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xp_logsCatseye and Pinball have their hands full with an unhappy Jean-Phillipe.
Their fellow rescuers were already approaching the captured group, attempting to get them to return home, but it didn't look like any of the people they'd come to save wanted to leave. People were starting to fight. Catseye was standing next to Johnny, both of them taking in what was going on. Catseye, transforming into her BigCat form, cocked her head towards Johnny and gestured with her tail towards Jean-Phillipe. The Frenchman looked scary here, not his usual self. And he looked like he was about to jump into the fight to help Angelo against Angel, but Catseye figured they shouldn't let that happen. She took a wary step towards Jean-Phillipe, hoping maybe he'd deviate from what the others were doing and just be happy to go home with the rescuers. But she could feel the static electricity immediately, her lovely lavender fur standing on end. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and she chuffed out a low sound in her throat to vocalize that thought and use it as a warning to Johnny.
Johnny nodded to her and moved around to the side, shadowing Jean-Phillipe. This was horrible, this idea of having to try to take down a friend and all. His hair was standing on end from the static electricity, which meant that tackling him? Yeah, that was going to be a terrible plan, no matter how much insulation was built into his boots. Johnny yelled to get the man's attention and then stooped to pick up a stone which he hurled at Jean-Phillipe. "Over here, Stinky!"
Stinky. That was really the best that could be done? And a rock to the head?
At the best of times, Jean-Phillipe's temper tended to be...lightning quick, but the hellish influence of their captivity had honed it to an even finer edge. And so a rock and a fairly weak insult was all it took to make him snap. His habitual gestures in the use of his power were normally more flowing and showy, flicks of the wrist and so on. But there was no room for showmanship in him, just rage.
His hands curled into something more like claws, the actinic white of electricity pooling between his palms and fingers before one arm shot out, almost punching the energy toward Johnny, followed closely by his other hand sending a bolt towards Catseye.
The catgirl leaped to the side when she saw the arm thrust in her direction, hurling a lightning bolt at her. The air pressure changed as the bolt singed the ground where she'd been creeping towards Jean-Phillipe and she felt the crackle of the electricity through the pads of her paws. Immediately BigCat's instinct was to run, to flee the storm it sensed was coming. Catseye struggled to quash the animal instinct, to reason with the beast inside while still focusing on her mission, but it was costing her concentration she could ill afford to lose.
Johnny sucked in a deep breath and danced out of the way of the energy bolt coming at him, warned a moment earlier by his danger sense. "Come on, Cheeseguts! That's the best you've got? My grandma could do better and she's been dead for twenty years!"
Keep him angry. Keep him distracted. Johnny threw another rock.
The dodging and back-and-forth of trying to concentrate on one of the two, only to be distracted again by the other, was rapidly fraying even the tiny bit of rein Jean-Phillipe had on his anger. "Arretez-vous, merdeux!" he yelled, pivoting in place and blasting even harder with his power, multiple bolts leaping off of him to strike more or less at random. Saturate the area with enough electricity, and even the hopscotching little jerk couldn't avoid it all...
One of the bolts struck the distracted Catseye before she could dodge it and she fell in a heap onto her side, unable to move as the shock wave of the grounding shorted out her system. As more bolts fell around her the electricity crackled in the air and through the ground. There was nowhere to run from it, even if she could run. Her healing factor set to work repairing the electrocution damage and the strike had snapped her out of her mental dichotomy and brought her animal nature on side with the human. Rather than wanting to flee, the BigCat now wanted blood. It wanted to tear the attacker's throat out for causing this pain. Catseye struggled to rein in the rage, but it was incredibly strong, and she felt herself losing control of it. While her healing factor continued to work, the enraged feline stewed, anxious to rejoin the fight. She barely noticed when her form began to change, beyond what the healing factor was repairing. Her size was increasing, along with her mass. Her canines were elongating, curling. What the hell was going on? When her jaw worked again she let out a massive roar, and it was deeper and more guttural than any sound she'd ever produced before.
Holy crap cakes! Johnny stared at Catseye and at the giant freaking sabre toothed tiger which stood where the cat should have been. He was closer to the portal than he had been. "Come on," he said pleadingly, looking small and fragile against the landscape, dust turning his hair a dull gray. "You don't want to deal with her. Just come home, and it'll all be okay."
Home. The word tickled at something in Jean-Phillipe's head. He tried to remember...where was home? It seemed strangely hazy in his mind, like he could almost think, but not quite. He panted, bending over slightly at the waist. The reckless use of his power at high capacity was taking its toll on the Frenchman's body. He was far outpacing the ability of his system to create more electricity. He flexed his fingers, a tingling sensation spreading though them.
The SabreCat saw the fingers of her attacker flex, and she let out another roar. She had to stop him before he let loose with any more of that lightning! Without thinking further on the subject, she leaped at Jean-Phillipe, throwing hundreds of pounds of muscle at him. Except she didn't calculate her angle to avoid the X-Men colleague standing behind Jean-Phillipe in order to keep him distracted. Uh oh! The realization that Johnny was about to get knocked through the portal with Jean-Phillipe rebooted her human control over the beast form and she let out a warning meep, hoping he could get out of the way in time.
Johnny's danger sense had warned him just barely early enough to ensure that he could dive out of the big cat's way. One claw raked against his leathers but he was clear.
Hundreds of pounds of purple cat knocked Jean-Phillipe clean off of his feet, and sent him tumbling ungracefully through the portal. The impact, and then the pursuant impact of his head against the ground, left him unconscious and out of the fight, safely sent home.
A transformed Fred makes things difficult for Cannonball and Nevermore.
There had been little left of what was Fred Dukes, by the time rescue showed up. Limbo had pulled his baser impulses to the surface, and buried nearly everything else. And there was something darker sitting on top now. Something not entirely human...
Fred roared out something, but it was almost unintelligible. The words "EAT YOUR CORPSE" were definitely somewhere in there. Fred rushed forward, lifting a larger demon that was between him and the newly arrived mutants, ripping it in two and tossing it aside as he reached his massive, fatty fingers towards the blonde one at the front of the group.
Unintelligible or not, the actions with which Fred followed his words left his intentions unmistakable. Grimacing, Sam ran towards him, leaping after he was a few steps away from the rest of the group and blasting off towards him. He knew Fred's power set and his plan was to strike him hard enough to knock him down or out altogether, hopefully, taking him out of combat, so he aimed himself toward Fred with just enough momentum to accomplish that.
What he hadn't counted on was being unable to budge Fred even in the slightest. Sam was pushing against him but neither of them moved, his forcefield pushing against the other mutant but not having any impact on him.
Fred grunted as the explosive Kentuckian slammed into him, making a sickening sound as the airborne mutant hit the folds of thick skin hanging off Dukes.. Then there was a massive, gurgling laugh as the flabby mountain of Fred Dukes pushed back against Sam one...two...three steps back. It turned into a rolling chuckle, as Fred rumbled out loud enough to be heard over Sam's blast field. "GNNA GETCHA, GUTHREE. GON EAT YU..."
"Dammit, come on now." Thankful that at least his forcefield was still functioning as expected - he hoped anyway - Sam pushed even harder against Fred, increasing his powers as hard as he could.
He grunted and gritted his teeth at the effort, expending all of his energy, which only resulted in halting his backward motion. They were at a veritable standstill, it appeared.
"Samuel! That is ineffective." Korvus called out as he stepped forward, drawing the huge blade from his back. "The cat will chase the mouse." Fred didn't seem to be fully aware and Korvus had hopes that would make up for his inability to pin down English idioms. If Fred wasn't harmed by a sustained explosion, it was unlikely a blade would do any damage and, even if it could, no one would want it to. They would have to outsmart their opponent.
"Startin' to see that, yeah." Sam muttered. While Korvus's idiom was a tad confusing to him as well, he was able to divine the younger man's intent and shifted his angle of attack, still blasting but changing his direction and heading off to the left of Fred, hoping to make his attacker pursue him.
Fred growled as Sam's new vector took him out of his reach. Fred saw Korvus move out of his sight, and thought about changing his meal...but no. Guthrie was who he wanted. Shouting, "GUTHREE! GET BACH HERE!" Dukes hefted one of the halved pieces of the demon still near his feet and threw it towards the flying mutant, followed quickly by the other half. Sam's blast field made him an easy target to aim for, but hitting him? Not as easy...
His superior agility and maneuverability were often all Sam had to his advantage, and he was using it to the best of his ability against Fred. Ducking under the trajectory of the first half, Sam veered hard to one side and then back up over the second half before pulling into a tight loop and heading back towards Fred. "Gonna have to try better than that, big guy. Come on now, three for a dollar!" He juked left and right as he screamed towards his target, hoping to distract him long enough for Korvus' benefit.
Once Sam had pulled Fred along, getting him to run in a straight line that was easy to track, Korvus braced himself. His right hand gripped the haft of Nandaki, his left pressed to the flat of the blade, and the Rook'shir tilted his head forward as he tried to focus. His lack of experience was apparent but Korvus managed to coerce a powerful, if loud and rough, burst of blue energy to blast Fred while he focused on his target.
Fred lurched forward and clutched his head, bellowing like a wounded animal. A larger wounded animal. A large, otherworldly wounded animal. There was something...something in his head. Like a sharp, blue fuzz. It made his eyes hurt and his mouth dry and his forehead tingle. He was going to kill that other one, when his head cleared, and his ears stopped ringing...
...wait, kill Korvus? Why would he do that? The guy could be kind of stuffy, but he was alright...what was he doing? Fred groaned as he stumbled from side to side, clutching his head. The world wouldn't stop spinning, and he could feel his heart beat in his throat and his pulse throb in his ears....
Thanks to Korvus' intervention, Sam was able to follow through with his fight pattern, the path of which resulted in what was essentially a football tackle to Fred intended to knock him down and back through the portal. He looped back around to watch his target's trajectory, making sure he went through, then nodding in satisfaction once he did.
"That went well, good job." said Sam, giving Korvus a little salute.
Firestar tries to reason with Callisto and when she fails, Blink has to bring out the big guns.
Until now, she'd been a lithe shadow on the periphery - darting around the edges, always out of the corner of the eye as the 'good guys' fought the good fight, doing their damnedest to subdue the abducted mutants without hurting them too badly. The demons seemed to be drawing the bulk of Callisto's ire, much to the relief of anyone who saw the state of the corpses she was leaving behind.
Angel got a closer view than she would ideally have wanted of this when a particularly broad-set beast came charging toward her from the fray, stopping short suddenly only for an arm to explode through the front of its chest from behind. As it fell forward and Angel was spattered with its foul black ichor, Callisto hove into view standing behind it.
Callisto was always skinny, but somehow now she looked almost skeletal - taller, it seemed, too, narrow shoulders hunched, chest hollow. Her arms were bare, sleeves long since discarded, and at first Angel thought they must have been horribly cut up in the battle somehow before she registered how even and symmetrical the cuts were, spiralling and twisting around the older woman's thin limbs like dark red vines, partially healed here and there as her skin knitted itself back together leaving smooth pink lines behind that would themselves fade soon enough. Her face had been cut open as well, though this recently and accidentally, it looked like, coincidentally right across her right eye where she already bore a scar.
Her eyes registered recognition, and for a split second it seemed it might just be that simple. Then her hands bunched into fists where they hung at her sides, blood dripping from one where it had just punched through the demon.
"Go home, kid," she said, her voice harsh from lack of use. "You don't belong here."
After getting Angelo through the portal, Angel had taken off into the air, weaving in and out and seeing where she was needed, finally landing and trying to get the demons' attention off her allies. Which was good because it worked, to a degree. And bad because it worked. Not that Angel couldn't keep up - but three against one weren't exactly the best odds for the firestarter.
Especially when, just as she dropped those three, another one came bounding at her from behind. She turned halfway - just in time to see the arm go through it, spraying her in the black blood. She took a step back, wiping her face as the demon dropped, revealing her "savior."
At Callisto's words she straightened up, fingers curling and uncurling as she took another step back. Callisto was talking - that was a good thing. It was a step better than Angelo. But she wasn't stupid enough to think the talking would last.
"You don't belong here either," she said firmly. She'd really rather this one end peacefully - Callisto wouldn't be nearly as easy to beat as Angelo - but she wouldn't hold her breath either. "And you'll know that once we get you home."
A wry smile twisted Callisto's face, reopening the cut that slashed across it and dripping dark blood from her too-sharp jawline. She shook her head. "That's where you're wrong, firecracker. I've never belonged there. Callisto, she fixes your car. Callisto, she teaches kids to defend themselves. Callisto, she wants to help the homeless mutant freak kids. She was a big-shot once, y'know, a leader. Look at her now, feasting on scraps." Callisto shook her head. "I'm better off here. Here at least I can despair in peace without well-meaning attempts to 'help'." As if from nowhere, a long, serrated knife was in her bloody hand now, and she took a step closer to Angel. "Don't make me hurt you."
Angel took a step back as Callisto stepped closer, eyes flitting to the knife for a moment. Where had that come from? "I'd really rather you didn't hurt me, no lie," she said as casually as she could, the air around her heating up as she prepared for the moment when she'd have to take flight. "But nobody gets left behind either. It's kind of a thing." As she spoke, small bits of flames sparked to life around her fingers.
Callisto's expression shifted, just slightly - she wasn't much more expressive now than she'd ever been, but her brows drew together, just a little. "I will cut your beautiful face open," she warned matter-of-factly. "Do you want to be like me? Ugly outside and in?" Callisto reached out with her unarmed hand to hold it above Angel's flames, fingers playing across them like they were a tea-light in a bar.
"Again, I'd rather you didn't," Angel replied after a brief moment. "It sounds painful." But if that was Callisto's way of trying to scare her off, she was out of luck there. Angel was stubborn - she wasn't going to leave anyone behind. Even if it was someone who thought they deserved to be there. She took another step away from Callisto, out of her reach. She wanted as much space between them as possible right then. It seemed safer.
Callisto nodded slowly. "It will be," she said, surging forward suddenly. From her words one might think she'd made up her mind, but her actions belied them - she was neither as fast nor as decisive as Angel had seen her, as evidenced by the fact she didn't already have a knife in her. That being said, there was no question that Callisto could and would cut her open - she had to think fast.
Angel knew the fact that she had time to take off into the air - narrowly avoiding the knife - was a gift, so to speak, and not one that should be wasted. She landed a few feet behind Callisto, hands already out, flames burning to life. She had no idea if this would actually work, but a little improvising never hurt anyone, right?
The flames shot off her hands, engulfing Callisto. A roar went up from the tall woman as she turned to face her attacker. Her clothes and hair were already burning away, and she dropped to her knees and for a split second it looked as though that was it, that was enough, but then she was on her feet again, knife still in hand - probably fused to it now, and she was running forward right into the flames, unrecognisable, barely human as she took a running jump up toward Angel, arm flying out to backhand her violently out of the air. As the flames died down, it was as though Callisto didn't even exist any more, a scrawny red demon left in her place, blackened patches of burned clothing and skin falling from her as she turned and headed toward Angel, presumably to finish the job.
This time Angel wasn't quick enough.
She barely had time react as she was struck dead-on, concentration broken, and the heat died away. She flew back from the force of the blow, and with nothing left to keep her in the air she dropped, hitting the ground hard.
It only took a few seconds for shock and adrenalin to wear off.
Pain burned through her chest and right arm as she tried to move, broken bones grinding together. Her head was swimming and aching something fierce, vision blurred as she tried to look around without moving the rest of her body, attempting to figure out where Callisto was - and if anyone was close enough to keep the crazed woman from killing her.
"Not how you treat your friends, Cal!" Clarice snapped, barely spending a moment to check Angel. She was breathing. That was a good start. Grabbing some rocks from the ground, she dropped them in a portal, letting them fall forever between two. She knew she was toast if she got too close to Callisto, her hand-to-hand wasn't terrible, but she was no match for the other woman even on her best days. "You don't have to accept scraps! You can come back and be friendly and social and make friends and things! You don't have to stay hidden in the shadows!" Baiting her was probably a bad idea, but she needed time for the rocks to gain momentum.
Callisto seemed to have ignored Clarice altogether, advancing purposefully on Angel's prone form in long strides, seeming almost taller and more spindly than ever in this new, burned form.
Ignorance was not bliss, especially when it involved a battle. Wasn't that was Callisto taught? Always be aware of your surroundings and people? Oops. Releasing the rocks, they bombarded Callisto like bullets, an especially large one hitting her in the back with an audible crack. Oh shit. That could NOT be good. "Callisto!" Clarice was over there in an instant, torn between keeping the woman down and making sure she hadn't accidentally done any lasting damage. The smell of burned flesh and clothes was worse closer up, the heat radiating from Callisto's body as it bent backward on itself, her lower half collapsing beneath her, legs folding under her like a marionette with the strings cut. By the time Clarice reached her this last assault on her body seemed to have been the final toll: Callisto was finally unconscious, eyes staring sightlessly out of their hollowed, charred sockets.
Everyone was breathing. Good start. Hoisting Firestar onto her shoulders in a fireman's carry, Clarice brought her over by Callisto since she had much greater injuries and she was loathe to risk further by moving her. Clarice had seen more human-looking corpses than the charred husk of Callisto. The thing was, with her healing factor she could well survive this.
"Well," Clarice shook her head, swallowing bile. Just because Callisto could survive this did not mean that there was no effect on anyone. Teleporting them all back to the mansion, Clarice was exhausted. That was more weight than she could teleport easily and the energy drain was something noticeable. The work wasn't done yet.
Their fellow rescuers were already approaching the captured group, attempting to get them to return home, but it didn't look like any of the people they'd come to save wanted to leave. People were starting to fight. Catseye was standing next to Johnny, both of them taking in what was going on. Catseye, transforming into her BigCat form, cocked her head towards Johnny and gestured with her tail towards Jean-Phillipe. The Frenchman looked scary here, not his usual self. And he looked like he was about to jump into the fight to help Angelo against Angel, but Catseye figured they shouldn't let that happen. She took a wary step towards Jean-Phillipe, hoping maybe he'd deviate from what the others were doing and just be happy to go home with the rescuers. But she could feel the static electricity immediately, her lovely lavender fur standing on end. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and she chuffed out a low sound in her throat to vocalize that thought and use it as a warning to Johnny.
Johnny nodded to her and moved around to the side, shadowing Jean-Phillipe. This was horrible, this idea of having to try to take down a friend and all. His hair was standing on end from the static electricity, which meant that tackling him? Yeah, that was going to be a terrible plan, no matter how much insulation was built into his boots. Johnny yelled to get the man's attention and then stooped to pick up a stone which he hurled at Jean-Phillipe. "Over here, Stinky!"
Stinky. That was really the best that could be done? And a rock to the head?
At the best of times, Jean-Phillipe's temper tended to be...lightning quick, but the hellish influence of their captivity had honed it to an even finer edge. And so a rock and a fairly weak insult was all it took to make him snap. His habitual gestures in the use of his power were normally more flowing and showy, flicks of the wrist and so on. But there was no room for showmanship in him, just rage.
His hands curled into something more like claws, the actinic white of electricity pooling between his palms and fingers before one arm shot out, almost punching the energy toward Johnny, followed closely by his other hand sending a bolt towards Catseye.
The catgirl leaped to the side when she saw the arm thrust in her direction, hurling a lightning bolt at her. The air pressure changed as the bolt singed the ground where she'd been creeping towards Jean-Phillipe and she felt the crackle of the electricity through the pads of her paws. Immediately BigCat's instinct was to run, to flee the storm it sensed was coming. Catseye struggled to quash the animal instinct, to reason with the beast inside while still focusing on her mission, but it was costing her concentration she could ill afford to lose.
Johnny sucked in a deep breath and danced out of the way of the energy bolt coming at him, warned a moment earlier by his danger sense. "Come on, Cheeseguts! That's the best you've got? My grandma could do better and she's been dead for twenty years!"
Keep him angry. Keep him distracted. Johnny threw another rock.
The dodging and back-and-forth of trying to concentrate on one of the two, only to be distracted again by the other, was rapidly fraying even the tiny bit of rein Jean-Phillipe had on his anger. "Arretez-vous, merdeux!" he yelled, pivoting in place and blasting even harder with his power, multiple bolts leaping off of him to strike more or less at random. Saturate the area with enough electricity, and even the hopscotching little jerk couldn't avoid it all...
One of the bolts struck the distracted Catseye before she could dodge it and she fell in a heap onto her side, unable to move as the shock wave of the grounding shorted out her system. As more bolts fell around her the electricity crackled in the air and through the ground. There was nowhere to run from it, even if she could run. Her healing factor set to work repairing the electrocution damage and the strike had snapped her out of her mental dichotomy and brought her animal nature on side with the human. Rather than wanting to flee, the BigCat now wanted blood. It wanted to tear the attacker's throat out for causing this pain. Catseye struggled to rein in the rage, but it was incredibly strong, and she felt herself losing control of it. While her healing factor continued to work, the enraged feline stewed, anxious to rejoin the fight. She barely noticed when her form began to change, beyond what the healing factor was repairing. Her size was increasing, along with her mass. Her canines were elongating, curling. What the hell was going on? When her jaw worked again she let out a massive roar, and it was deeper and more guttural than any sound she'd ever produced before.
Holy crap cakes! Johnny stared at Catseye and at the giant freaking sabre toothed tiger which stood where the cat should have been. He was closer to the portal than he had been. "Come on," he said pleadingly, looking small and fragile against the landscape, dust turning his hair a dull gray. "You don't want to deal with her. Just come home, and it'll all be okay."
Home. The word tickled at something in Jean-Phillipe's head. He tried to remember...where was home? It seemed strangely hazy in his mind, like he could almost think, but not quite. He panted, bending over slightly at the waist. The reckless use of his power at high capacity was taking its toll on the Frenchman's body. He was far outpacing the ability of his system to create more electricity. He flexed his fingers, a tingling sensation spreading though them.
The SabreCat saw the fingers of her attacker flex, and she let out another roar. She had to stop him before he let loose with any more of that lightning! Without thinking further on the subject, she leaped at Jean-Phillipe, throwing hundreds of pounds of muscle at him. Except she didn't calculate her angle to avoid the X-Men colleague standing behind Jean-Phillipe in order to keep him distracted. Uh oh! The realization that Johnny was about to get knocked through the portal with Jean-Phillipe rebooted her human control over the beast form and she let out a warning meep, hoping he could get out of the way in time.
Johnny's danger sense had warned him just barely early enough to ensure that he could dive out of the big cat's way. One claw raked against his leathers but he was clear.
Hundreds of pounds of purple cat knocked Jean-Phillipe clean off of his feet, and sent him tumbling ungracefully through the portal. The impact, and then the pursuant impact of his head against the ground, left him unconscious and out of the fight, safely sent home.
A transformed Fred makes things difficult for Cannonball and Nevermore.
There had been little left of what was Fred Dukes, by the time rescue showed up. Limbo had pulled his baser impulses to the surface, and buried nearly everything else. And there was something darker sitting on top now. Something not entirely human...
Fred roared out something, but it was almost unintelligible. The words "EAT YOUR CORPSE" were definitely somewhere in there. Fred rushed forward, lifting a larger demon that was between him and the newly arrived mutants, ripping it in two and tossing it aside as he reached his massive, fatty fingers towards the blonde one at the front of the group.
Unintelligible or not, the actions with which Fred followed his words left his intentions unmistakable. Grimacing, Sam ran towards him, leaping after he was a few steps away from the rest of the group and blasting off towards him. He knew Fred's power set and his plan was to strike him hard enough to knock him down or out altogether, hopefully, taking him out of combat, so he aimed himself toward Fred with just enough momentum to accomplish that.
What he hadn't counted on was being unable to budge Fred even in the slightest. Sam was pushing against him but neither of them moved, his forcefield pushing against the other mutant but not having any impact on him.
Fred grunted as the explosive Kentuckian slammed into him, making a sickening sound as the airborne mutant hit the folds of thick skin hanging off Dukes.. Then there was a massive, gurgling laugh as the flabby mountain of Fred Dukes pushed back against Sam one...two...three steps back. It turned into a rolling chuckle, as Fred rumbled out loud enough to be heard over Sam's blast field. "GNNA GETCHA, GUTHREE. GON EAT YU..."
"Dammit, come on now." Thankful that at least his forcefield was still functioning as expected - he hoped anyway - Sam pushed even harder against Fred, increasing his powers as hard as he could.
He grunted and gritted his teeth at the effort, expending all of his energy, which only resulted in halting his backward motion. They were at a veritable standstill, it appeared.
"Samuel! That is ineffective." Korvus called out as he stepped forward, drawing the huge blade from his back. "The cat will chase the mouse." Fred didn't seem to be fully aware and Korvus had hopes that would make up for his inability to pin down English idioms. If Fred wasn't harmed by a sustained explosion, it was unlikely a blade would do any damage and, even if it could, no one would want it to. They would have to outsmart their opponent.
"Startin' to see that, yeah." Sam muttered. While Korvus's idiom was a tad confusing to him as well, he was able to divine the younger man's intent and shifted his angle of attack, still blasting but changing his direction and heading off to the left of Fred, hoping to make his attacker pursue him.
Fred growled as Sam's new vector took him out of his reach. Fred saw Korvus move out of his sight, and thought about changing his meal...but no. Guthrie was who he wanted. Shouting, "GUTHREE! GET BACH HERE!" Dukes hefted one of the halved pieces of the demon still near his feet and threw it towards the flying mutant, followed quickly by the other half. Sam's blast field made him an easy target to aim for, but hitting him? Not as easy...
His superior agility and maneuverability were often all Sam had to his advantage, and he was using it to the best of his ability against Fred. Ducking under the trajectory of the first half, Sam veered hard to one side and then back up over the second half before pulling into a tight loop and heading back towards Fred. "Gonna have to try better than that, big guy. Come on now, three for a dollar!" He juked left and right as he screamed towards his target, hoping to distract him long enough for Korvus' benefit.
Once Sam had pulled Fred along, getting him to run in a straight line that was easy to track, Korvus braced himself. His right hand gripped the haft of Nandaki, his left pressed to the flat of the blade, and the Rook'shir tilted his head forward as he tried to focus. His lack of experience was apparent but Korvus managed to coerce a powerful, if loud and rough, burst of blue energy to blast Fred while he focused on his target.
Fred lurched forward and clutched his head, bellowing like a wounded animal. A larger wounded animal. A large, otherworldly wounded animal. There was something...something in his head. Like a sharp, blue fuzz. It made his eyes hurt and his mouth dry and his forehead tingle. He was going to kill that other one, when his head cleared, and his ears stopped ringing...
...wait, kill Korvus? Why would he do that? The guy could be kind of stuffy, but he was alright...what was he doing? Fred groaned as he stumbled from side to side, clutching his head. The world wouldn't stop spinning, and he could feel his heart beat in his throat and his pulse throb in his ears....
Thanks to Korvus' intervention, Sam was able to follow through with his fight pattern, the path of which resulted in what was essentially a football tackle to Fred intended to knock him down and back through the portal. He looped back around to watch his target's trajectory, making sure he went through, then nodding in satisfaction once he did.
"That went well, good job." said Sam, giving Korvus a little salute.
Firestar tries to reason with Callisto and when she fails, Blink has to bring out the big guns.
Until now, she'd been a lithe shadow on the periphery - darting around the edges, always out of the corner of the eye as the 'good guys' fought the good fight, doing their damnedest to subdue the abducted mutants without hurting them too badly. The demons seemed to be drawing the bulk of Callisto's ire, much to the relief of anyone who saw the state of the corpses she was leaving behind.
Angel got a closer view than she would ideally have wanted of this when a particularly broad-set beast came charging toward her from the fray, stopping short suddenly only for an arm to explode through the front of its chest from behind. As it fell forward and Angel was spattered with its foul black ichor, Callisto hove into view standing behind it.
Callisto was always skinny, but somehow now she looked almost skeletal - taller, it seemed, too, narrow shoulders hunched, chest hollow. Her arms were bare, sleeves long since discarded, and at first Angel thought they must have been horribly cut up in the battle somehow before she registered how even and symmetrical the cuts were, spiralling and twisting around the older woman's thin limbs like dark red vines, partially healed here and there as her skin knitted itself back together leaving smooth pink lines behind that would themselves fade soon enough. Her face had been cut open as well, though this recently and accidentally, it looked like, coincidentally right across her right eye where she already bore a scar.
Her eyes registered recognition, and for a split second it seemed it might just be that simple. Then her hands bunched into fists where they hung at her sides, blood dripping from one where it had just punched through the demon.
"Go home, kid," she said, her voice harsh from lack of use. "You don't belong here."
After getting Angelo through the portal, Angel had taken off into the air, weaving in and out and seeing where she was needed, finally landing and trying to get the demons' attention off her allies. Which was good because it worked, to a degree. And bad because it worked. Not that Angel couldn't keep up - but three against one weren't exactly the best odds for the firestarter.
Especially when, just as she dropped those three, another one came bounding at her from behind. She turned halfway - just in time to see the arm go through it, spraying her in the black blood. She took a step back, wiping her face as the demon dropped, revealing her "savior."
At Callisto's words she straightened up, fingers curling and uncurling as she took another step back. Callisto was talking - that was a good thing. It was a step better than Angelo. But she wasn't stupid enough to think the talking would last.
"You don't belong here either," she said firmly. She'd really rather this one end peacefully - Callisto wouldn't be nearly as easy to beat as Angelo - but she wouldn't hold her breath either. "And you'll know that once we get you home."
A wry smile twisted Callisto's face, reopening the cut that slashed across it and dripping dark blood from her too-sharp jawline. She shook her head. "That's where you're wrong, firecracker. I've never belonged there. Callisto, she fixes your car. Callisto, she teaches kids to defend themselves. Callisto, she wants to help the homeless mutant freak kids. She was a big-shot once, y'know, a leader. Look at her now, feasting on scraps." Callisto shook her head. "I'm better off here. Here at least I can despair in peace without well-meaning attempts to 'help'." As if from nowhere, a long, serrated knife was in her bloody hand now, and she took a step closer to Angel. "Don't make me hurt you."
Angel took a step back as Callisto stepped closer, eyes flitting to the knife for a moment. Where had that come from? "I'd really rather you didn't hurt me, no lie," she said as casually as she could, the air around her heating up as she prepared for the moment when she'd have to take flight. "But nobody gets left behind either. It's kind of a thing." As she spoke, small bits of flames sparked to life around her fingers.
Callisto's expression shifted, just slightly - she wasn't much more expressive now than she'd ever been, but her brows drew together, just a little. "I will cut your beautiful face open," she warned matter-of-factly. "Do you want to be like me? Ugly outside and in?" Callisto reached out with her unarmed hand to hold it above Angel's flames, fingers playing across them like they were a tea-light in a bar.
"Again, I'd rather you didn't," Angel replied after a brief moment. "It sounds painful." But if that was Callisto's way of trying to scare her off, she was out of luck there. Angel was stubborn - she wasn't going to leave anyone behind. Even if it was someone who thought they deserved to be there. She took another step away from Callisto, out of her reach. She wanted as much space between them as possible right then. It seemed safer.
Callisto nodded slowly. "It will be," she said, surging forward suddenly. From her words one might think she'd made up her mind, but her actions belied them - she was neither as fast nor as decisive as Angel had seen her, as evidenced by the fact she didn't already have a knife in her. That being said, there was no question that Callisto could and would cut her open - she had to think fast.
Angel knew the fact that she had time to take off into the air - narrowly avoiding the knife - was a gift, so to speak, and not one that should be wasted. She landed a few feet behind Callisto, hands already out, flames burning to life. She had no idea if this would actually work, but a little improvising never hurt anyone, right?
The flames shot off her hands, engulfing Callisto. A roar went up from the tall woman as she turned to face her attacker. Her clothes and hair were already burning away, and she dropped to her knees and for a split second it looked as though that was it, that was enough, but then she was on her feet again, knife still in hand - probably fused to it now, and she was running forward right into the flames, unrecognisable, barely human as she took a running jump up toward Angel, arm flying out to backhand her violently out of the air. As the flames died down, it was as though Callisto didn't even exist any more, a scrawny red demon left in her place, blackened patches of burned clothing and skin falling from her as she turned and headed toward Angel, presumably to finish the job.
This time Angel wasn't quick enough.
She barely had time react as she was struck dead-on, concentration broken, and the heat died away. She flew back from the force of the blow, and with nothing left to keep her in the air she dropped, hitting the ground hard.
It only took a few seconds for shock and adrenalin to wear off.
Pain burned through her chest and right arm as she tried to move, broken bones grinding together. Her head was swimming and aching something fierce, vision blurred as she tried to look around without moving the rest of her body, attempting to figure out where Callisto was - and if anyone was close enough to keep the crazed woman from killing her.
"Not how you treat your friends, Cal!" Clarice snapped, barely spending a moment to check Angel. She was breathing. That was a good start. Grabbing some rocks from the ground, she dropped them in a portal, letting them fall forever between two. She knew she was toast if she got too close to Callisto, her hand-to-hand wasn't terrible, but she was no match for the other woman even on her best days. "You don't have to accept scraps! You can come back and be friendly and social and make friends and things! You don't have to stay hidden in the shadows!" Baiting her was probably a bad idea, but she needed time for the rocks to gain momentum.
Callisto seemed to have ignored Clarice altogether, advancing purposefully on Angel's prone form in long strides, seeming almost taller and more spindly than ever in this new, burned form.
Ignorance was not bliss, especially when it involved a battle. Wasn't that was Callisto taught? Always be aware of your surroundings and people? Oops. Releasing the rocks, they bombarded Callisto like bullets, an especially large one hitting her in the back with an audible crack. Oh shit. That could NOT be good. "Callisto!" Clarice was over there in an instant, torn between keeping the woman down and making sure she hadn't accidentally done any lasting damage. The smell of burned flesh and clothes was worse closer up, the heat radiating from Callisto's body as it bent backward on itself, her lower half collapsing beneath her, legs folding under her like a marionette with the strings cut. By the time Clarice reached her this last assault on her body seemed to have been the final toll: Callisto was finally unconscious, eyes staring sightlessly out of their hollowed, charred sockets.
Everyone was breathing. Good start. Hoisting Firestar onto her shoulders in a fireman's carry, Clarice brought her over by Callisto since she had much greater injuries and she was loathe to risk further by moving her. Clarice had seen more human-looking corpses than the charred husk of Callisto. The thing was, with her healing factor she could well survive this.
"Well," Clarice shook her head, swallowing bile. Just because Callisto could survive this did not mean that there was no effect on anyone. Teleporting them all back to the mansion, Clarice was exhausted. That was more weight than she could teleport easily and the energy drain was something noticeable. The work wasn't done yet.
