It was almost as if the unsettled weather was an omen of things to come.

The sky was dark and overcast - despite it only being late afternoon - and the thick, heavy quality of the air carried the promise of thunder and lightning, though quite when it would hit, was a mystery. In the town square, people were rushing past, eager to get home before the storm struck and this sense of urgency seemed to be as equally present in the winds, which whipped open coats and long hair into faces.

A small, crudely built stage was erected in the middle of the town square and a huge, hand-painted banner was hung above it declaring the name of the current mutant rights activist group - there was a different one every week; anything to get attention. A surprisingly large crowd had gathered, nearly fifty figures - normally, people steered clear for fear the government would label them Mutant Sympathisers. But not today. Today, the atmosphere seemed almost...reckless.

A red-headed guy was shouting from the stage through a megaphone but his words melded into an undecipherable buzz to anyone who wasn't in the immediate proximity of the stage. Dr Douglas winced slightly as she caught sight of them, marching down the pavement that ran the perimeter of the square and, on hearing the enthusiastic announcing and applause, she found herself slowing slightly to listen. She knew she shouldn't but she couldn't help herself. It was one of her few bad habits. Curiosity, as a physicist, was hard to stifle.

Her bag was weighed down with several heavy books full of notes on quantum physics - the topic of her lecture, which she had come home specially to deliver. Maybe she should visit her parents…or maybe not. She could feel the weariness seeping into her limbs and the strong breeze was weaving its way into her thin coat, causing her to shiver slightly. She had her hands thrust deep into her coat pockets but she could still feel her fingers being seized up by numbness. A pair of dark-tinted glasses sat on the bridge of her nose; a precaution, in case she accidentally tapped into her technopath abilities, which turned her eyes into an unmistakable fluorescent colour and showed her up as a mutant. It seldom happened but she just couldn’t take the chance. Especially not in cities, where she could sense electricity buzzing everywhere, tempting her.

She didn't want to look at the red-head, but she found herself doing anyway, wondering what his mutation was. Whether he even was a mutant or just a righteous non-mutant. Shaking her head, she felt her phone receive a message - despite it being on silence - and paused, fishing it out of her bag. Her eyes remained glued to the rally.

It was a notification from her website, FreeGenes. A new member had signed up, following the tracking session she had spent last evening draining her energy doing, but at least something good had come from it. That made a grand total of 43 users now. Dr Douglas smiled to herself, at her small victory.

The shouting was becoming more passionate and intense, now. A murmuring was snaking through the crowd as everyone's adrenaline seemed to mingle, fashioned and directed towards their cause. Dr Douglas felt a faint prickle of alarm as she slipped her phone back into her bag and continued walking past, her shoes clicking on the sidewalk. The rallies, though frequent, didn't often reach this magnitude. She could see her car parked in a space on the opposite side of the square and she only had another corner and stretch of pavement to go. It felt like she was approaching the last mile of a marathon.

Situations like this always made her feel uncomfortable. Hit a little too close to home. She was always paranoid that, in the crowd, there was a mutant who could detect other mutants. She had encountered a couple on her website; though she could seek out mutants through the internet, she couldn't identify them, but they could. If they pointed her out, her cover would be blown and her reputation, her career - her life - would be ruined. And Dr Douglas always liked to feel in control.

Silently, she picked up the pace and carried on, a bad feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

[Six years prior]

-My name is Izzy, and all I ever wanted was peace.-

This was the moment he had worked for. For the past few months, Izzy had struggled to get a speaking position at the Mutant Registration Act hearing. When he was finally granted, he worked day and night on a speech that would linger in the minds of even the most firm anti-mutant protesters. He couldn't help the jitters he felt as his name was announced, cuing him to go up on that stage and change minds. Izzy glanced back at his friends, the ones that were brave enough to accompany him here. There was Isa, who had yellow-green scales growing over her entire body. John, whose body could leak acidic fluids from its skin at will. Joann, who could control emotions. And finally, Terry, who was fairly normal. They all gave him smiles of encouragement.

"Well, get up there already," John said with a chuckle. Izzy smiled back and nodded. He turned and made his way onto the stage, all business now. He stopped at the podium, suddenly painfully aware of just how many people were here, and now staring at him. He felt hot and uncomfortable. Izzy reached down to his notes and straightened them nervously. His mouth was dry as sand. Then, suddenly, his anxiety was gone. Izzy glanced at Joann, who gave him a smirk. He knew there was a reason he brought her here today. With confidence, Izzy turned back to the crowd.

"People call me radical, rash, insane, even. They say that a human sympathizing with mutants is illogical; treacherous. But I must ask you, who is the real traitor here? What you propose to do today is against everything we have fought for in the past: freedom, equality, hope. Labeling each and every mutant as a criminal before a crime has even been committed is radical. Treating them like monsters is rash. Killing and out casting them is insane. These could be your sons, your daughters, wives, parents, you. The times we face ahead will be tough, yes, and there will be bad mutants. But is that to say that all of them are bad?"

As Izzy spoke, he never even noticed the red dot appear on his chest, right above his heart. Before anyone could stop it, the shot was taken. Izzy was blown off his feet, a gaping hole in his chest. People screamed and chaos began. His friends tried to make a run onto the stage, only to be stopped by security. Police appeared out of nowhere and quickly gathered his bleeding, twitching form. Something wasn't right, but no one could stop it. No one could have known.

=====================Six years later.=======================

-My name is 32, and all I have are orders.-

[One week prior]

The sound of the engines was deafening. The men in the plane shifted restlessly, except for one. 32 sat on the bench, his back bent and arms rested on his knees as he looked blankly at the floor. He was doing what he did before every assignment: plan. The files were vague, leaving plenty of room for error. The facility was researching a way to bring the x-genes out in every human. They claimed that mutants were the next step in evolution, and that they could find a way to let everyone take that step forward. They could stop the impending war. FOH didn't want that.

The lab was located a few miles outside a small town in Greenland. With the autumn snow, the only way to excess the site was by air. 32 and three other men were dressed in winter camo. Three were bundled up in fur and coats underneath, while 32 only wore the field jacket. He couldn't freeze, and he couldn't afford to be slowed down. The other men were just there to keep the perimeter secure, to shoot down anyone who made it outside. 32 was the only one going in.

He'd been given the mission a week back: track down Linda Campbell, the head scientist working on Project: Evolve, and bring her in. Alive. 32 had tracked her movements across the US, only to find that the base of operations wasn't even in the country. Her latest flight to Greenland led them straight to the lab, and into his next mission: kill everyone inside, and bring Campbell back. The information inside the facility would be very useful to FOH in the future. They could create their own super army, trained to follow their every beck and whim. As 32's handler had always said: The best kind of mutant is the kind you control. His handler sat a few seats down from him, only there to make sure he didn't go AWOL while overseas. In the frozen forest, he would be impossible to re-capture.

"Alright men, haul out!" A man barked at them. The three scout shooters got up, steeled their nerves, and jumped to parachute into the forest. 32 followed after them, making no hesitation before stepping out of the plane. The men were forced to pull their chutes before the plane was even close, to avoid drawing attention. 32, on the other hand, could afford to wait. By the time he pulled his parachute, the ground was rapidly approaching. He landed on his feet with a hard thud that would have shattered the legs of a regular man. He dropped the white chute and left it there in the snow as he trudged towards the building. A light snow was falling, barely concealing him.

It didn't take him long to break in. The security was depressingly lacking. 32 had his knife ready as he stalked the halls; the element of surprise was essential. As he turned a corner, he saw a man in a white coat walking with his back turned. 32 crept up behind him, silent as ever, and clapped a hand over his mouth. A blade was shoved through the man's back before he could even scream. The scientist dropped, and 32 made his way forward. After a few more kills, he knew his time was running out. Someone was bound to find a body. And no sooner did this thought cross his mind that the alarm went off.

"Code red, repeat, code red. There is an intruder on level 3." 32 cursed and sheathed his bloodied knife. His hands went for his gun, instead. The sleek metal of the K31 was cool in his hands. As he rounded the corner, three security guards came running towards him. Three shots, three dead men. 32 stepped over them, hurrying now. More security was pouring from the wood works. Three more dead men. 32 turned a corner and pressed his back up against the wall to reload, then stepped back into action. Four dead men. Two dead men. Reload. After tearing through every office, every cubicle, every corner, he finally found Campbell. She was cornered in her office, a pistol in her hand.

"Come any closer and I'll shoot!" She threatened in a shaken voice, her hand trembling. 32 remained silent as he stormed in, gun raised. She fired, hitting him in the face. Pain blossomed in his right eye and forehead. Blood began to leak through his grey mask, but he didn't stop. She fired again, but missed as she dodged his incoming arm. The woman crawled under her desk and tried to run from the room, but 32 was fast. The butt of his gun came down on her head, knocking her out cold. The killer grabbed up the woman's limp form and tossed her over his shoulder. 32 continued on, his work not quite done.

It had been requested that he search for the formula while he was there. 32 had no idea where to even start, but he knew that someone would. "Where is it?!" He demanded the cornered man, who was trembling in his lab coat.
"W-where's what?" The man was hunkered down, arms up protectively. He had no weapons, no defense.
"The formula." 32 raised his gun. "Where is it?"
"I-I don't-" A bullet whizzed so close to the man's ear that it could have cut hairs. The scientist yelped. "In the basement! Sector B! Please don't kill me I have a fam-" The man was cut off by a bullet in his head. 32 turned and quickly made his way downstairs. It didn't take long to find the lab, but it looked like someone had beat him to it. Flames and smoke were engulfing the entire lower floor, a failsafe in case the facility was found. 32 cursed and turned to make his way up the stairs, back on the original mission. The small plane was waiting for him on the runway. He climbed on and unceremoniously dumped Campbell onto the floor. Two men scrambled to secure her. The third had apparently been shot by a fleeing guard. 32 couldn't say he was too terribly upset.

He sat down and pulled off his mask, a blood stain on his fully healed face. His handler gave him an approving nod, but offered no more reward. The plane took off, headed back for the States. It was a long, uncomfortable flight. The moment the woman woke up, she began talking and yelling and making the 'bring her in alive' portion of 32's mission harder by the second. His head was starting to hurt; his mind hadn't been reset for over a week. The shot to the head was jarring strange memories. 32 bent over and rested his elbows on his knees, his hands pushing through his short hair. Memories of other missions. He remembered the yelling, the begging, the sound of gunfire. He felt...bad? No, not remorseful. Just...uneasy. Angry. His handler took notice and pulled out his phone.

"We're an hour out. The asset is showing symptoms of reset withdrawal. I suggest having the chair prepped before we arrive."
"No." The voice on the other end was firm. "His mind has been left alone on purpose. I want him irritable, angry. He's going to have to get creative with this one."
"Then it's safe to assume that it will be interrogating her?" His handler said, eyes roaming back to 32. At the word 'interrogate', the woman sitting on the floor, hands cuffed, visible tensed.
Her eyes went to 32 as well. "You won't get anything out of me! I don't care what you do, I'm not risking the wor-"
"Shut her the hell up!" The outburst surprised everyone. The two soldiers just about jumped out of their skins as they scrambled to find a gag. 32's handler even seemed taken aback.
"Was that him?" The smooth voice on the other end of phone asked.
"Yes. It seems that it's agitated by Campbell's constant noise."
"Good. Just the way we want him."

Today had to be a bad day.
Ryu had seen a kid, a small child, getting beating by some guy that kept yelling to the kid to give him all his money..
Seriously, a grown up guy beating a child into a pulp over money? how many children that play on the streets even carry money to begin with, he never had any money when playing outside.
So naturally Ryu jumped in, grabbing the bat the guy was using, pulling it out of the man's hands and thrown it away, the guy got angry and smashed his fist into my chest.
I could hear the bones in his hand break as it hit the silver colored layer of second skin, the man was at least smart enough to run screaming.
could laugh at that at least, looked at the kid and got a rock in my face, did not hurt but still "hey what kind of thanks is that?"
The kid threw a second one "kid, where did you hide those rocks when he was beating you, I am just freaking standing here, ah screw it"
I ran, seriously I ran from a kid, Why dont have any any powers like shooting webs to sling away in style, here I am, super hero and I am running like the guy that broke his hand on my skin from the kid that same guy was beating, since when did super hero's become targets to bulling of little kids they save from bulling adults???

still that sucked, felt completely ridiculed, but then I just had to run into a street gang, and guess what, its broken hand guy's friends.
worst of all I heard a sound from behind right after that.
"mutant scum, die" followed by the blast of a gun.
judging from the sensation it had to be a shotgun, it feels like I got a huge ball against me, but at least the pebbles are small enough not to hurt me.
But others also pulled guns, so... yeah...
have been running from those idiots for like 15 minutes before I realized, they had bikes, simple bicycler so did not hear it, but it explains why they kept up, only reason they failed to catch up was they kept trying to shoot my ass, and I meant that, they literally were aiming for my ass!!
like what kind of mutant hating idiots aim at a persons but and not at the head of chest or, something vital??
did they wanted to torture me so they had to capture me or something, then why shoot a freaking shotgun first??
My only upside is that I am familiar with this place and if memory serves... yes, fire-stairs, one jump.... got it, yes, they wont be able to climb up here like this, I hope, at least it slows them down enough to get away...
Climbing up as fast as I could, I started to jump from rooftop to rooftop to rooftop, getting to a big gap, I shifted the silver like mass, opening my stomach area but at least I could glide barely enough to get to the other building.
Pulling my power back into my back I breathed, exhausted..
then I slapped my face "could have just used claws and climbed a building that way, would have been faster, arrg, freaking stupid me"
I sat down and suddenly heard something, getting back up to look I noticed there was a human rights activist thing happening, interested I stayed on the rooftop and watched things.

Practice was cancelled today and Rosaline thanked any possible higher power for that. The incoming storm had caused enough commotion to actually cancel a practice for once. They usually went into the gym for practice but thankfully it was all booked up by the other sports teams. Rose shuffled her feet as she waited for her "friends" to join her. Sarah and Joanna joined her at last in the same red cheerleading uniforms Rose was wearing. They hastily began making their way home. For the past three years, Rose had walked home from practice with them but this year was getting tiresome. She was beginning to truly realize how ignorant they were. The two of them spent the next few minutes complaining about how sticky the air was and how gross the weather was going to be. Rosaline actually quite liked thunderstorms. She used to love sitting on the sofa and watching the lightning while she read a good book. The wind, however, was not to Rose's liking. Wisps of fair hair had been blowing into her mouth and eyes the entire time. She stopped to tuck her hair into an unruly braid and the two girls stopped with her, now babbling on about other girls on the team. "Mary's a skank. "Rose finally inputted. She wasn't one to talk about people but Mary pretty much bragged about all the guys she slept with.

"Ain't that the truth." Sarah said. "She's slept with half the basketball team."
So have you. Rose thought to herself, rolling her eyes. The sudden sound of shouting in the distance made Rose glance up. She took a step toward the sound and craned her neck to see what was going on. She could make out a large amount of people in the town square.

"Oh my gosh, Rossiee! A certain hottie was eying you in class today. I heard him talking about how cute you are yesterday too. I'm one hundred percent sure he's going to ask you out tomorrow-"
She darted forward before she could finish. Rose slowed to a stop as she found a large gathering around a crappily-built stage, all loudly voicing whatever opinion they had. The crowd was getting rowdy as a man yelled into a megaphone. She couldn't really understand what he was saying but she recognized that the name on the banner had something to do with some mutant activist group. Daringly, she began to move toward the crowd to try to find out what the man was telling them when Sarah grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

"What the hell? Are you insane?"Sarah yelled. "Don't associate with those people they're a bunch of freak-lovers."She brought her voice down to a whisper as she said this. "God I'll never understand why the government didn't just get rid of them the moment they found out about them. It's because of morons like these that those freaks will kill us all one day with their weird-ass powers or whatever."

Joanna shook her head in disgust. " Why anyone would protest for a bunch of monsters I'll never know. Let's just go this crowd is getting psychotic." She pulled both the girls back to the sidewalk.

"They're just people, Joanna."Rosaline said. "They're not much different than us." They both turned to glare at her. Rose thought it was peculiar how one difference could make one person lesser than the other. It had been decades ago that a person would be viewed with contempt just for having a different skin color. Now, if someone could do something that another couldn't, that person was a monster.

"Jesus, Rose. Are you a sympathizer?" Joanna whisper-hissed.

Rose looked between them and shrugged. "I'm not getting involved in any of that. I'm just saying they're people too."

"Let me tell you something. One of those freaks killed my dad without even touching him. That's no human."Joanna said darkly and turned away from her. She speedily walked away from both her and Sarah.

Sarah rubbed Rose's shoulder and smiled sadly. "She's just a little touchy on the subject. You're so cute seeing the best in everything but she is right and you know it. Let's just hurry home before it rains. "

"You know I think I'm going to hit this grocery store quickly. I'll call my brother to pick me up or something." Rose said quietly and turned toward the small grocery store. "I'll see you later." Rose had been about to go into the grocery store when she noticed another woman had stopped to listen. She recognized her from somewhere but she couldn't quite place it. The woman was staring at the rally-leader with as much curiosity as she had moments before. It then hit her. That was her brother's old physics teacher at the University he attended. She had seen her when her brother had taken her to tour the University two summers ago. Rose wondered if maybe she was a mutant too. Even if she was, she would never admit it if she was as smart as she appeared to be. Giving that information out could mean losing the respect of everyone who's ever cared about you.

Ally perched on the corner of a side street watching the regular mutant activists. She stood there silently, the lingering shadows from the balcony above instantly clinging to her just waiting for the slightest form of consent in order to conceal her fully. The sky above was gloomy, which was both a positive and a negative in her eyes. A dark sky meant rain was to come which inevitably meant a hard nights sleep in the cold and damp, however the clouds kept away the glare of the sun and allowed the shadows to stretch further beyond their confines - a new positive in her eyes.

She watched with curiosity as the various messages were rallied between the group. She half wondered if there were others like her out there, so close that she could touch them if only she knew where to find them. Her ability, or power I guess in a sense, had started to develop only 3 months ago. At first she had no idea what was happening to her, and even now she still wasn't sure of the workings behind it. But she figured that with all this mutant protesting it was indeed her species these humans were trying to help.

She smiled momentarily before taking a few steps back as a policeman wandered by, she was always wary of the bright yellow uniforms, especially in her line of work. Well I guess it wasn't really work, more like a way of life, a means for survival. She sighed looking towards the clock at the town centre. It was late afternoon and she knew if she were to find a good spot - hopefully with decent cover - to rest for the night, then well she best start searching now.

She scanned the town centre once more before beginning to slink around the outskirts. She had planned a big job for tonight to set her up with some cash for a couple of weeks. It even gave her the rare opportunity to get online - a luxury she didn't posses and greatly craved in order to keep searching for things to better explain her abilities and what she could further do with them. So far she had only mastered simple tricks, all with shadows of course, but she wanted to know more, find more and most importantly see if there was anyone else like her out there for real rather than just taking what the humans spoke of as truth. For all she knew she may not be a mutant at all.

The rain was almost soothing, the tea just right and the soft piano playing in the background was enough to ease Kevin into comfort. It had been a while since he relaxed, and it showed when it was revealed which café he had chosen. Not far from where the mutant was enjoying a moment of serenity, through the storm and the gathering crowds, a man was holding a speech. His red hair marked him quite easily, as if a sniper sight planted on his forehead. The thought was almost ironic, but Kevin forced it out before a smile stretched across his lips at the thought of a fellow mutant falling prey to the aggressive nature of mankind. Every word was muffled behind rain, wind and a large glass window offering the view. “Sir?” A female voice had attempted to reach him quite a few times, now snapping him out of his train of thoughts. Kevin turned towards the waitress with a soft smile on his lips.

“Forgive me, Miss.” He began. “Would you repeat yourself one more time?”

“Would you like something else, sir? Maybe some pie?” The apple pie was apparently ‘Today’s special’ and was considered wonderful, but Kevin could barely remember the last time he ate. He felt no hunger, it wasn’t necessary to even drink but he enjoyed the soothing sensation of tea running down his throat, not to mention the taste. Come to think of it, Kevin only ate candy and drank tea followed by the occasional cup of hot chocolate. Well, if you’re immortal, might as well use it.

“I am fine, thank you.” Kevin reached into his wallet and slid a twenty towards the waitress. “For your patronage.” He nodded. She gladly accepted the tip but soon realised that more costumers needed her for taking orders. Kevin returned back to his thoughts as his eyes trailed towards the gathering mass outside. How far was this going to get? As if a bunch of children banging at a brick wall, asking for rights. Though, the alternative wasn’t very charming either. War was never a pretty sight, though he feared it was inevitable. The French Revolution taught mankind that no one was safe on a throne, and if the suppressed peasants are a bunch of super charged, pissed off mutants, more than heads will eventually roll. A shame, most mutants are simply scared and want to live their lives.

Kevin slipped into his white leather jacket which covered the black tank top tightly hugging his frame. Fingerless leather gloves clad his hands and boots reached up his shins over a pair of jeans with more than a single belt hanging down the side of his waist. Had this been his usual scene, a sword would find home on his back but it was high time he returned to the land of the civilised. He had to admit however, he wasn’t very impressed so far. There was more acceptance in the various arenas he had called home. For a warrior which he would consider himself, Kevin wasn’t very visibly fit. He was thin, almost raging onto scrawny with little to no visible muscles stretching out across his body. Of course, his mutation was the reason for the never changing appearance but one was not to consider him weak as a high amount of strength was hidden beneath that small frame. Standing at as little as 5’5” wouldn’t intimidate many until they’d meet him in a fight.

He opened the door with a ringing sound coming from the bell. Was the sky going to cry? With this city’s history of mutant and human violence, he could only guess with the black clouds gathering in tune to the crowd.

The commotion, the bustling business, the loud sounds and ever present city crowds....This is a city that never sleeps, thought Tony as she sat back in her seat, silent to the point that she would be unnoticeable if it was darker. Tony looked out the window adjacent to her seat, her view becoming temporarily interrupted by the occasional bar patron, stumbling drunkenly around. From her seat Tony had a view of the roughly built stage and the red head upon the top of it, though she couldn't make out what he was saying over the commotion around her.

She was wearing her shaolin monks robes, something she had caught grief for sense she arrived. The robes consisted of leather forearm bracers, large beads around her neck around the size of base balls, flat leather sandals her lean muscular biceps were exposed. The main body of the outfit was a simple yellow textile fabric with a grey border, her pants were crimson and loose to allow easier movements. She watched the stage with curiosity and wondered how she would locate other mutants like her..... Until such a time she would try to remain incognito, and pick up on western culture and customs.....they seemed very rude and brutish to her...

‘Why am I even here?’ Oh right. That. She looked up at the red headed maniac standing up on the stage shouting into a megaphone that urged the gatherers to cheer and chant along with him. “Idiots.” Elena mumbled bringing the travel coffee cup up to her lips longing a hot bittersweet chocolate sip, only to be greeted with a lukewarm blandness. That’s what she got for ordering the largest size in the café. She brought the cup down and squinted her vision towards the crowd, of course all the moving people are just blurs in her eyes. Elena dug into the pockets of her hoodie pulling out her wide framed glasses. Slipping them on, she looked to the crowd once more.

‘There he is.’ Smiling and cheering with a blue haired Asian girl held tightly to his side, was her own spiky haired brother. She didn’t even know why she was here. Julian had made his decisions and he should suffer accordingly. He smiled brightly at something his friend said and her stoic mask melted into a sweet smile. That’s why she was here. He’s just sixteen and has no idea what kind of mess he got himself into, and as his sister she had to protect his innocence as long as she could. Which meant stalking him to these protests, even if she might get drenched in the process, the sky was growing darker and the clouds heavier with rain. She could feel it deep in her bones. At least if something happened she would have a stable supply for her powers than the large water bottle in her bag next to her.

She crossed her legs trying to look as casual as possible, so he wouldn’t detect her in the crowd. He may have acted like he hates her but he clearly didn’t. He would be gone each morning and would always leave her a glass of orange juice and toast ready on the table. The boy didn’t give up, constantly trying to get her to become active in their cause. Secretly, she agreed with everything he preached to her at night, and what the red headed man was yelling out to the crowd. She just couldn’t get caught up in it, too dangerous. Her iPhone pinged in her pocket and she dug it out to reveal that a new post on FreeGenes had been made. Julian had made her a profile without telling her, and she couldn’t figure out how to deactivate it. At least she could track him better, he was constantly on the thing and the other posts made by the people excited her, even though she never responded back. Elena yawned and picked up her coffee cup again. She was going to crash eventually 24 hours without sleep would do that to you but, she to make sure Julian made it home first. Elena was so out of it that she hadn’t noticed the door to the café open up and didn’t check to see that they had walked away yet before she picked up her coffee.

Unscrewing the top, no steam rose off the liquid. She hardly had it not but ten minutes! “Can’t get good service anywhere these days.” She said to herself as she stuck a finger in the coffee feeling the water mixed into it all and concentrated on the raising the temperature. The drink hissed and steam began to roll off, just under scalding like she liked it. Her finger burned a little but it didn’t bother her as she screwed the top onto it taking a long sip.
 

(You guys are really gonna' hate 32 after this post. Warning in advance for: gore, torture, general viciousness, ect)

[One week prior]

Upon reaching the base, Campbell was hauled from the plane and taken off to a holding room. Meanwhile, 32 reported to his superior.

"Ah, you look like hell. You really should rest more often," The head of the FOH 'defense' sector commented. He smirked at 32, who did, indeed, look very tired. The man 32's powers had been derived from had been a lot more powerful than himself. 32 understood that he was able to go weeks without sleep, food, water, and could even grow back limbs. 32, meanwhile, wasn't as powerful. He needed 12 hours of sleep a week in order to operate normally, food every 3 days, and at least one cup of water per day. His limbs and major organs, as one could tell from his heart, could not grow back if completely removed.

The comment was meant as a jeer at the assassin. The defense director, Murphy, knew damn well that 32 would not, could not, rest unless ordered to. 32, however, remained indifferent. His cold, dark eyes pierced the man as he stood, back straight and at attention, in front of his desk. Murphy frowned and shifted a little.
"Give me a mission report."
"The facility was cleared, all personnel dead. Campbell was secured before I went in search of the formula as requested. The formula was not secured due to the basement level of the facility being destroyed in a fire, likely a fail safe in case of invasion." The answer was cold, mechanical, and sounded almost pre-recorded. 32's eyes didn't blink as they burrowed into Murphy's forehead.

"That's a shame. If we could have gotten that formula, we wouldn't even need Campbell. As it is, you'll have to torture the location of the secondary base out of her. With the kind of power that formula could offer, we could destroy the mutant enemy once and for all, with their own kind at that." 32 remained unmoved. Murphy looked up with slight annoyance. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get to it!"

"My head hurts." It was true; the dull pounded on the plane had turned into a sharp and unrelenting knife that seemed to dig itself into his skull. The only way to fix it would be wipe his memories yet again, and then let him eat and sleep. Honestly, that was all 32 was really interested in right now. He'd had enough of the woman's noise on the plane, and the last thing he wanted to do was go into that room with her. His small comment may have seemed harmless enough, but they both knew the meaning behind it. 32 had been left unwiped long enough to begin forming his own opinions; he was actually suggesting that the director gave him a break. Murphy was having none of it.
"Was that a tone of defiance I heard?" He said, his voice low, barely hiding his impatience. 32 swallowed hard.
"No sir."
"Then get your ass in there and get answers!"

The walk to the holding room wasn't a long one. 32 kept up a quick pace the whole way, not slowing for anything. He was irritated and angry, and the mask he wore over his face itched. The quicker he got this over with, the quicker he got to go back to sleep. God help the woman should she be stubborn. And of course, she would be. That was clear the moment 32 entered the room. Campbell sat in a wooden chair in front of a cheap desk, secured to it by metal cuffs around her wrists. She glared at him with an acidic look, the same that he often wore regardless of who he was looking at. There was a chair on the other side of the desk, intended for him to sit in, but 32 preferred to stand.

"We want to know where your secondary base is, and you are going to tell us." His voice was the same, robotic tone that it always was.
"Go to hell," The woman spat. 32 expected as much. He wasted no time moving this thing along; he, frankly, wasn't in the mood. The soldier made his way over to a tray in the corner of the room, supplied with different utensils. Scalpel, pliers, hammer, and other such basic torture essentials. No one had ever taught him the art of prying answers from people; he'd just been shoved in a room with an enemy one day and ordered to do it. Over the years, 32 had become quite skilled at it. Some people cracked easier than others, he had learned. He liked those people. They made his job easier. But then there were those damn ones that hung on for weeks, until he found whatever figurative crowbar it took to pry information out of them. He hoped this woman wasn't one of those people. He had already decided that this would not last longer than a couple days.

32 picked up the pliers and came back over to the woman. "If you don't tell me, I'm going to break your fingers." The words were so straightforward that it was unnerving. He saw a flash of fear behind Campbell's eyes, but she steeled herself bravely and kept her lips pursed. 32 didn't hesitate to wrap the pliers around her left thumb and crush. A painful scream filled the room, but when it was done, he gained no results.
"Why are you doing this?" Campbell managed to choke out through the obvious pain in her voice.
"Because they told me to." The answer was so blunt.
"They're trying to destroy mutants, don't you realize that? I saw you heal from that gunshot; you're a mutant. How could you turn against your own kind?!" The pliers crushed down on her second left finger, cutting her desperate attempt at reasoning off. Campbell cried out again, but fought the pain.

32 almost always went for the fingers first; they were easy and fragile. Crushing fingers, cutting fingers off, but a person only had so many fingers. Five hours into the session, and he was out of digits. Campbell sported a bloodied face, missing teeth, bloody nubs on each hand, and a great portion of missing flesh. Still, she refused to tell him what he needed to know. 32 was furious inside, but his cold demeanor never showed it. He was beginning to take this personally, which is exactly what Murphy had wanted him to do all along. He demanded she tell him what he wanted to know; she spat bloody saliva on his mask. The man turned and left the room, only to return shortly with a manila folder in his hands. He leaned casually against the far wall as he pretended to read it, for effect only. 32 had already memorized every aspect of the papers inside. On the outside page, the name 'Linda Campbell' was printed.

"You live at 236 East Forest drive, Manford, Kentucky. You have a husband and three children: ages 13, 9, and 3." 32 looked over the top of the folder at the woman, whose breath had caught in her throat. "I don't like children."
"I swear to God if you hurt them-"
"Then tell what I want to know."

Campbell's face had paled. 32 knew he had already won; it was just a matter of time and how far he was willing to go. And he was willing to go as far as he needed.
"I won't," The woman finally said, "I won't let you use my work to start a war."
"You've made a mistake." With that, 32 turned and left, leaving Campbell yelling and screaming for him to come back, to stay away from her family.

32 returned a day later, a small body bound and tossed over his shoulder. He dumped Campbell's thirteen year old daughter in the extra chair, tears of fright rolling down her face. Campbell used every foul word in the dictionary to describe him.
"Tell me what I want to know, and she won't be hurt," He said flatly.
"You're sick! You're a sick fucking bastard!"
"Mom? What's going on? I'm scared!"

32 ignored the cries as he went back over to his tray of tools. The bloody hammer seemed like a good option. He came back over to the girl and grabbed her hand, forcing it onto the table. Without hesitation, he brought the hammer down at full force, making a sick crack of breaking bones. The girl screamed and tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. His dark eyes shot towards Campbell, who was yelling, crying, and damning him to hell. But she still wasn't cracking.
I could be asleep right now. 32 didn't have much patience left when he'd walked into the room yesterday. What little he had left now was running thin. He tossed the hammer across the room and drew his gun.
"NO!" Campbell screamed, her voice hoarse. 32 raised it just enough to shoot the girl in the knee. The sound of them both crying and yelling was deafening.
"Tell me!"
"I won't give you shit, you fucking monster!" 32 raised the gun to the girl's head, giving the mother one last chance.
"Tell me now!"
Campbell sobbed and screamed, "NO!"

The sound of a gunshot filled the room, and the noise level was suddenly reduced to half. "NOOO!" Campbell sobbed uncontrollably as her daughter's form went limp. "You sick bastard! I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you!"
"You have two more children left," 32 said, not sign of the slightest remorse.
"You're a fucking monster! A monster!"
32 turned to leave once more, then Campbell finally broke. "No! I'll tell you! Just leave my family alone!" He stopped and holstered his gun. It was about damn time.

Rosaline always had as much curiosity as a cat. She leaned against the brick wall of the grocery store, watching the charade continue. Lately she had found herself often drawn to these sorts of things. Secrets could be very lonely. She yearned to speak to maybe another mutant. The only person she had showed her ability to had been her brother, who seemed to not be gifted as she was. Her mother, of course, was not one. The last option was her father but who knows where he ended up. Rose knew he must have been one. She had always flirted with the possibility of her father being taken away. She and Hunter had been told he had left after a big argument between him and their mother. Rosaline never bought it.

Any one of the people in the crowd could be a mutant and any of them could know she was one too. It made it all the more risky being here but this rally was different than the others. She hadn't seen anything like this. Rose was staying with the hope of witnessing something important happen. The soft ring of a bell and squeak of an opening door made her glance to the side of her. A young Asian teen, possibly around her age, came out of the coffee shop that resided beside the grocery store. Maybe even he could be one. She had seen him watching from inside the shop. Rosaline went to fixate her gaze back on the scene before her when her phone vibrated. She took it out to find 4 missed calls from her mother and 6 from her brother. Rose slid the menu aside to send them both a text and found herself on a website called "FreeGenes." Vaguely, she could remember googling things on her phone and stumbling upon this site in the middle of the night while tucked into her bed. Unfortunately, she had fallen asleep before she could register for it. She supposed she could quickly do it now.

This day was an absolute relief for Danny who had been heavily bundled by sheer amounts of stress and work projects from the past few days. It wasn't easy to compensate extensive effort for a rewarding outcome even for a business man. Most of the time, Danny would end up restless while he constantly mushes up a large percentage of his labor. But all of it paid off, for now at least. Day offs were sometimes difficult to predict, sometimes the busiest people might even forget something like that existed. Whatever shenanigans and misunderstandings may emerge from the day off's purpose, Danny would firstly be thankful that he had one just for once.

All was perfectly well until something bustled in to thrash his plans. Unfortunately, the plans arranged for spending a day free from work was rather a disappointment as weather forecasts blunted with dissatisfying news. It was sad for the most part for Danny but he was persistent towards it. He wanted his day off to be worth but sadly, mustering an idea in the midst of an upcoming storm would be rather difficult to carry out. Still, it was disappointing but as Danny carefully swam through his thoughts, there was a simple yet absurd idea which came up flashing inside his mind.

An hour later

There was something amiss. Juno felt agitated, or at least it was something Danny could comprehend from the behavior she was recently demonstrating. Though he had to admit, it was quite tiring to glance back and forth at the poor girl on the backseat of the car. Her eyes were looking stably blank, breaths were quite rapid and heavy and her stout velvet tail was wobbling frequently. After another glance, Juno began yelping softly, almost as if she was weeping. Danny slowed the car's pace down, taking yet another glance as he warily examined the dog. "You alright there buddy?" Danny whispered audibly. Haplessly, there wasn't anything he could think to ease off whatever troubles Juno was facing.

He had to stop the car but if he would, his renewed plans for the day-off might end up in shambles. There wasn't any choice actually and if it would be for Juno's sake, he had to do stop it. Spotting a parking space nearby, Danny cautiously whirled the steering wheel as he moved the car over, slowly setting up beside another car. As he glanced thoroughly through the windshield, Danny noticed that he actually drove at the town square but at least, this unintended happening phased with the first part of his day off plan which was driving around the city. Few tiny blobs of rainfall started to give trace towards the car's windshield. That indicated only one obvious matter. However, there was still Juno who was continuing the weak yelping. Obviously Danny disliked the sound of it and the fact that his ears might be screeched for the next several minutes if he won't think of something to stop it.

Luckily, he remembered bringing Juno's treats along and immediately reached for it under the front seat. Sadly, it didn't solve anything. In fact, it made things a lot worse for Danny to handle as the dog's yelps shifted into excessive movements of agitation. Juno descended from the backseat and went sauntering back and forth inside the car. The sight of it made Danny sigh heavily as he brushed his palms against his face. And the thought of his plan working perfectly faded too soon than what he never expected. "Alright buddy, time to drive home" As slightly frustrated as he sounded, he might actually consider on having some decent time at home though it wouldn't satisfy him fully.

Doleful about the ill-fated results, Danny restarted the car's engine, bursting in as the air conditioning went after. Seconds later, his senses flustered something which was sounding quite odd. At first, he thought it was the engine but then again, he was certain that it was in a good shape as to what he examined the day before and most certainly, the sound wasn't something an engine would normally emit, from what he observed at least. Danny browsed the vicinity, tilting his head over to different sides hoping to find wherever the source was. Then, it started to grow audibly. "What the.." Curious, Danny grabbed an umbrella and opened the front seat's door. "Stay there for a while buddy, I'll be right back." He spoke softly as he glanced back at Juno.

After a few walks from his car, the sound earlier shifted into a swarm of angry cries. There was a protest or perhaps an activity held by activists. What would it be this time? That was something Danny both understood and was quite aware of, but judging from the looks of it all, there might be something different. Something unexpected that might probably involve a lot of innocent lives. Danny finally caught a much clearer view of the scene. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt then went on strolling towards the crowd cautiously.

Dr Douglas reached her car - a sleek, black Mercedes - and fumbled around for her keys, which she had been sure she'd left her pocket. It was if people were leaking from the surrounding buildings, as the crowd grew even more. She began feeling uncomfortable; she didn't like large gatherings, with the exception of her lecture audiences. She glanced around herself, spying a car park in a space a little way away from her own, the engine coughing to life, only to fail a few seconds later, causing a man to slam the door and head off towards the crowd. Poor soul, she thought, knowing she could probably fix the problem with a mere touch. She shook her head, forcing her attention back to her own car.

Her car keys didn't seem to be in her pockets. Nor in her bag. Nor anywhere on her person. Frustrated, she ran her fingers through her hair and adjusted her dark-tinted glasses, debating the pros and cons of simply unlocking and starting the car without her keys - that is, using her mutant abilities. But that would raise questions amongst some of the more observant people at the office - where she was guessing she had left her keys - if they connect the dots and realise. Unwilling to trudge all the way back to her workplace, she slumped against her car door and threw her bag on the hood of her car.

The mutant rally continued with as much gusto as ever. The red haired man on the stage was now eliciting chants in the crowd; though Dr Douglas couldn't make out the exact words, it was something to do with evolution. The usual, really. She listened only because she couldn't face the alternatives. That's, anyway, what she told herself.

It was beginning to rain now. She extracted a small, black umbrella from her bag and clicked it up, huddling under it, shivering slightly. Typically, she thought bitterly, just typical, folding her arms angrily and letting her face fall into a frown.

It was then, that the stage rose off the ground.

It stopped when it was approximately a meter off the ground and simply hovered there. Dr Douglas only just realised that it was the red-head doing it - his hands were raised with his open palms directed down at the stage and a huge cheer erupted from the gathering of people as the stage remained in the same airborne position; it looked as though it took a considerable amount of effort on the red-haired leader's part, who's cheeks were reddening rapidly.

Dr Douglas could not help but watch.

[One week prior]

After reporting his information to Murphy, 32 was finally dismissed. He was led off to his own holding room, as he was as much a prisoner here as Campbell was. His, however, was a bit bigger. The door was reinforced, although he could still tear it from its hinges should he ever decide to. The room was filled wall to wall with lab equipment: an exam table, file cabinets, a couple computers, a small shower stall, a large tube shaped tank filled with mysterious, greenish fluid. And the centerpiece was a very frightening looking chair. It looked much like an electric chair, but made of metal. It sported cuffs on the arms and front legs for restrain, and a headpiece that looked like a helmet lined with nails. It had been wiped down many times, but there was the lightest hint of blood lingering here and there.

32 went and sat in the chair without even having to be told. The doctor in charge of his treatment came over with a clip board and sat down in front of him. "Subject: Experiment 32," The doctor said to himself as he wrote on the first form. "Your mission was a success, I've heard. Tell me, were you injured during this mission?"
"Yes."
"How so?"
"I was shot in the face."
"Care to show me where?"

32 lifted a hand to point to his lower right forehead, where the wound had long since healed. The doctors wrote on his paper and checked a few boxes. "Did you experience any effects of reset withdrawal this past week?"
"Yes."
"Explain."
"My head hurts." The doctor wrote and checked.
"Anything else?"
"I've been...having memories." 32 wasn't sure how to explain it. This whole procedure felt familiar; he'd done hundreds of times before. Yet he never remembered any of it. "I think it was my last mission. There was a man; he was important somehow. I had to make it look like an accident, so I forced him to swallow all of the sleeping pills he had on his dresser. He cried." 32 wasn't sure why that last part was significant; most of his targets cried.

The doctor wrote furiously. 'Subject remembering previous mission in vivid detail. Subject has gone past the recommended limit of time between resets. Signs of attitude change have been noted.' The older man looked up from his clipboard.
"Is there anything else?"
32 stared at him blankly.
"Okay then. The evaluation is over." He turned to the other scientists in the room and nodded to them as he stood. One came over and flipped a switch on the chair, making it hum to life. 32 tensed. All emotions had been beaten out of him, except for two: anger and fear. Anger to make him the ruthless killer he was, and fear to keep him under control. 32 remembered this chair, and he was afraid of it. However, he didn't dare budge from it.

The headpiece came on, the screw-like probes inside the helmet whirring. 32 trembled, his chest heaving with panic. Electricity buzzed off of them as they slowly lowered down on his head. The screws slowly drilled into his skull, through the skull, into his brain. The screams of agony that came from his mouth were practically inhuman. Blood trickled down his face as the treatment progressed for three full minutes, and then to electricity stopped. The screwed wound themselves out and the helmet rose off of his head. his short hair was wet with blood, his eyes wide and empty. 32 snapped back to reality when the scientists came back over to remove his restraints. His skull quickly began to heal, but his memory was fogged. Why was he in the chair? Had he defied orders? Had he failed a mission? He couldn't recall. It hurt to try and fight the fog inside his head, so he quickly gave up.

"Clean it up and give it its meal," Said one of the scientists in charge. The lower ranking white coats did so. One came over with a wet rag and wiped the blood off his face and head. Another came over with a bowl of what looked like greyish slop. 'No waste food', they called it. His body would use everything in it, seriously reducing the need to create bodily waste. From the way it tasted, it very much could have been bodily waste. But 32 was hungry, and the food was almost luke warm. He made short work of it, and gulped down the glass of water offered without questioning.

"Get it in the shower, then put it back to sleep." The head scientists said before leaving. The bowl was taken from 32 after he finished, and he was taken from the chair and led over to the shower stall. 32 stripped off his uniform and got in, the water cold. The blood that was missed from the wipe down tinted the water for a few moments before it ran clear again. 32 only stayed in long enough to wash off the sweat and grime from...whatever he had been doing before they reset him. Once he stepped out, he was taken to the tank of greenish fluid. They called it a 'stasis chamber'. It was where he slept.

32, although very capable of sleeping on his own, rarely ever did so. He was kept awake for days on end to complete missions, and then put into a medically induced coma in between activity to keep him from thinking too much outside of work. 32 held out his arm for the needle that held the sleeping agent. The moment it was injected, he could feel the effects starting to hit him. He managed to stay awake while monitors where attached to his chest, and a breathing mask to his face. He was then led up the steps to the top of the tube, where he slipped into the slimy substance. And there he slept: floating in green slime until someone else needed to be killed. His bionic heart glowed through the green substance in an almost surreal way.

=======================================================

[Current]

32 was awoken by the green slime being drained out around him. His eyes opened groggily to peer out of the glass. He was in a different room than before, but this one was also familiar. He couldn't remember why. Scientists in a different uniform came to get him out, and 32 considered fighting them. But then he saw his handler there, watching him being awoken. He then became completely passive, waiting for his next order like the good soldier he was.

Once out of the tank, 32's mask was removed, along with the monitors. He was ushered into yet another small shower stall where he washed off the green slime. When he came out, a scientist handed him his typical black uniform. 32 began to dress as his next mission was explained to him.

"Weapon-X has found yet another enemy to be taken down," Explained his handler. That jogged some memories. 32 was like the child of two divorced parents: he was shipped back and forth between Weapon-X and FOH whenever he was needed. "FBI agent Gary Stronghold visited our facility a day ago as part of routine inspect. However, it was rather unfortunate that he stumbled upon classified projects. He needs to be silenced, and it needs to look like an accident."

"Yes sir," 32 said as he finished pulled on his black field coat. He pulled his mask on over his head, followed by his goggles.

"This mission shouldn't take long. The target information has already been gathered. You will be briefed on it in the helicopter." His handler began to walk, and 32 followed behind him.

============================================

[Equipment tally:

Hand gun: 15 rounds
K31: 6 rounds
Two knives
Explosive]

The city lights shined beneath them like stars. If 32 had been a more poetic man, he may have cared. Instead, he was going over the mission in his head: the target lived in a condo on the 41st floor of a highrise building. The mission was to be in and out; as little damage as possible. He was to leave no trace, nothing to track, and no evidence that an assassination had actually occurred. He'd done it a hundred times.

The helicopter dropped him off on a rooftop a few blocks away, and 32 began to make his way towards the highrise. He was swift and agile as he moved from building to building, like a liquid blot of ink against the night sky. He had light gear on today: a hang gun, his K31, ammo, grappling gun, thermal imaging goggles, two combat knives, and a small explosive in case things really went south.

It wasn't long before 32 was across from the highrise and pulling out his goggles. He turned on the heat seeking function and zoomed in on the corner condo. It didn't look like there was much life in there; it was pretty late. Then, there in the bedroom, his target was laying in bed. He was propped up, probably watching TV. 32 put his goggles up and pulled his grappling gun off his back. He aimed steadily at a billboard on top of the building, then shot. The grappling flew across the way and locked on to catwalk of the sign perfectly. Having enhanced vision really did a guy good.

32 tugged on the line to test it, then clipped it to his belt before swinging over. His feet landed against the solid concrete, hard. Had he been a weaker man, he may have hurt himself. His boots absorbed most of the shock, and his legs could handle the rest. 32 began to scale his way to the top of the building. Once there, he unwrapped his grappling from the sign and continued on.

There was a door that led to the stairwell, most like meant for maintenance, but it was locked. 32 was able to fix that fairly quickly. He hurried down the steps before anyone could see him, getting out at the 41st floor. There were cameras in the halls. 32 took out another one of his little gadgets: a small signal scrambler. For just a few seconds, it would loop the image on any security cameras he walked by, and a few seconds was all he ever needed. With the device activated, 32 continued on. The door to the condo was a card-swipe access. He took only a moment to open up the lock and pull a wire loose, making it beep with approval. 32 carefully closed it back and let himself inside.

He was surprisingly quiet for a commando dressed in nearly 70 pounds of equipment. 32 silently snuck towards the bedroom, then paused outside the door. The target was watching the evening news, making several comments about the mutant protest that had gone on that day. 32 breathed in, then out, then bust in. His gun was already aimed when he came in the door.
"Hands up, don't move!" He barked. The agent jumped, but put his hands in the air. 32's eyes landed on the handgun on the bedside stand. He made his way closer, then quickly took it away.
"Alright buddy, what's this about?" The agent said coolly, trying to hide his genuine surprise. He'd been caught off guard and they both knew it. 32 didn't offer any answer. His gun remained aimed at the target's head as he silently observed the room: bed, bedstand, tv, dresser, picture of target with two other men, all dressed in military uniforms, shoes off in the corner, bathtub filling up in the bathroom, bottle of vodka on the nightstand- ah, there it was. 32 motioned to the bottle.
"Drink that," He said. The agent furrowed his brow, then laughed.
"Hey, if you wanted to get me drunk, you could have just taken me out." 32 did not find this joke amusing.
"Drink all of it."
"Are you fucking crazy?"
32 cocked his gun as an answer.

"Alright, alright, shit. I can't say it's the worst thing I've been told to do." The agent leaned over towards the bottle, then pulled a handgun out from under his pillow. He was quick, but it did him no good. The shot he landed right on 32's forehead didn't even phase the killer. He took a step back, then reached up in his mask to pull the bullet out. The agent raised an eyebrow.
"Mutant, huh?" He kept his gun raised.
"Shooting me will do no good," 32 said. "Now drink." The agent cursed something about mutants and picked up the bottle. He'd only had a couple shots of it tonight, and was still fairly stable. He knew what 32 was telling him to do would more than likely give him alcohol poisoning. That was more than likely the plan. The agent took his sweet time pouring himself a shot before knocking it back.
"Want any?" He dryly offered the shot glass. 32 didn't respond. "Not too friendly, are we," The man muttered. He went through a few more shots while 32 stood with a gun aimed at him, waiting for him to reach his limit. It wasn't too long. The drink was strong, and the agent had skipped dinner. Without thinking, he got up and hurried to the bathroom to puke. 32 stepped aside to allow it, then followed him in.

The agent hunkered over the toilet, puking his guts into it. When he was done, 32 grabbed him roughly by the back of the neck and forced him over to the bathtub. The man was too drunk to even fight back. 32 shoved the man's head under the water and held it there while the agent thrashed helplessly. He would have to make it look like the man got drunk and accidentally slipped under the water while taking a bath. He'd have to set up the scene once the man was dead. The bathtub was overflowing, and right now, there was evidence laying all over the bedroom: the fired gun, the tiny drops of blood on the carpet from 32 being shot, the bullet he'd been shot with...

The man finally stopped struggling. 32 held him under a bit longer for good measure, then pulled his limp body out. He shut off the water and was about to start undressing the man when he paused. He'd heard something out in the main room. He had company.

Once the scene ascended from the concrete, Kevin raised an eyebrow and brought his hand up to his chin and rubbed it gently. ‘Well, that’s an invitation to the cops.’ He thought. The more visual these things got, the more uncomfortable humans started to get. Eventually the police would come and clean up and that could lead to some violence. The alternative was an attack from the human side, though no matter who threw the first stone, the mutants would be the scape goats. The crowd were rather torn on the reactions as some cheered loudly while others wanted to disappear into their rain coats. Was this truly the message these mutants wanted to give? Kevin understood that if equality was going to be preached, why hide who they are in the process? But it was about being smart. This was just reckless, and one needed to take things slow with the mentally daft.

As the scene was starting to heat up, Kevin thought it a good idea to head away. He didn’t want to be present when gunpowder started to echo in the distance. As he started to move away, he tried to keep a distance from the thick of the crowd, moving past a few girls on the way. “Excuse me.” He spoke softly, moving between several people and eventually found his way out of the crowd. Good, he could breath now. Kevin had rented a room in the local motel as while he was looking for a home to buy. He hadn’t been in the city for long but he planned to stay for a while now that he had seen so much of the world. Traveling for nearly sixty years had left him dried out and lead to something he never thought would happen: the want to settle down. At least for a while, Kevin would enjoy the silence and stability of a single home instead of the every flowing motions of the road. He had seen the highest peaks of the Japanese mountains as he visited reserved temples in search of ancient knowledge. He had visited the deepest pits of the filthy arenas in the darkest, most unpleasant places he could imagine. From frozen tundras to the desert, Kevin had been everywhere and had the main goal not been developing his martial arts, he would have ended up learning several languages and cultures. Well, he had time. For now a warm home was the most pleasant of thoughts.

Once a respectable distance from the crowd, Kevin turned and walked behind a set of buildings and found himself in the darker parts of town with the cheapest motels around. The problem with having been so many places is usually that some of them follow you when you’re gone. Kevin learned this many years ago and thus expected it to happen again, but he could not tell the future. Luckily, his reflexes were honed enough to dodge the sudden blade appearing from the darkness, followed by several strikes. The martial artist dodged the blows and managed to manoeuvre behind his attacker and disarmed him before he delivered a powerful kick to the darkly clad man’s spine, sending him to the ground. “You’ve been a bad boy, Viper.” It had been quite a while since that title fell on Kevin. He turned to see another man clad in a black outfit, a sword sheathed on his back. To an untrained eye, they’d look like ninjas but Kevin had seen these uniforms before. They were special Hunters working for an organisation with rather unpleasant ilk.

“I was bad before you guys came around.” Kevin grinned and twirled the katana between his fingers. “But I must admit, the six months I spent in that shit hole put things into perspective. Humans are starting to piss me off.”

“Careful now.” His voice was cold, a perfect reflection of the man’s physical appearance . “You don’t want to put your kind in a bad position now would you? All those peaceful protests will have been for nothing.”

“You flatter me.” Kevin replied, the two keeping each other in sight as they walked slowly in a half circle. “Tell me, what kind of dog did you manage to create in a test tube from what you got from me?”

“Come and you’ll see.”

“Don’t tease me, you know I’m curious.” He raised his sword. “And tell the other three assholes to come out.” He didn’t break eye contact with his enemy but seemed to have noticed the other three soldiers hiding in the shadows. No guns on this mission? They really wanted to keep this as quiet as possible. They also knew of Kevin's mutation, thus they didn't attempt to poison him with sleeping darts. He wasn't making it very easy.

Rose watched the Asian man brush past, uttering "excuse me" as he did. Her forest-green eyes followed him as he moved away from the crowd and behind a set of buildings.
What the hell was he going over there for? She felt inclined to follow. Something in her gut was telling her something sketchy was going to happen. The man would probably get suspicious if he turned around to find a little cheerleader following him. She maneuvered to an empty alley way and took a deep breath. There wasn't much sunlight to work with but it was enough. She shut her eyes and reopened them. When she glanced down toward her body, she found nothing but the cement she had been stepping on. It was as if there was never a body to begin with. Just in case, she walked back into the public and gazed into a window. There was no reflection looking back at her. "Sweet." She whispered. Even after two years of playing with her power, she was still amazed by it.

She ran after him and kept a careful distance behind him.
Rose rounded a corner in time to hear, “You’ve been a bad boy, Viper." Well that was certainly an interesting name. There were two others with "Viper" dressed up much like the ninjas she had seen in the shows her brother had used to watch. She had no idea what they were talking about as the two of them went back and forth but she managed to get that Viper was definitely a mutant and those two were up to no good. She let her gaze fixate on the shadows, spotting the other three guys the man was talking about. It was pretty easy for Rose to see them. She could always see things better in the dark ever since her ability starting making an appearance in her life.

Rosaline was out of her league here. The smart move would be to get out of here and go home. Then again, maybe leaving this guy to fight five others was not the best idea. She glanced at the Asian again and rethought that. He seemed pretty capable and kicking all of their asses. The man didn't seem discouraged at all.

Alexis watched amazed to the floating stage, he had not seem many other mutants so this was a nice treat.
Still he felt it was better to get away from there before the cops would show.
He shifted to his silver shape once more, also in order to stay dry of the rain and started to jump from roof to roof again, slipping in a puddle, he barely got himself stable on a ledge, Ryu sighed from relieve and went back to standing straight up, not realizing the he was standing under a large sign.
Knocking his head on the sign he lost his balance and cursed the water puddles for being so slippery as he fall of the ledge.
Ryu looked down to see a car underneath him and cursed a bit more at his luck of the day.
Closing his eyes Ryu focused, the silver colored mass started to shift, set out, turn hard and transparent while at the same time the structure prevented anyone else to see what was under the crystal, under the diamond.
Ryu had stopped moving and crashed slam hard onto the car.
He heard the hood bend and crash under his weight, he heard the engine hitting the ground and getting crushed, even hearing the gasoline getting forced out of the engine and hitting the damaged hood under him, he heard a dog bark out of fright and immediately he thought that the dog was in the car, he had not seen one when he looked down and he did not think far enough to take in that it might have been out of sight or walked close during his diamond shaping and falling.
He kept laying on the hood for a few second waiting for it to explode, but it did not as it seemed, luck.
Ryu finally took a gasp of air as his shape turned back to silver, he knew it had all happened in seconds but it did felt like minutes.
Slowly he got up, dizzy, he cursed a little in his head, his gaze was fuzzy, was it the smoke, would this thing still blow up, no... it was not smoke, his visor was solid, must be his head
diamond might take heave hits without hurting his body but he guessed his head would not take it as easy from a high drop like that, he just hoped it was just a little shock and not a concussion.
shortly after his sight returned and he looked at a woman, she looked familiar and then he remembered having seen her on the hood of an other car.
He tried to get up and run again, but fall down again, still being dizzy from the drop.
"god dammit"

(btw, he never seen that website XD)

Ally walked at a leisurely pace round the side of the town square. On occasions she nipped into one of the regular side streets, easily pulling up the shadows as cover as the police walked past. There seemed to be so many on patrol today, but she guessed with the mutant activists out they had a good reason to. Usually the police didn't bother her, she had never once been caught for her activities and never even questioned, but with her plans tonight taking place so soon she couldn't help bit feel nervy upon spotting them.

As she made it to the other end of the square she glanced back at the ever growing crowd of supporters momentarily drawn towards their views and ideals. It was strange how they were so willing to stand there out in the open and protest against the common view, it took courage and although half probably didn't understand the true meaning behind the act it was still nice to see people were out supporting the minorities side.

She didn't risk staring to long though as she had a job to do. Her gaze returned to the little computer shop just down the street, that was newest target. Usually she did her jobs in the dead of night in the hopes of minimising the risks and optimising her abilities. But she was keen to get back online and finish her search, she felt o close to a revelation but just didn't know what. However to do so she needed the WiFi at the local café and that didn't stay open all hours and she couldn't risk holding onto stolen goods for to long.

As an uproar rose from the crowd she diverted her attention back to the square, watching with a mix of surprise and horror as the stage lifted from the ground. She stood there frozen, for a moment contemplating whether to rush over - keen to find the person behind it - but at the same time it gave her the perfect distraction to finally grab the laptop. She was torn between her heart and her head, but eventually her head won out and she ducked into the shop hearing the small chime of the welcome bell and already silently cursing at the fact. Nothing could ever be easy for her...

Tony saw the red head cause the stage to float and shook her head, that was simply a foolish display of power. She stood up and spotted Kevin as he passed by the bar, towards the darker part of town. Tony didn't know why but he looked as if he was sneaking, she quickly and fluidly made her exit from the establishment. As she exited the bar she grabbed a brown bottle of booze, she wasn't going to drink it she didn't drink. Tony stepped onto the hard cold black street, her demeanor changed a slouching stature she stumbled a bit staggering forward. To anyone who may have seen her she would appear highly intoxicated. She staggered to the corner of the building and leaned heavily on it, the brown bottle clasped with in her left hand.

Tony made for the alley, she wasn't aware of the young teenagers presence. However she heard the exchange of words between the men, from what she could gather it was a group of five to six combatants. She stumbled into the group and looked at the man in the ninja outfit, it was a attire she hadn't seen sense her days as a youngling in the monastery in which she was raised. She gave a goofy smile her short snow white hair stopping above her ears, she stood there and looked at the group of men and wobbled as she did so. She addressed the apparent leader of the group of ninja suit clad men, "You seem to be causing a disturbance, you should leave now or else someone might get hurt." She purposely slurred her words and stumbled a bit over her own feet, but it appeared 100% authentic.

Tony had gripped the bottle with her left hand by the neck, near the opening on the bottle. She looked at them and hoped they would leave peacefully, she said nothing other then that and continued her occasional stagger and wobble. She was formulating a plot in her head, and knew the style she would use if she needed to take the group down.

As Elena lowered the cup from her lips her eyes finally caught the man move quickly away from the shop and into the crowd. It startled her, but she thought nothing of it. She was thinking just waiting for Julian by her bike, but then the sky opened up upon them and began to release all of its sorrows upon them. The water droplets hit her making her sigh, Elena felt herself become rejuvenated and alert now. Her senses were heightened, she was energized, this was her element and she loved it.

All of a sudden she felt like taking a run, and was about to do so when a loud sound echoed in her ears and the crowd’s noise reached a painful level for her. With her senses heightened she removed her glasses and was able to see the stage clearly begin to rise out of the ground and into the sky. The red headed guy was doing it. “Fucking serious?” A protest is one thing but a mutant demonstration would quickly get law enforcement attention. It wouldn’t be long before they all got the idea to use their abilities. Julian. She spotted him in the crowd; he and his friends were talking as if they were forming a plan. She sighed and slipped her water bottle into her bag and started the walk towards the crowd.

She thought it would be easy to navigate towards him, but in the intensity of everyone there was a lot of movement going on, people not listening to her pleas to let her move on her way, and she was soon knocked forwards, backwards completely involuntary. Julian was no longer in sight, and she found herself pushed all the way to the other side of the protest and throw out onto the wet concrete.