May 15th [The Techening]

[apoorupbringing]

It wasn't in Chase's nature to heed the advice of grown ups, but then, it wasn't in Chase's nature to do anything that could be construed as 'adult'. He'd given the mogwai to Wiccan and shoved OL off onto Lucy, much to what he was sure was the dinosaur's displeasure, and gone to the scrapyard with the fistigons and the ex-ray specs and gotten to

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[daretodo]

It's the second Sunday since Mary Jane left me, but the first I've actually spent not holed in my workshop, trying to work out the theory for something I might be better off trying to figure out practically. My few ventures outside these past couple weeks have been more geared towards the beach, the Compound -- the latter late at night, when I'm less likely to bump into anyone -- but the scrapyard seems the logical place to go in this instance, even if it stirs up some less than pleasant memories that I very deliberately push aside.

I've been doing that a lot, lately. Pushing memories aside, pushing myself forward instead of down. My chest's been ripped open, my heart torn out and broken, and in its place there's a steely determination, a cold anger that keeps the pain at bay. Well, pain, and other things. I haven't been exhibiting a great deal of common sense, either, but the distraction I've gained from that has almost been worth it, so I can't bring myself to particularly care.

Case in point: when I find the scrapyard all but

[notawastedlife]

"All right," Tony said, looping the wire around several pieces of metal, hurriedly hooking them into an elaborate arrangement, stripping back parts as he built... whatever it was. It didn't look much like a funnel, but it would serve as one. Just needed to feed enough energy to the X-Wing to set up the transfer, and then it would all follow along.

Hopefully, with no one exploding.

"Nearly there," he said, "Pete, how're we doing?"

[daretodo]

I make one mistake in this wiring, and the whole ship could explode, leaving us with the same minimum body count as the battery would in its stead. Even so, my fingers are flying as fast as they can, my mind working on autopilot. There's just no time to double-check my work. One connection follows the next, my focus fixed so entirely on the the task at hand that I don't notice the developments elsewhere until I hear my name being called, and I snap to attention.

That could really look more promising. Shoving a hand back through my hair, I blink once, then shout, "Buy me thirty more seconds!"

[notawastedlife]

Thirty seconds. Which meant bleeding off a small amount of discharge, so that it reached critical mass just that much slower, and doing it right now. No time to construct something safe for the job.

"Everyone keep their heads down," Tony said, pulling the palm-sized repulsor out of his pocket, twisting the wires apart to make an open connection and then tossing it into the field.

It connected with the energy, absorbed it, fired sideways, sending pieces of metal flying, one metal bar whipping past Tony's head as he took his own advice and ducked.

Then it ripped itself apart, the small components whipping around, added to the mass orbiting Chase.

"When Pete says go -- which should be soon -- focus as much of a beam into the trap as possible," he said, "and then try not to explode!"

[apoorupbringing]

"Kay," Chase called, "got it, no exploding, focus. Rah-" he shuddered, had to shake off the impulse to just pass out and let whatever happen, happen.

He wasn't sure why he didn't.

"Right."

[daretodo]

A bit of shrapnel snags my arm, tearing a gash through not only my shirt, but flesh and muscle, too. Blood dyes the light blue fabric a dark red, and I bite back the impulse to cry out, not about to waste a second of the thirty Tony just bought me with that stunt of his. If anything, the pain reminds me of the stakes, the whole thing seeming a little abstract before, bouncing from confusion to rage to just focusing on wiring. The three of us dying suddenly seems like a very real possibility--

Which is a very dangerous road to travel on right now. The abstract was better, the anger was better. Anything to keep my mind off the nerves, because I'm in no mood to be cracking jokes, the weight of the past couple of weeks too much of a burden. The chaos going on behind me's like someone breathing right down my neck, but I do my best to ignore it, finishing the last of the wiring by the skin of my teeth. I'm already darting towards the cockpit when I yell, "Go!"

[apoorupbringing]

Chase focused. It was hard, and dangerous because the first thought had was away. The sphere expanded, doubling in its speed, but he grit his teeth and focused, so hard he didn't even notice his nose begin to bleed. The sphere seemed to rupture and funnel outward, but to a finite point, gathering, then burst forward in a thick, steady beam of light that slammed into the x-wing-

Which was pretty fucking badass, right there, Chase was like a one man Deathstar-

-with an impressive degree of force.

[notawastedlife]

The X-Wing skewed sideways with the force. Tony hoped Peter had made it in, but it was hard to tell, with the bright flare of energy obscuring his vision.

Probably shouldn't look at that too long, but he had to see it to toss the device into the mix, set up the transfer so that they could funnel the energy into the new state and release it.

He stooped, picked it up, wire in the other hand; spun it once, like a lasso, then snapped it into the beams path, an arc of energy sparking out as it hit and was swept into the path and along, cable whipping along behind it.

Now to see if this all worked.

[daretodo]

I barely have time to brace for impact once I'm inside the cockpit, catching my weight on my injured arm.

"We're experiencing some turbulence today, folks," I mutter under my breath, and it's not even that funny -- like I said, just not in the mood for it-- but a laugh that borders on hysterical bubbles out of my throat regardless, as the ship around me jerks to the side, trembling, humming from the continued force of the energy. I haven't seen Star Wars in years, but the layout of the ship seems intuitive enough. After dismissing the need for the overhead display -- what I'm not targeting is a much smaller area than what I am -- I start flicking switches at random, a litany of please don't explode, please don't explode running through my head like a really lousy prayer, and I grab hold of the controls with both hands

[apoorupbringing]

Chase ducked his head, closing his eyes as a tree freaking exploded and showered the area in fiery splinters. The battery was cracking, literally, down its sides, the metal rending apart and Chase pulled back with one sharp heave of his shoulders to pull the fistigons free. He sat heavily, breathless and feeling sort of fried on the inside if not out, and waited for his brain to come back. Eventually he started to push himself up to his feet.

[notawastedlife]

Maybe one day they'd start making plans that didn't involve shooting energy beams at Peter, but today was not that day.

Still, good result. Energy was channelled, tree exploded, flaming wood rained down-

-and his sleeve was on fire.

He stared at it for a baffled moment, and then slapped downwards at it to beat out the flames -- where was Dummy with a fire extinguisher when you actually needed him -- and then dropped and rolled, which just had no style to it at all.

[daretodo]

My relief's short-lived. Letting out a sharp exhale, I sag down into the seat, my arm falling back down to my side. It was nice, for a moment, to just forget, but the first thought that crosses my mind as the adrenaline starts to bleed out of my system is whether or not I should tell Mary Jane I almost died this afternoon, and then the illusion's as shattered as that tree. Leaning forward, I push both hands through my hair, my fingers curling over the nape of my neck, and I blink hard. When I open my eyes, I turn to see how the others are doing, only to spot Tony rolling around on the ground.

On fire.

I'm out of the cockpit as quickly as I got in it, ignoring the twinge in my arm as I clamber down the side, and run towards Tony.

"Do you see an extinguisher?" I call to Chase, not really caring that he's in rough shape at the moment. "A pail of water? A- A towel or a blanket or something?"

[apoorupbringing]

It took Chase a moment to understand what the hell was going on, what he was being asked. Tony Stark was on fire. Crap. He hauled himself to his feet and lurched over to the pair a quickly as he could, then dropped messily to a crouch and clamped one of the fistigons onto Tony's arm where the flames were, and thought about it, and the fire got sucked up into the fistigon's central dispenser, along with a little bit of Stark's sleeve which was promptly incinerate. The glove powered down and Chase sat back, heavily.

"I got something."

[notawastedlife]

And now he wasn't on fire. Well, that was the ideal outcome, all considered.

He sat up and dusted himself off as casually as if he hadn't been rolling about a moment ago. Except for the presence of the dust.

"Congratulations," he said, "you're volunteered for the fire department."

[daretodo]

"I was just thinking the same thing," I say, blinking slightly. Of course, now that the danger's over with, it occurs to me I might've just webbed his arm -- I've put out Johnny with that trick more than a few times -- but this is probably a better outcome, not to mention a lot less sticky, both literally and not so literally. The fewer people I actually confirm my secret identity to, the better.

"Not that we really need another group of volunteers who're bored most of the time, but some kind of contingency plan'd be nice. Hoses, tiki hydrants, kids with a death wish who want to play hero." I wait a beat, then wheel on Chase, arms flinging out to my sides. "Oh, wait, we already have one of those!"

[apoorupbringing]

Now Chase wished he really had died. Time for the lecture.

"Who are you calling-" he traced the sentence over in his head.

"...a kid?" he asked, and pushed himself up to standing, however gracelessly, setting to the task of pulling off the fistigons.