With a cup of tea and her own Jack induced battle wound bandaged and peaking out under her mid-drift, Betsy did a double take when she saw the large man limp toward her.
"Do I look like a fuckin' geriatric bloodhound?" Victor snarled, although secretly, he was pleased that Betsy had taken notice of his wounded state. In truth, the amount of blood that had caked to his clothes made the injury seem far worse than it actually was, but the feral wasn't above playing up to appear far more hurt than he was. "Yeah, that son-of-a-bitch shot me up! Go on, laugh. Like I give a shit."
Arching her brow, she lifted the hem of her shirt enough to compare wounds. Hers was cleaned and bandaged so really it was just a square of white gauze taped to left of her toned belly but it was enough to get her point across. "I was his 3 o'clock."
Jubes had been pretty damn good at being invisible. Since she wasn't rightly meant to be out of the brig, she owed that to Logan and her new team-mates, she wasn't pushing her luck just now.
She'd been told to sit tight by Shaw, having managed a quick break out to the city with her bag, intending on not coming back when she'd just been informed that was where they wanted her.
Fair enough, she went back, after mailing the stupid gem back and lightening her load. It was easier to not attract attention without a cursed stone sitting in you back pack.
But even little thieves had to eat, and Jubilee didn't pass up a quiet moment in the mess. At least she'd thought it was quiet. When the big guy came in, Jubes would've normally bolted, instead, she sat there and stared.
Victor noticed the 'new girl' straight away, smelling her as much as seeing her; he'd taken note of her presence in the brig - he saw the camp as his 'territory', and so tried to keep an eye on what was happening here and there - but he'd not spoken to her until now. He marched over to where she was sitting, reeking of dirt and sweat and blood, towering over her as she stared up at him.
"Just let me know if I'm puttin' you off of your lunch, darlin'."
The gruff tone reminded her of the assholes of the past she'd had to deal with. It made her defensive just because, and her shoulders squared off. "Not likely," she said with a sneer, definitely keeping any shock out of her voice, "I got a stronger stomach than that."
Which was true. Sometimes, on the street, the food put you off food. "You pick a fight with a garden rake? One that knows how to use a gun?"
"Nah, but I was this close to makin' Jack cry like a fuckin' girl." He smirked, holding his thumb and forefinger a short distance apart. Not strictly true of course, but he certainly had affected the mutant-hunter's mood. He scratched absent-mindedly at his crotch with a low growl - dammit, why did it always have to itch so much when he was healing? - and fixed the young woman with a firm stare. "You're new around here, ain't ya?"
There were whispers from the guards that reached Hope. Once again, Victor was in trouble and that he had taken a bad hit. Some of them even laughed at the idea of Victor in pain.
She ignored them while stuffing her pockets full of gauze and anticeptic. He wasn't going to want to come to the Med Bay and so she had to bring it to him. She made sure to include a long pair of forceps in case she needed to pull anything out of his wounds. It might be pointless to offer medical treatment to a healing mutant but it was her job.
The blood made it easy to find him. She followed the trail to just outside the Mess Hall, where she darted in front of him.
"Let me take a look," she demanded, standing her ground.
At first, Victor's stubborn pride refused him to allow Hope to poke and prod at him like some kind of human weakling; he knew the healing process was well under way by now, his torn flesh knitting itself back together, the bullets working their way free of his body as his body healed - but, as he stood his ground and glared at Hope, another realisation began to dawn on him as remembered exactly where the injury was located. Suppressing a wicked smirk, biting back the pain that was still very much there, he gave a half-hearted shrug.
His acceptance was sort of strange. She had been expecting a very loud, very big fight. Apparently she wasn't going to get one and that was odd. She didn't really like oddities in her data.
"It'd be easier if we did this in the Med Bay," she said as she got a pair of rubber gloves from her pockets.
Rubber gloves... okay, maybe this wasn't going to be as pleasant as he'd imagined. Still, it'd certainly be something to be able to say that the good doctor had copped a feel while he'd been in the Med Bay - and at the very least, he could try and tarnish Jack's reputation even further while he was at it.
"Better make it worthwhile," he muttered, glancing back down at the gloves. He really, really hoped she didn't have to examine that part of him.
After talking to Jack, Katie had felt good enough about the whole situation to venture outside and into the Mess Hall, where she quietly took a seat and a salad near the back. She was as relaxed as she would ever get, when the overwhelming stench of blood made her jerk her head up.
Starting in shock, Katie stared at Victor for a long moment, face twisting slightly as she noticed where the dripping blood originated from. Piecing two and two together- well, who else would shoot Victor in the balls?- she quickly glanced around for an escape route.
Too late. Victor had already noted Katie's presence, and from the fun he'd enjoyed on their previous encounters, he was determined not to waste this opportunity to try and get her to freak out again. Smirking, he quickly made his way over to her, making sure to try and get as close to her as possible - six-foot-six of blood, sweat and muscle, topped off with a fanged grin. He was still in pain from the wound but it had begun to heal, and he bit back the residual ache with a wicked, grimacing smile.
The reek hit her nose long before he was actually towering over her, and she recoiled from it, flinching as he loomed over her. He looked like some horrible nightmare creation: hulking, bloody and menacing. Trying to look anywhere but at his face or bloodstained crotch, she stared mournfully as a drop of blood landed in her salad.
"Yeah," she said quietly, privately wondering how she could escape from her corner. "Somewhere where dick-blood doesn't end up in my food."
John stared at Victor and sighed, loudly as he leant back against the wall of the gym.
"What the hell happened to you Victor?"
John was accustom to seeing Victor in various stages of injury whether he was inflicting the wounds or suffering from them. The sight of the blood however wasn't what concerned John the most. Oh no. He was worried what the other guy looked like.
Comments 17
"Jack?"
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She'd been told to sit tight by Shaw, having managed a quick break out to the city with her bag, intending on not coming back when she'd just been informed that was where they wanted her.
Fair enough, she went back, after mailing the stupid gem back and lightening her load. It was easier to not attract attention without a cursed stone sitting in you back pack.
But even little thieves had to eat, and Jubilee didn't pass up a quiet moment in the mess. At least she'd thought it was quiet. When the big guy came in, Jubes would've normally bolted, instead, she sat there and stared.
He was bleeding all over the place.
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"Just let me know if I'm puttin' you off of your lunch, darlin'."
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Which was true. Sometimes, on the street, the food put you off food. "You pick a fight with a garden rake? One that knows how to use a gun?"
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She ignored them while stuffing her pockets full of gauze and anticeptic. He wasn't going to want to come to the Med Bay and so she had to bring it to him. She made sure to include a long pair of forceps in case she needed to pull anything out of his wounds. It might be pointless to offer medical treatment to a healing mutant but it was her job.
The blood made it easy to find him. She followed the trail to just outside the Mess Hall, where she darted in front of him.
"Let me take a look," she demanded, standing her ground.
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At first, Victor's stubborn pride refused him to allow Hope to poke and prod at him like some kind of human weakling; he knew the healing process was well under way by now, his torn flesh knitting itself back together, the bullets working their way free of his body as his body healed - but, as he stood his ground and glared at Hope, another realisation began to dawn on him as remembered exactly where the injury was located. Suppressing a wicked smirk, biting back the pain that was still very much there, he gave a half-hearted shrug.
"Huh, well... fine. If you gotta."
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"It'd be easier if we did this in the Med Bay," she said as she got a pair of rubber gloves from her pockets.
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"Better make it worthwhile," he muttered, glancing back down at the gloves. He really, really hoped she didn't have to examine that part of him.
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Starting in shock, Katie stared at Victor for a long moment, face twisting slightly as she noticed where the dripping blood originated from. Piecing two and two together- well, who else would shoot Victor in the balls?- she quickly glanced around for an escape route.
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"Goin' somewhere, sweetheart?"
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"Yeah," she said quietly, privately wondering how she could escape from her corner. "Somewhere where dick-blood doesn't end up in my food."
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"What the hell happened to you Victor?"
John was accustom to seeing Victor in various stages of injury whether he was inflicting the wounds or suffering from them. The sight of the blood however wasn't what concerned John the most. Oh no. He was worried what the other guy looked like.
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