milliways_bar | (no subject)

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victor creed

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Creed stomps in from the back door, shoving snow off his shoulder. He makes a beeline for the bar and orders a beer. A really big one. Afterward, he randomly picks a chair and sits down in a huff.

Someone's having a bad day.

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"Somehow I doubt that," Yamato says flatly. "But even if I didn't, you're not stupid, you know exactly why they should've been worried."

"I went off the rails once. I was punished for it." Seems fair to him. "Special ops gave me rules I could live with."

"And what rules were those?"

Because Yamato's imagining they were fairly lax.

"It was my job to intimidate and kill when ordered."

Again, he was a good soldier.

"Wow. Tough rules. They were really keeping you in check there, huh," Yamato says, tone going markedly dry again.

"I followed my orders."

Mostly.

"They don't sound like difficult orders to follow."

"Following any kind of rule is an issue for me."

But the consequences were enough that he did.

"What'd they hold over your head if you stepped out of line, grounded with no murder for a week?"

"Treatment I was s'posed to get."

Not that he ended up with it regardless.

"You're sick?"

Yamato supposes that's possible, even with a healing factor.

He chuckles.

"No. Was gonna make me invincible."

Yamato snorts.

"Invincibility is the perfect way to make every fight boring."

"I already know I'm gonna win," he replies easily. "Only one person gives me a challenge. ...maybe two."

"That's a dull way to live," Yamato says. "At least so long as it isn't all ego."

He unsheathes his claws enough to be noticed.

"Healthy dose of ego by now."

Yamato's eyes flick over to the claws, before he gives a chuckle, shrugging a shoulder.

"It's a neat trick. I've seen better, though."

"Flashy ain't my style."

Never has been, never will be.

"Don't seem your style either."

"I have my moments," Yamato says mildly. "When it's useful. Sometimes a flashy show of force is the best way to force a retreat and minimise casualties."

Which he knows isn't exactly a concern of Creed's.

"Yeah."

No, not something he'd really know about.

"Who you fighting?"

"Right now? Some shapeshifting guy who's brought back puppet-y-zombie-y versions of all our old enemies. Before that, it was a self-cloning army of insects that wanted revenge, and before that it was a despot who wanted to rule the world, and then the self-cloning army of insects again before him, and before them, the forces of a kind of collective of dead people."

He shrugs again.

"There's always a new enemy somewhere down the line."

His eyebrows rise.

"Or you could go somewhere the hell else. Who wants to deal with all that shit?"

"Someone has to deal with it. Otherwise people get hurt or killed," Yamato says. "Just going somewhere else isn't much of an option if you have the ability to help."

"Having the option doesn't mean you're obliged."

This is the type of shit the X-Men say.

"You got no reason to take care of all that."

"Sure it does. If I can help people and I don't, then it's as much my fault as anyone else's if they're hurt."

This seems pretty reasonable to Yamato.

"And besides, there's destiny and prophecy shit involved. I was chosen for this."