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Late evening at the ol' Madrox place. Jamie is actually being domestic, even if he's there all by his lonesome. Well, not really all by his lonesome. There are exactly three of him about. One in the kitchen cooking three very large steaks, mashed potatoes, and steamed carrots; one in the bathroom cleaning (that one pulled the short straw), and another in the living room ironing pants. Why three steaks? Because then Jamie will feel three time as satisfied by it, of course! The television is on, but none of the Madri are paying any attention to it. Something about monsters invading on the news. Clearly nothing important.
*
The noise outside his door is loud, strugging, troubled. Hightened breathing, stress, and then a heavy 'thunk-thunk-thunk' against his door. The knock comes from low, as if kicked against the door by the toe of a boot. Then it comes again, 'thunk-thunk-thunk'. But this time, at least it comes with a voice. "Jamie! Open d-de door. M'arm's full, chere." Lynette calls out, her voice muffling against the barrier.
*
"C'mon pretty boy, we need a hand out here…or two." Victor's voice follows. Well, at least he knew Lynette wasn't alone. Sniffing lightly, Victor frowns as he's effectively balanced and held-up by the woman beside him, supported on what appears to be stumps after a recent removal of several limbs. Creepy enough, but creepier still was the small 'growth' of what appeared to be a replacement, almost comicly small hands visibly in the process of regeneration back to full size, but a good hour or so away from it
*
With a bit of a 'huff' of air rushing to vacate the space it previously occupied, another Madrox appears, and that's the one that opens the door. "No need to yell, darlin'," he calls before sliding the chain off the door and turning the knob to open it. He's assuming that she's carrying groceries, or something. He's also assuming that she's alone, at least until Victor makes his presence known. When he opens the door, he's visibly surprised, both at Victor's state and the fact that Lynette is helping to carry him along; it's a bit of a conundrum, since he's so big and she's so tiny. "Uh." Say something, James. Any words will do. "Come in?" He steps out of the way, and motions for the pair to do just that. "What the hell happened?" Don't ask about the tiny hands, don't ask about the tiny hands.
*
Lynette looks up to the new Madrox, her eyes that of a snake's as something besides just her physical strength holds up the massive, beastial figure that is Creed. "T'anks." She sighs breathlessly before carrying/hovering Victor into the home. Both are painted with blood, but Victor more so than Lynette. Where she has some staining her boots, hands, and the bottoms of her pants, Creed is caked with the substance, from his mouth downward. "One of y'get de man s'm bathwater, non?" Once reaching the sofa, she rests Creed down and slumps on the floor, resting on her back and covering her eyes as she pants.
*
"I had an arguement with some people about the finer points of manners," Victor grunts as he stumbles into the sofa, likely staining it given all the blood on his mangled form. "Made some convincing points." Grinning, even his teeth remain stained with the blood from the fight. Blood that wasn't his too, making the scraffy man look like some horror movie slasher. One can't be sure he wasn't really. Considerably shorter for the moment given that his lower leg had been sliced similarly, Victor just grunts again. "When the hands grow back, I'm gonna need a drink."
*
The sound of water running in the tub can be heard a moment later, and the Madrox that had been in there cleaning comes out shortly, a very disapproving look on his face. All that wasted effort. Why bother even cleaning the damn thing if someone's going to show up all bloody and dismembered at all hours? He walks calmly into the kitchen, and is absorbed. The Jamie that had opened the door, of course, tries to help as best he can, getting Victor to the couch, and the one that was ironing moves quickly to help Lynette, with towels. A moment later, the Jamie in the kitchen arrives, wiping his hands on a towel. The food's ready, at least. "I'm sure you did, big guy," the Jamie helping Victor says. Don't piss off the prehistoric mountain lion. The Madrox from the kitchen moves to help Victor along with the other one, to get up and toward the bathroom, or at least that's the intention. The one beside the girl sets about trying to pat some of the more heinous blood splotches. "You were in the splash zone, huh?" He smirks, unable to resist a joke even under these circumstances. "This.. gonna be a regular thing with him, you think?" He's not speaking loudly, perhaps hoping to not draw attention from Victor, and obviously not realizing that the man can probably hear a pin drop at a hundred yards. Meanwhile the smell of steaks and fixin's wafts through the air. So much for a quiet meal with Jamie and the Clones.
*
"Nah. M'fine. Jus' did a lil stabbin' int' a guy's foot. De rest? I went crawlin' closa t'Vic." Blinking up, still with slitted pupils, she eyes after the Madri and Creed as he's taken to the bathroom to clean up and continue 'growing' what was taken away. "Y't'ink y'know de world, den y'run int' racist mut'nts." Sitting up, she shakes he head and crawls toward the sofa after peeling away her now bloody jacket, and scarf. Boots next, and even pants, as she curls up on the clean cushions and sighs. "C'n I get a drink? N's'mt'ing f'm'head? S'killin' me." Then, the question has her rolling over and glancing back toward the bathroom. "Dunno. Know one t'ing. Neva wanna be on dat one's badside."
*
"This might take a bit," but eventually Victor will shoo the clones out of the room and there's the sound of something hitting the water. All the blood is probably going to make a mess of the tub and his own jacket was outright drenched in it while now sitting on the floor, but he doesn't really care in the slightest. This was the first time in a long time he had to regenerate a limb and now he had to regenerate all four. If he hadn't reduced the offending mutant that had attacked them to sauce, he'd probably kill him all over again. Sinking down into the water, there's no way of knowing if he was listening in or not…
*
The Madri attending Victor don't take much convincing to leave him be. Even limbless, they get the distinct impression he can look after himself, so they depart and one absorbs the other, walking toward Lynette. "Sounds like an eventful evening, darlin'," he says, and touches the one remaining duplicate on the shoulder to absorb him. There, all nice and quiet now. No extra bodies running around. "Just made some food, if you're hungry. Can save one for the big man in there, too, when he's done.." The mention of racist mutants causes him to grimace a bit. "We're not all as enlightened as we probably should be. Some mutants don't realize that we're all on the same side here, and it doesn't so much matter what colour our skin is; the differences that really separate us go much deeper than that, right?" He takes a glance back to the couch, and then to blood that has been smeared all around. He just washed those floors, too. And the sofa.. well, he was thinking about procuring a new one anyway. "Hangin' around that guy a lot, darlin'. Either you're makin' friends, or you've got a stalker," he says, half a smirk for half a joke.
*
Lynette levels her gaze on Jamie, just watching him as he moves about, but at least dinner gets a smile from her. "I jus' take s'm spuds. Give m'meat t'Vic. He need it." Rolling off the sofa, she pads toward the kitchen and claims a drink for herself, along with some type of headache medication. Popping powder down and washing it with aqua, she gives a shudder as that bitter, grainy taste lingers in the back of her throat. "Gaaahh…hate dat stuff." She mutters before dishing herself some of the mash. "Ah, we friends, honey." A pause, she glances his way onc emore. "Dat ok wit y'?"
*
Jamie gets up when she does, and follows to the kitchen. He makes sure not to get in her way, despite the fact that it's not a very large kitchen; in fact it's not a very large apartment, but the lack of furnishings makes it seem a little bit bigger than it otherwise would feel. When she's clear of the stove, he sets about dishing up plates. Meat for Victor, and a normally proportioned serving of everything for himself, and Lynette's already dished herself up. It's almost like it was planned this way, with the three meals being already made.. "'course it is," Jamie replies easily. "Everyone should have friends.. just, think you oughta be careful with this one."
*
Lynette leans against the kitchen counter, spoon in her puds and leading them up to her mouth. Cheeks full, she stuffs as much as she can in, chewing it away and swallowing, hard. Water next, she chugs and sighs outward, her eyes finally shifting back to their normal form. "I c'n run pretty fast." She promises Jamie, glancing to the shut door of the bathroom and back again. "I don' t'ink he'd hurt me, dough. Not on p'rpose. S'bit wild. Gets lost in de fight I t'ink. Talked'm down earlier, but…I b'careful." She promises before moving to set out the plates onto the small table. "I help y'clean up de mess, too, afta dinna."
*
Jamie gives a silent nod, watching her eat for a moment. "Okay. Just, seen it before. Killin's easy for a man like that. Don't get me wrong, in a fight I'm happy to have him on our side. Helped a ton against that mob.. hell, might not have made it out if weren't for him. Why I don't mind you bringing him here; he's one of our own, I'll do what I can for him." Jamie moves along with Lynette, relocating to the table as she does. "Just don't want you to get hurt, darlin'. Like having you around. You've got good instincts, just.. be careful, is all," Jamie says, offering a warm smile.