Nate Henderson || Remy LeBeau (ragincajun) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2012-10-08 17:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | mason sullivan, nate henderson |
WHO: Nate Henderson and Mason Sullivan
WHERE: Times Square in NYC
WHEN: Early evening Monday
WHAT: Mason wants to know where his traitor is, and Nate's just trying to make a dishonest living. It leads to clashing, and property destruction. Sorry New York (only I'm not).
WARNINGS: Violence and language.
New York City, the bustling economic center of New York--and some would say America as a whole. It was constantly busy, a perpetual hive of activity as people moved about their days without so much as a passing glance to most of the people they passed. The concept of New York perplexed Nate for the most part. So many people walked the same streets, bumped into each other, spoke in each other's vicinity, and for the most part they all went out of their way to avoid eye contact with each other. He was sure he heard somewhere--probably bartending for some psych majors or something--that humans were supposed to be social creatures. He was pretty sure this city alone would prove their theories to be bullshit.
But that's why Nate loved it here. People were so determined not to socialize, so used to people bumping into them, that it was prime pick-pocketing territory. Times Square was his favorite place to visit; as full as it was with American tourists and young people gawking at the city lights, it became a fantastic target for somebody who depended on stupidity and arrogance to make a living. His latest mark was a teenage girl on an iPhone--5 if he wasn't mistaken--jabbering away about a musical she had just seen with a group of girlfriends. Nate had spotted her from a mile away in her designer clothes with her designer bag and shoes. She was the type of girl to have a good wad of cash on her, probably an expensive watch. If he was really ambitious he could probably charm speak her while he stole the necklace off her petite neck and then laugh about it later. But with a metaphorical barrel full of fish to shoot at, he didn't need to put much stock in an individual target. Instead he rushed forward to "accidentally" run into her, sending her purse flying right after she deposited the phone back into it.
"What the hell!"
"I am so sorry," He said, looking frazzled and apologetic as he scooped up her purse for her. He was a gentleman after all. Even if he had just slipped her phone and wallet out of her bag and into his own pockets. "I'm just really lost. I hope I didn't--"
"HENDERSON!"
Nate froze but didn't immediately turn towards the voice. The girl looked confused, looking beyond him at the source, but Nate just closed his eyes and cursed under his breath in French. That fact seemed to confuse the girl more. It wasn't that he didn't know who the voice belonged to; it was that he just didn't want to deal with Mason Sullivan and his band of rejects when he was working. Worst. Timing. Ever.
"You're gonna want to run now, sweetheart," He muttered, slipping his hand into his inside pocket to withdraw a deck of cards. They began to glow. And that, apparently, was the deciding factor for the young woman who took off running in fear. Apparently the reincarnate reputation preceded Nathaniel Henderson in Times Square. He pivoted on his heels to face Mason, who had gotten right behind him in the split second it took him to move. The bastard was fast, but then again. Quicksilver. Fucking mutants.
"Did I interrupt a date?" Mason sneered, impish face inclined towards the still running girl. Nate didn't dignify him with an answer. He merely began shuffling the cards in his hands, which warranted a quirk of the eyebrow from the much taller mutant. "Don't threaten me, Nate. You won't win this one."
"I'm a gambling man," Nate responded tersely. He continued to shuffle the cards in his hands as the tension quickly enveloped the air. People around them were starting to take notice of the conflict as the two boys stood in a stand-off. Some were even gathering with camera phones. Fantastic. "What do you want, Sullivan? Or are we going to do the whole song and dance and then end up fighting anyway?"
Mason smirked. Nate had never seen somebody look both like the boy next door and like the most evil son of a bitch in the world simultaneously. Maybe this was what it felt like to live next door to a serial killer. He made a mental note never to try that.
"Talk first, fight later," Mason said. He gave Nate a dismissive hand gesture that Nate was sure including flipping him off at some point, but the guy's hand moved too fast to tell. "Where's Rachel?"
Nate snorted. This guy was a bigger moron than he original thought if he thought Nate would give him any information about Rachel. Gambit's loyalties were fluid at times when it came to teams, but it never waned when it came to Rogue. It was no different in this lifetime; for somebody inherently selfish and focused on his own survival, he was very quick to jump in the hero's cape to protect Rachel. "With Waldo and Carmen Sandiago in Atlantis."
He was expecting more banter. Wasn't that how it worked in the comics? There was witty banter, and then a sentence that very clearly dictated they were starting the physical fight, and then banter while fighting. It was a very precise formula which Mason clearly didn't follow considering he just slammed into Nate and sent him flying through a department store window. Bits of glass stuck at him while consumers screamed and ran for their lives. Outside, curious crowds grew larger, and he was even sure he saw a news camera. The media was damn fast.
"You can't win this, Henderson!" Mason shouted, but he sounded far away. Nate pulled himself to his feet with the help of his bo staff, cards quickly gathered back into one hand. The cards charged up, and after scanning the crowd he finally located Mason. And launched. A good twenty tiny little card bombs aimed squarely at the evil mutant and set to explode on impact. But Mason dodged them, leaving the cards to explode all over the ground at the feet of innocent bystanders. Why did people have to be so damn curious?! This should be where they ran the fuck away, not stopped to film.
"Don't have to win, just gotta get away," Nate muttered to himself, climbing out onto the street. His now free hand moved to rub glass and debris out of his shaggy hair as Mason, cocky as ever, strolled towards Nate with a goddamned grin on his face. He was convinced that he was invincible because of his speed, and thus left himself open. What a moron. Nate slowly grinned, twirling the staff in his hand with increasing speed as it began to charge up, and when Mason was close enough he slammed it on the ground.
The effect was instantaneous. The kinetic energy exploded outwards with a resounding BOOM, with spiderweb-like cracks reaching every-which direction. A crater sized hole had formed where the initial impact had happened. But the best parts, the parts Nate had counted on, had worked marvelously. The ground rocked like with an earthquake, knocking Mason and several people to the ground, and the dust the kicked up shielded Nate from view. He took the confusion as a chance to take off. The crowd hid him once the dust had settled, and Nate didn't stop moving until Mason was far behind him. He just hoped that the 'breaking news' coverage that was bound to happen from this didn't get a good shot of his face.