It was weird owning a bar you couldn’t drink at. The young icemancer apparently owned a dive bar in the city. He hadn’t been there yet because he figured it would require some explaining however when he was called to fill in for the day manager who had to go to an emergency school meeting. Had he tended bar before? Yes, it was for a mission two years ago, he still looked young then but he found if you are overly confident at what you are doing people assume you belong there.

Sam had two rules, don’t drink them out of stock and don’t let the other owner drink. The other owner was a regular anyways so Sam figured he’d be seeing Old Sam’s partner. To think two drunks owning a bar. At least the place was making money. It was a mutant friendly dive bar located closer to some more popular places. This was the place people came to hide from the busy places, or to grab a drink by yourself.

With the bar top cleaned off the drill cleaned Sam wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do. He was told from the day manager that she took care of all the prep for food and the night shift kept a clean bar top. Meaning the icemancer had nothing to do really. He cracked a beer and stared at the television turning it to the history channel.

Surely someone was up for some day drinking.

Rayne walks down the street, silently angry at nothing.  Well not nothing, her tv broke today. Now, it wasn't out of no where, it was years old, very old, and she knew it was coming at some point, even if she didn't watch tv that often, but really it just had to happen when the game was on too.   Next best place to hit would be a bar since Rayne didn't work today and she didn't feel like going out to buy a tv and take all the time to set it up.  Game would be over by then.  


Rayne adjusts her sun glasses before spotting a bar that shows its open and heads towards it.  Not her usual spot, but for today it will do.  If it has a tv in it anyways.   Heading inside, Rayne pauses at the door step to take off her shades and hangs them on her lowish cut Brantley Gilbert shirt, though leaves her leather jacket on and heads towards the tv at the bar.   In her jeans, she cant fit her glasses in a pocket or they could snap.  No way is she snapping her Rays.   


Rayne takes a seat a few stools/chairs down from the tv itself, no need to be so close and looks over at the bar tender.  "You mind putting on the football game? Sydney is playing Gold Coast."  Its an Australian game sure but its playing on a normal US channel today, lucky her.  "Also a menu if you have food.  Corona too, if you will."  Might as well eat if they got food and of course beer for the game.   

Sam sipped the beer and tilted his head slightly to the entrance. He didn’t ‘see’ who it was but could tell from his thermal sense it was a woman. Setting his beer down and turning towards the woman that entered he offered a wave and then nodded his hand. ”Yo.”

Detecting an accent, not sure from where until she mentioned Sydney. That at least gave him some direction to the accent. ”Sure thing.” he grabbed the remote set it down on the bar and grabbed the beer. Twisting the top and placing the beer before her he pitched the bottle top.

”We do got some food.” Sam smiled, ”If the cook isn’t sleeping back there.” he called out. There was some muffled yelling in the kitchen, and a few pans shaking around. He didn’t know the cook long but apparently he too was a good friend to his older self. How they met and the cook was always dismissive of the subject but the clamoring in the kitchen meant he was up.

”We got food.” it wasn’t much but it was in his opinion as someone who was on the run for the last two years a solid menu. Bar food and breakfast foods. The main staples of anyone who likes to eat and lie low. Sam offered up the menu to her and turned towards the television grabbing the remote. ”I’m Sam.” he found the channel and changed it for her from the history channel. ”There we go.”

Turning towards her he then asked grabbing his own beer and taking a sip. ”Accent’s from where?” he asked curiously.

With his thermal check he could see that she ran a little hotter than normal people, most people think its just a fever though.  Who thinks someone always runs this hot?   When he ends up changing the channel to the one she asked for, Rayne nods at him.  "Appreciate it.  Tv broke earlier and I wasn't missing this game."


When the bartender yells towards the back, seeing if they are awake she guesses, and she hears a yell back and pots and pan banging around the next few seconds, Rayne is glad that they do have food here.  Not all bars serve food, least of all choices.   How many bars has she been at that only serve pretzels or nuts or cheesy fries.  What she wants is a bacon burger and when she is handed a menu that is the first thing she looks for.  


When he asks her where she is from, Rayne looks up from the menu to him.  She kind of figured with her accent and the names she pulled out for the teams and when she said football instead of the American name soccer, he could have guessed which continent she is from.  Then again some people just don't know her accent if they have never been there or heard someone from their speak before.   "Australia."

”What we are here for.” Sam smirked, ”Take it’s a big one?” he asked having a feeling it was or she was just a hardcore fan of one of them. Neither his younger form nor his older form watched sports, he’d play them but as far as watching them goes if they were on he’d glance at it otherwise he was usually oblivious to any form of sports fandom.

”Australia?” Sam repeated nodding his head. The accent did sound familiar but that might have been because he was in New Zealand recently and between the gunfire he might have heard some similar ones, however it was hard to focus on the accents over gunfire.

”That’s cool! I was just in New Zealand recently, for work,” Sam said trying to attempt small talk, they weren’t the furthest from each other and the last time he was in Australia was a few years ago again mostly he remembered was the missions.

”Let me know when you are ready to order.” Sam said grabbing his beer and walking a few bar spots down so it didn’t feel like he was hovering over her. He turned towards the television and watched the game for a second trying to recall the rules to the game.

Rayne was a fan of the sport, but she also played when she had the time that is anyways.  She gets competitive that she just had to stop playing for a while, plus moving here and needing to find work and settle down in one spot.  Plus of course read more about animals.    With all that going on she doesn't have time to look into joining a team, plus it is winter and Rayne hates playing indoor.   Real grass is best.    "Its a pretty big game, yes, though I am a fan of Sydney."


Rayne looks back at the menu for a few more moments before he lets her know that he was in New Zealand for work.  "Yeah? What kind of work do you do that brought you out there?"  Being a bar tender, or whatever he does here wouldn't bring him out there unless it was a convention or something.   "Also, I'm already ready to order if your cook is ready.  No rush."

”Business consulting.” Sam said coming the first thing that came to his mind. He couldn’t tell her he went to New Zeeland to rescue his former martial arts teacher from the organization that kidnapped him as a boy and trained him as a mercenary. ”Also to visit a friend who I haven’t seen in a while. One of the few times I actually enjoyed a work trip.” Po was indeed rescued and it was nice to cut loose. Being at the mansion full of mutant kids didn’t exactly mean he could let loose with his powers or skill set one of those was heavily frowned upon at the mansion.

”Yup, consulting.” he said sipping his beer. ”and no problem. He’ll be ready,” Sam then started to yell back to the kitchen, ”To cook, which is his job.” a loud single burst of laughter could be heard from the kitchen. His older self hired the guy not this Sam so he could crack jokes.

”And your name miss?” Sam said turning to the computer and punching in her order. Turning toward her and raising the beer to his lips he looked from her back to the game. ”What brings you to the city?”

"Going on a trip for work while also being able to see an old friend, got to love when it works out like that, yes?   Makes it less boring and not all work and no play."   Then again if she knew what he actually did and was doing, she wouldn't be saying that.  "What do you consult about?  Beer?"   Gives him a half grin, so he knows she is joking with him before glancing at the menu again.


Rayne holds back a laugh when he and the cook joke with each other.  That's a good work place.  Not all serious all the time.  "Bacon burger, onion rings, bbq when hes ready in the back."  Assuming the burger comes with lettuce and tomato and cheese she doesn't add to it.   


Takes a sip of her beer glance at the game, seeing it is about to start since the anthems have finished before looking back at him.  "Rayne.  I'm here for work.  You are?  Don't really want to call you bartender all day."  

”Yeah.” Sam agreed with her, he knew the ‘yes’ was a rhetorical one but he still felt like he needed to agree with it. ”I could use more work I feel like most of the time it’s all play.” Sam said summing up his ‘trips’ any time he ‘borrowed’ the jet or flat out used it, it usually led to a good time. Well at least what Sam considered a good time most people would consider it a serious operation but you don’t get raised as a mercenary without enjoying the little things. You got to enjoy it otherwise it’s just depressing.

”Bacon burger and all the fixings.” Sam said as he repeated the order back as he punched it in the computer. The second he typed her name in and hit send the sounds of pots and pans could be heard moving in the kitchen. At least the cook was up so Sam didn’t have to go back there.

”Rayne. Pretty name. Second favorite type of weather.” Sam said snow was obviously his first choice but she wouldn’t know that. ”Sam.” he said again thumbing his chest with his beer in his hand. ”You could probably get away calling me anything you want. Not like you’d be talking to anyone else. Slow day.” Sam said joking.

”And private sector security.” Sam said finally finding the closest thing he could come up with. ”That’s what I more of a generic umbrella of the consulting I do.” it was all business.

”What do you do, Rayne?”

"If you can find a job you like to do and it doesn't feel like a job at all, like a chore, then keep that job.  Those are hard to find.  To do something you actually enjoy doing and can find the fun in."   She was stuck in a job that's he absolutely hated at one point before she became a tattoo artist.   Now she loves going to work.  Well, when the client sucks and is rude as hell, no, she hates her job. 


Rayne glances at the tv when it kicks off and takes a sip of her drink.  She knows for a fact she will be ordering more drinks during this match and depending on the game itself, how it plays out, it will depend on how much she has to drink.   This burger and rings are going to be great.  Well hopefully the cook doesn't burn it. 

Rayne grins at him.  "Well its not spelled like the weather, but I'll take a free compliment any day."  She glances at the game to see her team kick the ball at the goal only to have the other teams goalie save it with a dive.   That would have been a great early goal for her team to take the lead and draw first blood, but nothing is that lucky, not with these two teams.  Rayne looks back at him and nods.  "Nice to meet you Sam and I think I will keep with your name or bartender for now thanks."  Chuckles at him.  


Rayne takes another sip of her beer and nods once.  "Security must keep you busy huh?"  She isn't going to pry into his security detail since it can be very broad but it doesn't stop her head from tilting to the side slightly like an animal would do if it was curious about something.   "Ah me, I work at a tattoo parlor a few blocks from here."

Teaching was his true passion seeing the ‘ah-ha’ moment of a kid when then finally learns to block a punch or throw someone across a room with a throw. However right now he only had one student. He wasn’t as lucky as his older self who had dozens of classes full of kids but he was working his way there. Sam figured once everything started to settle and he got used to being whatever age he was now he’d try asking for the job again. Not like they fired him for saving the day and becoming young again.

Sam grinned, ”Well that’s great. I usually have plenty to give.” Sam said smirking sipping the beer he had been nursing. He looked behind the counter to see if there was much more to clean. There wasn’t, he did everything he needed to do for the day he was just waiting now to get out of there.

”Sam or bartender it is.” he smirked watching the missed goal. It was a close one. Shifting his glance back to her, ”Too busy sometimes, and with all the shifts I got to cover here.” he sipped his beer. ”Just glad I get to be outside sometimes.”

”Not all bad when you own the place though.” he said shrugging he could always just hire more people. Hopefully they didn’t quit, move or deage like half of his staff seemed to do. At least all the reliable employees stayed on. Well reliable enough to know to call him if they were going to miss a shift.

”Tattoo’s huh? Pretty awesome. Hate needles… soooo much.” he said shaking his head and sipping his beer uncomfortably. ”But I always wanted to get another one.” Sam smirked. ”Super cliché but I wanted to get one as a prank on someone.” Sam said grinning setting his beer down and touching his tricep. He rolled his sleeve up, ”Was thinking a heart with my code name in it.” he chuckled.

Rayne rolls her eyes in good nature at his smirking.   Always at the bar, the bartenders, male or female have to flirt.  Probably get better tips for it most of the time, specially if they are hot.  Now Rayne tilts her head at him again in confusion.  "Wait hold on a minute...you own the place?  Yet you are covering so many shifts you don't have the free time?   Why not hire people?"   


At the tattoo parlor when someone applies each of the workers there give the artist something to sketch out and color with pencils like you would a tattoo itself, layering the colors.   They want to see if this person has what it takes to tattoo and if they can giver the clients what they want or if they will fail.  After that they go through a trial period with easy clients and tattoos along with grunt work before getting assigned to someone in the shop so they can be trained.    It takes a while and not a lot of people can do it. At least for this shop with their standards. 


When Sam states that he hates needles Rayne has to laugh.   "Oh man, if I had a dime every time some big macho guy came into the parlor wanting a tattoo and told me that they hated needles...I'd be rich and never have to work again."   She takes a sip of her beer and shakes her head.  "Dont tell me you got your first tattoo in a basement by a friend...or did you go to an actual parlor?   Whats your original tattoo if you don't mind me asking?  And code name?   You guys have those in security?"    Some things were not adding up with that and Rayne was getting suspicious that it wasn't actually security but something else.    

The young icemancer shrugged he had a full team right before the de-age now between kids getting sick (unrelated to the de-aging), people deaging and just a few people quitting because they were taking on too many shifts the iceberg lounge was running a tight ship. ”Yup, I own the place.” he said grinning his hand iceing over before he used his powers to chill his beer before drinking it. One of the reasons he loved the name so much. ”Put a help wanted ad out but, kinda hard to hire people when you look as young as I do.” he shrugged and smirked.

Some people didn’t mind working for a young Sam. His day time manager and night time manger were fine with it, his cook was fine with it. It was just everyone else. It was harder to hire when you looked as young as he did and all the people that decided to quit were more worried he wouldn’t be able to handle the job. Joke was on them. Iceberg despite it’s slow period now had never done better. Crazy what happens when the owners aren’t a buncha drunks drinking out the stock. It also helped that young Sam made ever one pay for said drinks.

Sam turned and lifted his shirt up till his tattoo was visible. He didn’t like showing it often but he found the more honest he was the less like his older version he was. ”#602” Sam read allowed. Clearly it wasn’t something that he picked out, he still remembered being held down when he was a child unable to get free unable to use his powers to protect himself.

”Let’s just say my last tattoo artist didn’t have the best bedside manners.” he said shrugging. He didn’t like dwelling on his past too long it would just piss him off the more he thought about it.

”Rime,” he nodded his head, ”I’m one of the X-men.” he said as he stopped when he heard the bell. ”Order’s up. Hold on a quick sec.” Sam said as he walked back to the window took a look at the food and decided it was good. ”Now get back to sleep before more people start showing.” he called back to the kitchen jokingly before he set the plate down in front of her.

Rayne's eyes flash to his hand when they frost over to cool his drink down, eyes flickering an emerald green for such a split second that one might think they didn't see anything, before she stiffens then forcing herself to relax.   She doesn't have a problem with mutants, no she doesn't, but when they flash them in the open like that it always puts her on edge.  Never know who could be watching and associate you with that person.  Specially when shes trying to fly under the radar from those people.   "You are pretty young, I have to agree.   Are you even old enough to be in this bar itself or have that beer?"  Shes going to play it a but cool for now....no pun intended. 


When he lifts up his shirt and shows her the tattoo that hes got, once again Rayne stiffens.   Straight up numbers, nothing else.   Either its in memorial to a friend or date or something, or its worse than that and she wasn't goin to ask.   What really made her stiffen though is all the scars on his back.  A very low growl rumbles from her throat, her eyes now straight emerald green and cat like.  No one should be beating on a kid like this.   When he turns back around though, she closes her eyes quickly and controls herself before opening them and they are normal again.     When he calls himself an X-Men though, Rayne looks towards him with almost animal like intensity.  Now that.  That she was not expecting.   


Rayne takes a sip of her beer while he goes to get the food and glances at the tv to see her game again, seeing nothing has happened still and looks back at Sam when he returns.  "Appreciated."  She waits a second or so before deciding to go with her thoughts. "I'm going to assume your mutation has something to do with Ice from what I saw with the bottle a few minutes ago."   Takes a sip of her beer before going to work on her burger.  Putting an onion ring on top of the meat, some ketchup and bbq as well.  Just making it how she likes it.

”What you came here for right?” Sam said responding to her gratitude. He always appreciated it when people were polite but he never knew what to say when he was bartending. It was kind of his job.

”To answer the question before, yeah. Might not look like it but I’m totally old enough for this beer.” he said debating if she was going to try carding him for some inspection. Or if she was a cop. He could just flash his Police badge if he wanted as well. ”Old enough for a few more too.” the icemancer said with a little laugh.

”Rime.” Sam agreed and thumbed his chest. Sam lifted his hand up and willed some ice to coat it. ”Ice related but yeah. Ice is me.” he said. ”Hopefully you don’t have a problem with me being a mutant. This is a mutant friendly establishment.” he folded his arms the ice vanishing as he held his beer.