For once, Danny wasn't in some sort of situation that would end in his death.

Hah, yeah, right.

To be honest, Danny was actually parked outside a crappy-looking warehouse concealing some sort of underground casino. He had to make money somehow, and as he didn't want to piss off any fellow mutants, he would have to target bad humans.

Namely, the humans that ran the mob that ran this casino.

He probably did look suspicious to any passerby - sitting on his motorcycle, parked in a dark alley by a dumpster and doing absolutely nothing, wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses. At night. (He did look more like a douche than anything, though.) But nobody was passing by at this time of night, so far into the shady warehouse district of town - at least, nobody he could see. He got off the motorcycle anyway, deciding it was probably high time to go in, and scaled the fire escape of the building next to the warehouse. It was easy enough to leap from the roof of that to the roof of his destination, and he quietly made his way across the corrugated metal, heading towards a convenient rooftop door he'd located on some blueprints.

Upon arrival, he wasn't too surprised to see that the door was there because the roof had a helicopter landing pad for some reason. Damned rich mobsters. The door was easy, though - to pick, that is, and with that, Danny was in.

The back of the warehouse seemed to have been renovated a bit - it had corridors and rooms in contrast to the big open space and the front which held the casino, and so he slipped into a closet of some sort, pulling a map scrawled onto a napkin quietly out of his pocket to determine his next move.

In another room not to far down the hall....


"Listen Romeel, 'tis honorable thing you do for Claudia. But in my country debts die with person.. no need to linger on money owed to dead people." His accent was thicker then the gel used to slick his hair .Best way to sum him up, your typical hairy cookie cutter Russian gangster. Mustache, hairy chest, it's not that Rummy had anything against Russian's; but lets be honest. James Bond, Rocky, and the cold war has kinda imprinted a bad light on them in most of our minds. Add in a cheesy looking office with a large window over looking the casino, a few armed guards, money and you cookie cutter Russian mobster and you have you basic set up for any action movie in the 90's. Viktor continued to move around his office fluidly as if he refused or was to busy to give Rummy the time.



"Yes, but as heir to Ms. Dupree's estate, you now owe me the money. And I'm very much alive." Rummy leaned forward shifting his weight in the black leather chair, his elbows leaning on his knees; better positioning his body so his words were delivered clear. "So why don't we for go the bull shit and you just give me the fifty-thousand. You owe me."  He stood, the guards anxiously flinching as he hands reached to adjust his jeans. He had come here straight from the bus station, allowing time in case there was police heat from his meal earlier. "You make good money here V. And fifty k isn't worth people dying over." speaking as he returned to his seated position.



The shift in his tone and body language had created a bit of tension in the room. Viktor eyed his thugs before wiping his face and answering.
It was clear he was being challenge, and Russian are such proud people, challenges are not taken lightly.

"You were merely child, when I worked with that whore Dupree. I will pay you nothing. I owe you nothing. You think because yur mutant, and worked with that b!%ch you can just order me 'round?! " His face was starting to become flustered with anger. "Leave...while you can boy."

[OOC: Sorry for the uncharacteristically long post - feel free to write significantly less if you want.]

So. The map Danny had wasn't really the most helpful thing - he knew where everything was except the money. And that was kind of the important part. As he squinted down at the extremely messy map, he decided on moving down the hallway to his right as his best course of action, and proceeded to do just that.

Tucking the napkin back into his coat, he opened the door the tiniest bit and peered out into the hallway, and upon seeing nobody, moved out and started heading down to his right. The hall ended in a turn to the left, and he peered around the corner, seeing two burly men standing in front of a suspiciously wooden door. And by suspiciously wooden, Danny meant that it looked as if the door cost more than his motorcycle. And his motorcycle was damn expensive (by twentieth century standards, and not factoring in inflation, but still). His suspicions were confirmed when he took out his napkin-map and read the chickenscratch label on the room he was looking at, partially obscured by the name of the coffee shop he'd drawn the map up at - the boss's office. Good. If there was a safe, it would be in there.

Danny returned his map to its pocket and promptly swept around the corner, with enough arrogance and intent that the guards ignored him - thinking, however briefly, that he belonged there - and by the time one of them registered he wasn't somebody they knew, he didn't even have a chance to protest before Danny came at him with a swinging uppercut, impacting his jaw with an audible crack and knocking him out cold. The other guard started to yell and pull out his gun, but before anyone could be alerted by the noise, Danny lunged forward and jabbed his right arm against the man's throat - a better alternative to covering the man's mouth to keep him quiet. His shout was immediately cut off with a choke, and Danny twisted around, planting his right foot a little in front of the feet of his target, and grabbed him, executing a neat takedown, throwing the guard down to the ground over his outstretched leg. He went down with a thud, and Danny winced, hoping that nobody inside heard it - sadly unlikely, considering that as he confronted the pair of guards, he had been able to clearly hear the boss speaking to somebody who he had identified as a fellow mutant. Well, what a happy coincidence, but Danny doubted it'd help him.

As somebody inside said, "Did you hear something?" Danny pressed a knee to his prone opponent's throat, and the man's hands scrabbled at his leg, trying desperately to get air. Eventually, his arms went slack, and Danny slowly lifted his knee up, seeing the guard was definitely unconscious. But now it was time to move, because he could hear the boss - Viktor, was it? Ugh, he'd remembered wincing at the sheer Russian-ness of the name, as if the leader of a Russian mob would be called Jim or something - telling someone to go check the hallway. There was no time to hide the unconscious bodies, so Danny did the next best thing - he scrambled into the supply closet across from the office. Wow, there were a lot of supply closets in this warehouse.

Except, it wasn't a supply closet. It was a room of Russian brick walls playing poker and smoking, and they all turned their heads to stare at him when he barreled in.

Not sixty seconds later, he found himself on his knees in front of the desk of Viktor, arms tied behind him and a gun held to his head, as the boss himself stared judgmentally down at him.

(On a side note, there was an almost hilariously out-of-place large painting of a cat hanging on the wall, and Danny was a hundred percent sure that was where the safe was.)

"Well," Viktor said, leering, with an accent so thick Danny was relatively convinced it was fake and only for show. Also, he was pretty sure that accent was Romanian, not Russian. "Vat do ve haff here?"

"That is possibly the most stupidly massive amount of hair gel I've seen in my life," Danny retorted. "I mean, seriously, it's not like you even have that much hair to gel up to begin with. Is this some sort of mid-life crisis you're having?"

Within the next thirty seconds, he found himself gagged as well. Clearly, his plan for them to shoot him was not moving as fast as he'd hoped. He glared with irritation at Viktor, only then noticing the other mutant out of the corner of his eye. Well. He was clearly a mutant, that was for sure.

"Can we kill him, boss?" a common goon said, interrupting Danny's vaguely creepy attempts to discern the full nature of the red guy's mutation through only staring.

Viktor didn't respond, much to Danny's irritation. It looked as if his mid-life crisis comment may have hit harder than intended.

This was beginning to get ridiculous. Danny wanted to try to reach for his self-destruct button, but he didn't want to hurt the red guy if he was innocent. Looked as if he'd just have to wait it out, then.

Rummy's lips parted, just as he ruckus outside began. The tension within the room was already thick, and the disturbance beyond the door didn't help relax things. The five armed guards in the room aimed their barrels anxiously at the door, one shifted in his position nervously.

"Seems your men are a little jumpy tonight V, you worried about something?" Rummy seemingly unnerved by all the action; although he wasn't a fan of surprises...especially when guns and money were involved. Viktor eyed him down searching his demeanor for any sign Rummy was involved, before dismissing to men to check the area. "Maybe you got a rat problem..?" He joked, standing up from his chair.

Before long four guards(two of them giants) reentered tossing a teen-idol looking boy to the floor "Yeah, a rather large rodent problem." Smiling down at the child.

Viktor slowly walked up yo bound and gagged teen. "Well,Vat do ve haff here?"

"That is possibly the most stupidly massive amount of hair gel I've seen in my life, I mean, seriously, it's not like you even have that much hair to gel up to begin with. Is this some sort of mid-life crisis you're having?" The captive replied, obviously not concerned or to stupid to realize his position. But he was funny, and Rummy couldn't help but chuckle, before one of the guards stuffed a sock into the man's mouth.

"Can we kill him, boss?" The goon, responsible for the sock asked all to willingly; probably because the irritation of tonight's events was very evident on Viktor's face.The answer was clear they were just waiting on the reply

"Before you redecorate, you carpet and what not, if you'll just give me whats mine ,I'll be on my way. Rummy approached, stepping between Viktor, the goon and the kid. I've had a busy night and I'd like to get going..."

"A'gen vit money! I told you alretti I vasn't faying you Shyt!" His mout foamed, as he spoke his accent reacting to his anger. He spat his words at Rummy, literally. Droplet of saliva flying inches from his face. Viktor mumbled something in Russian and the sounds of rounds being chambered filled the room.

'Unfortunate...' Rummy thought. Negotiations were proving a waste and it was time to take control of things, literally.

Ew. Ew, ew, sock. It was kind of hard to spit it out without the use of his hands and without vomiting, but Danny was really trying.

"Before you redecorate, you carpet and what not, if you'll just give me whats mine ,I'll be on my way. I've had a busy night and I'd like to get going..." Huh. Who was the red guy, then? Clearly a fellow mutant, and he was here for something... Oh, crap. What if he was here for the money, too? Danny liked to think he was a nice person, but he wasn't just backing off when it came to the amount of money he suspected was stored here.

"A'gen vit money! I told you alretti I vasn't faying you Shyt! Well. His accent was getting rather incomprehensible, even if Danny spent far more time than he would've liked around Russian mobsters.

Finally, Danny managed to spit out the sock, and spluttered a little bit, catching the attention of the room again. "Effing uncivilized," he muttered, and the goon responsible for the sock growled, moving his gun at him. "Yeah, go ahead, shoot me. Please. It's better than having to look at all your grimy faces. Really, you kiss your mother with that mouth? 'Cause I'd suggest you brush your teeth sometime if you do."

That did it. The goon undid the safety, and Danny tensed - he was used to pain, at this point, but that didn't mean getting shot fatally was fun.

The man fired.

"Ow ow ow!" Danny said, reflexively, as the bullet dug into his leg. "What the hell - you don't shoot a kneeling guy in the leg! You aim for the head or nowhere at all, you asshole!" Well, if he seemed more perturbed and less worried for a guy who'd just been shot in the leg and maybe an artery, wasn't his problem. The mobsters were starting to look vaguely confused, though.

Rummy closed his eyes, focusing on the bio-electric signatures in the room. Not counting himself there were eight, six guards,(one in each corner, one by the door; one near the kid and one behind Viktor) the kid and Viktor. He was glad he ate on the bus, allowing him enough energy to span the room.

"Effing uncivilized. Yeah, go ahead, shoot me. Please. It's better than having to look at all your grimy faces. Really, you kiss your mother with that mouth? 'Cause I'd suggest you brush your teeth sometime if you do."

The boy ranted, compelling the guard to take his life. Rummy admire his willingness to die. Making a mental note to appease him once this was finished. 'I had come giving them, a peaceful means to and old debut...' Rummy thought feeling the swelling of energy inside him.
The middle finger on his left hand tapped his thumb rapidly.

BANG!

"Ow ow ow!" "What the hell - you don't shoot a kneeling guy in the leg! You aim for the head or nowhere at all, you asshole!" The child ranted on. Though he could hear him Rummy was lost within his own thoughts. '...but the see me as nothing but a joke, a boy.. such disrespect.., no courtesy, they laughed at me, and threatened me!' His left hand twitching uncontrollably, a red aura starting to manifest at his feet.

"How dare you.." Rummy muttered to himself. "How dare you insult me..." His muttering gradually getting louder. "Such...such..."

"SUCH RUDE IGNORANT FOOLS!" Rummy barked, his tone echoing throughout the room. Viktor and a few guards jumping at his rage fueled out burst. His left hand clenching tightly, the aura disbanding and spreading through out the room. Those closest to him would fall the fastest,but he had enough battery for everyone. Turning his head Rummy couldn't miss the opportunity to watch Viktor writhe in pain, his eyes teary and blood shot as every vein in his body began to swell. Rummy breathed slowly, his hand steady, grinning at the neutralized Russian.

"Direct neural stimulation of the pain receptors...." His demeanor far different now, switching from enraged to cheerful. Stepping over the boy as he walked around the room explaining his work."...all of them might I add. And loss of all autonomical...? Well paralysis." Making his way towards the door, locking it, and removing the handgun from the guard.

"But I don't have to tell you boys that. I'm sure by now you've figured it out..." He raised the gun up aiming down the sights at the wall before, pointing at the guard's head.
"Unless you're dead..."

BANG!

Brain and skull plaster the wall. Like a paint ball pellet.Rummy kicked the corpse making it slump to the floor. Why? Because, that's why. Or maybe it was for emphasis, either way the room was his and he would direct it as he pleased.

"Now all I wanted was a same amount of cash V..." Rummy continued to stalk around the room, a certain bounce in his step as he spoke casually making his was to the closest guard. "...but no and now look...everyone is going to die. Expect me, I'm going o help myself to your...sorry my money. What was it you said about dead people and money?"


BANG! Another guard's thoughts put on display.

Uh, the red guy was getting slightly angry. Well, very, very angry. In fact, Danny would go so far as to say that he was kind of raging now, judging by the fact that a red haze was starting to materialize out of nowhere. And then he suddenly exploded into a rage, insulting Viktor and his goons as the red he flew out from around him - another facet of his mutation, probably.

It didn't particularly matter to Danny, though, seeing he was too busy writhing in pain to care.

He'd been buried alive before, and decapitated (and yes, it was true that the head survived a little longer than the rest of the body before dying), and suffered through many other more creative ways to die, but this was worse than any of them.

Except being incinerated. That was not fun.

And he'd done that quite often, back in the olden days.

Essentially, the pain wasn't as bad as it likely was for the more mortal victims. They had to juggle their fear of death along with pain, while Danny was able to work through it to try to undo his bonds - shit. Okay, that was out of the question, considering he apparently couldn't move a muscle.

This was far to similar to dying. If only he could trigger a rebirth right about now.

The guy was saying something, but nothing that Danny could get specifics from as he focused on internalizing the pain - something he'd learned to do over time.

"Aim your effing pain wave better, you miniature Satan," Danny ground out, surprised that he was able to speak but was able to work through the resistance he felt. That took far too much effort, though - he was going to shut up now and focus on not screaming instead.