19729/The bigger they are, the harder they brawl

The bigger they are, the harder they brawl
Date of Scene:	21 December 2024
Location:	Mutant Town
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Mary McPherran, Joshua Foley

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Mary McPherran has posed:
In the mutant ghetto, things can get pretty full of flavour. And that's not even counting the racism that comes from those crossing through from one neighbourhood to another. High crime in District X is a thing, and it attracts all manner of sorts. Tonight it is graced with the presence of Titania hot off an underpaying job.

She's not even trying to keep a low profile, despite the warrants open on her. And that may be completely intentional as she's looking for compensation for something that didn't come as a freebie from the job: Satisfaction. Satisfaction from crumpling, smashing, doing property damage while collecting a payday. So juiced up on foul adrenaline that's gone sour, what does someone do when they've been bullied all their life: Trickle down, pass it around, drizzle it on the ground. She's not one to kick puppies, but she knows all about this neighbourhood and who lives here trying to eek out and existence.

Striding down one of the main drags, she casually wields a sledge as if it was made of styrofoam rather than reinforced vault-denting alloys. She walks with the attitude that says she owns this street as long as she strides it. And parked cars get more than broken windows if they happen to be on the right side of the street.

But, perhaps inebriated, her ugly mood has decided that inanimate objects aren't worth it anymore. It's the living and breathing stinking muties that need to flinch when she looms upon them. The fear she sees in their eyes should help. And even better if they try and stand up to her. "Know yer place."

Joshua Foley has posed:
Joshua Foley has been working at one of the soup kitchens in the ghetto for the last few weeks. He does it year round, when he can, a sort of penance for his youthful indiscretions before he learned he was a mutant, before he discovered that all that hatred his family and friends had fed him over the years applied to him. Still, he doesn't give himself much credit - he should've figured it out long before his powers manifested.

He's outside as one of the bums lights a cigarette, making Josh frown. He gently pats the mans back and, as he does, threads of gold spread through his skin, a soft warm glow, metallic in his eyes as he undoes the damage three decades of cancer sticks have done. No cancer yet, thankfully. Healing that shit was complicated and not something he would do casually.

Then he turns his head and sees Titania heading this way and there's no mistaking that she's trouble. He has on a scarf and a warm green jacket, jeans and a sweatshirt underneath.

"Rudy, maybe you better step inside," he says softly as his power begins trying to read Mary's physiology. Holy crap. What a woman.

Mary McPherran has posed:
Mary mouth turns into an ugly frown as she looks over a couple trying to hurry past on the sidewalk. They have sense enough to get out of Dodge, but not fast enough to be out of Titania's field of vision. And their visible deformities create a surge of bile in her belly. The bubbling cauldron of bile and hate don't do anything but boost her negative streak. "Fuckin freaks, why don't you wear a bag."

Once she starts, she gets on a roll of spite and misplaced anger. Spitting it out fast enough, maybe she can stop it from eating away at her insides. Vomiting out the worst, like some posterchild for anti-mutant sentiment.

"Saturday nights must be a gas around here." She raises her voice as she saunters down the street after absently kneeing in the tailgate of a truck. "Hey rejects, what sort of action can I get on a Saturday night? How far will my money go? How much bang for my buck? Got a Colossus handy? I wouldn't mind denting a face like that tonight. These jalopies ain't much fun anymore. Figures..." she slurs. She should have drunk more. Stupid cons of this physiology means needing titanic amounts of booze to feel anything.

Nothing like punching down in a troubled part of town. "You wish you were me."

Joshua Foley has posed:
Joshua Foley steps out into the street. He knows there are other mutants here with abilities that might be able to help but he can also tell from what he reads of Mary's abilities and genetics that she's far too potent for most anyone to step to. Not without getting themselves killed. Lucky for Joshua Foley, he can't die.

Might hurt a lot, though. But he's going to use his words first.

"You're not exactly normal either, are you?" he says. His voice is young and a little nervous, but he stands up straight. Nervous. But courageous.

"Why are you bothering these people? They haven't done anything to you. If you're looking for a fight, you won't get much of one here. We've had enough fighting. And it's Christmas season. They deserve a little peace."

Mary McPherran has posed:
"Well maybe the Grinch has come to visit all the Who's down in Pooh town." Mary quips and shoulders her hammer into that part of her shoulder where some big old muscles make a stronk cradle of sorts.

Titania heaves out a sigh that reeks of alcoholic swill. With Joshua becoming the representative for the neighbourhood, she has something to really focus all her attention on. Helpfully packaging everything she feels the need to scoff and denigrate at in a living and breathing person.

"They exist, isn't that enough of an insult? Mistakes from what I can tell. Look at 'em, pretending to carry on like things can be normal."

She jams a thumb up into her sternum. "I'm ex-ceptional, raised up, nothing twisted about my genes. I'm the puh-pinnacle of what can be gotten on purpose. Nobody deserves nothing. Except a beating. You offering yourself up, kid?"

Joshua Foley has posed:
"If I have to. But it wouldn't go well for you."

This is true but he doesn't say it in a threatening way, nothing aggressive or rude. Just calm, as calm as he can manage. He's faced down monsters before and Mary is one, no doubt, however attractive her packaging.

"You're mad at them for naturally being what you made yourself?" he asks, cocking his head. "Doesn't make much sense. You're just a bully, I'm guessing," he says.

Subtly, his power starts to go to work, his skin shifting fully to proper gold as he engages it, his body shining as an ornament as he starts to shift her endocrine system into action, filling her blood with fatigue toxins and lethargy, making her feel slow and drowsy. Like she should take a seat, take a load off. Like he's too much effort. Like the neighborhood is too much effort.

It would take a lot to use his power to hurt her. Her tissues are highly resilient. He'd be black as coal for a week from the effort. He doesn't want to bear the mark of his transgressions at Christmas time.

Mary McPherran has posed:
Mary's frown turns upside down, becoming cheerful but there's nothing good and golden in her laugh that rumbles out of her. It almost transforms her looks into something stellar, that moment of mirth. But it's still coming from an ugly place. The gut-laugh blurts forth with spittle and spite.

Her sledge is upended, and thrust into the asphalt pommel first so it can stand on its own. "You're getting both hands, blondie. I wouldn't want to..."

That arm that made the street hold her hammer feels something strange. She gives it a shake, bunching the fist and flexing. The fluidity of her system is pretty good at overcoming much, but maybe this is an aftereffect of the costumed freaks she had to tussle with before they beat a retreat. "...I'm not just nuthin, I'm practically cosmic, I'm fucking divine. Your guessing is..." That momentary sapping she felt, so strange to feel something akin to fatigue. It's been so long since she ever had a whiff of it. Even tussling with Shulkie there's always gas in the tank.

A hand comes up to her head to massage, and then to slap herself. Once, twice, loud reports like gunshots as that super resilient flesh hits itself. She goes a little cross-eyed, yawning her jaw open to try and shed the tiredness. A shake of her head just makes things dizzier.

Mary leans against the truck and its suspension creaks and groans like her muscles and bones feel like echoing. "Of course you'd be one of them. What's yer power...the living Emmy? Ossscar for best male lead?" Swaying, Mary growls and feels her thighs trembling as she tries to stay upright against this losing battle. Hate takes a lot of energy, and there's no reserves when she's got to try and stay awake.

Joshua Foley has posed:
Joshua Foley puts the hands in the pocket of his jacket, tossing back back his somewhat floppy hair, shaved on the sides but with enough bang for a dramatic gesture.

"My name's Elixir," he says, using his mutant name, his chosen name. "The skin's kind of a side effect. My power's biokinesis. Which is a complicated way of saying that I can control living things. I can heal or hurt. I can rearrange your insides. I can lock you in place. I can put you to sleep," he says.

"Oh. And I can't die. So killing me won't really help," he says. "Plus, you probably can't feel your fingers by now. I've inhibited some of your neural net. Nothing dangerous. You'll be fine. But you won't be swinging on me today."

He sighs, "I'm sorry about all of it. I don't like doing things like this. But it's better than really hurting you. Or letting you hurt anybody else."

Mary McPherran has posed:
Mary manages to raise her head, fixing an eye on Joshua. The other eye takes a second longer to follow suit and focus. As tired as she is, there's a baleful quality still. "Lick Sir...I'll remember." she says in a low tone that vibrates out of her. Not a purr, but gravel in a mixing truck.

With titanic effort, she swaggers, pushing off from the truck clumsily to get some forward motion. Try to get some distance away from this leech on her fabulousness. "You'll be sorry later, I'll make sure, don't worry." she pants.

"You sound like one of my Ex's, always promising this and that, thinking you're the boss of me. He found out eventually too, there's no one that decides what I'm gonna do. Have fun with all the rest of the Who's."

She growls weakly and really wishes she had that hammer to use as a crutch now. But chances are she wouldn't feel much like lifting it. "You couldn't hurt my feelings. Keep your pity. I'm too powerful to be pitied."

Joshua Foley has posed:
Joshua Foley is glad that she's starting to move away from them. He keeps the levels pumping because he needs it to linger even when she gets away fro his control. Even with his power no longer affecting her, she should be weary for at least a couple of hours. He'll drop a note to keep an eye out for her.

"I probably should've asked her name. Someone like that has to have a record," he sighs. He's still not very good at this superhero business. Which he was only sometimes a superhero.

Josh's life was complicated. But he did have an Avengers ID. Maybe he should go and look in their databases. Just in case.