Participants:
| Scene Title | The Abyss Stares Back |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Samantha gets outed. In more ways than one. Sorry, Spanky. |
| Date | June 18, 2009 |
Military and government career down the pipes, Danko's never really been able to shake the early riser thing. It's in his blood and in his bones. Up before the sun, comfortably operable on just a few hours of sleep.
The same is not necessarily true for Mr. B. The sun is just beginning to strike around the edges of shambled buildings and cracked streets when he scuffs to a halt out in the middle of the agreed upon intersection, one thumb hooked onto the belt of his black fatigues, the other up at his mouth to smother the start of a bleary yawn. There's a gun at his side; another strapped casually to the side of his leg, both within easy reach while he scuffs his boots and rolls his shoulders and generally, restlessly attempts to look presentable. On Aude's opposite side, the cinderblock-shouldered, squinty-eyed shape of a larger and more thickly muscled rhinocerous of a man is smoking under the wide buzz of a dirty-blonde mohawk. If he is not a morning person, he gives no indication, rather as rocks fail to look very different from their normal selves when they are wet or in the process of rolling down a hill. Neither man is all that talkative, though Mr. B looks like he wants to be, what with furtive glances cast over at Aude's posterior every other rearrangement of his weight or so.
The streets around are barren grey and brown, stoplights swinging dead from their posts. Close enough to Midtown that even the most desperate of the displaced are reluctant to stay here. Abandoned cars line either side of the street, left to rot in front of parking meters long since expired. Apartment buildings and offices cast long shadows, but the intersection is bright — maybe the only one for a few blocks that's actually in direct sunlight.
The reason for this is fairly straightforward. One of the rooftops is occupied by more than pigeons. Danko is just now in the process of putting a last second tweak on the incline of a long black sniper rifle posted up at the roof's raised corner, cold shadow blocked thick over the fuzzy white of his head and the black of his leather jacket. "See anything yet?" asked of yet another guy in fatigues somewhere to his rear, he gets a quiet, "negative," in return and straightens patiently away from the stock to raise his radio. It's black. Who would have guessed! "Nothing yet."
Mr. B scratches vague acknowledgement at his ear, chin dipped down to his chest while he surveys the goods yet again. Fine by him.
"When was she supposed to come?" Grumbles Aude. The message had come, an animal named, and proof that it was Danko et al. Only there's no Danko in sight. That's fine. She's off shift, barely. Gone is her uniform and she in khaki's, fisherman's sweater, dockers and her own backpack. SHe's not missed Mr. B's looks to her ass. She's done some looking of her own. What can she say, he's GQ quality. She'd have to be dead to not appreciate. Or Gay. you never know.
It's been a several days since she was abducted. She is pissed. She has spent the last 10 days being pissed. How someone could have let someone slip through and put her at risk.. she's going to have someone ass for this. She's tucked as deep inside her hoodie as possible as she walks towards the meeting spot. She wants to know what they're going to do about this shit and she's no longer going to be working in any teams. It's what she said from the start. Solo work only. And she wants to know who that son of a bitch was. She rubs at her neck, recalling the soreness of being injected. That pain has left, but the mental image of it remains.
She pushes her sneakers along the ground as she gets to the corner and looks from one side to the other and leans against the wall. She's not out in the open. She's not stupid. The alley provides decent cover, but she knows that anyone could see her from the rooftops. Samantha looks, sees nothing, and waits.
"Gum?" It's the first thing Mr. B has said since they got out here, brows canted and teeth tiled white into a smile when he realizes Aude is reciprocating in the department of junk and trunks. He's already reaching for one of his numerous pockets, thumb fumbling at the flap.
"No gum," Danko's voice crackles harsh into the wire curled at his ear.
Mr. B's face falls.
It's mainly by chance that his hulking teammate is looking down his nose at Butch past the folded slabs of his arms and happens to catch a flicker of movement at the same time Danko's current number two passes over a pair of binoculars and vague coordinates. 'Over there, down and to the right, between the dead cat and the station wagon.'
"She's here." The rhinocerous man's voice overlaps Danko's, pitched low for Aude's ears, where Emile's observation fails to reach. "You know what to do," the older man's voice peels away from the thug's, independent in the men's ears again in its rehash of well-established orders. "Non-lethal only if she decides she doesn't want to cooperate. Worst comes to worst, I'll wanna talk to her myself."
"Aaall right," that's B again, gloved hands clapped once in let's-get-moving anticipation. "You know what to do, Sugarcakes. We got your back if she cops an attitude."
Oh right. She was here to be the approach. Some lousy reasoning about, female member would be better with being talked to by another female memeber. She wanted gum though Damnit. Aude kicks at the hulky brute's ankle and looks around. She's got no radio. She can't hear where "Cinderella?" is. "Point her out, or i'm gonna stand here looking like some black skinned gorpher sticking it's head outta the fucking hole"
The heavy grunts against the kick, cigarette fished out of his mouth and flicked carelessly away from the block of his head before he stirs into a walk, pulling up at the start of a sink at his pants as he goes. Too big. Or not enough belt, maybe. "Awww, c'mon now! You didn't think we were gonna make you go over there all by your lonesome, didja? Rrright this way." Left hand lifted in vague guidance, he sets off as well half a step behind, apparently expecting that she'll follow. "Probably best to say please and thank you with this one, by the way. Just as a heads up."
"Oh, she's that pleasant? I thought we all ran around passing out daisy's and kissing everyone's cheeks" It's a smarmy reply but she sets off with them, in the direction that was vaugly waved at until Samantha finally comes into view. That's when Aude's demeanor changes. Not so carefree, no looking at Mr. B's ass. It's business, copface is on. "Cinderella?"
She doesn't expose her face just yet. She heard them approaching and "Cinderella" doesn't have the inclination to move just yet from her leaning position against the brick layered wall. "Cinderella" was the name given to her when she was at Fort Drum, deployed to Afghanistan. She was the lone female in her unit, so as a joke she was given the name "Cinderella 33". She /could/ have complained, but it would only prove the point they were trying to make, so she adapted the nickname and made it hers. Far from the princess they teased her of being, Samantha keeps her head tucked down and under the hood. "Depends on who wants to know."
"The Hunter, actually. We're associates of his — close friends, if you will. Hi! I'm Mr. B. This is Spanky." Spank the Tank lifts a broad hand in vague greeting on Aude's opposite side while Butch offers a hand out for a shake despite the fact that Samantha looks wholly uninterested in participating in social platitudes.
Somewhere far above, Danko is rolling his eyes. "She," 'she' being Aude, according to a tip of B's head, "doesn't have a name. What we do have are some questions and concerns. Given your record, we figured we should bring 'em to you direct. Get everything cleared up in person to avoid any misunderstandings, if you know what I mean."
"Call me Tink" Hey, she's tiny, what can she say. Aude tips her head to the other woman, hands not in the pockets of her jeans. She's here for a purpose, well a couple, but the one that she knows is that she's there to perform the evo test. The riot curled woman stands beside the other two, watching Samantha carefully, cop sense on full. She's not intimidating, not yet.
"Cinderella" is quite relaxed for someone who's been outed in the last two weeks. "Someone screwed up on the inside and put me at risk." She says bluntly. She's not one for stretching out problems. Though her tone suggests that she wanted to add, 'and if you let me know who it is, I'll take care of the problem.' And she probably would. "I told you all from the beginning I don't like doing teams. I prefer solo, so the one time I go in with someone you want me to, I get fucked. What the hell is going on?"
"See…" trails off Mr. B, teeth grit into an exaggerated wince when he retracts his hand and glances sideways at 'Tink,' "not being a fan of team spirit is one thing, and I completely respect the Batman-type loner thing you have going for yourself — don't get me wrong — but it's come to our attention that the last couple've guys who went out with turned up…kind of dead. Kind of really, really dead. So."
Spanky lifts a brow, heavy jaw slugged over into a harder set when he gives B a sideways look over the top of Aude's head.
"Very tactful," says Danko's voice into both of their ears. Somehow neither the distance or the static shimmying hoarse between here and there is enough to shake the sarcasm out of his tone. Mr. B smiles anyway!
"Taking a few other factors into account we'd like to give you a quick Evo test. Mostly to make sure you haven't been killed and replaced by a metamorph. If everything works out, we'll be out've your hair and you won't have to worry about us bothering you again. Nice hoodie, by the way. I used to have one kind of like that. Kind've got a ganster thing going, there."
Cue… Aude. She didn't bring one from her own stockpile, but rather one of the ones that she passed off to Danko and his little cell. One that was then given back to her since she's the one who actually has had training in how to perform the evo test. It's really not that hard, but.. well, protocols. So out of her pocket comes the the test itself, waggling it where Samantha can see. "Just a drop is all we need Cinderella. Think you can manage that?" She'd been tested herself, seeing as she's law enforcement. Negative for the evolved gene. "Just like testing blood sugar"
Reaching for her hoodie, she pulls it back exposing her face now as her golden blond locks fall down around her shoulders. She eyes each of them with her cold blue eyes that also seem to have a touch of 'yeah, I might be a little crazy too' to them. "You want to do what?" She isn't afraid of anything except for their intent. She's tested negative before, so no reason to think she won't now. She steps forward and pulls up the sleeve of her sweatshirt, exposing her wrist. "Cinderella" is ready, it seems to be poked, though her stare at those present seems she's not all that happy about having to do so.
The body is willing, spirit reluctant. The tests are easy. one part jabs, you dab the blood with another part. Blue or red. One pill makes you bigger, the other one makes you smaller. Or in this case, one makes you a friend, the other… well, woe be to you if it turns red. Aude's hustling, little square pad of rubbing alcohol torn open between her teeth so that she can rub where the jab will be. Protocols.
"Give it a second" Going through the motions, working it till there's a quick little jab, a welling up of blood. The little strip is pressed to the small wound to gather the necessary haemoglobin. Aude steps back when she's done, the test coming with her and held up for the others to see, to await the result. Which really isn't that long.
The indicator turns red.
Aude looks to Mr. B and the hulk expectantly.
"The fuck.." There's a sudden urge in Samantha to run like hell. "What the hell are you doing? You are not setting me up with a bogus test." There's a slight glowing in her eyes as she speaks, obviously getting angry. "I am not one of THEM!" Her finger shoots out to motion to the 'rest of the world' for whom she has sworn to deliver from the clutches of the evolved. "I help them." Seems the more heated she gets, the brighter the glow comes from her eyes. "Get me another test. Get me one that works!" She completely believes that she's being set up here.
Cue the elevator music while they wait. Mr. B rocks back on his heels. Spanky scratches at his neck. A scrawny-looking pigeon hopskips after a bit of McDonalds trash blowing past through the street behind them.
"Christ, that guy fidgits a lot," muttered mainly to himself, Danko hooks the radio into his pocket so that he can re-steady the rifle scope stretched out ahead of him. It's impossible to see the color of the test itself through spotless lens, but the backs of his three agents are plenty visible, with Samantha just beyond them. Focus adjusted for the glare of reflection off a billboard posted on an adjacent roof, he zeroes back in just in the nick of time to see B and S exchanging wary looks above the sudden seize of tension at both of their spines. "It's positive." His left hand goes to hit the radio again, but Spanky's already reaching for the gun at his side by the time, "Take her down!" roughs harsh across the channel. Click. The safety turns neatly over.
Closer up, Mr. B is watching the light in Samantha's eyes with a reservation that doesn't become him. "Hold please," is all he has time to get out before everything is moving in adrenaline-fueled slow motion. He's snapping the modified gun at his side up — Spanky is already most of the way drawn, jaw slung open in the midst of an order to STAND DOWN or FREEZE or something else that everybody is too busy reacting to process.
Aude's got no gun. Well, she does but it's her service revolver. She's also holding into the evo test when Samantha starts denying she's evo. Her own hand is strayed to her weapon and drawing. The woman's killed how many of the people? But the others are beating her to it, and those eyes of Sam's are glowing SO she dives, to the side, to behind a car, getting her weapon on, evo test clattering ot the ground
Samantha looks at Spanky who seems to be the most threat to her at the moment. Spanky, Spanky. We hardly knew ya. It must be nearing midnight as the princess in question is about to turn into something far from a princess. Samantha's eyes glow brightly as she turns them on Spanky who seems to sizzle from the inside out. He's already dead by the time his blood boils, then spills out as his flesh begins to melt away. Soon, he's nothing but a puddle on the ground. His metal weapon sparks at first, then catches fire as it gives off a small series of explosions as the rounds inside the magazine begins to explode as Sam finally staggers back around the corner. While this all sounds very cool/gross to look at, it really only takes a second or two to occur from solid human Spanky to molten, burning Spanky-puddle on the ground.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGglhggghh," is kind of the noise Spanky makes while his innards bubble and gurgle up out of his throat in an uneven pulse of unidentifiable bloodflecked viscera like an overcooked hotdog. He stays on his feet for what seems like a remarkable amount of time, even once the involuntary screaming has stopped on account of the fact that he's sloughing into a greasy puddle of fleshy slag in the canvasy black of his fatigues. "Jesus — Butch, get out've the way." His own firearm dropped in a violent splash of sparks, Mr. B is more than happy to comply, and the red dot drilling into his shoulder skips over onto Samantha's hoodie, but she's moving and there is the crack and hollow ache of the ammunition in Spanky's sidearm discharging at random amidst an electric spray of white sparks and black, black smoke.
The hiss of a more innocious round zipping through the smoke is almost easy to miss in the chaos. It ticks off the wall just behind Samantha as she flees around the corner and Mr. B hustles off to duck behind the same car Aude's using for cover patting and clapping at a lick of flame stirring up the side of his leg in the region of his sidearm. "Want me to go after her?"
Aude will help with that. THe flames that it. Using the arm of her sweater, helping to extinguish flames. "What the fuck B. What the fuck was that? Go after her?" She can't hear Danko, so with a roll of her eyes, the petite womans up, gun out, and heading off to around the corner and after Samatha, putting on her cop speed. Head down, arms pumping, gun in hand. All 5'4 of her. "Fucking Evo bitch"
The voices can be heard as she crawls away. She's not an evo. She's /not/ an evo. What the fuck was that? She doesn't even know. That guy melted back there. But she has bigger problems right now. She can't see a goddamn thing. On her hands and knees she crawls down towards the street. Samantha hears traffic and moves in that direction. She is crawling as fast as she can with blindness as she has no idea if anyone is coming after her or what. She feels along the side of a dumpster and crawls up beside it and curls up, reaching behind her to pull out her pistol. She can't see, but she's going to shoot anything she hears at this point. Though, she also is struggling just to stay conscious.
"No. Stay where you are. We don't have anything to take her out with. Just — " Danko stops short, shoulders and neck stiffened at the blur of movement across his scope that is Aude suddenly bolting off for the corner Samantha just managed to disappear around. Bolt snapped back and in to drill another round into the chamber, he pulls back, brows lifted while he watches her go go go. There is a wary pause, then: "…You should probably stop her." One liquified Humanis First member is already one more than he was expecting to have to tally up today.
"Yessir." Pants leg still smoldering, Mr. B bolts off after her, right hand already out to snag at the pump of her elbow to jerk her back around. He's quick! Quick despite the tack - tack - tack of a glob of Spanky gunking up the heel of one of his boots. "Hey! Tink! Woah! Slllow down."
This is why you should give radio's to everyone. Aude can't hear Danko's order to stay to Mr. B. But there's the hand on her elbow and she stops, skidding a little in her beat shoes before she's yanked back by Mr. B. quite unceremoniously. "You wanted me to go after her!" She hisses.
For the first time that she can ever recall, there's an emotion that courses through Samantha's veins. It make her blood grow cold as she shivers, back against the brick as she hugs her knees to her with one arm and holds up her weapon with the other. It takes her a few moments before she can actually put a name to that feeling. She finally calls it 'fear'. She's never actually been afraid of anything before and yet, she has this.. this.. this thing in her now. This thing that she's always despised is now a part of her. For a moment, in her blindness, she considers turning her weapon on herself. Putting herself out of her own misery and ridding the world of one more evolved.
She turns the weapon towards her, bringing it to her throat. Her hand shakes as she feels the metal against her neck and she squeezes on the trigger and then..
*Click*
Nothing.
The clip is empty or the weapon is jammed. Fatigue catches up with her and she feels the metal slipping from her fingers and falling down between her and the dumpster before she slips into the land of nothing.