Pompous, arrogant, scary lady. She had to be careful about this or it would be her beneath all that metal.

"Oh. You'll forget." Noel tossed the other two rocks at the red thing pointed in her direction. They wizzed past harmlessly, but the thing reacted subtly. Something was seeing her actions. Something on that... was that an eyeball. An eyeball on a tail. Geez-Louise this chick was Messed Up enough to warrant the use of capital letters.

She scrabbled for the permanent marker in her pocket. The lid she grabbed between her teeth for ease of use and then wrote on her sweaty palm. It didn't appear that the can opener was bothered much beyond the thought that she would be one more person to kill.

Her mind raced as she recapped the marker and replaced it in her breast pocket. What could she take from this girl that would most affect her actions? Could she make a metal arm cease to function? Noel had no experience with metal appendages herself so she wasn't entirely sure what would help there. She did have experience in blood, though. And that was definitely blood seeping out of Maxine's head.

Crap. There was no time left. This had better work through a tail eye. If not Noel was about to be in deep you-know-what.

Her focus sharped down to a single red eyebally point. And went deep, deep and deeper.

Forget whatever made you so onery.
Forget everything that makes you want to hurt Maxine.
Forget what it's like to be a freak.
Forget what made you a killer.
Forget this month.
Forget last month.
Forget the month bef—

Limit reached. Noel's eyes stopped their crazy whirling abruptly and her whole body sagged, unsteady in its balance. A simple breeze could knock her over. She was blank. Idle. Things in her mind were slipping and sliding into place as she had ordered them. As she had ordered them onto the tail monster.

Maxine was having trouble lifting her head. Focusing her eyes was a little too much to demand of herself, on top of that. The woman who’d come to her rescue—it was a hard to tell, with the way she wavered as she stood there, but—she seemed to be... less muscular than Maxine could have hoped. At less well armed. All she seemed to be doing was looking at Swiss Army’s tail. A thought became suddenly clear to her.

“You need to run,” the reporting intern croaked. Because otherwise, Meld was going to kill her. “Get help.” Because Maxine didn’t want to die, either.

If anything had changed about the mutant above her, Maxine wasn’t in a state to notice.

(OOC: I wasn't sure how to write up the mind wipe so if I need to change things, let me know.)

Red ruby eye met human hazel eyes. Everything suddenly went went. The world fell away only to be replaced by an all encompassing white light. Time seemed to freeze in place and the most horrific pain Meld had ever experienced came into her head. She wanted to raise her hands to clutch at it, wanted to move her tail so she wasn't looking at the stranger anymore, but she was completely paralyzed, unable to move even a finger.

A flash of her killing a brown haired man ran through her head, neck slit from her clawed hands, only to disappear. A flash of sitting at a large table with many other people appeared and disappeared a moment later. A flash of being melded with a bobcat and mutants fight all around her and that was gone too. Another flash of standing guard over a girl a little younger than she was while someone shot at them an then it was gone. One event after another flashed before her eyes only to be eaten by the horrible consuming white light and then they were gone never to be reclaimed.

Suddenly Meld could see again and could move again. She stumbled off of Maxine, barely registering that she was atop someone and staggered to her feet. What had happened? Where was she? Who were these people?

Wobble. A few blinks and Noel came back to herself. Did she feel stupendous? No. She felt like she was missing something. Like the butt of the joke and she was still laughing along with someone.

She was in a park. It was night. There was a girl on the ground and a hostile, also on the ground. "Federal agent. Back the heck away." She reached for her gun and noticed something on her hand. Her own handwriting.

Wipe both.

Noel knew just who to point the gun at. There was only one person bleeding and only one person made of sharp and pointy things. Even if red-hair had a little something to forget, that didn't mean she deserved to get mauled.

"Don't make me ask nice." It was entirely unnecessary, but she pulled the hammer of her gun for dramatic effect. Noel let all the air out of her lungs slowly and took a two handed grip on her gun as she retreated to the white static part of her mind. It was peaceful after a wipe. The perfect kind of peaceful for shooting someone between the eyes.

Meld let her go. The red head had no idea way, but Meld let her go. Her body felt startlingly light as the metal-limbed mutant stood: suddenly, her attempts to crawl produced tangible results. She scrambled desperately behind the newcomer before trying to find her feet.

>> "Federal agent. Back the heck away."

Maxine’s hero. The intern didn’t know why this was working, when Swiss Army had killed so many people before this; she couldn’t even imagine what this woman had done that had the serial killer looking so shaken. And, to be entirely honest: she didn’t yet care. Maybe later. For now:

>> "Don't make me ask nice."

“Yeah,” the reporter added from behind the woman’s back, with wobbly bravado.

"Federal agent. Back the heck away."

Although Meld heard the words, they failed to register in her electrified cotton filled head. The shooting pain and the inky blackness consumed her consciousness and, in that moment, she wasn't even aware of the gun pointed in her direction.

"Don't make me ask nice."

That demand she registered, finally looking up t see the gun squarely aimed at her. What had she done to deserve a federal agent aiming a gun at her? She didn't remember doing anything bad but then she didn't remember much of anything. "Its not my fault." Desperate confusion in her voice.

Meld had to get away, the urge so strong it was almost a panic. She had to get away and figure out what had happen, figure out where she was and what she had done. She began balking away from the crazy woman with the gun, shield protectively in front of her, tail blinking periodically behind her so she didn't accidentally bump into anything. At the first possible opportunity she would flee and never look back.

Scary metal lady ran. She actually ran. "Huh." Noel hadn't expected that. Her gun moved from pointing at scary metal lady to pointing at the sky. Maybe she'd erased her sense of bravery? Noel wasn't feeling all that confident either, but her bravado had worked just fine.

The memorymancer sucked in some air and put the hammer back against the gun slowly. When she clicked the safety on and dropped her hands they weren't nearly as steady as they had been. She kept the gun out in case this was a case of the mutant hiding in the bushes, though to be honest, she would be in trouble if it were.

"You okay?" because Noel needed to sit down now. A quick look over the red head said that she might not object to that offer. Noel motioned to a street lamp. It was possible that there was a bench there, but even more probable that the light marked some kind of entrance or exit to this zoo and that meant foot traffic or traffic traffic. Something that often provided a bit of safety when stabby murderers were about. "Tell me everything from the beginning. I think I have sterile gauze."

Once they were sitting she could fish around in her ankle pouch for the medical packaging. Until then she had her gun and her own wobbles to worry about.

As much as the red head liked the idea of well-lit places, traffic, and sitting, she wasn’t fond of the homicidal mutant still on the loose. As they made their way towards the street lamp and late night civilization, she stayed near to the agent’s side, with frequent over-the-shoulder glances. There seemed to be nothing there but an agitated pen and a limping pile of paper, but she couldn’t be sure. Not anymore.

Less than a half hour ago, she would have been sure there wasn’t a Can Opener in the bushes, either.

>> "You okay?"

“ ‘M fine, I think.” She paused to wipe a coppery drip away from her upper lip. She paused again to stare at the red smear on her hand, then turned and sat down. Heavily. Rex had beaten them there: metallic tentacles were wrapped around a bench leg, slowly scratching at the carved letters of M.K. + L.Z. 4 EVER. The pile of paper settled next to her dress shoe, clumsily bumping against the heel, as if it had forgotten its own motives for the moment. Maxine knew the feeling.

>> "Tell me everything from the beginning. I think I have sterile gauze."

“I was leaving work,” the intern said. “With my paper. Right. And... she came out of nowhere. She called my reports... slanderous.” The red head sniffed, and tilted her head back; her nose wasn’t broken, but she didn’t like the prospects of how it would look on camera next week. On the other hand, maybe she did. Mutants seek to silence brave and beautiful young reporting intern. Maybe she could pre-record it, while the bruising was at its prime.

“I don’t think I need gauze. Maybe a tissue—” Maxine reached for her purse, and found only an empty place at her side. She gazed forlornly off into the darkness. It was not worth going back in there. Not right now.

“Rex. Fetch.”

The octoclip paused for a moment, then went back to scratching L.Z. into E.Z. Maybe if her mutation wasn't so useless, she wouldn't be in this mess.

The red head slowly turned her head, and focused on her savior. "How'd you scare her away?"

She hadn't put away her gun. It worked pretty good at scaring away the pointy lady the first time. It could work again. But a gun in hand certainly made it hard to fish around in her ankle pouch.

And while she was down there she saw the most... strange... it was moving. And slightly reflective... it reached a silvery tentacle up and scratched at the bench. Noel watched. Spellbound. Scritch, scritch.

Eventually she remembered the zipper. And everything came tumbling out. Map, A few medically sealed packages, a mini sharpie, a key... she didn't even know what that key opened.

>“I don’t think I need gauze. Maybe a tissue—”

"Bleh." Now she told her.

Noel leaned back into the wooden bench and pulled out a pen and a notepad from her breast pocket. Her gun bobbled around more dangerously than it should have, but right now it was as much safety blanket as side arm.

She jotted down the cliff notes of what Maxine had told her so far. Leaving work and was ambushed by pointy. Red head is "slanderous" reporter. Reported about pointy.

>“Rex. Fetch.”

The jumble of paperclips paused. Heeeeey. Those were paperclips! Safe to say Noel wasn't firing on all cylinders right now.

>"How'd you scare her away?"

"I pointed a gun at her." Or did little miss red head miss that part? Not a lie. That was most likely why she had run. Guns were scary for the people on the wrong end of them.

Noel stuffed said gun under her arm and went about refolding the small things that went into her ankle pouch. She left out all the medical packaging. One had "medical gauze" clearly printed on the front. One looked like a diabetic blood pricker, one looked like a tiny silver bead. Everything else got zipped up and put away. Even the gun. She just couldn't justify juggling it around any more.

"And your full name, official job position and what exactly did you say about her? I'll need to write up a report on all this." Also true, though probably not the report red thought she'd be making. A mutant reporter wasn't a horrible tag. If she was being targeted this could actually help her more than RUPERT, but she seemed monitor worthy.

As Noel took notes, a tentacled mesh of paperclips climbed out of the shadows and over her shoe, exploring the spilled treasures. Maxine herself leaned in close for a journalistic look at what the agent was scribbling.

“I am not ‘slanderous,’ ” she protested. “That’s what Swiss Army said. Equal in Stupidity is a fact-based opinion segment,” thank you very much. She leaned back again with a wet sniff; tilting her head forward hadn’t been such a hot idea.

The octoclip unfolded the map, crease by crease. When it was at its full and proper width, it was left discarded on the ground. The tentacles prowled on, finding the mini sharpie more of a challenge.

>> "And your full name, official job position and what exactly did you say about her? I'll need to write up a report on all this."

“Maxine. Maxine Rawls, Wolf News. Intern.” Maxine took her fingers away from her nose, but she kept her head at a cautious angle. “All I did was report on that cup cake shop massacre. And the limo-back dealings with that wanna-be congresswoman.” An experimental nose wiggle. “Maybe a few other things, here and there. It was all the truth. If she doesn’t want to be on the news, she should stop killing people.”

The mini-sharpie was uncapped. A broken black line of permanent marker was left on one of Rex’ clips as a result. The mesh seemed to consider this for a moment: then, with grave diligence, it began to carve thick black swathes on the map under it: MK + EZ

“What is that?” The red head suspiciously asked, watching the pricker and the gauze and the bead from a tilted angle. “I don’t think I need those.” She wasn’t quite sure, though. Things were still... cognitively fuzzy.

4 LVLR

>“I am not ‘slanderous,’ ”

Noel turned her eyes toward the redhead without turning her face. "It's in quotes." It didn't have to be in quotes. She was being generous because it was a personal account and this person had been battered in the face by a partial robot.

Equal in Stupidity is an opinion segment full of factual "slander." Noel wrote it again just to poke at the drama queen's delicate sensibilities. She had to keep collecting information as long as Maxine would give it because, well, to be honest the memorymancer wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to clean off this woman's brain.

Intern at Wolf News. Cupcake Killings Massacre. Limo scandal congress." That was going to make no sense later, but to be honest she didn't especially care right now... could possibly be the congress wannabe pulling strings that got Noel there. She fixed the lopsided "n" on the last letter of congress.

And blatantly ignored Maxine's question about the tracking gear. Momma always said...

"I'd normally ask if you had any enemies, but it seems it's your job to make them and it's pretty clear Swiss Army did it? Is that what she's called?" She muttered something about whackadoodles as she scratched her head with her pen. "Any clue where we might pick up Swiss Army?" Of course that was wandering a bit off topic. Noel wasn't exactly feeling super up to this underhanded spy question thing.

The top of her notes, she dated three months and five days older than they should have been.

“Witnesses report she goes by ‘Meld.’” Maxine replied, with great and grown-up dignity. She’d put Ms. Pissy Agent in quotes. On her blog. Two thousand daily subscribers and growing. “What did you say your name was again?” Her smile was sweet enough to kill flies by proximity alone.

“As to where to find her—why don’t you try her crime scene of the week? She’s obviously locally based; comes and goes either on foot or in stolen cars, from what I’ve heard. I’m sure a talented woman such as yourself, belonging to a competent government organization won’t have any trouble tracking her back to her burrow. Who did you say you worked for, again?” Agent lit ‘FBI’ bells in Maxine’s head—cops didn’t call themselves ‘agents.’

“Here, you seem to be having trouble. Let me help.”

The pen in Noel’s hand suddenly gave a pull for the top of the page. If left to its own devices—and Maxine’s guidance—it would correct the date. If it happened to scrawl a big black line over some quote-unquotes on its way up, that would just be most regrettable.

As Maxine’s thoughts began to coalesce again, so did the stack of paper at her feet: it reshuffled itself into a neat rectangle, and began a more proper ravaging of her ankle. A heel ground into its top put a quick, smiling stop to that.

"And is this the first time you've met Meld in person?" Noel's teeth sat entirely too close together. She wasn't grinding them. Not yet. She had very few questions left. And yes, she was asking the questions here. Not the reporting intern.

Noel had asked for information not sass. Unfortunately, telling a woman that she was sassy never seemed to lead to good things for the memorymancer. The brunette sighed... and her pen started moving up the page. She was pretty sure she didn't do that. Even more sure when the word "slanderous" started blacking itself out with her hand in tow.

For Pete's sake it was short hand!

Screw it. She let the pen do its thing. Scribbling out words in her notes was no big if it was keeping Maxine's attention. The red head even looked down and away for a bit. Her mutation seemed pretty distracting.

Distracting enough to keep her from noticing what Noel was doing? Probably not. But she opened the injector and popped the tiny tracker into place before pulling the slide back. She was locked and loaded now and no matter what she was supposed to wipe this kid for, Noel was about to wipe her for this.

Loosely in her hand she held what looked to be a diabetic supply used for pricking the finger and getting just a single drop of blood. "Do you know something you shouldn't, Maxine? Something that would get someone to send me after you? Because I'm supposed to wipe your memory." She showed the red head her palm that was somewhat sweatier than before.

"Wipe both."

Agent Pissy hadn’t given her name. Agent Pissy hadn’t identified who she worked for. Agent Pissy hadn’t even flashed her cereal box badge.

Wasn’t there some rule, that officers of the law had to identify themselves? Maxine was pretty sure there was. Either that, or there really should be. Because Agent Pissy was holding a pricker like it was a weapon and threatening to do to her what she’d apparently just done to the Can Opener, and Maxine couldn’t work out whether or not she should be running now. Again. Wasn’t once per night enough?

“I know nothing,” Maxine said levelly, “that every single one of my viewers doesn’t also know, which isn’t archived in our news banks, and which hasn’t been disseminated through the internet. What are you going to wipe, Fed? The freedom of the press?”

The reporting intern was not sassy. She was a Scorpio.

Threatening? No, she was asking a question like a civilized human being which was much less threatening than Meld who had been bashing Maxine's head against the concrete mere minutes ago.

And as lovely as it would be to erase the freedom of the press... "No. I lost what I was supposed to do when I stopped pointy from putting your face through the ground." Though Maxine's job was possibly in direct conflict with Noel's there was no way to know what needed to be forgotten and what didn't. She spun the pricker between her fingers like a pen.

"In all actuality I was probably going to dig a little deeper on something you reported about and then make our conversation like it never happened." No bells ringing for Maxine about interesting topics of discussion? Pity.

If Noel was alone out here (and so far no one had come running out of the brush) then this wasn't supposed to have been anything dangerous. It was just a shame that any time she was out alone things like this could happen. "If I were here on official business then I would have come with someone else at a more respectable hour." So this was probably more a hunch she was chasing or a favor for someone higher up neither of which would have a record that she could access.

Noel caught the pen and held it between the two of them. "This is a lancet with a small tracking device. It goes in under the skin and reacts to a low level RF signal. You're are a high-profile, natural target for mutants. I'm guessing your response to my asking if I can lowjack you is 'hell no.'"