Abigail "Rabbit" O'Reilly

When Emilio left and didn’t respond to what she’d said, Rabbit pulled her pad out and tried to write down a note for a sober time, about how the man may hold a grudge against her. It was problematic to type while drunk, but she managed to get the important parts down. She saved it and put the pad away. At least he was one of those she’d made a plan for early on, so it wasn’t like she’d need to do any of the extra work.

“Large water, please.” She said, after looking at her empty glass. The bartender gave her the order, and she drank it as fast as she’d drunk the whiskey. She’d desperately need a toilet pretty soon she figured, but stayed in her seat, playing with the glass.

She heard Emilio call out to her and Nick, since apparently she couldn’t get one night off to drink. She needed to be constantly alert. Rabbit turned to see a table get thrown in her direction, but didn’t flinch or duck out of the way before Emilio caught it.

“Oh real nice. Now we’re throwing tables?” She shook her head, and squinted to get a clear view of whomever it was that had thrown it in her direction. It was that large dumbass skull. Fucking scots, man. Well, at least they knew how to make good music.

Rabbit dropped her whiskey glass on the floor, then stomped it into pieces which she teleported into the larger water glass. She threw the larger glass towards a wall, but before it smashed into pieces as well she teleported it on a collision course with the Skull’s face, rotating it so that shards inside would fly into his eyes.

She fell backwards off her own chair, but disappeared before she hit the floor, reappearing in a standing position some distance behind the Skull. It was intentional, as she would be able to hint to Emilio and Whisper without him noticing.

Rabbit made a motion towards the window of Club 76, with her hand she created a teleportation warp for a short moment, trying to tell them that she could throw him outside. It wouldn’t even need to damage the window.

“You know, spare us the repair bill.”

Umi “The Ghouls” Ichikawa

She made it into East Rail, no problem, as most would avoid anyone walking around at night clearly looking to start trouble. Umi wasn’t the one they avoided. It was the two replicas walking side by side in the middle of the street, acting too confident for any normal lowlife. She’d replaced them a number of times to conserve energy, and once she had crossed from the western to the eastern she’d spawned two instead of one.

The Ghouls, as some called her under the misgiving that they were several, had kept eyes on the druggies and the drug trade for as long as anyone could remember. They robbed drug dealers, and that was what she had come today tonight too. She knew most of the players, where they sold and in some cases even to whom they sold it too.
The replicas pulled their hoods up over their faces when they got closer to some people selling on a street corner. Umi only saw three people slinging, so she felt no need to create more replicas unless the first couple failed. She remained on the other side of the street, while the replicas walked up to the drug dealers. It escalated as planned, with one of her clones pointing the shotgun in the face of the main guy, and the other pointing her shotgun at the group in general in case of sudden movements. Umi was the backup. The only backup anyone would need against humans without powers.

She knew what her clones said, and heard the responses. It didn’t take long before she’d gotten the drugs, the money and whatever else the three men had on them. Unfortunately, it didn’t go exactly as planned as one of them pulled a gun and shot one of the replicas. She felt it, suspected it was fatal and destroyed that one.

The second replica fired at the man without hesitation. He went down, but the other two did nothing. They seemed more shocked at the disappearance of someone right in front of them. Umi hadn’t meant to kill the man, but if no one would help him he might bleed out anyway. She sent a new replica over to them to gather up what the destroyed one had dropped. Soon, they walked out of there without any arguments.

Ivan and Dr.Wright

"Sparingly," Dr.Wright replied to the Dreadnaught comment. Ivan had mentioned them before, but he seemed to be a little...hesitant to talk about the private military company, and so Wright never really asked "No, he's not a geneticist. He's a nuclear chemistry professor. We just happened to meet not long ago." As the waitress walked off to get Ivan another beer, he looked up and remembered that he was in the middle of a conversation.

"Yeah. The departments were working together on a metahuman case." Ivan said mundanely as the third beer arrived.

"It was really quite interesting." Wright began "There was a meta who was causing things that they touched to explode, and we managed to isolate the gene that caused the issue and Ivan invented a spray-on chemical that with the genome reconstruction nullifies the power so well that they can now touch things and not worrying about them exploding. It was the first time that a process like that one had ever been achieved. We won several awards a-"

"Engine run-on again, Toby." Ivan said, turning to Baron "If the Skulls and the Vanguard are about to throw down, then it's going to get bad. Think Levant, but with superpowers."

Skeleton

Skeleton eyes Reiko and listened intently. Her words were true, there were others that could do the job better, but she was one of the strongest metas around and Titus was still missing (Damian claimed that he had no idea where the lug went off to, but Skeleton highly doubted that). Reiko would be the best choice, and he doubted a blind woman would be able to put her in enough mortal peril to cause her any kind of long-term harm. Damian walked across the bar and stopped next to Skeleton, finally getting a good look at the challenger.

"You sure about this?" Damian whispered "I don't like the smugness of this chick."

"Absolutely certain." Skeleton replied " I think you're the best choice for this, Reiko, and I trust you the most. We need to give miss...what'd you say your name was?" Damian rolled his eyes and, walking to the other side of Skeleton, patted Reiko on the shoulder and whispered in her ear "Don't worry. You know me and Skully will keep you safe."

The Vanguard v. Titus

Luckily enough, Titus turned his head to look at Cass' antics just in time for Rabbit's bottle to collide with the side of his head. He released a barbaric yelp as the shards of glass sliced his flesh like razorblades, and felt the hot blood roll down his face. He swung at Whisper, and she rolled out of the way. His fist kept going and it crashed through a wall, leaving a massive dent the size of a Christmas ham. Emilio fired a strand of yellowish venom and hit Titus square between the eyes. The venom burned and Titus' skin became discolored as the venom killed his skin cells. By this time, his head had finished repairing itself, and he swung a bar stool at Emilio. Emilio grabbed the stool and, getting a firm grip on it, wrenched it from Titus' hands, tearing the base of the stool off in the process. He then persisted to smash Titus in the face with the barstool seat, sending the large man stumbling backwards. Titus kicked hard at Emilio, and just barely grazed the reptilian man's shoulder. Emilio stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, doubled over in pain as the flesh of his arm instantly bruised. He felt his arm, but there was no bone breakage. He was a lucky bastard. Whisper rematerialized and kicked Titus in the back of the head. He fell through the bar's glass double doors and stumbled into the hallway, where he fell on Johnny, killing him instantly. All that remained was a pair of star-shaped sunglasses. Titus turned around to find a blade in his face. He cried out as Whisper sliced his left eye clean in two, and crashed into the wall, his eye gushing blood. Passersby ran for their lives to the stairs, knowing that the elevators would be too slow to let them escape.

...The elevator. There was an idea. Whisper looked over at Emilio, and then at the elevator. Emilio, in exchange, looked to Nick.

"Nick!" he yelled "The elevator doors! Can you open them?" Taylor, meanwhile, darted under the bar counter, where she sat holding her knees against her chest and listening to the fight.

---

Tara twisted and twirled through the crowds, attempting to hide herself from Samson, who was in hot pursuit (pardon the pun). She crossed the street and dodged a roaring taxi before turning down a side alley and pulling a small contraption out of her pocket. It was a black rectangle, about three inches long and two wide, with a tripwire bundled around it like a cord. She quickly unstrung the tripwire and attached it to the alley walls with suction cups before covering the box with a few pieces of trash. If the wire was tripped (it was very thin and hard to see), the box would explode and throw a smoke cloud into the air, thick enough to blind even the most highly-trained hunter. She set the machine up and then took off down the alley, the soles of her shoes glowing as she ran supernaturally fast towards the street and then turned right towards the parking garage next to the art museum.

Antonio “Gemini” Fierro


Of all the damn days Mercedes had to work late, it had to be today.

Laid out on the living room couch in a lazy manner, Tony Fierro glared hard at the old television against the wall, as his grandmothers telenovela’s played out on the screen. Every few seconds past the dramatic spanish screaming, he could hear the soft clinking of his grandmothers spoon hitting the bottom of the bowl, weakly trying to fish out the remaining noodles in the sea of broth. This was soon followed by loud, and slow slurping as she eventually brought the spoon to her lips. The tiny woman was sunken in the cushion of the oversized chair, comfortably nestled into the soft seat while quilts and blankets covered her legs and shoulders.

With age, his grandmother lost weight and grown weak. The optimistic, powerhouse of a woman who had raised him and his sister was now a frail, tender old lady. It was almost strange to see his grandmother like this; covered in a mess of wrinkles, and sagging skin. She had withered away before his very eyes in a matter of years, and now, after taking care of so many for so long, she was now the one who needed to be cared for. Of course, when Mercy wasn’t home, this became his responsibility. Not that it was a problem for him. The gang didn’t seem to mind either, considering who his grandmother was and what she had done for them over years. Tony knew to appreciate the time he had with her as well, his grandma wasn’t getting any younger, or healthier, for that matter.

Unfortunately, if it had been any other day Tony would have been happy to watch over his Nana, but Mercy with her perfect timing as always, just had to work over-time on the day of Matt’s promotion. Since late afternoon he had been receiving messages on his phone from other Skulls. Pictures of them drinking, sharing joints, and partying. An here he was, laying on the couch, and watching telenovela's with his grandma.

After a while he soon found himself staring at the catclock just above the television, his eyes watching the long hand tick clockwise as the cats black eyes flicked back and forth in beat with the ticking. His lips slowly began to curve into a scowl as he watched the cat. It’s eyes looking back and forth, with the coy smile on it’s face—it almost felt like the little fucker was mocking him. Dramatically squirming on the couch in discomfort, his ever noisy grumbling continued as he pulled out his phone and began to furiously tap his thumbs along the screen.

[‘Are you off work yet?’] Sending his sister the text, he began to look through his inbox, deleting messages with a few taps along the screen and a frustrated grunt. If he wasn’t going to get to experience the celebration himself, then he was going to simply deny its existence for the time being.

Annoyed, and bored out of his mind, Tony lifted his left leg into the air, and as he brought it down with a heavy swing, he sat himself up along the couch with grunt. A cigarette, or a joint was sounding pretty good right about now. Pushing off the cushion and walking across the wooden floor, he stepped beside his grandmothers chair and eyed her empty plates along her food trey, “You all done, Nana?” Placing a gentle hand along the older woman’s shoulder, he watched her slowly turn her head up as clouded, grey eyes narrowed happily in his direction. In a heavy spanish accent, Dolores smiled softly as her bony hands raised up out of the covers, lightly shaking as they reached out and took Tony’s hand weakly, “Si mijo,” She answered, patting his hand softly in assurance before she returned them to her lap back beneath the sheets, “Your cooking gets better every time I eat it.” She spoke in a raspy voice, rough like an old smoker. Still, despite the gravelly tone, he couldn’t help but blush lightly at the compliment before letting a small smile creep along his face, “Thanks, Nana.”

What his grandmother didn’t know was that rather then making the food from scratch, like he had boasted to her, Mercy had actually been leaving him a list of ingredients for the night supper. A cheat sheet really, but he was still the one cooking the meals. Setting the dishes down in the sink, he rinsed them out with water and left them sitting their. Mercedes could deal with those. He saw that it was was only fair, seeing as he had taken care of their grandmother all day.

From the kitchen, he bee-lined to the front door, stopping briefly to put on his shoes and jacket before he called down the hallway, “I’m gonna step outside for a smoke.” Receiving a, “Que cochino.” from his grandmother in the other room, he gave a light chuckle before stepping out the front door and onto the porch. The cold fall air stung at his face, while the soft drizzling of rain filled his ears. Taking a deep breath and filling his lungs with the freezing air, he dug a hand into his back pocket and brought a pack of marlboro reds. Pulling out a single cigarette and returning the pack to his pocket, he was just about to light his cigarette when two gun shots echoed throughout the neighborhood.

His reflexes kicked in almost immediately as he dropped to a crouch along his front porch, eyes wide and searching desperately for the source of the gun shots. “Qué fue eso?” His grandmothers sudden voice caused him to jump lightly, causing his cigarette to fall from his lips and into a puddle along the stairs. This earned a frustrated sigh from the boy as he mentally kicked himself for getting so startled. Staying low still and quiet, rather then answering his grandma back immediately, he peaked through the fence posts and focused on the street ahead. Searching for any suspicious activity, his eyes widened suddenly as he saw two figures at the end of the street sprint across the crosswalk and out of sight. ‘What?—‘

“Antonio!” His body seized again, jerking from his position as his grandma yelled his name. With an exasperated sigh he leaned into the door, peaking his head in at the bottom as he continued to crouch along the porch, “Ah.. E-está Bien.” He said hesitantly, as he was unsure of his spanish seeing as he wasn’t as fluent as his sister, or grandma were. “Wasn’t anything to worry about,” Reaching in quickly, he snatched his keys off the nightstand next to the door, "I’m gonna head back out to smoke, now. Be right back.” Eyeing the street behind him, he closed the door behind him a soft click and made sure to lock it before he bounded down the stairs of the town-house and onto the sidewalk.

Going into a possible dangerous situation with no powers equipped, Tony knew he was risking it. All he had on him was his switchblade, but he knew that could only do so much against a meta. Coming to the end of the street, he slowly peaked around the corner. Considering how much noise the gun fire had caused he would have assumed the shooters had fled the scene just as soon as things went down, but one could never be too cautious. Besides, it wasn’t like he was looking to become their next target. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he stepped out from behind a fence and turned right. Heading down the block, he caught sight of the street sign just as he turned down another sidewalk. This was Haber street.



His caution high, Tony’s steps began to slow as he caught sight of a man laying on the concrete. Like a spot light, a single working lamp post shined down on him, its bright rays making him stand out even through the rain. Drawing closer, his eyes widened as he realized who the injured man along the floor was. His name was Dennis Fern, a guy maybe a few years older then him who had started dealing in this part of town recently. He wasn’t a bad dude, a bit of a tweaker, but who wasn’t in these parts?

Dennis clutched his stomach and wriggled around in pain on the ground. His sobbing was muffled by the blood gurgling in his throat and spilling down his lips, only adding onto more to the morbid scene. The dark liquid was already pooling beneath him, leaving a long, shimmering trail down into the gutter. The rain would carry most of it away, but there was sure to be a stain here tomorrow. Taking a knee next to him with utmost caution, Tony licked his lips anxiously as he looked over the large wound. A fist sized chunk of meat was displaced from Dennis' lower torso, and by the smaller holes surrounding the cavity he could tell it was caused by a shotgun. Judging by the size and damage, the poor bastard had probably taken the shot at close range too.

Gently, Tony slid a gloved hand beneath the dying mans head, lifting him slightly so his back leaned against his leg. Snot dribbled from his nose while blood continued to spill, his body was shaking uncontrollably, most likely from shock. It didn’t look like he was going to make it. “Shh, it’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay.” His comforting did nothing for the other as he continued to stare up at him with wide, terrified eyes. A chill ran down his back now, and it wasn’t from the temperature, or rain; It was like he could almost feel this mans life slipping away. As Dennis gasped for breath through his sob, Tony pushed past his own thoughts and finally spoke, his voice clear, and firm for the other man to hear, “Tell me, who did this to you?”

The muscles along the other mans throat flexed with each gasp, “..Gir..girls.” He gurgled out before falling into a coughing fit, wheezing heavily in his arms. Tony tried to comfort him with a small hush, but it was to no avail — If only he had access to his sisters powers right now. “Girls?” He repeated to himself before continuing, “What did they look like?”

The other mans eyes began to move about unfocused, his breathing growing weaker with each breath. “Hey, come on, stay with me.” He gave the man a light shake, forcing him awake long enough to focus on his question, “Tell me, what did they look like?” Eyes glossed like marbles, and skin as white as a ghost, Dennis whispered out two last words in his final breaths, “..The same..”

Tony’s eyes were wide with confusion and shock. What did he mean by they looked 'the same?’ Were they twins, or did they look alike? Maybe they dressed the same? However there was no way to get any more answers now. Dennis was as limp as a rag doll, and his face had softened into a peaceful expression. A tight feeling knotted in Tonys chest as he stared down at the other man. He had never had someone die in his arms before. It was sad, and almost to surreal for him to comprehend. But as the other man stared blankly up at him, unmoving and silent, Tony had to accept the reality of the situation.

“Goodnight, man.” With a gentle hand he closed his eyes and laid him down along the concrete. It felt wrong to just leave him there, but as police sirens came from a few streets over, he was quick to head back down the street and take out his phone to alert the others.

[“Murder on East Rail. Two blocks from Haber Street. Could be Ghouls .”] Sending out the message to Damian, he tucked the phone back into his jeans before looking over his shoulder at the body once again. Even if it wasn’t Skull related, something this close to the headquarters always meant bad news in the long run. Turning down the corner, he tried to hurry before the police arrived and tried to place the blame on him. Pulling out his cigarettes once again, he placed one between his lips and held a hand over his lighter, blocking out any rain from snuffing it out. Tugging at the collar of his leather jacket to cover his face as he hurried down the side walk, he tucked his lighter away and exhaled a heavy breath of smoke. Keeping his head low and a weary eye out for anyone or anything suspicious, he made his way back to home to wait for his sister, and if any further instructions came from the text message he had sent out.

Samson Isiah Jeross.

Dammit. Samson lost sight of the girl in the hood. He had a question that desperately needs answering, and she was the only person who could answer it. And he is determined. When that happens, there ain't anything that can stop him. The horn of a taxi certainly gave away Tara's position. He turned his head and spotted her right across the street, diving into a side alley but Samson already saw her. Crap. He could lose her... Unless he picked up the pace. Samson immediately rushed down the alleyway, his fists were balled just in case he ran into anything. By the time he got into the alleyway, he saw the girl running so fast it put Usain Bolt to shame. As he ran down the alleyway, he put his hand straight out, trying to call out to her, "Hey, I-" He was cut off when he noticed the tripwire tug against his foot. Well, shit. He didn't know what the hell he just activated. "... Fuck!" His life flashed before his eyes as he expected it to be a bomb. But it was nothing but a smoke bomb. Jesus, he felt relieved! But he was coughing violently, and he used his hand to try to push the smoke away. Where the hell did the Skulls get this kind of gear? This is something that the Vanguard would use... Maybe this chick was stealing some Vanguard gear for the Skulls. Which made it even more important to catch this chick before she does anything.

It was time to throw subtly out the window, that chick was fast and there was no way he could catch her on foot. He sprinted before he jumped high up into the air, as he ascended, he was wrapped in a glorious flaming aura. Samson had to catch up with Tara, and fast. He darted through the air like a missile, gunning for Tara's booty. He didn't notice this, but it looks like the trail he was leaving behind was made of feathers....

Reiko Silas Ain.

What made Reiko even more irritable was the fact that she was being used as a stand-in for Titus. Because just because she can regenerate, that makes her the punching bag for any new recruit. What kind of foolishness is that? She was a Huntress, shoulders above these young, drunken, fools. Reiko couldn't help but roll her eyes up into her head, close them for a second, then shake her head. "... Remind me to eat that fool." She muttered underneath her breath. She wished that she had her wine. But whatever. This Mia woman seemed confident... Strange confidence was always something she was wary of. For everyone has a reason to be confident. Even that fool Titus had a reason - Even though he can't use that reason worth shit. Though, Mia's cocky attitude annoyed the elegant Reiko. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad making this girl fear the name Lady Wolf.

Damian, the one foolhardy one that Skeleton has employed, patted her on the shoulder and whispered into her ear. Telling her they'll keep her safe. Hmph, she didn't last this long by being easy to kill. She was fairly certain that she could hold her own against this woman. "What me, worry? I never do." Her hand was mostly healed at this point. Though, her hand reeked of fine wine and blood. And she's about to get even more blood on them...

Reiko twisted her face into a frown when Mia held the door open for her - She thought she was being cute, wasn't she? "Why thank you..." She said dryly, rolling her eyes again and stepping out the door. Just like they said, she walked out in the middle of the street. She faced Mia and slowly lifted her feet out of her boots and kicked one over with her heel. These boots wouldn't be helping her now. Reiko stared directly at Mia, her eyes were narrowed towards the woman. She knew that if she transformed into a beast, there would be no hope for Mia - But she digressed. Revealing her true form for such an significant fight? That wasn't worth the drawbacks. Reiko's apex predator form would have to suffice for now.

Here they are. In the City of fool's Gold... Ready to spill blood for it's amusement.

A loud growl came out of her mouth, getting muffed by her hands. She hunched over, and over, until she got on one knee, slamming her palm against the concrete. The same hand grew long, jagged, claws, almost like knives made out of bone. Her other hand grew the same exact claws, before her feet grew shorter claws. A massive pair of wings had erupted from her back in a splash of blood, which was immediately corrected by her regeneration. Wings that were similar in shape to bats (They even had twitching fingers at the end), but they were twice as large as her body. A thick tail sprouted from behind her, right above her waist. It was almost as thick as her arm, but had a spear-like blade at the end. Finally, Reiko's teeth elongated until they were all like a shark's. Every one of these teeth were on full display, as her cheek-skin, and lips, shed, until everyone could see her inhuman teeth.

Reiko was ready as she'll ever be. But she was taking the defensive until she knows what Mia is capable of. It would be stupid to blindly rush at her. She loudly roared, it didn't sound bestial, it sounded deeper but definitely the kind of roar a woman would make. All in an attempt to get everyone's attention....

Mia Jones

“You're welcome.” Mia replied wearily. She felt the wind brush against her skin as Reiko exited out the door, and with it, the wafting scent of blood and wine. Her senses were not so finely attuned as her adversary's – that fact unbeknown to her – but these were powerful odors. The smell of the blood reminded her of its metallic taste from this morning, the wine, of the years she spent her life hiding inside a bottle of spirits and vintages. Both memories were quite... grounding. Sobering. They acted as reminders for why she was here.

She didn't really care how important or respected this Reiko woman was. She won't receive any mercy from Mia. As far as Mia was concerned, she was never given any mercy. The city was merciless – the world was merciless – if enacting vengeance made her the representation of that simple truth, then so be it.

The blind woman followed the huntress close behind, feeling around with her cane. Between bumping into the boots of Skull members and laden bricks or motorcycles, it guided her to the center of the street reliably. The whooping and howling of gangsters surrounded them, but it did not detract from her focus. Mia heard the thumps of leather not so far off. Reiko was taking something off. Mia let go of her cane and let it fall clumsily by her side. The sounds that followed were... disturbing, to say the least. Ripping flesh and liquid hit the ground in what sounded to be a sopping mess. The smell of blood flooded her nose. Grinding could be heard by the pavement. A vicious roar emanated from her location.

Something bestial.

Reiko was just an animal, then. An animal waiting to be put down. What a pity. But she had to be careful nonetheless. Animals were simple, but they weren't anything like people. She shouldn't hold back. Mia raised her arms to frame her body, her hands were clenched into fists and were set on either side of her head as she fell into form. A hybrid stance: elements of boxing and Israeli martial arts were both present. Her eyelids fell half-closed as she reached out all around her with her other senses.

The breathing, the panting of the beast. Just ahead. Mia would wait... wait for the beast to become impatient, or to find an “opportunity”. Only then would she strike – like a snake.

_______________

Baron Moreau

“Oh,” Baron said absentmindedly, “good.”

Really, that was all that mattered. As long as Ivan didn't talk too much about the company, no harm. But there was still the issue that Ivan made a connection that can be used against him. That was one thing Baron learned in America del Sur: if there are people that know you, they will be used against you. Ivan is no longer acquainted with the Deadnaughts, but he is still a connection to them and possesses information. As long as the company didn't make any dangerous enemies, he should be safe. If not, well... he can only hope the explosives expert could make a convincing lie on the spot.

It was something of an art, deception. You had to weave in just enough truth to make it believable, and direct them the wrong way with suggestions. Filler information.

Anyways, Tobias' research and experiments really were quite interesting. They were not in his own field of expertise, but he could identify the talent and skill required. And manipulating a power through medicine... who would have thought? A gene. A gene caused all this. A gene created supernatural abilities in mortal men and women. What science could justify that? They isolated the gene, but could they remove it? Mitigate it? If some extremist got their hands on Tobias' research, they could probably learn how to identify and interact with the gene. Perhaps cause it to swell and make the meta-human powers more potent.

Baron sighed. It had to have been a matter of time until one man's good intentions became another man's super weapon.

But these were not thoughts that Baron has time to express to the doctor, and were silenced by Ivan's insistence on dealing with gang matters.

“Rural areas of Levant were fairly nice,” Baron admitted, “just as you stay out of the war-torn suburbans. The people I've met were very genuine and have a rich culture. One man there gave me a free nose piercing that I never plan to reopen again.”

Baron momentarily seemed to be lost in thought as he reminisced about the eastern Mediterranean region. “Granted, Grit eventually blew my cover and, wouldn't you know, an Al-Qaeda patrol was just around the corner. Just barely talked myself out of that one. Anyway, I'm sorry Ivan. I hate to do this to you – I really do – I just don't think I want to play a part in any gang wars. That sort of thing I get paid to do, and I'm on vacation.”

He reached into his pocket and procured a pack of cigarettes, the butt of which he smacked against the palm of his hand a couple times.

“You understand, right?”

Nickolas Slater

And now everything went to shit. Nick turned around in his chair, and reclined against the bar with his beer in his hand. He watched Taylor dive under the bar as the Vanguard jumped on Titus like white on rice. It was quite a fustercluck. Nick overall didn't care too much, he was at this point making the best of a bad situation by cheering them on and simply enjoying the fight. What a bangarang this was! He winced as the bottle contacted with Titus' face and made an audible "Ouch! That's gotta hurt!" as Whisper went to work of his face. He didn't know how to feel about Johnny, he looked like he would live or something. He wasn't very good at measuring how dead people were. But from his standpoint he looked pretty dead. He didn't really know him, oh well. No major loss...?

Then the fun had to end when both Whisper and Emilio looked at him for assistance. "Hell naw, I'm not gettin' in on that shit." he said, taking another drink of his beer, before listed to exactly what they wanted of him. Oh, to throw him in the elevator. Well that'd be easy enough he supposed. He looked to the crumpled bar stool on the ground, and with his power lifted it from the ground, and then sent it in Titus' direction. The legs of the bar stool wrapping around the big man's torso, keeping his arms firmly trapped against his sides. Nick grunted for a moment in concentration and lifted his arm up to direct the added weight he couldn't control more thoroughly. He lifted Titus off the ground using the bar stood cage thing had had made, then nodded his head sideways and caused the elevator to groan for a moment before the elevator doors were forced open. He then grunted again and threw Titus into the elevator, once again using the bar stood cage thing as a base of movement, and shut the doors. He then dropped his concentration on Titus, causing a loud clang sound to go off inside the elevator as Titus' feel, and then Nick grabbed one of the beer bottle caps and then controlled it, crumpling it into a little ball and sending it in the direction of the elevator, where it hit the down arrow.

"Fuckin' done." he said, taking another quick drink of the beer and then setting it down, before clapping his hands at everyone involved. "That was pretty damn fun to watch if I do say so myself!" he commented, a big stupid lovable grin plastered to his face.

---

Matthew Evans

WIP

Titus, Whisper, and Emilio

Titus, caught off guard by the sudden attack of the angry bar stools, flew through the air, through the glass storefront of the bar, and was sent sailing into the elevator shaft. He plummeted ten floors before crashing through the roof of the elevator. He hit the elevator floor with a loud "bang!" that echoed through the elevator shaft and laid still, a puddle of blood forming in the dent he made in the floor. He groaned and muttered something inaudible with a broken jaw before the elevator began to go down. Luckily, no one was inside. Emilio walked over to the edge of the shaft and, looking down, shouted "Team Rocket's blasting off again!" Whisper appeared next to him a moment later.

"You're an ass." she said, smirking.

"The one and only." he replied. Emilio turned back towards the bar and walked up to the counter, where he shouted "all clear!" The manager exited the kitchen first, gun in hand.

"So sorry about the damage." Emilio said "We will, of course, pay for its repair in full." The manager scowled and leveled the gun at Emilio's chest.

"I have called the police." the manager said "Now get the hell out of my restaurant." Emilio frowned.

"Now why would you do that?" Emilio replied "We had the situation under con-"

"Out. Now." The manager said. The bartender gasped as Whisper appeared behind the manager, knife in hand.

"Very well." Emilio said. Whisper drove down with the knife and cut the barrel of the gun off before grabbing the manager by the back of his head and shoving him into the marble barcounter. He groaned and fell to the ground, a large gash on his forehead that trickled blood onto the floor. She climbed up onto the bar counter.

"Lets go." she said "We're not welcome here anymore." Whisper vanished once more and drifted towards the door in a cloud of smoke. Taylor got up from under the bar counter and looked around cautiously. It seemed safe now, so she began to make her way towards the door, looking over her shoulder for attackers. She was getting the hell out of here and back home where there weren't killer monsters sitting all around her. Maybe she'd head to Jazzy's and get some coffee; they made great cappucinos, she heard. She walked over to the elevators and hit the up button on the one that wasn't currently occupied by a badly-damaged bullet monkey.

Ivan and Dr.Wright

Ivan shifted in his seat and took a long drink of his beer as Baron spoke. He placed the beer back on the counter with a definitive "clunk" and rested his hands steepled on the table, as if he were in thought. Baron wasn't sorry for anything, and Ivan wasn't quite sure why he was. It wasn't like he asked Baron to fight.

"You and me both." Ivan replied "I'm staying the hell out of this thing if I can. I have a feeling that my occupation will put me in the line of fire to a certain degree." He paused for a moment, and a wry smile crossed his face. "If you do find yourself caught up in it, however," Ivan said "call me if you want anything to explode." Dr.Wright shifted uncomfortably and began to pick at his meal. He didn't want to entertain the thought of Ivan blowing things up. Ivan seemed to get a bit too much satisfaction out of saying that.

---

Tara reached her motorcycle and jammed the keys into the ignition. She took off through the parking garage, driving around the toll booth, and swerved as Samson approached, attempting to smack him with the back wheel before taking off down the street at breakneck speed towards the bridge. As she passed a dark alley, a headlight blinked on. A grey motorcycle sauntered into the street and followed after the blazing cycle. Riding it was a dirty-looking man with a grey cowboy hat on his head, held on by a drawstring as he drove. He had a crooked smile on his face, and smoked a cigarette as he swerved down an alley and intersected Tara's bike as she turned left onto Watson Street, towards the Watson-Crick Bridge. He sped up, gaining on her as she blazed past the bridge's toll booth, causing red lights to blare and a siren to go off. A second motorcycle roared through right after her, and the attendant ducked as four quarters embedded themselves into the bulletproof glass kiosk. A spent cigarette butt splattered against the toll booth's slider.

Post so nice, I posted it twice.

Thrice*

Reiko Silas Ain.

There Reiko was. Waiting for her opponent to make the first strike so she could counter and deliver the killing blow to impress all the Skulls...

... Which turned out to be them just staring at each other. Staring at each other menacingly. Reiko briefly raised an eyebrow as she looked around. The entire Big Five were here watching... absolutely nothing. What? Did this young fool even know where she was? Even after that mighty roar to announce her presence? How annoying. This whole scene went from mildly amusing to angering as hell. Reiko clenched her fists and rolled her eyes up into her head. What else did she expect? If this fool faced someone like Matt or Kylie she already would have been dead. However, that stance... The stance of a warrior. Nothing that she would use herself as she fights like a vicious beast. Reiko had the feeling this woman was ready for whatever she was going to bring to the table. However, the huntress was clever. Instead of fighting like a beast, she wondered if she could take her down like a huntress. True to her roots... A sly smirk crept onto Reiko's face as she raised one foot and slowly placed it down in front of her. She continued taking slow steps towards Mia, being silent as possible, hoping to take advantage of the woman's lack of sight. Once she was within pouncing distance, Reiko lunged at Mia with a clawed hand pulled back to slash at Mia's chest, snarling loudly. It wasn't her intention to kill the woman. Wounding is another story altogether. She was going to let Skeleton handle this one.

Samson Isiah Jeross.

Samson honestly found himself scratching his head at the turn of events. Two more people are now joining the chase. He didn't know who, but this fellow with a cowboy hat needs a makeover. He smirked widely. The problem he had here was that he didn't know who these two were - Most likely Skulls. They were going to attract some attention, and he hoped that he wouldn't have to face off against a member of the Big Four. But he was fine with taking out these two. He kept up with the pursuit. Leaving behind a brilliant trail of flaming feathers in his wake.

Mia Jones

Silence - familiar silence - silence was something Mia can bear. She had no choice but to be patient, and as far as now, remained so. Her senses lit up among the hushed noises of the surrounding gangster at the soft thud of padding against the asphalt. The subtle scraping of sand and gravel against the road. Mia, in spite of her blindness and lack of faith in any higher power, it was as though she felt her coming closer. Her own instincts flaring up. Adrenaline coursed through her chest and arms and legs; she kept them steady and poised. She just barely heard Reiko creep ever closer, just on the edge of her hearing.

Were she not looking for it, Mia would've never heard the beast coming. It was cause for concern. In the future, at least. The stillness insisted. Why was the beast hesitant? Reiko sounded above such a fight previously, but now she was stalking her? Tip-toeing? Frightened or cautious, she at least suspected something.

Mia's heart exploded in a rapid-paced beat at the touch of a sudden, cool breeze in front of her face. She had reacted even before Reiko's roar, drawing back by inches, and the roar itself reassuring her of her movements. Her body spiraled low around Reiko's positioning, the breeze created by her swiping claw brushing against her cheek - a close call by two inches, give or take - and found herself at the beast's side, where then by instinct, as influenced by years of hardship, brought her hand down to hammer upon Reiko's back. She wasn't quite sure where it would land. The proportions of the beast were unknown to her, but it had to have been somewhere between the shoulder-blades and her neck.

Regardless, she was fueled by adrenaline and wasn't afraid to use every bit of her strength if that is what it took.

---

Baron Moreau

Baron's face was plastered with a sly and fox-like smile. He could see the confusion on Ivan's face as the man tried to decipher his words, to which in reply, Baron simply pulled a cigarette out of his pack and slipped it between his lips. It being a no-smoking bar, he didn't light it up, but it had become simply a matter of habit. Something to convince himself there was a lit cigarette between his lips, going even a step further to sucking at the dry stick. As he brought his hands to lips to carry the cigarette between his fingers, and blowing out a breath without smoke, he laughed quietly and gently to himself.

"It'd be a real shame, wouldn't it?" Baron replied. "You take a good deal of pride in making things go kaboom. Hey, rightfully so. You're good at what you do. I'm surprised you wouldn't want to do something. This town's your home, right?"

He took another dry drag from his unlit cigarette. As he pulled it away, he looked at it, disappointed. It wasn't quite helping. He supposed his conscious was getting the better of its placebo effect.

"Damn thing. When you're finished with your drinks, how about we go outside so I don't get stuck with a dry cig'? Meanwhile, maybe you can show me around town. Show me what's good around here. Something you'd hate to see go to waste in this hypothetical... gang war."

Abigail "Rabbit" O'Reilly, & Umi “The Ghouls” Ichikawa

Instead of acknowledging Rabbit’s idea, they went on to do what she could really only describe as the dumbest thing she’d seen in… Weeks? Months? A long time no doubt. It caused one death, unnecessary destruction of property and when the manager responded in the way he should have Whisper beat his head against the bar counter. If Rabbit was drunk she wondered what kind of stuff the two of them had been doing while she’d looked away. She enjoyed alcohol, but wouldn’t do any heavier drugs than weed.

She opened her warp for herself, stepped out of it outside the window and dropped towards the ground after she closed it. She teleported just as she was about to hit the ground and landed safely on her feet. Rabbit begun to walk home, shortening her way with a few teleports. She couldn’t justify what they’d done tonight, but at least she had barely been a part of it. In fact if she’d been a larger part of it, it would have gone much better.

Rabbit arrived in Lincoln Point soon enough, and made her way to her own apartment. Her parents had paid for it once, but they weren’t entirely happy with what she was doing with her life in this city. They wanted her to follow her younger sister. She’d stopped listening to their talk about her, but she knew Aileen must be doing better than her. It became even more apparent after tonight.

When Abigail unlocked the door to her apartment her golden retriever was right there, wagging his tail and wishing her a welcome home. She closed the door, petted him and threw off her jacket. She found her cat sitting in the windowsill, and he looked at her for a moment before returning to grooming himself. She loved both of them, even with their different personalities. Abigail picked up the cat, Pogue, and hugged him. He made a weak attempt to resist now that the dog was watching. She put him down again.

“What a day, you guys.” She said and headed for her bed, but turned on some music before lying down.

The dog jumped up in the bed with her, and laid his head on her chest to comfort her. Rover always did that when he seemed to think his master was upset. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep in that position.

She woke up again when she heard someone in her apartment. Pogue and Rover were right next to her, or she would have assumed it was one of them.

“You’re the worst guards a lady could have.”

Rover wagged his tail and licked her face. He was actually a decent guard dog. He’d likely checked out who it was that had entered the apartment when she was asleep but since he wasn’t upset it could only mean a few possibilities. She got up to check it herself. It was still dark outside so she couldn’t have slept for long.

Rabbit found a familiar face, or two, in her kitchen. The tall Asian Umi who’d once walked up to her at some bar, bragged about her power and the more creative ways she could use it. She may have fallen for such a cheap trick once, but she wouldn’t again.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

“We didn’t mean to wake you, but I got done early tonight and needed to lay low.” Umi responded. She didn’t mention how she’d killed someone by accident. It wasn’t like she could continue to walk the streets for long the same night when she’d done something like that. People were bound to search for her.

“I trust you hid whatever you got tonight before coming here.”

“Of course I did, you fool.” Umi moved to put a hand on Rabbit, but she pulled away.

“I will throw you out.”

“Suit yourself.” Umi shrugged. “I’ll borrow your computer, headphones and promise to keep it down. That cool?”

Rabbit nodded, and left her alone, heading back to her bedroom.

Umi didn’t regret what she’d done to that one. She went around thinking she’d find someone else, someone better, and then she’d do something similar to them. Of course that wouldn’t be Umi’s fault either. She got rid of her last replica, and sat down at Rabbit’s computer to play some games.

Reiko Silas Ain.

Now what the hell was this? One moment Reiko was going to land the killing blow, and next this woman is behind her and slamming her strong fists against her back. She cursed herself for acting so rashly and underestimating her opponent because of one simple disability. Her reflexes were apex, but there was little she could do to get out of this one. Mia's mighty fist landed a blow against her back and felt the entire shock course through her body, completely tossing her off balance. Something was broken by the blow. She let out a growling cry as she went down towards the ground. She hit the solid concrete chest first and had to gasp for air as yet another shock (Albeit, to a lesser degree) rocked through her body, and she heard the breaking of bones in her chest. Reiko hissed some swears in Japanese, she knew her regeneration was correcting the wounds. However, her years of training has taught her that lying with her back exposed was a quick way to die. She could, at least, lie on her back.

(quick post just to move two plotlines along)

Skeleton and Damian

When Reiko went down, Skeleton realized his mistake. Immediately he sprang into action, running towards the fight and shoving Mia out of the way. He bent down over Reiko, his masked face devoid of emotion but his real one in a concerned frown. Damian hurried over and crouched down at his side.

"Son of a bitch." he said "I told you this was a bad idea, Skull-for-brains."

"I know that now." Skeleton replied as he stood up "Antonio!" he bellowed before turning to Mia "Impressive." he said "I underestimated you."

"God dammit." Damian muttered "Reiko, are you okay?"

Ivan and Dr.Wright

Ivan took another drink of his beer.

"What do you say, Tobes?" Ivan asked his friend "Do you want to help me show him around some?" Dr.Wright ate the last of the fish strips and put a tentacle where a chin would be on a normal human, as if in thought.

"Sure, why not." he said "Might as well get out of here." He got up and went for the door. A minute or two later, they were standing outside under the green awning. A light rain fell across the road, reflecting in beams of light and dancing in the puddles. Ivan walked to his car and produced a rather large black umbrella which Dr.Wright held over them as they began to walk down the sidewalk, damp with newly-fallen rain.

"So what do you want to see?" Ivan asked him as they stopped at the corner. A pretty-looking Thunderbird caught the corner of his eye. Whoever drove that must be really lucky.

Kylie "Grease" Evans

Grease wasn't all that interested in watching the fight. To her the outcome seemed pretty obvious. This strange newcomer would waltz off into the fight, planning on winning, and get shocked by how deceivingly powerful Reiko was. Even then so, she wanted to watch, if only to see Reiko fight and maybe learn about this stranger. There was something horribly familiar about this stranger, yet she was sure she had never met someone with such a distinct personality and...well...face. She happily cheered for Reiko as the two fighters took their positions, yelling much louder then necessary seeing how they were probably only a short distance away.

It was nearly comical to the drunk girl when both of the fighters took up the same strategy, wait for the other to make the first move. She leaned against Matt, a fruity looking drink hanging off her finger tips. She looked slightly disinterested, as they often had new members come swarming by, wanting to fight.

But then shit took a different turn then what Grease had guessed. Reiko didn't easily stomp this stranger, actually it was a huge power struggle. And in the end it was the older woman on the ground. Grease growled defensively, as if taking Reiko's defeat personally. Her hands suddenly had a soft green glow, looking like Grease was about to take matters into her own hands. But instead Skeleton congratulated the victor, and the glow quickly faded.

Grease looked down towards the pavement, running her free hand through her slicked up hair.

Nickolas Slater

He watched with a straight face as Whisper and the bartender had a quick exchange, followed by her cutting his gun and slamming his head into the bar. "Well that was just unnecessary." Nick commented, finishing his drink and dropping the bottle on the floor. "I coulda just bent the gun or some shit. No need to hurt anyone." he said, crossing his arms. "And shit man this bar sucked ass, but it had some pretty good drinks and I ain't even drunk yet." He said, before he looked down and threw a fifty on the ground next to the manager's hand. "Sorry 'bout my boss." he said, before he finally stood up, and followed Whisper out the building. "Where the hell am I gonna get drunk now?!" he complained as he left the building with Emillio and Whisper. "Any of you need a ride? I ain't drunk yet."

---

Matthew Evans

Matt had been apprehensive from the start of Skeleton's decision to have Reiko fight this girl, and now seeing what had just happened he was pissed off in general. He had two rules that every skull followed, every before he became a member of the bigs. One, dont ever fucking touch Kylie or he'll rip your balls off. Two, dont ever touch Reiko or he'll feed them to you. They were his adopted sister, and mother, respectively and had a huge impact on his life in general. He was in no way shape or form going to let them get disrespected, because if they disrespected them, they were also disrespecting him. When Mia was shoved out of the way Matt sprang into action, brushing past Kylie and covering the distance very quickly, "Touch her like that again and I'll cut you in half." he said as he walked past Mia, looking her in the eyes, unknowing that she couldn't see. He had learned first hand from Titus that it didn't matter how hard you punched a blade's edge, it just made your hand and forearm be cut in half faster.

He then turned away from her and set off, reaching Skeleton, Damian, and Reiko rather quickly. "What the fuck does she look like?" Matt replied sarcastically, pushing Damian to the side. "She's obviously sunshine and roses with that broken back!" he said, carefully moving her, and rolling her on her back as to help the healing process by helping to keep the bones in their proper place in the body. "You're gonna be fine, Reiko. You've taken worse."

---

Byte

"Well, we dont have a job, but..." Byte said, her huge mind racing and figuring out what they could do to kill the boredom that was attacking their minds as she really did not feel like doing something extra illegal tonight because she was sure that Rush would bitch out. "I was going to ask you if I could shove a pin-needle through Rush's dick again, but I have a better idea." she said, walking over to the key rack that was conveniently placed on the wall. "Let's go get shitfaced and show up at the crime scene. I read somewhere on the news that some gang guy was skull fucked by I don't know who, and was turned into a smear on the wall. Could be fun to check it out, find a target to black mail the police force for once we find out who." Byte said, an evil smile appearing on her lips. "Unless you got a better idea. I need to get out of the house. The internet is being a bitch and it smells like your bathroom in here. Seriously you need to fucking clean that place. Go freshen up, we're going out on the town!" she said, before spinning on her heel and walking off back in the direction she came towards her room to put on something that wasn't a tank top, and maybe actually comb her hair and look like a girl who had showered in the past two days. Despite her boyishness that did sound mildly appealing to Byte right now, whether it was looking her gender, or taking a shower she did not know.

Reiko Silas Ain.

---

Now what the hell was Detmer thinking? He thinks he's helping her, that she needs protection? That is ridiculous. She is a huntress that's fought her own battles viciously - from the second she was born, to this very day. She's been the one fighting them, winning them, and licking her own wounds after losing them. She didn't need a green child declaring her off limits. She bore her shark-like teeth, her eyes attentively going towards Damien and Skeleton - damn that fool for putting her into this state - kneel over her. Declaring Mia the victor and asking if Reiko was alright. Let me answer your question with another question; can I put my elegant clawed foot up your ass? She thought to herself as she quietly growled at Damien. She hurt like hell, she thanked the Gods that she could regenerate - but she noticed that she wasn't healing just as fast. She would have been back on her feet by now. But here she is, on her back instead of triumphant. Humiliated by a blind newcomer. Now being babied by everyone because of one loss.

"... I did not last this long by being easy to kill, Damien." Reiko quickly answered Damien and Matt, she would raise her upper body, but she figured she'd have an easier time healing in this position. Matt was helping her. Her pride wouldn't recover from this easily. But she was going to set Detmer straight. "Child," She started off, "I do not need your protection. I am more than capable of handling myself and licking my own wounds...." She turned her head towards Matt, "I've been doing this longer than you have. Now, would you mind getting me my wine from my booth?"

---

Ray Judah Drager, & Dexter 'Rush' Chertok.

---

Ray crossed his arms and casually let out a sigh. So Byte wants to go out and have fun? Usually her brand of fun consisted of snapping clothing pins on people's dicks and dicking around on the internet. Ray peered at the computer for a moment. He ought to throw that damn thing out the window one of these days. But whatever, it was hard to get him to care these days. All of Nicole's vulgar/stupid comments went clean over his head. He figured there was no point in trying to argue with her, just go along and hope she doesn't get them in too much trouble. "... Affirmative." He saluted her goodbye as he walked out of the room. Personally he never found the appeal of throwing on an uncomfortable and highly impractical outfit. He was already dressed up enough to suit his tastes, and all he needed after that was a jacket or a coat. He walked over to the coat racket and threw on his black longcoat. He looked down the hallway and shouted at Rush, "Yo, Boy Genius!"

Rush had to pry himself from his invention and look over his shoulder at Ray. "Yes?" He calmly asked.

"Byte wants to hit up a crime scene, get ready."

Rush rolled his eyes. Seriously, he had serious work to do here! Byte wants to go out now? Right when he's almost finished. This genius will have a word with Byte later on. For now he was going to get ready. This was likely a job they had to do. Rush wasn't the type to get dressed up - because he's already dressed up. This coat was useful for hiding his arsenal. So he reached into his desk to confirm what he was going to bring. His stun dart gun, his electric grenades, his motion sensor, his remote controlled spy drones. Yes. Very adequate. This will do. He put everything into his coat and casually walked out the room. Whistling a tune.

Mia Jones

She was poised for a finishing strike. The first was a crippling blow that had brought her adversary down groveling, and the second would ensure her victory. However, even through the beast's bemoaning, its cries and growls of pain as it sought to stands itself back up, she heard groups of people rushing out from the bar. Their feet slapped against the pavement, approaching ever closer towards her. She let up on her poise, and the moment she felt one of their hands touch her, she stepped back from the damaged beast as they circled around her. Oh, cute. So they send one of their own to her death and they start to care when the damage is already done? What kind of people was she dealing with? Were these the people that have been wreaking havoc upon Mendel? Were they really so soft? It was a little disappointing. Regardless, Skeleton admitted his defeat. He even went so far as to compliment her and admit his fault. So he wasn't a total dumbass like she suspected the Skulls leader of being... he could still hold his boys to a higher standard, at least. She wondered how many of them were high-school boys with daddy issues.

"I can hold my liquor." Mia replied dryly. Figuratively, at least. Actual liquor, not so much. Not since the Riots. She had to take care of the one kidney she had, lest she finally kicked the bucket... which was less of an option. She was holding herself to too many duties as of now. One of them was supposed to be finishing off Reiko. The Skulls should think of her as doing a favor for the gang. An animal is only worth by how healthy they are. She should've put the huntress out of her misery. Mia sighed, "wouldn't coddling the wounded weaken the pack in the end?"

It was barely audible though, at least under the bellowing of the young man she came across earlier. The boy. Mia's smirk gave hint to her amusement. Mingled in was some pity. She can sympathize with loss, but with stupidity... well, those sorts on their own. Mia raised her head and crossed her arms, unimpressed by Matthew's threats.

"Are you dumb, boy?" She asked him. "The woman - Reiko? She volunteered and she lost. Respect her decision. If you can't take it like a man, I suspect you don't deserve to be here. You can go home."

Her words received support from Reiko's, who had insisted that she didn't need the boy's pampering or protection. How admirable. She blew him off quite briefly and demanded a drink from him. Still has her pride, eh? So Mia didn't beat it out of her yet? Fairly admirable. She had to hand it to the old beast, she was stubborn. There was the faintest glimmer of an amused smiled on her face. She faced her head down, to where she assumed Reiko was laying.

"Shake it off, beast. I'll let you try again later." Mia told her as she listened in on the others around. You could hear it in Reiko's trembling voice: she was a proud woman, and this was shameful. This was killing her. The blind woman didn't much care, but she did feel for her. "Leave her alone," Mia said to the surrounding Skulls. "Let Reiko fight her own battles. She doesn't need any dead-weights holding her down... isn't that right, beast?"

---

Baron Moreau

The man had about jumped off the bar stool - not quite, as an actual stunt like that would provide some complications on his leg, but he eagerly trekked through the bar despite it. As he pushed the door open and found refuge under the green awning, he didn't hesitate to procure his lighter and set flame to the end of the cigarette propped in his mouth, barely heeding Ivan and Tobias as they came from behind. He took in a puff of smoke, and a wave of ease relieved the tension that had seized his body. He exhaled, two billowing stream of smoke exiting through his nose and joined the air. It looked delightfully dreadful outside; a typical Louisiana rainy day.

"Whatever you have in mind." Baron said as he continued to stare downward. Whether he was fixated by the cigarette or the pavement itself was unclear, and ultimately somewhat strange. But never having been an easy man to read, it has always been figured that it was best to leave the psychologist to his own devices. In most circumstances, a critical error on behalf of his enemies. Fortunately, he had no enemies here this day. Baron continued, "what's a favorite around here?"

As he looked up to properly communicate with his companions, his eye was caught by an old car. Rather, an old car model that has been exceptionally taken care of. A black Thunderbird, just lying around a shitty town like Mendel? Who knew how much this antique was worth? It was such a shiny, well taken care of vehicle, he couldn't help but take a closer look. Walking up to the curb, away from the shelter Tobias' umbrella had provided, he approached the Thunderbird. Even the inside of the car was pampered! It looked so cozy and well designed. Was this a new model? He didn't hear about any Thunderbirds coming out, and this thing looked like it performed beautifully.

"Check out this beautiful girl." Baron chimed with a smile back at Ivan and Tobias. Sure, it was old fashioned. But Baron loved old fashioned. In fact, he had to take a closer look. He didn't want to ruin the wax job, and he was far more a gentleman than to just set his hands on someone's car. He leaned over to take a peak, his leg brushing up against the car door he peered inside the vehicle to take a closer look at the HUD kit inside...

Mercedes Fierro


“Now, this establishment isn’t like that trashy place on East Mendel. We take pride in our customers, so as one of our performers I expect you to live up to our expectations. Understand?” Man, this guy really liked to hear his own voice, “Yes, Mr. Monroe.” Sitting in her new bosses office, Mercedes kept her hands folded neatly along her lap as she watched him stack crisp twenty dollar bills along his desk. ‘340… 360... 380...400 .’ Oh, that fat stack of cash was going to look good in her wallet. Biting her lip eagerly as she counted the dollars in her head, Mercedes finally turned her eyes back up to her boss. He had a cross look on his face, probably due to the way she addressed him, but Mercedes didn’t really care. She had heard the other girls call him ‘sir’, but she had done her hours and was off the clock, so she wasn’t ready to feed his ego—he wasn’t a customer, after all.

Richard Monroe was the owner of Cupids Corner, in fact. A tall, handsome older man that had a mouth full of charm, and a head full of silver hair. He was probably the beefiest middle-aged man she had ever seen, but from first impressions, he seemed like the kind of guy that was all talk and no action. However, none of this seemed to hide the weird, and creepy aura resonating off of him. She brushed this aside as her own nervousness, but she could still tell something wasn’t right with the guy.

“So, when will I be able to host my own show?”

“Eager, huh? I like that in my girls.” God, she wanted to vomit. It took everything in Mercedes power not to leave the room. This guy was pure slime, and she was really beginning to question if she needed this money or not. But as she stared at the stack of money before her, she bit her bottom lip nervously once again. ’No,’ She immediately reminded herself, she did need this money. ‘Do it for Tony, and Nana.’ She wasn’t making enough at the India Club, and her part time job at the Jolly Roger weren’t making ends meet, so she really had no choice. She needed this job.

Rather then feeding him a reaction, Mercedes didn’t even flinch. She stared hard back at the man disinterested, and expressionless. The uncomfortable silence that followed her intense stare was enough to make him uneasy, and she could tell this by the way he shifted in his chair before her. ‘That’s right, back up.’ Unlike these other girls, she wasn’t about to bow so easily. At all, for that matter.

Finally, attempting to break the silence, the older man cleared his throat and tied the healthy pile of bills with a rubber band. “Your, uh, first show will be next week. Until then you’ll keep working private rooms, and the bar.” Fighting back an eye roll, she gave a stiff nod and agreed to the terms. She couldn’t really argue after all, she had made good money on her first night alone, and she still had yet to put on her own show. That was where she would really shine, but until then she would just bite her tongue and bare with it. The coy smirk had returned to her bosses face as he held out the money for her to take. The gesture was odd, it almost felt like a trap, but Mercedes hesitantly raised her hand and grabbed the wad of cash, “Thank you, Mr. Mon—“ Before she could pull away, a strong hand grabbed her wrist and clenched tightly, holding her firmly in place and forcing her to freeze in her spot.

The look in his eyes made her blood run cold, and the sudden grin on his lips would forever sit in her mind, “You did good tonight, Mercedes. So I know you won’t make me regret hiring you.” His words were cold, and dangerous, as was the look in his eyes. Was this the same man she had just spoken to? “Yes.. yes, sir.” She said, almost obediently. With a sharp tug, she pulled her wrist out of his grip and quickly stood from her chair. Tucking the cash into her purse and pulling on her thin coat, she avoided eye contact with her boss by staring at the ground as she spoke in a quiet, stuttering tone, “I-I need to go.”

Mr. Monroe simply leaned back and gave her a lax nod, the strange, menacing grin still on his face, “Of course.~ You may leave. I’ll see you tomorrow night, Mercedes.”

With those words, she was quick to hurry out to door and into the main lobby of the club, his words trailing behind her and sitting her mind. Half-naked dancers worked the stage of the main room. Their bodies twirling, and grinding against and along poles as they presented themselves to the many customers in the large club. Eyes down, and head low, she hurried past the crowd and ignored any calls to her. Feeling like the walls were closing in on her, her chest tightened, and her breathing hitched in her throat as she suddenly became incredibly nauseous. Bursting out the doors of club, the cold air knocked her back to reality and left her shivering in fear. Heaving in her breaths she turned back to the heavy double doors with wide eyes. ‘What the hell was that?’

It wasn’t like her to get so worked up over something like that. With her fair share of encounters with grabby, and aggressive men, this was the first time she had ever felt so.. small. Something wasn’t right with that man, or this this place, but until she found another job that paid her just as much, Mercedes had no choice but to suck it up. Rubbing her arm uncomfortably, she decided not to stay any longer. So with one last glance at the front entrance she hurried to her car, struggling to run in heels through the rain.

Once in the comfort of her little yellow bug, she pulled out her phone and wallet before sorting through her inbox. Looking over each message, her eyes stopped along a single message from her little brother. [“Are you off work yet?”] The message had been sent a little less then fifteen minutes ago, and Mercedes was surprised her brother hadn’t blown up her inbox like he usually did. With little thought, her nails tapped gently along the screen of her cell phone as she replied, [“On my way.”] She wanted to be home just as much as he did, so rather then wasting anymore time, she threw her phone onto the passenger seat and started her car.

Mercedes & Tony Fierro


After the long drive from West Mendel, and having to go through some trouble with a road block of police only a few streets away from her house, Mercedes finally made it home in one piece. Parallel parking her car next to the sidewalk with a heavy sigh, she shut off the engine and slumped in her chair. As much as she loved making money, working all the time was really starting to wear her thin. “I need a damn vacation.” She said to herself. Unfortunately with this new job it didn't look like she was going to get much time off, but one could dream, right?

Cold, and tired, she grabbed all her things and heaved herself out of the car. She wasn't a fan of this cold weather so as the rain continued, she covered her head with her purse and cursed heavily in spanish as she ran down the walkway and up the stairs of the porch. Opening the door with little trouble, a sigh of relief escaped her lips as warm air swept past her skin and carried away her stress, "I'm home." She called out, heels clicking along the wooden floor as she walked down the short hallway. With little struggle she found her brother melted into their grandmothers cushioned chair, a bored, and tired look in his eyes as he stared at the television. "You forgot to lock the door again, Tony."

"You forgot to put some clothes on, Mercy." He retorted lazily, not even sparing her a glance as he continued to flip through channels. "Cállate!" Annoyed by his words she rolled her eyes at her brothers sass before heading up the stairs to her room to change. Closing the door behind her and kicking off her shoes, she flexed her toes through the fuzzy rug on the floor, and stretched her ankles. She had been on her feet the entire day, and wearing six-inch heels wasn't helping at all. Digging through her clothes and pulling out a comfortable pair of black leggings, an old band shirt, and a bright blue hoodie she threw the clothes along the bed and shifted around the room. Standing before her mirror just as she was going to change, Mercedes looked over her soaked uniform. Shimmering gold booty-shorts, and a cropped, white and gold vest that acted more like a bra. The tiny bit of clothes did little to cover her up, but she had to admit it did look good on her. Shivering lightly and being pulled from her thoughts, she turned her attention away from the mirror and dressed into something more comfortable.

After some time to herself, Mercedes finally returned downstairs. Tony, who was still slouched in the chair, was tapping his foot impatiently along the wood floor. He had waited all day for his sister to come home, and now that she was here he was beginning to grow antsy. Now warm, and out of her wet clothes, dark, thick curls of hair pooled over her shoulders as she chewed on a piece of gum and pulled out her phone. “You want a ride to the bar? I'm probably going to get some food, and since I'm heading that way and its been raining, I’d rather you not drive that death machine of yours.” Tony rolled his eyes and bit his tongue. There was no need to argue with her seeing as she was about to save him a whole lot of gas and trouble. “Yeah, are you ready to go now?” Not earning a reply from her, he sat up along the chair and caught his sister standing at the doorway of the kitchen. Keys in hand and looking through her text messages again she started slowly to the door before finally answering him, “Mhm, lets get going. I don’t want to leave Nana by herself for too long.” Pushing himself up from the chair he hurried to the hallway and slid past his sister so he could leave out the door first. “Rude.” Earning a shove from behind, Tony gave a small snort as he pushed open the door and made his way down the stairs.

Her yellow Volkswagen beeped to life as the doors unlocked, and once the two were in the car they were quick to head off. The rain fell steadily along the glass, but the light drizzle was hardly enough to make driving difficult. Rap played softly from the speakers, and as Mercy enjoyed the silence her brother was quick to interrupt just like always, “So, how’d the new job go?”

Man, she really didn’t want to talk about that right now. “S’fine.” She said with a shrug.

“Just, fine? Did something happen?” At her silence Tony’s eyes narrowed and he tensed up in the passenger seat, “Did some motherfucker touch you?”

“No, no, no,” Well, technically that did happen, but he didn’t need to know about that, “It was just.. First day on the job is always weird. It’s just gonna take me a while to get used to this one.” A heavy frown sat along Tony’s face as he watched his sister. He didn’t trust the tone of her voice, but it was clear this whole conversation was stressing her out. “You got a light?” She asked just as she pulled out a cigarette. With a sigh he took out his own pack, and with a flick of his lighter, lit both cigarettes and cracked open the window. The rest of the car ride was followed with silence, much to her pleasure, but as they drew closer to their destination both siblings soon found their pleasant drive quickly coming to an end.

Pulling up to the Jolly Roger, Mercy and Tony squinted suspiciously at the large crowd in front of the bar. “Oooh~ You guys having a party or somethin'?”

Tony slowly threw a glare at his sister, “Yeah, something like that.” Looking back to the crowd, he gave a heavy sigh as he caught sight of the Big Four—or rather the Big Five, now—standing amongst the circled group. What was even going on? Not wanting to be left out more then he already was, Tony rushed out the door before Mercedes could even park. "Hey! At least wait till' I stop moving!"

Ignoring his sister, Tony drew near the group slowly. Peeking around the other Skulls, he tried to get a good look at what was going on, but before he got any answers a deep cry filled the air, and his name was suddenly called out by an all too familiar voice “Antonio!” Shoving past the crowd without a second though, he hurried to Skeletons side, eyes widening in shock as he caught sight of Reiko laying on the floor, surrounded by the rest of the Big Five. What the hell was going on!? Swallowing hard he eyed the unfamiliar girl standing before Reiko before returning his attention to their masked leader, "S-sir?"

May

If May had more in the way of ferocity than she did felicity, then Baron's leg brushing against her may have been eerily reminiscent of waking a grizzly from its hibernation. Luckily for Baron, May was pretty damned far from a grizzly-although she may have been fit, in another life, as a teddy bear. Where Baron glanced into the car-if he were to focus on the up-close reflection of the window and not the further-in plush leather and sleek design, he'd see a face. Perhaps disturbingly, not his own. A girl's-hard to place exactly how old, but it would be a fair guess to say she was old enough to buy cigarettes but not alcohol. Her features were round and smooth, a born-with-it grace adorning her features with more ease than any plastic surgeon or makeup artist could ever craft. Fading streaks of blonde clawed their way up from the wavy tips of her hair, the dye wearing thinner as it reached her roots. Been a while since she'd seen a hairstylist, perhaps. Smokey eyes were blurred and runny-presumably, from tears-and there was a brief look of desperate, I don't want to believe in case it doesn't work out hope on her features. Nervous teeth chewed into the bottom lips as her brown eyes watched Baron's with eager hesitance.

But that was the beautiful thing about May. Baron might not even notice it. He could lift up his leg, walk off, and never again cross paths with the supernatural Thunderbird that lie before him.

Of course, that was assuming May had nothing to say about it. Baron had perhaps run across a telepath in the past-being a psychologist with an interest in metahumans, it wouldn't be far-fetched. But had he ever heard of the term, he'd surely be able to figure out what was occurring-a voice, crystal clear appearing right in his head, sounding from everywhere and nowhere. The vague, almost-electric sensation of touching the car, of being dangerously close to a live wire-or, perhaps, just a human soul. The car, when touched, seemed to be alive, a force of nature or wild beast rather than cold steel sitting unoccupied on a Friday night in Mendel. The curves seemed natural and organic, the lazy glint of light off the well-polished wax job mirroring that of a light dancing off someone's eyes.

And all the while, May would not shut the hell up. Her voice was a strange mix of throaty and high-pitched: one got the impression she was perhaps a singer, or at least had vocal training of some sort, although she clearly wasn't employing it for the purposes of everyday conversation. The periodic hiccup of someone who's just finished crying interrupted her soliloquy, which raised the question of how the hell a car hiccuped, or needed to hiccup. Mind over matter, as they say. She chattered out words like a machinegun, some frenzied stream-of-consciousness conversation that probably would've continued just as fluidly had Baron not been there.

HEY! Oh my God thank you Jesus finally somebody. Please please please pretty please don't let go. Like don't move away from the car. Just keep touching it okay? Please? It's been so long I don't think I can-oh I sound clingy I shouldn't do that. Um. Hi. Please don't let go. I'm May. I'm the car. Well I'm not the car I'm like more than the car but currently I'm in the car. No not in the car like I'm not inside of it but like I'm possessing the car? No possessing sounds scary. I'm not like a demon or something. I'm a person. Who's in a car. Who is a car. I don't really know. Look please don't let go okay um I'm sorry if I'm freaking you out or something but I promise this is all on the level okay? I just haven't had anybody to talk to in a while and I'm just...uh...listen um listen I can make it worth your while, okay? Like do you need a ride somewhere? I can drive for you in case it hurts your leg-oh sorry I just saw you had the brace on and I like wasn't prying or anything i just thought maybe you might like that? Not that like you need help or anything just in case I thought I'd offer. Um. We can take your friend to? Also I'll like cover gas and stuff and drop you off wherever you need to go I really don't mind like it'd be cool we could go hang out for a while or just you know ride somewhere i don't...um...the car's, like, really nice? I don't want to sound like I'm grandstanding cause I mean it is my car and all but like it's totally vintage and I've just kept it in good shape and all? It's like really super killer-diller you know and maybe uh if you wanted to ride around in it I could just take you wherever. Oh I already said that didn't I? I'm sorry. I'm just nervous. Really nervous. I....um, please don't...please don't let go. The Thunderbird, at this time, let out a sharp huff from the exhaust pipe as if it was entirely out of breath and trying to catch its wind back. Oh I haven't even introduced myself yet have I? I'm so silly. My name's May. Sorry if I'm talking too much. I talk too much when I get nervous sometimes. Not that you're making me nervous you're totally cool I just I dunno I get nervous sometimes you know I don't have like any problems or anything so don't think I'm crazy. I just. Uh. Oh no I'm scaring you off aren't I? I'm sorry. I should just go.