It had started as a police call out. X-man needed. He hated being treated like some form of SWAT team, but he had answered anyway. He'd arrived as quickly as possible. The situation seemed relatively simple, at least as far as X-man work was concerned. Multiple hostages, single mutant making demands. It should have been easy.

It should have been simple.

However the police were refusing to meet the demands. They weren't even negotiating. Supposedly this qualified as an act of terror. It drove Cafas mad. Still, it was protocol, and he was in public, he couldn't go against it.

So damn simple.

They were saying the mutant was armed, and they had no idea what he was capable of. Cafas was left wondering what they had expected the X-men to do about it. Supposedly they wanted him to lead an assault. He told them that it would be impossible to do without alerting the so called terrorist. Then some idiot in a uniform pulled rank on him.

It was beyond stupid.

So he had done as he was told, and it had gone as he had expected. They broke down the door and Cafas received a bullet for his trouble. It didn't bother him, nor did it particularly bother him when the police filled the guy with bullets in return.

No

What bothered him were the bodies. Each and every one a visible mutant. He even recognised the hostage taker. Some anti-mutant extremist. Clearly he had gone from his usual preaching to trying to drag the mutant name through the mud. His plan, Cafas had to hand it to him, was pretty good. Claim to be a mutant, suddenly mutants are terrorists in the media, and even if you fail, you shoot a whole bunch of mutants, win win right?

That wasn't the worst of it.

The worst came as he was walking out when he overheard the idiot that had ordered the assault say "Well, they're only mutants, good riddance." and his little circle of cronies laughed. That had been the breaking point. Cafas knew right then that the X-men were, overall, failing. Deputising had been a mistake. The bureaucracy had cost lives. They were no closer to acceptance and equality.

Now he was mad, and he was doing something about it.

"Allison, be out front of sanctuary, we need to talk. Wear something that hides your features."

He grabbed a spare helmet for her and set off on his motorcycle, face covered and hair not visible, best not to attract too much attention. He rode as fast as the law would allow, occasionally faster when he could, but it was New York, you couldn't get anywhere real fast. Not in the evening, especially not without breaking all the road rules.

He came to a stop out side sanctuary and held out the helmet to the waiting figure. "Get on, don't want to be overheard."

Becoming unrecognizable was fairly easy for Allison, especially with warning. Her regular abstract tattoos were stripped out and replaced with a black bar down her spine, cliche scrolling lyrics on her side, and hearts along her arm. Nothing unusual, nothing too blatantly cliche, and a sufficient supply of ink for most situations. Then she buried herself under a hat, hoodie and worn out jeans and counted on nearly everyone being taller than her to keep her face completely hidden. Hands weren't particularly recognizable, especially with nothing on them.

Why Allison needed to hide her features was a bit more confusing. She couldn't think of anything Cafas was involved in that would require being unrecognizable... or at least, nothing she knew he was involved in, and she couldn't think of a reason for her to be told about whatever Cafas had kept secret.

Well, evidently she'd be finding out. "Where are we going?" The helmet was annoying though; if Allison had know. Cafas was going to bother with one this time she wouldn't have put the hat on yet. As it was, she had to take the hat off, tuck it into her hoodie's pocket, then twist her hair under the helmet instead. It only took a few minutes before she could get on the motorcycle behind Cafas (without any more cuddling than necessary, for once, since she was busy wondering what was going on), but it was still annoying.