11/10/2006 Clinton (Hell's Kitchen) ------------------------------------------------------------------ With a title like Hell's Kitchen, one might expect a vast wasteland of sorts.. a depressing.. dank pit where the shreds of human decay come to congregate.. or die. On contrary, however, this place is full of life. Being one of the most notorious places in the country for it's vast criminal activity and questionable inner workings, this place is more alive then one could ever imagine. The lively urban setting carries its heart right on its sleeve -graffiti art growing up over the tenements, old abandoned slaughter houses and factories of steel and brick. Dirt and mud coat the sidewalks and curbs as if to cushion the litter that has been carelessly sprinkled here and there. This place is a testament to nature's ability to adapt and survive in even the most horrid of conditions. Trees pop up here and there amongst the boarded up windows and abandoned or just planed doomed cars that line the streets, flourishing and growing tall much like the people who live here have despite the hazardous conditions. ------------------------------------------------------------------ It's evening - late but still before Uriko's curfew. So what's she doing right now? She's /cruising./ That's right. And she's doing it illegally. Boy, when Scott finds out about her ride... No, she's not going to think about that right now. The reason why she's able to get away with it though - it's because her motorcycle isn't exactly a normal one. Yes, it possibly /used/ to be a Harley - but it's been heavily modified. In fact, now it flies - a series of disks, mounted horizontally, two on the back, and one of the front, glow an eerie blue color. The body of the bike is still there, as are the handlebars, seat, etc, but the suspension works are gone, replaced with the struts that the anti-grav assembly is mounted on. On the front of the bike, mounted on either side of the headlight (where the turn singals should be), are two ocular instruments - they look almost like eyes. With a quiet whir, she glides along several feet above the street - not a lot of traffic in this part of town, at this hour. Making his way one two legs down the sidewalk is one Otto Octavius, currently fairly anonymous in long coat, collar upturned to partially obscure his face, and tugged-down fedora. He turns his head to watch the high-tech bike glide by, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses, lips pursed into a tight frown. Anonymous to someone without a good nose, perhaps. Something tickle's Uriko's senses, however, and she slows, making another pass down the other lane of the street. Still not looking directly at Otto, but she knows she's picked up a fairly familiar scent on the air. Odd... It almost smells like... But no, that couldn't be. He's definitely, definitely in jail. The girl furrows her eyebrows. While he doesn't possess a superhuman sense of smell, Octavius does have more than the average man's sense of paranoia, and as the bike turns around and starts to head back, he frowns and takes a turn down the nearest alleyway, a narrow, shadowy place between two graffiti-decorated tenement buildings. Uriko hrms. She doesn't SEE him anywhere. "You... see anything? Hal?" she asks of seemingly nobody in particular... and then in a mechanical voice that sounds vaguely like the mechanical one of one of Ock's former associates, the bike answers, "No, I detect nothing out of the ordinary in this sector," with a whir of servos as the 'eye' like mechanisms turn and focus. She whips the machine around again, "Nothing?" she rhetorically as she tries to track the scent. Hrm. Otto might recognize the work too - the bike, though high tech, has a distinct look to it. It's all brass and steel - 'classy' looking almost. "You wait here. I'm gonna check things out. Somethin's buggin' me." Back pressed against dirty brick with the darkness that thickly fills the narrow alley, Octavius grimaces, inwardly and once again cursing those who are the cause of his (temporary, he hopes) crippling. As he peers out toward the mouth of the alley, toward the street and the glimpsed bike and rider, a gloved hand reaches into his coat pocket and takes a small device not much larger than a roll of quarters. He palms this as he waits and watches. Otto might well recognize the girl - he's seen her before in both human and tiger-girl forms. Tonight, Uriko is in her tiger-girl form - and she's on the prowl. She steps into the alleyway - giving her eyes a bit of time to adjust. It's still dim though - with plenty of places anybody could hide. The scent seems to be stronger here though. Still, she hasn't found what she's looking for. If the girl were smarter, no, more experienced, she might've thought to shine a light down the alley, but it's too late for that. Sniff. Tailswish. Pad. "I know you're iiin here," she growls softly, "Whoever you are." Octavius curses inwardly again, mouth twisting into an ugly scowl. Cats and curiosity. Prudence insists that he remain hidden, though, no matter how much it rankles at his pride, and he sidles further down the alleyway; the scrape of shoe on concrete gives away his movements, however. Uriko just doesn't seem to have her A game on tonight, for whatever reason. Normally, catching a middle age, out of shape scientist would probably not be that hard. After all, without his tentacles, Ock's not exactly Gordon Freeman or anything. At the sound of his shoes scraping on the concrete, the girl crouches and then leaps a good distance down the alley - overshooting, however, she lands /right/ near him... but with her back to him. Very strong scent now - she can hear his breathing as she recovers from the jump and begins to whirl around, realizing she's in a vulnerable position. Out of shape he may be, but then, Octavius has never relied much on his physical prowess. As Uriko lands and starts to turn, he thrusts the cylindrical device in his hand toward her, thumbing a button at one end, and a pulse of concussive force-beam flashes out of the other end toward her. Broad as the beam is, it's quite likely to strike her, especially at this close range, and with enough force to knock her back quite a distance. Quick though she may be, she's no Spidey - she doesn't a 'spidey sense' to save her. She gets struck on the side of her face, catching a glimpse of the person who did it - no, that /can't/ be, she thinks... just before she slams into the wall on the other side of the alleyway. Careless. As /always./ But that's part of youth. Bruised - bloody scraped from the wall, the girl picks herself up, slowly. Something might be broken - youch. Like her /head./ She fingers the nasty gash momentarily, all while trying to figure out her next move. Was that an arm? What the hell? "No fucking /way,/" she mumbles in disbelief. Otto keeps the device -- crude, but useful, as tonight obviously proves -- hidden in his gloved hand. "You should have learned by now that I am not a man to be trifled with," he grates, still not coming out into easy view. "I suggest that you go back the way you came." Uriko wipes the blood off her forehead as the skin begins to mend itself - the blood clots, scabs, and beneath the cells begin to regenerate. Not quite as fast as Wolverine's famed healing factor, but definitely noticeable nonetheless. The girl looks at him warily - something about him is slightly different. His smell is... "Whatsa matter?" she licks the tips of her canines, "You 'fraid of a little girl?" Still... Even if her suspicions are correct, a man like Ock... well he's already proven he's got more than just guns. She feels almost confident that she could take him - but what if she's wrong? She'd be in so much more trouble than she already is. "You're not even worth it," she lies, taking the route up a fire escape and over him, away - "C'mon Hal! We're goin' home," she calls to the bike as it begins to rise off the ground. Otto sneers. No, he doesn't smell afraid, not in the least. Even without his arms -- and the smell of metal and robotics is definitely not lingering about him as it was before -- he's not /afraid/. The sneer remains as he watches her go, not offering any further word.