Meld didn't feel the tiny little dart strike her. She was intent upon her target, intent upon her revenge for being struck by the beam on energy and intent upon destroying her enemies. One moment her focus was that of the perfect warrior, focused and completely devoid of all emotion and the next moment something was deeply wrong.

It seemed to come over her gradually, over the course of several minutes but perhaps that was time playing tricks on her. She wasn't sure when it started or what had triggered it but she felt her focus waver from her human target and no amount of will would return it there. That in itself would have been enough to send Meld's mind into a panicked spiral; in the heat of battle she never lost her focus, but the problem went far beyond a mere laps in attention.

Meld's claws twitched, seeking some sort of release and her body began to itch and burn as energy began coursing through it. Something was wrong, very wrong. She shouldn't be burning, she should feel anything. It felt as if a horrible pressure were building up inside her, desperately seeking some sort of release. Her mind fogged as her attention turned inward upon the building pressure and burning along her skin.

Meld moaned, scratching at her flesh and blood arm and causing rivulets of blood to flow down it. She staggered away from the many smaller conflicts going on around her, uncharacteristically turning her back on friend and foe alike. In a distant part of her mind she remained aware of that which was going on around her but she was powerless to act upon that awareness. The burning was getting painful, unbearable and she screamed in a vain attempt to relieve the pressure. She continued scratching at her arm, leaving large bleeding fissures upon it. She staggered again, her bloody torn arm colliding with a metal street sign. The broken flesh merged with the metal in the sign and she tried to wrench her hand away from the sign but instead it was pulled violently from the ground and she distantly noticed it had become attached to her in a horrible parody of the beauty and perfection of her flesh melds, forming an extra limb attached, part way up, to her arm.

It wasn't enough, though, and her body continued to burn and the burning was only getting worse. She scratched at her waist, feeling nothing but the horrible burning. The burning was everything, encompassing her entire mind, her entire being. The battle continued around her, she knew in some distant corner of her mind that it did, but she could concentrate on nothing but the burning, the horrible horrible burning. She had to stop it, she had to stop the burning. Distantly she registered that she had come to a Bobcat, a small construction vehicle with an arm and digging mechanism in the front of it. She didn't know what she was doing, except that she had to make the burning stop. She screamed again as blood ran in rivers down her legs from her waist.

Meld jumped atop the vehicle and ripping at the roof with her claws, creating a roughly human sized gaping hole. Maybe if she hid in there, maybe the burning would stop, maybe she would find some sort of relief, blessed relief. She jumped into the torn whole she had created and instead of the burning leaving her, her torn waist bonded to the torn sides of the hole in the top of the machine. Her consciousness extended, in that instant, so that she was aware of her wheels and her digging arm. Her legs remained free and mobile below her, but her waist was now bonded to the metal of the construction vehicle. But the burning continued, unbearable and all consuming.

Aura barely missed being hit by a flying chunk of metal, but sothing was intresting her more then the caos which was taking place. KP looked like a storm hit it and the caos was getting to be wild. Then she saw Meld and she looked like she was an agony. Aura breifly considerd the man who shot her might be the cause, but whatever the reason she had to form up with Meld, to help her. She had lost track of who was winning, she no longer saw Giants bane, police were everywhare and the dance raged on. "Meld, ehat's wrong?" she asked clearly concearned, keeping her stance defencive.

They She watched Meld rip the sign out of the ground and smiled, the womans power just grew in it's beauity every time a peace of fleash vanished. Meld seemed to be wounding herself to increase what she was melding with, still the rough style did not seem like her. And Aura kept careful gaze around them incase someone tried to hurt her while she went to achieve whatever it was.Then meld bonded with a cool looking construction truck. She seemed so unfocussed in the fight, she could understand this if she was being chased but not now.

"Meld, whats your plan? The dance won't give us all day" she asked completely unaware of her freinds trouble in controlling her powers. She had no idea Meld posessed such power though, it made her wonder why she had not done this earlior. They needed to find Meld a tank, then she could truely shine. Aura looked back meld was not answering her, and red fissures coverd her body somthing was wrong. Meld had put on several tons in a matter of minutes. "Is their somthing wrong, my freind?" she asked a she continued on.

Predator knew something was wrong the moment meld broke away from the fighting. He didn't know what exactly was going on, but an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that there was something fishy going on. It was completely uncharacteristic for Meld to flee a fight, and that's what it looked like she was doing. Not only that, but she was mutilating herself as she went. What was that girl doing? Predator disengaged himself from the fight with a parting swipe and roar, and trotted over to stand next to Aura, who he now noticed was going after Meld as well. Meld tore up her waist, and then somehow combined herself with a construction vehicle. Predator had always wondered what exactly her mutation was, and now he knew.

"Meld, what's wrong? Meld, whats your plan? The dance won't give us all day. Is there something wrong, my freind?"

It confused Predator why should do something so haphazardly, and the fact that she was not responding to Aura only served to deepen his suspicions. Predator suspected that Meld had lost control of her body. He knew that there were some Mutants who had the ability to control others, and he thought that maybe that is what had happened to Meld. It was the only explanation he could think of. As such, he didn't know what Meld was going to do next, so he positioned himself between Meld and Aura. He didn't know exactly how strong Aura's aura was, so it was best to be on the safe side and assume she wouldn't hold up if she got ran over. He growled a warning to Meld, a deep, rumbling sound.

In some distant corner of her mind Meld was aware of her friend Aura talking to her, asking what her plan one. In a very small corner of her consciousness she registered her friend's asking if she was all right and she knew, intrinsically, that she was not all right. She was very very far from all right and she wanted nothing more than to be able to speak and tell her friend just that. She wanted nothing more than to be able to tell them about the horrible burning and get them to make it stop. Surely they could do something for her? Perhaps if they doused her in cold water that would help make the burning stop, that would give her some relief. She tried to open her mouth to suggest as much, to explain her predicament, but found that she couldn't. She couldn't' speak at all and it was with growing panic that she realized she couldn't do much of anything. Her mind told told her arm to move and her arm would not obey. Her mind told her new wheels to move and her wheels would not obey either. Terror rose within her.

The tiny voice in the back of Meld's head continued to scream at her as her wheels began to move on their own accord without her consciously demanding that they do so. And then the voice in her head, her only link to her own sense of self and her own sanity, was joined by a chorus of other voices. None of these voices agreed with one another, one telling her to that she must hurt herself and meld with more objects, another telling her that she must succumb to the urge to kill, a third telling her to flee that if she stayed she would surely die. And overriding all of the many voices now filling her head was the infernal burning, driving her to distraction. She clung desperately to the one voice she knew to be hers (at least she thought she knew it to be hers, how could she be sure of anything anymore?) The voice that she thought was hers was screaming silently within her head for the others to leave, to run away because she knew, somehow, that she was dangerous now and that if they didn't leave she would hurt them and she didn't want to hurt them. Aura and Predator were her friends, perhaps the only friends she really had anymore and she didn't want to hurt them.

Meld began moving forward, slowly at first and then quicker as she got used to the feeling of having wheels beneath her instead of feet. The shovel at the front of the bobcat she had melded with moved up and down experimentally, still without her conscious direction. One of the voices (not hers surely?) screamed that she must have blood, that only blood would make the burning stop. It wasn't water that she needed to douse her body it, it was warm wet blood. The blood of her enemies, the blood of her friends, just blood it didn't matter from where. She screamed, involuntary, feral and with more than a touch of madness. Her vision turned red and the one voice she thought was hers prayed her friends realized what was happening and were able to forgive her. It wasn't her fault, surely it wasn't her fault? She didn't want to hurt them, she didn't' want them to suffer at her hands. And yet she did, or at least one of the voices did. Or perhaps many of the voices? They were a chorus in her mind, each competing for her attention and it was getting harder and harder to tell them apart from one another. Which one was her again? Was it the one demanding that she defend herself from her enemies? The one telling her that they were all her enemies? Or perhaps the one that told her that nothing mattered so much as the experience of melding with as many objects as possible. She could be invincible, it told her, if only she desired it.

And through all the voices that vied for her attention she was aware, in a detached horrible sense, that she was approaching friend and enemy alike and that when she finally reached them, in but a few short minutes, surely (but what was time anyway a voice asked her, what did it matter?) their blood would flow whether she desired it or not. Because her desires did not matter at all it was only the desires of the voices that mattered. Or perhaps she was the voices and simply didn't realize it and the voices each spoke of her many desires. One forlorn and desperate voice hoped her friends would save themselves while a chorus of others screamed for blood and death of all she encountered.

((OOC: Continued from Force.))

Still sprawled out somewhat uncomfortably upon the concrete stairs of the KP building Hull’s deranged mind was, as usual, split between a variety of disconnected topics ranging from the practicality of a soda bottle as a makeshift silencer for a rifle, to the current economic pressures influencing the culture of Somalia... and somewhere within the mangled weaved of ratiocination a mental checklist was currently being compiled as the Canadian killers survival instincts came into play; swiftly taking stock of the latest accumulation of injuries sustained from the white haired woman’s ill conceived shooting spree. In some respects the twisted anarchist counted himself fortunate that his little dove was clearly inept when it came to inflicting violence upon others for had she wanted to Hull’s skull would have made a most convenient target, things being what they were though the slender sylph had only managed to score two hits, and of those only one had achieved any real damage. The slug in question currently lodged in the macabre wanderers shoulder, nestled somewhere between bone and muscle the minute piece of metal made moving his left arm a rather painful chore and thus it had simply been left where sinister wanderer had last placed it… down the brunettes generous cleavage.

‘Odd, I’d taken for an A but she clearly rates a C’ The thought sailed idly through the killers mind as he tested the injured arms range of movement as well as the dexterity of his fingers; being confined as they were between the faux maids ample assets it was somewhat inevitable that the bombers flexing digits came to grasp with things as some might say. Sadly however before any in depth “testing” could take place the anarchists various trains of thought were rather rudely interrupted.

“Bastard!”[/color]

No doubt triggered by the malicious travelers untimely molestation the stripped brunette violently reached one of her own limbs upwards to forcefully remove Hull’s questing hand from her bust. As this was occurring the hazel haired girl’s other arm over the sadistic slaughters mockingly innocent face and a series of needle point claws abruptly extended from the pseudo waitresses fingers and swiftly swept downwards with the intent of mauling the malevolent marauder. As luck would have it though Hull’s right arm was unencumbered and thus it took only the barest of moments for the deranged Canadians free hand to curl instinctively as argent fingers glowed faintly and summoned a metallic canister with dimensions similar to that of a fire extinguisher. The aforementioned container however possessed not C02 but rather a generous supply of thallium which Hull had acquired upstairs.

Such a move was, admittedly something of a gamble, for should the decorticated females claws happen to pierce the canisters casing then they would both be sprayed with an ample dosage of the deadly toxin. Fortuitously for both mutants however the container had been crafted with durability in mind and the bonemancers nails failed to find any purchase on the metallic surface and simply slipped off to the side, leaving behind only the faintest scratch in the otherwise immaculate metal.

Upon finally removing Hull’s hand from between her ivory breasts the faux maid abruptly swiftly gave up her attempts to maim the perverted traveler beneath her in favor of regaining her own two feet and placing as much distance between as was possible within the limited area of the stairwell. As his eyesight was somewhat limited by the toxic container in front of his face the first the sadistic anarchist became aware of the brunettes reactions was when her weight was abruptly lifted from his body and he lowered the metallic cylinder to see what had occurred;
The moment the wanderers viridian eyes caught site of disrobed girl though their gaze immediately traveled southward; following the trail of bare flesh from the torso, down to the hips and then the junction of the thighs, which was utterly glabrous, just as a sheet of white rose up seemingly through the skin and blocked the travelers view.

‘Worst preview ever. If she asks for a credit card I will not be held responsible for my actions… not that I ever am but that’s beside the point! Such teasing is unacceptable unless its use leads to a more profitable…’

Blinking briefly Hull allowed his gaze to lose focus slightly and withdraw from the apex of the girl’s thighs in order to take in overall picture she presented; now bare from top to toe the brunettes pale ivory skin possessed only the slightest tint of pink and was concealed from view in only two places. The first was her bust which was ensconced by a thin strip of bone which wrapped around the center of the two mounds and appeared to be an extension of the ribs. However the breast plate seemed to have constricted somewhat; becoming narrower than it was originally so that the swell of the breasts was visible both above and below while also granting her an even greater expanse of cleavage. The second piece of unnatural attire was situated in the girl’s pelvic region and really was nothing more than a thong for it surfacing as a single layer just above the pubic bone and traveled down between the bonemancer thighs, becoming increasingly narrower as it traveled out of sight lest it hinder her range of motion.

The completed picture was actually rather striking, for at first glance the brunettes osseous lingerie blended seamlessly with her ivory skin, making it appear as though the pseudo maid was truly exposed. A more thorough examination of course would reveal that the girl’s essential areas were in fact concealed, if only barely. However in regards to the malicious machination rapidly racing through Hull’s twisted mindscape the initial impression was all that mattered and in less time than it took to blink the sinister traveler had vanished the toxic canister in his right hand and immediately replaced it with a somewhat bulky disposable digital camera. Activating the electronic imaging device took nothing more than the push of a button and utilizing the digital film was just as easy, thus the malevolent marauder was able to create a myriad of images which captured the disrobed and somewhat flushed bonemancer with her legs slightly more than shoulder width apart and arms by her sides as her chest heaved with each prolonged breath.

“Could you turn-“

The former soldiers words were immediately drowned as the equivalent of a howling hurricane surged into being within the already warped and decimated stairwell. ‘No…’The entire structure seemed to tremble and shift as the violent winds combined with unnatural magnetic forces above and Hull swiftly twisted his neck to glare down at the alabaster sylph, hardly noting her lack of skirt as he caught site of the fearful yet focused expression on her features as the winds rapidly increased in intensity. ‘No no no.’

“Fuck!’ The explicit curse left the wounded murderers lips as he cast out his injured arm and grasped hold of a nearby railing to prevent himself from soaring upwards for the second time in so many seconds. Even with such desperate measure however Hull found his body swiftly removed from the quivering stairs and was momentarily left fluttering like a desolate kite as his damaged arm gradually lost its grip upon the warped railing. Unwilling to go quietly however Canadian bomber resolved to leave one last parting gesture, thus the silver fingers of his right hand clutched tightly to camera in its grasp and, faster than the human eye could follow, the disposable device had been replaced with a sleek obsidian Glock 22which the former soldier had acquired from one NYPD’s finest a few short days ago.

Barely taking the time to aim the malicious murderer allowed his ingrained muscle memory to take control, instinctively swinging up and around to face the aggravating aeromancer just before his forefinger rapidly depressed the trigger causing a cacophony ear piercing gunshots to once more echo within the metallic confines of the stairwell. Irritatingly however the alabaster sylph failed to immediately keel over as the array of bullets somehow managed to avoid her slender wraiths form and merely ricocheted against the walls, prompting another string of curses from the sadistic slaughter as his grip abruptly gave way and the unnatural winds propelled him across the stairwells, into the bikini sporting brunette and out one of the oversized windows which overlooked the entrance to the building.

The sensation of freefall did not last long, they had only been on the third floor or so of the building and thus only had maybe thirty feet between themselves and the earth, under normal circumstances such a distance would have been sufficient for the two airborne mutants to reach their terminal velocity and thus cause a fatal collision with the ground below. In this world however normality rarely has a place; the same alien winds which had expelled the dissolute duo from the stairwell surrounded them during their descent, granting a slight updraft which slowed the fall and brought it to none lethal speeds… at least until they were approximately 10ft from the earth; at which point the surging currents abruptly dissipated and the pair were brought back under gravities sovereignty and crashed, not into the earth as Hull would have originally assumed, but instead atop the comatose form a rather large individual.

Not one to argue with such a beneficial situation the former soldier blinked and wearily attempted to recall precisely what was occurring, oddly however his typically immaculate memory failed to provide him with the desired information and so the disoriented wanderer was left at something of a loss as he hesitantly placed his hands beneath him pushed himself upwards into a sitting position. This action was paused almost immediately however as the deranged travelers fingers found purchase on soft yielding flesh which immediately caused viridian eyes to glance down at the stunned, and utterly naked, female figure beneath him.

‘Well this is different.’

Feeling absolutely no sense of malapropos the confused traveler made no motion to remove either of his hands from atop the unknown woman’s capacious breasts as he slowly resumed his previously activity and pushed himself upwards until he was straddling the brunettes thighs and granted an unimpaired view of her exposed form. The moment he lifted his hands from her ample assets however an abrupt wave of vertigo struck the malevolent traveler and he immediately lost his balance and slid off the nubile young woman beneath him and onto the somewhat bloody floor surrounding the comatose giant.

--

“Did I just see that?”[/color]

“Yes, yes you did.”[/color]

“Please tell me you caught it on camera?”[/color]

“Heh, I’m still recording.[/color]

Inside a partially renovated building situated across the street from King Pharmaceutical a city news crews had taken up temporary residence on one of the higher levels in order to obtain footage of the mutant brawl taking place inside the medical companies grounds. Many of the crews peers had fled when the inebriated juggernaut had started catapulting cadavers at helicopters, however being as they were reasonably sheltered within the moderately restored building the male reporting team had elected to remain where they were and continue recording the action in hopes of receiving achieving a bonus by the end of the night. Imagine their surprise then when, shortly after the first body had fallen from the upper floors of KP another two quickly followed from a lower level. Oddly however the second pair seemed to be falling rather slower than was normal and as the camera man pointed commented on this fact and zoomed in on the strange duo they all became aware of the brunette females state of undress.

“You realize we’re gonna get fired if the boss see’s this tape?”[/color]

“You realize how much money we could make selling this online?[/color]

"...keep filming."[/color]

Weren't things already bad enough with the sudden disrobing, the hand wriggling around inside her breastplate and the brief appearance of what looked like a camera without the building then trying to collapse around them? Apparently not. Isabel had almost completely forgotten about the electric young woman several flights above their current position in the stairwell. The increasingly violent shaking of the railings and the concrete attached to them was certainly an effective way of reminding anyone in the building that the Haywired mutant was still rampaging as the contents of the dart worked their way through her body. Maybe it had been a mistake to shoot the mutants inside the building.

It was becoming more and more difficult to keep her balance as the vibrations that were sent down the stairs grew stronger and stronger, the railings a few flights up beginning to tear away from the concrete and bend upward, signaling the probable fate of the materials surrounding their own positions. She didn't want to stick around long enough to be caught up in the gradual destruction of the building. Se wanted to head down the stairs toward the wall on the ground floor and then outside where she hopefully wouldn't be crushed under tons of concrete and other debris.

There was much too much going on around her to make concentrating on one thing an easy task. Trying to keep on her feet, watching the movements of the young man, trying to keep an eye on the woman on the stairs below, worrying about the mutant and crumbling building above them, thinking of how to get to the wall below them. Around and around her mind went, fighting over which aspect of her current predicament was of most importance. The young man was gradually winning the eventual direction of the mental merry-go-round, especially with his staring and the replacement of the canister in his hand with what looked to be a camera. Aimed at her. With a finger exercising the buttons on top. She would mutilate him.

Unfortunately the unfamiliar, currently skirtless, young woman was proving to be a bigger problem with every few passing minutes. Another sudden gust was kicked up with rapidly increasing strength, very quickly making it a necessity for Isabel to try to find purchase on something that would be sufficient in helping to hold herself down. A railing provided a decent handhold for the time being, but with the wind increasing and the stairwell deteriorating, it could only be a matter of time before it would be rendered useless. She hadn't even been given sufficient enough to to try and flatten herself against something in an attempt to reduce the wind's effects. There was only slightly less drag due to her infuriating lack of clothing, but even that did very little in helping her, especially when the male's body collided with hers yet again.

In a split second her grip on the iron railing was broken and she, along with one of her assailants, was forced out the window. The sensation of falling, even at a reduced rate of speed, was enough to send that thrill of panic through her yet again, her muscles locking up as her limbs curled inward, her body bracing itself for the inevitable impact. She' just barely managed to cover her head with her arms when the odd feeling of slowed movement vanished and her body fell the rest of the way to the ground uninterrupted.

The landing was certainly softer than expected, though that was not to say it was painless. Landing on top of a body meant landing on a very uneven surface, causing certain limbs and joints to bend painfully in the sudden impact, as well as muscle and bone striking against muscle and bone. At the very least, she'd managed to avoid breaking her neck, spine, and skull, all very good things. Her already blossoming bruises, however, were no doubt only further deepened while also gaining new additions.

An unhappy groan was given as her hands found their way to her head, the palms pressing themselves first to her forehead and then to her temples in a poor attempt to stop the throbbing that made her skull ache. That was, before the feeling of foreign hands pressed against other parts of her body registered in her muddled mind. The thing that really worried her about this unwanted contact was that it was being made where bone had previously lain over flesh. What the hell had happened to the covering she'd created for herself?

That's when the realization hit her fully. Not only was the bone on the outside of her body gone, but the layer that had formed beneath the skin had vanished as well, most likely having returned to the individual bones that it had originated from. Only once before had that happened to her with no explanation, and now it was happening again. Why was it happening? A fresh wave of panic struck her with the discovery, so effectively distracting her that she even forgot about the stranger until his weight shifted so suddenly as he slid away from her and onto the ground.

The shift in the young man's body not only dragged him to the ground, but also affected the way her own body was positioned atop whatever it had been she'd landed on, her own weight shifting unevenly so that she too was sent sliding to the somewhat mushy ground. Quickly she moved to rearrange her limbs after the motion had ceased, as well as putting some distance between herself and her attacker.

As she righted herself and then settled down, she quickly pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them to cover her upper body, her ankles crossing in front of her to hopefully provide some temporary covering for her lower half. Any color that had been lost in her descent to the ground was quickly regained and increased several times over. She was naked yet again. She was now outside with an undetermined amount of people. And she was mortified.

To top it all of she was mere feet away from the wall she'd created and she was, for reasons unknown, utterly incapable of using it. As the lower portion of her face, up to just under her nose, disappeared behind her knees, her eyes continued to move, attempting to take stock of whatever she could see around her. The most noteworthy thing being what, or rather who, she had landed on.

Out of all the mutants in the Order, Bacchus was one of the few she'd ever thought could have been knocked out, nevermind handcuffed and left lying in any amount of his own blood. A sense of dread was slowly creeping up on her at the sight. One of her friends had already been escorted out of the building on a stretcher. She didn't want that number to increase.

Very carefully she moved to press herself against the wall that the Giant's own back was pressed up against, doing her best to avoid the shattered bits of bone that had been barbed, the edges no doubt able to cut her now that her mutation had gone on the fritz. She hoped their landing on him hadn't dealt too much damage to the Giant. "Bane?" she tested, her voice coming out softer than she would have liked. "This is no place to be passing it, Bane," she continued, a little more firmly this time, as if it would have any affect in rousing him. Reaching out a hand she gave one of his cheeks a few quick pats in a continued attempt, but knowing that if something was capable of knocking out the Giant, it would take a lot more effort to wake him again.

However, no matter how much worry accumulated over Bacchus' condition, she couldn't seem to muster the necessary effort to expend in trying to bring him around again. With perhaps one exception, she'd never felt so vulnerable. Not only had her mutation disappeared on her again, but she had been stripped of any kind of covering thanks to the stranger she'd run into in the stairwell. Concern, anger, murderous intent, confusion, and fright all mixed together into a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within her. She felt like crying. What was she supposed to do now?

In the time it had taken Kaz to move away from Slate and dispatch the second four-man SWAT team, which he had kindly not killed though they'd be waking up with huge headaches, KP seemed to erupt into chaos. The building had began to implode, no, not implode, seemed to be ripped apart from the inside. His distraction as he saw Sam fall from on high, realized it was Lori tearing the place apart, and noticed a third mutant who seemed to become part machine(?!) earned Kaz a graze across his left cheek that just missed taking his earlobe off.

Needless to say the man, from the third group, wasn't awake much longer as Kaz broke the man's arm and hit him in the back of the head with a controlled kick. While in the air he sent a second man flying via a shockwave aimed at his chest. As the man crashed down, he flipped over himself as his chin dug into his chest and his body used his head as a pivot. Was he dead, perhaps, perhaps not, Kaz didn't really care at the moment. He was a heartbeat away from dealing with the two still standing SWAT members when something green and familiar caught his eye for just a moment.

It was surprise that kept the two men from filling Kaz full of lead while he watched Isabel fall to the ground. He noticed two things instantly: First: She was almost completely naked except for some makeshift bony lingerie; Second: Someone who looked as if he'd been shot had his hand down her cleavage. The whole scene struck him wrong. Isabel was always covered, always. And though he hadn't really talked to her since he left the Order, he highly doubted she'd willingly let a guy do as the man was doing, especially in public.

He wasn't Order anymore, but he still considered Isabel a friend. It was that frame of mind that Kaz let loose three fist size 'shot's towards a human and the man who had landed on top of Isabel. He half turned to deal with the humans near him when he realized he didn't hear anything. Head snapping back the scene hadn't really changed. The man had taken his hand from her cleavage and fell onto the floor while Isabel had moved near the sprawled non-giant. He was confused to no end. He hadn't heard a pop, a crash, bones, grunts, yells, he hadn't heard a thing. It was as if he had never acted at all.

Kaz was shocked back to his current predicament when he felt bullets smash into his back. Thankfully he was wearing a vest, or he'd probably be in a lot of pain and extremely pissed. But as it was, it just hurt in an annoying way. He twirled and moved towards the two men and received a shot in his left thigh, not deep, not enough to slow him down or impede him, but enough that he had to concentrate to stop the bleeding. Before reaching them he had gained another graze on his right upper arm. Quick stepping behind them, he knelt and grabbed a leg of each just above the ankle and began to spin.

His intention was to spin them, quickly, to make them black out then toss them lightly to the side, but as he finished his first rotation he changed his mind. Moving forward a couple of steps he spun quickly, and yelled, "Izzy! Stay down!" In that same instant and with less than a few milliseconds of one another, launched the two SWAT members at the human and the man who hand landed on top of Isabel. The men flew straight, similar to human arrows crossed with rag dolls. The men were probably flying at least 15mph, if not 20 or 30. Isabel was not in good shape, he knew she probably harbored some negative feelings towards him still, but that didn't stop him from wanting to help her. He'd never seen her as helpless looking as he did at that moment, and it disturbed him.

((OOC: Hope it's alright if I jump in here and that things are alright. If not or I need to change anything, let me know.))

The Aussie giant lay unconscious on the ground with two pairs of handcuffs snapped firmly around his wrists. In a movie or anything created by hollywood the victorious warrior would have stood over his fallen foe with a sense of pride swelling his chest. As it was, Jacen felt nothing. The anger and rage that had flooded through his system moments earlier had dissapeared, leaving him feeling like an empty shell. Inwardly sighing, Jacen stepped away from the body while grabbing the radio from off of his belt.

"I've got an unconscious mutant to the east of the main entrance. He's a size shifter so we'll probably be needing a collar or cuffs or something." Jacen said quietly as he turned away from the motionless body to scan the rest of the fight. The officer in charge was just beginning to respond when Jacen heard the sound of something falling and landing on something behind him. Spinning quickly, Jacen's Glock seemed to leap into his hand of its own accord as he drew and aimed at the individuals that had suddenly shown up.

"What the hell?!" Jacen asked in disbelief as he tried to process everything that was happening. Not only had two figures landed on top of his unconscious prisoner, but one of them was a mostly naked females that he happened to know. Could this damn fight get any crazier? Hearing a scream he turned his head to see a flesh and metal woman apparently bonding herself to a huge construction bobcat.

There weren't enough cuss words in the English language to describe how Jacen was feeling right at that moment, but his mind deffinately gave it a good shot as word after word flowed through his own internal dialogue.

Turning back to the two, Jacen holstered his pistol and pulled off his helmet and mask. "Isabel! What the hell are you trying to do? Do you want to get yourself killed?!" Grabbing his shirt he yanked it open, tearing of a few button in the process but managing to get it off without to much damage. Now clothed in pants and his white undershirt, Jacen tossed the garment over to Isabel. It would be long enough to cover everything important though there would still be quite a lot of leg showing.

"Izzy! Stay down!"

Turning, Jacen eyes widened as he suddenly locked on the two bodies that were soaring toward him and the women at apparently break neck speed. Reacting automatically Jacen turned and dove, arms spreading wide as he moved to tackle Isabel, hopefully knocking her out of the path of the projectiles.

"This is no place for ladies, damn it!" Jacen yelled over the noise of the battle, "Get the hell out of here!"

Meld was aware only of the chorusing voices, the infernal burning along her entire body and the driving need for blood. She would have her rivers of blood, the voices demanded it and she was powerless to resist. Even if it meant the destruction of those she cared about and the damnation of her soul in the process, the one small whisper of resistance was nothing compared to the torrent of demand. Refusal was not possible, it was not even considerable. What was her one tiny sliver of consciousness compared to the deafening roar of all those currently in her head, each and every one demanding blood and violence in their own ways?

Meld moved steadily forward, slowly picking up speed. In other circumstances she might have marveled at the feel of wheels beneath her and her perceptions of the road beneath her tires. She might have been fascinated by what it was like to run on gasoline and the feel of her internal combustion engine, which was now a part of her just as surely as any of her other flesh melds were a part of her. But this was not any other time and the voices would not allow her to pay attention to anything except for her insatiable lust for blood. Her eyes saw only images of red, red streams coming off of raw red bodies and pooling into deep red pools in front of her. Red spraying from mutilated corpses of her own creating, covering her arms and legs and wheels, gentling the burning in her body. Only blood could fix what was wrong with her and so blood she would have.

As Meld approached her targets, wishing desperately, with the tiniest fragment of self that remained to her, that they would run from her, run and escape her mad torturous wrath, she became aware of bodies falling out the window of the building, most of which she didn't know and only one of which she did. And even though she knew Isabel she would prefer her to be the target of her wrath than the only two she considered friends. Silently, because she was incapable of speech, she prayed that Aura and Predator would get out of the way, leaving her to bathe in the blood of strangers instead of the blood of friends. She tried to send them a look, the only control she could exert against the infernal voices. She hoped it was enough.

Aura stepped out from behind Pred-head. She was in a way grateful for his move to protect her but Aura was confident she could take care of this or at least help. Something seemed really famillier about all this though. The lack of response mainly, then Aura eyes went wide, she had a dawning realization of what this was, Haywire. Her dream had given her a single brief image, that of her on haywire attacking Moscow, she had been so very powerful, much like meld was now, but uncontrollable. Aura moved aside trying to take a flanking position on this new and quite gorgeous version of meld. If this was like the haywire she had, this might not just go away.

"Im pretty sure she has Haywire, Pred-head, i had a dream about it, and it is what's in KP. If im right Meld can't even understand who we are" she said trying to relay the information to pred-head. She wondered if Meld could burn herself out much as she had. Everyone had to wear out eventually she thought. Aura looked for a way to redirect her wrath, but knew of none, after all she was pretty sure, Meld could not hear them or likely even cared what they would say. SHe was afraid for Meld, she was hoping the haywire would just go away in time. Meld was her friend and the kind of instability haywire caused was comthing she felt Meld would most likely not like. Who wanted to lose control of them selfs afterall.

Aura wanted to help meld, and her mind raced for a way to do just that. Cars and the like ran on fuel, maybe if she found a way to cut that line she could step meld and bring her to a less dangerous, less powerful state. Still she thought sudden moves would likely get her noticed, she was glad meld had not tried to merge with a tank as fun as it would have been to watch, it would have made their current situation very dangerous. Aura considered the metal of the thing Meld attached to, could she penetrate the side of it, how tough was the metal. Breathing a few times slowly she gatherd her concentration and smiled, it was a crazy day, one she would remmber as a sad but fun day up untill this point anyway whare it was mostly sad.

Ghost had sort of come out of her incorporeality with a surprised hobble-lurch. Her power had turned off, but luckily she was near the ground this time. She didn't exactly have her feet under her, but that wasn't the worst thing to happen to her so she was fine recovering. When she looked up she noticed two things. The green eyed man was near. But nearer still was the man that had shut off her power last time.

The building groaned next to them and Ghost flattened herself behind Jacen as if he were a light pole that she could hide behind. "Excuse me." She had her sticky hands on Jacen's shoulders sort of tapping at him impatiently for his attention. Her voice wasn't much louder than a whisper and that made it a bit tricky to hear over Meld screaming and the various battles taking place around them.

If she was going to get him to help, though it was now or never. She really, really didn't want to have the green eyed man see her. Hence the hiding. And the impatience. She ducked even lower as glass rained down from somewhere up above them.

"I know you might be busy, but I'm afraid the girl up there is going to bring the building down, and I'm pretty sure you can help." Ghost motioned upward toward the crackles of lightning and swirling metal. She might not have gotten along perfectly with the man last time they had met, but if he was here, surely he was trying to help the situation rather than exacerbate it.

Ghost tugged at him. They had to go before the green eyed man saw.

This was crazy! Who in the world had ever imagined a mutant that could join itself to a bull dozer? Jacen was beginning to wonder what was worse... mutants fighting humans, or mutants fighting mutants! And why was some mutant throwing bodies at him? Did he think that Jacen was going to hurt Isabel or something?

"Look, I know you don't like me and what I can do, but right now I don't care! Just get yourself clear and get your friend out of here!" Jacen ordered Isabel before rising back up to his feet and turning to face the bull dozer woman. How the hell was he supposed to fight someone like this? Sure is power would help if he got close but there was an issue with that. Did he just have to get close to her bull dozer body or did he have to get close to the smaller body he could see suspended in the roof of the driver's area?

Over the sounds of the battle the creaking and groaning of the building next to him was getting louder. Glancing up, Jacen's eyes widened as he watched the structure almost swaying back and forth. Suddenly a voice whispered in his ear and he spun around to see the white haired woman that had quite literally fallen into his bed a few months earlier. A truck bed to be honest, but still quite surely a bed.

"Yeah, I'm a little busy but I don't really have a choice. If that building comes down everyone might die!" Jacen said, doing his best to keep from yelling with his overly forceful voice, "Any idea on how to get up there?"

Turning his gaze back up to the building, Jacen shook his head as he tried to come up with some way to handle the situation. "I wonder if the stairs are still structurally sound..."

(OOC: Continued In "Force".)

It was all happening so fast, Predator was filing all sorts of things away to be sorted and analyzed, while most of his attention was focused on not stepping on one of his friends or allies and not getting hit by whatever Meld had become. Predator didn't have much of an idea what was going on with Meld, or had even known her power in detail before now, but he did know for sure that there was something not right in Meld's head. Maybe some mutant hit her with a bout of insanity, maybe one of the mildly entertaining SWAT officers hit her with some sort of tranq that reacted badly. Either way, it was not something that Predator wanted to have long term physical consequences, to her or to himself or Aura.

"Im pretty sure she has Haywire, Pred-head, i had a dream about it, and it is what's in KP. If im right Meld can't even understand who we are"

Haywire? A dream? Something fluttered at the edge of Predator's memory. A flicker of flames, a children's scream.... It slipped away. How would Aura know about this in a dream? Maybe it was some new development in her mutation, who knew. At that point it was inconsequential. Meld was in full destruction mode, and Predator didn't think he could stop her without hurting her, even with Aura's help. Besides, she might do enough damage to the enemy that they think twice before trifling with them again. So thinking, he gestured Aura away from Meld with a shake of his head, and went off to smash a few SWAT officers.

Confusion was not a sensation Hull was accustomed to feeling, the malicious anarchist had long since ceased his attempts to make sense of the things which occurred in the world around him, after all when someone is capable of fusing with a bulldozer or summoning gale force winds explanations begin to defy a normal persons perception of reality, thus the Canadian killer had simply stooped caring and merely accepted events as they occurred it tended to make life far simpler when all decisions boiled down to the basic equation of: X and Y have become Z, how can Z be turned into profit? With profit translating into a variety of things from entertainment to basic survival. It was a formula which had served the twisted anarchist well for years and caused him to become adept at adapting to new and unexpected situations.

In spite of this however the malevolent traveler could not dismiss or even suppress the sudden tumult raging across his mindscape because, for the first time in his life the insidious wanderers memory had failed him. The former soldier was utterly unable to recall where he was or what he had been doing, for one blessed with a photographic memory from birth such an experience was, unsettling, to say the least. The last thing the sadistic slaughterer could recall with any certainty was his initial approach on the facility and the inhumation of a dimwitted guard, there were other additional images within his mind; a hazed sequence of events which involved decapitated heads and some type of poison however these lacked the natural clarity of his typical memories and thus the malicious bomber was reluctant to trust them to any significant degree for as the seconds passed the images became even more distinct as they faded into obscurity.

‘What the hell is happening to me?’

The thought surfaced to the top of the swirling pandemonium which was the sinister travelers thoughts as perplexed viridian eyes glanced left and right in order to scan his surroundings and perhaps discern his predicament from the context of events occurring before him. The first item which caught the bewildered wanderer’s attention was the blatant retort of gunfire echoing across the open expanse of land which looked to be some sort of loading area or parking lot. Conveniently however none of the firearms had directed themselves towards the former soldiers location thereby allowing him the luxury of slipping into the role of observer without concern for his own immediate safety.

Wanton violence and destruction however, while intrinsically satisfying failed to answer any of the sadistic foreigners questions and so his attention shifted to items which were somewhat closer to home, in particular the exposed brunette currently being castigated by another individual clearly in some position of authority if the gun and badge on his belt were any indication. The mans attention appeared to be solely focused on the curled naked female and although typically Hull would have made use of such a distraction to place a knife in the unknown officers ribs, in this instance however the anarchists emerald eyes paused on the brunettes scarlet features; she seemed familiar somehow yet he couldn’t for the life of him recall where he might have seen her. It was a most aggravating experience which was only compounded when the ex-soldier found himself unable to recall any item within his internal inventory.

“Izzy! Stay down!" [/color]

The exclamation carried clearly despite the constant gunfire and other general destructive mayhem occurring in the background of the chaotic battlefield and Hull found mirroring the anonymous officer as he twisted his form to glance at the source of the cry, only to have his eyes fly open in shock as an unconscious SWAT member sailed towards him at a decidedly uncomfortable velocity. Instinct took over as the malicious murderers ingrained reflexes kicked his entire body tensed as muscles contracted and then released as he dived to the right just as a blurred form barreled past him and collided with the ivory barbed wall which encircled the rapidly deteriorating KP facility. There was a cringe worthy thud as the sound of impaled flesh resulted from the unnatural collision and Hull spared only a moment to glance back at the strange mutant who had originally launched the unfortunate human before scrambling over to the fresh corpse and swiftly worked to relieve the cadaver of its weapons and other items. Irritatingly however his mutation refused to heed his call and thus the former soldier was forced to remove each item by hand, unhooking the MP5 from the cord which attached to the deceased SWAT members belt and rapidly relieving the carcass of its excess ammunition.

With his acquisition completed the sadistic wanderer hurriedly darted back to the cover provided by the comatose goliath and swiftly set about reloading his new weapon. The odds, admittedly, did not look good; his own mutation appeared to have shut down yet there was a full on brawl occurring between mutants and other armed forced no more than a few feet away. An escape route would have been ideal at this moment, a chance to withdraw and regroup, sadly though that didn’t appear to be an option; the only visible exit was the centerpiece of the battlefield and thus not a desirable stepping stone on his way to freedom. This was the industrial district however and what passed for common sense in this day and age required that most facilities have more than one entrance/exit simply for purposes of logistics, perhaps if he traveled round back he could find…

"Look, I know you don't like me and what I can do, but right now I don't care! Just get yourself clear and get your friend out of here!"[/color]

Hull’s head whipped round as he gave the strange officer a dumbfounded look; friend? Clearly this man knew not who he was addressing, however there was little point in spending time correcting the situation especially with the cacophony of chaos currently playing behind them. Besides the uniformed man had unwittingly proposed a solution to the twisted traveler’s body armor dilemma and one should never look a gift horse in the mouth, in the flank perhaps for that was where the best meat was found but never in the mouth.

“Excellent idea, We’ll just be off then.”

Without waiting for a response from either the disrobed brunette or her apparent acquaintance the insidious Canadian initiated a huddled run as he all but tackled the unsuspecting female and, with a practiced air, gathered her curled form into his arms before then tossing her up and over his shoulder in an impromptu fireman’s carry which left the bonemancers lightly covered chest to rest against the soldiers back and her bare legs to fall against his chest where they were quickly pinned in place by means of an arm wrapping across the back of the knees.

All in all it was a rather well executed maneuver, for it had allowed the deranged foreigner to continue his trajectory without having to slow his pace, the one possible downside however was the fact that the girl had been somewhat lighter than the wanderer had anticipated which had resulted in him tossing the brunette with slightly more force than was necessary, the result of this was that the decorticated bonemancer spent a brief moment inverted and, due to the effects of gravity, the slightly stained shirt she had managed to acquire a few seconds ago rode down to the middle of her back thereby exposing her from below the waist and granting a rather… intriguing view to anyone who happened to be facing the appropriate direction.

Such a development was not lost on Hull, however considering his current situation and short term amnesia he was not truly in any position to either appreciate or correct the view the girl was giving. In fact for all intents and purposes this outcome was beneficial for now the brunette not only functioned as an impromptu form of shielding from stray bullets or other projectiles, she also fulfilled the role of distraction; for anyone intending to halt the sinister killers progress would, at some point, have to get in front of him and upon doing so they would be met with a sight which, at the very least, could be termed diverting.

Moving right along however the former soldier lost no time in swiftly making a rapid retreat as he sprinted around the back of the facility in search of an alternative t. Admittedly if the police were present than it was likely that his escape route would be blocked or at least under heavy inspection, however there were ways around such things, providing one had the appropriate tools of course. All he needed was some form of vehicle, a truck, a tanker, anything which could-

The Canadians footsteps faltered as he at last escaped the adapted’s nullifying field, events from the past few hours immediately came surging back to him as his mutation reactivated itself and his memory’s restored themselves in the blink of an eye. The end result was a momentary neurological overload which wiped the twisted travelers mind for a split second, the sensation passed as rapidly as it arrived though the insidious anarchist was able to maintain his balance on his next step as his autonomous functions rapidly reapplied themselves. The murderers thoughts however were not so easily dealt with for as his body worked on automatic the killers mind was a raging torrent desperately seeking to disperse itself, nothing like this had ever occurred before and as such the foreigners synapses were working overtime to make sense of the new influx of information.

The end result of this was that when the malicious bomber finally arrived at his intended exit he paid hardly any thought to the police swarming around the chain link gate as he stretched one had out before and reflexively withdrew the one vehicle in his inventory. There was no flash of light, no burst of sound or generation of heat; one moment the ex-soldiers open palm had faced thin air and the next it had been resting against the cool metal of an NYPD squad car. The officers guarding the chain gate then had several precious seconds to react as Hull prepared the car, barely even thinking about what he was doing the sinister wanderer yanked open the back door and drivers side and carelessly tossed his ungracious guest into the back. The still overloaded bomber then threw himself behind the steering wheel as his fingers deftly worked on the cars wiring and brought the engine to life before then slamming a foot down on the accelerator and directing the stolen police cruiser through the gate.

Panic was slowly setting in as the dominant emotion and mindset for Isabel. Confusion leveled almost equally with it and fear was gradually rising as well. She didn't like being scared or confused or anything else she was feeling, with the exception of murderous. She wasn't usually afraid for herself. If anything she feared for the safety of her friends in any given hostile situation. Usually she could take care of herself just fine. It was terrifying to think that her mutation had abandoned her again when she needed it most. She just wanted to curl up and tuck herself out of sight until her mutation set itself right.

The closest thing she could manage was curling up into a tight ball and hiding her face in her hands as they pressed against her knees. If she stayed where she was, maybe she could avoid getting herself shot. She had pressed herself as close to her wall as she could possibly get, trying to avoid as many spines as possible. If the fight was further out in the field, maybe she could keep any damage to herself at a minimal level. Hopefully the stranger that had put her in her current position would do her a favor and get his head blown off.

The sudden shout of her name caused her head to snap back so she could locate the source, her eyes going a little wider when she finally located it. It was the young man that had helped her in the video store a while back. He'd been there the first time her mutation had suddenly disappeared. She didn't like that coincidence. She wanted to protest his scolding, but couldn't seem to find any words to do so. Instead she just wound up staring at him as he practically tore his shirt off before tossing it to her, leaving her scrambling to catch the item of clothing, momentarily confused with the action before he mind finally caught up and processed the reasons behind it.

As quickly as she could, she fumbled to slip her arms into the shift and then to button it, having a little trouble figuring out which buttons matched up with the holes on the opposite flap of fabric since some were now missing. In any case, it was far better than nothing, missing buttons and all. Shakily she fussed over it, letting the sleeves slide down over her hands and tugging the bottom of the shirt as far down as she could to cover as much of her body as was possible. She would take any scrap of security she could salvage at this point.

Another shout, this time a warning and issued from an even more familiar, if not long since heard from, voice. Her head turned to pursue the sound, but her attempts to locate her old companion were cut short by a body slamming into her and sending her sprawling painfully against the ground with an uncomfortable weight on top of her. A gush of air rushed out of her lungs with the impact and her head smacked painfully against the ground. It wasn't so easy to regain her lost breath as it had been to lose it. She squirmed uncomfortably, trying to get some room to breathe. Why the hell were so many bodies colliding with her in such rapid succession?

She cringed as Jacen shouted at her again, her aching head beginning to pound even more with the volume of his voice. What he could do. What exactly was it he could do? It took a moment to recall that he'd said he was a mutant that reversed strengths and weaknesses of other mutations. But, how did her weaknesses make her mutation stop working all together? She didn't understand. She didn't have time to question it, either before she was having orders barked at her and her acquaintance disappeared out in the field of mayhem and she was left on her own again.

Rather than helping anything the officer had only succeeded in confusing her even more. Her head was beginning to swim again. She wanted to leave. She wanted to go back to the Sanctuary, curl up in her bed and just hide for a few days until things settled back down. Carefully she lifted herself back up into a sitting position, now that there was no longer a body pinning her down and brought her hands up to her head in a feeble attempt to stop the pounding in her skull.

Kaz, that's who had yelled to her, wasn't it? The name suddenly clicked in her mind and properly connected itself to the voice she had heard. Quickly she tried to reorient herself, trying to take stock of her new position and where everyone else was. She wanted to find Kaz now. He was her friend and she trusted him enough to believe that he'd help her out of the situation she was in. He knew where the Sanctuary was and he'd been thoughtful to give her a warning before tossing a body toward her. He would help her out a little more, wouldn't he?

Again her eyes widened as her search for her companion presented her with an unexpected sight as her most recent opponent rushed straight at her. A panicked shriek escaped her as she made some attempt to remove herself from his path, but to no avail. Another panicked cry was given as her body was slammed into and then hoisted up and over his shoulder as he straightened out and continued on his path. An "Oomph!' was forced from her as her stomach collided with his shoulder, winding her again. A momentary feeling of panic hit as her body felt as if it would slip back to the ground before she felt her legs being pinned firmly against the offending male's chest, abruptly halting her descent.

What the hell was the creep up to, and why was she along for the ride? The sudden breeze didn't escape her and one hand frantically moved to pull the shirt back down over her backside as best she could and hold it there while the fingers of her other hand curled up a section of the stranger's shirt as she tried to anchor herself somehow and keep her chest from bouncing too roughly against his back.

They were moving away from the fight, that much she could discern through her bouncing, jostling vision. Away from the fight at what looked like the back side of KP. It was kind of hard to tell since everything looked different from her particular current angle. More people she didn't know, all of them wearing uniforms. And then the back seat of a car.

Her body bounced roughly against the seat, her head slamming against the closed door opposite the one she'd been tossed through before the door was shut painfully against her legs, causing her to quickly curl the limbs closer to herself, one hand pressing against the sore flesh as her other hand searched the back of her head for blood. She was surprised her skull hadn't cracked the window. Unhappy, pained sounds built up in her throat as she heard the other door close and the engine roar to life not long after.

Her body was abruptly shifted and hurled against the sides of her new enclosure as the gas pedal was pressed to the floor and the vehicle screeched into motion. Where was he going now? Why hadn't he dumped her outside with the cops? Why was this stranger targeting her so suddenly? She was beginning to panic again, and in that rush of defensiveness and need for protection, the familiar feeling of shifting bones and plates forming under her skin alerted her that her mutation had become active again and was there to help.

Relief flooded through her with the discovery as she experimentally poked a few spines through her skin as if to double check that she wasn't imagining things before the let them slide back into her armor. Another sudden shift as the car moved brought her back to her current predicament. If her mutation was back, that meant she at least stood some kind of fighting chance now. A murderous glare was turned toward the driver. She would get out of that car somehow, and she had an idea of how she'd do it.

Struggling momentarily to right herself on the backseat of the vehicle, she completely forgot about her previous concern over her state of dress as all her focus was directed on the man behind the wheel. Sacrificing some of the armor in her fingers, she extended short thorn-like barbs from the ends of the digits and abruptly moved to wrap her hands around his neck, aiming to press the sharp points into the vulnerable flesh there. "I want out of this car and I want out now!"