Dark. Had she ever come back to herself after a wipe and been in a place so dark? Noel felt something warm and heavy leaning against her. Warm, heavy and breathing. She moved her hand from above her head to help her sit up, only... it stopped moving about 5 inches from where it had started and jangled when it pulled taut.

Handcuffs. Instantly panic flared up in her chest. The memorymancer couldn't help it, she moved both her hands and got the same jerking response from one. The other was free to whap the person who was leaning against her in something boney covered in squashy cartilage, a nose? maybe? "Sorry! Sorry." She whispered because... well the situation seemed to warrant a whisper.

Nothing came back to her. Nothing that warranted this anyway.

But they were moving. Because it was a they. One person leaning against her and one somewhere above her head. She was handcuffed to the someone above her head. There could have been more people in the vehicle, but she could only perceive two for now.

Little flickers of yellowish light dashed through a crack in some metal. She had to take charge somehow of the situation. If there was anything she should be good at, it was operating with some unknowns.

"H-hello?"

She tried to feel around and definitely tried to keep her hands in kosher places. She needed a bit more information before she could make a call on what to do next.

Sandwich.

That was all he could remember as he came to. Things around him were rattling. Specks of light got through. It was dark, and he was leaning, but the first thing he thought of was just that word: Sandwich.

Then, he got slugged. Hit. Hurt. Bashed. Slam-dunked in the face. Someone hated him, and that someone was who he was leaning on. How did the song go again? When you aren't strong? After getting hit like he'd gotten whapped, he figured most people wouldn't be strong.

... Not that he'd gotten hit hard, actually. As he tried to double over, he was stopped by chain.

Correction, chains. The reaction to pain was cut short by a 'huh?', quickly followed by an 'uh', a belligerent 'The Hell!?', and finally, reacting to a female voice and a questing 'Hello', to tie it all together... "Just what in the world is going on here. Are these... handcuffs? What was I up to...?"

He didn't usually get into kinky stuff like this. He was a good guy. Someone must have done something... and he had a feeling, whatever 'something' they'd done, it was illegal.

Aurum tugged both handcuffed wrists, hoping for a satisfying 'slap' of revenge. "Whatever situation this is, I want out."

Nothing. Zip. Ziltch. Zero. Nada.

Those were the thoughts that buzzed around inside Jorge’s head like a honeycomb filled with caffeinated honeybees. All there was before him was darkness, an endlessly void that consisted of dull colored geometric shapes with fluttered in and out of existence both in front and just of the corners of his range of vision.

“Urrrrgh….” He growled, actually growled as his body slowly started to return him to the land of the living. In the blackness behind his eyes he could have sworn that for just a moment he sounded like a bear. His mouth felt dry, his limbs were sore, and then…he winced when he felt the sudden tug on his arm and his hand smacked something fleshy he could not see.

Wait…what was that last one?

Jorge winced, his eyes fluttered as he let out another raspy breath that only tore at his dry throat some more. Very slowly his head moved as he tried to wake himself up some more, but as his consciousness slowly returned, he could hear voices around him…voices that did not sound happy.

>> “H-Hello?”

>> “"Whatever situation this is, I want out."

His mind followed those voices until finally his eyelids fluttered more and he awoke…into more darkness. But wait, there were vague shapes, the sounds of human breathing, and flashes of light through cracks in the middle of all this inky blackness here…but where was here? Why couldn’t he pull up that simple fact? Jorge tried to move as the panic of the situation seeped in. He couldn’t remember and he did not know where he was. That was a bad combination. And yet, as he tried to move, he felt the cool metal of something like a bracelet around one of his wrists, but attached to something heavy on the other end.

“What in god’s name…?” he muttered as he pulled his bound wrist again and heard someone respond none too favorably. “Sorry! Sorry…wait...” He gave another experimental tug and heard the jangle of a short chain and that, mixed with the cool metal sensation, and he realized what it was... “Handcuffs?”

He groaned as he tried to sit up, but found the movement only disoriented him more. He glanced in the direction of the voices.

“If someone doesn’t tell me what’s going on, I’m arresting all you…” he muttered through his rough, dry voice.

Great. Two men. As they spoke she had to correct herself. Two big babies. One, hopefully with a badge because who else would threaten an arrest?

"Yeah. I'm gonna assume these cuffs are your fault, Police. Kitten. Get off me." Her free hand, she used to help guide "kitten" off of her. Why kitten? Because his mind had instantly gone kinky rather than official when he found out he was cuffed. They seemed rather crammed together, but from the echo of their voices the area felt large. Noel reached a tentative hand out until she hit cardboard. Boxes. They were in some kind of freight vehicle.

She took a deep breath and then went through her check list using her hands to pat herself down even if that meant dragging another hand along for the ride. Noel touched her ears, her holster (empty. big surprise) and then fished around for her phone and ankle pouch. The phone was not in its proper place which sent a thrill of real panic through Noel, but the ankle pouch was still attached.

"Hey Police, check your holster. My gun is gone. Can anyone feel around? I had a phone too." They could have just jiggled out of place, right? Despite the fact that her holster had a snap closure...

In her ankle pouch she felt around. Everything felt untouched in there, (that map was hard to refold) though without some light she really couldn't tell if anything in there woud be helpful for taking off handcuffs. She usually kept a key... Noel cast around for where she usually kept that key and drew a blank. "Tell me you remember where your cuff key is..."

One of the people he was trapped in the dark with was male. From the sounds of it, he was a cop. He was with a cop in the dark, and him in two sets of handcuffs. This situation kept getting worse. Would he need to call Lonnie for a bail-out? Somehow, Aurum had the impression Lonnie really wouldn't care.

And 'kitten'. Seriously? Who was this woman calling him 'kitten'? Why was he cuffed to her? Was there a reason she was calling him... 'kitten'. His face twitched unpleasantly as he thought of reasons why. He really didn't like not knowing. He didn't like strange unknown women calling him 'kitten', either.

Aurum shifted off her as best he could. He steadied himself on something cardboard. Was it a box? What else could it have been?

His hand slapped against his chest as someone got to shifting. The information came in fast. The woman had once had a gun. The gun was gone now. The phone was gone, too.

Aurum's hands dropped to his pockets to check for a phone of his own (taking whatever connected limbs he could along for the ride with him). He came up empty.

"My wallet's still here, but... no phone." He noted helpfully. It wasn't really helpful, though. No, not at all.

>> “"Yeah. I'm gonna assume these cuffs are your fault, Police. Kitten. Get off me."

Jorge rolled his painful eyes in the dark as he reached down to touch the handcuffs. Immediately they felt wrong as he ran his fingers up them, accidentally touching the hand of a man, a man who seemed to be named Kitten. Apparently they were handcuffed together. How could this possibly get any better? He then ignored the thought as he went back to feeling around the cuff that was on his wrists. He shook his head, even though nobody could see him.

“Sorry, Boss Lady,” Jorge grumbled as he pulled his hand away from the cuffs and fully sat up. “These aren’t my handcuffs, their standard issue. Mine are higher graded.”

He sighed as he sat up, and tried to peer through the darkness. Apparently Kitten and Boss Lady were the only people here cause he could not make out the shapes of anyone else in this darkness. Except for the passing flash of lights, Jorge had no idea what to make of anything here? Where they in a freight train? The back of a semi-truck? After all there was way too much room to be in something like a van, but still, they were moving. That was definitely a bad sign, handcuffed together with your Highness and the naughty Kitten here, with no idea where they were going, or why they were there.

>> “"Hey Police, check your holster. My gun is gone. Can anyone feel around? I had a phone too."

Good idea, he thought as his reached into towards his holster with his free hand, only to find that it was void of any gun. His hands then began to check his other pockets but all he was finding was lint, a receipt and a couple of pennies of pocket change. Nothing at all that could resemble help in any way. His cellphone was gone, his gun was gone, even his own handcuffs were gone. He reached into his back pocket and found that his wallet too was still sound. It seemed as if it hadn’t been touched at all? Why would someone go through the trouble of bring them all him here, knocking him out, and take his…

He paused and thought for a second. He had no recollection what led him to be here. Why am I here? Jorge thought to himself. He tried to think about the last thing he could remember but was coming up with a blank. He did not know why they were here, or even any of the events that lead to this situation. It was all a blank. It was almost as if he had gone on a drinking bender, which he never has, and wound up in some “Hangover” situation.

He turned back into the darkness where Kitten suddenly announced he found his wallet too. He wanted to congratulate him on the useful find, but Jorge bit back his sarcasm and ran his free hand through his hair.

“Kitten, Boss Lady, can either of you remember anything before we ended up here?” he asked seriously.

Higher graded hand cuffs? What policeman footed the bill for higher grade cuffs? She was almost sure that the state wouldn't. Not unless they were without a doubt needed. Like when they took in that giant mutant...

"Ah. Are you MRC?" There was a real art to this being hand cuffed thing. She had to rely almost exclusively on the hand that was free. Her cuffed hand seemed to get jerked around without thought, landing sometimes on unknown spans of flesh.

Noel was glad it was dark. She swallowed and tried really hard not to think about where she was getting dragged while someone rummaged through his pockets. (Must have been Kitten. No utility belt. Unless Police was a plain clothes?) "Your badge? Is it secure?"

"It's no good trying to remember. If there is anything to remember you have a good hour before recovery without aid." And that was likely her fault. Not that she would name names here. "All we can do is move forward with what we do know. We are moving. We are handcuffed. The deprivation of senses is a way to exert control. Restriction of movement another. Relocation, disambiguation..." They had to have gotten on someone's bad side. Or... maybe she needed to get these two goofballs away from something and the only way to do that was... to take herself? Ah. Her head was hurting.

Noel pulled at one of Kitten's hands until she could use both hands to dab at her hair. His dangled somewhere in the vicinity of her face. She had been hit. There was sticky blood in her hair. Right. No need to panic.

She let him have his hand back.

"What are your names, what do you do? Let's start with the pieces we have." And maybe work together so that they could get the heck out of dodge.

One name surfaced in her thoughts and she quickly stuffed it way back down. No way. The man that gave her the facial scar had been hounded out of the country last she heard. And there was no reason to suspect these two had anything to do with that.

The cop brushed his hand as he checked the handcuffs, then gave the pronouncement. They weren't his handcuffs. They were all wearing someone else's cuffs. There was no key.

The motion of the vehicle was making him a little nauseous. Well, either the motion or the situation. He'd have to pick one. He hated choosing in situations like this...

Okay. So it was the situation. At least that had been an easy choice. Aurum had never been one to get carsick. Why was he even here? Two people, cuffs, darkness, motion... he wasn't the type to do this sort of thing either. He had more morals than that. More taste, more class. Had someone drugged him? He'd never been drugged before. And if they had, why couldn't he remember? Even a faint hint of memories leading up to the drugging would have remained, had he been in a bar. There was really nothing. These two didn't seem all too pleased about the situation either (kitten comment notwithstanding).

And he really, really didn't like being called 'kitten'.

The woman asked the cop questions. MRC... where had he heard of them before? Had he even heard...?

Nope. Nothing was coming back to me. Apparently, 'nothing' was the lady's deal... or at least, she sure knew a whole lot about it. "An hour...?" Aurum felt dumb asking. Why'd she know it when he didn't?

His hand moved due to someone else's efforts. This was beginning to become a habit. He made fists, and show his bowed head with a dark chuckle. This was ridiculous.

The fist brushed against face, hair. He felt blood. She'd been bleeding. Somebody had hurt her.

She returned his fist, asked names.

"Aurum Mellitus," He replied. That, he could answer. "Not Kitten, just so we're clear... I'm a lawyer..." Or a wannabe lawyer working with a real one. He stuck with the description that made him look better. Because looking good in the dark with mysterious strangers was important.

>> "All we can do is move forward with what we do know. We are moving. We are handcuffed. The deprivation of senses is a way to exert control. Restriction of movement another. Relocation, disambiguation..."

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine?” Jorge muttered as he replaced his wallet with the bulge of his badge back into his pocket.

The detective felt the motion of the vehicle as his eyes began to further adjust to the darkness they were entombed. Mixed in with the fact that he had no idea where he was, or even why he was here, an ominous feeling crept over him. He, or all of them, had to have pissed someone off a lot in order to have them all shoved into a vehicle and handcuff them together. But why? True, being a police officer puts one at risk of making lot of enemies, but he did not know either of these two people. They didn’t sound familiar at all. So why was he here?

>> "What are your names, what do you do? Let's start with the pieces we have.”

>> "Aurum Mellitus…Not Kitten, just so we're clear... I'm a lawyer..."

Jorge groaned as he felt a dull twinge in his neck and shoulder. He used his free hand to rub the kink he felt out and immediately noticed that the skin was raised into a very sore mound. Obviously a bruise was beginning to form and it seemed like it was a rather massive one. It was then he felt another dull pain radiate from the side of his jaw and he twitched slightly as he touched it -- another sore spot. Whatever had happened, apparently he had made someone very mad.

“Detective Jorge Cervantes, MRC division…” he replied as he touched the bruise on his shoulder once more before he decided to leave it alone. “I’d shake your hand if I could see you.”

He groaned, not an old man groan, but that of a man who had been on the receiving end of a whooping stick. He was sore and those bruises definitely did not help. All he could assume was that before there, there must have been a fight of some kind and one that did not end well for him. The thought made him wonder if the other members of his chain gang had any similar kind of wounds or such.

“Are either of you hurt in anyway? I feel some massive bruises on my shoulder and neck. I think we were on the losing end of a fight.”

Unless either of you did this to me… he thought.

The situation screamed that this was entirely her fault. There was absolutely no way se was telling them that. She'd get worse than a crack on the head next time. "Gage. Federal Bureau." She would have to be more careful in what she said since eye contact wasn't entirely an option at this point.

Lawyer wasn't exactly a lawyer, but MRC was what exactly what he claimed to be. Leave it to the policeman to tell the entire truth and the lawyer to twist it. “I’d shake your hand if I could see you.” New MRC recruit? Or touch resistant? Did he not know about common mutant paranoia about skin contact or was he too much a good ol' boy in blue? Police before mutant? It'd be nice if that were true. He'd be entirely more trustworthy.

She also opted not to answer the hurt question. She was fine now, but did't want to admit to bleeding. People were weird about blood and she didn't want them to think of her as hurt. Just in case.

"I'm standing up." That was more of a soft warning to Aurum (not kitten, upon his own insistence) who was attached to her.

She used her free hand against a box to steady herself and get a nice, wide stance. Once she was on her feet she felt a little more in command of herself and her situation. They seemed to be pretty close to a door of some kind. That was where the pulse of lights originated so she slid slow and steadily toward it until her free hand pushed against the flimsy metal barrier. A slowing of their vehicle's pace meant Noel's whole body got to meet the back door. They needed to get out of the vehicle before it reached it's intended destination.

Visually, she had noticed an exterior locking mechanism on 18 wheelers. She'd never really been inside one. If that's even what this was... Surely there was a release hatch somewhere. Noel tried to feel around for something. It was a better option than panicking.

Detective Guy was hurt.

Federal Bureau Gal was also hurt.

As for him? He was standing. She was standing, he was standing. They were standing, and he was fine. "As good as one could wish for in a situation like this..." Aurum replied 'positively'. The positivity reeked of sarcasm. He was alive. He wasn't injured, but... "We really need to do something about these cuffs..." There was the rub. While he was in good health now, navigating with the cuffs on their arms seemed to him a fine way for two absent-minded cop-fellows to rip him apart. "I like my arms. Please be careful tugging them." He muttered, eyes drifting towards the bits of light.

Even as he spoke, the woman on one of his arms was moving. She dragged him along for the ride. Along came the MRC officer (hopefully). Aurum gave his arm a tug, just to be sure he got his drift. "C'mon."

He reached the door, stopping next to her. Aurum fumbled around for a lock. Something clicked in the light-specked dark.

>> "Gage. Federal Bureau."

Federalies huh? Jorge thought to himself. To him the situation was extremely confusing but things had a definite interest about them. In his cop mindset, he tried to put pieces together. He imagined it almost like a giant puzzle laid out for him on a coffee table. He had a couple of the pieces labeled: Lost memory, Federal Agent, Lawyer, MRC Cop, Dark Moving Vehicle… but try as he might he could not get the whole picture. There were still too many pieces missing. For now this was the situation and he would have to stick with it until some sense was made from somewhere.

>> "C'mon."

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered as he sorely began to follow them. Why was his knee sore now too?

The detective said nothing but instead followed the little group towards the back of the moving vehicle. The flashes of outside light were the only thing that illuminated the darkness but it was enough for him to catch at least some physical description of the group he was with. The woman, the Fed was shorter than their group and she was already trying to find something on the door. Probably the handle or some other way of opening it. The man handcuffed between them (poor guy) was the tallest and stood a few inches higher than Jorge. This was definitely going to prove awkward if they could not get out of these handcuffs.

Then he heard the click! The lawyer, Aurum, stumbled across something. Jorge could only hope it was of some use, but as he placed his hand against the door, he felt that familiar surge and tug coming from outside. He glanced in the dark towards the supposed locations of his two comrades.

He hated revealing his mutation but desperate times and all…

“Listen you two, I feel a lot of water out there.” he whispered to them. After a moment of pausing, making sure he did feel as much as he thought he did, he explained. “I’m a water manipulator. I can feel when there is water within twenty feet of me, whether it be in bottles, pipes, whatever. I’m feeling a lot of it out this door…”

Someone had a success. Noel touched the door and listened to the cop. Water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink. Noel gave the door a good shove. She had less than an hour to disengage herself from these people. Less than an hour before they realized at least part of this was her doing.

She would also like to know why. This wasn't exactly normal for her... as far as she could remember.

The door had some give like one of the other two had gotten a bottom lock but not a top. That should be easy to remedy. Noel pulled up her leg and gave the flimsy door a good flat footed breaking down the door smash.

It clattered open.

There was no ground to land on, on the other side of the door. Not any that wasn't moving anyway. And there was the small matter of being handcuffed to Aurum while tumbling out the backside of a moving vehicle. Time for wide eyes.

She should have just asked the cop to water magic the doors.

Well, that was convenient. The cop could sense water. Water meant they weren't on an open road with flesh-ripping pavement whipping by... unless it was by a lake, or any large body of water... why couldn't he think positive more often?

Oh right. Positive-thinking was for wimps.

The woman hauled back a leg and kicked the door out.

It hit moving concrete, grating against it. Sparks flew. Do you know what else flew?

Them.

"Oh. Crap!!" Aurum shouted. He tucked in his arms and braced himself, eyes snapping shut as the group tumbled free of the moving vehicle, straight for the stationary metal door.

Fwump. Grate. Hissssss.

Bodies tumbled, hit door metal, and bruised. The woman, then the lawyer, then the police officer, formed a sandwich. Aurum grunted as he took the weight to his back, bit his lip, and grimaced. "I'm alive..." It could have been worse. His tone didn't sound happy it hadn't been better.

Rule number one when handcuffed to three complete strangers in the back of a moving vehicle? Never fall out of the back of said vehicle.

Jorge watched, wide-eyed as the seconds ticked by like hours. He could not believe this was happening and wanted to shout out at them, but before he could say anything, the door was kicked open they were assaulted by the scent of fresh, rapidly whipping air. After a moment of blindness, he felt the tug on the chain and regained his sight. The second he did, he had wished they were still sitting peacefully in the back of the vehicle.

First the woman went tumbling out, her eyes wide with shock at the realization that kicking open the back door of a moving vehicle was a bad idea.

Next went the lawyer followed by some choice words that perfectly described his predicament.

After him…

“No, No!” Jorge wanted to brace himself, to try to keep them from falling out but he reached out for support from the inside of the vehicle too late. Before his fingers could grasp onto something, anything, he felt the tug.

To be honest, even if the detective had managed to grab onto something, it would not have done him any good. The combined weight of the shorter woman and the very tall lawyer would be too much for him to stop. Had he been able to even attempt it, they more than likely would have simply popped his arm right out of his socket. Jorge was strong but he was not strong enough to bring two adults attached to his arm to a sudden stop out of a moving vehicle. All he could do was close his eyes and pray.

There was the tug and Jorge could only let go.

The air rushed past his ears as gravity pulled him down a like an overzealous mother retrieving her newborn baby. Jorge gasped for a second, the freefall for that moment sent a tickle up his spine, but that sensation was replaced by a loud THUD!! followed by a massive flat iron of pain from the suddenly hitting the ground. All the air escaped his lips and for that moment all he could hear was the rush of blood as it pounded inside his skull. At least his heart was still pumping after that fiasco. He moaned, trying to ignore the pain but realized something odd as he tried to move. Funny, the ground felt squishier than solid asphalt. It still hurt, it hurt a lot, but he was sure something would have been broken. And…why was the ground moaning?

It was then he noticed that he was lying back on the lawyer…who in turn was on top of the woman. He quickly moved off them both.

“Are you two out of your minds? he muttered as he sat back and moved as far as his handcuffed wrist could allow.

>> “I’m alive…”

Jorge rose a brow and tried to push the pain he felt down. He would deal with being hurt later.


“Congratulations Dr. Frankenstein.” he muttered as he moved a little closer to make sure the pair of them were okay.

He glanced at the lawyer and offered to help him up as he looked under him, at the woman. He eyed her face closely and made the realization that he not know the human face could make an expression like that. She was definitely going to feel this pain in the morning.