2013-02-24 - Cutscene: The Last Straw - Where Loyalties Lie

Jake wears his blue and stained work overalls as he heads back to his small efficiency apartment in Brooklyn. He though pauses on the sidewalk when a Buick pulls up to the curb by him and a window rolls down in the back.

Reverend William Stryker smiles that sly and grand smile of his at Jake, "Jake, long time no see. I knew it had to be you.  How about a lift?"

The young man heard about Stryker's view on mutants, but the man helped him get to New York City earlier, and helped inform him of what was going on with Kenzie. Finally, Jake nods, "Sure Reverend, thank you." He then moves to get into the back seat on the passenger side. "Sorry about the mess sir," he says with Southern politeness.

"Don't worry about it son," Reverend Stryker says with a smile. "It means you are a hard worker." The Buick then takes off. "How have things been going?"

"Ah...well enough sir. I am doing well in my classes, and my employer says I am a hard worker," a bit of nervousness coming out of Jake.

Stryker nods at that, "That's good son, that's good. How is Miss Young?" His smile is very wide and faked, but Jake does not fully catch it.

Jake's own expression turns haunted, "I...do not know Reverend. I do not know what is going on in her head, she has changed so much.  Like growing up means getting peircings and tattoos, and dressing like she does not want to have a real job or career, and she...," but his voice trails off.

"You can trust me Jake. I am here for you," Reverend says. "Perhaps there is still a way to save her."

The expression on Jake’s face seems to relax some, feeling like he needs a friend right now. "It's like she thinks violence is the only way to achieve anything. She has a gift!  I believe it’s a gift," he says more quietly when the Reverend’s jaw seems to tighten. "She should use it to help people, perhaps find new ways to wield electricity to be more efficient, or just do things like help in soup kitchens even. I do not have a preference, just something that helps her further her goals in life or help others better their own lives!" He shakes his head, appearing frustrated again, "But I do not even know where she wants to go in life anymore!"

Reverend does not wish to look a gift horse in the mouth yet however, so he controls himself as he has many times in the field of battle. "Of course, it’s that institute. It teachers her to be a soldier."

Jake shakes his head, "I am not sure anymore, but something does not feel right about that place in either case. They have a beautiful campus and a large building, but so few people about."

"Really? Anything else that does not feel right about that place Jake?" Stryker gently, but firmly verbally prods, searching for information from this young and trusting man.

"Are you kidding?" Jake rolls his eyes, “One of the teachers said that I was lucky I didn't get killed when I snuck on campus the first time to avoid the protesters to try and see if Kenzie was alright.” He scowls at that, “What sort of security system do they have that can do that? Seriously?”

"Their powers perhaps?" The Reverend is thoughtful, before asking, "You said that there are few people?"

"Exactly! Supposedly it’s a private school, but when I used to visit I pretty much never saw anyone else about unless it was a teacher or staff member." Jake looks annoyed, "I only met one of the other students, so I do not even know the type of people Kenzie is associating with that may be giving her these crazy ideas that dressing Goth is maturity."

A look of annoyance crosses the Reverend's face, as Jake derails and is not providing enough useful information. "How many staff have you typically seen about?"

That is when Jake finally catches on, looking at Stryker oddly, "What does it matter anyway?" Normally he does not sound that rebellious, but something about the way that question was asked got his back up.

"Then it would not hurt to answer the question," Stryker's eyes narrowing dangerous.

Never has Jake seen that expression cross the Reverend's face before and a chill goes up his spine. "I think I can walk the rest of the way, but I really appreciate the ride."

Reverend Stryker smiles meaninglessly, "Of course." He comments to the driver about pulling over, and Jake notices for the first time there is someone in the front passenger seat too, a woman with long black hair.

When the car pulls over, he notices it is in a back alley, and he moves to quick get out of the Buick. However, as he climbs out of the car, the woman is already there, and the first punch into his gut takes him by surprise! It is hard and fast, and he throws up a little bit on the ground.

Stryker gets out of the car and walks around to look down at Jake as he huddles on the ground, holding his stomach, “This could have gone much easier,” he comments. “Instead, you act like you are protecting those monsters that are training killer soldiers, corrupted evil, that will attack and ruin humanity.”

"No...," gasps Jake, breathless from the punch, as if to deny what Stryker is saying and including Kenzie in that.

The next six minutes are sheer torture as the seemingly delicate woman proves she is anything but as she works over Jake. And Jake is soon spitting out blood from his mouth where the inside of his mouth is cut badly, and there is a cut over one cheek. His stomach feels like it has been worked over by a professional and worse. His head dizzy.

Stryker growls low in his throat, "Leave him, the information he still managed to provide is next to useless." He then moves to get into the car, the woman closing the door for him this time before pulling heading to climb into the passenger front seat once more.

Jake is left behind, curled up in the dirty alleyway, the smell barely registered as he thinks his blood is broken and it is bleeding, his face a mess. He makes an odd, choked laughing sound and struggles to pull out his phone. He stares at it, realizing, he gave up everything to come here alone and has been unable to make any new friends since he arrived. He makes that choked laughing sound again, a sound of self-mockery.