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Welcome to the Isle of Silence; Spiral, Creed later
Topic Started: Jan 25 2013, 03:02 PM (420 Views)
Songbird
Unregistered

January 20th
4:30 PM


Melissa moved along down the streets of Mutant Town. In one arm, she carried a brown paper grocery sack that was filled with what she was going to make for anyone who was going to eat at Brownstone that evening. In the other, she just held her iPhone, flipping through a few songs until she arrived at the one she was most in the mood for. The day couldn't have been better. It was cold, sure, but it was one of those cloudless days where the sun provided enough warmth to make it bearable. With one earbud in, she nodded her head to the beat of the song as she walked along.

"Hey Melissa!" one of the street vendors called out, raising a hand to her.

"Hey Chuck!" she answered, stopping and walking over to the table that he had set up. Chuck sold the CDs of local musicians. Most of them weren't the best, but there were a few gems to be had, and since she considered herself a connoisseur of sound and music, she had gotten to know Chuck pretty well since she had moved to Mutant Town. That was the way it was with most of the small businesses though. The guy at the sub shop. The guy at the pizza place. The people in several of the clothing stores. Melissa was getting along well and finding her niche.

After looking through a few of the new CDs and paying five bucks for one, Songbird continued on down the road towards Brownstone. Yea, it was hard for her to imagine what her life would be like if she had remained with the Thunderbolts and with SHIELD. The friends that she had made with X-Investigations so far were irreplaceable.

Guido really got her sense of humor and in all honesty, he was probably her best friend there so far. Riva, though she tended to have an attitude towards most, was really a sweetheart and they were getting along well as roommates. Kyle, even though he had just come back from a bad experience, still seemed nice enough. At least to her, anyways. Paige was sweet. Alix and Jamie were good friends. Jet... well it seemed like Jet didn't like her that much most of the time. But she could work around that. Blake was a fun guy to be around. Trevor, though she didn't understand him half the time, was a real sweet. Then there was Madison, who was way too smart for her, but she still liked to bug him as much as possible. Everyone there really was great and she couldn't ask to be a part of a better team.

It was much different than her days in the Thunderbolts. Most of that was spent being afraid of making the wrong move. Afraid of what might happen should she screw something up. That was only amplified when Pietro left the team, leaving her as the only one who seemed to have any kind of decency. Sure, she played like she was friends with people like Spiral and Zita and Creed... but really, she was so out of place there.

XFI was where it was at.

A smile came to her face as she turned a corner at that thought, now less than a couple of blocks away from Brownstone. Oddly enough though, the street was pretty void of anyone else, except for a taxi that was moving away from her. She didn't think much of it though. It was around 4 PM on a Sunday, so most people were probably at home or in a bar watching football at something. Even though it was only a few weeks ago that this place had been attacked by Namor, life moved along quickly in New York. It almost seemed like New York was used to bouncing back from disasters at this point. Shoving her phone into her jacket pocket, she enjoyed the breeze in her face as she walked along. Happy. Carefree. Today was a good day.
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Spiral
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Good day?

No such luck.

Her leg still had phantom inklings of pain, though it was mostly in her head. Alix Smith, the XFI firm's resident saint sufferer, had made a very grave mistake by shooting her in the leg and not the head. That chance would likely not come again, unless she seemed so inclined to offer it.

Which she wouldn't.

Spiral, up above, had been following the girl Songbird for a while now, walking the thin line between concrete and open air on the low rooftops of the Mutant Town tenements. The old brick and mortars of the region were quite perfect for stalking, she might have mused had she not been dead quiet, the reasons for which will be revealed in subsequent prose.

The fur trim off her boots billowed soundlessly in the breeze, her already quiet footfalls rendered silent by noble technology. Telescopic eyes watched her old comrade as she meandered about the streets, picturesque brown-bag in arm, smile on her face, happy as a...

No, I'm not going to make that pun, she thoughtsmirked behind the gruesome mask covering her mouth.

New York was chilly this time of year, though today was not totally unbearable, all the same, she would have stood out, if indeed anyone could see her. But her arms writhed fluidly and worked their wonders, and nobody beyond a scant few not present could see her now, the world bent and folded around her in a shroud of invisibility, the probability of discover nil as was her whim and will.

Swords adorned her back, six in a circle, hitched and clutched into ornate scabbards. Of them four were composed of that Skrullos Vibranium she'd earned in her work with the planet's would-be usurpers. but two were made of far sterner stuff. Though she was growing far fonder of the blade these days, range did not become fully neglected, and her twin revolvers sat heavy at her hips, her personal armory a wrist-flick away at any moment. She drew her hood up against the chill, tucking silver hair away as her eyes returned to a more manageable magnification while Gold turned the corner.

"We can dance if we want to." she mused in her head.

Gold was a comrade of olde, true. They'd served in SHIELD's mockery of a prison unit. The Thunderbolts, she smiled, had seemed like a thousand years ago, but seeing this woman brought it all back in stark clarity.

They'd gone on a few missions, the highlight being that assassination in the mountains of China. She had always been friendly, though so had Spiral, and that was then, this was now.

The Thunderbolts had been play.

This was business.

"And if they don't dance, " she whispered soundlessly. "They're no friend of mine."

Taking to a run, she shot over the gap between two buildings, landing keenly and cleanly on the other side, pulling from nowhere a gun, a very unique one, and aiming down into a service alley, she fired one, two, three, four, five, six shots, silent, all in a grid, bringing a small hand tablet to her sight and priming the small devices before she craned her head back to the streets to track her quarry.

Seeing her about to pass the alley, Spiral removed a small disc from her belt, dropping it into the chasm between the rows of buildings.

It landed dead center between her small grid of tracers, who themselves were waiting for a single flick of a switch to work their own magic, and suddenly, a passionate hologram began to play, and as Gold moved by the alleyway, a facsimile of a crime against humanity began to play, a holographic woman running from a holographic criminal. It was all very real.

This was business, she thought again as she pulled out one of her swords, crowching atop the ledge and waiting.

And business was oh-so-booming.
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Songbird
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Unbeknownst to Songbird, but beknownst to us, Spiral lurked over her as she cheerfully made her way home. The walk, again, was very pleasant. Cool breezes carried away any of the usual bad city smells, leaving it feeling like there was actual fresh air to breath, and Melissa was really looking forward to getting back home to Brownstone and fixing a good meal with Guido. Things couldn't be better. But then...

Melissa paused mid-step, catching the act of crime out of the corner of her eye. She wasn't a real crime fighter type, so she usually wouldn't go hunting for trouble, but she had the ability to stop bad things when she saw them occur. In this case, she spotted a woman running from a man and being knocked down. The woman seemed to see Melissa and cried out, reaching a hand out to her, and the man looked as if he was going to rape her or something.

"Hey!" Melissa said, turning towards the alley. "Get off of her asshole!" she called out, walking into the alley and yanking the earbuds out of her ears and letting the bag of groceries slide out of her arms, setting it quickly on the ground.

The act of violence continued... the girl continued screaming and the man continued what he was doing, causing Melissa to get frustrated. Okaaay. Or don't stop and make me stop you. Great. Just great. Songbird moved a little quicker now, and when she reached the criminal she threw both of her hands out in order to shove him off the girl.

"Hey, did you hear me?!" Mel asked, shoving hard. But her hands went straight through him and she lost her balance, falling in a puddle that was beneath the two people. So for a moment, it seemed like she was right in the middle of both people, getting wet from the puddle, and... it just wasn't right. "What the hell?!" she said, scrambling out of the hologram, which caused it to flicker for just a moment. Sitting on her rear end in the alley, her brows narrowed. "What is going on..."
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Spiral
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Tracers of raw potential streaked around her head as Spiral's helmet faded into existence atop her silver mane, and the moment she saw Gold stumble through the feeble hologram her thumb slapped against a trigger and the grid of devices triggered, filling the surrounding area with a field of buffering nanites; their job was not so brutal as those employed by Apocalypse or even by her in previous circumstance, no. They simply distorted and absorbed soundwaves, draining all aural signatures from a wide radius.

And then she too stepped through nothing, seemingly stepping out of the long puddle on the ground before the woman. There was no sound. No speech. Even the thrum of the city and the chirp of passing birds could not be heard here. All there was was a now dying image of a crime in progress, Songbird, and the wide-grinned, maniacal smile of The Silver Sorceress herself.

She made only one swift motion, a small hold-out pistol going from her belt to her hip, its silence betrayed by a dart that fired quietly out of it, aiming with great precision at the woman's neck. It was all natural, the venom inside, the dosage was good enough to knock out a man for a few hours. It was fast acting, too.

The pistol vanishing before it hit the ground, she continued walking forward, face shaded under her helmet, all save for that unreal synthetic glow from eyes that this amazonian woman had crafter herself. White, bright, fluorescent almost.

Her boot crushed the holographic projector soundlessly and the woman smirked as she pressed forward, a sword filling her hand, adamantium blade sheening in the silence. It was a warning, a threat that if this simple way was rejected, the harder way, the way of pain, was an option she did not consider out of the question.

Her mouth formed two silent, soundless words.

"Hello, Friendo."
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Songbird
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Everything suddenly grew eerily quiet. She had heard about this room, maybe it was a recording studio or something, that was the quietest room in the world. The floors, ceiling and all of the walls absorbed sound. She had read, of course this was internet knowledge so take it for what it is worth, that the longest a person had lasted in that completely silent room was 45 minutes. Hallucinations and other odd things happened to most. All of this sprang to Melissa's mind as she sat there on the cold ground... but then a sharp pain in her neck made her snap her head to the left and raise a hand.

"Ow!" she mouthed, as if her voice had been stolen from her. Then, perhaps it was true about the hallucinations, because she saw a woman step out of a puddle before her. The lady had six arms. Silver hair. And she was carrying probably the most badass sword she had ever laid her eyes on. Definitely a hallucination.

But then, as her limbs grew more lethargic and the lids of her eyes grew more heavy... a moment of realization washed over her as she pieced things together. Alix had just come back a few days ago, all because of this woman. This six armed woman. She wasn't a figment of her imagination or some hallucination. It was her ex-teammate from the Thunderbolts. It was Spiral.

A last little surge of adrenaline went through her body as fear struck her, and Melissa somehow managed to scramble up to her feet just as Spiral was silently greeting her. Songbird immediately stumbled back and raised a hand, bracing herself again the wall. She had always known that if she came across a few of her old Thunderbolts teammates again, the results would not be good. And though she had always been rather joyful and happy around XFI, Melissa came from a much darker past.

One that allowed her to know when to stop being a happy fool and to fight.

Reaching up to the pain in her neck, Melissa removed the dart that was lodged there, and then held it out in order to look it over. Fuuuuck. Spiral seemed to be getting closer. Songbird swayed, even while holding onto the wall for support. Then, gathering herself as syncope began to set in, Melissa took in a large breath, filling her mutated lungs with air.

Within her throat, her voice chords vibrated as she found the proper tone. It was one that she had actually learned during her time in the Thunderbolts. The effect of it being nose bleeds, permanent deafness, unconsciousness, and if she kept at it long enough... death. Her eyes rose back up to Spiral and she suddenly opened her mouth, exhaling that lung full of air in order to produce the shout and hopefully take Spiral down in the process.

But there was no sound.

All at once, the adrenaline and her fight or flight reflexes caved in against the tranquilizer, and Melissa fell back against the wall and slid down it. There was no sound.

"Spiral," Melissa mouthed, raising a hand up towards the six armed mutant. Then she laid her head back and her body went limp as she fell asleep.
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Spiral
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Spiral just kept moving forwards as Melissa Gold slowly allowed the situation to dawn upon her, that chesire grin wide and curling silver lips around teeth too perfect to be natural. She lifted the sword only briefly when the woman drew breath. It would do little if this technology was not working, but if she got even a swipe in, Songbird would become a plural being with little to do.

But the aural dampeners held fast and nothing came, and so her sword lowered before being slipped silently into the empty member of the six scabbards fanned out on her back. The drugs quickly took their hold faster and faster until the poor girl hit the brink, collapsing against a wall, Spiral's eyes tracking her to the ground before moving close, one hand removing a Taurus from her hip and the other reaching for a strange looking band.

Crouching beside her captive, she affixed the device around the woman's neck. A Genoshan null collar, she'd retrofitted it, replacing the violent explosive with an electric shock that would greet the girl at any sign of power usage. Flipping her switch, the sonic field dropped and she stood again, this time reaching to her wrist, a small device lighting up that she keyed some digits into.

Her smile seemed to somehow defy her face and widen further as the X-FI Answering Service keyed into effect. The source of the call was being bounced through several different towers world-wide. It would be traceable with effort of course, but by the time it was traced, this unit would be discarded and destroyed.

"I have your little nightengale, Madrox." She said, smirking. "You'll see her again, don't worry." Spiral looked back to the girl lying in the gutter.

"She's an old friend of mine, I'll treat her well." A laugh that sounded far too innocent for it's source came across the line. "Sorry though, I can't say the same about her old friend Creed."

A man turned the corner, eying the scene, and Spiral turned in time to see him moving to check on Melissa. Spiral raised her Taurus, and a boom signlaed the spreading of his graymatter across the brick wall beside them. "Toodles." She said, cutting the connection.

Moving to the girl, Spiral skipped along, spinning her arms, and as her finger touched Gold's shoulder, they both of them vanished into thin air.

"Victor!"

Her voice rang out across the front lawn of a large house. Creed's manor was in a secluded, remote area, and he didn't like people being brought there, as exemplified by her last escapade here with Gibney.

But Gold was unconscious, and Spiral didn't really care.

"Candy gram!"

She hoisted her pistol into the air again, a crack sounding their arrival on the off chance he hadn't already heard them. It had been some months since she'd seen him, and the fact that those months had been some of her fondest memories had led her to this conclusion.

She took a few steps foward, dragging Gold by her shirt, holstering her pistol and grabbing a hand through space-time, searching a moment before pulling a small briefcase out and stopping at the landing leading into the old house.

"I have a business proposition! Moolah cash money, kitty kat."
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Sabretooth
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<"Yes, yes, I understand what you're asking me. You want your opponent in the upcoming election to suffer an unfortunate accident. I understand that."> * The voice sounded out well enough from Spiral's position to know that the man she sought was up in his office. Window open. As secluded as this manor was, he had no worries about people overhearing what he was talking about.

<"So what's the problem, you ask? I'll tell you what the problem is. Your offer is way too damn low, that's the problem. What you're asking - stop talking and let me finish. I said stop talking or I'll make my way down to your ridiculous little province that doesn't mean a flying sack of shit to me and mutilate you for nothing more than the fact that your voice is getting on my last God damned nerve.">

A pause.

<"Thank you. You're asking for the best. You're asking for a hit so discreetly done, so expertly managed, that nobody will think twice that it was anything but a horrific, terrible accident. That is what you are asking for. The problem is the service you are willing to pay for is at best a sniping from an easily calculated trajectory that will lead the authorities to a rifle that has your God damn name painted on it with an invoice for the transaction sittin' next to it. That is what your money offer is telling me you want. Is that what you want? I didn't think so. Yes. That amount will do very nicely. Yes. Wire it to the account you were given. Consider your problem taken care of. Pleasure doin' business with ya.">

The phone hangs up. Clearly, he didn't bother to interrupt his call to deal with Spiral. Petty? Possibly. Or maybe he just didn't care enough to interrupt his business for her sake.

"Make yer pitch snappy, Gidget, I ain't got all day," he called out from the office.

((* = Translated from Portuguese, true believers!))
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Spiral
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"Oh come on, Victor! You don't honestly wanna tell me you're feeling bitter hm? After all the money I made you too. Tch."

They were friends on some level, maybe. They'd kill eachother at the drop of a hat, too. So maybe not friends. But Creed knew she was powerful, even if he didn't admit it inwardly or outwardly, he knew she wasn't a handful of peanuts. But Spiral respected Creed. He didn't let the world rule him. Not on any level. He was his own man and that above all things was Spiral's cup of tea.

Also, he had a connection to this little songbird.

She hoisted the drooling, unconcious girl by the hair, patting her cheek and springing from the yard to the edge of Creed's balcony railing, dropping her with a thud at the feral's feet. "I was wondering if you would do me a favor."

She opened the case to display that it was full of kuwaiti dinar. Not the easiest thing to translate into usable currency outside of its origin, but it was the top dollar in the world at the moment.

"Or a job."

She set the briefcase down, stepping down off of the railing and over Songbird, giving Creed a wide berth. "I need you to give this girl here a reason to live. She's become soft, and I need her and her friends good an hard for the coming storm, or it's going to be an anticlimactic finale."

She nudged the pretty girl with a foot, considering for a moment taking her home, changing her, giving Erica a friend. She was pretty enough, but no. XFI would need her.

Spiral reached from her belt and then bent down, pulling the girl's head up and affixing a strange device to her face. The thing pulled her face tight, opening wide her eyes and pulling taught her cheeks into a ghoulishly long smile. "Like a Cheshire." She mused, before turning back to Creed.

"Break a bone, cut her up, chase her in the woods. It's an odd request, I know, but I've other things to attend to and your time is very very valuable to me," she said, nodding to the case as if to indicate there was more if needed. "I'll be back in a few weeks time to pick her up. The only stipulation is don't do too much. I can regrow skin but I'd rather not have to invest too heavily in prosthetics."
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Sabretooth
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Finally, he made his way to the window, peering out of it, down to the grounds below. There she was, much like last time, with unwanted company. At least this time around she had the decency to announce it. Learning from her mistakes, perhaps? Or playing a new angle? And in that one moment, she was there. Just like that, just like Spiral.

"If I was bitter, you'd a' triggered any number of defense mechanisms I raided from old Weapon X facilities by now," Creed said with a sneer, adjusting the wide-brimmed hat that sat low on his brow. He had helped himself to it after taking care of a hitman some Sicilian down in New York wanted gone. Nice brim, silvery, gleaming skull ornament on the band. Yeah, suited him nicely.

"Ya been busy, Spiral. Got'cherself some new benefactors these days?" he made no effort to explain further. She wasn't exactly hiding her activities, wasn't going through a lot of trouble to make sure that people like Creed, who were far savvier than most people gave them credit for, were unable to keep tabs on her activities.

The request was odd. Seemed ridiculous, even. Was he understanding her correctly? Of course he was. But was she understanding herself? Was she entirely aware of what she was asking for? That, he couldn't be sure of.

He glanced to the severely unconscious woman Spiral had dragged in here. Then back to Spiral, before taking his hat off and placing it down on top of a mantleplace ornament he'd had for a very long time - a pristine, cleaned and preserved, human skull. One he was particularly proud of, too. A teamster from down in the states whose disappearance was legendary. They'd never find him, of course. This skull was all that was left.

"So yer tellin' me... that you wanna hire me ta put this cute little birdie through boot camp?" he glanced back to the unconscious woman before sitting down at his desk and kicking open the mini-fridge next to it. He pulled out two bottles of beer, and tossed one in Spiral's direction before prying open the other with his claws.

"Why the hell ya wanna do that?" Creed asked, taking a swig from the bottle. "You feelin' guilty an' lookin' ta make sure a bunch of do-gooders can give you the proper penance?"
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Spiral
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He remarked on her recent spur of activity, and she only smiled. So he kept his finger on the pulse of the underworld. So what if Victor Creed kept tabs on her? All things to her were inconsequential in this dance. This prelude to an ascension.

"The people backing me are the people backing me." She shrugged. "Nice hat."

His doubtful eyes and scoffing tones weren't unnoticed, and she didn't comment on them. She was very used to being met with confusion or downright dismissal. Thus was her lot in life until the time came to change it. A moment fast approaching. But that was then and this was now. And now she needed a little birdy toughed up.

Of course, Creed's question was warranted, and she pursed her silver lips, giving him a coy smile he and he alone might recognize. It meant she had a point, a very valid one, but one that wouldn't become clear until it'd already come to pass.

A flick of the wrist and the hips in a twist and she was suddenly alongside the macabre hat rack. She eyed it before her hand, her mechanical hand, plucked it free of its resting place and dropped it upon her silver head.

"I'm going to come very close to destroying the World soon, Creed. It is very very important someone be there to stop me." She removed the hat and placed it back on the skull, turning back to face Creed and the sleeping Songbird.

And just like that conversation changed gears to something entirely mundane.

"I always liked your eye for decor. Maybe some day, Creed, when things change, you and I can go on a reunion tour."

And like that she was on the railing of his balcony again, walking across it with arms splayed out as if balance was even an issue. "But I'll be back in a few weeks to pick her up. I do implore you to leave something functioning. And if you need more money..."

She turned to face him, tracing a spiral in the air with a lackadaisical smile.

"Just say my name."

And with that she fell backwards, and in another breath was gone.
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