gota


The heroes of yesterday are dead and gone. Division and the Mutant Control Enforcement Agency (MCEA) saw to that. This dystopia we live in is the result of one anti-mutant hate crime that sparked the third world war. The law now requires mutants to register, to spend the rest of their lives being a number on a file with a tracking device on their wrist or in their bloodstream.

For a while, the children of fallen heroes started to work in the shadows as the new X-Men. Not all that long ago, the latest incarnation of the X-Men was brought down in flames by Division's efforts. Team members captured, Agents killed, Cosmic fire everywhere... It seems as though the days of the X-Men have come and gone once again. Or have they?

Notice: Human Division employees are still much needed, even if they're depowered mutants. We would also love to see more MHA, Morlock and Purifier affiliated characters.

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 we're going to hell, tagged: joe maximoff
CHAPLYN E. ESLAVA
 Posted: Mar 17 2017, 03:17 AM
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VAMPIRA

DETECTIVE twenty-nine SHE/HER 73 POSTS
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On request, Chaplyn closed the door behind her as she followed Captain Arkin into his office. She stopped on one side of the large desk as he walked around to the other side, neither party saying anything until he was once again facing her. “I need you to turn in your badge and gun.” He paused, raising a hand to silence any all protests and arguments that he rightly surmised she would hurl at him in response to the request. Chaplyn was still too stunned by the turn of events in her case to wholeheartedly argue with him anyway. “This is entirely voluntary, of course. But it’s been department policy that officers with direct family members who have been arrested for a felony take psychological leave for a few days. Minimum three days, but we suggest a week. Take the time to talk to your loved ones, find a way to let go the emotional clutter, then come back to work.”

Chaplyn laughed bitterly, fighting back any and all signs that she was about to completely loose it. Screaming and crying in public was not an option for many, many reasons. Her mother was likely to show up soon and make a world class scene over Burn being arrested. She didn't want to be around for that and hear about how it was probably all her fault. That dissociative floating feeling came into play and her autopilot mode kicked in. She mechanically went through the motions of taking the chain her badge was hanging on off and setting in on the desk. Taking her gun out of its holster, taking the magazine out. Placing the pieces on the desk next to her badge. “Its pto, so really. you shouldn't stress about this. Townsend and Dorsey are gonna take over your casework while you're on leave.”

+++


She’d gone home, but her apartment was just the place with the dead plant, empty fridge and infinite silence. Screaming into a pillow for an hour and standing in a scalding shower too long did little to nothing to help her mood. It didn’t take long after her shower to realize that her vitality stores had been moderately drained. Her adrenaline-based ability to numb pain on top of the emotional numbness managed to conceal the fact that the shower had been a little more than scalding in temperature. So her body healed itself by tapping into her excess vitality stores. Apparently her powers took better care of her than she did.

All of the extra energy from her vitality reserve was gone, at least as far as she could tell. The emotional blackhole was making it difficult to really be sure, which meant sometime in the next few days she was going to have to have to take a little life force from a lot of people. Chaplyn came to the conclusion that if she was just going to haemorrhage energy anyway, she may as well go all in and go get thoroughly obliterated. It took her a while between making the decision and actually getting into the process of getting up off the floor, calling a cab and putting some cloths on.

Lyn put the absolute minimum effort into getting ready as it was really all she was mentally capable of. She’d exchanged her towel for a sparkly gold dress that covered little more than the towel had. Threw on a coat and the first pair of heels she’d stumbled upon and added a coat of red lipstick in the cab. It was the Wildkat, effort was optional at best. It was the place you went for drugs, tits, sex and in her case stealing vitality from scumbags. Somehow, it had become Chaplyn’s default place to go when everything sucked. The second she entered the dimly lit strip club she almost regretted it, finding herself need to immediately restrain herself.

Johnny Moon, the piece of shit loan shark her recently arrest brother was forever in debt to, was sitting at the bar. Chaplyn was struck with the urge to either beat him to death with the stool he was sitting on or just draining all the life out of him until he was a pile of bone dust. She swallowed down the burst of rage, took her cigarette case out of her coat and continued moving through the club. Chaplyn managed to grab an unattended bottle of champagne as she made a beeline for the rear exit where the employees liked to chain smoke. Stepping outside into the small alcove she tucked the bottle under her arm, got a cigarette out and proceeded to fight with her lighter. Her aggravation level was such that she found herself mumbling ‘fuck you’ every time it refused to ignite.
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JOSEPH V. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: Mar 17 2017, 06:47 AM
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HEYLEL

RECOVERY AGENT 28 He/Him 74 POSTS
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© Kee · He/Him · Offline


Something about the day left a sour taste in his mouth. From the moment of its conception, there was just something off – something disarming, rotten. He couldn’t place it, nor had he tried to. Joseph had pulled himself out of bed this morning, using what little will he had, and stumbled into his closet. He wasn’t sure how long he was in there; it was a warm and inviting place. It helped that there had been an old bottle on the floor. He wasn’t sure what it was, the warmth had all but stripped away all of the taste leaving only the bitter bite when he took a sip. That sip soon turned into a gulp, which slowly morphed into a fit of sobbing.

He didn’t know why nor did he usually have the strength to attempt to venture into his own psyche to figure that shit out. By the time the moment had passed he had found himself dressed and stumbling out of the room – which, by this point in time, he realized was his office. The bed had been his desk, and all the shit that was strewn about the room were documents that needed to be filled by noon yesterday. There had been a binge at some point, and from the looks of room it wasn’t a short one. A day, possible two, it really didn’t matter at that point. He hadn’t been disturbed which meant that everybody was busy actually doing their jobs. What a novel idea.

Somehow it had taken an hour to exit the building. He wasn’t quite sure if it was because it took him an hour to decide on which tie to wear, or he had found his way into the closet again for a good mental breakdown. It didn’t really matter. As, by the time he made it to Wildkat, it was a quarter after nine in the morning. That meant the breakfast buffet was going strong, and he’d have the place largely to himself for a couple hours. It was the type of solitude he needed, and he could let his heartbeat synch up to the medley of classic rock that would pulsate through the room. Nothing beat eating runny eggs to the beat of ‘Dragula,’ it was absolutely refreshing.

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes to hours, and thus he made his way across the club like a hurricane. At some point he was at the counter, reaching across and grabbing bottles without regard to the bartender’s threats. Handfuls of dollar bills often used as threat deterrents. There had been a lap dance, but his interest in playing on his phone ultimately won out, until he had efficiently bombarded the burner phone with enough EMPs to kill it. Stumbling from the private room, collapsing against the stage, he slowly made his way out the back door. Leaning against the frame for a moment, the scent of piss and cigarette smoke was absolutely exhilarating.

Staggering away from the door, he found his place upon the brick wall opposite of the club. People came and went, multiple vulgar transgressions took place. Joseph’s mind wondered, as his head fell back against the cold, hard structure. That’s when he heard a familiar voice. It was low, seemingly whispered, but it was enough to bring a light smirk to his cracked and dry lips. He didn’t need to look up; he could feel her very essence crashing down upon the alleyway. The chorus of aggravated mutterings was enough to bring back some sense of life to his currently passive existence. Peeking over, he was quick to extend his arm and snap his fingers.

And Prometheus brought to man fire, so they could light their cigarettes and cook their meth to numb the pain away, and fuck themselves in dimly lit rooms. How’d it go?

He knew the answer to that question; she was here. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t somewhat interested in hearing the details. With the gesture, the air began to crackle around his fingertips, creating a small warmth in the air above his palm. Relatively harmless, but enough for her to light he cigarette on.
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CHAPLYN E. ESLAVA
 Posted: Mar 19 2017, 12:13 AM
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VAMPIRA

DETECTIVE twenty-nine SHE/HER 73 POSTS
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© MAGS · SHE/HER · Offline


Chaplyn froze mid-motion at the sound of snapping fingers and rolled her eyes up to see who had made the sound. Not that she needed to. He’d already started speaking, and somehow he was just sort of always there. She edited her mental list of things she appreciated about the Wildkat. Drugs, tits, sex, scumbags, and Joe. What was that saying about misery and company? With the exception of those times when he was being a monumental prick, Joe was an excellent companion for dark days.

Despite her bad mood she smiled. Using the hand with the shitty lighter in it to hold back her hair, Chaplyn leant down towards Joe’s hand. Not too close, just enough so that the cigarette’s tip was touching the offered heat. The dry warmth radiating from her fellow mutant was a welcome contrast to the damp cold of the alley. It was probably hotter than it felt but she’d been burning through her adrenaline stores just to stay upright. As well as the whole bleeding vitality thing, at this point physical pain was basically for other people.

Breathing in that first drag Lyn straightened up, let her hair fall back around her face and exhaled in a sigh. Cigarette still between her lips, she both thanked and greeted Joe with “Prometheus be praised.” He looked rough and she wondered just how long he’d been at the club, or even how long he’d been just hanging out in the alley. She slipped her useless lighter back into her jacket pocket and extended the cigarette case towards Joe, offering him one.

Taking another drag she removed the smoke from between her lips and held it between her index and middle finger. Reaching that hand for the open bottle held against her body, she brought it to her lips and took a gulp. It was still passable and had nothing funny in it, which was more of a relief than it still being bubbly. “Well, I can sit back and spend the week doing fuck all to help keep my brother out of prison. Or I can come work here-” Chaplyn gestured to both the building and the alley the stood in, and couldn’t keep the darkly humored bitterness from her voice. “-and spend my days giving lonely losers handjobs for free drinks.”

Metal case was tucked back into her jacket and Lyn used her free arm to casually hug herself. Chaplyn didn’t do well when left to her own devices for longer than a day or two. She thrived in structured environments with set goals, pressure, and or things to focus on even if it was just busywork. It was hard not to just completely unload her woes all at once right there in the alley. Another swallow from the stolen bottle was taken, immediately followed by another drag from her cigarette. Her paid time off had only just begun and already she was tired of everything. “I don't know what the fuck I'm going to do.”
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JOSEPH V. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: Apr 21 2017, 06:00 AM
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HEYLEL

RECOVERY AGENT 28 He/Him 74 POSTS
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© Kee · He/Him · Offline


As the case was offered. Joe was quick to accept. He had shown up with his own pack, but over the course of his time at the club that had been smoked straight through to the bottom. In more desperate times one would find him him licking the bits and pieces of tobacco off the bottom of the package just to get his fix. But, for the sake of keeping appearances, such actions were avoided.

You can’t do that. We’ve been over this before.

His reply was sharp, spit out like a dagger.

When that day comes, I get the alley. I don’t know how many more times we can have this fucking conversation. Swear to god ... ”

After a quick light, he took a deep drag. Taking it into his body and letting it linger inside of his lungs. He wasn’t in any rush to exhale, letting it swirl and clump within. A slow trickle through his nostrils was all that was allowed. While possibility of killing himself through inhalation was exhilarating, he knew it would never come to pass. Not that his body would allow it, or for that matter the universe. He had long accepted that when it came time to punch his card in, it was going to be nice and bloody. Hopefully, he also managed to take as many people with him on that ride as possible. He wasn’t really a fan of trips in the dark alone, and that definitely seemed like an adventure you didn’t want to attempt solo.

He wanted to offer his help, but he knew more likely than not he’d just make things worse. He was pretty good at doing that.

We could always kill the judge?

It was partially a joke, for now. If push came to shove, the likelihood of him denying such a request from her was relatively low. Not to say he was all for randomly killing officials because they wronged him, but he wasn’t exactly against revenge either.

Kidnap members of his family, send him pieces that aren’t actually pieces? I don’t know. I feel like this is the perfect place to hatch that kind of plan. The ambiance is fucking perfect.

She had far more connections than Joe did, that was for sure. But when it came to pressing people to get what they wanted, he liked to believe he had a bit of charm. If by charm you meant walking around places yelling and screaming, threatening people, finding out their dirty little secrets for leverage, etc. He tried not to pry too heavily into her personal life unless invited. Which was somewhat of an oddity, as Jer and Mack usually had to beat him out theirs with whatever they could find. It wasn’t in his nature to simply allow the universe to be; he wanted control., he wanted a heads-up. He didn’t like surprises, nor did he care for variables. Everything needed to be cataloged, everything had to go according to plan.

It was hard to just sit by and watch. It just wasn’t his style. But for now, that’s all he could do, and if he was going to be forced into that box he was definitely going to do what he could to take her mind off of the disaster that her life was turning into. Not that he was really one to talk, as he seemed to be standing proudly on a sinking shape showing no signs or attempts of trying to escape.

Absolute worst-case scenario – don’t fucking hit me, I’m warning you – I’m sure we know enough people to get him a boyfriend on the inside. Minimal ass-play.
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CHAPLYN E. ESLAVA
 Posted: Apr 27 2017, 06:01 AM
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VAMPIRA

DETECTIVE twenty-nine SHE/HER 73 POSTS
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© MAGS · SHE/HER · Offline


His tone made her flinch, not by much but it still counted. She didn’t mind because it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, and she did it almost every time he used it. Chaplyn had already known that she was going to have to do something incredibly stupid, even with the biting tone his words just reenforced it. Joe didn’t waver the way that she tended to do when it came to family problems. She was always on the cusp of either pushing her siblings off the wall or pulling them back to safety. Lyn let out a darkly humored chuckle. “Who are you trying to kid, we’ll still be having this conversation long after we’re both dead. ‘Cuz it’s never going to get easier.”

She momentarily zoned out, her mind pushing her back towards the nothingness that had made it so difficult to keep standing. Chaplyn gestured to the wall behind him, before taking another long drink. “But don’t worry, I’ll write your name on that wall in glow-in-the-dark paint so that everybody knows.” His name, a giant penis. One or the other. It wasn’t as if she would ever actually end up working there anyway. She had options. Some of them genuinely sucked but they were still technically better than the Wildkat.

Without being particularly aware of it, she took a few slow, small, steps towards the warm spot his presence had generated. The suggestion to kill the judge caught her off guard for a moment. Lyn stopped, looked at him for a moment, before finally smiling and laughing. She was fairly certain he was joking about killing or psychologically tormenting a judge. The only way she could imagine him actually taking part in something like that would be if said judge was a direct threat to his sister or Jeremiah. It was a very creative solution.

“Well, I do know of a CI who runs a crematorium. I’m sure he would be happy to help get the right parts, for the right price.” She was fairly certain that was exactly the type of information she wasn’t suppose to share with anyone. Not even while somewhat joking about it. She was also certain that she didn’t particularly care. It wasn’t like this would be the first or last time she ever told him sensitive information, and he generally seemed to be good at not revealing his sources. “But you didn’t hear that from me, because I never said it and I wasn’t even here... You’re not wrong about the ambiance though.” The amused expression faded around the edges slipping closer to her neutral ‘cop face’, as she glanced around the grime-coated alley. It really did seem like an appropriate place to plan something life-ruining. Chaplyn brought her cigarette to he lips, this time leaving it there when she moved her hand away.

The pair was silent for a few beats before Joe offered up another creative gem. Once again, he was right, not that that was particularly surprising. Under many other circumstances, Chaplyn would have given anyone who said anything even remotely close to what he’d just said, a playful swat... or worse. She was particularly physical when it came to displays of emotion. Less so since her vampirism levelled up. Joe generally wasn’t exempt from the occasional swat, poke, pat or arm squeeze, just because he was technically an untouchable with volatile abilities. She was just careful not to touch his skin or do it when he was either overly wound up or sedate. She also tried not to make it a habit, otherwise she was likely to momentarily forget the important no-touch policies at some point. On this occasion, she was too exhausted for the effort involved. There was, again, the part where he was right and that it wasn’t even the worst or off-base thing he could of said.

Chaplyn removed the cigarette from between her lips so that both of her hands were now occupied. Exhaling slowly, she found herself looking at a suddenly interesting vague stain on the concrete. “If even half the shit I found out today is true, the Gilzeans probably already have a boyfriend lined up for Burn.” The fucking mob. How could he have been so stupid? Even though it had thus far cost her a lot of money, she couldn’t be overly affronted by Burn’s with his addiction without being mildly hypocritical. Burn gambled, Chaplyn did copious amounts of drugs. Both were things she had vented to Joe about in the past. Burn's latest bullshit however,was something she could and likely would rage on about for a while.

“But hey, at least it’s not quite ‘judge-torture-time’ yet. Unless something major has changed in the last few hours, it’s not quite that far along yet.” The door behind her opened letting out the noise from inside and she glanced in the direction. Whoever had considered coming outside had either gotten distracted or changed their mind as the door closed. It was enough to remind her what was waiting inside, and all pretence of amusement or neutrality retreated once again. “It’s closer to ‘force feed Johnny fucking Moon his own teeth until he starts talking’. That fuckrag always knows something.”
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JOSEPH V. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: Feb 27 2018, 02:07 AM
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HEYLEL

RECOVERY AGENT 28 He/Him 74 POSTS
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© Kee · He/Him · Offline


Why the hell would we need a crematorium?

Joe looked legitimately confused by the statement. Although he’d be lying if he stated that he wasn’t absolutely intrigued by the idea that she had somebody in her contacts that not only would let her use their shop after hours but doing so with zero questions. Joe really couldn’t think of too many things you’d want to sneak into a crematorium after hours to handle. This would be something he’d keep in the back of his mind. But back to the question at hand, especially seeing as he had just lit her cigarette with his hand, he just chuckled.

I mean, immolating a body would be a nice way to discharge some energy if we’re being a hundred percent honest. I feel as though you don’t find more of a safer, judgement-free zone than the back alley of a strip club.

Not that he hadn’t thought of it. Not today. Not in the last few hours. But it had been something that came up from time to time, especially with the jobs that he and Jeremiah had been picking up as of late. It was only a matter of time before something was going to get more complicated than either one of them was ready or willing to handle. When such a time came, Joe was confident in the fact that he could do it without flinching. The thought process being that if they were already dead, you really couldn’t insult them by turning them into a smoldering pile of ashes. There were worse ways to dispose of a body, he was sure of it.

That being said, he knew the looks he’d get at the office if word got around that he had started and supplementary body removal service on the side. Sure, there was money in it. Both official and unofficially. It seemed like a very marketable skill set. But being known as the guy who hunted other mutants by day and burned their bodies at night wasn’t something he was really looking to get into. He had enough heat at the moment as is. Not that he was ever opposed to pissing off even more people. What was life without a bit of spice?

We could even make an ash angel after we’re all said and done. Roll around in it, maybe get it a bit damp and make balls of ash and throw them at each other. I’ve gone done the rabbit hole on this one, it’s a thing now.

All that being said, through the haze of his own normal levels of cynicism and self-admiration, he was beginning to wonder about the possibility of the statement actually coming to fruition. Not that he cared about his own reputation, but Chaplyn’s was a whole different ballgame. Not that he thought she cared all that much to begin with.

But I’m all for kicking in somebody’s teeth and what not. We can start with basic assault, I’m okay with that. We start off small, maybe break a few ribs, see how that shirt fits.
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CHAPLYN E. ESLAVA
 Posted: Mar 2 2018, 05:39 AM
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VAMPIRA

DETECTIVE twenty-nine SHE/HER 73 POSTS
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© MAGS · SHE/HER · Offline


Chaplyn was momentarily confused by his blatant confusion, until she realized where it was all coming from. "I was thinking more paying the weirdo for corpse pieces to pass off and belonging to the hypothetical judge's loved ones. You know, for the torture thing..." After a long slow drag the detective removed the cigarette from between her lips so that once again both of her hands were busy. She needed her hands busy so she'd have no choice but to keep them to herself. Exhaling slowly she absently rubbed her lower lip with her thumb. "But you, you make an excellent point."

She wished he hadn't, it only reminded her of just how powerful he was. While she was well aware of it, Lyn didn't typically care that Joe was massively, dangerously powerful. It was just a bad time for her to be reminded that she was a starving vampire standing in front of a energy buffet. All that energy bound into one place and it wasn't any real use to her. She needed life-force energy to stat on her feet, anything else was beyond her ability to collect or use. Then again she had never knowingly taken a bite out of a mutant before.

Chaplyn caught herself gazing at him not unlike the way a predator appraised prey. She licked her lips almost nervously before taking a deep drink from the bottle in hand, as though trying to wash the mental image away. It wasn't an option. She couldn't do that to him. He was Joe and she never wanted him to hurt him, or see him get hurt because of her. There was also the part where he didn't currently know she was a monster, and she preferred it that way. Lyn couldn't stand the thought of him knowing, the thought of how he'd look at her if he knew.

Thinking about it all just made her want to start crying again, to the point where she felt the hot tears building up. Lyn nearly choked on the champagne as she let out a shocked laugh. "You did, you... too far." She brushed a lock of hair off of her face and tucked it behind her ear. "...also I don't think five-ish pounds of ash would be enough for a decent ash-angel." She snickered and mumbled 'decent' under her breath.

Between her job and having literally reduced more than a handful of people to ash, Lyn knew way more on the subject than she had ever wanted to. He had no way of knowing that. Unless he did. Unless he knew and this was a trap. He was a recovery agent who occasionally did work for Division. Chaplyn internally cursed herself out for even thinking it. He wouldn't, she knew he wouldn't. Didn't she? Stop it.

She was just 'hungry' and tired, and it put her on edge. It was like her mind was trying to conjure up any reason at all for her to pounce. Chaplyn knew it, she just had to keep reminding herself of it. After all, he was standing in a urine soaked alley with her talking about murdering officials and immolating their bodies. He was right on top of her assaulting the loan-shark idea, as if she had proposed a more ordinary activity like... Lyn couldn't think of a mundane activity but smiled slowly at his unwavering enthusiasm.

Chaplyn caught herself slowly gravitating towards him again and stopped herself by switching to shuffling her feet instead. Lyn was no longer sure if it was the radiating warmth that was drawing her in. "I think you might actually be my favorite person." Surely saying it out loud would help her to keep the thought in her head until well after she fed and was no longer a plausible danger to Joe's health. Lyn cleared her throat and hoped she hadn't just colossally fucked up their natural balance.

"So, we assault dick-nuts for information he might not have. Then what? Hope he's too brain-damaged to remember? Or do we turn him into... ash-balls?"
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JOSEPH V. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: May 5 2018, 10:28 PM
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HEYLEL

RECOVERY AGENT 28 He/Him 74 POSTS
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He wasn’t sure how to approach that statement. They had rounded back to the plan at hand but Joe was still trying to analyze the statement. It was simple enough, but the possible implications were something that definitely had crossed his mind before. Not that it had been said out loud before, but there was definitely something else. He wasn’t one for reading into things, which was odd given his line of work. He tried to take them at face value when it came to personal relationships instead of reading between each and every line and trying to figure out the code of it all. That was just too tiring to do all the time. That was usually pretty easy, especially with Jeremiah, he tended to be pretty straightforward.

There several different ways that he could approach it, the way that instantly jumped out at him was for him to simply ignore the statement and continue on with their plotting. It had been a bit since he had tortured anybody. There definitely was something to be said for keeping your skill sharp. But even as he tried to steer his thoughts away, all he could think about was the distance between them and the shuffling of her feet.

I don’t think we’d have to worry about him talking.

It wasn’t the best recovery, especially seeing as he had been silent for a minute or so. He could feel his core temperature rising and closed his eyes for a moment. He took a deep breath as he tried to regulate it the best he could. It had been a couple days since Joe had taken the time to discharge any large amounts of energy and it was beginning to take its toll on him. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, but things were definitely starting to get uncomfortable. The longer he waited, the warmer he got. The more heat he gave off. The more he felt like just peeling off his skin and exposing his innards to the world just to get a bit of relief before he eventually died from the loss of blood.

If only he could be so lucky. He’d probably go into shock from the trauma of tearing off one's own flesh and die in a pool of his own blood, a sweltering mess, painfully slow.

I think between the two of us we could probably give him some pretty convincing reasons to keep his mouth shut. Threaten to kill his bloodline, whatever.

It was a joke, but it was something that he knew people expected out of him, were waiting for, whatever. Most assumed hunting his own kind was just the tip of the iceberg and were ready for the rest of the darkness to creep into the light. Sure, he occasionally had homicidal urges and would love to wipe out a large portion of the world, but who didn’t? It wasn’t a specific race though, just people in general. Possibly some aliens thrown in the mix.

If not, what’s one less scumbag?

Leaning forward, his figure loomed over her as he stepped away from the wall. The pressure against his back had become more bothersome than anything else. The shirt was heat resistant, but wasn’t the most comfortable. Especially when he was ready to throw himself into a freezer and just fall into a pleasant coma. Looking down at Chaplyn, he couldn’t help find himself both amused by her situation and ready to do whatever he could to fix it. If that meant the two of them were going to go on a bit of an adventure that evening, so be it. If she needed to sit and drink for a couple hours, that was okay too. Drugs would be good. That could help as well. He was pretty fond of that idea.

Officially, that title belongs to Jeremiah. But I think he sticks around half the time because he feels like he has to.”

The words slipped out quick, almost under his breath. He had to address it. He couldn’t just let that go without giving it a moment out in the open.

But I find myself more often than not wishing you were around when you’re not. I want to be here, right now, and that’s new and it’s kind of terrifying.
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CHAPLYN E. ESLAVA
 Posted: May 10 2018, 03:31 AM
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VAMPIRA

DETECTIVE twenty-nine SHE/HER 73 POSTS
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© MAGS · SHE/HER · Offline


Joe's silence seemed to stretch on forever which only served to make Lyn internally panic and curse herself out for ruining a perfectly good something. She gave serious consideration to just excusing herself, hurriedly sinking her fangs into a bunch of scumbags too fucked up to notice, and then getting the hell out of South Lawndale. It was a cowardly string of thoughts but hitting the eject button felt a lot better than the thunderous silence in the alley. By the time he finally said something, Chaplyn had nervously smoked her cigarette down to the butt. Dropping the remnants of her smoke to the ground and squashing the smoldering paper with her foot she let go of some of the tension in her shoulders.

His return to plotting something ridiculous and horrible was beyond merciful at that point. Chaplyn managed a smile and she nodded along with Joe's assessment of why Johnny would probably never say a word about who thoroughly kicked his ass. "The fine art of persuasion." He certainly wasn't wrong. Even one of them making those kinds of threats would potentially be terrifying, but from both of them? She definitely wouldn't want to be on the receiving end in that kind of position.

'What's one less scumbag?' Lyn shook her head with a smile, he was sounding a lot like her partner. She had been trying for years to get onto that train in order to just survive. "I've been hearing a lot of that lately." It wasn't an easy train to get onto, at least not for her. She liked to blame whatever lingering bit of stupidity that had caused her to join the X-Men way back when. Taking a metaphysical bite out of them was one thing, but to just start murdering them was something else entirely.

Letting out a tired sigh she lifted the bottle to take another drink but hesitated as Joe stepped towards her. Chaplyn became entirely too aware of their proximity and she could practically taste her own pulse. Taking the drink she found herself changing her hold on the bottle so that both hands were wrapped around it. He was far too close for her to have an unoccupied hand, she was slowly starving and he was right there. Looking up at Joe, the vampire hated herself for the uninvited thoughts. Her brows knitted together in confusion as she tried to grasp what the hell he was saying. He hadn't actually dropped or ignored the subject, why would he? Joe wasn't exactly known for letting things slide.

Wide-eyed and blinking up at him she found herself too mentally tired to even try to suppress her surprise. It took her a good thirty seconds of trying and failing to find any of the words she knew in either of her languages. She hadn't meant for this to turn into emotional honestly hour, but there they were. Chaplyn hadn't dreamed Joe would have responded the way he had and her mind instantly went to the worst case scenario. "Joe, please tell me if you're fucking with me right now." Her words were hushed but not exactly even or calm.

Frozen like a deer in the headlights, Lyn licked her lips nervously as she tried to verbally continue her train of thought. Her life and the people around her had never really been steady enough for her to ever be able to take things at face value. Whenever she had, she'd always had that proverbial rug ripped out from under her when she least expected it. "If you are I swear... Fuck!" Chaplyn had absently squeezed the bottle with too much of her strength, crushing it in her hands and spraying the ground with champagne and broken glass. She shook her now wet hands and in doing so caught a glimpse of light reflecting off of green shards in her palms.

"Goddamnit." Chaplyn winced looking down at her palms. Glass in the hands was something that should have hurt, but she didn't feel a thing, and she knew exactly what was going to happen when she started to pull it all out. Her hands were going to heal and she was just going to continue hemorrhaging energy she didn't have to spare. Sniffling and trying to suppress the tears threatening to be shed, she started to pick at the shards while refusing to look anywhere but her hands. "Joe... I'm barely holding on most days and if you're just saying that because you think it's what I want to hear, I'm going to just completely lose my shit."
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JOSEPH V. MAXIMOFF
 Posted: Jun 6 2018, 01:13 PM
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HEYLEL

RECOVERY AGENT 28 He/Him 74 POSTS
APPLICATION SHIPPER
© Kee · He/Him · Offline


Don’t be fucking silly.

He said almost at reflex. It wasn’t often that Joe opened up like that, at least not without several hours of verbally insulting somebody and breaking them down. If they lasted that long, honesty was usually refreshing to hear. He had never been one to express his feelings verbally, or usually at all. It didn’t come natural to him and it never had. This comfortability that the city and registration had brought to them was something foreign. Several years had gone by, but he still looked over his shoulder with a keen eye. Always ready to fight, even when there was nobody around for miles. It was just something he couldn’t shake, not that he tried too hard to let go of such tendencies.

Her anxiousness shouldn’t have made him smile, but it did. He tried to hide it, but he wasn’t doing that great of a job at it. It was unlike her and not something he was used to seeing. At least not without a threat of violence following soon after or some sort of substance to help level the playing field. She wasn’t entirely wrong to assume that he was fucking with her, but he liked to believe he wasn’t one to toy with the emotions of others. Sure, he wasn’t above manipulating his paydays like that, but it was work. But she had also been around long enough to know that Joe had come along way from the person he had been when he first came to the city. A time when he’d say whatever needed to be heard to make sure he had a roof over their heads.

There was a reason he was still alive. That Mack was still alive. When you kept everyone at arm’s length it was a hell of a lot easier to melt their face off if you needed to. She had always been different. She had always seen through his bullshit and was willing to call him out on it, even when it wasn’t the most practical thing to do at the time. It kept him honest.

You know I’m not good at this shit.

The words were spat out as his nerves got the best of him. Acknowledging the emotions was one thing, finding a viable means of expressing them in an appropriate manner was an entirely different monster. He could count the number of times that he had loved her on a single hand. Jeremiah was a bit more, but that was because they drank together quite frequently, and for some reason it was just easier to say it to him than it was to his own sister. It was at times confusing, but he had come to accept it. Mack knew that he loved her and didn’t doubt it for a single moment. Sometimes with Jeremiah he wondered and so he felt the need to reinforce with verbally from time to time.

His selfishness often came in the form of hurting Jeremiah. While not always intentional, there was definitely a pattern. Thankfully the man had thick skin and a sharp tongue. It was the same way with Chap, but different.

I know I can be a piece of shit. I own that. But I’m not just trying to -

Annnd she was bleeding. The mess didn’t matter, they were in the back of the god damn club. Somebody would be along soon enough to sweep it up, or they wouldn’t. Life would go on and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last time somebody broke a bottle back there. Probably not the last time that night. He was pretty sure he had thrown his fair share of empty bottles against the wall so it was pretty much a nonpoint. But watching her as she frantically began picking at her palms, avoiding his gaze, he placed gently placed his hands on her shoulders. Trying his damndest to regulate the heat he was giving off, not wanting to add third degree burns to her current list of ailments.

We can continue this conversation after we deal with how fucking clumsy you are.”

A lighthearted chuckle escaped his lips. He moved his hands down, cupping hers, as he began to illuminate the area around them to give a clear picture as to what the damage was.
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