In the midst of the gunfire, curses and dying screams Zephyr remained silent, an expression of detached interest almost indiscernible on his ethereal features as he watched the fighting below. Isabel's entrance had been suitably impressive and the hessian had felt a moments amusement with the shocked silence which had followed before chaos had broken loose. He'd even experienced a certain satisfaction when the brunette speared the moronic Foot leader.

Those had been the only highlights of the rather one sided affair thus far though, he'd never really possessed any substantial form of blood lust and so his partners progress generated little more than detached idle interest. He'd wished a few people dead of course and dispatched quite a few he didn't for rather lucrative sums, however the nature of his abilities meant that he rarely needed to get close to a target to complete such assignments

It was difficult to generate any form of emotional investment in a death you often times didn't see or hear and in his early days he'd been contracted frequently enough that he'd become desensitized quite quickly. Isabel on the other hand well- Zephyr resisted the urge to sigh as he tracked her progress- she preferred a rather more hands on approach.

After demonstrating her resiliency to conventional munitions Isabel had swiftly swept through the front ranks of The Foot, her skeletal limbs allowing her to move far faster than she might otherwise have done and tear through any attempted resistance with consummate ease. The bonemancers pace was such that she'd quickly left the elementals field of vision and disappeared amongst the darkened stacks of shipping crates, her presence largely discernable by abruptly silences screams.

He couldn't fault the girls results, she'd done more or less as he'd instructed, and she seemed to enjoy her work, though whether that was advantageous was debatable. If there was one criticism he had of the shapely soubrette though it was her lack of efficiency; she was doing over the course of minutes now what the elemental felt she could have accomplished in seconds. In a word, she was being sloppy.

He'd read reports of the pharmaceutical fiasco over a year ago, seen more than a few images of the immense blockade of bone which had burst into existence and secured the besieged factory against any intrusion from police or SWAT. It was clear that Isabel had prodigious reserves of calcium to draw upon, yet she chose to limit herself to melee tactics despite displaying an affinity for ranged attacks.

Shaking such thoughts from his mind the elemental shifted his focus elsewhere, closing his eyes as he turned his attention outwards to his spatial awareness and began searching for any remnants Isabel might have missed. One of the advantages of the ethereal state was that, the greater the degree of completion, the more accurate his aerial perception became and thus he quickly located a small handful of figures huddled quietly behind a blind corner formed by the cargo containers, each of their weapons ready for any unfortunate soul who happened their field of fire.

With a resigned sigh Zephyr left his unofficial post and began to make his way towards the ill fated individuals with idle mutters about his companions lack of thoroughness echoing in the back of his thoughts. Incorporeality was a largely defensive state and it limited his other skills to no small degree, however until the echoes of gunfire finally died away he had no intention of becoming solid again anytime soon. He was still capable of dealing with such remnants, provided they didn't run; his speed was somewhat lacking in his current form, it would simply be more of a chore than it would otherwise.

Isabel was practically fuming. She wasn't supposed to be covered in her on blood in such quantities. Little scrapes and gouges, sure. She wasn't completely bullet-proof. But any big patches of red on her person was supposed to belong to someone else. That little cockroach was so gonna get it. She just had to find him first.

Mumbling and grumbling as she wiped her bloodied fingers off on any clean patches of fabric on her skirt and stalked back toward the area she'd first seen the young man with the gun.

Of course he wasn't here she'd left him. She hadn't maimed him just yet, so he could still move well enough and was apparently smart enough to have done so. It would be such a pain trying to find him within all the storage crates littered around the shipping yard. Especially if her companion continued to sit back and watch, wherever he was, the useless je-

Bang!

She practically kissed the pavement she dropped so fast in an attempt to dodge the bullet, wherever it had come from. Rubbing at the stinging gouge in her shoulder, she stood back up and quickly looked around, trying to locate the idiot playing hide-and-shoot. Fine. He wanted to play games, she could make things more interesting.

Wherever any corridor-like space between crates ended, she planted a row of barbed spikes into the pavement, each tall enough that someone would have to go up and over them to pass, which the barbs would make very difficult, if not impossible. She was going to box the guy in, as well as any others she happened to cross paths with. It was just a matter of time.

Patience wasn't really her thing, but she could manage it if she was playing a game she liked, and she always liked the kind of game that ended in bloodshed. Of course she hadn't quite anticipated losing so much of her own. The guy managed to get a few shots in while she was working on blocking the exits. Her shoulder and side had been hit and he'd managed to get a shot on one of her thighs. However, she was going to get him in the end.

And so she did.

It took some time but she finally managed to corner him through her use of bone barricades and the obstacles made by bodies and pieces of bodies, wherever they so happened to fall. She didn't waste any more time playing with the little pest. She didn't know how many bullets his gun could hold and she didn't need to give him a clear shot of her chest or skull. So as soon as she found him trying to find his way out of a dead end, she unleashed a few of her own brand of bullets and put an end to their little game.

Pausing beside two freshly dismembered cadavers Zephyr drew a slow breath as he lifted his hand and carefully removed his influence, allowing air to revert to flesh, only to frown slightly when he felt something amiss. A moment later his entire figure had reformed and he struggled to ignore the collective pains of his body as he stared down at the raw pink flesh of his hand with no small amount of concern as he forced unusually stiff fingers to form a fist.

A disadvantage of the ethereal form the hessian was swiftly coming to recognize was the transformation could only be initiated with substances in the same state. That is to say, he needed to be corporeal himself before he could render something insubstantial and vice versa. It was something of an annoyance but he’d managed to circumvent it by simply changing a portion of himself, such as a hand, and then supporting the regained flesh with a stiff frame of air and using it transform other objects while keeping the majority of his form ethereal.

Cheating the system in such a way came with a price however, while incorporeal there was a distinct lack of definition surrounding the extremities; making it difficult to ascertain precisely where his own essence ended and inanimate air began. If he were overly careless with his transformations it would be far too easy to lose pieces of himself whilst maintaining his aeriform state. It wouldn't be as noticeable as what had occurred with his hand, but he could readily envision it as a gradual erosion which would eventually accumulate into something significant.

He had no desire to see where that would lead.

"W-what the f*ck kind of freak are you?!"[/color]

Lifting his azure gaze from his damaged hand Zephyr glanced at the bleeding form slumped in the shadows of the dead end formed by the shipping crates. The Latino youth couldn't have been over twenty, yet he'd not only noticed the elementals approach but also managed to shout a warning and had the presence of mind to try and dodge. As a result the youth had managed to keep most of his arm while his two companions now sported rather prominent holes in the center of their chests.

Unfortunately the young man had nowhere left to run and the injury on his arm had caused him to drop his weapon which now rested out of his reach. Judging from the amount blood which was rapidly spreading across the ground the Latino thug would be lucky to last another five minutes. In these types of circumstances however the hessian disliked leaving any lose ends; in a city like this little was guaranteed. Better to give the luckless grunt a quick death.
Reaching a decision Zephyr forced himself to fade back into the air, taking care to craft a distinct boundary about his ethereal essence as he did so. The last thing he saw before his vision dispersed into a dull haze were the rapidly widening eyes of the olive skinned youth.

'No! S-stay the f*ck away from me! S-sh*t. Sh*t. Somebody HEL-"[/color]

An insubstantial hand swept over a shaved head and the scream died as a gaping wound replaced a considerable section of skull, shortly followed by the wet thud of something unpleasant hitting the ground.

The difficulty in shifting from flesh to air is learning how to loosen the body's bonds without breaking them, being able to unravel a form but leaving the basic design intact so that it could be remade. If you took a brute force approach and performed the transformation without regard, you would still succeed, in a way. A solid substance would now be air, when it came to reforming however the underlying architecture would be damaged or missing and you would simply be left with the components.

In short, if you weren't careful you could tear someone apart.

Taking another slow breath Zephyr again allowed himself to reform before then examining his other hand and felt no small amount of satisfaction when he saw that it was completely unmarked. The elemental had always prided himself on the control he held over his mutation and so it was gratifying to see positive results for his latest skill. Still, although he now had a fair grasp on the basic principles of the transformation he would need to practice in order to ensure he got into the habit of keeping a tight rein on his incorporeal form and keeping it separate from the ethereal essence of others.

How fortunate that Isabel's somewhat inefficient efforts left him with ample opportunity to do so.

Wiping her hands off on her not-so-clean skirt, Isabel irritably gave the sniper's body a swift kick before strolling away from the messy pile she'd left it in. Idiot. Don't people ever learn that it's not a good idea to mess with someone like her? They were in the crime business, they should certainly know better than to mess with a higher ranking felon. Especially one that could gut them like fish.

She didn't seem to be getting shot at so frequently anymore, which meant whoever might have been left in the area had either fled, were lying on the ground bleeding to death, or were already dead. She didn't care so much about any escapees. The worst that could happen was the word got out that she was involved in a little gang scuffle and a few idiots might show up try and get back at her. In her mind, that would be nothing more than a little continuation of her current fun.

Strolling back through the crates, reabsorbing the makeshift barriers she'd erected, she set about to find he business partner. He had to be around somewhere. Just because she hadn't seen him during her maulings didn't mean he'd disappeared. He was the one that had dragged along to get rid of the problem, after all. He was just a bag of hot air that wanted to talk all damn day, so she didn't really expect to see him getting involved and getting his hands dirty.

It was easier to find him once someone had started screaming.

With a sigh she changed direction and head toward whoever was making so much noise and paused a short distance off just in time to see some sort of pink mass hit the pavement and her companion materialize in front of the now quiet individual with a hole in his skull. Well, now she knew why she hadn't spotted him in some time.

"Are we done now?" she piped up, placing a hand on her hip just below the bullet would that had begun to leak a bit of crimson around her makeshift patch. She allowed that, seeing as it was probably better to let it drain a little than have everything backing up and potentially causing internal issues later on when she'd dropped in to visit the Sanctuary healer. "Pretty sure I got just about everyone. I'm starting to get bored."

Proficiency comes from practice, yet repetition eventually inspires ennui. It was a general form of cognitive dissonance which Zephyr well knew. Despite what some might claim, determination and willpower could only keep one focused for so long before the mind began to actively seek out distractions and thereby render productivity little more than a fallacy.

In short, avoid over exerting yourself when possible.

It was a simple piece of advice, but one the elemental generally tried to abide by, even more so when dealing with potentially lethal activities. Working to the point of collapse was an overly quixotic notion which only seemed agreeable until the first unforeseen and unpleasant hindrance arose, at which point the fatuity of excessive fatigue quickly became all too apparent.

Thus, when he noticed that his recalcitrant companion was beginning to make her way towards him through the imbroglio of carelessly strewn cargo containers, the azure eyed hessian decided to call an end to his extempore experimentation once he’d dealt with his last unwilling test subject. Annoyingly however the elementals speed whilst incorporeal was less than impressive and by the time he’d finally managed to corner the man Miss Duskmoor had all but followed the dying screams to their source.

"Are we done now? I’m pretty sure I got just about everyone. I’m starting to get bored."[/color]

Glancing back over his shoulder at the shapely brunette Zephyr shrugged and dissembled his irritation. He’d had no intention of showcasing his ethereal form to anyone still breathing but the soubrette had arrived just as he’d regained solidity, ideally the lack of any proper light would have masked his reappearance however he couldn’t be certain how much the girl had seen and he didn’t plan on asking. He would simply have to affect an indifferent affectation to avoid drawing any further attention to his latest trick and hope it slipped the gamines mind.

“A handful managed to get away but I suppose they don’t matter in the long run.” If nothing else they’d spread rumours about a new character with a distinctive accent capable of calling down both fire and a certain bellicose bonemancer.

Turning to face his companion properly Zephyr paused for a moment to regard the girl as he noticed the slow drip of blood coming from her skirt and a momentary frown crossed his features but he ultimately decided not to call attention to it. Either the ingénues last victim had met a particularly macabre end or she’d actually been wounded, whatever the case any direct comments were unlikely to be welcome and so he chose a different tact as he strode level with the girl and then began to lead her out of the poorly crafted maze.

“The police will likely be here soon, there was enough commotion to warrant someone calling them. Are you planning on waiting for them? I’ll be leaving regardless but it’s been some time since you last toyed with them if I recall correctly.”

Isabel gave a shrug, absently tugging at the wet fabric sticking to her side while her bossy companion pointed out that she'd missed a few people on he rounds. She didn't particularly care. She counted on them being smart enough to leave her be once they'd settled down back in whatever holes they had crawled out of earlier in the day. She was much more concerned about how gross wet clothing felt when it was pressed against her skin. Ick.

With a sigh she brushed her fingers against her outfit again in a mostly fruitless attempt to get rid of the blood that had transferred from the wetter area of her shit and skirt over onto her digits. She needed a shower and then a nap. She was getting very tired all of a sudden. Or maybe she'd been tired before and was only just noticing it now that she was standing still. In any case she was realizing that she was tired and her side really hurt and she was getting just the littlest bit lightheaded. She wanted to go home and have a nap. Maybe sleep through until the following afternoon.

"I don't want to play with the cops tonight. I'm bored. They're boring. I'd rather find something else to do." Of course she wouldn't tell him that the something else she wanted to do was curl up and relax back at the Sanctuary. She was a tough girl, she could take care of herself, and she'd be damned if she let the young man think otherwise.

Advancing at a rather sedate pace Zephyr endeavored to project an affectation of indifference as he progressed through the shipyard and occasionally glanced at the soubrette beside him from the corner of his eyes. The voluptuous brunette had become progressively listless and lethargic since they'd taken their leave of the cargo area and was showing no signs of improving. Her entire stance signaled exhaustion and considering the worryingly steady trail of fresh blood the girl was leaving it was little wonder why.

The gamine was injured, that much was clearly evident even if the bonemancer wouldn't broach the subject herself, quite likely out of some form of stubborn pride. Granted the girl had a degree of advanced healing if the manner in which she tore out her bones was any indication yet at the present it didn't seem to be able cope with her current wounds, or else, was doing so far too slowly to be of any real use.

Although his medical knowledge was somewhat lacking the hessian hazarded that the weary hoyden had perhaps another ten minutes before she simply collapsed, at which point she'd be just a breath away from becoming literal dead weight. All in all it left the elemental with an interesting choice he hadn't expected to have.

The first and easiest option was simply to let the girl succumb to her wounds, she'd repeatedly demonstrated her disdain for him throughout the evening, had been continuously disagreeable and would likely dismiss any assistance he tried to give. It would cost the mercenary nothing to just watch the brunette fall, in fact given the bounty that was still on her head he possibly stood gain a slight amount from her demise. All he needed to do was keep walking.

Alternatively he could save the soubrettes life. While not as immediately tempting a choice as the first option it had the potential to pay significant dividends in the future. Despite her poor behaviour the bonemancer had, more or less, carried out the task she'd been given and she'd done it for a fraction of the price the hessian himself had received. She was also, in a word, capable. Zephyr knew of few individuals, mutants included, who possessed both the ability and the willingness to perform as Miss Duskmoor just had and walk away breathing.

Furthermore, should he actually manage to get the girl medical attention it was quite possible her attitude towards him would change, thereby removing one of the main points in her disfavour and, ideally, rendering any future contracts between the two of them far more agreeable.

In essence it all came down to whether he was willing to sacrifice limited but certain short term gains now, for far greater but less reliable rewards in the future. It was the quintessential question faced by those on Wall Street everyday and it was one Zephyr was well accustomed too as he watched the brunette half stumble for the second time and considered whether she was worth the effort.

A few moments passed and as the soubrette tripped over her feet for the third time the elemental allowed a long suffering sigh to escape his lips. Stepping back to the girl side the hessian unceremoniously took her arm and placed it over his shoulders, tensing for only a moment in anticipation of spiking pain, before proceeding to pull the enervated ingénue along when none was forth coming.

Blood loss was severely irritating. Isabel was getting increasingly tired by the minute and it had become a major chore to follow after her companion once he'd begun his exit out onto the street, nevermind trying to keep up with him. Especially when her legs felt so heavy and didn't seem to want to cooperate very much. She kept tipping over her own feet, increasingly frustrating her and making her want to just sit down and do nothing for a while.

Her side was really starting to hurt as well. She was doing her best not to touch the tender area, but even just waking was starting to strain the muscles as they tensed up, especially whenever she had to catch herself after a stumble. Stupid vermin and their stupid guns.

She gave a huff when the young man ahead of her sighed after she tripped again. She'd like to see him try walking off a gunshot wound like the one she had. She bet he couldn't do it half as well as she was managing. Grumpy jerk. He could just keep walking for all she cared. She could find her way back to the Sanctuary easily enough.

What she hadn't expected as for him to double back and start helping her along. In normal circumstances she was far too proud to be assisted in such a way, and she attempted to make such things known by trying to tug her wrist out of his grip and wriggle away as her arm was slung around his shoulders. However, she was much too tired to struggle for more than a handful of seconds, so with a sigh matching the one he'd given a moment before she conceded to his assistance.

She knew it would take forever to get anywhere at the pace they were going, and apparently so did he. It took a few minutes but they were eventually able to find a parked car whose owner had left a spare key tucked away in one of the visors and piled in. She of course tried to insist that she'd be driving but with some persuasion on his end she grumpily climbed into the passenger seat and settled in to relay directions to the Sanctuary for him to follow.

A trip to the Infirmary to visit one of the resident healers was top priority once she'd gotten back home. Then a shower and bed. She didn't care what he did or where he went. She was too run down to bother worry about that kind of thing.