A familiar face? A familiar look? A familiar phone? Yes to all three, Bear found himself walking down a New York City street the night after staying with Calley, the Cat-Boy-Tiger thing. He felt he had a job lined up that would be pretty solid and was in the midst of negotiating for an apartment to call his own. Man, what an adventure he's had since getting to New York, his first night in New York, he met up with his childhood friend, Aris, at a Starbucks. The two moved through the streets of New York before getting jumped, defending themselves, going to the hospital, demolishing a wing of the hospital, running from the cops and then finally getting to Sanctuary for a little rest.

The next day he went job hunting and ended it with a tiger landing on him as he was heading back to Sanctuary. This tiger turned out to be a mutant who let him stay at his place then helped him to possibly find a job. And now on his third night in New York City, Bear has found a 'Mutant Friendly' establishment that serves refreshing alcohol beverages and decided he wanted to share his accomplishment with his best friend, hence the cell phone. Familiar numbers punched in with familiar tones and ringing from the phone after pressing the 'Send' button. Bear brings the phone to the side of his head with a smile, "Hey Aris, guess what... I might have me a job... You should come celebrate with me... Yeah... I found this place in downtown that's a 'Mutant Friendly' Bar, it's called 'Evolution'.... I dont know the address, you know my memory.. Just look it up in the phonebook or something... You cant miss it."

Bear smiles lightly, "Yeah... Great, I'll see you there..." He folds the phone closed as he continues walking down the sidewalk towards his intended destination. After a while, he sees a large building with 'Evolution' in Neon colors on top. His smile grows moreso and he continues on and into the bar, upon entering he sees a wide variety of people, from obvious mutants to people that could pass for human or were in fact human and just wanted to go to a place to drink and didnt care about mutants.

With a nod to a few of the patrons, for some reason Bear seemed to be in a really good mood, Bear moved across the room to sit down at a stool at the Bar. A man walks up, so cliched, with a beer glass in one hand and a towel in the other, shoved into the glass, cleaning it out or something. Bear smirks to himself having seen this in so many movies, before smiling at the bartender. "Yeah I'll have a... Whiskey... Straight up... On the rocks.." The bartender obliges and scuttles off to make Bear his drink, after a few minutes, the bartender comes back, drink in hand and slides it onto the bar in front of Bear who slides a $20 to him. "That should cover me for a couple drinks at least eh?"

"Yep, that'll do..." The bartender pulls the bill down under the bar and walks off to serve other patrons as Bear sits on his stool, drinking carefully from his whiskey, enjoying the brisk burn of the alcohol as it slithers down his gullet.

Meld found herself alone in her room at Sanctuary sitting at her desk sketching out plans for her new arm. Her short time in New York had been hectic to say the least, between being mugged and chased by the cops with her best friend Nick 2 nights ago, to stopping a theft, almost dying from blood loss and being chased by the cops again not long before that. She was starting to wonder if the whole cops thing was starting to become a pattern and thoroughly hoped not. For now, however, she had a rare moment of peace. Since coming to the city and finding her sense of purpose in life, Meld had been considering replacing her right arm with a new flesh meld and this was the first opportunity she had really gotten to sit down and begin working on the details. It would be a work of art, just as all her flesh melds were, and just a little experimental, allowing her the opportunity to work with a new material. Not to mention the fun she and Aura were going to have "acquiring" said material. She smirked to herself. Had to avoid the cops though. Definitely didn't want to add a third chase to her growing list, that wouldn't be good at all. Caught or not, the more often the cops noticed her the more likely they would be to notice her in the future. She wasn't exactly inconspicuous.

The ringing of the her phone interrupted Meld's thoughts. She answered, all ready half expecting it to be Nick, since she hadn't exactly given her number out to many other people and no one else was likely to call her at this time. She wasn't disappointed when she heard his voice on the other end. "Hey Nick...What...That's great...I would love to celebrate with you...Where is this 'Evolution?'...OK I'll look it up...I'm sure I'll manage to find it...Great...I'll see you shortly."

Meld hung up the phone happily, going out with Nick was always a fun time and it still seemed a little surreal to have him back in her life. She spent a short while getting changed, a little disappointed at her general lack of clothing, but then it had been a long time since she had last gone out. Finally she decided on a pair of tight black pants with chains hanging off of them and a simple black spaghetti strap shirt. Since this was supposed to be a mutant friendly bar she took no pains to hide her hand as she normally would. She also spent a few minutes spiking her hair before looking through the phone book for the address and departing.

The journey from Sanctuary to Evolution was uneventful. It took only a few minutes to flag down a taxi and the driver didn't seem to mind that Meld was a mutant. She made sure to tip extra generously because of that, figuring he was either a particularly tolerant human or a mutant himself. Either way, it was far too rare to be treated as an equal in Meld's opinion. Once out of the taxi Meld entered the building with the large glowing "Evolution" sign above it, taking a minute to look around at the other patrons. It wasn't exactly full but it didn't seem to be doing too badly for business either. Meld even spotted another visible mutant and she nodded politely in his direction.

Nick wasn't hard to spot sitting at the bar and Meld ran up to him and gave him a big hug from behind. "Nick!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. Only her best friend could bring out this side of her. "Ill take a wine cooler," Meld informed the bartender after getting his attention. She sat watching the crowd while she waited for her drink then turned back to Nick. "So, you need to tell me everything. You found a job?"

Maxwell was bored. The hotel room, small as it was already, seemed to be shrinking more and more with each passing hour. He had to block out the overwhelming urge to go outside by flicking through the channels on the T.V, hoping to find something that could rouse his interest. Nothing. Finally, he began to pace about the room, changing from being laid on the bed to sitting in the creaky wooden chair in the corner playing with his gloved fingers, or stood in front of the mirror and examining his graying hair. Then, out of habit, he took out his suitcase and rummaged in the bottom of it, searching for the money. He took out a large amount of dollar notes and counted out at least fifty dollars. He folded it up and slid it into his back pocket, leaving the room quickly before he changed his mind. He took his coat with him, pulling it on in the hallway before finally locking the door.

It was a short elevator ride down to the lobby and he was out pacing the streets of New York in a matter of seconds. When he reached the first set of traffic lights he faltered, before turning back. "Excuse me..." He asked the receptionist, smiling as large as he could. "But you wouldn't know if there were any good pubs around here?" The woman blinked back him, behind owlish glasses. She shook her head, but whispered to him about a small bar not from there.

Max thought about it and it seemed like an alright idea. He was unsure about any of the trendy places he had seen. The bar was called Evolution. Max realized that the receptionist had found him out... He briefly wondered how before he began to wonder what kind of place advertised its existence as a Mutant Friendly bar. A place that has more mutants then humans. He replied dryly to himself. So he made him mind and decided to head into downtown.

It was a good looking place on the outside. The sign made him smirk, wandering if there was an effigy of Charles Darwin in there. But he hesitated, a few steps away from the door. Obvious mutants walked around him, occasionally eying him to see if he was one of them. There was... a relaxed air. They were relaxed with being themselves. A pang of jealousy hit him as he wandered between these people. Someone of them were in groups, laughing with each other arm in arm. He walked into the bar, looking nervously around him before finally approaching the bar and sitting on one of the stools. The Barman looked busy, so Max began to look around the place with an interest.

Calley was sitting at the bar. Which was, of course, a bad seating choice. He could have foreseen that. In fact, he maybe probably had. And yet here he was, his back facing the bartender, arms on the bar, empty glass in one hand. It was empty, wasn’t it? He looked blearily over at it. Yep. Empty.

The bartender finally got to his order; the new glass got set down. Calley traded in his old mug for a glass of the cheapest thing on tap. It seemed appropriate.

He’d met Bear last night. That was fine. The interview was all set up, for soonish. Soonish... heh. When, exactly? He couldn’t really remember. That was okay. He remembered that he was trying not to remember something. It was something to do with something before he’d met Bear; with a woman with red hair. A Mansion counselor. What was her name? Stormy? No, something with an R. Weather-related, though. Raina? Yeah. That was the person he’d been talking to about—

Yeah. He took another long gulp of his drink. He’d been doing pretty good about not thinking about that. Bear had been an excellent distraction. So was... was this guy. Yeah, this guy. The nineteen year old Italian boy swung on his stool, and blinked baby blue eyes.

“Your hair...” He said, “Is very gray. At the tips.” He pointed to the roots of his own hair. Those were the scalp-tips, you know. “I like it. It’s like... pepper. But I don’t like pepper. It screws up my nose, when I’m not-so-human.” Another pointing. One of his eyes watered as his finger missed its target, just a smidge.

The teenager stuck out his hand. “I’m Calley. I think I’m drunk, but that’s okay. ‘Cause it’s a bar. And... And I like your hair.” A friendly smile accompanied this, and another swallow. To forget that he’d killed two men on accident, but his ‘brother’ had killed a whole lot more than that on purpose. And he hadn’t been strong enough to stop it.

Urk. Yeah, about that: bottom’s up. Dealing with your problems? Overrated.

Nick laughed lightly, patting the arm of his friend as she hugged him from behind, he then turned to look at her and his jaw dropped. A few moments passed before he was able to gather his composure and be able to talk. "Wow, you look great tonight Aris..." He felt his cheeks flush slightly with warmth and quickly took a drink from his whiskey before turning back to Aris. "Well, interesting story actually... I was out job hunting yesterday, as I said before I left Sanctuary... And at the end of the day, having no luck thus far, I was on my way back to Sanctuary to see you again... THEN! Out of nowhere this freaking TIGER falls on me... I couldnt believe it... A TIGER in New York city... So, after the falling with the tiger, I pushed up off the ground and got myself out from under it and kicked it... I know right, stupid move, kicking a tiger.... Only to find out the dang thing could talk and was actually a mutant... A uh... Cat-Boy-Tiger thing... It's hard to explain but you get the point..."

Nick paused a moment, taking another drink from his whiskey as the bartender brought over Aris' drink, "Put it on my tab... Anyways... So this Cat-Boy-Tiger thing eventually takes me back to his place here in the City where I ended up spending the night... And on the way he told me he might be able to help me get a job at this 'Human Friendly Book Store' I kinda laughed on the inside... Didnt want him to know too much about me... Told him my name was Bear even." Nick laughs lightly, taking another drink from his whiskey. "So... Yeah... We woke up... Then he called the person I was supposed to meet with and we set up an interview, without me even having to turn in an application... Kinda weird huh? He was being all nice to me and didnt even know me... I think it was cuz of this 'Mansion' he kept talking about... Every time I thought about that place I pictured walking in there with a bunch of people fake smiles on with trays of cookies greeting me... And somewhere in a corner was a pitcher of 'Red Kool-Aid'. It was weird..." Bear smiles and shakes his head thinking about that 'Mansion' and its Kool-Aid again.

Another swig of his whiskey and the corner of his eye catches the boy that he was just talking about. "Oh god.. I hope he didnt hear me... Hmm.. Sounds a little drunk, he probably didnt hear me..." Bear laughs nervously a moment before turning back to Aris and smiling nicely. "Maybe we should go over and say hi eh?"

Meld blushed at the compliment Nick had given her, unused to anyone complimenting her physical appearance, especially not her best friend. She took a small drink to try and hide her embarrassment. As Nick's story progressed she couldn't help but laughing. "A Tiger? In New York? And not in a Zoo?" Now that was certainly an interesting mental image. As was the image of it falling on top of her friend. She could see the whole scene play out in her mind, the tiger falling, Nick kicking it and then finding it it could talk (she assumed it could talk since it was a mutant) and was actually a mutant boy.

"I wish I could have been there," Meld said, grinning broadly. "And I'm so happy you finally got yourself a job prospect. You deserve it." She patted him on the shoulder in a friendly gesture and took another sip of her cooler. "At least you," she emphasized the last word, "haven't made a habit of running from the cops and getting shot at. You realize our little adventure the other night was the second time since coming to this city that I've had cops after me?" Her tone was incredulous but she retained her broad grin. With all of the running for their lives the last time they had been together, there had been so little time to actually catch up.

"Oh god.. I hope he didnt hear me..." Meld looked in the direction of the male who had caught her friend's attention. "Is that him?" she asked, quieter now and more serious, nodding her head in his direction. "Of course we should greet him. I've always wanted to meet a, what was that you called him, a 'Cat-Boy-Tiger thing?'" Meld grinned again. "Just be sure to call me Meld when around others. Few people in this city besides you know me as Aris."

When the bartender got close, setting a glass down for the obviously chilled out boy next to Maxwell's elbow, Max got the chance to order a drink. He paused for only a second before finally asking for a shot of vodka followed by a glass of coke. He waited patiently, tapping his crystal finger tips on the bar top (The sound was odd, like a tuning bell would make when underwater.) And suddenly, he felt someone looking at him. His own gray eyes slid from the many different bottles on the shelves behind the bar, staring at the guy who had began to spout things at him.

At the mention of his hair, he lifted his right hand and touched the 'tips.' Feeling momentarily conscious, he half smiled when he said he liked it. He picked up on the not-so human part and nodded once or twice, suppressing his urge to laugh when the Italian looking guy, no older then himself, jabbed his own eye. Maxwell looked down at the hand and remembered the name, just in case. "Hello, Calley." He shook Calley's hand and smiled back. "And thank you for the compliment about my hair." His drink arrived, and Maxi took it and nodded his head. "To getting drunk!" He swallowed the shot down, before taking a long gulp of the coke.

After sighing, so that he could breath again, he nodded his head at Calley. "Well!" He said, loudly, in his British accent (The vodka was tingling down his throat and had started to work already.) "That is what bars are for. So..." He waved his hand at the bar man, mentioning the shot glass. The second shot arrived much quicker this time. Max polished it off with the rest of the coke. He coughed once or twice, having inhaled a bit of that last one. "Maxwell..." He said, coughing slightly. He pointed at himself, his face filling up with warmth from the drink in his empty stomach. "My names Maxwell. But you can call me max. Or Pepper Hair. Whatever."

Fun! This was what he missed! Sneaking out of his parents house in the night to go out drinking. Not legally, of course, but there were always the few dodgy places where people didn't ask questions. Those where favourates... His eyes danced around the bar and he felt like he was at home. His new home. Amongst others like himself... Max paused for a moment, and realized he was still too sober. "Drink!" He called out to the bartend.

Fun. Fun was not what this was. Fun was being a cat in the arms of his First Retainer. Fun was studying in a library with Katrina. Fun was fighting off a zombie horde with Isabel. This? This was getting drunk, so he could wake up tomorrow with a pounding day-long distraction in his head, and ditch his finals. He was failing those classes anyway. And there was something about summer school in that letter sitting on his desk. Pssssh.

>> "To getting drunk!"

“Here here!” The nineteen year old heartily agreed, lifting his mug on high. Good thing the water level was so low, as it were—otherwise, there would have been spillage. Couldn’t have spillage. He took another swallow.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Pepper Hair Maxwell. Heh.” He grinned. “You would make a good pirate. What’s your power? Do you have a hook hand? ‘Cause I... I could be your... parrot.” The teen’s blue eyes had found Maxwell’s hand. “Oh,” he said, with clear disappointment. “That’s not a hook hand. Huh.” A moment of serious thought. Very serious. Then, a confident nod. “Pepper-Haired Glass-Hand Maxwell. I could definitely be your parrot.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone tall and vaguely familiar, in a blurry, sort of tilting way. Calley squinted at it. Then he perked up. “Look!” He said to his companion, pointing with his full mug. When had it gotten full again? Probably when he’d traded cups with the bartender. “It’s a Bear!”

"Alright alright, Meld..." Bear laughed lightly at her name even though it fit. "Let's go over there... He looks sloshed..." Bear slowly stood up from his stool and walked around the bar to the other side where Max and Calley were sitting. With a slight smile, Bear looked to Calley and pointed, "Meld, this is Calley, that guy I told you about... And this..." Bear turned to the other young man. "I dont know him..." With a laugh Bear opened his hand and extended it to the other rather young looking bar patron.

"Hey there, call me Bear... How're you doing this fine evening?" Bear smiled politely waiting for an answer before turning back to Calley. "Hey, dont you know guys your age cant hold their liquor very well? Oh wait... I think you know that by now..." Bear laughed lightly, patting Calley on the back, probably a big mistake but who doesnt make mistakes in a bar scene. "Sir, another drink please... And one for the lady if she needs one..." Bear lifts his empty glass into the air, signaling what he wants as he pulls out a bit more money and slides it onto the bar.

"Mind if we join you fellas?" Bear smiles lightly, pointing to the bar stools next to them. "My friend and I are celebrating my good fortune in meeting you Calley... Your helping to get me a job and all that... Really a good deed there..." Bear smiles lightly, thinking back to the conversations they had at Calley's apartment, remembering the way he was there and realizing why he was at the bar sloshed out of his gourd almost. "I bet if you tried to stand up, you'd fall flat on your face bud..." Bear looked over the young man calmly, agreeing in his head with the statement he made.

Meld laughed at the sloshed comment. He certainly did look it. She always made a point of drinking very little when she went out like this, not enough to affect her judgment or coordination, just enough to loosen her up a little. One never knew when one would need to have perfect reflexes. That, when it came to working with the types of people she had been working with over the last few years and the types of jobs she had been working the last few years, having lips loosened by drink was never a good idea. That sort of lack of judgment was liable to get you killed or worse.

Meld grabbed her drink and followed her friend to the area the other two were currently standing. She was curious to meet the Cat-Boy-Tiger thing not only because he was, apparently, helping Nick to find a job, but also because Nick had mentioned the mansion. This was the second time she had heard that particular place mentioned and couldn't help but wonder how it compared to Sanctuary.

Meld extended her metallic hand first to Calley and then to the, as of yet, nameless individual, careful not to accidentally sink claws into delicate flesh. "Hello, I'm Meld. A pleasure to meet you both." She accepted another drink from the bartender, vowing that this would be her last for the night then turned to study the two strangers, curious about the crystal hand of the nameless one. Now that was a material she had never considered using before. She wondered how durable it was and how easy it would be to work with. "Your arm is very impressive,"she informed him, not bothering to hide her interest. Of course, he probably all ready knew that. She restrained herself from asking the myriad of questions that flowed through her head about it. That would be rude seeing as how they had just met.

"So," Meld said, turning her attention towards Calley. Why did people drink so much that they couldn't stand up anyway? What if something happened and they needed to defend themselves? "I hear you're helping my friend to find himself a job. I'd like to thank you for that. I wanted to help but," she shrugged as if it were self evident why she wouldn't be much help.

Maxwell half laughed at the 'Here Here!' His drink arrived and he began to swill around, deciding to slow down a little bit. Especially now he was beginning to feel light headed. And the conversation turned to power. He blinked when Calley asked him if had a hook hand and half choked with laughter when he muttered about being a parrot. Then his eyes went to down to his gloved ha- Glove. His glove wasn't on his hand. It was in his pocket... His eyes darted to look up at the lights, on the ceiling. They didn't flicker. He watched them intently, nagging thoughts welling inside him. Why hasn't it started absorbing the electrics? He half heard Calley shout about a Bear.

The thoughts of his hand were pushed out his mind by the colors of the bar and the loud talking of people around him. His mind couldn't focus on anything. He decided to drink some more Vodka. Listening to the man, stood over him, say something about Bears and Hours, he blearily mumbled something, his eyes sliding back down to his arm. He flexed his crystal fingers once or twice. Max turned his attention back to the two... Oh, Three! There was a woman. He smiled at her for a moment before Bear asked about joining them. "Don't ask me! I'm just Pepper-Haired Glass-Hand Maxwell the Pirate. Ask me Parrot." He paused, for effect, before finally blurting out, "Aaarh!" Now this was very different for him. He was British. He should have a sensible head on his shoulders. And he should really stop ordering shots and drinking them like water. What was he on now... Sixth?

His attention was snatched away from his drink, by the woman the Bear had brought. Max smiled at her, trying to not sway, shaking her hand. He smiled when she said his arm was impressive. "Thank you. But I've got to put it away now. Before it acts badly." There was a sudden spark from overhead, but Max ignored it, pulling the long elbow glove from his pocket and slipping it over his left hand. He turned back to the bar, staring at three glasses of untouched coca cola.

((ooc: Ack! Sorry Maxi; misread about him wearing the glove. Obviously, I thought it was off. If I slip up again like that, feel free to ask for a re-write! It’s no problem.))

“I can too stand!” Calley protested, clambering to his feet. There was an interesting moment of balancing, but ha! He could stand. And he could walk. And he could... he could shift to tiger, and maul. He was good. Which meant that he still have a few more rounds coming. There was some kind of drunken joy to be found in having the Mansion get called to pick up his drunken rear. Or maybe he could wobble-stumble his way to the Sanctuary; been awhile since he’d used that bed. That’d show the Mansion, for assuming he’d actually keep showing up day-to-day. Yeah. Now if only he could be sure anyone would notice.

...Katrina would. He would be in so much trouble if Katrina saw him with a hang-over. She was thirteen, but she was a lot better at making him want to stay in line than the vast majority of the adult staff.

Kat was scary like that. Fortunately, he was about half a glass away from forgetting how disappointed she’d be with him in the morning.

>> Don't ask me! I'm just Pepper-Haired Glass-Hand Maxwell the Pirate. Ask me Parrot. ...Aaarh!"

He took another swallow, and plopped back down into his seat, motioning to the stools by them. “Sit! Drink! Slosh!” A pause, to mime his piratey captain. “Arrr!”

>> "I hear you're helping my friend to find himself a job. I'd like to thank you for that. I wanted to help but."

He didn’t get the shrug at first. A long blink. “Oh! Are you unemployed, too?” He took another swallow, and added, quite conversationally; “You have large metal chicken feet on your legs. You might want to get that checked out.” A glance, at the empty bottom of his cup. “Or I might want to stop drinking. Huh.” He wobbled his way to his feet again, and tentatively aimed to poke one of those metal legs with his foot. Just to, errr, check.

"Ok... I think I'm gonna stop drinking now..." Bear looked at his glass of whiskey and placed it down on the bar, sliding it away from himself as he looked on at the two youngsters who couldnt hold their liquor. "This is by far the weirdest time I've ever spent in a bar or with a drink in my hand... And I think you two have convinced me to stop drinking.." Bear laughs lightly as he sits down next to Calley, thinking about the night before and all the questions he was asked... And about getting backed into a corner.

"So... My Pirate guy with the Cat-Boy-Tiger-Parrot thing... Man I dont even know what to do with you two... Maybe I should have the bartender cut you off..." Bear laughs again looking at all of the empty shot glasses the boys had gone through. "Sanctuary? I thought you spent half of last night talking about how the Sanctuary was just a front for The Order or something like that and how all they do is kill... Why would you want to go there?" Bear realized what he had just said and quickly placed a hand on Meld's shoulder, making sure she didnt act too harshly towards the two drunken boys.

"Maybe we should get em home Meld... What do you think? Gah, how long have we been here? Not that long has it been?" Bear looks to his wrist for a watch and finds none, he then looks around the bar for a clock and sees nothing but neon signs for different Beer companies. He lets out a light sigh, feeling defeated before realizing he has a cell phone, which he proceeds to pull from his pocket and look to the time. "Hmm... Only a bit I guess.... But what do you consider a bit?" Bear grins lightly before sliding his cell back into his pocket and ordering a soda from the bartender.

Meld wondered what could be so bad in life that these two mutants would have to drink themselves into oblivion. It must have been pretty bad if this was the result, right? ...Pepper-Haired Glass-Hand Maxwell the Pirate... Now that was a bit of a strange nickname. Thank you. But I've got to put it away now. Before it acts badly. Now that brought up interesting questions. "Acts badly how?" Discretion in not asking questions never had been her strong suit.

Meld watched bemusedly as Calley made his way unsteadily too his feet. "Yes I am unemployed but I was fortunate enough to find a place to stay free of charge and I have my own way of making ends meet beyond that. She saw no reason to elaborate further. If they wanted to know more then they'd ask. Meld smirked at the chicken feet comment and stood there indulgently as the boy went to poke one of her feet with her own. She felt nothing, of course. "They are real, I assure you. Took me almost a month to design." She couldnt't help but be proud of her accomplishment and it was noticeable in her tone of voice.

"Ok... I think I'm gonna stop drinking now..." Meld nodded in approval, pleased to see that her friend shared her common sense when it came to drinking. It would not have been fun to have had to carry his drunk ass home. "You're not the only one who considers this to be something of a weird situation," Meld agreed with a light laugh. She took one last drink of her cooler placed the empty bottle on the counter, hoping that the two other mutants would take a cue from them and stop while they could still walk. She wondered, absently, if they would be forced to carry the two home to ensure they didn't get mugged on the street or something. That didn't sound any more fun than carrying Nick home...

"You should both really stop drinking now," Mel said firmly, even though she was probably no more than a couple years older than either of them. "Its important to know your limits and you have both gone way past yours." Meld gave Nick a quick look at the mention of Sanctuary just being a front for The Order. Order? What Order? She hadn't heard of this Order. She filed the question away for a time when the two of them were alone away from prying ears, taking the hint from her old friend.

"Home might be a good idea," Meld agreed. "It sounds like we have some important matters to discuss." She looked at the two drunk boys and sighed heavily. "We should probably help the two drunk boys get home first though. What they need is to sleep all of the booze off and they certainly can't do that here." She looked sternly at the two of them. "Are you two going to leave of your own volition or are you going to make things difficult?" Sometimes her new found dedication to the human cause was an irritant but it seemed like her responsibility to ensure that the two young mutants made it home safely. Hopefully after that she and Nick could talk.

Max watched the three glasses of Cola suspiciously for moment, wondering if they had switched places when he had his back turned. It wouldn't have mattered of course, but it was the principal. Then his attention shifted to Calley. He giggled, under his breath, watching the Italian boy sway on his feet. At the mention of the word Slosh, Maxwell raised his glass into the air and got cola in his hair. "To Sloshing!" He called out, before finishing it off. He thought he heard something about chicken feet, but put it off to having too much to drink.

Maxwell twisted on his seat, looking at Yogi (He giggled, once more, as he wondered what kind of name was Bear.) but suddenly scowled when there was talk of going home. "No! No Home!" He shook his head, feeling the Vodka getting to work on his very empty stomach. He should have ordered Bear... No... Beer. And then Meld. Meld. Sounded like Mel but had the D on the end. He was almost lost in his train of thought when she asked about his arm behaving badly. At this point, he shook his head and looked down at his left arm. "Erm... It could... Er... Stop someones pace-maker! Or... Er..." He paused once more as a memory came back to him, of his Father being laid on his back, in the library, his face bleeding. "Or crack some skulls..." He mumbled.

Talk returned once more to home, and of removal of Maxwell and his new Parrot-Friend. "No..." He whined, shaking his head. "If I were back in England, we'd be searching for a Kebab shop right about now. Or getting into a fight. Plus, I'm not going to tell you the address of the hotel I'm staying at, or tell you its called the Starlight Hotel..." He paused as brain cells flickered. "Oh... Dammit..."

Maxwell hated to admit it, but he really shouldn't have come out drinking without something to eat first. Maybe it was a good idea to head back to the Hotel... No! He wanted to stay out, not be kept in a room like a prisoner. "I think I'm going to have to make things diffick... Diffick... Hard." He rocked his head, wondering what was going to happen next.