TW: Gore/Death/Murder F2F - Rahne/Todd - The Sun'll Come Out... Tomorrow.

pouring-rahne:

The entire world was resting on the girl’s throat as she tried desperately to remain as calm as she could possibly manage. Her heart was broken, the very root of her that was those little children ripped up and left to wither. Rusty fur covered her from head to toe still, and her body couldn’t seem to decide whether it wanted to be more bipedal or quadrupedal; the normally short girl was stuck at a good six feet of lanky werewolf-esque monster even as her ears seemed to shrink or extend at their own will. Rahne couldn’t focus - she couldn’t choose, because right now, there were so many other things that were important.

She felt the cold sting of Todd’s scream, muzzled face curling a snarl as she tried her hardest not to lash out at him. He was hurting to, she knew that, and deep down she could not blame whatever came to her. Toad was not the strong one - he was not the protector - Rahne was, and she had failed miserably at the one time it meant the most. 

“The sirens,” came an almost viciously pointed noise from her, akin to her own voice but somehow colder, angrier, “Do you want them finding them like this? I’m stuck - we have to move them.” 

Where? Hell if she knew. Her mouth was dry as she pulled her daughter to her chest, trying to keep the little one together, which was a much harder task than she wanted to admit it was. A few wretches came from her as she nodded to Aidyn and shook her head. “Home - we regroup there. The institute, maybe - its safer there.” 

Training… think of your training. Oh God - Kurt will be there. I have to tell him… how do I tell him? What… Without thinking, the girl had started to repeat the Lord’s prayer under her breath, as an almost coping mechanism… or, maybe to try and fend off the rage and need to spill blood. Almost silently, she clutched her daughter to her chest and kissed her forehead, breathing out line by line as the sirens rang louder. “Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven…” 

Mentally, she was already trying to form a plan, but nothing was working. Somewhere, her thoughts reached out, tendrils of brainwaves pushing towards the man that had so kindly taken her in during her own time of need a few short years ago. Professor… We need help. We need someone, NOW, please… Dear God, please! We need out of here, Sabretooth… He… Rahne couldn’t even think it, images of the little ones flashing through her skull as she sobbed and started to shakily stand.

“We need to go, now! Grab Aidyn, we need to run!”

The fact that she was snapping right back at him almost seemed to comfort the older mutant, in a peculiar way—only a fraction of an inch let up, but he agreed once he heard the sirens she’d pointed out that letting human police find them all in this state was a bad idea. Surely, they all looked like mutant kind, here—and lately, the officers of the law had been scrubbing the streets of their kind. Like being black in the 1920’s, he rationalised. Being found this way would not end well.

Home. Home would be full of their things… home would give them a place to regroup. Yes, this seemed right—but if it truly was, he couldn’t tell. “Home,” he repeated, nodding. “Yeah, we sha’d do that.”

It wasn’t moments after that, he heard her beginning to mutter, and though the words were a blur at first, when he made out the phrase Hallowed be Thy name, his hands, tainted with the blood of the young ones, reached into his hair and grasped, tearing with a power of force that made every fibre scream at him. In his own mind, the words echoed STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT! as the images of things that were deemed holy bombarded him one at a time, until his mouth finally synched with his mind, and made his thoughts known. “STOP IT!”

When she broke her patterning and said something other than that, the building sea of boiling rage subsided, but for a moment, he couldn’t begin to think of any benevolent God that would let this happen to someone like Rahne, who was completely devout—or to he, who had suffered more than most do in a lifetime in about two decades.

He took the remainder of the little boy in his own arms, nearly beginning a whole new wave of sobs, before heading home became the newest little moment of his reality.

In his own safe haven, the elderly telepath who had always offered Rahne whatever she had needed got her message loud and clear—but when she cut off, he realised that it must be bad—and that was when the images hit him. In such a state like hers, mere words were not strong enough to convey her message—and while normally others’ thoughts came through in whispers and text from such a distance, he could vividly observe just what she had offered him. Rahne, please, remain as calm as you possibly can. Gather what you can take with you and come here—I will keep you out of harm’s way from there. It almost seemed inappropriate to offer any condolences, at this point—for now, he would have to hold off on anything but business; perhaps to train her for her own minor mission, or perhaps even because the shock of it all could not hit Xavier just yet. He had seen many die before, but the air about this scenario felt so wrong… and even if only by means of being adopted, the old man had just lost his grandchildren.

TW: Gore/Death/Murder F2F - Rahne/Todd - The Sun'll Come Out... Tomorrow.

pouring-rahne:

How easily someone else’s anger could change the course of someone’s life. In one instant, Rahne’s lips were pressed to Todd’s and her eyes were closed, and in the next, she heard rustling, running, and before she could even really react, screaming. Her head snapped to find the source, and instantly, the girl felt all sorts of sick, wretching even as she stumbled towards the sounds, eyes wide and full of rage and fear.

The damage that razor sharp claws could do to a small body like that was horrifying; her daughter, her beautiful, wonderful, blue furred daugher was gone in a flash and screech - organs spilling out onto the grass in a pool of blood larger than one could think possible. No light was left in those little green and yellow eyes, only a face still screwed in anguish as her brother let out gasping shrill cries of his own that lasted for a mere heartbeat before being replaced with sickening gurgles. The boy… the boy was not so lucky. A little hand grasped at a mostly open throat, crimson waterfalls pouring over as he aspirated his own life-fluid from the gash that exposed his spine from the sheer depth, tears streaking the pallid green-grey flesh of the little changeling. The medical training in Rahne’s head knew that the boy would not live long - but more than that, she knew that if she didn’t go after Creed now that he would escape. This would not go unavenged. 

Rahne couldn’t think, any more - she couldn’t process what she was doing as she felt her form changing without her consent, morphing from human to wolf to something far beyond that which she’d ever done before; nearly twelve feet from snout to tail, easily a thousand pounds of muscle and snarling roars that could rival any bear or lion. Rushing hard and fast, she went at the clawed male, massive maw snapping in anticipation as strands of drool dropped out. 

Rahne would kill him. Rahne would kill him, and he would pay.

No matter how cocky and arrogant Victor may have been, he was not a stupid man - and as that hulking monster of a beast came at him, he turned tail and bolted. Never had he moved so quickly, making an escape before the beast could crash through the small trees around them, each smash into wood slowing her considerably. Motorcycle waiting, he was gone before the mutant female could even make it there, and Rahne could only bellow and snarl in temporary defeat. 

It felt like forever, but it was only maybe a moment - and just as she had chased, skattering the entire park with her ferocious transformation, she felt herself shifting back into something closer to human. Sobbing silently as emotions swelled to a breaking point, she could barely approach the scene; Todd was hysterical, neither child was breathing or moving, and there was nothing that she could do. 

Her hands trembled as she covered her mouth to stifle sobs, blood running from her nose from the stress of the transformation, and Rahne’s mind swirled and spun. I should have been watching — we shouldn’t have lapsed. We should have stayed inside. This is all my fault. Every fibre of her shook as her body came down from the endorphins, and sirens started in the edges of her hearing. 

“Todd, we have to GO,” choked noises came from her as she grabbed her torn shirt, shaking as she knelt next to her mangled children, “We have to GO,” I’m naked, I’m a mutant, he’s a mutant, they won’t care, they’ll just poke around my babies, I just want to hold them… I just… I just want to hold them… 

She collapsed down onto both knees, sobbing now, just as much as she tried to piece her daughter together, shaking, wrapping her in a cloth as she flopped, lifelessly. “No… No… I… Baby… Kline Anne…“ 

In one fell swoop, that gut feeling had proved itself once again to be the only thing that he could trust—when he heard that screaming, his brain ground to a complete halt, and being attached to Rahne became the least of his concerns. She’d already taken off before he could even react, but he knew (somewhere beneath all that terror) in his rational mind that even if there was some kind of attack, she would have to lead the way… she was worlds more prepared for battle. He let her have her ground before his body could finally move, and those strong legs took him where the sound had come from… where the little ones had just been.

The entire time, he tried his best to console himself—Scream is bad, but it ain’t necessarily the end a’ the world. It’s okay—Rahne’s got this… it’s gonna’ be a’right.

What caught his eyes when he got in too close crashed down every bit of that trusting optimism, all at once. He fell completely stunned when the red pools came into his peripherals, but the entirety of him crumbled when the worst of it finally hit him. More than anything, he wanted to just scream—but while there was still some life left to the young boy choking and sputtering in the grass, something in him couldn’t bear to terrify the boy anymore than he likely needed. Solid for one moment while his sanity collapsed underneath that veil of calm, he reached one knobbed hand to stroke through the boy’s soft hair as the tears broke past—and every breath began to seem like an insult before the little one, struggling for his last moments.

In only a few short moments, the little ones he’d so caringly taken under his wing as a babe and lovingly forgiven for mess after mess and held in his arms had gone. When no life remained, neither did any of his strength, and as he waited for himself to finally fucking wake up, the weight of it took his throat like a noose and choked him senseless.

Aidyn had barely begun to speak in full sentences… Ahna had been learning how to read… They hadn’t even begun to experience what life was like after you stop being cared for, and had to gain your own independence—like he had, not a handful of years older than them. He’d stripped himself of all his own wants and needs; he’d put everything into being the father he’d never had—and now everything he’d done had simply crashed back down around him.

The feeling as he wept for those little ones could have been compared to floating in space—his feet had no ground on which to stand, and his lungs, no air to take in. The pressure that had built inside his head seemed close to explosion; clinging to anything seemed futile, as it would only float away along with him. One hand each had been spared for each babe, as if to try to keep the very soul from leaving them, but as rationale hit him somewhere in the midst of his mental chaos, he’d dragged them back into his own body, curled on the ground next to the still cadavers of what had once been his world.

He hadn’t even heard Rahne’s return, nor her own distress, until the words came from her mouth that had been directed at him. For once, he looked upon the small girl with emptiness; he had lost himself, and all the feelings he’d had for her became buried beneath an invisible mass of nothing but shattered debris inside him. They had to go? What the fuck was she talking about? The thought of leaving just then quite suddenly outraged him, and those bloodshot brown-and-yellow eyes ran frigid on the surface, as a deep fire swelled beneath. “GO!?” he screeched, unable to control the volume at which he snapped. “Where the fuck a’ we gonna’ GO!? I ain’t fuckin’ LEAVIN’ them behind!!”

Maybe that was denial hitting him—but something in his mind refused to abandon even the shell of what had been his child, and the thought that she wanted to leave infuriated him. Let the chips fall where they may, he wanted nothing more than to give these poor souls something proper as a last gesture—and even if she hadn’t been suggesting that they just leave the bodies, he couldn’t differentiate just then. Everything about him had spun into chaos, and everything and everyone seemed like a threat.

TW: Implied death F2F - Rahne/Todd - The Sun'll Come Out... Tomorrow.

pouring-rahne:

It had taken a long time for Rahne to get over Todd’s particular.. brand… of wording, but all in all, he never really meant anything bad - he just had an odd way of putting things, and she was okay with that. It could have been worse - and all that really mattered to her was that he loved her, and she loved him (which had not been a question on either mind for quite some time). The wolf girl had become a grand master at spinning his negativity into something positive, whether he liked it or not, and it did them both well. 

“Perfection,” came a little mutter as she nibbled along his neck just a bit, “Is subjective - I think you’re perfect, but it is just to me. I’m not saying you think you are perfect,” Her lips trailed over his fuzzy, unshaven chin, as she listened to him mutter his snarks, and those eyes of hers rolled in her skull like there was no tomorrow. “And what if I don’t mind that? You need a little more ego, sometimes, love.” 

He has a point. Her lips curved a smile before she kissed up to the edge of his lips, nibbling ever so slightly on the edge of his fleshy mouth, ears ever listening as their children continued to throw dirt clods - now, at  each other. “No, sweetie - I just think that if you’re going to have the long hair, and I’m going to have the short boy-cut hair, we may as well act the part.” Thin arms looped around his neck and she tried not to tease too much, barely rolling her hips as she kissed his lips and murmured “When they nap, we’ll see if it’s a punishment.” 

Things couldn’t be better - young love, fun and free, children relaxing for once in a long, long time. 

Looking a bit intensely at her for a minute, the lanky young thing finally smiled after giving her another little raspberry, and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whateva’—if you say so,” he conceded quietly, though that expression of his seemed lenient, rather than his usual nigh upon frustration when she argued with him about his confidence… or lack, thereof. “I ain’t gotta’ have too much,” he noted, in contrary. “F’I get too fulla’ myself, A’ll get top-heavy an’ fall ova’.”

One last little glance to the twins stole itself away before he returned that fond gaze to his mate, and scoffed at her wording. “Ac’ the part? I think we got it pretty a’right; ya’ ca’d use a little practise wit’ the strap-on ba’fore ya’ start tellin’ me about actin‘ some part.” Always, he teased—but it was in an almost facetious manner that he said it; he never wanted to offend her. When she rolled her hips on top of him, he felt that familiar little twinge of desire hitting him—never less potent than at any given point in his life—and he smirked a little at her ‘threat’. “Y’er on, babe.”

Meanwhile off in the woods, somewhere, the plodding steps of someone prowling drew in near; nigh as silent as someone so very large as Victor Creed could manage. In one fell swoop, he’d changed his course from finding the one he desired to hunt… to a much easier target. The very subtle hints of scent from people who’d been anywhere close to Wolverine brought a cold grin to that fang-toothed face, and dark golden eyes kept an eye on the scene from a safe distance.

Sabretooth was a smart man, and he knew that the little ones playing in the field would pose much less a threat to his existence than their mother… hell, even Toad would be an easy target, but next to no one cared if he was dead. With Rahne being too difficult and Todd too insignificant, the nearer toddlers built higher and higher on his list of preferred victims.

It was only moments following before the little ones caught sight of the massive golden gargoyle in the woods and meandered closer, giving him an opportunity that he would probably never get again. Without a second’s hesitation, the man’s clawed hand swiped.

Cunning Like A Wolf: F2F - Rahne/Todd - The Sun'll Come Out... Tomorrow.

pouring-rahne:

“I think that you’re the only person I could take that as non-offensive from, Todd,” Rahne’s voice was all play as she snickered and butted her head against his, eyes rolling. As she breathed in that pheromone laden scent of her partner, she watched as his eyes flitted from her onto the little ones. Such a good father, Rahne thought, smile even brighter on her peachy lips. No matter how they fought (and believe you me, they had their moments where the neighbours smashed their fists into the wall and told them to shut their traps), it all melted away into times like these.

The small children could, in fact, not wander far or fast — but they were trusting. Everything and everyone was alright to them, because they did not yet know the cruelty of the world around them. Just the month before, Aidyn had wandered from her side and in a flash had somehow found a stray cat to pet. Luckily, it wasn’t mean (just a motor boat of purrs, really), but had it been? He could have gotten rabies or at the very least, a stinging, painful scratch or two. It was good that Todd watched them. Rahne lapsed sometimes (generally just at home; but the worst that had come of that was a bruised forehead and a few moments of bellowing screeches as her daughter learned that coffee tables were hard and, in fact, not a good place to slam one’s face), but never for too long. 

“You’re a perfect man, Todd Tolansky,” that soft voice was tilted with the smallest hints of lilts as she spoke, her green and yellow eyes half-lidded as she leaned in and pulled him close, planting a kiss on the edge of his jawline. How she loved the smell of his skin… most people? Repulsed by the sight of him, let alone his particular brand of scent. Rahne? She could process all the pheromones and wafts of each thing that went with them, and it all culminated into some sort of brew that she just remembered as his. 

Aidyn had moved a little farther out, followed in quick turn by his sister, the little blue girl all but the shadow of the webbed finger and toed boy who had discovered that ripping up grass was an awesome pass-time… especially when you got to throw it. That - that was the best part. His sibling couldn’t agree more, and their giggles and noises of conversational babbling were sharp in Rahne’s ears. She could tell just about where they were from that alone - so why not take a moment to just have a little bit of talk and kiss time between her and her mate?

Playfully, the Scot moved quickly, straddling her lover and sitting in his lap before he could blink an eye. Those small, thin fingers moved through his hair and she rolled her eyes a bit as she worked through a couple knots. “What are you going to do with all… this? It’s getting unruly. I’m going to start putting it in pigtails and making you do housework in heels or something, because you’ve got some long, flowing Lady Godiva hair going on, Frog Prince.”

The fact that she had laughed always brought him back around from his inner insecurities—he’d been so long terrified of everything in his life, including making people upset at all, that he cringed back every time he said something that could have remotely offended her… but lately, even that had been something he had no need to worry about. In nature, Todd was a worrier—but frankly, the way that she seemed to take positive from all his personal quirks had him all but solid in thought that she was the one. Let alone the fact that she could stand to smell him? To be frank, he definitely smelled like a frog. “Ain’t like ya’ gotta’ worry ‘bout me, babe,” he assured her quietly, taking that headbutt with a fond chuckle. “I like dirt.”

Her telling him that he was perfect, though? He didn’t quite know how to take that one. He never would think that he was perfect—but whatever made her happy. “What’s ya’ basis fa’ comparison? I got no ‘perfect’ bone in me—don’t go makin’ my ego bloat.”

One more quick flicker of those eyes away from his minute beauty, and he made sure that the children weren’t in some kind of peril—just throwing grass, again… Maybe we oughtta’ take ‘em outta’ the house more of’en. Even if Rahne sometimes failed to watch, she could hear—and even failing that, Todd had a bit of a sixth sense about the little ones: he could tell when something was off, and there almost seemed to be that little twinge in his gut beneath all the sun and sweet nothings (of sorts) in exchange between the two of them. Not enough to be pressing, but enough for him to know.

His attention came back to his lover when she moved overtop his lap and began to play with his (admittedly) rather long ‘Godiva’ locks, sticking his tongue out. “What? I gotta’ getta’ crew-cut a’ somethin’? I like it long sa’ sue me,” he protested, setting his large hands on his hips. “Frankly, A’m sa’prised ya’ usin’ that as a threat, baby. F’ya’ gonna’ make me clean ‘e house in heels, A’m gettin’ a French Maid outfit an’ playin ‘e part.”

Cunning Like A Wolf: F2F - Rahne/Todd - The Sun'll Come Out... Tomorrow.

pouring-rahne:

Wind barely puttered through the air as the warm, summer sun beat down on every inch of the little out of the way park that was just around the corner from the apartment that Rahne shared with Todd Tolansky full time, and Kurt Wagner some of the time. The latter was not only going to school, but was taking more of a charge back at the Institute, working with the new recruits; when he wasn’t stuck at one place or another, the fuzzy blue elf did more than his best to spend time with not only his young one, but her sibling and the two other parental figure in the equation. Tree branches wavered ever so slightly, the thin things that seemed to have been planted in the last five or so years not really casting much shade at all, but, at least the little whooshing sounds was soothing, and the twins very much found the bark a new experience, and touched on it while babbling to each other in a tongue no one else could understand. 

“You’d never think that a year ago, they weren’t more than peanuts in my belly, huh?” Rahne’s hand laced with the well worn and knobby fingers of the mutant being that had been there even when she kicked and screamed. Her head of short cropped rust coloured hair rested on his shoulder as she shifted on the blue, white, and grey checker patterned blanket laid out beneath them, making a little noise of almost contentedness. Things… things are good. Reaching up, she pushed long, grubby brown hair out of the way of the toadlike mutant’s neck, leaning in to give the smallest kiss. 

Nine months had passed so quickly - things had progressed so far from what Rahne had known as her own life and into this new disposition in her world that revolved around her two bundles of perfect joy. Annelise and Aidyn had become her moon and sun, her stars and sky, her air and her blood; nothing in the world would ever be as wonderful to her as those two. They’d grown so fast; they were walking, half-way talking (mum, daddy, Lady Moira (which came out more along the lines ‘Lae My-ra’ than anything), up, down, play, NO, play, and hungry were the mains in their vocabulary, these days), they were learning faster than she’d ever seen most children put knowledge away even if sometimes it was hard for them to communicate exactly what they wanted. It was like watching something beautiful that she had spawned turn into something even more perfect and autonomous. 

Sure, there were people that stared, or that condemned her for her lifestyle, her choices, or merely the fact that both of her littles were changelings; they looked like they were mutants… but they were few (at least, few that actually voiced it) — and more than them, there were people that cared for them and loved them just as much. Nothing could damper the happiness in her, now. 

So many people had touched her heart - and so many people had backhanded it. Saint John had all but just abandoned them after not too long, no matter how Rahne, Todd, and even Kurt had vied for him to stay. It was just not in the cards for them, it seemed; this did not make the blow any less through and through. The nights upon nights spent crying over the ruddy blond Aussie still brought a cold bite to the heart of the Scottish girl, but time did make the sting more tolerable… especially as she watched her wonderful bairns totter along hand in hand, looking in the grass for ladybugs and butterflies. 

Nothing in the world felt wrong, and after so many months of just peace, the girl couldn’t help but fall into a sense of calm. Many things had happened, and many bad things had sliced her to the very soul - but for once, things were just good. Todd was… well Todd, Kurt was as soft spoken and loving as ever, Rahne, for once, washappy, and her children had no real ill health and were joyus little rascals! What more could a young mutant mother ask for?

Months. It had been the longest time in Todd Tolansky’s life that hadn’t been something to scream about; some shrill reason in his cynical mind to want to leave this world of the living. For once, he had gotten to sit down and relax, and for once, he had really needed it. Frankly, all the time that they’d spent in Xavier’s home had only stressed him out, and now he had the freedom to come and go as he pleased; to keep his things as much a mess as he desired; to do whatever he wanted, whenever! People could stop and stare at him all they liked—nothing they said anymore could touch him.

It almost seemed like the peak of a roller coaster ride, and something in the pit of the boy’s gut soared, but something else simply couldn’t subside… a churning, gutteral insistence that something had to go wrong. He’d never been this happy for this long—why should the universe spare him his misery, now? How long should it really last?

Surely, he thought it had to be a sign when Saint John up and walked out… but even then, he had shown a most admirable strength of character for those remaining on the scene—he remembered those nights when Rahne had cried… seemed inconsolable; he knew better than to protest, with how he’d learned her ways by now. Sure, they had their own fights… but he felt that nothing could tear them apart.

His gut feelings always seemed to turn out wrong.

In the realm of actuality, he felt those soft little alabaster fingers moving between his very own, and clasped gently in return, using how she lay her head on his shoulder to rest his own—another day in paradise, as they say. “Peanuts? More like grubs in ‘e dirt,” he joked in return, a little toothy smirk befalling those grey-greenish lips of his. “Not ta’ say ya’ dirt a’ nothin’—” he quickly corrected, looking quite playful.

Those deep brown eyes moved between both her and the two children (even Kurt’s had been like one of his own, so he considered them both his) in quick flickers, but their explorative nature often led to their wandering—usually just a pitiful distance, considering how fast a year-old could move—so he knew that they’d probably not be in the same place when he looked up, no matter how long he let his gaze wander. For now? He was loving the way the sun caught those sweet, orange-redden locks of hers, and that little brushing touch of her hand on his forehead as she swept his hair away.

Perhaps it was just that perfect little world he’d entered that made him more suspicious than usual… but somehow, he couldn’t help but to indulge himself.

Nothing good ever happened to him for long.

The Walking Tremor: [RP EVENT] Lance - Rescue Me.

geokinetic:

here-kittykat:

There seemed to almost be a frozen moment when the dark-skinned woman saw Toad’s tongue lash out, and her brain reacted quickly with one sole thought:

Eww… I don’t even want to know what that would do to my tongue.

In hindsight, always 20/20, she should have been thinking more about emulating Kitty’s power once again—but she had been far too distracted to make that split-second decision, and went down with a bullet in a thick hunk of muscle making her world a searing wall of nothing but pain. Sure, she cried out, but less of it was a scream so much as a furious “SON OF A BITCH!” that likely echoed from the walls.

When she hit the floor, she sent the thin boy atop her flying, but he held on by his tongue to Adullo’s wrist and swung enough to catch himself, attempting to point the weapon somewhere else. He would definitely have some apologising to do after all of this… but for now, keep your focus.

Now Gayle understood Spanish—she spoke most major languages… but at the moment, it seemed to slip over her head—and she didn’t know quite what to say or what to ask for; all she could feel was pain… all she could think was blank buzzing.

“N-Necessito… a-ayudar…” she muttered quietly, forgetting that the language most of those present knew was, conversely, English. “Bitte?”

She could see those around her—but she was quickly getting dizzy.

Stay on the floor—the floor couldn’t spin too much, could it?

Didn’t seem like it could go any faster… not really.

When the gun went off and when it seemed more than clear to her that even with Hank’s…negotiating..that this man wasn’t going to back down that’s when Kitty took matters into her own hands once again—Wolverine style. 

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted the stray bullet nail a teammate in the leg and watch her go down and Toad go flying. Wasting no time in letting that distraction to the man let up, Kitty lunged forward one hand phased through Toads tongue (much to her skeeved dismay) and through the mans hand to grab the gun and phase back through. The other hand, with no real predetermined thought behind it, reached forward through the threats leg, grabbed what she believed to be his tibia.

With her fingers wraped around it, it took much strength to be able to push it out of place and through the back end of his leg—only to be brought back through its front again. She watched the man fall to the ground, leveled to her, with the eyes of a predator. Uncaring, unfeeling and completely blocked off from what was going on around her, she stood then. Watching the man writhe in pain from a missing bone and pointed his gun point blank between the eyes. Gripping his bone tighter in her other hand as if she was willing it to break. Do I do it? It’s not necessary..he’s down and out. He’s a monster, I should do it. It wouldn’t be hard I just have to..And she tightened her slacked fingers around the metal of the guns grip. pull this trigger and he’ll be gone from this world—I’m sure no one would miss him. Her eyes narrowed with each thought; each inner argument she presented herself for both options. 

The possibly the deepest dismay, Lance watched, helpless at to what was happening. Adullo bellowed out an agonized cry, like one he’d never heard before in his life. He watched the woman he loved so deeply transform into a cold, violent machine, almost as if she was doing more than she needed to take him down. She was merciless, far from the kind soul he had seen just a few days ago. With all his might, he mustered a shout, hot tears running down his cheeks. “Kitty, don’t!” he cried out, taking just a moment to catch enough breath, despite his pain, and speak again. “He’s… He’s my father.”

How could he still care so much? How could he still feel any amount of compassion for a man who did this to him, and threatened his most cherished love? He wasn’t sure. His mind was so mixed and confused. All he wanted was for it to end. He watched her, his arm reaching out to try and touch her before the bullet wound in his abdomen prevented him from doing so.

“… Please, Kitty.” He pleaded, trying to find those loving blue eyes he needed so desperately at this moment.

Adullo was entirely consumed in pain, unable to move and unable to even speak intelligibly. He simply muttered and moaned in incoherent Spanish.

When Kitty phased through him and took hold of the gun, the grey-green-skinned boy found it appropriate to let go. Now that he was disarmed, much of anyone in the room could defeat him in a tag-team fist-fight… so he doubted the man would chance his squandered odds.

But that was when his gut dropped—he began to feel that ever-present pang of guilt for what he had let happen to the counsellor, but of more current precedence (since there was no way he could really help her with that), his eyes locked fast to what Kitty was doing—and he felt his veins run cold as she brutally incapacitated the man, looking quite like more would be a piece of cake; an almost welcome challenge.

He had the urge to shout out; to try to stop it—but all he could do was observe in horror. When Lance’s cries rang in, however, he felt yet more of that icy sludge running through him—he had addressed her by name. This had to stop, now.

“Man, lay off! He’s a’ready down an’ out!” he jeered to the brown-haired girl, trying perhaps to stir up enough of a distraction for those in the room to forget Lance’s mission faux pas and maybe even get Kitty to come to her senses. “Ya’ shoot ‘im now an’ ya’ ain’t gonna’ have a place ta’ go back to!”

God, he hoped Rahne was helping Gayle, at this point—he didn’t dare look; all that blood would have made his stomach backflip.

At the very least, what Kitty had done was… less messy.

The Walking Tremor: [RP EVENT] Lance - Rescue Me.

geokinetic:

here-kittykat:

Easily so the girl retained her intangible form through-out her run. Running the long distance without stopping was relatively easy, being unafraid by burly guards with guns was also easy—after training with Wolverine. However, it was maintaining the intangible form which was taxing and caused her brow to sweat under the pressure of it all, but she knew she couldn’t release the form even though her body pleaded with her to regain it’s solidity. She couldn’t regain her physical form, not when charging head first into a particularly dangerous situation.

If she were to go down in battle because of her reckless behavior then there was no way she could beat whoever was threatening Lance senseless but she also knew when they landed that if she hadn’t of acted recklessly than she had let a second go buy that would probably aid in Lance’s destruction. She couldn’t let that happen either. So there was was, running top speed, pushing her mutation to its limits in a desert in Mexico littered with assholes aiming fire arms at her. It was thankfully then that she saw two go down; Rahne must have hit the scene. She smiled, proud of the girls aim and pressed on.

It wasn’t long after that that Hank had caught up to her with his elongated strides it wasn’t a difficult task. She looked towards her teacher with determination and every resemblance to ‘Kitty Pryde’ was gone. The smile of the shallow, happy-go-lucky teenage girl was replaced with that of a military operative. She was steps from the warehouse when she finally said anything at all “Like, Sorry Professor McCoy, I’m going in.” Not even a second and a half after that last syllable and she disappeared through the wall of the warehouse.

Upon the other side of that wall, Shadowcat was dead frozen in her tracks, staring upon the scene. The calm and cool of a military operative washed from her face and was momentarily taken over by fear. She found herself choking upon tears at the scene of Lance—broken and bruised on the ground. She rushed towards him without bothering to check her surroundings and dropped down to her knees, her hands rushed over him—gently, only trying to see if he’d react..if he was conscious—if he was alive. “Oh god, Lance!” She choked out through tears. “Shit!” It was confirmed, what she was sure the gunshot she heard earlier had hit…it was confirmed. She suddenly felt all but helpless once again. It was only then that she broke away from her nightmarish scene and finally saw the figure of the so called ‘man’ that could do this and with a look of disgust and pure hatred she glared him down unable to yet move in her paralysis of anger and fear. 

Standing tall and stone like, Adullo stared down at him. He watched his kin on the ground, wincing and clutching at the bleeding wound in his stomach. When Lance looked up, his eyes were filled with so many emotions. Fear of death, though previously he had not thought at all about it. Anger towards the man he once loved and called ‘father’, after having seen what the man was capable of. And lastly, regret. He’d never see her face again. He’d never hold her and tell her how much he loved her. He’s never get to show her just how perfect she was to him, how precious she was, how much he needed her. His eyes grew dull, knowing what was to come.

Adullo raised the handgun, aiming at Lance’s head. The teen didn’t move. He only waited for the last shot to be fired. Just as his finger pressed even slightly against the trigger, he heard a girl’s voice shout in English. He quickly glared up, seeing what appeared to be a small, teenaged girl rush in to the boy’s side.

Lance’s mind was sent into another spiral of shock and confusion as he saw her face. He wished he could have shouted. He wished he could have spoken at all louder than he did. “K-Kitty… Get out… of here.” He pleaded, his hand reaching and just barely able to cling to her arm.

The older man was somewhat confused, trying to think of how she was able to get in past the locks. Then it dawned on him. “Un mutante…” He growled out, lifting the gun again, but instead pointing at her. Now, he spoke in English, knowing she’d understand him. “I don’t know who you are, or why you came, but I will not let your kind live. No longer will I allow you monsters to shame me! Lancea will die, and so shall you!”

Lance’s heart nearly stopped dead in its tracks. Everything that was happening now was his fault. He was the only one to blame, if anything happened to her. Adullo’s finger drew the trigger back, and just before it fired, he said, “Go back to the devil who made you, abomination!”

When he’d been picked up and dragged along into the action, the boy couldn’t help but think that this was still not going to end well. He found himself clinging tight when the dark girl picked up speed, and startled by the sudden change in her stride—until he remembered that one line she’d mentioned: “I can do what you do”.

And then it all made sense.

“So ya’ can do anythin’ we can do?” he asked of the counsellor.

“Yep!” she replied with a watchful eye on her surroundings. “I’m still learning how much that really works, but I’ve got it down to a sort of science—if it’s physical, I have to touch someone. If it’s mental, I just have to be near them.”

“Cool,” was the only thing he could think, until he heard the gunshots being fired, and yelped out loud, ducking as low as he could. Gayle seemed to be a good transport, but the guards weren’t out just yet. Only one had really been taken out, which left two to continue trying to shoot them down… if he was counting right. “Well, me, Rahne, an’ the big guy got physical mutations… but Blackout’s like, a ghost-wrangla’ ‘er somethin’ an’ Shad’a’cat can phase through shit… an’ Avalanche can shake shit up; moves the earth.”

“I don’t know how far away I can be and still do it,” she warned, making a leap away from another shot aimed their way, causing Todd to grasp her even harder.

As they approached the building and Todd saw Kitty going through the wall into the building, he felt almost a sense of duty not to let her go in alone—it couldn’t end well.

“She ain’t gonna’ live long in ‘ere alone—we gotta’ find a way ta’ follow her,” he muttered, looking to those who had the outside under control. If they could find another entrance, it would be a lot less harsh to their stealth than bursting through the wall—which Beast could surely do—and the Toad-boy had an idea. “When ya’ get close, see if ya’ can copy her powa’ an’ we’ll catch ‘em off-guard.”

When the older woman passed Ramona by with a quick wave (and then Beast and Rahne with a quick “we’re going in!”), she powered the last few metres to the side of the building, and began to focus, touching the wall quietly while she tried to get Kitty’s signature…

And only a moment went by before she began to quickly disappear behind the solid barrier, taking the amphibian one with her.

That made the boy’s stomach churn quite a bit—but he shook his head to try to quickly recover. His eyes turned to the ceiling; to rafters; to see if there was a way they could divide and conquer, or run surveillance.

That was beforehe spotted the man with the gun pointed at the two grounded mutants in front of him.

It was then he knew that he had to do something… anything.

And the tongue shot out, and wrapped around the man’s wrist with the weapon, tugging back with as much force as his thin body could muster.

Just a phase: [RP EVENT] Lance - Rescue Me.

here-kittykat:

geokinetic:

[**This will take place just before the X-Men enter. They will be able to feel the earthquake, hear the shot, and feel the earthquake stop]

[***RP TURN ORDER

1. Kitty
2. Lance and Adullo (skip first round)
3. Todd
4. Hank
5. Rahne
6. Ramona
7. Gayle]

He cried out in agonized pain as he felt the crowbar slam against his leg. As much as he had tried, he couldn’t pull himself free of his restraints. He could use his powers. He couldn’t do anything other than be pummeled into the ground by the man he once lovingly called ‘Father’. The ache of the impact ebbed up his thigh, to his hip. He held his head against the concrete, choking back pained tears.

“” Adullo once again demanded, lifting the crowbar for another strike. “”

Lance looked back up, eyes having grown saddened, but distant and cold in their own right. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the gut feeling of impeding death clung to him like a black tar. He said nothing, just stared. Adullo’s face warped into one of almost blind anger, and he swung the crowbar down again.

This time the crowbar slammed into Lance’s side. There was a quiet, but still audible crack. He felt it, much more than he heard it. A rib had undoubtedly snapped from the impact. More than likely a lower one. The immediate torturous pain sent Lance into another yelp, followed by an agonized cough. He could barely breathe, now.

Both his legs were beaten and bruised. His stomach was sore and raw. His head was throbbing and dull. And now, his lungs were slowly being choked of air by the pain of simply breathing. Adullo raised the crowbar once more. “useless. You cannot even give me the name of the man who did this before you die. God has indeed punished me with your existence; to forever know the shame of what I have forced into this world. Well, you are no part of me. I refuse you, and I will send you back to Hell, where you belong.>”

Lance closed his eyes, wincing unconsciously as he expected the blow to land. He instead felt a sudden connection. The suppressant. It had worn off enough. Instinctively, it seemed, Lance forced the ground to rumble beneath him. Small chunks of the ceiling fell down to the ground, as did the off-balanced Adullo. There was a dull thud, and then a moment of shifting as the man stood up once again.

“” Adullo said, voice able to scorn Lance with it’s very sound, now. Lance couldn’t think. All he could do was survive.

The ground once again shook, forcing Adullo to fall to his knees. Lance fought the incredible pain, the weakness in his legs, and the lack of air in his lungs, and climbed to his feet. His legs were so frail, so beaten and weak, that his steps were uneven and shaky. It didn’t matter to him. The pain, the speed, nothing mattered more than running. He had only gotten a few feet away as Adullo got to his feet once more, spinning around with a booming shout, “”

Don’t turn. Don’t turn. He hated his emotions, at times. He could barely control himself as he nervously turned around for a final look. That’s when a loud bang clapped through the air, and with the sudden impact to his gut, the trembling earth stopped. Lance fell limp to the floor, all of the air knocked from him. God, what had just happened? Though he tried, he couldn’t gather himself. The pain was too great, and every time he even tried to move his legs, a hideous torture spread through his lower back.

Adullo slowly walked over, and Lance barely lifted his head to try and look. In his mind, he recalled when he could look on that face with love, not terror.

“Papa! Papa! Look!”

“Oh? What’s that. A bug?”

“A beetle!”

“Ahaha. It looks big! It must have eaten a bunch of little bugs.”

“Yeah! Because it’s strong! Big, and strong, and tough!”

“Just like you will be, one day. You will be my big, strong, and tough young man.”

“I promise, Papa!”

Kitty sat angrily within one of the X-jet’s seats with her arms crossed over her belted in torso. She had been annoyed since the get-go. Annoyed that Lance didn’t tell her the truth about his line of work, annoyed that she couldn’t possibly have known that he was getting into danger like this, annoyed that he could be hurt right now and she couldn’t do anything to help him faster—all because he failed to tell her. And especially annoyed at how remarkably slow the X-jet seemed to go during an actual crisis. Maybe we would’ve like been there by now if it didn’t take everyone like a month and a friggin’ half to get to the hangar! She mentally cursed her team while tapping her fingers impatiently.

Finally! The X-jet was landing and the moment its wheels touched the ground Kitty slipped out her belting and out of the jet floor via phasing. She dropped to the floor gracefully, just as a cat would, just in time to feel the quaking of the earth. The rumble wasn’t as strong as she knew it could be but it still caused her to topple off-balanced to the side and then there was a loud bang and the shaking stopped. So did Kitty’s heart.

She wasted no time in waiting for the others to exit the jet before bolting off at her top speed towards the only building she saw. Tears welled in her eyes and her heart was seriously trying to evacuate her chest. She couldn’t lose him, not now, not when he just popped back into her life and not ever. 

It had been a long internal struggle with the toadlike boy over whether he should let Rahne come in this state… but he kept himself quiet even if he thought it a bad idea. It was what she wanted—and she never saw reason when she felt the need to help people. It would have been useless to argue.

At least, for the most part, no one he cared about was getting into too much trouble. John and Kurt didn’t seem to be a part of this mission, for reasons of work or apathy… and those who had gotten on the X-Jet had each other.

So why could he still not shake the upset stomach he was having?

For the entire flight, he mostly kept his mouth shut and just clung to Rahne’s small hand, and when the Jet came to a landing and Kitty took off, he knew why he’d been feeling so ill—something was about to go wrong.

“Where the fuck’s she think she’s going!?” he demanded, the first words out of his jabberjaw in a long while. “We’re s’posed ta’ stick ta’getha’; she’s gonna’ get ‘a’self killed!”

And that’s when the panic set back in.

If Kitty was lost, Lance would go right back into a spiral of depression and he knew it.

Everything was going wrong.

This was not going to end well.

The Walking Tremor: Face to Face - Lance/Todd - Some Things Never Change.

geokinetic:

The frustrated nudge of his friend only cause Lance to fall further into his giggle fit, and despite a few botched combos, he managed to land a final strike on Reptile, who went careening across the screen, accompanied by Shao Khan’s voice saying, “FINISH HIM.” Lance, of course, did the correct combo to get the stage fatality.

Baraka poise himself, and launched Reptile into the air with an uppercut, sending him falling the long long way into the pit below, with hilarious effects. “Baraka wins. FATALITY.”

Lance snickered and looked back over his shoulder. “Baraka kicks ass.” He leaned back, picking up the whiskey bottle and pouring himself another drink, chugging it down competently and sitting up straight again. “You up for another round, Slime Bucket?” he affectionately teased. 

“I fuckin’ know Baraka kicks ass—why you think A’m playin’ wit’ my betta’ characta’s?” the boy slurred out in response, watching the fatality screen and giggling madly at the very graphic death.

When it was just a video game, it was easy to distance yourself from it—even find it humorous. Video games were, after all, just pixels of an image in the data on a motherboard inside a plastic cartridge; no one ever truly got hurt.

Maybe it was a good thing that they got some distance from reality for awhile.

“Man, you don’ even have ta’ ASK me—A’ll play ya’ any place, any time, any way,” the amphibian coolly answered, looking quite assured that this would be the case.

He’d play until he passed out if that made Lance feel better—he could scarcely complain for a minute if he could improve morale just by being a dunderhead.

Maybe that was part of the reason Magneto kept him—

Once in awhile, everyone needs a good laugh.

(Source: lordofthelesserupchuck)