1963-10-31 - Unblocking the Past
Summary: Having met once before, although Domino doesn't remember it, she and Silencer suffer a case of blocked up memories — an tenement plumbing…
Related: None
Theme Song: None
silencer domino 

Fade in…

There's no place like home.

Such as this place.

'Home' is the last word Terry Walker — A.K.A. Silencer — would use to describe this particular tenement in Hell's Kitchen. Since his return to the States, the Australian merc has been keeping a low profile, taking his time to suss out his fellow 'brothers' — men and women alike, in the aptly named 'Brotherhood of Mutants'.

There is no jingle of keys, no sound of footsteps upon the stairs or along the halls, nor even the noise of someone walking across the kitchen floor — straight for the fridge.

Walker has blood staining the collar of his shirt, from a nick in his left ear. There are other injuries — all minor — from his last job, and now he plans on taking it easy for the remainder of the evening, with a beer and a TV dinner.



The bank job, while not -exactly- according to plan, did work out for Domino in the end. Oddly enough it was during an entirely solo celebration at an Irish pub that she happened to be too close to another wanted man and nearly got herself shot for the trouble. She's laid low for about a day to make sure there really wasn't any heat on her tail before making her way back to more familiar territory. Where she has some allies.

Well-armed allies.

Bullet-proof allies.

There's a bit more noise (but not a whole lot!) made when she unlocks the door to the Brotherhood's primary safe house and lets herself in, closing and locking it behind her with a heavy sigh. "It's gettin' ugly out there again," she calls out by way of greeting should anyone else be 'home.'


Terry looks up. Footsteps vibrate through the floor, and with a bit of concentration, the rugged, unshaven man makes it so he can hear what is going on. Closing the microwave door with a frozen dinner inside, he sets the timer going and calls out:

"In 'ere! 'Ungry?"

He doesn't recognise the voice; given that Domino's manner — and calling out, too — would suggest she's a 'regular' here, Terry finds himself waiting to find out who she is, rather than grabbing a knife or drawing a gun.


Domino lets the heavy biker jacket slip free of her shoulders, carelessly bundling it up then tossing it onto the couch. Around here it's unnecessary weight, though with its absence the dual pistol holsters at the small of her back are now openly on display.

"Sounds good. What's today's special?"

It's here that the albino, half in a black shirt and half in black biker leathers, comes to lean against the kitchen doorway with arms folding together. "Huh, another new recruit? You look like you've seen a couple of tours."


Terry snorts.

"Huh, too ri — ."

As the former soldier turns around to see Domino, his eyes go wide with shock and recognition, and he draws a sharp breath in through his nostrils. The Australian goes to exclaim a single word upon releasing that breath — although when he yells, no sound comes out at all:


The beer flies out of Terry's hand, but missing Domino entirely. Instead the dark glass shatters against the wall, showering part of the room in frothy rain. Meanwhile, Terry reaches for his sidearm, preparing to fire.

What the bloody hell are YOU doin' 'ere?!?

Again, all silent.


… What..just happened, here..? Domino can very clearly see this guy in the kitchen. She can see the change of his expression. She can see him -trying- to yell one word of ..recognition, really? But, where the hell..





The instant he reaches for a gun her own eyes snap wide open, pushing herself away from the doorframe and unholstering both of her .380's in turn. Pointing both directly at the other man. Is this a test? Did Raven suddenly have a change of heart from when the albino punched her in the face last week?

Then something really messed up happens. She tries to yell back 'who the fuck are you?!' And yet..no sound is made.

The look of total surprise only grows more intense from here.


As Domino ducks behind the doorframe, Terry knocks over the kitchen table with a telekinetic burst and takes cover behind that. What follows must be like those old silent movies… except without the piano music in the background.

Music would be nice.

More noise to use.

Bullets fly. They rip into the walls, the furniture — even if it IS crap furniture — and some of the crockery. The metal coffee pot takes a bullet straight through it, causing all the precious, beloved liquid to spill over the bench and over the floor.

Terry scowls, and fires again from behind the table.

What the hell are you — ?? No, that won't do. She can't hear him. He can't hear her. Bloody hell! Bloody, bloody 'n damned bloody hell!! Still no use.

Something else that is also of no use: his shots. These walls are thin. He knows where the albino girl went — ish — surely SOME shot is supposed to hit home? Fuck. Terry ducks back again in order to reload.

How can she be here?? And why didn't SHE attack first? Like last time… The albino moved like clockwork last time… Thinking of clocks, Terry uses his mind to rip one off the wall, and floats it — fast — out into the hall. He cannot see where it hits, or WHAT it hits, much less hear it.

Sometimes these powers are a friggin' headache.


Okay -what the fuck- this guy just flipped a table without even touching it. And STILL Domino never hears a thing! Even when she pulls the triggers on her pistols, she can -feel- them just fine as they slam back into the web of her hands. She can feel the concussive heat erupting from the muzzles, the bouncing of hot brass and the dusting of hot carbon upon her skin, everything is there! All of the pieces are in play!

Except for the damn volume. Like someone put the entire world on mute.

From behind the wall Terry wouldn't know that she's trying to scream at the top of her voice, no longer concerned with speech so much as she is trying to make a noise, -any- noise. SOMEthing that she can still hear! Because as it stands it feels like she's having another psychotic breakdown!

Pure silence follows as another volley of pistol caliber projectiles punch through the kitchen walls, spraying fragments of wood, tile, and plaster out into the room beyond. A knife on the counter gets struck in a way that sends it flipping around like a demented helicopter before the tip buries itself into the overturned table Terry's hiding behind.

Then a clock very nearly decks her across the head, silently crashing somewhere out of the room. She's already getting dusted in plaster from the other man's shots.

Pure silence. Pure..fucking..silence. Rather than try to reload either of her pistols she throws them aside and swipes a knife from her belt, crouched low like a tigress preparing to leap. Maybe if she can't hear anything then neither can he..?


This isn't working.

Just like last time.

He needs intel — and for that, he needs sound.

The man startles when a knife ends up sticking through the table-top just centimeters from his head. With no clue that the albino woman — assassin! — is creeping up on him, Terry lashes out with another telekinetic burst. This time the attack is shaped as a single concussive blast through the table, in the hopes of hitting Domino too…

Instead, the kinetic energy misses the 'assassin' entirely (even though Terry, technically attacked first), but blasts a hole through the wall… striking the toilet seat in the bathroom.

The toilet… erupts, showering the little bathroom with toilety water. A second later, the sinks in the kitchen also explode, drenching the Australian — and likely Domino as well.


Things randomly exploding usually help a person to instinctively leap, if there's anything left of them to jump. Domino can't see the telekinetic blast so much as see the damage that it causes, tearing the table in half, punching a notch out of the doorway, ripping up an already badly battered sofa, then hitting the bathroom where the toilet suddenly explodes with a full return of all sound.

THAT gets her to jump!

Suddenly she's getting sprayed with water and ceramic chips, nicking through her shirt into the pale skin beneath as she suddenly reappears lunging -right- for Terry with knife in hand. She may have missed the brunt force of his attack but she certainly hasn't missed the opportunity that his loss of cover has presented!

This skirmish is about to get awfully personal. At least she hasn't completely flipped her lid yet! She is yelling out with her attack, however. Maybe just so that she can hear herself yell again!


Two things happen in the space of a heartbeat as Terry finds himself attacked by a knife-wielding Domino. One: he brings his sidearm to bear in an attempt to shoot her — at point-blank range — and then Two: his eyes widen as something occurs to him, and instead of firing, he uses the gun to try and block Domino's knife-thrust.

This has happened before.

Trying to shoot Domino then… years ago, now, had resulted in the gun backfiring and temporarily wrecking Terry's hand. He is not risking that again!

As luck would have it (and that has special meaning when dealing with Domino), the knife catches the gun right in the trigger-guard, firing the weapon straight up.

The bullet disappears through the ceiling, narrowly missing Terry's forehead, and he glares in shock at his near-killer. "You tried ta kill me, ya daft sheila!" he yells out in his Aussie brogue. "What the bloody-hell's goin' on?! Back fer more?!"

No more telekinesis for now; the poor sod needs to be able to talk! Normally 'gun-fu' (hand-to-hand with guns shooting), the aim of the game is to actually fire one's weapon — preferably into one's opponent. In THIS case, however, Terry is doing his level best to NOT shoot his gun.

At all.

While trying not to get stabbed at the same time.

"Blimey, yer actin' weird fer an assassin!"


Something in the albino lady snapped back there. Maybe it was the exploding toilet? Surprise and confusion have vanished, completely replaced with survival instinct and what may as well be considered murderous rage. It's testament to Terry's own skill that her attack catches the one part of a handgun which can easily twist and lock up the blade altogether. Enough force and he could have snapped the blade altogether. Instead he ruins the razor's edge and entangles the two lethal pieces of steel as swiftly as the loosed bullet pierces the ceiling.

This time it's anything but silent!

The knife is abandoned, it's not helping her any. This fight's transitioning to melee, the pale lady growling as she sends one fierce swing of a fist or a foot in Terry's direction after another. His own training keeps anything lethal from getting through, and she takes a few rough hits in return. It's all worth it, however! This crazy bitch has a plan…

No warning is given when she ducks low and dances around Terry's side, swiping the remaining holstered pistol from his person. As fast as lightning she racks the slide while coming back around, pressing the barrel square against his forehead, and —


Terry doesn't need to use his power to silence the room following the strike of a dead primer. Soaked in cold water and pinkish blood, breathing heavily through her teeth, Domino stares at the man with naught but a dead bullet now separating the two. Then she suddenly steps back and releases the gun as if it had just shocked her. It falls toward the floor —

— then fires the 'dead' round into the ceiling as it strikes the ground.

As it turns out, albinos can get more pale.


Terry goes quiet. Veeeery quiet.

No, he doesn't absorb any more soundwaves from the room or anywhere else — although he is unconsciously muting his own heartbeat. Can't help that — but he stops moving, stops trying to talk, and stops fighting.

Slowly he raises his hands, both empty, and looks askance at Domino — with increasing amounts of surprise evident in his rugged features. "Ooookay," says he in his slow, Australian drawl. "I dig that yer… 'avin' a moment. Lot o' crazy goin' on 'ere, luv. Why do I get the feelin' you think you 'aven't seen me before? C'mon — New York, Upstate? Few years back?"

He, still half-crouching, half-kneeling on the floor, leans forward a bit. "You tried to bump me off while I was on the job? No?" Then he glances down at the discarded gun that had misfired.

It had misfired in her hands.

Not his.

Ooohhh, that is so many degrees of weird right now.


That 'moment' pretty well fled the scene the moment that the gun didn't fire when it was supposed to. A misfire is one thing. It could be caused by any number of various fail points in any firearm's design. Domino's intimately familiar with all of them! But a hang-fire…

She knows the odds of that happening. It goes way beyond a plain old misfire.

She opens her mouth, pauses, then gives a slight shake of her head, completely oblivious to the water now sweeping around her feet as it floods outward from the trashed bathroom.

"I've never seen you before in my life," she finally manages to say, her voice actually trembling softly. Not just from adrenaline, either.

A quick glance down at the fallen gun is risked, then almost immediately followed by her kicking it across the floor where it bounces off of one wall and comes to a gentle landing against another. She's treating it like a demon possessed it, unsafe and completely untrustworthy!

"I have no idea who you are," she says again, suddenly unsure of what to do with herself. This time it's followed by a near-whispered "What the hell is going on…"


Terry sits back on his arse.

This is just too weird.

"Lady…" he starts to say, but instead massages his forehead — then his temples — with his hand, in pain. After all, a gun DID just go off inches from his face.


He must have absorbed some of it, or he'd be deaf for real, right now. Still… some is a far cry from enough. "Lady… fer cryin' out loud." And he gestures to Domino with an open palmed hand. "I threw a fuckin' piano at you! … 'Course it missed and totalled my car, but… a flying, fucking piano is NOT something you ferget!"

He goes quiet after that, still rubbing at his head and trying to 'will' the pain away. "What're ya doin' here? You coulda killed me easy — why didn't you? You were… bloody terrific before…"

He coughs.

"Sort of. I'm still here, so…"


All she can do is slowly shake her head before finally being able to pull herself away from him. 'Weird' is certainly a word for it! Right now Dom needs the counter (the rather ruined counter) for support, leaning back heavily against it and staring at the floor. Looking right through the miniature flood. The downstairs neighbors are soooo not going to be happy.

But what's even worse…

"Raven's gonna kill us both…" she quietly declares. Like this is the biggest of her concerns! ..Then again, maybe it is. Though when Terry starts going on about how good she was before

'Before' what?

Once more she stares at Terry with that wintery gaze. "You weren't part of the Project. I would have remembered you there. I—I've never been in this state before, not since I first got here a month ago. I don't — I don't have any fucking idea who you are. How do you know me? How can you know me? The only ones that knew me before I got here — ," she abruptly ends, an almost wild look returning to her eyes.

"You're not from the Project. You're not."

She pinches her eyes shut and holds a hand to her temple, trying to pull her own thoughts together. "Here, this place..this is our safe house. This is supposed to be our quiet getaway in the Kitchen and we just fucked up the kitchen SHIT. Raven's gonna kill us both," she says again.


"So you know Raven then…" Terry lets his head fall back against the cupboard with an audible 'thud'. It's amazing how reassuring — how normal — a simple noise can be, when everything is usually silent.

"That's somethin'. Shit." Terry closes his eyes and says nothing for a while. Fucking headache. "Guess we'll be on clean-up fer a while. No more big jobs — cleaning fucking toilets."

He pauses.

"Replacing then cleaning fucking toilets," the Aussie amends, then he looks directly at Domino. "You seriously don' remember? I was on a job — simple weapons retrieval fer some bigwigs in the business. You show up, wreck everythin' — includin' my hand — ," and he holds it up to show the scars on his right hand. " — and… I tried to drop a piano on you. How the bloody hell that missed… jeez."

He thuds his head against the cupboard again.

"You really don' remember? I'm… bloody offended at that."


"Of course I know Raven, I'm working for her!" Domino suddenly snaps out with a frown and an agitated gesture of her hand.

Right now it's easy for her own mind to wander. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. There's so much left to try and make some amount of sense out of but she doesn't know where to start. She's also not all that certain she wants to know the answers!

"At least we didn't have to clean the last one, Fred might have used it last," she mutters aloud. Then her attention snaps back onto Terry, staring at his own scarred hand before her own leap away from the counter and sweep out wide. "I don't know you! I've never fucking known you! I don't know what this is about a piano..I don't know what this is about a failed assassination..I don't know where half of the sound went when you were attacking me before… Who are you, how do you know me, WHY are you HERE?!"


"And how the fucking hell do we turn the water off!?"

Is it really any wonder why she has so much trouble hanging onto reality?


"Water system is downstairs," Terry explain in a flat, tired voice. "And I work for Raven, too…" He jabs himself with a thumb in the chest. "My name's Silencer — or Sy, if that's easier. I'm a… whatever the hell we freaks are. And I'm…"

He trails off.

It is at this moment that Terry realises he is sitting in water — water from the sink, yes, and… water from the exploded toilet. The bathroom flooding has reached the kitchen… and Terry's trousers and backside.

"…an' I'm sitting in liquid shit." FUCK! The expletive is silent, having been absorbed, while the man's telekinetic powers start carefully pushing the effluent away from him and back to the bathroom.

Maybe Sy should've been called… 'The Mop'?


"'Mutant,'" Domino automatically replies with a weary sigh. "Great, just..fucking wonderful. Nice of her to make sure I got that memo. Not that it would have mattered any," she adds with a low, frustrated growl. "Yeah, hi. I'm Domino. And I'm not ..I'm…" 'Not a mutant?' Well, shit. It sounds dumb even to her trying to claim as much right now! But…

Forget it. She can worry about that problem later. And Terry's telekinetic fluid removal system is as fascinating as it is creepy. Oddly enough this doesn't cause her to freak out any. It's kind of hard to top what they just went through!

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume that dinner's no longer on the table, so I'm gonna go kill the water before this becomes any more of a mess. Jeezus, this is gonna cost a lot to clean up," she mutters in a dark tone. All of that money from the bank job a few nights ago… How much of it is going to have to go into building renovations and paying people off?

"We're dead. You and me both. Our 'boss' just recently got back from a two year stint in Hell, don't you know. This should all be very interesting," she says with as much sarcasm dripping off of her words as bathroom water is running off of her boots.


Terry's head droops forward.

He'd put his face in his hands, but they've been sitting in effluent on the floor. There's no way he's touching his face with liquid waste… oooh no. "Fine," says he after a bit. "Bloody fine. C'mon, I'll show you where the water switch is. Then…"

He sighs.

"We'll think of somethin'. Few pricey jobs around at the moment; maybe Raven'll let us take on one o' those to make up fer… all this. Dunno about you, but I like to think m'self useful. Ish. Swell."

An idea occurs.

"What'dya say we go out fer a bite — and blame this crap on the neighbours? That could work."


It's really difficult to figure out a gameplan right now. Domino slowly looks up and surveys the scene. It looks like a warzone, and smells just about as bad. The bullet holes will be more difficult to explain. The ruined table and couch can be disposed of. But the sound… Most of their skirmish took place in pure, absolute silence. Just two gunshots made it out.

Then she looks back to the broken toilet and sink.

"Someone flushed a cherry bomb."

The idea takes root in a heartbeat. Awful, disgusting water be damned, she grabs a cooking pot which already has a pair of holes in it from where a stray bullet had passed through then starts tracking down all of the pieces of evidence pointing to a gun and knife fight. Into the pot they'll go. They can be cleaned out later.

"Some punk neighbor kid was fucking with the plumbing. We're on the top floor, end of the shockwave. We've got a three in four chance they'll buy the story and a one in six chance the insurance will cover most of the damage. Do whatever cleanup you can with that ..weird..thing that you do," she says with a dismissive, almost disgusted, motion of her hand.


Agreeing with Domino, Sy/Terry stands up and starts shouting a number of deliciously-colourful expletives, one after another… of course, no sound comes out. Nothing. At the same time, the water on the floor is pushed back and back and back… with rather expert precision…

Until the floor is merely 'damp' and not 'swimming'.

Of course it will still need cleaning properly, to which end Terry stands against the wall, shouting silent curses all the while — using his TK to get mop, bucket etc and get to work.

It takes time, but it's still faster than if he had tried to do it by hand. He doesn't take noise from anywhere else — just himself — oh, and the people next door who are causing a continual thumping against the wall for reasons unknown.

They'd have to be drunk to be 'doing that' rather than reacting to the mess of things Silencer and Domino have just made of the apartment right next to them…

New Yorkers…


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