“There's a fire starting here—”

[invoking]

WHO: monica & gil.
WHERE: wherever monica is busting in on.
WHEN: let's go with midnight 3/15.
WARNINGS: violence and language. probably blood.
SUMMARY: wrong place, wrong time. maybe.
FORMAT: quick.


[ It had been months since Gil flexed his marksman abilities, so today after calling the only available shooting range he could find in the City, he went to this Westside Rifle & Pistol Range to take a look himself. They had tried to tell him to browse their webpage, but having no idea how to operate the Internet yet, Gil opted to inspect the place in person. No harm in that. It seemed... alright. It was the only place he could open fire on a target without risking charges.

On the way back, he had taken a taxi instead, not entirely familiar with the area the range was in. After some time when it had become clear the taxi driver was either new or taking a longer route to cheat money out of Gil, he had spoken up. The driver argued back and then Gil found himself growing frustrated and the driver did not take well to it. Upon realizing he was an imPort, Gil got kicked out of the cab ("You fuckin' imPorts think you can just talk however and do whatever you want! Piss off, ya alien!" the driver had yelled) and was left in another unfamiliar part of the city.

Lost and irritable (he barely has any change left), Gil now wanders down the street, debating giving Nelson or Kenzi a call to figure out where he is and where to find the subway. Just as he takes out his phone, he senses there's something-- someone-- else around and he stops, certain he's spotted a shadow moving somewhere past him. ]

Comments

[invoking]

He'll go into shock if you keep hurting him.

[uzi]

It would make me feel better.

But, fine. _{( She steps away from the man and rises back to her feet. )}

Would you like to try?

[invoking]

[ He freezes, not sure he heard that right. ]

What?

[uzi]

The cops will be here in five minutes, tops. I need the intel, and to get out of here, before then. If you don't like my methods, come up with some of your own.

1/2

[invoking]

Are you serious?!

[invoking]

[ His mind races, trying to come up with a method to get the guy to talk. ]

Damn it... [ He quickly looks back at the man. How can he get him to talk? Five minutes may not be enough time to get him to say anything. ]

Just say something already!

[ Of course that's not going to work. ]

[uzi]

_{( Monica offers him a flat look. She is always serious. But when the man doesn't answer, she rolls her eyes. )}

Maybe we can bargain with our new friend. Strike a deal.

[invoking]

[ Gil doesn't know what he can do at this point. There's barely any time if the police are en route and this guy she's after isn't about to give up whatever information it is she needs. It must be something worth protecting, that's for sure.

He can only think of one solution at this time. He wrestles with the idea, his left hand tightening around his gun. ]

You said the police will be here soon. So... you need somewhere to talk to him. Somewhere private.

[uzi]

_{( Another jab of pain hits, directly behind her eyes and through her skull. She doesn't wince, but she runs one hand through her hair in a motion designed to hide the fact that she's feeling out her injury. The blood's still flowing; she needs to hurry this along. )}

That would be best, yes. Thank you for proving you can think.

_{( She looks back at the man and her resolve unwinds, a fraction. Such a small thing, not worth this trouble. But if he dies or gets away, the entire organization will go to ground. Months of planning, of waiting, of questioning and searching, will be wasted. )}

1/2

[invoking]

[ His shoulders hunch for a second. ]

I'm trying to help! Because I'm stuck in this situation now!

[invoking]

[ He lets out a huff and then groans; moving his shoulder like that wasn't smart. He can tell he's still bleeding, the blood now dripping out of his sleeve. It's only a few droplets, but he needs to patch it up sooner than later.

He presses his hand to his neck, feeling the carcere underneath the collar. Some of the blood stains the white fabric. ]

... I can take us somewhere. [ The only place he could think of is his own home. The MAC would be ideal if there weren't too many imPorts around.

But the penthouse...

He hopes Sue would forgive him for this. ]

[uzi]

_{( She doesn't hesitate, doesn't question it. She doesn't have the time. Instead she leans down, picks up the thug, and hoists him over one shoulder. He's close to shock, going in and out of consciousness. )}

Lead the way.

[invoking]

Hold on. This might be uncomfortable...

[ Even he loses his footing when he utilizes Raven's abilities.

He can already hear sirens. ]

Raven! [ He calls aloud and the shadows around them begin to swirl quickly, rising out of the ground and spreading apart, taking the shape of large feathers.

Gil moves close to Monica in case and then they're swallowed up by darkness.

The ambient noises of the city disappear entirely and then there's a dim light again, coming from the moonlight shining from a window.

They're inside a large penthouse, dropped right smack in the living room, but they're alone. Scattered around them are more black feathers.

Gil stumbles slightly, leaning on the edge of a chair to catch his breath. He hasn't used Raven in months, so it takes its toll on him. ]

Are... you alright?

[uzi]

<sub>( The experience is one she's unprepared for. Still holding onto their hostage, Monica sways with the motion of the magic. It is magic, right? She can't even process. She deals with Norse gods on a daily basis, but usually stays away from the explanations. It's too much of a headache.

When her vision clears she's on her knees, though she doesn't remember sinking down to them. She lets the man--now completely out cold--tumble off her shoulders as she catches her breath and clears her head. )</sub>

What the hell was that?

_{( And then, looking around... )}

This is Susan's apartment.

[invoking]

[ He pants lightly, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. With a hasty sleeve he wipes away. ]

My power -- well, rather my chain's power.

[ And he pauses, surprised by her familiarity with the place. ]

You knew Sue Storm?

[uzi]

Your power? That's not like punching out a building, Gilbert! That was--

_{( She pauses, takes a deep breath. Rising to her feet, she nods curtly. )}

She was... a friend. We worked together, back home. Or some version of her. Not much difference, universally.

[invoking]

[ To him, there is a big difference. He knows Sue's family were from all over the so-called multiverse.

He rubs his face again. ]

... Anyway, you can question him now. No one will bother us here.

[uzi]

_{( She gives Gilbert one long, considering look, and then takes a step away with a shrug. She lifts the man onto one of Sue's couches, and unclips a pouch of basic medical supplies from her hip. She doesn't actually want this fool to die, after all. )}

If you want to be useful, boil some water. _{( She calls, over her shoulder, to Gil. )}

[invoking]

[ He has a first aid kit in the bathroom, which he makes a note of fetching as soon as he's gotten the kettle boiling. As he takes off, he does give Monica a look: ] Don't... do anything drastic.

[ He doesn't want a dead person in the house. He already knows if there's evidence left behind he'll probably have to burn it now. ]

[uzi]

_{( She blinks. )}

Mr. Nightray, please. I'm a professional.

[invoking]

[ He moves at a fast pace, disappearing into the bathroom to get the first aid kit and a couple of towels. After another few minutes when the water set in the kitchen has begun to boil and whistles through the nose of the kettle, he fetches it and carefully sets it on the coffee table nearby. He sticks close, just in case. ]

How long have you been after this man?

[uzi]

_{( She's cleaning his wounds, picking out the bullets expertly and quickly. The pain will probably rouse the guy, before long. )}

Him? Six hours. His organization? Three months.

[invoking]

You said they were a danger to imPorts.

[ As he moves in to get a better look at the man, he groans lightly at the sudden pain in his shoulder. He slowly lifts his arm and begins to pull off his coat, the shoulder smeared with blood and he lets it drop to floor, away from anything that could be stained. He can't be sure the blood has stopped, but he needs to apply some pressure to it, so he grabs one of the towels and holds it to his shoulder for now. ]

[uzi]

They are.

_{( She injects something, out of a syringe, into the man's neck. It isn't fatal; she checks his vitals, and finishes wrapping his wounds. Then she turns to Gilbert, nods at his arm. )}

Let me see.

[invoking]

I can manage. [ It's true; he's had worse. He also doesn't want to start opening up his shirt before her, too conscious of revealing his scars so he steps back. ] What are they planning to do? This group.