Vicente led the way. The man, Shane, was following behind him and seemed to be eager to get out of the public view. Vicente couldn’t blame him. A mug like that and no wonder. But Vicente didn’t voice this opinion. Instead he acted as the guide and continued on. Before he was rudely interrupted from checking his phone for restaurants, he was surprised that he was fairly close to a local bar that he liked to inhabit. Not the best of food, but it would do. And given Shane’s…appearance…this place would probably be the best option for the both of them.

Looking up as he walked, he finally saw the dim, neon lights of a sign that said “Splicer” on it. It was just a bit further down the street and would probably be the best option…

>> “So…How far of a walk is this place anyways?”

Vicente didn’t turn around but he did respectfully answer the man.

“Right there,” he said as he nodded ahead. “They serve good tequila and passable food.”

Upon walking up to the bar with the heavy door, Vicente pulled a twenty dollar bill from his pocket, slipped it under the door and knocked on it roughly. Within seconds the small opening was slid aside and large pair of eyes peeked out.

“Blood, thought you weren’t drinking the sewer water in this place anymore?” came a humorous voice.

“Whatever, Jells, I was in the neighborhood.” he grumbled in response.

Several locks were unlocked and the door swung open on quite a sight. On the other side was a massive bulk of a man dressed in a trench coat, but instead of looking normal, his body looked as if it was a mass of green goo that was transparent. Inside his body freely floated a small skull, which looked canine, and several bones. His gooey mouth stretched into a smile as he nodded to both Vicente and the newcomer.

“Bringing us more business? Always appreciated.” Jells stuck his hand out to shake Shane’s. “Pleasure, mutant, right?”

“Don’t touch him,” Vicente directed Shane. “He’s fairly acidic.”

“Always taking my fun away, Blood,” he smirked as he closed the door once they had stepped in.

Vicente shook his head as he waited for Shane to catch up. Almost as if the man were an extremely charitable person, he led Shane into a mutant bar. That way they could at least drink in piece…

They had arrived at a door that did very little to notify passers by that anything more then a closet resided behind it. A dim neon sign hung above the rotten door, intending to read “Splicer” but had burnt out a few letters, leaving only “lice” visible from a distance. To call it a hole in the wall would be reasonable, were it not sealed up so tightly. No windows were visible and the door certainly didn’t let in any light. The space under the door was likely the only source of airflow this place could be receiving. Shane went along with it though. That was just the sort of mood he was in.

A bill slipped under the door triggered a slit to open up with a voice to accompany it. The two men exchanged “pleasantries” before being allowed to enter. The man behind the slit turned out to be a man like none he’d seen before. Shane actually took quite a liking to him immediately; the two of them had very similar body types, despite the colour differences. It was hard for him not to immediately find a connection with the man’s appearance. A hand was extended with a greeting as he looked for confirmation Shane was indeed a mutant. “A stupid question” he though to himself, but he’d certainly accept the handshake, at least until Blood blocked the exchange.

“Don’t touch him, He’s fairly acidic.” He warned. The green man grinned a smile of veiled disappointment. “Always taking my fun away.”

Shane was mildly irritated by the foiled attempt at injury, but he shrugged it off once he realized his companion in this strange place had already moved on. The place itself had quite the atmosphere. It was clear from a quick glance around that this was a place for mutants to meet. Only a small percentage of them seemed to be visibly mutated, but he could assume that a good chunk of them would still fall into the mutant category.

The two most off putting things were the smell and the darkness. Shane was used to dark, but he had grown accustomed to the moon, or even just stars above him. This was just dingy and artificial. And the smell was of a few too many spills lining the floor (perhaps a few coming from people instead of bottles?). Despite the fact that this certainly wasn’t the local family restaurant, there was something homey about the place to him. He felt comfortable.

“Right.” He said, turning to Blood, slightly confused about how the bar scene worked, “How do we do this?”

The bar was a horrid, squalled little hellhole and few, not even the health department, dared to try and enter. But it was not just because of the smells, the “spills” that were never cleaned, or even the overly large roaches that looked as if they could mug you for your wallet that skittered across the walls. No, what kept most people away was the clientele that this place kept. The most true to form quote that could be imagined to describe Splicers can be taken from a classic movie about a war in the stars, in which a desert monk states about a certain cantina: “You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.” There was no better way to describe Splicers.

>> “Right…How do we do this?”

Vicente glanced at him. Mutely he shook his head. Really, where did this kid live? Under a rock?

“Follow me,” was all he said as he led the way…

The dark and dank bar was lit only through the dimmest and yellowest of light bulbs the world had to offer, while there was an anonymous buzzing (from either bugs or frayed wires) that nobody had ever been able to identify, filled the air. The bar at the back wall was lined with spirits and various other bottles of alcohol while a disgruntled looking bartender poured drinks. The most disturbing was the pair of tiny, T-Rex, arms that grew from his chest that was cleaning a glass with a rag.

He looked up and arched his brow when he noticed Vicente.

“Blood, old buddy,” he smirked. “Thought you vowed never to come back here.”

Vicente shook his head as he walked in. “Rex, someone told me you were dead. Came to spit on your grave. Looks like they were wrong though.”

Rex laughed heartily as he pulled up a couple of shot glasses and began to pour tequila into each one.

As Vicente walked up, the full scope of the bar came into better view. All around the bar were various cheap and rickety tables that various other patrons sat around. They were all mutants but only a few of them were visibly mutated. Some had rock skin, others looked like animals, this one guy laughed and smirked as he drank his beer, his fingers looking like actual possums (that was the most disturbing).

Stopping at the bar, Vicente slapped Shane on the shoulder and sent him stumbling forward towards Rex.

“Get the kid whatever he wants,” Vicente said with a smirk. “He’s a good fighter whose earned himself something. Give him a menu, too,” Vicente said as he grabbed his first shot of tequila and downed it.

Slapping him in the back, Blood had knocked Shane into the counter, where he barely managed to stand on his feet. The bar stool he had crashed into appeared to be locked off to the ground, not budging on contact, but further examination would indicate that it was simply stuck to the floor due to a mixture of any number of sticky substances. Popping a smile onto his face, he looked up at the bartender, Rex, as the man slid him a menu.

“What’ll be, tough guy?” He asked, surprised by Blood’s comment about Shane’s combat prowess. Shane sifted through the menu to try and find the drinks section while Rex’s eyes moved back and forth between Blood and his feeble figure.

He wasn’t really very good at reading. He could do it just fine. He’d finished grade school before he ran off to the woods, so he was a competent reader. It was the speed that he could do it at that was embarrassing for him. He hadn’t had much of a chance to practice the last few years, and didn’t have many opportunities to practice now. He could feel the impatience of the bartender’s stare as he flipped the few pages, so his gaze moved upwards to the bottles and taps around him. He looked around for anything that jumped out at him as a possible contender for a good drink. Along the taps, he spotted an image of a deer. “Sure” he thought, “why not?”

“I’ll try this one,” he said, leaning over in his seat and pointing towards the taps. Rex didn’t seem as though he understood which one, but moved towards the tap. Shane stretched his arm out longer so he could point to the exact brand. Rex eyed him suspiciously before turning his gaze back to Blood.

“You haven’t brought me a minor, have you?” He asked, a chuckle following the question. Something about the man made him think he wouldn’t take issue to serving minors anyways.

Rex slide him a glass of the beer, turning his attention back to Blood again, waiting for his order. Shane took a small sip of his drink giving it a taste. He wasn’t a fan, but when he realized everyone was at least partially looking to see his reaction, he feigned a smile, raising the glass and miming cheers. He then went back to the menu. He could really go for some meat.

Vicente sighed as he took up the other shot of tequila that Rex had poured for him and down that glass as well. As the burning liquid flowed down his throat, he winced only briefly before he planted the shot glass firmly back onto the countertop. The glass clinked loud as he turned to see how Shane was doing. As he did he noticed that the man looked utterly perplexed as to what he was going to order. It was obvious that he knew nothing of alcohol and that simply made him smirk. Was the kid really that much of a blank slate?

Judging by his selection, he sure was…

>> “I’ll try this one,”

>> “You haven’t brought me a minor, have you?”

Vicente smirked and nodded to Rex. “You ever let that stop you from selling a drink before? Just give the man his drink.”

Rex grumbled as he turned and poured the kid’s drink and handed it over. Once he was done he turned and continued to clean glasses with his tiny hands. Always creeped Vicente out.

He watch the kid sip and show his begrudging approval to the rest of the crowd that was watching him. The place was rather disgusting but each of those drunken mutants were proud to call this place their second home. It was smart that Shane didn’t insult them.

Glancing at the menu the kid was looking at, he smirked, “Stick with the steak sandwich. It’s the one less likely to give you ebola.”

“HEY!” Rex turned with a snarl.

Vicente only waved him off. “What? I said it was the least likely, didn’t I?” He shook his head and turned back to the remains of his drink.

“Stick with the steak sandwich. It’s the one less likely to give you ebola.”

He really wasn’t prepared to hunt through the menu, and Blood’s recommendation certainly sounded appetizing, apart from the ebola part, that is. He tapped his fingers on the menu as he weighed his options, then finally pushed the laminated paper back towards Rex.

“I suppose I’ll try that then.” He did his best to pass off a look of nonchalant indifference. The few people who were even remotely interested in him weren’t really buying it though. He hunched over on his stool, and turned to look at his companion.

“So, you’re a regular here then, eh?” He asked, taking another miniscule sip of his beer. A quick glance around the room wasn’t feeling like it was sufficient any longer. The hunter in him was starting to slip out, and he really wanted to get a better sense of his surroundings. His gaze drifted from Blood almost as fast as it had moved to him.

The entire bar was filled with people he had a hard time imagining being anywhere else. It was like they were just another part of the building itself. A few were passed out, face down at their tables, but most seemed to be brooding. There were few smiles in the place, and the few there were always seemed to follow some kind of snide remark. The one thing they all had in common was a greasy exterior. There wasn’t a single washed head of hair amongst the crowd. And once again, he felt as though he was part of the gang. He wasn’t entirely sure if he was safe with all of them, but until something presented itself as a threat, he was perfectly happy spending time with this group of people.

He managed to spot a particularly gruff man looking man with a pale completion chug a full glass of beer as if it were nothing. He looked at his nearly full glass and realized he wasn’t doing it right. Taking a deep breath, he leaned his head back and started chugging the beer.

He only got about a quarter of the way through it before he chocked and started coughing up a storm. Who said fitting in was easy?

>> “I suppose I’ll try that then.”

Rex grumbled and nodded as he wandered off to start the sandwich.

The kid decided to take his advice…good lad. Vicente really was not kidding about that ebola. There had been an incident here in which a young man had decided to have one of Rex’s “Chicken Specials” and ended up needing to go to the hospital. It was a horrible turn of events and though such a situation should have easily called for the establishment’s closure, Rex knew people. These particular people were happier knowing that most of the city’s scum was in this rat’s nest than out wandering the streets.

They made the right decision. And Rex never bought chicken from that source again.

He sighed as he tapped his glass to have another drink poured. As he sat back, he let Rex fill his glass with the amber contents of the bottle until it was near the top. Once the bartender stepped back, Vicente cracked his neck to the side and turned when the kid addressed him once more…

>> “So, you’re a regular here then, eh?”[/color]

Vicente shrugged.

He wasn’t so much a regular as a mutant that just needed a good place to get a drink. Most regular bars were filled with too many stupid acting in stupid ways. At least here a Splicers most of the mutants knew it was better to keep to their own business and not to mind with other people’s. Vicente could not count the amount of times he heard or seen something at this place that was completely illegal. But here, mutants knew they didn’t rat each other out.

Another glance to Shane and he nodded.

“Place is a sty,” he said with a twinge of venom. “But its quiet and people keep their mouths shut.” he nodded as he took a sip from his tequila. He then glanced back to the kid. “So…why are you so hungry? Looks to me like you haven’t seen so much as a peanut in days…”

“So…why are you so hungry? Looks to me like you haven’t seen so much as a peanut in days…”

He’d almost forgotten he was hungry. Taking in the new surroundings had given him some much needed distraction, just enough to make his gut forget to grumble. The reminder was all it needed to start moaning again, though, and off it went, competing with the low classic rock that was playing throughout the bar.

“A few days?” He asked, blowing it off as if that were nothing. And to him, it really wasn’t. A few days were a relatively short time for him. His eating habits had become more snake-like as he grew up. One large meal was enough to last him up to a few weeks. He’d kind of fallen into a routine of spaced out big meals rather then regular small meals. His move to the city really threw a wrench into that system though, leaving him with more of a grab what you can attitude.

“Truth be told, my last real meal was probably around the last time I ran into you.” He said, following it up with attempt number two at a larger beer chug. The results were similar to the first.

Blood’s face lead Shane to believe that he wasn’t all too familiar with that kind of diet. “I don’t really eat… normally,” He added in. As vague as it was, it was easier then blabbering on about absorbing animals whole rather then chewing them; it was really more of a need to be seen sort of activity.

His stomach seemed to appreciate the beer though, the grumbling slowing a bit as the liquid settled in on yet another gulp. It was strange to him, but Shane was already starting to find the taste to be improving. A small hiccup escaped his lips as he set his nearly empty glass on the counter.

>> “A few days?”[/color]

The man had said the word with a scoff. It was as if he really did not understand exactly how long the man had been without food. To be honest, Vicente could have guessed that it was probably weeks but judging by the odd physiology this man possessed, he doubted that there was any clear way for him to guess. After all, he had only met the man on one prior occasion and then he looked vastly different. He could have been a shifter for all he knew.

But Vicente did not argue the point. Instead he simply took another sip of his tequila and watched as the man attempted to chug his beer. All he came away with was another long sip before he recoiled slightly and set the mug down. He had to smirk. It was obvious this man was not much of a beer drinker.

Again, though, he didn’t call him on it. He simply remained silent and let the man continue to talk.

>> “Truth be told, my last real meal was probably around the last time I ran into you…I don’t really eat… normally,” [/color]

Vicente nodded with a knowing smirk.

He knew something about eating abnormally but he didn’t say anything outloud. Instead he laughed silently to himself as he tapped his glass on the counter for a refill. He could smell the sounds of a steak cooking in the kitchen behind the bar. It was a savory scent but one that was completely lost on Vicente; especially since he was a vegetarian unless he needed a new shift.

“I get that…” Vicente said with a smirk and glanced at the man. Rex had returned and poured Vicente another tequila shot while his tiny hands cleaned another glass. “Why let yourself starve, though? Plenty of homeless shelters around the city.”

Rex returned, caring a greasy plate that had a rare steak between two slices of bread and a stack of fries. He tossed the plate on the counter in front of Shane and went back to his business…

The second that plate hit the counter Shane started salivating, which he didn’t even know he could do. The smell overpowered all of the other odors that had filled the air before it’s arrival. Refreshing was probably the best word to describe it’s arrival, though there were several different feeling rushing through his head at that moment, hunger one that was clawing it’s way to the surface.

He grabbed the sandwich into his skinny hands and examined it, noting where the sauce and juices were leaking down the side of the bread. There was a moment of hesitation in his eyes as he looked at it, but then he shrugged, opened his mouth extremely wide so as to fit the entire thing in whole, and then proceeded to gently place the sandwich into the back of his throat. As it disappeared into the dark void of his throat, his mouth began to shrink down around it until it returned to its original size. And that was it, sandwich finished. No chewing, no swallowing. Just dropping it into his belly was all he needed. A small burp escaped his lips, which he apologized for and then finished his beer. Normally.

“For a few reasons.” He began answering the man’s question. “I guess the big one is I like to have an open sky of my head.” He gestured up to the ceiling before he realized that they weren’t actually outside. "But I do also have an issue with taking charity from, people.” The last word rolled off his tongue with a hefty dose of spite. He took look around the room and formed a small smile. “Mutants are a different story though.”

He was beginning to notice he was far more chatty then usual. That was far more then he would usually tell someone he more or less just met. It didn’t really bother him at all though; he just carried on with the conversation.

The steak sandwich was dropped in front of the kid…and in the seconds that followed Vicente was only struck in awe by the sight that he beheld. Drink still between his fingers, he watched as the kid eyed the sandwich as if it were the only piece of food he would ever behold for years to follow, like an old lover he wanted to memorize so that he would never forget. There was a true longing in his look, one that made Vicente just all the more curious about the man.

One would have thought that maybe, just maybe, the man would have tried to savor the meal, attempt to make it last. But Vicente was sorely mistaken. Instead he watched in surprise as the kid suddenly managed to open his mouth to impossible lengths and widths, which allowed him to place the steak sandwich down and into the back of his throat.

One gulp. That was all it took for the starving man to completely eradicate the sandwich from the face of the earth. It took a second of him blinking before he finally realized that the kid was talking again…

>> “For a few reasons….I guess the big one is I like to have an open sky of my head. But I do also have an issue with taking charity from, people…Mutants are a different story though.” [/color]

“Understandable, I can respect that,” he responded with a nod.

He smirked. No charity huh? The kid was a good fighter and he had a sense of self-pride. It may have been a little misplaced but Vicente was still impressed to hear it.

He then sat back a little and thought over the kid’s powers. Those could definitely be helpful, especially if the he had no qualms about exactly what he ate. Hmm…a kid that could completely dispose of a fallen target, sans whatever evidence he needed, could be quite helpful indeed. He stroked his chin thoughtfully for a moment before he took a sip of his tequila. He needed to gauge the kid first. He couldn’t have someone who’d squeal…

A sigh and he glanced at Shane from out of the corner of his eye. “How’s the stomach? Satisfied yet? You must have a strong one to handle Rex’s cooking…”

“How’s the stomach? Satisfied yet? You must have a strong one to handle Rex’s cooking…”

He didn’t have many worries about the digestion of the sandwich. If he could handle the raw meat his diet usually consisted of, cooked stuff - regardless of how poorly it may have been done – shouldn’t be any kind of an issue. The familiar bubbling of his gut began to kick in though as the mass was slowly assimilated into his own. It wasn’t much, no more then he would gain from a small rodent, but it was refreshing nonetheless. The newly added flesh slide it’s way up to his hands, and his shifted some of the bulk in his feet to the forearms in much the same way (if he was sitting, there wasn’t any need to waste it on dangling limbs). From the right angle, he would have looked like two kids on each other’s shoulders under his giant coat.

His much sturdier looking hands patted his torso, and he smirked a little. “I wouldn’t worry about me. I’ve got an iron stomach.” He leaned in a bit and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “Hell, you wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve eaten.” He chuckled a little bit, patting him lightly on the back. He turned back to the bar and mimicked Blood’s glass tap signifying he interest in a refill. Then it hit him that this wasn’t an open bar, and he was being treated.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He said, rotating the glass towards his company. His eyes expanded ever so slightly in a puppy dog fashion.

>> “I wouldn’t worry about me. I’ve got an iron stomach…Hell, you wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve eaten.”

Vicente smirked. Oh the stories of his own that he could tell. As a matter of fact that was how he attained the animal shifts that he possessed thus far. The lion head he could shift was probably the most interesting and dangerous of the shifts that he had attained. He doubted very many people went toe to toe with an African lion and devoured its head just so that they could attain its power.

No, he definitely had his own stories to tell. But for now, he would let Shane talk. Who knows, maybe something in the conversation would lead them to a little discussion.

Then he watched as Shane tapped the his glass for a refill, but then quickly seemed to think better of himself and turned to face him to see if the gesture was okay.

>> “You don’t mind, do you?”[/i]

Vicente waved it off.

“Of course not,” he said with a well-meaning smirk. “I said I’d treat you for being a good fighter, and so I am.” he nodded to Rex to refill the kid’s drink. As the bartender took the glass away to refill, Vicente smirked as he turned back to Shane. “Trust me, I’m sure I could beat you in the ‘weirdest-thing-I’ve-eaten’ discussion. My mutation depends on it too.”

“I said I’d treat you for being a good fighter, and so I am.”

Shane’s attention snapped back to Rex as he took his glass away. He was fairly eager to get another mug filled, even though he wasn’t completely sold on the actual quality of the stuff. He was starting to clue in that this was probably the alcohol taking over, but he really didn’t mind; he was enjoying himself, and he didn’t get to do that too often. He watched with reserved excitement as the glass filled under the tap and he couldn’t help but think how he was definitely going to be an alcoholic by the time he left this place.

“Trust me, I’m sure I could beat you in the ‘weirdest-thing-I’ve-eaten’ discussion. My mutation depends on it too.”

The last bit hung in the air for a moment. He’d never really thought about how Blood, much less anyone else’s mutations would function. If memory served, he was some kind of animal shifter, but the details were quite foggy. If eating was indeed a part of it though, he still couldn’t get his head around what that part would be. Does he simply mean he has the urge to hunt, similar to himself, or is there something else.

“You don’t say?” He responded, the intrigue audible in his voice. “Let’s hear your best one then? I’d imagine the contents of this guy could top anything floating in yours.” He patted his stomach, moving some mass from various other parts to the gut to make it a little larger. The effect was probably lost beneath his jacket though, despite being unzipped, it still covered him almost completely.

He hoped that hearing the sorts of things he ate would help him paint some kind of picture of what kind of power he was dealing with. He certainly didn’t want to discover this man was partial to devouring other mutants after all. Rex approached and casually slide Shane the mug, now full to the brim. He eager grabbed it up and downed another choking gulp.

Definitely going to be an alcoholic by the time he leaves.

Shane was excited to have his beer refilled. Rex complied and quietly poured the man another drink, his snark ending for the day. As he topped it off, he slid it back to the younger man and returned to his bartending duties.

Vicente watched as the man took another sip. Maybe he was turning the kid onto the drink. Which was kind of sad, especially considering that Splicer’s had some of the worst beer on tap. That was precisely why Vicente stuck to the bottled tequila. At least like this Rex couldn’t screw it up. Well, not counting the few times he noticed that the man watered it down. But after a “friendly discussion” Rex promised he’d never do that to Vicente’s tequila again.

Good man.

He glanced at Shane.

>> “You don’t say?... Let’s hear your best one then? I’d imagine the contents of this guy could top anything floating in yours.”

Vicente smirked. Shane patted his own incredibly skinny belly. Vicente nodded in agreement.

“Alright, but,” he grinned. “How about instead I show you?”

Setting his drink down, Vicente closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Before long he began to feel the sensation of shifting again. The bones of his face, underneath the skin began to crack, splinter, and reform themselves. While his skull reformed, his skin also began to change to match the transformation, golden fur began to sprout up from the pores while his teeth elongated into fangs. It was not long before his entire head had remade itself into that of an African lion, golden mane and all.

He sighed as he shifted his gaze back over to Shane, his predatory eyes watching him closely.

“I have to eat whatever I shift into,” he responded in a more gravelly, grinding voice. “Raw. Trust me, isn’t easy to take down a king of the jungle. But I did...”