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Mutants & Masterminds: The Magisterium - Staging Ground


Dawn OOC

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Mole National Park, Central Ghana

Savannah stretched before the black hole, which marred the natural beauty of late-afternoon Ghana. The animals in the area were keeping their distance from the strange humans there. The smells coming from them made the wildlife nervous.

John’s arm itched but he didn’t move to scratch it. His focus was on that black hole, waiting for their brethren to arrive. Who would be first? Mary, the reluctant escapee? Travis, the furious kinetic? Maybe Gold with his physical prowess would be first. In his heart though, he wanted it to be Lamia. He was dreading seeing her; she was one of his regrets.

Ty-ty was next to him, using the table as a shield and holding the extra clips on the gun. Tyrone’s youngest sister had been training with him for a while for this task and had proven herself to him. It was her job to reload or cock it or do anything he might have done with his left hand. She was young but had her older brother’s reliability and intelligence.

The flat plane of the warp rippled a little, signaling incoming. John exhaled and blanked all thoughts from his mind, preparing to shoot. But when the slight girl emerged, he stayed his hand. It was Mary, or looked like her. “Get behind me! Hurry up!”

The girl skittered to the side and said, “Th… there’s more people coming. Don’t use that on them? Please?”

“I will not shoot any people,” he assured her, remembering that she was soft on humans and electing not to mention that humans were not people. “Now clear the way.” She nodded and scurried behind him. “And don’t bother Tyrone. He’s the gentleman providing the ride.”

There was another ripple, larger this time. Do not be a tank, he thought. Instead a floating slab of concrete pushed through, holding the other escapees. “Come on, David.” The woman on the slab looked at him, frowned and said, “John of Howsted?”

John smiled awkwardly. “Hello, Lamia.”

The cell phone on the ground started to ring; Ty-ty looked down at it and said, “It’s Matt.”

“Shit. Come on, David.” It seemed to take forever before the flaming form darted through the warp. Tyrone released it with sigh and the warp collapsed. “Matt called,” John reported.

“I’m working on getting him out,” Tyrone reported, his eyes closing in concentration.

David turned to the four mutants he had rescued. “Welcome to freedom,” he said to them, smiling. “We can celebrate in a moment, but we have to get the tracking chips out of you before we go home.” He picked up a case, opened it and set it on a second table. “Who’s first?”

Behind him, another black hole started to form. It took roughly thirty seconds for it to solidy into a black disc of nothingness.

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The slab hit the ground with a resounding thud sending tremors through the ground and scattering a flow of small wild birds that had been hiding in the grasses. Travis heaved in a breath and turned back to the impossible portal between here and there. He wasn't going to leave Sol behind, especially when he was plenty of a match for the steroidal psychopath that was apparently the man's sister. Instead he saw his emancipator fly through the portal seconds before it winked out like a great black eye.

Still aloft on his own rough disc of stone, Travis dropped the sphere of orbiting material, sending a rain of stone, concrete, metal, and other materials to the savanna below. With a sigh he dropped to a sitting position, hunched over and feeling the weariness of battle as adrenaline left his system. He was out of shape, which was no shock since he'd been on ice for who knows how long. He looked up, his platform lowering to within a few feet of the ground, "Hey, what's the date?" He wanted to find out how much time had passed first, but then he would start looking for May, and if she was gone he'd bathe in the blood of those that had been responsible.

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The warp Tyrone had just opened, pulsed and two women, one astonishingly beautiful and the other still attractive and green-haired to her companion's blonde, entered through, obviously tired and having emerged from a battle. They were followed by a black-haired young man with electrical burns on his skin, and Matt.

The warp closed up behind them, and Jeremy sighed in relief as he started rubbing the scorched areas on his skin. "So this is one whole rescue op eh? Anyone need healing?" He asked in addition, withdrawing a hand from now pristine skin, clearly healed up.

I hope nobody minds my helping get Rebekka, Matt and Mirage on the scene.

HP: 2

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Mary couldn't seem to decide between gawking at all the people and asking questions. More than once she started to say something; to ask something, only to break off when more refugees came through. She'd never been in the presence of more than a few people at once before. She'd known there were a lot of people, but only in a distant, book-fact kind of way. It was hard tell who to pay attention to! Everyone was saying something or doing something, and she had no time to say or do anything herself from trying to keep up with it all!

Finally she managed to ask, "Tracking chip?"

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Lamia stumbled off the asphalt slab as it landed with a thump on the ground. She glanced at the telekinetic mutant, "By which calendar?" At his blank stare, she shrugged and spent a moment adding up memories. "By the Christian calendar, which is the last one I knew to be used regularly, it is most likely March fourth of the two thousand and twelfth year of their lord. I might be off days or weeks, though I doubt more than a month."

At the sun-man's mention of chips, she stepped forward, pulling off the ruined scraps of the negligee she'd rescued in, revealing fresh burn scars along with the purple and black bruising along her arm and the gore still spattering her legs. Modesty appeared to be a trait lost on the mutant one of their rescuers had identified as Lamia. She lifted up her left breast, pinching a section where the skin creased underneath and forcing a small bump of foreign material up to the surface. "This is the only one I know of. I do not think there are others, but I cannot be certain."

I used the date that the rescue threads started. I can adjust to another date, if you want, Dawn, but Lamia would have a rough idea of how much time had passed and most likely have heard dates on a regular basis given her use in the compound.

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"Two thousand ... twelve? Two thousand twelve?!!" Travis rocked back as if struck, the platform sliding without friction and carrying backwards. "Five years. They took five years!" A scream of primal rage and pain ripped from him, his features contorting. With a cry he flung the disc of concrete he sat upon away, lobbing it at the speed of a pitch toward the horizon. The object dwindled from sight as it flew, before landing a mile or more away beyond sight or sound. Falling to the ground Travis fell silent, head hanging.

After a moment he stood, a scowl on his face, "Where the fuck are we?" Gone was the anger, instead his voice was cold and harsh, "No. Fuck it. I don't care, I just ..." He shook his head, his hands curling into fists. Despite the breeze that ruffled the others' hair Travis' was still, as were his clothes, it was as if the wind simply did not touch him. The other three from the Dakota facility realized now that they had seen the same during the escape and fight, no matter the wind, or his movements, his clothing, hair, everything, seemed preternaturally still, as though none of it could touch him. "Where are we going next?" he asked, his eyes narrowed, and his tone suggesting immanent violence.

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Rebekka came through the sable portal in a rush, barely noticing the others as she fell to her knees, the savannah sun warm on her face as she looked towards the sky, a beatific smile of pure joy gracing her enticing lips. Despite the trying and anxious circumstances, ineffably striking woman couldn't help draw more than a few admiring glances. Freedom... It tastes... exhilarating. She had memories of similar emotions - with their entire context - but it was different when the memories were her own.

Standing back up, Rebekka idly brushed her thin, short dress, angry red scorch marks already paling, as she watched the dusky-hued woman with frank interest, the blood spattering Lamia's legs making her shiver with wanton anticipation. Both women froze when their eyes met, sparking an instant of mutual recognition. Though both appeared to be young, perhaps in their mid twenties, at most, behind brown eyes and green, lay too many years of experience for any one lifetime. Rebekka felt the tips of her breasts stiffen with desire - it had been some time since she had been with a woman, more than a week.

But if she found the woman intriguing, the furious, slender man nearly made Rebekka salivate. The rage and imminent violence emanating from him was a heady aphrodisiac. Despite having just 'fed' an hour before being freed, danger always heightened Rebekka's appetites, though to be fair, she was rarely, if ever satisfied.

Five years without?! Poor boy! Rebekka thought, horrified. Going five days without was literally torturous for her. She knew she was the exception, not the rule, but still... She sashayed towards Travis, noting the unconscious and smoking form lying prone on the ground. She nodded at Noctis' and pointed at the man with gold hair. "I think this one can use your help."

Her rich, accented and velvety tones were a perfect match for her leggy, blond beauty. Passing by Lamia, Rebekka, smirked at David, and cocked a hip, emphasizing the contours of a posterior Michelangelo would weep to render in marble. "My chip is embedded by the base of my spine. Who's wanting to dig it out? I'm fine waiting while you decide."

Rebekka flashed Travis an easy smile that didn't promise anything, yet still suggested, and sat down next to him, not too close to invade his personal space, but close enough to touch, if he desired to do so... or she did. She could read a lot in his body language. He was young, with an almost boyish slimness, though he had clearly reached his majority, and was attractive with it.

"Relax, there's no rush." A mild, teasing glint appeared in her fascinating turquoise eyes. The woman looked young, and sounded young, and yet, there was something... "And from what I gather, you don't have any pressing engagements at the moment. You're free now, at least for this moment. Take a moment of time and revel in it, before we have to run again. I'm Rebekka, and I never knew I wanted out of the zoo until it was offered to me."

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"Well, that could have gone better." She said as she got her bearings again once they came though the portal.. "But at least we did manage to get away.. " She paused a moment to look around and then a hint of wonder crept into her voice. "We're free.. " She shivered a moment, and would have savored the moment a bit longer until the she felt the emotions of those around them, shock, anger, confusion, all of them tasted different to her, well taste wasn't the best term, but others didn't have the senses she did, taste was the way she had managed to tell herself about it.

With Rebekka reaching out to the rather angry individual, Sonora felt drawn to the confused young girl, the innocence and confusion drew her to the girl almost like a moth to a flame. "Our... 'controller's often put tracking chips in us to deal with excapes like this.. " She held up her hand a moment with the markings on it. "I assume you folks have plans to help us slice the codes here?"

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“Matt.” The one word from David had the young man breaking into motion, clapping dirt off his jeans. The mutant called Sol looked down at Lamia, smiling and meeting her eyes. "Matt can get that one out of you; he's been shown by Jack how to get these things out." David glanced at Matt, who was already taking Mary by the arm. "Do Lamia next, Matt."

“Let’s get some order, non-combatants first.” Matt caught Mary by the arm and led her to the table with the case. Inside was some kind of scanner and an array of cutting materials. Matt picked up the scanner and instructed, “Hold out your arms and stand with your legs slightly spread. I’m Matt, by the way. You’re Mary, right?”

“I… I don’t think that I have one,” Mary stammered even as she assumed the requested position.

Matt nodded, smiling in a way that instilled confidence in her. “Better to check an’ be wrong than be right an’ led ‘em back to Home.”

“Where’s home?” Mary asked.

Matt shook his head as he stepped behind her and ran the scanner over her shoulders. “Once I’m sure we got all th’ bugs, I’ll tell you.” He was running over her right hip when it beeped. Matt moved the scanner around until he got a steady beep. “ ‘Fraid I’ve got one here, Mary. Please drop yer shorts. I need to cut it out. Here, lay on your left on the table.” Quickly and as gently as possible, he got her on the table and pulled out a scalpel. “Sorry, this is proly gonna hurt.”

Meanwhile, David moved to the child's side and knelt next to her, asking, “Any word from our third party?”

Ty-Ty shook her head, her dark eyes wide. “She’ll be all right,” the child promised.

David smiled and rested his hand on her head. “Thanks,” he murmured before turning to the rescued mutants. “Jeremy, would you please tend to our golden-haired friend? Travis, they’ll pay for the lost time, for all their sins. Sonora, we’ll help you slice your code anyway you want.” He grinned at the words; it was clear that he loved saying that. Addressing them all, he said, “We have extra clothing, food, water. What do you need?”

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Jeremy nodded and knelt down by the gold-haired man's body, scowling with a flash of anger at the battered and scorched body of Gold on the ground. DeDe bastards. He stretched out interlaced fingers and then briefly pushed the palms down on Gold, letting coagulants, pain relievers and antibiotics leak from his hands and then push through the pores and circulate throughout his patient's body.

Rocking back on his heels, Jeremy stood up from the ground to let the cocktails do their work. A smile flickered back to the freed group, and he answered David's question. "Rebekka, I think." That was spoken in naughty tones, but humorous enough to limit the extent to the flirtatious gibe. "But right now... you're the ones I've heard about? The group that escaped, and looking to exact some good old vengeance?"

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Travis gave Rebekka a cursory glance, his anger making him oblivious to the barely contained lust. "Travis," he replied, as talk of tracking chips distracted him further. "Chips? Under the skin? I doubt it," he scoffed. Still, he seemed nervous about the idea, running his hands over his arms, chest, neck, looking for unwanted guests.

“Jeremy, would you please tend to our golden-haired friend? Travis, they’ll pay for the lost time, for all their sins. Sonora, we’ll help you slice your code anyway you want.” He grinned at the words; it was clear that he loved saying that. Addressing them all, he said, “We have extra clothing, food, water. What do you need?”

"I need to kill some motherfucking blips, I have five years of catching up to do." It sounded ludicrous, or even boastful in some way, but none there doubted the sincerity of the statement, none doubted that the young man was out for blood. Gold, Mary, and Lamia had seen his bloodlust, they knew it was more than just a desire to strike back; they had seen that for Travis is was actually fun. Sitting beside him on the ground Rebekka couldn't help but notice that Travis was about as stable as a house of cards.

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The moment the knife appeared, Mary's eyes widened and she squirmed her hip away as best she could.

"Wait! Wait a second. If...if there's really something there that shouldn't be, I can get rid of it. It'll be like it was never there at all. You don't have to use that!"

Before Matt could try to stop her, she pinched the little hard spot under her skin to force it up and away from the rest of her...she needed to know where it was. Exactly where it was. Knowledge of the thing seeped into her. Long polymerase strands of carbon woven into a protective shell around a tiny thing of copper and aluminum and lithium. She had no idea what it did, or why it was there. Or when it had been put there. She'd been put unconscious many times as the doctors worked on her, trying to cure her.

Or...had they been?

Then, the little pocket of skin around it collapsed as the thing within vanished. She let go, allowing the now-reddened bit of her hip to fall back into place, and looked at Matt questioningly.

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Matt blinked and ran the sensor of her his again; no blips. He ran another sweep over her, just to be sure; then smiled and waved her away from the table. Lamia stepped up next and he hesitated for a moment. "You ready?"

She nodded and managed to not to flinch as he cut just deep and long enough into her skin to slip out the chip. The blood was already clotting by the time she held out her hand for the tiny electronic leash; Matt dropped it into her palm and she crushed it to a fine dust with a look of fierce satisfaction. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Matt," her tone was sincere and the exact opposite of Rebekka's inhumanly sexualized teasing.

She stepped away to make room for the others. "Clothes would be appreciated, though a bath first or I'll just ruin anything other than a shirt." She glanced between Sonora and David and tilted her head curiously. "Slice a code? Did you mean destroying the tracking chip?"

David shook his head and pointed to the barcode tattoo running down the back of Lamia's left wrist; she glanced down at it. "Ah." She nodded in understanding, but shook her head, "For me, that will be gone in...a few weeks at the most. It was constantly reapplied."

She stepped over to Travis, speaking softly but intently. "First, we get free. Then we become strong. Then we do whatever we please. It will please me to end everyone that has harmed me and mine." She put a hand on his arm and motioned him over to Matt. "But first, freedom." She squeezed him arm, being careful not to exert the strength she'd gained over her last few decades of captivity and feeling the odd push back from him that had nothing to do with sinew and bone. "Then strength."

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The pain was a lot more tolerable when he woke up the second time. He felt light-headed and a little dizzy, but he could handle that. It beat a mind full of burnination and a body full of muscle cramps. The muscles down the right side of his body felt tense and stiff, as if someone beat them rigorously with a club.

He took in a deep breath and smelled fresh air, mixed with the not pleasant scent of animal dung. Wait. Hang on. That doesn’t make any sense.

Gold raised his head with a long, low, “oh, fuck my life.”

He blinked his golden, glimmering eyes against the sun up above and looked around at the gathered mutants and the many animals watching them. There were new people in the group. His eyes were sharp, processing every detail in front of him in split seconds. He never missed a detail. Hence he noticed the stiff nipples on Rebekka and the lustful looks she was giving Travis. Huh. A mutant whore. I didn’t know we had those.

Travis was angry again, though his body language was not as aggressive as it was in the fight. Lamia seemed to be calming him down, or getting him to not destroy things at least. That might well be the closest thing to calm that guy could ever get to.

The only thing which mattered was that nobody seemed aggressive toward him, though. They made it away.

I’m free.

Gold rolled back onto his shoulders and kipped up to his feet, keeping his legs straight. Hurt though he was he performed the move without any apparent effort. Back when he was a knee-high mutant moves like that delighted him. Over the years they became normal.

He ran a hand through his shimmering gold hair and sniffed it. It didn’t smell burned, but it did need a wash. He tossed it back over his shoulder and looked around him at the environment, seeking threats and targets. There were plenty of those, in potential.

After a moment or two he turned back to the group.

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"Clothes," Marilyn said eagerly, immediately seeing a way she could help. "I can do that!"

And in the middle of the hot, muggy savannah there was suddenly a white wooden wardrobe next to Lamia; rather plain in styling; completely incongruous in its environment.

"I don't know what KIND of clothes you want so I just used the ones I used to have, but after you pick something out I can try to make it a different size. Oh, and water!"

Near the wardrobe was a plastic bucket with a ladle, next to a set of plain, clear plastic cups. It was full of water. On the other side of the wardrobe was a porcelain bathtub sitting serently on the grass. Also full of water.

Mary got down off the table and looked around hopefully. They'd see she could help, right? They wouldn't do anything to her...

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David nodded at Jer. “Yes, I’m the ones humans called Sol. I’m not looking for vengeance. I’m looking for liberation.” The somber mood fell away and he grinned. “Vengeance is just a nice benefit.”

When Lamia led Travis over to Matt, the young man shook his head. “Sorona and Rebekka first, then the combatants. If we need to bug out, anyone who isn’t chipped gets to go Home and everyone else goes to a beta site. Those that can survive combat better are last.” He seemed to steel himself, his gray eyes hard. “C’mere, Rebekka. Let’s get you unchipped.” The beauty smirked as she sauntered over and flipped up her dress as she draped herself over the table. Matt seemed unimpressed as he bent over her and began to carefully cut.

As Rebekka unleashed a heady moan of mingled pain and pleasure, David looked at the girl. “Ty, I’ll help Jack. You go get clothing for everyone who needs it.”

“Okay.” The girl grinned shyly at David, evidencing hints of a girlish crush. She slipped over to Lamia and quietly asked, “Do you want som’thin’ to wear? That girl made stuff for you.” Ty-ty pointed at Mary and her created objects.

“Thank you, Mary.” David smiled as he moved to stand next to Jack, picking up the phone that Ty-ty had been monitoring. “Come on, babe,” he whispered, staring at the phone. As it remained silent, he looked up at Gold. “How do you feel?”

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Travis looked down at the hand on his arm and shrugged her off roughly. "Don't touch me," he said; it was not a snarl, but the heat and anger in his voice remained. He looked at her as though for the first time, seeing her nakedness, and his expression changed, eyes narrowing, he looked predatory. "I'm not interested," he said quietly, that edge still in his voice, apparently unaware that she had taken Rabekka's place by his side. He looked away as the other woman all but orgasmed under the touch of the scalpel and shook his head, confused. He wanted violence; he wanted to vent his anger on those who had imprisoned him, but slowly he realized that he already had.

Travis reached up to his hair and took away a hand streaked red with blood, he realized that the clothing he wore now was only slightly less gory than a slaughterhouse apron. Travis stopped to think about the past ten minutes, to try and recall it all. It came slowly; his freedom, the rescue of the golden man, the soldiers dying by his will alone, stealing these clothes, the armored troopers, and the woman who had tried to hurt him with force, hurt him and the others. He shook his head, he had had his vengeance, for now at least.

"I'm sorry," he said to Lamia. He plucked at his blood stained clothing, looking almost frail as he did so; for all his psychic strength and physical resilience he still was an underfed and rail thin young man. Travis took a handful of steps toward Mary, stopped when he saw the repressed fear in her eyes. "Can you?" he asked, "Can you make duplicates of these, but without the blood?"

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Mary swallowed, but her throat was dry. She remembered him flying up, unleashing some kind of energy onto the armored dome she'd created over the soldiers. Energy that had battered and crushed the tempered metal, but hadn't quite punched through to kill the man inside.

The domes! She'd forgotten about those! Fortunately, because she'd made them, she could destroy them much more easily than other things. A moment of concentration was all it took.

"Y...yes," she stammered. "Just hold still a second..." Mary focused on his clothes, and saw the fibers, the stretched polymers and cellulose, similar to the lab coats the scientists wore in composition, but with stains of a material she decided must be a dye for color.

And then Travis' clothes were on the ground in front of him, neatly laid out and blood-free.

Having thrown the tiger some meat, she felt a little better, and gave herself leave to look around. The landscape was gorgeous! Rich earth, vibrant plants under a sapphire sky...clouds scudding over mountains on the horizon. She felt like she'd fallen into a book! She was giddy, dizzy...even being afraid of the others didn't drown it out. Despite all the horror, all the pain and death...part of her was still glad that she'd come along with them...and ashamed at being that way. What did it say about her?

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Travis quirked the tiniest of smiles, "Nice. Thanks." He quickly stripped and used some of the water to wash the blood from his body. Without a shirt or pants he looked even less healthy. He was exceedingly thin, his ribs showing a little, and his skin was pale. Despite that fact he was clearly not a bad looking young man, even if the sullen anger that seemed to perpetually mar his face did nothing for his looks. Maybe with a little nutrition, some sunlight, and a reason to smile he might even be attractive.

He dressed again shrugging into clothing that was generally a little too large for his lanky frame before stuffing his feet into shoes that seemed a little small. He wore the pants shoved low on his hips to get the legs to not look overly short, but the too big tee-shirt more than covered the gap, even as it gave the impression of a child wearing his father's clothing. He looked a little silly but said nothing, and seemed to almost not notice the adjustments he made to make it work, anybody who had been in a similar situation knew that he was lived a great deal of time wearing whatever clothing he had been able to get to fit; "his size" was a luxury that fugitives seldom had.

Clean now, and dressed again, he waited for his turn to find out if there was a tracker on his body and where.

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Jeremy grinned back at Sol after his words. Vengeance was a calling siren, but in the end, it was liberation that mattered too. It thus did bring a little more of a smile to see the blond man calm down. The government and DeDes deserved everything they got for the pain they'd caused mutants, but the previous bloodthirsty rage still was unnerving to see.

With a hint of dryness in his throat compelling him to biological wants, he scooped up a plastic cup, filling it with water. The crisp, clean cold liquid was like manna going down his throat. Of course, the moan from Rebekka nearly made him cough. She was damn attractive, and Jeremy, no matter how cold calculatedly he had played the sex card in Il Impianto, had his genuine guy lusts.

But certainly this was far not the time or place to consider such things or act on them, no matter how many good-lookers were here. Far from it, really. To avoid the thoughts, he inspected his clothing. Luckily, they were dirtied and disheveled, but nothing was really damaged in material, short sleeves and glancing hits meant most of the outfit was together where it mattered, and that was good enough right now for him.

He too waited for his turn.

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With the tracking chip removed, a trickle of blood flowing down and between the delectable curves of her behind, Rebekka raised herself off the table with a sigh and languid grace. Limping slightly, turned around with a smile on her lips, placing a hand on Matt's chest, somewhat nonplussed by his remote expression - she didn't believe he was gay; perhaps he had lost a significant other recently. She completely ignored the bloody tracking device in his hand - she had the memories of implanting inside her herself, courtesy of a besotted surgeon.

"Thank-you, Matt," Rebekka said in her dulcet, accented voice. Even when she was satisfied and relaxed, she couldn't help radiate an instinctual sensuality and her mere presence insisted on raising desire, so despite Matt's tight lips, she could feel the heavy beating of his heart beneath her hand. She rose up on her toes and whispered in his ear, to offer all she had. "When we arrive at a place of safety, come seek me out so I can properly thank you."

She settled back down on her heels, giving Matt a direct look, who realized beyond her wanton and perverted desires, Rebekka's eyes held a frightening amount of life experiences. She smiled wryly, seeming both young and ancient, and patted his chest. "I am a good listener, too."

"Next," Matt said roughly, and Rebekka twirled away, swaying back towards Travis and Mary.

Passing by, Jeremy offered the woman his gifts to heal the wound made from digging out the tracking. Flashing him an easy, heavy-lidded smile - itself enough to nearly count as a sexual experience - she waved off the offer. The fading pain radiating from the base of her spine was hardly unpleasant. "Thank you, Noctis, but I will recover swiftly enough. Save it for those who need it more."

She gave Travis an appreciative once-over, then another, one for him - though Travis had the distinct impression it wasn't purely for his appearance - and one for his clothing, as she swayed towards the tub of water. "I will be seeing you, later."

She slipped her dress up once more, then sat on the edge of the tub, balancing easily as she wiped clear the drying blood. That done, she frowned at her worn and sullied dress, then sashayed over the conspicuous wardrobe setting out on the savannah. She watched the young woman gaze wondering at the vivid colours of the open ground and sky for a moment, then tapped the wardrobe.

"Mary, is it?" she asked softly, then raised her voice a bit more when Mary didn't seem to hear. "Mary, do you mind if I replace my dress with one that you have so kindly crafted? Very handy, that."

"Oh? Oh! No, not at all," Mary assured the stunning woman who looked she had stepped out of a book every bit as much as the landscape. "There is enough for everyone."

Rebekka smiled again and nodded, pulling off her dress in one practiced motion. Taking her time. no more bothered with nudity than Lamia was, she dug through the wardrobe and pulled out one of the pristine white, cotton dresses. She slipped one of them on, she subtly shifted her height and proportions slightly for a better fit, her full figure filling out the loose design.

"Very nice, Mary. Thank-you. Say, can you do silk?" she pondered with interest.

"Silk? What is that?"

"Oh, sweetie, you poor girl." Rebekka frowned in sympathy, shaking her head and shuddering slightly upon seeing the sheer innocence and enforced ignorance in the girl's expression. For someone who stole the memories of anyone she slept with, it was a horrible crime than had been inflicted on Mary. "I see you will need one hell of an education to go along with this taste of freedom." She grinned, an honest and encouraging one, this time without the innate sexiness, well not entirely, but it was certainly toned down some. "Fortunately, I believe I will have the time and opportunity to help you with that." She laughed, a rich and sweet sound. "I think a shopping trip and a girls' night out will definitely be in order."

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It was lucky that Jeremy didn't pop a boner right away at that smile. Very close at that. So he turned his gaze soon to something that wouldn't set off dirty thoughts right now. Mary was cute, but as backed up by her ignorance of silk, clearly innocent and sheltered- unnaturally so, he suspected- which turned him off safely. Against his better judgment, since Rebekka was still along with her, he slipped over with a sympathetic look to the young girl. "It's tough for you, isn't it? Being cooped up for so long, and then exposed to the world at large without much control over the situation, I couldn't handle that well."

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Mary shot a glance over at David and Travis, then visibly gathered her courage to reply.

"I just didn't know how violent it would be," she says quietly, her deep brown eyes haunted. "I wanted to see the world...everything I've ever read about...but I don't know if it's worth it. So many people died because he came to get me."

She looks away, troubled. "But...I'm also glad to be out...even though it was so awful getting out. Even though it meant people had to die. I don't know what to think about that. I always thought...well no, I never imagined anything would lead to something like this...but I thought I was better than that anyway. "

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Jeremy sighed as he tried to figure out how to explain things. A mind was a terrible thing to waste, and the USA had done quite nasty things to Mary, even if she didn't realize it yet. "First off, violence is a lot more commonplace in the world than your captors wanted you to believe. Pick up a real newspaper, see an action movie- the world can be a very complex, brutal and downright nasty place at times. Humanity is easily capable of great death and destruction on its own."

Now the massive elephant in the plains, figuratively, even though there seemed to be one out there. "More importantly. I don't know if they ever really told you this, but, you... me... everyone here... we're mutants. We've got powers, and thus, whether it be fear, prejudice against the other or just plain wanting to use us for their own purposes, the governments of the world don't see us as human. I don't really either, but to them, that means they can do whatever they want with us, we're nothing, not obligated anything. For a century, probably longer, mutants have been killed, enslaved, abused horribly. Anything those two did is dwarfed in comparison. It's not even public knowledge by any means. The governments wipe minds of their own citizens, hide it as best they can... they know it's wrong anyway. Ultimately, this has to stop. So, there's going to be more violence I'm afraid, but at least you can put it in perspective. To wit, our foes are about to reap what they've sowed."

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Lamia had followed suit with Rebekka, using the water and one of the white (now red and brown) towels that had been draped over the side of the porcelain to quickly wipe herself clean. After Rebekka pulled out the white sun-dress and adjusted herself to fit it snugly, Lamia quickly perused the available selection of clothes. Most of it was close enough to her size that she wasn't concerned with asking for alterations; a deep blue blouse loose everywhere except across the chest, jeans that she belted and rolled up the extra inches of material at the bottom, and a pair of lace-up sandals tied tightly enough to hold them in place completed her makeshift outfit. She braided her hair with an odd weave that seemed to hold itself in place without a tie once she was done with the clothes. She looked a bit like a teenager borrowing an older sister's clothes, if the clothes were all that one looked at.

"Thank you," she said to Mary and she made the final adjustments to her hair. She looked the girl over with a frank and almost motherly appraisal. "People died because this is a war. They would have died even had you stayed in your cage because others would not have. The soldiers died because they chose to be soldiers. The others died because they served their masters and their masters have enemies. This is a story as old as the world. It has happened before and it will happen again. You can choose to hate this and do your best to be not a part of it, but it is happening. You have been a captive, a slave kept to be studied and used by those that owned you. You could have stayed. You could have fought beside those that had been your masters when you saw the way of the battle." She tilted her head as she watched the child, her tone even and unyielding. "You did not. Freedom meant more to you. Freedom to see the world you have read about. Remember that. It is also a truth that cannot be undone. Soldiers died so that you could have your freedom. Honor your enemies when they fight with courage and cunning, but remember that they are your enemies. They would have killed you to prevent your freedom had they had the power to overcome us before our escape."

She glanced over to where Matt was working through the other rescued mutants, and then around the small circle of rescuers and rescuees. "I am going to walk," she stated. "Not far, but I have not touched the earth or heard the wind or felt the sun in more years than I care to count at the moment. This place, it feels....familiar, a balm to the wounds inflicted by the demons of my life. I will return when called for and I do not mind if others would walk with me." Fitting action to words, she began sedately walking away from the center of the impromptu camp, her pace measured and unhurried.

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Gold observed the others for a time, leaving David’s question unanswered. He listened, he watched, trying to make sense and get a feel for his newfound allies, if allies they were, and to work out what was going on. He remained dark on the last point.

Finally he said, “My bacon’s a bit sizzled but my egg’s not cracked,” he said, rubbing his side. “My muscles are cramped all down my right side. I’ll loosen up in a while, I’m sure. Whatever he dosed me up on is keeping the pain down for now. So… uh… what’s this about chips and what the hell is going on in general? If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you bust us out? You just a good Samaritan? I’m sure you can forgive a little caution on my part.” He looked around again. “Just ‘cause I can’t see the bars, don’t mean I’m not in a cage.”

It might not have been the most polite question, but it was worth asking and it seemed like no one else was going to ask it.

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Travis' eyes narrowed dangerously and focused on Gold, "Because he's a great man who fights for the freedom of all of mutant kind, that's why." He took a step toward the other man, pointing at him, "You should show a little respect, too. Without him you'd still be locked in a plastic box." Travis' scowl was back, but thus far it lacked the angry heat it had immediately after the escape.

With a shake of his head he stalked over to Matt at the table, "Unless you have a laser scalpel in there anything they managed to get into me isn't coming out unless I tear it out." He shrugged, "Wave your beeper, I doubt they even managed to cut into me." Matt just looked at Travis and picked up the scanner. Travis frowned when it started to beep. "My ass? Really?! Mutherfuckers." Travis' scowl only deepened as he dropped his pants and located the hard lump beneath the skin of his rear. "Fuckers ..." he mumbled as he contorted himself around. With a snarling yell the lump extruded from his ass and ripped free a hunk of flesh and metal. "OWW! SONUVABITCH!"

He grabbed a shirt from the wardrobe and pressed it to his ass, "Hey, little guy, what's your name? I need some of that mojo." He hobbled toward Jeremy, grimacing with every step.

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Mary listens to the other women, still wide-eyed and unable to meet their gazes directly. Even so, she didn't immediately just give them the answer they wanted.

"David said something like that too," she said softly, "But I still don't know what to think about it. Everything you're talking about...it's like it happened on another planet. I've never seen or heard of anything like that before, ever. The people there...they've always been there for me. When I was just a kid, they were the ones who fed me and taught me...and even though it wasn't always the same people, I trusted them as a whole. I always knew when I saw one of those long white coats that things would be okay."

She looks away. "And now you're asking me to just...erase all that and hate them. I can't. Even if some of the things they taught me weren't true, and even if they kept things from me...they weren't cruel, and they weren't mean and...some were really nice. I do like being outside and out here...I just didn't want anyone to get hurt."

In an even lower voice, Mary added, "I'm sorry that all those things happened to you though. I wish your doctors had been more like mine."

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Jeremy sighed and turned around. "Jeremy. And a little more manners couldn't hurt." Walking over to the hobbling Travis, he pressed two fingers into Travis' hip, and let the chemical cocktails permeate through the pores, into the system, and remove Travis' second asshole painlessly. "There you go."

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"Manners?" Travis asked, not entirely sure what the other meant. "Uhh, thanks?" he added as the pain subsided some. He dimly remembered his mother telling him to say "please" and thank you", but that was over a decade and a half ago, and those memories stung as much a ripping a hunk of flesh from his ass. He couldn't really see the progress but he dabbed at the wound with fresh parts of the once white cotton shirt until it came back clean and the hauled his pants back up.

"You don't have to learn to hate the blips all at once kiddo," Travis said, turning to Mary, "Just give it some time and they'll make you hate them in little doses until nothing is left but the hate. Trust me, I know." He tossed the bloody shirt onto the growing pile of discarded clothing, "I need some air." He stepped onto the disc that he'd pulled through the gateway and a circular section a yard across tore itself free rising slightly. Without a word he skimmed across the ground away from the group.

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"That's better." Jeremy commented in exchange to Travis' thank-you. He shrugged and rolled his shoulders as he strode over to Matt for his turn. "I'm up." Matt's scanning revealed a chip in the same location of Rebekka's, and Jeremy had no issues with the cutting out, despite a hiss at the pain. When the dangerous item was extracted, Jeremy let his shirt go back down and let his body do the patching up. "So, looks like we're making progress."

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Lamia had waited long enough to hear Mary's response before setting off. She was still for a moment, then answered in an equally quiet tone. "We had the same captors. The same doctors. Simply different functions for them. You were...I do not know. A pet or someone to be studied for their powers, perhaps. I was a broodmare and slave for sex for them." Her expression was impassive, "The same people. Remember that. Kindness and lies and ignorance for you, at least while you are a child. Rape and the theft of the children they used me to create, of my children, for me."

She leaned in to give her last words weight, "The same humans."

And then she was gone, not wishing to continue the argument or think on the evils that had gone before. There had been a time before that, when she had been free before and naive about her own invulnerability and her place in the order of the universe. The girl would learn. Or die. Or go back to being a slave, willingly or not. Time and her own decisions would tell that tale.

As she walked, automatically counting out her paces in her mind and letting out a pent up sigh of relief as she passed the thirty that had been the longest reach from one side of her room to the other; she let herself parallel the path that the blonde man - once again riding in the sky on a disc of ground, though smaller this time. She wasn't sure if he would want the company, silent or not, but she wasn't quite ready to wander completely alone just yet. She nodded up to him with a look of respect and offered companionship.

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“Sorona.” Matt waved to the silent illusionist, signaling that it was her turn to go under the knife. She silently took her place next to him and submitted to the scan. When it was done, Matt had found the chip in her lower back, same place as Jeremy and Rebekka’s had been. “Popular place for the overseas DEHA,” he noted idly as he cleaned the area and began to work. The girl hissed and bit her lip as he worked, but held herself still.

Matt had just applied a bandage over the wound when the phone rang again. David sighed in relief, even as the silent Tyrone started to concentrate. “Our third group,” David explained to the watching mutants. “This is the last group, so once they’re out and de-chipped, we’re going home.” He glanced at Gold. “Get your chip out. We’re about to do this three more times, and then we need to move.”

Matt nodded to Gold encouragingly.

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Travis acknowledged Lamia with a barely perceptible nod. Behind them David said that the third group was coming soon. Travis frowned and looked back as the fourth woman was de-chipped. "Sorry about your kids," he said quietly, "They've taken so much from all of us, even her, though she doesn't yet know it." He sighed, "Five years," he said, "and more ..." He stopped, looking out over the waving grass, lost in thought and painful memories. "The way you talk ... how long did they have you in there?"

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"The Americans?" Lamia ran a hand over the tall grass. "The compound in Brandenburg," she spoke the name with a perfect German accent, "was taken by American soldiers on....April twenty-sixth in the year of nineteen forty-five of the calendar of the followers of the fish. From then to today would be...sixty-six years, ten months, and nine days."

She plucked one of the grasses, running her fingers through fine fringe at the top. "Before that, it was five years and eight days under the rule of some Italian king. And before that...." She sighed and the grass stalk snapped in her hand. "Before that was a very long time in small, dank, foul cells with pious men of a dead god. Many, many years that I do not care to count anymore." She tossed the dying plant away from her. "At least with them there were not so many children to be taken or killed. They often forgot to feed me or were ordered not to, so even when they broke their vows with a woman that could not protest and would never be heard, I was too weak to bear a child."

She looked up at him, curiosity pushing through the press of entrenched emotions in her expression. "They took you five years ago? Were you free before then? I have heard nearly nothing of the world since being taken from Brandenburg. I know that the Americans and their allies won the war against the Großdeutsches Reich and their allies, but that is the last knowledge I have beyond the small, brightly lit, and meticulously sterile rooms the Americans kept me in."

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"For ten years I was." He dropped to a sitting position on the disk, a move that would most certainly have been painful for most men. "Before that they had me for six years, and before that ..." he swallowed hard, a sudden knot in throat. "I don't want to talk about it." He turned away, squeezing his eyes shut, squeezing the tears out into the dry African air. "I can only guess why they freed me. I'm dangerous. I don't think I was like that before, when I was little I mean, but I am now. I am an instrument of violence. That's what they called me before they put me in that tube; a weapon." He opened his eyes, blinking at the brightness, "They fear me. Us. And they should. I'll fuckin kill them all."

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"A weapon cannot choose the foe they are aimed at." Lamia stepped up to the disk, setting her hands on the edge and lifting her chin with returning pride. "You have. This is war and your gifts are weapons; your enemies should fear you."

She smiled then, beautiful and sincere. "So, let us be friends with common enemies." She held out her arms out to him, palms up in the old style of peaceful greeting for him to take if he agreed with her offer. "And when the time for vengeance and war has passed, then we can be friends with victory in common."

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"Umm," Travis wasn't aware of what her gesture meant to her. To him it looked like she wanted a hug, or maybe to be picked up like a child. Both seemed silly, and rather unlikely. "What are you doing?" he finally asked, after staring started to feel awkward.

"It is a gesture of greeting," she put her arms down, "Perhaps it has fallen out of custom."

"Probably." Travis shrugged, "I thought you wanted a hug. Seemed a little forward, though maybe not for that other chick." He jerked a thumb back toward the group, Rebekka in specific. He was silent for a moment, "I think it would be nice." She raised an eyebrow at him, a surprised look on her face. "To be friends I mean! It's been ... a long time since I had one, and I don't know what happened to her."

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Lamia nodded and gently took his hands, clasping them over her forearms while her own hands did the same beneath his arms. She squeezed her hands, feeling that same subtle pressure form around him, and chuckled at his bemused expression. "There, friends. We will share enemies, battle, and victory together." She squeezed one last time and let him go.

"And we will search for this old friend of yours. Was she taken when you were?" The question was careful phrased, as the answer would tell her many important things about this lost woman of her new ally and friend. She would do as she'd promised, help him find his friend, but it would be better were she a mutant as well; then they could more easily enlist the aid of the others and possibly gain another powerful ally in the process.

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"Yeah. They got us at the same time. They cheated." Travis' expression was thick with sullen rage, "They had traitors with 'em, a leech. and a shifter. The leech stole my telekinesis, and I'm not exactly a prime physical specimen. The shifter..." He looked at Lamia, "Have you ever seen what one of them can do? One of them trained for combat? It's was brutal. I don't know if May ever stood a chance. I don't know what happened to her after that. They hit me with K and ..." he shrugged, " ... that was that.

"Ten years I was free. I was one of the most dangerous Prometheans out there. It took less than five minutes for them to take that away." Travis levitated a rock from the ground to waist high, his hand closed into a white-knuckled fist and the gunshot like sounds of fracturing rock split the air of the savanna. "If I ever see that leech again I'll pop his head off, even if I have to use my bare hands."

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