Officer Linely trudged carefully through the darkness of the alleyway. Alone. The cold bit at his nose, the vapor visible on his breath.  He'd been told to wrap up warm for this one, and it was proving sound advice. His heavy, leather boots , thick trenchcoat and stereotypical detectives hat all kept the bite off the cold. A thickly gloved hand carried a briefcase. Midnight was approaching. The new moon was rising, and the light of the streetlamps was far away from any part of this place. The smell of rotting vegetation filled the air, combined with distinct cigarette-smoke. Not a nice place to be.

Yet his quarry was now active with the lunar cycle, and needed to be caught. It'd already caused the hospitalisation of three young mutant women, and was likely working on the fourth. Multiple lacerations, never delivering the killer blow, but each one worse than the first. Each one called 911 in a state of great distress, screaming to the contact about a home invader. Always no signs of a break-in aside from the victim's attack, always a mutant victim, and always in match with the new moon. No leads other than some terrified women. Mutant Perpertrator expected.

So Linely was looking for information at the only place he knew where to start. The  "Gentlemutant"  working mutant's club. The approach down the alleyway was one of its little gimmicks. The people here didn't like to be seen entering or exiting, naturally a place the MRC and particularly Linely liked to keep an eye on. As he approached the centre of the alleyway, a dull red lantern presented itself to him. It illuminated a rather ornate door, not that the club had much in the way of money, but they had...ways so to speak. 

He turned the handle of the door with his free, and let the squeak of the handle announce the entrance of a new individual coming in. The lighting motif was the same as outside, a dull red glow, difficult to see , but by no means impossible. The sound of soft jazz played in the background, and the cigarette smell only got stronger. The proprietors didn't much care for that part of the law, not that Linely was about to enforce it.

The room was small, with enough tables for a pub-like atmosphere, and enough space not to be overheard if you weren't too loud. A frog-like mutant served at the bar, and was currently in the process of serving pint from a dirty glass to an equally ugly boar-faced man. Linely knew better than to drink here.

He sat down quietly at a corner, waiting for his contact to arrive. "Ratty" had recommended this place, as people here didn't ask too many questions. Needless to say, if he was recognised even vaguely here as a police officer, he would have to leave. Fast. Anyone looking to do some shady business was welcome here, particularly given "Ratty"'s propensity for double-booking. He just hoped the MRC's little "gift" for him would be enough to make him talk.

It had taken some dry cleaning, but they'd gotten the garbage juice out of the gray overcoat. Like something out of a noir detective movie, or Casablanca. All he needed was the fedora, or the pork pie hat. Elliott turned the mantle up against the cold as he approached the club. The entrance was down an alley that obscured who entered just enough that criminals liked it, even though its existence drew police attention too damn well.

"Well, would you look at that?" Elliott's voice held disbelief. There, on the lid of a trash can. A gray fedora. And nobody was looking. He picked it up in one hand, and doffed it on his head. Look, completed. Now, he looked shifty as heck. He'd fit right in with the people in the club.

Business had called him. Simple, simple business. There was a person, a 'Ratty', and he wanted to make contact. Just to ask a few questions about an undisclosed situation. Dot is and cross ts, as it were. There was no dame involved, no black and white scenery or gritty hard-nosed detective skills. No dicking around.

Elliott opened the door, and entered the fine establishment, head bowed. The mantle and the fedora obscured his lime green skin from sight to all but the most stalwart observer, although they drew eyes, too. Yeah. Way too many eyes. He checked the hat and coat at the door. There was no reason to look like a flasher before the story even started. Underneath the overcoat, Elliott wore a nice pair of black slacks, with a black leather belt, and a white button-up shirt with black buttons. He wore black and white chucks on his feet. It was far more casual than what he had been wearing. Probably, Rebecca would have admonished him for not trying harder to pull off the look. Well. If he ran into her again, maybe he would. It took heuvos to rock that. Huevos rancheros. Damn. Now, he wanted Mexican.

Ratty was supposed to meet him by the bar. But Ratty apparently kept a crap schedule. Sometimes, he set up meetings with more than 1 person.

Elliott slid into the bar, held up two fingers (2/3 of his right hand), and asked for scotch. Neat. Then, he took stock of the people around him.

In came another man, grey fedora on his head, well concealed from what little light there was in the "establishment". Very few people looked up. This wasn't Ratty, and Linely took to continuing to brood in the corner. The man himself went to the bar and appeared to order a drink. Poor sod. If it wasn't somewhat slimey then he'd be lucky. Fortunately for the bar-man most mutants here didn't care.

Now opened a door from a side room, a slightly rotunned gentleman was being carefully escorted out by a rather short skaven type. Linely couldn't exactly make out what they were saying, but the nervous Italian-American accent coming from Ratty was exceedingly distinctive. Whatever it was, both parties looked pleased with the deal. No double-booking for that guy, Linely could only wonder if he was the same.

Linely stood up, watching the short rat-mutant enter the bar. The rat-man moved fast, carefully darting between tables, eyes attentive. His face and snout were covered in well-kept black fur, with slight dapples of sliver showing near the ears. He was dressed in a dark grey shirt, coupled with a black-pinstriped suit, made to match his scrawny build. Expensive. Nice. Things that Ratty could afford in his line of work. Ratty deemed to spot Linely and sat down on one of the central tables. Carefully, with purpose. Eyes still on the detective, a gleam of controlled malevolent happiness in his yellow eyes, which reflected the lights like cats-eyes. Linely would have to approach him. That was Ratty, for all his poor schedule keeping, he was at least no fool when dealing with the police.

Linely carefully got up, suitcase in hand and approached the rat-man. Past the smell of freshly opened whiskey, opened for the most recent entrant from outside. He kept his eyes on the rat-man.

"I trust you haven't double booked Ratty?" Linely spoke directly, the less time he spent here, the more time he would have to spend dealing with the case at hand. If Ratty had double booked, and he was recognised, things were going to be awkward.

The drink got finished, and fast. Faster than he would have liked, but he had an appointment. The moment Ratty came in, Elliott's focus locked onto the rat. And he watched. And he waited.

Elliott stared.

He tilted his drink back a little more, in an attempt to get whatever dregs were left in the glass. He paid, and walked over to the double-booked rat man with a sigh. "Ratty, Ratty." Elliott drawled, hand scratching the back of his head as he approached. "I have got to get you a day planner for Christmas. And you would be--?"

He stopped a pace from the table. Looked the man at the table in the face, and ran him through his mental database of faces and names. Computerized beeping and whirring was the imagined accompanying sound effect. Ding! He got a match. Oh.

Oh crap. The realization hit him, but he hid it cooly behind the amicable smile on his face. He felt like maybe he knew the guy. And he felt like maybe, the guy was a cop.

"Anyone ever tell you you look like Roy from that arrow show? What's the name again? I always forget the shows name." Elliott smiled.

As Linely sat by the table, he heard another voice address Ratty. Great, as usual, Ratty had lived up to his reputation. The man was right, he did need a bloody day-planner! As the man came into view. Linely realised who it was. Mutants were easy to remember. Particularly ones you encountered just after you and your...friend nearly got blown up by a bomb in a nice Italian, mobster run restaurant.

"Ellis?" Linely questioned, the alien mutant seemed to just be a dishwasher when Linely met him. How on earth did he know Ratty? It was certainly possible, but Ratty was normally known to the criminal underbelly, being of the respectability that he was. Still, Linely couldn't discount the possibility that Ratty got Ellis the job in the first place. Ratty had a lot of Mob contacts.

"And you look like E.T. from the movie. I think you mean the Green arrow?" Linely didn't watch cop film and programmes, he would spend too much time shouting at the screen telling them that they were getting basic procedure wrong. All of this was met with laughter by Ratty.

"I take it you two know each other somehow then?" Ratty tittered. "Well this is an interesting turn of events!" His accent, American with a Southern Irish lilt, made this statement seem more friendly than Ratty probably intended it to be.

Ellis, the cop asked. "That's me," Elliott nodded once. The cop remembered him. He wasn't made yet. He hadn't done anything criminal. He was just friends with a low grade rat. That wasn't illegal, just foolish.

Elliott laughed at Linely's joke. "E.T.? I doubt I could fit into a basket on a bikes handlebars. And he's way more popular than me." All those government agents just loved ET. Wanted to take him home with them and learn everything about him.

Green arrow? Nah. "It's called Quiver. That's it." He snapped 2/3 of his fingers on his right hand as he remembered the title. "About the costumed marksman who always shouts epic fail then shoots people. What a strange line..." Some writers come up with the most ridiculous stuff.

Ratty opened his big dumb mouth, and Elliott glanced at him. "Linely's a good man." He said simply. "I met him at one of my last jobs." He looked to Linely, smiling. "I've got an internship now, at Jaager Worldwide. Moving up in the world."

"Well, I'm no marksman, can shoot straight though, and I wouldn't be seen dead in a costume like those heroes wear." Linely joked again. Ratty was finding this awfully amusing, and let out a hearty chuckle.

"Clearly Mr Linely needs to work on his pop culture references" The rat-man said, sending a chill down the cop's spine as he said it. Ratty had the information he needed, and was simply using his disarming charm to up the price.

Indeed Ellis had moved up in the world, working at that company. That said, he seemed to have a penchant for picking employers with dodgy at best records. No-one came to Ratty unless they needed something specific, either a "job" or some information from the underground. Clearly, JW were up to something, but Linely was too busy with his case to care. Perhaps Ellis could help him out with this one though?

Linely placed the suitcase on the table. "Well Ratty, this is the gift that me and my associates have prepared for you. Now what information do you have for me about the New Moon Slasher?" Hopefully Ellis would have heard about this by now, female mutants being attacked in their own homes by some sort of scumbag? Linely was here on serious business, and hopefully all three of them recognised that now.

Ratty looked in the case and began to tut softly. "Well, it's definitely a mutant, or an "M" user, it's not truly known. It also seems to have powers of teleportation...I've heard more, but these people put a lot of confidence in dear Ratty, so unless I'm guaranteed another meeting...."

Ratty was milking this for all it was worth. What a surprise. "Need I remind you about the infestation problem at 52 Franklin Drive?" Linely stated sweetly. Ratty's face began to fall. That was likely to make him more compliant.

Elliott smiled at the banter, the joking around. He caught the name drop and the change in the conversation when it happened though. Ratty was an information goon, and Linely was a cop. It was clear to the green man what was going on before Linely followed up with the asking.

Now what cover could he have for having come over to talk to Ratty? If a cop was suspicious as to why you were talking with a shifty person, it could cause you troubles, even if you were on the level about it. What had he even been looking into before this had hit a fan blade? Just a few questions about some situation, just to get things cleared up into pristine detail? Was this information he needed from this source... or could he get it elsewhere. Maybe he could just play it as if Ratty were an old friend. If Ratty were smart enough to catch on.

Of course, he could always misdirect Linely into thinking he was looking into something he really wasn't. Something he had little interest in. Something like Utopias fall. Ratty was unlikely to have information on the group that destroyed the colony. It had been evacuated prior, so he couldn't say he was looking for a friend. But he could say he was trying to find out more about the event, things the media wasn't making clear. JW had been invested in Utopia. It had been a Jaager pet project. Would it be weird if they were looking into its fall, even now? Well yes, if they were asking Ratty. It would be interesting to hear what the man had to say, but he wasn't that interested and he didn't want to pay the man for more worthless talk.

Ratty was already getting a suitcase full of money. It was looking good for Ratty today. Elliott could back out. The information he needed was stuff he could get from other sources like the sisters. He wasn't sure why he hadn't gone to them before. Maybe he'd just wanted to slum it like old times?

He had heard about the New Moon Slasher. News agencies always like to focus on the scariest things. Cops would definitely be investigating it. Linely was on the case. Now there was an idea. Elliott's mouth drew into a thin flat line. He could work with the lie.

"Well," he grimaced. "This is awkward. I'm after the same information. Ratty. A friend of mine was recently murdered in her home. I wanted more information on this ass so I could go to the police and volunteer it. Help them out," he gritted his teeth. "So I could feel less powerless about the whole thing. Right now I know jack all... but I can chip in some money for you. Maybe get you that day planner and some of your favorite scotch. After you helped me out with finding a job before, I thought we were friends. If you're holding on on a nice guy like Linely, about something this serious... maybe I don't want to be friends with you after all."

Ratty frowned for a moment, considering Elliott's words. Would he take the lie and run with it? Yes he would. "I hear ya." He said with a sigh. "It's a shame what happened with that last job."

"Yeah," Elliott said. "Dishwashing was great, but those guys had some bad friends..." he glanced at Linely. "Wish they'd been better people."

Elliott had abandoned the old information he was looking for. But he supposed he could help a cop to help facilitate the strengthening of a false identity and cover his motives. Sure.

Ellis was after the New Moon Slasher? A friend of one of the victims? It was a small world after all. Still, last Linely had heard, all the three victims were still alive. Brutalised yes, but alive. One was comatose as a result of her injuries, but not dead. That's what caught the press' attention. The fiend had gone through great lengths NOT to kill his victims. So Linely had some good news for the Alien mutant. "I believe Ellis, you are talking about Sally Watergate, and I have some good news-she isn't dead, just comatose and in really bad shape."

Linely was suspicious now. It seemed odd that Ellis wouldn't know that a friend of his wasn't actually dead. But Linely got the impression that Ellis was the type to declare people friends when the feeling wasn't entirely mutual. Calling Ratty a friend for example, was a bit strong for anyone.

Ratty grimaced at Ellis' remarks. "Alright, alright. There is suspicion that this is an "M" user gone rogue. One of the dealers I have... contact with suggested that one of his regulars became distinctly" Ratty paused again, quoting the lowlife in question ""toothy and teleporty" was his exact phrasing." That was something to go on. "I can't give you names obviously." Well duh, Linely hated "M" with a passion, and was known for being particularly brutal. The last dealer which encountered Spasm had come off particularly badly.

"Thanks Ratty, it was unfortunate about the restaurant." Linely spoke with a sigh. "It scared the young lady I was with half to death. As Ellis knows." She was doing better though, that was something. After all they'd been through, it was nice to get a lack of tumult for the time being. "Still, I found a different Restaurant to take her to in the end." And that had been a little awkward, but it was something. At least Linely now had what he came for, the Slasher was a "M" addict most likely, that made him a whole lot easier to track down.

Oh damn. He hadn't even thought of that. The look of surprise on his face was actually honest. "That is good news," he said, voice thready. "I saw police at her place, and tried calling one of her numbers, but never heard back. So I just assumed. I'm terrible at that. Assuming." Or, really really amazingly good at it, if you looked at it from another angle. He grimaced. "Comatose is still bad, though. This person needs to be stopped." There was conviction in his voice. He surprised himself when he realized it was real. Huh. That was interesting.

It's interesting how one can be a criminal, and commit horrible crimes in the name of money and some shadowy faction that doesn't have a goal beyond chaos, and yet feel anger at the thought of other criminals doing horrible things to random people, with actual MO and goals. Mindless violence is less repellent than planned brutality? Maybe it was the fact he'd never applied names to faces, and hid behind that.

Linely was likely suspicious of him now, if he hadn't been so already. Well that was great. Maybe he should just say "I was actually not connected to a victim. I, uh, want to play vigilante and help the cops?" Would that be less suspicious, or MORE?

Ratty fell to Elliott's charms and helped Linely out. That was a start. Linely thanked the man, then spoke to Elliott about the restaurant.

Elliott frowned. "Yeah. Shame about the restaurant." He agreed. "Glad your friend is doing better. She was really shaken up."

"Well." Elliott looked to Ratty. "I guess I can consider the information passed on, then... though it isn't much. I wish we could find more. I really do want to help catch the guy... " Did he, though? Or did he just want to get out of this situation? Elliott sighed. "Just hearing about murdering scum like this on the streets makes my blood boil."

The line between lying to make his story seem more believable and actually feeling a strange commitment was something to consider. And get one's self committed over. Because he was a bad guy. But wanted to help a good guy. Because someone else was worse. What the hell was going on?

Elliott looked to Linely. "If you knew of some M addicts, maybe you could interview them and track them to their source. And use that source to lead you to the slasher..." He said quietly. He was frowning still.

It seemed Ellis was mad enough to want to help. Linely smiled at this "well, given you have some contact with Ratty, I'm sure he's tried to fix you up with one of his dealers before." He watched the Rat-Man's whiskers twitch with annoyance. "He tried to do so with me at one point. That was before he knew I was a cop." Sometimes Ratty was over presumptuous about the type of "customer" he was going to get for his own good. "It's never wise to go meet "M" dealers on my own, and I don't trust Ratty as far as I can throw him..."

Again the Rat's whiskers twitched with annoyance "I'm sure Elliot...I mean Ellis" he smiled with pearly white teeth. "Would be delighted to help out with you." Linely's ears pricked up. "So you have multiple names? That's cool. No different to me being called Spasm by my colleagues". It made sense really, if you're dealing with criminal underworld types, it was never wise to give them your real name. So he had probably caused Ellis a bit of trouble by referring to him by that name.

"Ratty, it seems I need a fix up with that dealer. If we can catch this guy before he uses again, there'll be a reward in it for you..." The Rat-Man's ears pricked up. He smiled again with his pearly white teeth.

"I'm sure we can come to another...arrangement" He stated. "But I must emphasize that it is likely to cost more than my usual fee." Of course it was, that was Ratty, always looking to get a decent profit out of anyone's misfortune.

The assumption was way off base, but Elliott kept his mouth zipped, a thin red line. Assumptions of criminal activity, bad. Connections to drug dealers, bad. This whole situation, bad. So why was he still present and accounted for? Why was he listening?

Meeting M dealers? What an idea. Even if they weren't mutants, if things went south they always had their own products to sample. It was bad, all around.

Also, Ratty used a name Elliott never used. Not for criminal things. He did not arch an eyebrow. He merely wanted to haul back and punch the rat in the face. The fact the guy knew a name he really only connected to his internship at Jaager Worldwide meant Ratty was looking into him behind his back. Geez. He could have just asked. It's so much easier to lie to someone to their face.

Linely commented of the multiple names. His alias was Spasm. Catchy. Sounded like he had a power that could really make one twitch. Elliott just had to reply to that!

He laughed. One bitter short single laugh. Heh. "Like I'd give my real name to Ratty here. Elliott's more of a joke name. Like the kid from E.T. Get it?" The kid from E.T.? Yep. His adoptive parents were hilarious people when they weren't hiding his extraterrestrial past from him. "But then, he loves digging on people behind their backs." Elliott continued. "I doubt he doesn't know the real names of all the people he deals with."

"It's good business," Ratty shrugged. Elliott only nodded. Now Ratty knew an alias of his. And Linely was behind a little smokescreen.

Hopefully, Linely wasn't going to retroactively bust him for lying to police about his name, if he figured out the truth of that little interaction. Especially after he'd gone to all that trouble to establish a fake identity for the job. He had a drivers license that disagreed with it, too. Legit. Hacked. No evidence. For if he ever wanted to own a car. Running 30mph in New York traffic topped that, for short distances at least. For everything else, there's the rooftops and the bus. But motorcycles sure are nice.

Linely dug for the name of that dealer. He was insistent. He dangled a carrot. Rats love carrots. But he wanted more money. Even more money. Elliott rolled his eyes.

"You do realize you aren't the only guy in town who can dig for information, right? Acting all big and walking the walk. Like you got a big--" Ladies and gentlemen, what rhymes with walk? "Now, I'm sure this guy over here." He jerked his head towards Linely. "Has more people he could shake down. But you're getting the exclusive. And a reward if it pays off. Why rake us over the coals for getting a piece of scum off the streets? Certainly makes it safer for you."

They could pay him more, sure. Technically, he hadn't even given the rat the money he'd said he'd give him for helping them out. That is bad business, folks. Always get money up front for the promise of information. If the person doesn't like it, they can just walk out without paying a cent. You already gave it to them.

Elliot/Ellis' joking around about his aliases was amusing for sure, and he seemed mildly annoyed that Ratty had decided to dig around him. Plainly what did he expect? Ratty lived and died by the information he could gather, which was a lot, given the sheer number of Rats he had at his...disposal. NYC wasn't exactly short of vermin. It did make Linely wonder exactly how hygienic that Restaurant had been, given how Ratty seemed to lay claim to setting Ellis up with the job. Not something he needed to worry about now anyway.

Then the Alien mutant started to pull the classic "we can look elsewhere" trick. Well that was certainly possible, but Ratty had the most contacts in this field of business. That was why the police hadn't busted him yet, plus a number of what Linely expected to be bribes Ratty had tactically placed. So the "vermin Lord" was able to do as he pleased so long as he was willing to share information...for a price of course, if the police were seen to be getting information in the criminal underworld for free, in Ratty's words "it would look bad."

"Very well Ellis, I'll halve my extra costs, but next time you come to my...association, expect half." Ratty knew the police would keep their word. Ratty took something out of his jacket, a rather respectable looking piece of white rectangular cardboard. He passed the card to the Alien mutant "This should be the dealer you're looking for, I'm sure you're more than capable of handling yourself. Does this conclude our meeting?"

Linely was for signalling the affirmative, but he needed to make sure that they were on the same page. The Alien mutant had got himself involved now. "Unless you have anything else to say Ellis?"

Did he have something to say? Not effing really. The bad business behavior of the rat bugged him, though. Even if knowing things was his job and his life, bringing multiple people to meetings at the same time was absolutely idiotic. Part of him wanted to say so, to tell the rat that it would be a cold day in hell before he came to him again for information. But unlike the rat, he was a good businessman. Burning bridges was not good business.

"Nope," Elliott said succinctly, turning away to glance at the card. Then, he started walking towards the coat racks and the exit of the bar.

"Hey!" Ratty called to him. "Weren't you going to pay me?" He had said it concluded their business, but had forgotten the little matter of the tab.

"Shouldn't have given me the information before I paid you~" he sang, raising one hand above his head, the one with the card. He gave it a little flick, then slipped it away into a pocket. He nabbed his overcoat, the one that made him look like a detective, folded it over one arm, and plopped his fedora on his head. Then, he walked out the door, leaving Ratty to fume... and Linely, with nothing else he could do but stay or follow. The ball was in his court now.

Had he said he wouldn't burn that bridge? Dramatic exits and making weak information dealers look like idiots most certainly was good for business. Though now maybe he'd have to watch his back.

Linely watched the alien-mutant at work, the man seemed somewhat annoyed at Ratty, not really surprising. It was obvious that the man HAD double booked on him, and while it all turned ok, it was still poor business, especially with Ratty's clientele being less than savory and often less than amiable towards one another. As Ellis picked up the card and walked away, Linely promptly followed.

Ratty was asking for payment now? Well, he'd probably get it on the next job. But one thing was for sure, Ellis was now going to have to tread very carefully. If Ratty was the vindictive type (and in certain cases he most certainly was) then anyone who went "off message" would likely be getting a response from one of his "little helpers". Particularly as the man had dirt on everyone, and rather enjoyed bringing people's lives crashing down using pieces of information slipped to the wrong person whilst the teller was drunk.

Linely dashed to get through the door to follow through the door as Eliis went out, managing not to trip over the doorstep in the dark. "Well, it looks like I have an impromptu partner, doesn't it?" Linely stated to the Alien mutant. This was unorthodox, but it looked like the man could handle himself, and it was perhaps better to be dealing with someone he could trust.