Pizza Connection
Rplog-icon Who: Nightcrawler, Domino, Winter Soldier, Lex Luthor
Where: NYC Sewers and old train tunnels
When: 12 April 2013
Tone: gritty
What: Someone thought of a pretty disgusting, yet out of the way place, to store tomato paste cans filled with money and 'black market' mutants.


Cold. Dark. Wet.

The rain over the city for the last couple of days hasn't helped in the least in terms of ambiance. Pizza connection, nothing. There is no warm Italian restaurant serving freshly baked bread with large helpings of lasagna or ziti.. or even linguine fra diavlo.

Just cold. Dark. Wet.

A holding area newly discovered by Fernando Greco is being utilized.. with a vengeance. But, there has to be a reason why government types aren't moving in.. but no one is telling.


The vast network of tunnels below Metropolis can be confusing; no maps fully show the extent as they've been added to, walled up and broken through so many times that every time workers descend, it's an adventure in itself.

Add those side corridors, they are simply now holding areas for long forgotten train carriages that lie rotting; rusted hulks that are only good for homes for rats. Dank, brick and mortar corridors that sweat liquid that may be better to leave unidentified are cracked and crumbling- lit by weak sodium light. It's a recipe for.. getting lost. Badly.

That's what they are counting on.

This is definitely one of those times...

Domino got the call only twenty-six hours ago. Someone put a hit out on one of her fri--buddi--companions..? Yeah, companion will work. Normally she'd tell 'em to whistle Dixie, put on their grown-up pants and take care of their own business. When it comes to someone like little ol' Blue, to the tune of two and a half -Million Dollars,- she quickly discovered that she couldn't sleep. Not until having polished off an entire bottle of rum and thrown her sorry ass onto the next string of flights spanning the globe from Madripoor to Manhattan.

The things she does for free... Blasted conscience.

Of course, things can't just be that straight-forward. She's been wrapped up in Madripoorian 'politics' for the last month or such. What's happening in these tunnels tonight is something she's not even aware of. That she's packing blades, explosives, three handguns, and a pump-action shotgun, well.. that's just Domino being Domino. Besides, the last time she was down in these tunnels she nearly got eviscerated by giant, mutated cockroaches. So, you know. Screw that noise. Shotgun.

Once again her luck is about to throw another curveball straight for that giant black patch tattooed upon her face.



"... anyway, so I tell 'im about these tunnels down under Metropolis, back in New York," Fernando Greco's consigliere brags to the local women hanging off of him and the table full of disinterested criminals/businessmen, "... I tell 'im they're nice an' quiet, like, perfect in case... things... in case things've gotta go /down/, y'know? If y' got--scores t' settle, say. Real shithole, too, right under..."

A few feet away, the Winter Soldier - one of the other players' protection for the evening - tries to hide his frown while making a note of the tunnels' location; a tip is a tip, no matter how great or small.


Clad in a green florist's jumpsuit, the Winter Soldier - aka 'John' - creeps through the abandoned tunnels with little more than an ancient 9mm and the aforementioned jumpsuit to protect him from any impromptu gangfights or cockroach attacks that happen to break out.

The first is a risk he's willing to take; the second may well have been a step too far, had he known in advance.

Rumours of imminent trouble compounded with the news of Fernando Greco's recent activity and - somewhat to his chagrin - the drunken mutterings of an arrogant gangster brought him here despite the danger. So far, the plan is to treat the outing like a recon mission and find cover at the first sign of trouble; whether or not he'll actually remember it when or if bullets begin flying remains to be seen.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The constant condensation from the walls and ceilings doesn't make for a dry footing. It's slick, and puddles are everywhere; only problem is, who knows how deep they actually may be? Rails from old train lines also make tripping hazards.

Through the corridors, there are soft scritch-scritch noises; the not in any way, shape or form extinct New York City rat, no doubt.

Where one may look, shadows play games. Small creatures are made to look large in the dancing light that barely illuminates a few feet beyond its bulb, while large creatures- there are large creatures below? Large creatures may, then, look absolutely huge and more than a little monstrous.

For Domino, she's seen it before; the dim light barely making a dent in the dark, the sounds of.. who knows what (rats, sure.. but what else?) ever present just beyond that weak shaft of light. The rusted out carriages, rotting.. and there is a vague scent of.. decaying slime mixed with the sulfur of the lights. (Though is that from the lights, or-?)

Lex, as he descends, moves from sewers to background train utility tunnels, and further down into the deeper recesses of the city, heading back into the disused, abandoned tunnels. The light grows dim; ConEd hasn't visited this area for a very long time. Could still be the same Edison light bulbs burning! The scritch sound from rats grows loud, the occasion soft shriek as they have their resting place invaded sounding.

It's everything that the consiglieri said it is, and absolutely nothing like it. It's a shithole, most certainly.. and the perfect place to be when one doesn't want to be anywhere else- if that makes any sense. Even if it doesn't? The Winter Soldier gets pretty much the same; dank, damp, dim and dirty.. and that scritch sound..

Domino's not a fan of places like this. Sure, the history and architecture of the old, -old- city can be fascinating, but the whole thing smells like mold and defecation. And giant dead roaches. She knows this room well, pausing to sweep the shotgun's flashlight across the side of an ancient railcar where one of the windows had gotten blasted out by that very same gun not all that long ago. Not far behind lies the pellet-riddled corpse of a typical New York roach, if its carapace was a full twelve inches in length.

"Told ya not to mess with me."

She gives it a light cuff from the steel-toed cap of a boot, causing it to slide across the cracking tile flooring in a crazy splay of deadened limbs. "God, your smell hasn't improved any."

Not far away she gets the chance to admire the results of her singularity grenade, stepping into a pitch black artery where nothing but rusting rail tracks and the hundreds of severed bug pieces littering it remain.

If Nightcrawler even remotely thought like she did then he would have come this way. Where that scientist had set up shop, that's where she would start to find the evidence.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are..." she quietly mutters. Even then the sound carries, reverberating out into the darkness.

Lex Luthor says, "If only there were more time," Lex thinks as he peers at the old light bulbs that barely glow. Collectors would pay stupid amounts for genuine Edison bulbs. In a low tone he speaks into the walkie talkie, "I need more information on Greco." What he means, and Tess knows this, "Is Franco worth more dead than alive?" A dead body, carrying withstanding, always makes bounties so much easier. Less complaining, lower likelihood of escape for the bounty, conveniences like that.

Various screeches and skitters don't deter Lex. He's a man with two goals tonight and no mere vermin would stop him. However many notes are made to get properly vaccinated in the morning.

As the darkness starts to swarm him he fires a stray shot from his gun. Sure the sun setting may not burn as bright as the lethal, but it eats less of the battery. Seeing red lights cascade off the walls and down into the tunnel until the beam collides into a wall gives him enough of a clue. Visual memory is only sixty-two percent accurate within the first five minutes for a regular human. A superior intellect can bask in near picture-perfect clarity. He trudges onward keeping his ears open. One stray thought does linger and that's, "Next time the goggles will be functional." Night vision would be a big help right now."

"If only there were more time," Lex thinks as he peers at the old light bulbs that barely glow. Collectors would pay stupid amounts for genuine Edison bulbs. In a low tone he speaks into the walkie talkie, "I need more information on Greco." What he means, and Tess knows this, "Is Franco worth more dead than alive?" A dead body, carrying withstanding, always makes bounties so much easier. Less complaining, lower likelihood of escape for the bounty, conveniences like that.

Various screeches and skitters don't deter Lex. He's a man with two goals tonight and no mere vermin would stop him. However many notes are made to get properly vaccinated in the morning.

As the darkness starts to swarm him he fires a stray shot from his gun. Sure the sun setting may not burn as bright as the lethal, but it eats less of the battery. Seeing red lights cascade off the walls and down into the tunnel until the beam collides into a wall gives him enough of a clue. Visual memory is only sixty-two percent accurate within the first five minutes for a regular human. A superior intellect can bask in near picture-perfect clarity. He trudges onward keeping his ears open. One stray thought does linger and that's, "Next time the goggles will be functional." Night vision would be a big help right now.

Those scritching sounds send a chill down the Soldier's spine, and he doesn't really know why; he registers the vague unease and feelings of dread, but they're faint, hazy--more like fear remembered than proper fear. Maybe it's the New York-born boy buried beneath layers of brain damage and Soviet programming, shuddering at the memory of a tall tale told by flashlight.

Maybe it's just a Pavlovian response leftover from some particularly traumatic counter-interrogation training session; either way, whenever those sounds seem overly near, the Soldier is quick to press himself breathlessly against the nearest wall and wait for--whatever is causing them to pass. Or simply cease.

Just as he's allowing himself to exhale after one such potential brush with danger, a distant energy discharge followed closely by reverberating taunts set him on edge again; for most people as lightly armed as he, this would probably qualify as 'trouble' enough to merit backing off to safety.

The Winter Soldier, on the other hand, merely tries to muddle his way towards that distant voice as he trudges onwards.

As Domino moves past the familiar paths taken not more than a week or so ago, the darkness truly begins to descend and become a little more.. oppressive. The broken light that had been shot out earlier remains unchanged.

There is a moment that seems to freeze in time, however, and suddenly, coming out from the side, seemingly from nowhere, there is a strong push and Domino is met with a full-on push, flip.. and for a moment, the albino merc will see the world going around in a rapid circle.. above her, behind her.. and above her once again as she's got her legs out from under her again, a rather sharp sword held to her. Glowing yellow eyes peer into pale face, and while it may be difficult to discern a full face, the sound of his voice is undoubtedly familiar as he removes the sword and makes to kiss her nose, a smile now showing. "Welkommen, leibli-"

The red light flickers down the corridor, and Kurt presses down again, the dark of his fur blurring the light, bending it.. almost seeming as if the two disappear into the shadows for that brief moment. "Was ist das?" is whispered.

There is movement down the corridor in which Lex shot and as the stun goes off, it not only gains attention by some other visitors in the corridors, but also of the roaches.

The mutant roaches.

Not all of them were killed, nor was that the object of the last visit down.

One .. and then two start coming down a side corridor, the *scritch* becoming more and more clear. Large roaches, gleaming brown carapaces that reflect the barest gleam of the sulfur light.. and they're headed towards the nearest warm body...

And at the moment? That'd be James Barnes. Just his luck!

See, Domino would have done better with the lowlight goggles. Thing is, she doesn't really like the things. Everything becomes the same hue! They have their moments but she feels rather claustrophobic being stuck in old, tiny tunnels enough already without everything being drawn from the same color palette. Not that a flashlight is a huge improvement, but if three hundred lumens doesn't get her point across then little else will.

Currently all three hundred of those lumens are being chaotically thrown about as she's pulled right off of her own two feet. By the time the light -stops- moving it's revealing a patch of blue fur.

The barrel that light has been bolted close by to happens to be aiming at the head connected to all of that blue fur.

As is the barrel of one of her pistols.

"Goddamn, Blue! Tryin' to give me a heart attack down here?!" she hisses, quickly silenced by a wrinkling of her nose when he kisses the end of it. Yeah, hello to you, too.

The random shot of energy nearby would have made her look pale if she didn't already rival ghost status on a daily basis, eyes wide as her head and pistol alike whip around down the tunnel. "-Not- one of mine."

Then there's roaches. Thanks.. whomever made the noise and lightshow.

Pale blue eyes dart right back to glowing yellow ones, the merc imploring "Mind putting me down now?"

Setting the gun from stun to lethal, Lex smiles under the mask. "This worked out better than I thought," he thinks while observing the commotion from the roaches. No moves are made until the cockroaches get closer. No point in waiting ammo if they don't see Lex as a threat, right. If they see the man decked in yellow-green as a threat then the stability of their carapaces would be test. The energy beams are created to rival another energy beam that would be on the market if the owner wasn't so frugal with the technology.

When the persistent scritching sounds finally give way to skittering monstrosities, the Soldier is almost relieved, even if he can't quite put a finger on what, exactly, giant mutant cockroaches are an improvement over. What he /does/ know is that he doesn't particularly want to face them both down with nothing but an old Stechkin; given that they aren't leaving him much choice, though, he has to settle for trying to even the odds a little.

So as those roaches bear down on him, the Winter Soldier... waits. He's got his pistol gripped tight in his left hand, and he looks /ready/ to move at any moment, but he doesn't--until the roaches are within maybe ten feet of him. At that point, he sucks in a breath and jogs as quickly as the slippery floor will allow him too, directly /towards/ his hard-shelled foes, until he's close enough to spring into a somewhat awkward front flip towards the front-most bug.

The landing is an awkward one, and once he's up there, he has to scramble to get the gun shifted over to his right hand so that he can grab an antenna in his left; from there, it's just a matter of hanging on for dear life. Assuming that he can resist being thrown from its back long enough to actually line up a shot on the other roach, he'll eventually squeeze off a few shots at it, but there's a good chance that at least one, if not all of them will hit the walls.

Those yellow eyes flicker down the corridor, and Kurt lets Domino go, giving her the chance to do what she needs to do while he leaps up and attaches himself to the ceiling of the tunnel, very near the broken light. Narrowing his eyes, he begins to make his way silently, keeping to the shadows towards where the red light eminated from. Scouting! While in those shadows, Nightcrawler lives up to his name- he blends in with the darkness such that it seems to enwrap him in a deep cloak.

There are roaches approaching, and the first couple of them are headed towards James. Rats are scurrying ahead of them now, flushed from their 'nests', squeaking as they come towards Lex. This.. this is the first wave, and soon enough, the second, the hunters, will come.

Now, the roaches do approach James, and with acrobatics that would almost rival a rodeo bucking bronc rider, he's managed to get on the back of one of the worker roaches. Immediately, it begins gyrating.. its antennae trying to rip themselves from the grip of its rider. It stumbles forward, though now its partners, sensing that warmth, begin to come after the ridden roach.. but the gunshots? Most miss it completely, the flakes of brickwork tearing out of the walls.

This brough-ha brings other attention now; the red energy burst and the gunshots.. and from the darkness comes a beam of light. In the approach from behind Domino (from the direction she was headed!) comes two.. beings. One is in flight, winging his way with .. real bat wings, his dark hair covering a good portion of his face. The other, a large.. bruiser. He's rather large, imposing.. and looks as if he has his own gravitational field..

"What's going on here! Who are--" rumbles from the larger of the two even as the bat.. boy makes the first swoop.


Right place, wrong time. Domino found who she was searching for. Unfortunately (for them -both- now,) Kurt couldn't have picked a worse part of the underworld to turn into his hidey hole. Gunshots to the left. Meta thugs from the right.

"Just came to get my pal, we'll be leaving now, bye!"

And off goes the gunlight, letting the eternal darkness swallow up that network of the ancient subway system once more. Looks like it's time to put the goggles on, after all.

Now, those thugs, she doesn't know what's up with them. They could be down here for any number of reasons. Those reasons are also not -her- reasons. She has no quarrel with them. That's why she starts hurrying down the tunnel away from them, keeping close to Nightcrawler. She knows what happens when this tunnel gets full of giant, nasty bugs. It's not pretty. The work of her last singularity grenade will say as much. However, that means running toward the gunfire.

Well isn't -this- just a heck of a time for her luck to run out?

It hasn't run out -just- yet. As she's running she steps on the back of a giant roach, slips, falls with a stifled yelp, bumping the trigger of her shotgun as she lands. A blinding flash of light cuts through the shadows, steel pellets slamming into the ceiling, loosening up a handful of old bricks that had already been worked loose from the grenade used days back.

The meta with the bat wings that's been swooping in behind her might now be blinded by that flash. He also might find a pile of bricks raining down on top of him, with his target now safely out of his reach. It's funny how things can sometimes fall into place.

"I don't have time for this," Lex grumbled the voice heavy from the modulator's distortion. Holding the gun like a trained soldier, thanks to watching some military videos, he steadies himself, aims, turns the weapon to stun and fires off two bolts toward the bat-thing. The bolts should act like taking a stun gun shot per shot. IF both connect then there would be a sore a bat-creature would know how the "Don't Tase Me, Bro!" guy felt that fateful day.

Eying any potential results several mental notes are made for later. Data is still data afterall. Hopefully the stumble thanks to someone's bad luck would guarantee the shots hitting.

Turning his attention toward the big guy the gun is flicked to the lethal setting. Body mass hasn't really been calibrated so it would be interesting to see what this person would say. "Five seconds," Lex says calmly expecting to hear a story and his words to carry as much weight as they normally do in a Board Meeting. Sometimes Lex forgets the CEO status drops when stepping out of the big building that bears his name.

The clumsy women isn't a threat at the moment give her luck and ineptitude to hold herself upright in a sewer, and the one jumping about like an insane street performer is preoccupied with cockroaches. A stray thought does wander into Lex's head when noting the cockroaches, "Find out if I had anything to do with these things. Profit off of their creation and, or their eradication." This Big Guy is an unforeseen variation that needed to be dealt with which is why Lex is eyeing the, well whatever the guy is, down.

"Giddyup!" the Winter Soldier exclaims as he's tossed to and fro by the roach's wild bucking. "Heee-/ya/!" After banging the butt of his pistol against the thing's back/head a couple of times to little avail, he decides to try a slightly sterner form of encouragement:

30,000 volts delivered through the antenna grasped in his bionic left arm.

More gunshots ring out over the steady, high pitched whine building around his arm, and if one of those wildly fired bullets actually happens to hit a roach, he'll consider it a bonus; most of his eggs are in the 'force his unwilling steed to run towards the commotion up ahead or use its smoldering corpse as a barricade' basket at this point. It only takes a couple of seconds for a charge to fully build, and once it does, a bright red glow shines from beneath the bicep of his jumpsuit for just a moment before the whole sleeve is incinerated by the electricity that leaps from within to arc along the segmented, metallic surface of his arm. Most of the juice rather naturally flows towards his hand in short order to deliver the shock.

Commotion.. commotion? Really?

And the 'guards' have gone exploring, leaving the room unattended, as it were. With the sound and fury of the occurrances from without, in the tunnels, one by one, those in the room begin to come out, holding hands, and holding on to the wall. The blind leading the blind.

As for Kurt and his own little hidey hole? Nope.. this isn't his part.. and his map will (eventually) attest later. He only arrived here because he heard the commotion, and in a bit of fuzzy (elf) logic, it led him to believe that perhaps something in this part actually was meant for him.

And Kurt was right.

As luck would have it, both good and bad, Domino's got her groove on. The stepping onto the bug and sliiiiiiding (its nose crushed into the ground, leaving behind a trail of ever increasing goo..), does cause some imbalance, and her trigger finger finds purchase inside the trigger guard, thus setting off the full automatic.

Lines of pellets ricochet off the ceiling, loosening bricks and mortar, shards of which punches holes in the delicate fabric that is the bat-boy's wings.

As Domino's taking her slide, Kurt is running across the ceiling, keeping pace now, Lex forgotten for the time being as he works to make his rather hasty exit. Down that particular meta goes, and when its hit with Lex' stun? Drops like a brick and doesn't move. Out cold.. with any luck, anyway.

Fat boy, however.. he's a little less lucky. He comes face to face with Lex and his strange looking gun. As he opens his mouth to speak, finally Lex gets an answer to his earlier query from his secretary.

"Fernando Greco is a mob boss in New York City, and has assets in numerous parts of the world- Canada, Sudan, Somalia, Italy, Madripoor and China. Nothing has been definitively linked to him, though there is some talk about his becoming a little more active within his organization. No one knows why."

At the same time, fat boy growls, "No one's gettin' t'rough," and he reaches for that gun that Lex holds- his speed a little quicker than his bulk would attest.

Now, the Winter Soldier really needs to go 'on the circuit', as it were. Those volts that he is ready to pass through certainly gets the creature's attention, and it makes a leap, the wings opening briefly to give something resembling flight (though it's more like a super leap..) and the creature gets away from those other two trying desperately to eat him.

Now, some of those random shots do actually find their marks, but not by amazing marksmanship- rather, sheer luck. Is it rubbing off?

Okay, that..sorta works. As brick and mortar starts to rain down from the arched ceiling in clumps Domino pulls herself together, immediately realizing two things. Something just stunned the ever-loving crap out of Bat Boy. Also, her backside is currently covered in bug gore thanks to the one that just took a significant boot to the head in her passing.

Thank goodness for stain-proof armor.

There's an awful lot of people now running around inside of this tunnel. Dom can only assume that any of them (maybe -all- of them!) are here to cash in on the bounty stapled onto Nightcrawler's back. So, she's on her feet. She's got a Big Scary Gun aimed out to either side of herself. She also has no blasted idea where Nightcrawler ran off to, but if she lost track of him then everyone else here probably did as well. Silver linings. For now, she's making a stand. But, a stand against -what?-

Who the flippin' Hell does she shoot at first?!

"Hey! Can't we all talk this out?"

Dear lord, is that man riding a roach..? Y'know what, she really doesn't want to know.

"Catch," Lex mutters with the augmented voice. Instead of tossing the gun upwards the man snags one of the ammo cartridges and offers that up instead. Most people usually caught things tossed to them anway and Lex hopes that would ring true. Moving out of the way jerking the gun with him Lex just slides back to see what happens when a big guy crushes a container filled with energy. Maybe the guy wouldn't have a hand after the stable energy is turned into an explosive.

Domino goes unnoticed, so does the very strange sight of a cyber-limbed soldier showing off a secondary career, and the bat-boy would be looked after later when Lex's own life didn't depend on it. Hopefully the Big Guy would be stupid like most of humanity and go for the ruse.

The cockroach takes wing and leaps... into a showdown with bats and lasers and angry men and falling rubble. The star on his left bicep flickers once, then sheds enough dim, red light to let the Soldier get crimson-tinted snippets of the situation as he pivots this way and that. It's enough to let him see that there are four other bodies in there(at least, he /thinks/ it's four; the jury is still out on that gigantic--/thing/ with the wings) and cast an ominous glow across his features, and not much else.

"More'a these things on my heels!" he exclaims as the roach touches down. Rather than give it another shock, he releases the antenna to try driving his metal fist through the thing's carapace. "Roaches--gigantic!"

One after another come against the wall, in a line. The first of the line appears in the dim light, with each holding the next in line's hand.

Kurt.. he's on the ceiling above Dom, but is also doing exactly what he should be. He's blended in with the shadows and so is invisible, by all reckoning. Happy mutant power.

"I am here, leibling," Kurt whispers, "Above you.." He's certainly worried.. that 'stand' could get her killed!

Domino's got Lex in her sights, and .. the damned big roach.. which has a rider on its back?

Not for long, however, as the metal fist breaks through the carapace and is met with the resistance that is.. green, messy goo. The stench of it is.. some sort of awful, but death does come, and it begins to fall forward, as if allowing its rider to dismount nearer the ground.

Fatboy proves that human nature is the same all around. He does reach for the ammo cartridge, and stares at it for a long moment, his fingers crushing the case automatically. It was what he was going to do with the gun, so the orders from the brain to the hand are the same.

What does happen, then, is rather remarkable. There is nothing at first.. then a fizz.. then spark.. spark.. and a *whooosh* as energy is released. It takes out his hand, yes, in a rather spectacular mini-explosion, and follows up the arm. The only thing left, then, for the fat man to do? Scream and run.. right past Barnes and into the oncoming roaches.

More screams come from the fat man, the demands turning quickly into pleas, and cries for help.

"Aaand I'm talking to myself," Domino mutters. "So. Yeah. About the roaches..."

She doesn't many any great effort to be heard over all of the commotion. Honestly, she didn't want to have to explain it to all of these people. No, she's not responsible for them. But, the reason why she had been down here once already? She had been tasked with making sure the residing queen was dead (she was,) taking the secondary queen before she grew to an ungodly large size (which she did,) and removing all of the research data on these particular bugs from the makeshift lab set up a little further down this very tunnel (which she also did, for fun and profit!)

The client from that job is probably well into writing up his own 'discovery' notes on the whole ordeal, claiming all of the research and data for himself. Heck, whatever pays the bills, right? Dom couldn't care less if the guy dreamed of chitinous sheep.

Hey look! She found Nightcrawler.

"I have absolutely no idea what's going on down here." -BLAM!- Friggin' roach. "How's about we exit stage left and leave these boys to it?"

"There's a man somewhere down here. Where is he?" Lex gives a full description of the individual to the screaming man. "If you give me that then I will see that my employer compensates you for the lost arm. Don't give me what I need and you will loose more. Are we clear?" the voice calm, borderline emotionless like this is any other business transaction. "Now I will repeat, a man," the description comes out once more. "Have you seen him?" Lex is willing to take a cut with the others, who he presumes is out for the mobster too, because his data is too important. A stray bounty is just icing on a very valuable cake. Helpful thing that he is, the Soldier snaps his goo-slicked left hand out to snag the fat guy by the wrist, collar - basically, anything that he /can/ - before he can make it into the sea of mandibles awaiting him.

"You don't wanna go there," he hisses, shoving the guy forward. "That man made you an offer--listen!" He takes off running, then, assuming that the guy will keep up on his own; if he doesn't, well, that's on him.

"If there's an exit," he exclaims to Domino, "I'm going with you!" If he somehow recognizes her from the plane ride, or the arms auction gone horribly wrong, in this awful light, he certainly doesn't show it.

Kurt doesn't take a second before he appears right at Domino's side, and takes hold her waist with his tail. It's easier, in case he has to fight- after all, his swords are strapped to his hip.

"Off we go," he offers, and in the next second, the demon that fell from the ceiling and took hold of the merc? Gone.. in the beat of a heart. Only to reappear right next to the Winter Soldier. Kurt bears .. fangs at the man and takes a hold of his hand, murmuring, "Take a deeeeep breath.." before the three of them are simply.. gone. Poof. No more.

A man? A man? Fat boy is screaming as the roaches go after him, and he cries, "Idon'tknowohgodplease!" comes up. "I was just paid to watch a bunch of muties before they were moved!"

Finally, that line of people following the wall makes it around the corner, and the one in front pauses, blinking his eyes. "Hey!" he calls. "Hey! Which way is out?" Beat. "We can pay.. back in the room, lots of money. In cans.. which way is out. Tell us- we don't care about the money." Wait. -What?- Domino's hearing the description of a man being given, and nowhere in that description is there anything in reference to: Glowing eyes, blue fur, or teleportation powers.

There's a manhunt down here, -and no one invited her?!-

With a notable -Tik-Clik!- she thumbs back the hammer on a 10mm pistol, now leveling it at Big McLargeHuge's head. Yeah, the guy that's now missing a hand. See, this is exactly why she prefers not to arm herself with anything powered by Duracell.

"Answer the man. Blood loss is a nasty thing, and I'm just not that patient." Also: Roaches. -BLAM!- "Back off! We're negotiating here!"

Then the Roach Rider is offering to tag along while they make their exit. "Hold up, pressing business, take a number. Feel free to kill some roaches to pass the time."

Then again... This place is getting waaaay too creepy-crawlie for her liking. Lowlight goggles. Dark tunnels. Lots of LCD movement. Claustrophobic much? And Nightcrawler is right there and all, looking anxious to bamf the hell out. "On -third- thought..." Get to da teleportah!


Right up to Winter Soldier. "After carefully considering your request, we've decided to take you with us. Please keep your lunch in its downward position."


Noting the blue elf and the teleportation skill Lex now has someone else he wishes to successfully clone. A teleporting army would be a very good thing. Looking to the man missing the arm, "You will lead everyone out. Your employer no longer matters because in exchange for your life you will be working for mine. You will get your arm within three days. If your loyalty falters you will have wished I killed you today. Are we clear?" again the words are emotionless and they're filled with the coldest ice. "You will take their pay, use it to hide. Look for the arm and further instructions. Oh, and save your bat-friend. He's no good to me dead."

"Don't have," the Winter Soldier hisses as he slides past Domino, "to ask me twice!" He remains crouched just past the albino, and after shifting the Stechkin to his left hand, he sets about putting bullets through each beady eye he manages to make out in the darkness; his arm snaps sharply up and down, side to side between shots, with seemingly little time spent on lining them up.

Kurt and his familiar scent appear just as he hits empty; he doesn't fight the teleportation, or even throw up afterwards, but he does wobble, weave, then finally fall back on his ass upon trying to stand up once he's on the other side.

"Hh--what in the /hell/--" he grunts, trying to shake the wooziness off.

"They'll... they'll kill me if I take the cash," is stuttered. "That cash.. they're moving it north! With the muties.." that are now working their way out of the tunnels. Fat boy groans, and tears still stream down his face. He's got no arm, but here.. and now, he's being promised a new arm, and maybe work. Definitely some sort of life, anyway.

"Sid.. Sid!" He goes over to batboy who is breathing, though shallowly. "Buddy.. c'mon.. we gotta go. We're buggin' out.." With no response, nothing.. he leans over to carry his friend over his shoulder in a 'fireman's carry'. "I gotcha, buddy.. you don't look so good."

Kurt's teleporting brings him into yet another part of the tunnels; it's not a place that Domino has seen before. There's a slight of hand, and a small piece of paper is slid into the merc's hand before Kurt is gone.. seemingly gone, that is.

She's done this before. Plenty of times by now. Still, there's that initial feeling of -YERK!- before Domino's world has a chance to right itself once more. And just in time to see their unexpected travel companion stumble and hit the ground.

Pistol is holstered, shotgun is slung, (note is taken,) and a half-gloved hand is offered down to Winter Soldier. "Happens to the best of us. 'Sides, with the smell going on down there? No one here's gonna judge your landing."

"Your new boss is paying you otherwise. Call it a test of faith," on that note Lex turns heading back into the direction he came. Results did come tonight. Are they exactly the ones he wants? No. However the adventure is fruitful. Eyes trail about the place taking in notes of how the layout worked...for next time.

"Grate--" the Soldier begins before setting his bleary eyes on Domino and pausing. Given a moment to let his eyes refocus on her - with her alabaster skin and blacked eye - he manages to finish, "--ful," then turns away to get on all fours to make rebalancing easier. Once he's on his feet again, he shoves the paper in past the collar of his jumpsuit, picks a direction, and begins running in it, with little more than a brisk, two-fingered wave for Domino.

Successes? As far as successes go, there were undoubtedly a few, though none discernable for Fernando Greco. His room of mutants that were going to be headed north? Freed. Who knows where they will end up.

Greco's stash of cash that was in that lab? That will be emptied out. This particular run, in all, has dented the Family; losses with no gains, unlike the airport.

Soon enough, there will be .. consequences.

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