Cheetah
Villains 
This sort of thing doesn't happen to Barbara Minerva. I don't let it.
Posts: 129 
|
Post by Cheetah on Mar 28, 2017 22:05:51 GMT -5
The cruise through the Mediterranean had taken longer than usual, but then again, Barbara would have left from mainland Greece to head to Crete rather than Italy. But that would have been before there was a civil war currently going on through the country. From what she could tell, the conflict hadn’t reached the large island to the south, which was a bit of welcomed bliss. A new dig site had recently opened up in Knossos, and she had been itching to get back into the field, even if it was for only for a brief period of time. Not that two or three months was a brief trip by any means.
Artie had wanted to go along, a desire that Barbara was firmly against. He would get bored, she said. It would be hot there, she said. Long hours of being on your knees in the dirt and sifting through tiny fragments as you careful categorize them all in precise order. She listed every reason he would hate being there and, in the end, Artie let the subject drop, promising not to go. In return, she promised to bring him back something exquisite from the dig. Something for him and something for Laura. And so it was that she left the two in New York and had herself a little getaway. The first leg of her journey, she had traveled in style, as any wealthy woman would do. After all, she would be down in the dirt with the proverbial dogs soon enough. In fact, the ship that carried her across the Mediterranean was more work related rather than luxury, but it helped her get reacquainted with the life of an archeologist, something she had missed ever since the war had broken out.
The sun was hot and the air parched and dry, with only the occasional breeze coming off of the ocean to bring relief for those in the heat. Thankfully, Barbara was currently in the shade, though she was a far cry from her usual sophisticated look; auburn curls pulled back haphazardly, a few stray bits plastered to her forehead due to sweat and dirt. Her clothes were in an equal state of unkemptness; her white work blouse was now dusty while her khaki trousers and work boots were flecked with mud and glass stains. However, despite such an appearance, Barbara still drew glances from some of the male workers whenever she bent over or walked by.
She had been working under a tent on a selection of amphora that had been recently unearthed, or, much more precisely, uncovered. The ceiling of the room they were in had collapsed a long time ago and it was delicate work removing the tiles, stonework, and preserved supports without damaging the artifacts underneath. She took her time carefully brushing the layers of dirt from from each piece and handing them off to other workers for cataloging, since even debris of this sort was important. With each piece removed, it revealed more of the treasure trove underneath. She quietly hoped and prayed that at least one container would still be sealed with its cork. It was a thought that most people would find foolish, but for archeologists, that was the equivalent to hitting pure gold.
|
|
|
|
Post by Artie Cade on Mar 28, 2017 22:19:25 GMT -5
She'd said he would hate it. And, truthfully, he probably would. But Artie loved two things about Barbara the most: her all around charm and her innate inability to detect when he was pulling a fast one on her. And so, he offered the latter on this particular venture. He'd secured one of the suite cabins on the ship under a false name, for he and Mystique both, had only had food and drink delivered there privately, never left his room for fear she'd spot him and even hardly opened the window to allow his cigarette smoke to escape. And so upon waiting for most of the other passengers to disembark, Artie finally emerged himself, a cloud of smoke billowing out behind him. He was dressed in what he...could only assume would be better for the climate. It was a white linen suit in a style more militaristic than he was accustomed to, a Panama hat with a wide brim over his head, his dark lenses fixed onto the spectacles of his mask and a bamboo cane on the crook of his arm. He pulled his boots up to be certain they fit as snugly as might be expected over his scrawny calves and proceeded to tap the side of the cabin with his cane.
"Well, come on, grab the luggage!" he ordered, before shushing himself and pulling the lapels of his jacket up, "OH uh not you, Mystique, I meant the uh....yes."
They'd gone over the plan together already: they'd both fan out and look around the dig site for Barbara, whichever found her first would get the drop on her. It was almost a sort of challenge for them both. After all, what's a bit of intrusion on another's job between friends?
Of course, Artie knew full well that Mystique was the superior of the two of them when it came to espionage....and finding people....and many things. But Artie was nothing if not determined. Oh what he would have given to have Laura on his side, she was always his little hunter in these sorts of situations, bless her. Still, he had faith in his eyes enough to be able to find the little kitty first. Possibly. Hopefully. Regardless, it was all turning out well so far and typically his plans yielded some fruit.
He cleared his throat and walked out onto the now vacant deck of the ship as two attendants moved to grab he and Mystique's bags. He inhaled deeply and took in the...oh God, the heat. The breeze was nice but there was a lot of...nature here. Dusty sandy nature. What had he done. He scanned the dig site as he could see it through a pair of binoculars around his neck....if he were a betting man, which area would Barbara get to first. He considered what he knew about her. If everyone else were digging on one side more favorably she might choose the other...yet it was all such a jumble of people, he could hardly tell what was going on at all other than busywork. All for broken pieces of ancient whatnots.
Well, it would be curious to see Barbara at work at least, and so he limped down the gangplank and moved toward the dig site, searching around for her. He knew Mystique wouldn't be far behind if she hadn't beaten him to her selected spot already and as more people seemed to be coming in and out of the dig site, he certainly kept his eyes peeled for Barbara....well. He noted that the one with the curls falling at her shoulders...the one who couldn't be missed while she worked, bent over like that....had to be her there under that corner, under that tent. And if not? Could be amusing to watch anyway. He sloooowly limped over toward the figure....then he leaned around to the woman's side and cleared his throat, tilting his hat down over his face and moving to the side of her work area to be more visible.
This could go one of two ways. Surely she'd be delighted to see him. Plus this all meant shade too and he was certainly grateful for that, because otherwise...well he had very pale skin usually.
|
|
Cheetah
Villains
This sort of thing doesn't happen to Barbara Minerva. I don't let it.
Posts: 129
|
Post by Cheetah on Mar 29, 2017 22:56:00 GMT -5
The collapsed ceiling was now at a precarious point. Barbara had removed all of the easy parts and now was left with a veritable house of cards. One wrong tug and the whole thing would fall the rest of the way, damaging, or even destroying, the pottery underneath. With slow and careful precision, Barbara lowered herself between the amphorae and the collapse, hoping to see the full extent of the situation. Allowing her eyes to adjust, she counted perhaps two dozen pottery pieces in all, some of which were massive, wide-mouthed urns, and for a moment, Barbara just stayed there, admiring all of this.
She had cut her teeth on the Greeks, having read the mythologies at a very young age. She had always imagined herself as the main hero, and wondered whether or not any of it had been true. Troy had claimed to be found decades before she was born, but upon seeing photographs of the site, Barbara was rather disappointed at the meager size of the palace. There was no way a place that small could have withstood a siege that lasted ten years. Nor were there any glass walls. Supposedly, when the Greeks finally entered the city, they burned everything, and the fire was so hot that it turned the sandy, stone walls into glass. But then there was Knossos, the fabled palace of Minos, home of the Minotaur. And it was as vast as she had hoped for, it was as grand as she had imagined, and, more importantly, the bull imagery was present. This was myth come to life, and though the palace had been mostly excavated, there were still pockets to be explored and she was happy just to be included on this season’s dig. Pulling herself out of the daydream, Barbara estimated which piece should be removed next and carefully extradited herself.
The rhythmic tapping of hammers in the site masked the sound of his footsteps and cane. Dust was caught in her nose, otherwise she would have smelled him. Had she not been concentrating on her work, she would have been aware of his presence, but as it happened, it wasn’t until Artie cleared his throat that she even realized he was there. For a moment, she thought it was a fellow worker, needing help or advice on something, but then her ears caught a familiar catch in the throat clearing. Concentration broken, she whirled around and stared in disbelief at the presence of one Artie Cade standing not three feet away. Of course, her action had dislodged the piece of ceiling she was so carefully trying to tease out, and the shift began almost immediately.
“No! No, no, no!” Barbara yelled, making a hasty grab for the debris, hoping she could avert the inevitable disaster. Her efforts were only partially in vain. She twisted in time, putting herself in a bracing position between the artifacts and certain doom, but she could only hold things for so long. Even as other workers rushed to her aid, her leverage became awkward and weakened, soon leading to the sound no academic wanted the hear; the breaking of clay ceramics.
The damage was…. minimal, but Barbara was still emotionally stunned by it all, until the movement of a white clad figure caught her attention from the corner or her eye. Anger quickly revitalized her. “What the hell are you doing here, Arthur Cade?!” she yelled, leaping to her feet and glaring daggers at the smaller man. “I thought I told you not to come along! Do you have any idea what you've just done?!”
|
|
Mystique
Villains
Raven Darkholme is not a woman to be trifled with.
Posts: 107
|
Post by Mystique on Mar 30, 2017 14:48:51 GMT -5
"I believe he surprised you into dropping a ceiling on your finds," Mystique said, helpfully, from the body of one of the diggers. She shifted into her natural blue form, causing the people around her to jump backward in surprise, before stepping toward Barbara with a smirk on her face. She'd been there for a good solid hour or so. It was easy enough to hide for her. She had just decided to wait until Artie made a characteristically dramatic entrance. And, frankly, she found the dig site to be interesting enough that she wanted to see more. It made sense to her to keep a low profile so she could ... well ... dig around.
"I'm sorry we're kind of barging in," she said, though she knew Artie wasn't sorry. "Artie said you were coming to Greece, and it's been years since I've been. I thought it would be nice for the two of us to come." Alright, so it was only a half truth. She thought it would be fun to drop in on Barbara just as much as Artie did, but she wanted to offer the explanation that wouldn't get them yelled at or start a scene.
In a matter of seconds, her clothes shifted from dig appropriate clothing to a white sundress with a wide, white, floppy brimmed hat as she pulled a pair of sunglasses out of her purse. "Besides, we were in that cabin the entire cruise. I didn't get a second of sun, Artie," she said, glancing in Artie's direction. "Barbara, will you forgive the intrusion and join us for drinks when you have a chance?" Because, really. She was being entirely honest when she said she was only there for vacation. Though she hadn't spent very long in New York, she was eager to leave the city. She was so used to roaming, it felt uncomfortable to stay in one place too long, especially when she was still worried the city didn't hold much for her. But, she was working on that.
She otherwise paid no mind to the looks the people around her were giving her. She was starting to feel more comfortable in her own skin, blue as it was. Though it still bothered her, hearing the whispers behind her back, she was starting to find that it was easier to ignore once you made up your mind that being who you are means you shouldn't have to hide. And who was she to preach about mutant rights and visibility if she was constantly hiding herself? An old friend of hers wouldn't be happy to know she was that afraid, if he knew. She idly wondered if he was still alive, and if he was still his wonderfully eccentric self. |
|
|
|
Post by Artie Cade on Mar 30, 2017 15:03:22 GMT -5
Well that was the more likely of the outcomes, Artie reasoned. Still, not entirely as he had planned.
He removed his hat and offered a twitching smile.
"Uh....well, to my credit, I didn't do that..." he said as he pointed to where the shattering pots sound had come from, "Technically...you....did...?"
Realizing that that fact wouldn't get him anywhere, he straightened himself up and adjusted his spectacles on his mask.
"I mean uh....well, I um....I thought we uh..." he stammered, before Mystique appeared from the crowd much to his relief. He was half disappointed she'd been there the whole time, but mostly just glad to see her. He swiftly went over to her side, half hiding behind her.
"I mean....yes!" he said with a wide grin, "Drinks! At...some point! When all this junk is uh-I MEAN-stuff is cleaned up and taken in for....examining or whatnot."
A small, nervous chuckle escaped from him. He could see Barbara was in no mood, but to his credit he hadn't meant for it to quite go like this.
Still, it wasn't entirely surprising. Barbara was always at least a good deal more straight laced than he was, and she never usually took much to his particular brand of shenanigans. Thank hell Mystique ended up being here or Barbara might have dragged him off the dig site. Which she knew would embarrass him probably just as much as this embarrassed her. The whispers around those gathered were back and forth and usually in a properly low murmur, Artie looked around at all of them and they all seemed to be looking at Mystique or shaking their heads at what had just occurred.
"I just uh...thought it'd be a nice surprise, I suppose..." he managed with another small chuckle.
|
|
Cheetah
Villains
This sort of thing doesn't happen to Barbara Minerva. I don't let it.
Posts: 129
|
Post by Cheetah on Mar 30, 2017 20:42:03 GMT -5
Whatever color still remained on Barbara’s face drained away completely when she heard Mystique’s voice come from one of the workers. She was here too? What would happen next? Would Laura pop in, wearing a ceramic bull’s head and carrying a labrys? No, but things were made worse by Mystique assuming her natural, blue-skinned state in a sun dress, complete with a massive hat. Did she think this was all just some vacation that Barbara had wanted in order to get away from them? Here she was, actually doing a legitimate job and they show up, thinking it’s all for a laugh and a drink.
Barbara was shattered. Her co-workers were all whispering, with glances going from Mystique, to her, to Artie, and then back at Barbara. She was ruined. Deep down, she knew that it was only a matter of time before the heads of the dig found out about this mishap and she would be asked to pack her bags and leave. She would never be invited to any dig again, and if she was, it would never be something major or as exciting as the palace of Knossos. At most, she’d be sifting through neolithic trash heaps or unimportant, isolated burial mounds. “You thought it would be nice to come?” she repeated softly, as if in a daze.
It was Artie’s words that broke Barbara out of her stupor. Once more, her anger returned, this time a blinding heat that she had rarely ever experienced before, save for when she was at her most enraged point. She turned on the smaller man and, grabbing him by his shirt collar and jacket, practically dragged him to the outer expanses of the dig, indicating that Mystique should follow as well, to an area where they dumped all of the discarded dirt and rocks. It wasn’t completely isolated, but the mounds allowed them some privacy. “You lied to me, Arthur Cade! You told me you would stay home! You told me that!” she snarled, pointing a finger at him. “But here you are. You and Mystique. Is Laura here as well, or did you leave her behind to look after your little club and business? Do you have any idea what you have done?!” She was furious, eyes shifting into slits, which just added to her feral look as she paced back and forth in front of him.
“Drinks?! With you?! Why the hell would you think I’d be doing anything of the sort with you after this?! What do you think I was doing here?!” She suddenly drew closer to Artie, face mere inches from his as she spoke in a harsh and biting whisper. “This isn’t my operation. When I said I was invited to an archeological dig, I was telling the truth!” she hissed, wondering if he thought this was all a cover-up in order to smuggle artifacts out of the country. As quickly as she had gotten up into his face, Barbara was suddenly back to pacing around angrily. “This wasn’t some vacation. I’m here to work. From sun up to sundown, I intend to be digging through the dirt, sifting through the remains of a once great culture. Caked in dust and grime, spitting grit out of my mouth as I uncover the past. I swear to god, Artie, if you have ruined me…. if you or Mystique have caused me to lose any respect in my academical circles, it is over. I was invited to this. I was…” She stopped and looked at him. “Do you even know what this place is?" she asked, pointing to the structures behind her. "Four thousand years old, built by a culture that likely influenced the Greeks, over a thousand rooms, we think some areas were five stories high. This was the home of Minos, of the mythological Minotaur, filled with the most beautiful ancient frescoes I have ever seen, and you…” Hurt entered her voice as she remembered what Artie said, “you call it junk.” She blinked, eyes returning to normal now that she was emotionally drained, and walked over to a large boulder, sitting on it. “Go back to the port town, Heraklion, find a room for the night and then go back home. Or stay, I don’t care. I’m not leaving until I’m either asked to or the expedition is done.”
|
|
Mystique
Villains
Raven Darkholme is not a woman to be trifled with.
Posts: 107
|
Post by Mystique on Mar 30, 2017 23:45:52 GMT -5
Well, there it was. Mystique felt terrible. She honestly had no idea what had brought Barbara to Greece, but she knew she wanted out of the city. The thought had never occurred to her that Barbara's career might be on the line and that just showing up would be unwelcome. In hindsight, she should have thought of that, but since she hadn't, there wasn't much to be done about it now. They were here, they'd made their terrible impression, and the best she could do was apologize and try to make things better. Well, as best she could, anyway. It was out in the open that she was a mutant, so she wasn't sure how open minded the supervisors of the dig would be, taking recommendations from a blue woman. She could only hope they'd listen, if she offered her sincerest apologies.
She instinctively held an arm up to protect Artie, upon seeing the slits in Barbara's eyes. Could she always do that? Not that she was aware of. The usually cool and collected mutant was faltering in something resembling fear of the unknown. She let Barbara speak, trying not to stare. She knew what it felt like to be stared at, and it wasn't a good feeling. But she could exactly help it. She was almost sure Barbara had no abilities to speak of, so how was this happening? Was she a mutant? She couldn't tell, and it was driving her crazy.
But the proposal of them leaving was a step too far, she thought. She stepped in and calmly held her hands up. "I asked Artie to take me to Greece," she said. Not a total fabrication. "I didn't know you had been invited on a dig, or I would have asked to come here another time. I just thought it would be a nice surprise." At the very least, she hoped to draw Barbara's anger away from Artie. She didn't know what she was getting into, but she was sure she could handle it better than Artie could. "If it would help, I wouldn't mind talking to the people that invited you here to reassure them that you had nothing to do with what happened. I'll take responsibility. I'll even help dig if it'll help make up for anything. I really am sorry about all of this."
There was so much more she wanted to apologize for, but she didn't think Barbara was in the mood to hear it. She slid an arm around Artie and held him close, to reassure him that she was there, and spoke softly to him. "Come on. Let's find a hotel near the port. Drinks are on me. We'll figure out where to go from here, alright?" She looked back up at Barbara, the most genuinely apologetic look on her face. "I can't tell you how sorry I am."
|
|
|
|
Post by Artie Cade on Mar 30, 2017 23:59:49 GMT -5
Artie didn't know what to say.
He was never a man who was at a loss for words, but he had never seen Barbara this furious....well, not at him. He instinctively backed away from her slightly when her eyes turned to their cat-like slits and stumbled a bit, catching himself on his cane. His immediate thought was to be angry. After all, he hadn't caused Barbara to flail about and wreck anything. He was just standing there! But regardless of who was at fault, it was his presence that contributed to it and that was fair enough.
And when Barbara threatened for it to be...over....from all this, from what he'd said...that made his heart sink. He looked down at his shoes in the sand and shuffled them slightly.
Artie Cade was a small man, but he felt even more so now.
When Mystique came over to them and tried to explain things, even offer some mild fabrication, he allowed her to say it. He didn't correct her. He was spending his moment considering what he might say next himself. There didn't seem to be much more to add, and so he looked up at Barbara and began to speak, but his words fumbled in his mouth. He looked back down in frustration before he looked back up at her.
"....I'm sorry...." he said in the smallest voice he'd perhaps ever used, "We'll....yes, we'll be going."
He moved toward her for a moment, having never parted company without at least kissing her hand goodbye, but it didn't feel proper after this level of problem, and he stopped himself, taking Mystique's hand instead and limping around Barbara.
That was when a cacophony filled the air and Artie looked up only just in time to spot a roofless car charging toward him at full speed. He gasped in absolute shock and shoved Mystique out of the way as the car zoomed riiiiight up to him....before the engine began to smoke and it stopped, dinging right up against his middle, but softly. When he managed to open his eyes again, having anticipated a swift death, he looked around....what the hell...
"HaHAA!" came an older Englishman's voice, slurred beyond belief, "So sorry, old chap, nearly quite made you a part of the find, what!"
Said older English gentleman toddled over to Artie and began to dust him off. Which was unusual, as Artie hadn't a speck of dirt on him.
"Terribly sorry, terribly sorry indeed!" he sputtered, "Gracious, that'll never do, OH WILL YOU STOP IT!"
The last bit was shouted at the car engine, which the man slapped...which made the smoking vehicle cease. He was a man of average size, but in his 80's, if Artie had to guess, in military dress one might have seen in Africa. A large pith helmet adorned his head and he wore a handful of medals on his breast pocket. He looked around, looked back down at Artie, spun around, then looked back at the dig.
"Oh!" he exclaimed, "I say, spectacular! Seems exciting, all this digging and digging and digging and digging, what! Never took to it, myself, couldn't find the time or the historical places for it. Lines were too long, couldn't be bothered, what!"
He laughed heartily and slapped a bewildered Artie on the back.
|
|
Cheetah
Villains
This sort of thing doesn't happen to Barbara Minerva. I don't let it.
Posts: 129
|
Post by Cheetah on Mar 31, 2017 20:10:20 GMT -5
Mystique’s explanation was not entirely true. Barbara was close enough that she could smell a little bit of a lie coming from her, but not enough for Barbara to hate her further. The look on Mystique’s face was enough to tell her that she wasn’t the guilty party in this, just another sort of victim here. “I don’t know if your efforts and reassurances will help, but they won’t allow you to dig. You’re not a part of the official team and they would need to verify whether or not you know what you’re doing. It’s not as simple as taking a shovel, picking a spot, and going at it all willy-nilly. There are procedures to follow,” she informed the blue woman, trying to keep her voice as impassive as possible. Inside, Barbara wanted to either scream or start crying and she wasn’t sure which would win out.
Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. Barbara knew that if she turned and looked at Artie right now, the tears would start flowing.
She sat upon the boulder, trying to collect her thoughts and keep her emotions in control when the sound of tires on dirt and gravel, and the roar of an engine caused her to look up in time to see a car barrel straight towards Artie. Scrambling, she leapt from the rock and ran for him, only to see the vehicles stop right in front of him, close enough that Artie’s suit was probably marked by the front grill and bumper. The driver then stepped out, and that caused Barbara to stop and furrow her brow in confusion. He shouldn't be here. Surely her eyes were playing tricks on her and this was all due to her current stress. Blinking, Barbara looked again to confirm everything.
He was older since she had last seen him, his hair having perhaps a tad more white to it now, but no one else could wear muttonchops like him. Just like no one else could wear that uniform with such precision and poise. He could likely fall in a puddle and, upon standing, the water and mud would simply fall away out of awe and respect for the man, leaving him utterly untouched.
Hearing his voice again made Barbara breathe just a little faster, eventually causing her to sniffle, whether it be from the dust that was kicked up or emotions, she wasn’t sure and didn’t care. Lastly, there was the man’s gait; he still had that odd hitch to it. Nothing terrible enough to make him disabled, but just enough to make it unique and memorable. Barbara didn’t realize just how emotional she was getting over seeing this man until she tried to speak and her voice caught in her throat before breaking. “Uncle Rothchild?” she squeaked. “Uncle Roffs?” She was in motion before the ’s’ was past her lips, and, just as quickly, Barbara was hugging her great-uncle tight, not even caring why he was here and not in India.
|
|
Mystique
Villains
Raven Darkholme is not a woman to be trifled with.
Posts: 107
|
Post by Mystique on Apr 10, 2017 14:27:41 GMT -5
Well, the conversation hardly went in the direction Mystique hoped it would. Artie was a wreck. She'd never seen him so distraught. It was all she could do not to just pick him up and promise him the world right then and there. For now, she just took his hand and started to lead him down the trail toward the port. They would get a hotel room and try to make a plan, whether they were going to stay in Greece or not. Or, alternatively, she could just find a way to make him happy. That was as far in advance as she was planning.
At least, until the cacophony started. Instinctively, she stepped in front of Artie, only to be shoved out of the way. Shocked and dazed that he would do such a thing, she laid in the dirt, staring helplessly as the car sped toward him ... and inexplicably stopped no more than an inch from his chest. It was only after the car had stopped that she realized she wasn't breathing. She gasped and scrambled to her feet, but froze when she heard a familiar voice.
It was older than she remembered, but there was no mistaking it, or the man it was attached to. She wouldn't say he was looking more frail, but the years had certainly caught up to him, and he was as cartoonish a man as he had ever been. "Reginald?" She was about to throw her arms around him before Barbara beat her to it. Uncle Roffs? Oh, this was about to be awkward.
She let Barbara hug her uncle, though Mystique suspected he was more of a great-uncle, before stepping into his line of sight and smiling at him. "Hello, Reginald. It's been a long time." It dawned on her that he wouldn't recognize her like this. He had never seen her in her true blue form. So, to remind him, she shifted into the face she had used when they first met on the boat that first day to India all those years ago, Edwardian dress and all. The image was fleeting, but it was from long enough ago, that she had used her real name to introduce herself to the charming gentleman.
When she was herself again, she had that same old smile she would give him when they spoke of adventure. That smile, no matter the face, never changed.
|
|
|
|
Post by Artie Cade on Apr 11, 2017 21:01:16 GMT -5
Artie was....dazed and baffled by all of this. First an insane old Englishman tries to run him over. Then doesn't. Then hops out and toddles about him for a bit. Then Barbara hugs him and calls him her uncle. Then Mystique recognizes him presumably and just...what was happening?
His dumbfounded expression did not hide his confusion well at all. Plus he was still reeling emotionally from the exit he and Mystique were about to perform that had now been interrupted by the arrival of this...weirdo.
Rothchild, on the other hand, was aghast and delighted.
"Barbs?" he asked as he was embraced, looking the woman over and then exclaiming and returning the embrace, "BARBS! HaHAAA! Good gracious me, child, what are you doing HERE? Of all places in all the world, I find my little Barbs here? HAH! How perfectly marvelous! How are you?! How have you been?! Where are you living these days?! What's the time?!"
He asked these questions all in rapid, uninterrupted succession before he noticed over Barbara's shoulder a face...and a smile...he had not seen for many a long year.
"....Mystique?" he asked, blinking rapidly, "Upon my soul....is that you? Where have you been all these years?? HAHA! Oh my indeed! You look as lovely as the day I first met you! And look at me, I'm an old man!"
He chortled and kissed Barbara's head as he moved toward Mystique, bringing Barbara with him and entirely forgetting about the ugly child he had nearly run over.
"Barbs, you must meet Mystique!" he said, "Many an adventure she and I shared, what! Mystique, this is Barbara Minerva, she is my uh....my what, uhhh...great...niece or....BAH! Whatever the term is! Close relation, what!"
With another belly laugh he removed his pith helmet and looked between them both.
"Oh good Lord," he said as he dabbed at the mild sweat on his forehead with his handkerchief, "I had best not get so excited! Oh, gracious."
|
|
Cheetah
Villains
This sort of thing doesn't happen to Barbara Minerva. I don't let it.
Posts: 129
|
Post by Cheetah on Apr 11, 2017 22:52:44 GMT -5
Barbara giggled upon being embraced by Rothchild, a sound that likely neither Artie nor Mystique had heard her make up to that very moment. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in India,” she playfully chided him. “I’m here on work. The palace of Knossos dig site. I was invited to come along and help them excavate a couple of new finds.” It was as if a change had come over her and Barbara was someone entirely different. The slight superiority she held in her voice and stance was gone, replaced by what could only be described as a sort of giddiness and regression of social graces that happens when one sees a long-lost and dearly loved relative. “I’m doing quite well. I’ve been vacationing in America for a little bit. The…” She paused and looked a bit sheepish. “The estate is…. You know how big it is. It gets lonely and I needed a change of pace.” That was true. But the change of pace had taken her to Africa before continuing on to America. But, Barbara sounded embarrassed, almost nervous over telling her uncle that she was not currently living at home.
Barbara was used to his rapid-fire way of talking, however, she was not prepared for him to speak Mystique’s name. She turned, mouth agape in shock and surprise, only to become confused upon seeing her as a woman in Edwardian clothing, like what her grandparents would have worn. Rothchild’s words deepened the mystery. He knew her? But how, and from where? Lovely as the day they met, with him now an old man? How old was Mystique? Uncle Rothchild was likely in his eighties, but Mystique? She…. Barbara thought that she was around her age. Clearly this was a mistake, but how was this possible? Did her shapeshifting powers keep her young? If that was the case, she could be centuries old, maybe more.
“You know her, Uncle? Mystique and I… we know each other already. I just didn’t expect you and… and…” For once, Barbara was at a loss for words. She just stood there, looking between her uncle, Mystique, and Artie, who looked equally bewildered. However, the moment Rothchild wiped his forehead, a look of concern passed over Barbara’s face. “What can I get you, Uncle? Water? A place to sit? Why are you even here in Crete? I thought you were still in India. Your last letter mentioned nothing about you coming here.” India had been his home away from home for as long as Barbara could remember, so for him to leave, it was quite the bit of news. One he wouldn't normally forget to tell her.
|
|
Mystique
Villains
Raven Darkholme is not a woman to be trifled with.
Posts: 107
|
Post by Mystique on Apr 21, 2017 13:07:48 GMT -5
As purely excited as she was to see the bumbling old character, Mystique turned her attention to Artie, who seemed dazed and confused by everything. She took his hand and looked at him, quietly trying to reassure him that things were going to work out. Though, if she was honest with herself, she would admit she was a little insulted that Barbara was furious with them for showing up, but not with her uncle for almost killing Artie. For herself, she was trying to remain calm so at least one person there had a level head, which was hard to do when someone like Rothchild entered the picture. When he was around, propriety seemed to go out the window in the most delightful ways possible.
She kissed Artie, in hopes of at least cheering him up a little before turning her attention back to Rothchild and Barbara. This situation was already awkward, what with Reginald introducing people that were already friends to each other. Instead of dwelling on it, she calmly and sweetly extended her arms and brought Rothchild into a fond embrace, resting her cheek upon his shoulder. "My dear man, I wouldn't call you old," she said. After all, she was much older than he was, though she was loath to admit it to anyone. "You're still as handsome as ever." She smiled and kissed his cheek, taking a moment to admire the fact that, well, he was still handsome to her.
After a moment, she turned and gestured to Artie, taking her lover's hand and pulling him into the mix. "This is Artie Cade, Reginald. The man you almost hit with your car. He's ..." Oh, how to put it, with Barbara here? "... Another dear friend of both mine and Barbara's. Much like you were, back in the day." There, that probably wouldn't step on any toes or make any one too uncomfortable. Probably.
She smiled at all of them and looked at Barbara. "You were saying you needed to get back to your dig, weren't you? Why don't I take Artie and Reginald to lunch and you can catch up with us when you have a free moment? After all the trouble we've already caused you, I'd hate to interfere more with your work." Unless she was going to drop everything for Rothchild instead of them. That wouldn't be hurtful at all. She playfully kissed both Artie's and Rothchild's cheeks again, grinning like an idiot at how happy she was getting, being around two men she adored.
|
|
|
|
Post by Artie Cade on May 2, 2017 20:02:48 GMT -5
Artie nervously met the....strange gentleman who had so confused the emotions that had previously been going on.
"H-hello, sir-" Artie said as he shook the man's offered hand, "I uh...well nice driving, really, but I think we'd best be going. Mystique?"
But Rothchild seemingly wouldn't have it as he clapped Artie hard on the shoulder.
"Fiddlesticks, boy!" he laughed, "We've all got to go together, would hardly be proper to just part ways so quickly! Even for a short time."
The older man looked at his niece and smiled, shaking his head.
"Oh no no no, dear, I am quite all right," he said, "As to why I am here...well I seem to be everywhere these last few months. Traveling the world again, you know! Why if I could do it once, why not again? See what everyone is up to! Look here! Digging up old things, how marvelous! HAH!"
He gestured to the dig site.
"Things ancient civilizations have forgotten! Now treasures of ours." he said shaking his head, "It's wonderful, truly it is!"
Still not quite knowing how to react, Artie shifted his way behind Barbara and Mystique, as he was wont to do when he was unsure about the outcome of something. This man was...some kind of wizard or...?
"NOW!" Rothchild said, clapping his hands together, "I propose we find ourselves a uh-"
There was a loud gunshot.
And the sound of an approaching motor.
Rothchild whirled around, holding his pith helmet on his head as he did so.
"Oh. Well, bugger." he offered.
A much less flashy car was thundering its way toward the dig site, poorly dressed men hanging off the sides all wielding rifles and shouting.
"THERE HE IS!" one bellowed, "THAT'S MY CAR!"
"No it isn't!" Rothchild retorted before his pith helmet was shot clean off his head, "And that was also mine!"
|
|
Cheetah
Villains
This sort of thing doesn't happen to Barbara Minerva. I don't let it.
Posts: 129
|
Post by Cheetah on May 5, 2017 17:47:19 GMT -5
Mystique’s words were a subtle jab at Barbara, but one that she felt rather sharply. She wanted to be at her uncle’s side because she loved him dearly. After all, Uncle Rothchild was the only relative she had living that she still loved. But, if she stayed to spend time with him, feelings would most definitely be hurt, mainly on the part of Mystique. She seemed to take things to heart quite easily. “You’re right. Though I would love to simply slip away and be with the three of you, now is not the time. Perhaps, if I’m lucky… exceedingly lucky… and my colleagues do not ask for me to remove myself from the dig site immediately, I will see you later tonight. It shouldn’t be too hard to find you; a blue woman, a short, redheaded man with a limp, and my great-uncle.” Giving her uncle a kiss on the cheek and a gentle look towards both Mystique and Artie, Barbara took a deep breath and steeled herself for whatever may come upon returning to the head tent. Her heart was hammering and her eyes stung from the kicked up dust and tears that she refused to let fall. This was her life, even more so than what she contributed towards the black market. If this ruined her, Barbara wasn’t sure what she would do. Best just to get it over with as soon as possible.
At least, that was her intention. Despite his age, Rothchild had a rather strong grip, so extricating herself from his arms was a bit of an undertaking. Then there came the gunshots and the sound of an approaching motor. The second bullet that sent his pith helmet flying was reason enough for Barbara to grab her great-uncle and dive behind the nearby boulders in the field. “Uncle, I love you and your antics dearly, but what did you do? Aside from apparently stealing a car and angering the locals enough that they want to kill you?” Would the gunfire be heard from the dig site? More importantly, even if it was, would people come investigate and would it be the guards used to secure the excavation from theft? Her own operations had such measures around the clock, but what they did was hardly legal and far more damning if they were caught and reported. Here, she had no idea if there were daytime guards or not. Looking for Artie and Mystique, she yelled to them, not wanting this to escalate into a pointless bloodbath. “Let me talk to them first! Perhaps we can work this all out!”
Giving her uncle the same look of ‘let me handle this’, Barbara removed a handkerchief and held it up as a flag of truce before slowly getting to her feet. “Gentlemen, gentlemen, there is no need for gun violence. May I ask what this is all about? I’m sure we can work this all out and not resort to such hostilities,” she said, holding her hands up and walking slowly towards them, heart hammering.
|
|
