Drunk with a stranger (Jolt)

[Jolt]

Finish me then. Will takes a swing before he realizes that Nikk lurches closer. He is surprised, but this does not shock him out of finishing the job, thinking that the Russian is finally starting to get wise. Instead, Nikk's weight comes crashing towards him, and the two fall down in a heap again in a tangle of limbs, only half of them thrashing and flexing beneath the strain. A loud exclamation escapes him, which either consists of 'fuck' 'goddammit' or a combination of the two, his fresh burn wound now being ground into the concret, flaking the skin away in rough jerks. Compared to Will, a smally-fry in comparison, Nikk is heavy, and it does him no good with most of his upper body pinned, unable to heave the guy off of him without some tricky maneuvering that would otherwise cause him pain as the burn drags across the concrete at Will's own expense.

A fine sheen of sweat has broken across his dark brows, and Will growls and shouts another obscenity, attempting to shove Nikk off of him with one arm, the other trapped beneath him. His muscles burn with the continuous strain and the redhead goes lax for a few moments, panting and hissing between his teeth. Again and again he tries but to virtually no avail until he at last painfully jerks his arm out from underneath him, biting his tongue so hard to keep from making a sound of response to his injury that he almost draws blood. With a grunt he tenses his entire body and heaves once hard, hoping at least that Nikk will roll over off of him.

"Gerroff goddamit!"

[Nikkolas Blagetovich]

Nikk was now an acting heap of dead weight. That punch was insane, like nothing he'd been hit with before. It's like the electricity that flowed so gracefully within Will's body, took what strength he had in him right out of his face. He was totally unbalanced and all around fucked up. Nikk's body was sprawled over Will's....again. This time it was different though, it wasn't by Nikk's will that he was there this time.

Nikk made weak eye contact with Will for a moment. <You're stronger then you look...you win.> Will gave one very powerful push, and with that, Nikk was off and on the ground, at the mercy of Will once again.

[Jolt]

<You're stronger than you look...you win.>

"Stay out of my head you motherfucker!" Will growls, the title of winning apparently not making him any more civil as he precariously balances on his hands and knees and ignores his twitching bicep. Inwardly, the boy man can feel a sense of almost pride, or something akin to it. He'd laid out a man with just a few punches that had to be at least a head and a half taller than him and a lot heavier. He'd never deny how fuckin' good it felt either, always oppressed by those taller bastards that were all bark and no bite. Huh. He'd shown them what was what and he'd shown this bastard too. He'd kick the next dumbfuck's ass too that attempted to undermine him, trying to tell him that size was power (not that the Russian had done that in the first place--albeit however good it felt to accuse him of something.)

"Don't start something you can't fuckin' finish," he growls--a statement that sounded like a broken record to him, too weary to finish Nikk or to continue to bludgeon him with his fists. He grumbles and turns to inspect his own arm, a hard line creasing his brow in doubt that it'd kill him, though it had been rubbed raw with his jerking across the pavement with Nikk's weight on him.

[Nikkolas Blagetovich]

"Stay out of my head you motherfucker!"

This kid either didn't get it, or he was just a straight up hard ass. Telepathy was the only effective method of communication that he could use at the moment. As he laid there, he began to gain some sensibility back. He looked up to the boastful, and prideful Will. Even without using his telepathy, he could feel the aura around Will now that he thinks that he beat Nikk.

Nikk knew that no matter what, even if he thrashed Will to a bloody pulp that he'd never give up, and come to bite him in the ass in the end, not that he let Will lay him out on the pavement. That was a very painful blow. Nikk wasn't a sore looser though, and would act as a beaten Russian would be.

He began to get up. He started by getting to his knees, then to his feet eventually. He stood, brushing himself off, "Let me buy you another drink." He bowed his head slightly, to let Will know that he was dominant. "It is only honorable that the looser buy zhe vinner a drink at least." He had no idea where this would take him, or how Will would react to it.

[Jolt]

Tense and ready again by a rush of adrenaline, Will jerks himself to his feet as Nikk rises, hands already clenched and letting his eyes search the sable-headed boy's face as though searching for a target and waiting to just--Let me buy you another drink. What the fuck? The expression similiar for this crawls across his face, clearly in disbelief that this guy is about to buy him a drink for kicking his ass--or as the thought process so says in Will's one-track mind.

It is only honorable that the loser buy zhe vinner a drink at least. The hard frown and lines press again as Will attempts to understand, wholly looking unconvinced. He growls, tensing his hands, clearly suspicious of Nikk's underlying motives that in reality do not exist. But Nikk never makes a move, not even so much as a twitch. Long moments past as Will waits, a big part of him cursing that it is all some fucked up trick. Nothing. The drink sounds more and more tempting by the second, though Will repeatedly squashes the thought despite the fact that his head is starting to throb two beats fast than his heart. Now even more wary of this slight clash of culture Will growls, jerking his chin towards the door.

"You fuckin' go first." It is lucky for Nikk to have caught him on such a bad day, a bad day where he'd had his ass kicked enough to put him in a foul mood that didn't necessarily press for fighting.

[Nikkolas Blagetovich]

"You fuckin' go first."

This is almost what Nikk was suspecting from Will, he was very suspicious of Nikk. Nikk wouldn't do anything to set off this ticking time bomb, at least not yet. He would comply completely with Will and his demands, though this was very out of his nature. Just something about Will captivated Nikk's mind. Maybe it was how hard Will looked, or perhaps it was just his attitude. Nikk thought for a moment, doesn't he know if I wanted trick him it wouldn't be with words, but with the mind? This didn't make sense to Nikk, but American's were a breed of their own.

Nikk began to walk towards the door as Will had asked. He stopped at the door and looked back at Will as if he was going to say something to him, but he turned his head and just kept walking in. He took a seat at the bar, and waited for Will to join him. He clicked his fingers softly, looking at the bar tender, getting ready to take his feeble mind over again for their drinks. "Bar tender, bring the bottle of vodka over here along with two cups." He would see if the boy could handle some good old Russian Water.

The bar tender listened like the little mind slave he was and brought over the vodka and the cups. He set them in front of Nikk and walked away to sevice another customer. Nikk took the bottle of vodka and poured a generous amount into his glass. He then set the vodka next to him along with the glass; Nikk was sure that Will would want to pour his own and check everything out first. Nikk turned around to see if Will was following,

[Jolt]

Will feels a growl waiting low in his throat, a predatory air whirling about him like the tight confines of a noose, but aware to the point where he knows he can escape. He waits until Nikk is well ahead of him inside, and Will glares sharply, untrusting, but knowing better--at least at the current moment--to let this pass so he won't get his ass kicked. Before he goes in, Will shifts his gaze warily, his eyes hardening to the sharp, dark blue of a sky at midnight. And then he finally follows in, his shoulders hunched, but his back straight, a stance of subtle defiance and defeat.

Any eyes that meet his are rewarded with a cold, brooding stare as he stalks across the bar, jerking a barstool from underneath the granite countertop and sidling up on the top, his face clearly enough to warn anyone who makes a crack about his height will get a crack in the face with no hesitation.

Avoiding Nikk's eyes, Will sizes up the bottle of vodka, his eyes at first darting to the bottom of the bottle and then flicking to the mount of the glass container. He attempts to make sense of the label in his head, but it frustrates him that he can't read it, though even if it was in English it would take him a few moments to get across the label. He touches his hand to the bottle, and threads of pale, almost nonexistant electricity creep across the surface like a spiderweb, constricting the bottle and fading with a 'zpt' noise.

Then he pours himself a shot and downs it without even the bat of an eyelash.

[Nikkolas Blagetovich]

Before Will even entered the bar, Nikk was enjoying the wonders of his vodka. The sterile, burning taste as it quickly ran down your throat, and the potent fragrance was just what Nikk needed. Some would call him an alcoholic, and others a real Russian; he didn't care either way what he was, he just knew he liked his vodka.

Nikk didn't want to look back to see if Will was coming because he didn't want to make him even more distrustful then he already was, so he just read the minds of those around him to know when Will came in. Right about when Will reached mid-distance to Nikk, he was starting on his second glass.

He could feel how tense Will was; he was ready to go at any moment. Will took a seat next to him, not making any eye contact or any sort of greeting, which Nikk kind of expected from him. Even though he didn't know Will yet, the first impression he got from him seemed to be following pretty accurately.

He turned his head slightly, looking at Will as he examined the bottle of vodka. He didn't look happy, but he didn't exactly look like that type. He quickly poured himself a glass, and shot it. "Oh, so you're a shooter. This vill be fun." Nikk wasn't going to lecture him on vodka consumption, he would just let it take it's course. "Quite a punch you have."he said lightly as rubbed his jaw slowly. He poured another glass, and shot it.

[Jolt]

Oh, so you're a shooter. This vill be fun. Will pays little regard to Nikk's tone, or the fact that this is straight-up vodka he's chugging. Quite a punch you have. He roves his hard gaze over his opponent's jaw, unable to see the damage he's done at the moment, though there is a distant ache in his knuckles from hitting him the Russian so hard. Not that he'd let Nikk know that he can feel fuckin' anything. Hell no.

Will takes another shot, unflinching.

His vision jerks a little, and the alcohol burns his throat, a paranormal need for the acid going down and not brimming the back of his throat. Will doesn't trust this guy by any means, not even when it means a drink. (He'd be damned if he's gonna let this guy pick up the tab on his part.) Fuck him.

"You're not paying for me," he suddenly growls, a direct command that appears as though it shouldn't be disobeyed. It's out of nowhere, clinging to his rough accent like a blanket, a mere gutteral mumble more than a statement, but it holds its own weight enough.

[Nikkolas Blagetovich]

"You're not paying for me,"

Just when you think this guy is calming down a little, he bursts out with even more then before. He didn't know if it was safe for him to tell Will out loud that no one but the bar would be paying for this tab. Mutants weren't accepted in many parts of the world, and this bar was probably one of them. He knew the dangers of telling Will this telepathically, so he was going to attempt to tell him in a discrete manner.

He moved his head near the bar, slightly toward Will. "Um, no one vill be paying for dhis if you know vhat I mean. Dhe bar vill pick up tab, I have dhis under control, drink vhat you'd like." Moved back up to normal, squinting a little at the vodka bottle. It was nearing the bottom of the bottle, which was never good. He shook the bottle, watching the remains swish across the bottom. "Dhis is empty. Vhat do you vant next? Rum perhaps?"

Nikk didn't usually stray away from the vodka when he was alone, but he had a guest and it was rude not to give them a say in what they wanted to drink. Not everyone could handle vodka like he could. "You from around here?"

[Jolt]

Um, no one vill be paying for dhis if you know vhat I mean. Dhe bar vill pick up tab, I have dhis under control, drink vhat you'd like. Will growls, narrowing his eyes, seeming to be in a rough moment of disbelief. The boy is wild, insane if that is a better word, but he's known the jist of poverty, and he'd be damned--though he seems to be enough--if there would be anyone else paying for his drinks. He sets his jaw and grinds his teeth. "Fuck you. I'm fuckin' paying for my own goddamned drinks." And now it's a threat.

He sits back and folds his arms across his chest, glowering beneath his heavy brow. Dhis is empty. Vhat do you vant next? Rum perhaps? "I don't give a fuck." It crosses Will's mind, ever-so faintly, that he could just leave, but Will isn't about to be run off from his drinking spot by some random guy that messed with his head, especially not after fuckin' flame boy almost kicked his--You from around here?

A grunt at first is Nikk's only response. "Born here." Will mutters, his tendancy to mumble never leaving him. Though Nikk's lucky to get even this at all.

[Nikkolas Blagetovich]

"Fuck you. I'm fuckin' paying for my own goddamned drinks."

Nikk frowned, Will snapped at him. Nikk didn't know the intent of Will's 'snapping', but Nikk liked it. He had such a personality, a back bone, not many Americans that he'd met had it. Will was straight up a bad ass, and Nikk didn't really know what to think of it, except he knew he liked it. There was probably so much underneath the hard surface of this kid that would just blow Nikk away. Nikk knew how hard it was to not have a family, he knew what poverty was like. Nikk developed Rasputin to coup with it all, and to survive. "Vell suit yourself." There was no talking him out of it. Nikk wouldn't pay regardless, he'd keep using his power.

"I don't give a fuck."

Nikk grinned, he would see what his tolerance was, he'd push it to the edge. "Ok, I'll order bottle of special vodka, very tasty." He used his usual mind trick on the bar tender, and within a few moments a beautiful, expensive, bottle of vodka sat before them. Nikk was starting to get a little buzzed, rosey in the cheeks. That wouldn't stop him though, he rubbed his hands together and poured himself a glass, setting the half-full bottle in front of Will. "Cheers as you Americans say, no?" He laughed crazily and shot his whole glass. He was taken back by this large dose of Russian water, it was good shit.

"Born here."

Nikk nodded, "Really, very interesting. You are very lucky to be birthed here." The alcohol was beginning to cloud his word choice. "I vas born in Russia." Not that he thought Will cared or anything, just to make conversation. He got a little closer to Will, "So vhat exactly is your power?"

[Jolt]

Ok, I'll order bottle of special vodka, very tasty. Will's expression does not change, apparently unfaltered at the idea of being promised a drink that had a divine taste. He only wants something hard--damn the taste.

He watches silently as color filters into Nikk's face, a sign enough that he is going over his own limit as it is. Cheers as you Americans say, no? Will picks up the corner of his mouth in a sneer as Nikk laughs loudly, and he snatches a glass from on top of the table and tips the bottle over to pour the alcohol into his glass, pouring himself a very generous amount. Will is getting irritated by the foreigner's antics, and a good drink would at least numb his senses to that.

Really, very interesting. You are very lucky to be birthed here. The redhead is draining his glass by now, only pausing when it burns down his throat and blurrs the corners of his vision. I vas born in Russia. Will says nothing and takes another swig of his drink, the pale of his face giving way to a flush of pink. So vhat exactly is your power? He splutters on the vodka still brimming his throat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and refocusing his gaze. Above his head, the lights give a feeble flicker in response to his momentary lapse of almost choking. "What?" he growls, tightening his facial muscles and drawing his body back, becoming defensive.

There's no use denying anything, as Nikk knows that Will is more than just meets the eye. No amount of explanation would do justice as an excuse for electricity sparking at his fingertips, but even so, Will mentally fights to find one.

[Nikkolas Blagetovich]

Will just seemed to sneer and scowl at whatever Nikk said or asked him. He really wasn't a friendly person drinker, Nikk was on the other hand. Nikk just kept envisioning Will's fist clocking him in his jaw again, and he just mentally cringed. Back to the whole not-friendly thing. Vodka was the only way that Nikk knew to buy his way to the hearts of other drinkers.

"What?"

Ut-oh! was all Nikk could say/think. He may have just exposed them to the rest of the homo-sapiens in the bar. Nikk knew the pain that humans could bring in large numbers, and it just wasn't worth it talking about their powers out loud. Though Nikk wasn't totally sure what Will was 'whating'. Either he caught Nikk's very stupid mistake mentioning their mutations out loud, or he still hadn't caught on that Nikk was a telepath and much, much more.

Nikk looked around the bar, relieved that no one had paid any attention to them. He noticed the lights flicker when Will got a little upset. "Vhat do you mean, vhat?" he was whispering. "Your power is light flickering?" he said jokingly, full knowing that Will wouldn't be pleased. "How do you think ve get free vodka? I am telepath, and sometimes it doesn't turn off. I have bad control over it. I'm sorry if you're upset. But vhat is power if you don't mind telling?" He looked around once again, no one was paying attention. "Ve could take this out of here vith vodka if you'd like."

[Jolt]

Vhat do you mean, vhat? .... Your power is light flickering? Will clenches his fingers, infuriated by the undermining, and the fact that this guy doesn't know anything. Jesus. How do you think ve get free vodka? I am telepath, and sometimes it doesn't turn off. I have bad control over it. I'm sorry if you're upset. But vhat is power if you don't mind telling? Warning bells go off in Will's head at the reintroduction at the idea of Nikk being a telepath, and telepaths really, really, really scare the shit out of him. Not that he'd ever admit it even on his death bed.. but the very idea of someone fucking around with his head gave him the shakes.

Ve could take this out of here with vodka if you'd like? Now digging furiously for the few crumpled bills in his pocket--the few he'd managed to find at home--Will throws them on the counter, growling,"Fuck you!" under his breath and glaring hotly at Nikk. This is something he's getting way too deep into, and the very last thing he needs is to be thrown back into jail again, worse.. re-administered the Cure. It didn't work, hell no, but once was bad enough.

He finally stands and shoves his chair back so abruptly that the table rattles. Again, the lights flicker, a flicker that deepens to a dim before returning to full strength. Without so much as another glance to Nikk, Will turns to stalk off towards the door, having had more of his share than bullshit and random situations for the day.