|Marvel: In the Beginning...|
The townhouse at night - an inordinate amount of lights are on, and it sounds like music is blaring loudly throughout. The kitchen's, for lack of a better word, a disaster. There's torn plastic and burnt stuff and the unmistakable smell of barbecue in the kitchen. The oven's open, still in the process of 'cooling off.' The majority of the music seems to be coming from downstairs. And the smell of barbecue continues in there.
It's been an interesting day to say the least. Magneto and Nix have gone off to take care of something after today's excitement, leaving Jeremy to enter the townhouse by himself. The stench of burning makes the feral hiss and his ears go back. "What the hell?" he waves a large hand in front of his nose as he goes to investigate. "Ya burnin' down the house?" he says to who ever might be about. Mystique? Amelia? hello? He checks out the kitchen and makes sure the oven is off. Then once things are up off the floor (He doesn't want Magneto coming home to that..!!) then he immediately goes to find what ever is blaring the music. His ears are ringing!
Upon the nice wooden floor is an unsightly pile of bones, meat, and barbecue sauce. Sitting upon the ceiling is a lean, greenish fellow who's currently headbanging to the hard rock that blares. And indeed, its from a nearby stereo, cranked up. When the cat's away, the mice gotta play, and Toad's doing what he can while he can. Also, there's what looks like a half rack of ribs in his hands, the other half of which seems (somewhat) eaten and piled on the floor, in said pile.
Jeremy does not look amused. If anything he just looks tired. And there's a good bit of grey powder or dust on him. It smells like brick or masonry. "..Ha. ha. ha. " he murmurs as he stares up, a brow ridge arching at the tongue. His whiskers fan out. "... thats... okay.." he waves a hand. "So who are you?" he asks, ignoring the strange odor. Who's he to judge what some one smells like? he's lived out on the streets and occasionally gets fleas.
Mortimer Toynbee lifts a finger to pick at his teeth, before sucking the meat off another bone. "Suit yerself. Oh? Ya not been told 'bout me? Even on the news an' whatnot? Call me Toad," he says with a broad green, lifting up his goggles and revealing his yellow eyes down at the youth, "proud member in standing of the Brotherhood o'Mutants. Subordinate t'the mighty Magneto, messiah an' leader of our people!" Sounds a little fanatic, but hey.
After Sasha's omg your magneto! fangirling, Jeremy isn't quite as surprised to hear Toad fanboy over the man. He is a pretty... powerful and inspiring man. "They haven't exactly given me a list o' everyone who's about.. why would they? " he says matter of factly. "I'm.. Jeremy... so.. what'd you do to get into the news?" he asks, since Toad brought it up. Might be handy to know.
Mortimer Toynbee gives a little shrug. "I'm sure y'know how t'type. I post a lot o'my exploits online, mate. No videos or nothin', but I do post on the forums o'various news articles, claimin' responsibility. Either way, I'm no mutant t'be trifled by th'petty dealin's o'humanity." He scoffs and spits out the bone, which hits the floor with a clatter. "But I do lots'o things. Friends O'Humanity? I ain't no friend t'them, an' they know it. Hop on one o'their websites an' look me up. I'm sure it'll say 'extremely dangerous,' which I'm proud t'agree with."
Jeremy's ear swivels and then twitches briefly. "Yea I know how to type." he frowns, his whiskers folding back. "Just ain't had a lot o' time to go surfin' lately.." He glances down at the pile of bones. Food is sounding like a really good idea. "Don't suppose ya know how to clean up the kitchen... it looks like a war zone.. some how I doubt Magneto is gunna be too keen on findin' that when he gets back." Mortimer Toynbee swallows, looking this way and that. "Take the fall for a mate, eh?" he offers with a grin. "An' sure, I know how to clean, but... well, they ain't here, are they?" He drops, hitting the floor with a thump and looking back and forth, crouched as if ready to spring away.
Jeremy's ears go flat and his tail lashes. "I ain't yer maid or anyone else's. Clean up yer own damn mess... but hey, when they come askin' who left that $#^- about I ain't gunna lie. If it's between livin' out in the streets or on the couch here, I ain't riskin' being thrown out over yer garbage.." he snorts.
Mortimer Toynbee shoots Jeremy a look. "If you think Magneto would throw a mutant out of his graces due to simple uncleanliness then you don't have yer facts straight one bit, mate. This building's temporary. Its a safehouse. Its meant fer us to bolt into as a temporary arrangement. Sure, this place is nice fer th'time bein', but its fleetin' all the same. We're at *war*, Jeremy." He scoffs. "An' a messy kitchen won't stop it."
Jeremy shrugs. "Whatever.." he mumbles out. "I guess we'll see if they care o' not.." and that's just what Jeremy plans to do. If the others don't care then why should he. But he's not about to go cleaning up after some one else. The mess may annoy him, but it's the principle of the thing! "Jus' keep the music down, okay. It hurts my ears.. ya wanna blast it when I'm not around then fine.. " he murmurs and brushes some of the masonry dust off his arm.
Mortimer Toynbee gives a nod. "Can do that easy enough, mate. Keep the music to a tolerable level, got it." He licks some sauce off a hand, before offering the remainder of the ribs. "You keep givin' the pile eyes like its a fresh kill, mate. Here."
Jeremy tilts his head, studying this 'Toad' person, as if trying to decifer if the offer is a honest one or a trick. Then reaches out to take it. It's food.. and he is hungry.
Mortimer Toynbee was indeed sincere about the offer, and he lets go when the felinoid takes the remaining half rack. "Don't worry Jeremy. Even if'n it were raw, I bet yer the type to be able t'eat it that way." He chuckles, before flopping onto a couch, lazily.
Jeremy utters a quick thanks before gnawing into the ribs, not even bothering to tear them apart. Between teeth and cat tongue the ribs are soon nothing more than ultra clean bones. At least he doesn't eat the bones themselves. Not much marrow in ribs. He does not however toss them on the ground, for now he holds onto them. "Yea, it could.. cooked is fine too.. " especially when it's got sauces and salts and spices upon it! "...so you been with the 'hood long?" he inquires, leaning up against a wall.
Mortimer Toynbee gives a firm nod. "Since, like, its inception, I guess. I was one o'the first," he says proudly, giving a broad grin. "Yeah. Magneto found me in England."
Jeremy nods back. "That's cool... So some time after that Mystique gal.. an' Amelia?" he guesses. "I thought I'd heard they weren't so insane about the whole mutant thing across the pond huh?"
Mortimer Toynbee shrugs. "Think I mighta been around before Amelia." He looks at his fingernails, shrugging. "They're pretty insane about the mutant thing the world over, mate. The US just has a media that's utterly bonkers. You think I ain't had my share o'prejudice an' ridicule, well you'd be wrong. Even Magneto 'imself has seen some o'the worst things humans can do."
Jeremy had noticed the tattoo on Magneto's arm. Wondered what it meant. He hasn't exactly met many Jews from that era. Most are dead now. Or incredibly old. He shrugs. "I doubt there are any muties that haven't.. not unless they look totally human.. an' don't ever show their powers ever." which he imagines might be possible.
Mortimer Toynbee shrugs. "Or if what you get is somethin' really lame, like, uh, growin' out yer fingernails like Meg in Family Guy," he chuckles. "But anyway... so, Jeremy, right? How'd Magneto find you?"
Jeremy tilts his head and shrugs, shoving his hand into one of his pockets. The other one hands free still holding the ribbones. "He didn't.. Nix did, she told me about this place. So I knocked.. Nix was here an' so was Magneto an' Amelia.. they said I could wander in whenever I wanted.. " and so he has.. wandered in now and again.
Mortimer Toynbee nods, raising a brow. "Well, that's easy, innit?" he chuckles. "We're branded as freaks an' terrorists... well, I guess you could say we are, to humans. Like I said, Jeremy, we're at war. A war based on genetics an' how we're born, an' evolution an' workin' on bein' on top proper, like we belong."
Jeremy shrugs. "Eh.. woulda been nicer if I'd run into em a few years ago." he says flatly. "I'd settle for just not gettin' wiped out." he murmurs. "Ain't exactly enough o' us to take over.."
Mortimer Toynbee blinks. "Says who? In the old days, it was people who could read what were in power. The educated. Back then, knowledge was power. Today, we've got power beyond knowledge. Yer a beast among yer comrades, an' I bet you can tear apart a soldier in moments, if'n ya tried. Speaking of... what *can* you do, anyway? Magneto's been talkin' t'me about commandin' a cell o'sorts. Are you even part o'the Brotherhood official-like?"
Jeremy stares as he listens to Toad's speil. His head tilts, the ears swiveling forward. ".. Yea an' I can get blown up by a SCUD missile just as easily as the next person too." he says apathetically. "Now I ain't saying we shouldn't be in charge, but I'm not about to assume that just cause individually we might be bad @$$es, that we can't get our collective @$$es handed to us when o' if they start rollin' out tanks, an' modern artilary.."
Mortimer Toynbee smirks and shakes his head. "Y'know how many casualties are risked by their own people? If they wanna take us out with a missile, they'll be takin' out their own mates. An' believe you me, mate, I'm more'n match for a tank. Sure, I can't quite knock it over but I could disable it right quick if'n I felt like it. I know the ins an' outs o'lots o'machinery, guns an' experimental tech included. Did lots'o studyin'. I'm a wiz with IEDs, too," he says proudly. "We're capable. An' there's more of us than you think. We're jes' in the early stages, is all."
Jeremy arches a brow ridge. He's not quite sure he believes the slightly green fellow's boastings. But he's not going to call him on it. Gut feelings don't equal proof. "They might do it, if they got scared enough.. might call it acceptable losses.. " he says "Alot o' it depends on whos' got the finger on the triggers.. " and at the moment Jeremy doesn't exactly trust the US government. "If ya can take out a tank by yer lonesome, remind me not to get on yer $#^- list." he half jokes. Then he yawns. "I'll see ya later man.. It's been a hell o' a day an' I hear the couch callin' me.." he yawns once again and raises a hand in a wave.