X-Men: A Bright New World (IC)

[Lachiyous]

Russia - Bobby

...almost, immediately. Once inside, the taxi cab. Something. A voice. Female's. Reached out. To him. From within his mind! <>Please hear me. My name is Jean Grey. You are not alone. I'm coming to help you. I'm coming to give you assistance. Hang in there so that I may reach you!<>

Huh? What. Who the--? Jean Grey?

Blink. Blink.

When thrown, the inquiry. By the man. Up front. On his destination. He might not, have. Been sure. And was, taken. By suprise! "Uh…just drive for now."

The driver, behind the. Wheel, obliged. To his new passenger, and. Customer. "I drive. Okay." Icy blues, met. Bobby's browns. Through the rear, view. Mirror. And he nodded, as well. In agreement.

Much time, hadn't. Passed, before. The dark grew...thicker. And the last, shining. Memories, of a day. Gone by, dissolved. Into night. If it weren't, for their. Headlights, they'd have. Probably knocked, blindly. Into some, thing. Or such...

...what about that, woman's. Voice? How did she, speak. To him? Did she know him? Inside, his head. His mind. He knew, of only. One person, capable. Of doing such, the feat....

Hm.

So. So then. The YouTube sensation. Olympics Figure Skater. Mister Bobby Drake, called. Forth. From the glamor, the glitz. To help someone, out. And aid, another. Human being. Well, close. Fellow team, member. To the X-Men. In the big, guy. Piotr.

Bobby, and. Piotr. Could two, individuals. Be, the any. More...contrastive. And, dissimilar. From their, nationality. To passion. Mannerisms, and. Lifestyle. Still, though. Rasputin was, present. And there...whence, the Iceman. Had been, discovered. By Charles.

And the, talk. Soon, afterwards...
========================================================================
Some Time Ago. [The Winter Olympics. Within Vancouver, British Columbia]

Two men. Two strangers. Here. With him. Privately. At the games. Two -- out of how many, and why were they NOT chicks? What was up, with them? One. Well. He was a beast. Monster sized guy. Bulky. The whole nine. The other guy...not so, much. He was bald. And it was he, that. Broke the silence...

"Good afternoon, Robert. Or is it Bobby, that you prefer? My name is Professor Charles Xavier. And this is Piotr Rasputin..." the man, with not. One strand of, hair. Introduced.

"Please Professor." the large one, interjected. His English was, thick. Before turning, to the. Accomplished athlete, too. A smile, slowly. Warmed his features, for. Bobby's benefit. "Where I come from. There is plenty of snow and ice. да. Almost year round." he gestured to, that. Skating equipment. And then to the person, wielding. It. "You would be...ah...at great comfort there. This, I am sure!" He let out a, great. Ol' laugh. Right, from his. Belly. As a strong hand, came. To rest, gently. Upon the star's, shoulder.

The bald man was, smiling. At his friend's, antics. And shortly, after. It was revealed, that. They, also. Were mutants.

Just like him!
========================================================================
[Russia]

Bump-ump!

The automobile trucked, on. Must've run over, some. Animal, or the. Like. Because the driver, turned, that. Steering wheel, and. Veered, off. Some...

The mission. What was, this. Mission, about. Again? Piotr. What took place, though? Was he, in some. Kind of trouble? In his homeland, and all. Where was Sam? What about the others?

...and. And could, the Professor. Been, any. More, vague? Seriously!

Less lights. Outside. More black, ness. Smart phone device, in hand. Perhaps getting, in touch. With Sam, with. Anyone, would. Be better, than. Driving...nowhere? Where was, he. Anyhow? Did this, constitute. As just drive? It appeare--

-- again. Once again. Inside his head. She reached, out! <>My friend. It's Jean Grey. I hope to find you soon. Can you hear me?<>

....what did, it. What did this. What did SHE, mean? How did she know, he'd be. Right here, right now? How CRAZY was this? She...she couldn't, have. Been, some. Obsessive, fangirl. Huh?

Wait. Fangirls couldn't...send telepathic communication, could they?

Did. Did she, have. A damned, part. In this 'mission' gig? WHAT was the mission, once more? From the top, again. Please.

Piotr? Jean? Uhm...

Bummmmp!

"Keep seatbelt on. American. Rough road now..." The driver informed, Bobby. At least someone, was. Looking out, for his. Safety!
========================================================================

 

[KattDclaw]

Short but sweet!

It was just a momentary distraction, but for the short furry guy it was a giant opening. He took it, rushed in like a linebacker and bowled Deadpool over before she could even take her eyes off the Cajun. She let out a loud ‘Ooofmph!’ and crashed to the floor several feet away from where she original stood. The force of the tackle stole the breath from her lungs and so dazed, had little time to react to what was to come. The hand that held the live grenade was snatched up and smashed between them. Any other time she wouldn’t have minded being this close and personal with the cuddly little bloodthirsty killer, but well, remember that live grenade part? Sure Deadpool was strong, way stronger than she looked, but Wolvie here had one upped her and he was no chum in an arm-wrestling contest. Those brown eyes narrowed on the partially reconstructed face, an annoyed look slowly drawing out to one that was more than a little impressed.

“Clever girl,” She muttered in her best/worst Australian accent. That guy was Australian, right?

Do you want me to google it?


Oh! I know. He’s—

[Insert explosion muffled by two meat bags]


The force of the blast was enough to take off her hand and everything else from the chest down. Logan’s stout frame kept the blast from going anywhere but in between them, leaving the two a right hot mess. She should have been dead by now, even with her intestines smacking her in the face Deadpool was still active.

“G-Good one...! But before I go…I just wanna say..Bury me with my money…” She spat out through blood-flecked lips, before finally biting the bullet and taking the trip upstairs. Well, only for a few moments at least.

Ah…Sunset Riders. I loved that game!

Best. Death. Scene. EVER!

 

[Remec]

Madrox -- Chinatown Arcade, NY

Jamie's eyes widened at the sight of the grenade, even more so when Deadpool released its pin. "Oh crap," he muttered and glanced about for the best thing to use for blocking yet another explosion before it went off and tested how much his power soaked kinetic energy as it replicated his cellular structure. He knew from sparring in boxing and martial arts that it did lessen the impact of incoming blows, but really wasn't keen to go experimenting with anything beyond fists and the occasional bo staff or set of 'chuks.

Logan solved that problem by lurching across the short distance between himself and the female merc, tackling her and using his body as a barrier.

“Clever girl,” Deadpool sort of muttered once she'd recouped her loss breath at having the bulky, but even heavier than he looked, Wolverine drop himself across her body.

Briefly, Jamie's mind stepped to a point where it wondered what it might be like to be laying atop such a shapely body--body armor clad or not--but quickly retreated as the grenade went off and a slow seepage of co-mingled Wolverine and Deadpool blood began making its way from beneath their bodies and over the decades old linoleum that covered the floor of the arcade. He motioned with his head to the other Jamie and watched himself step forward and check pulses on the two bodies.

He looked over his shoulder and shook his head at himself. "Gambit," Jamie said to catch his other professor's attention, "Logan will be back momentarily, what do you know about this Deadpool? Are they likely to have friends or assets to watch out for? Have they regenerative powers? What do we do now?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

NYC - Storm - "Life shrinks or expands according to one's courage." -Anaïs Nin.

[Rockefeller Center. British Empire Building. Rooftop Garden. In Midtown Manhattan, New York]

Ordinarily, the gardens weren't open to the public, but Ororo had a sweet smile when she wanted to, and she had a good cause.

Four little boys beset by a rare skin disorder and relegated to a care facility, and their older friend with an equally rare bone disorder. All they wanted to do was get to see something wonderful-- and The Rock's rooftops were exclusive enough to count. Anyone could go to Central Park, after all.

And thus, field trip, they were standing out amongst the hedges and the lawns and they were hesitant but delighted.

Ororo Munroe smiled softly at them, but quickly did a subconscious, umpteenth-time headcount. Yes, still five of them. Four little boys in gloves and long trousers and hoodies and visored sunglasses and those breathing masks you wear while you're reinsulating your apartment. And an older boy, also hoodied, though he wasn't required to fully disguise his entire body.

The four boys didn't really have xeroderma pigmentosum, a condition which would have prevented their skin from absorbing and metabolizing sunlight-- their risk of skin cancer would have been enormous. And their older friend didn't really have a skeletal disorder that caused the rampant growth of osteomas out of his skin.

But Ororo didn't feel especially bad about misleading the lady at the front desk. Because these boys really were disfigured. They were beautiful to her, but many Manhattanites might not be so charitable.

A few years ago, when Ororo had been struggling on her own with the manifestation of her bizarre, mystical-seeming powers at the same time as she'd been trying to keep surviving on the streets that had been her home for some time, she had stumbled upon these five lads-- separated, they told her, from a small colony in the sewers of similar people, bizarrely transformed people who sometimes had some small power but could not pass for baseline human if they tried.

These boys had no powers of their own, as yet, but they were truly atypical in appearance. Artie had pink skin with protruding purplish blotches, all-white eyes, and an overlarge, ovoid skull. Japheth had blue skin and moon-white hair and suffered horrendous digestive pains. The boy known only as "Leech" was green of skin, almost amphibious looking. Sammy had orange scales and a dorsal fin, resembling little other than a human goldfish. Barnell had feathery skin, a spindly frame, and a face that more resembled a beak. They ranged from 7 to 10 years old.

Evan was, perhaps, the luckiest of the lot-- he was conventionally handsome of face, blonde of hair-- he was African-American, like Ororo-- but his face and frame were marred by bony outcroppings through his skin all about his body, they looked like spikes. With his hood up, at least he hid the worst of those bone-spurs from staring eyes. He was 13.

Sympathetic to their plight, having been born with unusual aspects to her appearance herself, Ororo had taken them under her wings-- proverbial rather than vestigial, like Barnell --when she had proven unable, to her sorrow, to return them to their colony. She had become their de facto den mother and, as the oldest, Evan had become sort of like her "den nephew." She had taught them everything she knew about living on the streets and had protected them whenever she could with her own nascent abilities.

(These abilities awed her little constituents, and they gave her worshipful nicknames, though Ororo downplayed their deification whenever she could.)

Mostly they had stayed in the abandoned, unfinished warehouse loft apartment they had been squatting in in Harlem, as many years underground had left them quite agoraphobic. Ororo was, unfortunately, somewhat claustrophobic, so she had to come up for air sometimes. Recently, she had wondered if maybe they should not become more accustomed to walking around outside-- the hoodies weren't just disguise, in that sense, but comforting enclosure for children who feared the open sky.

And thus, here they were, on a "field trip," and it made Ororo's heart glad for some moments to see them out in the sun.

But the moments could not last, as moments seldom can.

As they stood there on that rooftop, amongst walking and lunch-breaking employees of Rockefeller Center, heads whipped around as one to follow a streaking, blurring, black-and-gold humanoid form as it flew past. Breaths were taken, cursewords were uttered as people couldn't get cameraphones out in time--

"Who was that?"

"Was that The Sentry?"

"No, The Sentry's just a comic book character. ...right?"

"I actually think that was a woman, is there a She-Sentry?"

As Ororo stood there, taken aback at the sight-- she had known, of course, about The Avengers and The Fantastic Four, all these other superhumans in the world, but she had not experienced one directly save her own wild talents-- Barnell walked up to her and tugged on her hand with his bony, gloved fingers.

"Miss 'Ro?" he mumbled. "Aren't you gonna go help her? She-- she might need help?"

Ororo stared at him, stunned. "I hardly think such matters involve me, Barnell. They are loftier by far--"

And then Sammy was beside her on the other side, clutching at her other hand, and while his eyes were hidden by his visor sunglasses, she knew they were eager and wide. "Yes! Yes, the Avatar has to restore balance, it's her duty!"

Ororo squinted her blue eyes at him. "You know I've never watched that show, Samuel."

Artie, the youngest, walked up to Ororo and hugged her, and pointed-- pointed out after the flying superhuman. Artie could not speak, but often times he was the most eloquent among them. He turned, and he pulled down his sunglasses so that his pale, featureless eyes gazed up into Ororo's. And those eyes spoke volumes.

She closed her eyes. This was such a risk.

If anything happened that caused her to be taken from these boys--

--but they knew her heart, bless them. They knew she cared, sometimes despite her better judgement, they knew that if she didn't want to use her abilities to help others, she would have walked away and let them starve three and a half years ago.

"Very well," she squared her shoulders. "I will see what I can do."

Sammy, Artie, and Barnell cheered exultantly, like three cartoon duck triplets having successfully convinced their great-uncle to take them looking for The Cities of Gold or somesuch.

Ororo swung her gaze around to find Evan standing with Leech some distance away, looking worried but determined.

"I can get them home," Evan promised.

"Subway maps and street maps in their backpacks," Ororo reminded him. "Disposable cellphones with GPS in case you get separated, but only if you get separated."

Evan grinned faintly. "Relax, 'Aunt Ororo.' You've taught us well."

This was true, and yet it wasn't. Ororo had taught them well enough to get along without her in case of emergencies. But she could never relax-- letting her guard down led to sometimes-uncontrollable outbursts of power, and she-- she had become self-taught in the ways of keeping disciplined.

Ororo's lip twitched in an expression that was almost a smile. "Go."

"Likely this is all just a false alarm or a publicity stunt, in which case I will catch up with you shortly."

She waited until they had begun to hurry towards the exit before raising her arms up to either side of herself, hands open, fingers spread, before the white mist rolled up to obscure the blue of her eyes--

--before the air blossomed up beneath her, responded to her mental beckon, rushed in around her and pushed--

up.

She rocketed skyward, and then--

away.

She rushed after the long-since departed superwoman, eliciting gasps of wonder in her wake as she departed on the wings of the storm.

At first, she had no idea which direction the flying woman had gone, until she gained altitude, wind whipping at her lustrous silver tresses, dark Goodwill clothes billowing around her--

--and she saw smoke coming up from The North Tower of The World Trade Center.

Her heart stopped in her chest for one beat, two, three-- not again, not again, oh please Goddess not again --but then she reminded herself to breathe and she hurtled towards the distress with all the gale force she could muster.

When she got to the hole in The Windows on The World, however, it seemed most everything had stopped. Everything was over.

There were quite a few bodies on the floor-- not the least of which was the golden-haired superwoman that Ororo and her little bundle of charges had witnessed soar past only moments ago.

Huddled next to the fallen blonde beauty was an easily equally beautiful woman with darker hair and a stripe of white. She was bloodied and bedraggled.

And she was crying.

Crying for her mother.

"What," Ororo breathed, aghast, hovering outside the window, completely stunned by the sight of the wreckage and the hurt, "what-- happened here?"

 

[Lachiyous]

Catch that invite -- Nori

Earlier.

The party. Late, to the. Party. Or, 'mission'. It wasn't, distinctly. Primary. For one, for all. To have noticed. Why, or even. Where. The young girl, had. Been. The any, a. Place, but present. When the Professor, gathered. The available, of his. Students. And sent them, off. As one, band. One unit. One team. Together. In the hopes, of finding. Their missing companion.

It was, just. As it, was. She hadn't been available. But then, not the. Every an, individual. Was always, on. The same, a. Schedule. As the, other. All unique. Each, individualistic. Including her! Eventually, of course. The message was, received. Acknowledged. And the appropriate, notion. Of a trip -- flight -- on the, ready.

Across, and over. Seas. Away, from. Home. Like before. In the past. Hers. Was it, then. Sort of ironic, that. That SHE, was. Arriving -- heading -- toward. Whatever, mysterious...foreign, destination. Once more, alone. As she, did. The before? She. She wasn't, somewhat. The loner, type. Was she? It...was just, timing. And all.

Timing...

Her commercial flight, made a pit stop. In the, country. Of France. For fuel. For services. Scheduling....who knows. But. She might, not. Have even, registered. The change, if not. For some, newer. Acquired, passengers. Two particular, female. Individuals -- Europeans, perhaps? That sat, down. Close, to her own. Location. Their chatter, mostly. Was indistinct. Save for an, occasional. "Bobby" this, or. "Bobby" that, squeal. Obviously, something...by, the. Tone of their, voices. Was exciting them...

Hmph.
========================================================================
Many Hours Later. [Russia]

It turned out, possibly. She might, not. Have traveled, by. Herself. Inadvertently, of course. The blonde, and brunette -- both gals, had. 'Disappeared' mid-flight. Giving her, almost. Some peace, of. Mind. And, a. Moment's respite. Until...of course, their. Eventual return, and. The both. Of them, gushing. On and on, about. A Bobby Drake, up. Further, in. First Class!

Bobby Drake. Celebrity. Olympic Figure Skater. Wooer of, girls. All around, apparently!

He was, also. A member, of the. X-Men. A mutant. Like her. What was, their. Relationship, with. The one, another? Did they communicate, much? Was there, much. Of an, exchange? Did she, really. KNOW, Bobby? And him, her? Some members, some. People. Guys, girls. Everyone, acted. Independantly. Had, different. Personalities. Each X-Man, couldn't. Be, as close. To the, every. Team member, right? So. So.

He had, apparently, been. On her flight! If she'd known, then. Would that, have made. Any change? Would she have, said. Hi? Would she...have...joined, the. Assumed fangirls? Heh.

...when the airplane, had. Finally landed. And it was, her turn. To depart. He'd all ready, vacated. In the distance. She could see, the gaggle. Of female followers, flocking. On. After their, fan club. Leader, himself! Drake. Was it, always like. That, for him? Interesting...

Wait. Was. Did he get, that. Exact same, message from. Professor X, that she did? Was HE, supposed. To be on this, exact. Same, mission too? Was that, why...he was here? It just...couldn't, be. Coincidence. Right?

Where'd he. Where was, he?

Blink. Blink.

Weeding through, the crowd. ...probably, escaping his. Mob...?

A daaaaash, to the. Doorways, and. She saw, him. There. At the street. Diving into, the back. Of a vehicle. With a toplight, and. Checkered, designs. Upon it. The car, sped off!

...may. Maybe, he'd. The 'nother, of. An agenda? And. And, she was. Back. By herself. Again--

Before. Something, a. Lady's unfamiliar. Voice. Spoke, within. Her mind! <>Please hear me. My name is Jean Grey. You are not alone. I'm coming to help you. I'm coming to give you assistance. Hang in there so that I may reach you!<>

...who, was. Who was Jean Grey? How did she--?

Gasp.

By this point, another automobile. Checkered, with. A similar toplight, had. Pulled up, upon the. Side of the street. A tall man -- door opened -- awaited her. Looking closer, there were. Various numbers. Upon the vehicle. With Сибирский такси, advertised. Upon its doors. Some kind of a, taxi?

..what other, choice. Did she have, right? Not try and, follow her. Team mate. Or stay, possibly. Get lost. And let this...uhh...strange mind speaker, attack her! And, did any of. This -- the all lot of it -- have SOMEthing, to do. With the 'mission'? With Professor Xavier, sending her. Out here? With Piotr Rasputin, the. Gentle giant, of a. Companion. Apparently...possibly....maybe, missing?

...in the vehicle -- her choice -- she wanted, to. Follow Bobby's, car. Strength in numbers, kind of thing. So. Hopefully this. This driver guy. Understood enough, to do just that. And hopefully, they were. Pursuing the, correct. Vehicle. And wow -- did it get....darrrrrrrrk, awfully quick! Couldn't see...very, well. At all. Without those bright, white. Headlights out there!

Hm. Was this, the best. Action, for her. To take? The best way, to go about? The only thing, she should. Be doing -- sitting in. The backseat, of. Some car. And, waiting. For some, thing. To happen?

The message -- text -- from, afore:

Noriko,

Please join Kitty, Sam, and the others upon your earliest availability. For Piotr!

Charles

It was still, saved. Within her, smart phone device. That sh--

Again. A voice, in her. Head. Again. The women's. Same one, as last time! <>My friend. It's Jean Grey. I hope to find you soon. Can you hear me?<>

!!!

How...was this, person. Finding her? WHO was she? What, was going on. Here?

...and, where. Was Bobby? Where were, the others? Piotr?

The wide shouldered man, behind the. Wheel, with a. Mouton, atop his. Head. Had been, starkly. Silent, for the entire. Time. Which, was. Either good, or. Kind of creepy? At least, he was. Doing what, he was. Supposed to. Driving!

...and unless, it was. Her imagination. She could, spot. A pair of, tail lights. In the distance...
========================================================================

 

[Lachiyous]

Gambit

[Chinatown Fair. Within Lower Manhatten, New York]

A highly competetive, enganging. Quite, harmless game. Of Skee Ball...transitioned --

SNIIIIIIICCCKKKKKTTT! -- grumble -- GROOOAN!

-- into a brawl. A physical battle. The kind of, fight. Unsettling, and yet. Unsurprising. Taking into consideration, the. 'Players'..

The Wolverine. Elder, an X-Man. The short, stout man represented. And taught, COMBAT. On Professor Charles Xavier's, behalf. At the school. He'd most, recently. Suffered the, direct. Onslaught, of explosion(s). By some unknown, possible mutant. Participant. And, some hired mercenary. His -- and the team's apparent -- current, adversary. In...

Dead. Pool. The masked figure. A mysterious, very different. Oddity, of a...person. Woman. One of whom, seemed. Just at home, lying -- preying -- from, within. The eye, of the. Chaotic cyclone, itself!

DeetDeetDeetDeet!

The phone. Her phone. Remy had, grabbed the. Device, where she'd. Placed it. Between them, during their match. It continued to chirp, and that caught her attention...

"Whoa! Hey! That's mine! Dude! You can't go stealin' a girl's phone! That is so...gah...I can't even! Give it back yah Sonnabitch!"

...that. Before. She got -- DECKED -- down, unto. The ground. By her, sparring partner. The two went, at it. Back, and. The forth. But...once more. Grenade in, hand. It was an --

winceCRINGE -- BA-bOOOoomm!

-- untimely, splattering. Of life's, essence. Red, thick liquid caked. The many, a surrounding. All, over. Explosions -- they'll do that. Best to, stay. AWAY. From them. And yet...with these two. With the, both. Of them...

Lifeless, corpses strewn out at present.

It was a Madrox dupe, that. Gave the, negative. To either, surviving that. Death-making notion. What with, sandwiching that. Of a bomb -- disastrous, at best!

"Merde!" The Cajun, grumbled, still. Beside himself. He might have, realized. The 'sacrifice' that, his team mate. Made. As before, to contain. The mite of the, blasts. And save his, friends. But..."...'gain? Was jus' gettin' back, on de own two feet. An' den -- 'fore one know it. Back on de ASS 'gain!" Gambit's boot, kicked over. His ally's, once more. Horrendously eviscerated, being. Hers, ever-so. Unpretty, like. Beneath!

DeetDeetDeetDeet!

"Gambit. Logan will be back momentarily, what do you know about this Deadpool? Are they likely to have friends or assets to watch out for? Have they regenerative powers? What do we do now?" his younger, companion. Inquired, of him.

Remy eyed the LCD Screen, of. Her phone. As it flashed the --

FOXY RICH
MUTHA PHUCKA

-- across its display. His red irises, flashed. Someone -- 'she' knew -- was, trying. To get ahold of her. What if...hm.

"Good t'ing t'ask. Even better -- w'ere or w'at all dis 'ave t'do......wit' us? Wit' Alison, non?" He frowned, at the thought. Of the lovely, blonde's. Earlier, disappearance. And couldn't help, but wonder if....this...might be a. Dead, end. Unto itself! "Dat crazy gal.." he gestured, to the masked figure. Or what, was...left of her. "..Gambit never, came 'cross de likes of her, 'fore. Even so..." he glanced at the mobile device, once more. "T'ink maybe, we bring 'er wit' us. Can't leave 'er. Can't keep comp'ny wit' 'er. In de trunk, d'accord?" Dat will 'least keep 'er corpse out from de 'ands of de aut'or'ties...

Hm. Speaking of which. Over to the, faded. White automobile. He popped, the trunk. To find exactly, what he. Might have been, searching for -- blankets and towels. Something to contain, the. Bloody hell, of a. Mess. That was, the two. Almost, partly. Yes. Blown-to-smithereens...individuals!

He motioned, to Jamie. For the, movement. And as he, helped. Out. In very, carefully. Transporting, what remained. Of the elder, individual's. Body. To-be-placed. -- errmm, careful...easy, easy..okay -- BACK, unto. The rear seat, of Alison's. VW. Towels, placed beforehand. Of course. One had to...preserve that...semi-clean, upholstery. Right?

...when it came time, to 'package' up. The masked figure, he opted. To wrap her, up. Within a blue, fuzzy. Blanket. With just her face, exposed -- and upon the help of The Multiple Man -- she was, thrown. Unto the Beetle's, trunk. -- SHUTTT! -- And, they were....as prepared. As ever, to get out of. Dodge. Again...

"No more 'abit of blowin' buildings up, eh?" Gambit smirked, to Jamie. Hopping into the driver's, seat. And tossing, the mysterious. Woman's -- DeetDeetDeetDeet! -- cell, to his companion. "De Cajun drive dis time. W'at say you play co-pilot and figure if we find out...de w'ere dat signal being sent from. Can maybe find de way wit' it, and--"

Sure enough....sirens blaring off, in the distance. Beginning to sound familiar, to the both of them. "Get de dupes, no more time. De bus leave now!" Not a minute later, the car peeled.....back. OUT. Of the Chinatown Fair location. Some blocks off -- now dark, as it was -- flashing blue lights, notating. The local police! Remy hesitated not, and took off. Veering to a side street. And crossing, over to. Another, parallel road. Attempting to, create. A gap. Betwixt. Them, and what. Was, a professional. Fully, functional. Arcade...

ZOOoooommmmmmmm! They sped, down the way. Blocks were now, present. From where they'd, been. And their, current. Location. But, their...destination?

"Anyt'ing yet? Need answers Madrox! Not de more of...." he began, demanding of his. New co-pilot. Yet ahead. Up, and. Yes. ABOVE. One -- they -- could see. Something. Or someone, streak. A little silvery white, across. The blackened, evening. Sky. If not. If not, for the Moon's, own. Appreciation. Casting, down. Upon the flying figure, was it? That. That was enough, to give. Gambit pause. "...questions?" They witnessed that -- whatever it indeed was -- head, in a direction. Southwestern, from their. Now, stopped....car. In the middle of an intersection! He quickly put his, boot's weight. Onto the gas, pedal..."Gambit's bad! But...you see dat too?" He shot a side, long. Glance at the youth, when he was able.
========================================================================

 

[KattDclaw]

Russia - Surge

Nori was late to the party it seemed. The others had been dispatched some time, yet they still hadn't found him had they? It sounded like they needed some help, of course she had little more to go on than text sent from the Professor. At least she had a plane ticket waiting for her. Things were looking up, she had to try and find the bright side in traveling over seas. Last time it wasn't as classy as coach. For a girl who had spent several years in the streets it was still pretty swanky, she couldn't help but try all the buttons and dials at her seat, even turning the lights on and off and fiddling with the air. It was interesting, if only for a few minutes. Now all she had to do was find something to interest her for the rest of the flight. It couldn't take that long to get to Russia, right? The thought was pretty crazy, the last place she ever thought she would be heading to was The Motherland. But that was the life now, wasn't it? She wasn't just anybody, she was part of a team. Kitty, Sam, and the others needed her. She didn't want to think of what kind of trouble Piotr had gotten himself into but she was pretty damn sure it was heavy. Pun intended.

The take off had been intense, Nori really enjoyed flying anywhere. It was something of a trust issue, hard to get over. But she wasn't exactly going to run across the ocean was she? Maybe if she was a little faster. Once they were in the air and settled things calmed down and Nori started to feel the pull of exhaustion. She was bored, having packed little in the way of keeping herself occupied. She was sent on a mission, it wasn't a vacation, so Nori's mind conveniently about the hours of boredom she would endure on the flight. Metal clad fingers tapped on her seat as she leaned back in her seat, brown eyes lingering upon the ceiling above her. She was dressed causally, a pair of baggy jeans and sneakers along with a T-shirt. It was as inconspicuous as she could be, though the rest of her gear overcompensated for all of that. Her gauntlets weren't exactly easy to hide, but she was use to any stares and muttered whispers she got about them. They were part of the package, the alternative really wasn't anything she wanted to deal with. The rest of her gear was stuffed into her backpack except for her jacket. She didn't know what to except in Russia but she was pretty damn sure it was cold.

Her mind kept going back and forth between the thoughts of where she was going and exactly why she was sent. It was a little unsettling to be sent off by herself, though she was only alone until she could meet up with the rest of the group. Still, having a few comrades would have helped the butterflies in her stomach, or at least relieved some boredom for a few hours! She eventually found a skymall magazine and started to flip through it, finding amusement in the utterly ridiculous stuff people spent their money on. Seriously, who wanted an inflatable movie screen? The entertainment was short lived though followed up by peanuts and pretzels. At least they had a selection of good soda, nobody liked being forced to drink Pepsi!

The hours ticked away and Nori lingered in that realm between absolute tedium and unconsciousness. It was about that time that the plane made a stop. Where the hell were they? France? She hadn't ever thought she'd end up here, a pity it was dark outside and she couldn't exactly go anywhere. Not even a chance for a picture. Bummer.

But wait, there was more! So far all the passengers had been rather laid back and quiet, so the addition of the gigging, squealing European chicks was downright annoying. She couldn't make out a word they said except for the occasional word that sounded like Boobie or something like that. Maybe they were just really excited about breasts?

Turned out she was wrong. They were more excited about the chiseled pecs than breasts. She was thankful they had disappeared into First Class shortly after appearing, though they eventually returned and with them came a few more words she understood.

Bobby Drake, was it? On the plane with her. Wait, how did he get First Class seats when she was stuck back here? That wasn't fair! Not that she really wanted to sit next to him for the entire flight. They weren't exactly buddies, sure she knew of him but he seemed more of a show dog to her, good looking and flashy, something everyone could look at and Oooh and Aaaah. Nori couldn't help the amusement settle in when she remembered where they were going. He'd be right at home wouldn't he? Still, despite not being best buds, they were still on the same team, if he was going to Russia too he must have been sent by the Professor too. It was obvious that they needed to meet up, though in practice it wasn't as easy. The crowds were large and impressive and damn...it was cold! Her jacket didn't seem to cut it and fishing out more clothing would only put her further behind. She tried calling out, though no doubt he couldn't hear anything above the clucking of his female admirers. They weren't going to make this easy for her!

Nori started to shoulder her way through the slow moving crowd, trying her best not to intentionally shove anyone too hard or cause a scene. After all she did stick out a bit, blue hair, big flashy metal gloves, no doubt the common folk were just as iffy about mutants here as they were back in the States.

“Drake! Gah!” She called out as the man dove into a taxi like the celebrity he was. She expected more people with cameras to chase him. Hm. Pity.

“Dammit Bobby!” Nori grunted her frustration, though enjoyed the King of Hill reference that fell flat on Russian ears. Hey, at least she thought she was funny. The joy was short lived though, just as Nori pushed her way to the curb a sudden wave of...something overtook her. It was a weird feeling, brief and fleeting before an unfamiliar and feminine voice spoke. It was so crystal clear she thought for a moment someone was whispering in her air. She shot about on the spot, only to find queer looks from the people standing around her. None of them appeared to be the one speaking, though that really didn't mean anything.

“Did you just...say something?” She asked the old lady standing nearby, who stared at her as if she was speaking a foreign language, because, she was speaking a foreign language.

“Are you Jean Grey? Did you...nevermind. Thanks!” She cut herself off quickly, offered a smile and sped off. She had no idea what the hell was going on, who Jean Grey was and why she was coming to help her. Hang in there? Was someone after her? The thought made her tense up and give another cautious glance over her shoulder. Shit, if someone was after her she really needed to team up with Chilly Willy. By the time she managed to find her way to the line of cars Drake was gone, though a tall man in a funny hat was there holding a door open for her. It looked like a taxi, she didn't dare try to sound out the words on the side. Instead she did what any good action hero would do.

“Follow that taxi!” She pointed at the departing vehicle, which was kind of vague and pointless at this point. Regardless, she had little options available to her, so it was this or think up another plan.

Nori dove into the back seat and slapped her hands on the back of the front seat. She could only hope the driver understood her. He climbed into the driver's seat and started driving, there was little left that she could do but pray. Only a few minutes into the drive that voice sounded again, clear as day, like someone was sitting next to her. Nori jolted in her spot, snapped her head from side to side, much to the driver's curiosity. She laughed sheepishly and offered a smile, before she raised her cellphone in a vain attempt to brush it off.

“Uh...vibration...phone. Yah? Sorry!” She muttered an apology before sinking down in her seat. The voice asked if she could hear her. Did she need to answer? Saying anything out loud just felt...well...stupid. She had no idea who this woman was, what she wanted, what she intended to do when she found her. So Nori did what she thought best, she closed her eyes, strained and forced the thought out in a way she felt would project it psychically out. What she really did was look like she was passing a bad burrito and thought really hard.

Who the hell is this? I think you got the wrong number.

That was all she could come up with. Would it work? She had no idea, probably not. She wasn't psychic, it wasn't like phone call, or was it? Nope. Still had no idea. She had other things to focus on, namely the tail lights in the distance. So far the driver was doing his best to keep up with them, despite the darkness and weather. That was, until the cab took a left and they kept going straight.

“Whoa! Hey. Mister. Uh...Sir? We gotta go that way...” She pointed behind them, though as the driver looked back she saw no recognition on his face. He had no clue what she was saying, it had been pretty much dumb luck that they had made it this far. She was in a bind and needed to make a snap judgment call. Getting lost in Russia alone really didn't sit well with her. She had to find Drake again, dammit why didn't she have his number? Nori stressed over the situation only briefly. It seemed her way, go with the plan until it didn't work and adjust, repeat as needed. She snatched up her backpack, fished out a few American bills and tossed them at the driver.

“This is my stop. Thanks for the ride!” She said in a cheerful tone, catching the look of surprise on the driver's face as she grabbed the door handle and flung it open. She hadn't been expecting that wind though! It was butt-numbingly cold! But there was no turning back now. Instead she swallowed it down and focused her energies with a loud grunt. She felt the tingle of electricity rippling through her as she leapt, arching through her limbs with an addicting tenacity. Her feet were already moving when they hit the ground, though she still almost bit the dust regardless. She lived up to her name, the electrical surge coursed through her legs, driving them at impossible speeds to compensate. She hit hard, almost tumbled over herself but managed to balance herself out in time. The cold air stung her face and went straight through her clothing as she bolted back down the street, but it was just something she would have to deal with. She had to catch back up to Drake! She raced down the street the way that she had came and turned down the street that she had seen Drake’s cab originally take. She left a wave of slush and snow in her wake, her sneakers hit the ground hard sending jolts of force all the way up her frame. It wasn’t every day she got to jump out of a cab and go full speed on Speedy Gonzales. She almost yelled “Arriba!” when she finally saw those tail lights. It gave her another rush of energy, which she easily used to pick up the pace and hauled tail straight at it.

She hadn’t really thought the moment through, not as the car finally came into view. Just what was she going to do? Knock on the window and ask the driver to stop and let her get in? She could just as well jump on the hood, either way it was bound to cause the driver to flip out and maybe even cause an accident. Instead of debating it, Nori did just what she had done the entire time, she reacted, adjusted, and moved on. She came up on the right side of the car, trying to keep out of the driver’s view (even if she couldn’t remember what side he was on). It took some finesse but she was up for the challenge of matching the speed of the car. She had a few false starts but she finally managed to get in that sweet spot where she could reach for the door handle and pull it back. Nori held her breath as she pushed herself just a little bit further, grasping the handle and flinging the door open enough to get her other hand inside the crack it created. With that it was just another burst of energy and Nori flung herself forward, grasping at the emergency handle and hefting her svelte frame into the cab. She flopped into the empty seat with a huff, covered in slush and red faced. Her bright blue hair was a wild mess, windswept didn’t begin to describe it.

“Wooo, shit! It’s cold out there. Hey.” Nori said after giving the customary shiver to indicate it was cold. She wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered a bit more uncontrollably, alright it was really cold out there. It was about that time the driver noticed he had an extra passanger, something that made him few a double and then a triple take. Nori offered a ridiculous bit of laughter before nodding towards his original passenger.

“It’s cool. We know each other.” She tried her best to pass it off as if it were a solid truth, though she wasn’t that good at lying, especially when it was complete bullshit like this. She gave Bobby a sidelong glance and offered him the best smile that she could.

“I saw you at the airport. The chicks with the big bazongas were squealing too loud for you to hear me. You here to help find Piotr too? Thought we’d team up, least the cab fare should be cheaper. You ever been to Russia? I haven’t. How’s the food? Do they got Taco Bell here?” Nori’s mouth went and wouldn’t stop. It was hard to shut up sometimes, especially when she was as pumped on the electric juice as she was. She took a deep breath and let it out as a cleansing sigh, waving one of her metallic clad hands in front of her face.

“Sorry…I get a little…agitated sometimes. It’ll wear off. Swear. So. How was the flight? Enough boobies for yah?”

 

[Lachiyous]

Shadowcat

At gunpoint. She shot him.
At gunpoint. She trembled.
At gunpoint. She pressed him. Screamed at him. Did everything she could, to get. ANSWERS!

All that, she. Might have, ever. Possibly. Dreaded, then. Came from, the taller. Man's lips. Finally...

"мертвых. He is..how you say. Dead." he let out. And spoke some, more. But. But. But she didn't, quite.....process. Anymore, enough. To hear him...

Her. Her thoughts -- her feelings -- that, of her. Beating, heart. Itself. It was all. It belonged all. To...

To...

...
========================================================================
Over Two Years Ago. [On the grounds of the Xavier Institute]

The first...time. That first day. Even during, the first. WEEK. At the school. The young girl, was. Meek. And kind of, scared...of what she was. Who she was. And where, she in fact. Was. She felt, nothing but. Isolation. From her family. From her 'peers'. From the world. Because of this...mutant stuff. And being, here. Her mom and dad, they....well, they left. Her. At the doorstep, to this place. Professor Charles Xavier's -- School for the Gifted. But. Was that what, people -- parents -- were SUPPOSED to do? 'Abandon' their children? Pass them off, when. When they became, too. The difficult, a. 'Problem'? Was that what her parents, did for her? Was she really, a problem. For them?

She had no one, here. And, everyone needed someone, right?

As it was, mid-day. Kitty sought. To get. Out. Of the buliding. It was, almost. A maze and a half, to even. Think about, finding. One's way, through the. Manyment of halls, doors. And rooms. She couldn't wait. She didn't. She used what, came. Natural.

Her phasing abilities. And then, she found herself. Out, side. Standing. Staring. At nothing. As droplets, of moisture. From the weather. Tickled her, skin.

And she waited.
And she watched.
And she hopelessly -- blindly -- wondered. Feeling, the more. Disconnected...

Until.

"Hello.." a voice. Gentle, male individual's. Called out, to her.

She spun around, her dark. Tresses, whipping. With the notion. On alert. And surprise. She thought she, was. All alone, outside. Here. And there, he was. A wide shouldered, physically. Built, older boy. Or at least, she guessed that he was older. He towered over her, for sure! And yet..."I-I'm sorry. I...I didn't know anyone was, uhm...out here and all--" she began to stammer.

"You..uhh...wet. Very wet." There was, an accent. A thick one. In his dialect. He pointed to her, as concern. Seemed to, seep. From his soft, blue. Irises.

She followed his gaze, to her. Drenched clothing, and a. Shiver, ran through her being. All she could, let out.."...yeeah...darrrnnit!" Exasperated, all of a sudden.

"Come. It...be okay. I promise." He offered her, the big. Of his hand.

Her browns glanced, at it. Then his blues. She hesitantly, placed her. Very small one, inside. His. Which felt -- the contact, itself was -- warm. And. And before, she knew. She was being, whisked. Away. By this older, boy. This stranger. Of whom, she didn't even know. His name--!

In. Inside. He brought her, in. Side. Unto the building. The Mansion. The school. She didn't know, where she. Was being taken. Or to what purpose. And just as suddenly, he. Let go. Of her. The physical, tactile. Contact. His big, to her small. Over. She whirled. Blinking. Uncertain. And cold....

Then, he ENVELOPED her. With warmth. Once more. This time, in the form. Of towels. Wrapping them, 'round her being. And it was, odd. Different, even. But for the first time. Since coming to, this. Place. Hmm --

"Piotr. It is who I am. " He watched her. She had strands of her brown, some. Locks. Matted, to her face. And neck. Because of the rain. "A bit better now, да?" He offered, a smile. And she witnessed. Just how handsome, this Piotr boy was!

"I-it..it is. Much! Thank you..." she glowed, in spite of herself. "I'm Katherine, but most people -- they call me Kitty."

"Katya. It is great pleasure."

-- she felt....secure. And safe.
========================================================================
Now. [Russia]

....

What upon, ever. Could be worse. Than love -- in and of itself -- romantically, speaking. Not being, reciprocated? Presented -- to tell someone, of your love. For them. And. And then, they...REJECT you, because of it?

Or.

Maybe. Also. Not knowing. Having, never. Had, the opportunity. To share -- knowledge -- of this, that could. That would. Be. Love. Only. Only because. There wasn't, ever. The right moment? Because of a fear, of things -- friendship -- changing? Because, of some. One -- heart clennnnnchhhh -- no, longer. Around. Present. Available--?

Was that right? Could that be true? Would she never get, to tell him. The truth. About how she felt. About what she experienced. Because of him. For him. Could she....

Tremble -- bliiiiiiink back the pain, in the eyes!

Could she BELIEVE, that...that her Pete. That he. That there was, even. An inkling of truth, wherein. She'd have to live. And exist. Without a best friend -- hers -- that a girl, could EVER. Ask for. Hope for. Dream of. Was that, what was happening. Here and now?

Her hands, shook. The gun, unsteady. Her chest, constricted. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She couldn't...act. And then, she couldn't contain. Herself. Anymore.

Her eyes -- and the essence, from within -- flooded, out. Down, her cheeks. Blurring her vision. What...kind of a world, was there. To go on. And continue, breathing. Without that person. That man. Without HIM? Why couldn't, she had gone. With him. In the first place? This....this wasn't how it was supposed to....

The gun dropped.

The tears streamed.

She faltered.

And the whole. The whole. During the whole, time. She mumble-murmured..."....no...it-it....can't be.........no..." The pain, of the moment. The EMOTIONS, from within. Wracked her. Body. She felt dizzy. She felt sick. She felt....broken. And she never, felt. So small, and alone. Like she, might. Have once. Once upon a time, ago --

<>Please hear me. My name is Jean Grey. You are not alone. I'm coming to help you. I'm coming to give you assistance. Hang in there so that I may reach you!<> She yelped, a little. At the sudden, intrusion. WIthin her mind. One of which, startled. Her!

-- Jean? She sniffled, trying to. Wipe her face, with. The back, of her hand. She'd never heard of her. What did that mean?

Her swollen browns, tried. To focus, once more. Down. Down upon, the tall guy. Before her. Him, and his grinning face!

Shadowcat was not, a violent person. Actually, far from it. Nor would she, be considered. Vindictive. By any stretch, of the. Imagination. Yet, a little bit ago. She'd fired off an armed, weapon! With the intention, of hurting someone else. This person, before her. This circumstance. This situation -- WHAT really, had it left her? She might not, have known. Or experienced many, a thing. But, she sure as hell wasn't going to. Do nothing, about it all!

....only. She dropped, the weapon -- the gun -- somewhere. It was dark. She couldn't see, where it was. Her heart drummed, within her. Ears. Loudly. She hadn't...completely...stopped, crying. Either. But...

But...

She attempted to, channel. All efforts -- heartwrenchhh - SNIFFLE - poundPOUNDpound - sniffle -- and thoughts, toward. Her next movement. She leapt, unto the man. Before her. Whom was, bigger. Than she was. On the ground. Swinging her KNEE, right up. Working to connect, with. His groin! As quick, as hard...as she quite possibly, could. Be able to!

....and she swung fists, at him. For all that she, was worth. Right at his, smug. Face! Her tears, cascading. Once more. Blurring her vision. She hadn't even, noticed the. Device, of his. Nor anything else, within the remote area...

Thus, it was. A girl, struck with. Pain. What else, could she do. But strike back?

"Katya. It is great pleasure."

!!!
!!
!

shaaaaaaaaatttttttterrrrrrrrrrrrred inside....
========================================================================

 

[Lachiyous]

X-23

[Russia]

It was -- practically, at -- the same time. Silent. Silent, the whole ride. Through. She was. Watchful. In taking. Learning. And, driving. But, when Laura. Took notice -- through her heightened senses -- of the, burning. Flames, in the distance. She broke, her own. Quiet disposition. Deeming it, important. For the contact. "...Is this something we want to get involved in?"

....and simultaneously, it had seemed. Within her mind!<>My friend. It's Jean Grey. I hope to find you soon. Can you hear me?<>

A glance. A glance to her friend, would. Reveal, the redhead. Staring. Straight, ahead. Unmoving. Trance-like. As most, the. Before! Her eyes glowing, white. The woman was, obviously. Using her abilities, to search. For this stranger. Laura had, never. Seen her like this, though. So fixated. Focused. And intent! Had Jean, even...heard her. About the upcoming, situation? Because...

Because she gave, no. Indication of it.

Laura narrowed her greens. This didn't bode well. NONE of it, did! She allowed the automobile, to. Continue, coasting. Forward, and. Ahead. Bringing the pair, closer. To whatever was, potentially. Ablaze. Up, ahead. An eye to the, rear. View mirror. She couldn't spot, anyone. Or thing, trailing them. Still. Even so. Doing something, for a. Friend(or someone that might, have passed as the closest to what that actually meant to her!). A former team mate, was. One thing. And she didn't, mean. To want to, fight. The notion. But. But. Her insides. Her instincts. Everything within, her. Advocated high alert, watch-out-for-anything. Status! Of course, this was Laura. And Laura, was. Almost...always this way!

Usually for, naught though. The dark haired girl, seemed. Never far, from the. Right track. Or train of thought. At least, where her. Instincts, were concerned...

Still nothing. From her passenger. Just what was she, seeing. Or even, experiencing? Laura had no, way of knowing. And she couldn't help, but wonder. Was it that other person's voice...from earlier? Time. Time. There was no time! She felt.

"Jean!" she hissed out. Her teeth, clenching now. On their own. As her brows tightened, to a. More, deadly. Point.

Looking at the woman, beside her. Same expression. Same position. Not one, single. Acknowledgement. Either the, way.

"JEAN!" Laura growled, out. In an attempt, to penetrate. Her companion's, half. Conscious, state. She even, reached over. To touch the redhead. Upon her shoulder. Something. Anything. To bring her, back...

...yet. -- Glannnnnce -- NOTHING. What th--

No. No wait. -- Blink Blink -- her face. Something, there was. Something...different. Jean wasn't, just. Looking ahead. -- eyes, darting...back and forth, between the road and her -- did. Did she appear...pained? Her eye brows, were definitely. Creased.

Hrrrmmmmmmmm. It wasn't, much. It wasn't much, at all. But it was, something! What did it mean, though? Was Jean, reacting to her? Or to something of her, own. With -- yes, her eyes still glowing -- abilities.

Probably the latter! She reached for her, shoulder. Once more. This time, shaking it. Gently. As one would, in waking some. One, from a nightmare. "Jean!" She called out.
"Snap out of it!"

Not a moment later, Laura. Finally received, a. Response --

-- Jean Grey let out, such a sudden. Shrill noise, of. Horror!

...that the raven, haired. 'Killer', nearly. Swerved, them. Off their, course. The immediate sound -- most fearful at that! -- from the red. Head. Catching her, by surprise. She recovered. Quickly. SLAMMING, on the breaks...

Screeeeettttccchhhh!

...stopping the car, in its. Tracks. Abruptly. -- car in park -- before she, could. Rest her, gaze. Upon her passenger. Whom was still, crying out. Blindly. Laura unfastened, her own. Seat beat. And reached over, to Jean. She shook her, by her. Shoulders. Waved her hands, before her. Unseeing eyes. Tried to calm her. To quiet her. But the no, matter. What. The woman kept...on. Making these God, awful. Noises! So much, so that...

No choice, no time, nothing else to do...

...Laura SLAAAAPPPPED Jean, across. The side, of her face--! Would that be, enough. Or...?
========================================================================

 

[Remec]

Madrox - within a NY arcade

Gambit didn't really answer Jamie's question. But that was okay, since Jamie had really sort of meant it in a mostly rhetorical way to begin with. It was obvious that they needed to get a move on and leave the scene as quickly as possible. And that meant taking the bodies of both Logan and Deadpool with them.

Jamie had merely nodded and glanced at his duplicate. In synchronization of thought and deed, they both stepped towards the other and gave a sudden, sharp, series of high fives generating several more Jamies. Between them, they helped Gambit with loading Wolverine back into the Beetle's backseat as well as wrapping what remained of the manic mercenary woman and stuffing her into what passed for a trunk in the Volkswagen.

He caught the still periodically chirping cellphone belonging to Deadpool and joined Gambit in the car. "Guys," he said quietly to the dupes and they all moved over to touch his hand and vanish back to wherever it was they came from and returned to when not needed. He studied the phone, then pulled out the special communications device Xavier had issued him and found a cable in the bug's glovebox and connected the two. A quick search revealed that if the school's unit had an app that applied, he didn't have the tech savvy to find it and run it.

I need to send a few dupes out to intern with some computer firms, take some tech classes and the like.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of sirens and a dim flashing of lights off in the distance. Gambit told him they were off and he finished reabsorbing the last of the dupes just as the Cajun peeled back and turned the car around, heading back to the street.

Within moments, they were blocks away from the arcade and their latest scene of mayhem and destruction. Keep this up and we'll dislodge Spider-Man from the Bugle's front page. As they sped along, Gambit seemed even more impatient than ever.

"Anyt'ing yet? Need answers Madrox! Not de more of....questions?" Gambit asked, his words broken up by the distraction of a flying figure overhead. Was it really a woman? Although hard to tell from the distance, with them on the street and all, it did seem to be female--even partially cloaked by mist and dark, relatively shapeless, clothes--even if a touch more towards the slightness of someone in their late teens, early twenties. Madrox looked down at the mini-tablet in his hand and flipped the screen to show current news items for the city. "Gambit's bad! But...you see dat too?"

"Yeah, I saw her. There's something happening towards the World Trade Center, maybe that's where we should go next? I don't have the skills and/or proper apps to track this signal back. So I'd say, follow up on the disturbance or let's hit up the Baxter Building and see if Dr Richards is home and can fill us in on where the calls are coming from."

On cue, the stolen cell in his lap interjected with another loud screech.

DeetDeetDeetDeet!

 

[Lachiyous]

Russia - Sam, Kurt, and Kitty

[Russia]

Smoke. Gasoline. Plastic -- all, pervaded. The evening's, atmosphere. With the -- blaaaaaaaze -- of the fiery, explosion. Indeed, what was. Left -- and could be seen -- of, an automobile. That. Had smashed, head. Long. Unto battered, down. Ruins, of what. Once, could have been. A building.

Reds, Oranges, and Yellows danced, within the. Flames, of the. Wreckage. And it, all. Cast, out...illumination. Within the dark, of the. Day. The light, less. Of night.

A good time, a good location...perhaps. As any, for an. Encounter...

Puff Puff -- Burst -- BAMPFFFFF! Self made, burst of. Smoke, with the. Scent of its own, burning. Brimstone. Brought two. Two friends. Two companions. Two X-Men. Unto the scene. And that which, was...

"Like I say. You too dead. You--" spoke a man. A local. Likely, someone. Encountered, similar. At least, to wherein. The two, team. Mates, just were!

Trying to make out, peering over...

Some meters, away. From the lights, of. Flame(which became -- guesstimated glancing -- from a car crash, into rubble). Were two, other. Figures. The one, appeared. Bigger -- from this distance -- and, was. Backed. Down. On the ground. At the mercy, of the other. Smaller, person. Whom was, standing. Over.

Hmm. Squiiiiint.

It was a girl, whom. Held a gun! She looked....it...was...really dark. But was that-- did she --

...the. Her gun. It just...dropped!

Why. Why would. Why would, the girl. Drop her gun, like that? Especially with someone...bigger than her -- it didn't make sense. It --

"....no...it-it....can't be.........no..." if one, if either the. One of them -- Kurt or Sam -- could lean. Forth, and perk. An ear. They could maybe, make. Out, the ever...soft...sounds. From the girl. Whom, seemed to be. Suddenly, incapitated...? Going through, something. Unseen, from the surface. Was she....cryin--

<>Please hear me. My name is Jean Grey. You are not alone. I'm coming to help you. I'm coming to give you assistance. Hang in there so that I may reach you!<> As like the last, the female. Individual's voice. Filled the all. Of their heads. Their minds. With her compassionate tone. Though. It was, simply. That. Only, on a. Telepathic level, and not. Physical. It was...

Then. A SCREAM.(semi muffled) A woman's! None, too. The far away, from. The sound of it. Though. Though one, couldn't. Quite. Make out.....any..thing.......visibly, at least!

Mm. The golden eyes of one, Nightcrawler. Could. Could he spy. Further west. In the dark, ness. Some. Something. Still. A. A. Was it, a....car. Without headlights, on?

??

...

Back with the, two. Figures. Closest to them. The only others, visible. Neither, seemed. To have heard, or. Acknowledged. The different, female. Individual's...almost..horror-filled cry. Just a moment, ago! The young girl, meanwhile. Armless as before, and noticeably. Distraught. LUNGED atop, the bigger. Local! Attacking him, with her knee, and...a flurry of desperate. Fists of hers!

The X-Men watched, this. Before them. From their, vantage point. Before lights. Shooting lights. Head lights, flashed. From behind, and. Over their shoulders. Turning...they could spot. Vehicles. On the way. And heading, right. Toward them, all.

Now. With the addition, of more. A light source. Both Kurt and, Sam. Could make out, the tears. Falling down, the cheeks. Of Kitty Pryde's cute little, if not. Upset face. As she continued to, lash. Out. For all she was, worth. At the man, below her...

Kitty! But. What had her, so. Out of sorts?

Who -- where -- was that other, lady's. Howl?

There was...still...this Jean Grey, individual. Communicating, from. 'Out there', somewhere...

...and. And, so much. More, the. Unknown, remained. But. But. Flaaames bursting, car lights upon. It really, felt. Like events were, heating up. Didn't it?
========================================================================

 

[Lachiyous]

NYC - Rogue and Storm

[Within Rogue's Mind]

Drip.

Drip.

Whipping head, all around. Glancing...

"Hello? Can...can anyone hear me? Is anyone there?"

Shiver -- criiinge.

"Please! Answer me....I'm....I...."

Uncertainty, within the pit of her...tummy.

"...don't know...where...to go...anymore..."

Nothing. No one. Not so, in this...*DARKNESS*

It. It all didn't, make. ANY sense. None of it. None of this. WHAT happened? WHAT was going, on?

Why her? Why--

Spark. Spark. Flicker!

Another light. Was it...

Spark, le. Spark, le. Glitter.

"I want to fly, someday. You know, dad? It's all I can think about..."

"You can, sweetheart. If you keep up those grades of yours. Your mom and I will make sure, you get into a great school where you can study--"

"What does any of that have to do with my dreams? With me wanting to be...up there?"

"Because you'll be able to attend a top flight school. So that you may become a pilot. Which is someone that operates an aircraft like a plane."

"Ohhh...then that's what I want to be, when I grow up! A pilot so that I can flyyy..."

Spark, le. Spark, le. POOF! *DARK-ness*

GASP -- swaaaaallow. Lump in her throat!

That. That was...it was her. From YEARS ago! When she was, really young. It...

Why was she, seeing. These...memories, here? What did they mean?

Spark. Spark. Flicker!

Goddd....

Spark, le. Spark, le. Glitter.

"Pack your belongings, Rogue. I expect you to be more than ready. Because we leave tomorrow!"

"Seriously? Well ah better start naow then. Where we goin'?"

"To the States. We're headed for the Big Apple!"

Spark, le. Spark, le. POOF! *DARK-ness*

Her. It was HER again! Rogue -- was THAT her name? The girl at the...

The girl at the...

That kiss --

....rogue....

Shake --

Carol had been, at. At the Restaurant, and. And then --

tremmmble --

Here. The woman. Rogue. She saved her. Then, the girl -- KISSED Carol --

RUMBLE --

Did she somehow....do this? Did she SEND her here? If so, how--?

erratic!

"Hello! ANSWER me, dammit!" the blonde spat out, in. Annoyance.

In response?

Drip.

Drip.

fists clenched...

Then. On the fly -- "ROGUE!" -- with all, she could. Muster, and. Infuse, into that. Fast-becoming, angry. Moment..

*DARK-ness*
========================================================================
[The World Trade Center. Windows of the World restaurant. In Lower Manhattan, New York]

Stay still.
Stay quiet.
Stay...alive.

....or FALL. Like she -- the super heroine -- just did. From. From one, transitioned. Moment. It was, to. To the next! Right? Any. Anyone? Shhhhhhh! Oh. Right.

Silence. Befell, the. Every, single. Person, on. Onlooking. What words. What actions. What could be, said. Or done. To make 'it' -- something -- better, than. This horror, which. Manifested. In front of, all...?

The damsel-shifted-betrayer, stumbled. Herself, after. Deceiving the savior. After, taking from her. After, reducing the. Most majestic, of women. To nothing more, than a. Crumpled heap. Rogue also, soon. Fell....

Onto the floor. Something -- serious -- bugging, her. Out, enough. To bring her, down. Too. Was it karma? Was this her, fate? Did she....slip?

"Mama…" the newly, fallen. Called out, to. To an individual, clearly. No where -- mm -- near, here!

A Guuuussssssssst of wind, more so. Than before. As someone -- a new arrival -- appeared. At the spot. The open window. The same one, as -- gulppp -- the super heroine. Wait. How did this, freshly. Introduced person, arrive in the. Same fashio -- ahhhh. She was....hovering. There. Lovely silver, spilling. From atop her, head. As the female girl, surveyed....

"Mama…" once more, Rogue. Detected, not. Anything -- or anyone -- else, kept. Letting out. In a pathetic, mess.

The blonde woman's, lifeless. Being. Laid out, right next. To the murmuring, oh-so-helpless one!

Had the newcomer, seen enough. Did this place, not. Ooze enough. Destruction. Sorrow. And terror? She broke the silence, that. Was present -- besides a mumbling woman -- with her. Own, of a reaction. "What." One that could, have. Probably been echoed, throughout. To and fro. Within each, individual. There. Tonight! "what-- happened here?"

Some. Some customers, and. Staff alike. Were still, stuck. Within Trapster's, gunky. Ooze. Others, huddled. On the ground. From Melter's, burning. Antics. Beetle mostly, focused on Rogue. But then, there were. The unfortunate, few. Whom got, hit. Battered. And even knocked, unconscious. By the team leader, in -- what did he call himself -- Gambit.

Hm. Where DID that Gambit guy, get off to. The any, how? The other three, were. One. Two. Three...given a royal. Smack down. But. But. The red eyed, dapper one kind of....just. Disappeared, somehow?

DeetDeetDeetDeet! chirped a singular, device. Of its own. On its own. A bit away, from the two. Ladies. On the floor.

People. Those, at this point. Courageous, the 'nough. To offer, or even. Sneak a, glance. Toward the, youthful. Goddess, right outside. The window. Dared not, speak. How could they? How could anyone?

...and. Then. They showed. FINALLY.

"Don't move -- no one move." was all, that was. Spoken, in command. As one, two...twenty plus men. Barreled into, the. Vicinity. Armed with, weaponry. Encased in some, type of. Black bodysuits, and. White gloves and boots. Each with, an Eagle's. Emblem, on their. Right shoulder. Before...

...the caught sight, of --

"Oh crap -- Agent down! REPEAT -- AGENT DOWN! She..." Eyes around. Eyes on, the fallen heroine. The blonde. Clearly, one. Of their own. One, that had. Been.

Out.

For.

The.

Count -- "She's barely breathing! What in God's name....did THIS to her? Isn't she supposed to be....um...invulnerable?" the man, kneeling. By her, didn't. Pay, the any. Mind to the, woman. Next.

"Yeah. Shit. Better call Hill with this--" began another. Only to be, interrupted. By some. Person. An elder, ly. Individual.

"'cuse me, young men..officers?" the voice came, back. Closer. Toward the, entrance/exit. Of the restaurant. And with it, slowly. The snowy haired, lil'. Lady. Came mousing, over.

"Agents actually, ma'am. We represent S.H.I.E.L.D." then remembering. "Hold up. You're NOT supposed to be moving. Remember?" the man eyed, the. Grandma cautiously.

"Oh yes. True. My nerves have all been shot tonight. Along with everyone else here. Including my grandson over there." she motioned to one, of the. Individuals, lying. Out cold. On the floor. "He was hit -- the poor dear -- upside the head. With some God awful stick or something. The man -- he was in a suit and -- had these...these horrible red eyes. He was simply the most scary thing I've ever laid my eyes on!" she was visibly upset, tears. Sneaking out, the corners. Of her eyes. "Horrible, it was...horrible....so horrible..."

"We're sorry about that, ma'am." a hand, reached out. To the little, lady's. Shoulder. For comfort. "Can you try and remember more? Do you know what happened to this woman here?" the man indicated, Carol's. Unconscious, ness.

"Oh my! Oh Lord. I do. You see, officers..." she mistakenly addressed them, once more. Continuing. "...it was by the hand of the one, whom was his date. The man that I just told you about. She was the one that did it. She somehow did this to her--"

Bait and catch...

"Who? Who did?" more nibbled.

Shiftttty smile, at least from the inside!

The older female, individual. Made her, slow. Labored gait. Cane-in-hand. Over, to where the. Blonde's being, lie. Helpless. Barely, breathing. Before she turned. Her attention. To the one, woman. Right beside. "This one. It was her."
========================================================================

 

[Tight_n_ready]

Rogue didn’t react to the entrance of the officers. She was clutching her head and moaning. It was still aching, a dull, insistent pressure that refused to fade. It wasn’t even the pain that was the worst, that was just as bad as a headache, nothing in the grand scheme of things. But her thoughts were following the tracks they should be, memories coming to the forefront of her mind, some that were hers, others that were just becoming her memories now. It was intensely disorientating, as memories fought to occupy the same space, to fill an experience that had already been filled.

She flinched away as one of the black dressed men dropped down beside her, but he ignored her, putting two fingers to the blonde’s neck, checking her pulse.

"She's barely breathing! What in God's name....did THIS to her? Isn't she supposed to be....um...invulnerable?"

Rogue drew herself in tighter, barely able to think straight, but praying that they didn’t realise she was the one responsible for the unconscious woman before them. She wasn’t aware of the conversation going on around her as she fought to process the new memories in her head. It wasn’t until the old, white haired woman pointed her out that another voice echoed in her head. Quiet, muffled, but certainly not her own thoughts, she thought that someone was calling her name and her head snapped up, aware for the first time, searching for someone in the restaurant she would recognise, at least someone who wasn’t groaning or unconscious on the floor.

Tears streaked her face, her carefully applied makeup ruined and streaks of mascara giving her the visage of some demonic entity.

At almost the same time ten agents turned their guns on her. She’d reduced Ms. Marvel to a crumpled pile. They didn’t know how, but whatever it was, it was terrifying, this was a woman who could lift cars, who could fly, and she’d been disabled by this bedraggled, sorry state of a girl. There was a uniform click as weapon safeties were disengaged, and the agents moved like a well-oiled machine, slickly sliding into place to cover all of the exits, all of the angles. Rogue stared around desperately, like a cornered animal searching for a way out. There was the window, but two agents were covering it, warily watching the woman hovering just outside, waiting for their commander to make his decision. He did, and they began to clear the innocents out of the room.

Her eyes came back to rest on the barrel of the rifle aimed squarely at her chest and she stared it down, trying not to panic, trying desperately to work out what to do. She had nothing, there was a score of men with weapons trained on her, each of them clearly a professional. And then a moment later there was a hand seizing her arm and pulling it behind her back. She cried out and reacted instinctively, pulling her hand back. The man in black was flung across the room and a single shot rang out. She felt an impact on her chest, and stared down at the neat hole in her dress. There was pure shock on her face. She’d expected pain, but there was nothing, it had just been a faint impact on her skin. She put her hand to it, thinking to find blood, but her fingers were clean. The man who had shot her looked even more surprised for a moment, and then they both realised what it meant at the same time.

 

[ChasNicollette]

NYC - Storm - "We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are." -Anaïs Nin.

[The World Trade Center. Windows of the World restaurant. In Lower Manhattan, New York]

Perhaps she should have expected that no-one would answer her question-- the disaster that had raged in this place was clearly a thing of terrible trauma.

Perhaps, too, she should have expected that the authorities would be soon to arrive-- though perhaps not this soon, hot on the heels of their golden girl guardian of good.

The presence of armed and armored forces unnerved Ororo to no end. If they identified her as a runaway with some sort of facial-recognition...

...but no, no, she was 18 now, she was emancipated, they couldn't do anything to arrest her and keep her from her little "brood," at least not on the basis of being out in the world.

She didn't like that she had guns in her face. That was... most unpleasant.

Never mind that she was not directly threatening any of the innocents or the soldiery personnel, an African American only had to twitch wrong in this country these days and be taken out by a hail of bullets and institutional racism.

But then one of the men grabbed the weeping woman, and the woman lashed out-- and a gun went off, the whole city seemed to flinch at that, like it was a shot heard 'round the world--

--to zero effect.

Ororo's stratus-cloud eyes widened sharply-- and then narrowed again.

And her hands curled to fists at her sides.

She had no idea who was in the wrong, here, no idea what had transpired, the old woman did a lot of talking but who knew if she was telling the truth?

They were on the verge of madness, here, walking a knife's edge.

And Ororo would not stand for it.

Everyone in the room might feel the pressure change sharply-- (Sudden atmospheric differential was not an uncommon side effect when Ororo became angry, but this was different.) --and a rush of wind filled the room, perhaps unbalancing some of the gunmen, most likely jarring the aims of the men who had guns pointed directly at Ororo.

And with little more ado than that, a massive gust blew the weeping woman out through the hole in The Windows on The World, brought her to a hovering stop just behind and beside Ororo, where a swirling globe of air kept her aloft just as Ororo herself levitated there.

If the weeping woman were the antagonist here, this would keep her from getting away.

If the weeping woman were getting railroaded, as Ororo's maternal and anti-authoritarian instincts screamed was the case, this would perhaps keep her from getting brutalized by the military-industrial stormtroopers.

"I'm sorry for this," Ororo told the weeping woman with stern, stoic tones. "Try not to look down. I've got you."

And then she swung her gaze to glare at the police, spitting each word like a cobra might spit venom: "Let's all take a minute to calm down before we shoot someone that isn't apparently bulletproof. I mean your 'SHIELD' Agents no harm-- I have removed the woman who threw your man--"

"--but you are going to stop. And breathe. And use that breath to ask more questions before trying to clap Patriot Act cuffs on the first person someone points a finger at."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Russia - Kurt - Job 20:8.

The atmosphere seared with odors so very much unlike the fistful of fire and brimstone that Kurt unleashed like incense on the world with every jaunt. And yet the darkness had a lurid cast to it, like something out of Milton or Dante.

Kurt's tail and trenchcoat both swished and swayed in the thermal crossbreezes unleashed by the burning vehicle...

...but while heat rose, Kurt's heart sank.

So much of Kitty's turmoil was inward, but Kurt was a chaplain-- he knew a wounded soul when he saw one.

And then there was that voice again--

<>Please hear me. My name is Jean Grey. You are not alone. I'm coming to help you. I'm coming to give you assistance. Hang in there so that I may reach you!<>

--that voice in their heads, like The Professor's but yet so unlike, almost The Professor's antithesis, warm where he was cold, ardently feminine where he was crisply masculine.

And yet her sincerity, her intensity, rang clear and true, as Kurt again touched his brow as though attempting to receive a better signal on that telepathy.

But instead of further thought-speech, instead there came a scream, and his nightvision gaze found another car parked in the dark--

"Sam," he murmured, though he felt certain even as he said it that this would be the elder Guthrie's first instinct as well, "please help Katzchen."

"We all have miles to go before we sleep."

BAMF.

And he was away, further up and further in, landing in a crouch on the hood of that parked car-- the one with headlights out and not aflame --just in time to see in the vehicle a pretty dark-haired lass strike an equally pretty redhaired young lady across the face with her hand.

He drew a sword from his bag, a rapier, and narrowed his amber-glowing gaze as he held that sword low and to one side, though nevertheless at the ready.

"Fraulein. I will ask you not to hurt her."

"But it has been a very long day and I may not ask twice."

 

[HotCider]

Russia - Iceman

This is crazy, Bobby thought. He was typing in a text to Sam:

I just arrived in Moscow. I’m in a cab. Where are you guys?

Wild goose chase…didn’t he say this was a wild goose chase? He must have said it. If he didn’t he was saying it now. Sighing in frustration, Bobby lowered his phone and just sat back in the vehicle watching as the snow struck the windows like ocean waves. There was so much ice…he wasn’t really complaining but he couldn’t help but sympathize with those who weren’t like him. Ah well, he was at a dead in. He glanced at the fare meter, watching the rubles continue to go up as the driver continued to aimlessly drive. He didn’t know what to tell him and to save him some money, he was tempted to just stop and continue on foot.

How can you send me to Russsia without a point of contact? Bobby thought as though he were talking to Professor X. Why did Pete have to go and get himself in trouble? Wasn’t he just visiting family? What happened to that plan?

“Needle in a hay stack,” Bobby muttered under his breath until the vehicle door across from him suddenly opened. The Olympic figure skater’s head snapped in its direction to see no one at first as it flapped in the frigid wind, and then suddenly, a blue-haired Asian girl dove into the seat.

“What the!” Bobby exclaimed, his back hitting the door behind him.

Wooo, shit! It’s cold out there. Hey.

The Iceman was staring at her like a timid rabbit ready to leap.

It’s cool. We know each other.

“What?” He blinked in confusion.

I saw you at the airport. The chicks with the big bazongas were squealing too loud for you to hear me. You here to help find Piotr too? Thought we’d team up, least the cab fare should be cheaper. You ever been to Russia? I haven’t. How’s the food? Do they got Taco Bell here?

All Bobby could do was silently stare at the girl. His mind still blown with how she had somehow caught the cab without it stopping. He slowly turned his eyes away from her to gaze over his shoulder out the window. Yeah, the vehicle was moving pretty fast. That only meant one thing. One obvious thing. She had to be a mutant. That wasn’t anything new. Strange voices in his head, blue-haired girl…nope. Things were as they always were.

Sorry…I get a little…agitated sometimes. It’ll wear off. Swear. So. How was the flight? Enough boobies for yah?

Finally shock had left Bobby’s face as his brows sank over his coffee-bean orbs. He saw that the girl was shivering and was kind enough to unzip his fur-lined coat and hold it out to her.

“Here. You’re gonna need this more than me.”

Shit, he would have also given her his sweater if wearing less in this arctic weather wouldn’t make him look suspicious. Turning his irritable frown out the window, Bobby confessed, “And yes, I was sent here to look for Pete. Do you know anything?”

His eyes flicked back to Blue Girl. “Do you know where we’re supposed to go or who we’re supposed to meet?”

 

[Remec]

Russia: Sam, Kurt, Kitty (et al)

If things had not been bordering upon the surreal before now, Sam was certain that their current predicament fit the textbook definition just perfectly. He drew his visor down over his eyes, letting the lenses broaden the scope of what he could see in the mix of darkness, firelight, smoke, and traces of late night fog.

A speck of motion made him turn his head just as Nightcrawler did although, even with the help of his mechanical vision, Sam could not make out what it was with any real certainty. Car? Robot? Some of those locals in that powered armor looking gear? He shrugged and then met Kurt's gaze as the German made an oblique gesture towards the suddenly rampaging young woman.

"Sam, please help Katzchen. We all have miles to go before we sleep."

Cannonball gave a short nod, even as his mind tried to make a connection between their situation and Frost's poem. The only thing that jumped out at him was bits of the plot of the movie Telefon, which didn't seem to apply all that much, either.

Oh, well, Kurt wouldn't be Kurt without cryptic comments of some sort, right?

He hunched down and called out to Kurt over his shoulder. "On it." Sam then set off at a sprint towards Kitty and the man she was having issues with. After several steps, he launched himself into the air and ignited his power, swooping past with an enormous WHOOOOOSH and plucking Kitty off the man.

"Whoa, whoa...what's gotten such a smart, pretty girl in such an uproar? Huh?" he asked Kitty in a low voice directly into her ears, since his blast field was roaring behind and around them. He zipped around in a circle, staying low to the ground and gliding as much as he could to keep the field from betraying their position. Not that exploding and burning vehicles and buildings weren't already putting them on the maps of anyone watching this part of the countryside.

He brought her back to where he had started from and just hovered in the air for a moment to see if Kitty would settle down. Sam eyes flickered off into the distance where his visor had registered Kurt's re-entry point from wherever he went when he 'ported.

 

[Lachiyous]

Interlude - NYC

Earlier This Day. Late Afternoon. [Lower Manhattan, NYC]

He wasn't happy, to be. Disturbed. "What is it now?"

"Yeah, uhh...boss. The girl -- she's -- here...we got her..." the voice began.

"Bring. Her. To. Me!" he growled, with. Utter annoyance.

"It's just, well....the. Uhh, your...uhm..." what obviously, was. A goon, stammered. Anxiously.

"Spit it out, you imbecile!"

"Deadpool went...uhh...back into the club. Again...I..."

"WHAT? WHY? Wait. Nevermind. Just get HERE. With the girl. Forget about that costumed clown!"

"Are you sure? If she were to find out--! I mean, uhh...I....she'd probably kill me--!"

"If you don't get here within fifteen minutes, I will personally kill you myself. Now get. Here. Fast!"

Click.

"Yes sir!" But his recipient had, all. Ready, severed. The communication. And not, a moment. Too soon, apparently. Because--

BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeep--

An alarm, sounded...from the Club!

He nodded to his, 'partner'. And they threw, their. Unconscious -- tied up -- captive, into the. Back seat. Of some vehicle. Before....

BeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

...they got outta, dodge. And were, gone!

 

[Lachiyous]

Gambit

The faded white Volkswagen Beetle, had. Fled, yet the. 'Nother of a, destructive. Scene. Before local police, arrived. This time, it was the. Chinatown Fair one. With the two, 'forces' of. Violence. Wrapped up, and brought. Along -- in The Wolverine and Deadpool -- although, from what could be. Seen, and gleamed. They both were DEAD! Still. The elder team mate, apparently. Was nothing short, of. Magical, in his. Mutantagenic healing. And the other...well, perhaps it was better. THIS way!

....as it was. Blocks away from, the. 'Trouble'. And. And yet. That's when, Gambit saw. IT. Something. A figure. A flying figure, above. That streaked, across. The sky! The two of them, had. Nothing but the masked figure's, cellular. Device. As in, any the. Means. By which, to work with. Or go, on. In terms, of. Finding their lost companion. It indeed, had been sounding its alerts -- someone had been trying to, get. In touch, with. Her....

-- DeetDeetDeetDeet!--

He asked Jamie, about that. Silvery streak, from above.

And the youth, responded. "Yeah, I saw her. There's something happening towards the World Trade Center, maybe that's where we should go next? I don't have the skills and/or proper apps to track this signal back. So I'd say, follow up on the disturbance or let's hit up the Baxter Building and see if Dr Richards is home and can fill us in on where the calls are coming from."

Baxter Building. Richards. Now why did dat sound....de least bit....familiar...?
========================================================================
Eighteen Months Ago. [Somewhere. In the Old World of Europe]

<>Your resourcefulness is impressive, LeBeau. Which should speak volumes. As I'm not ordinarily one. To be moved.<> Compliments were few, and far. Between. Here. But when earned. And justified. The dark one would, deliver them.

"Must've been raised in jus' de right way, non? Also...it don't 'urt t'ave a partner-in-crime, 'long for de ride." The Cajun motioned, to his. Lady. By his side. She remained, silent.

<>Indeed. Notwithstanding, your next mission then. Beckons a collection of manuscripts. For which I've a great necessity...<>

"State de specifics an' consider it done!"

<>You''ll obtain these from a Doctor Reed Richards. Within his Baxter Building in Manhattan...<>
========================================================================
Now. [Lower Manhattan, NY]

Gambit knew, he'd. NOT be welcome, any. Where, close. To that location. Especially after, what. Went down there. No use, bringing the. X-Men into any. Of that! "T'ink the play 'ere, is follow dat....person. We still got a mission. Alison out dere somew'ere! Dat gal need her friends. She need de X-Men!" He lowered his boot, further. To the pedal. Prompting the vehicle, to. Gas down, and follow. At a much slower -- because 'she' was flying above, and they were driving below -- pace. "Hopefully, de girl didn't get dat far...'way..."

ZOOOoooooommmmmm! The buggy sped, down. The streets. Making headway. And, coming. Close. Closer...to, what? It was evening. Dark. The absence, of light. And. And, well. Silvery, or not. What exactly, were. His/their chances...of being, able. To zero in, on that. Flying figure. That person's whereabouts. NOW? Then again, maybe the direction was. Toward. The...

The...

The...

Hm. Rounding one, building's. Corner. And, coming toward. Another. There. One -- they -- could see. The World Trade Center, complex. And the immensity. The sheer height, looming. Up. To the Heavens -- of the Twin Towers! There appeared, to be. A buildup. Outside. On ground level. For the North Tower. There were a handful, of. Nearly identically, marked(or not so). Automobiles. Some cars. Others, SUVs. All had a silhouetted, Eagle. Symbol, on. Either side.

There was a crowd, of people. Forming, as well. As if something, was. Amuck.

The Cajun wasn't, sure. About this, either. Didn't look right. Didn't feel right. Probably, was...wrong, all. Over. But. But what choice, did they have? Little to no options, left. And while, his instincts might. Have urged him, to do. Something, anything...solo-esque. He was reminded, of--

DeetDeetDeetDeet!

-- Jamie's presence, by the. 'Borrowed phone', the youth held. Which chirped again and again! Remy nodded. As a team, then...

He lowered, his window. As he was, circling. The VW by, in a casual manner. "Any idea w'at all goin' on 'ere?" he motioned, to the crowd. As he targeted some, middle aged. Joe. With what looked, to be. Some kind of mixed, mutt. On leash.

The man, approached Gambit. And nodded. "Yeah, some kinda...disruption. On one of the top floors of the building. I hear it's been going on for two hours now! Pretty crazy right?" His head tilted back, to look. Up. High above. As if, in doing so. He'd be able to discern. All by himself.

"Dat does sound crazy -- but....you sure d'ain't some kind of famous person up dere 'stead? Cause all dis fuss, non?" Remy jokingly, probed.

"Well, I..."

"I saw something...amazing, mister. Flying across the sky, to this building. It wasn't a bird or a plane, or anything like that..." a girl, maybe. Ten years old. Eagerly, spoke up. The man's dog, sniffed at her. First. Before giving her, kisses. With his canine, tongue.

"W'at was it, petit?" he entertained, her. "Did you see?"

"Uh huh. It was silver!"

Madrox spoke of 'something', happening here.

They both saw something -- someone(?) -- flying, across the. Night sky. In this direction.

The guy here, also referenced. Some sort of disturbance. Here at this location.

And this little girl, all but. Confirmed that, part. About a flying figure. If and only if. Young ones, could be. Taken seriously, and. At their word!

Gambit thanked them, both. Before pulling the car around. And finding a place, to park. For better or worse, The World Trade Center. Indeed. Was their, next stop...
========================================================================

 

[Lachiyous]

Russia - Bobby and Nori

[Russia]

The automobile, of his. Kept pace. Continuing, to trudge. Further. Through, the evening's day. The last day, of light. And when it had, shifted. Direction. And veered, off. The original path, way. That's the moment, the driver. Broke their silence, and. Informed Bobby, "Keep seat belt on. American. Rough road now..."

A pair of eyes, could be. Spotted. The every, once. The while. Within. That rear view mirror, of. Said driver. Meeting that of, his. Passenger's. Should he, too. Be looking back...

Communication. Reaching out. On foreign soil, and all. Alone, by. His own. The Olympic Figure Skater decidedly, wanted. Needed. To connect, with. Team mates. With his X-Men. Sooner than soon, too! A text message, to Sam Guthrie -- hopefully -- would, yield. Positive, reciprocating...results!

Other. Otherwise, well....where would he--

Click. Click. FLUUUUUUUNG-OPEN! The passenger door, on his. Other side. Abruptly, opened.....by itself?

Huh? Blink. Blink. "What the!" Bobby didn't hesitate, to. Yell aloud, in. Reaction.

Don't these things, have. LOCKS. On them? The. The driver -- HE -- didn't, somehow. Do that. He couldn't, somehow. Have done, that. Right? It...

"что.." was muttered, from. The front, seat.

Okay. That, was in. The native language. Did it mean, that...

Craaaackle. Brrrzzzt. FWOOOOOOM! Through the opened, door. Inside, and onto. The unoccupied, passenger. Seat. Next. Next, to. The Iceman. Now. Now present.

A girl. With, electric blue locks. Instantly, she announced. Herself. "Wooo, shit! It’s cold out there. Hey."

He could, only stare.

The driver. Too. Incredulous. And, wide. Eyed. In fact, he opened. His mouth. To speak....

Yet, that's when the. Young girl. When Nori, instead. Continued with the -- her -- initiative, filling. The void, with. Her sudden words. "It’s cool. We know each other."

She. She was speaking, about. Him. Him and her. About both, passengers. In the backseat. Bobby, with herself. Huh? This...to....settle, and. Perhaps. Reassure, the driver. Of any, uncertainty. That HE, might. Have. With HER, forced. Presence!

"What?" her 'partner'-in-crime, however. Wasn't on, any. The same. Wavelength. Clearly. He needed more....convincing.

"I saw you at the airport. The chicks with the big bazongas were squealing too loud for you to hear me. You here to help find Piotr too? Thought we’d team up, least the cab fare should be cheaper. You ever been to Russia? I haven’t. How’s the food? Do they got Taco Bell here?" she ran off. Words. Sentences. Questions. Her lips, were. Moving. Her mouth, a motor.

Not a word. Not a response. From him. From someone, she. 'Knew'. From her...team mate. Was he stunned. To silence?

It didn't phase her. Not really..."Sorry…I get a little…agitated sometimes. It’ll wear off. Swear. So. How was the flight? Enough boobies for yah?"

Then. Bobby seemed, to. Register. The situation. And more, humanly. Interact, with Nori's. Company. The antics, that she. Brought with, her! "Here. You’re gonna need this more than me." He offered, an article. Of his clothing. For her benefit. "And yes, I was sent here to look for Pete. Do you know anything?"

Yes. The mission. Their conjoined, purpose. The big man!

He continued, now. "Do you know where we’re supposed to go or who we’re supposed to meet?"

For the local's part. That is. The man, behind the wheel. Of the automobile. In transport. He watched, and. Listened, to. The exchange. Between his original passenger, and. This....new one. His eyes, ever so. Darting to that. Rear view mirror. More than before! If not, the mite. Narrowed, than the. 'Fore. And it was true. He, as well. A bit, flabbergasted. From the manner, in which. The backdoor, had been. Knocked open. And then. The girl had, so. Without warning. Appeared, in his. Vehicle.

Finally, as the car. Moved, in the. Direction that it, did. Within the night. The driver spoke. And he spoke up, addressing. Them. "I take you, both as uhh...how you say....intend?"

Then it stopped. The vehicle. For the first, time. Since it picked, up. Bobby, at the. Airport. The front door, passenger side. Opened. And in, sat. A fairly large, man. Adorned, in similarly. Fashioned, clothing. "Ты опоздал!" The new, local. Commented, in. Their language.

The driver nodded, and. Hit the gas, once more. "We wish welcome for you...in warmest possible. Not all time, American boy...girl come see us, okay?"

Out. Outside. The windows. On either, side. If one, were. To be looking. Glancing. Or even, noticing. One could, then. Very well catch, sight. Of a car. There. Yes. On his side. Oh, also...on hers. It was dark. It was difficult, to see. But...

Buildings. Buildings, seemed. To have, vanished. A little more, rural -- out here. From of course, what. Could be garnered, from the. Limited sight...

"Скажите им, чтобы оставаться на своих местах и остаться." the newcomer communicated, with. The man behind, the. Wheel.

"It important. Here on. No uhh...more suprise, agree?" the driver made, eyes. For Nori, specifically. With that last, remark. "Seatbelt on for safety...."
========================================================================

 

[Lachiyous]

Jean Grey

Some Six Years Ago. [Frost Academy. In Snow Falls, Massachusetts]

The platinum blonde sneered. Her cool blues freezing, the. Three, other...male students. As they fumbled, to help. Her. With...

The unconscious person, strapped down. In the center, of the. Room.

"This.." The White Queen motioned, a gloved. Finger. Pointing to the scarlet haired, teenager. The one....'asleep'. "...she is the most dangerous mutant you'll probably EVER see.."

One of the boys, whom. Was wearing, a pair of. Ruby shades. Was watching, the. Redhead. Closely. The whole time. Emma didn't miss, this. Yet. Before she could, address it. Another blurted. Unthought, out. Words. "Well she doesn't look like much!"

The woman cast, her. Stunning visage, before. The boy. Whom happened, to be. The other's brother. The little they know, the little they can know..."Boys.." she moistened, the full. Of her lips. With that slick, tongue. Of hers. It always served, to melt them. Disable the any, of. Their little, defenses. Before...the deserved. Lashing! <>...you'll forgive me, for allowing you. This moment. And...the freedom of permissible will. DON'T make me regret that! Is that understood?<>

One.
Two.
Three. Of them, all. Nodded, in. Agreement. Who could blame, them?

The last boy, adorned. With reading glasses. Took, one. Apprehensive step, forward.

There wasn't the, one. Thing. That she, could. Ever miss. That she, would. Ever miss. "Yes, Mister McCoy. Did you have something intelligible to contribute?" He usually didn't...disappoint.

"M-Mistress, what would you have us do here today? What should we do with her?"

She smiled. Much better. "You'll watch her closely, darlings. Restrain her futher. Contain her. If the situation arises, while I go inside her mind. And do what I must to insure..." her gaze upon, the girl. There. Still out. "...this will be your newest class mate!"
========================================================================
[Upon the Metaphysical Realm]

...from the DARRRRRRRK-ness, something was! Which spoke. Spoke to her there...<>Stay away.<>

A shadow. Born, from within. Moving, inside. All that, was. BLACK. One...for her 'benefit'. A shadow, reaching out. To her, and. Her, alone. <>Your only warning.<>

Then. It was, all...

DARRRRRRRK-ness!
========================================================================
[In the car. Within Russia]

-- "Jean! Snap out of it!"

...

Eyes. Wide. Open. Yet...

Unseeing.
Unhearing.
Un...feeling.

It was, all. It was, just.

DARRRRRRRK-ness!

Inexplicably. Overwhelmingly. SO much so, that --

She shrieeeeeeeeeeeeked.

Loudly.

Non-stop.

Jean Grey couldn't, for. For the life, of her. Self. Control, her. Actions. And yet, and still...

Before her. Inside of her. Right, right there.

DARRRRRRRK-ness!

She continued to, scream. Helplessly. For what, might. Have seemed, like. FOREVER.

It just...wouldn't stop. The fear. The horror. From inside. The --

SLAAAAAAPPPPPPPPP!

Snap. Snap, out. Of it...blink blink. What? Where...where, was. She?

In...in a car. Ooooooooh -- why, did her. CHEEK burn, so much? It was....Laura. Laura was there. With her. Sitting. Beside. In the car. Then. Then, it started. Coming, back. To her...

The girl. Mysterious one. Whom they followed. Here, to. Russia. The...

"Fraulein. I will ask you not to hurt her." A voice. Accented. Male's. She twisted, her emerald's. To peer. Out. Through the windshield. Before them. And there --

!!!

-- there. Crouched. Atop the hood, of their. Car. She could...squiiiinnntt, straaain...she could barely, make out. A...a figure. A black figure. Something. With molten eyes. Gleaming white teeth. And...and a weapon -- a SWORD, it looked like!

"But it has been a very long day and I may not ask twice." continued, that same. Stranger's voice. There. Outside, and. Atop. The car.

GASP! Jean still, somewhat. Out of her, sorts. And wits. Nervously turned, to. Laura. "Wha..? Who? " A SHIVER ran through, her. Core. As she suddenly, remembered. What she might have, seen. Might have, experienced. Upon the metaphysical plane of existence. "Something very wrong lingers...close by. It's NOTHING like I've ever felt before.." she meant to, force. This out, as a. Hushed tone. Quick, almost. Whisper like. Yet, the situation. Her anxiety. Probably made it, much more. Audible, than. Intended.

She dare not, speak. Not another word. Her startled gaze, keeping. A steady watch. Upon the shadowy figure, and. Laura. While a pain, grew. Within. The pit, of her tummy. Almost distracting her, from. The sting, she felt. Along the surface, of her. Cheek!
========================================================================

 

[Lachiyous]

NYC - Rogue and Storm

[The World Trade Center. Windows of the World restaurant. In Lower Manhattan, New York]

Moments. Moments ago. AFTER, the all. Of hell, had. All ready, broken...the loose! And when, the 'cavalry'. When the militia. When this S.H.I.E.L.D. team, swarmed. The place. And locked everything down. Demanding....answers. Answers, to questions. On what upon, ever. Had happened.

Here.

Tonight.

And to her. One of their, own. The super heroine. An angel. A...severely, unconscious woman. Carol Danvers.

"...my nerves have all been shot tonight. Along with everyone else here. Including my grandson over there." an elderly, tiny. Of a lady, spoke. "He was hit -- the poor dear -- upside the head. With some God awful stick or something. The man -- he was in a suit and -- had these...these horrible red eyes. He was simply the most scary thing I've ever laid my eyes on! Horrible, it was...horrible....so horrible..."

An agent, was there. Comforting her. Hand upon, her shoulder. "We're sorry about that, ma'am. Can you try and remember more? Do you know what happened to this woman here?" He motioned, the non. Moving being, of. The fallen heroine's.

"Oh my! Oh Lord. I do. You see, officers..." the older one, followed through. "...it was by the hand of the one, whom was his date. The man that I just told you about. She was the one that did it. She somehow did this to her--"

Other agents, joined in. Perplexion growing, by. By the every, moment! "Who? Who did?"

Handicapped, physically as. She was, the little. Elderly woman, slowly. Approached, cane-in-hand and all. To the spot, wherein. Carol lie. Then she turned, her beady eyes. To the much, ignored. And forgotten individual. In the room. The one, lying right beside. Rogue. "This one. It was her."

Instinct -- protocol? -- took, over. Before one, any. Knew it, weapons. GUNS, were pointed. Agents, armed. And ready. This was, NOT. Play time. Nor pretend. And. And as to, the 'guilty' one...

Five agents surrounded, her. Greeting her, with the. Barrels of, their. Weaponry. One, from the rear. Seized her, arms. To detain her. No questions. Quite simply, they. Believed what, was. Just spoken. That this person, did it. That she, was guilty. Somehow. Someway. Like the old lady, stated. It was her!

...yet...

FLLUUUUUUUUNNNNNNGGGGGGG -- swwwwwwwiiiiiinnnnggggg! Like paperweight, the agent was tossed.....clear...across.....the room!

-- BANG! Instinct, once more. One, in the front. Fired, at Rogue. Point blank. Dead on. Right, in her. Chest. Though. Though. Yet...

NOTHING.

The girl -- she, somehow -- was....fine! How? The bullet, didn't pierce the surface. Of her skin. She wasn't, bleeding. She wasn't, even....fazed! The only indication, that she was. Shot at, a tear. In her formal dress. Where it must have, split. Through. But...

The agents looked at, each. The one, another. They looked at Carol. Then. Back at their, target. It couldn't be....

Not possible.

GUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT of wind, burst through. Taking away the 'victimized girl', on its. Current. And bringing, her. Out. Out and over, near. The opened window. Right, beside. Another newcomer. Another female individual. Perhaps, someone. Equally as....mysterious?

???

Silvery tresses twirled, about. As she, continued. Hovering(and now guarding Rogue protectively) to the, entrance-exit. Of that open window. After she spoke, to the female individual. WIth whom, she just...extracted. The newcomer's words, were focused. Toward the assailants. "Let's all take a minute to calm down before we shoot someone that isn't apparently bulletproof. I mean your 'SHIELD' Agents no harm-- I have removed the woman who threw your man--"

She spoke, truth. Didn't she? "--but you are going to stop. And breathe. And use that breath to ask more questions before trying to clap Patriot Act cuffs on the first person someone points a finger at."
========================================================================
[Within Rogue's Mind]

No one. No thing. Around. Here. To give her....help. Guidance. To make this, nightmare. This *DARKNESS*...go away!

No.

She. She was, by. Herself. On this one. On her, own. And, it didn't. Ease her, pain. Settle her, boggled. Mind. Not knowing, exactly.....how...she came, to be. HERE.

A kiss.
The kiss.
Her kiss...

Spark, le. Spark, le. Glitter.

"Hope ya don' mind mah tellin' ya this -- just 'bout the most pretty of girls Ah've met"

She could bare, witness. To an adolescent, boy. With straw blonde, locks. And ocean blue irises. He was speaking, with. A younger....

"Rogue, ain't it? Name's Cody. Care to walk together?"

Spark, le. Spark, le. POOF! *DARK-ness*

....why was she, experiencing. This. These....images. These...memories? For what purpose, could they. Possibly---

....what was the connection? What kind of, perverse. Joke. Was there, wherein. She, and this...person. This Rogue, were to be. Entwined...?

Carol sought truth. As she gazed, desperately. Unto the...*DARK-ness* Maybe. Maybe this, other. Woman -- could she be, present. HERE, too?

Was that, even possible?

"CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?" she let, out. From her lips, to be. Swallowed. By the blackness, around. "IS ANYONE....anyone....out there?"

Spark, le. Spark, le. Glitter.

"I...I don't understand. HELP me understand please. If you love someone -- like you both are SUPPOSED to -- then how? WHY is this happening? How cou--"

"Sweetheart, your father and I will always love each other. It's not that easy to explain..."

"What your mother is trying to say is that sometimes things happen. And they are beyond our control. We can only do the best, with what we are given. But honey, this doesn't mean that we love you any less. You are our greatest of achievements, in this world.

"We love you so, so much..."

That dreadful day, her....her folks, split. From one another. Breaking their vows.

Spark, le. Spark, le. POOF! *DARK-ness*

"......shit......."
========================================================================
[The restaurant]

Dazed, and. Confusion. Were the, antics. Of many, the. Ment. Much including, the. Storm of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Whom, the Free flowing. WIND, jostled. And then, some. How. Before the one, the all. The every an abled. Iris. Same, said. 'Wind' took the girl. The woman. The one, responsible. For the super heroine's, fall!

Screams.
Gasps.
Fear.

There were still, plenty. Of civilians here. Tonight. And THEY have, all had. The hell of an evening! When would it, just. End? What the never, ending. Terror...

And the cavalry? The agents? What did they, decide. To do? "--I repeat. 0-8-4! TWO of them! We do NOT know anything about---" someone was calling, in. Reporting. The situation..."Yes, we need MORE backup. She's still DOWN!"

Others. Befuddled. Bemused. Watching the floating, woman. With long, shining white. Threads of hair. The agent, that was thrown. Across the room. From the, 'fore. Unconscious.

"You...you both are going to have to come. With us. Until we get...to the bottom of this whole situation. We...need to account for EVERYTHING that's happened. Here tonight. From everyone." The agent, speaking to the. Both of them. Took a step, forward. Bravely. Though, cautiously. His weapon, was lowered.

Was he being hostile?
Was he being civil?

What could be, thought. From. From one 'side', to the. Other...?

...and. Long, the 'go. Forgotten. The singular, a. Device. Of 'some' patron's, tonight. On the floor. Away. And, yet. Still. Chirping!

DeetDeetDeetDeet!
========================================================================

 

[Remec]

Madrox -- Heading towards the disturbance (NY)

Jamie Madrox sighed to himself and shook his head slightly.

This was not how he had envisioned returning to New York. He had pictured learning how to control his power and revisiting the Baxter Building, finally getting past that automated receptionist, and thanking Dr. Richards personally for having sent him to see Professor Xavier in the first place.

But this...losing track of Dazzler...getting halfway blown up by a manaic mercenary with a motor-mouth...chasing said maniac in a Volkswagen Bug through busy city streets and crashing in the middle of an arcade in Chinatown...having to pile one seemingly dead maniac along with what they hoped would be an eventually recuperating Logan in the the bug's trunk...and, now, heading to see what the commotion at the World Trade Center was all about...this was just crazy. He'd even said so.

"This is crazy," Jamie had told Gambit after they parked the car and were walking back down towards the WTC. "From what those people on the street were saying, there could be almost anything happening up there. How do we know it's anything we should be concerned about? That it has anything to do with what's become of Alison?"

Naturally, the rejoinder had been along the lines of "How do we know it's doesn't?", only with lots of broken gaps in the speech--like listening to Bill Shatner--and given in a really mangled French accent. (Like listening to Inspector Clouseau doing a Shatner impression.) So Jamie had shrugged and tagged along. Now they were on their way to the restaurant where the problem appeared to be...how Gambit knew about a back way up they were able to access since the emergency had caused the elevators to be locked down, Madrox couldn't even imagine to guess at.

"Almost there," he called to Gambit who was behind him about thirty or so feet. "What are we going to do when we get there? 'Cause you know the cops or whoever aren't just going to let us waltz our way in, right?"

 

[Tight_n_ready]

Rogue - Outside Windows on the World

Rogue had expected to gain abilities from the strange blonde woman, but suddenly becoming bulletproof had been very unexpected, and she certainly hadn’t intended to send one of the men flying across the room, she’d just jerked her arm…

That was all surprising enough, but it was as nothing to when she was suddenly lifted from the floor of the restaurant and swept out of the window, a sudden howling wind surrounding her and drowning out her own scream of shock and fear. That scream petered out when she realised she was not in fact plummeting to her death and that the howling wind was not as a result of gravity but in fact was holding her in it’s strange, icy cold embrace.

She stared in shock between the tall, dark skinned, silver haired woman, and the armed agents, realising that she was now the focal point of some kind of confrontation between the two groups. She didn’t even know this woman though… who was she? And why was she helping her?

As was of course the case, the advice to avoid looking down immediately necessitated the satisfaction of such an urge, and Rogue’s jaw and fists tightened in fear at the height at which she was suspended. Fortunately the howling wind surrounding her limited the breaths she could take, and probably assisted in preventing a struggle.

Clearly this girl was not a friend to the agents, but it also didn’t sound as if she were particularly friendly towards Rogue, whatever her actions to preserve her life, or at least her freedom, however temporarily.

It seemed however that the silver haired girls actions had introduced some degree of calm and reason into the situation and the man who appeared to be the leader took a step forward, his gun lowered, to offer at least some sort of deal. It was a deal that Rogue did not want to accept, she had been training with Mystique for years, and though she had never fully explained her operations, she knew that men like this were precisely who she was operating against.

And yet Mystique had made her suck the very life from the woman now sprawled across the floor, a woman who it seemed had arrived to help people.

And there was still that damn beeping sound coming from somewhere inside the restaurant, it’s quiet but insistent chirp still somehow penetrating the howling shell of wind about her form.

 

[ChasNicollette]

NYC - Storm - "People living deeply have no fear of death." -Anais Nin.

[The World Trade Center. Windows of the World restaurant. In Lower Manhattan, New York]

And the cavalry? The agents? What did they, decide. To do? "--I repeat. 0-8-4! TWO of them! We do NOT know anything about---" someone was calling, in. Reporting. The situation..."Yes, we need MORE backup. She's still DOWN!"

Others. Befuddled. Bemused. Watching the floating, woman. With long, shining white. Threads of hair. The agent, that was thrown. Across the room. From the, 'fore. Unconscious.

"You...you both are going to have to come. With us. Until we get...to the bottom of this whole situation. We...need to account for EVERYTHING that's happened. Here tonight. From everyone." The agent, speaking to the. Both of them. Took a step, forward. Bravely. Though, cautiously. His weapon, was lowered.

Ororo was a passionate, expressive woman. She had read many books in her seclusion with her little brood of runaways, some to herself, some aloud to the kids. Her favorite books to read for herself were those by Anais Nin. Something about the woman's eloquence spoke to her, and she strove to be just so eloquent in her own life-- to choose words of such import, such responsibility.

But to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent who stepped forward to negotiate with them, she did not immediately choose any words-- did not immediately speak.

She simply narrowed her eyes, and yet the narrowing of her eyes was... eloquent in its own right.

She had been the recipient of many gladhanded entreaties when she had been struggling her way, orphaned, through New York's foster system-- and many of these had simply been an insincere disguise for another form of manipulation or control. Ororo was doing her best to put her prejudices aside, to not let them color her wisdom in the face of this. But it was... difficult.

Forces clashed in her brain, and the aftershocks rattled out to her subconscious-- causing, involuntarily, the mild electrokinetic ionization of the local atmosphere. Static might begin to crawl along metal surfaces inside the restaurant, to interfere with electronic devices, perhaps causing HUDs to glitch, or sparks to zap SHIELD Agents like they'd just walked across a carpet in dry winter air.

(That chirping sound in the near distance wasn't doing any kind of thing to help her vexation levels.)

"You want us to trust you," she decided after a long moment. "Then you should ask your men to lower their weapons, not just your own. Perhaps you could also do something about your friend who is shouting-- and do something about that infernal chirping noise. You desire answers-- I require that no-one be attacked before the truth is discerned. Show us that the latter will not occur, and I will do my best to facilitate the former."

She glanced, then, at the young woman whom she had so unceremoniously suspended so many hundreds of feet above the ground-- surely an untenable situation for anyone, and yet she was handling it with grace, aplomb, and keen observing focus.

"What say you, sister?"

"If these men show that they can take their fingers off of the trigger for the time being, will you talk this through with them without, perhaps, throwing anymore of them?"

"I am not powerless. If they would treat you inhumanely, I would help you to the best of my ability."