Tyranny climbed down the later in her typical black out fit except for the glaringly pink hello kitty rain boots an bright pink surgeons mask. She was going hunting and her prey today picked a more than convenient home to live in, the sewers, they stank like hell, but she could leave the bodies where they fell. or heck kick them a foot or two and they would end up in the down current pull of the underbelly of new york.

She felt like humming the theme to the ninja turtles, one of the few instances where mutation was acceptable, of course those memories stemmed from a time that her parents were still alive and Saturday morning cartoons were the highlight of the day.

She held here pair of fire arms at the ready in a very Laura croft sort of way, exstensions of her self ready to strike out like vipers. they never got the stench that laura croft would have had to face in all those tombs, but she could relate to her right now. of course the treasure she was hunting was a foreign gene that need eradicating. She heard a pebble or two tap on the ground and skitter across into the water, she tensed and got ready would her powers intervene again? or would the guns have to do the trick?

She moved quietly forward and then finally got to the edge of a dim light and loked at the huddled vagabounds of several ages, their hideous mutations peeking threw every opening that clothe didn't cover she was about to pounce on them when she saw, really saw the children, they looked human. but they surely carried the gene. she lowered her guns and for the first time sense that wicked day she felt pity for them. she holstered one gun and began to back away. cautiously. she didn't slaughter families. Human or mutant she wouldn't inflict the ever numb presence on anyone, she had some self exploring to do. how did she decide who to hunt? good or bad? weak or strong? Violent or not? Criminal...that's who she would hunt, the worst things these people probably did was some theft and that was necessary to survival.

She backed her way all the way to the ladder and sprinted up rug after rung and pushed hard on the heavy metal disk. allowing her to make it to the 'fresh' air of new york. She was breathing heavily and felt like she was going to have a break down. she sprung up out of the hole and pushed the circle back sealing the opening. she dashed a few feet away and leaned up against a brick wall in an alleyway.

She felt nauseated and alien, she wanted them dead, all of them. but how was she supposed to kill them if they were going to go and live normally and be forced to raise their families under ground in such a hideous stench...they weren't murderers, those people down below were the victims of a terrible world.... How was she supposed to vanquish a foe with no back bone and no bite... she was at the most conflicted she had ever been.

She needed to talk to someone about this, bu who and how? She had no one to trust. no where to turn to, like her roommates would believe her even if she told them. this was a stalemate. She grabbed her black back pack from the alley way and took off her holster and tossed her weapons of choice in the bag.

The usually dank and dense atmosphere of New York seemed free and clear. It had to be the freedom. Roland was once again his own man, both the CEO and the employee. Everyone was in agreement. He had begun the moving process from his manor near the Mansion, the more valuable objects remaining inside the vault while the rest of the stately home was being toured by upper class prospective buyers. Originally, he had wanted to burn it to the ground, relieving himself of its traces. Some thought and the gap between paychecks convinced him to sell it at a profit, a large one at that considering how he acquired the house in the first place.

Now he was back into training. There was no doubt that Princess Meow Meow would be stalking these rooftops before long, as well as Herr Vector. It was integral to his survival that be prepared for such an encounter. Running from roof to roof, clearing jumps, rolling as he landed. He also made sure that he could line up with twin Glocks on any given target. A quick draw would be another vital component. New employers would demand new skills.

His suit was on beneath his jumpsuit as he worked to get used to its layers and the small amount of tech inside. Not having Mondragon behind him hurt a little but not much considering the little tyrant's policies. He wished him well in his endeavors, as flawed as they may have been. The cross visor of the mask hung behind his head under the collar of the jumpsuit, ready to appear and seal should trouble brew. The laps over buildings and obstacles continued until he had a fine dew of sweat working. It was time for a break.

Several vaults and drops later, he found himself on the second story of a fire escape. The cool wind of the night was making its way across the city, pushing some of the stink out to sea. Roland found himself eternally amused at the sight of a young girl, armed and apparently capable, due to the way the weapons were held and holstered. She slid the cover back over the sewer and put her guns away into a small bag. After that, she seemed to be having some sort of breakdown. Girls and their moods. The guns were pretty though. Roland wanted to examine them. The bag sat before him.

Rummaging through it , he found a small medkit, hand sanitizer, an overcoat and the pistols. They were lovely indeed. "These guns are lovely. Where did you get them?" He suspected a voice from above concerning her valuables would cause a shock. That was alright. At present, he had no reason to do anything but be cordial."Do you mind if I use the hand sanitizer? Nothing like the grease from skin to mar the plating on these lovely pistols."

~~"These guns are lovely. Where did you get them?"

She reached for her guns in her holster which was obviously not there, but it was habit. Her eyes darted down to her…missing bag. Damn. They sent a mutant after her and one that was dangerous. “My dresser.” She answered quietly and coldly. She had gotten them from a police officer online that didn’t bother with any of the paperwork, she then filed any of the tell, tell numerals off of several spots and then hand sanded them to smooth surfaces.

~~"Do you mind if I use the hand sanitizer? Nothing like the grease from skin to mar the plating on these lovely pistols."

“Please do.” where was he? She spoke as she sprinted across the alley way to the opposite side, to provide a little cover. She hadn’t brought her boot knife, so cutting him was out, sooooo hand to hand vs. her own two gun’s plus his mutation of taking…. She hopped up onto a crate then to a window sill and then to a fire escape ladder and moved up as fast as she could. It was stupid, but wasn’t she invincible? She made her way up intending on getting to the top level where he was and came face to face with the man. She was momentarily shocked. Knuckles and boots vs. at least two guns…great. hmmm, Feminine wiles vs at least two guns anyone?

She pouted her lip out and tried to not white knuckle her fists too badly. “So what brings you to my neighborhood?” she asked looking up through her eyelashes. She resisted throwing the first punch at him and tackling him and fighting for the guns, no fast moves just yet.

Where she got her pistols brought a sour grin to Roland's face. The shock he had counted on had set in just as he had wanted it to. It felt good to be the master of his destiny again. No-kill clauses were dead. When it came to the question of the hand sanitizer, he brightened as she began to show a slim amount of civility. That was good. Everyone always wanted to attack first and ask questions later. Hopefully, this girl would break the mold of previous contenders.

Next came a most interesting sequence of events. Roland heard her run from her previous spot to the area beneath him. So full of action, the young warrior princess was. He assumed from the sounds she was making down there that she was making her way up to his location. Was it really about the guns? He just wanted to look at them. Some people were protective of their things. Probably grew up in a large family where no possessions belonged to them. Nonetheless, he thought to put the items back into the bag. The guns went too, after their bullets left the clips as did the extra in each chamber. No reason to be sloppy, whatever her intentions.

By the time she arrived up the ladder, she was wielding a piece of wood and had a strange expression on her face. Roland had placed the now empty guns on top of the bag and was standing across from her, his own silenced pistol in hand."So what brings you to my neighborhood?" Ah, a territorial dispute. That made more sense. Looking at her and then down at the bag between them, Roland answered, his gun trained on her toned abs." I suppose I just needed a breather from training. I didn't see your name anywhere. You should put up a sign on the roof declaring your sovereignty. It would help travelers like myself. As for your guns, I only wished to examine them. You will find them there, on top of your belongings. Now why don't you drop the wood and talk to me like a civilized person?"

She appraised the man infront of her, not bad looking a bit older then she usually went, for but not by much from the looks of him, fit, smart…oh but wait he was either a muant or a magician, and she didn’t believe in magic. And this mutant was dangerous no kids hanging onto him. Hmm. He just might be her business for the night. That made her feel a little better.

“ a little R&R is good for everybody. Ah, well, if you had asked first, to take a glance at my goods, I might not have minded. And I don’t put up signs, be cause well it would be a hassle to keep the maitenece up.” She was simply using the friendly phrase but this one was a bit…snippy, so she wouldn’t bother pointing it out. He took her stuff and called her uncivil, well now. She wasn’t afraid of the gun, after all if powers didn’t work on her why would a bullet, right? Right. She tossed the board off into the alley way. And knelt to dig through her bag. She lifted one gun without so much of a glance at the man with the silenced pistol.

“my guns weren’t on a diet a minute ago, and now you have them doing this model act, pretty on the outside, but starving.” She shrugged and tossed the pair of them into the bag and throw it over her shoulder. “Did you get the sanitizer dear?” she said as she stood and sat on the rail.

“oh, my name by the way is Tyranny.” She raised here eyebrows, “ So, I suppose you can imagine my name is already all over this little city of ours. And you are?” what was she going to do without those clips…oh yeah use the extras she brought in her pockets when she came to slaughter a huge den of mutants.

She seemed to have the sense of humor that the harder version of mercenary carried. It was a subtle sign between birds of a feather. Amateurs threw threats and had twitchy eyes and stances. Professionals made jokes and acted normally, though there was always an air of readiness should someone decide to get froggy and jump. The girl was on the road to respect due to this behavior. However, she still seemed to be a hyperactive person. He watched as the board left her hands and sailed down into the alley below. Another good sign.

“My guns weren’t on a diet a minute ago, and now you have them doing this model act, pretty on the outside, but starving." Roland let the gun he was holding return to its spot inside his suit, showing his own kindness of sorts."I don't believe it was such an extreme measure, considering how eager you were to visit. Not to mention the wood you were wielding, which I thank you for discarding." Mostly because he could do nothing about wood, except dodge it or block it like any normal person could. He was sure she held her own secrets as well.

“Did you get the sanitizer dear?” All the excitement had made the small bottle of liquid cleanliness completely slip his mind." So I did. My apologies." Intending to send the small plastic bottle and its contents to the young lady's hands, Roland was surprised to see it appear and drop on the ground about a yard short of her. He maintained the poker face, yet was intrigued at what had just occurred. Was there some sort of protective barrier around her body? Would his bullets pass through it? He would hate to have to test the theory, considering her spunky charm.

“Oh, my name by the way is Tyranny. So, I suppose you can imagine my name is already all over this little city of ours. And you are?” Perhaps he had spoken to soon. This name claim business and touting one's own reputation was sheer cowboy. Professionals never talked about things they did in the past. It could leave a detail for tracing later. It was hard to tell with her. Perhaps all of it was an act. What had occurred with the sanitizer was quite real though." My name? It really isn't important, as I doubt we will see each other again. If you like names, call me Vagabond."

~~“I don't believe it was such an extreme measure, considering how eager you were to visit. Not to mention the wood you were wielding, which I thank you for discarding.”

She nodded to him, “I might have went for it, if you were the type to hold your gun sideways, and had no obvious experience of how to use piece right. But a board versus some one trained with their weapon carries, crappy odds. Thanks for not shooting, me bullet wounds suck.” The last was a big fat bluff. but it might be necessary to have him believe this was all common.” She assumed he wasn’t the offensive mutant type she had thought he was, If he was carrying guns, he was filling the same void she was.

~~“So I did. My apologies."

“…there it is, no problem.” There it was her own little wall of magic, keeping all foreign magics away from her.

“My name? It really isn't important, as I doubt we will see each other again. If you like names, call me Vagabond."

“ah, Vagabond, You look more like a James though.…” Vagabond, James Vagabond “Vagabond will work for now, though. It’s a small world, so you never who you’ll see.” She hopped down to get the sanitizer and then pulled a pair of clips from her pocket and re loaded her guns, passively, they faced down and then went directly in her bag. But she felt better for having them loaded. She put the back pack on her back and sighed. “so, if running roofs is a break from training, what then is training like?”

The young and perky mercenary explained to him why he had been so fortunate to be trained well. It was another lesson to learn. With the field around her, she would be sure to learn quickly. She then thanked him for not shooting her. Roland nodded in a polite fashion to be cordial, though the jury was till out on whether or not she would get shot. Roland suspected that the specific details of this field needed to be gauged. Someone so potent could easily be used against him in the future and he, as always, demanded total preparedness.

Next came a quip. Roland had a look of pleased approval . Not for the strength of said quip, but more that one had come without coaxing. These were the pleasantries that made mercenary work fun. He imagined it was similar to things spoken among many others like him in the past. Samurai, ninja, gunslingers, fencers. Those who knew their trade and executed it well enough to allow for social pleasantries. It was so much more appealing to him than Die! or some other expletive followed by gunfire. That sort of thing only called for a quick and brutal ending.

" I've never heard of that one, believe it or not. Cheers." He found his own spot to sit, making himself as comfortable as his suit beneath the jumpsuit would allow. An air conditioning unit, no longer in operation, settled nicely. She asked him what his training consisted of. He wanted to be vague, yet offer some pearls of wisdom. He felt as the older tradesman, it was his duty to pass on knowledge to the next generation. Although, depending on her questions and movements, it could be a short generation, at that.

" Every job is training, isn't it? Exotic locales, interesting people to meet and kill. Mental focus walks hand in hand with physical training, especially among those of us with special abilities. It both increases our pay and our danger. We attract our own kind, as has occurred now.Now, a question or two of my own, if you don't mind." His hands were folded neatly in his lap, as if that made them any less deadly. It usually kept others in a passive mode." First, are you working now? If so, is that why you came out of the sewer? Or is that your personal playground? Also, have you been working long?" The girl liked talking. Maybe she could tell Roland some items of use.

~~" Every job is training, isn't it? Exotic locales, interesting people to meet and kill. Mental focus walks hand in hand with physical training, especially among those of us with special abilities. It both increases our pay and our danger. We attract our own kind, as has occurred now. Now, a question or two of my own, if you don't mind."

She nodded to his first question easily. That was a pretty universal teaching ground, the good ole on the job. “Special abilities, of course she knew that was how he got the bag but for some reason she didn’t want to admit it to herself. He looked a lot like exactly what she had wanted to hunt a competent and dangerous mutant. Deadly, criminal. Or she could try and find some training, he certainly exuded a hard boiled and dangerous aura about him, his clam and collect movements were precise.

“By all means, it’s only fair after all.”


~~“First, are you working now? If so, is that why you came out of the sewer? Or is that your personal playground? Also, have you been working long?"

“Nope Vagabond, I am not working at the moment and that is where my guns happened to take me. I haven’t done any professional work, more personal accomplishments then anything, vendettas and what not. Settling personal scores and what not. Plus a lot of time getting prepared to take on the tasks and succeed at them. Mercenary work seems like a natural step. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to get some paid opportunities. Are you with an organization or are you freelance? I don’t suppose you’d be interested in helping a girl get her foot in the door?” Perhaps if his employers were like him, then she could start toppling criminal mutant corruption at the top of organizations. That could be validating at the end of the day. The avoided massacre below was merciful and unneeded. She felt like she was out of line in the sewers. She really, really needed to get decided on where she stood.

He was easy to talk to, for someone that had taken her bullets and had a gun pointed at her not too long ago.

Listening to Tyranny speak, Roland realized that she had not been a merc before. This was all well and good, as it wasn't something that you went to a four year college to train for. There certainly weren't want ads in newspapers. Usually it all came with word of mouth and reputation. Reputation was key if you were going to pull enough money down to live outside the life. At the moment, she was just a well trained person with an interesting advantage in the way of this field around her.

He enjoyed the comment of the sewer being where her gyuns had taken her. Roland imagined that his own guns had taken him all over the world, though he preferred the idea that it was his skills with them and many other areas of expertise which made him so wanted. Wanted with employers and wanted with Interpol were still wanted. Her final question was an interesting one. So interesting that it made Roland rise from his previously seated position. Could he get her foot in the door of an organization? He could indeed.

" I am freelance. I was working for an organization recently and left on good terms. Or, as good of terms as one could suspect with our line of work. Nonetheless, I would be more than happy to give you the details. Seek out Mondragon Labs and a young boy named Slate. I am sure he will have many things for you to do. I'd suggest you didn't use my name. It's always best to start with a clean slate." Besides, if she was a wreck or a psychopath, it would be more icing to the cake that Roland could hand feed to the little tyrant.

~~" I am freelance. I was working for an organization recently and left on good terms. Or, as good of terms as one could suspect with our line of work. Nonetheless, I would be more than happy to give you the details. Seek out Mondragon Labs and a young boy named Slate. I am sure he will have many things for you to do. I'd suggest you didn't use my name. It's always best to start with a clean slate."

“Hmmm, a young boy named Slate. Odd how the world works these days. I‘ve heard the name Mondragon before… they do charity work around here sometimes. Interesting.” She then smirked as her mind caught something. “You left on good terms, but I shouldn’t mention your name. Again interesting. Thanks for the direction though. I believe I just might take you up on that. I’ll keep an ear out for anybody else connected with the place and see if I can’t get an invite from them. Mums the word.” She winked.

She rose to her feet as well, “ I was going to go get some coffee, if you are done jumping roof tops, your welcome to come.” If he turned her down, she’d have to give him her number. She wouldn’t mind seeing the man in action maybe see if they couldn’t do a duet. She could tell he would be one to watch, he certainly acted like he had the expertise. What she didn’t want to do was sit here and wait around to see if those filthy sewer rats down below might try to call the police. Under the pretense she was the one that wasn’t welcome.

Roland found the thought of Slate as a philanthropist amusing. Regardless of the boy's outward actions, he could not get past the idea of something sinister lurking behind the stone expression of the lad.Tyranny seemed to take all of the requests in without too much thought. Her promise of secrecy was hoped to be sincere. If not, it didn't really matter. the discretion was more for her sake as opposed to his. Slate's opinion of him ranked pretty low currently.

“ I was going to go get some coffee, if you are done jumping roof tops, your welcome to come.” For someone who had been so skittish previously, she surely had the capacity for civility. While Roland initially entertained the idea, the timing wasn't the greatest."I'm afraid I will have to take a rain check. Our current arsenals would be a bit of a hindrance in a coffee shop, I imagine. I would like to see you again, however." A metallic rectangle, stamped with one of Roland's many phone numbers delivered itself to his hand. Rather than have it end up on the ground outside her seemingly impervious barrier, he stepped close enough to her to simply hand it to her. " If Mondragon doesn't work out, feel free to contact me and I will surely find you some profitable ventures."

He hoped she would take him up on it. Now that he was free of others' agendas, his own could begin. He would need soldiers and operatives for his plans to grow and prosper. A mercenary with ehr apparent talents would be an excellent start.

~~I'm afraid I will have to take a rain check. Our current arsenals would be a bit of a hindrance in a coffee shop, I imagine. I would like to see you again, however."

“I have my back pack and you can do that outta of thin air thing if trouble rose. Oh. Well a rain check it is. Maybe dinner instead of coffee, the price of making a girl wait has interest I’m afraid.” She winked

~~" If Mondragon doesn't work out, feel free to contact me and I will surely find you some profitable ventures."


“Maybe I could do a bit of side work? With the cleanest vagabond, I know.” She smiled stuck the card between her teeth and then swung herself over the side. Hooking a foot on the sliding ladder and riding it down until it caught at the end of its length. From there she walked gracefully down the alleyway and cut to the right. What an od night. Now she was on her way to not just killing mutants…but working with them…at least until they trusted her. and then from there well. Bang bang. She raised a hand an waved behind he before she turned the corner.