10335/Graduation Day Pt. II

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Graduation Day Pt. II
Date of Scene: 04 March 2022
Location: Petoskey -- Michigan
Synopsis: The X-Men are given another reminder of the sometimes harsh reality for mutantkind. As if they needed it.
Cast of Characters: Scott Summers, Monet St. Croix, Tabitha Smith, Bobby Drake, Samuel Guthrie

Scott Summers has posed:
There is no one size fits all when it comes to jsut how mutation originates. Most of the time it might manifest during the adolescent, but there are always those outliers as well. Individuals who don't undergo the change until later in life. And some that are even clearly mutants from birth. Sometimes the transition is sudden and violent, sometimes it might be so gradual, the mutation so subtle that it is not obvious for quite some time.

For Scott Summers the transition was distinctly on the sudden and violent side. An uncontrolled burst of power that did quite a number on the school that he attended as a youth. In the dark days between his parents death and his arrival at Xavier's. It was decidedly traumatic, enough so that it likely plays a part in the fact that even to this day his powers remain uncontrolled, only held back by the ruby quartz that the Professor first introduced him to.

All of which is to say that he has a degree of sympathy for anyone who goes through anything close to what he did, that customary stoicism a non-factor at least in these sorts of cases.

It is of course Cerebro that gave them the first warning, the spike of energy indicating a mutant coming into their own. The spike was unusually powerful as well -- frequently a sign of trouble. But in this case, opportunity as well. An opportunity to put the newest potential X-Men to work and see how they handle a live situation, one fraught with a different sort of tension.

So in short order Scott has the chosen team loaded up on the Blackbird and off, winging through the air towards the town of Petoskey, Michigan. Of course it is while they are already in the air that the first news reports begin to roll in, that the town begins to trend on social media.

The pictures are disturbing. The area has that quaint, small town America feel. Or at least it did. At least a dozen homes have been quite literally flattened, at least in part, circles of destruction absolutely crushing anything in their radius completely flat in some places. In others it looks like a tornado has passed through, picking up anything not mnailed down and hurling it into the air.

The destruction seems to have an epicenter, despite the fact that much of it appears to be random. Two homes will stand perfectly fine, untouched, and then the one beside them will be nothing more than crushed rubble. Cars will line the peaceful streets and then another will be flipped on it's roof in the middle of the road. There is no apparent rhyme of reason.

But that one home stands out. It stands out because a dozen or so figures have gathered out front. Huddled behind parked trucks or debris, they aim rifles or guns at the half-ruined home across from them, the muzzles flaring brightly as bullets rip into what remains standing of that structure.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix is holding her hand out and over as the Blackbird would go to land. She's moving to focus her mind when they go in. Not bothering to ask questions, but just trying to telepathically pull whatever information she could. Her telepathy was limited, but if she was lucky everyone would be terrified enough for her to get a general impression ofw hat had happened. Hopefully enough to give the group an idea. to search for any who might have been hurt or were buried in debris.. As they would land, M is silent and trying to just hone her mind.

This also menas being ready to close her mind up in the event that there's too -much- sensation and telepathically she's at risk of overload. Her lips are pursed in focus, and she's going to close her eyes and remain silent as the Blackbird is going for a landing. No time for snarky remarks. Now was just trying to get as much useful things as she could for them to hopefully save lives.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
Tabby might have spent plenty of time doing super heroics out and about but this is one of those times she's under scrutiny. The blonde geared up in her handy and very well loved training x-suit. The black and yellow covered by a red jacket made of synthetic leather with numerous handy pockets sewn inside the lining and filled iwth handy things lke tools and firstaid kits and snacks. There are always snacks. Hair is growing out long enough now she can't even manage that short wild Eighties Retro look much but she does still at least manage to wear her sunglasses, red cateye frames with red lenses that are totally good for glare and might actually be Ruby Quartz if just for said anti glare properties. So many bombs come with bright lights after all.

The situation as it's shown actually makes Boom-Boom nervous. "This could have easily been me. Nearly was a few times befoire I ran." Like Cyclops, Tabitha's power manifested while she was in school. But she didn't leave Roanoke Virginia till almost a year later when t was one beating too much. "Monet? Are you able to see if anyone's been killed. Like from you know screaming family members and stuff? Cause maybe we want to try this like diplomatically. Townies aren't the only one needs help either so if you can get anything out of our newest mutant?" she asks worriedly.

Scott Summers has posed:
The images on social media don't really do it justice, but as they flow low over that quaint little town, Scott banks the Blackbird so that they can get a better glimpse of the destruction before they set down.

And it is such a mis-mash. In some places it as if a ten foot circle simply smashed everything beneath it, the destruction complete and total but almost neatly contained. Like crop circles, but out of people's homes, their vehicles, their property instead of fields of corn. In other places it looks like some giant hand simply gathered up everything nearby and simply flung it into the air, letting it fall as it will.

None of it is reassuring.

Certainly none of the minds down below seem to be trained, which will help Monet. Likewise emotions are most definitely running high and the current situation is top of mind, leaving a host of thoughts to gather. The problem? Those thoughts are also chaotic. In that mind's eye M will catch glimpses of that destruction, though in some respects it makes little sense. One moment everything is normal, the next the person is watching their garage simply collapse in on itself, crushed flat as if some invisible giant strode across it. If invisible giants had perfectly round, 10 foot wide shoes at least. But what is clear is that the half-crushed home the dozen or so gunmen are gathered outside of appears to be ground zero. The first incident. Neighbors reported a scream from the house immediately after, though no one has seen or heard anything since. And while no one might know for sure what's going on, enough have read articles or seen reports on line. Enough subscribe to the newsletters proclaiming the greatest danger in America today. Mutants, of course.

Hence the crowd, firing blindly, ignorantly at what remains of that house.

"There's at least three dead," Scott says quietly as the jet skims the street, having to go nearly two blocks up the road until he finds a park with enough open space to slowly set the swift plane down. "More than a dozen injured. And another five not yet accounted for but presumed dead," he says, that stoicism slipping towards grimness as he unfastened his flight harness and slowly stands. "There's a lot of anger and a lot of fear out there. Do your best not to make it any worse," he says, holding up a portable Cerebro device. "M, if you can try tapping into this. It's not quite as... exhausting as the big one back at the mansion but it has a much more limited range. If you can't, don't worry. We'll get Jean or the Professor to feed us any updates that we need," he says.

"Let's move out."

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would nod, "My mobility will be limited if you have me work with that. Do you feel that my abilities are better suited to being in the field directly or telepathically assisting?" She was not Jean or Emma. She couldn't multi-task to that degree with powers. "I'm not sure I could calm them. Redirect them.. But angry minds are hard to control and redirect." In a crisis situation of panic and danger, she could do litlte more than convince them to point the guns in another direction.

She goes to gesture. "A dozen shooters at least. They don't know what's happening and they'er just shooting everywhere they feel there's any signs of movement or danger. they're at as big a risk of shooting anyone else around them. Civilian or otherwise. Emergency responder.. There's panic and no one has any idea beyond confusion and anger." She would move to close her eyes to focus once more to try and pick up more specifics, then opening them.

"I could take their bullets if needed but it would be painful. I could not disarm them quickly either without injuring them." She was only so fast and so invulnerable. As much as she would never /admit/ her limitations. But in this circumstance the others needed to know what she could do and what she couldn't.

"Is our priority here recovery of the individual that triggered this incident or trying to defuse the situation if it comes down to that?" Hopefully both.

But if push came to shove would they try and tamp down on the fear, chaos, hate, and anarchy? Or just try and grab whomever it was and if they had to get out of there?

Tabitha Smith has posed:
With Scott giving the order to get rolling the blonde woman nods her head and disembarks. All those seatbelts and stuff unclasped so Tabby can get her legs back and she can walk on solid ground when the Blackbird is opened up.

"I'd say ditch the bucket Em. If they start shooting I may need bullet proof cover. We're not as sturdy." she states with a nod to Cyclope and winces at a few memorties of rougher missions and training sessions that have left her bruised and battered.

"And I think talking everyone down might be the better option. Umm, you wanna get the crowds while I try my luck in the house. Maybe a little shared experience might help avoid seeing circular squishing continue." she says and once she reaches ear shot of scared folks as she moves past them to yell out.

"Hi, we're X-Men. We're here to help and make sure EVERYBODY stll here is safe." she calls out and indicates her belt buckle, Monet's, and Cyclops's iconic visor.

To the house she calls out further. "Hey, you mind if I come in? Think you could so with a chat and a friendly face!" she asks with as much warmth as she can manage while also raising her voice to be heard.

Scott Summers has posed:
Welcome to field work. Of course neither Money nor Tabitha are really new to this sort of thing. But it is definitely quite a bit different then when practicing in the Danger Room, when the stakes are nothing more then Cyclops giving an unfavorable review in those after action reports that he deposits outside their rooms after each session. Here the stakes are life and death.


"Right now our priority is to de-escalate the situation and insure no more civilians are hurt. And to make sure that we get this new mutant out of here safely." Ah yes, that's Scott. So demanding. Why settle on one priority when he can demand that both get done? It kind of defeats the purpose of a 'priority' per se, of course, but that doesn't seem to bother him a bit. "That's our goal until it is clear that it is unobtainable at least," he offers up, a slight moderating of the otherwise steep requirements that he is asking for.

"Fair enough. I'll have the mansion confirm that the mutant presence is indeed in the remains of that house," the X-Men field leader says to Monet. On site intelligence is always invaluable of course, but there are other resources. More though, the matter is settled -- at least in Cyclop's eye -- when Tabitha rushes on ahead to try and calm things down. In her own unique way. "Go cover her," Scott says, any exasperation missing from those cool, controlled tones. "I'll be right behind," he adds, already switching on his communicator, murmuring into it to request a status update on just where that mutant threat is coming from.

As Tabitha arrives out in front of the ruined remains of that house, the gathered gunmen that crouch behind their trucks or makeshift barriers do at least stop firing, though when Boom-Boom identifies herself there is no relief etched on any of their features. Only anger. "X-Men?" one asks, while another spits, glaring at the blonde. "East Coast muties, meddlin' in our affairs," another answers, that rifle still held upright and ready to fire.

Though fortunately that gunfire does not immediately resume.

From inside the house there is no answer. If there is anyone inside -- anyone still alive, considering the dozens of bullet holes that mark that outside of the house -- they offer no reply. At least not first. It's only when Tabitha gets closer does someone suddenly scream, voice still thick with tears.

"Stay away! Or I'll kill you too!"

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix has given her initial understanding of the matter. "Very well." Then she would go to let out a sigh as Tabitha would run ahead. She had asked for an explanation of mission parameters from Scott and hse had gotten them. She wouldn't give him a look. She had just asked him in the end if it came down to either hting, what their priority would be if they could not handle both. They might want a perfect world..

But they weren't anywhere near close to it.

Then as Tabitha would go to run along she would just glance at the gunmen, and go to take the opportunity to fly up and over into the air and head in a sweeping arc about twenty meters up in the sky. This would give her enhanced senses hpoefully the ability to scan without having to bother with the smoke obscuring her view or the smell. She was of course not Logan or Laura, so what she could pick up if anything would be limited. But hopefully it would help give her a baseline of where she could start trying to focus and scan for the individual that had done this.

She would speak along hte commlink <<Try and get what information you can from them on what happened. It would be useful if they could tell us about what was going on or what the individual that did this was so we can look out for them>>

Bobby Drake has posed:
As the scene unfolds before him, Bobby Drake sighs. The Iceman has seen this play out plenty of times before. He looks to Cyclops. "Want me to lay down a wall to cut them off? I can make it thin and transparent so they can see what we are doing, keep the mystery away, but avoid any bullets hitting anyone." He sighs for a moment. "I don't know if that will make things worse or not, but it's the best I've got." He looks to Scott for the go-ahead.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
When she hears that one slur Tabitha turns her head back to the gunmen with a glare. "Will you racist assholes shut the absolute fuck up. Put those  damn gunsaway you'll just piss my new friend inside off. Piss me off too. And I have a mean streak." she warns before shaking her head and rolling her bespectacled eyes. Not that should deliberately bomb anyone.

Self defense. Tops.

Turning back to the house the earning that comes to stay away keeps Tabitha halted in her tracks for the moment. She looks for a window that might still have a means to see through and makes sure that anyone inside.

"Everyone okay in there. I'm Boom-Boom. Wanna tell me how all this got started? Not gonna judge. I caused a pretty big mess when I first discovered my powers too." Not that anyone dies but a bunch of people crapping their pants and treating you like an active shooter is stll pretty harrowing for a kid. "Sounds pretty clear you don't want to hurt anyone after all. That's my worry too!"

Scott Summers has posed:
If there is one saving grace in Scott's demanding mission perameters it would have to be that at least he is a realist as much as an idealist. If both goals cannot be achieved, he won't hesitate to pivot and change their approach. Just which way he might choose to pivot is a little more of a mystery though. The X-Men do exist to do both afterall -- to protect mutants from humanity, but also humanity from mutant threats. It is never an easy position to be.

Or maybe he will throw it out to them to make the hard call? To see where they believe the X-Men's primary obligation lies? It doesn't seem beyond him.

"I don't know that they can get a whole lot angrier," Scott says with a quick nod in Bobby's direction. "Maybe we can talk them down, but the ice wall is a better way to keep 'em separated and give them a chance to cool down." Did Scott just make a pun? Surely it was accidental. "It will also be considerably easier on M's uniform. And skin," he adds drily.

Walking down that street, destruction lining the road to either side with tree's literally ripped from the gorund or crushed flat, Cyclops holds a finger to his ear as he listens to the report from back at the mansion. Nodding at whatever he hears, he switches to the local comm units. "Alright, Cerebro confirms that the mutant presence is in that ruins of that house. Approach with caution. The power levels are still spiking considerably."

Though really, just a quick look around the street should be enough to give anyone pause.

Back in front of the ruins of the house, no matter how justified, Tabitha's outburst is not earning her any friends and those guns come up, now aimmed towards the blonde mutant. "Look girly, I don't care if you are a damned gene-joke or not, you take that tone with me again and I'll..." the apparently leader -- a burly man with dark hair and a deer hunter's cap one begins, just as Monet makes her appearance. "God damn, another one," he mutters, as some of those rifle ends swing towards M.

From inside the house that voice cracks again, a sob heard. "It was an accident!" the voice shouts -- a teenaged male by the sounds of things. "I didn't mean to! And now they're dead! Just like you'll be if you come anywhere near me!" Those words, which first might have sounded like a threat now sound like a warning.

And sure enough, standing there on the front lawn Boom-Boom might feel a faint tremor, might see the front porch begin to shake from some unseen force. For just a second there is even the sense of the ground falling away from beneath her, her equilibrium going crazy.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Everything's going to shake along, and Monet St. Croix would get dizzy for a moment before going to float up in the air a litlte more. She's rapidly darting on down to take stock of the individual as best she can from her position. <<Their shaking is consisetnt with what I might presume to be some sort of concussion based abilities. Potent ones if they're causing this much damage from a distance. Concussive based powers would also explain the craters.>> This is sent over the comms even as Monet would evaluate over and then close her eyes.

Considering how to best go about this before deciding.. <<Robert, please help stabilize the area to prevent further damage. Tabitha, it is a teenage male that is in a state of terror. You are probably in the best position to approach htem and help calm them down>> And Tabitha's powers hopefully would give her a better handle if she had to take some blows herself.

<<Theoretically if we calm him down some and help get him out of shock his powers will cease. As a backup the Professor can render him unconscious telepathically.>> An emergency thing, but if push came to shove the simplest way to deal with things and prevent more damage and without injuring them. If they couldn't stop the boy from being terrified..

The man would point the gun up and over in the air at Monet, and she would just glance down at the man, "Be quiet, the adults are talking now. If you're not going to be useful then please just get out of the way and go back to wherever you came from." Glancing down at the gun. "And the safety's on that, you don't have a round chambered, and the clip is shoved in and not properly latched. If you try and fire that you're going to do something that will snap your wrist when the gun jams if you try and force it to shoot."

Tabitha Smith has posed:
The messing with her sense of balance gets Tabby almost throwing up on the spot and she does look pretty queezy. "Assholes. Put the the damn iron down. You're making this worse! I don't particularly wanna end up dead and you shitbags don't either so just clear the fuck off and let a fucking profressional help this kid!" she yells again.

The dry heave is swallows and maybe it wasn't that dry so she is really going to need a breath mind. But undetermined to try and calm this kid down.

"Buddy, I know you're scared right. I kinda am too and what's say we take a deep breath and steady ourselves. You got a name kid?" she yells out throughbthe shaking makint Tabitha wobble unsteadily. "You hungry? I got some really good chocolate bars. None of that protein energy crap everyone says I should eat. Just good old tooth rotting sugar!" she offers and pulls out a decent sized snickers bar and waves it where hopefully the boy can see.

"I know I could eat, but you gonna have to relax a bit and well. Let me in. Last thing I will do is hurt you. You've had enough of that crap!" she calls out. "Plus right now my throwing arm is off. I throw like a girl with all this shaking." she says and mimics that motion.

Bobby Drake has posed:
First things first - protect the X-Men and the newly awakened mutant. Bobby ices up, and then of course remembers that he cannot - but nonetheless he hops out and starts in on his ice sled, scooting forward and erecting a tall, completely clear wall of ice between the angry townsfolk and the mutants. One quick run to establish that perimeter, and then he drifts off, looking around and using ice to at least temporarily support the structures that are showing signs of weakness. Once that has been done, he pauses, keeping up a perch with some elevation to keep an eye on the scene. Waiting for the next bit of help he can offer. He remains above and in front of the wall.

Scott Summers has posed:
If Cyclops has a contrary opinion he certainly does not venture to offer it, listening to Monet's mental suggestions with that same inscrutable expression. But he does not contermand any of her suggestions. That alone suggests that he finds them valid. Afterall, this is not the Danger Room. The field is a different animal and even Scott, as ruthlessly pragmatic as he can be, is not likely to endanger any of them, or the bystanders by allowing them to make their own mistakes in this sort of situation.

The stakes are just too high.

The man that M mocks does indeed react just as intended, taking an uncertain step back and shifting the aim of his rifle as he looks to see if he has indeed slipped the safety back on. It seems like the notion that he might not be able to fire on the mutant threat has him a little unsettled. And those that seem to look to him as their leader hesitate as well.

Hesitate long enough that Bobby is there with that ice wall, sealing off the ruins of the house where the traumatized young mutant cowers. Sealing off Tabby and Monet from reprisal. That comes almost immediately. "It was a mutie trick!" the man belows, those dozen or so weapons unloaded at once. Straight into that wall of ice. It might chip, it might crack, but it holds up just fine against the weapons, giving them all a little time to act.

"I think you might want to join us on the safe side of your wall Bobby," Scott says drily as he finally arrives on the scene, reaching the house at last. Moving to stand in front of the gunfire he turns that stern, unflinching visage towards the furious towns people. "Calm down," he says flatly, only lifting his voice to try and be heard over the gunfire that starts to sputter out.

It is an interesting supposition by M, in regards to the power that they are dealing with. But the greater concern at the moment is that they're about to see it in action at all. "No, no, no," comes the young man's voice from inside the ruins of the house. "Just get away from me. Get away!" he screams.

And as he does so it is as if everything in that 10 foot circular space is plucked from the ground and hurled upward with tremendous force. The roof of the porch rips free and the steps leading up to it rattle for a moment before both nails and boards tug free. The bushes it the little garden out front are ripped right out the ground and the bike that lays sprawled in the grass goes to.

And so does Tabby. Like the other debris, the blonde mutant suddenly finds herslef flung upwards as if gravity has abruptly reversed, soaring a good fifty feet into the air in an instant.

Of course, that's when gravity changes again, reasserting itself. And Tabitha begins to fall...

Monet St. Croix has posed:
The man performs exactly as M expected him to. Right in time for the crowd to suddenly freak out over at the actions of Bobby. Not the best timing here but a reasonable inclination as it was inevitable. Thoughts on going to disarm the men are forgotten as that next slam of energy would send things -flying- with shockwaves!

Given the disruption in sensation and focus as she would muse <<Definitely kinetic or concussion based in nature. Energy generated over approximately three meters, omnidirectional>> She would evlauate over in a fascinated sort of manner as things would just be yanked -up- and hurled far along! The men firing are now her concern though even as they're blasting along at the wall. Tabitha.. she gets a sense that the girl is going to do something so she leaves her to it.

<<Bobby, please help me neutralize the assailants before they prove a bigger threat to themselves. Can you freeze their weapons to render htem useless? They may take better to that than my going in and slamming them or you immobilizing them>> M's at least -trying- here to not escalate the situation!

She goes to arrogantly float up and over the wall, arms in front of her. "You're putting youreslves at risk here. You're firing along at nothing at all. You're likelier to clip on eanother with your own shots than you are to hit a target. So all of you stand down before you start blasting bits off one another from shrapnel." Yes, this makes her a target. But it also hopefully if need be gives Bobby a chance to make sure they can't use their guns on anything else.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
That is a lot of height to fall for Tabby and on the way up there's a very loud and distantly growing "Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit!". And <<Don't catch me!>> she thinks loud to Monet and hopefully to Bobby as well. "This is gonna hurt!" she says and while plummeting starts charging a bomb.

Racist gunmen are probably crapping there pants and Tabitha probably would but she takes personal hygeine very seriously. She went before they flew to Michigan. So that leaves her with a cleaner conscience all around.

As she nears the ground, the blonde woman tucks and aims herself and throws out a blast of plasma, just before she impacts, it's a hefty stream and digs a pretty big furrow in the ground but it does arrest her downward momentup by shifting it horizontally.

Into and through the wall of the house the scare boy that tried to yeet her is holding up. And skidding to a halt the very battered, bruised and bloodied blonde rolls on her back and holds out a hand.

The promised Snickers bar in her fingers. "Hi, if you want you can call me Tabby!" shhe says with a very beat up but playful giggle. "Can't hurt or kill me!" she states. "It might be a little melty now though!" she warns. Ugh, sticky.

Bobby Drake has posed:
Lingering up on his shelf, Bobby continues to keep an eye on the threats posed by the angry crowd. He glances over as Monet comes up, and nods. "Sure." He focuses on their weapons, and they all slowly ice over, rendering them useless. For the moment, at least. They will dethaw. He would not want to be known as the mutant who took their guns away.

He glances back towards the house, and then towards the crowd again. "Please, friends...let us handle this. This is a very confusing time for him, and none of this was done intentionally."

Scott Summers has posed:
What goes up must come down, right? And Tabitha is certainly doing that, at a rather rapid rate too. But it would seem that her mental request does indeed make it through, as the rest of the team let her get herself out of the dangerous situation. Though when they see exactly what she has in mind they may regret it.

Or just question her sanity.

Is it better to be lucky or good? Or do you need a little luck on one's side to be good? Either way, it would assume Tabby has both going for her, at least at the moment as the blast does indeed arrest her momentum enough so that she is thrown into the shattered remains of the house -- a little more shattered now with pieces of the porch raining down all over the front lawn -- she does not break anything, even if the landing might be a little on the rough side.

There, huddled in the corner of what's left of the living room, a teen with dark hair -- bangs long enough to hand out in front of his eyes -- huddles beside the couch on one side and the wall on the other. His knees are pulled up to his chest and he rocks back and forth, his cheeks tear-stained and his eyes wide and full of terror. They rest, unblinking, on the section of the hosue, that ten-foot circle that has been completely and utterly crushed flat.

Should Tabby follow that gaze, a rather gruesome sight will greet her. Poking out of that circle of death is the hand and forearm of someone who was quite plainly crushed beneath two stories of house that has been squished flat. That arm though, still outstretched, reaching towards the teen appealingly before it simply disappears into that compressed wreckage.

"No, no, no, I told you to stay away," he moans, disregarding the offer of chocolate as those eyes squeeze shut.

The ice wall has eased the threat for the moment, has separated the local mutant haters from the traumatized young man inside. And themselves of course. Not getting shot on the job is always a plus. Monet's lecture is prefectly logical of course, quite reasonable even -- at least for her -- but the leader of the cretins feature's only grow redder and redder with anger. "We don't need you outsiders coming here and lecturing us in our own home," he begins.

Guns are swung up towards Monet once more but before anyone can fire Bobby is there, that sudden frost making the weapons uncomfortable to hold -- and likely useless to fire, at least for the next little bit. "What the..." the men start, some dropping their weapons, though others continue to cling.

Then everyone has something else to worry about as their is a tingle in the air, the feel of the local gravity going screwy again. This time nothing is lifted, nothing is thrown. Instead it is like the fist of god slaming down into earth in a perfect ten foot circle. A circle that catches both a section of Bobby's wall and the local fear brigade's truck, in an instant pounding them down into the ground, crushed beyond recogniton.

The gunmen go scattering, diving away -- fortunately none of them caught in the energy discharge -- and at least half of them keep right on running, their hatred for mutants meeting it's match in the imminent possibility for death. But the others -- after a moment of stunned silence -- surge forward towards that now open gap in the wall, those guns now wielded like clubs. "They're in league with the freak! Kill 'em all, before they squash one of our houses," that blustery big man says, racing towards Scott and Bobby.

"Sam, I think it's time for the reinforcements," Scott says calmly over the comm as he faces down the unrushing mob without so much as a change in expression.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
There's a spasm in the air as the child rapidly shows Monet's initial calculations off once again with the raw power going off of them. Even in the air Monet is slammed along as she would grunt. <<The provocateurs are at least fleeing>> At this point, she's leaning more towards the backup suggestions he made of having hte professor put him to sleep. She's dizzy from the slam an dcan't make an immediate move to intercept the charging men.
    Instead she's zooming over towards the fire truck to evaluate if it was at risk of blowing up or not from the sudden flattening! Presumimng it wasn't, she would go to quickly rejoin the others. If it was she would mvoe to try and focus on dealing with that!

Samuel Guthrie has posed:
Sam Guthrie was waiting back for the call in. At the radio chatter he has been tempted to come in, but he waits. When he gets the word to come, he steps outside, and puts his goggles on and blasts towards the group. Cannonball comes in at speed, and full blast field roar. He will come in over the horizon, and at first buzzes the men. Cannonball will come close enough he could slap the men, but this first pass is just to try to scatter them, and get their attention on him.

Bobby Drake has posed:
Moving over to stand next to Scott, Bobby is poised and ready for whatever action is required. "Just give the word, Cyke, and I can bury 'em in a snow drift." His fingers wiggle down by his side as he stretches out a bit. Perhaps bracing himself since he is still fleshy, and therefore more vulnerable than he is used to.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
Tabby rolls herself very tiredly onto her hands and knees and looks back to the wreckage buring the poor soul crushed. "Hey, hey. It's alright!" she does her best to sooth the boy and crawl to the boy's corner. Then slump down to sit side on to the boy.

"Loook, I'm okay. See!" she reassures and roams her hands in a gesturuing all. "I get banged up like this for funsies like all the time!" she states and smiles. her glasses are gone after the yeeting up down left and right so the boy can see her blue eyes directly.

"You know, my friends are outside making sure all those racisst cockbags are gone. But you can't really stay here you know. They'll just come back and this will all happen again." she tiredly explains but keeps her voice as pleasant as possible aside from the odd groan of sore muscles.

"We're the X-men, so we kinda have a place where you can learn how to dial your powers in. And you can't hurt anyone. Can't promise you won't get hurt." She's a walking case in point. "But I can guarantee it won't be like malicious or evil. And we can help you deal with the loss. And if you'll have us. Even succeed as family. Cute kid like you is gonna be popular there!" she states and winks.

Scott Summers has posed:
It is a fine line of course. The half-dozen figures who have stayed, who are even now charing the X-Men to try and get passed them, to try and get to the ruined remains of that house on what was surely once a nice, quiet streetm to do who knows what to that traumatized teen, well, they're not exactly a huge threat any longer, not with their guns iced over.

But the are beligerent, ignorant and have likely made this situation so much worse then it had to be. And since they don't want to listen to words, well, maybe something a little sterner is called for. A love tap.

Of course there are love taps and then there are mutant love taps.

There are not very many people foolish enough to stand in the way when Cannonball is coming through, and this lot proves no different, immediately starting to scatter as he starts to scream by. If the intention was to separate them and give them something to focus on besides Scott and Bobby? Mission accomplished.

"Good work. Keep them off balance," Scott murmurs over the comm before glancing towards Bobby with a nod. "I think I can help a little," he says an instant before that red concussive blast leaps from his eyes, tearing into the ground in front of them. Grass and soil goes flying and in moments Cyclops has carved a nice, deep ditch right in front of them. "Now, if you could provide a little ice and snow..." he suggests, adding a little to the snow bank notion.

Monet will find that the truck has been well and truly crushed, most of it caught within that ten foot diameter and squished utterly flat, like a giant disc. There is a trickle of gasoline running out of the mess however. And a downed powerline -- also caught in the blast -- sparks ominously nearby.

Within that ruined shell of a house, the teenaged boy has almost screamed himself hoarse. But some of Tabitha's words seem to start getting through to him and he slowly opens up his eyes, those orbs still horrified, though now they look anywhere by that entreating, outstretched arm. A woman's arm. His mother's arm. "I'm a monster," he whispers under his breath, ragged and devestated.

But for the moment at least those random shifts in gravity outside seem to stop.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would look over at the power line <<Robert, the area needs sealed immediately if you can freeze it. There is heavy gasoline leakage. If it detonates we're likely to lose whatever semblance of control we have to deescalate the situation>> Because a huge boom of fire is going to end everything.

Then M is going to charge on in and flying. She's moving to try and go to grab the dropping power lines if at all posible as fast as she can. She has to stop any risk of sparks that could fall before they hit the gasoline on the ground before Bobby can solidify everything to minimize risk.

So that means barreling in at subsonic speed, trying to quickly evaluate and locate every wire on it that's loose and all power cables to try and tug them together as best she can to prevent htem falling. She just needs to hopefully hold it for a few seconds until Bobby can ice it up..

Tabitha Smith has posed:
Tabby looks back to where the kids mother. Assuming that t's his mother seeing the distress the kid is clearly in. Then to the kid again. "It'll be okay. This..." she looks back to poor mom and the the boy. "It sucks. I've been where you are. Feeling powerless and powerful at the same time when people you care about are taken." Genosha sucked all kinds of ass for her.

"But you can't stay here. It'll just mess you up. You're not a monster, you're just a kid that's been shoved into a whole shitshow. We can give you a new home. Friends will come with that. Family too. Mine were assholes too but then I met the X-Men. Way more awesome." she reassures.

While the racket outside is going on Tabby just stays focuses on making sure the kid that made the mess feels safe. <<Lemme know what it's safe out there.>> she thinks out to the others while watching the mop haired boy. "Not a monster! It's okay to be scared. But we can help." she says and offers her hands as much to help him. And herself up. As she is a hug, the kid could really do with one.

"Now also. Still don't know your name sweetie. Or will I get to give you a cool superhero codename instead of letting you pick one. Gotta be better than Boom-Boom after all!" she offers and smiles brightly.

Samuel Guthrie has posed:
Sam Guthrie will keep diving booming them for a moment, and then will move to hover in front of them. He crosses his arms letting them fling or shoot what ever at him, counting on his field to protect him. He looks to them, and in a steel to his voice, he looks to them "Ya'll get out of here, and don't come back. Your not going to hurt anyone in that house, and you keep it up, Ah am going to pick you up and drop you in the nearest lake to cool you down." He keeps steady, actually hoping they try to hit him and see that they can not, which he hopes will make them think better of staying.

Scott Summers has posed:
Of course he will hardly be the first mutant filled with self-loathing. For some the revelation would be traumatic under even the best of circumstances -- nevermind for one that has very likely just killed his parents... and several other people... by accident. No one would be right after that, not for a good, long time.

Still, Tabitha does seem to be getting through to him and avoiding looking towards where half the house has been crushed seems to be helping as well. The distraction is keeping him from falling in terror and despair again and that in turn seems to be keeping the gravitic surges at bay as well. "Jason. It's Jason," he says slowly, reaching for those offered hands tentatively.

Definitely no room for missteps here.

Things are not completely dealt with outside, but they are rapidly reaching that point. As ignorant as they might be, the beligerent towns people have had a tramatic day of their own. And it would seem that having a human Cannonball divebombing them relentlessly is the straw that broke the camel's back. Four of then men take off running -- more scrambling really as they try to stay low to the ground, abandonning their weapons as they toss the occasional glance back over their shoulders, keeping an eye out for Sam should he pursue.

The other two? Well, in the confusion they have the misfortune of stepping onto that ice laid down by Bobby, sliding into that trench before being buried in a blast of snow. They'll be digging themselves out for a bit.

And then, of course there is Monet, taking advantage of that limited invulnerability to gather up the downed powerlines nearbym griupping them together as electricity assails her. But fortunately not for long as Bobby knows what to do. Danger averted.

"Sitatuation is under control. Bring him out Boom-Boom," Cyclops murmurs over the comm, gaze sweeping over the swatch of destruction left in the neighborhood. "Lets hope that we can keep him from using his powers until we get back to the mansion," he adds.

Because one of those gravity bursts while they're flying? Yeah, that probably wouldn't be fun.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would keep the wires up in the air until the gasoline would be frozen over and there would be no further risks of a fire. Then she would go to carefully tie the wires over the top of the power pole to hold them in place until a better alternative could come along. She's sizzled adn in pain but better that than a fire or anyone else being blasted for it. It hurt but it was worth it. She'll have to of course charge the pedicure/manicure/facial/spa treatment over to the Mansion's expense account.

<<Can we leave? This has done -horrid- things to my outfit. It's -singed- it. Do you know how epxneisve this was!? I'm going to be in mourning>> She spekas over the comm while mostly contemplating murder later on. But.. The worst seems to be over presuming they can get the child back and safe.

Samuel Guthrie has posed:
Sam Guthrie looks over and at the carnage and destruction, and into his com he will ask. "Want to bundle the kid up, and me fly him back? Ah can keep him out of range of anything he can hurt but me, and my field should protect us from any unplanned landings."

Tabitha Smith has posed:
"Hi Jason. It's me Tabitha!" she says and lets the boy take her hands while she wobbles very tiredly on her feet, There's a nice solid cut down her side and hip where wall and house impeded her entrance but she can at least move. Not the first wall she's been through in the last month.

With a look outside as ger earpeice manages to survive being with Tabitha then a smile to Jason once more shhe gives the boy the hug he needs with a big warm squish. "I'm thinking we should go with Gravitator for your Codename. I'm not bad at codenames. I come up with them all the time." Does not mean she is actually good at it!

"It's clear outside, so hown about I introduce you to more X-men before we get out of here. Don't mind the grumpy girl. She's actually a sweetie when you get to know her." she says and makes sure it's over the comms as well.

That's when she lets the hug go and gestures for Jason to come outside with her and they can sort out how the kid wants to fly to his new home.

Scott Summers has posed:
Falling in with Bobby, Cyclops continues to let his gaze swivvel about the scene, a watchful eye kept out for any further threats that might present themselves. This sort of thing is always an ugly situation and ugly situations rarely resolve themselves very well. There are people dead who shouldn't be, there are hate-filled men out there who have been given more cause to hate.

It is an imperfect ending to a mission that probably could not have ended any other way -- unless it was in even deeper tragedy. So here they are. Mission accomplished.

"We're moving out. Keep an eye out for any more beligerent locales but I think we've likely run them off," Scott says to Monet, turning his attention towards the door, waiting for Tabitha to escort their traumatized mutant out. "Lets keep that as plan B Sam. I'm not sure how well he'd react to that sort of thing. But if it looks like he's going to go off again in the Blackbird grab him and get out," he says quietly.

Scott might not want to give him anything else to be afraid of -- but he'd rather not get knocked out of midair either.

Inside, Jason sort of limply embraces Tabitha, eyes hollow and distant. Numb. But right now numb might be the best that can be hoped for. "Okay," he says simply, letting himself be led.

As soon as the pair emerge from the house, Scott nods to the others. "Okay, move out," he instructs, letting Sam and Monet take the lead -- go go airborn scouts -- while he falls in behind the rest, keeping an eye on their rear.

And so all that awaits them now is a short flight home. And probably a lot of therapy for their newest charge at the Xavier Institute.

Samuel Guthrie has posed:
Sam Guthrie will nod to Scott, and Bobby, and then looking over to Tabby and see her scraped up, he will nod to her not giving her grief in front of the kid, even if it is his first gut reaction. He launches back up into the air, heading to scout the way the guys went to make sure, they aint doubling back or anything dumb like that. "Looks clear this way." He says over the com.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
The flight back still has Tabby in big sister mode. Just shy of mom mode because there's not that many years between her and Jason. The snickers is finally given and eaten with a promise of decent pizza in the near future. The kids even swaddled up in blankets for the trip. "Get some rest Gravitator. New home and new life awaits!" she says warmly in a soft voice and stays beside him the whole trip. She might also be kind of dozey and sleepy herself after that rough landing that left her torn and banged up.

But it wouldn't be a Tabby mission if she wasn't