capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

WHO: X-23 and OPEN.
WHERE: In the streets, on patrol.
WHEN: Four AM, Saturday morning.
WARNINGS: Snikt and snakt. X-23 almost chopping someone to pieces.
SUMMARY: X-23 isn't feeling so great, and so takes things a little too far while on patrol.
FORMAT: tl;dr paragraphs to start, and then quicklog. Unless you really want paragraphs!

*

X-23 doesn't get frustrated. She wasn't designed to become stressed or angry or upset, and as such, won't let things escalate, until everything's out of control; or so the theory goes, at least.

Right now, she's simply focused on the mission that's been laid out for her. That's what she's telling herself. She's gripping the collar of a target's shirt, and with another blow to the jaw, he stumbles back, hitting the wall of the alleyway as he slumps to the ground. Reaching out, he makes a desperate grab for the gun that's already been fired once, and somehow manages to wrap a hand around it. X-23 quickly takes care of that, though; claws snapping out, she slices the barrel of the gun in two, probably severing a fair few fingers in the process.

When he howls out in pain, she raises her fist, and pushes her claws clean through him, right at the joint of his shoulder. She's still striking him with her free fist and right knee when she realises that he's already unconscious, and probably has been for a while. She freezes instantly, mind oddly clouded over, like she doesn't know what's just happened; letting out a heavy breath, she quickly pulls her claws out but doesn't retract them, and places two fingers against his throat.

Although it's weak, there's definitely a pulse. X-23 swallows the lump in her throat, relieved. It's not because she sees something wrong with handling criminals in this way (in her mind, doing so would be a lot more efficient), but because she has direct orders not to kill. Leaving the man slumped where he is, X-23 wanders out of the alley, in the hope of finding a nearby payphone, or somebody who can help.

She digs a bullet out of her side with one claw as she goes, light-headed for all of a second, before the wound closes.

[ ooc; so I can't really ICly ignore the fact that X-23 has no concept of her own emotions, and thus deals with things by a) self-harming, which should be evident enough to anyone who spends any real amount of time with her, and b) flipping out while on patrol. Any help will be appreciated, whether it's a healer or somebody with a mobile phone, and people to shout at her/start a fight with her/lecture her are fine too. Anything goes! ]

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X-23 slides her claws back in with a snakt, and then cautiously takes a step to the side, nodding ever so slightly, to let her know that she can pass.

"Thank you." Whiskey goes over to the man on the ground, and she'll work on helping him. Stopping the bleeding, and waiting with him until the ambulance gets here. She works fast. Very quickly, clearly with some amount of medical training.

With a final glance out of the alleyway, X-23 follows her, and crouches down besides the man. She knows the basics of anatomy, and how to take down a target without leaving much of a mark at all, but she really doesn't know as much as she'd like to about reversing the process. She keeps her eyes fixed on her hands, on what she's doing, as she works.

Whiskey keeps her eyes on what she's doing, not looking up at all. "I think that he will live."

X-23 tenses, momentarily, and then simply nods her head.

“Good.”

"Did he offend you? Or try to hurt you?"

X-23 gestures to half of the gun on the floor, one finger still wrapped around the trigger.

“Already removed the bullet.”

She glances at the gun, and nods. "And you will live? Are you worried that he'll tell?"

“Correct,” X-23 says, not seeing much of a need to make an effort to keep any information to herself, after what's just happened. “He isn't a threat.”

Working to cut off some particularly heavy bleeds. "He could forget. About you, I mean."

X-23 glances at the man, at the bruises and swelling already forming across his face, and then nods.

“Correct. Could suffer from memory loss.”

It's not entirely what she meant, but she's not going to correct it. "Do you want him to?"

It's an odd question, but nothing about the woman's reaction has been anything short of unusual, thus far. X-23 gives her a nod; after all, it'd work out better for her. Somehow, she managed to get away with killing a handful of criminals on her first day in the City, but she knows better than to push her luck.

Edited 2010-01-24 00:54 (UTC)

"I could make him forget." Watching the other woman now. It's an offer, but it's also a question. A test of her own ability and a way to be helpful. "It's good to be useful."

X-23 furrows her brow at what she's suggesting, but isn't entirely surprised. It's four AM and the woman was roaming around alone, and seemed unusually calm, when faced with a walking weapon and a man slowly bleeding out; it all adds up.

“Powers?”

She nods, once, and works on another bleeder. "Yes. Powers."

“Identification on the network?” she asks flatly, never really knowing who she's talking to over the device, half of the time.

"My name is Whiskey." Her identification. Her name. It's all the same.

“Understood.”

Not somebody she's communicated with before, then.

She nods again, and touches the back of the man's neck. She'll take the man's memory of what X-23 looks like, unless told not to. Keep it or discard it somewhere into the ether at some point. "He'll live," she repeats.

“Okay.” With that, X-23 gets to her feet, so that she's looking down at the both of them. “Use your powers.”

"All right." It barely takes a moment, and there's no real discernable change in anyone's behavior. The man is unconscious after all, and it's not really a behavioral memory. "He won't remember."