Rookie Killer

The impact came suddenly. Even Eevi wouldn't have the reaction speed to dodge whatever had just been fired at her. All she had was the fraction of the fraction of a second to move what she could of her body out of the way. What certainly would have struck her sternum center mass, instead caught her floating ribs. The crunch and crack that she heard echo from her ribs came from the weighty piece of rubber that landed on the restaurant floor. She attempted to answer this attack in kind, but what she felt from the burning, stabbing, pressure that seared into her left side forced only a gasp to punch from her mouth. Words would have to wait, she had to go.

Flinging the small, square-top tables on their side, facing towards the unseen shooter, Eevi made a crouched run towards the door their server had taken into the back of house. There was an open space however from the floor to the back of house so she waited a moment, kept her place and caught her breath, staggered and pained as it was. Even a slight inhale brought stabbing pain into her diaphragm and the lower left portion of her lungs. While she more then likely could still speak, Eevi wasn't sure it would be audible enough at this point for her powers to work. Not that she'd afford her mouth the purpose of speech for at that moment all she could do was grit her teeth and press her tongue against them as a natural response to the pain she felt.

But unfortunately for the unknown assailant, Eevi's luck would still hold as it always had the 90 years she held these abilities. Her server emerged from the back holding a tray of scotch egg with a side of biscuits and jam, very much having been unaware of the recent chaos destroying her workspace. The sight of this new piece on the board gave Eevi the opening she needed. Springing from her space behind the table, Eevi seized upon her former server now turned hostage. Swiping the knife accompanying the biscuits and jam, she knocked the tray from the surprised girl and twisted the same arm holding said tray uncomfortably and painfully behind her. Rounding herself into cover behind the girl, Eevi raised the knife to her hostage's throat. A small rasp of painfully uttered words left her throat like a hiss of venom at the approaching haze

"You want the girl to live, back off. Don't want me to take her hostage until I'm certain I'm far away from you? Then get me April Lambe, now."

April was still running. To where? She didn't know. She had left the restaurant, and was running down a flight of stairs, not quite as fast as she could, since she didn't want to trip over herself and fall.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT-!"

April did exactly what she didnt want to do, and fell down the stairs. Tumbling, she hit the floor hard.

"Urgh..."

Passersby stopped to look at her, but she didn't seem to mind. Instead, she leapt up and started to run again.

There was a nagging in her head, though. Something telling her to turn around. Maybe it was a plant, or maybe it was just her own mind trying to do the right thing. What if someone else got hurt? What if that girl tried to kill someone else?

She continued to run, out of the building and into the street.

His quarry had taken a hostage; how quaint. Officially, Thorn didn't exist - if things went wrong, he had no allegiance. He would be disavowed, washed off, to keep the Initiative and the CIA clean. Well, as clean as it could remain, given the reputation. As for Inkwell, she seemed convinced that he - her attacker - was merely nothing more than a man with great gadgets.

Well, he was that, but he was also more. A psionic agent like him didn't shy away from fighting dirty - or finding third options. Behind his glowing lenses, his eyes glowed with psionic power as he targeted Inkwell as he lowered his momentum and came to a halt. He eyed the knife in Inkwell's hand, at the throat of the waitress, convinced that his target was not bluffing and lacked the moral qualms against killing - after all, she was ready to kill a Meta that had no reputation for what he suspected to be little more than payment.

He took a few steps back - a bluff, but one hard to make out. His target was exactly one person - Inkwell.

"Never heard of her," his voice, modulated through his gas mask, said.

He was ready to resolve this in multiple ways: he could use psychokinesis to easily yank Inkwell into the air, or yank her hostage free (which carried far greater risk to the hostage), or wait until Inkwell let the hostage go before yanking her.

Another step back.

"Ballsy, to try assassinating a Meta and hope a hornet's nest won't be kicked over, though," he continued, trying to drag out and create an opening for himself.

It was nice to put a voice to the person, as fake as it could be. The shape stopped it's pursuit if only for a moment. That would be the time Eevi needed. "You're not stupid enough to not put two and two together, the walking shrubbery from just now. Now today you and her combined have ruined two lunches, afforded me expensive medical treatment, and potentially ruined an easy paycheck." She pulled her hostage tighter, pressing the knife enough to start drawing blood from the innocent girl to show her annoyance with the day. "Now, from what I hope is one professional to another, respect my time and leave me to my work." She took a step back, making a staggered retreat towards the door leading to the back of house. Closer to her escape.

A snide chuckle left her over her new adversary's remark about her target. "It sounds to me like she isn't even fully a hero yet, otherwise that cowardly, naive fool would be here helping you. Hornets aren't so sensitive as to care about a larvae like that one dying asides from sparing a notice at their death." She was too kind for a world like this in truth. April Lambe would never have survived what Eevi had gone through, she wouldn't even have survived today without outside interference. Someone delicate like that deserved the unrecognized mercy that only people like Eevi could grant her. This world was too cruel for them otherwise.

If this person was a hunter like her too though, this girl between them meant as little to them as she did to Eevi. It was time to test that then. "Let's see about you however." She jerked her hand, hard. What would have been a gasp or a pained cry only came as a gurgle from the girl she held as a shield. The hot life blood of her short time on this world began to decorate the girl, floor, and Eevi alike. With a kick, Eevi shot the dying girl at the shape and made for the door. "Pick now my friend, the hornet or the gnat. Show if you have the weakness that is sympathy or the grit to leave her for your mission."

Thorn decloaked as the body flew at him, the waitress rapidly bleeding out in his arms. He was not without sympathy, but his mission took priority - more pertinently, he didn't have the medical supplies needed to stop an arterial bleed from the neck, much less one so deep. Behind the lenses of his mask was a silent apology, followed by a silent fury.

"Oh, no you don't..."

The eyes behind his lenses glowed, and psionic energy radiated off of his body as he activated his Crushing Grip.

A sudden feeling of weightlessness would hit Inkwell as Thorn's psychokinesis swept her off the ground; a sensation similar to water pressure pushing in around her body as she was caught in his Crushing Grip. It wouldn't last particularly long, but Thorn used the bought time to load yet another ring airfoil projectile into his launcher.

"You made a mistake...Inkwell. You have your target," Thorn started before stating, "And I have mine: you - preferably alive. But dead is...acceptable."

Personally, he was itching for her to resist, so he had every excuse to opt for "dead". The Initiative had recruited some of the most talented postcogs that would have been eager to pick at Inkwell's post-mortem brain. As soon as the Crushing Grip wore off, right as his quip ended, he fired the launcher again, square at Inkwell's back.

April continued to run, weaving between people and dodging obstacles on her way, when she suddenly paused. She felt cowardly. She glanced behind her, turned around, and began walking back to where she came.

She didn't have a plan. Maybe she could get a sneak attack on her ex-boss? Then again, if her boss went outside, she'd obviously notice the green hair and outfit of April before she even got close. Maybe she could use her powers to grow a vine and climb up into the window? But she didnt particularly feel like falling down an entire flight of stairs. Maybe she-

Oh. She was back at the museum's entrance.

"...Damn."

Of all the surprises today, a second person with powers interrupting her day would’ve won Eevi the lottery with her expectations. A person with powers targeting her added in there and she would have felt comfortable trying her luck at becoming the American President with those odds. There was no pleasantry that came with this surprise however. Instead all that came with her surprise was crushing weight around her body. It was as if suddenly her entire body had been squeezed like a stress ball.

Because of the state of her ribs from this man’s prior shot, the brought the now familiar stabbing pain to a precipice accompanied by a cough of blood from her mouth. Something had certainly been punctured by her broken ribs. To compliment as well, the moment she was released from this invisible force, another one of the rounds from earlier impacted once again into the small of her back.

If she wasn’t sure of the blow that had caught her floating ribs earlier. This one had certainly broken her ribs around the impact zone. She attempted to steady herself on one knee but instead could only roll over onto her back from the strain staying upright brought onto her torso. It was a delirium of confusion that had come over Eevi, had she been defeated? Was this stranger going to stop her finally after all this time? Time would tell soon.

Propping herself up on her right elbow and bracing the same hand on her chest, Eevi gave the apparent Victor of this confrontation a blood filled smile ridden with sadistic joy. ”My commendations friend, you truly have the will of a killer. What a hundred of you couldn’t have done for us in ‘39. I shudder to imagine the results. There is still a difference between you and I though. You offered me dead or alive. You haven’t crossed the rubicon yet to become like the rest of us.”

Struggling to a somewhat upright position from her position on the floor, she offered him her left arm extended outward towards him. ”Come then, help a lady up. You owe it to her after ruining her day at least.”

"Don't flatter yourself, Inkwell - I crossed that line long ago. If attempting to take you in was not in my parameters, I'd have blown your head clean off all the way from Big Ben and been off the island before anyone knew what happened," Thorn said, suspiciously eying the extended hand.

Not taking chances, he refreshed his Psi-Shield - that way even if Inkwell did attempt what he suspected she would, at least his body wouldn't eat it.

"A lot of money was moved to put together the dossier on you, and I read it all - even the parts the censors didn't want me to," Thorn commented as he stepped forward. "Colorful history - not many nineteen-year-olds stay nineteen for decades on end. And five Feds killed, at contact range, with no brass in the area to be found - anyone methodical enough could find a way not to leave brass behind. But you - you're impulsive. Dangerously so. And it also said that you love playing the Wounded Gazelle."

A light formed at the end of the hand he extended, ready to hit her with a partial-strength Kinetic Blast if she tried it...

"So, what will it be, Inkwell?" Thorn asked. "Lights out? Or 'click-bang'?"

April climbed up the long flight of stairs, breathing heavily. She wasn't used to all of this running for her life, much less trying top be a hero. She still had no idea what to do once she got up there. She paused, and turned back around.

She probably looked insane, pacing up and down like that, but she now had a plan. Racing outside, she looked around for anything she could use. The only plant she could find was the grass in front of the museum.

She paused for a second. Would this really work?

It had to.

April dashed across the yard, and ripped up some grass from the ground, apologizing profusely as she did so. The grass screamed into her mind, begging for her to stop.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

April ran back into the museum, getting strange looks from passersby, but she didn't seem to mind. She would stop this criminal from hurting anyone else.

Lights out, or click-bang? Neither actually. A chuckle left Eevi’s lips. It was rasping, garbled with blood, and full of spite. ”She’s your fault you know?” Inclining her head towards the girl drowning on her own blood on the floor, she flashed her foe a look of sadistic glee. “I only had one target today. The only one who could’ve died with my actions would have been April Lambe. This girl however, is dying because of you and your mission. ‘Acceptable casualties’, ‘affordable loses’, ‘collateral damage’. That’s what you deal in. I deal in there’s the target that needs to die and that is it, bad for business for others to die while I’m working. With a nonchalant shrug entirely inappropriate for the gravity of the situation, a mocking, bemused look took Eevi’s face. ”Sloppy.”

She was still holding her arm up at him but now she began curling her fingers partially and stuck her thumb out towards him while maintaining the extension of her arm. She began to laugh and shake her head, casting it downwards towards her body. Genuine glee at the situation, and to disguise the trap. English left her vocabulary and was taken by a rant in Finnish, hoping her enemy didn’t know the language or know the word she would slip in. “This is the problem with the west; you all play with your false morals justifying what you’ve done. Where is the morality in this girl’s blood soaking the carpet, the justice in her tears mixing with it? You said you spent a lot of money on me? Imagine click how much this girl’s life could’ve been improved by that? Instead she’s here, dying, because of your money.”

Before she even finished that sentence, she was raising her head back up towards him again. The instant she made any direct eye contact with his body, she would flick her right hand towards him, still having been braced on her body, and form that familiar finger pistol shape. “Boom.” And she fired all 10 shots stored on her right hand at him.

In classic sociopathic fashion - as the psychological profilers predicted - Inkwell immediately deflected blame for the hostages death onto Thorn himself - as if he was a powerful enough psychic to directly seize her mind and command her to slit her throat. He didn't need to take a logic class to poke holes into her rant - not that she would accept the logic.

More importantly, it tipped off Thorn that she was stalling for time - and that she foolishly did not expect a psychic to be able to feel her though processes out. Initiative language primers didn't always teach written language, but provided a good guide on spoken languages - he didn't need a language degree to know Inkwell was speaking Finnish.

When he heard "click" he further readied his Kinetic Blast - true to the telltale impulsiveness inherent to sociopaths, Inkwell followed through, at the same time as Thorn released his Kinetic Blast. It wasn't at full power - power that would bend a steel girder - but more than enough to knock her head against the ground, throw off her aim, and cause a bad concussion.

As for Thorn, the Psi Shield took the brunt of Inkwell's attack, but part of it still got through, damaging the kevlar and polymer plating - hard enough to start an entry wound, but no where near enough energy was left to go clean through him. He staggered and gripped his bleeding shoulder, a grenade pin and flashbang dropping from his belt as he quickly deployed his cloaking module as the flashbang exploded.

Within Inkwell's head, Thorn's distorted voice sounded like it was coming from ever direction even as he fell to cover.

"Looks like you're keen on coming in a body bag," he echoed. "Alright, I wasn't actually planning on trying this new technique out in the field, but here: enjoy."

In her head, completely bypassing her eardrum, a siren - the likes of which made the 110 decibel Lunk Alarm at a Planet Fitness sound like a whisper - blared for ten or so seconds on end. It faded, leaving a sensation of tinnitus.

"How did you like that? Hell, even my head hurts just putting it in yours," Thorn taunted. "Few more seconds, and I'll make sure you get brain f**ked, again."

April ran up the stairs again, grass in hand. She was whispering to it, apologetically saying goodbyes.

She paused before she reached the restaurant, nervously adjusting her weight from foot to foot.

"Oh, screw it."

April entered the restaurant.

"Please don't kill me!" She shouted, holding up the grass in front of her, desperately, like it was a peace offering.

Standing would be too hard to try anymore, exhaustion like this was a forgotten sensation to Eevi after all these years but not a new experience. Crawling would have to do. She stared in confused awe at April Lambe's return, a curious plea for her life at the most dangerous place for specifically her in all of London. Maybe Eevi had been wrong about this woman. An opportunity could present itself though. "April I am sorry, it wasn't my actions earlier. You have heard him in your head too yes? He's in my head as well, he commanded me to hurt you and I couldn't resist him." Pleading eyes shot at the young woman offering a token of peace of.... shredded grass? Huh.

The ringing and disorienting vitiligo-like sensation made her crawl awkward and staggard as she pulled herself back towards her escape still. Each drag of her body across the floor adding a strained pull on her torso, stabbing darts of fire into her chest from most directions towards her chest. "He is after me, I can guarantee you one thing with him though; He won't kill you. Please, get me the time I need to get away. I can still save our waitress if you buy me the time to regain some of my power." A feigned look of remorse was plastered over her face as she slowly, and painfully turned her head back towards their server still clinging on to her threads of life pointlessly. Desperation like this was almost a bygone memory to her as well, but Eevi knew survival trumped all the other needs of a person. Even their pride.

A feeling of alarm entered Thorn's mind as he felt a presence re-enter the restaurant - a presence that should not be here anymore.

"What are you still doing here?" Thorn questioned. "You should be two blocks away by now."

He felt the urge to vomit as Inkwell laid out her false story, but he swallowed it down. He was a professional - trained not to let emotion override rationality while on the job. It was why he wouldn't let Inkwell bait him into a mistake born of impulsiveness.

"This woman said exactly one thing that is true in all of that: I'm after her, not you," Thorn said. "It's too late for the waitress - the woman right in front of you cut her throat. Help her, and she'll do the same to you when she gets the chance. Just walk away - it's the only thing that will guarantee your safety, from either of us."

Elsewhere, behind April and by the stairs, there stood what appeared to be a metallic statue of a woman - a statue that a particularly perceptive mind would note was not previously there when April had bailed out of the restaurant earlier. It just seemed to appear in between then and during the skirmish between the two assassins.

"Ohhhh..." April rubs her head with one hand, holding the grass in the other. "I can't go. Someone else might die. Plus, who says I can trust you?"

She rubs her temple, and looks down at the grass in her hand. In a split second, she then throws the grass towards the two.

"Bind them!" She shouts, and the grass starts to grow rapidly, roots branching out and around, and the stalks growing taller. It reaches towards Eevi and Thorn, attempting to grow around their legs and arms.

Grass? This woman had just restrained Eevi with grass? Of all the levels of done Eevi could be with her day, she had just reached the precipice of her limit. The grass saw to properly restraining her, weaving itself in with carpet threads of the floor beneath her for a firm hold.  A solid roll back and forth could have freed her, but she had an angle to play.

"April, I know you think you're helping the situation. But you're getting in my way to save that woman." Raising her hands to show compliance with the girl, Eevi attempted to work an angle with this woman. "I told you already, my name is Ana Thórirsdóttir. I was born in Krisitansund, Norway 24 years ago. My parents names are Paul and Ava. In my left breast pocket I have the engagement ring I purchased today for when I finished up our business today. I was going to propose to my boyfriend Mark in Germany when I got home. All you have to do is come and grab it." Pleading eyes looked at April while directing her eyes at their mutual third party.  She inclined her head quickly down towards her breast pocket almost begging for her to approach with her eyes.

"This man tells you that's it too late to save anyone here, but I'm telling you he doesn't decide that April. You do, because you are a Superhero. Your mother would be proud that you came back." The inner joy at her deceit brought Eevi a fake smile of kindness at April alongside a comforting warmth that brought some relief to the terrible pain she was in. Pain she would repay ten thousand fold for the waste of what had been a pleasant day for her until now. Opening her mind, Eevi let her foe freely hear her thoughts. "Lambe to the slaughter, eh?" The urge to sneer at him had to be stifled at her anticipation.