Dissecting Domino

February 18, 2015: Cyclops is investigating the mercenary he'd run into in District X, which attracts some helpful attention.

X-Men Base

<Location Description>



  • Curly the Bamf (emitted by Domino)

Mood Music:

It could be said that, while the X-Men operate from a high moral standpoint, there are certain rules and laws that they will occasionally break. They've been called a vigilante team for this purpose; a moniker that some dislike. As for Scott Summers, he knows exactly what they are, and he knows exactly which rules he's willing to bend.

This is why he's currently perusing NYPD and FBI databases, using a falsified log-in.

One by one, Scott pans through an extensive list of known criminals and wanted fugitives. There doesn't seem to be a visual correlation between them, nor are there any direct connections to the face that is 'stored' in one of the other computer terminals. That face is of a woman, mostly obscured by the angle of her head and the cut of her hair, but the black patch over her eye is pretty significant. Finding an image of her was extremely difficult; finding anything else on her, including known associates, is proving to be virtually impossible.

Scott lowers his mug of coffee and leans back into a chair. The motion is accompanied by a deep sigh, followed by a pinch to his nose. It's worth noting, as he sits here in one of the computer stations deep underground, that he's not wearing his ruby quartz glasses.

Hank McCoy is also not blue. In fact, he looks very human, rather tall and somewhat skinnyand quite the epitome of a 'scientist' with his glasses and over-large lab coat. That's one of the items he didn't get spares of once he got Xavier's approval to use the serum. He received notification that someone was doing some hacking — after the HYDRA attack, he's installed a few more precautions, including this one.

He's rushing down to the source, footsteps rather loud in these shoes, but they pause upon seeing just who is seated at the monitor. "Scott? You're the last person I expected to see there…"

And -that- right there is one of -the- reasons why Nathan Christopher Charles Summers is reticent to be seen at the Mansion. While a son of the X-Men, raised with their core values, he in some cases more closely resembles the 'traditional' Brotherhood school of thought, at least how he sees it- 'This is a war for mutant survival. There will be casualties.'.

Cable is nothing if not a soldier.

That doesn't stop him from using the facilities, however. There are some things that are coded in the system at Xavier's that he doesn't yet have up and running. Give him time, however. Give him time. He's got ears in the NYPD from another 'op' that is lying dormant, but for how much longer, no idea. And he's a good enough hacker to know signatures- particularly his father's.

Cable appears at the doorway to the lab just after Dr. McCoy, drover's coat open, though he appears all flesh and blood. Two blue eyes, and not a bit of metal to be seen. A nod of greeting is given to the as of yet unidentified good doctor, but his attention is on the screen, and Scott.

"Her." There's a greeting. "Why her?"

Hank's hasty arrival draws Scott's attention. He sits up, drops his hand, and spins about, briefly alarmed. "Hank? Oh. I'm — damn, I'm sorry. Did I set off an alarm?" He turns back toward the monitor, sighing. "Sorry, I'm nowhere near as good as Doug." It's worth noting that he's not apologizing about having hacked into government databases.

Had Cable not made any appearance, Scott would have likely swiveled back around to pull up something on the computer. Instead, he forms a curious look at Cable's arrival, and blinks twice at his greeting.

A brief glance is given to the computer, just to make sure the picture represents the 'her' Cable is referring to. "Well…" He turns back around, reaching again for his mug of coffee. "She blew up a building in District X."

Part of the building. It was more like blowing out the sixth-odd floor of a building. The devil may be in the details; right now, Scott Summers doesn't quite give a damn.

The mug is set aside, and he rises to his feet. "Why? You know her?"

Hank McCoy turns to look at the one who appeared behind him — he recognizes him from the operating theater, but it's probably not mutual as he was rather blue and furred then. A nod is given and he steps further into the room to let the other move by freely before he turns back to Scott, "Even Doug might have set off the alarms. I'm a bit wary after the HYDRA attack that information was exchanged that shouldn't have been." So he's monitoring things.

When the image on the screen is discusses, he peers over his glasses to look at it, "Is there a -why-? Were there casualties?" He then looks back to Cable as he seems to have familiarity with the woman on the screen.

There's no immediate hint of recognition, no. That doesn't stop Nathan from continuing; anyone who is down here is 'good people' as far as he's concerned. "What's the intel on the building?" It's not an answer, but a real question. "Did anyone get a read on it?" Now, Cable's stopped just inside the room, his expression now briefly puzzled. Paws of hands drop into pockets as he tries to work it out. Something isn't quite right here, and…

"Um…" Cable points to his own eyes in gesture as he looks at Scott, his tones sounding momentarily concerned. "You okay? Or…" Did he learn how to control it without the glasses? Did he lose the gift? Did he…?

Everyone knows that the real excitement can be found in a gathering. When a couple of mutant sorts are all put together and surrounded by advanced tech then surely -something- of interest must be going on. Especially after one comes rushing to the scene, something which doesn't go unnoticed from a dark little creature that spends perhaps an unhealty amount of time lurking than doing anything useful.

The walls really do have eyes. And ears. And a stubby tail.

Not far behind McCoy comes one single blue Bamf. 'Curly,' not that anyone is likely to know his name since all of the stupid things look the same. Rather than teleport, he gallops in on all fours then stops on a dime inside of the room as if searching for a shoulder to perch upon.

(Nope. Nnnnope. Definitely nope.)

Abandoning the search he instead hop-clings to the wall and crawls up to terminal level, looking more like a feline cautiously approaching something unfamiliar as he edges closer to the proverbial action. It's the picture on the screen which quickly catches his interest, as well.

"-Bamf.-" (Oh. -Her.-) It would seem there's some mutual feelings around the room.

To Hank, Scott smirks ruefully. The scientist did have a point; he was extremely good at his work. "No idea," he answers, in regard to the woman's motive, before shifting his brown eyes to include Cable in his next piece. "I've gone over the NYPD reports. Anyone who wasn't killed has been hospitalized; those witnesses can't say what was going on. Came as a total shock to them." A pause. "Except for one. Cerebro has her in the database as an unidentified, so, I'm just calling her, 'Lime'. Again, no clue what was going on."

He's about to turn back to the console, when Cable asks about his eyes in a roundabout way. His brow furrows, more due to the headache that's been setting in, rather than the answer that comes to mind. "Yeah. Fine… long story." Another time, perhaps.

Scott turns back around mere moments before 'Curly' skitters in, and begins punching up casualties on the terminal. Six fatalities, seven injured. "Apartment complex. These two…" Two images zoom in. "…were killed from stabbing. These four…" Zoom out, zoom in. "… from the explosion. The rest were—"

Interrupted by the strange voice, Scott jerks his head to the left, alarmed. "What the… oh. You." He smirks at the little creature, then glances up at the ceiling. "Kurt hanging around up there somewhere?"

Hank McCoy moves closer to the computer to look at the results as they're typed in, "If she's a mutant, we can try to have Xavier try to track her down," if she's 'unidentified'. It might help narrow some things down. Another glance is given to Cable before he straightens, "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've formally met…" in other words, just what are you doing down here, wandering freely? It's supposed to be fairly restricted, last he was told.

Of course, when the Bamf shows up, Hank narrows his eyes, "Kurt! Get your creature out of here!" There isn't much love lost between him and the Bamfs. They may be cute, but they steal and mess up his equipment far too often for him to be charmed by them.

"And no one looked at the building itself." Of course, why should they? The first thing anyone sees are casualties; the 'humanitarian' angle. Cable exhales in a long sigh, "Her MO." The hand that gestured is reset into a pocket and he finds a spot to lean. "Could be a contract. Could be," and a shrug gives his broad shoulders rise, "Anything, really."

When Scott brings up the files on the explosions and the deaths, Cable's expression is something that could be described as impassive. Something seen too many times to count. There is regret, a tinge there. The deaths of mutants.

The request for an introduction is met with grace rather than annoyance and defensiveness. Cable turns to the good doctor and pulls the hand out again to extend, "Nathan Dayspring. I go by 'Cable', too." As to why he's here, he doesn't say.

It's the arrival of a bamf, a creature he's never seen before, that gains his immediate attention after the introduction. "What the hell is that?"

Curly peers at Scott with the greeting and shakes his head, standing upside down while pudgy arms fold across his chest. "Bamf." Just him today. Cable's remark about his appearance is met with a narrowing of glowy eyes, sticking his tongue out at the big guy.

Hank's got a point about these little creatures being a nuisance, too. Case in point, Curly is figuring out that the one woman's face on the screen is of interest to these guys and that evidence is difficult to find. But, some does exist, doesn't it? Word gets through the Bamfvine, and locked containers are generally not an issue for a herd of tiny teleporters.

Curly flips back around and darts across the ceiling, leaping and sticking from one point to another as he searches for something. Something which has currently been locked away for safe keeping. Surely it's around here somewhere…


In a flash of dark hued and foul smelling vapor he reappears beside the monitor, holding a plastic bag filled with the remains of two (slightly damaged) pistol magazines recovered from the scene.


Boundaries. What are those, again?

Cerebro is a good call. Scott nods his agreement to Hank, having given the idea some thought as well.

"I can probably pull a list of tenants," comes as his response to Cable. "See who wasn't home, who wasn't injured, run a few background checks. SRD showed up pretty fast. Soon as they were done questioning me, I considered it wise to get the hell out of dodge."

Eyebrows fall downward when Cable speaks of the suspect with familiarity. "There's a chance, whomever or whatever she was going after, that she didn't get the job done. Which means she'll be back. Only thing I've really got, isn't something from any of these law enforcement databases; it's from Pietro." Scott leaves the computer for the moment, spinning the chair back around and coming to his feet, mug of coffee in hand.

"Says she goes by, 'Domino'." Scott shrugs. "Maybe because of the black tattoo around her eye?"

Maybe because she's a mutant killer. The thought goes unspoken, but a dark expression comes across his eyes. One by one, the muties fall down. Normally, his glasses would have concealed the distaste.

"Fortunately, we did gather some evidence from the scene —"

And then, Scott's nose curls from the putrid odor. Or is it the fact that the little Bamf just produced the evidence he'd locked away?

"— and there it is."

The evidence bags bear the NYPD and SRD logos.

Hank McCoy takes Cable's offered hand before he lets it go and lifts it to press two fingers at the bridge of his nose. This is…yet another thing to add to the list of things they have to look into. At this point, classes will never be taught at the school. He listens to Scott and Cable for a moment before he looks to Scott, obviously silently asking 'Why is this guy here?'. He's not trying to be subtle at all. He's not going to discuss anything more until he gets ananswer to that.

Except for the Bamf. "Put that back!" is insisted when the little guy brings the evidence, "We know it's here. Thank you. Please put it right back where you found it." Wait, that might not work. "No, wait. Just…" ugh. "Just give it to me." He'll put it back.

So named, and Nathan doesn't even have to give it up. "That's her." His voice lowers slightly and loses part of its edge. "Pretty sure she got her target, if she was after someone. I know her well, and something like this? She's better than that. If it was a contract, it was messy, which means there was something else going on. She's not a wholesale sort. This isn't her work. It's not right."

Retrieving his hand once the greeting is done, it doesn't escape the mutant that the doctor didn't identify himself. No matter. Nor does he seem too put out that his presence isn't appreciated here.

It's the movement of the bamfs that Cable's watching now, fascinated, once the initial 'what the hell?' is past him. What they carry is immediately recognized and he nods.

"Those are hers."

Curly's helping! He's not done yet, however. First he ducks down on all fours and narrows eyes at Beast, growling softly with a show of teeth. 'Mine!' Though in another second he vanishes once more in another poof of dark-hued smoke, leaving the bag of evidence right there next to the terminal Scott is seated at.

This time it's a few seconds before he comes back, along with a laptop which is already powered on. It's also got a partially written report on the screen and a nametag on the back of the monitor, very likely taken right out from a student's hands from the Institute.

"-Bamf,-" he declares with a jabbing of tailtip at the evidence before taking to the keyboard. Typing is a bit awkward for the guy, more involving a hunting and punching or kicking of the keys one at a time.


Internet firearms database. He switches between bashing at the keys and moving the cursor around on the touchpad, appearing thoughtful as he works. Then he pauses and very nearly pounces back onto the evidence bag, trying to flatten out the plastic to get a better look at the mangled metal beneath it.

Back to the laptop he goes, spiking the keys a few more times before he hops away from the screen and points at it with a "Bamf?"

The picture on the screen is of a large black semi-automatic pistol, labeled 'Werfel und Reinhardt Zehn Auto-Kampf.'

Then Curly points back to the evidence bag. "Bamf!"

It's a very uncommon weapon. It fires an uncommon caliber. Follow the evidence, so long as there's access to the FBI database right here and all!

"He has the Professor's approval." That was for Hank's benefit. Contrary to Reed Richards, Scott is thankful for Hank's nature. He's the one who's always looking out for the angles, playing devil's advocate, making absolutely sure that things go by the book. Scott is by the book in certain ways… but he's also one to charge in where angels fear to tread. The two men tend to even each other out.

A look is given to Cable. "I blasted them so she couldn't reload." This explains the mangled nature of the clips. Fortunately, Scott's optic energy beams are percussive in nature, rather than any type of thermal or electrical energy. The mags may be mangled, but they aren't burned, nor chemically damaged in any way. It hasn't crossed his mind, though, to have them analyzed. Scott's no scientist.

No, Scott's attention seems to remain fully leveled upon Cable. He even goes so far as to fold his arms, as if he were about to hear some excuse one of his students gave for their misbehavior. "You seem to know a lot about this woman. Think you might…" One hand comes free, waving through the air in Cable's direction. "…shed some light on this, 'stead of being so damn vague?"

Grounded, son. Grounded.

Now, in spite of the noise that little Bamf is making, Scott doesn't divert his attention. He seems hell bent on intimidating Cable into spilling the beans that he's obviously keeping to himself. It doesn't help that, without his glasses or visor, Scott isn't nearly as intimidating as he can be. Eventually, however, the ruckus gets to him… it shows up as an annoyed look on his face. "What the hell is that thing doing?"

Yeah, he's gonna be too stubborn to just turn around and look.

Hank McCoy bares his teeth right back at the Bamf…but it's much less effective in this human form. As it is, he needs to take a moment and close his eyes. A few deep breaths are taken in and let out before he opens his eyes again and looks to see what's been typed on the now-appeared laptop. "You shouldn't be taking people's things, you know."

But he's not trying to catch the thing and toss it out of the room because it's actually being somewhat helpful.

Noting the make of the gun, he glances to the others, "Could be hired by HYDRA. That would make sense with everything that's been going on…" since HYDRA apparently has it out for mutants right now. He's willing to look at what the critter pulled up, even if he doesn't necessarily trust him. Of course, "Scott…why didn't you have me look at these guns before?" He may not be a forensic specialist, but the study isn't unknown to him.

"Good shot," is given with a touch of a smile. The gesture is genuine, if fleeting. A memory of happier times, perhaps. Nate takes a deep breath and shrugs, heading into something of more dangerous territory. The tone isn't unknown to him, and for a second, he hesitates.

"She's been my… partner on a few things. A really capable gun." There. There's something! *cough* "If she did something like that, there's a reason. But I have no idea what it is." And he's going to sit back and see what happens.

Glancing over to the doctor, brows rise and Cable begins slowly, "She doesn't usually go after mutants. It's a 'thing', you know. Not unless they've turned against their own in some remarkable fashion. She's not a traitor."

The bamf's escapades earns the creature that curious look again, though there's a touch of concern there. Little thief. "That would be one of her guns, yeah. She's something of a collector of fine firearms."

Curly's head dips slightly when Hank scolds him. It isn't that he's -trying- to be bad, he just ..operates..on a slightly different level than everyone else. The majority of society. Before he can return the laptop to its rightful owner, however…

Two quick leaps leaves the blue critter perched right on top of Scott's head, leaning forward to -stare- at the guy upside down with yellow eyes narrowed to slits. "-Bamf,-" he says once more while jabbing a finger in the direction of the laptop. (Stop talking and look, already!)

Sometimes life can be so difficult when one's vocabulary is limited to all of one primary word. Where's a darned translator when you need o-oh yeeeeeaaah… He kinda got left behind back there.

Oh well! Curly's good deed of the day is done. He hops back down and ducks behind the laptop before peering around the edge, holding the tip of his tail in both hands in a clear imitation of a pistol as he pretends to shoot at things. "Bamf bamf!"

Then comes Cable's admission. 'Been his partner…' Curly cants his head and thinks about this for a moment before his eyes slooooowly grow wider, ending with him smacking an open palm to the side of his face as he -stares- back at Cable with his mouth gaping open, looking absolutely shocked. Another tilt of his head leaves one eye notably smaller than the other, still looking up at him as he voices another "Bamf?!" (Are you crazy?!)

Truth be told? Scott's been distracted. The incident in District X had been almost immediately followed by the X-Men's trip, alongside the Fantastic 4, into the Negative Zone. There, he recovered the use of his eyes.

He hasn't seen real color since he was a very young boy.

A long look is given to Hank, paired with a dry answer that isn't entirely that convincing. "Didn't cross my mind."

Now, Scott still may not be convinced that Cable is being entirely forthcoming, but he is shedding some light into the picture. That's something. Compliments do go a long way, as well. The scolding demeanor melts away, and he opens his mouth to speak. Before anything comes out, however, he becomes… a freaking Bamf perching stool.

That loathsome look returns. Scott's eyes even go a little cross eyed. "Remember," comes drily. "Good shot."

No, folks. Scott really wouldn't eyebeam the little guy.

Scott finally turns to inspect the laptop, and the weapon detailed upon its screen. "I'll say," he echoes. Fine firearms, indeed. He studies its specs for a moment or two, but when Curly expresses his shock at Cable's choice of partnerships, Scott actually grins at the little creature. "My thoughts, exactly."

Turning away from the laptop, the tall mutant leans up against the table and looks between the two. "So, she isn't a traitor to mutant kind. She also either doesn't have a grasp on collateral damage, or she doesn't give a shit about it. Which makes her dangerous. To a lot of people. Nathaniel, is it possible that she's working for HYDRA?"

Hank McCoy looks between the two and gives a sigh, mostly agreeing with the Bamf's reaction. "You could have mentioned that at the beginning." When he recognized the woman. Looking back at the screen, he then moves to the bag with the guns, "It makes sense if she's a mercenary. Paid by HYDRA to do what they want her to do." He glances back to Cable, "Does that fit what you know of her?"

Cable hangs his head a moment; is this the first time a parent has questioned a girlfriend? Probably, for him! He was too young to even consider girls when 'his' Scott and Jean left him at the age of 13. The 'talks', sure. "Thanks." It's good humoured enough.

It's back to business, though. Cable considers before, "Collateral damage is usually minimized. We try, sure. It's usually only the 'bad guys' that are targeted. But this… this isn't right."

Nate takes a step to the side towards the door in prelude to departing. "Could she have taken a contract from someone? Sure. Could that contract come from someone who works for HYDRA? If it's good money and there's reason for it, probably wouldn't dig too deeply. We deal with single players, not whole groups. Signing on with an organization isn't her style. She's a loner, and sometimes she'll work with one, two others if it advances her op."

Hank's addition gains that hint of a headshake from Cable. "Not an organization. Individuals. Mostly, it's just a target. All of that?" It's not the first time the man sighs, and won't be the last. "Whatever that is, it's setting her up for a fall."

The bamf is given a look and in the next second, the bamf's tail is moved 'round, and the laptop closes, seemingly of its own accord. On the tail. "No comments."

To the other two, Nathan looks apologetic. "I'm not going to go looking for her. Whatever it is, it'll show itself soon enough. Dom's good enough and smart enough to get through it on the other side." And lucky enough. "Gotta go, though."

Okay, okay. Curly's moment of Show and Tell is over. If anyone else wants to look into the gun they know where to start. He's just about to close out of the web browser when something..nudges him from behi-


The teleporting blueberry tries to jump but gets yanked back down by a laptop now holding the end of his tail. Just as soon as he figures it out he glares back to Cable, pointing two stubby fingers at his yellow eyes then pointing just one finger back up at Nate.

Then he's gone with another *Bamf!* as he takes the borrowed device back home to its owner.

He comes back a moment later, hands held out to either side with a look of utter annoyance about him. It's the look of someone who had just gotten mud spattered all over their nice new outfit. His fur's a little on the wet side…

The Bamfs are known entities around Xavier's. Turns out the owner of the 'borrowed' laptop also had a spritzer bottle close at hand.

The ambush had been perfectly executed by a very patient student.

Curly carefully waddles away from anything electronic, dropping to the floor on all fours before shaking himself out like a soaked puppy. Unlike a post-bath canine he also wrings out his tail with a look of absolute discontent.

Its all very interesting to Scott. Troubling, but interesting. "Person like this?" He taps the screen on his original console, where the mostly-obscured photo of Domino can be seen. "She can be an enemy one moment, and an asset the next. Not something I'm particularly fond of, but… she could be useful." In the right context. With a whole hell of a lot of caution thrown into the mix.

A long breath is taken. "We'll use Cerebro. Try to keep a bead on her." He glances toward Hank, seeking support from his teammate, wondering if it's a good call.

Nonplussed, Scott observes Curly's antics, until the creature returns. Denoting the Bamf's demise, he smirks. "Serves you right. Thanks for the help, though, little guy." He reaches out to scruff the Bamf's furry head, before remembering the whole 'wet dog hair really stinks' factor. Add the sulfurous factor…

A lip curls, and a slightly dampened hand is shaken off.

Then, however, Scott looks toward Cable in his departure. Telepathic abilities. Hair color similar to that of Nate Grey. Nathaniel. A brow furrows, and for a moment, an idea comes to his mind that just might be outlandish enough to break him.

He blinks. Three times. Then, he shakes it off, literally, with a shake of his head. Nah. No way. Far too much of a stretch.

"That's the whole 'Mercenary' thing, Scott. Even if it's payment from one person, who knows where the money came from? The question is, even if we can get her and get information, who is to say she can even be trusted?" He looks after Nate as he makes his exit, "Who -is- he and why is he still here? And why is he down -here-?" There, now he can ask it. "And he knows this one…this cannot bode well, Scott." Sure, Hank may be a little negative at times, but he does definitely see things from a different point of view than many.

"If she's a mutant, Cerebro should be able to find her," unless she has Magneto's helmet. "I guess we can go from there, but she cannot come here. Just promise me that." There are too many lives at risk for that.

When the Bamf returns, dripping, he can't hide a smirk. He's going to have to remember to keep a squirt bottle handy for the next time Bamfs come 'exploring' in his lab. "You did good today…uhhh…" he doesn't know this one's name. "So thank you. I'm sorry that I snapped…but you know why I did."

As Scott's hand approaches the top of Curly's head he closes his eyes and liiiifts himself up onto tiptoes, making a low sound of contentment which doesn't sound anything like 'bamf' or 'whiskey.' When his eyes pop back open he looks up to Hank with a downright cheerful sounding "Bamf!"

His work, acknowledged! It's a good day, after all.

All the same, the interesting techie stuff seems to have come to an end for the time being. This is a problem for anyone with the attention span of a fruit fly. While Scott's shaking his hand out Curly ducks back down to all fours and launches himself out of the room and back out into the hall, off to find some other manner of trouble. Somewhere.

There's -always- something going on around here.

"A friend to Professor Xavier," Scott answers. That alone is enough for him, to a point. "I don't disagree with you, Hank. She's dangerous. We need to know what she's up to. And no… there's no way she'll ever step foot on these grounds."

Scott looks on as Curly departs. "I… just… don't know." He turns back to the computers, clearing the access and shutting them down. "I'd better go and speak with Charles."

At least they agreed that she won't be coming here. "The more people who come here that we don't know, the less we'll be a secret. As it is, it's getting harder and harder…" at least, it is for him. "Will we be able to trust what she even tells us? Maybe if Jean or Charles can help…" by verifying their words to their thoughts.

When Scott mentions talking to Charles, Hank nods, "Mind if I come with you? I think with the Negative Zone and this…it's best to have more than one voice talking."

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