Cafas was out and about. He was wearing his heroing get up, minus his sword. He had this on, because there was word on the usual networks of a group of men terrorising a church. While Cafas didn't necessarily agree with religions on the whole, he also did not agree with pointlessly killing people, which said men claimed to be intending to do. This was how he came to be in his blue and yellow gear, a nice x adorning the front of his shield (it clipped on, just in case).

Who knows, maybe it's all unnecessary.

When he arrived at the location though, it seemed unlikely that it would go off without a fight. Something about the police perimeter, and the man with the megaphone. By the sound of it, negotiations were going well as usual. Oh well. Cafas crossed the thirty metre perimeter to the protest of one officer, but another, who seemed very familiar, told him to shut up and gave Cafas the all clear. He was clearly un-armed, after all. There was a scream, a rather muffled whump, which he had trouble placing, then the gasp, then the body. It streaked from the top of the steeple downward. Cafas winced and closed his eyes before the impact. He was happy then to have been standing at the doors; he really didn't want to have to walk past that poor person.

Oh s***...

Radios were being yelled into behind him, he could hear orders being given, some confusion, and the herding of people away from the area. It was going to end in a blood bath if he let the police go in; these men clearly had nothing to lose. Their demands, he had overheard, for the safe return of hostages, were absolutely astronomical. Big deal, when weren't they? Giant door was pried open, shield first Cafas walked in. Great, a foyer, with multiple exits. Well if they ran they wouldn't get far.

Cafas peered cautiously around the corner, akubra in his spare hand. The hostages were in a general area, tied up. Some were church goers; other looked to have simply been brought in off the street outside. He knew there was live news coverage. This had to make him and the X-men look good, they had enough PR issues as it was. He hung his hat on the coat rack next to him. No sense getting it shot full of holes. Once more he checked on the baddies. They weren't even pointing their guns at the hostages. Not worried clearly.

Great, machine guns.

One step back, big breath, into the main room. "Put the guns down and your hands in the air now! Police are right behind me, and you don..." Three sharp bangs cut him off. Cafas was not amused. He wiped the liquid bullets from his forehead. The look on their faces said it all. That was not what they expected.

Despite the lack of ill effects, getting shot pissed Cafas right off. So he charged the offending criminal and was greeted by a hail of more bullets from a great deal of angles. It didn't matter, nine millimetre or shotguns, they were all metal. They all simply vaporised on contact. The perps were too busy shooting at him to bother with the hostages, and now, they were reloading. Cafas' Shield made a very satisfying clang, with an even more satisfying crunch and thud as the man who had initially shot him got his ass handed to him in one strike. Teach him to have such a glass jaw.

What now, gamer boy? Gonna go all X-box live and teabag him?

Some of the men gave up on gun, they were the smart ones. Others tried the shooting thing again, they were the stupid ones, if the crash behind him was anything to go by. Five men were left in the room. The nearest received a shield to the face, a sweeping kick taking out his legs. Then something actually hurt Cafas. Oh, that would be the butt of a rifle being slammed into his back. He hit the ground, rolled awkwardly and ended up crouching on the ground as the man with the rifle kicked him in the jaw. Cafas did not enjoy the feeling. He stood quickly, took a step in and brought his knee up at the same time as he grabbed the gunman's face and brought it down to meet the incoming knee. He was out, but he was now left with three much more organised criminals, the one who he had knocked down with the sweep kick was still dazed, but getting up.

Not good.

The three attacked as one. They were slightly too well trained for Cafas' liking, all he could do was defend. When one broke his hand on Cafas' shield the metal manipulator jumped on the opportunity and as the man gripped his fist and doubled over the X-trainee smashed the lower edge of his shield into the back of the man’s head. He fell to the ground as one of his comrades landed a blow to Cafas' stomach, the other a kick to the back. Weighing his options Cafas dropped his shield and went bare handed. He received a strike to the chest from the bigger of the two men, who in return received an elbow to the temple. Out like a light.

These guys are good as a unit, but terrible alone...

The smaller guy though, had some tricks up his sleeve. The wooden bat did not look pleasant held like that. It didn't feel much better when his ribs got to know it intimately. Cafas did what he could, but that bat was not making his job easy in such a confined area. He took quite the beating, and could feel welts, bruises, cut facial parts. Finally he got a break, or rather; the bat did, when it came into rather solid contact with his shoulder armour. The cops had yet to come into the room, this worried the metal manipulator somewhat as he knocked the man’s legs out from underneath him, and put him into and arm lock on the ground.


"Bravo X-freak" The taunt came from very nearby. Cafas looked up to see the second man he had hit standing, machine gun in hand, pointed at the hostages. "They still get to die." Cafas' eyes went wide but he couldn't move in time. "NO!" His yell was drowned out by several very loud bangs. The smell of spent gunpowder hung in the air, as Cafas stared silently at what he had just witnessed. The man, moments before aiming his gun into the crowd of hostages, lay on the floor. It was gruesome, it made him want to vomit, and it reminded him of Meld and Aura on their little trip. Police swarmed over to where he and the mostly unconscious group of 'wrong doers' were, and proceeded to cuff them all. All except him. He simply got up; his work done, walked past thankful hostages, their lives save by the loss of another, grabbed his shield, his hat as he passed it, walked past a chalk outline on the curb and silently tried to blend into the crowd. That had not gone very well.

There was nothing quite like a roped off crime scene to chase away boredom. Especially when it involved a church, and a mob of innocent bystanders. Megan was at the front of the line as if she were waiting to get on an amusement ride, right up against the yellow tape, slurping away at a giant cup of coffee like it was the last one on earth. She silently thanked whoever had invented the ungodly size of cup she held, and vowed that if she ever met them she'd kiss them right on the lips. It was unholy, but oh so enjoyable. Blue eyes watched the cops as they mulled about, hiding behind car doors and shouting things into a loud speaker. So typical. If they were smart, they'd just rush in and gun everyone down. Problem solved. Shifting on her feet, she scratched at a jean clothed ankle with a sneaker clad toe, and shoved her fee hand into the pocket of her jacket. As much fun as standing around waiting to hear gunshots, or see bad guys get taken down was... she was getting rather tired.

The whole reason she had shown up was to chance seeing one of the masked heroes running about the city. So far, she had seen nothing but sweaty cops and other curious pedestrians. A commotion off to the side caught her attention and Megan turned her head with the crowd. Yellow and blue caught her eyes almost instantly, just as whoever it was had pushed himself past the police barrier. Hmm. Would be super hero, perhaps? One she hadn't seen before. Her curiosity spiked, and she decided to stay a while longer. It wasn't long after that, that her attention was turned upward to witness a body come flying from the steeple on the church. A collective gasp coursed through the crowd. Megan watched as it plummeted, hit the ground with a crack and what she assumed was a squelch, and went back to slurping her delicious drink. She winced a little, but living with Roach had made her more or less impossible to gross out. Flying bodies were nothing, when you found a half nibbled on cat under the kitchen sink, and murdered family members in the hallway closet.

The hero entered the church, much to the grumbling of nearby cops, and Megan found herself standing on her toes to get a better look of the doorway. Someone nudged her in the ribs, catching her attention. "Bet ya twenty bucks he doesn't come out of there alive." Megan blew her bangs from her eyes and raised a brow at the man, who was roughly her age. All tattooed and clad in leather. Oh, he was sooo original. She shrugged, turning her eyes back to the church. "Sure, why not. He gets killed, I'll give you twenty bucks.... but, if he lives, you give me fifty. Deal?" The guy eyed her for a moment, before as cocky smirk settled on his lips. He figured he had this in the bag. Megan recognized that smirk all too well. She wore it often, after all. "Sure, why not? S'not like it'd be a bad thing to lose a bet to a cute girl anyway... "

She had already tuned him out, listening intently to the muttering of cops, and then, suddenly, the ringing of gunfire. Tattoo man's smirk widened, and Megan frowned a little. God help her, it better have been a bad guy getting shot, and not who her fifty bucks was riding on. More shots were fired, shouting echoed out from inside and more than a few screams fell on the ears of the gathered crowd. Then... Silence. Megan was on the tips of her toes, coffee cup clenched tightly in her hand. Tattoo man was chewing on his lip, with his arms crossed and fingers drumming a silent beat on his forearm. They shared a silent look between them, each frowning, and turned their eyes back to the door as someone stepped out...

...someone clad in blue and yellow.

Megan's grin damn near split her face in two and she turned to her grumbling, suddenly bitter bet partner. "That'll be fifty bucks, please and thankyou." He coughed it up begrudgingly, counting out two twenties and a ten, then attempted to continue a conversation with her. She was already walking away though, intent on following the heroic flavor of the day. She spotted him though the crowd, glimpses of yellow and sightings of a shield. He was fleeing. She needed to hurry up.... While she ducked and dodged past people, she wondered exactly what she was going to say. "Oh hey there, nice job saving the day!" seemed to .... rehearsed. And dropping cheesy super hero line was strictly against Megan rules. Still mulling over that question, she closed in on him and noticed something that distance had kept from her.

He had pink hair.

Immediately she thought back to a pool and pretending to be a giant, ship devouring monster. Oooh, boy. How delightfully awkward... "You know..." She started, stepping out from behind someone and into step with the pink haired, shield carrying hero. "...You look a lot better in swim trunks." She couldn't pin a name to him... just glimmer of recognition to one nice dip in the pool. Of course, she hardly expected him to remember her either.

Well, no. That was a lie. Everyone was expected to remember her. She was spectacular, after all. her straw was back in her mouth and she grinned at the guy, hurrying to match much larger strides than her own.

Cafas looked down at the girl who was speaking to him. He knew her, he didn't know her name, but he knew he had once been in swimwear in front of her, and he had been in the pool all of five times in his time at the mansion, counting the whole Calley thing as twice. "I tend to disagree, though I am biased against seeing my own scars too often." She was quite eager to keep up, and he supposed he was in no hurry to get rid of her, company was always appreciated when he was doing the X-man gig.

I swear if that reporter takes one more step towards me I'm going to follow him to his van and melt it.

Friends he liked, reporters he wished would just all go away and leave him alone. Though this one seemed nice enough. At least he and his crew weren't shoving a microphone halfway down his throat. "Excuse me, uuuum," the reporter stalled, he responded "Alchemist." The reporters face seemed to lift as Cafas slowed slightly for him and his crew, and so readily deposited a name with them. ", yes, Alchemist, what is the official X-men standpoint on this crime." Cafas had gotten that one before so often. "I am not in a position to answer that question at this point in time." That didn't make him as happy as the name had but the reporter pressed on. "Okay, well then what can you say about any links to mutants within this crime." Cafas got that one a lot too. "At this point it does not seem like this crime was to do with mutants, there were no signs of any mutant discrimination amongst either the victims or the men involved. No further questions, thank you, I have a busy schedule to keep."

BS, but it makes them f*** off

The reported did, in fact, leave. He supposed there was just something about being a mutant with an unknown power that scared them. "Sorry about that, anyway, how are you?" He smiled now, trying hard to look like a man had not just been shot right in front of him. "You stop by crime scenes a lot?"

Oh god... paparazzi. Of course what did she expect when dealing with a super cool hero? One who cool enough to realize that capes and lame ski masks were out dated and tacky. She waited to respond until the swam of camera and microphone toting blood suckers had vanished, to reply to him. "I'm doing great... and yeah, I'm a crime scene buff. Can't really help it." Aside from psycho ex's and her current hang over headache. Which, thankfully, was being kept at bay by her delicious coffee. "You on the other hand seem to be rather busy."

Megan eyed him, then eyed the diminishing crowd and swirled the coffee that was left in her cup. She was nearly out... but that was okay, because she had a nice, new fifty dollars in her pocket. "...So, Alchemist, I didn't know you were a super hero... you do this sort of thing all the time?" She thought about admitting her secret admiration for his type. The type who put everyone above themselves and fought for the side of good.... but didn't want to seem contradictory. Megan herself sometimes dreamed of slipping into skin tight leather and prowling the streets to fight crime.

...but she was far to realistic to believe that such a thing could ever come true. She knew herself, and herself was not a very nice lady. A witch, as someone had once called her. "Nice outfit, by the way... looks good on you." How she managed to say that without winking or smirking.. she didn't really know. First time for everything, she guessed. "Say... I was actually on my way to get something to eat, wanna join me? You can tell me tales of heroic deeds... like saving kittens from trees and stopping monsters from rampaging through the city." She pointed a thumb over her shoulder, back at the church. "...or that."