Marvel, Rebirth:

IC:

"They most certainly are. Priority number one is survival of the people I protect. Number two is my own survival. Third is access to supplies." The Ultimate casually counted them off on her fingers while eating her sundae. "Fourth is access to shelter, and anything underneath fifth depends on the situation. My food and desserts are a desire, not a priority."

"I've lived on far less and been perfectly fine."

IC:

"This is probably the best I've ever seen you." Dallas scooped a large wad of chocolate syrup and brownie off the rim of his glass bowl and mulled it over thoughtfully. He licked a slight dab of ice cream off his lip before adding, "But whatever you say."

-Tyler

IC:

"This is likely the healthiest I have been in recent years, but that doesn't have much bearing on what my priorities are."

IC:

"If you get yourself killed, I'm coming after you. Nobody stands me up."

-Tyler
 

IC:

"How would I be standing you up?"

IC:

"Because lately, I've started to accept that in twenty years I'm going to be alive and miserable about it. I plan on having someone to blame."

-Tyler

IC:

"Good. I'll bear that in mind."

IC:

"Will ya?"

-Tyler

IC:

"Yes. Yes I will."

IC:

"Attagirl."

-Tyler

IC:

"It isn't as though it's a big concern." The ex-Weapon ate from her sundae almost casually, staring off into space just over Dallas' shoulder. "I have one of the highest survival rates out of all of us. I don't fight all that often anymore. And even if something did happen to me, you lot don't need all that much protecting anymore."

IC:

"Eat your sundae and stop rationalizing your own death."

-Tyler

IC:

"I rationalize everything." Rebekah took a large bite, then carefully gathered the remainder of her sundae with a spoon, leaving not one drop of melted ice cream to go to waste. "This is hardly new behavior."

IC:

"Well, this one's off limits, alright? There's no Dallas without Rebekah. Hasn't been for years. So keep the heroic sacrifice on the downlow." Dallas, suddenly surly, finished up his ice cream in a similar manner and brought both dishes to the sink to be rinsed out.

-Tyler

IC:

"..."

"I'm sorry."

IC:

...

...

Dallas sighed and cursed again under his breath, looking up to the cabinet where he normally stored medicine. His right hand, holding a sponge tightly, was rinsing brownie out of the bowls.

"I've just...we're not going home, Bek. We've lost home, and we've lost so much more, and if anything happened to you...I wouldn't make it on my own. I wouldn't have made it in a dozen places without you. If I lose that...I'm nothing. I have nothing left to keep me confident. That scares me."

-Tyler

IC:

"..."
 

The dark-haired Ultimate was quiet for a long moment, tapping her fingers on the table idly. Habit more than conscious thought. "... I can't say I have ever heard you express a lack of confidence. Or fear."

IC:

"I'm still human, ain't I?"

-Tyler

IC:

"Not that you normally admit it."

IC:

"How am I supposed to say it, Bek? 'Sorry everyone, there's a few days of the year where I'm just too wiped out to be a hypersexual , and my team of psychotic dimension travelers isn't even that psychotic?' Yeah. I'm human. No. I don't like admitting it. But I can to you." Dallas dropped the dishes in the sink with a clatter and stalked back over to the counter.

"Truth is, whenever I start to feel like that, you're a big part of what keeps me from falling apart. And that feeling you give me is...its worth the extra supermarket trips."

-Tyler

IC:

"I guarantee you that by every meaningful metric, a significant percentage of us are psychotic." The comment sounded almost humorous, but as she watched Dallas move back to the counter, Rebekah's expression didn't provide any indicators of the same. She was quiet for a few moments, as if studying him, before she patted her lap. "Come here, please."

IC:

Dallas, never reverent towards a thing in his life, gauged his best friend for a second before placing a hand on the edge of the counter and vaulting over it nimbly. Slowly, he lowered himself into the spot on her lap that she'd set aside for him.

"Here."

-Tyler

IC:

"You need to relax." Two arms wrapped around his torso loosely, then promptly tightened to keep Dallas close and in place. Rebekah's chin slotted into place between his shoulder and neck, followed by a long breath. Then an equally long exhalation. Rather than the table, her fingers now briefly tapped against his ribs. Then grew still before her grip tightened. "Given that our little social circle is primarily composed of psychopaths or , it is entirely understandable that you might not want to admit things to them. But you need to at least admit them to yourself, so you can deal with them."

"And if it helps, technically you aren't human. Technically we're all a subspecies of humanity."

IC:

"I could copy paste that entire argument right back towards you. Especially since I wouldn't have to change any names or pronouns. But," Dallas sighed, turning his head as lightly as he could to avoid displacing Rebekah's position, "it would probably murder the moment."

Another sigh, before the chronokinetic tilted his head down to give the dark-haired woman a slightly shorter kiss than the one in the parking lot.

"Thank you, Bek."

-Tyler

IC:

"You're welcome. Enjoy the brief span of attentive human behavior. It won't last."

IC:

"After all we've been through together. After all I put up with. It took two beers to cash in all my years of goodwill for a hug."

-Tyler

IC:

"I have never claimed to be the source of an equivalent exchange, or sensible or consistent in my actions." The ex-Weapon stated simply, grip tightening once more before loosening again. "Any belief in such things is an error on your part."

IC:

"Why do I keep you again?"

-Tyler

IC:

"It's the most reliable way to keep yourself alive."

IC:

"You make me sound pretty selfish. And give my sense of self-preservation a lotta credit."

-Tyler

IC:

"Valid point. Your self preservation instinct is not nearly that strong."

IC:

"Maybe I just like you."

-Tyler

IC:

"You've said as much before."

IC:

"You know what I mean. Like, like."

-Tyler

IC:

"Doubtful."

IC:

"What if it wasn't? Doubtful?"

-Tyler

IC:

"... I do not think I understand the question."

IC:

"...Not much of a question. It's not that doubtful anymore. Six months ago, even, might've been doubtful. But I'd have to be the crappiest empath on Earth if I doubted myself at this point. I've grown...a pretty big thing for you, Bekah. It's not exactly convenient, either, you vent dwelling, food mooching little mole. But it's there."

-Tyler

IC: C-C-C-COMBO BREAKER!

I fidgeted in my seat.

OOC: Skipping to the Hellfire Ball.

IC:

Sierra itched all over. Her mother had insisted on covering 'those horrible red marks' with rather large amounts of makeup, and it was, needless to say, making them feel even worse. As if her thoughts were being read, she felt a sharp poking sensation in the back of her head. "I know, don't touch anything" she muttered. Her own hair (dyed its original dishwater blonde), eyes (brown contacts, which again, was her natural color), and skin were off-limits. All of it. "Why would she insist on covering everything with that uncomfortable stuff? Why would anyone be seeing..." She blushed. "Ew. Dad's here and everything." As she shook her head, trying to remove the mental picture she was accidentally painting, her attention was once again brought to the mask she'd been sent. Seeing as how it was strangely...appropriate, she figured whoever was throwing this ball must have some sort of interest in the invitees.

"But what kind?" she wondered, staring thoughtfully at the beautiful woman in green who seemed to be overseeing the whole affair.