Birds In The Bush


f_april_icon.gif darla_icon.gif felix_icon.gif minea_icon.gif raquelle_icon.gif samantha_icon.gif

and NPCs

Scene Title Birds in the Bush
Synopsis One bird, two birds… three? A Homeland Security raid goes south. All available hands have to be called in — including one from the FBI — bystanders get involved, an agent is downed, and one of the suspects gets away. Or… well, somebody does. Several people are left a lot more confused than they were before all this happened.
Date April 24, 2009

The Intersection of Union and 6th Streets, Brooklyn

Friday evening in Brooklyn. It was a beautiful, sunny day; it still is, the sun perhaps an hour yet from setting. There are a scattering of cars on the street, and more people on the sidewalks; the residents of this neighborhood out for their evening walks, taking advantage of the balmy spring weather. Two teenage girls here, chatting animatedly; a jogger and his dog, single-mindedly focused on the end of the sidewalk; a family group; and more besides. The trees which line the street, most of them fairly old by their size, are just beginning to unfurl their leaves. The sun's still high enough to lance through the green crowns in some places, casting dappled shadows on the faces of three-story-tall brownstones.

April is one of those out for a walk, although she doesn't live in this neighborhood. The last few days have yielded a great many things for the time-traveler to think about, and she prefers not to do her thinking in the middle of their 'headquarters'. With her hands shoved absently in the pockets of 'her' denim jacket, face hidden behind mirrored sunglasses and a veil of dark hair that's fallen forward to either side, she's just another pedestrian focused on her own narrow world — such as might be found on any city street.

There's a small Asian restaurant on the block, the sidewalk before it festooned with hanging and potted plants, a red canopy providing unnecessary shelter from the elements for those who choose to sit outside and eat. Given that there are only two outdoors tables, it might be presumed that most people prefer to eat inside. One of the tables is occupied by a black woman — and Darla isn't paying much attention to her half-eaten food. She doesn't do a very good job of hiding the fact that she's waiting for something (someone?), looking over to the intersection of Union and 6th rather frequently.

If anyone on the block notices, they likely assume she's been stood up, or something of the sort. But then, they don't know what happened just five blocks away and ten minutes ago. Nor do they have access to the HomeSec frequencies, by which to hear the calls for all agents near 6th St. in Brooklyn to come assist with capturing wanted fugitives.

Those actually at the corner of Union and 6th might notice two people running pell-mell down the street, with no regard for anyone else on the sidewalk, and a couple of others behind them. If they look closer, the ones behind might even have an official air about them. But that doesn't get any of the others on the sidewalk to do more than curiously observe.

When you get the call, and you're already in the neighbourhood, you show up. The miracle of modern day radios, and having been in Brooklyn to help try and find those marked people who had suddenly showed up on the radar, Minea's got her Company issue gun, the one loaded with those nice tranq shots instead of the regular bullets, out and safety off. Woe be to those who get in the way, you're getting some sleepy time. 6th she'd heard, and 6th is where the Company agent/Homeland agent for those not in the know is rounding, attention paid for those who are running and those who might be in pursuit. Hoping she's coming out ahead instead of behind the chase.

Fel has a full head of steam on, partially courtesy of the news that one Gabriel Gray is likely walking around a free man. There will be Words for any HomeSec he encounters, when all this is done. He, on the other hand, has a real live pistol under his suitjacket, and he's coming at a fast jog, but not his true blinding speed.

Shopping, Private Appointment, There are so many reasons for Raquelle to be in Brooklyn and so he is, wearing a pair of black jeans, black docs, fitted random band t-shirt and leather jacket, messenger bag resting against his hip and knitted type of newsboy styled hat, dark shades over his eyes and he walks along quickly, idly texting his mother about how he still has enough curry for the month. He may have been in the area also trying to find a new home as well, it is hard to tell, but his fingers fly over his keys and he doesn't have on as much make-up, his freckles are showing. He has to look up though cuz people are running past him and he gahs and twirls one way and then the other as people are passing by, leaving him to spin around to stare after running people. "…what the hell…" BUHlink.

Sam has kept a low profile during her current assignment. She knows she's going to have to play this one very safe as high profile as the subject is, one false move with bring down a hell of a lot of law enforcement on her head. That being said, it doesn't mean she's been idle in the least. She has certainly kept her eyes open for other Evolved that might need to be eliminated, though so far since the last time she killed, there hasn't been anyone she's seen that she felt was dangerous enough to be taken out. Nor has anyone contacted her to steer her off her current assigned case. Soon, that case will be dealt with along with the target. She walks down the street, not seemingly paying attention to anyone but herself, though she actually takes in each and every person she walks by.

Those who are running for their lives always move faster than the people who try to catch them. It's axiomatic. When the fugitives reach the intersection, they have a bit of lead time. Enough to take in the people who are staring in bewildered noncomprehension — and the two who are running for them. The woman, her coloring plain and brown, swivels suddenly in a maneuver that likely leaves rubber on the sidewalk and bolts down Union. Her companion, a man, has a couple of inches on her but nonetheless manages to be two steps behind.

He also manages to run headlong into Darla while she's in the process of getting up from her seat, sending both of them into a heap on the concrete. The brown-haired woman stops, backpedals, attempts to haul them both up. Hissed whispers are evident but not interpretable. They also waste the precious seconds the pair have.

Across the street, April stops short, reflexively pulling her sunglasses down to get a better look at what's going on. She blinks at the knot of people across the street, turns to look at the intersection. Stares at the one pursuer she can see clearly — Minea. Belatedly shoves her sunglasses into place and wracks her memory. Brooklyn, April, 2009… nothing comes to mind. What's going on?

Meanwhile, on 6th street, Raquelle has the dubious pleasure of finding himself in the way of two more running people. Men, both of them, dressed in official-looking suits. "Get out of the way!" Only one of them has enough breath with which to call out a warning. "Homeland Security!"

There, right there. Minea spots them, not slowing her movements in the least as she raises her weapon and pulls the trigger once she's sighted on the woman and sure that she'll have a fair shot on the darker skinned woman. Any bead on her body big enough and the Brunette is firing. Screw a warning. It's not a true bullet and they don't have time to screw around and dilly dally. Not when the real HomeSec agents are busy screaming and advertising who they are. April for the most part right now is ignored.

Fel doesn't have his badge out. But suddenly he's no longer just some guy in a hurry, but an almost literal blur, darting among the pedestrians like they were statuary in a garden, heading for that fleeing pair.

The shock and surprise gets the hairdresser to raise his arms defensively almost dropping his cellphone/black berry like device, but it is slipping in an inner pocket as he spins around the other way to avoid. "What the HELL?!" Raquelle has to repeat again, eyes widening. "Oh, yes, good way to-" He's almost knocked over by one of the agents as he flinches reflexively. "I thought the government was supposed to be SECRETIVE about shi-wagh! SLOW down…"

…Raquelle doesn't expect things like this.

Well, well, this is certainly an interesting twist. Those look like official types, probably HomeSec. Sam sees them coming her way and ducks into an alleyway, just to stay out of the line of sight of the great American race that's going on — and waits to see where exactly this is heading. She could run, but that would only draw attention to herself, so she tucks herself further under her hoodie.

As the three get back to their feet, there's the vague impression of a blurred focus resolving itself into clarity — but most of the bystanders have since tucked themselves away in protected nooks and on doorsteps, if they haven't left outright. It's a very ephemeral effect, regardless.

The tranq dart strikes the dark-skinned woman, who slaps at the sting on her neck and throws herself through the restaurant's open door. Commotion ensues inside. The two fugitives face their pursuers, apparently intending to make a stand of it; the man lifts a hand, and Felix and Minea suddenly find themselves hit with some kind of invisible hammer. By the way it tears leaves off the trees and throws the flimsy patio furniture the restaurant uses around, the hammer is apparently a great deal of wind.

The two HomeSec agents who were held up by the inadvertant obstacle of Raquelle proceed to trip over one another at the corner and stare at the fugitives. "The… ffth… I thought he…" Surprised stuttering makes the vocal one a target for the female fugitive; a bolt of amber electricity sends him to the ground. The other one quickly ducks back around the corner.

When the wind tears past her, its fringe wreaking havoc with her hair and causing April to stagger back half a step, the woman automatically raises a thin silver bubble about herself, in protective reflex. From behind it, she stares at the two fugitives in profile, hazel eyes flicking between them and the various agents. Her hesitation and indecision certainly makes April unlike any of the other bystanders on the street — most of them are taking the prudent course and getting out of the way now that Evolved abilities have appeared on-stage…

Fuuuuck. One will be down soon enough, unless she's the kind that needs two darts. Minea's breath is caught as the wind rises up and has it's fun with her, the company brunette does a half spin and is knocked onto her side. Her hand still firmly gripping the the gun, she doens't waste a moment when down since it seems they're going to be taking a stand on the street and the smart people have taken cover. Finger depressed, aiming for the one who threw the wind, another tranq is fired off, aiming for a thigh or even just an abdomen before scrambling for cover. "Ivanov! Evolveds!" She recognizes the man who she babysat.

Yeah, well. Ow. In fact, ow. Fel's summarily tipped right off his feet, and that leaves him pedalling them for the barest instant uselessly, like a tipped-over turtle. And then he leaps up, and brandishes his badge, finally. "Freeze!" he orders, tone a harsh bark.

Raquelle flails a bit as he eyes the HomeSec peoples and he actually moves to help the person up and then there is freakin' electricity and he SWEARS in Spanish before ducking, falling to the ground before quickly getting back to his feet and looking around. "Oh GOD, if fucking Batman shows up he better have the rubber nipples or I'm going to be pissed the hell off!" He isn't stupid though, ducking behind the same corner as the agent. They probably have a gun, he doesn't. "You people are fucking fucked…" He has to point out, quickly slipping out his cellphone and texting something quickly. His babysitter might have to sit…longer.

Sam is watching the scene unfold underneath her hoodie and she is now interested. A couple of rather dangerous Evolved fleeing some scene. She stays inside the alleyway to avoid any sort of repercussions from the powers being utilized here, then decides to duck off, moving further into the alley to the next parallel street and runs down to see exactly where these two are heading. She has her pistol, the one purchased at Tuck's Pawn Shop, hidden on the inside of her jacket, though she isn't sure if she's intending to use it just yet. She doesn't want to get caught on a spur of the moment killing, but.. so tempted.

Minea's second dart misses. Such happens when one is aiming under high stress — and this is definitely high stress. Felix's mandate earns the speedster a bolt of electricity all his own, with a second cast in Minea's direction. Meanwhile, the two fugitives begin to retreat; the aerokinetic looks up towards the apartment building nearest the intersection. A series of sounds like miniature thunderclaps just barely precede the not-quite-musical chink of broken and falling glass, shards from the windows cast out to litter the sidewalk before them. Some are small, but many of them are large and might even be dangerous.

A second bolt of energy is cast Minea's way, the better to keep her under cover.

Across the street, April watches, the impulses tugging her in opposite directions hidden by the translucent veil of force surrounding her. …And then she dissolves it. An outheld fist forms a bubble of energy in the street; she casts her fingers out, and the sphere expands rapidly, throwing the two fugitives sideways into a blue-painted structure just beside the restaurant. It also does a fair amount of collateral damage to the decorations outside the restaurant.

For a moment, the enlarged sphere obscures all further view; and then it is dispelled, leaving a jumbled heap of chairs, collapsed awning, potted plants, and at least one person under all that mess in the threshold of a gate knocked open. On the far side of the street, a woman with dark hair and hidden face looks for three seconds at the aftermath of her action — and then she turns around, walks away, in the direction opposite the various agents.

Raquelle's so-helpful remarks earn him a cold glare from the agent who has the dubious honor of sharing his cover. Dubious in that the agent would much rather not have a civilian breathing down his neck. "And why are you still here?" he asks pointedly, before peering around the corner. Oh, wait. More electricity. The agent quickly ducks back, a turtle… safe?… in his shell. He looks again, gun at the ready and… where did they go? Steps out around the corner now, the better to gauge the scene.

Christ, stick her finger in an outlet. Her shoulder gets hit by the bolt as she peeks out beyond the corner with her arm and then pulls back at the visual. Not fast enough and the Company agent bites her tongue enough to draw blood. It's enough to piss her off as well, enough so that Minea scuttles out of her corner just as the second bolt is coming. Well isn't this just perfect— but it fizzles out before reaching her. Brows raise as the silver forcefield knocks them over. A glance to the side reveals… Agent Bradley? But let's not look a gift horse in the mouth, please. Take them while they're down. Take a second to sight in on the aerokinetic and where he landed and fire a shot.

And that's enough to rattle Felix's teeth. Literally — the stimulus is enough to have him freezing in place for a moment. He manages to dive to the ground enough not to get shredded by the shrapnel of the window. And then the two they ere after are subdued. That's helpful. Fel rises up, and heads for the downed fugitives. That April might not be one of their own hasn't yet occurred to him, since he knows HomeSec has been dispatched.

Raquelle has no idea what in the hell is going on, really as he frowns and takes a deep breath and then… another, ducking his head again and shivering before looking to the HomeSec people/person he's trying to hide with. "Why am I still…because the fucking X-Men are out there, Agent…" And then there are things breaking and electricity and just so much going on at once he has to quickly send another text message via his phone before peeeeeking around that corner warily, after the agent is going back out there, and he sighs softly to himself.

She saw the Evolved running into the restaurant; best tactics insist they are going all the way through and out the back door, so Samantha sprints on running shoes in that direction while the others are still scattered about on the street. She jumps over a few obstacles, as obviously these alleys are not used to drive down any longer. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a pair of leather gloves and slips them over her hands as she reaches the next street. There is a dumpster there and she pushes it out of her way and presses her body against the corner and peers down the street as she reaches inside and pulls out her pistol. And she waits.

A pile of debris isn't really the best target, especially when the majority of its constitutents are nonliving. Or at least non-animal. Minea's dart thunks home in the side of a plastic pot. The pile of debris stirs a little, but whomever is at the bottom is either too dazed or simply too buried to dig themselves out. Most likely the former.

April ducks down an alleyway on the far side of the street and disappears from sight.

No one comes out the back of the restaurant. However, the alley beside the restaurant — the one by which there was a great noisy crash just seconds prior — spills forth a dark-skinned woman, her jogging stride a little unsteady but her steps determined. One hand is pressed against her temple. "Lost one," Darla states, as she beats a hasty retreat from the chaos on Union Street. "Did you — good."

She doesn't know she's being watched.

Up goes Minea, scurrying across the street at the missing of the dart. 3 down, 2 left. Always know how much is left in your gun. She needs to get close enough to get a good shot but at the same time, not get nailed by the guy should he be playing possum. She wouldn't put it past him to play possum so she's trying to be quiet as possible, come up from the side and wait for a good opportunity to use her fourth shot on the guy left in the debris. Where's the other god damned agents. All hiding likely, and Agent Bradley seems to have up and disappeared. What the fuck.

Well, this agent, having determined to his satisfaction that the guy under the rubble is subdued for the moment, is coming right up behind Minea. "I only tag one under all the wreckage," he says, as he nears her, quietly. "Where's the second?" Fel, always helpful.

The stray HomeSec agent, having decided Union Street is no longer a war zone, kneels beside his downed partner to check for a pulse. "Aren't you a lucky SOB?" he mutters — said partner being still alive. He looks down the street at Minea and Felix, and proceeds to get on the radio to make a report. While he speaks, the agent turns around to look up and down 6th Street — and scowls at Raquelle. You haven't rabbited yet? Pauses in his report. "Hey! You go that way— " Accompanied by helpful gesturing down 6th Street in the way they all came from back when. " —and it's clear. Get out of my hair, a'right?" Stupid civilian.

Raquelle eyes the agent who is down with some concern and then back to the HomeSec dude and then back to the agent that is down and he really can't help it…which is why he starts to get up and backpedal when his natural gift starts coloring his words, nice and neutral… light and reassuring, calming even. "And you have hair that really needs a touch up but you're still beautiful honey bun, is your friend going to be okay? I'm sure he will, you all are all governmental and probably hopped up on legal stuff that makes you really uh…you know what, stay sweet, stay away from people that can shock you in ways that are so not nice and I'll just…" He turns on his heel to continue going the way he way, frowning. What. The. Fuck?!

Unexpected. Yes, it isn't too often that something unexpected happens to Sam. But when Darla bursts out into the alley, Sam is quick to duck even further against that wall and the dumpster shields her from being seen. All signs point to Darla possibly being some sort of law enforcement type, but Sam can't be completely sure. She tucks her pistol away and just curls up, eyes peer out from underneath her hood. What happened to the freaks? she wonders to herself, as she waits for the way to be clear again before she even attempts to move from her spot.

Behind the pile of debris is a gate opened by the force of April's prior exertion. Some things — splintered wood, scraps of cloth — lie scattered down the alleyway into which the gatehouse leads, as though they were pushed through it. Upon further study, there is some indication that some might have been cast to their places by someone — a trail of sorts leading away from the scene.

There is indeed only one person remaining beneath the debris. Only a little effort would be needed to determine it's the woman, the electrokinetic — and the injury to her head suggests she won't be coherent enough to use any more power for some time.

Observed, but not interfered with, Darla meanwhile continues on her way, ducking into another alley and cutting across to another street. The sooner she's well away from here, the better.

Raquelle having moved on himself, the standing HomeSec agent resumes his report. If someone did get away down the alley, he's quite sure he won't be able to catch them.

Minea kicks away some debris and close enough, pulls the trigger to let a dark hit thigh. Not taking chances even with a headwound. "Kitty, through there, get him. Male, wind, or electro, one of the two" because she knows about his speed. If anyone can catch up, he can. "Take out his knees. Non lethal. I'll be right behind you."

Fel just got ordered to kneecap someone. And off he goes, with apparent enthusiasm. He heads down the alley at a reasonable speed.

Raquelle is walking along now, slowly and carefully, but he does pull out his compact, pulling it out and checking his eyeliner as he edges along carefully. People are freaky.

After Darla jets out of the alley, Samantha rises to her feet and utters a curse. No fun for her tonight. She has no clue now where the two evolved are. She pulls off her gloves and lowers her hood, shaking her golden locks down around her shoulders. Pity. Her trigger finger was certainly itchy tonight. Then turns and walks away from the scene, disappearing from anyone's view.

The street Felix emerges onto is an empty one. There are no people. There are no moving cars. Pick a direction, pick an alley, and possibly get lucky in picking up a trail; or go back to the bird in-hand.

His eyeliner is okay, so the world will be okay.. Raquelle snaps his compact shut and rubs his forehead. Mentally la;krjh;lkarhjaing right now. He doesn't even want to know. Was the government chasing… people the… what the… he does occasionally plaster himself against a wall in a flashback sorta PTSD reaction but he's walking.

Minea's securing the sedated perp, handcuffs around her wrsits behind her, and confident that she's not going anywhere, Minea's falling in behind Felix, looking around. "Where'd he go?" Taking a glimpse around herself to get a bearing maybe on where the second perp might have went.

"No damn idea," says Fel, bittterly. But he persists, and abruptly breaks to the left, like a hound trying to pick up the scent.

Felix is off, and Minea just watches him before she stomps back in through the gate and to the downed "bird" in hand. Her blackberry brought out, speed dial pushed and soon enough, she's looking around the streets and for the two other normal Homeland agents. "Agent Dahl. One secured, FBI agent after the other hopefully. Control of wind or electricity. Don't know if it's one of the aberrations." She's called into her place of employment. There's a glare sent to the Homeland agents as she rattles off her address to pick up.

Yes, there was sleight of hand involved in this scene. Here's the story behind what happened:

Previously in this storyline…
That's the Way to Do It

Next in this storyline…

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License