[Seattle Great Wheel] Samples and Extracts

Emily gave a start when she heard Agent Echo's voice, having been too absorbed in her thoughts to have heard or seen anyone approach her. She listened intently as he spoke, even if she were familiar with this part of their ideology. The biological argument. From a biological perspective, mutants were worse than an invasive species for humans; they were the evolutionary replacement. At least, that's what the anti-mutant violence kept leading her to believe, that humanity wasn't interested in a peaceful symbiosis.

She arched a brow when he said that he had been following her exploits, immensely curious about what evidence she had left behind, in case she were dragged into trial for her acts. It was true, Emily didn't know how to scrub surveillance footage, but she had thought she had been careful. Her fine control over her powers allowed her to stay hidden in plain sight as her plants did the messy work, making it hard to pinpoint that it was her manipulating the flora if it were their first time encountering her.

"It's nice to finally meet you in person too, Echo. Welcome to Seattle," she said with a warm smile, spreading her arms wide in a welcoming gesture. "How was your flight? I hope America is treating you well. Still, I was surprised when you said that you were coming over to Seattle. What's on the agenda? Did Spora assign you to something new?" asked Emily curiously, eager as always for news.

Emily didn't mind listening to Nigel speak, nor did she mind his apparent apathy. Often, his perspectives were familiar and similar to her own, and she found them to be a refreshing change from the compromising ideology and methods promoted by the X-Men on their podcast. Emily had gotten used to Nigel's asides and commentaries from nights in group chats with the MLF. Nigel had even enlightened her a few times about anti-mutant incidents in the States, a subject she considered herself very familiar with. Plus, she rather enjoyed his accent. She would have to ask about her "calling card" later, for she greatly appreciated Nigel's far-reaching and valuable intel-gathering abilities.

"Absolutely," said Emily in a chipper voice, taking the envelope and looking thoroughly at the picture inside. "How deep and what kind of shit? And why this particular mutant?" she asked, lightly tapping the picture. "There must be dozens of mutants in the States that are deep in the shit."

Emily listened intently to Nigel's description, nodding along at the details, a frown crossing her features when he mentioned the Order. She knew the Order, the Protectorate team based in the Pacific Northwest, infamous with a reputation for heavy-handed tactics and use of force. In Emily's opinion, "government jackboot fascists" was an apt description. Emily had even fled from them once, forcing her to hide away in the forest for days.

Still, the Order's involvement sowed fresh doubt in her mind. Emily was confident in her abilities to evade or defeat one cape, maybe even two. But breaking someone out of a Protectorate base? With just one teammate? This felt like Emily's most ambitious endeavor to date.

At Nigel's question, she replied with a nod. "Yeah, how much potential resistance can we expect once we get there? Several soldiers? A few capes? Maybe both? Are we disguising ourselves and infiltrating our way in? Should we wait for nighttime to do this, or do you wanna go right now?" said Emily readily, her day clear with nothing better to do.

Emily liked Nigel's confidence. It bolstered her spirits for the job. He was right; she could definitely take on a dozen soldiers. All she needed was a bit of preparation. And adding silence could only increase their potential body count.

Her brow furrowed at the mention of other incarcerated mutants, her mind working over how to achieve a mass breakout. Perhaps it was because of her conversation with Rogue that she wanted to do this job as stealthily as possible this time around, even though she was used to the scorched-earth approach.

"Sounds delightful," she answered with a smile. "Let's go, then." She would then turn and lead Nigel out of the pier all the way to her parking spot across the street.

Emily kept an unusual vehicle. On the outside, it was just a nondescript black sedan, but the interior looked like a miniature garden. On the floor was a layer of dirt and soft grass. Ivy had crept up from the floor and lined the interior, and sitting on the back seats was an encased flowerbed full of vibrant flowers, with a toxicity warning on the clear cover. A random assortment of seeds of differing sizes and colors were scattered all over the vehicle, on the floor, on the seats, and on the dashboard. Emily scooped up two colorful handfuls of seeds and stuffed them into her pockets before opening the encased flowerbed and tucking a few flowers behind her ear.

"Sorry about the mess. I figured I needed a mobile arsenal," she said sheepishly as she swept the passenger seat as clear as possible with her hand. She would then get into the driver's seat, ready to go. "I'm guessing Thunderbird's being held at the Order's base, and not a different location like a black site?" If Thunderbird was at the base, Emily would drive directly there and park a block away from it. She knew where the base was, even if she didn't have the security clearance to park on the facility.

"One minute and thirty four, got it." After parking a couple blocks away from the base, as Nigel instructed, Emily would make her way on foot towards the back of the facility, stopping once she spotted a guard patrolling outside the wall around the base. She would wait at a distance, concealing herself in nearby bushes if she could find any, as growing ivy crept underneath her clothing, clinging to her closely like hidden knives. Sooner rather than later, the guard would leave, leaving that stretch of wall unmonitored while they changed the guard.

Once the guard was out of sight, Emily sprinted to the wall and slammed her hands onto the ground, pressing seeds into it. The seeds immediately sprouted, rapidly growing out into the ground, carving their roots deep into the earth and under the wall. Then, she would spread her hands far apart, as though she were parting window curtains, the earth rumbling and crunching as she willed the plants' roots to rip open a small tunnel under the wall, large enough for a person to get through.

Without wasting any time, Emily immediately crawled through the tunnel, eyes peeled for any more guards once she emerged on the other side, the woman looking around for any emergency exits or windows on the building to break into.