Hamburgler or Sasquatch?

August 14, 2018:

Cyclops, Storm, Banner and Drake go on a field trip. (Language)


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Restless as Scott usually is he has found an excuse to seek a short field trip, the edge of Westchester county and near dark the X-Men's /boyscout/ is pulling an SUV to a stop just near a wooded area, this is perhaps Drake's first official/unofficial mission.

An arm thrown over the back of the drivers seat so he can look back at the younger man his red visor illuminated in the dim lighting, only the front console offering visibility. Scott has even killed the headlights.

"Follow our lead, use only your mutant name and keep close. We're investigating first before we go in blazing… it's best we complete this under the cover of darkness and with as minimal attention as possible." Or so he has been advised by the X-Men's DEO Liaison.

A look to the passenger seat at Storm, "You good?" He asks before he will step out of the vehicle and look out towards the forested area along the secluded highway. It is eerie out, a nice breeze here and there but largely just… still.

Costumes are a thing right now. He is in that full body deep navy blue suit that leaves only his jaw and mouth visible. The Nubian Goddess, known as Storm, is watching outside of the SUV's wide open window as the scenery passes them by, remaining relatively silent as a hand twirls the long end of her mohawk that rests over one cloaked shoulder.

Once they finally stop, she pitches the ends away from the silver lining of her cloak and quickly opens the door to the "cramped" vehicle - Somewhere along the way her dark skin took on a shade of green and she was holding back the desire to be ill. "Perfectly fine," A thumbs up over her shoulder to Cyke as every step seems to elevate her from the ground into the open air, where she prefers to be.

"Opening communications for Cyclops, Storm…" A glance to Drake, a lift of pale brow in query. Was that ever given?

Costumes are a thing? Codenames are a thing? Drake has neither! He was only /just/ inducted into this group, and he hadn't settled on anything. He was knee-deep in research trying to find something that, one, sounded cool, and two, wasn't already taken by a known super-entity. "I don't have a mutant name," he mentions. As far as costuming goes, he had to use something totally generic and not at all of his choice. It's a simple black bodysuit featuring the black-and-red X on the left pectoral. He's not stoked about the lack of individuality, but he's not fussy about it. After all, he's new to the group. What's he gonna do?

But what it sounds like is something that he could most definitely help with. Drake's background is in stealth, larceny, breaking and entering… the list goes on, but if they need infiltration, he's not a bad choice. "Just let me know what you want me to do, uh, Cyclops. Storm."

"It'll come to you for now we'll use a codename." Scott says quietly giving Storm a wary look,

"Just keep with Storm and Cyclops for us you… " He considers but doesn't say one yet, leaning in to his vehicle again he pops open the passenger glove compartment, a ballcap coming out. He looks it over then hands it to Drake. A rather distinctive blue and yellow one that a keen eye will recognize - X Logo hard to mistake.

"We're looking for a suspected mutant that trashed a road blockade earlier. Local incident, didn't make the news but it popped up as enough of a concern our friends with the DEO tossed us the bone, all part of keeping us on the same footing." As best as that can be managed for them at least, a look back to the other rider, this is a first Scott's been around the Doctor since he has been back. Not much has been offered in the way of dialogue for now but he offered to take him out of if was feeling it, "You want to hang back or come along?"

"Um," Dr. Banner says, stalling a little bit. He turns his eyes out of the window, as if the answers might be there. He pats his palms together a few times. A glance at him would certainly read him as nervous, or new, or both. Some mild anxiety, really. He's second guessed all over his coming along on this, but at some point he has to start testing his own limits of control. It may as well be on relaxed, relatively safe missions. Unless he's going to cause problems, which… well. Banner realized he was quiet too long, and laughs softly, "Both. I'll stay to the back, but come along," he offers, in his reserved way. He gives Drake Riley a brief, calm smile.

Dr. Banner is certainly an unknown: he hasn't shown any power nor would most be aware of who or what he does. He DID make an effort to mesh with the group, although he's shifted uncomfortably in the snug black pants a few times. No bodysuit; separates. And a black zippered jacket over it, with yellow stripes on the sleeves. All worn awkwardly, somehow. But the effort was made. Finally. It's taken a long time for Dr. Banner to come out even this far.

"Junior." Storm states to finalize the connection her husky voice full of jest, and Banner is queued into the communications based on proximity - wanted or not.

Just as Drake is holding a past in thievery, larceny, stealth… At one point, so had Storm. From Cyclops to Drake, her eyes shift and one corner of lips curl into a small shadowed grin, a light nod offered to Dr. Banner as he speaks up, albeit under control and well timed. A moment of focus and the mohawked head tilts to peer through the tint of the SUV window to the, "Doctor."

Storm is lofting into the air, slowly, a shift in position only to dodge the branches and foliage of her altitude. She would not dare call him Softball. A flicker of that pale blue gaze towards Cyclops, even as she remains silent on the addition of the Doctor into their relay over the comms. "Whats the plan, Captain?"

A statement and a name, even if a off-key Code-Name for the man beside Drake in the ride. "I am ready." Stated to Cyclops with an affirming nod.

"Junior?," asks Drake, deflated. "Lame."

He is /so/ making a codename his priority when they get back.

Drake looks to Banner, having never met him before. He doesn't even know anything about him, really. Though that could be said of most people associated with the Institute. Still, he flashes an awkward smile, the weight of his given codename still dampening his disposition. "Are you like a medical doctor, or..?" Beat. "Wrong time to ask, sorry." He redirects his gaze to Cyclops, and the grins widens. God, the costuming. That's so rad. "Ready when you are, capitanne."

"Whatever makes you comfortable, Doctor." Scott says, he is unsure if Drake and Banner have been introduced in his absence but doesn't broach that subject just yet. "Vague. We're about to find out… "

"You're overwatch, Storm, get above the trees and see if you cannot work on getting us some illumination."

The trees at these hours though thin and bushy during the day look skeletal and omnious, like fur-covered claws jutting up out of a grey blasted landscape one covered in reflective ghostly fronds, it is hard to pierce the shadow and gloom with eyes alone, at least normal ones.

"She is teasing." Scott says about the nickname, "Consider it a rare Storm version of affectionate."

The silence of night almost loud now that the engine is cut off, this strip of road not traveled often, not so much so they need to worry about traffic sounds. Their voices carry. No animals call out… perhaps an added eerie aspect.

This is what makes a singular twigsnap in the void beyond incredibly loud, a resounding noise. It could just be the tree line settling but then again…

Banner's calm, but there's nerves under it. He doesn't seem to have any issue with Drake's question: hardly; he answers him. "More a physicist," he says, deadpan, then with a quirk of smile. "But if you hurt yourself, I can help. I'm more… backup. But. ….Ideally, I'll do nothing." Ideally. He does something substancial and the mission has probably already gone pear-shaped. He falls quiet, looking to Cyclops now, and fiddling with the communicator in his possession, adjusting volume on it. Just something to do, really.

Storm lets Cyclops speak for her 'joking manner', as he knows it best, but he also knows that it comes with a cattle-prod of a JOLT to have one strive above the simple nickname.

Which it already seems Drake is aspiring to do, causing the shadowed grin to grow as she ascends in a whisper through the skeletal shadowed branches, only one leaf falling…

But as she enters into the canopy and gently pushes aside the greenery the clouds that pillow and smother the moons light build up into cumulus bulk where the Anvil Lightning begins to spark from one peak of forming nimbus to the next, adding to the dim of the lunar cast across the ground below.

… Where a SNAP becomes a focus as energy builds. "Do not let them be humble, Junior." A play on words to the trio on ground - Storm's team, and family.

"Oh, so like a scientist," concludes Drake to Banner. "Is that your power? Science?" His mind is instantly filled with all the rampant 'Science!' memes that made the rounds a few years ago…

Drake follows after Cyclops out of the vehicle, and the sound of the snap immediately draws his attention. His left hand lifts, open palm turned to the sky for reasons undisclosed. His immediate inclination is to produce something similar to Storm, but in his palm. It would look /much/ less natural, though, and more likely to draw attention to them. So he's holding back. Her additional little lightshow may be sufficient.

That said, he's doing exactly as he's expected. He's holding back and letting Cyclops be the proverbial canary. He's just letting his own soft focus cover the peripherals, ears proverbially pricked and eyes focusing through the shadows for unnatural movement. Drake adjusts the earpiece that came with the outfit. There really wasn't much to it, but it seemed to be functioning. He can hear Storm in his ear. He doesn't necessarily understand what she means, though. He waits for Scott to get out, then tilts his head to peer towards her curiously, but it doesn't linger. He's keeping track of their surroundings.

Cyclops glances over his shoulder at Bruce and Drake as they talk then steps forward, over the ditch and up the other side of it towards the trees, hes no hunter, stalker or woodsman but has learned to walk with some measure of stealth, the red wash of the world still as hard for him to pierce as everyone else with functional color capable eyes.

As if triggered and sourced up on that twigsnap Storm is reacting with the creation of a 'sheet' of lightning, a flash near and above that produced sound that brightens up the area briefly. A reflection of two bright discs fires back towards them, high, perhaps around seven or eight feet up and very clearly an animals or otherwise. The outline of it not able to be made out entirely but it has bulk.

"There." Scott says quietly, a fingertip pointing.

"Whatever or whoever it is it is they are not running."

"In a manner of speaking, yes, actually. But if it comes to it, please make sure I'm hit, instead of you," Dr. Banner says before they get out of the car, with a measure of a sort of quiet dismay, or perhaps feeling torn about the situation. A reluctant 'hero' for sure, by all appearances. He climbs out of the vehicle without any grace really, or much awareness. He stepped in something, and is distracted by looking under his boot to see what it was, instead of looking attentively anywhere else. Until there are outlines of discs, that is. Spotting those, Bruce is immediately focused and staying somewhat low, quiet, and simply keeping up: bringing up the rear, much as he said he would.

The tilt in attention and curiousity from Drake has Storm's head tilting to the Doctor, "Humble." Cyclops. "Humble… Jerk." He had it coming for making her ride incognito in the SUV. So now perhaps he understands her as her own curiousity builds with the arcing of light from one to the next and then seemingly dissipate like an arch-light without contact.

It is the silhouette behind them that has her looking towards Banner and then Cyclops before the accented words ring across the comm unit to them all. "I think we found Big Foot." Storm states as the eyes glow incandescent against the lightning, only giving them back a reflection of eyes and a massive shadow, but enough of mass that has a low rumble of thunder forming in the atmosphere around Storm, building in the heat and humidity around them!

"Oh yeah, sure, no problem," replies Drake quietly to Banner. It's more a joke coming from him, though, as he's not likely to use someone who may well not be as tough as himself as a meatshield. He really doesn't know anything about the Good Doctor!

The discs light up, and Drake "Junior" Riley freezes. After a beat, he begins moving forward, notably silent, measured, and at an appreciable clip. He's quite used to navigating tricky terrain with minimal sound, and it likely shows. Weight shifts cleanly from leg to leg, his balance largely on the fore his feet, and with periodic low glances to enssure he isn't crunching an errant leaf or brittle twig. In this sense, he may overtake Cyclops in positioning, but he'll only half the distance between their party and the.. whatever it is.

The elevated hand finally comes into play. Energy coalesces into his palm, creating an ionized packet or churning, roiling brilliant blue electricity. They're going to need to see more clearly down here, and this is creating a nice, steady, if flickering low-light ambience to work with. Naturally, Drake realizes this might spook whatever they're approaching, so he attempts a nice, soothing voice: "Heeeyyy, buuuddy~… don't freak out, okaaay~?"

The flicker-flash of lightning arcs offers the sporadic illumination in that darkness to give the witness to the bulky thing turning away from them, it's eyes disappearing them coming back there was as something else does too. A tree. It has just thrown a tree at them and Drake is in the lead position.

Scott was about to try the diplomatic approach, a show of palms, and a 'we come in peace' gesture but thats awful hard to do when dodging a massive piece of Mother Nature and trying to snare the X-Men trainee in the process, a set of fingers hooking at the back of his neck and shoulders.

Humble Jerk response is just a shouted, "MOVE NOW!"

The sounds beyond the tree equally alarming as the ground trembles, a large frame rushes and bowing to snapping of more trees overtakes the night alongside the slow rise of thunderous atmosphere.

A roar erupts from this thing, murky and indistinguisable beyond a bulky glowing eyed tree hurtling brute. It's violent approach putting it in line with the X-Men and of course Doctor Banner.

Doctor Humble can't really keep up, but also doesn't really try to. He's coming along in the back, staying out of the way for now, and is certainly slower than the other more athletic people. Drake easily clears way past him to surge ahead. Banner doesn't have a problem with it, nor speed up, though he does stop and get better footing as the ground trembles, alarmed but remaining calm. He stays still where he is, stance wide, watching the hurtling tree go veering past. The arrival of the brute, of course, is similarly alarming.

Banner freezes where he is for now, after dropping somewhat lower behind a section of raised earth. He can hope he's probably uninteresting, as he's the furthest away, giving him a least a few spare moments to watch to see what happens. Running directly into a fight is an escalation he doesn't prefer.

Humble Jr. (Pun intended) is approaching the massive stranger like one would a rabid puppy in hopes the foaming jaw is Cool-Whip from a dumpster. "Oh Mother…" Storm whispers as Drakes own conduit lights up the very base of the massive hulking creature that uproots a redwood and launches it like a povolt gone sideways!

Cyclops is on Drake, Dr. Humble is shading from the 'Bumble' that has a Bass Deep challenging roar, echoed with the building thunder in clouds that are gathering just above their canopy.

From Storms fingertips her own gathering of electricity sparks like additional fingers across the sky but instead of upward they pass towards the earth, one strike coursing down a tree beside the Massive Foe of theirs! Flames and sparks emit for a single moment in an attempt to distract. "I was simply trying to get you all to stop being so…" A flick of wrist. Humble is not even correct, but Storm exhales and with that gust there is a slight change in the winds, a gust rising in attempt to slow the projectile tree headed for them while the forest floor is turned into an isolated light show, revealing the Beast in strobe effect!

Drake Riley was being patient, gentile as can be, the display of powers notwithstanding. And now there's a tree flying at him.

"Oh, hamburgers."

Before Humble Junior can duck out of the way himself, Humble Jerk has tackle-yanked him out of the way! Footing thrown, he hits the earth in a graceless heap, impact punctuated with an undignified, "Hff!" But once he's down and the earth is shaking, he quickly pulls away to roll aside, clearing the lumbering whatsit's path. Only then does he pop up to all fours, blinking at the obscure shape. "Want me to bring it down?," he asks, likely directed towards Cyclops. But he wouldn't hold it against anyone for weighing in on that question in general!

Did he say 'oh, hamburgers?'

That tree even though slowed by the conjured wind pressure careens in to the side of the SUV with an ear-splitting crash, the horn going off. The vehicle itself skittering sideways in to the center of the road.

Cyclops flip-flops to the left in to a bush and is finally stopped in momentum while Drake breaks free. The large creature looks human in shape though grosly misproportioned, legs to small supporting a narrow waist that bulks out in to a massive torso, one arm thin but hosting a forearm as round as a tire. The other arm ginormous, thickly muscled and knotted in sinew.

It's face is rounded, chubby cheeked and missing teeth, eyes bug out one small and round the other pushed out, one strip of dark blue hair hanging in a forelock.

It's ponderous looking charge not so much so, its still like a freight train charging past them even as light and lightning flicks up in the radius surrounding it.

"WARRRHHHHgh… " The sound, maybe its imitating a siren.

"YES! Bring it down!" This thing must really hate cars. Cyclops winces at the SUV now mangled and takes aim with his red optic blasts on the things backside, sending off one shot. "Doctor! Get clear… " /please/ this thing is already Hulk enough for one night.

It doesn't appear to have any particular target in mind more just… stampeding…

"I am. But call me in if you do need me to stall him," Dr. Banner answers, with mixed uncertainty in his tone into the comm. He considers, and then heads towards the car, with the intent to see if it will still run despite mangled quality. He can potentially get it out of the way or return to pick the others up. Vehicles, that he can handle, and also remove himself from making a bad situation worse.

The Massive Monstrosity bursts through the sparks, flames, and splinters of the stricken tree as if it only inspired a greater roar of rage and a further outburts to make the mis-shapen Yeti play with their SUV like a retired Hot Wheels car just as Banner is jumping inside and taking the wheel where Scott was at the beginning.

"See my sarcasm, now, guys?" Storm states in regards to calling any of the 'humble' at all when the time comes, her smile illuminated by the tiny fingers of electricity that pass through, and by the Mutant known as Storm.

"Bring it down…" But Storm seems much more…Serene about her wish for the malformed Yeti to be stopped, the updraft brought to an outward spiral and allowing the woman to descend rapidly, gravity overtaking as her hands press downward towards the beasts arms that are seeking to hold their Derby Level SUV.

Yes. Drake said hamburgers. He's a plucky youth, that one. Scott's work is cut out for him. And he still doesn't get what Storm meant! He thought his approach was pretty humble.

Upon seeing the thing illuminated, he.. feels more sorry for it. Whatever it is. If it's a mutant, it got the short end of the stick. But it's also highly destructive, and has to be brought down. So when the confirmation is given (along with equally confirming eyeblasts that are also freaking cool omg), Humble Junior pops up to his full height again. His hands raise to chest height, palms facing each other. Electricity begins to weave, arcing between his palms. Rapidly, more and more tendrils of electricity join on the central mass, causing it to intensify "What are you, an eight? A nine?," he muses as more tendrils of ionic energy join the coalescence. "No, Bertha's gotta be a size ten." He doesn't know what dress sizes are - don't over-analyze the quip. What's more important is that ehe energy has become a thick, ropey tangle of near-white.

Palms turn out, and the energy projects into a twisting beam between both hands and surging towards the monstrocity!

Scott's optic blast across it's backside forces it in a stagger forward and it near trips itself up in the trench between forested clearing and roadside. The electric lightshow growing with Drake's encouragement and Storm's already inserted atmospheric changes and sporadic display of 'zap'.

Cyclops doesn't respond to any of them, his attention following the creature's actions. "Is it drunk?" He inquires not expecting a response just as he didn't deliver.

The thing stops it's rush at the smashed SUV Banner is inside trying to start up. It turns around and puts its odd sized hands on it's belly, a belly that pops out like its had too much beer in it's life. Eyes go wider somehow and it releases a "Prettty pretty lights." Then starts to slap where theyre showing up, hopping at one then another just as Storm is now above it, no more than half a dozen feet nearby. It is… playing whack-a-mole as the electricity shows up, it has no care that its single shock of hair now sits spiked out upon it's dome in all directions.

Storm will just settle for assuming a mutual understanding, for now when it comes to her X-Family. Always.

But as the optic rays, the electrical volts, the (re)charged rise of nature, and revving failed turn-over of an engine - resounds… Why does this Mutated charge from the DEO resemble an overgrown baby… Morlock? Yes, Storm just went there.

A massive palm sweeps at her from the air where she pauses to watch and debate, drawing her from her focus and the slow snuffing of her nimbus to force her to grip and hold on to a massive bent hand that swats through the air like she was a flying plaything and then goes after the others like they are runaway gerbils to her sugar glider. "I have a theory, hold, please…" She states calmly as even the winds subside around them.

Storm is just going to rodeo this out a moment, and instead of wasting more 'Pretty Lights' on this massive infantile creature she bites its finger from her spot of safety cling. "Stop!"

If she gets smooshed by its 'strong arm', she went down fighting?

The stream of robust electricity abruptly cuts off, plunging the surroundings in so much darkness by comparison. "Uh," says Drake at the evident and complete lack of effectiveness of that much power output. "That's different." Most things tend to be put down when awash in electrical mayhem - if not for the electricity itself, but for the sheer volume of the energy projected. "So there goes /my/ pride," he remarks.

Stance widens, now on the defensive. If his electrical projections aren't going to do a darn thing, there'll need to be some alternatives. "Didn't bring tranquilizers or anything, did ya?," asides Humble Junior to Humble Jerk. "What's the game plan?"

Storm seems to answer that for him, and Drake's fine with letting her take the focus for now. He backs up a few more steps to keep skirting its range, and pauses to squint at her. Did she just bite at it? Looks like Storm has secured her place in Metal Heaven.

The hop-slam-hop-slam of the malformed giant is only halted when the lights start to fade and it loses it's targets, Storm a new confusion as shes clung to it's larger arm. Suspended there talking to his playthings. The look passing through it's features is clearly befuddled.

Like Drake the X-Men's leader wasn't able to scratch the brute either, his hits on it only discarded or ignored, at least the elctricity 'tickled' and drew it's attention. "Where light?" It almost whines in a distorted voice too big yet too small for it's huge frame.

"WHERE LIGHT!?!" It yells louder then… Storm bites it on the finger? She bit him like he was.. like his mother when he bit the other kid for taking his truck, like the dog when he cornered it. Pain, not physical but emotional strikes a chord.

It's shoulders throw back and it lets out a loud wailing cry, it's legs wobble and it drops to the ground, Storm forgotten in it's drift to enfeebled tear-jerking toddler mode, its sobbing taking over…

"Good grief." Cyclops says. "Those DEO assholes… it's got the mind of a child, it might just be a damned child!" He half-growls and starts to stalk free of his range, "Everyone stand down… Storm, good catch. H… " A pause to look at Drake, "Nice job keeping it distracted… our only casuality the truck and maybe the Doctor's desire to go on our missions."

"Can you… stop him from crying or should I give it a try?" Too many thoughts right now in Scott's mind, is it a child or just damaged, if so where are it's parents? A mutant or no? Most mutants dont change until puberty. Why did the DEO not investigate this in more depth… why the weak and misguiding intel…

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