"Cheesus Christ on a cracker what tha hell is that?" Des muttered to himself as he tilted his head up to better scent the air. Whatever it was it smelled like death, a thing Des was all too familiar with, and it made his ears twitch. It wasn't a smell that he enjoyed, in fact it was a little repulsive to the cat mutant.

What to do?

This was a civilian infested area and dead bodies meant bad things in these kinds of situations. He wasn't an x-man yet, he hadn't even properly gone to the Mansion to ask for a job, but it didn't mean that he didn't feel compelled to look at the situation. Civilians could get hurt, obviously someone had been hurt to smell that foully of death, and he had enough expertise to at least go find the damn corpse and call it in. A simple plan, a good plan, grocery shopping could come later after this. Not like he'd lose his appetite seeing a mangled corpse or two.

Tracking the scent he weaved through the crowd, ears perked forward as he hunted. Not his favorite kind of hunt but one he'd done before, though the former SEAL had done it in the service under other conditions. Now he was praying that no one started screaming. Minutes passed and he could have sworn the scent was moving. Great, it meant someone was transporting a dead body in a shopping district. That would be the cherry on his day.

"Tha hell?" It was obvious now the scent was moving and going towards the intersection up ahead. Fueled by a morbid curiosity Desire sped up his pace to intercept the stupid ass person who was willing to transport a corpse during daylight in a marketplace. When he finally got to his destination he swore in three different languages.

"Lady not ta be rude, but why tha hell do ya smell like a corpse?"

Reanimating was always.. interesting to say the least. her favorites were mob hits with cement shoes.. nothing like hopping your way up a bank in the darkness with immobile. This time it was a simple shot in a abandoned building and left, amatuer hour. Unfortunately her clothes were a few sizes too big and obviously male. Not her style one bit. It also wasn't the freshest corpse judging from the smell emanating from the clothing. It did have people giving her a wide berth all the same. It worked for her.

Well until now, some bystander had guessed what the smell was and about to make her day that much harder. She recognized most of the languages someone swore in. She went to talk and a low rasp came out instead, oh yeah breath first it helps. New bodies always needed some breaking in. A huge heave of breath pushing up her ample chest in the process then expelled a bug with a cough before turning to speak at the man, eyes glowing a dull impatient orange. She considered for a moment lying then said F#$% it internally. "Cause I am? Haven't had a chance to take a shower yet. You always in pastels or is this a phase you're going through?" Just as curious as he, there wasn't a trace of mocking in her tone and only mildly curious. The crosswalk had turned to white then orange again and she swore to herself in french. 

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I just woke up from a bit of a nap and I am cranky, with no gun, smokes, money, or clothes that fit so unless you'd like to help or at the bare minimum talk and walk I will have to chuck you into traffic and keep going." She even managed to make that sound almost playful. 

"Phase that's lasted since birth sugar." Des replied not at all batting an eye when a bug came out of her mouth or the low rasp. The main thing that had bothered him was the smell, now that he had ascertained that she was a minor threat then he relaxed his guard enough to give her a half mad smile.

Laughing at the non joke Des kept his toothy feral grin and began moving with the flow of pedestrians. "Wouldn't do a thing ta me sugar. Traffic would go through me like a bad Mexican dinner through a Midwesterner." Still he fished in his pockets and pulled out his cigarettes, offering her one before pulling out his lighter. He wasn't about to give the strange corpse woman money when he had no job yet of his own to provide for himself. Living off savings in a longstay hotel wasn't fun but it was his best option at the moment as he simply took in New York City to see if he could handle the hustle and bustle.

"Desire McGee at yer service ma'am. Rake, scoundrel, and annoying as hell cat." Lighting a cigarette of his own he kept his disconcerting gold on black eyes on her, not quite relaxing enough to let the woman go out of his sight. There were limits to how much he'd let people take him off guard. "Ya been dead fer long? Or have ya just risen like Imhotep and are searchin' fer yer long lost love?"

"Eh tough break in some ways and good in others. Bet your not some sheep like most people." The tone was complimentary to that regard. Ignoring his manic smile in favor of crossing the street when the opportunity presented itself. 

"What vivid imagery, it would still accomplish removing you from my immediate area if you irritated me." Ah a cigarette? Well ok maybe she wouldn't throw him into traffic just yet. Taking it and waiting for a light before stuffing it  between her lips at a jaunt in the meins of an experienced smoker. "Stuff will kill you someday you know." Now it was her turn to grin, exhale, long draw, inhale. It wasn't quite the same as when she was alive, but the remembrance and the act it was almost good enough. 

"Your parents must have hated you, Desire really? And aren't all cats annoying?" Not that she was much of a pet person being all dead as it was. Her topaz eyes were searching for something, mostly in the alleys. "Long enough that question has run into the old territory. Young enough to get that reference. Ah here we go." Smacking a hand against his chest probably harder then intended and ducked into an alley. A teenager was waiting casually for nothing in particular and Remy muttered something like amatuer.

"Whatchu got kid." The 'kids' nose crinkled a bit at her smell but was obviously used to untidy customers. "The usual. You and your man want to party?"

"Oh that sounds nice, maybe if you give us a good deal you can party with us." Giving a manic giggle and reaching out to caress his face with a dirty finger. The kid obviously suppressed a shudder and moved over to a nearby dumpster and opened it op to pull out a backpack. As soon as it was clear she kicked out his legs and smacked his head into the side of the dumpster leaving it dented. Patting him down she fished out a wad of cash and took it and offered McGee some then cooed as she pulled a piece from the back of his pants. "Score!" Standing she opened up the backpack and dumped it out into the dumpster then tossed the pack in with it.

"Kinda new in town anywhere close by to get cheap clothes? Then a shower?" The redhead inquired with a grin of her own.

"Got nine lives sugar, ain't nothin' gonna take me down." He replied with a grin. 'Um had hated the fact he had taken up smoking as a recruit, but even his mother's disapproval didn't stop him. There was something cathartic about smoking, time passed easier with a cigarette in his mouth. Time was a problem with Des, it passed too quickly sometimes or far too slowly. The only things that made time work right at all were smoking and dancing.

"Papa picked out my first name. He's a bit peculiar 'n wanted ta have a kid that everyone else would envy. So he named me Desire fer what I shoulda elicited in others. Jokes on him, cats are abominations against God. Adorable abominations but abominations nonetheless." That reminded him that he needed to check out the local shelters in the area to see if they needed volunteers. Animals got Des and Des got animals. It was a feral thing.

It was good when his nerd references were acknowledged. He had spent many lonely hours watching terrible movies and playing video games when he wasn't dancing or doing work. A kindred spirit of sorts seemed to be found in the foul smelling woman. At least until she went for the drugs.

Des kept his face impassive as she began the deal. Dead woman doing drugs wasn't really a crime in his book. Some people had needs and it really wasn't like it was going to do her any harm. That's what mattered to Des. So long as your choices didn't hurt you to death then he was fine with it. Not like he would've done much good in trying to stop her.

Then she surprised him. Taking out the drug dealer quickly and cleanly he grinned a newfound confidence in his new companion beginning to take shape. Des was a good judge of character and he liked this crazy ass lady a lot now. Taking the offered cash he pocketed it. "You former military too?" He asked with confidence, having a gut feeling she'd say yes to his inquiry. "That gun looks shitty, all flash no substance. What's with criminals nowadays, yanno? At least get a gun that will murder yer target properly."

Laughing Des made a decision. It was admittedly a stupid decision but it was his decision nonetheless. "I got a shower in my hotel room. 'm new in town as well, lookin' fer a job, 'n don't got a permanent residence. I bet if we head ta Chinatown that ya can get good shit cheap. Whaddya say?"

"That's what they all say." She shot back around her cig then shrugged. It wasn't the deads place to tell the living how to live their life after all. "I'd say peculiarity runs in the family. Better then being some vanilla though." 

Interesting individuals and getting to meet some of them made being dead bearable sometimes. Almost made her feel alive in the old sense of the word.

As the drug dealer was settled with she gave him a shrug. "Feels weird to talk about my alive times, but i've spent a fair bit of my dead time as a mercenary." That much she was willing to share. Glancing to the gun she shrugged and tucked it away behind her loose pants before pulling them back up and shoving it into her pocket. She wouldn't be the only woman with a bulge in this city. 

"If it goes bang I can use it, but your right all bling no sting." Half grinning at McGee cause she refused to think of him as Desire. "Motel shower works for me, saves me from breaking in somewhere to rinse off the worst of the death stench. Tell you what I will pay for a ride back to your place if you let me borrow a shirt and some pants?" Smirking as she had already made him a decent haul today.  

"Mercenary is good, ya just seemed more professional about yer ass kickin' than most. Take 'em out without any fancy footwork." Des decided not to pick at her alive time. If it was in the past then it was in the past, no use bringing up what could be unpleasant memories. It'd be like her poking around about his scar if he had declined to tell the first time around. Some things were better left buried.

"Sounds like a fair deal ta me. Yer gonna have ta get tha cab though, folk don't like ta stop fer me. Meybbe they're just shy o' my good looks?" He said teasingly as he tilted his head in mock seriousness to show off his features. It wasn't to say he was bad looking, he was handsome enough even with the scars and catlike features, but he was very strange looking as well and he knew it. Well people who didn't appreciate his good looks could put it in the suck it bucket as far as the former SEAL was concerned.

Growing up as 'other' his entire life made Desire have a strange sense of self confidence. He was a beautiful person and anyone who thought otherwise could eat dirt, he loved his tanned skin and cat ears. He loved his gayness and his nerdiness and his varied interests. There had been a time when he hadn't been so self confident but with the help of a supportive family he grew to accept and love who he was. No one in the world was like him and that was probably for the best as the world probably couldn't handle a second one of him.

"Just ta warn ya I got tha girliest scented soaps 'n lotions. Got an old highschool buddy who does all this organic naturalistic stuff. I just wear it cause it smells nice 'n it used ta bother my CO whenever we were on base. 'McGee you're a SEAL not a highschool girl waiting for her prom date'. Used ta keep perfume in my drawer fer mission reports. Just ta let 'em know it was from me."

There really wasn't any better way to respond to her words then an appreciative grunt. So he was military too, or ex-military at least. Explained why they clicked half decent. Most people didn't the straightforward brutal efficiency of her life. This guy might. Scars an unpleasantness aside it was turning  out not to be the worst reanimation day she'd had to endure. 

"Really?" Dirt smudged half her face and all her clothing was dirty and about three sizes too big. Who ever died must have been a broader and bigger guy, a bit of stretched plastic was the only thing helping keep her pants up. "I wouldn't kick you out of bed for eating crackers." She noted with a snort and a shake of her head. Corpse girl or cat guy, maybe they were screwed either way. Whelp only one way to find out. 

"Oh? well that will be a change from wet soil or gun oil, and in your case are you sure you don't mean an ex instead of a highschool buddy?" Finding that a far more probably likelihood of course friends weren't exactly in plenty in her unlife.. "Least the purple suits you fine that way. Here I was thinking I found a plumber right away. Don't suppose you could just call me Rick instead and make do eh?" Grinning at him just as equally madly as he had earlier. Shrugging she stepped dangerously close to the street and waved a hand a t passing cabs. Ah! A promising target. "Stop! Ruken!" The turban clad fellow stopping almost out of curiosity from one who spoke his natural language. She gestured at McGee and crawled into the back and across the street her pants drooping to give him a decent look at the top most part of her butt before she plopped into the seat. "Jee shukriya. He will tell you the address." Rolling down the window on her side just a bit as she knew how she must smell at the moment. Her eyes looking somewhere very specific but off in the distance.

"Don't got no exes so ta speak. Where I come from even tha liberals don' wanna date such an obvious mutant." It wasn't a sore spot, but it wasn't a good one either. Desire had never dated anyone before, not because he didn't want to but because he was too wrong to be boyfriend material for anyone. Then there had been the twelve years under Don't Ask that had really put a crimp on any potential dating. So he was thirty and never had a boyfriend but it wasn't so bad. He'd gotten to have one nighters with very drunk and curious boys in his teens and twenties.

Raising an eyebrow at her Des just mutely shook his head in amusement. Nope not calling her Rick today. Which reminded him that while he'd introduced himself she'd failed to do so. "Soooo what's yer name sugar?" He asked, wanting to know at least even a lie so he had something other than Rick to call her in his head. She was going to borrow his clothes in the most unsexy manner of the idea.

"Thank ya." He said gratefully when she rolled down the window. Politely he'd tell her that she smelled like shit, rudely he'd tell her in detail what kind of shit she smelled like. Keeping his mouth shut on the matter of how foul she was to him he settled for rattling off the address of his hotel. It wasn't too far from where they were to be honest a twenty minute walk at the most and a five minute taxi ride (if the traffic wasn't the hellish congestion that New York traffic was known to be). When they arrived Des practically dove out of the taxi, taking in the fresher air like a dying man. He didn't have to put on his mission mode face, he could emote just how foul Remy smelled to him without barfing.

Leading her to his room Des didn't even bother to notice the strange stare he got from the front desk manager as he passed by with his guest. That was unusual since the man had seemed unflappable when Des had first started coming and going from his room. Now he didn't notice the man discreetly dialing the phone behind his back, far more focused on getting Remy to his room. Once there he opened the door with a flourish and a bow. "Bathroom is there, toiletries are all in tha bathroom, don't got no razor. I'll pick out some clothes fer ya. Use as much o' my shit as ya need ta not smell like death."

Her face wrinkled a bit, not even exes. "Well crap once we get me all cleaned up we could hit a gay bar or something. Gets those pipes cleaned out good." Giving a far friendly smile now then she had initially. Mutant life wasn't easy, even worse for the people who actually looked like mutants. She'd heard New York was more lenient in that regard, but she hadn't been in the area long enough to find out.

Had she forgot to introduce herself? Whoops she had been rather single handedly on the hunt for money, clothes, a gun or cigarettes. Three out of four in as many hours wasn't bad. "Remy, we ain't on a last name basis yet kit kat." She wasn't about to apologise that wasn't her style. Heck she'd probably forget his name anyway. The silence was sort o eery. Then she realized it was because Desire was sucking in air from the window like a fish slurping up water. She gave him a little shrug and as they got out of the car she just laughed as he dove out. A little wink given to the manager as they walked by. It seemed he was finally ready to speak once they entered the room.

"Hey now, you talking like that is almost offensive. It is mostly the clothes I swear. This body got a bit ripe before I took it over and there is some people juice soaked into the clothing and stuck on my skin and hair. Imagine how it feels wearing it. I will take you up on that offer though." Shrugging out of the clothes as she walked, it wouldn't have mattered if he was gay or not those clothes were coming off and if he wanted to look he could. Body modesty isn't exactly huge except for some of the more extreme groups she'd been around in the middle east. Bouncing into the bathroom and the shower was full blast as hot as it would go and the scalding water rinsing off the gross. 

"What kind of job you looking for?" she called out as she grabbed a washcloth and dumped a healthy dollop of body wash on it and started scrubbing away.

"Nice ta meet ya Remy." There were some manners beaten into his thick kitty skull. His mother and father had had a time of teaching him respect, but when he learned it he learned it. He could do manners when he chose to and he chose to at this moment. It was the extent of his manners though as he practically stuck his head out the window of the taxi to get air.

"I'm an affront ta God, everythin' I do is offensive." The cat man quipped with a grin. Well it explained the smell despite Remy looking so healthy. Being a gay SEAL meant nakedness from a fellow soldier didn't phase him. Not that he'd been phased as a teen either, not with his powers making him naked whenever they were activated. He'd had shame carved out of him young and while he looked at Remy like she was an interesting piece of art, he felt no lust or wanting towards her. Letting her get to his stash of vanilla jasmine toiletries he wandered over to the kitchenette area and began to rummage around. He had tea and he had alcohol. Not much of a selection but it was something.

"Lookin' ta try 'n be tha dance instructor over at tha X Mansion. Just haven't gotten 'round ta askin' fer it yet 'cause-" He was cut off by a sharp rap on the door. Ears twitching Des turned and headed to the opening. "Hold up someone's at tha door." He warned Remy as he cautiously peered through the peephole. Two uniformed police officers looked tense and wary on the other side.

Swearing loudly in arabic Des opened the door with narrowed eyes. There had never been a time when the police had come looking for him that something had gone right. "Yes?" He coldly asked leaning against the doorframe in a faux relaxed pose. "We're sorry to disturb you sir but we got a report that possible prostitution was happening."

What the f### was going on now. A dance instructor? Other then the military how stereotypically gay could this guy get? The toiletries did smell nice when she bothered to remember to inhale. It was a curse you couldn't smoke in the shower.. wouldn't that just be heaven? A shower beer was doable though. "Kitkat?" She heard voices and stepped out of the shower, body still covered in suds and shampoo. Where was her gone? Oh right. Poking her head out the bathroom her eyes narrowing at what she heard. 

"Now just wait one damn minute.  Nothing against prostitutes, but I've had plenty of fun in my day and never paid a cent for it. With looks like these you think I would need to?" Glaring at the patrolmen as she stalked forward. "Second, can't a pair of war buddies get together in this day age without assuming anything. Didn't bleed for this damn country to get harassed by you too chickenshit to fire a gun in anger. Lastly instead of staring with his mouth open like a pair of guppies waiting for their boss to happily crap in their mouths he is rather bored and uninterested with my angelic looks. Check the rather lack of a bulge in his pants if you don't believe me. So.." She slipped into a voice every military person heard going through training that still made oldies snap to rigid attention in fear, one of a training instructor. "IF YOU DONT GET THE F*$# OUT OF BY THE TIME I FINISH MY SHOWER I'LL HAVE YOUR BADGE AND STICK IT UP YOU A@@ SIDEWAYS DO YOU READ ME?!" 

With that she perfectly about face back to the bathroom and slammed the door, not letting the men get in a single word in her tornado like arrival and disappearance.

Des was as stereotypically gay as most men were stereotypically straight. He loved musical theatre, dancing, good food, being catty in more than one sense of the word. He also had crushed men's still beating hearts in their chests and snapped necks, not to mention eating raw snake and getting covered in literal shit to hide from enemy forces. Des was just Des, a strange man who could pirouette and kick your face in all at once.

There was something special about Remy when she assumed that HE was the prostitute at first go rather than she. He was offended by the insinuation by the patrolmen but warmed by Remy's defense. It was something of a breath of fresh air not to be thrown under a bus for once and actually defended by someone who was a relative stranger. That was it, Des was in love. He was going to marry this woman. Just because he was flamingly gay didn't mean much, not like tons of guys were beating down his door to have a go anyway.

"Ya see officers I ain't prostitutin' myself 'n neither is she. We're just buddies catchin' up." Des explained in as level a voice as he could manage. He was still somewhere between highly amused and extremely pissed off, but he kept a neutral poker face on. "I better go clean up tha mess now, so excuse me." He wanted to tell them to fuck off but it was likely not the sort of thing that being a potential instructor of small children would do. It was a careful balance now of doing what he wanted and being a goodish role model.

Closing the door on the police felt good, not letting them get any more words in to try and question him about why he and his friend were doing what they were doing. As a gay minority mutant he didn't trust the police as far as he could throw them. He only trusted his fellow soldiers to keep his back and not shoot him for doing something as innocuous as stretching. He moved deeper into the room where he kept his clothing and selected a pair of sweatpants and a plain dark t-shirt. Nothing fancy and nothing he'd miss if Remy decided to not return his clothes later on.

"Thank ya fer bein' pissed off." Des called out into the bathroom. "Ain't used ta not havin' ta go with tha patrol officers to tha prescient 'cause I look too suspicious."

Remy hadn't meant to insinuate anything about anyone. Mostly she just wanted to prove to the officers they were dumb as all hell and neither of them needed to pay for sex. Des was an attractive guy scars and all. Some people wore their scars on the inside and were harder to suss out. It was a refreshing change of pace. Still she didn't like anyone in her vicinity being harassed by anyone , but her and she certainly wasn't about to let the cops have a win regardless of what country she was in. 

With a generous helping of the shampoo to get all the streaks and death smell out her eyebrow perked as he heard his voice again. "Null sweat chummer." Chuckling a bit to herself at the obscure reference. "People are just jealous of your rugged good looks." Rolling around in the water one last time to ensure all the suds were off before killing the shower and grabbing a towel. It was more awkward to talk through the door then speak to him naked so she exited the bathroom and shrugged at him. 

"Let's just say I hate cops and assumptions. So do I pass the smell inspection now soldier." Her voice ending in a sultry purr as she gave a rather acceptable naked pirouette before grinning at him impishly and throwing the shirt over her head. "Sweatpants really?" Glancing over at his hips then hrming softly. "I suppose it IS probably the most acceptable fit. Though if you tell anyone you saw me in sweatpants I will kill you." A far more feral smile indicating that was basically a promise as she plopped onto the edge of the bed to pull the sweatpants on.

"Don't suppose you have some alcohol in this joint? Nothing gets the taste of reanimation out like something strong."  Arching a red eyebrow at him before continuing. "So definitely some clothes for me, then what you want to do Kitkat? Any plans?"

"I know right? I look sexy as hell." Came the confident reply from the confident man. He liked how he looked, odds and ends and all. No one else came close to looking like him and it was something of a relief to stand out amongst so many similar looking people. "Ya smell less like death now. Sugar the difference between my hips 'n yer hips are pretty significant. Ya got more ass than I do too." He pointed out, not phased by the threat to his life. She wasn't joking, well she was and wasn't all at once as far as Des could tell. Still it was no skin off his fangs to keep a secret. Lord knew he had enough of them to fill a regular person to insanity.

"Want moonshine? My bitch beers don't seem like they'd amuse such a refined palette as yers. Tha mooonshine is smooth 'n shit but it puts most people on their asses." He said as he immediately began to hunt for his bottle of illegal moonshine. The scent of sweet mint filled the room when he poured two generous glasses of it to serve, finding comfort in being able to play host to his new friend.

"Gotta go grocery shoppin' can't live off takeout 'n 'm out o' shit in tha kitchenette. But I can put it off 'n do somethin' more fun. Like dancin' hot stuff?"