“Go?” he tsk’d and shook his head slightly at the notion. “If I thought you could behave I might consider it, as things stand though…”[/color] He trailed off as he reassessed the girls condition, suppressing a sigh as he took in the exhausted posture and still dazed expression as she struggled with the after effects of her near suffocation. He doubted the soubrette even remembered what day it was, let alone why he’d dragged her here to begin with.

Still, it made her compliant enough to speak with if nothing else.

“I’ve already had to stop one of your tantrums Isabel, I’m not about to let you have another.” The rebuke was spoken slowly and without any overt hostility but there was a clear note of steel in the elementals voice, strengthened somewhat by his accent, which suggested he wouldn’t hear any arguments on the matter.

Silence stretched out for a short time as Isabel recovered and Zephyr considered his next move. While the mercenary had hoped the Promise would hold far more control than it currently did, he hadn’t been planning to rely on it entirely. He’d made brief preparations for a small number of contingencies, the UHF jammer he activated at the start of this particular episode was one such example, while the half cobbled restraining collar sitting in his pocket was another.

In short, he was by no means out of options

“If you think you can stand I’ll let go of you, but only if you say ‘please.’” There was a deliberate pause and additional emphasis given to the last two words so that they became something between a command and a request. A way to gauge how much fight the bonemancer had left in her while also providing an opportunity for the compulsion exercise what little influence it held in a controlled setting.

In truth the hessian had fully expected the shapely soubrette to remain stubbornly silent, perhaps with a halfhearted glare for his attempts. So he was caught completely nonplussed when the word left the girls lips without an instants hesitation, as though she hadn’t even thought about it.

The moment he’d registered what she’d done though both eyebrows shot upwards in surprise and it was only with a conscious effort that he managed to hold back a smile and keep the rest of his features mostly blank. Then, with deliberate slowness, he released the buxom brunette’s shirt and rose from his kneeling position

When Isabel followed suit a few seconds later he gave her a short nod of approval. “See? That wasn’t hard at all. A touch of manners can go a long way Isabel.” The elementals voice carried the same calm, if slow, cadence it had earlier as he picked each of his words with care as the beginnings of an idea took route in his mind. “You should consider being polite more often, with me if no one else.”

In reality, compulsions were more of a double edged sword than the all-purpose solution they were generally portrayed as. Far too often the nature of compulsions meant that they were effective only on the exact wording of an order, rather than its intent. If you weren’t careful it was all too easy to give a command that a thrall could carry out improperly.

Even worse was the possibility of giving contradicting or impossible orders which, depending on the severity of the compulsion, could give the thrall anything from a mild headache to a complete mental breakdown. There were always one or two stories in the news every year involving young physics who’d abused their ability to manipulate others and who generally left a number of their thralls as little more than empty shells before they were caught.

Thus, Zephyr took great care with each of his words. It was all he could do until he had an opportunity to implement more fluid guidelines. If it gave Duskmoor cause to think he was patronizing her so be it, he wasn’t about to risk turning her into a vegetable after all the effort he’d so far.

“Where were we? Ah yes, you’re ‘homework’.” A faint look of amusement passed over the elementals features as he caught the soubrettes reaction to the word. “Come now Isabel, do try not to make faces.” He admonished halfheartedly. “I think you’re actually going to like this.”

“You see, I’m going to let you have your revenge for the little gargoyle girl, but it will be on my terms.” He then withdrew three thick envelopes from within his jacket and presented them to the soubrette who seemed to eye them dubiously. Each envelope was muted brown and aside from being unusually thick had nothing more to distinguish them, aside from the name which had been printed in bold on the front.

Officer Anderson
Officer Sanchez
Detective Sullivan

“Three abusive officers. Three hateful bigoted fools. Each of them shares some of the responsibility for that young girls pain and suffering, just as you do. Unlike them however, you get to make a choice; are they going to face the ‘justice’ of their own system? Tried and judged by their own friends and family? Or should they face a more permanent sentence?”

He paused for a few moments to let the words sink in, unnecessary as it might have been; it was clear from the gamines expression what her decision was and that she held absolutely no reservations about killing all three… which was exactly why this next part was going to be interesting.

He offered the envelopes towards Isabel and as she moved to take he drew them back abruptly. “There is a catch I’m afraid” He told here without any hint of remorse. “You know the saying, ‘eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth…’ blood for blood. Despicable though it was, they only injured one girl and so you can only choose one victim, the other two, they get to live.”

Any hopes that Isabel might have had about persuading the young man to wrap up his twisted lesson for the day quickly faded as her voiced desire to leave was denied. Apparently nearly choking her to death wasn't quite enough to satisfy his ego. Bastard.

She heaved a sigh as he gave a rather predictable reason for not letting her leave yet. As if she could throw any kind of tantrum worth having in her current state. She had nearly suffocated, she was growing increasingly tired both physically and mentally from having to deal with his bullshit, and in truth she didn't feel like starting a brawl with him. She just wasn't quite angry enough to risk any more near death experiences.

"Please," she said flatly in reply to his stupid prodding. She managed to keep herself from rolling her eyes or biting down on her tongue. She didn't like the way that word felt in her mouth, but if it got him to shut the hell up and get to the point of this whole thing quicker she could stomach it for the time being.

Her expression turned to one of mild disgust as Zephyr voiced his thoughts on her manners, or lack thereof. As if she'd ever go out of her way to be polite to him given the choice. At least he'd finally let go of her poor, abused shirt. The fabric below her collar was all wrinkled and stretched and she was sure at least one of the buttons would have to be stitched back onto the shirt. She straightened it out as best as she could before attempting to get to her feet. Her legs felt unsettlingly like jello but they managed to support her weight. She pressed one of her hands to the nearby wall for a little added support just in case. She still felt fairly lightheaded and the last thing she needed was to fall over and crack her head open or something.

Her posture stiffened at the mention of 'homework', the expression of disgust growing deeper. First he tormented her and now he was going to make her do homework? That was so unfair!

Now revenge was a word she liked the sound of much better, but when said in Zephyr's voice it was exceedingly suspicious. Nothing he ever told her to do turned out well for her and she was sure this one wouldn't be breaking that trend. 'On his terms' certainly sounded ominous enough.

She chose to watch the envelopes that had been produced rather than his stupid face, trying to read the names scrawled on them while listening to him drone on. She barely let him finish giving his two options before she'd spat out her answer. "Permanent" was of course the only reasonable choice in her book. They'd never learn anything in the justice system, and they wouldn't get the chance to attack another mutant if they were dead.

When she reached for the envelopes and they were snapped out of her reach before she got her hands on them, the hand she'd placed on the wall lifted and smacked back down on it hard. God he was so frustrating! "What?! No! That's bullshit!" she spat, glaring at the envelopes and debating whether she'd make a grab for them or not. It didn't matter that they'd only gone after one girl, they'd all been involved. They were all equally guilty.

"I'm gonna get them all either way," she proclaimed defiantly, turning her glare onto the young man that held the packets. She still wasn't feeling completely normal just yet, but he was doing a good job of stoking her temper in spite of that. She might have enough energy to throw another tantrum after all. "You can't babysit me forever. I'll get to those guys eventually and when I find them they're dead. All three of them.

Not for the first time, Zephyr reflected on just how childlike Duskmoor was; the girl operated without any thought to consequences and rarely considered anything beyond her immediate needs from moment to moment. That, along with her misled belief in her own invincibility, was two of the primary factors behind her unnaturally volatile behavior. That same lack of forethought however also made her predictable and easy to lead.

"What?! No! That's bullshit!"[/color]

Case in point.

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes the hessian weathered Duskmoors puerile outburst with his usual stoicism, hardly reacting aside from a narrowing of his cobalt eyes as the ingénue all but stamped her feet in anger against the terms he’d set. He let her go on for about a minute, allowed her to vent the anger and fear which had surely been building since he’d dragged her into the room before she ran out of words and merely glared at him, waiting for some form of response.

He was more than willing to oblige.

“You’re making quite a few assumptions there Duskmoor” He informed her in a quiet, yet deadly serious tone which echoed through the air with unnatural clarity. “And I don’t mind telling you that more than a few of them are wrong.” With a deft motion he opened his coat and replaced the three envelopes, using the action to disguise the movement of his other hand as it slid into another pocket as he continued.

“Still, you are right about one thing. I have no intention of ‘babysitting’ you; this is a lesson and nothing more.” He shifted his stance slightly so that he was side on with the soubrette, hiding the hint of metal in one of his hands as they came to rest by his sides. “If you fail to learn however, you will be… disciplined.”

A sudden gust of wind caught the soubrette without warning, surging over her back and shoulders it caught her waist length hair and whipped it across her face, effectively blinding her in the same instant that Zephyr made his move; darting forward with two half circles of silver clutched in his outstretched hand as he aimed for the girls neck.
The metal collar snapped shut the moment it grazed the ingénues skin, the locking mechanism giving an all too audible click[/b] as it locked around the shapely soubrettes throat. This was followed almost immediately by a faint mechanical hum just before a static shock coursed through the metal and the wearer.

Then, as quickly as it happened, there was a second click[/b] and the collar sprang open, falling back into Zephyr’s hand just as the elemental moved back, stepping out Isabel’s immediate range at the same time the girl managed to fight clear of her hair.

“That, was only a demonstration Duskmoor. If you don’t want this collar to become a permanent part of you I suggest you think quickly and give me three reasons why those men should die. One for each of them. I don’t care if they deserve it or not, tell me how three deaths will benefit the Order more than one. “

Isabel simply huffed and crossed her arms defiantly as Zephyr spoke to reprimand her for her most recent outburst. She didn't care very much about what he had to say in reply to her. It would be all the same stuff anyways. Scolding about how childish she is, how wrong she is about everything, how he's always right, blah, blah, blah.

Perhaps lacking a little more self discipline than Zephyr did, she found herself rolling her eyes fairly quickly after he began to speak, not at all cautious about acting as if the 'lesson' that had just ended hadn't ever happened in the first place. She had long since gotten into the habit of pretending events that turned out poorly for her had never occurred. It was so much easier that having to think about them and relive the experience in her thoughts.

She had just opened her mouth to deliver a retort when a sudden gust caught her by surprise and delivered a substantial amount of her long hair directly into her face. Her hand immediately worked to flip the flyaway strands back over her shoulders and out of her eyes and mouth. She hated to have the offending young man out of her sights for more than a minute.

And then something completely unexpected happened, something far beyond the surprise of a sudden gust of wind. She felt the sting of cold metal graze and then clamp down onto her neck and all thought was driven from her mind, all movement of her body ceased. Her eyes barely had time to widen in shock before the too familiar zap of electricity surged through her body, a startled and pained yelp escaping her.

Her hidden defenses snapped back into normal bone structure so quickly her body jerked, though an observer would have been hard pressed to distinguish whether it had been that or the electric shock that had caused it. Her hands flew to her throat as if to try and tear the device away from her skin, but before she could find purchase on it the lock clicked and it was drawn away.

Isabel's face was very white and her eyes very wide and rimmed in red as her hair fell mostly back into place. She was staring in Zephyr's direction, though she was only vaguely aware that he was what she was looking at. Her heart was in her throat and she seemed to be struggling to breathe properly, her chest rising and falling rapidly and unevenly. She made a move as if to step away from the young man but instead her knees buckled and she crumpled into a sitting position on the floor, one hand still worrying at the angry red mark around her neck.

She was only vaguely aware that Zephyr had begun speaking again. As the shock settled a fraction her blank mind had surged back into activity and she was working very hard to push back the onslaught of memories that were threatening to overtake her. He was asking for something, but she couldn't give it to him. She couldn't make her mind work the way he was asking for it to.

She tilted her head back so she could look up at him, even if she wasn't focusing entirely. She couldn't keep back the tremor in her lower lip and her eyes were beginning to sting. He'd hit way below the belt. Her hand fell away from her neck and moved to worry at the opposite arm where her shirt concealed an old scar that encircled her wrist.

Her lip trembled again and her vision started to blur. She opened her mouth to reply but had to pause when a lump rose in her throat. Her anger has been quashed beneath her fear for the moment, which in turn was overpowered by a crushing sense of helplessness and vulnerability. When she finally could speak, she was only able to manage a cracked whisper. All she could manage was, "I can't."

For all that Duskmoor’s lack of forethought and simplistic world view lent her a rather predictable personality, she did, occasionally, surprise him. The first time had been during their initial meeting when she’d attempted to hamstring him by burrowing tendrils of bone through the earth to catch him off guard. It had been an unnaturally subtle tactic for the bonemancer and had she been slightly faster or more vicious she might have succeeded in crippling him in their first meeting.

The second time the soubrette surprised him had been less than an hour after their first meeting. Having convinced her to work him to put an end to an all too bloody gang war the girl had surpassed his initial expectations by crafting, in mere moments, a fully functional arachnid style exoskeleton which she’d used to increase her overall speed and agility in order to hunt down her victims as quickly as possible.

The third occurrence had been some months later when she’d attempted to escape from a hospital and been cut off by both the NYPD and SWAT teams. After taking some pains to persuade the gamine that it would be better to leave then engage in another pointless bloodbath the girl had stalked to near the top of building and used her mutation to fashion a pair of wings and glided away from the scene with almost no one the wiser.

The recurring theme in each of these cases was the fact that it had always been the use of Duskmoors mutation which had surprised the elemental. Time and time again she’d proven, likely without realizing, just how versatile her power was; adapting it for each situation and circumstance as soon as the solution occurred to her.

This was the first time Isabel had surprised him as a person.

Watching the soubrette simply breakdown after the collar’s brief ‘demonstration’ was perhaps the last thing the hessian had expected. Granted, he’d known that she’d had some past experience with the collars and its variants from her time in the mutant camps, but he’d never thought the device would leave this kind of mark.

Then again, it did make a twisted sort of sense; in every confrontation Zephyr had seen, Isabel had always relied on her mutation to get what she wanted. If what he’d read about her past was true it was something she’d first arrived in the city and it had made her no few enemies, least of all in the NYPD.

How would the so called ‘defenders of the peace’ act if they found the soubrette in a prison camp where she was stripped of her powers and treated no better dirt? Would they let the girl be, content to have her serve the sentence she’d been given? Or would they remember the friends and family who’d died at her hands and take it upon themselves to enforce a more personal retribution?

Zephyr knew the answer far too well; he’d also spent time in the camps, albeit from a different perspective, and the elemental had seen just low people could sink when they thought they could get away. For the male prisoners it had generally meant beatings or starvation, female prisoners however hadn’t been so lucky. Given her natural figure and just how vulnerable she’d been well… It was entirely possible that Duskmoor’s phobia of intimacy could be traced back to memories from her time in the camps. Memories she’d probably spent years repressing even as they motivated her on a subconscious to never be weak or vulnerable again.

In short, using the collar on her had likely forced Duskmoor to revisit some of the worst moments of her life. Moments that she would now associate with him.

Wonderful.

Suppressing his growing frustration Zephyr considered his options while keeping one eye on Isabel, watching as the shock faded and the buxom brunette drew in increasingly short and shuddering breaths which made her shoulders trembles and shook loose the tears welling in her eyes. It was an immensely unsettling sight and the part of him that had always cared for and doted on his sister, then later Katrina, couldn’t help but cringe at the thought that he’d caused it, however unintentionally.

He reminded himself that Duskmoor was a senseless killer who needed to be dealt with… one way or another.

Still holding the collar in plain view while resting his free hand behind his back Zephyr stepped quietly to one side so that he stood between Isabel and the bag which he’d dropped on the other side of the room.

After staring at her for a few moments the elemental seemed to come to a decision and he moved back within arm’s reach of the silently sobbing soubrette, causing the girl to emit a slight shriek as she desperately tried to sink into the wall behind her.

“Here’s what’s going to happen Duskmoor.” The elemental spoke slowly but with a tone of utter certainty as he crouched down to the brunette’s eye level, forcing her to meet his gaze so she wouldn’t notice the open bottle of water he’d levitated into his other hand, and which he then proceeded to pour over her head.

This elicited a second, less fearful shriek, as the girl flailed and tried to cover her head. By the time the bottle was empty though the brunette face had gained a few shades of colour and her hazel eyes actually had some measure of focus as she stared back at him, surprise and confusion momentarily offsetting her terror.

“I’m going to give you a chance to act like a human being, like the homo-superior you claim you are. Talk to me, tell me what you’re thinking, explain yourself. “

He trailed off at that, letting the words sink in as he lowered his arm and dropped the empty water bottle which clattered to the concrete floor before rolling away towards the slight indent in the center of the room.

“If you can’t even do that, then you’re little more than animal and I’ll treat you like one,” He lifted the silver circlet in his hand to eye level, the threat all too clear. ”Collar and all.”

Isabel absolutely hated crying. It was an obvious outward sign that something had seriously upset her and she never liked anyone gaining that kind of upper hand on her. She much preferred to keep anything other than anger tightly wrapped under the surface. Rarely did she ever let herself cry, even when alone. Weaknesses like that were not something she wanted to indulge in on any kind of regular basis.

However, this time she couldn't help it. Once her eyes started to well it was almost like a dam breaking and she couldn't blink back the tears before they began to fall, and once they had she was hard pressed to stop as quickly as she'd have liked. And in front of Zephyr of all people, the last person she'd ever have wanted to see her in such a state. Twice now she'd been reduced to tears in front of him and she loathed it.

It was very hard to focus on anything when her vision kept blurring through the tears, but she was doing her damnedest to keep an eye on the collar that was being held in plain view. She didn't want to look at it. She never wanted to see one of those things ever again, but a mixture of pure fear and loathing kept her eyes trained on the metal circle. She'd hadn't even fully realized that he'd moved, her attention trained so fully on the collar when she wasn't wiping furiously at her eyes with sleeves of her shirt.

Him moving forward, however, was another story. She didn't want him anywhere near her, especially not with the collar in his hand. She even emitted a shriek that she had not meant to while attempting to regain the distance that had evaporated between the two of them.

Still wide-eyed she trained her attention of his face, as it had gotten rather close. And then it was gone in a torrent of water that was suddenly dumped over her head, gaining a shout of surprise that was quickly lost in a series of spluttering and broken curses.

Even over all the noise she was making trying to get her wet hair out of her face she heard his challenge clearly enough. His threat rang in her ears particularly clearly as that damned collar was passed into her line of sight yet again.

He wanted her to talk, to explain what was going on in her head. She really didn't want to do that. It was almost as bad as crying, letting people know what she was thinking. She'd much prefer that people continue to see her as the always angry brat that was ready to kill someone at the drop of a hat. Things were easier that way and she could keep to herself and keep people out.

"I'm terrified of those things," she found herself saying as she indicated the collar hanging from the young man's hand, though the gesture was likely unnecessary. "I never wanted to see those again. I never want to think about the Camps ever if I can help it. It was such a horrible place and I was in there for so long. The people there were so terrible..." She ran a hand through her damp hair as she trailed off. She didn't want to have to go into any kind of depth about what had happened in the Camps or why she hated them so much. But somehow she thought it was best to continue talking, even if she steered clear of that particular subject.

"I don't want to be here any more. I want to go back to my room where I can crawl into bed and hide from everything for a few hours." she continued, finding it easier to keep speaking once she had begun, even if it was still somewhat reluctantly. "Nothing ever goes the way I want it to when I'm stuck doing things with you and I hate it and I hate you for it. I would be happy if I never saw you again, probably. You make my life a living hell," she sighed, though even as she said it she didn't feel any real conviction behind the words. She couldn't muster any full blown hatred for Zephyr, no matter how much she may have wanted to.

She ran her hand through her hair again in a more frustrated manner. She was also avoiding having to look at his face again, feeling very foolish the longer she talked. "I just feel so goddamn useless when I have to deal with you. I can't even kill you the right way. I can't do anything that I want and it's frustrating as hell. I just can't ever get the upper hand, and I'm just.... useless! You ruin everything!" She was getting increasingly frustrated, her eyes starting to sting again in that frustration. She could feel that lump starting to rise back up in her throat and it wasn't doing anything to calm her down.

She heaved a defeated sort of sigh and passed a sleeves over her eyes again. She wasn't watching the collar anymore and she was doing her very best to avoid making eye contact with Zephyr. She was quieter when she started to speak again, as if she didn't really want to be heard. "I'm scared. I don't want to be here with you and that thing. You... you scare me."

Zephyr remained silent as Isabel talked, after everything he’d done to get her started he wasn’t about to interrupt her. Instead he just watched her, taking in her expression, the tone of her voice, even her posture as her thoughts and words wandered from one topic to the next.

He’d been trying for some time now to build a mental profile for the girl, to better understand and influence her, and while he’d been able to glean fair amount from her past, discerning how she thought was another matter entirely. That required conversation, discussion, something that amounted to more than jejune arguments.

He finally had that, thus he listened and he watched, even as he did his best to ignore the buxom brunettes soaked shirt and the way it clung her skin, revealing every curve and contour of her figure. A task which would have been far easier if either her shirt or undergarment had been any colour but white.

Inevitably though it proved easier to simply close his eyes and remove the temptation, leaving him to watch the girl with his other senses. Much as he enjoyed the view, he wasn’t about to risk losing what little ground he’d just gained by offending the offending the girls somewhat excessive sense of decency.
It was along that same line of thought that, when Isabel’s final whispered words came to an end, the first thing the elemental did was remove his jacket and offer it to her while keeping pointedly keeping his head turned in the opposite direction.

When he turned his gaze back to the girl a few moments later it was with a somber expression on his face as he sat cross legged in front of her, the collar held lightly over his knee in one hand. “I’ve been trying to get you to talk to me for some time Isabel. To get some idea of how you think so that we wouldn’t have to fight.”

He sighed and dropped his gaze to the collar turning it over in both his hands as he thought. “I’d hoped that when we did talk it would be a lighter subject but that wasn’t the case.” He glanced back at her and offered a tired smile which was far from feigned. “Talking about the things that scare us is never easy, if they were, we wouldn’t fear them. Still you’ve done it and now I’m going to help you; I’m going to help you feel a little less useless and little less scared.”

“The technology behind the collars was initially funded by the church of humanity. The original goal was to create a device capable of detecting mutants from a distance. Instead though…” He trailed off briefly as he took the collar in both hands, making a short show of pulling back a spring loaded switch. “They created this.”

The smaller segmented sections of the collar abruptly retracted into a larger central plate, changing its shape from a ring to a gently curing arc roughly six inches long with a series of coloured LED’s on the outer side. Zephyr turned the device over in his hands, revealing what could perhaps best be described as copper plated veins interspersed with a line of small silver discs which he traced with his thumb.

“These are electrodes; simply put they are sensors which can tell a mutant mind tries to access its powers.” The hessian flipped device over again and outlined an area directly beneath the unpowered LED’s. “That information is then received by the processer housed in this central section and, depending on the programing, it can deliver either a mild shock or a lethal dose of voltage via the copper plating.”

The elemental paused his impromptu lecture for a moment to meet Isabel’s eyes and saw that the soubrette’s gaze flicker hesitantly from the collar to his eyes and back again, a look of unease and fear was still present on her features but it was clear she was listening, even if she hadn’t yet grasped the purpose behind his discourse.

“The more complex models even have wireless capabilities that let them notify their owners if they’re damaged, running low on power or if the wearer has been rendered unconscious.”

Giving the gamine a short, humourless smile which was meant to be reassuring, the mercenary withdrew a small metal paperclip from his shirt pocket and deftly unwound its outer edge until it held a vague L shape not unlike an allen key.

“This version however is nowhere near as complex; in fact it actually possesses quite a few flaws.”

So saying the elemental turned the collar over once again and began to deftly dismantle it with slow, practiced movements, using only the paperclip and his own hands to reveal hidden access panels, poorly disguised screws and other structural weak points, talking through each one as he did so until he had a neatly organized pile of components laid out on the floor between himself and the now slightly wide eyed soubrette.

“So tell me Isabel, does this still scare you?”

Isabel was slightly taken aback by the sudden offering of the young man's jacket. It was one of the nicer gestures he'd made during their interactions. Hell, it may have been the only truly kind expression he'd offered to her, period. Though considering it had been extended after all the trouble he'd been putting her though, the effect was somewhat dampened.

Speaking of dampened, she hadn't fully realized just how wet she'd become after the water bottle had been upended over her. She was only just now becoming aware of how her clothing was clinging to her skin and her pale cheeks flushed as she made the connection between how she must have looked and the offer. Even so she was somewhat hesitant in accepting the jacket, but she did take it and carefully slipped her arms into the sleeves. She'd never have been able to close the thing, Zephyr being much thinner than her through the chest and the hips, but it helped to some extent in any case.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he settled down on her level, listening to what he had to say though she was still gazing fixedly at the metal circle turning around in his hand. His tone was even and calm and his posture non-threatening, but even so she didn't fully trust him. She focused on trying to keep her breathing even and on processing what he was saying so as to avoid giving in to the creeping fear that he might change his demeanor and lock the device back around her sore neck.

Her gaze flickered between his face and the collar, trying to be sure that he knew she was listening at least to some extent, she just wasn't willing to let the collar slip out of her sight for more than a minute. He had a bad habit of making things appear and disappear as he wished and she didn't want to give him the chance to do it again with this particular item. She was just starting to calm down again, the last thing she needed was to worry about where the damned thing had gone.

She couldn't help letting her gaze linger just a little longer on his face when he smiled at her between words. Again she found herself thinking that she'd never actually gotten a genuine smile from the young man before this point in time. His expressions were always more mocking with a hint of superiority to them. Genuine smiles and calm, equally as genuine conversation between the two was a first and frankly she was a bit lost as to how to respond to the development.

There wasn't much time to dwell on it, though. As soon as his hands had moved and the discussion fell back to the collars her attention immediately snapped back to the device. A small shudder ran up her spine as he pried the spring-loaded halves apart. She was still listening as best she could, but it was difficult to do so when her barely repressed panic started to rise back up at the site of the open device. Zephyr didn't sound angry, nor chiding as he usually did. He was merely stating facts to her, but she couldn't help being afraid of him while that thing was still in his hands. Even more so now that he knew she was scared of them both.

It was hard to understand why he was giving her a lecture on all the bits and pieces of the collar in his hands. Maybe he was trying to make her understand how dangerous it really was? But she already knew what it was capable of, having had to wear one for roughly a year and living among a group of other women that had also been fitted with collars and bracelets so she could see what happened from an outsider's view at the same time. She was intimately acquainted with the different nuances of the thing and watching him slowly pull panels back and point out its different parts was increasingly difficult and unnerving.

And then quite unexpectedly he began to dismantle it, all the while describing what he was doing, seemingly for her benefit. She found herself hanging on every word he said, trying her very best to commit the information to memory in case she was ever unfortunate enough to run into another one of the damned things. If she could take it apart with something like a paperclip then she wouldn't be so helpless. She'd still be able to fight and maybe win. But the question of why he was giving her this advantage remained.

As she surveyed the arrangement of parts spread across the floor between them, her muscles slowly began to relax. She hadn't realized her fingernails has been digging into her arms until the pressure was released. Her panic was finally subsiding and it was getting easier to breathe.

She shook her head slowly as her eyes roved over the various bits and pieces that had moment before made up an object of her nightmares. "No," she breathed in a relieved sort of way and very tentatively reached to to prod at one of the screws, momentarily watching as it swiveled on the floor. "It's just pieces now. It can't hurt me when it's like this. There's no power to it," she continued, picking up the screw and passing ti between her fingers.

"I just don't understand why you're showing this to me." She still wouldn't look him in the eye when she spoke. Somehow it was less embarrassing that way, like she could pretend it wasn't Zephyr she was talking to. It also saved her the trouble of seeing any kind of triumphant look he might adopt, as he so often did when speaking to her. "You're giving me some kind of advantage doing this. I never get the advantage with you. I don't understand what kind of game you're playing."

Why was he doing this? Zephyr almost chuckled at the question. The girl made it sound so simple; as if there were only a single reason behind his actions rather half a dozen, and that didn’t even begin to cover the myriad of explanations he could give. Still it was probably for the best that the gamine thought in such a linear manner; it would make her far easier to manage until he could persuade her to a more practical paradigm.

That being said, he did need to give Isabel an answer. To buy himself a few moments to think he drew a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to start gathering the smaller collar components with a quiet nonchalance as he considered his next words.

Should he tell her that he’d needed to make some type of conciliatory gesture to mitigate the damage he’d sowed? Furthermore, than in using an older inferior model of the collar, the act cost him practically nothing while, in the soubrettes eyes he'd just shown her to overcome one of her greatest fears had had likely gained more of her trust than she herself realized?

No, direct as Isabel was, he rather doubted she’d appreciate quite so blunt a truth.

Could he, perhaps, say that he just wanted to be her friend? That within her, he saw someone with the potential to make things so much better; both for herself and mutant kind, if only she was brave enough let someone help her? That he wanted to show her what life could truly be like, that there was more to living than ending the lives of others?

Tempting but no, even dazed and confused as she was the gamine wouldn’t believe that for a moment.

Maybe he should simply tell the girl it was her own damn fault. That if she hadn’t made it a point to butcher the NYPD at every opportunity, hadn’t wound up on the nightly news as often as the weather then perhaps he wouldn’t have noticed her. That if she’d been just a little more circumspect about her power, hadn’t revealed exactly what she was capable of at King Pharmaceuticals, than he might not have even cared about her. That if she hadn’t been such an immature bitch her entire life maybe she would’ve had friends; friends who could have helped her right now.

Again tempting, and so true that the gamine couldn’t rationally deny, but he didn’t need to shake her self-confidence any more today.

“A game? I suppose that’s one way to look at it.” He answered softly as he placed one of the last pieces. “Would you agree that most of our time until now has been spent fighting each other?” He waited until he heard her mumbled affirmation before lifting his gaze from the pieces on the floor to her faintly blushing features.

”And did you enjoy any part of it? No? Nor did I.” Still waiting for the girl to look at him Zephyr moved his hand into her view, palm held out for the screw she continued to toy with. “Surprising as it may seem I don’t enjoy fighting you Isabel. I can and I will, but honestly I’d rather not. We shouldn’t fight each other.”

It didn’t take him long to catch the hints of anger on her face after that and he quickly continued before she could build any steam. “I’m not saying you can’t argue; if you can prove me wrong on something I will gladly concede the point, but we can only do that if we talk. Just talk to me Isabel. You don’t want to fight me, and talking is so much easier.”

He paused at that, wanting to give the buxom brunette a few seconds to digest the words and recognize the offer for what it was; a chance to well… not clean the slate precisely (he doubted she’d let go of a grudge so easily), but at least make it acceptably grubby.

He therefore felt no small amount of satisfaction when the shapely soubrette stopped twirling the the last remaining screw between her fingers and hesitantly dropped it into his waiting hand.

He gestured to the pile of electronics gathered on the napkin in front of him. “Tell me Isabel, would you want to see something like this again?”

Isabel remained relatively quiet as Zephyr began gathering up the disassembled pieces in the handkerchief he'd produced. She wanted to keep an eye on the pieces and his hands to be sure that nothing was being put back together yet. She didn't really think he'd be taking his time if he wanted to reassemble the collar, nor that he would be likely to do it right in front of her, but as long as she was stuck in a room with the thing she wasn't going to be able to fully relax. It might be harmless enough in pieces, but she had been strapped in one of them for far too long to underestimate it in any state. She wasn't exactly afraid of it anymore, but it was still enough to put her on edge.

There wasn't much she could say to argue the points he was making while she watched his hands, either, no matter how much she wanted to. Even when she thought of interjecting, he cut her off pretty quickly and continued to press his points. Did she want to fight with him? She certainly wasn't against the idea of making him bleed, but the cost of such attempts almost always outweighed the benefits. It was simple enough for him to say that talking was easier, but she'd been a person of action for as long as she could remember. She didn't particularly care for talking things out. Stabbing things had almost always worked out in her favor until he had stepped in and ruined everything.

She heaved a sigh as the conditions for their interactions were set. Arguing the point didn't seem like it'd be very productive and something about his words made the matter seem final, even if his tone was conversational. She supposed she could be civil enough to talk to him if she needed to, she just hoped that the need to do so would be few and far between. She much preferred Zephyr when she didn't have to deal with him for months at a time.

She stared at his hand apprehensively as he continued to hold it out for the screw she'd taken. Giving it back would go against her better instincts. The collar couldn't be completely put back together without it, even if just for the time being until a replacement was found. Pocketing it was a much more appealing option, but she figured keeping it would most likely lead to another argument, which would probably escalate into another fight, which had just been prohibited.

With a pained sort of expression she let the screw drop from her fingers and into his open palm, expecting that she'd regret her decision to cooperate sooner or later. She had little choice but to trust him for the time being, though it was far from easy to do so.

"I never want to see a collar again as long as I live," she replied, repressing a shudder as she did so. She'd already said it once, but it bore repeating. They were by far one of the worst pieces of machinery she'd ever come up against, the one exception being the metal creatures that had forced her into her old bracelet. She did her best not to think of them, not wanting to fall back into a panic.

Her gaze moved away from his hand and back over the the pile of pieces in the handkerchief, thinking of what else he could mean by his question. "I wouldn't mind seeing them taken apart, though. Those things are only ever good in pieces or destroyed completely." In fact, there was a sort of savage pleasure that could come from dismantling something that caused her so much fear and pain. She would likely take to that sort of revenge with relish were the devices within her reach, though only once she was able to come in contact with them without dissolving into hysterics first.

"I wouldn't mind seeing them taken apart, though. Those things are only ever good in pieces or destroyed completely."

Tying the corners of the handkerchief into a rough knot to form a crude sack a slight smile found its way onto Zephyr’s face as he listened to Isabel with half an ear. For all the harm his little ploy with the collar had caused, learning one of the girls deepest fears made it a price well worth paying. Now perhaps he could finally start working on the girls other skills… such as they were.

“Ah, something we can agree on at last.” He finished tying the knot and lifted his gaze back to the sullen soubrette, trying once again to catch her eye. “I’ve spent some time learning how to deal with the different collars and bracelets, I could teach you how to do the same, among other things, if you’d like.” He told her, carefully omitting precisely how he’d come across such knowledge. Mutants who fought for the government during the registration act weren't exactly unheard, few though they were, but the number who managed to live in the wake of the camps were fewer still.

“I wouldn’t be doing this out of the goodness of my heart of course.” The smile shifted into a slight smirk and a faint tone of amusement entered his voice as he mocked himself. “You know me better than that I hope. No, what I’d ask in return Isabel is that you remain discreet in your various… endeavors.”


He paused for a moment to gauge the Isabel’s reaction and upon seeing the mixture of confusion and suspicion on her features he swiftly clarified. “In short I don’t want to see you on the news, I don’t want to hear about you on the streets, I want people to forget about you, for now at least.”


“In return, we’ll meet once or twice a week and I’ll show you to deal with a different type of collar or something similar. I may also,” He paused again and glanced meaningfully at his jacket pocket as the envelopes inside shuffled slightly against the ingénues ribs. “give you homework from time to time, though I’ll do my best to keep it interesting.”

Shifting into a crouched position the elemental picked up the handkerchief containing the collars various electronics and then stood up. “For now though I think it would be best if we stopped here, I daresay you have a lot to think about. Remember what I said though, things will be far easier if you talk to me and anything you tell me in private will stay that way." He offered her his arm “Now would you like a hand up or should I leave?”

Isabel began to relax a little more as the pieces of what used to be a collar disappeared into the folds of the handkerchief-made-sack. With something like that she much preferred the out of sight out of mind approach and would be promptly putting in the effort to forget that the thing had ever been produced. It would be a lot easier if Zephyr would stop mentioning it.

However, his offer to teach her the inner workings of the mechanisms was highly appealing. The more she knew about them and how they worked, the easier it would be to wriggle out of one if she was ever unfortunate enough to find one clamped on her body once more. If she could dismantle them, she wouldn't be so afraid of them anymore. She absolutely despised being afraid of anything, and as such she was more than eager to find any way to dispel her fears. Even if it meant having to cooperate with the blowhard, as the anticipated catch required.

Becoming invisible was far less appealing. Isabel acted to be seen, not overlooked. She hated to be ignored. But if it meant she could gain something from it, she supposed she could at least attempt to do as he demanded. She could always think on it later and see if there was any way to wriggle around his rules.

"Fine." She still didn't trust him nor his guidelines, but she was willing to agree to the conditions for the time being. She could always refuse later, say she changed her mind or something. She'd say what she had to and agree to whatever he proposed so that she could get away from him as quickly as possible.

She watched quietly as he stood up, keeping an eye on his hands, her gaze occasionally flickering to his face. The offered hand was almost tempting. If she had to play the part of good girl who did as she was told it would be better to accept the offer. However, she wasn't quite ready to play that role fully yet. She'd played nice long enough for one day.

Ignoring the offer, she stood on her own, backing a couple of steps away from him once she was on her feet again. She resisted the urge to glance toward the door or to break down completely and make a run for it. The sooner he left, the sooner she could follow. "Go away."