It's Greek to Me: Oh Look, Guests

[x-hawkeye.livejournal.com]

The group is surprised by the arrival of a group of green, human-ish shaped people. Violent, green, human-ish shaped people.


Clint stood back for a moment, eyes skating over the lab to take in the tanks Kyle had brought and the equipment he was hoping had managed to stay outside the line of dropping fish. He really didn't want to have to replace anything but he also really wanted to see if any of it was actually taking readings of the... whatever it was, tiny little wormhole, maybe, that was dropping the fish all over the lab.

Just then, another few fish plopped out of the air and dropped into the tank they'd situated beneath the opening. "Jesus," Clint muttered.

Molly reached down to quickly grab a fish that had overshot the tank and flopped around helplessly on the floor, tossing it in with it's little fish buddies.

"Okay, on the plus side...we know it works. Yay! So um...any ideas how to turn it off? Before everything turns into the set of Bioshock? I think hitting again would probably be a bad idea."

"The fuck?" Matt mumbled, head cocked to one side as the portal dropped more fish around. He'd never seen, sensed, whatever, anything like it. Reaching out, he went to touch it. Heightened senses or not, touch was still a mainstay for any blind man.

Clint didn't notice Matt reaching for the thing, whatever it was, until it was pretty much too late. "Matt," he started, only then his brother's hand disappeared and he froze, two seconds from legitimately flipping his shit even as more fish rained down around the younger man.

"Ew!" Matt exclaimed, his hand disappearing into the portal and touching...wet. Wet and slimy. Gross. "The hell is this?!" he asked.

"Dude! NO touchy!" Kyle nearly dropped another fish tank, they were trying (and sometimes failing) to get them changed out before they filled up with too many weirdo fish. "For serious, do not touch the thing, never touch the thing, touching the thing is bad news." He grabbed towards Matt's shirt, trying to pull him back out of the portal before it did something bad like turn him into a squid-kid or eat all his skin or start barfing super-smart genetically engineered sharks.

"What?" Matt asked, annoyed, "I'm blind! Powers or not, blind!" His hand emerged from the portal unscathed, along with a few more fish. "I'm fine!" at least, so far as he knew.

"For the record," said the man in the room old enough to be on some fossil records, "That asinine excuse has not lost any of its idiocy over the centuries." Namor, for his part, was more focused on his job of using his trident's water-moving abilities to shift the water that accompanied the fishes into the provided fish-bowls than the adventures of the Blind and Otherworldly Poor Decisions, but sass was always worth a brief break in task.

He raised a single eyebrow toward Clint, locking gazes with the other man almost lazily, and suggested, "I say we hit the thing again and break it completely. This is not worth the trouble. Unless your moronic brother has discovered more than 'water is still wet.'"

Clint snorted a laugh despite himself and opened his mouth to reply only to be interrupted by the unmistakable sound of something much larger than a deep sea fish hitting the floor behind him. He whirled around, half expecting to find himself looking at a giant squid or a massive shark. Only... no, this was definitely not a fish. At least not entirely.

A humanoid creature lay on the floor for a moment, green-skinned and obviously holding items that could only be weapons. Then it pushed itself out of the way as another creature landed where it had been moments before. Reaching for the wall behind him, Clint spared a brief 'thank you' to whoever it was that put alarm pulls at every station in the lab.

"Huh," was all a befuddled Namor had to offer as the two green humanoids began to collect themselves on their too long legs. His confusion, after a beat, was replaced by curiosity as a look a recognition spread across the Atlantean's features.

"Lemurians," he commented idly like someone watching a storm roll in, "And I claimed science wasn't fun."

Kyle had not known until now that he could gag from the overwhelming stench of fish and brine and hit the emergency oh shit button on his phone -and- kick over a lab table all at once. Now he did. He rolled and hit the floor as another of the unbelievably smelly fish people came through the portal, and the first started shrieking something high-pitched that made Kyle's ears hurt.

Even if he couldn't understand it, it was clearly a challenge. "Namor, what the fuck?" He was absolutely blaming Namor.

There was a spear. A spear that was now flying toward Billy and Clint totally knew that Billy could handle himself, but it was instinct to toss a microscope at the spear, sending it just off course enough to avoid his friend even as Clint pushed himself up onto one of the tables in the middle of the lab and then right over the back side of it. He landed a flip and then looked at the array of chemicals around him before giving up on science for the moment. Blunt force would totally work right now.

Picking up another microscope as a fourth fish person fell into the room, Clint tossed it at the mechanism in the hope that whacking it a second time would undo whatever whacking it the first time had done to make it work.

Molly eyed the thrown spear that had embedded itself into the wall, then the green guys that had showed up. Making a mad dash across the room, she slid under a table and out of the grasp of a fish person, popping up on the other side to yank the spear out of the wall with a flash of glowing purple eyes.

She turned around, twirling the spear around before lifting her head to meet the gaze of the fish person who looked to be in charge. There was always somebody, even if it was temporary. Those guys couldn't speak English, which she was used to running into a lot, but they understood violence. She was pretty fluent in that.

One of the fish people seemed offended by her picking up the spear and charged at her shouting something that sounded angry.

Molly grinned, nimbly sidestepping him as he slammed into a nearby table. Taking the spear, she flipped it around and used the blunt end like a baseball bat to whack him in the head and knock him out.

"Hey fishdicks, who's next?" she said, motioning at the others to come at her.

Between the fish people, the fish smell, the ridiculous voices and the throwing things, Matt was on the defensive, his elbow meeting the nose of a fish person as he spun, putting him on the floor. "Let's close that thing!" Matt spat before more emerged from the portal.

Clint checked the mechanism, now slightly dented from Namor's whack and laying on its side thanks to his toss with the microscope. He dug through his pockets for a moment, finding nothing but a handful of coins. Cursing, he lined up a shot with a quarter. It pinged off the button in the middle of the mechanism, ricocheted off a gear, and smacked a green dude in the back of the head before disappearing.

The distorted portal winked out of existence. "Got it," he said, shoving the rest of his coins back into his pocket. Billy was doing something interesting containment-wise with lightning to make sure none of their guests left the lab and Clint was mildly worried about all of them getting electrocuted, but he stopped thinking about that as he hopped back over the table and scooped up Matt's cane. "Hey bro, incoming," he called, tossing it to the younger man even as he moved to engage the fish person Matt had put on the floor a moment ago.

Reaching into the air, Matt caught the cane as it flew behind him, pivoting and incorporating it seamlessly to use it to whack t the guy Clint was still wrestling. It caused the end of the cane to break off, a problem Matt had had many times actually, and he didn't think anything of it.

An invitation to a fight. Kyle didn't even need it printed out on that awesome paper that they printed important stuff on. He vaulted over the kicked-over table, and went claws and head first into the chest of one of the green lemur-people. An elbow strike, a headbutt and an ugly claw rake later, he was kicked away, came up bloody nosed, rolled right back into the fight. "Hey Namor?" He growled, ducking a shark tooth dagger that swiped at his face. "Can fish?" The Lemurian hooked Kyle's neck with a scaly arm and he bit down on scales. "Get concussions?"

Then Kyle twisted, and the Lemurian went over his hip, and hit the ground hard, and Kyle was on top of him, bouncing his opponent's head off the ground.

The blond received an affirmative grunt in reply that was punctuated by a scaled creature hurled through the air followed closely by a smiling, majestic pursuer. Namor, hovering, had been a blur of violence in the battle — all trident strikes efficient, brutal — as he acted as a one man defensive barricade between any Lemurians looking to aid each other in each of the masionite's individual battle royales. His dialogue had been entirely in Atlantean until this point, but the inflection and the sheer joy he was taking out of it only hinted at trash talk.

Namor paused in mid-air, “Lemurians were always hard-headed, but this is stupid even for them.”

He raised his trident overhead, smile pulled tight into concentration, and the water from the aquarium rose into the air. Namor, continuing as if this were a dance, moved the trident in slow, sweeping arcs to direct the water to congeal around the already subdued invaders, encasing them all in floating bubble prisons.

“Finish this,” he commanded to no one in particular.

Without intending, Matt and Clint mirrored each other, their overlapping martial arts backgrounds blending together to take the fish dude down and keep him there. "Kimura Power," he grinned once it seemed everything was quieting, "When our powers combine..."

A little out of breath and a lot slimy thanks to his grappling contest with the fish guy, Clint let himself flop onto his back in a puddle. "Aw, bro, no," he groaned, laughing a little despite himself. "Just... no." He could hear, over the sound of dripping of water and the harsh breathing of everyone else in the room, feet pounding down the hallway toward the lab. "Aw, ankle-thingie mechanism, no," he said, the words more heartfelt than his comment to Matt. Somehow, this was going to wind up being all his fault, he just knew it.