2012-12-04 Necessary Precautions

Domino had planned on waiting for Logan to make the call. She was going to wait a few days, do some business, stir up some trouble, then finally own up and try to be responsible with what happened with the others in Latveria. How quickly these plans can change after randomly bumping into the only soul riding a motorcycle on the unused stretch of road that she had been barreling down. Things are starting to catch up to her faster than she likes.
The call is made with her earbud clipped into place, pacing around the parked black Nissan sedan that she tucked beneath one of the bridges off of Manhattan. "Logan. It's me. There's been a development. How quickly can you get to the south side of the Island? Grab a good doctor or labcoat on your way out if you can. Going silent soon as the call ends."
Once she's off the phone, Dom walks back to the trunk and hauls out the only plasma rifle in her arsenal, following Cable's instructions on powering it up before she comes to stand by the passenger-side door. Sitting inside is another form, one which isn't going anywhere without her say so.
For the longest time, the form sitting in the passenger seat has been in a deep slumber. Not a single motion has come from his costumed form, save for the slow and steady rising and falling of his chest at a nearly hibernated pace. However, the nanites injected into him by the nefarious Doctor Doom have not appreciated what's being done to their victim in the slightest. In a knee-jerk effort to counter the heavy dose given to him, they begin to eject little doses of the special narcotic masterminded by Von Doom in an effort to jump start Domino's prisoner.
It works. Sort of. Shift's body begins to phase in and out of solid form, as if his cells were reacting purely on instinct. The costume, a suit made of unstable molecules procured on the black market, goes right along with it. The occasional 'poof' of sound comes when his body morphs into thick, black smoke, followed by a sucking sound as it recollects into his human shape again. This happens again and again, and random intervals, yet it remains clear that for the time being, Shift is staying in dreamland.
How quickly can Logan get there? About thirty minutes.
He arrives in costume - a red-eyed, form-fitting, black and gray affair - and sitting astride a vintage motorcycle. Behind him sits a Latin American woman with a long white labcoat wrapped awkwardly around her body; she's the only one with a helmet between them, and until he comes to a complete stop a couple of feet in front of the Nissan, she keeps her arms circled tightly around his ribs.
"Might wanna get your engine looked at," he flatly says after glancing between the pale-skinned mercenary and her carful of black smoke. "She's a doctor; works over at Bellevue," he continues, gesturing behind himself with a little tilt of his head before climbing off.
"Right," she mumbles on cue, barely audbile as she tugs her helmet off. "Yes," she adds a little louder as she scoots back off of the motorcycle. Her free hand goes back through her shoulder-length black hair briskly a few times to try and force some semblance of order over it. "My name is Eliza, I don't--I guess you don't have a chart that I ca--aah!"
The doctor catches a glimpse of a Ghanaian where, moments ago, there was nothing but smoke; after holding a hand over her heart briefly, she swallows and sets her eyes squarely on Domino.
"She's a professional," Wolverine mutters, looking to the bridge above. "Got a degree and everything."
She can hear the bike arriving before she can see it. Something about Domino has changed since she's returned to this part of the planet. More cold, less trusting. An even more honed edge to an already sharp demeanor. Following the sound of the bike she places her latest car between herself and the bike's arrival, using it for cover as well as to help hide the bulky rifle from sight.
Sure enough, it's Logan. Or, Wolverine, as the case may be. And he managed to find someone along the way. Though when the X-Man introduces the unfamiliar woman Dom gives her a peculiar stare before looking back to Logan. "Can we trust her?"
There isn't much need to point out Shift's current situation. Domino merely offers a "Sorry, didn't expect him to react to the pills like that. I need his blood checked over with the finest toothed comb you've got, Eliza. He mentioned something about nanites being introduced to his system, I need to know what they're capable of and I need it as quickly as possible. You'll be paid for the trouble."
Hopefully she can trust Eliza alone with Shift for a moment, the albino moving to stand beside Wolverine in order to get him caught up to speed without anyone else overhearing. "Ran him clean off the road outside of the city, was raving like a lunatic. Said he was free to go, just flew himself on back over here. Something about being given that 'present' of his and being doped up. Until we know what's in his system we can't trust him. For all I know he's transmitting his location and everything he sees and hears right back to Latveria."
The transitions from solid to smoke seems to be happening much faster now, and with less predictability. During those moments when Shift has fully formed into a human man, his eyes seem to be stirring. It would seem the nanites are refusing to give up until they have brought him back to consciousness, though without the proper equipment given, there would be no way to know that except by a stroke of impossible luck.
With three final and very rapid transitions, Shift finally lets out a beleaguered grunt of noise. His eyelids part just so, but he seems utterly lost in some sort of altered state. Indeed, so much of the narcotic has been released by the nanites in his body that he's the splitting image of a man close to overdosing; the opiates have lit up his dopamine receptors such that he can barely register his surroundings, or make out the quiet voices outside.
He doesn't seem to care. The drug's grip on him is fierce, and yet another sign of the cruelty handed down by Victor Von Doom. At least, for now, the phase shifting has settled, taking place at fewer intervals and for a shorter period of time when they do strike.
"Yeah," Logan murmurs as Eliza quickly digs through the bike's footlocker for her supplies, then hurries to the car. "Pulled her daddy out've a hole in Vietnam, a ways back; we got an understandin'."
"/Nanites/," Eliza hisses as she preps a needle to get a sample of Shift's blood. "Look, I can get his blood, but I don't--I mean, we--" The doctor pauses thoughtfully for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip.
"--I guess the lab /did/ get--and if I asked Harl nicely..." she absently murmurs, moving on to checking along Kwabena's arm for a pulse as she looks up at the albino. "I'll try; no promises or anything, but--I'll see what I can do." Exhaling, she returns her attention to the fading Ghanaian and leans closer, two fingers pressed against a spot on his arm.
"You're gonna be alright, alright?" she quietly promises, shifting the syringe to her free hand. "Just hold still..." And with that, she gingerly slides the tip of the needle into the mutant's arm to take her sample--or tries to, anyway.
Domino nods slowly in silence as Logan gives his word on being able to trust this doctor, though as Shift starts to come around she just as easily braces the rifle up toward her shoulder. It's kept aimed down, but ready.
"I don't like this," she confides with Wolverine. "Same thing with him. Blink's comp'ed. Said that Danvers and myself had been killed. Didn't tell me anything about Betsy, but that's three of us left alive. There's a chance the others are still in one piece."
Domino hesitates as she watches Shift, apparently beyond cloud nine on whatever is riding in his system.
"..Or close enough to." The lower edge of a blackened lip is lightly chewed upon as she leaves everything hanging in the air. Then, without the benefit of eye contact, she confirms the one issue that had been left unresolved between the two. "I've got your back when you kids make your move. Shift's far from combat-ready, gonna need all the extra hands we can get."
When the needle touches skin, Shift's entire arm phases out again, leaving the syringe hovering amongst dense smoke. It's a very brief change, for the body reforms again, right around that syringe. The doped up mutant gives forth a groan of displeasure and his head lolls toward Eliza, bouncing a couple of times off the headrest behind him, but he still seems no more aware of his surroundings than he was a moment ago.
"What the f--" Eliza sputters when her impossible suspicion - that the smoke and the man are one and the same - is confirmed. "I--you can't /do/ that," she chides, for lack of a better response once he's solid again. Blood rushes into the chamber as the plunger is carefully drawn back.
"Might as well assume they all are," Wolverine replies, keeping his voice well out of Eliza's earshot. When Domino does him the favour of saving him the inevitable phone call in a few days' time, the tracker shifts to face her fully. "Yeah," he grunts. "We need t' get you in touch with the SHIELD boys, then; let 'em run their intel by someone who's been there."
With that, he turns back to the car, and after tipping his chin towards Shift, continues, "Far as he goes: if he's willin'--I might know a place for 'im to recover. Someone who can help 'im--/really/ help 'im."
"That part's normal, Doc," Domino offers back to the other woman. "He's often trying to be in two places at the same time. Sometimes he even manages to succeed." Unfortunately, there's nothing more that the albino can do about it. Eliza's pretty well on her own over there.
"If we assume the alternative we're going to have a helluva time motivating the troops," she seconds. The thought of having to deal with SHIELD directly is enough to bring a low groan into play. "This just keeps getting better, doesn't it. Alright. I'll run through the motions."
It should be easier than this. Dom's had years of practice, countless opportunities for first-hand experience. It's just another ugly scenario born from a combat situation. But, that's still her -friend- over there. It doesn't show on the outside, but way down in there she's praying that she won't ever have to pull the trigger on one of their own.
"He might need to be persuaded." Not the friendly sort of persuasion, either. "I can drop him off if you've got somewhere in mind, otherwise I'm gonna get him settled in a cheap hotel somewhere."
Doom's narcotic works hard, but it also works quickly. It's not much more than a beat after Eliza has withdrawn from the car when Shift comes to. His eyes open wider, and for a moment he merely stares at her blankly. Then, with rapid glances, they look at the dashboard, the floorboard, his own gunmetal-gray-clad body, and finally, those outside.
Air gets sucked into his lungs in the form of a violent, teeth-borne hiss while he bolts up right and backs away from the door, scooting deeper into the vehicle. Betrayal enters his mismatched eyes when they find Domino, flooded with a glowering stare unlike anything she's ever seen in him. Each of his hands begin clenching into fists, paired with an odd crackling sound. The tiny hairs on his fingers lie down flat while the flesh therein begins to do the opposite of what was happening before - hardening into a surface that begins to resemble rock or metal rather than human skin.
Shift's legs coil back as if prepared to pounce right out of the car, but the sight of Domino's weapon gives him pause. There were not many things that could truly harm him, but energy weapons were a proven danger. The glowing lights upon that dastardly weapon bring about a smoldering look which, while still filled with a sense of betrayal, is cooling gently into ice. Whether the other mutant is visible to him or not goes unknown; his death stare seems to be leveled solely upon Domino.
The needle is clear a few seconds before Shift's body becomes entirely /too/ solid; the bewildered doctor can't help but briefly prod the curiously hardened surface before scooting back a step and getting the sample tucked safely away amongst her things. "You--" She raises her eyes to him, but they quickly fall at the sight of his fury. "--you, uh, should probably--rest, or something," she tentatively finishes.
"I'm good at persuasion," Logan assures, casting a narrow-eyed glance towards the car. "Hotel's fine, 'till we know for sure he ain't broadcastin'; push comes to shove, I can send someone to his room to take care of 'im." He then turns to face the car and cups a hand around his mouth.
"I was you, I'd sit there, let the nice lady do her job, an' cool it with the evil eye!" he shouts, startling Eliza.
Domino only makes one subtle motion as Shift starts to come around in a none too pleasant manner. She repositions her finger from the side of the weapon's receiver to its curved trigger. She has to be smart about this, smarter than she's been about things in the past. One more mistake, no matter how small. Everything could fall apart. Their footing is a far cry from being solid, as it is.
Steady, now.
"No excuses, kiddo," she calls back to Shift from her vantage point. "Just try to see things from my side. I would expect the same from anyone else if I had been in your position." It's the only sign she's yet shown of understanding why he's got that betrayed look in his eyes. The emotion is acknowledged, even given justification, but, as the saying goes, her hands are tied. What other choice does she have?
Back to Logan, her expression as grim as ever, she mutters "Good. That might come in handy. I'll try to get him situated but don't count on him staying put for too long, drugging him twice is out of the question."
"And Logan..? Thanks for coming out here." She may well owe the tracker one.
The crackling sound subsides, only to be replaced by something resembling pops and hisses as his flesh reverts to its normal form. Logan's voice prompt's his eyes to glance from Domino to Eliza, then back to Domino again. "What is this," speaks the heavily accented Ghanaian with more than a healthy dose of venom in his tone. "More experimentations?"
When Domino makes an attempt to reason with him, however, the look of betrayal subsides just so. It was difficult to earn Kwabena's trust, and just as difficult to break it. She's come damned close, but perhaps she hasn't quite pushed him over the edge just yet. He stares at her for a long moment, then settles his eyes upon the weapon that is pointed at him.
"Let me give you a choice, Domino," he answers, once again turning his conflicted and glowering gaze upon her. "I will give you a chance. I will try to see these things from your side. But I am going to get out of this car. I won't run, but if you try to shoot me, this is over."
The Ghanaian slowly lifts his hands up in a sign of half surrender, but then he begins to scoot toward the open door. All the while, his eyes glare at Domino, as if daring her to prove herself wrong and pull the trigger.
"Just a sample," Eliza hastily assures as she takes a step back from the car. "So that we can figure out how to get you healthy." Rather than risk drawing the Ghanian's ire, she looks off into the distance beyond him as she hugs her kit against her body.
"Easy," Logan meanwhile growls when Kwabena looks to Eliza, taking a step closer to the car. Just one; the ball is squarely in Domino's court, and once that offer is out there, Wolverine glances towards the patch-eyed woman to see what she'll do with it.
"Part of the job," he asides to her.
Unlike how Doom chose to handle the group, no one is a prisoner of Domino's. At the worst, Shift is merely under heavy escort. He can leave, if he wants to. She's hoping that he decides to stick around, though.
Her head inclines a degree or two, but her aim never shifts. No attack is forthcoming. "We've seen what kind of tech Doom's got at his beck and call, and you've got some of it inside of you. We don't know what it does. It could be putting every last one of us in danger, not to mention that he believes I'm dead and gone. That's not the sort of hand we want to expose. So here's the deal. You can stick with us. We'll find you somewhere safe to hole up, we'll try to figure out what's inside of you, we'll try to get you back to yourself. If you do, you have to expect us to be on high guard until we've figured out if whatever's inside of you is a threat to any of us. The alternative, you can get up and walk away. Here, now, whenever. If you do, you're on your own. No one enjoys going through this dance, but it's what we have to do. Choice is yours. Just remember that I wouldn't be wasting my time with this if I didn't think it was for a good cause. Make the call."
It would seem that Shift is finally beyond questioning whether Domino is an apparition, or some hallucination put forth upon him by those nanites swimming inside of his body. Fortunately, that decision, however and whenever it was made, gives him just enough clarity to actually listen to her.
And her words make sense.
Throughout her dialogue, Shift's glowering expression is replaced by one of hesitant questioning; questioning his own perception of what happened at Castle Von Doom, and what has happened ever since he got up and left. What of it was real, what of it was not? If Domino was not dead, then perhaps Blink didn't betray them. Perhaps Carol did not suffer a heart attack under Doom's torture. Perhaps the nanites in his bloodstream won't kill him when they run out of juice and push him into withdrawal.
Perhaps it wasn't Betsy kneeling before him when he put a bullet through her head.
The Ghanaian's lips part with the first tendrils of acceptance; acceptance of the possibility that he was tricked far more expertly than he could have imagined. If it's true, if Domino's words are as honest as he wants to believe them to be, then she's right... she has no choice.
Confusion and hesitation eventually settle into a form of acceptance. Raw, blunt and numb acceptance. The anger and malice seep from his eyes until they drift over toward Eliza, for once not carrying some form of threatening terror. The kit held close in her arms is noticed, along with the vial containing his blood. A soft sigh is given, before he looks upon the unfamiliar and costumed man who has joined them.
"Give me your word," he quietly demands, then looks back at Domino to clarify who he is speaking to. "Give me your word that you are here to help, that you are not -lying- to me and trying to trick me." He tilts his head to the left, staring at her with just one speculative eye drilled upon her.
As soon as Shift looks away from her, Eliza hustles back to the bike to get her stuff safely put away. Now that he's not looking quite so murderous - or unbreakable, or intangible - she doesn't seem quite so shaken by him; dealing with addicts is one thing. Dealing with addicts who might turn into a wisp while nodding out is quite another.
"If she was lyin', we wouldn't be havin' this nice, peaceful conversation we're havin'," Wolverine interjects, "because I'd /know/. She called me t' make sure you get help." A gesture is made towards Eliza, who just leans her head a little further into the footlocker rather than wave or something, "Nothin' else."
At that, he glances to Domino out of the corner of an eye; whatever she has to say is sure to be far more valuable right now, no matter what endorsements he provides.
How can Domino answer a question like that and have her words believed? Give a little, get a little. As Shift shows a moment of clarity (and what excellent timing for that on his part), she slowly catches the sling of her rifle and sweeps it across her back rather than having it in her hands, ready to go. If Shift can be -stable- then she doesn't need to keep him under the gun. Her bigger concern is getting pulverized by that skin of his once it turns into the consistency of forged steel.
"I've got nothing in the world to gain by lying to you, and a whole lot of potential gain by telling the truth. Logan's right. We need you back on your feet. Some of us had so much fun on that last suicide run that we're choosing to do it all over again. There's others that need our help." Even she moves past the 'maybe' sort of thinking. It isn't that the others -might- be alive out there. They -are- alive. The only hope any of them have right now? It starts with these three.
"And no more spiked vodka. Promise."
Two things. A slung rifle, and a promise of no more spiked vodka. It's enough to bring the beginnings of a smirk to Shift's face, one that starts slowly but soon forms into that look she would know all too well. While he's tempted to reach out and clap her across the shoulder like two old war buddies, he decides not too.
Might be too soon.
Instead, he tips his head back in a quick reverse nod, then starts to adopt a less predatory stance, instead slouching back just a bit and letting his hands fall to his side. He turns his head toward Logan next, studying him for a moment before giving the man a slow and accepting nod.
"I am sorry if I scared you, Doctor," he calls past him, addressing Eliza. "It has been one bitch of a week. I hope you understand what I mean."
A deep and steadying breath is taken, before he shrugs with his hands. "Okay, then. What is next?" He looks between Domino and Logan with eyebrows raised up a bit.
"You get clean," is Logan's immediate response. His tone is flat, business-like; his eyes, narrowed and judgmental. "You get healthy; if you're healthy enough by the time we go, you can stay or go. I ain't gonna force you." His eyes - hidden by red lenses - shift briefly towards Domino, there. "'till you're clean, though, you're a danger to yourself and and the rest of us," he adds, echoing the albino's concerns.
"We have a microscope at the lab - it's new, I think they maybe used some of Ray Palmer's research?" is Eliza's response to the apology, delivered along with an understanding shake of her head. "It /might/ give us some good images. Enough to give us a starting point." After chewing her lip a moment, she adds, "I don't think I'm /ever/ really going to understand what you mean, and I'm grateful for that; /I/m sorry," in a sympathetic murmur, then shuts the footlocker.
"It's alright, Eliza," Domino tries to offer in reassurance. "Just do the best you can."
Wolverine nails the question on the head, Dom yet standing her ground but now with arms loosely folded together in front of herself. Whether that had been an attempt at humor before or not isn't easy to tell, she's keeping herself surprisingly stoic. "You're strong, Shift. You can get through this. We can help. If you're going to work with us then I'm going to give you a ride, cover your stay at a hotel, and come back for you as soon as I have any concrete results on your bloodwork. Contact will be minimal, but I'll be keeping an eye on you as much as I can. Trust is going to be a mutual thing, we need to know where you are until this gets sorted out. If you can do that for us then hop back in the car and we'll get going. We should be done here for now."
Oh, not -quite- done. "Just one thing," Dom adds in. "From your own viewpoint. What happened to Psylocke?"
So many people do not yet understand the intricacies of English being Kwabena's second language. So often, when he tries to clarify if people understand him, it's because he still questions whether everyone is able to understand his thick accent. Regardless, he offers her a bit of knowledge that might help guide her way. "I don't know how many are inside me, but they will release some few toxins that have some same effects as heroin, only worse. Stronger, more potent, but the effects do not last as long."
Then he looks back to the others. "According to Doom, when the nanites run out of the toxin, I'm dead. So don't take too long."
To Wolverine, the Ghanaian nods his head once or twice in agreement, then the same goes for Domino. "I will do what ever you need," he answers to both of them, and is about ready to hop in that car.
But... not... just... yet.
He turns back to Domino and seems frozen for a few moments by her question. He fights to keep expression from his face, but the result is that his eyes harden and his jaw tightens under the momentary strain of gnashing teeth. "From my viewpoint?" he asks, voice suddenly much quieter and sober. A painfully long moment lingers, and he can't help but let the horrible memories flash through his mind in painful detail. "She's dead. But we all know that's a lie, right?"
Stubbornly, Shift turns and walks back to the car.
"Way I hear it, the guy's got a hell of an ego on 'im; given what happened t' the teleporter..." Wolverine's eyes twitch instinctively towards Eliza, who is staring off over the water and doing everything short of plugging her ears and singing to make sure none of the three mutants get the idea that she might be eavesdropping.
"... I wouldn't be surprised if he was tryin' the same on the rest of 'em," the tracker finishes with a small nod in the Ghanaian's direction. Despite the hopeful assurance, his jaw is tight: having gotten a picture of what life is like for survivors in Latveria, it seems that coming out on the other side battered and paranoid is the /best/ that one could hope for.
Circling around to his footlocker, he does a little rummaging before coming up with a pad and paper; after scribbling a couple of numbers down, he tears that sheet off and returns to the albino, pressing it into her hand. "SHIELD guys on the front," he quietly tells her, leaning in close. "Baxter Building on the back; when she gets the results, she'll contact you. If she can't fix it herself, call 'em; ask for Reed Richards. Tell 'em whatever you want, as long as you tell 'em I asked you do it; long as he can keep his head outta the clouds, he should be able to do /somethin'."
Domino snaps her fingers and points to Wolverine in the same motion, "He told me that the others were dead. All but our little Blink, he seems to take a lot of pride in telling everyone how she's now under his rule." Is anyone looking forward to trying to deal with the teleporter now that she's on the other team? Any way you look at the problem, it isn't going to be pleasant.
When the note is passed her way she quickly glances over both sides then folds it and tucks it into a hidden pocket with a single nod. "I read ya, buddy. Keep me posted about potential travel dates. Good luck on your end." It's going to be another long and unpleasant job, but that seems to be what most of them boil down to. Just add it on top of everything else that she has going on, it's not a problem. Really.
"C'mon, Shift. Let's go find you a home away from home."
Moments before entering the car, Shift takes another look over toward Wolverine. Then, he poses a promise. "I'll be healthy. When the time is right, count me in. I'm done with death wishes, but if we're going to get our friends back, I'm not staying behind." Then he looks over at Domino, nodding his head in stark sobriety before hopping back into her car. Once she's in, he casts a glance her way. "If you don't salvage my bike, I'll never forgive you."
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Category:RPLogs