15298/The Path of Progress -- A Sublime Time Pt. III

The Path of Progress -- A Sublime Time Pt. III
Date of Scene:	22 July 2023
Location:	Transhumanist Research Center -- Outskirts of Gotham City
Synopsis:	Cable and his team finally come face to face with John Sublime -- after a fashion -- and the trap is sprung. But just who is trapping who?
Cast of Characters:	Cable, Monet St. Croix, Wade Wilson, Tabitha Smith, Sally Pride

---

Cable has posed:
It has been a long chase, but the end is finally in sight. Justice for all those mutants kidnapped -- and for those slaughtered for their various bodyparts is finally at hand. And it can't come quickly enough.

The mission so far has taken them to some pretty crappy places. Madripoor. An all but deserted island in the southern Indian Ocean. An Eastern European shithole. Back to Manhatten. But you know things are going straight in the toliet when you arrive in New Jersey.

Specifically the team is arriving at the Transhumanist research compound just a dozen or so miles outside of Gotham City. Because where else would the lowest of the low be found? However, ase they are arriving at the specific invitation of one of the leaders of the movement, John Sublime, their undercover infiltration of the Sublime Pharmaceutical corporation apparently successful enough that it garnered them an invitation to finally meet the man himself, all under the cover of providing him a substantial investment in cash and high-tech cybernetic technology. Thank you Greymalkin.

It does mean however that the normal approach of simply blowing the hell out of the compound is out -- for the moment -- and while Cable might prefer a more direct infiltration via storming the gates or by bodysliding in, that really wouldn't go so well with the undercover thing.

So instead of the usual van, or rundown building to go over things right before the mission, the team finds themselves in the back of a very spacious limo as it pulls up to the gates of the research compound.

His normal tactical outfit with armor and pouches and guns -- so many pouches and guns -- has been put aside again and once more Cable finds himself dressed in an expensive blacksuit with that handy briefcase packed full of assorted goodies resting across his lap for the moment. The intimidation factor might not be as high, but should everything go well they should be able to walk right past security and finally meet the object of their long search.

Of course there might be a few wildcards in the deck this time.

"So remember, we keep cover iintact until we've met Sublime and determined if there are any mutants on premises that need to be rescued," he says quietly. Staring at Wade the entire time. speaking slowly and deliberately. Perhaps like his words are primarily meant for him.

"We're less concerned about collateral damage this time. Anyone working here probably knows what the score is," Cable adds flatly, his words, his tone turning cold. "So once we know the score, once we have the target in our sights, all bets are off."

Then maybe he can get out of this damn monkey suit and start doing things the way they should be done. Nice and direct.

With an excessive number of explosions.

As the security at the gate finishes questioning the driver upfront -- Sally having volunteered for the job -- the limo starts to slowly roll forward towards the compound entrance.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
THe group goes to arrive and Monet goes to cock her head as they drive up. "Understood. Next time, Mister Summers? Can you take off your shoulder pads before we get in the vehicle? THey take up most o fthe space and I have to hunch over to be able to sit. And why can't you stow your weapons on the front of the car like most Americans do?" Apparently M has some very, very strange ideas about Americans that.. Might be completely correct.

She moves to start scanning. "Tabitha, do you wish to handle mental communication or should I?" She was rather sure that it was best to leave Cable's power for combat - he was far above her and Tabitha so why make him multi-task when he had to when it could be thrown around at their threat?

She was still wary in the craomped confines of the limo. They still didn't know a lot about Mister Sublime. Other than he was not a type of Mountain Dew.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    In the limo, those words, those eyes. They can only belong to Cable. And they're meant only for Wade really. At least that is how he'd imagine it. 'So remember, we keep cover intact until we've met Sublime...'
    And as those words are spoken, Wade's head is bobbing along as if he were listening, just nodding a bit in perfectly timed rhythmic pulses, those white eyelets settled heavily on the dimension hopping hero. Under the mask it can almost be made out that the Pool of Dead is biting his lower lip. Then he lifts a hand and out of the ear of the mask pops an earbud, the tinny hiss of some music is heard.

<< Who the fuck is that? >>

<< He's a man out of time. >>

<< Who the fuck is that? >>

<< He likes to fight criiiime. >>

    Then Wade's voice is heard, "Sorry, what was that? No wait, I gottit. Remember from earlier. I chill until the chilling is done. Get in. Teleporty kerpow kershoot. Roger roger." Deadpool snap points at Cable, but then he gives a sidelong scowl glare at Monet for some particular reason. He does not elaborate.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
Tabby did kind of pout at the idea of not getting to drive the limo. But still having the cover of Mister Summers' personal assistant. Close fitting suit jacket in charcoal and silver pinstripes over a blouse in pink. The mid thigh pencil skirt matching the jacket while ankle boots with a few inches of heel make her look taller than usual. Hair in a loose bun pinned up with wooden chopsticks never meant for Chinese takeout. Even her glasses while tinted yellow are small oval rims in stainless steal.

Monet gets a grin. <<Both of us, should help extend our range and stuff. Earpieces as like back up and stuff.>> she doesn't even want to know what they'd have to harvest from her to get at her powers. <<Remember when they used to just use MGH and harvest our precious bodily fluids! You can only skin a sheep once.>> she tries to make light of what could happen to her if she was captured.

Sally Pride has posed:
Sally Pride was all for the direct approach, but this was one of the times when they had to be subtle to get close enough to the intended targets to engage in the direct method.

At least she felt more at home being behind the wheel, even if the limo was fancier than anything she could really hope to get her paws on outside of a situation like this. Her being a skilled driver was one less person to be a loose end in their plan, and went along with their cover-up. A lot of big businessmen liked to stack jobs on reliable people so no one would think odd of the chauffer also being a bodyguard. And utilizing 'modifications' to be better at those jobs.

Needless to say she was listening to the explainations and planning the back, but not commenting as her attention was of course on the road ahead as they neared the location they were invited to.

Cable has posed:
No sooner has the limo pulled up to the entrance then a familiar face can be seen through the tinted glass, rushing forward to get the rear door, the features of Davis Atkins, John Sublime's executive assistant beaming brightly. As if they were all the best of friends.

Chances are he won't be quite so happy by the end of hte day. It's surprising just how often meeting them has that effect on people.

"Mr. Summers," the young man says brightly as he opens that door in his eagerness, stepping aside to let them exit the limo. "I'm so pleased that you could make it out here today. Once again Mr. Sublime sends his apologies that he could not meet you at our headquarters last time but I'm sure you know how it is," he says, practically tripping over his words. Kinda of like a puppy, if they could talk at least. "But at least this way you can get a glimpse at the heart of our operation. See how your money and your generation contribution of technology will be put to good use to further the Transhumanist movement and improve the lives of so many."

One gets the feeling that the young Mr. Atkins has probably practiced that spiel in the bathroom mirror a time or two. It might go over a little better with a different audience.

Cable slides out of the vehicle, offering the man a very fractional smile and quickly moving aside so that the others can join him, setting his briefcase down for just a moment to adjust his suit jacket, doing up a pair of buttons there before retrieving that case. "Thank you," he says conversationally, his gaze already turning towards the front door, no doubt scanning the compound with that cybernetic eye. "I expect that today will be the proper summation of a long journey for us all," he adds.

Probably not the one that Mr. Atkins is expecting though.

As soon as everyone is gathered, they're off, the eager Davis Atkins leadign the way through double doors that slide open for them and into a somewhat clinical lobby, all stark and clean, feeling very much like a hospital more than a corporate facility. Plainly business guests are not regularly hosted here.

<< M, scan the compound for any mutant presence. You know what to look for by now. I imagine they're being kept comatosed here as well. Cheaper then investing in power dampners. Fortunatelyt for us. Thest rest of you, eyes open. >>

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would go to close her eyes over and nod <<Of course, Mister Summers.>> The presence of Wade.. At least guarantees that they'll have a distraction when things start. <<All of this technology.. All of it such a waste>> She makes a mental point of prioritizing which bits to smash over againa s she moves to clench her fists together.

As the group goes along she would glance at Mister Atkins and go to try to lightly nudge him on to continue his talk. She's attempting to if she can ge thim in more of a hypnotic state. Not suggestable, but just going on autopilot. He's close enough to it already that it hopefully works. Just to have him not really caring or noticing what's going on,j ust giong through his routine. he has it memorizeda nd he could do it while he slept.

So easy then to just monologue on while staying over in place and gibbering. Hopefully this gives them just a litlte more room to advance without having to handle him that much - she can always puppet the intern if they need a distraction.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    Behind the tinted glass, Wade already has a lovely looking pistol held loose in one hand and angled just a little toward Mr. Atkin's forehead though out of view. He says softly, his voice barely carrying just a few quiet syllables of, 'Pew. Pewpew. Pewpewpew.' Though at a glance to Cable he does lower the weapon and flicks the safety on. See. Helping.
    Then the crew start to get out, he lifts a hand. A wave here, an upnod there, for Monet she gets a double thumbs up which once her back is turned she gets the double deuce instaed. He remains in the car for now, however. Awaiting the time when his own particular idiom will be of use.
    
On the comms his voice is heard, << Ok guys. I'm here. Ready when you are... >>

<< Wait. We do have comms right? >>

A beat. << Maybe I should have asked first. >>

    Then lonely on those comms he adds, << Oh maybe they're doing that weird telepath party line thing all those Xavier kids do. How do you test that sort of thing? Here I'll try to think something really really hard. Take this, Monet you stinker. >>
    And if people were monitoring Wade's thoughts, there is an abrupt and rather disturbing image.

Sally Pride has posed:
Pull up, park, turn off the ignition. Keep it looking routine. Sally opens the driver's door and gets out, shuts the door, and moving as if going to Nathan's door even though she saw Atkins practically bounding in to do so. So she does so, and then stops, giving only a curt nod to the man as if recognizing he's not a threat. Locks the limo once everyone is out. Keeping up the chauffer/bodyguard routine and nothing more.

<<Don't stray apart,>> she thinks back, having gotten use to the mental equivilent of a commlink thanks to the psionics in the group. <<Who knows what they're hording here, and we don't want to break our cover prematurely.>>

Eyes and ears open... and trying to not gag at Atkins being a squirmy little stoolie. They'll get to the real man behind this soon enough....

Tabitha Smith has posed:
While Monet is looking for anyone that might need an evacuation, Boom-Boom is rolling on scanning for numbers and locations on security and anyone else that might get up in their grills when things go sideways.

Sharing them with the team through the mind link, there's other tidbits of info like camera locations and more layouts of the building so they know their way around. Maps and bluerints only go so far.

<<Yes we still have old school comms Wade. There were psi dampners around last time. This is just quieter and sneaky shit!>> she states and double taps her earpiece mic sending the click sound to everyone else linked in. Otherwise she seems all smiles and perky minion assistant to the future displaced soldier running the show.

Cable has posed:
There is a pretty good chance that Cable does indeed notice the fact that should he wish it, Mr. Atkins would be dead at Wade's hands. Just as he no doubt gets a very vivid image of just what the man thinks of Monet as well. Does he smile? Certainly not. This is serious business. And really, given how things could go Deadpool is practically being a saint. So far.

It's a sliding scale.

Perhaps it is overkill, having backup waiting for them back in the car. Just in case. But if this Sublime character is really responsibile for some of the atrocities that they have seen, he is far more dangerous then his standing as a coporate bigwig and self-improvement guru would suggest. Having an ace in the hole -- even one like Deadpool -- just might pay dividends.

So the soldier from the future follows after the ever enthusiastic Davis as he leads them through that initial entrance way, pausing by the side door long enough to punch in a quick code on the keypad there and swipe his card -- the code likely lifted from his thoughts by Tabitha before he even enters it -- and then they are in a long, stark passage, painted in that hospiral off-white that is so popular.

As Monet sweeps the compound for that familair psychic impression of drugged mutants, it will not take her long to find that there are several in residence. Like those sensed on that island in the Indian Ocean and in Eastern Europe, they are clearly being kept sedated.

And they are close. Very close. Clearly their path is taking them right through the medical wing.

Davis Atkins has lost none of that enthusiasm, and whether it is because of those psychic nudges, or the fact that he just can't help himself regardless, he moves his hands in an animated fashion as he backpeddles through the hall. "So, as I'm sure you have gathered this is our primary facility where we work out just how certain abilities can be transferred from our mutant doaners into our long waiting list of volunteers who are just waiting to take those first steps of self-improvement," he says with that beaming smile, making it all sound so nice. So clean and sterile.

Of course they have seen the aftermath, just what's left of those mutant 'doaners'.

"And of course with your generous donation of cybernetic technology we will be able to expand the frontiers of our self-improvement programs even further. Mr. Sublime thought you might want to get a first hand glimpse and just what our facilities boast, so we are just taking a quick detour," Atkins explains as he approaches a heavy vault-like door. "This part of the facility is hermetically sealed. Just for safety's sake," he explains, turning to that door. Again the keycard fob is swiped, a code is entered, but this time a sensor at the top of the door emits a green laser light that sweeps over the young Mr. Atkins, no dobut reading a variety of biometric information. Only then does the vault door slide open with a quiet hiss, revealling the waiting clean room beyond.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Well now, this is interesting. She would cock her head to the side adn glance in the direction of Cable, pondering for a moment.. <<This is a violation of normal clean room protocols. We should be going through a decontaminaion process first before we enter.>> She goes to continue to scan along over and then goes to move to try and scan for more present - there is something up here.

<<Given the rather extensive surveying that it just did of him, and yet the fact someone so low on the corporate totem pole has such significant access to the systems and is violating such a simple thing..>> In other words, they're likely going over into a trap. Given she's not picking up anything from Atkins (he should tyr his own diet) he's likely a patsy in the greater scheme of things. Someone self important, having ajob that they th ink makes a difference and wanting respect. Beneath her. But she's very, very sure as their stooge goes to open up access thatthey're going ot be met by something just beyond the other side. This seems the way things go. She's ready for it, to dart to the side.. Even if powers cut off, she has decent self defense moves. But it's not visible in her form - just in case her read of the situation is wrong. And if there's more to this narrative than she's picking up on as the group gets ready to go on.

The mention ofmutant 'donors' has her shut down part of her face to resist sneering.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    << Cool, cool. I got it. Old school. >>

    Now came the hard part. The waiting as poor Wade is left behind. He tosses the little ear bud onto one of the nearby seats, and leeeeans over to pop open one of the storage compartments of the limo. The little button goes click, and the compartment opens slooowly and silently, arms swinging out from the middle console and displaying a bevy of beverages as well as a lovely display of ice that has the slightest hint of a haze over it.
    "Nice," Wade murmurs as he starts to look over the bottles as he lifts a clear one with black lettering, his eyebrows rising behind that mask. "Harridan Vodka. If only Nat was here. I could ask her if this was good vodka. And then I could tell her that it was a trick question, there is no good vodka. And then she'd start shooting at me, and I'd comment about how the name of the liquor is fitting for her. And we'd laugh and laugh. Such lovely laughter. Alas, she is not here."
    He pulls on the top of the vodka bottle, twisting it a few times until the decorative plastic/pseudo-wax seal is broken. He hums to himself pleasantly, 'Yah-da-dee-da-deeeee.'
    He takes one of the lovely cotton napkins from the center console and tilts the bottle over it, pouring the vodka nicely and liberally. Then he starts to tuck the napkin into the neck of the bottle.
    And, of course, he's doing this all while he has the comms open.
    After a bit of time as the heroes are led along by Atkins, they'll hear Wade again, albeit in brief as he asks, << Can you guys hear that nerd ok? To me he sounds all Charlie-Brown-Adulty. I got these ear buds off of Temu and I must say I am not liking the quality. >>

Sally Pride has posed:
A bio-scanner on top of the keycards and passcodes. This was definitely getting into the Big Deal(tm) stuff.

And for a brief moment to be glad they have Atkins for it to scan, they probably couldn't of schemed (or blasted) their way past that very easily.

Sally maintains that professional outward appearance. But the psionics would be able to feel the mental deep breath she takes, fortifying herself for what they're about to walk into. Because she's pretty certain she is not going to like it.

But until the masquarade is over, she's got to keep her composure.

A brief nod in Monet's direction. They can hope that assessment that something is up on their host's end is just anxiety... but at the same time, they have to be ready for when it's not.

She's been in way too many labs for her liking to not be on edge, even if she is forcing a cold exterior act.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
The benefit of the mind link, no need for pen and paper when at least one person has herself an eidetic memory. That would be Monet, not Tabitha. Boom-Boom is at least clearly not on her first heist-ish rodeo.

That it's possibly a trap isn't lost on Tabitha while she accompanies Cable through the facilities and into that clean room. <<For the same money you probably could have just got some cheap-ass buds from a gas station with half decent audio>> she teases her other part time X-force boss.

It's having to fight her way out of a trap she might have to worry about. <<Hopefully if we have to throw hands, there's no power dampening and just psi at the most. It took forever to find a Van Dyne outlet with a suit that actually fit me with minimal tailoring. On SALE!>> Sure the briefcase might have a very compacted spare uniform but will she even have time to change.

The memorial for the suit will be held soon after.

Cable has posed:
Maybe their cover 'legends' weren't quite as good as Cable anticipated. Perhaps the Sublime Corporate security was a little more capable then they appeared and found the taps placed on their systems during their visit to the corporate headquarters in Manhatten. Maybe that's just why the meeting was truly pushed back, to give their foe enough time to investigate them properly. Who's to say. But Monet is right. It certainly has the feel of walking into a trap.

Good thing they have that wildcard just waiting to be played, huh?

Of course if it is a trap, Atkins certainly does not seem to be in on it as he continues to beam the entire time, stepping into the clean room beyond once the vault door opens. Just as sterile as the rest of the facility, it is dominated by a large video monitor along one side of the wall, though otherwise appearing to be a fairly standard example of the breed.

Except the lack of decontamination facilities to go through before reaching that point. Others might not recogniza the importance of that fact, but they are not exactly your typical VIPs.

Still, sometimes the best one can hope for is to know the trap exists. ANd then just go ahead and spring it anyway. Which is why Cable follows after Sublime's executive assitant, seemingly a little bored, maybe a little impatient, but not visibly expecting this to end in disaster.

Waiting for everyone to join him in the clean room, Davis Atkins only turns to the controls and triggers the door to close after everyone is in, that heavy reinforced door swinging shut, a soft hiss of the air pressure equalizing sounding before the man gives a firm nod. "THere. Okay, so wecan now proceed into the research wing proper," the man says, pressing another button and fobbing that keycard in front of the scanner once more. But this time nothing happens. No little sensor, no beam of green light. Nothing. "Hmmm," Atkins says, trying once more.

To the same lack of results. Definitely a trap.

Instead the large monitor on the wall springs to life and a beaming, middle aged man with dark hair and a dark suit answering the one that Nathan wears appears there, looking a trifle more casual with the top button undone and his hands jammed in his pocket. Behind him are large windows that almost unquestioningly look out on Manhatten, not the fringes of Gotham City. "Afternoon," he says casually. "As I'm sure you're aware by now, I'm John Sublime. I have to say, it is a real pleasure to have you with us," he says.

At this point there is a surge of power to the compound -- one that Cable can almost certainly see with that cybernetic eye -- and others might detect as well just before full on power dampners slam into place. More, there is a quiet hum and the electronic jamming units embedded in the walls abruptly cut off all the commonly used communication frequencies.

Cable has posed:
"Mr. Sublime? What's going on sir? My access card isn't working and..." Atkins starts up before the smiling Sublime cuts him off. "I'm afraid your employment with our little family has been terminated Davis. But I can't tell you how much we appreciate your service. I've told you many times just how much trouble we've had finding the proper source of telepathic and telekinetic mutations and now you have brought us three excellent samples for us to try and solve that little conundrum. I'm just sorry you won't be here to reap the rewards," Sublime says.

Naturally, Cable is not standing on ceremony during all of this. Instead he kneels down onthe floor and flips open that briefcase. Almost immediately a package of animal crackers comes tumbling out and skitters across the floor.

"Damit," Cable mutters. No post-mission snack for him.

The rest of the contents of that briefcase are properly secured though and the case is a whole lot bigger on the inside then the thin, stylish leather exterior would suggest. Yes, he has put together a Briefcase of Holding +2. Rows of weapons, ranging from the discrete -- almost petite -- to what looks to be some of his favored, massive plasma cannons are all neatly lined up there. More importantly, under the circumstances is a small box with a single button on it. Which the future solider promptly presses.

Outside in the waiting limo a similar box will begin to flash, the little red light going off every second or so. Sublime might be able to cut off modern frequencies. But he doesn't have access to future tech like Cable.

Of course, it does require that Wade notice that all contact with the rest of the team has been cut off. One small flaw in the plan, perhaps.

Inside that vault, another soft hiss sounds and a sickly green gas begins to be pumped in through ceiling vents, slowly sinking towards the floor. "I do appreciate you all making time for me today. And I can only promise that none of you will feel a thing. Not even when we dissect you to find out just what makes you tick," Sublime says with that bright, big smile.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would go to call out over to the rest of the group <<Scatter!>> She would go to then take size of Sublime. Going to try and rapidly evaluate who.. Or what.. It was. <<The hell?>> That's sent along hte group, even as she goes to try and look over the walls. no, no,no.. All right. First thing - take out the vents.

She goes to try and grab one bit of equipment and goes to try and slam it down over in the area where the vents were pumping forth. Gas is heavier than air.. So it had to sink. So if she could just slam several of the vents shut and hope to seal them..

Presuming she can, M is going up towards the ceiling to just tyr and rapidly block off as many of the vents as she can, trying to smash, twist, and shove things into them to tyr and hold up the backlog for as long as possible!

<<Tabitha, do remember that while heavy gasses are flammable, so are we and best not to risk the two intermixing while we're in the blast radius>> She goes to coordinate with the group as she tries to keep an eye out - mental and optic, for whatever this narrating freakshow is going to be going on about his ultimate plan.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    << See. I barely even heard Boomer's horrible accent through these ear buds. I'm going to have a stern word with the AI they use for customer service. >>
    Yet as Wade offers that insight into his future plans, he's still going through the alcohol bar in the limo, picking and choosing and enjoying himself somewhat. << By the bye, did you guys know that Psylocke gave me grief about my katanas? She said they were soulless. Can you believe that? She's British. Aren't they required by law to be polite? That was _not_ very polite. She'll be hearing from my solicitor. >>
    It's a casual stream of Wade consciousness as he chats a bit on those comm freqs not noticing that they're... dead. He's still fiddling around and casually working the chamber of his pistol and then ejecting the clip. He takes out a few rounds then a silver-bladed knife slips into his hand as he begins to work the bullets out of the cartridge cases, then pours out the powder.
    Meanwhile a slight flickering flash of red light casts a hint of a haze on Wade's bottle of vodka.

Sally Pride has posed:
Yup. It was a trap.

The surge of power, the dampeners going online, Atkins getting 'liquidated' from his position. Just goes to show how little the big corpos care about your hard work and loyalty.

But this was the sort of situation that it was good to have Sally Pride along with. Being a mutant that was physically tough and, as much as it annoys her to admit it, professionally trained for questionable combat operations.

Even without being a psychic she seems to be on the same wavelength as M on the vents. As they are such large cats people forget that lions are still capable of climbing. But that is exactly what Sally does, going to climb up to get at the vents.

<<Well don't need this anymore,>> she rumbles, pulling off the chauffer hat and shoving it into the mechanism to help jam it shut. <<Not sure if we should be thankful or concerned that he wants you brainiacs in a usable state.>>

Tabitha Smith has posed:
The crackers go to waste and alas as someone that spent way too long homeless she can understand that losing them could be missed. She's still Tabby though. "Ten second rule. Or we get drive through" she's eaten worse things.

At least now she has a chance to change while Cable is tooling up. There's a lot of hopping and jumping as she has to wangle high heels through stretchy bodysuit legs. It's all in pink but it was the first thing she grabbed that could be stashed. And could be pulled up as she switches from suit to suit with the Van Dyne threads,

They'll be mourned.

It's while she's trying to zip up that the gas starts pumping in. "Well that's going to be fun. Umm. Blast radius is like whatever is in front of me." she states and grabs a few choice things. "Heh, no booms but like feeling so lit!" she chuckles while she hefts one of the plasma cannons. On her it looks waaaaaay too big. "Pretty certain what we're huffing isn't flammable." she considers.

"So umm, fire in the hole! Three... two... one!" she might be a little too close to the door but it beats having anyone in blast radius. She might have forgotten her own secondary powers might be off when she pulls that trigger.

Cable has posed:
"I don't understand..." Davis Atkins says, that bright, eager smile slowly fading from his face, giving a little gasp when that greenish gas starts to pump into the sealed chamber. "/Please/ Mr. Sublime! Don't do this to me. I've been nothing but loyal, I swear," the man pleads, dropping to his knees, hands pressed together in front of him as tears start to trickle down his cheeks.

It's kinda embarassing. If they weren't trying to save their own lives right now Cable might even feel bad for the guy.

On that big screen John Sublime slowly shakes his head. "Davis, Davis, Davis. This really is rather unbecoming. Have just a little dignity," the man chimes in that far too cheerful tone, sounding very much like the part-time motivational speaker he also is. At least publically. "This is one of the reasons I decided some time ago that you just weren't U-Man material. I applaud your sycophantic impulses. I like a good 'yes man' as much as the next corporate overlord, but really," he says with a sigh before finally seeming to peer past his former aide towards the rest of them. "Hey, what are you doing there? Don't damage yoruselves. I will be most put out with you if there is not enough of your bodies to salvage," he complains.

Between Monet and Sally's efforts, a number of vents are at least partially blocked, but they seem to run around the entire circumference of the chamber and are made of the same heavy-duty materials of the vault door itself. Still, the flow of that gas -- presumably something to render them unconscious slows to a trickle for the moment though it continues to waft downwards at a slower rate.

For his part, Cable does grab a couple of the weapons, slinging the larger of the two over his shoulder while palming the other in his flesh and blood hand. Then, turning towards the vault door at their back he reaches out with that metal limb, gripping that wheel that serves as an emergency means of opening and closing the door, gritting his teeth as he tries to bring that added strength in that cybernetic limb to bear. Perhaps with his telekinesis at his disposal it might be an easier matter to manage, but where the metal simply gives way beneath his girp, crumpling to a useless mass instead of turning.

"Damnit Wade," he mutters.

Meanwhile in that limo that little blinking light continues to blink, the red glare refracted by that vodka bottle, spilling little shadows over the roof of the vehicle. It's a good reminder. Next time maybe he should include an audible warning as well.

It's a matter of knowing one's audience.

Cable has posed:
Turning back to the rest of the vault, he is just in time to see Tabby raise that too big plasma cannon towards the reinforced door leading deeper into the compound. "Take cover!" he calls out to the other two before diving back for his briefcase, scrambling to pull out a gleaming cylinder ofabout eighteen inches, slamming it down into the floor in front of Boom-Boom as a field of force abruptly springs into shimmering existence, offering some measure of protection from the resulting back-blast.

Then, with some scant protection offered, Cable moves to brace Tabitha. There's a reason he grabbed both one of the small weapons along withe the plasma cannon. Without suitable powers -- like telekinesis to brace one's self -- some of them are just a mite impractical.

Just a mite.

Either way, that plasma discharge tears into the reinforced door and the room is engulfed in a bright blast, the chamber lighting up with near blinding intensity for just an instant, shaking like they're in bowling ball being rolled down the lane before settling. The recoil alone is a hell of a thing, though at least Tabby is being braced. Even then it likely shoves both her and Cable back several inches, and the resulting blow back is mostly caught be the improvised force field, though the cylinder sparks and hisses before giving a little explosion, overloaded by the effort as the shield dies.

And the vault door? It's blacked, the metal twisted and outright melted in most spots. There are gaps there now, that should keep the gas from overwhelming them right away. But the mass still firmly blocks a ready escape from the chamber.

"What's going on? I can't see. What did you do to my cameras? You had better not have blown yourselves up or I'll be quite vexxed with you," comes Sublime's voice -- slightly distorted -- from the damaged monitor on the wall.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
M is coughing. Heavily and horribly. But Tabitha has gone enough to take down the blockage over on the door.. Monet can only wince in pain and brace herself as things blow up around and parts of hte room catch flame! As well as parts o fher catch flame - that's not important now. She just hears the maniacal man talking and taunting over then as she goes to quickly reevaluate their position. Fighting their way out was precarious and the man was too busy taunting them.. Wait. He had lost camera feed on them for just a moment. So he was going purely based off auditory.. Monet would recall the specifics of the audio setup from her memory (which was perfect). Her gaze shoots around, evaluating the layout of the room - monitors, mics, cameras, displays..

A hand goes to smash through a wall and some cheap paneling as she goes to drag out some small built in security mics that go to normally stabilize background noise to filter it out for whomever is on desk duty. Monet goes to grab those wires, twists them together over in her fingers and rapidly goes to the room over to an override panel.. Where she goes to take off the bloated Mister Atkin's ID, swiping it through, using the auditory override to lock down the buffer of the speakers that made background noise coherent and smoothed it out..

"Tabitha, do sing something trashy and off-key for our attendant now, will you?" Her intent being to do the equivalent of a mic check. With all of the maximum auditory power of the extremely expensive sound system hopefully backfiring all the way over to the other end of the spectrum for maximum agony.

Wade Wilson has posed:
    At this point the gleam of red in Wade's vodka bottle is enough to distract him a little as he turns his head to the side, the sightline drawing him over to... what looks like another compartment in the seat beside him. "Ooh neat. Self-destruct button free me from this tyranny of seclusion."
    He turns, slipping the bottle of vodka with its napkin into his lap as he pushes that glowing red button... five times in a row. Though that does not make the metal compartment under one of the seat cushions open any faster. It's with a low whir that the devices activates, twin doors opening to the sides revealing a robust variety of weaponry that would put the Punisher to shame.
    "Dillon, you son of a bitch."
    He leans over, looking over the gear and finding amongst it there is a silvery headset as well which he quirks an eyebrow at and then slides over his head.
    ** Testing, Testing. This thing on? Is this a thing Cable? Either I found Scalphunter's remains or you've been holding out on me. So many silvery guns with extra pointless barrels, multiple rails with half a dozen optics slapped onto them just to look all super cool. **
    A beat, ** Oh hey, also. How's the thing going? **

Sally Pride has posed:
There's too many vents to stop up them all, but this at least buys them some time.

Sally drops back to the floor.... just in time to see Boom-Boom find a different meants to live up to her callsign without superpowers. By the time Cable is shouting a warning she's already making for a far opposite of the chamber. Which between that and the emergency blast shield Cable throws down spares her from being turned into a flambe.

Once that's passed she walks over, and pats a hand on Tabby's shoulder. "Good try.. but lets try to not do the job of getting killed for the jackass."

Then turns her attention to Cable's stash as well. The mental gears are turning. "What we need is a beam that can be focused to narrow yet powerful enough to work like a cutting torch."

The vault door isn't entirely immune to what his future tech can do, if that little plasma escapade is any indication. Maybe just needs some refinement.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
Cable might be bracing Tabby from being thrown back through the door behind them. But the man is still solid as hell and the pressure between blast and body without her mutant durability is like being sqaushed under a pile of gym mats.

Still, her manic grin is still bright. "Woah, yeah! Kick start my heart! Hope it never stops!" she gets Monet's request fulfilled while the blonde steadies herself. There's a wobble on her feet but she's soon stead once more.

"Vexxed? If I do one thing here. I want that creep dropping F-Bombs when he even thinks of us!" It's good to have goals and objectives. Beyond rescuing captives and causing collateral damage.

Cable has posed:
Clearly Sublime has had both the time and some substantial resoruces to pour into the construction of this trap. Cable's guns can pack a heck of a whallop and the fact that the vault door held up at all -- even if significantly compromised -- is a pretty big testement to just what sort of resources their opposition has. Still, the room's integrety has been compromised now and it should have bought them enough time to extricate themselves from this particular trap.

In the aftermatch of the blow-back from the plasma cannon, Cable clambers to his feet once more and steals a quick look around before whipping off his jacket and grabbing hold of Monet to smothers the flames with it, letting it drop to the floor while it smolders. Letting his team burn up is bad for the image, though admittedly sometimes an occupational hazard.

"In the case," the future soldier says, gesturing towards the still open briefcase laying on the ground a short distance from Tabitha. "There's a laser cutting torch that should do the trip now that the structural integrity of the door is compromised," he says before putting a finger to his ear.

"Wade? About time. I told you to pay attention," Nathan says grimly. While the communications might still be out for the rest of them, it seems that Cable has his own way of cutting through the interference. "Take whatever you want from the stash and get your ass over here. Now," he says flatly, before turning back to the rest of the room.

Tabitha and Monet have seemed to embark on their own harassment campaign against the rather annoying Sublime and as they put those modified microphones to use the monitor on the wall squeals with a backlash of static. "Aarrrgghhh!" comes the pained shriek through in distorted fashion. "I don't know what you're doing there but I've had enough. You're quickly becoming a bigger annoyance then I would like to deal with. Consider our business concluded," he says sharply, the last flickering image on the monitor fading away.

On the floor, curled up in the corner, Davis Atkins grips his knees and slowly rocks in place, his suit scorced, his hair an absolute mess and little stains of black ash marking his features. "Thisisn'thappening. Thisisn'thappeng," he seems to be chanting, a little refrain to himself.

From the otherside of the vault door behind them a faint sound can suddenly be heard. "...come to save the day! Mighty Mouse is on his..." sings out in all too familiar tones, making Cable roll his eye. Just a little. A moment later the vault door behind them starts to glow around the edges. It seems that a laser torch was one of the items out in the limo as well. A moment later the vault door goes crashing to the ground with a loud crash, dust temporarily blocking the sight of their red-clad, would-be rescuer. "Yes, it's me, it's me!" Deadpool calls out as he steps over the ruins of that door, the gun with laser-torch attachment now slung over his shoulder and a pair of flaming bottles gripped in either hand. "And I've brought cocktails! Party time! Woooooooooo!"

Cable has posed:
Suddenly a voice chimes over the facility intercomm system. "Self destruct activated. This is your one and only warning to vacate the facility. Should you not make it to your designated exit in time please know that the Sublime Corporation thanks you for your service. Goodbye," comes the dulcet female tones of the recording.

"That's it. We'll regroup and come at this from another angle," Cable says, a hint of anger in his words. "Greymalkin, bodyslide by fiv..." he starts to say before the loudspeakers spring to life once more. "I don't think so," John Sublime's voice chimes in.

Just what sort of field goes up is tough to determine, at least from here. On the verge of dematerializing, in the end it is only Wade and those molotov cocktails that actually do vanish. Wherever he's going, it might be better that they're not also on the way with him. The flaming fuses looked like they were just about at their end. But it does leave them trapped in a complex on the verge of exploding.

That's not so great either.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Lovely. They clearly can't just cut and slam their way out of here. Monet is doing the calculations for the amount of mass to get out of the way for them to escape the complex, the cutting power they have, and the density of the metal frame.. Thier chances of actually breaching through it are minimal - even if they can get through thier chances of being able to extricate tehmselves from the zone before detonation is also questionable. Attempting to break the jamming is also uncertain given the timeframe and them not knowing how Sublime is doing things. But.. Monet goes to quickly calculate things.

Modified or not, all of these corporate post apocalyptic survival bonker style fortresses have the same layout. Thank whatever niche company marketed them and then produced them cookie cutter and very few architects wanting to admit that their sole design provenance of note was an underground fallout shelter.

Enhanced materials or not, the structure reinforced.. Monet goes to quickly look at the walls. Too thick. Teh door, too bulky. The ground..

THe ground is where it will be the weakest. Just a hole to go deeper to the complex.. And the self destruct charges are on top, and the charges likely are designed to throw the blast vertical. Who charges /down/ when a bomb is about to go off? Plus it makes the explosion look all the more terrifying when it goes up to the atmosphere. And John Sublime has showcased a sense of showmanship so far. Time to take him up on that.

She points at the ground and telepathically links with the group. "DIG!" Using thier guns, thier powers, their fists, thier claws.. And the ground that's the weakest structural reinforcement and teh explosives that go upwards.

Sally Pride has posed:
And the plan just continues to go sideways... Though whoever is on the other end of wherever Deadpool got warped to is probably in for a really bad time.

"This dumbshit is starting to make Madame Null look like a sweetheart..." Sally grabs a couple of weapons from Cable's stash, because this is going to take a bit more than just claws and blasters to get their asses out. "Look lively people, we've still got a mission to do. If Subloser is willing to blow his whole facility to stop us, we've succeeded in pissing in his oatmeal good."

To which Monet helpfully points a direction. "You got it." Since she didn't have to use it on the vault door thanks to Wade, Sally can put the laser cutter to use ripping open the floor for them to descend down.

Tabitha Smith has posed:
"So anyone remember where the power dampner emitters went?" Boomer gets on asking as she dumps the cannon and grabs her own plasma torch to start cutting. There's a pout when she feels her powers coming back not not quick enough for her liking.

"Ugh, this is so taking forever. One stream? So lame!" she admits and gets back to singing the Motley Crue, hips bouncing with the beat not actually playing. The hiss of metal being melted away echoing what Wade was doing not long ago while she works.

It probably looks more like a Benny Benassi video more than anything. "This is taking forever. But little longer someone might be able to give it a solid kick and knock the door down or the self destruct gonna go up with us in it." so impatient she is but then Tabby does not like people being caught in explosions when she likes them.

Then Monet gets all big brain. "Dig? Yeah!" that gets her hmming. Then shutting off her own cutter to stand right in the middle. "This might be quicker!" she states and swirls her hands. First lap gets a frown and nothing.

"C'mon, spark up bitch we going downtown!" she commands herself and tries again with an extra flourish as plasma starts to emanate from her fingers and start finding spots to cut and bore through the floor beneath everyone. She doesn't need to blast but even at full power she's still a walking plasma torch herself.

Cable has posed:
Well, he can't say that Wade didn't do his job. It might have been a little delayed, it might have ultimately not done them a little good, but he did show up and didn't burn the place down in the process.

Of course, it seems that Sublime is only too happy to do it for him, so there's that. And chances are pretty good that wherver Cable bodyslid him that Deadpool is now on fire himself, once those improvised bombs exploded.

But chances are he is in better shape then the rest of them right now, given the imminent explosion about to rip through the research compound. There is no sort of countdown, no sort of indication of just when the explosives rigged throughout might explode. It's not the msot fun to be working against a literal deadline when there isn't even a small clue of just when that time will be up. But that's where the find themselves.

Cable can feel the power dampeners start to go offline as well, some of them clearly damaged in the plasma discharge. Some, but not all. His pwoers are not back to full strength either. At the best of times he is reluctant to utilize his telepathy -- at least for anything but controlling the techno-organic virus that would quickly ravage his body without it. But as the others hasten to enact Monet's plan to tear through the floor and either drop into some lower level, or at least create a big enough foxhole to take cover in, the future soldier instead reaches out with his mind.

In some ways he is glad that Greymalkin could not simply bodyslide them to safety. He's a realist, a solider. He knows that there are losses in combat. It's unavoidable. Still, he didn't love the idea of abandonning the captive mmutants here to their fate, even if his primary responsibility was the safety of his team. Reaching out, he can feel those psychic impressions out there and a frown crosses his face. He pushes a little harder and a image resolves itself, a room, filled with mechanical devices simulating psychic impressions.

Sublime really was prepared for them, prepared to sacrifice the facility, no matter what he might have claimed. Cable's expression hardens and he turns back to the increasingly deep hole that the trio of women are carving up out of the ground.

It is hard to hear over the noise filling the vault, but the first of a chain of explosions sounds from nearby, that noise growing as the line of implosive devices begins to run towards them, picking up speed. "Time's up!" Cable shouts. "Into the hole!"

Monet St. Croix has posed:
It's not hte best plan. And it's a desperate one that still in the end is a failure. They failed to accomplish thier primary objective - rescuing hte mutants held here, and stopping the one that was after them. It's a plan that ends with them getting away at best with their tails charred between their legs. But they blast, they smash, they scream, they shoot through it. They blast down through the hole as the upper levels detonate in a catastrophe and a cavalcade. Yes, Monet is aware that the group has failed what they were after. But that's something that she has to mourn later.

They have to get out alive. Even as she moves to smash her fists to the ground, yanking out debris to throw it out of the way of where it might impede the others with guns and explosives nad booms. Monet just smashes. It's all she can really do now.

With everything else going on, one could hopefully forgive her at her own treasonous overlooking at anything beyond her own survival.

Sally Pride has posed:
They have precious little time, but the group does the best they can do with the limited frame and options they have. Good thing Cable brought some really big options, even if this wasn't the way they intended for the facility to go down. But... there wasn't time to do much else. Sometimes the lofty goals have to be put aside for the simple sake of survival. Which they were quickly running time out for as well.

"You heard the man. Duck and cover!" She disemgages the laser cutter and leaps in. Being a feline at least meant she had the flexibility to huddle up in a very small space to make room for everyone in the improvised foxhole. "Grab your ankles and hope it's not to kiss your ass goodbye."

Tabitha Smith has posed:
It's a way out and Tabby isn't long through the hole with the others. Power coming back and she can feel more and more energy building back up as her abilities gradually restore. "Gonna miss the quiet in my head. But I didn't miss not feeling the fire burning!" she states.

With everyone sle down in the hole. Tabby sends a bomb back up over head. This time tit's a decent size that could make the cannon she fired seem small. Mostly to keep the blast of the building self destruct shoved upwards and not downwards on them. Wade might need to hustle though, but if he's already on fire it probably can't get much worse. "Deadpool should be okay. Not like I'm aiming directly at him. Mourn my suit. It was a Van Dyne, it was tasteful and flattering and it was on sale!" At least it's getting a worthy cremation and was sacrificed for the greater good.

Cable has posed:
Even with the order given, Cable pauses for just a moment to gather up his briefcase, slamming it shut. There's nothing he can do about those poor animal crackers though. They're about to become very toasty and probably not fit to eat. It's sad, but really they all have bigger things to worry about then some after-explosion snacks.

One of these times though, he's going to pack them away with a little more care.

Pausing at the edge of the pit that is still expanding, even now, Cable glances towards the corner of the room where Davis Atkins continues to rock and chant, a low growl of disgust sounding low in his throat. Still, he extends a hand that way, more and more of those power dampners failing which in turn heightens his telekinetic abilities by the second. The cowering man all but flies towards him to be grasped by the collar and held aloft. "You don't really deserve this, but you probably didn't deserve to be cast aside by your employer either," he says, not sounding particularly happy about what he's about to do.

Then, reluctant as he might be Cable all but bodily hurls the sycophantic man down into the pit after the others before plunging in right behind, stretching out into something akin to a baseball slide as he cuts a path down the wall of the pit, coming to a sliding stop where Monet continues to pound against the ground, making their hole a little deeper, a little more likely to shelter them.

"For what it's worth, I checked. The psychic imprint of the captive mutants? Sublime has some sort of technology to simulate it. There's no captives up there," he says quietly. At least not alive ones. They might have failed to bring down Sublime this day, but at least they didn't abandon any innocent victims to their fate either.

It's something. Not much, but it's something.

No sooner is Tabitha's plasma bomb flying out and above the confines of the pit then Cable is extending his flesh and blood hand as well. Suddenly, up there at the mouth of their pit bits of scrap from the walls begins to cover the hole. There is a heavy *thunk* as the vault door that Deadpool carved free lands there as well and the materials just keep on flying, sealing them up down below.

Finally however, up above those implosive charges explode right at the same time as that plasma bomb. The world explodes around them in a cacophony of sound and light while they lay buried alive below the surface of the earth.