#empathphoniex

folding his hands onto the top, he glanced around the place and noticed that aside from a few regulars, it was pretty quiet. but that’s mid-day drinking for you. “how’ya doing? personally - not professionally, your saloon is gonna outlast us all. but did you go to the doomsday celebration? or whatever the hell it’s been called?“ frank was fairly terrible at small talk - it wasn’t his best virtue - but for people he liked being around? yeah, he was pretty much willing to try.

🧬 — Ben came in through a hatch in the roof, lowered himself from the ceiling, and snagged the bottle from the bar with a quick thwip of his web shooter. Helping himself to some of the saloon’s finer whiskey.. a little for him, and a little for his injuries. He steadied himself and sat atop the counter, peeling his suit down to expose a puncture wound — a piece of the object still lodged in his arm. He’d lost track when it got there, but the projectile resembled rebar. The rest of it just, didn’t want to come out. His spider-sense goes off.. and he relaxed. Knowing the what, or who, instantly. He freed his hand, placing the bottle down, to slip his mask off and search the darkness for their face. “Howdy.” 

he  peers  out  of  the  room,  mostly  expecting  to  see  an  empty  hallway  and  proof  of  his  own  longing.  instead,  it’s  exactly  what  he  thought  he’d  seen  passing  by.  exactly  who,  more  like,  may  very  well  be  the  person  he’d  most  recognize  on  any  planet.he  calls  out,  curious,  phrased  like  a  question  though  he’s  never  been  more  sure  he’s  right.  it’s  saying  something,  for  a  man  that’s  most  always  rooted  in  his  own  correct  opinions.  ❛   ——   jean ?   ❜

😈 — Time was of the essence. If Madelyne had sensed the Phoenix, than surely the Phoenix had sensed her. There would be no upper hand here.. but she could get the first psionic punch in. Which was, comparably, the size of a sedan barreling through the saloon.