2013.10.24 - Pestilence and Famine Strike

The shriek of city ambulances is far, far away from the center of all the tumult. And ground zero? A double-decker sight-seeing bus is taking up room on both sides of the wide boulevard with angry commuters (as only New York can create) beeping their horns and yelling epithets from their windows.

It's coming into the evening now, and the sun is setting, obscured by grey clouds. It's only reached warmish weather when the day hours were burning, but now, the temperature is dropping.

There are people stumbling off the bus now, pushing through the double doors in the front where the driver sits... with blood dripping from his eyes and mouth, his forehead pressed against the top of the wheel, no unconscious.

Those passengers, tourists of the great city, fall out of the bus, tripping on the others, virtually trampling on the others as they try to get free, to try and get to some semblance of safety.

Ha.

On the top rail of the open area of the double decker bus, an iridescent green figure perches like a gargoyle, his sword out and dripping with a mixture of ichor and blood. It won't be hard to find his victims in the least. Empty, featureless yellow eyes look down on the scene, pleased.. and as he rises from his crouch, the old-style pirate's jacket billows slightly in the breeze made by movement. He looks.. pleased with himself, this Harbinger of disease. Pestilence.

"I do not think," his voice is a hoarse, hollow sound, his words accented, "we have done near enough."

A walk in the park prior to the whirlwind of salons and attire for a homecoming dance is just a bit too... normal for a being outside of her timeline. So it goes. Clarice's curiousity -- and concern -- got the better of her upon hearing the cry of the ambulances against the backdrop of an intensified road rage that rippled nearby. With a frown, she told Kaydin he could join her- if he wanted, but she was fairly quick to open a portal and pop through... giving him the opportunity to join or not. Though the swirling purple and the *blink* seem harmless enough, it's not very fun for a first-timer. It's a bit of a wrenching sensation, really. It's into a side street that the portal dumps her and she starts moving towards the source of the rucus quickly, old instincts taking over.

"Still fun, though."

The voice in response sounds raspy and parched, matching the individual that happens to be forming the words. Speaking out through a window just beneath where Pestilence sits is a very unhealthy looking passenger, the skin dried paper-thin across his sunken face. What should have been a midlife-crisis-er looks like someone nearly twice his age, a formerly pudgy body now shriveled and looking about ready to do a swan-dive into the nearest open grave.

"I don't know, these guys? No staying power."

Like shedding a jacket the weakened man collapses onto the floor, now flanked by the Harbinger known as Famine. She's looking fairly pleased as well, mock-dusting off her hands while effortlessly stepping over the former host, left too weak to move. And sick. He got hit by both of them in one sitting.

"I don't know, wanna go catch a movie or something?"

"What's the hold up?" the blonde in the back of one of the ubiquitous yellow cabs in the city asks her driver, leaning forward to get a better look out of the grimy front window.

"Dunno," the driver replies, fiddling with his dispatch radio to see if there's any news on there. "But, ya know. Rush hour in the city, hey? It takes as long as it takes."

"Sure," the woman replies, sitting back a moment. She slides her phone out of her pocket and checks it again, frowning. Still not messages. It's been days.

She's passing 'starting to get concerned' and moving into 'seriously concerned' at a rapid pace.

Then, however, the incoming ambulance sirens start to blare and a crackly voice comes across the cab's radio, telling the driver about some "mutie pirate freak with a sword and -- get this! -- a tail" that's just attacked a tourist bus.

The blond leans sharply forward. "A who with a what?" Her voice is sharp.

"Beats me lady," the cabbie says, even as the woman starts raking through her purse for her wallet. "Welcome to New York. Home to all the freaks, geeks, and--Hey!" he twists around as she pops the door open, starting to swing her legs out.

She tosses bills at him. "Keep the change," and slams the door closed behind her, starting to sprint through traffic toward the scene of the crime.

Kaydin follows after Clarice and he draws his sword. "By Poseidon..." He mutters in shock to the carnage about him. He then takes a breath from his mask before pulling it off and putting it into his satchel, a vial pulled out, opened and downs the contents. He coughs and grunts, gasping the air as if trying to breathe before finally seeming to breathe. "Any plans?" He asks the pink skinned woman.

While it's easy just to grab the rail and leap off, that's not what the acrobatically-inclined pestulant-elf does. Oh no.

-BAMF!-

It's another noxious cloud, filled with the toxins that have levelled past civilizations, that forms behind him as he emerges. Looking up at the window where the husk of a man slides to the floor near Famine, Pestilence smiles, a deeply disturbing one that flashes those fangs. "There's an opening gala. I think David Hasselhoff is in it." Why not go all star!

With one more *bamf*, the elf is back on top of the bus, hopping over one chair and then the next, jumping down easily over the front of the bus, holding out his tail for Famine to grab with her own. "He's very populiert in Germany for some reason."

Behind them, on the bus, one by one, the passengers are succumbing to the effects of disease and famine. Phlegmy coughs begin to sound, rattling lungs as they reach for their breath.

If only they hold out so more will come in contact with them.

"Nope!" Plans? Who needs those? In Clarice's experience, plans lead to more death. The pink elf (not to be confused with the deadly blue ones) moves at a rapid run through traffic and the like. Fingers fidget and she slows only a few measures as she starts forming short javelins made of a glowing pink material. One, two, three. It's by then that she's nearing the epicenter and sees that noxious cloud. Hears that familiar sound. But the scene... the scene is not familiar. Her brows furrow deeply and she looks... lost. White eyes dart around, seeking out the fuzzy blue elf. When he returns to the front of the bus, she cannot help but shout out: "Nigh-" but her cry is cut short, seeing the state he's in. Instead, she falls back on her heels and, in a rare move... actually takes a good look around herself.

"Oh hey, I love parties that I haven't been invited to! I wonder what color of sludge I can turn the champaigne into..."

Car horns and roadside congestion mean nothing to Famine beyond having -yet more people- she can leech off of. Once off of the bus proper she has a fangy grin of her own, holding a palm out to -Blamf!- a nearby car, shattering the window with a blue-streaked blast while surrounding the vehicle with a pale cloud of rust-red particles that may well be pulling the color right out of the paint. "Hey! No cellphone use while operating a motor vehicle!"

The dust quickly invades the car's ventilation system and starts choking both the engine and the driver alike, causing both to cough and sputter while the skin upon the driver's knuckles begins to crack from becoming overly dry.

Famine blinks once while looking down at her own hand before looking back to Pestilence. "Didn't know I could do that. Did you know I could do that..? I did -not- know I could do that. Heck, that was kinda fun."

Another nearby car is targeted and lashed out upon with both of her hands, the sharp crack of energy very nearly rolling the sedan onto its side amidst another thick red dust cloud.

The yell that she happens to hear isn't the terrified howl of a motorist or bystander so much as someone..attempting..to use Pestilence's former name. Congratulations, Clarice! Now there's a set of glowing red eyes falling in her direction.

"Hey, did our Benefactor mention anything about turning one of us pink?"

As the full scope of the chaos becomes apparent, the blonde's stylish outfit shimmers and morphs while she runs, speaking quiet words of power. Presently, she lifts herself off the ground, clad in the combat leathers that have become her go-to uniform, rather than the red and gold vamp pieces that were so much more stylish when she was younger.

"Kurt?" Her voice doesn't carry, but the question is on her lips, nonetheless. She sees that gargoyle figure -- iridescent and green, rather than blue. But the form is unmistakable.

As is that of his companion. "Oh, Teej... no..."

The sorceress, Daytripper, hovers in mid-air, staring at what has become of her family, and the destruction they've wrought... stunned.

Shock, however, slowly turns to anger. She's not sure who did this to them, but she knows it wasn't anything they'd choose. Oh, no.

And when she finds that sonuvabitch, he's going to wish she'd just kill him, rather than doing what actually comes to mind.

Kaydin runs for them and leaps over the cars and brings his sword forth. "Alright...Surface custom says we are supposed to give you a chance to give up and surrender." He says to them as he glares at them. He looks to those present who seem to know the two blue people and looks back at the elves. "These two friends of you both?" He asks of the women.

"Und dancing with the lovely ladies," Pestilence adds, swirling around briefly in a step that mimics a fancy waltz. Doesn't help that he still has his sword drawn, however. As Famine discovers her new ability, he pauses, his tail flicking up as the offer is ignored for more fun opportunities.

"Huh. I didn't know you could either." Though, that's not a big surprise.

As Famine goes after a car, Kurt takes a leap up onto a taxi's hood that is pulling out with a new fare, his sword in hand. Leaning over, he plunges the weapon into the windscreen, and the car veers, running side to side, trying to dislodge the undislodgable.

It's that aborted yell, however, that gains Pestilence's attention, much like Famine's. It's almost as if those pointed ears under the tricorn hat perk at the sound, and with those red, glowy eyes, his own yellow, empty, malevolent orbs turn to that same direction. A smile begins to crease his face, those fangs appearing once again, and immediately, he's off the car, and bamfing in rapid bursts, leaving behind those clouds of infernal aether poisoned by death.

Bamf!

Up and over cars like a game of leapfrog, the Harbinger formerly known as Nightcrawler comes closer, coming even to where Famine is.

"Pink? Mein Gott. That would be frightening. But.." and here, his tones slow, "Nein..." Mutant.

The hovering, however, in mid-air catches the fuzzy green-elf's attention, and it's a long, lingering stare that she's given. If there is any recognition in those empty eyes, even the closest of friends and relatives won't see the flicker.

There isn't. Not one of any positive measure, anyway. There is that niggling understanding of -who- the person is, -what- the person is. But what to him? Now, someone that poses some danger. Concern.

Pestilence's sword is still out, however, and there is a brandishment elsewhere? Really?

Straightening from his spot beside the elfette that was formerly known as Talia, the iridescent green elf takes a step, leaps into the air, and is suddenly GONE.

BAMF!

... and lands right behind Kaydin, about three foot up, ready to take that first swipe with his sword, allowing the death cloud to lower and move to settle around Kaydin. "Thank you for the warning."

-SLASH- and the aim is directly for the young man's neck as the elf lands upon his feet with expert ease.

There's a look over to Amanda, but Clarice's attention is not torn so easily. When the other speaks, she pales. Her skin almost becomes a white-ish pink as she moves forward a few paces. The young woman swallows, dropping through a portal and re-appearing on top of a car that's been abandoned.

It's in dropping through a portal that Clarice comes to land on an abandoned vehicle. Not near, but nearer. She shifts into a more readied crouch; instincts taking over more fully now. White eyes remain locked to the two familiar-but-not figures. Expression on her features is one of pain and sadness.

But then the-mutant-formerly-known-as-Nightcrawler is heading towards her new friend and Clarice lets fly one of the javelins she's formed, throwing it at him. She doesn't entirely expect it to connect, knowing well what he's capable of, but there's a hope it'll give the Atlantean enough time.

Mutant. Mutant. ..What? Fish out of water? Famine's attention is divided amongst the three new faces entering the playing field. Stronger than the others, clearly being less affected by the corruptive auras the two Harbingers now possess. That alone tells her all that she needs to hear. -They- aren't the targeted ones. But, those three do appear to be targeting the genetically twisted pair.

"Quick, I need a thing!"

Famine likewise starts leapfrogging across the tops of vehicles as she chases down one of the fleeing pedestrians, suddenly plunging into the middle of her back with nothing more than a blip of magenta-hued light. Just like that she's gone, and the human woman is no longer running. Instead she turns around, catching her purse within a hand and grinning broadly while adjusting the lenses perched upon her face.

"You wouldn't hit a lady in glasses, would ya?"

A spin of the body, a spin of the purse, and the entire handbag goes flying back in Amanda's direction. Face-level. Even by the time she spins back around that blonde woman's face is looking pasty and parched, her eyes appearing a bit sunken.

"Happy handbag!"

Much like with Pestilence, sight of both Amanda -and- Clarice should have triggered something within the back of her mind. Those memories are currently shorted out, locked away within the mental shadows of her thoughts.

The violet blast of magic that flashes from Daytripper's hand handily deflects the flying handbag. Though, as the sorceress realizes just what Evil!Nocturne has done she suppresses a string of foreign expletives -- and the desire to yell something to the effect of, 'Talia Wagner, you get your tail out of that woman this very instant, you hear me?!'

Because... She's not Mom.

And, because, indeed, there is no hint of levity or even sarcastic field humour about the urban witch. Something has turned her family into dark mockeries of themselves. And, frankly, she's still trying to figure out just what has happened to them.

Pulling up a violet shield around her, she sends a flash of concussive magic out behind her to give her usual levitation a bit of a rocket and heads straight for the quickly withering woman.

Withering?

"What the hell happened to you?" she demands, streaking towards the possessed woman -- fully attentive to just which way Nocturne bounces... if she does at all. If she doesn't, Amanda's going to seriously lose this game of chicken.

Kaydin was alert and when he saw the teleporter teleporting, this prepared him. So when the sword came for him from behind, he immediately raised his sword behind him, turning to parry the sword. He held his breath with the toxic cloud about him. Kaydin moved with expert ease as well. As he saw the spear flying, he tries to leap out of the way of the spear and the toxic cloud, taking a breath of clean air.

If there's one thing that the Harbinger formerly known as Nightcrawler does well is swordplay. And, the fact that the now green elf doesn't only play on the ground, but in the air at all possible angles? Makes him a formidable foe.

Add 'combat bamf' into the mix, and there is a creature that can actually fight Wolverine to a draw. (Which is why Kurt enjoys sparring with the Canuck.)

The swing is aborted and turned into a feint, and the moment the sword is thrust as a seeming afterthought, the elf jumps into the air again, disappears in the soft pop of a BAMF! Only to reappear on another side... and it's a rapid run of BAMF*BAMF*BAMF!! that the elf begins, each taking less than the beat of a heart, and each accompanied by a controlled sword thrust meant to nick. Not impale.

All he needs is an opening.

Of course, with each teleport, the air grows heavy with disease. Contagion that man once thought was controlled.

The javelin tossed in the air flies by, a *poof* through one of the clouds left behind in one of his many, rapid teleports.

Something is stinging Clarice's eyes. There's something all too familiar about this. She scrubs a hand across her brow and leaps from the car into a portal of her own.


 * BLINK*

The javelin hits a mailbox and sends it a few blocks over. The United States Postal Service will have a fair bit to deal with sorting that mess out.

Where she reappears is near the two swordfighters. "Nightcrawler!" Blink's voice strangles a bit at the end; hoping to reach out to him; praying to find the elf within; knowing deep down that there's no chance like this.

With each of the rapid-fire sword thrusts, she waits for a clear moment. Searches for an opening. And if she finds one? She'll try to tackle Kaydin out of the way and into another portal.

Aha..! Famine's got Amanda's attention now!

"Turned over a new beef--LEAF, turned over a new -leaf!- Man, this new guidance really messes with the head. It's all this 'go look for food!' thing, I tell ya." Pause. "..Or maybe it's what this gal had for lunch."

Either way! As Amanda starts to close the distance Famine uses the possessed woman to get a running start right back at the sorceress. Each elongated step only further decays the host body around her, stretching skin taut against bones as her very clothes seem to hang heavy about herself.

Then she does something mean. The possessed lady leaps for Amanda an instant before Famine leaps out of the possessed body, turning the other (vastly malnourished) woman into a ragdoll missile. It's all just one big distraction, however. What she wants is a stronger host.

Now she's trying to possess Amanda.

"Tora tora tora!"

It's a big game of chicken. As Famine launches the poor woman through the air, Amanda twists, spinning and calling out for a shield to catch the body as it hurtles at her. The shield scoops the woman and redirects the body, sliding her to the ground in a bony heap.

Of course, her own momentum brings Amanda's back around toward the black-furred, red-eyed hunger demon. Even as she feels her friend's claws wrap over her shoulders, Amanda cries out a single word of power to charge the wards she has etched into her armour in an attempt to repel the attack. She has no idea how much more powerful TJ might have become, but if she's lucky, it might buy her a moment or two -- crucial seconds in which she might dislodge her possessive rider.

Maybe.

Kaydin possesses reflexes and strength beyond the normal man, combined with his combat training and knack for weaponry, he is a pretty good fighter, and if the man is simply trying to nick, then he is in for a surprise when one of the cuts hits the armor and the leather seems to be much more durable then normal leather. Course the moment the realization comes, Kaydin grinds his sword down the man's sword an tries to reach and grab the man before he could teleport away, Course Clarice grabs him and tackles him through a portal before he could grab the harbinger.

Nightcrawler!

The name catches the breeze, and if there is a tail flicker of recognition? It's covered by the fact that this kid is making a grab for him.

Swords slide, each along the other, and the elf leaps into the air, ready to kick the lad in the face. It's when Blink does her thing, that portal sucks the pair through, and blinks shut, leaving Pestilence back on the ground, annoyed.

Leaping into the air, the now green elf snarls, showing those sharp, pointed fangs once again, and BAMF! disappears into the aether, leaving his microbes behind, only to land upon that tour bus once again, perching on the top rail.

In the distance, those ambulances are getting closer, even as those stricken begin to fall in the bus, around the bus. Good Samaritans are trying to aid, but instead are finding themselves incapable... and in some cases, quickly overcome and incapacitated.

Pestilence has striken. Famine.

"Zeit zu gehen!" Time to go! "Schnell!" Hurry! Now.


 * BLINK*

The pair tumble to a stop on the lawns of the Xavier Institute. Blink lets go of Kaydin once they're through and she's panting. Partially from the effort put into moving so quickly and partly from the emotions that boil and threaten to rise up in her.

"Know... know what I said..." She gasps for air. "About... where I came from?" Heels of hands go to eyes as she gets to her feet. "I think... I think... We need to tell someone."

And then it sinks in that this... tonight... is Homecoming. And she has a date. Clarice offers a few choice swears learned from mentors in another time and another place. "Ever been to a Homecoming? It's another of those... customs. We'll find the right people to talk to there, but I don't wanna scare everyone. There's kids here that aren't suited to a fight."

And Blink will ask Kaydin to wait because, even if she missed her appointment at the salon, she isn't going to let that new dress go to waste. Even if she is coughing on the way...

Wards..?! -Wards?!- People aren't supposed to have -wards- that keep Famine from taking them over! That's cheap! Fortunately for Amanda, this Former Blue Foomper's base powers haven't been made any more powerful so much as given that little something extra to make them more approprate to her renaming. Said extra little somethings also aren't quite as effective on other mutants, but hey! Doesn't stop her from trying!

"Whup--nope--c'mon now--!"

Failing actually getting -hold- of Amanda she's very likely going to leave the other woman covered in scratches, no thanks to all of the sharp armored metal bits and pieces now adorning her figure. When possession proves to be more trouble than it's worth she fires another pair of Hex Bolts straight into the ground, adding a pair of extra potholes into the street along with a blinding cloud of rusty brown particles before leaping clear of the sorceress.

Right back to Pestilence.

"C'mon brutha, dem germs aren't gonna spread themselves! ..Well..okay, maybe they will, but -I've- got places to go!"

Amanda's power crackles, though she can't help but feel she's been hit in the gut with a heavy steel 2x4, that her stomach is turning itself inside out and she's fighting for breath. Thus, when Famine releases her, she pitches forward into an unsteady roll only years of practice actually allows her to complete. She comes unsteadily up to her feet, watching the pair bounce away and starts running after them.

"NO!"

But, it's too late. They can teleport... and she can only guess at where they'd go.

Thus, standing in the middle of the road, as ambulances converge and destruction settles around her, Daytripper clenches her fists and doesn't quite resist the urge to release her anger with a gutteral shout. "Aaaaahhhgggh!"

(Fortunately, she does manage to contain her desire to let loose with a barage of magic bolts that can do nothing to help the situation.)

I'm going to need help.

Time to call Westchester.

Kaydin gasps fresh air once he comes through the portal and his sword drops from his hand to the ground where he stopped. He punches the ground in rage. "Neptune's beard!" He yells as he mutters something in an unknown language, probably atlantean. The very air about him darkens a bit and becomes a bit colder but after a few deep calming breathes, he regains his composure and the area about him lightens and warms back up. "Agreed. And after we are done talking to your people I will need to get in touch with the Titans, they are the group I fight alongside." He says calmly finally as he reclaims his sword.