The sound of the wood shattered and breaking glass and grunts of pain assaulted the ringing in Jorge’s ears as he flew through the remains of a broken, elegant door frame. The second his body collided with the wood, it gave way, splitting into jagged splinters of boards and revealing the rotten, degraded condition it was currently in. In this old, rotting away apartment complex, much of the structure shared the exact same features as this single door frame. The wallpaper was blackened with dirt, beams and juts of wood were sticking out of the walls, even the floors looked ready to give way at any moment. Why any sane man would willingly walk into a building on the verge of being condemned was utterly beyond reason. Unfortunately Detective Cervantes was not the sanest of mortals when it came to doing his job.

It was because of his job that the waterbending mutant found himself soaring backward through the open air of the long abandoned apartment. Crashing through a rotten away door frame, sending shards of glass and bits of wood flying through his wake, the detective could only feel the spider-web of pain as his shot throughout his body from several points that all converged into a blanket that wrapped around his body. The central point of his pain emanated from his jaw where a single punch had been the culprit that sent his soaring. It was one hell of a punch.

But sooner or later, as much force as what had been applied behind that punch that sent Jorge flying so regally, eventually gravity would prove the lord and master above all.

Crash! Crunch! SLAM!

“Oof! Gawd!” the detective groaned in pain. “N-Not…my…day…”

Jorge had felt the sudden impact of crashing onto the littered, stinking of mold floor as he ground to a halt and slammed into anything behind him. The detective moaned as he lay there, dazed for a second but finally forcing himself to roll onto his side. The sound of crunching glass echoed up to his ears as he felt each shard break under the weight of his movements, but he could not concern himself with getting a cut right now. That was the least of his problems. The pain was throbbing from every which direction and the Jorge was definitely not feeling up to his best. That was the effect when a man was punched in the jaw by a raging mutant.

“Yo, Pig! Where are ya?!” snorted a thick, animalistic voice.

Jorge groaned as he felt for his gun and knew that it was somewhere lost back in the other room. Definitely not good. He still could not believe how all this had started…

It was a simple chase. Couple of robbers were caught breaking into an appliance store and running out with whatever they could get their hands on. Detective Cervantes happened to be the closest responding officer so he gave chase on foot. He figured it would be easy enough to handle them. After all he had spotted neither of them with a gun, only one carried a crowbar. It would have been a good joke around the MRC office water cooler. But, as always, there was more to it. As he followed them into his apartment building, he had no idea that the pair of robbers were merely flunkies of a mutant thug who went by the name Razorback.

Razorback had been on the MRC Most Wanted for awhile now. He was not hard to miss; tall, muscular beast of a man that looked as if he could lift a semi. But what made him truly a brute was that fact that the mutant had the face and features of a boar. Long, yellowed tusks jutted out from his bottom jaw, while his body was covered with a thick mass of brown fur, as well as a black mane that ran down the length of his back. He was a terror to behold…and apparently one that Jorge was not up to handling alone.

“Come on, Pig!” Razorback ironically snorted as he threw over an abandoned desk and sent it into a wall. “I’m not through with you!”

Jorge coughed and tasted blood as he forced himself up to a sitting position. So far he was not in the best of situations. He had no radio contact, his phone was gone, his gun was gone, and try as he might, he was only getting the scarcest sense of water around. He was definitely a man without a plan and, let’s face it, way up a creek without a paddle.

A quick intake of breath and Jorge forced himself to move to his feet. He groaned with each step but tried to keep himself silent enough as to not alert his assailant as to his whereabouts. Jorge wiped blood from the corner of his mouth as he limped to a corner of the room and found a hole in the rotten away wall that lead into the apartment next door. He ducked down, slipped inside and looked for something, anything to defend himself. His eyes settled on a discarded wrench.

Mutely he shook his head as he leaned down and snatched it up. It was heavy and though it would easily break the skull of a normal man, he doubted it would hurt Razorback much.

“Better than nothing,” Jorge mumbled as he hefted up the wrench and began to circling back. All the while he attempted to figure some way to get himself out of this miss and away from the rampaging mutant and his two flunkies.

As he sat perched on a fire escape, sweat trickled into Garrett's eye, burning it. As sleek as the leathery suit was at night, during the day it was an oven. And it was only April. He'd definitely have to work on something that was lighter and easier to work with. He had been watching the appliance store for a while. Normally, a shop such as this would blend into the background. However, this time it was inhabited by Razorback and two of his cronies.

He was a great beast of a mutant, carrying the tusks and demeanor of his namesake. The cronies had to be human wannabes, since Razor wasn't the type to let anyone one up him. Of course, there was always the possibility of one of them being on M. It would make sense in the presence of such a monstrous thug. A sedan pulled up at the edge of the block with enough of a sudden stop that it had to be cops. He saw one get out, most likely a detective. He didn't recognize him from MRC, but RUPERT's dealings with MRC was on the periphery at best. So was Garrett.

Or in this case, Seizure. He wiped the sweat from his face before pulling the doll-like mask over his face. He watched the glass door once the man went in, gun drawn. The silent pause seemed to stretch forever, though it probably only lasted a minute. As if it were made of toilet paper, the door to the shop exploded out as Razorback charged through into the street, his toadies on his heels. The cop didn't miss a beat, giving chase and barking orders. Garrett slid down the fire escape ladder as soon as the group had passed him, staying as incognito as a man in a full leather bondage outfit with a seven foot bullwhip could be.

He had been doing his own bit of surveillance, watching Razor and his minions hole up in the condemned tenements. He was going to wait until nightfall, but they were getting antsy. Come to think of it, the minions were shooting something, but he had assumed it to be heroin. Hopefully it was. At least he had a reason to act now, to move from the easy world of plotting and planning to the harder, yet more exciting, world of doing.

Entering the lobby, he could hear chaos somewhere higher up as Razor was no doubt throwing large objects around. That cop had his hands more than full and Seizure was more than happy to be the equalizer. There was no power to the building. Even if there had been, the elevator looked older than he was, so stairs and sweat it was. His black leather head with the rich red stitches poked out of the door nearest the noise. His eyes closed so his ears could extend down the halls. Razor and the cop and one other to the right. One on the left. A smile crept over the vigilante's face from beneath the leather.

With little reason to sneak, he walked down the hall, clearly standing in the door frame, looking at one of the cronies as he was loading a pistol. In the moment the man turned, his face became one of both fear and surprise, drawing another smirk from Seizure. the next look was a familiar one, as the man's face scrunched up in a landscape of pain and neural misfiring. And then he took a little nap. Fingering the pistol's steel, his head cocked like a bird. Effective, but so obtuse.

The sound of splintering wood snapped him out of his little daydream. He did think to grab it anyway, the gun. Kept it out of the enemies hands and more importantly, lack of eloquence or not, bullets could be the only thing to take down a wild boar. The gun slid into the belt, placed in the small of his back. Garrett tried to focus his hearing again, but the gratuitous crashing and smashing only assaulted his ears, leaving him shaking his head to clear up the cobwebs. He moved into the corner by the door in case the other human came back to check on the wayward other.

Jorge took a shaky breath as he stood, his back pressed against the wall, the heaviness of the metal wrench weighing own his hand. Never before had the police officer been in such a bind and he was definitely in a bind. But it all came with the territory of doing his job. Eventually he should have known that something like this would have happened. The only thing he could really do right now was make sure he did not panic or lose his head. The ball was in the criminal’s court for now, but he had to find a way to flip those odds. There had to be way. The hope was slim to practically non-existent but it was something to grab onto at least.

He would make it out of this alive. If not for himself, then definitely for Gemma.

His breathing dropping to into a shallow and quiet tone, the detective remained still as he listened to the footsteps in the room behind him. He could hear the thick, snorting intake of breath from Razorback as he sought him out. Luckily the behemoth had poor eyesight or he would have noticed the hole in the wall that separated these two rooms. Jorge needed a moment, whatever time he could get to rack his brain for a plan or some mode of attack…

…speaking of which, where were those two cronies of the mutant’s? The last Jorge remembered was that when he chased them in here, Razorback took most of his focus. The fight started and the right before he was punched and sent hurtling through a door, Jorge remembered vaguely that the two thugs were still around. If that were true, they would be hunting for him as well. The only thing he could do was take things as quietly as possible, and overtake them one at a time. There was no way he was going to hold up against the group together, at least not without a source of water nearby. Unfortunately the condemned building no longer had any running water. That definitely limited his choices.

God what he would not have given for a good rain. Sadly, it was a bright, shiny day outside. That was going to make things more difficult.

Another intake of breath and Jorge began to move away from the hole in the wall. The snorting, sniffing sound of Razorback as he hunted the detective like a truffle made a shiver go up his spine. The mutant had gone quiet, which was not a good thing. Did he have his scent already? Was this room he was in going to suddenly converged on by everyone. The hardened detective did not like just sitting around waiting so he finally made the move. Instantly…he dashed for the door out.

“Gotcha!!” bellowed the muscle bound mutant as a sudden crack could be heard on the other side of the wall.

The plaster and wallpaper split as rotten boards broke outward, leaving little to not resistance against the behemoth of a mutant. Razorback was halfway into the room in a manner of seconds but as he struggled to pull himself through the slowly widening opening he made, Jorge took the opportunity to take at least one hit in.

“Yo!” Jorge shouted, from the wall directly next to the hole that Razorback had made. “Never stick your nose in where it’s not wanted!!”

Jorge swung fast and hard. The wrench practically whistled through the air as he swung with a high arch, aiming for any soft spot he could find on the massive creature. The second the metal tool struck, Jorge could feel the skin and muscle underneath give away, as well as the sound of a sickening crack as bone began to shatter. Jorge watched as the end of the wrench sunk into the beast’s eye and broke the eye socket around it. Unfortunately it was something that was not going to fully halt the rampaging Razorback for long. Instead, while the beast shrieked in complete and utter pain, Jorge took the opportunity to run.

Wrench still in hand, though now with blood and what could only be described as “eye-goop” on the end of the tool, Jorge dashed for the door that lead back out into the hallway. There was not need to grab the hand because the second he touched the edge of the door, it immediately gave way, slipping open. Thankfully no one came rushing out, but with the sounds of a half-blinded, in pain, angry beyond all belief mutant from behind urged him to dash out into the hall.

His senses began to balance out after the dizzying cacophony. Garrett was more than annoyed at the leather of the suit as it slipped over him like a loose set of second skin with his sweating. Looked great, if that counted for anything. He had to take the mask off. It was just too hot. The sudden release of the heat trapped in the mask relieved him. The cop would just have to over look his identity. It's not like there was some kind of rulebook for costumed vigilantes, anyway, so no rules were being broken.Crouching against the wall, hands on knees, he took a few precious moments to breathe and cool down, rampaging mutant or not.

Stepping out into the hall, he could hear someone saying something about noses, his head still a bit swimmy from the heat. A solid cracking thud was heard, a resounding howl of pain following it. wiping a small river from his face, he pulled his gloves free and tucked them into his belt, the strange stitched mask still in his other hand. No rest for the wicked was the mantra for the day as crony number two appeared from a nearer door, his back to the manipulator. The guy had a crowbar in his hand and started to move toward the chaos when Garrett simply said, " Hold up."

It obviously caught the guy by surprise, his body 's movement confused for a moment. Turning, his hand raised with the iron shaft gripped solidly in it. "What are you supposed to be, freak?" Garrett didn't have an answer. Be it the heat, the confusion of the moment, or just his own wobbly mind, he let the coil slip free of the bullwhip, its weight hitting the floor. The thug snickered, " Hey man, it ain't that kind of party. Unless you dig pain." The crowbar raised as the guy wore a smug smirk. The whip traveled the distance between them, curling up and catching him just under the chin, blood forgetting to flow for a moment wit the speed of the attack.

" As a matter of fact..." He sprinted toward the target, who was reeling from the shock of the leather's bite. In a pushing tackle, Garrett was on tyop of him, his ungloved hand touching his cheek, the map of the pulsating wound glowing and magnifying in an instant. " I do dig pain. How about you?" His own mutation channeled into the wound, magnifying its pain until the man's jaw began to shiver in spasms, tears immediately streaming from his eyes as his breathing quickened.

Footsteps ahead. Hand still pushing pain, Garrett looked down the hall to see the cop, no worse for the wear, running from the room where Razorback howled. The gore drenched wrench in his hand told the tale. Garrett had used his one good quip, the realization that he wasn't wearing his mask just irritating the piss out of him. Vigilante unmasked, day one. Oh well. " Need some help?"

The angry sounds of the hulking, boar-like mutant behind Jorge was what forced him out into the hallway. Holding the wrench tightly in hand, he could feel the heavy weight and knew that this was going to be his only savior. He still could not sense any usable water sources around and he had no idea where he dropped his gun. Instead he was going to have to rely on training and ingenuity to get him out of this mess. At least he hoped that it would. Thankfully Jorge did not rely too much on his abilities at work. If he needed to fight, he knew how to fight. He just doubted that a fist was going to do much good against that hulking behemoth.

But, he could not think about that right now. He needed to focus on getting out of here alive, as well as keeping those criminals from running off. Tall order for a police detective with only a wrench at his side…but he did not have any options.

Once in the hall, Jorge had to pause as he came across a strange fight. On the ground was one of the thugs he had been chasing, but there was another mass of shiny blackness on top of him. It took a second for the detective to realize what it was he was staring it, but as he looked closer he began to see that it was indeed another person, a man, dressed in leather.

Well…that’s something you don’t see every day, Jorge thought to himself briefly. Cautioning a step closer, his presence seemed to automatically draw the attention of the man in black.

>> " Need some help?"

Do you? Jorge thought to himself as he noted the rather odd, black leather outfit the man had one. That cannot be comfortable.

Jorge watched the man closely. His light skin was a stark contrast to the black leather outfit that he had on. In the darkness of the abandoned hallway, it would have looked as if he were little more than a ghostly figure, a disembodied head floating around through the dusty halls aimlessly, seeking victims. The detective did not know what the man was doing, running around the building and wearing that extremely hot and uncomfortable looking costume, or why he was standing over a man who looked to be in the worst pain imaginable, but he would not have long to wonder.

“Listen, buddy, are you crazy?” Jorge asked as he hefted up his wrench. “You need to get outta here while you ca–”

SMASH!!!

Jorge turned to the wall of the hallway, just in time to see a large fist drive its way through. The wood splintered around it, the plaster and wallpaper cracking and splitting as it created jagged lines that flowed up towards the ceiling, none of it was a good sight. The furry fist opened wide and gripped the edge of the hole and immediately started to pry it open wider, causing the entire wall to shake and crack.

It was not a good side. The building was condemned already for structural problems, this was only going to make it worse.

Jorge ran forward and slammed the wrench into one of the many fingers. Effectively it broke the bones and bent the finger outward. This was followed by another shriek of pain.

“Think you’d learn by now!” he yelled.

"Listen, buddy, are you crazy?” The jury was still out on that one. Judging by the look he was giving Garrett, he could easily be jury chairman." You need to get outta here while you ca–”

--SMASH--

Garrett covered his eyes, a light cloud of wood and plaster dust floating out from the wall's wound. Known carcinogens were a no no. The cop was lethal with the wrench. It could be a sidearm for him, but probably not so good at range. Which reminded him about something. A small token of goodwill. Rising slowly with his hands out and palms open, he turned his back to the officer, revealing the pilfered pistol. Pointing toward it with both hand and head, he spoke softly but clearly. " I got this from one of them. You are probably better with it than I am."

Reaching gingerly behind, he passed the gun off to the other, grip facing the cop. His face turned to the twisted and broken fingers, his face creeping up into a crescent of anticipation. It was like blood in the water. He gripped it before it could slip away, the neural map tracing back. Garrett could almost see the map though the wall was in the way. It was slightly disconcerting, but the clear shot of neural stimulation steeled his focus. Razorback's howls became whimpers, though his bestial roots brought on more sounds of violence. He turned back to the officer, sliding the red stitched doll mask back over his face,

" So, how do you want to do this? We should have a moment as I turned his pain up to eleven." Maybe the officer would be sympathetic to Garrett's plight for anonymity after all.

It was needless to say that Jorge was getting a bit tired of this evening, and especially of the large, bruising half-man, half-boar thug that was still trying to kill him. Even after he took out one of his eyes and now crushed the bones in his fingers, Jorge could still hear him howling in rage and cursing his very soul to the heavens. Not that the good detective didn’t have it coming, but still, it kind of hurt.

Jorge backed up a bit and watched as the angered beast attempted to pull his hand free from the hole in the wall. Apparently be crushing those fingers, Jorge had temporarily trapped Razorback’s hand into the wall. It was not a lot of time bought but at least it was something in order to give the man a chance to breathe.

As he did so, though, he watched as the leather-clad wonder began to show him some form of good faith. Standing from the body of the unconscious man, he slowly reached out and offered him a gun.

>> "I got this from one of them. You are probably better with it than I am."

Jorge arched a brow. That would definitely help their situation some. It also helped the Leather Man’s case by handing it over to him. Jorge was cautious at first, it was his job to be cautious after all. Especially in this day and age anywhere people could practically do anything under the sun thanks to the gift of mutations.

Slowly his hand slipped out, eyeing the man closely before he took the handle of the gun in hand and pulled it back to him. The familiar weight of the new weapon felt good. It was not his own police issue gun, but it would do in a pinch like this, especially if he could not find himself a water source. Giving a nod of thanks to his new companion, Jorge tucked the gun into the holster at his side, underneath his coat.

“Thanks,” he said with a nod. “Much appreciated.”

But then things turned a little stranger. Jorge, while trying to think of a plan in order to get both of them out of here without be ripped in half or gored by the savage man-beast on the other side of the wall, stepped back as he watched the leather man creep forward and place a hand on the monster’s twisted fingers. Jorge was going to jump forward and stop him, but it seemed that the second he touched Razorback’s hand, the beast on the other side of the wall began to whimper and howl in pain. I did not look as if the man were twisting his hand or anything, but…he was doing something that the other found excruciating…

>> "So, how do you want to do this? We should have a moment as I turned his pain up to eleven."

Turned his pain up? Jorge thought to himself. Was this guy who looked like he wandered away from a fetish convention for real?

Eyeing the red-stitched doll mask the man slipped on, Jorge was both creeped out a little and curious. It was apparent that the man was here really trying to help, though he was obviously going about it under less conventional means. Was he part of the X-Men? It was possible. But Jorge had worked with many of them before, yet he’d never seen or heard of this guy. He could simply be a mutant trying to run around as a vigilante.

Well, whatever the truth was, Jorge was sorely lacking in friends in this situation. He could use all that was offered.

While Razorback was in pain, Jorge nodded to a room that was opposite and away from them.

“I dropped my cell phone in the other room. I’d just call for back-up, but I don’t think we can keep this guy occupied for long. He’s a long time criminal and he needs to be brought down.” Jorge muttered. “If I can get to a sizeable source of water, I can use that to incapacitate him. Did you happen to run into a water heater or something when you entered the building?”

So, now everyone was friends. Meet and greet could be penciled in at a later date. the use of his mutation had awakened the neural fibers in the masked man. Tingling and what could be described as a pleasant fondling of the nervous system occurred within as he had affected another. He was hooked, taking a deep breath as he listened to the good officer. “I dropped my cell phone in the other room. I’d just call for back-up, but I don’t think we can keep this guy occupied for long. He’s a long time criminal and he needs to be brought down.” The black sack of red stitch turned on its axis, ear turning up at the mention. Brought down. He liked that, nodding and smiling beneath the featureless leather.

“If I can get to a sizeable source of water, I can use that to incapacitate him. Did you happen to run into a water heater or something when you entered the building?” Incapacitate. Another fine suggestion. he shook his head at the mention of water sources. " Go get your phone. I'll wait. I'll check the two cronies." Of course, that was a lie, but in a crisis of sorts, lies became less intrusive. As soon as he turned to get it, Seizure padded off down the hall, though actually doubling back to make it to Razorback's room tootsweet. All this talk had him revved up and ready.

Easy enough to trace with the bestial wailing and all, the foe was found hunched over, sniffing at himself. The sniffing found another target soon enough, the bleeding head turning toward the man in black. the two looked at each other silently for a moment. One, a twisted visage of injury and rage, the other a silent observer, a statue of intention. The latter could see the fading neural pathways pulsing in the creature's forearm, a remnant of their brief union. A hand raised and with it followed the throbbing and pulsating fire in Razorback's hand. A sudden connection was made from screaming hand to the pain doll. Back and forth, back and forth.

All the while, unbeknownst to the hairy oaf, a pathway of shining energy was writing itself , spreading from its original source. By the time the rage got the best of him, Razorback was mapped to the midthigh. His rush and bellow of primal rage was intense, but in reality just the lone cry of denial, like the mammoth as it descended beneath tar. His mind may have wanted him to charge Seizure and gore him to the last, but only the thoughts occurred. Motor control messages were tapped out, as if he hadn't paid the bill. His only movement was to fall face first to the floor. Unfortunately, he landed on his bad eye. Bummer.

Crouching down in the field of the good eye's view, a hand patted the shoulder of the immobilized man-boar. "Furniture stores? You should really try harder next time. Now try to relax." Standing slowly, a finger pointed at its spine, a brief seizing before unconsciousness appeared. He walked a slow circle around his quarry, the footsteps of the cop being heard, a muffled sound of his voice. He'd already seen his face, but no reason to meet the entire police department. Only problem? Only exits without cops were windows.

>> " Go get your phone. I'll wait. I'll check the two cronies."

Jorge eyeballed the leather masked man closely. His eyebrow arched as he turned to glance to the opposite room. He knew his phone had to be in there somewhere. The last he had remembered having it was right when he had confronted Razorback on this floor. The punch had been hard enough to send him flying so he must have dropped his phone somewhere mid-air. It would be better if he called for back-up, especially if there was no water around in this broken down tenement.

It was risky but so long as the dollface decided to stay put, he guessed it would not take him long to find his phone. A glance to the hole in the wall and Jorge slowly nodded his head.

“Alright, fine,” Jorge said. “You, stay out of trouble. I’ll be right back.”

Jorge slinked off into the shadows and made his way back into the room that started his whole mess. As he stepped, he did his best to avoid any of the weakened bits of the floor and ducked under any low hanging beams. His shoes scraped against the fallen, broken bits of furniture and debris, but the detective was more inclined to keep his eyes on the corners. Razorback was still on the other side of that wall and there was no telling how long before he made his way around to them. He needed that phone and he had to get back to leather wonder’s side before he got himself killed.

Stepping into the large, empty room, the detective began to trace his steps to the best of his ability. A glance to the side and he saw the wall that he was sent hurtling through thanks to the single punch by that hairy bruiser. One quiet step after another and Jorge made his way around, his brown eyes searching, scanning for any sign of much needed phone. It was times like this that made him wish he had a spare one, but that would just end up being silly. Still though, it would have helped to locate his mobile device faster.

“Come on, you little bastard,” Jorge grumbled to himself as he stalked the many empty corners of the room.

It was not until he made a misstep that he felt an odd piece of debris under his shoe. A glance down and immediately he caught side of the black and silver lined piece of equipment. Snatching it up in hand, he sighed a little gratefully and immediately dialed to the emergency number.

“This is Detective Jorge Cervantes,” he announced as he pulled the confiscated gun free from the holster and began to check the corners and shadows for any more surprises. “I need back up. I have wanted criminal Razorback cornered in an abandoned apartment complex. Send the squads to–“

His voice trailed off as he began to stalk the rooms silently, looking for a sign, any sign if there could be someone else here. But first he really needed to check on Razorback’s location. If he could keep the mutant covered then there could be a good chance that they could haul him in with minimal issue.

But as Jorge made his way and peeked into the room where the hulky beast was supposed to be…he spied the leather man in there as well, standing over a cowering, practically unconscious Razorback. Gun up, the detective slowly stalked into the room, keeping both the leather man and Razorback covered. Jorge eyed him close as he stalked inside the room, still a little unsure of what to think of him. He was a vigilante and so far the only vigilantes that the police department were tolerating right were the X-Men.

Eyebrow raised, Jorge sighed as he holstered his gun and nodded to the leather man. He would venture to trust him and hoped that he was not wrong.

“Thank you, for your assistance.” Jorge said with an appreciative nod.

It didn't take long for the officer to return,gun in the classic ninety degree posture. The weapon's sheathing and the genuine thanks made Garrett bow at the waist before slipping the doll mask off. Smiling and wiping his face of old sweat, he spoke to his ally. " It was my pleasure. I suspect I have a few minutes of response time. " Folding his arms up and behind his head, he fiddled with the zipper of the suit, a few inches peeling back. The heat poured vertically out of him, making him suddenly clear with the rush of cool.

There was little reason to conceal his identity from important people. Not that everyone wasn't, more that in the game of vigilante, one man island only goes so far. Besides, he had been on television enough times to make paper bagging obsolete. " To save you the hours of research, I am Garrett Wills. Formerly X-Man, formerly Order, formerly RUPERT, ...presently burning up in this suit. I hope you will keep my identity a secret from the police force. It's harder to get things done when the weight of an organization gets attached to one's name, however benevolent." It was as relieving internally to let the steam out as it had been externally. Listening to whatever the other had to say, he did his little circular dance of social bee until he was passing the cop. " Wouldn't surprise me if our next meeting was less informal. I look forward to it."

>> " It was my pleasure. I suspect I have a few minutes of response time. "

The detective watched as the man once again pulled off his mask and even reached back to unzip part of the costume he wearing. He had to admit that it did not look like the most comfortable thing to wear. A leather bound outfit used as a vigilante costume? Jorge tried to imagine the chaffing, the uncomfortable hotness of the outfit and he felt a pang of sorrow for the man. He applauded his efforts to help, but it might be better for him to choose a costume that is not so harsh.

>> " To save you the hours of research, I am Garrett Wills. Formerly X-Man, formerly Order, formerly RUPERT, ...presently burning up in this suit. I hope you will keep my identity a secret from the police force. It's harder to get things done when the weight of an organization gets attached to one's name, however benevolent."

Garrett Wills. X-Man. Order. RUPERT. The detective memorized this words, especially since he more than likely would be doing some research into them.

He had heard of the X-Men, obviously, but the Order and RUPERT were new to him. He was going to make sure to look into those terms when he returned to the precinct. Though he was coming onto being in the city a year, he knew there were still a lot of things that he did not know about the mutant community. It took work for him to get to know anything about the X-Men , but what were these other organizations?

Jorge would dwell on that later. For now he was simply thankful he would get to walk out of this mess alive. Really, if it had not been for the leather clad man, Garrett, he more than likely would be carried out of this abandoned building in a body bag, and his name would have been added to a list of those who had ‘fallen’ underneath Razorback’s cruelty.

The detective nodded as he watched the vigilante begin to make his way around him, moving away to make his escape. Vigilantism was frowned upon, even the X-Man were on thin ice and were only grudgingly being accepted because they were working with the police. And even though this man was apparently an ex-X-Man, that did not give him the right to run around in a costume dishing out his own version of the law!

Still…the detective knew he owed the man.

“Thank you,” he said again. “You...may want to consider trying to lessening these nightly activities. Not every cop will be as understanding as I am. But I know when to be appreciative of another’s efforts. I hope we can meet again.”

>> " Wouldn't surprise me if our next meeting was less informal. I look forward to it."

“As am I,” Jorge said as he turned back to face the fallen, beastial man. He shook his head as she stared at the beast shallowly breathing and completely still. He prayed he would stay like that for a bit longer. It was only as he stared at him, though, that he heard that angelic sound of sirens piercing the night air. A glance to Garrett and Jorge nodded his head. “That’s your cue…friend. Best make tracks.”