1963-12-18 - Attilan Rising
Summary: The royal family and assorted allies arrive to retake Attilan from Maximus' control.
Related: Various
Theme Song: None
marie-ange tchalla fitz magneto skye xavier medusa lorna crystal maximus blackagar wanda 

Ten years in the making. Never quite the right time. Always something in the way. Surely right now could not be the right time. After all, there was just an invasion by frost giants all over the world. There's a threat of aliens. The President of the United States was assassinated. The world itself is unsteady, on the brink of war or revolution.

And it's time that war or revolution came to Attilan.

Crystal gathered as many allies as she could. The X-Men, mutants with incredible powers. Members of Act-F, the task force meant to combat alien forces. The Asgardians, she left behind. They've had their own conflicts lately - she couldn't bring herself to intrude on their grief. But given the abduction of a number of humans from Macy's department store, SHIELD requested a small group of agents be included in the mission, to represent the interest of humanity. Crystal did not object.

They met in Central Park, where no one would have to admit where they were from. There, Lockjaw waited, the massive Inhuman in the form of an oversized bulldog the intended form of transportation. Each person was asked to lay a hand on him and then, in a flash of light, they disappeared from Central Park…

And popped into being in the center square of Attilan itself.


Medusa may have brought only one fellow to the party, but what a fellow it is; gaining the Black Panther's assistance is no small feat. Her time has been spent in focusing on her fighting skills, some (failed) attempts at diplomacy, and doing what she could to repair the breach between herself and Blackagar. Wherever he may be, if she's worried, she gives no evidence of it. Instead, she looks around the center square, breathing in the cleanest air she's allowed in her lungs for over a decade. "Home." she murmurs. And now she's prepared to win it back. She looks across Lockjaw's back at Crystal, giving her sister a firm nod.


Attilan is deathly quiet upon immediate arrival. It seems /deserted/. The Inhumans that dwell here, that are not being /used/ here, are hiding. Somewhere down one of the streets…a door shuts. No one wants to be caught in this middle, and apparently even Maximus doesn't want them caught in the middle. There is just a moment to orient themselves before shit gets real.


Standing next to Charles Xavier is Magneto. He's spent hours preparing for this; the X-Men uniform that he typically wears, a form fitting black with purple piping, has been reinforced by an impossible assortment of metals, ranging from industrial alloys to rarities like rhodium and the like. These metals have been forged by his mastery into plates of armor that are fixed to the uniform, protecting his vital organs, and melted into something that nears, but not quite matches, the hardness of adamantium.

He turns from Charles to look at Lorna, who is by his side. Both of them have been granted a similar armor, though only he is capable of maintaining control of the strange alloy that is fixed to his uniform; otherwise it would fall apart. He doesn't say a word, though his eyes remain fixed upon Lorna for a longer moment. He reaches out to place a reassuring hand upon her shoulder, before turning to join those reaching for Lockjaw. His eyes turn from each face to the other beneath his helmet, eyes narrow as they consider each of these allies Crystal has brought together. Then, at last, his eyes turn to the Princess, and they soften, just so.

Once they've arrived, he steps away from Lockjaw and turns to examine the city. It's a shame; his first visit here is not likely to be on peaceful terms.


Weird shit has been happening lately. Talk about weird. And the weirdest thing was being sent on a mission with only maybe three of them under her belt, the last one taking at least a year and a half to complete. That isn't to say that Daisy Cory Skye Sutter-Johnson didn't bitch about it all. Because she surely did! There was a complaint about going outside again. She had just gotten in! Then there was a complaint about her being cold. And she was given a SHIELD standard issued jacket that was warm. Then there was tons of complaining about her not even -knowing- these people. But then she was given a brief rundown that gave her all that she needed to know.

No excuses.

And even still, it wasn't weird yet! But what toppled her radar into 'what the fuck is this and why is this happening' was a giant dog. A giant teleporting dog. While cute and probably snuggily, that thing teleported them right out of Central Park into a grand station of what the hell is this place and why does it look AWESOME?!

So. She was there. Left -way- in the back of the crowd and idly scratching her head. Go team?


Black Panther slowly removes his hand from Lockjaw, steps back, and takes in the sight of Attilan and the surrounding area. He takes Medusa's sign, nodding towards her. "Your description was apt. Attilan is truly beautiful." But that is only in regards to its architecture. T'Challa can't help but be reminded of those western's he's watched, as people flee just before the shots start firing.


Fate was Marie's mistress above all others. When the cards said to return to Xavier's because she would be needed? She obeyed; she always obeyed. She was as much a servant to her cards as they were to her, and even now she held them close. Green eyes scanning the assembled crew thoughtfully. So many faces that she didn't recognize… and only one that she did.

Which is precisely why the French girl stayed close to Xavier. The one source of familiarity in such a strange, but magnificant place.


Lorna wasn't entirely what one would call an 'X-man' not really. Too unpracticed and too raw in learning to control her powers for starters. The idea of slipping into that black leather suit that Jean had loaned her before was nerve wracking, but the once more green haired girl did it anyways. Why? Because her father had asked her to. Much for the same reason that she'd slipped into the armor he'd forged, though it sent her senses buzzing on overdrive with the magnetic force tied to them.

The reassuring hand on her shoulder brought a shaky smile to her lips as she followed the directions given to er as the others did. Touching Lockjaw as instructed. As they reappeared in Attlian her eyes rounded, and she tilted her head back and back as she tried to process the entirity of the city around them. A low whistle escaping her as she twisted around to look.


Field trained, but not remotely field experienced, SHIELD agent Leopold Fitz drew the short straw in the lab. A pep talk from Jemma, packed back (including a sandwich from his friend), and two of the DWARFs in tow saw Fitz to Central Park, and… then not. Unlike some, he has no mental scaffolding to attach the experience to, and his eyes widen considerably as they find themselves somewhere else. His lips purse and he tries to find words, but fails.

His lips part to speak, but he doesn't find intelligible words, and instead begins to prattle on, "Amazing — the sheer physics of the thing leave a wonder whether the world in question itself falls to the wayside or whether its tied to something greater — " right. Jemma isn't here. His lips press together tightly, and awkwardly, his chin drops to his chest, his cheeks redden, and he falls silent.


There have been a great many blows to the world this year, but at times like that it's all the more important not to give up, to keep trying in the face of each new challenge. It's with that intention in mind that Charles Xavier reaches to place a hand on Lockjaw, transported with the rest of them to a city he's seen before only in stray snatches of memory — Attilan.

The arrival of Marie was a bit of a surprise, but he's seen enough of her abilities to trust her when she says she ought to be here. Skye and Fitz are also given a curious look,they being perhaps the only people present without a certain air of gravity about them.

"It is striking, isn't it?" Charles agrees when T'challa speaks. He looks out over the city, getting a mental feel of the place's mood as a whole.

"Medusa, Crystal… I believe we'll be following your lead from this point."


Home in Attilan, Crystal takes a deep breath of her own. She nods to her sister, then steps back from Lockjaw, thing a few steps further into the square. "Anyone who is non-combat, stay close to Lockjaw," she instructs, raising her voice slightly. Here and now, she has to be the princess. She can't be the polite young woman. The motherly sort who keeps the Institute running smoothly.

She's in her gold and black uniform, worn and mended as it may be after the last week of combat. But it's hers, and it, too, is of Attilan. "Maximus has been expecting us for a few weeks now," she warns. "He'll have plans, traps. Keep your eyes open, and try not to start anything. The people here are innocent."


Medusa is also in her cobat wear, which is to say, a uniform of purple and black. "Our goal is to move toward the palace. There is a caste known as the Alpha Primitives. They are powerful but not very clever. He has some, perhaps all under his control. Be wary, and do what you must, but they are not at fault for what they are doing." She sounds grim. It's war. There will be losses.


From way up high…from a balcony, central, right in line with the square they are in now, but…too far away to do anything /to/, presently, a person-shaped spec wearing white comes to the edge of the railing. A tiny stick-arm motions right, then another ant-person hands something over. Then, suddenly, a voice. The voice is elegant and strangely accented, placed no where in the world besides here, for linguistic nerds.

"Welcome to ATTILAN!" Stick man spreads one arm. "TRAITORS!!! INTERLOPERS! /UNWANTED, HUMAN DETRITUS/! I am Maximus the Magnificent, of the house Boltagon, King, Ruler, Grand Architect of all its /defenses/…which I sincerely believe I will enjoy. Perhaps some of you will secretly enjoy it as well. And if any of you are thinking you will take me down from afar, know that /lives/ hang in the balance of my personal consciousness. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…" There is a pause. "Also…to the human in the plaid…I think you are adorable, and I agree to spare you." Another pause. "BEGIN!!!!"

From the abandoned streets, there is suddenly life. Grey-faced creatures, repulsive, aberations, a horrible part of Attilan's past, start moving towards the group. They are humanoid, human at a distance maybe, but once closer, they are grotesque distortions, mockeries of true inhumanity. They are the Sub-humans, the Alpha Primatives…as strong as Inhumans, and controlled with vicious anger. They are coming from /every/ direction. Enough, clearly, for everyone to get their hands dirty.


Marie-Ange draws Five Cups.


"Polaris?" Magneto turns his eyes from Crystal to address the young woman who is his daughter. He speaks in quiet words, but they are firm. "Stay close to Lockjaw. Don't let anything hostile come close to him."

The moment those words are spoken, Magneto closes his eyes, putting trust in those around him, both friend and stranger. He's searching the area for everything metallic, doing so with a very subtle magnetic pulse that will cause those items to tremble just a bit.

As it happens, his hands stretch out to the side and he's lifted from his feet, floating a few inches from the ground. The air around him becomes lightly distorted; the armor adorning his frame resonates a pair of notes not quite in tune with each other. For the moment, he allows the others to make their first moves.

Magneto is searching for ammunition.


A blink and Lorna glances away from the palace where the booming voice had echoed out to them just moments ago. Her brows shooting upwards as she chewed her lower lip and bobbed a nod toward her father. "Right." She edged closer to Lockjaw, as if she hadn't planned on sticking close to him given what Crystal had said.

As Magneto rises up, his powers spreading out, she tried to pull in her own. She could sense everything he was doing, and it reverberated up her spine and set her head buzzing. Her gaze tore away from him though, to eye the monsterous looking /things/ that came charging out at them.

A sharp exhale escaped her and she bit back the urge to go searching for metal objects just yet. She'd wait.


"You heard 'em, Fitz. Go by.. that.. dog.. thing.. If.. uh.. cover.. just.." Skye reaches within her jacket, pulling out two standard issued pistols for her use. "..you know.." The gun is tilted at a nudge towards Lockjaw, "..get under it or something." Yes, hide beneath the large dog, that'll be necessary cover. Though there was clear confusion on her part. Kill them or not? They were innocent and.. not? The rumbling constructs that were brought on as a cue from the madman above has her teeth gritting as a split decision was made. Tear away from the group. Shoot them in the kneecaps. They were adventerers once, right? Weaponry extended as she begins to charge off in her own direction, she waits until she feels that tremble of the metal she holds leave (though it could be just pure fright), before she jumps into the fray of the battle. One kneecap. Two. Let's hope a bullet doesn't stray upwards and put it between their eyes.


With a metallic *CHING*, 10 claws extend from each of the Black Panther's fingers as he slides to the side and strikes a defensive pose as he prepares for his assault. There's a brief pause before he begins to pounce and attack with a speed that almost tricks the eye. He closes the distance in just a few leaps and gets a slash in on one of the mockeries of human genetics before his foe can even catch a breath. He dips down to sweep the leg from another before shooting a leg upward towards the throat of another.


The cards and Scarlett both trust Xavier, Xavier trusts Medusa and Crystal, and so the chain of command is established. Marie nods once as the orders are established. Eyes open. Try not to hurt anyone, but do what you must. Strong but powerul. Marie goes for the cards.

Slender fingers grasp the Five of Cups from her deck and she immediately puts the cards to use; it's time for Xavier to see the /other/ side of the girl's abilities, as the golden chalices depicted on the Minor Arcana card are brought to life, circling the air around the redhead as a makeshift shield. A makeshift shield which can and will be flung at the first Alpha Primitive to get too close to her. Others can go on the offensive; Marie chooses a more defensive posture here.


Fitz stares at Maximus, and Sleepy goes about its (her?) business of collecting data. He nods once at Crystal, and shoots Skye a lopsided, too-sheepish, undoubtedly put-on smile. "Seems like a smart idea, yeah?" he offers back to Skye. Panic is, likely, around the bend, but only after he gets over his wonder of the city. Sleepy hovers away from the scientist, engaging in the kind of work that it (she?) easily does.

But Maximus speaks, and Fitz's eyebrows draw together sharply. "….Right… " His chin drops to see his own plaid shirt, and his face scrunches into a vaguely confused expression. "…huh." That's curious. Maybe he just likes plaid? "Sleepy, do a once over and collect all the data you can, we'll get an understanding of the place. I'm lingering here because I've got… we'll… squishy bit.s Just remember, I can rebuild you, yeah?"


Even before the tiny megalomaniacal figure in white starts bellowing across the city, Charles is well aware of Maximus' presence, it's all around them, wormed through the minds of the attacking grey beings.

"They're coming.."

The impression radiating from them is scintillating, yes… but in the manner a shattered mirror might be, all dangerous edges and unpredictable movement.

A slight shudder runs through Charles, two fingers pressed to the side of his head. "He's got the abductees from the store up there with him, tied to some form of device. I can't find anyone who knows just how it functions. I can see Maximus' mind, but I can't be sure attacking him that way might not trigger whatever he's threatening those people with." he reports, voice tight.

"Marie, can you tell?"

For now, it seems Charles will be focusing mostly on defense. He keeps close to Lockjaw too, expression firm as his mind sweeps over his allies to make sure the ribbon of enraged violence twisted around the thoughts of the Alpha Inhumans isn't threatening to ensnare any of their allies.. and if that seems to be the case he carefully reaches out to one of the charging brutes, and mentally attempts to snip that tie, to test just how resilient Maximus' control actually is.


" The dog-thing," Medusa's eyes are on her opponents, but her words are addressed to Daisy, "Can understand what you say perfectly." Two lengths of her create feet on the ground, raising her up a few feet, while a third lock of hair extends itself, lashing out like a cobra striking to attempt to sweep more than one Alpha Primitive off its feet. Her voice raises, and though it is not projected as Maximus', it is nonetheless able to carry. "Maximus! Ursurper! Your tyranny is at an end!"


"It's all right, Charles," Crystal shakes her head. "If you can make sure we all stay safe, keep our minds to ourselves, we can deal with these. Medusa…" She looks to her sisters, a white glow building in her eyes as a wind starts to swirl around her. "I'm going to try to get up there. Catch me if one of those things he has actually shoots?"

She doesn't wait for an answer. The wind rises up beneath her, lifting her into the air to sweep her toward the balcony and the distant figure there.


MAGNETO's search for ammunition comes up with loads of things. Typical every-day items. Technology that is beyond humans, currently, and so on. A lot of it is in the houses, though, where there are presumably Inhumans hiding out. There are other places where he feels metal, though. In the dwarf of Fitz's, in the hanging lamps that dot the place, just not in /cars/, because there aint no roads like that. He does sense a concentration of metal. Lots of metal, up around the corner though. HMMMMMMM.

SKYE attacks the Primatives and she has got to be feeling like a badass. They make really weird gutteral sounds as they attack her, pitching backwards when they are shot at. Kinda like zombies, though, kneecapping them only makes them crawl along the ground, still on their mission to attack the people in the square.

T'CHALLA has to feel a little more satisfied when he claws through some skin and rips out an eyeball, a throat…leg sweeps seem fairly ineffectual in the long run. They are sturdy and all it has to do is get back up.

MARIE bonks one in the head with a chalice, and she can, certainly, generally keep them off her, particularly while T'Challa and Skye are drawing direct attention.

FITZ can hide. The Primatives do not seem to be after Lockjaw. Because maybe Maximus has nothing against the dog. Its not HIS fault that Crystal totally STOLE him. <.<

XAVIER can feel that the ties to the subhumans and the man above are strong. There is something liquid about it, like he is not in control of all of them, all the time, that it flows in little, adept nudges. Xavier could take control during one of the lapses. Now he has a new, grey, BFF who is SUPER not interesting to talk to. Its like being friends with a cow-person. The mind is a wasteland capable of taking direct orders, performing tasks like 'building things', and 'serving a drink', but playing chess would be a tragedy.

The MOMENT that Crystal lifts off the ground, the anti-aircraft guns activate, peppering the air with mortars. There are Royal Guards on the controls of these.

Maximus, far above, lays his hand on the large, metal device, and twists some part of it, it looks like, which fires a a spray of capsules at the side where T'CHALLA and SKYE are. MAGNETO and MARIE could be potentially caught in its effect as well. But, those by Lockjaw would not be affected. They are filled with terrigen mist, which would kill an unprotected human, make mutants sick, and of course…transform any unknown Inhumans. The capsules are made from glass, so as to break upon impact with pretty much anything.


Eyes now open, strange things begin happening as Magneto rises higher into the air. All across the city, metal objects begin ripping themselves free from where they belong. Poles that hold aloft lights come loose from the ground alongside city streets. Benches rise, wood creaking as the metal struts holding them together are bent, manipulated, and then crushed into crude javelins. The phenomenon starts at first closer to the intruding party, but it spreads while the Master of Magnetism gains height.

He reaches a good forty feet above the party below, while the air is filled with these weapons. Magneto has taken nothing from the buildings themselves… or from the mountains surrounding them.

That comes later.

Four lamp poles suddenly drop from the sky, and pelt themselves into the ground near Lorna. Now, she has her ammunition, with which to protect Lockjaw. Following this, with a downward motion of his left hand, he turns to study the movements of those disgusting creatures. Aberrations, to be sure; he of all people has a unique understanding of Attilan's history and how those monsters likely came to be.

It is then with a grimace, that Magneto murmurs quietly to himself. "May God have mercy-"

But he's interrupted by a sound, a sound he doesn't expect. Eyes dart toward the incoming capsules, and with a swift motion of his hand, four of those javelins bust into pieces; pieces of metal that begin swirling around his person, forming a shield of sorts. He turns his hand into a fist and twists; with that, the air between himself and the spherical shield begins to twist and distort with a magnetic field designed to push anything and everything away from him. He doesn't know what's in those capsules, but he doesn't imagine it is a good thing.

Now, with a snarl, he turns his attention back upon the creatures that pepper the square. One by one, the javelins held aloft go striking downward with near pinpoint accuracy, meaning to impale those creatures one by one into the earth.


With the metal flying about above, Lorna, or rather Polaris, keeps her gaze on the creatures coming at the group by and large. While none seem to approach Lockjaw and Fitz, or her and Xaiver by extention, she didn't exactly trust that to remain the status quo. So when her father sends metal soaring down at them, she catches it with a flexing of her powers, her arms extended as she halts the lamp posts before they can smash into the ground.

Metal screams as she bends it and curves it into a crude looking shield, nothing half so delicate as Magneto's work.

One hand remains outstretched as she backs up toward Lockjaw, glancing over her shoulder at Fitz and then the Professor briefly. The capsules above catch her attention momentarily and she direct the lampost shield above them just incase.


Badass is right! With everything going on, Skye makes crack-shots like the true pro she is not. Call it a moment of heroism in the face of something daunting. She rises to the occasion, moving into the fray of the fallen monstrosities, one foot drawn back and kicked towards the head of one like a football held up by Lucy. "DOWN BOY!" See? That wasn't lethal. Clip ejected, another slammed home, shots continually fired in a non-lethal fashion that relieves stress and looks damn -cool-. And yet, in the face of all of this, Skye has a moment of clarity. Surely, she could have screwed herself by calling Lockjaw a dog thing, so.. time to make amends while the making is good. "Sorry Lockjam!"

Agent of Shield everybody. You're welcome!

The projectiles that are fired towards her causes her to jump back, the shattering of glass and the green mist that follows there after surrounds her feet. Daisy steps aside, her gaze towards the little figure upon the balcony in which Crystal was soon flying towards. "Asshole!" She cries out, -no- one fires fart at her, no one! So with a crack of a shot poorly aimed at Maximus, one of the abberations grip ahold of her ankle, tugging her to the ground, right into the green gas that slowly covers her skin. Doused, and right angry, Skye begins to angrily kick at the wrist of the beasty thing, coughing and gagging all the while.


Once the zombieinhuman in front of him has been felled by a sweep of the leg, T'Challa foolishly moves on to another. The young may find wisdom one day, should he live through this, but unfortunately he still has a long way to go. As he engages with the next foe, who he dispatches of easily, he loses track of the earlier one. By the time he turns around, a powerful grip is slammed around his throat and the King of Wakanda is lifted straight into the air.

The Black Panther writhes, trying desperately to keep his vision as everything begins to turn dark and black. Gradually he begins to lose his consciousness despite his will to fight and things look stark.

That is, until the zombie in front of him is pierced right through the throat by one of Magneto's shots. T'Challa falls to the ground, holding his throat, and tries to catch his breath. Nevertheless, he looks up to Magneto and gives a solemn nod.


Charles' orders come first. Marie turns to the cards. She draws. She frowns. She draws again. And again. "<The future… it is unclear.>" she frowns, reverting to French in the moment of stress; "<He means as he says… and does not? It's as though each card drawn is,>" she pauses a moment, directing one of the goblets to smack one of the Alpha Primitives upside the head, then continues seemlessly. "<conflicting what the one before says. The future.. is in /flux,/ as if he does not even know… I have never seen…>"

Normally, when Marie fights, she doesn't read. When she reads, she doesn't fight. She focuses her attention squarely on one thing or the other, and it's kept her pretty safe (at least, compared to what the normals might encounter!). This time? She tried to do both. The first attack she saw, but the capsules from above? One of them smashes into Marie's 'shield', and that green gas starts to spread; she didn't even notice until it's upon her, so concerned with the results of her cards. The first sign to her that something's wrong is when she starts coughing, realizing that it's becoming harder to breath. The goblets dissipate as if they'd never existed in the first place as their mistress drops to a knee, bracing herself against falling over completely… but it's becomes harder and harder until she finally collapses

…and yes, this too was in the daily reading that brought her here. It's the part she didn't mention. The cards speak, the seer obeys.


Fitz stays close to Lockjaw. "…you're pretty fantastic, yeah?" he offers towards the dog-like inhuman. His nose wrinkles at Skye and her remark about the apology. He reaches into the sack slung around his shoulder and tugs out… another one of the DWARFs — which quickly gets tugged into the metal storm. "Well, that's new," he murmurs before shrugging and turning back towards the dog-inhuman. "'It'll be fun,' she said, 'You'll see new places,' she reiterated…'" a piece of metal whirs by and his eyebrows lift.

Quickly he reaches into his pack and tugs out, the sandwich made by Simmons. "Just what everyone wants to be armed with," he murmurs quietly and he glances at the wrapped sandwich, "…at least it's a balanced snack…" His lips turn down slightly and he stares at the weaponry being used. His eyes hone in on the weapon Maximus occupies and silently assess the piece of technology for what it is. "Astounding."


Getting an unobstructed sense of the barren mind beyond Maximus' emotional goading, Charles can only wince in sympathy.. it seems to be the only state this being has ever known.

Still, for the moment there is blood being shed, and whether he can avert it or not, he means to try.

Sleep. is the command he sends to the creature in question, the suggestion strong enough to carry past a simple doze and into the sort of solid unconsciousness that should keep them out for several hours, despite the uproar. It's an educated guess from what he's learned, but if Maximus' influence doesn't wake them, then Xavier has a solid means to contribute to the battle.

Then those capsules are flying.

A quick scan of the minds on the balcony clicks together with something Crystal mentioned once before.. "The mists! It's dangerous to humans!" he shouts in alarm. He's not actually sure what it might do to a mutant, with the similarities their people share, but one person he fully believes to be human is already engulfed in the mist. Xavier switches his focus to the creature grabbing her ankle, trying to wrest control from Maximus and order the primitive to carry Skye safely out of the mists, though from the sounds of her gagging, it may be too little too late..

And who knows if Marie is susceptible… the flash of acceptance from her mind is alarming, did she know this was going to happen??


On the ground, Crystal could stop the assault on herself. But keeping herself aloft means that she has limited ability to shield herself as well, and when those mortars start to go off, it takes all of her focus to keep the fire and the shrapnel from tearing her apart. All of her focus, and it isn't quite enough.

An explosion goes off close to her, ripping across her side and sending her skidding across the square. She tumbles, lifting her head just in time to see those capsules launched, eyes widening. He wouldn't. He couldn't. But…

"Stay clear of the gas!" she cries out, thrusting out a hand as she summons a whirlwind of air to try to corral it and sweep it up into higher atmosphere, away from anyone who shouldn't be exposed. It's taken her a moment, though. A moment, perhaps, too long for some.

Lockjaw, meanwhile, appreciates Fitz's praise. Also his sandwich. He's very interested in that sandwich.


"T'Challa!" Medusa knows that for all the enhancements the sacred herb offers him, it may not be any kind of protection from the Mists. Allowing her hair to function as her legs, she swings down scoop him back into an upward position, trying to move him out of direct contact with the gas as promptly as possible. Her hair fans out, still striking at the approaching monsters, but the more she splits her attention, the harder it becomes to focus on everything she's doing.


Things are getting pretty heated out there, and Maximus…ohhh…man, he does not like that Magento guy spearing his guys all up. Kinda Its. Or Males. None of them have a particularly female look about them. Sort of a weird, sexless, grey, repulsive…dammit, another one is dead too! Well, he got that human at least, and whoever else gets the mists on them. XAVIER could sense a churning and vibrant mind, a focus that is switched swiftly from problem to problem, orchestrating one giant, terrifying defense-offense. But this is not a sane mind, and though..yes…shooting at people is a reasonable thing…and sending an army is a reasonable thing, Maximus is NOT reasonable. So it is that he yells, "RELEASE THE LEOPARDS!" And from around that corner where Magneto sensed a lot of metal comes 5 snow leopards. He's maybe not even controlling them. One totally mauls an Alpha Primitive. DAMMIT, he trained them not to attack those! Xavier senses brief frustration/amusement. Nothing will attack Marie, or anyone unconscious, but the pressure is on the group, now under fire, under assault from multiple fronts, though there are /decidedly/ LESS Primatives awake, alive, or functional. Xavier can sleep-attack what Primitives he likes, its just harder to totally take them over.

Its the moment things turn down, that shit doesn't look good anymore. Its that moment when the heroes look out at this field of battle and have to weigh what its worth to continue this fight.

Attilan totally looks like it has nice spas though. And that's something worth fighting for.


For a brief moment, Magneto keeps his gaze upon T'Challa, noting nod with a brief smile. It doesn't last long though, for there is a concentration of metal he'd sensed, something… abnormal.

A handful of capsules shatter against his rapidly moving shield. The mists are dispersed out and away from the cacophony that surrounds the Master of Magnetism, and with a grimace, he reaches both hands toward that concentration of metal, bent on ripping it right out from wherever it is. Lorna will feel an intense pull as he goes to rip at it.

Unfortunately, with so much force suddenly diverted to that one task… his shield is weakened, and the mists get through.

Suddenly, Magneto is doubled over in the air, coughing and hacking. The shield drops away, as do the rest of his airborne weapons; fortunately, this once, by some fate of miracles or divine intervention, none of the heroes are hurt. One of them falls against Lorna's shield; had it not been there, it may have impaled Lockjaw.

Magneto plummets from the air, his hands still reaching for that metal object, whatever it is. In the nick of time, he slows his own descent and falls to the ground with an inglorious grunt. Much of the mist has dispersed in his fall, but as he coughs, it comes out of his nose.

Turning, Magneto looks to Lorna. They had discussed his reason for bringing her; to use her as a conduit, a way to increase his own capacity, like a magnetokinetic amplifier. They had even practiced it, deep in the hills surrounding the Xavier Institute.

It seems… it's going to go the other way around.

"Polaris!" he bellows, and then with one final shove, he forces his power into her, allow her to use him as a conduit.

"The object," he coughs weakly, looking at her from where he lies on the ground in a heap.

"Rip it down."


The feel of her father's magnetic fields above was distracting to say the least, but Lorna managed to hold up the shield above Lockjaw and the rest. Her gaze was busy scanning the field around them, even as each pull above yanked hard at her concentration. Then she felt the failing of the fields and her mouth dropped open in shock, her knees buckling faintly as she threw up both hands to maintain the metal shield that caught the steel struts that crashed down around them.

"Tata!" She darted forward as he plummeted, throwing the metal shield and other assorted debris aside toward the oncoming beasts as she rushed toward him as he slowed his own descent. Green eyes round in shock as he spoke of what they'd practiced, only in reverse.

Yet she didn't have much time to protest as suddenly the influx of all his strength was shoved her way. She grunted, and her senses were overwhelmed with the amount of sensations she gained, a choked sound escaped her briefly before she swallowed dryly. A worried look was spared for her father, before she dashed forward, beyond him.

Each step and she climbed into the air, magnetic pulses lifting her up without so much as a thought for how high she'd climbed. Green hair flew out around her in a halo as she threw out her hands and shouted, trying to lift up the thing that Magneto had spoken of bringing down. Yet her control was not her father's and likely everything made of metal suddenly went lurching upwards into the air as well.

Her focus struggled to remain on the object and she snarled, closing her hands into fists as she unleashed what she could into crushing that thing into a metal ball of nothingness.

Yet it came at a cost, too little practice on her end and too little control led to her senses crashing after the expansion of her power and she found herself sinking back down to the ground. A whimper escaping her as her head pounded as the pressure in her head didn't let up.


Well, that took care of that! The grasp of the beasty turned into a tug and a lift from the ground and into it's arms. Being shot in the knee, it found the renewed will to walk with a half-limp back towards Lockjaw, much to Daisy's confusion. When briefed back at Headquarters; she was told nothing of her one-time comrades abilities. Just that they had them, and to expect the unexpected. And this was unexpected. "Hey.. manthing.." She says to the beast as it lumbers back to the large pup, carefully placing Daisy upon the ground near Fitz, her hands still upon her chest as she tries to cough it out.

It was a sideways turn and a hand that presses to the ground that alerted her attention, the way the spores began to grow from her fingertips in the form of little vines that begin to wrap around her wrist. "Fitz..?" Skye murmurs quietly, possibly a whisper among the noise that filled the courtyard. She even tries to move her legs, but the glance there has her eyes widening! "FITZ!"

Daisy begins to struggle to no avail, attempting to crawl away from the cocoon that slowly begins to build around her body, screaming a horrible scream all the while, one that was mixed with sobbing as if she were being devoured by an unknown beast. "SOMEONE HELP ME!" Too bad her cries would fall upon deaf ears, no amount of thrashing and kicking would allow her to get away, for the last thing that was heard of Daisy was the sounds of her sobs before the cocoon closes shut and everything goes -black-.


With Lockjaw's interest in Fitz's sandwich, Leo issues the inhuman a lopsided not-quite-smile. He carefully unwraps it. And, as expected, Simmons cut it in half. Oddly, the sandwich earns a fond smile probably intended for Jemma, but who knows? Maybe he really loves sandwiches? It is a pretty fantastic sandwich. "Want half? It's prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella… with Simmons-made pesto aioli. It's amazing. But you have to like pesto," but who doesn't like pesto? His nose wrinkles, "The woman can cook." His nose wrinkles, "It's probably because she's a biochemist — cooking is basically chemis— " the thought is lost as an alert buzzes and loudly in his ear.

The readout that prints on the device still in his pack begins to spit out data, prompting him to has the long ticker tape of information. He lifts it up and holds it to the light, "Hot pot of coffee!!! That thing is unreal — Sleepy acquired some data from the machine being operated — Sleepy identifies multiple lifeforms, human in nature, attached to its exterior, and readings suggest there's autorelease of a biological weapon of extreme magnitude, far beyond the capacities of current radius — mental math puts the output — " his cheeks puff out. " — far beyond anything I have seen across the globe. It's an engineering marvel coupled with a potent biological weapon intended to destroy humans. We need to get it down! But get close to the thing, don't shoot it from afar, you'll take innocent lives, and probably cause the thing to auto-emit the weapon!"

It's only as the news is delivered, that Skye drops in front of him and Lockjaw. His head turns towards Lockjaw. Wordlessly, his lips edge downwards and he madly begins to reach into his bag to search for some kind of first aid. "My stars and garters," he murmurs to himself and he begins shaking his head, "They got the wrong SHIELD agent. 'You're perfectly competent,' Jemma said. 'You science as well as I do,' she urged…" but the rant is interrupted as Skye starts to be cocooned. Wide-eyed with wonder, his hands grasp at the forming tendrils, madly tugging on them with a level of panic he's never exuded — in the field or otherwise. And then Skye is closed in and he claws at the outside, attempting to get her outside the protective barrier. "HELP!" He turns to Lockjaw, "Help her, please!" The desperate pleading in his eyes is unmissable as he virtually begs the dog-Inhuman for aid.


The mists may have been dispersed, but they've wreaked a good deal of chaos.

Lorna met Erik only for a surge of powers to rip through her mind. Skye was retrieved only for something else entirely to befall her, and Charles finds his attempts to keep knocking out handfuls of Maximus' thralls disrupted by overwhelming distress from two sides at once.

Charles makes a short pained noise, hand flattening to the side of his head.

His experience with a good many young mutants coming into their powers allows him to recognize the overload in Lorna's mind more quickly, and he reaches out when he realizes she's past the point of wrangling control— she's only going to hurt herself or others as she is. We'll take it from here Lorna, rest.. he sends to her, knocking her out much as he had the inhumans.

Skye on the otherhand… what on earth?

And then there are leopards. Pardon— snow leapords, and apparently angry ones. And Charles' powers never have had any effect on simple animals… Maximus may be mad, but sometimes the line between madness and brilliance is a dismayingly vague one.

At least three of them are out of the fight, and they're surrounded.

"I can handle the thralls, if you can handle everything else!" he shouts to those few still standing, straightening up as he turns towards the mass of opponents.

He's worked out the trick of slipping around Maximus' focus now, and he's a quick study.

SLEEP. he sends out in a wave, reaching for far more than a few of the alpha primitive's minds this time.


"Erik!" Crystal cries out as the mutant goes tumbling, a cushion of air sweeping out to cushion his fall just a little more. As she sees the mist come from his nose, sees Daisy start to cocoon, she pushes herself up from the square, a hand held over her bleeding side.

"Everyone, fall back to Lockjaw!" she calls out, clearing what she can of the mists from the air. She keeps her distance - there are too many injured, too many incapacitated, to expect them to be able to defend against leopards. Instead, she summons a wall of fire between the attacking cats and their people, eyes blazing.

Lockjaw takes advantage of Fitz's distraction to claim his half of the sandwich - he's going to earn it, after all. Chomp chomp chomp. The problem is, the reassuring lick to the face that follows is probably more likely to be seen as thanks for the sandwich than a promise that the cocoon isn't the worst thing ever.

Crystal looks over her shoulder, surprise flashing across her features at the cocoon. "She'll be- It's terrigenesis!" she calls back to Fitz, raising her voice to let it carry. Because that? That can reach the hidden Inhumans. "He's using terrigen as a weapon!"



"Crystal, the Mists!" Medusa is hoping her sister can use her elemental powers to move the gas with the air, but like as not Crystal's got her own problems. And then…she may have saved T'Challa, but it's clearly too late for Daisy. "No! Don't touch her!" Medusa bounds over to the cocoon, but not in time to keep Skye from being sealed up in it. After all, she knows the way it works, and when she sees Fitz reaching for the the tendrils, her hair extends yet again, but this time to wrap around Fitz's waist and yank him away. Once she's beside the cocoon, all of the red mass halos out around her, as if to somehow shield the coccoon, gaze narrowing in the direction where Maximus is loitering, enjoying the show. She's incredibly angry, but if the girl inside is evolving, than Medusa needs to make sure she stays safe, and free of Maximus' control. She starts walking forward, her hair a mass of writhing snakes, lashing out at their opponents with ruthless brutality. "You have gone too far, Maximus! Your will be made accountable for your violations!"


From his perch high upon a wall, T'Challa finds himself thankful for Medusa's assist. But as the leopards approach, he flings himself towards them in order to prevent them from hurting anyone else. He throws his hands up into their throats as they run by him, slicing straight through. There are a pair of pained yelps as the large cats both skid along the pavement and leave a long red streak in their wake.


Letting the cold air of the mountains whip around him, Blackagar drew in a deep breath and looked out across the snow peaked caps. Then slowly he looked to his side, to the crimson clad companion and nodded his head, holding up a slate upon which was written. «It is time.» A slow, soft smile is given towards the woman and then his eyes focused forward as the portal erupted into life and he strode through.

The Council Chambers. A room that Blackagar had not stood within in over a decade of his life, but with the siege upon the city underway the leaders; except the current King Maximus, would make their way by tradition to this place. It was why he had placed his arrival there. Why he had insisted that all focus be brought to the fields beyond and outside of the city. So that Blackagar, the true heir of the Boltagon line and inheritor to the high seat, could address the old guard of the Council.

Stepping forth from the portal, crimson companion with him, Blackagar makes the formal gesture of greeting with his hands, blue eyes looking around to the members gathered before he lifts a hand in silencing and motions towards the woman beside him to speak for him. From his hand he produces a parchment and hands it to her, to let her words be audible, while his body language and motions communicate as well.

The last time he stood here, it was to hear his sentence handed down under the influence of Maximus by this council. To exile. To be banished from his home. But now the gamble was underway. If his brother?s focus was well enough on the battle, his influence in this room would be at its weakest, and perhaps, perhaps his words could break through the barriers.


Icy wind shriek banshee war-cries over the high Himalaya, snapping at the lower half of a young woman's claret leather coat. Altitude and lung-searing temperatures conspire to murder this endeavour before it begins. A nod to the Inhuman heir acknowledges his request. She steps forward, snow crunching under her leather boots, and flicks her wrist just so. Her incarnadine halo blossoms into radiant relief, mirroring the door opened in reality. Blackagar is the first through; a few heartbeats later, the sorceress follows in his wake. Sparks rapidly cooling to amaranth descend and vanish, the gateway shut behind Wanda. A slender knife is sheathed in the leather vambrace at her wrist, concealed by her long sleeve. The parchment curls in her grasp.

She does not curtsey or bend at the knee to the gathered Council, but inclines her head as a sign of respect. Thumb pinches to index finger, the remaining digits straight. She raises her right hand, palm outward: the vitarka mudra. Eldritch power ripples over her, a fine-tuned balance settling in. Several moments pass; her gaze skims over them all. Then she speaks.

And her voice is not her own, but his: a rolling, masculine baritone registering each word precisely, one that goes down like finely aged whiskey, smooth, tempered by peat and fire.

"I am Blackagar Boltagon, son of this chamber and heir of these people and the first accused of the royal family of Attilan. For no crime, for no fault other than birth and jealousy of a mad brother, I was banished from this, my home, along with those loyal to the ideals of my lineage.

The struggle for the soul of Attilan rages now, after laying dormant for a decade, outside of the walls. The struggle, spurned not by quest for power or glory but the necessity to unhook a historic and noble people from the reins of insanity and destruction.

From my youth, I listened to stories from our elders of the glory days of the Inhumans. Of our acts, our deeds, and our purpose in this world. Of who we are, ideals that now are being rejected under the guise of protection. Protection and security are not the absence of fear but the spawn of the fearmaker. My brother Maximus has clouded and polluted your minds, corrupted our purpose to that which we were not brought into being.

During my lifetime, I have wandered this planet searching for purpose and meaning. It has come to me, only now at this moment of crisis, what that purpose is. I have dedicated myself to the Inhuman people, believing it was best to respect the wishes of this council by honoring the exile I was placed under. But now, I have come to see that this was done under false pretenses. My loyalty is, and always will be, to Attilan and the Inhumans.

I call on you to reject the binds of Maximus. I call on you to reject the binds of any that would call themselves King and instead let us return ruling of our people to the Genetics Council and together under their guidance forge a path for the Inhumans in this world from which we can no longer hide. This ideal, is one that I hope to live for and see achieved. However, it is one which I believe in so fully that if necessary I will die for it."


Maximus jumps back from the sudden CRUSHING of his precious baby! "NOOOO!" He yells as Lorna crumples ALL THAT WORK into an angry ball. It does sputter some mist, but its not enough to cause terrible trouble, all the precious capsules trapped inside its ball. The humans, however, are tugged into a smaller circle, so that they are like a clothing rack, shoulder to shoulder.

And then things get worse. All his Alpha Primitives…he can feel them disappear. Clamping his hands to the railing, he looks out to see what the effing problem is and…there they all are, sleeping on the job. Blue eyes narrow sharply. "My /leopards/. My /army/." He hisses. Xavier would feel the mind focus now, more dangerous than before. With nothing else to control, it is as if he /searches/ for someone near enough to affect his will upon. They are beyond his reach, right now, but there is danger in getting too close to the King on the balcony. He can see the terrigenisis cocoon and this makes him laugh, painted red lips spread overwide. "A new Inhuman, PLUCKED from your band! How unlikely!" He makes a series of gestures to his nearby guards, who make other motions, signalling about the city. Damage has been done, however. Several other machines attempt to operate. One of the machines fails all on its own, another is missing enough pieces ripped off it from Magneto and Lorna that it ejects a large glob of /something/ all over its own self, instead of whatever the intention was originally. The typical guns are still active, potentially, though. His anger becomes palpable and his form retreats from the balcony, bringing two guards with him, deeper into the throne room, to await a showdown. "And where is my silent brother? He did not even bother to /show up/ for this. Perpetually unpunctual…"


For a few moments, Erik is forced to simply watch and observe. He can feel his power draining into Lorna, and watches her using it with a worried look upon his face. The pain in his head, the sickness in his belly, it's overwhelmed him and left him lying on the ground like a waste.

Fortunately, the mists effect on him are fleeting, for he was not exposed to much. What it does allow him to do is focus on the words Fitz is delivering, and he turns his head toward the young scientist. He tries to speak, but only a croak comes out.

Then, Charles is shutting Lorna down, and with it, the power she was siphoning comes snapping back to him like a rubber band. Erik yelps and actually sits bolt upright in response, feeling incredibly dizzy but suddenly less sick. There is a moment of determination, looking on while Crystal calls for the retreat and regroup, and then he forces himself to his feet and approaches the young SHIELD scientist.

"If we get you there," he tells Fitz, "can you disable it?" He casts a look toward the cocooned Daisy, noting Medusa's warning, then looks back toward Fitz. A grin forms beneath the helmet when he pieces that interesting development together. A hand goes for the scientist's shoulder, an encouraging hold. "She'll be fine."


Leo is pulled off the cocoon by Medusa's hair, but his finger continue to grasp towards the woman. "She's flipping terrified!" he motions towards the now-cocooned Skye. But there's little that Agent Fitz can do. "Should've stayed in the lab," he murmurs softly. His posture sinks and his body. His fingers rake through his hair." The lick to Fitz's face has Leo absently scratching Lockjaw's ears.

Leo's head cants towards Erik. His lips purse, his jaw tenses, and, calculatingly, he manages a vague nod. "With the right materials, the right combination of materials, and the way… well we'd have to work with the power couplings, the energy source, and the capacity… possibly. I'd have to see the mechanism close-up. This tech is beyond any capability I've seen, but it's not impossible, and if I could get Jemma, together we could do it — " and she would have tidbits to help him focus throughout. " — but there's still the added issue we need to contain the contaminant. I need to create a unit to collect it!"


Charles lets out a slow breath as the remaining thralls of Maximus slump, unconscious. He raises his chin, a set of blue eyes down below to meet the glare of those on the balcony, as every effort Maximus might make to seize control of the minds still conscious in Medusa's group are swatted firmly aside. You don't need a crown to prove your value, Maximus. Can we not end this violence for today? he sends.

Already walking back towards Lockjaw, he's ready to move if Crystal relocates them. Once they can be sure the captives are safe, he's ready to enforce that transition from fighting to talking if need be..


Crystal holds that line of fire as she backs toward Lockjaw, heedless of the blood that drips down her side. "Charles. I need you to keep him out of our minds once we're up there so that Agent Fitz can do what he needs to. I can handle the…contaminant," she adds, glancing over her shoulder at the scientist. "But we have to get those people free. Erik, Medusa. We'll need you to cover us."

Once everyone is back to Lockjaw, it's time for another teleport - a much shorter one. The Inhuman dog winks out of the square, rematerializing the group back on the balcony with Maximus and his machines.

Meanwhile, in the Council Chamber, the grouping of men and women who are the new genetic council sit. Blackagar's arrival is a surprise, yes. But one they're willing to entertain, waving off the skeleton crew of guards left to keep an eye on them. Maximus hasn't been a poor ruler - not to them, at least - but things are happening outside. Things they've heard whispers of. Things that make them willing to listen.


Medusa has been clearing a path toward Maximus in the distance, but Crystal's voice is one that her ears are always attuned to. Retreating from her proto-roaring rampage of revenge, she steps back once more, though does not join the group. As locks of hair flail wildly, whipping with vicious force at any who come too close to the group, she toward the nape of her neck gently wraps around the coccoon and deposits it next to Lockjaw. "I remain!" she calls out. "She goes with you!"


Blackagar looks toward Wanda as she mimics his voice through her illusion and nods his approval after the sentiments are delivered. His eyes trasition then to gaze over the Genetics Council to read them as well. With no outbursts or shouts of disagreement being issued he turns then towards the exit from the chambers and begins to make his way to where Maximus would be holed up, upon his high perches. As he begins to step, he pauses however and writes upon his slate to display it to Wanda so that she can speak it to the council before he departs.


Good news for Fitz! The device doesn't really need /disabling/, because Lorna crushed the main portion of it into a ball. However, those people still need to be freed and each one appears to be near some sort of outlet for gas dispersal. With the machine damaged, its precarious work. He'll have his hands full. Full of tragic, broken machinery. That might suddenly gas him if he makes a mistake.

When the group appears on the balcony, Maximus is not very far away. And he is /happy/ to lash out at them. He tries to grab Crystal, familiar with her mind. Xavier's defense swats him away. Magneto. UGH, something prevents him there. So, he has no choice but to put his focus on Xavier. "BUT I /AM/ THE KING!" He yells at the man, defiantly. And also it should be noted, he looks amazing. Weird. But amazing.


Her — by extension, Blackagar's — declaration follows after several moments of quickly reading the slate. Wanda addresses the Council with an opaque expression and hooded eyes: "I will be removing Maximus from power now, until I am either stopped or it is done."

Tick. Tock. She chooses her timing carefully, measuring out the pause until it threatens to buckle under its own anticipation ro loss of focus. "End this yourselves. Stand up, and retake your place as overseers of our people."

With no further statement, she turns to Blackagar and raises an eyebrow.


With a quizzical tilt of his head and a squinting of his eyes, Magneto studies the rambling scientist for a moment. "Hey," he tells the young man. "We'll make it work. Alright?"

Turning away, the Master of Magnetism reaches out a hand, testing his powers. Those metal plates that had been protecting Lockjaw under Lorna's power begin reforming, slamming into the ground and forming a shield around the fallen Marie and his sleeping daughter. Only then does he reach a hand for Lockjaw.

Once teleported, he pats the dog twice on the rump in an encouraging manner.

Once there, Magneto takes up guard around Fitz. He raises his hands, and various metallic objects all around buzz and rise up into the air, ready to be utilized. "You're a lunatic," he spits back at Maximus. Those objects, with a twist of his hand, begin twisting around into blunt objects, and they all begin assorting themselves in an array pointed directly at him in a menacing manner.


A grateful thought is sent to Erik as he sees to the protection of the two unconscious girls. There's time for little more however, as Maximus snatches for first Crystal then Erik, finally shouting at Charles himself when his efforts are turned aside.

"But are you king for the sake of your people, or for the sake of your identity?" Charles replies calmly, shorter than most of the others and honestly not looking nearly as stunning as Maximus, even with Erik's singular taste in armor to help matters.

"Anyone who wishes too desperately to rule would often rule far better were they to truly examine why that is."

Calm as he seems, Charles is focused fiercely on making sure Maximus' own abilities are held in check. It leaves him little peripheral attention, though some part of him is reaching out in wordless reassurance to poor Skye.


"That will not be necessary." Blackagar's final statement earns a response from an older man on the council. Old enough to have served the House of Agon for more than one generation. "I believe that it is time we…evolved once more." As the man stands, so do the others of the council, following Blackagar out of the Council Chambers and toward the balcony where the battle still rages.

And rage it does. Crystal reaches out to snare a lock of her sister's hair just before Lockjaw teleports the group to the balcony to continue the fight. Minds and powers spar, seeking advantage. Wind swirls, isolating the area around Maximus' machine. And then the Council arrives - all of them - to see just what the erstwhile king has been up to.

"Maximus of the House of Agon," the man at the head of the Council intones. And as he speaks, a woman steps to his shoulder with a sweeping gesture.

In that moment, everything is frozen. It's her power - no great one, usually. To freeze a localized pocket of time for no longer than thirty seconds. But it's why she's on the Council as well. It does make sure someone can speak uninterrupted.

"Maximus of the House of Agon," the man repeats himself into the stillness. "You have gone too far. You have endangered our secrecy. Brought outsiders here. And worst of all, you've turned the sacred mists into a weapon with no regard for the consequences."


Medusa had nothing in her mind but the urge to destroy Maximus' many minions and make her way to the balcony - which with a blink, she suddenly finds herself at the very location she'd intended to reach as her destination. Startled, she turns to those gathered - and promptly freezes, her hair extended in all manner of terrific way as the world has been put temporarily on pause. Her gaze is locked on the new faces on the balcony, straining in vain to take control of her body once more.


He stood, just behind the council with eyes alert and arms folded in front of his chest. Just within vision of Maximus as the council begins to address him. Blackagar. The brother. The man who would unseat Maximus in whatever means necessary; and the method by which the council has come to address him. There is no arrogance or smug expression about Blackagar. Rather a grim look, a determined, if not sad, look.


Maximus cannot move, or he'd argue, though, SAD FOR XAVIER, he can still hear the man yelling. And maybe Blackagar can too. That it was not he who brought this motley group here, that Blackagar is a menace, that he has defended the people through his brilliance, and so on. Its disjointed, not as organized as a proper monologue would be if he could speak, but the sentiment is there. When he sees Blackagar…again, he is frozen, so he can do nothing for those 30 seconds, but the emotions reeling off him are a complex cocktail of love, relief, hate, anger, fear, desperation and just a smidge of jealousy on how nice Blackagar looks with the headcovering. Max could never pull that off with his headshape.


Frozen as well, Magneto was at least caught in an imposing posture, his hands outstretched. The metal items remain right where they are, still under the control that extends from his mental powers. It's very possible that he might still be able to move those objects, for while he prefers to use his hands as instruments, it isn't truly necessary; it only makes it easier. However, for the time being, everything remains still. That's not a card he's willing to reveal just yet.


This is not Wanda's conflict to interrupt; and without Blackagar saying anything, his one-time herald apparently has no desire to speak either. She maintains her own counsel about the matters discussed, her eyes narrowed a fraction and alert for trouble. The stilling of time leaves a tightness to her shoulders, and later, perhaps, she can write furiously in her journal about the situation. Until then, she watches everything through a remarkably expressionless mask.


It's not Maximus doing this, it's alright. Charles sends hastily to Erik and Crystal, a moment after he himself is shocked to find himself frozen stock still in place.

Crystal may already have guessed what's going on, and Erik seems to be biding his time rather than tipping his hand, but Charles knows how viscerally both of them hate being controlled in any form. Considering all of their powers still seem to be active, he hastens to explain before some incorrect retaliation might lead to more spilt blood.

That being done however, Charles does spare another simple thought to the raging Maximus; But, I didn't ask what you'd done, Maximus. I asked //why you'd done it.//

No, he's sometimes not very good at shutting up, though to be fair he is also good at listening.


"For too long, this Council has stood by." The man continues, though everyone can feel their limbs loosening, feel the woman's power easing away. "We have watched the world pass us by, and been content with keeping our world frozen. That has gone long enough. Maximus, we strip you of the crown. We strip you of the throne. You are king of the Inhumans no longer."

The man turns toward Blackagar, chin rising. "But we do not grant it to you. We do not, in fact, grant it to anyone. Instead, we shall hold it in trust. The world outside, it seems, is changing," he says, looking over those who fight against Maximus. "Let the House of Agon go forth into the world. Let them learn of what lies beyond. Let them build bridges with the people who are not of Attilan. Let them prove themselves worthy. For now, as it was for centuries, this Council will rule Attilan. You may visit at need - this is your home. But you will not stay here without our word."

The power holding them all still fades away, letting them move again, though the woman who froze them still has a frosty look of warning saying there's more where that came from.


Once free to move, Medusa's hair contracts, wafting around her head and body in a lazy rhythm. Her eyes dart to Crystal, then Maximus - and finally Boltagon - filled with uncertainty, before they come to rest on the auburn haired woman serving as Black Bolt's voice. Lifting her chin, she moves forward, having nothing to say for the moment, and trying very hard not to project a sense of loss and confusion. But then, "And the daughters of House Amaquelin? Do you lift the ban Maximus the Mad placed on us, and all those others he cast out?" Can they go home?


Blackagar simply nods towards the speaker for the council, acknowledging the statement, as it is what he had desired anyway. His eyes drift towards the others of the Inhumans that had made their way, the Exiles, before he manages the barest hint of a smile.


Maximus looks so offended! His face distorts the very moment that he can move again, and he is about to rail. His mouth opens, full of fury and, like a cornered animal, ready to lash out and everything and everyone in one flurry of destruction. He meets his brother's eyes and he takes a step forward, white robe swaying with the motion. It is impressive just how many muscles in his face he is able to scrunch and twist at one time. Then his eyebrows lift and move together and he lifts his chin, still staring at the other Boltagon. His jaw works and his face settles to a smooth countenence. With an elegant gesture he reaches up to the silvery crown and lifts it off his own head. "Rather than conquer…I see we settle for a…draw. Hmmm, Brother?" He takes a deep breath. "It is good to see you again." He glances towards Medusa. "And you." Holding the crown, he exhales and then drops it and kicks it in one last act of a petulant child, pursing red lips. A glance to Crystal. "And youuuu cheated."


As feeling returns to his limbs, Magneto flexes his fingers and blinks his eyes. That was… unpleasant, to say the least. Once the annoyance is passed, he considers whether to maintain his weaponry, pointed down from the air toward Maximus as they are, or whether it might be more… diplomatically apt to lower them.

Of course, then he recalls that Maximus had fashioned a global terror weapon. So… the weapons remain right where they are.

At Maximus' display, the items draw back a bit, pulling farther away from Maximus, like arrows being nocked in an invisible bow. It would seem that, at the first sign of violence, Magneto is ready to deliver a pretty brutal message.

And yet, Medusa asks a question that draws his attention. He hesitates at first, trying not to look away from his target, but eventually, he simply can't. He turns and does not look to Medusa; instead, he looks toward Crystal. It's difficult to tell just what's behind those eyes, unless someone like Charles is looking; Crystal, however, won't need telepathy to know just what he's thinking.


And…it seems the fight may actually be over, and with the council of Attilan seeking understanding and peace with the outside world, no less. Charles lets out a breath his posture relaxing. His mind however stays alert, making sure everyone is alright. Charles can still feel Lorna and Marie's minds resting safely back in the square, they'll be okay. Skye is half aware, but settling some from the utter panic she'd been in initially, poor girl…one of SHIELD's agents being a dormant inhuman? Quite a surprise in it's own right, but mercifully no one actually died from the gas.

And if the council is as forgiving of Medusa and Crystal… «Your exile my finally be over.» Charles sends, including Erik and Crystal both. More to subtly give them a silent way to talk to one another than anything, considering how such a change would affect them personally. For his part he remembers how Crystal once mentioned the school becoming a second home for her in it's way, and he has faith that whatever happens this won't be any sort of permanent goodbye.


Crystal holds a hand over her side, stanching some of the bleeding as she arches a brow at Maximus. "I did what I had to do." She smiles faintly to Erik, though, reassuring, a faint gesture urging him down.

The head of the Council looks to Medusa, head dipping. "Royal blood has much to prove, your highness," he says. "You are not exiled, but your task now lies outside of the city. As I said, you will be welcome to visit, but this will not be your home for some time still. Represent us to the world." He looks to Magneto and Charles, to Fitz with his SHIELD equipment, to the cocoon that holds an outsider. "It seems we will not be hidden long. That perhaps there will be need for us. Gather information. Make allies. Speak for us, and keep us safe."

He looks to the guards then, a dry expression. "Do remove those people from this device. We'll gather the terrigen. We'll care for this…" A glance at the cocoon. "New Inhuman. Your wounds. Stay the night. But in the morning, you will take up new duties."

"It is the beginning of a new age."


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