With every step he took David could feel the ocean’s tide throwing his stomach up into the air while dragging his legs down. Unfortunately neither leg felt as though it was moving in the right direction and the sidewalk had different heights depending upon which foot he moved. Hangovers he could deal with. He’d gotten quite good at walking in a (semi) straight line after a few good brews. His skin, which was pale enough, was a light shade of green. As much as he wanted a sarnie he doubted it would stay in his stomach where he needed it the most.

For someone who had never traveled before Sledge was surprised to find out that he had sea legs. The ocean hadn’t bothered him, though he kept well away from anything that smelled fishy in the galley. He only had one EpiPen and a few corticosteroids to get him through the long voyage across the ocean. A storm had delayed a stop into a port, so in the last few days more and more fish was on the menu. It was the lack of food in his stomach, rather than the bouncing movement of the ship on the waves that put him in this sorry state. Weak with hunger, but still too sea sick David staggered his way through New York City. Let those who came to the country legally be in awe of the landmarks. They probably had a stomach that wasn’t out to kill them.

After several dry heaves in an ally that only made Sledge wish all the more that this torture and pain would end he had to rest against a building. America was suppose to be this land of great opportunity. That whole American Dream and the chance for anyone to make a name for themselves. With nothing but a tenner in his wallet as far as cash went, Sledge was already starting out in a worse position than he had been back in England. His eyes glossed over as he stared dumbly ahead of him. A group of ladies carrying shopping bags walked towards him, and Sledge straightened himself up. Not so bad, he thought, giving them a smile that showed his dimple off. A lingering gaze from one of the girls did not go unnoticed, but once the girls had passed he resumed holding onto his stomach and leaning against the nice building.

A situation such as this called for one solution. New York City, he noticed had plenty of places where a bloke could go to get bladdered. Heading into a bar Sledge could tell relief was on its way.

He took his fedora off as he entered, and slung his duffle bag off his shoulder. With a stool taken right at the bar he gave a weak smile. "'ave a cuppa soda water if you have it," he requested. The bar was cool underneath his hands. Holding onto his fedora David rested his head. Should he worry about the grossness of it? He hadn't gone on pub crawls for nothing. This was not nearly as bad as some of the dives he'd been in before.

Aedus was out on the town experiencing some interesting experiences. He didn’t have his handsome looks to rely on to help him float through the world at the moment, oh they were there but they were etched in obsidian, his body still curiously moved like it had before, he was a lot heavier but it hadn’t effected his flexibility or agility in the least.

It had affected the ladies however, just now he had passed a group of women that normally he might have waved to, or chatter up, but the giggling and smiles ceased at encountering his dark figure and Bright orange eyes. He literally had chiseled abs and nothing. He held up his hands in a peaceful motion.
“I won’t be bothering you ladies.” Their only response was to walk faster. That was troublesome.
He walked into the pub that He knew he wouldn’t get the same sour welcome, his family had frequented the place for decades, the owner was a mutant, a lot of the workers were mutants or relatives of mutants, they weren’t loud about it, but they didn’t keep it quiet either.

He opted for a pair of Jeans, his work boots that could support the weight he was sporting with his stone frame and a blue wool scarf, to offset his new scary outer demeanor, otherwise his torso was bare. He had been burning up since that first day when he went Lava man. His body was still sensitive to those things in spite of not being made up of the typical parts.

He sat down at the bar giving the man with his head down a couple chairs space. “I’ll take a pickleback.” He hadn’t introduced his new face to the bar, and he was pretty sure he was the only one that ordered the nasty mix of Jameson and pickle juice.

Now that he no longer had to walk and had his head resting on something cool, Sledge no longer felt the pull of the ocean. His body was starting to adjust to being stationary. Hopefully soon Sledge would be able to think about food without having to worry that it wouldn’t even rest in his stomach. So far the acid was still churning as badly as the ocean did when the storm hit. “Easy now, you don’t get owt for nowt if you chuck up,” he whispered hoarsely to himself. Activities such as the one he was warning himself against had left his throat raw. No voice would mean no talking his way into a free meal or cheating someone out of their money. Sledge had the kicked puppy look down, and with as miserable as he felt at the moment it wouldn’t require much acting. The problem was just looking utterly dejected wasn’t enough. You had to make people feel that it was their responsibility to take care of you. A few slow and deep breaths helped to fight off the sudden onslaught of nausea that threatened to throw off his tenuous hold of his stomach.

He was going to have to get food soon, something that he hadn’t been presented with on the ship, and preferably something hot. With a bit of food settled into his stomach he would be able to process things better. After that I should get some funds. The Consumers Product Safety should work. There’s enough street venders with knockoff products that at least one will believe it, and iffin they don’t then I just need to ‘negotiate’ a deal with them.

Now that he had been able to rest briefly Sledge lifted his head off the bar. His skin still had a green tint to it that would make the Statue of Liberty jealous, but he felt confident that the worse was behind him. A glass was placed before him and Sledge took a tentative sip. The soda water was flat thankfully. He didn’t need the carbonation to upset his stomach anymore than it already was. Out of the corner of his eye David watched the new arrival come in with the confidence of a man in his territory. Pickleback? What the bloody hell is that? he wondered, and continued to watch without purposefully turning to watch Aedus’s drink be prepared.

It was the smell of the pickle juice that set him off. Sledge gagged, trying hard not to let anything else happen.

Aedus noted the man’s disgust of his drink choice even as the bartender set it down in front of him. He kicked it back fast, clearing the air, the glass clinked against his stone lips.

“There is only one man that ever orders these things and.” The bartender’s eyes narrowed studying his face. “Well I’ll be, when did you do that to yourself? I thought you weren’t going to turn, but here you are all dressed in stone. Aedus Teague, that travesty is on the house. ”

He grinned a smile of black on black, It was disturbing but with the power came a reduction in so much else, he couldn’t feel, smell, taste or hear the same, but his sight was amazing. He peered at the man’s sickened state.

“It’s just an odd take on a whiskey sour.” Aedus spoke in a tone he didn’t quite recognize as his own the echoic hollow sound of his body was still new to him. “You look like you might have already managed to drink enough today, though.” He noted the flat soda water.

A whiskey sour. That’s what the newcomer described a pickleback as. Sledge didn’t even care for a whiskey sour. He would much rather have plain whiskey on the rocks. Why should you ruin perfectly good whiskey by mixing it with anything? Or bad whiskey, whatever was available, Sledge wasn’t picky. He had downed many a beer that tasted like petrol, and some wines that were the drinks of the gods. What was important was how buzzed you got at the end of the night. It wasn’t what Aedus was drinking that made Sledge heave like a cat trying to get rid of a hairball. The smell, dear Lord the smell.

“That’s not it,” he mumbled once he could breath without his stomach trying to force itself out of his mouth. He looked at the bartender, knowing that vomiting in a bar was a surefire way to get kicked out. “’ad a rough time crossing the pond ‘sall.” David pointed to his soda water. “’aven’t had anything to drink other than this, an’ that was only a sip.” Surely his accent, always more profound when he was utterly miserable, would back up his story.

Sledge dipped his fingers into his glass and pulled out an ice cube. Without the fresh source of pickle juice he could feel himself returning to the halfway state, that awkward position where you don’t know if you are going to vomit, but are wanting it to happen. The ice cube was pressed against the back of his neck. The coolness helped him feel less nauseous.

“Are ya back? or just in?” He liked this Brit, He hadn’t given him one funny look beyond the one he earned for his bad choice in drinks. “Let me know if you are up for something more substantial then the soda water, I don’t think you’ll regret your destination, New York is what you make it. I think it’s the best place on earth. That said I don’t have much else to judge it against.”

He waited and listened to get more of the story out of this one, he definitely had the accent all over him. Aedus winked at one of the waitresses when she walked by. She gave him a funny look like she didn’t recognize him. the red head looked closer and smacked him playfully on the shoulder. “And I didn’t think you could get more statuesque.”

Aedus shrugged, it felt incredibly good to be welcome and appreciated somewhere, the streets were rough in this form, and he didn’t care for how it might affect his outlook if it were permanent.

"Just in," Sledge offered. Aedus's question had confused him. What had he meant by "Are ya back? Or just in?". The nearest that he could figure was that Aedus wanted to know if he had been in the states before. With an accent as thick as his he would have thought that it would be obvious he hadn't been here long. Had he lived here before surely Sledge would have returned to his hypothetical home and be sick there. Nobody wants to vomit in a bar, or at least have dry heaves there. For one there's the humiliation of being caught doing a disgusting, though natural, human behavior. Next nobody wanted to face the humiliation of being kicked out of a bar. Who in their right mind would want to be booted out of a bar? Sledge spent a good portion of his life trying to get into one. A young round face like his was great at getting people to trust you he discovered. Rounded things were more comforting, more trustworthy. Angles put people on edge, they are exotic yes, but unfamiliar and unfamiliar meant dangerous. Young and rounded face meant that nobody believed him when he claimed to be older in his teen years.

"Your round then?" Sledge asked Aedus. He noticed the flirtatious waitress and offered her an apologetic smile. "Well, the birds here are a fair might better than the ones back 'ome." This was Aedus's territory, he had to respect that, but it didn't mean that he couldn't offer a little bit of flirting to the waitress. Besides he had never had the fortune of hooking up with a ginger. "Best to keep away from the hardstuff until my stomach is less wobbly eh? Very well might 'ave lost the last bit of nosh along with the rest of me luggage on the boat over." As easily as one might talk of the weather Sledge began to weave the truth with falsehoods. If he played his cards right, and he was confident that he could do so, Aedus would be paying for the soda water, and heaven willing, a meal.

"Your handle then?" Sledge took a sip of his soda water, feeling his stomach protest at being empty. The ice cube had helped more than he thought. Now his stomach was just hurting him with hunger. It was to be expected after a few days with no food and emptying what little there had still been in it. All that was left was the stomach acid and it was giving him such a pain.

“Never can tell around here, New York sees everybody coming and going, you’ll see, that an accent won’t peg you as an outsider around here quite so hard as it might in other places.”

“Sure, order what Ya like. Hey Michel He’s on my tab.” He’d done it plenty of times before, a couple of times Michel cut the tabbie off for him, when he was tired of a stranger taking advantage of Aedus kindness, on the other hand He knew Aedus was good for it and would settle up weekly. So ,a simple nod and a look to David as far as he wanted to get started.
“That one’s trouble, Mark my words.” He said loud enough for Maggie to hear him, She was a firecracker and you had to have a solid game to have her even bother with you, it was part of the trouble of hitting on a waitress, they were used to it.

“I’m not sure I follow, But my name is Aedus Teague. And you are?” He offered a solid Obsidian Hand to his new met friend. People started out as friends to Aedus, there were friends he knew well and friends he hadn’t met, and then there were those wicked few that used to be his friend but turned out to be the wicked sort better left unmet. This bloke seemed like he would be fun once his stomach settled. Aedus wondered Idly if he had work lined up.

Sledge nodded his head. There was a reason why he had chosen America, and why specifically New York City. He had become too visible in Bradford, too easy for the police to spot. A new Brit in the city was hardly noteworthy. He was just one more person in a large city with a funny accent. Even better he could keep his gob shut and look like any other person. There had to be at least half a dozen people with the same distinguishing features. Nobody really cares about brown hair and brown eyes. They were the most plain colors, nothing that people really look for.

Aedus was picking up the round. Excellent! That solved the issue of how he was going to pay for the soda water. "Dunno what's good over 'ere. I've heard that you Yanks have stronger brews." He was warned against pursuing the waitress, but that wasn't a rule, just advice. Advice is free, but not always to be followed. "I 'appen to like a bird with trouble. Makes the effort worth something."

There was nothing wrong with just a little bit of friendly flirting. It was only his first day in America, and he had no intention of returning to Britain any time soon. Sledge was facing a long stretch of time, no need to rush himself with the ladies. "David Maxwell," he introduced himself after studying the hand that was offered to him. Handshakes were a no no for him.

Aedus Grinned an obsidian on obsidian smile, He rather liked this fellow. “Just fair warning and you can’t tell me I didn’t warn ya later.”

“Well, I did just drink something that you objected to, so I’ll let Michel here put you through your paces, He wants something not too rough, just yet.”

Aedus might have been offended if He hadn’t given his name either, but the tone still seemed amiable, He let his hand drop to the bar without fuss, he obviously didn’t care too much that he was mutant and if he didn’t want to shake hands well that was his call to make.

“So David what brings you stateside?”

Aedus was just making idle chitchat, He wasn’t nor would he press him for answers. Either way it was nice to not draw odds looks for a little bit.

"Warned. But someone better warn her," he smiled and leaned towards Aedus. With a whisper that was loud enough that if she wanted, the waitress could hear him, "I've heard that American ladies fancy a British accent." At least it seemed that the Yanks who stopped in his pub back in England found his accent appealing. For that very reason tourists always were popular with his gang. The best thing about them was they didn't stay around forever. If his accent still had the same level of charm in America was still to be proven. Waitress could be his first test subject.

"Drink what you want mate, it's the smell that made my stomach wobbly," Sledge filled in Aedus. If the other man had been offended by the lack of handshake he was showing it well,. You'd have to be pretty daft not to notice the death glares visible mutants got. He heard of the camps that had been put in place in America following the registration act. Nothing like that had happened in England, and honestly Sledge couldn't think of why anyone would want to put such an act into place.

"Business," was the easy lie. David's resources were drying up in England as he became more known among the police there. "I sell things, electronics mostly. Me company has been looking to expand and, not to brag, but I am one of the top employees." Translation into the actual truth was something along the lines of 'I sell people shoddy speakers and am at risk of being caught because, while I am top banana, I am surrounded by apes'.

“That’s the spirit!” Aedus Cheered him on, he gave the man fair warning and if he chose to throw down the gauntlet anyhow, all the more power to him.

“A secret weapon will come in handy.” Aedus whispered back loudly in mock conspiracy.

Maggie popped a wash cloth between the two with a practiced crack that if landed would likely sting quite a bit, luckily for them both the target was the stool between them. “It’s not a man’s accent that matters but what he does with it. are you going to sing me a song or recite me a poem?”

Aedus hooted a laugh at the challenge.

“Well I’ll try to drink things less wobble inducing then, it is an acquired taste anyhow. In fact, Michel, I’ll take an old bushmills, strait, what are you having David?”

Aedus whistled low upon hearing the man’s business success. “Not too Shabby. If you need someone to show you round town let me know. I just picked up a second job, got an internship at a pharmaceutical company. It’s mostly assisting now but I’ll turn it in to more.”

Maggie seemed to be enjoying the attention on the new fellow and was adding a bit more sashay to her walk, he wondered if she was interested of if the cat had found a mouse to pounce on. “Her name’s Maggie by the way.”

Sledge let himself jump at the sound of the towel crack. Feisty one she was, and talking a little more freely to him now. She might have been repelled by his gagging earlier at the smell of Aedus’s drink, but his stage whisper had the desired effect and broke the ice. He gave Aedus a wink as Maggie started to strut away. Maggie might be playing him, but he was willing to go along with it. Turning around so that his back was now to the bar Sledge decided to do something with that accent of his. “No coward soul is mine, No trembler in the worlds storm-troubled sphere,” he grabbed his hat and held it over his heart, “I see ‘eavens glories shine, And faith shines equal, arming me from fear.”

With little money to spend when he was a child David had spent a good amount of time reading the classic works. Shakespeare was all well and good, but one of his love sonnets was trying too hard to impress a lady. Better to go for someone as well known, but an unlikely choice for a man to pick up. Sledge considered walking behind her to continue the poem. It went on for awhile and he did know more of it. His legs were gaining back their strength, but for now he felt that he had made his point. If Maggie wanted poetry then he could do poetry. That taken care of he turned back to the bar, setting his hat down.

“As I said earlier, I’m not familiar with the brews ‘ere. For now though I’ll settle for something to put into me stomach. Mite too early for me to get all bevvied up,” he excused himself as he twisted his glass of soda water, “Drunk you would say.” In his mind Sledge was calculating just what he could get out of this stop. A free drink or two for sure, possibly something to eat as well. If he played the right cards with Maggie possibly a bed for a night. “Is the economy really so poor here that you have to ‘ave two jobs or is the internship simply wanting to better yourself?

Money was an excellent motivator. If there wasn’t much bread to go around people would always jump at the chance to make more. When you get like that you’re more willing to believe that you can win at what you know is a con. At that point you just need something to believe in, and everyone wants to think that they can change their position in life.


((The poem is No Coward soul is mine by Emily Bronte))

Aedus clapped a clunky clack of a clap but applauded David well as he sat down and after he met her challenge head on, he just might do well. Maggie for her part tilted her head and listened as she wiped down the bar and played aloof, if you knew her you’d see she was eating this up. She typically threw stuff out like that to shut a mouth, but when they met it, she’d have them dancing to her tune of demands as long as she could.

“Right sorry, well they do a good burger hear, or if you are already missing home, the fish and chips aren’t bad. It’s still on me if ya like.” He looked hungry, business or not, maybe he forgot to exchange currency or left most of it in his lost luggage.

Aedus was a chatter box, always had been and always would be. “The economy is a bit rough, and most have to work hard to make ends meat, this city is plenty demanding, but no, I got my first job in college, I’m a bike Currier, it keeps me fit and I get to ride all over the city and make money while doing it, but my passion is science, I went to school for biology and it finally paid off in an internship. Eventually I’ll have to let go of my Currier job all together.”

Fish and chips. Sledge's grin, which had grown at his triumphs with Maggie, faded at the mention of the traditional English pub dish. The chips were perfectly fine. Sledge had no problem with chips, he quite enjoyed chips, especially if they had catsup and a little bit of pepper sprinkled on them. No, the issue was the fish, which was always a shady term. Fish could be any sort of swimming thing, any number of things that would make his throat swell shut and well... he didn't want to think of what happened the last time a bit of seafood passed his lips. "Just the chips. Burger might not sit as well."

He knew that going to a bar had been the right choice. Not only did he get the time to settle his stomach but a free lunch as well. Whoever said there was no such thing as a free meal clearly was speaking a load of rubbish. Aedus was confirming that coming to New York was a good idea. Working to make ends meet was the right type of soil for his plans to blossom in. He listened patiently as Aedus explained about his two jobs. He couldn't be making much with the currier business, and internships rarely paid, and if they did, not much.

Lifting his glass of soda water slightly Sledge gave Aedus a nod. "To you then, here's 'oping that your internship goes as you've planned it."