New Riot at District X

June 06, 2017:

In our defense, it had been almost a year since the last riot.
Looks like the Brotherhood thought it was due. (Emits by Cyclops)

Mutant Town


NPCs: Blob and several other Brotherhood members



Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

With all of the news on slavery of mutants in Genosha, Mutant Town has become an interesting place, with news crews just on the fringes of the borough with reporters not reporting on Mutant Town itself, but keeping it as a backdrop for current affairs news broadcasts. Needless to say, the topic of mutant rights is normally hot in the borough, but now it's on fire. Flyers are being put up and posters are being taped in place over businesses: FREE GENOSHA. NO MUTANT SLAVERY.
Mattias Larsson, fresh off of four weeks having disappeared and returned with hints of animal bites on one shoulder, catches one such broadcasts and begins knocking on doors, asking if anyone wants to drive into the city to take a better look. He's lost his leather jacket, somewhere, with little explanation, so he wears his hair long with a simple, white v-necked tee shirt and jeans, black boots, and a shameless carbon fiber snap-baton dangling against his hip when the car is parked at a garage.
Mattias opens the driver's side door and slips out, tapping on the hood and throwing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. He can already hear the pedestrian traffic, with their green skin, tentacles, rail-thin and fattened bodies, shopping and dining in the distance.
"…haven't spent much time down here, Bobby." Mattias is mid-conversation with the other man. "Is there something we're supposed to do to not look like tourists since we don't look like mutants, right off?"

"I haven't either, to be honest." Whether or not he really wanted to go, Bobby seemed willing to go along on the trip. Maybe he's been focusing too much on himself of late and it's about time that he get his head out of his ass and focus on others. "I don't know that we should -try- to look anything different than how we look. Isn't the point that we should be accepted no matter what?" So they don't outwardly -look- like mutants. That shouldn't matter…in an ideal world.
"I don't like these news crews though. It's…I don't know that this is positive press." Is it Negative? He's not sure about that either.

"I figure, just be ourselves? Better not to lie, I suppose." Mattias stuffs the keys into the pocket of his jeans and loosens his shoulders. One booted foot scuffs out to release the post-drive tension before he's walking down the ramp to the sunlight beside Bobby. He looks to the other man and nods solemnly. "When I first came to America," Mattias offers, his tongue rolling the 'R' in America, with his strange accent. "It was all new worlds for me. America. Mutants. Mansion life." Mattias laughs and shakes his head.
"Fuck it. Coffee." Mattias shakes it off and turns the corner, leading Bobby towards a busy intersection where a locally owned coffee house, mutant-owned, waits. "But you're right. It's not positive press. A few extra people agreeing on mutant rights only starts up more conversation for people who agree with Genosha."

"Being a mutant and mansion life was new for a lot of us," Bobby points out with a grin but it's Mattias' words about lies has him shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. There's a glance ahead before the comment about coffee brings him back to the here and now. "I'd rather have people talking about us in a positive way…although the idea of slavery shouldn't be the impetus for that. But it's something. I think it would be hard for anyone to seriously promote slavery of anyone in this day and age, especially in America. After all, they fought a whole war over a hundred and fifty years ago to get rid of it. Worst American Casualties of any war, if I remember correctly."

On the other hand Nate was an habitual sight in Mutant Town. Not so much the past few weeks, since he is supposed to be laying low. No more ‘Nate the Great Every Friday’ at the local theater. Not that he didn’t miss half the show before for some reason or another.
Well, today he is here. Not many people recognize him with the buzzcut hair and sunglasses, though. And maybe bit of telepathic pressure to ignore him. The ‘Someone Else Problem’ field he seems to have finally mastered.
Mutant Town is a good place to meet for Mutants, though. And Xaviers feels crowded lately, that with the war preparations. So he is meeting a couple friends at the local eatery. Laura and Illyana. Both affected by the Omega Shift in peculiar ways. But he hopes the ladies are still friends. It is only as he steps in the restaurant he spots Mattias and Bobby. Now, what are the chances? “Hey guys,” he greets.

Bobby Drake glances over at Mattias as he catches himself saying something and then changing it. Not that he knows what he was -going- to say. "That's not everyone here, Mat." Can he call him that? "So many people can't see their noses past their face, but a lot of people want to help in other parts of the world as well. Even if the problems aren't touching them here, it's a human problem…not just an American problem. A lot of people still see past nationality to the bigger picture."
Of course, as the door to the coffee shop is opened for him, his breath hitches and he gives a strangled sort of "Thanks," before ducking inside. And there's Nate to save the day…or at least his rising blush. "Hey, Nate, didn't know you'd be out this way. Are you here to keep an eye on the news crews too?"

"I didn't mean it like that, Bobby. Just that…people tend to send tweets, not human chains. I hope the powers of the world get involved past trade embargos." Mattias nudges the Iceman's upper arm with the back of his, giving the man a gentle shove inside with a smirk and then swings his arm around in offer of a shake to Nate and the others. Mattias turns, backing in, foot bracing against the door to hold it for them.
"Hallo, come on in. We could pile onto the patio after drinks, which I'll buy." Mattias offers, thumbing a green pendant around his neck before stuffing the trio of pendants under the V-neck of his white shirt. "We're keeping watch on the town. Good neighbors and alls, we are."

Laura, got the call early. She was on the couch in the 'living area' of Cyberforce's bunker. After Scott informed her of her intended position with the Genosha War, she had to inform Ripclaw and his people that her promise… Stands, but she may run a little late in aiding Cyberforce with the attacks by Cyberdata. After pushing a mans outsides back into his insides, Laura has found a bond there (Gee!) and promised to help finish what she interrupted in the first place.
And then Genosha happened.
A lot has happened it seems, a blink and thing have blurred and stands are being made while so much changes.
Pausing across the street from the cafe, Laura is in the fit of black leather pants, fitting down along legs to paint inside the hold of laced boots, rising up beneath knees and topped with duets of buckles. Her top is similar, haltered, leaving torso exposed until the belted wrap of halter picks up in two and solidifies over her chest, a single loop laced around the back of her neck.
The media is avoided, weaving through the sudden lull of traffic, Laura's slight frame sidesteps and moves through it with ease, a single honk as someone is held up by her stroll and before any further note can be taken, Laura is stepping inside the cafe, not even a jingle of welcoming bells.
She hates those things.

“News crews? What for?” Nate hakes hands and tosses a smile to Laura, who just arrived too. “Another demonstration? We should join,” or maybe he shouldn’t, there are cameras. “Came here to meet Illy and Laura, though. I should ask them, or you might want to join us.” Illyana is late. But the blonde witch has an odd relationship with time, so Nate is not surprised.

The sun might be shining, but Illyana sees no reason to compromise her wardrobe choices. It's still very much black, skulls, and so on. Her only concessions to the climate are a pair of very short black shorts and a pair of dark sunglasses, that she pushes up in order to turn her unfettered glare on the media crews surrounding Mutant Town.
She has more than one reason for not wanting to be asked her opinion, on camera or otherwise.
Still, it's a problem easily solved. Pivoting on one boot heel, Illyana walks smartly into the nearest alleyway, and a flash of light later, walks smartly OUT of an alleyway on the other side of the media's perimeter. Sparing a moment for a smug smile, Illyana strolls across to the cafe.
She's not late unless she decides she is.
Illyana doesn't make any attempt to be sneaky when she enters, spying out Nate (and friends) and crossing over to join them. "Causing trouble already, Nate?"

It might take Bobby a second or two to catch his thoughts, but at least there's the distraction of Nate and others arriving. Phew! Saved by the…crowd? "People can be surprising in good ways," Bobby finally offers. As Laura and Illyana join them, he gives both a grin, "Hi! Long time no see for you both! What a nice little reunion. Maybe we -should- grab the patio?" Whether or not Mattias decides to buy everyone's drinks.
But to answer Nate's question, "I think they're talking about Genosha. And apparently this is a newsworthy backdrop."

The gathering of news crews in M-Town is a perfect arena for those who wish to meddle. Who owns District X? Not the humans. Not even the X-Men. Precinct 13 knows full well that when trouble really begins in the section of the burough the source is almost always the Brotherhood. Their tags are everywhere. For years it stopped being about Magneto and became a vision, a movement, a force beyond simply political. What a perfect opportunity…
It's a news anchor named Jules Blattere that starts the ruckus. A calm interview is suddenly a chorus of cries, the crowd outside peeling back as a mutant with a green fin on his head gets violently smashed in the face with a heavy NEWScrew 13 mic. Not one hit. No. Two, three, four, five.
A nearby heavy woman with a single arm that looks more like an elephant trunk steps out and grips up the moustached enraged Blattere and hurls him with enough force his body bounces off the front of a parked car. The windshield shattered, hood dented. All of this is LIVE.
It's begun. It's been over a year since the threat of a riot fell upon District X. Many hardly remember it but those days were the days of the Purifier hit squads, unchecked.
"FUCK GENOSHA! FUCK YOU FLATSCANS!" A ring out of voices from the mutants and locals of M-Town.
A camera man is hefted up in to the air, his flails waving around as he cries out, a young boy, perhaps no more than sixteen is grippinig his knuckles in to the side of his head and screaming, the scream, force 'launching' the man.
This is no longer a peaceful assembly.

"Tough luck, Nate. We saw you. You belong to us now. Like hell you'll clique off to the less cool table. Bobby is cool, defined." Mattias says flatly, lips barking down into a smirk as he motions the other mutant inside, holding the door for Laura and Illyana (and then another pair of stragglers he doesn't know, because getting stuck as a doorman is a thing). Mattias swings after the group and scurries back to the line to Bobby, reaching to the back pocket of his jeans for a new wallet. The chain wallet? That disappeared, too, just like his leather jacket.
"I'm content to watch the demonstrations and make sure everything goes smooth. Hallo Illyana, Laura." Mattias interrupts himself and motions for an iced coffee. "But the news are talking mutants, Genosha, so…they do the news things outsides of the Mutant place. You know how it is." Mat scurries down the line and offers money to the barista at the register, tip included. He makes it OUT OF THE DOOR AND…
"-Fokk, virkelig??" Mattias grouses and plants a booted foot onto the railing and is already up and over the patio, coffee splattered on the ground in his race for the disruption.

Laura is inside, and instead of stepping aside she is moving within, approaching the group Nate had found himself aquainting with, familiars, if not exactly by scent, by sight that lands upon each, a lower of chin in a nod of greeting, a small smile lifting there as the team and family she has come to know easily converges.
Illyana's arrival last does not make her late, just makes her last, and for a moment the blonde woman is regarded with a light lowering of corners of lis and then the smile returns. She missed these people, but her absence was necessary. Nate is given yet another steady level of her eyes, an up-down that draws one eye just a bit more narrow in inspection and just as she is about to reach the counter….
The barista looks up, shock and awe upon his face as even Mattias is out the door and into the fray.
Cough! A snap of fingers to draw his attention back down. "Make it large. Make it hot." A rapid nod and the machine whines, presses and fills Laura's cup.
A slow sip is taken, a drag of tongue over her lips and she is moving towards the door and the ruckous as well, but at a casual pace and moving her coffee from spillage and racing bodies.
"Alright, then." One more glance to Bobby, Illy, and Nate and the slow smile says it all.

Nate snickers at Mattias. “Matt, dude, you might be a superstrong Viking, but you aren’t half as dangerous as Illy and Laura, so don’t make me hurt you ‘cause they got me first,” but he is already bringing chairs for everyone to the table expecting the girls to be okay with it.
“It is good they talk about Genosha, too. At least not everybody is trying to forget it exists. And since it is likely it will be in the frontpages soon…” the young man shrugs and directs his attention to the menu. Hmm, he wants everything. Unfortunately his wallet feels rather thin. Decisions, decisions.
And then shouts from outside. He peers out and grumbles. Not another riot. Yes another riot in Mutant Town. Of course. “Business first, I guess,” he mutters, heading out after the others.

Illyana catches the dimming of Laura's smile when the one-time assassin looks her way. The reaction seems to amuse the blonde demoness, who replies with first a questioning look, then a thoughtful one, as if she's racking her memories, and then a shrug as if to say whatever she's in trouble for, she doesn't care. Illyana's about to make her own drink selection, when…
Screaming, yelling, and sounds of destruction? Illyana shoots Nate a look, as if this is somehow all his fault. "You had to say it." She says accusingly.
Illyana's not surprised that Mattias goes running straight toward the trouble. He seems the type. She is a little surprised that Laura's not hard on his heels. She returns the other woman's smile with a smirk of her own. "See you there." She tells her, and vanishes into a circle of light.
One advantage of teleporting in first, you get the best view of the riot. Illyana tracks the flying camera man with her eyes for a moment, then he, too, vanishes into one of her portals, only to reappear beside her. She gives him a shove in the general direction of Away. "Be somewhere else!" She tells him, then turns to face the fracas, arms folded, eyes narrowed. Looking for her next victim.

It was apparently too much to hope for some peaceful reporting. Bobby gives a sigh as the sound of fighting comes into the cafe and he offers to the barista, "Try to get people to stay in here and not go out and help. Seriously. Try to get them to stay safe." He's then turning to the door to join the others to try and diffuse…or break up the fracas. Once he's outside, he turns to ice, creating a ramp to get him at a higher vantage level so he can try and zap some of the more obvious troublemakers with new ice-boots. Anything that doesn't kill them but might help them, forgive the pun, cool down.

Make it large make it hot might just be the inside joke here… Mattias Larrson an Asgardian in nature is a hardy individual. His intentions of being a heroic X-Men are admirable, commendable even but not everyone shows that level of appreciation for a good Samaritan.
A wall of fat. A rotund barricade of impacting stomach meets Mattias' forward momentum. The shadow looming over him belongs to one Frederick Dukes aka The Blob. He has just tossed himself in a 'gutstrike' like something out of Street Fighter in to the young warrior.
The fighting of the News crews of New York and Mutant Town locals is just short of Anchorman (shy of grenades and tridents). It's a bit strange that no one is fleeing and everyone is fighting with such tenacity. Outlandish and against the very laws of nature in regards to fight or flight, flight should still be a pretty exercised route.
That Camera Man takes a trip through Illyana's stepping disc in one way and out the other only to get 'shoved'. A moment of confusion crosses past his features and then his eyes glaze over. His camera while he is being cast away spins wide and hide. The nutjob is trying to hit Illyana upside the head with it, holding it by it's stand to be used like a cudgel. Hopefully she looks back at him fast.
Ice-boots become a new state of fashion for many of them below. Rabble rousers on both sides. From above Bobby will see this isn't a riot but a battlefield. Riots involved the push and press, the back and forth, hesitation and rallying. This is just a straight up skirmish, violence with an end to destroying one another. No one is running away.

"Stop this!" Mattias yells out, head down, bowling forward because -surely- he can bowl through everything, no? He's moving for the thrown news anchor, arm in the air. "BREAK! IT! Uffpfpmmggghn-"
Mattias' face buries into the Blob's belly, getting a very uncomfortable, very intimate bit of face-time with a cookie dough consistency of belly fat that Mattias oozes into at first…then is thrown back the second.
The rumored-to-be Asgardian flies back into a parked Ford Focus, smashing one side in, and falls to his knee in a rain of shattering glass.
"What the FOKK is your problem…?" Mattias pushes up, brushing the glass off of his shoulders to look UP at the Blob, because the Blob is taller. "…I mean you no harm but if I can't go past you, friend-" Mattias points to the Blob's face. "-I'm going to go through you."

Coming just behind Matt, Nate spots the rather famous walking wall of fat rightfully named the Blob. Hey, he read the files! “That one is the Blob. Which means it is a bank robbery or something stupid involving the Brotherhood,” and Nate feels informative and shares his wisdom with Mattias. “What the hell are you doing here, fatso? If you want to do something really useful why are you not in Genosha already?” He keeps walking, straight to the Blob, his left eye glowing brighter as he exerts growing telepathic pressure into the huge mutant mind until he flees or goes unconscious.

Overconfidence, your name is Illyana… having firmly deposited the errant cameraman in the 'dealt with' category, Illyana belatedly realises that the man she'd thought was a victim to be rescued hasn't taken her advice to run away. She looks around in irritation - and very nearly gets a camera full in the face. She barely gets her arm up in time and she's rocked back a couple of steps by the force of the blow as she blocks it. Her arm explodes in pain and Illyana hisses out a particularly nasty curse in one of the less reputable languages of Limbo.
Clenching her hand against the pain - and to make sure it still works - Illyana's silvery armour forms around her arm and shoulder. Whatever damage has been done, that ought to keep her arm functional for now. "What in hell's name do you think…" She begins to snarl at the cameraman, but then she sees his eyes. He's not thinking. Or maybe something or someone else is doing his thinking for him.
Illyana steps adroitly back, and her Soulsword appears in her hand. It's a far more elegant weapon than a mounted camera, and she knows how to use it. With a vicious economy of motion, she slices it through the cameraman. There's a nasty smile on her face as she does it, too. It won't do him any physical damage, might even free him from whatever influence he's under, but it /feels/ like revenge.

No one is running away. No one is protecting others. It's just a free-for-all riot and that is NOT GOOD! Iceman scowls as this is not how they…or anyone should behave! They should be stopping the fighting…not joining in for sheer enjoyment! And those in Mutant Town shouldn't be encouraging this sort of violence! The anger and frustration bubbles up inside as he looks out at the city-battlefield and it's just too much.
"ENOUGH!" is shouted out from his vantage point on his ice ramp as he throws his arms out at the neighborhood. Ice doesn't shoot out from his hands, but instead, spreads from the base of the ramp, from the ice-boots, from everything that he just blasted to cover the entire 'battlefield' in a thick, dense coating.
Bobby's never frozen this large of a space before.

The Blob grins a wide display of teeth down at Mattias. "I dunno why I just had a hankerin' to get involved. I don't even know who you are but you lived so thats good. Means I get to enjoy breakin' ya. Heh heh heh."
"Try your best shot pretty boy. Right here." A big sausage finger thrusts up in to Fred's own face. "Hit me you sissy. Hit me with your be—- " One eye rolls up and then the other. Like hes trying to go cross-eyed only it failed somewhere in the middle. "ARGhh gah, jerk gahhhh. " Fredick Dukes clutches his own skull and starts to stumble left then right. His stagger actually crushing brick off the building and shattering a window in a shower of glass. Nate's psychic assault railing him.
Even something about the Blob is off, it's beyond his usual amount of ferocity, fists extend out at his sides and he starts to yell a 'WARGGGGGGGGGGGHH' turning in to the world's angriest (and largest) twirling pinwheel.

The Cameraman who was attacking Illyana with his wild swinger style is unrelenting in those back and forth hacking swings until the Soulsword slashes through him, several stunned expressions contort his features and he goes down. Faceplant.
No relief for Illyana unfortunately. She can feel it. A sudden attempted intrusion as if someone just started pouring their mind in to hers, trying to take a hold of Magik's body.
On the rooftop a young red-headed woman stands in the same exact posture as Illyana, hand even held out as if clutching soulsword. A twisted smile on her pretty features. She looks down trying to make Illyana do the same. A telepathic and physical assault on the Russian mutant's body and mind. The woman on the rooftop a mutant? The target? Laura Kinney; the Wolverine. That redhead on the rooftop is puppeteering (or trying).
Landing in the fray has Laura surrounded on all sides, an Anchor woman in a pinstripe skirt is spinning her mic like it's a weapon on a chain and slings it at the young woman's head. Another, a brawny mutant with horns out of his shoulders throws a few jabs at her. These are not fighters. Laura is witnessing them in slow motion.
As the snow begins to fall M-Town begins to look very different, slllow and progressively faster the ice-frost rapidly starts to spread. It is getting very cold. Too cold. The pawns are freeing themselves. Deep blue eyes seek out a target, landing upon a blonde man, healthy, strong, attractive looking. A long legged woman barely out of her teens races across the street, faux tears beginning to well on smooth painted cheeks. The criss-cross open sides of her outfit doing nothing to hide her from Iceman's powers. She now has to resort to her usual tactics.
As Blob is being bombarded by Nate the X-Man will feel a sensation of his own, a force. A disembodied bolt of pure telekinetic power. Strong TK and it's centered on him. The source? A lean and muscular young man with one eye, fingers outsretched aimed at Scion. A bodysuit of red and blacks covering him. Not typical street attire, typical of X-Men or their adversaries.

"You're not wise to taunt me, Land Cow." Mattias makes it all of three feet in his stalk towards the Blob before he stops and wheels about. He scans the fighting, a Ballroom Blitz, if one will, and it all looks strange to him. He reaches behind his back and jerks out his carbon fiber snap-stick. He flicks his wrist and it extends to its full height.
"Something's off!" Mattias calls out to the other. "Foul magics or powers of some kind. We've got to get these people to stop before they tear each other apart!" Mattias fails to look up in his turn, and instead, a blue-eyed girl with a 'whole lotta' visible thigh is running his way.
"Hey, it's gonna be okay!" Mattias, impervious bear that he is, extends a hand to her and jerks his head towards the cafe. "Get inside and lock yourself in." Out comes a cell phone, thumb -about- to speed-dial Scott, but he waits to help her, first.

Nate was almost smirking when Blob overcomes the psychic assault and charges, spinning. Unexpected, and he needs to switch from telepathy to telekinesis to put a force wall between them. This comes handy when another telekinetic also targets him, definitely pushing him into the defensive. “Looks like,” he grunts, taking a step back as his TK-wall cracks and rebuilds, “they came in numbers. Lets see if we can fix that, hmm?” He rolls to cover and shifts to the offensive, blasting the one-eyed man with telekinesis while trying to avoid Blobs spinnery.

Illyana has a moment of rather spiteful triumph as she cuts the cameraman free from whatever was dominating him. The fact that his face bounces off the floor just adds an extra bit of satisfaction - her arm still hurts abominably, after all - but then another mind smashes into hers. Illyana's used to her mind being out of reach of most telepaths, a quirk of no longer being entirely human, but this mind is terribly strong, trying to snuff out Illyana's will.
Illyana goes rigid, fighting physically and mentally against the compulsion that's being laid upon her, that's forcing her to attack… Laura?
Illyana's surrender is instant and almost total. She whirls and sprints toward Laura, taking advantage of the scrum descending on the young Wolverine to hide her approach, dodging the people in her way when she can, bouncing off them when she can't, entirely consumed with getting to Laura. When she sees an opening, she springs, lips drawing back from her teeth in a soundless snarl…
And a last, little, defiant bit of Illyana calls a stepping disc, and pushes them both through it!
Illyana's transitions are usually orderly. When she's being played like a puppet on a string? Less so. Illyana and her her unwilling passenger arrive above the stone floor of her throne room at high speed and Illyana, at least, smacks ungracefully into the floor as her puppeteer's strings are cut.
"NO ONE does that to me. I am going to -KILL- her." Illyana grinds out, rising to her feet. Her shadow, thrown by the flickering torches that line the room, doesn't seem to quite match her physical form. Her eyes go to Laura. "Want to help?"

Laura is remaining calm right now, despite the way she fights, no need for claws when those that are coming at her are doing so with jelly-arms, and limp noodle kicks. At least to her! They are no warriors and the only reciprocation to the succession of blows is the blocks, spins, even one guy gets a shirt drug over his head, pulled down until he is bent over, and kicked in the ass to stagger and plant in another direction.
Laura is dusting off her hands it would almost seem, a woman actually careening in with the shriek of a harpy and slapping Laura.
MUFF! Laura's hand shoots out and up, palming her face with enough impact there is a blood smear on her palm and the woman is blnded by her own tears because of a jarred nose…
The man on the grouns still trying to unwraps his head from his own pulled-over t-shirt gets her blood wiped on his shirt and she shoves him back to the ground with a hard *crack!* "Stay down. Think about your health." Spoken lowly to them all, but the chorus is now calling that they are not themselves, which has her looking up and out -
In time to see the leaping attempt of assault from Illyana the spin comes with the peel of skin from the back of her hands where claws just begin to protrude, a soundless snarl peeling over lips of the woman Wolverine whos thighs flex as she lowers about to meet Illyana head on…
And in a warp they are gone!
Landing upon the ground of the throne room, it takes Laura a moment to regain her mind, leaping to her feet and remaining in a low crouch, those claws fully extended, but unable to be helped as well by the inevitable vibe Limbo gives off alone.
Illyana's words sink in, her posture righting only enough to prepare for it. "Of course."

…Back outside of LImbo….
M-Town blanketed in snow looks like the aftermath of a miniature warzone in Siberia. Mutants, supporters, bystanders and news crews are lying around, moaning in pain crying for help or simply staggering around dazed. One rainbowhaired man is pulling a pencil out of another man's neck, covering the hole and loudly yelling for help.
A frassled anchorwoman is struggling to try and drag the tiny mutant man she shoved in to a mailbox out. His tiny cries for help muffled inside of the blue box.
Famous Channel13 host Jules Blaterre is laying on his back in the front of a car claiming he is going to sue. Sue so very hard.
A flying mutant is struggling to hold aloft a lady he was going to carry away and drop, a flap, another flap and they are careening in to the top of a van, thudding off of it.
The Blob isn't exactly attacking anyone intentionally right now, his rage at the psychic assault inspired his violent re-enactment of Chris Farley's FatGuy in a little coat swirl. The thundering giant wobbles and collapses to one knee, his dance over as he tries to figure out what the hell just happened.
There is a moment as the curvy blue eyed girl pauses in her run before she takes Mateus offered hand and then instead of running inside she throws herself in to his chest, "My hero. Let me reward you!" She then plants a kiss upon him. A very potent one. Her primary 'mutant' power activatinng. The secondary of controlling all of these people in to violent emotion bled off with Iceman's snowstorm. She will then step back and smirk, "Frosty ruined my fun time to make some new." A pouty face.
The one-eyed blond is hovering, arms folded and prepared for retaliation. Nate's attack on him is met with a TK barrier. An impressive one. The smirk of Scion is matched. A splinter crackling through the stranger's own TK defenses but it will take much more than that.
That redhead doing her combat dance forcing Illyana's actions looks quite disappointed and confused when Magik vanishes with Wolverine. Rushing to the edge of the rooftop she immediately starts to look for a new target. The Blob. A grin and she lifts her hands up above her head.
The Blob stops his confusion, "Uh oh." He says. "It's happenin' again." reaching over he picks up a parked teal blue Prius in one hand. "Oh cmon, not one of these. This aint even a car. This is a girly plug." Gross but hes stomping towards Nate with it. "Sorry pal. Looks like you're gonna get killed. I ain't in control of my own functions." -thompthomp- A deliberate stomp. The redhead is having fun, a sadistic peel of ruby painted lips shows off white teeth as in sync with Fred "Blob" Dukes she moves.

When Mattias is crashed into by the blue-eyed girl, he wraps a meaty arm around her shoulders and turns his hips, attempting, in first, to drag her in the direction of the coffee house, to safety. So focused he is on the fight that he barely hears her above the screaming, barely registers that she's on her toes, moving to kiss him. "I'm just doing what's right." Mattias Deputy Dog's it, but when she kisses him, the carbon fiber snap baton tumbles from his fingers and his body begins to spasm. A shiver rocks over Mattias' body as his knees go weak and he drops into the ice and snow, eyes rolling back in his head and fingers digging into the concrete, twisting.
Whatever Mattias, Son of Lars, is experiencing, it looks far more fun than the fight around him. For the moment, the Swede has been checked out on a fifteen minute break to 'Intense PleasureTown'.

Nate gladly accept the challenge, preparing another, strongest blast but then… there is this lull, and he steps back, calling upon a telekinetic sheath to protect himself. Where is everyone? Then a slow glance is given at Blob.
“You serious?” Well, of course, he is too dumb to make up that story. “Mind-control, uh? Maybe I can fix that. Hold on.” He peers into Blob’s mind, trying to find the channels that are being used to mind control him. If they are clear, he tries to launch a telepathic blast through them. To the controller.
If Blob takes some feedback, well, he probably deserves it.

Laura's posture has drastically changed from that of Coffee, to her fight with the Achor-Remedials, and nearly going toe to toe with… A friend she knows enough to know would require the claws whether liking the need or not.
And this woman who is making this all occur.
The fist that forms is small in comparison to the full extent of the duality of adamantium claws that protrude and arch over the human under/lying/ appearance. Her shoulders are squared, her spine is straight, her walk is even rigid. Stiff as she looks into the pool with a chill to that virescent gaze, set to a narrow while nostrils flare.
The disk opens and Illyan is regarded, that cold only cracking with the flash of teeth in a smile. She shouldn't be so small with so much compacted rage inside, but it is about to let out. "Better keep up."
A flowing motion and Laura lowers, those claws pushing from toes of boots to anchor her and launches her in the head start run towards the disk she leaps through to come out on the other side:
Sailing through from where dropped, Laura is coming out just above the roof and behind the red head, but since her exact landing was unknown it took Laura the .5 seconds to resituate her landing,manipulated into a twist of her body like a feline seeking to land on its feet during a fall from second story.
A landing had, silent save for the /SCRAPE/ when Laura lunges for the woman in instant rebound, attempting to lodge claws into her shoulder and draw her back from the edge of the roof like a fish on a hook!

With Mattias down in his world of Unicorns and Rainbows the blue-eyed girl trudges through the snow shivering, clutching to herself towards the red and black clad man. She heard the orders. No need to linger.
On that rooftop that redhead shrieks as Nate's telepathic assault hits her and he can feel not one but many minds? Much like Rogue but not quite. It's brief and while shes reeling from it a claw sinks in to her shoulder, Laura's delivery by Illyana a smooth execution. That cry of pain grows louder yet, physical and mental pain amplifid together.
The Blob with Prius poised to slap Nate with it jacks his head back suddenly and lets out an, "Ow." Psychic feedback through his head in a scream and pressure. He wobbles, discards the car and almost sits down on Mattias instead just dropping a barnsized buttocks next to him on the ground. "I just wanted a damned hoagie." HIs fingers rubbing roughly at his skull. He's got a serious migraine. He can't even see straight right now.
That man in crimsons and blacks snaps his head towards the sound of his teammates cry, a hand reaches up and curls in, telekinetic 'fingers' coil around Wolverine and pick her up in the air, crush down and squeeze then launch her off the building. $E$E"FOR MUTANTS EVERYWHERE!" He yells loud. He makes sure it's heard. "DOWN WITH GENOSHA! DOWN WITH OPPRESSION!" And then his arms sweep in a double gesture, almost like hes an Airbender or practicing Tai Chi. Much of that snow and ice that Bobby has falling down on them explodes outwards, bursts high and like a tidal wave blankets the streets. Swirling around, in an obscuring curtain of white. $E$EAs it starts to clear the three are gone. There is blood on the rooftop but no sign of the redhead. The assaulting trio of "Brotherhood" retreated. Only the Blob remains behind.

Twitching on the ground, every nerve ending on fire, Mattias flutters his eyes open through the pleasure left in him by the shivering villain-girl just in time to see the Blob's backside about to crush down next to him. "Oh god, no-" Mattias blinks and kicks his foot to scurry out of the way, but he's left, momentarily, forehead pressed to the side of the Blob's thigh in his protest. Awkward thing to share, Mattias rolls onto his stomach and pants, the sensation leaving the further away the woman gets. "-damn it, watch where you're sitting." Mattias shakes his head, eyes dizzied and clear, before giving the Blob a shove and finding his footing.
Only to find more psychic pain waiting for him. The meter tilts the other direction, and with a wince, the sensory-overload prone Swede clutches the side of his head and dips down to collect his collapsible baton.
"Somebody make her stop that!" Mattias pries his eyes open, continuing his limp towards the car where the news anchor is hiding. "Can anyone get an eye on the wounded?"

“Gotcha,” there is a moment of satisfaction and then the redhead with manyfold minds gets stabbed. Nate winces, feeling it through the telepathic-empathic channel he opened for the attack. “Laura, damnit,” he holds his head with a hand and ends that oblique and unstable attack. Blob got the worst of it, heh.
No matter, now he has the mental signature he can really punch that mind. So he looks up, sees Laura flying, and before he can catch her he gets buried under the tidal wave of ice and snow. There is some muffled cursing. No, actually there is a lot of muffled cursing.

Fred looks over at Mattias, "Hey, you watch where you're flopping around like a spastic fish goldilocks." The massive brute isn't making a move to help anyone. His hands just remaining on his head. "Feel like I'm gonna ralph. Hurp. HURP… " SPLOSH snow is painted with the sounds of a slop bucket. (dialoguessss)

"Keep up?" Illyana says with mock outrage, shaking her head, and is through the portal only seconds after Wolverine.
Of course, in those seconds everything has changed. Illyana drops lightly onto the rooftop, Soulsword flaring with silver-white light in her hand, hunting for the redheaded telepath - just in time to see Wolverine picked up, crushed down, and then flung right off the roof. Illyana spares a fraction of a second to direct a disgusted look at the bleeding telepath. She'll have to keep, Illyana has a friend to catch. A flash of light, and Illyana's gone from the roof. An instant later, and she's standing knee-deep in a snow drift. Cold, since she's only wearing shorts!
Illyana's eyes track upwards, finding Laura, and a portal opens right in front of her, delivering her to a more gentle landing on the snow nearby. Illyana looks over at Mattias and calls out an answer to his question. "Got one here." She'd be more concerned if it was someone WITHOUT a healing factor. "See if you can find Nate and dig him out." Of course, Nate is assumed to be indestructible.
Illyana looks around at the wreckage surrounding them. "I'm glad I don't do our PR."

"Fokk, I don't even have the desire right now to punch you in the head, Blob." Mattias grunts to the man and waves his baton his way in warning. A few steps later, he slaps the stick into the ground to collapse it, then stows it. "Thanks," Mat calls out to Ilyana, stopping by the door to the car the reporter is hiding in. He fishes out his phone and fires off a quick text message to Cyclops:

"Can that one be transported down to the cops?" Mat calls out to the others, then turns and knocks on the door of the car the newscaster is hiding in. "Hang on tight, I'm gonna get you out of here, alright?" Mattias moves to the front and begins to push the car back towards the news van. "You're safe now, boss."

It's all fun and games, until someone - Picks you up, squeezes you like a toy in a massive hulking TK fist until Laura can hear her own bones breaking, feel the pressure build behind her eyes and parts of her give way to make the tossed figure look like a rag doll as she is launched across the aerial from the third story.
It could have been worse! Illyana could have -not- caught her and added to that form that was crumed like a wad of paper and pitched to the winds… But landing gentler from a disk to roll across the snow and lay there twisted and face down in a snow drift. Her body is bent, her back twisted, hips almost skyward while torso and face are buried, there is black and blue already forming along the splay of rib cage and the skin stretched over the tiny form, blood spatters next to where her head is buried, steam rising from contrast of body heat and… Breath..
Slow deliberate, labored, but she alive, even the wrist twisted and the disjointed shoulder shudder in the massive mangling.
One good arm presses and Laura is slowly lifting herself from the snow, the blood pooling from lips melting tiny red circles into the white like a Rorscach. A pant, a fog of that heavy air on wavering lungs and the feral growl that omits is followed by a bitten back pitch of vocals when she forced her body into a roll that realigns her bones in a stuccato of pops. But at least now she is fully on her back and not half and half.
Give her to the count of 10, she'll be okay!
A look then to Illy, her head dipping once more in a nod of thanks.

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