He did the Mobster Mash, and it's an M-Town Smash

August 02, 2016:

Following up on Zelda's intel the X-Force team kidnaps a mob boss. (Language, Violence, Vulgarity)


NPCs: None.


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Zelda proved to be rather sturdy once she realized her puppy was safe and sound. She even withstood the grim stares of Rose, being hauled through complete darkness in a van of all things and Ripclaw threatening her with an Edward Scissorhands style'n haircut. What broke her was getting out of the van to meet C.C. at first an adorable encounter of what a cute kitty turned in to screams of terror as the woman's phobia for walking talking plushies came to bare. After that Zelda, Filthy Frankie's number one girl squealed like a pig on a roast.
What they learned from Zelda was detailed and full of froth, he is working alongside Mother-May I in an attempt to black out the city, he is the ones with the old plans and the ability to get her people in and out without issue. He also knows exactly where Mother-May I hides. Just as Zelda knew where he is hiding.

Now. Days after release of Zelda. Scale's Pool Lounge. This is where Filthy Frankie hides out, hangs out and spends a major portion of his time. Also where the X-Force is now standing a block away, able to watch as Frank arms up. All of his boys are covering the Lounge, door to door. Even a giant of a man with short cropped hair had seen himself in, a rather famous mug in the scene of modern day mobsters, Man Mountain Marko. Not a mutant himself but a juicer of sorts, superhuman by means of advanced steroids and genetic modification. Likely on loan as a made man from an ally, friend or family member, who knows how deep Frankie's connections are.

"This will not be a quiet encounter." Ripclaw warns the others.

Nate was just back from the X-school when Ripclaw grabbed him for the mission. He never got a chance to explain him his telepathy is almost gone since he mind-blasted the Genoshan Punchout.

It has happened before, but usually only after a major use of his powers. This time it wasn't that. Probably chemical, since he very suddenly stopped taking the painkillers he used to control his headaches. He was going to ask Dr. Corben about it. He definitely will when they are back.

But if Mother May shows up, they might not get back alive.

"So what do we want from Frankie this time?" He asks with some curiosity while counting human minds.

Ravager stands back, arms down while hands find home in the pockets of the short cropped leather jacket, a cigarette dangling from lips while head remains downcast and shorn white hair veils her face with the entanglement of white smoke screen.

"When is it ever?" Her words seem dead lighted, a lull that has come with the lack of aphrodisiacs, opiates, or alcohols. But then again, Nate has to stop chewing his pills as well in order to keep it rolling… Which leaves both of them fucked. But spewing forth from one pocket it what seems to be a black Pomeranian, and when her hand falls away to plop it on her head and situate it… It's a long and semi-decent wig.

Emo-scene in the sweep of bangs and short choppy layers that she sweeps from her face but as she does so, Chip queues in the shift of milky white eye and digitalizes it to match the other blood-shot blue.
"You really need some Vis—"
"Don't preach Chip, or I break your controller."
"fine, maybe water?"

Boots clatter over broken concrete, tanker in form and unbuckled, but heeled to alter her height by four inches, bleeding into tattered fisnets that ascent into cut off short-shorts.

Dirty Diana.

"Apparently we want him screaming…" Not quiet, right? Quiet Riot?

Bitch looks 80's, don't hate.

Aw, puppy. Lunair is sympathetic to someone who worried about their pet. She likes C.C. PLUSHIE! He's just the cutest. Lunair looks concerned at the encounter this time, but she goes with it. She looks to Rose. "I see." She seems uncertain. "Hi Chip!" She greets Chip cheerily. But Lunair blinks. "Why is he going to scream?"

"Okay, Rose and Luna, you two are going in. They have never encountered you, " He indicates Lunair with a tip of his head and then looks at Rose up and down, "Interesting choice for a disguise." Not disapproval. The feral cyber-mutant is grinning a little but then if any of them have paid attention anytime a confrontation is on the horizon Robert smiles. Sometimes just a little.
"Nate, keep us linked so they can call for us when they find Frankie." Leaning in to the wall by the parking garage they're near goes quiet, arms folding over his chest. One step closer to Cyberdata's inner circle if they can nail Frankie.

There are guards present, they look everyday though there is a serious mobster theme going with some of them. Weapons is how they stand out and an attempted serious look as they walk around the pool lounge, a lounge that is largely deserted aside from these men, VIPs of the lounge who have paid their dues to be here and of course the 'bunnies' or party favors that show up as entertainment; most of them prostitutes dressed as such.
One man at the door is always present. A big man with broad shoulders and a tiny head. Abnormally tiny. It actually looks like a babies face atop a muscled powerful body. Clearly a mutant (It is not Strong Guy!).

"Can't do that," replies Nate, apologetic. "My teep has been working badly the past few days, ever since I psi-blasted a Genoshan thug. I can barely read minds that are close. Telekinetics will have to do for now."

"It's in style…" Hesitation is evident, as Rose hates the 80's. Hates, but emo-scene and high waisted with booty a-show is "in" and she is owning it after some video tutorials as well as purchases. But this is why she does side jobs on the MercNet. It buys her a two hundred dollar wig and a new gig as well as a pack of cigarettes (she can have them and coffee! 12 steps and all!).

"…and I like the denim feel up my ass." A slide of finger along the thigh-ridden hike, and with a snap she steps from their vantage with a hook-in-arm to Lunair, and the 'ladies' saunter on out towards their targets.

Nate's warning is heard as well on his arrival, but her own abilities are dampened yet… -here she is!-… or so she feels…

Leaning towards Lunair she whispers almost lovingly into her ear.. "Because, eventually it won't be a quiet encounter. You work with my father…" So you should know… But the final is left to hang as the whisper is left and a guard is given a bright smile with a flick of fingers to sweep bangs from cold blue eyes.

A Brooklyn accent is upon Ravager's lips as she speaks… "We're here by request." A flick of n up-down on the guard. "You the one who paid the price?" And with a lift of one corner of lips the smile becomes a ravishing yet demure projection of inspection worth gold. Or paid for in gold…

Lunair can create clothes, so she goes with a hugely, startlingly frilly Gothic Lolita look in return to her roots. Complete with a little frilly headpiece. Did she crawl out of a video game or anime? Who knows? "Okay," Lunair nods. She will go with Rose. A peer at Nate. "I'm sorry. I hope you feel better soon, and your teep stops hurting." Poor guy. Lunair lacks brain powers. She will follow Rose.

Though, she blinks at Rose. Headtilt.

Well, okay. "That sounds painful." Lunair does not like wedgies. She's odd-looking. "And oh." Okay. Lunair just goes with Rose's not so quiet later encounter rules. A polite nod and smile. She says nothing. Totally mysterious, right?

"Bit more info that I was going for, Rose." Robert jokes then looks back across the street, "Can't? Then I guess we're doing this the old fashioned way. One of you two will have to get a signal out to us." A hand rubs at the back of his neck as his teammates make they way in to Scale's Pool Lounge.
"My faith in this team ever doing anything covert is very limited." Ripclaw states quietly to Nate. Serious or not? Who can tell with the man right now.

The bouncer hardly looks down at the past his large torso, misogyny set to full power he waves them through, all he heard was girls voices, smelled perfume and seen to women. They're harmless.
Inside the Pool Lounge the smoke is thick, rules for indoor health concerns not a factor here, the pool tables are numerous and from one end of the floor to the next, except in the back section where the VIP section is bordered off by booth walls. It is also where the largest mess of the for-hire-entertainers are loitering, huddled and laughing or dancing around further in tables where no doubt Filthy Frankie is. Man Mountain Marko stands out like the elephant in the room that he is, over by the bar, leaning against it and watching everyone who enters or leaves. No drink in hand. He is in business mode.

… Yeah… Harmless.

Lunair's hesitation is noted for the moment and nothing more. Her friendship with the woman established and engrained, and if it came down to it, Rose would -die- for those Lolita frills to remain unsinged, the PLUSHIE C.C. to remain stitched, and Chip to have the life he wanted… corben… He can have her alcohol stash… Rip? Peace… But that's what they'd all get a lifetime of…. especially when the technovirus would be bled out fruitfully…

Once inside, Ravager gives a nudge of hip to Lunair, one that redirects her towards Man Mountain as he looked like he needed frills, while a nearby table is ascended in a crawl…

A motion that seems primal, wanton when done by Rose with a bow of bared spine before she rises to knees…
And her eye flickers behind the fallen bang, but with a craning of neck in a salacious bow… A sweep of the room is scaped by her bionic eye and fed to Nate as well as Ripclaw.

All the while the girls have a show to put on…
Nate waits until the women are inside to respond to Ripclaw. "Pff, we can be covert if we plan ahead," which he never does. But hey, Forge used to and he learned to be stealthy. Besides, he can Astral project (usually), so he can be extra-sneaky.

"I don't think we can get Frankie out without a fight, though. Maybe if I just fly him out the second the ladies find him?" Assuming no one in there can fly, that is.
Cybernetic implants come in extra helpful in situations like this. With Rose's eye feeding a POV to the two men outside they can see through her one eye, she isn't holding still real well with the dancing show she is putting on but they get visual confirmation of Filthy Frankie sitting in the back table, vantage given since Rose ascended one to get a better look around. He looks far too relaxed to be prepared or aware the X-Force team was outside. Maybe he has just that much faith in the Mountain.
"If not, it can be taught, but I would suppose if it isn't necessary why waste the effort. " Ripclaw adds, "Visuals, if you can fly him out snare him. Ravager and Armory can level the place from the inside and I'll pick off stragglers while you get him somewhere you can pry in to his mind or we can interrogate. We just need to know where Mother May-I is before the rioting begins and as a bonus to damage him enough he doesn't want to get in our way again."

Marko has no interest in Rose or Lunair, even if they are to approach him he will ignore them. If anything he looks bored to tears. He is living up to the name Mountain in several regards. Bad week for him perhaps? Maybe it is punishment for him to come down here and help out Frankie and his mob squad.

Lunair catches on after a moment. "Ah! Hi, Mister!" Wavewave. Lunair beams at him. "We did indeed pay to get in, but it's always wise to tip, yes?" She's trying to talk to the fellow, and looks concerned. "And I don't think I've met you? I am Rin. Nice to meet you." She looks to poor Mountain.

"There he is," points out Nate. "I guess I will snatch him now, no sense in letting him join the real party and then get hit by stray bullets." Besides, he doesn't want his girlfriend dancing for those thugs. At least not if he is not there to watch too!

So his left eye blazes to life and he flies straight into the building. Slowing down only a little to phase through a way and land on top of Franky, tables get broken and bodyguards sent flying. "Franky, Zelda wants to see you." He grabs the gangster by the neck, "sorry about the party, but I am sure you are going to be entertained anyway." He is going to get shot for that, but the telekinetic bubble forming around Frankie and himself is quite bulletproof.

To leave the room he uses the ceiling. And he leaves a rather large, round hole. Watch out for the bricks and bits.

The Mountain is… bored?? Really? Lolita is not an easy thing to come by…

But, none the less Ravager's visual is fed through, a slow spin then, only seen in first person but what goes on on the other side…

A slow rotatin, a motion of hips while hands smooth upward over demin, grip the leather coat and with a flick it is free'd of her shoulders, down arms… Revealing old and yellowing bruises of track marks… as well as scars of battle but easily constued with that of street hardships…

Through the Eye: The coat is shed and tossed at a table where Frankie sits, making a herald of yells rise, but then a lecherous grin comes to one of the mens lips with a flash of teeth….

… The debris shattering thrugh the building does not stop Rose, the cigarette dancing from lips to fingertips and flicked aside with a splay of arms… But as her back is revealed to them while her body lowers into a near crouch on the table the belt laden with weapons comes to view - as well as the lacing of fingers into the lateral hunting knives across spine…

Drawing them with a flicker of smoke dimmed lighting..

Amongst the fall of ceiling from Nate's sudden capture Ravager does not stop, her eye dimming to white and then red, heat sensory kicking in to find those seeking escape while the large blades are flung in the direction of the others within.

"Luna! Twerk him then level that mountain!"

"Nate has us clear… ORDERS?!?" The final yell to Ripclaw in wait…

Lunair looks amused, and concerned. And then her eyes widen as Rose does a nearly magical girl transformation. Except with more kicking. The Twerker appears in her hand, and levels it at said target. There'll be debris clearing and mountain leveling.

… with the Twerker. As mobsters dance, looking horrified. THEIR BUTTS ARE OUT OF CONTROL.

It's like that Miley Cyrus thing, but so, so much worse.

"Get lost little girl. I'm workin'" Full on New York mobster accent coming out of Marko as he waves off the attractive lolita's disarm and distraction by attempt.

Before the words fully leave Marko's mouth Nate is ripping through the structure at amazing speeds, TK rippling outwards with psychokinetic effects before the young Post-Apoc warrior is descending on his ward. Its all so fast that the mob boss is swept away in a tear through the roof.


Yelled but responses are slower than the Ravager's. The femme fatal is slicing up the men nearest like a whirlwind full of scimitars, a dervish of fury and martial prowess.

Scale's Pool Lounge has just turned in to a Kill Bill scene with faster paced music. A remix of violence.
The twerk gun has Marko's attention shifting from the cross-dimensional couple's mayhem to Armory again, "You two? Shit, I really messed up this time." His fist rises, a huge fist probably the size of a basket ball and then the twerker blast hits him, his hand unclasps from punch mode to clap down on his thigh, the other joining it on the opposite and his butt thrusts up and out, then up and down and all around. This is a huge dishonor and embarrassment for a man like Marko, for any self-possessed confident and proud gangster. Marko the Man Mountain twerks.
"What the hell!?! MAKE IT STOP!!!"

"Here I am missing all the fun? " Ripclaw awaits for runners in a half crouch behind a car, stretched out like a predatory giant cat ready to pounce, men seeking cover to fire back at the insanity at the club are met with vicious maulings. Fortunate for them Ripclaw isn't going for the kill.

"Twerkparty!" Lunair declares. "And hi!" She waves to Marko cheerily. "You TOTALLY did. And it'll stop when you cooperate I think." Lunair offers helpfully. "Hiya!" She greets Ripclaw cheerily. She likes the folks with her. But she doesn't comment on it. She's running crowd control, and the crowd? Is totally controlled. One mobster grinds a chair, while another rubs his butt on another who is about to cry.

The bunnies probably seem amused, and some mght even take the chance to duck out. "The twerking stops eventually. Maybe."

Ravager drops from the table when the mety fist rises for Lunair, a crouch befitting a dance… One leg tucked, the other outstretched as blades fly in a manner that strikes and has blood painting the floor in spatters.

Lunair is left with the mountain as a path is made to the entry, body bending between bullets in a motion that seems inhuman, a landing clasping fishnet thighs around a guards neck as her body lifts to rise overhead. The wig falling free now lays behind them as white hair shears across a prominent collarbone and her smile is a match to that of revealed costume…

….Just before the han snaps back and a chop to the temple makes the motion seem neck-breaking and yet his crumbleleaves him breathing despite the woman on mesh'd knees knelt above his head.

Ravager's mismatchd gaze snaps upward towards Ripclaw as the door guard she took rests in a land of sheep despite the Glock she has on his forehead. A click of safety and it is withdrawn but the work of jawline shows the restraint to not kill the man.

A twist of heel and she heads inward to the Twerk Fest! (tm)

"No stopping! We need information, boys." Take it as you will, cry as you might… There's a level of enjoyment here that's ALL WRONG.
Biometallic claws outstretched and elongated to extreme lengths they almost look like individual swords on each finger Ripclaw strides towards the Scale's Pool Lounge entryway where the door is opening, sparks scatter from tips as they tick along the ground and slice in a grind through the automobile parked outside.
These mobsters like a snake already lost their head in Frankies abduction now they simply writhe waiting for guidance under an impossible assault. Not only a level of violence that is supernatural and terrifying but a chaotic muse has filled the atmosphere.
Marko's teeth grit and he forces himself free of the twerking dance, whether it is a stubbornness, willpower or his Titan-like endurance the man breaks away from Lunair's enthrallment, "I'm going to kill all three of you." The remaining Filthy Franky gangsters not downed, fleeing or engaged in a DDR marathon turn towards the trio, moral rising with the Mountain's freedom.

The door open, Ripclaws grin splits his features past hair that has fallen forward, "Good, I thought I missed all the fun."
"Time to play, girls."

Fade to black amidst the sounds of gunshots, screams, snarls and well timed music.

"Yeah, the nudity ray is next." Lunair can dtotally dual wield. And Lunair's eyes wide as the fist comes her way. "Not a dancer— Yikes." Her eyes widen at Ravager's total SMITE. A wave to Ripclaw. But then, the mountain is breaking free. Time to be a little more serious. Portal gun! While he might get wedged in it instead of looping, it still buys time and hilarity.

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