ArchivedLogs:Condition Green

Condition Green
Super Green
Dramatis Personae Goblin, Jennifer, Kurt Wagner 1.0, Norman, Rasa, Scott Summers, NPC-Shaw
In Absentia	2013-05-13 Rasa confronts Norman on Peter's disappearance and Goblin makes a new friend, then all hell breaks loose.
Location <NYC> Oscorp Tower - Midtown
OSCORP TOWER. It's... big. And currently, in the very earliest hours of Monday morning, /quite/ bustling; there's a number of people running up the stairs and passing through those sparkling panes of revolving glass. Among them - flanked on one side by a bald-headed man in a black coat and a grim face - is Norman FRIGGING Osborn. Returning, apparently, after a weekend trip in places better left undescribed. Norman Osborn is dressed as he always is: Black coat. Black slacks. Black shoes. Black tie. White, crisp shirt. And that remarkably /ridiculous/ red hair, rumpled into a widow's peak. He seems well-rested, although there's a certain - irritability to the way he carries himself. And that briefcase. His conversation with Shaw is -- brief, hard to pick out. Something about /statues/, who the hell builds statues of /themselves/-- Rasa is out eaaarly for once, having spent the weekend in the city, carrying with hir a bag that looks a bit like luggage. Ze is standing over by the smokers, not really paying much attention to the cigarette perched between hir fingers, letting it burn without pulling at it much. Ze is dressed in light weight cotton pants, probably hir pajamas, and a long sleeved shirt, jacket over the top. There's a black scarf around hir neck that /technically/ is her hijab, but when not obscuring hir features, it's very much scarf like. Hir feet are in flip flops. The only thing that would differentiate this kid from all the others is the mild gold metallic hue to hir skin. Could be make up though. Upon seeing Norman FRIGGING Osborn, ze stamps out hir cigarette and grabs hir bag and trots over quickly. "Mr. Osborn. Mr. Osborn. I need to ask you a question. It's kind of important, if you have a second." Ze is insistant, but skirting just out of arm's reach of Mr. Shaw. At which point, Mr. Shaw proceeds to make himself known. He is suddenly /in/ Rasa's way, standing firmly between Rasa and Mr. Osborn; a man like a rock, with a glare that's capable of making dandelions wilt at thirty paces. His hand is out, palm flat and extended toward Rasa - not making contact, but making it clear that any attempt to get closer will /result/ in contact. Mr. Shaw's other hand? It's slipping underneath his coat in a gesture that's probably easily translatable as 'reaching for my hidden gun'. Behind him, Norman Osborn just /groans/. "Not right now," he replies - but it isn't to Rasa. It's to Shaw. "I just got off that bloody plane, I don't have the /endurance/ for this nonsense. Shaw--" "Mr. Osborn is not available at the moment. If you'd like to speak with him, please schedule an appointment with his secretary," Mr. Shaw tells Rasa. The response - it's automatic. Something he's said thousands of times - if not more. "It's about Peter Parker." Rasa lets them awalk away, hir eyes narrowing. "I know you know him." And that's it. Ze stands there looking small, strange and glarey in hir oversized jacket. Mr. Shaw does not, apparently, know Peter Parker. His posture does not change one inch; if anything, he looks like he's about to move toward Rasa and give hir a rough /shove/ backwards. But... Norman Osborn /does/, apparently, know Peter Parker. His baack - previously hunched - suddenly stiffens, /straightens/. Norman turns - /peering/ at Rasa. For what is probably the first time. And then... *CLOMP*. That's the sound of Norman's large, meaty palm descending atop of Mr. Shaw's shoulder. /Squeezing/. It's followed by one of Norman Osborn's award-winning smiles, dazzling and penetrating, straight down at Rasa. OH HELLO. "Mr. Shaw. Nix what I just said. This must be - one of Parker's friends. I'm /always/ willing to make time for Mr. Parker's friends." Reluctantly - VERY reluctantly - Mr. Shaw shifts, stepping aside. Making room for Norman Osborn to move forward, toward Rasa. Extending a hand out toward hir. "Norman Osborn," he says. "Who, might I ask, are /you/?" "Rasa," Ze admits politely and succinctly. Despite Norman's award winning smile, ze remains prepared as if ready to receive some sort of blow. When Osborn extends a hand, ze looks around quickly, taking in who might see, then reaches out one of hir own, ungloved!, and takes it. In the time it takes Rasa to say, "Peter is missing, do you know anything about it?" the telepathic metamorph is slipping into the other man's mind, looking for everything that pings on the subject of 'Peter' and 'Missing.' Ze also quickly grows into a new Norman, looking very ridiculous in those pants, but filling out the top and the jacket nicely. Peter. Missing. Two words; two /concepts/. With them are carried thoughts - contemplations. Norman, being informed by his people that Parker has been reported missing. Norman, having all news concerning sudden disappearances routed to his office. Norman, sending out feelers - investigators - to find out more. Quietly. /Subtly/. So many possibilities, and Norman has contemplated them all. Prometheus? Yes, a definite possibility. Labs. Knives. Experiments. /Dissections/. Norman is familiar with their methods; this doesn't /seem/ like it. They do not kidnap - people with /families/. People for whom others would /look/. But there is still a chance. Here, Norman seethes; his contacts with Prometheus have evaporated; his bridges burned. No opportunity to /ask/ there. A flicker of a woman - her name too fuzzy to make out - who would rather see him /dead/ than help him. Other possibilities, that Norman's been contemplating. All of them fuzzy. People kidnapping mutants for - a variety of purposes. Some of them bizarrely perverse. Or perhaps Parker's just gotten himself involved in more than he can handle...? Have dangerous men dropped him in the bay with a pair of fresh concrete shoes? Despite himself, the thought makes Norman Osborn warm and fuzzy. ...there's something else, though. When Rasa starts to turn into Norman Osborn. That's not /all/ ze's turning into. There's something /else/ in Norman's head, and as Rasa copies his underlying physiology, that something /else/ stirs to life - greedy, yellow eyes popping open - and /lunges/ forward. As if to say MINEMINEMINEMINEMINE. Swimming up, /swallowing/ anything it can; attempting to shove itself in the way of Rasa's transformation. Attempting to make Rasa transform not into Norman Osborn - but something /greener/. Something greener, and hungrier, with a mind like BLOOD-HUNGRY RAZORS. In the real world, Norman Osborn's eyes pop open wide - a brief expression of shock - as he steps back. Shaw has already drawn his gun, but Norman is already reaching to /grab/ Shaw's wrist and pull the gun down: "YOUR COAT. NOW. ON HER." There's something wonderful about a panic button, in that it very much is a button, and when gripped tightly as things begin to go OH SO VERY WRONG, it sends out a text with an alert to all Xavier affliates the location and existence of danger to one Rasa Djalili. While the app is meant to take a picture of hir current appearance as well to help said individuals locate hir, all it gets is a green hand in a pocket. The drive of MineMINE MINE MINEMINEMINEMINE echos through out hir mind, paintes itself in neon green words across hir face and changes hir entire physiology, the gaping maul, the yellow eyes, the change in posture and stature, the guttural growl of amusement starting to bubble forth from the newly formed throat, they all begin to blossom on the young person before Osborn and Shaw. When Osborn pulls away, the connection is broken and RasaGoblin is forced to deal with the input ze collected in a very singular way. Suspicion, anger, frustration, and the primal instinct of being threatened start to take over. Ze hunches low and growls at Shaw, bringing an arm up to block whatever the hell he's trying to do. That bubbling growl; that oh-so-familiar yellow-eyed stare - Norman's own eyes are wide. And then they are narrow. And then, Mr. Shaw's coat is /off/, held in Norman's clutches - and Norman is - /shoving/ him away, back, producing a deep-throated growl of his own: "STAY AWAY." Not to RasaGoblin. No, he's talking to /Shaw/. Who, like any good bodyguard, is slow to follow his client's orders... but inevitably /does/. Stepping back, and behind Norman. Who is now holding a very large, black, wool coat. "/Rasa/." This is Norman Osborn speaking, again. Voice deep. Dark. Penetrating. Holding the coat up. "Rasa, /listen/ to my voice. /CLOSE/ your eyes. Imagine a lake. Cool and placid; its surface unbroken. The yellow eyes are under the lake. Imagine the water rising higher, the pressure /pushing/ the yellow eyes deeper. Down." He is opening the coat. Stepping forward. People are watching; some confused, some backing away. No one is really sure what is going on - is that... is there a green monster? In front of Norman Osborn? He's attempting to bring the coat down, then - slowly, /unthreateningly/, but still nevertheless down - to wrap around RasaGoblin. To hide him. RasaGoblin stares at Norman as if he is speaking some sort of curse in an ancient language, eyes narrowing unhappily at him. There is something about him, some thing about the sound of his voice, the expression on his face, his face by itself - it's almost as if Goblin is seeing it for the first time, in person at least. Nostrils flare as the words begin to echo inside the head of the metamorph, breathing exaggerated, a low hiss underneath it all. Pressure, weight, pushing, all swirls in hir thoughts and causes hir form to lower, as if feeling all of that on hir shoulders in the real world. Long breathes grow longer, the hissing quiets, claws shorten and hands ball into fists instead of tense weapons. Ze is still very much green, hir mouth full of exaggerated canines and sharp pointy teeth, but ze is shrinking, no longer Osborn's or Goblin's height, but not quite hirself yet. Then, there is a coat over hir head. As Rasa shrinks, Norman's voice grows slower, softer - the rapid, frantic rush of his initial words becoming a steady, rhythmatic beat: "Good. The water is rising; the eyes are sinking. Deeper. Down. /Deeper/. The tide is rising. Keep pushing, Rasa. /Deeper/. Until the pressure on those eyes is... until they're collapsing. Down, into a deep, tiny knot. A tiny, black knot..." Norman's left eyebrow twitches. Somewhere in his head, a voice is hammering, screaming, /screeching/ for more. But the coat is tightly wound about Rasa... and his hands descend - carefully - for hir shoulders. If no attack comes, Norman squeezes, before speaking back to Shaw: "Shaw. Lab. /Now/." No sooner has Osborn said this then is Shaw moving forward, toward Oscorp doors, /shoving/ them open. And Norman is - slowly, but /insistently/ - tugging Rasa toward them. Continuing to speak: "Remain calm, Rasa. Keep listening to my voice. I'll need your contact information. Someone to call. Can you give me a phone number to call?" "Phone. pocket. They're coming." Rasa admits, being coaxed slowly, listening to Norman's voice. Hir foot steps are stumbling, but they are moving. The young person may also be leaning into Norman's touch. Ze stiffens at points, almost resisting, but can't quite think straight yet. The red arrow refuses to climb below the legal speed limit. It is stubbornly dead set to remain on the very margin of safety, favouring the side that is disallowed. Occasionally, it just does that - the rider of the green and purple bike allows it well-timed spurs of greater speed. In a way, Jennifer is shooting herself in the foot with the limitations of her own morality, but being stopped by a police officer right now would be even more inconvenient. The helmet she is wearing is concealing an angry frown, while the content roar of her vehicle drowns out her colourful tirade of ceaseless swearing, frustrated promises and shallow threats. The panic button that's been pressed alerted the faculty of a student in danger, and Jennifer wasted absolutely no time in claiming Sam and hitting the road. Informing that she can't make it to class? That comes while she's speeding her way onto the highway. X-Men may or may not be right behind her, but Jennifer cares little for that. She is not a part of them, and as such all she needs is to do is hop on a motorcycle and zoom off. No planning, no coherence or coordination. Only /speed/, and her superbike Samael is more than happy to oblige. Right now, she's not sure who is going to get more hell when she is there - Rasa Djalili or Norman Osborn. The manifestation of said hell is also something she has yet time to mull over. Norman Osborn's lab is - actually there are /several/ labs, one immediately accessible directly beneath the lobby of Oscorp; it's this lab that Rasa has been ushered into. Think of it as - an /emergency/ lab. It's white; pristine and sterile, with plenty of humming computers and disassembled machines - this is more of Norman Osborn's /playground/ than an official lab - a home away from home only accessible via special keycard from the elevator. Special keycard or special /request/; the secretary up front can communicate with Norman in the lab via intercom, and can allow access - which Norman can also circumvent. Rasa would be ushered - quickly, but not /forcefully/ - to one of the chairs near what appears to be... a disassembled murderdrone. Its parts placed out across the table like disassembled Transformer vomit. No sooner is Rasa there then is Norman drawing the coat off - perhaps with a silent, inward hiss - stepping back to a fretting Mr. Shaw. "Mr. Osborn--" "Shut up," Norman tells Shaw, then. And then - he is making a quick call to the secretary upstairs. Notifying them. They're about to have guests. Let them in. When Jennifer arrives, she will be ushered by two security guards who immediately state they are here to take her to Rasa. She will be taken to an elevator, which will be activated by not one, but /two/ key-cards; she will then descend into the bowels of Oscorp Tower, where, upon opening the doors, she will be treated - by the sight of Norman Osborn, sitting calmly at a table with Rasa (RasaGobs?), two cups of coffee set out on the table between them - along with a half-eaten danish. Mr. Shaw, /hovering/ somewhere nearby, just /glaring/ at the two of them. Rasa has already devoured hir danish, mechanically and a bit confused. Ze is still very green, half of hir face still a little Goblinesque, with teeth and a bit of drool, yellow eyes and points to all hir features. The other half is covered in black script, something about a lake, deep and heavy, cool and wet, pressing, pressing, pressing down. Ze seems to be concentrating on breathing, and perhaps a little too dedicated to licking hir fingers clean. Eyes shift quickly between Osborn and Shaw. Even though ze seems to be placid at first glance, ze is ready and tense. It doesn't take too long for the wild-natured redhead to reach the location of where the panic button was pressed. The bike is not parked; it is led inside the lobby, where the secretary is carefully instructed to keep it guarded at any cost necessary. Some legal jargon is bandied about, but more concerning Rasa than her beloved Sam. There is hardly any yelling, but suffice to say Jennifer does not sound pleased. On the way to her destination, Jennifer looks as angry as one might possibly imagine. Patient, but frustrated. Most of that anger dissipates when the sight involving Rasa and Norman unravels before her. Her steps are slow at first, but they speed up gradually. Her mind is clearly trying to figure out what has happened. Mister Shaw, Norman, Rasa - all are eyed equally. The teacher is wearing a pair of jeans, running shoes and a black leather jacket. Beneath the jacket is a surprisingly formal-looking blouse; okay, so she didn't have the time to change properly. "Good morning. Jennifer Walters. /She-Hulk/. This better be a /massive/ misunderstanding, and you can start explaining by saying what's /wrong/ with her," she commands furiously, pointing at Rasa as she marches onwards. Mr. Shaw's hand /immediately/ goes into his coat, gripping the handle of his gun. He likes the gun. He'd like to /use/ the gun, right now. He is clearly more uncomfortable in this situation than Norman Osborn - which is just another first among many firsts going down this morning. When Jennifer enters the room, Norman addresses Rasa first: "Stay focused. I'll speak with her. You're doing /very/ well, Rasa. I'm sure you'll be safe to go home, soon." This actually sounds... /genuine/. Like he's - /proud/ of hir! Then, Norman stands - turning to Jennifer. Holding the coffee in one hand as he approaches, his other hand extending for hers. He is currently wearing - gloves. Fine leather ones. This is new. He put them on a few minutes ago, just in /case/. "Norman Osborn. Ms. Walters, please /stop/ where you are - and listen to me very closely." Norman's voice is even. Calm. And /low/. Soft enough that Rasa might not even hear: "Rasa is in a very precarious state at the moment. Sudden shocks may stimulate another - incident. I'm currently in the process of working with Rasa to reverse the transformation. You need to remain calm. /Everyone/ needs to remain calm." Apparently, something is /very/ funny. It starts off as a quiet giggle, but that giggle grows to a chuckle under hir breath and finally rings out throughout the room in a laugh that causes the young metamorph to shudder in hir seat, the mirth not entirely good natured. Ze turns slowly and grips the arm rests as ze begins to rise, feet touching down on the floor and body lifting off the seat. Hir shoulders remain hunched in a somewhat predatory fashion, the other half of hir face pulling back into a smile. Ze doesn't say anything though, as ze starts to cross the room toward Jennifer. Surprisingly, Jennifer actually stops in front of Norman, even if her gait suggests she would have happily marched further ahead. As such, her steps arrive to a very abrupt halt. Since she can't choke Osborn with her two hands, she hands this particular duty to her green eyes. It's highly likely she is picturing the act in her mind, too. A brief glance is shot towards Mister Shaw, but that's more of a dagger thrown than actual spite. "Sounds like you know a good amount of what's happening to her. What /caused/ this, what is /happening/ to her and--" At this point, Jennifer finds herself interrupting by not-so-distant cackling. The woman's fury is pocketed for the time being, as she instead is distracted by Rasa. When the confused metamorph begins to approach, Jennifer freezes in thought. "Okay," she murmurs, eyeing the teenager. "Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?" "Bad. /Very/ bad." Norman's response is curt and sudden; Rasa's laughter strikes a familiar cord in his brain - and is joined by another, unheard laugh. A laugh that is perhaps just a little more /shrill/ and unhinged. It rings in Norman's mind, but never quite reaches his lips. Thank /goodness/. "Shaw. Gun. /Now/." Hand held out for the firearm. Shaw doesn't hesitate; in an instant, Norman is handed the firearm. And in the next instant, it is - being unloaded. *CLKT*; the clip clatters on the floor, Norman kicks it aside - the bullet is dischambered - and he's handing it right back to Shaw, who is /glaring/ at Norman. "Ms. Walters. Do not let her touch you." Then: "/RASA/. Please, stop walking. If you want to go home, you /need/ to remain calm. You need to sit." "Why should I listen to you, Normie? She's my teacher." Rasa replies giving Osborn a sneer as ze continues chuckling. Hir voice is still very strange, like an adult's vocal chords have been thrust into a smaller person's throat and then mangled into a gravely, tenor pitch. Despite what ze says, ze does stop walking. Arms hang at hir sides loosely and hir shoulders relax, but the sneer remains. "I'm HunGrrry." Three careful steps guide Jennifer backward. "You still owe me an explanation," she suggests to Norman stubbornly, eyeing Rasa with concern replacing frustration in her tone of voice. When Norman asks for the gun, however, Jennifer's attention snaps to the two men. "Aim it at her and I /will/ break your--" Okay, the gun is actually being rendered harmless. "Never mind. Can you tell me /why/ I shouldn't let her touch me?" Her attention returns to Rasa, then. It's clear Jennifer wants to address her, but the nagging question remains - should she? Instead, questions is directed to Norman, even if those emerald eyes are fixated on the teenager-goblin. "What will fix her? And what does she mean by 'hungry'? Somehow, I'm /assuming/ she doesn't mean bacon and eggs." "She's a mimic metamorph, I presume," Norman speaks, his hand reaching out to grab Shaw - PUSH him toward the other side of the lab - and then mutter, in Japanese: "{Third station on the right. Second drawer. Taser. Bring it to me.}" Shaw proceeds to /slink/ off, sparing only a brief /glare/ at Rasa and Jennifer for putting him in this situation. Then, Norman is addressing Jennifer, even as his eyes remain on Rasa: "I don't know much about her - situation. I only know she's mimicked - something she did not intend to mimic. As for 'fixing' her, I believe that is something only Rasa herself may be capable of. Is there someone she cares about deeply? Parents, siblings, partners? Speaking to her about them may help." Now, directly to Rasa: "I understand you are hungry. We can get you something to eat. But you need to stay still. And /sit/, Rasa." One foot steps back, seemingly of its own accord. The other follows, torso lurching back awkwardly as a result. "Bacon and eggs sound sooo goood. As do pigs and chickens and cows and sheep." Hir altered voice sing songs as the backwards shuffle continues, until ze finally ends up sitting when the back of hir knee encounters the seat edge of the chair. Whuummph. "I'm so hungry... i could eat ... you!" Rasa's distorted features shift, the top of hir head clearly settling into something more... hir, green skin, emerald hair, waves and curls framing hir face as they generally do -- but hir mouth becomes very much Goblin's. "/Hey/! English, por favor. Or I'm going to start speaking /my/ language, too." And Jennifer readily displays what that language is with the shake of her fist. It's hard to say whether it's a display of annoyance or an actual show of force, especially considering this is Jennifer. Her anger does diminish when she looks back to Rasa, however. "Touching her might make her mimic /me/. I am not really as dangerous in this state. I am not sure if she can only store one individual at a time." Still, Jennifer opts for the alternative. The three steps she had retreated before are reclaimed, positioning Jennifer slightly farther again. Having considered Norman's advice, the teacher speaks softly, addressing the poor teen, "Rasa. Look at yourself. /Look/." Okay, so perhaps that advice isn't followed to the letter. "Look at your hands. Look at them and think on what would be going through Ivan's mind if he saw you like this. That timid boy is willing to punch complete strangers for you. Sure, he's a reckless little nut, but he's an adorable little nut, too. Imagine him here, right next to me, looking at you, seeing you like /that/. Tell me what he would feel." A brief glance is given to Norman, almost as if to ask, 'Am I doing good?' Skeezy Shaw returns after just a moment of clunking with - something sleek and black and /dangerous/ looking. It's kept under his coat, just out of sight; the taser is surreptiously passed to Norman - who takes it wordlessly, sliding it within his pocket. Just in /case/. But it doesn't look like he'll be needing it - when Rasa drops down to hir seat, Norman nods - not moving closer - just holding his position. "Good, Rasa," he tells hir. "We'll get you something to eat. Bacon. Eggs. Chicken, if you'd like." He does not make mention of /people/. When Jennifer mentions - Rasa /looking/ at hirself - and Ivan's response - Norman makes a little /hissing/ sound. Very tiny, but obvious displeasure. It's followed by a quick, harsh whisper: "Don't /scare/ her. Fear just makes him /hungrier/." Wait, /him/? "Get her to focus on --" Then, to Rasa, voice louder: "Rasa, tell us about Ivan." As if he's /interrupting/ Jennifer's question, pushing it aside with his own. "Is he..." Nose scrunching, as if this next bit causes Norman physical /pain/ to ask: "...'cute'?" Yes. 'Cute'. That's what girls these days are into, yes? 'Cute' boys. "Ivan... his eyes. Oh, his eyes are so large and round and dark and beautiful." Rasa replies, hir smile spreading. "Such wonderful EYES." "..." Norman pulls the taser out of his pocket. And takes aim. As tempted as Jennifer is to comment on the weapon Norman has acquired, she also realises that it might just come to that. Even if the teacher is yet to determine what /it/ is. "Look, are you going to let me /try/ to unfuck whatever it is you did, or are you going to--" The question is interrupted by Rasa. The taser that's being pulled has Jennifer react immediately. She steps forward and attempts to grip Norman's wrist, aiming to twist it to sprain it and force it to lose the weapon. "Nngh." Norman's wrist is seized; the taser drops with a solid *CLKT* to the floor. And for a moment - oHO, what do we have HERE - Norman's eyes /bulge/. Brighten. YELLOWIFY. It is a glimpse, however short, of something else going on here - egg-yellow without iris, without white - just /FLASHING/ like a traffic light at Jennifer. But, perhaps to her surprise, he doesn't resist - instead, just stumbling backward, /clutching/ at his arm as he - hisses. Almost snarls. "Talk to her. About something. /NOT/ eyes," he snarlgrowls, now. Mr. Shaw is - stepping forward. Clutching his gun. Maybe trying to decide whether or not he's going to have to use it to /pistolwhip/ somebody. "I wouldn't attack him if I were you," Rasa speaks up again, amused. She chuckles and pulls hir legs up to hir chest. "Ivan is so sweet. And nice. and I'm not telling you anything else because he's too nice to be around you." Hir head lolls back tiredly as ze stares at the ceiling for once, deep breaths. "Quick! Normie! Think of a lake. A big, deep, calm lake, and think about the weight of the water, let it push, push, push you down." Jennifer sneers as she is flashed with yellow eyes. It doesn't take a tremendous amount of effort to string two and two together. "I have /had/ it!" The leather jacket is hurriedly taken off and tossed to the ground. At the same time, that blouse shreds somewhat, revealing a white and purple stretchy fabric beneath. Similarly, the jeans tear here and there, but continue hugging her now green legs. Shulkie points at Shaw, first. "Shoot or attack /anyone/ here and you'll be having lunch with your feet." The seven feet amazon directs her full attention to Rasa, then. "/Rasa Djalili/. Ivan has been /kidnapped/, and /this/ is how you behave? You run off on your own, without informing anyone, to meet /this/ guy? What do you have to /say/ for yourself?" "Ohshit," Shaw says, stepping /way/ back as Jennifer /swells/ into something - green. "Boss, you don't /pay/ me enough to handle /three/ of--" "Remain calm," Norman states, stepping back - hissing out his breath with a steady wheeze. /Stumbling/ away. The flash of yellow eyes has been suppressed. For the moment. Rasa's words - /might/ be helping. It is obvious that Norman is, in fact, fighting for control; his breath is slow, /hard/, hissed through his teeth. "Ms. Walters' current 'color' is merely a coincidental affectation of her mutation. Ms. Walters, we are... fighting for... nngh. Ms. /Walters/." Eyes closing now. Shoving himself against the wall of the elevator. /Hard/. His hand drifting down to his sprained wrist - PULLING at it. As if to inflict pain on himself. Maybe he's a masochist. Or maybe the pain helps him focus. "/SHAW/. Get the fuck /out/ out of this room." Mr. Shaw does not need to be told twice. In an instant, he is in the elevator. Doors closing on him. Rasa's gaze LOCKS DOWN on She-Hulk as she manifests, eyes yellowing over once again. "HE'S MINE." Ze gets to hir feet, beginning to grow once more, possibly in the face of challenge, perhaps in reaction to the news that Jennifer brings, but definitely turning back in to the Goblin. "And NO ONE ELSE can have him." There's no humor left in hir anger, a darker hue starting to take hold, green, but something closer to seaweed instead of the Goblin's more limy appearance. "And Peter's mine. And Shane... and Sebastian and you never UNDERSTAND." Rasa snarls as ze stalks in a circular fashion around the She-Hulk. "Gotta protect the little children," ze mocks, hir tone rising, singsongy again. "But you /can't/, can you?" "If I am not going to calm you two down, I'm going to /wear/ you down. Whatever comes first." Yes, /two/. Jennifer positions herself so that one side faces Rasa, while another faces Norman. Trying to equally divide her attention between both potential threats, Jennifer tears her blouse off and begins to wrap it around her right arm, binding her digits together and then working her way up, effectively sheathing her skin on that arm. But as Rasa begins to stalk her, that's when Norman is paid less mind. "Yours, huh? You have a funny way of showing it. Ivan isn't yours. He isn't anyone's, but if he had to choose to belong to anyone, it would be Rasa. He likes Rasa because she is /strong/. Whoever-- Whatever you are, you are not strong. And in the end, Rasa will /win/." "Wear us -- /wear/ us down -- hee, hee," and now there is /giggling/ from behind Jennifer, giggling that sounds shrill and pitched and /delighted/, but the giggling is soon swallowed, /engulfed/ by the dark, commanding voice of Norman Osborn - as he tugs and /yanks/ on his injured arm. Blinding, piercing pain... and Norman, sweating and grunting, is standing straight - Norman Osborn is /not/ turning green. Norman Osborn's ambergold eyes have returned. And his voice, dark and rough, rises from behind Jennifer: "...the taser, Ms. Walters." Rasa begins giggling again, partially in response to the laughter issued forth from Norman's corner (it miiight be how they communicate), and partially in response to Shulkie's words. "What do you think you're talking to? I /AM/ Rasa. I'm just... freee." When Norman starts talking normal again, the baby Goblin bounds across the room toward him, looking to stare him down. "Who are we tazing, Normie. You? Or mE?" Hearing the giggling behind her, Jennifer scoffs, brimming with annoyance. "How do I always manage to get myself into such a mess?" She watches Rasa vigorously move over to Norman. "Why couldn't I have been a shrink instead of a lawyer?" Considering her next course of action, She-Hulk looks down to the taser gun at her feet. Picking it up with her unshielded hand, she begins to walk towards the pair. "It kind of sucks to tase the only guy who knows what's going on, but-- I give up." She actually has to come rather close, considering her experience with weaponry and aiming is non-existent. Once close enough, she lifts up the gun and aims it at Norman. No time wasted. Click. "Wait -- what -- n--" Zzzzzt. Taser. Norman's whole body goes rigid; eyes /bulge/ brightly. And then, go bright, /vivid/ yellow. And... as he writhes, twists, and /spasms/ in convulsions, falling to the floor... he shows signs of swelling. Just a few moments ago, Jennifer swelled from an athletic lawyer into a 7 foot tall green Amazoness. Now, before her very eyes, Norman Osborn - well-cut businessman and CEO of Oscorp - proceeds to swell into something... /bigger/. Much bigger. And much more... TOOTHY. The business outfit makes a rrrrrrripping sound. /Spikes/ spear out from Osborn's arched back; long lances of wickedly barbed bone. His nose - extending, crooked and long. His hands - into talon-like /claws/. His mouth - like a platter of /steak-knives/. And all the while, clutching at his head, trying to hold hold himself down, he is shrieking to them: "OUT OUT OUT GET OUT OUT OUT OUT GRAB HER GET /OUT/!" Rasa studies the transformation that Norman goes through and turns back to eye Jennifer for a moment. Finally, with a grunt of distaste, ze turns on Jennifer. "Go, go, go go go." Ze melts back into the form that the She-Hulk will recognize. "Go, Gone, Out. Go." Ze is reaching for the woman, intent on pushing her toward the elevator. "Push the button. I may be mad at you, but I'm not getting you eaten." If Jennifer doesn't reach for the button herself, Rasa will. The taser is casually tossed aside. "Oh, /great/." With her hands no longer occupied, Shulkie stands before the emergence of The Goblin and, well-- She begins to clap. It is a slow sarcastic clap. "Good job. Good. /Job/." Before deciding on her next course of action, Jen actually takes a look at Rasa, first. When the teen spurs her on, Jennifer doesn't need to be told twice. The elevator button is indeed pressed by the teacher. "Really? I needed to tase him to bring you back? This game is /rigged/", she complains. Rather than the one being pushed back into the lift, however, she would grab Rasa by the scruff of her clothing, being the one to do the shoving. To be fair, the other way around would be rather difficult, if not impossible. "/You/? Mad at /me/? That's rich. Rasa, try my patience one more time, and I'll /leave/ you here." Before she steps into the left, Shulkie quickly looks around, searching for /something/. Ultimately, she steps into the lift and slams against the button that leads to the lobby. Needless to say, she can control her strength, so that slam doesn't destroy the panel. Her eyes are set on the changed Norman Osborn. "This is unfair. I should help him change back." Yet the doors begin to close with finality. "Nnrrgh. NNRRRGH. /NRRGH/." Crackle-pop-crackle. Norman's eyes /bulge/; pure yellow. His body /expands/; the suit is being torn apart. Are those... yes those are /tentacles/ coming out of his back. Squid tentacles. That end in - mouths. Full of knife-like teeth. Horrible, horrible knife-like teeth. The sort of thing you'd pull out from the bottom of the Mariana Trench. The sort of thing that lives in cold, utter darkness, /feasting/ on whatever poor morsels happen to wander too close to the ocean's eternally silent floor. And there's... more. More mouths. Opening across his skin. Full of teeth. Of curving, squid-like tongues. With suckers. And those /talons/, good /grief/. Yellow, cruelly barbed, no longer scratching at his head - now, moving to the ground. /Squealing/ against linoleum. Long, curling strips of the stuff /gouged/ out, leaving deep channels beneath his fingertips. His face locking into a squealing grin. "Rrr-rrrunnnhh... rrrrnnh..." And then, a wheezy, happy, cheerful little /giggle/. The door 'dings', right before opening - exposing the interior of a safe, warm, pleasant looking elevator. Behind them? Norman Osborn begins to get to his feet. Except... /not/. Norman Osborn isn't home anymore. But if you'd like to leave a message... "You. Help him? Are you stupid? You were the aggressor. You were the one he couldn't control. You want to leave me here, fine." Rasa keeps hir eyes on the Goblin as he starts to speak. Those eyes widen before the teen turns entirely obsidian black. Shuffled back into the elevator, ze considers for a moment, all of hir clothes hanging loosely around hir small frame. "Some how -- I don't think you'd leave and that would make things worse." Ze takes a few deep breathes and eyes the creature coming for them once more, transforming again, just hir face, to mimic Goblin's shape and eye color. "MINE." "I was the /aggressor/, which makes me directly responsible! Does the word /responsibility/ ring a bell at all? And I wouldn't leave you here even if I had to give up my life to make sure you got out, you silly girl! Must you take /everything/ I say literally?" Catching a glimpse of the monster that comes into view, Shulkie's confidence wanes a bit. Uh-oh. The doors close. The lift budges upwards. Jennifer, who still clings onto her mutant form, turns to face Rasa. "Knock that off," she demands, as if it were that simple. "Is your mimicry temporary? Or did you get whatever it is he has for good?" A quick glance is given to the doors. "God, I hope we're not going to have a movie moment here." "You mean the movie moment when he tears off the bottom cables of the elevator and we scream?" Rasa asks, turning yellow eyes on hir teacher. Hir face shifts back to normal, except for those eyes. "We should still be hoping to leave. Look, I'm sorry. New telepathic information takes a while to process and his mind was so... raw. I got overwhelmed. Yes, I can still feel him inside... and I'm still hungry." The thing that was once Norman wastes no time. It leaps from its spot in long but /heavy/ strides, plethora of mouths opening and SNAPPING on each downward bound. Thennnn... movie-moment, GO. THDCLANK! Creeeeaaak. -- the doors Jennifer and Rasa disappeared behind BULGE inward, scraping againt metal parts inside. It isn't long before a cacophony of noises joins the first, CLAWING and SNAPPING and THRASHING against those doors until, mere moments later, suddenly it stops. For a moment, there is silence. "I was thinking more along the lines of it rushing the doo--" The seven foot tall amazonian crouches spreads her feet and crouches down, as though ready to tackle any bastard that is going to get through the doors. Despite the deformities they succumb to, the lift begins its ascend, and silence engulfs the cabin. "Get in that far away corner." The lift may be fast, but Shulkie isn't going to take any chances. She looks for any hatch, and if there isn't one, she is going to damn make one - with her /fist/. Slamwhop, and there's now an opening. "If it's getting in or if it stops the lift, that's where you're going. Let's save the apologies for when we get out of here, okay?" Above grounds, Oscorp tower looks - a little weathered. Something seems to be going /on/; there's a mass of people suddenly /rushing/ out of the doors - amidst a dull little buzzing siren - along with security guards ushering people out the front. As they leave, there are a set of notably /large/ stainless steel gates rolling down from above to lock off access - segmented plates, blocking off anyone from seeing /anything/ going on inside of the building. /Inside/ the building itself, the lobby is large - massive, actually - with a lovely marble floor, extending up three stories, with escalators extending up to the second and third floors - all currently empty. The secretary is no longer at her desk; there /is/ a motorcycle perched somewhere near the exits, though. There is also Mr. Shaw - a bald-headed man in a black coat, currently armed with a shotgun and radio - the latter brought up to his lips. Speaking, as he turns to the lift that leads out of Oscorp's lower labs: "Team three, get in position. Waiting to confirm if we're dealing with Situation Green." The shotgun is - leveled at the doors. Mr. Shaw's shotgun looks - /unusual/. It looks like a tazer made sweet love to an automatic shotgun and weaned the union of their forbidden romance on a diet of steroids. It's got a /battery/ pack loaded underneath it. Rasa moves into the corner of the elevator and stares. "You work on securing a way out. I'll see if I can distract him - if it comes to that. I'm not staying behind, but if there's no where to run, I can't run." Ze is staring at the bulge, then down at hir feet, waiting for something terrible to happen. It's at this juncture that Scott and Kurt arrive via a single Italian motorbike, a black Ducati Streetfighter that rides like a monster and burns gas like one too. The ride was a little awkward, the wind whipping at both of them, but just as soon as they ride up to the front lobby from where they got the communicator relay, Scott kicks the stand and hops off the bike with Kurt, wearing his trademark visor and brown bomber jacket with jeans. People are scattering around them, flowing out from the building. The air of tension and worry is high. Steel gates are closing in front of them - there's no doubt about it, that lobby is the closest to the signal we've got. Summers gives a glance at those closing steel panels, reaching up and turning the dial on his visor - he's got to go manual, there was no time for the gloves. "Nightcrawler..." he trails off meaningfully, his voice rising slightly in pitch towards the end. It's either Kurt's way or Scott's way. Scott's way involves collateral. Nightcrawler's attire does nothing to hide his appearance from the world--which isn't going to help peoples' sense of tension. He is completely inappropriately dressed for such an occasion, being /shoeless/ and in dress slacks with a button down shirt and a red vest. Hey, it's Sunday. They're Church clothes. Still, the expression on the elf's face is one of determination, not fear, and at the sound of his name his eyes snap to the closing steel panels, and abruptly he understands the problem. "Hold your breath." He tells Scott, reaching out with one hand to make contact on Cyclops' shoulder... ...And the world dissolves into smoke and brimstone for Scott. There's no up, no down, just an endless dizzy vertigo and the sensasion of /falling/, falling way too /fast/, no way to stop himself, until just as abruptly everything makes a sudden ninety-degree angle turn... ...And somehow Scott is still on his feet, in the wake of a clearing BAMF cloud, inside the lobby. Kurt releases his shoulder and immediately drops to a ready crouch. "Courtesy the Nightcrawler Express." The silence from below the elevator, as it rises past the lab's doors, is not broken with simple, brutish abandon -- it's slowly whittled away, as noises bubble upward. A cascading, steady stream of sharp breaths and giggles, coming not from one mouth but /several/, overlapping monstrously in a chaotic mess of burbled cheer. "I'M--" Something's in the elevator shaft, shrill and sounding an awfully cheery sort of shade of murderous. And rising with that elevator: Kaclink, kaclink. /Something's/ grabbed onto, down there. "--NNnonooOOOOt--" KaCLINK, KACLINK, "--DONE WITH YOU YET!" "Stay in position--" Shaw begins, /just/ as - in front of him - the elevator produces a tell-tale DING, arriving at the ground floor lobby. It is in this instant that three things happen: Shaw flicks the safety off his unusual ELECTRO-SHOTGUN, which produces a very threatening whine-purr. There is a sudden and unusual /BAMF/ from directly /behind/ Shaw. And finally, Shaw proceeds to turn - swinging that shotgun with him - pointing it /directly/ at the chest of Scott Summers (and, indirectly, at Kurt). "Wha--WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU GET ON THE FUCKING /GROUND/," Shaw proceeds to roar. Jennifer's response arrives with a chuckle that sounds almost dismissive. "You are /not/ distracting it," she states, momentarily daring to look away from the doors. "I want you as safe as safe can be. I don't doubt your abilities, Rasa, but this isn't exactly a nighttime robbery we're dealing with here." The opening in the ceiling of the cabin is pointed out. "If the elevator stops and it attacks from below, you go out first. If the elevator stops and it goes silent, I go first." And here it comes. As ordered. One green goblin, /literally/ coming up. Jennifer keenly listens to the approaching sounds, as if trying to determine how it will approach. Feeling the tremor as a hand holds on, Jennifer steps forward, plants a hand against the wall for support and smashes her foot down, the force enough to tear the floor like paper, and hopefully that immense force will also hit the bullseye. Whether or not it does, Shulkie intends to withdraw the kick almost immediately. "Don't go anywhere /yet/. Stay in the /corner/." Smoke still billows from Kurt and Scott's arrival. Cyclops is still fighting wobble-legs, but he does his best to stay afloat. He'll need to. what with Shaw's hefty...god damn, what a monster of a gun. "You get on the ground," Scott says mercilessly and dispassionately. His hand was hovering next to his visor, and all it takes is a little button push to unleash red hell. The air tears apart with a terrible sound as a flood of red energy issues forth from his eyes, an unthinking and incomprehensible tidal wave of force - all of it for poor Mr. Shaw. "What?" Rasa looks utterly confused at Jennifer, staying back tightly in hir corner, gripping the railing in the elevator even as the doors ding and open. There is a She-Hulk between hirself and freedom, so ze just stays put. "What on earth does a night time bank robbery have to do with ANYTHING?" Ze glances out of the door. "Is that Prof... Cyclops and Nightcrawler?" "If you are not careful you will develop a sense of humor, Cyclops." Nightcrawler says, very wryly, and he disappears from Scott's side even as the zakting takes place. He reappears next to Shaw as the concussive force is about to slam into him, intending to use the torrent of energy as a distraction. If he's successful, and things go as he expects them to, he reaches out with his tail to grab that terrifying-looking gun from Shaw's hands. He doesn't even bother trying to wrench it from the other man's grip--if he can get contact with it Kurt immediately teleports again, taking the weapon with him. "We'll have no shooting of anyone, thank you, mein Herr, it's /so uncivilized/." BAMF--FWOOOOOOSH. Shaw just -- gawks -- as his gun is /seized/ by the Devil, who has just teleported besides him with a whiff of brimstone. And proceeds to /teleport/ away. An instant later, and a Geordi cosplayer proceeds to /slam/ him with a scything beam of red concussive force - sending him /reeling/ backward through the lobby, his back *SMASHING* against a distant wall. UNF. "Wh--thfnttnx*..." There's a dull whimper, followed by the crackle of his radio: "...ngghgn... attack... send... in..." Clonk. The kick Jennifer delivers manages to hit /something/ below a layer of now-crumpled elevator floor, that's for sure. The whole thing BOUNCES DOWN, then back up to exactly where it was, as the Goblin below loses his grip and swings its mass into a wall of the shaft, but /hangs on/ with another barbed collection of claws. Which proceeds to TEAR. RIP. DESTROY that elevator floor from below, vibrating it and sending it curving downward more with every swipe of limbs. The stream of giggles continues, breathy and solidly entertained. "I swear, I am going to have to teach you a sense of humour." Jennifer sounds only half-annoyed, her eyes trying to track the creature's movement as she listens in on the sounds. When the cabin finally creaks beneath all this punishment it's receiving, Shulkie finally turns to Rasa. "I am going to regret this, but-- This is our floor!" Jennifer hugs Rasa tightly. No protests are listened to. Hug. Cling. And /then/ Jennifer pushes herself away, sending her flying against the deformed doors, breaking through them nigh effortlessly. Scott and Kurt are treated to the side of She-Hulk landing on her back, cracking the floor and sliding some distance towards them. After which she'd immediately let go of Rasa. Rasa peels hirself away from Jennifer quickly, never the less, hir skin begins to turn green again. "Typical." Ze pulls hirself away and dusts off hir oversized clothes, looking between Kurt, Scott, and Shaw, frowning a little. Then ze looks back toward the elevator. "Guys, the guy coming up will eat people. He likes aggression. Provoking him... Is very bad. Can anyone get her out of here?" Yessss... ze is pointing at She-Hulk. Cyclops juts out his jaw a little once Shaw's down, already moving onto the next play as the elevator opens up not-as-scheduled with Shulkster and Rasa busting through, and the horrific sounds of laughter coming out of the elevator shaft. So they know the boys are on the way, and none of the guys who just got here have any inkling of what monsters may come there way. Snap decision time. Ye Fearless Leader darts in front of Jen and Rasa and drops into a crouch, dialing up his visor opening a few notches, to the 'Ho Shit' setting. "I'll cover your exit, She-Hulk, come on. Get our X-teen out of here. Duly noted, Rasa. Nightcrawler, find the trigger on that thing and use it. No, I don't care what it does." A bead of sweat runs down his forehead. This is gonna get sticky. And then there's the sound of footsteps, in the distance. From above. /Lots/ of footsteps. /HEAVY/ footsteps. And something else, too -- a distant, thrumming /buzzing/. Jackson's probably told his fellow X-Men the stories. About that one time they hit a Prometheus lab and found -- buzzing, /flying/ things. Machines they referred to as 'Murder-Drones'. No larger than a basketball, with four propeller blades sheathed in a hollow shell, propelling themselves here and there with /absurd/ speed and precision - armed with an array of gadgets. Everything from /lasers/ to miniature machine guns to /high-yield explosives/. The striketeam that's coming in - from the third story - is dressed in sharp, black uniforms - kevlar vests, helmets, visors - armed with guns. There's ten of them, all ready for action; two teams of five, each moving to one side of the escalator. But that's probably not the team's immediate concern. No, their immediate concern is the source of that /buzzing/. Over each striketeam's head there are three drones - that's a total of six - and they're coming in fast. Dark gray, each armed with a different weapon. Each of them /honing/ in, preparing to descend. You've got... about ten seconds before the lobby is MURDER-BOT CENTRAL. And fifteen seconds before it's /STRIKETEAM/ central. Kurt immediately looks down at the gun in his hands. His expression says everything that needs to be said about the situation: he has no idea how to /use/ a gun, short of what he's seen on television. Does it have a safety? Can he tell if it's active or not? He pokes and prods at the thing for a few precious seconds before Nightcrawler decides this is as good as it's going to get. He can't fit his fingers in through the trigger guard, and this causes a frown. Still, necessity is the mother of invention, or something to that effect, so the German flips the gun up so that he's securing it with both hands, delicately threading his tail through the trigger guard. Then the buzzing. The /buzzing/. For all that Kurt is adamant he isn't an animal, he has his moments. When the drones come buzzing in he bares his fangs, hissing loudly at them, and braces himself against the ground, following Scott's orders. He pulls the trigger on that ridiculous gun, carefully aimed at one of the drone groups, hoping it isn't about to explode all over him. She-Hulk is in no rush to get up. In fact, she simply throws her hands up before they flop down on the ground. "Fuck my life," is all she says. Slowly, she sits up, eyeing the shaft. She does not warn them of /who/ is coming their way; call it the innate inability to tell the truth immediately, which is a trait lawyers develop. Finally, Shulkie rises to her feet. For a brief moment, she actually glares at the mangled cabin. Although this is indeed her responsibility, she's never had a taste for all this villainy fighting. "/Ngh/," she grunts demonstratively, throwing both of her hands up before moving towards the exit, seemingly nonchalant about the fact it's blocked off. "Come on, Rasa. Don't make me drag you with me." And then the buzzing arrives. "Uhh, guys. Are you /sure/ you want me out?" Another sound fills the air in a BURST of noise, pouring into the lobby as the elevator's floor gives way, its lights flickering before ceasing entirely. Scraps of material get /vomited/ out of the doorway leading out, before the elevator's cause of demise drags itself upward and into sight. Green with glowing yellow eyes and /far/ too many razor-sharp teeth, only vaguely humanoid at this point, far too many mouths where there shouldn't be, including on a mess of squiddy tentacles protruding from its back. It bounds up like a SHARK out of the water, barbed claws digging into the lobby's floor before instantly /springing/ forward on all fours. Toward Rasa. /Cackling/. Quickly overwhelming in a way he was not expecting, Scott's sweat beads continue to run down his cheek. This was getting out of hand. The buzzing, the THING in the elevator shaft. He whirled left, then right, brzzaping this drone with a focused shot, then that drone, and this was gonna get nowhere. And ohgod, there is the monster. Cyclops made another quick decision, his teeth baring at this challenge. "We aren't staying Shulk - just make us an exit! Ditch the gun, Nightcrawler, we're gone!" And just as the Goblin starts to bound forward towards Rasa, Scott fires his optic blast still dialed up to the 'Ho Shit', intending to T-Bone Goblin with it. From ceiling to floor, this blast travels like a wall of pain. And Summers keeps his finger pressed down on the button, not really intending to take it off. When Kurt fires that gun - it makes a loud /ZZZZZPT/ sound. And suddenly a massive /HARPOON/ seems to project out of it - a long, reeling length of thick cable - aiming toward that group of drones. And missing. By a sizable chunk of change. What happens instead is - it hits the far wall /behind/ the drones. And proceeds to make a loud *WHIRRWHIRRWHIRR* sound - as a charged, oscilliating stream of high voltage /roars/ through that cable, up to the wall, bzzzzting harmlessly. Oh. It's a suped up /taser/ gun. Probably for taking out the Goblin. And now, by the sound of its dying engine... it's out of charge. YAY! A small laugh escapes Rasa's mouth as ze sees Goblin pull himself out of the elevator shaft. Ze takes a step forward, away from hir X-Team guards, toward the magnificent beast, fascinated. "You should probably stay with them, get them out of the way," ze half says to Jennifer, glancing back at hir, hir eyes yellow once more. "They don't seem know that they're all trying to stop the green one, and that they're probably cannon fodder." Ze looks back toward Goblin, turning green once more, and growing in stature. It's not a full Goblin transformation, but more like a tribute. "Oh, the love of--" Jennifer swiftly turns on her heels when she hears the cackle. "Stay the fuck down!" Murderones, strike teams-- She-Hulk focusses on the incoming charge of the Goblin. She actually charges against him, reading a punch straight at the start of his neck, adjusting her strength to 'oh wow it's going to leave a mark in the morning', also known as a speeding truck. If it connects, it's likely to hurt, and the inertia might just send the beast flying off. "CYCLOPS that was NOT USEFUL." Kurt shouts with frustration, lobbing the gun away from himself in some kind of vain hope that it might hit someone in the head and knock them for a loop. He doesn't have that kind of luck and he knows it. Instead, he drops to all fours, galloping not...away...like Cyclops told him to do, but instead towards Rasa as ze stands and starts moving towards the Goblin. "Rasa, this is really not the time!" He tells hir, and his tail comes around to wrap around an ankle. Like before, there's a rapport of collapsing air and the pair are no longer where they were standing before. Instead, they reappear near the place where Cyclops and Nightcrawler entered, where the German speaks up, "A visual on 'out' would be /marvelous/ right about now!" In case anyone forgot that he doesn't teleport blind! Well, that's enough to put an end to the cackling-- it's FOCUSING TIME. The Goblin either sees the optic blast coming, or he's just /darting/ sideways for no reason other than to confuse /just/ before it's fired off. Unfortunately, he ends up darting right into Jennifer's FIST, which connects with the side of his neck, tripping him up into a stumble back into the direction he came from. Which happens to be that lovely, red BEAM of force, hurling him straight back toward the wrecked elevator he came out of with a pained, multi-throated SCREECH. Goblin's getting slammed into the elevator shaft. Which means it's time for OSCORP STRIKE-FORCE to step in. The drones are first; behind Scott and Jennifer, they aim their guns... and begin to fire. The sound they make? The ever-terrifying THWP-THWP-THWP. These babies are armed with /glue/ guns. And the glue guns are firing glue balls straight for Jen and Scott's /feet/. Intent on locking them in place - and then proceeding to fire for their /hands/. The goal being to disable any weapons they might be holding - even though, /actually/, neither of them are holding any weapons. The boys with guns are soon behind - Oscorp's strike-team carry unusual firearms, big and bulky and similar to the shotgun. When the first few shots start aiming for Scott and Jennifer - a few seconds post-glue guns - it becomes clear why. They're not firing bullets; they're firing incredibly low velocity /slugs/ - bullets that travel at a rate comparable to a /softball/ lob - but are rather big and bulky and designed to /attach/ to whatever they hit with a moist *SPLT* - these greyish cylinders proceeding to send incredibly debilitizing flashes of high-voltage through their targets. SUPER-TAZERS. "You're as clear as anyone's gonna get! Go, GO!" Scott howls over the cacophany of sound and fury that is only gonna get worse as their time expires. The wall of drones and troops is closing in. There is just not enough beams to take care of it all. Scott looks up, dials it back and traces some thinned out, focused beams around the ceiling supports on THAT side of the building as the group hustles towards THIS side of the building, clearly trying to bring some of that roof down to aid their escape, even as he backs up. It's quick and it's dirty. Speaking of dirty - there goes Scott's hands from one of those slugs. It's his left, so he can't adjust his beam now. And he gets struck in the knee with some of those darting glue shots - and now he's limping. "Let's move!" he shouts, trying his best to be charismatic and inspire The Hustle. "Well, that didn't really work out the way I-- Okay." Jennifer observes the screeching beast being pushed back by Scott's beam, before Kurt's complain reaches her ears. Looking away from the creature she's just dared to punch, albeit with the aid of Scott's set up, Shulkie looks over her green shoulder. "Here comes the exit!" Well, not quite /right/ up. She-Hulk actually makes sure to grab her motorcycle, first. She ain't leaving without Sam. Holding the bike up under her arm, she rushes over to the shielded exit. Except... she doesn't make it there. Sam drops to the ground. "/Really/?" She tries to walk with her feet, but the glue is actually pretty strong. So what does she do instead? Slam the ground and destroy the connection. Her shoes do stick to the floor as she carries on, but it does not prevent movement. The enraged mutant's ability climbs steadily up. The bike is picked up /again/. The little attachments she's getting are barely felt-- That is, until they begin to tase her. But by then she's near the exit. Yelling in agony, she still manages to /survive/ the ordeal. The bike is dropped again, and it props against the wall. Her movements are sporradic, languid, but she starts mashing against the shield for what it's worth, tearing it down. Alas, slowly. Rasa collapses against Kurt when the waves of nausea hit hir, grabbing his hand in hir as ze tries to remain standing. It helps, it really does. Ze stands up straight, blossoms blue fur and a tail but manages to keep the yellow eyes. That's purely coincidental. Now, ze is being good and allowing the teachers to tell hir what to do. Serious. Good X-Teen. When part of the /ceiling/ comes down - a rush of concrete exploding from above with a thunderous *BOOM*, followed by smoke and crackling, crumbling debris - some of which hits two drones, sending them CRASHING to the floor with an errant buzz - one of the Oscorp lietenants proceeds to shout: "--FUCKIN' -- SWITCH TO LETHAL, TAKE OUT THE LASER!" And then there's a brief pause - a set of clicks - and... Three men open fire with /actual/ bullets. Aimed at Scott. They are aiming to take this son of a bitch /down/, -hard-. "I am very sorry." Kurt says, to Rasa as the nausea seems to hit hir. He smiles faintly as she cribs off of his physical mutation. "Hold on, both of you. Cyclops, I will be right back!" Jennifer has helpfully opened up just enough of a hole in the wall that he can see out past the shielding...and that's all Kurt needs. Gripping Rasa's hand with one of his own, his tail moves now to connect with She-Hulk's ankle. He closes his eyes, and the three of them disappear in a raccous BAMF! They reappear outside of the building, and the strain that Kurt is feeling is obvious. Still, he releases both Rasa and Jennifer, giving She-Hulk a brief, serious look. "You know what to do." He says, and then he disappears again, reappearing on the ceiling inside the lobby and trying to locate Scott before it's too late. Surely, Kurt is joking. All Jennifer can do is crank up her ability to the point where the high voltage will neither kill her, damage her or even render her unconscious. Being the biggest target, she unfortunately got hit by a good amount. She lets the electricity run its course. "P-please, for /once/. Listen. Take the transport." A finger is just barely raised, aiming nowhere in particular, clearly addressing Rasa. Bamfing and super-tasers? Not a great combination. "Go to Xavier's. Stop for no one." And then She-Hulk collapses to her knees. Stay conscious, stay conscious, stay conscious. Fortunately, she succeeds, but her form melts away, and she ends up as her human self. A conscious choice. Let's take fewer risks, now. Without bothering to question it, Scott just takes Nightcrawler, Rasa and Jen's exit as a matter of course. He doesn't waste any time at all. He turns on his heel and falls into his back, lying prone to allow most spray fire to whiz over his head as smoke and concrete billows. He coughs a couple of times, then raises his gooped hand right in front of his visor and pushes down on the fire button in an attempt to maybe...laser it. Maybe that'll work. It's something to do as you're getting shot at and waiting for the elf-vac. That's elf evac. The goop /is/ destructible. If you're careful and precise. Which, we will assume Scott /is/. BLAST. Goop. Bullets are still spraying, but the gunshots are more sporatic; the Oscorp strike-team can't see through the smoke, and they /seem/ to presume they got him. Someone shouts: "I think he's down!" -- followed by -- "CHECK IN!" -- followed by -- "SECURE THE AREA!" -- and the rattle of feet still coming down the stairs. Along with the buzz of drones /sweeping/ out, bright red laser-beams (the harmless kind) swinging in long, streaking lines, flashing and scanning the resulting chaos -- looking for any more hostile targets. What the drones fail to detect is one impartial party in this chaos. Left behind and forgotten, it is the unwilling victim of this all, clad in green and purple - Samael. It is propped against the shields that had gone down to obstruct the exit, waiting to be picked up. Beckoning with its sad singular headlight. In the midst of all that smoke, there is still the sound of air collapsing in on itself. Kurt can mostly see Scott by merit of the fact that he seems to be trying to blast his own hand off. The elf seems entirely ignorant of Samael's sad headlight. Instead, he teleports from the ceiling to the floor, trying to lay himself as flat as he can. It is entirely possible that he gets clipped with a bullet or two, but Nightcrawler can't help that now. He reaches out to grab the nearest part of Cyclops he can reach, and scrunches his eyes shut again, muttering in quiet German. "Unser Vater in dem Himmel, dein Name werd geheiligt..." The pair disappear. They reappear in the same orientation--that is, laying down, six inches or better above the ground--outside of the building. Gravity takes over at this point, and when Kurt is finished falling to the pavement--he isn't moving. Very helpful. In the next few hours, several strange things are reported in the city. First, there is the story of a young colorful person, splotchy with blue fur and green flesh who goes into several convenience stores buying vinegar. Later, there is the story someone told about how their favorite Shawarma restaurant was closed down for hours as a strangle group of green and blue people (and one visored white guy) sat around eating wrap after wrap of the tasty seasoned meat. And then, several residents of New York City saw a man driving a motorcycle north, towards Westchester, with three people on the back, one with a tail.