Midnight Shadows Guided Games GENEsis: DOFP Genesis In Character Days of Future Past [NYC] Something else entirely [Jenna / Eddie]


02-18-2019
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02-18-2019, 12:02 PM
Something else entirely [Jenna / Eddie] [Post #1]
Something else entirely.

Mutants are not the only new facet of human life that has emerged in the past years. There are those called 'supers', and then there are those affected by what can only be called 'alien'. For some, becoming 'other' is simply a part of growing older. For others, it is a change so fundamental, so painful. And yet, as always, change is the only thing that is inevitable - so all of these 'others' have to live with what they are.

Jenna Colemnan now is one of them. Born with an x-gene, she now not only registers as mutant but as a 'super' as well. Just that she had none of these labels handy for herself. She has no idea what to call herself now, or where she belongs. Ever since the group of 4 was resqued out of the Sentinels' claws, Jenna had gone dark. She has withdrawn a substantial amount of money, packed a few things and hopped from hostel to hostel since.

Location: to be named bar, at close to 11pm on a week night.


RULES
* This thread is for Eddie [Typh] & Jenna [Chrissie] initially. Crashing is allowed!
* It's been only days since Carol freed her from captivity.
* All GENEsis and Board rules apply.
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02-18-2019
12:48 PM
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02-18-2019, 12:48 PM
[In-Character] [Post #2]
It was cold. Jenna knew it was cold. Not freezing cold. Snow was supposedly out another week or two. But it was somewhere in the lower forties. Cold enough to require a coat, something with long-sleeves. Layers, many layers. Her breath vaporized in the evening air. It was late. Closer to midnight than to dinner time.

All of those were points of reference, just that none of them meant that much to her anymore. Jenna wore no more than a short sleeved black shirt and a jeans jacket. She felt warm. As warm out here than she had inside the little pub. Then the fact that she had had dinner. Two burgers. Fries enough to feed three. And yet? She felt an incredible craving for tacos. Hungry again.

And the alcohol? She had stopped counting the number of shots she had done. Yet all she felt was a small buzz.

So she could not even drink away the moment as she stood there in the dark, staring down at the phone she had just powered up.

Fifteen text messages.
Three voice mails.

All from Nathan.

A few more lone messages had come in from Lucas, Harley. Jenna had deleted them. She just couldn’t even humour the idea to hear from them or even face them.

Jenna picked the last message Nathan had left.

Jen, please. I’m worried. Please, call me back. We can figure this out.

He had sounded so defeated … so uncertain. It had made a sense of anger bubble up inside of her. Volatile enough for her to almost send her phone flying. Did he not know that she could not have him sound uncertain? He was her big brother, he needed to know these things. He needed to tell her what to do now. And yet, he was no mutant. He was more baseline than he even she had been before … before …

Jenna felt bile rise from her stomach. She inhaled deeply, gulping in air to force her stomach to settle once more. The memory still threatened to turn her stomach each time.

Shutting off the mobile she held in her hand, she slipped the gadget back into the back pocket of her jeans. She ran both hands through her long strands of brown hair and pulled them into a messy knot at the back of her neck with a hair tie she had had strapped around her wrist. Then she eyed the door of the pub and pushed her way back inside.

Reclaiming her seat, she picked up the bottle of beer she had left and finished it. Setting it down, Jenna looked for the bartender, trying to make eye contact. There was an empty shot glass sitting in front of her and waiting for a refill, paired with the bottle that needed to be switched out… why was it that the bartender never seemed to notice when she was in need of a refill.
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02-19-2019
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02-19-2019, 11:38 AM
[In-Character] [Post #3]
There was a girl at the end of the bar, sitting alone, with a double glass in front of her and a bottle of beer left at her disposal. He had made a comment about pairing the two and she hadn’t said anything much in response. Apparently she was ‘responsible’ enough. Sure. He could wait for hours to see just how responsible she felt that she could be. He had no where else to be other than exactly where he was at, mug pressed to taps filling another round for three ridiculously loud individuals intent on celebrating one last night of the shorter of the trio being a free man. They were loose enough with their wallets, but exceedingly obnoxious to the dozen other regular patrons attempting to socialize a late night away.

“Last round, boys.” He told them as he set all three mugs out before them. They were young, to some degree, at least a decade behind him in years, and they fronted the attitudes to match.

“Sure, man.” The taller blonde rolled his eyes and scoff, lifted his beer and toasted the supposed final round.

Brenda sidled up to the bar and set hers and her husband’s glasses down for refills, her eyes narrowing at the trio before she shook her head. Whiskey neat for him, rum and Dr. Pepper for her. It was an odd combination, if he thought about it, and he had brought it up when she had initially asked for it, citing her sister drank it often. She had asked for well rum, and he had substituted captain instead. She smiled and returned to her normal booth.

A glance down the bar had him finding the girl staring at him, waiting. There was little need to evaluate the bottle or the glass if she had her sights locked onto him. She wanted a refill. That she wasn’t tottering off her barstool yet was at least something. He had considered asking if she at least wanted a pizza to sop up all the alcohol, but she seemed intent on crashing.

He drew in a breath and moved back towards her, plucking up the Cuervo bottle en route. Stopping before her, he set the bottle in the bartop, set his hands against the inner edges and sighed. He was wondering how she was planning to get herself home, wondering if she was trying to figure that out every time she looked at her phone. Lifting drunk individuals home via motorcycle was not exactly safe, and he wasn’t exactly in the mood for it. Even if she still seemed with it more than the blubbering three at the other end of the bar.

“You want a sandwich or something?” He asked as he tipped the bottle towards the shot glass. “Or are you ridiculously intent on snapping that liver of yours like rubber band?”

He was surprised that each and ever time he made his way towards her, there were no additional comments made in regard to whatever he said to her. Venom did however perk at the mentioning of ‘liver’, his attention drawing back to the younger men. Eddie rounded the curiosity back, having already laid out an agreement to the next less than savory encounter being a go.
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02-19-2019
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02-19-2019, 12:44 PM
[In-Character] [Post #4]
Jenna had little interest to pay to any of the other patrons at the bar. The reason for her being here was mixture of a number of things after all. It took her off the street, saved her from having to find a place to spend the night where she would once more realise that a sleeping pattern was no longer existent in her body. It was an experiment. How much did she have to drink to feel anything, or possibly to forget.

The thought of her brother was one she needed to erase from her mind.

Considering to ask the bar tender what number of round she was in, she discarded the idea as soon as it arose. It was an odd question to say the least for someone her age and build. She should have been falling off of these bar stools two rounds in. And she was far beyond her second round.

Finally, the man stepped up, hands against the edge of the inner bar top. Jenna wasn’t sure whether it was his sigh that irritated her or his proximity. His question about whether she wanted a sandwich made her come up short. What? It was followed by voiced concern for a liver. She simply met his gaze for a long moment, wondering what bartending school he had failed. Was he not supposed to make sure he sold alcohol rather than turn people off it?

And yet, all of it appeared so inconsequential. Jenna had no idea how to respond to the man given she did not even know what she was now. It certainly looked like her liver was probably the healthiest organ in her body now. She imagined how it laughed in the face of the drinks she was pouring into herself, calling it ‘kid’s play’. And yet, of course body organs could not speak, had no mind of their own. So the drinking was doing something to her – even though it might be no more than driving her batshit insane.

Jenna huffed out a breath and watched how her shot glass was topped up again.

“I don’t sound or look very drunk, do I?” she answered his question with a question of her own. Jenna was surprised at how levelled her own tone was. Normally, she would have had several retorts ready to be fired at the man. Cynical comments, to her, were a part of the job as a detective with the NYPD.

Jenna could not help feeling like she had been removed from that life by aeons.
Her mind once more conjured up the image of her flinging a grown man across the white cell she had been kept in. Benji Richards had weighed practically nothing to her. And that had been only the beginning.

She tipped back the contents of the glass, put it back down on the bar top and looked at the bar tender.
“Keep them coming …”

Jenna found his somewhat ‘rugged around the edges’ look interesting. It somewhat matched the location perfectly, somehow did not mix with it at all. As if this man was half in, half out. In a strange way it made him more sympathetic to her – because that was exactly how Jenna felt.

“You should possibly be more worried about them”, she continued, motioning for the three goons sitting on the other side of the bar. Their noise levels were not going down so even Jenna had noticed them by now. Snot-nosed kids, she likened them to in her mind. Oddly enough, they reminded her of herself. The times when she had just joined the military. Big mouth, no brains … no idea what it looked like to have the man walking on your right gunned down and grey matter wetting the condensed dirt that made so many of the roads in Afghanistan.

She ran the pad of her index finger across the shot glasses rim. Slow circles as her eyes remained on the sight of the trio acting as if they owned the place. She considered leaving but realised she had no idea where to go. So instead, she raised both eyebrows as she turned back to look at the bar tender again. “Bad for business”, she suggested as she tipped her finger against the glass to remind the good man that she was waiting for that refill.
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02-20-2019
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02-20-2019, 04:09 PM
[In-Character] [Post #5]
Deflective right off the bat.

Venom shifted just beneath the surface, curiosity piqued by the mouth that offered such a retort, even as his desire to lope back towards the ridiculous trio wavered about between their thoughts. If he could detach himself and survive, the symbiote would have been on the other side of the room.

He watched her lift the shot glass and knock back the contents as if she had something to prove. He wasn’t there to be judgmental, his point was other. She was a beautiful young woman alone at a bar seemingly intent on getting shitfaced. He had never seen her before so it was possible that she didn’t live nearby. That meant she would walk out of the pub and potentially take herself home at whatever time she decided to vacate the premises, or he kicked everyone out. Girl alone at night in New York. Not exactly the most comforting or promising of thoughts. If she remained somewhat sober, she could rationalize better.

Still, he would agree with her roundabout deduction in that she did not appear drunk. Yet. That meant little.

When she referenced the three boys down the bar, he obliged her with a glance down towards them, felt his skin ripple beneath the long-sleeved shirt.

“Just a few kids.” He reasoned. One apparently about to get married. The twenty-somethings partied differently than the thirty-somethings when it came to bachelor parties. Considering their apparent ages, he was surprised that there were only three of them, if he were being honest. He wouldn’t be surprised if their number swelled, or if they met up with more of their ilk later into the night or morning. So far, they seemed human and relatively harmless, just loud. “Business has seen worse.”

He pursed his lips slightly as he lifted the tequila bottle, glanced at her glass, and refilled per her request. Sandwich later, maybe.

And chocolate. Another voice purred.

Glass shattered and he sighed.

“Back off, man.” A voice growled and he turned enough to note one of the kids pushing away Brenda’s husband Eric’s hand from his shoulder.

“I was trying to make sure you didn’t step in it, you half-wit.” Then the older man turned his focus. “Eddie.” It was not necessarily a request.

Once the little glass was topped off, he moved back down the bar. “Boys, if you can’t behave, you’re going to be out.” He pointed towards the barstools that neither of the three were sitting in and they grudgingly followed the unspoken instruction to sit. He retrieved another glass and filled it with their choice draught to replace the broken mug, setting it down. Then he stepped back and reached for the push broom before rounding the end of the bar.

He refilled another Washington apple on the way and then immediately set to work cleaning up the shattered glass. Everyone seemed to be wearing decent enough shoes that no one was likely to pick up any stray shards. He could see practically every one of them and any he seemed to gloss over, the other eyes picked up on with ease.

He was aware of one of the trio rising and sliding down the bar towards the girl and he narrowed his eyes even as he swept the glass pieces into the handheld dustpan. The blonde opened his mouth one of those ridiculous angel pick up lines poured out of his mouth. He looked to the girl for a moment before he made his way back behind the bar and deposited the glass in an appropriate receptacle.
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02-20-2019
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[In-Character] [Post #6]
One thing Jenna had noticed in the past days, or weeks, or whatever much time had passed. Her perception had improved. Even now, when she should be inebriated given the fact that she was usually a light-weight, it felt like she had run her vision through a sharpening filter. She watched the bartender as he went about his thing.

His voice was a no-nonsense kind of deep rumble. Interesting, she had decided. And still, there was something about the man that struck her as strange. Nothing she had visual evidence for. It was, like so often lately, once more a feeling stemming from her gut region. That sixth sense of hers had gone through the roof since … since.

Tequila!, she thought, knocking the shot back.
Then she turned to watch what was happening at the other side of the bar. Apparently, the merry band of ‘Hey, if we add our age up, we’re definitely over 21’ was crossing that line between being a nuisance and requiring a time out. Jenna watched with mild interest. It was always the same. Over and over. The same kind of kids, the same age, the same altercations. Coming of age rituals in a world that no longer valued traditions. Who could shout the loudest, stomach the most, had the longest.

The older man almost landing himself in the middle of the boys’ playpen called a name. Jenna’s eyes followed his line of sight. The bartender. Eddie.

Eddie was already on his way. Jenna appreciated that he had left her another tequila. She saw no reason to let it sit there in that glass and possibly collect dust, or vapourize. She downed it, growling at herself when the familiar buzz still would not come. What did this mean? Did that mean drinking herself into a stupor was a thing of the past now? Well, if for nothing else, Steven Lang deserved a serious kick in the balls for that.

Jenna watched Eddie going about his job. To all of this, there was a shred of normalcy and right now she appreciated that. Just a guy in a bar - even if she still thought there was something odd about the way he moved at times - doing his job. Possibly looking out for the girl who was trying to get shit faced a little too far from home.

Cute, she thought. Wondering whether he would do the same for a war veteran mutant affairs detective with an x-gene and some poison pumped into her veins that had a number of extremely freakish side effects she still had not managed to catalogue. The only thing familiar in all of this was her gut feeling.

Just that her gut feeling was now coming through huge speakers, with a subwoofer.

So she did not miss one of the boys coming her way. Jenna wondered what kind of name they gave his generation these days. There was surely some snazzy way of labeling them. Generation xXx? Though he looked more like an unlucky mixture of Justin Bieber before he had started letting the scalpels chip away his age and a rottweiler.

“Dit it hurt?”
Like a motherfucker, she almost would have said but stopped herself. “What?” she threw back instead.
“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”
“Does that line ever work?” she asked.
“You must be an angel! So it would have hurt when you fell from heaven.” The fellow was young enough to still be in college, she mused. And he was about as dumb.
“Let it be, sweetheart. I’m out of your league.” she said, and somehow knowing she was right did not help in this moment.

“Sittn’alone in a dump like’is …”, he ground out, his gaze instantly darkening.
Whoops, had she stepped on his ego?
“Suuure,you’routa m’league.” He stepped up, pushing into her personal space and Jenna just reacted. Shifting on her stool, twisting enough to direct her upper body further towards the fellow, she eyed him finding it a fifty-fifty chance that he would either throw a punch or fall on his face. “Bitch… think y’rebetta than me?!”

Jenna wondered whether she was lately just a trouble magnet. Had to be. Why could a girl not get shitfaced without some guy thinking he could take advantage … or call her names if she wasn’t up for it.

“Your momma never tell you that that’s not the way to speak to a woman?”
Boy would not have it. His face screwed into a mask of anger and then his right shoulder telegraphed from miles away that he would be trying to throw a punch. Jenna caught his fist, and simply pushed him back. Apparently with more strength than required. The fact that boy ended up all the way across the bar was a bit of an indicator. Eddie would have a few more glasses to mop up with that push broom.

Jenna silently cursed. So superhuman strength was definitely a thing here. Just that she had no idea to what extent. Just great, she growled to herself.

“BITCH!” boy screamed.
Jenna just let her eyes wander, towards Eddie. On her face was an expression that was half apologetic, half amused. She pulled her shoulders up in a shrug. “Sorry?” she offered him, knowing that boy would not stay down.
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02-22-2019, 12:34 AM
[In-Character] [Post #7]
“My friend,” one of the pair lingering where he had left them, “is getting’ married tom’row.” He declared.

Eddie sighed as he set the broom and pan aside, turning his attention back to the younger set. Hopefully one would drink himself silly, pass out, and they could all be rid of the pleasure of their company. He had gathered what they were out for such an evening, but he was struggling to grasp at the fact that anyone was willing to pick up and marry either of the three present. He liked to think that people were different when they drank, that maybe they were simpler sort when they were sober, but really, alcohol tended to give a better picture of what someone was really like.

“Fantastic.” He said as he set his hands back down on the bar.

Each discussion about him was almost too easy to discern. Brenda thought they should switch cable providers. The couple from Jersey thought they should take positions closer to home rather than venturing perpetually into New York. Amanda was on the phone with her mother about her student loans. And then-

He shifted his focus back to the girl when she shifted on her stool and turned more directly to the boy pushing into her space. The moment his tone changed, Eddie felt his features darken. Perhaps she had had a point in mentioning the younger three being back for business. He had simply been trying to give them the benefit of the doubt.

When the boy drew his arm back, Eddie lifted himself over the bar. Missing by two steps when the punch was thrown forward. To his shock and amusement, the fist connected with the girl’s palm, and she didn’t even flinch. And then with little effort, the boy was across the room, smashed into a cabinet that held some of the bar’s older glassware. He sighed at that, realizing the further clean up, and the unfortunate nature of the now rather non-existent glassware. Fantastic.

The girl offered a shrug and a half apology, but she no longer governed his focus. When the boy rose back to his feet and marched forward, Eddie set his hand against the slightly taller man’s chest. The boy reached for his wrist and Eddie easily turned him about, shoving him right up against the old jukebox that barely worked on a decent night. When the other pair rose, seemingly to their friend’s assistance, Eddie turned just enough to lock gazes with them. “I think you boys are done for the night.” He spoke, his tone calm and centered.

“You think that-” The boy in his grip opened his mouth and Eddie tightened his hold on the fabric of the shirt at his chest. When he snapped back to him, he let his eyes shift just enough to silence any further rebuttal.

He drew his phone form his back pocket and sent a request for an uber. “You can wait on the curb outside.” He pulled the boy closer to him for a moment, then turned him towards the girl. “After you apologize.” He forced the boy onto his knees. “Unless she would like more than just your words.” The bell door jingled and he barely turned towards his shoulder to take note of four of the other patrons slipping out.
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02-22-2019
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[In-Character] [Post #8]
Jenna remained where she was, pulling her hand back and into her lap. She cupped it with the palm of the other one. It bothered her that she had no idea just exactly where her power level was. Often she wondered whether she would have found out precisely had his brother’s girlfriend not broken them out of the hands of the Services. And yet, she was more than grateful to never have ended up at a black site where probably no one would have found any of them.

Still, how did one go about figuring out powers they never had had before? Because powers was definitely something she now had. She had overheard lab techs speaking about superhuman levels of strength. Increased endurance. Resistance to kinetic impact. They had said more but Benji had landed a punch and her lights had gone dim then.

Just naming the aspects of the things she was now capable of, however, did little in the way of helping her understand the extent of them. This moment right here was a prime example for it. She had given boy a small shove. By the impact of it, she ought to have double-spin-kicked him. Not that she knew how to do one of those. So she felt a little embarrassed, wringing her hands in her lap, and briefly wondered whether all supers or mutants felt this exposed when using their abilities.

With some fascinated detachment she watched the bartender – Eddie, she reminded herself – stopping her new friend from getting closer again. Part of her was grateful. Jenna certainly did not want a dead body on her rep sheet.

What Eddie did looked … easy. Natural. Like he was in charge of what he was doing and the extent to which he did it. Jenna envied him when struck down with a world of new things she could do and no idea how to begin to understand it.

Then Eddie turned back towards her, his hold on boy still fast. Like he was holding an icecream cone. Easy. Nothing special to see here. Jenna straightened her shoulders a little. Her eyes shifting to the trouble maker in Eddie’s hold. She shook her head, a bit started when he brought boy down to his knees. “No, I’m good.” She said, not giving into the strange urge to do damage. While not knowing how to measure her strength, it certainly came with a strange inclination to use it. She wondered briefly how often she would have to drive her fist into that face before the bone beneath the skin gave in.

The idea startled her and she forced herself to snap out of it. “I’d rather just go back to Tequila”, she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

She noted from the corner of her eyes that other patrons left, shrinking the group of people present. Jenna was suddenly becoming acutely aware of the attention she was garnering with this little scene. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she looked at the carnage she had caused. “Ummm”, she tried. “Maybe I ought to help you clean this up, and then be on my way instead.”

Picking up her backpack from the floor, she lifted it onto her lap and turned back towards the bar. She dug through the things inside to find her wallet. Jenna had counted a good seven rounds she had done. Would her cash even suffice for it? Maybe next time when she tried to drink herself into a stupor she ought to just pick something up in a paper bag and find herself a dark corner somewhere. Or possibly a room.

She counted the bills. There were only about thirty dollars left. Even if that was enough, she was fresh out of funds to pay for a room. Maybe her plan had not been thought through till the end. Certainly not that she had not asked Lukas Frye for more money. Right now, using her credit cards was just not a good idea. At least not without an elaborate scheme to use the card and be sure to be on the other side of town once she had done so.

“Shit”, she murmured. Not her day, she wanted to think. Not her month, a little voice from the back of her mind protested.
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02-23-2019, 06:32 PM
[In-Character] [Post #9]
There was not even an ounce of argument or fight left in the kid in his grip, he moved accordingly and sunk down to his knees when forced to. He offered out a quiet apology, but when the girl decided she wanted little else, he released the shirt and the kid scrambled towards the door, his friends in tow.

The girl mentioned helping him clean up and he dismissed the idea with a simple wave and turned back to circled around the end of the bar to retrieve the broom once more. Brenda was already up and picking up the larger pieces of glass when he made his way to the cabinet. Each piece condense int her hands to tiny smooth cubes, making disposal on her part easy. He didn’t need to take stock of the customers that remained. He had counted four and each was different in some manner.

“Why don’t you just turn it all to sand?” He perked up when he looked at the older woman. “Would make clean up a lot faster.” He offered her a cheeky smile.

“Oh, Eddie,” Brenda sighed, “it would get everywhere and you’d be finding sand for days.”

“Well just,” he waved at all the shards and splinters, “turn it all into more of that.” He shrugged as he gestured to the pieces in her hands. “I’ll even conveniently lose your tab for the night.”

“Done.” The woman decided and snapped her fingers. Half the glass condensed into similar looking objects to the smooth cubes, and when she snapped her fingers again, the rest followed suit.

“Man that’s cool.” He assessed. It was always cool. That was a convenient mutation. Flying was low rated on his lists of what was useful, but being able to clean up a mess in a few minutes’ time was phenomenal. He gladly went about sweeping up what amounted to a smattering of loose pebbles, making three trips with full dustpans to the trash before he put the broom away.

“Refill, Eddie.” Brenda called and he was eager enough to follow her request.

He reached for the bottle of sour apple pucker and pushed the girl’s money back at her. “On the house.” He told her as he set to mixing the Washington Apple. “You live around here?” He asked as he made his way the short distance to the booth, and then back to the bar to clean the shakers. “Or you just visiting? Pretty sure I would have notice ‘girl with super strength’ if you were local.” He set a towel on the bartop. “Unless it’s a new development?”
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02-25-2019
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[In-Character] [Post #10]
Jenna just watched as the group of three was removed from the bar. The situation appeared so strange, especially in light of her usually being the one kicking out trouble makers. As a cop, that was her job after all. And yet, here she sat suddenly all too aware of the attention she had drawn to herself. The questions whether the Services were near came inadvertently. The memory of her captivity was still fresh. She did not want to go back, could not go back. For the first time she understood how some mutants would consider snitching on just about anyone to avoid falling back into the hands of SentS. She understood the panicked eyes and terror-stricken facial features when the NYPD would hand over certain detainees to the likes of Steven Lang.

She pressed her lips into a thin line and forced herself to push away the images. There was no point dwelling on these things. They had happened, and she could not change them now. The issue at hand was figuring out who she was now, what she could do - and what that meant in the long run. Or so she believed.

Nursing her lager, she watched as Eddie and the other woman going about cleaning the mess she had made. Jenna was not happy about this situation at all. She had created the mess. Why were others cleaning it up now? However, her irritation faded and gave place to curiosity when she watched the woman and what she could do. A mutant? Jenna’s eyes flitted up to the woman’s face. No, she had never seen that face. And yet, there was an ability. Change glass? Even into sand? That would involve altering the substance at a molecular level.

Jenna was intrigued, watched the easy interaction between the woman and the bartender. There was a pang of envy. She missed just being Jenna. Having a big mouth, and an even bigger attitude. Why did that no longer come that easily?

Then, missing the beat so she could not retort in a smart way, Jenna found her money being pushed back at her. But why? she wanted to blurt out, managing to stop herself in the last moment. She swallowed, nodded. “Thanks”, she said, her tone sincere.

Eddie went back to bartending business and Jenna’s eyes just followed what his hands did. It was almost therapeutic to just watch, not think, and see as he swiftly created drinks out of other drinks. She had never tasted a Washington Apple, Jenna thought. ”You live around here?” It took her a moment to realise that Eddie had spoken to her. He delivered the latest drink and then returned, cleaning yet something else. Or was she just visiting, he amended.

Though it were the words that followed then that almost gave Jenna a jaw-drop moment.

“New”, she just said. “Involuntary, too”, she added, still not having decided whether now having these new abilities was really the worst thing to happen to her or not. “Jenna”, she offered. “My name is Jenna, and I’m not exactly from around here.”

She put her bottle to her lips, drew a mouthful and then set it back down, staring at the half empty bottle of beer for a moment. “Super strength, huh?” She shrugged, casting a glance back to the woman who had handled the glass earlier. Then Jenna looked back at Eddie. “Not even sure what half the things I can do now are referred to …”
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bury my heart next to yours


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