[Social] Paying for Tuesday's Beers

[Will Stanton]

"National dish of the country," Will joked -- not that Thrax would have the context for it. "Can be a little bland at times for my tastebuds, but it's warming and filling."

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

"Bland? I thought it was Indian, not British," he responded, confused by the joke. He hated how dimwitted his ignorance made him come across.

[Will Stanton]

"It is, but we're still in Britain. And Indians had to make something for their delicate British palettes."

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

"Boo. I was hoping for something with some spice to it," he sighed. But he didn't dwell on it; instead, he shrugged, "Oh well. Still a new experience."

Perhaps greedily, he wished to experience everything life had to offer. The life of a monk truly hadn't been a good fit for his wanderer's soul.

[Will Stanton]

"See, this is why you're interesting. We're both after as many new experiences as we can get."

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

"What's the point in life if you don't live, am I right?" Thrax responded with a grin, "Otherwise you're just waiting around to die. Ride the storm, I say."

[Will Stanton]

"And I've waited along more than most. I find wasting time with boring people to be just that -- wasting time."

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

"Glad I made the cut!" He grinned proudly.

"More than most? Just how.—no, I know better than to ask a woman or variable gender identity their age."

[Will Stanton]

"You can just call me a fine wine; that covers most of the bases."

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

"No, you're a keychain," he joked. "A fine one in my handsome likeness."

Well, okay, he was aware that he was, aside from a muscular physique, far from any human standard of beauty—or even most similar species. But, as far as his people went, he was a quality specimen aside from being shorter than average.

[Will Stanton]

"I am whatever I need to be at all times," Will joked. "Whatever needs be."




From behind, the door to the diner opened, and a green-haired X-Man looked around, suspiciously.

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

Thrax casually glanced to the door when the little bell chimed and managed to turn back to his food without reacting. It wasn't his first time dealing with authority figures dogging his steps. If he just acted like everything was perfectly normal, the other Will had no reason to suspect him of anything.

"How the—please tell that's not the same you from the store."

[Will Stanton]

"Alright, I won't tell you that, but then you may be missing key pieces of information."

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

Thrax would just continue to play it cool unless something happened to give him away. Though, he didn't know what he'd do if something did; he had been honest when he said he didn't mean to cause any trouble. He just had a nasty habit of finding it.

"Here's hoping I get to eat before this goes south."

[Will Stanton]

"Why are you so worried, anyway?"

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

"Can you honestly tell me he happened to end up finding us by sheer dumb luck?"

[Will Stanton]

"No, but I can say that I'm really good at this, and all we did was fly away, not actually deal with the situation."

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

"What will he do if he catches us? I really can't afford to go to jail. There are... questions I can't answer."

[Will Stanton]

"...You need to get rid of him? This is something that's important to you?"

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

"Is that something you can do without making this worse?"

[Will Stanton]

"Define 'making this worse'."

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

"Putting me in trouble with your headmistress, for one. She's helping me with something and I can't jeopardize that."

[Will Stanton]

"I don't think Sam or Miriam would mind, though you never know with those two."

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

"Yeah, I have no idea who those people are. You're only the fourth university person I've gotten to know by name."

He was beginning to wonder if a whispered conversation was wise with someone looking for suspicious things was poking around. This would be so much easier if lady-Will wasn't a keychain.

[Will Stanton]

"Well, technically, that puts you at a much larger number, what with flyboy coming our way right now.

What do I get. If I take him out."

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

Fuuuck. I don't have anything to trade other than, well, my body. Or! Shit, I shouldn't do this but...

"How about the truth of why I'm being vague and cagey?"

[Will Stanton]

"Is it interesting?"

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

"If it's not, I would be very impressed with you."

[Will Stanton]

"Fine. I'll handle this, and you can submit yourself to the Test of Tales," Will nodded, sliding off of the keychain, down Thrax's side, and shooting up to full size, walking to intercept the other Will.

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

Thrax turned to watch, eager to see what the Wills were going to do.

This is going to be wild.

[Will Stanton]

"Hey there. #24, right?" Will -- err -- keychain Will? Lady Will? Willomina? -- smiled, as she walked up to the X-Man. "There's something you need to see in the back I could use a second opinion, and I don't know anyone who's opinion I respect more."


Putting an arm around Will's shoulder, Will led him towards the back and the kitchen -- if Thrax wanted to see what was happening, he'd have to at least discreetly follow.

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

Stealth was not something Thrax or even his people in general were particularly skilled at. And his loud outfit certainly didn't help matters. Nonetheless, he was curious enough to give it a try, "discreetly" moving to a better position from which to observe.

[Will Stanton]

"See, I think they've been reusing this oil more times than strictly allowed by health and safety regulations," Will was explaining to Will as they walked towards a row of deep fryers. "That's probably not great for the customers; plus, it's got this funky smell, you see what I mean?"

The X-Man leaned over the deep fryer -- which was when Thrax's Will grabbed him by the back of the head and *pushed*, the fryer erupting into a furious roar of bubbles and hissing.

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

What the actual fuck?!

Every ounce of his Stormsinger training told him to intervene, that this had gone too far. But, whether it was out of self-preservation or the odd fact that both attacker were the same person, he stayed out of it. His master would be ashamed by how far he'd fallen from the righteous path, but he was no longer in any position to play the hero.

[Will Stanton]

If you submerged a normal person's head into a deep fryer, that would likely cause serious damage, scarring -- possibly even death. Don't try that at home, kids.

Will Stanton, as Thrax would soon learn, was no normal person.

The fryer continued to bubble and froth as steam escaped -- the result of whatever liquid content was in Will's head boiling and escaping through his mouth, nose and ears -- anywhere there was an outlet. That was likely a bit distracting, but Will was a trained X-Man, and he swung his fist backwards towards Will, looking to clock the fae-ish woman and break her hold.

But Will was expecting this -- of course she was, she was the same person, after all -- and limboed under it. Using her free hand, she reached across the kitchen for a cleaver, and swung it fast and hard at the X-Man's neck with a wet *splutch* sound, as it went partly into to soft, wet clay and stuck there. She tried to pull it out again, but was knocked off her feet as the X-Man kicked at her, a single-leg takedown bringing her to the floor.

The X-Man pulled his head out of the fryer, oil splattering backwards. His head had hardened and cracked, a shard missing from his forehead where steam was still escaping, with more coming out of the gash in his neck caused by the cleaver. His face had hardened from the heat of the oil -- not fired, like a kiln, but charred on the surface, and partially melted, all signs of hair gone. He reached for the cleaver still stuck in his neck, and tried to pull it out.

But the girl was quicker. She didn't so much get to her feet as she shifted, going from a prone position to a pile of clay to a crouching position, coiled and ready to strike, as she fired forward. She drove her shoulder into the X-Man's midsection, driving him back and slamming him against the dishwasher. The jolt was enough to finish the job the cleaver started, the X-Man's head falling free from his neck and hitting the ground with an audible *crack*.

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

Deciding that he had seen way too much, Thrax retreated to his table. His food arrived at about the same time but he wasn't exactly hungry anymore. However, one sniff rendered that a delusional lie and he dug in. He didn't enjoy it as much as he would have but he had never tasted anything like it and that was worth something.

[Will Stanton]

About 15 minutes later, Will strutted out of the kitchen.

Uh...girl-Will; Thrax's-quasi-date-Will, not the X-Man.

She made her way back towards Thrax's table, a little bit the worse for wear. Her skin was gray in some spots, bare clay rather than flesh, and her face was....crooked. She was working on it, rubbing her fingers on -- and into -- her skin as she re-made her face.

"Well. That should keep you good for a white, at least," she said, sitting back down.

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

Thrax idly wondered where the kitchen staff was to not notice the struggle between the Wills. Or did everyone around here just willfully ignore their antics? Or maybe everyone in the kitchen was a Will.

"Had fun whacking yourself off?" he responded with a smirk.

[Will Stanton]

"Not particularly," she said, rearranging her face. "Oh, you can find some combat-oriented versions of me if you pull them out of the Cauldron. You could start your whole own fight club, if you wanted to. But it's not for me; not really."

[Thraxion Ord'Rakar]

He raised a furry brow, puzzled. "Cauldron?"

The alien was hoping that, in the scuffle, Will had forgotten about the price for the intervention. He was worried just how much he could get away with leaving out of his reasons for being vague about his situation. Will seemed to be a stickler for holding people to their word.