mason laughlin is the patron saint of bottoms. (primemover) wrote in invol_rpg, @ 2013-07-11 14:36:00 |
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Fuck. The single syllable repeated over and over in Fraser Wolfe's head, providing a rhythmic narrative to his skulking. Much of the compound's vehicle hangar had been destroyed in the bombing, but he knew one of the jeeps must still be functioning. Get out. Get away from the media. There's no way to spin this now, but there will be. Just need time to figure it out, plausible deniability, someone to blame... Can't stay, can't wait, the Vols will surely kill him... The frantic half-formed thoughts wheeled through his mind as he ducked from jeep to jeep, wild eyed, checking for one with keys in the ignition. He let out a triumphant hiss through clenched teeth as he found one, all but vaulting himself into the driver's seat of the military vehicle. The key turned, the engine revved, and he slammed his foot on the gas, wheeling the jeep around and pointing it at the open desert. There was still time... The jeep lifted off the ground, its wheels continuing to spin despite the fact that it wasn't actually going anywhere. "Where the fuck do you think you're going, huh?" Fraser Wolfe had been one of the more difficult team leaders after the IVF went sideways a few days ago. Unlike Silva or Li, he decided he was going to run. Mason Laughlin really didn't like the sound of that. So he spent the better part of a few hours using whatever resources--not that hard when you had Vols that could help you--he had to find the man. The telekinetic rocked the SUV back and forth within his grip. "Remember how when I first got here I couldn't even lift up a Mini Cooper without my nose bleeding. Now look at me, you should be proud." Wolfe blanched as his jeep started moving up instead of forehead, giving the wheel a few useless jerks before resigning himself to being trapped. He whirled in his seat, white-faced, looking for Andrew Parish. There was a hint of relief when he instead found his own personal telekinetic, though said relief was lost completely in a deep scowl. "Laughlin," He sneered, before being jolted back and forth by the rocking vehicle. "Put me down, boy." The words came out as a snapped command, before realizing he needed to get his temper in check, and smoothing out into a more diplomatic - if strained - offering. "We can work something out. I'll make sure they go easy on you when this all shakes down, I'll say you were on the right side." "Oh so I was on the side of the group that locked us up, experimented on us, and then fucking bombed us?" Mason snarled, not having any time for Wolfe's shit. IVI was going to hell and Wolfe was going to go with them. "All that and we're still standing. There should be more begging us to go easy on you." Wolfe's face hardened from a negotiating plea to a confrontational glare, "You may think things have gone your way today, boy, but this is a drop in the pond. There's way more of us than there are of you, and people will never trust anyone with your power. Be fucking reasonable, you've got to know that the only way to stop this from becoming all-out warfare is to work with us." Wolfe twisted in his seat to face Mason more fully, one hand raised, fingers splayed, calling for reason and understanding. The other hand, hidden by the seat, unclasped his gun. "Think, Mason. You're a little shit but you're a smart little shit. You need people like me if you're ever going to--" But he'd stalled for all the time he needed; in one fluid motion he pulled out his sidearm, levelled it at his attacker, and squeezed off six shots in rapid succession. None of them hit their intended target. The problem with shooting at someone with a power like telekinesis was his mind worked faster than his body ever could. Mason lowered his hands as well as the telekinetic barrier. "Guess I've been holding out on you, teach." He might have had a smirk on his face, but his eyes were a mixture of anger and surprise that Wolfe could and would try something like that. With another quick motion he tore Wolfe from his seat and held him suspended in the air in his telekinetic grasp. He let the jeep drop back to the ground. "Attempted murder. You're going to pay for that and everything else you've done here. You can trust me on that." Wolfe's face went pale again as his final, desperate move failed, and he found himself suspended in midair as the jeep crashed below him. He turned his wild eyes to his captor, looking defeated. "Fuck." |