes to the rescue!
Cast of Characters:	Victor Creed, Roxanne Spaulding, Roy Harper

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Victor Creed has posed:
It had been a couple of weeks since that fateful night when Victor Creed had made off with a teleporting alien he stole from its owner, a club going seeming meta that was friends with the X-Men. Maybe a mutant, maybe not. Victor didn't care. The score was the score.

But something about her had managed to arouse a certain interest in him, which is rarely healthy. Maybe it was her bearing, maybe her reaction. Maybe he just wanted to know a bit more about the creature which seemed to be far more valuable than the paltry sum he was hired for.

And so Victor had found himself walking the streets of New York, sniffing around for that scent he had captured in the club. It took a while, but eventually, he caught a whiff of it, and followed Roxanne to a bar. Long enough to realize that she worked there. Which was always once of his favorite circumstances.

And so he waits, knowing that closing time would come sooner or later. And once her shift was over...

...then their fun would begin.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
A dive. That's the kind of bar she worked at. She liked it. The owner was nice to give her shifts when she needed extra cash here and there.

The night was rather uneventful. It was mostly the regulars, old men who came because they were depressed or wanting to get away from their troubles or wives or all of the above. Roxie did what she could as a bartender, acting more like a counselor than just someone who makes drinks.

She was good at it. She was good at listening to them, giving them a different perspective, and it made her feel happy. She was able to help these people if briefly.

And so it was just before sunrise that she had finished counting the cash from the evening, getting her share of tips, and helping to close out.

Wrapping herself up in that leather jacket of hers, she begins the trek to the subway so she could make her way to her tiny one bedroom in the Lower East Side.

Victor Creed has posed:
The subway. Victor hated it, for the same reason everyone else did. Except he hated it more because he has a heightened sense of smell. And yet, if that is how she gets home, he was not about to lose her.

As thin as the crowds may be, Victor does his best to try to avoid drawing attention to himself as she heads into the subway. He follows along and lingers against a column to avoid notice at the platform, and waits for her train. If it is populated enough, he might slip in among the crowd unseen. If it is not...

Well, perhaps he can manage to at least figure out what stop she is, and pick up the hunt another night.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Ear pods. IT's what she has in her ears as she walks, bobbing her head as she listens to K-pop along the way. It's energetic, and it keeps her awake, even if she does a little dance move every now and then, sliding across the asphalt or strutting with a bit of a hop every now and then.

That means, she's mostly unaware of others around her. Her commute has always been uneventful, so perhaps she is a bit more unguarded.

Once in the train, she sits, bobbing her head until she makes it to her stop.

Victor Creed has posed:
Keeping his distance, eyeing her from another train through the small window rocking back and forth, Victor waits until she rises and is clearly out and moving up the platform to dart through the doors as they are beginning to close, his hand trailing mere moments away from causing it to stop and make noise. But he eludes that, and ends up on the platform a ways back from her.

Watching as she moves to ascend those stairs, and then following along at a distance. He does not need to keep her in his sights, of course, and he allows her to get a considerable lead. He can always follow her scent in the air.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
So does she speak Korean? Or is she just 'singing' along butchering a language that for the most part she's unfamiliar with. Blame her Koreaboo-ness.

She continues bobbing her head as she makes it to her stop rather uneventfully. Her building isn't too far, as it's right after she passes by the Trader Joes and Target that is closed. Once at her building, she notices the doorman isn't there, but shrugs her shoulders as it's early, and the doorman is an old man.

Now that she's in her building, she's even -MORE- relaxed, pressing the elevator button to go the 22nd floor.

Victor Creed has posed:
This is not Victor's first rodeo. Or even his hundredth. He walks past the door well after Roxanne goes in, noting the absence of the doorman. He waits until his acute hearing picks up the ping and the elevator door swishing open, and then slips inside after the doors close. Making his way over to the elevator lobby, he watches as the display tickets up. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22.

His lips curl into a smile as he notes that, and pushes the button to summon another elevator.

Lucky number 22. FOr him, at least.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Ding! The elevator door opens and Roxanne slips into the relatively small hallway. There are probably only ten or so apartments per floor, so it's not like there's that many doors.

Making her way to the door, she unlocks it simply with a click and decides to head inside, first turning on the light as she goes in.

Victor Creed has posed:
A few moments after Roxanne is safely in her apartment, Victor steps out of the other elevator. A few quick sniffes send him in the proper direction, and in short order he is standing outside her door. Hard not to find his way.

He then moves along to the stairwell, slipping through it and then opening a window. It might be insane to scale the side of a building twenty two stories up, in winter, in New York. But no one ever accused Sabretooth of being sane.

With talons extended to give him extra purchase, he slides along the outside of the building until, using his mental map, he comes to what should be a window to her apartment.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Roxie is lucky. She has one of those larger balconies with a beautiful view of both bridges from the Lower East Side. Naturally, her balcony door is unlocked, as who would come in through that door? Superman? One of the X-Men? Definitely not some murderous kitty cat.

So naturally, inside, she starts to strip, wanting to get into the shower so she can wash off the dirt and grime for the day before going to bed.

Victor Creed has posed:
It would be crass to stay out there and watch Roxanne strip. So of course, Victor does so, taking advantage of the unwitting show as long as the performance is out there to be had, from just below the balcony's floor.

Once she moves to the shower, he hauls himself up, pops open the door quietly, and moves with all the stealth of a stalking jungle cat. Not following her just yet into the bathroom, but taking a brief look around the apartment. He suspects she is the sort to take a luxurious shower, at leats.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
The apartment is relatively spartan. It's not like she has a lot of things, but there is a photo of her with four others dressed in what can only be described as a 'superhero' outfit. It was spandex or latex, but definitely form fitting, and she was smiling between two redheads, a Native American young woman, and a Grungey Asian-American.

There are other things in the apartment like bills, bills, and more bills.

And yes, Roxie is the type to take a long hot shower as Kpop fills the bathroom from her bluetooth speakers (now connected to her iPhone!).

Victor Creed has posed:
A brief study is made of those photos, confirming Victor's theory as to the nature of her being. A mutant, maybe. A supe? Certainly.

After taking a slow, casual stroll around the apartment, he slips towards the bathroom. Under the cover of the blasting Kpop, he slips inside, reaching over to claim the towel that had been awaiting Roxanne upon the conclusion of the shower. And with that in hand, he steps back out of the bathroom, moving down the hall and back towards that balcony.

The towel is tossed on the nearest piece of furniture. And he waits.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
As she finishes getting all nice and squeaky clean, she reaches out to grab for her towel. There's nothing.

She grabs for air, and she peeks out from behind the curtains, blinking as she could've sworn the towel was there before. "Roy?" she calls out. Did she get a surprise visit from someone?

Giggling impishly, she just walks out dripping wet as she hrmms, "You know, you could've join..." And that's when she walks into the living room and spies the totally-not-Roy and covers herself with her hands, "HOLY SHIT."

Victor Creed has posed:
"If I had known I could have, I certainly would have," replies Victor, grinning at Roxanne with a fanged smile. "Even though I don't generally like to get wet, I do like it when the women are."

His tongue rolls across his fangs as he simply stands there, admiring the view.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Her eyes flit about the room, pursing her lips to see if there might be anyone else with him. She remains standing still, swallowing nervously as she stammers just a bit. "Where's Queelocke?" Roxie asks, now more than a bit worried about the alien-cat-monkey pet.

"And no, you're not exactly my type. Murderous cannibals aren't exactly sexy."

Victor Creed has posed:
"Oh, he is back at my place. Did you know he really likes french fries? ADORES them." Victor slowly starts crossing the room, arms hanging at his side, as he watches Roxanne. He sniffs a bit at the air, as if despite her having just bathed, he is summoning some of her scent.

He shakes his head, tsking. "You cannot believe that they say about me. I won't argue that I am sexy, but I am most certainly /not/ a cannibal."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"Curly fries are his favorite. Especially with a mix of pink sauce, ketchup and mayo. Make it kewpie though." She most certainly knows some of the favorite treats of the alien. It seems, she has bonded with it over the past year or so.

"Why are you here? You got what you wanted. But give him back." she says, perhaps knowing that simply asking wont get her alien back, but who knows? Maybe he'll have some sort of change of heart.

Victor Creed has posed:
"Oh, I always get what I want." Another fanged grin. "The problem is I always tend to want more, y'know?" He continues his slow advance towards Roxanne, eyeing her up and down again as she drips.

"I got paid, or at least, would have, but I decided that little guy is more important, more valuable, than money. But then there's also you." Another glance over her form. "You're interesting."

Victor offers a grin that suggests that might not be a healthy thing for her.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"Don't take a step closer, if you do I'll..." and she just bites on her bottom lip. What would she do? Create a singularity to rip him apart? No, she did that once and she hated that feeling, so she just tries to bluff instead.

"You'll regret it if you come closer. And I'm not interesting. I'm just a bartender." with a green alien-cat-monkey. Or had one anyway.

Victor Creed has posed:
"I have never regretted a damn thing in my life, and I ain't about to start now." Victor does, in fact, continue to come closer, undeterred by her threat.

"I'm not sure what you are, but it damn sure ain't a bartender. Not with what you pulled off at the club, and not with Squeaker hanging around you."

He tilts his head. "So who, or what, are you? And what is he, really?"

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
What is Queelocke? "I honestly have no fucking clue what he is. He found me one day at a club and has kinda stuck with me the past couple years." At least, Roxie is being honest about that.

Then there's the question about her. Just what is she? She gives the simple half-truth. "A mutant." she says matter of factly. "I'm a mutant."

Victor Creed has posed:
"Ah, yeah. That explains it. He does seem to be an affectionate little guy." Victor smiles in appreciation. "He really didn't want me to leave tonight, poor fellow, but..."

There is a glance over towards the photo in the frame of the uniforms. "Ah, great. I'm a mutant too, you know." He lifts up his hand and in an instant those talons flash out. "If you think that is cool, you should what my mutation did to other parts..."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"Give. Him. Back." That is said with a bit more force in her words, and if he really looks, her hairs start to stand on end. Not because she's raising her heckles, but because the g-forces upon her body are definitely changing.

"He doesn't belong to you. He's not supposed to be with you. He's vulnerable. You left him alone, what if -THEY- get him again?" Oh what is she talking about. "He's an interdimensional portal. There are people who have been trying to take him, and those are probably the people who hired you. Trance and his groupies."

The person who did put out for the hit was a guy named Trance. Someone who looks like he shopped at Hot Topic too much; very much a 90s dark brooding goth who listens to the Cure too much

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor does not seem to show any concern about the shifting of gravity. But he does pay attention to it, eyes flicking to her hair and then back to her face.

"Relax, They can't get anywhere near him. He isn't even on this planet right now." Victor laughs as he continues to approach, even as the gravity seems to be changing.

"Yeah. He did. But I told them to go fuck themselves. So you don't have to worry about him getting his hands on him." He shrugs. "But he's a fun little guy. And he likes me. Most prey sized animals are scared of me, for some reason."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Blink. Blink. "Not even on the planet? Where is he?" Now she looks confused, and she takes a few steps back, trying to keep a set distance from the mutant merc.

"Trance and is groupies are dangerous. They will try to go after him." Roxie says, deciding to warn Sabretooth. "If you start seeing a little goth French maid in your dreams, then on some level it's too late." For who?

Victor Creed has posed:
The enigmatic smile from Victor is the only answer that Roxanne gets on that front as he continues a step forward for every step she takes back, maintaining that distance. Maybe closing just a little bit, with his longer legs.

"I'm not worried about that punk. And if a goth french maid shows up in /my/ dreams, well, that's /her/ mistake, not mine." He snickers a bit.

"An American bartender showed up in mine the other day. Worked out just fine for me. Not so fine for her, though."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
She's an American bartender. Is she who he's referring to?

Not wanting to risk anything, she simply says, "BACK. OFF."

Creed can feel a pull backwards. Creating gravity wells, takes some bit of concentration, which leaves her a bit vulnerable in this state. It's not like she can create one instantly that would send him flying. She's good, but not /that/ good yet.

Victor Creed has posed:
The warning does not seem to change anything. Victor just grins broadly at her.

"Yeah. She said that too."

And that's when he lunges at her with the suddenness of a jungle cat finding its prey.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Surely, a mutant with super strength can avoid the slowly strengthening gravity. It seems that in this case, when he lunges at her, she is nowhere near as fast as the more experienced, far older mutant. With a gasp, she finds that large clawed hand around her throat, and she gacks just a bit, her eyes widening as that primal fear has kicked in.

Pretty much scared out of her mind, it's difficult to concentrate to create anything that would be of use in the moment that would be quick enough to where she could guarantee he wouldn't slash her jugular along the way.

She struggles, trying to place her hands on his wrist, as if she could get him to release his grip. NOw who's dreaming?

Victor Creed has posed:
With Roxanne's efforts to get Victor's hand out from around her neck taking precedence over concealing her form, Victor himself takes a moment to glance down now, that tongue flashing out over his fangs for a moment. "Well now, " he says, lifting his hand up to flash one talon in front of her nose, between her eyes, before slowly lowering it down past her mouth.

"This is starting to feel /just like/ that dream..."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
It was supposed to be a simple, uneventful night. There was work at the local dive bar. Then she would get all nice and clean. Then she would probably watch some Netflix before falling asleep. That /was/ the plan.

Until a certain Victor Creed came a knocking, surprising her just post shower to where she was now finding herself between a cat and a hard place.

She continues to struggle with his hand around her neck, as she tugs and pulls. Maybe she can bluff?

"Let me go. You know what I cna do. It would be a shame to make a blackhole in your belly."

Victor Creed has posed:
"Your powers might be capable of that, but are you?"

Victor sneers a bit as he holds Roxanne aloft. "So, let's try this again. Fill me in on what Squeaker is, and I can leave you alone to enjoy the rest of your day." He laughs. "I just want to make sure that I am giving him adequare care and feeding, after all."

Roy Harper has posed:
It has been something of a long day for one Roy Harper. And he has, for the most part, spent it out of town, having had to travel up to Westchester to visit the Triskelion for assorted meetings, briefings, and other administrative tasks.

The sort of thing that the red-headed archer has very little patience for. Give him a good field op any day and he'll thrive. Put him in a two hour briefing? Well, there's a good chance that there will be plentiful snores coming from the back of the room.

He is very much still all dressed up in his seemingly government issue black suit, though the Mickey Mouse tie probably is not standard issue, not unless SHIELD has changed it's dress code considerably. But he has to have some petty rebellions at the very least.

Stopping by to check in on Roxanne seemed natural enough and as he pauses outside that door, as he hears the sounds of what seems like a confrontation within, the redhead's features tense. And while there is always the possibility that he will embarass both himself and anyone within, he rears back, hammers a kick at the door close to the handle before drawing weapons.

"Roxie?" he calls out, gaze already sweeping the main room as he enters.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
And there she is, completely naked, pinned against the wall with razor sharp claws around her neck. Hearing the voice, she tries to scream, but decides against it, apparently liking keeping her jugular intact.

"He's a portal." Roxie replies, continuing to struggle. "I don't know how he decides where to go. It's random." At least, that much is a lie, but she wasn't going to tell the complete truth in a situation like this.

The pair aren't too far from the main living room. If anything, they could probably be seen from certain vantage points.

Victor Creed has posed:
"Huh. Interesting." Victor seems intent upon interogated Roxanne, and seems to be paying little enough attention to her current state of attire.

"So he brings you along, and can travel around? I imagine that would be pretty lucrative. Probably why they hired me to take him. 'cept I don't think they have the little guy's best interests in mind, so..."

Any further commentary is lost as Roy enters the room, and Victor turns and glacnes in his direction. Licking his fangs, he offers the man a grin. "Hold tight, I'm almost done with her. You can go next."

Roy Harper has posed:
After the incident at the club, Roy used his government clearance to run the information gained there on one Victor Creed.

Nothing in that file was good. Certainly nothing there was particularly reassuring about the present circumstances that they find themselves in.

It isn't exactly difficult to find the source of the disturbance he heard outside in the hall and as he edges through the main room it isn't hard to get an angle of the bathroom that shows just what sort of dire straits Roxie currently finds herself in. Not that they are a whole lot better for Roy either, based on what he read. But he at least has the benefit of being clothed. And armed.

"The lady doesn't seem to be enjoying herself Creed. Maybe you should make yourself scarce," Roy suggests with a tight grin despite not feeling the slightest bit of amusement. Those two foldout hand crossbows remain levelled at the oh so dangerous man though.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"You don't know who you're messing with. Trance and his goons..." And that's when she sees Roy, her eyes widening as she gasps. Roxie continues to struggle in the mutant's grasp. "I told you, they're powerful. They won't take being fucked off kindly." At least, she offers Creed a warning for just who he might have crossed.

The sight of his fangs causes her to worry for the redhead's safety. Her lips purse as she looks towards him, letting out a soft sigh at the sight of the hand crossbows, and she just remains still, not wanting to get caught up in any truly dangerous situations.

Victor Creed has posed:
Looking between the two, Victor just grins. "What's the play, Robin Hood? You think you can get those into me before I can make a mess of your girl here?" Victor lets one finger drift back from his grip around her throat, a talon appearing, which he grazes just beneath her chin.

He laughs. "I'm not worried about Trance or any of those guys. If they were at all dangerous, they would have come themselves for him instead of hiring me."

Roy Harper has posed:
It's a fair question.

While there are a few out there who are better with a bow then Roy admittedly, there might not be anyone quicker and that tight grin never leaves his expression as he keeps those two crossbows leveled towards the mutant with those talons currently wrapped around Roxie's throat.

"Probably," the redhead counters with that boundless confidence. "But you have a tendancy to shrug off little things like fifty thousand volts coursing through your body. Still, I imagine it would hurt like a bitch. And there's a pretty good chance that you'd drop her. And then who knows what she would be able to do to you, hmmm," he muses casually.

"Which is why it's probably better if you just make your good byes and toddle on off." Not ideal perhaps, but the unspoken alternative is that Roy fires and Creed's hand jerks or tightens before all that electricity makes him loosen his grip.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Roxie swallows nervously. Her gaze flits about between her captor and the redheaded archer. Continuing to struggle, she can't help but scoff at the mention of Trance being a pushover. "It's not them I'd be worried about. It's their boss." she offers as a sort of warning.

"I could protect Queelocke. That's why they didn't go for me. Trust me, they will go for you." she says, hoping that maybe she could talk her way out of this predicament.

Then, she offers a glance in Roy's direction, hoping that maybe she distracts Creed enough for him to get a shot in.

Victor Creed has posed:
"Hmmm." says Victor. "Let them try."

He catches the glance between Roy and Roxie, and then just laughs.

"I got what I needed out of you, sweetie, so thanks." His gaze drifts back to the Archer for a moment. "She's all yours."

But not before Victor leans forward in what looks like an attempt to lick her neck.

Roy Harper has posed:
There is usually a time and a place to pick any sort of fight. And daunting as Victor Creed might be, under the right circumstances the redheaded archer wouldn't hesitate to fire, confident enough in his skills. No matter how lucky he might need to be to come out of it in one piece.

That time doesn't really include when he has Roxie by the throat, one talon clearly placed against her neck. Roy might have no doubts that he can get the shot off, but that doesn't mean there wouldn't be serious consequences. And like most in his line of work, keeping others safe is the principle goal, more so even then taking down the bad guy.

And Creed is clearly a very, very bad guy.

So he ignores the provocation offered as the feral mutant licks at Roxie's neck, expression not changing anymore then that shooter's stance, those crossbows still very much leveled and ready to loose those bolts already nocked in place.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Being licked by your pet cat is one thing, but being licked by the savage feral mutant is another. She squints and nosescrunches, definitely freaking out, though she tries to keep her internal monologue to herself, lest Creed get offended and slit her throat.

Roxie continues to squirm in his grasp as she closes her eyes, not wanting to know what will happen next. She's already feeling vulnerable enough.

Victor Creed has posed:
That lick, it seems, is all that Victor is seeking. At least for the moment.

He glances down as if to take in one last look at Roxie before he looks to Roy, winking. "Lucky guy." And with that he releases his grip on Roxie and leaps towards the window, crashing through and into the night sky beyond.

If they were to move to the window, they would see the sparks receding as Victor's claws slow his descent to the ground, and then the figure retreating into the shadows.

Roy Harper has posed:
It is indeed the window that Roy moves to first. Not that he isn't concerned for Roxie and what she has obviously just been through. But until he is absolutely certain that Creed is gone and won't be making a reappearance -- at least tonight -- there is no way that he is lowering his weapons.

With those crossbows still levelled, still proceeding him he shuffles into the bathroom and peers out the window, seeking out any tell tale signs of that threat. And only when he spots those sparks from claws dragging along the surface of the building does he slowly lower those fold-out crossbows, slipping them back into the holsters at his side with a little sigh.

"You okay? Did he hurt you?" the redheaded archer asks, finally turning his attention to the naked young woman and quickly snagging a towel from the counter to wrap her up in.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Roxie shivers as she's dropped to the ground, finally released from Creed's grasp. Curling up into a little ball, she wraps her arms over her knees, just trembling. It's cold and with the window open, the chill winter wind blows on in.

Snapping out of things when the towel is wrapped around her, she looks to Roy and shakes her head. "No, I mean, not physically." She most definitely got a scare which will keep her on edge for a bit.

"Thanks for passing by. I don't know what would have happened if you didn't show me..." she admits ruefully. "Tea... I think tea would be good."