Genesis - Part Three
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xp_logsA battle ensues as the Wormhole's latest ejectee attempts to flee.
Illyana’s arrival had triggered something in their visitor, as it was clear she had been holding back before as a wash of power flowed over the room. The girl herself rolled away from the Soulsword and was upright in an instant, feet lifted off the ground, eyes alight.
The floor became fluid, moving in waves that made it hard to stand, and the instruments and walls began to contort. While just drawn to her before, the objects in the room now responded to her, pulsing with life.
Marius, a man who had not expected to need sea legs today, flung out his arms in an attempt to maintain his balance. "Here, watch out," he called, "she . . . er . . ."
The Australian stopped. Since his manifestation nearly two decades ago he had amassed a considerable reference point from which to identify mutations, but he was drawing a blank. He could perceive some vague commonality with matter and/or energy manipulation, but anything more precise returned a series of question marks. He couldn't help but recall the parable about the three blind men trying to describe an elephant based solely on an individual appendage.
Then the girl turned her gaze on him, and Marius found himself reminded of elephants for a different reason: their capacity for violence when angered.
A vicious flash of what could have been recognition crossed her features, and the full force of that energy focused on him. The ground beneath him became like quicksand, pulling him downward at a rapid speed.
The X-Man yelped with all the dignity one might expect from someone who now found the ground on which they stood had decided to experience life as a liquid. Instinctively he held his breath, anticipating the moment the linoleum would close over his head -- only to find his descent suddenly arrested just as the floor swallowed his shoulders.
Namor, meanwhile, was a man born with one leg in the sea and another in the air. He'd kicked off into a hover as soon as the floor began to change. The once-king held off extending his own trident, but held it as a symbol. A scepter. He extended the other hand as if addressing a guest.
"Stand down, stranger," he began. "While we welcome you within the borders of this place . . ." Namor's voice was cool and level, but his grip tightened in anticipation. " . . . that is enough."
It was then that a sharp hiss emerged as the automatic quarantine procedure for the basement finished sealing off the control room and science labs individually from the wormhole chamber, and a cheerful series of lights began to flash around what security equipment still functioned.
A series of circles that seemed decorative along the walls suddenly clanked to life, spewing foam toward their would-be intruder to try to lock her in place.
Molly squinted, fingers poised over other measures. "Think that worked?"
The foam barely stood a chance, burned away before it could even reach the girl. It would take much more than that to stop her.
Ignoring Namor and Molly, she’d set her sights skyward. If forward wasn’t an option, up would do just fine. The ceiling parted layers of reinforced concrete for her, and as soon as the hole was wide enough, she was taking off through it like a bat out of hell.
A twist of the wrist and a flash of gold, and Namor let out a private sigh as his trident was poised to strike. There was an extended moment of slowed time as he locked eyes with everyone in the room .
"So much for hospitality and trial runs," was the thought spared for Molly.
A small snicker for Marius. Upsides. He gave the Atlantean version of a thumbs up.
It was to Illyana he actually spoke, and his eyes were cold. "Intercept her. I will flank."
Namor kicked off an invisible foothold in the air. In a blur, he was in pursuit.
The clanging of trident hitting something could be heard from the basement, as well as the murmur of speech, and what could have been furniture being hurled around. Namor had seemingly engaged, and their visitor was not giving him an easy fight.
Illyana spared a brief look to Marius, then held out her unarmored hand to Molly. "As brother would say... Is time for fastball special, da? Portal, flank, toss, engage."
Molly grinned, taking Illyana's hand. "You bet. Let's do it, Magic Sword Lady." This was going to be fun.
There was a flash as the portal popped up, and Illyana poked her head in just far enough to gauge the angle before pulling herself and Molly through. The portal winked out behind them, leaving Marius alone.
The intruder - another obnoxious slip of a girl causing far more damage than she had the right to wield in offense, considering this was home for dozens of people - seemingly had the upper hand on Namor. Somehow. Illyana pursed her lips in annoyance, then lifted Molly by the waist, holding her steady as she took a deep breath and launched the other woman directly at the intruder. Fastball special, javelin edition.
That done, she grabbed her sword and waded into battle.
Their pink-haired visitor had seemingly turned the very fabric of the room against Namor, bands of material snaking around him and rooting him to one of the walls. She eyed him like he was a particularly interesting butterfly pinned to a board. Her glow seemed far dimmer now, blood dripping from her nose, and she made a pained noise when Molly collided, throwing them both across the room.
The king, meanwhile, was practically vibrating with fury in his bonds – metal and stone woven like a tapestry to bind and pin – his very wings stretched out as if for study. Namor was growling in something decidedly not English, and not kind.
He was, much like Marius below, effectively restrained and out of the fight.
Hopping up to stand, Molly dusted herself off and clenched her fists.
"Okay, Princess Bubblegum, I'm gonna need you to knock...whatever that is...off," she said. Quickly putting a set of goggles over her eyes, she tossed something small and metallic at Gaia's feet. It set off a flash of light intended to temporarily blind her.
Molly then aimed a sweeping kick to try to knock her off her feet.
What had been a deliberate and controlled manipulation of the matter around her turned random and erratic as the girl clutched her eyes and fell backwards. An uncoordinated pair of chairs lashed out at Molly, attempting to latch around her legs and anchor her to the floor.
She took this as an opportunity to try and dash around as the woman was occupied, still half blind but intent on her course towards the door.
"What the truck?!" Molly said, startled and thoroughly distracted by the now alive chair. She swung a punch at it.
"We are not in Beauty in the Beast!"
The furniture apparently didn’t get the memo. As a nearby desk joined the fray against Molly, the girl launched herself off a rogue copier and headed towards what she thought was a straight shot out of the chapel.
Illyana's portal opened just enough for the pissed off Queen of Limbo to reach her armored hand through, grab the stranger's ankle, and yank, pulling her backwards through the tiny space and back into fighting range. "Nyet." One word, practically spit out, and a booted foot tapping angrily on the floor. "You do not have permission to exit building. You will cease fighting and submit to questions, or will be forced to take. your. head. Make wise choice, interloper." Her body settles into a ready position, whether that means fight, port, or restrain. The interloper stops here.
The body language of the girl was all feral animal, fight or flight. She grabbed a handful of what was floor a moment ago and threw it at the Queen’s face in an attempt at diversion, yanking her foot and rolling away. A force launched her up into the air and onto the high ceiling, away from the reach of swords and fists. Upside down, she tried for the door again.
A portal formed between the girl and the door, and Illyana got half of her body out before it was twisting around her, making her trip and fall out of the girl's path. The portal twisted and writhed around her as she struggled fruitlessly. Her burning, angry eyes promised retribution for this humiliation, and the overlay of the demonic visage that lurked beneath flashed around her body in a bright nimbus before receding into her body.
As this was happening, the visitor dropped from the ceiling, hard. Blood was dripping from both nostrils now, and there was a large crack as she hit the ground. Her pilgrimage to the door neared its end, however, as she practically limped the rest of the way. She spared a glance back at Illyana and Namor and Molly, triumphant, before nearly blowing the doors off their hinges with a touch.
And then she was gone into the light, leaving the wreckage in her wake.
Illyana’s arrival had triggered something in their visitor, as it was clear she had been holding back before as a wash of power flowed over the room. The girl herself rolled away from the Soulsword and was upright in an instant, feet lifted off the ground, eyes alight.
The floor became fluid, moving in waves that made it hard to stand, and the instruments and walls began to contort. While just drawn to her before, the objects in the room now responded to her, pulsing with life.
Marius, a man who had not expected to need sea legs today, flung out his arms in an attempt to maintain his balance. "Here, watch out," he called, "she . . . er . . ."
The Australian stopped. Since his manifestation nearly two decades ago he had amassed a considerable reference point from which to identify mutations, but he was drawing a blank. He could perceive some vague commonality with matter and/or energy manipulation, but anything more precise returned a series of question marks. He couldn't help but recall the parable about the three blind men trying to describe an elephant based solely on an individual appendage.
Then the girl turned her gaze on him, and Marius found himself reminded of elephants for a different reason: their capacity for violence when angered.
A vicious flash of what could have been recognition crossed her features, and the full force of that energy focused on him. The ground beneath him became like quicksand, pulling him downward at a rapid speed.
The X-Man yelped with all the dignity one might expect from someone who now found the ground on which they stood had decided to experience life as a liquid. Instinctively he held his breath, anticipating the moment the linoleum would close over his head -- only to find his descent suddenly arrested just as the floor swallowed his shoulders.
Namor, meanwhile, was a man born with one leg in the sea and another in the air. He'd kicked off into a hover as soon as the floor began to change. The once-king held off extending his own trident, but held it as a symbol. A scepter. He extended the other hand as if addressing a guest.
"Stand down, stranger," he began. "While we welcome you within the borders of this place . . ." Namor's voice was cool and level, but his grip tightened in anticipation. " . . . that is enough."
It was then that a sharp hiss emerged as the automatic quarantine procedure for the basement finished sealing off the control room and science labs individually from the wormhole chamber, and a cheerful series of lights began to flash around what security equipment still functioned.
A series of circles that seemed decorative along the walls suddenly clanked to life, spewing foam toward their would-be intruder to try to lock her in place.
Molly squinted, fingers poised over other measures. "Think that worked?"
The foam barely stood a chance, burned away before it could even reach the girl. It would take much more than that to stop her.
Ignoring Namor and Molly, she’d set her sights skyward. If forward wasn’t an option, up would do just fine. The ceiling parted layers of reinforced concrete for her, and as soon as the hole was wide enough, she was taking off through it like a bat out of hell.
A twist of the wrist and a flash of gold, and Namor let out a private sigh as his trident was poised to strike. There was an extended moment of slowed time as he locked eyes with everyone in the room .
"So much for hospitality and trial runs," was the thought spared for Molly.
A small snicker for Marius. Upsides. He gave the Atlantean version of a thumbs up.
It was to Illyana he actually spoke, and his eyes were cold. "Intercept her. I will flank."
Namor kicked off an invisible foothold in the air. In a blur, he was in pursuit.
The clanging of trident hitting something could be heard from the basement, as well as the murmur of speech, and what could have been furniture being hurled around. Namor had seemingly engaged, and their visitor was not giving him an easy fight.
Illyana spared a brief look to Marius, then held out her unarmored hand to Molly. "As brother would say... Is time for fastball special, da? Portal, flank, toss, engage."
Molly grinned, taking Illyana's hand. "You bet. Let's do it, Magic Sword Lady." This was going to be fun.
There was a flash as the portal popped up, and Illyana poked her head in just far enough to gauge the angle before pulling herself and Molly through. The portal winked out behind them, leaving Marius alone.
The intruder - another obnoxious slip of a girl causing far more damage than she had the right to wield in offense, considering this was home for dozens of people - seemingly had the upper hand on Namor. Somehow. Illyana pursed her lips in annoyance, then lifted Molly by the waist, holding her steady as she took a deep breath and launched the other woman directly at the intruder. Fastball special, javelin edition.
That done, she grabbed her sword and waded into battle.
Their pink-haired visitor had seemingly turned the very fabric of the room against Namor, bands of material snaking around him and rooting him to one of the walls. She eyed him like he was a particularly interesting butterfly pinned to a board. Her glow seemed far dimmer now, blood dripping from her nose, and she made a pained noise when Molly collided, throwing them both across the room.
The king, meanwhile, was practically vibrating with fury in his bonds – metal and stone woven like a tapestry to bind and pin – his very wings stretched out as if for study. Namor was growling in something decidedly not English, and not kind.
He was, much like Marius below, effectively restrained and out of the fight.
Hopping up to stand, Molly dusted herself off and clenched her fists.
"Okay, Princess Bubblegum, I'm gonna need you to knock...whatever that is...off," she said. Quickly putting a set of goggles over her eyes, she tossed something small and metallic at Gaia's feet. It set off a flash of light intended to temporarily blind her.
Molly then aimed a sweeping kick to try to knock her off her feet.
What had been a deliberate and controlled manipulation of the matter around her turned random and erratic as the girl clutched her eyes and fell backwards. An uncoordinated pair of chairs lashed out at Molly, attempting to latch around her legs and anchor her to the floor.
She took this as an opportunity to try and dash around as the woman was occupied, still half blind but intent on her course towards the door.
"What the truck?!" Molly said, startled and thoroughly distracted by the now alive chair. She swung a punch at it.
"We are not in Beauty in the Beast!"
The furniture apparently didn’t get the memo. As a nearby desk joined the fray against Molly, the girl launched herself off a rogue copier and headed towards what she thought was a straight shot out of the chapel.
Illyana's portal opened just enough for the pissed off Queen of Limbo to reach her armored hand through, grab the stranger's ankle, and yank, pulling her backwards through the tiny space and back into fighting range. "Nyet." One word, practically spit out, and a booted foot tapping angrily on the floor. "You do not have permission to exit building. You will cease fighting and submit to questions, or will be forced to take. your. head. Make wise choice, interloper." Her body settles into a ready position, whether that means fight, port, or restrain. The interloper stops here.
The body language of the girl was all feral animal, fight or flight. She grabbed a handful of what was floor a moment ago and threw it at the Queen’s face in an attempt at diversion, yanking her foot and rolling away. A force launched her up into the air and onto the high ceiling, away from the reach of swords and fists. Upside down, she tried for the door again.
A portal formed between the girl and the door, and Illyana got half of her body out before it was twisting around her, making her trip and fall out of the girl's path. The portal twisted and writhed around her as she struggled fruitlessly. Her burning, angry eyes promised retribution for this humiliation, and the overlay of the demonic visage that lurked beneath flashed around her body in a bright nimbus before receding into her body.
As this was happening, the visitor dropped from the ceiling, hard. Blood was dripping from both nostrils now, and there was a large crack as she hit the ground. Her pilgrimage to the door neared its end, however, as she practically limped the rest of the way. She spared a glance back at Illyana and Namor and Molly, triumphant, before nearly blowing the doors off their hinges with a touch.
And then she was gone into the light, leaving the wreckage in her wake.
