Hurricane, meet Butterfly

Isola Radiale affiliated Ada Wong. Dwarf, Apartment 308 Golden Ward

[butterfly-hurricane]

Pinned:

APP || STATS || THREADS || Permanent Plot Ada Wong of Resident Evil. - A woman who keeps her true purpose close to her chest. - Involved intimately in the world of bioterror.

Rules: Be nice, have fun. - Syd.

[butterfly-hurricane]

@checkandmate

Curls had returned to her hair, and the small streaks of silver had started to show again at Ada's roots. She was looking more like herself, presently- and not like her Self that had been stuck in Raccoon City.

The role she'd taken as a favor could be set aside, for now. Simmons reared his ugly head, and darted back into the shadows, waiting for his threat to land, and for some response to his thrown gauntlet.

And he could wait.

Ada herself was in the mood to indulge whimsy- something she hardly got to do with her busy schedule.

Well, here, she could make her own. Bioweapons weren't as big of a threat as they were in their own world, and there wasn't a market for it that she could corner.

With Valentine's and the Lunar New Year within a few days of each other? She had an idea of what she wanted to do.

Red qipao, red envelope, red lips, and hair combed back with gold hair pins, she left to haunt House 119, and knocked on Leon's door. "You busy, hon?"

[headlesshydra]

The rapid activity of the small office in the broken butterfly was overwhelming. People moving around, teleporting in and out, bringing people from seemingly nowhere- Its enough to make her anxiety spike already.

She’d not met Thomas yet, but she could tell just by looking at him that he and Hunnigan could get along easily. Reconnaissance scouts, and people really good at misdirection.

Ada, meanwhile, was making a show of herself as usual, stepping into the role of her doppleganger a little too well. It’s almost terrifying, but the illusion was absolutely sold just by how she adopted the other womans behaviors- Even down to the slightest twitch of her body language.

…And that would come in handy when the next turn of events came to pass.

“No… Why the fuck is HE here?!”

She could feel the shift in the air, the hair on the back of her neck standing up as her hackles raised. A nightmare she’d been dreading finally came to pass, and she turns to her smaller counterpart, instructing her to stay right where she is and hide if anything changed for the worse.

And if it all went tits up? Run, run to the Black fens and find Legato, and tell him what happened.

Leon calls her to follow, and she’s quick to fall in step right behind him, drawing the Hydra and keeping it pointed at the floor as she stayed in his shadow, checking corners and windows, and any exposed upper floors as they made their way down into the lobby.

This felt too familiar…

Ada’s already down in the lobby entertaining him, and the very sight of the man has her biting her tongue until it bleeds, glaring at him from the position she and Leon took in the crowd.

What do you want? A silly question, Ada, what DOESN’T he want?

She grits her teeth and takes several deep breaths to try and keep her head- It’s proving difficult.

[checkandmate-deactivated2026021]

"Helena, stay steady. We got him once we can do it again. Hell, it'll be my pleasure."

Leon waited for his moment, their moment. Ada was center stage in this objectively bad situation. They had to rely on her cues to move forward. And in the background, while Ada was doing the heavy lifting, they could make her job a lot easier and mitigate the amount of damage this guy could do. Who knew what he had been up to since he'd been around.

But there was no mistaking it, that man was Derek C. Simmons. It had been years since they deposed his sorry ass and sent him to hell. The years blurred together, sure, and not every single outbreak had been memorable, but he remembered this guy.

"Hunnigan, do we have any way to evacuate people quickly? Fire alarms, something like that. This guy's ate through hundreds of people in seconds last time. If he's planning on Ground Zero-ing this place, it doesn't matter if you can't die here. I don't know what happens if you get assimilated."

Leon watched Ada in his periphery. If he had to, he'd shoot. Not like it would do much, but it could do enough to hurt.

[withourtraces-deactivated202602]

This man had yellow eyes. They were not just an off amber brown, they were yellow like a Tyvian snow cat's eyes. There were old folktales in Karnaca about serpent monsters with those bright near-glowing eyes. Thomas felt the edges of his perception go wet. The man who broke the space up with his inescapable silhouette seemed too in focus and too loud.

"Something is wrong," he murmured. This was out of the identifiable wrong, too. Something was very wrong with his acute perceptions.

This man spoke with his hands, extending them on either side of him around hip level as if he were presenting a show.

"A honeymoon," said the man, a tinge of something knife sharp and foul under those carefully wrapped words, "Well, if I'm not mistaken, I don't think the terms of annulment go into effect if both parties are in fact alive, which is exactly what I came to talk to you about."

The man walked towards Ada, stopping just shy of six feet, and Thomas stepped a foot in front of her with a deep breath that rattled the respirator.

"Ah- You must be Daud. I've certainly come to learn a lot about you. But- I digress, I'd like to speak to my wife. Face to face."

The rest of his entourage was slithering outwards into the crowd, and threatening it. There were likely more than 7. The range on the weapons from their world was obscene. They had sniping tools the Empire could only dream of. Thomas kept his eye on Simmons, and a hand settled on Ada's back.

This guy had something evil in him. He'd use force with or without provocation.

"As you've probably noticed, I have always been your number one contributor to your hobbies. The house cleaner, the prostitute-" Derek continued flicking his fingers up to his thumb, where the gold ring he typically polished was intact, and sparkling clean.

"And thus, I've also noticed you've inherited quite a sum of money. I've come to ask you, politely, to step away from this, and come back."

And there was an or in that statement.

"Or I will just simply cut your access to the money. And all of your people here? They'll lose out, I'm sure."

[butterfly-hurricane]

Whatever words she said next would solidify the fate of the Lane. Ada made a few calculations as she felt Thomas' hand rest on her back, readying that strange magic she'd witnessed.

Things she knew? Derek only engineered situations that he would 'win' no matter the outcome. And without the money? The Other Her would be stifled expanding her influence-

But Carla had obviously been preparing for such inevitability. Dulcets. And she'd already heard from countless people that she'd paid them more than what they knew to do with.

Clever woman.

They could hold out a long time. Derek probably hadn't noticed much difference in his own account the way the ones used to being poor did.

Ada fixed him with a steely look and smiled a close-lipped, mirthless smile.

"Oh, Derek," she said in faux pity, "You do so love to break my toys. If I go with you, my people miss out anyway."

She jutted her chin out in defiance, keeping her eyes locked with the animal-like gold in Simmons' irises as she turned inward to 'Daud' - whom Derek was obviously jealous of- and placed her hand over his chest.

"We're both dead now," she corrects, "And it was a good game- but, in case I wasn't clear with my parting gift of C-virus, let me say this now: we're through. I don't care about your money."

"Cut. Me. Off."

[ruletheroost]

Hunnigan read through the information that she was digging up about the Inn, and frowned. A sleepy island off the coast, not too far from Golden Ward, with a single bus route that only serviced the trip to the ferry point at dawn.

The island itself was mountainous, with a single restaurant and general store, as well as an Inn that was central to everything. Apparently it was a popular destination for tourism, having a lot of scenic hiking trails.

Was that where people were going missing? Or was there something more happening with the Inn?

Ingrid was about to pull on the earpiece to share the updated information, when a glance at the camera views made her freeze. Eyes widening, she watched as a taller man with a broad build, heavy creases around the face, light brows, dark hair, and a well trimmed moustache and goatee, clad in a white suit with a golden ring set on his thumb approached the entry.

He wasn't alone either.

"Shit-" she swore to herself before tapping on her earpiece, "All eyes on the lobby and hold positions. Rook, be careful, I see Simmons."

[checkandmate-deactivated2026021]

"What?"

That cold feeling of adrenaline built up behind his skull in one fell swoop, and Leon Kennedy moved from out in the open, to a nook of the wall he could press against and cut line of sight off from any immediate persons. He checked his corners, patrons. If Simmons decided to kill everyone in here? He could. Immediately.

"Shit. Helena, on me. We gotta move."

Leon peered around the wall and moved, keeping his firearm low. Aiming in a crowd was a bad fucking idea. Might be why he picked here and now.

Not only why. Those announcements, the living data. Fucking everything was public in this place.

"He makes any aggressive move we have to take this outside. This guy's gonna tear the whole building down!"

[withourtraces-deactivated202602]

There was the immediate tension that fell over everyone on the communications chain, and Thomas paused his hand in the middle of signing the first statement. He signed stop below eye level, and then go to office.

His focus was sharp now. Something was very wrong with this target. As he was "Daud", he couldn't afford to be anyone else. Just like Ada couldn't afford to be anyone but "Ada".

This man looked like a noble, that was for sure- hell, even a Dunwall noble with the asymmetric trim of the vest on his body, and the coat on his back. Everything he wore was white, and starkly contrasted the space around him, while the men he traveled with wore similarly gentile clothes. Suits that blended in with the dark. Thomas counted seven among the party, including this white wearing man.

When he entered, the rest of the patrons paid him no mind, as eccentric as the rest of them. The girl in the back kept dancing.

This man held a look around him that was aloof, and empty, a wrinkle of amusement in him at the display of it all. All these gestures, playing like she was an invulnerable kingpin? Thomas took one look at the man and knew above all, he'd set this building on fire with everyone inside without a second glance.

Nothing immediate told him this, but that look of disinterest in swathes of people was very, very familiar.

Thomas's tongue tingled even behind the mask, a filter he'd put in releasing a canary call. A chemical the seafaring Whalers used to test venomous fumes in the air- he hadn't tasted it in a long time.

Quietly, he muttered, "Poison in the air."

This man in white approached them, stepping through the mulling crowd and having eyes for nothing else.

"Ada Wong," he said, "My, you have been busy."

Thomas looked to her for direction.

[dishonoredknife]

At Thomas' behest, and against everything that tugged on him to stay, Daud nodded once, and then vanished to the entry way of the office.

Something bad was happening- he could tell by the look on Ingrid and Helena's faces.

He tugged his hood down with both hands, and then lowered the scarf from his face. In a quiet voice he asked:

"What's going on?"

Only to be gestured to join Hunnigan around the desk where she was watching the screen of her laptop, and fiddling with a separate earpiece to hand over to him.

"Put this on-" she said in a soft whisper.

He hadn't taken his from the Butterfly equipment room- he hadn't seen the point when he was the only one left. But he acquiesced and joined her behind the desk to watch whatever had her worried.

She pointed to the man in white, and a single word had him tensing his knuckles over the polished wood of the desk surface:

"Simmons."

[butterfly-hurricane]

Ada sharply turned her head to the lobby at Hunnigan's warning, and locked eyes with the man traipsing through the Broken Butterfly accompanied by a retinue of heavy bodied, suited men.

Of course she could tell by the demeanor and the way his entourage carried themselves that they were armed, and armed well. Thomas had warned her there was poison in the air- and she steeled herself to detect it.

The smell Derek carried with him was sickly sweet and foul, the undercurrent of rot undisguised, even through the layers of expensive cologne and aftershave.

He looked just like the hologram of the man the Other Her had hid behind when she invited Ada to make her choice about the fate of the world.

But with the awful smells, and unusually heavy footsteps, and people next to- and behind- him, this was no hologram.

Ada wrinkled her nose with distaste that she didn't bother to hide, and placed her hand upon her hip.

"Derek. I was wondering when you would show up to ruin the honeymoon," she retorts, venom on her tongue, "What do you want?"

[headlesshydra]

"I figured if I gave her my phone for a bit she could play games but she wound up pushing buttons." She scoffs, it's an extremely familiar tone she carries, looking down at her younger self again for a moment while she wanders off to the side and climbs onto the giant couch, taking her backpack off and pulling out a small handheld game device to distract herself with.

"So- That's me at about 9 years old. She was here like 3 months ago, chased her all over the golden ward before Legato found her. because she's here, though, I actually know what Inn they're talking about." She nods, pointing behind her with her thumb. "It's an Inn on the western outskirts of the city, along the water. I've only been there once, helping out another friend, but I really didn't like the vibe of it and wound up leaving before going deeper in."

"I think there's a bus that goes out that way, but, who knows if it's still running." she shrugs, rubbing her arm "We got any kind of big transportation we can use? I gotta find some place for her to hang out while I'm gone if we do- it feels dangerous as all hell."

[checkandmate-deactivated2026021]

"Geez, phones already?"

She'd texted him when it happened the first time, and he tried to take everything absurd now with a grain of salt. He mulled over the strangeness of it, and stood from his spot on the couch, moving through a veritable crowd of people eager for the performance, and to finally be let in to see their escorts and romp in the many facilities they had available.

Most of it wasn't his taste. Then again, he'd always been more of a loner.

"Western outskirts of the city. Alright. So we got a general location and somebody who knows where we're going. You probably should've left her back at your place."

This place felt some kind of dangerous under the surface- though, he couldn't pinpoint why.

"Dunno, I got a bad feeling about this place. Think we can call her a cab and get her out of here with a friend?"

Leon checked corners again, searching for any source of that strange, bad feeling. Seeing nothing, he cleared his throat.

"Hunnigan, do you have a lock on Daud? Think you could call him?"

[ruletheroost]

The Inn was on the western side of the city, a bus route and along the water.

That was enough information for her to start narrowing down the Inns the announcement spoke of. She clacked away on her keyboard finding, isolating her search until there was only one likely match.

"Thanks, Helena. Looks like this place is just called 'The Inn', and it's on a small island only accessible by boat. There seems to be some rumors circulating about the place..."

She adjusted her earpiece, to acknowledge Leon, "I can try to give a call. No guarantee he's going to pick up."

But she tries anyway... and as expected, straight to voicemail, even as he blipped from one part of Golden to another. "Daud, it's Hunnigan. We have some information on where everyone may be held. Please call back when you have the chance."

Ingrid hangs up and sighs, "... Some of those rumors involve permanent vanishing. Kind of like what's been happening in the lane. Others involve delirium. Nothing I can immediately identify though, I'll have to dig deeper into the nearby mental health facilities."

[withourtraces-deactivated202602]

Thomas settled himself within arms' distance of Ada. Though his reach was limited in distance, he could ensure that she was safe. Whether or not she was Daud's girl didn't matter. The fact that she was playing "Ada", or was, or whatever convoluted semantics they wanted to do for them? That mattered.

"He won't answer the phone. He has a priority. He's not going to change it unless it's disturbed."

Thomas exhaled through the respirator, a quiet sight that traveled through the mics. Daud himself was a constant presence in the Broken Butterfly, and his ability to phase in and out of existence was well feared and respected in equal measure. Each display of it in public was a reminder that anywhere, some time, he could appear, and disappear someone within the blink of an eye.

"Let me try to get him. He should have one of these devices if we are supposed to be guarding you."

Thomas took a shallow breath, cinching the muscle in his palm and willing that bead of pure cold to slither through his veins. It was a quiet gesture, innocuous, and miss able, but weighty all the same as Thomas pulled on the tether that connected them.

Daud.

[butterfly-hurricane]

Ada strutted a little closer to the masked man. 'Thomas' she had learned was one of Daud's from before- and now playing as him, best he could.

It was an open secret how much her counterpart favored her rugged, vanishing and reappearing bodyguard. Keeping up appearances was integral, so far be it from her not to sell the act.

Even if Thomas himself wasn't showing his face, the blade at his side spoke well enough. It was the blade that Daud had been using nearly the entire time being in Spirale, and it was the blade that everyone would recognize from the duel that took place on the beaches of Golden.

Something that had escaped containment from the small corner of the internet it was posted on. And not her doing, either.

"He should," she agreed, "One track mind can be dangerous going in blind."

It wasn't doubt in the capability, but it was a tool that he should be taking advantage of.

She distracted people away from... whatever Thomas was doing, playing with niceties, polite refusals, confirming schedules... taking note of favors asked and concerns brought to her attention.

They really treat her like a little queen here.

[ruletheroost]

"To be tested, but it seems like I can comfortably get hold of anyone within the city, and a little outside of it too."

She was watching the marker she had to represent Daud, nicknamed 'Nightcrawler' move across Archimedes ward. The marker would go steady, moving slowly and smoothly across the screen, before blipping into another location.

That strange, comic bookish power.

"If Helena pulls through on that house, I can spend more time building what I need, but I'm not investing in a permanent set-up until then."

"And until then-" she emphasizes, "We're making due with my science fair prizes."

Another pause. She looked over the people they had trackers for, taking inventory on the people she had in her system. 'Condor 1' for Leon, overlapping with 'Grouse' for herself (she couldn't exactly be 'Roost' without her own office), and 'Rook' changing out in a dressing room nearby. Notably missing...

"I think there may be something more going on, too. I haven't heard from our Mallard, and her marker isn't showing up either."

[checkandmate-deactivated2026021]

"Great. Can't believe we let the guy go without a earpiece. I kinda doubt he would've swung by to pick it up though."

Leon blew the bangs out of his face from crumpled posture, checking his corners one more time before standing up with a stretch and re-adjusting the collar of his coat. The place still had a chill to it despite the activity. It was the prime night for the week. There were plenty of interesting people in all directions. Leon took note of the more outstanding ones, and the ones that faded out of perceptions.

Part of the charm of looking like a nobody was looking like he was meant to be sullenly admiring what the "Other Ada" was peddling.

Pimp was a strange choice for a career, but he could see the kind of reach she was having. Whatever "Other Ada" was doing on the side had this specific couple of blocks by the balls.

"Hey- Rook, you about ready to hit the floor? We got a couple of people looking for you seems like."

@butterfly-hurricane

[butterfly-hurricane]

Ada cut the hairdryer when she was addressed, and then curled her fingers through her strands to feel the new smooth straightness of them.

She hadn't bothered straightening her hair, or dying it, since it started to curl at the ends and gray with her age.

But as she was looking at herself in the mirror, she looked like a passably younger version of herself. She could spot a few places that needed touch up- and grabbed a concealer to handle it.

"Can't rush perfection, Condor 1," she replies, dabbing at the corner of her eyes with the stick, "And I seriously doubt the Madame of Webs and Wings entertains an audience with everyone that's looking for her."

It would ruin the mystique. Or so she tells herself.

But at the same time, the Other Her had gone through great lengths to make sure she was seen at her own event for the Year End Feast, barely able to conceal how ill she was.

"I'll be done in a sec-" Ada concludes, putting away her concealer, and taking two steps back from the mirror.

One last glance at her ensemble- black leather pants, red cropped halter top and blue bolero with a black choker, nails filed clean and short.

Ready to join the rest of the cast.

She walks out of her dressing room, walking out among the denizens of the Broken Butterfly as the 'Ada Wong' they knew.

[butterfly-hurricane]

What does your Galaxy look like?

[dishonoredknife]

Daud had been pulled in to the arrangement for multiple reasons. First, and foremost, the targeted nature of the body's placement in between the union of merchants in the Crimson Lane was a pretty nasty message to the Madame of the Broken Butterfly- and that message extended to the woman that shared her face, and was near identical to her.

Second, Daud himself had experience in mortuary sciences from the extent of time he spent at the Academy, and his own pursuit of learning between killing jobs. While he himself thought little of his own contributions in light of at least a one hundred and fifty year gap of medical knowledge, it never hurt to have someone steady with a knife, and a third pair of eyes.

As he understood it, they all had different sensory perceptions anyway.

His Ada instructs them to dress appropriately for dealing with pathogens, and they all switched into scrubs and gloves with masks.

This was his first time seeing the body as well.

Daud pulled the gloves securely around his fingers, quietly noting the cyanotic features and the waxy gray cast of death. A bullet to the brain, and to the heart.

"Alright," he stated, hands at his side, "Did we ever find out if she belonged to any of the other houses here? Or if she worked independently?"

@lanshiang -> @butterfly-hurricane

[lanshiang-a]

"She's one of the White Peach girls past the train. I pulled her client list as a favor from the pimp there after I found syphilis. No surprise, a ton of them had chancres and had to be treated, unless they want to track it like mud around the Lane. None of them Porters themselves. However someone was paying her a lot of money trying to get her to come to me and work."

And do what? Spy, she thought. She encouraged it so she could plant spiders on them and track exactly where they went. It was part of the idea on hiring so many more individuals without extensive background checks. They needed information quickly after this. What better way to perform a little counterespionage of her own?

Carla took a pair of longer cavity tongs and pulled back the dissection Y. She wasn't a forensics analyst, nor was she in the business of finding causes of death in official capacity, but it would take an idiot not to recognize the wound at the trocar puncture site, and the strange pattern of expansion from the point. Carla had removed the innards and organs, the stomach in particular so full of ulcers that it had to be particularly painful.

Inside, just at the sternum, was a circular pattern of wounds that laced outwards. It was as if something rapidly expanded, contracted, like a wire pattern. It wasn't a natural pattern, and it had been post mortem, but it seemed to be what kept her completely dead.

"Enki confirmed, no life, and no soul if you believe in that, in this body at all."

The body smelled strongly of embalming, the scent of rot just not present at all. It was gummy-textured, and had been kept too long. If she had the proper solution, she would've kept it longer.

"Her infection was so violent that her stomach was built up with ulcers, and there wouldn't be a chance of holding anything down. Recombinent syphilis is immune to some treatments. She might've been a target to turn into an information agent for this reason."

@butterfly-hurricane -> lanshiang

[butterfly-hurricane]

Ada clips her hair out of her face, listening to the briefing on the victim. The woman was part of the White Peaches, a name that she tucked away for later. She was infected by recombinent syphilis, which made her frown.

Of course, a promise to relieve the pain from something incurable by most accessible means would make her a good tool.

"That begs the question why she was killed all of a sudden, when she hadn't even the chance to gather information."

The pain? Did she make more sudden demands? Or did someone gather the information that the Porters needed first, and the woman knew too much?

Ada took a gloved hand to examine the wire-like markings inside the cavity. "I don't think I've seen markings like this," she says, "There was something clearly inserted here- but I don't see any traces of metal, or any other material in these lines. And electrical markings aren't typically so neat."

Ada looked to the bowls of other organs sitting near the slab, "Have we found any similar markings in any other organ? Or checked inside of them?"

@lanshiang -> @dishonoredknife

[checkandmate-deactivated2026021]

"Yeah I'm seeing that. Saddler used something similar with infected. doesn't seem like it's vibrations though. Never met this other guy-"

The fight is a long one, and definitely a show of skill above anything else. He watched with a quiet "thanks" at the soup, idly picking at some of the floating vegetables with a spoon before making his final judgements on that one. He had to get a few fights in with Daud, with a knife. He had no idea if the geezer had any experience with short combat blades. His own weapon of choice was a longer one, but he handled it was a reversed grip, similar to his own Sacred Snakes blade.

"- Nooo-" his wine was commandeered, and he let it go with a wave of his hand.

"Believe it or not, I got in a duel with about a hundred lilliputians with wings, and apparently I was supposed to go home, and drink this wine to be un-cursed."

He needed to get back to normal work. Infiltration, and even sewer crawling. Pixies were about the limit of his patience, even though he was liable to just say "sure" while not knowing what the hell was going on.

When he got his wine back, he conceded it, and rose to get himself a second glass, and pour some to top off the first.

"Find anything interesting out?"

[butterfly-hurricane]

"A couple things," she says, handing the glass of wine back with a coy grin, "Glad to hear that this wine can un-curse you. I'll need it from the cursed chair that I won at auction and was subsequently stolen."

She pauses the conversation to point back to the screen, "Watch this part-" as the fight drew to the inevitable conclusion.

A different power from Balduran, one that made the crisp video pixelate, and audio distort briefly as the wave of odd energy washed over Daud. When the image cleared and audio quality restored, there were murmurs of surprise, and Daud standing unfazed, before blinking and sending Balduran down with a sturdy kick to the back.

"I'm curious to find what that was all about," she states, "But yes, I found plenty of interesting things out."

Ada lets him poke at the soup, and takes back her phone to show him pictures she'd taken of people at the venue.

"Enki Ankarian, doorman and bookman for her venue. She has another bodyguard named Cahara. All of them are cautious about these 'Porters', and there was one sniper that was sent for her that this Balduran ended up taking out."

"They're holding that mystery body at the clinic. I'm going over there next week to conduct examinations. We have a truce, so you don't need to worry so much."

[butterfly-hurricane]

@lanshiang

One week.

Ada stood outside the clinic she was directed to, wearing a long tan trenchcoat, simple black pumps, black gloves, black sunglasses with rounded rectangular frames that obscured most of her features, and a red scarf over her hair. An earbud rested underneath, her operator listening through.

Ada walked into the clinic, scanning for her contacts for this unusual arrangement: Carla- whom she resolved to refer to as 'Ada' until something else could be figured out, and her bodyguard, Daud.

Once she saw them, she cleared the entry way, and took off her glasses to hook over her lapel, and slid the scarf down around her neck, and tucked into her coat.

"I'm here," she says, adjusting the wrist of her glove, "Let's take a look."

[checkandmate-deactivated2026021]

"Sorry, I had a dance of my own."

And it was a strange one at that. Each and every run he'd been making for The Merchant yielded it's own weird adventure with the potential to be subject to strange powers. The latest? Fairies. Fae were something by rights, he should not be fucking with, and here he was, fucking with Fae for some specific frosted-over flower bulbs. When he'd returned to 119, it was with a burlap sack and a thousand little cuts over him with a thousand tiny swords.

"- hey I'm great with crowds. Sometimes."

Leon Kennedy straightened up from being bent over the bar table in the apartment, alternating water and a glass of red, curse breaking wine like a sommelier. He'd won fair and square against a bunch of pixies... which may not have meant much.

Ugh, he had to get out of here, and back to work.

Ada, now a surprise and constantly in his orbit, swung by often, using the place to hunker down in to avoid detection, and maybe for a little pro-tection as well.

She set the phone in front of him, and Leon watched with a wrinkle at the corner of his mouth, a smirk that started and then broke into a grin. Daud's doing some crazy shit.

"See? Told you. He does the Nightcrawler thing. I gotta get this guy in a ring with a blade. I haven't been sitting entirely on my ass."

[butterfly-hurricane]

"I know you haven't-" she replies, setting out the soup for him, and grabbing a spoon so he can eat.

His hands hand small cuts on them, which she rolled her thumb over, leaning around to watch the video she recorded as well.

"I saw-" she chirps, "The other man, Balduran, uses some kind of power as well. I think it's meant to push him."

She indicates the rippling, purplish air on the screen, cast over the older man digging his heels in before he vanishes and reappears behind.

It's a long fight as far as fights go, and it certainly wasn't for lack of skill on either part.

"Oh, I'd love to see you get into the ring," she says, stealing his wine from him, and taking a sip of the red, "It's not every day you get to cross blades with someone that actually comes from a place with swordsmanship."

[butterfly-hurricane]

@checkandmate

"You missed a good party." Ada chirped as she entered House 119, carrying a large bag of to-go containers in one hand with her phone in the other, the strap of her purse in the crook of the same arm. She crossed the threshold, nudging the door closed behind her with her foot, and entered the space proper.

She lifted her arm to set her purse down on the hall table, then kicked off her heels before taking her bag of containers over to Leon, the remnants of the four courses served at the Year End Feast.

"I know how you are with crowds, though, so I brought you back the best parts. I did everything I set out to do, and a little more." Ada started pulling out the courses packed away in aluminum containers, spreading them out on the table, and set her phone down in front of him.

"We should watch this together. You're roommate's impressive."

[thiefandlyre]

Something in him rubs uncomfortably against the idea of working with someone. While he'd worked as a bard, performing in taverns and playing the occasional wedding or party, it was very different than partnering directly with another person as an equal. For so long, it had only ever been him and his Lute. Any allies, even treasured ones, had been temporary.

Octavo can hear it now, its voice rising up like a bubble from the bottom of a deep, dark well. It has to be you, and only you. Nobody else understands what you do. Nobody else has seen the things you've seen. I am the only tool you need, and once we're back together, you won't need to humiliate yourself by taking orders from anyone.

"I will... need to think about it," he finally says, fidgeting with his locket and glancing away from her face. "How can you even be certain such an enterprise will work in a place like this?"

[butterfly-hurricane]

"Take all the time you need," Ada assures, "I'll check how you feel when I already have a job lined up."

Something tangible was better bartering than hypotheticals and empty promises.

Ada leaned back against the wall, smirking, "I'm confident. Because from what I gather, despite the apparent diversity of people and worlds..."

The spy tilted her head.

"... all the sentients seem to have the same behaviors, patterns, and pitfalls. The same heirarchies, too. Same old stories, just different tools to go about it."

[lanshiang-a]

Things changed, Derek was gone in the world, and the Family was out of power. Things changed and the world kept turning. There were more mutants in the world, less definition of what human really was, and change was happening. She hadn't done what she had done out of a perverted sense of justice, at least, that is what she kept telling herself. She wouldn't make excuses for any of the crimes she had committed, because she had no excuse.

She just wanted to do something. Ada misunderstood it- or... maybe she didn't.

Now, with time to think, she's not sure she even knew herself the extent of why she did the things she did. Being "out of control" was putting it mildly. The way this conversation went put her in a position of disadvantage. She couldn't gain a foothold forward or hold any weight in it besides an alliance.

The fact of the matter was they were both prey animals to the kind of people that were targeting Crimson Lane for exploitation.

Ada crossed her arms over her chest, straight backed, and matching that look to her.

"Fine. You said you would help me, so help us."

Us, not me.

"I have the body, yes. And I've been watching for that, too. They're taking advantage of the pervasiveness of cameras in the space. So, meet me next week at the clinic in the Lane if you're serious."

[butterfly-hurricane]

"Of course, I'm serious."

Ada lets her arms fall to her side. She could be catty and playful about a lot of things, she had a tendency to hold herself aloof- but this was not one of those times.

Ada had often wondered how things might have been different if she'd gotten to her earlier. If she was there just moments sooner. It was fruitless to dwell on what-ifs, and she knew that, but she could not help wondering.

Things did change because of her, though. She had a chance to help now.

Her shoulders fell as she exhaled, visibly relieved.

"I'll help you," she reiterates, "I'll help your people here."

Ada takes a final glance over the two guards, appraising their behaviors and body language, eyes flickering between men who were curious, and maybe a little apprehensive- not just about her, but the situation.

"Clinic," she repeats, "Next week. I'll see you then."

[charmingsecretary]

"See, that's the problem. We usually don't know about these world-threatening events until they start being... well, threatening! One day, you'll be happily minding your own business in Dream Land... and then the next day, dark hearts will start falling from the sky!"

"We should really invest in an astronomy program." When will Astronomer Waddle Dee come home? "Or even a dimensional wormhole research facility, since that's happened multiple times."

"But yes, I would say it's a fairly charmed life aside from those instances." In that regard, it's not much different than here. "The air is clean and the grass is green, and that's just the way we like it!"

[butterfly-hurricane]

"Well, I can safely say that this is my first inter-dimensional foray."

...

Maybe.

Now that she thought about it, she did have very strange dreams about different places and creatures, similar to this- the kind of dream she could swear felt so real before waking... but there wasn't any point thinking about it right now.

Ada paused a moment, "Do you think there's any research centers here to take advantage of? Any special place a spy-for-hire could use to get her bearings in such a strange place?"

[lanshiang-a]

The hit to her core was fast as hell incoming. Her other self took all of the power she had into that strike for a hit to cut their dance short and escape. Connecting it crushed into her sternum with enough force to stifle her focused breathing. Blunt force pain stung at her eyes and radiated from her sternum. The only option to withstand a hit like that was to move with it so she wasn't completely knocked out. Carla bent her body into the kick and guided the motion with an intercepting catch of her hands.

Carla had herded them into the main thoroughfare, directing the flow of their attacks. The last time they had met, she had been out of her mind. The last time the test already had a predetermined outcome.

The long body of the passing train was roaring next to the main street.

Ada had snared a bludgeoning piece of wood from a factory's construction refuse with an elegant weight change on her feet. And the incoming swing was far less elegant, cracking her along the side, hitting her arm before it hit her rib.

It was such a hard hit that it scrambled her thoughts completely, the wood snapping on impact with her body. Pain was a brutal teacher, and it was only by virtue of the hours she had spent on defense in these past months, that she stepped back enough to not have a bone snap.

Carla let out a snarling cry, snatching her wrist and stifling any counter attack to doing so by striking Ada hard enough to push her back once, and without telegraphing it next, she kicked with a quick snap to send her closer to the boundary line beside the roaring train.

Action: Carla unarmed strike: high roll, success Bonus action: unarmed strike: high roll, success

Note: Carla's stepping forward and pushing her back in an attempt to get Ada clipped by the passing train.

[butterfly-hurricane]

Ada stumbled back, sliding her leg behind her to brace, and momentarily froze when the roaring of the horn deafened her, and the rattling cars created wind across her back.

Too close. Much too close.

Ada was at a disadvantage. She didn't know how Carla fought- she never got the chance to actually fight when she had control of her faculties. This close to the tracks, another sore memory cropped up- the chase through Lanshiang's market and the train tracks by Sweetheart, the mutant with her heart encased in a bone cage, and gear-like teeth making a chainsaw.

Ada didn't want to have to put her down. She wasn't here to put Carla down, either.

Ada grit her teeth in frustration. She was suddenly missing her hookshot very much. This terrain was too much of a disadvantage, and Carla was proving tricky to pin down, which left Ada with only one acceptable option: escape.

She threw the remainder of the broken pallet slat in her hand, and used it as her cover to propel forward, tucking into herself to somersault forward, clearing underneath Carla's guard, and propelling straight into a run with the added momentum.

"Ciao!" she called out, not sparing any time to look back.

The spy did a quick assessment. Going back the way she came wasn't an option- she had to cross the canal to get back to the central part of Golden Ward.

The closest way to cross? A rickety old crane gantry was the only thing that bridged both sides. Stability was questionable, but it would have to do. She leapt up the rungs on the side, not breaking her momentum.

Turn 6: Ada Action disengage, throws the rest of the pallet slat at her: result: hit.

Note, going to start climbing the gantry

[thiefandlyre]

Octavo narrows his eyes a little, ears flicking back like a wary cat's. While he could try to argue, ask her if she had some sort of chair-sensing ability, would there really be a point? It wasn't a good lie in the first place. Why wouldn't he have it in his apartment if he'd kept it? If she wasn't going to fight him for it, he didn't see a point in trying to keep up the act.

He decides he will simply... not say anything about it! If she believes he has it, then she can go on thinking that.

"If I were to agree to join you, what would be the benefit over just... stealing things myself?" he asks, reaching up to fidget with the ruby pendant around his neck. "No walls can keep me out. I can take almost anything with me that I can touch."

Of course, teleportation had its limits, ones she might know more about if she made a good enough case. It would not do to grow too attached to this prison, no matter how fun the heists were.

[butterfly-hurricane]

"Well, let me clarify before we talk about benefits," she says.

Ada glances to the apartment number he emerged from: 305. Not far from where she was, and if the trends she'd discovered held true-

"You're new here, too," she says.

No questions. Anything she said wouldn't be framed as a question so that any deniability from her mark would take considerably more effort than mere deflection.

"Which means, magic or no magic, neither of us are at our fullest potential. I don't have my equipment, and you likely don't have the capability to do what you were doing before."

She placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head with an amused expression, "And I can't help but notice you said 'almost' anything you touch, you can take with you. Which means that 'not everything' you touch can be taken with you. You're very aware of your limitations- but I don't blame you trying to get a better deal in a bad situation. Anyone would." "Now, the benefits in question. I don't use magic, that's true, but most of my skill set is in networking and information gathering. I've stolen plenty. I've also bought and sold hard to get items, contraband, weapons... and fenced plenty more. I can get in with anyone, anywhere. Sometimes with an invitation, and sometimes, I make my own. Any jobs we do together? Keep whatever you can take for yourself, and I'll divvy the cuts evenly." "It's entirely up to you," she affirms, "You can keep the chair, regardless. You really put on a good show, I have to admit. So, you've earned it."