ArchivedLogs:Armed Teachers

Armed Teachers
Dramatis Personae Jax, Joshua, Matt	2018-02-21 (CW: active shooters, gunfire, blood.) << Joshua, you're going to need to hurry. >>
Location <XS> Foyer
Xavier's foyer provides a suitable introduction to the opulent mansion. Teak-paneled, wood floors immaculately polished, vaulted ceiling ribbed with dark wood boning, there is no doubt this school was built with no expense spared. The hallways branch off to the separate wings, with the grand staircase spiraling upwards to the residential dorms above. Outside it is rainy and warm, like a late spring day unceremoniously transplanted into February. In here, that just translates into damp shoes and slicker-than-usual floors. Class has just let out and students have flooded into the hallways, gathering in small knots to chat or locomoting (in various fashions) at high speeds. The familiar chaos is shattered by the unmistakable sound of automatic gunfire outside on the school grounds. A few shrieks of alarm go up and a few students disappear (literally or figuratively), but many of them just freeze and look to each other or their phones. Matt has just emerged from the elevator, in a pale orchid dress shirt, black vest, and gray slacks; he is also looking at his phone, frowning. Like every other phone in the room, his shows no emergency alert, and, even more worrying, no local network. "/Ostie/..." comes out low and breathy, more like a hiss than an oath. He wades out into the foyer and starts tapping students on the shoulders and arms as he passes. "The phones are down, just go. Run and barricade, just like we practiced. /Go!/" He does not shout, but the controlled tension in his voice carries in the sudden quiet. The young people start moving--in a remarkably orderly manner--deeper into the building. Whatever he says next is drowned out by another burst of gunfire, much closer to the building this time, followed by a terrified scream from outside. The evacuation becomes abruptly less ordered, panicked students fleeing in every direction away from the front door. There is a temporary burst of chaos from upstairs, students just emerging from classes -- perhaps starting to head downstairs for next period or perhaps drawn to gawking by the noise. It's a familiar -- if strained -- drawl that recalls the onlookers, ushering the students on the upper landing further back into the building. Jax (dressed not very much like winter in bright purple UFO capri pants, a lime green tank top under a silvery-black mesh tee) doesn't follow, trotting down a few steps to peer towards one large picture window looking out to the grounds. A faint iridescent glimmer wraps itself into place across the front walls and windows of the mansion. "I don't --" "-- There's at least four of them out front." Amid the sudden chaos, Joshua looks oddly calm when he appears in the middle of the foyer. There's a light shimmer of raindrops, just barely misted into Joshua's shaggy dark hair. A small spattering only just dusted across his shoulders. "Not sure about the back. There'll --" "-- be a class in the conservatory." Jax runs his fingers through his hair, teeth sinking down against his lip. "Were any students out front?" Joshua's brows furrow, his attention stretching out past the door. "I'm sure I could get out there and back real quick..." Quiet, a little distracted. Jax opens his mouth to reply. Closes it again, fingers balling into a fist as he tears his gaze away from the window to look down to Matt. As if by way of an answer, the floor rumbles ominously beneath their feet, rattling the glass in the windows. A cry of pain, faint by comparison after the booming gunfire, rises in tandem with the shaking. Another gunshot -- just one this time -- is directed at the window nearest Jax, the bullet skipping harmlessly off the shimmering forcefield there. As he hurries the last of the students out of the foyer Matt's powers expand outward, augmenting his teammates', but he quite abruptly withdraws it again. "Sophia is outside," he says, staring at the front door as though he might see through its heavy wood. A small flinch at the shaking. "Someone else, too--probably hurt." His powers reach out again, more selectively this time, coiling with easy familiarity around Jax and Joshua, bolstering theirs considerably. "Joshua, you can see them, no? Depending on where the shooters are, either we neutralize them, or reposition the shield between them and the students." There's another beat -- Joshua is still looking at Jax here for a moment before he turns to Matt instead. "{Right,}" muttered kind of under his breath, "Aaron's outside, he's been shot. I --" His hesitation is longer. Jaw tightening, shoulders tensing. "-- Could grab him. If Jax gave me some cover, yeah." An image blossoms in Matt and Jax's minds, visualizing the scene outside -- Sophia hiding behind one of the porch columns, Aaron bleeding but alive on the ground at the foot of the stairs, the shooters a bit farther off -- some with a clear line of sight to Aaron, though they aren't taking any further shots at the injured teen. Jax closes his eye, reaching out -- aided by the boost from Matt, the image from Joshua -- to feel out the /shape/ of the world outside. Gathers his energy a moment, before the shimmer drops from the walls around them. A short moment later, a bubble sprouts around the school in its entirety -- just far enough out to place its translucent dome past where the teenagers remain outside, a glimmering wall between them and the assailants. "You're good," he tells Joshua, eye opening again. Joshua doesn't wait. Vanishes, reappears by Aaron's side to crouch down by the wounded student. One of the shooters calls out when the shield drops, but by the time he pulls the trigger -- prompting two of his fellows to follow suit -- the shimmering field is back up, closer to them but just as impenetrable to the hail of bullets. The terrified students stranded outside are not much reassured, though. Sophia shrieks, trying to flatten herself even lower to the porch. Her clothes hang from her in black and purple tatters, and the floor and column in contact with her look visibly more decrepit than the rest of the structure. Aaron, though weaker, still cries out and tries to curl into a fetal ball. The ground shakes again. He has both hands clamped firmly over a gunshot wound in his thigh which is certainly bleeding, but not profusely enough to indicate a major arterial rupture. He yelps when Joshua appears beside him and attempts to scramble away, which only serves to exacerbate the pain of his injury. The ground around them rumble even harder, and the porch column sheltering Sophia begins to creak ominously. The black SUV that had been waiting in the driveway comes over the curb and starts advancing toward the school, leaving deep treadmarks in the wet grass and tracks of mud on the walkways. Though two people can clearly be seen in its driver and passenger seats, their minds are completely invisible to Joshua. As the vehicle itself nears the shield, however, Joshua does start to feel.../something/. His telepathic sense of the people around him starts flickering in a very disquieting fashion and the other powers at his command surface and submerge unbidden. The ground quakes even harder -- and then eases off almost entirely, Aaron's agonized whimpering suddenly loud as the seismic white noise fades. When Joshua teleports out of his range, Matt shifts even more of his attention to Jax's powers, holding the shield firm and sharpening the photokinetic's second sight. He senses the flaring of Sophia's disintegrative ability even before her screams. "I'm getting Sophia," he tells Jax without turning around, "stay within range of me." Even as he throws open the front door, he reaches out to take hold of Sophia's powers, bolstering the panicked teenager's control and dampening its runaway destructive capability. "C'mon," his voice is gentle but firm as he reaches for the girl. "Joshua's got Aaron, let's get inside." Sophia gives a small start and shrinks away when the door opens, but with Matt suppressing her powers she manages not to dissolve what remains of her clothes. Or the column providing her cover. "Monsieur Tessier!" Fresh tears stream from her huge, dark eyes, and she takes his outstretched hand with a cringe, like someone expecting an electrical shock. The black SUV pulls up just short of the glimmering shield. To Matt's senses, the unique signatures of the other mutants nearby are fading in and out -- especially Joshua and Aaron, who, from his position at the edge of the porch, /should/ be within his range again -- making it nearly impossible to influence their powers in any direction. Sophia's hand in his suddenly /hurts/ him, a clawing, wrenching agony. The first clue Jax has that anything has gone amiss is the abrupt absence of Matt's augmentation. "Hey, Aaron." Joshua doesn't move from his crouching position when Aaron scrambles back, arms slung loose across his knees, his back to the shooters and the lurking SUV. His voice is steady, if firm. "Jax has us covered, alright? I just want to get you back inside where we can take care of that properly." He nods towards Aaron's leg, holds a hand out to the teenager. There's a subtle flutter of calm that washes out, soothing the nerves of the frightened teenagers. Jax trots further down the stairs, lingering in the foyer as Matt goes to the door. He glances out through the opened door, brow furrowing as he catches a glimpse of the SUV beyond the shield -- momentarily sizing it up, a flicker of coiling power gathering within him -- but he holds off, focusing his energy instead on keeping the shield up. Which, abruptly, has grown considerably more taxing -- his hands ball into fists, his eye darting to Matt with a sudden flare of mingled annoyance and concern. << Joshua, >> has a distinct edge of strain to it, << you're going to need to hurry. >> Matt cries out, as much in surprise and confusion as in pain and, stumbling, almost loses his footing. The mis-step helps yank his hand from Sophia's grasp, though, and he pushes her--with the clothed part of his forearm--back inside, but does not follow. "Something is dampening my powers," his voice is strained, likewise the thoughts ghosting beneath the words, "I cannot localize it, but--" His eyes skip to the SUV idling on the other side of Jax's shield even as his powers stretch out again to his teammates, his teeth gritting in fierce concentration as he attempts to resume bolstering theirs. Aaron relaxes a little at the words and the psionic calm. Still, when he nods, it's a somewhat frantic gesture. He wrenches one of his hands from the wound on his leg and places it, bloody and shaking violently, into Joshua's. To Joshua, the thoughts around him are fading out even more, and his teammates’ thoughts come through slightly disjointed. So, too, does the lead shooter's when his earpiece comes to life and starts giving him instructions. What's less ambiguous is the man yelling "Alright boys, fire!" right before all four men start pouring 3-shot bursts into the shimmering barrier, directly at Joshua and Aaron. Even less ambiguous: his powers suddenly cranking all the way back up -- and then well beyond their accustomed intensity. Jax feels the spike in his powers far less dramatically, although it is still a far cry from Matt's usual finesse. Sophia staggers through the door and toward him, but scrupulously keeps her distance, still weeping quite freely and looking at a complete loss about what to do with herself. Jax's eye widens. There's a brighter flare of light within him, fierce and hot and luminous all through his skin in somewhat painful-to-look-at radiance. The shield surrounding the building remains very solidly in place. Jax is less firm in his stance, half crumpling to the side to lean against a wall -- at least until it starts smoking beneath him. He starts back upright, takes a few steps nearer the door. "Sophia, honey-honey, you want to get a little --" This is interrupted by a sudden wrenching. Jerking, tearing, control wrested in a brute-force exertion away from Jax. It /feels/ a lot like Matt here, too -- -- likely because it /is/, Matt experiencing a similar abrupt seizing as /his/ powers are yanked with a lot of force and very little delicacy, stolen from him to hijack Jax's in turn. The shield balloons outward, slamming -- hard -- into the men who stand beyond it, into the SUV, pushing into and past them before fizzling out. Joshua has crumpled, meanwhile, further into a ball, head toward his knees, hands pressed up by his temples. His sudden hold on Matt's powers has gone as quickly as it came -- though in its place there's something else, sunk into the other man and twisting hard. The ground has started rattling again, more forcefully than Aaron's initial tremors. Sophia squeaks in alarm, taking a hesitant step back from the photokinetic and shielding her eyes from his light. Without Joshua's steadying, Aaron topples back over with a yelp of pain. He rights himself part-way and rolls toward Joshua. "Oh shit, Joshua? Are you -- Mister Jax, Mister Tessier? Help!" The abrupt expansion of Jax's shield knocks all four shooters off their feet, and none of them seem quite able to get back up, sprawled in the wet grass moaning. The impact also crumples the fender of the SUV and shatters its windshield, jarring the vehicle back almost a foot. Matt staggers when his powers are hijacked, reaching out to steady himself against the column that had sheltered Sophia and missing. He squeezes his eyes shut and struggles to wrest back control, to no avail. His breath hitches with the whip-lash return of his powers; his balance fails him altogether and he tumbles down the porch steps to end in a heap on the damp walkway. He turns his head far enough to see where Aaron and Joshua lie; blood seeps from a shallow scrape along his left temple. "Cere, end simulation," he finally manages, hoarse and quiet, "end simulation!" His powers stretch out, fighting both the strange interference and the haze of pain in a desperate, clumsy attempt to take control of Joshua's again. As the school and the shooters and the students fade away, the Danger Room is returned to relative quiet. Relative -- there's still a distinct rumbling, the lingering tremors around them very much real. Joshua remains hunched over, echoes of pain sent out toward the others in sensible but slowly fading psionic ripples. Jax's glow remains as well. Bright and radiating a still-intense heat. With the simulation ended he's left in his uniform, jacket half-zipped. "Joshua --" Teeth gritted, he hurries to the other man's side, dropping to his knees. One hand reaches tentatively for Joshua's back -- not quite touching. Joshua's shoulders relax. He slumps slightly sideways into Jax's touch, heedless of any lingering heat as he rests up against the other man's side. "{Sorry, that was --}" His words come out slow, dragging. Head shaking slightly as he takes a breath. It's something reflexive that spasms inside him, though, recoiling from the control Matt extends and lashing out again. This time whatever clenches, torques inside Matt can be felt on multiple levels -- jangling hard at Matt's mutation but, as well, sending a wave of nausea and pain through him. Matt starts to rise, slowly propping himself up on elbows and knees. With the Danger Room's psionically simulated power suppression gone, his abilities thread into Joshua's with renewed vigor, shutting them down. Or /trying/ to, at least. The reflexive retaliation from Joshua wrenches a muffled groan from him and he collapses again, losing his focus in a fit of dry-retching. << {Joshua! That--/that/ is Gae's...ability.} >> He collects himself, concentrating, and finally insinuates his control with some semblance of his usual delicacy bent toward coaxing down both the quaking and the nameless power twisting within himself. << {Doesn't seem to like you much.} >> In Matt's head Joshua's voice is dry -- though layered beneath that is a heavier current of guilt, concern. A rising stress that he is very consciously pushing back down. Aided now by Matt's steadier touch, he gathers his runaway stable of abilities back into himself -- shedding a few along the way, relaxing further with this lessened weight. "{Kind of fucked that one up.}" His wince is apologetic. Even with this he's reaching out -- directly, through where he leans against Jax, more indirectly with a preliminary mental assessment of Matt -- feeling out his teammates' current state even as he asks somewhat redundantly, "{You all hurt?}" "I'm good." Jax's arm tightens around Joshua's shoulders when the older man leans into him. The glow in him is fading. The heat, too. "Are /you/?" His eye skips from Joshua to Matt, brow knitting. Joshua frowns. Whatever had lashed out from him hasn't quite /withdrawn/, though it isn't twisting so hard either. More cautious, more deliberate, a slow unraveling push -- that nearly immediately pulls back, folding its touch entirely away this time. Joshua's jaw tenses. He extends a hand to Matt in silence. Matt sits up very slowly, maintaining his focus while the pain fades away. << {I can still count on one hand the number of times I've felt it, and on each occasional it has reached for me. Just never quite like /that./} >> Beneath the lingering discomfort is concern for his teammates, guilt over the failure of the training mission, and a related, gnawing worry about his ability to protect the school. Or his friends. Or his family--and, at the moment, especially his youngest brother. "/Kind/ of," he agrees at last, sitting back on his heels, swaying just a little. "{Sorry.} I'm not hurt, though." A tiny trickle of blood rolls down his cheek. "Not /very/ hurt," he allows, reaching up toward the wound but stopping himself short, putting his hand--a bit heavily--into Joshua's instead. "Yourself?" "{Fine.}" Joshua's reply is quick, and quiet. His hand closes around Matt's readily, the same silent sense he had reached out to Jax extending to Matt as well. Searching out injuries -- the small head wound gets closed up with an almost careless flex so that he can focus deeper. Doesn't touch anything else, though. After a considerable stretch of time, he drops his hand, pushes himself slowly to his feet. "We should probably go. We could all do with some sleep before we even think about trying that again."