Bleeding: Over
Sep. 21st, 2006 06:51 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsOroro finally locates one of the wayward students. And things do not go well.
The music that had been audible from the street was almost a physical throb as she passed the hatcheck of the latest club. OPM was low-lit and did not have a straightforward layout, spread across two floors and subdivided into multiple areas for the bar, dancefloor and various lounges, but it had the right atmosphere. If the line to enter had been any indication this particular club catered to an international crowd, and appeared equally mutant-friendly if the hatcheck man's conversation with a dapple-skinned girl was anything to go on. Still, it was only one option among many in Monte Carlo, as it was turning out.
There were some who might've considered the pounding music almost soothing, but to Ororo it merely grated against her already tightly-strung nerves. She and the others had been at this for some time already this evening, and though the club scene was just starting to pick up now that true darkness had fallen outside, she had had enough. Nevertheless, she knew she would not be stopping until she or one of the others located Jennie, Manuel, or Marius, and convinced them to come speak with them.
Pressing through the crowd, Ororo allowed her eyes to adjust to the erratic lighting. The man at the door had said there were two levels, and it was best to take this as professionally as possible. She would start at the bar and work her way through the club, though with only one person it was impossible to guarantee she wouldn't just miss them completely, by accident or otherwise. Still, the pure volume of clubs and possible hangouts for the students in Monte Carlo necessitated splitting up. With a grimace she headed off to the bar, trying her best to elude any 'friendly' strangers along the way.
There had been something sticky on the bar. Marius moved to wipe his hand on his slacks, a twitch of muscle pulling the curving teeth of his palm farther inwards and away from the fabric. The drinks were a bit overpriced, but less watered-down than some, and right now they could afford it. He could have done without the jostling, as well as the prospect of navigating three drinks across the dancefloor, but Jennie was, yet again, in an odd mood. Easier to play waiter than to deal with it. With a faint snort of irritation, Marius fidgeted again with the collar of his shirt and waited for their drinks.
There was the bar, ahead of her, crowded with young men and women in various dark-colored outfits. Her eyes passed over each one swiftly until... "Marius?" She had seen the footage from the tapes and it did seem to be him, but she had been looking for long that she almost suspected it was a mirage of some sort.
Moving as quickly as she could towards the bar, she approached the dreadlocked young man, reaching out to lightly touch him on the forearm. "Marius?" she asked again.
Marius had been so intent on studying some incongruous piece of 1920s pop art hanging next to the bar that the touch to his arm came like an electric shock. He whirled, evoking an enraged squawk from a patron close enough to come in contact with his elbow, and only the split-instant of recognition kept him from physical retaliation. If the luminous white hair hadn't confirmed it, the genetic signature would have. Ororo. The headmistress of Xavier's. Here.
"Ms. Munroe?" For a moment Marius literally could not think of anything beyond that simple identifier. Then, with slow, incredulous movements, he turned to look around. "Did I blink an' overshoot on a teleport?"
Removing her hand, Ororo shook her head, quickly assessing Marius's physical state. Despite the discolored skin and odd eyes and hair, he looked healthy. That was strange, but nothing about this situation had ever gone according to plan. "No, you are still in Monte Carlo. As am I. We have been looking for you, after we discovered that Jennie had disappeared." Another quick glance around showed her that the girl was nowhere in sight. "I am glad to see that you are well."
Marius grinned. "Glad to be well. Been a nice change of pace from all the malingerin' in hospital. Had some rough spots, but not so bad, really." Despite the calmness of Ororo's tone there was a hidden edge there, and her unease bolstered Marius' own. His body was tensing automatically. He tried to shove it back, then cocked his head, puzzled as her words registered. "Lookin' for . . ? Jen's right here. Quite, as a matter of fact. There some sort of problem?"
"School has started, Marius, and Jennie is very conspicuously not there... She lied to the school and she lied to her father, so we became worried." Ororo looked at him curiously, as if she couldn't understand how he didn't know this. "But if she is here, that is good. We will be able to bring her back to the school and let her father know she is all right."
Marius scratched his head, forehead creasing. "Term's . . ? Ah, right. America is victim to a cruelly arbitrary school-year. Forgot that." He clung to that bit of reasoning while he tried to work out the rest. Jennie lied? She'd never told him that she'd called the school, but he'd assumed . . .
This was getting too confusing. Marius shook his head. "Well, it's all been some sort of oversight, I'm sure. Young an' toothsome, cuttin' a swath across Europe with your mates an' that. Time does slip away." His tone was light, but the worm of unease was now barbed with the slightest hint of panic. 'We will be able to bring her back to the school . . .'
"Mm, yes, I suppose it does..." Even if Marius had forgotten, there was no way that Jennie had. She had known she was expected at the school and tried to cover her tracks, however badly that had turned out. "It seems you have made a few friends along the way, as well." The statement was deliberately neutral, though she had to repress a shiver at the thought of the still, glass-faced girl they had left at the police station.
"Ah, yeah . . . I am the friendly sort. Mates across three continents now." The statement lilted uncertainly at the end. The bartender was trying to tell him his drinks were ready, but he made no move to claim them. Something was definitely wrong. Something he wasn't getting. With the small amount of Manuel's power he still had in his system the discomfiting trill behind her words was obvious, it crawled up his neck like the grate of a fork across a plate. The unreadable look in the headmistress' brown eyes suddenly felt all too clear.
All around them, the club's patrons shifted and ebbed, impatiently trying to push past the two people chatting at the bar. Ororo stood her ground, unwilling to move away now that she had Marius so close at hand. "We found the girl, Marius," she murmured, "and her nurse. I do not know where you found her, or how she came to be with you, but I hope... I hope that things are not as they seem."
Penny. It all fell into place, and Marius' hands closed around the mouths on his palms almost convulsively. The unease, the determination, the faintest tremor of outrage -- everything he'd been picking up on but couldn't place. They found Penny.
"It's . . ." The start of a sentence formed on his lips, but Marius couldn't think of anywhere to go with it. What could he follow with? 'Not what it looks like'?
It was exactly what it looked like.
Oh, Marius. What have you done. Ororo tried her best not to show the disappointment and revulsion she felt, but it was a losing battle. "Marius," she said, ignoring the impatient bar patrons trying to get the bartender's attention between them. "Please. I know you have been through many difficulties, but this is not the way to deal with them. Your friends at the school are concerned for you, the teachers as well... I know your parents are too. If you would come with us, I know you would set their minds at ease, and we can deal with any... unpleasantness that has happened."
'Your parents.' Against the mounting churn of shame and guilt those two words took him like acid across the face.
Heedless of the press of bodies around them, the boy took one step backwards and disappeared.
Immediately thumbing on her comm, Ororo spoke quick directions to the others, informing them of her discovery and the location of the club. Already she was on the move, heading for the stairs in the hopes of finding Jennie or Manuel still in the building. The deep pounding of the bass punctuated her steps and her thoughts - We were so close. So close.
The kids may be found, but nothing about this situation is clean.
Manuel sat in one of the casino's overstuffed chairs, absently swirling his Courvoisier in its goblet back and forth. "It is _good_ to be able to enjoy some of the finer things, don't you ..." he started to say to Jennifer, then doubled over in an explosive coughing fit, nearly spilling his drink onto the plush carpets. "Gah! It is good to be able to enjoy the finer things in life, don't you agree?" he said once his chest had stopped spasming. It still burned when he breathed too deeply, but he had no time for trifles right now. They had bigger things to worry about.
Jennie hadn't wanted to come out at all. Both boys had practically dragged her out of her self-imposed isolation. She knew that the evening would only go downhill. And sometimes she hated being right.
"Jesus Manny, don't inhale the stuff, what in the- AH!" Jennie turned and jumped as Marius appeared suddenly before them.
"Goddammit,, Marius."
Manuel normally could feel Marius coming from a mile or so off, but for some reason he didn't catch him this time. He spasmed almost as badly as he had during the coughing fit, but as then he managed to not spill his drink. "Marius! What a pleasant surprise. Come to enjoy a little relaxation?" he asked politely while trying to steady his hands.
"We have to go," Marius said, completely ignoring the stares and the gags at the sulfur-stench of his teleportation. There was an entire dancefloor of people between them and the bar, but that was nowhere near far enough. "I'll fetch Penny an' you get out an' we'll meet at the trainstation. Come on."
"Wait, wait what?" Jennie said, feeling increasingly panicked.
"We're goin'!" Marius snapped, voice mounting against the throb of the music. "Look, we just -- we have to go all right? I'll explain later, just go!" There was no time for this, there was no time at all. Need triggered instinct, instinct triggered response. Unnoticed and unknowing, barbs strung and buried for nearly two months pulled taut.
Manuel rocked with the intensity of the panic. Why hadn't he noticed it before? Didn't matter, really. He could see it now like a wave of yellowish-red swamping everything in sight.
They had to leave.
Right now.
Manuel unleashed his power and let the dancefloor go mad. It would cover their escape and slow down the Enemy who was out there.
Somewhere.
The hot, sick ball of panic was back. Jennie clutched at her stomach and shivered. But a small part of her wanted to demand why they were running again. That they couldn't keep running. That she wanted to go home, dammit.
She never got the chance to speak up, however, because Manny grabbed her wrist and jerked her to her feet.
Marius was already moving as they began to run, slipping Between in a whirl of sulfur and darkness. He didn't want to leave them, but he had no choice. All he could do was get Penny. Penny could survive Between. They would meet back up at the trainstation, and then they would -- Marius didn't know.
Anything as long as it was away from here.
Thanks to Manuel's influence, half the staff find an entire club standing between them and their wayward students. The skirmishes are brief, but cost precious time.
The atmosphere in the dance club was energized but relatively calm one minute, and chaotic the next. Ororo didn't know any other way to describe it as the crowd collectively seemed to shift over the edge, the churning, writhing bodies suddenly jostling her, then worse. A fist flew at her face and she dodged just in time, shocked that violence had broken out so abruptly. It wasn't just a fluke, though, as another knot of bodies began to pummel each other, and several more patrons converged on her, anger and fear in their eyes.
"Please!" she cried, holding up her hands in a futile attempt to calm them down. "I am not here to harm any of you." In truth, she didn't know why they were panicking, only that the danger was suddenly very real, and very imminent.
"Is that a fact?" said one of the encroaching patrons. Hairless purple skin alternated dusky and overexposed under the throb of the clublights, rabid paranoia gleaming in his eyes. "And your word is solid, no?"
The swing at Ororo's face trailed mist -- but not from the machine generating it for the dance-floor. This vapor glowed lavender under pulsing spotlights. The punch was only distraction. Tendrils of mist reached for her as the fist that flew past her ear dissolved, swirling forward like a living thing to seek out nose and mouth.
Ororo backed away as quickly as she could, though a moment later she regretted that decision. There were patches of space on the floor, true, but there were also wildly flashing lights and the artificial fog that wafted over the entire panicked scene. The lights she could handle - Danger Room scenarios with Alison had more than inured her to those - but the fog mixed with the mistlike coils from the angry mutant advancing on her.
People not quick enough to follow Ororo's retreat started hacking, some falling to their knees. The rest of the mutant's frame diffused into smoke that mingled and merged with the fog machine's, his crazed smile disappearing last like the grin of the Cheshire cat. The sentient mist billowed across the dancefloor to pursue her, and the air around thrummed with sounds that weren't quite words:
"Leaving already?"
"Sir, I do not want to hurt you!" Ororo asserted again, her eyes already clouding over as she summoned up a wind around her. It was enough to keep the mutant from coming too close, though more of the other clubgoers seemed to be succumbing to the mist.
"I'm touched. Fortunately, I have nothing to hurt!" The mist dragged stubbornly against the wind to curl across scuffed floorboards. The bystanders nearest the source thrashed crazily, half a dozen people gagging for breath. A few feet away from Ororo one of them began to dryheave.
If it had just been her, Ororo would have tried to reason with the man. If it had just been her, and there were not more pressing issues at hand, she would have been more patient. As it was, however, other people were suffering and she still had to find Marius, Jennie and Manuel. "I have tried to dissuade you," she said, her hair dancing around her as the winds gathered. "I have tried to be reasonable. But since you are threatening innocents, I am afraid you must stop, now." At that final word she spread her arms, an enormous gust of wind sweeping through the club to clear the air and send the purple mist spinning away, over the heads of the other patrons and through the room.
The mist dispersed there was a noise that might have been a scream, or the closest approximation that could be given with the use of nothing but the vibration of air molecules. Whatever it was, the pump of bass almost swallowed it. As the air settled a fine cloud of mist rose to hang near the lights and wires like exhaled smoke. The vapor rippled, trying to cohere, but slowly. Very slowly. It didn't look like her attacker would be any trouble for quite some time. The club was still in an uproar, but the dispersal seemed to be helping the mutant's victims.
Moving, she had to keep moving... Eyes clearing, Ororo took off once again towards the stairs. "Kurt, Marie, status," she said into the comm as she ran. "Marius is no longer in the club; I fear the others have left as well. We need to follow them, now."
It was very difficult to find three young mutants, Kurt was rapidly drawing the conclusion, when you were in a club full of young mutants. Especially when he didn't know the interior of the building well enough to teleport around, and couldn't be sure no one would be in his chosen spot if he did.
The was no warning, no smells, no sounds. Kurt was suddenly knocked off balance by a very tall thin man. The man said nothing as he lunged for Kurt again, just feeling the sudden overwhelming need to hit someone, anyone.
Kurt staggered, but recovered quickly to teleport out of the way of the lunge and behind the man, aiming only to get out of his way and continue the search. Whatever was going on, after all, there was an empath involved. It was an easy step from there to the reason this man was attacking him.
The man surprised Kurt by teleporting himself behind him, and then attempted to pull the shorter man's legs out from under him.
That... would make things more difficult, although not insurmountable. He had a suspicion the other man wasn't really a fighter, after all, sudden aggressive urges or not. So, he turned and aimed a careful punch at his jaw.
Soundlessly, the man teleported, and re-appeared behind Kurt again, cuffing him on the side of the head.
When in doubt, fall back on the tried and tested. Kurt grabbed the man's arm and launched into a rapid series of teleports, none taking him more than an inch or two from where he'd started, owing to the crowdedness of the club.
Disoriented, the other man teleported out of Kurt's grasp. His teleport sent him reeling, and he had to teleport again to avoid colliding with another patron. He appeared at Kurt's side, somewhere in the melee his shirt had torn open, revealing a large mouth on his chest.
Kurt stepped back, eyeing him warily and ready to ward off another attack. "Will you stop?"
The instincts that had driven the man earlier disappeared like smoke. Now suddenly very aware that he was in a bad situation, the man merely shook his head and smiled.
"I'm gone."
And with that, he disappeared.
Kurt took a breath, relieved, then turned to continue his search.
Marie had barely entered the club when panic seemed to break out amongst the patrons. The fights didn't appear to have any rhyme or reason, just chaos spreading through the crowd. Dodging out of the way as one girl tried to jump her, she found herself struggling to separate two guys in fist fight without hurting either of them. "Stop! What are y'all doing? Everyone just calm down!" she cried out, even though no one seemed to be reacting to her words.
Bulwark was officially pissed-off. Here he was sitting in a club looking to enjoy a couple of beers before heading back to school and now all Hells had broken loose. Worse yet, the Italian girl he was dangling on his knee had leaped to her feet and run into the chaos, screeching something in her mother tongue.
Standing up himself, he cracked his knuckles, slammed down the rest of his beer (Some weak-ass brew from Spain, of all places. He missed a good German or Dutch beer) and got up to look to express his displeasure.
No sooner would Rogue break up one fight, then another just as big or larger would break out next to her. What in tarnation is goin' on here? It just didn't make sense. People were swinging wildly with no purpose or skill. Dodging a blow meant for her belly, she flew up above the crowd for a moment, then landed in front of a large man who had just risen to his feet. She eyed him cautiously for signs of the wild eyed panic that seemed to be flowing through the crowd and held up her hands appeasingly. "Easy sir, Ah'm just here to help."
Bulwark wanted to fight. He _needed_ to fight. And here this American girl was offering him one. Normally, he'd never consider laying a hand on a woman, but today, there were no rules, no restrictions. "Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" he asked her pleasantly before swinging a rather large fist right at Marie's cute little nose.
It was going to be one of those days. Catching his fist neatly in her hand she twisted, trying to get him to back down without exerting too much force. "Easy sugah, just calm on down. Ah don't wanna hurt you." She pursed her lips, wondering if he even spoke English.
"Arschloch!" he called her in a basso profundo voice. He couldn't withdraw his hand - this girl was as strong as he. Maybe a little stronger. And for some reason, that just pissed him off beyond all measure. His grandfather didn't freeze to death in some Godforsaken Russian steppe so that some little Amerikanishe fraulein could come in and boss _him_ around!
She resisted the urge to scold him for what she could only assume was a profanity of sorts coming from his mouth. "Alright sir, that is enough," she said firmly. Pulling him slightly toward the exit, she pointed in the direction of the door.
Bulwark dug in his heels and _pulled_. She may be strong, but she might have weighed and he was far, far stronger than that. And snapping her into the bar suited his mood like a _glove_.
Marie was caught off guard enough that his pull sent her tumbling though the air and she automatically released his fist in the process. Pushing against the gravity in the room, she righted herself and hovered above the bar, hands on her hips as she glared at Bulwark. There were too many other things pulling at her attention and she needed this kid down and out quick. "Ah'm sorry," she muttered under her breath before diving down, fists aimed at his head with enough power to knock him out for the rest of the evening.
Fortunately for Bulwark, he was smart enough to get his head out of the way and let her pass. Furthermore, he was non-gentlemanly enough to take a shot at Marie's most prominent attributes as she dove at his head.
It wasn't too difficult to twist out of the way of his attack, righting herself and wrapping her arms around Bulwark in a bear hug in the process. Squeezing enough to make breathing difficult, but not impossible, Rogue calmly headbutted him.
It wasn't too difficult to twist out of the way of his attack, righting herself and wrapping her arms around Bulwark in a bear hug in the process. Squeezing enough to make breathing difficult, but not impossible, Rogue calmly headbutted him.
Bulwark grinned and returned the headbutt with interest. He had, interestingly enough, a _very_ hard head. The beer he'd already consumed gave him a thin layer of insulation from the aches and pains of his body, but his need for oxygen was growing somewhat dire. He strained with every ounce of strength in his body, his desperation fuelling his musculature.
Bulwark's effort only served to frustrate Marie and she flipped up and over him, placing him in a choke hold that would speed up his oxygen deprivation.
Bulwark was a wrestler in his spare time - when he was sampling Bavaria's most famous export or chasing buxom German lasses -so slipping out of the hold and even reversing it wasn't too much trouble for him. "Fraulein - spiel mit mir?" he asked her with a sneer.
Luckily for Marie, his hold wasn't tight enough to hurt her enhanced windpipe. "Kinda busy Storm, but Ah'll get this sorted in jiffy," she subvocalized at the team leader's query. Refocusing on her rather uncomfortable, if not life threatening situation, she muttered a variety of colorful and unladylike words. Showing off her rather impressive flexibility, she shot her leg straight up, twisting just enough to bring her heel in line with his nose.
Bulwark just grinned and tightened his hold. Surely he could choke out one little girl before going back to his beer and maybe finding some friendly company for the night? Was that too much to ask?
The satisfying crack as her foot hit Bulwark's nose echoed through her ears. "Ah said back down," she said, her voice rising to be heard above the fray around them. Twisting out of his hold, she added a knee to the groin in case her kick hadn't been enough to take the big guy down.
Bulwark was going to wipe the blood off his face when Rogue's low blow caught him directly on a most tender bit of anatomy. His eyes crossed and he saw Tweeties piloting Stukas orbiting his head, but miraculously he stayed on his feet.
Marie considered herself a patient person, but this was starting to get ridiculous. Blow after blow and he just kept coming back for more, though it looked like her efforts were finally starting to have some effect. "That's it," she said, throwing her arms up in frustration. Picking up a nearby bar stool, she swung it at his head.
As Wanda and Rahne head the pursuit, the kids' luck finally runs out.
The doorway was blocked. The back door of the club had been rusted shut, and was blocked from the outside. Manuel threw his shoulder against it, but it wouldn't budge. Jennie pulled him out of the way and with a small flash of white, the doorway broke open. She stumbled back as the world pulsed red once, twice, three times, and then moved in on her. She gasped, knowing exactly what this was, having finally overdone it. Oh no. This is bad. She tried to back away, but Manuel grabbed her hand and dragged her out, forcing her to run.
Behind them, the door flashed red and broke off it's hinges, narrowly missing the pair.
Manuel's eyes flashed as he sowed chaos in the minds all around them. He wasn't even feigning subtlety or finesse - he merely grabbed and yanked. The more off-balance folks were, the more they could cover their escape. But he had no wind for some reason - his lungs burned as if he'd been running for miles while smoking unfiltered cigarettes, and his blasted palms ached like he'd been crucified.
They'd been on the trail when Wanda felt it. She went from irritated to searing headache and stumbled, her power flickering on. And then slammed down shut. "Jennie," she said, gritting her teeth. A bad luck back lash...she'd had enough practice with the teenager to know what that was.
"Rahne!" she called out. "Keep after them, I'll be right behind but I think I am going to need to play a bit of clean up..."
Jennie was more being dragged than actually running. All around her the world was bright red, her lucksnap following her like a boomerang. Behind her, power cables twisted and snapped, casing a rain of sparks on the pair as they narrowly avoided being electrocuted. Cars swerved to avoid the broken power lines and collided with each other.
"Manny! Manny faster! We have to outrun it!" Jennie yelled, still feeling the chaos pulsing around them. Leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.
Manuel stumbled along, his eyes glowing as red as the chaos Jennifer was weaving. "What, pray tell, are we outrunning again?" he huffed. Why was it so blasted _difficult_ for him to catch his wind? He wasn't _this_ far out of shape! Unconsciously, he rubbed the dead spot in the middle of his palm as he stumbled along.
Suddenly Wanda stumbled, barely catching herself on her hands and knees. "Change of plans, Rahne," she yelled out, knowing the werewolf would be able to hear her over all the noise. "Just go!" Pushing herself upright, but not bothering to stand, Wanda opened her mind, bracing herself against the backlash. It hurt, like salt being rubbed over an open wound but she used the pain to help her focus. After Cthton was ripped from her mind, she lost her back up supply of power.
But she had more than enough of her own and plenty of experience. Not only with hers but with Jennie's. It was a good thing their powers weren't more similar...that would have only resulted in a clash. Now, she could circumvent, work around. Stop.
Rahne, only very slightly shifted by this point, did hear and turned her head -- and tripped over nothing herself. She didn't bother trying to stay upright; she shifted from two legs to four, thanking God briefly for Forge, and took off running with her head down and every sense alert. She raced around the cars, hoping someone could help the people in them, and gathered herself to leap over the power lines. She came down on bits of broken safety glass, skidded, kept going.
Jennie screamed as she and Manuel barely dodged a swerving vehicle. "It's a chaos backlash! I-I pushed too hard! I threw stuff off-balance!" And she knew enough now not to trigger one. Why had she? Why didn't she think about this before? "Keep going! If it catches up with us....We have to keep going!" she yelled as overhead a neon sign's mooring rusted and snapped, crashing to the ground behind them.
Manuel had no idea what a chaos backlash was, but judging by the sheer power of the waves of panic sheeting off of Jennifer, it couldn't be a warm and fuzzy thing. The burning in his lungs was getting worse, not better. "Not sure how much further I can go, Jennifer." he said, voice getting a little raspy.
There was so much to contain...no, she couldn't contain it but she could redirect it. The strings sang and hummed in Wanda's mind, red drowning out any other color to her mind's eye.
A ping here on her radar, a shove was it's reaction. It couldn't fix what Jennie's powers were calling it out to do, but Wanda's powers could reshape it, shove it into something less dangerous.
Shove, push, rend, tear, back, forth, too, fro.
Staggering to her feet, Wanda forced herself to take slow, staggering steps. The battle she was fighting was heavy but she had to keep following or else the center of the back lash would get too far for her to reach.
Rahne was gaining on them. Slowly. Even with Wanda's work, a lot of the disasters that kept narrowly missing Jennie and Manuel left debris in their wake that she had to jump over or swerve around. Still, by and large a wolf will outrun a human, and if she'd been spending more time at a desk lately and less in a forest than she once had, this form was still built for long, swift, obstacle-filled runs. And for some reason, even amid the rest of the chaos people tended to get out of the way of a hundred-odd-pound wolf racing through the streets.
She yelped and jumped hastily off something that scorched her paw, raced onward, jumped a fallen sign. If I lose the trail otherwise, I suppose I can just follow the mess....
Jennie couldn't keep running either, her lungs felt like they were going to burst. Adrenaline and panic made up for her wasted muscles, but she was slowing down as well. And besides.
Why was she running?
Thin fingers slid out of Manuel's grasp. Enough...
She stopped in the middle of the street, Manny a few paces in front of her. She doubled over, clutching her stomach, hearing nothing but the blood pounding in her ears and her own ragged breathing. The world pulsed red again, as her chaos powers zeroed back to its source. The destruction would stop if she just let it hit her.
Nearby, a truck that was left in park while the driver made a delivery brake lines snapped. It began to barrel down the sloped street at a frightening speed, straight at the pale figure hunched over in the middle of the road.
Jennie didn't even have time to scream.
Rahne came over the crest of the hill in time to take it in, all in a flash of horror, the truck and Jennie -- just -- still -- and to hit top speed.
But not to outrun a truck.
Wanda 'saw' a string change a split second before she could see what was going on with her own eyes, and she broke into a dead run. The red lines suddenly deepened to a murderous hue and then vibrated heavily in her mind. She'd been focusing on making sure no one else had gotten caught up that she had turned away, for a split second, to deal with something else.
No, it couldn't...she reached for the strings desperately, knowing she really would not be fast enough.
Manuel saw the truck start to slide, to head right for Jennifer. She didn't seem too inclined to move, and something broke inside of him.
Running with a renewed sense of purpose, he shoulder-tackled her out of the path of the incoming truck. As he moved, his eyes blazed red like the Fires of Hell Itself. "NO!" he screamed just before the truck overtook him, smashing him to the pavement like a child's discarded toy.
He tried to say something - a name, perhaps? - but it never made it past bloody froth at his lips.
~Gemile!~
Jennie tumbled to the ground and rolled. She looked up in time to watch Manuel go up over the cab of the truck, and hit the pavement with a sickening thud. "Manny!" she yelled, trying to get to her feet. Right then her power finally caught up with her, and she was hit with the full force of the lucksnap. It slammed into her like a powerful wave. Her vision went red, then black, and she crumpled to the ground like a rag doll. A small trickle of blood coming out of one nostril.
With Wanda's powers on full, she saw Jennie's strings shimmer around her right before she collapsed. "Rahne!" She didn't even have to tell the younger woman what she needed, Rahne had far more experience treating injuries than she did.
Skidding to a stop in front of Jennie's sprawled body, Wanda knelt next to her. "It's alright, Jennie," she murmured, searching for anymore lucksnap but thankfully not finding any.
Rahne had kept going at full speed for Manuel, leaving Jennie's presumably powers-based collapse to Wanda's expertise. She transformed as she stopped, her knees hitting the street even as her hands went out toward Manuel.
They weren't clean, not after she'd been running on them, but there was no time to worry about that. She didn't dare move his spine until she had someone or something to brace him, and she would have to be careful about that head injury, but she needed to stop at least some of the bleeding.... She heard someone yelling to appelez 112, which was the emergency number, and looked up to shout agreement and that please, if any passersby who could give clean cloths or some heavy fabric to help him --
She ended up with someone's very worn coat rolled up to keep his spine still, and someone's very expensive scarf pressed carefully to the worst of the bleeding.
Kurt had cheated a little, using his power to jump ahead a few feet at a time as he followed the trail of destruction, just to catch up with the fleeing pair faster. He raced over the crest of the hill now, stopping dead in horror at what he saw. "Mein Gott..."
Rogue flew at top speeds, Storm close behind her, following the trail of destruction. What in the sam hill? Shock rushed through her system as she took in Wanda tending to an unconscious Jennie, before her gaze traveled to another crumpled form. Landing at a run, she ground to a halt near Manny, staring down at his bleeding form in horror. He was barely recognizable and despite Rahne's efforts, it was obvious that he wasn't doing well.
Oh, sweet goddess... Touching down, Ororo quickly took in the scene, almost unable to believe the incredible carnage that had seemingly arisen out of nowhere. Both Jennie and Manuel had people by their sides, and she saw at least one person frantically dialing a cell phone with shaking hands. "Stay back!" she exclaimed, gesturing to the nearby people to step away from the worst of the scene. "Give them room, please."
The next few minutes happened as if it were a dream. Rahne calmly trying to stop the worst of Manuel's bleeding, Wanda draping a jacket over Jennie's prone form, Ororo, Marie and Kurt trying to keep the growing crowd of onlookers away from the street, and above it all, the high thin wail of an ambulance siren.
And, too late, the last errant student arrives on-scene.
Marius shoved through a world of smoked glass. Teleportation had seen him back to the club, but once there he'd realized he didn't know where they'd gone. There'd been no plan, no direction, and so Marius had no clue where to go from there. There could be no teleportation, only running, with a half-shift to Between to keep him unseen and make the obstacles in his way less so. False starts, wrong directions, and a sick twisting panic that mounted with every beat of his heart as he cursed a power that was perfect for identification but utterly useless to track -- and then, finally, he found the signs.
Downed power lines, wrecked cars, broken glass. A swath of devastation that he knew, somehow, would lead him to what he wanted to find. No time to think of what they would do when he found them, or of the screaming emptiness of the hotel room because she was gone, of course she was gone, how could he have been stupid enough to think they wouldn't have moved her and -- no. No use thinking about that now. Marius put his head down and ran through street after street of shadows. Just find them.
And then, at last, he did.
Six. He recognized six mutant signatures as he arrived on the scene, glowing bright and distinct through the world like smoked glass that was the half-step from the real world to Between. Marius stumbled to a stop just outside the push and throng of the forming crowd, barely even aware of the resistance their bodies presented. The fact there were four that had no right to be on this side of the ocean almost didn't register, because what did was -- incomprehensible.
There were six signatures, but the two he'd been looking for, the only two that mattered, they were here, but on the ground and . . . not moving, and -- why were they not moving?
Rahne lifted her head, her hands still on Manuel. She had shifted back, just a little, for all the information she could get, and if anyone had noticed that her skin was darkened with a faint russet fuzz they hadn't mentioned it. There was a new smell, a strange one, and her first thought was that someone else was hurt and that they might be in further danger. Chemicals -- sulfur, or was that from Kurt? Burning... that wasn't.... "What's--" She stopped, still trying to get a fix on the smell, eyes widening in horror. "Who's burning, I--"
Marie, attempting to assist police in keeping back the growing crowd so the ambulance could pull up, suddenly found herself in a blitz-attack with no warning and less reason, set upon by a dark sharp-edged thing that appeared from nowhere in silence and a wash of sulphur. Talons sliced through cloth to skid over the flesh beneath, each blind rake dragging memories, images presented to her mind like the flip of pages through a photoalbum. Slash, strobe lights illuminating Manuel's expression of transcendent joy as the club around him pulsed to the music he made. Slash, the red girl's porcelain-perfect features as he writhed, fighting to breathe. Slash, Jennie's eyes huge and dark as he eased her down on the rooftop in Paris. Slash, the golden halo of Amelia's hair as cold metal scraped his throat. Slash, staring out the window and listening to the hushed conversation outside his door while the nurse wound gauze around his blistered palms, sixteen and waiting to die.
Slash, slash, slash, and four words twisted almost into unintelligibility:
"What did you do? What did you do?"
His words weren't processed by Marie as she found herself choking on the smoke, experiencing memory after memory. She'd barely had time to gasp at the inhuman looking creature that had lunged at her before he'd began raking at her skin. Without the warning she usually had before contact, she'd had no time to set up the psychic dams to siphon the memories and they washed over her, one after the other. For a brief moment, she realized who she must be getting the memories from and choked out his name before the memories overwhelmed her sensory system and her knees began to tremble. Her body hardened, ripping through clothing and gloves as she instinctively lashed out, trying to push away the cause of her instability.
Then something happened that had never happened before - the pull switched directions. With a startled gasp, she began reliving the memories herself as they were imparted through the loop. Being set on fire on a beach in San Diego. A picnic on a lazy Mississippi afternoon with her parents. Laughing after a late night movie marathon with Amanda. A shy smile at a boy and then the shared kiss. Looking down at Stanley and realizing she'd killed someone.
Kurt had barely had time to react before Marius launched into Marie, let alone do anything about it. Now he'd had time to stand, though, and move... and barrelled straight into Marius from the left, knocking him away from Marie.
It had all happened so fast, in the blink of an eye, that Ororo barely could tell what was going on. The scene was still shrouded in darkness, only the occasional flash from the nearby ambulance strobe to illuminate what was happening. Marie had transformed, it seemed, and Kurt was grappling with a dark form... Marius?
She immediately experienced a sort of dual-faceted worry - one part for Marie and Kurt, both of whom it seemed were or would be injured by the frenzied young man, and the other part for the growing crowd of bystanders. If Marius managed to escape from Kurt's grasp, who knew what target he would pick next? "Nightcrawler, you must keep him from attacking anyone else!" she subvocalized, slipping between headmistress to team leader in a split second. It was the second time in as many months that she had to instruct one of her team to take whatever measures necessary against one of their own.
Kurt's full-body tackle bore the boy to the pavement, scorched clothing and blue-furred flesh alike pierced by a body sharpening in unconscious mimicry of the girl whose power it held. There was no defense against the psychic invasion. Marius slashed wildly for his physical attacker, but Kurt was already gone; the clawed thing that had been a hand caught only a wisp of smoke, a burst of displaced air a few feet away signifying Kurt's reappearance. Disoriented and enraged, Marius surged to his feet and lunged.
Bleeding from dozens of cuts down his side, which he ignored, Kurt reacted instantly, swinging a foot out to hook Marius' leg out from under him. His orders, after all, had been clear: stop him.
The hook almost caught him. Marius started to go down and teleported, staggering back a few yards away. Far enough to be out of immediate danger, but not too far, because the same instincts that said get away said stop the threat -- and, under all the unthinking rage and programmed responses of his mutation, vicious loyalty to the two crumpled figures in the street.
Marius whirled again and charged for Kurt.
Kurt didn't dodge, didn't teleport... just faced the oncoming attack and ran into it, hitting Marius with his already-injured side and bearing him to the ground, then trying to pin him against the boy's struggles. "Marius! Stay down." He didn't have much hope that words would get through, but it had to be worth a try.
A twist of Marius' neck sliced dreadlocks made spikes from borrowed power across the man's cheek before another teleport saw him clear. Freed now, the boy wrenched himself to his feet, the effort gouging furrows in the pavement as around them the police on scene tried desperately to keep order among the increasingly panicked crowd.
Kurt looked around frantically for a weapon - anything - that he could use to take the boy down before things got even more out of hand. The only thing to catch his eye was a stray brick from who-knew-where, and he stared at it for a second before snatching it up and teleporting to stand behind Marius. Another moment and, muttering a prayer for forgiveness even as he acted, he brought it down on the boy's head.
Marius's body rocked under the impact but absorbed the blow as if it was nothing. The boy whipped around, snarling, one clawed hand driving for Kurt's abdomen.
Kurt braced himself, really not wanting to do what he was about to but seeing no other choice. Still praying under his breath, he brought down the brick down again. And again, and again, until finally, to his relief, Marius fell and stayed down. Kurt dropped beside him, checking his pulse with no concern for his hands.
Rahne's hands still didn't leave Manuel, but she hadn't been able to help stealing looks up at the fight -- for one thing, Marius was not only in frightening condition, injured but apparently not the least weakened, but evidently wasn't rational enough that she could count on not having herself or her patient run over. Or worse. She gulped as Kurt finally felled him, with a brutality she didn't think he'd ever have used if there had been a better option to hand, and Marius's skin changed as he fell. Her eyes were watering with the sulfur fumes and she couldn't be sure of that, but Kurt's hand didn't start bleeding so perhaps she'd been right.
The paramedics started cautiously forward, and she nodded and beckoned to them, not trusting her voice to shout. From the strange way it sounded in her own ears when she answered their questions, she had probably been right.
What happened to them all?
Kurt was cradling the boy carefully now, in stark contrast to his brutality of a few moments ago, and moved away only reluctantly as the paramedics approached. Once they had a head-board on Marius, however, Kurt moved back in to help lift him, against their protests when they saw the blood on his clothing, and silently headed the walk to the ambulance.
All Wanda could think was that she was glad Jennie had been unconscious for this, for most of it anyway. She cast a quick glance over at Manny and the paramedics treating him, talking to Rahne, and looked away again. After covering the younger mutant with her jacket, she'd pulled her into her lap, trying to keep her head off the rough ground.
With no visible injuries, the paramedics would see to her after the others. Until then, she'd watch over her.
Marie had finally regained control of her mind and body, blinking to awareness at the scene that hadn't changed dramatically since she'd fallen to her knees, save for one more crumpled form on the ground. A paramedic was draping a jacket around her shoulders to cover her torn clothing, as another gestured for her to be still despite her attempts to explain that she was fine, just woozy.
The next few minutes seemed to pass in the blur as the paramedics attending to the injured, loading them into the ambulances with utmost care, from the most urgent cases to the least. Of all the mutants at the scene, only Ororo and Wanda and Rahne had escaped serious injury; though they were all battered and bruised from their altercations before they arrived.
It was only once Ororo was assured that everyone including Marie and Kurt would be tended to that she allowed herself to take in the true magnitude of what had happened. She felt her hands start to shake, just a little, and steeled herself. There was plenty more to be done that night before it was over, and she needed to be clear-headed for it. Maybe one day she would understand the why of it all… but for now, she could only concern herself with cleaning up the situation.
The music that had been audible from the street was almost a physical throb as she passed the hatcheck of the latest club. OPM was low-lit and did not have a straightforward layout, spread across two floors and subdivided into multiple areas for the bar, dancefloor and various lounges, but it had the right atmosphere. If the line to enter had been any indication this particular club catered to an international crowd, and appeared equally mutant-friendly if the hatcheck man's conversation with a dapple-skinned girl was anything to go on. Still, it was only one option among many in Monte Carlo, as it was turning out.
There were some who might've considered the pounding music almost soothing, but to Ororo it merely grated against her already tightly-strung nerves. She and the others had been at this for some time already this evening, and though the club scene was just starting to pick up now that true darkness had fallen outside, she had had enough. Nevertheless, she knew she would not be stopping until she or one of the others located Jennie, Manuel, or Marius, and convinced them to come speak with them.
Pressing through the crowd, Ororo allowed her eyes to adjust to the erratic lighting. The man at the door had said there were two levels, and it was best to take this as professionally as possible. She would start at the bar and work her way through the club, though with only one person it was impossible to guarantee she wouldn't just miss them completely, by accident or otherwise. Still, the pure volume of clubs and possible hangouts for the students in Monte Carlo necessitated splitting up. With a grimace she headed off to the bar, trying her best to elude any 'friendly' strangers along the way.
There had been something sticky on the bar. Marius moved to wipe his hand on his slacks, a twitch of muscle pulling the curving teeth of his palm farther inwards and away from the fabric. The drinks were a bit overpriced, but less watered-down than some, and right now they could afford it. He could have done without the jostling, as well as the prospect of navigating three drinks across the dancefloor, but Jennie was, yet again, in an odd mood. Easier to play waiter than to deal with it. With a faint snort of irritation, Marius fidgeted again with the collar of his shirt and waited for their drinks.
There was the bar, ahead of her, crowded with young men and women in various dark-colored outfits. Her eyes passed over each one swiftly until... "Marius?" She had seen the footage from the tapes and it did seem to be him, but she had been looking for long that she almost suspected it was a mirage of some sort.
Moving as quickly as she could towards the bar, she approached the dreadlocked young man, reaching out to lightly touch him on the forearm. "Marius?" she asked again.
Marius had been so intent on studying some incongruous piece of 1920s pop art hanging next to the bar that the touch to his arm came like an electric shock. He whirled, evoking an enraged squawk from a patron close enough to come in contact with his elbow, and only the split-instant of recognition kept him from physical retaliation. If the luminous white hair hadn't confirmed it, the genetic signature would have. Ororo. The headmistress of Xavier's. Here.
"Ms. Munroe?" For a moment Marius literally could not think of anything beyond that simple identifier. Then, with slow, incredulous movements, he turned to look around. "Did I blink an' overshoot on a teleport?"
Removing her hand, Ororo shook her head, quickly assessing Marius's physical state. Despite the discolored skin and odd eyes and hair, he looked healthy. That was strange, but nothing about this situation had ever gone according to plan. "No, you are still in Monte Carlo. As am I. We have been looking for you, after we discovered that Jennie had disappeared." Another quick glance around showed her that the girl was nowhere in sight. "I am glad to see that you are well."
Marius grinned. "Glad to be well. Been a nice change of pace from all the malingerin' in hospital. Had some rough spots, but not so bad, really." Despite the calmness of Ororo's tone there was a hidden edge there, and her unease bolstered Marius' own. His body was tensing automatically. He tried to shove it back, then cocked his head, puzzled as her words registered. "Lookin' for . . ? Jen's right here. Quite, as a matter of fact. There some sort of problem?"
"School has started, Marius, and Jennie is very conspicuously not there... She lied to the school and she lied to her father, so we became worried." Ororo looked at him curiously, as if she couldn't understand how he didn't know this. "But if she is here, that is good. We will be able to bring her back to the school and let her father know she is all right."
Marius scratched his head, forehead creasing. "Term's . . ? Ah, right. America is victim to a cruelly arbitrary school-year. Forgot that." He clung to that bit of reasoning while he tried to work out the rest. Jennie lied? She'd never told him that she'd called the school, but he'd assumed . . .
This was getting too confusing. Marius shook his head. "Well, it's all been some sort of oversight, I'm sure. Young an' toothsome, cuttin' a swath across Europe with your mates an' that. Time does slip away." His tone was light, but the worm of unease was now barbed with the slightest hint of panic. 'We will be able to bring her back to the school . . .'
"Mm, yes, I suppose it does..." Even if Marius had forgotten, there was no way that Jennie had. She had known she was expected at the school and tried to cover her tracks, however badly that had turned out. "It seems you have made a few friends along the way, as well." The statement was deliberately neutral, though she had to repress a shiver at the thought of the still, glass-faced girl they had left at the police station.
"Ah, yeah . . . I am the friendly sort. Mates across three continents now." The statement lilted uncertainly at the end. The bartender was trying to tell him his drinks were ready, but he made no move to claim them. Something was definitely wrong. Something he wasn't getting. With the small amount of Manuel's power he still had in his system the discomfiting trill behind her words was obvious, it crawled up his neck like the grate of a fork across a plate. The unreadable look in the headmistress' brown eyes suddenly felt all too clear.
All around them, the club's patrons shifted and ebbed, impatiently trying to push past the two people chatting at the bar. Ororo stood her ground, unwilling to move away now that she had Marius so close at hand. "We found the girl, Marius," she murmured, "and her nurse. I do not know where you found her, or how she came to be with you, but I hope... I hope that things are not as they seem."
Penny. It all fell into place, and Marius' hands closed around the mouths on his palms almost convulsively. The unease, the determination, the faintest tremor of outrage -- everything he'd been picking up on but couldn't place. They found Penny.
"It's . . ." The start of a sentence formed on his lips, but Marius couldn't think of anywhere to go with it. What could he follow with? 'Not what it looks like'?
It was exactly what it looked like.
Oh, Marius. What have you done. Ororo tried her best not to show the disappointment and revulsion she felt, but it was a losing battle. "Marius," she said, ignoring the impatient bar patrons trying to get the bartender's attention between them. "Please. I know you have been through many difficulties, but this is not the way to deal with them. Your friends at the school are concerned for you, the teachers as well... I know your parents are too. If you would come with us, I know you would set their minds at ease, and we can deal with any... unpleasantness that has happened."
'Your parents.' Against the mounting churn of shame and guilt those two words took him like acid across the face.
Heedless of the press of bodies around them, the boy took one step backwards and disappeared.
Immediately thumbing on her comm, Ororo spoke quick directions to the others, informing them of her discovery and the location of the club. Already she was on the move, heading for the stairs in the hopes of finding Jennie or Manuel still in the building. The deep pounding of the bass punctuated her steps and her thoughts - We were so close. So close.
The kids may be found, but nothing about this situation is clean.
Manuel sat in one of the casino's overstuffed chairs, absently swirling his Courvoisier in its goblet back and forth. "It is _good_ to be able to enjoy some of the finer things, don't you ..." he started to say to Jennifer, then doubled over in an explosive coughing fit, nearly spilling his drink onto the plush carpets. "Gah! It is good to be able to enjoy the finer things in life, don't you agree?" he said once his chest had stopped spasming. It still burned when he breathed too deeply, but he had no time for trifles right now. They had bigger things to worry about.
Jennie hadn't wanted to come out at all. Both boys had practically dragged her out of her self-imposed isolation. She knew that the evening would only go downhill. And sometimes she hated being right.
"Jesus Manny, don't inhale the stuff, what in the- AH!" Jennie turned and jumped as Marius appeared suddenly before them.
"Goddammit,, Marius."
Manuel normally could feel Marius coming from a mile or so off, but for some reason he didn't catch him this time. He spasmed almost as badly as he had during the coughing fit, but as then he managed to not spill his drink. "Marius! What a pleasant surprise. Come to enjoy a little relaxation?" he asked politely while trying to steady his hands.
"We have to go," Marius said, completely ignoring the stares and the gags at the sulfur-stench of his teleportation. There was an entire dancefloor of people between them and the bar, but that was nowhere near far enough. "I'll fetch Penny an' you get out an' we'll meet at the trainstation. Come on."
"Wait, wait what?" Jennie said, feeling increasingly panicked.
"We're goin'!" Marius snapped, voice mounting against the throb of the music. "Look, we just -- we have to go all right? I'll explain later, just go!" There was no time for this, there was no time at all. Need triggered instinct, instinct triggered response. Unnoticed and unknowing, barbs strung and buried for nearly two months pulled taut.
Manuel rocked with the intensity of the panic. Why hadn't he noticed it before? Didn't matter, really. He could see it now like a wave of yellowish-red swamping everything in sight.
They had to leave.
Right now.
Manuel unleashed his power and let the dancefloor go mad. It would cover their escape and slow down the Enemy who was out there.
Somewhere.
The hot, sick ball of panic was back. Jennie clutched at her stomach and shivered. But a small part of her wanted to demand why they were running again. That they couldn't keep running. That she wanted to go home, dammit.
She never got the chance to speak up, however, because Manny grabbed her wrist and jerked her to her feet.
Marius was already moving as they began to run, slipping Between in a whirl of sulfur and darkness. He didn't want to leave them, but he had no choice. All he could do was get Penny. Penny could survive Between. They would meet back up at the trainstation, and then they would -- Marius didn't know.
Anything as long as it was away from here.
Thanks to Manuel's influence, half the staff find an entire club standing between them and their wayward students. The skirmishes are brief, but cost precious time.
The atmosphere in the dance club was energized but relatively calm one minute, and chaotic the next. Ororo didn't know any other way to describe it as the crowd collectively seemed to shift over the edge, the churning, writhing bodies suddenly jostling her, then worse. A fist flew at her face and she dodged just in time, shocked that violence had broken out so abruptly. It wasn't just a fluke, though, as another knot of bodies began to pummel each other, and several more patrons converged on her, anger and fear in their eyes.
"Please!" she cried, holding up her hands in a futile attempt to calm them down. "I am not here to harm any of you." In truth, she didn't know why they were panicking, only that the danger was suddenly very real, and very imminent.
"Is that a fact?" said one of the encroaching patrons. Hairless purple skin alternated dusky and overexposed under the throb of the clublights, rabid paranoia gleaming in his eyes. "And your word is solid, no?"
The swing at Ororo's face trailed mist -- but not from the machine generating it for the dance-floor. This vapor glowed lavender under pulsing spotlights. The punch was only distraction. Tendrils of mist reached for her as the fist that flew past her ear dissolved, swirling forward like a living thing to seek out nose and mouth.
Ororo backed away as quickly as she could, though a moment later she regretted that decision. There were patches of space on the floor, true, but there were also wildly flashing lights and the artificial fog that wafted over the entire panicked scene. The lights she could handle - Danger Room scenarios with Alison had more than inured her to those - but the fog mixed with the mistlike coils from the angry mutant advancing on her.
People not quick enough to follow Ororo's retreat started hacking, some falling to their knees. The rest of the mutant's frame diffused into smoke that mingled and merged with the fog machine's, his crazed smile disappearing last like the grin of the Cheshire cat. The sentient mist billowed across the dancefloor to pursue her, and the air around thrummed with sounds that weren't quite words:
"Leaving already?"
"Sir, I do not want to hurt you!" Ororo asserted again, her eyes already clouding over as she summoned up a wind around her. It was enough to keep the mutant from coming too close, though more of the other clubgoers seemed to be succumbing to the mist.
"I'm touched. Fortunately, I have nothing to hurt!" The mist dragged stubbornly against the wind to curl across scuffed floorboards. The bystanders nearest the source thrashed crazily, half a dozen people gagging for breath. A few feet away from Ororo one of them began to dryheave.
If it had just been her, Ororo would have tried to reason with the man. If it had just been her, and there were not more pressing issues at hand, she would have been more patient. As it was, however, other people were suffering and she still had to find Marius, Jennie and Manuel. "I have tried to dissuade you," she said, her hair dancing around her as the winds gathered. "I have tried to be reasonable. But since you are threatening innocents, I am afraid you must stop, now." At that final word she spread her arms, an enormous gust of wind sweeping through the club to clear the air and send the purple mist spinning away, over the heads of the other patrons and through the room.
The mist dispersed there was a noise that might have been a scream, or the closest approximation that could be given with the use of nothing but the vibration of air molecules. Whatever it was, the pump of bass almost swallowed it. As the air settled a fine cloud of mist rose to hang near the lights and wires like exhaled smoke. The vapor rippled, trying to cohere, but slowly. Very slowly. It didn't look like her attacker would be any trouble for quite some time. The club was still in an uproar, but the dispersal seemed to be helping the mutant's victims.
Moving, she had to keep moving... Eyes clearing, Ororo took off once again towards the stairs. "Kurt, Marie, status," she said into the comm as she ran. "Marius is no longer in the club; I fear the others have left as well. We need to follow them, now."
It was very difficult to find three young mutants, Kurt was rapidly drawing the conclusion, when you were in a club full of young mutants. Especially when he didn't know the interior of the building well enough to teleport around, and couldn't be sure no one would be in his chosen spot if he did.
The was no warning, no smells, no sounds. Kurt was suddenly knocked off balance by a very tall thin man. The man said nothing as he lunged for Kurt again, just feeling the sudden overwhelming need to hit someone, anyone.
Kurt staggered, but recovered quickly to teleport out of the way of the lunge and behind the man, aiming only to get out of his way and continue the search. Whatever was going on, after all, there was an empath involved. It was an easy step from there to the reason this man was attacking him.
The man surprised Kurt by teleporting himself behind him, and then attempted to pull the shorter man's legs out from under him.
That... would make things more difficult, although not insurmountable. He had a suspicion the other man wasn't really a fighter, after all, sudden aggressive urges or not. So, he turned and aimed a careful punch at his jaw.
Soundlessly, the man teleported, and re-appeared behind Kurt again, cuffing him on the side of the head.
When in doubt, fall back on the tried and tested. Kurt grabbed the man's arm and launched into a rapid series of teleports, none taking him more than an inch or two from where he'd started, owing to the crowdedness of the club.
Disoriented, the other man teleported out of Kurt's grasp. His teleport sent him reeling, and he had to teleport again to avoid colliding with another patron. He appeared at Kurt's side, somewhere in the melee his shirt had torn open, revealing a large mouth on his chest.
Kurt stepped back, eyeing him warily and ready to ward off another attack. "Will you stop?"
The instincts that had driven the man earlier disappeared like smoke. Now suddenly very aware that he was in a bad situation, the man merely shook his head and smiled.
"I'm gone."
And with that, he disappeared.
Kurt took a breath, relieved, then turned to continue his search.
Marie had barely entered the club when panic seemed to break out amongst the patrons. The fights didn't appear to have any rhyme or reason, just chaos spreading through the crowd. Dodging out of the way as one girl tried to jump her, she found herself struggling to separate two guys in fist fight without hurting either of them. "Stop! What are y'all doing? Everyone just calm down!" she cried out, even though no one seemed to be reacting to her words.
Bulwark was officially pissed-off. Here he was sitting in a club looking to enjoy a couple of beers before heading back to school and now all Hells had broken loose. Worse yet, the Italian girl he was dangling on his knee had leaped to her feet and run into the chaos, screeching something in her mother tongue.
Standing up himself, he cracked his knuckles, slammed down the rest of his beer (Some weak-ass brew from Spain, of all places. He missed a good German or Dutch beer) and got up to look to express his displeasure.
No sooner would Rogue break up one fight, then another just as big or larger would break out next to her. What in tarnation is goin' on here? It just didn't make sense. People were swinging wildly with no purpose or skill. Dodging a blow meant for her belly, she flew up above the crowd for a moment, then landed in front of a large man who had just risen to his feet. She eyed him cautiously for signs of the wild eyed panic that seemed to be flowing through the crowd and held up her hands appeasingly. "Easy sir, Ah'm just here to help."
Bulwark wanted to fight. He _needed_ to fight. And here this American girl was offering him one. Normally, he'd never consider laying a hand on a woman, but today, there were no rules, no restrictions. "Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" he asked her pleasantly before swinging a rather large fist right at Marie's cute little nose.
It was going to be one of those days. Catching his fist neatly in her hand she twisted, trying to get him to back down without exerting too much force. "Easy sugah, just calm on down. Ah don't wanna hurt you." She pursed her lips, wondering if he even spoke English.
"Arschloch!" he called her in a basso profundo voice. He couldn't withdraw his hand - this girl was as strong as he. Maybe a little stronger. And for some reason, that just pissed him off beyond all measure. His grandfather didn't freeze to death in some Godforsaken Russian steppe so that some little Amerikanishe fraulein could come in and boss _him_ around!
She resisted the urge to scold him for what she could only assume was a profanity of sorts coming from his mouth. "Alright sir, that is enough," she said firmly. Pulling him slightly toward the exit, she pointed in the direction of the door.
Bulwark dug in his heels and _pulled_. She may be strong, but she might have weighed
Marie was caught off guard enough that his pull sent her tumbling though the air and she automatically released his fist in the process. Pushing against the gravity in the room, she righted herself and hovered above the bar, hands on her hips as she glared at Bulwark. There were too many other things pulling at her attention and she needed this kid down and out quick. "Ah'm sorry," she muttered under her breath before diving down, fists aimed at his head with enough power to knock him out for the rest of the evening.
Fortunately for Bulwark, he was smart enough to get his head out of the way and let her pass. Furthermore, he was non-gentlemanly enough to take a shot at Marie's most prominent attributes as she dove at his head.
It wasn't too difficult to twist out of the way of his attack, righting herself and wrapping her arms around Bulwark in a bear hug in the process. Squeezing enough to make breathing difficult, but not impossible, Rogue calmly headbutted him.
It wasn't too difficult to twist out of the way of his attack, righting herself and wrapping her arms around Bulwark in a bear hug in the process. Squeezing enough to make breathing difficult, but not impossible, Rogue calmly headbutted him.
Bulwark grinned and returned the headbutt with interest. He had, interestingly enough, a _very_ hard head. The beer he'd already consumed gave him a thin layer of insulation from the aches and pains of his body, but his need for oxygen was growing somewhat dire. He strained with every ounce of strength in his body, his desperation fuelling his musculature.
Bulwark's effort only served to frustrate Marie and she flipped up and over him, placing him in a choke hold that would speed up his oxygen deprivation.
Bulwark was a wrestler in his spare time - when he was sampling Bavaria's most famous export or chasing buxom German lasses -so slipping out of the hold and even reversing it wasn't too much trouble for him. "Fraulein - spiel mit mir?" he asked her with a sneer.
Luckily for Marie, his hold wasn't tight enough to hurt her enhanced windpipe. "Kinda busy Storm, but Ah'll get this sorted in jiffy," she subvocalized at the team leader's query. Refocusing on her rather uncomfortable, if not life threatening situation, she muttered a variety of colorful and unladylike words. Showing off her rather impressive flexibility, she shot her leg straight up, twisting just enough to bring her heel in line with his nose.
Bulwark just grinned and tightened his hold. Surely he could choke out one little girl before going back to his beer and maybe finding some friendly company for the night? Was that too much to ask?
The satisfying crack as her foot hit Bulwark's nose echoed through her ears. "Ah said back down," she said, her voice rising to be heard above the fray around them. Twisting out of his hold, she added a knee to the groin in case her kick hadn't been enough to take the big guy down.
Bulwark was going to wipe the blood off his face when Rogue's low blow caught him directly on a most tender bit of anatomy. His eyes crossed and he saw Tweeties piloting Stukas orbiting his head, but miraculously he stayed on his feet.
Marie considered herself a patient person, but this was starting to get ridiculous. Blow after blow and he just kept coming back for more, though it looked like her efforts were finally starting to have some effect. "That's it," she said, throwing her arms up in frustration. Picking up a nearby bar stool, she swung it at his head.
As Wanda and Rahne head the pursuit, the kids' luck finally runs out.
The doorway was blocked. The back door of the club had been rusted shut, and was blocked from the outside. Manuel threw his shoulder against it, but it wouldn't budge. Jennie pulled him out of the way and with a small flash of white, the doorway broke open. She stumbled back as the world pulsed red once, twice, three times, and then moved in on her. She gasped, knowing exactly what this was, having finally overdone it. Oh no. This is bad. She tried to back away, but Manuel grabbed her hand and dragged her out, forcing her to run.
Behind them, the door flashed red and broke off it's hinges, narrowly missing the pair.
Manuel's eyes flashed as he sowed chaos in the minds all around them. He wasn't even feigning subtlety or finesse - he merely grabbed and yanked. The more off-balance folks were, the more they could cover their escape. But he had no wind for some reason - his lungs burned as if he'd been running for miles while smoking unfiltered cigarettes, and his blasted palms ached like he'd been crucified.
They'd been on the trail when Wanda felt it. She went from irritated to searing headache and stumbled, her power flickering on. And then slammed down shut. "Jennie," she said, gritting her teeth. A bad luck back lash...she'd had enough practice with the teenager to know what that was.
"Rahne!" she called out. "Keep after them, I'll be right behind but I think I am going to need to play a bit of clean up..."
Jennie was more being dragged than actually running. All around her the world was bright red, her lucksnap following her like a boomerang. Behind her, power cables twisted and snapped, casing a rain of sparks on the pair as they narrowly avoided being electrocuted. Cars swerved to avoid the broken power lines and collided with each other.
"Manny! Manny faster! We have to outrun it!" Jennie yelled, still feeling the chaos pulsing around them. Leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.
Manuel stumbled along, his eyes glowing as red as the chaos Jennifer was weaving. "What, pray tell, are we outrunning again?" he huffed. Why was it so blasted _difficult_ for him to catch his wind? He wasn't _this_ far out of shape! Unconsciously, he rubbed the dead spot in the middle of his palm as he stumbled along.
Suddenly Wanda stumbled, barely catching herself on her hands and knees. "Change of plans, Rahne," she yelled out, knowing the werewolf would be able to hear her over all the noise. "Just go!" Pushing herself upright, but not bothering to stand, Wanda opened her mind, bracing herself against the backlash. It hurt, like salt being rubbed over an open wound but she used the pain to help her focus. After Cthton was ripped from her mind, she lost her back up supply of power.
But she had more than enough of her own and plenty of experience. Not only with hers but with Jennie's. It was a good thing their powers weren't more similar...that would have only resulted in a clash. Now, she could circumvent, work around. Stop.
Rahne, only very slightly shifted by this point, did hear and turned her head -- and tripped over nothing herself. She didn't bother trying to stay upright; she shifted from two legs to four, thanking God briefly for Forge, and took off running with her head down and every sense alert. She raced around the cars, hoping someone could help the people in them, and gathered herself to leap over the power lines. She came down on bits of broken safety glass, skidded, kept going.
Jennie screamed as she and Manuel barely dodged a swerving vehicle. "It's a chaos backlash! I-I pushed too hard! I threw stuff off-balance!" And she knew enough now not to trigger one. Why had she? Why didn't she think about this before? "Keep going! If it catches up with us....We have to keep going!" she yelled as overhead a neon sign's mooring rusted and snapped, crashing to the ground behind them.
Manuel had no idea what a chaos backlash was, but judging by the sheer power of the waves of panic sheeting off of Jennifer, it couldn't be a warm and fuzzy thing. The burning in his lungs was getting worse, not better. "Not sure how much further I can go, Jennifer." he said, voice getting a little raspy.
There was so much to contain...no, she couldn't contain it but she could redirect it. The strings sang and hummed in Wanda's mind, red drowning out any other color to her mind's eye.
A ping here on her radar, a shove was it's reaction. It couldn't fix what Jennie's powers were calling it out to do, but Wanda's powers could reshape it, shove it into something less dangerous.
Shove, push, rend, tear, back, forth, too, fro.
Staggering to her feet, Wanda forced herself to take slow, staggering steps. The battle she was fighting was heavy but she had to keep following or else the center of the back lash would get too far for her to reach.
Rahne was gaining on them. Slowly. Even with Wanda's work, a lot of the disasters that kept narrowly missing Jennie and Manuel left debris in their wake that she had to jump over or swerve around. Still, by and large a wolf will outrun a human, and if she'd been spending more time at a desk lately and less in a forest than she once had, this form was still built for long, swift, obstacle-filled runs. And for some reason, even amid the rest of the chaos people tended to get out of the way of a hundred-odd-pound wolf racing through the streets.
She yelped and jumped hastily off something that scorched her paw, raced onward, jumped a fallen sign. If I lose the trail otherwise, I suppose I can just follow the mess....
Jennie couldn't keep running either, her lungs felt like they were going to burst. Adrenaline and panic made up for her wasted muscles, but she was slowing down as well. And besides.
Why was she running?
Thin fingers slid out of Manuel's grasp. Enough...
She stopped in the middle of the street, Manny a few paces in front of her. She doubled over, clutching her stomach, hearing nothing but the blood pounding in her ears and her own ragged breathing. The world pulsed red again, as her chaos powers zeroed back to its source. The destruction would stop if she just let it hit her.
Nearby, a truck that was left in park while the driver made a delivery brake lines snapped. It began to barrel down the sloped street at a frightening speed, straight at the pale figure hunched over in the middle of the road.
Jennie didn't even have time to scream.
Rahne came over the crest of the hill in time to take it in, all in a flash of horror, the truck and Jennie -- just -- still -- and to hit top speed.
But not to outrun a truck.
Wanda 'saw' a string change a split second before she could see what was going on with her own eyes, and she broke into a dead run. The red lines suddenly deepened to a murderous hue and then vibrated heavily in her mind. She'd been focusing on making sure no one else had gotten caught up that she had turned away, for a split second, to deal with something else.
No, it couldn't...she reached for the strings desperately, knowing she really would not be fast enough.
Manuel saw the truck start to slide, to head right for Jennifer. She didn't seem too inclined to move, and something broke inside of him.
Running with a renewed sense of purpose, he shoulder-tackled her out of the path of the incoming truck. As he moved, his eyes blazed red like the Fires of Hell Itself. "NO!" he screamed just before the truck overtook him, smashing him to the pavement like a child's discarded toy.
He tried to say something - a name, perhaps? - but it never made it past bloody froth at his lips.
~Gemile!~
Jennie tumbled to the ground and rolled. She looked up in time to watch Manuel go up over the cab of the truck, and hit the pavement with a sickening thud. "Manny!" she yelled, trying to get to her feet. Right then her power finally caught up with her, and she was hit with the full force of the lucksnap. It slammed into her like a powerful wave. Her vision went red, then black, and she crumpled to the ground like a rag doll. A small trickle of blood coming out of one nostril.
With Wanda's powers on full, she saw Jennie's strings shimmer around her right before she collapsed. "Rahne!" She didn't even have to tell the younger woman what she needed, Rahne had far more experience treating injuries than she did.
Skidding to a stop in front of Jennie's sprawled body, Wanda knelt next to her. "It's alright, Jennie," she murmured, searching for anymore lucksnap but thankfully not finding any.
Rahne had kept going at full speed for Manuel, leaving Jennie's presumably powers-based collapse to Wanda's expertise. She transformed as she stopped, her knees hitting the street even as her hands went out toward Manuel.
They weren't clean, not after she'd been running on them, but there was no time to worry about that. She didn't dare move his spine until she had someone or something to brace him, and she would have to be careful about that head injury, but she needed to stop at least some of the bleeding.... She heard someone yelling to appelez 112, which was the emergency number, and looked up to shout agreement and that please, if any passersby who could give clean cloths or some heavy fabric to help him --
She ended up with someone's very worn coat rolled up to keep his spine still, and someone's very expensive scarf pressed carefully to the worst of the bleeding.
Kurt had cheated a little, using his power to jump ahead a few feet at a time as he followed the trail of destruction, just to catch up with the fleeing pair faster. He raced over the crest of the hill now, stopping dead in horror at what he saw. "Mein Gott..."
Rogue flew at top speeds, Storm close behind her, following the trail of destruction. What in the sam hill? Shock rushed through her system as she took in Wanda tending to an unconscious Jennie, before her gaze traveled to another crumpled form. Landing at a run, she ground to a halt near Manny, staring down at his bleeding form in horror. He was barely recognizable and despite Rahne's efforts, it was obvious that he wasn't doing well.
Oh, sweet goddess... Touching down, Ororo quickly took in the scene, almost unable to believe the incredible carnage that had seemingly arisen out of nowhere. Both Jennie and Manuel had people by their sides, and she saw at least one person frantically dialing a cell phone with shaking hands. "Stay back!" she exclaimed, gesturing to the nearby people to step away from the worst of the scene. "Give them room, please."
The next few minutes happened as if it were a dream. Rahne calmly trying to stop the worst of Manuel's bleeding, Wanda draping a jacket over Jennie's prone form, Ororo, Marie and Kurt trying to keep the growing crowd of onlookers away from the street, and above it all, the high thin wail of an ambulance siren.
And, too late, the last errant student arrives on-scene.
Marius shoved through a world of smoked glass. Teleportation had seen him back to the club, but once there he'd realized he didn't know where they'd gone. There'd been no plan, no direction, and so Marius had no clue where to go from there. There could be no teleportation, only running, with a half-shift to Between to keep him unseen and make the obstacles in his way less so. False starts, wrong directions, and a sick twisting panic that mounted with every beat of his heart as he cursed a power that was perfect for identification but utterly useless to track -- and then, finally, he found the signs.
Downed power lines, wrecked cars, broken glass. A swath of devastation that he knew, somehow, would lead him to what he wanted to find. No time to think of what they would do when he found them, or of the screaming emptiness of the hotel room because she was gone, of course she was gone, how could he have been stupid enough to think they wouldn't have moved her and -- no. No use thinking about that now. Marius put his head down and ran through street after street of shadows. Just find them.
And then, at last, he did.
Six. He recognized six mutant signatures as he arrived on the scene, glowing bright and distinct through the world like smoked glass that was the half-step from the real world to Between. Marius stumbled to a stop just outside the push and throng of the forming crowd, barely even aware of the resistance their bodies presented. The fact there were four that had no right to be on this side of the ocean almost didn't register, because what did was -- incomprehensible.
There were six signatures, but the two he'd been looking for, the only two that mattered, they were here, but on the ground and . . . not moving, and -- why were they not moving?
Rahne lifted her head, her hands still on Manuel. She had shifted back, just a little, for all the information she could get, and if anyone had noticed that her skin was darkened with a faint russet fuzz they hadn't mentioned it. There was a new smell, a strange one, and her first thought was that someone else was hurt and that they might be in further danger. Chemicals -- sulfur, or was that from Kurt? Burning... that wasn't.... "What's--" She stopped, still trying to get a fix on the smell, eyes widening in horror. "Who's burning, I--"
Marie, attempting to assist police in keeping back the growing crowd so the ambulance could pull up, suddenly found herself in a blitz-attack with no warning and less reason, set upon by a dark sharp-edged thing that appeared from nowhere in silence and a wash of sulphur. Talons sliced through cloth to skid over the flesh beneath, each blind rake dragging memories, images presented to her mind like the flip of pages through a photoalbum. Slash, strobe lights illuminating Manuel's expression of transcendent joy as the club around him pulsed to the music he made. Slash, the red girl's porcelain-perfect features as he writhed, fighting to breathe. Slash, Jennie's eyes huge and dark as he eased her down on the rooftop in Paris. Slash, the golden halo of Amelia's hair as cold metal scraped his throat. Slash, staring out the window and listening to the hushed conversation outside his door while the nurse wound gauze around his blistered palms, sixteen and waiting to die.
Slash, slash, slash, and four words twisted almost into unintelligibility:
"What did you do? What did you do?"
His words weren't processed by Marie as she found herself choking on the smoke, experiencing memory after memory. She'd barely had time to gasp at the inhuman looking creature that had lunged at her before he'd began raking at her skin. Without the warning she usually had before contact, she'd had no time to set up the psychic dams to siphon the memories and they washed over her, one after the other. For a brief moment, she realized who she must be getting the memories from and choked out his name before the memories overwhelmed her sensory system and her knees began to tremble. Her body hardened, ripping through clothing and gloves as she instinctively lashed out, trying to push away the cause of her instability.
Then something happened that had never happened before - the pull switched directions. With a startled gasp, she began reliving the memories herself as they were imparted through the loop. Being set on fire on a beach in San Diego. A picnic on a lazy Mississippi afternoon with her parents. Laughing after a late night movie marathon with Amanda. A shy smile at a boy and then the shared kiss. Looking down at Stanley and realizing she'd killed someone.
Kurt had barely had time to react before Marius launched into Marie, let alone do anything about it. Now he'd had time to stand, though, and move... and barrelled straight into Marius from the left, knocking him away from Marie.
It had all happened so fast, in the blink of an eye, that Ororo barely could tell what was going on. The scene was still shrouded in darkness, only the occasional flash from the nearby ambulance strobe to illuminate what was happening. Marie had transformed, it seemed, and Kurt was grappling with a dark form... Marius?
She immediately experienced a sort of dual-faceted worry - one part for Marie and Kurt, both of whom it seemed were or would be injured by the frenzied young man, and the other part for the growing crowd of bystanders. If Marius managed to escape from Kurt's grasp, who knew what target he would pick next? "Nightcrawler, you must keep him from attacking anyone else!" she subvocalized, slipping between headmistress to team leader in a split second. It was the second time in as many months that she had to instruct one of her team to take whatever measures necessary against one of their own.
Kurt's full-body tackle bore the boy to the pavement, scorched clothing and blue-furred flesh alike pierced by a body sharpening in unconscious mimicry of the girl whose power it held. There was no defense against the psychic invasion. Marius slashed wildly for his physical attacker, but Kurt was already gone; the clawed thing that had been a hand caught only a wisp of smoke, a burst of displaced air a few feet away signifying Kurt's reappearance. Disoriented and enraged, Marius surged to his feet and lunged.
Bleeding from dozens of cuts down his side, which he ignored, Kurt reacted instantly, swinging a foot out to hook Marius' leg out from under him. His orders, after all, had been clear: stop him.
The hook almost caught him. Marius started to go down and teleported, staggering back a few yards away. Far enough to be out of immediate danger, but not too far, because the same instincts that said get away said stop the threat -- and, under all the unthinking rage and programmed responses of his mutation, vicious loyalty to the two crumpled figures in the street.
Marius whirled again and charged for Kurt.
Kurt didn't dodge, didn't teleport... just faced the oncoming attack and ran into it, hitting Marius with his already-injured side and bearing him to the ground, then trying to pin him against the boy's struggles. "Marius! Stay down." He didn't have much hope that words would get through, but it had to be worth a try.
A twist of Marius' neck sliced dreadlocks made spikes from borrowed power across the man's cheek before another teleport saw him clear. Freed now, the boy wrenched himself to his feet, the effort gouging furrows in the pavement as around them the police on scene tried desperately to keep order among the increasingly panicked crowd.
Kurt looked around frantically for a weapon - anything - that he could use to take the boy down before things got even more out of hand. The only thing to catch his eye was a stray brick from who-knew-where, and he stared at it for a second before snatching it up and teleporting to stand behind Marius. Another moment and, muttering a prayer for forgiveness even as he acted, he brought it down on the boy's head.
Marius's body rocked under the impact but absorbed the blow as if it was nothing. The boy whipped around, snarling, one clawed hand driving for Kurt's abdomen.
Kurt braced himself, really not wanting to do what he was about to but seeing no other choice. Still praying under his breath, he brought down the brick down again. And again, and again, until finally, to his relief, Marius fell and stayed down. Kurt dropped beside him, checking his pulse with no concern for his hands.
Rahne's hands still didn't leave Manuel, but she hadn't been able to help stealing looks up at the fight -- for one thing, Marius was not only in frightening condition, injured but apparently not the least weakened, but evidently wasn't rational enough that she could count on not having herself or her patient run over. Or worse. She gulped as Kurt finally felled him, with a brutality she didn't think he'd ever have used if there had been a better option to hand, and Marius's skin changed as he fell. Her eyes were watering with the sulfur fumes and she couldn't be sure of that, but Kurt's hand didn't start bleeding so perhaps she'd been right.
The paramedics started cautiously forward, and she nodded and beckoned to them, not trusting her voice to shout. From the strange way it sounded in her own ears when she answered their questions, she had probably been right.
What happened to them all?
Kurt was cradling the boy carefully now, in stark contrast to his brutality of a few moments ago, and moved away only reluctantly as the paramedics approached. Once they had a head-board on Marius, however, Kurt moved back in to help lift him, against their protests when they saw the blood on his clothing, and silently headed the walk to the ambulance.
All Wanda could think was that she was glad Jennie had been unconscious for this, for most of it anyway. She cast a quick glance over at Manny and the paramedics treating him, talking to Rahne, and looked away again. After covering the younger mutant with her jacket, she'd pulled her into her lap, trying to keep her head off the rough ground.
With no visible injuries, the paramedics would see to her after the others. Until then, she'd watch over her.
Marie had finally regained control of her mind and body, blinking to awareness at the scene that hadn't changed dramatically since she'd fallen to her knees, save for one more crumpled form on the ground. A paramedic was draping a jacket around her shoulders to cover her torn clothing, as another gestured for her to be still despite her attempts to explain that she was fine, just woozy.
The next few minutes seemed to pass in the blur as the paramedics attending to the injured, loading them into the ambulances with utmost care, from the most urgent cases to the least. Of all the mutants at the scene, only Ororo and Wanda and Rahne had escaped serious injury; though they were all battered and bruised from their altercations before they arrived.
It was only once Ororo was assured that everyone including Marie and Kurt would be tended to that she allowed herself to take in the true magnitude of what had happened. She felt her hands start to shake, just a little, and steeled herself. There was plenty more to be done that night before it was over, and she needed to be clear-headed for it. Maybe one day she would understand the why of it all… but for now, she could only concern herself with cleaning up the situation.
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