Players: Magneto and Vincent
Summary: Vincent goes looking for the man behind the man who shot him. He finds way more than he bargained for.
Date: Sept 12, 2010
Log Title: What Grows in the Dark
Rating: PG-13
NYC - Mutant Town
Mutant Town, also known as District X, has become a haven for mutants. This section of town doesn't care what you look like, accepting all mutants no matter what their appearance. Most of the businesses in this section of town are mutant run ranging from small convenience stores to clothing shops to restaurants to night clubs. The buildings here aren't the high rise buildings you might find in mid-town but most are about 5-6 stories high. Mutant Town might not be the most luxurious section of town, in fact it's fairly run down, but this section of where mutants are safe and welcomed regardless of race, religion and culture.
Mutant Town is darker than other areas of New York, once night falls. The street lights here, when they burn out, are not replaced as quickly as they are in other parts of the city. Indeed, some of the lamps here have been dark for months… and everyone knows what grows in the dark, when you're in the city.
The Rocket is a young man, well known among those who frequent dark places, looking for things to buy and sometimes to sell. He specializes in things that go BOOM, hence the nickname. He never travels with a lot of gear or a lot of cash; PDAs are good for photos, and for money transfers. For those who want hands-on attention? A meeting, first, in one of these dark places.
The dark is quite often the last places a person wants to go in the night. Especially in mutant town. A young man, wearing a black jacket, a crimson shirt, and black pants walks down the sidewalk as if nothing could phase him. A man on a mission, Vincent turns into the shadows, as a predator corners his prey before the kill, but he remains fluid in his moves, cold, menacing. He walks near The Rocket but doesn't face the man directly, as he slides a hand into his jacket and pulls out a gun with a carving in the handle, sliding it through a sliver of light. "Seen this before?" Vincent asks quietly but firmly.
The Rocket glances around, then away. He keeps his own hands in his pockets. "Might could. Not exactly, but not common. You looking to buy, or just looking?" His attention goes up, away, and back to Vincent, looking past him out onto the street. There is no one else in this dark place, a slot between buildings that should be lit by the lamp at the mouth, but… isn't.
An alley way at night is a great place for business to take place that is best unseen by wandering eyes. A fact both parties should know very well, Vincent however has a different business in mind. "I'm looking to return." The self healer says as he leans over slightly to peer around the side of the building, eyes darting both ways before straightening himself back to normal. "So I'll ask one more time: Have you seen this before?" Vince steps closer to the Rocket, but he's trying to be more intimidating with this motion.
"You're looking, then." The Rocket thumps a foot against the wall he's leaning on. He seems alert, but not particularly intimidated. "You're wanting a new direction to go, somewhere that one was." Thump. "How much?"
Vincent clenches his eyes closed, and puts his finger and thumb together on the bridge of his nose, these guys always piss him off. "Tell me where you got this and I'll leave you alone. Maybe I'll even come back and shop with you. But heaven help you if you don't answer me in the next five seconds." Vincent grits his teeth at the man, and at the same time pulls up the zipper on his wrist up to his elbow.
The Rocket gives Vincent a narrow-eyed stare. "You expect something for nothing? From me?" The tone is not welcoming. "Here?" He jerks his chin upward, indicating the area. "This is Mutant Town, fish. Bite or back off. I don't know that gun, but if you want me to find something out about it? You pay for my time and trouble." His hands are still in his pockets.
Vincent throws the gun down at The Rocket's feet and then steps forward, grabbing the man's shirt just below the collar and tries to slam his back into the wall. Vincent obviously going for some type of intimidation method here, with one sleeve dangling from his elbow a line of blood grows on the inside of his arm as the blade begins to cut through skin, out into the darkness. Vincent fed up with this guy, "Tell me and you live." starts to make demands, as the blade from his arm continues to spin closer and closer to the kid.
"Hhhhhh…." The Rocket exhales into Vincent's face, a surprisingly sweet-smelling breath that will remind him of flowers. It's a soporific gas, direct into the young man's face, and the sleep it encourages is swift and comfortable.
It isn't the Rocket's only defense. The hands come out of his pockets… save they aren't hands. A wild tangle of tentacles emerge from The Rocket's sleeves and they reach for Vincent's wrists. If they touch, they, too, have soporifics on them—slower than the breath gas, but just as comfortable.
Vincent takes a step back, more surprised at Rocket's reaction than harmed by it. Vincent coughs, bringing up the hand that doesn't have a blade sticking from it to cover his mouth. Vince lets go of the man and backs up into the wall less than three steps back and spins out his other blade with a splash of blood on the ground and the tearing sound of his sleeve. "Much more entertaining this way." The self healer says, as the sound of dripping blood already begins to slow as his arm heals closed, even as the vines wrap around his arms and Rocket's breath wash over him he has no negative effect beyond stepping back.
It's a strong sedative, enough to knock out most people, even big ones, or tough ones. The Rocket's eyes widen that it isn't working here… but this is Mutant Town. There's always someone tougher than you out there, and the Rocket knows it.
Which is why he has back-up. He's out here talking to strangers for many reasons, and he isn't sure but this might be one of the big ones. "Magneto," he says, and he tries to pull Vincent's wrists toward each other, so that his tentacles can bind the other man to something approaching safer. Those blades, though… they're a real worry….
Vincent's wrists smack together hard, and the sound of bone scraping against bone is never a pleasant one, and causes self healer to cringe slightly. "What?" Vince asks Rocket, not sure why he's saying that name now, but Vince looks at his wrists, or tries to in the dark, attempting to see the vines that are constricting him, even if for the moment he decides to let the plant kid think he's winning. For the moment.
They're standing face-to-face, the Rocket and Vincent, and the smell of flowers is nigh over-powering. "Get ready to talk," says the boy with sleep on his breath, and a sudden gust of wind blows his hair around. It's a bit long… and it's tentacles, too. The fine ends stroke along Vincent's right cheek and nose, not in any way that normal hair would.
Behind him, in the deeper darkness of the far end of the alley, a shape descends out of the sky. "Rocket." The voice is deep and nearly as dark as the shadow it rises from, the accent foreign but not markedly from one place or another. Depending on how much television Vincent watches, he may even recognize it.
Vincent cringes at the medusa like hair and tries to turn his face away from them. As he is just about to spin his blades back into his arms to free them from the vine like grip the voice is heard and all of Vincent's fidgeting and rustling stops. He turns his head in the direction of the sound, almost certain he knows who owns that particular voice, but he can't help himself. "Who are you?" A slight tremor can be heard in his question. Xavier's students always had some story to tell.
There is no answer, just the crunch of boots on gravel. As the shape nears, what light there is from the street limns the edge of a keyhole helmet, picks out a spark of purple, the hint of a broad iron collar. Tall. Broad. And completely at home in dark places. "Good evening, Rocket. Thank you. I will take this from here."
The Rocket bows his head. "Sir." The tentacles slide away from Vincent's wrists as he retreats. The Rocket bends and comes up with the gun. "He asked about this." He opens his tentacles and the weapon floats in mid-air, as the Rocket turns and slips away.
Vincent's eyes never go back to Rocket, even as his arms are released and lower to his sides. The bone blades sticking out of his fists remain exposed but it's hard to tell if it's from fear, forgetfulness or fury. Vincent however finally finds his nerves again as he turns to face the man in the helmet dead on, only after he summons the gun to him. "Wai- What're you doing out here?" Vincent asks, starting with a different question but going for something he can say calmly without malice or joy in his voice.
The gun revolves slowly in the air, Magneto's attention on it, not Vincent. For a long moment, he does not speak. The sound of the Rocket's shoes fade away before he turns to face the young man. "An unusual weapon. You will tell me where you got it. Then you will tell me why you are here, in Mutant Town, asking questions of people and damaging them when they do not answer. You will tell me everything I wish to know." His head tilts down and a glitter off pale eyes shines within the deep shadow of the helmet's rim. "Now."
Vincent's blades quickly spin back into his arms, just as he begins to answer. "I took it off the body of the man who shot me. But that was after he mentioned something about mutant scum." Vincent reaches up to his sleeve that wasn't damaged by his natural weapons and zips it back down to his wrist before continuing. "I'm trying to find the person who made it." Short and simple answers to short and simple questions.
"Ah." Magneto straightens. "You may be useful to me, then. Come." He swings around, cloak billowing, and lifts into the air. Vincent will find himself lifted, too, a few moments later; there is a pause, in case he can fly under his own power.
The flight is short, just a few blocks, ending on the roof of the Genoshan Embassy. The light is better there, and the expression on Magneto's face is clearer: his mouth is taut and his eyes narrowed. The Mutant Master of Magnetism is not happy.
Vincent furrows his brow at Magneto's comment and blinks, wondering what he has in mind. For a mutant that doesn't fly, Vincent seemed pretty ok with it, as he did grow up with a bunch of psychics and telekenetics. "I'd like to know what I can do that you can't." Vince has a courage surge at probably a bad time.
Magneto glances at the young man. "You can show a sculptor what your shooter looked like." He leads the way to a rooftop door, and thence downward, past several floors to a room on the main level, where several people are working.
"Deborah." When Magneto speaks, a wide-eyed brunette looks up from a bin of newspapers. The room has several tables and a wall of shelves, most of them empty, although two lovely floral arrangements sit on a table by the door. "This young man will give you a description of a man. I would like you to make a bust, tonight."
Vincent follows behind Magneto and blinks a few times. "Well, the shooter won't be wasting our precious natural resources any more." Vince notes as he goes down a few more steps. "On the handle though is a name that was hand carved, and not the name of the shooter. Trust me." The self healer notes before they walk into Deborah's room. Vincent looks to Deborah with a worried smile and then to Magneto's helmet, "Uuuh, I don't have any idea what this guy looks like." before looking to the floor slightly shamed.
Magneto turns to look at Vincent and crosses his arms. Deborah looks at Magneto and fidgets. The Master of Magnetism lets the silence stretch uncomfortably before he says, "Why should I trust you? You attacked a man for telling you he would sell you what you wanted."
"You shouldn't." Vincent says pretty bluntly, looking the elderly man in the eyes. "But if you know another way to get information from a black market hustler, I'm open to suggestions." He's really getting brave with his words.
Magneto's mouth twists into a half-snarl. "Of course there is another way. You could pay him." He flicks fingers, dismissing the matter. "As for your shooter, if you know his name, tell it. If you do not, Deborah will create a likeness of him, and we will discover his name that way. From there, we may have a chance of tracing his movements and possibly those of this weapon, but first you will cooperate!" The last word is said with force, and Deborah ducks behind a table, hearing it. She isn't even the target.
Vincent refuses to flinch, feeling like he's always in the company of more powerful mutants, a feeling he's gotten used to. "The shooter's name was David Shiff, but he'll never hunt mutants again. And the name on the gun is Hart. That's all I know." Vince says, realizing half way through his thought that he probably shouldn't piss off Magneto.
Magneto subsides into a rumbling irritation. "David Shiff. Did you leave the body where it could be discovered, then?" Another flicker of his fingers and the gun swoops over to land on a table beside Deborah. "Make a copy of this. In fact, make several."
Vincent starts to look up at Magneto with a "Are you serious?" face but he restrains himself and replies "No, he's probably in a landfill by now." The healer watches the gun float across the room with a slight look of jealousy, no way could he really ever compete with a mutant such as the master of magnetism.
Magneto's expression goes more thoughtful and the irritation subsides. Deborah gives him a wary look, then gets up from where she was hiding behind the table and goes to the gun. She looks at it carefully from all directions, her nose mere millimeters from the metal.
The Master of Magnetism finishes his thought and strides from the room. "You." To Vincent. "Follow me." He'll lead the way into an empty conference room and shuts the door behind them. Then, "Are you sure the body cannot be found, or merely hopeful? Could you find it again?"
Vincent merely follows the instructions of Erik and leans against the door frame after they doors close. "Well, you'd have to be really looking for it by now. As far as me finding it, I doubt it. As I said, it's probably at a land fill by now. If not I remember the dumpster I left him in." Vince says as he cleans some dirt from under his finger nail.
Magneto smiles; there is malice in his eyes. "We'll check there first. If possible, I would like to retrieve that body." For purposes of his own. Vincent is proving to be an annoying young man, so he won't bother outlining those purposes as yet. "You will tell me your name and age, now."
Vincent raises an eyebrow but obeys. "Vincent and I'm 21." He's mostly obedient though he's got some issues, as does the rest of his generation. Vincent starts to think about the entire situation a bit, but he holds his tongue.
Still malicious, Magneto waves Vincent out of the room and back to the roof, where he has the young man direct him to the Dumpster where he dumped Shiff. The body is still there; Magneto looks pleased as he retrieves it. They make their way back to the Embassy, where the body is put in an empty room. "I should like for you to write up a report of your encounter with this man, as soon as possible." Magneto regards the body, then Vincent. "Where are you living, young man? It is late; there is room here for you to stay, if you require a bed for the night."
Vincent looks back to Magneto looking away from the body. He's not used to seeing his own work in the bright light. "I stay at Williamsburg apartments." He notes, and then tilts his head, "A repor-" cutting himself off, "Yeah I'll get it done." He says with a nod before he starts to turn to the door. This week has been full of unexpected events.
Magneto nods. "The Williamsburg apartments." He regards Shiff's body, still in that thoughtful, malicious mood of his. "Come back the day after tomorrow. I'll want to speak to you again, young Vincent. I may have a task for you… and I suspect you will want to do it."
And if you thought his last smile was nasty, this one outshines it by a magnitude.
Vincent turns to leave the man without another word and once their line of sight is broken, Vincent gives a visible shudder. Magneto commands such a presence, he's intimidating while doing so little. Vincent would be in awe of himself if he didn't need to change his pants. He continues out the building, making mental note of where it is, for the meeting in a few days.
