xp_logs | No Pryor Convictions: Avalanche finds his mark

The lure of a big score is too much for Avalanche to resist. Now he's back, and looking for a new accomplice.

Dominic Petros was a man of simple pleasures. And one of those simple pleasures was the taste of free air, especially coupled with the fact that the other two members of his former crew were cooling their heels
in the Vault, the special new mutant prison that had been created a few years ago and filled with most of the attempted escapees from the Hazelton transfer.

Petros (or Avalanche, the name he was more often known by) had managed to escape by more or less throwing his other escapees to the wolves, in the form of the X-Men who were pursuing them, and escaping in the ensuing chaos. He'd made his way to New York City, and had been living right under the NYPD and FBI's noses for two years.

He'd stayed quiet and out of trouble, but the problem was, he didn't want to be quiet. He wanted to make trouble. And he had decided that two years had been long enough. It was time to get back in the game. And if he did say so himself, he'd come up with a pretty solid scheme. He'd started intimidating young mutant kids by threatening to kill their parents. He'd make the kids break into a bank with him, and when the cops showed up, he'd make his escape, leaving the kid to take the rap. And without any accomplices to split the take, he was putting away a lot more money than he did when he'd been running with Mad Dog and the Corruptor.

Of course, each bank he hit was like a fix to a junkie. It felt good, the rush of power getting away clean. But once that feeling faded, he needed to get it back. In his mind, he always promised himself that one more bank would give him enough money that he could quit and buy some island in the Caribbean or something, but he kept hunting for another kid, another job.

So, here he was, out on the street, eating a hot dog and casually watching people as they walked by, on the lookout for his next patsy.

Madelyne Pryor weaved her way through the crowded sidewalks. Holiday shopping season was in full force, meaning that in addition to the usual hazards of elbows and purses, she also had to be careful to avoid the swings of shopping bags. Just because the scrawny teenager had taken an elbow to the face before didn't mean she would want to now; any bruises would only confirm that her mother was right and the city wasn't safe for a fourteen year old girl. Maddie wanted to say that it was a lot safer for her to be out there than it was to keep her cooped up in a dressing room trying on dress after dress, each one poofier and more ugly than the one before.

After about the twelfth frock her mother had forced her into, Maddie was about ready to explode. The mistake was suggesting they shop for a dress; she should have known her mother would take it too far. All she had wanted was a plain black dress, and yet her mother had chosen something in every color of the rainbow with sequins and feathers and poof. Luckily, her father had finally decided to let her out on good behavior; on a short leash of course. But at this point, Maddie didn't care about these restrictions as long as she was able to get out of that store.

"One hot dog please," she said to the vendor, handing over her cash and taking the dog. Her mother wouldn't be happy that Maddie was spoiling her dinner, but you can't come to New York City and not have a hot dog. She thanked the man, and set about making her way through the sea of people once more.

But eating and walking wasn't her strong point, something Maddie was reminded of as her foot was caught in an unseen break in the pavement. Her hot dog went flying as she fell toward the ground, arms crossed in front of her face; she did not want to fly home with a broken nose. But the impact never came. Had Maddie not been covering her eyes, she would have seen the cement mere inches from her face. She would have known that the reason she hadn't crashed was that she was floating. Instead, all the klutzy teenager knew was that when she did finally touch the ground, it didn't hurt nearly as much as it should have.

"Ow."

Maddie's eyes may have been covered, but Petros' were not. And he saw every instant of the girl's fall, and the impossible way her body hovered above the pavement before landing. His eyes narrowed and the barest hint of a grin stole across his face.

Jackpot.

After that, it was child's play to follow the girl down the streets of New York, biding his time until she passed by an alleyway that he could shove her into while nobody was looking at them. He herded her farther back into the depths of the alley, away from any prying eyes, and then roughly shoved her up against a brick wall.

"Hey there, ginger brat," he rasped, in his most intimidating tone.

Seriously? Backed into a wall in a secluded alley? If it weren't so scary in real life, Maddie might have had more time to appreciate the obvious cliche. As it was, she was trying to keep herself calm while surveying her attacker and surroundings. The only way to escape was through him, and that obviously wasn't going to happen.

"Listen, dude," Maddie assumed the look of perfect innocence. "I have like $10 and some change. That's it. And an iPod. And you can totally have that cause it's super old anyways. Seriously. The click wheel sticks all the time. I'm hoping for a new one for Christmas."

"You think this is a stickup?" Petros snorted derisively. "No, no, little girl. I've got something a bit bigger in mind. And you're going to help me get it. Because I know what you are," he told her, a soft, dangerous note slipping underneath his words.

A look of panic flashed across her face, and quickly disappeared. Her father wasn't anyone particularly important; there was no reason to target Maddie. But apparently, to this guy, whoever he was, there was. "I'm really not the girl you want. Please," she put all the weight she could behind those words. "Just let me go."

The grip on the girl's shoulders started to slacken, but then Petros shook his head, as if he were trying to get rid of a fly buzzing around his face. He shoved Maddie roughly against the brick, pushing her up on tiptoes with a forearm across her throat. "Ah ah ah," he said sternly. "Not so fast."

"Let me go," she growled, struggling to counteract the weight on her larynx. If asking politely wasn't going to work, and if he insisted on using physical force, well, Maddie was going to fight back. He may have been bigger and stronger, but she quick and not afraid of playing dirty and aiming her knee straight into his groin.

A knee to the groin could take even the strongest man down. Of course, it was a classic type of counter, and Petros was expecting something like that, given how much the girl was fighting back. So when her knee came up, he pivoted and took it on his thigh instead. He shook her roughly and pressed his arm even tighter across her throat. "You don't want to make me mad, little girl. If I decide you're not worth it, maybe I just kill you and then go take it out on your family, huh?"

It was a struggle to swallow; whether that was due to the lump in her throat or the arm pinning her back, Maddie was unsure. But she wasn't going to let this a-hole, whoever he was, go after her family. If she hadn't walked out, if she had been paying better attention... this was all her doing. She wasn't going to let them suffer for her mistakes and missteps.

"Okay." Maddie's eyes were closed, her voice hoarse. "I'll help you. Promise to let me go. And not hurt my parents. And I'll help you."

"That's a good girl," Petros murmured, a wolfish grin crossing his face. Threatening family always seemed to work. "Here's what you're going to do for me..."