1964-10-19 - Return to Iceland Pt 2: Battle Royale!
Summary: In continuing with their confrontation with Wire, the team learns of a shocking new twist to her mutant ability.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
josh logan daire jay gabriel rogue jean-grey 


Sometime in the future; found footage reveals that Jean sent the team to recover a mutant in Iceland, but things didn't go as planned. However, as the footage itself jumps, it appears that something was happening with the ill-fated crew. It was clear that they were there. Or were they?

In Iceland, 'Go Save Souls' were meant to be a call to save lives, as Cassiel and Icarus took to the air, The Wolverine, Rogue, Elixir and Vulcan took to the ground and saw the carnage up close. There were no minds in the area save for one, one that holds the true story as to what lies in the Blacklisted commpound.

Bodies were strewn everywhere, beaten and battered and broken, most torn apart by bullets and some by bare human hands. What's worse, the blood has barely dried upon the concrete that wasn't touched by snow, if one were really focused they could still see the insects that lived in that area go for a swim in the crimson liquid.

The aerial view was not much better; from on high they could see that the facility was just square, one wall caved in due to a Hum-Vee that crashed in the wall that the ground crew were close to. Steams of smoke strewn from the building as a tiny fire licked at the rubber, giving it all a ghastly smell. If there -was- a body in that vehicle? It was either eviscerated or -gone-.

Two men slowly walk the perimeter of the top of the building, their knees crouched, armed and at the ready, their quite possibly dead eyes fixed through the scope. It was a mind numbing pace, but they were not told to look -up-. Meanwhile, Jean tried to search for the singular mind again.

Leaving the crew momentarily alone.


*~I'm disengaging. The link is still there, but I'm going to try to find that mind again. If it is what I think it is.. ~* Jean doesn't finish that sentence, but she was linked with them all, including the Hive-mind with the other half of Team Red-head.. so they could feel the trepidation that was there.

The snow upon the ground near the blackbird was nearly melted due to their landing, but nevermind that. Sitting into the water was a comfort that kept her grounded. As she veered off to search.. she didn't think to take one glance through their eyes to see if everything was safe before she took that dive..

For anyone with keen ears could hear the slight shuffling. A cracking of sinew and bone in a series of snaps heard at a poetry slam.


Along with a slight crunching of the snow and a slide of the body as one of them seemingly rattles to life! Is he dead? Or is he wounded and in need of help?

The advantage of the two guards not looking up is that they are not aware of those flying above them. Daire continues to circle slowly for a time, and then he can hear that sound, the snapping and crackling and popping. It's probably not rice krispies. He checks in on Jay and then where the rest are on the ground, remaining, for the time being, high above so that he can both warn of incoming danger and so he can keep an eye on where everyone is. Large leathery wings beat slowly, just keeping him at a slow circling glide.

Logan moves in on the sentries at the ground level, his dark outfit (it's not a costume!) keeping him relatively well-hidden, especially when combined with his own skill at stealth. He may never exactly be a ninja, but he can do a good simulation under pressure.

He doesn't bother with his claws, not yet, snatching one from behind and dragging him to ground, a metal-boned forearm cinching against his throat, strangling off sound and taking the poor sap into darkness.

Icarus keeps pace with Daire on the opposite end of the canvasing path while they scout ahead. The low ribbon of anticipation-laden music that hums in the back of his head breaks for words while he whispers to himself to focus his words to the rest, *~Two on the roof ahead. With scopes. Huh someone had a bad drive…~* His circle is a coast and practically lackadaisical, the beating of his wings kept to a minimum as he looks up to find Daire against the sky. The wind whips past his ears none the less, questionmarks hovering around his head when he thinks he hears something odd but isn't certain.

Icelandic poetry slams differ a great deal from those in Harlem or Queens. For one, they involve a lot of alcohol, whaling shanties, and ancient epics under the midnight sun. Scarlett knows each and every line rather intimately. Alas, the shuffle-crack doesn't sound much like the artistic fare she knows. Crouching down against the wall near where the Hum-Vee redecorating by punching a hole through, she creeps forward for a better vantage. Her mind is a minefield, erupting stars and black holes overcome by an atypical midnight tide largely confined to Jean. Holding any kind of psychic link with her is pure agony at the end of the day. She nods to Gabriel, and gestures at the direction of that troubling noise. Yes, you've been deputized, young Shi'ar master warrior, you. Go forth and do thy thing.

She'll be the one to follow up behind, creeping to the entrance and glancing in to ensure no one sneaks out from where the crashed vehicle was, or the compound in general. Let those up above making the rounds on the building be taken out by the flying sorts, she's a little more concerned about who's cracking chopsticks.

Josh follows along behind Wolverine, in the middle; he considers briefly putting the other guard to sleep, but decides against it. ~"I'm not going to do anything offensive unless absolutely needed, in case I need to bring anyone back."~ he explains to Jean and through her relay, the others, ~"Resurrection while in the black is… markedly more difficult."~ So he keeps low and quiet and lets the mighty folk do the fighting for the moment.

Gabriel continues to stalk along, relying on whatever alien training he seems to recall. It serves the purpose. At first, his gaze was turned up toward the rooftop and the sentries there - ready to act if they seem to alert to the group, ready to zap their spotlights or return whatever fire they offer. Well, not quite literally. He's a bit more zappy than shooty. Yet Rogue's signal turns his attention toward the weird shuffling form in the snow. ~* Who knows how long they've been out here. But in the cold, injured… I feel the odds for survival are low.*~ Which, by consequence, seems to suggest that he thinks the chance of 'zombie' is high? Still, one of the early conversations about heroing he had with Jean was really about this sort of thing. Preserving life vs. facing risk.

So rather than just incinerate the fallen form, he approaches a little nearer, and then lifts a hand, reaching out, and in the process, causing a crackling orange-yellow construct of energy to 'reach out' in similar fashion. It looks a bit like a crude claw; Shi'ar and their bird imagery! The talons then latch onto the form and lift it from the snow, giving them at least a chance to see if it cries out for help or… brains?

Just the one. If Wire was inside, all she thought that she needed was just the one to watch the hole where the Hum-vee was. Logan's snatch and grab was quick, but not quick enough to elicit a *URP!* from the guard, who's arm flails and automatic weapon flips and clatters against the Hum-VEE with a loud noise.

Cassiel and Icarus would notice it first; mid-stride is when the guards stop moving, both fixed upon a certain location before swinging around again and stopping. It was like a dance, they moved in tandem then not at all…

Then the crackling sound. Then the sound of two thumps, a shuffling of feet as one of the men who lay dead begins its first attempt at life at a crawl.

While Josh's method was noted but not responded to, Gabriel's light snatch and grab aided the thing that slowly began to crawl.. its arms and limbs dangling just like the parts of his head from the side.. and he grunts.

Then coughs, which splatters more brain materia upon the ground.. then lets out an unholy scream that draws a chain of events into motion!

*~SHIT~* One could hear Jean say.

The guards upon the roof were jarred by the scream, in which soon they join in, their fingers laid upon the triggers as they begin to pump bullets into the air, their dances? Odd enough, but near tribal as they march and shoot in all directions, including hailing bullets towards Icarus and Cassiel.

Inside, where Rogue was close to, were more screams. Screams and banging against the heated metal, rocking the car back and forth in a chaotic motion.

If that wasn't enough to cause a ruckus, an unfamiliar voice breaks into the wavelength that the team now share. (Thanks Jean, worse than Obama!)

*~I've got no strings, to hold me down, to make me fret, to make me frown! I had strings, but now I'm free! There are no strings on me!~*

Shit, indeed. Cassiel is busy watching the guards go through their strange dance, moving in closer to attempt to disarm them when they suddenly begin firing bullets in the air. He might be more resilient than the average human, but he is not bullet-proof. So when the guards start firing a hail of bullets into the air, he takes one in the side, driving him back through the air for a moment before he dive-bombs the guard, wrestling the sentry to the ground and grabbing ahold of the weapon to try to wrest it from the puppet-thing's hands.

There's a flurry of wings on the roof, and gunfire, as Daire works on getting the gun free of the sentry without getting himself shot again. Degree of success: unclear. But from the ground it would be clear that one of the two had been at least knocked over.

|ROLL| Rogue +rolls 1d20 for: 12


Once cover is broken, Logan sees no need to play nice anymore. When the other ground guard turns his way, he charges in, driving claws into his gut hard enough to lift the man from the ground, blood spattering on that new uniform for the first and certainly not last time.

Whatever danger the creatures outside manifest, they're the secondary concern. He's got to reach the source and put an end to it, one way or another, seeking a way to get into the building and slashing through anything and anyone that gets in his way.

Well, that song's going to be in Jay's head for the next week. Thanks, Jean.

Icarus was squinting at the odd dance they seemed to be wound up in, looping around quietly to try to mirror his flighted counterpart, but before can worry about the earworm and whatever is happening with Jean, the sound of bullets scream past him. He isn't as hardened as some of the other members of the team, so there is the acidic pang of metal in one's mouth as adrenaline and fear hits him. His stomach lurches, eyes flicking worriedly toward Cassiel. Driven onward, feathered wings simply collapse and Icarus drops like a rock over the roof.

Icarus falls (hah) directly on top of the second gunman on the roof with all his substantial dense weight, his limbs pressed together like a spear to try to make himself as small a target as possible. His state of well-being remains unclear, but what is clear is that he hits his target with a 'Thud' and 'Crunch' on the roof.

Screams deflect off the redhead's subdued exterior. The flames dancing close to the ruined vehicle and the bodies trying to go through, around, and under give her pause. Almost instantly she steps back onto her heel, and lifts a few inches above the icy ground in case an arm snaps out to catch her boot. No need to decide whether her curse extends to the dead, the answer already known to her. She has a job to do, after all. "Close up, and give me a minute. No less than sixty. Gabriel, burn anything that gets nearer. I'll supply the rest." Her gaze soars upwards and she follows with it, the ice crystals tumbling off her boots as she skims straight up the side of the building to the perimeter where she last saw Icarus hitting the deck.

"Icarus!" she hisses softly, darting low to reach him wherever he is in that blaze. "Stay down, let me cover you. Just for few moments, try not to move. I need quiet to do something." Well, close enough to quiet to count for meditative purposes.

Josh winces when Wolverine goes and gets on with the lethal force, "Was that really—" But he sighs and just shakes his head, remembering he's not supposed to be talking. He glances ovr to Rogue, and otherwise keeps just following for the moment.

Gabe - Vulcan - closes his outstretched hand, and so too closes the crude claw of energy, in equal parts burning, cutting, crushing, and tearing into the still-suspended howling body. Then it casts the torn remnants aside in several smoldering portions. ~* Sorry. I didn't think it would have the energy to howl like that, alive or dead. *~ Quickly his gaze turns up to the roof, only to see their pair of winged warriors descend upon the sentries. The situation looks more or less under control, and with the melee, he doesn't risk shooting.

Rogue's order gets the mental equivalent of a nod, some simple acknowledgment, and he rises after her, outlined in a slight halo of energy and glancing around them, using the improved vantage to watch for targets - potentially the whole field of frozen bodies. Though he does wonder ~* Do we have a … plan of ingress? *~

Funny Gabriel asked that; for the point of ingress/egress was by way of the clawing Logan. As he begins to rip the already dead/broken people/hum-vee to shreds, he creates a semi-decent path inside of the facility. To give an over-view of what was inside; a horde. A horde of undead things, flailing and attempting to fight to get to the outside where the intruders lay. But, this was a gift! A gift to them as they see the blood fly, Logan growling, and Josh following behind.

Guess which one they were going to grab?!

Elixir, they were going to try to grab Elixir.

On high, while Cassiel was clipped in the side, his downward dive-bomb proved successful. The minions of Wire were effectively guards and alarms. Their wails to alert to her that she needed to take action, her communication to them to follow suit. She was no battle master, there was no plan in which they had, much like Live. They were there to create chaos, to ruin lives and hurt as many people as they could.

No rhyme, no reason. Just because they had the power to do so and potentially watch the world around them burn.

Once Cassiel lands upon -his- soldier, he was promptly disarmed, but he still had his hands. They flail, punch and scratch wildly, all the while keeping a throaty scream in defense of his attacker.

The second gunman was felled as well, though this time their assault weapon rests in between Icarus and the man, his own fingers jammed which sets off a slight flurry of wiggles in attempts to throw the second winged man off (Icarus). There was something clearly broken in the fallen soldier, for his wails were more akin to pain than alarm!

The initial crack and crunch swallows the scream of the man that Gabriel had captured, the thing crumpling to the ground as the others soon begin to rise. With so much chaos, they begin to stagger and grunt, crawling aimlessly upon the ground, searching for any living thing to get their hands on to either bite or rend to shreds. With Rogue and Vulcan (Gabriel) in the skies, there was nothing for them to grab on. But.. move! Move! Follow the others inside!

The sing-song that blasts through the mental-link immediately ceases, Jean immediately rising to her feet to refresh her own connection to the Hive. Her eyes glow a faint red as she scans the darkness, her eyes darting left and right, and soon to the sky as she grits her teeth, near itching to get in on the action. All they needed to do was just say the word.

*~Sit-rep! It's Wire! I don't know how she's doing it but she's got the whole township inside that building! Be careful!~* AKA.. Don't get caught!

Once Cassiel has disarmed the guard he hits him in the head with the butt of the gun that he takes, attempting to render him at least immobile/unconscious. Then he looks over toward Jay to see if he needs help with the one that he's landed on, but it definitely sounds like the man is broken and it looks like Jay has him under control. He rushes to the edge of the roof to look over and see where the others are and where they are going as they begin to head toward the fire and the opening. Seeing the dead begin to rise, Daire grits his teeth and turns the weapon that he picked up on those that he can see from the roof, trying to give those on the ground some more cover, to keep the dead off of them as they move in.

Jay is conscious after that fallthat mental link still has the winding hum of musical accompaniment that serves as the musician's 'presence'and as Rogue joins her fellow flame-top on the roof, there's a pretty clear streak free of snow on the roof where Icarus hit his guard and they slid about three feet back before coming to a halt.

There's something not quite right with one of Jay's legs, but he doesn't need his leg to rassle. Tangled with the rather broken gunman, the feathered flier grunts and yanks the weapon from cold, struggling fingers with his superior strength. Jay attempts to silence the pained screaming with a hard blow to the head that makes him cringe.

Icarus' head actively whipping up and down to try to differentiate what's happening with Daire across the roof, he's clearly a little distracted and startles when Rogue appears; wings fwipping and ready to knock back an enemy, but quickly compress into his back when he realizes that it's Scarlett. "Ah—" Protest is his initial reaction, but when he watches Daire run across the roof, Icarus falls silent and turns back to Rogue with a resolute nod. Silent and still to follow orders, though his heart is racing. Instead, Icarus keeps a lookout from his perch, both paranoid of the two bodies on the roof with them, and the activity below.

The redheaded bohemienne floats just short of Jay, a higher, taller target for anyone who dares to throw bullets or spit tacks in their direction. Her hands lace together as she arches forward, providing a measure of protection at least as she can. Daire hastening towards them is not a happy sight, if only for the chaos and bloodshed everywhere. But it's not something which she is remotely aware of, not when delving inwards.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Temporal grains tumble through the hourglass when lives hang in the balance, and what, exactly, is Scarlett doing? Well, the ambient bursts that thread through the sky high overhead form a very nice source of energy, and all of Iceland happens to simmer away with what she's potentially looking for. She holds up her hand to capture more of what she can barely see, only feel, pulling from all directions. Certain dishes and ovens are bound to start trembling as she reaches and drags. Microwaves come raining in and down as the ambient temperature around her starts to rise sharply. Say a little prayer for you… A visible aura whirls around her, bubbling around as the stars feed her, the plasma in the sky swirls lazily, and she sucks it in. It has to go somewhere. Any guesses at who or what? "Oh, Vulcan!"

You know who you don't want to grab? The guy whose power is touch-based mastery over organic tissue. When a zombie-thing grabs hold of Josh, he turns and looks calmly at the man, and two things happen at once. First, Josh's skin goes completely black: it's a shiny, metallic black, but its midnight incarnate. Second, from this blackness flows out a golden glow that surges into who is grabbing him. He intends on shutting down the nervous system: a medical coma, basically. How that interacts with the power that puppets the ghoul… is anyone's guess.

Well, an honest-to-goodness zombie horde seems as good an excuse as has ever existed for Vulcan to really flex, to test the extent of his powers without reservation. And so he does.

~* Engaging. *~

Eyes glowing yellow, energy seems to gather, focus, and then finally reaches a point of release. The effect produced is somewhat similar in appearance to another, better-known member of the Summers clan, albeit with its own character: twin beams of destructive force lance outward toward the hostiles, blasting and searing. Targetting the group headed for the opening, the first of the unfortunate re-animated host is almost entirely obliterated, and then more of its fellows are cut apart as, with a gesture that suggests a sweeping, surveying gaze, Vulcan rakes through them with a simple turn of his head. Then another sweeps back the other way, savaging through some of those that might have avoided the first. Of course, he can only keep it so long… or can he? "Yes?" he answers back at Rogue.

In any case, after those opening volleys, he descends toward the entrypoint that Wolverine has torn open, although he doesn't rush to follow inside, hovering still. This is more of a bit of tactical positioning, securing their rear and path of retreat. Egress to go with ingress, one might say. Of course, he can't help but notice the rather large bunch of zombies inside as well, along with those milling and gathering without. ~* Do you require… any help? *~ How much could a Wolverine chop, if a Wolverine could chop… zombies? Nevermind Exilir.

It was utter chaos; what was once the sleepy town that housed a government facility turned into a place of carnage. Cassiel successfully subdues his target much like Icarus; and once he joins the fray down below the noise picks up. Jean can hear and see all, the literal eyes in the sky, for her eyes turn upwards towards the sky itself to see the flashing lights and hear the sounds like thunder. If this was going horribly? She did not say. Even though no sit-rep was given, all eyes were being watched and they appeared no less worse for wear.

And yet, whatever Rogue was doing nearly had Jean pulling out of the link, hovering towards the edge of all of their minds to keep a protective 'stance', her face grimacing as she glances back towards the Blackbird, then towards where the damage lay. Screw it. Time to jump in. There was no sense in her hanging back now, shit went pear-shaped so quick..

Grabbing Elixir was a mistake, clearly, though the undead thing didn't know what mistake was made. His hand was upon Elixir's wrist, attempting to tug and grab with a series of grunts, preparing to claw at the flesh if need be, until that confusing light surrounds him and he near goes slackjawed. "Ughr?" It seems to question, his body shaking and trembling, his knees becoming jelly as he wafts to the ground worse than a fall from Ivar. There was nothing left. Nervous system shut down, eyes near rolled to the back of it's head. The only movement came from him seemed to be the way the drool slides from the corner of his lips.

With Logan making headway further inside of the facility, and Vulcan and Cassiel both handling the undead from outside, the screams from inside were apparent. She was losing control.


Someone was having a temper tantrum, but which 'red rone' were they speaking of?

Not Jean! (Editors note: Her english is terrible.)

Logan cuts and slashes his way deep, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake, "C'mon, kid, don't make this any harder than it has to be," he calls out. "Take yer medicine like a good little psycho," he says, shaking off one that grabs him by the throat and throwing him over, chopping down and stabbing into him to finish the job.

He glances over his shoulder, seeing Gabriel watching his back and nodding to the kid as he charges ahead, intending to finish off this problem once and for all.

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