Garrett had covered the informational and strategic fronts first. Always business. He knew that regardless of the outcome with Lori and the Sanctuary, if he was going to join the Order again, he'd have to go through Isabel. He suspected that talking wasn't quite going to cut it and that suited him fine. Isabel respected blood over all other forms of currency. Seizure was ready to play.

He stood at the golden doors, dressed in khaki cargo shorts, sandals and an open white button up with wifebeater beneath. His hand gripped the handle, opening it enough to walk in. First thing to see was the illustrious Lisa, who wore a face of interest and slight surprise. " Hey Lisa. Can you call Isabel up here for me?" He smiled, his hands flexing and pumping as he prepared himself.

He looked at the plush seats of reception, but chose to stand, facing the hall she would inevitably come down. Best to see her coming, should she skip any niceties.

Isabel gave a small jump as the phone n her pocket buzzed, both starting and irritating her as she scrambled to dig it out and see who it was that was bothering her. She relaxed just a bit when Lisa's name flashed on the outer screen. If the Receptionist was calling for her, then it was very likely Order related. Maybe it was a new potential recruit that needed a little goading into joining the Faction. Isabel was good at speaking highly of the Order, and was hopefully just as good at persuading people with that talk.

Shoving her phone back in her pocket, she turned to head for the main corridor, all set to say hello to Lisa and hopefully have a nice little chat with a newcomer.

She stopped short at the point where the hallway opened up into the main entrance. It was a newcomer, but not the kind that she wanted to see. He was more like a returning recruit. One that had ruined their former plans for Haywire and assaulted their former leader, Syn, who had been missing ever since. She shot an unkind look over at Lisa who seemed to be ignoring her completely as she went back to her work, whatever her work actually was.

Staying where she was and dropping her hands on her hips she looked back over to where Seizure was standing. She didn't understand why he'd waltz back into the Sanctuary or what he could possibly want from her or anyone else in the Order. Silently she wondered if Lisa had called her to get rid of the young man or not. She didn't seem to enjoy the messes Isabel left when she got into fights.

"What the hell do you want?"

Garrett looked at the expression on Isabel's face. He fought a grin but it rebelled and pushed its way onto his face. She was not pleased, as expected. Her glancing at Lisa drew lines in the sand. Red rover, red rover, come on over. He took a few steps in approach, though there was easily six feet between them. He placed his hands behind his back and folded them, his well known mouth revving up.

"So, I thought I would let you know that I am coming back to the Sanctuary full time. I'll be residing here as well as taking my office back as Public Relations Director. I know you don't like it, but I've already spoken with Lori. It's done." He could almost feel her bones twitching beneath her face. " However, considering your long and ever faithful standing, I chose to come and tell you to your face, rather than you tripping over yourself when you see my name on the glass again."

His own spine straightened significantly. As he waited for a response, be it verbal or not, his sense of Smell slowly faded away, taking its sister Taste along with it, the neural stimuli moving to his optic nerves. His field of magnification remained the same, though now her colors were vivid, her movements telegraphed. It was as if he were seeing through a cat's eyes, the whiskers contained in the eye. Perhaps she would simply fuss and complain. He wasn't dressed as a police officer, so that was a plus.

Isabel watched Garrett step closer. She replied with a glower. Someone was obviously rather confident in his return. That same someone also didn't seem to be quite wary enough of a temperamental bonemancer. He didn't get too close, which was fortunate for him. She didn't often appreciate people testing her patience, and she very likely would have lashed out if he'd gotten within arm's reach. She didn't exactly have the warmest feelings toward the young man.

She crossed her arms as he started speaking, her weight shifting to one leg as she continued to glare. Smug little creep. He honestly thought he could just walk in off the street and expect to pick up where he left off? Not if she had anything to say about it.

Except, perhaps, if Lori had already said something about it.

Her glare faltered briefly at the mention of the electric blond. She didn't quite know the other woman's feelings over what happened in the Haywire battle, but there was no way she couldn't have known about Seizure's involvement in ruining their plans to use the drug. He worked against them once, he could do it again.

"I don't care who you've talked to," she stated, matter-of-factly, regaining her sour expression. "I don't like you and I don't want you here. You can go ahead and curl back up in whatever hole you crawled out of."

She could always have a chat with Lori later if she had to.

He could see beyond the obvious pouting pose the murderess was known for. It made one expect a pouty lip to appear, maybe some Nellie Olsenesque foot stomping and tantrum throwing. The brief moment that would have allowed peaceful discourse came and went. She perhaps thought of Lori's authority briefly, but snapped back into her own defiance. Par for the course with this one. "I don't care who you've talked to. I don't like you and I don't want you here. You can go ahead and curl back up in whatever hole you crawled out of."

Well, she certainly wasn't going to enjoy what he had to say beyond Hello and I'm back. It had to be done though. This had to be done. But not here in the foyer. " Well, it is an inevitability, Isabel. We need to get some things straightened out. Not here, though. Surely you can agree that new arrivals need not see us hashing out our differences all over the carpet. Let's move this elsewhere. Perhaps the gymnasium or the parking lot out back. We are going to talk, however."

Stepping laterally to her position toward Lisa's borderline OCD arrangements on her desk, he cleanly pulled a pair of scissors from a cornucopia of items standing vertically in one of those plastic tubes that are commonplace with bureaucracy. Garrett imagined her eyes would light up at the thought of his being brash and stupid, but her logic would probably kick in right after. Removing the long sleeve shirt he was wearing, revealing his bare shoulders and arms in the wifebeater, he deftly took to cutting the shirt into strips. As he waited for her next spiteful and bratty response, he folded the strips, tucked them in his pocket and replaced the scissors, smiling to Lisa. " So where to?"

Inevitability. Pft. That's what he thought. There was no way Isabel was letting this idiot get past her. At least not in one piece. She expected he'd look a lot better with a missing limb or a few punctured organs. Everyone always looked a lot better spattered in crimson.

She wasn't about to let him get the chance to mess things up for her and her Faction again. He was already tying to order her around and tell her how things were supposed to play out. At this point she didn't particularly care what Lori may have said to the young man. After she'd maimed him, then she'd see if the Boss Lady still had any use for the guy.

She watched him carefully as he started moving again and snatched up a pair of scissors from Lisa's desk. Her arms dropped to her sides and one brow raised, almost defiantly, wondering exactly what he planned on doing with the shears. He couldn't possibly be that stupid, could he?

She hadn't at all expected that he'd strip off his shirt and proceed to shred it. What on earth could that have been about? There didn't seem to be any point to it. Why shred a shirt just to pocket the pieces? Why shred a shirt at all?

Looking away from his pockets and back to his face, she gave a huff and shot him the sort of look that said 'you've got to be kidding me'. Since when did she ever listen to anyone that tried bossing her around like that? He apparently hadn't learned a whole hell of a lot during his previous stay. And while the possibility of a scuffle was extremely tempting, she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction.

"You can walk your sorry ass right back out that door. I don't really care where you go from there. I have no interest in chatting with you."

If Isabel thought she was annoyed, Garrett was more so. It was this very, nevermind. "It is this very attitude of yours that I want to speak to you about, Isabel." He stood his ground, his neural patterns shifting and changing like a Rorshach ink blot. He would be more than fine simply discussing things, but as he tried to convey his point, there was a fine chance that she might go ballistic and try to stab him. " My sorry ass is standing right here and yours is listening."

Doing this in the foyer was beyond inane, but he could see she was wearing blood tinted glasses and there was little point in not expecting a violent rebuttal. Resisting her was futile. " I went to the NYPD division of Mutant Related Crimes. Most of the most wanted are usually found within these walls.' He shifted to the right a tad, perhpas moving in a few more inches." While this may give you some sort of ego satisfaction, all you are doing is bringing the rest of us down. And I do mean us. Not just the residents nor the Orderlings, but us, Isabel. ." His palm pressed against his chest, extending out toward her. "Mutantkind."

His arms returned behind him. He had no fear of the situation. He was moving with it. " I understand why you feel betrayed. I destroyed Haywire. If I had the chance, I would do it again. The reason being, the backlash of its use would mean full on war between our own species and that of humanity. Again, I know you wish for such a confrontation. I assure you, either our numbers would not be enough or they would escape to their bunkers and use nuclear weapons. We as a people are in no shape to take on all of humanity. Yet. Blatant violence toward humans is a dying trend. So you had better take it down a peg." His arms opened by his sides, his nerves rustling like summer wind through barley.

"There's nothing wrong with my attitude," Isabel protested with a huff. She was in no mood to be mommy'd by some bald blowhard. Her attitude was perfectly acceptable for someone who was defending her home from an invading force. He was the bad guy here, not her.

And then he was moving on into accusations. Not only was he complaining about her attitude and challenging her by choosing not to heed her instructions, he was also blaming the mutant situation on her and mutants like her. She positively bristled at such a claim.

"Don't you dare blame me for human prejudice," she warned, pointing a finger in his direction threateningly, all the while keeping an eye on his hands as well as the rest of him. He could inch closer a he wanted. She wasn't moving. She just had to repress the urge to cut his fingers off when his hand waved in her direction.

"That prejudice was around way longer than I've been. Some people may be able to grin and bear it, or try to pretend that it doesn't exist, but I don't plan on doing the same. They wanna hate me? Fine. I can and will give them a reason to."

War didn't bother her. It didn't scare her. She thrived on violence, and the humans seemed to do much the same. He wasn't going to discourage her from going about business as usual. He wasn't going to encourage her to do anything, either. She had absolutely no intention of listening to anything he had to say, especially when it involved trying to boss her around. He didn't frighten her.

"And what makes you think I have any interest in what you've got to say? You really think you can just show up here and pick up where you left off? I really don't care what Lori said to you. I don't plan on listening to a damn thing you have to say, and I definitely don't plan on doing whatever you try telling me to."

She was getting very irritated. Her armor was already instinctively forming in preparation for an increasingly likely lash out in the young man's direction. She even took a step toward him, her hands balling into fists at her side. "This is my home, and I plan to protect it. I'm not gonna tell you again. Get the hell out."

Of course there was nothing wrong with her attitude. He could count all the times she had made a difference in the lives of others. All he could think of was the number of fatherless police families that mourned in her wake. Garrett was no cop lover, but really, if she couldn't see that all she did was fluff her own ego, it was too big to contend with anyway. "Don't you dare blame me for human prejudice. That prejudice was around way longer than I've been. Some people may be able to grin and bear it, or try to pretend that it doesn't exist, but I don't plan on doing the same. They wanna hate me? Fine. I can and will give them a reason to."

She was getting pissed off. So was Garrett. " Just shut the f**k up. Who wouldn't hate you? All you do is piss and moan about humans anyway. There are probably rats in this building who have gone outside more than you. The only time you ever leave this place is to go collect police badges. Otherwise you just roam the halls stomping your little feet and huffing. Huff again." He couldn't figure out why he had bothered talking to her anyway. Violence was inevitable with this ridiculous oaf so if that is what she wanted, that is what she would get. Garrett was already tuning out her next tirade, which only further cemented his opinions about her.

He could see her skin shifting, as if something were moving under her skin. Which of course it was. While the sensation of rage was fulfilling, he couldn't let it cloud his amplified vision. One would really have to be mentally deficient to know what Isabel could do and approach her. She was within his range as he was no doubt in hers. He was ready for it. His hand slipped into his pocket and produced a small orange plastic pistol. He pointed at her. " I'm not going anywhere. You want me out? DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!" With that, he pulled the little trigger several times, water zipping out in little streams toward her bow and face.

Isabel just blinked a moment at Seizure's little outburst before regaining her temper. Who the hell did he think he was talking to her like that? No one told her to shut up without at least gaining a flesh wound in return. She didn't give a rat's ass that he didn't like her. She could say just the same about him, especially with this little scene playing. She had to repress the urge to spit at him as he told her to huff again.

His hand was coming around again before she had a chance to tell him how much of an asshole she thought her was. She took half a step back, expecting a fist or perhaps the pair of scissors having found their way back into his hand.

A water pistol was one she hadn't seen before.

She couldn't help the slight squeak that escaped her as she shied away from the small spurts of water, her hands flying up in order t keep as much of it off her face as possible. It didn't help much.

"Ugh! Sonuva-!" That was it! That was so it! Regaining the step she'd taken back and then another, she swung at him with a fist covered in spikes. She was going to make him bleed and then she was going to leave him to it out on the sidewalk.

Garrett could see with the release of the streams of water that he had hit his mark. She was furious. He knew there would finally be retaliation and he knew it would hurt. It didn't keep the snarky grin off his face. Not by a long shot. her previous recoiling was only that of a snake, preparing to strike. He could see her telegraphing the punch that was coming and, unfortunately, he had to take it. Didn't step into it, as that would just be too obvious, so he vaguely tried dodging, though he was moving in anticipation of a mere fist, not one covered in spiky bone. It caught him hard in the cheek, the skin opening at the jagged abrasion.

It hurt. His eyes watered and the tearing sting ran over his face. But then it didn't. The nerves simply quieted down, the pain receding like an ocean tide. the message had been delivered, boys. In the movement of his body in response to the punch, Garrett's hand swung out and caught Isabel by the wrist. As her hand retracted, he was gripping her wrist firmly, pretending to shake off the blow. " Good punch." A trickle opf blood was streaming over his jaw already, his head still lowered as his nervous system got to work.

The moment they were skin to skin, light began to trace its familiar patterns along her wrist and hand, moving with a conscious intent up her forearm and bicep. By the time he could turn to look at her, the flood of neural symbiosis was working its way across her chest and up her neck. He knew that for things to go smoothly, he could not let go of her wrist. This also meant that soon he would get pain that had made the punch seem like angel feathers. He also knew that he could not numb it.

Ha! Take that! Isabel couldn't help but grin as she felt her fist connect with Garret's face. It didn't feel like she broke anything more than skin, but she could always hope she'd dislocated something in the process. In any case she had drawn first blood, which gave her no small amount of satisfaction.

She'd been hoping he would stay put long enough for her to swing again. Garrett didn't really seem to be one to turn tail and run after a little blood shed. Maybe after she skewerd him or something he'd really get the hint and take off, but until then she could continue to have a little fun and blow off some steam.

Grabbing onto her wrist wasn't something she would have anticipated. People typically weren't stupid enough to get that close to her or commit to such brash actions, particularly when she was in a foul mood. She thought he was smarter than that.

"Let go!" she spat, unsuccessfully trying to tug her hand out of his grip. She was trying to keep an eye on his other hand, but it was difficult to focus on anything but the fingers curled around her wrist.

It wasn't likely that he'd let her go just because she told him to, so she'd need to give him a little incentive. Beneath his hand, a line of small spikes circled her wrist, her aim being to make him relinquish his grasp as they bit into his skin. In her other hand she produced a blade and brought it around toward his chest.

Biding time with a homicidal maniac whose entire skeleton was an armada was an easy task. A painful, taxing one, but easy nonetheless. Garrett wished he had bangs to hide his eyes beneath, but in their absence, he settled for glances at the bone goddess. The light of her neural pattern was working its way like poison through a well. It had traveled acrossh er torso, slowly crawling over her skull like a sleepy tarantula while the bulk of the coursing moved toward her other shoulder and arm.

"Let go!" Unsuccessful tugs meant that she believed she was in control. Or at least that was what Garrett hoped for. he was more than surprised at the reaction, however. The spikes from her wrist penetrated his palm, which was painful, to be sure, but he had thoroughly expected to see pinnacles of bone shoot through the back of his hand. When they didn't he knew. She was toying with him. The pain made him reflexively take a knee as his vision caught the bone blade making an arc toward his chest. Blood was beginning to trickle down his forearm, his grip remaining tight as the wave of sensation made him clammy and feel a bit nauseous.

Funny how nausea becomes rage with two shakes of a lamb's tail. " You're done." While the sensation of the injury to his hand was moderate, it would most likely only piss her off. No, since it was time to gain the advantage, Garrett ran his free hand over his calf and ankle, his fingers feeling the wayward groove of the scar there. he still carried a metal rod and pins in his leg. Maybe one day Isabel would come around and help him with that. Not today though. Today she would feel the nearly blackout inducing trauma of a crushed leg. His nerves held the memory of Abyss' rage, the sick cracks of sinew and bone beneath the red giant's hands. She could have it in her arm first.

Isabel's little sparring partner might not make it as far as the sidewalk after all. He didn't let her go, as she'd hoped he would, but instead dropped down on his knee. If a little palm puncturing was enough to make him half collapse, he really wasn't cut out for sparring with her. She couldn't imagine why he'd pushed her buttons so hard in the first place if he did this poorly in a physical fight.

Her secondary assault would have to be redirected after he'd dropped so quickly, but she wasn't complaining. Damage was damage, she didn't particularly care what parts of him got cut up first. At least, that was the plan before the jerk turned the tables on her. Before she could draw any more blood from the man on the ground, he launched his own retaliation.

She couldn't even scream at first. The sickening pain that suddenly erupted in her arm sent a wave of nausea through her that prevented her from vocalizing her discomfort. She had no recollection of such intense pain in recent memory. Even being shot didn't compare. The wasn't anything visibly wrong with her arm, but it felt like it was being torn apart.

It was her turn to drop, landing heavily on her knees. There would no doubt be bruising later, but with her arm feeling as if it was on fire, such a mild pain didn't even register. "Let go!" she shrieked, all but writhing in an attempt to get away from her opponent.

She extended the spikes she'd stuck his palm with, though they quickly became jagged and uneven in length with her broken concentration. Her body was busier tying to throw up some form of defense, the armor under her skin getting denser and random spikes jutting up out of her afflicted arm.

She was back on her rear before she'd realized it. Her eyes were beginning to well up with as of yet unshed tears and her stomach was churning ominously. She felt dizzy and lightheaded and was desperately trying not to fall over any further as she attempted to scramble away from the young man that was causing her so much agony.

He'd been toying with her just as she'd been doing with him. He'd wanted her to lash out at him and she was too damn temperamental to have thought of such a possibility before she'd acted. And now she was paying for it as her arm felt as if it were being torn apart piece by piece. She kicked at him sloppily as she tried to scoot back. She wanted nothing more than to get out of his reach and stay there. She'd figure out where to go from there once she'd managed it.

The rush of neural symbiosis was always something to behold. As damaging as pain was to the psyche, its use as a weapon always soothed Garrett. Perhaps it was because there was a point where it all simply became sensation, to be done with as one willed. Like a violent concerto, he could see great crescendoes of fortissimo[/b][/color] streaming through her arm, its rampage causing a rare call, so rare few ever heard it. The Isabel shriek.

Soon Miss Duskmoor was on her knees to join him. The two looked as if they might engage in prayer. Garrett decided it would be prayers for relief, uttered from her lips. The relief would be given freely as well, provided she kept her mouth shut long enough to listen to him. First things, first, more control. She was already falling back on her rear, the pain no doubt commanding it. Rising from his haunches, he released the point of contact, the neural map glowing before him, laying her bare before him.

Circling her and kneeling again by her smooth hair and crisp bow, his fingers found her temples, her condition surely not one for resistance. He watched as her body revolted, various arrangements of bone stabbing violently and jaggedly through her flesh. He focused and quieted his mind, sending ripples of the pain of puncture along her body to keep her still as he began to exert control over her motor functions. He began to lock her at the shoulders, his voice a cool whisper. " Now, if you want the pain to stop, I suggest you remain still and listen. I know you can do without my sermons, but participation in this case is mandatory."