It's Her Specialty

October 02, 2018:

Amara chooses to return to the USA in the middle of a demon invasion. The kind of demon invasion that puts her in mind of an old friend. Fortunately Siryn is in the area to help her out.

(NOTE: This scene takes place shortly before the airports in New York were closed down)

JFK International Airport


NPCs: Lots of terrified passengers and airport staff

Mentions: Magik, Professor X


Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

A stream of flame immolates something that looks vaguely like a giant octopus, if giant octopi grew to the size of small buses, had a variable number of tentacles and at least seven eyes. Oh, and climbed out of the sea to menace the door to the arrivals hall at JFK airport. The octopus-thing lets out a high, keening scream that sends already panicked bystanders and airport staff scurrying for cover, but the fiery assault doesn't let up until the creature dissolves into a puddle of dark goo that hisses and pops on the superheated paving outside.

The individual responsible for the impromptu octopus barbecue steps out into the frankly bizarre light pulsing from the wounded sky. Fire still crawls around the young woman's right hand and arm as high as her elbow, the skin beneath miraculously unblemished. In fact, it almost seems that little flickers of flame are playing around her blonde hair, too. Not seeming remotely concerned that she's on fire, and only slightly more concerned about the thing she just incinerated, she takes a quick look around for any more immediate threats, then raises her head to look at the multi-coloured sky that's vomiting demons all over New York. It's quite a sight to take in, but after a moment, in a tone that suggests she's talking to herself, she says, "Illyana, if this is your excuse for making me fly coach? At least it's a good one."

Amara Juliana Olivians Aquilla, late of Nova Roma and one time X-Man, is not having a good first day back in America.

It's only been a little while since Dani Moonstar and Theresa had first met, and dealt with, a number of demons. It seems like days ago, really. Thankfully the Beat Street warehouse was unoccupied and a semi-safe area that Dani and Terry were able to secure and set up for refuges in the area. Admittingly, there were not many.

After Dani left to get help, the idea of staying in the Beat Street warehouse was - just not going to do. Siryn needed to be out there, helping in better ways. She also needed to see for herself the extent of what was going on in New York.

She really hadn't planned on flying this far from her shop. She didn't plan on dodging flying demons, nor taking down several more that decided she looked like a tasty fly. Siryn really didn't expect to see an enormous Octopus get fried to a crisp at the air-port EITHER.

It's this sudden and powerful display that catches Terry's eyes, as the red-head sweeps downwards, and a voice over Amara's shoulder in a thick, Irish accent offers a dry. "Aye. Oi never cared for Cthulhu either, lass. Tho ye certainly did a number on him."

Even after the demon stops screaming, there's plenty of other noise to mask Siryn's approach. Mostly shouting - people yelling for friends and family they've been separated from, airport staff shouting conflicting and mostly nonsensical instructions that the human herd seems determined to ignore in any case. Some people still screaming as if they think it'll help. Plus the noise of car horns and the occasional crunch as a driver tries to bull their way through the gridlock and the inevitable happens.

Under the circumstances, a calm, Irish-accented voice at Amara's shoulder is unexpected and a bit startling. She spins around, the flames licking at her hair flaring a little brighter but then fading back as soon as she gets a good look at the woman in green and yellow who's arrived behind her. Amara starts to say something that looks like it begins with a 'B' before catching herself, and trying, "…Siryn?" Instead. Banshee's daughter, right? Right. "Amara." She introduces herself, before belatedly remembering protocol, if it even still applies during demon invasions. "Or Magma." She adds with a quick smile. "Whichever you prefer." She looks up at the crazy sky again, then forces herself to look away. Something about it is horribly fascinating, and she's pretty sure that's not a good thing. "What's going on? My plane ate a demon and we barely got down on one engine."

A wry grin spreads itself over the Irish woman's expression, as her gaze moves towards the flicker of flames about Amara's form, then to the chaos surrounding the airport. "Aye. Siryn. Nice ta see one of Charles' students here as well. Yuir lucky ta be on the ground, from all Oi have heard, they'll be closin' tha airport down until this madness ends." A beat, and Theresa lands directly next to Amara, no longer hovering. As she does so, a panic stricken man goes careening into Theresa, forcing the red-head to stumble backwards, and give the terrified person a fairly good shove out of her way. "Watch where yuir freakin' out." She offers in a very non-helpful nor sympathetic manner.

"Perhaps." She begins, one hand holding outwards towards Amara. "If ye lower yuir flames a wee bit, we should be lookin' for a different place ta be talkin'." Her thick accent drawls out the words even as Siryn's once again lifting upwards. "There is nae a t'ing we can do right here, other than bein' in tha way."

If Siryn can be casual about hell coming to New York, Amara's just going to have to match her. Her pride wouldn't suffer anything less. "The pilot was telling us we'd have to divert when he lost the engine. He forgot to turn the intercom off." That was less than fun, the flight crew talking about how screwed they were all the way down had turned the cabin into a near riot. Amara definitely feels lucky to be on the ground.

"I need to call in." Amara begins, reaching into a pocket for her phone and flipping (yes, flipping, she's been gone a while) it open as Theresa lands. "They can't NOT know, but…" and that's as far as she gets before an idiot tries to run Theresa over. Amara just manages to stop herself grabbing for the man - one hand is holding her phone, the other is still on fire - but Theresa clearly doesn't need her help. Her eyes follow the man as he stumbles off, and she mutters something under her breath in Latin that sounds uncomplimentary. Shaking her head, she looks down at her phone, keys in a number, and then grimaces when it fails to connect. "They cut off my service. Didn't anyone know I was coming back?" Despite the chaos all around, she still sounds half disgusted and half disappointed.

Stuffing her phone back in her pocket, Amara takes a last look around and is forced to agree. "You're right." The flames die away, and Amara takes the offered hand in a firm grip. "I managed not to crash once today already. Don't drop me."

Clasping Amara's hand, Theresa's head bobs, gaze sweeping about just once for any stray luggage (or demons). With a burst of soft sound that only an animal might hear, Theresa's immediately in the air, soundwaves keeping both her and Amara aloft.

From the height that Siryn goes, the city is displayed before them, hordes of demons continue to drop from the sky, or burst forth from portals. It's like Hell on Earth. The Apocalypse. Something straight out of the very worst parts of the Bible where it described the 'End Days'.

Theresa's path towards a safer location is suddenly met with a pair of flying demonic figures which let out a shrill note as they suddenly careen towards Siryn and Magma. Sweeping downward to avoid is enough to cause any stomach to jump, much like a horrific rollar coaster ride.

Theresa's fingers tighten about Amara's wrist and hand, as the red-head begins to swiftly head towards a small clearing not far from the Beat Street warehouse. The flying demons are very much on their trail. "Tuck and roll, Magma.." Is the only warning that Siryn is going to give to Magma to indicate Amara is about to get a very abrupt landing.

In defiance of all common sense, there are plenty of people trying to flee while carrying large suitcases, or trying to stuff clothes back inside cases that've split in the attempt. Amara is not one of these. Her luggage is still on the plane. She'll just have to run the risk that it'll be eaten by demons or lost by the airport when (if?) things get back to normal. Amara hasn't flown Air Siryn before, and half expects to be deafened when the other woman takes off. It's a pleasant surprise not to be.

What's less pleasant is the sight of the city spread out below. Amara didn't get a good look at the scale of the demonic incursion from the small window on the plane, but now she can be under no illusions how bad the situation is. "…Gods have mercy." She breathes, her words snatched away in the slipstream, and then, more firmly, "We have to find Illyana." Amara has a certain horrible suspicion, but even if she's right she doesn't know anyone other than the Russian sorceress who could even try to stop what's happening to the city.
Amara's horrified trance is broken by a cry that didn't come from a human throat, and her head snaps up, seeking… and finding the demons an instant before Siryn takes evasive action. "I can try to hit…" Amara just gets out before she has to clamp her teeth together to stop her in-flight meal from escaping.

It takes a couple of moments of level flight for Amara's stomach to stop doing back flips, and by then she's got her own death grip on Theresa's wrist. She takes a breath and tries to glance behind them to find the demons again - and then her fingers grasp on to Theresa even tighter. "You're not serious?" She demands…

…and then discovers just how very serious Theresa is when she lets go. There's a moment where she feels absolutely weightless, as if she's suspended in the air, and then old reflexes kick in. Arms and legs come up, curling into a ball, and then there's the shock of impact that drives the breath from her body. For a couple of seconds everything is confusion as she rolls over and over, and then she's on her back, trying to make her lungs work again.

Amara only stays that way for long enough to figure out which way is up, and then she's pushing her bruised body into a crouch. "I asked her not to drop me." She says in a pained tone, shaking her head and instantly regretting it as the world spins. Squeezing her eyes shut and then opening them, she scans the sky, looking for Siryn.

It will not be too difficult to at least /hear/ Siryn, for the sound of her wail is loud and clear, echoing far into the sky. The instant that Theresa let go of Amara's wrist, allowing Magma to fall from not /too/ far of a height, Siryn's form was spinning about in mid-air. The demons were expecting a flight, not a fight. Thus they were not prepared for the concussive soundwaves to come at them, knocking them both into the side of a billboard proclaiming the newest Stark Tech cell-phone.

As the demonic flying monsters begin to get up, Siryn's not quite done with them, her mouth parts and she lets loose with a sonic lance that is not only deafening, but causes the creatures to go into spasms of pain - followed by a stillness that is almost unnatural. Then again, nothing about this entire event is /natural/.

So intent upon taking care of the two flying creatures, Siryn doesn't notice a third coming inbound, this one not on wings, but instead romping across the wide street filled with abandoned cars, though everything else is surprisingly empty and devoid of human life.

Amara tilts her head to one side. Siryn's not hard to hear, but the buildings are setting up some echoes… no, there she is! Amara's head turns, eyes finding the flash of green and yellow, and the pursuing demons. Amara grins, and her hair seems to go up in flames as her powers ignite, framing her face like a halo of fire. Her hands are burning, too, as her eyes fix onto the demons. "Come on, bring them to me…" She says, under her breath, waiting for her shot. She's going to burn the demons right off Siryn's tail…

And then Siryn pirouettes and takes them both out. The look of anticipation drops right off Amara's face. "Fine then. Do it yourself." She says, sounding a little irritated, and her flames die away as she climbs back to her feet, dusting off her jeans - which will need more effort than that to make them presentable again. Straightening up, she cups her hands around her mouth, about to yell up to Theresa, when she hears metal twist and glass shatter.

Amara turns around and, as expected, there's a demon, the car it's just shoved out of its way looking much the worse for wear. Flames roar back into life around Amara, and a blast of fire staggers the demon. Amara drops to one knee, but she's not spent, not by a long way. She has something else in mind. Pushing her free hand against the ground, palm down, she feels the street beneath the demon, even as she continues to bathe it in flame. A moment's concentration - and the street opens up beneath it like a giant maw. The demon falls, and Amara closes her fist. The ground ripples, and the chasm snaps shut, with just a little spurt of demonic ichor to show where the creature's been crushed between walls of rock and concrete.

"Any more coming?" Amara yells up to Siryn, unsure if she'll be heard.

The sound of the oncoming demon catches Siryn off guard, though she doesn't have anything to worry about, as the very ground beneath it opens up and sucks the creature into it. Quiet now, Theresa lowers herself down to the ground, gesturing to the warehouse situated not far away. "Earlier Oi met Dani Moonstar, Oi nae know if she's returned or not, but that's the safest place, at least so far."

As Siryn begins to walk towards the destination, her hand gestures to the ground. "Nice trick." She offers with a wry grin. "I have nae idea who this Illyana may be, but given yuir taste in cell phones, and lack of service, if there's any cell service left in this entire fecking city, ye can borrow my phone and try and give her a call. Any help, aye?"

With that Siryn leads Amara to the warehouse, there to barracade the door after they get inside, and hopefully stay relatively safe, at least for the time being.

Amara's still burning as she scans the street, expecting more demons to appear at any moment, but when Theresa alights she takes it as a sign they're not about to be attacked again. The flames - and the oppressive heat - vanish as if they never were. Theresa's first words bring an honest grin to Amara's face. "Dani's here? And she's all right? That's the second bit of good news I've had today." She falls in step with Theresa as she walks toward the warehouse. "You turning up at the airport was the first." She adds, apparently not holding a grudge that Theresa dealt with the first two demons without her help.

Stepping over the jagged, but thin crack in the street that's the only evidence of her excavations, Amara returns Theresa's grin. "Thanks. I had to do something or you'd have taken all of them."

Theresa gets a surprised look from Amara when Illyana is mentioned. She clearly didn't think she'd been overheard. She's searching for a way to describe Illyana when the crack about her phone makes her grimace ruefully. She pulls the ancient device out of her pocket, glances at it, and puts it away again. "I've been… off the grid?" She says the words like she's trying them out, as if she's not sure she's using the right term. "For a while. We can try to call the school on yours, at least." Privately, she doubts that'll work, but they have to try.

"Illyana's a friend." Amara says at length, as they reach the door to the warehouse. "At least, she was before she made me fly coach from Rio. This sort of thing…" She waves a hand to indicate the insanity that's overtaken New York, "…is her specialty."

There was just the slightest of pauses. Amara's too loyal to voice the suspicion at the back of her mind. But it won't go away, even as they fortify the warehouse and plan their next move.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License