CrazyRogue3
Jubilee probably /will/ regret that. She staggers in an unsteady line along the sidewalk, tipping over a fish cart as she goes and hardly paying attention to those around her. Right now, all her concentration is on going as quickly as possible, and vaguely maybe finding the docks. They are around ehre somewhere, aren't they?
Unease looped back to him in a destructive feedback, Piotr attempts to take a deep breath to calm himself, instead sending a spike of pain through his damaged ribs. "Perhaps--" he suggests, but is cut off as he hears the sound of the fish cart falling over, his gaze jolting over towards the source of the noise and his eyes widening considerably as he sees who caused it. "Jubilee?" calls, as loud as his injury will allow without hurting him further.
Rogue is a little behind but she weaves quickly, ducking into the street and clambering over a car who's driver is already scrambling for his life. She stands high on the roof of the car. "Brought more friends, Lee?" Rogue calls out in the aussie accent, laughing hotly as flames flash straight up in the air for a bit of show.
Illyana takes a small step to adjust her position behind her brother, initial concern turning into anxiety as her hand gropes at her hip for a sword that still isn't there. "{Who is this Sophie?}" she asks him under cover of the different language. Then there is Jubilee--and Rogue. She whimpers at the flames, drawing in on herself.
Jubilee doesn't hear Piotr. She doesn't hear anything except the flames licking at her ear. "Fuck off," she snarls, flipping around to explode the car roof under Rogue's feet. She staggers back and hits a wall with her shoulder, spinning her around again.
Glancing back at the commotion, Sophie leaps behind a nearby car as the flames leap into the air. "They're both /mutants/?" she wails in terror.
Flames ripple over smoke, and Erik blinks hard upon jerking his attention upward again just in time to see the roof of the car beneath Rogue's feet explode. Far from fearful, the pair of them do, at least, earn a startled look from the Master of Magnetism while he attempts to get an accelerated lock on what, exactly, is going on.
Hissing a word that Sophie is unlikely to understand and Illyana would probably be shocked to hear from her big brother, Piotr closes his eyes, sets his jaw and armours up with a half-stifled grunt of pain that creases deep lines across his face. "{Illyana, get out of here, take Sophie with you,}" he instructs sternly, looking seriously at her before turning to Sophie. "Go with Illyana, she will get you to a safe place." He does not stop to see if this instruction is followed before, with a look of distinct discomfort, he heads towards the flames and destruction.
Rogue leaps as Jubilee retaliates. She makes the short jump to another car, getting upset in the flight from the power behind the blast. With a howl of pain Rogue scrambles up onto the other car, clinging for a moment while the she fends off the pain of the blow. Her arm slides out from underneath her, aiming a forceful blast at the advancing Piotr. "This isn't your fight, Pete!"
Wha- Oh, crap. Jubilee hangs heavily to the building's wall for support, and shouts, "Peter! Not here!" It's a little doubtful if she can get anywhere but here, but she tries, setting off at a determined stagger down a less trafficed side street.
Illyana goes so far as to try to take Sophie's hand, but no farther. "{Piotr-!}" she protests in a voice that breaks, actually taking a few steps after him, as if she could help. "{But--}" She holds out her free hand, desperate to take her brother too.
As Illyana makes a move for her, Sophie leaps backwards. "Monster!" she screams, filling the air with empathy projected terror.
Vroooom. Bikes this sleek really should have louder engines. They might have, once upon a time, before Scott's tinkering. Now, the only significant noise comes on activating the turbo jets during the long stretch between Westchester and Manhattan. Now, they weave through the streets, maneuvering through traffic with the smaller vehicles and an occasional << Turn Left >> instruction from somewhere far north. Then the visual directions kick in as Scott veers toward the smoke, arriving on the scene. A highly dramatic entrance might involve a sharp turn, with the bike tilting and skidding out of the way as one fearless leader jumps off. But, see, that might damage the bike. It's only a few added seconds, though, that it takes Scott to actually stop the bike and properly dismount. Black leather, visored gaze giving a single scan of the area. The X-men are here.
"{No, Illya, get to safety!}" Piotr calls back, looking over his shoulder momentarily before his stern expression breaks to something more tender and fervent at the violent peak of Sophie's empathy. "{Please?}" he begs of her, his pace slowing to a stop as he turns fully to face her, his charge on Rogue ceased. "{Go, get away!}"
*The X-Men's arrival warrants barely a glance.
The already tense lines around Erik's jaw and shoulders carve into stone against that rip of projected terror, the stark light of his eyes goes immediately dark with the flare of his pupils around an untempered jolt of adrenaline. Building supports creak ominously, and the resonant hum of magnetism in the surrounding air is briefly uncontrolled. Uh oh.
Illyana's focus tightens abruptly, as she takes a white-knuckled grip on herself against the fear. Unable to deny her brother's pleading, she clings to his earlier directions too, sobbing as she fights her way to snag the nearest bit of Sophie she can reach, and drag her through the red disk that has appeared nearby.
The drama lacking in Scott's entrance is provided seconds later, as a second bike arrives. There is a sharp, 90-degree turn and a sudden stop, tires squealing and painting a brief line of rubber on the tarmac. The rear wheel fishtails briefly, though the bike does not actually skid out. Logan springs off it the moment it is no longer moving, hands flexing as his narrowed eyes scan the street-turned-warzone.
Rogue picks herself up, feet sliding up underneath her as she rises to a steady stand on top of the new car. There is hesitance as she leans to watch the X-Men arrive, a muttered curse on her lips. The flames around her hands sizzle and churn, starting to fizzle. Rogue's face finally turns to a more nervous energy, eyes twisting around. Without warning she breaks into a huge grin at the familiar hum of magnetism. "You're all in for it now, X-Men!" Rogue says with a pompous swell of pride. Fire hisses and burns, growing brighter at the promise of a Magneto not far away.
"Noooooooooooo," Sophie wails as Illyana pulls her into the disk. A trickle of blood runs from her nose as her empathic projection swells to a full hundred and sixty foot sphere of fear and anger, then as a moment later it flicks off as Sophie faints.
Not nearly as flashy or maneuverable as a motorcycle, a featureless black SUV is slowly ooozing through traffic two city blocks away and to the north. Fingertips drumming a tattoo of frustration against the steering wheel, Jean is far from the action and stuck behind a soccer mom and her van, and is thus relegated to relaying directions across the distance between them. Turn left, indeed. << What are you seeing? >> she projects to Scott and Logan again, not quite able to keep soccer-mom shaped undertones of irritation from colouring the subliminals appended to the thought.
Magnetism buffets Piotr physically, sending him staggering back and to the side with a cry of pain as the unseen force sends a vicious jolt through his damaged body, followed quickly by the mental anguish of Sophie's empathy from nearby. He stumbles into a building at the side of the street, managing not to put his hand through the wall as he pulls himself upright against it, trying to reorient himself. X-Men! Logan screaming daringly onto the scene! Gritting steel teeth, he stands and begins to head towards Rogue once again.
Jubilee huddles at the other end of the street she'd started down, waiting for someone, /that/ someone to follow her. Shivers start to rattle her frame as she clasps her hands in front of her. The earing in her damaged ear vibrates under the force of Magneto's pulse and she screams and slides down, flirting with the edges of unconsciousness. She starts to crawl back to the corner, fighting to stay awake by concentrating fiercely on putting on hand in front of the other.
Magneto shakes his head as if to clear it as he attempts to ease rapid breaths back into a more reasonable rhythm. Magnetism is forced down more directly, and the hum kills itself out almost as quickly as it sprang forth in the first place. For the most part, anyway. The moment Logan is clear of his bike, it picks itself up and is flung hard over its owner's head for Rogue's most recent post.
<< Smoke. And either she's channeling Magneto also or-- >> Scott starts to reply when the empathy washes over him. << God. Jean. Hurry. >> is all the mental thought he can spare. There's a sharp inhale, as he fights the suggestion. His arm shoots out, a head jerk toward Logan, pointing him to go wider, then another to Piotr for the other direction. He takes a step toward Rogue, hand hovering at his side, ready to act if needed, and calls out to her, "Fight it. You can control this."
Hah. Fat chance, Scott. Already tried /that/ tactic. Jubilee reaches the end of the alleyway and finally allows herself to hit the ground at the sight of the others. They'll take care of things. The X-Men always take care of things.
Logan's eyes narrow sharply as the bike goes flying past his head, briefly tracing its path. "Motherfucker," he curses, though whether it is over the flying vehicle or where specifically it is flying is left up in the air. Hands clenched and teeth bared in a snarl against empathic remnants and native fury, he nods curtly to Scott and moves to circle wide. "Snap the fuck outta it, Rogue!"
Any an all confidence drummed up by Magneto's prescreens is quickly washed away. Rogue ducks, eyes wide. "Bloody hell!" The Australian twang of her voice hollers unhappily. The motorcycle slams into the car and Rogue is rocked off with a yell. There is a curse, a small peek to Scott before Rogue begins to weave and duck through the cars to escape their advances. Fire is spat across three car lengths at Pete. "Help me out with these goons!" she wills Magneto wherever he might be. There is no answer to Logan or Scott.
Catching Scott's direction, Piotr offers a nod that serves also to clear the sudden spark of emotional control winking out, mental shields flashing up finally and far too late. Moving away from Logan to cover Rogue's other side, the blast of fire does little but tear through his jacket and shirt, leaving the steel behemoth to advance in a ring of growing flames as he tries to rip the garments off before the fire spreads.
<< Scott? -Scott-? >> This is the second time today conversation's cut off on Jean, and it's even less reassuring than before, with the backwashed echo of empathic projection distorting itself up along the mental party line. "God damnit," she swears to the solitude of the SUV interior, before venting ire at the soccer mom. "Stop putting mascara on and -drive-, woman! Light's green!" She leans on the horn for two sharp blasts. Soccer mom flashes an unmaternal Hawaiian Good Luck Sign, but does step on the gas and take advantage of the now green light and the momentarily paused flow of pedestrians. At last, vrooooooom goes the SUV.
(It must be said that the examples of lane-changing that happen next are highly dangerous and should not be attempted by viewers at home.)
Metal rolls, grates, and crunches over metal, shattering glass and showering sparks over the cold asphalt while Erik continues to regain himself -- one booted foot planted hard upon the raised concrete barrier at the roof's edge. His next hard step pushes him up and over, and quickly enough he's braced on the street below and behind the X-Men's advance upon Rogue. Rather close to Scott, really. He is irritable.
<< Empath. >> Scott barks back. His strides lengthen, starting to close the distance between himself and Rogue when the new figure stops him. "Magneto," he says, turning to face him directly. "Logan. Peter, go after her," he shouts out. I.e. get the metal beings out of the way. "I should have known you were behind this," he says.
<< King Asshole's here, >> is Logan's ever-so-helpful addition, projected Jean-wards as he moves after Rogue, breaking into a long, loping stride. This metal being is all too happy to comply with the directions given, for now. "Running away already?" he calls, tone turned antagonistic. Logan, apparently, has decided it's time for a change in tactics.
Managing to remove the burning tatters of his jacket and shirt to reveal charred and ripped adhesive tape covering puckered bite marks that stand out matte against the shining silver of his torso, Piotr follows Scott's instruction without a word, attempting to follow after Rogue but hampered by a lack of manoeuvrability born of pain, size and stationary cars.
Rogue is still ducking and scrambling away, trying to avoid the scattering of glass and cars. She finally pulls herself up, building up enough of a fiery blast to shoot at Logan and Pete in a wide arc. "Magneto!" Rogue calls out as she spies him. "We're still on the same bloody side, aren't we?" There is a slight dip of panic in her voice. "/Fuck," she mutters, lobbing another fire ball at Logan.
Most sensible people in the area are vacating it. But this is New York City, so there are just as many people coming closer to get the best view of the show. A camera phone clicks. There's a call of "Yo, fucker! You smashed my car last year!" from someone.
"Mr. Summers," Erik returns, unbothered by the accusation, and apparently disinterested in offering further assistance. His tone is condescending. Conversational, while the wind tugs at the heavy length of his coat and the silver ruffle of his already disordered hair. He squints. "This particular block of Chinatown is indeed significant to my designs upon planet Earth. I have driven Marie insane and ordered her to run about setting things on fire so that I may erect my new secret lair here. You've caught me." Both hands are lifted, bony wrists bared, and he tilts his brows, ready to be cuffed and dragged to prison. Rogue's question earns a disinterested, "Not really."
Slowly getting closer, Jean considers that a quarter block away is close enough, and promptly illegally parks the SUV in a loading zone, because she's a superhero and they are never seen circling blocks looking for the entrance to a parking garage. She retreats with a medical kit in hand and a leather trenchcoat over her uniform, thumbs at her key fob to lock and alarm the SUV, and starts wending her way through the knotted, gawking crowds. A steady litany of "Excuse me, coming through, excuse me, coming through, doctor, excuse me, coming through," is murmured.
Logan staggers back, cursing and batting at his clothing at the first blast of flame. Reddened skin regains its normal colour even as it tries to blister. He drops low, just avoiding the second. One pities the poor surrounding buildings, really. Keeping crouched, he continues his advances, sparing a momentary flash of irritation at the obstacles. "That the best you can do?" The jeer is hoarse-voiced but still pitched to be audible. "Fucking pathetic. No wonder you're bein' hung out to dry."
"Sarcasm doesn't become you," Scott says coolly. << ETA? >> is sent out wildly, mind scrambling to form a new plan. Magneto was not part of the equation. His peripheral vision captures each metal object, mentally filing them away, along with the jeers of the foolish onlookers, deciding direct confrontation too risky. "Leave this place. Even with Rogue, we outnumber you. With more on the way."
Eyes pop wide at Magneto, a dead glare setting in as dread takes hold and contrasts fire with a dead cold in her chest. Soon she is darting, moving, and getting herself off the street. She stumbles into a courtyard between the buildings, scrambling forth without realizing the dead end. Rogue grunts, whirls, hands out with the threat of fire on her fingertips.
"It is beginning to look as if you could use the extra assistance, but...." Voice even, Erik presses his brows low into a knit and drops his wrists to favor Scott with a polite nod, and a stiff clap on the shoulder. "My pleasure. I shall see you on the evening news." And with that and a wink, coat furling after him, he turns to pace off into the same obscurity that is currently impeding Jean's progress in the opposite direction.
With Rogue's attention on the second blast focused on Logan, Piotr is able to make some headway on her and is close by when she makes her run for it. Setting his jaw, he launches himself into a charge after her, pulling up even closer as longer legs give him an advantage of speed. "Rogue, stop this!" he calls after her. "We can help you. Stop this!"
A judicious, vicious elbow, a << Right behind you. Rogue? >> to Scott and Logan, and Jean is finally through the crowds and into the fringes of the little open space full of chaos.
Cursing all the more viciously, Logan breaks into a sprint - or as much of one as can be achieved given the obstacles. Already thin, his patience frays to the breaking point, and the next car he comes to foolish enough to be in the way, he vaults the hood of rather than veering around. Ka-thunk. There is a dent left in his wake.
Scott stands there, unflinching as the hand connects with his shoulder, and unmoving as Magneto leaves. Making sure he really /does/ leave, fighting the reluctance just to let him walk away. Too many innocents. With Magneto fading into the crowd, and Rogue around the corner, he has a moment's pause. And the nagging bit falls into place. Jubilee. He spins on heel, hand leaping to the visor, held back just in time as he recognizes Jean. "Down there." he says, pointing out the alley with a mental picture rather than taking the time to point. "Jubilee. I haven't seen her. Can you sense her?"
"Back off!" Rogue warns Pete, fire already forming around her. "Don't you X-heads have something /better/ to do?" She backs up, her heel hitting the brick wall behind her. The cornered Pyro!Rogue snarls.
-Can- Jean sense her? We don't know, but Jean's definitely going to try. Giving Scott a wordless nod, she heads off in the direction indicated at a half-jog, one hand on the medical kit.
"No," Piotr tells Rogue, slowing his approach to avoid slamming her rather messily into the wall behind but not stopping, standing painfully tense and ready to reach to cut her off should she try to escape. "We are trying to protect a friend, there is nothing more important. I--" He stops, his eyes widening. "Sophie! Rogue, listen to me," he says, his desperation growing, "you /must/ stop this!"
Scott , meanwhile, takes crowd control at the alley's head, stalwart figure keeping the dangerously curious from entering. His answers are short and terse to questions called out, not revealing anything more than onlookers might piece together themselves.
Maybe? Jubilee is very nearly unconscious from the burns and bottomed out blood sugar. She's tucked behind a dumpster set at the beginning of the alley leading to the courtyard, huddled with her arms wrapped around her knees, shivering and cold. Her eyes are opened and fixed on the direction the others took.
Another car (another ka-thunk), and Logan enters the courtyard behind Pete, to one side so as to better cover the potential escape route. "We gotcha cornered, kid. It's over. Stand down - we don't wanna hurt ya."
Rogue pushes her foot against the wall. "Too bad I /do/," she growls, palms thrusting out and together to release a large, forced blast of fire down the narrow strip of courtyard. It ceases, a little abruptly, Rogue slumping under the effort taken to release it. She squints her eyes, putting up a weak wall of flames as she seeks to scramble around Logan.
Unsteady, but enough, Jean picks up on the familiar mind of a Jubilee, and her half-jog kicks up to a run, and then to a grit-skidding halt once she's nearly tripped over her. "Jubilee? Honey, you look at me, OK?" she requests, crouching down and beginning a field-medicine assessment of the younger woman. A crinkly aluminum shock blanket is swiftly shaken out and wrapped around her.
Gritting his teeth against the inevitable pain - fire, remarkably enough, does not cease to be hot just because one can regenerate - Logan reaches for Rogue, seeking to grab her around the waist as he drops low, one leg sweeping out to cut her feet out from under her.
Wall of flame little obstacle to Colossus, he too closes in on Rogue, narrowing the space she has to move even further. Between the wall on one side and the two X-Men, she quickly has only a few precious feet in which to manoeuvre to counter Logan's attempt to grab her, a few precious feet all of which are well in Piotr's reach.
Jubilee turns her head toward the attention, and panic is the immediate, unreasoning reaction toward realizing it's directed to her. She half scrambles up before the inevitable dip into blackout drops her back down.
Jubilee turns her head toward the attention, and panic is the immediate, unreasoning reaction toward realizing it's directed to her. She half scrambles up before the inevitable dip into blackout drops her back down.
There's a hand to steady her as she slumps. "Oh, honey," Jean sighs, resuming the art of wrapping Jubilee in foil like a barbeque-roasted chicken. Crinkle. Crinkle. "We really need to find a new tradition."
Rogue attempts to hop up, the toe of her shoe catching on Logan and sending her into a stumble. She smacks down on the pavement, fire extinguishing from her hands. She rolls, trying to dig the lighter from her pocket as she sprawls at Piotr's feet. The Zippo flicks open.
Logan growls in irritation, springing towards the sprawled Rogue. There is very little telegraphing as he aims a punch at her jaw - carefully checked to avoid causing any serious harm if it connects. While his eyes are not on the Zippo, he is well aware of it. Fire /bad/.
Jubilee is no problem! Jubilee is sweet and innocent and out of it. Her slides in and out of consciousness are coming faster, and she's staying out longer. Her lean against Jean is heavy and boneless.
Rogue lets out a scream a split second before the punch is thrown, a distinct twist back into her southern drawl. There is a fleshy little thump of contact, Rogue's head twisting as the punch sends her down into a slump. Her body relaxes as she blacks out, the lighter falling from her hand and clattering to the concrete with little heed from it's holder.
Deciding that Jubilee can be better treated in SUVs than in alleyways, Jean scoops up her heavy, boneless little foil-wrapped cornish hen and begins to slowly make her way back to the alley mouth, and the press of the crowds. Hopefully passing through with an injured yong woman will make even New Yorkers give a little space.
"Sorry, darlin'," Logan murmers to the unconscious Rogue. There is a brief hiss of pain let out between his teeth as he bends to lift her into his arms, a twist of a grimace as he straightens. The lighter, now that it is no longer an immediate threat, is utterly ignored.
Piotr is not so quick to discount the lighter, sending it skidding across the concrete and away from Rogue with his foot as Logan bends to lift her. At the sight of Logan's discomfort he hides his own and offers his hands out with a questioning, "I can take her."
Logan gives Piotr a sharp look, centered roughly on the area a certain dragon had chomped on not too long ago. His memory is not quite /that/ shoddy. "I've got her," he assures. "You can get the fucking rubberneckers outta the way." As though to prove his point, he completes the process of standing, and starts off down the street. << Incoming, Jeannie. Directions? >>
<< Quarter block to the north, >> Jean reports, a figure parting through the crowds a hundred yards ahead of Logan. The dark little head of Jubilee can be seen dangling from one side of her arms, balanced by the foil wrapping dangling off the other. She looks up. The SUV is, blessedly, in sight. << I guess you'll be needing a lift? >>
Scott stands even grimmer to the side as the line of victims pass by. << Everyone in the SUV, >> he orders back. Not like there is much of a choice, with Logan's bike totalled courtesy of Magneto. He waits to see them off and hold the few remaining crowd members back until they are safely away.
3.17.07 - Scott is cool and no one notices. :(