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xavier_institute_logs2015-08-27 08:57 pm
astonishing_xmods) wrote in xavier_institute_logs2015-08-27 08:57 pm
Entry tags:
A Sinister Legacy—[Part 5] Take Notes
WHO: The sick and the recovery team
WHAT: Research theft and retrieval of the ill
WHERE: Sinister’s old mansion, outskirts of London
WHEN: Late afternoon
WARNING(S): Violence and sickness
The estate was built away from the city proper and not quite on the river, but a bit back from the water, discretely screened by well-tended trees and away from the prying eyes of tourists. The canal that led to it was maintained enough to look picturesque, but not entirely functional; it’s barely wide enough for the boat to fit—one way only—and shallow enough that the bottom occasionally scraped up alarmingly against the boat’s hull.
Some stubborn bursts of the propeller got them through, though the way back out might be more challenging.
Behind a bend they found one of the service tunnels, disused for some time but at least not collapsed. Once it was used for coal and other cargo delivered by water—including the kind that came in living mutant varieties. Nowadays it was kept securely chained and padlocked to keep out tourists and teenagers.
A snikt put an end to that.
The trip through the tunnel was uneventful, short, but dark; it was flashlights only here, all the way up the stairs that led to the mansion’s interior, the door to which Logan also handily opened. The mansion itself had…seen better days. Much better days. It’s terribly dusty, with a large amount of furniture removed and covers thrown over the rest, blank spaces on the walls where paintings were removed for storage elsewhere, along with a number of books. Some remained, as covered in dust as the rest of the furnishings.
Logan pulled off the sheet covering one of the remaining couches, sending a small cloud of dust into the air. He swatted at it with the same irritation as a man chasing away a swarm of flies, which at least made Kurt laugh. His condition had worsened significantly after the escape, and he was grateful for the chance to sit again.
It was Logan who spoke.
"Find the lab or find a place to rest; we don’t have time for sightseeing."
((OOC: The mod account will comment every so often if important details are discovered; otherwise feel free to assume the layout of the mansion on your own.))
WHAT: Research theft and retrieval of the ill
WHERE: Sinister’s old mansion, outskirts of London
WHEN: Late afternoon
WARNING(S): Violence and sickness
The estate was built away from the city proper and not quite on the river, but a bit back from the water, discretely screened by well-tended trees and away from the prying eyes of tourists. The canal that led to it was maintained enough to look picturesque, but not entirely functional; it’s barely wide enough for the boat to fit—one way only—and shallow enough that the bottom occasionally scraped up alarmingly against the boat’s hull.
Some stubborn bursts of the propeller got them through, though the way back out might be more challenging.
Behind a bend they found one of the service tunnels, disused for some time but at least not collapsed. Once it was used for coal and other cargo delivered by water—including the kind that came in living mutant varieties. Nowadays it was kept securely chained and padlocked to keep out tourists and teenagers.
A snikt put an end to that.
The trip through the tunnel was uneventful, short, but dark; it was flashlights only here, all the way up the stairs that led to the mansion’s interior, the door to which Logan also handily opened. The mansion itself had…seen better days. Much better days. It’s terribly dusty, with a large amount of furniture removed and covers thrown over the rest, blank spaces on the walls where paintings were removed for storage elsewhere, along with a number of books. Some remained, as covered in dust as the rest of the furnishings.
Logan pulled off the sheet covering one of the remaining couches, sending a small cloud of dust into the air. He swatted at it with the same irritation as a man chasing away a swarm of flies, which at least made Kurt laugh. His condition had worsened significantly after the escape, and he was grateful for the chance to sit again.
It was Logan who spoke.
"Find the lab or find a place to rest; we don’t have time for sightseeing."
((OOC: The mod account will comment every so often if important details are discovered; otherwise feel free to assume the layout of the mansion on your own.))
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[If anyone knew that, the girl that used to work for SHIELD might.]
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[By the time she got herself under control, it was too late to catch up. The doorway was blocked off with living wood, and she could barely hear the others' voices.]
[No one with them had a power like that. She backed away from the wood door a few steps, then turned and broke into a run, aiming to find someone who could help her break it down.]
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[With a sound all of the Xavier's crowd would recognize and a burst of dark purple smoke, Nightcrawler appeared behind the Nasty Boys, crouching down on top of a table as he landed.]
Here you are. I see you've been busy wizhout me, meine freunde...
[He flashes an amiable smile in the Nasty Boys' direction, in spite of his body ready to strike and the tired lines on his face.]
You know, with zhe secret passages and zhe blocked off doors, it's almost as if you've got something to hide down here.
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Shut up! All of you shut up!
[Kurt was closest, so he swung at him first.]
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[Before Ramrod could try again, he was gone in a puff of smoke -- then reappearing just behind him, dangling from a support beam overhead. He reached down to try and grab the staff away from him...]
[But his hand disappeared before he could touch it. He flickered out and in again, a look of shock and confusion on his face as he reappeared a few inches away from where he'd been and had to catch himself to keep from falling.]
Was--?!
[Smoke began to leak everywhere, accompanied by strange sounds and a faint purple glow. He tried to step back, away from friends and foes alike, but kept phasing out and in, out and in, every few seconds, with increasingly obvious panic and no control over where in the room he ended up.]
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Mr Wagner!
[Alex shifted his attention to Kurt, half-closing his eyes to make the probability vectors more visible, trying to find the bundle that made up the German mutant. But they were flickering around the room so quickly, each time he found them they'd vanish before he could even pick them apart to find the one linked to the destabilization, and he'd have to find them all over again.
He shouts across the room in German, hoping he can get Kurt to hold it together a couple seconds longer.]
Mr Wagner! Focus! I'm having trouble finding you!
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Not now, not now!
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So much for things going smoothly...
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His form lingered in each place a breath longer than it had been, but smoke continued to billow and fill the room.]
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Ramrod got back up swinging, this time for Patchouli.]
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Open this fucking door!
[Whoever was outside didn't like that, apparently. Kaede smashed her telekinetic vectors into the door again, severing the new wood as it grew in. But the door held--just.]
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She knew for a fact she wouldn't likely LAND a punch on him, but distracting him to distract George so that door could be broken open, THAT sounded like a plan!]
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Come on, Mr Wagner. ... Kurt. You can do this. Just focus on this place. I just have to find the right probability, nudge it just a bit. But I need you to stay here long enough for me to find it and push on it. Stay with us, Kurt.
[Alex forces his vision to narrow to just the probabilities around the room, ignoring the physical bodies and objects they cling to. It's like watching a million fireflies zipping around in a massive swarm. There, that cluster, there for only a few seconds, is Kurt. And now the cluster is over there. Alex mentally grabs for the cluster, trying to sort through it as quickly as he can. But then it's up by the ceiling and he's chasing after it all over again. But each time, he gets a little closer, sorts through a few more fireflies that aren't the one he's looking for.]
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I—hear you—
I'm tryi—
[His voice stops.
His teleportation stops.
The last place Kurt's body appears at is over the desk Ramrod had been standing over; he hits it, then slides bonelessly to the floor.
He doesn't answer again.]
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Ramrod's staff bounces off of Patchouli's barrier without effect, but the man's noticed something.
Namely, that the distinctive sound of Nightcrawler's power has stopped. He pulls back, looking around.]
We...killed an X-man? Shite, we—we did it, we did it, ha—!
[In his moment of gloating, he's forgotten to maintain the door...]
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That didn't stop her from being a combative little shit as usual, though.]
Something funny, asshole?
[Kaede didn't know what had happened yet. But there were enough thought-colors in this room to make her dizzy and irritable.]
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Although there is a moment of confusion, glancing about the room, What was going on? The growl stopped for a split second but then doubled at seeing Kurt. Something was wrong..even if she didn't know what.
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Stay there for now, please.
[It's the man who's crowing about killing an X-man that she directs her powers towards. She has no emotional connection with him suitable for subtle manipulation, so she goes with a powerful rush of emotions straight to his brain (guilt, regret, grief, self-hatred), like a thief giving up on lockpicks and deciding to just take a crowbar to the door.]
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Alex crumples to the floor silently, hands clutching at his temples. The pain from using his power so intense he can barely see what's going on in front of him.]
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[Carlyn's adrenaline starts to run out fast, as she's relatively easily grabbed... Hopefully someone will show up, quickly, and help her escape this.]
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Hey, no dogs allowed in h-
[He hesitated, recoiling at the blast of emotions that were all out of sorts with how giddy he should be-
-and in that moment, Patchouli's blasts hit him full in the face, knocking him out stone cold.]
Boss!
[That left George--who had latched onto Carlyn. He secured his hold on her arm and torso, jerking his hostage backwards.]
Nobody moves, hear me?
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...That is until Carlyn is grabbed. That growl gets louder and her search was getting more desperate. That had to be SOMETHING she could do without getting anyone hurt. Or maybe even a small spot she could slip into without being noticed to get closer...Anything.]
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...but Krista was standing in the way again, giving her an idea instead of further aggravation. One of her telekinetic vectors plucked a cast iron crucible from the shelf behind her while she was careful to keep her physical body still, and to hide the object behind the others.
This next bit could be...tricky, though.
Krista's mind was closest, and easiest for her to reach. Hold still, wait, move your left arm?, she...well, tried to convey, in a thought. Next she tried to reach out to Carlyn with a thought of stillness, though she didn't entirely know what her mind looked like. The horned mutant hoped it was her.
She didn't know what flinging something at bone-cracking velocities at that animate tar puddle would do. But she did know what it'd do to a squishy person.]
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