1963-09-18 - Leave None Alive
Summary: Revenge against -anyone- is in the air as Raven goes off the rails. Cain is in attendance and Domino, Cable, and Marcus unwittingly answer the call to war.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
cain marcus cable domino raven 

Logan left the mansion a day or two ago. Regretted it a few times. Didn't regret it a few times more.

Maybe he wanted to be there, but wantin' something didn't make it so. He had too many sharp edges and too many of those people were soft. Piotr, Kitty, Rogue…even Illyana had a soft side, too soft for the kind of shit they kept getting into.

And Jean. Jean was getting tougher. Logan wasn't sure that was a good thing. And he wouldn't soon forget the sound of her scream when he droves his claws through her.

So he drank. He drank long and hard, in a way he hadn't done in an age. The kind of drink that it takes to actually get him drunk. He was on his third bottle of whiskey and going strong, a cowboy hat tilted back on his wild hair as he sits at the bar.


She was a tall drink of water. All black business suit befitting of a woman that was not of her kind, long dark locks that curl around her shoulders and her back with a smile to match. Dark eyes lined with kohl and emphasized with eyeshadow that makes the brown in them pop, a faint glow that touches her mocha brown skin and a killer smile to boot. The woman carried a clutch with her, held upon her hand, diamonds that littered her wrist and nails that extend two inches and painted blood red.

The dark lady takes a seat upon the stool next to Logan, one thick thigh crossed over the other, her glossed, plush lips persing as she considers the options of being told to leave or given swill because of the skin that she wears.

"Do me a favor, Howlett. Buy me a drink."


She was a tall drink of water. All black business suit befitting of a woman that was not of her kind, long dark locks that curl around her shoulders and her back with a smile to match. Dark eyes lined with kohl and emphasized with eyeshadow that makes the brown in them pop, a faint glow that touches her mocha brown skin and a killer smile to boot. The woman carried a clutch with her, held upon her hand, diamonds that littered her wrist and nails that extend two inches and painted blood red.

The dark lady takes a seat upon the stool next to Logan, one thick thigh crossed over the other, her glossed, plush lips persing as she considers the options of being told to leave or given swill because of the skin that she wears.

"Do me a favor, Howlett. Buy me a drink."


Logan doesn't need to take a look, the scent alone giving Mystique away. She was getting better at it, though. Maybe someday she'd even be able to fool him. Well…probably not.

"A round for the lady. Whatever she likes," he says. "What brings you around, birdie? I ain't really lookin' to sign up for any jobs right now, I just quit the last one an' I'm feelin' a bit on the surly side," he says.


Logan has partially disconnected.


"Whiskey Sour." Raven calls out, giving a nod towards the bartender as she turns just a touch to face Logan. "I've actually come on a little bit of business. Though, not for you." She tilts her head just a touch, even leaning forward, her hand reaching out to tip up the cowboy hat so that she could look him right into the side of his eye.

"And what job was that?" She asks, her tone light. "Finally giving up on protecting kids who don't want to be protected? Did they shun you because even though you're a mutant.. you're a killer and inheritly different? Or did my dear old brother say a few words that had you turn tail to scoot out of his place?"


Logan gives a low growl, "Watch your tongue, girl. You're a damn fine killer, I won't deny that, but don't think I won't put you through that wall if you piss me off tonight," he says.

Shrugging, he takes another hit of whiskey, "Just don't belong. Like you said - kids. I don't belong around kids. Just get 'em hurt. Or hurt 'em myself," he says. "Let 'em be heroes. They'll be better ones without me around."


"Oh ho ho…" Raven mocks quietly. "And I thought all of the times we've worked and fought together you'd save the little threats and just get straight to the fight." But, her voice was serious, even as her tone lowers and he goes on to explain, her drink was delivered and a little sip was taken, the cherry soon dipped out of the glass with her fingers to roll in between.

"Who was it."


Logan snorts, "I threaten because I don't much wanna fight. Had enough of it lately. Just reminding you that my tolerance ain't infinite and there reaches a point where I ain't got much choice 'bout the matter," he says.

"Don't matter," he says. Which, of course, is a lie, the who mattered all too much, mattered enough to make the rest not matter at all. "She'll live and be better off without me darkenin' her doorstep no more," he says. "Now, obviously, I came here to forget about all that, so why don't you get down to business?"


"You're a liar." Raven states, plain and simple.

It was about both things that he mentions, and finally the clutch was set upon the bar and left there so that she could focus her full attention upon Logan. "As I said, I'm here for business. But that business does not include you." Her frowns a little, then leans sideways against the back of her stoop. "So, you left because of a girl. A girl that you've obviously hurt and a girl that you were -bound- to hurt." Her hand lowers to press against her side, the memory of it all..

"Do you remember when we last saw each other? Before I gave birth to my son?" She asks, clenching her teeth rather oddly. "He's here. Somewhere in this city. The instant that I heard his cries I thought that he was better off without me as well. And while now that may be the case.." She glances away. "..I am not so sure." She sniffs. "My point is. You don't get to decide who you are better for or not. But I suppose it's a little bit late for that, no?"


Logan snorts, "Never said I wasn't one. I'm guessin' about every bad thing there is, I done at some point. I thought maybe I got a second chance about it, but maybe not," he shrugs, "If not, then I deal with it," he says.

He looks at her sharply when she mentions the last time they met years ago, "I got a kid, too. Thought he died with his Mama. He grew up okay without me. Well…he grew up lik eme. Which I guess ain't okay," he says.


"So.. since when did anyone say second chances were easy?"

Raven shrugs her shoulders idly, the prospect at Logan having a son was amusing. But so was it for her. "He's alive. That's all that matters. They're both alive." She murmurs slightly. "My son -isn't- like me. Nor his father. In fact, it feels like he's.. a bit holy in that regards." She grins faintly, then reaches out to grasp his shoulder. "Dance with me for a moment."


Logan first thinks to push her off but, instead, finds himself going out onto the dance floor, taking her hand. He looks her full in the face for the first time and grins, "Damn, it must be nice to be as purty as you want any damn time you please,' he says.

"Not business with me, huh? Business that's likely to get you killed? Business where you might need someone to watch yer back?" he asks."


"Yes. Though, if you'd like.. I can be an ugly ol' broad. Big moles and facial postules. Would that help?"

Though as she begins to sway with Logan, she glances around the bar, those giving the odd couple a right nasty look but she doesn't mind it one bit. Her arms encircle his shoulders, leaning in just a little. "Possibly both." Raven admits, "Possibly not at all. It's just a little social call, is all. Nothing to alarm yourself or myself with." Though, there was a little hint of paranoia there. "Do you remember that time in Prague.. ah.." She couldn't even think of his name. "..ol' peg leg. Thirty years ago.."


Logan shakes his head, "Ain't gonna lie, the good looks are taken my mind off it as much as the liquor is," he says. "An' I can tell there's a couple over there gettin' all riled up about us dancin', so I ain't about to stop on their account," he says.

He furrows his brow, "You mean Hermann the Hellcat? Gun-runner? Speakin' o' big ol' moles…he wuz an old man, then. What kinda business could you have with 'im now?"


"I figured you say something like that." Raven inacts a turn, one that puts him facing the couple and her the door. Not because she was paranoid, but so that Logan can growl and grimace as he needs to, and feel all the more better for it.

"Ah, Hermann. Yes. Well, naturally he's dead." She states as if she were speaking about the rain. "But apparently someone found something of his that belongs to me. Though, that person managed to contact one of my old aliases, I personally informed that person that I was dead." She sniffs slightly. "Hence the skin I'm in. Though I did agree to meet the person to find out just what it is."


Logan makes a show of brushing his cheek against her neck somewhat seductively, putting on a bit of a show for the prejudiced pair, almost asking for the man to try and intervene. Hell, if a black man had been doing the same to a white woman, the fucker might already have taken a swing. They do get all sensitive about their white women.

"You got no idea what it might be? Anything you been missin'? Sometimes, a thing is lost and you wish it stayed that way," he says, his strong hands at her waist.


The scruff against her neck actually makes her laugh a little. It wasn't a loud one, but a quietly little snicker-giggle that he's possibly heard too many times before. She was ticklish, and it was something that she herself couldn't help. "No idea.. no." She says quietly into his ear.. there was a half turn again, and a slight lean back with a lift of her brows.

"You're being profound. I hate that." She grins again, then leans in, cheek to cheek to continue their dance. "But if someone goes so far as to contact that name? One -that- old? It must be something important. You remember how that bastard was.."


Logan keeps his hand on the small of her back, letting him support her a bit when he gives her something of a dip, the shorter man nestling his face briefly in her cleavage before pulling her back up again.

"I ain't all good looks, doll. Sometimes I say deep shit," he says. "Yeah, I remember. He put more'n one bullet in me on more'n one occasion. The last time, he even knew it wouldn't do any good, he just did it fer spite, the ol' cuss."


"Though.. your profoundness does give me cause to actually invite you to this little meet and greet, since you seem so, so very eager to break a bone or two." Raven takes the dip, her dark hair falling into the air like rivulets before she's up again.

"And since this is history that you were apart of, and that damnable nose of yours." Raven considers this. She could at least ask one other, and another other.. but this one requires a simple bit of finesse. Shockingly enough, out of all that Raven considers for this little meet, Logan was actually key. Besides, he knew of Hermann. Maybe this was something for him as well.

"I suppose this place is a good a meet as any. I'll put in the word for tomorrow. I'd say that we should check the exits and the surrounding areas before we leave but I do have something a little bit more fun in mind." And when it comes to Raven and those words? It would indeedily be fun..


Logan smirks, "I ain't got noplace to be and nobody to see. Might as well stick with you and see what shakes loose," he says, "Lead on, pretty bird."



Mystique has been watching this particular crew for a while. The only reason why she had chosen the crew that she watches was because the boss of said crew was rather flamboyant with his means. Men roughing up men, hanging them off the top of buildings at elaborate dinner parties for the stars. Random snatch and grabs, beatings in the back seat given to men and possibly women, only to dump them in front of the hospital, leaving them with the sounds of screeching tires and smoke in their wake.

And she was itching for some action. After she had taken that mutant to a secure location that was obviously experimented on and hurt, all mobs were now on the radar and it was time for war.

There is only so much, someone could handle.

With Cain at her side, she really didn't need the extra hands. She could dump that man off into the middle of whatever fight she was aiming to start and let him run wild. Blood would litter Hells Kitchen. There would be monumental funerals. Cain would be on the most wanted list for years to come.

But Raven prefers style. At least for today.

The restaurant was a target, a known spot for this particular crew. Raven managed to infiltrate the mob itself by kidnapping one of the middle-class lackies. Spent the entire week with them, following orders. Learning when best to hit. Tonight was fitting, it was the bosses birthday. And today? Probably going to be his last.

And she figured why not? The blue skinned mutant was an agent of chaos, so ads were put out into the paper:

'Party of a century. In HELL. Leave the women in the KITCHEN and come ARMED to party! Celebrate the HEROICS of the play and VILLAINY. LEAVE with only your dignity and NO tupperware, for ONE night only, it will mark a time to be ALIVE.'

The windows of the restaruant allow those who gather to see the inside. People were gathered around, drinking.. dressed in their Sunday best, mingling with one another with laughter upon their lips. Suits and ties. Dresses and clutches. Not to mention the armed guards that litter amongst the gathering, occasionally watching. Two buff and burly men remain at the door, stopping people to check pockets and purses before their granted entry into the restaurant. And as the door opens, a smooth sound of jazz plays into the street which was staunched as soon as the door has closed.

Thankfully, only Cain would know what guise Raven held, and those who receive the message would know by the stroke..



A man stands in the window, his hand held up, fingers slowly curling into a fist with his thumb extended and finger pointed upward..

It was 9pm. Go time.


Others may be having a subtle approach. They may want to sneak in to pick their shot. They may want to understand the tactics of the enemy. Once upon a time, Cain Marko might have done the same, back in his mercenary days.

Not anymore.

He steps out of the alleyway across the street from the restaurant as Raven gives the signal and nods to the figure, giving them fair wwarning to get the living hell out of his way.

Because he casually grabs a nearby sedan with one hand, crumpling steel in his fist as he hefts it up onto his shoulder and starts to run, charging forward at the big, broad window of the place until he propels the body of the vehicle ahead of him and smashes right through it, blasting through the window and coming out doused in flaming gasoline, a human inferno of unrighteous fury, shattered glass and roaring, gargantuan bruiser.


From the battlefields of Poland, Russia, and Germany, to some lab, and lost in time to finally escaping whatever hellhole that he was kept in, Marcus has been keeping an eye on the movements of the Kitchen for some time. Nobody suspects the homeless, he's more or less invisible to anybody who looks in his direction. And with little memory of who exactly he is, beyond knowing that he was soldier for a time, he knows something bad when he sees it. And mob doesn't escape that particular opinion. So when one randomly winds up burnt to a husk or is found to have all their bones broken, it leaves a lot questions, but not really about who.

So the ad gets a little bit of interest out of him, reading between the lines. So he shows up, leaning against the wall, looking like just other beggar out looking for change. Cain passes, car in hand, causing him to step back only for a moment, before he realizes that must be some kind of cue. He waits only for a moment, allowing bystanders to get out of his way, starting to move forward slowly, the color of his eyes shifting from solid glowing blue, then to red, then black, then yellow.


In a nutshell, things have been crazy. The sort of crazy that would get most people shipped off to an asylum. Or at least, that's what it felt like for the newest albino to the Kitchen. The lines between hallucination and reality have blurred enough that Domino no longer knows which side she's living on. Fate, it seems, is having an absolute ball with this fact.

Another car, a (relatively) shorter black and blue coupe, suddenly locks up the brakes and screeches to a halt as a giant of a man comes charging right past the hood holding another..larger..car like a shield. Or perhaps a battering ram. Okay..that's one way to get the albino's attention.

In another instant the giant has the sedan illegally parked inside of the restaurant, and he has the gears in Dom's mind a-turnin.' She has no alliances, an opportunistic loner who's feeling more down on her luck than she probably should be. And this, right here..?

This is over seven feet of burning opportunity.

Before she can stop to question her own sanity she's out of the car, a nickel-plated .45 in her hand. She doesn't care who the big guy is and, frankly, she doesn't care. Blood is in the air, drawing the predators closer. This distraction comes free of charge. Who would she be to turn down the invitation? There must be -something- of value in there and her car has the trunk space to spare.


Cable, too, had been watching these people. He's had to settle for long distance recon and the occasional snatch-scan-dump on a mook who wandered down the wrong alley on the wrong night rather than long-term infiltration, though. He tends to stand out a little; the best he could manage was hitting a few public fronts in a trenchcoat and shades.

The ad wound up catching his attention during the morning's stake out, as he was leafing through the early edition and watching the crew's consigliere's apartment from a nearby rooftop. A couple quick reads was all it took to tell him that his timetable would need adjusting.

Some hours later, moments after the flaming giant breaks through the restaurant, there's a golden flare in the dining area. After a beat, the golden flare becomes a man with snow-white hair and something approximating a handgun that fires a scintillating blue bolt through the first armed man he sees rather than a bullet.

As what's left of the mobster smolders and falls, Cable charges towards the nearest table, slides across the top of it, then flips it up onto its edge so that he has a semi-covered vantage from which to take stock of things.


A couple walks down the street hand in hand, the woman leaning her head upon the mans shoulder as he tells her a story of his youth. They both stop as they see Cain, the woman shrieking in surprise and the man stepping -behind- the woman, wordless!


In those few seconds, the figure that stood at the window was gone. There was a silence, for a few people saw the car coming their way but there was confusion as to why.

But once it bounces into the restaurant, the boss was soon grabbed and dragged behind the bar swearing, three of his best and biggest bodyguards lifting and drawing their pistols to rain down hell towards the direction of where the car came from.

It was a big open window, anyone could get in. In fact, that couple on the street ran the other way as soon as they heard the hail of gunfire..

And they weren't the only ones shooting.

While a few bodies lay broken beneath the car, a few screams and shouts of distress is heard, the mingling few immediately jump into action to bear down their weaponry upon the stalking man.


A blue woman throws kicks and catches a gun from the air, turning swiftly to catch another in the throat with the butt of the gun. Just when she was about to move, that shock of a flare catches her attention, her hand raised up to shield her yellow eyes from the surprise. It looks like the calvary was here. Random elements keenly placed to keep the heat off of her brother.


As Cable moves into action, so does Raven, shifting into a downward crawl to avoid the hail of bullets that are now directed at the three inside of the restaurant. They were pinned down. Well, Cable and Raven were. Cain? That was another story all together.

But there was not to say that there weren't innocents there; for there were. A few of them run out of the opening that was made by Cain, one woman falling due to a shot in the back, dead upon impact, the man attempting to drag her ducks a hail of bullets then gives up. He takes off into a run, only to skid as he sees Marcus, unable to scream he falls to the ground, one leg lifted and hands shielding his face.

'Don't kill me! Please!'

A few others seemingly run into Domino's direction. One man hops up an runs across her sedan, jumping down to the ground to ghost into the alleyway, as another tries to follow but misses his step only to wind up folded across the trunk with a slide off and onto the ground. A woman shrieks as she sees another gun, finding no where to run… she ducks down behind Domino's car in hopes that the woman would find some 'girl-power' inside of her to let her live!


Bullets rain onto Cain, sparking across his face, his chest. He doesn't seem to care much. He lets go of the wreckage of the car, standing between the flaming halves of it as he flexes his hands. One man runs up with a shotgun, unleashing his sawed off right in the face of the monster.


Cain's hand lashes out with speed that's terrifying, given his power, crushing the man's skull like an overripe cantaloupe, a wet, squishing sound mingled with a nutcracker suite.

"Next," the big man snarls. He doesn't care about innocent bystanders. He's cutting loose. He's been playing nice for too damn long since he came home. "Bartender, get me a drink," he says, moving to charge into a pack of gunsels who looks like they're reconsidering their position.


Marcus allows the chaos to flow around him. It's an aspect of him being a sniper, let other move in while he picks off people from afar. He can't do that here, but he'll do what he needs to. Eyes flicker yellow, causing him to flick his wrist, pulling a gun-toting mobster from where he was standing out off the ground by some invisible force, slamming him against a wall. Another he picks out, color in his eyes now shifting to a glowing red. There's a gout of other-worldly fire gouts out from his hand, igniting another mobster, as if he created a straight line from point to point in one long flaming string.

One takes aim at the man in the dirty clothes, opening fire with a sub-machine gun. This time, his eyes change to black, and some kind of brown-golden hue of a sphere surronds him, which seems to just absorb the impact from the bullets that strike it, causing them to clatter to the ground. That man gets tossed into the car fire with a burst of a wave of unseen force, thrown physically across the street. Once he reaches the store front, he picks up a pistol that one of the mobsters had dropped, finding a grip, as if old and familiar at the same time.


Not even to the battlezone proper and Domino's already having to duck and cover, not from incoming fire but from incoming -pedestrians.- "Get the hell off my car!" she snaps out, already ducking behind the front of said car when some other lady drops down beside her.

And is given -such- a look. "You really don't want to be here."

Using her pistol she points to a nearby alley, returning her pale blue stare to the frightened civvie. "It's a five second run, flat-out. Ditch the heels and go, their shots won't catch you at that angle. And for god's sake keep your head down," she adds in a low hiss as she peers over the hood with narrow eyes. When the other lady doesn't seem too intent to move the albino snaps a look back at her, growling "-Go!-"

If that lady was looking for a hero to come to her aid then she'll have to keep looking elsewhere. Dom's got other thoughts on her mind.

The shiny pistol is brought out across the hood of the car, the pale woman's focus behind the sights drifting from one mobster to another within the restaurant. To hell with the crazy nonsense, the giant guy, the blue lady, the other guy that appeared out of nowhere, that homeless looking guy doing ..whatever the hell it is that he's doing… Stick with what she knows.

The first bullet snaps out with a flash across the ebony hood, punching through the plate glass window, then sparking off of Cain when he moves right..in her line of sight… She completely misses her mark—

—and completely obliterates the head of one of the boss's personal guards from behind cover.



Besides the handgun, Cable has the alien spawn of a rifle and a bazooka strapped to his back, a bizarre work of chrome and strange lights and weird articulation nearly as big as a man.

He leaves it where it is for now as she surveys the innocents and grimaces. "Stick to cover!" he shouts amidst the gunfire whizzing over his position. "Keep your heads down!"

Raven's on the ground. Cain is a giant. Marcus is only just entering. Domino— could be a problem, but she at least seems focused on the mobsters.

As soon as the warning has been issued, he decides to try and improve the bystanders' odds by holstering the handgun at his hip, hefting the table with his right hand, and charging towards a trio of mobsters with his makeshift shield covering most of his upper body. Blood spurts from his right shoulder when a bullet from yet another mobster who'd thought to try and pin him down catches him from behind; a second ricochets soundly off of his left bicep. A third misses entirely after Cable does a quick check over his shoulder, then adjusts just in the nick of time to let it fly by. The group behind the table stands its ground, firing away in the hopes of chipping away at the shield and catching the man behind it.

It takes until Cable's maybe five feet from their position, visible through the shreds in his table and leaving a broken red trail behind him that the trio begins to panic.

Which, coincidentally, is right when he opts to fling the table behind him and let it nearly take the fourth guy's head off so that he's free to vault over their cover and chuck one of them over it, also towards the fourth shooter.

Instinctively, he ducks, leaving him to be smothered when his flung paison sloughs off of the wall he collided with and falls.

"Where's the money?" he calmly asks the other two while stepping forward and wrenching the closest one's gun from his hand. The guy behind that mobster's shoulder starts squeezing— BLAM! BLAM! CLIK!

Cable staggers as the bullets sink a short ways into his chest, then plants his back foot, lets out a heavy exhale, and puts a bullet in the shooter's arm.

"Where… is the money?" he raspily repeats. A spent bullet slowly oozes out of his shoulder.


'There's mutants! They're all fucking muties!' One man cries out, as he's picked up in some sort of way and slammed to the wall. The force was great enough for him to be knocked outcold there after, and if he chooses to survive this night? It would be considered a miracle.

The woman that remains close to Domino was already in tears, her breath coming in very quick pants as her wild eyes stare all around her. 'Oh god oh god oh god!' She screams out, but quiets just enough to stare at the albino woman who was.. giving her instructions?

Girl-power in full force. She shifts her feet out of her heels and doesn't bother to grab the purse that was on the ground. She was content to gather her senses for a time, but the barked order to 'GO' scares her into running. And boy does she run. Ducked and tucked, right into the dark alley that the other person ran into.. fleeing to safety.

There were more people that flee from the direction of the carnage, one man wisely stops into a phone booth, his fingers randomly pressing buttons in sheer fright. A bullet whizzes by and shatters the glass of the booth, and the man ducks and immediately screams into the phone.


It was pure and total chaos; that was a given. That is what Raven was aiming for. But what she wasn't aiming for was the calibur of people that gathered to answer the call she put out in the newspaper.

One Domino, One Sigil, and One Cable..

With a peek of her head up and above, she begins to fire a few shots, all randomly spread to catch and knick a few of the firing mobsters; one takes a bullet to the arm, the other one to the knee, and horridly placed bullet shears between a mobsters legs which has him collapsing to the ground, releasing a sound that no grown man should ever create..

Though, the head boss hog that hides behind the bar was stuck. Domino caught one of his own in the temple, a true shot as any even if it wasn't intended. Cable easily drops one and the other was already attempting to pull the boss back, but he was struck with fear so much that the weight of his body sunk -TEN- times to the floor.

"TH..THE BACK!" He shrieks out. "I..ITS IN A SAFE IN THE BACCK!"

(A word about the money; you don't get this kind of rich through hard work and obeying the law. Businesses along the block have been paying their dues for protection and a few other people were strong-armed out of their wallets and jewels through lesser means.. It was payload for Cable and Domino.. if they choose to take it all.)


Cain doesn't need money, really. He doesn't eat anymore. Or sleep. Or need shelter. When he wants something, he can just take it. No one would dare deny him.

Confronted with a group of men, five of them all unleashing their guns on him, he reaches up and slams his hands through the ceiling above him, shattering wood and then pulling it down, pipes and wiring and all, right onto them. One guy gets a central bit of wiring in his mouth, shaking and quivering as he's electrocuted.

"See, yer jus' prejudiced. I ain't no mutant," he says, "I'm just the big ass motherfucker that's gonna rip your head off," he says, grasping the screaming man and doing literally that, tearing his skull from his spine the way a kid might rip open a candy bar wrapper.


There's something plucking at the edge of Marcus' mind. Somethinghe can't quite put a real feel on. It's not just the same sensation about being in a warzone, he knows that feeling from so long ago. But it's something else. Some kind of odd focus, like being able to ascertain what's a target and what isn't. But more cleanly. There's less hesitation involved and the man isn't sure if he really likes it.

A trio of men surge out of the building trying away fire from their boss. Marcus catches sight of him, raising a hand, eyes flashing blue for the first time. Suddenly the find themselves slowed, like they can't move at top speed, as if they were walking through. He only has to wait for a moment to get them grouped together close enough. Whenit gets close enough, he raises his hand again, flashing red. But the lance of magical fire doesn't lash out at them, but at the car next to them. More specifically, the open funnel where the gas cap should be. But it's not there.

So when the fire hits that particular spot, it causes a chain reaction. More specifically, it makes the car's gas tank explode. Right next to him. And yes, he did make sure that nobody else was standing near. Nobody but bad people. So when that car goes up, so does the three that had been caught in Marcus' snare. So they burn. And scream. Scream a lot, actually. By this point, through use of his magic, the arcane symbols burned onto his skin start to glow from under his shirt. And he walks past the inferno. Or more appropriately, he walks through the fire to his next target.


The scared gal left her purse behind. That's… Domino could almost give her an 'atta girl' for focusing on self-preservation over personal effects, though part of the albino is considering tossing the handbag into her car because ammo doesn't grow on trees.

The thought is still lingering when she's ducking and rushing -toward- the restaurant, just in time to hear the magic words: 'Safe in the back.' Now her mission has an actual objective..!

What remains of one of the windows soon gets a larger hole punched through it as Dom charges in (the front door's always a bad idea. People are pointing guns that way.) A table is vaulted. A chair is used as a springboard. Another mobster has just finished reloading and is coming back for more when he gets tackled, the wiry woman putting bullet #2 into his gut before they hit the floor. She rolls clear of the guy and is back up and twisting through the air in time for several more shots to pass -so- close to her, shiny pistol in hand sweeping back behind her to put bullet #3 into the gut-shot guy's head.

She hasn't stopped moving. Why the hell would she with all of this chaos going on?! Moving targets are much harder to hit!

Another mobster is grabbed, the two spinning as if dancing and exchanging places before he gets thrown off to the side into another table. Bullet #4 is now keeping his heart company, next to the other three his body happened to shield her from during their exchange.

Then she's clear and making a bee-line for the back room. In and out before anyone else can notice… At least, that's what she's hoping to accomplish. That, and getting her hands on a helluva lot of cash. Don't pay the ghost any mind, folks!


Cable's right eye - softly aglow since the moment he arrived - briefly swirls with a white surge as the boss shrieks. He doesn't breathe until the surge dies down a second later, at which point a little bit of blood begins to drip from his nostril.

"Much obliged."


After dropping the gun, he takes off running - not quite as quickly as before, what with the bullets still being worked out of his body - away from the front entrance, ready to punch his way through walls to reach 'the back' and the safe contained therein if need be. Along the way, he unholsters the sidearm at his hip, both because there's an outside chance of there being some especially disciplined crooks back there who didn't come running at the sound of unspeakable violence in the front area, and because the dining room isn't precisely clear just yet:

The guy who shot him from behind has finally managed to wriggle out from under the roughly headless body of his comrade, so his first act is to bolt upright and fire wildly at the madman with the metal arm. As if scripted, Cable snaps off a shot behind himself just after the firing begins, engulfing the bullets coming his way in another crackling blue stream that ultimately scythes through the gangster and leaves a smoking hole in the wall behind him.



Sirens wail along the street, rushing and waving in and out of traffic. They heard the call and they were on their way, along with fire crews and ambulances to pick up the wounded or dead..


Bodies were everywhere. One mobster slips in the blood which has Raven drawing forward to snag him, sliding him behind the table. She was all fisticuss, beating him until his gun is raised and a shot goes off…

Then nothing from her direction at all.

Don't try to inspect, while the man lays in a gurgling mess, Raven herself was not there. She was already on the move.

A loud explosion rocks the center of Hell's Kitchen, the car flying slightly into the air, only to be turned upon his head as those inside begin to scream. Hell's Kitchen had already gotten it's name; but it was cemented in stone due to Marcus for the bodies that cook within the metal contraption and the current surroundings of the street.

The last remains of the innocents flee the area, and two minutes out the police were arriving. One could hear the cacophony of wailing alarms and screeching tires as they swing/wave through the streets.


It was surprisingly empty save for one body that lays upon the ground, his rump high in the air, a stray bullet caught him in the back but without blood pooling, it was clear that it traveled and killed him instantly. There was also the sound of crying; the waisttaff wisely locking and holding themselves up into the bathroom to avoid the outside, and it was clear that those doors would be bypassed.

Yet the door at the back of the building was left ajar, and a flickering of lights give way to a person rushing around in back. A man, clad in a businesses suit who looked to be one of the most trusted guards, was currently ass deep in the safe, stuffing deeds, money, and whatever else he could get his hands on in his duffle.


"No.. NO.. WAIT!" The hands of the boss wave and waggle in front of Cable, but that lone shot snaps his head back, spraying grey matter upon the ground below. The primary objective was dead, and there was no reason for her to remain.. not .. well.. she was staying.

"BROTHER!" Raven shouts out, taking a leap to kick a foot up his back, winding around his arm in such a way that places her limber self upon his shoulder. She was bleeding, but it was not as serious as it could have been. "Leave. NOW."

Winding down his arm and skittering off into the restaurant behind Cable, who was possibly behind Domino, that only left Marcus and Cain to deal with the aftermath..

Because the police would be there in



Cain wasn't paying any attention to alarms or screams, but Raven calling out to him does get his attention from the mayhem around him. His hands are drenched in blood, he smells of smoke and fire and gasoline. Bodies and broken wood surround him.

This was his happy place, in some ways. But Raven snaps him out of it. Not that he cared much about the cops coming. THey couldn't do much to him. But smacking them around might earn some annoying attention he didn't want to deal with. "Don't drag ass," he calls to her when she goes in the back. And then he simply walks through the wall next to him, thick fingers tearing plaster and pipe as he exits into the alley.


Looks like his job is done here. Marcus scans for any more targets, but doesn't really seem to see any. Nor of the other that were also raising hell with him. Might be his time to leave. Which is easy enough. Still standing in the stree, and hearing the sirens, he looks down near his feet, and sees what he's looking for. The body of a dead mobster is brushed aside from the usage of whatever magic he weilds, looking down at the manhole cover. It's used against, directed at a particular spot in the large metal cover, causing it pop open and hop a few feet in the air, clattering next to the hole. One last look around the area, as if looking for the others. Doesn't even know who they are, or the goal was. But killing mobsters has a particular fun to it. A sniff and then vanishes out of sight down the hole. Living as a homeless bum in the alley ways of the Kitchen has given him enough knowledge of where the sewers run from enough exploriving, so he knows where to go to avoid detection or being caught.



Cable picks the wrong wall initially, barreling into the kitchen where a few cooks are hiding out beneath prep tables. He leaves a trail of ruined food and damaged pans on his way towards another wall—


"Sorry. Clear out. The shooting's mostly done."

Cable jerks his gleaming thumb towards the door, then clenches that hand and narrows his eyes on a bathroom mirror—


— spraying the back room with plaster, porcelein, and water from a busted main.


Bullet #5's new home is a real no-brainer.

There's fire and explosions and pure chaos everywhere around Domino, familiar in some ways yet alien in others. No amount of training runs could ever properly simulate the scents assaulting her olfactories, and somehow the heated shockwave of a car going up in flames just seems so -different,- somehow. It's the same, only ..not. She doesn't give it too much thought but the memories will stay with her for days to come, burned into her senses.

In the meantime she's about ready to rummage through a de-brained mobster's coat pockets for all of the loot he's already squirreled away on his person—


Like a startled cat the albino leaps up and away from the dead goon, already getting hit with a shower of cold water and powdered plaster as she spins around and levels her bright and shiny 1911 in a two-handed stance right at Cable's head, pale blue eyes wide behind the sights.

She might have even said something really witty here if she didn't happen to be so damn concerned. Didn't this guy just shrug off half an arsenal's worth of bullets..? Someone his size, there's no way that everyone would have -missed-…


"I WON'T!"

It was a mess. Footprints lead the way towards the back where the money was. Two of them were already approaching and the sound of the building itself breaking was loud. And yet she stops. She stops clear in the middle of the hallway, straddled over the dead body that remains to peer into the room in front of her. Who were these people? Her invisible comrade in arms..

She surely has seen the skill in which they put out but she has seen nothing like the monstrosity that is Cable..


The klaxon-like ring of the sirens were loud as the cars skid right into place, the many police officers filtering from their cars with their guns raising and pointing towards Marcus but..

'He's just a homeless person! GET OUT OF THE WAY!' One officer shouts.

They were careful in their approach. Not militaristic, but as soon as the first one breaches the door, he shouts 'FREEZE!' And promptly throws up.

There was so much blood, it was a scene that they've only seen in photos akin to the Valentine's Day Massacre, they weren't equiped to deal with so much and it was a waking blessing that the fire department would be there to hose away the blood once evidence was collected. Though.. tainted now by undigested peas and corn.

Is.. is that a potato he forgot to chew?


The lone mobster was dead, blood pooling from the back of his head as he lays there, pockets filled with wallets and dollar bills that he haphazardly stuffed into his pockets in a moment of panic. The office itself was ruined, plaster now littered the floor, desk blown out of the way by a rushed push, a chair was overturned and drawers were opened and rifled through as it remains at it's angle.

Many papers were there. Some deeds as stated before, some of the books of the restaurant, ledgers and recordings of business done, an inventory sheet to stock the place healthily with fresh foods bought in bulk. In other words? It was a right mess.

And the footfalls of the police became louder and louder, as well as their shouts, counting down the bodies that litter the floor.


Cain goes out of the alley out of the back, away from where most of the cops are coming. Unfortunately for him, one cop goes around to secure the backdoor, a local patrolman running to the scene and thinking fast.

"Freeze!" he shouts at Cain, his hand shaking. Juggernaut reaches out and closes a hand over the gun, crushing it in his grip until it bends and warps, then drops it at the kid's feet.

"They don't pay you enough fer this one, kid. Go back to yer precinct," he says, casually shoving past and reaching into his vest to get a cigar.


For someone his size, Cable is fast. Domino beats him to the draw, but he's only a split-second behind her, left arm dropping while the right points what could easily be mistaken for a B-movie prop towards one of her knees in turn. It'd be enough time for him to take a bullet if she was feeling inclined to try her luck.

"Mine's a little bigger," he points out in a calm, sandpaper voice. His blue left eye flicks towards the dead guy hanging out of the safe, then back to Domino.

"Guessing you aren't with them, eh?" Slowly, he lowers the gun until it's pointed at the ground.

"Fifty-fifty and immediate evac, or keep it all and see what they" he twitches his head towards the door and the footfalls behind it "think about all of this. Deal?"

plink! goes a bullet as it tumbles out of his chest. There's still some blood oozing steadily from the wound - the others, too - but it's a trickle more than a stream.

Perversely, someone from the bathroom actually sticks around on account of the real-ass Hollywood stand-off unfolding before him, spellbound and white-knuckled as he keeps a stall door cracked.


Some out there might call this 'checkmate.' "Mine's a little easier to aim," Domino stoically replies to Cable. Part of her is, in fact, considering trying her luck here. Yet..there's something about the guy which leaves her thinking that maybe it's not worth finding out what happens if she pulls the trigger. Case in point, he's the first to lower his weapon.

A moment later and she follows suit, along with releasing a slow breath. Here she also glances back to the dead guy. "Is it that obvious?" Like there's any reason for her to be dodging the question. Then a bullet falls out of the big guy's chest. She miiight be staring.

Okay, yeah. She's absolutely staring.

She's also running way low on ammo and, with the adrenaline rush dying down, now she's hearing the cops surrounding the building. (Is that the sound of someone throwing up in the other room..?)

Know when to push your luck and when to fold. Immediate evac? One brow hooks upward, expecting the offer to be a bluff. Still, beggars can't be choosers. She'll call him on it.


Can this guy make good on his promise in time, that's the real question…


Raven had two options. Go through the two, go out of the wall, go back and face down police to be killed..

But her option has always remained the same. This was apart of the plan that she really didn't tell Cain. That she wanted to kill two birds with one stone. She needed to get -inside- the precinct to do what needed to be done. For everyone.. everyone was going to pay.

The footsteps were closing in, and the blue woman immediately shifts, turning her back towards them with her hands risen high, gun hanging from her fingers in preparation to surrender.


Raven does what she was told in that moment, her knees collapsing to the ground, the guns falling to her side as she leans forward to carefully belly down.. but not where there was blood. She was covered in her own enough…


Escape is..presumably, right around the corner. Close. Closer than Domino can see. Which..is also part of the problem. Cops have -completely surrounded the building.- How are they going to escape, is he going to bash a hole through the floor so they can take to the sewers? Teleportation is kind of outside of her scope of familiarity, so in her eyes the situation is extremely freaking dire.

When the cops start yelling there's that instinctive feeling inside of her that snaps. They're out of time. -She's- out of time, and with it all of her remaining options.

If only she knew to hang on just another half of a second…

Too little, too late.

Fight or flight kicks in, and Domino fires. She's just really..really damn lucky that she only had two bullets left in her gun and the first to arrive on the scene are wearing vests. Human or mutant, no officer takes kindly to a cop killer.

For the albino, instead of an easy escape as promised she gets a baton to the gut and a bloody floor to reflect upon. At least Cable would have been true to her word had she not forced everyone's hand. Better luck next time.



Cable grabbed one of the deeds first thing. Now he's busy stuffing bills into the various pouches lining his belt, entirely unconcerned with the threats beyond the door. This probably doesn't do Domino's nerves much good, but if they're splitting this 50/50, then they may as well have a nice pool to work with, right?

"Alright," he exhales as the wood begins to give way. "Now just—"

He's extending his right hand towards her when the door falls in and Domino reacts.

"Wait—!" he exclaims, eyes widening and body leaning towards her. She takes a baton to the gut and crumples; another cop works his way around his partner and Domino, brandishing a baton of his own and cutting the cyborg off from the albino.

"Damnit— Professor! Bodyslide by one, now!"

Golden light pours from his body, flooding the room for a brilliant second.

When the light fades, Cable is gone.


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