6409/Well, Ain't that a Kick to the Head

Well, Ain't that a Kick to the Head
Date of Scene:	01 June 2021
Location:	Bushwick <Mutant Town>
Synopsis:	Christian Frost has demons, go figure. Blink saves the day. Emma is not going to be happy.
Cast of Characters:	Christian Frost, Clarice Ferguson

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Christian Frost has posed:
    It's dark, it's quiet, it's more than just a more run down area of Mutant Town, it's an area that's all but abandoned. Boarded up houses have fallen into severe disrepair, junked cars line the street. The only people likely living here are the dregs of the dregs and maybe... one serial killer looking for a place to hole up. It's a perfect place for a Brotherhood patrol.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    And patrol, they do. Blink moves silently through the street - dressed once more in the black duster and pants with charcoal top she wore on her last patrol. Over her shoulder, she wears her quiver filled with her pre-made javelins. If things get bad when she's on her own - she wants to be ready for whatever may come, and she wants to be prepared to evac as many people as possible.
    Though as quiet and dead as these streets are 'as many people as possible' is likely to be just her. Other than a drunk pissing in an alley a block or two back, and a stray dog that had growled at her, the streets are empty.

Christian Frost has posed:
    "I'm sorry! I failed you!" What? Where did that come from?! It's a man's voice, maybe up a block or two? Is it in a building? One of the houses? It sounds muted, while still not sounding too far away. It also sounds like whoever they are, where ever they are, that person is in distress, at the very least, emotionally.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice pauses for a moment - listening. Trying to gather any clues she can muster from the unfamiliar voice. Then she pads forward quietly on soft, rubber soles that make little noise. She has practice at moving quietly - very quietly. Trying to sneak up on Mister Creed with his enhanced senses had been a regular form of training for her, for part of her life.
    So it's a very stealthy mutant that approaches the building - where she thought she'd heard the voice. And naturally one of her javelins has already found its way into her hand - one can never be //too// prepared.

Christian Frost has posed:
    Blink's path will lead her to one of the larger homes on the street. It's completely boarded up save for the front door that hangs open and askew on its hinges. There's no more yelling from inside, but other sounds, more disturbing sounds perhaps, drift through that open door. The sound of flesh hitting flesh is an unmistakable one, that's the sound of someone taking a beating and it's underscored by soft, faint sobs.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Shit. What is happening in there? She charges her javelin as she approaches the door - just enough jolt that it can move a human-sized target by about five feet. Should keep everyone in the room where she can see them - but perhaps give whoever is the victim of this beating enough room to retreat. She just needs enough breathing space to assess what's going on.
    But she obviously doesn't have much time to do this recon slow and careful. Someone could get themself killed at any moment - if that hasn't happened already. She approaches the door, sticking to the shadows as much as possible, giving herself only a brief peek through the door before she's moving in.

Christian Frost has posed:
    Christian is curled up in a corner, hands over his head and ...well, he's the one doing that sobbing. His breaths are hitching dangerously in his chest, there's an unhealthy rattling wheeze involved with each inhalation that might indicate there's already something going on there? Maybe a broken rib? Punctured lung?
    But as pitiful as he is, Christian likely isn't the first thing Clarice notices. The ... man? The monster? The thing standing over him is at least eight foot tall, its head a scant few inches from the ten foot ceiling in the living room of the house. Anyone familiar with Winston Frost would recognize the man's features in the face but that's where the similarities end. It looks like some horrific nightmare come to life, like someone took Winston Frost and smashed him all together with some horrible urban legend like Slender Man. He's rail thin, long arms end in hands that have only two fingers and a thumb, each digit equipped with a vicious looking claw. The jaw's malformed, too big due to sharp, yellow teeth that wouldn't fit in the real Winston's mouth. Saliva drips from that misshapen mouth, drool... as if the thing is anticipating a nice meal. The eyes are black, deep pits void of anything but swirling shadow.
    ...and it's currently beating the *fuck* out if its son. Each violent kick or punch is accentuated with a growl of anger and disgust. Hell, it even spits on the poor guy a few times. At least it hasn't resorted to using those claws... yet?

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    What the living fuck //is// that?! It's a natural question - and for a moment it's the only thought in Blink's mind. But action is required, and she can't allow herself anytime to think the situation. Instead, with a practiced flick, the javelin flies through the air to strike the monster - and open up that five feet of space she'd planned.
    Then she gets its attention.
    "Hey. Ugly. Man, you look like you'd need a belt just to keep your spandex on." Yes. Skinny jokes. That's what this moment calls for, right? "I'm right here, bean pole," she urges the monster - reaching for her quiver for another of her javelins.

Christian Frost has posed:
    Skinny but BRUTAL and strong. Each kick is now lifting Christian from the ground with its force. Emma's beloved brother isn't sobbing anymore, he's frighteningly still. The twisted imitation of his father reaches down and snags Christian by the hair, pulling his limp body to a general standing position. "Little girl, this is between me and my faggot son. Maybe I can beat the gay right out of him." It's voice is gravely, like it's chewing on marbles, its breath putrid even from a distance. "... Little sister Emma isn't here to save him THIS time," it snarls. Proof there that this is obviously Christian's mind doing its worse to... well, Christian. Winston himself doesn't even know Emma still speaks to Christian. Not that Clarice would know that.
    It shakes Christian around like nothing more than a ragdoll. "Do you know how EMBARRASSING it is to have a FAGGOT for a son? DO YOU?!" The shaking becomes more violent. He's might just snap the man's neck at that rate!

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    How- why didn't it-? Shit.
    She doesn't have time to stare and ponder the utter failure of her powers, however. This is //not// happening. Not on her watch. The javeline flies again - this time aimed at Christian. The plan? Blink him out of the room, and set him down gently in the shadows outside of the house. It's one of those precision teleportation jobs she's been practicing, since it doesn't look like he'll be able to catch himself as he tumbles out - she can only hope she positioned it correctly so he's horizontal and only has an inch or two to crumple to the floor. "A little insecure, are we? Is it because you can wipe your ass with dental floss? It must be hard having a son who can actually get some action." Oh God oh God oh God what is this thing?

Christian Frost has posed:
    Whatever that thing is? It vanishes when Christian does! That's a good thing right? Clarice will have to get outside to see if she aced the landing. ...or maybe she'll just have to get out side because ... is that the sound limp, thrown body thudding against the side of the house?
    Clarice is smart, she's resourceful, she's compassionate and empathetic. Maybe, just maybe, she stands a chance to figure out what that thing is. Because it really is the picture of every abused child's *nightmare*

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "That's not how it's supposed to work!" Clarice practically //roars// at the monster disappears along with the victim.
    She could run for the door. She doesn't. A portal appears beside her and she steps through, appearing outside the house, no doubt to the sight of the 'monster' whaling on a limp figure. Think, Clarice. Think. The blink shouldn't have taken the monster with it. Either the monster can teleport as well - and could perfectly follow her teleportation fields instantly, or-
    Or the monster isn't here.
    But it's obviously here. Isn't it?
    Well. Let's play into the delusion. "Emma doesn't have to be here," she says. "Emma Frost sent //me//." It's a leap - but there's a resemblence. Isn't there? The pale skin. The color of that hair. The fine, delicate features. "And she says you're asshole. So come get me, buddy." There are ways she doesn't use her javelins - not anymore. Not without cause. But if this thing isn't real...? Well. Maybe it'll work - maybe it won't, but she can't stand by and do nothing. So she flings another one, aimed at the slender-creature's chest - trying to tear away and teleport just a portion of its mass. Doing this to a human would have devastating, fatal affects.

Christian Frost has posed:
    It would probably make a person's head hurt to figure out how her words reach the unconscious Christian's mind. Maybe because the construct he's controlling is an extension of his subconscious and *it* hears her? Either way, after one swift, kick to the *head* that might have just snapped Christian's neck... or maybe not! Hopefully not! ...MonsterDaddy turns to face Clarice. "Emma sent you?" It seems confused, afraid even. Because in Christian's mind, Emma is his shield between him and his horrible father. In HIS mind, daddy dearest *is* afraid of Emma.
    ...this time, when the javelin hits? It does take away a portion of the construct's mass, a big portion. Its eyes widen. It looks down at the whole in its chest and crumples to the ground before vanishing in a blink. Because... Emma sent a savior, it had to work, right?

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Emma sent me," Clarice repeats, advancing threateningly - her features a cold, impassive mask. A fight like this - a fight where she pulls up her old training? It brings the person she used to be back to the fore. And for a moment - she's not entirely sure that she is a person. She's a tool - a weapon. She gets the job done.
    There's another javelin in her hand - and she watches impassively as the monster is simply gone. She's still for half a heartbeat, then she turns full circle, looking for any signs of danger. When none present themselves, she puts the javelin away to approach Christian - fingers going to his throat to check for a pulse. "Hey - you in there?" she asks.

Christian Frost has posed:
    There is a pulse, but Lord have mercy, he's a mess. Even through the swelling and bruising that's already appearing on his face it's now *easy* to see it. There is no doubt, this man is related to Emma Frost. The gay black sheep of the family, it's no secret really. It might be more of a secret just how much Emma loves the battered broken man laying there on the ground though. His breathing is shallow and labored, but at least he IS breathing. For a long, long few moments there's nothing from him. When he finally speaks, it's one word... but it's the most important word in the world to him, "Emma?" His eyes are closed, he can't see Clarice. Does he think *she's* Emma or is he asking for Emma?

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Christian can't see - but the cold, flat expression on Clarice's features slowly changes, with concern and compassion leaking back into her features. She isn't a weapon. She isn't that thing anymore. She's a person.
    "I'm Clarice," she answers gently. "But I know Emma. Do you want me to take you to a hospital? Or take you to Emma first? You're hurt pretty pretty... We can help you," she offers in a calm, soothing tone. She's almost afraid to touch him - he's a mess. Where's Barrim when you need her?

Christian Frost has posed:
    Christian is slipping in and out of awareness and blackness. He still hasn't moved much safe the slight roll of his head from one side to the other. ...and the bend of one leg up a little as if guarding against pain. So, limbs are moving at least! ...and he just repeats, "Emma..." his barely there voice *desperate*. He wants his sister.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice lets out a sigh - then very carefully, very gently, slides her hands under the man's form. She lifts him into her arms, rising to her feet. "I'll take you to her," she promises. Emma will have to make the medical decisions on this one, it seems. It only takes a moment of concentration to open another portal - and the pair step through, into an opulent looking office.