ArchivedLogs:Cooked Meat

Cooked Meat
Warning: Violence.
Dramatis Personae Alison, Anole, Flicker, Jackson, Lorna, Mallory, Peter, Thomas, Inès, Anna, John Sublime
In Absentia	2014-04-14 I feel a great swell of pity for the poor fool who comes to that school looking for trouble. (Part of Perfectus TP.)
Location <XS> Second Floor Hall - FL2
The main hallway of the second floor runs lengthwise through the building, secondary corridors branching off at regular intervals. Tall windows at either end allow daylight to filter in, while rows of recessed lights in the ceiling bathe the hall with an incandescent glow come nighttime. The hardwood floor has a slight creak to it. It is a gorgeous sunny-warm spring day. Bright and beautiful in the period after classes have ended. Somewhere on the grounds people have been -- doing whatever students do after class. Practicing sports. Playing frisbee. Lounging. In the rec room nearby there is video gaming. Somewhere in the bowels of the school there is an X-Man powwow happening, one of /many/ in this kind of /tense/ time of mutilations and disappearances. No doubt /some/ students have started on their homeworks already. The mansion is lively and bustling, really, even /with/ the tension an /energy/ to it that the unhappy occurrences cannot shut down -- probably the weather is helping. That energy is -- juuust about to explode. Very abruptly, really, with the sudden -- it's not a /blare/ of alarm, anymore, they've finally-finally /fixed/ that out of respect for the many residents of the school with ultra-sensitive hearing. But there's an intermittent flash-flash-flash of lights, an odd dissonant tone that, while not blaring is nevertheless very /noticeable/ throughout the building. It's some warning, for sure, and suddenly the building is locking down, steel shutters clamping over its windows, doors locking; somewhere /in/ that meeting the X-Men are being mobilized and here /in/ the hallway very /abruptly/ students are pouring -- some panicked, some /orderly/, they've /drilled/ for this -- towards the stairs. It's warning, but it isn't much. And the locking down doesn't /help/, because a bare moment later -- there's a shuddering /rip/ rending the air just in front of the stairwell. Finding the door barred to them, their intruders are taking a shortcut. Quite a few shortcuts, it turns out -- elsewhere in the school there are other rips, other entrances. But here on the second floor there are a handful of people climbing /out/ into the hallway. Peter was sitting on top of his bed, busy working on a bit of homework when the alarm went off; in an instant, he's out in the hallway -- clutching a small duffelbag he yanked out from beneath his mattress. He's clad in a short-sleeved t-shirt that exposes his long, dark blue chitinous arms -- and loose-fitting tan-colored khakis; white socks cling to his feet. The alarm has Peter tense, focused -- as the group of students move toward the stairwell, he's frowning, reaching with his free hand to pull his cellphone out of his pocket and start texting people. The list is long; students he knows that he wants to make sure are alright. But when that unusual spatial rip appears in front of the stairwell... the cellphone is instantly in Peter's pocket. The bag is on the ground. His eyes are wide... and then he's dropped the duffelbag, leaping up to attach to the ceiling. Hands and feet. "--crap crap crap--" Peter manages, before adding, loudly: "--everyone stay away from the portals--" The alarm is long-enough gone from Alison's reflexes that by the time she emerges from the Visitor Hall (dressed in jeans and an Xavier's t-shirt) with a confused-looking Anton in tow, the hall is full of students. "Everybody stay calm!" she calls out to those nearest her, pushing into the somewhat-orderly crowd to help with the herding. Anton also wades in, but the red-headed teenager is quickly lost in the mix. The noise of the alarm and the students doesn't seem to faze her ability to hear those around her, and while her attention isn't directly on the stairwell or its sudden opening, Peter's voice catches it quick enough. She glances up, once, to verify his location, then down the hall at those climbing out of said portal. "Crap." Anole was in the Rec Room, busy with a game of Small World, but the sudden panic-button alarm has him -- well, panicking. He's /good/ at that. Barefoot and in jeans and a Wicked t-shirt -- his left arm, now, nearly an /arm/ again, but -- /huge/ and bulky, spikey-hard like his head, its hand more /clawed/ than the other -- he's /peeking/ out of the rec room more than /walking/ out, faded brown like the wood panelling of the hall. The opening rift earns a tiny /squeak/ and he backs up -- along the wall, towards the ceiling. "Ohgodohgod. That's -- notgoodright?" Ines walks up behind him, biting hir lip as she peeks into the hall, her hair gaining a static electric charge that causes the upper strands to start to levitate away from her head. She curses softly in Spanish and tenses as well, trying to stay more behind the door frame than the rapidly disappearing friend beside her. "Portals. Portals where? Shit, Portals? What the hell." Her gaze starts swinging to and fro, looking for a teacher person now that the normal exit is cut off. The alarm tone catches Mallory off guard, the librarian already having returned to her rooms after classes. It takes a few moments for it to sink in that it is the warning alarm, but she is quickly out the door and looking around the hallway, tucking a small fireproof wallet into her hand bag. Dressed casually in black yoga pants and a faded blue-gray tshirt with a skull made of writing on it, Mallory was in the middle of grading when the alarm sounded. Spotting her twin moving towards her in the hallway, she heads to the stairwell, keeping careful pace along side him as they head down the stairs together. "Any idea what is goin on?" Mallory asks Thomas quietly, her hooves clacking quickly against the flooring. Ignoring Thomas's initial snark about elevators, Mallory starts down the stairs with steady confidence. "Pause at two. Students may need assistance in evacuating," she starts to say, eyes widening at the sight of the rifts opening into the student's hall when they reach the second floor. << Oh, oh dear. What on... earth. >> She defaults to telepathic communication with Thomas. Having just stopped back in his room to gather his research tablet after dealing with students all day, Thomas curses under his breath at the alarm going off. At first his mind thinks of ignoring it, but if it were a drill then he would have received some notice of it occuring. "It best not be another apocalypse again," he says to himself as he swings his labcoat back on over his navy blue button up shirt and black slacks. Rather than following for immediate evacuation he starts towards Mallory's door at least that is until he sees her in the hallway. << There you are. Elevators are off, hope you're better at stairs than you used to be. >> Polished wing tips make way at an orderly pace towards the stairs with white labcoat drifting behind him. "Makes me glad I'm not really a smoker. I imagine the stairs would be killing me," he says offhandedly as he starts down the stairs and hears the commotion and backtracking of students away from the trouble below. "Stay calm everyone, remember your alternate evacuation routes" he calls out as he sees the rift. << Not a clue what that is sister. Not a clue. Worm hole? >> Travel up from the basement is a lot faster via teleporting than via the stairs. There's a ghostly shiver-shimmer and suddenly there are two more people /there/ than there were before. Flicker looks dressed more for an office than for /action/, like he often /does/ on a schoolday. A neat dark-green polo shirt, khakis, a faintly wide-eyed look to his quietly serious face; he has one arm looped around Jackson, who he is /depositing/ in the hallway. Special delivery. "-- I think portals right there," he's answering Ines softly, quietly positioning himself between her and the rift. And the people it is disgorging. Jackson, in sharp contrast, looks a /little/ bit dressed for a nightclub. Tight silver-studded black jeans, iridescent sleeveless peacock-hued top, glittery makeup, knee-high silver boots. At least he matches Flicker for /not/ looking like he's come dressed for battle. "Don't know as the stairs is really gonna -- Flicker," his voice is oddly calm, just at the moment, "/might/ be best to keep the kids /in/ the Rec Room. /Just/ for the /moment/." Possibly because the rest of the school is /also/ under attack? And there's nowhere for the teleporter to evac them /to/. Not that he says this aloud. "Mal, Thomas, can you round 'em up. While we --" Stare. Apparently. Because that's what he's doing, just at the moment, as a faint shimmer of shield bubbles into place to surround the people /emerging/ from the portal. All very well and good, but. A lean redhead with a hawkish face is simply walking /through/ the shield, as though it didn't exist; she reaches a hand through it, too, one by one to pull her companions out. A young dark-haired girl with dark eyes and a sharp grin, a tall somewhat androgynous figure who -- vanishes into a mist before really being easy to identify, a shorter pudgy woman who carries with her a swirl of water, a grey-bearded man floating up towards Peter and Anole by the ceiling. Someone else, hard to track, possibly because they /keep/ making those portal-rifts. Shimmer-vanish, shimmer-vanish. The hydrokinetic is lashing out, though, a heavy cudgel-whip of water slamming hard and fast towards Peter and Anole on the ceiling. Who -- have suddenly found themselves a lot. /Heavier/. An inordinate amount of /weight/ pulling them downwards towards the ground, /testing/ their cling. The redhead, meanwhile, is heading towards Alison, fingers flexing thoughtfully. The girl is just -- humming. Quiet, thoughtful. Until very abruptly her quiet-thoughtful hum starts to resonate into a heavier thrum -- and then louder-louder-louder -- until she /pushes/ a sudden blast of /booming/-deafening sonic-blast towards Jackson, painful-thrumming blast towards him though -- likely not pleasant for anyone /else/ around either. "You heard your art teacher, Rec room it is. Follow Miss Winthrop," Thomas calls out as he shifts up the stairs enough to prevent students from going that way, and to make sure that they head through the second floor door. Running a hand through his hair, it pulls back more showing the horns he normally keeps hidden, his charcoal dark face showing a stern look to discourage anyone from trying to go up further. Sliding the tablet into the labcoat to keep his hands free, his eyes scanning the terrain below. << Stay safe sister dear. I will be along shortly >> his thoughts trail to Mallory before she gets out of his range and his mind is left empty and alone. Peter visibly relaxes as he catches sight of Flicker and Jackson -- though his eyes narrow as the figures emerge from that portal... and promptly widen as they step through the light shield, as if it wasn't even there. And then -- the weight is pulling on him, dragging him down -- a rushing sense of vertigo surging up in his stomach. The vertigo throws him off; his cling doesn't fail -- but the ceiling does, the material cracking beneath his increased weight, crumbling through his fingers. Combined with the blast of sonic noise further down the hall, it's enough to send Peter's danger sense screaming to the point of incomprehensibility -- which might explain why he gets hit, dead-on, with that giant water cudgel. *SMACK!* Peter is hit, mid-fall, sent reeling backward -- rolling over the floor, knocking a student or two over in the process -- before landing in a half crouch, hands slapping down on the floor, suddenly sticking -- forcing him to stay put. Peter no longer looks scared, confused, or shocked. Now? He looks pissed. "You heard the man," Alison says to the students nearest her, physically turning them in the direction of the Rec Room as she edges closer to Jackson. "Move!" Her usual bubbliness at seeing Jax is eschewed in the face of the threat, and the ease with which they get through Jackson's shields. When the redhead looks at her, she eases back away from the younger man, and flexes her own fingers. She lifts her eyebrows as the woman approaches her, glimmers of light beginning to appear in the air around her. Her expression is thoughtful, and her gaze narrowed as she watches the other woman. And then, there is sound. Glorious sound. So much sound. While the sonic blast isn't pleasant for those around, Alison absorbs the worst of it around herself, and the glow intensifies around her. She doesn't speak; a quick tightening of her lips is all that she offers before she lifts her hand, and fills the hallway ahead of her with sudden, painfully strobing light. Flicker maybe can't teleport students out of the /building/ but he can certainly teleport them out of the path of immediate /harm/, a sudden flutter-blink winking in to jump him up towards the ceiling and /grab/ Anole from it, moving him -- actually just a few feet to the right to let the water slam in against the ceiling. He deposits Anole by the Rec Room door, his eyes skating over towards Peter. He's at the teen's side in a moment, hand resting on Peter's shoulder. Squeezing there firmly. "-- Look after Anole," is what he says. /Also/ firmly. Anole just /squeaks/ as he's moved out of the way of /suddenlywater/, toppling downwards and backing up against the wall, wide-eyed and kiiind of shaking. His hands press flat against the wall, half green and half brown, now, his -- oddly heavy? -- weight sinking down against the floor uncertainly and his eyes squinting up against the light. "Nnnnnnonononono," he squeaks /again/, when he sees the redhead walk through Jax's shield. "Nononono/no/." Despite the light his eyes open again, fixing on her. He scrambles backwards. Away from the Rec Room, away from /her/, away from all of them. Shuffling away from the stairs, Mallory passes between the portal and the wall, dark eyes narrowing at the shadowy void disgorging people into the hall. As she does, she puts herself between the intruders and the students, rising imposingly to her full height to reate more of a block. "Got it," Mallory agrees, nodding once as she starts to usher the kids back towards the Rec room, her voice authoritative but reassuring, "Alright kids, this way. Come along, stairs are a touch iffy right now. Back this way." Moving carefully, Mallory begins scooting the kids towards the Rec Room, keeping her expression and tone as neutral as she can. "Away from the creepy people," says the demonic librarian, placing herself between the students and the new threats as she guides them into the rec room, doing well to keep the panic out of her voice. << You too, brother mine >> she offers to Thomas before sliding out of range, guiding students into the room and remaining by the doorway for all the good it might do. Looming. "So not good," Ines replies to Anole, losing track of him quickly in the mess of activity. Still, she looks a little relieved when Flicker steps in, even if he does tease her. "Yeah, well, you know, I didn't see it at first, okay? Now I do." Nervous chatter can't be helped as the teenage girl moves away from the incoming creeps and heads toward the Rec Room. She yelps when Anole and Peter are attacked and she scowls at the woman with the water. There's another string of Spanish curse words as she keeps trucking along, blinded by the light Alison produces and trying to avoid getting wet as much as possible. She pauses by the door when she hears her friend get away and calls back, "Anole, No! Stick together! Please, Honey, come this way!" Beneath Flicker's hand, Peter is tense -- dense, powerful muscles coiling -- his grip on the floor possibly the only thing stopping him from flying toward the fray. His head snaps up toward Flicker, eyes bright and angry -- at the X-man's words, his teeth clench, and for an instant, it seems like he's about to argue. But then... he glances back at Anole. The tenseness melts; his breath catches. "--okay," he whispers, before: "Don't die." And then, with or without the increased weight, he is springing to his feet, charging toward Anole -- leaping onto the walls and ceilings to run across them on all fours when necessary -- intent on swooping down to wrap an arm around the lizard boy's waist and scoop him up into his grip. Aiming for the side without MassiveBigArm. "Relax, relax, I've got you, nobody is hurting you," Peter says, maybe with just a bit more fierceness than is appropriate. Like a Gollum snagging up his Precious. The strange mistform-person has not yet reformed; instead there's a slithering creep of oily-misty /something/ starting to fog up the hall. Creep-creep-fog. Creeep-creep-fog. It smells -- kind of like onions. A little burny to the eyes. A little hard to breathe. The man by the ceiling is squeezing his hands together, eyes closed in perhaps concentration. And localized to the area around the Rec Room where Mallory and Thomas and the kids are standing their own personal /gravity/ is getting a whole lot /stronger/. It's getting much harder to /move/. Limbs feeling heavier, a steadily growing weight to anchor all the retreating students in /place/. The audiokinetic, /confused/, is gearing up another sonic /blast/ to shock out towards Jax, just as heavy-thrumming as before. "Children, you need to clear the way so those trained for it can protect you," Thomas says with as much authority as he can muster in the noise and mess going on. The growing mass makes him frown with exertion however, and the onion stench just makes him raise a brow. "Methionine and cystine? Honestly, what a poor excuse for a chemical reagent change. My students whip up worse gaseous substances by accident." The insult... probably isn't exactly much of an insult, but in the stress and chaos his mind seeks pure science to push him through. The hydrokinetic's watery whipcords, lashing like tentacles, are snaking out towards Flicker. They curl out like a net across the hallway, reaching up and around to try and /snare/ the teleporter -- reaching for arms, for legs, for /throat/, wherever they can /grab/ onto. The redhead, meanwhile, is diving -- into? Through? The beams of light. To clamp a hand -- /that/ part of her is solid, a least -- around Alison's throat. Jackson flinches away from the sudden deafening thrum but -- the subsequent strobing from Alison just makes his teeth bare in -- perhaps a /grin/? And the strobing light, very abruptly, starts to flow /to/ him. He ignores the audiokinetic; /she's/ delicious fuel, for now, it seems. There's a glow lighting around him in the suddenly /well-lit/ hallway -- it channels /upwards/, abruptly, in small fierce-bright blasts towards the man up by the ceiling. It's not aimed to kill, just /searing-hot/ towards his sides, his hands, his shoulders; he seems /focused/. Pain is unfocusing. To say Alison is surprised by the reaction of the redhead is an understatement. Her eyes widen when the woman appears in front of her, and the strobe dies in conjunction with the small choking noise she makes as that hand clamps around her throat. "Get the fuck off," she manages to choke out, forgetting the impressionable young ears that might be within hearing distance. The blonde brings her hand back up, as if she might clutch at that choking hand. Instead, five separate beams sizzle from her curled fingertips to bite into the now-solid flesh around her neck. "She was there she was /there/ --" Anole's squeaky panic continue even after the increasing gravity has them pinned in place; even after he's kind of /sniffly/ (it's totally the onions, honest) and he's just staring towards Ines and Peter. And the redhead down the hall. "Why is she /here/ they already took -- mmngh." And then, puzzled. "It's very bright." Ines drops to her knees finding it easier for the moment than continuing to stand. "Come on and stop boring it to death already, Mr. Winthrop!" The girl continues to crawl her way into the Rec Room, shying away from the attackers outside. She's coughing, however, on the noxious, filmy gas. Flit-flit-blink-/flit/-splash. Teleporting really /fast/ is only helpful when there's -- still somewhere to /go/; Flicker's last jump ends in a sudden cough-splutter of water-rope-around-arm. But he's jumping downwards /with/ it, endeavoring by dint of sheer insane-fast /reflexes/ to wrap it right /back/ around the woman's neck before /she/ has time to throw him again. "-- /Jax/." It's a liiittle bit pleading. "Nnngh." Peter is straining against the increased weight -- muscles pulsing, rippling -- as he attempts to drag Anole back, away from the conflict, away from the aura of ever-increasing gravity. Even as he does, though -- and his eyes catch sight of the yellow fog -- his brows crumple together, as he hollers: "FLICKER! DUFFEL BAG! GAS MASKS!" Inside Peter's duffel bag -- dropped in the middle of the hall -- is Peter's bodyarmor. Sitting on top of it are two hoods that resemble ski masks -- with large, white buggy eyes -- and respirators attached to the front. Designed to handle fire smoke, keeping it out of the eyes while also filtering as much soot as possible from the mouth. The redhead /hisses/ in abrupt surprise. Also abrupt is the very solid /rest/ of her, leaned up against Alison in involuntary /re/corporealness with the unexpected burn-pain. Her grip loosens -- for a moment -- tightens again -- loosens again with her fingers charred and eyes wide-startled. Her other hand is starting to come up, fisted, towards Alison's gut. The man on the ceiling does, in fact, lose his concentration, tumbling down towards the ground with a /number/ of burns sizzled into him. The gravity in the hall is starting to normalize as, instead, he turns his attention to slamming a rather /crushing/-heavy weight down into Jackson instead. The audiokinetic is /frowning/, this is -- not how she /expected/ things to go. Her hand is clamped over her mouth, her breathing a bit strained, too. The hydrokinetic's watery grip is tightening on Flicker's arm, whipping out to slam him hard over her shoulder, towards the wall. When the redhead hisses, and her eyes widen, Alison manages a grin, inhaling quickly as the pressure on her throat loosens. "/There/ you are," she says as she feels that sudden weight, and her eyes flash a half-second before she releases something that looks a lot like Cyclops' eye-blast; solid light aimed directly at her attacker's face. Alison rides the kick, allowing it to propel her backwards -- hopefully out of reach. Mallory snorts at Ines's comment at Thomas, struggling under the weight of additional gravity, her tail lashing sluggishly in aggitation. A low growl escapes her throat as she narrows her eyes against the coiling, foul mist, holding her breath as best she can for a while. She drops to one knee, awkwardly landing and bracing herself against the door frame of the Rec Room. Eyes close briefly against the bright, flashing light, a faint hiss of pain at the sudden strobing and seering lights - she fishes blindly in her bag for a pair of large black sunglasses which she shoves onto her face. Thankfully - one of the flashes comes with a return to normal gravity, and Mallory stands up to her full height to block the door, glancing back into the rec room to make sure the students who had made it in were /staying/ in there, as opposed to being ferreted away under her watch. There's another blast -- this one's /bigger/, harsher, it shoots out fiery-bright to burn its way against the upper-right side of the hydrokinetic's chest as she slams Flicker against the wall. Jax's teeth are gritted as he sinks to the floor, something angry in his expression as a brighter glow starts to build around him -- and then fades. Instead, a very thin band of shield wraps itself around the gravity-manipulator's throat, squeezing there slowly to suppress his air. Flicker /oofs/ heavily as he slams into the wall, wind rushing out of him, teeth gritted. He doesn't /stay/ there long, though, blinking away to scoop up Peter's bag -- or scoop the contents out of it. He disappears with them, vanishing down the hall to hand one of the gasmasks to Alison before returning to give the other to Jax. And then blip-blip-blipping around tho circle behind the poor /bemused/ audiokinetic and -- almost /regretfully/ -- loop a hand behind her neck to compress an elbow around her throat. He even apologizes, quiet, "{Sorry}," in Spanish, while he does. More phased by the added mass than the chemicals in the air, Thomas looks to Ines. "Very well then, I suggest you seek cleaner air in the rec room. And we'll bore her to death the old fashioned way," scooting people in now that the gravity of the situation has improved he heads for the fridge oddly enough and starts to rummage through it. "As I was saying, the stench you were smelling is fairly pitiable, and ought can be neutralized the same way you neutralize other acid compounds, a base. Aerosolized sulfides and a proper base, and the culprit herding us will have little choice but to materialize." The gravity manipulator, already weakened with the blasts, doesn't take long to fade into unconsciousness; the hydrokinetic is pretty much there there with the /bigger/ blast she's taken. Alison's light knocks the woman slamming backwards into the wall, bleeding copiously out of her nose and mouth as she crumples against the wall. The audiokinetic is almost graceful in her gentle lean against Flicker. Behind them all by the head of the stars that rift shivers, and opens again. The man who steps through looks like he could be a teacher here himself. Dressed well in a suit, mid-forties, a /distinguished/ touch of silver in his hair; he surveys the scene with -- perhaps -- a touch of disappointment. Brows furrowed. A slow exhale. "What," John Sublime says, very quietly, head shaking, "have you done." Ines breathes only slightly easier once the gravity returns to normal, the gas still posing a problem. She continues to cough and hack as she finally makes her way to the door, only to find Mallory standing there. "Oh, hi there." Her attention very quickly shifts to the new person, her brows furrowing as her eyes narrow. "Boss battle." She stays low and glares, moving up onto her toes and fingertips. Anole presses closer to Peter at this; his eyes are watery, his breathing raspy. With intermittent /sneezing/. He shiver-shudders when Sublime shows up, slooowly scooting towards the Rec Room again along with Peter. "... he looks like a lawyer." Which in his timid tone doesn't, actually make it sound /not/ like a Boss Battle. Alison grabs the gasmask as Flicker drops it next to her, and pulls it on over her head without question. She breathes deeply, clearing her lungs and nostrils just before John Sublime steps through the portal. There's a noise from the singer, as if she might respond, but instead she edges closer to Jax, narrowing her eyes behind the goggles. Her fingers remain curled into a loose fist. Just in case Ines is right. Peter squeezes Anole reassuringly, creeping back with the teenager; he coughs and hacks, eyes growing wet. "Nngh," he responds, glancing up toward Mallory -- and the man in the suit past her, in the hall. He grunts at Anole's comment, before: "...s'okay. I think -- worst is over. Maybe. Dammit why don't I have webshooters?!" he murmurs under his breath, probably just loud enough for Anole to hear. "Maybe he's just here to... serve us papers." Jax straps on his mask, too, drawing in a deep hungry breath. And then just -- staring, his sole eye wide in contrast to Alisons narrow one. "-- Oh. Gosh." It sounds oddly polite in his thick southern accent, like hes almost feeling apologetic after Sublime's mild reproach. Except then he's pressing at the collar around his neck, letting its string of lights light /up/. And then, very abrupt and without any further /anything/, he's taking a half-step /back/, one hand lifting and a sudden /blast/ of energy shooting hard and fast straight for the -- lawyer. At the greeting from Ines's surprises Mallory, glancing down briefly with a raised eyebrow, "Hi. In you go." Adjusting her position to let enough room for the student to get through to the room, Mallory moves back to block the door. Mallory's wine colored lips draw back in a snarl at the new arrival, glaring through dark lenses at him, her sinuous tail lashing disapprovingly. When Peter and Anole approach, Mallory reaches out an arm to gesture towards the door, splitting her attention between Sublime and the pair approahing the room. "Air's better in here. In you go, please," Mallory says, a touch of pleading in her voice as she shifts just enough to allow them through if they move into the room. << Thomas... I... good god he looks like Dad used to. Eugh. Lawyers >> she thinks distastefully, targeted at Thomas alone echoing quietly << Boss battle. >> "Doctor, actually," John Sublime answers, quiet and oddly polite. The blast of light passes right through him, searing its way into the wall behind him. "Oh," he says this with a /smile/, warm and beatific, "that /is/ delightful. I think I'll have that one, too." His hand is reaching out. /Pulling/, with a slow crank of telekinesis, to draw Jackson nearer. His eyes turn towards Mallory in the doorway. "I'll take them all eventually, you know. But -- but." But here he's solid again, by the time he's pulled Jackson in; the hand that clamps around the photokinetic's arm, at least, is very much flesh. And very much /stronger/ than any human hand has a right to be, squeezing in with a grip firm enough to crack bone. "I didn't realize your entire /school/ was such a buffet. We thought. A few people here, there. And this. This is a /feast/." Ines crawls in behind Mallory, who is blocking the door to the Rec Room where all the teens are hiding. She is still working to clear some of the nasty smoke in her lungs that is permeating the hallway. She moves in beside Peter and Anole, still staying ready near the door, eying the mess outside, eyes widening and then narrowing once more as Doctor Sublime drags Jackson closer and squeezes his arm. "{SHIT}" She swears in Spanish, watching. Alison's not much for monologing, and she makes a face behind the mask. "You're not 'eating' anyone," she says, and unleashes another sizzling beam at the man when he solidifies to grab Jackson. She's already moving as soon as she fires, heading back towards the Rec Room to help those standing guard. "In fact, you should probably change your diet. It's about to disagree with you." "--no," Peter says, voice quiet and muted, eyes as wide as saucers -- as John Sublime reaches for Jackson's throat and seizes it. His grip on Anole is, for just a moment, almost intolerably strong; his body jerks forward, as if intent on charging directly into the fray. The only thing that keeps him in place is his grip on Anole; a grip he is forcing himself to loosen. "No, no, no, I have to..." Teeth grit. Peter doesn't respond to Mallory's request to enter the rec room; he seems locked in place, torn between keeping Anole safe and -- doing something. Jackson's breath hisses inward with that sharp crack of bone; in Sublime's hand, his wrist twists at a decidedly uncomfortable-unnatural angle. His skin starts to /glow/, a searing-bright light that, while not much to look at, /heats/ his hand and arm -- abruptly overcharged to burning-hot temperatures probably far too searing to keep hold of. At least without charring flesh from bone. The beam sears into the Very Nice fabric of John Sublime's coat; he hisses -- maybe more at this than at the sudden burning of his hand, when he drops Jax's wrist. It's almost casual, the heavy /thud/ of his fist outward towards Jax's sternum; sort of like pushing him away, /discarding/ him, but with a lot more bone-cracking /force/ involved. "I agree." The word comes with a heavy /breath/ of flame pushed out in Alison's direction -- whoooosh. "I like my food better cooked." Lorna flies into the hallway from the stairs, drifting into the space with a stony expression. Her hair floats all around her as if she were underwater while she moves. She takes a long moment to assess the situation, and then gestures with her hand. All at once, the material of her X-Man uniform bursts into tatters as the iron bands woven through burst free. Normally they serve the purpose of being armor, but here it looks like she means to repurpose them. The bands whip out to catch Jax, forming into a surprisingly gentle, if firm, net when Sublime throws him away. They try to slow his fall and set him on his feet again. BLINK-flick. There is -- very suddenly no /Alison/ where that flame was headed; Flicker is there and gone in a heartbeat, /depositing/ her (maybe just /slightly/ disorientingly) on Sublime's other side. "Sorry," is apologetic again, wide-eyed. "I kind of like you uncooked." "Peter, No." Ines does her best commanding voice, turning her eyes on her classmate instead. She reaches out to grab at his shoulder. "You have to wait. Stay with us. Me and Anole. We need you. Okay? Let the teachers blast this guy outta here, okay?" Speaking of blasts, there is now a blast of fire heading their way. Ines yelps and pulls back, covering herself. Anole's eyes are just -- staaaring. At all of this. And maybe scooting closer to the Rec Room, still -- though he still hasn't. /Quite/. Made it all the way in. But at that sudden blast of flame, /now/ he /scrambles/, around behind Mallory's legs to /dart/-hide, past her, tucking in against Ines. "Ohmygod," he squeaks again. "Whatisthatguy can he do /everything/ Professor Winthrop," could perhaps be /either/ of them, "he makes /no sense/." "Peter, Anole, please. Get into the room," Mallory says quietly, her eyes focused on Sublime, still reaching her hand out to the both of the students, "Please. Get behind me." Behind the dark glasses, her eyes are watering, but she snarls violently, pointed teeth bared in anger when addressed. "Like hell you will," she growls, hands clenched into fists, her stance spreading into a defensive stance, blocking as much of the door as she can with her not-insignificant form. As the gout of flame blasts towards her and the room, Mallory barely flinches, flinging off her sunglasses, eyes closing as she attempts to block the doorway further to keep flames from licking their way in to the students. Even as the flame dies down, the air around her is approaching uncomfortably warm levels. "I... don't know. But I will /not/ let him hurt you," she answers Anole quietly, still holding her ground in the doorway despite the fiery threat, "You may want to stand back from me though. Move the other students to the far wall, please." Luckily for Peter -- and anyone in his immediate vicinity -- he sees it coming. Focused on the conflict, Peter's eyes narrow a moment before John Sublime exhales fire -- this time, his danger sense works as intended. As Anole scrambles away behind Mallory, Peter lets go -- instead, reaching for Ines. To slap a hand on her back and spring up -- above the door to the rec room, landing on the wall with one arm coiled around Ines' waist. An instant later, and he is -- dropping down, to place Ines gently on the floor and -- move, very reluctantly, into the rec room. Behind Mallory. Alison is in the process of leaning back from that flame -- maybe Matrix-style -- when Flicker grabs her and she is suddenly BEHIND Sublime. She inhales sharply, and offers Flicker a smile he can't see behind her mask. She recovers quickly, spinning and sending another, larger laser from gun-fingers clenched together. It makes a distinct noise as it sears the air on the way to its target; which is the middle of John Sublime's neatly-tailored /back/. "Someone keep an extinguisher ready. We've got flames out here," Thomas calls back into the rec room as he hugs the wall against a flame gout. "Bloody suppression might kick in," he says and slides the labcoat off, and slides the hydrophic bundle down the hall abit. There isn't exactly a good place to stand between the laser fire and flame gouts, so keeps hugged against the wall. Jackson coughs -- his body crumples slightly inwards as he is thrown back -- thankfully /not/ ricocheting from one blow into another, thanks to Lorna's timely arrival. His teeth are still gritted when he's set down; hopefully she'll accept his nod as gratitude, because his arm is curled in against his chest, his breathing kind of too ragged, at the moment, for much speech. He sinks down to a half-kneeling crouch, good wrist braced against the ground and a searing laser of light sweeping out to seek to hamstring the RaidBoss. Anole bites down on his lip, casting a wide-eyed worried look towards the chaos going on out in he hall. Particularly Jax's ragged breathing, his own voice kind of a tiny whimper as he looks at the art teacher. "Oh -- okay," he says, quietly, "Okay okay. Okay, everyone -- to the far wall, right, that's. Better. Safer, right. Right?" He looks at Ines and Peter as though for confirmation of this. And then in a sort of stage whisper: "-- did you see her just /stop/ the /fire/ that's kind of totally cool." Ines turns and keeps her arms around Anole as Peter comes crashing into sweep them further back, away from the flames and now the super hot librarian. She turns her head once they have landed to keep an eye out for more danger, then begins to turn to the other teens in the room, rising from Anole's side, and starting to usher them back away from the door and where the windows usually are. "Peter. Extinguishers. You and me, we gotta keep this room from getting toasted, okay?" She sniffs a little laugh, sweat starting to form on her face. "She's amazing. We're going to be okay." She then peels away and goes to grab one of the fire extinguishers to arm herself. John draws in a sudden sharp breath at the beam, and he, too, is crumpling. By the time Jackson's sweeps towards him it just passes /through/, again. He draws in a slow breath, and then another. And rises, shoving his hands out to shove Alison and Flicker hard /into/ Jackson and Lorna, sending all four of them thudding into the far wall. "I came here," he says -- still oddly /calm/, "to /help/. Build the /future/." Like -- these people are so backwards! Why can't they see. "--yes," Peter agrees with Anole, though whether or not it's the bit about it being totally cool or just confirming that the far wall is safer -- is hard to say! He spares a glance back at the chaos still raging in the hallway, still tense, before -- glancing to Ines, blinking at her. He gives a rough, quick nod. And then -- he is bounding, besides Ines, searching for conveniently located fire extinguishers. Snatching up one, rolling it toward Anole -- before immediately going searching for the next one! Lorna yelps in pain as she's slammed back against the wall, and pushes against the force as hard as she can to move through the magnetic fields. "You're not the future, you psychopath..." her voice trails off as she focuses on moving the iron bands again, attempting to get them in a swirling pattern around John. If she can manage it, she'll use them as a frame for an induction heater, and see how the incorporeal likes having super-heated iron in his airspace. Hearing the deep breathing of John, Thomas frowns as the crazy man stands back up. "I hate to do this, I really do." << I'll try to block this, but pain can be hard to filter, >> his mind calls back to his sister as he moves closer to the fray rather than away from it. Step, step, ste...and the last step ends as a wingtip sizzles from the heat, the button up shirt and slacks falling to the ground in a haze of smoke as they smoulder, and a roiling mass of still superheated from the change smoke flows down the hallway towards the John Sublime, funneling down to look almost serpentine in shape. It's Alison's sparse training that has her go limp when she's suddenly airborne, although she makes a noise of surprise when it happens. There's another, less-surprised and more pained sort of sound when she collides with the other three, and then the wall. Dazed, she rolls to one side, off the pile, and pulls herself against the wall, her breathing ragged with exertion and adrenaline. "Oh, God, just /hit/ him, Lorna," she groans. "Hard." << I really hope it doesn't >> Mallory thinks to Thomas, glancing behind her to make certain the students have moved out of the potential line of fire, as it were. Nodding in approval at Anole's directing, Mallory turns her attention back to the task at hand. "Just don't aim them at me, please," she says to the students as they gather the fire extinguishers. Her clothing is scorched, skin blackened in several places from the flame, though she pays it no mind having had worse before, brushing chunks of toasted shirt off of her torso, "Bloody hell, I liked this shirt." Dark eyes track to Thomas where he stands in the hallway before glancing to Sublime again << I don't want to go yet. Need to keep the kids safe. Last resort. >> Her breathing, now that the fires have past is forcibly measured, and there is an occasional grimace from the librarian, a harsh gasp of breath as her twin transforms. "Shit," she hisses between gasps, a hand clutching at her chest, only serving to further damage the poor shirt. Never the less, she watches, still standing upright, still holding guard in front of the students. Jackson draws in breath sharp and yelping, cracked sternum -- not /appreciating/ the collision overmuch, as he slumps down to the floor. "Mngh," is his very quippy comeback to all this. And then, unhappily, "-- we might /need/ him, though. Theres so many people he -- took parts from we -- can't put /right/ without --" His words stutter off uncomfortably, breath wheezing out of the mask. He watches the smoke roil towards the man, watches the metal whirl, and the glow that /has/ been starting to grow around him slowly subsides. Inside the whirling metal John Sublime is crouched on the floor -- clearly in some /pain/ from the injury Alison seared into his back. The four people outside are lifting, again; he's starting to lift all four of them -- to dash them /back/ against the wall, perhaps. His teeth are clenched in a grimace and his face is slowly /reddening/. But then, abruptly, with a snarl of irritation, he just lets all four of them heavily /drop/, rolling /through/ the whirling metal to escape the superheated prison. And rolling straight /into/ the superheated -- Thomassmoke. Cough. Hack-hack-cough-wheeze. It seems even an /intangible/ person still needs to /breathe/. And judging by his /still/overheated-red expression, out-of-the-frying-pan into-the-fire, he's not /enjoying/ still-being-cooked any, either. Perhaps /even/ phased molecules don't /like/ being over-excited? "... does this mean we can eat /him/." Anole doesn't say it with a whole /lot/ of relish. But his jaw is /set/, his chin turned up just a /little/ defiantly. Going through Thomas's mind is a simple thought, a count slowly rising as he envelops Sublime, with an underriding thought that the average person will die from smoke inhalation in a period of two to ten minutes, with the effects of carbon monoxide poisoning leading to permanent brain damage before that point is reached, a perhaps creepy thought to share with his sister. Still with the monster firmly settled in his mass he tightens the dispersal inward surrounding the man as densely as he can and pushing out even the slightest hint of oxygen. "... does this mean we can eat /him/." Anole doesn't say it with a whole /lot/ of relish. But his jaw is /set/, his chin turned up just a /little/ defiantly. "It's a little hard to hit him," Lorna says through gritted teeth. "When he's like /that/." She rises into the air again when the telekinetic grip releases her, and gestures to keep her knot of white-hot iron orbiting within Sublime's phased body-space as best she can. There's a point at which Sublime shivers back into corporealness, a heavier set to his form, clothes wrinkling /differently/ on his body. It's -- probably the point at which he hits unconsciousness, passing out with the smoke inhalation. The oniongas in the hallway dissipates as the man solidifies back into a man. With a small /whimper/. "-- oh no." There are tears in his eyes. He looks genuinely upset. "Eeeesh, Anole. That's gross. Don't. Do you even know where that's been? I mean, seriously. We have a whole cafeteria of food that doesn't include creepy jerkfaces that are bathing in Professor Winthrop's ... um... essence." Ines is not pleased with the notion of smoked big boss for dinner, no matter how well they are cooking him. "...I bet Sebastian--" Peter starts, but this train of thought is promptly derailed. He shakes his head, having snatched up a fire extinguisher, and is now steadily hunting down flames -- ready to fwoosh any in his vicinity! Quickly glancing up past Mallory toward the battle, now and then. "... we should get him to the DR." Jax's voice, if pained, is very quiet. "There's a lot of people who --" He swallows. "Maybe the Professor can make him fix them." Jax's voice interrupts the count down Thomas's mind as he thins the dense smoke and raises upward, small bits of smoke actually flowing out of nose and mouth of the unconscious form on the ground. All the bits rises upward to rest against the ceiling. << I... I just didn't want him to hurt anyone else... >> comes a small feeling of sadness across the telepathic link to his sister. Lorna causes the hot iron to spin very fast, no longer in a heating field. She spins the bands to cool them, and when they're no longer hotter than simply scalding, she scoops them under and wraps them around Sublime several times, lifting his body into the air. "To the Danger Room then?" Mallory watches with a neutral expression, leaned heavily against the door frame as her twin strangles the villain. A faint smirk tugs at her lips at the commentary of the students behind her, but her expression is still quite pained, muttering mostly to herself, "I could likely roast him. Faster than smoking. Likely won't get rid of the taste, though." She winces as she talks, crossing an arm over her chest to hide the burns now becoming apparent on her already deep red skin. << Thomas. I think he's done. Don't kill him - they may have use for the filth yet. >> Her dark eyes narrow on the onionman, lips pulling back in a snarl, forcing herself upright to look menacing once more, if a bit singed, "Don't you dare try anything." She looks up to Thomas's smokey form, reaching out a hand as though to guide him back << You did good. He won't hurt anyone else. >> Alison makes a noise of approval when Sublime goes down, and she uses the wall as a brace to push herself to her feet wearily. Pulling off the mask as the gas dissipates, she clutches it in her hand and nods at Jax's suggestion. "I can help with that, if you want," she offers. "You should be heading to the med bay." She looks down the hall, towards the Rec Room, where Anton pokes his head out long enough to give a thumbs up. She sighs at this, turning back to nod at Lorna. "Sounds like the plan." Flicker just stares at the unconscious body on the floor for a long moment. He ignores the crying man, biting down on his lip. Then resting a hand on Lorna's shoulder. A moment later they vanish. Taking Sublime off with them. For the Professor to deal with. Probably harshly.