17720/Mutants and Master Molds: The First Wave

Mutants and Master Molds: The First Wave
Date of Scene:	24 April 2024
Location:	West Bushwick (Mutant Town)
Synopsis:	The Sentinels send out their first production line to rampage through Bushwick. A combined group of the Brotherhood and members of Xavier's fight them off.
Cast of Characters:	Monet St. Croix, Jean Grey, Patty Sloan, Pamela Isley, Cain Marko, Rogue, Fred Dukes, Evan Sabahnur, Victor Creed, Quentin Quire
Tinyplot:	Mutants and Master Molds

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Monet St. Croix has posed:
Large crowds were spread throughout Bushwick of protestors, escorts and monitors, and reporters. Many, many reporters.
    To one side was Trish Trilby, speaking to a camera, "This has struck a visceral mood for many of the inhabitants of Bushwick. Of nightmares that never end, of the Genoshan genocide.. Everyone here understands it could have been them. Because it has been them."
    Throughout the numerous throngs of protestors are a large number of stiffly moving individuals. They walk slow and pained - the type who might have old war injuries or prosthetics. Heavy clamps and clanks accompanying them throughout the crowded streets.

Jean Grey has posed:
Sentinels hold a particular place in the mutant consciousness, and it's no surprise that the events at the Starport have served as a political lightning rod. And knowing that a number of Xaviers students wanted to attend the protests directly, the school has made arrangements for them to do so, with its blessing and support. How could it do otherwise? What is Charles' vision if not change through dialogue and the political process?

Still, these things have a way of getting out of hand. Sometimes they attract anti-mutant hate groups intent on targetting such obvious gatherings. Sometimes they bring out the extremist mutant element, those who hold to a different philosophy, one sometimes espoused by the Professor's oldest friend. Whatever the case, things sometimes go sideways. So, along with all the students who have been encouraged to come out and express themselves, some of the teachers have come to keep an eye on things.

That includes Jean and Rogue!

Presently, though, things aren't quite too bad. So they're getting milkshakes. Moo Town is a favorite! Just stepping out, Jean's is Freaky Fudge Fusion. Yum.

Patty Sloan has posed:
Patty Sloan is Clueless. She has no idea about the protest. She has no idea about the sentinel. She has no idea about the news report going on. She's been a bit sick the past week. So no classes and she really just has been avoiding the news because its always bad. About the only thing she knows about is the Taylor Swift song playing loudly in her car. Where is she going? Well that is pretty easy to guess. She is heading down to Bushwick to go shopping. Her moms sent her a little money and she was going to spend it by golly.

As she drives through New York traffic, she notices that things are much slower than usual. In fact, traffic is all but at a stand still. A glance out the windows reveals protestors. She looks at the signs and a chill goes down her spine as the signs mention Sentinels. "What happened..." She trails off and notes that much of this part the city is out in force protesting. "This is a powder keg." She states to herself as she looks for a place to park.

After what seems like forever she finds a place to park. She pulls her car into the spot and she cuts the engine. Idly she gets out and looks around for any familiar faces.

Pamela Isley has posed:
Bushwick is usually not the first choice of environs for one Pamela Isley. It wouldn't even make it 3rd or 4th on the list for her. The one most commonly known as Poison Ivy is not necessarily a *people* person. And there are quite a lot of people in Bushwick. Certainly more people than plant life, that is for sure.

Yet, Ivy is also a mutant. And she doesn't necessarily take too kindly for being hunted. Well, it depends on the hunters, admittedly. But giant robots built just to capture individuals based solely because of a genetic marker they had no control over? That is almost as bad as defiling nature.

Almost.

So a mutant protest? Yes, Ivy is interested. The green-hued individual is, to her credit, keeping a lower profile at the moment. Easy due to the sheer number of people present. And she hasn't even threatened anyone yet, which is a plus. Fortunately, attentions are elsewhere, allowing her to mingle without actually having to, you know, talk to people.

Cain Marko has posed:
Talk about 'wrong place, wrong time.'...

When the protestors had begun gathering, a certain Citizen Cain had been long parked inside of a local bar with a large street facing window, minding his own business and making an attempted pass at trying to enjoy himself through non stop drinking and tube watching. His mammoth physique stands him out, of course, much as an elephant might stand out lounging among a herd of sheep, but here in Mutant Town such a physical trait is but one of many, particulary as restrained as he is at the moment compared to when he's in his 'work clothes'.

As the protests begin in earnest and many of the patrons slip out to either join in, or seek the back entrance of the bar to try and circumvent it, Cain simply sighs and gestures for another drink refill before turning his gaze to the window to begin watching. The bartender obliges and then begins flipping through various local channels, all beginning to report in on the massive protest as it continues to escalate in size and intensity.

The massive red head flickers his gaze towards the TV and then back to the large windows again. "Figures..." Cain rumbles under his breath, swamping is hand around his latest drink and slowly lifting it. "...Shoulda known my luck would give me a front seat to something nuts like this..."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue is right behind Jean, striding out of the Mootant Town Milkshakes store, a staple any time they're in town. Dressed in a pair of denim coverals in a shade of black, with a dark green tanktop on beneath it, and a pair of black boots beneath the cuffs of the denim coveralls, the Belle has her hair tied back in a ponytail. She reaches up to adjust her aviators atop her head, with her white bangs flowing in the wind upon stepping back outside, Rogue emits a heavy sigh.

"Banana Photon Blast is a weird name for a milkshake." She quietly grouses before pulling another sip from the pink and yellow swirl straw sticking out of the plastic bubble dome atop her cup. "But damn if it ain't delicious..." She states in her husky Mississippi toned voice.

One hand moves up to stroke her hair to the direction of the wind, pulling it back off her right shoulder, letting the ponytail drape down behind her shoulders, she eyes the streets of the active protest.

"I really hope fightin' doesn't break out, neither. I'm sicka this place always turnin' in to a damn joke on the internet..."

Fred Dukes has posed:
"So I don't think he did it." Fred Dukes is sitting at Three Eyed Larry's Noodle Hut, one of those famous New York street eateries where they use real rat and everything. Barbecue ain't worth a damn, but he finds himself enjoying the authentic Italian style ramen and slurps the saucy noodles with abandon. "Luthor, I mean. I fought Superman once, you know. Kind of an ex-pert."

Blob moves his bulk dangerously, but it's Mutant Town. The seats are reinforced. "And Luthor knows dumb alien grabbing robots. Sure, sure, he's always possessed by Brainiac's ghost or whatever the lawyers say, but the man has a giant machine designed to punch Superman on call twenty four seven, God bless him, and he uses an old model Sentinel? With the same paint job? That immediately goes rogue like they always do?"

"Man I voted for didn't do that. He's too smart. Too wily. This is a clear Dumb-o-crat setup." Blob swallows his broth with a horrible gulp, as Three Eyed Larry(A minor pre-cog who didn't see all you can eat day backfiring like this.) sweats. "Get a fella another Doctor Pepper while I explain this to you friend."

"Dessert?" Larry tries, his third eye seeing where this is going. "We've got fried ice cream balls?"

"Dessert? On my fourth bowl?" Fred frowns a little, leaning forward. "I guess I could keep it slim. Get a little of that protester chick action. They love a dashing freedom fighter you know. Still." Fred frowns. "What flavor?"

Larry sweats. "Tutti-frutti?"

Blob's face lights up slowly.

Evan Sabahnur has posed:
    Evan is at the entrance to Hope House, keeping an eye on the crowds. He knows most of the inhabitants of Bushwick by sight at this point, and also knows which ones are most likely to start trouble. Hopefully the protests will remain peaceful, but it's so easy to set off an explosion these days that he's ready to move as soon as anything starts.

    He's in his normal clothes, jeans, Broncos jersey and work boots, blending in fairly well with the crowd. Other than the gray skin, of course. Shaking his head he says half to himself, "These folks have got to calm a little. This always leads to trouble."

Victor Creed has posed:
There is a certain electricity in the air. Not magnetism or lightning, the more metaphoric kind. As if something is about to go down. Something major, something probably awful.

The sort of thing that drives Victor Creed.

His nose sniffs at the air, suspicion running high. He knows something is up. Some of these people...LOTS of these people...don't smell right. Something is always up, and this is the perfect time for something to be up.

And if something goes down, or pops up. He wants to be there.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
There are no signs of mutant hate groups or anti-mutant protestors. None of the usual line of threats, hecklers, or standoffs going on. Apparently powered beings over by the hundreds make for a tornado that not even thugs backed by guns want to get into the middle of. Display of power recently by certain peerages reinforcing that quite a great deal.
    But, on this unfortunate day there will be troubles from things beyond mere humans. Spread throughout the crowds are those clanking, slow moving individuals that may or may not have been spotted in the throngs. Wearing well done prosthetics and makeup, clothes a bit heavier than the weather needed, and putting off airs of just being silent participants.
    It's only when they're properly spread out throughout the venue that they activate.
    For those that make hardware, this line of production is called a 'stress test'. Where you take something that's well along the line of development and put it through heavy abuse to see how it does, what are weak points, and how it holds up under real world conditions to refine the design. If you ever played with toys, it's the phase where a designer smashes a jet intot he wall and stomps on it a few times to see if it breaks.
    And throughout the crowd numerous of these masked units showcase that the Sentinel tactical algorithms have taken inspiration from the Terminator movies. In this case, the T-600 models. Humanoid units.. With rubber skin and masks.

    there are the simultaneous hums of dozens of humanoid sclaed robotic units powering up and then moving to try and immediately blast into the crowds! No chants of death to mutants, threats of termination, or their design parameters. But for those veterans paying attention to the crowds, wary and alert for anything amiss.. It's definitely there. And roomf or heroes to get in the way.

Patty Sloan has posed:
Patty is near one of those sentinel t-600s. Quickly she takes flight and gets out of the way of the blasting thing. "What the..." She exclaims as she flies upward. She isn't fleeing. That is for certain. She is looking for anyone familiar. Moreover she is looking for people in danger. That last part is pretty much everyone.

Her attention goes to the surroundings. Is there anything she can use to make her powers more effective. Her eyes fall on a tree. Its not far from one of the attackers. "Get clear now!" She calls out to the people but her voice is swallowed by a sea of screams and shouting. She can't get a clear shot to blow the tree down onto one of the sentinels.

Its about then that Patty notices a small group teens who happen to be huddling together and trying to take cover. She flies upward to get a better view of the area and then finds what she is looking for. She quickly dives down to them and speaks up, "Hey. You need to get out of here. Those things are not exactly picking their targets here." She states as she looks around. "Come with me. There is a Subway stop a few blocks from here."

Evan Sabahnur has posed:
    Since he was already watching for trouble, when it pops up Evan doesn't have that moment of surprise to slow him down. With a quiet "Sonofabitch" he's charging into the crowd, grey skin taking on the sheen of metal as he also grows to about fifteen feet.

    "Mutants, scatter!" he shouts as his right fist forms into a spiked hammerhead. His swing whooshes through the air, slamming into one of the revealed robots with the sound of crushing metal and a buzz of electricity. Even with it's chest crushed, it tries to shoot him, but the weapon doesn't penetrate his enhanced skin. Another step and he is in range to hit it again, flattening it's head. A few more electrical buzzes and smoke starts to ruse from it.

    However, he's also made himself a rather large target that a couple of the robots focus on, firing at him from several directions. When three of them focus their weapons at the same point on his torso, it starts to glow red-hot, eliciting a surprised "Ow! Not cool!" He spins to his left to throw their aim off, and launches himself through the air towards a robot turning to bring a flamethrower in line with a huddling group of mutants.

Jean Grey has posed:
"Its weird getting blasted in the mouth by a banana?" Jean quips back to Rogue. "Don't jinx it..."

This is nice! Well, it could be nice. Just one time, it would be nice if nothing crazy happened and they both got to enjoy their full damn milkshakes!

Jean is slurrrrrrping on her straw as they make it outside. The first time she hears the weird clanky walking sound, it doesn't quite register as a threat: you hear all kinds of weird noise out on the street in the city on a busy day. But when it becomes more repetitive, her (metaphorical, not actual, since there's a real one!) Spidey-sense starts going off. "Oh Something's not quite..." Her instinct, of course, is to scan through the crowds for worrisome thought patterns. ABSENT thought patterns count, too. "...oh come on." She looks at Rogue, expression just a little tired and put-upon.

All that weariness aside, she's quick to take action, the brief moment of awareness giving her enough time to act. Touching a hand to her temple, the first volley of fire into a nearby group of pedestrians impacts against a barrier of opposing telekinetic force, shimmering translucent yelllow. She's not sure about the adaptive capabilities, but hedges her bets as the next option is for something a little harder to adapt to, reaching out yank a panel of metal sheeting off some nearby construction scaffolding (there's ALWAYS some scaffolding up in NY...) to swing around and use as a more physical barrier against some of the incoming fire. While she plays mobile shield, she glances over to Rogue. "G'on, I've got defense..."

Cain Marko has posed:
A cut away to a summary of the events at the Starport had grabbed Cain's attention and the huge mans gaze had turned to the TV just as the screams of terror and the roar of the panic of the crowd began. By the time he's snapped his attention back towards the windows the chaos had begun in earnest and the bartender was already trying to beat a hasty exit to the rear of the building.

It may not be fast enough for either of them. There's a flash of white and roar of energy discharge as the sentinels nearest to the bar open fire on the crowds gathered outside of it, unleashing a barrage of assaults upon scattering mutants and the building itself. The windows and walls explode and then a greater fireball engulfs the room, blowing out towards the back and spraying flaming debris in all directions as Cain himself is swallowed from sight by plasma, flames and then roiling smoke and dust.

It doesn't take long, in the aftermath of that, for the very earth to begin shaking. The heavy tell tale *TOOOMS* of something immense moving within and then starting to emerge from the wrecked bar. Slowly, like a kaiju emerging from the sea, The Juggernaut begins to step forward through what remains of the shattered walls and windows. His body, fully sized and in armor now, striding forward through the walls as if they were wet tissue and the sheer enormity of him bringing down remains of the front of the structure as he presses his way onto the chaotic streets. Crimson energy crackles about his body and firing off like streaks of lightning from his eyes before dissipating as he sweeps his gaze over the chaos. He comes to a stop with a final *TOOOM* imprinting his foot into the concrete as he grits his teeth in building fury.

"Alright...NOW..iI'm MAD..."

Pamela Isley has posed:
Poison Ivy is no hero.

At least, that is what she is constantly reminded of. The side-eyed glances. The whispered voices. She knows that she isn't exactly beloved. And, honestly, she doesn't seem to care too much.

Still, Pamela does have feelings. She is not completely heartless. She honestly tries to do good. She just has her own way of going about it that may not necessary agree with what society deems 'normal'.

Speaking of normal...even the misanthrope can identify certain abnormalities in the crowd. Like, that individual just a few yards to her right. That isn't exactly normal movement, what with the stiff-leg gait and all. And yes, the clothing selection. Far too much for the moderate temperatures presently. The facial features....too static. A bit too much 'uncanny valley'. It is enough to give nearly anyone the creeps.And then the figure starts to openly fire upon innocents with what appears to be a poor man's repulsor blast, the arm emerging from a too-large overcoat. If one didn't know better, it would look like a cosplay of a Iron Man gauntlet...only...it looks to be part of the figure.

There isn't an exclamation from Pamela, just as there isn't any warning from the robotic figure. The robot only gets off a couple of shots before vines erupt from a nearly window flower box, encapsulating the robot within morning glories that certainly were just starting to climb. The plants writhe as if snakes, coiling around the machine as they tighten. If they don't stop, they will surely crush their prisoner within.

But, Ivy has no intention of stopping...

Rogue has posed:
That quip from Jean catches Rogue while she is taking a pull from her swirly straw. It causes the Belle to look up, and over, snapping her eyes to the redhead on her left. She is quick to point with her free hand toward Jean, taking a moment to clear her palette and not suffer the woes of a brain freeze, before she fires back. "You can't make jokes like that, those kinda jokes are /my/ thing!" She declares with an abundance of earnesty within her Southern flavored voice. But she does show a glimmer of a smirk too...

At least until things go straight to Hell, as they seem to always do down here in Bushwick, aka, the furnace of Mutant problems.

"Gosh dangit, I just wanted to enjoy a night out..." She groans, as she is quick to take Jean's cup from her hand, while she sees the woman focusing upon her mind control tricks. With a short flight upward, Rogue sets their drinks together upon a brick ledge, before pulling her phone and sunglasses off to set them down as well. When she drops back down to the sidewalk, Jean's scaffolding and shields have taken effect, and with the utterance to get going, the Steel Magnolia does just so.

Rogue rockets up in to the sky, her flight path taking her through a corckscrew pattern past some Sentinel beam weapons fire, before she delivers a hard punching fist right in to the optical sensor of the first Sentinel bot she soars up on at high speeds!

Fred Dukes has posed:
"Aw yeah." Fred swallows the ice cream. "That's the stuff. Store bought New York ice cream. Is there even any milk in this?"

"Whatever you want, man." Larry says, his third eye widening. "Listen we've got to get."

A rocket blasts into the little overpriced food stall. It's blown apart instantly, the high end expensive oven catching fire, the mostly fresh food being shredded apart with ugly metal bits from the warhead, Three Eye Larry having seen just enough of the future to leap to the side and crawl away from this with a dislocated shoulder instead of his life.

But nothing moves the Blob. The massive mutant stands up, cracking his neck, ignoring the fact that he is presently on fire. "So the big idea was to make 'em smaller and with worse guns." Blob says to his audience of millions. The fire could be a problem eventually, heat and cold can effect him, but impacts?

Blob just wades through the crowd, not terribly concerned. He reaches for one of the plastic men, grabbing for its throat.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Nothing stops the Juggernaut. Or slows him. Or effects him. Energy blasts pop and peel off of him as everything in the area seems to stand still. And then rather than shoot at him fruitlessly, or try and blast away at him to no avail.. The closest Sentinels to him just go to try and flee back into the crowd. Weapons active, trying to blast at any mutant that moved. No chants, no threats.

They're making a decided effort at trying to stay away from any heavy hitters they run into. Not swarming them. Energy blasts lash out, bullets, flames.. Melee weapons pop out and go to try and slash, stab, and skewer into the crowds as mutants scatter. Far too many of them have lived through carnage.

They're aiming to try and take out as many people as possible. Wherever they meet resistance.. They try to flee. For the heroes, this very likely makes the situation.. Complicated.

And for those trying to save civilians.. It makes things much harder.

Shots and blasts pepper off of anyone that's invulnerable. Nothing stops the Juggernaut, nothing moves the Blob. Ivy tears things apart..

But the situation is getting more dangerous as the risk of collateral damage from such large amounts of weapons fire going off in a community area - things could get messy even faster!

Cain Marko has posed:
The sight of Rogue catches Juggernaut's attention and he looks towards her even as the colorful barrage of plasma discharges and concussive blasts come washing into him along with occasional rocket fire. Some of blasts splash over him, sending tendrils of energy spraying out in all directions to do chaotic bursts of damage. Rocket fire explodes into him and the fireballs erupt and then billow behind him to further wreck and ruin what's left of the poor ruined bar. In all of this, Juggernaut simply yells out, "Well, well! Loos like Charles kidlets have finally decided to do some work! What's the problem?! Got some kids breakin' curfew?" His deep voice rumble and bellows over the chaos of the fighting but his attempt at shade doesn't last long as he takes note of the Sentinels near him trying to make a run for it.

Cyttorak's urge for destruction wells up in him. His massive fingers reach down, gouging into the ground and the side of the bar he'd just emerged from. There's a horrible sound of stone braking and concrete rending as the behemoth begins to literally uproot the side of the already well ruined building. An instant later and a massive chunk of it has been shorn free sending more rubble tumbling down around him.

"Oh no ya don't!" he thunders before ttwisting , lifting the massive chunk upwards and then bringing it down to try and crash it into the Sentinels pulling away from him before they scatter.

A Juggernaut in the middle of a chaotic cauldron of violence is going to result in some property damage. Go figure!

Patty Sloan has posed:
"Keep low and try to avoid getting shot." Patty states as she lands and starts leading the group. "This way!" She quickly starts moving forward into traffic. Anything to give the small group some cover. "Use the cars to cover yourselves." She states as about a dozen people follow her lead. She stops and guides the various men and women away from the sentinels. She quickly moves them trying to be as encouraging as humanly possible.

Several laser blasts come flying her way. Quickly she turns her attention to the sentinel attacking her. "Keep going! MOVE!" She throws a hand forward and a blast of wind, easily the strength of a tropical storm goes beating down on the Sentinel. "Please work." She comments as she continues to blast wind at the machine.

Quentin Quire has posed:
Of all the days to sleep in. He's not a student, or staff, or an X-Man, but Quentin has been hanging around Xavier's lately. He heard about the protest from a few of the older students and agreed to meet them there. And then he wasn't there are the spot where all parties agreed to meet before heading to protest in Mutant Town.

Looks like he missed out on the chance at a milk shake. Sad trombone noise.

Fashionably late Quentin does make it to Bushwick just everything starts to pop off as the latest in the S-600 (Sentinel-600, instead of the Terminator-600? Get it? huh? Huh?) line starts attacking the crowd of protestors. With the immediate vicinity roiling like a kicked anthill, Quentin doesn't get much closer than the outskirts as he pulls up, sat astride a psionic construct glowing pink and looking remarkably like a Japanese crotchrocket-style of motorcycle. Sitting up from the crouch as he gets stuck in traffic snarled by the outer edges of protestors fleeing for their lives, he frowns at the unclear chaos. Is the protest over already? He's wearing his MAGNETO WAS RIGHT t-shirt and everything today, too!

Shouts are quick to carry, but not so quick to be understood as the telepath reaches out to scan the street ahead of him, coming up against all sorts of emotions; fear, anger, hate, suffering. And then a whole lot of blank spots in the crowd, where the janky emotionless robots are striding. Including one very, very close by. One of the prosthetic-clad Sentinels lifting both its arms towards Quentin as it emerges from the crowd of panicked people, focusing on the rather obvious manifestation of psionic energy.
The blast of plasma lances out, most assuredly a killshot if not for the poeple running like scared sheep every-which-way, including into the S-600 taking aim at Quentin, throwing that aim off. Plasma blasts into the psionic construct and Quentin goes flying with a surprised shout, his attention too far ahead to notice the trouble right behind.

Evan Sabahnur has posed:
    Evan forms his other arm into a large shield, trying to interpose it between any robot and it's targets, gritting his teeth as he hears the screams of mutants he can't save. He wants to just start smashing these horrid things, but it would be far too easy to start doing as much damage as they are to the area.

    He sticks with melee, not wanting to take the chance of hitting bystanders if his aim is off. He moves as quickly as he can between the robots, chasing them down as they run from him to try and attack helpless targets. He switches weapons, forming his hand into a wide bladed spearhead that he sends whipping over the crowd to impale robots that are trying to cause more casualties. He's trying to filter out the bodies for right now, focusing on the attackers instead. Later will be the time for dealing with the aftermath, for now these things need to be stopped.

Jean Grey has posed:
Jean's efforts continue to focus on protecting the crowds, and past the immediate moment of instinctive reaction, reaching out to find the Xaviers students among the crowd with a familiar mental voice: << Everyone, the important thing is to stay safe. Stick together, or if you're alone, sound off and I'll direct someone to you. If you're able to move, find a route of retreat, or if you can't, then find somewhere you can get cover. >>

It's important to know that this is in largest part directed at the youngest students, and those who may be less able to directly protect themselves with their particular powers. She can feel their minds, and many of them are scared and confused. But there's a select few out there she knows are perfectly well capable of taking care of themselves. One of them is pretty hard to miss, doing his own bit of menacing titan appearance, towering over the crowds. Another, with his distinctive constructs. For the older students, she has a different message: << If you've got the ability to help those who can't help themselves - it's time to put what we teach to work. >>

These efforts at coordination don't end with the Xaviers students, however. In a situation like this, where the strange cobbled-together automatons are seeking to inflict damage on the crowds generally in preference to more focused attacks, panic and fear are a great a threat as any. People run for their lives, and in a crowd like this, that can mean people getting trapped, crushed, knocked down and trampled. So while she maintains the fairly simplistic physical defenses, her mind reaches out on a wider scale to feel the crowd itself, encompass the chaotic cacophany of human thought as a single wider image.

<< Calmly, peacefully. All of you, moving west toward Flushing... You on the other side, East and then South...>> Like this, she acts as conductor to the entire crowd, taming some of that human chaos into more orderly escape.

Rogue has posed:
Metal bending, breaking, screws popping and flying. Rogue is in the process of tearing the head off one of the tall robots, when the Juggernaut calls up to her. Her ponytail having come loose from the action movement, her dark strands of chestnut hair flowing wildly around her shoulders, as Rogue tears the Sentinel head from its shoulders, and raises it up over her head.

"Why don't ya flirt with me a little less, Jugganaut, and do a bit more fightin'!" She fires back down to Marko before she uses the Sentinel head as a battering ram, and flies directly toward another!

A massive reverberation echoes down the concrete canyons of the city neighborhood, as the Belle busts right in to the next robot, using the first's head to her advantage!

Dented and shedding bits of gnarled metal, Rogue backs up in mid-air, and flies forward again, repeating her powerful bashing technique!

When the Sentinel head crumbles to pieces, she is quick to dip down out of the air, where she spies a young kid running from some of the chaos. "Got ya, fella, hang on!" rogue announces, as she grabs him by his arm-pits and yanks him up off the ground just as a electric wire skids across the pavement, dusting the ground with bursts of zapping electrical danger!

Pamela Isley has posed:
One Sentinel down, compacted into junk by vines. And there are still more out there, threatening. The greenery retracts, leaving behind sparking bits of mangled electronics as Ivy steps forward, onto the green mass. And, with but a gentle request, the vines hoist her into the air, raising her above the crowd so that she can get an elevated view of the surroundings. It certainly puts her in plain view of the attackers, but, even with the brief survey of the terrain, it is apparent that the attackers are not targeting those with perceived offensive power.

No, the accursed robots are targeting innocents. Not quite as heinous as attacking nature...but still fully deserving of retaliation.

To which Pamela is more than willing to provide. Another construct, armed with what seems to be a couple of melee weapons (machetes from the looks of it) is suddenly strung up as a tree branch reaches over to grasp the machine by the scruff of the neck, as an Ent would a petulant hobbit. Then, with a decidedly dismissive nature, the machine is cast aside, violently, against the side of a brick building, with enough force to rip asunder the limbs.

Victor Creed has posed:
Chaos and bloodshed are not a solution. But they are damn fun.

As things start to break out, Victor Creed doffs his trenchcoat, and the blonde furred warrior leaps into action, claws out as he starts to take on some of these not quite human assailants. And some human assailants, too.

An observer just watching might think he was out of control, not knowing friend from foe.

But those who know Victor Creed suspect the truth: He can smell the foes easily enough. But they do not give the same visceral thrill that the flow of human blood does.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Panic leads to the worst casualties. When people run away, fleeing, not knowing what is going on. When they trample one another, when they rush into areas that are not safe, when everything collapses about them. But controlling people when so much is going on, so much danger and overload is among the most difficult things to do to keep people safe.

Fortunately Jean Grey is here. And she's able to get the point across. Where people are not being actively attacked they scramble away to safety in groups and move along rapidly to cover.

When mutants get directly in their way and they can't avoid them or get away from them, the Sentinels do react. They go to blast out, lash out, or in at least one case a limb retracts, turning into a razorwire whip which would slash several meters in every direction.

As they start running into people with invulnerability, some of the Sentinel-constructs go to shift tactics. Now, they're blasting with tear gas, hyper-sonics to deafen, flashbangs and smoke bursts. One particularly bulky Sentinel goes to take a large foot out, even as metal prongs pop from it to anchor itself into the ground. What looks like a piston over on the foot goes to crank to a state of high power.. Then if not stopped it moves to smash down HARD to cause a micro-quake for a half block around it!

Creed's uncanny ability to pick out who is human and who is not and his ability to follow the path of the attackers makes for an incredibly efficient fast response. And brutal.. If they had organic bits. But the only flesh on them is what they wore to conceal their fragments.

Evan Sabahnur has posed:
    One at a time is taking too long, letting them hurt or kill more mutants. Evan makes a throwing motion with his arm, whipping the spear head out as his arm thins and elongates to allow him to impale multiple robots at once. When he's got about six, he turns slightly and whips his arm against a building, smashing the robots into the wall. He retracts the arm, letting the robots drop to the ground, except for the one that is still stuck in the wall.

    He gets Jean's message, but since he's doing that already, he keeps on chasing down robots. Wherever possible he attacks more than one at once, but since they keep running from him, it's not that easy. Still, all he can do is try. Robot parts go flying every time he manages to catch another. A couple wounds have been opened in his skin at this point, the worst one where the robots has overheated his armor. A rocket that hit in the same area blew some of his armor off and left him bleeding for a few moments until the wound closes up on it's own.

    He wants to go to the people, help them, reassure them, but first the attackers need to be dealt with. He continues to chase them around the area, glad to see a number of hard hitting mutants on the attack as well. Some Bushwick natives are doing better than others, one electricity manipulator blasting away at the robots while another is dropping some kind of dimensional portals under the robots, swallowing them up and closing.

    Not every mutant is a victim, as whoever is responsible for this will eventually find out.

Fred Dukes has posed:
The sentinels are running away?

"Another new trick!" Blob bellows, but this is kind of a problem! He's no Juggernaut, what on earth is he supposed to do with an enemy that is just disengaging from him like this. His usual technique is to morally offend whatever super-weenie is in his business and then squeeze them until they broke. But you can't upset a robot.

Wait.

Blob grins again. "Sabertooth! Get over here! I've always wanted to do this!" Blob claps his arms together, bending down to offer. Oh god.

He wants to Fastball Special. "You know you want to show canucklehead up."

Cain Marko has posed:
"Huh. Cute, Rogue, cute." responds Juggernaut, clearly amused by the southern belle's sass His mouth pulls into a full toothed almost sharkish grin, shadowed though it is by the depths of his helmet. "Alright, fine. I'll crush ya later."

An instant later and his boulder sized fist has plowed into another Sentinel as he charges forward into it. A devastating *BOOOM* exploding through the area, shattering windows and sundering the ground as his strike impacts with little spared force.

A leap followed by a backhanded swat sends another one tumbling skywards towards a distant building. ..and another strike sends a thunderous earthquake irppling out as he brings a fist up and then down, crushing another of the attackers into a widening crater from the force of his impact. Each assault carries with it a seismic disturbance, shaking the whole of the area and rattling buildings as the colossal avatar presses the attack, leaving destruction in his wake.

"Wha gives, these things made out of cardboard or something? I though these things were supposed to be tough!" he thunders out as he turns his attention towards another set of them while also finally getting sight of the presence of several others especially Fred and Evan.

Famous last words. The ground shakes and not of his own doing, causing the giant to stumble as the earthquake wave ripples over him and as he goes down towards one knee the sonic assault blasts into him as well and his teeth grit and his eyes squint shut. "Rhnnngghh!!!"

It's a rare thing for The Juggernaut to feel pain. This is one of the methods capable of doing so.

But stubbornness is a virtue and he twists his body around in direction of the assault. A massive arm raises upward, muscles flexing like a buick under his rugged flesh as he arcs upwards and then brings the arm downward in a titanic swing. Upon impact an earthquake of his own roars out, racing against the one sent before in an opposing blast wave in a richter scale level event that seeks to send Sentinels flying and disrupt the sonic assaults.

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor Creed had a plan. It was not a very good one, but it was a very Sabretooth one.

He was just climbing onto a car to execute his strategy of picking off random humans and bellowing his best Richard Vernon impression, something about bulls, horns, and claws...and that would have been FUN. But productive? Arguably.

And then the Blob makes him an offer he can't refuse. He turns towards his portly colleague and licks his fangs. "Anything he can do, we can do better," he agrees. He lifts up his nose, pointed towards the sky, and sniffs intently, before looking back to Fred. "Point me over there," he says, indicating a place off in the distance. Why there? Who knows.

And then Sabretooth leaps down from the car, reaching out to slash one civilian across the back in the process (he has to have at least one) before bounding hand over foot across the ground. Wisely, people give him a wide berth as he charges at the Blob before he propels himself into the air at the rotund mutant, spinning around and curling up his legs to prepare to add whatever little bit of spring he can contribute from the recoil of the world's bounciest belly.

The Guinness folks better be around to see how far a cat can fly.

Jean Grey has posed:
While playing crowd-o-mancer may not be the most dramatic thing, lives are fragile, and whatever Jean can do to simply lessen the number of targets available seems like an immediate win. Still, there's plenty of people who don't find it so easy to escape. Some are trapped among the rampanging terminator-style stealthy-Sentinels. The strange tremor attack that one of them deploys doesn't help on that account, either. It doesn't just knock people down as they flee, but sends cracks through the street, unleashing further chaos as it threatens all the unseen infrastructure that the city has running under the streets. In one place, a water main suddenly bursts (those things are notorious, some of them being extremely ancient pipes long in need of replacement), sending up a geyser through the ruptured asphalt. Just lucky it wasn't a _gas_ line instead.

When the tremor reaches Jean, she handles it easy, just lifting an inch up off the ground almost by instinct, but it doesn't take her long to see what kind of further chaos it's unleashed. She quickly flies higher, and now really starts pushing her powers. Not to attack, even now - there's plenty of people who can smash those things - but to start airlifting the people who can't flee out. This is large-scale, plucking the people from their feet not by the ones and twos, but by the dozens. Of course, it's likely to be a bit terrifying. Most people here don't know who she is, heck, probably most people don't know why any of this is happening to them, today. <<Don't be alarmed, folks. I'm going to lift you up and set you down nearby, where it's safe.>>

Patty Sloan has posed:
Patty had that one! At least that is what she will tell herself later. In reality her wind wasn't doing a lot besides pushing the sentinel back. Quentin however put the finishing touches on the nasty device. "Oh Hi Quentin. We have to quit meeting like this!" Patty comments as turns her attention back to the people who are looking to her for direction. "That way. One block! Just stay down and you are safe." She states as she continues guiding the people.

Moments later the dozen or so people are happily entering the subway tunnel away from the bullets/lasers/repulsers/blasters that are being fired around. Patty takes a moment and sighs in relief. <<Good to hear you Dr. Grey.>> She thinks to Jean. Then with no warning. A laser blast hits her in the shoulder. "Oh shit..." She drops to the ground wincing in pain. "Dammit that hurt!"

Rogue has posed:
A gas cannister chases a crowd of Mutants down an alleyway, as Jean uses her mind to give them guidance on where to flee. With puffs of dangerous fumes gushing out of the cannister, the group of Mutants find themselves blocked off by an alleyway fence! Just as the cannister was about to roll up on the Mutants, however, a black boot appears beside it, delivering a powerful kick that causes the cannister to go soaring far away, like a football headed for a field goal three arenas to the west! Rogue watches it soar away, after delivering that pro-athlete kick, and with a smirk she spins around to aid the Mutant congregation. "Step back." She tells them, as she parts the middle of the crowd, moving toward the twenty foot fence. She rips the padlock from the gate's door, and shoves it open, giving a wave of her free hand toward the group to usher them through. "Keep goin', don't look back."

The gate door is slammed shut again, but the shattered padlock gets tossed in to a pile of discarded trash bags. Rogue rushes back toward the mouth of the alleyway, to look out on the street at the continued chaos, a heavy sigh causing her shoulders to rise within her dark green t-shirt, before they drop again as she lets that sigh out.

"Such a nice night too... what a damn crime." She mutters to herself, before taking flight once more.

Quentin Quire has posed:
The faux bike too the brunt of the blast, the concussive force sending Quentin flying to the sidewalk to land in an uncoordinated heap on the concrete with a groan, the psionic construct vanishing in a burst of superheated gas. That doesn't seem to stop the telepath from retaliating though, telekinetically snagging two empty cars from either side of the street. Shouts of confusion add to the general chaos as everyone between the two cars is pushed out of the way with a telekinetic nudge; all but for the S-600, robotically stomping towards the fallen telepath.

"Shootin' a guy in the back? That's cheating!" Quentin shouts at the construct just as he pulls the two cars together, making a sentinel sandwich with a crunching crash. Groaning as he pulls himself up to a sitting position he's almost kicked in the face by the group of scared teenagers that Patty is trying to shepherd to safety. "Hey, I'm sittin' here, I'm sittin' here!" he grouses in a horrible DeNiro accent as he swats at the sneakers flying at his face, telekinetically clearing the space around him with gentle shoves and pushes.

"Oh, hey, you're Patty." Quentin states as he clears the immediate vicinity, sending the scared mob streaming into the subway tunnel. Recognizing her from his loiterings around Xavier's as she drops, shoulder smoldering.

"What is it with these things and shooting people in the back?" he grumbles as he reaches out, snatching up the second S-600 that emerged from the crowd and took a potshot at Patty. The robot in engulfed in a brillant pink glow and then its limbs start to twist and jerk. Internal structure squealing and shattering as he compacts the body of the human-sized Sentinel down to a rough sphere, the head still attached at the shoulders but looking more like BB-8 than C3PO.

"You okay?" he asks the girl once he's dealt with the immediate threat.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Just keeping the Sentinels away from civilians helps. They're trying to avoid those too powerful for them to direclty confront, but they're not just mindlessly ignoring them either. So when Evan goes to get in the way of them and goes to engage them, they have to respond. And his powers help take them out quickly and help people get away from them.

The Blob and Victor Creed go to teamup for what would be a spectacle that not even Deadpool or Spider-Man could give a proper tagline to. A pickup, a hurl, and there's a streak through the air!
    Creed flies through the air, with the greatest of ease! That crazed berserk killer, without a trapeze!
    And the earth shakes, just a little bit. THe Juggernaut feels something. This makes him angry. Few people like him when he's angry. Now Cain is effectively smashing up virtually every single Sentinel in the area. It's a very rough, one sided, and brutal smashdown.
    Hopefully the area is weathering the storm better than the Sentinels are.

Patty is working well at the most important job - saving people. Escorting them down to safety, even as chaos goes on all around them! And Quentin's there going to play an almost literal patty-cake with the Sentinels, going to flatten them over into bits.
    Rogue goes to charge right in one way, and then charge out the next. IT's definitely not a fun way to have date night go.
    And that makes for most of them. Among the rampaging Juggernaut, the cat that could fly, the pink Quentin, the blue Kid Genesis.. Tonight is when the day was saved by the merry mutants and mystically empowered friend. Whatever few bits of Sentinels that are left are sizzling and frying. Nothing so insidous as a self destruct or a widespread detonation.
    But instead they're frying internal circuits, emp'ing internal electronics.. Or anything that might have useful information on it about them.

Evan Sabahnur has posed:
    Evan looks around, but the attack is just about over. Good thing there were enough heavy hitters here today to keep the robots busy trying to avoid them, or there would have been more bodies lying on the streets and sidewalks.

    But there are far too many as it is.

    Slowly, he returns to his normal size, skin softening again as he starts checking fallen mutants, at the same time pulling out a cell phone and dialing 911 to get the ambulances started. They're going to need a lot of them tonight. A tear runs down his cheek as he checks the next victim and finds no life signs, whispering to himself "Why?"

    There's really no good answer to that.

Patty Sloan has posed:
Patty winces and nods, "I'll live. Damn that burns!" She gets up off the ground. Her shoulder has a wicked burn in it. The laser that hit her had a good two to three inch blast radius and Patty is feeling every bit of it. She shudders and flutters her wings.

As she lifts off the ground a few feet, she looks around and sees the sentinels dropping. "Umm I don't think they are supposed to do that?" She asks Quentin. Each one short circuiting and frying all the info they happen to have stored on them. She shakes her head. "So much for finding out what these bastards are doing." A sigh escapes her lips and she quickly thinks out to Jean, <<Ummm do you have a first aid kit? I kinda got hit.>>

Fred Dukes has posed:
"Fuck Wolverine." Blob agrees as he hurls Sabertooth directly at as many Sentinels as he can see. And if there are a few bystanders, well. Evolution. He salutes the psychopath. "And God bless America."

Wow, what a mess. Blob blinks as he feels something unusual-

He moves. Blob stumbles, looking at Juggernaut and being irritated by magic being cheat codes for the universe. It makes Blob's cool assurance in the creed of mutant supremacy shake, a little. And if Blob isn't homo superior, he's just a sad joke, isn't he?

More power is clearly the answer, Blob thinks, which is why some people stay supervillains in this world. He looks at the giant mess, his computer skills not even being in the ballpark of what'd be needed to help with this, and instead does what big guys do at disasters like this, starting to slowly move rubble.

Quentin Quire has posed:
"Damn! No, they're not!" Quentin replies as Patty points out that the various defeated Sentinels are self-destructing. He reaches out towards the one he just turned into a Star Wars Droid Cosplay, looking for explosive packages similar to the last batch of sentinel drones he's encountered.

And finding none, since they're just overloading themselves.

"Dammit dammit dammit..." the pink-haired telepath continues to grumble as he's quickly left with a smoking sphere with a sentinel head, eyes and mouth leaking smoke.

"Well, I hope there's enough left in there for Doug to check against..."

<<Seems like that's all of them...>> Quentin broadcasts to Jean and Rogue. <<Bail out and let emergency services take over? After speechifying at that newscaster that we're here to help and all that?>>

Cain Marko has posed:
There is no doubt some major structrual damage to the streets and buildings after the last stunt Juggernaut just pulled but really, it could be much worse. Despite the urges of his patron, there was at least some restraint here. The Avatar of Cyttorak was acting on a combo of petty revenge for a night ruined true enough but also acting on not wanting a place he enjoys visiting from time to time just flattened to the ground.

Never you mind the fact that not an insignificant portion of property damage was just caused by him in the process of 'helping out'.

With the disorientation and pain caused by the sonic assaults having passed, the crimson behemoth full rights himself as the distant rumble of his own earthquake fades away...just in time to see the impromptu Fastball Special---Belly Blaster--Kitty Missile---go soaring through the air to a glorious finish on the last of the attacking robots.

"Hn.. .Now tha'ts a new one.."

With that, the situation seems to be winding down and for the first time he starts taking stock of civilian injuries and casualties. There's the faintest narrowing of his eyes and tightening of his lips but after a simple head shake he begins trundling heavily in the direction of Blob, reaching out with a massive arm to shove a large pieve of rubble off of a parked car with a stunned mutant still inside of it, and also blissfully unaware of the existential crisis he just provoked in the man by simply being there.

"...Nice trick." he rumble towards the massive mutant. "Think you got Wolverine beat with that one..."

Jean Grey has posed:
The tide turns, slowly and then quickly, until at last, it seems the greatest threat has passed. Jean, first, has to make good on her promise of letting down the poor people who aren't used to RANDOMLY FLOATING against all laws of nature. She skirts over the top of the nearest buildings and lowers them to the ground a street over. <<Emergency services should be on their way. Stay together there, until police and EMS can get to you. If there's any seriously injured, I'll direct them.>>

She probably gets a lot of confused looks; these aren't people, by and large, used to having words blasted into their brains. But they're safe enough now, and more than a few can handle the afermath. It isn't as if New Yorkers in general aren't used to some bullshit...

Soon, she's flying back the short ways toward the site of the battle's aftermath, picking up Patty in need of the same kind of medical aid she was just briefing the bystanders on. "I don't," she answers, in person now, as she lands nearby. "How bad is it? They'll have emergency services on their way pretty soon. Or maybe we can find something around here, businesses are supposed to keep basic aid supplies on hand." 'Supposed to' is a key word here, with 'New York small businesses' and 'skirting legal regulations' going together like peanut butter and chocolate. But even after a brief bit of physically looking over Patty, Jean seems convinced that she's at least not going to immediately bleed to death.

<< If you don't want to be on TV, yes, you might want to go, >> she agrees with Quentin. << Patty is going to need to see EMS. I'll stay with her and handle any questioning. >> It isn't like Jean can't pull a Xavier when she needs to and do a little constructive 'mental editing.'

After that, she scans the air - and soon ground after that, to see where Rogue has gotten to.

Rogue has posed:
Having the bird's eye of the situation, Rogue was able to quickly ascertain the situation seemed to be relenting, and the robots seemed to have decided they had picked the wrong fight? Something about this felt pretty off to the Belle, but as she swept around the street, looking for people in need of her manner of help, she came to see the situation was steadily settling all around.

"This poor damn town, can't ever catch a break." She states, passing by the ledge she'd left their stuff at.

When Jean searches for her in the air, she'll find Rogue sweeping around a fallen wall, zipping right above the rubble, and coming to land with a crunch of her rubber boot soles upon the debris strewn ground. "What a cluster f--" Rogue cuts herself off, as she offers Jean her drink back. "You okay, Sloan?" She asks Patty, her own drink given a little testing shake. "You want a sip of Banana Blast?" She asks the student, offering her the cup with the silly pink and yellow straw poking out of the top.

Victor Creed has posed:
Launched into the distance by the Blob's blubber, Victor Creed landed farther away than even he could possibly have suspected.

But somehow, true to his direction, Fred had put him far closer to the scent that he had been pursuing.

The bloodbath may be behind them, but when Sabretooth's quarry is ahead, that just means that blood bath has yet to begin...

Patty Sloan has posed:
"I think I can get back to the school. I haven't seen how bad it is. Here what do you think Dr. Grey?" She turns to show the back of her left shoulder. There is a good three inch round laser burn in her shoulder. Her skin is pretty well charred from it. She is clearly running on Shock and Adrenaline. "I gotta get my car back to the school." She comments

Then there is Rogue. She smiles, "I'll be alright. Not gonna die today at least. I really need to get stronger with my powers." She comments as she looks a little woosy. "I think I'll pass on that banana blast."

Quentin Quire has posed:
<<Yeah, really don't do too well on television, but I'm sure you and Rogue can make an impression.>> Quentin replies to Jean as he gathers up the crushed Sentinel <<I'm going to see if this thing has anything useful left on it...>>

"Hey, good job out there." Quentin says to Patty before she's led off to EMS. Spinning the sentinel-sphere over his palm like a basketball, he moves off and disappears into the alleys of Mutant Town.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
It's a mess, but it could have been a lot worse. There are casualties, but nowhere near as bad as they could have been. Of the Sentinels.. There's plenty of scrap, sizzled circuits, and busted up servos. Plenty of weapons that had been scavenged and kludged together. The units were of varying designs; they had different weapons, power systems, armor, and integrated electronics. Rather than it seeming like they had all been assembled from a hodge-podge of whatever was at hand, it was like..

The assembling of numerous different types. Tests. Seeing how each bit worked and what it did well. Or didn't do well.

It had definitely been monitored. And recorded. And would lead to improvements.

And Victor had a scent.. Someone might want to follow up on that.