Baltimore Battle: street

[deadman]

8:58 am.

An explosion of pure heat rocked the city street, sending screaming protesters into a flurry of panic. The heat had instantly turned a lot of the torrential rain into a sizzling steam in the area, but it continued to pour...

It was signal enough for Dead Man. He smiled so wide he couldn't help but giggle to himself.

Now the fun really begins.

At his mental command, five fully-covered, black clad undead charged from an alleyway. Behind them for a moment, then preceding them due to speed, three skeletal tigers, flesh nothing but leathery rot, dashed directly towards the police barricade.

The crowd members began to scream, and many trampled over themselves trying to get out of the way of the monstrosities – many simply fleeing in pure terror. Who could blame them? The covered figures moved in such an unnatural way, the sight of their charge was sickening. The tigers were clearly animated skeletons... with massive teeth and incredible claws.

The police opened fire, reports from shotguns and pistols filling the air like a cacophony of violence. The tigers took hits, parts of bone chipping off and dust kicking up where slugs ripped through their animated bodies – but only one took a shot straight to the forehead, and that one collapsed into a pile of brittle dust and bones.

The black-clad corpses were still runny, however, and when they got shot it seemed only to disturb their clothing. They stumbled and were blown off balance, but neither bled horribly nor ceased in their charge.

A few of the police broke ranks and fled. Those that didn't were met with a clash of murderous intent. The long-dead tigers descended onto the first couple cops, biting, clawing, and ripping to shreds. Blood sprayed, and screams of agony echoed voluminously. Their comrades drew beads on the tigers, and shot them to pieces with a rain of bullets. They brought their firearms up in time to begin shooting the leaping, black-clad second wave. These five jumped with enhanced strength, sailing over the barricade and over cars, falling into the police with vicious punching and tearing.

It was chaos.

[Jane]

Jane had twisted her wrist 6,755 times when the warehouse burst into flames in a cacophany of shattered class and the sheer noise of so much heat escaping.

She knew.

She'd counted.

Her entire frame tensed as the heat hit her, moving just behind the sound and sudden red-orange light, sewers and manholes pouring steam in the streets as the civilians and protesters began to scream, drilling a hole just behind both Jane's temples with their shrillness. Just before Jane could scream the instinctive what the fuck? into her communicator, it became very clear what the fuck was.

She raised her hands slowly, pushing with all of the power cased in her fragile form, and the trees in front of NovaTeX suddenly weren't trees anymore. At least, the ten evenly-spaced oaks that lined the walk up to the front gates weren't. They shuddered, a few leaves drifting to the ground, and began to grow, shucking their bark like snakeskin as they moved and swelled. Her fingers splayed out from her palms and the branches separated thickly, clumps braiding and blending into each other, turning a darker green under the pale cream-green of raw bark.

Somewhere in the crowd, a theater major screamed "Oh my God, it's Audrey Two!"

Jane smiled as the fly traps bared their new teeth, a strange hissing noise almost drowned out by the crackle and roar of the flames emanating from their throats as their digestive tracts formed. And then, the most important, the hardest of all - reaction to stimuli.

Jane felt something she'd only felt before once in her life, in Chicago, when she'd been attacked and scared and hadn't realized what she'd done. The plants spoke into her mind, or maybe spoke to everyone, but she was the only one who could understand them.

Eat eat eat, they said, in tandem. Yummy yummy protein eat eat feed power strength crunch crunch.

Quickly, she spliced in bits of who the Brotherhood were to each of them, so they wouldn't try snapping at John or anyone while they were on the ground. They'd shy away from the heat naturally, but Python might not seem like such a bad snack until his venom started eating through their - could she really call them heads? - until it was too late. One of them snapped idly at one of the Dead Man's tigers, too, so she added in a don't eat dead things instinct as a finishing touch. It'd be a waste of time, anyway, once the civilians started piling up the streets.

A different Jane, one under normal circumstances, would've gagged at the thought, but something deep within her was lending her strength now, and she could feel her heartbeat accelerate even more, tacking furiously in her chest, and her eyes sharpened, her lips suddenly turning upwards in a gleeful smile.

And quite without reason, she started to giggle.

Damn but this still felt good.

"Eat your veggies, fuckers!" she shouted at the crowd, clambering up on the dumpster next to Dead Man, all fear of him quite forgotten. "Mother Nature loves you!"

[Juggers]

"And so," the Juggernaut continued his story to the terrified restaurant owners, "I had to beat the fuckers to death with their own shoes." Mr. Chang nodded as if he could sympathise with exactly how Cain had reacted. Inside he was weeping.

It hadn't taken Cain long to eat his fill of Chinese food; it'd never really been a favourite, but when opportunity knocked he was never one to pass up free eats.

The rain was still thrashing down unabated and the Juggernaut found himself wondering if there would be any protesters left when they finally went into action. The odd chunk of hail that found its way to earth amidst the deluge can't have been comfortable.

Unseasonable weather for Baltimore. To anybody other than the Juggernaut it might have registered as significant.

Then something outside exploded.

Violently.

Mr. and Mrs. Chang hit the floor whimpering, finally convinced that the hungry giant that had invaded their home had finally decided to destroy them. Happily for them Cain was far more interested in what was going on outside.

There was screaming.

And gun-shots.

And in the alley Jane was shouting.

Jane was shouting?

Cain grinned, jammed on his helmet and took the shortest route toward NovaTeX.

Brick, dust and kitchen utensils exploded into the street, showering fleeing civilians and rendering an unfortunate policeman unconscious. Complete havoc seemed to have erupted outside the gates and it was all happening without him.

Cain watched as bespectacled man with a briefcase was dragged into the air by a B-movie monster. He dangled their by his ankle for a moment, screaming himself hoarse before the creature flipped him like a toy and closed its jaws around his torso.

The screaming stopped very abruptly.

"You go girl!" The Juggernaut enthused.

Several police cars were parked along the street, their blue and red lights winking in the twilight gloom of the storm like beacons. Cain strolled casually up to one, seized the chassis and hoisted it into the air.

The NovaTeX gates were still closed.

With a grin he hurled his four-wheeled projectile at the offending barrier which crumpled obligingly.

"Knock knock!" He yelled at the chaotic line of battle-locked security forces. "The fuckin' Brotherhood's 'ere!!"

[Iceman]

‘Holy. Shit. Holy. Shit. Holy—‘

The explosion was massive, and even as Bobby whirled around, he knew what he would see. He knew that this was it, that it had started. The Brotherhood was there. John. Was there. That was John’s fire consuming that warehouse. All at once, every lingering happy thought Bobby’s conversation with Warren had given him vanished. All of his muscles clenched, and fierce anger roared to life in his chest.

Bobby immediately began to move. Even as the crowd screamed and burst into tears and surged away from the buildings, Bobby pushed forward. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it aside as the panicking crowd jostled him, his leather suit bared underneath. He tapped his comm button once and as he spoke, he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Suddenly the in cognito idea was real bullshit. They shouldn’t have bothered; this was wasting time.

[glow=red,2,300]“I’m going into the warehouse.” [/glow]

Pulling off his jeans, Bobby left his clothes in the middle of the sidewalk and started running at the building. He heard something unexpected behind him, and he craned his head over his shoulder to look as he ran. What he saw made him turn sharply, stumbling a bit with his sudden awkward stop. The sickest tigers Bobby had ever seen were charging at the crowd through the pouring rain. It took Bobby longer to realize that there were five black-clad people with the tigers. As he watched, all of them attacked the police who had been shoving the civilians away and yelling for them to get out.

Gunshots filled the air, and Bobby’s stomach was tied in knots with the scene of utter chaos as he started to move again. What the hell was he supposed to focus on? Where was he needed most? But he knew that there were other X-Men who would start in on that fight. He was one of the only ones who could put out the flames in the burning building.

But even as he turned, something more caught his eye. He was so shocked already that he didn’t give himself but one few seconds to dwell on them. On the huge Venus Flytrap-looking things coming at the crowd. It was almost too much—If this had been a movie, Bobby would have doubled over in laughter at the lameness of the choice of monsters. But this was real, and as he watched one of them grab a man in a suit and toss him into the air. Into it’s mouth. Bobby made the mistake of looking at the man’s face as the giant thing snapped its jaws around his torso. Bobby felt his throat spasm, as thought to vomit, and he turned away. The man’s face was imprinted in the darkness of his mind. He would watch that man die every night in his sleep for weeks to come. But right then, he had to get to the warehouse.

But before he could move toward the remainder of the crowd, he caught sight of a cop racing in his direction. He watched as the cop held out his gun and fired shots. It looked like the man was shooting straight at Bobby. The same instant the man fired, a dead tiger leapt onto him from the side, taking him down and tearing at him with massive claws.

But Bobby didn’t give one second to watch the policeman’s fate. There were hordes of people behind him, and now that he had to make a choice, he knew that he had to get them out before they could be attacked. This would save more lives in the end.

After ducking and instinctively creating a shield of ice in front of him in case the bullets were meant from him, he stood and turned to the crowd. “MOVE! GO! MOVE!” He began to yell at them, waving his arms and gently but firmly taking people by the shoulders and turning them away. “This is dangerous! Everyone needs to get out of here, NOW!” Most of those who hadn’t run right away began to do so then.

And somewhere, a woman was screaming overtop of all the other yells and sounds. People were shouting for help behind him, and he turned wildly around for the source of the noise. A woman was on the ground, farther away from the chaos, people rushing around her. Bobby’s stomach dropped as a thought occurred to him. An innocent bystander must have been shot. Yet another person who was not involved, and did not deserve to die over this.

Bobby pressed his comm button again as he moved forward.

[glow=red,2,300]“There are dead tigers and...and big…plant things attacking the police force and civilians. Somebody take them out AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! Repeat, threats immediately outside the building.”[/glow]

Bobby knew how ridiculous that sounded. It was insane, it was all completely insane. But it was happening.

As he spoke in the communication device, Bobby ran forward, toward the hysterical group forming around the wounded woman. He shoved past people and knelt beside the woman. “Move. Is she hurt?” As people turned their attention on him, they saw his uniform and maybe even recognized his face from the news. They moved out of the way quickly, some of them backing farther than necessary with their eyes on him distrustfully or in awe. He didn’t need an answer to his question, however; blood stained the woman’s shirtsleeve and ran down her arm, staining along the length of her shirt as well. She’d been shot in the arm, probably with a regular bullet (he didn’t want to think what mutant powers might have shot God knows what into her—he hoped to God it was a bullet).

Blood trickled down the side of her face, from her hairline. Bobby lifted her upper half up, moving closer so that she leaned against his legs. It was an awkward position, one in which he had to wrap his arms around her, one in front and one behind her back, to reach her injured arm. But he wasn’t a doctor. And they needed to move her, as soon as fucking possible.

“What happened?” He asked quickly, glanced up at those on the other side of her. Finally someone spoke, overcoming her surprise and/or fear.

“She got shot, and then she fell. I think it was a cop. They were aiming at some girl who was over here.”

“A girl? Was she fighting?” Bobby asked as he stared at the wound—stop the bleeding. He didn’t have any clothing he could take off. “I need something to stop the bleeding. A shirt, a jacket. Something.”

Another civilian began to tear off their jacket. He wadded it into a ball and handed it to Bobby quickly as the other woman spoke. “Uh, I don’t think so. But she was with people who were. This lady was running over to the girl when she got hit.”

Bobby pressed the jacket onto the woman’s arm, holding it down tightly, watching her face. Her eyes were fluttering to stay open as tears ran down her face. As he examined her head, he saw that much of her dark hair seemed wet. His heart constricted, and he reached for her hair. He ran his fingers along it, and when he looked at his hand, his fear was confirmed. His hand was streaked with blood. Which could only mean that she’d cracked her skull.

“That’s that girl!” Suddenly someone else, a teenager that couldn’t have been older than Bobby, crouched down beside the woman. Bobby whipped his head around to look. Getting the woman to safety, and then getting her medical attention, was most important. But if there was a member of The Brotherhood coming at him, then he and the woman and everyone around them needed to move fast.

(ooc: Don't bother Iceman. He has plans with Angie immediately following. Kthnxbye.)

[forge]

Forge threw his hands up to deflect some of the heat from the explosion, and lowered them, staring like all the other dumb-struck civvies at the massive fire burning in the warehouse.

He saw clearly the .... tigers?... rush out of the alleyway, followed by the five ninja looking guys, who moved like a bunch of strange mutants. In fact, he saw clearly everything in a 360 degree arc around him. A fraction of his senses were put into his very clothes, which were wired using very fine copper, for that very purpose. He could see out of every inch of his clothes. Back, front, forward, up, down. It would be so disorienting to anyone else that they'd likely pass out – but Forge had practiced the power stunt countless times.

The tigers were killing cops.

Forge immediately dropped to a crouch, unzipping the duffle-bag he had carried with him. Drawing the massive cannon he'd made the day before, he checked it internally for function and ammo, and used his power to draw the safety off. This was it. Crunch time.

The crowd surged and screamed all around him, the panic of pure chaos – the terror brought on only by fear of sudden, impending doom – was palpable in the air. Screams of pain, of horror, of simple insanity were a chorus from hell in the air.

Then the plants rose. Looking like that damn plant from Little Shop, they grew to a massive size... and began to consume the people around them.

What the hell kind of mutant powers were these? Skeletal tigers? Giant Fly-traps? This was something out of a bad horror movie...

“Someone tapped a shitload of green and black mana...” He mumbled, not even aware he'd made the bad joke.

He was too close to the plants. One of the lashed out at him and he barely scrambled away in time... he only vaguely registered Bobby screaming through the communicator. He was busy leaping and dodging, only avoiding the hungry consumption of the living vegetables by inches. Finally he dived over a parked sedan, the side of which was destroyed instantly by a marauding plantlife.

Standing, his wits were quickly coming back to him... he aimed the cannon... A bright yellow beam crackled out of his weapon, cutting through the air with the sound of a downed power-line. It cut into the plant that was attempting to make him lunch like a giant pruning shear, and dropped the thing in half at the base.

“Ha-ha! Eat that you broccoli-lookin' sonofabitch! You're mother was a head of -” He leapt back again as the plant didn't seem to be dead yet. It thrashed with vivid life, completely destroying the car he'd been hiding behind.

He fired again and again, attempting to chop the thing to pieces.

[glow=red,2,300]"Sweet Jesus, X-Men, this is a shit-fest! Iceman, see if you can't put that fire out, Wolverine, Colossus, try and save those cops! Chamber, Storm – these plants have GOT to go!"[/glow]

Forge wasn't trying to be Captain Leader Man or anything, but it sort of fell back on him from his military days... only the incidents he'd been in that inspired the movie: Black Hawk Down, were nothing compared to this.

A car was flung at the gates with supernatural force... The Juggernaut was on the scene.

“Ah shit...” Forge murmured, and was secretly happy he didn't have time to tangle with that unstoppable brute currently.

[Nightingale]

Tick. Tick. Tick. The seconds counted down on her watch, and Angie had long since put Catch-22 on the ground next to her in favour of worrying. John had run off before she could give it back to him, and she didn't have pockets big enough - she was going to try to come back for it later. Before she could give the signal, a far more effective one rang out from the warehouse - a sound of a massive explosion. She could only assume that Pyro had done what he did best, and was destroying the cure. With a smile, she ran forward with the rest of the Brotherhood, watching with a grin as Jane brought the very greenery around them to fight on their behalf. We are the future, not you! Dead Man was sending his army - a macabre and creepfying army, but an army all the same - to fight, and there was chaos.

"Eat your veggies, fuckers!" Jane was shouting from up on the dumpster next to Dead Man, "Mother Nature loves you!" Angie was darting around, watching and waiting and getting ready to dart in and touch them if they needed her help - but so far everything was going well. She wished for a moment that her power was more offensive, that she could do something to help, something to fight.

"Knock knock!" Juggernaut was yelling, throwing a car at the gates. "The fuckin' Brotherhood's 'ere!!" Angie ducked as shots rang out in their direction, startled by the noise. That surprise was nothing, though, in comparison to how startled she was when someone came up behind her and grabbed her, wrenching her arm and pulling it behind her.

[logan]

“Yeah, yeah, bub, like you gotta tell me...” Wolverine said under his breath, brushing off Forge's shouting tactics. Logan of course acknowledged that the kid had leadership potential, as he was clearly organizing some kind of defense amidst this complete chaos, but Logan was an old dog in a new fight – didn't matter to him what his enemies were made of.

He turned to Rayen, “Stay down – this is getting' ugly! Fry something if you get the chance!”

Then with a feral roar he charged into the pack of policeman and their black-clad attackers. Leaping onto the hood of a car, his adamantium claws buried themselves deep into the chest of turning assailant. Drawing them out, Logan uppercutted another of the strange mutants, ripping open his stomach.

He was lost in a red battle haze... tuned out to the chaos around him, concentrating only his enemies... only as he'd spun into a horizontal slash on the third of the attackers, he noticed the first two never went down.

These guys regenerate?

They left him little time to ponder. The one behind him punched him square in the back, the power it generated was unnatural. Logan flew forward, off the car, but was caught mid air by another of the black-clad freakshows. It slammed him brutally into the hood of the vehicle, and then all five were on him, ripping and clawing with their fingers, smashing his flesh with sledge-hammer like fists.

What the hell is this?

He really lost it then, savagely slashing any which way he could, taking limbs and slashing chests, but not slowing them down... they seemed impervious to damage. Wolverine was actually panicked. This had gotten really out of hand.

Finally a slash out lobbed the head of one of them into three neat slabs, like cartoon steaks. The... creature... fell backwards, completely limp, and it's head pieces hit the pavement with meaty smacks.

Logan didn't need a second lesson. He slashed ferociously, chopping at the heads of the things, and bringing them down as he did so... only head shots seemed to work.

What the hell are they?

A blast fired from behind him, and Wolverine (for the second time) was blown forward into the police car. Turning around, coughing with the pain, he saw a policeman with a shotgun. Only, the policeman's neck was completely torn out...

Logan's eyes widened as the man opened his mouth, a pitiable look of sadness on the cop's face...

“Killllll meee....” The man said as he pumped another round into the shotgun. “Pleeeasssee...”

Wolverine barely rolled out of the way the screaming (out of misery) policeman fired another blast, blowing the windshield of the car out.

Logan had been through some seriously strange and brutal things in his time. He was even sure that he'd been through three times as many in the memories he couldn't unlock... but he was sure – nay, absolutely positive – that this was the single most disturbing thing he'd ever seen.

[Iceman]

Bobby was surprised to see that it was really a girl. She looked about fifteen. He felt his heart harden towards The Brotherhood—How could they recruit someone so young? The girl probably didn’t even know what they were doing at NovaTex. She wasn’t facing them, but she was still too close by for comfort.

Bobby turned back to the group on the other side of the woman. It was quickly dwindling as people gave up on helping the woman and ran. They probably thought that she was in good hands, with one of the X-Men. Bobby had basic medical training. He did not consider himself to be able to deal with this. He didn’t even have time—He had to help the others protect the building. “Okay, I need you to take her. That way,” he said to those still remaining, nodding his head down the sidewalk away from the building. “Keep carrying her either until ambulances show up, or you get a couple blocks down and can get out of sight. Then call an ambulance. Stay with her until an ambulance shows up, alright? You have to stay with her.” He stared at each of them in turn as he spoke. They nodded, and he started to hand her over to four of them.

“Be careful with her head—I think she cracked her skull,” he said, then stopped. Be careful…What did that mean? Should they hold her neck? Should they put pressure on the wound? Or should they make sure not to touch her head? He felt overwhelmed—He was not the person who should be dealing with this.

“Once you get somewhere where you can lay her down, find the wound on her head and use clothing to put pressure on it, okay? Can you do that?” He supported her as they all stood, their arms under the woman’s body. He felt a hand grasping at him, and he looked down. Following his eyes up the arm to the body connected, he saw the woman staring at him with eyes red from crying. Her lips moved, then she coughed.

Bobby moved close to her head, fighting back his fear and his sadness. He hoped he looked calmer than he felt. “Ma’am, they’re going to take you to an ambulance, okay? You are going to be fine, I just need you to stay still. Don’t move your head, okay?” But even as he spoke, the woman started to speak to him.

“My—daughter…” Bobby’s eyebrows knitted together, and he moved his head closer to her mouth.

“Excuse me?”

“Angie…I saw—“ She was interrupted by a sob. “My daughter.”

The man who had given Bobby his jacket (and was now holding it wrapped around the woman’s arm) spoke up. “She was yelling to that girl. I think she called her Angie.”

Bobby turned to look to where the girl had been. She was still there. His jaw set. He turned back to the group. “Go, take her down there. Remember, don’t stop until you see an ambulance or until you get far away and out of sight. Stay with her.” Even as he finished, he started moving, to get them to start off. He stopped and they kept going, and after watching them for a moment, he turned. He moved to the girl, still hanging back for whatever reason. When he came up behind her, he grabbed her arm as tightly as he could, making no effort to be gentle. If what the people were telling him was true, she was an enemy.

He didn’t know what her powers were, but it didn’t even cross his mind that she could attack him or kill him because of how close he was to her, or because he’d touched her, or any endless number of things. She was one of the ones responsible for that woman’s injury, and it seemed like she might be the woman’s daughter. As soon as he grabbed her arm, he looped his other arm through hers at the elbow, pulling it behind her as well.

[Iceman]

"What the... Who are you? Don't touch me!" Her voice was more than a little panicked but she realised he was wearing leather, so there was no skin contact. Yet. There was no-one else around them, all the Brotherhood had moved, and she had no-one to help her. Angie was not experienced in fighting, and she was too small to make a difference. She tried to kick him anyway.

Bobby felt her leg swing back and kick him in the shin, and he stepped back as he pulled her around, staying behind her. The distance he put between their legs so she’d have a harder time kicking him made her have to lean back as he maintained his grip on her arms. He knew she’d probably get a good enough look at him soon to see that he was one of the X-Men—Even if she didn’t, she’d probably figure it out from the way he spoke to her, and what he said.

“You see that woman?” He said, his head next to hers and nodding in the direction of the small group carrying the wounded woman away. He spoke harshly to her. “She might die because of you. Because she decided to walk past this building when you and the rest of The Brotherhood decided to attack it. What the hell right do you have, to hurt innocent people?”

She squinted at the group, seeing a familiar feature that made her stomach drop. But who the hell was this guy to speak to her like that? He had NO idea what was going on, no clue about it all. And his face was much too close to hers, their cheeks almost touching. She twisted and leaned away from him.

"She's not innocent. And I'm not hurting anyone, you arsehole. You think they'd let you go free? That woman," she almost spat the word, "wanted to force me into getting the cure. I thought she'd left the country months ago. Let go of me!"

Bobby was surprised to hear her give so much information about the woman. It was impossible to digest, with so many things on his mind. But he did make the connection that the woman must have been right in saying that this girl was her daughter. As she fought against him more fiercely, he wrapped his arms tighter around hers. She didn't seem to have any defensive powers...Or she was hiding them for now. "She was calling your name when she got shot. Just because someone wishes you weren't a mutant doesn't mean that they should die."

Bobby looked around wildly, then started to move, following the group as they slowly and carefully carried the woman down the street. "Come here," he said forcefully, dragging her if she wouldn't walk on her own.

She wanted to elbow him in the stomach but he had her arms wrapped tightly in his, and there was nothing she could do to get out of his grip. When he told her that her mother had been shot, her teeth clenched involuntarily, but Angie didn't say anything. "She thinks that there's something wrong with us. She's been trying to find a cure for years... I can't be who she wants me to be, just because she wants it. And I didn't shoot her, so will you fucking let me go?" He was dragging her along after her mother, and Angie could hear a moan. "She's a doctor, take her back to the centre and they'll fix her up. She's one of them." She was beginning to get a headache from scowling, and she was already tired from doing her part. "Ugh, get off me already!" She tried to kick him again.

She was getting really difficult to hold onto, and Bobby felt his grip loosening. Finally, he let some of his anger flow through as he let go of her arm with one hand and put his hand on the front of her neck as though to choke her. He didn't want to hurt her, but he hoped he could scare her so she'd stop fighting him. But instead of a burning feeling in his chest, he felt a cold one. The freeze spread to his arms, and soon his hands were covered by ice. Which would have been extremely cold on her neck, and would cause damage if left there for very long. "If I freeze your neck, you'll be injured permanently. Now either you're going to go see that woman up close, or I'm going to knock you out and hand you over to the cops." He spoke evenly, his breath hanging in the air from the freeze that his anger had stirred up.

As he took one hand away from her arms, Angie prepared to elbow him in the stomach, but he'd put one of his hands on her neck and she froze. Which was strange, because so did he, only he did it literally, and her neck began to hurt, burning in response to the cold. That wasn't all that happened, though - she could feel her energy flowing into him, much faster than she usually allowed it to, but she had no control over the amount of skin contact. She closed her eyes for a moment before speaking, feeling her strength ebb.
"You're hurting me, you need to take your hand off my skin. If you hand me to the cops, I won't be able to stop them from touching me, and if they touch me too much... I could die. Please, let go of my neck." Her tone was, strangely, less panicked than before, although there was a very real threat to her wellbeing.

Bobby listened to her panicked plea, his frown growing suspicious and confused. He felt his tiredness fading away, but he shoved it aside as being his imagination. He took his hand off of her neck, but held it about an inch from her skin as he digested what she'd said. Was she like Rogue...Only backwards? Bobby stopped moving and turned his head to look at the side of her face.

"What are your powers?" he asked, his tone suspicious.

When his hand was gone from her neck, she breathed a sigh of relief, and somehow managed to keep herself from sagging visibly. It wasn't easy - she'd given a lot of herself, and had no chance for sleep or food until this was all done with - and there was every possibility that someone else was going to need her before then.

She wanted to be snappy at his question, but she turned her head to face him and gave him a look instead. "When people touch my skin, they take my energy. I can feel what's wrong with them, and it gets fixed." She put it in simplistic terms, as if speaking to a retarded six year old. "Nothing mental, though, only the physical stuff is fixed." She smirked at him as if to say 'Sorry about that, but I can't fix you.'

Bobby stared at her. "You can heal people?!" This was on one hand the best power she could have possibly had in that situation, but on the other hand, it made him even more angry that she had the power to heal her own mother and wouldn't.

Raising an eyebrow at him, and resisting the urge to say something like 'Isn't that what I just said, stupid? What's your power, being dim?' Angie simply nodded. "You just took a good bit of my strength, though - I kinda need it to, you know, live. And stuff. Can't give it all away, and it takes a while to come back. You don't happen to have a power bar hidden in there somewhere, do you?" She looked him up and down with another smirk.

Normally, Bobby was a very joking guy. Unfortunately, Angie would not be seeing that side of him, not today anyway. He made a very obviously faked smile which only held for about half a second, and voiced a false laugh. "You're funny," he said sarcastically as he started moving again, grabbing the arm he'd let go of. "Can you make it through healing one person?" he asked then, his voice losing it's bite and turning to business.

Rolling her eyes, Angie shot sarcasm straight back. "Depends on what's wrong with them, genius."

The urge to grab her neck again boiled up inside of him, but he managed to keep it back. "How about a cracked skull?" he asked as he continued to drag her. They were catching up with the group. He was relieved that she'd stopped fighting quite as much, but felt that she'd probably start again when she put two and two together and figured out what he wanted her to do.

Ever since she'd found out about her powers, Angie had wanted to help people. The problem came when she'd found out that she couldn't help everyone, not if she was going to have any concern for her own safety at the same time. This was pretty much the worst she'd been, and a cracked skull on top of the rest could be enough to push her over the edge and pass out. Or, it could be a simple matter. It depended on a few factors, and she wasn't familiar enough with her own limits to make a judgement.

"Is it bad? It depends on a few things, and if it's too bad I'm going to pass out. What's to stop you from handing me to the cops then, huh? Why should I help you?"

"Because if you're telling the truth about touch killing you, then I don't want to put you in that situation. That's the difference between The Brotherhood and The X-Men. We don't murder unless we have to." Bobby made his opinion of The Brotherhood very clear.

Bobby stopped again, suddenly. "Can you help her as much as you can? If you won't try, I'm going to let you go and give you time to get out of here. And if I see you again, I'll do exactly what I said I would." He hated being so threatening; he'd never acted this way in his life. Funny how war changes people.

His words made her roll her eyes. She'd heard about Alcatraz, she knew that a lot of people had died there. "At least the Brotherhood isn't sitting around letting them turn us all into what they think we should be." All these X-men seemed to do was protect the people who were trying to give out the cure. How many of those getting cured were there because of pressure from others, because the world didn't accept them for who they were? How many were like her, being forced into it because of someone else's fear?

"Fine, just let go of me, I need my hands free."

Bobby let go of her arms, but a moment later he grabbed her upper arm tightly in his hand. He walked beside her, his head leaning in to her to hiss one last thing before he got the group's attention. "If people are forcing others to get the cure, then they are wrong. But you're not killing those people. You aren't going to stop them from hating. You're killing people who want the cure, even people who are against it, like you," he said, referring to the large crowd that had gathered of protestors. "And don't preach to me about your parents not accepting you for being a mutant. I haven't spoken to my folks in two years, but you don't see me wanting them dead."

Without giving her time to respond, he called out to the group ahead. The people carrying the woman stopped and looked back at him as he stopped beside them. "She can help her," Bobby said, looking to Angie. Would she do it?

"I never said I wanted her dead." She hissed back. "But I will not let her force me into changing. There's nothing wrong with me." She didn't bother reiterating the point that she'd never killed anyone. She was a tiny seventeen year old girl with the power to save people - the idea that she was killing anyone was absurd. But he'd obviously made his mind up without any clue what she believed in, or why she was helping the Brotherhood. Pushing up one sleeve, even though she didn't need to, she reached down and put a single finger on her mother's cheek, feeling the exchange of energy and frowning. The head wound wasn't bad, but she could feel something foreign in Elizabeth's shoulder, and it was a bad injury. The bullet, no doubt. Looking back at the boy who had dragged her along, Angie glared at him. You'd have thought that the X-Men would get some kind of basic medical training. How is my idiot mother getting herself shot my fault? With a sigh, she muttered to herself.

"The gunshot wound is the worst of it." Before anyone could reply, she flattened her hand, her palm cupped around her mother's cheek and her energy flowing out of her. The head wound was fixed soon enough, skin knitting back together - everyone always thought head wounds were worse than they actually were, because they bled a lot. The bullet was a different matter, however, and she watched it work it's way out before taking her hand away.

The wound wasn't completely healed, but she was very close to passing out, so there was no more she could do. "She'll need medical attention, but at least she's..." Angie stumbled back and sat down heavily, leaning against a wall. Her head dropped forward and she sat back up quickly, but she was tired, so tired. She needed something to eat, or drink, or... She needed rest more than anything else, but there was no time for that.

Bobby quickly told the group to carry her as he'd told them before, then as they moved off he turned to Angie. He crouched down beside her, his voice much less harsh now that she had done something to help someone. He still spoke stiffly, but without as much anger as before. "The cure is a slippery slope. Anytime a medication is offered, there are people who will force others to take it. But it has to be offered, because for every one of those people, there are ten others who want it. Look, I don't agree with it either, but it's not right to kill over it."

Bobby looked at her closely. "Are you going to be okay?" He managed to sound concerned and still maintain the distant tone.

He could offer all the rationalisations in the world, and it wouldn't change the fact that people thought that a cure was needed. The whole idea of it implied that there was something wrong with them that could be cured, when it should be the other way around. Yeah, there were some people, like her, who had a mutation that was dangerous - to themselves, or to other people. And there were some people who would misuse their power - but that was the very nature of power, not only the kind that came from mutation. The fact was, though, that people should be adapting to mutations rather than making mutants adapt back to people. Everything could be dealt with, and there was no such thing as normal. She looked up at him under heavy eyelids.

"I'll be fine. I just need time." More time than she probably had, so she pushed herself up and started trying to walk back into the thick of things, bracing herself against the wall. Food or drink would be better than nothing, but she didn't have anything with her, and they weren't exactly in the part of town overrun by restaurants.

Bobby watched her stand, then stood himself. He followed her for a few steps, noting how much she relied on the wall. He thought about telling her that she ought to hang back, because not only did she have no defensive powers (that she'd shown him, anyway), but she was clearly exhausted. But he didn't say anything, because no matter if she'd healed her mother, she was still an enemy. He wasn't going to look out for her.

He walked past her and broke into a run, heading straight for the warehouse. He tried to brush the whole thing from his mind, to focus on what he would need to do there. There was clearly a substantial amount of damage, as well as fires that needed putting out and possibly even civilians who would need to be led out of the building.

Frowning still, and with a throbbing headache, Angie managed to get herself back into the building. A couple of vending machines had been overturned, and she dug out a chocolate bar and a sports drink, ducking around a corner and into a nook to recover her strength a little. Once she was finished, she fished out some more and filled her pockets, gripping a drink tightly. She had no idea what else she would need to do, but this time she would be prepared.

[Admin]

Explosions. Guns. Tigers. Tigers? Yes, tigers.

Psodeidon was beginning to hate this world of technology - of incorruptable substances and fleshless enemies. He understood guns, his father had had a gun, but Sy liked to use his hands, not depend on something outside himself to do the damage. So when something biotic finally sprung, he knew exactally where he would be most useful.

As ten gigantic venus fly traps formed from the existing trees, Sy smiled pushing the hat off his head with one quick movement and ripping the arms off his sleeves so he'd have some protection against anything human that tried to grab him. Already wet with rain, his body broke out in presperation, rivulets of acid running down between the green hairs, diluting with the rain that was still pelting him.

He gathered acid in his hands as he ran towards the plants, and flung it at the closest two in a spray that would pelt their heads and burn quickly through their green flesh. Ahhh the satisfaction of overpowering another living thing.

I am a God! he thought with a grin as he gathered more acid in his hands. Just let one of those plants bow down and grab him, his hands would burn right through it in no more than a moment, and its own acidic properties would glide off his skin like a slime and be wash away by the goddess of the rain.

[conduit]

Rayen watched Logan disappear into the crowd, blades swinging at the end of his arms like the tasmanian devil gave birth to a cuisinart. She barely had time to be impressed by that as the zombies and plants came from out of nowhere, and before she knew it, all was chaos.

For a moment, she didn't know what to do. She wanted to run, she wanted to fight, but she couldn't exactly go tackle one of those... tiger... things with her bare hands.

She needed active current. And fast.

Just as Mohanes had promised, her path would be made clear to her when the time was right. A giant blossom of purple-green lifted its... head? and just as quickly swung it to the side, bending a lamppost in half.

Bingo.

Without thought, she ran towards the post, swerving around a hysterical teenager and jumping over an unconscious police officer. The plant's leafy arm swung at her, and she barely ducked down in time to be missed by it. Up on her feet in an instant, she pulled electrical current from the wiring of the lamppost. Feeling the surge of energy wind through the circuits of her nervous system, she directed it out her fingertips in a blast that seared the leaf-arm in half.

Holy shit it worked!!

Stepping back, she accelerated the current, making the bulb in the lamp burst with a loud pop and fizzle. Excited by the feeling of current running through her unfettered by patience or restraint, she laughed as a rope of white-blue electricity shot from her hand and burrowed its way into the plant that now seemed to scream in some sick approximation of sentience.

The flora blackened slowly, and Rayen gritted her teeth, pulling more wattage from the post as she accessed the city's electrical grid.

Conduit wasn't used to battle. She didn't know to keep an eye out for what might attack her. So she didn't see the tiger coming, nor even notice its leap through the air until it was on top of her.

She screamed, knocked to her back as the fetid, rotting talons scraped into the meat of her shoulder. Distress loosening her control on her powers, the city grid went black.

With a resounding BOOM that shook the sidewalk, five hundred megavolts exploded from her chest, blowing bits of musty tiger corpse in every direction. Streetlights to either side exploded, buildings for a square half mile losing power.

Breathing so hard her lungs ached, Rayen got to her feet.

[preacher]

((continued from Hotel Lobby))

By the time Adam had made his way out onto the streets, things had hit the fan. Whatever he had been expecting this day, this was certainly not it. Well, it was a mutant protest rally, but why did it seem mutants were fighting amongst themselves? This wasn't what was supposed to be happening.

Adam hung back, leaving a good distance between him and immediate harm's way. He had no offensive abilities, and from the looks of it, it was Dawn of the Dead meets Little Shop of Horrors. And then the light above his head exploded, sending glass raining down around him. This was all very overwhelming.

As the priest watched the various mutants, he began to wonder what he was doing there at all. This was obviously a fight, and Adam was no fighter. On top of all that, he had never made contact with the Brotherhood, and was utterly lost.

[forge]

Forge saw Rayen go down all too clearly, and then saw her save herself with what had to be the most violent electrical surge he’d ever seen. It had blown out the entire city grid, and the explosion still rang in his ears… such power… He tried to get to her, but the giant plants demanded immediate attention. Fortunately, they seemed to be stationary, so as soon as the civilians were dead or fled around them, he could leave them there.

Damn Wolverine for bringing her out into this.

Thanks to his 360 degree vision, he saw that Storm was already in action, assisting guide the rest of the civilians out using her flight and wind properties. They were being pushed along gently with a heavy wind, enough to really put pep in their step.

Good, the situation was getting under control- it was still completely FUBAR, but already it was moving towards control. Unwanted civilians were out of the way, leaving only a small band of spec-ops guards who seemed to be fighting off a group of policemen… what? Yes, he was sure of it. Six cops were firing into the cover that the special operatives were using… only, the policemen were SERIOUSLY wounded. Like, some of them looked dead.

They must be under some form of mind-control, he thought, then winced as he saw the Wolverine dive into the policemen, sawing through them with his unbreakable claws.

There were at least 16 other civilians screaming, as if in complete anguish, and they all seemed to be staggering or running at the X-Men.

There were bodies everywhere.

A massive explosion in front of him caused him to stagger back and shield his head from chunks of vegetable debris. Apparently Chamber had blown one of the plants to pieces.

Bobby was saying there were people caught in the burning building. Angel was fighting some other flying mutant in the skies…

Juggernaut was throwing cars. Throwing cars.

[Admin]

Rayen's explosion threw Sy off his feet and back into one of the fly-traps, its thick stem stopping him from moving further. He was really sure she could have used less force on the tiger to kill it, but making a show of it hadn't been bad either.

"Are you ok?" He yelled across the confusion between them. She looked a little dazed, but not badly hurt, minus a few scratches to her shoulders. If she replied he didn't hear her, as the plant noticed his presense and was swooping down a very large head in his dirrection.

Sy rolled out of the way of its "mouth" and grabbed the base of the stem, acid quickly seering through the flesh of it as a hideous, high-pitched scream came from its eerily animal-like mouth. As his hands moved inward and finally touched each other, the large plant fell over with a squishy thud, nearly taking out someone standing near the next building.

Haha! What a pleasant way to go about things. Sy's smile spread across his face as he looked for the next plant to destroy.

[conduit]

Rayen heard Sy yell to her, and nodded. "I'm fine!" She ran over to him, trying to help kill off the plant. Pulling a thread of electricity over to her, she tried to avoid electrocuting people in its path as she shot it at the base of the plant.

Chamber, meanwhile, had unwrapped his face and chest and stalked around slowly, biding his time for when his power would truly be needed. Focusing the bean to laser precision, he turned and sliced the base off a humongous plant beast, the rest of the creature fizzling into nothingness as it exploded at a cellular level.

[forge]

(( moved to thread: Baltimore Deployment ))

[tingrin]

Piotr had armoured up the minute the zombies - ZOMBIES?? had come racing towards them and had successfully ploughed his way through several of them already. As he swung his heavily armoured arms through the attackers, he found himself rather randomly mentally composing a letter to his sister.

Dearest Illyana,

What a turn up for the books! We were sent to keep the peace at a protest and would you believe we were attacked by the undead? That is a new word for you, Illyana, and one which may alarm you. They are reanimanted corposes of recently deceased people...

He continued to slug his way through the onslaught.

...and animals, apparently.

It was a messy, but fairly bloodless job. He heard someone - Logan? Forge? He couldn't quite tell amidst the chaos - call out to try to save the cops and turned his attention to the newest threat. His eyes, as armoured as the rest of him, narrowed slightly as he saw the newest threat.

Remember when mama used to say that if you talked to plants that they would grow better for you? It is all true, little sister.

Piotr headed with a surprising turn of speed for a nearly seven feet tall armoured Colossus towards the nearest man-eating plant. He was not at all impressed at the way this day was panning out. Alcatraz had been one thing. Magneto hurling cars, Pyro igniting them - that had been somehow acceptable in the big Russian's definition of an enemy attack. Zombies, tiger zombies, old women zombies and overgrown houseplants did not a happy Piotr make.

There are days, Yana, when I really wonder whether I should ever have left the farm at all.

He tore into the first plant like he was tearing through tissue paper, ripping at its stem and ending up covered in a sticky sap-like substance which presumably was the thing's equivalent of 'blood'.

I do not think that after today, however, I will have any interest in farming crops. Perhaps I will become a chicken farmer. There is something strangely soothing about chickens.

With great alarm, Piotr realised that he had spent too long attempting to wipe the sap off himself and a second plant was racing towards him, roots spinning like some sort of bizarre agricultural skateboard. It leaned down towards him, its gaping maw opening...

...and closing over the big man's head, closing approximately halfway down his chest.

I hate plants.

Piotr summoned up all his strength - which was rather considerable.

I really, really hate plants.

With a phenomenal burst, the huge man flung his arms out either side of his body, splitting the giant plant like he was shelling peas. He shook himself free of greenery, apart from one tendril which, in accordance with all the laws of comedy remained wrapped around his ear.

Note to self: ensure supplies of weed killer are plentiful.

Colossus turned away from the plants and tapped his communicator.

"Colossus. Where am I needed most?"

[Iceman]

(cont. from ‘Baltimore: Warehouse’)

With Bobby’s arms, she threw open the doors of the warehouse. She had him walk a few steps before conjuring the gravity-defying ice slide once more. He jumped onto it and guided it underneath him to rise steeply, moving forward as he rose over NovaTex. There Emma paused, surveying the dwindling chaos on the ground below. She did not plan to involve Iceman in any of it, she did not want to waste her energy supplying him with the means to fight once she’d ended her possession of his body, and he would be in no state to fight when she left him in control of his body.

She guided Bobby around the side of NovaTex, soaring into sight of those fighting in front of the building. He stayed at a steady height, moving above the street in a wide arc before he descended smoothly, even at his fast pace, to just ten feet above the pavement. At this height, if anyone below took a moment to get a good look at him as he passed, they might notice that he looked worse for wear. He was pale and had dark circles under his eyes as though he hadn’t slept in days. His face was covered in a cold sweat. But he felt no illness—Emma was keeping it far from his consciousness.

The slide far behind him began to dry up, disappearing much as it had appeared. He didn’t take time to stop and watch any individual fights; his expression was of serious concentration as he turned and directed his ice pathway toward the building beside NovaTex. He moved with ease over the building, descending out of sight on the other side.

[Storm]

Storm stood well away from the crowd, white eyes focused on the sky, keeping clouds gathered over all of downtown Baltimore. She rained a little, she hailed a little, and through the white haze she was pleased to see onlookers start to retreat.

Then the explosion rocketed through the building.

Rather than leaping in fear, Storm's heart sank as the sound echoed in her ears. That was the Brotherhood, and no doubt. She allowed herself only a split second to mourn before she ripped her civilian clothes off and raced towards the crowd. But she only got a few people running in the direction that she wanted them, before some extremely disturbing elements were added to the melee, and hell really broke loose.

Storm whipped around as the crowd milled, to see - something four-legged - a tiger? She barely had time to register its shape before she dropped flat on the ground and it hurtled over her back, crashing into a clutch of protestors and -

Oh god. Her stomach turned. They were being ripped to shreds.

From her place on the ground, Storm twisted and leaped to her feet. "Get away!" she screamed, although she probably didn't need to. She flung her hands out in front of her and channeled a bolt of lightning from the skies at the creature.

It quivered for a moment, skeleton lit in glowing blue. Storm realized with horror that it was not... made of meat... it was a corpse. Beyond a corpse, a living skeleton. As the blue subsided, it leapt into the crowd again. Storm stood rooted to the spot. What can I do? Lightning was no use, any other weather pattern would affect too much of the crowd...

A voice shot clear out of the communicator on her collar.

"Sweet Jesus, X-Men, this is a shit-fest!
Iceman, see if you can't put that fire out,
Wolverine, Colossus, try and save those cops!
Chamber, Storm – these plants have GOT to go!"

Plants? Her head snapped into the air and one glance took them in.

She hurled herself into the air, spinning in a blur as the skies darkened further from the clouds and the smoke. Lighting flashed in a cage around her and she smashed into the side of the nearest plant. It stiffened violently under the current and its trap gaped open in a vegetable expression of pain. The smell of cooking bok choy filled the air, and Storm rode the plant's death droop to earth as she turned her attention on the next in line. It scooped up a woman holding a protest sign, and Storm screamed in anger with the woman's scream of pain. She leapt into the air again, but it was too late; the woman had disappeared with a gurgling noise that Storm would hear echoed in empty hallways for many days to come. She reached out her arms as if there was something she could yet do; but only lightning sprang from her palms. As the next plant sizzled, she lowered herself numbly to earth.

There was no time to mourn, however. Storm ran back into the crowd, trying to keep the last civilians out of harm's way. She charred a few men - men? there was a glazed look in their eyes that reminded her terribly of the dead, and she somehow was sure they were not innocent bystanders - into ashes, and yanked a young teenager out of the way of a flytrap, watching it smash into the cement instead as she sent electricity through its system.

She looked this way and that frantically, pinpointing the other members of the team. Another couple of explosions rocked the street, as Conduit and Chamber used their powers, and the pavement thundered as a van... flying through the air... suddenly blocked her view of Wolverine. Then, with a flurry barely visible through the roiling clouds and smoke, Nightcrawler bamfed next to the wreckage. But a pair of glassy-eyed people were striding unconcerned around the corner just behind him. Without a second thought, Storm screamed.

"Kurt!" And she whirled towards him, arms straight, hands already channeling another bolt from the skies.

[Nightcrawler]

Kurt looked around from the alleyway in horror as everything went to Hell and back.

Crouching in the shadows, he was nearly thrown off his feet as the ground shook beneath him, the heat on his face. He had known it was inevitable, but that didn't make the fact that it had begun any less terrible. His hand instictively drew the cutlass from beneath the black coat, a remnant of his circus days, and teleported from the alley in a puff of smoke.

With a bamf! he appeared on the roof of a car nearby, earning him terrified shrieks from the crowd. Sighing inwardly, a sound caught his ear and he turned just in time to see... Mein Gott, is that a corpse? His stomach turned and he disappeared just in time for the skeletal tiger to sail directly through where he had been.

There was a puff on a nearby corner of a rooftop, and Kurt's grip on his cutlass handle tightened. With wide eyes he watched the horror as the zombies tore through the cops before turning on the crowds. He had given up belief in demons long ago - it was that or think he was one himself - but this was horrible. Completely unnatural.

It had to be stopped.

Teleporting back down to the street, Kurt's cutlass slice through a vine that was tearing its way through the pavement only to bamf a few feet away as a huge, gaping maw of a plant flew down at him, colliding with the ground where he had stood. Leaping into the air, his feet sticking to the top of the mouth unconsciously, he sank his sword through it. It surged up, tossing him off, and struggled to open, tearing itself in half as the sword still lodged up to the hilt sliced it open.

Teleporting up to the head for a brief fraction of a second - just long enough to grab his sword and teleport away - Kurt was off down the street, dodging other plantlife and teleporting from the side of a building to the top of a car.

The corpses were still working their way through the crowds... but there were more of them! He had to do something.

A loud rush of air filled his ears, and he turned just in time to see a van hurtling through the air. He was gone before it hit the ground, reappearing next to the wreckage and poking his head around one corner.

"Kurt!"

Ororo's voice echoed in his mind and he spun, terrified something had gone horribly wrong, only to see two of the zombies striding towards him just before lightning split the sky and fried them where they walked. "Ororo! What is going on?" He dashed towards her, sheathing his sword and running along on all fours.