OOC: Well since Flex quit, I get to do this. Permission from the other mods
IC: As morning hit the Xavier mansion, Francesca crept down to the med-bay. If anyone saw her, she was just going down to see if Beast after the incident. Perfectly reasonable, he was a bit of a father figure to many in the school, and he had been shot right in front of her. A combination of care and survivors guilt should be enough to dissuade any suspicions. And if anyone wondered why she was creeping, well, it was early morning, she didn't want to wake anybody up.
As she slipped inside the sterile chrome furnishing of the medbay, she gazed at a control box on the wall. The wires inside changed from copper to silver, a better electrical conductor and the suddenly higher flow of voltage was enough to short the system. The cameras and alarms around the medbay shut off as the fuse for the room blew. She hadn't had to worry about cameras last time thanks to the Danger Mansion assimilating them, but now they were a worry she had to take care of. It would also mean Beast's life signs suddenly vanishing wouldn't be noticed until someone physically checked in on him. And who knows, if anyone got suspicious about a second electrical glitch, maybe she could pin that on Warren. Say he got a taste for the mansion's juice after she accidentally showed him the main power room. That was the good thing about having a mansion full of mutants, most of whom were experiencing puberty. It gave so many suspects.
That was why she wasn't using her own powers to just turn the dead fur and skin cells on Beast into acid droplets, or the ceiling above him into napalm. It would rather give the game away. Speaking of which...she turned to the control panel again, and returned the wires to their original state. There. Evidence gone.
She took a few cautious steps towards Beast. He'd been strapped to the table, with his legs dangling over the end, after he'd refused to stay still despite his injuries. He looked unconscious. Eyes shut, slow breathing, low heart-rate...
"Who knew that a feline appearance would also give you the nine lives," she mused, "Chalk that one up to secondary super powers I guess."
She grabbed a scalpel. Like bullets, slitting his throat was such a mundane means of death that anyone in the mansion could be a suspect. Except maybe that wheelchair kid. Could he have got close enough in that chair...?
Something heavy slammed into her, throwing her bodily to the floor. It was one of the metal trays, someone had slid it out from a nearby drawer and hurled it at her.
"I'm afraid hazarding a hypothesis towards any alternate advancements my mutation may have benevolently bestowed has caused you to miss one simple statement obvious I would hope even to the most asinine of observers," said the very much not unconscious Beast, "That for one to have a set of secondary abilities, one must first have a primary mutation." He grabbed another tray with his ape-like feet, the aforementioned primary mutation, sliding it out of its slot and throwing it at her with skill and strength that would make an Olympian discus thrower weep and resign.
Francesca resisted the urge to turn it to something harmless like water, still worrying about any transmutation pointing directly to her, and instead rolled out the way.
"Your frame up of Sarah was formidable, I will grant you," said Beast again. He was struggling with the straps that held him down as his feet grasped out for more things to throw, "But it lacked one crucial element. Sarah had the opportunity, and the means, even if it was questionable from whence she had retrieved that particular piece of hand-held artillery you planted upon her person, but she had no obvious motive. Like taking the hydrogen from a molecule of hydrogen dioxide. A negligible change but one that makes the world of difference. You wouldn't want to throw pure oxygen on a fire after all." He chuckled, "Excuse me my science related humour. It might be a little above you." His feet got hold of another scalpel, that had fallen off one of the trays he'd thrown, and with a quick flick threw it into the air. He caught it effortlessly in one hand. By the handle too, which was just showing off. He started sawing at the straps but Francesca had reached him again, and grabbed his one hand with both of hers trying to wrest the tiny knife out of his grip. In the struggle the strap holding down Beast's wrist snapped, giving him the leverage to go with his natural strength and with a flex of his forearm he threw Francesca away. She hit a far wall, disturbing a shelf of pill bottles which rained down on her with a clatter.
"Pure oxygen on a fire is bad, but what about strychnine in a mutant?" she sneered.
A look of comprehension and horror spread across Beast's face and his eyes flicked to the IV attached to his arm. There was no obvious visible change in the transparent fluid it was feeding into his veins, but he just knew that was what she'd done. The arm he hadn't managed to partially free. He tried grasping for it, but with only half an arm to grasp with he simply didn't have the range to reach across his own broad-shouldered frame. His hand went to the remaining straps on his moveable arm, but either in the struggle with Francesca or the panic for the IV he'd dropped the scalpel and couldn't cut through them. He still had claws but they were sharpened points and lacked any decent razor edge he could use for cutting.
"Did you think I was listening with adoring fascination while you were yammering on?" Francesca asked, "There should be enough of it in your system now to finish you off. You won't be able to sing your song of submission anymore." She turned to leave, but as she closed the medbay doors behind her, spat out one last rejoinder, "See? I can do alliteration too."
She didn't slam the doors, as with the locking mechanism blown out along with the other electrics slamming them would just cause them to bounce back open. If people walked by open doors they'd know some sort of sabotage had happened. And in all honesty there was a tiny part of her that just didn't want to watch the death throes of Beast. She'd chosen strychnine because it metabolised fast, which would both kill Beast quickly to prevent him telling anyone about the assassin in their midst and be absorbed by his systems with little trace in case anyone felt like performing an autopsy to look for poison or other foul play. But it wasn't going to be a pleasant way to go. The constant spasms wouldn't be too bad as he was fixed in place, but they would eventually kill him as they closed his throat up. She wished she could have picked a better death - a cleaner death - for him, but in the end death was death.
She still didn't want to see it though.
Looking around to make sure there were no witnesses, she darted off, back to her own room. She'd try to manufacture some files that said she was talking online to her parents at this time, give herself an alibi...