Planning Stage

[Laura Kinney]

{desc=[OPEN]}She was a prisoner. A prisoner in her own body. Chains held fast to her, made of the same adamantium that had been forced into her body. She shuffled her feet forward a few steps, the gray painted cement floor was cold and a touch slippery beneath her feet as she moved. Emerald eyes narrowed on the floor before her. She waited, planned each moment out perfectly.

They wanted her to be perfect, and perfect she would be. The Perfect Weapon. A weapon to destroy them all. The full curve of Laura's mouth lifted, tilted upwards at the corners, a hint of a dimple, and the almost-smile was removed swiftly from her lips. She didn't like to take pleasure in the thought of those she knew all of her years writhing in pain; pain that she created, though the mere thought of creating something so exquisite in them would make her feel as though she was truly alive, a person in her own right.

Each footstep forward created a bit of a delight in her, thought that delight was diminished when she was faced with a lovely specimen of woman. Her skin the color of coffee with cream, her face was beautiful, breasts full and large, stomach tight and toned, as was her long legs. Laura's eyes lifted from the floor, her lips screwing into a small grimace. ”Miss Kimura..” The other woman's full lips parted and smeared into her signature smirk.

”Hello, Copy.. Planning some sort of escape?” The woman closed the distance between them. Kimura's crimson tipped fingers rested against Laura's shoulder, at first it seemed to be a kind touch, though her nails dug into the flesh, until Laura's blood bubbled under the length of them. Laura's frown deepened as she locked her gaze on the woman's own chocolate brown eyes. ”It's truly a shame..” The woman mentioned, passing her fingers down her shoulder, cutting the flesh jaggedly, though her mutation didn't allow for much of a cut to be had, aside from her own claws, and was soon knitting together the flesh that had been creased. Kimura's fingers continued downward, cupping one of Laura's breasts.

Laura released a low growl. Her body was off-limits. Kimura knew that, and yet she dared to press the issue time and time over. Kimura's hand drifted lower on her body, her fingers resting just above Laura's pelvic bone. ”Such a pity that you're off-limits, otherwise..” Kimura snatched her hand away from Laura's body and passed her with a slap to the curve of her backside. The skin on Laura's hand, the knuckle of her index and ring finger, splitting to allow for the passage of razor-alikened claws to rip from their hiding spot within her body.

”Ah-ah, Laura. You don't want her to get you in trouble.” A soft voice rang out. Laura shifted her gaze towards another woman. This one appearing in her mid-thirties, blonde haired and blue eyed. All-American Girl trapped in a bad situation. ”Mother.” Laura uttered the word with as much emotion as she might have uttered the word 'The'. It had no meaning to her, as she was never allowed to claim any sort of attachment with the woman in which she was brought to life from experiment to lifeform. Laura pulled the claws back into her hands, and she frowned lightly.

”Don't let her get to you. Dr. Sutter wouldn't allow for you to have even the bit of freedom you have here.” Sarah Kinney came closer to the child, she had formed a bond with, even if it was just in the womb. She reached out to take Laura's hands, and Laura shied back slightly. ”I'm permitted to unlock the shackles and cuffs.” Sarah whispered in a soft voice. Laura swallowed and placed her hands in the woman's own. Sarah rubbed her thumb against the skin that had been broken only seconds ago, and she offered Laura a smile.

Laura simply looked away. She was in no mood for the woman's attempts to be kind to her. She didn't have time or the desire to learn to be kind and loving in return. The shackles were removed and she was lead into the Mission Planning room. The black yoga pants on her form hugging to her legs like a second skin, just as the black zip-up sports bra hugged her upper form.

Another mission was being planned.. one that included X-23 as the primary weapon being used.

[Laura Kinney]

Kimura and Dr. Sutter sat at the other end of the table from where Sarah lead X-23. Their expressions blank, as they waited for the other two females to sit. Once the pair was settled, the projection screen popped up, and the face of a well known American Senator's face appeared on the screen. His face was well-worn, though still relatively attractive. X-23, though unfamiliar with feelings and emotions herself noticed the hurt and sadness that swam in the man's brown eyes. There was tell about the man's wife having been impregnated by another man. The proof? Not a test, but the fact that the child was born with Sickle Cell Anemia, and the senator and his wife were both Caucasian, with no latent traces of African American. His wife's body guard, however was a light skinned man, who looked a great deal like Denzel Washington.

X-23's newest target was the senator's wife, lover, and child. Each was to meet a tragic end, the adults receiving a tortured fate, while the child was supposed to be left to the elements. She had never hurt a child before, and thought that childhood was supposed to be sacred, though she hadn't had a special sort of childhood. The mere mentioning of such a dangerous plan had her losing what miniscule faith she had left in humanity as a whole.

X-23's full bottom lip jutted out with disgust, though she said nothing, simply crossed her arms under the curve of her full breasts. Her emerald green eyes remained focused on the screen, and the man's gaze traveled to her. He nodded a bit. ”She's perfect. My wife will trust her. She's young and beautiful. Play up a lonely child role and you'll have her hook, line, and sinker.” X-23's left hand rose to her cheek, brushing her fingers through her hair before she stood up. ”I don't play games, Mr. Senator. This isn't a game. This is life and death you're talking about. So she cheated on you. Big deal. Divorce her, go to counciling, that's what normal people do.”

X-23 turned on her heel, and moved for the door. ”Some of us don't have a conscience. Most people do. Can you live with the guilt, Mr. Senator?” With that, X-23 moved towards the automatic door and exited. X-23 returned to her cell and laid down on the bed, her left arm across her eyes. Her skin prickled as if someone was watching her. She looked up and around though saw no one. Her brow rose. Something was different. Thanks to her paternal DNA, she had a few feral senses, one of those being a strong sense of smell. Her nostrils flared, and she stood up, escaping her cell, and heading towards the elevator that lifted out of the Hive Maze sort of structure that continued some 30 miles beneath the two story structure that showed on the surface. There was only two ways down, the stairs that were generally used by those who were going from one floor to the next, or the elevator.

The hair on the back of X-23's neck stood on end. Danger.. Danger.. Danger..

She could understand the desire to escape the Facility, but for someone to break in? Must be for the Adamantium plans, but why would you risk a lifetime of imprisonment for a few billion dollars?