Amanda Sefton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
xp_daytripper) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
xp_logs2016-01-26 12:20 am
xp_daytripper) wrote in xp_logs2016-01-26 12:20 am
Entry tags:
X-Men Mission: Fall of the Mutants - Part 1
The X-Men arrive at the Con-Ed docks to the sight of the Morlocks attacking a group of humans on a scow and swing into action.
The Blackbird came in hot; too hot for Manhattan. Urgency had forced them to abandon the usual protocols to approaching the city, relying on speed ahead of their stealth systems to get them into place quickly. The waters of the East River broke into a rippling wave as the jet dropped lower and slewed itself around to orient on the scow sitting aside the dock. The operation was simple, come in and drop off the X-Men from the rear ramp and then the autopilot pulls the ship out and up on a long, high loop to maintain station. The rear ramp opened and they clustered at the back.
Scott's eyes flicked around the scenery visible through the window catching sight of the fight they had noticed on the way in through the buildings as his fingers flew across the panel in front of him with the confidence of long practice. "We're down, fight's at 3 o'clock" he called back to the team loaded in the back of the Blackbird as he unbuckled his harness and started to the back of the Blackbird.
"Nice to know they're big on time management," Jean said, hoisting her medical kit over her shoulders. The kit worked best as a backpack, freeing up her sense of mobility, and provided the basics. Anything bigger she could go back to the Blackbird for.
When the call had come from Logan about what was going on, Jean had agreed to go, even if the accidental draw into Topaz and Meggan's mind had been a week before. Being an X-Man was her job, however, and she knew her powers, as well as her medical skills would be needed.
Not to mention part of her wanted to be able to actually let loose a little steam and fight back against something this time.
Kane hit the ground first. That was one of the most practiced rules in deployment; the invulnerables and semi-invulnerables hit the ground first, there to soak up any attack. But for now, the X-Men seemed to be ignored.
"Clear!"
Teleporting herself first out of the plane and then in small jumps to the roof of a warehouse, Clarice reported, "Clear, eyes on the prize," she stated calmly. She too carried medical supplies in a backpack, but for now she was staying out of the action, using binoculars to help call shots from a distance. She'd go in soon enough, but better not to have everyone on the ground at once sometimes. "Let's hit 'em hard!"
Logan was a step behind Kane, scanning for any incoming threats. They needed the Blackbird to still be there when it was time to get out of here. Even if Clarice was there. The more options they had the better. It was doubtful they'd gone unnoticed by the fighting parties and probably just weren't important enough to be dealt with right then. "And put 'em down quick."
Jennie squinted, watching the way probability moved around all of them. "Getting some red," she said, and then smoothed her hair into place, then cracking her neck. "Be on alert. They probably know we're coming."
"Well, we don't seem to have made much of an impression yet." Sooraya commented as she hopped down and surveyed the fighting parties. "I'm guessing they are too busy." She winced as a human figure shot was thrown in their direction to land harshly and remain there, not moving.
"Since they know we're here let’s not leave them waiting for too long." Scott nodded at the fight, "Wolverine, Dominion, take point. Remember the mission everyone, and let’s move out."
Jean takes on a shapechanger with a very versatile range.
There was chaos all around. Obvious mutants grappled and fought with official-looking people equipped with firearms - but despite their rag-tag nature it seemed like the mutants were winning. Jean couldn't help but grimace as one agent was knocked sprawling by what looked to be a small crane, though as she watched it stretched and morphed into a dark-haired man who balled his fists and ran towards his downed opponent, teeth bared in anger.
What was once immediately fascinating to Jean to witness that of a shapeshifter was now something that lead to exasperation (and perhaps still a LITTLE bit of fascination--she was a scientist, after all).
She was determined to have a win this time after messing up so badly on the astral plane with Meggan and Topaz and the swim-from-hell.
As the crane/man ran toward the agent, he was soon knocked off his path by a telekinetic burst that sent him toward a stack of nearby crates.
"Stand down."
"No!" he all but howled, scrambling to his feet once more. His hands swelled to disturbingly flesh-coloured mallets as he charged at Jean, intent on ridding himself of this threat before finishing off what he had started with the agent.
Jean cocked her head to the side, waiting until he was almost right upon her before wrapping a rope around his legs in an attempt to trip him before he could get a swing in.
"Alright. Then I'll make you."
The other mutant tumbled to the ground; as soon as he was horizontal his limbs lengthened until he could untangle himself from the restraint. Pushing to his feet again he lashed out at Jean with his elongated arms, intent on wrapping her in their elasticated lengths.
Jean figured he'd be able to get out of the ropes. She just didn't expect it to be that quickly. Because of it, she was somewhat thrown off kilter, allowing a couple of precious moments for him to grab her like a spider gathering a fly in its web.
"Leave... us... alone!" the man grunted, his arms tightening around Jean as he trundled her backwards towards the railing.
Struggling to breathe, Jean first felt herself start to panic, but then she found herself getting angry instead. Not again. She wasn't going to fail anymore.
She gritted her teeth, targeting a psi-blast his way that was designed to stun and disorient, if not knock him off his damn feet.
"No," she said bluntly. She could feel a headache starting to form but ignored it. The job wasn't done.
"Your people are killers. You need to be stopped."
The psi-blast did its job; the man tumbled to the ground, pulling Jean with him. With the disorientation came a loosening of her limbs and she was able to scramble free of his grasp as he moaned and curled on the deck of the ship.
With him down for the count, Jean was ready with the rope again, her goal to try to tie him up and knock him out. Truth be told she wasn't sure what to do from there. Usually they just got away on the other missions.
As she watched her opponent seemed to shrink, growing smaller and smaller before her very eyes. One second he was normal-sized, then he was the size of a skateboard, a shoebox, a pincushion. And then he wasn't there at all - except he was, as a tiny black ant scuttling away from her as fast as its six legs could carry it.
At first, Jean wasn't sure where he had gone, especially given his size. But he was a human posing as an insect, and she could still read a human brain. So it became a matter of concentrating on figuring out where his psi signature was. His signature was unique, like everyone else's,but it was more like a chameleon in its composition.
Closing her eyes, she reached out her mind, locking onto the tiny creature. It had scampered away toward the lower decks, but hadn't quite gotten there yet. She grabbed an empty beer bottle someone had left on deck, then scooped up the tiny ant and dropped him inside before he could change forms. Doing so now would risk hurting himself.
"I think we're done here, don't you?"
Garrison vs. Sunder. It ends on a surprising note.
Not all of the Morlocks were preoccupied with their combatants. As the X-Men set foot on the deck, a large shape detached itself from the uniformed man it was pounding into a bloody mess, advancing with deceptive speed. Sunder charged at the front runners, head down and fists leading, too focussed on the fight to waste breath on speaking.
"That is one big motherfucker. Who has the big motherfucker?" Kane called over the comms. "Let me guess. I get the big motherfucker right? Why do I always get the big motherfuc-"
He was cut off as Sunder hit him full on. He dug in his heels, actually warping the metal deck under his feet as the Morlock slammed into him.
"Last chance to surrender, man." Kane hissed as the two men grappled. Sunder was stronger, but Kane seemed to have the stamina to check him.
"Why would I surrender to you?" Sunder hissed.
"Oh no, I was saying it was my last chance to surrender. I'm considering it. If I do, will you at least leave me Japan, Kamchatka and Yakutsk?"
Amazingly, Sunder snorted. "You only wish. If you're lucky, you'll get Australia," he replied, pushing harder against Kane, gauging his strength. "Might hurt a bit less." He abruptly stopped pushing, instead shifting his weight to yank on Kane's arms, using the X-Man's own momentum as well as his power to hurl the Canadian towards the bulkhead.
Unfortunately for Sunder, Garrison was far faster than him and twisted into the pivot, turning it back into the same move on the larger Morlock, denting the metal with the force that he slammed him into it. Three body blows landed with thunderous cracks, pushing him further into the metal.
"Don't ignore Australia. Only one way in, one guard post, same value as South America. If you can grab it, you can grab North America." He slammed his elbow into Sunder's head. "And over half the games are won by the person who holds North America!"
"But if you hold Africa and chunks of Europe and Asia, you can deny your opponent the high-scoring continents and keep your country bonus," grunted Sunder. He caught Kane's elbow as it came in for another hit, using his superior height and weight to push it over the Canadian's head and bend him backwards. "It's not all about the size, didn't your mama tell you that?"
"My mom is dead." Kane said deadpan. The Morlock's gaze flickered slightly, which Kane used to drive a knee right into where Sunder's size did not matter. He took the clipped elbow across the face, in order to slam the man's head back into the steel again.
With effort, Sunder pulled his head out of the crumpled metal, shaking it to clear the ringing. "Not… bad...shortstuff..." he wheezed, both hands occupied in cupping his groin. No matter how much invulnerability you had, a super-strong knee to the family jewels hurt. "Too bad you're on the wrong side. What's a mutant doing defending these butchers?" The question might have been blatant buying time for recovery, but there was genuine feeling behind it. "The money too good?"
"Money? You think I wear an outfit like this because of the cash and the pension plan?" He slammed another blow into his side. "I'm here to stop a massacre."
"Massacre? Too late for that." Sunder grunted at the hit, swinging a roundhouse at the Canadian's head. "These fuckers have been killing us off for weeks."
Kane pushed his arm up, catching inside Sunder's elbow, killing the momentum of the swing. Instead, the
Canadian looked at his opposition levelly.
"I have a proposal. In the next 30 seconds, you tell me your side. Maybe this is a fucking mistake after all."
Blink really doesn’t like rats. Too bad she’s fighting the Morlock who can control them.
As a general rule, Clarice disliked mutant-hating terrorist groups like this one appeared to be. Then again, she also disliked mutants attacking humans. It left her in something of a quandary given than the Morlocks were beating the shit out of the humans, because damned if you do, damned if you don't. As an X-Man though, that was the job. Stop people from being shits to each other even when they were both problematic. No one said the job was easy.
Teleporting from the roof of the warehouse and into the fray, Clarice drew her sword as she came between a tiny woman attacking a much larger man. "Break it up!" she snarled, forcing the two apart.
Pester jerked back as the purple woman dropped in between them, fangs bared as she hissed. "Get out of the way!" She snarled back, rats rallying in the shadows, preparing to attack.
"No attacking humans!" Blink stated, automatically dropping into a more offensive fighting stance, "Or anyone else!" she added, because she was clearly next.
A cruel smirk pulled at the other woman's lips as she said, "I'm not attacking anyone." And with that the rats dove at Clarice.
Details. "Hope they're not your friends," Clarice replied, opening a portal as an umbrella-shaped shield and sending many of the rats to their watery grave. That didn't stop them all though and she advanced on the Morlock using her sword to slash and hack at more of the rodents. "Don't make me hurt you," she warned, though she didn't think it would do much good.
"Sure, take their side!" Pester snapped as she pulled the rats back. There were only so many there, she couldn't sacrifice them all. "We're just trying to protect ourselves, they don't need help!"
Did rats count towards her body-count? Probably not. Hopefully not. "It's not about sides!" was she really going to debate the philosophy of all this here and now? "You can't go and hurt humans and expect to be left alone!"
The woman growled and, done with this conversation, sprung into action. She darted behind the purple woman, head butting her in the small of her back.
Clarice was fast, but she wasn't super-human fast. Stumbling forward, she turned, falling into an offensive stance and moving to strike. She didn't like hurting people, especially someone defending her home such as it was, but she wasn't going to let her just attack either!
Pester hissed, and two more rats jumped out of the shadows, aiming for Clarice's face.
Knocking one rat away, the other landed, causing Clarice to ignore the other woman as she tried to get the little vermin off her face. Tugging at it and getting scratched, she tossed it at Pester, not caring if it died or what. "Bitch!" she breathed, following the rat-attack with several well-placed blows. Clarice didn't like to hurt others. That didn't mean she couldn't.
She caught the rat, but the distraction was enough for the punches to land true. One to the face, three more to various parts of her torso, and she gasped as she stumbled, scrambling out of reach.
Clarice advanced on Pester, very deliberately kicking her in the side, before gripping her neck in hand, "You lose," she stated, squeezing just hard enough to get her point across.
Logan meets Tar-Baby and winds up in a sticky situation.
The guy stalking toward him looked like a reject from a paper shredder. Covered in paper strips from who knows where and wearing an eye patch. Who the hell wore an eye patch these days? He didn't smell too nice either. Something like a combo of food just beginning to turn and the lack of access to a good shower. Times were tough after all. Sometimes Logan hated his enhanced senses. "Hey, bub, why don'tcha make this easy and not put up a fight?"
The man just grinned at him, his teeth brilliantly white against the pitch blackness of his face. "Sorry, pal, but we were here first," he replied in a thick New York accent. "And you ain't wanted here."
"In the grand scheme of things, neither of us is wanted right now. And you're bringin' a lot of unwanted attention on us all," Logan growled as he unsheathed his claws then lunged forward to swipe at the man.
Incredibly, the man stepped towards the attack, letting Logan's strike swipe across his torso. Or it started to, at least - the movement was halted by the claws sinking into the sticky, tar-like substance of which the man was apparently composed.
"What the hell...." This didn't happen. The fights Logan was in, things either sliced cleanly through or broke into a million pieces. Sticking never happened. He yanked back hard to pull free, hearing a slick sucking sound as he did so.
His claws only partially escaped, the ends mired in the sticky goo. "Surprise." The man grinned again, reaching out with an elongated arm with an intent to wrap his fingers around Logan's throat.
Logan grunted and tried using the combined force of both pulling back and withdrawing to see if he could work himself free. No way was some walking fly trap going to get the best of him.
Tar-Baby bounced back and forth with the movement, like a balloon on a string being yanked backwards and forwards. It meant he lost his balance and wound up wrapping his fingers around Logan's upper arm and shoulder instead of his neck, but that only served to get Logan even more entangled. The tarry goo stuck to Logan's uniform, his skin and his hair, his claws... and it was slowly inching towards his face.
Logan would need to give himself the best decontamination he'd ever had after this shit show was over. He snarled and twisted his neck and shoulders as much as he could to keep the goo from getting where it obviously wanted to go. He kicked out at the upper leg of the oozing mess of a man, hoping he wasn't getting himself even more wrapped up.
He was, but Tar-Baby had made a discovery. He'd immobilised his foe, yes, but he'd used up all of his body to do it. He couldn't stretch any further, not even to cover Logan's nose and mouth and suffocate him. "Well, fuck," he said, feelingly.
Logan snorted. "Nice stalemate we got goin' on here." He continued to attempt to escape with no luck. Great. He was stuck in a walking talking version of a tar pit with no idea how the hell to get himself out of this. "Any chance you'd make both our lives easier and let me go?"
Force-beam meets electrical beam. It’s painful.
Scott's eyes followed the flow of battle back and forward, looking for that one opportunity or break in the fighting where he could interfere as the two sides raged back and forwards. If there was one thing he'd learned it was there was always an opportunity to shift the course of battle. Perhaps one like that, he thought a force beam spearing out at the fight.
Erg hung back like he'd been told and waited. Life on the streets as a painter made him no slouch in a fight but one's gotta pick and choose their battles. The red beam spearing through the air caught his attention and he chased its path back to its origin. Interlopers were here. Likely sent to destroy them all. He moved forward and crouched behind a container, peering around the corner to fire off an energy blast at the leather clad figure.
It was only pure luck and years of careful training that saved Scott. He hadn't even noticed Erg firing at him, it was just a glint out of the side of his eye, caught in his peripheral vision, that warned him. On pure reflex Scott threw himself backwards to the side hastily snapping a shot back at Erg as he fell out of the way of the energy blast.
Erg hadn't stayed in the same position. He stayed low to the ground as he scampered to the next source of cover and fired back, aiming at the metal surrounding Scott. Contact electrocution was just as good as direct.
His assailant almost had him, Scott realised a split second after he saw the electric attacks. Luckily the X-Man had spent years training with Ororo and knew exactly how dangerous it was to stay anywhere near metal when someone was throwing Electric currents through the air. Hence his headlong dive onto the nearest non-conductor he could see, it may have been a little undignified, but he had a perfect vantage point to attack his opponent. It may not have been a direct line, but it was an easy bankable shot for the X-Man.
Erg scowled and backtracked. He now needed to score direct hits. A better vantage point would help with that but those were in short supply on a boat. He needed to get unseen and unleash everything he had on the interloper. Get them off this boat and leave them to deal with this on their own. The unexpected beam careening off weird angles smacked him flat in the chest and sent him sprawling with his head slamming into a harsh metal corner.
Cautiously Scott approached the downed figure, energy held ready just in case. Playing dead for a later surprise attack was the oldest trick in the book, and not one he intended to fall for, not after doing it himself countless plans before.
Erg groaned. His head throbbed like someone had whacked him with a massive tuning fork. He attempted to push up but the movement was quickly aborted when the world spun like a crazy tilt-a-whirl. He eased himself back down to wait for his head to settle.
Jennie and Sooraya tag-team against the leader of the Morlocks, and find it’s a harder task than expected.
There were no obvious signs of the woman's mutant ability, Sooraya concluded as she took in the situation. Glancing at Jennie, Sooraya shrugged and dissolved into her sand form, diving to see if she could 'pull the carpet' from under the woman's feet as a tentative opening.
The sand swirled around Callisto's feet, this way and that. At first, she felt some give - not a lot, but perhaps a whip would-...
The woman didn't move. Another whip, the other way - faster, harder.
Callisto's feet lifted from beneath her, both at once - she jumped high in the air, above the sudden sandstorm.
So she was strong. And she was fast. Sooraya could deal with strong and fast.
A flash of red burst in the woman's line of sight, and she stumbled on her landing. A figure came at her from the left, a blur of black. Not as strong or as fast as she, but graceful and fluid, hitting her with a powerful series of jabs. Each punch, kick, and block, was designed to test the woman's armor, to see what kind of fight they were up against.
That's why Sooraya had gone first, to test the woman's mutation and how she would react, now Jennie was testing her in combat.
And, as the woman tried to strike back at Jennie, as luck would have it, Jennie was always just frustratingly out of her reach. Callisto didn't seem to tire, didn't seem to hurt, didn't seem to falter, but every single blow it was like Jennie knew before she swung or kicked, and both women could tell Callisto was getting frustrated.
Deciding to change tactics, Sooraya rose upwards. Strong and fast the woman might be, it was hard to hit what you could not see. Suddenly she dove down a little, surrounding Callisto's head with a thick cloud of sand, taking away all her sight.
Seeing that the woman was now blinded, Jennie dropped to kick out her legs from underneath her, hopefully getting her to a place to where she could be pinned into submission. But Jennie had relied on the woman's physical mutation, and when she struck back, she struck back hard. The blow caught her in the ribs with a sickening thud - not cracked, but it was almost as though it was pitched that way, hard and slow, meant to put her out of commission rather than seriously injure.
It winded her, though. Callisto's blows were still telegraphed, still easy enough to predict, but they began to land - not every time, but often enough.
While she continued to attempt to blind her opponent without hurting Jennie, Sooraya focused her attention downwards. Lashing around with sharp tentacles, she set about disturbing Callisto's footing. Hopefully the combination of blinding and trouble with her footing would get the woman to the ground.
The Blackbird came in hot; too hot for Manhattan. Urgency had forced them to abandon the usual protocols to approaching the city, relying on speed ahead of their stealth systems to get them into place quickly. The waters of the East River broke into a rippling wave as the jet dropped lower and slewed itself around to orient on the scow sitting aside the dock. The operation was simple, come in and drop off the X-Men from the rear ramp and then the autopilot pulls the ship out and up on a long, high loop to maintain station. The rear ramp opened and they clustered at the back.
Scott's eyes flicked around the scenery visible through the window catching sight of the fight they had noticed on the way in through the buildings as his fingers flew across the panel in front of him with the confidence of long practice. "We're down, fight's at 3 o'clock" he called back to the team loaded in the back of the Blackbird as he unbuckled his harness and started to the back of the Blackbird.
"Nice to know they're big on time management," Jean said, hoisting her medical kit over her shoulders. The kit worked best as a backpack, freeing up her sense of mobility, and provided the basics. Anything bigger she could go back to the Blackbird for.
When the call had come from Logan about what was going on, Jean had agreed to go, even if the accidental draw into Topaz and Meggan's mind had been a week before. Being an X-Man was her job, however, and she knew her powers, as well as her medical skills would be needed.
Not to mention part of her wanted to be able to actually let loose a little steam and fight back against something this time.
Kane hit the ground first. That was one of the most practiced rules in deployment; the invulnerables and semi-invulnerables hit the ground first, there to soak up any attack. But for now, the X-Men seemed to be ignored.
"Clear!"
Teleporting herself first out of the plane and then in small jumps to the roof of a warehouse, Clarice reported, "Clear, eyes on the prize," she stated calmly. She too carried medical supplies in a backpack, but for now she was staying out of the action, using binoculars to help call shots from a distance. She'd go in soon enough, but better not to have everyone on the ground at once sometimes. "Let's hit 'em hard!"
Logan was a step behind Kane, scanning for any incoming threats. They needed the Blackbird to still be there when it was time to get out of here. Even if Clarice was there. The more options they had the better. It was doubtful they'd gone unnoticed by the fighting parties and probably just weren't important enough to be dealt with right then. "And put 'em down quick."
Jennie squinted, watching the way probability moved around all of them. "Getting some red," she said, and then smoothed her hair into place, then cracking her neck. "Be on alert. They probably know we're coming."
"Well, we don't seem to have made much of an impression yet." Sooraya commented as she hopped down and surveyed the fighting parties. "I'm guessing they are too busy." She winced as a human figure shot was thrown in their direction to land harshly and remain there, not moving.
"Since they know we're here let’s not leave them waiting for too long." Scott nodded at the fight, "Wolverine, Dominion, take point. Remember the mission everyone, and let’s move out."
Jean takes on a shapechanger with a very versatile range.
There was chaos all around. Obvious mutants grappled and fought with official-looking people equipped with firearms - but despite their rag-tag nature it seemed like the mutants were winning. Jean couldn't help but grimace as one agent was knocked sprawling by what looked to be a small crane, though as she watched it stretched and morphed into a dark-haired man who balled his fists and ran towards his downed opponent, teeth bared in anger.
What was once immediately fascinating to Jean to witness that of a shapeshifter was now something that lead to exasperation (and perhaps still a LITTLE bit of fascination--she was a scientist, after all).
She was determined to have a win this time after messing up so badly on the astral plane with Meggan and Topaz and the swim-from-hell.
As the crane/man ran toward the agent, he was soon knocked off his path by a telekinetic burst that sent him toward a stack of nearby crates.
"Stand down."
"No!" he all but howled, scrambling to his feet once more. His hands swelled to disturbingly flesh-coloured mallets as he charged at Jean, intent on ridding himself of this threat before finishing off what he had started with the agent.
Jean cocked her head to the side, waiting until he was almost right upon her before wrapping a rope around his legs in an attempt to trip him before he could get a swing in.
"Alright. Then I'll make you."
The other mutant tumbled to the ground; as soon as he was horizontal his limbs lengthened until he could untangle himself from the restraint. Pushing to his feet again he lashed out at Jean with his elongated arms, intent on wrapping her in their elasticated lengths.
Jean figured he'd be able to get out of the ropes. She just didn't expect it to be that quickly. Because of it, she was somewhat thrown off kilter, allowing a couple of precious moments for him to grab her like a spider gathering a fly in its web.
"Leave... us... alone!" the man grunted, his arms tightening around Jean as he trundled her backwards towards the railing.
Struggling to breathe, Jean first felt herself start to panic, but then she found herself getting angry instead. Not again. She wasn't going to fail anymore.
She gritted her teeth, targeting a psi-blast his way that was designed to stun and disorient, if not knock him off his damn feet.
"No," she said bluntly. She could feel a headache starting to form but ignored it. The job wasn't done.
"Your people are killers. You need to be stopped."
The psi-blast did its job; the man tumbled to the ground, pulling Jean with him. With the disorientation came a loosening of her limbs and she was able to scramble free of his grasp as he moaned and curled on the deck of the ship.
With him down for the count, Jean was ready with the rope again, her goal to try to tie him up and knock him out. Truth be told she wasn't sure what to do from there. Usually they just got away on the other missions.
As she watched her opponent seemed to shrink, growing smaller and smaller before her very eyes. One second he was normal-sized, then he was the size of a skateboard, a shoebox, a pincushion. And then he wasn't there at all - except he was, as a tiny black ant scuttling away from her as fast as its six legs could carry it.
At first, Jean wasn't sure where he had gone, especially given his size. But he was a human posing as an insect, and she could still read a human brain. So it became a matter of concentrating on figuring out where his psi signature was. His signature was unique, like everyone else's,but it was more like a chameleon in its composition.
Closing her eyes, she reached out her mind, locking onto the tiny creature. It had scampered away toward the lower decks, but hadn't quite gotten there yet. She grabbed an empty beer bottle someone had left on deck, then scooped up the tiny ant and dropped him inside before he could change forms. Doing so now would risk hurting himself.
"I think we're done here, don't you?"
Garrison vs. Sunder. It ends on a surprising note.
Not all of the Morlocks were preoccupied with their combatants. As the X-Men set foot on the deck, a large shape detached itself from the uniformed man it was pounding into a bloody mess, advancing with deceptive speed. Sunder charged at the front runners, head down and fists leading, too focussed on the fight to waste breath on speaking.
"That is one big motherfucker. Who has the big motherfucker?" Kane called over the comms. "Let me guess. I get the big motherfucker right? Why do I always get the big motherfuc-"
He was cut off as Sunder hit him full on. He dug in his heels, actually warping the metal deck under his feet as the Morlock slammed into him.
"Last chance to surrender, man." Kane hissed as the two men grappled. Sunder was stronger, but Kane seemed to have the stamina to check him.
"Why would I surrender to you?" Sunder hissed.
"Oh no, I was saying it was my last chance to surrender. I'm considering it. If I do, will you at least leave me Japan, Kamchatka and Yakutsk?"
Amazingly, Sunder snorted. "You only wish. If you're lucky, you'll get Australia," he replied, pushing harder against Kane, gauging his strength. "Might hurt a bit less." He abruptly stopped pushing, instead shifting his weight to yank on Kane's arms, using the X-Man's own momentum as well as his power to hurl the Canadian towards the bulkhead.
Unfortunately for Sunder, Garrison was far faster than him and twisted into the pivot, turning it back into the same move on the larger Morlock, denting the metal with the force that he slammed him into it. Three body blows landed with thunderous cracks, pushing him further into the metal.
"Don't ignore Australia. Only one way in, one guard post, same value as South America. If you can grab it, you can grab North America." He slammed his elbow into Sunder's head. "And over half the games are won by the person who holds North America!"
"But if you hold Africa and chunks of Europe and Asia, you can deny your opponent the high-scoring continents and keep your country bonus," grunted Sunder. He caught Kane's elbow as it came in for another hit, using his superior height and weight to push it over the Canadian's head and bend him backwards. "It's not all about the size, didn't your mama tell you that?"
"My mom is dead." Kane said deadpan. The Morlock's gaze flickered slightly, which Kane used to drive a knee right into where Sunder's size did not matter. He took the clipped elbow across the face, in order to slam the man's head back into the steel again.
With effort, Sunder pulled his head out of the crumpled metal, shaking it to clear the ringing. "Not… bad...shortstuff..." he wheezed, both hands occupied in cupping his groin. No matter how much invulnerability you had, a super-strong knee to the family jewels hurt. "Too bad you're on the wrong side. What's a mutant doing defending these butchers?" The question might have been blatant buying time for recovery, but there was genuine feeling behind it. "The money too good?"
"Money? You think I wear an outfit like this because of the cash and the pension plan?" He slammed another blow into his side. "I'm here to stop a massacre."
"Massacre? Too late for that." Sunder grunted at the hit, swinging a roundhouse at the Canadian's head. "These fuckers have been killing us off for weeks."
Kane pushed his arm up, catching inside Sunder's elbow, killing the momentum of the swing. Instead, the
Canadian looked at his opposition levelly.
"I have a proposal. In the next 30 seconds, you tell me your side. Maybe this is a fucking mistake after all."
Blink really doesn’t like rats. Too bad she’s fighting the Morlock who can control them.
As a general rule, Clarice disliked mutant-hating terrorist groups like this one appeared to be. Then again, she also disliked mutants attacking humans. It left her in something of a quandary given than the Morlocks were beating the shit out of the humans, because damned if you do, damned if you don't. As an X-Man though, that was the job. Stop people from being shits to each other even when they were both problematic. No one said the job was easy.
Teleporting from the roof of the warehouse and into the fray, Clarice drew her sword as she came between a tiny woman attacking a much larger man. "Break it up!" she snarled, forcing the two apart.
Pester jerked back as the purple woman dropped in between them, fangs bared as she hissed. "Get out of the way!" She snarled back, rats rallying in the shadows, preparing to attack.
"No attacking humans!" Blink stated, automatically dropping into a more offensive fighting stance, "Or anyone else!" she added, because she was clearly next.
A cruel smirk pulled at the other woman's lips as she said, "I'm not attacking anyone." And with that the rats dove at Clarice.
Details. "Hope they're not your friends," Clarice replied, opening a portal as an umbrella-shaped shield and sending many of the rats to their watery grave. That didn't stop them all though and she advanced on the Morlock using her sword to slash and hack at more of the rodents. "Don't make me hurt you," she warned, though she didn't think it would do much good.
"Sure, take their side!" Pester snapped as she pulled the rats back. There were only so many there, she couldn't sacrifice them all. "We're just trying to protect ourselves, they don't need help!"
Did rats count towards her body-count? Probably not. Hopefully not. "It's not about sides!" was she really going to debate the philosophy of all this here and now? "You can't go and hurt humans and expect to be left alone!"
The woman growled and, done with this conversation, sprung into action. She darted behind the purple woman, head butting her in the small of her back.
Clarice was fast, but she wasn't super-human fast. Stumbling forward, she turned, falling into an offensive stance and moving to strike. She didn't like hurting people, especially someone defending her home such as it was, but she wasn't going to let her just attack either!
Pester hissed, and two more rats jumped out of the shadows, aiming for Clarice's face.
Knocking one rat away, the other landed, causing Clarice to ignore the other woman as she tried to get the little vermin off her face. Tugging at it and getting scratched, she tossed it at Pester, not caring if it died or what. "Bitch!" she breathed, following the rat-attack with several well-placed blows. Clarice didn't like to hurt others. That didn't mean she couldn't.
She caught the rat, but the distraction was enough for the punches to land true. One to the face, three more to various parts of her torso, and she gasped as she stumbled, scrambling out of reach.
Clarice advanced on Pester, very deliberately kicking her in the side, before gripping her neck in hand, "You lose," she stated, squeezing just hard enough to get her point across.
Logan meets Tar-Baby and winds up in a sticky situation.
The guy stalking toward him looked like a reject from a paper shredder. Covered in paper strips from who knows where and wearing an eye patch. Who the hell wore an eye patch these days? He didn't smell too nice either. Something like a combo of food just beginning to turn and the lack of access to a good shower. Times were tough after all. Sometimes Logan hated his enhanced senses. "Hey, bub, why don'tcha make this easy and not put up a fight?"
The man just grinned at him, his teeth brilliantly white against the pitch blackness of his face. "Sorry, pal, but we were here first," he replied in a thick New York accent. "And you ain't wanted here."
"In the grand scheme of things, neither of us is wanted right now. And you're bringin' a lot of unwanted attention on us all," Logan growled as he unsheathed his claws then lunged forward to swipe at the man.
Incredibly, the man stepped towards the attack, letting Logan's strike swipe across his torso. Or it started to, at least - the movement was halted by the claws sinking into the sticky, tar-like substance of which the man was apparently composed.
"What the hell...." This didn't happen. The fights Logan was in, things either sliced cleanly through or broke into a million pieces. Sticking never happened. He yanked back hard to pull free, hearing a slick sucking sound as he did so.
His claws only partially escaped, the ends mired in the sticky goo. "Surprise." The man grinned again, reaching out with an elongated arm with an intent to wrap his fingers around Logan's throat.
Logan grunted and tried using the combined force of both pulling back and withdrawing to see if he could work himself free. No way was some walking fly trap going to get the best of him.
Tar-Baby bounced back and forth with the movement, like a balloon on a string being yanked backwards and forwards. It meant he lost his balance and wound up wrapping his fingers around Logan's upper arm and shoulder instead of his neck, but that only served to get Logan even more entangled. The tarry goo stuck to Logan's uniform, his skin and his hair, his claws... and it was slowly inching towards his face.
Logan would need to give himself the best decontamination he'd ever had after this shit show was over. He snarled and twisted his neck and shoulders as much as he could to keep the goo from getting where it obviously wanted to go. He kicked out at the upper leg of the oozing mess of a man, hoping he wasn't getting himself even more wrapped up.
He was, but Tar-Baby had made a discovery. He'd immobilised his foe, yes, but he'd used up all of his body to do it. He couldn't stretch any further, not even to cover Logan's nose and mouth and suffocate him. "Well, fuck," he said, feelingly.
Logan snorted. "Nice stalemate we got goin' on here." He continued to attempt to escape with no luck. Great. He was stuck in a walking talking version of a tar pit with no idea how the hell to get himself out of this. "Any chance you'd make both our lives easier and let me go?"
Force-beam meets electrical beam. It’s painful.
Scott's eyes followed the flow of battle back and forward, looking for that one opportunity or break in the fighting where he could interfere as the two sides raged back and forwards. If there was one thing he'd learned it was there was always an opportunity to shift the course of battle. Perhaps one like that, he thought a force beam spearing out at the fight.
Erg hung back like he'd been told and waited. Life on the streets as a painter made him no slouch in a fight but one's gotta pick and choose their battles. The red beam spearing through the air caught his attention and he chased its path back to its origin. Interlopers were here. Likely sent to destroy them all. He moved forward and crouched behind a container, peering around the corner to fire off an energy blast at the leather clad figure.
It was only pure luck and years of careful training that saved Scott. He hadn't even noticed Erg firing at him, it was just a glint out of the side of his eye, caught in his peripheral vision, that warned him. On pure reflex Scott threw himself backwards to the side hastily snapping a shot back at Erg as he fell out of the way of the energy blast.
Erg hadn't stayed in the same position. He stayed low to the ground as he scampered to the next source of cover and fired back, aiming at the metal surrounding Scott. Contact electrocution was just as good as direct.
His assailant almost had him, Scott realised a split second after he saw the electric attacks. Luckily the X-Man had spent years training with Ororo and knew exactly how dangerous it was to stay anywhere near metal when someone was throwing Electric currents through the air. Hence his headlong dive onto the nearest non-conductor he could see, it may have been a little undignified, but he had a perfect vantage point to attack his opponent. It may not have been a direct line, but it was an easy bankable shot for the X-Man.
Erg scowled and backtracked. He now needed to score direct hits. A better vantage point would help with that but those were in short supply on a boat. He needed to get unseen and unleash everything he had on the interloper. Get them off this boat and leave them to deal with this on their own. The unexpected beam careening off weird angles smacked him flat in the chest and sent him sprawling with his head slamming into a harsh metal corner.
Cautiously Scott approached the downed figure, energy held ready just in case. Playing dead for a later surprise attack was the oldest trick in the book, and not one he intended to fall for, not after doing it himself countless plans before.
Erg groaned. His head throbbed like someone had whacked him with a massive tuning fork. He attempted to push up but the movement was quickly aborted when the world spun like a crazy tilt-a-whirl. He eased himself back down to wait for his head to settle.
Jennie and Sooraya tag-team against the leader of the Morlocks, and find it’s a harder task than expected.
There were no obvious signs of the woman's mutant ability, Sooraya concluded as she took in the situation. Glancing at Jennie, Sooraya shrugged and dissolved into her sand form, diving to see if she could 'pull the carpet' from under the woman's feet as a tentative opening.
The sand swirled around Callisto's feet, this way and that. At first, she felt some give - not a lot, but perhaps a whip would-...
The woman didn't move. Another whip, the other way - faster, harder.
Callisto's feet lifted from beneath her, both at once - she jumped high in the air, above the sudden sandstorm.
So she was strong. And she was fast. Sooraya could deal with strong and fast.
A flash of red burst in the woman's line of sight, and she stumbled on her landing. A figure came at her from the left, a blur of black. Not as strong or as fast as she, but graceful and fluid, hitting her with a powerful series of jabs. Each punch, kick, and block, was designed to test the woman's armor, to see what kind of fight they were up against.
That's why Sooraya had gone first, to test the woman's mutation and how she would react, now Jennie was testing her in combat.
And, as the woman tried to strike back at Jennie, as luck would have it, Jennie was always just frustratingly out of her reach. Callisto didn't seem to tire, didn't seem to hurt, didn't seem to falter, but every single blow it was like Jennie knew before she swung or kicked, and both women could tell Callisto was getting frustrated.
Deciding to change tactics, Sooraya rose upwards. Strong and fast the woman might be, it was hard to hit what you could not see. Suddenly she dove down a little, surrounding Callisto's head with a thick cloud of sand, taking away all her sight.
Seeing that the woman was now blinded, Jennie dropped to kick out her legs from underneath her, hopefully getting her to a place to where she could be pinned into submission. But Jennie had relied on the woman's physical mutation, and when she struck back, she struck back hard. The blow caught her in the ribs with a sickening thud - not cracked, but it was almost as though it was pitched that way, hard and slow, meant to put her out of commission rather than seriously injure.
It winded her, though. Callisto's blows were still telegraphed, still easy enough to predict, but they began to land - not every time, but often enough.
While she continued to attempt to blind her opponent without hurting Jennie, Sooraya focused her attention downwards. Lashing around with sharp tentacles, she set about disturbing Callisto's footing. Hopefully the combination of blinding and trouble with her footing would get the woman to the ground.