Still Mortal - Gotham

[Nosuchthing]

She'd wanted to run, to get out of there, but she'd done this now, she needed the money and she wasn't going to back out of the payment having done the work. It was awkward waiting in the VIP area, she wasn't 21 so she couldn't drink yet and the customers kept giving her funny looks, wondering why a young girl was hanging around alone in the VIP area. Alex seemed to take forever, and when he finally returned she was relieved to see him, strange though that seemed considering the circumstances. He tossed her a roll of notes, tightly wound together and she couldn't help gasping when she saw that he'd added to what he'd originally offered, five hundred bucks, for just a few minutes, and it had hardly been work.

She thrust her hands into her pocket, protectively clutching the five hundred dollars. It was nice to have the money, but she hadn't liked having to hurt people for it, and she wouldn't be going back to ask for more 'work' anytime soon. She smiled nervously, then left in a hurry, hardly able to stop herself running from the establishment. She took a look around, making sure she wasn't being followed, then headed off down the sidewalk, her hands still thrust into her pockets, clutching the warm roll of notes with a hungry desperation. She didn't look back, and she didn't notice the half shadow that detached itself from the clubs and followed her down the sidewalk.

After a small detour she arrived home, with slightly less money, but a small packet of heroin in her pocket. She would have given the money to her dad, but couldn't think how she would explain how she'd come into it, she stashed it away in a box. Then she took the draw out of the bedside cabinet and put the small wooden box in there, putting the draw back in on top of it. Then she sat back, felt the sharp prick of the needle and let herself float away from the pain.

[MelonHead]

Now that business was sorted, there were a few more things Alex had to do before he could set off and meet with his associate John. First, he had to grab a couple of expendable Hench men, the sort he hired simply because they wouldn’t be missed and weren’t too bad with a gun. Luckily they were mostly idiots; the sort who put everything they had into sport at school like that was somehow a realistic option. Considering his own time in school, Alex amused himself by bossing them around.

“Fucktard 1 and 2, get over here.” He grinned viciously at the two armed goons who always stood guard over his office, not that he was stupid enough to leave anything sensitive in there.

“Yes boss.” They toned obediently, almost running over to his position at the end of the corridor. The top of his club was all like that, an office building except for the VIP area, the lower floor was where the action was at.

“Alright, I need you two to come with me on a job, we’re going to hurt some people, probably kill some people, get my shit back and take over this city.” He said it without a trace of false modesty, as if his plan really was as simple as that.

“Now someone get me a fucking gun, and bring your own, meet me at the parking garage across the street.” He walked downstairs and ignored the two, leaving them to work things out for themselves.

A few minutes later, he was driving an unobtrusive four seated town car down the roads and into industrial, heading towards the news agents he had marked on the map. He arrived a half hour after John, who he knew had reached the destination first by the relatively visible bike outside. It was still dark, but from across the road and under an old bridge the light from a decrepit factory shone. Alex knew King would be there waiting for him, he just hoped he didn’t expect Alex to arrive so soon.

“Damnit, I should have brought more meat.” He shook his head at the two stupid goons behind him and got out of the car, walking over to talk to John. (Assuming he was waiting outside, he had probably gone in the shop or something during the half an hour period.)

“John, alright getting here I see.” He looked up and pointed towards the factory. “As you can see, that’s a big damn place we’ve got to raid there, and we need ourselves some demolitions.” He looked pointedly at the kineticicist. “I’m assuming you’ll be fine with that?”

[Nytefall]

When Alex arrived he would find him eating a chocolate bar he had purchased in the store close the the factory, Finishing the bar he tossed the wrapper away before approaching Alex. “John, alright getting here I see.”

"Fairly easy, but a boring wait."

Alex looked up and pointed towards the factory. “As you can see, that’s a big damn place we’ve got to raid there, and we need ourselves some demolitions.” He looked pointedly at the kineticicist. “I’m assuming you’ll be fine with that?”

John surveyed the building judging it silently. "Got to be steel walls in that thing. What exactly do you want me to do? Knock it down?"

[Firebreather]

Xander looks at the male with his eyebrow raised "You sure you are ok? you seem sick or something." He offered his hand and says "Is something bad happening or do you love to sit against your car at night?" he smiles and says "why dont we go talk about it over a beer or two. Do you drink?" he awaits for the male to answer as he looks around to see if that figure in the dark he seen earler is still around. Once he is done looking he says "Oh by the way my name is xander, what is yours may i ask" Right then xander's father said in his head to him *idiot why are you being nice to people. being nice will be your downfall, pity you are not smart enough to see that." Xander smacks his head and says in his head "Shut up dad you dont know nothing because you are dead" Fox smiled awkwardly at him and backed away "Uhm..." He got a hold on himself and backed away from the door "Look, I would love to stay and chat but.... I have to uhm...." He brushed his fair from his face "Get back to work.." Fox reaches back for the doorknob and the door is locked "I.. Uhm.... Fine..." Fox sighed "I guess Ill go with you.." He walked down from the stoop and thought "Why are you going with this man... I have a bad feeling about this.."

Xander smiles "i am not going to hurt you if thats what you are thinking, i am just curious as to whats wrong." he thinks to himself "I guess its going to be awhile untill people trust me." Xander sighed "if i am bothering you i can go. Just trying to be friendly and make some friends for once in my life. I have always just thought for myself and didnt care what it did to others, but here recently i got a taste of what it feels like to help others. Even though it ended with me passing out because of the person i was trying to save." He looks down "I realize now that my mother would be ashamed of what i was. So now i am trying to do right in her eyes, may god rest her soul." He pulls out his cigs and lights one up and then offers one to the male. "What are you implying? 'What you are'?" Taking a cigarette from his hand walking, Fox began walking casually over to the bar "-And no, Your not bugging me I am just... I dont know.." They enter the front door to Fox's work. Xander smiles and says "i am a mutant. it's just that my powers dont show on my skin." he opens his palm and makes a softball sized rock generate in his hand and lets it float in mid air. Fox looked at him with a neutral face "Cool magic trick I must admit," Fox stepped back from the door "but I really got to go... I have uhm.. A cat I have to feed?... So uhm, bye now" He began to turn around and mumbled "There are some weird ass people out here, mutants aren't real." Upon hearing this Xander turns and says "What can you do Mister. Mutants are real and the way you are denying it i would bet you can do something too." he crosses his arms and taps his foot waiting for the male to answer him.

"Look dude you need some serious help.. People like you who think they have 'super powers' deserve to be locked up in mental hospitals..." Fox's eyes began to turn gold and he begins to walk away, Xander jumps and says "Dude your eyes just changed colors , what are you trying to hide or possibily deny? Being mutant is not the end of the world." he Jogs to keep up with Fox. "Get away freak! You need some mental help!" Fox Jogged to his car and tried to unlock his car door "Ugh!" His eyes faded to orange as he kept trying to unlock his door "I am the freak? tell me why is your eyes changing colors then Hmm?" he crosses his arms ready for anything. "There not changing colors! Freak! Just get away!" His eyes turned blood red as he rips the handle off of his car door and hops in."Oh really they are not? look in the mirror. They are red and you had just ripped the handle off your car door" Xander said growling at Fox "You know you need help..."Fox Replied with a rude tone. Fox started up his car and drove away as his eyes turned back to normal.

[I Am]

In one of the numerous cookie cutter-esque apartments in downtown Gotham, an elderly couple sit round the living room. The walls are lined with cat-themed clocks and 'arts' as well as its fair share of cobwebs, the smell of strong peppermint tea and Vic's vapor rub fill the air. A small television is playing a re-run of some old Spaghetti Western movie from the 70's, the old man's favorite genre, he himself being sat in a recliner arguably as old as he was. His better half, an elderly, pale lady with deep wrinkles and squinty eyes is shuffling about with a teacup in hand, sipping from it occasionally.

"Did you hear, George?" The old lady asks in a voice that told tales of someone who might have been meant to be living over the river and through the woods, baking cookies for small kids and woodland creatures. A certain warmth and mischievousness in her words, "That boy next door has company!"

Deep frown lips, sunk in from a lack of teeth, on the old man, one he'd had since maybe a decade ago, part as he speaks. Maybe he was a war vet, one of those who cries when he thinks about 'kids these days' or how the government was getting too corrupt. Back in the day, maybe he liked to go fishing and woo girls, his only regret in life that he made room in his heart for the latter instead of devoting himself to the former, "Eh? That weirdo Ryan kid?"

"Brian, George, his name is Brian and he is not weird. He is perfectly lovely and need I remind you, was the one that helped you up after you took a tumble down the steps," Shuffling over to the paperthin walls and pressing an ear on it, she continued to speak, "I'm happy for him, you know? He deserves someone,"

"Bah! You'll never let that go, Beth. I told you, some bastard-"

"George!" Beth snapped at the swear.

"Sorry... Some dummy left crap in the floor outside the door. Anyway, yeah, at least he's quiet unlike the rest of them heathens with their 'music'," George turned down the television and listened in, "That boy... Is he... You know?" He gave a little whistle and tilted his hand back a forth, "He a fruitcake?"

Beth gasped and frowned at her husband, shaking a finger, "You always have to judge don't you? Just be glad he has someone to talk to, no one should be alone,"

"And he never was good with the ladies," The old man chuckled, "Bah! The world is going to pot anyway, let'm do what he wants," He waved a hand and went back to watching the movie, "Where's my supper anyway?" The movie goes out and a news anchor replaces cowboys and natives shooting at each other.

"We interrupt this broadcast to bring you a breaking news report. Moments ago, there was a reported attack on Gotham's very own police force. Though reports are still unconfirmed, it seems as if, after a small explosion, occupants within the building began to suffer from strange hallucinations. Specialists have been deployed to keep the situation under control as shots have been fired from within the building. We will bring you more as updates come in,"
_

A few minutes ago in the room next door, the lights were all off save a small lamp over an elongated desk. Brian was pulled up to it, seated on a stool over what looked like a chemistry set. Beakers bubbled, Bunsen burners flickered, and a wicked rainbow of colorful fluids moved about. Several viles of especially wicked looking chemicals sat away from the others, sat carefully in a thick plexiglass container with several warning labels on it. Brian, with safety goggles, mask, and gloves on, worked methodically. A drop of bright blue into a dark red, the combination causing a venomous sizzling and hissing, sending the combination up through a tube and into an empty beaker labeled "Fearmonger". Thick dark green fluids drip from the tube into the beaker and one watching might get the sense that this was either a meth lab or a kid's chemistry set gone horribly awry. In truth, it was a little of both.

"I know," Brian said, seemingly in a losing debate. He glanced over his shoulder.

"Don't look at me! Not now, you've gone and pissed me off you little shit," The voice caused Brian to look back around, "Sorry, but you can't just 'know' and not act. They're out there right now, mocking you, making fun of the way you stutter and shake during your presentations. Speak up, we can't here you! Stand up straight! You can hear them, can't you?" The figure behind Brian sits just outside the light cast by the small lamp over the table, the man's head down towards the floor and the hood from his jumper pulled over his head.

The young Brian sighs and nods, "They're my co-workers. They're just teasing you know. They like me, I know it..."

"Do they now? That's news to me. Look, you're not naive, that's one thing you're not. A pathetic worm and a scared bitch, sure, but not naive," A certain smirk in the figure's voice now, "Those worthless insects get exactly what they deserve. Look how you're trembling! Don't drop anything, Brian, you know what happens if you drop that," There is a little chuckle from the figure, his bright smile is visible even in the darkness. It's a pretty smile in its own right... But wicked, "We follow through with the plan,"

Sweat drips off the unusually pale forehead of the chemist boy, his shaking hands start for the beaker, now filled with the dark green sludge, "Of course... Plan... Just as we-I mean you... Just like you said we would," The shaking grows as his hand touches the cold glass, pupils dilate behind the goggles, his heart rate takes a spike upward, "Just like you planned. Just like you planned," He repeats time and again as a knot builds in his stomach and nerves begin to tighten. The room seems to change in an unfortunate way. The walls start to go limp, melting almost like chocolate in the summer. Gray carpet becomes dead grass as insects scurry about his ankles. A scream is building in his lungs, but the air is too thin... Why is the air so thin? Mouth is dry, so very very dry. Bile builds in the back of his throat. I need water... Water, please! I'm thirsting to death! Brian's hand slips away from the beaker as he slides to the dead grass among the roaches, his breathing in a short, gasping manner. Finally, it all comes up in one heave as Brian vomits into a nearby trashcan. Hacking and coughing for a few moments, he looked around at the room.

Entirely alone in the room, the young Brian gives a slight smile before going back to the table and retrieving a pen and a well-used notepad. Jotting down something, he looks back over his shoulder one last time... No one. Looking back to the chemistry set, he puts down the notepad and retrieves the beaker of Fearmonger, pouring its contents into several test tubes. Afterwards, the beaker is set back and a nearby recorder and what looks like a trigger is picked up.

After mashing record, he speaks, "My theory was correct. The serum is several times more potent upon adding ingredient 34. Testing upon subject 1, myself, resulted in increased heart rate, nausea, vivid hallucinations, and eventual vomiting," Brian stands and walks to a mirror on the wall, looking into it a reflection of himself. A young man with stress lines, bright eyes dulled with fear and anger, and black paint smeared over half of his face, "On a side note, an old friend came round for a visit during my little experiment," He touches the black smear and smiles, but quickly corrects himself back to a somber look, "Testing on other subjects begins within the hour," Brian clicks the record button again and his arm goes limp beside him, "Man's strongest emotion... What is it? Some say love or hope, but those are the weak-minded, the insolent or naive," He runs his tongue over the back of his teeth and gives a gnashing of his fangs, "Fear," The hand with the trigger is lifted. A flick of the finger and, nearby at Gotham's police station, several explosions go off within the vents of the station, dark green gas flowing from them...

[Juggalonaut]

Xander looks around and says "well what shall i do now? I know i should go to a club or something lol the night is still young." He starts to walk to the club and once he gets there he pays off the bouncer and walks in to the noise. As soon as he gets in he goes to the bar looking around and notices a female who looks too young to be here run out of the club. He says "Damn she looks familiar. Wait i thought that was a dream but i guess it wasn't, so that means the man who splits in two might be here. I gotta be careful, he is a tricky one." He would go onto the dance floor and starts to dance with a random chick as he sees ppl going into a back room and thinks to himself "i am not going that way, the man might see me and i dont feel like fighting today" so once the song is over he goes to a booth and sits down while sipping on some whiskey.

[Firebreather]

A few minutes of rambling about Xander and two packs of cigarettes later Fox had reached his destination, his apartment. The familiar smell of pollution and meat from Mrs. Martina’s Butcher Shop filled the air, yet something was out of place. There were no parking spots left in his apartment complex, not even his own designated parking space was available. “H-Hmmph!” Fox stammered while slamming his hingeless car door, first a psycho trying to convince him of power's and now this? Marching up the flights of stairs, Fox’s eyes began to adjust to the midnight darkness after rubbing his eyes for a few minutes as he glimpsed at the doorway into his apartment, the doorknob was missing. “That’s peculiar…” Fox murmured under his breath, after a few tries and picks at the lock Fox walked in, unaware of the danger that he would face inside…

[Corporal Lance]

"I thought that we were meant be,
but instead all you did was lie to me.
Sweet nothin's as I held you in my aaaaaAAaaarmss!"

"I held you in my arms!"

"May-be I shoulda been attentive!
And may-be I shoulda payed attention!
And may-be you would'na done me haaaaa...aaaAAAARM!"

"I can't stand a thing you say, won't have it your way! Get up, get out, just quit!
I won't do it anymore, cuz you were just a whore! I'm so done with your shit!"

"You stabbed me in the back..."

"Stabbed me in the back!"

"And now I want you gone..."

"Said get the hell out!"

"You ripped me out of your heart, so get the hell off my lawn!"

And cue the pyrotechnics. A flash of fiery showers erupted from center stage, lighting up the darkened crowd and erupting cheers from anyone and everyone in Gotham Stadium. It was a packed house and everyone was clamoring to get up at the front. Because they knew exactly what was going to happen next...
Percy Williams, 24, lead guitarist of Throw Gold ripped into on of his famous solos. It had a fast, exciting tempo with some electronica mixed in for good measure. Of course, no synthesizers were involved in changing the tune of his guitar. Percy could do it himself. The riffs flowed over the large mass of people, inciting more cheers and creating an almost physical presence in and of itself. Percy twirled and kicked onstage, playing it up for the patrons who came to see his band. His shadows played off of the large pillars of flame, making himself look like some kind of music god as his magic fingers danced across the frets to produce a sound no one could call anything but fantastic. Obelisk-sized amps flanked the stage, enhancing the effect and creating deafening bliss whenever Percy struck a note. Taking his place, Percy ended his solo on a high note and stepped back from center stage to let Jason, their vocalist, take the lead once more for the lyrics of which the fans identified. The music played on and on and on, their concert going for a full 3 hours. They jammed to everything from their newest singles to the very best of their classics to some lesser known stuff to a cover or two and even a new song they've been working on. The crowd at it all up and still wanted encores, of which they obliged. It was getting fairly late, so eventually their producer decided to pack it in and they left on arguably their best song, "Race to Live". Their tour ended in Gotham, so why not?

The members of Throw Gold sat around on their "hang couch", the couch they simply brought to every venue themselves, trading laughs and having a few beers. They were joking around and discussing what new treat they'd give tomorrow for their 3-day stop, still clad in their stage clothes. They were all dressed up in the "new kind of grungy", wearing some ripped and faded jeans with nice collared shirts, sports coats, vests, and ties. Percy himself was clad in a nice pair of expensive faded blue jeans, with puffy Vans velcroed on his feet. He wore a mauve collared shirt with a dark blue, polyester vest covering it and an undone tie. A pair of round sunglasses sat on the top of his head, more of an accessory at night than anything else and a gold Rolex could be seen on his rest. As he was in the middle of a good chuckle from one of Toby the drummer's hilarious jokes, an unassuming Asian woman in a designer blouse with purposefully opened sleeves and skinny jeans approached him.
"Hey babe," he greeted her with a kiss as she replied with a simple but exuberant "Hey" and climbed across his lap, laying her arm around his shoulder as he did her. He gave her a beaming smile and they rubbed noses before their producer walked in, an older gentleman by the name of Rick with black kind of half-mullet, a standard suit and tie, and a twinkle in his eye that people came to know him by.
"Great show tonight, guys!" he congratulated, bringing forth a few wolf howls and the clinking of bottles. Percy raised his own in toast and took a swig.
"You guys really did a bang up job! The fans were going nuts!"
"We just give'em what they want, right?" Jason, their singer with the fiery spiked hair and goatee announced, getting a rise out of his bandmates. Jason was easily the pretty-boy of the group, but he wasn't a complete prick about it.
"Yeah ya do, heh heh!" Rick chuckled. "Alright, I got you guys all set up for the night. We got reserved rooms at the Count Marcielo uptown, one of the best bars in Gotham is 5 streets down. You guy's ready?"
"Ready Freddy! I wanna see what kinda women they got in the so called "Best Bar in Gotham"," Toby said with a mock suspicious look, stroking his beard light, black beard. Toby was the jokester and the party animal of the group, the kind of "bro's bro" that never left the frat. He was a little thicker than everyone else and a little shorter, and his raven black hair fell over his head like a mop.
"Just don't make us drag you back by the ears like we did last time," Percy joked.
"What fun would that be?" Mikey commented. He was their bassist, and a little out of place among the feel-good group. While everyone went out and had a good time, Mikey usually just hung around and brooded and he had a penchant for dark humor. He had shoulder length, sandy blond hair that L'Oreal would kill to get their hands on for a commercial. Last time Toby was allowed to go out and drink to his heart's content, he ended up sneaking on a farm somewhere in their Alabama tour and somehow ended up herding them through the streets of Montgomery while riding a Shetland pony at the front with a paintball gun wearing the Green Power Ranger's costume. It made headline of the local news, but thankfully he wasn't caught. Mostly in part from the paintball gun. Those things hurt when you get shot in the face with'em.
"Let's just go guys *yawn* I'm beat," piped up Sam, their keyboardist. He was the group oddball, but a much loved and respected member of the group. He and Jason wrote all the songs with some input from the others, but unlike pursing girls he preferred to pursue epic drops in World of Warcraft, which usually meant he was asleep most of the time during the day. When you did get him out to do stuff though, he was a right daredevil and hands down had the biggest guts of the group. He had medium length haircut of a mocha color and wore thin, silver frame glasses across his nose.

Security for the event left the backstage area approached and part the crowd carrying a shabby yellow couch over their shoulders, which prompted reactions from the fans wanting autographs at the back. It was the precursor to the exit of none other than Throw Gold, who beamed and walked tall as they made their way to the tour bus with their favorite couch. They began to get a rise out of everyone as they took a little bit to sign autographs and give out high fives. Percy hung near the back with his arm around Karyn's waist, chatting with the fans and trying to be a little more personal with them. His perfect smile could have almost replaced the pyrotechnics of the show, and he just oozed charisma as their crew team began to load up their gear on the bus.

[MelonHead]

Melon and Nytefall collab, the Heist.


Steel walls too big and strong for ya eh?” Alex gave him a slightly ironic smile. “You can manipulate kinetic energy right? Way I see it you should be able to run right up to that bitch from the back end and transfer your energy into it. Walls aren’t supposed to have that sort of energy, it’ll make a big enough hole for us to fit through.” He gestured at the henchmen behind him.

Split looked up with a wary glance at the flickering light from the top window, there was a clear way up to it from one side if you had the skills. The problem was the skills, the answer was Mr.White.

“Alright, if I’m not mistaken and I rarely am, there’s a lookout in that window up there. I don’t want us getting caught before we get close so I’m going to mosey on up there and deal with him. You’ll have to work with my somewhat aggressive friend Mr Black.”

With a strange blurring movement, Alex split into his two forms and stood watching John with curiosity.

“You know what we’re doing here right? You go with Mr Black and break a massive hole in the far side of the factory, Black will deal with the killing.” Mr White told him in his quick smooth tone, checking his pistols at each side before sprinting off into the dark with confident strides. Within a few moments the group would see him vaulting up the side of the wall like a particularly acrobatic monkey. Mr Black looked on with slight amusement as an armed form was suddenly pulled from his perch punched cleanly in the face by Mr White. The figure fell without a sound, scrunching on the stray grass growing sparsely around the factory.

“You ready to go?” Mr Black asked John.

John watched as Alex split into two separate people one black and one white with fitting names to match their colours. “Impressive, i’ve never seen someone who can do that before. You just get more dangerous now don’t you- Alex?” As the two men looked at the wall than at the window they told John the plan. Mr White than left them climbing up into a window and taking out a sentry that was there. Cracking his knuckles he looked Mr Black up and down.

“You know you seem worse than Al- Mr White, I’ve met some mean bastards but you. You creep me out at another level; from a professional point of view i mean no disrespect.”

John walked calmly towards the steel door, his body shimmering slightly as the kinetic energy built within him, putting his hand out he touched the surface of the wall. The sound of metal grinding against metal could be heard very softly as the wall slowly caved inwards from where Johns hand was, bringing his other hand to the wall the wall finally gave in with a crack the metal fractured inwards. John kept moving forwards. Once inside he turned around and looked at the hole he had made, about the size of a door frame he smiled.

“Now I tried to do that as quietly as possible, but I mainly only use it for brick walls. Anything else you need?”

“Nothing much, get out of the way.” Mr Black stormed forward and lifted his shotgun with one hand, the element of surprise lost just as soon as the wall split. Presumably John would duck in time for the massive blast to burst from the weapon and knock an approaching goon off his feet. The chaos ensued soon after that, they had broken into a small mess room with a massive glass window. Bullets streamed through the glass, fired from inside the main part of the factory where armed goons took cover behind a multitude of machinery. Alex’ own gunmen strode forward and bullets were shared on each side.

“Better earn your pay skinny.” Mr Black snarled, jumping clean through the window and landing amongst a group of men, bullets piercing his strange body as he wreaked havoc about himself. The men in the working area went down quickly, although both of the armed goons Alex brought with him were clipped in the fighting and one was bleeding badly, where-as John had his own fight presuming he chose to accept it. While the others were busy, two men armed with knives, burst into the mess hall and set upon him.

Ducking underneath the barrel of the gun he reached inside his leather jacket producing two brass knuckles, with black and his hired guns causing all sorts of hell John was left with people who had hid. Turning round he ducked out of the way of a baseball bat swung for his head brining his fist up and into the man’s gut he coughed up blood as Johns fist went straight through his intestines, the man grasped hold of his guts as they spilled out onto the floor. Before John could get a moments breath another came at him wielding an assault rifle punching the barrel of the gun it bent upwards. The man exclaimed in shock at the sight of his guns sudden change, this lasted for a only a couple of seconds before John smashed his fist into the man’s face crushing his skull and leaving a fist size dent in the man’s face. Looking around he could see that most of the fighting had come to an end.

John walked over to Mr Black taking the brass Knuckles off and slipping them inside his jacket. “Been a while since i’ve had to do stuff like this. I must say I do kind of miss it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have guessed.” Black looked at his handy-work for a moment, or at least you would assume so by the direction his featureless face was facing. The muscled giant crushed the remaining man’s head into a machine and began to head forward, ignoring the plight of the two henchmen cowering on either side of the mirror.

“Let’s go skinny, we’re looking for King.” Black forced open a door and bashed it straight into the lurking guard behind it, causing him to fire once with his pistol before colliding with the stairs. Black stomped on him as he passed and then smashed his shotgun into another man’s head like he was swinging a baseball bat.

The pair fought their way down a long corridor in the mid-level of the factory, until suddenly a machine pistol toting guard burst from cover and prepared to lay them both out. The wild man’s eyes bulged and his head jerked unnaturally as blood spurted across the wall beside him. The bullet pierced through his skull, and White emerged with his pistol still pointed in his direction as he turned to look at the two.

“What took you?” He asked, tilting his head and dropping the pistol to his waist.

“We were down there, where the real fighting was. Let’s get the fuck on with this.” Black growled, charging forward towards the door where Alex knew the office was located. He had obviously been here in the past, for a business meeting with King, and that memory was transferred to his two clones.

“What the fuck have we got here?” A classic Italian mafiaso voice rang out as the door collided inwards. The business man sat to his desk inside had slicked back hair and shifty eyes, he also looked extraordinarily cool for a man about to die.

Black and White blurred, and Alex returned with a wild look in his eyes.

“I’ve come for what you took from me you son of a bitch King, and if you don’t start talking I’ma have my friend here punch a hole in your face.” Alex drew a pistol as he threatened him, and waved John over for a demonstration of his abilities.

John simply walked into the room ignoring the door and pushing straight through a wall, the metal caving in around him. When he was inside the room he looked at the man that Alex addressed as King. “You know for a man in your position you don’t look that scared, I guess that means you’ve met mutants like me and Mr Alex before? Trust me I can do more than just walk through walls, I could pick you up and throw you in the air so fast that you’re skin would rip of your body.” John turned to Alex “What’s this guy stole from you anyway? You know there are probably some mutants that can read minds, maybe you should consider hiring them. ”

John pulled up a chair and sat down as Alex interrogated the man.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if there are a few mind readers out there, but frankly I think he got the message. Maybe if you stick around I’ll tell you what we’re doing here.” Alex pointed his gun at the slightly less smug mobster, and shook it lightly. “Well, what’s it to be?”

“You know the father will kill you for this Alex.”

“If he finds out…” Alex left it ominous, but the threat was very real.

“You aint got the fucking balls Alex, you’re a pus-“ The bullet rocketed through his desk lamp, mere inches from his body. Alex’s gun cocked in his hand and he re-aimed it at his head.

“F-FUCK! Ok.. ok.. I’ll tell you, crazy son-of-a-bitch.” He shuffled his hands around on the desk. “Fuck it means nothing to me anyway, complete ballshit science crap.” He threw Alex a small container which he opened to reveal a tightly packed set of calculations written hastily on white paper. He checked they were all present and looked away.

“Knife will get you… there’s no crossing someone like that. You might survive the Father’s retribution but you won’t be able to avoid him… you’re fucked Alex you’re fucking dea-“ Alex cut him off with a single round to the head, his brains splattered on the wall.

“Fuck off King.” Alex told him, not even looking as he holstered his pistol and nodded to John. Alex rifled around in his pocket and found a lighter, assuming his bleeding men were smart enough to have kept to their part of the plan accelerant was now spilled all over the lower floor. He lit the corner of King's desk and watched the flame begin to grow. They left the factory as soon as possible and got back into their respective vehicles.

“John, swing back by my place whenever you’re ready for more work. I’ll have a grand ready for you for this job soon.” As the window of his car slowly closed he looked out. “I can always use a man like you.”

[Firebreather]

Fox entered his apartment baffled why his doorknob had been broken and why his parking spot was filled. He entered with caution to find his landlord, Baku Kinpon; a Japanese man who barley showed any remorse for anyone, along with Blue leaning against the fireplace mantle with a shovel “Mr. Kinpon, what a surprise..” Fox said very confused hanging his apron on the coat hanger “Mr. Markson, me need to talked with you.” Mr. Kinpon said with a monotone voice, his accent was so hard to understand; it was on the verge of being incomprehensible “Ok.. Sir-“Suddenly Fox’s Manager; Scott Richards slammed the door behind him; Fox knew he was in for something.

“Take a seat Boy!” Scott said pushing him down into a chair; suddenly Blue flashed behind him and bonded his wrists to it. “What’s this about?” Fox struggled; Mr. Kinpon looked at Fox with a straight face as Blue flashed behind him again, Mr. Kinpon’s accent was suddenly gone “Your mother…” Mr. Kinpon struck a bag on cement with the shovel next to the mantle as Scott unveiled a stack of masonry bricks “You see that brick wall in the back? Well, you’re about to become a part of it.” Fox gasped and flailed in his chair but Scott held him down; meanwhile Blue teleported inside the wall and struck it open with a pickaxe “W-What is he!?” Fox squirmed in his chair; his eyes began to turn a faded blue, Mr. Kinpon laughed “Not human…” Blue teleported behind Fox and picked up his chair as if he was lighter than a ragdoll and tossed him into the wall; causing his chair to rupture. Fox stood up and began to run out the door with a pair of blue eyes. Down the hall, through the stairwell and out the back door; to his surprise, Blue was waiting for him in front of the car while the other 2 caught up.

“I am sorry! I will do anything! Please don’t kill me!” Fox pleaded “Kill you? No you got it all wrong.. Torture would be so much more enjoyable.. Just like we did to your mother 20 years ago…” Fox looked up with red eyes “You did what..” Fox growled struggling as Kinpon and Scott held him down; Blue took out his razor blade and attached it to his hand “Is this a shock? Orphan boy? We have been trying to hunt you down for ages you little bitch.” Blue chuckled while Fox continued to fill with rage “But don’t worry, it only hurt.. A lot, and the best part is no one will ever suspect a thing!” Fox’s eyes turned blood red… He blacked out and his instincts took over…