Mark & Amanda, Tuesday night
Aug. 14th, 2007 10:15 pmWhoops, meant to post this last night. Mark and Amanda practice their respective abilities to bash each other's heads in. And they surprise each other by just how good at it they are.
"Smells great, don't it?" Mark carefully pushed aside a fallen wooden panel that barred the entrance to a burned out warehouse settled along Manhattan's west side. The same one where only one year ago, he'd found himself suddenly entangled in a new world of mutant superspies and political intrigue and threats of Iraqi prison rape. Ah, memories. "We should've brought some Lysol or Febreeze. S'like just left this place here after they put out the fire and then forgot about it."
Amanda's nose wrinkled at the musty, burnt smell as she ducked through the half-blocked doorway and entered the burned-out shell. "At least it means we're not likely to have anyone walking in on us," she observed. Her boots crunched on shards of broken glass as she turned to watch Mark follow her in. "We sure the floor's sound? I'd hate to end up dropped in a basement or something unexpected."
Mark's stomps echoed through the dark, empty building. "Think so. I wouldn't go flinging fireballs around the rafters, though. Not unless you really want to try out your shield thingie under duress." He paused. "Don't tell Remy I even thought about that, because he'd so make you or me do it."
"...Yeah, that'd be a bit more of a workout than I'm looking for. That tunnel in Syria was bad enough." Amanda glanced up appraisingly at the rafters. "You know, I used to be able to do Fire, but I haven't been able to manage it since the whole reboot thing. Might be something to work on, along with the rest." Pulling her hands out of her front pockets, she laced her fingers together and cracked the knuckles with a stretch. "So, we're looking at tag? I don't have anything I can really hit you with powers-wise unless I throw George at you, but we could always test your aim and my shield?"
The bright light of the iPod's screen illuminated Mark's face, casting a soft white glow that made the small studs in his ears shine like small stars. He grinned at his inner poet. "I actually wanna test my Exosquad thing. I haven't been able to keep it up for too long, so I can try to maintain that while beating against your shield."
The Brit's expression turned cunning, as she took in the amount of debris lying around. She could figure out plenty of things to hammer his exo-thing with if she needed to change things up a bit. "Works for me, 'specially since I missed seeing the debut." Clapping her hands together smartly, she called up the shielding spell, its like the red-white-and-blue of police squad car lights. "And we don't have to worry about putting a hole in the wall of the brownstone, so let's see what you've got, Boy Dazzler."
"Oh my God. I'm so going to kill you." White light wrapped around Mark when he pressed the play button and put his iPod in his pocket. He could clearly hear the orchestral renditions of rock music from the headphones he wore around his neck, sculpting the light and energy into a vaguely human-shaped exoskeleton. He took a deep breath as it solidified, forcing himself to clear his mind so he could focus on this manifestation. Satisfied that it wouldn't collapse too easily, he raised one giant fist and slammed a punch against Amanda's shield.
Sparks flew as light-shield met magic, and Amanda braced her feet slightly to avoid being pushed back. Using the trick she'd been doing with Wanda before Illyana's abrupt appearance and disappearance, she pushed out with both hands, shoving the bubble of light around her forward. Couldn't let Mark have all the fun, after all.
The exoskeleton staggered back, and Mark pushed himself forward to keep it from toppling over backwards. It took a few seconds for him to regain his footing, but when he did, he didn't hesitate the second attack, this time aiming half a dozen wild punches at her like some demented troll.
A small noise - not a squeak, she'd never admit to squeaking - escaped Amanda and she pulled the shield back in closer to her; it was easier to hold a thicker shield when it wasn't covering a wide area. It was somewhat unnerving having those giant fists smashing only a few inches from her head, and despite herself she pulled more power from the city, a smell of ozone and exhaust rising. "You been watching Cartoon Network again?" she asked with another brief grin, beginning to circle around him to see how much mobility he had in that thing.
Not much. Trying to move was like wearing daddy's hiking boots at age four. Or, given the finesse he was trying to wrangle up, mommy's pumps. Mark's smile at Amanda was a strained one. "Well, you know Doug. Never turns the damn channel off." He regained his footing and attacked again, hoping to press her so she'd stop moving.
Involuntarily she ducked, even though the spell took the impact. "He does like his background noise," she grunted, taking a few steps backwards under the pressure of his assault. Her foot bumped against a piece of charred timber, and she stooped briefly to pick it up. Time to even things up - she took a swing at him, the wood passing through her shield to cluck against his construct.
It wasn't the force of the blow so much as the surprise of a large piece of wood zooming towards his face that unbalanced Mark. He fell, still managing to hold onto the exoskeleton, and lashed out with a kick. He was sweating now, his face red from the effort of holding this manifestation, but he forced himself back to his feet. He wasn't going to let the witch outpower him.
The kick had connected, catching Amanda off-balance and pushing her back. The chunk of wood clattered to the floor as she back-pedalled frantically, trying to keep her balance. 'You'd think with training with Wanda I'd have learned...' she scolded herself, trying to find a clear patch of floor to steady herself on. It was proving difficult - their to-and-fro had put them into a more debris-littered area. Another troll-sized glowing fist came at her, and she crossed her arms over her head, concentrating her power.
"Either I'm really weak," Mark panted, his face red from the exertion of maintaining the exoskeleton, "Or you're really strong. Remember when I blasted through in just a couple tries that time?" He punched the force field again, launching another shower of sparks through the darkness.
Amanda shrugged. "I"ve been eating my Weetabix?" she suggested, although there was a slightly pleased grin appearing. All that work seemed to have done something. She was starting to get tired, though, the effort of increasing and reducing the size of the spell beginning to tell. Still, she was going to give Mark a decent run - she pushed forward with the shield again, trying to push him back towards the burnt-out shells that had once been cargo containers.
Mark laid his construct's hands on the shield and pushed back. "You oughta share," he grunted, planting his feet to keep his ground. "T'ain't fair ta keep the good stuff all for yourself."
Docs scuffing against the scorched floor, Amanda braced herself against the movement, her grin turning wolfish. "I figure you wouldn't like the incentive," she replied, gritting her teeth and shoving back as hard as she could, her own hands coming up to match his. Mark's construct was strong and he was determined to not let her win. Well, two could play at the stubborn game. "Been doing my homework since Candra - this is what you get."
"Homework is so overrated," Mark said. Or would have said had he been able to produce any more sound that just grunting and moaning. She was pushing back hard, and he was running out of juice. He'd set his iPod to fade into the next track before the first one finished so that he'd never stop hearing music, but that brief second as one track grew silent and before the next one offered the right combination of sounds to fuel him, his exoskeleton slipped, and Amanda's shield flung him clear across the warehouse. Lucky for him it resolidified right before he crashed into the wall.
The sudden loss of resistance meant Amanda stumbled forward, and when she realised the crash had been Mark, her eyes grew round with horror. "Fuckfuckfuck..." she muttered under her breath, running over to check on him, the spell winking out around her. "Fucking hell, Mark, you okay?"
The light around Mark dimmed, but he pulled himself back to his feet before letting go of the exoskeleton and shutting off the music. "Okay, first? Ow. Second? OW!" He took off the bandana the held back his long hair and rubbed the back of his head. No bumps or bruises, thanks to the shield that popped up before impact. "Damn, girl, where'd you learn to do that?"
"I've been working on the magic more lately?" Amanda said lamely, satisfying herself he was okay by patting him down briefly. Nothing broken, apart from the wall behind him. "I had no idea I had that much power behind it, mate, I'm really sorry. You sure you're okay?"
"I'll be fine. Just need some 'pain reliever' when we get back. And, uh." He glanced over his shoulder at the vaguely Mark-shaped indentation in the wall. "We should probably scram before some busybody comes lookin'."
"Um. Yeah." Amanda's expression was sheepish as she looked at the dent. "Drinks on me this week?"
"Smells great, don't it?" Mark carefully pushed aside a fallen wooden panel that barred the entrance to a burned out warehouse settled along Manhattan's west side. The same one where only one year ago, he'd found himself suddenly entangled in a new world of mutant superspies and political intrigue and threats of Iraqi prison rape. Ah, memories. "We should've brought some Lysol or Febreeze. S'like just left this place here after they put out the fire and then forgot about it."
Amanda's nose wrinkled at the musty, burnt smell as she ducked through the half-blocked doorway and entered the burned-out shell. "At least it means we're not likely to have anyone walking in on us," she observed. Her boots crunched on shards of broken glass as she turned to watch Mark follow her in. "We sure the floor's sound? I'd hate to end up dropped in a basement or something unexpected."
Mark's stomps echoed through the dark, empty building. "Think so. I wouldn't go flinging fireballs around the rafters, though. Not unless you really want to try out your shield thingie under duress." He paused. "Don't tell Remy I even thought about that, because he'd so make you or me do it."
"...Yeah, that'd be a bit more of a workout than I'm looking for. That tunnel in Syria was bad enough." Amanda glanced up appraisingly at the rafters. "You know, I used to be able to do Fire, but I haven't been able to manage it since the whole reboot thing. Might be something to work on, along with the rest." Pulling her hands out of her front pockets, she laced her fingers together and cracked the knuckles with a stretch. "So, we're looking at tag? I don't have anything I can really hit you with powers-wise unless I throw George at you, but we could always test your aim and my shield?"
The bright light of the iPod's screen illuminated Mark's face, casting a soft white glow that made the small studs in his ears shine like small stars. He grinned at his inner poet. "I actually wanna test my Exosquad thing. I haven't been able to keep it up for too long, so I can try to maintain that while beating against your shield."
The Brit's expression turned cunning, as she took in the amount of debris lying around. She could figure out plenty of things to hammer his exo-thing with if she needed to change things up a bit. "Works for me, 'specially since I missed seeing the debut." Clapping her hands together smartly, she called up the shielding spell, its like the red-white-and-blue of police squad car lights. "And we don't have to worry about putting a hole in the wall of the brownstone, so let's see what you've got, Boy Dazzler."
"Oh my God. I'm so going to kill you." White light wrapped around Mark when he pressed the play button and put his iPod in his pocket. He could clearly hear the orchestral renditions of rock music from the headphones he wore around his neck, sculpting the light and energy into a vaguely human-shaped exoskeleton. He took a deep breath as it solidified, forcing himself to clear his mind so he could focus on this manifestation. Satisfied that it wouldn't collapse too easily, he raised one giant fist and slammed a punch against Amanda's shield.
Sparks flew as light-shield met magic, and Amanda braced her feet slightly to avoid being pushed back. Using the trick she'd been doing with Wanda before Illyana's abrupt appearance and disappearance, she pushed out with both hands, shoving the bubble of light around her forward. Couldn't let Mark have all the fun, after all.
The exoskeleton staggered back, and Mark pushed himself forward to keep it from toppling over backwards. It took a few seconds for him to regain his footing, but when he did, he didn't hesitate the second attack, this time aiming half a dozen wild punches at her like some demented troll.
A small noise - not a squeak, she'd never admit to squeaking - escaped Amanda and she pulled the shield back in closer to her; it was easier to hold a thicker shield when it wasn't covering a wide area. It was somewhat unnerving having those giant fists smashing only a few inches from her head, and despite herself she pulled more power from the city, a smell of ozone and exhaust rising. "You been watching Cartoon Network again?" she asked with another brief grin, beginning to circle around him to see how much mobility he had in that thing.
Not much. Trying to move was like wearing daddy's hiking boots at age four. Or, given the finesse he was trying to wrangle up, mommy's pumps. Mark's smile at Amanda was a strained one. "Well, you know Doug. Never turns the damn channel off." He regained his footing and attacked again, hoping to press her so she'd stop moving.
Involuntarily she ducked, even though the spell took the impact. "He does like his background noise," she grunted, taking a few steps backwards under the pressure of his assault. Her foot bumped against a piece of charred timber, and she stooped briefly to pick it up. Time to even things up - she took a swing at him, the wood passing through her shield to cluck against his construct.
It wasn't the force of the blow so much as the surprise of a large piece of wood zooming towards his face that unbalanced Mark. He fell, still managing to hold onto the exoskeleton, and lashed out with a kick. He was sweating now, his face red from the effort of holding this manifestation, but he forced himself back to his feet. He wasn't going to let the witch outpower him.
The kick had connected, catching Amanda off-balance and pushing her back. The chunk of wood clattered to the floor as she back-pedalled frantically, trying to keep her balance. 'You'd think with training with Wanda I'd have learned...' she scolded herself, trying to find a clear patch of floor to steady herself on. It was proving difficult - their to-and-fro had put them into a more debris-littered area. Another troll-sized glowing fist came at her, and she crossed her arms over her head, concentrating her power.
"Either I'm really weak," Mark panted, his face red from the exertion of maintaining the exoskeleton, "Or you're really strong. Remember when I blasted through in just a couple tries that time?" He punched the force field again, launching another shower of sparks through the darkness.
Amanda shrugged. "I"ve been eating my Weetabix?" she suggested, although there was a slightly pleased grin appearing. All that work seemed to have done something. She was starting to get tired, though, the effort of increasing and reducing the size of the spell beginning to tell. Still, she was going to give Mark a decent run - she pushed forward with the shield again, trying to push him back towards the burnt-out shells that had once been cargo containers.
Mark laid his construct's hands on the shield and pushed back. "You oughta share," he grunted, planting his feet to keep his ground. "T'ain't fair ta keep the good stuff all for yourself."
Docs scuffing against the scorched floor, Amanda braced herself against the movement, her grin turning wolfish. "I figure you wouldn't like the incentive," she replied, gritting her teeth and shoving back as hard as she could, her own hands coming up to match his. Mark's construct was strong and he was determined to not let her win. Well, two could play at the stubborn game. "Been doing my homework since Candra - this is what you get."
"Homework is so overrated," Mark said. Or would have said had he been able to produce any more sound that just grunting and moaning. She was pushing back hard, and he was running out of juice. He'd set his iPod to fade into the next track before the first one finished so that he'd never stop hearing music, but that brief second as one track grew silent and before the next one offered the right combination of sounds to fuel him, his exoskeleton slipped, and Amanda's shield flung him clear across the warehouse. Lucky for him it resolidified right before he crashed into the wall.
The sudden loss of resistance meant Amanda stumbled forward, and when she realised the crash had been Mark, her eyes grew round with horror. "Fuckfuckfuck..." she muttered under her breath, running over to check on him, the spell winking out around her. "Fucking hell, Mark, you okay?"
The light around Mark dimmed, but he pulled himself back to his feet before letting go of the exoskeleton and shutting off the music. "Okay, first? Ow. Second? OW!" He took off the bandana the held back his long hair and rubbed the back of his head. No bumps or bruises, thanks to the shield that popped up before impact. "Damn, girl, where'd you learn to do that?"
"I've been working on the magic more lately?" Amanda said lamely, satisfying herself he was okay by patting him down briefly. Nothing broken, apart from the wall behind him. "I had no idea I had that much power behind it, mate, I'm really sorry. You sure you're okay?"
"I'll be fine. Just need some 'pain reliever' when we get back. And, uh." He glanced over his shoulder at the vaguely Mark-shaped indentation in the wall. "We should probably scram before some busybody comes lookin'."
"Um. Yeah." Amanda's expression was sheepish as she looked at the dent. "Drinks on me this week?"