Participants:
| Scene Title | The Fall of the Faerie of Thunder |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Elle goes to work off some steam, and ends up in a rather nasty predicament. She's getting really good at being kidnapped, these days. |
| Date | October 29, 2010 |
Elle spent last night pouring over what she wrote about Warren. All of it was new, information previously unknown to the woman. None of it changed her mind, really; most of it angered her, that he would turn his back on everything, that the Institute would erase everything, that she'd never been given a chance. She's still angry, even after a full night's sleep.
She always did make reckless decisions when she was angry.
Case in point, she followed the directions she had written down on how to get to Mortimer's vault. She's heard about the fact that the Locos are causing trouble, and not much more; she's decided to work off some steam, and to take care of a problem while she's at it. Might as well try to at least help out while she's pitching one of her angry tantrums.
She's dressed in an adorable number today, a dress she got out of a Halloween shop: a dark green mini-dress that is cut way too high, with the bust going way too low, and a pair of black faerie wings rest upon her back. All of it is completed by a pair of rather killer black heels, which boost her height a good five inches. She can be the faerie of thunder tonight. She's made her way up to the door of the vault, and quickly goes through the protocols to enter. She can be their little electric Halloween treat, tonight…
Certainly, this is a bad idea. Not that it stops Elle.
The place isn't full by a long shot, there's only around twelve or so men in today, not counting two who were outside of the vault. They let her in, because she knows how to get in. Secret passwords, knocks, numbers. She's greeted by Number 10, someone in his mid twenties with a short brown haircut, a black suit, and sunglasses with a red number on each lens. "I'm number Ten, current logistics head. Were you sent as a part of the plan?" He doesn't say what plan, and the other men are just sitting around, watching casually.
Elle peers at number ten thoughtfully, rubbing at her pale arm. Not quite warm enough down here underground for such a skimpy outfit, but…a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Elle smiles disarmingly to Number Ten, turning on all of the charm she can muster. "Yes, I was! They didn't really tell me much, though. They told me to ask you to fill me in, actually." She makes sure to move just so, to accent the almost inappropriate outfit she's wearing. It would be better suited to a stripper, really.
"Well then…" Ten rubs his hands together, then straightens his glasses, looking her over. "We think we're getting closer to Fourteen, but the murders aren't working. We think we recently spotted him in Midtown." He reaches out to gently grab her wrist, deciding, "I think you're going to be Fourteen's bride."
The little redhead's brows raise as she peers up at Ten, grinning. "I get to be a bride? I think I can handle that." She manages to hide her initial reaction of disgust at Fourteen's hand on her wrist, instead smiling cheerfully. "So does Fourteen have a name? I'd like to get to know this guy I'm supposed to be marrying." She casts a winning smile around the room, counting who there is. She can get them all with an initial burst, then probably take them out one by one.
"If you keep wearing that, you can be anything you want." Ten leads her around, motioning to the televisions, the bar, chairs. all things she's seen before. "Fourteen is the most powerful man on the planet. Sylar. We just have to find him."
It's all new to Elle, who remembers nothing of this place, so her wonder at the sights is genuine, at the very least. However, as he says that name, Elle seems to stop, turning to stare at Ten agape for a moment. She'll keep him alive, he seems to know the most about this. Once his comrades lay dead on the floor, she'll grill him for answers.
Suddenly, the little redhead smiles, leaning closer to Ten. "I've heard of him. I'd like to marry him. I love power. It's almost…electric, the way it sends shivers down your spine." She grins.
Then, she spreads her hands out. What follows is the crackle of electricity, followed shortly by a literal explosion of it, blue electricity arcing around her in a circle effect, hoping to neutralize them in the process. She misses number thirty-two over there in the corner, though…
Many of them go down, but Thirty-Two stands up when he notices the electricity, suddenly yelling, "Protocol Elle!" The man behind the bar, number Four, suddenly springs up with what looks like some sort of metallic super soaker that certainly isn't fucking around. He presses a few buttons, and suddenly highly pressurized water streams across the room to slam into Elle's side, and he seems to be trying to spread it out over her.
She's still crackling as Thirty-Two stands up. Sneering, Elle unleashes a bolt at him and number ten, first, the blue electricity brightening the room. She can at least take out their tactician, if they're going to play it that way. Then, that water slams into her side. The first thing that happens is the electrokinetic screaming, electricity arcing over her body much as it likely is over ten and thirty-two, now. Spasming, she drops to the ground, electricity still crackling over her.
Shit. She's so stupid to have thought that they wouldn't have a plan for this.
Now neutralized, Elle drops her hand under her skirt, pulling out a gun. This is leveled directly at number four, and three shots ring out. Just in case one of them misses. She's not going down without a fight, if they're going to take her out! Still, she wishes she was a bit less independent now. Lola would have been useful in this fight.
Her other hand reaches into the little nook created by her chest, clicking the button on the little device that rests there. She doesn't want to call Warren, but she has no other way of contacting the outside world right now. Damn this skimpy costume and its lack of pockets.
They drop like flies, but more come, because Protocol Elle isn't over. A metallic chain net is tossed over her body, then another Loco tosses a bucket of water on her, while Ten is coughing and twitching on the ground. He manages to strain out an order. "Chain her up, keep her wet, don't touch her…" he says before finally passing out.
Elle manages to fire off four or five more shots into the crowd of Locos, before that net is tossed over her. She lets out a shout, poking the gun out and emptying her magazine into the group, but there's far too many for her. The bucket of water causes her to splutter, electricity crackling over her again, before completely flickering out. "Fuck…you're not gonna get away with this!" She snarls, thrashing in the net, even though that only makes it worse.
Another Loco gets shot in the fray, and one who seems to be a doctor is attending to both him and number four while the others start to pile on her, attempting to wrestle the gun away and try not to touch her directly. "Once we have our new leader, we'll be able to do anything. We'll have everything we ever dreamed of, just like Warren promised, in the Plan."
Once the clip is empty, Elle begins flailing the gun about, aiming at faces that come near enough to be swung at. He struggles are weakening, though, the girl gritting her teeth. "Warren was a fucking madman with delusions of grandeur! You don't want to get Sylar's attention, you're making a huge mistake!" Finally, the gun is wrenched free from her and, while still struggling, she's pretty fairly neutralized, now. "He'll just use you all, then kill all of you!"
"Warren's plans are absolute, they'll work out for the best. His primary personality is gone now." She can hear footsteps heading in her direction as the men step aside, then she sees the only one actually wearing biker gear anymore. Dressed in all black, his number isn't painted on like the others, he has his red number one smeared down the middle of his helmet with blood. "Fourteen will bend, just like the rest of them." he says with a rather unearthly voice, as if he's speaking through a can. "The next phase of the plan will attract Fourteen for sure. We're going to kill Warren Ray."
Elle glares up at number One, her teeth gritting. "As if you could even hope to kill Warren Ray." She spits in his general direction, struggling against the chain net that holds her in place. She's not going anywhere, soaking wet as she is. "You want a good way to get Sylar's attention? You have her, right here." She grits her teeth. Gabriel might kill her, or he might help her. Who knows how he feels about her these days? But it's worth it. She may really hate Warren right now, but she can't let him get killed. "Find a way to shout it out that you have Elle Bishop. Tell Gabriel Gray to come to you." If anything, it will get people really pissed off at the Locos.
"You're not Elle Bishop. You have her ability, but she was an electric goddess. Warren's most valued person. He neglected us for her, even gave Elle her own division of the Locos. She was a great woman, she'd never have been taken down this easily." One suddenly reaches down to grab the chain, apparently very strong as he tries to heft her over his shoulder. "Let's go, I have some chaining up to do. Warren can't do anything that I haven't taught him. I've had more than one number, I've been here from the beginning. Since he was barely out of high school."
"Evolved can work wonders with a face. Go ahead, ask me about how I was the leader of the Crazy 8's. I never told that to anyone. Ask about that one time that Lola Mayeux came here, and I walked her out." She sneers, kicking as she's hefted over the man's shoulder. "You're insane if you think Warren is going to be taken down as easily as you've deluded yourself into thinking!" She struggles more, though the chain net weighs her down. Her muscles are already screaming from her earlier struggle. "Seriously, tell Sylar that you have Elle Bishop. He'll come running. He used to date Elle Bishop, before he even became Sylar. I'm the reason he is Sylar!"
"You talk too much. We'll see what he says." One drops her on to a couch, and he reaches into the cushions for cuffs to chain her in. "If I maneuver this correctly, Sylar could kill Warren."
Still soaking wet, with muscles burning from the weight of the metallic net that keeps her in place, Elle sneers up at One. "Believe me. Mention Elle Bishop, and Madison Cole, and you'll get your man. I hate Warren too, you know. He betrayed me. He hurt me. I want to help you kill him." She's still struggling, even as she speaks.
Currently, Elle is quite unsure how much of that she is lying about, and how much of that she actually means. He'd better come help her.
"Shut up, traitor whore!" One draws back a fist, almost ready to punch her in the face, then just shakes his head and leaves her there after getting her arms cuffed to the seat. "Enjoy your stay here. I'm sure someone will come for you soon."
Elle flinches as One winds up, though she still glares at him. Just try to punch me, I'll take both of us out. As he chooses not to, Elle sneers at him. "To hell with you. You're just going to die, whether it's by Sylar or Warren. Then, I'll dance on your grave." She spits on the ground after him, tugging at the bonds.
God dammit, Richard is going to yell at her for this.