milliways_bar | (no subject)

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A woman walks into the bar. Redhead, appears under the age of thirty, wearing a turquoise dress with black polka dots, a pair of stylish black heels. If one looks very close, those might be a pair of Death Stars hanging from her ears; in all other respects, though, the woman looks composed and collected. Maybe even a touch reserved.

Any resemblance to a certain redhead drunkenly singing Queen, and then various Soviet songs a few nights ago is clearly just a coincidence.

Clearly.

Nadine makes her way over to the Bar, and requests not food nor drink, but one Charles Xavier's thesis. The document appearing, she finds herself a table and starts to idly flick through. It's something to read while she decides what to eat.

(And she wants to get an idea of how the man thinks before she decides on how to handle a telepath.)

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She turns that over in her mind, and nods.

"I don't like being tripped up by things I've been forced to forget," is what she says. "But letting someone else in is a different matter."

There is a pause.

"Clint - uh, my...partner, he said he met a woman who had my married name. I don't remember this place at all. But I don't know if that means I've been made to forget, or if she is from another world."

"He helped my brother. Logan. With things he forgot," X offers.

In case it is relevant.

Then she hesitates, biting her lip.

"I met her, too. Here. And your scent is similar."

Beat.

"That is not always relevant. Here."

Then again, sometimes it is.

"Ah.

Damn."

Then,

"...Do you have any idea what happens when if someone accidentally runs into their younger or older self?"

"Sometimes one of them forgets. Or both. Or two separate timelines result. Or it has already happened and you remember afterward."

X pauses to consider this, then offers a one-shouldered shrug.

"I have crossed my own timeline. Before. And others, too. But I do not know if the effect changes in Milliways."

"Well.

At least the universe is already ending."

"It does that at home, too," X says, matter-of-factly.

"Usually someone stops it. Sometimes it is us. The X-men."

Sometimes it is the Avengers. Sometimes it is the Nova Corps. Sometimes it's someone else.

The woman also known as the Black Widow looks pained.

"I do not even want to contemplate how much paperwork that'd produce."

(She'll learn.)

"Finding another catastrophe is helpful."

Not that X knows this from experience.

"Somewhere else."

"I will keep that in mind," she promises.

"I can help," X offers.

In whatever world.

"You're a very useful person to know, X."

"Yes."

X does not smile, but she seems extremely pleased nonetheless.

"I try to be."

Sometimes her skillsets make it very easy.

That makes her smile, just a little.

"So, how have you been?"

X thinks about that for a second. Or maybe two.

"I have been better. Lately."

She'll take it.

It takes her a moment to try and parse X's meaning. 'Been better, been worse' is what she comes to.

"At least it's not worse."

"Yes."

X's expression goes blank.

"Before this it was worse."

Beat.

"I do not -- like. Not being in control. Of what I do."

Carefully,

"I can understand that."

She wishes she didn't. But she does.

X just looks at Nadine.

"I am sorry."

It is true.

X would prefer it if no one else understood. Ever.

"So am I. That you know, too.

I got out, though."

Did you?

"I did, too."

X's gaze drops for one second.

Two.

"But they could still control me."

It still bothers her. Except --

She looks up at last.

"They cannot do it anymore. My friends helped me to make sure."

Elle. Bruce. Amy.

Thor.

It is important.

"Good."

For all her voice is even, there is a vehemence there.

People like that should be stopped. And having back-up...

It helps. In more ways than one.

"Yes."

X reaches out, careful but not hesitant, to pat Nadine's shoulder.

Once.

If she is allowed.

X is allowed.

"I have back-up now, if...my old school rear their heads again."

Until then, she's staying away. Hopefully everyone involved is dead.

"It helps," X agrees.

"They can be very stubborn. Old -- schools."

She does not make a face.

"Usually it gets them dead. But they do not learn very quickly."

She snorts.

"They've had over seventy years now."

She is...dubious if anyone learnt anything, except more subtlety. Maybe.

(Making her think she was a ballerina, seriously.)