Falcon looked down at the broken machine. It seemed defeated, but then it had looked that way before as well. Just to be certain, he lifted the dented power pack out of its chest cavity and gave it a few good whacks with his metal bar. Better safe than sorry, after all.

The ground shook, driving him to one knee, but safety was in sight, and anywhere that was within sight, he could be. He revelled in the warm sunlight, basking in it for the first time in weeks, when the PDA in his pocket went off again. The message and tone were infuriatingly condescending, but he held back his tongue from making a cutting remark back at the device. He owed this man his freedom, and so he could tolerate a little disrespect. Just how much would remain to be seen, but for now he was determined to be civil.

Falcon approached the watercraft and hailed the butler, reaching out to shake his hand.

Nihil lifted herself from the ground. It appeared that the fight was over, but she was interested in leaving quickly. She had little taste for the prison now, and the robotic warden may rise once again. Rile spoke to her, voicing an interest in getting to know her. Nihil had already regretted saving the girl. She had no interest in making friends, an exercise which would be pointless for one such as Nihil. As the group made their exeunt Nihil moved quickly past Riley, speaking briskly as she passed, "Do not think that we are friends just because I saved you." She said flatly.

The submarine now lay before her, a proverbial ark to save the rouges. Nihil entered the vehicle, paying little heed to the butler or the annoying squawking of 'Mr. Sinister' in her ear. She had one sole interest outside of the walls of the prison, and it certainly didn't lay with this rag-tag group of rouges. For now her cooperation with them was merely a means to an end, born from interest in the resources their would-be savior could offer. She stepped inside of the vehicle, finding a quiet spot sit away from the foot traffic of the rest of the vessel.

Riley only laughed at Nihil's straightforward words. "Oh, I like that girl," she snickered to herself, watching Nihil's back. Her palms now dry, she could feel her fire gaining strength, and Riley shook her head like a wet dog once more before she put it out. Didn't want to go smoking up the submarine that had appeared in theatric time with Mr Sinister's announcement.

Riley walked up to its door, and stepped in. She turned to the butler - a spiffed up old man, but apparently lethal if Mr Sinister were to be trusted - and asked conspiratorially, "Any chance you could hook us up with some weapons? Daggers? I would take a steak knife at this point."

Riley made her way towards the back of the submarine, taking a stool and dragging it between her legs. Straddling it with wide-spread knees, she propped her elbow up against the smooth, cool wall and leaned her temple against the heel of her hand. She was looking forward to some down-time now that the adrenaline from the fight was slowly ebbing away and the thrill of freedom was losing its overpowering sweetness. And in the rancours of that, lay a silent reminder of why Riley had chosen to bind herself to a team of strangers - powerful, and just a little bit insane.

I'm getting to you, Naomi. Riley drummed her fingers against the curving metal surface, and then curled them into a fist. Her stare was vacant, seeing not the old butler or the other Rogues, but a girl with hair spun of gold and a smile that just radiated sunshine. Riley was dark as far as she was concerned, with blood on her hands and enough sins to make up one hell of a resume for Satan to mull over, but somehow none of that corruption had touched Naomi, despite their proximity, their shared DNA. Please wait for me.

After escaping the prison, the rogues sat in the sub for about an hour, the tension was thick and the space was cramped. The only one looking comfortable was Jenkins. Soon he announced that they were there and moved to open the hatch. Outside, if you know the city, you would recognize the smell of tobacco, and alcohol. The dark atmosphere and the dim street lights. The large shipment containers and the sound of scrapping metal as they were being lifted and moved by a crane. All of the different Japaneses markings and signs, showing how the Yakuza mark their territory. It was Brigeport, more specifically, the older East Docks. Bridgeport was controlled by the Shinoda Family of the Yakuza.

Jenkins led the group right across the street from the Docks to a warehouse. He input a code into a pad and the lift opened revealing a normal looking space with a small stairs to the right and rows of shelves holding wooden boxes and crates. There were laps hanging above and an air full of dust. The place looked like it had not been used in a while. Once inside the opening closed and Jenkins turned to address the group.
____________________________________________________



Jenkins looked at the group with distaste, wondering why he was even here. After the thought and eye roll, he began to speak.

"Hello and welcome. If you did not already know yet, my name is Jenkins, and I have acted as your baby sitter for the past hour. He said bitterly.

"Now you stand in one of the many properties owned by Mr. Sinister. You should be grateful that he choose all of you, if I was him you all would be at the bottom of the ocean but alas I am not so here we are" He said with contempt as he trained his bright red eyes on the group.

"Well let’s get things under way. You all probably have a lot of questions but sadly I am not here to answer them. I am here get you settled in and then I can get back to my real job. Being a butler. Now, the door to your left leads to a lounge room. It has a TV, a Mini Bar, fully stocked I might add, and food. Behind me down this row there is a bunk for each of you with your name on it. He said as he gestured to the door and the row behind him.

"Now I am also guessing that you would like to know more about Mr. Sinister. Well I will only tell you a few things that are important for now. He is a techno- path, and for those of you with low IQs, that means he can control technology with his mind. He was the rogue that sunk Cell Block S. You know the famous one that first man to ever break free of ICF, I know because I broke out with him 15 years ago when the prison first opened. He is a dangerous man and is not one to be played with. After clearing his throat he began to pace.

"There are a few important things you should know. One; inside of you right now there are nanites inside of you, flowing through your veins, making more of themselves from your own matter. Now, before you over react, they are there for a number of reasons, but to put it simply they are meant to act as a leash until you have paid your debt to Mr. Sinister." He said with a smirk at some of their shocked and angry faces.

"What? You did not think that this was a free ride and then you are free to go about still running around like chickens with your heads cut off, most likely to get caught again. Well it is not. And most of you should know that nothing is free when you are working with a master class Rogue. You all accepted his deal when your finger touched the PDA. Tell me did you feel something different after you pressed you thumb against the screen? Well a real rogue would have. When you touched that screen you technically signed a sort of contract. Your thumbs released nanites hidden in the cells of the screen, a small amount, but due to the adrenalin from your fight with the Warden, they spread like wild fire across your bodies. This entire time they have been collecting data on each of you, finding your strengths, plotting your personalities, and doing one key job; finding out how to kill you. Each of you have given enough data, to us, that we have a way to kill each and every one of you. It's amazing isn't it. Now before you all try to kill me remember, there are enough nanites flowing through your bodies to kill you on the spot. This leads me to explaining the rules. Just three simple guidelines, while you are working off your debt to Sinister. First, if you try to leave or run away before the job is done, you will die. Second, if you try to sabotage the mission, in any way you will die, and lastly if you try to kill each other you will die." He finished with three fingers being held in the air.

"Now what I am about to tell you, take it as a sign of good faith. The nanites can be removed but they have to be turned off first and they will be turned off after you finish one job for Mr. Sinister. He needs you to settle a score with a...how do I say this, rivaling faction, for him. You will act as his kill squad and once the job is finished the nanites will turn off and be expelled through your body by..natural means if you can understand that. Then you will be freed." Jenkins said with a full smile that implied more than it meant.

"That is all I have to say. Play nice children and remember don't kill each other. Oh and one more thing, the beds are pre-assigned. Each one containing a tablet that has all the data on you including the "kill switch". So have fun with that. Any questions? No. Well god-bye." In an instant he disappeared. No flashy bang, or magic spell he just vanished in the blink of an eye. Leaving the rogues to wallow with each other and await orders.

Semyaza had been unable to actually ride within the submarine. Well, it might be better to say that he would have been able to were it not for his insistence upon bringing the gift. It was a simple Grigori token of gratitude, presenting your benefactor with the head of a powerful enemy, and he was completely unwilling to part with it. So he had leaned up against the tower, held on, and insisted that it would be fine. This is why he was the first to see the city skyline when they surfaced. Following the human to what he hoped would be a meeting with his master so he could get this token gesture out of the way and move on to important things, never having to see any of these people again. Warden Craftchenco's head was a bit to big to fit through the doorway, so he set it outside and followed the man in.

A few minutes later he burst back out the door, screaming, before grabbing the head, giving it a good three spins, and hurling it back across the street, over the docks, and back into the sea with a enormous splash. "FILTHY DISGUSTING HUMAN!" He shouted to the heavens. "Gloat now! Gloat while you can, for I will never forget this trickery! When my kind have subjugated this worthless planet you will have nowhere to run! I will hunt you to the end of my days, giving up my very life if need be, to ensure that you are dragged before my resplendent Queen in chains! You will be as a earth dog, subjected to every torture and indignity we are capable of envisioning. Then, when you are broken beyond repair and rendered into the simpering animal that you truly are, you will be kept alive forever and displayed as a monument to humanities misplaced self-importance! THIS I VOW AS A GRIGORI GENERAL!!!!!"

Then, still seething, and stormed back into the warehouse. Pointedly ignoring every amenity offered he picked a corner, sat down cross legged, and shut all of his eyes.

Rose gave a bit of sigh, though honestly she didn't care that much, though the part about being able to kill her made her uncombforatble. Most likely the nanites would create some kind of sold within her body and it would destroy her, that or each of them would burst into flames. The flames thing would be a much more probable solution to killing her. Though in truth she understood the idea of an eye for an eye. She often made people pay back their dept as well, normally through cooking her someone or bringing her someone to eat. Due to her being immortal though time wasn't an issue, so long as the nanites weren't permanent she was fine with it.

After a quick look at the tablet she walked out of the room to find Semyaza sitting in a corner. She smiled and started to walk towards him, she was giving out an uncomfortable feeling as she approached him. She absolutely loved men who thought they were in total control, it was even more fun to 'play' with them. "You are an interesting man. Tell me, if you love this queen of yours so much, why hasn't she repaid that love? It might be that she thinks your worthless you know. I mean she never came to try and break you out." Rose said getting closer to him. Making great ones doubt themselves, that was something she loved doing.

Two eyes opened. Just two, on his head. They opened, and they narrowed.

"Queen Grigoria fell in battle with our enemies shorty after I did. Deprived of her shield was was forced to meet our foes herself, and is even now imprisoned somewhere on this wretched rock. I had intended to search for her as soon as I payed respect to Mr. Sinister for the opportunity. Even now the thought of her imprisoned was the only thing keeping me from destroying that butler as he spoke. I can not die until she is free."

It would be accurate to say that Semyaza did not possess the capacity for loyalty. As an artificial being he was very much like an ant. An ant has no concept of such a complex thing as loyalty. An ant operates on something simpler. Something primal. On one of what must be among the oldest emotions on the planet. Rose was entirely correct in her assessment. An ant, like Semyaza, like all Grigori, could be said to be driven by love. Unconditional love, so great as to be unimaginable. A love that crushed like a mace.

It was in this way that he was so much less than humankind.

"I do not believe," he said slowly, "It is possible for you to understand."

The submarine ride was thankfully uneventful, with none of the men putting on some ridiculous act of showmanship and no one annoying her for her life story. But Nihil knew that could only last so long. As they emerged from the vessel Nihil had little opinion on their new base. It was serviceable enough. What wasn't serviceable was her arsenal. She was tiring quickly of using her hands and wearing the orange prison jumpsuit. As they filed into the warehouse the butler Jenkins spoke up, with an undue air of superiority. Nihil hardly felt like a butler had a right to presume himself better than her, but she still listened. Nihil's already sour expression soured further. She had sensed a disturbance in her body, the nanites proving to be an unwelcome addition to her biology. How bothersome. As the butler stopped talking Nihil stalked away, ignoring the strange flying creature's outburst. She was prepared for a day when she would be unarmed, of course.

Nihil had disappeared shortly and reappeared quickly, holding a pair of large olive drab cases in each hand. A good soldier was ready for any situation, and Nihil had stashes of supplies hidden securely throughout the city, one luckily falling within the small area of Bridgeport they were allowed to roam without the nanites triggering. She headed back into the warehouse and lay the boxes onto her bunk, but first picked up the tablet provided by Mister Sinister. She glanced over the dossiers of her allies, memorizing the information- not our of personal interest, of course, but because the information may prove useful. She then looked over the information for her 'kill switch'. It appeared that the nanites inside her would create a high-pitched 'whine' inside of her eardrum, which would undoubtedly quickly burst both of them. If the blood loss did not kill her they would then attack her nasal cavity, releasing concentrated capsaicin inside of them, something which would already prove to be incredibly unpleasent against a normal person. For her it would likely be incredibly more unpleasent, and fatal. This proved that Mister Sinister did know as much as he claimed- at the very least he knew her abilities, information very few were privy to. For now Nihil opened the case, confirming that its contents were still safely contained within and not absconded by some ragamuffin looking to get armed. Luckily for her it was all still safe, a small armory that she had prepared.

She began to unpack, first pulling the clothing contained: First was an olive drab crop top, exposing her belly. It was certainly sexy, but that was hardly the point, she cared more for the utility of it, lighter clothing allowing a higher range of free motion. She then pulled a similarly misleading pair of very short shorts. Although the primary goal of the clothing was to allow her to move there was, of course, an important additional psychological effect that could not be discounted. That was to say that male enemies tend to easily get distracted. She said the clothing aside for now, ready to examine her arsenal. First came a pair of AMT Hardballer pistols with an accompanying shoulder holster, one unit with two cross-draw holsters on each side. She set them aside as well, delving further into the confines of the first box, pulling from it an M4A1 sporting an ACOG scope and an accompanying sling. Finally she moved onto the next case, which held one all important weapon: A Barrett M107. Her arsenal was, of course, incomplete without a sniper rifle.

With her 'cargo' now secure she put the weapons and holsters back into the case, stowing it underneath the bed. The clothes still lay there, as she was tiring of the prison jumpsuit. She disrobed in the middle of the bedroom, giving no regard to anyone that may enter. She cared little, why exactly would a soldier raised in isolation care?

Karate Bastard passed the submarine ride in stony silence. It was partially to more quickly recover from the strain of using Buddha's Palm- simply using the technique had killed lesser men. Much, much lesser men. But mostly, he was taking stock of his new allies. If teamwork was to be forced upon him, it was best to know who was capable of what.

And it seemed teamwork was indeed being forced upon him by this mysterious Mr. Sinister, whoever he was. Unlike some of the others, KB did little more than raise an eyebrow at the mention of the nanites- which, it turned out, were poised to release enough curare and cyanide to kill twenty normal people into KB's bloodstream should Keith try anything. Enough to kill him two times over.

Oddly enough, he was not insulted in the least by Mr. Sinister's need to put a leash on him. Instead, KB took it as a mark of respect. A gesture between equals. Mr. Sinister was clearly aware enough of KB's abilities to feel the need to take extreme precautions. The older rogue knew exactly how dangerous Keith could be. So much the better. There would be no misunderstandings.

When Jenkins finished their briefing, Keith found his marked bunk. He shook his head at the laundered sheets and soft pillow, before tearing them off the bed entirely and leaving them in a heap on the floor. KB would sleep on the bare mattress. A man ought not have too much comfort. It makes him soft. That's how men became sooks, like that whimpering little girl. He couldn't believe that weakling Ellie had come along with them, asking other people to fight for her. Pathetic. That bizarre creature, though, the General. The one who had thrown the tantrum. Now that was a creature Karate Bastard could respect. The big pale one seemed alright as well. Maybe working with these people wouldn't be quite so bad.

He spent a few minutes cursing as he tried and failed to work the tablet, before giving up and tossing the thing carelessly onto the bed. Still bare-chested, KB made his way to the lounge in search of food and drink.

He was not disappointed on that front. A fully-stocked bar and a table greeted him. After months of prison food, both looked sumptuous. Although Keith was generally suspicious of luxury, he felt mealtimes were a good time to indulge. Good food was part of a strong body, and good wine part of a happy soul. Smiling genuinely, KB piled a plate with high-calorie, high-protein offerings, then ambled over to the bar and had a look through the glassware. He briefly contemplated a small shot glass before tossing it aside with a sneer. Instead, he grabbed a large water tumbler and filled it to the brim with Lagavulin. KB had picked up a taste for Scotch during his whirlwind tour of Scotland. He had left knowing how to fight with claymore, Lochaber axe, and dirk, not to mention a bevy of traditional wrestling techniques. And of course, he had left behind twelve dead martial artists. He smiled at the memory. Good times.

With gusto, he began to wolf down the food, pausing only to slurp down mouthfuls of expensive whiskey. Keith Blackwell was enjoying his newfound freedom.

Nataliya was content to leaving them to fight the robot. She couldn't help but snark when the alien took the Warden's head.
"What're you going to do? Hang it on your wall?" She snorted as she climbed down into the submarine. She leaned against the wall, taking in the rest of the people she was with. She was silent for the submarine ride, as well as the butler explaining.

"Inconsiderate ass." She said, moving back to the lounge where the mini bar was. She grabbed the bottle of Stoli before rejoining the group.
"But I mean, really what did we expect? I thought you were so much more than us? Yet you were tricked just as easily as any other human." Nataliya asked the alien who was screaming. She popped the lid off and took a long gulp, relishing how the liquid burned her throat. She listened to him talk and it threw her for a moment. She had not known a single human capable of anything but deceit. Her husband experimented on her, her brother wouldn't get her out of jail. Her parents raised her as a Princess for a country that detested the aristocracy. It was all very disheartening.
"Perhaps you're right. Don't fault the...man? Eh, don't fault the man for his morals, for we have so few of them." Nataliya said, before taking another sip. She didn't go get the tablet, she didn't wish to know her limitations because that would be acknowledging that she wasn't human. She only used her abilities under times of great duress. Even how she killed was mortal, the only reason she ended up in that damned prison was because of her abilities, on multiple accounts. She finished off the bottle before setting it on the ground. She watched as one of the girls changed, debated being one of those people, did a quick wolf whistle before going to find more vodka. No more Stoli unfortunately but there were a couple bottles of Smirnoff which was almost as good. She grabbed those and made her way back once more, just because there wasn't a better show than a bunch of evil psychopaths all together in one room.

When the battle concluded, Baal looked at his temporary allies unimpressed with their efforts to bring down the Warden, foolish mortals, always choosing the brutish way fighting a battle he thought to himself and followed the others to the submarine that Mr. Sinister had sent for them. Once in the underwater vehicle, Baal kept to himself and communicated telepathically with the high priests of his cult. They were glad to have finally made contact with him and inquired about what had happened. Baal just told them that he would inform them about his imprisonment later and ended his communication.

After a while the submarine stopped and Baal himself in Brigeport and followed the butler to a warehouse. He wondered why he hadn't just vanished and left the group behind, but he was now curious to find out who their savior was and if he was nothing more than a mortal worm. Once in the warehouse the butler introduced himself as Jenkins and explained how they were in one of the many places owned by the mysterious villain. Then the butler explained the nanites in their bodies that could kill at any moments notice. Baal was not very impressed with this fool's dependence on technology and asked the butler a question.

"please answer me this, how do you or your master know that my magic can't suck the power out these tiny machines? I could drive you both insane before you make them kill" he spoke to the butler as his eyes under his hood glowed an evil red. Baal was looking for a weakness in this man and his master's resolve, he would try to do whatever he could to manipulate this savior of theirs and have him grovel at his feet.

Riley ground her teeth as Jenkins spoke. Her skin crawled at the mention of nanites, running through her veins and tying a noose around her neck. She tried to seek comfort in the thought of their removal after the mission, but a man who would dangle a knife over their heads from the get go was just as likely to lie and double-cross. She wasn't about to take Mr Sinister's delivered word for anything. The rat.

Once Jenkin's left, Riley made her way to the bunk while some headed to the lounge. An intoxicaing drink sounded delightful, but she didn't like the idea of going on a mission tipsy. Highly unprofessional; potentially fatal too. Finding her bed, Riley plucked up the tablet Jenkins had mentioned. The technopath was a technophile too, it seemed, as Riley looked over the sleek design. A bit more digging unearthed a thick belt with small pockets sewed in a line, a rank of soldiers. Hopping back to her feet Riley quickly cast off her prison uniform, threw on a cotton singlet and pulled on boxer-shorts. Now in a decidedly comfortable outfit, she walked out the bunk, crossing some of the other Rogues but noticing no faces as she bowed her head over the screen of the tablet.

Letting her feet walk her across the warehouse and to the lounge, Riley heard some chatter - and some screaming - as her eyes slid from corner to corner, ingesting lines of information of her new comrades. Some came from scandals, from crimes. Riley rummaged noisily through the drawers with her free hand, picking out knives. She threw them upwards to watch them cartwheel, and caught them each by the handle before sheathing them in the belt slung around her waist. She smiled down at the screen as she felt her lower half grow heavy with her spoils. Ah, looting. She was back to her roots, wasn't she? Once each sheath was filled with a blade, Riley turned to lean against the counter, to commit the remaining profiles to memory.

The lounge was relatively quiet, with a muscled man filling himself with food and drink, and a blonde woman Riley recognised as Natilaya - a kind of femme fatale who'd been killing her victims after bedding them prior to prison-life - made several trips for an impressive amount of liquor. As she walked out the lounge, Riley arched a brow at her. Russian? She had the features for it.

Snapping her fingers absent-mindedly to spark them out of poor habit, Riley reached the last of the profiles and looked up from the screen to watch the blond ravenously devour his food. "Worked yourself an appetite, huh?" Riley said from her counter. She referred to the tablet again. "Karate Bastard." Riley looked at the man with a raised eyebrow to convey slight reprove, and then switched expressions to one of grimaced confusion. "I'm sorry." The apology wasn't very sincere, but Riley wasn't trying to convince him otherwise. "Can I call you Keith instead? Or Blackwell?" A sharp grin spread over her face, smoothing back the creases of the previous wince. "It's just that my mother always used to tell me not to swear."

Engrossed in his food, KB was more than a little surprised when the newcomer in the lounge spoke to him directly. He hurriedly swallowed a mouthful of beef before putting on a smile that seemed to lean more on the side of a grimace. "You can call me by whatever name pleases you, lass. They only call me that because the world of martial arts ain't a piece o' piss, you gotta be a right bastard to be the best. Join me for brekkie?" He politely waved at an unoccupied chair. KB figured that a little courtesy might not be a bad idea now. Not that he was good at making friends. But if they were stuck working together might as well try to make it pleasant.

"That stuff you do with fire- right proper flash, that. That's really the sheep's arse. Saw what you did just now with those knives, too. Beaut stuff, there. I'm sick of these drongos who only want to use guns. Guns for show, knives for a pro, eh?" KB took in her more casual clothes. He hadn't thought to look through his bunk for clothing, he was still wearing the orange bottoms of his prison uniform. He'd have to lay his hands on some more comfortable duds.

Taking a swallow of his Scotch, he charged forwards with his awkward attempt to be friendly, choosing the only subject he felt comfortable talking about. "I've done some knife fighting, here and there. Texas, Corsica, Manila, Ostrobothnia, the Pampas. Folk know what they're doing with a blade in those places, no two ways about it. What I'm saying, lass, you ever want to swap a couple tricks that'd be right by me. We could both learn something useful. I mean, a bloke never knows so much he can't learn more." He wondered what else to say, couldn't think of anything, and instead shoveled more food into his mouth.

Rose wasn't exactly pleased with the answer she got from Semyaza, she would have preferred he fight back a bit before admitting it. "Tell me, have you even known what it was like to serve someone who cared about you instead?" Rose asked him she was still trying to break him make him want to serve her. Then she got another thought, she wouldn't need him to serve her for long, just long enough to complete a ritual. "When the first mission is done, if you promise to serve me for a year I will help you free your queen." Rose added. She had always wanted a loyal and strong servant. She had servants in the past when she ran a cult devoted to her, however all of those were just humans none of them were particularly strong either.

Of course Rose had a bit more planned than just him serving, she wanted something from him. She would soon need to prolong her life again as her immortality did not come without work. And in order to do that the one thing that is required the most, is to corrupt someone pure of heart. She would have to corrupt them to the point where they would kill someone else. However this person would have to have power as well, they couldn't be just anyone. Rose also couldn't corrupt the individual directly, that was where Semyaza would come in. She needed a sort of champion to work for her and complete this task. Once the subject was corrupted she would have to take their heart and eat it, completing the ritual to prolong her life.

By now Nihil had changed into her new attire, now fully clothed. She ignored the woman cat calling her entirely, caring little for the crude gesture. She examined herself in an available mirror, brushing her hair with her hand into a more orderly fashion, then retrieving a scrunchie from the pocket of her new shorts, tying her long hair back into a ponytail. She examined her new clothing once again- A form fitting black crop top, with accompanying olive drab shorts that were, indeed, very short. On the outside her actions and attire appeared to be a bit too 'Human' for the dehumanized girl, but appearances could be deceiving. It was no secret to her that men could be distracted by her feminine qualities- an important psychological factor that could win battles. In reality she had no personal care about her appearance.

She was now prepared to reenter into the world of her comrades, as little as she cared about them. She headed into the lounge, lingering by the doorway, sniffing the air. The scent of food hung in the room, emanating from the plate of 'Karate Bastard'. She cared little for the taste of food- quite the opposite, actually, as plainer tasting food was gentler on her heightened senses. A bite into a very flavorful dish had a very real chance of causing her to vomit due to sensory overload. The other scent the prevailed was that of alcohol, something she cared little for. Naturally a soldier such as herself had no interest in inhibiting her senses. Finally she surveyed the crowd, mostly avoiding reaction to any of them, although her usual straight face may have slightly scowled when her gaze passed over Riley. I don't know why that creature would want to talk to me... it would be better for both of us if she did not.

Nihil finally entered into the room, surveying the food offerings. She derived no enjoyment from eating, but, as any human, required subsistence to live. She grabbed a plate and merely picked up two slices of plain white bread, placing them gingerly upon the dish- the mild taste would not overpower her, and the calories should satisfy her need for food. She then picked out a seat at a table a stone's throw from the bar- she had no interest in fraternizing with the other. She pulled out a chair and sat. Her manner of sitting looked almost inhuman- perfectly straight, her back didn't even rest against the back of the chair, leading one to question how such a position should be comfortable. The way she ate was equally strange, certainly without the gusto of Karate Bastard. Instead she daintily tore pieces from the bread, lifting them up to her mouth, eating in a unusually careful and controlled manner. She took care to not drift her glance towards the others, lest they think she wanted company.

"Hahahahahaha." Semyaza laughed, rising to his feet at casting his arms to the sky. "What would these earthlings be without their audacity? In this moment, with our 'benefactors' trickery literally flowing in our veins, you expect me to take another earthling at her word? Do you believe my pride so damaged by this debacle I would think nothing of betraying my fealty for honeyed words and a promise? Absurd!"

"Prove your words, earthling, and I would throw away my pride in an instant." He continued, his voice taking on a hard edge. "But I will not degrade myself a moment sooner than I believe is necessary."

Riley's wolf's grin widened at KB's invitation to dine, and she whistled lowly. "We got ourselves a gentlemanly Bastard, eh?" Even though she wasn't hungry yet, she shrugged. "Hm, why not? You don't look like you're about to murder over the dining table." Pushing herself from the counter, she walked over, and took the chair he had gestured to. Three years in a cage, and the slightest politeness bemused her to no end.

But he didn't seem the bad sort, even kickstarting this alliance with some sweet words. Riley wasn't charmed effusively by the praise, but she was beginning to think there was some potential for cooperation in this patchwork squad. Even if he used a slang that was all but Swahili to Riley. But the gist was quickly caught, and Riley laughed, an even chuckle. "Preach it, Blackwell," she said. "You're not too bad with those martial arts either. Though you should think about covering up your torso now and then," added Riley with a little chortle.

"We could both learn something useful. I mean, a bloke never knows so much he can't learn more." As Blackwell dug in again, Riley raised a brow. Now a cup that wasn't overbrimming yet with confidence and cockiness. She had missed bare-faced humility, especially when she had had only herself for company. She smiled across the table, and gave a quick wink for a handshake. Yes, Blackwell would prove tolerable yet. "Absolutely. Ring me up anytime, and we'll throw some blades around."

Deciding not to interfere with his eating, she looked up to see Nihil had entered. She still looked surly and put upon, but she had changed too into something that had Riley doing an internalised double-take. But she glanced away, after tossing a careless grin and giving a waggle of her fingers in greeting. Nihil however looked absolutely determined not to take too much notice of the other two occupants of the lounge, lest the attention be rebounded back onto her.

Riley looked over her tablet again, refreshing Nihil's information page as she heard the woman assemble a meal and find a seat - well away from them, she noted with a small smirk to herself. She found nothing on her tablet to indicate how Nihil could have possibly survived those bullets, and Riley had never been good at relinquishing a question before she found its partnering answer. For all intents and purposes, Nihil appeared to be human, a mercenary from a former life, with impeccable posture and a back stiffened as though in preparation for some hail of socialism. Riley stifled a laugh. She really oughtn't; it was just beckoning Riley to needle her more.

Riley glanced apologetically at Blackwell, hoping the conversation she was about to attempt to bridge wouldn't interrupt with his meal. "I'm still waiting for your autiobiography," Riley said in a jesting voice that carried. Oh, it was downright rude to pester someone for a past, a history, especially among Rogues with less-than-savoury backgrounds, and - for many of them - blood on their hands. But she'd be damned if she didn't find out what she wanted before her allocated nine lives ran out.

But, she reconsidered, certain formalities had to be put out of the way first. Her tone and demeanour shifting slightly - like an edgy child rustling his shoulders - she spoke in words that came in a choppy flow, "Should have said this earlier, but the chance never came about. The foam...thing, and the bullets." One hand gesticulated, as though to paint a swirling portrait of what she was trying to get at, before rising to ruffle her sheared hair - a hallmark for restlessness - as she continued stiltedly, "Thank...you, for that. Even if - nah, 'specially 'cause - it meant taking a couple shots to the back."

God, shows of gratitude were just the worst.

Earlier...

Claudia gave a slight smile, twisting a lock of her unkempt and uncut hair as the cell door creaked open by itself. Several whoops of excitement sounded from outside the cell, followed by the sounds of crunching metal as a few of the inmates took out some of the robotic guards. Claudia looked at her own hands, which were pale and weak-looking after so much time spent inside the lonely little cell. She decided that it probably wouldn't be the best idea to tackle the robots now, since "Big Red" would probably be asleep for the next few minutes.

She slowly got to her feet and staggered towards the empty door, only for the familiar feeling of burning, stabbing chest pain to overwhelm her again. Head spinning, she leaned against the door to catch her breath, feeling her neck for the device strapped around her collarbone with the tube connected to the needle embedded in an artery. "Cyka blyat," Claudia mumbled under her breath as she straightened out, trying to power through the pain. That Mr. Sinister character had said he was going to shut down all the superpower containment devices, but she couldn't tell from this angle if the collar regularly injecting her with anti-mutagenic compound was shut down or not. Either way, Claudia decided as she staggered towards staggered towards the wind tunnel, this thing would have to go.

She was more slowed down by the painful anti-mutagen then she thought. When the tunnel finally spat her out and she landed in the back of the domed room, the others were fighting the Warden already. Taking the scene in, she didn't recognize many of the other escapees in the room, although she thought the giant horned monster brawling with the Warden looked like something she saw in a horror movie once. A smoke grenade exploded in the center of the room, so Claudia took the opportunity to sneak towards the wall, well away from the fighting. She wasn't going to stand a chance against the regular robots without Big Red, so she wasn't dumb or gullible enough to go after the big one here. Until she got her old self back again, though, she could at least get this collar off. The apparatus itself was pretty easy to snap off without the security system giving her a near-lethal shock, but the needle was more of a problem. Feeling the insertion point of the needle, she almost jumped up as a grenade detonated on the wall next to her, spreading scrap metal over the ground, including a particularly sharp piece about the size of a cell phone landing in front of her feet. She swallowed, knowing what needed to come next, since the needle was too solid to cut through and couldn't be detached from the collar itself. With a stoic expression, she took the metal shard and held it to her neck, close to where the IV was attached. Hands shaking, dreadfully aware of what she had to do, Claudia closed her eyes and imagined the black haired girl with the kindest blue eyes sitting next to her, her hands wrapped comfortingly around Claudia's arm.

"I will do whatever it takes to find you, Kim..."

Claudia's scream was drowned out by the explosions and the sound of pouring water. Warm blood soaked her orange jumpsuit as the collar clattered to the ground uselessly, sickly green liquid oozing from the end of the needle. Claudia clasped a hand around her leaking neck wound and stared at the thing hatefully before realizing that the place was shifting dangerously, and the others were already gone out the front doors, leaving the suspiciously headless warden behind. Swearing, she tried to head for the exit, nearly collapsing again from another bout of stabbing, anti-mutagen induced pain. A loudspeaker somewhere overhead squawked about a Protocol Deep Sea being put into effect. With a name like that and the violent shifting of the island, it could only entail one thing.

"Of course the island sinks," Claudia said to no one in particular. "If they screwed up this badly of course they would want to bury the evidence under the ocean.

"But alas, it is time to leave," came an obnoxiously confident voice from the PDA tucked into the hip collar of her jumpsuit. "There is a sub waiting for you down by the dock." Claudia's eyes widened sharply. Submarines sunk under the water too. With a burst of manic energy, she charged for the doors and shoved them open, only to trip and tumble down the rock surface of the island, badly bruising herself in the process, and landing on her rear at the foot of the stone dock, just in time to watch the submarine dip beneath the ocean.

"No!" she shrieked after them, pounding her fists into the concrete, oblivious to the bruises and the still-bleeding neck wound. "You left me here, you bastards! YOU LEFT ME HERE TO DROWN!" She grabbed a sizable rock and lobbed it after the submarine's trail, overextending her throw and landing hard on her hands and knees. Breathing heavily, she muttered a steam of foul language as the cool water of the ocean began to lap at her clenched, bloody fists and blood from her neck wound began to pool underneath. She paused suddenly, as something clicked inside of her. The last traces of pain from the anti-mutagen faded away, and she felt a warm glow return to her chest, a feeling that had been desperately absent during her long incarceration. Claudia smiled in spite of herself. Big Red was back again.

But she still had to follow that submarine. Sure it would be easy to just abandon them and go on her merry way, but she wasn't stupid. Neither was Mr. Sinister, and she was sure that he had some way of ensuring that her and the other rogues would come along quietly. So she had to follow that submarine, and she had a pretty good idea how. She took out the PDA and held it in her hand for safe-keeping, then turned to look at the water and began to change her form.

"You know," she said aloud as her jumpsuit started to constrict and strain around her growing body, "I've always liked to go swimming..."

-----

Now

Red Wyvern managed to swim near the slow-moving submarine all the way to the shore, upon which she transformed back to normal and appeared near the back of the group as they entered the warehouse. Her jumpsuit had been shredded below the knees and above the waist by her transformation, she had lost her footwear and the stretched tank top she had on underneath was somewhat bloodstained, but she looked healthy otherwise. She listened to the butler in her usual stoicism, raising an eyebrow when he mentioned the kill-switch nanomachines. She wasn't surprised at why they were there, since it would be stupid to trust a bunch of criminals to stay and play nice, but she was curious as to what Mr. Sinister had in mind for her kill-switch. A super-concentrated dose of anti-mutagen, maybe? Either way, Claudia wasn't curious enough to throw someone across the room to find out.

When the butler finished his little speech and promptly vanished, Claudia shouldered past the group and headed straight for the bunks, where she found a pile of clothes sitting on her bed. She quickly changed out of her bloody and shredded clothes into a fresh pair of loose jeans and a gray tank top, then took a moment to soak her head in a nearby sink. Reveling in her new-found freedom, she remembered with a pang of loneliness and guilt that Red Wyvern didn't escape alongside White Wraith. No matter, she reasoned with herself. Once Mr. Sinister was satisfied and his debt fulfilled, she would find her again, and together...well, she didn't know what she would they would do once she found Kimi again, but she would know once she saw her again. The world was a confusing place, but when they were wrapped in each others arms, things just seemed to make sense in the world.

A loud growling sound shocked Claudia out of her nostalgia. She briefly looked around for the source before realizing it was her own stomach. She had forgotten how much energy Big Red burned through, and headed back to the lounge barefoot to get something to eat. Moving past the others without comment, although she shot a strange look at the woman eating two slices of bread, she loaded her plate with all the meat she could find and grabbed a bottle of coke before sitting at a table somewhat close to the shirtless karate character. She cracked open the bottle and took a healthy swig before she started to wolf down her food. It tasted like freedom, she decided. Delicious, carbonated freedom.

Nihil gave no reaction to Claudia, the newcomer who she had not counted among their initial escape group but recognized from her dossier. She payed no heed to her odd glare, instead Nihil stared pensively at Riley as she danced around trying to thank her. Nihil glared at the short-haired girl for several seconds before getting up from her seat, walking towards Riley. For a moment it appeared Nihil was merely walking past her, but she stopped, standing shoulder to shoulder with her, facing the opposite direction as her. Nihil raised her hand, placing it on Riley's shoulder with a firm grip, moving her head towards Riley's own until her mouth was up to her ear.

Nihil whispered to her slowly, "What exactly is it you want from me, Riley Pielwood? Do you want to be friends? That would be a very... 'Human' instinct. Allow me to spell this out to you: I am not a Human, nor am I like you in any way. I may at one time have been, but that has changed for me. I'll let you in on a little secret, since you seem so interested: I do not feel emotion like you do. Well, that's not exactly entirely accurate, I do feel one thing: Contempt. I feel contempt for all of those around me and for everything in this world. So, do you see now, that talking to me is a pointless endeavor? I do not need your friendship, nor your gratitude, I gain nothing from either, so it would be best for both of us if you give up on this farce." Her voice remained flat and passive the entire time. Nihil hoped the markedly over-the-top display would be sufficient to scare Riley off. She released the girl, and strode to the exit of the room. She had lost her appetite.

Riley took Nihil's glower for an answer, and was prepared to shrug it off. She could have reacted worst. There was a guy who had tried to throttle Riley while groping for his gun back in the day because of something Riley had said. She couldn't quite remember now, but she guessed - going by the way his face had contorted in blind rage - it had been a joking insinuation at his possible lack of endowment. Most people who hadn't been in the same circle Riley used to run around with hadn't seem to be able to stomach her, which made it easier to smear them away when the time and assignment with their name on the hitlist came, come to think of it.

But instead, Nihil approached Riley on her way to the door, and caught her shoulder in a grip, spilling words into the shell of her ear. Riley tensed, feeling the breath of another down her neck. Proximity was something you forgot in prison, and personal space became a permanent valuable rather than a respect. Riley listened, and when Nihil made to leave, Riley slid off the chair. She hadn't abused substances before, but she had an absolute addiction for challenges. It was why she had thrived in the gang that posed her task after task, why some part of her had died of crippling boredom while lying around in that cell.

But she certainly wasn't bored now, and god help her when her interest was piqued.

Riley followed after Nihil, and smoothly slipped between her and the door. "Are you going to ask a question and not hear the answer?" she asked, one eyebrow arched while an impertinent smile played over her lips. She kept her voice quiet, the words for Nihil to hear. "You feel contempt, I feel bored." She reconsidered, a thoughtful look passing over her face. "Well, either that, or I laugh." And she cracked a splitting grin before that too fell. Expression after expression like a rapid slideshow with no transitions. As for the gratitude," Riley raised her palms as though in defence, "you can forget it. I know I'm hoping to. The point though, is that there is no point.

"We're all stuck here, Rogue and Rogue. Yeah, bet you're not too thrilled about that but neither am I. So to answer you, Nihil, nah, I'm not looking for friendship - it's a weird thing, limits the size of your prey-pool - just a little light banter now and again. So relax a little, not gonna force you to be my pal. I'm just a human who happens to like to laugh the same way some Rogues like to hear people scream. I'm human." Riley clapped Nihil's shoulder twice, figuring that bit of familiar contact might rankle her, and tipped the corner of her lips upward. "But that ain't necessarily bad."

She took a step backward. "See you around then." Riley cocked two fingers at her, lighting the tips of them with fire as she did so, before she loped out the door easily. She slid out the yawning warehouse entrance with her belt jangling with the knives she had pilfered, and walked into the bright glare of the sun, baking the ground.

There was bound to be blank wall at the side of the warehouse where she could see if her aim had gotten rusty yet.