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Seek and Destroy; [Brotherhood, X-men, FOH]
Topic Started: Oct 2 2007, 04:11 AM (2,631 Views)
Quicksilver
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Superspeed/ Superstrength
JP Pietro, Wanda and Jean

Quicksilver stiffened at the Angel's approach, tensing his streamlined form in suspicious anxiety. He expected an attack and was surprised to hear the Angel's words. "I care little if I am liked or not, to be frank. I seek help for my twin, nothing more. I will accept whatever punishment you see fit, but only once she is taken care of."

Warren ushered them into the Blackbird, away from the battle and called out to Jean.

“Jean?” Warren called out as he entered the Blackbird. “We’ve got some new recruits.”

Quicksilver glared at the Angel, "We are not recruits. We are... refugees."

Jean sat in the pilot’s chair, her half-lidded eyes staring out the windshield at the blood soaked ground. The town of Stafford looked like the world’s largest and messiest slaughterhouse. Fortunately, she wasn’t really seeing the view. Instead, her attention was splintered in a dozen different directions: finding trapped citizens for the rescue team, Storm, Bobby, and The Dragon, locating the Brotherhood, and keeping tabs on the assault team.

Warren’s voice sounded from her earpiece. The Scarlet Witch was down and he was bringing her in for attention. She momentarily disengaged from her surveillance to receive, not one Brotherhood member but two. Warren gave her a brief account before setting off again, anxious to help find survivors.

She peered into their minds and didn’t detect any deception; however, she was alone in the jet with them. “Asylum? I’m sure you’re telling the truth, but for safety reasons, I need you to wait in the containment cells.”

Pietro nodded, holding his sister in his arms, tightly. Wanda was not much smaller in height than her he was, and she was a well formed woman, but he showed no strain, no difficulty holding her. He did not look at Jean, his eyes firmly fastened on his ailing sister's blood streaked face, "We share a cell. I do not leave her." he said, heedless of the tears on his face, "She is ill and should not be alone."

The Blackbird only had a few cells but they had been designed to accommodate large, powerfully build men, so the twins weren’t a problem. “Please enter the first one,” she said, keeping her voice neutral. “Is she injured,” Jean asked, with so much covering them both, it was impossible to tell by sight. “Are you?” Jean was usually a hands-on woman, always ready to put an arm around a student or X-Man in need, but she kept her distance from these two, unsure how Quicksilver would respond.

Pietro calmly went into the cell he was directed into, seemingly sincere about his surrender. He laid his sister on the bench built into the wall, and knelt beside her, resting his forehead against her's. "I am uninjured. Wanda, my love, can you speak to me? Can you hear me?"

Jean had seen many things during her years at the Xavier Institute and although the two black pools of mist that hovered over Wanda’s eyes like ground fog weren’t the worst things she’d ever seen, it definitely had a horror movie feel that she found unsettling. She withdrew, leaving the twins to themselves.

Wanda turned to Pietro like a flower to the sun. “Pietro,” Her hand reached up to where she thought his face was, “you are well? I worried for you.”

Behind them, Jean returned. From the medical supplies, she fished out and soaked a washcloth with water, passing the dripping cloth and an extra bottle of water through the containment field. “I’ll be back to check on you shortly. Call out of you need anything.”

"Whatever did you do that for?" Pietro moved his face to her hand, so she might find him where she thought he was, "Worry, I mean. Nothing can harm me while you live, my darling. You keep my heart beating, and are every breath in my lungs." He turned his head and pressed his lips to her palm, "Silly girl to fret so," he said, fondly.

Jean brought water and a cloth, and Pietro took them, to stroke his sister's face, ignoring his own care at the moment, "Thank you, Miss... I am sorry, I don't know your name."

Jean paused, making a cursory check of the team, before stepping into his view to talk to him. “Grey, Jean Grey, you’re welcome. Will she be alright?” From Jean’s own brief glimpse into her mind, she had her own conclusions about that but from the way Quicksilver protectively tended to his sister she suspected he needed to talk.

Wanda didn’t flinch at the unexpected touch of the wet cloth; Pietro was with and so, nothing could hurt her. “I am lost, Pietro, I lost my way.”

"Jean..." Pietro recognized the name from his dealings with some of the younger members of her clan, and he murmured "You are Rosie's mother, are you not? She is a precious thing." He looked up at the red haired woman and said, "She will be all right. She must be." Glancing back at Wanda, he said, softly, "She would be a very cruel girl to leave me all alone."

Wanda spoke, and he continued to stroke her face to clean away the blood and the tears, "You are not lost, my love. I lead us astray. I thought I was bringing us to a family, but Magneto lied to us, he tricked us. He made us monsters and unleashed us upon the unexpecting world. But we aren't lost as long as we are together."

He looked up at Jean again, and there was a plea in his eyes, "You will help us, yes? You'll help her?"

“Yes,” she smiled involuntarily. With the team still out and in danger, she knew she shouldn’t let down her guard but how could she not smile when Rosie was mentioned. “I heard about both times you were with Rosie,” her tone holding a faint hard edge at the memory of the second time and shifted her gaze to look at Rosie’s abductor. However, it was difficult to stay upset at someone who obviously had other, more severe problems at hand. “And I never had the opportunity to ask thank you. Rosie’s very special to us.” She looked at Wanda and then back to Pietro. “Her loss would’ve been devastating,” she said, telling it to someone who, she suspected, knew exactly how much you could wrap yourself up in another person’s life. Instead of hiding behind the ‘we’ of the team, Jean said, “I’ll try my best.”

Wanda shook her head sadly, “I will not grab for absolution of your words, my beloved.” She leaned into her brother. “My crimes are chained to my heart. I was the weak one and I have drowned you with me.” She arched her face up to find Pietro’s. “I will not ask for your forgiveness, I know you would give it without hesitation, my love. I will earn it.”

"Thank us?" Pietro frowned, looking up again at Jean, "For what? We are mutants, Jean Grey, and in all this misery of the world, we are all we have. Those monsters out there, both the Brotherhood and the Friends of Humanity, they think that we cannot be together without murdering each other, and I think sometimes perhaps we cannot. But then I remember your child, and I see a hope there, a hope that our time with the Brotherhood tried to crush."

He leaned down and pressed his cheek to Wanda's and said, "You will earn my forgiveness by getting well. We were happy once, my love, do you remember? Do you remember who we were? I was a foolish little boy with my head in the clouds, and my feet tripping over one another." He didn't look at Jean but he spoke to her, "She is ill, Miss Grey, she wasn't always like this."

She listened to his words and suddenly knew what Ari meant be ‘compelling’ when she described him. “Human or mutant. this is a hard world to live in,” she thought of Rosie, “with people always willing to crush something precious. just because they can.”

Wanda drew Pietro’s attention once again; her cheek rested against his as she nodded. “I will try to be well again,” she said, although her heart sank. She’d tried getting well before and had stolen the child. Pietro hoped she would someday be well again; as she leaned harder into his embrace, the irrational part of her mind began poisoning the rest, saying that - Pietro will leave when he realizes the sister he knew is dead and never coming back. Wanda knew that if she was really a good person, she would set him free of her but instead, she clung to Pietro, her fingers grabbing into his Quicksilver uniform, suddenly afraid of him leaving.

Jean nodded, she wasn’t delving into either of their minds, it was easy to tell that neither of them were the picture of good mental health. “When this is over and we get you back to the school, I promise, I’ll do what I can to help her- to help both of you.”

Pietro nodded to Jean, "I believe you, though I need no help but what you can give to her. I want her happy. I do not make her so. As much as I have tried, I am not enough for her. Maybe with a family around her, maybe with people who want to help instead of harm, these clouds will lift." It might be telling to Jean that Pietro was not at all surprised at Wanda's ailment. He had seen far too much to be startled by anything she could do, but it broke his heart that this time her powers had turned on herself.

Wanda clung to him as if she feared he was leaving, and he said, "My love, my love, shhhh, I'm going nowhere. I am here with you. I will always be here with you even when you are sick of the sound of my voice and the sight of my face." He stroked her matted hair and said, "I was born fifteen minutes before you, my love, and I wept every moment until you were laid in the cradle beside me." His voice has taken on the quality of someone telling a child a fairy tale, "I was never so alone. But once you were there with me, I was whole. We are one person, in two bodies. Only together can we be complete."

What must Jean think of such talk? Would she be like the Brotherhood, snap to judge, quick to hate and condemn? Or would she dare try and understand who they were, and what life was for them?

Jean watched them, unable not to observe what was happening with a therapist’s clinical eye. Pietro had the air of a man long-practiced at talking Wanda down from a frantic, possibly suicidal, state by bringing up times when they were young and happy. Calming Wanda had probably become such second nature to him, he hardly thought of it anymore. She watched Wanda’s fingers uncurl, his presence: what he was saying or how he was saying it, was having it tranquilizing effect.

“It seems that you underestimate your ability to make her happy,” Jean said, using her own ‘don’t disturb the patient’ soothing voice. “But I think you may be mistaken about something else. When Wanda functions better, you’ll need to learn how to be something besides her caregiver.”

“Always together,” Wanda murmured, comforted in her new darkness existence.

Pietro untangled himself from his sister's arms, though he remained tightly holding her hand so she would know he was near. He rose, and the movement was a little too rapid for normal humanity, just enough for him to blur at the edges. "What do you mean, Miss Grey? What something are you suggesting?"

His voice had a sudden hardness to it. He was suspicious, but he kept a low tone, not willing to disturb his sister.

The suddenness of his movement was unsettling but her breath only caught in her throat a moment. She suddenly felt the Brotherhood profiles on these two were woefully inaccurate and she would need to add that Pietro Maximoff had a hair-trigger temper. If she flubbed this, she had the feeling she d have to work doubly hard to get a rapport next time. Trusting to her ability to read body language and what she d gleaned already, she ventured into the minefield.

“Being Pietro Maximoff.” She looked at the blinded Wanda holding his hand, “You’ve being caring for her constantly, on your own, for years. You would never complain, but it couldn’t have been-- an easy task. When she’s well, what then?”

He stared at her for a moment, and caught sight of himself reflected in a shiny wall panel behind her. With his hair plastered to his head, the white turned pink by blood, his black soot and gore streaked uniform, trails from tears of death and grief crossing his face, he did not recognize himself. He took a step away from the X-Man, his shame suddenly flooding his face. He looked away and said, "I don't know, Miss Grey. You have been in our presence for only five minutes. You don't know Pietro Maximoff. There is nothing all too appealing to him. The only decent thing I have ever done was care for my sister and you can tell how badly I have done at that."

She watched him turn away, looking distracted and miserable but she had to concede to his words. “You’re right, I don’t know Pietro Maximoff,” she quietly wondered if he knew Pietro Maximoff either. “You make him sound like you don’t think he’s a person worth getting to know, perhaps we should start there,” she turned away and looked back to the pilot’s chair, “when this is done and she rests easy.”

"We have distracted you from your work." Pietro said, quietly, relieved she was turning away from him and his persona. How could a woman like this ever understand the depths he would allow himself to sink to in order to save his sister's body, mind, soul? What tragedies would a woman of such beauty and compassion have faced? He lowered his head in half a bow, "When this is done, I will allow whatever punishment you see fit for me."

He spoke to her in all serious and that’s how she replied. “We’re the X-Men, not the government. We try to keep people safe- everyone- even from themselves.” She turned and left the twins, wondering how many of the Brotherhood were as miserable and desperate as those two.

She leaned back in Scott’s chair and took stock of the situation

Pietro returned to his vigil beside his sister and he rested his head tiredly on the bench beside her. Quietly, so quietly that only she could hear, he began to sing a soft lullabye, one their mother used to sing. His voice was hoarse with exhaustion, and the gentle sounds seemed odd coming from this ragged and miserable man, but in his mind’s eye he was the handsome gypsy prince her spell in the park had made him, and she was the gypsy princess. They danced in graceful pirouettes in the ballroom she had created and just for a time forgot what hell he had lead them into in the misplaced name of family.
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Lou
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Temperature manipulation/Life-force absorption/Fear projection
As soon as she entered the Blackbird everything became a tunnel. To Lou there was no way out of her mess but going forward. Instead of a light at the end of a dark enclosing abyss there was her and the length in which she dared to go. It was a place which ultimately would decide whether she would succeed against fear or allow it to consume everyone in their path.

Throughout the plane ride she had been silent. No reaction was given when the Scarlet Witch attacked. When the fire started to lap the jet the only indignation that she had seen it was a lift of an eyebrow. Was she afraid? It was hard to tell because at this point Hallow wouldn't wear her emotions on her sleeve. Unbeknownst of any of those sitting near her, she was mental preparing herself as a target.

The landing was uneventful as well as walking into the bloodied streets. Her pale face was still expressionless to a degree. Even when Colin nudged her to move on Lou just stared at him for a second. This was not going to be a jog along the beach. Others were involved. Innocents had already been lost but not by her own hands. Not today, not ever again was she going to let that happen.

Lou, for the first time ever, did not take her surroundings in. Deep down she knew if her dark grey eyes saw the blood, the gore it would make the regret to much to bare. Every bit of her powers hurt a person in some way. Today it would be the fear in everyone’s mind. Normally events they were experiencing the moment the temperature fell wouldn't be relived. But today, would it be so?

Still outside the Friends of Humanity building, stupidly she allowed her protector go in ahead. Hopefully Stretch and Orbital knew of her abilities because there was no time to warn them. Taking a deep breath the fear-bringer focused greatly on sucking away every bit of the warm air. Slowly the temperature dropped so far that a white could of breath circled her head. At the sound of gun shots her slender form walked into the building.

"I wouldn't be so cocky," Hallow remarked to Colin after he had dropped the rest of the guards. Long before she had spoken the pink-skinned mutant would have known something was wrong. The air around him would have dropped to that of a late fall day; cold enough for his breath to billow but not enough to freeze the air completely. But what would state her peculiar entrance would be the dancing of small fears in his mind.

As though on cue, one of the guards began to whimper quietly to himself. A fear not as intense as the situation he was in started to repeatedly play in his mind. The others still awake began to react to their fears as well as the whimpering guard. They stayed down even though some could still stand. No one had given them and order to make their disillusions real.

As though she still couldn't see her surroundings Hallow looked up to Colin. "I be the distraction," she stated coolly. "So ya can have a bit of advantage. Just don't be gettin' over confident. There are others who make fears real." The last bit was an unsaid warning. Nodding her obsidian black head she beckoned for her protector to lead. Was it too much to hope that no fearful confrontation would occur?
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Sabertooth
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((JP with Orbital and Sabertooth.))

It wasn't that Creed needed a ward or babysitter -- but with Vibe leaving his post to go confront the X-Men as they flew in on the Blackbird, it left the large mutant by himself to tend to authorities trying to access the Friends of Humanity headquaters.

No doubt he was more than capable of handling himself in the enforcer role -- but at what cost?

Gunfire rang out through the streets, from a squad of police officers brandishing pistols -- but it did nothing to halt the advancing, adamantium beast known as Sabertooth.

Every kill, every slash and rip, drove his mind further into that feral bloodlust -- and it was visible in his eyes, as he charged towards the squad in a four-point run with his knuckles, launching his massive frame into the fray as a fearsome roar sounded out through the air.

"TAKE COVER!" One of the officers yelled, as Sabertooth tore into the ranks like a ten-pin ball through a series of pins. An angry snort, followed by a gruesome snarl -- and bodies were flayed like they weighed absolutely nothing, torn apart and tossed aside. The screaming officer tried to run, but Sabertooth's massive hand caught the crown of his skull -- and giving a vicious sort of look, crushed it under his titanic strength.

A mess of death, blood, and anguish -- and it all drove the man known as Victor Creed away, and brought the monster known as Sabertooth to the surface.

"Heads up, everyone, second floor! Cyclops is up here with positive Brotherhood confrontation. We're gonna need backup."

The bloodthirsty, feralistic mutant's sensitive hearing picked up on the radio chatter heard through the broken window frames along the structure's second floor -- and he looked up to the source, head cocked like some predator on the prowl, nose drawing in the scent.

Another kill.

From his knuckles drew those four adamantium claws per hand with a long, deep 'shhhrk', and approaching the mortarwork wall of the Friends of Humanity headquarters, he drove them into the exterior, creeping up along the wall in a slow approach -- before finding the perfect spot for an ambush.

Roy was halfway down the hall in a jog, those shields circling his body in gravitational orbit, desperately trying to reach the area where the debris from Havok's plasma blasts blocked off access to the two brothers -- but before he could get anywhere near, the bestial predator launched through the shattered window frame with a hellacious, outright possessed scream of a roar -- and landed in a braced, four-point stance, strafing left and right mildly as a mad, predatory growl rose from his huge throat, amber eyes not moving from Roy for a second.

Of course, to shield himself from the flying debris of Sabertooth's approach through the wall, Orbital stopped in his tracks, arms in front of his face to ward away the bits of stone and sheetrock flying every which way -- but it was the sight of this snarling, blood-drooling mutant that started to coax his steps back the hall a bit, with Sabertooth advancing two inches for every inch given.

There was fear in Roy's eyes, no doubt -- and his hang rose to the earpiece at the side of his head.

"Put a rush on that, people, I need backup here, PRONTO!" He shouted, as Creed began to gnash his teeth, claws slowly drawing from his hands again ...

And he pounced. It was only a split-second, but it might as well be an eternity -- that massive, shaggy, blood-soaked beast launching at him like a cat would a mouse.

But unlike the officers outside, Orbital was more than capable of protecting himself -- and with speed unseen in anything else, those orbiting shields around him came together in a nanosecond, forming a makeshift wall between Creed and him, fending off those adamantium claws.

But the beast wouldn't be denied so easily. A frustrated, angered roar -- and claws slashed against the composite surface, raking through one like a knife through an aluminum can.

Roy grit his teeth, not to be outdone -- and that floating wall of shields pushed back with incredible force, throwing Creed off his feet and back a little ways.

The animal in him wouldn't give up the attack -- he wanted to close the space once more, and go in for the kill.

But Roy was prepared now -- and those shields were once all around his form again, spaced in a circular rotation about three feet out from his body -- and they were turned laterally, spinning incredibly quickly, with motion rivalling that of a circular saw.

Creed's crazed look was met by a solid glare right back into those amber irises. Though insane, he wasn't stupid -- and stepping into those fast-moving shields would severely injure him.

It was a stalemate -- but in a sense, quite unintentionally, Creed had done Mystique's bidding.

He separated Orbital from Cyclops.
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Cyclops
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
JP Mystique, Cyclops and Havok

As Havok moved down the hallway towards the sound of Cyclops' voice Mystique filled Noxious in on their new plan and directed him into a room just off to the side where he would wait for her signal. She could hear the sound of the Summers brother's voices before Alex took off running down the hallway towards her position and she closed her eyes briefly.

When she opened them it was Alex's blue eyes that stared out towards the lobby. It was Alex's face, Alex's voice, Alex's stature that Cyclops would see and speak to, but it was not Alex. Havok ducked into the same room where Noxious lay in wait only a split-second before Cyclops rounded the corner behind him.

'Alex's' expression hardened at the words Scott spoke. "No, Cyclops, you have to stop," he shot back, Mystique's mind working fluidly behind his appearence to slip into his character. "This is the only way, why can't you see that?"

"Because you are wrong." Cyclops said, his voice firm, his jaw clenched, "Alex, you're wrong. These people, they're bigots and they're monsters, but they are a minority. By doing this, all you are doing is proving their point, proving that we are a danger to innocents and need to be eradicated. You want to save the mutant race? Then, look around you, and see what sort of image you're projecting." There was no pleading in his voice, just strength and the sheer belief that he was speaking truth.

"We're proving a point, that we're not just going to roll over and let the humans stomp on us like they do their own," he spat. "Peace doesn't work, Cyclops, or haven't you noticed? Haven't you noticed that no matter what you do, no matter how many of their kind you save, that they still fear and hate you? You can put your own life on the line saving theirs and they still want to see you dead."

Cyclops shook his head, feeling boiling rage bubbling in his chest. How could his brother come to this? What had the Brotherhood told him to turn him into this violent racist? "Our parents were human, Alex, our grandparents, your adopted parents. Would you kill them too? Not all human are like the FOH, they don't all hate. They are scared, yes, but we can teach them not to hate, and that fear will eventually go away."

"How are we supposed to teach them anything with bigots like the FOH spreading hate and fear like a plague?" Mystique took a step forward, the expression on Alex's face changing from something hard and unyeilding to a look that practically begged Scott to listen to him. "There is no hope for you to spread peace while the FOH still works against you, can't you see that? We are helping you by removing them from the picture. Once their organization is burned to the ground then maybe there is a chance for mutants to prove that we are not all...evil."

Cyclops saw the change on his brother's face and he realized that no matter what Alex thought he was, he was just a relative child, new to his powers and to what in means to be a mutant. He only knew what he had been taught, like any child. He held his hands out to him and said, "Alex, look, I understand what you're going through, I do, and what you said at the mall was right. I should've been there. I should've been there to show you hope. But it's not too late. I can help you now, though, but not if you commit murder, terrorism."

Alex's eyes grew cold again, distant, with a slight edge of rage to the line of tension in his jaw. "But you weren't there, were you?" he said coldly, his voice low. "You were too busy saving a race that hates you to even bother to look for me, your own brother."

"You're right." Cyclops said, quietly, "I thought I was protecting you. I thought you were happy, I thought I was protecting you from this kind of ugliness. Let me help you now, let me protect you."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You're too late. I don't need you to protect me. Maybe I did earlier, but not anymore. Now I think it's you that need my help. You can't win if you keep going like this. The X-men are fools, and if you can't see that...well then, maybe you're a fool, too."

Cyclops couldn't understand why Alex simply didn't get it. He had made such quick judgements and there were unchangable? Was there nothing he could say that would help to change his mind? "Maybe we are fools, Alex," he said, again using his brother's name, trying to remind the tragically manipulated younger man who he really was. Not Havok, not just a mutant, but Alex Summers, who'd once trusted him, and though Scott knew he had lost that trust through his own doing, maybe he could find a way to re-earn it. "But we're trying, trying to fix things without killing, without murdering, and if we die doing it, at least we die with our consciences at rest."

Ugh. Scott was just so noble it made Mystique want to be sick, or wipe that valiant look off his face, but none of that showed outwardly as Alex scoffed at his words. "Well you just let me know how that goes," he remarked cooly.

Cyclops wanted to reach out and shake him, to do whatever it took to make his brother see. He took a step forward, knowing that he was not going to be able to talk him down. "I will, Alex, I will let you know, and you'll understand someday what we are trying to achieve. But no matter what happens, no matter when that day comes, this moment, right now, I am going to stop you from making this worse. I love you, little brother, I always have, and if I can't make you see sense with words, I'm more than willing to do it with my fist."

When Cyclops took a step forward Alex put one foot back, hands curling into fists by his side. Now came the real tricky part of the charade; Mystique could mimic Alex's persona all she wanted but she couldn't fake his powers. "Weren't you just telling me violence isn't the way?" he said. "Or are you a hypocrite as well as a traitor to your race?"

"This isn't hypocritical, and this has nothing to do with race," Cyclops, "This is you and me, Alex, and violence is on occasion is useful. But there is difference between force and terrorism, and that's the lesson you and the Brotherhood need to learn."

"There is no 'you and me', Cyclops," he said, putting emphasis on his codename as if to point out that he wasn't interested in familiarity. "You lost your chance to be my brother years ago."

"I'm sorry for that, Alex." Cyclops said, "And, I hope I can change that when you're not so brainwashed by hate."

"I'm not the brainwashed one!" Havok suddenly shouted, stepping out of the room where he'd been hidden. He'd been listening, and some of Scott's words... No, it was all a trick, right? He had to be trying to con him, somehow. Why did he sound sincere then? Why did he... Havok was so confused, so angry and sad and scared all at once that it made it hard to think. He hadnt meant to shout, to spoil the illusion Mystique had planned, but he simply had been unable to help it.

Cyclops's gaze shot to this second appearance of his brother and then back to the false one, "Mystique!" he said, his voice almost a growl. His hand shot up to his visor.

Mystique reacted instantly as the real Havok stepped into view and reached for the scrambler weapon behind her back, firing twice in quick succession without a second's hesitation as Cyclops' hand went to his visor. She didn't wait for Scott to recover and took a running leap forward, bringing one foot up and slamming it in an arching kick against the side of his head.

There was a sensation of something slamming into his mind, and for one painful second, he was blinded with color. The world seemed very green as his powers shut down, and he gasped. That was all the opportunity she needed to attack. He caught the kick fully and completely, and the color went dark. Cyclops crumpled to the ground.

Havok took one step forwards, his fists balled and glowing, "Is he... did you hurt him?"

Mystique aimed the weapon at Havok next as she returned to her own form, backing him up against the wall. "He will recover, but let me make something perfectly clear, Havok," she hissed lowly. "If you ever disobey orders like that again and jeopardize my position, then I will end you both. Do you understand me?"

Havok stepped back, pressed against the wall frightened beyond belief right now, "Y-yes, Ma'am." Never mind that he could probably unleash his powers and roast her alive, never mind that he hadn't meant to do anything wrong. He was so completely lost, all he knew right now was emotion, logic and reason having fled a long time ago, and those emotions were entirely gripped in Mystique's vicious blue hand.

She lowered the weapon immediately and stepped back away from him. Something close to sympathy appeared in her eyes. "Remember, Alex, I am here to try and help him, but you must trust me," she said gently, fully aware of how lost he was feeling at the moment. His emotions were as plain as day on his face and she knew how to play them, and play them well.

Havok relaxed, but only a little, "Yes, Ma'am." he said, quietly, "So... he'll be all right? You'll take him back to the base and... deprogram him? How are you going to get him out of here? They'll come after him."

"Scott will be fine, and he'll be a new man once I'm done, you just wait and see," she offered comfortingly, casting a glance down at the prone figure on the floor. "I'll explain everything later, but right now, we have to go. Noxious will see to it that he does not wake while we evacuate him from the building, and I will see to it that his team has bigger things to worry about."

"What can I do to help?" Havok asked, remembering suddenly where he was, and what they were there to do. He was a soldier, and this was a war. The family stuff would have to wait. But still in his mind, he heard his brother's words. Had he meant them? Especially the ones regarding their relationship? Had that all been a ploy, deviousness in his mental manipulation? He couldn't concentrate on that now. He still had a job to do.

"Help Noxious get your brother out of the building and to the designated rendezvous point. Your part of the mission is over, Alex. Concentrate on getting to safety." She cast one last glance to Scott as she picked up her weapons, among which was a suspicious looking round metal object that she kept clenched tightly in her left hand. Raising her right, she pressed a finger to the transmitter in her ear. "Mission complete. All Brotherhood must evacuate the building immediately."

"Yes, Ma'am." Alex said, and he crouched over his brother, to pick him up. He was afraid to touch him for a minute, but then, he wrapped his arms around him. Even though Noxious was larger and stonger than him, he'd definitely support the bulk of the weight. This was, after all, his burden to bear.

As Alex hefted Cyclops off the floor Mystique pulled the X-man's communicator from him and held it up to her mouth, but it was Scott's voice that echoed across the frequency. "X-men, this is an emergency evacuation order. Get out of the building immediately. Havok is going to bring down the structure," she said. "I repeat, get out of the building now and return to the Blackbird."

She dropped the communicator on the ground and motioned towards the stairwell. "Move out," she said simply to Noxious and Havok before going around the other way, dissapearing down a side-hallway towards the elevator shaft.
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Jean
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Telepathy, Telekinesis
"X-men, this is an emergency evacuation order. Get out of the building immediately. Havok is going to bring down the structure," [Cyclops’ voice] said. "I repeat, get out of the building now and return to the Blackbird."

Jean heard the message come over her earpiece. The team would be coming back soon; she opened the rear hatch and turned off the defensive mode. She leaned back and peered out through the eyes of the team, one by one, double-checking their progress and making sure that they hadn’t been compromised by Fate or any other new Brotherhood member with mind control abilities: Storm, Flux, Hallow, Dragon, Iceman, Stretch, Orbital, Angel, Polaris, and Rock-Solid.

As she entered each mind of her team she asked the same questions.

:: What’s your status? … Do you need any help? … See you back at the Blackbird soon. ::

To Flux she added another question. :: Flux, we’ve already got two Brotherhood members in the Blackbird containment cells. When you get back, I’ll reach in and put our little fashion-victim DJ to sleep before you open it up. :: After a moment she added in a slightly concerned voice. :: The sphere you enclosed him in was solid lead … but you did include air holes, didn’t you? ::

As she got her responses from the team, part of her mind wondered about Scott; normally, she would’ve heard something more but her link to him remained silent. She reached out, trying to glean any emotional signature at the other end but nothing came. She closed her eyes and sighed, that didn’t bode well. After the confrontation at the mall, he’d done the same thing and this was a thousand times worse; she wasn’t surprised that Scott didn’t want to deal with the heartache until later.
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Jayson
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Stone Touch / Super Strength
Mayhem, yes, was the best description of this building. Everywhere you looked there was destruction. Bodies, blood, and gore were spewed about everywhere. How could one place hold so much damage? How could mere mortals cause all of this?

Jayson's eyes narrowed with each flicker of the remaining lighting. The teen tried to ignore the pestering thoughts of wondering what these people's last seconds of life were. Right now was her true first experience of mortality in the fullest degree. Life before the mansion was hard and she had seen her share of others’ hardships. This, however, was too much. If not rescuing people from the ever present horror she might have run.

But no, Jayson stayed and trudged forward. Both Cyclops's instructions and Polaris's explanation of her powers were committed to memory. The scene around the group wasn't shielded from their eyes. The stone-turner saw everything no matter how disturbing it was. No matter what she knew that nightmares would disturb peaceful sleep for many nights after this was over. No matter what she continued forward.

Then she saw them, the men in similar uniforms heading their way. Cyclops wasn't the only who had been staring at the exposed vent. 'Notice everything' was one of things the red head had learned watching her step-cousins. This wasn't babysitting...

At the sound of the bullets Rock-solid threw her arms up defensively. Her whole body flinched. Being stronger than most meant she could shove a man through a wall or throw off a punch. There was no way she was bullet proof, too. ~That's odd,~ she thought. A tightly closed eye opened in time to see Cyclops diffused optical beam. How...? "The shield," was all that was said.

"And, make this hall a statuary," [Cyclops] told Rock-Solid. A blank stare was all her team leader got. ~What did he just say,~ Jayson thought while she wasted precious seconds. The way he gave the order made the teen think it was in her best interest to do what he said. At first her feet moved slowly then she tripped forward and began to walk fast. Bending down next to the nearest man her bare hand touched his forehand.

The stone traveled fast like a wave. From the mutant's hand the skin turned hard gray from beneath it spreading outward. Whatever clothing or armor the guy was wearing it too became as though he looked a Gorgon in the eye. One by one the stoner-turner touched the poor souls. They were now frozen in that one second of self-imposed terror. The expressions of surprise, of freight, were still written clearly on all their faces.

There was no time for the mind to think. No time to plan anything or to understand. Instinct took over as some sort of energy blast hit the ceiling. It exploded, end of story. Debris was falling around them. Behind her was a clear path but she didn't take. Instead she ran forward and pushed Polaris out of the way. Just in time for the red head to be hit with the rubble meant for her green haired teammate.

For about fifteen seconds Jayson laid motionless upon the ground. There was a cut on her forehead. The blood streamed down into one of her eyes. A coating of dust covered the uniform put on for the first time for her first major mission. An ungloved hand flexed. Luckily it had touched Polaris's uniform. She wouldn't be like those guards, a stone statue of herself. Then it hit something worse than having the ceiling cave-in atop your head.

"No," she sat up abruptly. "Have to get them from under the debris," she exclaimed. By now Scott was no where but her mind didn't register the foolishness of her boss leaving his team. But that wasn't the priority something else was. Her left leg couldn't move. It hurt as well. Bracing herself the best she could, the stone-turner attempted to push a large piece of the ceiling off it. Inch-by-inch it moved but it wouldn't be fast enough. "Damn."

"X-men, this is an emergency evacuation order. Get out of the building immediately. Havok is going to bring down the structure," [Cyclops's voice] said. "I repeat, get out of the building now and return to the Blackbird."

"What in the world are they thinking?" Jayson questioned the air. There was no more time to waste. They had to leave. The men had to be unburied before her powers wore off. How long were they going to stay stone, she did not know. Heck, the boulder on her foot had to be removed. One last shove with her face clinched in pain she pushed it off completely. The stone-turner stood, wavered for a second, and fell against the wall behind her. "Damn," she repeated again.

Without another moment's wasted, Rock-solid fell to her knees. With her bare hands she began to lift the heaviest material off the men of stone. "Have to save them," she stated more to herself then anyone. Jean's mental message went unanswered. Clearing the rubble was more important than to answer a telepathic message.
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Noxious
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There was something exceptionally ... entertaining, watching Mystique go to town with absolute asskickery. Granted, Nox would've liked to have dealt the knockout blow himself -- he was more than capable of it.

But he respected Mystique, and knew she was more than capable of handling herself.

Respect. Mutual. She did what she had to do ... and he did, too.

Just as the fight began, the Irish mutant materialized close by the far wall -- back turned to the crowd, puffing on his smoke, as he glanced to its embering end with a narrowing of his eyes.

Unequivocably cool.

A smooth exhale of smoke -- and he glanced over his shoulder at Mystique launching in that kick, brow lifted at the hang-time she caught before making a comically-exaggerated, wincing 'ooo' of pain as that foot made contact with the side of Scott's head.

Oh snap.

"Anyone ever tell ye ye're a wee bit o' a control freak, lass?" He musingly chimed in with that raspy voice of his, before giving a little grin, wisps of smoke leaving his wide smile.

A calm gait, as he walked closer to the reeling Cyclops, barely moving from that heavy kick -- though groggily trying to find his bearings.

"Help Noxious get your brother out of the building and to the designated rendezvous point. Your part of the mission is over, Alex. Concentrate on getting to safety."

A look to the both of them with those cold gray eyes. Pssh. Help? She knew he didn't need a hand with anything -- but if she wanted a babysitter for a few minutes, he'd handle Alex for a bit longer.

With an aloof, mockingly-curious expression lifting his heavy brows, Nox crouched down just by Cyclops, as he began to rouse slightly, uttering a grunt of pain. The sight drew a smirk from the Irishman, as he shook his head with a light 'tsk-tsk' -- and with a bit of firmness in his grip, his hand clasped around Scott's lower jaw.

"Quite a predicament ye've gotten yerself into, Ace," Nox murmured, leaning in closer as he said those words in that deep, casual rasp of his.

There was a wince of pain clearly on Scott's face -- but the struggle wouldn't last much longer. From skin to skin, a quick transfer of sodium thiopental -- just the right dose to keep him out for a healthy six hours.

A dull thump -- and Scott lay against the floor completely, in a deep, drug-induced sleep.

A smirk, and Nox's hand released from around his jaw, to lightly pat Scott's face.

"Sweet dreams, Scotty-boy," he murmured, out of the earshot of Alex. "The nightmare's only just begun."

A puff of his smoke, and Nox rose to his booted feet, looking to Alex as Mystique left the area.

"Ready tae travel in style, lad?" He said, giving a snide little grin before slowly hoisting Scott's sleeping frame against his. With one arm around the unconscious X-Man, his other reached out to Alex's.

"It's odd-feelin' at first, but it's the only way tae travel," he murmured -- and as soon as Alex held onto his hand, he'd understand.

All three of them slowly dissipated into gas -- and, strangely enough, through the whole experience, Alex could see everything. It all seemed so cloudy, so distant -- he had no control over where he was going. This was Nox's doing, and his way of getting to their designated rally point.

A hazy, drifting pass over the headquarters building, over a few city blocks -- and to a fairly well-hidden basketball court nestled amongst some buildings which hid that Chinook helicopter he previously saw at the Brotherhood base.

Grounded, from being so high up -- and the three rematerialized, in a slower process than if Nox would travel just by himself. That so much was a given -- reassembling three individuals molecularly down to the clothing on their backs wasn't exactly easy compared to just one.

Handing Cyclops to Havok, Nox took a few strides over to the chopper, smoke held between his lips as he opened the rear hatch, to give the pair someplace to enter.

"Ye may wan' tae strap your big brother in nice 'n tight," he said, giving a slight arch to his brow. "Wouldn't want him tae be slidin' around everwhere."

A calm whistle -- too calm, as he headed over to the other side of the chopper, into the pilot's seat, as he slipped on the headset and did a final diagnostic on all the switches and controls.

A radio in to Mystique. "Fer a planner, ye sure take your sweet time," he teased, followed by a barely-audible chuckle under his low, raspy breath. "Rotors an' engines are a go. We're just waitin' on ye an' the others, lass."
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Alexander Bennett
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The battle was not an open sucess. In his office, casually listening to the carnage beneath, only half hoping that someone would've actually made it to him- he listened much closer than those around him deemed possible.

He wasn't angry- certainly not happy, but really.. the two panned so well into his plan. The addition of a certain telepath only made things easier; the xmen would come.

The moment he heard her call for them, the moment that Cyclops had been alerted- Alexander moved to take his leave. The rubble around him was no longer useful, and as promised, Nate had already alerted the press. The xmen hadn't been there long, but the press hadn't been either- the arrived after, and in their minds.. it was a joint effort. Two terrorist groups. Cowering in the grass and along the edges of the building like roaches waiting for the lights to go out- the media watched, relaying everything that happened- with a twist of course- to the world outside.

The brotherhood had succeeded- but not in the intended form. Yes, people now knew the superiority of mutants- but they also knew their destructive and murderous tendancies.

Perfect- absolutely perfect. Even as he left without a hint of notice by those around, he could sense the emmence backlash this would have. It'd been months ago that he'd realized- an outright attack would do nothing. It'd make for bad press... But waiting? The sacrafice was worth it. Who needed a militia when you had the world and the government at your feet?

And- in the rubble- Alexander would rise. America would need a hero to help cope with the ruin that was the attack on the FOH headquarters- and who better than a man who'd suffered often at the hands of the diobolical mutants? The Xmen could run- the brotherhood could fight back. But eventually, they'd feel the results of the events of the day.

And what a wonderfully clear day it was turning out to be.


PLEASE NOTE:

FINAL CALL FOR CLOSING POSTS.
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Warren Worthington
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After leaving Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch in Jean’s very capable hands, Warren took to the skies once more. He saved those that he could, some he landed to ask their permission to escort from the area, others he simply swept up judging their situation too dangerous, or their injuries to severe to be standing around trying to persuade them he was one of the good guys and he really did want to help.

His general blood drenched appearance coupled with the black leather didn’t really help the situation. Neither did being punched repeatedly in the shoulder by a distraught business woman. It made flying while carrying someone that much more of a challenge

He understood that they were very distressed and all that but sometimes he wished people would just shut up, stay still and be grateful sometimes. He didn’t want their thanks either, especially considering most of them hated him on sight and these were the people who had left Rosie in that box. He was also finding that the blood was matting his feathers together as it dried, caking most of his wings in rust coloured gore, which was in turn hindering his flying somewhat. They were all little niggles though, that could be easily pushed away in the light of the destruction and disaster below him.

"X-men, this is an emergency evacuation order. Get out of the building immediately. Havok is going to bring down the structure," she said. "I repeat, get out of the building now and return to the Blackbird."

There was crackle over his radio and the Scott’s voice broke in. Warren swore, changing his course away from the FOH building, back towards it. He knew that Scott had ordered them back but he could help his team evacuate, and maybe persuade some of the reporters who had gathered around the building that it was time to move on.

“Does anyone need help with getting back to the Blackbird?” he questioned into his radio, waiting for a response while he circled above the building. When the responses generally came back as negative, Warren wheeled around, back towards the Blackbird. The reporters seemed to be retreating of their own accord and he spared no more than a cursory glance at them before flying onwards.
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Jara
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Jara had recovered somewhat from that little encounter with the flash grenade. Once her precursory snarling died down and she finally removed her blood-soaked hands from her eyes, she cast a suspicious look across the hallway, expecting another armed guard to bear down on her. Instead, the expanse was absolutely silent. The 'advanced' armed personel were disposed of... and her dear friend Fate was long gone.

The changeling gave an aggravated growl, moreso when Fate spoke into her mind from God-knows-where. But the warning to leave sounded like a good one. She could feel slight tremors run across the floor, the building protesting the flood of abuse the Brotherhood had inflicted on it, coupled with the muted roar of an occasional explosion. But other than that, nothing. The screams were all but gone. And on her floor, Jara was left with nothing more than the constant drip of blood still trickling from the ceiling and the bodies strewn across the floor.

They no longer held much of Jara's interest. She could smell them growing stale, cold. And while she had killed them herself, they just didn't seem as appetizing once they stopped thrashing. That, or she was starting to grow full.

She made her rounds of this floor, walking down hallways with a confident stride around the silent corpses littering the floor, the triumphant invader surveying the lands of her conquest. She felt utterly content, and not a worry in the world was cast towards the on-fighting occurring in the remaining floors of the building, or how the blood rain outside had ceased to be. It wasn't often that her bloodlust was allowed to run its full course, but when it did, it was a high like no other.

Amber eyes glanced up only temporarily as the sound of jet engines reached her ears. Whatever that was, even Jara had the sense not to confront it. Instead, she felt it was about time she started to make her way down, picking up one of the over-sized cattle prods the FOH guards had been toting. As she had learned previously, not all of the people here could be disposed of with claw and fang alone. Sometimes, you had to hit them from far.

The firepower proved to be unnecessary. Both X-men and Brotherhood alike had disposed of whatever defensive units the FOH had left. As for civilians, they were either evacuated, dead, or had sense enough to play dead while the cannibalistic metamorph prowled past.

"Mission complete. All Brotherhood must evacuate the building immediately."

Well, it wasn't like she was leaving anything behind. This party was dead. Jara cast a glance out a nearby cracked window, narrowed eyes peering at the rooftop across the alleyway with a calculating grin. The glass pane was barely keeping together, the pressure from that crazy gypsy girl's flood testing its tempered limits.

Moments later, the cacophonous sound of shattered glass echoed outside, coupled with the crash of an office desk splintering into a million pieces on the alleyway below. It did little to increase the overall mayhem outside, granted that moments before it was raining blood. You honestly couldn't beat that, as much as Jara was loathe to admit. The changeling stuck a feline head outside the improvised opening, paws grasping the window's edge in a crouch. A few seconds to deliberate, then Jara leaped forwards, the panther sailing across the wide alley and landing onto the opposite rooftop without a hitch, the glorified tazer gun clamped in her jaws like some overgrown retriever. She wasn't thinking much about appearances, however, as she resumed her trek, clearing the rooftop and dropping down to street level one fire escape at a time, the rendezvous point her destination.

She still couldn't quite understand how no one wouldn't notice a Russian helicopter land in the middle of a basketball court. But she supposed a helicopter had more style than, say, your stereotypical evil super-villain subterranean drill transport.

Jara crossed the concrete yard towards the helicopter, her pelt still black and matted with drying blood. It was too much of a good thing, really. Her fur was tangled, and in some places the clotted blood was beginning to yank at her skin depending on how she moved. The jaguar slunk into the back of the helicopter, finally dropping the stun rifle from her mouth and giving an almost canine shake of her body and sending still-wet drops of blood flying across the boarding ramp and into the interior. A moment later she reverted to her human shape, still coated in the red substance.

"Carajo, I even got blood in my ears. Anyone got a towel? Or a toothpick? There's something in my back molar that keeps bothering me," she mused, slipping into a vacant seat and plucking the radio transmitter out of her other ear and trying to gather her hair into a soggy ponytail. When she spotted Cyclops, it was more than obvious. Her eyebrows raised in surprise, tail giving an equally intrigued flick.

"A la gran madre. Now when did that happen? Tch, I always miss the good shit," she sulked, sitting back in her chair. "Nice to see you two had fun." Though it was obvious she'd had her fair share as well.
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Orbital
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((JP - Orbital, Sabertooth, Stretch, Nox and Vibe))

An irritated growl. The one thing an animal didn't like was a stalemate -- to be made to wait, and held back from a potential kill.

But Roy's kohl eyes were impenetrable. He wasn't giving the smallest of inches to the mutant predator -- and he had the mental edge here.

At least, so he felt.

Irritation led to impatience. Drawing his arms back before raising them in a charge, Creed made a wild, howling sort of sound, before darting right into the intense volley of shields surrounding Orbital.

But despite his adamantium-laced skeleton, the barrage was too much -- battered, he retreated a step, staggering from the pain of buffeted internal injuries.

He'd recover, but the look on his wild amber eyes showed it hurt. And, like any hurt animal -- Creed turned tail and ran.

Gripping his large hand around his left shoulder, the large mutant made a growl, launching out the window he burst from just moments before -- and left in a frenzied sprawl across the streets stewn with gore and bodies -- disappearing out of sight.

Needless to say, the experience left Roy a tiny bit shaken -- the shields slowly fell around him as he watched, drawing in heavy breaths from his frame.

Then, the radio.

"X-men, this is an emergency evacuation order. Get out of the building immediately. Havok is going to bring down the structure," she said. "I repeat, get out of the building now and return to the Blackbird."

The sound of Scott's voice came as some relief to him -- he was okay. Giving himself a short nod of commendation, he turned and headed back down the hall, running back to the main lobby.

He was only about halfway into the hall before literally bumping into Stretch, who rounded around the blind corner in a hurry -- and at the slight collision, the pink mutant's heavy hairless brows furrowed in a bit of incredulous confusion.

"Yo, everyt'in okay here, dawg?" He asked Orbital, pointing a thumb to the radio transmitter against the side of his mask. "I hear d'fuckin' SOS ya gave. The fuck, man?"

Roy couldn't help but smirk a bit. "I'm okay, Stretch," he uttered, glancing back down the hall. "Just had a bit of a run-in with one of the Brotherhood back there."

Colin gave a raised brow. "Whoa, no shit, huh?" He said, with a smirk and a friendly little shove to the gravity manipulator's shoulder. "Fuckin' tough guy, holdin' his own here. Who know you was such a badass for a rich kid, huh?"

Orbital did his best to hide a chuckle, gesturing down the other end of the hall from where he came to Stretch. "C'mon, they're probably waiting for us at the jet," he uttered, looking to Hallow with a bit of a smile. "Wouldn't wanna get left behind here."

"Yeah, no fuckin' shit, huh?" Colin chimed in again, straightening the sides of his jacket as he glanced around the hall, before following behind Orbital.

-----

The problem with lead -- while it's an excellent sound nullifier, it's soft, and essentially a metal in base terms -- and if applied with enough sonar pressure, the entire structure could fragment.

Hence why all that was left of Mina's dome was a collection of lead chunks.

Vibe knew exactly where the Chinook was -- the rendezvous point was made known to all Brotherhood members before the mission took place. It was a little ways away from the Friends of Humanity headquarters, but with good reason -- it had to be hidden away, and out from prying eyes.

As Jara entered through the rear hatch, he followed behind, entering into the main passenger area, looking about with a lifted brow as Jara's comment.

"Carajo, I even got blood in my ears. Anyone got a towel? Or a toothpick? There's something in my back molar that keeps bothering me."

"At least ye remember the importance o' chewin'," Nox chimed from the front, glancing to Jara with a smirk and an aloof gaze from the pilot's seat. "Dae ye need travel wipes, lass? Afraid we're plum out in this minivan."

"A la gran madre. Now when did that happen? Tch, I always miss the good shit," she sulked, sitting back in her chair. "Nice to see you two had fun."

Nox puffed at his smoke, giving a glance to Vibe as the sound manipulator lifted his hand in a casual wave before sitting down, signalling that he arrived. But with Jara's further words, he continued the musing conversation, grinning a bit at her mock praise.

"We try," the Irishman said back, a little devious tilt to his smirk that only Jara could really catch before he lifted a mocking little finger to his lips in a 'shh' gesture. "But dun wake him. The boy's clear tuckered out, an' a growin' boy needs his rest."

Eyes looked to Vibe, who was now in his helicopter seat, head bobbing as he listened to his headphones -- but Nox would have his attention.

"Music man," he called out, words louder to catch Trent's attention -- and he did look up, peeling those headphones off his ears. "Ye see Sabertooth anywhere?"

The sound manipulator gave a frank tightening of the lips before shaking his head, twisting his finger by the side of his head to give the internation symbol for 'gone crazy.'

Nox looked back out the windshield, giving a slow sigh that hinted he was none too impressed -- not with Vibe, but with the fact that being out a team member wasn't any good.

If Sabertooth really did regress completely ... there'd be no way of getting to him now. Not even through telepathy.

"Hate tae be the bearer o' bad news, lass," Nox uttered through the radio to Mystique, "But we're down one team member. Jumbo Eddie Munster got away from us in the fight ... an' if I think what happened tae him really did happen tae him, we're nae gettin' him back anytime soon."

Damn. A setback -- but a minor one. If it turned out to be a more permanent thing, they'd have to find a proper recruit.

A bit more muscle couldn't hurt, after all.

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Lorna Dane
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"Make their weapons useless," he ordered Polaris, "And, make this hall a statuary," he told Rock-Solid

Lorna looked at the vent Scott was using to bounce his beams off, noting that if she could rip off the plates they would serve as adequate projectiles and also ways of shielding. She flicked her gaze towards Scott as his order and then towards the men currently firing at the moment.

She raised a hand, focusing her powers with that motion, wrapping magnetic energy around each of the guns. The metal warped and twisted until the objects that had previously been deadly weapons, the humans main method of defence, dropped to the floor with a series of heavy thuds. The men were nothing without their weapons, and Jayson soon finished what Lorna had started; incapacitating them completely. They became strange statues of themselves, frozen in their moments of terror.

So far she had felt detached from the situation, as though she was moving in a dream but that all changed when someone stepped into the corridor. Her heart leapt in her chest despite herself as she recognised Alex, her shield fading as she lost her focus. But he was the enemy, she reminded herself, she was the person they were trying to stop and now he was raising his fist…

“Scott!-” she exclaimed, moving forwards but Alex had already made his move. She felt the heat of his energy blast and then the ceiling was falling down around her, debris bouncing off her arms, as she raised them, and the back of her head. Something smacked into her, knocking her out of the way before the majority of the ceiling could collapse in. She stumbled forwards, her ears and head ringing. She turned around immediately to see the corridor blocked and Jayson under the fallen ceiling. She ran to her team-mates side, looking for some way to ease her out. Scott called out to them, telling them to find another way around.

“We can’t Scott! Rock-Solid was caught under the ceiling” she called out, her voice cracking slightly as she inhaled the dusty air that already coated the inside of her mouth and throat. When she got no answer, she guessed that he had already gone after Alex and she turned back to her team-mate feeling wretched. She wanted to go after them, to help Scott reach Alex but she couldn’t leave the younger X-Woman like this.

Jayson was coming round now, waking up and trying to pull herself out from under the rubble. Lorna helped as best she could, working carefully so she wouldn’t end up pulling the obstruction down on themselves. Soon the girl was free, and Lorna breathed a sigh of relief, ready to help Jayson back to the Blackbird. She would have to sit the rest of this one out. The stone manipulator seemed to have other ideas as she began to try and dig out the men she had frozen.

"X-men, this is an emergency evacuation order. Get out of the building immediately. Havok is going to bring down the structure," [Cyclops's voice] said. "I repeat, get out of the building now and return to the Blackbird."

"Have to save them," [Jayson] stated more to herself then anyone.

“No Jayson, we have to get out of the building. Now” Lorna said firmly. She didn’t want to make such a decision, but she was the more senior of the two. Trying to get the men out would waste the precious time they had been given by Scott to get safely from the building. She had learned that as an X-Man sometimes you had to make decisions like this but weighing another human’s life against that of your own and your team-mate was never easy.

She just hoped that Scott got out safely and Alex…well, Alex she couldn’t think about right now. He had to be nothing to her now, she had let her shield drop when she saw him and so she hadn’t been able to stop the ceiling from falling on her and Jayson. Lorna wasn’t irrational enough to blame herself for the other woman’s injuries, it had been Alex and Alex alone who had caused this and now he was going to bring the building down on their heads.

“Come on. Hold onto me, I’ll get us out.” She told the young girl, wrapping and arm firmly around her team-mate and pulling her to her feet. Levitation would be less painful on the injured woman and Lorna lifted them into the air, energy crackling around them as the green haired woman searched the quickest way out of the building.

OOC: If that’s too much movement of Jayson, let me know and I’ll edit.
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Valyn
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Valyn Dacoras
Really, Talyndal was surprised that no one caused her trouble. None of the mundane humans realized that she was a mutant, or mentioned it if they did, and none of the mutants attacked her.

The first time she went back, someone tried to restrain her, insisted that she get out while she still could. She gave her an emotionless smile and said that she could take care of herself. After that, she seemed to take in the black leather suit that identified Talyn as one of the mutie groups.

“Why are you helping us?” the woman demanded. “You’re one of the freaks… attacking us…” The older woman was clearly in some kind of shock, but there was still some sense in her eyes. She was clutching her side, that had been injured by shrapnel.

“My friends,” Tal whispered, as if imparting a secret. “Are making sure the ones that are attacking don’t hurt anyone else. My team are getting the survivors out.” The pale dragon girl looked around. For the first time since getting out of the blackbird she seemed to take in the blood and gore. She shook slightly, before getting a hold of herself. “This is a nightmare.”

The woman’s eyes softened slightly, and she decided, “You’re a good girl.” That was difficult to say to a mutant when she had thought they were all like the brotherhood for so long, and after the horror of the day, but the girl who saved her was young enough to be her daughter. The “ mutie freak’s ” soft brown eyes looked haunted. It was difficult to hate someone who looked like she was going to fall apart.

The Dragon gave her a watery smile and motioned towards FOH, “I have to see if anyone else is left.” Canting her head at the others she’d brought to this point, for the most part lying on the ground, staring around in a daze. “You’ll look after them for me? Make sure they get medical attention?” she asked in a pleading tone before turning back to the wreckage. She didn’t really want to; for the most part she only found bodies, in various forms of dead. However, she steeled herself. Each person she pulled from the wreckage, saved from death’s grasp, was worth it.

:: What’s your status? … Do you need any help? … See you back at the Blackbird soon. ::

Jean’s words made Dacoras blink. Hmm. Status… Alive, unharmed, and on my way back, was how the dragon was going to reply. However, a cry from to her left changed her mind. "I'll be there in a few," she replied out loud and in her mind, heading into a structure that had had been unfortunate enough to be so near to FOH headquarters.

A glance told her that it used to be someone's home. For the most part it was abandoned, the occupants having fled to at the first signs of attack. At least, the ones that could. There was a young man that was sitting by the window, next to a wheel chair. His legs were in casts, but it seemed he'd tried to get up anyhow. Obviously it hadn't worked.

"Hey," she said softly, approaching. "Let's get you outta here, 'kay?" She expected the suspicious look, taking in her uniform and unusually pale features. "Yes, I'm a freak, and yes, I'm saving your ass. Is that a problem?" The white haired girl smiled.

The youth shook his head, and struggled to get back into his wheelchair.

"Unnecessary," she muttered, crouching down to get a good hold on him. Only 'shifting enough to allow her the strength to carry him, she still looked like the same fragile creature that walked in the door. However, she was carrying the young man (with awkward casts) bridal style out the door. He looked very embarrassed, so she didn't say anything about it. Even though, it was about the only funny thing about the entire situation.

After she returned to the group of survivors, she settled him down next to the woman. "Take care of yourselves," she said, not quite happy about leaving them like that. With a sharp nod, she turned abruptly and began running to the blackbird as if she wasn't worn out. Physically, she was actually fine, but mentally, emotionally, she was exhausted. Entering the jet, she commented, sounding slightly numb, "There's a group of survivors at the edge of town, injured but they're going to be fine." Depending on your definition of fine. After all, the only ones she had to deal with were the injured. The unscathed ones had fled immediately.
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Mina
Unregistered

((JP with Flux, Mystique, Orbital, and Stretch))



Once the rest of the team had moved into the building Flux left her position by the Blackbird and headed towards the headquarters at a jog. She spared a brief glance towards the lead dome encasing Vibe and did a quick check of its structural integrity. It would hold for a bit longer but she was sure his sonic waves would break through it eventually. Still, she couldn’t be bothered with that; he was contained for the moment and they were able to get around him without a major confrontation, and that was exactly what she had intended.

The cloying smell of blood and death hit her like a battering ram and she wrinkled her nose slightly in distaste, glancing down as her boots fought to gain traction on the slippery, blood-soaked floor. There was so much of it that there was absolutely no way it could just come from the dead and the injured scattered over the lobby. A wash of water replaced the blood as Mina switched around some of the atoms to ease the overall view of carnage, but she didn’t stay long. Orbital’s call for backup reached her and she sprinted towards the second floor stairwell.

To her left she could see Polaris and Rock-solid as a wall of debris crashed around them and she narrowly avoided getting caught behind it as well. A few more running steps and she skidded around a corner…

Right into a volley of gunfire.

Her hands went up instinctively and the bullets seemed to hit an invisible wall, bursting into small puffs of fire and energy. She reached out towards the weapons next, separating the iron, carbon, and tungsten in the steel. There was no fiery explosion to this, though, and the weapons simply dissolved away.

“I am not here to hurt you,” she said gently and calmly, keeping her hands up to show she was unarmed – as far as conventional weapons went, at least. She didn’t particularly expect this group of FOH soldiers to believe her and back down, but it was worth a shot. “We are here to help you. It was not us that launched the attack.”

“You’re all mutants.” This came from the soldier nearest to her. “What difference does it make?”

Flux let out a small sigh. “The difference is I am going to let you walk out of here, while the group that did this would have killed you on sight.” She was about to go on when Scott’s voice crackled over the radio and whatever else she was about to say went out the window. “Get out of the building. Get your men and go,” she said quickly, and she was met only blank, suspicious stares. “I said GO!”

That seemed to snap them out of whatever stupor they’d been in and they immediately filed past her, though they gave her a wide berth. She gave one last visual sweep of the hallway before turning back the way she came, heading down the hallway towards the main corridor.

Mina could practially hear them before they approached -- actually, correct that. She heard Stretch, giving Hallow the once-over like he seemingly did to every self-respecting woman with a pulse and legs.

"Yeah, I work out every freakin' day, babe," The pink-skin mutant said to his fairer-sex peer with a wide grin, showing it all off with a slight flex of his muscled left arm, along with a cocky shrug. "'Cuz when you're part a' d'group dat's d'X-Men, sweetcheeks, ya ain't too prepared, y'dig?" A two-fingered point, to his eyes slightly obscured in shade behind that wrestling mask of his.

"Always watchin'. Dat's d'true mark of a freakin' franchise player." He ended, brows lifted cockily, smirking all the way.

Being around Stretch was never boring -- it was like a huge comedy routine.

A comedy of errors?

That was probably the best way to put it.

Roy, who was leading the way of the group, looked back over his shoulder to Stretch with a disbelieving, wry cant to his brow, trying to hide a smirk along his features. Stretch just grinned back and pointed to the gravity manipulator, looking to Hallow once again.

"Hey, dis mack'll tell ya straight up just how often we play b-ball out on d'courts out back at school," The Jersey mutant continued, before looking to Roy. "But unlike Champ here, I don't fuckin' cheat wit' my powers." A pat to his chest. "All me, baby."

"Excuse me?" Roy uttered back, a grin on his face before pointing to himself. "So I'M cheating?"

A rapid nod from the pink-skinned mutant, replying in an instant as if the information was common knowledge.

"Fuck yeah, you cheat! Dere's no fuckin' way you're convincin' me you can do dat freakin' hook shot bullshit widdout any a' your little gravity powers!" Stretch came right back, with Roy only shaking his head and making a low chuckle.

"And I can so tell when you're using yours, Rubber-Boy," he joked back with a mutter, which Stretch gave a grin and a pat on Orbital's back.

"Cheatin' douche," the pink-skinned mutant jokingly uttered back.

That was when the group rounded the corner -- and there was Mina, out from her little scuffle with the Friends of Humanity, as the hallways emptied out into the main lobby.

The general concern of the situation was back on Roy's face, ever the responsible one -- and he headed to Mina, looking to her and checking around.

"So what's left?" He asked in a general sigh -- not out of boredom, but out of exhaustion. This whole situation was a huge stress case.

Mina looked quickly to the group as they came trotting up, enormously glad to see that they seemed to have come out of the situation unharmed. "I think we've done all we can," she replied, jerking her head in the direction of the door they'd entered through. "Come on, we have to get out of here before Havok brings the roof down around our ears."

She turned towards the door but had only made it about three steps before a familiar blue-skinned mutant intercepted their path. Mystique's vivid yellow eyes swept over the team with a bit of a smirk on her lips, a gun in one hand and a suspicious black, metallic sphere in the other. "Leaving so soon?" she queried, her voice a low purr. "And I thought we were having so much fun."

The sight of Mystique drew Orbital's stance immediately at the ready -- his brows lowered faintly, instantly knowing she was up to no good, especially with what she was brandishing.

Stretch, though, was less so overt about the danger -- and peered over Roy's shoulder, looking at Mystique with a wide-eyed look. "Oh, no fuckin' way!" He said, a laugh leaving him as he grinned to Mystique. "Color coordinated, Blue! How 'bout dat? 64-bit color muties representin' in d'hood!"

"Stretch, seriously, now's NOT the time," Roy muttered back to his pal, even nudging his arm at his side, which surprisingly shut Colin up fairly quickly.

Roy's kohl eyes returned to Mystique, keeping cool about it all. "If this is what you do for fun, I'd hate to see your big bashes," he uttered, not making light of it, but there was no sense in escalating things. A slight lift of his chin, to press his confidence in this situation -- though a momentary look to Mina, for reassurance.

As much of a blue-chipper as he was, he was still a rookie in all this.

"Just what is it now?" He said to the blue-skinned femme, look still fairly severe and stalwart. If she was looking for a flinch, she wouldn't find it here.

That smirk never left Mystique's features which was cause enough in itself for concern. Her gaze focused on Stretch briefly, arching a brow at his words. Was that supposed to be funny? Oh, right, of course. "It seems to me the only thing you're 'representing' is the fall of the mutant race. Luckily for you, I'm taking care of that, y'dig, man?" she uttered and the last words rang with a dead-on imitation of Stretch's voice -- not just his accent, either, but his entire tone.

At Roy's question that smirk flipped into a mocking pout. "Tch tch, so rude. Where are your manners, young man? Mina, you really should teach your students better. It reflects poorly on your entire school when they don't show proper respect to their betters."

Flux stepped to the side a bit, putting a few feet of space between herself and the others. "If that's the case, then I'll be giving him an 'A' in that department," she remarked cooly.

Mystique chuckled darkly. "That's assuming you make it back in time for progress reports." And with that she raised the gun and fired in rapid succession, emptying her clip in the direction of the group.

Mina reacted instinctively and held her hands up again as if she was going to catch the bullets but they simply burst into flame before they hit. There were so many of them pouring from that sub-machine gun, though, that she didn't notice when Mystique's thumb moved over the sphere in her hand, pressing the timer on the bomb down. Red lights flashed over the surface of the device and she threw it in a high arc -- right towards the X-men.

The sight of that pressurized timer -- it didn't take a member of Mensa to figure out what that shiny device was, especially the way it was clicking and whirring.

"It's a bomb, take cover!" Roy yelled out -- but, aside from gathering everyone closer to him, there wasn't much he could do in this situation. Tossing the bomb out onto the street would be far too risky, with all the police and civilians there -- and who knows what kind of press they'd receive then.

Stretch looked up at that flashing bomb, and everything came to this point for him.

He lost his first family to violence. Damned if he wasn't going to lose his second.

"Everybody, stay back!" The Jersey boy yelled out, before leaping into the air with a flip, nabbing the spherical explosive in his large hand like a ball and running with it like a linebacker with full yardage to the end zone, blazing out of the doors in full gait.

Roy's eyes widened, watching Colin's pink frame disappear out the doors. "Colin!" He called out, following after him -- but his friend was keeping up a good pace, running as hard as he could.

Pity that his charge across the street in front was thwarted by an oncoming police cruiser.

The car smacked squarely into his side, tossing Stretch a good thirty feet down the road and leaving a nasty dent along the fender -- but the worst part was, the bomb rolled out of his grasp and towards a group of bystanders at the corner of the Friends of Humanity headquarters, looking like the most ominous bowling ball ever.

Stretch groaned in a bit of pain, but his eyes shot open at hearing those screams -- and he looked at the travelling bomb. "Ah, shit," he mumbled to himself, before launching to his feet in a kip-up -- and he ran as fast as those stumpy, muscled legs could take him, throwing his body in a full pounce to grab the bomb.

"Everybody, get d'fuck away!" He yelled as loud as he can to the crowd -- but the swarm of frenzied onlookers once again pushed the bomb out of his grasp.

A roll of the eyes. "Fuckin' HELL!"

A flat dive, on top of the bomb -- and it blew just before it rolled to the building's corner support -- a huge blast, rupturing open the rebar and sending debris flying for a fair distance.

Roy had gotten close enough that the sheer force of the blast dropped him to his back -- and the sound was intense. His ears were ringing, his vision was hazy as it hit him -- but he muttered the first words that came to his mind.

" ... Colin!"

Staggering to his feet, the gravity manipulator made his way to the corner -- but there was nothing. Just a crater, some smoke -- shrapnel of all sizes, and unmistakeable pink-colored rendered chunks and dismembered body parts.

He fell to his knees, mouth agape in awe and shock.

" ... Jesus, Colin," he mumbled, looking around for maybe some hope -- but it was unlikely he'd find it.

Why did he do this?

It was as time slowed for a few seconds as that bomb went sailing over her head and was nabbed by a pink hand. Her eyes went wide as Stretch took off for the door and the gunfire cut off abruptly as Mystique did the same, morphing into the form of a SWAT officer and bolting around the corner, away from the site of the impending explosion.

"Colin, no!" Mina yelled as she took off after him and Roy, legs pumping furiously as she fought to catch up before it was too late. What she hoped to do, she didn't know, but she couldn't watch one of her students die...not like that.

The crowd was yet another problem but there was little she could do despite yelling at them to get down. She watched, heart pumping, as Colin scrambled for the bomb, catching it just as it rolled near the corner of the building...

And then the explosion. Momentarily blinded and deafened from the sheer force of it Mina dropped to her knees and was caught full on by a chunk of concrete and rebar on the left side of her body. Steel tore into the flesh of her arm and the concrete knocked her flat to the ground, pain shooting through her side. She didn't even really feel it though as her eyes opened, searching for some sign of Stretch through the dusty haze and smoke.

Her heart dropped to her stomach as her eyes fell to Roy on his knees just a few feet away and it was then that she noticed the bits and pieces of pink flesh scattered around. "Oh God..." she breathed, painfully pulling herself to her knees, horror keeping the whole of the situation from really sinking in.

It was painful to see -- but just looking at the scene, Roy knew that his friend's sacrifice saved the nearby bystanders from serious injury, some of them picking themselves up from the debris and howling car alarms.

He died a hero. He muffled the explosion with his body ... and saved all those lives.

A lost gaze, back to Mina. "I ... I tried to ..." He muttered, before looking back to that hole in the concrete, lowering his head for a moment.

Anger. Angry at himself, as the small fragments of debris shook and then lifted off the ground, then pounded right back down in unison with Roy's angry fist to the sidewalk, teeth grit in anger. " ... FUCK!" He swore to himself, eyes clenched tight, fighting back tears.

He didn't want to face the prospect of losing a friend.

Looking up back to the carnage, something caught the corner of his kohl eyes -- and it caused his brows to furrow in faint confusion. One of those rendered pink chunks began to quiver -- then shake.

Odd. No one would really be doing that ... could they?

But that dismembered forearm by the pile seemed to wiggle -- then the fingers moved. And, if that wasn't weird enough -- it turned onto its front, and began to pull itself along, through the rubble and to a small area behind some parking lot shrubs.

" ... What?" Roy uttered, more to himself than anyone, completely confused -- and he rose to his feet.

Mina stared for a few more moments at the crater that used to be Colin, her mind simply refusing to believe that what she'd just seen had really happened. But the evidence was as plain as day around her and she fought back a wave of nausea at the site of all those bits and pieces.

Slowly and painfully she pulled herself to her feet, blood dripping down her arm. "Roy...we have to go..." She hated to say it, but they couldn't stay there. They had to get back to the Blackbird. Colin's sacrifice would mean nothing if they didn't make it back.

And then...all around them the chunks of flesh began to quicker and move, inching along the ground towards a bush. Her brows furrowed in disbelief, lips parted in an expression of shock. No...there was no way he could survive something like that, and yet...she still dared to hope.

Roy looked back to Mina, shrugging off her arm at her words -- though he looked to her bleeding arm, letting out a faint breath of reprive.

But his focus was on that moving arm -- and his brows still stayed in that same furrow -- and he walked away from her, through the debris, following that maverick limb.

His short trek would lead him to a spot behind those bushes, where there was the sound of pained grunts and swearing -- and a too familiar tone.

"Aw, fuck me wit' a fuckin' hacksaw, mudda fuckas!" belted out that Jersey tone once they got close enough -- and the smile on Roy's face told the tale.

There sat Colin -- well, most of him. A chunk of his torso and his head, with a huge gash that rendered it in half along the side -- but as they stood there and watched, it was healing up, closing up all the wounds -- and as that arm pulled closer, Stretch took it with his other hand, affixing it to the roughly blown-apart stump, healing over and reattaching, as he wiggled the three fingers for good measure.

"Jesus, Colin ... you're alive!" Roy uttered, amazed by it all, as Stretch looked to him with those crimson-on-black eyes of his.

"No fuckin' shit I'm alive -- you wanna be useful 'n pass me my left leg?" he said, pointing to the limb trying to make its way to the rest of him. "And I think I fuckin' lost my ass. No sense lookin' for it, it's probably powder by now."

The gravity manipulator handed his friend the leg -- and, with it reattached to the lower stump, he was mostly complete, his healing factor filling in all those bits and particles lost in the blast.

With a slightly pained expression, Colin rose to his feet, stretching his arms out and flexing his neck, as all those wounds healed up with nary a scar.

" ... What?" The Jersey mutant uttered to his gawking peers. "Ain't ya never seen a guy get blown d'fuck up before? I swear, for other fuckin' mutants, dat's pretty crass, peeps."

Mina followed along behind Roy though at a much slower pace, her right arm wrapped around her torso. When she came around the bush and spotted Colin sitting there, missing a few parts but definitely alive, she let out a sigh of relief and sent up a silent prayer of thanks.

She grinned as he pulled himself to his feet. "Colin, I didn't think it was possible for me to ever be glad to hear your profanity, but I have to say I couldn't be happier right now to hear those words coming out of your mouth." Her gaze sobered slightly. "That was one of the most courageously stupid things I've ever seen in my life. I can't decide whether to hit you or hug you."

It was then that she seemed to remember they had somewhere to be, and motioned for them to follow. "Come on, let's get back to the jet. I think I need to sit down," she added with a bit of a laugh.

Turning away she headed back to the Blackbird, noting that Vibe had indeed escaped her lead dome, but at least there was no sign of him lingering around. Striding up the ramp to the jet she cast a glance around before looking to Jean. "What's the ETA on the others?" she asked and moved to sit in the co-pilot's seat beside her.
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Mystique
Unregistered

Mystique didn’t bother to stick around and see what they made of her parting gift; it was only a prelude to the main event, at any rate. Down in the bowels of the structure, wired to the boilers and back-up generators, was the true finale to this battle, one Mystique was sure that the town of Stafford would not soon forget.

As she jogged down the street in full SWAT regalia she heard the deafening boom that signaled the detonation of the bomb she had chucked at the X-men and smirked slightly to herself, but didn’t bother to turn around.

Two blocks away she finally slowed and slipped into a side-alley, returning to her true form as she pulled a detonator from her back pocket. Briefly she wondered if any of the X-men were still in the building and were about to get caught in the blast, but it didn’t really matter either way. If they weren’t, lucky them. If they were, it was a bonus on her part.

And without another pause, without another thought as to who else was going to die that day, she pressed the button.

The explosion ripped through the FOH headquarters, shattering foundations and leveling walls with the sheer force of the blast. The roof exploded upwards and sent bits of flaming debris showering down over the onlookers that milled on the sidewalks. Flames engulfed the structure, melting support beams and sending floors falling in on themselves.

Two blocks away, Mystique felt the rumble and tucked the detonator back in her pocket as she continued on her way to the rendezvous point.

"Hate tae be the bearer o' bad news, lass," Nox uttered through the radio to Mystique, "But we're down one team member. Jumbo Eddie Munster got away from us in the fight ... an' if I think what happened tae him really did happen tae him, we're nae gettin' him back anytime soon."

Nox’s message reached her just as she was heading up the loading ramp into the Chinook and she dropped her weapons in a cargo bin before heading up to the cockpit. “Well that is unfortunate,” she remarked blandly, as if she didn’t care either way. “But we must always be prepared for setbacks.”

She cast a glance back into the hold. “And how is our guest? Comfortable, I hope,” she murmured as she did a quick head count. Noxious, Jara, Longshot, Vibe, Havok, Fate…only the twins were missing and she let out a brief sigh of irritation. Now that she thought of it she realized neither had radioed in since the start of the attack. Whether they were injured or captured, Mystique didn’t know, and she didn’t particularly care to find out.

“Everyone strap in,” she said after a moment, settling that terribly unflattering helmet over her hair. “The twins can catch up.” Reaching above her head she flipped a series of switches and the rotors whirred to life with a roar of sound. Expertly she guided the Chinook into the air and made a wide, sweeping pass over the town of Stafford. Smoke billowed from the FOH headquarters and she gave a nod of satisfaction. Job well done.

And with that she piloted the chopper out of Stafford airspace, and back to the Brotherhood base.



((Exit Brotherhood))
((Note: For the sake of moving things ahead, it is understood that Fate made it back to the chopper. Excellent job, everyone!))
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