He used to enjoy thunderstorms, they’d somehow been calming to him when he’d been younger, the constant dull murmur of the rain sweeping the streets, the tension that gathered in the air and crept across the hairs on your arm and neck before lashing out in arcs across the sky in ln brilliant luminescence before being consumed into darkness once again as thunder rumbled in its wake.

With his mutation however, things changed. In order to direct an element you must first be able to perceive it and his power had granted him an awareness of every atom of air for over a mile and while he could focus on one area in an effort to ignore another he had no equivalent to closing his eyes or blocking his ears.His gift granted him dominion over the air and in return he felt everything that happened to it.

Pain could not begin to describe it.

No longer did he merely see and hear the effects of the storm, he could now feel the utter chaos that was cast through the sky. The lightning became a flare of iridescent agony that seared every aspect of his element it touched and drove into his mind like an icepick. The thunder became a deafening explosion with waves of aftershocks that echoed through the air each one striking a body blow to this thoughts.

It was because of this and other situations like it, that Zephyr had sought a means of dulling the pain. Who wouldn’t in his situation? Standard pain killers didn’t work, something that could be bought off the shelf simply wasn’t designed or intended for what he experienced, and while there were less legal narcotics available in back alleys, they were… unreliable, to say the least.

‘Prescribed analgesic’ that was apparently the label for the level of medication he required, Oxycodone, morphine… the names all began to merge together when his thoughts came under siege like this. He poured himself another glass. The key point was that he’d had a means of coping, he’d been prepared.

Murphy, though, smug bastard that he was, never really cared for plans and living in a mutant shelter was all but begging the welcome mat for him.

He drained the glass, barely even tasting the slight burn the liquid left in his throat.

He couldn’t recall the exact sequence of events that caused, those had escaped him after the second bottle, but half his room in Sanctuary had been disintegrated, literally reduced to its composite atoms until all that remained was a dune of dust and ash, including his medication.

With the storm directly overhead and with no immediate means of resupply the hessian had fallen back on a far less efficient, if still effective form of coping, and had promptly shut himself in what passed for the Sanctuary’s wine cellar as he worked to drink himself into a oblivion.

What could possibly go wrong?

Isabel had always been a fan of the rain. It made things seem quieter and there was a distinct kind of stillness that it brought with it into the environment. She'd used to like being outside when it started to rain and enjoying the empty spaces left behind as most people tried to find a place to escape and avoid getting wet. It was more difficult to avoid attention and trouble since her violent reputation had reached a certain point so she didn't get out to enjoy as many showers as she used to.

Thunderstorms, however, were another matter. Those put her on edge and made her feel restless, especially when they happened to pass overhead and put the Sanctuary right into the middle of it. The noise was bad enough, but when the reverberations of the thunder were strong enough to start shaking the building's foundations she was put in mind of far less harmless past events that had shaken the Sanctuary and was able to do little else but pace until the storm finally passed.

She'd checked her drawers and the floor several times hoping to find an unfinished bottle of something that she'd squirreled away and forgotten about, but as luck would have it anything she happened to find had been long since emptied. The thought of getting into the shower and trying to drown out the noise crossed her mind, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to stand still long enough for it to really do any good. She'd have to head down to the kitchen or the cellars and see if there was anything good still lying around.

One good thing about the Sanctuary was that they were hardly ever lacking in alcohol. There were far more adults than children living in the shelter and many of them had picked up a habit of drinking for one reason or another as a means of coping with their problems. Isabel had apparently become one of them at some point.

The community fridge was her first stop, but it was also usually the first place that got picked over and therefore it wasn't all that often that anything good was found in it. It seemed to be a general rule that anything left unattended was up for grabs so if someone couldn't be bothered to stash their stuff where others couldn't get it then it was fair game.

The wine cellar, for lack of a better name, was always a more promising spot, but it was out of the way of the kitchen and the door tended to be locked to deter residents from emptying it so she couldn't often be bothered to rummage through it on most drinking nights. But with such a big storm passing overhead she didn't mind expending a little extra effort.

Locked doors were rarely ever a problem for her as she was quite literally a skeleton key so getting into the cellar was an easy enough task. It also made the temptation of drinking more enticing, but with a certain windbag now living in the Sanctuary and a particular night of binge drinking not far enough in the past she'd been mostly behaving and finding other way to occupy her time. But given the current circumstances she'd deiced to throw caution to the wind and allow another bender.

But luck was rarely ever on her side when Zephyr was involved and this was no exception.

"You're here." It hadn't taken long to stumble across the young man looking like he'd also decided to do a bit of binge drinking of his own and was already well into it. "Of course you're here. That's just fantastic."

Sanctuary hadn’t always been a housing shelter, over it’s less than pristine existence it had been many things, including a base of operations for mutant resistance groups during the time of the camps, all of which was a rather round about way of explaining why the place had not one but three basement levels and an identical number of elevators which worked, at best, a third of the time.

"You're here."

The cellar was on the second sublevel by virtue of it having sturdier doors and being one of the more inconvenient rooms to access given that, with mutants, inconvenience and anonymity were really the only effective safeguards if you didn’t want to restock too often.

"Of course you're here. That's just fantastic."

Apparently though it hadn’t been inconvenient enough.

Bugger.

Lifting his gaze from the upturned barrel he’d been using as a table Zephyr met the shapely soubrettes less than fond expression with one of his own before looking briefly towards the ceiling with a long suffering expression.

“And the night just keeps getting better” His words dripped with sarcasm as he spread his arms in a false gesture of enthusiasm before reaching back to pluck another wine bottle off the rack beside him.

Meeting the busty brunettes eyes again as he gripped the neck of the bottle just below the cork.
Isabel, it’s been too long I was starting to think you were avoiding me” The false cheer in his voice echoed the annoyance in his eyes, the irony of the situation not lost on him; the soubrette could be surprisingly elusive when she wanted to be.

“What brings you by?” He applied pressure. “Here to try and blow me" *PoP* “Up again? No? Probably for the best, you did leave such a mess last time.”[/font]

Spending a moment to refill his glass for the umpteenth time he barely gave the brunette a chance to respond before he continued. “Well? Don’t just hover, take a seat and have a drink, misery loves company after all.”

Zephyr must have gotten a good head start on her and seemed to be well into his bender already. It wasn't news to her that he didn't exactly enjoy Isabel's company, he just wasn't usually quite so blunt about it. "Avoid you? Now why would I ever want to avoid someone like you?" She could match his level of sarcasm without any trouble and she certainly wasn't going to be shy about it.

It was tempting to turn around and leave him to wallow by himself, but that would leave her empty handed and she'd rather not give him the chance to feel satisfied with himself for chasing her off. At least not until she'd had the chance to grab a couple bottles of whatever was on the shelves before he managed to drink his way through most of the Sanctuary's stock.

She curled her lip at his nearly-lewd comment and had opened her mouth to fire back a retort before he cut her off and ordered her to join him. Even drunk he was still as bossy as ever and while she could linger by the door for as long as it took for the compulsion got too strong there really wasn't any use in it. She'd have to join him either way so why not do it sooner rather than later? At least that way she'd get some alcohol into her system that much faster. Given his already surly attitude she guessed it wouldn't be long before he either left or told her to get out so she figured she could weather his company for at least that long.

"I didn't try to blow you up," she said once she'd gotten the chance to speak. Closing the door behind her she made her way over to his makeshift table, grabbing a bottle off the shelf at random as she went. Getting the cork off was an easier task for her since she could rig an effective enough corkscrew and she wasted no time in prying the bottle open and taking a big swig.

It wasn't a lie, technically. It hadn't ever been her aim to catch Zephyr in the explosion. The promise never would have let her go through with it even if she had really wanted to blow him up, but destroying his apartment hadn't ever been off the table and given all the grief he'd put her through it had seemed like a fair exchange at the time. And it wasn't like he didn't have an alternative place to stay. She'd been living at the Sanctuary for years so there was no reason he couldn't put up with the same living conditions for a while too.

"How could I possibly resist such a generous offer? Wouldn't wanna miss out on your charming company." Setting the opened bottle down momentarily she found another barrel to hoist onto its end to use as a seat so she wouldn't have to sit on the dirty floor. Perching cross-legged on the barrel she retrieved the bottle and took another drink. "Can't say it's not a surprise, though. You never really struck me as the wallowing drunk type."

Drinking with Zephyr had never turned out to be a good idea in the past. She would have to be careful about how much of the wine in her hand disappeared before one of them managed to leave. She could drink as much as she wanted once she was behind the locked door of her bedroom, but until then she'd have to settle for no more than a nice buzz.

Like any drug, alcohol took time to process and, because the human body was a product of evolution, that time increased exposure. Still, a pair of wine bottles was generally enough to give most people at least a pleasant buzz and as another roll of thunder barrelled through the sky, causing him to only wince rather than clutch his skull in agony, Zephyr thought he was getting rather more than a ‘buzz’.

It was more like an entire colony of bees.

“Avoid you? Now why would I ever want to avoid someone like you?"[/font]

Oh? What did he have here? This wasn’t the soubrettes usual sulking sass, why this was almost playful. Wait, no, that wasn’t kind right, she hadn’t tried to stab him yet.

Still if she was going to play along...

“Yes, I’m practically prince charming, all I’m missing are the epaulets/” A slight smirk began to tug at the elementals lips as he spoke, even as he cocked an amused eyebrow, before revisiting his glass once again.

Floral cabernets really were the ideal medicine.

Lost in thought for a few brief moment as he tried to recall whether he’d seen another vintage from the Nappa region that he almost missed Duskmoors pouting response to his arson accusation.

“No? It can’t have been to make me homeless, since you knew I could come here easily enough.” A new, entertaining, if not entirely plausible, thought entered his mind and so he tried to affect an air of innocent surprise.

“Why Isabel, was it all some scheme to make me spend more time with you? You should have just said you missed me.”

Huh, he’d actually managed to say that with a straight face

Another glass was sampled and swiftly refilled in the wake of yet another crack of lightning, this one barely even registering in the hessians senses as Duskmoor joined him at the improptu table with her own choice of libation, briefly garnering an inquisitive expression from the elemental when she turned her hand into a corkscrew.

So much versatility.

"How could I possibly resist such a generous offer? Wouldn't wanna miss out on your charming company."

“My my, two compliments in a row, I really must be tipsy, or has my sister been talking your ear off?” He honestly wouldn’t have put it past Maya to try and talk some antiquated romantic notions into the other girls head but he doubted it would have any more effect than a pipette in a bonfire.

Then again he never would have expected the two of them to ever be on friendly terms in the first place. Opposites did attract apparently.

"Can't say it's not a surprise, though. You never really struck me as the wallowing drunk type.

“You mean to say I am not a font of dapper urbanity? Ah, my ego is shattered, clearly the liquor has been lying to me. I shall have to punish it by consuming more of it” He produced another glass from a nearby shelf, pausing only for an instant as thunder once again caused a wince to cross his features, before he resumed motion and offered the glass to the brunette. “Here, you can help.”

Apparently all it took to put Zephyr in a more amicable mood was a bit of flattery, sarcastic as she had intended for it to sound. The alcohol probably helped a lot. Isabel couldn't help but again wonder just how much he'd already had. Enough to make him more pleasant, that was for sure, but he didn't seem to be slurring his words yet so it couldn't have been too much. Hopefully not too much was a safe enough amount to keep her out of more trouble.

"I had hoped you'd wind up somewhere other than here," she replied, trying very hard not to let his teasing rile her up or make her face turn colors. That and she'd failed to plan that far ahead. "Like Ghost's place, maybe. She's always poking her nose in my business, so I'd think taking you in and getting some quality meddling time with you would be right up her alley." She was a bit exasperated by it all, but she wasn't particularly upset by the other young woman pestering her all the time. It was very hard to be angry with Ghost for whatever reason, even if sometimes she did get a bit heavy-handed when it came to Isabel's love life. "Seems like tormenting me runs in the family."

She couldn't help but grin a bit at Zephyr's quips while he passed her a glass from somewhere. Drinking apparently brought out a bit of silliness in him, too. She took the glass without really thinking, intending to set it aside and leave it unused for convenience sake, but on second consideration she thought better of it. At least with a glass she could count how many times she filled it and more clearly see how much she was consuming. It seemed like the safer route to take if she was going to try pacing herself.

"Guess you're not really a fan of storms either?" The wince hadn't escaped her notice, though she doubted his discomfort was anything like her own. She was picking up on the noise above, too, and as hard as she was trying to ignore it she couldn't help but listen intently to the silence that followed the rumbling. At the very least the crashing overhead wasn't quite as loud so far underground and mercifully she couldn't feel the floors shaking any longer. She might have to find her way into the wine cellar more often whenever the weather began to turn.

Addressing the issue was a bit of a gamble. Drunken moods were very quickly soured and bringing up the issue might dampen the playfulness that seemed to have gripped the young man. But even bickering back and forth would be better than sitting in silence and it would bring back a sense of normalcy between them.

Isabel poured her drink into the glass she'd taken, though the bottle never left her other hand. Apparently she'd grabbed something red. She thought she rather liked the color, though there wasn't much time spent admiring it before the glass was nearly drained.

"I had hoped you'd wind up somewhere other than here, Like Ghost's place, maybe... "

Glancing at the soubrette over the rim of his glass Simon couldn’t help but quirk his brow in amusement. Was the girl's memory truly that poor or had she simply selectively edited it? “While family does tend to take care of itself you seem to be forgetting that my sister was rather keen on making you part of ours. Why would she dissuade me from moving here?” He shook his head ruefully while enjoy the somewhat stricken look on Isabel’s face. “No, I think we’re fortunate she didn’t try to have us share the same room.”

Ah, there was the blush he’d been missing, the drink must have been dulling his tongue or maybe the ingenue was simply becoming more mature? Well regardless he didn’t intend to stop drinking any time soon.

"Seems like tormenting me runs in the family."

The words and utter exasperation in the brunettes voices caused a heartfelt chuckle to shake the elementals shoulders at that and he took a moment to rest his head in one hand as he leaned over the makeshift table. “I know that feeling so -very- well.” Another sip and the remnants of the bottle were drained to refill the glass. “If it makes you feel any better, I’d wager she’s just as meddlesome with my life, if not more so.”

The conversation was, enjoyable; a thought which took the hessian somewhat by surprise. While the drink likely wasn’t helping he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to have anything close to amiable conversation with Isabel, their previous talks had always been closer to interrogations, lecturers or, in the gamines case, full on shouting matches. Then again they’d never actually had something in comm-

Oh for pity’s sa- No. No, he was not going to dignifying that thought by completing it and he would steadfastly refuse to acknowledge he was bonding with Duskmoor over a shared annoyance of his sister. Instead he was going to drown that traitorous thought with copious amounts of alcohol.

He glanced at the scattered bottles around him.

Make that more copious amounts of alcohol.

Thus he all but inhaled the entirety of his drink, enjoying the slight burn as down his throat and giving a slight shake of his head at Duskmoors questioning glance; talking about he’d just done what he did would eliminate the purpose in doing so.

"Guess you're not really a fan of storms either?"

Taking a moment to process the question as familiar and welcome haze of inebriety grew thicker about his thoughts Simon's mouth curled into a slight frown as he tilted his empty glass one way and then another before he eventually replied. “You know what my talents are and what’s happening outside.” And it really wouldn’t take any great leap of imagination for her to come to the right answer. “Imagine if every time there was a storm someone took a jackhammer to every bone in, and out of, your body. I doubt it would be enough to break them if you didn’t want it but you wouldn’t enjoy the experience.”

Explanation provided he cast about for another subject, he’d come down here to get away from the storm after all and talking about it was rather counter active.

After a few moments his eyes moved from his still empty glass to the largely full bottle in the shapely soubrettes hand with little else coming to mind he extended his empty glass towards her in silent request before prodded the conversation on. “What about you? I would have thought the noise and chaos of the storm would appeal to you.”

It was a little comforting to know that Ghost's nosy tendencies were spread out to some extent. She could only imagine how much trouble the young woman could be if all that well-meaning meddling was concentrated on one person. "Too bad for her families aren't really my style," she said, hoping the heat in her face would be taken as a side effect of the alcohol. "But I guess since you're staying here it's only gonna encourage her even more." It was bad enough that Zephyr had chosen a room just close enough to harass her from a distance. Sharing a room would have been unbearable, though he probably would have delighted in the extra opportunity to torment her in person at any given moment. "And don't you dare give her any ideas."

The unpleasant image he painted to explain his displeasure with the storm raging overhead certainly shed some light on things. Isabel frowned at the thought, knowing fairly well how unpleasant certain sensations could feel against bone. It certainly explained why he was always popping pills like candy, rather than feeding some kind of addiction as she'd always assumed.

She quirked a brow at him when he extended his glass and rolled her eyes as she obliged anyway and emptied another portion of her bottle. "Lazy," she chided with some annoyance while she refilled her own glass. They were quite literally surrounded by bottles after all, though quite a few of them seemed to have been emptied already. It would be interesting to see how many more he could still successfully open with his hands-free method before he reduced her to a bottle opener.

"I don't like when they pass so close to home," she explained, casting an irritated glance upward as if daring the storm to rage some more. "All that noise and the way it makes the building shake. Reminds me too much of when we had robots crashing through our walls." She half expected to hear the other residents screaming or the security system triggering after some particularly loud peals of thunder. It was almost more unnerving when there was only silence.

"So," she continued, trying to sound unbothered by the issue and how odd it was that their meeting had thus far become an actual conversation with so little difficulty, "I came down here for some peace and some booze to drown out all the noise and I found you trying to hog it all instead. Because you are a jerk and ruin everything I ever try to do."

"But I guess since you're staying here it's only gonna encourage her even more."

“Actions, meet consequences”,Lifting one hand Simon moved it from side of the table to the other as he spoke, adopting the manner of one making introductions. “Neither of you will like the other and there’s little you can do about it.”

Lowering his hand the elemental met Duskmoors eyes and gave a slight shrug. “Honestly though, I doubt it will get much worse; she has a kid to take care so her ‘torment’ time is limited. At worst she’ll end up focusing on one of us over the other.”

“And don’t you dare give her any ideas.”

“Given she already think we’re an item, I’m not sure how that’s possible; it’s not as though she can lock us in a closet… though now I think about it I wouldn’t put it past her to try. She can be oddly naive about that sort of thing.”

And if naive wasn’t the perfect word for Maya he wasn’t sure what was. Even having closed to three decades now the woman still seemed determined to see the best and ignore the worst in others, even in the face of all common sense. Yet somehow it ended up working for her, like an overeager puppy that no one wanted to kick, people found themselves not wanting to disappoint her.

Huh, maybe she was part empath.

As he entertained that train of thought Isabel proved gracious enough to share her libations and refill his drink, though not before chiding him on his utter indolence. “Guilty as charged.” He quipped with another shrug of his shoulders before knocking the drink back.

“Hmm, I hadn’t taken you for a fan of menage a trois, good choice.” The words were delivered with an honest tone of bemusement as he reconsidered his glass and it wasn’t until he glanced at Duskmoor again that he realized the prime opportunity he’d let slip by and he paused for a moment before slumping slightly and shaking his head.

“I can’t help but feel I missed a wonderful chance to be witty. The wine is clearly doing me no favours… may I have another?”

Isabel’s own explanation for her dislike of storms, while not quite as tangible as his own was no less poignant. He’d honestly forgotten that Sanctuary had been raided during the camp and to this day he still didn’t understand how government had managed it successfully. The Order had held a very real presence in those days, counting among its number nearly ten individuals who were essentially one man armies, Isabel included. The original Stalker machines truly had been monstrous engineering feats.

Fortunately they’d also been ridiculously cost prohibitive and with the abolishment of the camps the government funding for them had all but vanished. Even the new machines that existed now were only pale imitations.

The unexpected tangent Isabel introduced left a quizzical expression on Simon’s face but it soon shifted to one of faint amusement as she levelled her accusations at him without any real heat.

“Such hurtful words, you wound me Isabel. I thought we were friends.” He clapped a hand to his chest as he tried, and failed, to adopt an expression of sorrow. Noticing the brunettes own empty glass, he left his drink on the table to reach behind him as another bottle leapt into his palm, nearly fumbling it before he could grasp it properly and bring it into view.

“Could I tempt your forgiveness with a peace offering? Good drink is best enjoyed with company after all, and I’ve yet to be disappointed with what I’ve found here.”

"A kid? Huh." That was almost as bad as Ghost dating Cafas, an X-Loser Isabel had butted heads with in the past. Or maybe it was worse. She'd have to weight the two against each other at some point, but for now it was enough to say they were both awful and she'd be avoiding them at all costs. It was just her luck to wind up in a friendship with someone who was literally in bed with the X's. "Here's hoping that weird family thing keeps you in her sights instead of me."

Locking the pair of them in the closet was the least of her worries, though Ghost did seem like the type that might take dating advice from cliche high school movies. Now that she was in the loop about certain aspects of the other young woman's personal life she would have to worry about more horrifying prospects like double dates.

Ugh. Another drink was needed in the face of such a nightmarish thought.

She quirked a brow over the rim of her glass at the phrase Zephyr uttered and paused to look at the bottle in her other hand. The label did indeed have french scrawled across it, but it wasn't the same french. Still it sounded familiar, but her thoughts were starting to feel just a little slippery and she couldn't quite grasp that particular one. At least until he gave himself away bemoaning his slow response time.

"Oh, don't be gross," she scolded, wrinkling her nose over what was left of the wine in her glass. At least the heat in her face was definitely in part caused by the wine at this point so hopefully any more color would be hidden. "But if that's the best you can do when you're drinking, then by all means," she continued, pouring what was left of her bottle into his glass. She dropped the empty bottle on the ground beside her, not hard enough for it to shatter but it did make an awful lot of noise while it rolled away and she sort of hoped that his head hurt just enough for the noise to bother him.

Watching Zephyr trying to catch the bottle he'd ejected from the wall was a little unnerving. Since he was sitting across from her there was a good chance that a later attempt to do the same could end badly for her. "Looks like your coordination is suffering as much as your wit," she said, extending her glass with a smirk when a drink was offered.

How many glasses was that? Three? Maybe four? No more than four, right? It couldn't be a good sign if she was losing track already. She'd have to pay closer attention, maybe start keeping a tally on the surface of the barrel-table or something. Or just stop drinking. But not until finishing what was already in her glass. Probably.

"Well Mr. King never did seem like the type to pinch pennies, and who knows how long he had this stuff before he brought it here. Some of it's probably ours, too. The Order was always very good at collecting things," she mused, watching the wine in her glass as she gave it a swirl. "Can't say there'll be much more to find if you keep drinking like you are, though."

Here's hoping that weird family thing keeps you in her sights instead of me."

“You’re all heart Isabel, anyone ever tell you that?”

Sarcasm, it was just one of the many services he provided, and he wasn’t even charging her for it, truly he was too kind. “Still, if there’s one thing we can agree on it’s that the less time she has to meddle the better” He raised his glass to brunette, waiting for her to mirror the gesture. “To avoiding my sister, may we both have better luck than either of us deserve.”

How long had it been now? One hour? Two? It was oddly unsettling how the passage of time quickly became an abstract concept at best when stuck inside a windowless room. He’d originally kept a rough count based on the growing number of bottles, but with Duskmoor’s unexpected arrival the number was growing quicker than he expected.

Honestly, in other circumstances it might have been concerning, but as it was he couldn’t quite find it in himself to care if the girl proved to have something of a problem. If it was truly an issue it would have come up before… and now he was thinking about the last time they’d both been intoxicated.

Spiffing.

Leaving his glass on the upturned barrel he raised a hand to the bridge of his nose as he tried to clear his thoughts. Admittedly, he’d come down here for a distraction, but a hangover was one thing, a one night stand -and was it still called that if it happened twice?- with Isabel was quite another.

Thankfully before his treacherous thoughts could wander further down that path, the shapely soubrette in question indulged her usual jejune impulse and dropped her latest conquest on the concrete floor with an all too audible *Kernk* which left first him wincing and then glaring at the ingenue with mild annoyance.

“Do that again and the next cork is going to your head.”

The fact that he said just as he’d retrieved a new bottle and was uncorking it in her direction was in no way meant to be taken as a threat, for as a great man once said, calling something a threat implied it may not happen. No his words carried a simple promise.

Even if he had to walk around the table and plant it on her head by hand.

Duskmoor, perhaps sensing this thoughts, couldn’t keep a smirk off her lips as she treated his ultimatum with her usual aplomb as she finished her glass so he could return her earlier favour. "Looks like your coordination is suffering as much as your wit,"

Matching the buxom brunettes smirk with an unamused stare for several seconds the elemental finally rolled his eyes and poured his impromptu partner a glass of some ivory vintage whose label currently escaped him. “Yes yes, a great man brought low by drink, what a travesty.”

Lifting the bottle as he finished speaking he saw that he’d just managed to fill Isabel’s glass to the brim without it overflowing and the amusement which coloured his voice was less than subtle as he watched her debate how to bring the glass back into drinking range without spilling. “However will you cope?”

When the topic turned again to the Sanctuary’s past Simon found himself with a reminder of just how long Duskmoor had been with Order. Dorian King had been the founding father of the entire organization and he’d arrived in the city almost a decade ago, acquiring Sanctuary, obtaining contracts, licenses and other political agreements with the city and then vanishing after only a few years. There were few who even remembered his name these days.

“King had more money than he knew what to do with, I’m half convinced his fortune came from possessing dimwitted celebrities and having them write most of their fortunes to him.” It fit the man's personality too well and went a long way to explaining his arrogance and was far more comforting than the alternative which was that he’d been body hopping for generations and stockpiling resources throughout. “Still, some of these probably are from your efforts, given their age, funny though I don’t recall assaulting vineyards or warehouses, Fort Knox was more your thing if I recall.”

And hadn’t that been a media sensation at the time; the biggest gold vault in the country raided by less than a dozen mutants, maybe even half a dozen depending on how one counted certain members.

In the face of Duskmoors oh so grave concern that they’d soon run out ambrosia Simon merely quirked an eyebrow at before pointedly glancing at the rows of shelves that had yet to be touched. “If there is one thing I’ve found in life, it’s that there is always more wine, you just have to find it.”

”Now rum on the other hand, that’s a different story altogether.

The last was said with a wry grin as he again drained his glass and poured himself the same white wine he’d given the soubrette and in the slight silence that followed he found a quiet sense of curiosity surfacing as he recalled the Order exploits, and after ruminating on the question for a few moments he decided to voice it. “You were one of the founding members of the Order weren’t you Isabel?” At the slight nod of her head he continued. “You would have been 16 or so if I have the math right, quite an accomplishment really, how did you join them?”

It seemed like the severity of Zephyr's threats were starting to suffer along with the rest of his usual charming qualities. If tossing a cork at her was the best he could do then Isabel hardly felt disinclined to continue creating small annoyances. And his reaction did assure her that her attempt to aggravate him had succeeded. She might have even given the bottle a nudge with her foot to make more noise if it hadn't already rolled out of her reach. Tragic.

Of course eyeing the too-distant bottle had distracted her from her glass and by the time she'd brought her attention back around Zephyr had just finished filling it to the brim, leaving her to stare at it in distress as it sat waiting on the table. "Now that's just childish," she accused, attempting to slowly lift the glass but finding that she couldn't get her hands quite steady enough to prevent some spillage. She quickly put it back down and wiped her damp hands on her pajama pants with a scowl.

She really should slow down, but it was a spite thing now and she had to make sure all that wine disappeared.

"I never asked questions about where his money came from. Never really cared, either," she replied with a shrug. Illegal or underhanded methods never bothered her, especially if it benefited her in some way. "Never asked questions about our collections, either. Gold, booze, whatever floats their boats."

He could keep the rum, if there was any left. The wine by itself was already giving her enough trouble and she didn't want to push her buzz any faster. She probably should stop after the over-filled glass. Once she managed to finish it anyway.

Isabel gave a nod do his question about the Order while she piled her hair into one hand and pulled it over her shoulder out of the way so she could lean over and sip the wine out of her glass while it was still on the table until she could safely pick it up without spilling it.

She shrugged again as she sat back up, glass in hand and a pleased smirk on her face. "I just kind of showed up," she replied, brushing her hair back over her shoulder again. "King opened this place up as a mutant shelter to cover up his other business and I needed a place to go so I moved in. Got involved in kidnapping the Haywire kid pretty soon after that and the rest is history."

“That’s just childish.”

“Well, I can’t let you have all the fun. .

That’s what he’d intended to say, instead the elemental found his shoulders shaking as a full hearted chuckle escaped his throat and he planted a hand on their impromptu table for balance, unintentionally adding some his own drink to the growing puddle as Isabel struggled to deal with hers.

The sheer irony, did she even realize? No, no she was scowling as she tried to dry her hands which somehow only served to make things better. Still after a few seconds his laughter died down and he was able to look his drinking partner in the face while a smile tugged at his mouth.

“Good grief. I never thought I’d hear you call me childish.” Taking a brief moment to refill his own glass he raised it to her as his grin became a wry smirk. “Well played Isabel.”

Another roll of thunder seemed to echo through the building, yet it seemed noticeably fainter to his senses despite being strong enough send a slight swing through the hanging ceiling light. Perhaps the drinks were finally starting to have an affect? It had only taken, no, no he wasn’t going to count; it wasn’t as though it would make him feel any better.

Such thoughts only distracted him for a short time though and he was able to catch Duskmoors lack of curiosity for Mr. Kings funds or the tasks she was assigned and he couldn't help but arch an eyebrow in response.

“I suppose not asking questions can be a valuable skill in and of itself. Still, I thought part of being a teenager was challenging and questioning authority wherever you found it. Were you never curious about why you had one target over another or were you just in it for the mayhem?”

Knowing what he did the latter was far more likely than the former, but it hardly hurt to ask. It seemed to be an evening for sharing… or was it morning now? Eh, details.

Rather than answering immediately Isabel instead gathered her curtain of hazel hair in one hand, baring her neck and shoulders as she gathered it behind her before bending over the barrel... at which point Simon became distinctly aware that the shapely soubrette favoured rather loose sleepwear as she gave him an ample eyeful.

The view was not to last though, as soon as she’d taken a mouthful Duskmoor straightened and lifted her glass with a pleased expression even as her now wet tank top fell back onto her chest and promptly molded itself to her figure...without her being any the wiser, or perhaps not caring or maybe even - No, no they’d had this discussion, it wasn’t happening.

Yet as Isabel sat back and calmly rattled off her abridged history of the Order without an apparent care in the world, Simon found himself paying her words only half a thought as the other half was taken up with well...cellars weren’t meant to be warm were they? Granted he could see two points opposing the notion- Alright no, she had to be doing this on purpose.

Pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand Simon closed his eyes and focused on just taking a drink as he tried to get his thoughts in order, something which took rather longer than it should have before finally speaking as he gestured vaguely towards her chest. ”Out of curiosity Isabel, are you doing this intentionally or do you honestly not notice? Because while I appreciate the distraction I can’t help but feel I should offer you my jacket.”

At which point lightening struck for the third time in as many minutes and the swaying light above briefly flickered before cutting out, throwing the room into darkness and drawing a heavy sigh from the hessian.

“That works to I suppose.”

"I call 'em as I see 'em," she replied, alternating between scowling and almost-smiling. Zephyr laughing at her was usually infuriating, but she was starting to feel brain-warm and a little more than a little fuzzy and it was hard not to be a bit giggly. She took a long sip from her glass to distract herself from the laughter and save the scowl.

Isabel shrugged at his skepticism over how well she'd handled her teenage years. "King called the shots, but he didn't hold the reigns too tight. There really weren't too many rules to rebel against and I was content with being pointed in a direction and let loose," she replied, suddenly feeling rather nostalgic. She missed having that kind of mayhem and bloodshed in her life. It was exciting. "It was pretty much a dream job for an angry teen with a hatred of humans and an affinity for violence." It still was a dream job now that she was an angry adult who hated humans and had an affinity for violence. It was a shame the Order had drifted apart.

Her gaze drifted upward as thunder boomed overhead again, loud enough to actually make the lights swing. She frowned at the sight. Her warm fuzzies died down a little and some of her earlier nerves began to come back. Shaking buildings and swinging lights were generally a bad thing in her opinion. Apparently she would need more booze to forget about the storm and her concerns.

Zephyr's next words distracted her from the seemingly never-ending storm overhead, though it took a moment to process what he meant. When it finally dawned on her what he was motioning to and she adjusted her gaze accordingly to assess the problem she was immediately mortified and almost as quickly turning beet red. "Sonova-" she huffed and promptly pulled at the front of her shirt to unstick it from her skin. How had she not noticed that? Warm fuzzies definitely gone. Things could not get any worse.

Or maybe they could. Because only being lost in total darkness could top what was already happening.

The crash overhead and the sudden loss of light effectively startled Isabel enough that she lost her balance and nearly toppled over. She had to relinquish her grip on both her shirt and her glass in order to steady herself against the barrel she was sitting on and the one acting as a table. Subsequently she wound up with more wine splashed on herself as well as the floor, followed shortly by the sound of glass shattering somewhere beneath her. Fantastic.

"Shut up," she shot back, less than appreciative of his sarcastic comment. Technically he might have been right, but she wasn't going to agree with him. She doubted a jacket would fix anything now, even if she had accepted the offer. This was why Isabel rarely drank outside her room anymore. Bad situations were a lot safer to weather on her own behind a locked door.

The Sanctuary had backup systems to compensate for power outages so the upper levels would probably have some power back relatively quickly, but they didn't seem to extend to places like the wine cellar. It made sense not to power non-essential rooms, but that didn't help her at the moment. She wished she still had a drink in her hand.

"Well that's just great. Now what?"

It was like something out of a cartoon; lightning cracked, the lights died and almost instantly he felt Isabel begin to flail as she abandoned any pretense of protecting her modesty in favour of staying upright, knocking their half full bottle to the floor and upending her glass over herself as she latched onto the larger barrel between them.

Simon open his mouth-

“Shut up.”

-only to pause, and then close it with a slight sigh as he reached for the remains of his own drink, deftly plucking it from the thoroughly soaked barrel top and away from any further flailing arms. The darkness didn’t do much to inconvenience him, when you feel the surrounding air as well as what displaced it actual sight was more of a benefit than a necessity. Granted, he’d come down here with the expressed purpose muffling his spatial awareness but that simply made things blurry rather than pitch black.

Regardless though he doubted Isabel would appreciate the distinction so he decided to keep the fact he could technically ‘see’ to himself.

"Well that's just great. Now what?"

Taking a moment to sip from his glass Simon pondered a moment before speaking, "We could stay here, there’s still more than enough for us to drink until they bring the power back, assuming we can find it.” Said option was met with a groan of disgust as Isabel again pulled her soaking shirt away from her skin and so he continued with a roll of his eyes.

“That said, much as I’d like to continue drinking, I don’t think either of us are keen on sitting around in wet clothes.” Not that he was, but better to let her think he share her fate than not. “This place used to be extra living space before they turned it into storage we might be able to find something to dry to change into, or even a shower, the water should still be running after all.”

Finish the remains of his simon made to stand up, only to find himself mirroring Isabel’s earlier movement as the world seemed to tilt around him forcing him to latch onto a nearby wine rack as the sense of vertigo passed. Being dizzy when you couldn’t see was an odd sensation, he could feel the world around him staying still while at the same time his inner ear told him it was doing a slow but purposeful spin.

Surreal, that was the word he was looking for.

Regardless it was making walking more than a trifle puzzling and he found himself contemplating the space between his current position and the door with a slight frown on his face before he turned back to Duskmoor. “Out of curiosity, how’s your sense of balance at the moment? I have a rough idea of the layout on this floor so I can take us around, but if we’re falling down every few steps it won’t do us much good.”