Log [Catseye, Kylun, Forge] To War We Go!

[x-catseye.livejournal.com]

Because the hurricane wars deserved a log and large masses of water inevitably will land you in trouble, no matter how waterproof the hallway is in the basement levels...

Forge stood up, hooking the thick braids of bungee cords to two opposite sides of the hallway. Flipping a series of switches, he felt the motor on his back thrum to life, spinning faster than the manufacturer ever intended thanks to a few obvious corrections he'd made.

A twist of a valve, and the nearby water cooler began bubbling, the connecting hose writhing like a snake.

Forge lowered his goggles over his eyes, gritted his teeth, and raised the nozzle of his Portable Hurricane Generator. The moment he saw fur, purple or golden, he was letting fly...

Skulking around the corner, Catseye arched her whiskers forward, ducking them out of sight instantly as she evaluated the situation. The sound of water bubbling was certainly hard to miss, as was that of the engine he had connected to whatever gizmo he was carrying. Still, Kylun's idea had merit.

And a girl that could turn into a small cat had to be easy to lob at someone at an angle, and then add more speed to things to boot.

Kylun grinned as he held his hand low enough for Catseye to hop in. He'd been meaning to suggest this maneuver to Cain as something they could try in a Danger Room practice; this would, among other things, give him an idea of whether or not it would work.

When Catseye was secure, her wiry little body snug in his palm, he launched himself around the corner, tossing her at Forge in a fast underhand as he rolled, then sprang forward.

Forge caught the motion, hand releasing the pressure regulator as he saw Catseye uncurl in midair, five of her six pointy ends outstretched. The pump roared as he felt his ears pop from the sudden drop in air pressure, and felt the hoses swell with water.

"Après moi, le deluge," he quoted, raising the apparatus. Mr. Dayspring liked to quote that about Napoleon, he remembered. Forge just thought it sounded cool.

Especially when you were blasting a ten-foot-wide barrage of wind and water at your enemies. Or hapless bystanders which might wander in and then rush off unnoticed by anyone involved in the tussle.

Meep. Being suspended in mid air when not meaning to do so was a bad bad thing.

Clearly, this was a case of bigger is better. Suiting the thought to deed the second she felt herself heading backwards, Catseye went for the bigger cat shape she could achieve, quickly so.

Kylun was blown backward by the gale-force blast.  Planting a hand behind him, he turned his sprawl into a graceful flip, landing in a low crouch, braced against the wind.

It would have been an impressive display of reflexes and acrobatic training, except that half a second after he landed he received a faceful of wet purple panther butt, sending him sprawling again.

Forge let loose a war whoop that would have done Geronimo proud, shaking a fist in triumph. Alas, this also had the effect of disconnecting one set of bungee cords from the wall. The ensuing tension, coupled with the incredible force of the man-made hurricane, dropped him on his butt, shooting him down the stainless-steel hallway like a rocket, water and wind spraying randomly.

Scrabbling for purchase, Catseye saw the oncoming boy rushing down the hallway to catch up with both herself and Kylun, spraying water the entire way down the corridor...  and with a whimper of resignation, she pulled her claws in, giving up on trying to slow herself down.

This was not going to be pretty.

Cerebro's hatch cycled open; it had been a tiring session, and Charles was looking forward to a strong cup of tea and perhaps a good book to help him relax.

Instead, he got two students and a staff member tumbling right into his chair--and, of course, not to be left out, a small tropical storm.

In his basement.

The chair's automatic brakes and internal gyroscope prevented him from being blown into the wall or tipped over, but his voice, as he regarded the pile at his feet, was by far the driest thing anywhere nearby.

"What precisely is going on here?"

Forge looked up at the Professor, managing to push one of Kylun's feet off his chest enough to sit up, despite the soaking wet purple cougar still trying to scrabble around for purchase on the wet floor. He tried his best innocent look, staring at Xavier's normally-impeccable suit, now thoroughly soaked through.

"Nothing?" he ventured, in an attempt to bluff the world's most powerful telepath through outright bravado.

As if on cue, the machine sputtered to a stop, coughing its last, leaving the drops of water cascading from the ceiling as the only sound in the hallway.

A drop plinked nicely on top of Charles' head, trickling down between his eyes to wind its way to his nose, as he raised an eyebrow very slowly in response to that particular answer.

"I see."