For a split second Isabel had once again lost her grip on the Adapted's throat, her fingers sliding against the blood and sweat coating his skin. Before she could regain it he'd managed to get a hand under her leg and heave just hard enough to unbalance and ultimately flip her onto the ground. Unfortunately she couldn't do the same. He was bigger and heavier that she was and without the aide of her mutation she had no hope of tossing him off. Instead she had to settle for writhing and clawing at any part of him she could reach even as he struggled to get a hold on her flailing arms and threw punches at her ribs and face. The same blood and sweat was making it difficult for him to pin her down completely, but she was getting tired. Fighting was taxing in any situation, but left on her own without her abilities it was downright exhausting. The only thing saving her for the time being was the rush of adrenaline and the desperate need to get away and to murder the man in the process if possible.

The Adapted had finally managed to get a crushing grip on one of her wrists and was fighting to get the other one when he suddenly stopped. Isabel, still wriggling in her frenzy, failed to noticed the older man that approached and towered over them both until the gunshot rang out, effectively startling her into stillness. But her pause didn't last long as the body crumpled and she resumed her squirming to get out from under it.

"Don't you f*cking touch me," she spat, finally getting free of the body and clamoring unsteadily to her feet, refusing the hand that had been offered to her. She didn't know who this new man was, only that he had shot the other one. He still had the gun in one hand and he had engaged her for an unknown reason. She was still riding that wave of blinding anger that had been propelling her through the fight and now that her opponent was gone that anger was redirecting. No only was she on her own with no mutation, but her kill had been stolen as well. But as much as she wanted to punch the stranger right in his stupid, smug face she was no match for a bullet in her current position.

"I'm fine. Everything's fine. They're the ones in trouble," she insisted, breathing heavily and swiping at the blood on her face, wincing under the pressure of her hand. He nose was shattered and she'd bitten into the side of her tongue when she'd caught that knee to the chin. She could already feel bruises starting to bloom where she'd been struck. Everything was going to be sore for days. Spitting a mouthful of blood at the stranger's feet, she took a chance in looking away from him to scan the Park. There was no way the corpse was the only one out there, his buddies just hadn't showed up to collect him yet. But with one already dead she doubted they'd chance getting too close again. She'd already been hit, they'd just wait. She had to get out of the Park and find Zephyr before she went down.

Panic hit again as she realized she didn't know where Zephyr had gone. He wouldn't just leave her, he never really had before, but he'd have to get himself away from the Adapteds, too. She was almost positive he wouldn't last as long as her if he wound up in a fight and what if he'd been hit with a dart, too? He probably wouldn't leave her behind, but he'd need to make an escape to even have the choice.

"Where's Zeph?" she asked, more to herself than to the older man that had approached her. She spun, scanning the area again more quickly and more desperately. She'd gotten all turned around in the attempted escape and the fight. She didn't even know which direction to look in. "Did you see him?" she continued, this time addressing the stranger as she spun back to face him. "Scrawny guy with a dumb face, he was just with me. Did you see where he went? I have to find him, he's my-" Associate? Handler? Almost-friend-when-drunk? "...person. I can't leave him here with these people I need to know where he went." She needed Zephyr to be there with her. Without him she'd never get herself through that portal and back on the right side of things, and they were running out of time. As the adrenaline started to ebb she could feel herself tiring. A deep fatigue was settling in her muscles and her mind was starting to feel fuzzy, even the more urgent thoughts struggling to stay in focus. She had to keep moving for as long as she could. If she stood there for much longer and did nothing she'd be down for the count.

Adapted were anathema to mutants.

A surprisingly simple concept, and unlike most conventional wisdom it had the benefit of not being entirely wrong. The ability to utterly negate powers was something most mutants were ill prepared to face, especially those who used their gifts day in and day out, in much the same way that modern teennagers felt adrift without their cellphones.

Perhaps even worse than the adapted itself however was the fear and uncertainty regarding their abilities. Like most mutants, on the surface there was nothing that made them stand out from the crowd, you could stand right next to one and be none the wiser. It wasn’t until you tried, and failed to use your powers that it became apparent, and then the questions began.

Where were they? Was it the person next to you? The group walking down the street? Someone in a passing car? It was almost impossible to tell.

Did they know about you? Were they doing it on purpose? Why would they be following you? What was their range and were you even going the right way to leave?

Simple questions but while they built upon and revolved around each other, ultimately they hinged on the fact that most mutants couldn’t spot adapteds or determine their range. For those who could however the situation became rather different.

From one step to the next Simon felt the world the world swim as the crack of another bullet cut through the air and he suddenly became aware of the winds hurtling between city blocks, the winding gusts which followed traffic and wound down back alleys and every quiescent patch of air in passing cars and nearby buildings. He felt all of it, and in that moment between steps his feet left the ground and failed to return.

Having only barely made it out of the park to begin with, returning to the scene of the fight, what little remained of it,took next to no time at all. The sight that greeted him however gave Simon pause and left him lingering by the nearest tree.

Isabel was still alive, that much would have been clear even without what little light was left in the park, and if the volume of her cursing was any indication the shapely soubrette was, if not fine, then at least not terribly injured. Her assailant was dead, as expected, though the still bleeding bullet hole in the man's temple was not.

Still, it took no great leap of logic to trace the wound back to yet another new arrival; this one just tall enough to look down on the brunette with a build that was largely concealed by some form of suit, though glinting gold gun in his hand hand suggested he’d the means to afford attire finer than most. So tentative ally at best and incredibly naive samaritan at worst, though given he’d killed for a complete stranger Simon was leaning more towards the former. Either way he wasn’t immediately hostile and was actually trying to play nice if the hand he’d offered Duskmoor was any indication.

Not needing to see how that particular scene would play out (the man would probably keep his hand, at least until Duskmoor realized she had her powers back) Simon cast his senses out, taking in the surrounding area and was only slightly surprised when he noted his own attacker curled up behind a another tree only a few feet away.

Well, that made one less loose end.

---

Returning only a few moments later, said loose end dragged behind him, the elemental found little had changed though Isabel’s posture, spoke of a sudden weariness. Was she just running out of adrenaline or was it something more? He hadn’t been able to tell for certain what they’d been hit with earlier but he’d not been able to find a tranquilizer dart, though he’d effectively been blind when he was looking. Regardless it would probably be best if he stepped in-

"...Scrawny guy with a dumb face, he was just with me. Did you see where he went?

-or he could just wait and let the girl dig herself a hole, it wouldn’t take that long; she rarely even needed a shovel most days. Yes, he‘d just take another moment or two to make sure no one else was sneaking up on them and give his ‘partner’ the courtesy of finishing her train of thought.

“I have to find him, he's my… person"

“…”

“ I can't leave him here with these people I need to know where he went."

“...”

That… that was- He honestly didn’t know whether to be confused, irritated, amused, touched or some combination of all thereof. No scratch that, he definitely had the first one, it was the other three which were threatening to give him a headache and that simply wasn’t fair.

Good grief, when had Isabel become complicated?

No, no this was not the time for this, he could fixate on how she’d someone managed to dig herself out of a hole later. For now they needed to get moving, mysterious ally or not.

Walking out into the slightly lighter shadows with only a faint trace of a limp Simon swung one hand forward and, with a silently assisting gust of wind, tossed the body of his own attacker between Isabel and her ‘rescuer’.

“So little confidence in me Isabel? You wound me.” The half smirk which accompanied his words faded and was replaced by a frown as he got closer and had a clear look at the brunettes bloodied face. Given her normal defenses, seeing her so visibly hurt was jarring to say the least- were her eyes drifting?

“Are you feeling alright Isabel?” Wait, why was he asking? She wouldn’t admit if she had a broken leg much less taken one too many blows to the head. Easier to just assume she had concussion and be pleasantly surprised if he was wrong.

“Here take this.” He withdrew a handkerchief and placed it in her unresisting hand. “Try to clean yourself up a little and keep an eye out for anyone else.” Keeping her occupied was the key, if she could stay awake and coherent for at least a few minutes that would be a good start but given how she was starting to sway…

Well, it wasn’t as if he had any better ideas at the moment

Turning back to their still unnamed comrade? Accomplice? Simon and drew himself up while staying in arms reach of Isabel. “Apologies” He began with a false smile, “as you can see we’ve had a touch of bad luck and I can’t help but feel that more is on the way. Would I be right in assuming that you have somewhere we could stay until it blows over?”

In all honestly, Poseidon had thought he was being rather gentlemanly in his greeting of the fallen brunette. He had offered her his warmest smile, a teasing phrase, and extended an olive branch to show her that she was safe, even if it was just for the time being. But the woman’s reactions to his gesture had been not what he had expected. Rather than a blush and a sigh of relief, she snapped at him like a cornered beast and fumbled to put space between them. Ah well, it took all kinds to make the world go-round, he guessed.

With a gentle nod of his head, Jorge stepped back, folding his hands in front of him and staring down at her. She was interesting up close. Her stature, which seemed rather unimposing, create a stark contrast to the coat of crimson ichor that adorned her every square inch. She looked rather like an candied apple, if he were being honest, but this was one confectionary delight that he would be regret taking a bite of.

As he wanted for the woman to regain her stance, he lifted an eyebrow when she grumbled that she was fine and that it was the rest of the people like the fallen agent who should be worried. Admittedly, she was correct in that regard but considering her wobbling stance, it would seem that there were more pressing matters to attend to.

A sudden vigor filled the woman at the realization that her friend was not by her side. Turning her eyes upon him, she quickly began to release a torrent of questions.

>>"Did you see him? Scrawny guy with a dumb face, he was just with me. Did you see where he went? I have to find him, he's my-...person. I can't leave him here with these people I need to know where he went."

Jorge again eyed the woman. For a moment he wondered about her and whatever...uses...she could have to the mutant community, but his thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of another. It seems that the young woman’s person had found them, a bit worse for the wear as well. It seemed that SUPER was in rare form tonight; not surprising considering that a hole in the fabric of reality had been created by mutants (more than likely). He would have been jumpy too if he didn’t realize the immense potential it possessed.

He turned his dark, earthy eyes to the other young man, tilting his head as he gave him his full attention. The gold plated gun still resting in his hand, it was now pointed downward rather than at either of the two individuals.

>>“Apologies...as you can see we’ve had a touch of bad luck and I can’t help but feel that more is on the way. Would I be right in assuming that you have somewhere we could stay until it blows over?”

He smirked. Normally Jorge was not that altruistic. Oh for the sake of his public image he was. Charities, fundraisers, etc., but for person-to-person contact, Jorge kept a close eye on himself. The only time that attitude changed was when he was dealing with mutants. Admittedly, he knew nothing of these two, but from the brief glimpses he saw, as well as how forcefully they fought against the oppressive reach of SUPER, the crime boss would remember that old adage: “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

A dip of his head in acknowledgment, and Jorge gestured back towards the street. ”Please,” he said, opening his jacket to slip the gun safely back into its holster. ”My assistant shall take us all to safety.” He lifted his head, looking off in the distance. More unmarked vehicles were showing up. He shook his head disappointedly. ”As you said, things will get worse before they get better. Come along…” He turned and began to lead the way.

A few steps away and Poseidon stopped when a man came charging out of the bushes. Another agent, only this one was not an adapted, just a human. He held a telescopic baton in his hand, his gun seemingly lost in the darkness. Before he could swing the baton down, Jorge caught the man by the throat (expecting him, clearly) and squeezed. A sneer on his lips and muttered something into the man’s ear.

Poseidon continued on, still dragging the human agent who surprisingly started to bludgeon himself in the head with his own baton, over and over. He stumbled along, still hitting himself until Jorge released his grip from the man’s throat and sighed. Producing a handkerchief from his pocket, he shook his head as he wiped any wayward blood from his hands.

”Nuisances…” he mumbled. He then turned towards the other two when he spotted the sleek towncar pull up to the side of the road, Duke Manchester behind the wheel. ”I take it that the both of you are new in town?”

The lack of a quick reply from the stranger stoked Isabel's irritation, having hoped for at least a vague answer that she could try to work with. Time was important in this situation and wasting any of it could come with a serious cost. Even a negative answer would be better than him just standing there and sizing her up. At least then she could stop standing around doing nothing and try to figure something out herself.

She was just opening her mouth to berate the newcomer when Zephyr's voice cut her off. She perked up, visibly relieved to see that he had turned up and was none too worse for wear. Judging from his snarky timing she might not have been waiting all that long for an answer after all, it might've just felt that way in her urgency. At least the young man was in one piece and had apparently held his own better than she'd anticipated judging from the body he tossed ahead of him. He must have gotten luckier than she had and picked the right direction to flee in. It was just like her to wind up running into trouble rather than away from it.

"I'm fine. Everything's fine," she repeated when asked, surprised by the handkerchief pressed into her hand but accepting it anyway. Normally she might have argued against it, but at the moment she was far too tired to start a verbal spat and keeping an eye on their surroundings did sound like a better idea even with the difficulty of the fading light and her divided focus. She blotted the handkerchief gingerly against her face as she distractedly scanned, tentatively tracing a split in her lower lip and what felt like a cut on her cheek where a fist had just barely missed her eye. Exploring her mangled nose she was elated to find that it had already pieced itself back together without her realizing, which meant they were out of the Adapteds' field at least for the time being. Now they just had to stay out of it.

Her attention drifted away from the Park as a whole and back to the stranger when he finally spoke again. Isabel would only begrudgingly admit that another perk of having Zephyr around was that he usually had enough patience and presence of mind to look for assistance when needed and to go about doing it in the right way. She was more prone to shouting, violence, and trying to do everything herself and in this particular situation that probably wouldn't have turned out so well. This side of the Rift was only getting worse by the second and having someone there that could keep his head on straight was a much needed asset even if she was a little late in accepting it.

The promise of things only getting worse was concerning and she crowded just a little closer to Zephyr as they finally began moving, hopefully in the direction of safety. She didn't trust the stranger with the golden gun and she wasn't so sure that following him was the best option, but it was one of few they seemed to have. If she could just manage to avoid losing Zephyr again they'd probably be alright. She just had to hope if things started to go south again that he'd be willing to ghost her out of it as quickly as he'd snatched her away from the Rift.

Isabel startled when yet another individual made an attempt to attack the three of them, small spikes sprouting from her body at random in her surprise. It was some comfort at least to realize the newest individual wasn't an Adapted. The ensuing display of violence was also comforting in a concerning kind of way. The gun-toting older man was obviously a mutant and some kind of psychic one by all appearances. She didn't care for mind-based mutants. They were so much harder to fight if things went south and judging by how the attacker had bludgeoned himself to a pulp it would be a very difficult fight. She hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"I guess you could say that," she answered once they reached the car, the spikes disappearing before she slid all the way across the back seat, wanting to be near the door in case she felt they needed to bail. She was still on edge, but being in the vehicle brought a little bit of relief. A quicker getaway was always a good thing and getting off of her unsteady feet for a moment was welcome. Her adrenaline levels had crashed and brought with it a heavy wave of fatigue and a dizzyingly pounding headache. The sooner they could get somewhere quieter and more secure, the better.

"We were on our way out when we got jumped," she continued, gently pressing her fingers to one of her temples to try to alleviate a little pressure. It had been a while since she'd been on the receiving end of such a harsh beating and she certainly hadn't missed the feeling. "I don't wanna stay here longer than I have to. This place is terrible and I hate it."

With Isabel successfully distracted, and ignoring her false claims about being fine with a roll of his eyes, Simon was able to turn the preponderance of his attention towards their unnamed benefactor who, if nothing else was willing to continue with a guise of civility. This in spite of the cadavers they’d each brought to the metaphorical table.

So likely mafia, private defense or some variations thereof, those were the only groups the hessian was familiar with that could transition comfortably between sudden violence and cordial composure. Add in the fact that Mr. Unshaven had been willing to kill for two absolute unknowns and he was likely a recruiter or at the very least an information broker of some sort, probably passing by to inspect the Rift.

Assumptions of his motives and background aside, it was evidently that old bristle beard considered Duskmoor and himself to be of value and, importantly, of more value alive than dead. A useful fact to remember when they had more time to talk, for now that Simon was perfectly content to follow the other man's lead away from the train of cars parading down the main street straight towards them, more than one of which registered the disconcerting emptiness he’d come to associate with Adapteds.

Yes, leaving would be a very good idea.

Assuming, of course that they didn’t doddle in dealing with yet another interruption. In all honesty Simon had been perfectly willing to ignore the remaining agent hiding amongst the bushes if he’d just stayed out of their way. Unfortunately the young fool had decided the best course of action was to charge their group with nothing more than a baton, despite having to know at least one of them carried a gun.

It was a pity really, the darwin awards could have used an individual of this caliber, still whereas Isabel reacted to the ill conceived charge with a sprouting of spikes Simon merely sighed and hobbled another step to give her a clear path while also putting Mr. Unshaven between himself and the soon to be corpse. What followed was.. instructive to say the least.

Old Bristle Beard was a mutant, and at first glance it seemed like he had a penchant for amorphous gift of telekinesis. Granted it could have been telepathy, and the casual manner with which the older man had caught his assailants neck hinted at some form of enhanced senses, yet Simon was reluctant to attribute that to a mind altering power. If that were the case he suspected Isabel would have been acting far more agreeable towards her ‘rescuer’ than she was.

That wasn’t to say telekinesis was much less of a concern given it was one of the few powers the hessian had no direct means of detecting or defending against. Still judging from how the old man waited for his assailant get within arms reach rather than blasting them the moment they were in view, it was possible his powers had a range limitation, maybe even touch based?

Suffice to say he wouldn’t be shaking the man’s hand any time soon.

Still with that final distraction deal with the three of them made it to the nearest street and into the type of sedan you often saw at airports, the ones that tried to be limos and were more successful than they had any right to be.

”I take it that the both of you are new in town?”

‘Something like” he agreed, having caught the equivocacy in the man's question as Isabel retracted her quills and stepped into the back of the car. “You could say we have a passing familiarity, enough to have expectations and be surprised when they aren’t met, hence my friends.” He added before slipping into the seat beside Isabel and shutting the door. He doubted Bristle Beard would have tried to join them when the front seat was still open but he saw no need to tempt fate with what he’d seen of the man’s powers so far.

“... I don't wanna stay here longer than I have to. This place is terrible and I hate it."

Giving an exasperated sigh Simon took another pair of pills from the jar in his pocket and quickly swallowed them. If Isabel felt well enough to begin complaining then he likely had more than a few headaches coming his way, and healing was far from a stress free activity in and of itself.

“We’ll be able to leave once things die down.” he reminded her, absently patting her knee as he focused on healing his own foot; the limb turning briefly ethereal as he reset bones and shifting joints and ligaments into their proper place over the course of a minute or so. He then glanced back at the soubrette and frowned when he caught her grimacing as she rubbed her temples. Much as he wanted to quip that she had a harder head than most it seemed the brunette really had taken a beating back in the park, her face was picture of cuts, blood and bruises.

Could do something about that? No this wasn’t the time, they needed to sort their situation with the old man first. Still, for now he could at least do something about the pain as he quietly offered one of his pills to Isabel with a slight nudge before turning back to the front of the car.

“So, I don’t believe we had a chance to trade names earlier” He started with same faux amiability he used in the park. “You can call me Dio and and the charming woman beside me is Isabel” He continued with a slight flourish of his hand. “So Mr…” He paused, waiting Bristle Beards name, “to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

---

OOC: This ran on for longer than I expected so I decided to just cut it off here. If anyone wants edits let me know.

A small smirk on his lips, the older crime boss continued to lead the way, ignoring the gurgling sound of blood filled lungs that came from behind him. The agent wouldn’t pose any more of a danger but they needed to continue making their escape because there were always more agents around. Like ants, they rarely traveled alone and considering the sizable mutant event that was occuring, they would show in force soon enough. As much as he loved to drown and swish them about like tinker toys, there just wasn’t the time.

As he marched to the expensive sedan that pulled up to the corner, Jorge immediately opened the back door for both his two new cohorts. Only once they were in did he open the passenger door and climb in next to his right-hand man, Duke Manchester. The dark-skinned man gave the older a nod before he put the car into gear and calmly pulled away from the curb. It was only when they were on the road did Jorge turn to glance back to the others. ‘

>>“... I don't wanna stay here longer than I have to. This place is terrible and I hate it."

>>“We’ll be able to leave once things die down.”

He smirked a little as he observed the other two. He knew that they were both mutants. He had witnessed the male conjurer some sort of telekinetic or aerokinesis the lift the female into the tree with him earlier. As for the woman, she was interesting. Something of her abilities had been shown earlier but he was too far away to truly tell what it was; that least that was until they were attacked mere moment ago. After Jorge had dispatched of their last attacker, a glance at the bristling woman revealed some sort of boney spines or spikes from across her body -- more than interesting.

Mixed with the ferocity he had noticed earlier from the brunette, she certainly could be a force to be reckoned with. Already the man’s mind was churning as he tried to think of the best way to approach the situation. Really he didn’t know anything about either person but they certainly didn’t seem like X rejects or good samaritans just having a bad day; but could they be truly valuable assets? He would have to find that out.

He turned to his driver. ”Back to the club, please, Mr. Manchester.”

”Of course, sir,” Duke smirked, his silver-colored eyes pointed forward but only after casting a quick glance into the backseat towards the two new passengers.

As Jorge settled in, he only looked back when the male of the two began to raise his voice to begin conversation.

>>“So, I don’t believe we had a chance to trade names earlier...You can call me Dio and and the charming woman beside me is Isabel...So Mr…to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

Jorge nodded. ”Dio, Ms. Isabel,” he greeted. He gestured towards the man driving. ”This is my associate, Mr. Duke Manchester. And my name is Poseidon.” He smirked as he turned to look ahead. ”It certainly is lovely to meet the both of you. We’re headed to my club, if that suits you? SUPER knows better than to come by without cause and you both are free to wait there until things calm down.” He sighed. ”Trust me, SUPER will be buzzing around that rip like bees pollinating a virgin garden.”

The motion of the car did nothing to assuage the vague dizziness Isabel was feeling, nor the glare of passing lights for her aching head. Closing her eyes only proved to aggravate the vertigo so she simply had to deal with the lighting and let her focus fall on the darker floor of the car to try and compensate. It was better to be headachy than nauseous. They'd probably made a poor enough first impression as it was and she doubted Zephyr would appreciate a repeat of one of their messier drunken cab rides.

The young man's reassurances didn't do much to make her feel better, though the unexpected weight on her leg wasn't entirely unpleasant. The slowly drying gore splattered across her battered face did well to hide any color that settled in her cheeks at least. Leaving immediately would have been more to her preference. 'When things die down' could mean being stuck on the wrong side of things for an extended period of time. Interest in that Rip wouldn't die down overnight and if there were people out there targeting others they'd be lurking around the area as much as possible. Her real concern was the possibility of the Rift closing before they got a chance to get back to it and make another attempt to get through. A thing like that couldn't sustain itself forever, right? The idea of getting stuck where they were was incredibly concerning but she was simply too tired to muster up any amount of panic over it. The best she could do was a foreboding sense of unease in the pit of her stomach.

She tired to distract herself from the discomfort of the car's movements by curiously watching part of the young man's leg fade out of view. Had she not been watching the floor already she might have missed it entirely and while she wasn't exactly sure what it was all about she figured it had something to do with the problems they'd just run into. Apparently he hadn't gotten away completely unscathed after all. The sudden nudge nearly earned an irritated remark, having been rather captivated by the event, but seeing what she was being offered stopped it before it got out and she accepted the pill without complaint. By now she knew what it was, having seen Zephyr popping the damn things like candy often enough. He must have been feeling rather generous to part with one.

The conversation at hand brought her attention back to the older man ad the driver in the front seat - Poseidon and Duke Manchester respectively. The process of dry swallowing the pill was the only thing that saved Zephyr and his unfamiliar moniker from being outed as false. Isabel didn't think she'd ever heard him use that particular name before, but she knew just enough Spanish to figure it as a word for god. She barely managed not to roll her eyes at the thought. He would stroke his own ego like that. Still, even if it'd be easy enough to recall for that reason she'd have to remember to use it consistently. It wouldn't hurt to try and keep the two of them out of too much unnecessary trouble.

"A club?" she commented, unable to completely keep the ungrateful tone from her voice. The prospect of navigating a noisy club atmosphere with her head trying to split in half was less than appealing. She wasn't really sure what she'd been expecting for their destination, but the reality of where they were headed hadn't even occurred to her. If there was any mercy left in the world there would at least be a quieter back room somewhere that they could retreat to and discuss what was going on. She didn't know if the painkiller would have kicked in by the time they reached the place, but she found herself hoping Zephyr carried something good and strong.

"And who's SUPER? The guys that jumped us?" she asked, agitated by her lack of knowledge about the whole thing. At least back on the right side of the Rip she had a general idea of who her enemies were. The uncertainty on this side unnerved her. "If they've got no problem going after us out in public like that then what's gonna stop them from showing up at your little club?" They had Adapteds so mutants wouldn't be any concern for them and if they had enough people even a stack of guns on the mutant side might not deter them. Isabel had seen mutant homes raided before. If they wanted to target someone badly enough they'd find a way to do it.

“Poseidon” Simon paused briefly at that moniker before nodding, a part of him suddenly rather glad that he’d decided to avoid his usual sobriquet. Granted the hessian really had no room to talk, but still, when you named yourself after the greek god of the Ocean you willingly abandon any pretense of mystery about your mutation. Such blatant titles were generally only used by the arrogant, who believed themselves untouchable, and the powerful who had more to gain from the reputation boost of such an alias then they lost from having their powers known.

Given from what he’d seen of Bristle Poseidon thus far, Simon could comfortably assign the man to the latter category, which was both a good and bad thing; the former because it meant the man likely had resources and would actually be capable of assisting Isabel and himself in escaping. The latter however was because the type of personality who could both acquire such resources, hold them and commit cold blooded murder without hesitation tended to not be the most mentally balanced of individuals.

As such Simon was more than willing to play things close to the chest until he had a better grasp of their benefactors characters, even if that meant using an alias he’d never used with Isabel before. He’d just have to hope the girl retained enough presence of mind to avoid his other appellation until it no longer mattered.

With those thoughts put to rest Dio turned his attention to the rest of Posiedons statement, the existence of organization named SUPER who apparently held no reservations in attacking mutants with unknown capabilities was… not surprising precisely, but more depressing. People who charged headfirst at the unknown tended to be either zealots/thugs who cared nothing about the risks and were easily replaceable, or government agents who thought themselves prepared and again, were easily replaceable due to the bottom pit of debt most governments could issue.

Going by the fact they were expected to oversee the Rift Simon was edging towards SUPER being a government agency and the fact that he had Isabel had run across them in less than an hour, left him with no small amount of irritation. He couldn’t even honestly claim it was all Isabel’s fault since he had attracted a fair amount of attention when he’d spirited her away.

Not that he was going to tell her that.

Speaking of the girl Simon stole another glance at the brunette. Even with using his handkerchief to clean up the worst of the blood the the bunettes features were still coated in crimson and her lips held an unpleasant grimace, though that would hopefully fade once the medication she’d taken kicked in. Her eyes also seemed more focused which was a good sign. Making out anything more than though was difficult given the dried gore on her face and shirt, they’d have to do something about that; admittedly it was part of and parcel of her fighting style but that amount of blood tended to draw attention.

“We’re headed to my club, if that suits you? SUPER knows better than to come by without cause and you both are free to wait there until things calm down. Trust me, SUPER will be buzzing around that rip like bees pollinating a virgin garden.”

Yes, they’d definitely need to do something about her appearance if they were going to a public venue, even one that was likely just a front for illicit activities. The fewer people who took note of them the better.

"And who's SUPER? The guys that jumped us? ….what's gonna stop them from showing up at your little club?"

“At a guess, SUPER is some Quasi-government organization tasked with handling mutant activities” He cut in smoothly, squeezing the brunettes knee lightly as he gave her a quiet look that conveyed his exasperation with her tone. They did not need to annoy the man who was currently their guide and potential benefactor in a world they had no place being in. “Otherwise they wouldn’t be expected to ‘swarm’ the Rift yes?” He asked glancing back at Poseidon for confirmation.

“As for why they wouldn’t assault our new friends club well…” He squeezed Isabel leg again and caught her eye. “If I had to wager, I’d say the place is an unofficial Sanctuary, one of those places everyone knows is up to no good but too much trouble for the authorities to deal with.” He turned to Poseidon once more. “Would that be fair assessment?”

“Now with that being said, it would probably be best if we didn’t attract too much attention and unfortunately Isabel” He gestured at her face and shirt. “you rather scream attention right now. No offense meant to your security Poseidon” He added to the bearded man, “but the less memorable we are the better, so Isabel, would you object if I took care of the mess? You won’t feel a thing, I promise.”

The park was disappearing into the background. Jorge knew better than the hang around when that many SUPER agents would dwell. This rip was a recent event and SUPER would be doing their best to control the border until they were forced to hand over the reigns to city officials. Mutants may be their jurisdiction but there were still certain protocols that they would have to abide by. Soon enough, Isabel and Dio would be able to cross back over unseen, so in the meantime they just needed to lay low.

Where else would they go but the Atlantis Club? SUPER didn’t have a means of getting to him there. Even if they had seen him make off with these two, there was so much red tape and planning to get into his club that the duo would be moved before they could even bother to gain entry. The two would be safe and, until then, he could learn a bit more about them.

>>"And who's SUPER? The guys that jumped us? ….what's gonna stop them from showing up at your little club?"

Jorge just grinned to the young woman. She certainly was a bit of a ball-buster but he couldn’t fault her for that. Her first experience in this dimension was being tagged and jumped by SUPER; that would make anyone testy. However, before he could open his mouth to say anything, the other young man jumped in.

>>“At a guess, SUPER is some Quasi-government organization tasked with handling mutant activities...Otherwise they wouldn’t be expected to ‘swarm’ the Rift yes? As for why they wouldn’t assault our new friends club well…If I had to wager, I’d say the place is an unofficial Sanctuary, one of those places everyone knows is up to no good but too much trouble for the authorities to deal with….Would that be fair assessment?”

The crime boss smirked. Carefully he nodded his head, watching the two in the rearview window. ”Very good. I like you. Good head on your shoulders.” He opened his jacket, slipping his gun back into the holster and retrieving something else that was nestled within.

>>“Now with that being said, it would probably be best if we didn’t attract too much attention and unfortunately Isabel...you rather scream attention right now. No offense meant to your security Poseidon...but the less memorable we are the better, so Isabel, would you object if I took care of the mess? You won’t feel a thing, I promise.”

He shook his head, no offense taken by anything that Dio had said. It was true that Isabel did certainly look a mess; that simply wouldn’t do. Even though they were coming in through the private entrances, there were still enough bystanders around to call in a bloodied woman sitting in the back of a sedan. However, there was another matter that needed to be handled first. Reaching back over the car seat, he offered a small, black, handheld stun gun to Dio.

”If you would be so kind? Your friend there was tagged with a microchip when shot at,” he explained. ”Run a the taser over the wound to fry the tracking chip. That will prevent SUPER from following you both any further.”

Jorge turned back to face the road, allowing Dio and Isabel to do whatever they needed. He didn’t eavesdrop on their conversation, instead focusing on the road unless he was asked to join in himself. The city passed by them quickly enough and soon they were finding themselves in a rather cozy block of buildings and offices and stores near the river. Duke drove in silence and only turned when the neon lights of the Atlantis Club came into view. A sign up front said that the club was closed for renovations so they shouldn’t have to worry about being spotted by club goers.

Popping open his door, he turned back to the other two. ”Come along. Let’s get the both of you some peace of mind.”

So the stranger called himself Poseidon. Isabel just barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his introduction. Another one naming himself after a god and probably with an ego to match. She could hardly handle Zephyr Dio on a good day. Having to deal with him and play nice with some new unknown with an inflated opinion of himself would be a major headache. She hoped they wouldn't have to stay for very long. Getting back home was her main priority and there was only so long she could play nice before her frustrations got the better of her.

Speaking of which it would be nice if Zephyr Dio stopped squeezing her leg like he was. It was both irritating and incredibly distracting. Doubtful as she was she still wanted to pay a least a little bit of attention to what was being said concerning SUPER. An organization that employed Adapteds to target mutants was incredibly unsettling especially with how quickly they had found the pair of them. But it was difficult to pay attention when the young man kept redirecting it back to himself. It was even more irritating that she was wary enough of their escort to want to avoid openly arguing with Zephyr Dio over the issue. She had to settle for simply returning his exasperated glance. It didn't escape her notice that his own reprimanding was being done very subtly so following that lead had probably been a good decision.

Isabel couldn't quite manage to keep any power in her glare, however, when the young man likened the mystery club to the Sanctuary. She perked up a little at the idea, brightening with the older man's confirmation. Certainly nothing could compare to the real thing, but if they managed to find themselves a stand-in for her home until they made it back across the Rift she would feel a bit more comfortable while they waited for the SUPER activity to die down and figured out how to cross. No threat of authorities, Adapteds keeping their distance, it probably was their best shot at being left alone. They just had to hope there wasn't some lofty fee the older man would try to collect in exchange for sheltering them.

Glancing down at herself when Zephyr Dio drew attention to her gory state Isabel really couldn't find any room to argue with him. She had certainly come out of fights looking much better than she currently did. She tugged at her bloody shirt with an expression of distaste, finding that it had dried and stuck to her skin in places. How off-putting she looked wasn't much of a concern for her, but the discomfort of flaky, stiff clothing was enough for her to want to fix the issue. She just wasn't so sure she wanted Zephyr Dio to be the one that did it. Ghosting, which she assumed was how it would be handled, had produced some less than desirable results for her in the past when it came to her clothing and the last thing she wanted was to wind up naked in the back of a stranger's car. Their first impressions hadn't been all that great as it was, their second one didn't need to be quite so revealing.

Before she could answer, though, a gun was being passed into the back seat with instructions to point it at her. "A tracking chip?" she repeated incredulously, immediately back on edge, both horrified and offended by the idea. It might have been better it if they'd used a tranquilizer dart. The idea of those Adapteds knowing exactly where they were gave her goosebumps. Disgusting.

"Don't you point that at me," she warned the young man in a low voice, not comfortable with the idea of the barrel of a strange gun belonging to a strange man being aimed at her. She was already scooting forward in her seat to make enough room to slide her hand up the back of her shirt where she could push the chip out of her skin and into her open palm. At least the painkiller seemed to be kicking in, the stinging from earlier having gone and her finding no discomfort in forcing the chip out of her body. The second shot she'd taken required a small hole to be cut in the leg of her pants to get to the chip stuck in her thigh, but it wasn't long before it joined the other in her hand. "Here." She held them out for him to fry and settled back into her seat trying not to fall into the trap of thinking too much about being tagged. That would have to wait. She hoped the club was still serving alcohol.

Isabel dropped her head back against the headrest and ran a hand gingerly over her face. So much panic and uncertainty was exhausting and with a fight to top it all off she was ready to retreat somewhere quiet for a few hours and recuperate. It was a shame she likely wouldn't see any peace for at while yet. "Fix the mess if you want, but leave everything where it's supposed to be," she said, shifting a one-eyes glance in Zephyr's Dio's direction once she remembered the offer he'd made. Just a little further and their temporary safe haven would finally come into sight and then maybe she could afford to relax a little.

Subtlety had never been Isabel’s strong suit and it wasn’t difficult to understand why; the girls mutation usually let her to cut straight to the heart of a matter and shrug off any potential consequences. Add in the fact she’d spent her early years as a leg breaker for a mutant mafia and it was plain to to see why she favoured what could charitably be called more… direct solutions.

Still disliking something was not the same as being incapable of it. Whether it was due to anxiety, mental strain or having ended her adrenaline rush, the soubrette had demonstrated surprising restraint and while she clearly wasn’t happy with the present situation she hadn’t resorted to her usual tantrums to try and get her way.

It was a small step forward but Simon would take what he could get, now he just had to make sure she didn’t take three steps back-

“Don't you point that at me,"

Which was of course when Poseidon produced a taser and claimed Isabel needed a good shock, or rather, the tracking chip she carried. While Simon couldn’t really say he disagreed with the idea, he’d learned that provoking the buxom brunette in an enclosed space rarely worked out well.

“The thought never crossed my mind.” He replied with an utter lack of sincerity as he took the weapon from the other man and carefully kept it pointed to the floor before setting it aside. Isabel was more than capable of removing the chips herself now that she knew about them and in any case she wasn’t the only one who’d been tagged.

Slipping a hand under his jacket Simon rested his palm over his ribs where he’d been hit earlier. He’d thought it was just a glancing shot when he hadn’t found a bullet and after healing the skin he’d not paid it any more attention. Now if he focused a little deeper… ah, there it was. His fingers and part of his chest became briefly ethereal under his jacket before he withdrew his hand and stared at the chip resting in it that was no bigger than a grain of rice.

“Well, that’s disconcerting.” He announced, taking the pair of chips from isabel’s hand before glancing back to their aquatically inclined ally. “Any idea on their effective range?” The question was posed just as the car rolled to a stop for a red light. “I hope it’s at least a few miles.” He cracked open the passenger door and tossed the chips down a storm drain. “I’d hate to deprive our friends of a chance to tour the sewer system after all.”

When the car began moving again Simon settled himself back in his seat and turned to Isabel who almost looked asleep for a second with her head against the headrest and both eyes closed before she opened one and glanced at him warily. “My offer still stan-”

"Fix the mess if you want, but leave everything where it's supposed to be,"

Lips twitching upwards only slightly at the quip to his abilities Simon rolled his eyes and placed a hand on the brunettes shoulder. “So little trust” he chided in a tone of false hurt. Not that it was underserved but still… ‘This is hardly the same as the other times,” They were both still sober after all. “Now try and stay still.”

With that parting piece Simon drew in a breath and turned his attention to the crimson covered material beneath his hand, focusing on the differences he felt between the fibers of the shirt and the blood staining it as he teased them apart. It wasn’t hard work, but it was tedious given he couldn’t do the entire shirt at once without having Isabel show off more than her posters did. So instead he let his hand trail over the worst of the stains, slowly lifting them away while doing his best to avoid applying any pressure. After five or possibly ten minutes the brunettes white button up stopped resembling a murder scene and, instead merely looked like a minor casualty of plate of pasta, rather more worn than it had been.

Then there was the matter of her face, the girl looked like she’d been on the losing end of a boxing match and while it looked as though she’d already straightened her nose, the cuts, scrapes and bruises on her skin were still raw. As things went they were relatively simply injuries but his experience at healing others was… rich, as it could be and given the lack of any other trusted healers nearby Simon was more than willing to play it safe.

Asking Isabel to look at him he gently cupped her chin and began working on the cut there; ghosting the edges of wound and carefully piecing them back together like a jigsaw before withdrawing his power and watching as the ethereal skin whispered back into unmarked flesh, though a touch redder than before.

By the time the car came to it’s final stop he’d managed to deal with everything bar the bruises which he’d ultimately decided to leave alone. Burst capillaries were finicky at the best of times and given where they were he wasn’t in a rush to experiment, though he did drain some of the blood to reduce the swelling and colour.

Stepping out of the car and glancing up at the searing neon lights and what they spelled Simon had to resist the urge to introduce his hand to his face. Isabel apparently wasn’t the only one who struggled with the concept of subtle.

”Come along. Let’s get the both of you some peace of mind.”

Following the Poseidon through doors Simon entered Atlantis.

Jorge allowed the duo to handle the news of their tracking devices however they chose. It was common practice for him to provide a stun gun as most people were too freaked out to have the device surgically removed while on the road. It was understandable, yes, but the device needed to be shorted out before they arrived at the Atlantis Club either way. However they wanted to handle it was fine with the man.

As he settled back into his seat, his deep, earthy eyes fell into the rearview mirror where he watched both Duo and Isabel work in tandem. As she pushed the rice-sized tracker from her skin, watched as Duo did the same by turning his body partially incorporeal and pulling his out as if it were a tick. With both trackers in their hands, the wind manipulator proceeded to toss them into a sewer grate just outside the window, sending the trackers, and their owners, off on a merry chase through the sewer systems of New York. Splendid.

With a nod, the man smirked as he glanced to Duke. The driver seemed unsure about the two car mates, but he knew better to question Poseidon, especially in front of others. So they continued on in silence, Jorge checking the rearview mirror every now and again to ensure that both were still doing fine. He didn’t listen in on their conversation, catching only a few words here and there, instead focused only on getting back to the club. Once he caught the familiar glow of his neon signs, the man breathed a small sigh of relief. No matter his day, it was always good to come home.

Jorge stepped out into the warm, evening air, breathed in the scent of the city, and then bade the two others to join him. Stepping back, his hands clasped behind his back, he waited for them to exit and then went Duke off to park the car with a small wave of his hand. Once the car pulled away around a corner, Jorge offered the two out-of-place mutants a kindly, serpent-like smile before he turned and pushed through the heavy wooden doors of his establishment.

Marching down the staircase that lead into a much cooler room before, one would notice the sheer absence of pounding, rhythmic music. Normally the Atlantis Club was always bursting to the seams with partygoers but today it was clearly holding onto a different vibe. Rather it was a silent as a grave and the trio were only accompanied by their sounds of their descending footsteps. Upon touching down, the full and beautiful view of the club was offered: the large dance floor, the tables and chairs situated along wall-length windows that looked out underneath the bay, along with a full bar across the room. The only thing that looked out of place were the tarps that had been set up to catch debris from construction happening on the music stage that was empty of activity.

Jorge moved with purpose across the room, clearly a man who knew his environment inside and out. As he moved ahead, he glanced back at the others and gave them a grin.

”Please, come in, come in, make yourselves at home,” Jorge said as he moved around towards the back of the bar. ”Would anyone care for a drink?” He asked, already finding a bottle and a cleaned glass to pour himself one. ”After your harrowing evening, I would be remiss to not offer and, I assure you, we have the best of everything.”

Whether or not they partook of a drink, it was up to them. He merely slid over what they wanted when asked before he turned back to his own. With a glass of scotch in his hands, Jorge took a sip, sighed in satisfaction, and set it on the counter as he eyed the two of them. He took a moment to scrutinize the two, reading them, studying them, interested in who they were and what they could do. They seemed fine with bloodshed but most people were when survival was at cost.

”I must say, you two make quite the impression,” he started. ”Not often I spy mutants literally trying to claw the face off of one of SUPER’s Adapteds. Kudos to you, young miss.” Another sip. ”That is also a hell of a way to be introduced to our universe. Then again, the government isn’t usually known for rolling out the red carpet. How did you manage to find yourselves here?”

Again with the touching. Why did Zephyr Dio decide he had to be so touchy all of a sudden, and when they were stuck with a pair of strangers? It was tempting to tell him off, but somehow squabbling in their present company didn't seem like the best idea. They still knew next to noting about Poseidon except that he was offering his assistance and his club as a safe space for the time being. It would be better, at least as for as long as she could manage it, to continue letting him think the pair of them got along and worked well together. The last thing she needed was to provide an opportunity for the older man to drive a bigger wedge between them if he saw fit for whatever reason. Being alienated from her best chance at getting back home was less than desirable.

And so she simply heaved a sigh as Zeph Dio quipped back and instructed her to sit still. It was impossible to be completely still in a moving car, but she did her best, trying very hard to ignore his roaming hand as he worked to remove the gore from her shirt for what felt like ages. It was even harder to ignore when he moved on to her face, which required her to turn and look at him while he held her chin. Her attention roamed aimlessly as she struggled to avoid any prolonged eye contact and she refused to let her gaze drift toward the front seat for fear of the kind of looks they might draw from their escorts. Maybe squabbling would be the better option after all.

Still, once the car finally came to a stop and they were invited to step out she did feel much better. Her face was still sore in places but there wasn't any more sharp, raw pain that came with the open cuts. She actually appreciated the gesture, even if it was done in the name of blending in, though she wouldn't be voicing her thanks any time soon. She'd rather not draw any more attention to the ordeal than necessary. Her face was already red enough.

The glaring neon sign at the front of the club seemed about right and Isabel barely gave it more than a passing glance as Poseidon opened the large doors and ushered them down the stairs on the other side. The cooler air inside felt nice, especially on her burning cheeks, but there wasn't much time to appreciate it before the interior of the room they entered captured her full attention. Unlike the sign, the appearance on the inside hadn't lined up with her mental image of the place in the slightest. It was much more upscale and much more expensive looking, even with all of the tarps that had been spread around, and deadly quiet in all its emptiness. It was difficult not to wander off and start poking around. She had to settle for letting her gaze wander instead as they settled at the bar. Exploring would have to wait.

At least the alcohol wasn't off-limits without any patrons around, though she supposed that was just a perk of owning the place. She had dared to hope for a chance to visit the bar once they arrived at least for one drink, and so when offered the opportunity she gladly accepted and requested a shot of tequila for herself. She would stop at one though, just for taking the edge off. It wouldn't be a great idea to lose herself in a bottle in a strange place full of strange people. She'd also seen what drinking on Dio's meds could do, but one shot and one pill could hardly hurt.

Tipping the glass back Isabel's grimace melted into a self-satisfied smirk as the older man lauded her for how she'd handled her encounter with the Adapted. Not her most impressive fight, but apparently just impressive enough. She could deal with that. He'd just have to wait to see what she could do when there wasn't any nullifier around. She could really show him something impressive then.

"Wrong place, wrong time" she answered with a shrug, putting the empty glass down and folding her arms against the top of the bar. "Got caught up in the mess when that Rip thing opened and got tossed through it somehow and wound up here. Dio came to find me and then we ran into those SUPER jerks before we could get back to our side."

In spite of the renovation notice Simon had half expected to be hit a wall of sound the moment he entered the club, different reality or not he was familiar with city night life; with it’s location right on the bay, glaring neon sign and heavy oak doors, Atlantis had the markings of a high rollers club and rave bar.

As he descended into the deserted club after Poseidon and Isabel, he found his suspicions confirmed. Although the place was empty as a grave its acoustics were great enough that their footsteps left echoes sufficient for a group several times their size as they walked past reinforced doors, tarp covered tables and backlit windows that looked beneath the waves of the bay.

Then there was the bar itself, larger than most city apartments it took up at least a quarter of the floor and had the usual array of expensive looking bottles with indecipherable labels. Granted it was a tad odd they’d not been covered or removed given the tarps displayed elsewhere; it suggested that the renovations weren’t quite as extensive as hinted at outside, though considering what little he knew of the owner Simon wouldn’t have been surprised if the construction was just a cover for more illicit activities, especially considering the network of tunnels and floors he could sense beneath them, at least one of which connected directly to the bay.

It was like he’d stepped into some sort of bond-esque villain lair, a notion Poseidon did little to dissuade as he stepped casually behind the darkened bar, producing a trio of glasses almost without looking and offering them seats before asking them to pick their poison while retriving a bottle for himself.

Tempting as it was to see just how expensive extensive the drinks selection was Simon shook his head and politely declined, settling simply for water. His ‘medication’ didn’t play well with alcohol and he wanted a clear head for what was likely going to be some form of negotiation.

Isabel however held no such reservations, happily asking for a shot of tequila and downing it with a happy sigh that turned into a smirk as their impromptu barman complimented her panicked struggle against the adapted, leaving Simon to frown briefly. She may have only had one of his pills but she also hadn’t built up any sort of tolerance to it and the last thing they needed right now was a repeat of the Sanctuary thunderstorm.

Annoyingly he couldn’t afford to say as much given their current audience, while Poseidon had helped them so far Dio was a ways from trusting him with such information, instead he waited until the man busied himself pouring his own drink Dio nudged Isabel’s arm and then glanced meaningfully at her glass when he caught her eye before shaking his head.

”That is also a hell of a way to be introduced to our universe. Then again, the government isn’t usually known for rolling out the red carpet. How did you manage to find yourselves here?”

As the question had clearly been aimed at Isabel Simon took a sip from his own glass and let the brunette talk. Tempting as it was to speak for her and so lead Poseidon to look to him for answers, it would only work if the soubrette stayed silent which was doubtful at the best of times. No, better to let her answer the relatively innocuous question and provide detail or distraction where needed.

“...Got caught up in the mess when that Rip thing opened and got tossed through it somehow and wound up here. Dio came to find me and then we ran into those SUPER jerks before we could get back to our side."


Such as now, at least she’d kept his name straight. “The rift appeared during a small scale lunar festival on our side. Before stabilizing it acted much like a black hole, I’d be rather surprised if Isabel was the only one caught up in it. That said, it calmed down fairly quickly and I had little trouble following her in the confusion left behind.”

“If you don’t mind me asking Poseidon, what are you after? I appreciate your assistance but I doubt it was an act of charity and I dislike being in others debt.” When they were capable of calling it in at least.

There was something about being in his own club that was quite soothing. Jorge always commanded a presence, no matter where he went, but being in his own element was soothing and calming to him. Amongst these familiar surroundings, safe with the knowledge that he was untouchable here, made whatever fears others may have of the outside world simply secondary to him. This was his turf, hard won and solidly his; no one would be able to take that from him.

But while he may feel safe and secure in his world, could the same be said for either Dio or Isabel? The two of them certainly had made quite the first impression, enough to spur on his involvement, but could they continue to deliver? Did they believe in the mutant cause? Or were they idealists? Gently Jorge would broach the subject -- once drinks and introductions were added to the equation. Hence, he asked, how did they end up here? He had an idea but it paid to hear it from the horse’s mouth.

>>“...Got caught up in the mess when that Rip thing opened and got tossed through it somehow and wound up here. Dio came to find me and then we ran into those SUPER jerks before we could get back to our side."

>> “The rift appeared during a small scale lunar festival on our side. Before stabilizing it acted much like a black hole, I’d be rather surprised if Isabel was the only one caught up in it. That said, it calmed down fairly quickly and I had little trouble following her in the confusion left behind.”

Jorge nodded. He was watching them both closely, scrutinizing them now that they were face-to-face and free if any trouble of interruption from SUPER or any other law enforcement. A face could tell a thousand stories, even those that were just beneath the surface. Watching the duo allowed Jorge to see just how valid their stories were, ensuring that they weren’t spies or anything of the like. It helped that the second the two walked into his club, River was probably already running their faces through recognition systems in their world to see there were any conflicts with their stories. His phone silent in his pocket, he was sure that River had found nothing yet.

Taking a sip from his own drink, she smirked as Isabel downed her tequila and respected Dio for his choice in only taking water. There was no offense to be taken for his choice in water as opposed to free alcohol.

”Yes. It certainly seems to be causing quite the stir, the rip, that is.” he commented. ”From reports on this side, the story is remarkably similar. We had a lunar festival on this side that was interrupted by the...event.” There were conflicting reports on what caused it but, of course, fingers were swiftly pointing towards mutants.

It was needless to say that the two intrigued him. They clearly had no love for SUPER or what it stood for. Any other mutant would have probably cringed and given up, especially when access to their abilities was taken away. These two, however, showed a remarkable will to fight back, something that the crime boss couldn’t help but respect. But how to inquire as to their allegiances...that was the question...

>>“If you don’t mind me asking Poseidon, what are you after? I appreciate your assistance but I doubt it was an act of charity and I dislike being in others debt.”

Jorge smirked, staring down at his glass. ”Ouch. My heart certainly aches at the accusation, Mr. Dio…” Jorge said, taking a sip from his drink. He lifted his gaze again, smirking as he eyed them both. ”...but once again you prove to be quite astute. Now, please don’t misunderstand, I hold no one in debt -- unless, of course, I have lent them money.” A grin. ”But helping mutants is both a passion and...my business.” He sighed, another sip of his drink following. ”SUPER has become an oppressive force, leaving our kind a little lacking. So...I step in where I can. It was a pleasure to offer you both an escape.” A beat. ”Now, once the heat dies down, you two are more than free to skedaddle back through the rift and head home. Neither myself nor my associates will stop you.” He leaned against the bar, watching the pair of them. ”But, I must say, as a collector of certain talents. And I see two very talented individuals before me. So...” he downed the last of his drink. ”Before I continue, you must indulge an old man’s inquiring mind.” A sly smile. ”What is your idea of a perfect world?”