A lot of strange Things had been happening all over New York. Some of it was easy enough to ignore, but others were being sensationalized and were harder to escape. There was only so much alcohol in the Sanctuary and even trying to drink herself into a stupor didn't save Isabel the headache of having to listen to numerous people jabbering on about the time and the weather and about some kind of upcoming eclipse. It was all anyone wanted to talk about, it was all over the news, there was a whole festival being thrown together for viewing. It was a never ending gossip nightmare.

An eclipse wasn't really her thing, nor were crowds, but the opportunity to cause a little mayhem was too tempting. A chance to take out some of her irritation over all the incessant chatter she'd endured for weeks. Some big drunken festival was the perfect kind of environment to cause trouble without getting easily caught. Accident happened at those things all the time so it would be easy to cover her tracks. And if the dumb moon decided to disappear while she was there then so be it. It wasn't like she'd be watching, even if it was supposed to be some kind of big impressive thing that only happened every handful of years or something. It was dumb and definitely not interesting at all.

She kept mostly to the outskirts of the crowds, ducking any news crews she caught sight of and looking for anything interesting to stick her nose into. There were plenty of food trucks and stands, probably with a ton of things like hot grease and open flames. It would be so easy to combine the two. She could probably even get her hands on some bottles for a little explosive fun, too. There were certainly enough drunks stumbling around so there had to be booze vendors somewhere. She'd just have to wait until that moon thing really got into full swing and distracted most of those people, or at least the cameras. Zephyr would kill her if she got bagged for arson so she'd need the distraction.

But then everything went to hell.

It was like a tornado whipped up out of nowhere, big and then bigger gusts of wind kicking up and knocking around everyone and everything in its path. Isabel had wandered just close enough to the festivities to get herself sucked into the chaos. She'd tried anchoring herself to the ground, which had worked for the first few gusts of wind, but then the most powerful one swept over the grounds and tore the dirt right out from under her. She went tumbling in too many direction to count, feeling debris bouncing off of her the whole while and prompting her to cover her face and armor herself against the onslaught.

It felt like forever before she finally stopped tumbling and even longer before the spinning in her head subsided enough for her to attempt to get back to her feet. She could hear people around her panicking and sirens gradually getting louder. She couldn't be in the same space as the cops. They always brought those damn bots with them now and she wasn't feeling stable enough to try and deal with any of them. She'd never be able to land a solid hit if she was seeing double.

Uneasily getting to her feet she stumbled a few steps before she found her stride, shoving her way past the other people rushing around, unafraid to draw blood in the process. There was no way she'd be the center of attention in such a jumble so she felt secure enough in cutting her way through a few people without worrying about making headlines. Anyone with a camera would be following the sirens around to find a good story.

She wasn't sure if it was her head was still spinning from the tumble she'd taken, but even as she separated herself from the crush of the panicked crowd she didn't feel right. Something was off, but she wasn't sure what it was. She wanted to say she felt lower... and everything looked to be about three inches too far to the right. Maybe she'd hit her head when she'd landed. Sleeping might have to wait for a little while, but that wouldn't be too much of a problem. Once she got back to the Sanctuary she could relax and get her head back on straight and figure out exactly what had happened back there.

At least that had been the plan, but upon arriving to where the Sanctuary should have been, those iconic golden doors were missing. They were just gone, vanished. It looked like they'd never been there at all. A jolt of panic finally passed through her while she stopped and stared from across the street. How could it be gone? She'd just come from the place, but here it looked like it had never even existed. This was wrong. Something was seriously wrong. What the hell had happened in that storm?

Isabel had grabbed her phone and dialed Zephyr's number without completely realizing she'd done it. Maybe he would be gone, too? Normally that would have been a very pleasant thought, but at the moment it was nearly as concerning as her home having vanished. At least the young man might have some kind of answers for her. She'd even settle for his snark if it meant something solid and familiar to grab onto. Maybe it would help her head stop spinning. He just had to pick up first. Everything was so very wrong.

People love spectacle.

It was like a drug, always searching for the latest innovation, the newest novelty; they would line up for hours, sometimes days, just to receive the most recent phone and would attend sporting events in the hundreds of thousands simply to experience something ever so slightly different than the previous year.

It should come as no real surprise then that the approaching advent of a lunar eclipse had turned New York City, the tourist capital of the world, into something more akin to a festival than a place of commerce. Food trucks lined the streets surrounded by scattered booths of different shape and size selling everything under the sun, from beer to burgers, chips to corn dogs, even miniature telescopes were on sale to those with more money than sense, which given the crowd was depressingly most of them.

Amongst it all the residents of the city swarmed like ants, an old cliche true, but as he gazed down from his perch atop a nearby building Simon couldn’t quite deny how apt the description was. Each speck down below was an individual human being yes, but as a wise man once said, ‘the intelligence of the creature known as the crowd is the square root of the number of people in it.’

Though to be fair, the elemental couldn’t claim to be so different from those below, he too was whiling away the evening waiting for the clouds to clear (or his patience to run out, whichever came first). Yet after having spent the past month out of town he’d forgotten how tedious such throngs of people could be and it hadn’t helped that something amidst the crowd was causing the air to twist and surge in ways which were simply not natural and left him with the faint stirrings of a new headache. Thus he’d quickly retired to his current retreat to enjoy the night sky in silence.

At least, that had been the plan.Reality however was a far more fickle mistress then even luck herself. For just as the moon filled itself with the anticipated blood red hue it was as if a trigger had been pulled and the quiet revelry of the night air shattered like glass as reality abruptly gave way with an explosion of sound, as a gash tore through the air itself and seemed to breathe in with the force of a localized hurricane.

Under other circumstances it would have been fascinating to watch, as it was though the suddenness had taken him by surprise and Simon spent the first several seconds simply trying to stand his ground as he fought the winds clawing at him even as others were tossed around like dolls. By the time anything approaching normality had begun to return to the park sirens were already starting to echo down the streets and the hessian found himself braced against an air duct as he stared at the newly formed rift and tried to grasp what his senses were telling him.

So intent on the anomaly before him the elemental almost missed the faint ringtone from his phone. Drawing the slim device from his pocket he glanced at the caller and arched an eyebrow before answering. “Isabel, to what do I-” A frown crossed his lips as the brunette interrupted him and began babbling through bursts of static about missing doors and ‘wrong’ strangers in a shaking tone that was bordering on panic. That more than anything gave him pause.

In all the years he’d known Isabel he could count on one hand the number of times she’d been visibly scared. She could be emotional yes, but she was far more likely to turn to anger or, recently, embarrassment than fear. And while he had an idea of which building the missing ‘doors’ referenced he needed to be sure before he tore off to collect her which was easier said than done due to said babbling.”Isabel you’re not-, Isabel-, Isabel calm down. Just breathe and start from the beginning.”

Eventually, after what could have only been minutes but felt like an hour Simon managed to coax the entire story from the girl, and even if she didn’t know how she’d gotten to where she was, it took no great leap of logic considering the rift in the centre of the park that the police were even now working to cordon off with impromptu barricades made from nearby booths, yellow tape and a generous guard of METAbots.

Interesting fact about Metabots, they’d largely been modeled off of humans and while they were packed with all manner of advanced senses they were primarily designed to focus on what was in front, beside and behind them, but not above. It was a subtle quirk rather than a glaring flaw, since the machines could look up just as easily as humans, but it was one Simon had no qualms about exploiting as he dropped down from the above the rift like a falcon and ghosted through the rift with little more than a whisper.

He was living in interesting times.

Isabel had begun to pace, chewing on the tips of her fingers and glancing across the street over and over again, her panic inching higher with each unanswered ring. Finally the tone was interrupted by Zephyr's mildly curious drawl. He hadn't disappeared along with the Sanctuary. A moment of relief hit but was quickly buried again under a new wave of questions and concerns. She couldn't wait for him to finish whatever sarcastic comment he was probably going to make before the panic broke and she began babbling rapidly into the phone.

"Zephyr! It's gone. Zeph, it's gone. I left and then I came back and now they're gone, it's all gone." Her fingers had fallen from her mouth to tangle nervously in her hair, painfully tugging the locks every time she gestured unthinkingly to the unoccupied space across the street as she spoke. "I don't know where it went. Everything is so wrong, it all feels wrong, I don't know what's going on but it's gone and it's all wrong."

She was on the verge of beginning to hyperventilate. How could something that had been standing for so long simply vanish as if it had never been there? It was such an important place, everyone in New York knew about those doors and the building they were attached to. It had been her home for so long, how could it have just disappeared? What if it was gone for good? What was she supposed to do then? There weren't too many options for a person like her. She needed the Sanctuary. It couldn't just disappear like this.

The static coming through the phone's speaker was fraying her nerves even further. What would happen if she lost the connection? The young man's voice was all she had to hold on to at the moment and the possibility of dropping the call and not being able to connect a second one was agitating. It was hard to stop rambling long enough to process that he was trying to interrupt her, but eventually he caught her attention and it occurred to her that she'd need to give him something to follow in case the call did disconnect.

"I'm at the Sanctuary. I should be at the Sanctuary, but it's gone, Zeph. The doors aren't here. Nothing's here," she started, trying to keep her voice steady but not exactly succeeding. She kept pacing, the nervous energy needing somewhere to go, but she was able to stop tugging on her hair so hard. "I was near that festival and some kinda wind or something happened and I got knocked around and now I'm dizzy and everything feels wrong and the Sanctuary is gone and I don't know what to do."

Isabel had gotten enough of the problem out, Zephyr had ended the call. Without his voice and the static in her ear everything felt very quiet. She could still hear sirens blaring from where she'd come from. One or two cruisers would flew past on the street to join the rest while she paced. Either they didn't notice her or the damage from that wind storm was too pressing. She barely noticed them either. As long as the Bots didn't march past it didn't seem all that important. All that mattered right now was what happened to her home and if Zephyr could hep her figure it out. He usually had some kind of answer for her when she started to panic, but she wasn't so sure there was a solution to this particular problem. She just hoped he found her soon.

Passing through the rift while ethereal was a surreal experience; without eyes to see he had to rely on his spatial perception, which could perhaps best be described as perpetual sonar vision in all directions. Things that had mass, or vacuums, were portrayed as 3d silhouettes; and while incredibly fine things such as cobwebs or pollen were faint enough to be missed without focus they still existed.

Things beyond the rip though, they flickered in and out of existence like flames; there one moment and gone the next. Given that he was robbed of his other faculties while ethereal, losing the clarity of his sole source of perception was… unsettling; utter sensory deprivation was considered torture for a reason after all.

Fortunately, while the rifts aperture was wider enough to accommodate a pair of double decker buses side by side, its depth could seemingly be measured with the edge of a knife. So, aside from a single moment where everything was a twisting shade of black-white-grey/not grey, Simon quickly found himself reorienting in a mirror image of the park he’d just left. Cordoned off with the same ineffectual police tape, the portal on this side was also blockaded, though this time with a collection of squad cars/vans rather than hastily pulled together vendor booths and, he double checked, completely lacking in anything resembling Metabots.

Interesting.

Sadly he couldn’t afford to linger and sate his curiosity; the anxiety in Isabel's voice had been all too clear, the soubrette was likely as hair’s breadth from lashing out at the next poor soul who tried to talk to her.

He started heading towards Sanctuary, coasting on a passing breeze as he compared his current surroundings to memory and sought out differences.

Even assuming this New York was the same as his own and the residents weren’t known for their amiability, she was a buxom brunette, alone, visibly upset-

He increased his speed.

-and quite likely lacking her bloodthirsty notoriety which would have otherwise kept strangers at bay.

He sped up again.

The bars lets out sometime after midnight didn’t they? She’d be hit on by the first drunk out the door, or eyed for a mugging despite holding almost nothing of value. Even if she retained the presence of mind to try and talk her way out, which was doubtful, things would likely only escalate.

Letting out a resigned sigh Simon broke into the equivalent of a jog while casting his senses as far forward as possible. With his luck the girl was already surrounded by two bit rent’a’thugs and he’d arrive just as their blood started to warm the streets while she left crimson footprints to the nearest police station just to vent some stress and leaving him to clean up the mess in more ways than one.

Pessimistic? Yes.

Realistic? Annoyingly, also yes.

Which was why he felt a certain amount of surprise when he caught Isabel’s lone tell tale figure pacing back and forth across the street from Sanctuary, or at least where Sanctuary should have been,the structure in its place was notable not the renowned golden gated building he’d once lived in. More importantly however Isabel was not surrounded by a pile of cooling corpses nor could he find any nearby…

Deciding not to question his apparent good luck for now Simon swept into a nearby alley and performed the ethereal equivalent of drawing a deep breath as he carefully pulled himself into corporeality. The process of arranging innumerable molecules into solid form like so much lego a well practiced, but tedious task at this point, though he always welcomed the sense of relief which came when his other senses were restored if not the headache which accompanied it.

Deftly swallowing a pair of pills from a container in his jacket Simon slipped out of the alley and strolled down the empty street towards Isabel with a quiet air. As he gave the her a quick glance up and down though his earlier frown returned; the girl's shoulders were hunched, one arm hugging her midriff while she chewed on the thumb of her other hand as she paced back and forth with eyes that glanced over him several without spotting him.

“Isabel?” The name was more question than greeting. The girl was temperamental at the best of times and the last thing he wanted to do was spook her. He’d let her make the next move.

The empty minutes following the ended phone call seemed to stretch on forever. Isabel's mind was racing, but she couldn't focus on much aside from the missing doors. It was like the static from the phone had slipped into her brain instead. How long ago had that call ended? How far away had Zephyr been when she'd called him and how long would it be before he finally made his appearance? Or maybe she'd misunderstood and he wasn't going to come find her after all. Would he hang up and ignore her like that? It seemed like something he might do. At the very least she wouldn't put it past him to take his time and let her panic on her own for a while.

She continued to pace and chew her fingers as new concerns and anxieties surfaced and warred with her existing panic. Once or twice she simply stopped and stared across the street but found she couldn't sit still for more than a few moments. Cars continued to pass and a few pedestrians hurried by on the opposite side of the street. Most of the traffic seemed to be moving away from where she'd just come from, either by choice or because the people attached to those sirens were corralling everyone away from the storm damage. She considered backtracking to see if she could figure out what the hell had happened, but couldn't manage to tear herself away from the not-Sanctuary.

Her thumb was starting to sting and she could taste blood. Her fingernail and the skin around it were being chewed down too far. She swapped to her pointer finger and flexed her other hand to alleviate the stinging she also felt along her side from gripping it too tightly. The discomfort pulled her just far enough out of her thoughts to hear her name being called, though it took another moment before she realized it.

A wave of relief hit her when she turned in the direction the voice had come from and spotted Zephyr standing not far from where she was pacing. How had she not seen him coming? How long had he been standing there? She wanted to be irritated but his stupid jerk face was too welcome a sight to hate at the moment. "Zephyr!" She quickly closed the distance between them and took hold of his arm so she could drag him back to where she'd been standing.

"It's gone, Zeph. Sanctuary should be right there but it's gone," she said, gesturing across the street with her free hand while the other kept hold of his arm like it was a lifeline. Her relief was starting to slip away under her panic again. It was getting to be overwhelming. She felt like she could cry. "How can it be gone, Zeph? How can a whole building just disappear? I need Sanctuary, Zephyr. That's my home, what am I supposed to do without it?

Watching Isabel as he was Simon couldn’t help but notice that change which came over the girl when heard her name. Her feet became rooted to the ground, back suddenly straightening as if struck while shoulders rose even as her head snapped in his direction revealing wide eyes and parted lips holding a captive breath as she sought him out.

The moment she did her entire posture changed again as she slumped forwards, a smile pulling at her lips as she breathed out and called his name with clear relief before all but dashing towards him. For a brief moment Simon thought she was going to hug him but the brunette seemed to catch herself at the last second, only bumping shoulders before clamping onto his arm arm tight enough to cause a twinge of pain even as his medication started to kick in.

That was going to leave a bruise.

Before he could even think of saying anything about it though he found himself being led, or rather dragged, back to the spot Isabel had been pacing across from where Sanctuary should have been. Planting her feet she started rambling and gesturing with her free hand towards the unfamiliar building, fear creeping back into her voice the longer she went on.

"It's gone, Zeph.

"I can see that-"

”Sanctuary should be right there but it's gone,

"Maybe you just misplaced it? He suggested with faux innocence."“Where did you last-”

"How can it be gone, Zeph?”

“I suppose it could have gone for a walk.” he answered with a shrug. If she wasn’t going to even pretend to listen nor was he. “have you tried-”

How can a whole building just disappear?

Simon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, having Isabel ignore him was nothing unusual honestly, however, he really didn’t need her descending into borderline hysterics again. And while it was tempting to give the girl a slap upside the head he rather doubted the passing squad cars would appreciate how much she needed it. Which unfortunately left him with only one other option.

Maybe if he tried one more time.

"Isa-"

"I need Sanctuary, Zephyr. That's my home, what am I supposed to -mph!?"

Suppressing a growl of irritation Simon didn’t let her finish. He turned, cupping the soubrettes chin with his free hand, tilting her head back and pressed his lips to hers, ignoring her muffled squeak of surprise as he held the kiss for several seconds until she fell silent. Then he lifted his head and placed a finger against her lips as he held her gaze.

“Isabel, I can’t help you if you won’t listen to me. Sanctuary is fine, it’s not here but it’s fine. I can explain this and take you back there,” Hopefully, he hadn’t actually tried going back through the rift but he’d felt air coming through from their side, “but I need you to calm down first alright?”

“Now, I’m going to move my finger and I want you take take deep breaths. If you start babbling again then I will stop you just like this, understood?”

Had Isabel actually stopped long enough to listen to anything Zephyr was saying she'd have been furious. It was bad enough that he was the one that wound up pulling her out of trouble far too often, but to call him for help again and have him mock her in the process would have put her right over the edge. She'd have been hard pressed not to stick a blade in his chest again, promise be damned.

But as things were she was too preoccupied with working herself back up into a panic as she tried to get the young man to understand the importance of the problem at hand. The Sanctuary was everything for her and she needed him to grasp the severity of the issue she was facing and start presenting solutions. But he didn't seem to be grasping and she was getting frustrated and if he wasn't going to understand and help then she would really be in trouble and she'd be completely lost and she would need to-

She was cut off mid sentence with a squeak, her whole body stiffening in surprise and a brief, intense flash of panic before she relaxed and melted just the littlest bit. Isabel wanted desperately to be angry about Zephyr shutting her up with a kiss yet again. He was getting much too confident with that move, even if so far it had been entirely effective. She really wanted to be angry, but her mind had finally gone quiet and that embarrassing familiarity was comforting and reassuring and it broke her focus away from the missing Sanctuary and her mounting concerns.

As his finger replaced his lips she simply blinked at him and tried to gather her thoughts again, her focus finally redirected long enough to hear what he was saying to her even if it didn't make much sense. She nodded in reply to the directions she was given, just barely managing not to launch into another bout of questioning when he dropped his hand. She eyed him warily as she made a show of taking a breath. Breathe in count to ten, breath out count to eleven. She turned her attention back to the not-Sanctuary without really thinking and then back to Zephyr again with a twinge of anxiety.

"What do you mean fine but not here? Where else is it supposed to be?" she asked, trying very hard to speak more slowly and to keep her voice steady but finding it difficult to accomplish. He'd said he'd take her back, but where was back? She seemed to be exactly where she wanted to be, but everything was still weirdly off and how would going somewhere else fix everything? How was he supposed to get her back to the Sanctuary when they were already there and it was missing? "I don't understand. What the hell is going on?"

Waiting until he received a nod of agreement from the girl Simon slowly lifted his finger from her lips and watched carefully as she drew a slow, deep breath. In all honesty he hadn’t been sure that would work, in fact he’d half expected to be on the receiving end of at least a right hook*;
getting away with it while they were both drunk as lords was hardly the same as doing it while sober after all.

Still, worked it had and while the brunette was looking at him with narrowed eyes and a certain amount of suspicion, she didn’t seem overtly angry with him. That she also hadn’t let go of his arm meant she still felt comfortable enough to keep him close… or just wanted to keep him in punching range, which was actually the same thing now that he thought about it. Regardless, he’d gotten her to listen, in record time actually and without violence, threats or any of her usual antics.

He might need to kiss her more often.

"What do you mean fine but not here? Where else is it supposed to be? I don't understand. What the hell is going on?"

Briefly, he debated cutting her off again right there, she’d barely taken one single after all and the hitch in her voice made it clear that she was still a ways from actually calming down. That said, she had technically done what he’d asked and it was probably better not to push his luck, not yet at any rate.

“Walk with me, please.” He added, nodding his head down the way they’d come and giving his captive arm a slight shrug to turn Isabel down the street.

“You’ve been in the city longer than I have, about a decade yes?” He asked once they started moving, following the intermittent police cruisers to back towards Madison garden, just another couple enjoying the city’s night air. “I’m guessing you’ve met quite a variety of mutants, have you ever met someone who could create portals? Just rip open thin air and create a door to somewhere else?”

He paused at a set of vending machines as he waited for her to answer, ordering a drink and tried to pay, first by card, and then by cash when it failed. “I’ve only read about them myself but the common trend is they can only create paths to places they know, their home, their town, maybe their entire country.” He continued, passing the drink to Isabel before continuing down the street.

“Now, what if we had a mutant who wasn’t limited to just places they knew, what if they could only open doors to places that were similar, but different?” He stopped at the edge of the crowd that had formed in the park just beyond the line of police tape and pointed to the tear in reality floating just a foot off the ground and police officers with slightly different uniforms staring back at each other from both sides.

“I think that would explain this rather well.”

Isabel both did and didn't want to leave the spot she'd rooted herself to. The disappearing Sanctuary had left her confused and uncomfortable and leaving the scene of the vanishing act didn't feel quite right. On the other hand Zephyr said he knew where Sanctuary had gone and as much as she hated to admit it she did trust him a little bit given that he'd rarely steered her wrong in situations like this one. He gave his arm a tug and she reluctantly followed after him, nervously glancing over her shoulder at the not-Sanctuary as they went.

Slowly she turned her attention back to the young man as he started talking again. "Abyss and his brothers could," she answered, trying and failing to recall any other individuals that she might have run across with a similar ability. "But theirs lead to nothing. Just a big void of nothingness and voices." She'd been there once after a scuffle at the Mansion had gone badly for her. It was an experience she'd be hard pressed to ever forget about, like nothing she'd ever done or likely would do ever again.

She finally relinquished his arm as he stopped to toy with a vending machine, irritated by the delay but still listening as he went on to continue rambling about portals. She stuck her thumb between her teeth again as she glanced around but dropped it with a wince almost immediately, having forgotten that she'd already chewed it raw. She wiped the freshly bleeding digit across the front of her shirt before accepting the drink Zephyr offered her. It was unexpected but appreciated and she took a generous sip after opening the bottle.

Once they started moving again she stuck close to him, but allowed him to go without the vice grip on his arm. The bottle in her hands kept them occupied and let her release a little nervous energy by twisting and turning it around. She wasn't so sure what all the portal talk was about, it didn't seem relevant. There hadn't been anyone worth noting since that storm had knocked her off her feet, and certainly not anyone popping around with portals. He may just have been trying to distract her again. There was only so far he could push it with things like kissing before she pushed back. His little speech, however, did ultimately culminate in an impressive show and tell.

How on earth had she missed that?

She nearly ran right into him when he stopped just short of joining the gathered crowd, her attention having been pulled away from Zephyr and over toward the unsettling rip floating in midair. How had she missed that? "What the hell is that?" she asked even as realization was slowly starting to hit her. She must have tumbled right trough the damn thing when she'd gotten tossed around and never even noticed. She had been too busy trying to get her head back on right and beat a retreat to avoid the incoming police to have bothered looking around for the source of the windstorm.

People were starting to edge away from her as she slid around Zephyr and pressed closer to the Rift, giving her a clearer path to the edge of the police tape and a better view of the spectacle that had drawn such a crowd. Some people were whispering, others who were already nearby recording the event on their phones split their attention between the anomaly and her. She'd forgotten all about the people she'd cut through in her hurry to get out of the panicking crowd before and in her own following panic she'd failed to realize that she was wearing a generous smattering of their blood. Still she failed to notice. Her attention was glued to the portal in front of them as she wormed her way right up to the tape barrier.

The police would still be an issue. She could see them on both sides of the tear and beyond them a few patrolling META bots. "I have to get back through there, Zeph. How are we supposed to get past all those bots?" she asked, not bothering to check that he'd followed after her before speaking. Cops she could handle but she'd been put down by bots before and she wasn't too keen on trying to fight the newest models.

One of the cops on the other side of the rip seemed to take notice of something, elbowing another individual beside him and pointing to confirm. A bot turned toward the rip and a shiver ran up Isabel's spine. Would they send the METAs across the portal? Could they get them back to the other side if they did? Could the two sides communicate with each other? She started the armor herself at the thought and slid a blade into her hand. She could feel a fight coming and she'd slaughter every one of those badges to get back on the right side of that portal if she had to. If she could just get clear of that line of bots maybe she could make a break for it and get herself back to the Sanctuary before they caught up.

More officers were starting to turn toward the crowd and she realized their attention was falling in her direction. Radios were being pulled out and spoken into. It probably wouldn't be long before a few of them tromped their way over. Did they know who she was on this side of the portal? They couldn't right? That meant the upper hand was hers.

The blade in her hand cut through the yellow tape as she started to advance. Isabel was going to get herself through that portal and back where she belonged. Zephyr would just have to try and keep up.

Isabel was a girl of action, this was a truth he’d learned many times over the years, whether it was confronting gangsters, chasing evading police or just canvassing the city like a demented spider, she was at her best when she had something to do. Quieter exploits, such as reading (cheesy romance if you’d believe it) or, surprisingly, painting were occasionally entertained but more often than not they left her pacing like a caged tiger.

Which was why it was so surreal to find the soubrette meekly following along like a lost kitten as he talked, though on reflection he supposed she rather was. Sanctuary had been more than its namesake to her over the years so to be suddenly destitute at a time when she needed its protection well, ‘lost’ would likely only begin to describe how the gamine felt

Which wasn’t to say he’d apologize for his earlier flippancy; indulging her when she’d been in near hysterics would not have improved the situation. However he would, perhaps, refrain from teasing the soubrette too much until she’d gotten her wits back, unless she truly asked for it.

Still, if nothing else Isabel's current timidity made her a wonderful listener and the gamines rather heartfelt reaction at the end of his little disquisition as she spotted the Rift managed to rouse an honest chuckle from the elemental, taking his eyes off her for a split second, which was of course when everything started to go wrong.

As a general rule blood spattered individuals tend to repel crowds while at the same time attracting all the attention like some form of schroedinger crafted magnet. So when Isabel strode straight to the front of the rabble littering the police line looking like she’d just finished painting a barn, people immediately melted away and more than a handful of cellphones turned in her direction.

Holding back a sigh Simon quickly mimicked the movements of the crowd, backing away before trying to circle around and catch the girl from the side. This sort of behaviour was why he threatened to put her on a leash. There was no thought involved for her, she just saw something she wanted and went. The police were already starting to look her way, which meant he now needed to lose their attention and the crowds. Irritating but since Isabel was still behaving it wasn’t impossible, he could just spin some tale about her being a victim in the aftermath of the tear and-

A white blade shot into her palm

On the outside of the crowd Simon bit back a curse and immediately stopped trying to reach Isabel. There was less than four feet separating the soubrette from the first officer between her and the rift. He wouldn’t make it before she took her first swing which meant he needed a distraction. He glanced at a squad car off to the left-

Hoooooonk!

The car horn shattered what little silence the night had left as almost everyone jumped at the sudden noise and whipped their heads around to stare at the empty vehicle, except for a certain dimension hopping bonemancer who abruptly who let out her second startled squeak of the evening as an invisible grip clamped down on her right wrist and wrenched her off into the shadows of the park like a vaudeville hook with a poor stage act.

Yes, that would do nicely.

A minute or so later, Simon had managed to walk around to the opposite and relatively empty end of the park. It was only relatively empty because one of the trees held a familiar brunette about a dozen feet up who was quietly cursing as she struggled with her right hand which seemed to be glued to the trunk of the tree.

“You know I’m curious.” He told her alighting on the branch beside her, releasing her hand and catching her just as she started to topple backwards. “You want to go home, I understand, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” He continued releasing her shoulders and holding up both hands when she glared at him. “But when you go to the trouble of calling me for help and then try to pick a fight right next to me, what do you expect to happen?”

“Yes, maybe you could have fought your way through, the META’s have malfunctioned before though never that many once, but what if there was an adapted? You wouldn’t realize until they were too close, is it really worth the risk? Especially when there’s an easier way?”

Seeing her look of confusion Simon resisted the urge to bring his hand to his face. “Isabel, you’re one of the few who know what I’m capable of.” He lifted a hand and slowly had it vanish into thin air in front of her. “Why would you risk your home on a fight with META’s when you could bypass them entirely? You’ve already asked for my help once, is it that hard to do it again?”

Dragged off and stuck in a tree was decidedly not where Isabel wanted to be at the moment. She'd been so close to getting through that rip and back on the right side of everything and Zephyr had to go and ruin it all. Again. He was always ruining everything. Now there was even more distance between herself and Sanctuary which would make the whole ordeal that much more difficult. Even if she did manage to get herself back to that police line she'd never get through the portal with Zephyr yanking her around every time she got close.

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe you could've backed me up?" she shot back, shaking him off even as he helped her stay upright on the branch he'd dropped her on. Honestly he'd been a second thought in the whole ordeal. She had been more concerned about getting herself past the police line than with whatever he might have done. She supposed she'd just assumed he'd follow after her or something. Sit on the sidelines and let her do the dirty work like usual. Sit and yammer while she made a break for it. Something that wasn't spiriting her away, in any case.

Bracing her hand against the trunk of the tree now that it wasn't glued there anymore, she swung one leg up and over the branch she was sitting on so she could straddle it and get a more stable seat. She didn't need him grabbing at her every few minutes whenever she wobbled too far over the side of the branch. Not that she planned on sitting up there all day, but he was a big enough jerk that she wouldn't put it past him to make her stay up there until he'd made whatever point he had and decided their conversation was over. "I'm fast enough. I know the back streets. I could've made a run for it," she insisted, choosing not to admit that the possibility of an Adapted being in the crowd hadn't crossed her mind. The bots had been much more concerning at the time.

Whatever other method he was hinting at went over her head initially before he made a demonstration of himself to get the point across. The ghosting. Of course. "Well I didn't think of that," she sulked, peering over the edge of the branch she was perched on to judge the distance to the ground. She could just jump, but shimmying down the trunk was probably the smarter option. Breaking a bone wasn't ever a concern, but the bruising would be annoying. "You could've said something before we got there, instead of teasing me. You know what I am. If I have to cut my way through something to get where I need to go, then that's what I'm going to do. I'm not gonna stand around and wait for you to offer suggestions." It was his fault, really. He knew better. She had to get home. There was no way she was just going to stand around and let him keep running his mouth while the way out was right in front of them.

Ready to be done with the conversation at hand and get herself back to that portal, she started to gather her legs under her so she could get herself out of the tree. She hardly got very far we she was suddenly hit with a hot, stinging sensation in the middle of her back just so the left of her spine. She cursed and shot a glare at Zephyr, assuming he had been the source. But the stinging didn't dissipate like it would have had the young man used a short burst of air to smack her, like he had done in the past. As it sat for a few moments it started to feel more like a nasty insect sting, prompting her to try and reach the place on her back where the irritation was and finding it to be just out of her reach.

She cursed again, rolling one of her shoulders and settling on bringing a section of bone to the surface of her skin and pushing out what she assumed to be some kind of stinger. Except that she couldn't seem to get her bones to cooperate. She willed her body to act and nothing happened. Panic rose like bile in her chest again, fast enough to disorient her and leave her digging her fingers into the bark of the tree to keep from slipping off. "Zeph, I can't-," she started, finding herself feeling a little breathless and  trying to speak around a lump in her throat that her voice was having difficulty passing. "My bones, I can't-... My mutation's not working, Zeph."

Was it this place? No, she'd had a blade in her hand back at the portal. She'd been able to slide it into her palm with hardly any effort, just like she always had. Something else was going on. Something very wrong was happening.

Arguing with Isabel, because almost every conversation with her became an argument, was much like trying to deal with a certain farm yard animal. No matter how you bribed, goaded or threatened, at the end of the day you were both filthy and even if you got your way you weren’t happy about it.

That didn’t mean he hadn’t learned anything however, what was the axiom?, ‘Wisdom stems from experience while experience comes from a lack of wisdom.’

When it came to Isabel, he had a great deal of experience.

Thus when his recalcitrant partner started her responses with a sterling round of the blame game accompanied by dodge the question Simon merely sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as the brunette squirmed to face him. “I could have” he agreed wearily, “between the two of us we could pull it off,” he spread his arms and shrugged, “but then what?”

“You’re a known quantity Isabel, it doesn’t matter how well you know the backstreets if the NYPD know where you’re going.” He told her simply without any sort of admonishment as he crossed his legs atop the branch, balance and physics were really more of an afterthought when you could fly. “There’s been an uneasy truce between groups like Sanctuary and the NYPD ever since the Metas became commonplace. Public massacres, or at least undisguised public massacres have stopped, and in exchange the Metas haven’t swarmed known mutant refuges like starving locusts. I’d prefer to keep things that way, especially when we have other options.”

In reality it was unlikely the Metas would ever recieve such an order, officially at least. Even after all these years memories of the Registration Act and the Camps were still too fresh in the minds of the public and any politician who tried something similar would be signing the death warrant for their career.But sending a raid after a single individual? One who’d been caught on camera killing police and civilians alike? Whose love for wanton violence was only slightly less famous than her posters? That, that was possible and it would set a dangerous precedent that the hessian would rather avoid for as long as possible.

Explaining all of that would take more time than Isabel likely had patience for and so he focused on what he knew would grab her attention, a threat to her home. It was admittedly somewhat underhanded given the girls emotional state but it didn’t make his words any less true or effective. Indeed as he spoke and demonstrated his ‘other method’ he saw the soubrette mood shift as her shoulders hunched and her lips pouted.

Then she admitted she hadn’t thought of anything else and tried to blame him for failing to read her mind.

Simon very carefully did no sigh, he did however raise his gaze skywards in a silent question before briefly rapping his knuckles against the girl's forehead and nodded to himself at the decidedly solid thunk that accompanied it.

“Oh good there is still something in there, I was worried you were just a pretty face for a moment.” He explained, no small amount of teasing in his tone even as he drew his hand back before she could slap it away.

“Think carefully for a moment Isabel, you’ve thought of loopholes often enough so I know you can. Do you really want to make that argument? That you have no control over your actions and are just following your nature?” He leaned in and the playful tone fell from his voice. “That’s what an animal does Isabel, should I treat you like one? Is that what you want when you say ‘I should know better’? Do you want to be k-”

Cutting himself off Simon glanced down with a silent curse as his spatial sense flickered and then died like an aged light bulb, leaving the night far darker in his mind than it had been before but still providing enough contrast for him to make out a solitary figure standing just below them with one arm raised-

Pfft

In the corner of his vision Isabel jumped as though stung and Simons head whipped up watch her and catch her if need be, but other than a curse and a betrayed look in his direction she didn’t say anything. She hadn’t realized; which meant she hadn’t been hit with an actual bullet, meaning they were wanted alive…. Hopefully, and there were precious few ways to bring a violent mutant in alive even with an adapted.

Odds were good she’d just been hit with a tranquilizer, meaning they were on borrowed time.

“Zeph, I can't-, my bones, I can't-... My mutation's not working, Zeph." Her words were laboured as she struggled to breathe past her quickly returning panic, colour draining from her face

Even as she spoke though Simons eyes were back on the figure below, tracking the raised arm as it moved ever so slightly towards his own position while one own hand darted into his jacket and the other braced against the tree branch.

One of the few benefits of being a foreigner, and a mutant come to that, was that Americans never expected you to own a gun, despite how easy it was to get one. It was a folly he rarely bothered correcting just because of how useful it was; case in point-

CLACK

-it was always remarkably satisfying watching an attacker run for cover when they realized you were armed. Annoyingly though, on this occasion he hadn’t missed on purpose, still he bought a few moments and he used them to again rap his knuckles against Isabel head to distract her from her panic to quickly outline the situation.

“Adapted right below us, might have friends but definitely armed. Split up and take him out when we get out range.” So saying Simon quickly shifted his grip on the branch and let himself tumble off the branch to swing to the ground below.

Mutation or no mutation, when you had the ability to fly you learned how to fall. He just hoped he wasn’t too out of practice.

It was a rare thing for Isabel to find herself unable to make use of her mutation. She could probably count the occasions it had happened on one hand. The worst case had of course been during her time in the Camps. She'd have been incredibly uneasy even in a neutral situation without the use of her mutation. but with the impending fight and the trauma of the Registration added to the mix she was nearly mindless with the rising panic. She relied so heavily on her mutation, especially in fights, that without it she was at a loss and felt that the best option would be to cut her losses and make a run for it. But in this place there wasn't anywhere to run to. She felt not only unarmed, but trapped.

The sound of the gun going off so close to her nearly made her leap out of her skin, the death grip she had on the branch beneath her the only thing saving her from tumbling out of the tree in surprise. She ducked under the feeling of Zephyr's knuckles against her head and would have taken a swipe at him had she not already felt so unbalanced. He got her attention, though, and she tried to push her panic back enough to process what he was telling her before he disappeared from his perch.

Adapted, armed, probably more than one. That would explain the stinging in her back. What the hell had she been hit with? Not a regular bullet. She'd been shot at enough times to know what a bullet felt like. It was something else, but what? Rubber bullets? Tranquilizers? Her panic refreshed at the thought. Did her balance feel off because someone was trying to drug her, or was it just her own disorientation? What would happen if they put her out before she could get out of range and make a break for it? The hell were they trying to do anything to her in the first place? Who the hell was after them?

The sound of Zephyr hitting the ground below her pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts just enough to jump start her need to escape and get her moving. Unfortunately she didn't have as much practice with falling as the young man did and with her hands already shaking from nerves her descent from the tree was less than graceful. It was hard to focus on where to put her feet and where the lower branches were. She wound up in more of a slow tumble out of the tree than anything else, landing hard on her feet and fumbling back onto her rear. The bottoms of her feet and her ankles were stinging from the impact, but she couldn't waste any time to let the soreness fade or check for injuries. She could still move everything and that was all that mattered. Scrambling up off the ground she tried to make a note of which direction Zephyr had gone in so she could head the other way. Split up, get out of range, take the attacker out.

But where was out of range? How big exactly was an Adapted's range? And what if there was more than one? Could they outrun a group of the bastards long enough to get a chance to access their abilities? It was getting dark and the Park had enough cover to hide a number of individuals. If Zephyr had just let her make a break for it back at the portal they wouldn't even be in this situation. At least with the bots she could still try to skewer them.

Something whizzed by her face and clipped her ear, drawing a string of curses from her as she skid to a clumsy almost-stop and redirected her course. Continually she attempted to get something from her abilities and kept coming up empty. There had to be more than one of those people scattered around the area. If they somehow knew enough about her to target her, then they'd know better than to send one person to try and take her down. She'd decimated entire squads of officers on her own before. Even an Adapted didn't stand much of a chance against her by himself.

The thought bolstered her just enough to dissipate a little of her panic and make room for her temper to begin to flare. Isabel was a one woman war machine when she had access to her mutation. Without it she was a shadow of her normal self, but she wasn't entirely helpless even if it felt like she was. There was no reason she couldn't kill a man with her bare hands if only she could get a hold on him.

Something bit into her thigh, causing her to stumble and to curse again. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of the individual that had landed a second shot on her. She swiped a hand across her leg to dislodge whatever it was that had struck her and readjusted her course again to aim straight for the offending individual. Her nerves were frayed and her panic was still gripping tightly around her chest, but she was also getting angry. Incredibly, murderously angry. How dare they? How dare these people attack her in this strange place with no provocation? She hadn't done anything in this world yet to earn herself this kind of attention. But at the end of this ordeal they'd all know exactly who she was.

She managed to catch hold of one of his legs as he was turning to make a break for it, dragging him to the ground with her. Had she made a dive for him or had she stumbled again? It was difficult to tell which, but there wasn't time to waste on figuring it out. Her thoughts were starting to grow blurry, either from blinding rage or what they had been trying to dose her with. In any case it didn't take much clarity of mind to beat a man to death. She got a knee to the chin as she scrambled to get on top of him, slowing her for a moment as her mouth filled with blood but not stopping her as she scrambled to get her hands around his neck.

He thrashed and squirmed, nearly succeeding in throwing her off but she managed to plant herself above him. He yanked at her arms and struck at her face as she dug her fingers into his neck, slipping once or twice but ultimately getting a solid grip. She thought she felt her nose break at one point, red spattering beneath her as she fought to breath through the gush. It wouldn't be long before at least one of the bastard's little friends showed up for support, but she'd be damned if she didn't take at least one of them down before they got to her.

People like to say that there are some things you never forget; they will point towards a bicycle as exhibit and claim that there are just some facts or activities so simple or instinctive that, once learned can never be forgotten.

As he lay on the ground clutching his ankle, with his pistol having fallen several feet away, Simon reflected that such people were, to borrow Duskmoors parlance, ‘filthy liars’.

Annoyingly though there wasn’t much he could do about it at present, a broken ankle was a broken ankle and all it did was make him a rather attractive target. A notion which a confirmed a mere moment later when he felt something bite into his ribs with all the force of an irritated wasp on nitrous which, depressingly, was still sufficient to knock the elemental onto his back leaving him staring at the inkspun sky, clutching his chest beneath his jacket and pondering precisely how he’d gotten to this point when he heard the tentative approach of footsteps.

So they were wanted alive after all, that was reassuring, if also somewhat disturbing.

He waited until the footsteps were close enough to discern the silhouette of their owner, confirm it wasn’t Isabel, before angling his hand beneath his coat and pulling the trigger on his back up ‘pocket pistol’. There was a muffled ‘clack’ and then the figure went down, clutching their hip and cursing as Simon quickly clambered to his feet and retrieved his fallen primary pistol before beating a hasty hobbled retreat out of the park.

Funny thing about broken ankles, when you used pharmacy grade opioids as mints painkillers they stopped being debilitating injuries so much as minor irritants that simply promised to get worse. Still, it was a trade off he’d gladly take if it let him get outside the adapted range and back into the air. He’d just have to hope that any other pursuit would stop help their injured comrade and that Isabel could get by on her own for the next minute or so.

So the world was going to hell in a handbasket; at least that was everything that was being said over the radio. Reports were coming in about mass hysteria, seeing tears in the fabric of reality, and a litany of other buzzwords that were better fitted to the penny dreadfuls than anything that belonged in the real world. Of course the concept of the “real world” was suddenly being tossed up for speculation as well; what was real and what was fantasy? It seemed that today of all days, both those concepts would sit hand-in-hand.

Poseidon didn’t venture out often to these reported events on his own but today he wanted to have a eyewitness seat to the goings on. The man prided himself in knowing what was going on in his city and while he could have easily just sent out one of his informants to collect information, he wanted to see these reported goings on with his own two eyes. There was something to be said about witnessing these matters first hand and -- upon arriving -- Jorge had to admit that this was certainly one of those times.

Leaving his car parked around the corner, the sharply dressed man observed from the shadows as events unfolded. The portal, the tear, whatever you want to call it, it was actually fairly indescribable; the closest resemblance he could come up with was like looking at a torn seam in the very air itself and watching a piece of cellophane whip in the breeze. Around the frayed edges, a shimmer of light could be seen, more blinding than anything possible, but the dead center, if one looked closely enough, they could see the movement of a world just on the other side.

Absolutely extraordinary. It seemed that the mad conspiracists had finally had one of their crazed theories validated. There was no way this could be counted off as nothing more than swamp gas or light reflecting off of Venus to create the odd illusion or two. No, it seemed that the fridges of science were finally going to be given the spotlight that they deserved -- River would be quite happy to hear that.

But it would seem that there was more to observe than just the the utter destruction of known physics; something far more grounded in what the man was familiar with would come thundering to his door step.

From his vantage point, Jorge observed the duo that came drifting through the scene. One, a thin young man and other, a buxom lass with propensity for very large bows -- how intriguing. Aside from the obvious “Odd Couple” vibe that the duo gave off, Jorge was about to turn his attention away from them and back to the portal, when something caught his eye. The woman was agitated, even he could tell that from this distance, but that wasn’t what garnered his attention, the was the appearance of something thin and slender in her hand. Interesting…

She marched, bravely towards the portal but as quickly as the knife was summoned, the woman was gone, snatched out of thin air...or rather, snatched away by the air. Jorge caught that ruffle of a sudden breeze as it swept up the young woman and planted her firmly astride an extra large tree branch. Next to her, the young man from before was there, this one almost amused by the sight. He couldn’t hear anything that they were saying but they seemed to be concocting some sort of plan -- until they were interrupted.

Jorge saw them before the others did. The single individual in the cheap suit, a SUPER field agent if he ever saw one. From his jacket he pulled a tranquilizer gun where he managed to peg one of the tree-riding mutants. Panic ensued with the other two as they realized that whatever tricks they had been capable of before was now suddenly gone. That could only mean that he must have been an adapted -- perfect.

The scene unraveled faster as the agent broke into a run, attempting to escape from the sudden addition of gunplay. It seemed that the mutant was well prepared for all eventualities, but Jorge knew of something that the other was probably unaware, there was more than one agent out there. The two dropped from their vantage point and split up in order to escape their attackers but with this much SUPER activity in the area, and only more to follow, Jorge knew that they wouldn’t make it out of the park without being collected.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Jorge tapped a quick dial button and sighed as he held it to his ear. ”Duke? Get ready to bring the car around. It seems we have some strays to pick up.”

---

The was like a caged tiger. When Jorge had stepped onto the scene, she was like a rabid animal trying to defend herself at all cost. It was that will to survive, that spark of the animal that make his grin so diabolically. A mutant with that much incentive to live, even in the shadow of the end of the world, certainly that should at least earn her an audience with him.

Wild grunts and hisses filled the air as she and the agent struggled to gain the upper hand. The air was heavy with the scent of blood and the shrieks of pain. It was the music that the sadistic crime loved to dance to in private. However, for as entertaining as it was, it was time for him to take action. The last thing he wanted was to be rounded up with the rest of the riffraff.

Too preoccupied with the woman whom he was fighting, the agent struggled to gain the upper hand, flipping her onto her back and climbing on top to pin her down. There was nothing elegant or charming about this fight, but rather it was turning into a wild display of survival of the fittest -- and she was losing. Still, none saw the tall, shadowy figure of a hispanic man as he strolled out from behind a tree line, dressed in an impeccable suit of dark, slate grey, a black button up, and a tie of silver. As he marched, unimpeded, up to the struggling pair, the man’s movements were swift as he slipped his hand into his jacket and removed from a hidden holster a pistol plated in gold.

The barrel was pressed to the agent’s head, away from young woman’s direction. This caused the man to stiffen and turn his eyes in Jorge’s direction. All that he was met with was a cheerful smile as the crimeboss dipped his head towards him.

”Evenin’,” and, without pause, squeezed the trigger. The bullet tore through bone and flesh, causing a burst of ichor to fly, bringing with it the agent’s hidden aspirations to mimic Jackson Pollock across a canvas of emerald grass draped in night. Jorge breathed, slumped his shoulders, and tucked his gun back into his jacket as he peered down at the young, bow-wearing woman. He extended a hand towards her. ”Ooooh, Sweetheart...aren't you in a heap of trouble?” A pause...then he offered her his hand.