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“While government authorities are still investigating the closure of the rift, no official announcements have been made. However that hasn’t stopped it from dominat-”[/font]

The blaring television down the hall clicked to sudden silence, drawing no few cries of dismay, yet Simon found himself barely giving them a second thought as he stifled a yawn and tried to sit up before abandoning the effort. Tilting his head upwards instead as his azure eyes swept room; passing over paintings, furniture and pausing only briefly on the hanging clock which happily removed whatever minute little sliver of guilt he might have felt for unplugging the tv.

What on earth were people even doing up at this hour? Damn near the entire city had been crowded around the Rift when it finally sealed itself shut just three minutes before midnight. He knew it had been three minutes before midnight because he’d been banking on another day and started counting every second when he realized it was actually sealing early and had almost lost a hand when he ghosted through at the last moment.

Still, after spending the better part of a year in another reality he’d made it home, even if he’d been left feeling like a tangled ribbon with far too many frayed ends for comfort. The feeling did eventually pass and when the quarantine zone finally opened after an hour he’d managed to drag himself out and get lost amongst the throngs of loitering New Yorkers enjoying what street theatre still lingered.

From there well, he’d been so exhausted that things faded in and out. After being away for so long the one apartment lease he’d held had expired, and he hadn’t enough money on hand for hotel and while he could have paid on credit it would have caused a paper trail that raised more questions than he really wanted to answer.

Especially when there somewhere that would accept him free of charge.

It was at that point the bed shifted and Simon found himself glancing down at a curtain of brown hair as its owner tried to burrow further into him. Clinging tightly to his side in an effort to escape the cold of fallen blankets the soubrettes movements only served to remind the hessian how much neither of them were wearing and how exactly they’d gotten to that point.

It wasn’t as though he’d expected it to happen.

Granted it wasn’t the first… or second, time they’d shared a bed.

..and he might have forgotten how well kisses distracted her; they hadn’t seen each other for a year.

...And she’d still felt the need to track him down in the middle of the night.

How had she’d even known to look for him though? The only person he’d told was his sis-

“God damn it Maya.” He muttered, covering his eyes with his free hand and drawing in a slow breath as he forced his weary mind to work and after several moment he realized he was avoiding the real issue, the elephant in the room, or more precisely, the buxom brunette in his bed.

A one night stand was precisely that, a repeat could be chalked up to coincidence, but a third night? That, that was starting to become habit and the fact he couldn’t tell if that was good or bad spoke volumes he still didn’t want to consider.

When had Isabel become complicated?

Frowning slightly as Poseidon walked away from his question Dio resisted the urge to sigh, he’d seen the type of manic grin the older man was sporting in others and well, suffice to say he hoped the man was simply being dramatic; a showman he could deal with, even predict if he cared enough but a zealot? Well, truth be told they were also predictable but generally not in a good way.

Catching the puzzled look Isabel shot him as their impromptu barkeep crossed the floor Simon rolled his eyes towards the older man before pitching his voice so only the brunette could hear “He wants to show off, we may as well indulge him.” Rising from his seat the hessian finished his glass and placed a gentle hand on Isabel’s shoulder before she could hurry off to catch their guide. “No need to rush, we’re not lost lambs-” he paused for a moment and then amended “merely displaced tourists.”

Nudging the girl to walk with him as Poisedon called back to them Simon adopted a steady stride that wasn’t rushed but still allowed them to catch up as he continued whispering in a tone that was both resigned and bemused, “If this is what I think it is we shouldn’t seem too eager for him to lead us by the nose.” It wasn’t the most subtle power play but given everything that had already happened tonight subtle wasn’t really in the cards, still leverage was leverage and the hessian wasn’t going to abandon what little bargaining power they had before an offer had even been made.

He deliberately avoided mentioning that last part, partly because he doubted Isabel would react well when she recognized the social manipulation for what it was, but mainly he was hoping she didn’t realize he was guilty of using the same tactic on her all too often.

Passing through the employee only area Dio kept his gaze straight ahead, keeping Isabel in the corner of his eye while letting his spatial awareness map the layout of the building for him. As such he was less than surprised when the hidden elevator revealed itself and they were gestured inside as Poseidon began his pitch and to be fair he wasn’t a bad orator but his vision was one the hessian had heard too many times to be caught up in it, that wasn’t to say he disagreed with all of it merely that he was more circumspect.

When the elevator doors opened they were treated to the sight of a modest waiting room, well modest by the standards of the club upstairs. There were chandeliers or ocean views, instead they were greeted by the silver eyed gaze of their driver, Mr Manchester, and another raven haired woman who looked to have stepped straight from a sci-fi movie. The latter of which was which was both promising and concerning; technological superiority was generally a necessity for any less than legal enterprise and not having it on your side meant it could be used against you.

”Mr. Dio...My sweet lady Isabel…welcome to the Syndicate.

"The Syndicate, huh? Not a bad place, Old Man, but what exactly is the Syndicate and what's it do? And what do you want us down here for?”

Despite the fatigue tugging at his mind Simon couldn’t help the slight smile which stole across his lips. Relevant questions, without an overt insult or threat? Was Duskmoor actually learning or had he inadvertently picked up an other world version… huh, that was a thought. Given how closely this dimension looked mirrored his own it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that there were copies of both Isabel and himself wandering around.

Something to look into later perhaps, right now there was a job offer to discuss. “We’re being recruited Isabel and I assume we’re down here because it’s more secure but also because our friend wants to make a statement about the resources at his disposal, underground complexes aren’t cheap after all.”

“As for what his group does, well I’m just as curious as you.”

In spite of the renovation notice Simon had half expected to be hit a wall of sound the moment he entered the club, different reality or not he was familiar with city night life; with it’s location right on the bay, glaring neon sign and heavy oak doors, Atlantis had the markings of a high rollers club and rave bar.

As he descended into the deserted club after Poseidon and Isabel, he found his suspicions confirmed. Although the place was empty as a grave its acoustics were great enough that their footsteps left echoes sufficient for a group several times their size as they walked past reinforced doors, tarp covered tables and backlit windows that looked beneath the waves of the bay.

Then there was the bar itself, larger than most city apartments it took up at least a quarter of the floor and had the usual array of expensive looking bottles with indecipherable labels. Granted it was a tad odd they’d not been covered or removed given the tarps displayed elsewhere; it suggested that the renovations weren’t quite as extensive as hinted at outside, though considering what little he knew of the owner Simon wouldn’t have been surprised if the construction was just a cover for more illicit activities, especially considering the network of tunnels and floors he could sense beneath them, at least one of which connected directly to the bay.

It was like he’d stepped into some sort of bond-esque villain lair, a notion Poseidon did little to dissuade as he stepped casually behind the darkened bar, producing a trio of glasses almost without looking and offering them seats before asking them to pick their poison while retriving a bottle for himself.

Tempting as it was to see just how expensive extensive the drinks selection was Simon shook his head and politely declined, settling simply for water. His ‘medication’ didn’t play well with alcohol and he wanted a clear head for what was likely going to be some form of negotiation.

Isabel however held no such reservations, happily asking for a shot of tequila and downing it with a happy sigh that turned into a smirk as their impromptu barman complimented her panicked struggle against the adapted, leaving Simon to frown briefly. She may have only had one of his pills but she also hadn’t built up any sort of tolerance to it and the last thing they needed right now was a repeat of the Sanctuary thunderstorm.

Annoyingly he couldn’t afford to say as much given their current audience, while Poseidon had helped them so far Dio was a ways from trusting him with such information, instead he waited until the man busied himself pouring his own drink Dio nudged Isabel’s arm and then glanced meaningfully at her glass when he caught her eye before shaking his head.

”That is also a hell of a way to be introduced to our universe. Then again, the government isn’t usually known for rolling out the red carpet. How did you manage to find yourselves here?”

As the question had clearly been aimed at Isabel Simon took a sip from his own glass and let the brunette talk. Tempting as it was to speak for her and so lead Poseidon to look to him for answers, it would only work if the soubrette stayed silent which was doubtful at the best of times. No, better to let her answer the relatively innocuous question and provide detail or distraction where needed.

“...Got caught up in the mess when that Rip thing opened and got tossed through it somehow and wound up here. Dio came to find me and then we ran into those SUPER jerks before we could get back to our side."


Such as now, at least she’d kept his name straight. “The rift appeared during a small scale lunar festival on our side. Before stabilizing it acted much like a black hole, I’d be rather surprised if Isabel was the only one caught up in it. That said, it calmed down fairly quickly and I had little trouble following her in the confusion left behind.”

“If you don’t mind me asking Poseidon, what are you after? I appreciate your assistance but I doubt it was an act of charity and I dislike being in others debt.” When they were capable of calling it in at least.

“Poseidon” Simon paused briefly at that moniker before nodding, a part of him suddenly rather glad that he’d decided to avoid his usual sobriquet. Granted the hessian really had no room to talk, but still, when you named yourself after the greek god of the Ocean you willingly abandon any pretense of mystery about your mutation. Such blatant titles were generally only used by the arrogant, who believed themselves untouchable, and the powerful who had more to gain from the reputation boost of such an alias then they lost from having their powers known.

Given from what he’d seen of Bristle Poseidon thus far, Simon could comfortably assign the man to the latter category, which was both a good and bad thing; the former because it meant the man likely had resources and would actually be capable of assisting Isabel and himself in escaping. The latter however was because the type of personality who could both acquire such resources, hold them and commit cold blooded murder without hesitation tended to not be the most mentally balanced of individuals.

As such Simon was more than willing to play things close to the chest until he had a better grasp of their benefactors characters, even if that meant using an alias he’d never used with Isabel before. He’d just have to hope the girl retained enough presence of mind to avoid his other appellation until it no longer mattered.

With those thoughts put to rest Dio turned his attention to the rest of Posiedons statement, the existence of organization named SUPER who apparently held no reservations in attacking mutants with unknown capabilities was… not surprising precisely, but more depressing. People who charged headfirst at the unknown tended to be either zealots/thugs who cared nothing about the risks and were easily replaceable, or government agents who thought themselves prepared and again, were easily replaceable due to the bottom pit of debt most governments could issue.

Going by the fact they were expected to oversee the Rift Simon was edging towards SUPER being a government agency and the fact that he had Isabel had run across them in less than an hour, left him with no small amount of irritation. He couldn’t even honestly claim it was all Isabel’s fault since he had attracted a fair amount of attention when he’d spirited her away.

Not that he was going to tell her that.

Speaking of the girl Simon stole another glance at the brunette. Even with using his handkerchief to clean up the worst of the blood the the bunettes features were still coated in crimson and her lips held an unpleasant grimace, though that would hopefully fade once the medication she’d taken kicked in. Her eyes also seemed more focused which was a good sign. Making out anything more than though was difficult given the dried gore on her face and shirt, they’d have to do something about that; admittedly it was part of and parcel of her fighting style but that amount of blood tended to draw attention.

“We’re headed to my club, if that suits you? SUPER knows better than to come by without cause and you both are free to wait there until things calm down. Trust me, SUPER will be buzzing around that rip like bees pollinating a virgin garden.”

Yes, they’d definitely need to do something about her appearance if they were going to a public venue, even one that was likely just a front for illicit activities. The fewer people who took note of them the better.

"And who's SUPER? The guys that jumped us? ….what's gonna stop them from showing up at your little club?"

“At a guess, SUPER is some Quasi-government organization tasked with handling mutant activities” He cut in smoothly, squeezing the brunettes knee lightly as he gave her a quiet look that conveyed his exasperation with her tone. They did not need to annoy the man who was currently their guide and potential benefactor in a world they had no place being in. “Otherwise they wouldn’t be expected to ‘swarm’ the Rift yes?” He asked glancing back at Poseidon for confirmation.

“As for why they wouldn’t assault our new friends club well…” He squeezed Isabel leg again and caught her eye. “If I had to wager, I’d say the place is an unofficial Sanctuary, one of those places everyone knows is up to no good but too much trouble for the authorities to deal with.” He turned to Poseidon once more. “Would that be fair assessment?”

“Now with that being said, it would probably be best if we didn’t attract too much attention and unfortunately Isabel” He gestured at her face and shirt. “you rather scream attention right now. No offense meant to your security Poseidon” He added to the bearded man, “but the less memorable we are the better, so Isabel, would you object if I took care of the mess? You won’t feel a thing, I promise.”

Adapted were anathema to mutants.

A surprisingly simple concept, and unlike most conventional wisdom it had the benefit of not being entirely wrong. The ability to utterly negate powers was something most mutants were ill prepared to face, especially those who used their gifts day in and day out, in much the same way that modern teennagers felt adrift without their cellphones.

Perhaps even worse than the adapted itself however was the fear and uncertainty regarding their abilities. Like most mutants, on the surface there was nothing that made them stand out from the crowd, you could stand right next to one and be none the wiser. It wasn’t until you tried, and failed to use your powers that it became apparent, and then the questions began.

Where were they? Was it the person next to you? The group walking down the street? Someone in a passing car? It was almost impossible to tell.

Did they know about you? Were they doing it on purpose? Why would they be following you? What was their range and were you even going the right way to leave?

Simple questions but while they built upon and revolved around each other, ultimately they hinged on the fact that most mutants couldn’t spot adapteds or determine their range. For those who could however the situation became rather different.

From one step to the next Simon felt the world the world swim as the crack of another bullet cut through the air and he suddenly became aware of the winds hurtling between city blocks, the winding gusts which followed traffic and wound down back alleys and every quiescent patch of air in passing cars and nearby buildings. He felt all of it, and in that moment between steps his feet left the ground and failed to return.

Having only barely made it out of the park to begin with, returning to the scene of the fight, what little remained of it,took next to no time at all. The sight that greeted him however gave Simon pause and left him lingering by the nearest tree.

Isabel was still alive, that much would have been clear even without what little light was left in the park, and if the volume of her cursing was any indication the shapely soubrette was, if not fine, then at least not terribly injured. Her assailant was dead, as expected, though the still bleeding bullet hole in the man's temple was not.

Still, it took no great leap of logic to trace the wound back to yet another new arrival; this one just tall enough to look down on the brunette with a build that was largely concealed by some form of suit, though glinting gold gun in his hand hand suggested he’d the means to afford attire finer than most. So tentative ally at best and incredibly naive samaritan at worst, though given he’d killed for a complete stranger Simon was leaning more towards the former. Either way he wasn’t immediately hostile and was actually trying to play nice if the hand he’d offered Duskmoor was any indication.

Not needing to see how that particular scene would play out (the man would probably keep his hand, at least until Duskmoor realized she had her powers back) Simon cast his senses out, taking in the surrounding area and was only slightly surprised when he noted his own attacker curled up behind a another tree only a few feet away.

Well, that made one less loose end.

---

Returning only a few moments later, said loose end dragged behind him, the elemental found little had changed though Isabel’s posture, spoke of a sudden weariness. Was she just running out of adrenaline or was it something more? He hadn’t been able to tell for certain what they’d been hit with earlier but he’d not been able to find a tranquilizer dart, though he’d effectively been blind when he was looking. Regardless it would probably be best if he stepped in-

"...Scrawny guy with a dumb face, he was just with me. Did you see where he went?

-or he could just wait and let the girl dig herself a hole, it wouldn’t take that long; she rarely even needed a shovel most days. Yes, he‘d just take another moment or two to make sure no one else was sneaking up on them and give his ‘partner’ the courtesy of finishing her train of thought.

“I have to find him, he's my… person"

“…”

“ I can't leave him here with these people I need to know where he went."

“...”

That… that was- He honestly didn’t know whether to be confused, irritated, amused, touched or some combination of all thereof. No scratch that, he definitely had the first one, it was the other three which were threatening to give him a headache and that simply wasn’t fair.

Good grief, when had Isabel become complicated?

No, no this was not the time for this, he could fixate on how she’d someone managed to dig herself out of a hole later. For now they needed to get moving, mysterious ally or not.

Walking out into the slightly lighter shadows with only a faint trace of a limp Simon swung one hand forward and, with a silently assisting gust of wind, tossed the body of his own attacker between Isabel and her ‘rescuer’.

“So little confidence in me Isabel? You wound me.” The half smirk which accompanied his words faded and was replaced by a frown as he got closer and had a clear look at the brunettes bloodied face. Given her normal defenses, seeing her so visibly hurt was jarring to say the least- were her eyes drifting?

“Are you feeling alright Isabel?” Wait, why was he asking? She wouldn’t admit if she had a broken leg much less taken one too many blows to the head. Easier to just assume she had concussion and be pleasantly surprised if he was wrong.

“Here take this.” He withdrew a handkerchief and placed it in her unresisting hand. “Try to clean yourself up a little and keep an eye out for anyone else.” Keeping her occupied was the key, if she could stay awake and coherent for at least a few minutes that would be a good start but given how she was starting to sway…

Well, it wasn’t as if he had any better ideas at the moment

Turning back to their still unnamed comrade? Accomplice? Simon and drew himself up while staying in arms reach of Isabel. “Apologies” He began with a false smile, “as you can see we’ve had a touch of bad luck and I can’t help but feel that more is on the way. Would I be right in assuming that you have somewhere we could stay until it blows over?”

Arguing with Isabel, because almost every conversation with her became an argument, was much like trying to deal with a certain farm yard animal. No matter how you bribed, goaded or threatened, at the end of the day you were both filthy and even if you got your way you weren’t happy about it.

That didn’t mean he hadn’t learned anything however, what was the axiom?, ‘Wisdom stems from experience while experience comes from a lack of wisdom.’

When it came to Isabel, he had a great deal of experience.

Thus when his recalcitrant partner started her responses with a sterling round of the blame game accompanied by dodge the question Simon merely sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as the brunette squirmed to face him. “I could have” he agreed wearily, “between the two of us we could pull it off,” he spread his arms and shrugged, “but then what?”

“You’re a known quantity Isabel, it doesn’t matter how well you know the backstreets if the NYPD know where you’re going.” He told her simply without any sort of admonishment as he crossed his legs atop the branch, balance and physics were really more of an afterthought when you could fly. “There’s been an uneasy truce between groups like Sanctuary and the NYPD ever since the Metas became commonplace. Public massacres, or at least undisguised public massacres have stopped, and in exchange the Metas haven’t swarmed known mutant refuges like starving locusts. I’d prefer to keep things that way, especially when we have other options.”

In reality it was unlikely the Metas would ever recieve such an order, officially at least. Even after all these years memories of the Registration Act and the Camps were still too fresh in the minds of the public and any politician who tried something similar would be signing the death warrant for their career.But sending a raid after a single individual? One who’d been caught on camera killing police and civilians alike? Whose love for wanton violence was only slightly less famous than her posters? That, that was possible and it would set a dangerous precedent that the hessian would rather avoid for as long as possible.

Explaining all of that would take more time than Isabel likely had patience for and so he focused on what he knew would grab her attention, a threat to her home. It was admittedly somewhat underhanded given the girls emotional state but it didn’t make his words any less true or effective. Indeed as he spoke and demonstrated his ‘other method’ he saw the soubrette mood shift as her shoulders hunched and her lips pouted.

Then she admitted she hadn’t thought of anything else and tried to blame him for failing to read her mind.

Simon very carefully did no sigh, he did however raise his gaze skywards in a silent question before briefly rapping his knuckles against the girl's forehead and nodded to himself at the decidedly solid thunk that accompanied it.

“Oh good there is still something in there, I was worried you were just a pretty face for a moment.” He explained, no small amount of teasing in his tone even as he drew his hand back before she could slap it away.

“Think carefully for a moment Isabel, you’ve thought of loopholes often enough so I know you can. Do you really want to make that argument? That you have no control over your actions and are just following your nature?” He leaned in and the playful tone fell from his voice. “That’s what an animal does Isabel, should I treat you like one? Is that what you want when you say ‘I should know better’? Do you want to be k-”

Cutting himself off Simon glanced down with a silent curse as his spatial sense flickered and then died like an aged light bulb, leaving the night far darker in his mind than it had been before but still providing enough contrast for him to make out a solitary figure standing just below them with one arm raised-

Pfft

In the corner of his vision Isabel jumped as though stung and Simons head whipped up watch her and catch her if need be, but other than a curse and a betrayed look in his direction she didn’t say anything. She hadn’t realized; which meant she hadn’t been hit with an actual bullet, meaning they were wanted alive…. Hopefully, and there were precious few ways to bring a violent mutant in alive even with an adapted.

Odds were good she’d just been hit with a tranquilizer, meaning they were on borrowed time.

“Zeph, I can't-, my bones, I can't-... My mutation's not working, Zeph." Her words were laboured as she struggled to breathe past her quickly returning panic, colour draining from her face

Even as she spoke though Simons eyes were back on the figure below, tracking the raised arm as it moved ever so slightly towards his own position while one own hand darted into his jacket and the other braced against the tree branch.

One of the few benefits of being a foreigner, and a mutant come to that, was that Americans never expected you to own a gun, despite how easy it was to get one. It was a folly he rarely bothered correcting just because of how useful it was; case in point-

CLACK

-it was always remarkably satisfying watching an attacker run for cover when they realized you were armed. Annoyingly though, on this occasion he hadn’t missed on purpose, still he bought a few moments and he used them to again rap his knuckles against Isabel head to distract her from her panic to quickly outline the situation.

“Adapted right below us, might have friends but definitely armed. Split up and take him out when we get out range.” So saying Simon quickly shifted his grip on the branch and let himself tumble off the branch to swing to the ground below.

Mutation or no mutation, when you had the ability to fly you learned how to fall. He just hoped he wasn’t too out of practice.