Ugh. Here we go again. Another major city, another pile of paperwork. Alex thought as he stepped out of a taxi cap and looked up at the police station that he knew wasn't going to be expecting him. Few of the 15 states he had been to during the last year had been expecting him... or the team of FBI agents he had been traveling with. Normally the feds and the MRC stuck to their channels when they were chasing after a suspect, but when it came to bringing a consultant with them that technically didn't have any form of law enforcement authority... well, it got complicated rather quickly. And the paperwork started to get stacked rather high. However during that year the FBI had helped fill out all of the paperwork so all he had to do was sign everything.

This time however he was going to have to fill it all out on his own... which meant he was going to have to fill in all the details himself. This was gonna take hours. It wasn't something he was unfamiliar with though. The first time he had come to the Big Apple he had to hand over his locksmith van because the state wide locksmith license that Alex had at the time didn't apply to New York City. It had it's own licensing system, and the vehicle needed that new license to be used as a locksmith van within the city limits. Back then he never got it because he left the city and went back to Kansas. The next time he was in the city he had stopped with the locksmith gig altogether and tried to be a potter.

Now what was he? A consultant for the FBI that had been dismissed due to them no longer needing his assistance because they cut the head off the snake for that mutant mercenary group that had become terrorists. However his certification with the MRC was still good. He just had to make sure that it got that special little something so it could work in the city.

With a groan Alex started to head towards the police center's front door, knowing that this one had a large office made directly for the MRC. He didn't get far when he was stopped by the greeter.

"Hold it. I'm gonna need to see some ID." said a rather gruff looking man whose voice was deep enough to make Darth Vader sound like he was on helium.

"Of course! I actually have three on me since I'm not sure which ones you guys were gonna want for the paperwork I'm gonna need to fill out here." Alex responded kindly, which quickly brought a puzzled look to the officer's face. After Alex pulled out his license and passport, he pulled out the card that mattered. "By the way, would you be able to tell me who I should talk to in order to get that last one to work here in the city that never sleeps?"

The officer held that last card at eye level, then lowered it to give Alex a rather bewildered look. "MRC and FBI consultant?" "I might be of help around here if you guys need it. So, do you have a suggestion on who to talk to?"

Ashton looked up from his phone screen as he entered the station, back from his lunch break. A man stood by the front desk, getting the third degree from the guy working there. He caught enough of the tail end of it to the intrigued.

The MRC detective swooped in on the man, like a hawk on a cute little bunny. "I've got this one, Moe." He smiled, catching the guy's attention. He stood to one side of the supposed FBI and MRC consultant. He'd been gone a while, so on his return he'd put some extra effort into learning what MRC folks in NYC had been up to. And organizing Richmonds MRC, he'd also been paying attention to other branches caseloads. He'd vaguely heard of someone cooperating with both groups.

"Detective Drake, with MRC. Would you like to come to my office so we can speak? Can I get you a water, a coffee?" He conversationally vegan leading the guy back to the "offices" in the building. So nice of MRC to keep his cubicle warm for him. He pulled a folding chair out from its place against a wall and situated it in front of his little desk. Where he sat.

Before the gruff police officer could respond to Alex's request a voice from a third party cut in, prompting Alex to spin on his heel to see the speaker. The man looked middle aged and a bit weathered but on the other hand that didn't mean he was down and out. If anything it most likely meant that this guy had plenty of experience and could handle himself in a scuffle.

Though if the guy was trying to descend on the conversation like a hawk would descend on a bunny, he might quickly discover that this bunny could arm itself with a chainsaw sword when it needed to. Though right now there wasn't any need. "Alex Davis. Nice to meet you. Be right with you." Alex stated, then quickly grabbed his three forms of ID from the officer playing greeter. The guy was far less intimidating now that Alex knew he was named after one of the Three Stooges. "I'll be needing these." Alex quickly stated before he took several long strides to catch up to the detective.

"Thank you for the offer, but I'm good." Alex stated as entered the cubicle. However instead of taking a seat, he turned to face the desk and placed his license, passport, and MRC/FBI consultant ID on the desk in front of the detective. "Before we start, there's one thing I need to get outta the way. Has to do with mutations... or rather mine." Alex stated, and his cyan eyes began to glow green on the spot as he held both hands over the desk. An instant later his malachite bracers slipped out from under his sleeves, down his hands, and landed on the desk with a clunk. Odd thing was that as they were going down his arms they almost seemed to be flexible to the point of being goo-like, though now since they were no longer in contact with Alex's skin they were solid as any gemstone.

"And now that I've disarmed myself, where should we start?" Alex asked as his eyes stopped glowing.

He spared a quick glance at the identification another officer had already confirmed, then returned his focus on Davis. And whatever the man was doing with his hands. Had to do with mutations, huh? It soon became apparent what it was-- he was disarming himself publicly. H flat out said it a couple breaths after Ashton had already figured it out. For the benefit of someone who was a bit slower, obviously. Not a detective, detecting. It was a gesture of good faith, so Ashton didn't make a snide comment how he'd already gathered that. He just nodded in affirmation of the comment.

The bracers on his desk looked to be made of a gemstone of some sort. He wasn't a geologist. He hadn't gone into that natural science in the same way he'd been interested in biology. Hard rocks didn't think. But he got that the man had a mutation dealing with some sort of gemstone, or earth manipulation. Whatever it was, it wasn't the time for getting details-- he could get those later, if it was relevant. He focused on the topic at hand, and smiled faintly at Davis.

"Why don't you go over what you did while working with the various organizations you worked with. I'd like to hear it from your own mouth-- all I know are vague details I gleaned from reports." Sure, he'd overheard the gist of it from that minute of dialogue and read snippets, but some things are better learned from the source. If the guy told him about himself, he'd include or exclude details, which could be enlightening. Whatever he learned would help him figure out the best way they could put this man to good use. It'd also help him figure out just what the man wanted from the arrangement, other than work.

When the detective's question reached Alex's ears, he quickly frowned and slouched into the chair that was provided for him. "You had to ask the hardest question first didn't you? That question is way more complicated then you think." Alex said with a slight grumble, though this was followed by a sigh and him sitting forwards in his chair. "Alright, for starters there was a mercenary team known as the Harbingers that operated out of a mobile base that would make it's way around the U.S. Unlike typical mercenaries though every single member of it was a mutant whose mutation, or mutations in some cases, were extremely destructive. This allowed them to rake in more money then most mercenaries because they didn't have to spend money on guns, ammo, and some materials. They've also been around for a long time. Like 3 generations long." Alex began as he started to rub his temples, knowing that this conversation was going to give him a headache rather quickly. He knew this question was going to come up eventually but he had expected it to come later... like after the person he was talking to got to know him later.

"Another thing you should know is that mutation within my family is hereditary, so much so that our powers of manipulating gemstones can be almost indistinguishable from one another. As you can imagine an entire family where several family members have the ability to create virtually anything they can think of, and the probability of future generations of that family having identical powers being almost 100%, would be a boon to a mutant mercenary group that was looking to replenish their ranks." Alex said as he started to rub his eyes with his left hand. "And when they started to ask members of my family to join only two people had the nerve to say 'no'... myself and my Dad. Everyone else jumped at it."

Alex fell silent for a moment before continuing. "They had asked me to join 5 years ago, and when Dad and I refused they wanted to test the loyalty of the members of my family that did join... by ordering them to kill my Dad and I. Dad sacrificed himself so I could get away. 4 years later they approached me again... though sometime during those 4 years the Harbingers had gone from mercenaries to terrorists. And to prove their point that they wouldn't take 'no' for an answer this time they butchered my wife and child when I wasn't home." Alex said before pausing again and leaning back in his chair as tears started to form in his eyes.

After remaining silent for a moment to make sure he wouldn't start crying, Alex resumed spilling the beans. "Not long afterwards the FBI and MRC approached me to help them take down the Harbingers. Officially I was a consultant to help them track down the Harbingers through the members I knew really well. Unofficially... they wanted a mutant among them so in case word got out that the government was trying to take down a group of mutants. That way they could say something along the lines of 'we were only after the bad mutants and to prove it we have a good mutant helping us.' The fact that they picked someone who wanted justice just meant that they didn't have to find a way to motivate me to help."

"So... wanna ask anything or do you want me to continue?" Alex asked modestly, knowing he just dumped a bunch of information on the guy and he might need time to process it all.

Ashton digested the information that quietly, occasionally nodding in understanding or giving small sounds of acknowledgement or encouragement as the man went. Mercenaries, mobile home. Old group of mutants. He got confirmation of what, generally, the man's mutation was. It ran in the family. And most of his family had joined the group... had to suck.

It had been clear that parts of the story were difficult for Alexander, and as e mentioned his family and their sudden history with the group, Ashton's questions dried up. Yeah, that entire situation would leave a bad taste in anyone's mouth. Dad. Wife. Child. Damn.

Alex cried a little. Ashton nudged a box of tissues nonchalantly across the desk.

As Alex wrapped his story up, Ashton contemplated what to say to that. He'd read the file, yes, but it had been sterile and impersonal. Like most police reports, it hadn't gone into much detail about the life of the consultant, just the investigation aspects and end result. Evidence.

"The police reports didn't get into that. I'm sorry. I didn't realize just how personal your story was." Ashton paused for a moment, to let his apology sink in. Then he said "Please, continue."