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| Placebo; Aingeru | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 2 2011, 12:17 AM (271 Views) | |
| Brian F. | Apr 2 2011, 12:17 AM Post #1 |
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Bioelectric Manipulation
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Date: March 29, 2011 Time: 1 p.m. Brian felt lost among the crowd of suburban automaton-like humans. The small crowd moved with fluidity equivalent to the waves in the ocean. Warm brushes of air made contact with Brian’s firm face. His narrowed eyes glanced at a small banner that blew in the wind; the banner read: “Welcome to the 21st Annual Carnation Festival!” The brotherhood had not expected any sort of crow, but it would not hinder the objective from being completed. The man that had caught the Brotherhood’s attention was standing a mere fifty feet away from the two members. Dr. Joel Rosenbrock, owner of the “New Hope Hospital” in New York City. A successful doctor in his time, he had now become a greedy business man. The man had appeared to be running a straight-shooting business, or at least as straight-shooting as any successful business in America, until the past few weeks. A mutant came to New Hope requesting treatment, Rosenbrock met the family at the door claiming that insurance purposes did not allow his facility to treat the mutant. Infuriated, the family went to the press. Because Rosenbrock knew the repercussions of bad press, he allowed the mutant to return to New Hope and receive the best treatment free of charge. This seeming act of charity calmed the family, and Rosenbrock felt his position of the top medical facilities in New York stabilized. That was, until, the second day of the mutant’s stay at New Hope. Passing away from what seemed like an incurable illness, the press focused more on the fact that he may have been saved if admitted earlier. The Brotherhood, on the other hand, found ulterior motives in Rosenbrock’s story. Brian now stood at the threshold of his community waiting for the appropriate time to engage the man. His pick-up was arranged with a teleporter from Sanctuary in one hour. It did not give the two, Brian and Aingeru, long before they needed to be back to their drop site. Brian was slowly losing who he was. The longer this drew on, the more emotionally void he became. No matter how much he denied that this was intentional, this was his method for coping with Brotherhood dealings. Brian literally felt nothing, it was as close to an out-of-body experience that he could relate to. The objective was clear, and Brian would fulfill it with surgical precision. He would not do this for the Brotherhood, no matter how correctly driven Magneto’s vision was. Jacqueline was the reason for Brian’s stay with the Brotherhood, and today he would prove just how far he was willing to delve to save his sister. Rosenbrock finally came into Brian’s line of sight. He noticed the grey-haired man walking with another woman, and a single child. The young Englishman recognized Rosenbrock from the scans that he had received. After about a minute of watching the doctor, he picked up his phone while the older woman and child walked away to another booth. Faintly hearing Rosenbrock say that he would “check on it”, the man began to walk away from the festivities. He appeared to be walking to his house. “Lets follow him,” Brian said sternly as he immediately began walking away in a similar fashion as the doctor had. It would be nice to get away from the epicenter of the crowd, all of the bioelectric signatures were almost overwhelming. Each individual pulse of the crowd made Brian more and more ready to leave. It was a short walk to the house that Brian watched Rosenbrock enter. The door was left unlocked, and rather than asking Aingeru if he was ready Brian strolled in to see the grey-haired man sitting at a large table looking over some paperwork. Secrecy was not something that the two were working for so the man immediately noticed them. ”What are you doing in my house?!?! When Brian began to approach the man at the table, he immediately tried to flee but got caught in his chair. Pain. Upon focusing on the thought, Rosenbrock’s bioelectric pulses twisted and warped. He let out a blood curdling scream and fell back into his chair. “Mr. Rosenbrock? Please, don’t try and deny it, because that would be a horrible mistake that I am not ready to deal with. Anyways, we need to ask you a few questions. Care to oblige?” Brian’s voice was cold. He truly was loosing himself. |
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| Aingeru | Apr 7 2011, 08:09 AM Post #2 |
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A carnation festival? Well that was unexpected. And a rather large oversight that someone was probably going to have to answer for later. The streets were far from the barrenness Aingeru might have expected from a sleepy suburban borough, filled with people and noises, the oily fried smell of corn dogs and funnel cakes and popcorn wafting through the air, not all that unfamiliar from the scenery at the Brotherhood’s old abode. If there was anything a member of the Brotherhood knew how to do, it was blending in with the crowd, and the two soldiers did so with ease. Perhaps it was not such a blunder, picking a festival day to carry out their mission. Two men walking down an empty sidewalk and entering the physician’s house in the middle of the afternoon would’ve looked more suspicious. Though they deviated genetically from the majority of the population, the Brotherhood, at least the ones that more readily came to Aingeru’s mind, still looked and acted human. Or rather, did a very good job at faking it. Shouldering through the crowds, a storm of thoughts roared around him. The glee of the young was a gilded surface to more troubled sentiments, the nagging stresses of their nine to five white-collar jobs, tensions among spouses, the sagging housing market, dramas of the domicile that amounted to little than white noise. The telepath followed Brian, keeping both visual and mental tabs on his teammate, trailing behind. Where Falsworth could rely on his size and frame to make way in the crowd, the Turk used his mind. People avoided him, more or less, compelled to look around, change their train of thought, deviate just slightly from their paths and allowing the lean young man to walk through their festivities without bother. Well, almost. “Well hello there!” came a far too boisterous greeting, an aging woman suddenly stepping into his line of sight and way. Her makeup was heavy, powder and paste packed excessively into the widening lines and chasms on her face, searing rouge and smoky eyeliner. A woman who convinced herself she was still in her 30s, dressed like she was in her 20s, and thought herself the queen bee of the neighborhood. Three divorces, two children. The look on Aingeru’s rather stoic face became surprised for a moment, but she didn’t seem to notice. “My name’s Margaret, president of the HOA. Are you enjoying the festival?” she asked, even going so far as to rest a manicured hand on his elbow. Her familiarity with him was disturbing. Aingeru felt himself edge away, seeking out Brian with his mind just to make sure he hadn’t lost his teammate. The Brit had located their target already. He didn’t have time to waste with some status-hungry cougar, and despite a desire to just send her into a coma, he only shrugged her away. “You must be one of the new move-ins. I don’t think I’ve seen your face at any of the meetings. And trust me, I’d remember yours,” she winked. Aingeru shrugged himself away. ::Turn around, take your children, and go home:: he spoke into her mind, thoughts laced with the weight of psychic coercion. Her smiling expression turned lax, and she obediently turned and did as told. If the night’s events turned the way Aingeru anticipated they would, they’d want to be as far from the scene as possible. Her children were young. They did not need to see what would happen. But that was where Revenant’s mercy ended. Despite the distraction, Aingeru had not fallen irreparably behind. Striding down the sidewalk, he caught up with Brian, whom entered the physician’s home without a word. Aingeru followed, shutting the door and closing it behind him with a click of the lock. Behind him, the physician screamed. “Mr. Rosenbrock? Please, don’t try and deny it, because that would be a horrible mistake that I am not ready to deal with. Anyways, we need to ask you a few questions. Care to oblige?” Aingeru remained in the entrance hall, watching the pair before his eyes roved the walls, decorated with the occasional painting, his wife’s tastes on display. It was a lovely home, obviously of a man with means. His footsteps thudded loudly in the empty house, along with the labored and trembling rasps of Rosenbrock’s breathing. The steps paused when Aingeru reached another cluster of frames on the wall, showcasing the man’s lovely little family. Wedding portraits, snapshots with a smiling little girl missing her two front teeth, there was so much love evident, such family unity. He pointed at a family portrait of the three, Cinderella’s Castle looming behind, little mouseketeer on their heads, tapping on the glass. “That,” he began with his accented voice, “is beautiful. I had family like this once. You know what happened?” Flashes of gore and ruin bombarded Rosenbrock’s thoughts, a woman’s body rendered to shreds beneath the rubble of her kitchen, the lifeless eyes of a boy staring up as his brains leaked from the back of his skull, punctuated by the sensation of grit in his mouth, dust in his eyes, shrapnel in his skin. The psychic assault ended just as quickly. “What makes it fair, that you can have a life like this? A family like that? Why is yours not ripped apart?” His speech was stilted just a bit by a lack of contractions, but the Turkish Cypriot could still express himself. He could express himself so much better telepathically, and he did so, by gleaning images of the man’s family, forcing him to think of them. “What makes them special?” Aingeru removed the portrait from the wall, a small five by seven frame. When he came up to the doctor seated in his chair, he pulled his arm back and smashed the photo frame against his face, a cry of pain and the clattering of glass filling the empty home. “You are accused of murder, Dr. Joel Rosenbrock, violating the Hippocratic Oath and allowing a member of the mutant race to die from deliberate malpractice. We are here for your confession. And my erkek kardeş is right. Do not insult us by lying.” He smirked, taping a finger to his temple. They were here to extract a confession, writhing and screaming and bleeding. The assault on his face was nothing compared to what the two mutants could do. “Start at the beginning. The hospital. Who decided to turn away that patient?” |
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| Brian F. | Apr 8 2011, 09:26 PM Post #3 |
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Bioelectric Manipulation
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“That is beautiful. I had family like this once. You know what happened?” Brian watched slowly and cautiously. He did not know much about the fellow Brotherhood member, besides the fact that he had telepathic abilities. Aingeru stopped after asking, Brian narrowed his eyes as he analyzed the situation unfolding before him. The doctor’s bioelectric signature spiked, his mind racing. He was not sure what input Aingeru was supplying to Rosenbrock, but all he knew was that his stimulation was high, unnaturally high. Brian’s emotionally void eyes met Rosenbrock’s vacant eyes. A soft shimmer shown in his eyes as Brian understood that even though he was looking out across the table towards him, he was not actually seeing. While Aingeru worked with the doctor, Brian scanned the surrounding area for any near bioelectric signatures. The large concentration of signatures was still in the neighborhood center, and Brian let out a small sigh. The only thing worse than this violent extraction was another civilian interrupting it, and Brian would not stop Aingeru from taking care of the problem. Brian then felt a faint signature coming closer; it was nothing more than a child. Brian moved over to the slender window next to the front door, and pulled away the covering that hung loosely over the window. A small girl chased a red ball that rolled away from the festivities as a gust of wind picked up her light pink hat and carried it a few feet away before falling to the ground. A small smile spread across Brian’s face as he watched the girl, his eyes slowly drifted to the crowd of people down the block. Everyone shared smiles, laughs, and a general hearty time. The neighborhood was something out of modern fairy tale. However, the tranquility of the entire neighborhood that Brian observed from within the confines of Rosenbrock’s home was shattered. Hearing the abrupt sound of glass impacting and then raining down onto the cold hardwood below wiped the smile of the young Englishman’s face. The billowing sheers dropped in front of the window as Brian turned slowly. He looked up to see Aingeru holding a picture frame in his hand; a small cracked glass frame outlined a family picture. Small dots and running lines of blood tainted the picture, screams of pain came from the man who had small glimmering shards of glass in his thick graying hair. To this point, the two Brotherhood members had not accomplished anything. They had been in the house of their target for over five minutes, but yet all Aingeru had done was inflict needless pain on the doctor who would most likely experience plenty of pain over his short time with the two. The case was fairly cut and dry, the punishment even more cut and dry. Brian had attempted to prepare himself for what he knew might occur, but at this point was still unsure if he could perform the duty. He felt his feelings, morality… humanity coming back grasping for a place in his mentality, but now was not the time nor place. “Start at the beginning. The hospital. Who decided to turn away that patient?” Large crossed arms attempted to show Rosenbrock that he was serious. That is, if he had forgotten the picture frame slammed against the side of his face. The light that Brian usually carried with him while talking to his sister, talking to anyone, was gone. His eyes were a dark blue, his face stoic, and was upset that the man had not spoken. The two had given the doctor a chance to plead a true case, and the man spat in their face by refusing the order. This not only frustrated Brian, but mad him want to teach the baseline. Teach him, that when given a chance he should respect the two enough that he would comply by answering the question. Pleasure. The thought soothed the doctors bioelectric signature. Bliss, ecstasy, and harmony flowed through the man while he continued not to answer. He even began to smirk at Aingeru and then Brian as he felt like his behavior and incompliance was being condoled. Brian held eye-lock with the man who continued to grin. His grin spread to a large toothy smile that was unnatural; the smile was a product of the unnatural sensation of pleasure. At that point, he enjoyed what was happening, everything. Pain. Rosenbrock’s expression immediately changed. The man was no longer smiling, instead, his neck strained as he let out a cry of pain. The man was not completely clueless as his screams soon turned into pleas to stop. Brian kept mentally wrenching the doctor’s signature and channeling it so that it would cause a continual source of pain. Soon seeing that the pain would not induce any answering from the man, he cut the bioelectric source. Rosenbrock continued to pant from the exhaustion that came from the simulated pain. “Speak. Now.” ”Okay, okay, just stop for one second… It was the clinical decision committee who decided to withdraw care. I had nothing to do with it… I… you…” “Stop, that is a lie. I know. You were the primary personnel responsible for the decision, no? Answer clearly, or I will allow my friend to ruin you.” Brian gestured to Aingeru, and was confident that the fellow mutant could do just that. “Yes or no.” ”Yes it was me.” Brian looked over to Aingeru who might have caught something that he had missed. This might be easier than he initially thought. |
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2:10 PM Jul 11