Isabel remained stubbornly in her sulk beneath the pilfered blanket until she heard a door close. She only had to wonder which door it was in the short space of time between its closing and the sound of running water filling the small room, only slightly muffled as the walls seemed to be rather thin. That answered that question. And it was kind of a shame. She'd hoped that Zephyr had stepped out for a while and left her to herself. But no, just showering. Lame.

Seeing as he was otherwise occupied, she deemed it safe to untangle herself from her cloth shelter ad settle in more comfortably. It was getting to be too warm under that blanket, particularly with her face still somewhat burning, and she wanted a minute to breathe.

Pajamas would probably be cooler and more comfortable, but she wasn't about to start shedding clothes in order to change if she didn't have any control over the lock on the bathroom door. She was jut going to have to wait until the jackass was finished and then duck in herself, barring the door on the way. She remembered how easily he'd dealt with a locked door last time they'd tussled.

She was just starting to fume over such recollections when a sharp knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts, the voice that followed announcing that it was the pizza being delivered. She'd already silently claimed that Zephyr would be the on that'd have to open the door, but she was so not willing to risk his possibly strolling out in just a towel or something in order to do so. No way, not a chance.

Heaving a sigh anyhow, she got up and went to the door. Maybe it should have raised a red flag when the guy didn't protest and ask for payment as she slammed the door in his face and slid the lock in place. But then again, Isabel had never been in the habit of paying for anything so there wasn't much out of the usual to catch her attention.

Pure curiosity caused her to slit the strip of tape holding the box shut unsung a small blade at the tip of her finger. If she was going to hold out and snatch a slice for breakfast in the morning, she might as well figure out if it'd be worth it. Who knew what the Bag of Hot Air liked as toppings. She hoped it wasn't peppers. She hated peppers.

As she lifted the top of the box, she discovered a topping she'd never have suspected. There was some sort of foreign object shoved into the center of the pizza. Were it not for the rapidly burning fuse attached to the thing, she'd never have known it was a bomb.

With a rather squeaky exclamation of surprise, she dropped the box and immediately worked to cover the thing so it wouldn't blow her hands off. Her hands came together in a sort of cupping motion, though her palms were face down. From there the bones in her hands rapidly fused and descended from her skin to form a round, semi-circular covering which was quickly shoved over the explosive, small hooks sprouting to burrow through the crust and cardboard and into the floor to prevent the thing from being blown away. She had no idea how powerful the thing was, so she did her best to make the covering as hard as she could as fast as she could.

There wasn't much time to duck and cover before the thing went off. She didn't even get far enough to avoid some of the splattered cheese and sauce. Making a face as she brushed at her now-stained white shirt, she put out a hand to remove the covering, leaning back as she did so to avoid the smoke that escaped in a mini mushroom cloud. It looked like cold pizza was no longer an option.

The explosion was difficult to miss. Even with Duskmoores attempted containment the detonation had seemed to shake the entire building and the resulting chaotic blast of air had been an almost painful beacon to Zephyr’s senses. Air with that much energy was practically solid and it had rammed into the elementals unguarded thoughts with enough force to all but etch the scene into his mind.

It was an unpleasant, but largely annoying experience, akin to having someone shine a high powered torch into your eyes before then playing it over a dark room. In the less than a second Zephyr felt, and practically saw, the explosion as it took place. It was a surging torrent which tore apart everything it touched yet spent most of its power against Duskmoors shell so that, when the bone shattered, there was barely enough force to scatter the remaining mixture of iron nails and liquefied pizza across the motel room with the soubrette catching most of the latter.

Although everything had been over in a handful of moments it had still been jarring enough to knock the elemental off balance and caused him to strike the baths steel faucet as he fell, sending pain lancing through his back and rapidly turning what had merely been annoyance into outright anger just as the sound of squealing tires cut through the rain filled night.

Ignoring the residual ringing in his ears from the explosion Zephyr focused on the new noise and was able to quickly make out a sedan pulling away from the motel onto the otherwise desolate street. The elemental waited just long enough for the car to gather a good amount of speed before he slammed a fist into the tiled wall of the shower and wrenched the air out of the sedans front two tires causing the car to swerve wildly before it veered off the flooded road and collide into the side of a concrete ramp leading onto the interstate with an audible crash perhaps only two hundred yards from the motel.

Smirking despite the pain, Zephyr carefully pulled himself to his feet and stepped out of the shower, ignoring the negligible pulsing in the back of his skull as he inspected the growing bruise on his back through a mirror. What he’d done had been rather crude and inefficient, but it had been effective, not to mention satisfying.

Wincing as he tried to twist his back the hessians eyes narrowed for a moment in consideration as he sought out the air surrounding the wrecked sedan. It took a few seconds of concentrating but he was able to make out both a driver and passenger, neither of which were moving but both of whom were breathing.

He had some time.

Turning his attention back to his rather colourful bruise the elemental drew a deep breath and watched as the skin slowly grew pale and then began to fade...
--

A number of minutes later Zephyr stalked out of the motel clad in jeans and a grey button up. He’d paused only briefly to give Duskmoor a quick glance as he’d swept on his coat, seeing that she was fine, if something of a mess before then taking in the rest of the room. They wouldn’t be able to stay here for the night, hopefully though that wouldn’t matter.

“This is why we tip the help Duskmoor, I’ll go make sure our pizza boy gets his due. Why don’t you clean up?”

Isabel was busy mumbling and grumbling as she crouched down to collect the pieces of what had been her makeshift containment unit, making a face as her hands had to pass through more greasy cheese and hot sauce as she did so. She'd need a shower soon and a fresh pair of clothes. Unfortunately it would seem such things would have to wait a while, even if Zephyr was finished in the bathroom. Lingering in a room that someone tried to blow up wasn't exactly a smart idea.

"Blah, blah," was the only reply she designated to his chiding over a missing tip. He was just being an ass again and wiping her hands off on her already stained pants was more worth her time than arguing with him yet again at the current moment. Telling her to stay in the room and clean up, however, wasn't going to fly with her.

"What no!" she protested, getting back on her feet and dropping her hands onto her hips. Cleaning was not her thing, making the mess was. It wasn't like they'd be coming back anyway. At least, she didn't think they would be. Whoever tried to blow them up wasn't likely to stop when they figured out it hadn't worked.

She gave a huff and hurried to collect her bag and his when he stepped out of the room. She wasn't going to let him leave her behind while he went off and had all the fun. She was willing to bet that all that noise from screeching tires outside was no coincidence. Zephyr had an intimidating mutation and she was sure he'd be able to pull off something like a car wreck.

"Not fair!" she accused as she slipped out the door shortly after her unfortunate traveling companion. "How come you get to have all the fun?" She liked maiming people, too!

The rain had only gotten worse.

It seemed to fall from the night sky in waves, swept this way then that with the winds ever present moaning as it coated the streets and everything around them. Even with his coat Zephyr would have found himself soaked to the bone in minutes if he hadn’t erected a crude simulacrum of a barrier to try and keep himself dry. That particular luxury had cost him another pair of painkillers in spite of the fact it did nothing to prevent his feet from becoming drenched in the shallow river which was gradually overtaking the road.

Granted he could have simply levitated and thus neatly avoid the problem but by that stage there’d be little point in walking and Duskmoor would lose him almost immediately in the dark if he went for full flight and escaped the lamplight.

Speaking of brunette… the elemental glances over his shoulder and caught an idle glimpse of the soubrettes irate form as she stomped her way through the rain in an effort to keep up with his pace. In truth he’d been half tempted to fling the girl back into the motel room when he’d noticed her trudging behind him despite his words.

He’d refrained from such rash action for two reasons. Firstly because, although she was likely acting difficult on purpose, the gamine was only hurting herself and so there was a chance, albeit a slim one, that a night of being wet and miserable would convince the girl to at least consider what he said in the future.

Secondly, if his two would be murderous were still breathing when he reached them they’d be his only direct link back to the illusive ‘Biggs’ and he’d need Duskmoor in a foul mood, or preferably homicidal one, to get what he wanted from them.

Lightening lanced across the sky, throwing a harsh light over the world for instant and sketching the outline of the wrecked getaway vehicle in the shadow of an overpass before thunder crashed down and darkness descended again with what seemed like an almost tangible force.

Despite being somewhat blinded by the abrupt lightshow Zephyr managed to stalk on regardless, trusting in his other senses to keep him on track as he deliberately led his reluctant companion on a meandering route, ensuring she was utterly before the pair at last reached the crash site and the limited shelter the above overpass provided.

Striding straight over to the twisted mess of metal and rubber that was beginning to leak fuel across the ground the elemental took a cursory glance through the broken windows before making a, brief but futile, attempt to open one of the crushed doors. The hessian then straightened and shifted his gaze over to his unwilling partner, looking at her properly for the first time since he’d left the motel and noticing a rather key detail.

The girl hadn’t brought her coat.

She was utterly drenched, her long auburn hair plastered over part of her face and neck but what could be seen of her features was pink with exertion from having carried bother their bags and her expression was a mixture of misery and malevolence. As the elemental looked on the buxom brunette dropped the aforementioned bags and raised a hand to sweep her soaking hair over her back in an almost violent manner which caused a certain amount of… bouncing, to draw the eye and highlight one of the more appealing properties of white clothing when it became wet.

The posters really didn’t do her justice.

The thought drifted across Zephyr’s mind before he shook his head and brought his attention back to the present. This wasn’t the time for indulgence; he needed Duskmoor to listen to him for a little longer before-

Zephyr paused, his thoughts branching out as his mind considered the potential consequences. He turned back to the wrecked sedan, leaving Isabel on his right in the corner of his vision as he pulled out his phone and deftly active the device before raising it to his ear, pivoting slightly as he did so until he felt he was exactly side on with the girl. He stayed that way for a few moments, his fingers drumming a steady beat on the keypad.

After perhaps half a minute the hessian lowered the phone again and uttered a drawn out sigh before turning back to his shapely companion and looking at her a mixture of exasperation and muted amusement.

“I can’t get a signal, make yourself useful and get those two idiots out of their coffin. Restrain them but don’t kill them, I want a few words with them before you make them scream.”

With that said Zephyr wandered a few feet away and back out into the rain where he took out his phone once more and spent the next minute or so uploading a series of files as he ignored the short lived screech of tearing metal. By the time he’d finished and wandered back, still quite dry, both of the would be bombers had been torn from their vehicle while Duskmoor alternated between glaring at him and the thugs under feet as she folded her arms beneath her chest.

It was almost as though she were baiting him, and for a moment the hessian was tempted to pull his phone out again, he refrained through and instead shifted his eyes from the thugs to his companion before he spoke in a serious tone.

“Good. The next time I tell you to stay behind though, at least try to listen, its common courtesy and you might just save yourself some trouble.”

The elementals eyes then lowered a fraction and voice lost some of its gravity and was replaced with something else as a smirk began to tug at his lips. “Speaking of manners though… didn’t your mother ever teach you it was rude to point?”

Even summer rain could be quite cold it seemed.

Isabel had very quickly decided that she hated the rain. Even more than the rain she hated the feeling of wet clothes sticking to her skin. It just felt so gross, the feeling concentrated and amplified all over her body every time she took a step and cause the cloth to slide and constrict with her movement. She'd have been pulling it away from her body compulsively and continuously had it not been for the bags in her hands. She probably should have grabbed her coat, and her boots for that matter. It looked like she'd be barefooting it back home. Wonderful.

Zephyr was a huge pain in the ass to keep up with even though she was sure he knew she was following him. It'd be impossible not to hear her cursing and wishing death upon everything in her line of vision every other step. He was probably moving just a little too fast on purpose. Jackass.

At least some misplaced anger could be expended in dragging the pair of bodies from the mangled wreck of what had been their getaway car. She didn't bother to be gentle as she pried to door off the car's frame, nor as she dragged the bodies out of the wreckage. There would be some blood on the pavement by the time she roughly dropped their bodies onto it, not all of it there before she'd gotten a hold on them. She didn't bother leaving their luggage at a safe distance beforehand. It'd serve him right if his bag got some red specks on it.

She simply made a face at him and his comment about listening to what he said. She'd never gotten into the habit of complying easily before, so why start now? She didn't really think he'd be calling the cops on her at this point in time anyhow. Not when things were getting rather dirty. She had her uses in such situations and she was almost positive the he preferred to have her get her hands dirty on his behalf whenever possible. That's how it had worked in the past.

However, his next comment completely derailed her thoughts and stripped her of any worry or care over disobeying whatever stupid commands he was issuing.

For a moment she was stuck on the mention of a mother. It was a common enough saying, but for someone like Isabel such a word always tried to dredge up a slew of unpleasant memories if she wasn't careful. No, her mother hadn't taught her much of anything except for self preservation, and that lesson had been an unintentional one.

It took her a moment more to realize what the young man had actually meant by his comment and that was only because she realized that he hadn't been looking at her face as he delivered the line.

Her mouth dropped open as she went to protest, but she couldn't quite think of anything to say that wasn't a slew of swears of threats. She allowed those to flow for a short while as a thin band of bone encircled her bust in order to correct the issue.

Turning her back on him, she went to work restraining the two individuals that she'd dropped on the ground, mumbling and grumbling rather loudly as she did so. The first she rolled onto his back ad fitted a collar-like band of bone to his neck which she then anchored to the pavement. His hands were pressed to his chest and sort of stapled there, the ends of both U-shaped bands twining themselves around the man's ribs. It wasn't long before the pain brought him back to consciousness and the screaming began.

The second individual was treated in much the same way before she stood and turned back to face Zephyr, hands on her hips and a bare foot on the neck of the second individual who was also beginning to come around. However, before she allowed him to get to the questioning that was to follow, the band around the neck she was resting a foot on rapidly constricted and neatly removed the head of the unfortunate man before he could get any decent screaming in.

"Whoops."

When Duskmoor finally managed to grasp the crux of his words the resulting flush of colour which spread across her cheeks proved to be both entertaining and somewhat appealing. In all the months he’d known the girl a mixture of embarrassment and shock were one of the few tried and true ways he’d found to render the brunette speechless and remove her nearly perpetual scowl.

It truly was quite a sight to see; still soaked to the bone the girl’s crimson features became increasingly flustered, her hazel eyes gradually widening as she stared back at him with an abashed disbelief even as her lips open soundlessly and refused to form words. Even the gamines posture fell prey as her stance lost its defiant edge, arms dropping mutely to her sides as she leaned back with a motion which nearly unbalanced her and caused the drenched material of her white shirt to tighten its already revealing embrace of the brunettes voluptuous figure.

She was at an utter loss and as he appreciated the view before him, the elemental couldn’t deny a certain satisfaction at having brought it about with nothing but a few well-chosen words.

Unfortunately however Duskmoor did eventually marshal her wits, if not her composure, and the soubrette swiftly replaced embarrassment with anger and began muttering a rather limited selection of curses as she hunched her shoulders and willed a band of bone over her breasts to try and regain what little modesty she could.

Surprisingly, although the girl muttered, cursed and gave all the other signs of one about to throw an impotent tantrum, the brunette actually did as she was told and proceeded to bind her two latest victims to the tarmac side by side with what were essentially nooses of bone not dissimilar to croquet hoops along with some form of internal stitching which fasted the wrists across the ribcage in an almost vampire like gesture.

The elemental was just beginning to wonder where in the world Duskmoor had managed to find a grain of self-control and how far she could stretch it when the screaming began and the soubrette turned back to him with an impudent glare and rested a bare foot on one of the ivory hoops just as the second man began to stir.

“Duskmoor…”

Zephyr’s tone carried a clear warning even as he narrowed his azure eyes at the gamine and fought to keep the rest of his features impassive. The soubrette intent was too apparent, and before he’d finished uttering her name the elemental knew the girl wouldn’t back down; she was simply drawing out the moment to sooth her ego and prove she could do whatever she wanted even though the brunette had to realize she’d be giving him a perfect excuse to retaliate.

That being said he could have stopped her; it would have been child’s play to unbalance her as she was and force her to remove her foot, cutting off yet another puerile outburst as he’d done far too often.

He did nothing.

Bone sliced through flesh with a sickening squelch and blood flowed across the ground in small torrents as the decapitated head of the luckier thug rolled out of view.

“Whoo-.”[/color]

She never heard herself finish. Air collapsed around her ears in a sudden violent burst, stunning her and destroying her balance just as though someone had clapped both her ears. A second blast of wind swept her legs from under her before she’d even truly begun to fall, leaving her parallel to the ground just long enough for the third blow which followed almost immediately, striking her stomach and crashing her into the tarmac back first and causing her head to follow in an almost whiplash motion.

The entire thing took roughly three seconds and when, after a further ten Duskmoor failed to do more than wheeze, Zephyr turned his attention to the thug who was his last remaining lead. The man was pale and shaking but had managed to stop screaming during the last few moments, though whether that was from control or mere lack of breath was uncertain.

Crouching down by the crouching victim the elemental treated the incompetent killer to a deathly serious stare. “We are going to chat, you and I, he spoke with a slow, deliberate cadence. “and if you’re very, very lucky you’ll tell me what I want know before my companion wakes up and repeats her performance.”

His right reached back into the shadows of the road and then returned holding the other mans severed, and still dripping, head. “She is quite the queen of hearts.”


---
((OOC: As always, do let me know if any edits are required.))

Apparently not caring about any potential backlash over her retaliatory display had been a bad idea. That one word hadn't even left her mouth before she'd been struck not just once, but several times without much warning at all. She'd have to stop forgetting how damn easy it was for him to knock her on her ass when she got worked up. Her temper seemed to be very good at suspending rational thought in favor of giving her room to have some fun.

But this wasn't any fun.

Three strikes and she was out, first her back closer to her shoulderblades, then her head and her hips almost simultaneously struck the ground, probably before the severed head had stopped rolling. Pain rocketed up her spine and through her skull as her body settled not unlike a dropped rag doll on the pavement. She hadn't taken the time to erect her usual hidden defenses before she'd stormed over to the car and as such the blow to the stomach had effectively knocked the wind out of her instead of just making her skin sting angrily.

She rolled onto her side, her arms wrapping around her head while she coughed, sputtered, and wheezed, trying to make her lungs work properly again. It felt like her skull was trying to split itself in half and had she not been desperately trying to dull the ache somehow, she'd have been worried over the possibility of a concussion.

And as if she hadn't been soaked enough just walking out into the downpour, now she was completely drenched, though not all of the wetness on the pavement was water anymore. Her fingers came back red when they were brought into her line of vision, though she wasn't yet sure if it belonged to her or to the body that had gushed all over the place. Her outfit would be totally unsalvageable now, she was sure.

She could hear her assailant speaking in a level tone not far from her. It sort of sounded like he was talking to a child, though it wasn't in the same chiding kind of way he used when speaking to her. He was probably speaking to the still living man bound on the ground while she was busy trying to pull herself together.

She'd kill that other man, too, the minute she could get her hands on him purely out of spite. Zephyr could have easily done without both of them living for his interrogation. That was the main reason her mind was screaming over how unfair her treatment continued to be. She'd like to see how well he'd do without anyone to question. It might be worth it to force him, and by extension herself, to walk in the rain some more to pursue his stupid investigation.

The body beside her turned out to be fairly useful as an aid in hosting herself up onto her hip, though it didn't remain very useful for long. Her temper was spiking dangerously. Her hand had found its way onto the bands holding the gradually cooling hands in place. The ribs they had wound themselves around began cracking and splitting and soon after the corpse's innards were being mangled and then displayed on the outside.

She'd turned onto her other hip in the process, not wanting to leave her back to Zephyr and his captive, wanting to see where he was and what he was doing. Intimidation seemed to be his game most of the time, the threats usually carried out by Isabel for the less cooperative individuals. She didn't want to wait to find out if the man on the ground was one of them.

The head dangling from the Wind Bag's grasp looked much better with a sizable spike through its eye in her opinions. Too bad it was the corpse, though. An eye patch might have been a good look for the other jerk. Maybe she could still figure that one out eventually. Another blade in his guts would do jut as nicely, though, if she could manage it. She just had to make it to her feet without faltering too much first and hope that he was distracted enough to give her the chance.

If there was one thing which could be said about Duskmoor it was that she obdurate to such a degree that she’d gained an almost unnatural resilience. Barely five minutes after he’d put her down the brunette was stirring and struggling to pull herself upright when men twice her size still would have been out cold. It was both an impressive, and annoying feat of endurance which forced the elemental to cut his back up plan short just as he’d been starting to drag answers from his overly unwilling and terrified audience.

Cest la vie. One could only work with what they had on hand, and it was going to require his full attention to ensure his comely companion didn’t kill the trussed up patsy prematurely. Still with that said, he likely had another two minutes at least before the gamine regained enough of her bearings to sit up and a further five before she’d be able to use her feet; internal equilibrium was a delicate thing after all.

Keeping track of his shapely companion in the back of his mind Zephyr turned his thoughts back to his ad hoc interrogation and lowered the severed head he’d been holding onto the remaining mans chest. The thug flinched and possibly paled another few shades but otherwise said nothing, apparently pre occupied with controlling his pained breathing.

“Now then Dan, where were we? Ah yes, location, location, location. Where can I find Biggs?”

“Fu-uck. You. I tell you and I’m de-ead.”[/color] The response was short and stunted by intermittent coughing but the mixture of fear and defiance was all too evident as the goons eyes alternated between the decapitated head of his former teammate and Duskmoors slowly rising figure a fact Zephyr had little qualms capitalizing on.

“My partner can only spend so long on her back Dan.” He pitched his words just enough for the dazed soubrette and nearly smirked when he was rapidly rewarded with the sounds tearing flesh and breaking bones under the bonemancers seething temper.

"If you don’t tell me what I want before she changes position you’re going to die regardless.” This time Duskmoors response was far more… intent. The elemental felt the brunette raise a wavering arm as something slim and sharp slipped from the skin of her wrist into her palm before hefted the spike like an oversized dart and launched it with surprising accuracy through the air.

Some people never learned.

That being said the elemental found he had no need to alter the weapons course as it bypassed him entirely and instead embedded itself into the severed head resting atop Dan chest, causing the man to yell quite audibly at the tip just barely protruded the dead mans face and caused it to topple down.

Despite the fact it had only been thrown perhaps four feet it was a rather commendable shot given that the girl still had to be suffering from both vertigo and nausea, not to mention the fact that she’d been relying on lighting which would have only cast her targets as silhouettes. In spite of Zephyr was almost impressed, however that didn’t man he’d be giving her any leniency; he couldn’t afford to.

“Duskmoor.” The name echoed ominously in the gloom, no longer a warning but a clear threat as the elemental weighted his words with as much menace as he could gather. “I’ve disciplined you before,”

Raising his head to face the soubrette properly in the limited light the hessians eyes were beyond cold as he focused on the buxom brunette. “If you continue like this,” The night air clamped around her still outstretched arm, hauling her to one side, and the backwards. “I will do so again.” Now facing away from him she was dragged over the ruined corpse and pinned there even as her legs scrambled futilely to lift her.

“And I will make you enjoy it.”

As suddenly as the pressure had arrived it vanished and Duskmoor was able to scramble away in an almost drunken fashion. “Do you understand?” Without even waiting for a reply the elemental seemingly dismissed the girl and turned lowered his head back to his captive subject.

Isabel was just beginning to struggle to her knees, attempting to prevent herself from being sick with all the movement, when her spoken name arrested her attention. It wasn't so much the name itself, for she loathed it no matter who used it, but the tone that made her pause in her struggling movement. Zephyr was nearly always scolding her and talking to her like she she was some kind of little kid or like he was amused by her every attempt to spite or injure him. When he spoke this time, however, there was an undeniable threat laced through the word.

She wasn't about to apologize for her actions or anything. To hell with that. But maybe she had been toeing the line just a little too closely. Outright threats were not something she dealt with very often, at least not from the mutants she worked with, and while they were usually brushed off or laughed at in other situations she couldn't quite repress the chill that ran up her spine at the recollection that Zephyr was one of very few individuals that could actually go through with any issued threats with very little trouble.

And as if on cue the moment the thought dawned on her, her wrist was seized and she was yanked over and back, left nearly sprawling over the mess of a corpse she'd just mutilated. She made a face at the noises the body issued as her weight was forced down on it as well as the warmer wetness that it spread across the front of her shirt. It did absolutely nothing for her existing nausea.

At least he released her this time after the initial threat of 'discipline' unlike last time and she was left to puzzle over the additional promise as he turned back to his victim. Making her enjoy some sort of discipline? She wasn't so sure it was possible. Their last encounter had merely left her angry at both him and herself while her skin was stinging and her pride was in tatters.

Carefully and distractedly pushing herself away from the cadaver, trying her best not the slip and slide in he mess, she tried to retrain her sights on the two figures not far from her, though her thoughts were beginning to swim and make the task very difficult.

He had to have been bluffing, at least with the last part. There was just no way he could do that. Was there? It wasn't like she'd ever enjoyed any mount of his company before, and certainly not the strikes and counter strikes they were constantly launching against each other. Dealing with Zephyr was like a waking nightmare.

And yet, even though her mind was still caught in a bit of a fog, it still somehow managed to sift through her remembered interactions with the young man and amplify a few unsettling details. His disembodied presence giving her a lift, the way he could appear and disappear at will, the fact that he could do the same with her, his ability to seemingly make clothing simply vanish, the way a creeping breeze had brushed across her skin while her throat felt like it was filling with ice.

Her temper had been derailed, but it had remained simmering beneath the surface and now she was beginning to panic on top of it. It as like throwing gasoline on a fire. Her head was beginning to clear now, though it still throbbed painfully, and her breathing was becoming shallower yet again.

No. That was where she drew the line. There was no way in hell she was going to let anyone threaten or treat her in such a way. She was done letting the young man push her around. No more stupid back and forth, not more half-assed attempts at maiming. That was it, the last straw.

She was already bringing her feet up under her, her balance being helped along by the adrenaline that was starting to course through her body. She didn't need too much balance for her split second planning anyway. Just had to angle her body toward his and sort of launch herself that way. Even if he knocked her a little off course, like he had been able to do with the knife-like projectile in the hotel room, she'd still be close enough to make some kind of move against him.

The eyepatch idea was so out. She wasn't aiming to maim anymore. Her aim was to kill, and that was so easy to do with individuals that couldn't protect themselves like she could. If she could just slip the blade she found in her hand through his ribs or up under his sternum then she was almost certain to hit something important and leave him bleeding out on the pavement.

Tracking Duskmoor reeling figure from the corner of his vision Zephyr raised a hand to the bridge of his nose to ward of a headache which was only partly feigned as fought to remain impassive. Credit where it was due the girl’s macabre, and petulant display, had provided a rather effective does of intimidation and it had gone a long way towards loosening their captives tongue.

Annoyingly however the soubrette had been, as usual, overzealous in her efforts and so the pairs only lead had become gibbering wreck, spouting a feckless blend of prayers, curses and other heedless whimpering’s. The man was going to be useless for at least the next five minutes, possibly longer once he finally realized that his own ribs had been pulled loose and used to bind his hands.

Five minutes. A good deal could be done in five minutes; the elemental knew that quite well. It was just long enough to brew a pot of tea and, as he watched Duskmoor stagger blindly to her feet, he decided it was more than enough time to give errant upstart of a gamine a guiding hand, and that simply would not do.

He’d need to draw things out a little.

Rising from his crouched position Zephyr drew in a deep breath which then became an audible sigh as glanced at his companion with an expression of open irritation as she swayed towards him with motions usually reserved for those that had more alcohol than blood in their system. Any adolescent with a baseball bat could probably take her down as she was right now yet the gamine carried on regardless, so certain in her own lack of mortality that she didn’t even consider her safety and simply let her anger take charge.

“Think very carefully Duskmoor.” Stepping softly to his left Zephyr kept his gaze fixed on the ingénues silhouette, taking another short step away from their bound victim when the soubrette veered unsteadily in her course to match him, yet otherwise remained strangely silent.

“We’ve done this little dance before, are you truly so eager for another lesson in discipline?” He kept his arms loosely by his side now as he continued to step back into the shadows of the bridge, relying on his eyes less and less as the light faded by degrees and Duskmoor continued to trudge after him, the blade in her hand all to visible to his to his other senses.

In truth Zephyr knew that trying to talk the girl down was a futile exercise at best. The brunet was almost the perfect personification of the age old stereotype of brains without brawn all too easily stirred to anger. Once an idea became lodged in her thick skull the only way to change her mind was to beat the thought out of her. The only thing the gamine respected was violence and any lack of such was interpreted as weakness.

It was clichéd, it was foolish, and above all it was predictable.

“Last chance Duskmoor, back down, apologize and I might just forget this latest bout of idiocy.” He was being deliberately antagonistic at this point and he knew it. Unlike some however his bellicosity served a dual purpose; the greater the soubrettes anger grew the more she focused on him and thus less effort would be needed to guard their panicked captive. At this point Zephyr had his doubts the girl even remembered the man lying some ten feet behind her.

As for his secondary motivation in aggravating the girl well, suffice to say he’d been anticipating teaching the girl restraint for quite some time.

It worked all too well; fury coloured the girl features as she abruptly urged herself into an awkward run, water flying with every footstep. Her shoulders weaving from side to side as she fought to keep her precarious balance over the short distance. Then she lunged. Her right hand lashing out and down with a shard of bone in a motion which would have gutted her target from shoulder to hip.

It never landed, if she’d been in a better state the soubrette likely would have been far faster, but she was angry and still more than a little dazed. Evading the strike would have been child’s play yet Zephyr went one step further, seizing the brunettes wrist with one hand he pivoted, pulling her forward and further off balance.

The moment her momentum carried her passed her passed him Zephyr shifted his grip and pulled again, forcing the girls arm across her body as he all but dragged her towards him. The movement caused Duskmoor to all but trip over her own feet as she spun, a second spike of bone appearing in her left hand as she tried another ill-advised strike, only for it to be caught in the elementals grip as the blow went wide and the two collided with each other.

For a moment they simply stood still, the brunettes blood stained shirt quickly soaking the elementals own attire as they stood front to front with the gamines arms held in an awkward X with each hand lightly pinned to the opposite hip.

Then the moment passed and Zephyr sighed, his insides feeling hollow and his grip failing almost as soon as his partner gathered her wits and began to struggle.

“Pathetic.” The disdain was evident in his tone as he looked down at the gamines furious features. “I shouldn’t even be able to stand this close, let along hold you down. How di-“

A sudden series of coughs wracked the mercenary’s body. His shoulders slumped as a slow burning pain in his chest began to penetrate the haze of his medication. He reeled briefly and released Duskmoor before taking a step back, lifting a hand to his chest and glancing down at it even though he knew what he’d find there.

A spike of bone protruded from his ribcage, one far too large for comfort and turning crimson at a rate which was far from healthy. Before he could even try to remove the weapon his legs buckled and he fell.

That was... so easy. Was an up close assault all it really took to get the job done? All that time wasted throwing things and stomping her feet or trying to choke him in the past, and all she really had to do was just walk up and stab him? Well, stagger. She was still feeling rather dizzy and lightheaded in between the pounding that was starting to settle in her skull.

She couldn't help releasing the laugh that bubbled up as Zephyr staggered backward with a length of bone protruding from his chest, freeing up her arms which reabsorbed the weapons she still held in her hands. There was a hole in the middle of her shirt now that nearly matched the one the young man sported in his chest, the protrusion having originated from her sternum from just below and sightly between her bust. She wasn't so concerned about any skin that could be seen through the ripped fabric for the time being. She was much too busy admiring her work and giggling over the absurdity of his expression and the ease of which the act had been committed.

He wouldn't have been able to pull the thing out even if he'd had enough time to try. At least, not without a good amount of difficulty and even more pain. She'd gotten into the habit of barbing whatever blades she lodged into a person's body to ensure additional damage if they somehow survived.

Her giggling began to die down as the young man collapsed. She didn't last too long on her own feet, sinking down onto her knees as her body swayed again with another wave of dizziness. She'd have to not try and sprint for a little while and hopefully it would help her head stop spinning shortly.

She watched Zephyr's prone form for a while, absentmindedly picking at the ripped fabric of her shit at the chilly rain hit her bare skin. It looked as if his breathing was getting shallower, and certainly sounded rather ragged, punctuated by the occasional cough, though she made no move to assist him. He totally got what he deserved. Definitely. He'd been practically inviting her to maim him since the first moment she'd met him, and certainly hadn't let up once she made it clear she was serious about doing him harm.

So why the hell was there a bubble of panic starting to swell up in her chest?

Maybe it was because she'd just stabbed an Order member. She was never, ever supposed to harm another Orderling. She was supposed to protect them, and they were to watch her back in return. They were the one group of people that were relatively safe from her temper. A select few she could perhaps see herself injuring non-fatally, but never would she have dreamed of shoving a spike into their chest. She was also now alone in a city she was unfamiliar with and would be left to her own devices to find her way back home.

What was she supposed to say to Lori and Lenna when they realized one of their members had up and disappeared, and if and when they found out that he'd departed with Isabel before his disappearance? How was she supposed to explain that, and would anyone even try to believe whatever excuse she might come up with knowing her violent tendencies? So was going to be in so much trouble.

Carefully getting to her feet so as not to lose her balance, she took the few steps required to place herself next to the young man's body, looking down at him in mild concern. It wasn't exactly that she felt bad for stabbing him. More so she was worried about what would happen to her once she manage to get home and had to face the Boss Ladies. Heaving a sigh to try and make herself feel more exasperated than worried, she bent down to grab ahold of the protruding spike and retract it, reabsorbing it into her body.

Her hands dropped onto her hips as she surveyed the damage. There was a nice big hole in his body and the water on the ground was beginning to turn a watery red color. There was no way she could repair that. Even if she knit his skin back together, there's still be internal bleeding from the torn muscles and it looked like he'd lost a good amount of blood already. Maybe she'd punctured a lung or something, she couldn't quite tell from looking at the gore.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. What was she supposed to do now? Dump the body somewhere and head home? Leave him to bleed to death and make a run for it? She couldn't call for assistance. That would mean cops and EMTs, not that she really thought he'd make it that long anyway. She couldn't very well drag the body back to New York, and what purpose would that even serve? She certainly wasn't going to be digging a grave or anything. Maybe she'd leave him with the hostage and let the guy's employer take care of the mess.

She was getting angry again. Not at herself but at Zephyr, as usual. What the hell was he playing at, dragging her all the way out there just to turn around and let her stab him? Wasn't he supposed to be some infuriatingly adept mutant? He'd disappeared from right under her the last time she'd tried to kill him and he had to go and croak now? What was he even doing bringing her to a strange city anyway? What was he looking for? What the hell! She gave him a kick in her frustration, not that it'd do much good.

Maybe the other guy would know something, but what was she even supposed to be asking him? She didn't know what she was supposed to be doing, aside from tagging along for intimidation and getting her hands dirty, as per usual with his stupid assignments.

Shit.

This wasn’t happening.

This wasn’t @#%&$*! happening.

It was just a dream, a bad &%@#^$! dream. Any moment he’d wake up to the sound of the usual morning dump truck going past his cramped littered apartment. He wouldn’t be nailed to the street, half drowned by the rain and looking at Matt’s sever-

He was shaking, his breaths came in ragged gasps as he fought to get ahold of himself again even as stomach tried to dry heave.

He was going to die. Hewasgoingtodie. He was-

Something hit his throat and he choked, eyes flying open wide as he glanced about frantically in the dim light for whatever had hit him but he only saw empty air.

“do you want to live?”

If he hadn’t been pinned down he easily would have jumped a foot. The words were soft, but clearly audible and for all the world they seemed to be coming straight form the decapitated head on his left.

“$#%!, $#%! I’m going crazy..”[/color] The whimpering words were cut off before they could fully form as the same choking pressure hit his throat and allowed the voice to interrupt.

“maybe, maybe not, think of me as the voice in your head that doesn’t want to die. now listen…”

---

”H-Hey! Is he dead? If he is he had a price on his head. I, I think we could help each other outI [/color]

Shit, shit, shit.

A rather colorful repertoire of choice words were circling through Isabel's head as she started pacing. She still hadn't figured out what she was supposed to be doing and was painfully aware that she was wasting time with her indecision. It was amazing no one else had happened along after the crash, especially with how much noise the impact had made. Surely there'd be police or someone coming before much longer and she would very much like to avoid having to deal with those people when she was already in trouble.

Lori was going to kill her when she found out. She was sure of it. Every excuse she could think of sounded lamer and less believable than the last. There was just no way she could justify killing a fellow Order member, especially one with such a powerful and versatile mutation. Lori was going to kill her.

Or worse. What was she going to do if she was removed from the Sanctuary instead? If she was forced out of the Order? How could the Boss Ladies allow someone in the Faction that wasn't above killing other members? Not that she'd ever expected to kill another Orderling. It had just sort of happened. It was entirely Zephyr's fault, but with him being dead there wasn't really anyone else to put the blame on but her. She'd definitely be hoisted out onto the street.

But she didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to think about what she'd do without the Sanctuary and the Order. She was panicking enough as it was without dwelling on such things. She still had to figure out what to do with the body and how to get back home while she was still allowed there.

She had just begun to wonder if there might be a bridge near by that she could dump the corpse off of when a rather hoarse voice addressed her. She'd almost forgotten about the man pinned to the ground not far from where she currently stood. He had been just another goon to toy with and then kill, but now he was an asset. For the time being anyway. She was still going to kill him later.

Kicking the severed head out of her way as she strode over to the man's prone body, she knelt down beside him and placed a hand none too delicately upon the bands of bone that bound his hands to his ribs. The resulting wheeze made her feel a little better. If she was tormenting this individual, at least she was doing something beside worrying.

So Zephyr was a wanted man, huh? Maybe the reward money would work in her favor when she next ran into Boss One and Boss Two? "Is that so?" she prompted, leaning her weight against his ribcage as a little incentive that he should continue to be useful. "And what exactly could you offer me? You're not really in any position to barter."

$#%!, $#%!, why had he said anything? He should have just kept quiet, the crazy bitch had forgotten about him but now she was staring at him like a piece of road kill, leaning on him, making his ribs creak and all he could see in the dark was blood and bone and more blood-

“tell her.”

The voice returned with the same choking sensation which caused him to cough and splutter as he fought to get his breath back and struggled to find the words he needed as his heart hammered frantically in his chest.

“you can help”
“I can h-help.”[/color]

‘she’s in trouble, killed her partner’
“Th-that guy you killed, he was yer partner right? Could be trouble if anyone found out it was you?”[/color]

‘someone else could be blamed, the boss could help.’
“We, we could blame someone else. My boss, he wanted the bastard dead anyway, was going to pay $50K to whoever killed him. He- he could help blame someone else for the kill.”[/color]

And on it went, Dan didn’t have a fucking clue how the voice knew what to say but at some point the look the blood soaked bitch was giving him changed and his bones seemed to stop aching soon after. At that point he just stopped question and followed the prompts as they came, talking about how the British bastard had gotten a price on his head, to how he could help the girl see his boss, get paid and have someone else take the rap for the kill.

If she didn’t kill him.

That was a point Dan felt bore repeating a few times.

Then, somehow, they were driving down the interstate in a car they’d hotwired off the street, with the dead muties body in the trunk, sans spear which wouldn’t have fit any way you looked at it. Perhaps most surprising though was that the bone bitch was actually letting him drive since he’d made such a big deal about knowing where to go.

That being said she had strapped him to the seat with her own version of a six point harness, but since she hadn’t used his ribs to do it he was counting it as progress and was actually starting to feel somewhat hopeful.

Well, that had been easier than anticipated. The goons they'd questioned in New York tended to be a little more uncooperative and made it necessary to get much more persuasive than simply leaning on an injury. But then not everyone had the same level of pain tolerance, nor had they had a companion's head occupying their chest, however shortly. Pain and fear were excellent motivators and it was almost a shame that she didn't have to toy with the man a little more before he spilled his guts.

So Zephyr was a wanted man, and one with a hefty sum on his head to boot. That didn't particularly surprise her after having to put up with his nonsense herself. And $50K was a pretty enticing sum. Even if she had no personal use for such funds it might make a pretty nice gift for her Bosses to use as they pleased. The guy even suspected they could find her someone to pin the whole mess on. It was just promising enough to allow Isabel to set aside and suspicions about how the man seemed to know exactly how to get her out of the mess she'd barreled into.

Dead bodies turned out to be heavier and more awkward to handle than she'd anticipated, even one as scrawny as Zephyr's, and it took more effort than she was pleased with to stuff him into the fortunately rather roomy trunk. And if she hadn't been bloody enough before, the front of her shirt was positively saturated with the stuff after handling the corpse with the gaping hole in its chest. She heaved a sigh, hating the feeling of wet cloth sticking to her skin. She didn't think she'd ever wanted to shower and change into clean clothes so badly in her life.

She'd left the goon lying on the ground while she located a vehicle, packed up the body, and threw her soggy bag of clothing in the back seat. It would be just her luck for the guy to make a run for it while her back was turned. Strapping him into the driver's seat was another precaution. If she was going to have him escort her to wherever it was they were going, she was going to be sure that he had a constant reminder that she could do him some serious harm if she really wanted to, even if she had agreed not to kill him if he held up his end of the deal. At least until the transaction was complete, but he didn't have to know that just yet.

The ride didn't seem to take too long, but then she'd been rather engrossed in picking drying blood out from under her nails and inspecting her hair for the same. There wasn't much she could do for her outfit. She couldn't even sew the fabric back together where that spear had torn through it; it was too shredded and trying to pull the edges together would have made it much too tight on her body. She probably wouldn't have remembered how to get back to where she'd been anyway, even if she had been watching the road. It wasn't like it mattered where she was starting from to head back home A strange city was strange in its entirety.

She wasn't so sure what she was expecting to run into once they arrived at their destination, but overall it was much quieter than she'd anticipated. No barbed wire or visible security cameras, no armed guard or anything that she could see at a quick glance. But then, if the boss guy was the kind of person to place such a large offer on someones head, their reputation might precede them. That, or they were just good at hiding their muscle.

She had her captive handle the body this time. That way she could keep an eye on him and she wouldn't have to deal with a bloody corpse, both of which were a good thing. She had unpinned the harness from the car seat only to have it clamp around his body in turn. It was so much easier to kill him quickly if he was already wrapped up in a potential weapon. It didn't hurt to have him walking in front of her to be seen, either. If he belonged to the guy buying Zephyr's head, then it was probably in her best interest to have him make the introductions and walk her into the place.