2013.05.30 - Genosha: The Uprising Begins

Genosha is not a pleasant place to be. Especially not for the mutants captured at the raid on the Mutant Action Center. Erik had been captured, well and truly- the last Mystique had seen of him, he'd been dragged away in chains of a non-ferrous alloy, with armed guards escorting him. Clearly, they were more than prepared for his eventual capture.

Corraled in with a dozen other street mutants, the room is barely large enough for all the prisoners to be on their feet at once. No tables or amenities are provided- mere bunk racks with worn mattresses and no blankets. Everyone had been strip-searched and their personal belongings taken, and inhibition bracelets affixed to their wrists. The younger and less experienced mutants, most of whose powers tend to violent displays, can barely manifest a spark of power now.

For Olena, the eighteen hour flight was a cramped and uncomfortable affair. Still, she had managed to sneak into the most heavily guarded part of the Humanity First central base- and armed and prepared, to boot. Having infiltrated past the guards and entered the utility and ductwork system, she has a view into the security room, monitoring the cages where Mystique- and fifty mutants total- are being held between 'interrogation' sessions. Once every so often, a mutant is hauled away via a different path, and those mutants are not seen again.

It took a fair bit of discipline for Olena to survive the 18 hour flight across the world. The cramped space reminded her of the solitary confinement cell she was occasionally stuck in, in Poznyar. And those are NOT good memories. The one saving grace was that Sentinel's body wasn't a sensory deprivation chamber of any sort. She could feel. She could hear. She could smell. Okay. She couldn't see much, but there was a little light. So, she survived.

Since then, it's taken a fair bit of discipline to keep Olena from breaking her stealth and silence to go after the guards dragging the single mutants away to fates unknown. But, she's Eastern European. She's got self-discipline in spades. And, her priorities are clear. Mystique is certainly chief among them. Thus, stretched out in duct, her body spread enough to reduce the load on any one pressure point, she peers through the grate at the guards that monitor the monitors, assessing the most efficient way to unburden them of their sorry existence.

Ever since arriving to Genosha Mystique's been playing her game. She allowed her captors to drag her in, process her, then tuck her away along with all of the others that got rounded up during that raid on Staten Island. The bracelet is a slight problem, but there's a solution to every problem out there. One way or another, they would not be able to keep her here for long. Besides, she's not in any rush to escape this place. Time here has proven to be most beneficial, already.

It's given her time to learn.

The guards that roam these halls. She knows their names. She knows their shifts. She knows their voices, their mannerisms, their interactions with the other guards. In short, she's gotten completely inside of their heads simply by watching and listening. No power is necessary for such talents to function, she's simply that good at what she does.

The inhibitor bracelet won't do a thing against a dislocated thumb. It'll hurt, but as soon as she can cast that offensive piece of technology aside all will be fine once again. Now it's a question of what to do with the other mutants she's been packed into a cell with. Solitary is so much more easy to break out of. With these guys, all it takes is one that fails to play their part or allows their pokerface to falter to ruin her plans.

Patience, then, is key.

The weak part of any operation is the 4 AM guard shift. It's just a part of human nature- it's the lull in the circadian rhythm that is unavoidable. The midnight crew is at the bottom of their game, and their replacements aren't due for two more hours. Officers rarely come by for inspections, so as often as not, guards shirk their duties for a hand of cards or a quick nap. Protocol is let lapse, and it's a problem endemic to every society the world over.

The guard in the monitoring station is taking his 'morning' nap while his partner reads a magazine, keeping a scant eye on the monitors. It's quiet tonight- no fights, no incidents, and a perfect opportuntity for Olena or Mystique to make their move.

Where Erik is, however, is anyone's guess.

Olena considers her options. And then considers the vent grate. The vent gives her a splendid view of the room, really. And the backs of the guards' heads. Which means they're not looking at her. From within the inside of her string guard cuff, she pulls a small tool Mystique suggested would come in handy. Patiently, she loosens the vent screen, the screws clean enough to not create more than a tick or two of noise that sounds like nothing more than the HVAC system settling. Once three of the screws have dropped almost soundlessly to the floor, the mutant girl using her ability to ensure they fall as quietly as the environment will allow, she carefully swivels the grate open and eases herself into the room.

She doesn't bother with her bow. Instead she uses a stiletto, puncturing the brainstem of the first (just as Mystique taught her), before spinning around and catching the other, mid-rise, through the left eye.

Pity, really. It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye.

Human anatomy is a curious thing. Sometimes dramatic results can come from the smallest amount of pressure, properly applied in just the right location...

Crik!

Mystique barely flinches, her blue jaw firmly set as she twists her slightly disfigured hand out of the bracelet. Before it has a chance to strike the floor her thumb is back to normal, at least in physical placement. Now it's taken on the form of Rudie, one of the evening guard crew, along with the rest of herself.

"Watch and learn, children."

Here's something not many mutants can claim to do. Mystique steps right through the bars. Not in a phase shift sort of way, she simply rearranges herself until she fits, warping her very dimensions until she's standing on the other side.

Rudie adjusts his hat in a mock salute toward the others still caged, a malicious grin sneaking across his face as he turns and briskly walks down the hall. Step two: Find a way to free the others. Lost, angry, and back in control of their powers. Who could ask for a better distraction?

There are lots of buttons on the monitoring station. Buttons that can open doors, close doors, control sections, manage traffic... prisons, even ones as intolerable as this detention facility, are essentially population control centers. There are times when it's necessary to open all the doors at once, and times where it's necessary to lock certain sections off. From her location, Olena can play merry havoc with the security systems.

It takes less than a minute for Mystique to run into the other guards. "Rudie?" one of them asks, squinting. "Hey man, I thought the sarge wanted you down in C block like, ten minutes ago." He glances sidelong at his partner, then lowers his voice. "Look, if you're gonna fool around with the prisoners, that's your business, man. Just don't be stupid about it. Sarge catches you letting them out of their cells, he'll come down on you like a dropped volvo," the guard confides.

As the bodies slump in their chairs, Olena uses a foot to push those chairs away, their wheels grating on the tiled floor. She turns the monitors in time to see 'Rudy' squeeze between the bars and amble to meet the others. A smile touches her lips.

She grabs the arm of the nearest corpse and twists it to dump the body into a corner, snagging the chair with her foot and settling in it, in front of the computers.

So many options!

It takes a moment or two for her figure out just what she needs to do to find the command screen. Oh. It's F12... Who knew? From there, it's another few moments for her to scan the words on the screen and determine which of the myriad buttons she needs to press to start opening cells and disengaging the facility's suppression bracelet network.

She starts with the cell block where Mystique currently stands in disguise. Happy Independence Day. (A little early.)

One of the best tricks a person can use when playing the spy game? Don't act. It's quite simple, by Mystique keeping herself relaxed and not so quick to reply she hears even more from the other guard and can adjust her strategy on the fly, aiming for maximum impact.

"Hey, for some of those..? It's worth the risk. There's that one with the scales, exotic doesn't begin to cover it. Then there's that redhead, with the glowing eyes?"

CRACK!

The other guard drops to the floor, twitching.

"She's a real tough customer."

Mystique hasn't traveled far. The sound of other bracelets falling to the floor can be heard over the silence that follows her momentary interaction with the downed guard. Any useful equipment that he had upon his person now becomes hers, replacing the fake copies that had made up her morphed disguise a moment ago. She's almost giddy while strolling back down to the other cell, making sure that the horde is released good and proper.

"Playtime, guys. Make sure they don't get back up."

The cell doors start opening, and the warning alarms start going off. There's the pell-mell of feet pounding, guards swaming in from adjacent areas. Whatever security system is in place, it is clearly designed to ensure that whatever Olena's attempting doesn't happen.

The internal commlink system dials out to several locations. One of them is labelled 'MaxSec'. It's clear that there's a second jail in the facility, one that is separate from the group that Mystique found herself ensconced with.

As the guards come running, the mutants with that very woman start cutting loose- with fire, and thunder, and powers great and small and terrible. Most of them are the secret members of Erik's Brotherhood, trained irregularly and without great discipline. They are overwhelmed by the backlash of their own powers, imprecisely used, and the threat of conflagration grows with each step. Either they must make it to a larger area, or the hallway will prove to be a killing ground.

Olena looks up at the alarms sound. She swears softly in Ukrainian and scans down the button list again. Huhn. A click or two later and she's locked down the security office where she is, rendering it fairly impregnable, in case the other guards want to come party with her. Basically, the override command locks out all their keycards and mechanically engages additional locking mechanism meant to keep superbeings from breaching the last bastion of safety for the human overseers.

Once she's sure of her own safety, she starts playing again with the prison locks. Oh, look. A colour coded display map. With touch interface. That's SO much easier.

Humming a happy little tune, the psychopath-in-training starts touching little red dots and turning them green... so that more doors and corridors open up, releasing more mutants and conveniently opening foot travel between blocks to the mobs.

As chaos reigns, she then sets about isolating 'Rudy's' com frequency so she can chat with her partner in crime.

That, as it turns out, is not Mystique's problem nor concern. As Erik would know, one must keep their eyes on the bigger picture, the endgame result. These children have an opportunity to learn and to grow, to become more in control of their powers and to retaliate upon the humans that wished to imprison them. Either they'll be strong and make it through or they will be weak and they will not. It's not her job to hold their hands and make sure they're safe.

It's her job to find Erik, with or without Olena's help. She's not done riding on the waves of power that particular mutant happens to resonate. His goals help to further her goals, ergo he's a useful piece to her global puzzle.

It was another fatal mistake on their part that they didn't throw her into max security right alongside ol' Erik. Subtlety is a useful tool. No one alive knows what all she's capable of accomplishing. Their loss, her gain. Exactly as she planned it.

Olena's becoming a much more useful player within this very game, that turns out to be a pleasant and unexpected highlight. "Enjoy your trip?" Rudie answers the com with an amused grin. "Leave the others to play, our objective is to find Magneto."

And perhaps something large and volatile which they can detonate for the grand finale.

As Olena opens doors, Mystique presses the stealthy assault further into the prison complex. There's only so many places within this facility that they could hide a Magneto.

Anyone with a sense of architecture can see that the prison is a set of concentric circles. As one draws closer to the center, the walls grow taller and the guard posts are closer together. Moreover, the guns are more often trained /in/ the walls than out- keeping prisoners isolated and creating interweaving fields of fire.

This of course plays merry havoc with the guards inside as the waves of mutants press forward, hurling fire and destruction ahead of them, gaining the high ground as they go.

There's a small building in the center of an open courtyard, perhaps half the size of the others. Access halls reach it, and under the moonlight, it casts little shadow. Here are the most guards, the most weapons, and the most security. And Mystique, Olena, and their band of mutant destroyers are cutting a course straight towards the building.

"The seating left a little to be desired," Olena notes, speaking Ukrainian still, since they both understand it and their opponents are less likely to. She scans the board, noting the MaxSec reading. "I believe, however, I have found pan Lehnsherr's location. At least, I have found the maximum security facility. I believe I can guide you there. But, I am having difficulty determining his precise location. I suspect it is underground. There is a secondary security office there that I believe will be more helpful."

Of course, breeching it could be a challenge.

"That seems quite likely. Stand by, this should only take a moment."

There's always a way in. Mystique takes in the news then swiftly tracks down one of the more destructive mutants that the two had freed. "You there. Care to lend a hand?" Rudie asks with a flash of yellow eyes. The lady has need of your services.

If Olena cannot remotely unlock it, if Mystique's stolen keys cannot unlock it, then it shall be broken, turned into dust. If she can find a security terminal then she should be able to patch Olena through, extend her reach that much further. Everyone loves a good network connection.

Security systems are much the same the world over. The defenses are strongest at the very heart and the very outside. Bypassing the outside of the defenses was, in fact, the easiest part- and the internal defenses are designed to keep mutants /in/, and in fact, encourage the swift advance of emergency response forces. Which, in this case, is Mystique's band of attackers.

Thanks to Olena's efforts, the perimeter guards have only a vague idea of what's happening- some kind of breach, but with no call for backup, they're standing watch, waiting to see who breaks out.

In fact, Mystique /does/ have the keys- the security system in the supermax facility is protected by little more than a door latch and integrity. It takes nothing for her and Olena to break in and subdue the guards.

There are only six cells in MaxSec; three of them are occupied. The monitors reveal Erik sitting rather calmly in a plastic chair, in a plastic room, and with leather straps holding his wrists in place. He seems rather sedate, all things considered, despite the pair of massive ferromagnetic interferons flanking his position.

One of the other lieutenants in the band is giving swift orders- flankers here, guard positions there. He is one with a natural talent for tactical thinking, and a metal skin that gives him a commanding presence. The hulking man turns to Mystique and Olena, hands on his hips, as the mutants with less awesome powers grab firearms and explosives. "Orders, Mystique?" he asks her in a gravelly voice. "We can cover your flank while you get the Boss. Once he's loose..." He smashes his hands together, a gleeful smile on his face.

Once Olena has done everything she can from that initial security station -- and it seems she now has -- she calmly collects the dead men's weapons and marks herself the most straightforward route to intercept and join Mystiqe. Sliding back into the vent, her small form makes it easy to pass, even with her quiver, bow, and the slim hardcase on her back. She takes a short cut to the main air exchange, waving lightly to a couple of vapor-based mutants who find themselves looking for a way out that way.

"Go that way," she tells them, pointing down a side passage. "It leads to the main office beyond the processing center." There's a door out of the facility there.

As they're left blinking behind her. She continues on to the corridor that looked the most promising and pops out of a vent with a strong twang of metal as the grate spins away from her hard kick and smashes a barricaded guard in the face. Again, dropping down, it's the stiletto and flying blades that do the trick, rather than precious arrows. "You're in my way," she says peevishly to one of the corpses before she yanks him away and squeezes out the door to dodge through the fray and catch up with Mystique.

She smiles as she finally reaches her mentor's side, and the mutant brute squadie reports for duty. "I do not think we have any more difficulty with guards in this section," she notes, sheathing her weapon, now that she's beyond the last of the fray.

That's the extent of security? A simple lock? Mystique could have picked it with a bobby pin and five seconds, flat! How could someone in possession of the Sentinel technology, and so many operational copies at that, be so lacking in home security? Something isn't adding up here. Security this poor should never be able to hold Magneto! It certainly did little to slow her down!

Then again, she's come to expect that much wherever she goes.

The arrival of the metal-skinned one earns her attention for a moment, all sly grins and wickedness as usual. Oh good, here's a mutant that knows his place as a team player (read: pawn.) "Do make sure that we have an exit, I fear Magneto may not yet be up to the task."

Olena's return in the flesh just makes things better. With the facility falling apart from the inside out Mystique completely ditches her disguise, it's no longer necessary. Lucky for these guys, today they'll get to see just what they're up against.

"We've found him. I will need you to disable the devices surrounding him." Oh yeah, and nice job. Olena's a good shot, she'll figure this out. "I will provide us some cover." Just as soon as she raids their armory, also conveniently located within this central structure. Such a poor move on their part. Now they'll all get to pay for it.

"My dear Olena. Mystique." Erik's smile is as broad and approving as it has ever been, despite how pale and fragile his skin seems. Captivity, it seems, has not been overkind to him. "Remind me to pay you both a fantastic raise when we make it home. If you wouldn't mind, terribly?" he asks, gesturing at his restraints, and the shutdown button on the interferon generators.

Once freed, he rubs his wrists, wincing a bit. There's a steely set to his jaw, and the bruises fade. His posture straightens, shoulders going back, his eyes brightening. The fantastic charisma that seems to bend the very world around him even returns, his posture assuming a commanding air.

"My friend, you may wish to consider shedding your mental skin," Erik informs the brute squad leader. "I'm about to attempt something... rather radical, and I do not wish you harmed."

He clenches a fist towards the massive metal machines, and steel and copper fairly fly at him. His other fist goes out the same way, and he stands with arms outstretched as metal screams and shrieks painfully, wrapping itself around his body like a second skin. A helmet swirls into existence over his head and slowly lowers, glistening iridsecently from the strange alloys present in the equipment. It lowers even as he floats into the air, a cloak of steel billowing from his shoulders. Only his eyes are visible- twin blue pools of ice in the deep shadow, filled with righteous fury.

"I think it's high time that we make a more profound statement to our would-be captors. Getting me in here was the difficult part," he informs Olena and Mystique. "Now inside... well."

Erik looks up at the ceiling, which explodes up into the air and flies away as if it were a tissue in the air. "Liberate our comrades in arms in the other cells, would you, my dears?" Erik asks the women. "I think I must attend the command staff. I'm quite sure the alarms are going off by now, and I should like to get ahead of their countermeasures."

Olena is more than happy to oblige with the freeing of the Elder Statesman of Mutant kind. Oh, hell yes. Her smile is wide and sharp and all it really takes is a flick of the wrist to send an object arcing in the right direction.

Once he is free, of course, she's further happy to go about freeing the remainder of their compatriots. She heads off down the short hall to where the last of the guards have barricaded themselves. Tapping the lock, she opens the door, staying behind its steel construction as they empty their clips. Once they have, she steps around and fires two plain shafts, putting them out of her misery. Then, whistling lightly, she finds the final commands necessary to open the entire facility to freedom... mayhem, and chaos.

There, from the doorway to Magneto's cell, is a familiar blue face framed with fire red hair, detailed with golden, backlit eyes that still manage to hold untold amounts of evil while having absolutely no discerning details, themselves. For that brief passing of time she's got her arms folded alongside the doorframe in a way that lets her rest her chin upon a wrist. "Naptime is over." Now this war is theirs, once more. Where it belongs.

On second thought, Mystique will wait to arm herself until after Magneto does his thing. Besides, she'd hate to miss the show! He's still got all of his power after all, that will make things so much easier for their retaliation. This facility, every non-mutant within it, all of it is seconds away from burning.

A dark grin is passed alongside to Olena. "This is why I leave the politics to him."

While their sniper makes her kills the metamorph arms herself to the nines. They aren't using any of it! It would be such a shame to leave such finely crafted weapons of destruction unused. Olena's handling guards and cells, Magneto's handling the upper echelons. That leaves her to organize the ground efforts.

"Step forth, children, and teach these monsters what it means to be a mutant!"

Sometimes being a motherly figure isn't all that bad.

What sounds like thunder cracking overhead washes over the prison facility. Lights begin to flicker and strobe, and computers work erratically. The hair on people's arms and neck rises and flickers as static energy washes over the facility, a byproduct of whatever fantastic power Magneto is working.

There's another explosive compression, and then, some silence for a long few moments.

Overhead, a face flickers in the crowd, light bending and flickering in a manner wholly unnatural. It's a cruel, shadowed visage, playing across the clouds flowing overhead, and a crude replica of Magneto's helmet.

YOU HAVE BEEN CONQUERED

The sound isn't so much loud as it is /huge/, the very air compressing against eardrums. YOU ARE DEFEATED. I AM MAGNETO, AND I HAVE RETURNED TO CLAIM GENOSHA!

There's another fantastic explosion- vast beyond all measure- and anyone looking out into the night over the central city of Fortress would see something awe inspiring, and terrible.

A towering structure, at least fifty stories, stands sentinel over the city below. A single solitary figure- tiny by comparison- floats defiantly in front of the building, hammered unrelentingly by blast and missile and fire. There's a tiny gesture, and the upper four levels of the building fold /inwards/ on themselves, then surge up into a fantastic spire, reaching some two hundred feet into the air.

Lightning crackles and surges, bolts of raw power lashing out systematically across Fortress. The very heart of the city, under siege, blasted apart by Magneto's raw power.

Right. So, the fight outside the Mutant Action Center, with the Sentinels, proved to Olena that Magneto was a force with which to be reckoned. This display of raw power, however, tells her the man is a walking God-on-Earth. Her large brown eyes grow round and little awed as his voice booms out from the heavens, the walls, and the very aether. A shiver runs down her spine, her skin responding to the crawl of the EM fields across it, beneath her leathers.

She says nothing, moving to stand beside Mystique. But a small, satisfied smile forms on her lips. Humanity is doomed. Long live Mutantkind.

She's good with that.

It has begun. The mutant revolution is starting here, now, upon the isolated island of Genosha. Mystique is proud to be a part of it. The work that she and Olena have put forth is all coming together now. This is their show, their victory dance. Starting with this island, mutantkind shall rule.

It's a thing of beauty. Death and destruction always precedes growth and evolution. Nature's way of saying out with the old and in with the new.

With that cold blue smile firmly in place, Mystique turns toward Olena with something approaching joy within her cloudy, manipulative stare. "Today you have helped write history."