2612/Scent of Purpose

Scent of Purpose
Date of Scene:	25 July 2020
Location:	Domino's Safehouse
Synopsis:	Victor and Domino talk about Genosha and that jerk Wolverine, while posturing a little.
Cast of Characters:	Victor Creed, Neena Thurman

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Victor Creed has posed:
Domino's safehouse smells ... amazing. Just /amazing/.

Not due to Victor Creed himself, but what he's doing. He's making an artery-clogging protein insanity in the kitchen. Steak. Eggs. Bacon. Sausage. It's heavy duty, and the scent of it has filled the safehouse.

Even from the entryway there's some evidence of Creed: he doesn't clean up after himself particularly, and his mud and blood-crusted boots are dumped near the couch, along with some mixed gear. But the big male himself is in the kitchen.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Day. Night. After a filling run of shooting people and driving fast cars, it really doesn't matter when-

Eggs, sausage, bacon... it all smells DAMNED good. It fills the small safehouse, it fills the rooms, it fills tthe stairwell on the walkup, proclaiming there may be a brief change of lifestyle.

Dom catches it on the way out of her shower. Long, hot shower, and emerging from the bathroom with her towel, the albino merc pauses in her step and raises her head to smell the aroma. There's that moment of fear that it might be an unwanted, unwanted visitor, but with a glance at the hall, she recognizes the boots immediately. And, well, the fact that they're bloody lends a hint. But, they're set aside. Awwww.

Domino pads back to her room, gets her leathers on, and with a hand run through still wet hair, she re-emerges, looking more herself as she zips up the front of her shirt. (Yes, one of those.)

"Man... might have t'keep you around."

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor knew exactly where she was. Those senses. He was fully aware of what she was doing, and in which room, as well as whoever else in the nearby apartments. And what they are doing and cooking and the rest of it. Awareness is both useful and a type of curse.

"Don't need to zip up on my account," snickers the tall male, Victor, that is checking through one of the steaks. He didn't turn around; he heard her do it, one of those slightly pointed ears in the mane of dirty blonde currently pulled back into a ponytail. The steak's still bloody, of course. He can (and has) eaten raw meat, but it's /better/ with a marinade and a bit of a grill on it. Small efforts for big rewards when there is time to do it.

"Got questions," Victor comments, finally looking at her over his shoulder. "'Bout that mission on the ship. You, Blink, some X-Men... others?"

Neena Thurman has posed:
Even Dom likes her meat when it's attacking the salad on the plate next to it, but this isn't one of those times. Eggs have to be solid; not even a hint that a chicken could survive the cooking! (Because, chickens!)

There's that lopsided, black-lipped smile as she enters the kitchen, which suddenly becomes much tighter having the two in, instead of the one large male. Spinning a kitchen table chair around, she takes a seat, leaning forearms against the wooden back and rests her chin there. She's taking the 'no need to zip' as a compliment!

"The mission," Domino repeats and in the next second, softly inhales and the grin turns into something of a smirk. Not at his account, mind, but at the thought of the escapade. "Me, Blink, Myst was there for part of it. 'Least, I saw her at one point." Forthcoming. She has a price?

Victor Creed has posed:
She's got decent timing to exact her fee; he's put things piled onto two plates, drops those off on the table center, finds some others and sits in the other chair. He sits in his properly, though with his wide spread of leg and limb, he takes up a ton of space there.

Victor doesn't suggest she take what she wants from the pile in the center, just sort of assumes it. He is not, in fact, particularly a great cook - the eggs are a variety of levels of cooked, so she can probably find something closed to scrambled in there. Almost all of the meat is pretty rare, but a few are more charred. He picks his own out and starts to wolf it down without any real attempt to not be kind of brutal about it. He fits expectations!

"So what happened? Why'd the brotherhood not end up with the Genosha bits?" Victor questions.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Dom watches as Vic walks the food to the table and sets it down in the center. Plates, and pulling one towards her, she sorts and separates out what she wants, which is undoubtedly far less than what Victor is going to have. And that's perfectly fine.

Dom grabs a fork, as she's already got a knife on her, and starts to cut up the first bit of steak. It's bloody, but properly so. Popping that piece into her mouth, she chews, swallows and works back into the conversation at hand.

"I was on the drone with the forcefield. No idea how I got through it, but I did." Other than luck, that is. "Took out the drone that was holdin' all the jars and bottles on the shelves. After that forcefield came down, it became a free-for-all, and me and Blink forgot to bring a basket to carry all the crap in." Domino takes a couple of forkfulls of eggs, adds to the steak, and after that next bite, she considers her words as the scene plays before her again,

"Illyana has them, pretty sure. I was too busy workin' out how I wasn't gonna die when the ship did it's bellyflop into the water offshore."

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor doesn't like utensils much, and isn't using them for the most part-- he does for the eggs, he has a fork for that. Knives, though, no. He doesn't have wolverine's claws to make neat cuts, but that isn't a priority anyway. Ragged cuts it is: and Victor's talons are extremely sharp. They're fully extended on his left hand, working in skilled concert with the fork in his right. This is just normal, nothing special: just eggs, meat, bacon. He's entirely healed from his latest battle, but some calorie intake was very desired.

Victor snickers out a laugh at the lack of remembering to bring a basket. "A'ight. Illyana then." Victor looks at her: a piercing look, maybe. "Whoever's got 'em's taking their sweet time fixing them. I think they're stallin'. I can tell you've been at the mansion .... heard anything?"

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino's quickly filling up, and with one, two bites of her steak mixed with egg, she's done and pushes the plate towards the center. Once done, the merc leans back and rises from her chair by swinging a leg and up onto her feet. "We'll get 'em. She's part of X-Force now," Domino, well.. if she didn't mention Illyana was part of X-Force before, she sure is now. "We'll get 'em.

The albino crosses the distance to the coffee pot, and it's only a couple scant minutes before the pot begins to burble, dropping dark colored liquid into the carafe. She shakes her head and exhales in a soft chuff as she stands with her back to the counter for a moment. "Other than they've got good roast beef and Deadpool mixes his laundry? Nothing." She lifts her shoulder in a single-sided shrug. "Clarice might know more. She's there more often than I am. I'm a bad influence on the children."

Victor Creed has posed:
"Yeah. I'm workin' on Clarice," Victor answers in a relaxed way, with his mouth mostly full of food. He visually inspects his talons briefly, then resumes working through his meal, uninterested in her being done or leaving the table. He didn't think she'd eat much of it, and he was right.

"/I/ have a source that'll get this movin', fix Genosha, just needs the parts they're hoarding. Feels like the X-Men think it's their right to decide whether or not Magneto gets to be free again, or when." Victor smirks, sly smile growing. "Their morality skirt's slippin' up, is what I think. X-Force. Holdin' all the Genoshans hostage? I say we run a hand right UP that skirt."

Neena Thurman has posed:
Domino nods at the pronouncement that he's working on the Blinkster, though, "I can help with her, too. Been in more than a couple of scuffles together now." Still, she's easy. There are other places where she can be useful to the better good.

"Can visit Richards. That asshole tried to buy my DNA before. Could go in, tell him I changed my mind, and we grab him." Of course it wouldn't be that easy, but if they wanted to truly get something done?

The coffee finishes its brewing, and she turns around to grab a mug before filling it with the black, hot goodness. "That," and she gestures with the mug, "is probably one of the worst pictures in my head now becaue all I can see is Wolverine in a kilt." Just.. no. "Probably not the picture you were goin' for, but.. there it is."

Victor Creed has posed:
"Richards? No. That's just askin' for more nonsense. All those groups talk to each other, pretty damn sure," Victor snorts. Fantastic Four doesn't sound like a good idea. "Honestly I'd rather Doctor Doom," he snickers. At least that way some interesting deal would come out of it, wouldn't there? And they wouldn't be beholden to 'hero' groups and all their concerns...

The suggestion about Wolverine in a kilt makes Victor rest back in his chair with a deep, loud laugh. He laughs a while, in a snide, but open way, his long fangs clearly on display, with a very real mirth.

Neena Thurman has posed:
"Actually," and her words come slowly, "My experience is they don't like to talk to each other. They've got their little bits of land, and they hate to share infor." Dom's got her coffee now, which makes her a more functioning member of society, after a fashion. Her hair is drying into that characteristic mop, and she's looking like she's almost ready to face her day. "They'll give lip service to it, but ask 'em for it? Hell no. They take an' take, pretending they'll give back."

She's done with that.

Dom actually barks a laugh at the suggestion of Doom. "At least you know what you're gettin' with him?" She shakes her head and takes a tentative sip of her coffee. "I'm just curious who you got in mind.."

It's when Vic laughs at her, and yes.. he is, thankyouverymuch, that she wants to throw something at him. She doesn't; instead, she laughs too and shakes her head. "Never, never bring that up. Ever... got it?" Beat.

"Ever."

Victor Creed has posed:
"Yeh. You can always count on Doom, or whoever, t' follow the same good motives like ... money," Victor replies. Victor likes money. He understands it, and understands others who value it. "Or wantin' a challenge. Or if you're Doom -- ehh, also killing and humiliating, right?" Based on the threats that have been heard around the world at various times by the noisy villain, anyway.

Victor laughs heavily, a warmly pleasant purr of sound in his chest now, as the laugh reduces. It's a rare pleasant noise from the brutal mutant, as the laugh relaxed him: it chilled out some of the sly darkness and relaxed his burly shoulders. "Mostly interested in putting his insides on the outsides; don't care what he's dressed in. Y'can have your fantasies to y'self." Heh heh.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Money. The language of the world.

"See, makes dealing with a person easy. I like money, you like money. There's common ground there. Everyone's got a price where they'll start bein' honest with you. Just a matter of findin' it." Free ammunition is a pretty good price.

Dammit Victor. Now he's //purring// in her goddamned kitchen. Damn sociopathic killer is actually being... cute. Not intentionally, of course, but..

"Not one of my fantasies. Seriously." Looking over her cup as she takes another swallow, she's studying him consideringly. "I got my own, and he has nothing to do with 'em."

Though?

Domino puts her mug aside slowly before slowly stalking to where he sits, and she moves behind him to put her hands on his shoulders, leaning forward to whisper in his ear with black lips. "If I asked you to, could you play nice with him? Just for a little while?"

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor observes her cross behind him, and when she actually steps back there, he stops watching her, instead finishing chewing the piece of steak he'd been eating. He low sound vibrates in his chest again; maybe not a purr, maybe more of a laugh, but it's a deep and primal noise.

"Define 'play nice'," Victor responds, smoothly. "And you're gonna need to either have a damn /good/ reason .... or, as we just talked about - a lot of money." Victor makes a small noise against the inside of his teeth, hands splaying out on the table, all of his monstrously large talons coming out on display. He hadn't had the claws fully extended for steak cutting, and he reveals that now, dangerous broad hands of tank-side-ripping ferocity.

Neena Thurman has posed:
Hands are on his shoulder, and she's almost leaning on him; she's got her attention on those hands, but she can feel every muscle in his back from her spot, just as he can probably feel her heart beating. She knows he can sense her, too.. it's a bit of a touch, anticipating a movement, and her hands move to feel those muscles, the hard sinews born of creation and honed by life. It's when those claws come out that the breath in his ear pauses for a heartbeat before,

"Don't try to gut him immediately," is whispered. Domino's a realist. That is 'playing nice' when it comes to Creed. "I might have an idea, but I gotta work out plans. You're my wildcard," and she says that so .. honestly, and it's not an insult. "I can trust you," to be him.

"But, I'm not sayin' that you gotta hold it if he's stupid."

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor gathers in what she's asking of him, and scowls heavily. She won't see it, and he doesn't tense up, but he does growl in a mix of displeasure and some sort of territorial annoyance. He's aware of her presence and her attempt at some sort of interesting seduction at his back.

He's not immune to those sorts of things either, though if he really had an argument with it, he'd not have an issue moving in bloody retort.

"There's plenty o' times I've stalked him or messed with him, and didn't ambush when I could've," Victor points out darkly. "I can play the long game... if I know what's at the end." Meaning, he'll go along with her, if he's in on the plot.

Neena Thurman has posed:
This is a delicate dance. There's luck, and then there's //luck//.

Domino is under no illusion that Victor is anything but dangerous. Blood lust goes many, many different directions. Is she afraid of him? Not really, though at times? Will she ever be complacent around him? Never. Ever. But there is that heady thrill that is felt as she lightly touches those muscles. She can feel the feral, smell the feral, and, well...

Pressing in a little, she working around how to push her luck, in the direction she wants it to go. //Those. Claws.//

"And I'm glad t'hear it." She's not being sarcastic, or snarky. It's information gained and set to be utilized later. "Thing is, I don't know what that is yet. I wanna talk to him." Beat. "Talk."

After the last word is given, her hands move up, cresting his shoulders, but can't go too much farther. He's.. big, and she's not. So, instead, she takes a step sideways while keeping contact. "No guessing. I'll lay it out plain for you."

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor observes all of her physical movement, her dance - but it's all handled via just his subconscious. He'll use his instincts to rule how he feels about it, how he reacts to it, without much conscious attempt to decipher it at all. She clearly wants to coax him to something - something that includes not ripping up his enemy on sight, which isn't THAT big of an ask in reality - but isn't acting in a fearful way.

Victor's great at smelling fear. She has something else going on there, not afraid of him. Victor turns in his chair, rotating more towards her as she steps sideways, looking at her out of the side of his eye before turning both leonide amber eyes onto her fully. He knee is now somewhat in the way of her coming around him, but he pulled the foot back, in under his chair. And she's allowed to maintain contact at his shoulder, near part of his loose dirty blonde ponytail of hair. He's in an army green tank shirt, so there's a lot of open shoulder there.

"Mmmhmmm," Victor prompts.

Neena Thurman has posed:
There's a light tug on her shirt's zipper, but nothing too revealing. It's the sound she's looking for just for his heightened senses. It's that other bit, though, and it's a matter of balance and timing. Blue eyes narrow again as she moves, her actions deliberate.

Leaning in slowly, Domino is there, ready to lay a kiss on his top lip in light encouragement, one hand moving to caress the side of his bewhiskered face. At the same time, however, her other hand is making a quick, blind grab for a fork left from the earlier meal. In the next few heartbeats, the attempted caress turns into a feigned attack, one right after the other. Slow and deliberate motion turns into rapid and sure movement, and she's ready to dodge (most) of those claws while remaining clear of purpose. She's playing on his 'always ready', feline reactions, and hoping for a desired outcome.

It's a dangerous game to play, particularly with this mutant.

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor's ear moves just a little at the motion and sound of her top, and that deep quiet laugh returns: a low chuckle as he picks up on the game very quickly. She's dangling a toy in front of the kittycat, here, now.

One clawed hand came in to escort her hip when she leaned in as if to place a kiss. But then she changes it up, and perks his interest. Victor doesn't make any motion to disarm her from the fork, not at all, he lets her keep it: he's moving on his own, sliding his head down and in. Claws are at her hip, but the main movement is a duck of head in to apply fang at her neck a little, a threat on the pulse of her neck there.

Maybe a bit of a bite. Hopefully that was the desired outcome.