Subterfuge

January 23, 2016:

A trip searching for information on Beast's whereabouts leads to a bit more insight and a captive.

Club Subterfuge

Characters

NPCs: Scaleface

Mentions:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Underground was right. In the most literal sense.

Close enough to where Ravager had helped Jean and Scott, this place tactically seemed like one she'd gather intel from in regards to Beast's whereabouts and that of these Morlocks. Outisde of the tunnel door that leads to an old abandoned subway station the metal door bears a few openly mutant bouncers, arms crossed and their goon faces on. One was gilled, but more of n amphibious nature then that of aquatic in a stricter sense, his skin bearing a sheen that only said 'sticky'. The other was almost completely melded in camouflage to the brick backdrop, his eyes rotating in an idle fashion from their bulbous sockets, his attire setting him out from the brickwork of a black shirt that bears blacklight reactive writing of 'Subterfuge Security' across it.

When they pulled up and got out of the cab Ravager put on the half mask, framing her bionic eye, stepping down a separate space to set her duffel down and strap on the rigging that crosses along shoulders and runs down her arms. Jointed where necessary it keeps motions fluid and natural, if it was not for the weapons she is anchoring into place within the riggings holsters. Two pistols just above the elbows to run along triceps, and the swords that go from wrist along her ulna to point the tips at the barrel of guns. Over the top her coat is slid on, where inside the lining several flashes of tucked away blades can be seen, but when buttoned, nothing but the flaring openings around legs encased in those boots and the gartered hold atop thighs.

"I do not know what it is exactly you 'do' Peter, but I do hope you are prepared in case we need it." Beast was one Rose considered a friend. A wet blanket, but a friend and even if she did not find him tonight she is hoping to get /somewhere/.

A few steps to the right she almost has to turn sideways, but sliding into a crouch fingers knot into sewer holes and pull the manhole cover free with a rusted crack of metal having spent years untouched until she mapped this out and chipped erosion away.

"I don't -do- security." Obviously.

Peter thinks about saying something but then just nods. He might want to get in a less obvious way in the future so better to know now how to do it. "I'm good to go." he assures her. "They're giving me a place to stay; least I can do is help get their friend back. Lead the way."

The tunnel drops down, but Ravager braces herself to the straight southern shoot to Mutant Hell. Otherwise known as the club Subterfuge. You had to be a mutant or a 'wanna be' to be here. And wanna be is: with a mutant who will vouch for you - protect you. Through concrete walls of the sewer tube the bass can be felt, enough to vibrate muscles in their brace to lower Rose down like she belonged in a spy show.

"One moment…" And a couple pass below her, they can be seen through a vent that sports a large fan to filter out smoke and steam, blowing it up their way. If Peter kept sliding he would almost be piggy backing Ravager in her brace to keep aloft and hidden, but once the others pass, booted foot kicks open the vent, a knife stabbed into the rotor of the fan to stop it and they are dropping down to ground level.

Just ahead from light luminescence to complete darkness, strobes filter out glimpses of dancing, drinking, and the waft of smoke… varying kinds. Drugs, legals, chemicals.

when Rose lands she rights and dusts her shoulders off and heads right for the room when Peter does the same, speaking lowly to him. "Keep a keen ear out for anyone speaking of him, or of prisoners, or well…anything not club oriented…"

Though once they get inside the bodies become a claustrophobic thing. Writhing in dance, sitting in conversation, or upon dilapidated couches. Upon one couch a female sits upon a mans lap, her body not reacting to the glow of blacklight paint, but to the light reactive to…scales?

Rose on the other hand is doing her own dance to avoid being bumped into or touched, her upper lip recoiled in obvious disdain. So not her thing… Unless.. "I need a drink…"
Peter follows Rose down, moving when she moves and pausing when she pauses, all the while taking mental notes of the way to get into the club without being seen. Never know. He nods at her instruction but as they get closer, he pauses, eyes narrowing at all the noise of so many thoughts thinking things that are… not what he wants to be listening to. He considers putting a shield up for as long as he can hold it but they're here to get information and listening to their thoughts is the best way to do it. "Yes." he agrees, looking around at all the mutants and trying not to stare. He's not used to the ones with physical mutations. "A drink sounds like a good idea."

The music playing is not very known, at least not dominantly, but that is to be expected in a club such as this, and Rose's attire fit the theme, but her corseted trenchcoat fits, the boots, an the hints of vinyl beneath. She did her research, but that's her 'job' when she is not hanging at the X-Manse.

The bodies dance, some half naked, others well on their way, and they let their mutations show, as this was just the place for that, the wannabes ultimately are steps behind, but none the less they get what they want: Time with mutants or metas of their wishes. Minds whirl, and no, it is likely Peter does not want to know, or maybe he does, but the conversation is limited to yells above the bass and techno drill of pulsing beats and lyrics while the Dj (a female bearing hands that glow with every impact on the beat sliders) is at deafening decibels, even the smoke machine cranks out steamed plumes while above a machine produces bubbles that make everything around them that much more slippery.

When Peter agrees Rose only smiles, a slight lift of one corner of lips and the bar is hit, her order yelled with two fingers held up to emphasize for herself and her companion Peter who is getting looked over by a male and his lap-bearing female partner. Up-downs of reflective eyes that prove to be contacts.

Audible though it resonates, a single thought borne on a pant and edged with a hiss/ «So huuunngrrry. Eat before I take my turn on guard.» And if the projection can be spotted it is the woman whose scales are becoming more and more visible in the blacklights reaction as she sits upon an obvious humans lap and strokes along his cheek with elongated claws that pop through the tips of fingers..
No, Peter does NOT want to know. It's old by now; almost two decades of hearing people's thoughts and secrets, their loves and hates and lusts as well as what they want for dinner and whether that dress looks good on her. It's all the same and he tries to tune it out except for anything that might lead them to McCoy. /Nod if you can hear me./ he thinks to Rose. /It'll be easier to talk this way than yelling for everyone to hear. Don't worry, I'm not digging./

The drinks are served and Rose turns to offer one to Peter and it shatters in her grip. His attempt to communicate obviously went through, as she was leaving it open for…other reasons, but Peter slipped in, and this causes her gaze to narrow at him while she offers him the other glass in its stead. The UV Vodka was a glass within a glass, surrounded by red bull and meant to react to the lights in its own glow. «Not a fan of mental invasion.»

"One more." Rose turns back to the tender who stares and then grins, nodding to serve up another. Peter can feel the sudden walls go up, the radio silence, just before they open back up again.

«Just so you know. You lost kudos.» And upon her drinks delivery it is brought to her lips and those mismatched eyes begin scanning, the one surrounded in the half-mask glowing a red lined in green to indicate an almost reptilian point of view, infrared and night. Just as he can mentally hear it…she's seeing it and her good eye tic's at a corner. «Some things you cannot unsee. Anything?» Inquired as she sets the empty glass down, a simultaneous impact with the rising of the scaled woman with her counterpart.

«Come, my pet. You will do. I will drag you to the deep where no one findsss anyone.»
There's a single blink as the glass shatters and then he takes the second one that's offered. «Like I said, not digging.» he sends again. He puts his back to the bar and looks around the club, listening to everyone's thoughts and trying to separate out anything useful from the cacophony. «Nothing about McCoy. Though I think the snake woman is about to kill and eat the guy she's with. We should probably stop that.»

«Not digging? I don't care. If anyone fucks my head it's me. Knock next time, I know you people can.» If he could feel mental barbs they were poking him like an annoying child demanding attention… but with pointy nails.

The glass is slid to the tender and another two are ordered with held up fingers. On that note Rose is offering another to Peter and downing her own in a manner that shows through the lighting. There and gone, but when he notes the snake woman and her attempted prey, Rose is offering a shrug while eyes rise and hunt for what Peter is talking about. «That's all going to go to her hips.»

Cough.

An exaggerated exhale and she is shoving away from the bar to sliiiddee along the eave for a better vantage. Just in time to see them make their exit out the way they had just come.

«Be a pity really….» For who, the prey or the snake ladys hips?? Who knows, but Rose throws up two more fingers and as the drinks come sliding over she is catching them and making them a to-go order.

As they come to the entry to the club opening though they can see the snake woman and her quarry, her guiding him in a dance that has his back slamming against a wall, her hand smearing over the broken brickwork to press between grooves and a metal door that appeared forever-sealed… Falling open. Her other hand smooths lower on the males body, claws rending his shirt open and revealing every breath beneath torn fabric and flesh. Anticipatory, but not wary even as she drug him beyond.

Sip.

«Man, desperation tastes bad.» A slight head tilt in their direction and the door closes to beyond and deeper, but… They saw. No secrets here.
«Knock? How?» Peter finishes his drink and takes the second. He keeps his eyes on the snake woman but isn't sure whether to stop her or not. It might cause a scene and that could get bad. Another round? He downs his drink then follows Rose, the alcohol starting to make a nice muffler to all the thoughts coming at him. Almost as good as Oxy. «His or hers?» he asks, questioning the desperation.

«Both. She did not have to take him away if you saw…well..» Peter saw, and Rose knows it.

The door opening gets both brows rising and gaze shifting to Peter, when they disappear behind the metal solid enclosure the glasses in both hands are kept close, even shuffled as she feels for the opening the snake lady used to open it, doing the same, but opening it to an empty corridor to more sewer tunnels.

«I think they wanted privacy, I am more then willing to oblig—-»

"Oh, shit…Nonono NO!"

ROAAARRR!

Rose hands Peter his third glass as she knocks back her own and heads in. «Okay, voyeur of the week award goes to us!» But as Rose is headed in and tossing the glass aside to make it shatter against the wall her coat is also being shed to cling around her waist where the corset holds but leave weaponry free.

What they stumble upon though is no woman and man. Okay, a man, held beneath a large clawed appendage and the body that rests in coils and bulk above… resembles a dragon, the slow build up of smoke spiraling from nostrils while her captive is skewered in place through a shoulder and held by massive bulk.
Peter Stanchek takes the glass and just holds onto it for now as they rush further inward. And then he stops and stares. Dragons don't exist right? That can't be a mutant? Can it? He shoots a look at Rose to see what she's doing then pounds it with a bolt of telekinetic force, aiming to knock it away from the man.

Unexpected.

The force sends Scaleface rolling off the man in a massive blow that shakes the tunnels they meant to hide within, but what rains down is brick and…bone. Skeletal remains and an eyeless skull roll to face the man on the ground, bleeding out. Adding to his shock he tries to scuttle away but fails, mid roll and scream he passes the hell out - facedown with a hand clutching his shoulder.

What leaps over him is Ravager's attack, the blades slashing outward when the rotors of her brace are sent into motion, putting the hilts into her grip for the crossed attack that has her embedding herself into the massive side like a persistent cat to its post.

That made evident when the dragon-woman lets out another roar (drowned out above by the bass and music) and spins to try and claw Ravager off its flank while blasting the entry with fire towards Peter.
The fire splashes harmlessly against Peter's force shield though he instinctively takes a step back anyway. Fire breathing dragon. Seriously? This time he just tries to pin the dragon woman up against a wall for Rose to finish off, any hesitation about killing her gone once he saw all the bones.

Ravager would normally love to finish Scaleface off, but the rain of bones has her remembering…

«This is the place where I had an encounter before…Or, the bones..» One set of which was hard to mistake, that of Lightning Bug impacting the floor and turning to ash as brittle decay sets to the heated winds surmounting from the 'dragons' flames.

When Peter slams the dragon back, her claws set in hoping to keep her grounded upon the impact, dragging with an eardrum shattering screech across the ground, chipping up rubble and rot beneath to leave the embedded path behind. Impacting a wall the infernal screech omitted is one that runs down spines and normally would incite a flight response, but when Peter gives Ravager the opening, she takes it.

One sword is pulled from the thick hide and spun, her weight shifting to drag her back and around as claws seek to rid itself of the inherited 'vermin', landing the freed weapon into her back, using it as anchoring. All the while her legs are flailing out with every wretched screech and scream of the trapped and impaled beast.

«You will all die! Your actions have not gone unnoticed and we will start with the beasts and work our way to the burdens!» Her voice resonated outward upon the shriek, likely heard by Peter but after his intrusion Ravager closed down all other paths, wavering though as she rolls to the side and releases one sword to avoid claws.

«This is just below an old bunker I was in… We need in her mind… But let's not get cooked first. I like myself rare.»
Peter walks forward, trusting to his force shield to ward off any fire or claws. "Stop struggling." he tells her. It's almost conversational in tone and she just redoubles her efforts. "I said stop." he repeats, bearing down on her mind until she finally stops moving. After that, it's easy. "Change back to your human form." As she begins to do so, he looks at Rose. "Do you want to question her here or elsewhere?"

Peter's coercion works, slowly, Ravager is on a bronco rise of her life and with each attempt at her that tears the ends of her coat and tangles in it in claws she is slipping, but with her fall is the open wounds of sword burrowed within scaled hide. The pain snaps Scaleface out here and there, but Peter's advancement and persistence wins especially after Rose releases, kicking back to land a distance away in a crouch, the blades swiveling back into their pivoting holster and the pistols replace…

From large draconic figure to human form Scaleface is a bleeding mess, open wounds and rage emanate their own ichor and heat in her stare towards Peter.

"How dare you interfere?!?" And when she moves to lunge Ravager is meeting her midway, the butt ends of pistols slamming into her cranium with a large crack. A blow to drop the woman, but incapacitate for how long?

Looking up there are more doors, more pathways and all barred, but for now Ravager will settle for what they have. Mismatched gaze snaps down to the limp form of Scaleface and then to Peter. "Let's get her back to base. Can you use your mentally manipulations and such to keep her down?" As she inquires her hand rises and goes to her temple in a near 'hoodoovoodoo' finger wiggle gesture. "Because she may know something given the place… And if she wakes I'll shoot her in the head."

Peter nods and walls off Scaleface's consciousness from her body. Even if she comes to, she won't be able to do anything, not even see with her eyes closed. Reaching for her collar, he lifts her up telekinetically and drags her after him. "Let's go. I'll keep anyone from noticing us." They're just not that important. Following Rose, they retrace their route back to the car and she drives them back to the Institute while he makes sure Scaleface remains locked in.

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