18069/Saturday Night's the Night I Like

Saturday Night's the Night I Like
Date of Scene:	26 May 2024
Location:	Danger Room
Synopsis:	Logan's Danger Room brawl is interrupted. Negasonic drops by to check her text messages and Emma comes in to verbally praise everyone in her own unique way.
Cast of Characters:	Logan Howlett, Negasonic, Emma Frost

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Logan Howlett has posed:
The computer display beside the entrance of the Danger Room as well as on the monitors in the control room show a program currently in progress. It's name? Saturday. Sounds pretty harmless.

Inside is not a typical scenario that might include some sentinels or mutant villains that the X-Men have faced on a regular basis over the years. Instead, the Danger Room is more or less every dingy dive bar on the east coast. Old wooden panels, fogged up windows full of cracks, fluorescent light fixtures advertising cheap beer brands, and loud honky tonk music playing on the jukebox. Then there's the massive brawl going on.

Throughout the bar are 2 dozen burly bikers surrounding Logan, who is barely visible in the crowd. Several bikers are spread out across the floor, having apparently been knocked out by the X-Man.

The sound of a beer bottle shattering against a wooden column is followed by the sound of that same bottle puncturing Logan's cheek. Based on the blood pouring out from the wound and down his neck and soaking into the white tank top he's wearing, he's disabled the safety settings.

His face twisted into a horrifying scowl, he brings up a fist into his attacker's chin. The biker's jaw snaps, his head jerking violently to the side, and his knees buckle beneath him, sending him crashing to the floor.

Almost immediately, another biker cracks Logan over the back of the head with the thick end of a pool stick.

Negasonic has posed:
If Negasonic Teenage Warhead had to fight any more sentinels, she'd vomit, anyways.

It was a favorite of the Danger Room types, but a honky tonk bar? Blending right into that was Ellie. She had wanted to come down here anyway, a safe place to just explode (as she was wont to do), but turns out it was already in use. Without things such as restraint or respect for space to stop her, it was easy enough for her to wander inside.

She was dressed in a black leather jacket, boots, band t-shirt and artfully torn jeans, covered with enough metal piercings to make Magneto her weakness as well.

Her nose scrunches up as a rattling punch sends a biker flying over a table her way.

"I guess it's easier to get a home workout here than go beat up rando bikers at some dingy bar elsewhere, right?" she asks, glancing across towards Logan. She snatches up a bottle, to turn it upside down. No beer in a simulation, after all.

"Heard stories about you. This just nostalgia for nostalgia's sake?" she asks.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost is heading to the Danger Room for her own training. In telepathic combat. One of the things that the Danger Room can adequately simulate, and far simpler than getting Jean available for a mental brawl. She catches notice of Ellie ahead of her, and goes to let out a sigh at the indications that the Danger Room is occupied. Ah well, maybe she can bully them out of..

And inside it's that feral midget getting into a brawl. Emma quirks a brow. This is a bit surprising. She goes to muse, "Why Logan, what stops you from pursuing this in relaity? Have you been banned from every single establishment which serves alcohol within an extended radius? Or have you simply not had any luck with finding ninjas to disembowel as of late?" Both were more stereotypical statements about the man's purported ways of blowing off stress by reputation - accurate or not in the slightest.

Logan Howlett has posed:
The wound in the side of his face already closing up, Logan grabs the splintered pool stick from his next aggressor, yanking it from his grasp and cracking it back over the man's skull. A low growl erupts from the short but stout man's throat as he tosses the stick onto the ground. He sounds furious, but the smile on his face suggests he's having a grand old time.

Negasonic's entrance doesn't immediately draw his attention, as he's busy slamming a fist square against another holographic man's nose, a sickening crack and a spray of blood covering his face. "Just gettin' the blood pumpin' is all," he mutters as he turns to face her, using the back of his hand to wipe blood from his chin.

When Emma shows up as well, Logan's eyes turn to regard her. "You know me," he drawls, "I like to keep my hobbies varied. Ninjas are great'n all, but sometimes you just gotta appreciate the simplicity of good old-fashioned bar knuckleheadin'. Besides, even I need my cardio."

Negasonic has posed:
With the bottle being beerless, she flips the bottle in her hand, and bashes it against the simulated biker.

Still kinda satisfying, overall. "Heh," she says to herself, although her eyes flicker towards Emma, and her face falls. Not that her face ever brightened, but still. "Better than a treadmill, I guess," she says, tossing the remains of the bottle away.

Pulling out a chair with a screeching of chair versus floor, she settles herself onto a table, drawing her phone out of her pocket.

"Sunday is Danger Room day, I guess," she says, glancing towards Emma.

"Didn't think you were the barfight kinda person," she says to Emma.

"And Logan, have you ever considered something like, I dunno, woodworking instead?"

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost would glance at Logan, "And is there a reason why you have to take up time doing so here as opposed to going out in doing it in an actual establishment? Or is it simply one of those days where you don't feel sufficient wanderlust to go out exploring?" Again, that stereotype about him may or may not be accurate.

"And I suppose. Should we also put some Asgardian mead on a piece of string and dangle it out of reach for you?" Yes, she was going to probably pay for that one.

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan wipes his hands on his jeans, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, Emma, sometimes a man's just gotta let off some steam without tearin' up a real place. Keeps the peace, y'know?"

He turns to Negasonic, eyebrow raised. "Woodworking? Don't think these claws are built for delicate work. But hey, could be worth a shot. Might make a hell of a conversation piece."

"I can switch programs if you two..." He's interrupted when one of the remaining bikers bashes him across the upper back with a bar stool, sending him lurching forward a few steps. Sneering, he turns around and open-hand slaps the man across the face, causing him to drop the stool. He then quickly grabs the man by his collar and head butts him, sending him stumbling backwards against the floor. "Freeze the damn program," he rumbles, turning back to the others.

"As I was sayin', if you two need a workout, we can load up somethin' else."

Negasonic has posed:
"Naw, I just come down here when I feel a little pent up," says Negasonic, voice already taking on that hollow quality that she gets when distracted. Her brow furrows, her focus goes on her phone.

"When I feel I need to explode, you know? Can't do that outside so well, it makes people nervous," she says, her black-painted nails sliding across the screen.

"You know. Create instead of just... punch, or whatever," says the girl, her likewise black-painted lips now frowning. Did she just give helpful advice? It was an accident. Or maybe all the negativity in the room was causing her to go with being positive.

Maybe she just liked being contrary. One of those.

Frozen around her, she glances up towards a frozen biker, briefly, who had decided to use her distraction to start to swing a chair at her. She just... gets up, and moves.

"Whatever," she says to Logan's offer. "I don't think that I'm in the mood for yoga, or whatever Emma would use the danger room for," she says.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost would glance at Logan, "So instead of having to pay out medical bills and for repairs of the facility, you just wreck up Charles' instead? I suppose that's a fair bargain. Though haven'tyou simply started charging any damages to his accounts? I'm sure that's just as easy. He's a very understanding octogenarian, I'm sure that he's not going to mind having to handle just a little more bit of administrative chaos. And heaven knows the man is wealthy enough to afford it as an accounting error. And no, Miss Phimister.." The use of her last name might get a glare from Ellie or perhaps a whimper that someone knew it, and in turn could threaten to let others know of it. "My own preferences for the use of here is not something you would find particularly interesting."

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan arches a brow as he glances at Negasonic, "Creating instead of just punching, eh?" he says with mild curiosity. He's heard about Ellie's personality that sure as hell seems the opposite of what he's heard. "I'll keep it in mind. But I get it. Sometimes you gotta let it out where you won't blow up half the neighborhood."

He returns his gaze to Emma, smirking, his canines barely exposed over his bottom lip, "As for Chuck's place, well, he did say the Danger Room was built for exactly this kinda thing. Keeps the damage contained, and I get to stretch my legs without putting anyone in the hospital."

He folds his arms over his chest and leans back against the bar, "He can handle the paperwork if I put a few scratches and dents in the place."

Negasonic has posed:
Trust her. Everyone knew her last name.

Rare was the person that called her Ellie, though, and 'Miss Phimister' was like... not even her, really. Ellie kinda crinkles her face up and squints at Emma. "I'm trying to think of what a trust fund princess would even want out of a place like this. A simulation of a bunch of cronies fawning over you? I dunno," she says.

A snort at what Logan says.

"The place handles a literal nuke well enough," she says to Emma. "I'm sure Logan's long fingernails will be okay," she says.

Text text texting away, although she does try to tip over the paused simulation of the guy that was trying to chair her.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost would smile, "Oh, I'm far from a trust fund princess, darling." Emma goes to jab back at Ellie with mirth. Actually she both was and she was not, but that was a story for another issue. "But let us not put Shi'Ar technology through the wringer if only as it's rather difficult to get spare parts for it, even with Forge and Henry onhand to work on them."

But she does nod her head to acknowledge the point that Logan and Ellie have brought up.

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan chuckles at Negasonic's and Emma's banter, shaking his head. "You two are like oil and water. Makes for good entertainment though," he says, glancing between them with a grin.

He steps over the paused biker, nudging him with his boot. "Shi'Ar tech or not, this place was made to take a beating. But yeah, let's not make it harder on Hank and Forge than it needs to be. They got enough to deal with without us adding to their workload."

Logan looks back at Negasonic, his grin turning mischievous. "As for spicing things up, how about we run a scenario that challenges all of us? Something that's got a mix of combat, strategy, and a bit of creativity. Keeps everyone on their toes. What d'ya say, Emma? Up for a challenge that isn't all about fawning cronies?"

He then turns his gaze to Negasonic. "And you, kid? Up for something a bit more engaging than just knocking heads? Might even learn a thing or two from the 'trust fund princess' over here."

Negasonic has posed:
"I'm glad *someone* is enjoying themselves," says Negasonic to Logan, turning her eyes to kinda glower more at Emma.

"I think it might strain the processors trying to think of something that would fawn over you, Emma," she says. "And eh. It gives Beast and Forge something to do, right?" she says.

"And sure. That's what I came down here to do, anyways," she says.

"If it wouldn't ruffle Emma's dress too much. It probably costs more than this whole mansion, right?" she says.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost would smirk, "I don't have to strain at all, darling. I get plenty of appreciation for what I can do." She would quip back. "And I'll be honest, as much as it might surprise you, darlings. But Roberto, Warren, and Charles have exponentially more money than I do. And if one counts property, then Ms. Braddock does as well. So don't presume that I'm by far the most well off one here." Emma would quip back.

"And if we're going by trust fund brats, then Warren and perhaps Roberto qualify far, far more than I do. Roberto's an honorary Wayne by habits."