Cracking Up

Characters: Clea Lexi Nemo The Hunter
Rated: Rating: PG
Summary: Tendril, the Hunter, and the mysterious Silver Mist clean up a stain on Mutant Town.
OOC Date: Fri Dec 29 21:30:42 2017
IC Date: Fri Dec 29 08:07 2017
Where: Mutant Town, NYC

The sun goes down in Mutanttown but rather than the place settling down for a nice rest a new population becomes active instead. These are not always the nicest folks… yes, some of them are just the stranger-looking mutants who prefer to stay out of 'polite society' but many of them are up to no good.

One set of these people have taken over a warehouse and made it their headquarters for their gang of strong-armed thugs. At first they were just mugging people passing through the area, then they branched out to robbery of stores and on to a protection racket. Now they've graduated to drugs. Tonight a shipment of crack has come in and now it's time to repackage it to go out again on the street.

The warehouse is in an old building, it's not really meant for the big trucks of today - the big doors are off an alley rather than the main street, but still a van or a small truck can get easily in or out. A bored man stands near a person-sized door, bundled up against the cold. Lights burn the in the fogged-up windows high up on the wall.

It's hardly a secret now that this new gang is causing issues for the average people of Mutant Town, and only getting worse as time goes on. But really, that just means it's more likely that the people who aren't quite so average in their capabilities have taken note. One is currently running from rooftop to rooftop in careful parkour, leapning easily between buildings with impressive distance as she lands on the warehouse, crouching down on all fours, her golden eyes glinting in the reflected light, before she prowls forwards on hands and feet until she can peer carefully over the side of the building at the lone guard, then glance back at the rooftop, looking for any way she might get in from up here. After all, she's a second story sort of girl…Tendril hasn't forgotten all of that quite yet from when she still was operating actively as a thief from the district.

Crime is crime, and it exists everywhere. The homeless population of Mutant Town would take little note of crime. Until it affects their community. Until the homeless have been harmed, beaten and strong-armed by thugs to get them clear of storefronts. Until homeless have been hooked on drugs they cannot afford unless they themselves then turn criminal to steal the money to feed their habit. Until defending their territory has resulted in the gang shooting up the streets, and the homeless along with them.

Once the homeless were affected, it was only a matter of time.

The Hunter is coming.

In an act of pure intimidation, Hunter strolls down the street in the open, beneath the lights. She hides nothing. Just a homeless vet strolling the street right towards that warehouse. She doesn't weave or wobble, doesn't divert, doesn't glance around. She just walks straight towards them with a measured step, like a sheriff in an old Western, except she's never seen one of those in her life.

There's another figure watching as well, a form standing in the shadows on a rooftop nearby, watching the warehouse. It's dressed in an immaculate dark charcoal suit, a vintage cut, a long trenchcoat, a matching hat with a dark blue band and a face covered with a long white silken scarf that trails behind it.

Tendril can see roof access, just a hatch with perhaps a ladder going down, thoug h there are good-sized windows. From above it seems likely that there's a warehouse section and an office area as the windows on the former are more functional than the latter, which seem more meant to provide a bit of a view.

Below, the man perks up when he sees the homeless woman coming towards him. "Whatchoo want?" he asks, sticking his hand deeper into his coat. "Get outta here, y'know what's good for you."

Lexi starts mentally making plans as she considers. Roof access will be simpler. Tendrils to move down to avoid too much noise from the ladder, which probably won't be in great shape. Should be on the catwalks above. Provided they aren't smart and don't have guards on the catwalks eveywhere, should be able to slip….oh crap, is that Hunter?!?
The mauve mutant glances around for some way to alert her friend that she's up on the rooft, but there isn't an easy way to do that when she's so close to the outer guard. Of all the times that she doesn't have telepathy! Her eyes do flick over the figure across the way, as she stills. She has better nightvision than most, so she can pick out the outline of the trenchcoated person….a vigilante, maybe? She's not familiar with one who costumes like that…

Hunter knows where others are; she can hear their breathing; she can smell them. She doesn't speak. She doesn't look away. She doesn't flinch. She keeps marching along towards the guard without hesitation and with no sign of fear, just waiting for him to get stupid enough to draw.

The moment he does, that smooth amble becomes a blurringly rapid dash with instinctively automatic and swift action as hands seize weapon and arn and twist until the arm shatters and the weapon comes free …

… into Hunter's hand.

It won't be silent. Swift as Hunter is, she has no intention of silencing the man before he cries out. But afterwards, she then drives a sharp ridged hand into his throat and leaves him to gasp like a fish on land. Then she hauls back and kicks at the door with tons of force, fully intent on kicking the thing clean off the hinges if she can.

Assuming the door isn't somehow reinforced to some ridiculous degree, Hunter follows it with gun in hand, strolling in with the rumbling report of explosions as rounds are thrown down-range at the gang members. Her movements are cold and calm, with no apparent concern whatsoever for her own safety, just deliberate, smooth, efficient death-dealing while she wades into the chaos she unleashes like it will simply run off her like rain off a duck's back.

As suggested by the windows, the inside of the building is divided into a good-sized garage or warehouse area, room enough for several vans and a considerable amount of various stuff on one side and office space on the other. In the main area tonight there are several long tables, a box on each. Several people are working there, all are wearing filter masks and long plastic gloves as they fill tiny plastic bags with chips of something they weigh before they do. They then tie them shut and set them aside, where another person comes by now and then to collect the completed piles. They all snap to look at the door as a shout and a cry of anguished pain comes from ouside and the door crashes open. Bullets fly and they hit the deck. A pair of thugs are only surprised for a moment before they bring their Chinese AK-copies to bear and open up on the homeless woman.

Lexi is inside easily as Hunter bursts in. There's really nothing on the catwalks, but it should be easy enough to drop down on the firing guards' heads if she wishes.

Meanwhile, behind the Hunter a heavy thump as someone land solidly on the ground, rapid footsteps to follow the other woman into the building.

Lexi swears as she hears the weapons fire. Right. So she just needs to cover her, and since there's no one up here WITH her…she promptly moves with catlike quiet to a position above the two with the AKs, extending a pair of tendrils from her back and one from either arm as she leans over, bracing. Then flicks them out expertly, so they wind around the and slam them hard into each other, before dropping them and trying to snatch up the rifles. Heavy weapons first….she's pretty damn sure Hunter can handle unarmed people.

The homeless woman doesn't even flinch, gliding smoothly stride for stride into the warehouse. Men lift guns, and the pistol she took possession of barks, loosing a bullet at each aimed at center mass with lethal precision, followed by shots at their heads should they not drop promptly; they could be wearing body armor, after all.

Hunter doesn't hesitate, but keeps moving, striding through with calm, cold efficiency and a sort of cold, lethal grace. Bullets fired slam into her body, blood sprays, she may even stagger … and then she rights herself and keeps firing, not hesitating to make every shot a headshot with seemingly unnatural precision.

The one thing Hunter cannot defend against? Dust. Specifically cocaine dust. When her super sniffer gets a solid whiff of that stuff, everything goes caca sideways inside her skull. Nothing is right, and so nothing is coming out right either. It won't really hit her until she's almost in the middle of the huge room. But when it does … that's it. Most of her effectiveness is done.

The well-armed men go down as they're double-teamed - slammed together by Lexi's tendrils and then hit by the Hunter's bullets. Luckily (for them) Tendril has pulled them off-center enough that the gunfire isn't deadly. Still, they're out. The workers have no interest in fighting things out with a psychopathic homeless woman who seems willing to take bullets of her own and beat a quick retreat only to come upon the well-dressed trenccoated figure who is standing just on the warehouse side of the door. This person grabs one of the workers as they try t to go past, they casually punch the worker in the face and said worker goes down in a heap, but the others flee into the night and the white-scarfed figure seems uninterested in following them.

The tendrils sliding around the two rifles split, shifting until the guns are tipping the long tentacles, split at the tip around the grip at the back where the tip can squeeze the trigger, then held at the ready in case they're needed for covering fire. "Got 'em!" she calls down to Hunter, then blinks at the other person walking in. Okay, probably Vigilante? Maybe? She hopes.

Speaking of hopes, she starts sprinting to the office area, figuring that's probably where any other people with lots of guns probably are. If she can quietly land on teh roof, she'll do that and look for a way in, or prepare to swing down through a window as needed.

Hunter gazes, dazedly, towards motes of dust floating beneath the lights in the main section, utterly distracted. Then she twitches, startles looking wildly and erratically in every direction seemingly at once. Then suddenly she just takes off, streaking out of the building by diving right through a window and then running down the street out of control.

Tiger lady on crack. Bad, bad idea.

Tendril's quick raid of the office area turns up a good bit - a few more rifles, a pistol or two, plenty of rounds and a small fortune in cash… but no people. The rats seem to have fled the sinking ship as soon as the shooting started. The outside door left hanging open suggests that to have been the case. Mostly the two office rooms were used as sleeping quarters and the little kitchenette microwaved a few burritos.

The figure in the coat was about to speak to the Hunter when the latter suddenly fled, startng to run amok. "This seems unfortunate." the figure says, forgetting to use her now well-practiced vigilante voice. "Bother." she complains, then crouches to take the phone of the falledn worker. She dials 911 and speaks when the time comes, but this time pitching her voice low. "Yes. I am a very bad person and I am selling drugs. Some heroes came and broke up my operation, at 5190 Pierce Street. You should come arrest us now." and she hangs up. Yes, it's a strange call, but at least someone might well investigate. The phone is dropped on the worker's chest and the figure moves for the door, possibly intending to follow after the Hunter.

Lexi hmms, then takes a moment to snag an available duffle bag and stuff the cash in question into it, before zipping it up. And leaving the AKs, of course, in the office. Though she uses one to bar the door, just to make sure no one gets inside to arm themselves before the police get here. Of course, then she hears the crash of the window and looks up just in time to see Hunter taking off outside, followed by the mysterious figure. "…dammit." she mutters, slinging the duffle so the strap rests across her chest between her breats, then pulls herself up, making for the roof again as quickly as she can to get a view on what's going on with Hunter, and pursuing her as she parkours across the rooftops. Yes. Drugged out tigger is prooooobably not a good thing, as Hunter or tiger.

Hunter is … coked up. Nuts. Insane. She's running at literally unhuman speeds, with breakneck agility and ferocious intensity … and absolutely no rational thought, control, or even directed instinct. Just wild, chaotic psychosis given physical form.

"Well. _This_ spoils my plans." the Silver Mist says, though that hardly seems the important thing at this point. She makes a motion with a hand and the suit and coat evaporate to reveal a tallish woman with shockingly blonde hair dressed in an imperial purple tunic and black leggings with various white ripple circles printed there. "I think we shall have to call in help." and she does, drawing out her own cell phone. She begins to dial as she begins to drift off the ground, following the probably not-difficult-to-follow trail of a coked-up superwoman.

It's not terribly difficult to follow Hunter's path of travel, but she doesn't exactly leave a glowing trail. Nevertheless, she's not trying to hide, she's bouncing off walls and zooming out in the open and then giving full-throated almost-roars as she zigzags and sproings all over the streets. It's psychotic.

Clea chatters into her phone and then tucks that away. "Ah, hello." she says to the mauve lady skittering down the wall. "I am Clea. Yes, I'm familiar with the lady. I think perhaps we should find her as soon as possible. Something seems terribly wrong with her. Besides, the police will be here soon." If she notices the bag full of money she doesn't seem to care.

"I'm guessin' she inhaled some of the dust from th' bags that took a bullet or two from those guys with th' assault rifles.." Lexi says with a frown. "It really isn't good for her, I'm guessin'…for her control, I mean.." She nods to Clea. "Nice ta meetcha though. I'm gonna sprint ta try an' catch up, if you can fly fast enough, k?" And she breaks into a sprint after the path of bouncy tiggery mayhem left in Okhotnik's wake…

The biggest problem, as likely both women are somewhat aware, is that with these stimulants in Hunter's system, her body is hyeractive, and that's a terrible thing for a woman constantly running the razor's edge of control with an incredibly powerful beast barely leashed inside her. As they give chase, they will eventually find exactly what both are fearing: bits and scraps of clothing left behind, including an abandoned belt-mount holster and sheath for a lethal hand canon and a matte black combat knife.

It would seem Hunter is no longer Hunter, and no longer bothering with only two feet when all four will do.

Clea does follow quickly after Tendril. "I've called in some more help, hopefully. They should be trying to subdue her if they find her." she says. "Hmm. I think we shall be looking for a tiger rather than a woman."

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