xp_logs | Behold A Red Horse

Emma and Topaz reach the infected, only to find nothing left to save.

The closer they got to the police and military cordon, the louder the sounds of battle. Not a modern battleground, with its whining bullets and crack of artillery. It was something more ancient; more visceral. A sound that the oldest parts of their brains associated with the earliest days as semi-intelligent primates. The sound of war, as one group of creatures, howling and wielding anything that came to hand, charged another with the sole purpose of ending their lives or dying themselves.

Six medics tried to hold down a trashing woman, who kicked and bit and screamed with an animal fury. She didn’t even notice as her struggles broke her wrist and tore the bone through the skin. One of the men was openly weeping as he screamed at her to stop; to let them help. She partially tore off her hand stabbing him in the cheek with the broken bone as their guide led them past and right up to the long thin line of riot police and soldiers behind shields.

“This is as far as we go. Every time we cross this line, for whatever reason, they stop attacking each other and come at us. Every. Time.” Her Spanish was glorious, liquid, old and aristocratic, and wholly unsuited to the carnage she pointed out.

Topaz had seen a lot of fights, and a lot of disturbing things, but the scene before her definitely ranked near the top. The buzz in her mind was complete rage - usually it was a fairly even mix of things, even if one emotion was more dominant. But this was rage, through and through. It was so loud that it almost drowned out the desperation and confusion of the first responders. She looked at Emma, tilting her head in a "are you seeing this?" way.

“I was in Barcelona,” Emma said, an inconsequential observation, “in the most delightful hotel room overlooking La Sagrada. I’d just had the most delicious selection of viennoiserie delivered when Kevin rang.” She sighed. “This… melee was not in my afternoon plans.” She drew herself up, sharpening her focus. “This doesn’t even look human,” she said. “What are you feeling, Topaz?”

"Anger," was the simple answer. "But not... it's not normal. Humans are normally more complex than this. This is just anger. They don't even care about their own safety."

“I think I remember that movie,” said Emma. “I’m going to try and reach in, see if I can send them… somewhere. Safe. For them. Or the people trying to stop them. Whichever.”

Emma took a deep breath, drew all of her focus together. Crowds were easy, she knew that. She had directed thousands of people almost without effort in the past, the human desire to follow amplifying her reach until she could become their conductor, play them like a symphony.

This did not feel like that.

Then she reached out with her power and looked for a mind, a thought to direct.

There were none.

Not a thought. Not a single mind that felt human. Just a maelstrom, half thoughts, raging, tearing, wanting, ripping, shredding, screaming, screaming, screaming. For a moment, Emma felt herself falling into the hurricane that raged and screamed and fought without thinking, felt herself disappearing into non-thought.

Until she ripped herself out.

Emma drew a great breath, shuddered for a second and then calmed herself instantly. “Well, yes,” she said to Topaz. “Apparently trying to control their thoughts won’t work, because there’s not a single thought amongst the lot of them.”

Topaz reached out to steady Emma. She'd gotten a passing feel of the telepathic onslaught, and that was more than enough. "Regular crowd control won't work, then," she said, looking at the rioting crowd. "I don't think there's anything we can do."

“Maybe,” Emma tapped her chin thoughtfully, “maybe there’s not anything we can do to fix them. But we might be able to make it easier for those who would contain them.” She glanced at Topaz. “How would you feel about letting me direct your power?”

She tilted her head, thinking for a moment. "I think that'd be fine. What're you thinking?"

Emma gave the ravening crowd a considered look. “Their movements are as unpredictable as their minds,” she said, quick slashes with her fingers showing where the crowd ebbed and swelled and flowed, without direction. “My powers won’t affect them; there are no thoughts there to direct. But if you can… catch that rage, I may be able to slip into your mind, direct their emotions in one direction. At the least, it may take them away from any unaffected civilians, help the police try and corral them.” She sighed suddenly. “I don’t think we can stop them tearing themselves apart, but if we can prevent other casualties…” Her voice trailed off.

"If there are any left who aren't affected," Topaz said, scanning the crowd. It was hard to imagine that if anyone had escaped this, they were still alive. "Yeah, that should work, though. Whenever you're ready."

Emma took a breath and a moment to scan the minds of various emergency personnel who were closest to the… event. “There’s a square,” she said. “Just down that small street.” She pointed at the one she meant. “Just give me a few moments…” she stopped talking to Topaz, cast her mind out, sowed instructions here and there and there again. “Alright,” she said when she brought her mind back to her body. “The residents will be out in a few minutes, I’ve organised the reinforcements to get barriers up around the square - it’ll be empty and able to keep them captive for as long as needed within the next few minutes. All we need to do is get all of those… infected, to head down that street. At the least, it will keep the other casualties from mounting. If you can… gather them up now, I’ll help you push them the right way.”

Topaz thought for a moment, eyes still moving. The rage was all-consuming, but it was also... directionless. They were just fighting. Tweaking emotions was pretty basic. Make someone want to do something else, go a different way. She just needed to make sure nothing bled back into her.

Okay. She cast a wide net out over the group, trying to rope as many people as she could. She could feel the anger as she worked, but it was wrong. Static. She thought about how people could go into town without being infected by whatever this was. It wasn't trying to spread. It just was.

But it was still a lot of people and still a lot to wrangle. "Ready when you are," she reported through slightly gritted teeth.

Emma slipped her mind into Topaz’s, felt the jolt of all of that anger surge into her, caught and held in the dextrous net of Topaz’s power. It was akin to her own telepathy but utterly alien as well and Emma shuddered for a second at the rawness of it all.

But she had slipped into enough mutant minds in her time, found ways to use and enhance the powers of others, that Emma felt no qualms at doing it again. For a moment, she let her own powers roam within Topaz’s mind, feel what the younger mutant felt. It wasn’t a crowd any more, had no thoughts to make it one. Not even a mob. A flock of rabid sheep, maybe. A school of fish, trapped and thrashing. All she needed was to give them direction.

Emma wrapped the tendrils of her power within Topaz’s woven net, gathered it into her experienced hands. Draw the power, here, here, here, tighter and tighter in one area, heightening the rage, feeling it swell as it fought against Topaz’s web.

~Here,~ Emma said into Topaz’s mind, showing her a picture of what she wanted. ~There’s too much pressure here now. You’re right; there is inertia. But if you help me push… here and open the net… here… I think we can drive them down that street.~ Emma’s picture of what she wanted, how she could help Topaz was precise in Topaz’s mind.

Topaz could see the plan laid out in her mind, and tweaked her net in the right places. She caught a quick flash of Emma's uneasiness, but it barely registered. Empathy wasn't for everyone.

The crowd began to close in, still fighting and ripping each other apart, but it was like they were being coaxed along while they fought. Like a plow gathering snow. It was slow, but they were moving in the intended direction.

Emma kept her power weaving through Topaz’s mind, shoring it up here and there, helping push the fighting mass down the street she’d identified. It felt slow, steady, controlled, until it wasn’t. With a last rush, the crowd suddenly gathered momentum, and disappeared in a rolling brawl into the square. Emma brushed her mind against the Guardia Civil who were waiting, felt them moving barricades and barriers into place, trapping the raging mass away from the non-infected.

“Well, that’s done,” said Emma, slowly, withdrawing her power from Topaz’s mind.

"Feels like we didn't figure much out," Topaz said, looking down the street in the direction they had sent the mob. "Still no idea what's causing this."

“I don’t think that’s a job for here and now,” replied Emma. “You’re right; it’s not like anything I’ve felt or seen before. And in the circumstances, I think our powers are best suited to trying to help those who have been hurt, rather than those doing the hurting.” She stared into space for a moment. “There was nothing there, Topaz. Nothing left to bring back. Let’s get those here away; they don’t need to see how this ends. Because it’s not going to end well.”

Topaz saw the almost haunted look on Emma's face. Nothing left to bring back. It bothered her. She'd never met anything that far gone, not even the creatures in the Dark Dimension. There was always something. "You're right," she said, turning away and trying not to think too hard about it. "Let's get to work."