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Inferno last won the day on March 14 2019

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  1. "If by 'anything' you're including your phone number on that list, then yeah... phone number, I want the phone number." He smiled and looked about once more to collect himself. His body had regenerated all the skin around his muscles but he was still a bit thin and sallow. He looked a man on the brink of malnourished, yet he wasn't hungry, just weary, like a man who'd ran a marathon and then decided to run another one. He winced as he tried to push himself up in the bed, "Ow, maybe a pudding cup?" "Careful there, Romeo," his attendant smiled, mildly amused by his clumsy attempt at getting a date. "You, uh, said there were tests," Mikey inquired as he turned his head left and right to look at how sunken his face had become. "What happened?" She leaned in and turned his head towards her and looked into his eyes. "Well," she tested his visual acuity with a little light. "Near as we can tell, you... burned to hot, Michael. Your powers hit an apex. The temperature you rose to, well, we don't proper containment for an individual that hot, that's as plain as I can say it. The strain on your node, however, loosened the protection it provides you from your own gifts. Basically, Michael, you started burning yourself as fuel. Your body fat went first, then it began working it's way back, starting at your epidermis and had you not been put out we don't know where, or if it would have stopped." "What caused it?" He asked, looking visibly distressed. These powers were supposed to be awesome, not kill him. She placed the small light away, clipping it near her belt do-hicky. "Near as we can tell, you lost control when you were under a sudden and abrupt bout of shock. Namely, seeing aliens for the first time." His head dropped back heavily into the comfortable pillow. "Oh, yeah. Huh. I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" "No, Michael. No one hurt, and your body is recovering quickly. Everything will be fine, just give it a little more time." "Are you an alien? Because you're hot for an alien." He grinned like a five year old.
  2. Mike was already hovering when the Watchtower beamed him up. When he arrived he was still hovering. His body alight with flames and glowing embers for eyes the Key looked about, incredibly freaked out. Then the alien happened. "What the fu-!" He soared backwards a few feet, hands raised in front like one might aim cannons (and for Keys, that was a possibility) but then he lurched. Something threw him off balance and he convulsed slightly with an expression the told Jeane (who was already on the defensive) he'd never experienced what was happening to him before. From inside his body it appeared as if all of his organs had caught fire and they were making his skin turn radiant shades of yellow, orange and red. Mike wasn't just on fire, he was becoming fire. Jean could see his heart explode into a molten core, body fat began to burn at an alarming rate as he grew gaunt and sallow. "Warning. Fire hazard detected." The automated systems lowered from the ceiling, turned on Mike, and doused him with the alien equivalent of AFFF foam. His flames hissed and Mike fell to the floor, a smoldering corpse-like creature of a man. His skin was gone revealing only the slick cords of muscle beneath it. His lips were gone, his eye lids left his solid white eyes exposed. He rasped and choked for a breath. He was alive but with no skin his nerves must have been in overload. Shock consumed him and he crawled towards Jeane, his slick bony hands leaving smears of plasma and pinkish blood on the floor. "J-Jeane..." he rasped like a zombie in the horror movie, his words sounded strange, what with him having no lips and all, until his body quit and his head 'thunked' to the floor in a sloshy smear of oozes. He lay there, still and quiet as his breathing remained. Jeane could see, just barely, that his skin was slowly growing back in very small, very small patches...
  3. Like most people in... well, today's entire world. Jeane seemed to give Mike a half answer while she took out her phone and began reading it. Probably checking her Instagram or Facebook or something. Mikey sighed and he hovered too and fro, seemingly having a little fun as he swayed about in the afternoon breeze. "Oh, c'mon already. If you can play on your phone this can't be too important. C'mon, let's blow all this off and we'll go get some grub? Mmm? I know this city like the back of my hand. Pick anything, the most obscure the better, and I bet I can find a place that makes it. "Speaking of... do you have to open up in order to eat? Or can your robot body just shovel in the food and you eat in your little control room or whatever?" The sad part was everything about his tone implied that it was a serious question. "I don't wanna use the term 'cockpit' because, yeah, that totally implies you built the control room in the v'jay-jay, and be kinda twisted, y'know?" He flew around, spinning in little circles and to soaring into small back flips like an impatient kid waiting for his mom to check out at a grocery. "So, what's yer jam, hmm? Pizza, burgers? They say we got some of the best pizza in the world, except for Chicago, which I'm gonna fly there one day and put that shit to the test. Soon as I get Google Maps, that shit's going down. My phone doesn't have it, it's a cheap little burner, y'know? I thought of maybe trying to just make the trip, but when I looked down, all I recognized was Manhattan. My geology sucks, I'd like end up in China or some shit, I just know it."
  4. "Oh, really?!" He cupped his flaming hands into fists and pressed them to his cheek once again demonstrating that he was immune to his own flames, and spoke like he was young kid. "You'll take me to meet fun people? Oh, goodie." She could see his eyes roll, but his expression told her he just rolled his eyes. "Lady, do talk to everyone like they're six or are people just something new for you?" He looked down at the ground where police were converging on the scene. "So, what makes you think I can't take care of myself, hm? Because so far you've been treating me like I'm helpless, useless and need handouts. I don't. I called you guys because you seem like this is up your alley but you're turning out to be no better than police or feds, you come into my town and start talking down to me like you know it all." "Dude's not gonna come for me, Lady. I wasn't his target. He just happened to be in a building with a perfect vantage of a mugging that was going to take place? He was gunning for those muggers because he was protecting that lady down there. I think I'm good. And if he does come after me, I got big guns too." "He sighed and continued to hover there outside the building. "Alright, look, you got five minutes, then I got shit to do." He didn't have shit to do.
  5. "Keep an eye on me? I don't need a babysitter," Mike said. As Jean disappeared Mike shook his head. With all the teleporting she was doing, it could have been her for all Mike knew. "Well, s'all good Donnie, you got my number, so gimme a call if you need anything else. Cool?" "Mikey, you're a witness to a double homicide-" Officer Donovan tried to point out but Mike cut him off. "And I gave you a statement, bro. Unless I'm a suspect and you're charging me, you can't hold me here... and I got a serious hankerin' for Mrs. Esposito's empanadas." Mike was right, unless he was being charged he couldn't be held and since Glamera seemed to have it all under control, it was empanada time. "Seriously, if they need me to, I'll fly down and make another statement for the detectives, but bro, I totally hooked you up." He motioned to the building he confronted the shooter in. "She sees everything, knows everything, can be anywhere you need her to be. She's got this, Donnie. You're welcome." He smiled a flattering smile like it spoke volumes for all the favors he'd done for the people of New York today. "You got my number, bro'." His body ignited and flames shot from feet and hands and in a moment he was launched like a rocket into the sky soaring towards the building where he hovered just outside the hole in the wall. His eyes were burning orbs of scorching fire as flames consumed his arms and legs. How his clothes were not on fire was one of those science things Sean would have to explain at length later. "So," he hovered, using his hands and positioning his legs to balance the thrust. "Yeah, good to meet you n' all that, but you seem to got this covered. I'mna go get an empanada and a coffee or something. I'm like totes starving all the time. You got my number, right?"
  6. Mikey dropped to the ground as his flames went from a focused thrust to just... being fire. Fire that happened to be all over his fore arms, eyes and feet and despite the very real nature of it, didn't seem to be burning him or his clothes. He looked over to Glamera (giant monster bimbo references were not getting old in his head). "Don't shoot please?" He asked as he looked at her. "You realize that's exactly how you get shot in this town right? Might wanna try approaching from a distance next time, give people time to take you in instead of just popping in like that and scarring the shit out of every one... Christ, this your first time? Cops're jumpy, girl." He had no clue that it was actually Jeane's first field assignment. "Donnie!" Mike walked over as four armed officers all trained their guns on him. He raised his hands and stopped, taking a few steps back. "Woah, guys, chill... it's cool, alright? Donnie, I had nothing to do with this, sorta." Officer Donovan motioned for the others to lower their guns. "Can you understand why we might a little jumpy?" He waved a finger all about the flaming display that was Mikey Jensen. Jean looked at him and folded her arms while saying dryly, "You're on fire and talking to cops with loaded guns. Cops're jumpy Mike. This your first time?" "Oh! Oh, shit, I'm so sorry guys, seriously, I keep forgetting and I don't feel it... like a hat indoors, you know? You forget you're wearing it so you leave it on...," the flames sputtered out as they grew smaller, almost like he was absorbing them back into his body. It seemed an unconscious effort on his part and he showed no real signs of noticing it was happening. "Pretty cool though, right?" "Mikey, two men are dead. Help us out here, why are you two here and what is going on?" Officer Donovan asked. "Okay, so like, obvs, I got powers, right? So I was just walking over there and stuff and then..." Mike explained the entire situation to Officer Donovan. His story, minus a few 'likes' and 'rights' was pretty much on par with what he told Jeane just moments before. From the me men being shot, to him soaring off to where the shooter was perched. He told them the gun was there and how the guy escaped. "And that's when I called the mutant people, because, like, you guys don't really give a shit after the first forty eight, and that dude is prolly in like, Russia or some shit and that's like a couple days away, plus lay overs... but they're from Canada so they're closer." "Mikey, shut up." Officer Donovan just shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He turned to face Jeane. "Ms. Hubert, I believe I heard? Officer Liam Donovan, I see you've found our village idiot." "Hey," Mike shot back. "I'm right here you know." "Canada is nowhere near Russia, Mikey." His long time guardian angel chuckled. "It's not?" "I rest my case," He shook Jeane's over sized hand. "He's a good guy, just hasn't had the opportunities some of us have had." She knew he meant Mikey who was now talking with the other four officer and showing them fire from the palm of his hand while they asked him questions like if it hurt or not. He presented her with his card. "So, anything to add? I'm assuming you guy handle things like this but, what jurisdiction do you have? How do we go about setting up a communication pipeline?"
  7. "Yeah, yeah, I got the whole persuasive thing too. I had people buying things only worth forty bucks buying it for sixty just because I said the right words. Natural salesman, I get it, I was doing it and making cash like crazy, but it didn't feel right. If it's worth forty, then it should be forty, y'know? I wouldn't appreciate people doing that kinda shit to me, it's just wrong." Jeane shook her head, a bit dumbfounded. "And fencing people's stolen property, that didn't occur to you as wrong?" "No, why," he looked at her like she had something on her face. "Should it? Look all I'm sayin' is that these guys don't like me, I'm a career offender. While I appreciate the notion, us going down there and gaggledy-gooking their brains... man, that's messed up. They're good guys. A little fat, but good guys, my pops used to know a lot of them." "Was he a cop too?" "No, alcoholic. Used to beat on moms a lot, so they'd be out visiting every couple of days." Mike shrugged, pacing around. "Don't apologize or nothing. People always wanna lead into 'I'm sorry to hear that', bullshit. She was no angel. Addict, more like. She'd bet hopped up, he'd be wasted, do the math, y'know? My point is, home wasn't an option so here I am and those guys," He motioned out the window to the police below. "I know they're just doing their job, but I'm an easy win for them. No one saw me not do all this which is as good as 'he prolly did it, lock him up'. You seem like a great gal, Angry Dwarf Lady, I got much love of athletic women." He pounded his heart twice and kissed two digits on his hand and raised it high. "I know I did nothing wrong, but making them see that by messing with their heads doesn't seem like a fair trade. What if I mess up their childhood, or make their dicks shrink or something like that? I heard we give off like mad New-trino/Old-trino type radiation or some shit." He shrugged. "Well, Diggs is already bald... guess we can sneak that one by him. I mean still though... you don't go messin' with a dude's dick, y'feel me? In this economy, that's like all us dude's got left." "Sucks being broke, y'know?" He didn't even seem to realize there was a more pressing matter to attend to at the moment. "Hustlin', survivin'. Trying to keep a conscience in all this madness out here it's all C.R.E.A.M. mentality. Then I get these powers, and I can do anything. First thought? I'll go turn over a liquor store. So I'm out there right? I'm about to do it and I think: 'What if this was my store? How would I feel if someone came and jacked up my way of life and took from my family?'. I mean, that's the whole problem... we're people who have nothing out here taking from people who have nothing and... I don't know, Dwarf Lady. All this power and... a fucking liquor store." He looked down from the window and sighed. "I'm supposed to be hard and do what I gotta to survive, but these people getting hurt all day for nothing, it doesn't click right with me. I'm too stupid to be good at anything, dropped out because eating felt more logical than learning plus hiding the bruises pops was laying on me..." He inhaled. "Y'know what? Fuck it, Angry Dwarf, let's do this shit. They arrest me, they arrest me. Three hots and a cot, right? At least there's that. I'll meet you down there, and no messin' with their heads, leave their dicks alone, they're just doing their jobs." He took a few steps back and hurled himself out of the window. Jeane's 'oh shit' reflex kicked in, especially that depressing as hell monologue, but when she got to the window he was hovering upwards, with constricted flames around his hands and feet providing thrust. His once white eyes were now exploding to life with living flame that licked up eyebrows and forehead. "Don't wait up, Shorty." He shot her a wink and fell backward, free falling a few stories before igniting his thrusters again and soaring down to the police.
  8. "Oooooh," Mike sucked his teeth. "Yeah, see, the police and me... we ain't on the greatest of terms. In fact I was running from them when I sorta landed in this. I may have a warrant out for me." "Disorderly conduct, defacing property, evading, interfering with an investigation, suspicion of trafficking stolen stuff, conspiracy to sell said stolen stuff, actually selling said stolen stuff, larceny from an auto, larceny in general to be honest with you." He shrugged and he ticked off the charges on his fingers. "Or two. A warrant or two. Oh, and I slammed my bare ass on Officer Digg's driver side window last month." He laughed then stopped, shaking his head. "He didn't laugh though. Very stoic. I admire his dedication." He smacked his hands together. "So, that said, I was a pleasure, but I can't be here when the 1st Bacon Brigade arrives. You got this though, totally got this. You got the glittery thing and the height advantage, y'know, if they try and dunk on you or something... you'll do fine. These dudes ain't gully like me, I can't be here."
  9. "Chill, lady, jeeez. You're as intense as cocaine enema," although Jeane was incredibly calm, Mike was not the kinda guy who was sued to twenty questions shotgunned at him right out of the gate. It didn't surprise him, generally people in Jeane's position were an intense bunch, field operatives had to be to get the job done. Still, for a New York street kid she may as well had been holding a megaphone and screaming slowly like he was retarded. Considering he hadn't quit staring at her tits yet, there was a strong argument for retardation. "How? Like... that's you? Wow... there's no like... angry dwarf in there running the show?" He made fists and moved them back and forth like he was working levers. If Jeane had ever wondered what a blown mind looked like... well, here it was. "Gerry," Jeane folded her arms and looked at him. "Okay, okay... sorry, but I'm like... 'holy shit' right now, alright?" He walked away, finally prying his eyes away from the part of her that was eye level with him. "So, it's Mike, by the way. I don't give people my name over the phone. It's a messed up world. Rapists and druggies... crazy shit. So... dude was over here," He stood by where he smashed through the window, which took a decent portion of the wall with it. There were blackened scorch marks at the point of impact and a lot of the discarded plastic garbage seemed withered and melted. It smelled like burning. "I was down there," he pointed to the courtyard below. "There were these three dudes down below jacking some lady, right? Then BAM, three shots from up here. Dude begins handing out trepanning discounts all gangsta like. So I sees it, right? And I'm all like, 'not in my town', right? So I flew up here and tackled dude, right? We tumbled and he said some weird shit in German or Korean or he might been from Philly, cuz those clothes was all kinds of weird. So he said something and some kinda... I dunno, opened up and sucked him inside." "Aaaand here we are. Oh, dude's gun is over there," he pointed to where he set the gun. "So... you guys like live in mansion or like a volcano or something?" "Montana." Jeane replied trying to process that barrage of words. "Oh, yeah? Cool. Cool. I'm a Maple Leafs fan, myself but the Canadien's are doing alright." He nodded his head. "Nothing wrong with Canada, it's alright. I've never been. I know lots of Canadian people though, very friendly. Does that zapper thingie like have to pay tolls or anything or do you guys like, have this border agreement or something?"
  10. "Materialize?" Mike muttered at his handset with a look of confusion. Then Broadzilla arrived in a glimmering shimmer of sparkles and molecular bonding. Thankfully it wasn't the strangest thing he'd seen this day or he might have said something stupid, instead he went with. "Jesus lady, what do they feed you?" There didn't seem to anything out of the ordinary with 'Gerry' save for his eyes. There were no visible pupils irises, his eyes were just bleached pure, solid white. Obviously, barring some strange contacts, that marked him as a key, but aside from that he looked like any other guy off the street in a hoodie, jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt that she assumed was probably some local or unknown band considering 'Argyle Snot' wasn't on any of the major labels she'd heard of.
  11. --==[Manhattan, New York]==-- "Okay....," Mikey stepped away from the gun and looked at the vacant hallway where mystery dude just upped and poofed. "Think, Mikey. Think. Is this shit really so strange? I mean... you were just on fire... so, there's that. The hell though?" He walked around looking at... well, he had no idea what he was looking for. Dude was here, now he's not, but he left a gun. The gun. His thumb slid across the screen of his smartphone, his fingers tapping in a few keys for a Google search. He tapped the number Google provided and waited for someone to pick up while he paced around. The police would be there soon, but they never negotiated stairs very well so he figured he had some time. "Uh, yeah," he began as a receptionist answered. "Uh, hi, look uh, some dude was just on a roof top sniping people and then teleported away when I confronted him. You guys have people that handle this sorta thing, or is it like an F.B.I. thing? This is Irregular Solutions, right? The mutant group that helps other mutants? Cuz, seriously lady... I have no idea who to call right now, three people are dead and if this dude it teleporting, there's no way regular police are gonna find him. He left a gun behind, weird kinda tech on it... is there a finders fee?"
  12. "What?" Mikey asked back. "Who what?" Realizing that he was a guy on fire he thought it might be best to diffuse (hehe) the situation a bit. Either way, bro was going to jail, no point in letting the guy accidentally burn himself trying doing something stupid. He looked to his hands. "Oh. This?" He waved them about and the made that wooshing sounds flames make when you wave them around. His accent was gone as he dropped the hood rat mentality in lew of something a bit calmer. "Yeah, it's fire, bro. Totally real, and it will burn you. Me? No. But you? Oh, hell yes. And what the hell, dude? Are you like the dude on Netflix who goes around killing people? Did you lose family to muggers or some shit? I get it, those people suck, but killing? Dude, that just makes you as bad as the people you're trying to stop. Give it some thought when you're in lock up. I hope this experience changes you, man." He took another step and flicked his finger a few times forward to indicate for the man to turn and start walking. "C'mon bro, getcho' stride on."
  13. Mikey was a fast guy, especially dropping from a building, fast, but that speed would not out run a bullet. His senses helped him to slow the world, at least, to the ordinary human that's was the closest approximation. As his brain processed and took in information it often felt like everything else went in to slo-mo while he made his decisions and acted accordingly. His perceptions caught the echo of sound of the next round firing. He knew he couldn't save whomever it was being fired at, he wasn't that good... hell, he'd just gotten these powers a few weeks ago and the most he'd managed to do with them was light can drum fires for the bums in the Kitchen. Hey. It was the little things. He scanned the area and the glimmer of the sniper's scope spurred his body into action. He as certainly no hero, but this was dude was poppin' of slugs in the hood and while he didn't care for hoods in his district, killing them was certainly not the way to handle things (okay, so he was a softy)! He didn't need the wings, they were just for show and kind of fun. Last week it was bat wings, and ealier this week it was insect wings, which looked really cool with veins of multicolored flames wrapping through them. He leapt from the building, thankfully he'd had a good grasp of his ability to fly as gouts of flame exploded from his shoulder blades like a pair of flaming dorsal fins or stabilizers on a plane. From his feet gouted flame like that of a jet engine and from the palms of his hands as well and in a simple motion he soared up into the air looking like an Iron Man without his armor with thrust coming from his back, hands and feet. A trail of heat marked his trajectory as he flew towards the sniper, who decided to cut his losses and turn tail, running back into the building he was firing from. That didn't stop Mikey, he soared right through the window, the room and the door, tackling the man in the hallway of the abandoned tenement building. He hit hard. A bit too hard. He could handle the velocity, but man, that impact when flying into something was sure a bitch. They both tumbled as the sputtering of Mikey's flames extinguished and the rolled in separate directions down the trash filled hallway. The managed to rise to their feet at about the same time, wobbly from the impact they were both struggling to catch their bearings. Mike's sunglasses had fallen off in the tumble. he stood and looked at the man, his eyes were pure white, no hint of color or pupils, just pure Deadpool CGI. "Wrong hood, ass hat. You wanna blow people away, take that shit up to Baltimore or Philly," his hands ignited into thick flames that writhed up his forearms, the moment his hands ignited, his eyes went from white, to being set aflame as well. The flames dances and licked across his eyebrows. His voice was an intense combination of adrenaline and street slang. "So I'm gon' make this shit simple. We gon' walk down them stairs and you're gonna wait with me til the cops arrive, or I'ma start dolling out third degree ass whoopins'. So, you lookin' to get down right here?" He held out his hands, cocked his head and took a step forward egging the man on for a fight.
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