18752/Skatepark Scuttle

Skatepark Scuttle
Date of Scene:	07 August 2024
Location:	Underground Skatepark
Synopsis:	A Skatepark Showdown turns into an attempted Queen-napping and even that goes really really poorly. Poor Reavers. Two dead, several captured. And Lorna is the mutant bae.
Cast of Characters:	Joshua Foley, Martinique Wyngarde, Eddie Brock, Vivian Vision, Aria Seraphine, Harper Row, Clarice Ferguson, Lorna Dane, Natasha Cranston, Bishop
Cast of NPCs:	Michelangelo

---

Joshua Foley has posed:
Deep in the heart of the sewer system, at an intersection city's underground labyrinth met in a sprawling spillway, a hidden gem thrived: a skatepark drenched in graffiti and illuminated by wall-mounted lights. This secret spot, a retrofitted paradise of concrete and steel, was the go-to haunt for skaters who craved the raw, gritty essence of the underground scene. The rumble of the streets above, muffled by layers of concrete, formed a rhythmic backdrop to the chaos below.

Today, the vibe was electric. Word had spread fast: Mondo Gecko was challenging Michaelangelo to a head-to-head skate-off. The underground skatepark was buzzing with excitement, filled with skaters and spectators eager to witness this epic showdown. The ramps, bowls, and rails gleamed under the harsh lights, casting long shadows that danced with every movement.

Mondo Gecko, with his vibrant green scales and radical '80s punk outfit, was ready to shred. His skateboard, adorned with neon graphics, seemed like an extension of his own rebellious spirit. Michaelangelo, the party-loving Ninja Turtle, stood opposite him. His orange bandana fluttered as he spun his board underfoot, totally stoked for the competition.

"Yo, Mikey! You ready to get schooled?" Mondo called out, a cocky grin on his face.

Michaelangelo smirked, flipping his board up to his hand with a swift kick. "In your dreams, Gecko. Let's see what you got!"

As the competitors prepared to begin, someone had brought a boom-box and started to play a techno-vibe beat to go with the skaters' planned vibe. The competition started with Mondo Gecko dropping in from the highest ramp, executing a flawless ollie to tail slide on the rail. The crowd roared as he transitioned smoothly into a series of kickflips and grinds, his movements sharp and precise. He finished with a massive air over the bowl, landing with a perfect revert.

Michaelangelo was up next. With a swift drop-in, he launched into a series of mind-blowing tricks-a kickflip to Indy grab, transitioning seamlessly into a manual across the ledge. The Turtle's flow was unparalleled, every trick linked with fluid grace. He hit the bowl with a frontside 540, the crowd's cheers echoing through the tunnels as he nailed the landing.

It is during this first round that Joshua arrived with Aria. The golden mutant was a little late, but he was apologizing to Aria. "It smells a little, but after the rain, it's usually better!" he promises her as he finds a place to stand and watch.

"Yo, Josh!" was yelled at him from the crowd and he gave a little wave and a laugh. "I've been a medic down here more than once." he admitted to the angel at his side. There's about 20 people watching, mutants from all walks of life really. They are the ones that aren't the 'Tik-Tok' ready variety. They have deformities, or don't fit in on the surface. But they're just as human and want to have fun as well.

Martinique Wyngarde has posed:
Martinique Wyngarde has less call to be in New York these days, but sometimes things need doing. After all, good old fashioned hits do still happen in this city, even if the gangsters' names sound different now.

And it happens that today's hit is taking her through a very indirect route BACK. Rather than go out the way she came, down in here she comes.

Dressed in her black bodysuit, she's traveling with guns on her hips, she moves stealthily, comes around a corner... and ends up at a skate park? Weird.

Eddie Brock has posed:
Eddie Brock is wandering around, taking some pictures here and there, pausing to write on a notepad. That Spider-Man piece was a big hit on the Eddie Brock Report, and since there hasn't been too much news to report on that the bigger outlets didn't already get, here Eddie is to represent the underground. He gets a quote here and there ("totally rad, dude!"), shrugging slightly and writing that down anyway.

Fiddling with the settings on his camera, he aims the lens forward, focusing nearby, then far off. He snaps a picture of a golden dude looking like he's apologizing for bringing his partner here, not to publish, just to test the settings. When the competition begins, Eddie moves towards the bowl and starts snapping pics in earnest. The best ones are of course in mid-air, mid-flip, and it might take some tinkering later to get those done.

Vivian Vision has posed:
Vivian Vision is not really the pun skater sort. Especially not considering she has a wicker picnic basket with her.

But she /is/ dating a badass Gotham street smart punk. And given Harper has come all the way from Gotham. Well it'd be awfully selfish if she was picky about the places they hang out while she's visiting.

Besides she can do her important GIRL work from anywhere in the hemisphere. She's a walking, talking, wi-fi hotspot after all.

Dressed in canary yellow cargo pants, a green t-shirt, and some comfortable sneakers she would look pretty unusual at the best of times. Except her skin is also a rose red and she's got a solar gemstone in her forehead. Plus green hair, which everyone knows is the best colour for hair!

"Are you sure this is the right skatepark Harper?" she muses. "We could find one which has actual picnic tables. And is not.. also a sewer.."

Aria Seraphine has posed:
'The angel at his side' might not be the first thing people think about Aria as she stands next to the man with the metallic, golden skin. She's pretty enough to be -- at least, she's pretty enough to pass for what people think of as having fallen from Heaven. She also has 'the voice of an Angel.' So, there's some evidence to suggest to the casual observer that she might have won the genetic lottery.

But, it's not like she's sporting a 50-foot wingspan or anything. She mostly just seems like a teenage girl, wearing a cropped black t-shirt that shows off her midriff under a heavy canvas jacket, a pair of baggy and ripped blue jeans, and red high top Chuck Taylors. Her golden brown hair has been pulled half-up away from her face, and her fingers are interlaced with Josh's, at least for the moment.

There _is_ something... 'else' about her, though. Those capable of sensing or seeing divine auras would know what it is immediately -- her only remaining, permanently visible mark of being angelic. To those unable to see it, but without their minds shielded, it would likely _feel_ it. A pull, almost magnetic. She radiates a genuinely kind warmth that draws people to her as if it would be the easiest thing in the world to imagine her as some kind of Disney Princess with birds perched on her arms and baby deer eating out of her hands.

To some, that aura makes her a target. To others, it makes her a friend.

To Joshua Foley? Well, she looks up at him, her smile beaming, and tucks herself in a little closer to his side, brushing her shoulder up against his rip cage as she pulls their joined hands back a little.

"I've smelled a LOT worse. Trust me," she muses, her too-big, too-blue eyes sparkling.

So maybe she is a _little_ ethereal. A little otherworldly. It just something about that aura that makes her seem like she might have infinite patience, infinite warmth.

The call out to him warrants an amused laugh, a pleasant sound that bubbles up like a song of pure happiness, almost child-like in her joy. "You're popular." Her smile joins it, growing until her eyes are squinting at the corners. "Wait.. you're taking me to one of your _regular_ _hangouts_?" she teases, her grin tugging just a little more to one side. "You really _do_ like me."

She really is quite teasing as she lets her gaze rake over the rest of what's happening, spotting the duel and suddenly patting Josh's arm frantically. "It's a Ninja Turtle!!"

Apparently, she's a fan.

Harper Row has posed:
Harper Row is off duty, on a date. Gotham casual with a whiff of anti-establishment. It should fit in well down here. Hair up and dressed down. Faux hawk out and piercings in. While she'd rather be topside, she's got nothing against a little urban spelunking for fighting the good fight or taking in a fun sight. This event should provide.

"Jeez, I've ~still~ got a good signal off you." Harper murmers arm linked with Vivian, her free hand polishing her phone screen with a thumb. "...What? Oh, yeah, I'm sure. Sure it's less accessible, and not as sweet up the shnoz, but that just adds to the street cred! Oooo, look, things are already cookin, good lookin."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
It's not every day Clarice Ferguson goes lurking about New York's sewers.

It's strictly an 'every few weeks' thing at the most frequent. But when you're a mutant freedom fighter for the Brotherhood, you make sure not to forget that not all mutants live up in Mutant town.

You remember the Morlocks exist, and so sometimes you check in on them. And not just to give classes on proper knife fighting techniques. But mostly for that. Which is why, while Clarice is decked out in a snug leather jacket and pants, looking for all the world like she should have a motorcycle down in the sewer tunnels, only one of her sleeves has a bracer of knives snugged around her forearm, the other one is empty.

Because if Clarice is going to teach you to stab someone, she's not going to tell you you gotta provide your own knives.

And while these brief jaunts into the sewers have given her a basic familiarity with their layout, they don't make the sound of excited crowd or trashtalking mutants.

And while she might not know what's drawing a crowd to /the sewers/, she does know you need a good point of ingress and egress to get a crowd gathered in the sewers.

It's like a shortcut, she assures herself, as she steps out into the skatepark, eyebrows lifting high. Huh.

She was not expecting a subterranean skatepark.

Lorna Dane has posed:
It's been years since the last time Lorna was on a skateboard in earnest. It was a great way to kill time and a fine excuse to be anywhere but home when 'home' was an endless barrage of passive aggression intolerance from an aunt who would've preferred to care for anyone but a green-haired reminder of the world's most infamous mutant's casual destruction of her family; graduating to superheroics put a damper on more mundane forms of risk-seeking behavior in short order, however, as she could only bear so many bruises and scrapes.

She has always maintained a degree of interest, however-- and after spending the bulk of the last few years living around Mutant Town, mutant skate culture is just one of the myriad strands of expression she's had the pleasure of being exposed to. For the sake of maintaining a low profile, she has her green mane pulled into a bun and hidden as best as it possibly could be beneath a black baseball cap, paired with shades and dark, baggy clothing. Cheering periodically, her eyes flick towards each newcomer in turn, tensing momentarily until she's confident that they aren't a threat. Josh and Martinique get brisk, surreptitious nods; Clarice, a muted smile and green-nailed beckoning.

Natasha Cranston has posed:
            Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of Man?

    Derek Reese had been an idiot. He's willing to admit that now, at least to himself. Senator Creed's speeches had sounded convincing and reasonable and he'd met some 'friends' at the rally who'd been sympathetic and understanding and explained the need to protect 'pure' humanity from Those Freaks.

     He'd never had many friends before, and when he joined the Reavers he'd suddenly had more than he could count. Camaraderie, fellowship, a Cause that mattered... Until his 'friends' took him along on an initiation -- which involved literally stoning a mutant girl.

    He'd taken one look at her terrified face and everything he'd believed had come crashing down around his head.

    His 'friends' had noticed his hesitation before he himself had, and all of a sudden there were knives at his back and his throat, and snarled accusations of treason.

    And then there had been laughter from nowhere, and the shadows came alive, and before he'd been able to collect his thoughts his erstwhile friends were down, the girl had fled, and something tall and inhuman stared down at him, judging him with piercing blue eyes.

    He'd made the right decision when it counted. But there was still a debt owed.

Hersnd as he stood with the rest of the Reavers, hearing the 'purge' planned, he knew what to do.

    There was no number on this phone, nor a ringtone. It simply connected, after a moment. "Report".

    "... Brooklyn. Underground skatepark in the sewer system. Someone told them about it, said there were mutants there." He rattles off the address of the entry point. "... They're talking about setting an example. Tonight."

    There is only the briefest of pauses. "Understood. You've done well." and the line disconnects.

    Several miles away Natasha puts her phone down, thinking for a moment before picking it back up. "Benny? I'll need a pick-up."

    Hopefully there'll be enough time to warn those in charge to expect an attack. If not... They may need an extra pair of guns.

Joshua Foley has posed:
It's not Martinique's fault she took a wrong turn. But here she is now, as a mutant with a single eye comes over to her. "Hi, I'm Eyeclops!" he greets her and offers her a can of budget American Beer. "Ain't seen you around here. But, you are a sight to behold." Yep. She's getting hit on. Sorry, Martinique!

Round after round, the two skaters pushed each other to new heights. Mondo's aggressive style contrasted perfectly with Michaelangelo's smooth, laid-back approach. They traded trick for trick, each run more daring than the last.

"Dude." someone says as he comes past Eddie. He looks normal enough, but when he talks. he has two tongues and two sets of teeth. "You with the Daily Planet? Have you met Superman? That'd be so rad. Speaking of rad, check out what Mikey has planned!"

As the final round approached, Mondo Gecko pulled out all the stops. He launched off a quarter pipe, flipping his board twice before catching it and landing in a nose manual. He transitioned into a grind along a graffiti-covered rail, sparks flying as metal met concrete. For his finale, he executed a death-defying McTwist, landing with a triumphant roar from the crowd.

With Aria realizing what Josh has done, all he can do is laugh. "When I developed the skin, they were the first ones to take me in and dhelp me get over my past..." he explains as he squeezes Aria's hand with affection. "So yeah, this is a regular haunt. I'm good on a skateboard. But not as good as those two." he confesses. He's dressed in a paramedic T-shirt with blue jeans and tennis shoes. When Lorna nods to him, he dips his head in a momentary bow, and a whisper to Aria for her ears only. "That's Queen Lorna of Genosha. I work for her as well."

Harper and Vivian are noted - because they don't really stand out, they more than fit in. "You look amazing!" a couple of people say to the pair. "Love the faux hawk. And the gem!"

Well, there is one now, Clarice! And it's a busy place. There's beer (or cokes for the kids). A street vendor has set up a food stand, selling elephant ears and takiyaki.

Not to be outdone, Michaelangelo stepped up for his final run. He started with a switch stance, launching into a series of impossibly complex tricks-varial flips, nose slides, and a perfect nollie 360 flip. The crowd was on their feet as he approached the bowl, hitting it with a massive 900 spin, landing clean and smooth.

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, the echoes bouncing off the concrete walls. It was too close to call-both skaters had given it their all, leaving everything on the makeshift battlefield.

Mondo Gecko and Michaelangelo met in the middle, slapping a high-five. "Not bad, Turtle," Mondo said, panting slightly.

"Right back at ya, Gecko," Michaelangelo replied, grinning wide. "Same time next week?"

There's no rule for winners or losers, really, it was a hell of a show they put on. As the pair leaves, it's announced that it's time for the free skate! Mutants start taking to the skate park, enjoying it to it's fullest with various levels of skill.

Deeper in the tunnels of the sewers there's a rumble. Maybe the subway that runs nearby.

Bishop has posed:
Skateparks and skating competitions are hardly the sort of thing to attract the attention of one Lucas Bishop, X.S.E. Commander, Future-Cop and X-Man. Mutant affairs, on the other hand, are very much in his wheelhouse . The security commander's incessant tendency to monitor broadcasts, observe the patterns of activity of the less then sane and even less then legal elements out there and to be on the ready for threats against his kind from both within and without, has brought him forth from his usual haunt at the X-Men's Security and War Room and down here into the Morlock tunnels deep beneath New York. He hasn't quite put his finger on what trouble may lay ahead but there's been enough chatter and traffic on such frequencies that he's just cause to at least take a look.

Some quick business in District X is attended to and he then finds himself prowling the tunnels with practiced ease. It's been a minute since he was last here, aiding SHIELD itself in a mission that had placed Morlocks in the potential crosshairs of extreme danger and now, once more, he moves about like some dour sentinel keeping watch over those who are the most forgotten and the most overlooked of mutant kind.

The popping music, celebratory sounds and grinding of skateboard wheels against the concrete of the tunnels? Now that -does- surprise him a touch.

Needless to say, he looks out of place somewhat as he strides into the park and looks about, all dressed in a long jacket with his long hair pulled back, massive frame bearing the uniform and symbol of the X-Men upon his belt, red shades feeding information to him from their uplink to the computer back at Xavier and large X.S.E. rifile on his back and smaller guns holsterd on his large frame. Not -exaaaacctttlly- looking like he came here to perform the latest in skate tricks to wow the crowd.

He probably could though!

"Hmph..." he grunts, surprise fading away as he takes in the gathering and then begins to move along the perimeter, watchful and tense but eyeing everyone in turn, especially those that stand out. Indeed a certain flash of green catches his attention. She's done a good job of hiding it, naturally, but a futuristic-cop can be fairly observant and misses little. Thus his footfalls begin to take him in the direction of the Genoshan monarch.

Eddie Brock has posed:
Eddie lowers his camera when he's ACCOSTED. "Nah, I'm local. Spider-Man guy." he replies quickly, not trying to miss any of the skating going on just because he's forced into conversation. A picture here and there, a couple with a picnic basket, several people carrying guns and other some such weaponry, a few of the skaters again, the sovereign ruler of the nation of Genosha, and finally an actual honest-to-God X-Man. Quick crowd shot and that'll do it for the photography. Nobody's asked to pose for the pictures, because that's not what press is for. This. Is. Serious.

<< Eddie. There are too many individuals on edge here. Something is wrong. >> speaks the symbiote, in the back of Eddie's mind at all times. Also on his shirt, because that's the disguise it usually takes on. Just, the voice in his head is louder than the shirt. "Yeah, I've noticed that too, buddy." Eddie replies, assuming nobody will hear him over the techno beats and cheers.

Martinique Wyngarde has posed:
Martinique Wyngarde is going to take a discreet out of the way place. But APPARENTLY her outfit attracted some attention of its own. The one-eyed mutant approaches, and she laughs. "Well thank you."

She will, in fact, take the beer. Checks the can, dusts off the top. "What is this place? I don't expect something this big underground, unless someone is hiding something. But this just looks like... kids."

And she will drink the beer. It doesn't really hurt AFTER the mission, after all. Just before.

Vivian Vision has posed:
"Oh you know it's not the /smell/ which bothers me," Viv points out. "I can just turn off my 'Human default' preferences for aromas. It's just. Very drippy and without adequate comfortable seating."

You can't even put a picnic blanket down. It'll soak up who knows what!

"We can always have the picnic after?" she says hopefully. Because, thanks to her internet connection, she's fully aware of /every/ potential infection someone can obtain in the sewer. And who wants to look after someone who has obtained a super case of food poisoning.... "I assume you're here to... do some grind and slide tricks? Or do an Ollie? Perhaps even /several/ ollies?"

You can look up the terms. But that does not mean you understand the sport. Mostly her research dead ends in a link to Superman by Goldfinger.

There are polite greetings and compliments returned to any of the skaters who come over and say hi. Because it'd be rude to ignore people.

There's a pause before she looks at Harper again. "You do know how to skateboard right?"

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna only trades eye contact with the XSE officer for a split-second before a roll of thunder demands her attention.

This time, the tension never really recedes. Electric green sparks behind her right lens while the bun bulges against its binding; the chains dangling from her hip rattle gently and a sharp, keening tone rolls off of studs and buckles.

After a couple seconds spent staring, she drops her gaze, touches two fingers beneath her jaw, and gently shakes a couple of nearby shoulders. < Polaris to all points, > crackles across any active Brotherhood comms in the area-- as well as Bishop's, courtesy of a little tweaking, < Something fucked up is about to happen; condition is Yellow. >

For 'potential danger'.

Once that subvocalized message has been sent, she hisses, "Hey, you guys have somewhere safe to be, right--?" to the owners of those shoulders, hoping to begin the process of drawing people out of the park without raising too much panic. "I know a guy with a food truck, a couple blocks away, and he loves giving free food to skate fans."

Aria Seraphine has posed:
"I can see why. It seems like a pretty great crowd," Aria muses to Josh, her voice carried on a whisper of a laugh as her eyes keeps roaming. There's a LOT to take in, and she seems to be having a great time already. She's practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

She's _happy_. It's impossible not to see it. Not just... content. Not blowing off steam after a long work day. Not relieved to be away from the routine of the job. Happy in the way that few adults can really appreciate once they hit a certain age and the cynicism of daily life has really taken hold.

The man at her side offering a little bow is enough to bring her attention even away from the orange-masked Ninja Turtle who was captivating most of it. Blue eyes track his attention to a woman in a baseball cap, flickering back to Josh for his explanation and then back to Lorna again with a warm smile.

"So it is," she whispers back to Josh. She makes no other spectacle about it, though. She doesn't even invade Lorna's privacy with a lingering gaze. Instead, she lets her gaze roam politely again...

Eyeclops. She watches that exchange for just a moment with an amused curl of her lips. Then there's a... reporter? And Harper and Vivian getting gushed at. There are SO MANY PEOPLE. And they're all different sizes and shapes and colors. But everyone's smiling. Along with most of the others without precognition or a tap into additional intel, Aria is pleasantly oblivious to any sort of impending threat.

"So when are you going to teach me to skate?" she wonders aloud, gaze tossed up at Josh even as she releases his hand long enough to join in with the crowd applauding the end of the skating competition. "I am _not_ going off that big ramp any time soon. I may heal, but I _don't_ have a death wish." Not anymore, anyway.

Natasha Cranston has posed:
    The intersection is easy enough to find. Once there, however, the Shadow faces another problem -- while her abilities lend themselves very well to stealth and ambushes, warning people without creating a panic isn't her strong suit. Fortunately, she spots a familiar face in the crowd. Hopefully they have their communicator with them...

    <<< Bluebird, Shadow. The Reavers are aware of this location and are enroute. Exact ETA unknown, but soon. Alert who you can without causing a premature panic. >>>

    The rumbling noise doesn't escape her attention, and she makes her way to where she recognizes Bishop, fading into visibility as she steps out of the shadows behind him as if she'd been standing there all along. "At ease, soldier. I come with a warning: Reavers enroute."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
It usually takes an awful lot to surprise Clarice. One of Domino's lucky breaks unfolding in front of her. Victor Creed saying 'thank you'. You know, real crazy dramatic stuff.

Lorna Dane in disguise at an underground skatepark? Well, even if that finger wasn't crooking to beckon the Genoshan bodyguard, the sheer surprise would have drawn her through the crowd like a figurative knife.

Because interrupting the skate contest with a sudden portal would be gauche. And so she falls in step beside and slightly behind Lorna, hissing out softly, "I think you're supposed to tell me when you're sneaking off incognito. On account of the bodyguarding?"

Of course, then Lorna's doing her... admittedly kind of scary Queen of Magnets thing and even before she's broadcasting, Blink knows what that means. Trouble.

Which has her eyes darting around, plotting angles of escape, attack, and defense. Not necessarily in that order. The best defense is a good offense after all.

Plus Lorna would give her That Angry Look if she just grabbed the boss and teleported her out of here. So fine... fine... wait, watch for the trouble, deal with the trouble.

Totally doable. And she even does it without giving Bishop a 'You better not mess with the boss' glower before she's pressing back to back with Lorna.

Harper Row has posed:
Harper chews on a lip piercing and idly lifts a sneaker to take a look at what specimens she's collected so far. "Mmnnn..." A wry grin and she scrunches her nose almost cutely. "We still can, just standing, we just won't bother with the blanket. Like pigeons do." That last part she deploys with the worst Morgan Freeman impersonation.

A few blinks, distracted by a few greetings, which she raises a hand to return a kind gesture to. "Do I know how to skateboard? Well yes I do, my dear. Back when super intelligent dinosaurs roamed the earth. Which has happened a few times this year, even ~before~ that I have done a little of that. My knees and elbows are signatured with an assortment of past misadventures. Not to mention my caboose. Though that's scar tissue under the bridge..." she gives Vivian a tug by the arm. "I'll show you a trick later. Developed it myself. Impressed all the cuties back in high school. Which, let's face it, is why I even tried to get g-"

Harper pauses, raising a finger up to plug an ear, or depress a earbud a little tighter to her eardrum. She listens with a frown.

She halts and faces Vivian. "Did you overhear that? About the baddies incoming? I trust the source. Panic down here would be pandemonium."

Bishop has posed:
Reavers...

Bishop's eyes are hidden by his shades but the way his 'M' tattoo crinkles and the furrowing of his brow should make his expression fairly clear to Natasha. Message received.

The timing is perfect as well as Lorna had -just- chimed in over their linked comm sys.

His next words would be audible to Natasha even though his deep rumbling voice resounds primarily into the comm link.

"Lorna. Reavers. ETA unknown. You'll need to be fast. You're the only one present that can put up enough defensive shields to protect the civilians from incoming fire. You may need to be prepared to do a wide area bubble. Post any active combatants that happen to be present near the entrances and if you have any teleporters on hand they should start getting locks on everyone. We may not have much time. >>

He then turns to nod his head towards the companion near him while reaching into his jacket to collect one of his smaller X.S.E. blasters.
ll - small compared to the average Cable gun at least.

"Thank you.." is said towards Natasha at the end of that. "We need to avoid a panic and a stampede."

Joshua Foley has posed:
That sense of unease seems to be spreading. It's an invisible tension in the air. Maybe it's because of Eddie's camera, maybe it's because the Queen of Genosha is down here. It's from that same queen that the first warning comes out over the comms and it's Joshua that stiffens in alert next to Aria. "Go be near Lorna." he says quietly, "We may be needed." << Elixir present. Have another healer with me. Will be on standby. >>

As she speaks to others, when they start to recognize that Lorna is giving them orders to leave, they nod, tagging friends to take with them. And while Mondo Gecko may be considering leaving the Ninja Turtle is not. "This our home, yo. We'll fight for it." he says with a grin. "Not a party without a Turtle, after all!"

Maybe it's that's rumbling noise. But as it grows, soon it's felt. Tank tracks on concrete. Metal on metal, skin on skin. The first attack comes in the form of a fired grenade that is meant to close off one end of the tunnel and create a natural choke point. And from the shadows, they apparoach.

First is Bonebreaker, a monstrous sight, his upper body human is grotesquely melded to the mechanical lower half of a tank. The grinding noise of his treads echoes through dark corridors, a prelude to his arrival. His human torso is scarred and battered, a testament to countless battles and experiments, while his mechanical lower half exudes raw, unstoppable power.

At his flank is Skullbuster. His appearance is a chilling blend of human and machine, with skeletal features accentuated by metallic enhancements. His face, partially obscured by a sinister mask, reveals lifeless, glowing eyes that pierce the darkness. His limbs, reinforced with cybernetics, move with unnatural precision, making him a relentless predator.

Following him is Pretty Boy, who despite his name, is a vision of horror. His face, twisted into a permanent, artificial smile, hides the true extent of his sadistic nature. His limbs, elongated and eerily thin, are laced with wires and mechanical joints, allowing for unnaturally swift movements. His ability to interface with technology only adds to his unsettling presence, as he can manipulate his surroundings to trap and torment his victims. "Well well well, Joshie boy!" he calls out to the golden mutant. "Heard your mum was gone, so we figured we'd pay you a welfare check!"

Joshua frowns. "Not this again." he groans, shrinking down a bit, considering how to retreat from the situation if the Reavers were REALLY after him again.

"He's only a side-quest. Our real prize is already here..." This comes from Lady Deathstrike, with her elongated, razor-sharp claws, is the embodiment of mechanical horror. Her enhancements have left her body a twisted, metallic nightmare, with claws that glint menacingly in the dark. Her movements are both graceful and terrifying, a deadly ballet of slicing metal and cold, remorseless efficiency. Her face, a mask of fury and vengeance, is framed by strands of wires and synthetic sinew. She points in the direction of Lorna. "There's our target. I just did not expect her to have this much company. It's a good thing we brought our own."

And with that, there's at least a dozen cyborgs that show. Former anti-mutant racists and bigots that have been melded into a mix of man and machine, armed with assault rifles and other weapons of carnage as they prepare to assault the Skatepark and capture as many as possible!

Joshua looks to Aria for a moment and squeezes her hand, "Do you think you can help keep the crowd calm?" he asks her, before sending a message to Lorna if Aria's power can indeed help!

The crowd is growing frightened, but with so many powerful allies, it can't be that bad, right?

Martinique Wyngarde has posed:
Martinique Wyngarde downs the rest of her beer, and tosses the can backed to the one-eyed gentlemen who can't keep his eye off of her. "Thanks, buddy. But it looks like something is happening."

As uh, well, a grenade goes off. She pushes One Eye out of the way, nudging him toward relative safety, and takes an elevated position. Guns drawn. Once in position, her eyes go to the Queen, and then to Josh. Noticing Josh's call for help, she closes her eyes a moment, and intently projects an illusion to the weaker-minded spectators that they strongly sense that they will be safe if they move away and be very patient, because a screen is being set up over in the far corner of the skate park from what's going on here. Hopefully that gets them moving in an orderly way.

And with that settled, she checks her handguns and is ready for trouble.

Eddie Brock has posed:
Trouble afoot? Bonebreakers and Skullbusters? This looks like a job for.. for.. Well, Superman isn't here. Spider-Man is indisposed. "Damn it." Eddie Brock mutters to himself. << Are we smashing cyborgs, Eddie? >> the symbiote asks, a hint of eagerness in its voice. And it's not a subtle hint. In the ruckus between non-combatants leaving as requested, ordered, influenced or convinced, Eddie manages to find a quiet corner with lower lighting than the rest of the skate park. Almost immediately, he suits up. It's not exactly a phone booth, but that's SO 1970s.

Venom flings himself out of the corner at a speed that most people would be surprised by his appearance and would not link Eddie's disappearance to Venom's appearance. Because that's how this ALWAYS works. He sticks to a pillar and waits there, camouflaged in the darkness and by the natural camo ability of the symbiote. Gotta figure out what these intruders are after before acting on it. Like Spider-Man would?

Vivian Vision has posed:
As a super advanced synthetic being with a communications suite that can peek into military channels like they're a cheap baby monitor Vivian Vision probably could be snooping on all these signals. But the thing is. It'd be really rude. So she doesn't. Although that's not to say the sudden flurry of encrypted communications doesn't register.

Far from it. And as people generally don't all start making secure calls at the same time unless /bad things/ are afoot. It gets bumped up the chain of her awareness in nanoseconds.

"I didn't spy on the message," she informs Harper. Then with a wink she adds "But I heard the sound from your earpiece. Allow me a moment and I shall engage crisis management protocols." Her mental focus splits into hundreds of subdivisions. Charting New York city maps, surface and subterranean, and then using superhero channels to the emergency services. This isn't a /rapid/ process. If anything it's very carefully co-ordinated and discreet. Because she has no way of knowing if the Reavers have connections to first responders!

But it will mean that if medical care or a police cordon is required it'll happen far more effectively than if left to random chance. It also means she can get permission to check local security & traffic cameras to calculate the safest places to evacuate people. If need be she can even send instructions directly into civilian cellphones and guide them out.

"I can deploy a holographic baffle if you need to suit up?" she asides to Harper. Her grip on the picnic basket adjusting, as if she was considering handing it to Harper. "Although there does appear to be a large tank over there."

There is a /pout/.

"We /might/ have to postpone our date." Her density increases, boosting strength and durability, and also sending spiderweb cracks out from her feet. "I do hope for their sakes they see reason and surrender peacefully." Because you do not want to see what happens to someone who spoils an AI's exactingly planned picnic....

Natasha Cranston has posed:
    "... Irritatingly punctual," the Shadow mutters, sparing Bishop one more glance before drawing a pair of guns. "Normally I'd offer a pack of thugs like this to surrender, but today that's not mine to decide." A significant glance at Lorna, and then the Shadow turns, takes a step -- and between one eyeblink and the next, they're gone.

Bishop has posed:
"Cybernetic mercenaries and a woman laced with metal arriving to attempt to kidnap the literal mistress of magnetism... This must be one of those situations they call 'so ludicrous it just might work..'"

Bishop's voice is deadpan as he emerges from the rubble strewn cloud of dust that billowed over the area from the collapsing of the entrance.

A quick glance is given towards The Shadow at their words and then he looks away to get a quick overview of the ceiling and walls of the under ground enclave. By that point The Shadow has vanished but Bishop's concern seems to now be on ...can this place actually -take- a full on fire fight with the forces currently arrayed here. It is not lost on him that power present could very quickly bring the entire place down on their headssome precision isn't maintained or this isn't brought to an end quickly.

But they are not without options at least.

His eyes track over each of the reavers present and then his deep voice commands, "Stand down."

His blaster lifts up, training its target on Lady Deathstrike as the hum of energy begins to build up. A few bold steps are taken as he moves forward and then comes to a stop. "There's still time for you to back off before this situation becomes unnecessarily messy for everyone present."

Harper Row has posed:
Harper stares at Vivian, and her own mind, while sharp, runs at a much slower clock-speed.

She does reach out to take the pic-a-nic basket from her. "I didn't come with extra gear of that kind." she rasps. "Yeah, let's postpone. I don't know much about whatever is incoming, but from the name it doesn't sound like jolly good-natured pirates."

"Do what you gotta do, babe. I'll identify a good exit and try and direct the flow of fellow Muggles."

After a brief second, she darts in close and gives Vivian a peck on the cheek before heading off to help in her own way. Hard not to eye the shadows suspiciously, given who tipped her off about the danger, and the adrenaline and tension building. Seeing Viv like that also tends to play with the Fight/Flight response. Tends to put colour in the cheeks.

Lorna Dane has posed:
"These people need someone to keep them safe while they're running," Lorna tells the grinning turtle, her expression and voice as stern and unyielding as tungsten. "Trust me: whoever made the call to send the Reavers here, today, fucked up more than they could've possibly known, becau--"

Time is running out, fast. A tunnelmouth collapses; not an insurmountable obstacle if it were the only one, but it has friends.

Dozens of gleaming, hate-fueled friends with a razorwire bundle of death at their head.

So Polaris has to leave the Turtle to do what he will and focus:

< Blink: What Bishop said: start getting civilians out. Elixir: Triage. Mastermind: Fuck their cohesion: if their senses can't screen you out, then sow some chaos and get them too mixed up to focus on civs. Bishop: Be ready to shoot a lot of people in the head. >

Lorna's fingers lace behind her neck. Only now does she begin to stand, drawing a deep breath until she's on her feet and her lungs are bursting.

And the air is crackling, distorting, birthing protective fields of electromagnetism around groups of civilians.

And the shades shatter, revealing hooded eyes flooding with viridescent lightning as bunned hair bursts free into a thick, rippling mane of curls and waves.

"'Company'," she echoes, distant and layered, overlapping a dozen times over and laced with static as her voice resonates from metallic surfaces.

"No-- this?" She sweeps a hand out, indicating the heavily armed terrorborgs flooding the skatepark. "This is a cascade failure."

A sharp and sudden jerk draws her arm to the end of its natural arc as her fingers splay wide and tense. One Reaver - the one her eyes are locked upon - collapses into violent convulsions, the network of dermal plating, joint reinforcements, wiring, and countless other components comprising her combat augmentations unspooling from around--

    -- within--

        -- through every point of her body, coursing towards the Queen of Genosha in a gleaming array of spirals that ultimately converge into swirling around her limbs.

"This, meanwhile, is an object lesson," she states as Reaver cybernetics remold themselves into shades of green armor around Polaris' body, complete with a circlet bearing a rubescent bauble at the center.

Which - depending on how you look at it - is either an excellent accompaniment to Bishop's diplomacy or a gross tonal clash.

"A handful of you, it'll take me slightly longer to do that to. The rest? Fucked. Stand down."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
The rumbling grows louder, and in an instant, Blink has throwing knives from her bracer, slipped between her fingers and ready to fly. She's tensing, knees bending slowly, lowering her center of gravity and coiling to leap high.

And then tank tracks are heard... you do enough Mutant Freedom Fighting, or just live in pre-Mutant Government Genosha and you get used to that sound. But it's not just a tank. It's Bonebreaker.

Not that Clarice knows that. Who the hell's Bonebreaker? But that sure is some freakydeaky cyborg who is half man, half machine. ALL METAL!

Or at least that's how Blink thinks of him, complete with wicked guitar riff. Which is why she glances to Lorna and hisses out, "Do... do you think he learned about magnets in school? He couldn't have, right? Right?"

And then there's... also a metal guy. Well, that's definitely a choice.

And then there's Lady Deathstrike. She earns at least a genuinely wary glare.

And then a dozen also-cyborgs spill in and Clarice is reduced to a slow, measured sigh.

"Well, I guess it's true. You just can't teach stupid."

Her hand not holding lethal steel summons up a trio of javelins, thrown at the rear wall, furthest from the cyborgs, opening a trio of portals up to the surface. She's sure the civilians will figure out that being up on the street is preferable to sticking around.

And then Lorna gives the order, and Clarice groans just a little... and drops her throwing knives with chiming clatters of metal on floor.

Because while she can keep those portals open? She can also use javelins to teleport people individually.

She's just going to have a headache later. But hey, if need be, she'll take it out on the Reavers if they don't listen to the boss.

Aria Seraphine has posed:
'Go be near Lorna. We may be needed.'

Aria blinks slowly. Once. Twice. That was not at all the reaction she expected to asking him when he was going to teach her to skate. It wasn't like she was expecting him to drop everything and grab a board right that second, but ordering her away to go stand with a woman she doesn't even know? That has her suddenly looking a little... stricken.

Right up to the point that he calls himself 'Elixir,' announces _her_ power, and says they'll both be on 'standby'.

"What's happening?"

To say that Aria tries to keep a lower profile about her own abilities than Joshua does about his mutation is the understatement of the year. Joshua's gold. There's not a lot he can do to easily hide his mutation. But Aria? The gouges in her back where her wings used to be aren't visible unless she takes her shirt off, and even then, she can heal them over... for a time. She specifically tries not to make a spectacle of herself, because the last time a complete stranger found out she was an Angel by accident, things got... complicated.

But there's an explosion that fills the space with the bassy, concussive force of it's attempt to close an escape route. There's the sound of fighting. Tank tracks. Metal.

And then the arrival of the bad guys -- twisted cyborgs intent on mayhem and destruction. Death, too? Aria had to assume... especially as one of them calls directly out to Joshua, and her eyes go wide with dismay.

But the crowd is steadily growing more fearful, panicked, and _things_ were happening. The fight was steadily growing. Some people were joining it. Some people were fleeing from it.

"Josh..." There's a glimpse of fear in her own voice, tension thick as she squeezes her hand back. "If they're after you, you need to get as far away from them as you can. I'll... I'll do what I can. Do NOT let them get you. Do you understand me?"

Is that an _order_? Maybe she can be bossy, under all that warmth.

The way the Fallen Angel's divine aura works, she has to be seen or heard for it to have an affect. It stems from the notion of the Divine descending from Heaven with great wings and clouds and harps, instilling awe in the masses that behold them, but it isn't _just_ for that. Just as easily, she could manipulate that power to instill terrifying fear of her own, but today... today Aria will use it to help keep the crowd from causing even more deaths, more chaos, more catastrophe and from stampeding like a heard of spooked wildebeest.

Reluctantly dropping Josh's hand with a final squeeze, Aria is one of those moving to intercept the bulk of the flow back towards the surface, and when she finds a good spot that will make her _visible_ (the keyword being visible... which unfortunately makes her visible to everyone, good and bad), she climbs up on some fallen concrete that had just recently been used as makeshift seating and raises her arms out.

The effect might have been more impressive with her old, angelic wingspan, rising up into the air with a voice that could fill the chamber, but she makes do with what she has. Her aura shifts and grows, standing above the crowd and suddenly pushing an aura of calm -- and suddenly it's as if she might actually be surrounded by a halo of tranquil light. The shadows seem a little less terrifying (or perhaps not even there at all). The grime seems a little cleaner. The fear is still present, but it seems a little easier to conquer.

"Move peacefully but efficiently!" she shouts to the masses that move past her. "All will be well! Be gentle with each other! You will find safety!"

Joshua Foley has posed:
Well, okay FINE. Bishop makes an excellent point. And while Lady Deathstrike will concede this point MENTALLY, as if she's going to say someting out loud about this all. And she really was considering that when a scream interrupts from her flank. And a young woman, a blonde cheerleader who was angry when a mutant took her spot on the cheerleading team and now could kick hard and jump high thanks to the grasshopper like cybernetics she has screams and grabs her hips.

"HURTS! What is happening!?" Pretty blue eyes go wide as suddenly her lower body is ripped apart. The cybernetics and armor are removes, the jelly that was her legs and hips falling to the ground as she claws at the ground, screaming in pain and agony as she bleeds out.

Joshua takes a half-step forward. He wants to help. It's in his nature. He probably could save her if he was given permission and time. But he knows to hold his place at the moment, which draws a smirk from Pretty Boy. "Oh Joshie, what's this, this bleedin' heart shite was all about you! You on a new chain now?" Joshua's hands grip to the side in anger as he tries to figure it out.

There's no way to win this, Lady Deathstrike realizes. If they stay, it will be a blood bath. But she does need to try at least one thing. "I'll tell the Reavers to stand down and leave, Polaris..." she says, dragging her nails along the ground. "Just give us the golden boy and four other mutants of your choice. Cause I'm betting I can reach you before the gun boy there has a chance to gun me down. What do you say?"

The remaining Reavers, instead of deploying out, are tightening their circle. A pair of machineguns are aimed at Venom, while Bonecrusher revs up his chainsaw arms. They're trying to look threatening, while at the same time, ready to retreat at a word.

The evacuation is underway, between Clarice and Martinique, they are reaching the surface... or just appearing, all while Aria keeps them calm to lead as well. So many powers working together in concert is a beautiful thing to see.

Martinique Wyngarde has posed:
Martinique Wyngarde now will be motionless, perched in place. Guns drawn, ready to fire. She idly hops her aim from reaver to reaver, trying to identify the more fleshy bits of any of them near center of mass.

If Lorna so much as looks like she's thinking about giving the order, she'll start shooting.

Until then she waits. And with no pop tarts in sight, unfortunately.

Eddie Brock has posed:
<< They are aiming at us, Eddie. >> Venom tells his host. Perhaps unnecessarily, but it's good to have eachother's backs if you share one. He propels himself off his perch, feeling oddly calm about his next move. Which is essentially cannonballing into the two mooks with machine guns, crouching and popping up at another, only to pull them into a picture-perfect hurricanrana (it's a wrestling move look it up) and flip them into a fourth. This puts Venom face to face with Bonecrusher, his face-covering splitting open to reveal Venom's teeth, grinning at the prospect of a proper fight. The symbiote fighter doesn't speak, feeling so uncharacteristically calm about every move he could possibly make. It's more unsettling than being a completely innocent New Yorker bonded with a space alien for sustenance.

Vivian Vision has posed:
Free from the burden of the picnic basket Vivian begins to walk in the direction of the oncoming Reavers. It's not a fast walk. Each step sounds like a hammer hitting an anvil. THUD. THUD. THUD. Her course putting her in the path of Bonebreaker. She casually pulls her hair back into a ponytail as she strides forward.

Her golden eyes start to glow.

"I will give everyone one chance to surrender," she states. It's not a shout. But with the audio manipulation capabilities of her holographic subsystems she can project the sound. So no matter where the Reaver's are standing they'll hear her as if she was standing right next to them. "Anyone who does so will receive a fair trial and remain unharmed." A beats pause. "If not I am going to use extreme force."

The synthetic superhero cracks her knuckles.

Then, as if to make a point about speed and force, the intensity of those glowing eyes becomes a blinding flash. As a beam of light carves a line into the floor between the Reavers and the rest of the group. Lady Deathstrike might be fast. But nothing is faster than light.

Okay except for the Flash and maaaaaaaybe bad news.

Bishop has posed:
Okay, so Bishop and Lorna aren't exactly coordinated on their good-cop/bad-cop routine. But he did say -unnnecessarily messy- ....so the question is just what is neessarily messy.

A cheerleader who somehow managed to fall in with the murderous Reavers being stripped of her cybernetics and now bleeding out on the ground..? Well the necessity of that can be debated later. We're here now. There may be still time to save her life as well and hopefully it'll result in her becoming something greater then the path that led her here. Bishop is not without empathy but first things first.

"Deathstrike, don't be stupidier." his deep voice a growl. "You've no -idea- of my speed and reaction time...and what's more - we're not alone. "

His timing there was perfect as Venom suddenly lunges into view. Bishop had no idea he was there, of course. He -had- been referring to The Shadow and those Lorna was addressing over the comm link - but he's great at maintaining the poker face to keep the illusion of stoicism up. No mean feat when freakin' Venom has divded in as a possible ally.

Then Vivian makes her presence known as well and now Bishop is forced to allow a slight smile and then a light shrug of his large shoulders. Apparently there's some merit into speaking and manifesting your future hopes into being.

His arm tenses and a shot rings out, sending a blast of concussive energy ripping through the air to blast into the ground just in front of the menacing augmented assassin. "No deal. Instead you will disarm before the Queen of Genosha folds all of you into a metallic ball."

Hopefully he finishes before she -actually- pre-empts him by doing it anyway.

Natasha Cranston has posed:
    Bishop's comment is emphasized by the distinct sound of a safety clicking off right by deathstrike's ear. "You've made multiple tactical blunders today," the Shadow informs her coolly. "Your cohorts are dead the moment Polaris decrees it so. You're outnumbered, outgunned, and outflanked. Surrender and live."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
Things being as they are, Clarice is /not/ whistling while she unceremoniously teleports people out of the line of fire. But if she wasn't rapid-fire darting people and had some focus to spare? She totally would be.

But as the crowd begins to thin, she lets those three portals drop, and begins flinging darts out to form brief portals underneath knots of remaining civilians to dump them rather unceremoniously on the street, only to focus a bit more for a brief moment to teleport the food stand, intact and without any topsy-turvy 'Fall down the portal, fly up the other end' trickery.

Because spilling hot oil everywhere? That's not what the Brotherhood is all about.

Well, not when the food stand's innocent. If the purifiers had been running it? All bets would be off.

And then Lady Deathstrike's making that offer, and Blink's metaphorical hackles are rising. But she holds back... she's sure the boss will reply to her in appropriate fashion all on her own.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Queen Polaris gives Lady Deathstrike the favor of her undivided attention and receives the cybernetic killer's offer with a neutral expression--

... four other mutants of your choice...

-- only to crack a smile, black and green lips splitting to bare a peek of pearl. The smile -- the amusement -- makes it all the way to her eyes, despite the tense circumstances.

Because of those tense circumstances, it's red and raw, dripping with a taste of opportunity-- and even after Eddie opts to bring a taste of Arena Mexico to the sewers, after Vivian and Bishop draw explosive lines in the sands, it lingers on bright and true. She holds a hand out to the side while stepping forward, calling for a moment's calm; Eddie, who is already face to face with Bonecrusher, is limited to an outturned, upraised palm.

"Hold on-- look," she exhales, "that's a really good offer, honestly." Moving from Venom, her eyes to the Reavers-- and then the audience of mutants Aria's keeping calm--

-- Aria herself, who instantly softens the lethal edge of her voice--

"... five lives for all these," comes with a broad sweep around the mutants gathered, thoughtful and soft.

Gentle, contemplative in the face of catastrophic violence.

Utterly, absolutely, murderously calm as she brings her attention back to the assembled Reavers.

"Nevermind that one of you's bleeding out, because I ripped her wetware out with a thought," she says to them, smiling broadly.

Warmly, like a bonfire beneath a setting solstice sun.

"Nevermind that-- I mean, MOST of you? Are one hundred percent next in line, because your boss saves the good shit -- the non-ferrous, anti-EMP shit -- for herself, and her favorites--"

NOW she flicks her gaze to Deathstrike, just long enough to confirm: "Right?"

... before it's back to the rank and file:

"That," she tells them, gesturing towards the writhing lump of cheerleader on the ground, "is what your lives are worth to her. THAT is what you're fighting for today: figuring out who can make the biggest mess your useless boss will forget about when this is all over--"

< Stabilize her. >

Subvocalization and finger-snapping punctuate her argument.

< I've got your back. >

"Stand down; let us take your wounded, and there won't be any more," she tells the Reavers, still giving the rest of their cadre the lionshare of her attention in a bid to cut Deathstrike out entirely by virtue of sheer numbers. "Or fuckin' try me."

Her raised hand opens up, allowing green force to arc between her fingers.

"Final offer."

Aria Seraphine has posed:
'Just give us the golden boy...'

The Fallen Angel Seraphine wasn't accustomed to meddling in the affairs of mortals without His will to guide her. She could use her powers to help the sick and infirmed, to inspire hope in the hopeless, to perform miracles, but never without orders from Him Who Is, the all-knowing Presence and One God.

Anything she did here could circumvent His plan. Just existing as she has in this world without His guidance has chafed, has created more worries about her interference than it has reassurances about her good deeds -- of which there have been relatively few, for just that reason.

But here, arms outstretched to help these people keep their calm -- mutants, but still the precious creations of The Almighty -- her own calm wavers.

Her eyes shift to Joshua, at their offer to take him and four others, and that calm... that tranquility... it buckles.

Where once there was a projection of calm, there shifts a sudden blanket of darkness, that rolls out from her like a storm cloud. Does she grow larger? Does she grow.. antlers? Or is it just an illusion? Her bright blue eyes swell with inky black as she wheels on the invaders, the tiny wisp of a girl radiating a threatening terror -- fear of the unknown, the abyss. What IS she capable of? Does anyone really know? Regardless, it's enough to start pushing the crowd AWAY from her, into those portals, into other escape routes.

Even as Lorna finishes... the 'fuckin' try me'... Aria Seraphine is _finally_ following the first instruction Joshua had given her: Go stand next to Lorna.

And all of that fear, terror, and menace is focused directly towards the Reavers like a spotlight of pure dread.

Joshua Foley has posed:
When Venom launches on the attack, one man manages to pull a trigger, a few shots fired before he's engulfed and his companion can only stare before he too is taken. Bonecrusher growls. "Bring it on, mate!" he calls out, ready to bring his chainsaws around to cut through that gooey outside to get to the crunchy nut in the center!

But that has Lady Deatstrike rethinking the tactical position. This has been a blunder. The Queen was supposed to be undercover, which meant that there was only light security. Instead... there's a small smile that creeps across her face, despite the fear vibe that Aria is putting out. "Well, considering out numbers..." a glance to Natasha, and then to Bishop. "And your surprise guests... I suppose we don't really have much choice in the matter, do we?"

Natasha may want them to surrender, but Deathsrtike has not intention to do that. At least not here. << Gateway, four to teleport! >> she demands.

She, Skullbuster, Bonecrusher, and Pretty Boy get portals. "Have fun with the rest of them!"

While Deathstrike, Skullbuster and Bonecrusher are able to get away - Vivian is close enough to Pretty Boy that were she wanting to, she could grab him and keep him from leaving. But only if she wanted to.

Once their commanders are gone, the remaining Reavers start to surrender, dropping their weapons.

And this frees up Joshua to run to the girl's side and kneell down. He feels for lifesigns. "This isn't good." he mutters, but he starts to heal, glowing a light gold as he does so. "Polaris?" he asks. "You want me to try to regrow her legs... or?" Leave her like she is. Legless. Perhaps worse off for it.

Natasha Cranston has posed:
    As Deathstrike and her flunkies make their escape, the Shadow turns to regard the remaining Reavers. "And that is how little your 'trusted leaders' value you when it comes down to it. Meditate on that when you spend time in prison, and consider a new direction in life."

    With that, the figure turns to Polaris and sketches a bow, one gloved hand on the rim of the hat to suggest a hat tip -- and a moment later, there are only shadows.

Bishop has posed:
"Do it."

Bishop doesn't wait for Lorna's confirmation or denial to Joshua's request as he approaches him and the fallen girl.

"Leaving her in misery is something The Reavers would do and is beneath us. She'll still have to answer for the choices she made.." he pauses to survey the surrendering goons who were so easily abandoned, "All of them will. But a merciful gesture can go a long ways towards giving someone the strength to travel a new path in life. Much more then resentment will..."

Bishop breathes a soft sigh and then triggers his comm system again, tapping into another frequency to contact law enforcement. "District X....this is Bishop. We've got multiple cybernetic terrorists in custody. Reaver affiliation. Stand by for coordinates. We'll bring them to the surface shortly."

Eddie Brock has posed:
Venom actually looks disappointed that he doesn't get to tussle with Bonecrusher. << Portals?! >> he yells out, even as that toothy grin disappears behind the inky black symbiote skin again. Apparently there's a legless person just -waiting- to get their brains eaten, and Venom seems to consider doing just that. But for all the witnesses, he declines. And the fact that they're actually healing the henchwoman. Ugh, heroes. Without as much as a farewell, Venom web-zips out of there.

Vivian Vision has posed:
"Did I not speak clearly?" Vivian says with a raised eyebrow. Her tone almost weary. As if finally resigned to do things the hard way. "Surrender. Not run away."

Her hand snapping out with inhuman speed and precision. Pretty boy has the misfortune to be close. Too close. And will find that the synthetic superhero is leaps and bounds more advanced than whatever enhancements he's been fitted with.

She grabs a hold and lifts him off the ground like she's picking up a child's toy. Grip practically unbreakable, unless Pretty Boy suddenly picks this moment to reveal he's part Kryptonian, he's held aloft. As an example to the remaining Reavers. Throwing down those weapons really /is/ the best solution.

"You are under arrest," she informs. "A full recording of this incident is already being submitted as evidence. And as soon as they arrive I'll be turning you over to the authorities."

Probably the FBI. Or maybe SHIELD? Someone with a special box to throw cyborgs in anyway.

"My next energy blast will be in the microwave range. I would not recommend attempting to resist arrest." A beats pause. "It would be extremely unpleasant.. for /you/ of course."

Lorna Dane has posed:
"Heal her all the way," Polaris tells the golden man, raising her voice above the sound of weapons sliding across the ground to pool around her feet. "Bishop's right: we aren't like them."

As if it NEEDS to be underscored, she punctuates that statement with a pointed look at the rest of the Reavers.

"The one Spider-Goo did the leg--"

*thwip!* *thwip!*

"-- what the fuck."

A beat passes. She pinches the bridge of her nose, then shakes it off and turns her attention back to the surrendering Reavers.

"You'll submit yourselves to a fair trial on Genoshan soil, for attempted crimes against Mutanity," she tells them, stepping over the firearms to approach the group. "You'll do your penance as community service and time spent learning about mutant history and culture, until you're ready to be released back into the world..."

Her eyes swing towards Pretty Boy, grappled by the Vivid Vessel with hair as green as her own.

"... and you will tell me how the fuck you could've known to find me here," she tells him. "Followed by all the rest."

Aria Seraphine has posed:
She's never seen anything quite like this, before. Not with mortal eyes.

Not to say that Aria has spent her last five years on Earth living in the lap of luxury, either. Sleeping on the streets and in the alleys of Hell's Kitchen wasn't exactly a crime-free existence. But she'd blissfully avoided Loki's invasion of New York by a year, and she'd not once been set upon by a gang of supervillains.

Well... maybe one supervillain. But, that was behind her, now.

As she watches the head honchos of the Reavers portal out and their henchmen begin to surrender, the dark, ominous aura surrounding her parts as swiftly as a dissipating storm. The shadows the crept in recede once more, the notion of 'antlers' fades, and she seems to shrink, again... deflating to something much more akin to the slender creature that originally arrived with Joshua.

Warm. Kind. Slight of build. Utterly harmless.

There are probably others hurt. There are inevitable injuries at these types of things, to say nothing of the fighting itself. But then there's Vivian making the announcement to Pretty Boy... a full recording of this incident is already being submitted as evidence.

Her heart pounds in her chest. And then it sinks, some of the color leaving her face.

Her forged identity documents. The only way she's able to hold a paying job. The fear of finding herself back on the street, working for cash sets in.

She shouldn't have come.

Lorna's giving order. Josh is safe with his people.

His people... not her people.

And so she turns, tucking her hands into the pockets of her jacket, and without a word, she starts to make her way towards one of those exits, her head slightly bowed, giving off the impression that if she'd been wearing a hoodie, she might have pulled it up over herself... the same way she had every night, when she didn't want anyone to pay any attention to her, on the street. She had nothing more to contribute here, but everything to lose, and old habits die hard.

Joshua Foley has posed:
"Oi, oi. I surrender to the American authoritires." Pretty Boy says with a smug look towards Lorna. "If that's a concern, Your Majesty, I assume it would be a diplomatic thing, no? See. Lovely lass here probably is an American citizen. She has to turn me over to the Americans." A wink. He's so overplaying his hand. The rest of the Reavers are mumbling that they want to stay in America too, but would probably sell out Pretty Boy in a heartbeat.

In the meantime, Joshua heeds the call of the Queen and Bishop. He is after all, a roving pawn. Taking the girl's hands in his own, he closes her eyes for a moment. "Sleep." he says, bringing on her sleep cycle and dropping her into REM sleep by slowing down her brain waves. Then he goes to work healing. It's not easy, but the jelly that was leftover skin and muscle starts to straight and change back.

Joshua gives a little grunt as he works as the murmurs grow around him as he turns brighter gold as he grows bones and cartlidge, knitting and fitting it altogehter while holding the girl's hands.

It takes nearly ten minutes, but when he's done, he awakens the girl. "Done..." he says, a small frown to the girl with new legs. "...welcome back."

And with that, he passes out, landing on his side with a whompf of breath. Words like miracle are easy to throw around.

Joshua is no mircacle worker. He's just a boy that has a power.

Lorna Dane has posed:
"You wanna take your chances with the American justice system, be my guest," Lorna says with a half-shrug. "She-Hulk's my attorney; what about you?"

Her gaze rakes across the other Reavers for a long beat before coming back to Pretty Boy.

"Bear in mind that I've got witnesses," she softly informs him, leaning in.

And then she leaves him to think it over, because watching over Josh while he does his best with the mess she made of one of the cyborgs takes precedence. When he collapses, she squats to catch him and keep him from hitting the ground all the way, frowning.

"Good job," she murmurs, not that he can hear it. "Thank you for keeping a lid on those pricks," she then adds, looking up at Bishop, Viv, Clarice-- everyone who contributed to keeping the body count down.

Vivian Vision has posed:
"Actually I'll hand you over to the authorities in New York because that's where we are," Vivian says brightly. As if discussing an especially sunny morning. "And where sorely underfunded police medical staff will probably have to remove your implants for study. You're probably going to wish you were in the custody of someone with a mutant healer on staff..."

She holographically projects some lines. Forming a little enclosure made of light for the captured Reavers to remain within.

"Did I mention you have the right to remain silent?" she wonders. "Please do consider using it!"

Throughout the entire encounter the emergency response she's been co-ordinating have been getting closer and closer. Containment for powered individuals arranged. Federal and SHIELD contacts contacted. A, thankfully limited, first responder medical team mostly there for the minor injuries people pick up when a crowd has to move suddenly.

"If anyone happens to have any pressing reasons to avoid police interviews and paperwork. Well I will be watching the criminals over here. And if you happen to walk off before giving a statement...."

She shrugs.

"Well I would not recommend it but I'll be far too busy to stop anyone."

It would be an awful shame if people snuck off in the chaos. But ah well these things happen!

Sadly for her date plans she does intend to remain for the aftermath...

Joshua Foley has posed:
"Fine fine. You're right. I'll take my chances with that lot. I've seen Joshie's skills in action." Pretty Boy says, "But in return for telling you what I know, I want full immunity from your justice system. I mean, I ain't really done anything wrong. Except be in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

Aria Seraphine has posed:
Miracles come in all shapes and sizes.

For instance, it's a 'small miracle' that on her way to the exit, Aria Seraphine came across a child. Maybe ten years old with lime-colored skin, separated from her family and sitting quietly against a broken chunk of concrete, she's holding her leg and crying softly.

"Shhhh," the angel soothes softly as she diverts her plans to exit the venue, a small smile tugging across her lips as she instead kneels beside her, hands out of her pockets and opening to show they're empty. "It's okay. It's all over. I'm Sera. What's your name?"

"Zelena," the girl whispers.

Aria's smile grow a little more. "Zelena. I think I can make your leg feel a little better. May I?"

The green-skinned girl nods, and Aria reaches her hand over, palm just above the girl's leg. Her head bows, and she whispers a few words, a gold glow briefly radiating from her palm before the girl is stretching that leg out and then jumping up, hugging her neck tightly.

"You're welcome," Aria laughs softly. "Do you need hel -- "

She hasn't even finished question before the girl is sprinting off, apparently convinced she can find her family on her own. It wasn't really Aria's place to interfere any more than that, and so she stands about to continue on her own path. She turns one last time back towards the gathered heroes and their captives... just in time to spot Joshua collapsing into Lorna's arms.

Her eyes go wide.

"Joshua!" she cries out, racing back across the distance with her hair flying up behind her, suddenly heedless to the dangers of her identity being revealed or being swept up in some sudden raid. She wasn't a member of any of these organizations. She had no protections from the US government or SHIELD or any other government. But that didn't matter in the face of Joshua's unconscious form.

"What happened?!"

It's... more of a demand than it probably should be to the Queen, but she's sliding down to her knees beside them, arms outstretched, ready to take Joshua from her if she'll give him over.

Apparently she'd never seen him use so much of his power that he fell unconscious before.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Aria gets a long, lingering onceover, familiarity beginning to tease at the edges of her perceptions--

"-- pushed himself too hard," the new White Knight of the Hellfire Club then murmurs, shaking it off and nudging Joshua into her custody. "Full limb regrowth, for starters."

Once she's sure Aria has him in hand, she rises to her feet to turn her attention to Pretty Boy, studying him for a moment-- two--

"You wanna do this again in six months," she finally allows, "just know that I'm not gonna be nearly as lenient."

Turning towards Clarice, she dips her chin, giving a wordless signal to commence blinking people to safety-- whether it's in Genoshan custody, or simply on its soil.

"We'll talk soon," she then leaves Aria with before pacing away to tend to the minutiae of bringing in a big crowd of criminals, some of whom are wounded.

Aria Seraphine has posed:
'Pushed himself too hard.'

That's all. He's not... Thank God.

Joshua may be able to bring people back from the dead, but she couldn't. She wasn't even a doctor or a medic. She was just a conduit.

"Thank you," she says, her voice softer and more differential once Lorna has handed him over, a nod of gratefulness offered.

Slender fingers run through Joshua's hair as she shifts him in her lap, looking down into his golden face and taking a deep breath. Could she heal him from unconsciousness? Would she simply have to stay here until he woke up again? She would do either... she would sit here for days, if she had to.

But instead of waiting, instead of sitting and hoping, she leans over his unconscious form, brushes her hair out of the way, and presses a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. Seconds pass before anything happens -- before there's a soft, golden glow from that connection that itself lasts only the span of a couple of heart beats.

Then Joshua's eyes are opening again, and Aria's leaning back just enough to allow her smile to beam down at him.

"There's never a dull moment with you," she whispers, amused, once more brushing at his hair as she cradles his head and lets that aura of warmth and calm wash over him. "Take it slow. Everything's going to be okay, now."