On this fine morning our dear friend Gregory could be found sitting at his coffee table with a lovely breakfast before him. Everything was there. Ham, eggs, Upper and lower intestines, two eyeballs, all you needed to call your meal well rounded. The spectacular creature took a contented breath, and dug right into his meal. "I do say, mother, your innards really are hitting the spot today... what ever did you eat before I chopped you up? Oh, no need to respond, you're dead, after all." His British accent. It was stereotypical, and easy; perfect for home use.

After a few more bite fulls, he paused, and sighed. It really was lonely here without someone to talk to... Perhaps he shouldn't have killed all of them... no, it was for the best; people got upset when you ate their mothers, especially if you were their brother. He took another bite, and an idea got right into his head. "I should blow something up." Yes, indeed! He had made quite a batch of pipe bombs the other day, and what use was a bomb if it was not exploding?

He clicked it excitement, hurrying to throw on his big Grey coat, load it with bombs, and scurry down into the streets. Once he reached the streets, it occurred to him that he needed a few things...

First off, a Target; easy, Ralph's Bug Eradication on 4Th ave... What kind of slimy monster committed genocide so proudly?! It was his family they were killing, and so he would kill them!

Second off, An accomplice... It couldn't be someone weak, or normal; he hated normal, normal was boring... Surprisingly edible, but boring! No, he needed someone... Exciting!

In the days since Lenna had led Meld back to the golden doors of Sanctuary, her unfortunate memory situation still had yet to improve. There were the occasional flashes of something familiar, of course, but any time she tried to focus on those things she just ended with a headache and no clearer idea of what they meant or how they were familiar than when she had started. Even though she knew it was probably best to simply accept that they were gone and move on with her life, she was unable to do so. They were her memories, a part of who she was and she couldn't just settle for the fact that she had a 3 year gaping whole in her memory.

Meld's cause became, once again, the center of her existence because she knew, past or present, it was something she could dedicate her life and her efforts too. At least the mutant cause was something where she could make a difference and had the added advantage of possibly bringing her into situations that might trigger something familiar. As painful and enraging as it sometimes was to try without success to regain her lost memories, it was better than simply accepting that they were gone forever. Something had happened to her to take them away and what had been removed could be returned. Or so she kept telling herself. And once she did have them returned, whoever had been responsible was going to suffer and suffer horribly.

Meld currently was not thinking about either her lost memories or her chosen cause, however. What she was thinking about was finding some food. Sanctuary, of course, had some very skilled cooks and she normally partook in whatever it had to offer, but she was looking for something a little different today, though what she wasn't entirely certain. Maybe she was just looking for an excuse to cut some anti-mutant idiot and let off some stress but the urge hadn't gotten to the point of controlling her actions and thoughts just yet. So she wandered up a street, not too far from Sanctuary, searching for whatever restaurant might catch her interest.

While Meld was searching for a restaurant to catch her interest, our friendly bug of all trades had found his piqued by none other than Meld herself. A curious slicking noise escaped his maw as he caught sight of her. "Ohhh. Pointy." She was made of pointy! He was some distance behind her, and he decided that he must follow her, rather than address her directly! Why? He didn't know! Joy!

The clattering sound of chitinous limbs skittering from cover to cover would lay just inside of Meld's hearing distance, barely distinguishable from the din of the every day cloud. She certainly looked interesting, didn't she?- the roach mused in his head; not like the normal rif-raf. Pointies aside, she had a look of turbulence about her; like he was a pot of water just waiting to boil. His gnashers chattered with excitement-chit-chit-chit. "Oh-my." He skittered behind a mailbox, hiding behind it even though he was way too large to be covered by it's form. People were looking at him oddly; he nipped at a passerby, and they cursed in surprise and ran.

All in one moment he wondered where his pursued was headed, wondered how she might taste with cracked black pepper and a teriyaki glaze, and how long it might take to digest a parking meter. That last thought was unrelated, but parking meters looked oddly edible sometimes.

Meld was being followed. At first she wasn't certain of the fact, but now she was positive. The first blink of her tail eye had resulted in a flash of a strange bug man but she hadn't thought too much of it. After all, although unusual it wasn't unheard for odd looking mutants to walk around the city; she was one of them. Another blink had shown him, still there, behind her at some distance. He probably wasn't even aware that she could see him at all; not too many people expected a tail of having an eye. A third blink showed him hiding behind a mailbox (a mailbox? Really?) and that confirmed her suspicious. She was, in fact, being followed. By a strange looking bug man. The question was why.

Never being one to run from a confrontation or even to make of a confrontation something subtle, Meld stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned around, both tail and human eyes trained on directly on the bug man. She mentally prepared herself in case things should get violent, entering a pose that was deceptively casual but in truth allowed for the maximum opportunity for quick reaction if it should come down to such an eventuality.

"You have exactly thirty seconds to explain why you're following me," Meld told the man in her most deadly calm voice. She wasn't in the habit of attacking mutants but if one was following her for anything less than perfectly innocent reasons, she might just be willing to make an exception. She had enemies, some of which she remembered and some of which she didn't, and those enemies probably wouldn't be above employing a mutant to come after her.

The woman turned around and confronted him, the squeed at the top of his buggy lungs, and then chittered excitedly like a surprised but elated child. Instead of running like one might, he scooted on in, looking her up and down. How had she seen him? Oh my, was that a looking glass on her tail? Magnificent! This creature was a work of art! A lovely toy of death! He spoke with a tint of awe in his voice.

"Why follow you? Why not?!" He reached up and emulated the human action of biting his bent finger in excitement as he hopped a little like a you tube kid getting an N64. "My dear I could not help but follow you. I find you simply... Enthralling!."He drooled a little, and sucked it up. Mr Samson then paused in mid thought, staring at her as he chattered his palps, and then, as if stuck by an epiphany, he started forward. "You and I must destroy something together! I have a noble cause to attend to, and now that I have seen you, It would be dreadful not to have you assist!" He clapped his hands together and clasped them, begging. "Oh you will, wont you? There exists a group of people who simply must die, and the help would be much appreciated!"

The Roach was on his knees, begging while still eying her with an active maw of mouth pieces moving about approvingly.

Meld had seen a lot of mutants during her time in the city and many of them were more than a little strange. She knew they came in all colours of the rainbow with powers that covered the vast range of imaginings, but she couldn't recall having ever met a mutant quite like this and she was certain she would remember if she had. Even with her memory as it was, surely she wouldn't be able to forget someone quite like that.

Meld allowed the giant cockroach man to examine her and even felt vaguely complimented that he seemed to think so highly of her appearance. It wasn't often that people reacted to her in that way, after all. She wanted to comment on his own appearance, which was intriguing in its own right, but the man was just so unexpectedly strange that she didn't quite know how to react to him and it was rare that she was left so bereft of ideas. Instead she stood there dumbly blinking for longer than was probably polite.

"You want me to help you destroy things?" Meld was still struggling to get her brain back to working properly. "Why?" She and Aura had gone on many missions that involved death and destruction but she couldn't recall anyone simply walking up to her and inviting her out to destroy things before. Not that it didn't have its merits if the cause was good, but still. She'd have to gauge the situation and motivations before she agreed to much of anything.

Mr. Samson seemed oblivious to Meld's dumbstruck reaction to his admiration. The one thing that struck him, though, was her question. His antennae jerked about sarcastically for a moment, and then he hopped to his feet, smacking a random passing stranger as he open his arms widely; the man ran off. He took a 50's New Yorker business man 'shark' tone as he continue.

"Why destroy something? I'd hate to sound repetitive, honey, but once again, why not?!" He stepped closer to her, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder and try to huddle her in. "I dunno if you noticed, toots, but you and I? All you gotta do is look at us and you can tell we were born to raise hell." He turned away from her, speaking as if addressing an audience out in the other direction, projecting so that she could hear clearly as well. An old Asian lady was right in front of him, staring dumbstruck; he ignored her. " The world is a cauldron! And we-" He turned his body towards her just enough to let her see his face as he looked back. "We are the wicked witches born to stir it up!"

The roach paused thoughtfully, and then turned to address her. "Then again, by chance, this particular explosion does have a reason behind it. I gotta bone to pick with a group that kills living, breathing beings just cause they're different." He stepped in close once more. "Being different yourself, ya wouldn't mind lending a hand in their misfortune, would ya?" The spastic insect let out a wink of his big buggy eye to his new friend.

Meld tensed instantly as the bug man touched her shoulder, barely managing to restrain her impulse to lash out with her deadly tail. Didn't he realize that touching another mutant, especially one such as herself, was dangerous? If his instincts were so poor as that, she was certain he wouldnt' survive long. She wondered if she was aware of just how close he had been to recieving a blade to the neck. Judging by the animated way he continued to speak, probably not.

Despite the man's lack of personal survival instincts, however, Meld couldn't help but be persuaded by his logic. He had a weird sort of charisma about him, that was for sure. She carefully stepped back, attempting to disengage herself from the hand still upon her shoulder.

"I tell you what," Meld spoke when he was finally finished. "We establish a couple of ground rules and I'm in. First, and most importantly, its dangerous to touch me when I'm not expecting it. Instincts almost caused me to plunge my tail into your neck. So, no touching me. Second, my name's Meld and I wouldn't mind something to call you by. Other than that, give me the details and I'd be happy to help."

Something told Meld that she was about to do something crazy and, violent and destructive as she sometimes was, she rarely did anything actually crazy. Still, maybe this was exactly what she needed to relieve a little tention and get back at a world that hated and despised mutants.

The magnificent Mr. Samson smiled a smile that would make a pit bull whimper as he heard Meld's response. He knew right away that he'd gotten her attention; though she seemed tense.

She told him about the whole stabbing him in the neck deal, and he responded with a coy. "You and I are alike, toots, y'see I wanted to bite your nose off the whole time; we both wanted to cause serious harm to each other, and we both didn't. Destiny." He cackled loudly, paused, kicked a random rock into traffic, causing a car to swerve dangerously, and then looked back to Meld. "I'm Gregory, but you, you're the bees knees, so I'll let ya call me Roach!"

He stepped just a little closer, almost putting his hand on her shoulder, but stopping himself short, nodding a little, twiddling the fingers on his middle arms, and dropping the arm back to his side. "The destination is on fourth and rockner, just a few blocks away... It's a group of people who are paid to... gas my friends... Evil men... They killed Richard and Smokey... Oh how I will miss them... Both only three years old... Almost got Frankie, too, but he escaped." Sure, he omitted the fact that Richard and Smokey were both cockroaches, but he was sure that wasn't important.

The giant bug turned and started walking toward their destination. "I've got five pipe bombs-" a random lady looked up, and he winked and clicked his cheek at her as they passed."- both on fifteen second fuses. We should be able to throw them through the front door from afar, and make it clean and easy. We can get out without anyone knowin what hit em." His middle arms got busy preparing buttoning up his coat and preparing the bombs as they walked... Having four arms certainly had it's perks.

The self proclaimed Roach must surely be crazy, Meld decided. Given that he was crazy, did that mean she was also crazy for agreeing to cause some chaos with him? Probably but she wasn't about to go back on it now. "I suggest channeling that urge towards bodily harm towards something more productive, like harming your enemies instead of your allies." At least she assumed they were allies now, since they had just agreed to work together.

"I know the place," Meld answered. It wasn't a place she had heard of as being an openly anti-mutant establishment, but part of the problem with those who hated mutants was that many of them weren't open about it. It was an insidious problem that was often difficult to route out at its source. But killing mutant children was one of the greatest crimes that someone could commit and nothing short of death would do for such individuals.

Meld followed the giant bug man, sending a frigid glare at the lady who seemed far more interested in their conversation than she should be. She knew the effect her glares had on people, especially people without the means to defend themselves. "We should remain nearby, just in case someone manages to get out alive. I assume if you're suggesting we use pipe bombs, you're not overly concerned about who happens to be observing?" At this point in Meld's career it didn't really matter to her if someone called the cops. She had a record a mile long anyway, one more murder wasn't going to make much of a difference, but most people didn't have the same casual attitude when it came to the police.

The Kafka-esque cockroach chitter-chattered in glee as the situation got more and more agreeable. Indeed, Mr. Samson could already tell this day was going to be monumental from this moment on. He winked a big buggy eye at her as she addressed his violent thoughts. Continuing with the 50's go-getter theme, he spoke quickly, decisively. It was like every sentence was the last in an energetic business deal. "Don't sweat it, toots, I get thoughts like that all of the time! Brilliant thoughts of death and destruction, but I know ya gotta stay your hand if they are counterproductive to your main goal, so I don't act on them!"

He tilted his head in just a little, speaking lowly. "But I can read between the lines there as well. Don't worry your pretty head, hunny, you and I are gonna be pals, I can see it now!" He broad casted the last part to the streets, making a grandiose gesture about it. He then walked onward, listening to her speak on the particulars. "I like the way you think, sweety, but you gotta look at the big picture. If you kill all of them, sure they're dead, but what does that mean? Just that, they are out of the picture, nothing more. No, this isn't just a killing, darling, this is a message! We gotta show em that it isn't safe to kill those that aren't like you!" He stopped in his tracks, and turned to her, waving her in. "I've just had a brilliant idea; an epiphany, if you will. We paint a message on the first wall the survivors will see on their way out... Big and red..." He made a sweeping motion with his hand, aiming it across a wall as if the message were already there as an example. "'Murder begets murder.'... Yeah... Priceless..." He nodded. "And we won't stick around... We'll toss em in... from the top, get out on the anon. Maybe we can seal off the front door so they will run out the back and see the message for sure..." He clapped all of his hands excitedly, and waited for her two cents. "I'm sure you can clime walls no problem with that kinda hardware, right?"

Roach was just about the strangest man that Meld had ever encountered, and that covered a surprising amount of ground. It had nothing (well almost nothing) to do with the fact that he looked like a giant cockroach and more to do with the fact that his mind just seemed to be a little off kilter. Still, and almost despite herself, she was finding that she was...actually coming to like the man. Oh, he was crazy she could see that pretty clearly and she wasn't too sure about the fact that he kept calling her 'toots', but for all that he also had a strange and inexplicable sort of charisma about him that she couldn't help but appreciate. Now hopefully her appreciation of a crazy mutant wouldn't get her killed in the end.

"I believe you have a point with your 'murder begets murder'", Meld agreed with a dark smile. She had left similar messages in the past although though had been written on skin with blood and blades and it didn't seem like they were actually going to physically encounter their culprit this day, if everything went well. "And no, climbing walls is not an issue." In fact, it was climbing walls and jumping from rooftop to rooftop that had aided to escape from the police more times than she had bothered to count. "You point out the target and between the two of us I'm certain we can leave a message no one will soon forget."

The incredible Mr. Samson clicked his mandibles in agreement to her statements, fluttering his wings as he saw her smile widely."Atta girl! Now ya look dangerous. I like you, Meld, You've got moxy, pizazz, great heeps of chutzpah! Come, come, we gotta job ta do!" On he went. They finally came to the street across from their destination.... Ralphs...

He stopped mid side-walk and turned to view the place for a moment... It was a simple structure, but it's visage filled the giant bug with a tempered sort of rage; the kinda that made you hatch plans rather than throw hooks. Mr. Samson had done just that, and his eggs were looking to hatch in a very meaningful sense. "No paint... We'll hafta improvise... Sugar, I gotta plan that I think you'll love... First off, we go into the alley between the target and that barber shop... We climb above the back door and knock... You will yank em out and... acquire some red paint from them." He'd gotten the feeling that she had been maybe just a bit disappointed that he wouldn't get the chance to kill someone in a more personal sense; this would fix that, and give them something to ink the message with.

"After you finish, you will pain the message while I climb on up to the top and smash the windows, depositing the... eh... fireworks... After that's done, I'll hop down, my identity protected by my coat, and block the front door. Then, we vanish, and maybe have some coffee or tea later to wind down and watch the breaking news on the tube... howsat sound?" He placed his big set of arms on his hips as he waited for an answer, still looking out of the building... if this went right they would get out of this without being identifiable.

The target of their assault wasn't exactly a building that screamed anti-mutant hate, but then again, few such buildings really existed. The compound of the human isolationist cult that she and Aura had destroyed had screamed exactly that, or at least stated it in no uncertain terms, but that was about it. The key to the evil of such people was that they new how to blend in. Unless you did your research or happened upon them in one of their less civil moments, it was impossible to tell those humans that were accepting of mutant kind and those humans that would prefer mutants off the face of the earth. Meld had no problem with the former kind, it was the latter she took exception too.

"I can't acquire paint from just anyone," Meld stated with some reluctance. Despite her skills and her experience at using such skills, she still maintained strict rules about who deserved to die and who didn't. Alas, someone who simply had the misfortune of having a shop near their intended shop was not reason enough to kill them. "If, however, you happen to know of an individual who has done our people harm, that individual would be an acceptable target." Her moral compass couldn't tolerate being ignored.

Aside from the exact question of who they would acquire their 'paint' from, Meld thought the entire plan sounded quite good. "I think I can work with that," she agreed. It was so rare that she got to really enjoy the results of her handiwork once it was completed. Tea sounded like the perfect end to the afternoon, if all went well.

"No worries, sweetcakes, that's why we are taking someone from the building's back door... anyone who answers the door for them has to be associated with them, right? so they are guilty too."

He winked his left bug eye at her, and clapped his hands together in excitement. This plan was going to go off without a hitch or his name wasn't Egor pidapliapanafaya... wait... er... Gregory Samson... that one. Gee the sky was nice. The Roach took a second to center himself after a moment of playing brain scrabble, and then smacked the walk button on the cross walk, heading toward the establishment, and talking to Meld as he went. He figured she was keeping pace behind him as any good listener would. "Don't make it too neat or small or anything... we want it to be large, messy... We want it to be headline news... Everyone who knows them and what they do will know right away that they won't get away with it for any longer!" He twitched his antennae in determination as he make it across the street, and then headed towards the building's side- alley... soon they would be back behind the building, where they could plan out their first ambush; after that it would be like taking candy from a baby... and then eating the baby... yum...

He paused in mid step, and looked over to a palette of bug spray on the side of the building... his wings chittered in anger, and he caught himself before acting upon the wave of rage, instead strolling over, ripping a plank from the palette, and then turning to Meld. "Y'see? this is how you use your surroundings to your advantage... I'll use this to block the front door so's no one can escape. He nodded firmly, and then headed towards the back-alley once more.