Operation: Take A Bow - Banishment

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The stalked lure the stalkers to St. Mark’s Church in-the-Bowery.


Saint Mark's Church in-the-Bowery is one of the oldest churches in the US still in use. Built in the nineteenth century, it was nearly destroyed by a fire in 1978. A block away on 3rd and 10th, Mark stopped walking to admire the federal architecture and lit a cigarette to calm his nerves. The now-familiar silver flashed in the corner of his eye again, and he repressed a shudder. The Warwolves seemed to be growing more anxious and less cautious if they were being spotted so much. They'd already killed, and it was hard not to feel some guilt, since the demons were slaughtering their way through Manhattan to get to them. Mark crushed his half-consumed cigarette beneath his foot and steeled himself before cautiously walking the last few feet to the empty church.

He sneaked inside and quietly shut the doors behind him. It was his first time in a church in years, and even without the art and structures of his more familiar Catholic church, the grandeur was still intimidating. "Well, I didn't burst into flames yet," he said quietly. "We're off to a good start."

There was a soft chuckle from one of the pews up ahead as Wanda glanced over her shoulder. She'd beaten Mark to the place by all of two minutes and had opted to take a side door in instead of the main entry way. "Lack of combustion on our end?" she sent back. "I'd say only a matter of time." There'd been a tail the entire way though Wanda had no outward sight of them. Glimpses, here and there, but that ever growing feeling of being watched had never wavered. The hair on the back of her neck was in a constant state of sticking up and she was sorely getting tired of the game the Warwolves were playing.

The doors abruptly opened again, admitting Amanda, who hesitated slightly before she came in. Despite the hesitation, she was slightly out of breath, cheeks pink. "Don't think we've got a lot of time," she said, hurrying up to the other two and hoisting the book bag she was carrying a little higher onto her shoulder. "I had to double back a few times to make sure I got some wriggle room, but they're getting twitchy." She glanced over the church, taking in the layout and closed her eyes briefly, trying to 'feel' the specific energy of the building. Tricky when she had New York as a whole washing over her, but things felt better over... there. Opening her eyes again, she nodded at the altar. "I'll try and open the portal there, in front of the altar - 's the best place energy-wise. Try not to blow anything up there? Explosions mess up portals something horrible."

"I would like to second that." Marie-Ange came in just behind Amanda, barely giving her surroundings a second glance. She'd been in the church several times before - as an architecture project, and several times for Mass. It wasn't quite Catholic mass, but then, she wasn't quite Catholic anymore. "I would like us to not get arrested for destroying a historical building." She undid her coat and then removed a rosary from around her wrist, putting into her pocket.

"Sign me up for not getting arrested. I like that part." Doug seated himself quietly at the opposite end of Wanda's pew and looking up at the crucifix. He considered himself agnostic at the best of times, but the quiet reverence that pervaded the sanctuary was a welcome, if likely all too brief respite from being stalked by the Warwolves. "Can I sign up for being not eviscerated as well? Because that sounds like a good idea."

"I've been there. It's overrated." Sarah watched their surroundings warily, more for preparations than any sense of artistic or religious awe. Where would be the best place to fight them off? How many doors did this place have anyway?

After having spent a good five hours working on new playlists, Mark felt somewhat confident that evisceration could be postponed for a while. Destruction of the church, maybe not. He took out his iPod to queue up the right song and smiled wryly at Marie-Ange. "Some might say that such an assault on a religious institution, even indirect, is a good thing. It's like doing a mitzvah." He paused to make another smartass remark, but was promptly shut up by a horrifying wail. It made his gut fall to his feet. "Fuck."

Amanda paled. Somehow hearing that sound in the middle of New York instead of an abandoned cabin in the Tennessee woods didn't make it any less chilling. She hoisted her book bag a little more firmly on her shoulder. "Did I mention I hate being the bait? There's that whole 'in the nick of time' thing that makes me nervous."

"There is more to this building than its religious significance." Marie-Ange said quietly. "When all of this is over, I will show you the art projects they host." She pulled her coat around her - closed, it had felt confining, but even inside, she couldn't get warm. "I just want this to be over."

Doug's eyes widened at the howl, and his fingers flexed back and forth. "Amen to that."

~*~

Emma and Remy prepare the others to ambush the Warwolves.


In the darkness, the flashes of silver ran like sun on the water; mercurial and protean. They were tiny tongues of light in the darkness, barely there but for an instant, and gone again, replaced by another and another, flickering here and there in teasing regularity. The Warwolves had found the dead place, where the bodies of mayors and thieves had spent centuries in the grounds, resting on the bones of a society of natives. Their movements where the caution of a predator, not made out of fear but to ensure that escape was impossible for their prey. The thought that it might be dangerous to them never crossed their focused thoughts.

Past the silver, there were other lights in the murky near dark of the city, and a pair of red dots followed the movements closely. LeBeau was nearly invisible, in his perch above them on the church. He looked not for shape but movement, slowly tracking the numbers of Warwolves as they prowled closer to the church where they had tracked their targets. Right into an ambush they couldn't know.

#Stop fidgeting, Lee." He thought, his 'voice' coming clear over the telepathic web that Emma Frost had linked them with. Similar to the telepathic switchboard that the X-Men used, they could speak in direct thoughts to each other without sound betraying them. It was of some amusement that LeBeau's telepathic voice was flat and without his Cajun accent. #There's a few more than we thought. We'll have to make sure they're all inside the church doors before we hit them.#

#I'm not fidgetin'. I'm gettin' comfortable. # Jubilee responded, her mental voice loud by comparison to Remy's more flat tone. #Let's just hope they haven't brought the whole family or we're gonna be pretty screwed.#

#It's lucky they are not telepathic or they would be able to hear you in Kansas.# Emma's mental voice conveyed her irritation. #Please don't take this opportunity to decide to get comfortable with chattering inside my head.# She checked the progress of the team inside the church. #Nearly there# she reported. #Just Sarah to go.#

Bishop wasn't much one to talk, even telepathically, unless he had something to say. At the moment he had nothing, he was waiting patiently, watching. He knew that the perfect moment would quickly pass if he wasn't ready for it. With all the chattering at least one person would have to be paying close attention and it might as well be him.

#Everyone's in. Bishop, Amanda's heading to the altar,# Emma reported tersely. The Warwolves' eerie wailing echoed through the night and Emma's power reached out to find the source. Even though she knew she was as blind to them as they were to her, the emptiness in her mind still made Emma's tension levels rise. She hated waiting for an enemy that she wouldn't know was there until after they started their attack.

Tension was released as a telepathic gasp echoed into her mind, something garbled and incomplete but clear in its message. #They've started,# she said. #Everyone, go.#

Then her head was cleared of everyone else's thoughts as her body rippled into diamond. #Oh, my little Wolves,# thought Emma, alone in her mind. #Please do try and bite me.#

~*~

While Amanda sets to banish the Warwolves, X-Force attacks.


"Showtime!" Amanda backed up as the Warwolves plunged forward, heading for the spot she'd mentally staked out. Her hand was already in her jacket pocket, reaching for the magic marker she used for protective wards and the like (marker was easier than chalk to manage in a crisis - no inconvenient breaking at the worst possible moment!) and she was resisting the urge to raise her shielding spell. Unfortunately, she couldn't spare the power that would need. "Bishop, any time you want to do the body guard thing!" she called.

Bishop was a professional, however, and so ignored Amanda's amateur urgings. He was functioning just fine, using his pistol to methodically pick off those furthest away from them in the charging group of Warwolves. This allowed those charging to believe they were effective so they would continue doing exactly what they were. In reality he was thinning their ranks significantly and then dealing with a small number at a time in close quarters. He wore his body armor and thick leathers, of course, to prevent scratches and the like as he fought hand to hand. It was also helpful they were the ones who had prepared ahead of time so that he could do all of this with the benefit of his mutation.

Apparently Bishop was a man of little words. Fine by her, since he was managing nicely with keeping them away from her - a scratch from one of the demons would take their chance to force them back to their own dimension out of the running completely. Dropping to her knees, she let the bookbag fall to the floor beside her and began drawing a rough circle around herself, humming slightly under her breath as she did. Opening portals was traditional magic, something her powers weren't happy with, but she'd adapted before. She recapped the marker and let it drop, reaching to pull a book out of her bag along with what looked suspiciously like the astray that usually sat on her coffee table in her apartment. Her jacket yielded her pack of cigarettes and she shook one out, crumbling it into the ashtray.

"One offering, coming up," she murmured, flipping open the book to the page she'd marked with a coaster from Finnegan's as she started feeling for her lighter.

A Zippo clattered on to the ground next to her "I do my research and lighters always die at the worst time. That one's ready." Bishop had actually brought a pack of cigarettes as well, just in case. He had reviewed what he could of the ritual ahead of time. He had been in the practice of bringing spare equipment for a long time now. He had also been fighting for a long time, apparently. He had set up his fire so that it never crossed over her while managing to stay between her and any Warwolves. He liked to think he was good at what he did.

She flashed him a brief grin. "Gotta love a man who's always ready," she replied, catching up the Zippo. It lit straight away, as promised, and as she touched the flame to the fragments of paper and tobacco in the ashtray, she began reading aloud from the book, the Latin coming a bit more haltingly than it used to and a pressure beginning in her temples. Not her usual magic, but needs must and she was relatively confident she could coax her power through the traditional spell. 'And if coaxing doesn't work, there's always brute force...' she reminded herself - the Warwolves were too dangerous to remain loose.

~

Jubilee had over-estimated her abilities against an unfamiliar opponent, it was the only thing she could think of to explain why she now had her arms pinned to her sides and was about to have her shoulder and neck have a rather close and intimate relationship with a Warwolf's jaws. She struggled unsuccessfully against the hold, trying to find some leverage but the beast was much larger, and her feet were now held off the ground, giving her no leverage whatsoever.

If Doug had had a spare moment for whimsy in the midst of the frantic melee, he would have thought that he owed himself five dollars due to Jubilee getting in over her head. She hadn't really seemed like she'd heeded the warnings they'd tried to give her, and now she was paying the price. As he darted in, his fingers stiffened and jabbed at several points on the demon's body. They certainly weren't human, but hopefully they'd react like humans to getting hit in nerve clusters.

Of course, all that was going to do was make it drop Jubilee and probably be ragingly pissed off at him, but getting Jubilee out of harm's way was the more immediate issue.

She felt the lessening of the hold around her arms as the Warwolf threw back its head and howled in pain, making several of its brothers look their way. Jubilee dropped to the ground, plasma arcs immediately bursting into existence around her body, sending the beast staggering back several steps as rings of multi-coloured plasma suddenly swirled around her body in a corona of power. It wasn't a shield, but it would stop any of them from simply grabbing her again, not unless they wanted to be badly burned.

"Shit eater," she swore, as the Warwolf hesitated for a moment over which of them to pursue. In a burst of speed, it made its choice, leaping toward Doug as she launched a plasma blast at its now unprotected back.

Well, on the upside, he definitely had its attention now. On the downside, it meant those slavering jaws now wanted a piece of his flesh. Doug fell back, trying to trade space for time to let Jubilee's plasma bursts do their work. The Warwolf was quicker, though, and Doug barely managed to get his arms up and crossed in time to deflect a vicious downward swipe of claws which opened several long cuts from wrist to elbow. He hissed as they began to well up and bleed, and stopped backpedaling in order to get inside the demon's guard. ~When in doubt, fight dirty,~ he thought to himself, throwing a trio of punches as hard as he could into the thing's belly, then bringing his knee sharply up into its groin.

Jubilee watched as the Warwolf seemed to pause for a moment and then slid to its knees with a high pitched whine. "Fuckin' run!" she yelled at Doug as she gathered more power and sent a burst upward toward the roof, hoping to bury the beast under bricks, wood and a load of pigeon shit. She took her own advice and turned to dive out of the way as she hoped none of the bastards had snuck up behind her.

Doug took several quick steps and dove, tucking his shoulder and rolling to a stop against one of the walls as he prayed whatever Jubilee was trying to do worked.

With a loud crack, the roof above them gave, sending pews from the upper deck of the church as well as wood and brick down onto the head of the Warwolf who had seemingly recovered from its brief incapacitation and was even now looking back and forth between the two squishy humans who had caused it so much pain. It yelped once, and then disappeared under the rubble, hopefully not to be seen again as far as Jubilee could have wished had she been thinking about it. Instead, she was just so relieved to be alive and in retention of all her limbs that she allowed herself a rest for a second. She leant against the wall of the church, not caring that the plasma currently swirling around her was burning a rather nasty burn in the décor.

"You dead?" she called over to Doug.

His arm wasn't hurting. In fact, he could barely feel it, and he checked frantically to make sure it was still there. Then his brain finally caught up and he remembered the anesthetic quality of the Warwolves' attacks. On the other hand, he could definitely feel sore ribs from the way he'd impacted the wall. "No," he said shortly. "Not for lack of trying, though."

~

Wolves snapping at her heels, how quaint. Wanda bared her teeth in return as she dove in between a pair wooden pews and felt a pair of claws rake where her head had just been. The Warwolf howled in irritation, its claws digging into the old wood beneath the paws. Needless to say, Wanda barely paused, discovering that she could roll with some difficulty under the seats.

She managed to put a few feet of distance between she and it before it was moving again. Half way under one, she gripped the underside and shoved with her foot against another one right as the Warwolf stepped down. It yelped as the pews shifted and trapped it for a second, the foot pinned painfully.

If it had been anything other than what it really was, that is.

But even as it threw off the offending wood it bought Wanda more time to roll fully under one and she paused, breathing heavily as it landed atop of the bench. The low growls vibrated the wood and she sucked in a breath to steady herself, hands stretching up. Palms against roughened wood, fingers spread wide, the vibrations ran through her fingers and down her arms.

A pale red light spilled out from either side of the pew and grew in intensity, ignored by the creature currently attempting to rip through the wood with its teeth and claws. As the seconds flew by the color intensified until it as if the floor of the church was awash with blood.

The Warwolf stopped a second before the wood shook - then exploded out and upwards, rotting away from the inside. Following on its heels the hex blast tore into the creature's head and it screamed, the lack of distance coupling with the initial explosion to surprise and even hurt it.

For the second time Wanda managed to get a leg up and slammed her foot into its stomach, sending it flying in a heap several feet away from her. Covered in rotting splinters and rusted nails Wanda rolled into a crouch, fully prepared to launch another attack. Only when it seemed that it wasn't going to get up for the moment did she turn back towards the fray.

~

Jubilee noticed the Warwolf trying to creep up on Remy moments before it reached him, and was about to launch an attack when the Cajun quickly dispatched it with a series of efficient movements. There were some days when she resented the skill the others showed, resented just how behind she seemed to be when it came to some of her current compatriots but now was not one of those days. She'd been saved several times already and would no doubt be saved several times before it was all over, she just hoped she could return the favour and thin the ranks a little herself.

"Nice." she called, and then moved aside gracefully as a Warwolf launched itself at her in what looked to be an attempt at a tackle.

"Lee, duck." Remy said, and fortunately Jubilee dove to the floor just ahead of the Warwolf coming from the other direction, having been set up by the first one. Remy bullrushed past it, grabbing her by the collar and hurling her to her feet. "Dey a pack, petite. Dat's how dey fight."

He backed her up behind him, using his staff to keep them at an arcs distance as they crisscrossed, moving in. The Warwolves were killable, but they died hard, and one scratch was enough to put any of them out of the battle and helpless. Remy tapped the floor in front with the end of the staff, daring them forward, but they weren't taking the bait.

"They're trying to flank us." she noted, watching as several other Warwolves moved in on them from the sides. She raised her hands and launched a stream of plasma out to each side, hoping to make the Warwolves think twice before coming in that way. "Any ideas would be good right now."

"When I say, pump you fireworks out in all directions and get down." Remy said, hands tightening on the staff. Lee was wrong; they weren't going to flank them. They were going to leap, using their combined weight to scatter them and move at which ever one ended up vulnerable.

She would've asked what he was going to be doing but she'd long ago learned that sometimes you just didn't ask questions, it was quicker that way. Instead, she reached for power, gathering it up inside and pumping it into the sparks already swirling close to her skin, it would be the work of seconds to send them streaming out in all directions.

"Steady." Remy muttered, watching them. Fucking demons. Well, only one chance at this. LeBeau slammed his staff into the ground in front of them, channeling a charge into the stone. As he hoped, both Warwolves sprung at that moment.

"Lee, now!" He yelled, ducking to the ground as Jubilee did the same, but not before sending an expanding cloud of fireworks out from her body, which the Warwolves passed harmlessly into. LeBeau raised a hand, and suddenly all of Jubilee's fireworks went purple. It had been back years ago at the mansion that they discovered LeBeau could charge her fireworks. Now, they became a punishing cloud of kinetic energy that the Warwolves hung in the centre of. As the charges exploded, the silvery skin was shredded, and the two ruined carcasses that slammed into the floor on the other side bore little resemblance to anything once alive.

~

"I feel like we've done this before." Sarah sent a bone knife sailing towards one of the wolves, who had bounded around the first wave of the pack towards the other side of the church. They looked pretty busy over there already. The knife sliced across its shoulder, and it stopped and twisted in the air, mid-leap. She grabbed another bone from her shoulder, gripping it tightly as the silver creature regained its footing and came after her, stepping over another wolf in the process.

Great. Like she really needed two at a time.

The wolves came growling after her, snapping at each other as if they were fighting over who would get to kill her first. Sarah took a step backwards, and then another, trying to distance herself, but still keep herself out in the open, not trapped against a wall. Sarah picked one and threw another bone knife at it, and the creature knocked it away with a massive paw. She pulled another club, stretching out to swing it at the other's head. The bone connected, stunning it, but the move left her open for the other Warwolf to attack. It clawed through her shirt, and down to the bone armor below. The weight of the Warwolf pushed her forward, and she managed to scramble away to the pews before it could try again and get somewhere that -wasn't- covered with bone.

~

It had been such a long time since she'd done this in earnest. Oh, she had kept up the training, with a range of people known as masters of their craft, but it'd all been soft, diamond back to flesh whenever it got close enough to really wound. They had made up fighting styles just for her, to get her close enough, inside guards, inside arms and teeth and swords and guns, but she always - always! - held back on that last blow.

Now there were no limits.

"Come to me, little Wolves," Emma whispered into the night. "Come to me, puppies."

The first one came at her, all silver and gaping mouth, leaping high, paws extended. She braced, weight centred and low, ready for the impact. The Warwolf's paws hit, scrabbled across unexpected diamond, finding nothing it could scratch open, nothing it could mark as its own. Emma moved, a liquid rippling and the Warwolf's paws slid over her shoulders, its head going high to counterbalance the shift in its weight, exposing its neck. Before it could even think of moving, Emma's hands slid up, reached forward, closed and ripped downwards. Silver tore away in chunks as the Warwolf's throat opened under the assault and its wail was cut short. Its weight fell forward as it choked desperately, and Emma's right hand stiffened, jabbed upwards with the combined force of her weight and the Warwolf's. Diamond sliced up through jaw and skull and brain until it drove through the back of the Warwolf's head.

Emma looked down at her outfit with some regret as she shifted the angle of her arm and the Warwolf's body slid bonelessly to the floor. "That is going to stain," she murmured, then looked up with a grin as silver flashed again.

"Here, puppy puppy puppy," she hummed as the next Warwolf stalked around her. "Come and see what I have for you."

~*~

The tide turns, and X-Force realizes they've been tricked.


There are many exciting ways to spend a Friday night. Battling demons in a church in a populous neighborhood to banish them back to their hell dimension was not what Mark had in mind. At least at the rate they were going, he might be able to slip into Silver for a couple of hours to start the weekend off properly.

The air around him hissed as he focused his energies outward, superheating the air into crackling plasma that knocked a Warwolf off its feet and left it whimpering in pain. Sounds he barely heard, though, because even with his headphones around his neck, the shrieking vocals and violent percussion of Slayer all but drowned out his surroundings. As the demon struggled to right itself, Mark blasted its front paws, and it collapsed to the ground again.

"Stop playing nice, Mark." LeBeau said behind him, as three cards flashed through the air an inch from his ear, and exploded against the creature's head. "Dis bastards are not fucking 'bout."

The Cajun sped past Mark, and caught the one attempting to close on the body of its companion with a blow to the end of the nose. He pivoted and followed it up with a kick to the midsection, the demon barely slowing with the impact.

"This is 'playing nice'?" Mark asked rhetorically. He flung another blast at Remy's opponent, and the creature shrieked horribly. Mark tried not to wince. It was utterly inhuman and frightened him to the core. He took a step back and fired again, nearly blasting a hole through its chest. The golden glow around his hands dimmed as a brief wave of nausea rolled over him. It wasn't often he used that much power at once.

"Oui." Remy said flatly, every sense focused on the creatures swarming the church. There seemed to be no end to them, the silver of their skins mercurial in the light, making it difficult to determine how many opponents they actually had.

They'd fought these demons before and barely kept them at bay. Their only key to winning was Josh's sacrifice. They had not such double-edged trump card this time. "There are so many of them," Mark pointed out unnecessarily. "How could so many have come here without being summoned?"

"Dey must of--FUCK!" The Cajun had paused with Mark's question just a bit too long, and a pair of scalpel like silver claws had raked his chest, opening up wounds shallow only thanks to his preternatural reflexes. The Warwolf held the claws up to his mouth and licked the blood with a yellow glare.

It turned out to be a mistake as Remy's blow caught it on the wrist, and his grip drove the broken hand, fingers first, into the mouth of the demon, slamming all five claws through the back of its head and well into the brain. Its eyes dimmed as Remy tossed it carelessly to the side.

The glow around Mark's hands flared anxiously and he dashed to Remy. "You OK? You . . . aah!" Another demon leaped down onto them from the balcony above, and Mark blasted it square in the groin. It flew up higher then fell to the ground with the crash. Another blast flung it through a pew.

"Pay attention to what's happening around you." Remy all but snarled. There were too many closing to keep them controlled. Eventually, they'd get through and slice a couple of people out of the line X-Force was holding. "Mark, Remy need dis place brought down!"

"There weren't this many when we started!" Mark protested. He turned and saw another lurking in the shadows in a corner, its silvery skin mostly consumed by shadow but its red eyes glowing brightly. He blasted low, and as predicted it jumped aside to avoid it. With his free hand, Mark blasted high, and a section of the balcony above exploded, dropping chunks of stone and wood on top of it.

"Dey ambushed de ambush. Stay focused." Remy grabbed a Warwolf who tried to slip past him to reach Mark, and held two fingers over its eyes. When the Cajun had taken his hand away, the creature's eyes glowed purple for a moment, and then exploded. The demon screamed as it dropped, a high keening wail that drew the glare of all of the others.

"We need to contain dis, now."

~

Jubilee blinked in shock as the dog-like creature disappeared and reappeared directly in front of her. It was only training and speed that allowed her to complete a jump just as the creature made a powerful swipe at what would have been knee level. It was a shame that the jump almost had her landing on the Warwolf who'd appeared right behind her, the twin to the one in front of her and seemingly working in concert. The ensuing concussive blast of light, and the sound of pained yelps rose high for a second before being abruptly cut off.

Jubilee looked down at the two smoking corpses with a somewhat shaky but satisfied look only to start swearing as they both started to move again. "You've got to be fuckin' joking."

"Get down!" Wanda barked from behind as she dodged an upturned chair and started towards Jubilee and the still moving Warwolves. Breathing hard from the battle - they were losing some serious ground - she didn't even stop moving as she gathered chaotic energy to her. Letting two fly free, they zipped right over Jubilee's head and...they arched down over the heads of the creatures as well.

Jubilee forced herself not to glance back at Wanda in disbelief and instead sent another stream of plasma sparks into the eyes of her assailants as she moved from the crouch she'd assumed on Wanda's warning, dodging to the right as one went left and ducking low under the left handed blow of another. She was holding her own alright but she was tiring, the constant dodging was beginning to take its toll.

And then Wanda was running past, snagging Jubilee by her collar as she yanked them both out of the way. The Warwolves turned to follow but stopped as something cracked and groaned above them. Growling, they looked up right as the ancient looking organ suddenly crumbled, raining wood and metal down upon them in a shower that they tried in vain to avoid.

Jubilee allowed herself to be dragged, getting her balance back as she watched the Warwolves disappear under the rubble.

"Nice shot," she noted, immediately reaching over to pull Wanda down into a crouch as she felt another of the Warwolves appear behind them, and then go sailing over their heads as its pounce met air rather then warm bodies.

That teleportation thing was getting really fucking annoying, and it was with supreme irritation that she launched a series of plasma blasts directly into its face.

Things were changing so often and fast that Wanda felt she was a single step behind everything. And in this case, a single misstep could potentially mean death. From somewhere off to the side, a wolf that was worrying at one of their teammates suddenly tripped and stumbled as it was unable to find purchase anymore.

It tumbled sideways and took out its friend in front of the pair but only for a second as they both struggled to rise to their feet.

Jubilee groaned as she and Wanda finally managed to get upright and into a position to defend themselves, she figured the bruises she'd gotten earlier now had bruises and after this was all over she was going to spend a week in a hot bath. If they managed to get out alive, which was starting to look dicey for sure. She reached inside herself for the well of energy that was always present and sent it up and outward toward the pair of Warwolves, being careful to keep the streams of plasma from touching Wanda beside her.

Wanda wiped her palms off on her pants and quickly thought about it. Their powers were only slowing them down and what they really needed to do was regroup. And fast. "If I were you, I would make with the flippy shit right about now," she told, nodding sharply towards where some of the others were scattered around, fighting their own battles.

It would mean a solid mass of their enemies but it would also be a solid mass of them. If they could even make it.

"What about you?" Jubilee asked, ducking aside from another close swipe. Soon enough she wasn't going to have enough energy left to avoid the blows. But she wasn't willing to just leave the other woman here, and she didn't yet know all the strengths of her current team, or their weaknesses.

"Do not worry about me, just go. I will be right behind you."

She didn't try to argue, simply took off at a dead run around their current assailants, dodging, weaving and jumping over claw swipes and bites that would have left nasty ragged wounds had they connected.

While they were distracted, Wanda cut around the other side. She scrambled over the top of the pews easily - she might not have enjoyed Remy or Jubilee's agility but her legs were long and allowed her to clear the wooden benches easily. She gritted her teeth as the sounds of pursuit became clear.

What the hell was it going to take to stop these things?

~

Tobacco smoke wafted around Amanda's face as she hunched over the book. Around her, her team mates, her friends were outnumbered, rapidly losing ground. Part of her longed to be out there, helping them, fighting alongside them, but she knew it'd be next to useless. She was where she ought to be.

Now to finish the bloody job so they could all go home.

The muzzle flashes from Bishop's pistol kept lighting the room, he hoped that they wouldn't interfere with whatever this ritual called for. Though he couldn't decide if Amanda was smoking as part of it or because of stress. He was beyond good at focusing despite all these thoughts, however. Even with the new energy crackling around him, the magic and the nature of the Warwolves, Bishop was very efficient.

The book called for the traditional Latin chant, but the thing was, Amanda's magic didn't work that way any more. Not since she started using cities for power. However, there was more than one way to skin a cat. Lifting the book, and with an apologetic shrug to whoever might be in earshot, she began to sing. Well, not so much sing as rap - the words already rhymed, so it wasn't a huge stretch, just a matter of changing the cadence. Amanda, however, was as white a white girl had ever been, and she knew it. Still, she didn't have to be good to make this work - already she was feeling the rippling sensation of the walls between dimensions starting to thin.

If something very important wasn't pending Amanda's ritual Bishop would have been ready with jokes. Rapping, really, magically? He had heard a ton off odd things around the office already but this was just absurd. He didn't understand why anyone would listen to rap regardless. It was a huge series of people talking about how awesome they were or how hard their life was, in general. He understood the desire to relate with someone who also had a difficult life but, in his experience, people that were awesome or did have severe challenges had the confidence to not need so much reassurance. Rap had become much more of a middle class event recently anyway, such as Puffy and Kanye. And as Bishop shot and wrestled Warwolves he had figured he could claim some expertise here.

If Amanda had been aware of Bishop's thoughts, she probably would have agreed. Unfortunately, New York's energy preferred rap to rock, as she had discovered after practicing variations, and as her accent butchered the Latin, it wasn't doing much more for the style of music, either. More Morris Minor and the Majors than Public Enemy. Oh well, whatever worked... and it did seem to be working. She could feel the pressure building up in her head as the energies grew. Her concentration deepened, drowning out the sounds of battle. Just a little more...

Bishop was a trained fighter in just about every respect, however from watching him work one might not imagine. He wore leather clothes thick and sturdy enough that he didn't fear too much from the Warwolves. One even approached Bishop close enough that he could grapple and after grabbing the thing by the throat, so he could stay clear of its jaws, he slammed it into the ground; the force was hard enough to break its neck. Despite being competent in close combat the pistol was safer and he relied on that more for Amanda's sake.

~

Fun as it was ripping out the throat of Warwolves one by one, the joy somewhat paled when they came in wave upon wave upon wave. There wasn't enough time to do sufficient damage to any one Warwolf before it danced out of reach and another took its place. They had been too clever, Emma knew, cursing the fact that she had been mind-blind to the second ambush.

People with plasma blasts were helpful, Emma decided. When the Warwolf had already sustained damage from a plasma bolt, particularly if they'd been blinded, she could take it down fast and make sure there was at least one less opponent.

Emma stalked towards Mark, the desperate sizzle and arc of his powers shorting through the Warwolves. She ducked beneath another silver blow, hand ripping up a lateral muscle, slicing the Warwolf open so it spun away from her and another took its place. Then one stumbled backwards into her reach, paws desperately batting at its own face, its blackened eyes, and she turned, driving a foot upwards and through its brain. The satisfaction of watching it slump to the floor almost made up for the sudden and tragic demise of half the stitching on her Sergio Rossi boot.

Plasma sizzled in front of her again, followed by a yelp and desperate cursing. Emma turned towards the sound and made another attempt to get closer to Mark, thwarted by the coursing, gleaming bodies of masses of Warwolves.

"I believe that's Plan A and Plan B done with," she muttered as she waded into the fight again. "I do hope someone's come up with Plan C."

~

Jubilee had managed to make her way from one part of the church to the other and closer to the small group of her colleagues by the simple process of using the pews around her as vaulting points, rather then obstacles. It was thus with a rather more frustrated then frightened scream that she viewed the Warwolf who'd just appeared a few meters from her, directly in the path between her and the rather dubious safety of the group.

The Warwolf was badly burned, silvery skin sloughing off in places, one leg badly mangled. The injuries were the only things that kept Jubilee from a bloody eaten-by-Warwolf death. It was just slowed down enough that she could pull back just out of its reach as it stalked her.

It tensed to leap forward, but before its hind legs left the ground, the Warwolf collapsed, claws missing Jubilee's legs by barely an inch. Or, rather, the front half of the Warwolf fell over, separated from its lower limbs by panes of brightly colored stained glass that hung for a moment, and then fell forward themselves, breaking into shattered pieces and then dissolving, the ectoplasm melting in the Warwolf's blood.

Jubilee had leapt already her side flip taking her only just out of the path of the now dead Warwolf. She realised she needn't have bothered when she came upright again, crouched for another jump. It was one of the most disgusting and violent things she'd seen so far from the group of people she'd fallen in with. Especially coming from Marie-Ange, who was the only one who could have been the originator of this particular power display. She looked over at where the other woman was standing, fingers just moving from the deck of cards in her hand.

"Fuckin' hell Colbert, disgusting much? Did you have to chop the fucking thing in half like that?" She spat, shakiness at her brush with near-death hidden within the angry words as it was so much these days.

"Yes." Marie-Ange answered, already reaching forward to haul Jubilee back towards the group. By the collar, if necessary. "This is not a game, these demons will not stop to think how disgusting it is if one of them disembowels us." She gave a resigned shrug, and replaced the card in her hand back in the deck in her other. A moment of free time spent to put them back in order could buy her a much needed second to not have to think about it later.

Jubilee took the time that getting back to the rest of the group took to quell what might have been her immediate verbal responses. She wasn't the type to go into battle with a grim determination to maim the living hell out of everything around her, that didn't mean she didn't take this seriously, or didn't know just how dangerous these demons were. She'd had several examples tonight, and in the past to draw on when it came to demons.

"Sorry, just not used to watchin' something get sliced to bits in front of me." Jubilee said finally, having bitten back everything else she might have wanted to say.

Marie-Ange would've rolled her eyes, if she'd not been busy watching for more of the Warwolves. Like any of them were -used- to it. "It was necessary." She explained, biting off anything further. Getting in a war of words with Jubilee could wait until they were all home and bandaging wounds.

"How many more?" Jubilee asked, her own eyes scanning the shadows for more Warwolves, the dust from the broken bits of ceiling and the small spot fires made it hard to see for very far. "You think..."

It was out of nowhere, literally that the Warwolf appeared, and she stared directly into its jaws as it roared at her, bringing its arm around to slash at where she would have been had she not instinctively pushed back into Marie-Ange, sending them both backwards onto the ground.

"Kill it!" she cried, trying to disentangle herself enough to get to her feet. "Fuckin' kill it!"

Marie-Ange's cards went flying, and she mentally cursed - this was why she didn't engage in close combat unless it became unavoidable. Despite hand to hand training - her powers were best used from a safe standpoint where she could concentrate.

And yet, despite the ungainly sprawl on the ground and the cards scattered around the two young women, a sword appeared in her hands. And then another, point down in the ground in front of her. And then another right between Jubilee's feet, and another to her left, and another piercing the Warwolf's left forelimb, and another through its back, and another pinning the paw of its injured limb to the ground. And then two more between the girls and the creature, and then one final sword, spiked through the demon's muzzle.

The Warwolf slashed with its free forelimb, catching Marie-Ange on the shin, rending her jeans and opening a gash in her leg. Scrablling backwards, she retreated, the limb already going numb. The swords piercing the Warwolf began to dissolve, and it pulled free, lunging at the pair once before shuddering, dying with a howl from the gaping wound in its spine.

~*~

Cornered, weakened, and outnumbered, Mark has no choice but to bring the house down. Literally.


Shit. Shit shit shit. The best laid plans often go mother-fucking astray. A gleaming clawed-paw swiped at Mark's face, and he was only saved a new nose by stepping back and tripping under his own feet. He fell to the floor with a pained grunt, and raised a golden-glowing hand instinctively to cover his face. The Warwolf leaped on top of him, and a well-placed blast of plasma launched it back into the air. What would have blasted a mortal into tiny vaguely mortal-shaped pieces of toast just knocked it a few yards away, and it was back on its feet in a second. It normally silver skin was dull and smoking where it had been hit.

Mark quickly pulled himself back to his feet and fired again, but the demon fell to all fours and charged to avoid it. The pew behind it exploded in a shower of dust and splinters. The odor of ozone was almost overpowering, and Mark had little doubt that a day-long bath (preferably with Jean-Phillipe) would only begin to eliminate the acrid smell.

He randomly fired another blast, but the charging demon jumped over it to pounce on and disembowel him. Its red eyes burned brightly, locked on his, as if burrowing their way into his soul. It seemed an eternity as the Warwolf reached the apex of its leap, and landed roughly on Mark. He cried out as claws ripped through his shirt, leaving four dark gashes beneath, the oozing blood soaking Gene Simmons' white face. The shock of the attack knocked him out of his sense, and the golden energy burst involuntarily from his hands, knocking the demon off him like a giant golden uppercut.

Whatever self-preservation Mark had left demanded that he get up and run the fuck away to somewhere safe. Like Idaho. Idaho doesn't have any fucking skin-stealing vengeance demons. Just potatoes and a close proximity to Canada, both of which he was a fan. Idaho potatoes to make Canadian poutine. Yum.

Mark took a couple of steps back to increase the distance between him and the melee, and to give him an opportunity to think. Across the sanctuary, Amanda furiously prepared her spell, Bishop keeping her safe from danger. Any minute now she'd be done, and the Warwolves would just disappear like they'd never been there at all. They just needed to hold out against the onslaught a little more. They could do it.

If only it didn't hurt so much to move or think. He coughed, and shouldn't have been surprised to be blood. His chest tingled, a combination of the blood injury and the poison from the demon's claws taking effect. He staggered, his vision swimming. He tried to right himself, but fell back down on his back.

It took him a second to realize that a heavy weight sat atop him to keep him pinned down. The Warwolf seemed almost gleeful as it looked down at its victim with large crimson eyes. It raised a paw to slash at his face, but a glowing hand grabbed its wrist just inches away. Mark grabbed its other wrist and focused, concentrating the burning energy through his fingers.

The Warwolf wailed and thrashed, trying to free itself from his grasp. Though the wild movements hurt, Mark held on the best he could. Amanda was almost done. He thought he could feel the energy gather, a mystical bat to knock the demons home. Just a little more and it would all be over.

But "a little more" wasn't enough. Mark was injured, weakening, and mortal. The Warwolf was not. It wrenched a paw out of his hold and thrust metallic claws into his hip, right at the site of his gun wound. Mark couldn't help it. He cried out loudly, not caring if he woke the whole damn borough. The gunshot was nothing compared to the sharp, piercing agony of poisoned daggers inside him.

Worse yet, he could feel the poison seeping into his blood and down his legs. Or rather, he couldn't feel his legs at all. He tried to kick the demon off him, but he could barely even left them. The Warwolf's expression changed as the hunter concluded that the prey was his, and it easily extricated its other hand from Mark, and paused for only a moment before swiping at Mark's eyes.

Time slowed. Beaten, bleeding, paralyzed on the cold ground, Mark could only watch as the Warwolf readied to slaughter him. And all he could hear, above the demon's victorious howls, was "SS-3."

And then he exploded. All the panic and fear flooded out of him in a thunderous blast of plasma. As the golden light dimmed, the air still rippling from residual heat, Mark saw through teary eyes that the demon lay burned to a crisp on top of him. Its claws held fast in his side.

And then he saw the walls of the church annihilated by his attack. Lord knows what maneuvering Emma would have to perform to make this look like someone else. He blinked when some dust fell in his eyes, and raised a weak hand to brush it away.

But with the walls gone, there was nothing to hold up the ceiling above him. It cracked and buckled unsupported, and Mark frantically tried to push the demon off him with one hand while the other blindly grabbed for his iPod.

St. Mark’s Church in-the-Bowery collapsed to the sounds of Slayer.

~*~

X-Force takes stock, and realizes that they’re coming up short.


Caught up in the spell, Amanda had barely noticed the combat around her, trusting in Bishop to protect her. The effort of forcing one type of magic into another path - the round peg in the square hole - was creating a huge sense of pressure in her head, and it was with relief she reached the final part of the spell, raising both hands in front of her and seeming to almost take two handfuls of thin air.

The explosion of golden light was almost a fatal distraction and she stumbled a little in her chant/rap. Rallying, she made a ripping motion with her hands, a tearing, and in front of the altar the air rippled, twisted, and opened. A blast of cold air erupted from the gash in reality and then reversed, the nearest Warwolf sucked abruptly in. The others followed, and Amanda allowed herself a weary, triumphant grin. They'd done it, the bastards were banished back to where they'd come and no-one else would have to die....

Then there was a groan of timber, a shower of plaster dust, and then a roar as the ceiling collapsed.

Bishop had been protecting Amanda, his only goal. In situations like this it was important to trust your team mates so you didn't have to split your attention and lose track of your own small part of the battle. He knew Amanda was doing exactly that and also knew he had to protect her. A split second before the explosion Bishop felt the energy coming, he knew it would be huge, and he knew he could survive the torrent but his charge would be totally unaware. The spell had just finished and so there were no reservations as Bishop dived toward Amanda, nearly tackling her out of the way, shielding her with his body. What a benefit it was then for him to be so large and her so small.

Amanda let out an involuntary squeak as Bishop dived at her - he was not a small man and the sight of so much mass heading her way was a bit intimidating. As the first timbers began falling, she managed to clap her hands together, bringing up the shielding spell over the two of them as he huddled over the top of her. Turn and turn about... was her thought as the ceiling came crashing down on top of them.

~

Emma really, really hated it when buildings fell on her. "What is it about X-Men and blowing up buildings?" she managed to get out before the wave of rubble engulfed her and she was buried beneath a reasonable proportion of the roof of St Mark In-The-Bowery. Stone, wood and tiles skittered across her diamond skin, and dust filled her diamond lungs as her feet were taken out from beneath her. The world became, for a short while, heat and smoke and dust and the sounds and sensation of impact.

"Damn," said Emma when sound and movement had ceased. "These boots were new." She looked around her and spotted the gleam of light from where the rubble was thinnest. Twisting her body carefully, she reached her hands down and shattered the rocks on her legs with a few well-aimed blows. Standing, she heaved upwards and emerged suddenly from beneath the rubble. She checked, running hands over her body, the somewhat tattered remains of her outfit, making sure that no part of her would be hurt when she turned back. It was only when she was sure she was safe that she rippled back into flesh.

She had seen the people moving around her, counting bodies as they helped each other up, checking for injuries. It was only when she was flesh again, though, that she could reach out with her mind, make the count that mattered. Fear ripped into her thoughts first, fear and pain, panic suppressed, disorientation and anger, but over all of it was efficiency and clear-mindedness, everyone checking for each other, for the team, that the Warwolves were really gone. Emma reached back out into the net she had made and counted thoughts.

There was a hole in the net.

Still coughing dust out of her lungs, Wanda looked up from where she was pulling Jubilee to her feet and did a quick head count. She frowned in concern and worry, turning to the others. "Where is Mark?" she asked roughly.

"Mark's gone," said Emma coldly. "He's not anywhere."

There was a noise of sliding rubble and the tell-tale glow of Amanda's shield appeared. "What do you mean, 'gone'?" she demanded as Bishop helped her to her feet, the shield popping like a soap bubble as her concentration was broken. "He can't be gone."

"Who was closest to him?" Jubilee asked, brushing concrete dust from her hair before giving Amanda a concerned look when she noticed the change in her voice. "Are you sure he's just not to far for you to hear?"

"I was," said Emma. "He blew the building down onto himself." She reached again, fruitlessly searching with her power. "His mind is gone. Mark's dead." She reached out further, noted the people outside running closer to the twisted remains of the church. "And so are we if we don't get out of here."

A figure emerged from the clouds of rubble, gray with dust. LeBeau wiped the blood from the front of his shirt, coughing from the dust. "Emma's right. Everybody, split up and get out. Mark went under wit' de explosion. If he's not dead, dere's nothing we can do for him at dis moment." The Cajun staggered, his odd blood chemistry fighting against the poison of the warwolves in his system. His red-eyed scrutiny was quick and thorough. "You, Bishop, oui? You and Jubilee look normal 'nough. Fade into de crowd, keep an eye out. If dey pull Mark out, alive or dead, we need to know."

Amanda seemed about to protest, but bit her lip, nodding. Remy was right. They couldn't all go down - that wouldn't help Mark if he was trapped and hurt under the rubble. Fatigue washed over her even as she considered volunteering to help gather information and she sagged, defeated - there wasn't much she could do without rest and sleep.

Wanda looked over her shoulder once, face pale and pinched, before any indecision faded. Mentally she was torn with disbelief - Mark seemed to have the luck of the devil at times, he couldn't be dead; but she'd seen the destruction and the fight had been brutal, it was a miracle they had that many still standing. That didn't make it any easier to believe or accept. She reached for Amanda and slid the younger woman's arm over her shoulders, propping her up as they started to make their way out. Her jaw was set. One way or another, they'd find out the truth and either they would patch him up...

Or there was going to be hell to pay.

~*~

Jubilee and Bishop double back to see what they can find amidst the destruction.


Jubilee slipped into the growing crowd in front of the church, trying to look like nothing more then another rubber necker interested in seeing what all the fuss was about. She glanced over at Bishop, and then craned her head up in order to look him in the face. What was it with guys always being taller then her anyway?

"What do you think happened?" she asked, tone curious with a touch of excitement. Hopefully starting up a random conversation would be enough to get some information out of the people around them.

"Looks like some sort of explosion." Bishop looked back down to the short woman, his voice curious as well. Most people didn't imagine but it was a pain to have to constantly look down at people so much shorter then him as well. He always resisted the urge to give them a boost up. With Jubilee he could too, she was tiny in comparison to him.

"Really? Wow." Jubilee replied, looking shocked, and then mentally telling herself not to lay it on too thick now, this wasn't an bad student street performance, after all. "Do you think there was anyone inside?"

Bishop made a show of looking around for any police officers, taking Jubilee's hand as he forced their way up front fairly easily. "If someone was inside we need to go get them. I bet they'd be hurt." He did his best panic, concern voice. Hell, people had helped in disasters before. Maybe they could get a look in even before the cops showed up. It would be easy for him to explain why he reacted if they could.

Jubilee allowed herself to be pulled along, but dragged her feet slightly, feigning a small reluctance to go with the persona she was building in her mind. "You sure it's not still dangerous? I mean...maybe we should wait for the authorities?"

"You can, I'm not. I'm not waiting around while people die." Bishop's acting was very authentic, either that or not acting at all. He started pointing larger people out of the audience, calling them over to help him. He had kept a charge to help move the rubble while not pushing it overboard so that he was clearly a mutant. He figured the police had definitely been called so there wasn't a need to bother with that.

"Fine, Mr Hero. Let's get on with it then." Jubilee replied, exasperation evident as she watched the crowd move in to help with the rubble. "Just, don't strain something. I'm so not carrying your ass home."

She wasn't exactly built to move rubble and there was no way she'd be able to use her powers without drawing way too much notice from the locals. Still, she could stick close to Bishop and bring back information to the others on whether Mark had gotten out or not. She hoped he was okay, best case scenario was that he'd gone in a different direction then the rest of them and would be waiting for them when they got back. Worst case...she didn't want to think worst case right now.

It was Bishop's hope that Jubilee would be the eyes while he moved the rubble with help from some of the crowd. She seemed to pick that up herself so that helped avoid him having to say something about it. Instead he simply focused on trying to dig out the most likely places to find Mark while looking as though he were just looking at random. In truth he knew no one else was inside.

Jubilee for her part was watching the crowd as they dug into the rubble as well as Bishop's efforts, trying to see any evidence of Mark, whether it was that he'd gotten away, or came out of the rubble harmed but relatively whole. She wasn't going to allow herself to think of the other alternative just yet, it was too soon for that.