milliways_bar | (no subject)

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This time, Raven marches into the Bar, sans her brother.

A napkin appears to greet her moments later.

"Really?" Beat. "Sure I will."

Specials
Mai Tai
Manhattan
Margarita

(And then a little further down - )

Blue Colada

It is her favorite color, after all.

[ tiny tags: charles xavier, raven darkholme ]

[ ooc: Tag in, tag each other! ST/LT welcome and appreciated. ~~Open for tags until this reads otherwise.~~ Closed to new tags. ]

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"You are?"

It's more encouraging than not - and given that she and Charles have met more mutants here than they've ever encountered back home, it leaves her wondering about what the future holds. And yet she doesn't shift here. She knows about X, but she doesn't know about the other people in this bar. Doesn't know how they'll react, how they'll look at her.

"I can become anyone else, if I want to. Right down to the sound of their voice."

She blinks, and her eyes are yellow in that moment between before they go back to their former (normal) brown.

"I am," X confirms, nodding once.

"My brother is, too. And my nephew."

She does not appear taken aback by the suddenly-yellow eyes. Largely because her teammates and close friends range from a girl with purple skin and pixie wings, to a girl made of mercury, to a lizard-man, to a giant hunk of rock. And the giant hunk of rock is not even very nice to her all the time.

"Shapeshifting is useful. And -- you like it? As a power."

"They are?"

She calls Charles her brother, but it's only because he's the only real family she's ever known; the two who raised her turned her out as soon as her abilities manifested, labeling her a devil child before she even had an explanation for what she could do.

"I - it helped, before. When I didn't want to draw attention to myself. When I just wanted to be normal."

She's never heard anyone call it useful before. That flutter in her gut eases into a warmth.

"Yes," X says. "My brother comes here. Sometimes. Logan."

Beat.

"He is cranky."

This pause is a little bit longer, as X looks for the right words for what she wants to say. It is not her best skill.

"Being like other people is okay, if it is what you want. Or if it is useful."

She offers a shrug, one-shouldered and quick.

"But being a mutant is normal, too. For me. And you. People here do not mind."

X knows this for fact, because --

"They are not afraid of me." (Except for Haymitch.)

Edited 2012-04-09 15:50 (UTC)

"Maybe here," she replies, looking down at her hands. She always has to hold a modicum of control over her abilities, always has to ensure she isn't going to slip and show them her true face.

"People don't understand out there."

It's easier to hide. It always has been.

This is what she knows how to do. This is what her ability lets her do.

"No," X says. Carefully.

"Some of them do not."

Some of them want to kill mutants, or take away their powers, or --

Some people are very afraid.

"But some of them do. My landlord. And my neighbors. In San Francisco"

Beat.

"We live there. My team. And me. We do not have to hide. Not even Santo."

"Must be nice," Raven says, not even attempting to hide her envy.

Maybe there'll be a day where she doesn't feel as though she has to hide.

Right now, that day isn't going to be today.

"Who's Santo?"

"People still want to kill us."

That is the way of the Marvelverse.

"But I like having a home."

Beat.

"Santo is my former teammate. He is made of rock. And he makes stupid jokes."

He was also largely responsible for the Avengers Assemble! post-it note on X's fish tank. (Her fish are named Logan, Widow, Cap, Tony, and Carol for a reason.)

"Some things never do change," she says, with a tiny sigh.

She's torn between a smile and something of an incredulous look at the mention, though.

"Are those two things related at all?"

X considers that question.

A dubious expression settles in on her face.

"I think his jokes would still be stupid even if his power was different."

Unfortunately.

She has a really good pun lined up, and she's tempted to use it, but she curbs the urge.

"Yeah, that usually doesn't make much of a difference."

X looks cautiously intrigued. (Or: curious.)

"You know people like that, too?"

Whether she means the kind with dumb jokes or the kind make of rock is anybody's guess.

"Well, a sense of humor can't usually be helped."

Charles, for example, thinks he's clever - and he is, in the traditional sense.

His jokes, on the other hand, usually leave her groaning more than laughing.

"I think it is good to have one," X says.

She used to be without, but time and exposure (thanks, Duo) have given her one.

It may not be as terrible as Santo's, but it's pretty close.

"Even if it is stupid."

"You definitely can't take it for granite."

Okay, so maybe she can't resist after all.

Silence falls.

X's eyes get a little bit wider as the pun hits home.

Then --

"Your sense of humor is terrible, too?"

Oh, the mutant-ity.

"Only sometimes."

That's what she likes to think, at least.

X may have a different opinion, but she's entitled to that, of course.

Raven hides a grin, looking down at the soupy remains of her ice cream.

"That is okay," X offers, leaning forward to take another sip of her root beer float.

"I do not mind."

If she is smiling, it is almost entirely hidden behind the glass and the accompanying straw.

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