1963/Mutants, Beer and Ribs

Mutants, Beer and Ribs
Date of Scene:	04 June 2020
Location:	The Wick
Synopsis:	Alliances are made.
Cast of Characters:	Thomas Blake, Betsy Braddock

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Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake wonders what other so called villains do after making a clean escape? For his part... he gets a beer and some ribs. He's tucking into it, with one eye on the door and quite happy with himself. Deep in his heart of hearts he admits getting that little girl our of a hairball was a good thing to do, and he have done it whatever way he had to. You can't treat people like garbage. Besides, anything he does to screw Alchemax over is a good thing. Okay, those guys might have been FBI eh whatever. He wonders absently why he's thinking so much and in complete sentences as if for a reader who came in late? Then he shrugs and attacks some potato skins. "Grrrrrr..."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Well, with his eye on the door, there's little chance he'll miss Betsy coming in. After all, it isn't every day a model pretty woman with purple hair and a perfect complexion walks into the wick, surely. But she does, pausing just inside the door as if to let everyone get a look.

She's not dressed in anything fancy, it wouldn't do to draw even more attention when doing recon. She's in a simple black blouse, jeans, and black boots. Boots that will start to cross over the wooden floors towards one man attacking some potato skins as if they might run away like a small prey animal. "Mind if I join you?" She asks, that British accent a faint trace of crispness.

It's more a polite gesture than an actual question, as she'll take a seat anyhow. "I'm here about the girl."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake looks up, rather than just watching her out of the corner of one green eye. His hand goes for the handle of his knife. the rest of him keeps eating as he nods. "You can certainly join me. I don't know what you mean about a girl. Sorry." There's a small flicker of hope, thought. He carried Gabby past the goons and they hadn't a clue. that would make this lovely... a Mutant? Her next reaction will tell everything. If she's Alchemax... she will learn just what makeup will not cover.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Betsy will just look at him with a very disappointed expression, that's just a little frosty. She will lean in a little closer, those violet eyes anything but kind. "Lying to me is as useless as your hand on that knife, darling." She murmurs, almost like a lover telling sweet nothings. " I followed the girl's mind to you, you see. You got her out of trouble, and I had a clear glimpse of your face. I've come to find out what you know about where she went next, and who is after her."

She will be so bold as to lift one of his potato skins and take a bite from it. "I need to find her, and bring her to where she can be safe again. I care about her."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake meets those violet eyes. "Dr. Psycho is a telepath. He threatened me. It didn't turn out the way he expected. See you are within my reach. Eating my potato skin in fact. If you're a telepath why can't you find her? You found me." No the hand doesn't move away." He takes a sip of beer.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"I'm not just a telepath, love." That britishness is coming out in fullness now, even as she nibbles at his potato skin. He will feel just a little wiggle of the knife in his grasp. "I'm following her trail. Something is blocking her mind, keeping me from finding exactly where she is, at the moment. It's annoying and frustrating to be honest, but I make do with what I can."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake shrugs. "I'm still comfidant of my chances, is the thing but... I believe you. If you were with Alchemax, you'd have read read my mind by now. You must be a good guy Mutant. Sit down. Call me Thomas or Tom... if you insist on Tommy, someone will die." He slides the potato skins at her and orders two more Blue Moons. he's come to like them. Deadshot would make fun of it. He even expends a quickly cleaned hand to her.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Others have tried, and failed. But I'm not here to fight you. And how do you know I haven't read your mind? I followed you here, after all." Betsy will say with a smile. "But no, I do not tend to read minds unless needful. I'd seen enough to know your face."

"Thomas, then." She will extend a hand and shake his. For all it's perfectly manicured nails, there are callouses one gets from handling weapons that he could feel. "Elizabeth, but I prefer the nickname Betsy. I've gotten used to it, over time." The smile will widen, that model perfect grin there and lingering for a moment. "I don't know about good guy, but I do not have affiliation with.. Alchemax, was it?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake gets a little more guarded. "Alchemax. are you a meta or a Mutant?" Another order of ribs comes as well as the beer and Thomas does not correct the waiter, sliding it to Betsy. "Betsy is a nice name. It has an aristocratic, yet relaxed feel to it." CHOMP! Maybe that wasn't a mis-order? Maybe it was thinking ahead? "Alchemax... was after the kid... and me. I got her out of the mall pretending to be her daddy and with her throwing a tantrum. It worked as she's tiny and could pass for a little kid. I took her to the Eagle Diner and we had milkshakes. She's a good kid. Smelled like a badger though. Still trying to figure that out."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Mutant." She says softly, as she signals for a beer. There's a soft chuckle. "Well, that's handy, since I am technically a noble lady, in my home country."

She looks serious as she looks over at him. "If one doesn't look, yes, she could likely pass for younger than she is. But she's definitely not young in experience." There's a hint of a smile. "Milkshakes. That was kind of you. And yes, she's a good kid. The animal musk sort of thing comes from her father, I suppose. He has that same sort of thing."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake finishes with his ribs, and another beer quickly, "So... you're kind is breaking any laws people find convenient most of the time. So if you think someone grabbed her... I'll help you track her right now. Stupid question, have you tried her phone?"

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Betsy will sip at her own beer, money on the bar. "I don't know if I am even 'my kind'." She'll even air quote with her fingers. "I don't tend to break laws if I can help it, but sometimes laws are stupid and more harmful than helpful."

There's a snort. "Yes. It keeps going right to voicemail, and there's no ping from it to track GPS wise."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake nods. "We both ended up in the group the law doesn't care about. You by your birth, me by my actions. Let's find your girl." He gestures towards the door. Healso has ghis hand off the knife. "I never partnered up with someone like you."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
She will rise from her seat, one slick and elegant motion, putting money on the bar to cover his food and booze with a healthy tip.

As she saunters for the door, those violet eyes look him over again. "Someone like me? British? Model? Noblewoman? Or do you mean mutant?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake leans close and says, "Super model. I already worked with Gabby. My old friend the banshee was nobility. I think I met a couple Brits in Africa. I wouldn't say we were working together. Yeah, model. Ever work with an ordinary human?"

Betsy Braddock has posed:
There's a sly little smile, and a chuckle. "Quite often. I've known a good many humans while doing things like this. Though ordinary is likely to be an opinion, much like what is normal." She shrugs, pushing her hair back from her face. "I mean, I'm not exactly an ordinary mutant."

She will slide out the door to the street, and wait for him on the sidewalk.