milliways_bar | (no subject)

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X slips into the main bar from her room in the Staff hallway.

The silence -- and lack of cats -- was worth not having to go back to Paris just yet.

Soon. When she is better.

In the meantime, she makes her way to a corner table, stopping briefly at Bar to order something for dinner.

Spaghetti is an old comfort food, and when combined with a root beer float it is one of the best.

Go figure.

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Nearby there is a loud thump of something heavy and metal hitting the wooden floor. There's also a groan and a towering woman who says, "Aw jeez. Sorry."

Bending over to a chair, Ben suddenly doesn't feel so good as evidenced by her clutching her torso.

X stiffens for a moment, poised to unleash her claws.

But then she gets hold of herself, turning to look at the woman who dropped --

Whatever it was.

"You are okay?"

Stomach-clutching is rarely an indicator of anything positive.

"Yeah," the woman says, straightening. "Must a been somethin' I ate." Weird thing, though, is that it felt more a muscular cramp than an intestinal. No bother though.

"Hey, X," Ben says and looks down at the big dent her chain mace has left in the floor. "I hope that ain't gonna be too 'xspensive ta fix."

"Bar will run a tab."

She pauses for a moment, studying the other woman.

"Ben. And there are magic-users. Here. And the Loompas."

Edited 2013-06-07 03:30 (UTC)

"Got it in one," Ben says with a smile. "Yer X right? Not someone else doin' Cubefall?"

Edited 2013-06-07 03:51 (UTC)

"No," X says, shaking her head once.

"I am me."

And she is already different. Changes don't have to come from a computer screen, after all.

Ben studies X and wonders. He doesn't really know her and on any given day she's a hard read but something is still nagging at him. Too many year playing poker with Logan or something.

"Everythin' ok?"

"No one is dead," X says, matter-of-factly.

This is true.

The fact that it is also one of her habitual answers to this question is not a coincidence.

"And I am not working."

"That's usually a good start wit' your clan," Ben replies carefully, meaning Logan's family. "Not workin' here or back home?"

X's shrug is one-shouldered and quick.

"Here."

Then she pauses, head tilting as she studies Ben.

"I do not have a clan."

Do Mike, his brothers, and Splinter count?

"I thought you's was related to Logan? Or do you have sense an' not want ta claim any tie ta Canada?" Ben offers a little laugh in case she's as touchy as Logan in that regard.

"I was made in Canada," is X's response. "Logan is my brother."

Beat.

"It is not the same as a clan."

"Ok, yer family then," Ben replies with a slight roll of her eyes which turns a wince as a slight twinge hits her lower torso again. It passes quickly though. "So yer just kickin' back? And not killin' people?"

X's nostrils flare. Some biochemical markers are unmistakable.

But she says nothing.

"I am eating. It is necessary."

And in response to Ben's last question --

"I do not kill. In Milliways.

Ben rolls his eyes again, having forgotten how literal she is. Something is still telling him something is up though.

"That's good. You ever enjoy eating?" If not, Ben feels it is imperative she does what she can to change this. Food is nearly a religion for her.

X is literal the way some people are sarcastic.

Some of the time, anyway.

"There are things I like."

See: what she is eating now!

"There are things you do not like? To eat. Or to see other people eating."

"Truth be told, I'll eat near anythin' once. As ta watchin' well I'd avoid Kree ceviche or anythin' the Brood or Skrulls find tasty."

Ben decides to let it whatever is tickling her instincts go and let X steer the conversation. Unless something changes.

X frowns, just a little.

"Skrull do not eat like us?"

Beat.

"When they are not pretending to be human. Or mutant."

She does not spend much time studying them when they look like Skrull, to be honest. Or she has not, historically.

(Of course, since the Invasion, she has not seen many.)

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