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Jul 15, 2016 19:19:13 GMT
Post by VALKYRIE on Jul 15, 2016 19:19:13 GMT
 Phoenix's puppet charges her and Thalia holds her ground because that's all she knows how to do, because she has nothing left to lose. She re-ups her shields like they're going to do any good at this point, pours everything she has into them because if she can slow the flames down for a moment, a heartbeat, maybe she can do something with that time.
(She already knows she can't, but she didn't get this far by rolling over and giving up in the face of impossible odds.)
But when the body that used to be Burning Man slams into her, the pain doesn't come from where she expects. Which she should have expected. Pain always finds a new way to surprise you, to burrow under the defenses you've so carefully built.
This time it's in her mind and she should have known better, but it's impossible to think beneath the burning brand of that word, WEAK, emblazoned across the inside of her skull. There's a moment when that's all there is, and then she feels her barriers give way, the iron wall that's stood between her and everyone else's mind for over a decade, crumbling into a handful of dust.
It feels like someone dragged a white-hot knife through her brain. It feels like smoke in her veins, in her eyes, her mouth. Now, in the face of this, she can't stifle her scream, and the power comes rolling out from her like its chasing the sound, a rolling wave of telepathy that hits like a brick wall to the face against everything in its way.
But nature abhors a vacuum. There's a moment of quiet stillness inside of her head, poised delicately on the edge as everything sweeps out; and then the rest of the world floods back in, unstoppable color and noise. She stumbles backwards, trying to drag her ruined body away from the Phoenix empowered husk, hands clenching into fists; all of her wrenches and shudders like she's being unmade.
Above them, the glass that Jakob was losing control of pulls back into itself and grinds itself into fine, harmless grit. She doesn't notice.
sigma
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sittin' on the hood of my chevy singin'
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Jul 15, 2016 19:41:49 GMT
Post by sigma on Jul 15, 2016 19:41:49 GMT
we’re going to die, jake thinks.
there’s a serenity to it. he’s looked his own death in the face a couple of times. it has a way of putting things into perspective. time slows down, the world focuses into perfect clarity, the metahuman body overclocked by survival instinct.
he’s already moving forward, the charges heading straight for his face, and he knows with absolute clarity their paths, their trajectories. the adrenaline sets the sound of roaring, fire or crashing waves or a chorus of screams of terror, who knows. he pushes.
the charges hit the ground where he was, flash fire up his back, but his elbow is colliding hard with the burning man’s skull with all of the impossible force he is capable of, and he feels the agony but ignores it. kill it, his instincts scream, destroy it so there is nothing left and he is still processing it as he’s pushing past, arms wide to catch thalia by the waist and pull her away. he doesn’t know why it’s so important, just knows that he has to.
“close it, rush!” the kid is flagging, barely standing, and if they survive he’s going to put the young man up for commendation, but right now the spiralling abyss is more foe than friend. he’s going to have to get up close, after all.
he’s going to break this guy, no, this thing’s entire body even if it fucking kills him.
MURDOC |
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Post by MURDOC on Jul 16, 2016 8:14:40 GMT
the moment it has ripped off the hinges to the valkyrie's mind, it is met with a blast it didn't quite expect, and the body of the burning man is pushed back two, three, four feet before it is anchored to the floor, and then met with a mental suction that almost pries away focus from all but her. it is abrupt, but the phoenix can handle it, it can simple grab her psyche and rip it asunder and then the field of stolen vision goes from staring down thalia to its own chest as sigma smashes into his head, and physical vision blurs. it should have damaged vertebrae, even snapped his neck on impact, and maybe some part of it is broken; it doesnt matter. the body is held together by something stronger than a vessel at this point, and the face works its way back up to see the trio of heroes still trying to resist, to act. the flames that have been eating up his body grow in intensity. he is almost a white center in the room and now his bandages burn away, away, and there is no flesh no, just a skeleton on fire, muscles practically made of the same flame, the only remaining remnant being a vest of explosives. another mental shout into all of their minds; no words, just a cry of war, a cry of things to come. he amasses the flames and psychic energy into his arms, doubling the flames in size, and moves forward to attack them.
i'm taking over for the burning man due to posting delays and general absence. the burning man is gone; phoenix force has consumed him entirely. take him out, boys. G. Rush VALKYRIE sigma |
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Jul 17, 2016 22:29:12 GMT
Post by G. Rush on Jul 17, 2016 22:29:12 GMT
He hears screaming, and in the mess of fighting, it felt like he was in the middle of a war. He pictured, as his mind swam, the consequences of leaving this person -whatever it was at this point- free into the city. If they couldn't stop him he just might go on a killing spree. He didn't have many people he truly cared for, but there was one among them that he knew he couldn't live without.
Hearing Sigma's shout, he coated his body in a protective gravitational field. He had a better plan than just merely closing up the black hole he'd created. Even if ended his life, even if his loved one might hurt from the loss of him, he couldn't risk danger like this from spreading into the city.
He pushed himself to his hands and knees slowly, but the moment he lifted his head he was off the ground and darting to the group in the middle of their fighting. He was scared, though he never showed a thing on his face, seeing the former burning man now turned into nothing but bones ablaze. However, it would be over soon.
Before his body could impact the villain, he pulled away the two heroes with his manipulation of their gravity. Forcing them several feet away, hoping to keep them safe, he collided with the burning figure that was once a man, grabbing hold of him. He could feel the heat eating at his barriers, his nose bleeding from the energy he was spending in this last attempt of his own. Quickly after pushing the two away, he flew straight up into his black hole. If his plan successful, making the man light enough that he could do this quickly he could end both their lives and save potentially thousands.
OOC: Since I god modded a little, if any of this isn't okay for anyone present let me know and I'll fix it~
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Post by VALKYRIE on Jul 21, 2016 7:47:14 GMT
Thalia is barely aware of Sigma dragging her away. Everything is light. Everything is sound, color, nature in riotous growth, unchecked and destructive. blooming inside of her brain like a thousand staggering flowers. Being this close to even an avatar of Phoenix with no shield is like staring into an eclipse. She feels everything slowly slide out of her brain, and she's helpless to stop it.
Her crumpled, burnt fingers dig into her eyes, carving bloody trails down her face, but she can still see the fire.
sigma
thalia is useless this post gg do ya thing sigma. |
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sittin' on the hood of my chevy singin'
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Jul 24, 2016 19:17:25 GMT
Post by sigma on Jul 24, 2016 19:17:25 GMT
he knows a fraction of a second after jakob starts running that the kid is doing something stupid.
fuck.
his arms are still around thalia and she’s in no fit state to defend herself and all he can rely on is pure instinct to guid the flashes between his synapses, his lizard brain holding the reins, and honestly the single conscious thought in his mind is still the single curse echoing in horrified silence.
he drops one knee hard to the concrete to let thalia to the floor in some semblance of gentleness - who knows what will happen should he simply drop her - and the instant he’s back on his feet the wave of force throws him back, and the anger is strongest of all. not at being disobeyed but at the idea of being forced to be a spectator, because he knows that rush intends to sacrifice himself for this and jake refuses. do not go gentle into that goddamn night.
he summons all of the strength he has, pushes back the fatigue with a roar of effort and rage and hurls himself at the younger man. later he will rationalise it with things like escape velocities from gravitational wells, but jake’s mind is blank. he thinks simply of a young man with everything to lose, to live for, and refuses.
the tackle is at crushing force, one arm in a clothesline and curling in tight to trap rush to his own body. hard, too hard, but he cannot afford to falter. not when he is knocking the burning man away, up into the yawning abyss and trying not to flatten rush as he lands, loses his balance, curls in to protect the younger man from the impact.
god, if this isn’t it, they’re fucked.
MURDOC |
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Jul 24, 2016 20:27:46 GMT
Post by MURDOC on Jul 24, 2016 20:27:46 GMT
the flames were intense, fueled by the husk's leftover human emotions and the phoenix' own powers, augmented by the mind, by the vast gift it could give the whole world, but they refused to falter, to halt, to give up. soon the host is hit, is lifted, by the one identified as the manipulator. there is an immediate reaction in the body; it becomes light, harder to manipulate for the moment as the puppet and puppeteer have a disconnection over the sudden change in the situation. the body of the burning man twitches and struggles against rush's grasp, intensifying the flames, burning out, screaming out; it is harsh, bloody to the ears. before he can channel the fires into rush's body, pure through contact, the soldier has changed the situation again and instead will take the strike - as he pushes the boy out and the husk of a man up, a concussive blast of fire is released into his back, his skin, but it pushes everything away and around and then and then the burning man is suspended right at the edge of the black hole, arms and legs out, and there is the notable strain of psychic energy that is just holding it at the edge, at the precipice, and the scream is there again but it is fading as all sound is sucked inside. the flames pull back, almost ripped from the skin, and the last semblances of flesh are torn off to show nothing but a skeleton on fire, and even then the fires are just barely licking away. with a final effort there is one more blast, right at the hole, a concentrate of psychic energy and rage and its a flash, a blow, and the hole closes within the cacaphony and then the remnants of a skeleton slam into the floor; a skull, a torso, a single arm that is reaching up, covered in embers. the eyes are the only thing that burn and there is another message etched into their minds. I WILL HAVE VICTORY.and then the skeleton's finger is pointing at sigma as the entire thing crumbles into dust. there is a wind, a breeze that should not be, as the dust scatters across the room, and its all gone, leaving nothing but ash on the ground and the scars of battle on everyone around.
it dead. G. Rush VALKYRIE sigma |
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Jul 25, 2016 10:58:14 GMT
Post by G. Rush on Jul 25, 2016 10:58:14 GMT
He had already started working on closing the vortex as he rushed to the subject of their torment. He had to do this. No question in mind, no second thought in motion. Rush, fueled by instinct and impulse made his attempt quickly and without regret. He felt the intense heat from the former man he grasped onto, holding firm as he could to keep him in his grasp as he moved. The fire around him was wild, and ate at his shields. Knowing he couldn't hold them for much longer than it would take for him to send them both into the black vortex above, he held his breath and held tight. He didn't think that Sigma, who had been preoccupied with Val, would be able to do anything to stop him in the process of it all, but he had been wrong. With the strong tackle, that then threw him off his original course, Rush felt all the air leave his lungs in a split second. It happened as quick as his impulsive actions had, throwing him off, leaving him unable to stop Sigma once the older man crashed into him. He was left unable to see anything afterwards. Disoriented, head spinning as he felt the impact of their fall, he gasped for air as he briefly struggled to push the older man away. He had to finish this. It was his job and he had to end it! But he stopped. Flinching as he heard one last boom, a wave of wind rolling over them and around the room, he lifted his lids and stared up at the skeleton as it slowly receded into the darkness with the message in his head left behind. With what energy he had left, he finished closing the black hole. Feeling like much, useless and weak, he blacked out a moment later. VALKYRIE
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Jul 25, 2016 20:10:15 GMT
Post by VALKYRIE on Jul 25, 2016 20:10:15 GMT
The void in her head as Phoenix dies is black space, blank space. Her hands scrabble for purchase against the unforgiving ground, and she chokes on the pain as her ruined skin flexes and tears. Her eyes wrench open, tears leaking down and mingling with the blood on her face, and she looks at G.Rush and Sigma. There's an awful hole through Sigma's shoulder, charred at the edges, and the kid--the kid has just passed out. Phoenix, or at least just its avatar, is gone. Everything has happened without her, and she has washed up back on the shore expecting to be the same girl, in the same place.
Instead she's 30 miles west on foreign soil. Thalia rises unsteadily to her feet and staggers over to Sigma. Her own hands are still ruined, the bloody furrows in her face still raw and open, but she extends her hands palm-down over the wound the fire punched through his shoulder and tries to focus.
She can hear them now--voices muttering at the edge of her head, some of them loud and some of them quiet, but all of them there, and she searches for one she can use. There must be a doctor here somewhere, she knows it, but the muscle she's using is unused and rusty from years of ignoring it. It's weak. It strains as she stretches it further--a hundred yards, three hundred, searching, but there he is, there's a doctor, bent over a janitor who was caught in one of Phoenix's blasts, and she rips into his head with silent apology; she doesn't know how to do this gently. Sigma is lucky she can do it at all.
Healing herself is easier than healing other people. She needs knowledge for other people, and she pulls it from the doctor's head and sets Sigma's skin and muscle aright, starts to slowly undo the damage Phoenix inflicted.
sigma
thalia did something!! |
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sittin' on the hood of my chevy singin'
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Jul 25, 2016 21:01:44 GMT
Post by sigma on Jul 25, 2016 21:01:44 GMT
there’s a high ringing in his ears, the sort of shrill whine that comes in the silence after fire and shots and thunderclaps, and he’s aware of something pushing him, rolling him over as he lies dazed, winded. his body is numb the way that a coating of ice does it, the outward shallow burn and then nothingness within. it’s probably shock, he realises dimly.
he lands up on his back, eyes up at the ceiling, movement somewhere peripherally, and when he moves his head to follow it he sees the burnt edges. that probably shouldn’t be there.
it sits under the wing of his collarbone, on the left, and he winds his mind back to check. a touch, brief, the faintest brush in counterpoint to his shove, but to his back, and oh.
his mind is drawing a blank, sugar-starved, shell-shocked, but all he can really think is sheyda is going to be pissed and the thought twists like a second fireball blasted through his gut. he shouldn’t care. he doesn’t- no, he doesn’t want to care.
he’s just aware of the pink hair above him, thalia back to her senses, and despite the rippling wave of nausea as she sets her ruined hands on him he’s relaxing. she’s alright, thank god she’s alright, and not even the stab of fire that is the flesh and bone of his ruined shoulder starting to knit together will temper the relief. they’re all alive. that’s what matters.
“thanks,” he murmurs, weakly. “glad you’re... okay.”
his vision is starting to unfocus a little at the edges. the fatigue setting in. he’s tired.
the phoenix still rules texas, but at least HQ is safe.
jake closes his eyes with a sigh. small victories.
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