CVnU - Los Angeles (Location Thread)

@last_guardian: shhhh, don't say it. Post it >:)

@soulsexodus: ^.^

@_razor_:

The Custodian flew into the area as The Force (the police force not the Force Force) alerted her to a need for a presence in Los Angeles. She floated over to the scene of the crime and landed one hundred and fifty feet directly in front of the crazed mutant woman. Her trench coat licked at the heels of her boots as she walked forward a few steps. Her mind felt the gravitons of the already abandoned vehicles in the area and a quick thought later and the vehicles lifted gently into the air, floating out of the way of the first responders that would be arriving in the near future.

"You're under arrest." She told the woman simply. "Come along peacefully or come along in pain, those are your options."

The Custodian's eyes never left her potential target, quite certain the woman was going to do anything but surrender. She noted the lack of rage, the lack of emotions that typically led mutants to these sorts of attacks. There's a different reason for this, something more strategic...I'll have to look into it once I have her back at headquarters.

Further clearing the battle zone The Custodian gently lifted the bodies of those who were trying to fleet and sent them farther down the road before she set them down again, being certain not to move anyone too hurt to consider lifting from the ground. She did all of this without moving a hand or blinking an eye. "So which option is it?"

@gale_xanders:

"My placed definitely isn't in the heart of LA, it's quite secluded...the way I like it. The lack of swimming outfit certainly works for me" Ansgar said with a seductive grin. Ansgar began to slow the car, braking for the entrance to his home. He stopped at the front gate, rolling down the window so the eye scanner would recognize him and open the gates automatically.

After his eye was scanned, the black metal gates moved inward and Ansgar eased the car forward. There were no houses on either side of the property and a thick wall of trees and vegetation surrounded the outer edge of the property, within which was a metal fence, concealed by the green forest. The narrow driveway opened up to a bowl-shaped turnaround in which Ansgar brought the car to a stop and hopped out of the car. "Here we are; what do you think?"

@valken:

Xae got out of the car and turned around, looking at the entire estate with a little smile.

Admittedly, most of it was just for his viewing benefit. Xae wasn't exactly subtle with these things, not for lack of skill but because she simply preferred it that way. "I think it's beautiful." She said truthfully. She began to make her way to the pool, already working on deactivating her wrist devices and removing them. She set them carefully on one of the pool side tables and removed her gun belt next, placing that on the table as well.

"I have to ask, is swimming in a pool better than swimming in the ocean?" She wondered. She knew how to swim but didn't do it very often. For some reason it had just never been high on her hobby priority list. Now though she had a particularly attractive reason and that included the possibility of filling her business needs as well. "Secluded is nice...lots of privacy, a place to get away from the world for awhile. I have secluded area I go to as well from time to time."

@the_custodian:

Some of the wreckage of the mass pile up was parted thanks to the gravitational abilities of the first hero to the scene. And so far it appeared to be the only one, it was always a bit amusing the level of reaction events would garnish. Everyone and their grandparents wanted to be heroes it seemed at times but come time to act it was another story. If laws were passed on rights of those with power then maybe the people trying to police the world could do their damn job. It was a change for the better, if anarchy was the necessity for such a change then so be it. Her jade eyes roll to one of the wounded to injured to have been moved.

A boot raises and falls, a moist crack ringing out as a skull fractures and the blade on her foot digs into the bone before its removal. "I know you've likely a fascinating reason for your look. But that face thing? It's hideous." The living weapon remarked brushing off the authoritarian words. From the forearm of Rayne sprouted a series of blades spindly protrusions like that of a porcupine in comparison. She was up against a superior power and would need to use the suroundings to exploit her opponent if she was to stand a chance.

"Don't ask the rhetorical please" she concluded with a grin before breaking into a sprint. In tandem with her run spikes were shot from her hands sporadically parting but precise in aim. The various blades looked to further maim the wounded and even disfigure the dead. Likely it would be a mostly inferior move, it did however demand a heroes attention. Sentiment was the weakness of all the good costumed freaks within the world. Need to save should Razor assumed allow her to close the distance.

She'd drop into a slide near the end looking to bring her taloned foot into the calfs of her adversary. Removing the ability to walk was never a bad move and given that her blades rivaled things like adamantine and vibranium she was confident it's blades would cut cleanly. This however was also part ruse as one of her two clawed fists carved into the asphalt in the move. Her knuckles would peel apart and regrow dispensing metallic blades of marrow into the ground. Like the scattering rounds of buckshot in a shotgun these blades would move through the ground and then shoot upward. Looking to riddle the back of the gravity manipulator. And finally in rising to her feet to a more proper stance fists would lash out wanting to dig claws into the lungs of the opposition. Razor knew she was outclassed but her hand to hand abilities had rarely failed her. Of course at the same time Rayne didn't have to care about winning or losing a fight like most. Perhaps the greatest aspect for how she fought was that she was always tied to the actions and never really the reaction.

(<.< got tired of waiting to see if anyone else would jump in early)

The Custodian sighed at the needless kill and shook her head. When the attack began her first attention was predictably drawn to saving the innocent. She did not, however, pay any attention to blades going towards corpses. She reached out with her mind and immediately manipulated the individual gravitational fields of each of the blades flying at the wounded and sent them flying up instead out, straight into space where they would do no harm to anyone. Now made aware of her ability to fire dozens of small blades The Custodian focused her attention on all the gravitons on the area, able to sense each one and what it was interacting with, it was a means of identifying potential threats and quickly acting against them.

The foot was a different story, a quick calculation confirmed that attempting to weigh the woman down wouldn't be effective enough at this short of a distance short of crushing her like a grape, something she wished to avoid. Instead she adjusted her own gravity, swiftly launching into the air to hover over the attack, the talon just barely missing its target, though the blades did scrape the inside of her leg, leaving a long trail of bright yellow blood. The Custodian ignored the pain, suddenly realizing there were objects flying towards her back. She acted swiftly, able to gain control of most of the objects before they could strike. A few did, sticking into her back and leaving wounds but her bodly quickly forced the spikes out and onto the ground. Once more working to ignore the back wounds she flicked her wrist, flinging the bone shards into orbit to join their brothers.

In nearly the same moment fists came flying for her chest. The Custodian brought her arm up and around, deflecting one fist by pressing her forearm against wrist and forearm and shoving it to the side. The second fist she pivoted in mid air to avoid, twisting her torso so the fist would graze her coat rather than cleave into her chest. Not one to allow her opponent to maintain the initiative The Custodian sought now to launch her own attacks, though none were with fists or feet. Intead she sought to dramatically increase the gravitational pull on Razor, seeking to make her feel ten times heavier and thus make actions both much more tiring to pull off and much slower. At the same moment she put her palm towards her enemy's shoulder and revealed the reason for her helmet. A burst of blinding light, hot enough to sear flesh and bone, shot forth from her palm. As she fired the hopefully arm crippling shot the blinding flash caused her black face plate to instantly polarize, protecting her own eyes from the light's effects.

@the_custodian:

It was irrefutable the taloned terror was of inferior power, and her style was not particularly the tech savvy kind to compensate for such a loss. Surrendering wasn't however the marrow casting Rayne's style. Her attacks were deflected ripping cloth but not flesh. Some blades pierced the back but nowhere near enough to be a critical blow. And as her chain of attacks came to an end the gravity influencing law bringer made moves of her own.

Gravity increased to a point she couldn't move, to a point where muscles begged to stop trying. Heavy was her body and soon more effects would be added as the hand near her shoulder lit up. A flash of white and then it was all Razor could see the attack was blinding. Her arm to was burned muscle and flesh pealed away and a brief shine could be seen as a small portion of metallic bones caught the light. And many might think this to be the end but it wasn't. Hardened for combat with many types Razor was not a stranger to her movement hindered or senses harmed. Instead she just focused on knowing the bones about her. Razor had yet to develop a manipulation of others marrow but she could sense it and control her own.

Through mental command over other muscles doing the work she ordered her next attack. Her movent looked like that of a marionette dancing upon strings. A knee shot upward looking to impact the ribs, from her knee a foot long blade looking to dig in deep. To tag along with the attack the blade would lose its grip, the gravitational influence on Razor snapping the disposed blade with a ripping speed outside of Rayne's own ability. The wounded arm lunged forward looking for the throat, of course her blades known to cut steel with ease was potent but this was more so a ruse.

For the free hand currently behind the living weapons back was performing a new trick for Scarlett Rayne Oren. It was painful, although she didn't show it her body was screaming. Not only for moving at a decent pace despite gravities burden but also because she was removing and regrowing her spine at the same time. Turning a spinal cord into a whip that once removed briefly painted asphalt vermillion. Such a visceral arch of paint was continued in the surprise swing of the quick flurry. The sharp blade covered whip looked to coil around the legal enforcer. Looking to dig into bone more then anything else. Like magnets the bladed marrow sought to cling to, get wedged between, and impale the bones of the opposition. A ruthless plan set in motion in effort to refute the law.

The Custodian had underestimated her opponent's ability to continue in the oppressive arms of gravity. Her preference to not kill someone was already being tested by someone intent on pushing forward and causing as much harm to her as possible. When the next attack came The Custodian reacted by now altering the pull of gravity so that Razor's body would suddenly be pulled towards a building on the opposite side of the street with the acceleration of a speeding car. Her objective was to 'shove' her opponent into the building and out of immediate range of her attacks.

At the same moment the knee that had lashed out had a hidden danger and a foot long spike of bone snapped out at alarming pace. It was all she could do to grab hold of its gravitons and try to weigh it down until it could no longer threaten her. Her abilities were fast but at this range, not fast enough. The spike sank six full inches into her chest, right through her heart in an attack that should have been fatal. The Custodian dropped to one knee, in this way just barely avoiding the whip attack if her gravitational throw had failed. For a moment it would seem to any on lookers that she'd been killed and just hadn't fallen over yet...but her body pushed the spike from her heart and restarted it as her Binary physiology simply refused death.

The Custodian pushed herself from her knees and back to her feet. She pulled the spike out not with her hands but with pure gravitational force and shunted it off into space, fairly certain her foe could manipulate it if it was within range. Her gravitational awareness was such that she deftly avoided any man-made constructs floating in orbit. Yellow blood trickled freely from the deep wound in her chest that would take some time to heal and the pain certainly didn't vanish just because the threat to her life had. It was one thing to avoid death, quite another to avoid the pain that came with it.

Determined now to end the combat and leave her opponent crippled and unable to retaliate further, she flung a pair of blinding light beams at the woman.

@the_custodian:

It was right around the time the hole in her arm was closing and a series of attacks were being made when gravity once more seized the mutant revolutionist. The song of blades that was her performance found a drop in the beat as the taloned terror slammed into a building. Windows shattered and cracks webbed from the bricks, Rayne effectively pinned down. Her opponent wasn't dead even with the lethal wound inflicted. She knew the dead and the law enforcing figure wasn't looking the part.

Two lances of light shot forward what sight she'd managed to get back was gone again and a new hole was punched through knee and wrist. Skin peeled away to reveal glittering bone. "You could at least stop pulling your punches like a bitch" the rejuvenating revoltest commented as her spine like whip broke apart and looked to form a sphere of blades around the gravity manipulator and rain down upon her. Of course odds were they would be repelled, gravity surpassing a move that was akin to low level telekinesis. That was fine though for that was a ruse the real attack was internal.

As the knee blade entered the body it met bones and Rayne had focused on knowing them. Of trying to get a hold on them while the blade was present within her enemies body. She couldn't manipulate the marrow of a foe like she could her own but as bone met bone she could potentially get at least a grip. Razor then used that grip to execute one of the simplest moves, trying to command the bones to come to Rayne. With any luck the ribs would form a chest busting experience that'd put the opponent down. Odds might not be in Razor's favor but she'd be damned if she didn't go down swinging.

@_razor_:

Rayne was right about the sphere of blades, she immediately caught hold of them and cast them away with their own gravitons. By now she'd grown accustomed to all the false attacks being launched her way and expected something more...she wasn't disappointed. The woman's abilities tried to grab hold of her rib cage and break it apart through her chest, an attack that would and should have been fatal, had she not been fighting a Binary.

Pain tore through The Custodian's body like an explosion through her chest, but her body compensated, as the blade wielder's powers tried to pull apart her rib cage, her body determined the location of the threat and acted accordingly. The bones being manipulated suddenly broke off of the rib cage at the precise location necessary to sever her control. As a result the entire fatal attack resulted instead in several large portions or rib breaking off and ripping through her chest in a series of successive yellow bursts.

The Custodian dropped to one knee, trying to control her breathing as her body ensured her survival, following its design to a tee. Her eyes narrowed, anger coursing through her along with the pain as yellow blood ran down the front of her clothing. She licked her lips and determined to end the battle there and then. She stood slowly, forcing herself back to her feet and immediately launched a new attack on the apparently regenerative opponent. She held back only enough to not pop her like a balloon, working to increase the gravity and pressure on her body, seeking to pin her to the ground with enough gravitational force that it would feel as if someone had placed a one hundred ton weight on her chest. She knew her opponent could regenerate now so any damage caused by it was no longer her concern.

She didn't stop her assault there however, instead she sought to apply separate gravitational pulls on her limbs, attempting to pull her arms and legs in separate directions, very similar to drawing and quartering someone, except that her plan was to hold them in place, prevent them from tearing free of her body but hold it just at that threshold. Need to end this before I'm forced to leave to recover. Binaries were unkillable (barring specific circumstances involving love) but that didn't mean they couldn't be forced out of a fight and The Custodian was very near to that point.

@the_custodian:

Her eyes narrowed in pain doing everything she could to stay conscious and keep her head up. The reality of course being she had lost already from the move, this was just stubbornness. Mocking the restraint taken in combat even now as good as it was. She was a woman who had just tried to rip out her opponents rib cage and partially succeeded. The malicious merciless nature of Razor was aparent on a visceral level. So dedicated to play the hero that even now after that Rayne wasn't being put to rest. It was a softness, a lack of edge the revolutionary spat upon. Arguably none of that mattered however as she lay in the road. Her arms and legs pulled to a point of almost breaking from the sockets. As strong as her bones were the reinforcement of muscle between joints wasn't equivalent. It'd be hard but she could be ripped apart and in the moment she almost was. While the pull of gravity crushed most her organs, they'd of stopped functioning at all if not for the healing factor necessary to be a mutant like her. After a bit of fighting off the force of nature though Rayne head butted the asphalt with enough force to leave a hole in the road. Her brain rattling in her head like a pin ball briefly. She was undoubtably unconscious for a good long while.

(Take me away copper, tag Apex in wherever you take her though please just to make sure I don't miss it lol)

@_razor_: @apex_

The Custodian watched her opponent until she was certain the woman was out of the fight. She then crossed the distance between them and crouched down, examining the woman for signs she was in fact still alive at all.

Why do they never just surrender? She wondered, closing her eyes for a moment as her body continued to inform her of its deep injuries through exceptional pain. She took a breath, an act which hurt in and of itself and then stood again, opening her eyes once more. She sighed. Unfortunately, she doesn't fall into the Binary Jurisdiction or I'd just toss her into a Void Prison and be done with it. The Force has cells designed to hold so people though and there is a station in LA. She shifted her gaze as first responders began to arrive and then levitated the wounded woman from the ground. She walked her way to the Force Precinct, the restricted body of the fallen terrorist floating at her side. Her wounds continued to bleed, her body would heal within a matter of twenty four hours but she did not possess the combat level regeneration of her opponent. What she did possess though had kept her alive, a simple lack of ability to die.

Eventually she arrived at the station, the woman was booked and placed into a stasis pod that would be transported to a prison on a small island off the coast of Alaska, where it would be stored in a prison with other similar beings, though she'd be woken from her stasis and placed inside of an 'escape proof' cell. The Custodian nodded to the police officer behind the counter as the woman's stasis pod was processed and moved out of sight.

"You look like crap." He said.

"Good." The Custodian replied. "I should look how I feel." She left the building and sat down on the steps, looking out at the city, glad a mask covered her eyes. Why do I let them live? I know it was our way but I can't help but feel like allowing these people to live is what's causing all this chaos in the first place. She'll get out eventually, one way or another. Then someone else will have to deal with her, someone she might end up killing, all because I chose to let her live. She ran her gloved fingers over the yellow blood staining the front of her shirt. The wounds of standing up for life instead of death. I could have ended that fight before it even started.

She closed her eyes and for a moment she saw the loving face of her brother, The Monitor. He'd loved this world and she had dedicated herself to its defense in his name. Am I failing you brother? I know you wouldn't want me to break the law and put her in a void prison or to kill her but...She looked down at her hands. What am I supposed to do? This world isn't like other worlds, there are so many powerful people here, people that threaten the lives of others for no reason. She reached up, brushing a tear from her face before it could be noticed. I'm so happy for you...but sometimes I selfishly wish you were still alive to guide me.

The life of a Binary with no partner in life was a difficult one. One The Custodian had never thought she'd experience. There was a void in her heart where a brother should have been.

@the_custodian: thought it'd be moved to a different thread lol my bad guess the Apex tag was pointless.

Good post though was a fun little fight and achieved what I wanted. Was out to cause damage and mess with heroes heads. And given the well done inner monologue I'd say that was a success :P

@noir_anarchist:

Thanks :)

It's always fun to write battles with The Custodian, difficult to figure out how her body will cheat death sometimes.

Los Angeles, nearing midnight

The most populous city in the U.S. State of California and the second most populous in the United States of America after New York City, with a population at the 2010 united States Census of 3,792,621. Los Angeles was a very big city.

But today; Kurt was intending on meeting just one of those 3,792,621.

Abigail Aensland.

A close but forgotten friendship which stemmed back to the very core of his heroic lifestyle.

One which, in fact, had shaped his very being and essence for longer than even the Emerald Archer himself would care to admit, and one that had been left and neglected by Kurt and Abigail alike, leaving the Gothic Knight wondering if better times may have come and the bad warded off, had the two not grown as distant.

After all, 'Arquitenens' was his first ever crime fighting partner in Gothic City far too many years ago. The two had fought side-by-side, even attempting to once go deep undercover in the mutant country of Venezuela and assassinate the Supreme Chancellor - Ironically a man slain by Ivana.

How times had changed.

-Hotel near Avalon, overlooking the city-

Former Commissioner Pendragon sighed, leaning over the edge of a balcony having just been in contact with a friend of Abigail, providing him with the location of his first heartache. The archer had long since overcome his romantic feelings for Abigail but nonetheless knew that that moment had been the catalyst which had fractured and broken their friendship, ultimately leading to both of the archers going their separate ways. Mask in hand, Kurt looked down at the green piece of cloth used to protect his eyes, clenching it within his hand tightly.

"This is too late."

Kurt thought aloud, bringing up the eye mask in his balled fist and nervously resting it on his mouth. He hadn't spoken to her in months, not even within the League of Shadows.

"She'll hate me."

Kurt knew it was a lie, Abigail was not capable of hate. At least, not the Abigail he had known. She was one of the most pure and good people left on this earth. "I should have been there." When events transpired and caused the Raysh Al Shaytan to kill people by mistake, Kurt, who knew that she had never taken a life before, did not seek to console, advice, nor even help her. I'm here now.

With a nod to motivate himself, Kurt stroked his newly fashioned beard and departed for Abigail's hotel room, making his way there in stealth despite being fully costumed. He arrived. Quickly, the Verdant Archer raised a palm and balled his fist, going to knock but- He paused. Come on, man. It's just Abby.

Firmly, Kurt knocked on the door.

@soterichor@arquitenens

@pyrogram: Oooh, nice! Alright.

Gonna have some fun.

@pyrogram:

When the knock came at her hotel room door Abigail was still in bed, as she'd spent most of her days for the entire week. It came, and her first instinct was to ignore it. Bloody four-star hotel and they couldn't even heed their own "Do Not Disturb" signs.

The Aensland heiress sighed, and she groaned, and continued to lie sprawled across the king-size bed. She didn't move. Whoever it was would think she was gone.

He didn't. He knocked again, and a muffled voice called what she made out to be her name. Familiarity occurred right away, though not exactly whom.

I know that voice.

...

"Shit!" she practically hissed. Kurt. But how? Why now? "Uuuggod..."

With a deep breath, as if the very act of allowance required a Herculean effort, her head lolled aside and she glared at the door. A few seconds later she sat up, and lazily rolled out of bed. She was in no condition to entertain. She looked terrible. But if he wanted to see her at that time, well, bright-coloured jim-jams and the "slept in" look would have to do.

Trudging over to the door, Abby undid the locks and pulled it open, ready to force the biggest smile she could manage when he greeted her.

@arquitenens:

Even without the cognition enhancing drug Project K the Emerald Archer would have easily noticed the disturbing lack of life within Abigail's features.

But on the drug?

The jaded archer appeared more downtrodden than anyone could have imagined. She had lost muscle, her face noticeably thinner than usual - And no make-up residue, indicating to his Project K enhanced mind that she hadn't bothered to clean up nor make herself look presentable in a very long time.

"Who are you trying to kid?"

With no more than a light and compassionate pat on her withered shoulder Kurt brushed past and ambled into the room, pacing over to a mirror as he checked his beard out, giving it a soft stroke in hard thought.

"This is all my fault, Abby. We were supposed to have each others backs, we were supposed to be there for each other." His body turned, gazing into her one working eye as his own glowed green. "..." He signed, gently sitting on the king sized bed, looking into his hands as they slouched over his knees.

"We were supposed to take on the world," the long lost friend glanced at Abby, "not be it's punching bag."

@pyrogram:

Still groggy, as Kurt moved past her Abigail staggered a bit, nearly falling over. She rolled her eyes while his back was turned, though mostly serving to make herself feel worse. She wanted to be glad to see him. It just wasn't a good time. It wasn't a good time for anything.

"Kurt..." She sighed, half-hearing his words but part of her could only think about how annoying it was that he was sitting on her bed. As if the intrusion wasn't bad enough. Now it felt contaminated, and she felt more than a little self-conscious about everything.

Oh God. Does it smell? Do I smell? How bad is it? Before promptly reminding herself there was a conversation to engage in. Although she continued to avoid direct eye contact.

"Well you're not entirely wrong. But it'd be kidding if we pretended this was anything new. We've both been 'punching bags' for the world for a long time." Pushing a half-hearted smile. "What do you want now?" she asked, her voice a bit more irritated and accusatory than she intended.

@arquitenens:

Shaking his head somewhat in response, the Emerald Archer found himself inwardly scoffing at Abigail's broken demeanor. How had this been allowed to pass? Why had it been allowed to pass? Had nobody cared, not a single friend? Kurt suspected that the events of the Black House were partly or largely responsible; giving him a tremendous guilt that that he hadn't stepped in sooner to aid a once loved friend.

"I want to know why my friend has been allowed to become this."

He looked at her and then at the disheveled room almost in disgust, but quickly standing upright and looking at her with care, his palms intermingling as he caressed his green ring.

"I should have spoken up or something when I saw you in the League."

How had that ever happened? The two of them finding themselves there, strange.

"But I wasn't in the right frame of mind, thought I'd do more damage than good."

His emerald gaze wondered, taking a long, thoughtful stare at her broken eye. "Clearly, it was the wrong choice." Looking down sorrowfully, it was quickly shift, an old smile, one he hadn't had in perhaps too long emerged - He looked at his friend with a tinkle of hope.

"It's me, Abby," he said, as though he was trying to remind her who was stood in front.

"Let's leave, get out of this damn hotel and help clear your mind..." His gaze whizzed around as it tried finding any clothes. "...It's past midnight, so only the late-night cafes are open, not many people around. Just two old friends catching up."

The emerald ring on his fingers glowed again, slowly he removed it and placed it into his pocket. "I'm not the Emerald Archer, nor the Gothic Knight, or anything. " The ring glowed through his trouser pocket before simmering and slowly no light at all was visible. "Not tonight," he smiled, looking into her eye, "I'm just plain old Kurt."

@pyrogram:

"Don't try to fix me I'm not broken," she snapped, making eye contact for a brief instant before looking away.

"Kurt I haven't becomeanything. I am what I am. What I always was." A curse. Destructive. A goddamned mutant. She'd never told him, of that or the resentment. He'd had his own issues, and besides she had no interest in anyone trying to "fix" her, as she knew he would. And if life thus far was any indication, there was never any hope for that.

Abby shrugged, then carried herself to a large couch near the centre of the room facing the black screen of a large high-definition television. Curling on the sofa, she held herself in as tight a ball as she could, hugging her arms to her body. "I'm tired of cafes, tired of cities, tired of going out, I'm just...tired. But it's...the kind of tired sleep doesn't fix, y'know what I mean? I slept for thirteen hours straight today. But lately...I am exhausted. I think maybe I have been for a long time, and I'm only just stopping to realise it now.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I don't want to go out so if you wanna say something, you can say it here."

@arquitenens:

Maybe not.

The Emerald Archer felt a little ire build up, clearly irritated by Abigail's snappy response but at the same time understanding somewhat. He had been through the mince grinder in the last few years; in the form of Mistress Sangria, Charlemagne stealing his powers and ultimately murdering him... Losing his arm, and most notably to Abby dealing with his own heartache from losing their friendship.

He sighed, walking over to Abby as she sat and curled up. He didn't walk in front but just stared at the back of her head, placing his own hands to his hips.

"No actually, I don't."

He responded bluntly.

"I don't sleep Abby - You know that."

His powers rendering the human process of sleeping useless for his body and mind. With a seconds pause, Kurt listened to his friend and decided to confront her with his version of the truth. Walking round the couch before looking down at the demoralized woman. It was pitiful and saddening. Her words had almost conjured a feeling of disdainful from the Emerald Archer, who was clearly refusing to believe Abigail's own defeatist thoughts. Abigail had been the light within his and so many lives. The Gothic City heroine that was capable of holding the weight of the world upon her shoulders and moving. At least, that's how Kurt had always seen his former partner.

"This is because you killed people, isn't it?"

A simple statement, a rhetoric one. To come to terms she would have to understand the severity but also the finality -- The deed was done, dusted. All there was left now was to move on with her life; knowing that those who died would not move on with theirs. To combat the inner torment of this... Everyone had to go through a different inner struggle, Kurt knew better than most how reluctant (almost impossibly so) Abigail had been to kill anyone.

The experience of killing was huge and powerful for most. If one went in with the right personal tools, they would come out stronger. If one went in with cracks? They'd get shattered. Clearly, the former Raysh Al Shaytan had been shattered.

But in his mind, not Irreversibly so.

@pyrogram:

"Oh. I guess I forgot."

It wasn't an important detail between them but the act of forgetting stirred an inordinate amount of sadness for what the deed actually was.

Then he mentioned it. Her heart ached, and she was both upset and angry. Had she not been feeling guilty over all of his past troubles and the growing distance between them she would have ordered him out then and there. But if he knew...

He did. For a time Kurt knew her about as well as anyone, probably better than either of her parents when they were alive and well. They'd discussed it times before, during planning and just in idle moments. He knew how she felt. How strongly she felt. So then, his words were designed to hurt. A little payback maybe because he felt abandoned. Any other time, she would've sucked it up and taken it, let him get his shots in. But lately she'd lost her mother, failed repeatedly to get her back, had her trust broken by numerous "allies," and her peace of mind had been completely shattered.

Abigail hung her head at first, then turned around to face him. Looked him straight in the eyes, a searing glare.

"Watch it..."

@thepuzzler: I nearly had a heart attack laughing dude. OMG...

I can attest to this. You almost killed my boyfriend.

@arquitenens:

Firmly, the Emerald Archer responded.

"No."

Matching the intensity of her searing glare, his eyes flickered green.

"This may come as a shock, Abby, but I care about you, and seeing you like this," absently his palm waved, gesturing to the contemptible room, "makes me beyond sick." His words brimming with an acute harshness, coming straight from his heart and manifesting into words. "Before you succumb to the inertia of depression and find yourself too caught up in self-loathing to even lift an arrow ever again, let alone shoot one, remind yourself what I am about to tell you and if need be, carve it into your god damn arm if you have to: You are stronger than this."

The Gothic Knight clenched his fists, angry that Abigail had allowed herself to become this disgusting, pitiful and self-loathing reflection of her former self; is this how he had looked? Is this how the world had viewed him, just over a year ago? It was as though looking through a prism of clarity. Of truth, and it was alarming.

"I get it. Okay?"

His tone settled slightly, readjusted to the moment.

"You didn't just feel alone. You were alone. Everyone needs someone Abby. And trust me when I say this, I know what you're feeling. What you're going through."

In truth, Kurt has wished. Hoped, dreamed Abigail would have saved him from Mistress Sangria, saved him from the living nightmare. The memory flooding back almost brought a tear to his eye. In this moment, Kurt hoped he could be here for Abby like she was not for him, out of simple love for his once best friend. Nobody should have to face something like this alone. Not killing was one of Abigail's fundamental principles, understandably it had shattered her to break said principle.

"You're not alone anymore."

Kurt took a step forward, looking her in the eye still.

"I'm back."

@pyrogram:

His words slapped her face with an expression of incredulity, twisting it into a disbelieving scowl. She clenched her fists, fighting back-and-forth urges to lash out and to restrain herself. She had half a mind to take his threat seriously. There could easily be repercussions for such a thing. Her aches intensified and so did her breathing. Several moments of deep breaths to try and calm herself and she felt as if she'd calmed down enough to address him.

"Huh," she chuckled. "You never changed. Always...like a puppy. So much energy. Even at your worst, a frantic mess, and otherwise on top of the world. I wanted so much to have what you had. The smiles, the air of invulnerability. The guts, and the appreciation for the kinds of work we did. Even damaged, you managed to outshine us all. I guess...you feel enlightened, don't you? You've 'been through this,' you 'know what I'm feeling.' And you came out on the other side."

Turning, Abigail stood and faced him.

"Bullshit. Here's your newsflash. Sometimes suffering is just suffering. It's not some dark cloud where you just have to find he silver lining. It doesn't make you stronger. It doesn't build character. It just hurts." Her voice cracked a bit as she finished.

"I get it. I wasn't there for you. That must've hurt. We were both alone. And maybe you're not anymore, maybe you don't feel that way...but it's always been that way for me. You're on drugs, snorting your brain out; Kieran's family goes through a crisis; Kelly's in the hospital after an attack...I was never there. I never am. It's never a good time because I'm busy or feeling sorry for myself. It's no surprise then that there's no one around now. I ran all the way to Venezuela—toIvanafor advice! That's a new low." She started slowly for the bed, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. "Can you believe she actually gave it? I don't know if she actually wanted to help or she knew what she was doing to me all along." She spread her arms as if to say "who knows?"

"And now you wanna show up, the knight in shining armour?" Her words dripped with vitriolic sarcasm. "Now, after everything. Here to drag the broken heroine 'back to her senses,' hurt her for her own good. You think you've been there before so you can tell me how to live my life and it just takes a little tough love. You want me to be a tragic backdrop, so you can appear to be illuminated? So people can say, 'wow, isn't he so terribly brave and kind to love a girl so obviously miserable?' You want me to be the dark sky, so you can be the star? That's your next claim to fame? The return?"

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, her hands clasped in her lap. "You're not all wrong though. People rarely are. This I'm sure you know because I've seen you. Watch out for next time. Take care, putting yourself on so high a pedestal. When you're falling, terminal velocity can be a bitch.

"Maybe I was a little wrong. I thought you came here speaking deliberately to hurt me. Maybe you're not the only one who wants me to pick up a bow. But I can bet there's a healthy number right now who wouldn't mind if I never breathed again, let alone pick up a weapon. Who wish I'd never picked it up in the first place. And the generic 'you're stronger than this' tough love speech isn't gonna do it for you.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. You're back and that's great, I'm happy for you and I hope it goes well. But I'm not interested in trying to be a hero anymore. Not like anyone but you cares."

Jaysis, some CW-Level quality drama in this bitch o_o

Hahaha xD

@arquitenens:

Disregarding most of her words and putting it down to pure anger, sadness and just the pure feeling of uselessness, Kurt purposefully backed off a little to give her much needed space; however cautiously watching the heroine still the same. He did not truly know what type of woman Abigail had become, nor what the extent of the anger seeping through her mind would make her capable of. All he did know however, was that the two feelings of anger and immense sadness intermixed could trigger more than violent words.

But despite his compassion and supportive intentions, the Emerald Knight looked away from Abby with a prudent sigh. "Careful Abs, I'm the last friend you've got." It was no surprise that her words had hurt him slightly, they were sharper than his trion blades and more intense than his hottest flame.

"You know what? Maybe it's true that no one but me gives a shit about you."

His head kept down as she sat on the mattress, his eyes glanced side-ward at her. This time his own ire showing, ever so slightly. "But I sure as hell didn't come here to make myself feel better." He narrowed his eyes, not even sure how she'd contemplate such a thought.

"But maybe I did make a mistake." He said, turning and starring at the woman. "But the last time I checked, heroes try to help anyone. Including their friends." His temper grew, despite intentions. "But you wouldn't know about THAT. Would you? Playing leader of the League of Shadows, acting all big and mighty and then running away when it got tough!" Kurt raised his voice. "What the hell is wrong with you Abby? Why are you so intent on trying to feel alone? I'm here! Right in front of you god dammit. Running to Ivana? TO HER?!" Shaking his head in literal disgust for a multitude of reasons, Kurt walked closer to one of the walls as his metallic palm pressed upon it, leaving an indent. He stayed silent for a few seconds, almost like he wanted to cry or shout some more.

"Where did it all go so wrong..."

He said to himself, almost a whisper.

He's still got the metal arm? Hehee, nice.

@trinity-blue: Last time I checked.

I think...does he want me to kill Kurt? >_>

@hound_of_war: Psy told me about that scene. LOL! You couldn't resist posting that gif could you? :P

@pyrogram:

As much as he'd deliberately pissed her off - deliberately hurt her, Abigail wanted nothing more than to engage in an extended shouting match, and more. She wanted to hurt him, physically. Her body was weak now, but the capability remained within her to do damage as only a mutant could. Put him through the wall. Strangle him with his own beard. Teleport him somewhere else. Erase his memory and make him forget he ever knew her.

But, as much as she wanted to, she wasn't that girl. Abigail lacked the motivation. She didn't fire back in the vitriolic spirit with which they'd conducted themselves for most of their time together that night. She lacked the energy. Lacked the energy to justify herself or tell him how he was wrong. Lacked the energy to jab at his rhetoric and defend herself despite the fact that she hated herself. It wasn't worth saving face or protecting herself when she didn't even care.

She didn't look at him, didn't face him. Didn't threaten to call security or bill him for the damages; she could handle that thousands of times over and more. Pulling herself back by her hands, Abigail placed herself comfortably on the bed, laid back and stared at the ceiling. And when she spoke, she barely said two words to him; groaned, hardly above a whisper.

"Just...get out."

@arquitenens:

The Emerald Archer kept his palm pressed upon the damaged wall, sluggishly turning around and facing the now lying down Abigail as he practically snarled. "You wanted so much what I had? The smiles, the invulnerability? My guts?" The words spat out at nearly a thousand miles per hour. "I'm not invulnerable, Abby. I'm just a guy trying to survive the only way I know how." Taking out his ring as it glowed at the touch of his skin, he slowly slid it onto his finger and looked at the woman. "And if you think I'm so invulnerable, that's because you weren't there to see just how very vulnerable I was -- You know Charlemagne killed me right?" The metal of his arm was suddenly visible, the skin-colored illusion peeled away.

"I'm not the same man I once was."

The Project K pill brought back a memory of a better, more jovial time, one where Kurt had been training with Abby and fired a projection of green flames into the air, causing her to fleetingly hide before the two burst into laughter. A nice memory.

"But you can still trust me. And I'll be damned if I let you go through this alone," he paced over to a table and grabbed a piece of paper, manifesting a pen with green ink and he wrote down a few telephone numbers she could contact him on. Glancing back, he said one more thing.

"Not if, when you feel ready to pick up your bow -- Call me."

Kurt honestly believed Abigail had not given up entirely, maybe he wasn't the one able to help her this time, but he sure as hell wasn't going to abandon her either. Without another word the Pendragon went to leave, wondering what the future held.

I just got legit nostalgia sadness.

She still wants to maim him.

@arquitenens:

Walks away.

Hears you talking shit.

Turns around.

@pyrogram: I'll just call my brother.

@arquitenens: That'll help the situation.

@pyrogram: Tch! He'll kill you just like his daddy did!

@arquitenens: This is why you have no friends >.>

@pyrogram: That is a low blow. Way too far.

@arquitenens:

(My new favorite gif here)

@pyrogram: That's because you keep giving them so hard.

[I admit I was instantly fond of it. I just love how casual he looks!]