[identity profile] x-cyclops.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] xp_logs
Following reports over the region's 911 dispatch that were brought to Professor Xavier attention and a few phone calls, the Red X participants, along with a few X-Men and various other students, race out to Stonewall Farm. An electrical fire and an explosion at the huge horse breeding farm of Barry Schwartz is endangering the lives an of hundreds of horses, including a number of new foals. The team works to assist workers, neighbors, and firefighters to protect the animals and control the blaze. [Two parts]


"Mr Schwartz?" Scott caught up with an older man leading a blindfolded pair of mares upwind of of the fire. Scott reached out and took the lead rope of one mare and the man let go, giving him a grateful nod.

"The same. You'd better not be a reporter." The grey-haired man's voice was rough with smoke and shouting, there was soot in his hair, his expensive but serviceable clothing was soaked and he was splattered with muck and manure.

"Not at all," Scott said, raising his voice a little to be heard above the surrounding cacophony. "I'm Scott Summers, head of student affairs at Xavier's Institute. Most of the young people here are from the school."

Schwartz ducked his head to peer at Scott under the neck of the horse he was leading. "The private school for the mutant kids up toward town? Nice of y'all to come out." A girl in a yellow slicker and muck-caked workboots held the gate for them and they led the horses down the road toward an older paddock that mercifully wasn't reliant on the electronic fencing system.

"It's part of a volunteer initiative," Scott explained, feeling extremely odd to be talking up the Red X program to a man whose farm was on fire. "Helps the kids feel good about themselves, gets people used to them."

Schwartz opened the gate to the paddock and turned the mare he led loose and gestured for Scott to do the same. A pair of Jamies weren't far behind, leading two horses each with remarkable composure. Schwartz held the gate for the Jamies who both gave Scott grins and nods as they let the horses go.

"Thanks, Jamie," Scott said and waved as the two ran back up the hill.

"Those students of yours?" Schwartz said, nodding approvingly as he and Scott began to trudge back to the barn at the older man's slower pace. "Twins. Must be a handful."

"Actually, sir," Scott said, grinning. "They're the same boy. That's Jamie, and he can keep at least a half dozen of himself going at once."

Schwartz cast Scott a suspicious glance but didn't stop moving. At the top of the hill, the two Jamies met up with a third and ran off together. "I'll be damned," Schwartz said. The bright star that was Shiro arced through the sky over the farm and Scott's grin became a genuine smile. "That's something else." Schwartz shook his head and clasped Scott's shoulder. "Xavier's, eh? Glad you all came out."

"Yes, sir," Scott said. "The program's called Red X, it's a wing of the Red Cross. And we're glad for the chance to help."




Shiro was sure he was not the only one who let out a whistle under his breath as he and the rest of the Red X team arrived at the fire. If nothing else, it was certainly impressive. He surveyed the situation, figuring that he would be best suited to help with the actual fighting of the fire. But he was distracted just as he started walking over to that group.

“What the fuck do you mean, Kevin’s in there?” Shiro heard somebody demand. Turning, he saw two farmhands staring flabbergasted at one of the burning stables. It looked about ready to collapse. “Because of that fucking horse?”

Shiro approached the two. “There is someone in there?” They nodded at him. “Idiot.” Without another word, he took to the air and flew forward, surrounding himself with solar flare to protect himself from the heat. If he was lucky, this Kevin guy had not got himself caught in the fire, but Shiro doubted that. Anyone who runs into a fire to save something is likely to do something incredibly dumb.

Like get trapped behind fallen burning rafters. Shiro heard a cry for help before his shielded eyes could see the figure of a man standing close to what appeared to be a huge horse. With another muffled “idiot,” Shiro stepped forward until the man could see him.

“Remind someone to kick you when we are out of here,” he snorted.

“Who are you?”

“Shiro Yoshida, from Red X.” Even shielded from the flames, there was no way he could manage to move the flaming beams out of the way. But luckily for him, the man and his horse had their backs to a wall. Hopping over the rafters, Shiro held his hands out, concentrating to release a plasma burst to blow open an exit. Two seconds later and there was a gaping hole where the wall used to be. “Get your horse and get out.”

“Or you could be rude about it,” the man mumbled, grabbing his horse’s reins and safely leading him out. “I can’t just let a prize horse die in a fucking fire, y’know. Though after this, it ain’t like he’s about to race again anytime soon anyway.”

“Then I hope your near death experience was worth it.” Shiro took a step forward to follow him out, but jumped back as more beams from the roof fell down, blocking his way. Looking up, he could see that it was very close to collapsing. “Great. This is what happens when I do good things.” Taking a step back as more of the roof fell, he sighed and raised his arms.

It was probably a frightening sight from outside; a small burning building collapsing, when suddenly a huge pillar of flame rises from within, causing the stables to finally fall over entirely, and a sole figure flying our from the ruins, covered in flame.

“There was not anyone else in there, right?” Shiro asked, landing next to Kevin, brushing his blackened hands off on his pants. He was answered with a short shake of the head, and a surprised ‘How the Hell did you survive that?’ gape directed at him. “Good. Let’s go.”





Angelo was off to one side of the shelter area, hammering a tent peg into the ground. The smoke in the air didn't bother him as much as the general cold and damp, but he wasn't going to complain when things needed doing.

"Hey there." Scott tossed Angelo a handful of fluorescent plastic flags. "We need to mark the ties well, with so many people moving around." He stuffed a handful of the flags in his own pocket and moved on a few feet to drive another stake in with a few practiced blows.

Angelo caught the flags and set about marking the ties as instructed. "Hey. How's it lookin' out there?"

"Hot," Scott said wryly, wiping drizzle from his visor. "I think they'll get it under control. There's a lot of people coming in to help out and with the work the kids are doing, it'll get settled. I'm glad you made it out." Unspoken was the reference to the fire still leaping at the sky from some of the buildings up the hill.

Angelo shrugged, knowing what Scott meant. "Hey, they said I didn't have t'go over there, so it's okay."

"Still, I know this kind of thing is hard for some people." Scott flagged the line he'd just secured and moved on. "You doing okay otherwise?" He didn't get to talk to the boy much but he got the sense that Angelo tended to run himself ragged over other people's problems, maybe so he didn't have to look at his own. It was a tendancy he recognized well.

Angelo nodded. "Pretty much, yeah. For right now, at least", he added, knowing Scott would call him on any hint of pretence.

"You feeling better about the mansion, think you're gonna stick it out? Here, hold that stake, it'll go faster like this." Scott tossed the next stake to Angelo and pointed to a spot on the ground. "If I hit you, you can have a free swing at me."

Angelo laughed. "Fair enough." He dug the stake into the ground as far as he could and held it steady. "Yeah, I think I always was. I wouldn't've gone for more'n a few days."

"Now that," Scott said, taking a swing and driving the stake partway home. "I understand completely. I'd have taken Samson up on it at your age, more than once, I think. Hell." He took another swing and then gave Angelo a grin. "I'd take him up on it now, some days."

Angelo grinned back. "Noticed you didn't go anywhere durin' spring break, though."

"No rest for the wicked." Scott pushed damp hair back from his forehead and made a mental note to get a haircut. "Wasn't going to leave Betsy, anyway."

Angelo nodded, kicking himself. "Oh, yeah, of course. How's she doin'?"

Scott shrugged. "She's a strong person. I think she's doing better than most. Still." He gave Angelo a look, wondering if he could put the boy's desire to save the world to use. "You can see how it'd be hard for her to get back into things."

Angelo nodded. "Yeah, totally. 'Specially with what Kwannon did with her body."

"Be nice if, when she's ready to get back in touch with people, there'd be some folks she was sure of." Scott flagged the line and moved on.

Angelo glanced at him, starting to get his drift. "Well, I'm around if you need me", he said simply.

"I appreciate that." Scott tossed him another stake. "Means a lot."






Flurries. Wonderful. If the night couldn't possibly get -any- worse, aside from the drifting smoke that was making her eyes water, and her throat itch, a few flakes of snow were starting to fall. It was April, for crying out loud. It was not supposed to -snow-. Marie-Ange flexed her fingers against the cold, and concentrated on holding her mental grip on the stretch of wooden poles in front of her. Two of the horses - she wasn't sure what kind, or gender - they were brown, horse-shaped and bigger than she was - had stubbornly headed in exactly the opposite direction than they'd been told the animals needed to be.

Horses, she thought, were stupid. Paige was obviously insane for liking them so much.

Manuel hated the snow possibly even more than Marie-Ange did, but he refused to let the reddish-brown of her annoyance touch him. For the first time in months, he was _free_. Free to see, free to manipulate, free to get shut down forever if he wasn't 1000% on the up-and-up. So he huddled inside of his oversized ill-fitting Red-X loaner jacket, and tried to think warm thoughts. "If you get the others to round up the horses into one area, I can lead them out." he called over to Marie-Ange, who looked like she was coordinating the efforts of the others.

Marie-Ange rolled her eyes, first at Manuel in general, because he was speaking, and then at the idea that she was coordinating. He was insane. But she knew that.
She glanced over at Doug, who was attempting with something like success to lead a horse - she still didn't know what kind, but this one was darker brown than the two she was attempting to blockade. "Tell him I can't get the others to do -anything-, and that I'm a little busy right now?" she asked in French.

Doug sighed. He wasn't wild about playing intermediary between his girlfriend and the Spanish empath, but he was trying his hardest. With the remnants of his power-induced headache from the night before, it was hard, but he was managing. He turned to relay Marie-Ange's comments to Manuel, but before he could, Manuel spoke again.

Manuel rolled his eyes - he couldn't understand her words, but the emotional content came through loud and clear. "Just get them into this area here. Should be large enough to hold them all. And clear a path to the safe area. I only get one shot at this, so this could get ugly."

"Get them into this area here." Marie-Ange repeated sarcastically under her breath. "Right. Its a -horse-. Its big and stupid and I -make things- you moronic cockroach. I don't talk to animals. " Her volume increased as she ranted.

Doug patted the flank of the horse he had been leading as it joined the two corralled by Marie-Ange's imaged fencepost and squeezed her shoulder once for support. His head was still throbbing from the previous night, he was cold and wet and the last thing he wanted to do was get kicked in the head by a spooked horse. "Just keep the fence up, Angie. You're doing -fine-. He can wait." He said quietly, as he slowly walked towards one of the younger mares.

Manuel kept his attention, both mundane and psionic, on the temporary "corral" area. He looked calm, but his hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles white from the strain. An equine scream startled him, as a particularly strong-willed stallion decided to make a break for it, taking a half-dozen others with him. Manny lashed out with his power, a part of him reveling in the freedom, his eyes glowing cherry red as he wormed his way into the stultifying shoebox that was non-human emotions. ~Get back over here, you little fucker.~ he said in Castillian softly as he exerted his mind.

"Or.. not." Doug skidded in mid-step and dug his heels into the ground. The smallish mare he was trying to lead had tensed as the stallion bolted - bad enough the horses -in- the corral were trying to run, the loose ones panicking would undo what work they'd already done.

"Merde!" Marie-Ange snapped as the horses turned to run back out of her enclosure. She couldn't make it closed in the first place, that would render it useless - but opening and closing it took more fine control than she had - and she was already winging it with makeshift fences in the first place. ~Something with -hinges- next time~ she thought to herself. She roughly yanked a small packet from inside her jacket pocket - rather than the pouch on her belt - and gripped it tightly. With all her attention on the existing images, she could not spare any attention to look for better source images, but this makeshift fencing of staves was -not- going to work. "Doug? Help?" she called harshly.

Manuel saw the problem, _felt_ it in his bones, and pushed his power as he rarely ever had before. Not only did his eyes glow a brilliant red, illuminating his entire face out to a foot or so, but the horses themselves starting to have a reddish tinge about their eyes. He forced them to see him as their new dominant male, and once he felt their acceptance, he gave them an Imperative - return to the corral, quietly and quickly. ~Obey.~ he said, clearly, in Castillian. ~Obey me, for I am Empath.~

"Wow. Wow, that's -really- arrogant." Doug whispered, leading the mare towards Angie. He couldn't just let the horse -be-, but she needed help, so.

When Doug arrived, Marie-Ange thrust the packet of cards at him. "Cards. Wall. NOW," she demanded, struggling with her concentration. The far edges of her construct were starting to drift, and she turned her attention away, trying to hold onto the image as long as possible. The horses panicked snorts and squeals, and the hazy red glow she -knew- was Manuel wasn't helping.

Doug flipped through the cards as quickly as possible, grabbing the first wall-like thing he saw, which he barely registered as green before Marie-Ange snatched it from his hand.

As the corral of staves started to warp and fade, a larger wall of what appeared to be thick woody vines appeared around it, the vines twisting around themselves to form a curved wall, replacing the corral.

Manuel felt his grip on the horses slipping, so he closed his eyes entirely (cutting the red glow down to just the redness of his pupils through his eyelids) to concentrate on the feelings more directly. ~Yes, that's it.~ he muttered in Castillian. ~Come to me. Yes. All, come to me _now_.~ And sure enough, the horses were obeying, slowing their panicked stampede to return to the now-vined corral area.

Doug whistled quietly under his breath at the display of power Manuel was putting on. As a matter of fact, it gave him a bit of an idea. Manuel had said that his projective body language trick that he had used was akin to emotional manipulation. Maybe he couldn't manage the scale Manuel was, but... He turned to the mare he'd been trying to lead, which had been balking. Concentrating, he projected a sense of command and control with his body language. His pounding head throbbed with the strain, but the mare began to follow him towards the new enclosure.

Marie-Ange gritted her teeth. She wasn't half as familiar with -this- image as she was with the staves. She really needed to start planning ahead for these things, she thought. "Get him to hurry -up-? Please?" she whispered harshly at Doug. "I don't want to be anywhere near him, and I do not know how long I can hold this. The horses need to go - there- " She pointed at a field where she could see some of their classmates leading other groups of horses. "Please?"
Manuel walked forward, still with his eyes closed, among the herd of still horses. Touching a flank here, running his fingers through a mane there, until he had passed through their number in the direction of the final staging area.

"I will lead them to freedom." he says in English in a loud, clear voice. "Follow me." He threw his arms out to the side, and began to walk towards the final staging ground, eyes burning red even through his eyelids, the horses following him placidly.

Marie-Ange rolled her eyes at Manuel's measured pace. He was making a production out of this, and she was going to lose the constructed walls in far, far too short of a time. "Hurry, Manuel! I do not have time for theatrics! I can -not- hold this much longer." She sank to the ground, uncaring of the dirt and wet med seeping in through her pants. The ground gave her something to dig her fingers into that wasn't her own flesh.

Manuel finally decided to indulge his childish need to be irritating. "Learn. I am." he spits back at her, then continues his stately march to the full recovery area, the horses trailing after him placidly like equine sheep after their mutant Little Bo Peep.

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