The X-men run missions and work together with the NYPD, striving to maintain a peaceful balance between humans and mutants. When it comes to a fight, they won't back down from protecting those who need their help.
Haven presents itself as a humanitarian organization for activists, leaders, and high society, yet mutants are the secret leaders working to protect and serve their kind. Behind the scenes they bring their goals into reality.
From the time when mutants became known to the world, SUPER was founded as a black-ops division of the CIA in an attempt to classify, observe, and learn more about this new and rising threat.
The Syndicate works to help bring mutantkind to the forefront of the world. They work from the shadows, a beacon of hope for mutants, but a bane to mankind. With their guiding hand, humanity will finally find extinction.
Since the existence of mutants was first revealed in the nineties, the world has become a changed place. Whether they're genetic misfits or the next stage in humanity's evolution, there's no denying their growing numbers, especially in hubs like New York City. The NYPD has a division devoted to mutant related crimes. Super-powered vigilantes help to maintain the peace. Those who style themselves as Homo Superior work to tear society apart for rebuilding in their own image.
MRO is an intermediate to advanced writing level original character, original plot X-Men RPG. We've been open and active since October of 2005. You can play as a mutant, human, or Adapted— one of the rare humans who nullify mutant powers by their very existence. Goodies, baddies, and neutrals are all welcome.
Short Term Plots:Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
The Fountain of Youth
A chemical serum has been released that's shaving a few years off of the population. In some cases, found to be temporary, and in others...?
MRO MOVES WITH CURRENT TIME: What month and year it is now in real life, it's the same for MRO, too.
Fuegogrande: "Fuegogrande" player of The Ranger, Ion, Rhia, and Null
Neopolitan: "Aly" player of Rebecca Grey, Stephanie Graves, Marisol Cervantes, Vanessa Bookman, Chrysanthemum Van Hart, Sabine Sang, Eupraxia
Ongoing Plots
Magic and Mystics
After the events of the 2020 Harvest Moon and the following Winter Solstice, magic has started manifesting in the MROvere! With the efforts of the Welldrinker Cult, people are being converted into Mystics, a species of people genetically disposed to be great conduits for magical energy.
The Welldrinker Cult
A shadowy group is gaining power, drawing in people who are curious, vulnerable, or malicious, and turning them into Mystics. They are recruiting people into their ranks to spread the influence of magic in the world, but for what end goal?
Are They Coming for You?
There have been whispers on the streets lately of a boogeyman... mutant and humans, young and old, all have been targets of trafficking.
Adapteds
What if the human race began to adapt to the mutant threat? What if the human race changed ever so subtly... without the x-gene.
Atlanteans
The lost city of Atlantis has been found! Refugees from this undersea mutant dystopia have started to filter in to New York as citizens and businessfolk. You may make one as a player character of run into one on the street.
Got a plot in mind?
MRO plots are player-created the Mods facilitate and organize the big ones, but we get the ideas from you. Do you have a plot in mind, and want to know whether it needs Mod approval? Check out our plot guidelines.
Isabel didn't remember having given Zephyr her contact information during their first meting, but apparently she had since he'd given her a call and requested her assistance in another job. Similar to their last meeting she'd be paid as hired muscle while he skulked around doing this or that behind the scenes. She assumed that meant talking to people and trying to negotiate. Like that had gone so well the last time he'd tried it.
She'd agreed to meet up with him a few blocks from some hospital after she'd gotten the name of the place and directions. Maybe he'd be less grumpy this time and let her have her fun without dragging her all over the city beforehand. She hoped having a set meeting place would cut out that potential problem and they could get right down to business.
As it turned out there were no apparent plans to be traveling anywhere except to the hospital. However, she suddenly didn't mind waking halfway around the city before they did anything.
"No. Nuh-uh. Absolutely not. There is no way in hell I'm wearing that."
There was a new problem. A problem in the shape of a nurse's outfit that offered very little in the way of adequate coverage. She had never seen any nurse in such an outfit ever, and she didn't plan on being the first.
"I've got a better idea. You wear that thing and I'll chat up the hospital staff instead."
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
The life of a gun for hire was rarely so romantic or exciting as it is so often portrayed in film and literature. The hours were typically poor, the company less than hospitable and the pay rarely worth the hazards involved in obtaining it. Occasionally though certain contracts could be found which possessed the potential for an unexpected windfall, or benefits beyond the scope of original adjective.
"No. Nuh-uh. Absolutely not. There is no way in hell I'm wearing that."[/color]
This was one of those times.
"I've got a better idea. You wear that thing and I'll chat up the hospital staff instead."[/color]
Leaning comfortably against the living room wall of an abandoned apartment building Zephyr kept his gaze fixed on his Chinese phrase book and forced an expression of dull indifference across his features as he sighed at the buxom brunette. There were any number of arguments he could use to dismantle the girls flat out refusal. The most tempting of which was the fact that it was hardly the most revealing outfit she'd ever donned, as any cursory internet search would quickly reveal. However given his companions disposition such an approach would likely cause her to shred the outfit she now held at arms length.
No, a slightly more subtle approach was called for if he was going to gain the shapely soubrettes consent. Reason and logic wasn't likely to work but it was as good a place as any to start things. "I shall not be 'chatting up' anyone Isabel. I'll be accessing and modifying medical records regarding the X gene status of certain influential Mafia members. The succeeding Russian leadership is almost as xenophobic of mutants as the Church of Humanity and this will go some way towards destabilizing their presence in the city."
Pausing flip a page the elemental briefly ran a finger up and down its contents before continuing. "I will also be there to provide assistance in case you have difficulty dealing with Dmitry Dotsenko who, I might remind you, is the current head of the Mafias New York branch and as such has a significant number of bodyguards outside his room at all times who tend to be armed with enough firepower to take out a dozen tanks ever since they ran afoul of your particular faction."
Marking his place and closing the book Zephyr returned it to his jacket before at last lifting his azure eyes to Isabel's face as he finished. "The best chance you have of getting close enough to take care of Dmitry and guards is that costume. Dotsenko is a known lecher and has had several 'visitors' since he was admitted; his protection detail won't think twice about you until you're too close for their guns to matter."
It was all true, to a point at least, however giving the bonemancer a full explanation likely wouldn't help matters and so he glossed over the minor details. The fact that he knew the costumes measurements, and was a healthy young man, had nothing to do with his stance on the issue in the least.
"If you have any better ideas, or think you can convincingly edit official medical records then I am all ears."
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
The level of calm the young man was displaying was highly irritating. Isabel was trying to protest. The least he could do was pretend to be interested. Briefly she debated impaling whatever book he as flipping through. However, the rather small heap of fabric that had made its way into her hands was much more concerning.
It was short, white, low cut, and had a big red cross on it. All in all it was completely horrible. And not only did she have to waltz through a hospital in it for the staff and patients to see, she had to work her way through to some pervy Mob Boss. Wonderful. Just putting it on would be bad enough. At least she'd be allowed to cut off anything that tried to touch her. And so help whoever she saw that made the mistake of holding a camera or a phone.
And so he wasn't chatting. Big deal. He was still doing something equally as boring. Have her do all the work while he goes and plays with medical records. Bah.
Unfortunately she didn't have any better ideas other than waltzing in wearing her normal clothes and going from there, but with the aforementioned firearms it wasn't the best bet. She didn't have any strong desire to repeat what had happened during their last encounter. And unless the records were still on paper, which was unlikely, she'd be at a loss as to what to do with them.
With a sigh and a mild glare back at her companion she dropped her arms and took a look around the place for a room she could duck into in order to change. "Fine. But I get to burn this thing when we're done."
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
Although he'd only known Miss Duskmoor a relatively short time Zephyr felt he'd managed to pin down the key aspects of her character quickly. To begin the girl was immensely prideful; the NYPD's inability to deal with the soubrette essentially granted the girl carte blanche to do as she liked and so she'd carved herself a reputation which generated fearful respect in those around her.
The bonemancers ability to evade consequences had also cultivated a rather short temper and a skewed moral compass. She was accustomed to getting her way and without the threat of punishment hanging over her head she simply followed the easiest path to dealing with her problems which, given her abilities, more often than not led to her eliminating what she felt to be the source of the problem.
The end result of this, interestingly, was a rather fetching young woman who'd never had to grow up. A girl with no sense of responsibility, who was use to getting what she wanted and more than eager to throw and tantrum and fight when anyone dared to cross her. The flaw with such an attitude however was that, when confronted with a problem she couldn't threaten, maim or kill, the buxom soubrette was at an almost complete loss.
That being said though you could only push someone so far. The costume had only been a last minute addition and Zephyr had fully expected it to be shredded the moment the gamine laid eyes on it, to insist that she was more than capable of dealing with a handful of hired guns or to demand that he come up with a new plan. He'd never thought that she'd actually consider wearing the thing, especially given the vehement indignation she expressed regarding her current posters.
He decided to push his luck.
Restraining the full smirk which threatened to break across his features Zephyr simply stared at his comely companion as the ingénues amber eyes glared at him with no small amount of vitriol yet made no move to speak. When the silence persisted beyond a handful of seconds the elemental merely raised a questioning eyebrow at the gamine, prompting the bonemancer to drop her gaze back to the salacious garment in question before her a short sigh escaped her as her shoulder slumped and her arms fell.
"Fine. But I get to burn this thing when we're done."[/color]
The curt statement was accompanied by a rather reduced glare in the hessian's direction. This ended almost before it had begun as the shapely soubrette reluctantly started to scan the room, presumably for some form of privacy in which to don her 'disguise'. Whatever the case it gave the elemental time to mask his disbelieving expression before he also began to glance about.
All in all the room didn't have much to offer; one of the reasons the building had been scheduled for demolition was because someone had apparently decided to start the process themselves. Doors were fragmented if not altogether missing, walls were cracked and generally gaping while the floors, although mostly present, tended to creak ominously at the slightest provocation or none at all.
In short, the place made a less than ideal changing room.
There was a moment's pause as the elemental briefly debated trying to stretch his already strained luck further however the mutinous look in his partners eyes led him to conclude that there was little point risking what he'd managed thus far and so he simply inclined his head and told her he'd wait on the floor below before making his way to the stairs.
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
Well at least the jerk had enough decency to leave her be while she changed. Not that she would have made a single move to do so while he was still there anyhow. Still, not wasting her energy on a screaming match she couldn't back up with a good mauling would have gotten tiresome very quickly. It was unlikely he would have agreed to pay her or let her play with the mobsters if she put a hole in his torso. She also rather enjoyed her ability to breathe freely.
Maintaining her mild glare as she watched him exit the room Isabel waited moment until his footsteps faded a bit before scanning to room once more. The place was a total mess. He could have at least had her meet him in a place that had a decent door for her to hide behind while she changed into the poor excuse of a dress. Jackass.
Glancing back in the direction her companion had disappeared, she decided she'd duck into an adjoining room anyhow. The one with the most pieces of a door left to it. Just in case.
It took a few minutes, partly due to chasing off a rat that decided to pop up, and mostly due to how damn tight the stupid outfit was, but she was finally able to wriggle into the damn thing and give it a moment of proper loathing.
Without any other shoes to wear, she slipped her boots back on, not caring that they probably looked rather silly with the rest of the outfit. Her shirt and pants were slung over her shoulder as she carefully picked her way back through the two rooms, out into the hallway and downstairs to meet up with her partner. She hated the costume more and more with every slightly restrained step.
"This sucks," she stated, slowing to a stop a few feet from him and crossing her arms. This was not going to be as much fun as just waltzing in and maiming everyone. Subtlety was not her thing, but at the moment she'd have taken it. There was an element of sneakiness to the whole process, sure, but the type of attention she'd no doubt be drawing was far from the attention-grabbing method of her choice.
"Can we just go now? I don't want to be stuck in this stupid thing a second longer than I have to be."
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
Waiting a few feet from the bottom of the stairs Zephyr had once again withdrawn the spiral bound phrase book from his pocket. His azure eyes skimmed over words while his lips silently shaped the foreign phrases with a habitual familiarity which made the process almost automatic. Coincidentally, this allowed his sixth sense to occupy the preponderance of his attention, letting the elemental remain acutely aware of his surroundings, including the floor above where the shapely brunettes disrobing figure was a glaring silhouette to his senses.
Eventually though the bonemancer finished changing and moved back into the hessians vision as she reached the top of the stairs and slowly began to make her way down. Sweeping his gaze up and then down Zephyr found little disagreeable with the sight before him.
Her cheeks were flushed pink and her arms were wrapped stubbornly around her midsection. The affect of the cool afternoon air was evident on her exposed skin, of which there was a substantial amount. Her shoulders were all but bare; a thin scarlet strap ran down each one to support the front of the garment which sloped low enough to reveal an alluring expanse of pale flesh, only just rising high enough to cover two noticeable points which it otherwise made no effort to conceal.
As his eyes swept lower, a large and somewhat tasteless red cross could be seen emblazoned beneath the left breast, yet the dress still somehow managed to hug the buxom soubrettes upper contours in a manner which emphasized her voluptuous figure. The costumes hem did similarly with her callipygian physique, reaching down to just scarcely contain her supple derriere, though it rose enticingly with each step the girl took, affording a view which Zephyr was not above appreciating.
"This sucks,"[/color]The remark was delivered alongside a mixed expression of embarrassment and contempt as the gamine re-crossed her arms, ruining the elementals rather appealing view of her cleavage and bringing his gaze back to meet her own amber eyes as he raised an eyebrow at her once again before responding with only a hint of amusement.
"I daresay that's one of the thing's the designer had in mind."
"Can we just go now? I don't want to be stuck in this stupid thing a second longer than I have to be."[/color]
Tilting his head at his companion the amused expression didn't stray from Zephyr's face. Now that they knew the dress would fit there was little practical reason for the soubrette to continue wearing it until they reached the hospital. It would attract far more attention on the streets than they needed, and the girls temper was unlikely to survive the numerous propositions and catcalls such an outfit was bound to receive. The last thing he needed was for her to start a fresh killing spree before they even reached the hospital.
"If, that's what you want." He began, speaking slowly as he picked his words with care. "However I thought you might prefer to change back and then put the dress on once you were in the hospital. It would save you a good deal of... attention."
"I was planning to head out before you in any case to avoid suspicion, so it wouldn't be a problem..."
Trailing off Zephyr shifted his gaze away from the gamines face as he glanced at his watch and again resisted the urge to smirk; one of the bonemancers incidental benefits, aside from her figure, was that her reactions in situations like this tended to be quite entertaining.
Isabel blinked. The designer? Did he honestly just say that? Ugh! She was torn between the urge to stab him and the desire to just curl up and die of embarrassment right where she was. As if it wasn't bad enough that she'd agreed to the stupid outfit, he had to go and make fun of her at the same time. She was so going to get him back for that at some point.
That smug little smirk of his and the way his gaze kept wandering was helping her lean toward stabbing.
She expected him to agree with her and start heading out to the hospital. Once it finally got down to business, he didn't seem like one to take things very lightly. Sure, he'd dragged her around the city the first time she'd run into him, but when it finally came to confronting the gang members, he was all fireballs and showmanship. She hadn't expected him to suggest she change out of the costume.
She hadn't even had to put it on yet. He'd planned on having her wear it once they'd reached the hospital. He knew this and let her change into the damn thing where they were anyhow.
"I didn't eve-... What?" she sputtered, staring at him in disbelief as her face got even hotter. What?! I didn't even have to put this thing on yet? You couldn't have told me that before?! What he hell?!"
Definitely stabbing later.
With a huff and a murderous glare, she went about pulling her boots back off and letting them drop on the floor with a loud thud. Continuing with a series of quick, flustered movements she pulled her shirt on and then her pants. She had only a minor bit of trouble maneuvering the hem of the skirt once she'd gotten her bottoms on to make walking a bit less restricted. There was no way she was putting that outfit on a second time. Once she'd gotten out of it, it would be garbage.
"If you wanna leave before me, you'd better do it. You are so very close to losing a lung."
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
"I didn't eve-... What? What?! I didn't even have to put this thing on yet? You couldn't have told me that before?! What he hell?!"[/color]
Laughing, would be an extremely poor decision Zephyr reminded himself yet again as he took in his companions increasingly crimson features and her expression of utter disbelief. Openly antagonizing the girl hadn’t been wise to start but he severely doubted that what little patience she had left would last long in the face of open laughter. Although possible, it wasn’t likely she could kill him, however in close quarters like this she’d be more than able to inconvenience him, by refusing to cooperate further if nothing else.
The hessian knew this, had realized it since he’d first worked with the soubrette, yet the gamine’s attire, or lack of it, made it exceedingly difficult to take her seriously. Admittedly his attitude would possibly change if she started sprouting spikes, but until then it took a significant amount of self-control for the elemental to keep his shoulders still and prevent his lips from smirking more than already were, yet he couldn’t quite manage to keep the trace of .
“I wasn’t certain it would fit,” He stated nonchalantly, the half-truth coming easily as he shrugged and held the gamines eyes. “and I rather doubted you’d have given me your measurements if I asked. Would you have preferred to find a potential problem now, or at the hospital?”
A black look was the only response he received and any further comments from the hessian were cut short as the shapely brunette abruptly seemed to start undressing in front of him. Demonstrating a surprising degree of flexibility despite the constraining costume as she removed her boots, again presenting the elemental with a brief but enviable view before the show abruptly ended as the girl began throwing on her normal attire over top of her revealing outfit.
"If you wanna leave before me, you'd better do it. You are so very close to losing a lung.[/color]
The elemental’s lips twitched as he spent a further moment watching the buxom gamine fight a short struggle with her buttons before he replied in a purposely urbane tone which still carried a hint of amusement. “You needn’t worry about that Isabel; you’ve more than taken my breath away as you are.”
Then he turned on his heel and made his way out.
--
The hospital, like most of its kind, was an example of poorly controlled chaos. No attempt was made to try and track the mass of people who came and went with the end of the normal work day. Zephyr was simply another face among the crowd as he strode through the sliding doors and made his way to the nearest directory listing where a cursory review failed to find either record storage or the onsite IT department.
Happily however a quick sweep of the building with his spatial awareness revealed the type of well-ventilated environment commonly needed for computer servers and other technological hardware. From that point it was simply a case of following the trail of air to the nearest stairwell.
Almost idly, he wondered when the screaming would start.
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
After pacing back and forth in the downstairs area of the rundown building for a good ten minutes or so, spewing a few choice words about the idiotic jackass of a business partner that had exited before her, Isabel finally set out after him, mumbling and grumbling through her entire trek to the hospital. She was so going to get back at him somehow.
The first thing she always noticed about hospitals, whenever she had the misfortune of ending up in one, was the smell. Everything smelled much too clean. Unnaturally so. However, even the scent of disinfectant couldn't completely overpower the underlying smell of sickness. It put her very much on edge. Almost without realizing it, she picked up her pace a little, wanting to get in and out as quickly as possible.
Finding the correct room number was a bit of a challenge, but the pair of suit-wearing goons posted outside the door was a good hint when she finally found it. They didn't look so intimidating to her. They couldn't possibly have been as well-armed as Zephyr had said. And by now she wouldn't put it past him to be making up details.
Reluctantly ducking into the nearest supply closet she could find, Isabel rather sluggishly stripped off her normal clothing and placed it in a neat pile on one of the shelves with the most open space. She left her boots on the floor and removed her hair ribbon for good measure. She didn't particularly like parting with her favored hair accessory, but if the mobsters were as well-acquainted with the Order as she'd been told they were, it would likely give her away before she could get very close.
Heaving a sigh, she poked her head out of the closet and waited for a few nurses to disappear down the hallway. The fewer people that saw her in such a ghastly outfit, the better. After another moment's hesitation she finally made her way out into the corridor, doing her best to swallow her embarrassment and saunter her way down toward the targeted room. There wasn't much she could do about the color of her face.
The two goons outside the door didn't seem like they'd be much of a problem. One had slipped his hand inside his suit jacket, presumably to get a grip on some concealed weapon. The other seemed as if he'd begun to drool. It almost hurt trying to keep an expression of utter disgust from creeping onto her face and instead put a false smile in its place.
The man with a hand on his gun visibly relaxed as the realization dawned upon him that Isabel was likely one of the Boss's little visitors. Once his hand reappeared from beneath his jacket, she advanced toward the door where she'd have to pass between the two of them.
Purposely she brushed a shoulder along the side of one man, the other making a grab at her backside with rather fortunate timing. His hand was promptly severed before he even realized that his companion had also been injured. A nice gash was left along goon number one's side courtesy of a quickly sprouted blade from her shoulder.
They were minor enough wounds in her book, but they would keep the pair occupied at least long enough for her to walk past them into the Boss's room and close the door, locking it behind her.
It smelled even sicker in the somewhat small room. She didn't have to mask her disgust this time. The men outside were shouting for various reasons, so their Boss already knew something was up.
Fun Fact about he bedridden: They aren't the best candidates for making a quick getaway. It also helps when they're overweight, as is stereotypical of Mob Bosses.
Offing hospital patients wasn't very difficult, particularly when they are hooked up to a machine to aid them in breathing. All she had to do was step on a little tube and watch him begin to flounder. He floundered himself right off the bed and when she'd gotten bored of watching the little show, she dispatched him with a well-placed, spiked kick.
She unlocked the door and turned the knob, skittering back as the pair outside fell in, having been shoving and banging at the door for the past few minutes. One ended up with a hole in the back of his skull. The other, a gash across his midsection.
Quickly she made her way back to where she's stashed her clothes. She swapped outfits eagerly and then headed for the nearest exit. All the noise the two grunts had been making was going to draw a lot of attention from the hospital staff.
The poor excuse for a dress that had been given to her was balled up in her fist. She'd have to burn it elsewhere. Maybe on Zephyr's doorstep, should she ever learn where he lived.
Posted by Maxine Ralls on Aug 20, 2011 11:33:08 GMT -6
Gamma Mutant
379
3
Jul 27, 2018 20:37:07 GMT -6
Calley
((ooc: Issie, do tell me if I should edit anything.))
Maxine got moving early, and tended to work late. It left little time in her schedule for MRI scans. Especially when she really, really didn’t want one.
“Just relax, Ms. Ralls. Are you certain you have nothing metallic...?”
“He’s down the hall,” the red head said, a little more snappily than she needed to. “Can we… get this over with?”
“Just hold still.”
Two concussions in a year, and headaches that were a lot worse since that last one. Turns out her doctor didn’t like the sound of that. Maxine held still as the machine whirred to life around her, taking pictures of her head. There were a lot of people who’d never let her live that down, if they knew.
No one needed to know.
Down the hall, meanwhile, her ‘metallic object’ was in a specimen container inside of her purse inside of a supply closet. Had been, anyway. Octosaurus Rex had dealt with the container’s lid; the purse zipper was an old friend, and easily opened. The octoclip was currently sitting on the lower shelf of a cart, toying with the camera it had freed from Maxine’s purse. It had gotten bored of her lipstick, after it stopped leaving red marks on the wall.
Shutter: a row of clean linen.
Shutter: the wheels of the cart.
Shutter: feet coming inside.
Shutter: a view looking up, as clothing came down.
Shutter: a derriere, with dress hem hiked up.
Shutter: a vexed expression far up, just visible over a hillside view.
Shutter: a determined backside, exiting.
Shutter: a green bow, atop a pile of clothing.
Down the hall, Maxine banged her head against the top of the MRI machine when the screaming started.
Technology has improved a good deal of things for many organizations, if properly implemented it can reduce redundancy, improvement the collation of information, allow for greater analysis and hasten the overall decision process. Which in essence allows an entity to cut costs, raise prices and generally do far more with what they already have. Sadly though a great many companies simply stop there and never concern themselves with the needs of security, a flaw which Zephyr was more than willing to exploit.
The hospitals server room turned out to be incredibly accommodating in this regard. Located in the facilities second basement level the area carried the air of a prison and, not surprisingly, was largely deserted. Admittedly the door had been a rather heavy duty item given that it was meant to be fire proof and had been supplemented with an electronic card reader, however a short downdraft of air to the interior handle caused it to swing open with little inconvenience.
The servers themselves were not much more of a challenge, a USB thumb drive containing custom program he'd purchased from a more tech savvy acquaintance allowed him to reboot a terminal and bypass the majority of the security by granting him administrator access. From that point it was simply a case of going down the list he'd been given and altering the necessary records.
Zephyr had actually been exaggerating slightly when he'd told Isabel that the successor to Mafia's New York branch was prejudice against mutants. The man had no love for them after the beating he and his team had taken when they'd failed to wipe out the Sanctuary's residents and instead taken a severe beating, however he could work with them, at least currently. Popular thought though was that what limited tolerance Dotsenko Jr. possessed would disappear when he learned that Miss Duskmoor had killed his defenseless father.
A moments curiosity caused the hessian to pause as he finished modifying the last of the files. While he knew where in the hospital Dotsenko Sr. had been confined he didn't actually know why. It was a passing interest, but one which was easily fulfilled as the elemental adroitly brought up the ailing gangsters file and scanned his recent history for an indication of his current status, only to frown when he noticed that the recorded location for his medication delivery differed from his official room assignment...
Imagine that, a criminal entity with a grasp of subtlety. What was the world coming to?
This could complicate things, if Duskmoor only killed a decoy then the Mafia would move their current leader to a far more secure location which would make removing a far more difficult prospect. Technically the hessian could deal with the old man himself, however asphyxiation was unlikely to be attributed as a mutant killing and in any case the elemental had little desire for the Mafia to place a bounty on his head.
No, Isabel needed to do the kill. Her unique methods were widely recognized and she was more than capable of dealing with the vast majority of those who tried to claim what price was put to her. The only problem was finding the girl and getting her to the real target before SWAT showed up en mass. Regardless of the brunettes track record against them in the past a new killing spree wasn't part of the assignment.
Leaving the server room at a wind assisted sprint Zephyr raced back to the ground floor. He needed to catch his partner before she wreaked too much havoc, or worse, left entirely. Ideally she'd have her cell phone on and he'd be able to call her once he reached the ground floor and got a signal, just in case though he'd also begun to flashing through a scan of each level with his spatial senses to find the soubrettes distinctive figure.
As it turned out he was lucky. The screams had only just started to echo from above when his phone finally got reception and managed to get a call through to the gamine. The moment she answered the hessian began talking in a rushed murmur.
"What did Dotsenko look like? If he wasn't thin with a grey goatee then all you've dealt with is a decoy."
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
This had to be one of the easiest escape attempts Isabel had dealt with in her criminal life thus far. She hadn't crossed paths with a single security guard just yet, and found that doctors and nurses seemed very unwilling to get in her way. The only problem she seemed to find herself with was finding the correct corridor to take that would lead her to an exit. The damn building was like a maze. If she could just find a stairwell or something, she'd be golden.
She was just taking another corner when her phone started buzzing in her pocket. Mumbling, grumbling, and generally cursing to herself she stumbled to a stop and struggled to pull her phone out of her pocket while trying to figure out what to do with the damn dress balled up in her hands. Who the hell could be calling her now of all times?
"What?" she growled into the phone, not having immediately recognized the number that had been displayed on the outer screen. It was Zephyr again, and he had something to tell he that she didn't want to hear.
"What?! she repeated, stopping to glance around the hallway she was in as if it'd help her locate the room she was apparently supposed to have found. "Thanks for telling me there was a decoy before we friggin got here! Where the hell is the guy I'm supposed to kill, then?"
Regardless of where she was supposed to be, she kept moving. She just wasn't looking or the stairs anymore. She didn't feel quite comfortable sitting still. There was no doubt someone would have at least called the cops by now, so she would be running on limited time if her companion wanted them in and out with as little slaughter as possible.
"Tell you what, why don't you come find me and you can point out what room I'm supposed to be getting into. Or get me a number or something. Be useful!" See if she'd help him with another job if he was so ill-prepared this time.
With a huff she hurried through a sort of small lobby or something with a big desk, presumably where the nurses sat and did paperwork or something equally as boring. Fed up with shifting the fabric around in her hands, she tossed the poor excuse for a dress in the nearest trashcan she came across. She'd burn something else in it's stead later on. Maybe her companion's jacket.
As expected his partners response was less than enthusiastic and Zephyr wisely used the time she spent berating him over the phone to enter an elevator and catch up with where he'd felt her on the 20th floor. There was little point in trying to get a word in edgewise with the soubrette as she was, they'd simply end up getting into an argument and wasting seconds they couldn't afford to lose.
By the time the gamine had finally spent her initial ire and actually gotten to the point of essentially asking what she needed to do next the elevator had emptied since few people were interested in going towards the source of the screaming and thus Zephyr was able to speak freely. While it was tempting to turn the girls words round on her it was a luxury he'd have to do without. Instead the ingénue received a more laconic form of instruction.
"He's on the 14th floor in room 1413. The corridor to your left connects to a stairwell, take it down six levels and when you leave go right, you should be able to follow the room numbers from there. I'm sending you his picture and I'm on my way up but I won't interfere unless I have to."
Without closing the call the hessian managed to send the aforementioned image and shift the phone back to his ear to catch any further questions the gamine might have. At the same time he hit a button closer to his current floor causing letting him get out on the tenth floor where he began to make his way to an empty patient room.
The hessian had no intention of actually meeting Isabel on the 14th level, the chance that he'd be spotted and then associated with her wasn't something he was willing to risk at this stage. In any case as long as he stayed in touch and continued to give her directions and logistics he doubted she'd notice his physical absence.
Stepping inside the unoccupied patient room Zephyr locked the door behind him before resting his back against it and swallowing a pair of pills before shutting his eyes. He was going to pay for this later, medication or not, large scale spatial awareness wasn't something the physical mind was meant to handle. Still if he could keep Isabel abreast of everything that was relevant in the facility there was still a chance they could leave without too much notice.
Attaching a blue tooth headset to his ear the mercenary slowly sank down until he was sitting against the base of the door. A deep breath left him as he began to ignore his other senses and focused only on his element.
In the distance he felt, rather than heard, the sirens as they began to close in and he swore silently before informing his petulant companion.
"We have about three minutes before company arrives."
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."
Isabel didn't have time to ponder how her companion knew where she was in order to direct her to her intended target. At the time she didn't particularly care, either. All she wanted to do was stab the guy and get out, avoiding the cops if at all possible. She, of course, wouldn't be opposed to cutting down a few of the boys in blue on her way out if it came to that, but with how big the hospital was she figured it's be just as easy to lose them if and when she found that stairwell Zephyr had mentioned.
Mumbling the directions she'd been given to herself in order to remember them, she made her way to the correct floor as quickly as possible, skipping steps and all but sprinting down corridors as she went. Apparently Zephyr had actually found some useful information when he was browsing whatever files he'd targeted. That, or he'd assumed she could somehow find the right guy without being privy to that information he may have had beforehand. The picture was a nice tidbit to add.
3... 5... 7... 9... 11... 13! The familiar sight of bodyguards would have helped even if she hadn't been given a specific room number. Mr. Mob Boss had probably caught wind of the commotion and had made sure to post some muscle outside his door. Not that it mattered much to her. What were thugs with guns to someone who was a walking weapon in and of herself?
Her companion's warning of a time limit sounded in her ear before she shoved her phone back in her pocket without even bothering to hang it up. She'd need to be able to speak to him quickly if she wound up feeling cornered and needed his assistance. Plus, if he wasn't going to be there otherwise, he could at least enjoy the audio.
Not bothering to slow her pace, she sprouted a blade from each hand and went after the guards at the door. There weren't any more than the original room she'd visited. It was bad enough advertising that there was someone important in the room with only two guards without clogging up the hallway with more. They would jut get in each other's way if that were the case.
The men were quick enough to draw their guns, but their accuracy suffered in their haste. She felt a bullet graze one of her shoulders as others embedded themselves into doors and walls. She didn't give the men any time to hit her again. She left them lying on the floor with gashes down their middles while she picked the lock on the door and entered.
Sure enough the intended target was in the room, sitting bolt upright in the bed, having heard the commotion outside his door. He was in much better shape than the other individual she'd dispatched, but he was still in a confined room with a killer, appearing to have only a small pistol at his disposal.
With a bit of a grin Isabel rushed him, leaving him very little time to react and no time to effectively get out of her path. She cut him up much like his hired help, but not before he managed to fire his gun. At such a close proximity he was more successful than the two individuals on the floor outside.
He'd managed to hit her chest, just below her collar bone on the left side. Being so close and having only a hastily constructed layer of protection, the force of the bullet was enough to split the bone beneath her skin. She had enough protection to prevent the invading object from going more than a half an inch past her flesh, but the sheer force of the shot was enough to knock the wind out of her for a moment.
She paused to catch her breath and pick the bullet out of the wound, the warning she'd been given earlier echoing in the back of her mind. She had to find her companion and get moving before the police had time to reach her.
Fishing her phone out of her pocket as she made her her way back out into the hallway, she checked to make sure the connection was still there before bringing it to her ear. "Okay, now I've got the right guy. Where am I going from here? I know where the stairs are and can get out from there. Am I supposed to meet you somewhere or something?
I’m just a well-adjusted gal who likes to leave a serious amount of mayhem in her wake.
While the human mind is an incredible thing it does have limits; attempting to track over 100 independent and unpredictable variables is one of them. Human consciousness simply cannot operate quickly enough to process so many factors in a real time setting. Granted a good number of said factors were confined to beds and thus excluded from the equation but there were far more individuals wandering the mass of hallways and corridors. Accounting for all of them moment by moment would have been impossible.
Zephyr didn’t even try. The elemental knew full well how futile such a task would be. Past experience had taught him that, while his spatial awareness was a most versatile ability, it had an affect akin to overclocking his mind. He could only devote so much attention to his ethereal perception for so long before the usual humming pain which came from his powers became overly inhibiting. Admittedly he could offset and suppress the migraines to a degree but it never achieved complete solace.
This was why the elemental limited his unique ‘view’ of the hospital to his companion’s floor and a handful of levels above and below her. The brief but bloody confrontation between Duskmoor and the Mafia agents had played across his mind’s eye as though it were some twisted shadow puppet performance in three dimensions, complete with audio courtesy of the soubrette’s negligence with her phone.
There had been a handful of bullets tearing through the air were highlighted in his awareness like lingering lightning, each one largely failing to find their mark before the bonemancers shapely silhouette had fallen upon the weapons owners and rent their forms with simple, if exaggerated, movements. Dotsenko himself fell just as quickly though the man managed a somewhat more precise shot before he died which hit the voluptuous gamine at all but point blank range and left her with a worrying posture for a few short seconds.
Eventually though the ingénue straightened and it became evident her condition was copacetic for the moment. The girls typical brash Boston brogue echoed in his ear again soon after as she again asked for instructions. A cursory scan of her floor revealed that a good number of individuals had taken the screaming accompanying Isabel’s actions as an excuse to vacate the area or barricade themselves in a room. As always though there a small number of curiously suicidal individuals who’d chosen to approach the source of the dying screams and were gradually closing in on the soubrettes room.
The girl needed an exit, however the front doors were almost certainly not an option; the distinctive blare of the NYPD’s sirens were annoyingly shrill at this point and only getting louder as they closed in on the hospital. If the gamine was going to avoid another killing spree she needed an alternative exit, preferably one that also wouldn’t put her in the path of the aforementioned curiously suicidal inviduals.
Fortuitously, Zephyr just so happened to have such an exit in mind.
“That will depend on how quickly you can move.” He told her in an even tone as he briefly extended the range of his awareness. “For now, I'd advise locking or barricading the door to the room; a few curious idiots are going to try and get in and they’re not worth dealing with. You can use the window behind you to leave. If you make your way to the back face of the building you’ll be less obvious and from there you can either make use of other rooftops or the back streets.”
Taking a slow, quiet breath, the elemental raised a hand to bridge of his nose and rested his head against the door behind him. It had only been a few short minutes and already his skull had acquired a noticeable pulsing agony. He'd need to stop soon. Preferably before the NYPD made their imminent appearance.
"Will that suffice?"
Cafas: "Zephyr is the king of bad decisions, but if Sebby being weak to ghost is anything to go by, not so amazing at follow through."