ArchivedLogs:In the Dark
| In the Dark | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2015-10-12 "You can't fix shit like this." (Returning home from DC.) |
| Location
<BOM> Compound Grounds - Ascension Island | |
In some places, reaching the main grounds of this island takes a precarious scramble up from the rocky-craggy shore; in some places, just a short hike away from the beach. Once an old homestead, most of the 28 acres of property are taken up with forest, a dark thick sprawl of greenery through which a small stream winds crookedly. Under its shady canopy, myriad buildings are tucked away, an eclectic mix of sheds and tiny sturdy log cabins that give the area a rustic feel. Centrally, a wide clearing has been cut out of the trees. A large sweep of lawn has had a metal swingset -- two swings to either side of a small trapeze bar -- set up to one side. The lawn leads up to a cabin bigger than the others, a squat one-story building. Long and low, its wide front porch and cheerfully-painted yellow and pink shutters lend the building a welcoming air. Somewhere over in the woods just behind the main cabin -- not /too/ long past -- a car has landed. Not the /standard/ method of arrival on the island, perhaps, but then, there are plenty enough people around here who are non-standard; /this/ car arrives entirely nonfunctional, electrified and singed and with its passengers likely rather nauseated by now after a PRETTY jarring and tumultuous journey that took many false stops before Ion landed in the right place. The arrival itself was quiet. Likely would have gone without much notice at all from the rest of the island -- save for the sweep of sudden blackout that arrived /with/ it, a fierce surge, first, of higher voltage throughout the island that fries a large /bulk/ of plugged-in electronics -- and then darkness. Where the central clearing meets the edge of the woods, the darkness, now, is broken up by a flicker of blue-white light, wrapping itself in lightning-flickers around Ion where he is kind of jogging out of the trees. Kind of staggering, when jogging fails him. His eyes (too wide, too bright, his face pale and sweaty) and his path are both set on the other side of the clearing, in the direction of his /own/ cabin, somewhere off in the darkened distance. B is jogging out of the woods not far behind Ion. She doesn't seem much bothered by the darkness -- mostly just by the flickers of light that dance around the electrokinetic. A soft hint of whine arises in her throat as she speeds up, sprinting to stop in front of him, cautiously tap an arm. Veeery cautiously. "Hey -- hey. Slow -- down? Please? Where -- we -- you --" She falters uncertainly. Isra trails in B's wake by a few seconds, nearly invisible except by the random sparks of light from Ion. Her steps are heavy, but she only staggers once, digging the talons of one long-fingered hand deep into a treetrunk to steady herself while she retches. She curls one wing around her head--perhaps to shield her eyes from electrokinetic's flickering, or perhaps to shield her companions from seeing her vomit. Numerous small, round puncture marks riddle the membranes of her wings, the bleeding largely staunched, and the outer two phalanges distinctly singed around the edges. Recovering, she pushes on ahead toward B and Ion. Her eyes cast around now that she has cleared the treeline, and she sniffs deeply at the ozone-tinged air. The stars gleam down stark and bright from a moonless sky, backlighting the city skyline in negative space. "Home, I think," her voice is hoarse and backed with a growl. "But not all of us." There's a flap of wings, a fluttering descent from above. Dusk is barefoot, in jean shorts, no shirt, carrying a (now-defunct) laptop under one arm -- he's looking rather disgruntled as he lands by the cabin, wings snapping in sharply behind him. He starts to stalk towards the main lodge until catching sight of Ion and the tiny electrical storm that dances around him. "-- Oh. You're. Home." In the flickering cold light cast off the electrokinetic, his eyes shine; his expression has shifted rather swiftly, softening from irritable to concerned. As he moves closer one wing stretches out towards the others -- then halfway retracts -- then curls around B in a brief squeeze. Curls against Isra in a longer one. His eyes have fallen half-closed, not so much /looking/ at Ion though his face is turned in that direction. "-- {Hey. Brother. Stop. Talk to me.}" Scruffy dog, sort of furless and raggedy in patches around the shoulders, lays at the front of one of the cabins. Partially asleep, partially hard to see given otherwise intact black haircoat, the whiteness of underbelly and legs tucked under him in that curled canid ball. One ear turns first towards a 'change' in presence, but brown eyes open and pay more attention when the island is suddenly swept into electronic-darkness. Dog head lifts, body rising behind it on-guard. Where, what? The dog starts a lopping trot towards the car, but the recognition of flickering-brightness jerks him to a halt. Fur erodes almost immediately to give way to clothes, skin, bones rearranging until man can push off the ground with his fingers to stand upright and push off to close the distance from arrivals. "Ion!" Is stern in shout in his path, but with it, his paler eyes switch between those who arrive with him, hesitated by the look of them. Simon was in the middle of microwaving popcorn when the sudden blackout hit and things were fried. He let out a few startled words in German before searching for some form of light and heading outside to see if anyone else had lost power too. In plain black slacks and a button up purple shirt, he's got a candle with him but its flickering flame doesn't last long outside. His eyes adjust slowly to the darkness as he starts to make his way towards the electrical storm. He stops at the edge of the gathering, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the light. "What's going on?" he asks, concern clear on his face. Regan's steps are none too steady, either. She is slower to follow the others out of the woods -- perhaps she's taken care of her vomiting in there, because her expression has a definite greenish tinge to it, and she is steadying herself against any convenient tree in passing as well. She pauses, leaning against the railing of the cabin's porch, to give Ion a very long look. In the barely-there light of his intermittent glow, her expression is difficult to read. Eventually she takes a few deep breaths, straightens, looks back in the direction of the car once she's steadier on her feet. "Do you mind? I need to get some supplies." She's reaching for Simon's candle, patting at her pockets to check for lighter as she continues up towards the cabin. However brief, the touch to Ion's arm comes with a very powerful and unpleasant jolt. He shakes it off, not stopping his (staggering) (unsteady) trek across the clearing. "Home. {/Home/, this ain't fucking home,} not till I get my dog back, hermana. -- Fuck you want me /say/, batboy, Uncle Tom-ass bastard {got the fucking jump on me}." The dance of lighting around him is growing, casting off a brighter shower of sparks that threatens to zap anyone too near. "The hell you think some fucking /Feds/ gonna do with Kay? -- I'mm'a fix it." Perhaps this is his answer to Simon. It's all he gives, anyway. B pulls hir arm back with a small yip, gills fluttering. Hir eyes turn aside, scrunching as the light brightens -- but when it grows enough to jolt her /again/ she skitters back a few steps, lowering to a crouch in the grass. "I messed up," she answers Simon -- not so much guiltily as just quietly. "Took too long with -- and the Sentinels were new and I -- didn't get into their /comms/ to --" She breaks off, head shaking sharply before she continues down this line of thinking. She draws in a sharp breath. "Some -- soldier -- people. Took Kay. They were /mutants/." /This/, here, actually sounds disgusted. Isra leans into Dusk's wing, quivering faintly. She does not flinch away from the sparks Ion sheds, weathering the jolt wearily. "They expected this." Only her high, alto voice forms words; her lower vocal folds just continue growling low and barely audible to most human hearing. "Maybe not specifically, but the MAD had dozens of Sentinels in their offices. Kept us there until..." The growl rises in volume slightly in lieu of verbally finishing her sentence. A soft growl rumbles up in Dusk's throat. "/Ion/." His other wing stretches out, curling out in front of the other man. His breath hisses inward at the shocks, but he doesn't pull back. "Ion. Man." He tightens his grip on Isra -- perhaps for comfort or perhaps in reflex, with the tensing of muscles that comes with the electric jolts. "I don't think they're gonna do anything good. But you go haring off now, what's that gonna do? How you gonna find him? We'll /get/ him back but it'll take more planning than that." "Oh, here you are," Simon hands the candle over, the vanilla scent still fresh. The patting prompts the phase-morpher to hand over a lighter along with the candle and he watches Regan a moment before Ion speaking gets his attention once more. He looks between the others with wide eyes as more of the story is told. "Mutants...working for them," he mutters, cursing under his breath in French. His hands clench into fists and he's silent a moment before looking around. "Does anyone need anything right now? First aid, water...?" Killian takes a bare step back as Ion continues forwards, lingering closer to Dusk and Isra for the time being, the expression he wears darkening at those words. The /name/. The hand that was partially lifted as if to stop Ion- he knows better- lowers back to his side. "What the fuck you mean they were mutants?" This, cast to B, with a narrowed if superficially calm gaze that may only slightly, maybe, be wavering hue, shape. "C'mon, man. Fix it." Ends up echoeing after Ion's, "You can't fix shit like this." He gestures towards the electrokinetic with vague effort, but sighs in the wake of Dusk's sentiments. "We." He repeats after Dusk, emphasizing it. Ion doesn't even hesitate when Dusk's wing comes up to block his path; he /keeps/ pressing forward straight towards Dusk, fist slamming out hard towards the other man's bare chest. Together with a stun-gun shock of power. "My boy nabbed by the fucking gestapo don't you all fucking /tell/ me I can't goddamn /fix/ it. What you gonna do? You come the hell with me or you step /off/, yo. You /know/ what they /do/ to us. You /all fucking know/." B pulls in a quick breath, at this. She doesn't try to /interrupt/, though. She digs her knuckles against her eyes, shoulders curling inward as she unfolds herself slowly back to her feet. "Mutants. Working as /guards/ at the Registry. There was a teleporter -- and a telekinetic, they attacked. Took Kay. I --" She bites down on her lip. Shaking her head once again, quick and sharp, and looking to Dusk's nonfunctional laptop. Looking around the darkened island. "I need to go. All the info we got -- my bots -- once I'm somewhere with /power/ again --" There's a rapid flutter of her gills, and she backs slowly away from Ion. "I have a lot of work to do." Still enscounced beneath Dusk's wing, Isra gets shocked by Ion's punch as well. The growl in her throat hitches only briefly. "Teague is bleeding, needs first aid," she says, nodding at Simon. "but I think Regan has that handled." Her eyes glow a faint, eerie green in the starlight as she gazes toward the dark skyline, unblinking. The phalanx of one wing stretches out to touch B's shoulder. "Might have quite a ways to go to find power." Her gaze snaps back to Ion. "We will get him back. And we will be a damn sight more effective if we do it together." Dusk stiffens, the laptop falling from under his arm to thud to the ground. "/We/," he growls back through clenched teeth, in re-emphasis after Killian. His hands come up, gripping Ion's fist despite the continued jolting that ripples through him. His wings droop behind him, posture tipping kind of jittery in against Isra. "What're you gonna do, search the whole country? On /foot/? -- Sss." This hiss comes when Isra mentions going a long way to find power. His fingers squeeze harder down against Ion's hand in tighter clench. "... your bike," he tells B, "probably not going to get you there." Killian briefly takes in B as shi describes the event. It makes him go very /still/, the look about him controlled as he regards hir. But before he can derive any sort of reply, Ion's electrified push into Dusk has him surging forwards to grab the other man's arm with his right- a likely just-as-futile endeavor to stop him, to redirect attention, whichever seems unclear, though muscles are already tensed in the anticipation of what's anticipated to come. The shapeshifters words are low, nearly growled, "And you wanna try this fucking hard to go join him? Ain't gonna go right /now/. Take a goddamn minute and think about it." These, too, quickly following Isra, Dusk's attempts. Simon jumps when Ion strikes and zaps Dusk. He lifts a hand but it ends up falling to his side, Simon unsure what to do. When someone being hurt is mentioned to him, Simon looks around quickly. He calms when B points out that's where Regan went though, the blond falling quiet. He looks again to B when Dusk points out the bike is likely fried. "Tell me where you need to go and I can give you a ride if you don't mind phasing," he offers, glancing at the confrontation happening. For a moment, the shocks grow as Ion yanks (quite futiley, given the serious imbalance in /strength/) against Dusk's grip, snaps his elbow (less completely hopelessly) against Killian's grasp towards the other man's chest. But then, slowly, the lightning starts to ebb. The shocks fade. There's only a small skitter of sparks and then -- nothing. In the wake of the previous electrical light, the faint starlight that serves as the only current illumination seems very dark in comparison. "{-- Mother/fucker/.}" His head thuds down against Dusk's chest. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfucknono -- /I/ need my goddamn bike. -- You find for me, little shark. Who the fuck was they." B's gills flutter again when Isra touches hir. She closes hir eyes, nose twitching as Ion's storm fades. "He's one of us. You're one of us. We're not going to just --" She swallows, curling her arms around herself. "I'm going to need help." This, with a small glance to Dusk. "When -- you can -- get free. This is -- we have. A lot. A /lot/." Hir hands clap to the sides of hir neck, pressing the gills down flat. Hir breathing slows, audible in the darkness. "There's a lot of ocean between us and the city. I -- don't know where I need to go after that," she admits. "Somewhere my computer'll still work. Somewhere that won't kick me out for -- a long while." After a pause: "Preferably somewhere with /food/. I might pass out soon." For someone who has spent the last minute or so getting second-hand electrical shocks, Isra does not look all that relieved when Ion's power wanes, completing the blackout. "I don't trust my wings right now, and in any event I should see to the children." Her other wing wraps around Ion, a tired drape. "/And/ their father." Then, to B and Dusk. "If you exhaust your options in lower Manhattan, check my apartment in Morningside Heights." Then, quietly, as she begins to coax Ion toward the door, "Good hunting." | |
