High Court: Backyard
November 3rd
1:00 pm

Frankie let out a brief shiver as he flipped his steak. Despite the fact the Winter was on its way for New Jersey, Frankie refused to cook inside. There was something about grilling in the open air that set Frankie at ease. Ever since his run in with the Puglisi's Frankie had been a bit off. He was unsure of himself, his identity for the first time since becoming a mutant, although he sure as hell wouldn't let anyone know. He hadn't even told anyone about losing his powers, and he wasn't sure if he would. In the back of his mind he could see the Brotherhood kicking him out, no longer being a true mutant.

"Fuck..." Frankie winced as he reached for a cigarette, forgetting that he had probably had his arm broken by the Puglisi's. If he react to it, the cat would be out of the bag.

If he still had his powers his arm would have been healed by the end of the day. Frankie heard the door slam. He turned around to spot Skids stomping his way. Fuck, he really did miss having the ability to smell who was coming, let alone hear them. He went back to his grilling meat. He figured Sally was pissed off about him stealing her cigarettes, or some other stupid, trivial matter. He focused on his steak, hoping Sally would just go away.

The plan was to spend the day smoking and getting high, but when Sally had started the search for the box of her favorite cigarettes she hadn't been able to find them. Boomer didn't have them either, which in Sallys head, left only one logical explanation. The door slammed heavily behind her, s haking its frame, as heeled feet stomped across the pavement and weeded backyard.

By this time Frankie should have learned that Sally wasn't going to leave that easily. When Skids was pissed, she was pissed, and she didn't forgive easily. Even if it was over such a trivial manner of cigarettes.

Rather than demand them back she went on to stop around him and grab the box, as well as the already lighted cigarette from him. "Fuck!" She said taking a pull from the lighted one then stomping it beneath her foot. "You do that again, I'll fuckin kill you."

Frankie didn't even look at Skids as she swiped the lit cigarette from his mouth. It was the expected reaction, if not a little less tame than what Frankie had expected. Inside he was grinning, but his face wore an ugly scowl.

"You'll kill me?" Frankie barked, "Ha. Bitch, I'd like to see you try."

Frankie didn't even look up from his grill. There were some battles he just didn't feel like fighting today, but we was pretty sure, this one was inevitable. Sure he had stolen her cigarettes, but thats the way things where in the Brotherhood house. It was communal, whether you liked it or not. You didn't want someone to steal your shit? You lock it up... and maybe that would deter any thieves. Usually it didn't.

"Oh I'll fucking kill you alright," Sally growled as she took a long drag from her cigarette. She continued to stand there, glaring at the hunched Frankie with one hand on her hip. Maybe this was the way the Brotherhood did things, didn't mean she couldn't get pissed at him. Like she always did.

"That for me?" She inquired next, tone of voice pointing out that if it wasn't he was going to be hurt, pointing to the steak.

Frankie snorted at Skids comment about killing him. Typical Sisterhood comment, he figured. If he had a dime for every time one of the chicks in the house threatened to kill him, he'd have enough cash to pay for a body double for them to beat up on. He pulled a loose cigarette from his pocket, a rare treasure.

"Oh this isn't for you sweetheart," Frankie said, lighting the cig, "But I do have something for you."

As he flipped the steak one last time, he flipped Skids the bird. Maybe she'd get the hint.