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Operations are in full swing; Madrox and his many millions were out hitting the streets, stamping out oppression where the need be rises or bringing back Intel where it deems necessary. Cain remains a willing Sentry, cleaning up and helping fix Mutant Town, while it would not be back to its former glory, the vision of Cain's mountainous self allows those denizens to come outside, even if it was just for a little while.
Raven kept up with the needs of the many and few, though none of the food nor supplies that were purchased burned a hole into her pocket with the funds that she illegally amassed. The safehouse bunker in a few states over outfitted with vehicles and weaponry, food brought into Mutant Town for those who refused to leave their homes, food brought to the Tenement here to feed those who need naps, a quick sit down, and shower before they leave.
Though all is quiet now. Raven settles down upon the couch, the large blade tucked within the hand of the blue woman as she uses the sharpest edge to idly scratch at the bottom of her lip as she stares forward in thought.
*
Victor hadn't been the most formal of sorts in his plans, but the bloody vegence he'd inflicted on the FoH that had attacked Mutant town wasn't exactly subtle. He'd been there that night and it seems he'd made his home there, an extra layer of very angry security not unlike Cain himself…but he had been MIA for nearly a week stalking some prey of great importance.
His arrival at the safehouse? It's probably not completely unexpected, but it certainly wasn't subtle as he merely steps in like he owns the place, the scruffy figure dropping his coat uncermoniously by the door and his eyes falling on the blue-skinned leader.
"You an' me need to talk Darlin'."
*
Victor has partially disconnected.
*
The footfalls that breach her doorway does not stop the motion of the blade. How it scrapes against the lower lip, back and forth with a sound that puts her into a slight trance. And yet it all stops once the coat was dropped to the floor, the blade turning towards the blunt edge, her eyes soon directed towards the coat that remains upon the ground, then up towards the large figure of Victor which has her red brows furrowing as if she were slighted.
"The last time I heard those words, I spent a clear week picking bullets out of my backside." If it were a joke, she sure as hell didn't smile, but the blade-tip does point down towards the coat that was dropped by the door. "Pick it up. Then talk."
*
The coat gets left where it is, instead the man just sort of stands there, his arms crossing as he meets those 'slighted' eyes with his own, a little rumble brewing in his throat as he tries to temper his…temper and decide how to start this discussion. "So," he finally speaks, "at what point were you intending to tell me that some point after kicking me off a bridge that we had a kid out there?" Yep, straight to the point.
*
Annoyed. Annoyed. The coat was on the floor and Raven was getting slightly annoyed. Talk about steeling tempers. She did hers as well, which was done by handling the grip of the blade with a bright blue knuckled grasp that has her laxing it so that it could twirl. His question, jarring. Nearly shocked, for her brows lift and fall as she slowly pulls herself to a stand. "Hey. I thought you were dead." Raven states, her shoulders lifting, hands raised in a slight shrug as she allows the blade to roll off of her fingers and onto the couch. "There was nothing to tell."
With that said, she moves straight to the kitchen, tugging the fridge open to peek inside. She was going to need a drink for this talk. "How did you find out."
*
"That 'nothin'?" Victor speaks slowly, his 'even' voice not really great at disguising what bubbles beneath the surface. "That 'nothin' is currently leading the very people that came to mutant town. The goddamn brat is human, and he's the ringleader of that circus. I knew who he was the second I caught his scent."
Raven might just need two drinks after all, but Victor doesn't let up. "You plan on telling the others that our bastard is at the heart of these scum? We'll have a hell of a 'family reunion' if we go crossin' paths again."
*
Two drinks? Raven was going to get the entire goddamned bottle. It was snatched by the neck and the fridge slammed shut, and with a slow pace towards the counter top, she slams the thick bottle of whiskey upon the top of it, both hands lifting to slowly, and carefully place to the surface. She heard him, she could -hear- him, but it didn't register. Not just yet. For her hands slowly lift to twist the cap from the bottle, and a few swigs were taken before it was settled upon the surface yet again.
For never in a million years she would think that one of her own, no matter what genetic marker they would take, would do such a thing. But then again, look at his parents.. "You're going to kill him.." She states as if it were a fact. She doesn't even know her own son, and barely even knows the other one down the hall. But those were separate animals, as it were..
*
"Got another choice?" Victor questions, quirking a brow. Most would be a little put-off at the very least by the prospect of killing their own children, but the man was nothing to Victor who'd only discovered him by chance after so long, and in the midst of leading a slaughter. "He'd kill us all and he revels in it. I'm sure his 'crowd' might not take his family tree so well, but that won't stop them from killin' our kind over and over."
*
"There is always another choice." Raven said with a little bit of finality. Yes, these two were cut from the same cloth, even though she carried their son for nine months, it held no weight with her. Perhaps that is why she was going crazy now, and she didn't even know it. Another swig of whiskey was taken, and soon the bottle was shoved towards Victor as she ponders quietly. "I will tell them about our relation to the leader of the Friends of Humanity. But what we do with him will be left up to us. Only us." Her lips twitch ever so slightly, as her fingers curl into a fist. "Though, you could easily lay the blame on my shoulders, it was my fault after all." A little bit of a smile was given there.. but she continues on..
"So, daddy-o. What do you say to capturing your possibly only son and putting him in the ground, literally. No sun to warm his face. Only to be fed through a metal grate for the rest of his days surrounded by concrete and air that smells like oil and gunpowder." There was a little pause there. "And rat shit."
*
Victor himself just gives a little sniff at the suggestion, shaking his head. "Your game, your lead." he says after a moment. "You decide you want to keep the runt alive, that's your call. Little late for me to be making parental choices isn't it?" The large mutant leans down now, finally picking up the coat, but only so he can sling it around his shoulders and give it a light flick to straighten out.
"But Raven, if it comes down to stopping his crap or letting me and mine? I've had plenty of my own blood spilled through the years. I won't shy away from a little more when it needs it."
*
"Depends." Raven says honestly. "I've only held him for a day. Time is relative in this regard." Surely there was a flicker of emotion there from the blue woman, her head twisting oddly to the side as her fingers curl into a slight fist, a hand lifted and smacked hard into it's surface. That sudden shift of emotion brings out a sudden change, for where a blue skinned, red-headed woman once stood, a blonde forms in her place. Though instead of two blue eyes, one remained yellow as she stares at her hands. With a little snort, she takes another swig of whiskey, then leaves it upon the counter.
"If it comes down to it, Creed. Do what you gotta do." She says with a little bit of finality. "Just do me a favor.. bring him to me when you're done. That's all I ask."
*