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The Town; The Thunderbolts
Topic Started: Sep 28 2009, 10:59 PM (1,348 Views)
Black Tom
Unregistered

Carpenter hoped to take his teammates by surprise. Surprisingly, the anger that had swept over him allowed him enough clarity and judgment to realize that possibly by blathering along he might be able to distract them. He struck suddenly with his assault rifle. The bullets exploded out of the muzzle in a flurry of hot lead. The small copper jacketed balls of lead flew through the air to strafe their intended targets, or so Carpenter hoped. Megaton was hit. He was wearing armor, hell, they all were wearing armor. The damage done there was minimal at best.

Megaton retaliated by releasing a stream of energy from his palm. The heat roiled from the blast, causing the background to dance and shimmer in the heat waves cast off. The pavement underneath the stream melted into a tarlike consistency. A car was struck by Megaton’s attack. The paint boiled and bubbled away while the sheet metal began to melt and the upholstery caught flame. The automobile was reduced to some kind of ancient pagan burial pyre.

The vivacious Agent Marvel had taken about all she could take with the Irishman’s jabber. She had half turned when he unleashed his barrage of bullets upon the Thunderbolts team. She too, had been adorned with armor, so Thomas’ furious attack that had intended to kill most likely only caused minimal injury. He had been blinded by his sudden rage and lashed out without a reasonable plan. In a flash, her eye shifted to red. An aura of pure energy enveloped the woman. She was enraged on some primordial level. She was a telepath and a telekinetic. Thomas was lucky that she didn’t just shatter his mind into a million little pieces and leave him a drooling mess on the pavement to be swallowed up by the molten asphalt created by Megaton.

Marvel’s great powers lashed out. A state police cruiser was hurled up by the force of her will. It careened right for the Irishman. Nearly a ton of metal hurtled right toward him, threatening to crush him beneath the force generated by the angry telekine. Carpenter twisted around on his heels to try and get away. A portion of Carpenter’s dose of bullets had also struck Creed and the big feral turned his weapon against the Mick. His shots rang out, striking the assault rifle. It skidded across the pavement, most likely useless. Thomas though, wasn’t completely empty handed.

Before he could get off another shot or even evade the hurtling car, Patch flew out of nowhere, bounding off the roof of another car. He tackled the Irishman just as the flying automobile careened past them.

Carpenter was slightly dazed from his brush with Patch. The smaller feral was up and away before Thomas could get to feet or find his bearing. He’s a fuckin’ good one, the Irishman thought. Painfully, he pushed himself up from the pavement and ran to take refuge behind an over turned truck. He wasn’t completely useless though. He had sold his soul to SHIELD for just such an occasion. Thomas sneered and peered from behind the truck. He reached around with both of his gnarled and woody hands pressed together. He released his own beam of pure force at his teammates. The Mick’s powers were to channel concussive blasts through wooden implements. After a surgery or two provided by SHIELD’s health care plan, he would never be without a wooden device. His hands and forearms had been grafted with the substance.

From his station, Carpenter couldn’t fully see what was happening to the rest of the team. He heard their shouting, thinking it was at him or each other. He couldn’t see the vines that attacked the ferals or Agent Marvel. He didn’t see the wooden creatures arrive to devour them without a trace. “You could at least make it a challenge!” He yelled out and then added in a boast. “I’m not even sure how many I killed at the Sistine Chapel. And that was an off day for me!”
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Rawson
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Nuclear / Atomic Energy Manipulation
Allister wasn't sure what was more upsetting to him as he took advantage of the time he had bought himself to recover. The fact that after years of relatively obedient service to Uncle Sam he was the one being constantly monitored while this mick with an automatic was given both a gun and a disturbingly lax monitoring system. Or the fact that a good chunk of his flesh had been splattered on the pavement behind him. Upon quick further examination of the wounds, he'd come down squarely on the side of the flesh wounds. Carpenter was going to roast. As long as Megaton didn't bleed to death before hand.

He groped around for a can of whatever all purpose medical spray they were provisioned while he watched the two extra holes in his body leak out. The nuclear mutant had no intention of dying, especially not by getting shot by some no name turncoat. As the red pool spread, his hand made contact with the metallic cylinder in question. The spray stung, but the bleeding slowed and so he was out of mortal danger for the time being. Except for Carpenter. Not to mention whatever it was that had overran the town in the first place. Out of the frying pan....

The sound of something large crashing into something that didn't move pulled him back into the melee ragging around him. He had turned back in just in time to see a car tumble to the ground, with only a few feet away the Irishman on the ground below Patch. Sloppy work on Marvel's part, not going for a mind shutdown. Patch's too, as Allister watched him bug out. Oh well, to Megaton it looked like he had been given another free shot at that wooden creep.

On his feet and moving towards the target, Allister did a quick check on the rest of his team. He only had visuals on Agent Marvel, who was picking herself up off the ground and looking none the worse for wear, except for a murderous look on her face. Megaton was glad he was on her good side. Or at least he thought he was. He was about ready to steal her kill when a concussive field hit him dead center, one again knocking him to his feet. God damn it.

He got up quicker this time, ignoring the blood seeping from his arm, and speed to the nearby cover of a mailbox. He wasn't sure who had hit him, Carpenter or Marvel giving him the not so subtle message to but out, but he wasn't waiting around to get sucker punched again. He tried to get sights on Marvel, but she was no where to been seen. Carpenter's cover still looked in one piece, so she hadn't ripped him apart and moved on. So where was she? Where was anyone but the guy trying to kill him?

Regardless of the status of his teammates, Megaton had a psychotic former terrorist to contend with. They could wait. Right now this carpenter fellow was the clear and present danger, yelling something about the Sistine Chapel. Well if he thought any god could save him from an acute case of radiation poisoning he was in for a world of disappointment. Allister let loose another stream of nuclear fury at the car the gunman was behind. This time, with feeling.

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Sabretooth
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Adamantium Skeleton, Claws / Feral traits, Regeneration
"Jimmy!" Creed roared as his longtime friend was snagged and pulled away. This was going downhill fast. Not only the mind control tricks, but now killer vines or whatever were stealing them all away.

He was mad now. Whatever they were dealing with here was going to get introduced to Victor Creed's bad side. Not too many people survived Victor Creed's bad side. He heard the slithering of vines sneaking up on him and leaped up into the air, turning around and pumping four precise shots, one into each vine. They exploded at the point of impact, showering the immediate area in green sludge and shredded plant debris.

But for each vine he disabled, two more took its place. He fought valiantly, firing shots at the vines until he ran out of bullets. Once that happened, he flung the guns at the vines and took to fighting them with his bare hands.

For a while it was working. A vine approached and he would slash at it with his claws, rendering it shredded and useless, leaking sap and water on the ground. But eventually, he was overwhelmed. It was inevitable, really. He hung suspended amidst the shredded remains of vines, wrists and ankles being tugged apart from his center. These things were trying to quarter him.

Those vines would find that a nigh impossible task, however. Not only was his physical strength making it very difficult to pull his limbs off, his muscles bulging with the effort to snap the vines as if they were mere ropes, but his healing abilities were repairing the damage the vines were dealing rapidly. Add to that an unbreakable skeleton, and you had one person who was very difficult to pull apart.
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Logan
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The darkness overwhelmed him. He felt very cold, despite the burning sensation that was tingling all over his body. He attempted to move, but the oversized plant seemed to have him encapsulated like a pea within a pod. There was very little room to move. James' thoughts suddenly came back to him as the realization set in that he was being digested. The vines had pulled him off the roof, he had taken a lick as he hit the ground, and then he was dragged into the treeline and inserted into some kind of mouth. Uh uh. Not happening.

SNIKT!!!

Patch's adamantium claws shot out of his forearms and between each knuckle, extending into the "flesh" of the giant plant he was within. Immediately he felt the thing quiver from the sudden damage, but the basic instinct of the plant was to continue feeding. Slowly, and with much exertion, James curled both fists upwards towards his face, feeling his claws tear their way through a strange flesh which felt like a thick mucus and many layers of paper. Getting his claws up to his face, he pushed them both outwards into the flesh of the plant and stabbed through.

From the outside, the tips of six adamantium claws could be seen piercing through the green surface of the massive plant. It appeared to be like a giant and mutated "venus fly trap" plant. However, it didn't seem designed to contain a meal such as Patch. The tips of the claws moved downwards from where they appeared, tearing through the outter shell of the plant like butter, until it reached it's base. The claws disappeared for a moment, before suddenly reappearing in the middle of the wounds and opening. From the inside, James fell out, gasping for air as the giant plant collapsed behind him.

Still on all fours, the same vines that had taken him before began to work their way towards him, almost as if they did not expect to see him return. This time, however, James was ready for them. He got to his feet quickly and moved towards the buildings of the town, quickly dispatching the vines as they approached. They proved to be no match for his razor sharp claws, especially now that he was expecting them. They had caught him off guard before... but it would not happen again.

As he made his way towards the buildings of the town, he came upon Victor Creed hanging upside down, struggling with the vines as he had been before. Apparently, the vines had taken him off guard as well. Patch jumped into the air and put his claws through the vines that were holding Sabretooth's arms with precision, cutting the "ropes" without touching Creed's skin. Knowing that the massive man could make his way down, James battled back more approaching vines as he waited for Sabretooth to regain his composure. "We need to get back into town, Vic. I think it might be a biological weapon of some kind... this fuckin' pollen is just too convenient. We gotta take down whatever or who ever is causing this, but we can't let our team destroy themselves," James said, glancing to Victor as the vines finally seemed to slow their attack. "I'm going to call in command and request a quick drop of some M90 respirators. We'll have to figure out some way to take them down and get the masks on them without killin' them. We should have been more careful."

James took a few steps away from Victor and reached to his communicator. "Patch to Eagle. Request a drop of three M90 respirators on our location ASAP. Suspected biological threat, possibly compromising our team. How do you copy?" he said into the communicator.

"Roger, agent. Drop on your current location in five to ten," the voice said back.

"Alright, we got about five or ten minutes to come up with a way to take them down without getting obliterated," James said, squatting down. He positioned himself so that he could see behind Creed and Creed could see behind him. That way, they wouldn't have to keep glancing back. "But we need to act fast."
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Jean
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Telepathy, Telekinesis
Ropey vines coiled around her throat and squeezed, dragging Agent Marvel backward and off the ground. Her fingers clawed at the vines, dimly aware of the tips feeling on fire and going numb but didn’t take much notice of it then. Along the vines, hundreds of poison tip nettles dug into her neck and her clawing, red-tipped fingers. In the slow motion of the attack, Marvel’s eyes rolled up to look at her attacker.

Ivy, its leaves and vines the color the rich dark red of blood, spread between the two buildings. Like a spider’s web, she thought but the image was replaced by a memory of skin diving in coastal waters, through a waving field of kelp and seaweed. It had been easy to think that the waving green leaves had been trying to grab her then, as she glided through the forest of them, but these really were.

The vines were quick, grabbing and holding, constricting to squeeze the breath out of her, or perhaps snap her neck, if the thing was capable of such thoughts. Darkness clouded her vision, starting at the edges and moving in. Soon, her numbed hands and kicking legs felt too heavy to struggle anymore. Damn her team, where the Hell where they? Lazy fucking self-absorbed bastards, each one. She imagined them letting her die on purpose. It was a conclusion she’d come to many times; for many of them, she was their warden, they’d dance on her grave if they had the chance… Creed wouldn’t care one way or the other, and Patch… he’d already lived a half-dozen lifetimes so far, and with her mind filled with the toxic pollen and vine poison, it was all too easy to believe that she’d be in his rearview mirror soon anyway. There was one lesson she’d learned growing up in SHIELD – don’t get attached. She should’ve followed it.

Instead of wallowing in self-pity though, Marvel’s teeth clenched and her eyes burned with renewed anger. There was no way she was going out like this; there was a reason she was named Marvel.

Closing her eyes and delving for every scrape of concentration she could manage, orange and red tinted energy flared at her throat like a collar and expanded. Vines snapped and oozed red as their grip was loosened, then broken. Marvel gasped, gulping in the delicious air that burned her throat but nevertheless felt wonderful.

Feeling her struggling again, the vines tightened their grip. Marvel ripped at the vines with her mind but her distracted thoughts couldn’t grab them all; as soon as she broke the ones holding her, others would slither in and take back the slack she’d gained.

“You will let me the fuck go,” she growled at it through gritted teeth as she writhed. On the street, Megaton was firing his powers at Carpenter and between them, the street bubbled and caught fire, filling the air with black smoke and the vile smell the burning tires.

Marvel caught the smell and reached out with her mind, scooping up the flaming tar and flung it at the Blood Ivy. The tar stuck, burning through the vines and, if the plant had any sense of feeling, it probably hurt like a bitch. The vines holding Marvel burned away and the plant writhed, she guessed it was trying to get away. That was just too damn bad… Fuelled by anger, fiery energy encircled Marvel; it coiled around her tighter and tighter, growing and burning like a flicking orange and red sun, until she released it.

It was as though a bomb had exploded, with Marvel at ground zero. The wave force shredded the Blood Ivy and tore apart the buildings, turning everything into flying shrapnel. Hovering in mid-air with bits of boards and nails bouncing off her protective shield of thoughts, Marvel was the eye of a hurricane. She was a vision in crimson – splattered in blood from her still oozing bullet wounds, with Blood Ivy hung from her neck like Jacob Marley’s ghostly Christmas chains and wafting in the breeze. And in her veins, the plant’s poison slowly continued, working its way up her legs and arms.

She looked down and saw them, Carpenter and Megaton, part of the team that wanted her dead. Somewhere in her mind, she knew that wasn’t true, but that little whisper was overrun by primal fury.

“Backstabbing… ungrateful bastards,” she screamed at them. “You’ll wish I’d let you rot in the sinking holes where I found you!” The loss the blood and the poison was started to leech away her concentration, she looked pale, but still had enough energy to fight and lashed out, sending a bone-cracking wave of force arcing out toward them.
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Avery
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Botanical Manipulation and Biology
Ah the sounds of chaos and devastation sang loud in the near empty town once more. Normally she liked the peace and quiet, but the thought of the Thunderbolts ripping each other apart of being eaten by her little dears was a pleasant one. It was interesting to see how each one chose to do something different with their prey though they all were designed with the same abilities. Sitting on the windows ledge as she peered out, she found herself smiling as she zipped up her new pair of knee high leather boots. She wasn’t the most fashionable female in the world, but her clothing was chosen for its comfort, durability, maneuverability and in the colder months, warmth. Though it would be nice to get her hands on a uniform like Crimson Locks wore; they were close enough to the same size. Perhaps if she acted quickly she could stop her little dear before it chewed her up and damaged the clothing. It could eat her after the ruckus had died away and she had the uniform. Actually, it would make a nice little trophy for a job well done.

Surely they knew who was behind this by now, the monstrous plants more than an obvious clue, thats if their rage ridden minds held enough clarity to piece that much together. They knew her well, actually, having a few run-ins with her where she just barely escaped as they showed up or moments before. Regardless, she was on file for perhaps four years now. They knew her physical stats, they knew about her powers, how many places she had destroyed in her mission and even her body count. She had become something of a celebrity over the years or at least rather notorious. She very much liked the thought of that. She would be recognized and she would be feared. How else would they ever learn? Why it had to be forced into their tiny, ignorant, un-evolved skulls, that’s how. Her road was tiresome but in the end it would be worth it.

Sadly, she realized as she cursed under her breath, she wasn’t sure she was as close to the end as she would have liked. All three of her feasting creations were slaughtered in the act of trying to dine on their prey. At least one thing was learnt today; the Mongrels could not be ripped apart no more than their bones be broken. She began to wonder if there was a way to kill them at all. Perhaps drowning…The hairy things needed to breathe after all. If her hand was forced, as it usually was, she would try that. Her shoulders slumped a little as the unearthly screams of the wounded beasts cut shrilly though the air. She knew that it would take more than three to take down the group even if their minds were clouded. For the greaeter good, she remind herself upin their deaths. It was unfortunate, however she had a good twenty more unseen throughout the town that would make their presence known now. There was no point in holding them back anymore, no point in letting them all off easy…everyone was fair game now.

She pressed herself against the glass, straightening up to get a better angle as she strained to see what was going on in the streets. Her view was not the best, but even from as far away as she was, she could not miss the bright beam of energy as New Guy launched his attack or the nuclear stream that Radioactive Man had let out. Oh how she would have liked to hear what they were yelling. Her plant networking was rather helpful for keeping a distance and her presence unknown, however it wasn’t the best modes of getting information. The flora spoke to her yes, but they relayed impressions of what happened around them, not conversations. It was why she was not in a panic as her chances of extinguishing the Thunderbolts became poor and poorer. She had no way of knowing that Little Mongrel had suspected that the pollen was the trigger to all the madness or that soon breathing apparatuses would be delivered to squelch her plans. Still not all was at a lost yet. There was the lovely Crimson Locks still in her corner, as much as she wish her neck would snapped moments ago, she was her wild card. The Mongrels might be able to slash through any plant she threw at them, but she doubted that they were very much of an opposition for their mighty leader. Her only wish was that she had a better view.
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Black Tom
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The heat growing around Thomas was growing. There was no relenting in Megaton’s attack. The streets began to melt and soon they would boil. His radioactive attacks were making short work of it. It wouldn’t be too long before Carpenter would be cut off from any sort of retreat because he’d be swallowed up like some doddering mammoth in a tar pit or he was reduced to cinders. In the back of his mind, he was glad that Marvel was too angry or distracted to think clearly in order to turn his brain into Swiss cheese.

Any attack from the flame haired woman seemed to cease for a moment. There were no cars flying through the air. There were no bodies suspended, as if by strings, dancing around like puppets. It was a short reprieve from her assaults and Thomas looked around to take advantage of the short time on his hands. He could feel the heat building up on the other side of the car he was hiding behind. Near him was a manhole cover. He slid his curled fingers into the lid and yanked it free to reveal the dark abyss below. The Irishman stole another peak to ascertain the location of Megaton and then leapt into the hole.

It was much cooler in the sewer. The layers of concrete and pipe insulated the tunnel from the molten asphalt and the heat above. It wouldn’t last forever, eventually the heat would work its way down. The sewer was dark and Thomas quickly pulled a glow wand from one of the many pouches that adorned his vest. He snapped it in the middle to activate it and shook it wildly. A faint, almost toxic glow, illuminated the path before his feet. Thomas let out a grunt of surprise as the light shone upon a hideous beast right in front of his face.

The creature had a semi-humanoid shape. There were arms and legs but the body was slouched over, similar to the posture of a gorilla or a chimp. The body was lean and the limbs were twisted. There was no head to speak of whatsoever. Instead of a head, there was a giant pod with a seam running through the middle. The pod yawned open like some caricature of a bivalve shell. Within the jaws were rows of spines and thorns, deadly sharp. There were bits of gore clinging to these thorns and plantlike equivalent to teeth. In the glow of the wand, Tom couldn’t tell the color but he was pretty sure they were red.

The beast sprang for him with its jaws wide open. Thomas released a blast from his fist hitting the monster right in the middle of its gapping jaw. The plant creature was split in half, spraying its chlorophyll laden fluids across the sewer walls. The pieces of the plant-thing fell with wet slaps against the sewer bottom. There was then a hiss and the sounds of rope being dragged across rough concrete. Tom spun to find angry vines lacing toward him in the faint light of the glow wand.

He was firing blast after blast at the vines, trying to wipe them out when the ground was rocked by an earth quake. With a low rumble the sewer shook, and part of the ceiling collapsed inward, weakened by their fighting on the surface. The vines were covered by the rubble and Thomas hurriedly climbed back to the street level before the dust cleared. He didn’t want to be trapped in the sewer with those plant creatures.

He emerged from the sewer off to the side of Megaton. Above ground, was just as much a mess as the sewer. Thomas spun around to see Marvel floating toward them wreathed in her angry aura. She was royally pissed off. Megaton was still dangerous but Agent Marvel seemed to be the bigger threat. Carpenter had all but forgotten the plant monster in the sewer, blinded by rage and his eminent demise at the mind of Marvel. His common sense all but destroyed by the rage inducing pollen, Thomas put his hands together and released a blast with all his might. “For the cause!” he yelled.
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Sabretooth
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Adamantium Skeleton, Claws / Feral traits, Regeneration
"Hrmph," Creed grunted. He felt like he could have dealt with it, but it was all just as well. He brushed bits of plant detritus off of his shoulders and assessed the situation. "Thanks fer the save."

A vine came snaking towards them, and Creed lifted up one boot and stomped it down, crushing it so thoroughly that it snapped in half.
"This whole thing fits the profile," he said, a forced calm coming over him. "Seems Simmons's report of her death was either a flat out lie or a damn stupid mistake on his part."

Sabretooth growled as he fought off a few more vines, tearing at them with his claws as if they were little more than tissue paper.

The rest of the team was having a hell of a time, and surely they'd be none too pleased to find out their strings were being pulled, but it had to be done.

"Cover me, I'm gonna go redirect the Bosslady," Creed said to his comrade as he glanced over to Jean, who was clearly the most potent of all of them.

He took off at a sprint, vaulting over a creeping vine and ducking low to slash at another before he finally made it to Grey.

"'Fore ya clobber me, I want ya to listen good!" he spoke loudly so she'd hear him over her temper tantrum. "This whole thing, it's Avery Doyle! So, you gotta ask yourself, you wanna waste yer own damn team, go through the trouble of recruitin' a new batch, or do you wanna make Doyle pay fer playin' you like a fiddle from hell? I know you can find her, Red! Her range ain't that wide, so she's close!"

His lips curled up into a wry smirk as he looked his commanding officer right in the eye. "I think you know how ya wanna handle this."
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Rawson
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Nuclear / Atomic Energy Manipulation
This whole situation was starting to get Allister angry. For most people who had been forced against their will to spend the prime years of their life in various subterranean government facilities anger would probably be a regular state of being. For the first few years it certainly was with Megaton. Most of them time he was either hooked up to some machine being drain dry of energy or doped up in between transfers, but the few brief moments he had of mental clarity were filled with only the most sadistic of thoughts. In only a few months he had abandoned all thoughts of escape and turned his mind toward revenge. Occasionally lucky breaks of carnage would get him through the tough times and give him hope for an apocalyptic future, but his brief escapes became fewer and far between. Eventually he just stopped being mad.

Call it plateauing or accepting the reality of the situation, but eventually a certain zen level of acceptance and indifference had set in. It made things easier for him not just psychologically, but in his living conditions too. In a year or so he was barely even subjected to the odd drug induced coma that had previously been routine. His condition continued to improve from there. Audible communication, sheets, a pencil. The perks kept adding up. The sense of being a trained dog rewarded for good behavior wasn't lost on Megaton, but he wasn't complaining. He had a pillow now.

All of that supposed zen tranquility was gone now though. He wasn't sure which of the many, many reasons he had to be angry had finally broken him, but that wasn't his primary concern at the moment. No, all he could think about was finding Carpenter and roasting him nice and slowly, just to the point where he would start to bubble. And when he was done with the new fish? Well he would only be the first course in a several dish buffet of righteous vengeance. But first, the Irishman.

It was hard to distinguish what anything was amongst the burning debris of his last attack but this wasn't exactly Megaton's first rodeo. He was practically an old hand at picking out human remains amongst radioactive explosions. But that didn't mean he was exceptional at it. He peered through the smoke for a few seconds, but it was inconclusive. He'd have to assume Carpenter had gone up in flames. No time to investigate more deeply. He had a red head to melt.

But not before she tossed him around like a rag doll with one of those telekinetic blasts of hers. He and the surrounding asphalt were pummeled with a wave of kinetic energy, tossing him into the air amongst flying shrapnel. He fell all by himself though. Then everything went out of focus for a few seconds, and when he got his sight back there were even more targets in firing range. With his good arm, he cut a wide swatch of energy in the direction of Creed and Marvel. They weren't taking him without a fight.
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Jean
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Telepathy, Telekinesis
Yes, she thought, she did know how to handle this; her mind was clouded with plant toxin and blood loss from Carpenter’s, but yeah, the answer was easy and screamed in her mind- KILL THEM ALL!

She stared at Creed with hatred and murder in her heart, glaring at his feral smirk. His cocky know-it-all grin was suddenly the source of all her pain, all her disappointments, everything that had ever gone wrong in her life. “You’re old, Creed,” she spat. “You’re the Past, you and Jimmy. Has-beens!” Fiery energy manifested around Agent Marvel and lunged at Creed, a flood of telekinetic force with the hurricane of debris that had been swirling around her trailing in its wake; everything was sent flying at Creed. No matter what she sent at him though, the crushing blows would hurt but not kill him, even if he didn’t bother to dodge the flying bits of build and refrigerators. But it didn’t matter how much pain and damage he could take, Creed couldn’t match her telekinetic strength - when she finally caught him, he’d be a dead man.

Avery’s method of attack had been perfect against, almost tailor-made; all she had was her mind, remaining focused was life or death for her. Without focus and thought, her powers were crippled… and she was vulnerable. Too focused on Creed, she missed the flank attack by Carpenter; the blast sent Marvel flying backward and into one of the few walls still standing, with a sickening crack, spraying blood from her nose and mouth. Megaton’s burning attack cut through where she’d been a moment ago, still close enough to feel the blistering heat.

The world seemed to slow as Marvel fell, tumbling to the concrete by the wall in a boneless heap. Bubbles of blood formed on her lips as her breathing became more and more shallow and her vision darkened into death.

Was this what death felt like?
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Logan
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"Vic! Wait..." Patch began, but it was a little too late. Was he the only one thinking straight at this point? A person couldn't step out in front of Jean when she was being influenced like this and expect to survive. He silently cursed as he saw Creed move out into the street in front of Jean. What did Victor expect him to cover him with? He had no firearm. Hell, he usually didn't need them. However, he had to act. Moving out of the treeline and into the back alleys of the small town, he moved quickly so that he could come at Jean from behind. He would hate to do it - but he had to put her down.

It took only a few moments before Patch peeked around the corner of a building behind Jean. Inwardly, he winced. He saw it coming. The massive blast from Carpenter seemed to come out of nowhere and hit Jean full on, sending her flying past him and into a wall that was only about ten feet away. The sound of her hitting the wall was a hideous sound and Patch knew instantly that she was dead.

His head began to swim suddenly and a low ringing came to his ears as he pressed his back to the wall, looking towards Jean's body beneath the rubble. He could hear the fighting continue behind him. Patch walked into the open and approached Jean, taking a knee next to her. He reached out and took her hand, not caring if she used her last bit of life to destroy him. The bloody froth came from her lips as she seemed to breath out the last of her life and the light faded from her eyes. James let her hand go and then reached out with two fingers, closing her eyes. Then the man stood.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-NIKT!

Six adamantium claws ejected from the housings in his forearms, making a final clanking sound at they reached their full extension. Patch still looked down to Jean's body as his breath rate began to increase and his heart pulsated faster than any human being's should be capable. A low rumble began deep in his chest and grew louder as he turned to face the combatants that were in the town. One could shoot nuclear energy? That was nice. One could shoot energy blasts? How cute. His friend could match him? We'll see.

Patch took a step towards them all and suddenly roared with all of his feral might, causing a foamy spittle to fly from his mouth in the process. His eyes almost seemed to glow with red as he suddenly moved into the alley that he had came out of, effectively disappearing from the main street. Carpenter had made a big mistake. Not only had he taken down Jean... he just killed the woman that James was in love with. His furry would not be quenched until he tasted blood, and frankly, it didn't matter who's it was.

After merely three seconds from Patch's disappearance into the alley, he suddenly made his reappearance. He launched himself from the roof of the building closest to Carpenter claw first with full intention of taking the man's head off. There was no concern in him for "knocking them out" or "taking them down." He was filled with rage. Unfortunately for everyone, it wasn't the kind brought on by Avery. It was blood rage.
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Sabretooth
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Adamantium Skeleton, Claws / Feral traits, Regeneration
"Damn it, Red..." Creed immediately went into motion, dodging what he could and batting away what he couldn't, but he was getting battered nonetheless. He knew it was going to go down like that, but he knew he could take it.

He couldn't have predicted, however, that Cassidy would murder her. He stood hunched over, his right shoulder dislocated, and many of his internal organs busted up. This was it. James was gonna kill the other two, and the team was over. So much for this phase.

He grabbed his shoulder with his good arm and shoved it back into place, wincing slightly in pain.

The mission now lay in his hands and his hands alone. Comm was busted, so he couldn't call base. Clearly, Jean was too weak to fight off the green bitch's mojo, and he glanced down at the woman's corpse with little feeling at all. Sure, Logan loved her, but Victor was never that stupid. Love was for the weak. Better to just take what you want from a woman and leave it at that.

And speaking of taking what he wanted, he was going to go find Avery Doyle and take what he wanted from her - her head. Nothing she could do would stop him from slaughtering her now. Not after this humiliation.

So as Logan took to killing the rest of the useless Thunderbolts, Sabretooth picked up a piece of plant detritus and sniffed at it, wiping some blood off of his face. They all came from a source, and now that he had a scent, he'd find it.

He calmly and leisurely began making his way toward's the warehouse Avery was hiding in, allowing his wounds the time to knit themselves together while he did it.
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If ya want blood - you got it.
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Rawson
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Nuclear / Atomic Energy Manipulation
Somewhere, in some remote undisclosed location, a cadre of high clearance pencil pushers where gathered around a dozen or so computer monitors. In theory, their job was to monitor Thunderbolt mission progress to ensure the safety and security of the citizens of the United States. In practice it boiled down to them recording how quickly the Thunderbolts killed who they were meant to and how much damage they caused that couldn't be hand waved with some flimsy official excuse. Occasionally however, the mutants would do something to kick the life back into mission command. Something like the whole teaming turning on each other in a bizarre series of events.

They pushed buttons and made calls like mad men as the mission collapsed around them like a house of cards. Only the loudest screamers could be heard among the din of panicked men and woman with their careers on the line, but no matter how loudly any of them yelled the situation in front of them was only getting more out of control. Funny that all that pandemonium would be quieted by a little electronic hum, a high continuous drone with dire implications for their livelihoods.

For a few seconds everyone shut up as they heard the noise and realized what it meant. Then, chaos. Everyone went to a different task, trying to figure out someway to salvage the mission. Such as the bald man who was monitoring Megaton for the day, who with just one turn of dial switched off all but the most demanding of failsafes keeping the nuclear mutant in check. A desperate maneuver, but one he was counting on to pay off.

The rush was noticeable for Allister. He could literally feel the nuclear energy as it spread from the confines of his monitoring vest into his extremities and for the first few seconds it was intoxicating to the mutant. He couldn't care less about what had happened to Marvel, quite literally. The pulsing numbness coupled with throbbing heat coursing through his arms was all his head could handle. He hadn't had that much power at his finger tips in a very long time. Too long he decided, as he turned his attention back to his 'team mates'.

At first it seemed to the slightly power drunk man that there was nothing left of his superior, her body incinerated and cast to the winds. But then he saw her, or what was left of her. He didn't feel angry any more, not since that flush of power had hit his system. At least not in the same way as before. As long as Jean was down he didn't see how it would benefit him to finisher her. He didn't much care about any one else on his team though, all of whom he could justify snuffing out. For the sake of the mission of course. Luckily one of them was roaring right in his sights.

He struck like a viper, all fluid motion as he let loose a controlled wave of searing energy at where the feral mutant. Patch was gone by the time Megaton released however, and the only thing destroyed was most of the wall Marvel was clumped up against. That and the several buildings behind it. But Rawson was a patient man, and sure enough Patch returned in what must have been record time. Too late Megaton took out the rooftop from which the Feral leaped, but luckily the attack wasn't for him. It was for the much weaker mutant off to his side whom he hadn't noticed in his stupor. The mutant who could have gotten a lucky kill shot on Allister do to his own carelessness. Oh well. Crying, spilled milk. He'd just get to kill them both at the same time now.

With a quick pivot he was facing the mutants, and a second later streams of nuclear energy were flying towards them. More energy than he'd given off in a long while. It wasn't a question of whether he could hit Patch. He was confident he could. The problem was if he had enough energy to melt away all his flesh and leave a steaming metal corpse? As the energy poured from his fingertips, he had to assume yes. Yes he could.
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Black Tom
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Thomas had paid no attention to the appearance of Creed. The Irishman was more focused on the woman that was trying to kill him. He was trying to kill Agent Marvel in return. Thomas wasn’t going to go down without a fight. He had almost forgotten all about the creeping vines in the sewer and the snapping plant beast that tried to eat him. Just because he wasn’t paying attention to Creed didn’t mean that Thomas didn’t appreciate the distraction he provided. The feral had yelled something to the Irishman’s handler. Her rage and energy was focused on Creed and that would give Carpenter the chance he needed.

His energy blast blazed through the air. Marvel had began to hurl debris at Creed. She was probably even trying to crush him within the might of her powers, based on sheer will power. Whatever she was doing to him wasn’t happening to Carpenter. That was the perfect opportunity. That was Carpenter’s Irish Luck. His blast shot out and struck Marvel while she was distracted. She fell to the ground and it didn’t seem like a happy landing.

A slow grin spread across Tom’s face. One down, four to go. He’d kill the rest of them and then maybe he’d get out of this mess. Maybe hook back up with the mutant front instead of being the government lap dog. Tom turned his attention to look around to Megaton. He was another heavy hitter and needed to be taken out quickly. Patch and Creed were off somewhere else and he’d get to them next. Though it would seem that one of them was going to get to the Irishman sooner than he expected.

Out of the corner of his eye, Carpenter saw Patch rushing toward him. He had a look of fury plastered across his face and his claws were extended ready for the kill. Thomas fired off a couple of blasts but the feral dodged them easily. Thomas fired again and ran in a half-turned fashion keeping his eyes trained on the berserker feral. Tom was able to catch sight of Megaton firing a blast that destroyed several buildings in it’s path. The kid had stopped playing games apparently.

Tom wasn’t able to see much else because with his eyes focused on Patch, he tumbled down the debris embankment into the sewers. He came to land amidst the tangled mesh of vines that had spread. He could feel them creeping over his body, ready to pull him limb from limb. Gazing upward he was able to see SHIELD agents descending from the sky. Creed had radioed in for assistance and it was arriving.
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Logan
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Patch continued his mad swan dive towards Tom. In his frame of mind, he did not care nor realize that the roof behind him was being blown to bits. Tom moved just as James came down to the ground. In an awkward move that would kill most men, James landed on his neck and right shoulder in a clump, the weight of his body coming down on him with full force. His claws jabbed into the ground on either side of him. However, the feral immediately got to his feet just as Tom began running and firing towards him.

If he had his wits about him, Patch would be sure to see that Rawson was about to unleash another nuclear blast in his direction. At this time, he just didn't care. His red eyes focused on Tom as he began to walk towards his target, the man's bullets bouncing around him and also ricocheting off of his skeleton. The massive laceration on the right side of his face from face-planting on the ground already began to heal as James took another step towards Tom. Just as he did, a bullet from Tom's weapon pinged off of his forehead and made his head snap backwards. Patch stopped in response and yelled at him in a furious roar, raising both claws up to cover his face as he suddenly shot towards the man.

What he didn't see was the massive blast coming towards him from his backside. While he moved quickly, he could not outrun the blast and was hit in the back. The force of the blast propelled him forward and into the walls beyond Tom, he couldn't say where Tom went, but he went straight through the wall as if he was shot out of cannon. Continuing to "ride the wave" Patch went through the next several walls as well until he was launched out the other side of the building where he came to a sliding stop face down in the dirt.

Patch laid motionless with his back still sizzling from the assault. His clothes burned and most of the flesh on the back of his body was ready to slough right off. However, his unbreakable skeleton was still well intact, though his spinal column shown through his torn skin in several places since it was glowing red with heat. Patch exhaled slowly into an unconscious state as his healing factor struggled to find a place to start. Unfortunately, Patch's vengeance was denied.


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