http://trainedweapon.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
trainedweapon.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
xmutanthigh2010-09-26 01:49 am
trainedweapon.livejournal.com) wrote in xmutanthigh2010-09-26 01:49 am
Entry tags:
[scene] hey sweetie!
Characters: Laura, Meg, etc.
Setting: Out and about in town, then the mansion.
Content: Kimura finds Laura.
Status: Complete.
“What do you think are the chances though? I mean, he could like me, right? You said he said he didn’t see me as a friend, so what does that mean he sees me as? It’s a possibility!”
Laura bought a spoon filled with chicken soup to her lips. With a satisfying slurp, one of the noodles disappeared, and she stared silently at Meg’s face as she rambled on about Jono, his feelings, and the school’s rather large congregation of people accompanying him to England.
“Oh God, but what if!” she continued with a groan, and then slumped over her sandwich, her brow furrowed and face contorted in disappointment and worry and pain. “What if he really does still love her? And seeing her sparks something, and then--and then--oh, I’m so stupid.”
“You are not stupid,” Laura interjected quietly, but Meg only offered her a gentle, grateful smile before drowning her sorrows in the rest of her strawberry milkshake. Laura ate one last spoonful of soup, hunched over the table.
It was a dreary September day, and the grey clouds cast their table in a soft, pale light. Laura huddled deeper into her fur-lined jacket and watched them roll past, one after another as Meg sighed heavily and reached for her bag. “Well, we can look on the bright side,” she said optimistically as they slid out of the booth. “I’m going home, sort of! And you’re coming with me! I’ll take you to all the shops in London. They have a huge Gothic sort of underground, so there’s plenty of shops you’d like. It looks like a storm, doesn’t it?” She sighed again as they hit the sidewalk. “Great.”
Laura’s brows furrowed as they paused to look up into the sky, the cold, electrified air brushing the hair from their shoulders. She sniffed in the ozone, the people on the streets, the decay of summer leaves and the clean scent of rain. Her back straightened. Her hand shot out to grab Meg’s wrist in a shackle grip before the other girl could walk towards the bus stop.
“Megan,” she said calmly, firmly.
“Hey, ow, Laura,” she said, turning to her friend. The slight confusion on her face morphed into concern. There was slight panic in Laura’s eyes, and that never happened. Laura never panicked. “What’s wrong?” she asked in a hushed voice, leaning closer.
Laura didn’t need to answer - there was a deafening, mechanical whirring that had sounded like a hovering helicopter just a moment before, and Meg and Laura both looked up just in time to see the army-sized aircraft lowering closer to the ground. Meg could just make out a team of suited men standing equipped and ready inside - and a woman. A woman with too few pieces of skin-tight leather covering her body, with a wide grin that chilled her to the bone.
“Run,” Laura said simply.
“What?!” Meg yelled, her breath catching in her throat.
“Run,” Laura repeated, her voice strained, and it was without pause that Meg obeyed this time, adrenaline pumping through her veins. They sprinted down the block, Laura’s grip still tight and unforgiving on her wrist. People were starting to run into shops, screaming and pulling out their phones to call the police.
It was only when they ducked into a laundromat that Meg realized there were two helicopters - one on each side of the block. Suited and armed men were jumping down to the ground, swarming the streets. She saw a red laser of one of their guns just touch her arm before Laura kicked open a door and pulled her into a back parking lot.
Laura didn’t hesitate - she ran, got to her knees beside a car and opened it with one unsheathed claw. Meg fell to the ground beside her. “Laura, what’s going on? Who are those people?”
“Get in,” she ordered, hardly registering Megan’s panicked questions.
“Laura, what’s going on?!” she yelled.
“Hide in the car, now!” Laura yelled back, and it was with such urgency and threat in her voice that Meg did so immediately, her hands shaking as she huddled into the back seat. Laura slammed the door shut behind her. Her figure disappeared.
She heard them before she saw them. The scuffling of boots outside the car, the crackling of intercoms and voices. Their shadows. “Picking up a heat signature,” said a voice. And then she saw a helmet through the car window - all steel with three circles - she couldn’t see the soldier’s eyes. “Have visual. Locking target.” Meg’s breath caught in her throat as he raised his gun, and without another moment of hesitation she lifted her hands, brilliantly pink pixie dust filling the air between them.
“What the-” The soldier’s confused tone cut through the quiet - she wondered what he saw besides her terrified, small form, and then he made a sound. A horrible, choked sound. “Uhk.”
Two perfect adamantium claws were sticking out from his gut. Meg’s jaw dropped as they dragged up through his ribs and guts like butter, then disappeared. All at once, deafening gunfire blared through her ears. She brought her hands up to cover them as the soldier's dead, bloody body fell against the car and then to the ground. She heard one, two shots hit the car, and then the bullets strayed elsewhere.
Laura, she thought. She’s drawing the gunfire to her. She needs help.
-
Her combat boots jumped off the hood of cars, her legs strong and sprinting despite the barrage of bullets at her back. She felt them graze her, clip her. Felt more than one or two pass through her gut and torso. But she ran without flinching, hoping Meg would listen to her. She had served her purpose. She was as safe as she could be at the moment.
BUDDA BUDDA BUDDA BUDDA. The clip got her in the side, blood and flesh exploding and healing over even as she grabbed a light pole and swung, the blade in her foot extending with a promising ’snikt. It sliced a soldier’s throat, and she used the momentum of kicking off his body to grab another soldier’s head and break his neck clean with her feet.
She landed with perfect balance, letting out a angry cry as her claws erupted from between her whitened knuckles, and she jumped from the car, somersaulting to the ground. The claws in between her toes pierced two soldiers under their chins as she flipped over. She gutted another as she ran through the cover of cars.
A decapitated head hit the ground. An arm still clinging to a machine gun. Blood spurted from a stabbed jugular. It happened fast, efficiently. She left a trail of blood and bodies in her wake. And then the explosion.
Too loud and powerful to be a grenade. Concrete debris, fire, and wood. Kimura had exploded the building closest to her. Laura was pushed off her feet, sent flying, one of her arms shattering on impact with the ground. Fire licked and burned, seared through the side of her face. She could hardly move, but she blinked her eyes open against the heat, the flames, the dust, pushed herself up with her good arm as the other quickly healed.
Soldiers surrounded her, their guns trained.
Kimura walked into the circle, looked down at her with that familiar, cruel and empty grin. “Hey, sweetie!” she exclaimed excitedly. “Weren’t you with a friend?”
She made the signal. Bullets tore through Laura’s body from all sides. There was only pain. Dying, healing, dying again. But it ended, left her bloody but in one piece, face down on the ground.
“That was for killing most of my team, animal.”
Meg, Laura thought, just as Kimura’s fingers curled into her hair, brutally tugged her to her knees. Her claws unsheathed with identical ’snikts. Please be safe. Please.
“Oh, X. You know those can’t hurt me. Don’t embarrass yourself. You’re coming with me this time. No games, no cleverness. Just you and me.”
“No,” Laura whispered firmly.
“We’ll find your friend, X. I’ll find all your little friends at that mansion. And I’ll kill them all. You know I can. You know I’ll do it.”
Laura’s eyes darted over the rubble, the soldier’s feet, the mess of burning cars and the destroyed building as Kimura spoke. The car where she had left Meg in the distance. There was something she could do. Something, anything to buy time.
“Yes,” she answered. “I know.” The words were said with a note of finality. But then. A blur of pink and Laura’s gaze immediately zoomed in on Meg, launching into flight, zipping towards her. Meg’s face was pale and she was visibly shaken but the set of her shoulders was determined as she fired shot after shot of hallucinogenic pink dust. Not effective as a weapon, but it bought precious time as the soldiers surrounding Laura became increasingly disorientated, as Kimura stepped back and let her go, both furious and confused.
“Come on Laura, it doesn’t last for long!” Meg yelled at her friend, anxiously eyeing the carnage around them and the guns still clutched in shaky hands.
“Yes,” Laura sighed in slight relief, and was immediately on her feet. “Let’s go.” She took off and Meg followed, flying just above the ground as Laura jumped over cars and they made their way from the wreckage and across the parking lot. Wings beating furiously, Meg tried not to think of what was behind them and focused on what was in front of her, Laura too fast for her to completely keep up with.
Just as Meg was beginning to hope that they would make it out of this, she heard a mechanical, whirring sound that made her heart sink and her stomach churn. She twisted around even as she willed herself to keep going and came face to face with Kimura, clutching a rope ladder hanging from the open side of her helicopter in a twisted mirror of plucking a stranded sailor from the ocean. Meg’s breath caught in her throat as she realised what was about to happen and she desperately tried to escape the grasp of Kimura.
“Laura!”
Laura’s feet landed on the hood of a car; her body pivoted. Meg’s wings were beating hard against the wild air displaced by the helicopter’s blades as the craft pulled up, out of reach. Kimura’s hand pressed over Meg’s lips, muffled her screams. Laura did not blink as she watched Kimura’s wide, triumphant grin.
She lifted her other hand, her free one, the one that was not holding Meg to her side in an iron grip.
There, in her palm, was a detonator. She winked, dramatically and pointedly. This was a joke to her. An amusing game.
Laura braced herself for the blast, but there was no reason to brace herself, to even take cover. Kimura’s finger pressed down on the red switch.
Laura felt the explosion rock the ground beneath her feet. But there was no fire, no debris. Her head whipped around to the north - past the squalor of forest and suburban homes.
In the distance, the mansion had exploded.
-
There was nothing but her heartbeat. Her steady breath. Legs pumping, branches scratching her arms and legs as she ran. Fences she jumped over, yards she crossed.
She ran towards - home.
The mansion. Her friends. (Kitty, Bobby. Bobby, Bobby.) Her family. (Logan. Brother, father, friend.) Her teammates. Her classmates. Hers.
Dead. They could be dead, injured. Meg was alive. Harmed and in Kimura’s hands, but alive.
Perhaps not for long.
She ran faster, ran until she could scale the mansion’s stone walls. Her feet touched the ground, and she did not pause. She ate up the remaining acres in sprints, ran towards the screaming, the crying. The fire and desolation.
She broke out from behind a line of trees. Only then did she stop, her eyes wide with horror, her head tilting back.
It was not the entire mansion that was destroyed. Just the classrooms. The west wing’s face had been blown clean off. Students and X-men, bloody and dirty, permeated and surrounded the wreckage, pulling injured bodies from the remains. The wounded were already being treated, healed. Smoke from the fire filled the air, but there was little fire now.
Hellion and Iceman (Bobby) were fighting off the remaining foot soldiers, keeping them from the school and the defenseless. She spotted Kitty phasing a small, shaking girl from the mansion’s torn face.
She smelled the death. She smelled blood.
But her friends, her family. They were all right. They were fighting.
Kimura had sought to weaken her defenses. To back her into a certain corner. To use what and who she had grown to care for.
Laura’s jaw set. She ran towards the entrance, past the dead, the injured. The healers, the helpers. The students, the X-men, the staff. She needed to change, to gather supplies and intel. There was no time. Her claws tore through her skin, and she sliced through all the soldiers in her way, going for the kill spots without pause and without anything but trained and calculated precision.
Up the gut, into the heart. Jugular. Through the skull. Blood splattered across her face when she caught his scent - Logan’s. And another. Unfamiliar, human. A soldier.
She stayed on her original course. Intel first.
She had to save Megan. Kimura had succeeded, but she was wrong.
Laura would not lose.
NOTE: Since this is over the weekend and the classrooms were destroyed, I think it’s fair to say causalities are about none, and there are more injuries and cases of shock than anything else.
I figured Kimura wasn’t stupid enough to attack the mansion full out, but decimating it and luring the stragglers out would be much easier on her. (But that didn’t going according to plan, did it?)
Kayt's posting another thread soon, and that'll be the open one. Where the fun happens. :D
Setting: Out and about in town, then the mansion.
Content: Kimura finds Laura.
Status: Complete.
“What do you think are the chances though? I mean, he could like me, right? You said he said he didn’t see me as a friend, so what does that mean he sees me as? It’s a possibility!”
Laura bought a spoon filled with chicken soup to her lips. With a satisfying slurp, one of the noodles disappeared, and she stared silently at Meg’s face as she rambled on about Jono, his feelings, and the school’s rather large congregation of people accompanying him to England.
“Oh God, but what if!” she continued with a groan, and then slumped over her sandwich, her brow furrowed and face contorted in disappointment and worry and pain. “What if he really does still love her? And seeing her sparks something, and then--and then--oh, I’m so stupid.”
“You are not stupid,” Laura interjected quietly, but Meg only offered her a gentle, grateful smile before drowning her sorrows in the rest of her strawberry milkshake. Laura ate one last spoonful of soup, hunched over the table.
It was a dreary September day, and the grey clouds cast their table in a soft, pale light. Laura huddled deeper into her fur-lined jacket and watched them roll past, one after another as Meg sighed heavily and reached for her bag. “Well, we can look on the bright side,” she said optimistically as they slid out of the booth. “I’m going home, sort of! And you’re coming with me! I’ll take you to all the shops in London. They have a huge Gothic sort of underground, so there’s plenty of shops you’d like. It looks like a storm, doesn’t it?” She sighed again as they hit the sidewalk. “Great.”
Laura’s brows furrowed as they paused to look up into the sky, the cold, electrified air brushing the hair from their shoulders. She sniffed in the ozone, the people on the streets, the decay of summer leaves and the clean scent of rain. Her back straightened. Her hand shot out to grab Meg’s wrist in a shackle grip before the other girl could walk towards the bus stop.
“Megan,” she said calmly, firmly.
“Hey, ow, Laura,” she said, turning to her friend. The slight confusion on her face morphed into concern. There was slight panic in Laura’s eyes, and that never happened. Laura never panicked. “What’s wrong?” she asked in a hushed voice, leaning closer.
Laura didn’t need to answer - there was a deafening, mechanical whirring that had sounded like a hovering helicopter just a moment before, and Meg and Laura both looked up just in time to see the army-sized aircraft lowering closer to the ground. Meg could just make out a team of suited men standing equipped and ready inside - and a woman. A woman with too few pieces of skin-tight leather covering her body, with a wide grin that chilled her to the bone.
“Run,” Laura said simply.
“What?!” Meg yelled, her breath catching in her throat.
“Run,” Laura repeated, her voice strained, and it was without pause that Meg obeyed this time, adrenaline pumping through her veins. They sprinted down the block, Laura’s grip still tight and unforgiving on her wrist. People were starting to run into shops, screaming and pulling out their phones to call the police.
It was only when they ducked into a laundromat that Meg realized there were two helicopters - one on each side of the block. Suited and armed men were jumping down to the ground, swarming the streets. She saw a red laser of one of their guns just touch her arm before Laura kicked open a door and pulled her into a back parking lot.
Laura didn’t hesitate - she ran, got to her knees beside a car and opened it with one unsheathed claw. Meg fell to the ground beside her. “Laura, what’s going on? Who are those people?”
“Get in,” she ordered, hardly registering Megan’s panicked questions.
“Laura, what’s going on?!” she yelled.
“Hide in the car, now!” Laura yelled back, and it was with such urgency and threat in her voice that Meg did so immediately, her hands shaking as she huddled into the back seat. Laura slammed the door shut behind her. Her figure disappeared.
She heard them before she saw them. The scuffling of boots outside the car, the crackling of intercoms and voices. Their shadows. “Picking up a heat signature,” said a voice. And then she saw a helmet through the car window - all steel with three circles - she couldn’t see the soldier’s eyes. “Have visual. Locking target.” Meg’s breath caught in her throat as he raised his gun, and without another moment of hesitation she lifted her hands, brilliantly pink pixie dust filling the air between them.
“What the-” The soldier’s confused tone cut through the quiet - she wondered what he saw besides her terrified, small form, and then he made a sound. A horrible, choked sound. “Uhk.”
Two perfect adamantium claws were sticking out from his gut. Meg’s jaw dropped as they dragged up through his ribs and guts like butter, then disappeared. All at once, deafening gunfire blared through her ears. She brought her hands up to cover them as the soldier's dead, bloody body fell against the car and then to the ground. She heard one, two shots hit the car, and then the bullets strayed elsewhere.
Laura, she thought. She’s drawing the gunfire to her. She needs help.
-
Her combat boots jumped off the hood of cars, her legs strong and sprinting despite the barrage of bullets at her back. She felt them graze her, clip her. Felt more than one or two pass through her gut and torso. But she ran without flinching, hoping Meg would listen to her. She had served her purpose. She was as safe as she could be at the moment.
BUDDA BUDDA BUDDA BUDDA. The clip got her in the side, blood and flesh exploding and healing over even as she grabbed a light pole and swung, the blade in her foot extending with a promising ’snikt. It sliced a soldier’s throat, and she used the momentum of kicking off his body to grab another soldier’s head and break his neck clean with her feet.
She landed with perfect balance, letting out a angry cry as her claws erupted from between her whitened knuckles, and she jumped from the car, somersaulting to the ground. The claws in between her toes pierced two soldiers under their chins as she flipped over. She gutted another as she ran through the cover of cars.
A decapitated head hit the ground. An arm still clinging to a machine gun. Blood spurted from a stabbed jugular. It happened fast, efficiently. She left a trail of blood and bodies in her wake. And then the explosion.
Too loud and powerful to be a grenade. Concrete debris, fire, and wood. Kimura had exploded the building closest to her. Laura was pushed off her feet, sent flying, one of her arms shattering on impact with the ground. Fire licked and burned, seared through the side of her face. She could hardly move, but she blinked her eyes open against the heat, the flames, the dust, pushed herself up with her good arm as the other quickly healed.
Soldiers surrounded her, their guns trained.
Kimura walked into the circle, looked down at her with that familiar, cruel and empty grin. “Hey, sweetie!” she exclaimed excitedly. “Weren’t you with a friend?”
She made the signal. Bullets tore through Laura’s body from all sides. There was only pain. Dying, healing, dying again. But it ended, left her bloody but in one piece, face down on the ground.
“That was for killing most of my team, animal.”
Meg, Laura thought, just as Kimura’s fingers curled into her hair, brutally tugged her to her knees. Her claws unsheathed with identical ’snikts. Please be safe. Please.
“Oh, X. You know those can’t hurt me. Don’t embarrass yourself. You’re coming with me this time. No games, no cleverness. Just you and me.”
“No,” Laura whispered firmly.
“We’ll find your friend, X. I’ll find all your little friends at that mansion. And I’ll kill them all. You know I can. You know I’ll do it.”
Laura’s eyes darted over the rubble, the soldier’s feet, the mess of burning cars and the destroyed building as Kimura spoke. The car where she had left Meg in the distance. There was something she could do. Something, anything to buy time.
“Yes,” she answered. “I know.” The words were said with a note of finality. But then. A blur of pink and Laura’s gaze immediately zoomed in on Meg, launching into flight, zipping towards her. Meg’s face was pale and she was visibly shaken but the set of her shoulders was determined as she fired shot after shot of hallucinogenic pink dust. Not effective as a weapon, but it bought precious time as the soldiers surrounding Laura became increasingly disorientated, as Kimura stepped back and let her go, both furious and confused.
“Come on Laura, it doesn’t last for long!” Meg yelled at her friend, anxiously eyeing the carnage around them and the guns still clutched in shaky hands.
“Yes,” Laura sighed in slight relief, and was immediately on her feet. “Let’s go.” She took off and Meg followed, flying just above the ground as Laura jumped over cars and they made their way from the wreckage and across the parking lot. Wings beating furiously, Meg tried not to think of what was behind them and focused on what was in front of her, Laura too fast for her to completely keep up with.
Just as Meg was beginning to hope that they would make it out of this, she heard a mechanical, whirring sound that made her heart sink and her stomach churn. She twisted around even as she willed herself to keep going and came face to face with Kimura, clutching a rope ladder hanging from the open side of her helicopter in a twisted mirror of plucking a stranded sailor from the ocean. Meg’s breath caught in her throat as she realised what was about to happen and she desperately tried to escape the grasp of Kimura.
“Laura!”
Laura’s feet landed on the hood of a car; her body pivoted. Meg’s wings were beating hard against the wild air displaced by the helicopter’s blades as the craft pulled up, out of reach. Kimura’s hand pressed over Meg’s lips, muffled her screams. Laura did not blink as she watched Kimura’s wide, triumphant grin.
She lifted her other hand, her free one, the one that was not holding Meg to her side in an iron grip.
There, in her palm, was a detonator. She winked, dramatically and pointedly. This was a joke to her. An amusing game.
Laura braced herself for the blast, but there was no reason to brace herself, to even take cover. Kimura’s finger pressed down on the red switch.
Laura felt the explosion rock the ground beneath her feet. But there was no fire, no debris. Her head whipped around to the north - past the squalor of forest and suburban homes.
In the distance, the mansion had exploded.
-
There was nothing but her heartbeat. Her steady breath. Legs pumping, branches scratching her arms and legs as she ran. Fences she jumped over, yards she crossed.
She ran towards - home.
The mansion. Her friends. (Kitty, Bobby. Bobby, Bobby.) Her family. (Logan. Brother, father, friend.) Her teammates. Her classmates. Hers.
Dead. They could be dead, injured. Meg was alive. Harmed and in Kimura’s hands, but alive.
Perhaps not for long.
She ran faster, ran until she could scale the mansion’s stone walls. Her feet touched the ground, and she did not pause. She ate up the remaining acres in sprints, ran towards the screaming, the crying. The fire and desolation.
She broke out from behind a line of trees. Only then did she stop, her eyes wide with horror, her head tilting back.
It was not the entire mansion that was destroyed. Just the classrooms. The west wing’s face had been blown clean off. Students and X-men, bloody and dirty, permeated and surrounded the wreckage, pulling injured bodies from the remains. The wounded were already being treated, healed. Smoke from the fire filled the air, but there was little fire now.
Hellion and Iceman (Bobby) were fighting off the remaining foot soldiers, keeping them from the school and the defenseless. She spotted Kitty phasing a small, shaking girl from the mansion’s torn face.
She smelled the death. She smelled blood.
But her friends, her family. They were all right. They were fighting.
Kimura had sought to weaken her defenses. To back her into a certain corner. To use what and who she had grown to care for.
Laura’s jaw set. She ran towards the entrance, past the dead, the injured. The healers, the helpers. The students, the X-men, the staff. She needed to change, to gather supplies and intel. There was no time. Her claws tore through her skin, and she sliced through all the soldiers in her way, going for the kill spots without pause and without anything but trained and calculated precision.
Up the gut, into the heart. Jugular. Through the skull. Blood splattered across her face when she caught his scent - Logan’s. And another. Unfamiliar, human. A soldier.
She stayed on her original course. Intel first.
She had to save Megan. Kimura had succeeded, but she was wrong.
Laura would not lose.
NOTE: Since this is over the weekend and the classrooms were destroyed, I think it’s fair to say causalities are about none, and there are more injuries and cases of shock than anything else.
I figured Kimura wasn’t stupid enough to attack the mansion full out, but decimating it and luring the stragglers out would be much easier on her. (But that didn’t going according to plan, did it?)
Kayt's posting another thread soon, and that'll be the open one. Where the fun happens. :D
no subject