![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_bevatron posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logs(logs in progress, to be completed)
Scott goes to check on his pride and joy. He needs Logan's help to get into the hangar, and what he finds there does not spark joy.
Under any other situation Scott might have laughed, mind have found a sliver amusement in his fellow X-man's predicament. Garrison literally had nanobots falling off him, the jokes wrote themselves and Scott wasn't too proud to partake in a little friendly ribbing.
Under any normal time, under any normal circumstances. These weren't normal times at all.
See, if invasive technology was invading the mansion there were only a few places that it could go, and it sounded like the Danger Room was already infected. So, step one determine how far the inspection had gotten, then step two, start fighting back...so he was going to check on the jet.
Of course he was going to check on his jet.
The year was already shaping up to be interesting between the divide between universes coming down and now this. The Danger Room being a target wasn't surprising. That's where their most advanced tech was. The med lab was probably also high on the list as it came to locations. When it came to actual tech, the next thing whoever was attacking them would want to go after would be the jet. Especially since whoever was attacking had done their research.
He nodded at Scott as they converged in one of the hallways leading to the hanger. "Think ya built enough firewalls into the thing to keep it safe?"
"I really hope so but...I mean it's...honestly it's never come up." To say Scott was feeling guilty was an understatement, this was the Blackbird, the main means of moving people around and the creation he probably spent the most time tinkering with. He'd just never thought about the need for an enhanced cybersecurity package before. "I'll tell you what though, after this I'm getting someone to install all the firewalls and filters on her."
Logan shrugged. "It happens. Never coulda expected nanites would be a thing or even want to come after us with everythin' else we got goin' on. We'll get this fixed up now and be better prepared for next time." There was no use in beating themselves up over not expecting something completely unexpected. "I'm sure Kane and the rest of 'em tech types will be more than happy to help ya out."
They reached the doorway to where the hanger was and Logan placed his hand on the access panel to let them in. There was a long pause as it didn't slide open. Logan looked at Scott then back to the panel. He really hoped they wouldn't need to break into their own hanger.
A sigh escaped the man's lips, his brow furrowing forward for a moment as Scott took a step forward, leaning forward to glare at the offending control panel before he tried to press his own hand on it too. Like Logan the brown-haired man found that his touch had little effect, the usual hiss of the door sliding open was conspicuously absent as Scott took a step back, a hand lifted to massage his forehead. He could already feel the beginning of a headache coming in as he glared, as if he could shift the door through sheer willpower alone. Sadly, he hadn't been born psychic and seemed to deflate, waving at the obstacle. "One more expense to add to all this, have at it, I'd probably end up damaging the plane if I tried to blast it open." Though...this didn't exactly bode well.
Logan nodded grimly as he waited for Scott to back away from the doorframe. The nanites were either clearly intelligent or being directed by their controller. Neither option was reassuring. He assessed the door then reached up with extended claws to carve them an entrance. The reinforced steel and electronics made a shrieking, screeching noise as adamantium tore through it. Two swipes down the sides, one across the top, and one across the bottom. The weight of the door was enough to cause him to grunt as he put his shoulder to it and shoved with all his strength. He stepped back, eyeing the widening opening warily, unsure of what the welcome would be on the other side. The door hit the ground with a heavy thud that seemed to echo through the hallway.
Scott peered around the doorframe, eyes narrowed as he took a first cautious step into the hangar. "Ok...looks like we're good so far, the nanites don't seem to have gotten past the door I don't think." The jet being infected was a nightmare but thankfully one that he didn't have to deal with no...The man's thoughts trailed off as he felt a shiver like an icicle running down his spine leaving him shaking in place, his voice barely a whisper as he called back through the door. "Logan...please tell me you smell paint or know about someone pranking me by painting on the jet...please."
Logan stepped into the hangar behind Scott and winced at the sight that greeted him. The matte black of the jet was now mixed with scrawls of silver like someone had splashed paint on it, but in truth the jet was in various stages of having its top layer stripped off. He watched as one of the ragged edges along the edge of the wings grew bigger as they watched. "I'm sorry, Scott. We need to do something."
He glanced around the hangar and ran over to the nearest fire extinguisher. He pried the lock off and headed toward the nearest wing to spray at the nanites. It didn't deter the nanites. They swarmed over each other and seemed to eat away at the jet's metal plating faster than before.
-
Scott has to take drastic actions, and Jean-Phillipe is not about to let him do it alone. Arthur's just along for the field trip. He brought snacks.
"Crisse de câlice de tabarnak d'esti de sacrament, c'est pas possible comment que t'es cave," the liquid syllables rolled off of Jean-Phillipe's tongue as he came dashing into the hangar, still pulling his reinforced X-Men jacket on. Scott was going to crash the Blackbird. That idiot. He was going to need someone with the capability to fry every last system on the jet, and every one of those nanite bastards with them. And he was going to need someone to keep him from breaking his fool neck in the process.
Jean-Phillipe couldn't do much about the second, but he could manage the first. And he didn't plan on letting Scott have any say in the matter.
Scott had checklists for a lot of things, he had checklists for his checklists. People had made fun of him for that more than once but since he was a young man the importance of preparation had been drilled into his head from a young age but...well...he'd never thought he'd need a checklist for how to crash a plane. "Ok, parachute, explosives to blow open the doors...Jean-Phillipe, check and check and check and wait what no." The senior X-man stepped back, turning towards the younger man, "you...no, you're not coming with me. Only one of us needs to get ourselves blown out of the sky."
Arthur waved. "Hey guys!" He had found a chair to sit in wait for these two X-Men, and sat waiting with a coffee in hand. Someone had loaned him a flight jacket quickly, that was obvious, but elsewise he appeared completely unphased by the turn in events. In fact, he gestured down at a bag on the floor. "I grabbed snacks just in case. Also, I was told you'd need..."
A note was produced and summarily handed over to Scott. "Texting's busted, but hey! I volunteer as tribute. Here's my permission slip."
He smiled apologetically, and nodded over at Jean-Phillipe. "Robobugs, huh?"
Jean-Phillipe tried to catch a glimpse of the note as Scott snatched it up, but the other man was too quick. "You are welcome to try and stop me, mon capitan," he replied to Scott's previous remark in a deadly calm tone of voice. "What is your plan for eliminating the nanites?" he asked, pressing through the silence. "If you crash the plane with the nanites still active, they will simply cannibalize the broken pieces and continue whatever it is they are doing."
He dropped himself into the seat across from Arthur and snagged a protein bar from the bag at his feet. "Merci, Arthur, I expect I will be using my power heavily."
Glancing back at where Scott still stood, he snapped his fingers. "Vite, we do not have time to debate. You will not do this on your own, I will not allow it."
There were small events now and then that required a second take, that were so out of the ordinary that you weren't actually sure how to handle it. This was one of those times.
The X-man's eyes blinked once, twice and three times before he managed to shake himself into responding, padding up the ramp after them before he looked back towards the empty hangar, to check if anyone else was going to invite themselves on this suicide mission before settling into the pilot's chair.
"Well...ok."
He wasn't sure what else he could say to that.
-
Scott manages to put the plane down without -completely- demolishing it, and Emma, Angelo, and Meggan rush to the crash to make sure everyone's okay. And that the nanites are wiped out.
Everything was eerily quiet as the plane came down low, and then the ground shook with the impact. The sounds of panicked birds and splintering wood came just before the acrid smell of spilled fuel as a plume of dark grey smoke spiraled up into the sky.
In the unnatural silence following the dispersal of numerous varieties of startled wildlife, Meggan took in the scene carefully. While it was good that nothing had caught on fire, there was still the chance it might happen, given the smells. Those on board needed to be helped before something worse happened than what already was going on.
Angelo was right at her side and moved fast for the door, which was already cracked open. “Guys? Shout if you’re awake.”
A sudden gust of wind caused the billowing smoke to frame the ruins of the blackbird dramatically as a figure emerged almost cinematically from the disaster tableau. This action hero's left eye glowed a piercing yellow as he was revealed, supporting another man propped on his shoulder, in the wreckage. He didn't look backwards as a small pop of an explosion came from the downed jet. Badasses don't look at explosions.
The smoke cleared more to resolve into a blond and a brunet. Too cheerfully, Arthur waved at the rescue team as his hair, far too voluminous for someone who has just been in a plane crash, caught some of the wind like he was in a photo shoot. "Hey guys!"
Jean-Phillipe didn't look nearly as photogenic as Arthur. He looked more like he'd been ridden hard and put away wet, and was leaning very heavily on Arthur as they made their way out. He perked up as much as he was able at the sound of Angelo's voice. He was sure there would be discussions about recklessness later. For now he was just happy to have made it to the ground in one piece. "Hello, dearest," he murmured as he slumped away from Arthur and onto Angelo.
Scott finally emerged, his brown eyes observing the once-proud wreckage of the Blackbird, the jet that har survived countless missions, the best that the greatest villains in the world could throw at it. He'd rebuild it, better than ever but...it was dead for now. A steep, fingertips brushing over the dirt-covered floor for a moment before he reached out to pluck up a scrap of metal that had been thrown from the dashboard, turning it over and over in his hands, not looking up, not reacting. Not just yet.
Emma did a quick telepathic scan of the walking wounded and frowned as her mind ran across Scott’s. It didn’t feel quite right; she was used to a bright, vivid sense of Scott and he felt unreactive, like the world was a bit too far away. “Meggan,” said Emma. “You’re the lightest of us - can you tiptoe into the Blackbird and let us know if there’s anything that seems like to explode or collapse catastrophically? Don’t go in far if it seems dangerous. And Scott,” she said, softly. “Is there any chance you could have a concussion? Or perhaps - you’ve been overtaken by nanites?” She wished desperately for a moment that she had someone with more medical training with her, but she hoped Scott would have some idea of what he was feeling.
“Of course; yes,” Meggan quickly agreed upon hearing Emma's suggestion. She had an idea to go with that, too. There was moving lightly, and then there was the next best thing to that; levitation would not put any pressure onto the metal at all, if it was under such strain. “It will be tiptoeing with a dash of floating, in case it’s really ready to collapse,” she added as she moved towards the entrance to the Blackbird.
The X-man blinked slowly before shaking his head, "No...no nanites." It just all felt so...unreal. This was the blackbird...he'd crashed the blackbird. Now Charles would take away his keys and never let him fly the jet again. "I...I..just tired." Perhaps he could just take a nap here, till this was over, but there would always be another emergency, and another one after that. THere was always one more emergency to deal with and put down. It just never seemed to stop and he was so so tired.
Emma cursed under her breath at both Scott's words and the thoughts he was randomly floating into the atmosphere, like a somewhat untethered balloon. It was definitely a concussion. Concussion irritated Emma; if she absolutely needed to she could use her telepathy and perk you right back up, but she was a telekinetic and she couldn’t fix the physical damage to the brain. Time was the only thing that fixed that. But she slipped her mind into Scott's, bolstering his consciousness, waking him up somewhat. "No sleeping, Scott," she said, briskly. "Not until we’ve got you to a doctor." She looked at what surrounded her a made a couple of quick decisions. "Arthur, could you please help Scott get back to the Mansion; he’s a bit woozy and I don’t want him falling over. Angelo, give me Jean-Phillipe - could you please hover near the door of the Blackbird? If anything starts falling in or exploding, you might be able to reach and help Meggan get out without needing to go in to an unstable structure. I’ll get Jean-Phillipe to a safe distance and then I’ll come back and help."
"You got it. JP - no, come on now, Emma's going to look after you.” He peeled his somewhat exhausted husband's arms off his waist and handed him over, then headed for the plane door. "Megs? You OK in there?"
Meggan was just then starting her way back, through some minor smoke, which was emitted from some of the burned instruments. Just as she opened her mouth to say she was fine so far, Meggan heard an ominous noise in the depths of the Blackbird that wasn’t just the groan of settling metal anymore. It was time to get out, as flames crackled, and erupted. “Nope, everyone out of the way! Fire!” She called as she flew as fast as she could towards the hatch.
Angelo had been watching for this, and instantly lashed out to grab her with as much skin as he could spare then whipped it all back in, pulling her towards him and the door much faster than she could move herself. He was already running before she reached him and the skin strips wrapped her safely against his back.
Emma looked behind her at the sound of the explosion. She'd got a decent distance away from the jet, helping Jean-Phillipe keep his feet. It was far enough that she had time to see Angelo, with a surprised Meggan attached to his back, running at an angle away from the plane, and Arthur and Scott far enough away that the debris was miraculously making a wide curve around them. The wide curve meant, however, that a very large section of jet fuselage was heading at high speed directly at her. With another, significantly more inventive, curse, Emma swung Jean-Phillipe in front of her, then turned to diamond, leaning back into the oncoming explosion.
The large metal plate made a decided clang sound as it hit organic diamond and Emma's boots dug two deep furrows into the ground as the force of the hit drove her forwards, sheltering Jean-Phillipe in front of her. It seemed to take several chaotic seconds and quite a lot of smaller pieces of metal (and possibly some flames) hitting her diamond back before the worst of the shock wave had gone by.
"You okay?" Emma asked Jean-Phillipe, somewhat rhetorically, since his face was only a few inches from her and by its expression he was currently decidedly not dead.
Jean-Phillipe's thought processes were sluggish from powers overuse, and he was still catching up to things as Emma asked the question of him. He blinked owlishly, ears ringing from the explosion. "I am. Merci, Emma." He detached himself from her and sat down on the ground, his legs collapsing a bit but still at least somewhat under control. "Go, check the others."
There were people moving around him, voices talking words that he knew he should respond to. It just felt so far away, like whispers on the wind. All Scott really wanted to do was look at the wreckage in front of him, the piece of metal he was turning over and over in his hands. "I'm sorry, I didn't have a choice." He heard movement behind him, glancing back to see Jean-Phillipe settling down on the ground as he paced back. "I didn't break you too did I? I broke the blackbird too...you're not allowed to go boom like it." He could fix a plane...maybe...he knew he couldn't fix his friend though.
Scott goes to check on his pride and joy. He needs Logan's help to get into the hangar, and what he finds there does not spark joy.
Under any other situation Scott might have laughed, mind have found a sliver amusement in his fellow X-man's predicament. Garrison literally had nanobots falling off him, the jokes wrote themselves and Scott wasn't too proud to partake in a little friendly ribbing.
Under any normal time, under any normal circumstances. These weren't normal times at all.
See, if invasive technology was invading the mansion there were only a few places that it could go, and it sounded like the Danger Room was already infected. So, step one determine how far the inspection had gotten, then step two, start fighting back...so he was going to check on the jet.
Of course he was going to check on his jet.
The year was already shaping up to be interesting between the divide between universes coming down and now this. The Danger Room being a target wasn't surprising. That's where their most advanced tech was. The med lab was probably also high on the list as it came to locations. When it came to actual tech, the next thing whoever was attacking them would want to go after would be the jet. Especially since whoever was attacking had done their research.
He nodded at Scott as they converged in one of the hallways leading to the hanger. "Think ya built enough firewalls into the thing to keep it safe?"
"I really hope so but...I mean it's...honestly it's never come up." To say Scott was feeling guilty was an understatement, this was the Blackbird, the main means of moving people around and the creation he probably spent the most time tinkering with. He'd just never thought about the need for an enhanced cybersecurity package before. "I'll tell you what though, after this I'm getting someone to install all the firewalls and filters on her."
Logan shrugged. "It happens. Never coulda expected nanites would be a thing or even want to come after us with everythin' else we got goin' on. We'll get this fixed up now and be better prepared for next time." There was no use in beating themselves up over not expecting something completely unexpected. "I'm sure Kane and the rest of 'em tech types will be more than happy to help ya out."
They reached the doorway to where the hanger was and Logan placed his hand on the access panel to let them in. There was a long pause as it didn't slide open. Logan looked at Scott then back to the panel. He really hoped they wouldn't need to break into their own hanger.
A sigh escaped the man's lips, his brow furrowing forward for a moment as Scott took a step forward, leaning forward to glare at the offending control panel before he tried to press his own hand on it too. Like Logan the brown-haired man found that his touch had little effect, the usual hiss of the door sliding open was conspicuously absent as Scott took a step back, a hand lifted to massage his forehead. He could already feel the beginning of a headache coming in as he glared, as if he could shift the door through sheer willpower alone. Sadly, he hadn't been born psychic and seemed to deflate, waving at the obstacle. "One more expense to add to all this, have at it, I'd probably end up damaging the plane if I tried to blast it open." Though...this didn't exactly bode well.
Logan nodded grimly as he waited for Scott to back away from the doorframe. The nanites were either clearly intelligent or being directed by their controller. Neither option was reassuring. He assessed the door then reached up with extended claws to carve them an entrance. The reinforced steel and electronics made a shrieking, screeching noise as adamantium tore through it. Two swipes down the sides, one across the top, and one across the bottom. The weight of the door was enough to cause him to grunt as he put his shoulder to it and shoved with all his strength. He stepped back, eyeing the widening opening warily, unsure of what the welcome would be on the other side. The door hit the ground with a heavy thud that seemed to echo through the hallway.
Scott peered around the doorframe, eyes narrowed as he took a first cautious step into the hangar. "Ok...looks like we're good so far, the nanites don't seem to have gotten past the door I don't think." The jet being infected was a nightmare but thankfully one that he didn't have to deal with no...The man's thoughts trailed off as he felt a shiver like an icicle running down his spine leaving him shaking in place, his voice barely a whisper as he called back through the door. "Logan...please tell me you smell paint or know about someone pranking me by painting on the jet...please."
Logan stepped into the hangar behind Scott and winced at the sight that greeted him. The matte black of the jet was now mixed with scrawls of silver like someone had splashed paint on it, but in truth the jet was in various stages of having its top layer stripped off. He watched as one of the ragged edges along the edge of the wings grew bigger as they watched. "I'm sorry, Scott. We need to do something."
He glanced around the hangar and ran over to the nearest fire extinguisher. He pried the lock off and headed toward the nearest wing to spray at the nanites. It didn't deter the nanites. They swarmed over each other and seemed to eat away at the jet's metal plating faster than before.
-
Scott has to take drastic actions, and Jean-Phillipe is not about to let him do it alone. Arthur's just along for the field trip. He brought snacks.
"Crisse de câlice de tabarnak d'esti de sacrament, c'est pas possible comment que t'es cave," the liquid syllables rolled off of Jean-Phillipe's tongue as he came dashing into the hangar, still pulling his reinforced X-Men jacket on. Scott was going to crash the Blackbird. That idiot. He was going to need someone with the capability to fry every last system on the jet, and every one of those nanite bastards with them. And he was going to need someone to keep him from breaking his fool neck in the process.
Jean-Phillipe couldn't do much about the second, but he could manage the first. And he didn't plan on letting Scott have any say in the matter.
Scott had checklists for a lot of things, he had checklists for his checklists. People had made fun of him for that more than once but since he was a young man the importance of preparation had been drilled into his head from a young age but...well...he'd never thought he'd need a checklist for how to crash a plane. "Ok, parachute, explosives to blow open the doors...Jean-Phillipe, check and check and check and wait what no." The senior X-man stepped back, turning towards the younger man, "you...no, you're not coming with me. Only one of us needs to get ourselves blown out of the sky."
Arthur waved. "Hey guys!" He had found a chair to sit in wait for these two X-Men, and sat waiting with a coffee in hand. Someone had loaned him a flight jacket quickly, that was obvious, but elsewise he appeared completely unphased by the turn in events. In fact, he gestured down at a bag on the floor. "I grabbed snacks just in case. Also, I was told you'd need..."
A note was produced and summarily handed over to Scott. "Texting's busted, but hey! I volunteer as tribute. Here's my permission slip."
He smiled apologetically, and nodded over at Jean-Phillipe. "Robobugs, huh?"
Jean-Phillipe tried to catch a glimpse of the note as Scott snatched it up, but the other man was too quick. "You are welcome to try and stop me, mon capitan," he replied to Scott's previous remark in a deadly calm tone of voice. "What is your plan for eliminating the nanites?" he asked, pressing through the silence. "If you crash the plane with the nanites still active, they will simply cannibalize the broken pieces and continue whatever it is they are doing."
He dropped himself into the seat across from Arthur and snagged a protein bar from the bag at his feet. "Merci, Arthur, I expect I will be using my power heavily."
Glancing back at where Scott still stood, he snapped his fingers. "Vite, we do not have time to debate. You will not do this on your own, I will not allow it."
There were small events now and then that required a second take, that were so out of the ordinary that you weren't actually sure how to handle it. This was one of those times.
The X-man's eyes blinked once, twice and three times before he managed to shake himself into responding, padding up the ramp after them before he looked back towards the empty hangar, to check if anyone else was going to invite themselves on this suicide mission before settling into the pilot's chair.
"Well...ok."
He wasn't sure what else he could say to that.
-
Scott manages to put the plane down without -completely- demolishing it, and Emma, Angelo, and Meggan rush to the crash to make sure everyone's okay. And that the nanites are wiped out.
Everything was eerily quiet as the plane came down low, and then the ground shook with the impact. The sounds of panicked birds and splintering wood came just before the acrid smell of spilled fuel as a plume of dark grey smoke spiraled up into the sky.
In the unnatural silence following the dispersal of numerous varieties of startled wildlife, Meggan took in the scene carefully. While it was good that nothing had caught on fire, there was still the chance it might happen, given the smells. Those on board needed to be helped before something worse happened than what already was going on.
Angelo was right at her side and moved fast for the door, which was already cracked open. “Guys? Shout if you’re awake.”
A sudden gust of wind caused the billowing smoke to frame the ruins of the blackbird dramatically as a figure emerged almost cinematically from the disaster tableau. This action hero's left eye glowed a piercing yellow as he was revealed, supporting another man propped on his shoulder, in the wreckage. He didn't look backwards as a small pop of an explosion came from the downed jet. Badasses don't look at explosions.
The smoke cleared more to resolve into a blond and a brunet. Too cheerfully, Arthur waved at the rescue team as his hair, far too voluminous for someone who has just been in a plane crash, caught some of the wind like he was in a photo shoot. "Hey guys!"
Jean-Phillipe didn't look nearly as photogenic as Arthur. He looked more like he'd been ridden hard and put away wet, and was leaning very heavily on Arthur as they made their way out. He perked up as much as he was able at the sound of Angelo's voice. He was sure there would be discussions about recklessness later. For now he was just happy to have made it to the ground in one piece. "Hello, dearest," he murmured as he slumped away from Arthur and onto Angelo.
Scott finally emerged, his brown eyes observing the once-proud wreckage of the Blackbird, the jet that har survived countless missions, the best that the greatest villains in the world could throw at it. He'd rebuild it, better than ever but...it was dead for now. A steep, fingertips brushing over the dirt-covered floor for a moment before he reached out to pluck up a scrap of metal that had been thrown from the dashboard, turning it over and over in his hands, not looking up, not reacting. Not just yet.
Emma did a quick telepathic scan of the walking wounded and frowned as her mind ran across Scott’s. It didn’t feel quite right; she was used to a bright, vivid sense of Scott and he felt unreactive, like the world was a bit too far away. “Meggan,” said Emma. “You’re the lightest of us - can you tiptoe into the Blackbird and let us know if there’s anything that seems like to explode or collapse catastrophically? Don’t go in far if it seems dangerous. And Scott,” she said, softly. “Is there any chance you could have a concussion? Or perhaps - you’ve been overtaken by nanites?” She wished desperately for a moment that she had someone with more medical training with her, but she hoped Scott would have some idea of what he was feeling.
“Of course; yes,” Meggan quickly agreed upon hearing Emma's suggestion. She had an idea to go with that, too. There was moving lightly, and then there was the next best thing to that; levitation would not put any pressure onto the metal at all, if it was under such strain. “It will be tiptoeing with a dash of floating, in case it’s really ready to collapse,” she added as she moved towards the entrance to the Blackbird.
The X-man blinked slowly before shaking his head, "No...no nanites." It just all felt so...unreal. This was the blackbird...he'd crashed the blackbird. Now Charles would take away his keys and never let him fly the jet again. "I...I..just tired." Perhaps he could just take a nap here, till this was over, but there would always be another emergency, and another one after that. THere was always one more emergency to deal with and put down. It just never seemed to stop and he was so so tired.
Emma cursed under her breath at both Scott's words and the thoughts he was randomly floating into the atmosphere, like a somewhat untethered balloon. It was definitely a concussion. Concussion irritated Emma; if she absolutely needed to she could use her telepathy and perk you right back up, but she was a telekinetic and she couldn’t fix the physical damage to the brain. Time was the only thing that fixed that. But she slipped her mind into Scott's, bolstering his consciousness, waking him up somewhat. "No sleeping, Scott," she said, briskly. "Not until we’ve got you to a doctor." She looked at what surrounded her a made a couple of quick decisions. "Arthur, could you please help Scott get back to the Mansion; he’s a bit woozy and I don’t want him falling over. Angelo, give me Jean-Phillipe - could you please hover near the door of the Blackbird? If anything starts falling in or exploding, you might be able to reach and help Meggan get out without needing to go in to an unstable structure. I’ll get Jean-Phillipe to a safe distance and then I’ll come back and help."
"You got it. JP - no, come on now, Emma's going to look after you.” He peeled his somewhat exhausted husband's arms off his waist and handed him over, then headed for the plane door. "Megs? You OK in there?"
Meggan was just then starting her way back, through some minor smoke, which was emitted from some of the burned instruments. Just as she opened her mouth to say she was fine so far, Meggan heard an ominous noise in the depths of the Blackbird that wasn’t just the groan of settling metal anymore. It was time to get out, as flames crackled, and erupted. “Nope, everyone out of the way! Fire!” She called as she flew as fast as she could towards the hatch.
Angelo had been watching for this, and instantly lashed out to grab her with as much skin as he could spare then whipped it all back in, pulling her towards him and the door much faster than she could move herself. He was already running before she reached him and the skin strips wrapped her safely against his back.
Emma looked behind her at the sound of the explosion. She'd got a decent distance away from the jet, helping Jean-Phillipe keep his feet. It was far enough that she had time to see Angelo, with a surprised Meggan attached to his back, running at an angle away from the plane, and Arthur and Scott far enough away that the debris was miraculously making a wide curve around them. The wide curve meant, however, that a very large section of jet fuselage was heading at high speed directly at her. With another, significantly more inventive, curse, Emma swung Jean-Phillipe in front of her, then turned to diamond, leaning back into the oncoming explosion.
The large metal plate made a decided clang sound as it hit organic diamond and Emma's boots dug two deep furrows into the ground as the force of the hit drove her forwards, sheltering Jean-Phillipe in front of her. It seemed to take several chaotic seconds and quite a lot of smaller pieces of metal (and possibly some flames) hitting her diamond back before the worst of the shock wave had gone by.
"You okay?" Emma asked Jean-Phillipe, somewhat rhetorically, since his face was only a few inches from her and by its expression he was currently decidedly not dead.
Jean-Phillipe's thought processes were sluggish from powers overuse, and he was still catching up to things as Emma asked the question of him. He blinked owlishly, ears ringing from the explosion. "I am. Merci, Emma." He detached himself from her and sat down on the ground, his legs collapsing a bit but still at least somewhat under control. "Go, check the others."
There were people moving around him, voices talking words that he knew he should respond to. It just felt so far away, like whispers on the wind. All Scott really wanted to do was look at the wreckage in front of him, the piece of metal he was turning over and over in his hands. "I'm sorry, I didn't have a choice." He heard movement behind him, glancing back to see Jean-Phillipe settling down on the ground as he paced back. "I didn't break you too did I? I broke the blackbird too...you're not allowed to go boom like it." He could fix a plane...maybe...he knew he couldn't fix his friend though.
