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Post by wildchild on May 7, 2007 0:38:51 GMT -4
"My--My--My...you've not had much experience in war, have you little boy? That's all it is.....Is tricks!"
The very human cynic in Kyle brought a smirk to his face. He had probably spilled more blood in the past year than this woman would have her entire life. He bet she didn't even know the thrill that came from that first rip into the flesh of prey, the triumphant taste of warm blood.
She may have known how men made war, but Kyle was fluent in natural brutality.
The Witch fired off three hexes, each struck a different target. Kyle's body felt a strange burning as one embedded itself into his chest. The others hit the floor of the cave and the very lip he clung to.
The earth beneath him began to shake, and the walls of his earthen prison began to crumble. What had she done?
Roots began to rapidly travel down wards, as a clutch of dandelions began to grow wildly out of control. Higher and higher they rose, the weight of their buds weighing them down into the pit.
The cave floor however was beginning to open up, a wide fissure was forming across the bottom.
It was either climb or die. He jumped to the nearest trunk sized stem and shimmied his way up wards. As the earth began to crumble away beneath him, Kyle noticed the scent of burnt flesh in the air.
The witch had set him ablaze. He just hadn't noticed with the impending death and all.
He frantically hit the ground, and rolled to extinguish the flames, whimpering slightly as the pain of the fire began to flood his brain.
Enough was enough. He stood, watching the flakes of burnt skin fall off as new flesh grew underneath, and watched the Witch sashay away from him, flanked by the Man-Who-Made-Things-Explode.
He would find her, he would track her down.....then he would eat her heart.
And the rational part of Kyle's mind, though disgusted with the image, agreed.
All that remained was the other feral, and the woman in purple. The Violet woman had disappeared, leaving Kyle and the Feral.
His feral, amber eyes met hers, and snapped his jaws in anticipation.
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Post by janedoe on May 10, 2007 16:36:24 GMT -4
(crossposting right into Storm's head)
"Ororo? Ororo, it's Jean. Can you hear me?"
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Post by Storm on May 10, 2007 18:15:00 GMT -4
It was happening again. The walls that had been her home and haven were now her prison. The people she loved she would lose. She could help them if she could only get free. If she could only move, only breathe, perhaps she could save them. There was no room to move, no room to breathe, no room to be. The walls were crushing down on her, closing off her lungs.
Can’t breathe.
Her legs were free now, but there was nowhere to go.
Can’t move.
Curling herself up as small as possible, she squeezed her eyes closed tightly and held her head in her hands. She couldn’t make herself small enough. The walls just kept moving closer like approaching armies, attacking her, tearing her down with them.
Nothing left.
What was there to fight for? They were dead. Dead beside her. She couldn’t be alone again. What was left of her? She was broken, powerless… yet her powers raged on. She was oblivious to the storm outside, the wind that howled at a deafening volume and the hail that was growing larger each moment. While her emotions went unchecked, so did the storm. The chaos in the sky reflected the chaos in her mind until a single, solitary voice broke through.
“Cannot… breathe…” she choked, clutching desperately at her head as if she could keep the voice within it. Something to grasp onto.
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Post by Callie on May 13, 2007 15:40:12 GMT -4
Callie nodded slightly at Gambit's command - oh she'd keep them busy all right.
She glanced back to see how her team mates were doing, catching Wanda's gaze, she seemed to be doing all right with her fight, but something told Callie she wanted a hand.
The reasoning why was made clear when the Scarlet Witch headed after Gambit. Callie watched her go with a slight shake of her head - how were they supposed to do battle when half their team didn't take orders?
She ignored it for now - Gambit could handle it, and Wanda had done something you just don't do - left an enemy behind her.
Callie turned with a grin to the other feral, to see him looking at her, apparently having recovered from whatever Wanda had thrown his way.
He reminded her of Victor, just a little.... but he wasn't, she had to remember that, there'd be no remorse in injuring him, killing him even. She summoned what little residual anger she harboured towards her 'husband', she'd use that against this guy - not that she needed any more determination, not in this fight.
Dropping into a fighting stance, she grinned at Kyle, beckoning him with one clawed glove. She didn't need to say a word, her entire stance said 'bring it on' for her.
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Post by janedoe on May 13, 2007 17:37:28 GMT -4
((crossposting telepathically to Ororo))
“Ororo, listen to me. You are not alone. We are all still here, and we’re waiting for you. We need your help. We need you.”
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Post by Storm on May 13, 2007 19:47:20 GMT -4
The voice was clear, so sure, but could she believe it? No, they were dead and she was trapped, just like before.
But what if it wasn’t just like before?
It didn’t matter. She could feel her lungs collapsing and the walls slowly closing in, crushing her. Can’t move. Can’t breathe.
“I cannot… help you. Can’t even help… myself,” she gasped, trying to fold herself up even smaller.
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Post by wildchild on May 14, 2007 1:59:09 GMT -4
He would be on even footing with this one, no special traps, no silly tricks. It would be as nature intended; fang to fang, talon to talon.
Kyle dropped to all fours, and began to circle the crouched feral, a low growl coming from his throat as he made his way around her. Her stance was that of a trained fighter, something that meant very little to Kyle.
All the training in the world meant nothing if you couldn't get your hands dirty, if you couldn't kill. Kyle had, or at least some portion of him had, several times....more times than he cared to remember. There was blood on these hands, and no matter how many times he scrubbed them, he would still see the blood on them.
A glimmer of humanity shone through the feral amber eyes, before being banished back into the far reaches of his mind.
Weakling.
He had stalked almost a full circle around Callie, he had been patient enough. Without warning, the feral mutant attacked with a blazing fast lunge.
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Post by janedoe on May 14, 2007 9:30:53 GMT -4
This wasn’t working. If Jean wasn’t already privy to the turmoil in Ororo’s mind, the raging storm outside would be enough indication that she was bordering on too far gone. It was time for something a little more drastic.
“Then let me help you. Let me in, Ororo. I can be your strength. Open your eyes and let me be your sight. Open your mind and I will guide you through this,” Jean requested, probing a little deeper into her friend’s mind.
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Post by Gambit on May 14, 2007 10:06:48 GMT -4
He should have known. Wanda was powerful, probably the most powerful mutant he had ever met if she knew how to control her powers. The fact that she often seemed to be just randomly tossing around hexes on instinct just made her dangerous and unpredictable to everyone, even her own team.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t just her powers that were hard to control.
Stopping in his tracks when she pranced up beside him, Gambit grabbed her arm to stop her as well.
“Boss’s daughter or non, y’ wan’ t’ be part o’ dis team, y’re gonna have t’ learn t’ take orders, princess. An’ since y’r père put me in charge, dat means y’ be takin’ dem from me,” he said, his voice cold and steady. There was something different in his eyes, a new intensity that would terrify most. If things remained unchanged, he stood to lose everything, so if anyone threatened to jeopardize this mission, he wouldn’t hesitate to take them out of the equation.
“Can I at leas’ trust dat y’ made damn sure dat y’r opponent was down fo’ de count b’fo’ followin’ me? I’d hate t’ t’ink y’ jus’ riled him up an’ den left Callie back dere t’ clean up y’r mess.”
((OOC: apologies if I’ve missed anythin’ important by respondin’ to just Wanda’s post. Details in my absence note))
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Post by Callie on May 14, 2007 13:14:49 GMT -4
There was something oddly comfortable about the way he was circling her, and she kept her eyes trained on him.
She'd never really fought another feral before, apart from Wolverine, who wasn't really feral enough to be considered...well, feral.
She started to let go, just a little, animal rage was all very well, but you needed to keep hold of your humanity just enough to know how to be really evil - Callie didn't need to worry about her humanity holding her back from the kill, she knew all it would do was make her smarter than somebody who'd gone all animal.
She was tensed, waiting for him to spring...she didn't have to wait long.
True enough he gave no warning, but Callie had been waiting, and her senses were heightened enough for her to react, she spun to face him head-on, while at the same time side-stepping - she couldn't get out of his way, but she could minimise the damage.
Bringing her claws up with a growl, she aimed them straight for the lunging mutant - with any luck he'd throw himself right onto their deadly metallic points.
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Post by Storm on May 14, 2007 14:42:47 GMT -4
Can’t move. Can’t breathe. Can’t do this alone.
Ororo didn’t want to be alone again, nor did she want to die alone. It wasn’t a decision she had to consciously make. When Jean asked for entrance into her mind, Ororo opened the door and allowed her in.
It was a strange sensation, this feeling of renewed strength. It seemed to course through her body as sure as her own blood. Her lungs no longer felt so tight, and when she finally opened her eyes, it was not with fear that she gazed upon the stone and rubble surrounding her. A sense of peace and calm overtook her, and when the lightening flashed again outside, she could see that there were holes within her prison walls. She could breath. She could move. Reaching her hands out to the nearest source of light, she began to dig herself free.
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Post by wildchild on May 14, 2007 15:47:58 GMT -4
Razor sharp metallic claws stuck into Kyle's torso, causing an anguished snarl to escape his lips. The cold metal felt strange in his flesh, cold and unfeeling. He was standing upright,
He grabbed her wrists roughly, knowing his long talons were probably doing what they did best, and pushed the talons a little deeper into himself. The pain was liberating, and he knew full well the effect it would have on himself.
KILL! KILL! KILL!
He roared and pulled her loose from his chest, a sent a flurry of slashes from his own talons.
Just as nature intended....Talon to talon.
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Post by Callie on May 14, 2007 18:12:06 GMT -4
He didn't really seem to mind the pain, dragging her claws deeper into his chest as his own left deep scores in the metal covering her forearms
A healer? Callie growled - she had to be the only feral she knew of that didn't have that nifty little regeneration trick.
He released her as he pulled her away from his wounds, and launched an attack of his own. She made use of her agility to dodge as many as she could, but it wasn't all - though her mutant powers and her fighting skill minimised the damage, she was still covered in scratches.
She wasn't just defending though, she was slashing in return for all she was worth, and while he was distracted, she swept her leg underneath him, trying to unbalance him.
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Post by janedoe on May 14, 2007 22:10:06 GMT -4
With each stone that was cast aside, Jean took a step back, slowly relinquishing her control. By the time the hole was made large enough and Ororo had pulled herself free, Jean had reverted back to just a gentle voice in the Weather Goddess’s mind.
“You did it, Ororo. You’re free,” she projected. It was all that needed to be said.
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Post by Storm on May 14, 2007 22:35:08 GMT -4
She could see it now. More than that. She could feel it; she could smell it: freedom. Her nails were broken to the quick, her fingers bleeding, but she barely felt the pain. She could breathe again. She could move again. As she pulled herself free, she could feel the stinging sensation of the cold hail beating upon her skin, and somewhere in the back of her mind she knew this was her doing, but to her it only felt refreshing.
The pain in her legs was great, but her soul was soaring. She didn’t need her legs to carry her when she had the winds. Rising up from the rubble, she held her arms wide and tipped her head back. She had let the storm get out of control, and it felt wonderful, but although she could take different meaning to Jean’s words, she knew she could not embrace this entire feeling of freedom. Her body was free, but her emotions never could be. Slowly the hail regressed back to a heavy rain that washed the blood and dirt from her clothing and skin. The swirling clouds settled, but the winds still howled around her. Finally opening her eyes, they were pure white, though they seemed to crackle with the very lightening she commanded.
It was then that she finally was able to see what had happened, but her focus quickly turned from the destruction of her home to the intruders outside.
“Thank you, my friend. Now it appears I have some business to attend to,” she sent back to Jean. Slowly she let the air currents bring her closer to the ground until she hovered several feet above it, between the building and the two arguing Acolytes. The man, Gambit, she recognized, and the woman she knew only from photographs.
“I suggest you turn back the way you came,” she commanded.
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