>>”There aren’t any other complications with this, are there?”

Sveta shook her head.

"Not as far as I know. You can't really turn it off, though." they had that in common. As much as she wanted a break from her powers, the only way to do that... was, well, people like him. But other than the unexpected effects of powers turned off, adapteds at least did not have secondary mutations and side effects to worry about. As far as she knew.
He looked about ready to clock out.

>>”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.”

She did. She could not argue that. And her day was done anyway, two martinis in.

"Sure." she smirked, offering a hand over the counter "My name is Svetlana, by the way. Sorry about freaking you out. I do owe you a drink."

To his relief, the blonde didn’t argue with him. Instead, she nodded and agreed, and even went as far as to actually give him her name. Svetlana. Sounded as Russian as she did. ”Matt,” he replied, shaking her hand across the countertop. ”Someone has to freak me out eventually, I guess.” It was bound to happen. Karma always found a way.

Matt was feeling a bit strange; almost as if he was floating or not really there. Ten more minutes. Nope, he didn’t want to wait ten more minutes. It was dead, anyway, and the next music group hadn’t even arrived. He would survive one write up if it came to that. Besides, he had already decided that it was a day to take a few liberties and break a few rules. After what he’d learned, he was sure that he’d earned them. Plus, he so rarely did anything that he wasn’t supposed to at that job; it would be alright in the end.

”Wait here,” he said to Svetlana, already waking away. He leaned over the little metal counter and stuck his head into the kitchen, where the two cooks were just standing around chatting, waiting for an order. ”Hey, uh, just keep an eye on the front for me until Hank gets here, alright? I gotta head.” Without waiting for their response, Matt walked over to the back room and grabbed his jacket and various items. He could hear the cooks grumbling, but he didn’t really care. Neither of them were trained to work the bar, but the place would be alright for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes.

As he approached the bar again, he motioned for Svetlana to follow him. ”There’s another bar down the street; I don’t s*** where I eat.” Ditching a little early was one thing, but ditching to go drink at one of the back tables was another entirely. He walked briskly toward the door, already digging in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes as he looked behind him to see if Svetlana was following.

They shook hands, and it was one of the very few times when Sveta could be absolutely sure that she was not going to cause an accident. It was such a simple thing, and yet, even with the guilt about messing up the guy's evening, she took a second to indulge in it.

>>”Matt. Someone has to freak me out eventually, I guess.”

Matt. Okay, they had names now. He looked jumpy, like he could not wait to get the hell out. There were ten minutes left of the hour, but he did not look like he wanted to wait that long. He walked away, saying something to someone, and returned with his coat and his things. Last time Sveta saw a guy walk out of a bar this fast, she ended up in his bed. But this was a vastly different situation.
She left money on the counter, and followed.

>>”There’s another bar down the street; I don’t s*** where I eat.”

"Why, you eat here?" Sveta smirked as they walked out. Now, off duty, he looked even more rattled. Pulling out a smoke. Sveta felt a familiar pang, deep down. Wherever he was right now, she had been there before. "This is not just the adapted aura, huh."

If it had been simply the revelation of having powers... that would have felt different. And if he had really been this upset about being a freak, the last thing he would have wanted was her company.

Did he eat there? Man, she really was Russian. Matt glanced back at her as he quirked an eyebrow and stuck a cigarette between his teeth. He didn’t smoke often anymore, but again, it was a day of allowances. He held the pack out for her for a second in case she wanted to take one. ”It’s a saying. I’m not going to sit and drink in front of my working coworkers,” he explained with a shrug.

"This is not just the adapted aura, huh."

Matt turned back to glance at her with a sigh, his hands busy with his lighter as he pushed the door open with his back, stopping just outside to hold it for her with the side of his foot. Did he go into his past? Scare her more than he probably already was at that point? No, that wasn’t something Matt said to strangers. Ever. They were both going to be vague, it seemed.

”No, it’s not just the aura,” he replied simply. He could care less about having powers; it was like he always said, actions defined the person. It wasn’t about the fact that he could do something, it was about what he had done with it in the past. He walked down the street, his eyes landing on the bar that was just a few buildings down. He knew full well that he couldn’t smoke inside, so he made quick use of the time that he had. ”I don’t know about you, but I’m up for drinking to forget.”

>>”It’s a saying. I’m not going to sit and drink in front of my working coworkers,”

Sveta sighed a little as she followed. She knew the saying, but she thought it was a good idea to try to joke, which in retrospect was probably mistaken. He was way too distracted to pay attention. He did, however, offer her a cigarette. Sveta had not smoked for years, honestly, but he was clearly grasping for things at this point, so she decided to resist the urge to join in. If the guy kept unraveling like this, she'd be holding his hair before the end of the night.

>>”No, it’s not just the aura. I don’t know about you, but I’m up for drinking to forget.”

Sveta kept pace. She was right; he had deeper issues than just finding out he was a weird version of human.

"Does that make me the sober companion?" she ventured "Because I'll need your car keys and your address before you get down to doing that in public."

Just him smoking. That was fine; Matt was pretty used to it by that point. It was becoming more of a social taboo than anything else, but it was something that he could never quite kick. He stuck both the lighter and pack in his pocket when she refused.

By the time that they reached the bar, he’d stomped his cigarette out underneath his foot and had started opening the door for her. ”Sober companion?” he repeated back to her, quirking his eyebrows. ”Up to you, but that doesn’t sound like much fun.”

Actually, nothing sounded like much fun to him in that moment, but he knew that he would rather have someone drinking with him than having to cover for him if he had too much. Besides, his apartment was on the subway line and he could pick up his car later. Worst case scenario he could call an Uber and suffer his rating dropping a bit. A day of allowances.

Once they were both inside, Matt took a seat at one of the booths and leaned his head back against it, staring at the ceiling for a minute. ”Sorry if I’m scaring you at all; this is... weird for me.”

They made it to the other bar in a short amount of time. It really wasn't that far, but it was a change of scenery, and not Matt's workplace at least. Sveta kept up, but it was clear that he wanted to get to some alcohol as soon as possible.

>>”Sober companion? Up to you, but that doesn’t sound like much fun.”

"Partially sober, then." she smirked. Not that she was very attached to the idea of babysitting the guy. But there was no need for both of them to get plastered enough for bad decisions, and he kind of had dibs on the bad day for now.
They found a booth to sit in, and he relaxed a little.

>>”Sorry if I’m scaring you at all; this is... weird for me.”

"Dude. Believe me when I say I have seen weirder." Sveta chuckled, shrugging off her coat "You wanna talk it through, or just get straight down to the blind drunk part?"

Matt had dragged some pretty girl along through his weird trip following the new information he had just been given. She was just some poor woman who had shown up while he was working, and while, yes, she was partially responsible for his current state, she really didn't have anything to do with the way he was acting. She didn't owe him anything, and she definitely didn't need to be the one babysitting him while he entered this state of being out of control. Usually, he was on top of his emotions; he was the one in control, save for his PTSD episodes. In that moment, though, it was almost like he was having an out of body experience. He was out of control, and he felt as though he was on some sort of caffeine high. There was so much inside of him. So much that it felt like he was going to burst.

Still, she was being a good sport, and Matt wasn't ready to be alone yet. Poor girl was just going to have to stick by him for the time being. He nodded, somehow guessing that she was just being nice. He drummed his hands on the table, glancing around to see if he could spot a waiter or a bartender willing to travel over to the far reaches of the booths.

He turned back to Svetlana a second later, having caught the eye of a waiter. Normally, he would have scoffed at the very idea of sharing his past with a total stranger, but that night, all bets were off. If she hadn't been scared off in that moment, then she definitely would be after he got going. Maybe it was good that she was a total stranger, though. What were the chances that he would see her again? Maybe it was a sign that he should just tell her and then be on his way, having shared it. But no, she wasn't a therapist. She was just some poor woman who didn't deserve to be dumped upon.

"Ask me again in a drink or two," he said simply, before turning to the waiter that approached them and ordering a round of vodka shots. Again, not his usual drink, but he figured it was best to keep things on the same track. Svetlana the Russian might appreciate it, anyway.

>>"Ask me again in a drink or two,"

"Oookay then" Sveta was not sure where to go with that. He ordered vodka shots. It could have been worse, he could have wanted tequila or something, but tequila was too celebratory for the occasion anyway. Sveta left her gloves on, even though she was sitting in his aura, and sat back too, contemplating the situation.

"You'll have to know how far your aura reaches. I guess six it's seven feet, but it's worth knowing exactly. Some mutants tend to freak out if I walk into it unexpected."

According to Svetlana, it was important to know exactly how far his aura reached. Matt nodded absently, not so sure that he agreed with that sentiment. What was the good in knowing just how far it reached when he didn’t care whether he had it at all? So far, it had actually affected him, what? Twice? It didn’t seem like it was that important to know the specifics.

Still, she was playing along with his crap, so he would do the same for her. ”Alright, so how would you find that out, anyway? Don’t tell me there’s some sort of empirical metric.” They were supposedly rare, but Matt didn’t know how much infrastructure there would be around ‘Adapteds’ as a species. Would he be expected to attend some sort of meeting? Would there be medical procedures? Well now he was just getting ahead of himself. It was easy to do that when you’d nearly lost track of yourself altogether.

The bartender returned a second later and dropped off four shot glasses filled with vodka. The minute they hit the table, Matt tipped one back and put the glass back down on the tabletop. Drinking just for the sake of getting drunk wasn’t something he had done in recent history, but the memories of doing so were still fresh in his mind. It was all resurfacing, reminding him of every little thing that had turned to sh** in his existence. The list was pretty long, too.

”You really shouldn’t have followed me in here. I might be terrible company,” Matt admitted, turning back to Svetlana. Who would actually want to sit across the table from some strange who was actively losing his mind? Someone who felt responsible, that’s who. For that, Matt felt a little bad. There were other ways to get drunk that weren’t just tipping shots back one by one. ”Know any ways we can make this a little less one sided? Drinking games or sh** like that?”

She could not really help much, but she could tell him what she knew, and she could make sure he was at least drinking himself to death a little slower. So she told him about the aura.

>>”Alright, so how would you find that out, anyway? Don’t tell me there’s some sort of empirical metric.”

"Well... you ask a mutant to stand next to you and then back away until their powers kick in. And then imagine that as a bubble." Sveta deadpanned. That was the only way to do it, really. The shots arrived, and she knocked one back the same time he did. She was two martinis ahead, but she was only beginning to feel the buzz.

>>”You really shouldn’t have followed me in here. I might be terrible company... Know any ways we can make this a little less one sided? Drinking games or sh** like that?”

"Drinking games?" Sveta arched an eyebrow "Like what, never have I ever?... I'm not spinning a bottle with you." she smirked. Oh well, it was not like she was going to tell the truth, and it was not like he was going to remember any of this anyway. "Sure, why not." she flagged down the waitress. "Can we just... get the whole bottle?" No one played drinking games with one shot, after all. That was a totally different game.

"Alright, you start."

It sounded like his abilities were pretty much just guess and check. Wonderful. Leaning back in the booth, Matt gestured away from the table toward the open floor. “I mean, if you want to tell me when you get that coffee buzz again, then be my guest,” he said. He still didn’t really care that much, but if she wanted to go through and make it clear where the line was, then he wasn’t going to stop her. She honestly seemed more interested in the fact that he was an Adapted than he did, though he figured that might be because she said she felt good in his aura. Probably another reason she hadn’t turned tail the second he started to act differently.

Svetlana was being an excellent sport, though. Never Have I Ever wasn’t Matt’s first thought when it came to drinking games, but he figured he was already deep enough in a hole here. Why not make it worse for himself? He merely smirked at her comment about spinning a bottle, though. Under normal circumstances, she would be interesting company.

She ordered the full bottle, which Matt had to agree with. There were still two shots on the table, but the chances were that they wouldn’t last all that long. Laying his palms flat against the surface of the table, he looked across at the blonde, his mind now concerned with thinking of something he’d never done. Yeah, this was a good distraction technique.

“Never have I ever been to Russia,” he admitted, starting off easy so she would have to drink. There was no way she was getting around that one. He waited for her to drink one of the leftover shots on the table while he accepted the bottle from the waitress coming toward them. He stuck the bottle between them, feeling slightly more calm than before.

Sveta had a pretty decent idea of how far his aura reached (she paid attention to these things), but it wasn't like she had a measuring tape. It was mostly trial and error, anyway.

>> “I mean, if you want to tell me when you get that coffee buzz again, then be my guest,”

"Maybe later. And then I'll write it on your hand with a sharpie so you remember in the morning." she smirked. The bottle arrived. The game was on. He seemed amused by the idea of playing and drinking, instead of just plain drinking. Maybe this would cheer him up, then. She allowed him to take the firs turn, knowing full well that he was going to make her drink.

>>“Never have I ever been to Russia,”

"Your loss." Sveta grinned shooting her vodka and refilling the glass. She did not really miss her home country, but it was definitely an experience.

"Never have I ever... gone to college."

Just like he thought, Svetlana had to drink when Matt went. There was no real way out of that one, considering she'd already admitted that she was from Russia. Matt himself had never bothered to travel there, even in his time travelling, he simply hadn't gone there. Still, it was on his bucket list. A one day thing. For now, he was content to simply watch Svetlana shoot the glass in front of her and pour her next.

"Maybe, maybe not," he said with a shrug, drumming his hands rather awkwardly before rearranging the shot glasses in front of him. His mind was doing alright, but he still had all this extra energy that he didn't quite know what to do with.

"Never have I ever... gone to college."

Matt raised his eyebrows and opened his hands, suggesting that he hadn't either. It was a little surprising, actually. He wondered what had made a pretty young Russian girl move to the states if not for school. He'd heard of mail order brides being something that some people would buy into, but he wasn't sure if he could see it. She wasn't wearing a wedding ring, either, so he wasn't quite able to connect the dots. Still, she hadn't gotten him to drink, so he was both winning and losing. In terms of getting black out drunk, he was definitely still losing.

"Never have I ever... been arrested," he said after a second to consider. It was a rather personal question, but he was hoping that he could get a little more out of her than the one or two word answers that she had given him so far.

He had never gone to college either. He looked like a smart guy, but maybe he was the kind of smart like Sveta herself - without a college education. Well, that was one shot wasted, then. It was his turn again. Sveta found that she was kind of curious what he was going to bring up next. The whole thing about "never have I ever" was that you learned as much about your opponent as they learned about you. If either of you was telling the truth, that is.

>>"Never have I ever... been arrested,"

Sveta grinned again, and picked up her glass.

"Do I take one for each time?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. Not that she had seen the inside of a cell too many times, but back in the day after she ran away from home, the police liked to pick her up occasionally. Theft, loitering, being a teen on the street... She drank the vodka and clicked her tongue. She did not owe him the details.

"Never have I ever... had a tattoo."