Xaviers!

Down the street from Sam, Sam, Sam and Will is a friendly neighborhood diner. Inside a woman polishes the counter, her dark hair up for sanitation's sake. She's dressed like a waitress, but those in the neighborhood know she's more than that and offers a friendly ear if you've had a bad day.

There's the sound outside of a comicly loud motorcycle which shuts off. Tereza saunters into the diner, dropping into what almost seems like a reserved spot in on of the booths, sitting long ways on the bench. She makes no motion to order anything, just nodding at Izzy.

"Y'know, most people at least go for a malt when they come in," Izzy says with a chuckle.

Tereza snaps her fingers and three totally-not-identical blondes appear from 'nowhere' and stop at her booth. "Girls, buy yourselves some malts. On me." She gestures and they immediately make for the counter.

"Alright, alright," Izzy says, shaking her head as she goes to make the milkshakes.

"About a thousand more, and you'll almost cover the butt-groove you've worn in that booth."

"Beats the tire groove I put in old man Stanton's arm. He should look both ways before reaching across the street."

"You sure you didn't do it because he doesn't like you sneaking out with the redhead?"

"Hey, if he wants to listen to rumors, that's his business, not mine. Streets are for vehicles, not rogue arms."

"If they're rumors, they're rumors." Izzy shrugs.

"You know I wouldn't breathe a word of it either way."

"I trust you, but do I look like the sort of girl who'd sneak around?"

"Well let's be real here, walking in with a full brass band accompanying you is sneaky by Stanton's standards."

"Hey, don't get me started on Stanton's standards. I prefer blondes anyway." She gestures and the three blondes settle across the booth from her.

"Lotta things around here seem to come in threes," she shrugs, carrying a tray with three milkshakes over to the booth.

Tereza nods, "It's a nice number... except on a motorcycle."

"I'm sure you could manage, but people would think the circus was in town."

"Cuuuut!" a voice suddenly shouts. It sounds like an older, pleasant female voice that's just made for narrating, but something about the inflection doesn't quite want to fit that.

The whole scene freezes except for Isolde and Tereza. And then one of the triplets suddenly twitches and jerks around a little before it starts moving like a regular human being again, turning her head to look at the two werewolves and sighing. She puts her hands on her hips in fists and shakes her head.

"How the flippity-floppity heck are you giving me more of a head-ache than the red-head or those two glitchy gals." She leans across the table and uncomfortably close to Tereza as she seems to peer into her eyeballs as if she was inspecting some piece of machinery that's malfunctioning. "Why are you so stubborn? She said you're kinda barky, but this is ridiculous. Aren't dogs supposed to be good at doing tricks and stuff?"

Tereza catches a snarl in her throat, which feels out of place on the set, but her response is firm, even if her tone is disoriented. "Dogs are great at doing tricks. Wolves not so much."

"Well that's stupid!" the Narrator exclaims and suddenly there's a rolled-up newspaper in her hand that she whaps Tereza on the nose with. "Your friend's doing fine! Not great but... you know. Fine." she turns to gesture at Isolde with the newspaper roll.

Isolde grits her teeth as Tereza is whapped.

"You... don't get to touch her," she snarls, her German accent starting to slip back in.

The hit causes Tereza's eyes to rim in yellow, more from the implied insult than any pain. She turns to face the person and pulls sunglasses out of a pocket. "Hey, whoever you are. Have you packed?" What the hell is wrong with me? Under the table, her foot comes up to rest on the base of the bench the triplets are sitting on, which, as luck would have it, is the last bench in the row.

"I did not touch her, I smacked her on the nose, thankyouverymuch." the Narrator informs Isolde, turning to look at her. "Don't make me get the water bottle. Gosh! Why are you two such a pain to work with?"

"Try it with me and you might find out."

Tereza clears her throat to draw the Narrator's attention back to her. "It's because we're pack. We're better together." That's when she shoves hard on the bench with her foot, trying to pitch it over backwards.

There's a bit of resistance, but then the bench suddenly gives and topples over. The two frozen triplets remain in their position, sitting in the air but the third ones falls over backwards with a surprised yell, rolling once before landing square on her butt.

"Oookay, very funny!" she says as she gets up and overly dramatically dusts herself off. "Fine. Be that way!" she pouts and stomps her foot. And as she does there's a ripple that spreads out from underneath her foot that changes the floor. Checkerboard tiles seem to flip over into shitty linoleum. The benches and tables flip into the ground and come back up as shitty bunk beds. Bars rise from the floor in lines and slam into the ceiling, which in turn ripples and flourescent lighting turns into regular bulbs hanging in plain metal lampshades. In a moment the whole place has turned from a nice little diner into a bunch of jail cells around Isolde and Tereza. The triplets' clothes have flipped inside-out the same way the room has and are now police uniforms, the rolled-up newspaper has turned into a nightstick.

"You wanna play delinquent? There you go!"

"Oh, I don't *play* delinquent," Tereza grins, moving closer to Isolde, risking a quick glance at her. "You okay?"

"I will be," Isolde says calmly and quietly.

Then, entirely without warning, she slams her body into the bars.

The bars don't budge even a little and knock Isolde on her butt while the Narrator giggles.

"Good, tire yourself out some and maybe you'll be more reasonable."

Tereza grins at the Narrator. "I wouldn't count on her getting more reasonable. You really think you can hold us? This place is a piece of cake compared to Zelenogorsk."

Isolde curls a lip as she gets back up.

She presses herself up against the bars again. It's obvious enough that they're too narrow for an adult-sized human to squeeze through.

Still she tries, a manic grin spreading across her lips punctuated by a sickening crack as she forces her shoulder to dislocate.

"Hey hey hey! This is a G rated show!" the Narrator shouts, though she's maybe not as disturbed as one might expect from watching somebody intentionally dislocate their shoulder.

She waves her hands around and a black bar appears that spins until it's vertical and pushes itself into the gap in front of Isolde. It has a solid consistency but otherwise seems to offer no haptic feedback whatsoever. A moment later more bars appear on the ground around the cell and rise up simultaneously to fill in all the other gaps between the bars, effectively turning Isolde's cell into a box. The inside of it seems to swallow up any and all light or sound, save for the Narrator's voice somehow getting through. "If you can't behave then it's time-out for you!"

For her part, Tereza settles down to sit cross-legged in the middle of her cell. She doesn't know Isolde can't hear her, so she snaps in a tone of command, "Isolde... calm!"

She close her eyes and takes a deep breath. The white in her hair grows a bit more pure as she seems to simply rest calmly and accept her fate... while in the cracks around the bars, ice begins to form and wedge itself deeper into the masonry.

It's hard to tell if Isolde heard Tereza. Indeed, it's hard to tell much of anything behind the censor bars.

"That's better!" she informs Tereza and a moment later the triplets start moving again normally. Except now they're wearing a more stern expression as they wander up and down the row of cells.

Tereza continues to sit, letting the time play out and letting her ears tell her where the triplets are. And more ice wedges itself into the masonry around the bars.

It takes an hour or more of slow careful work before she's satisfied. Then the ice starts to expand adding more material, slowly at first, but as soon as one of the triplets is even with the 'front' of her cage, it expands rapidly to try and tear the front of the cell from it's anchoring and pitch against the guard.

As sturdy as the actual bars are (they never deform even a little), she does manage to slowly tear them out from where they're anchored in the floor. There's only so much moisture in the air and the wedge doesn't grow quite as big as she might have liked it to, but it's enough to knock into the guard and leave her an opening to physically push the bars herself.


Meanwhile in Isolde's cell she's sitting in pitch-black darkness. She can't even really smell anything. Shifting her feet on the ground makes no sound, the only reason she can even tell there's a floor is that she's not falling. Probably. It's very easy to imagine she's actually just plunging down a lightless hole. There's even a feint rushing sound in her ears... Is it possible to hear your own blood circulation? Moving her feet against the floor pulls the fact that she's standing on something back into focus, but that only draws her attention to the oppressive darkness all around, weighing on her with it's own presence. She's so used to being the monster in the dark that this is uniquely unsettling. Her senses and body make her stronger, give her an edge. Without that awareness of her own superiority she's suddenly thrust back to old memories of being a little girl hiding under the blanket.

How she gets from seated to standing that fast is anyone's guess, but she throws herself at the bars hard, looking to knock out the guard as quickly as possible. Her body seems on the edge of changing, but she distinctly reigns it in, promising the wolf she'll take her own retribution.

She knocks the guard against the opposing wall and she's out cold. With all the noise being made the other two storm into the room, brandishing their nightsticks. Something tells Tereza that they are not as... dangerous as they could be. There's this persistent itch in the back of her head telling her to be concerned about these triplets beyond the obvious, but in the reality she's seeing they're just... two young women armed with sticks and that doesn't seem particularly dangerous. As evidenced by the one that's already down for the count.

Tereza grins, prowling in their direction, being a little bit cagey at the same time. Surely they weren't all that dangerous, but those nightsticks could still ring her bell. She feints left and then lunges for the one on the right, swinging her fist in a hard punch.

The guard swings her club around and strikes Tereza's upper arm. It smarts like hell, but it'll 'only' leave a nasty bruise. Meanwhile her punch lands pretty solidly and the guards' head snaps to the side. Instead of collapsing she just seizes up, frozen and sloooowly topples backwards, hitting the ground like a board.

Tereza's teeth get sharper at the pain, but she doesn't need mindless fury here. She needs to fight smart. She shifts sideways, putting the remaining guard between her and a closed cell before shoving forward to try to ram herself into the guard and bounce the guard off the cell.