2013.06.05 - Fast Data

Late afternoon, Trenton, New Jersey. The sun's starting to fall behind the city skyline, painting the clouds a vivid lava red. One might attribute the sound of a high-revving engine and squealing tires to be a normal part of life in the run-down sections of Jersey. This time, they would be wrong.

Fading sunlight glints across the matte two-toned black finish of a YZF-R1 superbike as it leaps through the air, taking a shortcut through a failed apartment building complex. Wheels touch down in a plume of dust and dirt as it fishtails in search of traction, gravel pinging against rusting I-beams and chunks of crumbling cement.

It's the perfect time for Domino to place a call. The earbud lets her keep the call hands-free, for the most part. For as good as microphones have gotten there's still no masking the whine of the bike's engine or the whipping sound of wind. She's not wearing a helmet. Bad on her.

"C'mon, Blue. Stop teaching drama and start living it."

There is only so much 'I am a rock' or 'I am a tree' that even Kurt can stand, much less his class. As a matter of fact, now, with the end of the term so close, it's more.. improvisational comedy. A 'Whose line is it anyway' sort of thing.. and with the cafeteria serving burgers from the grill?

Perfect time to end class.

With a plate loaded down with potato salad, chips, and a few cheeseburgers (with the works.. pickles, carmelized onions, lettuce, tomato..), Kurt's got his plastic utensils.. and a soda held in his tail. Settling down at the table, the elf only gets the first couple of bites of burger when his phone rings.

"Mrrrrffs.." is given first, as an acknowledgment.. phone in one hand food in the other. There are a couple of seconds that pass before he finally gets to swallow, then, "Hallo.. wo bist du?" Kurt can hear the wind.. and glowing yellow eyes narrow.. "Tell me you aren't .. retreating to a better position.." How's that for a 'Hi, how are you?!'...

Mrrrf? What kind of response is that?

Not much better than the chirping of tires across sun-baked pavement, or the honking of a car that, legally, had the right of way.

"Move it or lose it, idiot," Domino mutters under her breath before the call finally 'goes through.' "Retreating on a bike, are you crazy? Not a chance in hell! I don't retreat, I push the offensive. By the way--"

Screech!

"--you're still collecting data on mutant research, right?"

There's the bait, dangling in the still water. She alread knows what the response is going to be but she gives it a moment to settle.

"How quickly do you think you can make it to Trenton? Say--three miles down East Grove--"

Shriek-Wrrrrrn!

"--ah..better make that ..shit, what street was that, Charleston? Just passed the abandoned L and H Tool factory. Eat quick, I've got an ETA of approximately two minutes and ninteen seconds at my current bearing."

Estimated time of arrival? Nope. Estimated time of attack.

Kurt listens to the sound in the background, and there.. there's the bait, and he knows it. You know it. "Ja," he begins slowly, and he's now looking at those around him. Time to keep his tones easy, and conversational.

"Now, where are you.." Beat. "Ach.. ja.." Kurt knows it the location, for the most part. With street addresses, it's even easier.

"I can make it.. hold on."

Now.. there are many modes of transportation available. But when there's a time constraint? There's no question, and the words 'I can't make it' never, ever occur to him. Ever. Nor will they ever.

With a rather doleful look at his plate, his tail sets the soda onto the table before--

Bamf!

That is repeated three more times.. and each time he lands, it's for the length of a beat of a hummingbird's wing before he's gone again.

Bamf!Landing finally, Kurt checks his phone.. and mutters softly as he sees his 'home' screen. "Have to be quicker next time..". The connection is dead; how to beat the satellites and towers! (A challenge!)

Scrolling in his call log, Kurt finds the listing, and presses the little spot for the call to go through, though he stares at it for a moment. Just to be sure the call is going through.

Of course, those around him are, well.. staring. Here, a blue, demon looking.. thing (WITH A FREAKING TAIL!) just appeared out of nowhere, and is staring at a cellphone?

It all happens so quickly that Domino doesn't realize the call has been severed. With the ticking in the speaker wedged into her ear she mutters "Well isn't this a bloody grand time for a conference call," patching it through without checking for a number. "Little busy right now, leave your name and number at the sound of the car horn--Oh, it's ..but we were just--"

Whatever.

"Riddle me this, Blue. You ever port onto the back of a bike topping one forty? Or faster..? Better go with faster."

The sound of the engine can be heard through the valley of decrepit, run-down buildings like a synthetic banshee. Ten thousand revolutions per minute, and climbing.

"I'll catch you up once you're here." Phone lines, never secure. She's worked for Oracle, she's learning just how insecure communication lines are of late!

"It's me-- ja.. ja.. I know. I couldn't keep the connection. No cell reception in Hell, apparently. Next time I'm there, I'll have to speak with them." Kurt's voice sounds as if he cracks a smile, his tones light. "Who said Verizon owns your soul? They don't have a contract there." Yet.

As for whether or not he's that good? Kurt takes a deep breath to consider your question, and he exhales softly. There's obviously no real time to consider it.. and what has he been saying? Time causes you to second guess yourself, and he really is that good. "I haven't, but I'm good at leading.. It comes from the circus.."

And there, there you are.. deep in the post-apocalyptic-looking streets, the roar of the engine echoing off the shells of the buildings. "You have it a little high, don't you?" The bike is screaming! "Testing your red lines, liebling?"

Still, those glowing yellow eyes look in the direction, and he turns and begins to jog in the direction in which he hears you. The moment he reaches the side of a building, BAMF! he's on the side of the building, and scurring along, his tail swaying out behind him.

Leaping across the street in a blue-black blur, Kurt sticks to the side of the building, and is gone from sight once again. "I hear you, liebling..." and now, his tones are a little softer, concentrating.. and in the next second, Hell and Earth stand still for him- they are one and the same before--

"Incoming!"

BAMF!

Kurt appears behind you, and immediately, his tail wraps about you, and his legs wrap tightly, his toes looking for purchase. Bikes like these rarely have those back pegs! There's a yank as physics is applied, and for a moment, Kurt is actually very concerned that he's going to pull you right off the bike. He wasn't travelling at 140.. plus..

"What, you don't use InfernalCell? Thought all the cool kids were using their service these days."

Yeah, Domino was figuring about as much. "Good time to learn, Fuzzy. If I throttle back I change my ETA and alter the odds, my window is now."

The nice thing about city barrens is that they're barren. Not much around for miles once you get out into it. Dead buildings, ancient graffiti, a return of nature in some instances. It's like Chernobyl but with a lack of funding rather than an abundance of radiation.

"She redlines at sixteen K, I'm only hitting twelve. Okay I lied, that was definitely fourteen," she admits as the tones audibly change pitch from another shift in the gearbox.

''What are the odds of him landing in the exact spot that he needs to be, again? 1 in 11,413, considering average bearing, altitude, velocit--oh, shit.''

Tires squeal once more as Dom works the brakes, shedding a good chunk of speed before there's the sudden addition of a Kurt behind her. The extra weight of a second body helps to keep the rear wheel from escaping the road but the sudden yank upon her middle, then her shoulders, then her hands, is still quite jarring.

"H-ACK! Sorry, got distracted."

Downshift, throttle open, and the two on two take off like a shot down the street.

"Sitrep," she calls over a sleek, armored black shoulder, "got word of a big rig full of goodies heading northwest around this area. They're incognito but I'm expecting them to have some manner of escort nearby. In approximately forty seconds they'll be in line with us on the turnpike, we've got no choice but to engage 'em there."

So..why the heck is she in the barrens and not on the turnpike? Seems like a bit of distance to cover...

"Expect civilian interference, there's no way we can keep this one clean but if you've got a mind to keep things minimal then I can handle the rest."

Yeah, Dom invited you along to act as crowd control. Deal with it.

"Ja.. that was definitely fourteen. I used to drive the Autobahn, remember," Kurt leans in now, his tail still in a firm grasp around your middle. "We're a bit distant from the turnpike, liebling.. because there is Olden there.. und.."

Even with full throttle, and no traffic (which Trenton only boasts in certain areas), the pair would be hardput to get there.

Now, however, with the information, the concern is definitely playing upon that fuzzy blue face of his, glowing yellow eyes blinking at the force of the wind. While you may not hear it echoed in his tones, thanks to the wind speed, it's there. Only.. he has to yell to be heard. "Big rig?" Shaking his head, Kurt's hands tense upon your side where he holds on, as does his tail; expressing his displeasure a little more tactilly, though it's just an expression of his emotion. It's hard, and for a long couple of seconds, perhaps he considers, or it could be that he prays for both his soul, yours.. and those who may very well be taken from this earth a little prematurely.

"Ich verstehe.." he begins, "Ich werde für ihre Seelen zu beten.." I will pray for their souls. "I'll make sure you are uninjured, liebling.. und they find the justice they deserve." By man or by Maker, he's not telling.

"We won't make the turnpike, though.."

The Autobahn. "We could really use one of those around here." But, distant? "Won't be a problem." They've got luck and teleportation on their side, what could possibly go wrong!

Busy intersections? None. Cops? None. Traffic lights (that work?) Ignored. On-ramp to the turnpike?

Eighteen miles out.

"I know a shortcut. And by that I mean I'm sure that I can find a shortcut in the next thirty seconds."

Confidence! It's sexy.

The ugly brown scenery of Trenton's slums flies past in a blur, the bike hydroplaning across a pool of brackish water by a clogged storm drain. The turnpike is out there, up ahead. There's just..not..a lot of ramp access in this part of town. As in, there isn't one. Improvization, it's a wonderful thing.

"So..this might be a bad time to ask this," Domino hollers against the wind, "but how good is your life insurance?"

There's a natural dirt hill up ahead, just off of the road. The one that has all of the trees and broken auto body panels covering it. A few degrees away from the rusty, ripped apart chainlink fence. It's not really a clearing so much as a path that squirrels might have made over the last few years. Good thing she didn't bring a car to this pursuit.

"Ja, I know.. but Americans have no sense of adventure." So declares the German!

Kurt grins, and he leans forward such that fuzzy cheek meets ear, and in the next second, he presses a kiss to your cheek.

"I am paid up, und I've left the boat to you und Amanda. The girls will have to fight over the posters und the swords." Does he even have to say that his mother doesn't get to collect on his life insurance?

Kurt leans back again, and as they tear around the streets of Trenton, a smile is growing ever larger, ever wider on the blue elf's face. His tail gives you a squeeze, and he murmurs softly even as the bike is aimed for the makeshift ramp. Just her luck that just a thing actually is there, and isn't chain-linked in a spot! Nothing like squirrel paths to make one feel as if they've hit the jackpot.

Kurt's voice rises in the wind, and he breaks into laughter.. pure, unadulterated, happy laughter. He's finding things.. brighter these days.

"Take a deep breath, liebling, und make sure you wave hello und goodbye to the hellhounds."

Timing is all important here.. and Kurt waits.. and waits for what seems to be an eternity, but in all truth, only a couple of seconds pass upon God's Green Earth before--

BAMF!

"You know, technically I was born in this country," Domino counters with a thin, black smirk. "Are you calling me boring? Because I can fix that."

Wait. What? She passes a quick goggle-shielded glance your way. "What girls?" Someone's been a little out of the Wagner personal life loop! She's had her own business (and hell, when doesn't she.)

Then he's laughing. Bad enough that he was praying before, what's gotten into him now? "If you're having a better party back there than I am up here then you'd better hurry up and send me an invite!"

Oh..oh god. Is he really going to do what she thinks he's going to do?

"I'm not sure that's such a wise idea..."

Across the sidewalk, through the parking lot, past the fence, -WHUMP!- up the hill, over railroad tracks, and..airborne.

Flying right toward the side of a plain white semi trailer.

"Oh..sh--"

BAMF!

"--it!"

Instead of colliding with the side of the trailer they snap out of alignment with reality, suddenly re-appearing on the road beside the semi at the same velocity as an instant ago. It's enough that she has to throttle back or risk completely overshooting the truck altogether, though the other few cars in the area are not happy at their little stunt.

"Timing!"

Now there's one more problem to figure out. How to take care of the truck without causing significant injuries to everyone else? First, support vehicles need to be identified. Fortunately, there's a real easy way to accomplish this part.

In a flash of matte black steel Dom flicks out one of her pistols, snapping one shot off and shattering the driver's sideview mirror. "We're closer than we appear, asshole."

"You do--... -ber when I to--... one?" Hooray for wind!

Of course, there's no real chance to finish the conversation; it's not the best when travelling at speed.. up a hill.. and what was that he'd told TJ the other night? Just.. be.

With the teleport, the bike lands with wheels on the ground, causing some of the regular civilian traffic to swerve in alarm, trying desperately to avoid a crotchrocket with an albino driving.. and a blue demon that is laughing like all hell was behind him.. (though, it's not.)

Not happy is an understatement. Worse than when the NJ State Police escorted a group of performance vehicles ripping up the Parkway at high speed last year...

"I'll tell you later--" is managed, and Kurt looks around, those yellow eyes glowing with pleasure. "Now, which.. ah."

So that's how they'll identify them! "They don't need the mirrors anyway. They'll still pass inspection without them.."

"Twenty dollars says they won't pass by the time we're done with 'em," Domino calls back with a quick but wicked grin.

It's followed with the crack of a rifle going off behind the pair, the round passing them by inches with a loud Snap!

"The Kia? Really? Guys are gettin' cheaper every year!"

The Yamaha pitches forward as speed is lost in a skip of the heart, swerving and ducking around the other side of the eighteen-wheeler before gunning it with another high-pitched whine. Five seconds of cover from that shooter, minimum.

"Oh yeah, and hang on!"

She takes the opportunity to destroy the other sideview mirror while she's at it, splinters of glass flashing in the dying sunlight as they fly past overhead.

Another quick look back gets her positive identification on three support vehicles, which she's quick to point out. "White Kia, brown Chevy pickup, silver Lexus sedan. Have fun!"

She waits for the next bamf before opening the throttle, lifting the bike's front wheel off of the road as her pistol comes around, perforating the passenger door right as the guy riding shotgun tries to level (what else!) a sawn-off shotgun in her direction. Auto glass shatters outward in an explosion but the pellets go high, what from getting shot in the lower leg by the pasty white biker bitch.

Kurt can hear it in your voice, he can, and he gives you a quick squeeze. The *whir* of a rifle bullet sings past him, and the demon with the glowing yellow eyes looks back.. and grins.. his fangs showing against the dark of his fuzz.

"I see you..."

With the burst of speed from the bike, Kurt leans into you, and again, he whispers in your ear again.. well.. whisper in a loud voice. "Roger, liebling.. I see them. I'll find you.."

BAMF!

Off the blue bamfer goes.. the pressure of his hold around you disappearing in the beat of a heart.

BAMF!

And there.. he appears in the Kia.. which, from the outside, begins to weave violently from side to side...

Leave it to the bad guys to carpool. More firepower, less expense. It's a car full of people, nearby another car full of people, nearby a truck with two more people (and possible goodies in the tailgate. Who knows what's lurking back there!)

The Kia crew are pretty freaked out. Suddenly their group of four is joined by a fifth. In a sudden and frantic round of 'okay, which one of you summoned the demon?' they try to withdraw weapons from the windows to turn them inside.

They weren't exactly the top of their class, this lot.

The one that took the first shot has a cut-down AKS-74, the stock folded to further shorten its length. Still bulky compared to a pistol, but fully automatic. Very devastating. Right now it's chewing apart the interior as a hail of lacquered steel casings clatter across the dash, the tiny assault rifle seeking out the blue monster that just decided to catch a free ride.

Demons like chaos, don't they?

Up ahead things are surprisingly quiet besides the whine of a bike engine, Domino slipping in front of the semi then weaving through the sparse traffic. Her target is a U-Haul trailer connected to the back of a van, its sides cheaply painted with the name of some indie band no one is likely to ever hear of again.

No Laffing Matter. Three guesses how much they had to snort before some genius came up with that one.

''Everyone loves music. Here's one I just wrote.''

Another pistol shot is instantly responded to with a sharp Ping! as the trailer hitch gets severed, disconnecting the U-Haul from the van. Twenty feet later and it's cartwheeling down the turnpike, hemmoraging band equipment all over creation.

The Lexus is lucky enough to take a bass guitar through the windshield, impaling the passenger as he's trying to take aim on the lone biker.

Demons love chaos.. and Kurt simply can't help himself. From the front seat to the back.. and to the front seat again, only this time on the front seat passenger's lap, and his tail rises to slide around the man's neck. "Who are you.. und why--


 * thump*thump*thump*thump*

The sound of full auto fills the car again, and before Kurt can get another question out, or even the beginnings of an answer, he's.. got to go!


 * BAMF*

The little Kia swerves off the road and onto the median, causing more than a little pandemonium as it collides with a couple of sedans that are trying to get around what is quickly becoming a fast-paced running roadblock.

Messy.. very messy.

That, of course, means that Kurt lands in another car.. the truck this time.. right between the driver and the passenger. "You know they make back seats for these now, ja?"

The smell of brimstone is enough to cue the meatheads that something is amiss. But when a blue demon appears in their midst? One gun comes around by the passenger- but not before the driver pees himself out of surprise and fear (and the lack of desire to want to stop on a Turnpike rest stop! And who could blame him?)

"Don't shoot, mein Herr.. you will hit--


 * bamf*


 * blam*

"--him.."

The driver's side window now is painted in bright colours.. from red.. and grey.. with shards of white in the mix. But, that's not quite the complete problem as the truck, too.. begins its careening into traffic..

Can I get a drumroll, please?

CRASH!

There's little left of the drum kit once the semi plows through the mass, nearly exploding the set into shrapnel while continuing to roll right on its way.

An electric keyboard lands somewhere near where the Kia is busy doing its high speed roll along the shoulder. That car is like a ball of tinfoil which was then painted white and filled with glass. Ugly in life, ugly in death.

Domino's got a new dilemma to work through. There's no telling how much of worth that semi is hiding, which means the best option would be to steal it altogether. The problem there is that she just bought this bike. She doesn't want to ditch it yet! Nevermind that she could just run out and buy thirty more of the things but it gets to be exhausting going through so much paperwork with fake aliases.

So, popping tires and letting 'er roll is out of the question. Shooting the driver, no go. Damaging much of anything is out of the question. On the upside, she can outrun the rig like it was standing still.

Kurt can help!

"Don't go anywhere!" she yells out to the semi driver before braking so hard that the back of the bike skips off of the road, the truck overtaking her with a wall of air threatening to disrupt her delicate balance.

The pickup goes flying past her left a moment later, already pitching forward before it starts to tumble and roll down its lane. Parts begin to pelt the highway, adding even more hazards. As if there weren't enough of those.

No Laffing Matter is pulling onto the shoulder, at least one of them weeping in hysteria over the loss of so much of their gear. Another had always dreamed of taking their show onto the road. He should have been a bit more careful about what he wished for.

The bike's back wheel drops back down with a jolt, starting to pick up speed right as the Lexus comes into range.

Blam!

Spak!

The bike wobbles for an instant, the woman atop it reaching around with pistol in hand to clutch at her side. And return fire. Emphasis on the latter.

Target acquisition. The three targets pointed out, Kurt's down two and there's one left. But, the yellow eyed, fuzzy blue demon is every watchful, and his teleport lands him.. behind Domino on her bike. He's grinning from pointed ear to pointed ear, and leaning forward, wrapping his tail around you, he simply says two words...

"Switch up."

The moment the words are uttered, there comes what must be the more than familiar BAMF, and Domino will find herself in the cab of the truck with the driver, and a certain blue, furry elf. It's not long, however, before the tail is disengaged, and wraps around the driver's arm, and he says simply, "You're coming with me," before yet another BAMF comes, leaving Domino with the trailer. The bike is left riderless for all of a couple of heartbeats, and at that speed? It's more stable than anything on the road!

Kurt appears on said bike, however.. though the driver isn't anywhere to be seen.

Now, for Kurt's part?

Both the fuzzy elf AND the bike suddenly disappear once again...

There's not an abundance of time to process this new piece of information as it lands on the back of Domino's bike.

"Huh?"

BAMF!

Why am I sitting on the truck driver's la--

BAMF!

There, that's better.

"I swear to god, Blue, if you hurt my bike..."

Oh..and there's that lovely little Lexus with the guy that shot her left. This time Dom doesn't grin. One hand palms her pistol against the wheel as the other goes for the shifter, carefully bringing the two vehicles into alignment...

The pickup truck's finally coming to a stop on the side of the road. While doing its destructive acrobatic dance something large came out of the covered tailgate. It's about six feet long, two feet wide and one foot tall. Solid grey metal. It's heavy, if the damage done to the road upon its landing is any indication. When the truck stops the peculiar piece of cargo continues to slide onward for another thirty-odd feet, left to lie alone.

There's an interesting bit of physics behind vehicle tires. They tend to move faster when they aren't rotating. It's what causes semis to jack-knife. The driver stands on the brakes, the wheels lock, the trailer sweeps out and attempts to overtake the cab. When used properly, and with luck playing the role of navigator, this can become a useful thing.

With a surge the big rig's wheels go from freely spinning at eighty miles an hour to attempting to stop several tons on a dime. Sure enough, the trailer starts to sweep out to the side. There's only one thing left to get in its way.

A silver Lexus.

-WHAM!-

There's barely any warning before the sedan gets swatted clear off of the road, slamming into then leaping over the outer highway barricade.

Gone.

Gone.. the blue, fuzzy bamfer is gone. One might ask, 'Where in the hell is he?'.. and technically, they'd be correct.

That's exactly where he is.. kicking up dirt in Hell. Just for a moment.. and getting the high performance bike to stop is more than a little hard without locking up the front brakes and flying over the top. So, it's ease.. and back brakes, touch the front.. back..

Finally, Kurt brings it to a full stop. Brushing himself off with a flick of his hand, his head raises, those glowing yellow eyes searching before,

BAMF

Kurt is gone once again.. but now, he doesn't quite have the momentum he had. Obviously.

Seemingly returning in the next SECOND after departing (Hooray for time differentials between Hell and Earth!), Kurt appears on the median of the road in about the same location he'd left. Only this time? He lands on TOP of the pickup truck- thus prooving that he doesn't get stuck inside things regardless, if he knows where he's going.

It's a long couple of heartbeats that passes as Kurt takes stock, and he catches the dance of truck and Lexis.. and winces, though he can't help himself. Liebling, you amaze me..

The moment passes, however, and in the next second, the blue bamfer is off once again, on the move. He takes a running jump, a leap into the air to avoid traffic before-

BAMF!

He's gone, only to reappear on top of the large object that is in very real danger of getting run over.. or at least hit. It's a split second before he, and that navigation hazard is pulled off the road and.. goes somewhere...

Waiting. Waiting... "Huh. He's usually back by now."

Domino goes to look out the sideview mirror before remembering that they're both missing, thanks to her. There's a quick roll of pale blue eyes, uselessly flopping a hand across the wheel. So much for that idea.

"Great. Now I'm flying blind."

But not alone. The truck did have a passenger. She also shot him. Turns out he's not quite dead yet. It's only in her peripheral vision that she sees the shotgun coming around before the wounded man can end her.

BLAM!

The cabin flashes as another window shatters outward in a rain of pebble-sized chunks of safety glass. Fast reflexes. Body armor. The albino lives. The guy with the pump-action, he's at a slight disadvantage.

Four more shots end the confrontation, each one taken extremely quickly. It's possible that she's just a little ticked off about having forgotten about the guy.

Gun still in hand Dom taps redial then goes back to clutching at her side, muscling the rig toward the first exit from the turnpike that she comes across. She's gotta get this thing off of the road and into cover. Fortunately, much of Jersey's urban area has empty factories in abundance. Pick one and park it.

"Where the Hell did you run off to, Kurt..."

It's true. Kurt usually is back by now. He's in the rear of the truck at the moment, and even with his balance? There's no staying on the floor of the trailer. Leaping up to the ceiling of the trailer, it's a little easier to hang on, remarkably, his tail swaying.

As he gains his breath, believing that all is well for the moment, the phone rings.. and he blinks.. and stares, looking around for a moment. It doesn't quite register that it's his phone that's making the noise until he looks at the caller ID.. and sighs. With a quick poke at the screen, Kurt begins with "Ja.. I am--"

BAMF

The fuzzy blue teleporter appears in the cab.. in the middle of .. goo. Red, viscous .. iron-scented.. goo. And the guy doesn't look all that healthy.

"--here."

Crossing himself quickly, Kurt offers up a quick prayer for the dead.. more than one before, "Liebling.. I'm here.. what do you need--"

Domino grimaces slightly as you return. She doesn't need to look your way to know that you're back, and she definitely doesn't need to look to know what you just landed in.

"Don't pray for that asshole, Blue."

Her armor isn't the toughest substance on the planet. It's not meant to be. The buckshot managed to get deflected but left markings across the glossy black sheen and chewed up a few belts on her combat harness. The wound in her side is harder to find, she's keeping that one well covered, though as nonchalantly as she's able. Pain comes across as concentration upon her face.

"I needed to know where you were before I took this thing to ground. Not sure what you pulled back there but it seems to have worked."

While slowing the rig down on another barren side street she passes a quick glance your way, a fresh white streak across her ballistic goggles from an errant pellet. "Where'd you park it?"

Her bike, that is.

You've had a great deal of practice at hiding wounds. The bits and pieces of shell bite can be seen, but obviously not the bigger. Nope.. and his attention is pulled in more than a few directions at the moment. You seem to be driving fine, and the sound of your voice doesn't betray too much.

"I would have caught up." Can't lose a teleporter, no matter how hard you try!

It's not easy to kick back and get comfortable. Not when there's blood all over, and the passenger is still present, though no longer bleeding out. Shifting such that he's a little closer to you, rather than the former 'him', he can see that extra damage to the glasses. "Liebling.." he begins again, those yellow eyes narrowing as he takes a moment- before he's sent off in another thought direction.

"It's in Hell." It's a simply phrase, and the elf follows it up with explanation. "It would have taken too long to stop. Couldn't do that on the road. Too long to bring it back home.. so, I took it somewhere where we could get it back easily." He can, anyway.

"That was some driving.. the trailer as a tail.. but," here, Kurt's voice drops. "Are you injured?" Are you looking a little paler than usual?

Another thin smirk falls upon Domino's face. "Yeah. I know."

There it is. She also knows the tone your voice has shifted toward. Fortunately the train of thought doesn't stay its course beyond the first word voiced in concern. She's not sure what ran interference but she's glad for it all the same.

Especially because now she gets to be ornery again. "You parked it in Hell?! That doesn't sound very smart!"

The upside: Free parking. It won't be coming back covered in tickets.

"So long as you can bring it back. I forgot that you know how to ride."

The compliment sees a return of that subtle look of amusement, "Learned that trick from time spent hanging around your fuzzy butt."

Then the question is dropped. Interference has run its course. As light as her amusement had been before, it's even less now. "I'm fine."

Sooner or later she's going to need both of her hands for driving. As luck would have it the worst wound isn't facing the door, it's facing your way. Not even Dom can win all of the time. There's lots of gore inside of the cabin though, maybe it'll miss a cursory examination. Big maybe. But, she still has to drive. The pistol gets tucked back beneath an arm then she reaches for the shifter, pulling the semi into an empty warehouse that's got two inches of standing water across most of the floor.

A quick hiss of the airbrakes sounds out as she parks the beast, not looking your way when she opens the door and moves to drop down with a light splash into the murky water. "Let's go check out our haul."

"Of course I can bring it back," Kurt's tones sound a scoff. He pauses for a theatrical moment before adding, slowly, enunciating each as if he's reminding himself of a fact, "I can bring it back.."

Now, however, as you pull the trailer into the warehouse, there's no much chance that Kurt isn't going to drop any of it. Particularly as you manipulate the shift; he can see something of the injury, and he doesn't look pleased. You're hurt.. and beyond that? It's you that's hurt. And while he doesn't hover, he doesn't give in to his desire to fuss, it will be addressed. In short order.

"Ja,"

bamf

Kurt takes hold of you and lands you on the ground gently and easily, his tones conversational and possibly deceptively light. "I was very impressed. You'd be dangerous with a real tail." The moment that's done, he gives you a meaningful look before he leaps up to the side of the trailer, and then races along the top, tail waving behind him as he moves on all fours. "When this is done, liebling.. back to the boat so that I can check to be sure you're as fine as you say."

Why did you just catch her..?

''Fuck. He knows.''

Domino pushes the matter out of her mind while heavy boots tread through the filthy pool spread out across the floor, listening to the sound of you running up and along the trailer as she draws that sidearm once more. Trailers are locked. Always locked. As far as she's concerned that's one more reason why the arms industry invented armor-piercing bullets.

"Just drop it."

A quick change of mags. Rack the slide, catch the ejected hollowpoint out of the air, take aim and -Blam!- The gun finds a temporary home upon the bumper as she pulls the mangled pieces of lock away, slinging them aside then rolling up the trailer gate.

Crates. "Can't say I'm all that surprised. Hang on."

Dom climbs inside and removes a flashlight from herself while strolling down the narrow center aisle, randomly picking one of the shipping containers to break open.

The tone on her voice sounds ornery. Defeated.

"Easy Cheese."

She flicks the cap aside, letting it bounce across the floor as she takes a hit of compressed cheese product.

Now, if I were moving samples of mutant DNA and wanted to keep it hidden, what would I do? The albino hesitates, rolling the not-cheese against her tongue while glancing back down at the can in her hand. Think more Dennis Nedry.

Blood-slicked fingers come up to the base of the container, twisting it and popping it open. Inside are a number of tiny vials, safely chilled.

Another can is pulled out of the crate then tossed back your way. "Bottom's up."

Just drop it.

There, right there, is telling, and blue lips tighten to a thin line as he moves out of the way for the quickest way to open. He could probably have bamfed the lock off, but.. shooting something when he's poking is cathartic. And as long as it's the lock you're aiming off?

The door creaks open, and padding back, hangs upside down in the opening.. and he keeps walking as if the ceiling is still the 'floor'. "Fromage du l'aerosol," Kurt offers, a hint of humour in the words, though the overall concern hasn't departed. "Spray cheese."

"You know, the sooner we get that taken care of, the sooner it'll stop hurting, liebling."

Kurt doesn't need the flashlight, and he keeps his eyes diverted from the light's beam. "What-- oh, mein Gott... unglaublich.." Who would think to hide the stuff in Spray Cheese? Really?

Kurt will be checking his cheese and crackers a little more closely in the future. Catching the throw while he drops from the ceiling, he lands easily and opens the bottom after checking to see how it's done. "Where was this.." and twist "..headed?"

"I said drop it," Domino nearly growls back with the continued prodding over her current condition.

Besides, there's something else to focus on. The mystery box. "Can't say I'm a fan, either. Now where the hell did this come from?"

The samples get tucked back into the base of the container in her hand before that, too, gets lightly tossed aside. The big, heavy box has her full attention. "Looks like there's some latches around it. Never hurts to try, right?"

Still choosing to ignore the hurt she investigates the latches further, figuring out how to crack them open without too much difficulty. They were made to be opened again.

It's easy enough to see why once the lid is muscled aside. There's a person in there.

A mutant.

Soft orange skin. Light silvery-grey markings. She's been dressed in something one might expect to find in a fetish club, specifically the back room. Whoever put her inside of the container had also secured her with heavy metal shackles, allowing no room for movement. If the box was soundproofed as well then there's nothing she could have done to alert anyone that she was inside.

Too little, too late. A deep gash has formed in the top of her head, black hair matted down with blood. Checking for a pulse would reveal a very faint one, she doesn't have much time left in this world. She barely survived getting thrown from the back of the truck.

"Shit. We've got bigger problems, Blue."

Drop it.

Of course Kurt won't. He's a pest. But, he's also a pest with priorities. You won't drop dead any time soon, and at one point, you're going to stop. One way or the other. Fatigue. Booze.. and he'll have his chance to pull the shot out, and if need be some sutures added to the mix.

Still, at the moment, God forgive him, the elf's attention is on the mutants that were .. potentially killed for those specimens.. and with the addition of that box? He helps you muscle the top off, not wanting you to stress and strain, causing more blood and trauma than is truly... necessary?

The moment it's off is the moment when Kurt crouches beside the box, kneels, and once he quickly crosses himself, reaches out to check her pulse, and his hand brushes against her cheek. "You are safe, liebchen.. among friends now.. und we will help you find your way home." He's not lying.. home, however, could have many different definitions. Raising his gaze back to you, those glowing eyes are.. sad. "Ja, we do.. und this has to stop."

It's time, but for what?

"Let's secure this, und get her to.." Beat. "Mutant Town." Kurt doesn't want to bring her to Xavier's.. because there simply isn't enough information. Not yet. "The hospital there." He pauses a moment before he reaches for his phone.

"Amanda has potions. We may be able to save her yet." Beat. "Und help you."

Perhaps the hospital, then, won't be the first stop, but rather.. Amanda's. Whether or not anyone is home!