tampered | log; ongoing

log; ongoing

When; Sept. 1, afternoon
Rating; PG-13 for possible swearing
Characters; Elle Bishop (

ellectroshock), Firo Prochainezo (

camoerrista), Luck Gandor (

favorsthebrave)
Summary; Firo has powers, and Elle's curious. Luck's there to make sure she doesn't do anything funny, but we'll see how that goes.
Log;

The little immortal boy. Firo Prochainezo. Elle didn't think too much of him. He looked like he got stuck in a bad mafia movie and never got unstuck, but she'd done her research, rooting through his old entries to find out a bit about him. Hadn’t taken too long, since she knew her stuff. Now she was sitting on a bench by the basketball courts, waiting for him to show up. Lightly, she sent a jolt through the metal trash can a couple feet away, idly swinging her foot. There weren't that many people around, and that was exactly why she'd chosen this place.

This Firo Prochainezo didn’t have the same ability that Pom-pom and Adam did, though it was pretty close. Pom-pom and Adam bled. She’d seen enough of that for herself. This new power was different. This new power gave immortality and super healing powers, but blood also just flew back into the body, and limbs reattached themselves. So it wasn’t rapid cellular regeneration, but it was rapid something. Didn’t matter, really.

Elle wondered how that worked. Back in the Company, she’d done her own experiments on the prisoners, though sometimes she had to wait until her daddy turned his back. Usually he didn’t mind too much, since she was careful to keep it safe when he was around. But now Daddy was gone and there was no Company anymore, but there were still people with powers around. After all, Elle was just a Company girl, even here.

She really did only want to talk to him. His power wasn’t that different from Pom-pom’s, anyway. But if she could, yeah, she also kind of did want to poke at him, prod him, see how much he could take before he broke. That was why she had a taser in her pocket, just in case.

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Usually people would stay away once they sensed something funny was up with the person they're about to meet.

Apparently, Firo wasn't one of those types.

With both hands in his pockets, he made his way with Luck towards the basketball court. What she had told him about her father's company, accompanied by her curiosity about "seeing what he can do" bothered him. Luck had warned him about becoming an experiment of sorts, but he still wanted to confirm what her true intentions were in-person. And possibly stop whatever she's planning, because quite frankly, it's more than likely that Luck was right and that she was a little more than simply curious about his abilities.

Anyway, if the encounter ended up going badly, he was pretty sure his fighting skills were more than enough to take her down.

He spotted her on one of the benches and smirked, stopping a few feet away from her, both hands still in his pockets. "So what did ya want from me again?"

Of course Luck was hardly going to let the matter go at warning Firo to be careful. He trailed a few steps behind and off to the side, sizing Elle up with cool, calculating eyes as the two of them approached the bench where she was waiting.

He said nothing yet - this was Firo's meetup after all, not his. He was only along as backup, and really not making any effort to be subtle about it, hoping that having two of them there instead of Firo alone would be enough to deter any bad ideas.

If not, well, he had his pistol holstered under the jacket of his suit.

At least the hangover from the night before was finally gone.

Fuck. His friend just had to come, didn't he? Elle already didn't like him, this Luck or somebody. It would have been so much easier for all of them if it was just Firo, but she could stick to the plan anyway. Even if she only had one shot in the taser, she was sure that her electricity could handle both of them. She'd dealt with bigger men than them, immortal or not. Two prettyboys like them weren't gonna stop her.

She stood up once they got closer. "Hi, I'm Elle," she said, her tone nothing short of nice. Okay, she was going to have to be careful with the serious-looking one, but she wasn't too worried. It was just questions now -- he couldn't have anything against questions. She smiled her most innocent smile. "You're Firo, right?"

She resisted the urge to run her hands over him. She could do that later, once his friend wasn't there anymore to make things go wrong.

Huh. She sounded friendly enough, he'll give her that. But the feeling of uneasiness still didn't leave him even as he tilted his chin slightly upwards and gave her an arrogant smile. Don't matter what you do, I could take you on, it meant, and he sure hoped she wasn't planning anything too odd. He would hate having to raise a hand against a lady unless it was absolutely necessary. He was pretty sure Luck would do something if she tried anything funny, too.

Speaking of Luck, maybe showing up with him without telling her wasn't exactly courteous (not that it mattered to him much), but that's what close friends—much like family—did: they helped each other out. So she would simply have to deal with it.

"Yep, that's right. So you wanted to talk, huh? Let's hear what ya have to ask, then."

For his part, Luck was content to keep his mouth shut for the time being. He stood by, providing strength in numbers, looking aloof and faintly disapproving and waiting to find out just want it was Elle wanted to know that the accidental broadcast to the Network the other day wouldn't already have told her. Watching for any suspicious moves.

Not that Firo wasn't capable of handling himself - more capable than Luck, if he were going to be honest about it - but still.

Aww, the little mafia boy wanted to play tough, didn't he? Cute, but it didn't faze her. "Do you cells regrow?" she asked, since she'd actually come up with a few questions beforehand. She glanced over at Luck. Still glowering, and it made her frown a little, but her grin came back into place soon enough. "Or does it always just come flying back?" she continued, making a gesture with her hands.

She widened her eyes slightly, waiting for an answer.

There's a short pause as he tried to recall the events of yesterday's curse. It was a wine cellar maze, which would have been alright if there hadn't been any traps lying around. Along the way, something had caught his arm, and before he knew it said arm had fallen onto the ground, completely sliced through. He remembered the shock that came shortly before the pain did, followed by the even bigger surprise as the entire arm flew back to reattach itself, blood drawing back to the openings, the skin reforming around the cut until the last drop of blood seeped back into the hole that soon closed off completely.

"Don't really know," he honestly replied, giving a light shrug. "Seems more like everything just drew itself back, like a magnet or something."

"I did tell you," Luck put in. His voice was calm and dry, and the expression with which he regarded Elle had become somewhat unimpressed.

And still wary. It didn't take a master strategist to guess that not being able to get conclusive answers to her question was going to make it all the more likely that she'd try for some further demonstrations. If Luck actually knew the answer himself, he'd have seriously considered just giving her the information. But there were a lot of things, after all, that he didn't really know about their immortality either.

"I'm not sure of the science of it," is the best he can say, "but as far as I've seen, everything simply goes back as it was."

Maybe she'd get Tom Hagen first, instead of innocent little Michael Corleone. Get that stupid expression off his face. Both of them were immortal, weren't they? But Hagen wasn't going to be as much fun.

"I knew some people back home who could do things like you two," she said, still maintaining her facade as a good Company girl. "Except theirs was a bit different." She paused, as if trying to think. It didn't help that Pom-pom was here, in this City, probably being her stupid perfect self. "They bled a lot," she said. "Stuff regrew, instead of flying back. Any of your kind do that?"

Plus, the "immortals" from home had this sweet spot right in the base of the skull, where one shot could take them out. She didn't know if mafia boys A and B had that Achilles' heel, too. Probably not, since the powers were different, but they had to have something. Elle was going to find out what that was.

Firo blinked. "Don't think so," he responded, wondering what she was trying to get at. "But I haven't exactly been payin' much attention; Been kinda busy feeling shocked while watching my chopped off arm mend itself back."

He watched her movements as he spoke, looking out for the faintest sign of an attack. So far though, there had been none. He would have wanted to tell himself that she was really just out for a talk, after all, but from past experiences things rarely turned out that way. Plus, he still couldn't shake away the gut feeling that she was big trouble.

Luck lidded his eyes slightly, continuing to look distinctly unimpressed with the entire line of questioning. "People usually prefer to avoid having pieces severed," he stated flatly. "It's an unpleasant experience. It's enough to know that the damage repairs itself."

Bored as he looked on the outside, he remained tense and wary. Nothing about the situation had done anything yet to assuage his suspicions. "Was there anything else that you wanted to know?"

Oh, yeah. Lots. She wrinkled her nose and shoved a hand into her pocket.

"So you're immortal against fights," she stated nonchalantly. "What about old age?" Adam was so old because his cells kept on repairing themselves. Elle didn't want to think about the mafia wannabes' dead skin cells flying back to their skin. The thing with the arm had been interesting. That would just be gross.

Huh. To be completely frank, Firo had no idea about that, either. Luck had mentioned earlier on that he was supposed to know more than the immortal Gandors and Martillos, and anyone else who'd drank that elixir of sorts, so maybe later on someone would have told him about what immortals were capable of.

But he wasn't really quite in that time frame yet, and he never bothered thinking about it after he'd discovered he was immortal due to that curse. In fact, he'd been only forced to think of it again now that Elle was asking him all these questions.

"I dunno. I'll send you a post card once I find out."

"You'll have to ask someone who's been immortal for more than a year," Luck added, very blandly.

He could have given a much better answer than that, of course. Never mind that he didn't have the all-but-encyclopedic understanding that Firo would gain - had gained - from devouring the old man; it was a subject which had occupied his thoughts quite a lot over the past year.

But then, Luck really wasn't feeling very cooperative at the moment.

"A postcard?" Elle repeated, holding both her hands out by her sides. "Cute." She bet the sarcasm rolling off her tongue matched both of theirs.

Hagen was really pissing her off right now, and she just wanted this to be over with. He wasn't even supposed to be here, anyway; it was just supposed to be her and Corleone, who was also kind of pissing her off. She could produce enough electricity to cause a blackout in an entire county and cause immortal Sylar to black out. Firo and Luck wouldn't be a problem. The two boys still felt pain -- Corleone had told her as much -- and she knew this was painful. They were watching for sudden movements, she could see that. But she didn't need any sudden movements to generate thousands of volts of electricity and send it hurtling towards them.

And so she did. "But not cute enough," she added with a shrug.

Well. He certainly wasn't expecting that.

He gave out a startled cry as the electricity hit him, which pretty much quickly turned into a pained scream, and all he could see were flashes of bright, white light. At the same time, he felt his body instantly repairing itself, but not quick enough to hide the burns that appeared on his arms and avoid the stinging, burning sensation he felt just about everywhere he can imagine.

Luck never had the chance to reach for his pistol before the electricity seared through him, and he gritted his teeth hard against a strangled cry of pain, muscles seizing, flesh burning inside and out.

On the bright side, if he weren't immortal, a shock that potent would almost certainly have killed him.

On the other hand, if he weren't immortal, he wouldn't have been in this position in the first place.

Let's hear it for immortality.

"So you were telling the truth," Elle murmured, not letting go of her power. Her tone was still full of innocence, though it had taken a distinctively more sadistic edge. "You do feel pain." She paused for a moment. "Nothing personal, Corleone."

After several seconds had passed, she frowned. Shit, they were still both conscious! That one guy in Ireland had been blackened by this point! She supposed it was due to their super immortality, but she couldn't have this. Gritting her teeth, she poured more power into her attack. Why didn't they go down?

Too late, she remembered that when she'd spent enough electricity to down Sylar, she'd knocked herself out, too. The wave of dizziness that passed through her forced her to stop for one brief moment. Nothing big, right? She couldn't have known that one brief moment was enough for her to lose the upper hand.

For some reason, the surge of pain suddenly stopped.

Firo dropped onto his knees, gritting his teeth. He quickly glanced up—he still hadn't completely reoriented himself, but he didn't actually have all the time in the world to. First and foremost, he had to take her down.

He smirked, skin regenerating over the last of the burn marks he received, and drew out his knife from behind. He didn't want to kill her, but he did want to at least wound her enough to get her to retreat.

"That all you've got?" he taunted as he pushed himself off the ground and charged at her, aiming for her arm.

"Enough."

The moment of reprieve was enough to let Luck draw his pistol. Wisps of smoke curled up from the grip where the hot metal seared his hand, then faded, the burns healing over as smoothly as if they'd never been. He didn't so much as flinch. He pointed the gun squarely at Elle, his aim remarkably steady for a guy who was just electrocuted, eyes hard and cold.

He didn't exactly want to kill her either, really... but if she didn't take the warning, he would.

As Corleone ran at her -- maybe he was in the mafia, after all -- Elle instinctively sent a burst of electricity up towards him. Shit, shit, shit. Hagen was pointing a gun at her. With her other hand, she aimed another blast towards the metal gun. She didn't know how much voltage would break the gun, but she could try.

And as she started sending off that blast, Firo's knife found its way into her arm.

Holy mother -- she hadn't remembered how much a knife wound hurt. But she grit her teeth and didn't cry out, since there was no way she was going to show any weakness in front of these two. And some of us aren't miracle-gro.

Firo's smirk widened as he managed to land a cut on her arm. So aside from the weird spouting-out-sparks thing, she wasn't really much of a fighter, was she? In that case, he just needed to find another opening before she could manage to use her powers again.

And he found that opening in the split second where she sent out a blast of electricity towards Luck. With his free hand, he reached out for her arm—the wounded arm—in an attempt to throw her over his shoulder and haul her to the ground.

Electricity leapt from Elle to Luck's pistol and coursed through the gunmetal into his hand and arm. He shuddered violently, gritting his teeth as his flesh burned again with an audible sizzle of skin against hot metal, and his finger closed convulsively on the trigger.

Bang.

At the last instant he managed to shift his aim downward and a little off to the side of where Elle and Firo were fighting, turning what could have been lethal into a warning shot.

Blood.

There was blood. Her attacks charred; they didn't draw blood, which meant that --

Dodge the hell out of Hagen's shot (bullets stung like a bitch). It went wide anyway. Grab the taser from her pocket and try to nail Corleone in the face. She pressed the trigger right as he grabbed her (bloody) arm.

Blood meant that she was alive.

Firo picked up on her move as soon as her hand went to her pocket. Almost on instinct, he jerked his head to one side to avoid the attack. He noticed some sparks emitting from the strange object she had just drawn.

Whoa, what was that?

But now wasn't the time for wondering. Damn, she really intended to fight back, didn't she? Maybe she'd get the hint if he did this.

"Ya gotta be quicker than that!" And as he said that, he twisted the arm he was holding, the force not strong enough to break any bones but with just enough pressure to make it hurt like hell, if the knife wound didn't already.

"You can't possibly think you can beat both of us." Luck's voice was calm, and as steady as his aim. He stayed back out of reach of the scuffle, sidestepping a bit to keep a clear line on Elle. Just playing backup. Firo could handle himself.

"Give it up. If you walk away now, we'll forget this ever happened."

He didn't really expect her to listen. They rarely ever did. But he liked to make the effort, in any case.

Son of a bitch. Elle swore as Firo twisted her arm, dropping the taser from her other hand. "You bet?" she asked, gritting her teeth at the pain. She wasn't going to show these bastards how much it hurt. She was tougher than that.

Firo's grasp on her arm was strong enough to prevent her from escaping, and moving any more hurt. It hurt too much to try to control where her sparks went. At least she didn't need her hands to maintain her power, though it was the easiest way. Glaring, she let the electricity course through her entire body, feeling it thrum as blood beneath her skin. If she could let this one go --

She couldn't let an assignment get the better of her. She couldn't. "I don't run."

Whoa, what? He knew she had a funny kind of power, but he didn't know she could do that, too.

He uttered out a cry of pain as the electricity coursed through his body. He gritted his teeth and tried to pry himself away from her. Shouldn't be hard, right?

Well. He was successful, essentially, though his sleeves were torn (more than they already were) and smoke still rose from his skin. But those weren't all the moves he knew, after all, and if he can't get her to give up by hurting her then he'd simply have to resort to other means.

The wounds from his skin vanished as he charged back at her, swinging his elbow out in an attempt to hit her at the base of her neck.

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log; ongoing

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