Irish Tower Pub and Grill. There was no bigger den of lowlifes. At least that is what Vicente could tell as he sat at the bar, sipping from a glass of whiskey and chewing on some bar peanuts. The man liked to consider himself a connoisseur of bars. After all, he did spend much of his time in them. Not that he was by any means, a drunk of anything. Oh no, far be it. The man could sit and nurse a single drink for the majority of the night. But his line of work normally forced the man to spend the majority of time in bars. It was surprising the amount of times his clients assigned him to take the hit on someone who wasted their lives away surrounded by alcohol and smoke.

Because of that, Vicente did visit many bars and each time he was surprised by the subtle differences in-between them. To most people, all they saw was a dark, dank hole that held withered husks of older human beings, or those youths that did not understand the dangers that they were about to face. But these places could be surprising from time to time. Where one would have rather nice décor, another would be filled with people who all know each other by their first names. Yes, even these dens of vice could hold some wonderment…

The Irish Tower Pub and Grill, though? No. There was nothing special about this place. The only thing that made it special, that drew Vicente’s attention within, was the fact that his latest target was sitting in the back, laughing boisterous manner with his chums.

Vicente sat at the bar, dressed in a leather jacket with his hair hanging loose about his shoulders. He pretended to be looking down at the old, chipped away bar top, while he watched his target out of the corner of his eye. Another sip of whiskey and the man sighed.

Trevor Hogman was a man. A large man. A petty man. The very large and round individual was the self-proclaimed leader of an anti-mutant group calling themselves the Redeemers. Sweat dotted his forehead as he reached up and brushed back his spikey red hair. He laughed loud as one of his compatriots said a humorous anecdote and farted in the process. Real humanitarians they were. They pledged to rid the city of the genetic freaks known as mutants.

Normally while Vicente did not care so much to be on one side or the other of the mutant/anti-mutant debate, the actions of this group was causing more police presence in the mafia’s territories. Obviously…that cannot be tolerated. They refused to listen to Falcone’s demands so that meant only one thing…they needed to be taken care of. Their leader’s head on a pike should send the right message.

Vicente cracked his neck to the side as he pretended to look longing down at the bar top, lamenting something unknown, that no one would ever catch onto.

As he sat there, though, he overheard this groups most recent exploits.

Trevor snorted again as he shook his head. “That was awesome man! The way that stupid little freak was crying and begging! So classic!!”

Another of his comrades laughed and downed his bear. “She was hysterical! Kept crying not to cut the tendon on her wing! ‘Wah wah! I’ll never fly again!’” He chuckling in a mocking voice. “She deserved it!”

“Yeah! Can’t have freaks like that polluting our skies!”

“Here! Here!!”

Vicente shook his head in an invisible manner as he stared at the bar top. They just needed to be a little more drunk before he could make his move. He sighed as the jukebox, glowing like a neon demon in the corner suddenly began to play “Strangers in the Night” amidst the sounds of laughing, coughing and farting…

Isabel was on a self-appointed mission. She didn't often go out of her way to track down some human lowlife without some incentive. Usually her scuffles weren't premeditated. Unless Zephyr was involved, that is. His recent presence in her life had kept her relatively busy and entertained and had forced her to stop and behave while things were planned out and orders were issued. It was fun, but it was also nice to be out on her own with the chance to act as her own boss for a while.

The young woman that had convinced her to wander into the Irish Tower Pub and Grill wasn't even aware of it. She was probably still back at the Sanctuary resting in the Infirmary. There was only so much the healers could do. The tendons that had been severed in her gorgeous Macaw wings had been mended, but the shock of the act and her fear of never being able to fly again had mentally shaken her and last Isabel had heard the young woman was still convinced that she was grounded for good. She was sure the girl would get off the ground again eventually, it would just take some time and work.

She'd managed to at least get a description of the man from the lovely parrot mutant before she'd stopped bothering the poor thing. From there she'd taken advantage of some of the connections the Order had cultivated in order to gain names. The name of the rat who was in charge of the operation and the name of the bar where him and his goons tended to frequent in order to drink and laugh about their little triumphs.

She had settled in a couple of hours prior to the anti-mutant worm and had waited as patiently as she could for him to arrive with his entourage and begin drinking. Her temper only got worse as their laughter got louder and their conversations less guarded as rounds of drinks were delivered and consumed. She'd dug a number of deep gouges into the high table she'd settled into at one corner of the bar. A drink probably would have calmed her down a bit, but she had sworn off alcohol while she was in public places. Unless she was locked in her room and comfortably alone, she wouldn't be drinking.

Her temper peaked when she caught a part of their inconsiderately loud conversation that had steered toward the young woman that she'd personally escorted to the Infirmary. There was a blade in her hand in an instant and she was on her feet and moving toward their table before she realized she'd made the decision to do something about the rodents.

The fat man was in the back corner of the booth. He was at least clever enough to keep his back to the wall while three of his associates sat on either side of him, one to his right and two to his left. Isabel wasn't paying any attention to the number of men. She was too busy seeing red, her focus on the fat face of the main offender.

She really snapped when she saw the less that decent look he shot her as she approached.

With a sound of utter outrage escaping her, she launched herself at the fat worm. Of course the table got in the way, the edge of the thing slamming into her pelvis as Hogman seemed to panic and shoved it in her direction, forcing her to lurch forward. It was a favorable enough maneuver for her, though it hurt like hell. She lashed out at him with her blade, aiming to drag the sharp edge across his neck.

However, all she managed to do was put a gash in his jacket as one of his cohorts grabbed her upper arm and yanked. The table was further upset by another goon quickly getting to his feet and producing a gun. The third was moving away from the scuffle, perhaps to make a phone call and get some help.

Another cry of outrage was given when the pressure on her arm registered in her mind, her attention snapping toward the offending man. Immediately a number of spines sprouted from her skin to skewer the offending hand. A grin crossed her features at the responding howl of pain.

A gun cocked on the other side of her as she turned her attention back to her main target. A loud bang! immediately followed.

Isabel was forced to pause in her assault as a searing pain spread across the left side of her ribcage. She hadn't been stupid enough to go after the man without a layer of armor under her skin, but at such a close range the force of the bullet was enough to crack and splinter the hastily constructed mode of protection.

She could feel blood seeping into her shirt. It wasn't a deep wound, nor was it very serious, but it hurt like a bitch and would eventually be the cause of a decent amount of blood loss. "Son of a bitch!" she gasped as the pain abated just barely enough to allow her to breathe freely again, her free hand flying up to cover the wound. She had taken a short number of steps back away from the table with the impact of the shot, but the goons weren't going to get away from her. She just needed a second to regain her composure.

Vicente was perfectly calm. Their talk was irritating but it was nothing he had not heard before. Maybe times when he is hunting he had to listen to the atrocities that some men could commit. Yes, Vicente was a killer, but he was not a torturer unless it was asked of him. He normally made his kills fast and easy. He did not have the pure sadistic streak of committing such acts on living beings simply for the pleasure of hearing them scream. Such was not in case for Hogman and his crew. They attacked and mutilated mutants simply for the pleasure of it.

They were slime.

The city would be better without them anyways. But first…they needed to leave this bar. He’d follow them slowly and subtly and when the time was right and he knew they were good and inebriated, he’d make his move.

But…sometimes even the best laid plans, no matter how well they are thought out, completely go to hell. As was going to be the case.

As he sat there, trying to wait the group out, he suddenly caught the sight of movement off his side: a younger woman, probably around her twenties, who suddenly made her presence known. She stormed off from a corner table and made a beeline directly for a table nearby. A table that he himself had been waiting for this whole time…

Dammit! What the hell…? he thought to himself as she felt her move swiftly behind him and heard the scream.

The commotion was hard to miss. Stepping away from the barstool as soon as the fighting started, Vicente watched just like any other interested citizen within the bar. It was late so there were not as many of them except for a bartender and a couple of other patrons, but they would still be liabilities. But most of all, the worst liability was this woman who suddenly deemed it fit to throw herself into the fray.

Vicente stepped back. And he watched. And…admired.

First of all, the girl was certainly a fine slip of a thing. A man had to not have a heartbeat to feel nothing at all. But what was most attractive was the simple and pure ferocity that the woman displayed. She aggressive beyond all belief and lashed out with a rage that Vicente had never thought he could encounter in someone else. She was a beast in a young twenty-something year old body. He shook his head and casually smirked as he watched her lash out at Hogman with a knife but this immediately drew the attention of his lackeys.

One screamed out as he shot back away from her, his hand and arm bleeding from where he had it on her arm, the other produced a gun and fired at nearly point blank range. To most that would have been the end of the story but…it was different this time. The woman staggered, held her side, but she was not going down. She looked more irritated at the gunshot than actually fearing for her life.

That was definitely one tough cookie...

>> "Son of a bitch!"

Vicente smirked. He didn’t know her. But he was liking her more by the second. Pity she had to storm in like a bull in a china shop and ruin his carefully laid out plan.

“Who this is nutjob?!” one of the men yelled out as he stood up, brandishing his own knife.

Hogman held his neck where there was a shallow cut and snorted. A malevolent look passed across his face eyed the girl closely. “Well, well pretty. Just what are you doing in a dangerous place like this?”

The other cohort, the one who had tried to snatch her arm and received a pin-needle surprise, held his injured hand as he grabbed his own gun from his belt. “She’s a freak! One of dem muties!! You see what she did to me?!”

Hogman only smirked as he turned back to face her, watching her bleed over her hand. “That was a stupid move, kid. A very stupid move.” He nodded to one of the men with a gun. “Put two bullets into her kneecaps. Now!”

Another of the men ran back, looking breathless. By this point the rest of the patrons and the bartender had left the room, not wanting to bear witness to what was sure to come next. “Trevor, I just called the cops. Let them handle the freak!”

“NO! I want her incapacitated and now! We’ll show her what happened when she screws with the Redeemers!”

A sadistic and pleasurable grin flashed between the men as they all turned their gazes upon the newcomer. No psychic was needed to read their minds. But as they maneuvered, shoving tables out of their way and advancing there was a sudden whirling sound in the air. It was only for a split second and it was followed by a glint of light. But after that moment, it was followed by a man shouting and screaming bloody murder.

Vicente stepped from the shadows, eyes narrowed in on Hogman and his crew. One of his graphite knives has struck home, digging deep into one of the gunman’s shoulders. Blood poured from the wound as the graphite blade began to break and cause splinters to embed into the muscle and flesh beneath. Very…very painful…

The old assassin smirked as he looked eyes on leader of the Redeemers. “Hogman…Falcone has a message for you…”

He could care less about the girl and that fact that she was bleeding all over herself. So long as she did not take his kill from him…

While Hogman and his goons shouted back and forth and shot nasty glances in Isabel's direction, her fingers were working to dig the bullet out of her side. Her face was screwed up into an expression of pained anger as he layer o bone that had been damaged by the shot repaired itself and helped to push the bullet back up through her skin where she could get a hold of it and toss it onto the floor. Once the invading object had been removed, the bone beneath her skin sprouted a number of very thin, thread-like tendrils and closed the wound up. She would need to patch it properly later on, but for now it would be sufficient to stop the bleeding.

She was thoroughly disgusted by the trio of men as the head honcho seemed to make a decision as to what was to be done with the bone manipulator for her interference. If she'd thought they were worms before, she now knew they weren't any better than dirt. She heard the order for one of the men to take out her kneecaps and simply smirked. He was certainly welcome to try. It might put her down for a moment, but she wouldn't stay down.

She watched one of them take aim and gave him a malicious grin, brandishing the blade still in her grasp. However, before anyone could make another move, one of the henchmen was suddenly struck by something, a spray of crimson catching the dim light and decorating the nearby table that had managed to avoid being overturned. The second gunman's firearm discharged as he started, the unanticipated attack on his companion having startled him. Fortunately for her, the bullet only grazed her calf, rather than striking her knee, as intended.

Irritated by the sudden interruption, Isabel turned her attention away from the group of men, perhaps unwisely, and spun on the newcomer as he emerged from a shadowy section of the bar. The nerve of the guy! Barging in on her fight and seemingly targeting a man she'd already targeted herself. "Back off, Crater Face!" she snapped at the stranger, angling her body so she could keep and eye on him while at the same time turning the majority of her attention back on the men she was after. "No one invited you!"

The blade in her hand rapidly elongated, allowing her a longer reach. If the newcomer was determined to step on her toes and impede on her mission, she would just have to sacrifice a little bit of fun in favor of speeding things up. This was her game, and she wasn't prepared to take on a teammate.

Ignoring the lackey clawing at his injured shoulder in a poor attempt to stem the bleeding and remove whatever it was that was causing him so much pain, as well as the second gunman and the man that had alerted the police, she set her sights squarely on the fat man in charge. Launching herself in his direction, she hoisted herself up and over the table in her way and watched him begin to scramble as she brought her blade around. She'd grazed him already. It was time to finish the job.

A bit dramatic for an entrance, Vicente realized that. But it got the point across. He was not known for his theatricality, but the assassin knew he needed to draw the attention off the wounded girl. She was horning in on his job and hopefully his saving her would give her to hint to vamoose. He did not have the patience to look out for some novice mutant avenger who threw herself into the line of fire. Despite how impressive she was, she was only a liability. Take the hint and run, girlie. Take the hint and run your pretty rear end out of this game…

>> "Back off, Crater Face! No one invited you!"

Siiiiiiiigh…

Vicente heard the comment and could only mentally shake his head. Really? It seemed as if lately his jobs were not becoming any easier. People get wandering into them that simply had no reason to be there. And all because of one stupid decision or another. He was getting sick and tired of these people. So…again…he shook his head and grumbled a cuss in Spanish at the girl’s intervention…

He was about to turn to tell her to where she shove that comment when she suddenly dove for Hogman again. She vaulted onto the table and swung out with her blade. That…simply could not be allowed.

With a snarl, the man suddenly kicked out and struck the table that the girl had leapt upon. As he did, his heavy boot careened the table out of place and should have effectively prevented the girl from delivering another death blow to the sweaty, red-faced anti-mutant bigot. Vicente was in no mood to share his bounty with someone again. Once in his lifetime was enough…

“That’s enough outta you, Sweetcheeks,” Vicente snarled. “Carry yourself outta here now. Hogman is mine…”

It was just as he did that that one of the other lackey’s decided to get brave and launch himself at Vicente. The older assassin snarled as he spun fast and caught the man by his throat. Fingers tensing on soft flesh until he could practically feel the bone preparing to jut out. But even as he squeezed the man struggled and fought hard before finally delivering a blow, his elbow, directly to Vicente’s shoulder. The assassin was used to pain but unfortunately the man stumbled upon a pressure point that loosened the assassin’s grip just enough to drop him and send him tackling straight into Vicente’s mid-section.

Vicente gasped as he felt himself pinned against the bar. A glance up and he watched Hogman hightailing out down the back hallway, towards the exit.

Dammit! he growled in his thoughts…

Isabel almost had the guy. She had been thisclose. She'd been just about to show Hogman his own innards when the table she'd decided to scramble over suddenly shifted beneath her. It was a rather violent shift and she was unable to properly catch her balance and land on her feet. The table had been shoved sideways, and as such her feet had gone with it a part of the way, sweeping her legs out from under her at a bit of an odd angle.

Her hand caught the floor first, then her shoulder followed closely by her hip. It hurt like a bastard. She couldn't help the small cry that escaped her as she hit the ground. She would have some nasty bruises from that fall. She was just lucky she'd managed to avoid hitting her head. Vaguely she was aware of the intruder growling something at her amidst the string of curses she was spitting. That ass! She was so going to repay that favor somehow.

While she caught sight of one lackey going after the interloper as Hogman made his escape, she threw her foot into the nearest goon as he got closer to her, likely suspecting she was an easy target from her current position. She caught him square in the gut and got back to her feet as he doubled over and tried to catch his breath. Taking the blade she'd intended for the boss man, she made use of it to dispatch the crony instead, leaving a neat hole in his midsection.

Pausing to glance at Crater Face and the man he was playing with and then the door Hogman had disappeared through, she gave the older man a grin. He obviously didn't want her to be the one to get rid of the head of the Redeemers, and that was just one more reason on her list to get it done. She gave the old man a small salute and dashed after the escaping fat man. "Later, Gramps!"

The goon was lucky that Vicente had momentarily lost is guard. When the man had plowed into him and shoved him hard against the barstool, Vicente snarled as he struggled to get the upper hand. It was not such much that the lackey was stronger than him, it was more that the man knew how to escape and grapple with the best of them. The assassin was quickly losing patience though because he knew that this moment was going to lost him time later on. A glance up and he already saw Hogman dashing down the hall and to another door.

Not good, the assassin growled.

But, with a gasp, he drove his elbow down into his assailant’s back and momentarily dislodged him. It was just enough so that the much stronger and much water killer could wrap his strong arm over his attacker’s neck and hold him tight against his hip.

The man gasp and flailed as he smacked and slapped at Vicente’s body but the assassin did nothing to loosen his grip. Obviously that would be beyond the point. But as he felt the man, he watched another irritating sight unfold.

The girl, the one whom he commanded to leave the bar was still jumping into the fray. After her rather embarrassing and heavy tumble, he watched her wince in pain but still able to divert her attention to one of the lackeys whom had attempted to take her down while she was distracted. Even Vicente winced as he witness that thin foot slam into the man’s mid-section.

Impressive, he thought as he felt his own attacker gradually began to weaken more and more as Vicente continued to apply pressure to his throat. Feeling him stagger to his knees, Vicente glanced down at him for only a moment but when he looked up again, he watched the bow-haired young lady eviscerate her attacker before she turned to him and grinned…

>> "Later, Gramps!"

Vicente snarled as she took off down the hall and after his intended target. Tired of the games, Vicente suddenly applied a burst of pressure to the man’s throat and swiftly pulled his arm up. SNAP!![/b] He grinned at the sound of that satisfying crack of a neck breaking and suddenly released the man back into a crumpled heap on the ground. Cracking his own neck to the side, Vicente suddenly reached down and retrieved his knife he had thrown earlier and dashed to give chase after the girl.

Once he was done with Hogman, he’d teach her a lesson about sticking her nose in other people’s business…

Isabel skid into the hallway, using the door jamb to help her turn sharply, just in time to hear a door somewhere down it's length slam shut. The disgusting excuse for a human obviously thought that holing up somewhere was going to help him? It's not like he could wiggle such girth out of the kind of window that would be in such a place. Chances are he'd probably locked himself in and was working on barricading the door. She was more worried about him producing a phone and calling for backup than she was about not being able to reach him. One of his grunts had already claimed to have called the cops. She didn't need more bigots showing up on top of that. It would just be a hassle.

There was also the issue of the grouchy interloper back in the main room. It probably wouldn't be long before he wriggled away from his playmate and barreled down the hallway after her. What a pest.

When she reached the door, she found exactly what she'd been expecting when she tested the knob. Locked. Hmph. Not like that could stop her. She had her own brand of skeleton key. From the tip of her finger extended a thin strip of bone, which she fitted into the lock, shifting and reshaping it until she head the lock click. Unfortunately she could also hear something coming from the room that sounded like furniture moving, which was shortly followed by a thump against the door. Again as she's suspected. That still wouldn't stop her.

All she had to do was wedge a bit of bone between the door and the jamb, beneath the pins in the door's hinges and force them up and out. Removing the door was just a bit trickier. It opened inward, so she couldn't just pull it out of the way, and she most likely wouldn't be able to push it very far depending on what had been set up against it.

Isabel was getting irritated. This was way more work to kill someone than it needed to be, and she blamed it entirely on that jackass that had showed up. Brandishing the blade she'd taken with her, she started hacking at the door. She just needed to get a good enough chunk out of it before she could pull it free from the jamb.

As Vicente ran, he could feel the blood pumping harshly through his veins. He could not allow that girl to get away, nor could he allow her to be the one to kill Hogman. Whatever her personal vendetta was against the head of the Redeemers, it mattered nothing to him. Let her take her anger out on the man’s flunkies if she wanted want to, but Hogman was his. He needed the head of that bastard to take back to Falcone and collect the rest of his bounty. That man was a wart on the face of the family’s territory and he needed to be removed in the most painful way imaginable.

The very thought of that sent a grin across the assassin’s face. As he stormed through the hall he snarled as he felt his skull crack and reshape itself under his skin. It was excruciating but judging by the look on the man’s face and his reaction, it was hard to tell. As his skull reshaped itself, a fine layer of tan fur began to grow up over his skin as his black hair shifted and grew bushy and much longer, taking on a golden hue. Teeth elongated into fangs, his mouth extended into a muzzle, and before long his eyes took on a gold, predatory color. When the shift was done, the assassin snarled as he sniffed the air and immediately caught of whiff of the blood and sweat of someone further down the hall.

A grin etched across his black lips as he stormed forward, his fingers flexing and tightening into fists as one clutched the knife in hand.

Sometimes he took way too much pleasure in his job.

Coming up to the corner, Vicente paused as his ears twitched and caught of something being hacked. He did not smell copious amounts of blood so he assumed that the girl had not caught up to Hogman just yet. But what was that sound then? Stopping, he peeked out from around the corner and watched as the girl hacked and slashed at a door that seemed to be barricaded.

He snorted. Hogman barricaded himself but for what purpose? The windows of this establishment were far too small.

Hack! Hack! Hack!! when clumps of the doorframe. Vicente only shook his head as he watched the girl take her anger out on it.

Amateur. he thought before he suddenly stepped out into clear view and licked his chops.

“Listen here, girlie,” the lion-headed man said in his deep and gravel-like voice. “Think it’s about time to backed away from that door and let the professionals handle this. It’s obvious you have no idea what you’re doing. So back off, now. I don’t give second chances…” he said with a deep and menacing growl.

His eyes set upon her and the door, he only wanted her to vacate now. All he wanted was Hogman, that was it. Not whoever this avenging angel was. But he would kill her if she got in his way. Simple as that…

Isabel had just managed to knock loose a decently sized chunk of the door and wriggle her fingers around the edge of the wooden structure when someone addressed her from a short distance down the hall. She turned her head to locate the owner of the odd voice, though her hand continued to wriggle through the splintered wood. She's been planning to move the objects against the wall before she'd been interrupted yet again.

She had thought it'd be the interloper from before that approached her, not this lion-headed individual. Though, judging by the way he was speaking to her, they two were one in the same. She should have figured another mutant would be the one to be after Hogman. It was certainly a mutation she hadn't seen before. Briefly she wondered if the rest of him could turn into the rest of a lion, too, or if he was stuck with just the face. In any case, he didn't scare her.

She gave a huff and a half grin. On the other side of the door, she was already worming tendrils of bone down between the door and the furniture leaning against it and expanding them, forcing the barricade away from the entrance, and the door to shift and angle itself in such a way that she'd be able to wriggle herself through and into the room in no time.

"I don't think so, Kitty Cat." Pointing her blade at the lion man, the length of bone exploded into a tangle of brambles and quickly filed a small section of the corridor from floor to ceiling, wall to wall. It might not stop him, but it would slow him down long enough to give her another heads start. Dropping the end of the blade as it split into separate vines like the rest of it had, she turned and proceeded to wriggle her way into the room Hogman had taken refuge in.

>> "I don't think so, Kitty Cat."

His feline eye twitched as he watched that smirk on the girl’s face. It was obvious that she did not fear a single thing from him. That only irritated him all the more. Was she just insane or really that arrogant? Normally he appreciated such candor in a woman but right now she was only proving to be a nuisance and absolutely nothing else. He needed to get rid of her if he wanted to continue on to Hogman. But before he could even make a step…the interloper revealed her hand…

It took moments for Vicente to watch as a section of the hall began to fill with twisting, sharp brambles of bone. It was needless to say that the man was shocked and obvious that he was not expecting this, which was a stupid decision. In New York he should have learned by now to always expect the unexpected.

A forest of sharpened bone was definitely unexpected…

He snarled, his feline jaws snapping at the sight of the brambles as they formed a dangerous pathway for any one stupid enough to continue down the hall. Cracking his neck to the side the assassin roared as he licked his chops and stepped forward. That half-grin of hers was still embedded in his mind as he watched her turn and wiggle herself in through the door that she had managed to start to pry open. He was not going to lose his bounty to this little psychopath.

Looking down at his arm, Vicente snarled and growled as he focused. He needed to rush the shift otherwise he would be stuck out here for too long. So one he shed himself of his coat, he closed his eyes and the pain rip up through his right arm, coursing through his entire body. The skin burned, the bones cracked and reformed and he silently agonized as he shifted his arm into one more muscular and covered in black fur. Nearly a minute passed as he looked down and noticed that his right arm was much longer and much more muscular. The black skin, the coarse black hair and he smirked with his lion’s lips as he looked up.

“I’m coming for ya,” he hissed as he suddenly stepped forward. “Both of ya!!!”

As he roared he reached out and pulled and snapped the bones that barred his way, rushing forward and paying little mind to any scratches or cuts he received in the process. The chimera was seeing blood now…

***
Hogman had ran inside with really no plan. He knew that he needed to get away and that he needed to get away now. He had not expected to be attacked so blatantly. As much as he did not want to run away from a fight, much less a fight with a little mutant girl, he knew that he was out-matched for the moment. Which was why he ran and left his crew to deal with the girl and the very large man. Were they working together? Separately? Coincidence that they both happened to be in the same bar at the same time?

He shook his head as he continued to attempt to bar the door, amidst the sounds of hacking against it. All he needed to do was get outside and back to his crew. There had to be a way out.

Huffing and puffing in his exhausted manner, the man turned towards the nearest window and waddled up to it. It was way too small. There would be no way he could actually get through there. Something here. These places always had back and service entrances didn’t they?

A string of obscenities flew from his lips as he turned and heard the door slowly and painfully begin to squeak open. This was not good. If that man, or both were working for Falcone, then he was definitely a dead man. Damn it. Everything was just collapsing around him…

Shaking his head, he squeaked as he turned and ran for the nearest door…when he spied something behind the file cabinet. Something that made him grin and bought just a small edge in this little quarrel. Reaching behind the cabinet he pulled out a shotgun and sweated with anticipation. The weapon weighed heavily in his hands but it was exactly what he needed. This must have been the bar owners office and it seemed he kept “insurance” in here in case he ever got into a pickle.

Smart man.

The door squeaked open more as he looked up to see someone begin to wiggle through. It was girl. He was more than tired of her already. Rushing to a nearby desk, the man pulled open drawer after drawer until finally he found that familiar looking box full of shotgun rounds. Quickly he dumped the shells onto the desk and began to load up. It was only when it was capped off did he looked up to see her squeezing through further.

He smirked as he armed the gun with a loud click and raised it up, aiming directly for the door.

After calling the little freak a very unflattering curse word, he squeeze the trigger and let loose the first round with a deafening KRA-KOOOM![/b] then immediately pumped again, aimed, and fired once more as he made his way towards another back door…

Isabel was working her shoulders into the room when she heard a roar behind her, followed shortly by a series of crashes. The man was apparently trying to force his way through the brambles she'd put up. She was counting on them being able to hold him for a few minutes while she continued on her way. She was almost there. It wouldn't take her much longer to get into the room, and even less time to deal with the worm curled up inside.

She could hear the fat man bustling around, but she didn't pay him much attention. Her focus was more on fitting herself between the door and the jamb without doing too much damage to her clothing. Blood she could deal with for the time begin. She really didn't want to be ripping any more big holes in her shirt, though.

She had just started squeezing her hips through the gap when a deafening bang sounded in the small room, nearly deafening her. Something struck the wall and furniture above her head to the right. She ducked her head as bits and pieces of the wall and the makeshift barricade showered down on her. She wasn't quite able to get out of their way, her body being still wedged in the entrance.

Apparently Hogman had found himself a shotgun, and he had some idea as to how to use it. That wasn't very hard, though, considering shotguns had such a wide range of spray from their shot. Before she could so much as lift her head back up another shot rang out, the fat man earning himself a scream.

Isabel had been hit again. Though not directly, it still hurt like hell. A little more than half the shot had struck the wall beside her, the rest of it embedding itself into the flesh of her back. Had she not been protecting herself in some way with her armor, it could have done some serious damage to her spine, and perhaps some of the organs closer to the skin.

She hadn't quite managed to get herself through the door. Her top half was in the room, while her hips were still resting against the door jamb with her legs in the hallway. She had ended up on the floor after that last shot, her hands over her head and her legs curled as close to her body as they could get, meaning the upper half of her legs was pressed against the hallway wall, with her knees bent so her lower legs pressed against her thighs.

The bone she'd wormed in behind the door was twisting its way back to her and forming itself into a sort of shield while she listened to the sound of Hogman reloading the gun. There had to be a limit to his supply. She could wait him out, just so long as the brambles could keep the lion man occupied.

Snap!! Crackle!! POP!!

Vicente broke his way through the forest of bramble-like bones that had grown and strewn themselves across the hallway in order to impede his progress. It was like he was caught in some calcified forest and it definitely felt like it. It seemed that the harder Vicente pushed to get through the dangerous brambles, the sharper they got, or maybe it was simply because he was tired of being held back. Every second he wasted breaking and pushing through the brambles, the less chance he had to making it to that door and stopping that girl from slipping in and killing his target.

He lion jaws snapped and roared as brambles stuck and bit into his skin, his gorilla’s arms crushed and snapped any bones in his path, while he kicked out with his boot and broke others. Rage was beginning to boil over. He needed to stop that girl. He needed to get to Hogman. He--

KRAA-KOOOOOM!!![/b]

KRAA-KOOOOOM!!![/b]

Vicente growled as he suddenly stopped and ducked down. That was the unmistakably the sound of a gunshot, a shotgun more than likely. His suspicion was confirmed when he looked up to see the large chunk at the corner of the doorway missing…and the girl screaming.

Immediately the scent of blood hit his nostrils as he looked up to see the girl crouching low as another buckshot was sent tearing through the door. Someone that coward had gotten his hands on a gun inside of that room. That was definitely not good. He was more dangerous that way, but…the man could only have so many shots. He could simply wait him out but there was no guarantee that he was going to waste all his rounds before they walked in.

He growled. He was not liking this situation at all.

Reaching out, he snapped another bramble that was in his way and cautiously crept forward. But watching the girl crouch down with a bleeding back, he had to smirk. Chuckling in a maniacal way, he shouted out to her as another buckshot tore through the door and took out a chunk of the wall above her head.

“Hey, Babycakes! You find yourself in a bind?” he smirked as he pulled his knife from his holster with his one still human hand and scoffed. Hogman was a fat, cornered rat. It was only a matter of who wanted to go in first…

Great. Just great. Not only was one anti-mutant jackass trying to shoot her face off, now she had the furball on the other side of the wall laughing at her. She'd like to see how well he did with someone pointing a gun at his face. She was willing to bet he'd end up in much the same position, though perhaps without the frame of a door pressing into his midsection. She was also willing to bet that she could stand up to a bulled much better than he could. He'd get all his vulnerable organs riddled with holes.

With a bit of a growl, she extended her small shield up over her head and pressed it against the newly created hole in the wall just above her. From there the edge of the structure split into a number of spines and shot in the lion man's direction, aiming to pin him against the opposite wall, or at least to get him to back off. She could deal without the smartass comments, thank you.

With some mode of protection to keep the shotgun spray off of her body, she started moving again. Whatever damage it did to the bone she could quickly and easily replace. Isabel at least wanted to pull the rest of her body into the room. She felt very foolish with her back end in the hallway.

As she worked her hips past the rapidly deteriorating doorjamb, she base of the shield that was resting on the floor in front of her broke into several spikes, much like its other end had done. She was aiming for the fat man's legs. If she maimed him, he couldn't run again, and he couldn't search for any more ammunition. Her temper was just about at its peak by now, and she could do with a little venting in the form of mauling the fat man before killing him.

She pulled her feet past the door at about the same time Hogman gave a cry, which was followed by a loud thud and another shot from the gun, resulting in a hole in the ceiling. She'd sliced rather messily through his hamstrings. The sloppiness was all his fault of course, which had happened when he'd tried to scramble away from the spines heading in his direction. She had him now.

"Better luck next time, Snowbal!"

Vicente sat crouched against the wall, really having no idea what was going to happen next. The girl was bleeding, the doorway was being shot up, and Hogman had managed to find a pretty destructive looking weapon. He wracked his brain as he tried to figure some move to make. Hogman was a cornered rat and he was definitely looking to slash and bite at anything that dared to get too close. But how could he get in there without receiving a face full of buckshot? He figured there had to be more ammo inside that room. It seemed as if Hogman stumbled onto the owner’s private room which meant that it could be armed to the teeth. It had to be considering the neighborhood…

Another random buckshot and Vicente crouched. He was getting tired of that man and his boomstick.

But as Vicente crept forward, he noticed the young girl whom he had previous addressed was beginning to make her move, after of course, completely ignoring his commentary. Now that was just plain rude…

Yet as he stood to break the last of the brambles and follow, the boney growth which the girl used as a shield suddenly extended with more spines and shot back towards him!! The old assassin barely had enough time to twist away to avoid being impaled by the volley of bone shards. Great, first shotgun shells and not tiny spears of bone? This was so not turning out to be his day.

Barely able to turn, Vicente caught on bone spine through the hanging end of his vest and nailed him to the wall. Next following a pair that struck at his jeans and also pinned him there while he felt the sharp and throbbing pair of another drill into his shoulder and stick him to the wall as if he were a trophy of sorts. He definitely could not have that.

He snarled as she shot him another smirk and wiggled the rest of her body into the room. Vicente struggled momentarily before he reached up and grabbed the spine of bone that stuck through his shoulder. He crushed the offending weapon in hand in half and moved to working on pulling the rest that kept him pinned by his clothes. Enough was enough…

Moving onto his feet, Vicente snarled as he pulled his close free from the bones that had attempted to pin him to the wall. The girl could have easily killed him with that move…yet she didn’t. He was not liking this one bit.

Once free a frenzy took over Vicente as he spied the last of the girl slip through the door. Adrenaline pumped through his veins like a freight train as he stepped forward and snapped and shattered more bone in his way. Upon reaching the door, the assassin paused when there was a shout of pain, followed by another deafening crack of his shot gun. Vicente paused before he saddened shoved his gorilla arm forward and toppled over the mass of items that had been used to barricade the door.

As he glanced in, he spied Hogman cringing and crying as a pair of born spines were driven through his hands and actually nailed him to floor. The fat, mutant-hater whimpered as spittle ran down from his lips as he shook his head and attempted to move again. He only cried out more.

Vicente glanced to the girl…

>> "Better luck next time, Snowbal!"

He snarled menacingly. “This kill is mine, girlie,” he muttered as he glared at her with his predatory eyes. “Who hired you? Falcone? Wayne? One of the other families? Hogman is my assignment…”