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One Pill Makes You Larger... (IC)


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"Some bum went and threw up on me outside. " Slick replied, walking up to them.

"Needless to say, I gave him a good seeing to, the scum. I could sure use a new set of clothes, however. Like yours, for instance..."

As Slick walked towards them, his muscles tensed, ready to unleash a KO blow...

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The guard didn't see Slick's strike coming. While he was still trying to process what "Bill" meant, the blow caught him right in the neck, sending him to the ground. As his cohort reached for the walkie-talkie, Dragonfly caught him right in the stomach with a blast of energy, knocking him out before he could even open the channel.

"Well, that'll do it," Cannonade said. He pressed a button, calling the elevator down. The three heroes slid in as the doors closed behind them and the elevator ascended.

When the doors opened again, they found themselves in an impromptu lab. Computers were set up on folding tables, medical equipment was stacked on top of shelves, and notes were strewn across the tables. It looked like someone had gone through the place in a hurry. Muffled voices could be heard through the closed door at the other end of the room.

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Dragonfly scanned the files on the computer, digging up whatever she could on the compound. A series of files caught her attention -- a chemical make-up test, consisting mainly of neurotransmitters. Serotonin, Substance P, dopamine, GABA... but there was one term that caught her attention: "metapeptide." She began to browse the files for more info on "metapeptide," and found a file entirely on the material.

There was a "Subject M" that had been checked into County General due to an "uncontrollable manifestation." Apparently, she had adaptive qualities to her physiological makeup that she hadn't entirely been able to pin down. A spinal tap had found that the main source of the transmutations was the neurotransmitter, which had been unseen in other metahumans.

From here, the files went from the formal, medical journal style into a style more befitting a personal journal. The writer said that different stimuli presented different chemical makeup. The transmitter was ready for human testing, and hopefully "Subject M" could produce as much as was necessary...

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Slick felt his blood boiling, and his skin turned a dark red.

"What's this stuff. WHAT ARE THEY DOING?" She shouted. With a grunt of rage, he slammed his fist against the wall, leaving a small dent. "Godamn it! This is wrong!" He marched towards the other door, and this time subtle was clearly off the menu.

"I'm going to find out exactly what's happening here, and they are going to pay. "

And with those icy steel words, he flung the door nearly off its hinges.

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Cannonade, meanwhile, rested his ear against the door, trying to hear what was going on on the other side.

"...you can't do this to me! After all I brought you --"

"What you brought us was a failure. Our men at County General say they brought in our first customer 10 minutes ago. Apparently his body couldn't deal with the changes. You have any idea what that kind of product could do to our rep?"

"It's just like any drug, it needs changes -- imagine what it could do if handled properly --"

"Well, we won't get that chance, will we? This screw-up was just too goddamn visible. No one's gonna want to buy this thing, and if they trace it back to here, they sure as hell aren't gonna want to buy it from us. We're done here."

"But --"

"And make sure the girl's taken care of. We can't bear to have her traced back to us."

Cannonade was about to punch down the door... when Slick came barreling towards him. He just dodged the amorphous heroine as she took down the door with one kick. As it clattered to the ground, four very surprised gangsters -- and one very frantic scientist -- looked up towards the doorway.

"What the --"

The scientist rounded on his associates. "I knew it!" he yelled. "A double cross! You were gonna take care of me, too!" He pulled something out of his pocket and downed it. "We'll see about that!" Suddenly, the room was filled with the smell of sizzling cloth and burning hair as the scientist started to smolder. He cackled as his clothing burst into flame.

"Jesus Christ!" yelled one of the gangsters. He then turned towards the heroes. "Get all the freaks!"

"Well, so much for subtle."

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Dragonfly turned away from the computers, looking through the now-open doorway at the surprised gathering inside. The gangsters were barely a distraction (scum - dealers - will get what they deserve in time); her attention was almost fully on the scientist, her face a shifting mask of disgust and rage...mostly rage. She didn't think it needed to be said, given Slick's reaction, but she said it anyway in a tone that could have been used to peel wallpaper: "No killing. But nobody leaves this room."

As her gauntlets lit up and her force field twisted into being, two of the room's monitors blew out.

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"You can't stop me!" yelled the scientist. "I am the pinnacle! The --"

"Would you shut the hell up?" Cannonade bellowed as he ran towards the gangsters. He brought himself just short of his initial target, driving his fist into the man's gut and sending him sinking to the ground in pain. "You really think you're gonna convince anyone not to kick you to the curb?" He took advantage of the moment and brought his fists to bear against the man next to him, who just managed to dodge his blow.

"Open up!" the gangster yelled, and he and his colleagues opened fire. Their bullets managed to hit home on Cannonade and Dragonfly, scraping against flesh and metal, but Slick managed to nimbly dodge the volley coming her way.

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"Pinnacle? Pinnacle?" control - difficult to keep cool - unpleasant parallels - took advantage of - sold - tempting to bring the building down on the lot of them Bullets were flying but she barely noticed; one made a sharp sound as it glanced off a gauntlet, while another hit her force field, zig-zagging in a mad blurry dash across its surface before spinning harmlessly away over one shoulder.

She lifted a hand and fired a shockwave at one of the remaining gangsters, missing by a mile without having the proper state of mind to aim. stupid - focus! - if you have to be angry channel it "Barely even a scientist. Not worthy of the title. Don't deserve it."

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"What do you know?" yelled the burning man. "You wear the trappings. I am the catalyst!" The fires around him licked and stirred, and coalesced into a bolt of flame. It lashed across the room, then exploded into a wave of flame and heat, washing over Dragonfly, Slick and the far end of the room. The walls began to smolder as the heat washed over them.

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Slick's blood was up. This was insane. Spinning on one foot, he put all her fury into a knockout blow on the thug that had tried to attack him.

"Fire! that's going to burn me badly!" he yelled, and to prove his point, his oily skin started to smoulder with an unpleasant odour.

Can't get to close to that flame she thought. But this can! she realised, as her hand closed around the heavy door she had kicked in and prepared to hurl it at the burning man.

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"On it," Cannonade yelled, but he was distracted by the thug blocking the distance between him and the burning man. He punched the man right in his jaw, but he somehow managed to stay on his feet. The gangster responded with a shot that went wild, glancing off an exposed girder.

"You will --"

The other gangster, scared out of his wits, turned his gun on the burning man. Between his nerves and the heat, the shot missed by a country mile. But it did draw the attention of the scientist.

"I knew it!" he yelled. "I knew it! Sell me out, will you?" He called up the flames once more, and turned the floor into a billowing lake of fire. The flames washed over Cannonade and his quarry, who managed to stamp them out before they did much harm, but the scientist's target lay on the floor, passed out from the pain with his jacket still smoldering. Cannonade brushed off the last stray flames from his jacket as he watched the scientist. This goes on much longer, the floor ain't gonna hold! And the people downstairs...

"Who's next?"

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The burst of flames were literally smouldering the oil on Slick's body, and it was only his quick thinking that put the metal door up as a shield against the bursts of flame.

Still enraged, Slick hefted the door and threw it with all his might like a frizbee at the burning figure.

He never played much frizbee. The door went clean over the human candle and smashed into the opposing wall.

"Ooops" he muttered.

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"You will --" Cannonade never found out what the scientist wanted Slick to do, as he lashed out at the burning man. The haze of flames and smoke must have distracted him, however, as the fists went passing through the fire, causing one of his sleeves to catch fire. He managed to smother the blaze almost as quickly as it started.

Meanwhile, the other gangster was obviously juggling the situation. Three of his friends were now unconscious. There were three heroes standing in his enterprise. And even if they failed, there was still the power-crazed pyrokinetic who viewed him as a Judas.

"...screw this," he said as he ran for the elevator.

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Dragonfly's mind, through the anger, whirled as the fire blew towards her. The math told her that her force field wasn't designed to take a distributed attack like that, but when she tried to dodge...well, she didn't quite make it. Pushed back, burned, and nearly blinded as her shield lit up trying to compensate for the heat she could barely keep track of what was happening for several seconds.

The first thing she saw as she got a hold of her senses again was the gangster making a run for the elevator. "No. Not that easy." Raising an arm, her force field twitching and flickering unsteadily, she fired a shockwave at his fleeing back.

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The blast managed to catch the fleeing gangster right in the small of the back, knocking him flat on his face. He twitched once, then lay still. Meanwhile, the scientist switched his attention from the fleeing man to Cannonade. The fire around him thickened and lashed out, setting the hero aflame.

"Jesus Christ!" Cannonade hit the ground in flames, trying to put the fire out as his helmet glowed cherry red.

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Slick did his best to control the oil that seeped out of his pores, not good in this heat.

Can't stand around all day he thought, and doubling his resolve against the fire, he sped forward, turning his forward momentum into a powerful flying kick that was aimed squarely at the doctor's chest.

It's gonna be him or me. And it damn well better be him.

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The scientist managed to sidestep Slick's attack; fortunately, the flames danced away with him, keeping them from licking across the oil that coated Slick's skin.

"In-ter-es-ting," said the scientist. "Are those... petrochemicals? I simply must... take a look, at some point..."

Cannonade, meanwhile, pulled himself to his knees, struggling with the oppressive heat. "You touch my friends, Frankenstein, and I'm gonna feed you your freaking doctorate."

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Dragonfly took a deep breath - as deep as she dared with so much fire around, anyway. cathartic - okay - gang down - which just leaves.... She turned back around to eye the last villain standing.

"You'll look at nothing. Don't deserve it. Not even oily bodily fluids." She brought a hand up, taking a few steps in his direction and letting fly another shockwave. "You were never a good scientist. Now everyone can see what you are: a burning effigy of idiots and villainy."

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"No!" the scientist yelled as the blast was absorbed by the flames. "It works... it works... they just have yet to see it. Look at me! I've done it! I'm the success! She and I... we're perfect! And you won't keep me from my work!"

A lash of solid flame lashed right past Dragonfly, burning a hole right through the wall behind her.

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Slick took another swing at the flaming doctor, but his heart wasn't in it - it was too bright and hot to really focus on fisticuffs.

There might be another option... if they could snuff this guys out. Might be worth a try.

He glanced around... perhaps a fire extinguisher might work. Anything to quench those flames.

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There was, indeed, a fire extinguisher, resting awkwardly on its hooks against the door the trio had come in through. Cannonade, meanwhile, had finally gotten back on his feet. "Hey, genius," he said, "I don't think 'she's' interested. And I doubt whatever you've done to her's gonna make her any more amenable." He took a swing, but missed -- the haze was starting to affect his head...

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"Haven't learned. Haven't invented. You've stolen. Barely improved on something you couldn't understand!" Another blast, this time with her other hand as the first gestured towards Cannonade. "He's right. Saw the records. Charts. Notes. She's perfect, maybe. You? Pale imitation. She probably hates you."

She tilted her head up and to the side. "I would."

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