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Ronald watched as the girl's hand reached out to grab the card. Just that motion was enough to let even a cadet straight from the academy know that there was a strand of hope in all of this. He didn't let that spark show though, maintaining that almost professional image that is expected of him. The world would have to eventually catch up to the two, and he would have to let her go back to the ones responsible for the life she lived.

“I’m not that cheap.. if you can’t pay, you can’t play. Talk to daddy if you’ve a problem, fucker.” Such parting words made Ronald raise a brow at first, but fortunately he wasn't as stupid as everyone witnessing this scenario would suspect him to be. The officer caught the opportunity and went with it, releasing the girl and folding his arms across his chest as he watched the one who he had stopped walk over to the car down the block. When she passed her handler however his gaze would shift to the man, revealing to the whole gang the most despised thing in their world; a stubborn cop.

"Have a nice day." Was all he said, portraying the usual NYPD act that he had to sometimes play out to hide his true distaste for the time being. He didn't take his eyes off the car for a second, a burning rage building up inside, one that was angry at his inability to do more... It wasn't something he could brush off.

Shortly after his encounter Ronald's portable radio crackled to life, sounding off two warning sounds followed by a voice.

"All available units we have reports of a DB at the bookstore on *Insert street name here.* Unknown suspects at this time, will update as information arrives. Handling unit identify."

A huff of breath escaped Ronald's mouth, one that was relief. It was a distraction from everything, even as grim as the call sounds. He was more than available to take the call. "A-43 show is handling call."

"Roger A-43 be sure you are handling code 2 you have additional units on standby."

With that Ronald was jogging back to his car and chasing the radio all over again, as if nothing had happened all day today. He climbed into the police cruiser and promptly started the engine on before stepping on the gas, the tires on his car doing a skip and kicking up debris as he rolled out of the alleyway and onto the streets.

The response time was about 5 to 10 minutes, a record compared to your average call, but then again dead bodies were a red flag that made any officer put a bit more effort into fighting the daily traffic to get to the scene. Once the car rolled onto the curb the senior officer engaged the parking break and emerged from the vehicle, his eyes peering over the bookstore that was across the street. Ronald spotted the closed sign and decided to approach the front door, giving it a few knocks or taps depending on the material used on the door.

"New York Police, there was a call here recently?" The man announced himself, taking a step back to see if there would be an answer. He got the occasional glance by the passerbys, and who could blame them? Cops always chased trouble.
 
The Bookstore

Once Peter heard the knock at the front door of the bookstore. He carefully walked around the stains or anything that'd count as evidence. Didn't want to cause any hitches in the investigation. He opened the glass door, holding it for the officer to step through.

"Bodies are in the back alley dumpster." He said. Though he tried to hide it, he was analyzing the officer before him. Trying to see if he was the type who'd "put it in the record" or the type that actually did something to solve the crime. No matter the cost. Thankfully, Peter could see it in the man's eye that he wasn't the type of person to either be shoved past, or bribed. The city needed more cops like this one.

"Let me know if I can help in any way......I have to make a call to the owner and let him know about this.....Mess......" Peter finished. Once the officer had stepped inside, Peter would go to the phone he had used to call the authorities. Within a few minutes he had the owner, Mr. Faust. On the line. Letting him know what had happened. "Gott im himmel.....Are you okay?" The elderly man said over the phone. "Yeah. Before you ask, there's hardly any damage to the store....Just need someone to clean once the police are done and have everything they need." Peter said. Mr. Faust sighed over the phone. "Ok.....Call me back if the police wish to ask any questions." He finished before hanging up. Peter placed the phone back. Before leaning against the wall, crossing his arms. Waiting for the officer to do his thing.

@Furasian
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Xavier's office

Pietro nodded at Xavier's words, before turning as he heard Logan book it out the office. Curious. Pietro followed Logan. Coarse, at his speed. Within seconds he was outside beside Logan. Staring at the rider on the motorcycle. He was so tempted to just have a peek at the rider to see who they were. But, at his speed. He could accidently injure the man if he took off the helmet or put it back on the rider's head.

So, he just waited for things to play out. And if things went sour. He would be ready in a flash.

@Dipper @Camleen @MST3K 4ever
 
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Pietro and Logan exit his office.. and they are not thoroughly pleased with his decisions. He has to admit.. he’s not overly thrilled with what has to happen either. Rather, how they have to go about things. He would love to be able to stand at the forefront of this tragedy and show the world that mutants can be a boon to society.. if they are allowed to be. If many didn’t fear for their lives on a daily basis. But such dreams of fancy have no place here, not at this moment.

Maybe someday…

Moving back to his desk, he lets out a gentle sigh. His wheelchair comes to an abrupt halt, though, as his fingers raise off of the control knob. With a perked brow he looks towards the large bay window of his office.. a new presence is closing in on them. One.. with intent thoughts of this institute. But he senses no hostility within the man upon the motorcycle. Quite the contrary, actually. He reaches out so gently with his own mind to get a sense of the most surface thoughts of Captain America, subtle enough that only a master psychic would be able to detect him. He doesn’t delve deep at all, as stated, merely surface thoughts. What is on his mind at this moment.

Charles breaks the link and now he finally comes to a stop behind his desk. There are discrete monitors posted behind his desk, enough that one wouldn’t notice them unless you are looking for them. Good Pietro is, of course, first to the gate. And he sees Logan sauntering up to said gate.. claws extended. He sighs out gently “Oh, Logan.” But only to himself, of course.

Now Xavier clears his throat, and he depresses a button at the edge of his desk. The trio would hear an intercom click on, mounted on Steve’s side of the gate. It looks.. old… and at first one can only hear squawking and static from the intercom

“-----gan, plea--- offi---isn’t wor---“

Charles sighs, knowing his old intercom system hardly works sometimes. Muttering to himself “bloody hell.” He lets go of the button, and then tries again. Now they would hear his voice clearly… mostly.

“Welcome to Westchester, sir. Pietro, Logan.. please see Captain Rogers to my study. He has something to discuss with us.”

The intercom clicks off, the sound of static a moment in it. And then the large gate to the Institute unlocks itself, and kind of swings open. A little. It’s not automated yet. See the Institute doesn’t exactly have all the modern conveniences yet. Hopefully by the time someone blows it up it’ll be more modestly furnished.

And now Charles moves from his office to the study, which is just down the hall. What’s the difference between his office and his study? Well he’s rich, so he can have as many rooms as he wants and call them whatever he wants. The study essentially looks like a miniature library. It’s walls lined with bookshelves full of said books on any range of subjects. It has, like his office, a lovely bay window looking out to the not so distant forest. Instead of a desk, it has 2 couches within it, very comfy couches to be certain. A small table between two plush leather chairs with a chess board on it. A place to unwind, essentially.
 
At first Steve wasn't sure, but then he couldn't believe his good fortune. Logan was already here there wasn't a need to try and track him down. That was going to save him a lot of time. He was hoping that Logan would be agreeable to joining him. Steve didn't know if Logan recognized him, but the fact that he hadn't taken his head off yet with the extended claws brought Steve a measure of comfort. Not a large one, but at least he was still in one piece so far. There was, what best could be described as, a lighting flash and Steve gave a nod to the younger man. He looked at Logan and said, "Been a long time Logan. Good to see that you're still alive I could use your help." He looked over at the young speedster and gave a nod as he said, "Evening." As the voice came on the intercom Steve was somewhat surprised that the voice on the other end already knew who he was. Steve was able to deduce that this was the Charles Xavier he had originally come looking for, but since he had already found Logan Steve could've just talked to Logan outside the gates. However, Charles Xavier had a far greater understanding of mutants than he did so Steve thought it best to talk to Xavier. Besides, although he wasn't a mutant Steve understood what it was like to be an outsider in this world.

Steve pushed his motorcycle through the open gates. He thought it would be rude to drive away from his escorts. Although the speedster named Pietro would probably have no problem Steve didn't want to leave Logan behind either. So he pushed the bike up to the main house. The place was beautiful it looked like Graceland on steroids and the woods around it were a sight to behold as well. Steve could understand why this was the ideal location for the school. It was away from prying eyes, and there were not too many ways to sneak into this place either.

Once they were in the main house Steve took a look around. It was as impressive on the inside as it was on the outside. Steve looked around and said to his escorts, "Feel free to lead on. I would probably run the risk of either getting lost or going into the wrong room." Steve was hoping that at some point Logan might acknowledge that they knew one another, or it could be something happened to his memory. Once they were in the study, Steve looked at the wheelchair bound gentleman and gave a slight head nod. He said, "Charles Xavier I presume. Although you seem to already know me. I came here looking for Logan. I am putting together a strike team to take on Hydra. He is my first choice because, whether he remembers me or not, we served together in World War II." He looked at Logan and said, "The night before the raid on Lichtenberg you, me, The Howling Commandos we toasted with Scotch from the first World War. I said, 'To Freedom and Bucky Barnes' he was killed two days earlier and we took a drink." Steve was hoping that detail might lend him some credibility since they were the only ones who knew what happened that night. Steve looked back at Xavier and said, "Also, I'm fearful that Hydra will use the baseless fears against mutants to try and enflame the public. Divide and conquer, I want you to know I do not hold any biases against mutants. I am looking to try and help where I can as well."
 
When Xavier's voice blared over the speakers, Logan expected it to be a warning. He'd have taken the man's head off in a heartbeat. The Professor's insistence that they bring the man in was enough to deter him. It was enough to spark a hint of recognition.

The world was getting smaller and smaller every day. Putting the past in perspective, Logan did know Steve. If knowing meant peering through thick opaque glass, that is, in the sense that Steve was a part of the chain. The familiar scent of an old war buddy was a wake-up call, that's for sure, and from there, the chain of memories began to resurface. And just like that, with no help from Xavier, Logan remembered.

Here for Logan's help. If it got him out of the Institute and a chance to let loose a little, then, damn, not even the Professor could stop him. Indeed, old soldiers were hard to separate. Logan sheathed the claws and kept the pace until they were back at the manor, where he positioned himself to get a good long look of the man.

"Yer a resilient bastard, Cap," he grumbled, and followed his words with a smirk. "If help's all ya need," Logan began, arms crossed, "then count me in."

A chance to knock some Hydra skulls was an opportunity he wouldn't be letting go of any time soon.
 
Wade briskly walked down the streets, making sure nobody was following him. Once he was sure he was not tailed, he stopped to eat the last of his chimichangas. "Hrmm...the one flaw in my plan when interrogating scarface was that I did not speak russian. So I have no clue why I am being targeted by those commies. Guess it's time to go sleuthing for clues!" Putting the greasy wrapper in a mailbox, Wade made his way deeper into the seedier part of town. Along the way, he saw a man with a pitbull on a leash kicking it in the ribs. "Fuckin dog! Stupid piece ah shit!" Wade stopped in his tracks and turned to face the readers. "Ladies and gentlemen, here we see a sad but common sight. A dog is being abused by the owner that is supposed to love and protect them. Seeing as how I used to be on the end of the leash I can only feel sympathy for this poor animal. Small children and the squeamish should look away now."

Walking up to the man, Wade tapped him on the shoulder, "excuse me good sir." The man turned with a growl. "Whaddaya want?" Wade paused, "to inform you that you sir, are a piece of human excrement that should have never been born." Whipping out his desert eagle, Wade blew apart the man's kneecaps. The man howled in pain and fell to the ground as Wade walked on him and over to the dog. The dog cowered in fear as Wade knelt down next to it. "Its ok boy, I wont hurt you." He held out his hand and the dog sniffed it cautiously and hesitantly wagged its tail. "Thatsa good boy. Is the bad man hurting you? Yes he is, let's give him a taste of his own medicine." Wade stood up and looked over the man who whimpered in pain and fear. "I think its time you felt what it's like to be abused." Wade proceeded to repeatedly kick the man in the ribs, causing several to break as the man wheezed in pain. After several minutes, Wade stopped and took the dog's leash. "Cmon boy, anything you want to say to this bad man?" The dog limped over and stared at the man before lifting up a leg and pissing on his face. Wade laughed and clapped, "good boy!" The dog turned to wade and wagged his tail happily as the broken man moaned in a pool of blood and urine. Taking the dog's leash, Wade set off down the street.

Reaching his destination, Wade entered the seedy bar with his new canine companion. Moe's Booze Bar was a classic seedy bar, filled with a variety of unsavory characters. It was also known in certain circles as a place to gather information on the various goings on of the new york underworld. Plopping onto a barstool, Wade whistled for the bartender's attention. The pudgy balding man walked over and looked at the pitbull obediently sitting next to Wade's stool. "No dogs allowed." Wade pulled out a hundred dollar bill and handed it to the bartender, causing the man to swiftly take it and huff. "Whaddya want Wade?" Wade reached over the bar and grabbed a beer from behind the counter, recieving a cold glare from the bartender. "I need some info Moe, specifically about the russkies. Why did they have two goons following me?" Moe snorted and began wiping down a glass. "You dint hear? Apparently someone looking a lot like you hit one of their cash houses and made of with a couple hundred K." Wade cursed, "What the fuck?! Why would I hit one of their stashes?! I am not that hard up for cash. Plus I was in california all last week!" Moe shrugged, "thats what the word on the street is." Wade huffed and began drinking his beer, "stupid russkies..."
 
Fandral of Asgard

It had been roughly two years since he made his vow. When, he, Sif and the other two of the Warriors three came for Thor, the Crown Prince, he made a vow to Thor to watch over Jane Foster and her friends in case Loki returned while they returned to Asgard. There has been no word. Once a month, he returned to the spot where the Bifrost deposited them. He always made a brief report to Heimdall and returned to the small town in New Mexico where he had been watching over Jane Foster.

After a while, he became involved with Darcy. She was an imaginative partner, smart and athletic. He was very fond of her. She very much made the time he had spent with her. After a while, she made him remember her true love of old. Marian. He loved Marian once many many years ago. It was Marian's memory that made him swear off true love. He loved women, truly he did. But it simply hurt too much.

So back to the present. Outside of time with Darcy, life in this little town was boring. He remembered the time just after his fellow Asgardians left. He spent way too much time talking to the “nice people” from Shield. Several days, taking to Son of Cole. Later he learned the man's real name was Coulson. A very smart and very pleasant when he needed to be, agent of the “Government” here. Fandral was careful not to reveal a great deal about Asgard. Just enough to lend credence to the facts he had told them.

Then it happened. Attacks around the world, some terrorist group calling themselves Hydra. After the ancient monster of Greece. He had met some of the Olympians. Overall not bad folks the Olympians. A bit stuck up perhaps, but that was the nature of certain people. Still, it felt wrong. He had grown to know the people of this small town, Erik, Jane and Darcy. Good people, he had made a Vow, to protect them and Midgard to Thor, the Crown Prince himself.

He took his motorcycle and went back out to the Bifrost landing site.

“Heimdall, I know you can hear me. I swore an oath to Thor to protect Midgard and his friends here. Tell him, there is war here Heimdall. Tell him, Fandral keeps his Oaths Heimdall. Tell him and Sif, Hogun and Volstag. “

He went back to the odd dwelling where his friends lived. He used the phone that Darcy had bought for him as a present and tried to call Coulson. He left a message... and sighed to himself. Nothing could ever be easy.

He said his goodbyes to Darcy. Gave her his sound reasons to volunteer. She cried and cursed him. Throwing things. He had mixed feelings. He was proud in a way. It meant that she really cared. As he gathered his things, he wore a smile.

Before he left he spoke to Jane and Erik.

“Jane Foster, Erik, I thank you for sharing your lives with me. Being kind to me, a stranger, and showing me such hospitality. I swore an Oath to Thor to protect you, to protect Midgard. With the attacks, I must go and keep my vow.”

Of course, they sputtered and came up with reasons he shouldn't go. He gave them a deep nobleman's bow and left.

He got on the Motorcycle and drove. It was relaxing in a way. When next he checked his phone, Coulson had finally left a message... in so many words, go to New York. By the time he finally received the message he had driven into Texas. He took some time for a meal before continuing.
Twenty four hours later he arrived in New York. He had taxed himself. He had gone maybe 30 hours with only a couple of meal stops. He was tired for the first time in a long long while, and slightly lost.

He could tell he wasn't in the best part of town. There were a lot of Dark skinned people, African, Hispanic and none of them seemed to like Blond men very much. He and his duffle bag went into something that seemed very much like a motel. At least, he thought it was a motel. Three very large dark skinned men seemed to object to his presence.

Even in his present, very tired condition, it was a very brief objection to his presence. These men weren't used to having an Asgardians in their presence. He did try to be gentle. He caught a few hours sleep, more than enough when the sunrise woke him up. When he got outside of the hotel, wearing a brown leather jacket, western style shirt, motorcycle boots and carrying his duffle bag he saw a woman.

One among several of course. There was something about her. The way she walked, subdued but she walked like a panther, a predator at rest. Yet, she was just another of these girls. Odd, it stuck out in his mind. He has been a warrior for well over a thousand years. He knew a warrior when he saw one.

Here was a woman as dangerous as any mortal he had ever seen, working as a red lantern girl. It boggled the imagination.

End time estimated 10 PM est, Friday

@Camleen
 
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Ronald took the time to glance over his shoulder at the city that was behind him during the few seconds he had to wait for the door to open. When it opened the officer was offered to step inside. He did take the offer, his hat coming off and remaining in the grip of his left hand as he stepped into the bookstore, coming across the aftermath of some individual's handiwork. Whatever happened must've been one hell of a show, one that had gotten out of hand. Speaking of hand the senior officer got a glance at the severed hand, causing him to raise a brow as he crouched over the mess on a patch of ground that laid untouched. He didn't go too far before turning to face Peter who at the time was already speaking into the phone.

"Hey do you have any security cameras around here?" The officer asked, using his cap to gesture towards random locations where a camera might be. While he asked this, Peter could notice the officer was studying him, reading him for something. Unlike Peter's attempt Ronald didn't try to hide it, even adding onto it after getting the answer to the cameras.

"... Do people die in this bookstore on a regular basis sir? I'm surprised you're rather.. Calm about all of this." He said as he reached over to grab his radio so to report his findings. "I'm going to need a supervisor and some additionals here. Its an ugly one."
 
The Bookstore

When Peter was done on the phone. He turned to answer the officer's question. "Only at the front door and in the adult section. Owner had them installed after some punks stole a few books. If you catch my drift." He said. "When you see enough death, it doesn't bother you after awhile." He was being truthful. The amount of times he had seen dead bodies. Or when he dealt it to the crooks. He was at first against killing. But after having his butt handed to him, and innocents hurt because of his unwillingness to go the extra step. He decided to start playing their game.

Peter walked over to a side room, motioning the cop to follow. "The recording should be in here." He would've tried to pull up the recording, but the tech was still alien to him. Hell, the few times he encountered with something as simple as a VCR. He needed someone to help him with it.

"I assume you know how this works. Cause, I am going to head by to my apartment. As it'd seem I am gonna be out of a job for a few days." He waited for the officer's response before he did anything.

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Xavier's Study

Pietro was restraining himself from asking the Captain so many questions. Afterall, he had heard of the Cap. His adventures. The whole deal. But, when Xavier asked them to escort Cap to the study. Pietro decided to run ahead and get to the study. As he was positive Logan could handle things incase something went wrong.

Within a few seconds, he was in the study. Waiting for everyone to get there.

Once everyone had gotten there. Pietro stayed silent for once, for if Captain America was here. Then that meant something was wrong.

@Furasian @Camleen @Dipper
 
Charles keeps his eyes on the window as the group heads back to the estate proper. It seems Captain Rogers is feeling quite accomplished.. he did indeed come here seeking out Logan. While Logan is a grown-ass man, and Charles is NOT his father.. he has worry on this. He knows Steve is working for/with Shield… and Shield has a bad rep (in his opinion) in regards to how they have treated mutants in the past. In all reality.. he sees the people that performed the horrid experiments on Logan as the same sort Shield sees themselves as.. wanting to do something they think is right, no matter what it costs.

They enter his study now, and he turns to face them, a polite smile on his lips. His head bows a little as he speaks in a soft, calmed tone. “Captain Rogers. It’s my genuine pleasure to meet you, sir.” And as Steve explains his connection to Logan.. Charles also watches Logan, his head bowed down slightly. He can ‘feel’ Logan’s sense of familiarity with this man, in his words. The puzzle box that is Logan’s mind takes one small, slight step closer to opening. While Charles has his reservations, perhaps this would be good for Logan on the whole.

Charles’ eyes remain upon Logan as now Steve turns his attention back to him. Slowly his gaze drifts back to Steve as he speaks. “In you, I know there is no biased. It isn’t you I’ve doubts in.” His hands now fold in his lap as he watches Steve, his eyes not moving from the Captain’s. “You know as a child I was a great admirer of yours. Your feats in aiding the allies was something of inspiration for myself and many others. And now you’ve taken up the mantle once more, Captain.” He draws in a slow breath as he continues. “It isn’t you I have doubts in, Captain Rogers. It is those you work for. You see..” he glances away, towards the bay window “Shield has, in the past, sought to create teams as you are creating now.” Now his eyes move back to meet Steve’s. “I know what you are after, and I know why. You wish to create a team…and you’ve been given carte blanche in doing so by Director Fury.” Perhaps Steve would really question how Xavier knows all this already. “The teams Shield has tried to create before to ‘better our world’ has oft ended in the suffering of many individuals, with very little results. And many times mutants have been used for this. Used, sir. I say that word purposefully. If it were anyone else coming up that lane, you would have never made it to my front gate. In my eyes.. Shield is barely any better than those they face. I’ve not often felt the ends justify the means.” He looks to Logan out of the corner of his eyes, motioning to him as he speaks. “Logan is a good man, even if he himself doesn’t see it or admit to it. Any others here that choose to join your cause.. should they be asked.. are good people. But Logan has been used in the past just as Shield has used others with mutations.” Now he looks back to Steve “Hydra, I’ve no doubt, wishes to put the divide between mutants and the general public. I will not allow that, sir. And Logan.. and whomever else chooses to join your cause.. will see to this. Can you say without doubt that Shield will not use those you are recruiting after this fight is over?” His brows furrow as he stares into Steve’s eyes, getting a sense of his intentions and most surface thoughts.
 
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Name: Laura
Approx. Time: First day, late afternoon to evening
Location: Zebra Daddy’s Club
Tagging: N/A at the moment


The ride ‘home’ was silent, for the most part. It was obvious to her that Clown was stewing. This little group wasn’t used to being sassed by anyone, and they know Ronald was giving them the business. More than that.. he laid hands on Zebra Daddy’s property, and that warrants a response. The degree of that response will be up to Zebra Daddy himself.

The car stops at the little strip joint that acts as home base for Zebra Daddy and his crew. Everyone knows it’s here, everyone knows what goes on here. The prostitution, the drugs, all of it. But everyone is also powerless to stop it. Zebra Daddy controls his turf with an iron fist. And it doesn’t help he has many police officers on his payroll. Without a word Laura gets out of the car and is lead into the club, following obediently. Because it seems that’s what she does. She doesn’t really look at anyone she passes in the loud and crowded club, though she gets more than a few looks. The woman in Zebra Daddy’s service kind of give Laura the stinkeye, calling her ‘that weird chick’. None of the other girls even knows her name, it seems only Zebra Daddy himself does.

To a particular table she is lead.. the one where Zebra Daddy himself sits, and Clown motions to the couch he is sitting on. And once more obediently she sits right next to Zebra Daddy, who smiles to her. “Well hey lil boo.. heard ya had a little.. encounter. He didn’t hurt ya, did he?” Laura only looks to him out of the corner of her eyes, showing no emotion. She shakes her head to his question, and he chuckles lightly. “Mebbe someday you’ll say more’n 2 words to yer Daddy. Mebbe thank him for this rich life I’ve given ya. Gotcha offa tha streets, nice place ta live, 3 squares a day. But Daddy knows ya love ‘im.” He cups her cheek lovingly, and then Clown speaks up. “Might have issues, Daddy. Some cop sniffin ‘round. Laid hands on ya boo.” He motions to Laura, who just stares at the table in front of her. “Go back to ya room, boo. Daddy’s got business.” And with that, Laura gets up and walks towards the stairwell, to her room. And as she does.. Zebra Daddy begins to make a little plan…

Laura undresses once she gets to her room, and she stands under the shower for almost a half hour. But it doesn’t help. Filth won’t wash away, just as blood won’t wash away. Hours pass, and she just lays in her bed then. Nothing more. Just lays there staring at the wall. Her mind is blank.. this is the time she doesn’t like. When she’s alone. Alone with her thoughts.. such as they are. All she knows is her mission.. all she knows is what her next directive is.

And her next directive has her heading back to that hotel that night…
 
Wanda Maximoff Charles Xavier's mansion.

Wanda had been living at the Mansion for a couple of years now. Professor Xavier had been helping her train her mind to better control her powers. There were others here, like her and her brother Pietro, but she didn't talk much to most of them.

Logan helped her with a lot of physical training. To her, Logan was a complicated man. Like the Uncle you loved but wouldn't admit to knowing to your schoolmates. He was harsh, but always cared. There were others of course, some of the girls she could talk with but she just wasn't a talkative person. She did most of her contact with the Professor via telepathy. Even in his mind he was calm, like a mountain lake first thing in the morning.

Pietro was of course, Pietro. They called him Quicksilver, partly for the silver hair and partly because of his incredible speed. Her older brother by nine years he was used to looking after his little sister. These last two years came as something of a shock for him as to the nature and power of her abilities now.

She heard the Professor call out to the others. The eldest of his people here, Pietro and Logan. Whether or not he could tell she was eavesdropping she didn't know. He should expect it she thought to herself. He probably knew her powers better than she did after two years of training her.

There was a man walking with a motor cycle, Logan beside him. She didn't like using telepathy to watch through Pietro's eyes... It always made her just a little dizzy. She went to a window, too curious to stop now. Gently she touched on the Captain's surface thoughts.. A mission.... Looking for Logan.... World War II... Fascinating.

Now, as a young woman who has been training intimately with Charles Xavier for roughly two years, she could assume a few things about her beloved Professor. First, he wasn't fond of the Government in general and worse, shield in specific. But, Hydra was a known evil. a throw back to the Nazi's of old, only more refined now. Second, he would be non too excited about her going anywhere. There, Pietro had finally stopped buzzing around and was leaning against a wall in the study. She listened in as she made her way carefully towards the study. She unlocked the door with Telekinesis, looking through Pietro's eyes of course.

She slid within the study. The Professor's personal space really. Rarely did any student find themselves in here without getting a long disappointed speech. She felt Logan being pleased at more of his mind being unlocked, pleased about seeing an old friend.

She reached out to hold Pietro's hand. One thought clear in her mind. She was an adult no matter what anyone said, and this was her world to defend too.

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@Camleen @The Wanderer @Furasian @Dunruffle @MST3K 4ever @Dipper
 
Fandral Late Friday night in New York.

Last time he was in New York it was the 1930's as he was disguised as Errol Flynn. He looked around, and decided to walk a while. New York was a beautiful city in many ways. The people of Midgard at their best. New York City alive at all hours of the night.
He was wearing what Darcy called a ren faire shirt, sturdy and light green with his Jeans & motorcycle boots.

He stopped at a bar for a while, taking a couple of drinks. Sadly, alcohol on earth had less of an effect on the average Asgardian. Still, it was good this time for a tiny little buzz. So back out on the streets touring night time New York. He stopped to talk with street vendors. he bought a t-shirt here, a Hoodie sweatshirt there. He left a message for Agent Coulson as to where he was more or less. The name of the " hotel " he was staying in. Darcy had told him Shield could probably tell where he was at any point his phone was on. But he didn't much care.

On the way back to the " Hotel " he stopped at an all night Diner. The food smelled good. It reminded him that he was hungry. Cuban & American food the sign said, so he want in. Felix's was the name on the door. He hoped it would be memorable.
A young woman came to take his order.

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She looked at him just a little oddly, He didn't fit the neighborhood too well. He seemed to strike a familiar chord in her.

" Can I take your Order sir ?"

"Certainly miss, I would like this sandwich plate, with a bowl of this soup. Fried potatoes instead of fries and the plantain bananas with Ice cream please "

She looked at him again.

" That's a lot of food sir, are you certain ?"

Fandral smiled at her.

"Yes my lady, it's been a long day and it's been a while since I've eaten. "

"Alright then, whatever you like "

She came back later with his order, getting help from another girl. "Anything else mister ? "

"Fandral " he added. "Not yet, but come by later miss ?" (( smiling at her ))

She shook her head and smiled back at him. "Claire, I'm helping out tonight, someone called in sick for the bar rush".

Fandral finished his meal, happy with the taste and the amount. As he finished, it looked like Claire was done for the night.

"May I escort you home My Lady Claire ?"

Again she gave him a second look, uncertain for a moment, then she nodded " I usually don't do this, but there is something about you. Come on, before I change my mind." She smiled and shook her head.

So the two of them walked, chatted, small talk mostly for a while. Suddenly two young men jumped out to confront them.

Claire was tense, moving very slightly behind Fandral.

"Give us your money, man ! " Each of the young men had, at least in Fandral's mind, small knives, what did Jane call them, switchblades he thought.

Fandral was, even for an Asgardian, very quick, he pulled out his fighting knife from one of his boots and smiled.

" Now gentlemen, I offer you this chance. Leave now and I'll consider it only a jest, a joke. Stay and you may not get this chance again "

The two men rushed him, He reached out and stomped hard on one's foot and cut the other one's knife in half. They ran off in terror, one limping significantly. He grinned widely and put away his own blade.

"You all right my lady ? "

Claire let out a deep breath and nodded back at him. "How is it you think this is so humorous?"

He had started to chuckle to himself. "Just young men being young men"

"Remind me to ask you more about where you grew up"

A short time later they arrived at her apartment. He gave her a hug. " You are certain you are fine ? "

"Yes Fandral, thank you.. " I also don't do this very often." She shook her head in wonderment at what was coming over herself. " Here is my card.. you know... just in case ?"

Fandral had a very natural smile on his face of course. "Thank you my lady, it was a pleasure.!"

He sauntered leisurely back to the wretched scummy Hotel and sat outside for a while before going inside to catch a nap.

@Camleen
 
Looking over to Logan he returned the smirk and said, “Trust me my friend you’re going to get plenty of opportunities to help out on this one.” Steve shook his head for a second and said, “Nice to see that you haven’t changed Logan.” Steve knew that when the chips were down having Logan in the fight would be the difference between life and death.

The speedster Pietro was quiet and Steve was glad that the young man realized the gravity of this situation.

Steve had been in meetings like this before. When he formed the Howling Commandoes there was resistance by his Superiors who felt that there were better personnel than he had selected. Then there was when he was first brought back into Shield and there were those who questioned whether he still had what it took. In this case, Steve felt that there was some resistance it wasn’t directed at him personally by Xavier. He was concerned for the Mutants and Steve was concerned as well. Steve let out a bit of an exhale and leaned on the desk. Looking Xavier in the eye he said, “Professor Xavier, I too share your concerns with Shield. I have only been with them for a short time and in that time I have started to have questions and concerns about them and I am not liking the answers I am finding either. I am well aware that there are those within Shield that haven't treated mutants with compassion or basic decency, and they are the leaders within Shield. There are also those, like Fury, who feel the ends justify the means and that is not something I have ever believed in. In the end the costs for following that perspective many times ends up being higher than if nothing was done.” Steve walked over to the window and looked out for a moment lost in thought. He turned back to Xavier and said, “I will be honest with you sir, I cannot speak for Shield in this matter concerning what happens when this is all over. I wish that I could. In fact, I can’t even say if they will honor my wish of leaving me alone what this is over, but I can make you one promise sir…” Steve looked Xavier in the eyes and said, “I will use every means at my disposal to safe guard all in this Strike Force, human or mutant, all will be treated equally. When it is over I will again do everything in my power to ensure that Shield is out of the lives of all who choose to leave. I say that because that’s what I want. Before all this began I was enjoying life in an Amish community in Pennsylvania.” Steve nodded and said, “It’s only because of Hydra that I came back to the fight. Otherwise…” Steve shook his head and said, “No way I would be involved in this again, and I am actually hoping to go back to the Amish community when this is over.”

Another young lady walked into the room and Steve gave her a polite nod and said, “Ma’am.” Xavier’s lack of reaction told him that Xavier trusted her.

Mentions/Inactions
Wanda ( @Gands )
Xavier/ Pietro ( @Camleen )
Logan ( @Dipper )
 
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Hearing such a response from a clerk at a bookstore instinctively made the office raise his brow as the man. He didn't expect such a person in a environment such as this one to have such a view on life and death, even if they were living in the city of opportunity. Regardless Ronald would step down from questioning Peter, since he indeed was the one who called the police in the first place. After being offered to look into the VHS the officer gave the man a nod then listened to his closing statements. Upon spotting the window of opportunity Ronald rummaged through his uniform shirt pocket, digging out yet another card that had his information on it.

"You can call this number if ya have anything else for us... But you should call 911 first before calling me, yeh?" Ronald said, a quiet, uneasy chuckle escaping him at his little warm response. Just another day of handing out cards and locking down crime scenes...

After offering the card the senior officer motioned with his left hand towards the door, signaling to Peter that he was free to step outside and do whatever he wished to do now that he had a unannounced day off work. He did however follow the man out so to meet the next squad car that would arrive on scene just seconds after the two got out. It had the usual two uniformed officers who approached Ronald so to get their todos from the first on scene, and he was happy to oblige.

"Hey guys we got 2 DBs in the dumpster so I need you two to start setting up perimeter." Ronald said as he pointed towards parking meters, fences, anything that could be used to help tie down a crime scene tape. He worked as if Peter were no longer there, but then again a cop had a job to do. After they got their orders and dispersed Ronald turned away to fish out his cell phone, a sigh escaping him as he dialed a number.

"We got a real mess- .... Yeah we're gonna need some homicide detectives out here. Yes, yes I already have everything together and perimeter is established. Right then."

As the day transitioned Ronald faced the reality that he was a patrol officer regardless of the effort he contributed. In the end it was just handing over another case and returning to the day's shift. Fortunately for him he survived until the punch out time, granting him the rest of the night to roll over today's encounters. Tonight was different.


Moe's Booze Bar

Around the dinner hours Ronald had arrived to one of the most questionable bars in the area. He knew just by looking around there was a good chance he probably arrested one of these people. After about five minutes of sitting around the man grunted under his breath as he rummaged through the pockets of his hooded jacket just to fish out his phone. He was sending a text message, to a familiar number.

7:45 PM : Are you available to talk over a drink? Need your help.

7:48 PM 'WC' : Briefing night shift. Should be about an hour.

That gave Ronald the time to settle down. It was perhaps strange to have a cop in a place like this, but it wasn't uncommon. Places like there were the only places where Ronald could sit alone and have a meal without needing to worry about crime or the news outlets. Here things took care of themselves, and the life expectancy was perhaps better than a fast food joint nowadays. Everyone kept to their business, so he kept to his. He did however glance over towards an individual shouting rather incriminating stuff at the bar.

"He must either be drunk or crazy.." The off-duty officer muttered under his breath as he continued to watch from the side lines.​


((@Dunruffle I'll edit the bar part in later tomorrow just thought I'd squeeze something out there since I gave soo many promises. I'll holla over OOC when your half is added in!))
 
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Wade leaned against the bar and sighed as he toyed with an empty beer bottle. "The problem today Moe is that nobody respects the rules anymore. If you work for somebody enough times you get inside info, you spare someone's life and they dont try to screw you over. Buuuut apparently if someone poorly impersonates you, then nobody bothers to check if its the real deal or not! I mean come on! Those fuckin russians should know that I am above ripping off one of their stash houses! Hell I make more money in one job than there was in that stash. Also! If I WAS gonna steal from them, I would have gone balls deep! A couple hundred K is pocket change! I would have aimed for at least a million!" Huffing indignantly, Wade dropped a few pretzels on the floor for his canine friend. "Also! I may be a mercenary, but you dont see me going around beating defenseless dogs. The only people who do that are limp-dicked assholes who are too much of a bitch to actually fight a real person. Speaking of which, I wonder if that guy made it off the street yet...ah well, no skin off of my teeth...heh..get it? Skin off of...ah nevermind, you dont have the advanced case of dermatological shit that I have.

A tall lanky man walked into the bar and looked around, spotting Wade. He walked over and sat next to him at the bar. If Ronald noticed, the man was a well known lieutenant in the russian mafia with an extensive record. The man ordered a glass of vodka and turned to Wade. "Wade, we need to talk." Wade spun around on his stool a few times before facing the man. "Look Reznov, I have nothing to say to you. Well actually I do, those two guys you sent after me. It was purely self defense." Reznov sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "yes...that was a misfortunate understanding. The one who ordered that has been...reprimanded. We now can confirm it was not you who stole from us." Wade threw his hands up in the air in exasperation and turned to the pitbull. "Can you believe this shmuck?" Turning back to Reznov, Wade tightened the scarf obscuring his face and adjusted his hood. "So what? You came to apologize?" Reznov smiled and shrugged, "sort of. I have been given permission to offer you the chance to catch your imposter." Wade drummed his hands on the bar, "make it worth my while." Reznov chuckled and took a smartphone out of his pocket, "I have already sent 200 to your usual account, you get the other half when you bring in the imposter and our stolen property." Wade tapped his chin, "hrmm...not exactly the best pay...but getting paid to take down the dickcheese that framed me is pretty good....you got a deal Reznov." They shook hands and Reznov grinned. "Good, now how about I buy you a drink and we can catch up. You would not believe how boring these boys that they send me are." The two men began chatting away and drinking as Moe simply sighed and went back to cleaning the bar.
 
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Charles watches Steve intently as he speaks. There is no deception in his words, no malice in his spirit. But he senses.. an unease. Captain Rogers is the sort to look ahead, see the forest for the trees. And he is worried about what will happen once his ‘usefullness’ as a soldier for Shield is done. With himself and those he has asked to join him. Shield always has that ace up their sleeve, ready to dole it once when the chips are down. Charles knows this from experience.

His eyes draw to Wanda as she enters, and he smiles softly to her. She would hear his gentle voice in her mind as he looks back towards Steve. ~Wanda, good day young lady. This is Captain Rogers.. he is here to ask Logan to join him in a.. task.. force. To put an end to Hydra. I am hesitant.. but I feel it would be best to let Logan go with him. For his own development.. but of course… if I can not be with him, someone will have to go in order to keep good Logan out of trouble. Do you know anyone that can do that?~ For a moment he glances to Wanda and Pietro as he starts to speak, his eyes drawing back to Steve.

“Captain Rogers.. I wholly appreciate your candor with me. You’ve proven to me that the stories I’ve heard in regards to your character were not exaggerated.” He now moves from around his desk, closer to the group as he watches Steve. “I’ve no doubt your intentions. You speak the truth in your heart, something else I appreciate, sir.” His eyes move to Logan as he speaks, emotion taken out of his tone. “Logan.. I’ve no say in whether you come or you go. I’ve done my best to help you, I feel there is more I can do for you. You deserve no less than to know just who you are, where you come from. Going with Captain Rogers, I feel, would be most beneficial to you. I wish nothing but positive thoughts. Should I be needed.. I believe you know where to find me, yes?” He glances once more to Pietro and Wanda… and then he looks back to Steve.

Now it’s Captain America that would hear Charles’ voice in his mind. A soft echoing whisper, like a gentle breeze bringing ripples to a calmed pond. ~Captain Rogers.. none of these mutants are of any blood relationship to me. So far as I know. But I do truly see them as my children. Even the ones that would throttle me for saying such a thing~ He glances to Logan, and then back to Steve. ~I am entrusting much to you, sir. Not just soldiers for your task force.. but also the sparks of our future. Do not disappoint me, sir. I will be watching.~

He then holds his hand out to Steve, a small smile on his features now.
 
Logan made a vague, simultaneously restless and disinterested expression, as if the whole exchange had gone on for long enough and he'd very much like to get away from the mansion.

"Let's get a move on, Cap', before he starts gettin' sappy." Such honest support set Logan on edge every time, suspicion where there would have been appreciation in anyone else. He wasn't exactly equipped to handle or properly interpret kind words as genuine. The suspicion waned quickly, however, within the span of a few seconds. Although he frowned while doing it, he made the slightest of slight gestures in the form of a nod, imperceptible to anyone else. Perhaps it was his way of showing thanks, even if he didn't know it yet.

Hell, he'd miss the man's prodding-- if only because it kept him grounded in reality. The stability the mansion provided had given his memory the jump start it needed, and now... Whether he returned after this operation was undecided for the time being. Logan didn't dwell on it for long.

That was all the time Logan was willing to spend on goodbyes. He had direction now, which felt a lot better than it ought to. Catharsis, here he comes.
 
Wanda Maximoff Xavier's Mansion.

( Telepathically to the Professor )" Yes Professor, We'll keep an eye on Uncle Logan "

"You're pardon Captain, I believe you will find my brother and I valuable to your cause. My name is Wanda Maximoff, this my older brother Pietro. My abilities are primarily telekinetic in nature. I have been training here a couple of years now. Logan himself has been running me around to increase my endurance and my physical fighting skills. The Professor been training my control of my powers. I am ready to help sir. I think the Professor and Logan both can give you an idea of what I can do. "

" But if necessary, I can give you an example, best it not be inside though."

Wanda's heart was racing just a little, she was nervous. She considered everyone at the mansion family. That's how they all felt here. It was an amazing place. Rare enough that Pietro found peace long enough to stay in one place. It was her brother who brought her here. She taught the younger kids three hours a day. She had a degree in Psychology. All of that paled besides the idea that this was what she wanted to be... She felt this to be her destiny. More so, that at least privately, the professor supported her.

@Camleen @Dipper @MST3K 4ever @The Wanderer
 
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Elizabeth Braddock -Xavier Mansion

Having only woken up minutes before the woman many called "Betsy" had spent the night before pouring over old news articles before falling asleep in an uncomfortable chair. Sitting up Elizabeth felt her head ringing and tried to comfort it by running a hand over her forehead. Looking around on the table she had slumped over the articles were strewn all over the place. Cleaning them up and placing them in their respective folders she stood up and made her way out of her room. It had been some time since she had last visited the school but, she needed access to some of the archives and the massive librarys the school had available.

Walking down the stairs to the main lobby she turned and made her way into the kitchen. Purple hair a mess she looked like she had a rough alcohol filled night but in reality, it was spent researching a topic relating to the interwar period of 1938 to 1940. Pouring a massive glass of milk the size of a XL Soda Cup she began to drink it down all at once without taking a breath. Finishing it she put it in the sink before washing it and turning to walk back out. Taking the stairs once more she let her mind stretch its legs and felt the presence of another which she did not normally feel. Disregarding it she made her way back to her room and began to get herself ready for the day.​