Lurking the shadows...

[southernreaper]

Who: southernreaper and kingofrooks
When: Forward dated: September 3rd, after sirens.
Where: Somewhere in the city
Summary: Kevin is releasing steam after losing two room mates. Bats is stalkinglurking and puts two and two together.
Warnings: Violence, killing of the things in the dark, swearing.

Comments

[kingofrooks]

There was something incredibly wrong about a boy who turned monsters to dust when he touched them. The mutate simply crumpled and turned to dust, months and even years of decomposition fitted neatly into a few moments. Bruce's eyes narrowed from his perch on the rooftop, a good distance away from the kid- he had seen him before. A Newcomer from the same world as Magneto- Michael Xavier. His name was Kevin. Kevin Ford.

The problem was that Bruce also remembered another report. Of a boy runnng away, and a dead body, a throat crumpled into dust. He tugged on his armour slightly, suddenly glad for it - Kevlar and metal, over and over. He didn't know what kind of power he had exactly, but it was obvious enough that he could deal a lot of damage very quickly. Fatal damage.

Whether or not it was deliberate was still up in the air. But right now, Bruce was banking on a 'no'.

He shot a line somewhere over Ford's head, and swung. He was taking a risk - the soles of his boots were made of rubber, and he attacked first, kicking the kid's hand

[southernreaper]

Kevin fell back with an inarticulate cry, holding onto his arm. He stumbled against the wall. He hadn't been expecting anyone else. He wasn't expecting anyone else out tonight. The mutate was gone. They weren't very populous tonight anyway - but they were enough.

Then whatever had hit him resolved into a human-like shape that stared at him, saying a single word.

Well, no other night creature really spoke. He was wary, his back against a wall, but his arms were bare, to give him some sort of weapon.

"Beggin' ya pardon?" Kevin was just confused at this point. Who the hell was this guy?

[kingofrooks]

His eyes were fixed on Kevin's bared skin - his hands, neck and face. Bruce looked at him for a moment before he deliberately reached down and tugged out a gas mask, letting the strap hang from his fingers slightly as he looked at him.

The boy was afraid. That boded well. It meant that he was still a boy instead of something pretending to be one.

He knew eight-year-olds ruthless enough to kill their parents in cold blood. Bruce wasn't taking any chances.

"Your touch kills, doesn't it?" He cocked his head to the side, and pulled up his arm, showing the mask- and the materials that made it. The slant of light from the bare streetlamp cast it a sickening colour. "Why are you not wearing gloves?"

[southernreaper]

Kevin immediately dragged down the sleeves of his long sleeved shirt. His hands went into his pockets. They were instinct now, something he'd learned a long time ago, even though he hadn't been a mutant that long.

"I dunno what ya talkin' 'bout. Who the hell are ya?"

[kingofrooks]

He knew enough of unconscious, almost-involuntary movements to label what Kevin just did to be an admission of guilt, no matter what his voice said. Bruce's eyes narrowed, and he took a single step forward, taking care to let the sound echo around them.

"You're a bad liar," the words were intoned quietly, heavily. "Are you here to kill? Keeping your hands bare so you can touch anyone and kill them?"

Another step forward.

"You've killed before, haven't you? Not just these monsters. A man."

[southernreaper]

Kevin scooted along the wall he was against, trying not to get pinned in. He wasn't the greatest at hand to hand or strategy but he'd paid attention. Batman's words drew an almost physical flinch from him.

He wasn't even thinking about the man in the riot a couple months ago. In fact, that person had completely slipped his mind. But he had killed his own father. It'd been an accident - the law had agreed. Kevin's father had been the victim of unfortunate genetic circumstances.

Maybe this guy was psychic? He tried to remember every shield Miss Frost had ever taught him, running through all the mental exercises in rapid succession.

"Who that hell are ya? An' what d'ya want?" Kevin kept trying to slip past him. He wanted to go home.

HOW DID I LOSE THIS TAG

[kingofrooks]

The boy's conscience was still alive and working, Bruce could tell. The guilt in his eyes, the fear in his stance- oh, he knew.

But he didn't gentle his tone, or tell him that it was okay. That was a lie. The boy had done something wrong, to say the very least. He had killed at least one person, and he was still not wearing gloves out if he couldn't control his powers.

To say that he needed to be punished was to put it lightly.

"What I want doesn't matter, Kevin Ford," his voice was a low, raw rumble. "What matters is what you have done?

"Are you ready to confess your sins?"

ITS OKAY I HAVE BEEN FAIL LATELY.

[southernreaper]

What this man wanted did matter to Kevin. Because he knew he wasn't going to make it home, or anywhere else safe. Cornered, and all he could do was try to protect himself. Unfortunately that meant using a power that would kill instead of just harm.

"I ain't doin' nothin'." He wanted to run, but he knew better. It wouldn't do any good. The question about sins brought a sharp, bitter laugh from Kevin. Confessing sins... what could he say?

"Ya ain't a priest, an' ya sure as hell ain't God. I don't owe ya nothin'." He owed only himself, and even then all he owed himself was what he currently had: shelter, food and a job he was okay at.

WHY DID I LOSE THIS NOTIF AGAIN...

[kingofrooks]

That line was practically cheesy, but it seemed to have worked, in one way or another. Bruce watched him very carefully, and decided that he was definitely nothing more than a teenager burdened with a terrible power and no way to turn it off.

But his behaviour practically ensured his guilt. It was not in his words, no - it was in his posture, in his tension, in the way his feet were stuck here, near Batman, even when he wanted to run.

Conscience. He wasn't beyond hope.

"June eighth." He murmured the words quietly. At the same time, he switched on the portable microphone he kept in his pouch. "During the riots. A man died, with his throat turned to dust. It was reported on the news feed two days later, on the tenth."

He cocks his head to the side. Took a step forward, and made it impossible for Kevin to deny what he had done:

"Why did you run?"

BECAUSE LJ SUCKS?

[southernreaper]

Kevin just stared at him. His hands worked in his pockets. Another skill that he'd learned since becoming a mutant: putting gloves on one handed.

"I don't know what ya talkin' 'bout." Kevin wasn't stupid; he wasn't about to admit to killing someone. Not out loud and not to someone he didn't know. And sure as hell not in public where things could be overheard.

He sidled away a bit further. He probably wouldn't escape, but he couldn't just sit here. Kevin wouldn't use his power - lumber, the monsters, that was different, this was a human being... maybe - but he was still a Hellion and X-Men trained.

YEAHHHHH PRETTY MUCH

[kingofrooks]

"You're lying," it was a statement. No, he didn't expect things to be so easy, for him to be able to get a confession. But- he had a possible way, and it might make the recorded conversation to be inconclusive evidence- but if he succeeded, the boy would confess on his own.

Bruce might also lose a hand. He considered the odds, and decided to risk it in a split second decision.

Then, suddenly, he stepped forward. And again, until he was right in front of Kevin. He reached out, grabbing onto the neck of his turtleneck and pulled it forward, exposing his throat. At the same time, he reached out with his other hand, curling his gauntleted hand against the pale throat, closing around it and slamming him against the wall.

The whole process had taken less than three seconds.

Bruce's thumb pressed very, very slightly against the hollow of Kevin's throat.

"Changing your mind?"

[southernreaper]

Kevin knew he was outmatched. He wasn't stupid. But he also wasn't going to open his mouth and get himself condemned. He saw stars as his head connected with the brick behind him. However, the training kicked in and his foot lashed out. The bare hand he still had, scrabbled for something, anything, to attack with. Anything that wasn't the bare hand that was.

However, the gloved hand grabbed at his attacker's wrist.

"I don't know what ya talkin' 'bout." He ground out through clenched teeth, trying to blink his vision clear and catch his breath at the same time.

[kingofrooks]

Using the gloved hand. The bare hand still at his side. Bruce's eyes narrowed slightly, and he loosened his grasp on the boy's throat. Enough to let him breathe easily, but still there- still reminding him that Bruce could snap his throat in a second if that was what he wanted to do.

"Don't you, Kevin Ford?" then he grabbed for the bare hand, slamming that against the wall, the skin touching against the synthetic materials of his gauntlet. His gamble had paid off - good.

"If I'm not wearing this- will you try to kill me? I know too much, and you don't want to go to jail." He cocked his head. The gas mask was shoved into his pocket.

"If you touch my face, I would probably die."

[southernreaper]

Kevin hissed in a pained breath as his arm slammed into the wall. Dark brown eyes glared at Batman. He didn't know who the hell this man was, but he knew that he sure as hell wasn't a cop.

"I ain't a killer, you bastard." Kevin practically spat out at him. "I ain't never been. An' ain't never gonna be."

[kingofrooks]

"That's a lie." His voice was cold, and steady. His gaze remained on Kevin, almost accusing.

"You killed that man during the riots, didn't you? Who else? Who else have you killed?"

[southernreaper]

Kevin's gaze hardened. He's not a killer. He has had chances, and the one chance he had that was deliberate, he was stopped and realized just how bad it actually was. So he ran. With the Kingmaker, he'd used his powers for something that was good and God only knew how many lives had been saved just by his simple act of destroying that weapon.

"I ain't a killer." Kevin snarled. "If'n I was, my hand wouldn't have been against the wall. I. Don't. Kill."