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cut in half; [tommy]
Topic Started: May 10 2010, 11:25 PM (673 Views)
Hellion(old)
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Telekinesis / Flight
Lines blurred into indistinct misshapes, Tommy’s grip wrenching on Julian’s shoulders with a sudden jarring tug, skin twisting underneath the speedster’s fingertips. They moved with surprising speed, Julian’s breath shocked from his lungs as air displaced faster than he could suck it down. Julian prayed for suffocation through superfast translocation, he silently begged for dizziness, fainting, asphyxiation, oxygen trickling in too-small amounts through his brain. After a couple of minutes of not enough air his body would start to shut down, it would go into shock, blood rushing to anything vital just to keep it ticking.

Given the choice Julian didn’t want to think five minutes ahead, and unfortunately for Tommy the world quit blending into dull streaks in a matter of seconds. He popped a shield, a bubble of telekinetic energy tangling over his skin, everything suddenly tense. His muscles felt connected to invisible strings that wound tighter and tighter, some unseen force pulling at his body. He didn’t even hear Tommy griping, whatever he was bitching about. It all kind of sounded like the way characters on kid’s TV show made nonsensical blubbering noises instead of talking like normal people, as if toddlers might relate better to them if they spouted the same random garble. Like inane rambling would push their IQ up a few notches.

Crazy cow was sat up on a ledge sucking on a lollipop. Freaky bitch. His skin crawled. He imagined shoving that stick of candy up her ass and levelled a deadpan gaze at the shape she made against the trees.

To Tommy, he said, “I’m sorry,” still staring at the nurse. Still hearing her voice scraping across his eardrums, still floundering helpless. The air hummed and blistered and that familiar dull snapping sensation crumpled across his clothes. It whipped up around the speedster, green shackles coiling around wrists and ankles, crushing them close together.

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Tommy Shepard
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Tommy's body was beginning to pulsate, his blood seemingly boiling as it rushed scorching through his veins. Jullian, the brash bastard, kept standing their. He obviously wasn't listening to a word the speedster said as he went on about his less than stellar condition. The aches and inconvienences in his body began to twist into more sever pains and the fog that had settled on him earlier in the day became a thick dense thing. The boy found it hard to stand, hard to concentrate. This wasn't right. He had been sick before, plenty of times. It never affected him like this. His antibodies, much like the rest of him, were sped up to unbelievable rates. As such, things like colds and the flu left Tommy much quicker than it would that of a normal person. This, whatever it was, was something else entirely.

"Dude, I don't care if you're sorry. just wanna sleep," he muttered out, almost siliently, as speaking was becoming laborous. Suddenly, and with a sickeningly jarring effect to the boy's momentarily delicate stomach, he was pulled up and together by Julian's abilities. His hands and feet were held by green energy shackles. He had been snuck up on. Usually, when even a waft of foul play floated in the air, the speedster would be sure to be far away. He had time for that. It was the perk of being who he was. Now however, with his body turning on him, he seemed at Hellion's mercy, a thought that, even in his sickened state, made him mad with anger.

"Julian," he snapped, as a sudden rush of adreneline coursed through him. "WHat the hell are you doing This isn't funny man."

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Hellion(old)
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Telekinesis / Flight
Yeah, this wasn’t funny, but Julian might have laughed if his throat wasn’t crushed up in knots against his windpipe. Struggling and slurring and making feeble complaints, Tommy was pathetic and impotent, all tangled in TK. Julian’s fingers twitched, buzzing in greenlight. Self-destruction had never been so difficult. His detrimental tendencies had never before really involved another person. Not like this, not directly.

Sometimes it felt like he was bent on sabotaging himself. He’d build everything up to a point and then get this overwhelming urge to do something incredibly moronic and watch it all topple, as if his life was one big stack of cards. Until now it had never felt like anything more than playing with paper castles. Not quite real or tangible. The cars, his family, Bailey, the drugs-- conscious or otherwise, there had been something indistinct and depersonalised about those experiences and for whatever reason, those choices had never defined him. Either way, he had done it all to himself. Now someone else was about to vandalise what little credibility he had regained.

To Tommy, he spat, “Shut up;” grasp wavering. It didn’t fall slack. Every tic and squirm the speedster made travelled along the telekinetic bonds like little electric shocks. Julian hesitated, glancing at Layla. She made a nasty little shape on the periphery of his vision, a white nodule he couldn’t not see.

Bitch.

Julian pressed his eyes shut, lifted Tommy thirty foot into the air, and slammed him hard into the ground.
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Tommy Shepard
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What the hell was going on ? Tommy's head was swimming in some sort of unnatural mugginess. It had become so bad that the boy almost couldn't speak, let alone do anything to defend himself against what he was coming to realize was a real attack on him from Julian. Trapped inside the green tendrils of Julian's tk, Tommy struggled futilely against the power. His moves were sluggish and without much effect. He cursed the shot that had seemingly put him in this haze, and even more strongly cursed the smug bastard that had him tied up.

He had always disliked Hellion. He knew people like that in Jersey, people who thought they were better just because there parents drove a nice car or put them in expensive clothes. The speedster had hated them then and being at the school changed nothing. As he wriggled unsuccessfully trying to gain escape from the other boy's hold, he felt a familiar sensation. As a speedster, Tommy's body worked quicker than that of others. He could feel his immune system clicking into gear, his metabolism breaking down his foods, and he could feel the poison being purged from his body. The veil started to lift, he was getting his speed back. Julian was quickly becoming one among the world's countless snails. "Just a little longer," he gritted through his teeth as the boy threw him up into the air and smashed him against the ground. The blow knocked the wind out of him, sent him reeling.

Across the distance, a blond woman looked at her watch and grinned. "This is about to get interesting."

Tommy popped up as the drugs were still burning off. He was quick enough to do damage now. "You've had it now Maximillion," he smirked as he threw his arms forward, unleashing a wave of hyperkenetic vibrations toward the boy.
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Hellion(old)
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He felt it give way, that half-second flicker of detachment. His grip on Tommy spasmed, epileptic, and that was all the speedster needed. Shepard’s speed was shocking. Horrified, sluggish, Julian tried to turn, twist round, performing an awkward back peddle.

The ground opened up, rivulets of rock vaporising under duress, little explosions hammering the floor marked by sonic booms that lagged in weird syncopations. Hyperkinetic vibrations bounced against his shielding and buckled it, bizarre ripples contorting the green surface like something semi liquid and viscous until it burst, a frill of colour dashing the air and Julian, limbs spitting back, felt his skin bruise and part and blood cascade across his chin. It struck him hard enough to push him back, shoving him off balance.

His hands were all over his face, Julian gawping and gasping in shock and dull pain and dismayed horror and some burning rage with which he couldn’t fully connect. His blood was all over his neck.

Julian got airborne, telekinetic strings tightening across Tommy’s body. He panicked, training forgotten. This wasn’t the same as saving some defunct station or fighting holographic thugs down in the Danger Room or even talking smack at businessmen wearing their arrogance like a tux. He didn’t want to do this and moreover, he didn’t know how; Tommy’s durability was indefinite.

Trails of green light hung umbilical from Julian’s hands, pinned hard against Tommy, flattening him against the ground below. He reached out, not analysing, not thinking. Tree roots groaned and snapped, wrenched through earth and twisted around like taffy, soil-crumbling and splintered. Concrete slabs crawled with TK, blustering dust and shattered particles, lifting into the air as if made of polystyrene. He flung them at the imprisoned speedster, a rain of grey, all sickening thuds. The chewed-up tree remained hovering, stupid and impossible, halfway between the dusty slab pile and Julian.
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Tommy Shepard
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Tommy's revival was short lived. The besieged speedster's instincts and reaction time were still a bit impaired. The flummoxing serum that he had unknowingly been injected with the mysterious blond woman was proving to be more than a little inhibiting. Speed, feeling up against a wall, went directly for the big guns, throwing a stream of hyperkinetic vibrations toward his attacker. These vibrations, made literally of the force that the boy produced inside his body, had a way of draining him even when he was feeling his best. Even a short burst of these vibrations was enough to leave the boy empty and exhausted. Given the fact that he was already at that state, these vibrations were likely his last best hope of winning this fight.

Much to his dismay, Julian diverted his assault with seemingly little effort. Using his impressive abilities to control not only Speed but the world around him. Pulling up the ground, pavement, trees, dirt, all of it seemed to obey Julian's command. Though he hated him and though he was nearly dead with exhaustion, he still managed to muster up a bit of awe. Tommy admired power and, as much as he hated to admit it, Julian had power.

Tommy once again became entangled in the strong tendrils of telekinetic energy that emerged from Julian's mind. The bits and pieces of world that Julian had ripped up and caused to dance around, succumbing to his will, began to rain down on Tommy. He was exhausted. This time there would be no surge of speed to save him, no insanely fast vibrations to shake him free. This time, all Tommy had was a strangled cry to help him.

"Hellion, No," he screamed as the rain of objects fell upon him, drowning his yelp. Tommy could feel his bones crack and snap as he was pummeled with the various objects. He nearly lost consciousness as one particularly large piece of debris struck him in the head. When it was over, he lay there bleeding and broken, unable to move as the remains of the tree sat in the air, threatening to attack.

Layla was there, in the thick of it as the dust settled. He steps were light and her face had none of the strained expressions that marked the boys' faces. She brushed out her hair with her hands, making sure none of the smaller debris had violated the sanctity of her golden curls.

"Well," she said, folding her arms and tapping her foot. "What are you gonna do with that tree Flyboy ? He doesn't seem like much of threat anymore, but hey, if you wanna go all Wile E Coyote on him, I guess that's up to you." Layla stood staring, never breaking eye contact. She knew how this was going to end, but she wasn't telling.
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Hellion(old)
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He’d over-judged it. He knew before the final chunk fell and snapped, too heavy in his grasp, straining against his arms. Julian levitated motionless, a sickly surge of dread bucking hard in his chest, the seconds sluggish in a strange pocket of nothing around him. He counted the clods of debris, the earth-boulders and the snarl of snapped branches and the way the ground folded over itself and how it became trifurcated where roots split the surface, and felt like he had all the time in the world time to do so.

Layla’s eyes were on him and he could feel them slide like oil all over his skin. It took nearly all of his will to stop himself from tossing the conifer straight at the smug tart, to see her crushed beneath it, her bones broken and her skull shattered and her blood all over the grass instead of Tommy’s. Julian realised he was clenching his jaw so tight his head ached.

When he was eight he’d had a cruel curiosity so common to kids of that age, the kind that prompts them to stick pins in bugs and peel apart their carapaces and spray spiders with household cleaners and pour hot water into ants nests and watch them pool into the open shrivel-limbed and crippled. He’d snuck into the neighbour’s house and into the pink-pink bedroom of the spoilt brat they called Precious and Princess and on the rare occasion, Madison, and he’d opened her hamster cage and grabbed Mr Munca and taken him home. He’d tied a parachute made of paper around the little guy’s body and dropped him out of the top floor window to see if the poor thing would fly. Seeing Mr Munca lying motionless on the ground below had struck him with an intense kind of chill, the realisation he’d done something very, very wrong, and there was no way of making that mistake disappear. He’d hidden in his closet for hours until they’d found him blotchy-faced and huddled small behind a stack of toy boxes.

Julian felt like that now, except on a much bigger scale. Tommy didn’t move, and Julian was immobilized. The tree slid to the ground, telekinetic strings popping strand by strand, his powers losing consistency, stretching out into skinny ropes before fraying and dissipating. Splinters and leaves decorated the air above it in a brief haze of colour, trunk thudding, bouncing once and then sighing and settling, felled beneath him.

Something jack-knifed in the telekinetic. Julian bombed towards the crater and crashed to a stop next to the speedster, dropping onto a knee, intending on jamming two fingers against Tommy’s dust-smeared neck, and then faltering, jaw slackening, at finding him still conscious and breathing and completely fucked, but alive. Up close the damage was worse, all red and purple and swollen.

“Oh shit, shit, I’m sorry, man, I’m… I didn’t…” Julian pressed his mouth shut, glancing up in Layla’s direction. I didn’t have a choice. His face hurt, blood warm around his collar.
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