2013.08.30 - Frequent Fighters

It's about an hour after people started to leave Belvedere Castle. Grey decided to skip out for a while, which is probably for the better. Domino decided that finding something to eat was in order (and figured that Tabs would tag along for the free meal.) Cable..is more likely than not to follow as well, because she also has a habit of disappearing without a trace and being very difficult to pin down.

That, and the whole 'having shit to talk about' matter.

There's a nice diner not too far away, with really good air conditioning which is one of the reasons why she likes to stop in here on days like today. She's got herself wedged into the corner of a booth at an angle, naturally with a good view of the rest of the joint. There's a basket of seasoned fries and some dipping options in the middle of the table and a blood orange margarita sitting in front of her (the second one to have found its way in front of her.)

She hasn't said much about what the deal is with herself, trying to keep the conversation focused on Tabitha. Turns out that the offered codename is registered, which gave Dom a chance to fire up the ol' smartphone and do some checking up on the other girl.

Apparently she's now supplying yet another underage kid with free liquor. She's such a bad influence sometimes.

"Given your track record I'm a little surprised you didn't detonate the boat before we left," she offhandedly comments while looking at the screen of her phone.

Cable can wait his damned turn.

Tabitha beams with pride about being able to be researched by another person. This vampire woman was giving her all the attention she wanted. No, *deserved*. Cause Boom-Boom. Anyway, she was woofin' down hell-of curly fries, all the while talking. Comments such as, "You should've seen the time I chased some purse-snatcher perverts out of the Motel 6 with a parade of bombs. Only part of the building burned down, but it was amazing. Those jerks totally got jailed," might've been more clearly understood if she didn't say it with a mouth full of food.

Of course Nate accompanies the girls to the diner. For some reason, it seems as if he -has- to. Well, he does. Domino isn't going to get too far out of his sight again before he can talk with her, and the new kid is interesting, if not a little off-kilter.

Why is it that sort of personality quirk seems to draw him? He couldn't name one 'normal' person he's worked with in years. With Deadpool at the top of THAT list.

Seated on the booth next to Domino, though kept at leg's length, Nate is happy enough stealing some of the seasoned fries, though he's added a dark beer to it. A porter. And onion rings. And potato skins with extra sour cream on the side.

"Bombs.. bombs?"

That beer... Porter. Dom's not sure if it's funny, irritating, or depressing how little details like that cause fresh spikes in her memory. She's only spent a matter of hours in Cable's company since he 'dusted off' her mind and already she can remember what he likes on his hamburger, how well done he likes his steak, what his favorite color is, which cars he'll never be caught using, how long he can sprint before starting to get winded...

It's like someone just uploaded the Encyclopedia Cabellica directly into her conscious mind. Frankly it's kinda pissing her off, too. She can't not think about the man anymore. There's too much to push out, too many details to shut down.

Boom-Boom here is a good distraction, even without detonating their table at the diner.

Bombs, Cable," she repeats with an irritated sigh, the hand that had been rubbing at her temple now heavily dropping down to the table. "Do we need to draw you a picture?"

Sweeping her focus back to Tabitha, she adds in "I'm also surprised that you've managed to stay listed as a good guy with all of this property damage." Simply put, destruction follows her wake. Dom can kinda relate to that... "Doesn't really mesh with what a lot of people have come to see as being a 'hero.'"

"Yeah, I can throw these little 'splodin' poppy-mathingie-jiggers," Tabitha confirmed, this being the first time she could easily be understood, taking a pause from her feeble attempt to staunch her hangover, speaking with much zeal (and volume) for a restaurant establishment with a few other patrons within earshot. Tabby was oblivious to them as she nodded in response to Domino's suggestion that thoughtless destruction could perhaps be not awesome.

"Real chaos maker, lemme tell ya. Nobody likes unexpected explosions, I've discovered," she says instructively. Gulpin' the last of her food, she considers ordering more, especially with somebody else paying, but begins to think about the other two sitting there in a rare moment of unself-centeredness. Besides, she'd already told them all about her apartment in Mutant Town, her parents, her favorite TV shows, her recent love of faux-ragamuffin couture, and her history as a pick-pocket. Our lady of TMI.

"What's the story with you two? Trying to decide which twin to hook up with?" she says suggestively, and tactlessly, to Domino.

"I'm working out where they come from. Not the fact they're there, Dom," Cable explains quietly. At least he understands there are other patrons in the diner. And, honestly, out of the three of them, a big guy who is half-bionic certainly does gain some attention. At least there aren't too many people who care at the moment. "How are they generated?"

Nate's attention is on Tabs a little more, his beer pulled in slow swallows. Looking to the side for a moment, his brows rise, "You're one to talk about collateral damage." Well, so is he. Didn't they torch a house only a day or so ago?

Honestly, Nate is more than happy to -not- discuss much about himself. Thatway leads to madness, in all its forms. Though the comment made to Domino gains a look from Cable, complete with a silent 'Are you?'.

How is it that a woman that doesn't like talking about her past to anyone somehow gets caught up with half of her life story hanging in the balance, with a chaotic eighteen year old?

(Always knew my luck would run out at the worst possible time...)

To be fair it was his idea to torch that house. She just destroyed most of the kitchen and basement. "I'm also not a registered hero," she replies with a similar flat tone.

With a practiced motion Domino blanks the screen on her phone, tripping the security lock to keep prying hands out of her business as she turns it face-down onto the table. Her pale, narrowed gaze shifts back to Cable, the guy looking almost ridiculous with having crammed himself into their booth. For his sake it's a good thing the table isn't bolted to the floor.

"No," she starts in while looking right back to Tabitha. "They're both from the future. They're apparently related, yet apparently from completely different timelines."

They're the same, only different. Confused yet? 'It's complicated' can be taken to a whole new level.

Thumbing toward Nate, she says "This wingnut and I may have had a thing going on a while back."

But maybe not today. She's still giving it some thought.

Tabitha blinks with the confusion of a doe-eyed fawn with all this talk about timelines and what-not. "Yeah, I like Phillip K. Dick, too," was the only way she could think of responding. With eyes scanning for the waitress, she jokingly wondered to herself if the waitress had perhaps fallen into another timeline and that's why she couldn't locate her to order more food.

"I guess it's not possible to un-register, is it?" she idly wondered aloud.

The question, thus answered, isn't quite what Nate's wanted to hear. Considering what he'd told the other Nate (confused yet?) only a scant hour and a half or so ago. He looks at her, studies her with a lingering gaze, searching for something that even he doesn't know, but maybe he will if he sees it? "Yeah. It wasn't too bad, either."

Turning away, Nate takes another swallow of his beer and reaches for one of the rapidly cooling potato skins. A deep breath is drawn, and he nods his acknowledgment of what it was Domino said.

The future part.

"No, we don't dream of Electric Sheep."

As for the future stuff, a shrug comes from the large man. "It's getting to the point of knowing what's going to happen in the future is more of a burden than anything else."

Unregister? "Nothing's impossible," Domino offhandedly replies. "Might be difficult, but not impossible." Pause. Frown. "Having second thoughts?"

(Yeah, did you see this one coming, Nate?)

Then comes her own second thoughts. He's always seen everything. As improbable as it always seemed from the start, and she's real good with the improbable stuff, it always came true in the end. Blind trust. Faith. Even when none of the other mercs would back his play, taking their money and walking, she had always been there, standing at his side. Waiting for their next move.

She quickly attempts to drown the memories out with another go with the margarita, hoping that at the very least she can get lucky enough to experience some brain freeze for once. Burn the thoughts out like one would freeze a mole off of the arm.

No such luck. It's like a cerebral infection, she can't shake it, can't claw it out.

"So how's the hero..ing..thing..going for you these days?" she quickly asks Tabitha, fighting with herself to change the subject in her mind.

During Dom's drinkie, Tab eyes Cable with considerable suspicion: "You're really from the future?"--somehow overlooking his nearly half-bionic body. She adopts a terribly impression of Arnold Schwarzenegger: "Hoysta Libeasta, bahyby," concluding with a quick, fluttering giggle. "Hook me up with some lotto, dude. Pictures or it didn't happen!"

But when Domino asked her about herself, she couldn't resist following the subject change to her again. Cause Boom-Boom. "Yeah, well, I guess it's been kinda slow. I only stumble onto stuff happening. Living in ye olde Mutant Town helps keep things fresh. Honestly, I'm just biding my time with this hero business til I get my own talk show. Or cult. Whichever comes first." Then she smiles.

"I'm sure I can help you disappear if that's what you want. Pull you off the rosters," Nate offers. "That's not going to give you permission to blow more stuff up, however. It's going to require a little self-control on your part."

And he's not even asking for money to do it.

"Mind if I ask why you might want that?"

Though now, Cable can't help but chuckle. "Not sharing those. How do you think I fund my operation?" He doesn't really play the lottery! "Actually, I'll only work out the winning ticket if the guy who won turns out to be a major world leader that's bent on destruction, and he got all his seed money from Powerball." Nate shrugs ever so slightly, "I only really worry about the big stuff. The stuff that concerns mutants. Front page stuff, and sometimes the stuff that's buried on page 15 is pretty important too." Glancing at Domino again, his gaze lingers yet again. "She knows. Most of the time, she's not the one asking, 'You sure you read that right, big guy?'."

Shaking his head, Nate gestures with his beer, "Hate to tell you, though. Sorry, no cult."

Oh, lord. With that awful Austrian impression Dom's eyebrows hook upward, rubbing furiously at one of her ears in a failed attempt to now get that mess out of her head.

Little does Tabitha know that for winning lottery numbers she could not have asked for a better mix of mutants to be in the company of. Cable can see the future. Domino can make it happen. It's no wonder they had gotten to be so close back in the day.

A cult. Hoboy. This gal with a talk show is frightening enough, but a cult? Dom's thinking that maybe someone needs to run interference, again. A wary glance is passed back to Cable as her forehead rests heavily within a gloved palm, as if silently demanding 'please tell me this doesn't happen.' He's from the future, he should know!

Oh, thank god.

Another slow breath, one of many this week, is released back out into the wild. To that the usual 'sales pitch' comes right up to the front of her memory. (God I feel so used. Like a backup hard drive.) "He came back here to right wrongs in order to prevent future catastrophies from occurring," she half-grumbles, sounding tired. "And to annoy the living shit out of me."

'No cult that you KNOW of! Cause Boom-Boom will burn out AND fade-away!' thought Tabitha to herself, now somehow willing to accept that Mister Roboto was indeed a transplant from the future. She'd read about some weird stuff in the news in the last few years, anyway.

"Hmm. I guess I don't have much of a reason. I just don't wanna end up being inspiration for one of those Women's Prison's tv shows," she decided conclusively. Back-tracking in conversation, she asserts: "What happened in the future? Mutants get tired of being rolled on and just take over?"

"I've got a few years to pull from, Boom, sorry." And Cable sounds genuinely apologetic. "No mass suicides. No mass explosions in your name. Which," and he holds his empty bottle in the air between them, "Isn't a bad thing."

Draining the last bits, Nate finally sets it back on the table, off to the side.

Thankfully, Nate misses the entire reference to Ahnold. Pop culture? Not necessarily that high on his list of things learned about this time.

"Domino's right. This time is pretty much one of the major pivot points. It can go good or completely bad on any given day here. I have a good idea of touch points, but sometimes I can't do anything about it until things have already started." Much to his chagrin.

Looking beside him again, at the albino merc, Cable has something of a wistful expression before he nods his agreement, his acknowledgment. "I need a lot of help. Some, I can do alone. Most of it?" Nope. "And Domino is the best at what she does."

A soft chuckle follows the mention of a prison TV show. Now, see, that's something that Dom could see happening with a person like Boom! Then the 'no mass suicides or mass explosions' earns a single thumbs up from the albino, despite appearing as though she's not paying all that much attention to the idea.

"It really all depends," she agrees. "Not that I've spent any real time jumping around. It's a bit more concrete than chaos theory, doesn't matter if you pull the wings off of the butterfly. You just end up with one very ugly butterfly that's about to become an easy meal for something else."

(Why do I know so much about this? Wait, don't answer that.)

The compliment soon headed her way earns another one of those annoyed looks, leveled directly at Nate. Really? (And next Boom's probably going to ask what it is that I do,) she sourly thinks while polishing off the rest of her tart poison of choice.

"I have my moments," she says to try and deflect the subject.

"But can you trust a blood-sucker?" Tabitha asks Cable with a hint of sarcasm, while still not entirely unsure on if the profoundly fair-skinned woman is somehow an undead. Not that she'd ever met one, but c'mon: this guy was from the future... maybe there's vampires in the future. Who knows about this Cable and his 'Touch Points'. One thing that Boomer did know, aside from her complaining stomach and the aching, knee-jerk teenager need to check her phone, was that these two are interesting enough to stalk...er, befriend. Yeah, she'd make them her SUPER HERO POSSEE. But how was she going to take leadership with these two around?

As Domino begins to expound on the theory of time, and relativity, Cable can't help but keep that somewhat wistful smile. It's there. She's all there.. and not only had she learned it all, she -understood- it. The importance. The ramifications. And how to discern the important from the un-.. and why.

That's his girl.

The annoyed look only gains a pleased smile. One that simply states, Truth.

Looking towards Tabitha, the question actually gives him a moment's pause. "What?" Beat. "I don't." Not to watch--

"Wait. You think..." and Nate's voice trails off before he starts to chuckle. "No. No, she's not." Looking at Domino again, he can't help but laugh softly. "And I do trust her. I trust her to do what she thinks is 'right' and what needs to be done."

Well, accusing her of being a vampire is one way to avoid talking about her whole X-Gene thingus. While Nate's busy explaining that she's not, Domino gives Boom an evil stare and hisses, with a showing of teeth and all.

No fangs.

"I'm an albino," she follows up with a bored tone. Like she's covered this ground before. "'But I thought they didn't have dark hair,' well I do. Yes, the sun hates me. It's all in the genes. Real fucking lucky."

(That should cover all of the usual questions.)

Another fry is snagged, drowned in cheese sauce, then ripped to pieces. Don't think that Nate's look, and shift in expression, had been overlooked. Even when she's not making direct eye contact the guy's rarely left her peripheral vision. If she's going to be stuck with all of these memories the least she can do is attempt to acknowledge them.

It would be easier to do if she wasn't trying so blasted hard to stay pissed off at him.

"You're pretty sentimental for a post-apocalyptic military dude," Tabitha says with a sudden gush of sincerity. Maybe these two were the real deal, she thought to herself... they obviously have been working together as a team. "I guess I could offer to help you out," she confidently offers, the wheels in her head turning, "Who do we take out first to save Earth and Time?" she asked with a confusingly earnest tone, while considering letting out the flatulence she'd been holding in for nearly two minutes.

And if she acknowledges them? There's hope. Too much shared, to be shared.

Cable pushes the half eaten plate of potato skins in Domino's direction, but not without grabbing one and slathering it in sour cream. It's a quick bite and a lick of his fingers before he looks back at Boom's comment.

"Never said I was post-apocolyptic," Nate corrects. "Actually, the future is amazing. The stuff learned, the sciences, the arts. Mathematics. But it all doesn't get to be that way without blood, sweat and tears." Too many little things threaten. "As far as being sentimental? Everyone has their weakness." Cable -cares-. He puts his heart into it, and believes in 'it' one hundred percent.

"Now," leaning his bulk upon the table, careful that he doesn't actually put too much weight there, Nate's voice lowers conspiratorially. "No one. Yet." How's that for an answer. "We have to get you cleaned up first. See what you can do. And can't." He puts a hand out just to forestall any complaints, or any announcements of ability. "It's not fair to you, and it's not fair to us, both going in blind. I expect teamwork. And that means being able to anticipate moves that aren't in the gameplan."

Sentimental. (You don't know the half of it, kid.)

The offer for help is something that Domino overlooks, initially. Young, reckless, impulsive, with a power that most likely causes more harm than good..? Yeah, no thanks. She still prefers to work alone. Though, with the question of what the next target is she once more looks to Cable, as if to snarkily ask 'Yeah Nate, what is our next move?'

Fried pieces of potato. Now that they're right in front of her and all it can be expected that several more will share the fate of their brothers. Drowned in sauce, eaten, repeat as necessary.

"He treats the timeline better than he treats his daughter." Bam. (Not out of the woods yet, buster.)

Blink. Wait, what? Is he really considering bringing Boom into all of this? And..team. A team tends to be more than two. Why, that would mean...

(Oh, goddamnit. Don't say the words, Nate, just..don't..say the words...)

Tabitha Smith's heart momentarily ponders if she can somehow get a hover-board before actually considering Cable's words, and almost getting offended by the mere possibility that that her combat skills could conceivably be less than stellar. Sure, she grew up fist-fighting in the streets, but maybe this guy had gone up against dudes like that crazy Joker-sonnvabitch from Gotham that's frequently in the news. She could use a mentor, but she wasn't going to admit that out loud.

"You're all chess-master 'bout this, huh? Alright, mister Want-To-Know-Stuff. You can learn about my powers. Annnd my jokes," she says with a hint of compliance. "Lemme toss you two my digits. Are either of you on Twitter?" she asks, pulling out her phone (finally!) and noticing a back scroll of 39 text messages. Faaak.

Oh, Nate knows his next move in terms of their current 'mission'. He's just not sure where Boom would fit in it yet. And he's not willing to go in blind and have a trial by fire for all of them. Thatway lies failure. So, the young Boom-Boom may sit the next dance out, but something closer to home may very well be the trick.

"I treat--" Wait! "I have no clue who this person is. You can't hold me accountable for not knowing what the hell is going on. I only found out about this 'daughter' a couple of hours ago. Did you want me to go running out and find her so I can bring her home and make her family?" Because that's not going to happen, and if there is any doubt? "Give me a chance, here. I'm trying."

Now, frustration is beginning to set in.

He has to take a deep breath to give himself a chance to relax. Of everything and everyone, this is the most important thing for him. Now, he can almost -hear- Domino's thoughts even as he forms the question. "Dom." There is the hesitation, the belief that by laying this out, it puts him right into the line of fire for rejection. "You in?"

He lingers there for a long couple of heartbeats before he slides his attention back to Tabitha. Nodding his head slowly, "It's not only us learning about your powers, Boom, but you learning how we do things."

Leaning to pull out his cell, Nate shakes his head, "No, I'm not on Twitter. But once you have my cell, I'll be able to catch your message from anywhere." Literally.

There's another one of those sighs, when Nate asks for his chance. Yes, Dom's being hard on the guy. She wants to see him break, just the once, before she'll feel like some proper justice has been served. She's not afraid to cheat to get what she wants, either.

"This guy has a strategic plan for organizing his sock drawer," she oh so helpfully points out.

And..bam. There's the words she had been dreading. Not 'I'm sorry' or 'I love you' or any of that sentimental bullshit. The words she had been dreading are so much more simple: You in?

Blue eyes pinch shut, the response almost as automatic to her as racking the slide on her pistols upon reloading them. "Shut up, of course I'm in."

(Speaking of being all sentimental...) This woman is the only one out of all of the other mercs Cable had ever worked with that sticks by his side because of that whole loyalty crap. Some things never change, and damn him yet again for knowing it.

Time to ante up. She, too, gets in on the swapping of numbers. (Hope you know what you're doing, Nate. Of course he knows, he always knows.)

"Not real big on social networking, myself. Try not to abuse your contact privileges."

"You make it sound ominous like... Summer School," Tabitha quips, completely oblivious to any lurking X-puns in her words. She looks back down at her phone, finger-tappin' away. "What do you guys think of the X-Men? Been following them in the news," she says curiously, not realizing that it was an incredibly obvious thing to say... how could any mutant not be attentive to their activities? She figures that this little free lunch is ending soon, and she'd better say something cheerleaderish to mark the occasion!

"Yeah! Go team!" was all she could think of, and the words fell out of her mouth in Tabitha's typical is-she-sarcastic-or-serious-we'll-never-know-for-sure fashion.

"I like having socks that match," is offered flatly.

Nate is getting closer to the breaking point, but there are gives and takes which keeps his anger and frustration in check. There are times when it flares, sure, and he tries hard to bring it back down to reasonable. Sometimes, it's harder than other times.

Though now, as he watches the albino merc, Nate knows that it's an agonizing question.

And there, there it is. Her answer.

If he was holding his breath, he lets it out. Her response was automatic. Natural. Like the Domino that has always had his back, through thick and thin. This, now, doesn't seem anywhere as insurmountable as it had only moments before. She was still on his side. Still had some belief in him.

And that makes for a happy Nate.

Looking back to Tabitha, Nate seems as if his shoulders have lightened; that burden lifted if only by a few pounds. "X-Men?" And he is more than happy to expound (quietly) regarding the existance and mythical status such mutants have attained until the nibbles on the table are consumed, as is that drink that seems to languish in front of Domino.

'What do you guys think of the X-Men?'

"Broken," Domino replies, just as much out of impulse as a moment ago. The question barely had time to be processed. She had been there. She, too, occasionally updates herself on what's happening. Lately it would appear that amounts to 'not a whole lot,' or they've slipped even further beneath her radar.

(And I'm so the person to be talking about things being broken these days.)

Boom's been enlisted. Nate had backed the albino up against the proverbial wall, so she's in. There's only one thing left to do here.

"I'll go cash us out."