Proteus, Part II

[x-mactaggart.livejournal.com]

Amanda stumbled back, senses still reeling. It was like everything had been turned inside out and upside down, and there was no bloody way she was going to try a head-on attack like that again. At least she wasn't the only one there - and she wasn't useless. Seeing Moira's uncle trying to push forward through the mess to confront the arsehole who had started all this, heedless of his own safety, she cast the shielding spell in front of him, a shimmering blue wall of energy stopping him from moving any further.

This was not cool. Shiro would not deny that a fight against some super-powered being was a nice way to ring in the New Year, but this was ridiculous. The thing had come out of nowhere, and before Shiro had even had a chance to approach it, a wave of nausea washed over him, followed by the sharp pain that had accompanied his initial manifestation years ago.

Catching sight of something he should have remembered snapped him out of it. "Leyu-chan!" he cried, forgetting about the enemy and flying over to grab his sister, who clung to him like a lifeline. "~Are you okay? Did you get hurt?~" he asked her in Japanese. She replied with a shake of her head, although she was obviously frightened out of her mind. Swearing, he flew back, then spotted Amanda. Perfect. "Sefton!" he called, quickly flying over to her.

Amanda glanced up at Shiro's call, using the shielding spell to wall off the various bystanders from the confusion. Thank goodness for home ground, sort of - she had the power to spare to do this. "What?" she asked, then noticed the young girl clinging to Shiro. "Fu... fudge," she amended. "She okay?"

Shiro landed next to Amanda and tried to put his sister down, but she was holding onto him for dear life, so he just kept on holding her. "Yes, thankfully unhurt. What is that thing, some kind of demon?" With Amanda and Illyana around, one could never be certain.

Amanda tried hard not to roll her eyes at him. "'S not a demon," she said shortly. "There's no magic there at all that I can pick up - think we're lookin' at yer run of the mill scientific experiment gone horribly wrong." Finally people were getting a clue from the blue energy wall, and were retreating back away from the fight, and with a sigh of relief, Amanda dropped the spell. Almost immediately it had to go back up, this time around the three of them, as a bench went flying perilously close to their heads. "Let me guess - you need someone t' watch Leyu while you do yer big hero thing?"

Shiro glared at Amanda. "The X-Men will need help. There are few of them, and this thing is powerful. If you see someone else here who is strong enough, then by all means, point him or her out." Shiro looked around at the group and shook his head. "Unlike our friend Doug, I have no desire to die today, nor do I want a hero's glory. But it goes without saying that this thing must be stopped, yes?"

"Like you won't enjoy every minute of it," she replied, a lot more mildly than she felt. Glancing at the glowing figure heading towards the castle, she shuddered a little. "I ain't goin' near that thing again - messes with me head too much. But you know I'll do whatever it takes t' keep yer sister safe."

"Well, I did not say that I would not," Shiro responded with a grin. "~Leyu-chan, go with Amanda, understood?~" he said to his sister in Japanese. "~She will keep you safe.~"

"~But I want to stay here with you!~" she protested, clinging even more tightly. "~Please don't go anywhere, big brother! I don't want you to get hurt.~"

"~This is not open to debate, little sister. You will follow Amanda and listen to her. I will be fine, okay? I promise you.~" Leyu hesitated, but after looking at the destruction around her, nodded and let go, permitting Shiro to put her down. The first thing she did once on the ground was hug her brother and then wrap her arms around Amanda's leg, as if that would keep her safe. Shiro couldn't help but smile at her.

"~If you behave, maybe she will pull a rabbit out of a hat or something for you.~" He looked up at Amanda, and his disposition changed, taking on the mantle of Sunfire. "Thank you."

"Yer welcome." Amanda laid a comforting hand on Leyu's shoulder and dropped the shielding spell again so Shiro could leave. "Look out for yerself, yeah?"

As soon as the shield disappeared, Sunfire was surrounded by his trademark nimbus, and gave Amanda a thumbs-up. "Not to worry. Everyone will be back to pumping themselves full of alcohol in celebration in no time, ne?" Lifting himself off the ground, he flew forward, heart pumping in excitement.

Amanda looked down at Leyu, who was staring after Shiro with a stricken look on her face. "Don't worry, luv," she said. "He's a hero, ain't he? Does this stuff standin' on his head. An' nothin'll happen t' you while I'm here. Got more than enough tricks up me sleeve.""

"I'm not afraid about me," Leyu told Amanda, still holding on. "This summer, when we left home, he had to fight one of Keni-nii-san's friends, and he almost lost! He's going to get hurt again." She bit down on her lip, trying to keep herself from crying. That would do no good here.

"No, he won't," Amanda told her firmly, wondering how it was they were actually going to be able to move anywhere with Leyu clinging to her leg like a limpet. "I've seen him fight scarier things than this and come out of it fine." She didn't add that if something did happen there was always the Handy Healing Magic (TM). Or the fact she'd seen him almost die from a demon's poison. Not exactly encouraging things. "Now, how 'bout we get somewhere safe so he can focus on fightin' without worryin' 'bout us. Miles'll be somewhere in this mess, we could look after him for Ali, yeah?" She held out her hand for Leyu to take, one eye on the battle.

Leyu glanced over at Shiro, now not really recognizable from a flying fireball, and then nodded at Amanda. She let go of her leg and took her hand, holding it firmly. "Okay." With one final look at her brother, she nodded again, this time more resolutely, and followed after Amanda. If Shiro could be big and brave and entirely unafraid, then she could, too. She would make him proud of her.

Holding onto Leyu's hand firmly, Amanda went in search of Miles.





Proteus, that's what Joe had called him, turned and batted at something that flew by. The teleportation had confused him long enough to allow Moira and the others time to start heading back to the castle proper but a few were still left behind. The flames on his body spiraled hotter as he headed towards the old structure, seemingly heading there with reason.

Angelo was one of the ones who hadn't reached the castle yet. Making his way there as fast as he could, he paused for half a second to stare at Proteus before starting to run again.

The sudden movement caught his eye and, almost instinctually, he lashed out. The ground underneath Angelo suddenly went from solid, if slightly slippery, to a liquid mess. It sucked at his skin, trying to draw him down as Proteus headed towards him.

Angelo yelped, then forced himself not to panic, remembering everything pop culture had ever taught him about quicksand. He stayed very still, hoping Proteus would lose interest.

Snow beneath him melted as he walked and the new falling snow sizzled around him. The person that had moved wasn't moving anymore and he walked closer, almost as if to see what he would do.

Angelo was watching him carefully, poised to try and drag himself out of the mud and run but really, really not sure that would be a good idea.

Proteus' attention was suddenly captured, flash of red hair. Something stirred inside, Joe's voice and a picture. Red hair? Howling, he turned, losing interest in Angelo. With the shift in focus, the reality warping affect started to die off and the mud started to solidify again.

Angelo, realizing this, scrambled hastily to free himself. Once he was back on solid ground, he decided running was probably the best way to attract Proteus's attention again, and started to walk rather more cautiously towards the castle





Having her images disrupted -always- felt odd. Like snapping a elastic inside her sinuses, or eating ice cream too fast. Having a twenty metre wall turned into wet slime that reminded her altogether too much of Skippy? Hurt like sticking a blowtorch up her left nostril and turning it on "high".

The wall came down, as piles of slime do not generally stand upright, and Marie-Ange staggered back, only managing to hold onto her handful of cards because her fingers were gripped in fists from the stabbing pain in her head. The tortured-looking figure who had dismissed her images with what was like the barest of gestures lumbered towards her.

Haroun was up in the air, but not too far - only a few feet. Made falling when the world turned itself inside-out much less painful. His 'ware was extremely unhappy with him, but it would shut up and deal until somebody with a real power could shut the reality-warping nutbar down.

When the whatever-it-was wall turned into slime, he knew that he had better rock into action. Before somebody got hurt.

Worse than the pain of the walls coming down, the migraine was keeping Marie-Ange from being able to make any -more- images. More of the same blow-torch up the nose feeling, and not one of those nice little crème brulee ones. This was an unfriendly kind of blowtorch.

Backing up was not -exactly- an option, finding herself backed up against a real wall, one of the scattered bits of ruined stonework that dotted Muir. And climbing over that was going to be difficult at best, with the frozen sleet and ice making everything slick and slippery.

OK, there was a problem. Marie-Ange's wall had been turned into what looked like badly-overdone couscous by the gatecrasher, and she didn't seem to be With It enough to conjure another image to protect herself. So Haroun kicked his power into high gear, offering a quick prayer to Allah that somebody would distract it long enough for him to make the pickup and rescue without smacking into the ground.

Again.

Doing it the first time had hurt. A lot. Doing it again at a higher speed had been enough to give him what promised to be spectacular bruises. Doing it a third time, at these speeds, would probably be fatal to both himself and Marie-Ange.

The lumbering cauchemar- nightmarish thing - turned its head, or the firey head-shaped area of its body, at least, seemingly looking for someone, or something, and let out a noise, almost a bawling cry. It gave Marie-Ange just enough time to scramble halfway over the wall before it turned its attention back to her.

Haroun rocketed towards Marie-Ange, grabbing her heavy winter jacket. Hopefully, the material would insulate her for the few seconds she was going to be airborne before he deposited her into the nearest handy pile of snow to cool off and get safe in.

He found a lovely candidate on the far side of a ruined wall, only a second or two of flight time at the speeds he was moving at. The grab went perfectly smoothly, even if she did make the most entertaining protesting noises when he yanked her off her feet. The drop into the snowbank also proved to be highly entertaining ... and she knew how to fall. Interesting trick, that. The snow looked like it was doing its job, judging by the puff of condensation coming from the overheated jacket cooling back down rapidly.

The sudden yank from the back of her coat hadn't caused a squawk of protest, so much as a yelp of surprise. The last thing Marie-Ange had expected was to be plucked from mid-climb and deposited into a snowbank.

Not that she was complaining, mind you. The monster-thing had apparently decided that flying red-heads were not as interesting as ones who made things for them to destroy. She coughed out a mouth and nose full of wet slush and got back to her feet. Wet, cold, headachy, but not dead, and not on -fire-.

Haroun pulled a tight 180 in midair and rocketed back towards Proteus. In his head, he was cursing his lack of uniform, cursing not having any guns available, and as usual, cursing his lack of a blast field. Maybe if he moved in quickly he could get a shot in before the interloper turned the air into tapioca or pulled gravity ninety degrees off of true.

Again.





The world went mad, between one moment and the next. In the past year, Nathan had done considerably more than flirt with insanity more times than he really cared to remember, but each time he'd been aware of crossing a line, aware of the source of the problem, even in the midst of it.

This was different. This was the world itself, and somehow he knew that, that the chaos was reaching for him from outside, not the depths of his own mind. Nathan took a stumbling step forward, sinking to his knees in ground that had turned suddenly into something like quicksand.

The sky was a dull, shimmering green with crimson clouds, and the wind was a visible thing, bluish fingers reaching out and plucking viciously at the landscape, at the shadowy forms that he knew were the others, even if he couldn't see them. Things flickered in his still-uncertain peripheral vision, shadowy, formless things like echoes of nightmares.

His telepathy was being scattered, his impression of the minds around him turning into countless echoes. He didn't know what was happening, what the others were trying to do... Moira, where was Moira?

#... little brother...#

The quicksand was sucking him downwards. Up to his waist, now, and the more he struggled, the deeper he sank. Maybe that was a good thing. What was worse, the quicksand or the wind?

#Little brother... NATHAN!#

The shout that had been a whisper rocked him, grabbing his attention and holding it. Inside his mind, that starry sky shifted, and the composite voice of the Askani murmured reassuringly to him for a moment as the terror, if not the adrenalin, passed.

#That's better.# It was back to just being Askani herself, although he heard echoes of Rawn and the other war leaders in her voice, something of their cold assessment of a tactical situation. #Close your eyes. A partial meditative state, if you can manage it...#

Which he couldn't. But he could close his eyes, shut out at least some of what was happening to the world around him.

#Concentrate. The lines of force are being warped, but they're still there. You still know the patterns.#

Blind - blind, again, he thought with a thrill of terror - he reached out, feeling for the patterns. Something had twisted them, like a delicate tapestry being pulled in all directions at once. Why they weren't breaking, or indeed doing more than fraying, he didn't understand. This was something so totally outside his experience...

#It's in your experience now,# Askani sent sharply. #Center yourself. Focus. You can find your way through this.#

He had to see the patterns, and see how they were being changed. Follow the lines of force.

#Yes. Just like that...#

The minutes ticked away, and he had no attention to spare for what might be happening to the others around him. Not even Moira. He had to follow the patterns, and see...

There.

They were all there. Each mind he knew, like jewels tossed here and there amid the madness, and he reached out to each of them, even as he levitated upwards, out of the quicksand and into the air.

#Back! Fall BACK!# he projected as loudly as he could, showing them the way as clearly as he could. #To the castle! Now!#