He stepped out of the shop with instructions to send the rest to the Hilton. He was refastening his silver chain around his throat, nimble fingers deftly closing it, and tugging at the cuffs of his shirt, ensuring a good fit.
It's nice, he thought, to wear properly tailored clothes again. No need to slink from airport to airport, dodging this or avoiding that. Not that New York doesn't have it's share of anti-mutant sentiments.
Anthony stared hard at the sign across the streets. 'No Loitering, No Pets, No Mutants.'

The walk back to the Hilton was another of Anthony's many indulgences. Fresh air, exercise, and peace of mind. Well, 2 out of three isn't bad at all.
He saw a few other mutants brave enough to be out on foot, though not many too drastically obvious. He tried to strike up conversations here and there, but failed to start up anything meaningful, they were mostly keeping a low profile. Not feeling up to pushing his luck, he wandered into a mostly empty bar, McCollin's Hole.

"Well, my hairy friend, what brings you here so early in the day? It's a might bright outside to be seeing someone dressed like you in a place like this?" Anthony stroked his chin, and decided not to answer. The bartender likely knew, and was being polite. Lucky choice of bars, or maybe they were all like this, who knew?
"Well, answer or not, it makes no difference to me. I'll be warning you, though, we don't serve fancy drinks in here. We have beers, ales, stouts, porters, lagers, and liquors. And I'll be needin to see some ID. Anything with a photo and a date of birth will be fine, so long as it's not too obviously forged." Anthony obliged him.
"Whatever you'd suggest, I think will work for me for now." A tall glass of something dark was placed in front of him, and Anthony handed the man a 50. "This will do for now, but I might be ordering more. Tell me when that's done. What's your name?" "Duncan O'Toole, McCollin's Uncle. Just moved here from Ireland. You don't look to be much of a native yourself? You've got a look of jet lag and money, but not of trouble."

Anthony smiled, little sharp teeth not bothering Duncan in the least. Maybe there was something to be said of the man who didn't even look twice at a mutant. Anthony took his drink in hand, and sipped a little. Very dark. Very good, if not his usual fare. He settled in at the bar and relaxed a little. A nice, quiet afternoon in a bar, some light drinking, might be just the welcome back from the West Coast to New England that he needed. Nice, quiet welcome semi-back.

Never having been in a bar before, especially in New York, Xavia was hesitant to pass o’er the threshold of said establishment. Hell, she didn’t even fit in a place like this bar, but she was getting cold, and she had found a wrinkled, $100 bill on the side of the road. First thing she had done was to buy herself something other than a stolen, gingham dress to wear, and opted for jeans and a knit sweater from a secondhand store.

Lucky for her, the jeans fit like a glove, not too tight and not too loose, but showed off her assets just fine. The outfit was probably in style a few years ago, but she didn’t care. A jean jacket and some worn looking boots completed the outfit that she now appeared in. And lucky for her was the fact that her natural, flora scent overpowered the mothball smell that often accompanied thrift store clothing, because she was stepping over the threshold of the door by then and wouldn’t have liked to be looked at funny because of the way she smelled.

Unfortunately for her, she had no ID on her except for the temporary piece of paper that replaced the one that became missing in the accident that brought her life to a standstill in the city that never slept. Hopefully, because it had the official New York marks on it, it would still fly with the bar tender. If not, it wasn’t that big a deal, as she disliked booze and preferred to drink water anyways. A nice glass of brandy would warm her up, though, before she had to seek shelter elsewhere.

The unusually beautiful 26 year old ignored the stares of the people that filled the bar, resisting the urge to pat at the dark mass of gleaming, and finally clean, black hair that covered her pate. Indeed, she moved toward an abandoned stool at the bar, not making eye contact with anyone but the bar tender, whom she presented the paper ID to, and asked for some brandy, if it was alright, or water, if not...

Stress had added up in Sara's life. Even though she had been doing her best to take things in stride. Through the months she had employed a strategy for dealing with the different problems. Her sight that would randomly abandon her, leaving her blind. The shootings and general explosions that were directed at Luke. The mistery of the guns that weren't even supposed to be made yet, spilling over onto the street, in none mutant friendly, gang hands. The upcoming trip Sara would be taking with the Kabal, to Romania. The busyness of Sara's life, had long since started verging on hectic. It had only taken her a year, and she had found herself not only involved in plans of protection, secrets, and mysteries, but conspiracies. Call it a cat thing.

The only way to really get through this mess of messes that she had managed to get herself into, was to take it one step at a time, and the current step was relaxation. The current goal was some relaxation. Sara selected a quiet bar for this. Ruling out the ones she found herself miserable in where the tables were so close together you had to scoot through sideways and prey your tail side didn't bump the person sitting in the back of the head, Where bad music was spurting through the speakers so loud you had to scream to let the person next to you hear what you were saying, and the people smelled like BO.

Sara selected a place that was completely opposite. It was quiet, the seating arrangements were spaced out nicely, and the place even had a pleasant smell. Like flowers without the usual smell of soap that most cheep air fresheners have.

As Sara stepped through the door way her long coat, was pushed to the side by the light breeze from outside. Showing off, for a minute, her animal shaped legs and cat feet and the black cargo slacks that had been rolled around her knees so when her legs bent enough, she'd stop tripping all over them. A dark red top, fit over her slender shoulders and frame under the long coat and her hair fell loose around her face when her head tipped forward. She was an obvious mutant, who as of lately, chose not to hide. That still didn't mean that she liked knowing just anyone was looking at her.

She expected having some difficulty getting service, however when she sat at a stool at the front of the bar, the bar tender showed no fear.

"What'll ya' have, Miss." The Bar tender asked while he tended to the needs of another young woman at the bar. Sara glanced at her, sniffing at the air absent mindedly. She couldn't pick up a normal human sent and even though they had met before, Sara hadn't been able to see. Sara simply placed her face in a dream she had a few months before.

"Just a Coke." She answered turning her attention back on the bar tender.

"nothing special?"

"No"

"What are ya. Chicken?" He teased as he finished off the order for the other girl.

"I simply prefer the taste of coke." Sara smiled, flashing only the tips of her pointed teeth. "I could drink all your customers under the table and never even feel a buzz. So why sacrifice taste, when there is not benefit?"

The bar tender nodded then began filling Sara's order. Mean while Sara took a minute to look around the rest of the place. Spotting another obvious mutant. At least she wasn't the only one to stare at.

Anthony watched as the simply stunning young woman walked into the bar, a little hesitantly. Anthony was a little taken aback, in fact. He expected someone who looked that good to be headstrong and full of herself. He was considering getting up and introducing himself when the bartender looked concerned about something and hesitated.
Underage? She doesn't look underage. When the bartender slid her a brandy, he stopped worrying and straightened his collar, intending to introduce himself again, when someone else walked through the door. Anthony had a few thoughts, all of which grounded him to his seat and set the him on edge. A cat, no, a lioness walking on two legs, with that same headstrong gait he expected of the other girl. And dangerous, to boot. When she sat down and began to speak to the bartender, he heaved a sigh. Bits and pieces floated down the bar to him. Something about coke and tables. He leaned forward a bit to see her smile, a pair of pointed teeth showing from between her bewhiskered lips.
Yeesh, he thought, that is one tough customer. But she doesn't look afraid to show herself, maybe she wouldn't mind talking! Perhaps I'll make a friend... or she'll call me a rat and try to eat me.
He looked down a little further and thought about the good looking woman too. Perhaps...

Anthony stood and wandered down the bar, drink in hand, about 2 seats past the cat and 3 seats before the girl, sat down, and smiled at both of them in turn. He would try to strike up a conversation with both of them!
It's only fair. They are both quite pretty, he glanced at the feline, in their own way.

"Bartender, each of these young ladies next drink is on me! So, my pretty young things, how are each of you doing today?"

At first, Xavia did not pay attention to any but the bartender. All she was concerned about was getting warm, it seemed, for she took up the brandy and handed the tender some money. She had the glass tumbler poised at her lips when she heard a male voice from a few seats down. Not sure that he was speaking to her, she glanced over toward him for a moment. Caramel eyes settled on his face, and she did not seem shocked that another mutant spoke to her, even as she had a completely human appearance at the moment, but simply stared at him for the time being. Not saying much of anything, she took a sip of the brandy and looked passed him toward Sara. A perplexed expression crossed her face as she saw the cat-woman from her dreams, yet again.

She nearly spit out her brandy, and shuddered with the effort of not doing so. A hand is placed over her throat as she awkwardly held the tumbler with the other hand, and mumbled a soft “Hello…” It wasn’t a dismissive sort of hi, it was a timid sort, mostly because of Sara, who had a bad habit of making Xavia think she was hallucinating. Surely the man did not see the were-cat sitting two stools down from him; surely Sara was just a figment of her imagination.

She vaguely remembered the cat woman being in the same infirmary as her after she woke from her coma. But those were crazy times, and yes, she was kind of cracked in the head, but not so cracked that she didn’t know the difference between hallucinations and actual events. The girl was lost in staring at the figure from her dreams until she shook her head and stumbled toward the far corner of the room. The fact that she mumbled to herself as she picked up the pace to put space between her and the other female, loudly enough for others to hear of course, “Not seeing this, she is not real… ~mumble~” only seemed to confirm that she wasn’t running off from the male.

It wasn’t fear in her eyes, only a clouded confusion and that telltale pucker of the eyebrows that accompanied the confusion. As she huddled next to the wall, she cradled her brandy to her with a white knuckled grip, the color somewhat ebbed from her complexion. If there was a window near her, she simply stared out of it and absently ran her finger along the rim of the glass, reflecting upon this odd turn of events.

Every once in awhile, she would swing her gaze back toward the male for a moment, and then look toward Sara with that perplexed look of hers.

Sara received her class of coke and pulled the paper top off of the straw. Wadding it up between her fingertips when the male mutant came forward. It was nice of him to offer to pay for Sara's second round of cola, but the suspicious side of her nagged her in the back of her mind. The suspicious side never shut up and Sara forced the thoughts to the back of her head. Choosing to enjoy her free time, while she had it. Reminding herself that she liked conversation, and telling herself that if he wanted to strike up a talk, it would be good for herself to indulge.

She looked over her shoulder at him, nodding, and turned on her stool so that she could lean one elbow on the bar, but still face him. Though the other girl was rude about the greeting. In fact she was just rude, in general, in Sara's opinion. "I'm doing alright." Sara said as she watched the other girl choose to get up and walk away from them.

Sara's amber eyes drifted from the young gentleman to the other girl he'd ordered a drink for. What the other girl had mumbled reached Sara's sensitive ears as she walked, and Sara had tried to ignore it but the ignoring only lead to frustration. Sara was to really real. For someone to say that she wasn't was oddly something that stung her more than what people normally did.

She slipped off of seat and closed the distance that were the two stools separating herself and the male mutant. "Thanks for the next round." Sara said. Her eyes shooting back to the other female. "My apologies for her reaction." Sara said as she nodded to the other young woman. "It seems it is true that some people have such loose grips on reality that they don't know when it's staring them right in the face."

But oh no no no Sara wasn't going to let the girls mumbling words bother her.... as much as they could.... and anger her.... as fast. "And I am real Miss."

Anthony was beside himself. He had introduced himself and neither of them were warming up at all! The feline one had chastened the whimpering one. This would not do. He drained his glass and motioned for another one. During the intermediary lull, he spun himself around on the stool to face the other direction, elbows on the bar. When the cat moved closer, he noticed that she was quite good looking herself, for a cat. Yes, quite a good bar, indeed.
"Well, it's my pleasure, both of you. You know, I'm not the best judge of character, but it seems to me" he looked sidelong at the woman in the sweater "that you should work on your manners a little. And you" He glanced at his companion-en-fur "might want to realize that not everyone is used to us. Mutants are becoming more public, but we aren't exactly common. But, that's all behind us, I say! I am Anthony Davids. I just blew back into New England, and I'm thinking of staying in New York a little while! Umm... Are you okay?" He kept an eye on the muttering girl, as he spun back around to grip the drink the bartender set down.
"Maybe you aught to slow down a might bit, luv? You don't look hardly big enough to fit in my pocket, much less drink well."
Well, this IS good stuff! he thought, staring at the glass. I'm already talking too much. Might want to take it easy myself. Not even tipsy yet, luckily, but too much more and I'll be well on my way.
"Well, Duncan, sir, just what IS this stuff?"
The barkeep chuckled, a deep and sonorous sound like an echoing drum. "That is a stout straight from North Ireland, blended with a hint of Scottish Whiskey. Scots-Irish." He moved down to the other end of the bar to take a glass as a patron walked out, and Anthony glanced again at the ladies on either side of him, the feline in the seat to his left, and the pale woman.

What she pictured herself doing (lol!!!):

Her manners were bad? This sentiment angered her, something inside of her snapped between both mutants chastising her, and she set the glass tumbler down gently on the table in front of her, before slowly pushing out and standing with her chin raised a notch higher than usual. “I will tell you what is rude, sir…” Emphasis on the last word, and she slowly stalked her way to stand directly in front of Sara, looking at her with fierce eyes while continuing to rant to the mongoose man, “Rude is when someone is sleeping a long sleep, and dreaming a pleasant dream when some random cat woman shows up and pesters. RUDE is when someone wakes up, and that same cat woman is in the next bed over in the infirmary, in a strange place that she did not ask to be. And RUDE is when that same cat woman seems to follow someone like a PINK ELEPHANT. Sure, she may be real, but how would SHE feel if some person decided to follow HER around out of their dreams and mess with their heads? That is rude, dear sir.”

Then she swung around on him with arms akimbo, “I tell you what else is rude, SIR. I said my hello, and I walked away so I would not get into trouble with… with…” She sliced her hand through the air in a firm gesture toward Sara, “with this woman here, because, HEAVEN FORBID, I say something to insult her because I THINK SHE IS A HALLUCINATION! And you… Granted you offered to pay for one silly little drink, it does not give you the right to waltz around and chastise me like I am a simpleton or a child because I CHOSE not to get into an altercation. THAT is rude. And furthermore, Sir, you think that I have never seen one of you freaks before?!” That is when she stalked over to her chair, stepped on it and onto the table, standing on the thing as if it were a stage. Sure, she was making a fool out of herself, but she couldn’t feel any lower than the two had just made her feel.

Xavia tilted her head back and gave it all she could give. Her skin turned a vivid green, real fast, thorns popping out, leaves unfurling, tiny little roses popping out at random, and the scent of said blossoms overpowering the bar. “I AM ONE OF YOU FREAKS!”


What she REALLY did:

Her manners were bad? This sentiment angered her, something inside of her snapped between both mutants chastising her, and she set the glass tumbler down gently on the table in front of her, before slowly pushing out and standing with her chin raised a notch higher than usual. She was about to tear into them with what she imagined she was going to tear into them about, and then she promptly sat down, and looking directly and grumpily toward the mongoose man, she tilted her head back and drained the brandy from the tumbler, then set it back down in almost exactly the same spot where she’d retrieved it from.

“You have a nice day, the pair of you.” With that, she simply stood up and walked toward the bar, slapping another bill down to get a full bottle of brandy. Then she pointedly looked toward the other two mutants, produced a couple of roses from the palm of her hand (the whole thing turning green in the process), plucked them, and tossed them at their feet. “Before you get angry with someone for their own assumptions, do not be a hypocrite and assume things about someone, yourself.” Which was directed at the both of them, and then she turned to look at Sara, “I suppose I shall see you around, what, with you showing up unexpectedly every time I turn around or close my eyes. Perhaps I was a bit hasty in assuming you were a hallucination, but put yourself in my shoes.”

She turned around and scooped up the unopened bottle of brandy, and started to head toward the door, her natural scent of roses catching the nostrils of everyone who sat in the bar. Sniffing indignantly, she tried to stay calm as she stalked toward the door, opened it, and moved out to sit next to the stoop and against the building itself. She opened the bottle of brandy up, and for the first time in her adult life, intended on getting crap-faced drunk.

Anthony looked from the flowers, and back up at the girl walking out. He looked at the feline female next to him, and down at his drink.
"Damn it, that's not what I meant." Anthony looked up to the bartender. The bartender had affixed Anthony with a stern look, not moving or saying a thing, just staring at Anthony.

"Yeah, I know. I know. Damn. Damn. DAMN." Anthony jumped up and started for the door. He stopped, walked back, pulled another 50$ out of his wallet and placed it on the counter. He looked at the cat and said "Stay cool, I'll see if I can get her to come back. Please?" Being rude had caused enough trouble.

Not waiting for an answer, he started for the door, walked back, grabbed and took a sip of his drink and said "That is, unless you'd like to come along?" He grinned at the cat woman, honestly not sure of himself for once.

Oh oh oh OK lady's and gentleman. Boys and girls. I have some new materiel for you tonight. Get this. Three mutants walk into a bar:

The other girl came over and gave her two roses. Sort of like giving her two cents. Sara's right furry eye brow had risen above the other slightly when they popped out of the other girl's hand and when she tossed the flower at Sara's feet, Sara's hand swooped down to catch it before the petals kissed the floor. She then moved the flower to just under her nose and twirled it between her fingers as she breathed in and out.

As the girl was talking, Sara was mentally kicking herself for mistaking the girl's unusual smell for perfume, or air freshener. She should have recognized her before without the aid of her vision, that she hadn't had when the girl and her had officially met in the real world. That still didn't change a thing about how Sara felt about the girl's most recent actions. She was not a figment of someone's imagination. She breathed. Her heart beat. She was real.

How dare this girl think that she could get her two cents in without allowing Sara the pleasure of presenting her own. The bar tender was shooting Sara and her companion a dirty look, and Sara shrugged at him then dropped her glare. It wasn't any of his business so why should he feel the right to judge them on the current situation. Still. If that was the complete fact, why couldn't Sara look him directly in the eye at the moment.

"Stay cool, I'll see if I can get her to come back. Please?"

Oh yes. sara could stay cool. Cool might as well be Sara's middle name. Sara Cool Nobes. Sara was a cool cat.

That is, unless you'd like to come along?"

"Of course." Sara said as she pushed away from the table and strolled to the door. Pushing it open and holding it for the gentleman. It didn't take more than two seconds for her to find the other girl with her full bottle of boos. She apparently thought the conversation was over. HA! It wasn't over till Sara finished talking

So Sara started the conversation back up before anyone else could. "Excuse me Miss." Sara said as she walked over, however stopped short by about 6 feet. She didn't want to invade the other girl's personal space. she didn't want to look like she was being aggressive, even if a minute ago she felt like punching a wall. She didn't want a pity party either, so she tried to keep what she had to say general, but she would be heard. "Hey, first off. I try putting myself in everyone else's shoes every day, just to try and understand, and get by and I'm so tired of trying to fit into things that don't actually fit, both in reality and figuratively. I'm sure you both can understand that." Sara glanced at the gentleman. Her right ear twitched, but she dropped some of the harsh look to her eyes.

"And as for showing up in the dream word stuff, I don't know what triggers it, and I don't do it on purpose." That was the fourth time that dream stuff had happened to Sara and she didn't understand if it was her own mutation that triggered the shared dreams, or if it was another mutant's influence on her.

Sara glanced at the male mutant to see if he wanted to start his two cents (Not two flowers) or to see if she should continue.

This is the story of a girl, who opened a bottle of brandy and was minding her own business when two thorns in her side came out to greet her on the stoop of the bar. This girl was already in a sour mood, and these two entities decided to try and talk to her again. Well, now, the girl listened to what the cat woman had to say to her, the only visible sign that she heard the lady, being the slight tick in her jaw and the lifting of one eyebrow.

When Sara was done saying her piece, Xavia calmly stood up and took a large chug of the brandy without giving a shudder as the amber liquid burned its way down her esophagus. She then decided to make it a point to be rude, and belched, then said, “Ahhh… Rudeness… That is what I was basically accused of… Why, I just thought I would make honest people out of the pair of you.” Then she turned to Sara and said, “If you put yourself in peoples shoes as you say you do, then you would realize that I made an honest mistake, and there was no reason to talk to me like I am a simpleton. However, I chose to walk away, and that offended you? Pshh. I hope you are quite done making me feel tiny.”

She took another swig, and was obviously bolstered by the alcohol in her system. It was obvious she was a lightweight and that she hardly drank, and she wouldn’t have said the words otherwise. People act stupid when drunk, and she was no different. She wasn’t drunk enough to be impaired in movement as she was in judgment though…. Yet….

She started to walk away again, her back to the two as she propped her shoulder against the corner of the building and continued to drink. She was already a quarter of the way into a fifth sized bottle. For someone who didn’t drink, that was a lot, and she showed no signs of slowing down either.

He'd left his drink in the bar. The feline held open the door, and they strode out.
She hadn't been hard to find, not many people running around in a sweater and jeans carrying a bottle of brandy. She hadn't wandered far, just a few buildings over. She cut an interesting picture, right out of a bad 80's after school drama. In fact, she looked rather like Ally Sheedy, though more attractive.
Right down to the sweater. Though Sheedy wasn't a mutant. Maybe. Anthony resisted the urge to chuckle at his private joke, he didn't want to insult anyone more then he had.

He was a few steps behind the cat, since he'd wanted to start in the other direction, but she'd proven wiser (not the hardest feat) so she had the initiative in the conversation. Which was wise.

"Hey, first off. I try putting myself in everyone else's shoes every day, just to try and understand, and get by and I'm so tired of trying to fit into things that don't actually fit, both in reality and figuratively. I'm sure you both can understand that."

The feline glanced at him and- Hrm? Just like a real cat, her ear twitched at something? She wasn't quite glaring at him anymore (Does she do anything but glare, I wonder?), so what did that mean? Cat's moods could be judged by their tails! Anthony started to look, then stopped and stared straight ahead. Staring at this cat's tail might end badly. Clearly he had something to learn about cross-species body language?

His thoughts on the matter lost him a chance to interject, hesitation of a pregnant second was all it took.Everything went south. Again. The rose girl affixed them both with quite the scathing look. Anthony resisted the urge to hide behind a lamp post or trash can or something else handy.

“Ahhh… Rudeness… That is what I was basically accused of… Why, I just thought I would make honest people out of the pair of you. " The cat was squarely in the gaze, now. "If you put yourself in peoples shoes as you say you do, then you would realize that I made an honest mistake, and there was no reason to talk to me like I am a simpleton. However, I chose to walk away, and that offended you? Pshh. I hope you are quite done making me feel tiny.”

She walked away, Anthony mentally stunned for another second. Which was good, this time. The girl- The ROSE girl- leaned against a wall, back towards them. And kept drinking. Wait... By gods, she's a quarter way into that bottle! She's little more then a wisp of a thing! Anthony panicked a little, and placed his hand on the cats shoulder, stepping quickly to take the prerogative this time.

"I think what McCavity here" Please don't eat me, pretty kitty..."is trying to say is... Well, honestly, I'm not sure, you both lost me at dreamland. Umm..." He'd come just within his own arm reach, barely close enough to brush her with his fingers if he were so stupid. "I'm sorry. I... I'm very good at not taking life seriously. So I forget to take other people seriously. What happened in the bar, it was an honest mistake. I'm..."

Anthony stared at his hands. He wasn't sure why, but he felt down right morose. I went looking for mutants to talk to, and boy, did I find conversation in spades.

Shamefully, Sara knew where the reference, Macavity, came from. Though she could give the man credit for one thing. He was cultured, and there for could through a nick name at her that she hadn't been called before. it was better than fluff ball, or friskies. Sara settled for crossing her arms and letting her tail twitch while the gentleman tried to ease things back into being civilized, though he seemed to get lost on his progress that way, or how to continue his progress. Had he even been making progress?

The gentleman trailed off on what he was having to say. Mean while the other girl was continuing to make herself $h!t faced, and as Sara breathed in the air, the smell of her alcohol was becoming heavier and heavier. Sara doubted even thoughts without an exquisite sense of smell would be able to pick her out of a crowd based on the building stench that was emitted by what she drank. Add that to the fact that part of Sara's personality and who she was, was very preditory like, and could pick out the individuals that were starting to have more trouble compared to others, and she could tell the girl was consuming alcohol too fast.

Concern crept onto her feline face, mixing with her frustration, and made her furry eye brows knit together. "You might want to slow you drinking, if not put the bottle down all together." She doubted her words were really going to be listened to, as at the moment it seemed that the feline and her companion could do no right, but it was still worth a shot. Sara wasn't going to have the lack of a warning on her Karma.

"You're the one that is blowing this thing out of proportion." Sara said calmly, but pointedly. "You could have ignored us, or walked out quietly, or hell. I would have liked it better if you stood on the bar stools, through your hands out to the side, and screamed at us for five minutes." Sara took a step closer so that she was in the other girls view better. Trying to make things more comfortable for the gentleman that had been between them. Because a male, in his right mind, standing between two hormonally junked ladies, logically, had to be ready to pee his pants. "He's even trying to apologist to you, for reasons that I don't really understand, because I'm the one who said what set you off." Sara jabbed her thumb towards her collar bone as she talked.

"Oh and this drinky drinky wee wee wee thing," Sara made like she was holding a bottle with her hand and half way mockingly tipped it back, like she was drinking as she spoke. "That's not really going to hurt me. It's self destructive though. I'm going to walk away from this quite happily, and you're going to be lucky to find your way to where ever you're sleeping tonight with both shoes on your feet, and without dried vomit in your hair, or on your sweater."

Ugh, would they never stop following her?

Sara kept talking, Mongoose kept talking, they just would not shut up! She started to laugh. At first, it was a tiny hiccup, then it was a giggle, and soon, it was uproar! Xavia laughed and stumbled as she tried to swing around to face them, a comical expression that drunks often have on her face, minus the sharpie squiggles and mustache that people liked to draw on a face like that. She laughed until she fell to her ass, and then she squinted up at the blurred figures, not having heard a word they said.

When she stopped laughing, she went slack-jawed and cross eyed as she tried to focus on their two-four-two-six-two-four-two-ten figures, and then plopped back with a nasty sounding thud on the pavement. Of course, while the two had been talking, she quickly polished off more than half of the bottle, and after she fell, the bottle of brandy skidded across the sidewalk and some of the remaining contents drained. Honestly, she was too far gone to be angry anymore.

She rolled onto her side with a groan, a touch of crimson from the back of her head left in the wake of her rolling over. She had smacked her head that hard. Oh my. Never had she gone this far before, and she would probably never do it again. She didn’t need anyone to tell her she was an idiot, she would feel like crap when this was over as it is.

The girl struggled to her feet, not yet feeling the knot in the back of her head, and she grabbed for the bottle with a few tries, then snagged it and lurched upright. The alcohol had caught up with her fast, and she went to take another drink but missed her mouth by half a foot, the rest of the contents splashing onto the sidewalk before the bottle fell and shattered. Her form weaved and bobbed and she headed straight into the center of the street and into the heart of traffic.

Helloooooo earth to the girl that is now drunk of her freakin' tailside.

Nope. their words had gone unheard. Wonderful. Just wonderful. Frustration put Sara under the belief that the girl was just being a pain in the butt on purpose. No matter what the physical signs were that she was actually having trouble with her alcohol.

Why was Sara even trying? The girl wasn't going to listen. She'd made her mind up already obviously. besides. The whisp of a girl wasn't really that stupid to drink herself senseless when she was obviously that much of a light weight. Right? sara started to turn away just when...

Thunk

Ok. that was sickening sounding and the coppery smell of blood that greeted Sara's nose was disturbing. Sara froze her feet, then glanced over her shoulder, watching the girl for a moment. her feet frozen and one eye brow raised above the other. Right up until the girl headed for traffic, and Sara spun around. her unnatural speed making her movements nothing but a blur, as her long coat unfurled around her legs that practically made her float across the ground, and her twitching tail. Sara grabbed for the other girls arm, intending to pull her back onto the sidewalk.