2013-02-14 Escalating Hostilities

People like to 'escape' into nature for all sorts of reasons-- even in the heart of one of the largest, most modern cities on Earth, no shortage of money and effort go into maintaining these myriad oases. In the heart of winter, the sun wearies early, drifting low on the western horizon to cast long shadows in dwindling light across walkways undercutting aged, slumbering trees.

There's a stillness to the air, that calm before a metaphorical storm, where the world has a tendency to project that sense that things are just too quiet; that now is a tranquility born not of peace, but of tension. Some seers say it builds all day at points of conflict and distress potent enough to truly echo across the fabrice of space and time, magic and man; some teachers have told him he should be able to smell it. Maybe that's what it is that leads the right people to the right places, the times when providence is working on the side of the angels.

Maybe that's why the top-secret marching orders of a clandestine crew got compromised by pressure on the right people. Maybe that's why Wolverine raced from Colorado to New York to stop a tragedy that was already fated to happen, predicted and predestined by electronic mail and a god damn bank transfer.

Whatever fates and beings one chooses to put their faith in, Logan makes it to his meeting on time, stalking unseen and unheard through the leaves, indistinct through practiced trickery and agility. A brown cowboy hat, worn and frayed at the edges, rides low on his head, shadowing his eyes even further. The brown, heavy coat looks almost as old, and those shitkicker boots, well. They've kicked some shit. Not that anyone is liable to notice him, yet; Wolverine's half stalking Karolina, here, but by her scent, well out of sight if not earshot.

The people he's here to meet? Not actually among the park's spartan evening populace; yet.

It might possibly be the first time that Karolina Dean would have been grateful for a stalker. Having been forced into the life of a runaway - oh - who knows how many years ago now, she's gained a certain sense for such things - and how to avoid them. Needless to say, however... she had absolutely no idea that Wolverine was following her. Not even the hair raising on the back of her neck. Bringing up a hand to brush her fingertips along one of the low-hanging branches from one of the trees as she passes by it, she was dressed warmly. Ski leggings on her legs, big stompy boots on her feet, with woolen socks, of course. A relatively normal blouse worn beneath a likewise thick coat more suited for the slopes, but just as fine for cold New York evenings - and a lavender-coloured scarf, of course.

She rather preferred not being cold, at all.

Or out after dark, really. After her moment, she lifts her eyes up towards the sky, pausing a moment to take in the colours of dusk. Sigh. She probably should start heading back now. Boots crunching in the snow, she does turn on her heel, taking a moment to pull her hands from the sleeves of her coat, to flip up the hood of her jacket.

There's one more person out at this hour that shouldn't be here. Not because she doesn't belong here so much as that she should be confined to a hospital bed, continuing to get a blood transfusion and an IV for the bullet wound she's still very much suffering through from a few days ago.

Still, one must strike while the iron is hot. She barely managed to get her foot in this proverbial door. Very last minute. Very happenstance. Frankly, very flippin' lucky.

Domino's hopped up on pain meds and caffeine, pawing at her tired face as the chilly air seeps into her limbs, pierces through her trench and ebbs into the armored skin beyond. For this outing she isn't flying her X-uniform, it's back to basic black. She arrives early, getting herself set into position. A high point, sniper roost. Her travel companion is a ludicrously impressive piece of German engineering, it's called the DSR-1 and it's capable of sending a .338 Lapua cartridge -exactly- where the shooter wishes for it to land.

The bipod gets lowered. Fresh mag in the well, a spare mag in the holder. A suppressor gets locked into place, scope covers flick open, the bolt glides home into the receiver. The last toy is bolted right onto the rifle's rails, a long-range microphone that should give her a better chance of overhearing conversations from afar.

Know your enemy. Know your target. And above all else, whatever you do? Don't let 'em know you're coming.

Owen Folger isn't following anyone tonight or being followed as far as he knows. He spent some time hunting some prey of his own earlier and decided to stop by the gardens to enjoy some peace and quiet among some nature. Hoodie on and hood up, he's got that mystic darkness covering his face. Gloved hands stuffed into his hoodie's pocket, he's walking slowly along and occasionally stopping to examine whatever plant catches his interest. He hasn't yet noticed that he's not the only one enjoying the sights tonight yet though.

Batgirl is running wired for sound. Which means that Oracle's set her costume's built-in cameras and mics to record. Sorry though, no blinking red light to warn folks. Given that Batgirl's ability to communicate isn't very sophisticated, while Batman and Oracle knew she'd be OK to send after this rogue group they've been picking up chatter on, debriefing her after any encounter would be... frustrating.

Oracle managed to find out the target, and passed Karolina's picture on to the little black bat. As a side note, if Batgirl could properly express her annoyance at being sent to find a single girl amidst the vast botanical garden... Well. Yes. Needle in a haystack. What she did notice though, was someone stalking someone. Because that kind of behaviour gets the attention. With all the snow, Logan shows up bright and clear on her cowl's thermal sensors and so she starts to stalk the stalker, as he could be after her own target.

Full-cowl, hiding even her eyes and long scalloped cape, she slides from tree to tree, shadow to shadow.

Sniff. Sniff. Logan pauses as a boot presses a fresh print into packed snow, stopping mid-stride. First the Canuck's head, then the rest of him, turns a near one-hundred and eighty degrees rather suddenly. The Bats may baffle their scents with high-tech variants of tactics favored by trackers for generations, but there's no hiding /all those weapons/. The armor, the chemicals, the bombs, the blades; Wolverine's been on both sides of all sorts of similar toys over the years.

Inadvertently, and perhaps rather alarmingly, in infrared it would make clear to Cass that not only might the mutant be shadowing someone-- he might be aware of her stalking him stalking someone, at that. It sets her apart from Owen, or the handful of wanderers lingering in the park near closing, or beyond.. ironically, it gives Logan away that much more thoroughly. It's probably good he doesn't realize he's being so thoroughly out-maneuvered by a girl her age, just yet-- and there's no time to ponder the mysterious, armed shadow that pings like a missing truth to Wolverine's nose. From the sky, like artillery shells, a trio of strikes land in the area, centered safely around Karolina; but hardly comfortably clear of her.

Each figure rises an extra head and chest too tall, and humanoid-- but alien and emotionless; blacker than the coming night, illuminated only by faint emissions coming from apparent vents and weapons ports, varied on each armored suit.

Several of these panels slide sleekly open along the first unit's shoulders, launching perhaps a half-dozen micromissiles in a sudden array directly for the girl; they don't seem concerned about taking her dead or alive, which is enough to redouble Logan's pace, and ferocity. Batgirl would have seen him move, inexplicably once more, to /sprint/ towards his initial, potential quarry moments before that impact-- as if lives depending on it, or his own were in sudden and eminent jeopardy.

If life had left her alone, it's doubtful that anything resembling artillery shells would have ever entered her life. Her life before was comfortable, far too easy - and she was grateful for the experience of life to show her just how good she had it then. Of course, the Karolina-that-might-have-been and the Karolina now were two entirely different women.

The hood of the winter jacket that Karolina wore was blown off with the shock - and the sheer /force/ of the landing stuns her, driving her to one knee, her mind turned from enjoying an evening in nature to rather sudden survival. Instincts kick in, really, driven by years of fighting as a Runaway, and supported by her stint in the Titans. She had no idea what was going on, and she was stunned - tear her bracelet off, and raise a shield until you can get your wits again.

A burst of sparkling rainbow energy lights up the dusk where she tears off the bracelet, and as those missiles home in on her - a hollow sphere of equally rainbow energy lights into life around her - the shield warping a bit where the missiles strike, and presumeably explode, Karolina holding her hands out, her bracelet trapped between her thumb and her palm as she slowly rises to her feet, head lolling up towards the towering figures.

The bracelet's clasp was bent with the violence of its removal. She has to chide herself to chase that thought away, eyes narrowing with focus on the power suits. Slow focus.

Well now, those three humanoids in the large black armor sure seem like targets, don't they? For a moment Domino's considering doing nothing at all. Wait and see how this plays out. There's more pieces on this game board than she's aware of, that much seems obvious. But, who? And -what?-

She could do nothing. She could risk showing her hand early and take the first shot. She could--is that -Logan?!-

"Shit," she mutters to herself. "Well kiddo, looks like you've just played my hand for me."

Illuminated crosshairs drift back to the head of one of those armored figures, Dom's breath slowing, her pulse settling into a slow, comfortable, predictable rhythm.

Beat. Inhale. Initial trigger pressure. Beat. First stage passed. Exhale. Hold. Second stage--

-FWOOMP!-

--passed. One large bore high velocity bullet is released into the still night air with the snap of the sound barrier getting utterly pulverized by its passing. The recoil slams the rifle back into Dom's shoulder, quickly drawing a grimace through her tensed expression as she automatically works the bolt, a spent cartridge clinking beside her forearm as another gets locked home.

Wash, rinse, repeat. Three bad guys standing, four bullets in a mag. One more than she should need.

Owen may be showing up strangely on infrared sensors, the DarkForce very cold and not letting his heat signature be seen through it. He's lost in thought then those impacts startle him. "The hell?" he murmurs softly. Peeking around the corner, his eyes go wide when he sees those armored figures attacking a glowing girl. Tensing, he tries to figure out if he should step in or not. The sudden shot of a gun makes him curse under his breath. "What's going on?" he asks himself quietly.

As Logan pauses, Batgirl can see it. As he starts to turn she's already sliding out of sight behind a tree. Which would make her impossible to detect for most people. But Logan isn't most people and she's not used to having to defeat animal-keen senses.

Any worrying she might have done over being spotted (because it was clear from his body language he knew she was there) goes by the wayside as the armored figures slam into the ground and she's moving, heedless of being seen now. The time for stealth is over. Sprinting to close the distance, she goes from ground to the trees to get some height. Domino's bullet slams into one armored form and Batgirl throws a Batarang with a decel line attached for the head of another, using it to close the distance to land on the armored figure's shoulders. The fingers of one hand find something to try to hold onto, the grip on her boots as well. Her other hand collects some small explosive pellets from her utility belt and she's jamming those into a set of vents.

The second suit boosts a left gauntlet that looks more like a futuristic ray gun from a bad B-movie, though there's nothing cut-rate about the effect as the weapon is levelled on Karolina after the first assault sends reverberations through that shield of light and energy. There's a methodical leniency to the approach, pinning her in the middle of the triad of foes-- one going after the next. Either they're polite, or probing out of some morbid or clinical curiousity. British warfare never goes out of style, right? The ground splits open in the wake of the blast of high-decibel power, the only scant blessing presented to Karolina its limit to the speed of sound.

Not so are Domino's bullets, and the sustained wave is cut short even as the powered infantry seeks to unlease a second, even more powerful pulse. The bullet doesn't drop the soldier, though-- the helmets, those outer hulls, they stop even the impressive sniper rounds one after the next. Electronics within, however, are jarred and glitching-- the sheer /force/ of the high velocity rounds staggering each armored unit away from the rifleman who fired. Several unplanned steps are taken to correct and reorient targetting and stability controls, the as-yet unengaged unit turning about to scan in Domino's direction for the shooter, twin cannons rising to a forward-locked firing position over its shoulders as it slowly sweeps.

Reacquisition for the other two, however, comes at a rather slower-than-intended clip: the first finds a black Bat atop its shoulders in short order, and miniaturized explosives small enough to deploy through the few scant cracks in that exoskeleton. It doesn't immediately breach and destroy the suit, but from the recoiling lurch, the spray of fire and sparks, and the rent chunks of outer plating revealing an inner bodysuit-- presumably around the pilot.

The powersuit mounting the sonic wave cannon gets its own passenger, in the form of a lunging figure pouncing out of full bore, unnaturally swift sprint from the treeline. The swift crunch-crunch-crunch of snow gives way to a dual staccato of *SNIKTSNIKT* and a rending of metal and conduits as Logan lands astride that suit's midsection, slashing back and forth as he rides it to a snow-splattering crash. "On your side, girl!" Karolina's, or Batgirl's? Safely, he could be talking to either of them.

Well, you'll have to forgive Karolina for thinking that Logan was talking to her. She was (blissfully) unaware that she had been being stalked by a Canadian, a sniper, and a Batperson, not to mention Lurker and three power-suits, until, oh, ten seconds ago? The sun was setting - had been set. Karolina carried quite a bit of energy with her, but being out of the sun would hurt the magnitude of the shields she could raise. Biting her lower lip, she ducks her head and wrenches her eyes shut, heart pounding as she pours energy to maintain the shield against the onslaught - but the warpings in the energy of it were growing more pronounced, and the colour was fading from it, turning slowly into a grey as the reverb from the sonic cannon /rattles/ her to the bone...

Karolina raises her eyes, teeth gritting, and flicks her eyes from one suit to the next, eyes spending just a moment on Wolverine. She does two things - duck low - and then jump high - dropping the shield at the apex of the jump and pouring what energy she can into fast vertical movement - up. Flight. Hopefully, the motion would be too fast for the wave cannon to track.

"-Shit!-" Dom hisses as she rips the lone earbud off the side of her face, frantically muting the long-range mic as it picks up that sonic attack from the visiting team. Unexpected... Point to them.

Wait, what's -this- now? One of the -Bats,- here? Outside of Gotham?! Domino's not sure which is more unusual, that Batgirl is in this part of New York or that the albino actually -recognizes- her! Hmm, if she's here then there's a good chance that she already knows about this merc's position in the field.

"Where's your mentor tonight, Silent Protege?"

What the hell's going on here? Already she's identified -two- 'friendlies.' Did someone send out party invites? And they didn't..invite..her. "This should be interesting," she mutters with a humorless smirk, her fingertip drifting back to the precision trigger as she eyes up the next shot. Playing the role of a guardian angel is nothing new for her, but guarding two people--three if she's choosing to include the girl with the rainbow shield thingus--is a definite change from the norm!

One of the three seems to be scanning for her. Smart move, but it also gives her an ideal angle of attack. She can't punch through their helmets, but there's an even more vulnerable target within. The visor over their eyes. It's a trick shot, to say the least. Several hundred meters. Light cross-wind. "That's it, big guy... Look right at the lens and say cheese."

-FWOOMP!-

Watching the assault unfold, Owen scowls. Crazy people in costumes, some kind of knife-fisted man, a sniper out there somewhere and all of it seems to be focused on that rainbow girl. "Hey! Glowin' girl!" he calls as she flies. "C'mon this way!" he tries to get her attention, trying to wave her over. He glances a few times at the fight going on and mutters something about being insane for not just turning around and walking the other way.

Batgirl stays on the powersuit, the plating that tears away giving her another spot to hold onto on that slick carapace. Being in close means their ranged attacks are useless, and she has decent odds of staying out of it's visual range as well. Well, mostly useless. Luckily the audio dampers in her cowl deal with the sonic attack, and Cain's daughter doesn't even flinch.

Using the decel cable still tangled around the powersuit, Batgirl swings around towards that opening in the armor and tries to get a strike in on the bodysuit visible beneath.

With the timely intervention of those lucky -- or unlucky -- enough to be in the loop, or caught in the blast radius of the nefarious operation. All to kill a teenage alien girl; mankind can be downright insane, sometimes. Too much of the time, in Logan's experience. While the bulk of the suit's backpack and power source makes it difficult for Wolverine to land a mortal blow to his prey, he tears apart components like butter-- right to the point he slashes into the reactor. It's not unfair to say the deadly, diminutive mutant probably did that rather intentionally.

Not that that's likely to stop him from regretting the result, as a pulse of energy launches the Canuck clear in electrified spasms, until he collides with the thick trunk of a nearby tree. With a very solid crack, that trank snaps with Wolverine's impact, and topples thunderously to the ground across the newly groaning X-Man. The powersuit itself goes dark-- then backup systems begin to bring it back on line with an audible, renewed hum.

Domino's shot is one in a quarter-million, maybe more. The breeze even shifts, just enough, to compensate for her slight excess of choke. The round is a perfect, clean kill-- the powersuited soldier slumps forwards, falling over in a posture not unlike one might imagine a prostrate gorilla. .. before it, too, lurches back to life; more suddenly than its compatriot, even, those dual cannons releasing a paired, coupled pulse of all-consuming plasma in a disturbingly accurate retaliation against Domino's firing position.

Batgirl's strike drops the beast to its knees, and prompts a forceful swing of a spiked gauntlet designed to sweep the dangerous Bat aside-- or smoosh her outright. Cassandra would readily recognize the complete absence of any pain response, or the debhilitation inherent in damage from such a blow. Between them, however-- Owen and Karolina are given a moment to get their bearings.. assess, strike, or perhaps flee into the night, away from the insanity following from all sides.

Karolina Dean really had no idea what was happening here, or who these people are - twisting in the air, she hears the report of Domino's rifle - she didn't have a hope of spotting the shooter, really, but her eyes were caught on the results of the shot, 'Lina's stomach twisting. "Wait!" she calls out towards the woods - the woods opposite of where the shot came from regardless. "Just don't...!" It was unlikely her words would have carried to Domino anyways. And 'lina didn't feel much like saying more when the suit lurched back into life.

Glowing energy coaleseces around one of the Majesdanian's hands, and she grits her teeth, before firing a bolt down at the suit that Domino had put a round through the head of. It was much easier to gun down what was probably an actual robot. Not that Lurker's calls were going unheeded, by the way.

She doesn't take her eyes off of the suits until she was darting up, doing a barrel roll that leaves a trail of energy behind her (and yes, sparkles), not quite pausing as she moves to sorta swoop towards Lurker's position. "Who /are/ you people?" she calls to him, slowing her velocity some as she nears, "What's happening?"

Game..set..-motherfucker.-

Domino grits her teeth against the pain flaring through her torso from her lingering wound, throwing herself into a sidelong roll with the the rifle tucked in close as her target, her -perfectly executed- target, comes back from the dead and dials her number in for retaliation.

She's left swinging out by a cable secured to her harness as the plasma shots slag her sniper roost, momentum swinging her down across the wall until she can bring a hand up to a quick draw line and let herself fall back to ground level, without breaking her legs along the descent.

"Position compromised. Ordnance largely ineffective. Gonna have to -- who the hell am I talking to?" she suddenly interrupts herself.

The question is given a second of thought before she snorts and disconnects herself from the rappel line. "You always do this when you're nervous Domino. Only question is -why- you're nervous. Sorry Logan, you're on your own here. Gonna bleed out from my own recoil before I can put one of those bastards down."

Yeah, she knows no one else can hear her.

Owen winces slightly as he sees Logan go flying. Thinking the man is probably dead, Owen shakes his head. The shot from Domino doesn't get a wince though. He's done his share of shooting...mostly animals but there's been a few people he'd been forced to take a gun to. It's those armored suits coming back to life that has Owen worried. He curses under his breath and takes a step back, hoping Karolina comes his way before he has to run for his life.

"Oh thank god," he sighs out as Karolina swoops down. The questions have him staring at her for a second before he shakes it off. "Can't say Ah know any of these folks or the tin men but mah name's Lurker," he says, Southern Accent go clearly noticable. "And near as Ah can tell, the metal men want you dead, Miss. Ah suggest we head for the hills," he offers a gloved hand. "Ah can get ya'll out of here and they won't be able tah follow. Ya just gotta take mah hand and hold on tight."

Downside to fighting robots or guys in power armor? Batgirl can't 'read' them like she does normal people. There are none of the micromovements that give away their intention before they actually move and so she has to react like, well, anyone else would. She's used to having that edge though, and so when the spiked gauntlet comes her way it's all she can do to roll with the blow, a boot coming up to find a spike-free spot and absorb some of the impact as she's slammed aside. The spike still manages to cut a bloody gouge through her costume, bright red splashing from a line along her calf as she tucks and rolls away.

Those plasma cannons are powerful, but hardly armored to sustand the blast of solar-charged energy that hammers into the powersuit across the broadside, dropping the unit to his-- or its-- knees. A hiss of escaping gas or steam jets outwards from a port on the powersuit's chest, and only one of two secondary weapon proceeds to fire, sweeping the formerly peaceful retreat with pulses of bluish plasma, the machinegun blasts firing all but blind-- the suit's telemetry doing only slightly better than its wetware. Disoriented but hardly disabled, the damaged suit that swats Batgirl aside rights itself, pausing only a moment to survey the battleground-- with precision that suggests the powersuited mercenary already knows near enough where most of the participants are.

Discounting Logan is ever a mistake, however, he's already cleaved that trunk off of himself as nozzles open on either gauntlet of that armored assailant turning on Batgirl, releasing twin plumes of flame which Wolverine charges through like shoulder tackling a lineman, halfway to severing both of the would-be killer's arms in two flashing, merciless strokes. Burnt, coat and hat ablaze, Logan follows up by bringing both sets of adamantium razors back across the powersuit's midsection, blood apparent at the deepest point of the cut.

Of course, even as this agent is driven back, the one with the Wolverine-cut power comes back online, an armored gauntlet thudding to the snowy ground as the other grips a stonework wall and drags itself back towards its feet. The wildly-firing, twice-slain plasma-armed suit ends its sweeping arc destabilized and crashing groundwards, sizzling where Karolina's strike left exposed, molten slag.

Karolina does a loop in midair - one of the problems of glowing so brightly, she's discovered through much trail and error - mostly error, is that glowing was hardly ideal when people were shooting things around. Her voice was a bit clipped when she responds to lurker, rainbow brow furrowed in concern, "Lurker - nice to meet you, I'm Karo... Lucy... dammit, I'm Karolina! But we can't just run and leave those people behind - they were trying to..." she begins to say, cutting her motion to hover in midair.

She was missing the blood, thank goodness, still of the mind that they were dealing with robots, more or less - she hadn't had the time to really gather her wits. And spy the bluish bolts of plasma arcing towards them both. Lifting another shield - she is certain to make it large enough to protect both her and Lurker, presumeably beneath her, her eyes wide as she surveys the others. "Hide!" she snaps out towards Lurker, casting a glance towards him. "...or help!"

"They can run too if they know what's good for 'em," Owen replies, glancing at Wolverine and Batgirl. Seeing Wolverine in action has the fuzzy mutant a little unsettled. Part of him wonders if that's what it's like to see his...other side...in action. He throws his arms up as those blasts come in but then there's a shield he's grateful for. Getting snapped at makes him jump. "Fine. Can't say Ah can stand back and jus' watch this," he grunts, vanishing in a little burst of Darkforce. He reappears near the suited merc that just swatted Batgirl and reaches out to lay a hand on that gauntleted arm. If he's able, he'll teleport a few feet away trying to take the whole arm with him.

Batgirl's strikes can break bones and, with enough determination, pulverize stone. But the armored suits are more than that, making her usual mode of attack mostly useless. Ignoring the cut that leaves bright splashes of red against the white of the snow that hasn't been churned up from the battle, Batgirl pushes back to her feet as Logan barrels into her assailant.

Trading off, Batgirl turns her head to the one getting back to its feet and her arm snaps forward, this time loosing a bola for the suited figure with a line back to her. As it wraps around the bad guy's ankles, she steps around a tree and hauls on the cable, using the trunk for leverage to try to topple it back down. She might not be able to get through their hide very effectively but if she can keep it busy long enough for Logan...

Karolina's glowing isn't going to get her blasted for the moment.. if only because her assailants have their hands full with her unexpected allies. The shallow gouges across the powersuit's pilot don't stop him, though Wolverine has time to level three or four sets criss-crossing the armored chest before a rising knee impacts harshly with adamantium ribcage, sending the Canuck skyward. Deceptively agile, the feral, burly little mutant heaves himself sidelong, coming about to land in a fury of clawed stabs and snarling threat atop the other suit as it rights itself. He's quite conscientious about buying time.. and taking his foes apart, chunk by chunk.

It also leaves a hell of an opening for Lurker's sudden ambush, the half-torn limb suddenly missing entirely, a ragged edge not cleaved by any blade. It comes in brutal tandem with Batgirl's clever strike, as injury and disorientation collide to provide the perfect opportunity. She's barely noticed in those instants, the suit's legs tied up by superstrong bat-bola, reinforced line bringing a full tree down on top of the operative with a creaking, crashing impact that cracks even advanced armor at several stressed points.

Catastrophic damage passed several times over, somewhere within or on a distant control linked to a whimsical god, enough is deemed enough. That eerie bluish glow from the powersuit's reactor flares exponentially in a rising series of seconds, fast on its way to critical. Mere moments later, the unit goes up-- consumed in its entirety in a spherical bloom of white-hot discharge like a miniature supernova, melting.. and then evaporating the snow, charring the ground for yards around. The one initially disabled by Karolina and Domino? Rapidly follows suit.

Karolina was grateful, don't get her wrong. But watching the way the other three just tear into the suits? Eyes wide, nose crinkling - it was a look of shock at the level of violence she was seeing played out before herself. Lifting her hover to just a bit above head height, Lucy in the Sky leans forward, her flight bringing her nearer and nearer to the melee as it plays out.

She was everwatchful - which might be good, for when that unit goes up in a supernova - then the second? Those who might be affected might find the blast less forceful than they might think - the first one goes off without a hitch, but the second? Karolina lifts her arms and creates a u-shaped shield, with the open part of the 'u' facing away from anyone. Unless someone was hiding in the trees.

She hoped not.

Leaving the arm where it lands, Lurker turns and scans the battle quickly. He's looking for another opening when he sees Batgirl take the suit down. Wolverine's charging gets another nod and Owen decides that bot doesn't need to be targeting. Before he can decide to attack anything else there's that explosion and Owen getting knocked on his rear.

Batgirl ducks and rolls away as things start to spark and snap, and it proves a good thing as the suits start to go off like Roman Candles. Eyes wide behind the black lenses that are part of her featureless mask, she nontheless knows that if there were people in those suits there is no saving them from that.

Wolverine may be the best there is at what he does-- but what he does isn't very nice. Better than the alternatives the feral mutant notices right off the bat, however. Karolina's shield proves an ample deterrant to the bulk of the blast, channeling it clear of structure and cover where civilians might hide.. or try to record cell phone video. The suit Wolverine still tries to tie up gets its own self-destruct command.. but the charge fails to fire. The connection is nonetheless severed-- the mutant's enhanced hearing can't mistake the sizzle as circuits and communications are physically melted after the command is given.

Rising off the fallen powersuit, Logan slips off half a burning jacket, throwing it clear into the snow and patting fire out on the front of his shirt after a swift snap snakts his claws right back out of view. There's a steady, primal intensity in the moment taken to assess those still standing nearby. After that, he figures he owes them a nod. It's gratitude for ya.

"Everybody in one piece?" It's lazily toned, a formality; but not due to lack of caring. Wolverine can smell too well, even pick one of their blood from another. In fact, he's already moving towards Batgirl, stooping to inspect her wounds from a polite distance.

"Okay," Karolina says, bringing up her hands - her glow quite a bit dimmer than it was to begin with. She was fighting a horrid headache, but beyond a crease to her forehead, and a bit of crankiness - the dull thud of her head was a bit minor of a problem. "Two questions, please. I'm Lucy - but, who /are/ you people, and /who/ are those people?" she says, gesturing openly towards the fallen suits.

"Ah've been better," Owen mutters, sitting up. When he notices his hood has fallen down, he quickly pulls it back up to cover his fuzzy and fanged face. Once he's back on his feet, Owen stuffs his hands back into his pocket and falls silent. He's curious about the answers to Karolina's questions so he hasn't left yet.

Batgirl's wound is one that will require stitches, and should best be bound up soon before the blood leaking out on the snow starts to become an issue. Those spikes were sharp. But she moves as though she's not injured. Later, there'll be time to indulge in that. But not now. Not on the field.

The little black bat stands straight and tall, all five foot nuthin' of her and even with her cape draping from her shoulders to the snowy ground it's clear she's rather petite. The full cowl hides any guesses at her age.

With the attempt on Karolina aborted, Oracle gives Batgirl the OK to wrap up. This is more attention than the Bats like and more is sure to arrive from the explosions. She stands there, statue-still with only the wind tugging at the scalloped edges of her cape, a dark, pointy-ear spectre as she waits for people to glance away to make her silent exit.

It's a long trip back to Gotham, and Oracle and the Batman will likely have questions to go with the recordings. Batgirl's first stop though? Is Alfred. The man's aces with a needle and thread.

"People huntin' people like you for cash and favors. A lot of both." It's at once a lot of information and not enough, the way one looks at it. "As to us?" There's a glance to Batgirl, or rather where she stood a moment ago, and a subtler, knowing shift towards the trail he suspects took her away from them. "People after the people huntin' people like you." It's a complicated life. Wolverine rises and digs a cigarette out of a crumpled pack in his jeans, tossing aside two broken smokes before popping one in his mouth and lighting it. Pausing to take a long haul, smoke is blown upwards into the night air.

"Detonation like that, you're gonna have SHIELD. Probably for the best." If kind of irritating, right now. "Don't think either of you've got the answers they're after, either. Got somewhere to lay low?" Because that's sounding like a seriously good idea, just about now. There's a crumpled business card in the other pocket of his jeans, extended upwards towards the targeted Masjesdanian.. not that it bears much beyond a safehouse address and an unmarked phone number. Sometimes the right kind of backup is hard to find.. and this kind of thing just prompts more questions; thing is, Logan's still running a little shy on pertinent answers.

Karolina's face was a bit grim as she catches the business card, looking towards Logan with pursed lips, and a slowly widening sort of frightened look. There is a long moment where she doesn't say a thing, really. But there's a small nod of her head, and she just says, "Thanks," a certain amount of confidence starting to slip into her features. Not to say that the fear went entirely away, but she nods her head, "I've... been on the run before," she says, with a little smirk.