WELCOME TO NEXUS.

[Talon-X]

Intro

Laura's Closet

There was an age old saying of how one could never truly judge a book by its cover. Meaning that one could not look upon someone and truly know what lied behind what their outer shell portrayed. For instance, one would look upon the teenage kid skating up the pavement and see too many piercing, too many tattoos, his lime green Mohawk and figure him to be some punk kid who would not offer anything of importance to this world. Unaware of his art displays in some of the most renowned art galleries throughout the city that had many calling him the next artistic great of our time. Or follow the couple walking hand in hand with such a loving bliss in their eyes as they embraced one another and figure their love to be among the purest you’ve ever seen before. Not able to see the countless bruises hidden beneath of her clothes and make-up from when her beloved ‘loved’ her a little too much. Nor would you look at the tall, alluring, voluptuous blonde strutting the streets pretending to be unaware of the countless lustful glance received from the men she passed and tell that only a few months ago ‘she’ carried the same reproductive equipment they did. Rising a few floors up into the window of the towering apartment complex to peer into the bedroom where a childlike vessel slept on top of her sheets and you would yet again find a misleading sight. For one would look upon this youthful vision of innocent beauty and believe her rest to be peaceful. A glance at her well furnished room would make you believe that her life was stable. Or check out the price for the apartment and believe her parents were well off as was she. However the clicking sound of the front door’s lock and turning of the nearly silent doorknob would change all that.

As soon as the insertion of the door key set the first latch of the lock in motion, hazel brown eyes shot open given fair warning from her alert ears. Uncanny agility and graceful speed moved the dark haired child underneath the large canopy bed in a matter of seconds before the door in the other room could even be opened. From her crouched position she watched from under the bed like a jungle cat watching its prey, replacing the innocence in her face with an animalistic snare. The slightly older man in the overpriced suit ushered a newlywed couple into the room. She could hear their words perfectly but her attention was focused on any sudden movement that might reveal her presence to them. Frozen still like a statue you could barely hear her breath as she stayed undetectable even as she placed the boots onto her feet without using her hands. Quietly she waited until the couple was taken to another room, using this chance to swiftly moved to the window which she opened and exited out of. Moving out of the window while gripping the frame of the opening with her right hand, she slammed both boots and her left fist into the wall holding herself up fifteen stories above ground by the claws that popped out from her with only a slight wince of pain. Closing the window with her free hand now that she was supported she paused once she caught sight of the next door neighbor looking right at her. The poor old lady was only trying to water her plants when she caught of the girl that made her freeze in shock. Seeing this child with claws planted into the wall. Laura gave her a bone chilling glare before growling and extending the last two claws from between her right knuckles. The woman made a frightful gasp before moving back into her window and slamming it shut. Relaxing the muscles in her face she started a climb up five more stories to the roof of the building.

Currently finding herself without a place to sleep or anyway to make any money meant she had to find other means of lodging. And with the enhanced abilities she possessed along with the countless hours of skills burned into her brain, ‘squatting’ seemed like an ideal method. Using her enhanced hearing to pick up any recently vacant rooms of any apartment complex she passed. Her handy breaking and entering skills to gain access to said vacancy. As well as keeping track of her neighbors’ movement and her own stealth to ensure she could move about the room undetected. So far the method had brought many warm nights in a staged/furnished apartment where she could get a hot shower and comfortable bed. At least until a potential tenant came along and ruined it for her. And from the eager tone of the couple’s voice and hastened heartbeat the two were sure to make an offer on the place. Which meant that she would have to be moving on, returning to the life that required her to sleep on a couple of benches or in some abandoned building. But don’t feel sorry for the child, she was bred to survive in any living condition she found herself. She wasn’t bothered in the least where her luck would land her as long as she made each step unshackled from anyone’s leash. Freedom was something she was not looking to lose anytime soon. Reaching the top of the building she moved from the edge of the roof to where she stashed her duffle bag containing all her worldly possessions. Not much but she didn’t need much in this world. And she would protect all she had by any means. Inside were some clothes she had gathered through illegal means of shoplifting or by legal means of purchasing them…with the money she picked from others pockets. Opening the bag she retrieved a black leather jacket to throw over her thin shirt and grey jeans. Taking a moment to rub her fingers across the pages torn from a storybook before she closed the contents and shifted the duffle bag onto her back.

Not taking a moment to breath she rushed the edge of the roof and leapt into the air, tumbling onto the adjacent rooftop some five stories below. Not missing a stride she rolled onto her feet and continued her pace as she leapt another five stories down onto the next roof. Moving to the next edge she simply hopped over and landed on the fire escape that would take her decent the rest of the way to the ground of the alley below her. Making her way into the street with her head lowered to the ground it did not take much for her to blend into the crowd of people moving about. One of the good things about hiding in the streets of New York were that it was easy to go unnoticed among a collection of people who could care less about who you were or where you came from. It was here that Laura had found her refuge, but for how long would it last? How long could she stay off of Weapon-X’s radar? Unaware of its demise she still figured they were hunting for one of its most prized possessions that had escaped once again. She still had no idea what had released her from neck restraints some time ago but it was only a matter of time before she would be hunted down like the animal they bred. But with no money or idea of where to run to Laura was finding herself stuck in limbo. She had plenty of skills that could make her a couple of dollars on the streets using her body like she had in the old days, but those methods were ones she wish not revisit. And with Daddy Zebra cold in the ground there was no reason for her to even consider them. Still with no family to turn to or friends to protect her, what was she to do? A mysterious man approached her a couple of days ago about joining his army of Marauders but it seemed that her better senses warded her away from whatever cage he was looking to place her in. Walking aimlessly was pretty much became all she had been doing for days. Looking for her next meal or place to lay her head.

She was made to follow orders with unshaken obedience but without any directive to follow she had no purpose in life. Dark thoughts and emotions creeping into her being that that brought about the all too familiar urge to feel adamantium metal cut into her flesh till she could feel nothing but numbing pain course through her being…because…because…why? Something washed over Laura with a stronger force then what had caused by her inner turmoil. But what gave such painful thought? It was on the edge of her mind and then pushed far into the forgotten. So far she had no idea what was plaguing her mind or why it was causing her mental laced claws to sheath out of her skin. It was quite eerie for the girl who could recall almost every bit of training drilled into her since birth but could not even grab the thought she held moments ago. Retracting the claws that had peaked through her flesh back to their resting place she looked up around her to find her aimless path had led her straight to a ice skating rink. Countless people moved about the sheet of ice seeming to not have a single care in the world. And by some means that nonchalant demeanor had found its way to infect the naturally born killer the closer she came to the center. Drawn to it she moved closer feeling all her fears, concerns and various other emotional turmoil just fade into nothing. She welcomed the painless numbing effect. Coming to the outer rink she spied a pair of skates abandoned on the side that appeared to be her size. Dropping her bag she held so close without a care of its contents to the floor, Laura moved to the ice skates and removed her own footwear to be replaced. Ice skating had been one of the more miscellaneous skills taught to her by her creators. Of course their method was to use the blades of the skates as a means to assassinate a target…but none of that seemed relevant today.

None of the horrors brought on by the hand of Weapon-X…or the endless amount of blood on her hand….or all consuming sense of being hunted. Her own actions felt unsettling at first. To the point she could feel her inner self fighting against whatever was happening…but why should she fight? There was nothing she could recall that was keeping her from enjoying this. Lacing up her skates she moved on to the ice and began gliding about with the grace of a pro. Feeling the wave of calm take more of a hold of her lifted all pain and angst from her being. Bringing about the most unnatural force in her muscles as the corners of the girl’s lips were horrifically morphed…into an actual smile.

[XxGambit]

Gambit was quite proud of himself. He wished he could have been there to see the shock on A-Gente-Zilch’s face, but just knowing he slipped the woman from underneath the man’s nose was definitely enough to prove Remy had the upper hand all along. Oh ho, that was bound to piss Zero off! He couldn’t contain his laughter, oddly leaving his voice behind where he once was as the teleporter zoomed them to who in the hell knows where. Being a thief was about taking chances at times. No risk, no reward. He only hoped he and Fox didn’t end up in space suffocating amongst the stars, or underwater drowning to death, or in a wall disfiguring themselves. Merde, t’at’s alotta chances. Perhaps too much for the thief, but he always did have an act now think later mentality. Sort of. Who knew with the thief? Maybe his actions were all well calculated to this point in time and he knew exactly what he was doing. Imagine the world knowing Gambit was a master manipulator and was controlling everyone with invisible strings.

How very Mister Sinister of him. He gagged at the thought.

The change of scenery was gut-wrenching, even to someone used to teleporting about. The dim and dreary Annex of the laboratory was replaced with vivid hues of white and gray, each color glaring with such vivacity Gambit’s pupils couldn’t handle the sudden change. He briefly made out other people moving around, quite quickly, as him and Fox materialized a foot off the ground. Remy barely had enough time to realize how cold the place was before his feet hit the slick flooring beneath him. Not yet capable of understanding he was on ice, his face flashed with surprise as his feet were swept out from under him (and unfortunately for Fox his arm was still intertwined with hers). He fell backwards as if someone pulled the rug out from under him. His back slammed into the ice, a groan passed his lips, a swoosh of oxygen flew from his lungs like a fox running from hounds, and he blinked at the sky while noticing heads continuously moving about at the side of his vision. He was suddenly wet, cold, and aching. This was not what he signed up for.

The chill radiating from his back made him realize he was lying on ice. He lifted himself up to a sitting position, mumbling about his coat getting wet and ruined. Straightening out his collar, he glanced around again, ignoring the blurs of people on skates as the ice rink’s cement walls blocked the majority of his vision. His eyes managed to pierce the haze of people and towards a statue glancing down at them in its mocking, gold face. Rolling his eyes, Remy finally realized where they ended up. Rockefeller Center was a hard place not to remember. Some good times here (private times for a thief, you know). Gambit slowly considered the teleporter did more than take them from place to place, but also to the future or past. The ice rink was open now? He was having a hard time believing it.

During the entire ordeal, Remy never once unleashed his hold on Fox. It was an instinct not to let her go for some strange reason. “Don’t move too fast,” he demanded, trying to pick himself up, “gonna break my skull in.” The lovely thing about New Yorkers was that they neither cared about someone falling nor stared when someone fell. To them, Gambit and Fox had been there the entire time. Their minds couldn’t register two people falling from the sky. Besides, they had no proof Gambit and Fox did just appear out of no where with all the congestion. After a brief moment and still trying to keep Fox close, Remy managed to get to his feet, wobbly regaining his balance. His back was frozen and wet, making him miserable and irritated, but he looked around before realizing they had to get off the ice. Or at least put some skates on. “We need t’get outta here before we get run over.” Cursing to himself, he aimed to pull Fox along, only to be blocked but a continuous loop of people.

They were trapped like rats, unable to run on the ice, with the stupid golden statue laughing at them behind their backs. That t'ing is gonna blow up real quick. His traction on his boots was nearly non-existent, barely able to stand upright let alone dodge New Yorkers that went in circles and circles. He eyed a kid laughing at him as he twirled and spun with such grace, it seemed like he'd been doing it for years. Gambit suddenly had the urge to see if he could tackle the kid and blow up his ice-skates blades, but he settled for sticking his tongue out at the kid as the kid laughed.

So what exactly was Gambit up to in all of this? He considered his actions striking at Mister Sinister's Achilles heal. With Fox gone, Zero wouldn't comply to anything Sinister ordered the man to do. Or so Remy hoped. He'd be too belligerent, or too disgruntled to actually carry out a mission in part to Fox missing. Granted, Remy also knew Zero was a trained professional. The entire time he had been shooting at Wolverine back in the day, he was shooting and missing on purpose, which only signaled Agent Zero was a trained combatant and knew how to use firearms. Remy was hoping Zero's emotions could get the best of him, leaving him unable to actually do whatever Essex ordered.

But what part did Fox have in all of this?

Mister Sinister had a habit of manipulating weak minded people; Gambit being one himself in the very beginning. Remy didn't want Silver Fox around where she could easily be corrupted by Essex as well. It was better this way, far away from wherever Sinister's lab was. Remy looked down at the device, contemplating in blowing it up, but he slipped it into his pocket and kept it whole. He might need a way out, and hopefully, Mister Sinister couldn't manipulate the thing from wherever he was at.

[~*Silver Fox*~]

((CMF: Silver Fox: SiniLab Mech Annex: Conflict of Interest))


Silver Fox felt quite ill. She hadn't liked being caught off guard by that device the first time, when Zero had grabbed her up in a rush and activated the device. Mind you, circumstances were not promising and she wasn't being cooperative, so Agent Zero hadn't had much of a choice. That didn't help her off-kilter feeling upon appearing in that weird place. But they had been alone and she had, amidst it all, found that the quiet and reserved agent was to be trusted. And a puzzle to figure out.

She hated puzzles.

What she hated more? Having so many things thrown in to keep her control away. Fox was adventurous and wild, but she liked to be in charge of her adventures, or at least a driving force. From that hot place with sand to the metal place to ...here, she had been firmly shoved in the passenger seat. The back seat.

The storage bunk [or 'trunk', for us modern folk].

She did not like being played with, lied to, or forced along for any rides. Silver Fox was not the same woman she had been before the Cosmic Cube fiasco, but she was the base. She was the core. The Silver Fox the world knew now had started with her and it was damn well time that it showed. The stubbornness, the icy temper, the wildchild 'do what I want, get what I want' attitude, the pride, the fierceness - all her, all core. While fighting nausea and dizziness, Fox reflected. Gambit had taken her suggestions moments after she decided to go with Zero's idea instead. He'd grabbed her in a flash, activated the device, and now they were in a new place. A strange place with buildings and people and..it was a frozen lake? Fox pondered the idiocy of having a frozen lake in the middle of this very not-natural place. And why were people on it? Wasn't this dangerous?

Of course..she had scampered about on frozen lakes before, much to her father's dismay. It had been thrilling. Perhaps it had caught on as something fun? Hm. But all of these people had strange shoes on. There was metal on the bottoms. Well, not everyone was adept at sliding on ice [that had been a fun experience with Logan, though he'd tell a different story]. She deduced that the metal was supposed to help. How? She didn't know. One would think that using the whole of your feet would be easier than thin metal. Whatever.

She had fallen. Or, to be more precise, Gambit had fallen and taken her with him. Oh, she would have fallen just the same without him, but she liked to think that her rear end wouldn't be so sore without his added weight forcing her down onto the cold ice. Gambit landed back first, but Fox was spared. Only her round rump was subject to the wet chill of the ice. She was aware of some laughter and was not thrilled. She had her pride.

And Gambit had yet to release her.

“Don’t move too fast,” -- “gonna break my skull in.”

"I should be so lucky," the now-grumpy woman muttered. Her defense when feeling an oncoming panic-attack? A very unhappy mood. She was fully prepared to lay the blame at Gambit's feet. The surroundings were too weird - this was effectively a time jump for Fox - and there were too many people around to witness her freaking out. It was like the ball again, a new world that she was only slightly ready for. But she had asked for it that time and Logan had been there and it had been fine! /This/? /This/ was //not// fine.

Gambit was cold and irritated.

Silver Fox was getting moody. Moody enough that her temper could potentially trump the panic and fear and confusion.

“We need t’get outta here before we get run over.” He was up and pulling her...nowhere. Because there was no where to go with all these people crowding them in. Fox, her dark mood rising, yanked her hand away. It wasn't exceedingly difficult, with her enhanced strength and all. The Native American beauty wobbled some, but regained her balance with the ease of someone used to skating on frozen lakes without metal on the bottom of her shoes. Surprisingly, she found the boots she had on not at all troublesome. Then again, she'd learned to walk in heels before. These boots weren't as much of an issue now that the initial unfamiliarity was behind her. The cloak she still had on blocked the chill, but the fact was that Fox had little in the way of cold-appropriate clothing on. She'd been dressed for desert weather.

She wouldn't get sick though, healing factor and all. And she wasn't all that cold either, Canadian winters and all.

Still not a happy camper though. Fox folded her arms and the forming scene looked like a pissed off woman about to give the guy she was with a very hard time. The misfortune with the ice wasn't all that kid was laughing at. Silver-blue orbs flashed and Fox kept up her 'not happy' stance. "Where have you taken me and /why/ are we here?" If she could stay focused on how very nonplussed she was, Fox could ignore just how close she was to having a minor, and hopefully brief, freak out. This was not okay.

The woman took a breath. Adventure; she just had to think of this as an adventure. It'd be like relearning the world of white men all over again. ..or the /whole/ world all over again. But if this was going to be an adventure, she would have to take charge. She didn't know what kind of monster she had become and it had occurred to her that Gambit didn't /really/ know just how problematic her head problems had become. He was familiar with who she had been..before the incident. Hopefully she had been someone he wasn't all too interested in seriously pissing off without good reason.

"You did it all on purpose," she stated dryly. "You used that thing without something bad happening, so why did I have to come along?" Fox had, if you'll recall, made the offer because Gambit had expressed concern - false concern she belatedly thought - over blowing up all he'd touch. Evidently, that wasn't as much of a problem as initially thought. With that in mind, Gambit had no reason - in her head - to drag her out here. "This..this was to make that man - Zero - angry wasn't it?" The idea of being someone's tool against another obviously ticked her off and her eyes flashed in a way reminiscent of her former dark and icy self.

Fox couldn't make a 'scene', not here. Or she wouldn't, rather. However the 'this was not a good move' look on her face said that, memory or not, fish out of water or not, she was willing to make Gambit a lot more miserable than he already was if he didn't start talking. Eyebrow arched and a familiar chill in her eyes, Fox cocked her head. She would have thought it was something to do with that card, but Gambit had said he was trading his time with her for her time with Logan. She had refused..but it was unknown whether or not he cared that she had refused. If that was what this was about...Fox would make good on her threat from before. Be mad, be mad, be mad, be mad.. Because that way..she wouldn't be afraid. If she didn't hold onto that..she wouldn't have anything to hold on to and the fear and confusion and uncertainty would surely take over.

She didn't want to break down here, in front of strangers, in front of anyone that she didn't trust and treasure. In front of anyone that wasn't..Logan. Be mad, be mad, be mad, be /mad/. Emotional substitution was a beautiful thing.

"..."

[Talon-X]

{Not exactly sure if I’m playing this “It’s A Wonderful Life” design right. If it’s meant to come off differently let me know }

This felt very wrong. But for the life of it she could not figure why. So she just allowed herself to continue moving to the flow of the other skaters around her. Gliding around the frozen ice without a care in the world. All her troubles had been washed away. And being a girl who had been bred into a troubled life meant there was not much to her other than this skating rink. Sure she recalled people and places from her past but all of the emotions she held to each that were based on some sort of torment no longer plagued her heart. Still the feral genetics inside of her still existed. Pushing her urge to escape the normal pace many of those around her were bond to. With a mischievous grin she pushed forward on her skates ducking under the held hands of a couple skating in front of her. With perfect grace she could glide around each person without slowing her momentum or even touching those she passed. Laura even managed to do a few playful tricks as she strode along. Riding on one leg well the other was extended long behind her in the air, jumping into the air with a spin while landing on her skates perfectly with flawless accuracy. Each trick she landed only made her smile grow wider. Even managed for a few faint chuckles to fall from her lips here and there. Most might find this child to be a joyous vision to watch, while those who actually shared her company before would just be in udder shock. Still there was one person who was probably looking down upon the peaceful girl and truly felt at rest to see such joy. All her mother ever wanted was for her project, which later became her own daughter, was to experience happiness outside of what the Weapon-X project planned for her. And while this was all down by some unknown manipulation, it was still a sight to behold.

This was what the people who made her wished to avoid. She was never meant to be a normal girl, only a weapon for them to use at their discretion. To them she wasn’t human but a machine crafted to do their bidding void of all emotions. Reasons being emotions caused humans to be distracted. Case in point, lost in the fun she was having caused her to be a bit distracted as she crashed into another skater that tried to pass in front of her accidentally. The two of them crashed to the ground sliding a bit from the impact. Lucky for them no one else was caught up in the pile up they could’ve easily caused. The man she slammed into, a trained boxer, stood at five inches over six feet of solid muscle build and one nasty temper. Of course it would not even compare to the type of wrath or pain that young Laura was capable of. The ordeal would have most likely ended in bloodshed and broken bones in any other arena. Yet here under this calming fog neither one of them felt any need to cause the other the slightest bit of harm. The trauma of their lives had no relevance here so nether carried around the same anger towards others they held on a daily basis. “Sorry about that.” Came a very apologetic tone Laura used with all authenticity to her words. Waved off as being okay from the man, the two then went on to continue their fun. Yes something was truly wrong here. A small spark in the back of her head was telling her that but she continued to ignore it. Was it because this was something she truly wanted deep down? A life where the blood on her hands was finally washed away. To go through the day without thinking about the ghost of her pasts. Losing all urge to slice her flesh open just to relieve her inner pain. Someone might have been manipulating her but there was little resistance to the loss of control.

Something caused Laura’s skating frenzy to come to a slowing pace. The sound of a familiar voice had reached her ears through the crowd around her. Focusing her senses she tried to hone in on the voice while sniffing the air to confirm just who the identity of the person was. “Silver…Fox.” While her sorrowed memories were caught in a mental fog she could still see some pieces of her life clearer than the rest. The woman’s voice had scent brought a visual picture to the front of her mind. Bits and pieces of their interaction with one another played like a movie edited for TV. Showing all the good moments while removing all the bad that might be deemed inappropriate for children. Even with the pieces she could still feel as though the woman was important to her. Moving through the crowd to where she could sense Silver Fox was standing she caught sight of the woman. Hazel eyes feeling with glee as she moved closer to the target she caught in her sights. With her enhanced abilities she came to the woman’s side in a matter of seconds. Coming to a sliding stop sent some ice shavings in the direction her male companion. A man who held no place in her the memories she could still recall. “Fox.” She exclaimed with overwhelming joy, “Have you come to skate too? It’s quite fun.” Before the woman could even reply Laura leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the woman, “I’ve missed you so.” None of her actions seemed normal for the girl. Especially to someone who had seen her in action before. There seemed to be some tension between the two people, Fox and her friend. Laura could pick up on it, which would’ve usually caused her claws to come out in an effort to protect her friend. Not that the woman needed any protection from anyone. But she didn’t dwell on it. Only thing she was wondering about was why neither of them had any skates.

[XxGambit]

Gambit was still cold. And still wet. And still annoyed. Mixing a disgruntled feral woman and a moody crafty thief was not a good combination. There was bound to be explosions and growls and all types of cannibalistic fireworks. So who would ultimately win in a war between Fox and Gambit? Remy already knew the answer. It was going to be him, obviously. Fox had nothing on him, especially in her current state. If she decided to go feral on him, he’d just have to blow up whatever she threw at him. He might not have been able to blow up the cotton or wool or whatever parts of her clothes were made up of, but something, anything, she was wearing had to by synthetic. A mere touch and BOOM, crispy feral.

Gambit glanced toward Fox as she spoke with arms across her ample bosom. “I didn’t take you no where. I pushed a button on a device that took us to here. I didn’t choose where.” She had to get her linguistics straight if she wanted to argue. “Besides, you dumb? Look ‘round. We be at a skatin’ rink. You know, you… skate.” Duh? “As to why? You best be thankin’ me.” Gambit’s expression hardened as he crossed his own arms against chest. Two thick-headed people combined never ended up being a pretty sight. Fox spoke again, and Remy barely found the urge to listen. Hmph. It should have been obvious as to why, but women were naturally stupid. Look at Belle? Look at Rogue? Look at Silver Fox? All three were dense in the head when they wanted to be. Remy had a nasty, yet oddly playful, taste in women.

“Remy did do it on purpose,” he admitted, “and you came along cause you offered.” Duh again? And to make Zero angry? Remy laughed. A laughed that echoed with the other laughter in the rink. “You t’ink Remy did it to piss of Zero? Woman, you be stupider t’en a penguin travelin’ t’Africa!” He unleashed his arms, swinging them wildly to prove his point and to point at Fox. “T’at Mister Sinister preys on people like you. You don’t know nothin’. He get in side yo’r head and make that nothin’ somethin’. He manipulate you t’think one thing when it ain’t true. So be t’ankful Remy got you outta t’ere when I could. ‘Cause if I didn’t, you would be nothin’ ‘cept a slave. Just like yo’r damn Zero you seem t’love.” Honestly, what other intentions did Zero have? “ ‘Let’s go t’another room, Fox. Let’s go some place else in this big, dark, facility, Fox. I can keep you here forever, Fox. I’ll gain your trust, Fox, even though I’m aligned with my vampy.’ Girl, open yo’r eyes. He took you to Sinister. And now here be yo’r chance in gettin’ free. Run, shoo. Gambit never saw ya.” There, happy? Remy was actually trying to do the right thing, as usual, and he was getting yelled at, as usual. How predictable.

What wasn’t predictable was a raven haired girl running up to Fox. And the shavings blowing in Gambit’s direction. He held his arms up to cover his face, slipping on the ice yet again and trying to maintain his balance. He looked as if he was running in one spot, never moving, but his feet constantly looking as if he was slipping and sliding. He managed to find his balance, half hunched over with arms out like open wings. Glancing up in distaste, Remy recovered his pissed off demeanor and crossed his arms again. “Like momma like daughter. Pft.” He had no idea if the girl was Fox’s daughter, and he also knew Fox didn’t know if the girl was her daughter. Why not add more fire to the fuel to freak out the Canadian even more? It seemed like that was what he was good at.

Mumbling again, Remy’s eyes glanced around the rink, still trying to find a way out. What he saw in the process only caused him to curse out loud. “Shit, Gambit be leavin’.” He didn’t care who was in his way. He slipped toward the back of the rink, shoving other skaters before he managed to slip towards the wall. He couldn’t hide forever, but he used the wall to pull himself toward the entrance, going into a circle before he found solid non-slippery ground to step on. He ran outside of the rink area, trying to look casual in the process. Throwing a look over his shoulder, he left Fox with her girlfriend, and knew sparks were bound to fly.

Get two pissed off ferals in a room and blood was bound to show up. Get three, and there was going to be war, especially when one had black peaked hair.

TBC: Gambit - TBA

[~*Silver Fox*~]

“I didn’t take you no where. I pushed a button on a device that took us to here. I didn’t choose where.”

"That..doesn't really change anything," she told him dryly.

“Besides, you dumb? Look ‘round. We be at a skatin’ rink. You know, you… skate.”

Also unhelpful since Fox's era didn't have skating rinks and the actual verb 'skate' had been unknown to her. She supposed he meant for her to slide about on this ice like everyone else. Despite her understandable ignorance, Fox was unappreciative of the slight to her intelligence. It reminded her horribly of white settlers assuming her people to be stupid because they knew nothing of their world and made up things.

“As to why? You best be thankin’ me.” Fox's expression suggested that she was thinking of doing no such thing. He admitted to grabbing her on purpose, twisting her offer to his advantage. She'd indirectly retracted said offer when indicating that she'd rather go along with Zero's suggestion. “You t’ink Remy did it to piss of Zero? Woman, you be stupider t’en a penguin travelin’ t’Africa!”

Penguin? And again this slighting of her intelligence! All talk of Sinister went over her head; all she understood was that Gambit found him dangerous, manipulative, and untrustworthy. So why had the three been there at all? Or Gambit, at least, since he seemed to not like the head resident..vampy there?

"Girl, open yo’r eyes. He took you to Sinister. And now here be yo’r chance in gettin’ free. Run, shoo. Gambit never saw ya.”

"If he is so terrible..why were you there?" And if he was some poor prisoner escaping, why stop and talk to the 'slaves'. Fox still didn't seem entirely grateful for her 'freedom and liberation'. The woman was highly annoyed at being torn from the only one who seemed to know anything about her personally, 'slave' or not. Wouldn't Gambit be amused to know that it was /Silver Fox/ who was the cause of their employment by Mister Sinister. Nord would, no doubt, have been pleased to be as far away from Sinister and anyone like him as possible. However, Fox had weighed her options and stayed. Nord, caring for Fox and what was left of her sanity, stayed as well. Of course, this Fox couldn't retort with such information..she didn't know.

Someone came up suddenly, startling Fox and amusing her at the same time. The girl, whoever she was, had those weird metal-bottomed shoes on. When she had stopped, ice..stuff [shavings] sprayed all over Gambit. She wondered if he wouldn't become ill.. Worry, a reflex since this was a nicer, gentler Fox, crept up, but she squashed it easily. Slave, stupid - he could fend for himself then.

“Fox.”

Blink. Pause. This girl knew her too? She seemed so happy, this young girl...and smelled of Logan? Not like - I slept with him or was around him a lot - smelled of Logan. More like..?? That was impossible! ..It had been decades..there was no reason that Logan couldn't have kids.. It just meant that he didn't have them..with her. Or had they and she didn't remember? The woman was struck by how horrifying that was. She could..could have children running around somewhere and, without any memories of these past decades, she'd never know. The Native American feral felt slightly ill.

“Have you come to skate too? It’s quite fun.” She was enveloped in a hug before she could ever reply. Friends indeed. Fox wouldn't know that this was more than odd behavior, she didn't remember. Welcome to the club. Unsure of what else to do for the friendly girl, Fox hugged her back. “I’ve missed you so.” Missed? Had she left this girl behind somewhere. Technically, yes..she had. The 'infirmary'-lab of the Weapon X base...if only memory could serve. None of this was uttered though, she didn't know the girl. Her name, where they'd become acquainted, how long it had been, whether this was odd or not - nothing.

“Like momma like daughter. Pft.”

Fox paled and, in her distraction, missed Gambit's exit. And so, her only other acquaintance in this world left her behind with a new possible acquaintance. Two females suffering head issues. Different reasons, different extents, but it changed nothing of the results. It left Silver Fox and Talon [formerly X-23, but Fox wouldn't know that either...] hugging in a familiar fashion on the ice. Talon was enjoying Fox's appearance, happy to see a familiar face..of sorts. Fox was wondering if there was something to Gambit's last comment or if he was trying to make her miserable. She knew him to be gone now, a thief in..broad daylight. She didn't think the girl smelled of her, but...she'd never..smelled herself before. It was a strange thought.

Confused, Fox could only offer a friendly, okay-let's-roll-with-this smile. Who is this girl? Would it be okay to tell the girl that she didn't remember? Taking a chance, Fox spoke. "I..I am sorry. I suffered an accident," or something like that, "in a desert." She wouldn't know to call it Egypt. "I..cannot seem to remember anything from.." decades "..quite some time back." Heavy swallow. "Are..we related?" The girl didn't look /much/ like her, but that meant little other than she may have gotten feminized features of her father's and her..hair color? Personality? She could be wrong. The girl might not be hers at all, which still left Logan's contribution - assuming that she wasn't wrong about that too.

What did she know anyway? Maybe she was completely wrong and this girl had nothing to do with either of them, besides being fond of Fox in a friendly way. She could be worrying herself sick for no apparent reason. Oh..she /really/ wanted Zero here right now. Silver Fox had no time to ponder over the speed of her readily relying on the man. And she'd been so suspicious of him.. She'd have to apologize..if she ever saw him again..

"Or friends? Are we friends?" Why not go for an easier question. "What is your name? Tribe? No..that seemed to confuse everyone else around her more than herself. Maybe there were no tribes anymore.. Maybe all she had known was..truly gone.

[Rd Dark Cyclops]

[[C:F: The Sinister Legacy]]

”I don’t like this. Our target could’ve easily disguised his signal. He wanted us to find him.”

”Growing chicken wings, O fearless leader?”

Scott liked control. He needed order and mastery over his own destiny and random memories of a life he’d left behind were most certainly not a part of the plan. In a way, it was almost a moment of déjà vu as he roared along the streets of New York City on his freshly purloined motorbike as his mind tripped off to the last time he sought out his father.

The bike he’d left behind was different of course – this one was positively archaic in comparison despite only being a year or two old – and he had a wingman along for the journey. Back then, of course, he merely dismissed Alex’s defiance and attitude to his command to acting out and sibling rivalry but the two had a task to do and after first Emplate and the Monets and then the Beaubier twins fell to the flatscan escapee it was up to Sinister’s two best men to chase him down.

Tracking him down to the Ghost Lands was almost child’s play, but the hardest part was to come as the fateful reunion between the newly free Christopher Summers and the two sons he’d left behind was destined to be the last as they found out Sinister’s ‘true’ motives for keeping his return from outer space from them. He was the proud owner of the embryo of a Brood Queen and without the Dark Beast’s cruel tortures keeping her at bay, her arrival came all too soon. Scott Summers was forced to kill his father, and Alex would never forgive him.

It was a slippery slope for the Brothers from there as the gulf only widened with Scott’s further meteoric rises up the chain of command in Apocalypse’s forces, before the festering jealousy saw Alex took advantage of the one moment Scott’s unerring devotion to the cause faltered and leave him and Jean Grey for dead, dooming their world at the same time. So how did it come to this?

His body still ached, but the worst of the pain he felt from the lashes and wounds the body he’d inherited had suffered he’d pushed off to the back of his mind. Parcelled away, like he’d been taught, he had to focus on the task in hand instead. Inside the stolen leathers he now wore, he could feel the drying blood stick against the lining as he shifted his weight atop the Harley that now took him through Rockefeller Centre.

”Put a sock in it, Alex. It’s showtime.”

[Mystic Frost]

[CF: Little Italy: "Cup of Tea"]

"Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do," Wade strode down the street leading up to the back of Rockefeller Center. The teleporter had a mind of its own when it needed to and he didn't have the slightest idea why he was there. Didn't matter, either, he didn't have any job offers on the table. Stick up the ass Tasky had made sure the pretty Lady wasn't going to be giving him one, either, for some time. Oh, well. He'd find something else to do, or someone else to torment. Hopefully someone with a sense of humor.

"There she was just a walkin' down the street singin', Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do," snapping his fingers as he sauntered side to side, the red and black dressed Merc exaggerated his lean as he passed by a rather attractive woman just a walkin' down the street.

"Snappin' her fingers and a shufflin her feet singin', Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do," leaning to the other side Wade bobbed his eyebrows toward another pretty thing walking in the opposite direction. Public places were such great inventions. You could invent a public place right? Someone patent that yet?

Nearing the edge of the large square resting under the arms of a giant, Deadpool broke into song as he swung back and forth, dancing about a few more pretty things--and at least one, ah, not quite so pretty thing--"She looked good, looked good; She looked fine, looked fine. She looked good she looked fine, and I nearly lost my mind."

He wrapped an arm about one's waist and slid on up close singin', "Before I knew it she was walkin' next to me singin', Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do," the two of them looking into each others' eyes for a moment that could last forever. Probably should have brought a Kodak too.

She was calm. She was beautiful. "Holdin' my hand just as natural as can be singin'--" She was taken. Wade ducked under a man's arm come swinging his way. "Do WAH," another blow dodged, "diddy," hey fancy upper cut, "diddy DUM," okay that was a lame jab, "diddy do." One well placed strike to the back of the man's neck as he swung about his dancing partner sent the protective male down for the count and left Wade to saunter off before another scene built.

That's when he stopped at the guard rail up high looking down at the skating ring below. Wade didn't find anything useful or interesting about the place at first. Craning his neck out, over, and below the rail he looked for something or someone to keep him company on long, lonely nights. One night? An hour? Could he at least borrow their likeness for a fantasy? You couldn't imagine the types of fantasies Wade had.

A cloistered backroom somewhere undisclosed, dreary lighting, a small wood table. Various guns broken apart scattered over the wooden top. Cleaning equipment. After-market add-ons--or what he liked to call his Cool Man Stuff. Deadpool holding one particular beauty up for inspection and a soft sigh of contentment slipping through his mask...

A rough exhale escaped him before he realized he'd returned to reality. Well, he'd found his way from Flashbacks back to New York City--which was quite the feat considering he didn't have a GPS device.

Then, there, out on the ice... a creature of such magnificence it could only be, "Bea Arthur." He blinked, shook his head, and looked at the two women standing there again. "That isn't Bea Arthur," he snorted, disappointed that she'd eluded him once more. She was a sly fox that one.

Was that...? That was a Fox! Silver Fox. Why'd they call her Silver Fox anyway? Had anyone ever bothered to ask her that? She was Fox--oh ho ho--but Silver? Why not... Gold? Platinuum? Titanium? Hell she was a feral let's go with ADAMANTIUM, RAWR.

Wade stuck his nose up into the air and did a sniff test. Was that a precursor? Did he... smell the pungent aroma of a man that never showered? Who did anyway? Wade made a mental note to shower, and to take his painstakingly slowest time so that all readers, everywhere, could marvel in the subtle beauties, joys, and hygiene of the act. He WOULD be the CLEANEST man on the board!

Right, so where was Mister Stinky? Wade looked around again for squat Gramps.

[Atomic Force]

(( If me posting before Logan messes anything up, lemme know and I'll delete it. ))

Jean was very susceptible to temperature extremes. In general, she seemed to be very sensitive to colder weather. Unless it was the dead of summer, she rarely went out in shorts, and even around the mansion pajama pants of some fashion were more common than shorts of a similar caliber. She figured that this trip would be no exception. So, she had clad herself in a pair of snug-fitting denim jeans, ending in a pair of boot-like shoes of a coffee color that were only serving the purpose of getting her from point A to point B seeing as how skates would be the new acceptable attire once she got onto the ice. She had gone back and forth on what kind of shirt to wear. She knew that once they started skating, her body would naturally heat up. So, she opted against anything that was too heavy. She selected a 3/4 length sleeve on a shirt that was somewhat flowy in design and a hunter green. It synched her waist delicately and had a high enough collar to brush the undersides of her collar bones. However the center 3-4 inches of the collar laced up. She left it unlaced, though Jean was still practical by nature and it didn't dip down so far as to give a glimpse of cleavage rather than a demure hint. She had spent perhaps the very least amount of time on her hair. The thick ruby strands were set free to flow around her face and down her back. She had several layers that brushed her cheeks with a sparse coating of bangs tickling along her brow. These were brushed hap-hazardly to the side. Her hair held a natural curl anyway, and so she had to do very little to get the saucy waves that she now sported.

Parking her car (well, it wasn't exactly -her- car), an older body mustang...white with red strips along the center, she slid out of the leather seat, planting her booted feet firmly on the little parking lot. Her eyes danced over the scene before her. Sure enough, the rink was open and crowded with children and adults alike. She took a brief moment to bask in the sense of community and good will such a small place could give off before making her way to the shoe rental counter. She already knew he wasn't here, without really opening her mind and probing around. Perks of being connected to someone's mind. This didn't throw off her momentum any as there could have been any number of reasons why he didn't get here before she did. Although she had thought that he might beat her here. Silently, she wished that he would have waited a few minutes for her finish up with Carol before leaving, that way they could have just arrived together. Selfishly, she hadn't even seen if anyone else wanted to come along. Feeling a breath of guilt, she pushed it away before approaching the rental counter. Sending a little bounce into her step, the dazzling smile she proposed onto the kid behind the counter made him pause for a second in what he was doing. Shaking the stupid off of himself, he returned the smile, a blush coming to his cheeks.

"Size 7?" Slipping her delicate fingers into her back pocket she extracted the amount necessary to pay for the skate rental. Idly, she let her thoughts drift to Logan in a pair of these babies. The image of The Wolverine skating around brought a near bubble of a laugh to her lips, though she was able to suppress it. She managed to shove the image away, and replace it with a slightly more masculine one. Ice hockey. She could definitely see him knocking some guy's teeth out in pursuit of a tiny hockey puck. The boy took her money, and she took the skates, making her way over to a bench to lace them up. The redhead kept herself mentally open to those around her. She heard children babbling, their minds filled with the excitement of not falling down, she heard a man seeking another, a woman surprised upon finding another, all in the span of a few seconds. None of it was nefarious enough to slow the woman from taking her shoes off and setting them aside while she slowly and deliberately laced up her ice skates.

Once that was completed, she sat up a bit straighter and just watched the scene unfold before her. The chill that came from the rink had started to seep into her skin, as she was only located at a bench a few feet away. Resisting the urge to rub friction into her skin as a form of making herself feel better, she pondered tying her hair back, dismissed the thought, then idly moved her significantly heavily feet this way and that while she waited.

[XxWolverine]

OOC: Technically Wolverine's already there per the Gambit post, but I managed to give a reason why Jean didn't sense him if that works for you, Carol.

Wolverine would be honest when he wanted to be. He didn’t know how to ice skate. Sure he was from Canada. Sure hockey was a big thing. But when did someone like Wolverine have the time to figure out how to ice skate when he was too busy killing people, mind-wiped, experimented upon, and then ripped to pieces by various villains? Mr. Do-It-All could do a lot, or else Logan liked to think of himself that he could, but ice-skating… Meh. It’d be a new thing for him—a great experience to finally learn, officially. He figured he could do it, but not very well. Maybe in the process he would actually smile! Maybe he’d jump for joy! And when all of that happened, maybe he could tip-toe around daisies and frolic with butterflies! Oh Em Gee! Notice the sarcasm? Logan truly wasn’t looking forward to ice skating. He thought of it as… something girly. Something Jean would like. That was the only reason he was here.

Logan closed the door in some random car he chose to drive to the rink. He grimaced at all the people, already imagining the overwhelming scent of body odor, pheromones, expired antiperspirant, and overpowering cologne. Heaving a sigh, he went to the counter to “check out” skates, answering all the brief questions before he was given his wares in exchange for cash. There was a very likely chance if Logan knew who was sponsoring the off-season skating rink to be open; he would have left in a heartbeat. He had already popped up on Kelly’s senate speech alongside Psylocke and Snowbird during the entire “anti-mutant” debate. The last thing he wanted was to be showing his support to a man who wanted his death by skating on the same rink that same man was sponsoring. Maybe he should just turn back. He was already getting agitated enough, and he had yet to put on his skates. The thought was tempting, but… double meh.

Wolverine slipped on the skates, ignoring the rush of the earsplitting sound of blades skidding on ice. He instead focused on the jovial laughter that overwhelmed the area. Laughs, giggles, the cries of surprise, and even the few wails of pain. Listening to others being happy lifted his spirits, somewhat. If he even knew what he was getting himself into…

First thing was first. He had to figure out if he could even skate before he made an ass of himself in front of Jean. The people on the rink were going in a sickening spiral. Knowing some of them were going just a bit too fast for his beginner tactics, he stepped on the ice with his blades, sticking close to the wall as he found his balance on the thin metal blades. He decided if he wasn’t trained in agility, he wouldn’t even stand a hell of a chance. He moved one step after the other, watching the feet of others that skated around him. He managed to gain the motion—one swift step of the other. One swoosh, one push, one second glide, and switch to the next foot, bent knees and all. Easy enough.

Logan circled with the rest, casually losing his balance here and there before stepping back and regaining his composure. Concentrating on the act of actually moving, he barely missed the one thing that should have alerted him that something was off. Silver Fox. He wasn’t even sure what registered the name to pop in his head. Did someone look like her? Did he hear her voice? Did he unconsciously register the smell of her scent? Whatever it was, Logan skidded to a halt, peering through the crowd while sniffing. It was the scent. A girl’s perfume that he followed was hiding Fox’s smell, but he managed to tag the scent, following it closer to the middle of the ice before he spied the woman… with… that girl. The one that insisted she had to kill him.

Damn it all to hell, Logan thought. Oh, no, he couldn’t actually just go and skate. He had to stumble upon mini-killer and an ex-lover. Wonderful timing. Swallowing back a bitter taste, he skidded over to the pair, eyeing Fox and cautiously watching X-23. Was it sad to think maybe X-23 perished in the Weapon X explosion? “You lived,” he said to the younger girl, making sure to add in his sense of disappointment. Last time he recalled seeing her, he speared her through her abdomen when she (according to Logan’s interpretation) lunged at him. He was expecting a scene, but maybe he could to something to… diffuse the situation. X-23 was wearing skates. Obviously she was here to skate, right?

“And you’re here.” Logan was good at stating the obvious. He patted his waist, realizing he wasn’t carrying Fox’s gun with him. Panic hazard, after all, at a very public skating rink. Logan did notice a difference to Fox. She had lost her edge, the cold and haunting figure he had last seen diminished into the one he… remembered. “What happened? If Sinister did anything…” He hid a growl. That was the only explanation he had. Nothing Wolverine said in the past obviously infiltrated in her head. He was lucky enough to get her to actually see the cabin when he knew she still didn’t believe him. Sinister and his little experiments. Who knew what he had that could actually go into Fox’s head.

A familiar tickle pricked inside his head and gently passed. Disturbed, he glanced around, noticing Jean’s presence, but his sudden rush of adrenaline had triggered his mind to suddenly shield itself. With so many people around (and judging from the quick scan), he would be easy to miss.

Flamin’ awful timing. Fantastic.

[Talon-X]

It was quite uncanny how much luck the Cajun charmer really had. On any other date and time his harsh words towards Fox in Laura’s presence would’ve left him finding it hard to speak without any vocal cords. Today his scolding went unnoticed to the young feral as she was most concerned with the reunion between Fox and herself. Back in their days at Weapon-X Laura looked up to Silver Fox like an older sister. Admiring the strength she had even when bound down by her captives gave Laura something to aspire for. To stand strong even when being beat down, in a figure of speaking. But like most positive influences in her life fate would separate them and send Laura back into the world to survive on her own. It was a pattern she had become so accustom to that any hope of seeing Silver Fox again had been washed away into the waters of her escape. ‘Fate’ still had a few more FUs to send her way as neither females were themselves today. One missing all the troubles that turned her into a child fueled by rage and bloodshed, while the other was missing all memories from recent time. Hearing Fox had been injured and was unaware of who Laura was saddened her for about a few seconds before the effects of the rink took effect. Shrugging it off she just smiled and shook her head, “No. We’re not related. We were…” Her lips were parted to speak the name of Weapon-X, but so much of her pain and suffering had been caused by that name that anything attached to it was completely clouded in her mental fog. “…friends awhile back.” There was some frustration felt at not knowing where they met one another…or why she couldn’t remember.

“You were found in a…desert?” A flash of a desert instantly struck her mind but it was quickly overtaken by the fog again. A small ping of pain in the back of her head feeling like a very small headache growing larger. She touched her forehead and dropped her gaze for a moment before coming back up to meet eyes with Fox. Her face wasn’t happy and jovial as before. Confusion was attached into her features that depend with each question that had been asked of her. “I’m…” X-23….Talon…once again she was met with names that she should be able to recall but was finding it hard to. Both coated in much blood. Laura had always felt like the more foreign name to her but it was the only one she could speak that no ill memory had been attach to. A name given by her mother. “…Laura. Laura Kinney.” Though her answers came out with only a hint of hesitation, there was a bigger mental struggle emerging in her mind. A struggle to pierce the fog she had been placed in to find the truth. Standing at Fox’s side, Laura tried to help her friend balance herself against the ice they stood on. Looking in the direction the smell of the Cajun had blown she finally noticed the man no longer standing beside them. “Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt you and your friend’s talk?” If Fox had lost her memory then it wouldn’t be wise to leave her alone. Since the red eyed man was no longer around Laura felt the need to stay at her friend’s side should find herself in trouble. First things first, they needed to get off of the ice. “I think we should get you to the sidelines. I’m sure they have a pair of skates for you too.” As soon as she turned to lead Fox safely to the outside of the rink she froze in place and took a few sniffs of the air before one longer one. Two familiar scents had stopped her in mid-stride and neither held any good memories attached to them.

One scent was actually a mixture of both. Scent of a redhead…a female…that had been awfully close to the other scent…a male who smelled more like an animal. An image of the woman’s face appeared in her mind where she stood in the same desert she saw when Silver Fox mentioned one. Wait…Silver Fox was there too…with the redheaded woman. Her own mind fighting to see through the fog while it continued to get thicker and thicker around her memories. Letting go of her hold on Silver Fox she did not move too far away as the mental battle raged on. It was the second scent drawing closer to her that hit the hardest of all. His face burned into her mind as well as being the origin of a large portion of her pain. “Logan…” She whispered in a growl before appeared from the crowd, able to pull the name through the fog. Head pounding as the mental war became more real.

“You lived.”

Like a mental trigger her eyes turned a crimson red as the rage burned through the fog while she looked down towards the ground. A reply started as a growl in her throat before her mouth parted to speak, “No thanks to you.” Swimming in the mix of so many options she felt as if she was losing it. Like her mind would rip itself apart. An urge to kill this man…an urge to go to him for answers…an urge to cut her flesh to relieve the pain…what was happening to her? She wanted to forget her pain…but she needed to remember the truth. Needed to feel the rage, the pain, all the things that made her who she was. All the things that made her strong. Another growl was made a bit deeper than her first one from the pain that crippled her mind. “Make…it….stop…” She wished she could allow herself to be lost in the fog again. But standing here confronted with so many people that caused so many bad memories she was finding it harder and harder to forget.

[~*Silver Fox*~]

She'd been abandoned. It was something that had happened very quickly and Fox was trying very hard to keep calm. She wasn't the hysterical sort, but this had been a very, /very/ trying day. Fox was starting to think that maybe she was better off holing up somewhere until she could come up with a more solid game plan. Oh, coming up with things on the fly was a talent of hers, but it was very difficult to keep rolling with the punches when all the hits were meant to be K.O.s. Concentrating on not having a meltdown in front of this nice-looking girl here, Fox made a note to never ever leave Zero's side again. She didn't know what was between them, but she knew with a dead certainty that if he'd been here there would have been no argument and no leaving her in the middle of..of..

&%* Where /was/ this?

It was hard to say whether Gambit would have carried on the same way if he knew the extent of Fox's, erm, problem. Fox was willing to bet, at this point, that everything would have happened the same way except the strange-eyed man would have been just that much more satisfied in leaving her clueless ass stranded. All was not completely lost. She did not have the security of Zero's presence and calm, but she had this nice girl here.

“No. We’re not related. We were…” - “…friends awhile back.”

Oh? Well that was good news! Gambit had left, but now she had this new friend here. Assuming that her gifts were not failing her, Fox detected no deceit. Fox was still feeling stressed and a bit overwhelmed, but she felt much more adept at keeping a freak out at bay. She had to be a good model for her young friend right? If she had a nervous fit then she'd worry the girl and then they'd both have a problem because Fox couldn't explain her situation very well.

“You were found in a…desert?”

Silver Fox nodded. "Yes, a man named Agent Zero saved me. But then that man, Gambit, brought me here and now I am...lost." And really not too far from having a nervous breakdown so please, /please/ girl don't leave me here. Fox prayed that the girl wouldn't feel the urge to just go too. The image of a stranded and era-ignorant Silver Fox was not a pretty one. Nor was the probably aftermath. A panicked feral was all this place needed right now. Animal instincts, crowded area...not a good combination...

Fox wondered if the girl wasn't ill or had a pain in her head. She seemed to been in..pain? No..confused? Frustrated? ...she'd only asked for a name.. “I’m…” - “…Laura. Laura Kinney.”

"Well, good to see you again Laura Kinney." Previously, Fox's accent had long since faded, but now little hints of the Blackfoot tongue seeped into her speech. She was clear and understandable, but her English was also very simple. Like a very cautious foreigner's might be when testing out the language in fluent conversation.

“Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt you and your friend’s talk?”

Dry look. "I would not call it a 'talk'." Irritated and ticked off as she was, the Native American beauty /really/ wished that the thief hadn't left her here to her own devices. Irony. She was more stressed with him gone than she had been while he was here, testing her temper by insulting her.

“I think we should get you to the sidelines. I’m sure they have a pair of skates for you too.”

'Skates'. Those funny shoes with the metal on the bottom. Fox wondered if she wasn't better off without the odd items, but humored the girl as she lead the boot-clad woman off the ice. Silver Fox 'skated' well without shoes, but she'd stand out a little more than she'd want if she didn't cooperate and learn how to 'skate' with those things on. The girl, no, /Laura/, stopped short though and Fox only barely managed to stop herself instead gliding some more and dragging Laura with her. Fox was about to ask what was wrong when the scent hit her. Jean's scent meant nothing to the woman at the moment, the soft scent ringing no bells.

But the other scent..

Fox's legs nearly gave out. The one person she wasn't ready to see - Great Spirit, she never thought that she would ever have such a thought! - and he was here. Seriously. Did Gambit run off because of him? Had Gambit managed to contact and get the man here that quickly? Fox was a high flight risk right now, but her pride and personality kept her from actually running away. For now.

For now she focused on breathing evenly and not working herself into a frenzy. She remembered talking with Zero, remembered words of not being able to have her past back. Her life back. That all she knew was..no more or, if not that, not as it was. And she knew, just knew, that Logan had to be one of those things. Zero's body language and willingness to let her put off the reunion said that all things were not well here. Fox had wanted to wait until she could mentally prepare herself for the crippling, emotionally-fatal possibility of Logan no longer being within her reach. The possibility of him not loving her anymore..of him...moving on with another.

In her present mental/memory state, Fox couldn't fathom how anything short of death had torn them apart. I can't do this, she thought to herself. I'm not ready. Spirits..she'd /never/ be ready.

He appeared, handsome and gruff-looking as ever. His scent, his appearance, and her inability to recall anything beyond the golden era of their love. I can't do this; I'm not ready. Wasn't ready for him to say anything that would prove her worst fears and insecurities, Zero's veiled warnings, true. Spirits, she'd rather him kill her right now than that. Silver Fox was, shock and horror, doing an impressive imitation of a deer caught in headlights, when Laura's voice growled out a low and dark greeting.

“Logan…”

Anger. Loathing. Hatred. Where had her friend gone? This girl here wasn't Laura anymore, not the one she had been with..

“You lived.”

..and that was not the Logan she had left. Those two words and Fox was forced to confront the fact that while she had - from what had been gathered from Zero and Gambit - become a different person entirely...Logan must have changed too. What had decades done to her woodsman lover? A crack in her mind formed. I can't do this.

“No thanks to you.”

“And you’re here.”

She wouldn't know he was looking for a gun, her gun. She'd just as easily assume that he meant to shoot her or Laura if he /had/ pulled it out. Fox wasn't much for conversation right now anyway, too busy staring at Logan in shock, apprehension, and - she couldn't help it - love. Whatever had happened, she couldn't remember. Whoever they had become, both of them - she knew nothing of it. Of course, love was the first thing to pop up. Only it was slowly drowning in a sea of new knowledge, presented facts and inferences, theories, and very probably theories.

“What happened? If Sinister did anything…”

...? Fox's confused expression likely wouldn't help whatever theories were currently running in Logan's head. Speechless still, her mouth opened and closed, her stomach twisting. Go to him! some part of her cried. Another screamed that she exercise caution. If all she had known was gone or lost to her..he might find it strange. Might push her away. And can you really live with that? the second voice queried. Fox couldn't; it'd destroy her, she knew. So standing there in stunned silence, trying to slow her racing heart and accelerated pulse, was all she did.

Crack. I'm not ready.

But Laura beat her to the breakdown, diverting - thankfully - Fox's attention. “Make…it….stop…”

"Laura!"

Fox glided the very short distance to the girl and pulled her close to her, as if shielding Laura from something. "Do you hear my heart beating?" Fox forced it to slow down, lest the exercise be for naught. It evened out as Fox directed her attentions to the girl with the tightrope psyche. "Listen to it. Listen to /me/. Breathe with me." Previous experience? Not quite! These were nightmare-calming tactics. She'd used them on kids in her tribe, her father...and others. Laura seemed to be in some sort of distress that reminded Fox of how someone stuck in the remnants of a nightmare would. So she reacted accordingly. "Breathe. No one else is here; no one is going to hurt you. You said we are friends, correct? Friends protect each other - I will protect you."

Fox's eyes drifted up as she continued to try and help Laura, Spirits only knew if it was actually helping. Logan..

..and she couldn't breathe again. Silver Fox looked away, lest her heartrate pick up and she ruined her efforts here. Laura wouldn't calm down even slightly if her would-be comforter's heart was beating at such a speed. Ordinarily, this was about where Fox would encourage whoever she was helping to just go back to sleep. That wasn't an option here so the Native American came up with another split-second option.

"Come back to me little one.. Come back to me." Out of character for Fox? Not right now. Right now, Silver Fox was acting exactly as she would have, being the woman that she was in Canada. /This/ was Logan's Fox, back and restored...seriously wary, extremely lost, and oh so very confused.

Now then. Laura would either calm down...or skewer Silver Fox. Stranger things have happened today.

[Rd Dark Cyclops]

The handling was heavy and sluggish, when compared to what he was used to back ‘home’, but the borrowed bike was still well under his control as he leaned his way around the corners, weaving his way through the Rockefeller Centre. His meandering path just lacked direction, as he had no leads to go on – he was a stranger in a strange land after all – but the fleeting flash of red locks he caught from the driver’s seat travelling past him was enough to cause him to change direction and follow. For just that moment he thought ‘Was it’? It was a chance in a million, but he had nowhere else to be…

Pulling off into an alleyway, he was able to swing the bike a full 180 degrees, before pulling back out into the opposite lane. He was ten cars behind, if not more, but swerving through the couple in front of him allowed Scott to spot the redheads car as she pulled into the parking lot and he duly followed. The parking lot made it much easier to follow her, as the traffic thinned down to virtually just the two of them, and as Jean Grey stepped out and closed the door, she would barely have noticed the man with the blackened visor ride slowly past her.

It was her – Jean Grey. She’d haunted his dreams long before he’d even met her, and whilst she’d been a prisoner under his jurisdiction, the first romantic notions began to appeal to him. She looked different now, of course, with a full head of long tumbling locks replacing, the short efficient look he had known her to wear, and now lacking the red warpaint tattoo from over her eye. There was no question it was her, and if she survived here, then what of the others, such as Alex.

He parked the bike a safe distance away and began to follow her. Of course, he knew she was a telepath, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t been trained for that. He’d tracked down all mutants of all powers as he followed hid duties to the letter, and the problem with telepaths was they always knew when you were coming, plus he had to work all day with the presence of the brain trust monitoring the neural output of the pens. Of course, all the Mutant Elite Force had been implanted with blockers for this, but Sinister had also taught him a few ways you could avoid detection and keep yourself a little more too yourself. Pushing Jean Grey from the periphery of his mindscape, he continued on at a safe distance.

Of course, to look at, he stuck out as an odd figure; clad head to foot in black and with the tinted visor of the helmet concealing his damaged eye and face. His scent should have been disguised away as well, thanks to the borrowed clothing where some fifteen years and change of blood and sweat from the original owner should have been comfortably masking Scott’s own aroma.

[Mystic Frost]

Wade hummed to himself, bored, aimless while waiting his cue. So, leaning over the railing, the Merc spied with his little eye something that started with... hat! "Yoink." Like fishing for hats in a barrel. No, really, it was. Man never saw it coming. Felt it going, but never saw it coming.

Straightening up, giving the ol' brown brim a tug, Wade looked at a nearby voyeur with a grin behind his charming mask. "Well?"

A disgruntled, wary look was all he got before the man stood and strode away. "Bet you're a riot at parties," Wade grunted, finding this place just full of dead weight and wet blankets. The type that hid under their beds and went crying to mommy because the world was too scary.

Rolling his attention back toward the rink, he lifted the accessory from his head and dropped it back down into the extended arms of its owner that'd been shouting and hooting about someone stealing his precious article of clothing. It only took a second before Wade leaned back over to confront the man face to face, "Next time get that thing cleaned before I steal it." Or stop using so much damn gel. He could feel it oozing through his hood and into his scalp. It wasn't toxic was it?

Then, at last, his SAVIOR had arrived. Wade jumped up straight and waved his arms all up and down, side to side, trying to get short, gruff, and smelly to notice him up high.

"For a man that can spot a sniper a mile away in a jungle you're ridiculously BLIND when you want to be, Logan," Wade snapped before giving his arms a rest and crossing them over his chest. Throw two pretty female ferals at him and... whoa, wait a minute. Rewind... Rewind... Two gorgeous, young-- "DAMN YOU."

He leaped over the rail in a single bound, bolted passed befuddled and clueless visitors faster than a large, tubby man for ice cream, and foraged the exotic jungles of civilization to do nothing less than GET. TO. THE. RINK. Naturally this involved bull rushing several people, an elbow to the face, and spilling no less than four beverages in someone's lap while deftly "borrowing" a hotdog--which, by the way, had vanished before the next paragraph.

Why such a flurry of activity? Wade wouldn't dare let Logan suffer such TERRIBLE company alone. Oh, no, he was too good of a FRIEND for that.

Oh. Oh, but then one of them had a mental breakdown. Deadpool could handle that. Why he was the foremost expert in the Sane. Another, sane soul being driven insane by all the sane people around her; Wade Wilson to the rescue! Pretty lady.

Hopping the rink barrier, the Red and Black Merc double timed it over the ice with gusto, arms pumping and feet in a flurry as he scurried over the slick surface. Here he came to save the da--

SHIT.

"Whoa~! OW," Wade cried as his feet went forward and his head went the other direction before his back hit the icy surface full contact. That, however, was only his patented beginning. Newton had once said to young Wilson, objects in motion stayed in motion... until they blew someone's head clean off their FUCKING SHOULDERS. At least, he thought it had been Newton.

The Merc with a Mouth cried with glee as he skidded across the ice a short distance straight at the huddle mass of man-wolf-cat. His prone figure came to a dead stop in the center of attention, right where he liked to be. A witty entrance, however, was cut off by the sudden realization of his particular placement. Wade's eyes drifted up and to the side... was he laying beneath two women? "Hello, Nurses."

[Atomic Force]

There came a time, when Jean stopped her piddling around and actually thought about it. Logan really should have been there by now, and she was being a fool if she didn't make sure that everything was alright. She had her cell with her. And while she loved the technology, she employed the use of her mutant powers even more. Eyes fluttering closed for a bit, she stretched out her awareness, searching specifically for Logan. Of course, due to his close proximity and the concentration of her powers, it didn't take her long at all to find him. Her eyes snapped open in the direction of his mental signature, and she wrinkled her nose at the fact that he must have in some way shielded from her, that she didn't sense he was close when he had arrived. Or maybe, he had been there all along and she just didn't think he would start without her. For a moment, she waited, because the scene that was panning out before her was not really making much sense. Suddenly, as though someone had slid a sharp needle into her fully inflated balloon, all of the good feelings she had previously been feeling started escaping.

She had picked up in the brief scan of Logan's mind upon the initial search, he was on ...alert, so to speak. His mind projected the feeling that she thought about when a cat was all fluffed up. There was a woman, possessing dark wiles and a smaller girl with her. The older woman looked familiar, but it would take her a moment of sifting through her memory banks for the connection. Without much hesitation, she pushed her awareness outward, testing their general signatures without really probing. Just then, the girl went into some sort of distress. Her mind screamed outwards in...anger? Jean rose to her feet so quickly she wasn't even really aware that she had moved. Jeweled hued eyes staying locked on the trio, she started to move forward, approaching the ice with little hesitation. Entering the rink, she pushed herself off of the entrance and over to the side. On the ice, Jean was a dream. She looked very much like she was floating, the natural motion that her feet made lending very little to the opinion that she felt awkward. In all reality, she was cheating. Very much like soaring her body through the air with the aid of her telekinesis, she was using her TK to keep her balance centered perfectly. Her skates were still on the ice, her feet still moved but she supported her body with her abilities. She just didn't want to take the chance that something would happen, bad and she would fall on her ass because she wasn't paying attention to the ice.

Logan had to know that she was here, and she tried to not let a frown crease her forehead. So, he hadn't called for any type of assistance...she stayed back by the wall, one hand bracing herself as though she was taking a break. She tried to keep her eyes light, and centering anywhere really instead of the trio. She was as well, doing what she could to divert the situation. Her mind was busy at work, touching on as many people as she could, if they seemed like they were noticing the trio too much, she was diverting their attention elsewhere. Basically making the trio as invisible as possible as the person would just find something else more interesting to look at whenever their eyes laid on any of the three ferals. At nearly the same time, another man came tripping over everyone, Logan's name having fallen from his lips. Good Lord, was this some sort of trick? Ha Ha Jean, let's go on a date. By the way, I need help with a few mentally unstable people. Ever so often, she would flicker her eyes to the group itself, still keeping her position poised as naturally as possible on the sidelines. She didn't mistake the ruffling of emotions coming from Fox. That was her name. The way she was giving Logan googly-eyes made her bristle briefly, but for now she would stay where she was. As if it wasn't obvious enough to him by now, she sent out a small tendril of thought that really had nothing to do with their link.

~I'm here, just give me the word.~

Still doing what she could for crowd control, it seemed that it was working. Most of the people didn't even act like they had any real clue what was going on. Even the ones that had approached the fully wiped-out male avoided him with the thought that he was just clumsy on the ice and not acting like a raving lunatic. Fairly preoccupied, she didn't take any more notice to outside forces that might be paying attention.