Rise Of The Marvels (IC Thread)

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Camleen

Camleen

I'm going to be my own kind of princess
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In no particular order: Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Modern, Magical, Romance, anime, comic books, cartoons, video games..
Somewhere in the north/eastern hemisphere of our world…
Sometime in the not so distant past..

(Translated from the German)
"My friends.. my devoted revolutionaries… fighters for a new world! For to long have we slipped amongst the shadows, for to long has our cause been repressed! This day.. it is the dawn of a new era! An era of hope and peace.. one where those that would stand against us will be crushed like so much snow under boot!" cheers resonate in the large hangar.. masses of large flying machines and land attack vehicles in the background. Assembled are hundreds of men and women, all wearing identical uniforms. Save for the 6 people upon the stage, holding the attention of the rest of the crowd. The one speaking, dressed in a shades of purple, looks out at the crowd of soldiers.. proud of what they have been able to build here.
"We have a secret weapon now.. one the world knows nothing of. And it is with this weapon we shall prove our might, our will to have this world be as one! And a weapon that will help us to crush our enemies!" The crowd cheers again, and the speaker pauses, taking it all in. After a few moments he raises his hand, and the crowd silences almost immediately before he speaks. "As your Supreme Hydra, I pledge to you victory! We shall make our world a better one, whether they want it or not!" he shouts the last part, and the crowd begins cheering and chanting. "Hail Hydra!" "Hail Zemo!" The speaker.. one Baron Helmut Zemo, grins widely under his mask. He reaches to the small end-table at his side, scooping up his glass of Pavillon Rouge Chateau Margaux red wine, lifting it in toast to the chants.



Advance the clock a few years.. to the modern day.
This particular day started as most do… the news channels bitching about this politician or that politician, local news doing the weather and traffic, cable channels showing the same movies over and over… a normal day for everyone.

Thursday. 9:58AM EST
All around the world, small groups of like minded men and women make their move. Despite the fact they are separated by thousands upon thousands of miles, they work as a unit. This plan has been in the works for close to a decade. They were all able to slip under the radar of the local authorities, of the governments of these regions.. and of S.H.I.E.L.D. They are all excited and scared.. all of them knowing these will be their last moments on Earth. But after today.. the world will begin to become a better place for all on it.

Thursday. 9:59AM EST.
6 teams. 6 targets. At each of the locations.. sudden chaos erupts. It happens nearly the same way at every location. The 'liberation fighters' make their move. The security of each location is quick to act.. but is severely outclassed and outgunned. At each location 3-4 of the security forces are dead. Quickly following behind each group is an automaton, a robot moving swiftly on wheels. It's large, almost as tall as the average man. And it's only purpose is the death and destruction of everything around it.

Thursday. 10:00AM EST, 10:00AM EST
Location: New York, New York. Liberty Island.
The New York Harbor.. ferries move through the water, carrying their cargo of passengers to and from Liberty Island and Ellis Island. All wanting a glimpse of one of the most iconic statues in history. Lady Liberty, as she is called. Looking out across the water, ready to welcome those newly arrived to the city. But on this day.. a new kind of watercraft appears. A submergible rises from the depths right on the shore of Liberty Island. The moment it breaks the surface, helicopters are in the air. Hatches on the top of the black and purple colored submergible swing open, turrets emerging from them. They begin fire on Liberty Island itself, killing many of the security and tourists in the line of fire. And from one of the newly opened hatches, a white robot emerges, racing towards the base of the statue. One of the security officers tries to shoot it, but with little effect. The robot reaches the base.. and it then detonates itself.

Thursday. 10:00AM EST, 3:00PM CET
Location: Rome, Italy. The Colosseum.
The group and their robot are able to break through the security perimeter set up hastily. And they are through rather easily. The robot follows its programming and winds its way along the ancient corridors of the Colosseum, corridors that now serve as walkways for tourists. It actually bursts through 3 of the walls, to make its way to the arena. An there.. it detonates itself.

Thursday. 10:00AM EST, 4:00PM EET
Location: Al Haram, Nazlet El-Semman, Al Haram, Giza Governorate, Egypt. The Great Pyramid of Giza.
A scene similar to the others.. the assaulting group almost seems to come out of nowhere. As if they were invisible to the eyes and electronics used by security forces. The assault force breaks through the security forces, killing more than 1 of them in the process. But the assault group is cut thin also, some of the security forces seeming to have better training. But they can't stop the white robot that hurries through the defenses. It injures tourists as it moves passed them.. running them down or knocking them over. It's a heavy machine, and moves with incredible speed and momentum. It gets into the Robber's Tunnel and moves for another 30 seconds.. and then destroys itself as it explodes.

Thursday. 10:00AM EST, 10:00PM CST
Location: Xizang Zizhiqu, China. The Potala Palace.
Considering the sloping walls of the Palace, it would be more than difficult to raid it like most of the other targets. By vehicle, and then by foot. For this target, they had to use a different tactic. A sleek black and purple colored jet seems to just.. appear.. in the Chinese airspace. Without warning it plummets towards the Earth, clearly having no intention of pulling itself up. At the last few moments tourists notice the jet.. coming down right on top of them. It topples into the Palace and explodes in a burst of blue energy.

Thursday. 10:00AM EST, 6:00PM GST
Location: Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates. The Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque.
A grand palace, seen as a key site for worship in the United Arab Emirates. It serves as a place for worship (as stated), but also Islamic knowledge. It has some books that are more than 200 years old. But it is one of the six targets.. and so right at the top of the hour.. a small group of green clad men and women appear, and they begin killing worshippers and scholars alike. Whomever might be in their path. A white robot rolls behind them at a quick pace…and once they are fairly deep within the majestic structure.. there is a massive explosion.

Thursday. 10:06AM EST
The news of the day changes focus. All news networks and outlets are now focused on the same subject. The horrific terror attacks carried out only a few minutes ago. Dozens of images and video now run on the networks, showing the horrors.

"Live footage from New York Harbor… the Statue of Liberty, the most recognized icons of freedom, has toppled.. you can see here—"
"—just some of the images from China, where one of its greatest landmarks has been destroyed. A group has already claimed responsibility—"
"—dozens dead, hundreds injured in this apparent suicide attack. Here you can see stills of the group approaching the Colosseum, and running into it then. At this point, there was an explosion—"
"Tragic news right now.. there have been 9 attacks on major landmarks around the world, all happening at once in an apparent methodical terrorist attack. There are thousands dead, and even more missing. We take you now to—"
"—prayers to those victims and their families. A recap.. attacks on major landmarks in Egypt, the United Arab Emirate, China, Italy and right here in New York City. The Statue of Liberty now lays on her side on Liberty Island, most of her now submerged at the shore. Trish Tilby is near the harbor, and describes for us the scene of what can only be described as.. horror.."
"—ust received this broadcast from an unknown source. We are attempting to verify it's validity.. we will play it for you now.."

The recording starts as a black screen, and then men and woman, a dozen in total clad in shades of green stand before the camera. The one in the front of the group speaks, his words in German with subtitles under.
"The attacks on these 6 monuments to man's ego and false sense of religion have been carried out by the eternal freedom force of Hydra. It is our intent to show you that you can not hope to stand between us and our goal of a better world for all of us. Should any governments or organizations attempt to impede our grand progress, you will be eliminated. Allow us to help the world and you will be part of the grand new order. We hope this minor display of our power, of our ability and will, is enough to show you we intend nothing less than victory over the tyranny of democracy. No longer will only the rich and privileged be allowed the best life has to offer. Our world is total, and we will rule over it fairly. Hail Hydra!"

"…no.. no response yet from the White House. But the president has sent his condolences to all 6 nations that have been attacked this morning. The President went on to firmly condemn these attacks. As some may remember.. Hydra was one of the premiere powers—"

All Hail Hydra!
 
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Al's Cafe, 10:07 AM

Ronald had situated himself in the corner of a street cafe, one that he frequented almost every day before the shift started. Today was to be another day for him after a spell of coffee took its course through his system. All of that changed however the moment he heard the television cut through the daily din that surrounded him, catching his attention just in time for him to watch the helicopter's bird's eye view of the destruction that had taken place just moments ago. At first he didn't believe it like everyone else that sat around him, his now widened eyes now fixated on the television as it described the carnage that had occurred moments ago. Everyone was silent, the entire room was almost shocked, but then a cellphone sliced through the fragile, uneasy serenity; Ronald's cellphone.

The notification tone startled the officer before he frantically rummaged through his pockets so to check his phone. It wasn't a call, but a text notification, one that came from one of his cop buddies at the station. He wasn't the only one receiving this text.

555-713-7201 (10:13 AM): WC wants us at the station. Get your gear together shift is starting an hour early.

He didn't need to even finish reading the text, the officer was already grabbing his duffel and sprinting out the door. If it weren't for the NYPD logo that was sewn onto the bad, someone might've thought the cop was trying to the rob the place with how fast he was rushing outside.

Precinct 6th Department, 10:29 AM

Even with such late notice almost everyone on Ronald's watch was present, all in uniform and ready for the job even though some looked like they could have used that extra hour to rest up before the shift. Upon gearing up and entering the meeting room Ronald stationed up at his usual corner, his eyes on a man that bore the Sergeant Insignia on his sleeve that was reading over his notes.

"Alright listen up, gentlemen. If you haven't been living under a rock you'll know that there was an attack that had occurred about an hour ago at the Statue of Liberty. Now before you go asking me any questions understand that the numbers are still coming in and yes the body count is still rising at this time. ESU is taking primary on that call so we wont be having to head that way for the time being but the mayor is very much on our asses to do our jobs. That being said we have been authorized overtime, be ready for the long shifts... Anyways, if another incident occurs we are looking at a possible tactical alert-" Immediately there were a variety of reactions, some of them being fear and concern, others being agitation as the men in blue began whispering among each other. The sergeant was quick to continue before any bad thoughts settled, and silence returned as he continued the briefing. "A Possible tactical alert, not meaning we are 100% sure that that is going to happen. Just be ready. Alright uuh Carter and Jason you are A20, Ramone and Oliver you are A32." The car assignments kept rolling in and Ronald got his usual unit number. Following their assignments the sergeant concluded the briefing, and everyone was dismissed to go do their jobs. It was strange how things could blow by quickly, but being a cop you had a job to still do, and people were counting on you.

Hudson Bay, New York, 12:00 PM


After an hour's drive from the station the daily drag had begun. While waiting for a call or a bit of excitement Ronald had parked in one of the many alley ways of New York City, taking the opportunity to stretch his legs as he leaned back against the front push bar of his Ford Crown Victoria, the classical cop car. It seemed as if current events had slowed the city down just a bit, giving the NYPD officer the luxury to take in the sights of such a beautifully ugly city. The 6th precinct wasn't the down town area, nor was it up town. It was a mixture of everything, even on the streets he stood one he could see a lively, peaceful cafe on one side of the street, and New York's 'finest' set of citizenry on the other side. Even then, he watched both sides, but he as sure to set up on the cafe side. It was easier to get drinks that way.
 
Charles Xavier, Westchester, New York

That morning..

Like many tales, this one starts out innocently enough. 'It started like any other day' is the old adage. And it was the same here. Even for the world's most powerful telepath. Charles Xavier awoke before the sun came up, as he always does. Sleep, sometimes, is not an easy thing for him to come by. But he makes due, he always has. He pulled himself out of bed, got his shower, got dressed. All of this taking of course longer than it would for someone else. Without the use of his legs, even getting around his own bedroom can create a hassle. But again… he makes due. He always has.

Breakfast is an English muffin, 3 eggs (scrambled and slightly browned) and of course tea. Earl grey, hot. He then goes over some of the plans and blueprints for the additions he would like to eventually make to his 'school', this institute he is trying to get up and going. His dream.. a safe haven for mutants. But it will be more than that, he hopes.

Mid morning comes, and he finds himself in his office. He hasn't seen anyone else yet this morning. He could easily find out where they are.. but there's no need for that. They aren't his children, he doesn't want to dote upon them. The television is on in the background of his office, and he is reading an old book. 'The Republic', by Plato. His bookmark is about in the middle of the rather lengthy book. He has promised himself to finish it one day, but he always seems to get interrupted or sidetracked.

Today is no different.

The first reports come onto his television of the attacks. Charles looks towards the television, his eyes only lifting to it, his finger placed on the last word he had read in his book. His thin brows furrow as he now sits up in his wheelchair, the whole of his attention going to the television. To the reports of the attacks around the world. A soft sigh escapes his lips as now he closes the book with a soft 'thud', and he reaches into his pocket. All at once he receives 7 texts from… various.. individuals, giving him updates and warnings. He scrolls through them deftly, his attention going from the phone to the television.

There are events that can shape generations. Pearl Harbor. 9/11. The Battle of France. The Beslan Massacre. The assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. The assignation of John F. Kennedy. Oklahoma City. Charles wonders to himself if he is once more witnessing such an event, right here before his eyes.
He has seen to many.

Charles listens to the Hydra released video, the one where they take responsibility. "Hydra." He says softly. During the Second World War, he had heard whispers of a fanatical Nazi faction. Hydra.. but he was to young to really know the scope of what was being said, what was being rumored. He knows the legendary Captain America had a hand in their dismantling, but again these are just stories. Captain America.. someone Charles has always admired.

His tangent thoughts of war and rumors are drawn to a close as his focus once more shifts to the television. Horrific images of the destruction.. of the death… and a few times during the new broadcast the word 'mutant' is used. How horrid it would be if mutants are put to blame for having anything to do with these attacks. It could mean catastrophe. He wheels his chair from behind his desk, his eyes not leaving the television. He stops just to the side of his desk.. and his eyes close a little as he reaches out with his will. He didn't want to earlier, but things are different now, and he is able to locate 2 of the mutants residing within these walls. They would hear whispered echoes in their minds, his voice there.

~Logan.. Pietro… please come to my office. We have.. things.. to discuss..~

He tries to keep the worry and.. well anger.. out of his telepathic message. But he's not sure how well that went.
 
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Run Down Apartment 10:30 AM

While not the greatest of homes to be living in. This 'apartment' served its purpose well. He was in the midst of cleaning his Uncle's revolver when he heard about the attacks on the radio. Along with the transmission from Hydra. 'Unity. Ruling fairly. Last time I heard a speech similar to this one. It was from a newspaper talking about this political figure over in Germany.' He thought to himself. Loading the revolver and putting it in a holster. Before laying that on the nightstand.

He was sad to hear about what had happened to those innocent people. But, he knew better than mope around instead of doing something about it. And knowing this city. Someone knew. He just needed to know where to dig. Unfortunately, it was dark out. Typically, goons and other crooks would be out and about under the presumed safety of darkness. So, he was going to need to kill time. Maybe the bookstore needed an assistant for the day. Grabbing his gear and 'clothes.' Putting them into a duffle-bag that he carried with him when not 'working.'

He left the apartment and made his way to the bookstore. Walking in, the owner. A kind, elderly German man greeted him. Peter gave a nod before going behind the counter and getting ready for any customers.
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The Institute

If there was one thing that incredibly boring. It had to be when there was nothing to do. He had run around the school hundreds of times, read most of the books in the study. And even did the chores placed for him as a result of what some would call a "Super speed whip cream on the seat of motorcycle prank." Something Logan did not laugh at. But, those can only last for so long. Eventually, he heard the Professor's voice in his head. Asking him to go to him immediately. The way that Xavier sounded kinda worried Pietro. So much so, that Pietro speed walked to the office. Well, more like Pietro fast speed walk.

Within seconds, he was at Xavier's office. Taking extreme care to not break the door when he opened and closed it in his super speed. "Everything alright, X?" He said.
 
Hudson Bay, New York
The 'request' had come in the early morning hours, around 2AM or so. The.. client.. specifically asked for her. He has before. She has special talents, ones unique to her, that he wanted to make use of. It was around 5AM when the young girl met the man at the run down hotel, the one she did business out of. The client arrived about a half hour after she did. Went to the same room he always did. And business commenced.

8AM or so now… the man starts to get dressed. And the girl.. she sits up in bed, holding the blanket around herself as she stares out the window. "That was great, baby." His voice is an absent tone, no real emotion or anything showing interest there. "Really great." He stands and pulls his moneyclip from his pocket. "Girl like you'll go far in this city. Same as always?" Her crystal green eyes turn to him, but she doesn't respond. He shrugs a little and pulls some cash free of the clip, tossing it onto the bed. "Not easy finding a girl with your talents. I'll admit.." he winces now as he pulls his shirt on, the crisscrossing of cuts along his back still sore.

"You're the best at what you do."

She isn't sure just how long she sat there in the old, smelly and stain-ridden bed. Just staring blankly out of the window. Her mind not in the present.. because she doesn't want to be in the present. She often wonders how it came to this.. how she ended up here. She left San Francisco in an attempt to escape the eyes of the Facility. Of.. her. She had to let things go in San Francisco, she didn't have a choice. From her time in San Francisco till now, she hopes the sacrifices she has made will be worth it in the end.

She wanted to keep herself hidden from the Facility. New York seemed a good place.. a city this big, anyone can lose themselves. But to keep herself hidden even better, she went to one of the seedier parts of the city. After almost a month of living there by herself, she found herself lost once more. And so.. she fell back into her old routines. Being used by others. A pretty young girl by herself in a bad part of one of the world's biggest cities? The predators come out. A man approached her and promised to keep her safe in the city, give her a place to be. Give her a good job. He's a pimp. Nothing more. But one of the more powerful ones in this part of the city. And so the girl had found someone to command her (just as it has been literally her whole life) and she had a mission (just as it has been literally her whole life). Not exactly the kind of command and the kind of missions she's used to.. but with the lack of knowing what else to do.. this routine felt right. For the time.

And now.. she finds herself locked in a loop. With no way out. At least she doesn't see a way out. Not for herself.

Her attention is brought out from her errant thoughts as the sides of multiple sirens race somewhere in the city. Her half open eyes move a little, scanning the area she can see outside of the dirty window. There's some kind of emergency somewhere… her enhanced hearing is picking up all sorts of commotion in the distance. Not the usual New York commotion.. something more. But she won't be bothered by it. Not today.

Around midday the girl finally emerges from the run down hotel.. one that is known for being used by prostitutes and junkies… and she kind of shuffles out the door, holding her jacket closed tight around her. The chill of the air brushes against her mostly bare legs, her half open eyes scanning the area around her. She tucks the wad of money into her jacket's pocket.. and she sniffs faintly at the air. Nothing out of the ordinary. Not for this area. Discretely she looks left to right, taking in everything around her. Some of her fellow… employees… congregate near the diner not far from the hotel. And as this dark haired girl stands in front of the hotel, they make note of her. One of the pulls a phone from her hip and makes a call. The young girl usually doesn't call to say she is ready to be picked up.. in fact it's rare for her to say more than 2 words to anyone. She just goes with what she is commanded to do (as it has been all of her life). She starts down the sidewalk, knowing she has to drop off the money to 'Daddy' as he likes his girls to call him. And as she kind of shuffles down the street.. she takes note of someone she hasn't seen before here. No.. no that's not true. She recognizes his scent.. he has been here before… even with all of the scents and awful smells of this city, she's still able to pick apart scents easily and catalogues them in her mind. She watches Ronald out of the corner of her eyes as she walks.. he doesn't belong here. Not really. He's to clean. A cop, maybe. But if that's true.. she doesn't really have anything to worry about. 'Daddy' has A LOT of cops on his own payroll. What can he possibly do?

Besides save her.
 
Xavier Institute, New York
4:30 am​

Sleep was elusive that night.

Correction: every damn night. The same tempest of memories under the guise of dreams hounded him each night, and so mired were they in the depths of his psyche, so tightly wound, that the telepath who'd taken him in had yet to make any progress. So much time under stress had that effect, the professor had said. It was to be expected. Bits and pieces had been unraveled, but they offered no insight to his past. For all intents and purposes, he had never been anyone else but Logan.

Early morning saw Logan awake in a rage with the taunting growls of Creed doing their rounds in his skull. Logan stormed the halls until the fury receded, knuckles stained an angry red.

Before the clock struck five, he had already taken off down the road on a frenzy like a man possessed. The roar of his motorcycle's engine chugged from old age, but she held together. And off he was. Away from the creaking of the Institute's aging infrastructure. Away from the birdsong. The engine's grumbling and an empty mind was all he needed, and with time, the anger would fade.

It wasn't long before he returned. It was not a home, or a clubhouse, or even a place of respite. Yet for what reason, he kept returning. The telepath would call Logan in to his office for another session as he always did, and nothing would change. A routine he'd gone soft for.

The rumbling of the motorcycle died out as it entered the garage. Logan kicked the stand and entered the manor through the back, passing through the kitchen to grab something to satisfy the growl in his gut, when Xavier's voice droned in his head. He paused in the kitchen doorway to make sure the voice wasn't another figment, but the concern that rang clearly through the mental call was enough verification.

But the man could wait. After snatching an apple off the table, Logan roamed the halls at a leisurely pace until he came upon the Professor's office. The little whirlwind from hell was already in there, judging by the skid marks in the floor, so Logan knocked on the door and didn't wait for an answer before entering.

He took a bite, leaned back with his arms crossed, and fixed Charles with a good, long stare.

"Chair need a new battery, Chuck?"
 
Charles Xavier, Westchester, New York

Charles continues to watch the television, his brows furrowed with worry. Why would Hydra choose to attack now? Have they been out there this whole time.. merely sleeping? Why now? Why this moment? What has changed the status quo that made them think now was a time to attack? To reassert themselves onto the global stage. He looks over his shoulder to his desk, and leans towards it to grasp the remote control for the television. He turns to a different cable news network, and sets the remote down gently as he watches. How horrid this all is…

He doesn't look to Pietro as he enters, his focus still on the television. He senses Logan is on his way.. but taking his time. Of course. Charles can sense the frustration radiating off of Logan, even if he doesn't let on in that regard. Logan's frustrations are understandable.. and he wishes he could do more. But if he did try to 'do more'… it may end up doing more harm then good. Finally Charles glances towards Pietro, and he smiles softly. He is about to reprimand him for that nickname.. but he lets it go for now. He motions to the television, images now of men digging in marble rubble and pulling bodies out desperately. "There has been an attack, son."

Logan then saunters in, and Charles looks to him. "Welcome back, Logan." Perhaps referring to his early morning jaunt. "The battery is fine, thank you my friend." He motions to the television as he continues. "There have been terrorist attacks throughout the world.. reports are coming in from all over. It seems on nearly every continent.." his words are calm, calculated. His right hand eases forward on the arm of his chair, his fingertips moving the small handle there. His chair turns slowly, and he starts towards behind his desk once more. "I've received word that Shield has dispatched multiple teams to help investigate, and to help with the cleanup. While I have faith the general public will not jump to undo conclusions.." he now turns to face the two of them from behind his desk. "The word 'mutant' was mentioned no less than 3 times in the news reports I have been watching. I fear this could be disastrous for mutant relations if it escalates." He remembers the attacks on innocent Muslims after September 11th​.. and he fears this could be the same. "Would either of you like to offer opinions as to how we should handle this?" One of his thin brows perk up as he looks between them calmly.
 
As time passed Ronald's gaze slowly swept over the faces that walked through his field of view, doing his best to study each person with his cop eyes while picking out hints that proved their innocence or their guilt. One could say a cop could be compared to an artist, focusing in on the details rather than the big picture. The only difference was his life and pension could be on the line if the wrong call was made. Minutes crept by, but to officer Baker it felt as if every minute was an hour of watching, hoping some stroke of luck could bring in a lead to follow.

At first he didn't get anything, just the usual passerby mixed with some of the local thuggery in the area. There was nothing for a cop to do, little did Ronald know that fate laid out a path for him to follow. It came in the form of a girl, one who was dressed to expose with only a jacket to protect her from the weathers. When he caught sight of her he did it just in time to catch a glimpse of not only her face, but her hopelessness. Obviously she could catch him looking dead at her with his arms crossed and his eyes now following her. He was at conflict. On one side she had made her choices, and he couldn't chase every prostitute down to either jail them or save them. On the other hand...

Soon the officer pushed off the push bar of his car and quickly stepped around to snatch his hat off the dashboard so to put it on before he started crossing the street, taking every precaution to look left or right while raising his respective hand towards the oncoming traffic to stop whoever was going to potentially hit him. He was heading straight for her at a brisk pace, hopefully before she could reach her destination.

"Hey. Miss? Hold up miss." He said with a raised voice, hoping to catch her attention as he approached this girl from behind. If that didn't work, he was sure to add something that would make it work. "Ya know finding someone like you in this area gives me probable cause to search you." Even while he addressed this woman he had come in contact with the officer was looking around, waiting to see if this girl's potential employer would give him/herself away by looking at the cop who stopped their potential income.

@Camleen
 
She bundles her hands moreso into the pockets of the jacket she wears. A jacket that is really to light for this kind of weather. It's not that it's overly cold this day.. but it isn't much of a warm jacket in the least. But it was cheap, and so that's why it was given to her. In all reality the cold doesn't bother her.. she has slept while being slowly covered in snow before. But perhaps it is just the gesture of wanting to be warm that makes her pull the coat a little tighter around her slim and muscular form.

Her eyes are cast down as she proceeds down the street, just watching the sidewalk in front of her with each step. She gets a few looks from the people she passes.. most of them knowing what she is.. rather, what her profession is. This place wreaks.. she thinks that every single time she walks down this street. Which has become at least twice a day now. Her orders… her mission… go to the hotel, wait for the 'client', make the client happy, collect pay, return to the extraction point, hand over appropriated funds to Zebra Daddy. The same thing every time, every day, often more than once a day.

And as she walks, she gives a discrete glance in Ronald's direction as he seems to suddenly be on the move. A scowl finds its way onto her painted lips as she walks, her eyes once more returning to the sidewalk in front of her feet. She sniffs faintly at the air to track Ronald… he's closing in on her. Fuck. If he's a potential client, she'll have to hassle with introducing him to Zebra Daddy, or one of his 'boys'. His generals, one would say. At least that's how the assassin minded X-23 sees it. Another faint sniff as now Ronald calls out to her.

"Hey. Miss? Hold up miss."

Fuck.

Her eyes lift a little as she continues to walk, seeming to ignore him. Which is exactly what she's trying to do. He's acting to dumb to be a potential client. He would be discrete.. not running across the road to get to her. But for a moment her eyes hone in on the other set of scents that she comes across. Up the street almost a block, at the corner, a gunmetal grey colored Chrysler 300 comes to a stop, the tinted windows rolled up. Her 'ride' as it were.

"Ya know finding someone like you in this area gives me probably cause to search you."

Fuck.

She knows she is now being watched by her employer's representatives in that car. She knows the dope trying to get her attention is being watched. She stops and half turns towards Ronald, watching him out of the corner of her eyes. "Go away." She says simply, and she then turns and continues down the block. Now taken out of context of what's going on in her head.. that would seem rather rude. And taken out of that context those 2 little words could be interpreted as a hooker telling a cop to go to hell. But that's really not her intention.. her only intention is his safety. She has seen these men beat others for much less. And as if on cue, the car door starts to open. "Go away now" she says, glancing over her shoulder towards Ronald, long black locks partially concealing her eyes.

Out of the car steps a sizable man, perhaps 6'4" and he seems to be made of mostly muscle. He smiles kindly towards the girl, his eyes watching her and the man following her. "C'mon sis, daddy wants you home. It's almost time for lunch!" his tone is a pleasant one, that wide smile not leaving his lips.

She knows this man only as Clown. Because he's able to put on a good face when there's trouble.. and always has a joke or something up his sleeve. As well as a gun. Well… a Hi-Point Model JCP .40 caliber semi-automatic. No one told her what kind of gun it was, she only needed to see it for a moment to identify it. Because when one goes on missions, you tend to want to get acquainted with things people will try to end you with. So she knows guns. She watches 'Clown' for a moment, and then her eyes cast down again as she walks. She's still almost ¾ of a block to the car.. but she has a feeling the dope behind her will try to get her attention…or stop her..
 
Lancaster, Pennsylvania: The heart of Amish Country
The sun was slowly setting over the farmlands in the Amish Country. In a single barn, there was a lantern burning with a farmer making a repair to an axel on his wagon. Holding up the wagon on one side was Steve Rogers, the man who was once known as Captain America, who looked to be straining while he was holding up the wagon.

The farmer, Luke Porter, asked, "Are you sure you can handle this Steve?"

Steve through gritted teeth replied, "It's no problem Luke. No need to set up the rigging and all of that right now. Besides…" He took a couple of deep breaths and said, "It's been a while since I got in a good workout like this."

Luke hammering a couple of bolts in place said, "I don't know about that Steve. Your work on the barn today was extraordinary. I've never seen anyone work so hard and look like they weren't even exerting any effort." Luke tapped another bolt in place and said, "Okay that should do it for a moment Steve. You can set it down now."

Steve gently set the wagon down and gave it a gentle push. He said, "Looks good. We should be able to get plenty of grain from the fields tomorrow morning."

Luke nodded and stood next to Steve and said, "Thank you Steve. Having you here for these months has truly been a blessing to us here."

Steve nodded and replied, "Just trying to make a difference." Steve paused for a moment and said, "Tell you what I'll clean up out here. You go on in and get cleaned up for dinner. I'll be in there in a few."

Luke looked at Steve for a moment and Steve said, "It's okay Luke really. Besides, I just need a few minutes by myself."

Luke nodded and walked back to the house. Steve picked up a couple of the tools and put them in a drawer. As he closed the drawer he said, "Nick you have about ten seconds to show yourself, and your team has that same amount of time to clear out before I start clearing out the barn myself. I heard you all coming a mile away."

A voice in the dark said, "You heard him everyone fall back to checkpoint two and await further orders."

Nick Fury emerged from the shadows and Steve said, "How long have you had me under surveillance?"

Nick gave a nod and replied, "About three days Cap. I was here in the barn watching you help repair the wagon. I almost believed that you were struggling lifting that wagon."

Steve said, "Part of trying to keep a low profile." Steve picked up some more tools and said, "Unless you have a craving for Pennsylvania Dutch cuisine I have a strong suspicion why you're here, and the answer is no."

Nick stepped forward and said, "Look Cap, I wouldn't be here unless I had no other choice, but we find ourselves in a desperate situation."

Steve shook his head and said, "There's always a desperate situation. There's always a war. There's always some nut who thinks that he's got all the answers for humanity which includes humanity kneeling before him while he lives in a palace of some kind." Steve stopped for a moment and then looked at Nick and said, "When I was fighting the Nazis it was simple in terms of who was the enemy and who wasn't. Now, we have men and women who are supposed to be servants of freedom looking to make money from it. Treating their duty to the people like it was their private piggy bank. The America I fought and was willing to die for is gone Nick. This America…" Steve shook his head and said, "I don't even think I could begin to understand it if time stood still and let me catch up to it." Steve looked out at the farms and said, "Here, I know where I stand. Your word means something to these people. They treat one another with respect and honor. All they want is an honest day's work and to able to enjoy the sleep of the just at the end of the day." Steve looked back at Nick and said, "I don't think that's too much to ask for."

Nick stepped towards Steve and said, "Look Cap, I can't tell you how to live your life, or how you should try to accept the world you woke up to. I know two things one the world is in trouble right now, and two you are the key to stopping it." Nick touched his watch and the video of Hydra began playing.

When it was over Steve just stared off for a moment. The images of his battles with Hydra during World War II began to flash through his mind. Nick said, "You are the one man who brought Hydra to its knees, and witnessed the demise of one of their greatest leaders ever. They fear you Cap and we need you to help stop them again."

Steve looked at Nick and said, "I had a lot of good men and women help me during those times. I didn't do it alone."

Nick replied, "Granted, and you won't be doing it alone this time either. You will have the resources of SHIELD at your disposal, and you will be able to handpick your strike team against them. We've done a good job so far keeping your return out of the spotlight, but Cap it's only gonna be a matter of time before they find out you've returned. Whether you choose to fight back or not isn't going to matter. They're going to remember you as their number one threat and the man who set their plans for world domination back decades. Then they're gonna show up here and then all Hell will break loose, and these people will pay the price. Hydra will hurt them to hurt you."

Steve let out an exhale and Nick said, "You can wear everything they're wearing here and try to fit in, but face it Cap you're a soldier and though the times and weapons change being a soldier doesn't change ever, and it's time to get back in the fight."

Steve knew Nick was right. Hydra would sooner or later find out about him and that would make him a marked man. Steve also knew that there was one thing he truly hated in this world and that was Hydra. If they were back as Nick said they were then Steve knew what he had to do. Steve leaned against a wall and looked out at the farms again. He said, "I'll meet you all at the crossroads in ten minutes."

Without even looking at Nick Steve walked into the farm house. He told Luke and his family that he needed to go. That there was something he had to do and that if he didn't do it a lot of innocent people were going to get hurt. He said his goodbyes and made his way to the crossroads. A black non-descript Ford was waiting for him.

Steve got in the car and sat next to Nick. Steve said, "I'm going to need it as well."

Nick chuckled and replied, "It'll be polished and waiting for you on the Heli-Carrier along with your uniform."

Within minutes Rogers was on a private jet scanning various files and databases trying to put together his new team.
 
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Wade walked down the crowded streets of New York City. He was dressed in baggy clothes with a hood pulled low over his face and a scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face. The baggy clothes helped conceal the .50 caliber Desert Eagle handgun in a chest holster and a short tanto blade strapped to his back. "What to do, what to do..." He meandered down the street, not really caring about where he was going. He had just finished a contract in california and he was flush with cash.

"I know! Chimichangas are always the answer!" He rushed down the street, searching for a food truck. Eventually he found one and got several of his beloved food. Continuing down the street and now happily munching on his food, Wade looked around when suddenly he heard a pair of rough russian voices. Peeking over his shoulder, Wade saw two burly men trying to blend in with the crowd. They were obviously tailing him, but doing a bad job at it.

"What the shit!? I thought I was all good with the russkies?!" He instinctively began to reach towards his pistol when a police car zoomed by with sirens blaring. "Hrmmm...I dont wanna tangle with the popo. I only get cavity searches when I pay for them."

Looking around, Wade spotted a small bookstore. "Poifect!" He quickly ducked inside and closed the door, turning the "Open" sign around to say "we are closed". He went up to the counter and put two chimichangas in front of the clerk. "Hey buddy, mind if I hang out in here for a minute?" He burped loudly and dropped a wrapper on the floor as he watched the doorway. "Say you have any porno mags in here? I mean its a bookstore right? No proper bookstore should be without some titty tales. I say back when I was a kid porno mags were worth their weight in gold to us. No internet or snapchat back then. Ahhh, the good ol days...amiright?" Wade picked up a book and began looking at the cover as the chimichangas oozed onto the counter.
 
The Book Store

Peter was midway through separating the nonfiction from fiction when someone walked in.

Turning, Peter noticed that the individual who had walked in. Had also flipped the sign. And placed two wrapped food items on the counter. Needless to say, he wasn't happy. "The store doesn't mind people 'hanging' around, but this isn't the trash can." He remarked, before jabbing a thumb to a door that read as: "Adult Section - ID is needed."

"Yeah. Today's world is a madhouse. People in costumes running around, secret groups running around. And this new group attacking landmarks.....The one thing I don't get is this.....'Selfie' thing that folks are doing. Catch my drift?" He said. "I would ask for identification. But you look and sound old enough. Just don't steal anything." He finished, going back to what he was doing. Hoping the man would go about his business and leave. But, Peter couldn't help but be curious why this man flipped the sign....Unless the man didn't want anyone to walk in. Which led to other thoughts. Was the man being followed? Or was he hoping to do something without the trouble of witnesses? Whichever it was. Peter was going to have to be on his guard.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Xavier's office

"Personally, I think we should deal with the problem.....Cause eventually, it's gonna become our problem. Whether it be in the form of an attack, or the press blaming mutants as the origin." He said.

He looked over at Logan, waiting on his standpoint on the matter.

@Dipper @Camleen @Dunruffle
 
It was all like clockwork in Ronald's eyes. Cop walks up to a woman, and a car arrives before he could even get a question out to her. The typical cop would have taken the girl's request with current circumstances, knowing that there would be another opportunity, but Ronald was too stubborn to stand down, probably too stubborn for his own good. He stopped to watch a man emerge from the vehicle that had stopped not too far away, his eyes peering out from under the brim of his hat with a skeptical look in the officer's gaze.

"If you want daddy to pay this girl's bail money when I take her down to the station she can by all means keep walking til' these handcuffs find her!"

It was that moment when Officer Ronald Baker stepped out of the lines of the norm. He continued to advance on the girl, quickening his pace so he could at least catch up to her before they reached the Chrysler down the sidewalk. Once he was able to the cop reached out, attempting to place a hand on her left shoulder so to stop her. If she did stop, he'd follow through by turning her around, her back facing her associates as his free hand slipped beneath his jacket so to swiftly pluck out a small card from his uniform jacket pocket. He made sure everything was between himself and this random stranger who to many would look like a lost cause. Ronald could easily see that this wasn't meant to be.

"Here. When you finally wake up you can call this number." He held the card out in front of the girl in his custody, making sure it was between the two of them so it would be difficult for anyone to witness this exchange. He was expecting her to take it, hopefully before this little 'altercation' escalates. They wouldn't dare shoot a cop in broad daylight, but Ronald wasn't sticking around to test that theory.
 
Her eyes widen a little as she hears Ronald calling out towards Clown. Not just calling out to him.. taunting him? This dumbass is going to get himself killed. Her eyes lock with Clown's, to try and judge what he's going to do in response. But Clown just smiles as he starts towards the pair. "Aw c'mon, off'sir. Ya sure ya wanna do that?" She looks passed Clown discretely towards the car.. towards the back of it.. the windows are to dark to see through.. but she can kind of easily make out the shadows she sees within the car. 2 men.. and she knows they are holding guns. No.. no they wouldn't dare do this in the middle of the afternoon.. but they want to.

The young girl comes to an abrupt halt, feeling his hand grasp her shoulder. Her first instinct is to remove that hand from his arm and smack him with it. She doesn't, of course. This time. Clown stops walking, watching with an odd look upon his dark features. She lets herself be turned to face him, her head tilted up a little to keep her jade colored eyes upon his. Why is he doing this? Is he new to this job? To the neighborhood? Does he know what kind of danger he's putting himself in? She doesn't look down as the card is offered, and her mind lingers on his words. No one's ever done this sort of bold thing with her. Since she has been here in the city.. she's been only seen as a source of profit and entertainment. Her fingers pluck the card from his hand, and she glances down at it discretely. And with that glance she instantly memorizes what is on the card.. and then she decides to try and do something to perhaps save his life. Or let him live a little longer, in the least.

She forcefully pulls herself away from him, her hands going into fists. And as she does.. the card is crumpled up into her hand, keeping it concealed. Her voice comes forth then.. a low, defeated tone. But one loud enough for Clown to hear. "I'm not that cheap.. if you can't pay, you can't play. Talk to daddy if you've a problem, fucker." The last word is said angrily, and she now turns, pulling her jacket around her slim and muscular form as she obediently walks to Clown, her 'handler'. At least that's the way her mind categorizes him. Clown keeps a smile on his lips as he stares at Ronald, and gives him a 2 finger salute as the girl walks to him. "Come on back when yer better funded, pal. We'll make sure yer happy." His hand then snaps out and grabs her sleeve, and he leads her back towards the car. Her head bows down as she goes with him.. and discretely she drops the crumpled up card behind her. If she kept it.. they would find it. She has no expectation of privacy or respect, so she knows they would find it. And that would definitely mean a world of hurt for Ronald. His pals in the car, they make note of Ronald's car and his license plate.. they'll find out who he is, where he lives, what he eats… they have connections. Even in Ronald's own precinct.

The girl gets into the back seat of the car, having to sit with the 2 men already back there. A Chrysler 300 is a big car.. but the men still want to be in close space with her.. because… well look at her. The car pulls away… and Clown watches Ronald through the side mirror…
 
Diplomacy wasn't exactly his forte. That was Xavier's strength, and yet the man, perhaps in a moment of genuine loss, looked to Logan for advice.

This was the first time he'd heard of the attacks, however. No surprise that the media was painting mutants in a bad light-- about time, in fact. They'd been walking a fine line for the past few months, and each and every misstep resulted in a commotion of panicking, speeches, and stakeouts.

Vexing is what it was. Logan wasn't known for dealing well with that.

"Yer the Professor," he growled, a faint hint of mild humor in his tone. "Talk to 'em. Got me to listen." It was a roundabout way of showing appreciation, and a push in the right direction for the telepath without resorting to force. That was the extent of his advice. If humanity didn't want to listen to the truth, then that was their problem.

He paused, and suddenly his expression soured. Not out of negativity, but perhaps something else. "Gonna send us out, aren't ya? Give 'em a taste of real mutant."

Right. Xavier's golden boys here to save the day. That's a role he'd take some time getting used to.
 
The door to the bookstore opened and the two russian men walked in. One had a neck tattoo while the other had a large scar across his nose. Wade sighed and put the rest of his food on the counter. "Just stay behind the counter buddy. This will be over inna minute." Stepping up to the two men, Wade held out his hands in a friendly way. "My friends! What brings you to this store? Are you taking a break from jacking each other off long enough to find a book as to which hole you should use? Here lemme answer that for ya."

Swiftly closing the distance in one step, Wade pulled out his blade and stuck it deep in Scarface's guts. Tattoo cursed and pulled out a handgun, causing Wade to pull out the blade from Scarface and quickly sever the gun hand in one swipe. Scarface groaned and slumped to the floor, pulling Wade's scarf and hood down to reveal his disfigured face. Tattoo howled in pain, clutching the stump of his hand as Wade growled. "NOW LOOK WHAT YOU DID! IF THE PAPARAZZI SEE ME OUT OF COSTUME MY CAREER IS RUINED!" He whipped around and stared at peter. "You got a backdoor right? Of course you do. Sorry for the mess."

Grabbing the two russians by their collars, Wade dragged the two men through the store and out the back door. Leaving a bloody smear in his wake and a severed hand clutching a gun in the doorway. Through the backdoor the muffled sound of wade yelling accompanied by screams of pain lasted for a few minutes before two gunshots rang out.

The backdoor opened and Wade walked back in the front of his jacket covered in blood. "Sorry bout that, gotta have a little talk with them. Also I highly suggest not looking in the dumpster." Picking up his food from the counter, Wade reached into a pocket and pulled out a wad of bills and dropped them on the counter. "Thanks for the emotional support tiger, couldnt have done it without ya." Wade put his scarf and hood back on then left store, leaving behind a beat up old flip phone on the ground. If peter tried to catch him Wade would have already disappeared into the crowd.

@The Wanderer
 
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Curious.. it is Logan that mentions diplomacy and Pietro mentions action. He had almost expected it to be opposite. Logan to call for action, in fact. Perhaps he is finally getting through to the feral man. His hands are folded together in his lap as his eyes move from one man to the other slowly. He does appreciate their opinions, but perhaps he had hoped they would give him more of a definitive direction on where to go. Logan has the right of it.. Charles is at a loss at this moment. He draws in a sharp breath as he now speaks, looking towards the window, the grey skies outside.

"Yes, you are both right. We must take action, but we must be intelligent when going about it." He keeps his eyes upon that window as he continues in a soft, thoughtful tone. "The Japanese Americans during the second world war.. the people of Islamic faith during the September 11th​ attacks.. I dread what could be in store if this continuous as it is.." he shakes his head a little, and he looks towards them as he speaks. "The Institute will release a press statement.. calling for peace and tolerance now. I fear if we made more of a showing.. it would backfire on us. So, no Logan… I will not be 'sending you out'. Not this time. We will be patient.. We will help those we can, but we won't let the world persecute us merely for our presence." He now moves around his desk slowly as he continues. "Shield will be putting together a task force.. they have already began recruiting. While I have.. numerous times.. expressed my disapproval of such things… both of you should consider your options when… if.. you are contacted by the agency." He now comes to a stop, his eyes still on the two of them. "These were not just attacks for attention, or for some political statement. And if mutants will be targeted by the general public or agencies of the government.. then we will step in. And we will put an end to it. Even if it is Shield we face. For now.. do what you can, but stay out of the spotlight." That last word is emphasized as he looks right into Pietro's eyes. "There are people still in danger, especially at Liberty Island. Please, do what you think you can to help. But be discrete. No reason to give them more ammunition needlessly.."
 
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While on the flight Steve got a shower, and slipped into a blue t-shirt with blue jeans and boots. When he walked around the SHIELD Heli-Carrier he got enough strange looks. Steve thought looking like he had just stepped off of the farm would lead to even stranger looks. Steve looked outside the window as Nick brought him a bottle of water. Nick said, "Looks like you could use one of these. You didn't get to stay around for dinner at the farm."

Steve opened the water and took a swig. He set the bottle down and said, "Darn shame too. Sarah makes a mean pork chop with homemade applesauce and biscuits." Steve closed a nearby laptop and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Nick sat next to him and asked, "Have any luck figuring out who's on your team?"

Shaking his head slowly Steve replied, "I've seen a lot of good candidates so far on paper, but I need to see them in action. I've seen a lot of soldiers look good on paper, but when it came to action they turned into craven cowards. The only way I know if someone would work is to see them in action. It's the real judge of a soldier. How do they handle combat?" Steve stood up and began to pace slowly, and then stopped dead in his tracks. He said, "Soldier? That's it! I need someone who has a lot of the same life experiences as I've had.Someone who knows what I went through in World War II."

Nick looked at Steve as though he had lost his mind. He said, "If you think we're going to the nearest retirement home or VA hospital just so you can try to get the band back together; I don't care who you or what you can do I'm shoving you out of the plane."

Shaking his head Steve said, "No no no Nick. I know the perfect guy. Goes by the name Logan. There's no way he's dead. Not a chance he's too stubborn to die." Steve flipped open the laptop and pulled up the Xavier School for the gifted. Steve said, "I remember reading about this guy who runs a school for mutants. If anyone would know how to find him it's this guy umm…" Steve scrolled down on the screen and said, "Charles Xavier, I know it Nick. This guy can lead me to Logan."

Letting out an exhale Fury said, "Steve, I know you try to see the good in people and I admire that quality about you, but Mutants aren't thought of too highly in this world. In fact, there are probably people who will try to tie them in with Hydra."

Looking at Nick Steve said, "So what? Those people aren't on the team. I can trust Logan. He and I went through Hell in World War II and he is the perfect bridge between me and the world today. Besides, if I recall you said I could pick the team. Well, if he agrees to it Logan is my first choice. Trust me, he has no love for Hydra either."

Picking up a phone Nick said, "Course change nearest air field to West Chester, New York." Nick nodded and hung up the phone. He walked back to Steve and pulled up directions from an air field to the institute on the lap top. He said, "We're about fifteen minutes from an air field. I doubt the people at Xavier's institute are gonna be too receptive if a SHIELD jet suddenly lands on their front lawn. So…" Nick motioned with his head and said, "Follow me."

The two men walked back to a cargo hold and Nick pulled a white tarp off a vintage Harley Davidson.

Steve smiled and shook his head for a moment. He looked at Nick and said, "How did you know I would say yes and be needing this?"

Nick shrugged his shoulders and said, "You needing it was a hunch. You saying yes, I figured once you knew about Hydra being involved you wouldn't be able to stay away." Nick gave Steve a brown leather jacket.

Picking up a helmet Steve and slipping on the jacket he said, "Once this is over with Hydra Nick I'm out."

Fury replied, "Understood."

They felt the plane slowly begin a descent and Nick gave Steve a cell phone. He said, "I'm programmed in there. You need anything press star 612. You got about a twenty five mile ride ahead of you. " Fury stuck his hand out as Steve climbed on the motorcycle. The two men shook hands and Fury said, "Keep in touch and good luck."

Fury left and Steve steadied himself as the plane finished its landing procedures. Once the plane was on the ground the ramp opened and Steve gave a pull on the buckles of the restraints. When they fell away Steve started the motorcycle and took off.

Under any other circumstance the ride through the country would've been ideal. Steve loved the feel of the Harley as it hugged the road, and the wind against his face. He was hoping that whoever this Xavier guy was that he could lead him to Logan. Logan was not an easy guy to get along with, but when the chips were down there wasn't anyone better in the world to have in your corner than him. Steve and Logan did a couple of missions together and Steve knew about Logan's gifts, but Steve didn't draw attention to them. To him Logan was a fellow soldier and someone Steve could trust.

As he arrived at the Institute Steve stopped the cycle. After cutting it off he took a quick look around. He noticed a camera camouflaged in the trees. Steve looked at the camera, took off his helmet, laid it on the bike and then he raised his hands. Steve was hoping that someone was watching the cameras and that they weren't just for show.

Mentioned
Logan ( @Dipper )
Xavier ( @Camleen )
 
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Keep out of the spotlight.

That meant tip-toeing around the media. Which meant no action. Which meant holding back when they pushed their cameras where they didn't belong. Which, ultimately, meant being polite.

Logan grumbled a good handful of expletives. "Play nice. Sure."

Truth be told, he was looking forward to an outing where he'd have every chance to show humanity what a real mutant was. Unkind and rough, certainly, but no terrorist. He was far too proud of his mutant heritage to miss the opportunity, and regretted giving the Professor a peaceful option.

Nonetheless, it was something to do. Logan pushed away from the wall to get this little jaunt underway, then suddenly froze midway through the door with his head tilted as if he were listening. Within seconds, Logan was out the door and storming down the hall, making no effort to apprise the Professor of the situation before he left.

He stopped to test the air. Beneath the scent of freshly cut grass and oil was something vaguely familiar, as if it were directly from an old dream.

Through the bars, Logan could see the cycle's rider stand and hold his arms up high. That meant the man could see the camera, and if the man could see the camera, what else could he know about the Institute? This spoke of danger and, claws extended, Logan approached the gates.
 
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The Book Store

Peter could only watch with wide eyes as the stranger take out two people like it was nothing.

However, he snapped out of his stunned state as the man left the book store. He was going to have to call the police. Let them take care of this. He would've tried to catch the man, but with how today's crowds were a lot more. "Packed" then back in his day. Another thing he disliked about the future.

Walking over to the phone, he picked it up and dialed 911. "Some guy just walked in at the bookstore, killed two people and ran off." The operator told him the usual line. Sending police, etc. Thankfully he didn't have to tell them the address as the owner specifically used landline phones so that caller I.D would pop up if he needed to call in something.

@Furasian
 
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