ArchivedLogs:Safe
| Safe | |
|---|---|
Warning: Violence. | |
| Dramatis Personae
Ducky, Faelan, Ghost, Jim, Kisha, Lyric, Sebastian, Benjamin, Horus, Jean Grey, Kurt, Logan, Storm |
2014-04-14 safety patrol. (part of Perfectus TP.) |
| Location
<XS> Forest | |
Quiet and shady, the trees rise all around here high and thick. In stillness, woodland creatures make appearances, though sudden noises scare them back into the cover. Dappled sunlight filters down between the thick foliage, and the ground underfoot is heavily overgrown, though here and there paths have been worn, by deer or years of students wandering familiar trails. It is a glorious spring day, bright and sunny and warm. The forest is waking up, green and alive with birdsong, flowers budding. A lively cheerful /drumming/ that doesn't entirely belong here but has made itself at /home/ lately. Lyric has been a regular presence, ever since the creepy HEXXUS tree moved in -- admittedly less Hexxus like of late. In the period after classes end she is perched in her usual post nearby Jim-tree, dressed brightly springlike in flowing seafoam-green tunic, silver-bordered in intricate vinelike embroidery, long fitted trousers all scrunched-up at their bottoms, beaded thong-sandals. A gauzy white-and-green headscarf wrapped around her poofy hair. Between her legs is her well-loved set of drums. Her hands beat down against them, rapid and skilled, filling the woods around them with an exuberant dance-worthy beat. Can trees dance? She seems to be trying to /encourage/ them to. A beautiful day is the perfect time to get back out into nature to take some more pictures, and Faelan is out and ready for the day. The borrowed camera lays hanging around his neck by it's strap, and over top of an overlarge teeshirt he has a backpack to hold onto the other equipment. His cargo pants pockets seem a little bit bulgy, and they are tucked into a pair of hiking boots with an odd knot holding them lashed to his leg. He does seem nice and relaxed though as he readjusts a ball cap to keep stronger light from his eyes. As he trudges through the forest, he inhales deeply the damp scents wondering what he shall see today. The ominous Hexxus tree has indeed made a turn for the repentant; its bulging once-black sides are now rife with green moss sporting small white flowers dappling his trunk. Its branches are a wide opening canopy of unlikely MYRIAD types of fruit leaves, cherry blossoms blooming early, though a few peach blooms, larger and more lacey, are starting to open as well. Thick around the Jimtree's base and netting wide in a loose blanket around it like a fantasy wonderland is a thick sheet of expanding kudzu vines, which has begun to grow thickest around Lyric's preferred seat like a stage. A few kudzu blooms have begun to open their floral ladders in violet and fuchsia in her favor. Beautiful day, indeed. Ghost decided to take the day in STRIDE, travelling through the forest and just staring at nature. She's wearing a light green t-shirt, a pair of old jeans, and is barefoot, as the day CALLS FOR IT. She's passing towards Lyric and Jimtree, a smile at the familiar face as she talks. "Oh, hey Lyric. This the tree people have been talking about?". Ghost waits for a second..before remembering that Lyric can't hear her, a small facepalm of her error, as she slowly approaches around the side as to attempt not to spook Lyric, signing slowly once in a position where Lyric could see it. < Hello, Lyric, how are you today? Is this the special tree people have been talking about? >. The sunny warm weather has encouraged Ducky to set aside her homework for just a little bit longer in favor of going and visiting with the mass of avian life that Spring has brought forth. Dressed for the outdoors, Ducky wears a pair of worn black cargo pants, a puffy army green vest is left open over her gray school t-shirt. Her ever present dappled gray and white pigeon is nestled into the hood of her vest, watching alertly as Ducky moves through the trees. Her battered and scuffed black hiking boots provide purchase as she ducks below the branches and skips over raised roots, moving in time with the distant drum beat. An easy smile lighting her features, Ducky giggles as she bounces about, the ecclectic flock that follows her on foot and on wing is growing ever more - starlings, jays, corvids, and even a small grouping of Canada geese trundling along behind her. She makes her way to the clearing to investigate the odd tree the birds and other students have been talking about. Arriving at last with her feathered followers, Ducky grins and waves to those already in the clearing, her cheery expression perhaps a bit understandably distant given the number of birds around her. There's a small droning buzzing through the trees to quietly hum beneath the lively drumming of Lyric's music. It's heading /towards/ Lyric's music, drawn, perhaps, to it. The droning comes from a very shiny gold metal dragonfly, humming its way at about head-height -- /short/ head-height -- alongside Sebastian through the woods. The diminutive teenager is brightly dressed, too. Swishy flame-hued skirt, black sparkly silver-striped top that /is/ sleeveless but has had gauzy flowy sleeves safety-pinned onto it, chunky studded ankle-boots. There's a blimp hovering along in /front/ of the dragonfly that the dragonfly is in the process of docking with. "-- Frith is the biggest one, too," he's telling Kisha happily. "So if /he/ fits fine I'm pretty sure it's perfect for all of them. -- Oh /man/." For a moment his eyes close, gills fluttering open as his head tilts, listening to the music. "Do the birds like music at all?" he wonders. And then to Ghost, "-- The tree's Jim. Hi, Jim." The one concession Kisha has made to the nice weather is that her labcoat has stayed in her dorm room. "Before I started work on Bob I would have found it strange to name a drone," she admits, glancing back at old faithful Bob trundling along a few foot behind. Laden with a selection of tools for field work on the flying drones. "But I can see now how you can become fond enough of a robot that it would require a name." She taps at a dial on her big tech aviator goggles and Bob comes to a halt outside the clearing. With a frown she adds "The tree has a name? Or the tree isn't actually a tree?" Seeing the group growing around the weird tree, Faelan offers a wave in greeting. "Hey everyone, how goes it?" he calls out, before noticing Lyric amongst the group before he repeats his greeting query in sign. Seeing the gathering better with the approach, he hrms a moment, drumming the camera. With dual speach/sign he inquires "Mind if I get a shot? I figure I should get a picture or two of something besides birds and trees after all. If you guys don't mind that is." He feels a bit sheepish, but better to ask than be a doofus, or at least more of a doofus as he twists knobs on the camera. Thumpthumpthump, thumpthumpthump, Lyric's drumming doesn't actually /cease/ when she finds her clearing has turned into a /sudden party/. In fact, it just gets /more/ lively, /more/ exuberant. Her /smile/ brightens, cheerful, wide, eyes lighting as she finds not just a crowd of students but a crowd of /birds/ joining the group. Her head bobs along, and she offers her roommate a huge wide smile, though her hands don't leave her drums. One foot starts tapping along, in time with her beat, and she glances from Jimtree to Ghost and then back, at the question. She nods quickly in affirmation, and now she /does/ lift one hand, the intricate rhythm dropping back for a moment to just a one-handed beat so that she can sign a quick introduction, pointing to the tree and spelling, J-I-M. She plucks one fuschia blossom from nearby her, holding it out to Ghost in offering -- look, it goes with the purple! -- and nodding happy acceptance to Faelan's picture-request before she returns to her drumming. "Oh..oh.". Ghost nods at Sebastian's explanation without questioning, as she grins as Lyric, <Thank you!> being signed quickly as she takes the blossom, holding it and looking at it, her grin brighter, comparing the flower to her skin, as she nods to Faelan. "Go ahead!". There's a twittering, a rustling-fluttering of wings, and one more bird is joining the party. Okay, not /really/ one more bird, but it's easy enough to mistake Horus for one at first as he swoops in to alight on the ground at Ducky's side, his quiet twittering not really intelligible to any but the other birds around. And her, of course. << /I/ like music, >> he's answering Sebastian. << I like /her/ music oh /wow/ this is. Lots of people is there a /tree/ party um, woah, I, just came to find -- you or -- B or -- /wow/ it's, warm, here, and, maybe I should. Find you a different -- /I/ know that bluejay! >> "The tree isn't a tree," Bastian explains to Kisha, glancing down at a tablet in his hands as the two robots fit together in /blissful/ robot conjugation. "S'our friend Jim, he got -- pretty hurt saving my Pa from the explosion at our old place. Though I think Professor Munroe has some trees that /do/ have names." His head is starting to bob faintly along with the music, too. A small smile flits across his face as Ghost holds the flower up. "Looks good. You could tuck it behind your ear and keep it a while." He glances back down to his tablet, the back up to the docking robots. "How long did it take before you named Bob? I name a lot of mine but they're just -- easier to -- keep track of, I guess." Ducky grins and nods, bobbing her head in time with the drum beat, signing instinctively as she speaks, "Some of them do, yes, and some of them are really really picky. I mean, Kushi kinda despises a lot of pop, but likes drums and classical." She giggles and grins, stopping near the base of the Jim-Tree, birds beginning to settle in on her person and in the trees around the clearing, "Sometimes the ravens sing along." None of her birds seem quite comfortable with the idea of nesting in the lush canopy of the squat tree, though some of the robins and starlings seem content to start foraging about the roots for tasty bugs and grubs that might disturb the tree. Other birds are actually bobbing their head in time to the beat, and a group of chickadees form a small murmuration above the Jim-canopy that dances in time with the lively drum beats. "Jim-tree?" she asks curiously, looking up at the canopy of branches, the little tufted titmouse that has nestled into her rumpled brown hair looking up at the same time. Faelan's question gets a wide grin and a thumbs up, though another bird takes that opportunity to light on her outstretched arm, "Though you're gonna kinda probly likely going to get birds and trees right now. 'cause I'm here. And a forest is kinda made of trees." Horus's arrivel earns a brilliant smile from Ducky, and she waves happily, translating his answer out loud for the others - the wild birds around Ducky seem to twitter happily in response to Horus. With affirmations of photogenic capture, Faelan offers a thumbs up in reply back. Putting the camera up to his face, he bumps the camera into his hat brim a moment and chuckles. "Oops, maybe I should get one of those umbrella hats instead." Flipping the cap backwards and thus negating it's entirely usefulness, he looks through the view finder to try and line up a good shot. As he fiddles, a light starts to blink on it near the little flash area on the side of the camera. "Stupid flash, no I don't want that. Long exposure, okay, twist that..." he murmurs to himself and starts to push buttons as the shutter makes clicky noises as he chuckles at Ducky's comment."Well yeah, I know that its trees and birds, but this time there will be more people. Cloth apparently does weird things with lighting and it's on my list of things that I'm supposed to get shots of." Nodding his head, he pauses as he looks towards the docking robots and mad scientists. "Oh yeah Kisha, I totally need to bug you later on for something. Do you know anything about throat mics?" he says with his face behind the blocky old camera. There is plenty of insect for the foraging birds to locate; though thriving now and almost aggressively healthy with its vibrant emerald greens and lush flora for all its absurd frankensteined multi-plant parts, there are always invasive plant pests that burrow and /eat/ a healthy tree. The increasing activity around the tree's base finds no major complaint nor compliment - but one may notice, that while the Hexxus tree itself and surrounding vinery is a fairy-tale glade of small flowers and sweet green smells and new spring growth, the parameters of the glade, where surrounding trees fall beneath the skirts of kudzu vine, all other plant life is /suffering/ for it. Wilting and dry, they possess no spring buds of their own. Jimtree is taking it ALL nom nom. A passing breeze drops lazy blizzards of cherry petals to land on the noses, hair, shoulders and lashes of those passing beneath them. Hopefully he won't be eating them as well. "About the time some of the software quirks in the robotic arm made it seem like he had a personality," Kisha explains, taking a few steps back and leaning against Bob. "Usually everything I make as a project designation and an issue number." She waves at Faelan and shrugs. "My current headset arrangement includes a subvocal microphone they're not the simplest thing to make but are by no means impossible." Rather than advance any further into the clearing she begins pottering about with the toolkit mounted on Bob. Ghost nods to Sebastian. "Ahaha, great idea.". Ghost puts the flower behind her ear, it meshing nicely with her brown hair, as she waves to Horus. "Man, well, then, thank you Jim. You're a true hero.". Ghost grins at..Jim-tree, humming slowly. The change in the party in the woods is /quiet/, at first. There's a -- /hole/ opening up, in the midst of the clearing. A /rent/ in the air, an odd rip right in the space of the forest that /shivers/ and then disturbs the world around it. It doesn't make noise so much as it /stop/ noise, insects and birds quieting in the vicinity as, suddenly, bits of the world are /pushed/ aside to displace the space around it. Just slightly. Just enough to make a little more /space/ for this sudden /something. Something which is, very suddenly, severing open right between Ducky and Horus, not harmful so much as just pushing the two apart from each other by a few feet as it makes space where there was no space before. And through this /space/ in the world, there is -- well, nothing, at first. Just an odd rip in the air, gashed open and /hanging/ there, a hole in the middle of the clearing that leads to -- or from -- who-knows-where. For a few seconds there is silence. And then, an almost timid tentative-sounding voice from nowhere in particular hazards a small, hopeful, "-- Is this Xavier's?" "Cool, I may ask what parts you'd need for it. I mean, being all invisible doesn't do much good if people hear you talking right?" Faelan offers a smile, he's probably more relaxed than most have seen him in awhile. The smile and relaxation seem to fade away at the spatial distortion though, and he blink blinks, figuring he should maybe take some shots of it just in case as he backs away. "Um, who are you? Are you a mutant?" he asks back, slightly timidly his voice cracking slightly. Yep, backing away slowly as the camera rests against his chest now as his hand fishes through a pocket. Lyric's eyes just open wiiide at the sudden gaping /hole/ in the world. /Now/ her drumming stops, arms curling around her drums to hug them close. She inches a little closer to the tree, brows furrowing, more puzzled than immediately alarmed. This /is/ Xavier's, after all. She glances to Ducky and Ghost with a curious, 'Huhwhat?' POINT. 'New student?' At the 'wormhole', Ghost is also backing away from it, /herself/ looking to Ducky and Lyric, signing rapidly to Lyric. 'No idea. Never heard the voice, and we got no emails since the kid with the quills last week. I'm pretty sure they would have told us if someone was coming?'. Ghost is inching back /juuust a bit/ farther, eyes wary at the gashing. Another quick sign. 'Uh..should we get a teacher?'. Horus squawks, surprised if unhurt, fluttering up-up-up to skim his way /over/ the rift and hover, now, over Ducky's head. << Wooooah umm, the world just opened does that happen a lot around here? Actually I guess I know people who can open the world is that like a teleporty thing? I don't know anyone who can /keep/ the world open do I? I forget. Do you know anyone who can keep the world open? I haven't met /every/-one here yet because I hide a lot? Should I stop hiding? Then I'd meet everyone. I like the treehouse at least. I could, >> he suggests to Ducky with sudden excitement, << invite everyone to hang out in the treehouse /with/ me. Or on top of the playground. Those are better-places. Do you want to come? Um. Um-um-um. >> His head is tiiilting all the way to one side as he circles all the way around the rift, returning to its front. << I don't /see/ anyone who -- who -- OH are they invisible? >> This actually sounds like it reassures him. << Jax is invisible. /Sometimes/. >> Which, from his mental tone, is a point in favor of Invisible Persons. Even within the mansion grounds Kisha is somewhat suspicious of anything which seems to tell physics to go take a hike. She takes a few steps to put Bob between herself and the anomaly, hefting a heavy looking wrench from the toolbox. "I've got a live video feed recording and can trigger my panic button with a thought," she notes, keeping her voice low. "But maybe we should all back away from the hole in space? Just to be on the safe side." Giggling as the cherry petals that drift down from the mis-matched canopy, Ducky is quite content to just enjoy being around friends and fowl, birds chirping in echo of her happy expression. But then the sudden quieting of the gleeful birdson catches her by surprise, and she looks around in confusion, mentally asking for clarification as to what is going on. When the gaping hole in space splits her from Horus, her eyes go wide in worry, backing away slowling, looking to Faelan, the only adult in the area, for guidance. The question about getting a teacher gets a slow nod, but she does not speak to the voice in the darkness. Fumbling for her own phone, kept in the pocket of her vest. Backing herself towards the base of the Jim-tree, Ducky signs, 'Should get a teacher. Even if this is a new visitor student whatever. Teacher is good idea.' To Horus, Ducky gestures for him to move away from the hole, just in case it is bad << Should stay away, just in case. Don't know who/what/how that is. Need to get a teacher soon. Teachers can help, can answer. >> The young woman has a lot of confidence in the teaching staff here, apparently. Though, perhaps a bit rudely, she does not translate for Horus, her audible voice apparently vacant in the light of the world rending hole that opened next to her moments before. Where the wild birds of her flock were merely quiet at the disturbance, they are now all eerily silent, barely even rustling feathers - all attention focused on the darkness. "{Holyfuck.}" Sebastian's startled exclamation comes in abrupt Vietnamese, eyes opening to disconcertingly wide proportions as he scrambles back closer to Kisha and Bob and away from the rift. He hugs his tablet close against his chest. "Er -- are you lost?" he hazards, aloud in English this time. "We could get a teacher for you, if you need help?"
"I -- yes," the voice answers, uncertain-timid again, after a long pause. "A teacher?" This sounds hopeful again. And then there is a long quiet. "I was lost, but --" Then more quiet. After this, a face -- young, late teens, perhaps, freckle-faced, grey eyes, hair in twin braids down the sides of her head, sticks out from the hole. And then the sunny spring world fades from view. It's still very much /there/, certainly; wind through the trees, warmth on the skin, the solid feel of ground underfoot; it's only vision that has, at the moment, blurred into obscurity. And then there are footsteps. Quite a /lot/ of footsteps. Many, many footsteps. Dozens of people? In blurred-vision there are a /lot/ of silhouette-shapes passing out of the rift and through the woods, mostly bypassing the children and swarming for the mansion. Mostly. At the blurredness, Ghost is definitely beginning to panic. This..even if it's an accidental power mishap, this isn't good. She's drawing her phone, panic button and phone location recorded to memory, as she presses it. Since she's a teenager, her phone is always ready for use, of course. "Guys. Guys.". Ghost is signing this towards Lyric if she can even see it as she says this. "I think..time to move. And..get away, now.". Though, Ghost doesn't actually know who she is talking to or signing to. Lyric claps her hands to her lips. There's a raspy kind of /hyperventilating/ coming from her as her vision fades, and she doubles over where she sits, a long low moan escaping her lips. It's only years of having it /drilled/ int her skull that makes her reach for her panic button, really her only useful function now to hit the key on her phone to activate it before promptly just -- rocking back and forth where she sits, tears stinging her eyes. A low growl rumbles in Sebastian's chest, deep and throaty; he tenses, but it's less frightened and more /angry/, dropping to all fours as his teeth bare and his claws start to lengthen. Eyes abruptly nonfunctional, he doesn't seem particularly /bothered/; his head tilts, listening, and his nostrils /flare/ in quick sniffing, head turning to orient towards the intruders. The toe of one chunky platform boot is pressing against the heel of the other, starting to kick off the (/totally adorable/ but, okay, /pretty impractical/) footwear. Beneath the portal, where the vibrant blanket of Jimkudzu had gently parted to the shift in physics like a green sea, the vines compress beneath whatever feet now pass over them. Crunching softly as any forest undergrowth might. -- and then, subtly, it's not. Almost tentatively, like a muscle contracting to pull the sinew fibers tight, the vines clench up faintly around the legs of those passing through the clearing. Experimental at first. And then slightly firmer. "Bob, Engage bodyguard mode," Kisha snaps, crouching down and huddling up against the rear of her drone. "Whoever you people are please be advised you are on camera and the footage will be provided to the authorities. I recommend you leave now before any unpleasantness occurs." Ducky remains somewhat calm despite no longer being able to see, or at least she is attempting to remain as calm as she can, taking deep, steadying breaths. The hand that was on her phone is shaking, but she too depresses her panic button, unsure if the others have yet or not. Her eyes close, and she extends her mind to the two raptors in her flock, a kestrel and a yearling red-tailed hawk, pleading for help << Tell me what you see, please. How many? Follow them. Keep an eye on them, please. You are my eyes now. >> Using her companion pigeon to guide her movements, Ducky attempts to climb, a bit clumsily above the now squirming sea of vines. Her flock, the ones not acting as her eyes, are beginning to swarm unhappily around the intruders - the trio of Canada geese hissing and posturing at them. << Horus? Are... are you still here? >> she questions, worry and fear eeking through her mental voice, amid a chatter of unhappy bird-song, << Please stay safe. Please. Don't get hurt, or lost. Please don't get lost. >> Oh look danger, Faelan's mind parses and suddenly he is totally not there, or at least there is nothing that would show that he is there. He's used to not seeing himself, but not seeing anything else clearly makes his mind ache and he drops down low to the ground in hopes of navigating by touch. Feel the kudzu branch, follow it away from where he had been facing. There are a rush of options running through his mind on what precisely might have caused the vision blur, but his goal is to get out of the area of effect enough. Still the phone clicks over, and too busy to care much on whether it was answered or not "Invasion of school. Six students in the forest, big intrusion wave, teleporter. We're blind here. Eeep!" he says though the the grabbing by the vines of hand and foot disrupts his speed chatter. The startlement triggers the reflex he had been repressing, and with himself being the only thing in the area that his powers can actually latch onto causes the field to enwrap him as it tries to teleport him away. The bulk of the enormous crowd has passed on by the time the kudzu starts to awaken, a swarm of them flooding through the trees and on towards the building as the rip seals back up behind them. But there are a few still staying behind to /examine/ the students left here. Figures lingering in the trees, shadowy-silhouettes in the students' blurred-vision. The birds, though, see much more clearly still. A huge group travelling towards the school -- and five staying behind in the clearing. The kudzu finds some purchase on five pairs of legs that have lingered -- well, it starts to, at least. But around one of those pairs it is shriveling, withering and /disintegrating/ pretty much as soon as it nears, leaves and vines just crumpling into dust as it coils in around the lean form of one thin woman-shape who steps out easily of the entangling blanket with a /snort/, picking her way delicately out. "Unpleasantness," a smooth voice answers Kisha. "Oh, but you don't even know the half of it." Another form is -- /growing/. Ankles, perhaps, wrapped about by vines, but the rest of him /stretching/ rubbery-long to reeeeach out a long arm towards Faelan. Streeeeetch, snake, seeking to coil an oddly serpentine arm around the young man's arm now. This young man, the birds can see, is stretchy-distorted, bending his body like /putty/. Of the other three figures there is at the moment less to tell. One, short and squat and redhaired, is frowning down at the kudzu and hacking at it as he pulls his way out, combined with the other woman's help in simply /disintegrating/ the plants. The fourth, a wide-eyed dark-skinned teenager, is looking a /little/ wary about even being here. Staring off into the woods like he hopes to find something there. The last, tall and burly, is just waiting. "When have the authorities," says another voice, "ever paid much attention to what happens to a bunch of freaks?" And then, suddenly, there is a BAMF. The signature sound is accompanied with the scent of sulphur -- a slight growl -- and a *SNKT*. Three figures now stand in the woods, not far from JimTree; long wisps of purple-black smoke curl off their shoulders and heads. The central figure is a dark blue devil with blood-red eyes, a long, spade-tipped tail, and a frown -- he is dressed in a sharp gray sports jacket, a vest, and a white frilled shirt beneath, with black dress-slacks. Holding his hand to the left is a woman with dark hair tied up in a pony-tail, wearing a comfortable blouse and jeans -- holding his hand to the right is a muscular, grumpy looking jerk with shaggy hair, facial stubble, a white sleeveless shirt, jeans, and a set of three gleaming metal claws that just extended from his free hands knuckles. Logan takes one sniff, before: Tell Capn Picard. Fullscale attack. Get the kids out. Bastian, with me. Nightcrawler vanishes with another BAMF, the air collapsing into the vacant space he leaves in his wake -- only to reappear with another BAMF directly behind Faelan; Jean steps forward, hands clenched into fists, brows crumpled together -- both in silent communication and preparing Logan steps forward toward the group of five; another *SNKT*, another set of claws. His face splits into a feral, semi-fanged grin, speaking to the woman who just addressed Kisha: "Oh, no, bub. You dont know the half of it. You done picked the wrong boarding school to fuck with." The kudzu causes Ghost to squirm a bit, but when the five figures come and start..doing their /evil/ or whatever, Ghost is rapidly hitting her panic button again. And attempting to again, before she fumbles and drops her phone to the ground, in her immense panic. "What..do you want with us? We're just students, we didn't do anything wrong.". Ghost is taking a deep breath, though her eyes are incredibly wide, as she tries to..negotiate? "Please don't hurt us, please, please." Hopefully help is on it's way, right? Something else is approaching the forest at this point, as well, as Ghost looks to the familiar figures, hope in her eyes. << Am I still here I don't know are /you/ still here? >> There's definite panic, sharp and terrified, in Horus's voice. There's a flutter of wings in the air, Horus flitting unhappily-blindly a few feet off the ground with a panicked /squawk/ at the sudden feel of -- heat /somewhere/ nearby. Somewhere. << Ducky-ducky be here don't-die. Woooah is that a teacher did a teacher say fuck? >> There are animals creeping out from the woods, in -- considerably large numbers. Squirrels, quite a lot of them. A quartet of foxes. A flurry of mice. A few raccoons. A number of rabbits. A bevy of plump rats. This odd horde is scurrying in towards the uncomfortable-looking teenager, but when the teachers arrive it starts to reroute towards /her/ instead. Many of them, at least. Dozens of the rats start to swarm in up against her legs, all tiny claws and suddenly /chompy/ sharp teeth beneath clothing. The rabbits have mostly meanwhile started looking confused. The boy looks disappointed. The squirrels at least are flooding closer. As the heat washes forward, the ground rises into a smooth wall in front of the group of students, smelling like earth as the fire washes into it and scorches the leaves and dirt and fallen kudzu. It flings itself forward a moment later, spraying warm dirt and embers over the intruders. << Students, please make your way backwards and out of the line of fire. We will take care of these intruders. >> Professor Grey's voice echos in the minds of the Xavier's students and faculty, and out loud a moment later as she squeaks. "Rats!" Flinging her hands downwards, she begins peeling each of them off and hurling them away from her with snaps of telekenesis. In the distance, there is the sound of thunder. Logan doesn't think; he charges. Straight for the woman spewing out a blast of heat and flame -- his claws sweeping out to either side as he aims to bodyslam her to the ground. He takes as much of the fire as he can, straight in the face, the chest, the shoulders -- just soaking up all the damage he can manage. His initial roar becomes a snarling shriek; flesh bubbles, burns, and smolders -- but hell if Logan cares. Luckily for the woman, he isn't aiming to slam those claws into her flesh -- just tackle her to the ground as hard as he can. And slam the claws down on either side of her head, to try and pin her beneath him. Before beginning to just headbutt' the crap out of her. "Jim," Logan croaks, voice hoarse, half burnt away. "Vines--" The flesh that's sizzling away is already in the process of reknitting. Kurt, meanwhile, finds Faelan has already vanished -- his arms swooping forward to catch someone who isn't there! Knowing how the boy's powers work, he does a quick scan -- before -- BAMF, right behind Kisha. "Relax," Nightcrawler announces to her, reaching to wrap his arms around her waist. Plants harbor none of the nerve-recoil reflexes of vertebrates; they don't writhe or twist in pain as they fall away to dust or are hacked. The eerie snow of cherry blossoms upon the tableau does not make the scene any better. For the moment, there's no further aggression from the plantlife, no movement at all from the tree itself, and what parts of the kudzu have not been damaged or hacked away remain sedate and lay low. In the clearing, anyway. Towards the edges, they've begun to subtly... expand instead; enveloping surrounding trees, coiling around the low shrubs of brush and flowing on like an emerald mist clung low to the ground. Slithering. Gripping. Any animal life, too. Just a WAVE of it. Nom. There's a sound, from the depth of the tree then. A soft creaking of wood. Rhythmic. Almost like /strained breathing/ at the sound of Logan's voice. Ducky whimpers and attempts to climb higher in the Jim-tree, scrambling blindly for handholds on the squat tree, thoughts of hiding amidst the foliage echoing in her mind. Thankfully she is fairly light and nimble for a teen, and she pulls herself up to the first low hanging branch she can find, and then the next, bird-influenced mind telling her to get higher and hide. << I'm here. Still here. Not dead. S'ok, >> she responds to Horus, obviously scared, though she whimpers and cringes from the sudden fire and heat assaulting her as she climbs higher. << Sending you Stubborn. She'll help. She can see, can get you to safety. Safe and away from here. Please be safe, please. I'll be okay. >> As she says this, a sizable black bird breaks from the edge of the clearing and comes to hover beside Horus, offering guidance and a bit of a loaned sense of sight - if with a bit of sarcasm and squawking. The sudden appearance of the tasty little morsels in the form of rodents and bunnies, however, elicits a more primal reaction from Ducky's flock. The unkindness of ravens that had followed her in are decidedly opportunistic. And along with a pair of newly arrived kites, make a dive for the sudden buffet, fending off some before they get to the assisting teachers. Slowly, people's vision is beginning to return, blurring fading back to let the world into crispness again. The rubbery young man is reaching out again, stretchy-long arms snapping towards Ducky to start coiling around her and try to /drag/ her down fron the heights of Jimtree, the ropy coils of his distorted body yanking back through the foliage. The short-squat redhead is reaching a hand for Nightcrawler, though. Not to try and grab him, though. Just, as he reaches, the fuzzy blue elf simply /freezes/ in place, the entire area around him and Kisha frozen -- it'll only last a few seconds. Long enough for that group of foxes to be directed that way. Mmmmmmchomp? "Well, well, I didn't know you wanted to play, little one," The fire breathing woman laughs as she is driven to the ground with a loud thud. Her hands come up to run down Logan's back once, then dig into his sides as she attempts to wrench him to the side and off of her, legs pushing off of the ground to provide extra leverage. "You should have /asked/ first," she growls, and that same fire bubbles up out of her once more, spraying with flaming heat right into the face in front of her. << Safe over here Ms Grey >> Faelan's mind responds as his vision starts coming back and looking around the forest area he sees around him. Still hearing the sounds of conflict, he can tell its still close though. The surge of animals towards the area and the riling kudzu makes him second guess himself, and he actually heads back towards the fray at a sprint, invisible feet trodding through forest paths with the sure footing of long practice. <<Need me to evac?>> Creak. Creak. Slow, steady, /forced/, Ducky would feel the deep hidden pulse inside the Jimtree clenching plant-fiber and releasing it again, working it into muscle-fiber. His branches are thick, capable of supporting her weight. To the far parameters, the invaded forests make a sudden /squeal/ of strained wood beneath the kudzu. Some single abrupt YANK ripping the life force from them -- And a gnarled-rough hand thrusts out from the Hexxus tree, laced with sharp thorns and spearing fingers snaps back, /latch/ for the rubbery arm grasping after Ducky. And yanks right BACK. The tree beneath Ducky begins to rise up with a shower of bark and broken moss. Mmmchomp is right. Perhaps not for the foxes, though. Sebastian /lunges/, when they start to head towards Kisha and Kurt. With a deep guttural snarl, a short /snap/ crack, and -- there are abruptly a few very broken-necked foxes crumpling to the ground and one bloody-mawed shark choplicking crouched beside. "NRRARGH." Logan takes a face-full of flame; his features begin to froth and boil. It's probably a good thing the students can't see the horror up close -- his left eyeball exploding, bursting with a wet *SPLRT*, sizzling juices smearing with blood down the length of his face -- long strips of flesh scorched from his cheeks, exposing clenched teeth, elongated fangs -- giving him the appearance of a frightful grin. His hair burns and smolders; wisps of flame emerge from the back of his head. But as flesh and muscle give way to expose bone, the woman might notice something very unusual... that what should be scorched and blackened is instead gleaming and metallic -- exposed bone shimmering like quicksilver. "Shhrhrh," Logan responds through melting lips, his ruined face spasming as he's thrown off the woman -- but not before he slams a length of claws down for her shoulder. Attempting to bite into some meat. Getoverhere. Even through the horrific facial mutilation, she probably can't throw off the impression that he might be grinning. "Watch out!" Kisha yells as a familiar voice speaks up behind her, close enough to trigger Bobs attack response. And then the joyous return of sight! The freezing kicks in just before Bob can start to pummel Kurt in the face. Using her thought controls she fires a rapid series of commands, deselect Kurt as hostile select short-squat redhead as primary target for application of tool number sixty four. Heavy duty rivet gun. Kurt, meanwhile, is frozen -- briefly locked in place as a horde of foxes rush toward him and Kisha. They're beginning to bite and snarl and chomp at the two of them -- just as Sebastian leaps into the fray. At which point, Kurt is very quickly teleporting OUT of here, with Kisha -- but minus any foxes -- teleporting a good 15 yards away, from the heart of the conflict. As the arm stretches out at the student, Benjamin is moving. He knows that the..tree probably has it handled, but better safe than sorry. He's fighting through the vines below himself, as his nailclaws begin to extend, fanged teeth showing. "You've come to the wrong fucking neigherborhood.". And he's going in to tackle the man with the stretchy limbs using his claws, to protect Ducky and the Hexxus tree, loud growling. Just as Ducky's vision is beginning to recover, there is a... noodly appendage reaching for her through the folliage. The young woman lets out a terrified yelp, srambling back and finding the thickest, most protected area of the crown. "No!" she hisses, clinging tight to the branches, her attention focused soley on the squirming appendage attempting to reach her - and with this attention comes the focus of the swarm of birds. Angry birds, you might say. The murmuration of starlings, sparrows, and jays that had been circling angrily over the girl descends on the limb, pecking and scratching, digging tiny claws in and snapping with strong beaks at the exposed flesh. Nearly a hundred of the small birds descend as one angry cloud of twittering grump. And then the Jim-Tree begins to rise beneath her; Ducky's attention is far too tied up in her protective swarm, and she instead sinks to the strong branches, crouching low and letting out a squeaking growl as she maintains her balance. Lyric is still crouched down by the base of the Jimtree, only daring to uncurl from her rocking position now that her eyes are back to functional. If /blurry/ still -- not from any mutation but from the tears in them. She creeps backwards, back pressed up not against Jim but against just a normal tree, drums still clutched in her hands. The man's other arm whips out, hard and /sharp/ to thwap against Benjamin. Tackling him proves difficult, body warping and shifting out of the /way/, remolding itself neatly. There's pain in his face, though, one long-distorted arm kind of -- impaled against Jim. He tug-pulls at it. Twists it into odd coils of rope. Kind of snaaakes it out in the process, part of it looping in and around Lyric on the ground while he's at it. HELLO. It's kind of like a python. The woman with the disintegrative touch has circled back in, now. Over towards Sebastian, fingers outstretched. Kind of /wiggling/ in almost cheerful beckoning, a faint -- grin? Grimace? on her face. There's a trail behind her of faintly withered grass. << I think we have it for the moment, Faelan, >> Jean's reply comes, smoothly, as she steps forward, raising her hands. The ground rises around her, wheelbarrow sized chunks of ground floating into the air as little dirt pieces fall off of them. Snapping her hands forward, Jean sends the earth at the decintigrating woman just as she pulls the ground out from beneath her, aiming to bury her in the ground. The thunder sounds again, closer this time, and a cold wind begins to blow stiffly through the trees. The sunny sky is quickly becoming not so, clouds rushing in from across the sky, black and large, charred marshmellows of rain just waiting to burst forth. Storm's voice calls across the field, loud and dark. "Lay down on the ground, and you may survive this foolish invasion," she commands, and a loud clap of thunder echoes through the trees, right on top of the flash of lightning up in the heavens. The teenager lies down. Like, /immediately/. Flat on the ground. Some of the animals lie down with him. Once Kurt has succeeded in porting out with Kisha, Lyric is his next target -- BAMF he goes, before appearing in a flash of sulphur and brimstone beside the young girl; he wastes no time as that python-like limb seeks to wrap around her leg, throwing an arm around her waist -- intent on BAMFing the hell out of here. With her. Probably to deposit her in the same safe spot that he's taken Kisha. The arm hits Benjamin /hard/, knocking him back. A slow growl, followed by blankness..and a comment. "We both fucking wish you didn't just do that.". The telepath(s) would notice a building stress, building anger, and then something. Benjamin's eyes turn red, bones reknitting himself painfully with a scream, and within a minute, he's gone. A giant black dog, larger than a wolf has taken his place, mist extruding from it's body. It doesn't speak, instead a large growl, as Barghest tries to tackle the polymorph again. This time, he's relentless, and his strength..well, it's probably not pleasant to get bit if it connects. Ghost is meanwhile just /sitting on the floor/. Quiet. Not moving. Maybe they won't notice her. They seem to be focused on the X-Men, after all. But, she's purple, they probably notice her. << Yes ma'am >> Faelan's mind responds as he skids to a stop at the edge of the clearing, close enough to provide aide if he can, but far enough to stay out of direct like of conflict. Keeping a tree between himself and scary people, he bites down on his lip to keep any involuntary reactions from escaping, hands flexing slowly to keep from freezing up. The lightning flashes in the sky however make him think that perhaps under a tree is such a lovely idea but there isn't that much better an idea, and he does crouch down though... don't wanna be the tall thing in a lightning storm. Bob the drone begins a delicate series of motions, opening the tool box and picking up the biggest and least friendly looking tool. One which clearly has an end you do not want pointing at people. Bob proceeds to point the rivet gun at Ms short-squat redhead and with a ker-thunk opens fire. It's not really built to be a weapon and who knows if it'll hit. Kisha meanwhile keeps low to the ground and begins making a tactical retreat. Slowly so she can maintain oversight of Bob and prevent any robo-rampages. At least that involve the 'good guys'. The fire breathing woman lets out a cry of pain as Logan's snkt's snkt into her shoulder. The cry of pain quickly turns to a laugh as she rolls over on top of him, grinning down into the man's melted face. "Metal underneath? That's no fun! Let's see what you really look lke!" She arches up and then breathes out a stream of fire, lashing briefly into the air before she aims it down towards the other man. The rubbery man is -- distorting quite a /bit/, now. Twisting, beneath the dog's attack and the birds' /pecking/ and where he's impaled against the tree, it's -- slowly getting harder to see the actual /person/-shape he once had/. His coils loosen and loosen, freeing Lyric eventually to let Kurt /have/ her; eventually his flailing ropey arm comes free of the Hexxus tree, too, and, writhing, he falls to the floor in a heap. A heap that finally /snaps/ back into a -- rather normal slim-built person-configuration, bloody and shaking and /staring/ up at the sky. "-- Oh fuck." The Jimtree rises, higher, lifting shoulders and head from their stooped posture over his knees until he is kneeling, sturdy mass not seeming aware of the girl still riding the branches speared out from his shoulders. Kudzu and moss shift, some is /absorbed/ into his body, some ripping away and stretched out to allow the movements. A center of mass suggesting a head slowly turns towards the rubbery figure, and where two deep pits are sunk side-by-side, a pair or faded blue eyes abruptly OPEN. Sweep with a blank-sharp assessment of the battle raging around him. And then rises further - and thrusts out an arm towards the fire-breathing woman's back. The arm extends. Rapidly. With a sharp spear at its point. Sebastian's gills flutter, his teeth bared towards the woman. His growl rumbles soft and low in his throat, and where he's crouched against the ground his claws dig down into the earth. Black eyes fix on the woman, dip down to the withering grass behind her. "You," he says softly. "Probably want to listen to that." There's a flutter of wings beside Ducky, a quiet twittering again. Horus is /joining/ Ducky on her /Ent/-perch. His mind is still panicked, but it's settled into a -- kind of /resignation/ with this, a decision to just /be/ panicked for now. OKAY PANIC IS HAPPENING. He's gonna /roll with it/. It is /panic time/. << Duckyducky, >> his mental panicvoice has decided to be a stage whisper, << have you noticed, woah, have you noticed /everything is a crazy/ why are these people a crazy look hide here okay. >> He's thrusting out a wing. Like it's a shelter. Here. Have feathers. They're warm and hidey. "--nnngh--" << tried, >> Logan tells Jean, his tone borderline apologetic; the rest of his face is being melted away -- exposing his grinning, fanged skull, his collarbone. The metal is starting to heat up. Through the maddening pain, he slams his claw tips up -- in concert with Jim -- aiming blindly for the chest. He assumes it is the chest, on account of no longer having eyes with which to see. The hairs on everyone's body and head begin to rise into the air as an almost oppressive tickle feels on her skin. The sound of the thunderclap comes on top of the blindingly bright flash in the air as a bolt of lightning lances down from the sky and onto the time stopping man's body, mid leap. It is unfortunate for him that he did not listen to Storm's warning, as several thousand volts ram through him on their way to the ground, tossing him to one side like a rag doll, clothes and body steaming. The Barghest is approaching the rubbery man, teeth bared (SO MANY TEETHS) and..watching. Waiting. Sitting, but prepared for anything. A low growl, instincts keen, sort of like watching a prisoner, as a sort of primal mental speech goes to Jean. << One down. More at campus after these. Who are they? >>. The disintegratey woman is sinking, rapidly, into the -- also disintegrating? earth, as Jean pulls it out from under her. With a growl of her own, she struggles, jerking at the ground around her where she's abruptly buried, chest-deep in earth that her powers have no effect on. The grass around her is withered; the rocks and dirt around her very much solid as she thrashes. Her hands reach for Sebastian, and then slam down uselessly against the earth. With a sharp exhale, her shoulders sink, and she slumps in, tired, where she is stuck. Ducky seems unsure of how to react to the order to get down, or the oncomming storm the roils over head. Once the rubberman retreats, settling back into a human shape, Ducky's murmuration recalls, dissipating into the sky as her terrified influence weakens, no longer fueled by self preservation instincts. A handful of her loyal birds: a raven, the kestrel, and a smattering of pigeons settle onto the branches around her, forming a little guard-bird group in the now shifting branches of the wakening Ent. Ducky crouches even lower to the branch, clinging desperately to it, her eyes closing again. When Horus arives, there's a sense of relief and also extreme worry, flooding out from the somewhat stuck student. << Horus. I don't know... it's not normal. Things aren't always this bad. Not here. Here is supposed to be safe. We're supposed to be safe here, >> Ducky mentally babbles, shifting to hide in the shelter of his offered wing. She can't bring herself to watch what is going on, even as their pearch shifts and moves in the combat. Horus tips his head down, looking at the stuck and unconscious people around them. And at the largely unharmed students. Puzzled, he glances back to Ducky. << -- Are safe, >> he points out, perplexed. << People came. They stopped. Isn't that safe? >> As the spear arches into her already wounded shoulder, the fire breathing woman lets out a quiet oof of pain and the smile melts off of her face. "Well, that hurts." She says, the first quiet thing that she had said. When Logan's claws drive into her chest, she passes out immediately on top of Logan, bleeding from several wounds and being generally messy, perhaps as a final fuck you. As things begin to calm down a bit, Faelan glances around now that the bright flash of light from a lightning bolt goes off. There is a zipper sound, and suddenly a white box flops down on the ground beside the tree, a big red plus sign on it. "Um, anyone who isn't evil need some bandages?" comes Faelan's voice from nearby. The box lifts back up, floating along without appearing like it's being held. It circles wide around the death patch of deathyness, scoots around the once noodly one and the caller of animals to float next to Jean. Logan, now little more than a metal skull with strips of burnt flesh clinging to it, slumps to the ground. It isn't long before sinew and meat begin crawling over its surface, steadily regenerating right before everyone's very eyes. Eww. "Well. That was entirely unpleasant," Kisha notes, recalling Bob before he can open fire again and potentially injure anyone. "Wait a moment. They are attacking the school." She blinks. "/My things/ are in there." There is a scowl and Bob begins to power ahead. Probably far to late to do anything important but gosh will any badguys hiding in the workshop be in for an unpleasant shock when he arrives.... Ducky peeks out at the scene below them, mind swimming a bit with bird chatter and responses, seeming to have trouble focusing on any one thing. "Are safe. Yes," she agrees quietly, glancing around, "We are. Safe." And she sort of just nestles back against the branch and closes her eyes again. "Just gonna sit here for a few... til the world stops spinning and being so woooshy. Yup, safe in a moving tree in a storm. Yup." she mutters, resting her head against the branch and falling quiet. Cherry blossoms continue to fall upon the bloody ground, laying down a speckling of delicate pink. And SwampThing Jim slowly sinks back onto his haunches where new root systems begin to shift and adjust off his legs, knuckling up and worming into the moist spring ground. For lack of heart or lungs, he's unwinded, not panting. Steady-eyed. But the stoop of his shoulders suggests exhaustion all the time. He glances only passingly up at the at the girl and birdboy sheltering in his branches. And seems to decide they're good enough where they are. Perhaps Ducky will find a thickening of kudzu and moss forming beneath her, to cushion the harsh texture of mis-matched treebark. Safety coming in all it's many shapes and sizes, resumed for now. | |
