The blonde polished off the olives from her martini and then drank the rest of the martini itself. Matt watched on, a little impressed that she was that willing to finish it so quickly. For how uptight she seemed to have been otherwise, she was eager to keep drinking. Maybe it was a worse day than she had initially let on.

"Definitely not a native," he replied with a smirk, hoping that he hadn't picked up a New Yorker accent to give her that sort of impression. God, that would be a let down. A Guatemalan accent would be a thousand times better, even if it would come with the same prejudice he'd watched his parents deal with. "Guatemala originally, and then Massachusetts. Bunch of travelling, then here. In a roundabout way." That was the easiest way to put it, really. Going into his military career or the few years following Sophie's death where he went everywhere and anywhere were not things he wanted to go into.

He nodded to her martini glass that now sat empty. She was still working on her hotdog, so it didn't look like she was going anywhere, unless she decided that she didn't want to finish it. "Want another one?" he asked her, his hands moving expectantly to the bottles behind the bar. Most people did walk in there to drink, after all. Not to have stunted conversations with the bartender.

Svetlana, like most ESL people, was really not big on accents. It seemed to be a national pastime of Americans to try to place accents, whether they were right or not, and then make judgments on people based on what they sounded like. Sveta, since her brain was mostly occupied with deciphering a second language, really never paid much attention to accents, unless they were glaringly obvious. In Russian, sure, she heard the difference. In English, she did not much care. Which is why she tended to ask people if they were from somewhere else, rather than listening for it.

>>"Definitely not a native. Guatemala originally, and then Massachusetts. Bunch of travelling, then here. In a roundabout way."

Guatemala. Sveta blinked; she did not expect something that... far. "Sounds like we both traveled a long way." she admitted with a smirk. No wonder he knew that it felt like to be an immigrant.

>>"Want another one?"

Sveta nodded, wanting her glass to be refilled. A second martini was not going to hurt. The bartender also sounded more interesting now; not just an adapted, but also someone who traveled a lot. Sveta was sure there was more of a story there. But also, she kinda wanted to poke at him a little. Or maybe a lot. They were both playing their cards close to the chest, but so far, he was definitely winning.

"So, are you aware that you have an adapted aura?"

It was strange how two people who travelled so much could end up in the same place talking to each other. Two immigrants meeting in a bar. There was a knock-knock joke in there somewhere, surely. Matt nodded at her comment with a smirk; yes, they both had travelled a long way to be sitting there. A whole lot of life boiled down to that specific moment. Was it worth it? Probably not, but there wasn't much to be done.

When she nodded at the question of a refill, Matt got to work, busying himself with making another martini. She posed another question to him while he went, to which he merely raised his eyes and gave her a quizzical glance. An adapted aura? Was That new street lingo? Drugs? Just a regular compliment and he just wasn't up on the way people spoke those days to catch it? Either way, he wasn't sure exactly how to respond to it.

Silently, he poured the drink into her cup and then pulled out the olives from the mini fridge below the bar. Another stick stuck in to rest on the side of the cup. "Never heard of it, so I guess not," he said honestly, sticking the cocktail shaker in the sink to be washed out. He then turned the tap on and began to scrub it out, having used all three of the ones he had at his disposal. That meant that he would actually have to wash them out rather than just using the next one and letting it 'sit and soak'.

The last time Sveta met an adapted (met being an understatement), he was very much aware of his adapted powers. She knew that it was not always the case. For adapteds, their field only really become a thing when they ran into mutants who freaked out, or showed signs of not being able to use their powers. It was a game of roulette, of being at a certain place at a certain time.
Still, she wanted to poke at the issue. Maybe the guy already knew. Or maybe he didn't know, but he had heard of adapteds before.
Or maybe the thought she was nuts.

>> "Never heard of it, so I guess not,"

Sveta sighed a little as she took the martini. That was not exactly the most exciting reaction she could have gotten. He didn't seem to know he had powers, but he also did not really seem to care. Go figure. There was something in that reaction that made Sveta try again.

"Well, breaking news then. You null mutant powers. Cheers?" she smirked, raising her glass before she went back to finishing her hot dog. Really, she was doing a good deed. Some adapteds could get into trouble if they didn't know about their auras.

It wasn't that Matt didn't care about what she was saying, but she did sound a little bit crazy. He'd simply said that he didn't know, because that was the truth. She didn't seem to be content with that, though, and so she kept going. She kept going and told him something that Matt really, really didn't want to hear.

"Well, breaking news then. You null mutant powers. Cheers?"

Matt paused, holding the shaker underneath the water but not scrubbing anymore. The water ran over the metal, and over his hands, over his wedding ring, but he paid it no mind. What the f*ck? What the hell was she getting at? Matt stared at the shaker for a minute, repeating the words that she'd just said over and over in his mind, trying to take them in fully. Null mutant powers. Null mutant powers. That meant just one thing, the thing that Matt had known all along.

There were two more deaths that he was responsible for.

The night that Sophie died, he'd watched as a mutant's powers failed in front of him, and in seconds, both he and Matt's wife lay dead. He'd tried to get the thought that it had nothing to do with him out of his head, but it was more likely that he'd known all along that it was his fault. What else could it be, really? There was no other explanation. God damn it, he really hadn't want to know that. Matt shut his eyes and raised his head to the ceiling, trying to get a hold of himself. He would not have a breakdown at work. He would not. He would get a hold of himself and finish off the shift. It was only another hour or so, anyway.

He reached over and shut off the stream of water, dumping the shaker in the other sink to dry for a while. With his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed, he walked back toward the blonde at the bar. There was a new distain in his glare and in his voice. "What would give you that idea, huh?" he asked. He had no reason to be angry with her, really; it wasn't her fault at all that she'd been the one to break thte news. Realistically, she had just done him a favour, but he really wasn't feeling it. At all. Instead, he was simply angry with her that she'd popped his bubble.

Once again, his reaction was not quite what she had expected. If he truly did not know about his aura, she thought he would react with some kind of wide-eyed surprise, or maybe laugh it off as some kind of a bad joke, or maybe something created by her own mind, and simply write her off as crazy. Would not have been the first time. But no. This guy... he looked stunned for a moment. And then... definitely not happy. There was tension in his voice as he walked back to her, and Sveta promptly put her hot dog down. She really did not aim to start a fight. Damn.

>> "What would give you that idea, huh?"

Sveta blinked, then sighed. She owed this much to a guy, and she had halfway admitted it already anyway.

"That's because I am sitting in your aura and my powers are not working." she responded, keeping an eye on his reaction. She doubted he would vault over the bar, but in case he did, she knew how to defend herself. "I just thought you might want to know."

She just thought he would want to know. Yeah, that sounded about right. Matt had assumed, by that point, that she was a mutant, and that only confirmed things. He could care less if she was a mutant, but the information was what had thrown him off. He ran a hand over his jaw, taking a deep breath as he put a hand on his waist, staring the woman down. God, that was incredibly rude. She had completely thrown him off his game. Usually, there was very little that would actually make Matt angry or concerned, but she'd definitely hit a nerve. "F***..." he muttered under his breath.

He needed a minute. Matt turned around silently, putting the shakers away. They weren't dry yet, but he needed something to keep himself busy. Something to keep his mind from going to the absolute worst places. He could not go there. Not then, maybe not ever. Maybe it was a good idea to give his old therapist another call. Wow, he hadn't expected that, walking into work that morning.

With the shakers away, Matt was out of menial tasks. He closed his eyes and let out a breath as he leaned on the back countertop, taking a minute to compose himself. He had to say something. He had, after all, just been incredibly rude to the woman, who probably thought that he was just being an ass because she just exposed herself as a mutant. As much as she had just said something to him, she'd also just let her own secret out and was trusting him with it.

"Sorry," he said as he turned around. "It's not you. I've got... my own s*** with this stuff," he admitted, casting his eyes down. "Lotta s***, actually. I guess I've had an idea about that for a while." She didn't need to hear his whole life story, and he didn't really want to tell it. He knew that he likely wouldn't even make it all the way through, and then things would get really weird.

>> "F***..."

Well, all of this took a spectacularly awful turn. Sveta wanted to take it back, for both of their sake, but it was too late for that now. He looked more distressed than angry, and went back to doing things behind the counter. Sveta watched him, looking for signs of what exactly was going on in his head. Dealing with the news that one had powers, whatever kind they were, was not easy. She should have thought before she sprang that on him.

After a while, he gathered himself enough to return. By that time, she had unceremoniously finished her hot dog.

>>"Sorry. It's not you. I've got... my own s*** with this stuff. Lotta s***, actually. I guess I've had an idea about that for a while."

"Shouldn't have gotten into it at all" Sveta noted with a sigh "Believe me, I know the feeling. Looks like you could use a drink too, huh." He was the bartender on duty, obviously, but people manifesting powers generally got a pass on grabbing some alcohol. "I won't tell if you don't."

Matt paid little mind to the fact that she'd finished her food. He was on autopilot as he reached over and took the plate out from in front of her. He stuck it on the countertop behind him, despite the fact that it was supposed to go in the kitchen. Going to the kitchen didn't feel like something he really wanted to do in that moment. Actually, he just wanted to go home and throw things around for a bit, but that was out of the question. Again, his actions were constrained by the fact that his rent was nearly due.

She said that he needed a drink. She was right; really right. Normally, Matt would have said no. He was working, he had rules. He couldn't just drink when he was at work, no matter how much he wanted to. That night, though, he felt like he deserved a pass. Hell, he deserved several passes. Meeting her eyes for a second, he grabbed a glass from a stack and poured from the same glass of vodka that he'd made her martini from. It wasn't his usual pick, but he wasn't feeling particularly choosy in that moment. No, he was feeling like he needed to get black out drunk very, very soon. Unfortunately, he was going to have to settle for just the one drink.

Matt ducked just below the counter, like he was about to grab something, and in one go, downed the drink. He stood up a second later and put the glass in the sink, displaying expert subtlety. There were cameras on the bar that very few people watched, but drinking on the job would be grounds for a write up if anyone did see it. He needed to make sure that it wasn't obvious what he was doing.

Something to get his mind going again was more than necessary, he decided. Something - anything - that wasn't Sophie's face. "So what're your powers, then? What am I stopping you from doing?"

He drank. It was pretty clear that he was not supposed to drink on the job, and yet he filled a glass, and shot the vodka under the counter like his life depended on it. Sveta sighed again. She knew the feeling; that horrible sinking feeling when you grabbed the nearest bottle, and to hell with the consequences. Whatever being an adapted meant to him, it was not a pleasant surprise. And it was something... more personal than "holy hell I'm a freak." She would have recognized that.

He returned to her, and Sveta braced herself for more questions.

>>"So what're your powers, then? What am I stopping you from doing?"

That she did have a prepared answer to.

"I'm... human coffee, basically. I have a constant buzz, and it affects people around me. It's like an aura of caffeine."

Okay, so she was a mutant. Matt had pretty much been expecting that all along, considering her affiliations and the strange way she’d been acting since she’d come in. It all made sense; it fit together like the last piece of some twisted puzzle. But man, he had been hoping for just a smidgen of forgiveness from whatever deity was looking down on him that day. If she wasn’t a mutant, then she wouldn’t have any authority over whether or not he could turn off powers. Of course, he hadn’t been so lucky.

He nodded when she explained her powers, though, rubbing his eyelids with his thumb and his forefinger. No wonder she needed a drink if she was making people hyper all the time. ”Okay, so you get people high when you come close enough to them, then?” he mused, half to her and half to himself. A pretty girl who also felt like caffeine? She must’ve been doing pretty well for herself. Hell, she could market that no problem if she wanted to. Still he had another question. ”And why the gloves, then?” If it was just an aura, then why did she need to bother with them? Maybe it was just a style choice after all?

He was starting to feel a little better after the shot he’d taken under the bar, but his head was still spinning a little. Matt grasped the bridge of his nose with a sigh, trying to ground himself while he was in public. With any luck, the woman would keep answering his questions to take his mind off things.

”How do you know about... what was that word? Adaptable?” he asked. She must’ve had her ear to the ground in the organization she worked for, but he didn’t know how privileged the information she had just given him was. He didn’t doubt her, though - as he thought through his life events, it was like filling in the blanks that kept him up at night. It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but it was the one that he’d always sort of known, deep down. But how many of them were there? It didn’t sound like a run of the mill thing.

He was slowly getting a grip. Seemed like the vodka helped at least a little. Sveta knew he probably was rapidly reevaluating his past, present, and future in light of the new information. The guy really needed a break. He was distracting himself by asking her questions.

>>”Okay, so you get people high when you come close enough to them, then?”

"Kinda." Sveta nodded. It was true, even if it was only part of the truth.

>>”And why the gloves, then?”

"Clean freak." Sveta deadpanned. She was not going to go into any more power details; the more she said, the more suspicious she would sound. He probably didn't care that much anyway.

>>”How do you know about... what was that word? Adaptable?”

"Adapted human." Sveta answered, sipping more of her drink "I have met... a few people like you before. Since my aura is always on, I can tell when it is turned off. It's like... the background noise is suddenly not there. Some say that people like you are evolution's response to people like me." she rested her elbows on the counter "Except, you never find out what you are if a mutant doesn't tell you. And the world is not black and white anyway."

One or two word answers were all that she gave him in response to his first two questions. Matt narrowed his brow as he looked at her, as if trying to decide what to make of it. No one was enough to a clean freak to eat a hotdog with gloves on, and if they were, then they definitely wouldn’t have decked out their meal the way she had. She had taken the autonomy about his abilities away from him, but she had the option to keep her own. Still, Matt wasn’t going to overstep if she didn’t want him to. It very much seemed like she didn’t want him to.

It was only when he asked his final question that she said more than two words. Actually, she said a lot more than two words. Her powers were always on, so she felt it when he snatched them away. ”So it a good feeling? Bad? Weird?” Hopefully that would get her going a bit. He’d never met someone who liked to talk about themselves as little as he did.

But he understood her on a level he didn’t understand most people. Matt went as far as to chuckle slightly awkwardly as she mentioned that the world wasn’t black and white. ”You can say that again,” he agreed. If anyone knew that, it was Matt. He just had to get over himself for now.

”Is it rare, then? Or am I likely to run into another poor sucker who got lumped into the same category?” Were there other people who had had their lives ruined in the same way? She said that he was human, so that set him apart from mutants in a way, but he wondered how similar it would be to their experience. He’d gotten by for 34 years without knowing what he was, though, so that was something.

She owed him at least some kind of an explanation. Not that Sveta was an expert on adapteds. In fact, she doubted that such a thing even existed; people like Zelda researched mutant powers, but Sveta had not heard of anyone who researched adapted humans specifically. Maybe SUPER had someone. They probably did. But at least she could offer as much as she knew, to help this guy with coming to terms with his powers.

>>”So it a good feeling? Bad? Weird?”

"Mostly good" she admitted. Not that the coffee buzz itself bothered her. It was a part of her powers, therefore it was natural. But the lack of it meant that she was in an adapted aura - that she was safe from accidental power boosts. That feeling of safety was addictive. Which is why she pointed out nothing was black and white - if this was evolution's weapon against mutants, she had to be a freak to actually approve of it.

>>”You can say that again,”

"Everything is messy." Sveta reiterated with a smirk, and drank again.

>>”Is it rare, then? Or am I likely to run into another poor sucker who got lumped into the same category?”

"Rare, from what I know. But I ran into more dan one, so not impossible. It is likely neither of you would notice, though." Sveta pointed out, leaning on the counter. How would two adapteds even realize they were the same? "It might not be a mutant power, but it's still a power. Most people are very private about that."

Mostly good. Well, at least Matt could rest easy in the moment, knowing that he wasn’t hurting anyone now. It wasn’t a ton of comfort, but it was some. He nodded, his eyes unfocused by that point. He was minutes away from getting lost in his memories, but he was managing to hold it together.

The world was messy and private; two very good descriptive words. If he did meet someone else like him, then it was likely that they would both go on their way, never knowing their common trait. Really, it was only when he met a mutant that was aware that their power was being turned off that he would have any issue at all. Or, that’s what it sounded like, anyway. ”There aren’t any other complications with this, are there?” Matt wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted an answer to that, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Matt leaned on the back counter with a sigh, crossing his arms as he cast his eyes up to the clock on the other end of the wall. It was later than he thought it was, actually. That meant that he could go home and get plastered by himself and throw things for a bit. He could lose himself in his mistakes and the things he couldn’t control. He could do that, or...

”So I got a few minutes until my shift change. I think for this, you owe me a drink. A real drink that’s not underneath the counter.” He smirked a little at the blonde woman. She didn’t really owe him anything, but she had just given him information that brought light to old wounds. He didn’t really want to go home alone to drink, since he knew it would send him to even darker places, but with someone else he knew he’d have to keep holding himself together.