04 Return

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Re: Return

Post by Cleric » October 8th, 2012, 4:46 pm

Jon laid on the double bed, in one of the rooms on the second floor of the condo building. It was an odd feeling, being in one of them again. The first time, he had someone checking in on him every hour, while he was drying out.

He sat up on the edge, as he shook the thought away. He always tried to forget the past, as best he could. He scanned the room while thinking of something to do. It was nice having a cozy bed, working kitchen and bath, but he'd grown too accustomed to living in crappy hotels and abandoned buildings.

As he got up and headed to the open kitchen, his cell rang. He picked up, as he opened the fridge.


“It's Red. Think I got something for you.”

“Lay it on me,” said Jon, as he skimmed the fridge's contents. It was well stocked with food and beverage. Unfortunately, no root beer; the only beer Jon touched anymore.

“Ever hear of someone called Avalon?”

Jon almost dropped the phone, as he slammed the fridge door closed. “Say that again?”


“That's what I thought ya said,” Jon pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is definitely bad.”

“Why?”, asked Red. “What's so special about him.”

Her,” Jon corrected. “An assassin; a high-end deal that costs ya a real pretty penny.”

“How come I never heard of her? Before I retired, we had a bead on almost every known assassin.”

“That's 'cause she's good. If ya know the name, chances are ya won't be breathin' much longer.”

“Then how do you know her?”

“She used Cavetti as a middleman when she was doin' a job in Chicago, some years back; a job she did quite well, I might add. Why's she here? What's the job?”

“That, I can't tell you. All I got was the name, not the why.”

“More like who. If she's involved, someone's got a target on their head, right now.”

Jon paced the room, as he tried to think of a plan. The most likely target would be Joe, but given the staff and the students, there was no telling who the target could be. He looked out the window, as he continued to think.

The campus was large and wide open from various angles. Someone like Avalon would have no problem taking a shot from one of the neighboring buildings. For all he knew, she could be sitting atop one of the buildings on the campus, looking down at her target right now and that's if she was going to just shoot them. Car bombs, poison, gas; any of these could be possible. She could even just be waiting in the bushes, ready to wrap a metal cord around someone's neck.

Then it came to him. Not a perfect plan, but something to maybe buy some time.

“Ya still got yer hand in the cookie jar?” asked Jon.

“You know I do. How else do you think I got this much for you?”

“Get the word on the wire: The Cleric is lookin' for Avalon. She might not remember me, but hopefully, she at least remembers the name.”

“What good's that gonna do?”

“There's no such thing as a do-it-yourself assassin. Ya need supplies, ammo, clean guns, contacts of all sorts; the kind of contacts that keep an ear out, in case one of their valued customers brings trouble to their doorstep.”

“I can do it, but what if it takes a while to get to her?”

“Trust me, with someone like her involved, someone's listenin' for her name right now. Just keep it simple; not why I'm looking for her, not where I am; don't even refer to her as a woman. Make it look like ya think she's a lad. The only thing I want ya ta' slip is how ta' get in touch with me. After that, it shouldn't take long.”

Jon listened, as he heard the click-clack of a keyboard before Red came back. “Okay, it's done.”

“Good. Keep listenin' ta' the chatter, n' lemme know if anythin' else pops up I should know.”

“You got it,” said Red, before he hung up.

Jon took a deep breath and released a drawn-out sigh. He scratched his head, as he thought, “What the hell am I doin'? Why the hell ain't I callin' Joe, right now?”

He knew why. If Joe was the target, his phone might be tapped. Going to him might also be a bad move if Avalon has her eye on him. Sure, it could be a student or staff member, but there wasn't anything he could do about that, without knowing who the target was.

There was something else. A competitive thought that made him want to meet with Avalon: If push came to shove... who would win?

Jon shook that thought from his mind as well. The competitiveness was also a reminder of his past; who was the best killer in Chicago? No, he couldn't let this shake him up. He needed to be in his A game if he was going to be dealing with Avalon. After thinking it over, he grabbed his coat, exited the room and made his way to the cafeteria.

"If all hell breaks loose, I'm havin' me a root beer and a smoke."

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Re: Return

Post by Avalon » October 9th, 2012, 8:12 pm

The taxi pulled to the main building of the campus, Avalon handed the driver a fold of bills without a word. She exited the cab a black messenger back slung across her black t-shirt with 'Bat-man's' emblem in yellow splashed on it. Her plain boot cut blue jeans hung low over a pair of black running shoes. She looked completely generic even her hair was down to hide her face, the long blond locks looked like anyone else. Every bit of her she made sure to be un-noticeable. There are those that called assassins like Avalon, ghosts for a reason. They were able to move about without drawing attention, the way they carried themselves in every way was forgettable.

Avalon held onto the strap of the bag squeezing it gently occasionally as she walked about the campus. A small camera was silently snapping pictures of the campus' layout. Avalon liked to take her time with any job she accepted. One of her favorite parts of her profession has become to hunt, the preparation. Only one wild card currently existed; Laurell. It had been too long since they had seen each other; Laurell had left Avalon for dead in the hands of a very unfriendly black market art dealer. Laurell had interrupted Avalon in the middle of her hunt for the murderous Italian man. Laurell or Ice as she seemed to enjoy being called was after a few pieces of the man's collection. Instead of taking out the possible problem Laurell's unnerving knowledge of Avalon's profession and a reason for being there, Avalon had simply suggested they stay out of one another's way. Instead of Laurell taking the suggestion, Laurell had outed Avalon to the collector. While the man and his muscle ganged up on her and finally captured Avalon, Laurell had cleaned out the man without interruption. Avalon however, was beaten to hell it was awfully difficult to dodge fists and knives when tied down and surrounded by so many brutes. Eventually, Avalon had gotten loose and massacred the lot of them. The question this time was when to take out Laurell, not if, and all without giving up her marks.

Avalon came to the building where she had watched Ice enter and not leave from while she had watched. Avalon found a bench beneath a tree she pulled her legs up under her setting the bag down beside her like so many other people were sprawled out over the campus she pulled out an iPod and a book. Turning the pages slowly, her eyes careful to not leave the pages as she observed her surroundings. Just as she had settled down and moved her finger across her iPod's flat screen looking at the specially programmed messaging system. The decoding program went to work on the encrypted file. Her blue eyes read the short message slowly, Cleric. She remembered that name; some small time hit man. Requested speaking to her.

Avalon's smile that came across her pink lips was one that would strike fear into anyone facing her; but this, this was a smile of delight. This mark was turning out to be very entertaining. Packing up her things Avalon took a different way to the main building, placing the small camera's Sim card in her jeans pocket, dumping the bag that held only a book. Her iPod was blaring in her ears as she walked away from the campus smiling all the while; soon she would get to have some fun. And, taking out Laurell after meeting with this small timer, Avalon would make this time with Laurell up close and personal.

Maybe it was time to start some college classes...

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Re: Return

Post by Cleric » October 17th, 2012, 6:13 pm


John sat at the table in the cafeteria, as he guzzled down two bottles of his root beer. He abstained from smoking; not wanting to disturb the student, but especially not wanting to piss off Joe. As he finished the second bottle, his phone rang.

“Hey, Red,” he answered.

“Got a response from Avalon. Says she's willing to meet with you.”

Jon felt his body tense, as he asked, “Where?”


The jukebox played the rock music loud enough to drown out the clanking of the pool balls as Avalon broke them for a friendly game against......herself. The information that this small timer was looking for her was odd. It was not the first time Avalon had been approached by someone else in the game; it was however extremely rare someone would have the guts to make requests of her without a substantial fee.

Curiosity had pushed her to find out what this one wanted as well as how he would have known she was here. Her current employer was new to this game and if he had a big mouth that would have to be taken care of if she was to obtain her extremely large payout. Her clothes were comfortable and allowed for ease of movement. The light jacket she wore over a plain t-shirt was there for necessity more than fashion. Avalon was never unarmed. Her blue eyes scanned the room quickly before taking in the layout of the pool balls. Leaning down to put the two ball into the far corner pocket her Sig Sauer .45mm 1911 pistol showed the butt of the grip just under her arm.

Jon pulled into the parking lot and shut off his Camaro. He looked at the bar and sighed. He still wasn't sure why he was being so bold. Sure, he could literally take a bullet to the face, but this wasn't some back alley punk with a peashooter. Grabbing his coat from the backseat, he headed for the entrance; making sure to tuck his .45's in the back of his jeans. He didn't want a shootout, but better to be safe than sorry.

Once he entered the room, his eyes quickly began scouring the room. The place wasn't packed, but there were enough patrons for a topnotch assassin to mingle in. There was one exception; a lone woman playing pool. His eyes almost began to continue their search, before he caught a glimpse of the gun under her arm.

“Doubt this pub's hostin' an NRA convention,” Jon said to himself, as he carefully made his way over.

He cleared his throat, as he asked, “Playin' by ourselves? Are ya waitin' on someone?”

Avalon's blue eyes looked up at him without moving her head, or body from the position she was in to shoot the next ball. The control it takes to stand so still a person could be mistaken for a statue ready pounce was hard earned with years of training.

"I don't play well with others." Her voice was empty of emotion, just like her eyes. She stood up and looked him up a down slowly taking in the possible threat.

“I understand the feelin',” he smiled. This was definitely her. He could tell just by the look in her eyes.

“I got yer message,” he held the fake smile. “Don't know how ya found where I was. Guess yer as good as they say ya are.”

"Better." Avalon backed away from the table and grabbed a short glass filled with ice and a thick, clear, foul-smelling substance.

“I bet,” said Jon, as he circled the pool table; making sure to keep his distance. “So, tell me: What brings someone like yer'self to a place like this? Surely not the scenery.”

Avalon shot him that smile of hers that promises very bad things to come. "I used to be told not to mix business and pleasure. But as it seems; that is exactly what I am doing here. Why, may I ask, have you sought me out?"

Placing the glass back down to the bar top then moved back to the table a slight bulge against the outside of both of her arms was barely distinguishable and the hidden bulge ran the length of her forearms.

“Pal o' mine heard ya were doin' a job at the campus,” Jon answered. To an onlooker, this might appear to be an attempt at a pickup. For Jon, this was a chess game from hell; and he was terrible at chess. “Truth be told, I be a tad curious to see what kinda person could warrant yer attention.”

"Who are you trying to protect?" It was easy enough to tell after having heard that she was here he had tried to get a hold of her. And now was fishing for details. Avalon stood within inches to the man, the pool stick held in front of her body vertically with both hands, prepared to use the commonplace object to her advantage if the need arose. The close proximity she insisted upon was for appearances and allows for a quieter conversation; the fewer people overhearing this strange exchange the better.

“Guess that's why yer the professional,” his smile faded, as he felt his fingers twitch. “Who's not important. That campus be like a second home to me, n' let's just say I don't like trespassers.”

Jon was feeling a little bolder now. Hopefully, it wouldn't go to his head.

"Don't be a hero, Cleric, it doesn't look good for our kinds reputations." Avalon gave him her back as she bent at the hip to line up another shot keeping up the appearances. She leaned the stick against the table standing to face him again she up her petite hand against his cheek. "And, it would be such a waste to have you get in my way." Her head tilted to the side letting the length of her blonde hair fall to one side her motions were flirtatious all the while her eyes still all business and the kind of cold only true sociopaths were granted.

Jon felt his heart skip; expecting her to make a move when she touched his cheek. She really was good at this kind of chess.

“Trust me, I'd rather not have ta' get in yer way, but I can't let ya hurt anyone on that campus.”

Avalon raised her other arm up and rested both hands on his shoulders and rose up so she could whisper in his ear. "You won't be able to stop me." She kissed him lightly on the cheek and backed away to her drink to swallow it down. Avalon plastered a fake smile on her face, "I'll see you around, Cleric." Avalon turned on her heel and walked slowly toward the exit of the bar.

Jon moved his hand behind him. He pondered trying to shoot her in the back. He could afford to be sloppy; she was the professional, not him. He could end it right here and now; protect whoever it is she's after. Jon sighed, as he went from his gun to his pocket. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. He wasn't one to put a bullet in someone's back. Even he wasn't that spineless.

“Guess I'll see ya around then,” he called to her, as he lit up. “Real soon, I hope.”

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Re: Return

Post by Double Fire » October 20th, 2012, 11:27 pm

OOC JP with Ice

Fresh from a shower Mandy hefted her gym bag on her shoulder as she left the locker room. From the exterior side pocket, her cell phone chirped with the reminder noise. She saw the time first- 3:15. “Oh, crap.” She checked her messages as she rushed across the parking lot. She saw the one from Ice. “Where are you? Need a tour guide.”

At her Jeep, she dropped her bag onto the passenger seat and slipped in behind the wheel. She paused for just a moment to respond to the text. “Running late, sorry, meet me in front of the main building. Be there in 2 minutes- DF”

Backing out of the slot she squealed the tires as she pulled out of the parking lot of the training center. She was late and she didn't like being late- even if there was a good reason. Her cell phone rang again. She stopped at the crossing to answer. “Hey, Mom, what’s up?”

“You’re brother is home from the service. Is there any chance you can join us while he’s here?”

Many checked her watch, waited for the cluster of students to cross in front of her. “I just got a new trainer so unless you guys come to me I can’t promise anything until Saturday unless something happens.”

“Saturday will be perfect; he’s bringing his fiancée to meet the family then.”

Mandy laughed as she drove on. “You’re going to love her. I’ve met her a few times, she’s a great gal. Mom, I have to go, duty calls.”

“All right, we’ll see you on Saturday. Love you.”

“Love you too Mom, same to Dad and the guys.” She pulled up to the front curb of the condo building and parked.

Ice lifted up her phone from the table seeing Mandy was on her way. Her ice blue eyes glanced over to the now completely thawed couch the water soaking into every towel she could locate in Mandy's bathroom. Hoping against hope it wouldn't ruin the floor. She reached for her small back and pulled out a fresh shirt and her only clean pair of bottoms.

Leaving the condo with key card in hand dressed in summer clothes for the wonderfully cold weather. The black tank top clung to her and barely reached the top of the cut off worn-out jean shorts. Ice was excited to finally get to hang out with her friend, and maybe start moving toward a life that wasn't so... illegal.

She stood outside the building enjoying the sixty-degree weather; the kids that were walking around outside in their long sleeves and light sweaters stared at her attire and blue tint like an alien. Ice was used to the attention and embraced it. She tapped her sneakered foot checking her phone for the time, and glancing at all the faces that passed by her for Mandy.

Seeing her, Mandy drove away from the curb. She looped back around and pulled up in front of her friend. She hefted her bag into the back seat and then leaned over to pop open the door. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Ice reached forward and caught the door of the Jeep and hoped in. The temperature was a little warmer than her liking; but, definitely not too dangerous levels for her.

"How much do you like your couch?" Ice asked quietly, needing to inform her friend of the accident and hoping the possibly ruined piece of furniture wouldn't make Mandy angry. Ice slammed the door to the Jeep shut and leaned back into the seat her arms crossed over her chest.

“It’s a second-hand piece. Don’t worry about it.” She glanced at Ice with suspicion then looked ahead. “So, what’s our destination?”

Ice looked at her friend and down again. "I just," sighing she continued, "I need something to do with myself. I want to feel useful again."

“I know exactly what you need.” Mandy smiled as she put her Jeep in drive.

Twenty minutes later she pulled in to the parking lot of Daunte’s and found a slot near the front door. As usual, the lot was half full at this hour. There were two squad cars, several motorcycles, and a few civilian cars.

“What you need is a night away from the issues.” Mandy reached into the back seat to retrieve her wallet from her gym bag. ”Come on; let’s see if you can still beat me at pool. We can work on the rest tomorrow.”

Ice looked at her friend and just smiled that frozen face almost seemed to crack with the change in her usual empty expression. Mandy had always had this effect on her; that is why Ice adored her friend. Ice opened the door and stepped out of Mandy's Jeep into the sweet comfort of the cold autumn night.

"Bring it on, if the pool tables are full we can see if the bikers and cops can ice skate." Ice stated laughter in the back of her voice. It was by far one of her favorite pranks. No one would get hurt, and she could sit back and watch the funny unfold.

Mandy laughed as she pulled open the front door. She waved with a smile to a small group of guys at two tables pushed together. There was a nod exchanged with the police sergeant, and one soldier raised his stain to her.

“Wow, you’re popular.” Ice said.

“I know them from family and here.” At the pool table, Mandy racked the balls and let ice break them.

She ordered a bottle-bucket of Warsteiner Verum for them along with an appetizer tray for them to munch on. Watching Ice take her shot, it seemed so normal. For the first time in a long time, she was able to push her own issues to the background. That was her façade, being able to hide her own problems with the guise of a smile and helping others to set theirs aside. She would deal with her own problems when she had the time.

As she got up from the counter-height table to make her shot, Mandy’s cell phone chirped with the chime set for text messages. She looked at the screen, rolled her eyes, and turned off the phone. Sliding it back into her pocket, she lined up to make her shot. She struck the cue ball bouncing it off the 8 and striking the 5. The orange ball dropped into the corner pocket followed by the cue ball. Grasping the pool stick, Mandy crouched down with angst and grief and yet she laughed. She didn’t think of herself as competitive but she didn’t like losing either or making mistakes.
Amanda Lynn Matchall
aka Mandy
security class: PSI- 4

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Re: Return

Post by Avalon » October 25th, 2012, 8:52 pm

Ice hadn’t had such a simple and wonderful time in so many years; this time out with Mandy was stress and drama free exactly how she was hoping to keep her life from now on. The pool balls clanged against each other as her friend made another great shot, putting Ice’s rusty skills to shame.

“Lucky shot,” Ice said reaching out to grab her bottle of Budweiser frosting the glass to perfection; one should never drink warm beer.

“No, I have skills!” Mandy called back to her friend as she bent over to elegantly put yet another striped ball into the corner pocket.

“While you are cleaning off the table, I have got to take a piss,” I said walking by her friend and toward the bathroom, she had now frequented this evening. The only bad thing about drinking, she got very familiar with the bar’s dirty facilities. For once the restroom was line free and peacefully empty, the music blaring in the bar was muted in the room. Thankful for the silence she took her time washing her hands with as warm water as she could handle without scorching her skin.

The door swung open and closed quickly, Ice didn’t even bother to look into the mirror to see who had just entered until the deadbolt on the door clicked. Avalon stared at Ice’s blue-white eyes reflected in the mirror now wide with the shock of seeing Avalon alive and here. Avalon leaned against the door a large, silver blade held delicately firmly under control down by her side.

“Still alive thief?” Avalon asked Ice. The assassins voice dripping with contempt for the only other person in the room.

“How did you get away?” Ice asked carefully; knowing exactly what this woman was capable of she was extremely careful not to make any quick decisions.

“I am good at what I do, Laurell.” Avalon sneered a smile crossed her perfectly formed pink lips. “I think we need to go, play, Laurell.” Avalon refused to use Ice’s adopted name as a show of power she had over the cold-blooded woman.

Ice made a quick move for the door dropping the surface temperature of her body as low and as quickly as possible. That way if Avalon attempted to grab her with bare skin the cold would burn just like fire. Avalon had already seen the movement moments before Ice had taken her first step. Reaching from Ice’s midsection covered by the small tank top took some of the bite, the large knife came up to slice like butter through the forearm that had reached to unbolt the door.

Music blaring on the other side of the door hid the frustrated and angry yell that came from Ice’s blue lips. Ice’s other hand bunched into a fist and plowed it toward Avalon’s pretty face. She had fully intended to punch through her head and against the wall. Avalon very easily tilted her head just right to allow the cold fist to miss its mark the cold breeze from the movement flushed Avalon’s pale cheek.

Avalon’s motions were fluid, always knowing where Ice’s next attempt would land. She moved gracefully, not like the clumsy attacks of Ice who wasn’t nearly as well trained in combat. The two women were dancing in the small space Ice would push a fist or foot forward attempting to disarm the assassin; every move was a failure. Avalon had the blade flush against her forearm using the blade to deflect and slice Ice’s hands, arms, and legs.

There was blood spilled all over the floor and walls of the small space. Avalon hated leaving behind evidence; however, this could definitely play to her hands; time to end this play date. Using the hilt of the blade Avalon slammed it against Ice’s temple knocking the woman unconscious. While Ice’s unmoving body slumped to the floor the assassin’s quick eyes took in the room for a way to remove her as she was. Avalon had had no intention to have to lug dead weight out of the bar but the idea of taking out one problem all the while enticing the hero to her was just too good an opportunity to pass up.

In the corner was a huge trash can with a heavy duty black bag in it. Avalon upended the container the dirty things from the ladies room falling all over the floor; she stuffed Ice into the black bag, tied the ends and opened the door. She took the bag over to the small window against the wall; broke the glass with her knife and stuffed the bag through. Avalon turned leaving the floor bloody and covered with paper towels, and other nastiness.

Eyeing Double Fire for any suspicion while the woman played the pool game Avalon slowly, and calmly left the establishment to load up the old lady’s ‘borrowed’ car. Now, how long would it take for Cleric to find out about the missing person and lead the psionics right to her?

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Re: Return

Post by Cleric » October 28th, 2012, 10:03 pm

Jon had left the bar and drove toward Sally's Place. The other bar was fine, but he could think more clearly with familiar surroundings – and he needed plenty to think about. His meeting with Avalon was intense, but even though she was in control of the conversation most of the time, he was able to glean a small bit of insight: Joe Pierce wasn't her target.

She had asked him who it was he was trying to protect, though Joe was the most obvious target. The fact that she didn't bring up his name outright told Jon her target was someone else... at least, it was a strong possibility.

“Better safe than sorry,” said Jon, as he dug out his cellphone and called Red.

“So, you're still alive,” Red answered. “How'd your meetin' go?”

“It went. She's as intimidatin' as I remember. I got a hunch though; that maybe she ain't here for who I thought.”

“Who she there for then?”

“Damned if I know. I need to be sure before I let go of this n' end up lettin' the wrong person gets killed.”

“Okay, what do you want from me?”

“I need ya ta' dig deeper into Avalon's contract. I need ta' know who hired her n' just exactly who her target is n' I need ya ta' keep this one as hush as possible. She knows why I'm here now, so she may have her contacts lookin' out for anything ta' crop up.”

“You forget who you're talkin' to?”

“I'm serious. The more time passes, the more everythin' feels uneasy. Do this n' I'll add a little somethin' extra to the next payment.”

“For all this digging around I've been doing, you're damn right you're giving me something extra; and I expect it to be a helluva something extra.”

“Thanks. I'll be waitin' for yer call,” said Jon, before he hung up.

He finally reached Sally's, as he turned into the parking lot and parked his car. He was about to step out when his gaze caught something completely unexpected: Avalon stuffing a garbage bag into a car.

“What the bloody hell?” he exclaimed, as he ducked his head; staring between the dash and the steering wheel. Luck had definitely shined upon him. All he had to do was keep himself hidden and tail her back to wherever it is she was holed up.

“What's in the bag?” he spoke aloud. “Definitely not grass trimmin's.”

It was then he noticed spatters of blood on her clothing and realized there may be a dead body in the bag. He grabbed one of his guns and was ready to start shooting, but held himself back. It was too late. Whoever it was inside was dead and starting a shootout wouldn't bring whoever it was back. No, he'd follow his plan and tail her once she left.

He'd made up his mind. Avalon may have gotten away with this one, but that's where it would stop. Though he wanted to avoid it, a showdown between him and Avalon was sure to come. He hoped luck would be on his side again and she would think him nothing more than a low-rent hitman. If she didn't know he was psionic, he might be able to surprise here.

He continued to wait; seeing what her next move was going to be.

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Re: Return

Post by Double Fire » October 29th, 2012, 12:20 am

Standing at the counter height table they were using, Mandy cleaned up the mess. She turned the empty beer bottles upside down in the bucket and stacked the plates to help the server. As the waitress walked away with full arms Mandy checked her cell phone for the time. She sent Ice a text message. ‘Did you get lost?”

Over the music, she heard a woman scream in panic. She moved quickly, meeting up with the police officers at the alcove that led to the restrooms. A woman in distress was leaned back against the wall. One of the soldiers took to the task of trying to calm her and move her out of the way.

Mandy was granted access to the ladies room. Inside, she cupped her hand over her mouth in shock from the scene. Blood was everywhere. The trashcan was emptied with its contents scattered.

One of the police officers joined her, stepping to her side. “I’ve called it in. We need to secure the scene.”

“Thank you, sergeant,” Shocked by the site, she forced herself to nod. She turned out of the room and approached the bar. The music had been stopped. And patrons waited in silence. Mandy sat on one of the bar stool. She looked to Sally and saw the concern on the woman’s face. “Ice was in there.”

“Oh no,” Sally patted her hand and then gripped gently. “Stay right here, I’m going to make a phone call.” Leaving a glass of water on the bar, Sally stepped into the kitchen.

East Coast Campus

In the Labs Building, Eddie sat on a stool in his lab. He reviewed the contents of the project logs as more pages printed out. With a yellow hi-liter, he marked several points to reference. Humming to himself, he tapped the eraser end of his mechanical pencil on the counter. “Fascinating, this is incredible,” He mumbled. “Mona, would you please schedule a video conference with Doctor Baylen, I’d like to speak with her regarding the AVPs.”

“Have my children done something wrong?” The AI asked.

With a smirk, Eddie chuckled. “No, although I am concerned about Macy. I think her recent developments should be investigated.”

“Oh dear, that one, all right I’ll schedule the conference.”

“Thank you.” The chime of his phone came from under the mess on his desk. He hopped off the stool and stepped across the room. Retrieving his phone, he noticed the name on the call-screen ‘Sally’s Place’. “This is Doctor Phosphor, can I help you?”

“Vortex, this is Sally can you send someone over there’s been an incident? And Double Fire is in no condition to drive home.”

“It’s not like her to drink too much.” Eddie mused aloud.

“Vortex, I’m detecting commotion on the emergency frequency.” Mona interrupted.

“Just a moment Sally,” Eddie pressed the mute button on his phone. “What was that Mona?”

“The police have been dispatched to Sally’s Place.”

“Thanks,” Eddie returned his focus on the phone call. “Sally, I’m on my way I just need to grab an extra person and we’ll be there.”

“Thank you, I’ll keep her here.”

He could hear the sigh of relief on the other end. “See you soon.” He ended the call. Picking up his brown leather jacket, he removed a bulky set of keys from the side pocket. “Mona, keep monitoring for anything related to this incident. And close out those files once they’re done with printing.”

“Will do Doctor Phosphor,” Mona replied.

As he left his lab Eddie used his cell phone again.

“This is Torque, make it fast.” His sister answered.

“You haven’t left yet, have you?” He reached the elevator just as the doors closed. Seeing the numbers climb he opted to take the stairs.

“No, there’s been a delay- what’s up?”

“Something’s happened at Sally’s Place. I don’t have the details yet. Meet me outside the Labs Building.”

“I’ll be there in two.” She promised and hung up.

Outside, Eddie burst from the main door and rushed down the steps as Torque pulled up to the curb on her motorcycle. She handed him a helmet as he mounted the seat behind her. Revving the engine, she pulled out of the parking lot in a hurry.

Sally’s Place

Torque rode into the front parking lot and chose the slot beside Mandy’s Jeep. She took notice of the vehicles collected with their lights running. There were multiple police cars, several CSI units, and a handful of civilian cars.

She shut off the engine and waited for Vortex to dismount. When she pulled off her helmet her blonde strands fell down her shoulders. She flashed a playful smile to the officers who looked their way. “That’s too easy.”

“Oh stop it,” Eddie chided her as he handed her his helmet. “Let’s go.”

Inside they found Mandy still at the bar. She stared into the glass of water as the ice melted fast.

Torque approached and rapped a knuckle on the bar top. “Nice trick. I bet you’re a blast at parties.”

“Huh?” Mandy looked up at her and then back to the glass. She took a slow deep breath.

“Thanks for coming; I don’t know if I can deal with this- not this soon.”

Torque kept her attention on her partner. “Have you been cleared to leave?”

“Yeah, they’ve got my info.” Mandy picked up the glass and down the water.

“Good,” Torque held out her hand. “Why don’t you let me drive?”

From her hip, Mandy unclipped the set of keys and dropped them into Torque’s hand. “Not a problem.”

“I’ll see you two back on campus; I want to speak with the officer in charge.” Eddie pulled out his credential fold and stepped away.

“C’mon partner,” Torque nudged Mandy with her shoulder. “Let’s get you back to headquarters.”

Mandy was sober enough to walk on her own. They made it out to the parking lot and her Jeep. There, she became dizzy and leaned on it for balance.

“It seems like you had just a tad too much fun.” Torque quipped.

“It’s not a habit though.” Mandy rubbed her hand over her face. She looked around at their surroundings, the vehicles gathered, and officers working crowd control.

OOC - I don’t know if you guys are in the front or back of the building- I’m assuming the back. All of the vehicles I’ve mentioned so far are in the front parking lot.
Amanda Lynn Matchall
aka Mandy
security class: PSI- 4

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Re: Return

Post by Ice » October 30th, 2012, 6:16 pm

OOC: J/P Ice and Avalon

Ice’s body was restricted, curled tight into a ball surrounded by plastic making it extremely difficult to breathe with ease. She was being bumped around by what could only be a bag. That bitch had cut her, and now kidnapped her; why hadn’t she just f*cking killed her?! Stretching out and pushing her limbs against the plastic feeling for the natural opening. In the darkness of the bag, she was blind and didn’t feel any give just that it was stretching and thinning as the plastic was tested. Star-bursts of light were exploding in front of her eyes. The pain that pounded from her temple echoed around her head making her movements and attempts at releasing herself slow and painful.

In an attempt to make this easier on herself, Ice, lay as still as possible being bounced around in the trunk of a vehicle. Concentrating she felt the cold within herself. It was that comfortable place where happiness, fear, guilt, and any possible emotion was frozen out; a place of complete stillness. Letting go of inhibition and allowing the emotionless creature that her early years had created to possess her; the cold flowed out easily without thought or feeling. Ignoring the natural pain in her head Ice pushed against the cold plastic, gathering the excess up in her injured hands as she pulled her legs back up against her chest. With the bottom of the bag tight she pressed her feet out again as hard as she could, watching as the plastic went from black to a stressed light gray. Making her motion again this time as she pushed the plastic easily gave way. Ice pulled the bag away and sucked the created cold air of the trunk into her nearly starved lungs. Her head swam with lights spinning before her eyes. Ice prayed to hold onto consciousness a while longer.

Ice was no longer an empty husk as her cold blue eyes looked around the car, and felt the blood frosted to her dead looking complexion; she was pissed. Squeezing her back against the rear of the trunk she began kicking against what must have been the back seats of a car. Breathe in, breathe out and visualize kicking through the seats; her feet hurt from hitting the seat that’s what she got from wearing flip-flops everywhere. But, how would she have guessed some crazy assassin would attack her than kidnap her.

“Chill-out, Bitch!” Avalon yelled from within the vehicle. Ice heard the silenced shot before the bullet made contact with the bench seat beneath her feet. It traveled through the cushion to graze her arm stopping at the metal of the trunk. The bullet could not have been a heavy caliber, after Avalon’s obvious emotional state creating the huge mistake of taking her from the well populated bar. The assassin had still remembered not to use a heavier millimeter weapon in the vehicle so the bullet would not escape the confines of the vehicle.

“What the hell do you think you are doing, Avalon?!” Ice yelled back to her, beginning to feel the weakness that came with multiple injuries.

“Mixing business with pleasure you back-stabbing, unprofessional, freak.” Avalon’s voice had calmed, Ice could almost visualize the model-like face with that otherworldly smile setting upon it. Avalon added, “You’re the unexpected bonus Laurell.”

Avalon was driving calmly, but quickly well aware of Cleric’s decision and sure that he was back there, somewhere. She may not be sure where, but knowing the small timer was there was perfect. One less person in her way for the next bit. Avalon made her way out of town and into the industrial parks, not too much further. She had checked the place out a few nights in a row; a cake factory complete with an oven that was as large as a warehouse. Granted her idea was a bad punch line right out of a Bond movie but it would work for its purposes.

Ice had stayed still, not so much worried about Avalon’s pleasure, but more what her business was. So Ice had no intention of running for it until she could figure out what the hell was going on. Ice could feel there was more stuff in the trunk with her but wasn’t sure what it all was. She wanted to feel around but one could never be completely sure what could be found in a professional assassin’s trunk. The car began to bump around a little bit more, where ever Avalon had taken Ice, it wasn’t a well cared for road.

Avalon knew the place was shutting down, the only person in or out for the past few nights was a stout rent-a-cop with a bad comb-over. Staking the place out she knew it hadn’t been disassembled yet, perfect torture for a psionic with too cold a body temperature. As the car approached the factory she shut the lights off driving slowly eyeing the lit up windows of the security office. The place was old, and never installed cameras. She drove slowly around the back of the factory looking at the clock on the car. It would be another two hours before the poor security guard would make another round he would be too busy watching the poor man's soap opera, professional wrestling. She parked the car so it would be easily seen. She stuck a white flag in the driver’s side door and opened the back door to gather her things. Avalon had two .45 mm under either arm, a small .22 tucked at the small of her back, and a black riding pack strapped tight to her bag weighed down enough to definitely have something in there.

Ice felt the vehicle stop and heard Avalon rummaging through the back seat, “Come on Avalon, what the heck are you doing here; going after anyone from the Consortium is suicide.”

Avalon didn’t answer; just walked around the back of the car a suppressed 9mm compact Springfield semi-automatic in her now gloved hand. Avalon’s skin was covered head to toe in black, more for safety purposes while handling Laurell than to be stealthy. Avalon placed the key in the trunk lock and held her pistol at the ready when the trunk flew open. Ice looked up at her from her scrunched up position feet against the front of the trunk.

“Get out, thief,” Avalon really used that word with such disdain; seeing herself as better than a thief.

“Make me.” Ice said, her arms crossed over her chest, the blood from her wounds not flowing frozen like all of the ice crystals collecting on her freezing skin.

Avalon reached her free hand into a side pocket of her loose pants and pulled out a taser. Lifting it up so Ice could watch as the electricity arced when she pressed the button.

“Get out,” Avalon demanded.

Again, Ice refused with a nod of her head. Avalon smiled; evil leaked out of her black soul when she did that. Without a word she shoved the taser forward in a blur and forced into Laurell’s mouth and into the woman’s throat tapping on the button.

Laurell tried to scream when even the millisecond the taser’s electric heat had assaulted her but was unable to make more than a muted mumble with the object pressed into her mouth and near back her throat.

Avalon pulled the object out before the traitorous thief could vomit all over her, “Get out, or it will be longer next time.” Avalon watched as little white clouds of white came from between Ice’s blue lips as the woman lifted herself slowly, painfully out of the trunk.

“You left me for dead, Laurell, time to repay the favor.”

The taser was pressed against Ice’s back, trying to stay vertical and move forward was proving extremely difficult. Her head was spinning, nausea was pressing against her stomach forcing her to hunch over, the defensive cuts on her limbs were clotting nicely with the aid of the cold temperatures the blood was faced with but they hurt. The worst of all was the fresh burns at the back of her mouth knowing it would be extremely painful to make a sound now. Ice dragged her body across the small parking lot.

When they reached the back loading dock Avalon forced Ice up the five cement stairs and to the already ajar door. That guard was worthless. Forcing her weak victim toward the next door that would bring them into the oven, Ice fell to her knees body giving out. Avalon scoffed and grabbed the other woman’s hair; pulling her to the other room.

Ice wasn’t able to make a peep; the damn taser must have done some serious damage. The feeling of being dragged by her hair was like her entire scalp was going to be ripped from her head. Ice reached up and tried the scratch and claw at Avalon’s gloved hand her weakness was making it near impossible to concentrate enough to force the cold into her assailant’s body.

Before entering the main oven room, Avalon pressed the large switch on the huge control box up and heard the sleeping machinery roar to life. Avalon pushed open the heavy metal door; the oven must be in good working order for the heat to be building already. Avalon closed the door behind her sliding a pin into the handle that would pull it to act as a lock. Avalon’s booted foot kicked Ice in the head tired of the woman’s feeble attempts to release herself.

The booted foot pushed all the pain and exhaustion away as Ice slumped down unconscious again.

This oven was made on an entire factory floor to bake hundreds of cakes at once. The coils were heating up quickly. There was a conveyor belt that ran from the floor and curved around from one end of the room to another and around to go up five more levels only to lead out through a five-foot by two-foot window near the ceiling to another room.

Avalon reached into her pack and pulled out a pack of zip ties, and smiled again. Avalon quickly tied Laurell’s limp body to the conveyor, already watching the woman beginning to sweat, redness gathering on the once blue complexion. Avalon smiled knowing it would only get hotter in here. For Laurell, it could be deadly…. Before anything interesting happened, there was more work to be done, Avalon left out the opposite door heading for the smoking pavilion near the front of the building, and from there she would jog to the hidden motorcycle waiting in a full factory parking lot only two blocks away.
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Re: Return

Post by Cleric » October 31st, 2012, 3:17 am

Jon had followed Avalon out of town after she left the bar. He wasn't too far from Sally's when he heard sirens in the distance. No doubt, the result of whatever Avalon had done. He could feel his ire rise. Sally's was a sanctuary of sorts and she had marred it.

“I shoulda' shot her when I had the chance,” he sighed, as he continued tailing the car.

He'd kept his distance – parking his car behind a large hill when he saw her enter the trail for a factory; a cake factory at that. He exited his car and adorned his thick leather coat, after sticking his .45's in the back of his pants.

As quickly as he could, Jon ran from around the hill and headed for Avalon's car. He noticed the trunk was open and used it as cover when he finally reached it. He was about to move on when he noticed something odd within the trunk; bits of melting ice crystals with what looked like blood in them. He cautiously eased around the driver's side, as he drew one of his guns. He could see a light on in a window. Before moving on, something, again, caught his eye. Sticking in the driver-side door was a white flag. He lifted his head and scanned the interior. After being sure there were no traps, he gently opened the door and took the flag. It was a simple flag; no special marks or identifying colors.

“Guess it's too much ta' hope this be a sign o' surrender,” he said, as he tucked it into his inner coat pocket.

He made his way into the factory and slunk up some stairs toward the lit room. He saw a door with a window: SECURITY painted on the glass. He knelt beside the door, against the wall, as he listened carefully.

“Do it!” yelled a man's voice. “Do it and you'll pay!”

“Dammit,” Jon growled, as he whipped the door open and aimed his gun... at a short security guard with his hands in the air, standing next to a TV with a mini-cooler beside it. On the screen, a man with a painted face was daring a bald man with a head tattoo to punch him in the face, while an audience cheered and booed them.

Jon looked at the scared guard and couldn't help but give him an awkward smile. “Uh... this is a tad embarrassin'.”

“I ain't got anything worth stealing,” said the guard. “I'm barely getting paid minimum for watching this place.”

“No need to worry,” Jon tried to ease him, as he lowered his gun. “I was just lookin' for a woman with-”

Jon was cut short, as the guard charged him and landed a punch across his face; surprising him into dropping his gun. Jon shook off the punch, as he was greeted by another; followed by a flurry of blind jabs and wild swings.

“Calm down fella',” Jon tried to say, as he allowed the guard to hit him; mildly irked by the punches. “I – ow – I'm not gonna – dammit – will ya just – be a pal – come on and – hey! – watch it!”

Tired of bothering, Jon waited for an opening and grabbed the guard by his wrists. He pulled the guard toward him, as he butted him in the head; knocking him unconscious. Jon kept hold of his wrists, as he gently set him down.

“Sorry 'bout that,” apologized Jon, as he picked up his gun. He exited the room and looked for any other signs of life. He knew Avalon came in here and definitely had that bag... that was it: the bag. If the ovens were still working, an old cake factory would be good for getting rid of evidence; especially if that evidence used to be a living/breathing person.

Jon tread deeper into the factory and soon enough felt it getting hotter the closer he got to the center. He came to a metal door with heat emanating from it. He tried to push it open, but it wouldn't budge. Avalon had to be on the other side; disposing of her garbage.

Jon tried enhancing his strength with kinetic energy, but it still wouldn't open; the energy from being shot in Jersey had dissipated and the feeble beating from the guard gave him nothing. He darted around; looking for something to give him a “charge”. It was then, he noticed an industrial hook chained to a rafter, as it dangled from the ceiling... then he saw the lever to release it.

He sighed, dejected, as he walked to the lever. With a heavy breath, he aligned himself with the hook's trajectory, before he yanked the lever. A clack echoed, as the chain released and the hook swung across the room.

As it neared, he lifted his chin, as he said, “This is gonna hurt!”

The side of the hook railed him in the face; knocking him hard onto the ground. He was out for a brief moment before his eyes opened and the pain set in.

“Bloody hell,” he groaned, as he wobbled to his feet.

He held his head and waited for the double-vision to fade, before trying the door again. He gripped it tight and began to pull. The veins in his forearm began to plump with effort; as well as give off a faint red glow. Something on the other end began to creak, as the door slowly inched it's way open. With the sound of a metallic snap, the door was flung open, as a buffet of heat washed over him.

He drew both guns, as he entered the room. Ovens bellowed fire, as leather and metal belts carried nothing but empty space across the production floor. Keeping his arms slowly swaying back and forth, he walked further in. There was no sign of Avalon. It was very possible, between the guard and getting hit by the hook, she could have heard the noise and ran off or – most likely – was waiting to ambush him.

As he rounded a corner, he noticed a figure move, out of the corner of his eye. His arms became rigid as he aimed his guns; ready to unload. He soon realized it wasn't Avalon, but the body of a woman tied to one of the conveyor belts.

“Stranger and stranger,” said Jon, as he walked up to the slow moving belt. “Why would she bring a body out here, just ta' let it ride round and round on a conveyer belt? Didn't think her for the crazy type.”

Jon inspected the body much closer and realized the chest rose ever-so-slightly. “Jesus,” he exclaimed, as he tried getting at the zip ties. He couldn't just yank them off, without the risk of cutting deep into the woman's wrists. He dug out his lighter and began the arduous task of melting them.

As he burnt away the ties, he noticed something odd. The woman's skin seemed to blister slightly, even though the flame itself was concentrated on where she was tied to the metal. In time, he had her free and on the floor. Getting a better – still – look at her, he now saw all the cuts and burns. It was a miracle she was alive, yet something seemed off. He watched, as her skin seemed to steadily redden and even darken in the more injured areas.

It finally clicked. The ice in the trunk and her reaction to heat. Jon lifted her in his arms and raced back the way he came. It didn't take long before they were outside, but Jon continued running; not forgetting why he was here in the first place. He didn't allow his legs to rest until he returned to his car. He sat the woman against his car, as he knelt next to her.

“Hey, ya all-right, lass?” asked Jon, as he patted her bluish cheeks. “Come on, girl. Gimme somethin'.”

The woman's skin didn't appear to be getting any worse, but she was still badly injured. Any attempts to wake her were pointless; whatever happened to her, she was dead to the world. Not sure what to do, he grabbed his phone. However, when he went to dial, he found the screen broke and the flip broke from the hinge; most likely broken from when he was knocked to the ground so hard.

“Dammit,” he cursed, as he threw the phone in the car through the passenger window.

He looked her over again. For all he knew, she was going to die right there, if he didn't figure something out fast. Flustered, he made a break back to the factory; making sure to keep a gun in hand and an eye out for any sign of Avalon. He sped to the guard's office, hoping to find a radio.

The guard was still unconscious, as Jon grabbed the radio from his belt. He pushed the button and was about to call for help when he realized it was light. A quick check revealed a lack of batteries. Furious, Jon threw the radio and was tempted to kick the guard.

“Come on, Jon,” he chided himself. “She almost died from bein' in a hot room. She apparently makes ice. She probably needs-”

Jon cut himself off, as he looked to the mini-cooler beside the TV.

“Ya came through, pal,” he said to the out cold guard, as he grabbed the cooler. “I'll owe ya.”

As fast – and still as cautious – as he could, Jon brought the cooler back to his car. He took off his coat and slipped the woman in it, before laying her in the backseat of his car. He opened the cooler and poured the ice inside on top of her – with a couple beers – and wrapped the coat closed; securing her with seat belts.

Jon jumped into the driver's seat and put the pedal-to-the-metal. He set a B-line for the campus, not sparing a sliver of rubber. It was the only place he knew that could take care of a psionic; especially one like her.

As the scenery blurred pass him and the smell of burnt rubber filled his nose, he couldn't forget Avalon. Why didn't she try to stop him? Was she even there? Was this some kind of distraction? Could she have known he was following her?

He banged the steering wheel, as he yelled, “God damn it! What is goin' on?!”

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Re: Return

Post by Ice » November 4th, 2012, 8:02 pm

JP w/ Cleric, Ice, and ft. Joe Pierce

Jon was close to the campus now. He took a look back and saw the woman was still unconscious, though her skin wasn't getting any worse. Once he hit the campus, he'd have to rush her quickly to the infirmary. He'd never seen a Psionic like this before; he had no idea if she was going to be okay or not with his ice-treatment. Once the campus was in sight, he punched the gas. As he neared the sidewalk, he slammed the breaks and came to a skidding halt on the grass. As quickly as he could, he grabbed the woman from the back seat and rushed her into the building as fast as he could.

Ice stirred when she was lifted, the arms and fabric were pressing against her blackened and blistered skin. The pain that gripped her now conscious body was unimaginable. She opened her swollen lips and attempted a blood-curdling scream; the only sound that managed to pass by her damaged throat was a hoarse but audible movement of air. Her arms were flailing in a panic-induced attempt to save herself; Ice's body temperature began to drop, and drop right around the freezing mark.

Pierce stood at the reception desk speaking with the women behind the counter. He turned to see Jon and went into action. With a snap of his fingers, he took charge. “Call medical and give them a code-blue.” He waved to Jon with two fingers and hurried to the elevator.

When Jon caught sight of Joe, he was thankful someone would know what they'd be doing; especially since the woman began to panic some. With a quick pivot, he followed him to the Elevator. As he reached the doors, he noticed his arms began to get a little chilly.

Ice's bloodshot blue eyes caught sight of the man that was carrying her and aimed her weak, shaking fist for his nose. Barely able to lift her arm it simply fell back down. The pain was blurring her vision and making the lights above her spin her body began to shake uncontrollably; which only made her once hoarse scream turn into the real thing. The pain from her injured throat only made the scream last longer and loader. She was completely out of control which frightened her more. It was a never-ending circle.

“C and C this is Triton, send elevator one to the main floor, priority code blue,” Joe said into his radio.

The speaker squawked back. “Copy that sir.”

Joe looked at Jon with concern. “This is Double Fire’s guest. Do you have any idea what happened?”

Jon’s coat began to crack from an intense cold that began to surround him. "Remember that problem, I said might be comin'?" he answered, as he tried to keep hold of her. "Turns out it's an assassin named Avalon. She took the girl n' had her tied up in a bloody cake factory of all places. Looks like she's been cut up pretty good too."

Tears were streaming down Ice's cheeks, freezing upon them never to fall to their usual fate to the floor. "Help me please...." Ice cried barely a whisper. Her screaming and flailing had worn her body out.

The elevator doors opened and Joe held out over the sensor to keep them open. He waited for Jon to step on before falling in behind. Once he hit the button for sublevel one- he focused on the woman. “We will help, that’s what we’re here for.” He set his hand on her forehead and closed his eyes and used his telepathy. “You need to sleep.”

Jon watched Joe do his thing, as they continued their running. The woman's wish for help panged in his chest, which egged him to hurry but Joe knew what he was doing. Jon would be sure to take his lead on this.

She curled up into the large man's arms calmed by the telepathic message. "Mandy..." Ice whispered into Cleric's chest. With her true sleep, Ice's temperature was creating waves of chill from her body, filling the elevator, causing the two men's breath to leave them in a small cloud.

Jon's body began to shiver, as the temperature dropped. Just when he thought his arms would begin to burn from the cold, the elevator doors opened and they were greeted by a medical staff. Jon gladly handed the woman over to them; glad she could start getting some help.

Jon turned to Joe and said, "She said someone's name, 'fore she passed out. A Mandy or somethin'."

Joe nodded in understanding. “Double Fire’s given name is Amanda, some people call her Mandy.” He stepped over to a courtesy phone and made a call. “Vortex, it’s Triton, could you locate Double Fire for me. Her friend has just been admitted to medical she might want to be here… Yes, I’ll be here in the waiting area… And call Glacier, he might be of some help,” He chuckled with a cough. “Thank you, my son.” Hanging up, he returned his attention to Jon. “Are you all right?”

Jon nodded, as he answered, "I'll be just fine. I just need to find me a new phone. Got a friend o' mine lookin' into' the assassin." Jon rubbed his chilly shoulders, as he added, "Be sure ta' get my coat back for me when ya get a chance."

“I will,” Joe sat on a nearby bench with a sigh of relief and a faint smile of contentment. “That’s one of the things I always liked about you Cleric. You look out for yourself. You’re one of the few I don’t worry about.”

"That's good," Jon sat beside him. "I don't worry 'bout me either. I just hope she'll be okay. It was insane, Joe; the way Avalon had her all diced up and tied in that inferno of a room. It doesn't come off as professional at all."

As unprofessional as it was Avalon was smiling underneath the helmet as the motorcycle practically flew over the road toward the campus. She was able to get back at Laurell; and now the campus would be distracted, this was perfect...
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