xxxxxP E T R A x M A X I M O F F x • x h e x x // x b22222 x •"Aye may have just gotten 'ere like five minutes 'go. But, it's significantly improved since aye arrived," he said in response to her question. She would have answered in kind, except he dipped her suddenly, and she had to focus on keeping her mouth shut to avoid revealing her surprise.
The music gradually slowed, and so did the dance, the two of them moving easily in tandem. "How's all de...?" Ross began. Petra tilted her chin up, requesting more context, which came in the form of him wiggling his fingers by his temples. "'m sure it's not easy wit all these people here." She shook her head and smiled, grateful that he'd remembered. "I'm getting better at blocking it all out, but you know thoughts - they just keep coming."
"If ye get tired of holdin' up yer barriers... Ye can always focus on my mind. Not much is goin' on up there, ya know... Besides you." His smile was so sweet and so genuine that she couldn't help smiling back, surprised at the offer. What an oddly adorable offer to make.
The blush working its way up his neck didn't escape her notice, nor did his sudden averted gaze. "Aye'm glad you brought Tobias. Mycroft was a total arse earlier."
"Oh. Uh, yeah." She decided to run with the change in topic - if Ross had felt so negatively about his remark earlier she wouldn't pursue it. "I'm glad he decided to come. This school - this administration," Petra amended, shaking her head - it wasn't everyone's fault - "has not been kind to him. It's not his fault. We're descended from the same man, except he's closer. And look how much of a difference that one generation has made."
The song ended far too soon, and their feet slowed to a stop on the floor. Looking up into Ross's face, Petra felt bad about letting the offer slide earlier. If he'd asked, the least she could do was respond, and pretending that he hadn't said anything would be incredibly rude of her. Of course she'd love to focus on him. Petra, no - He was all she wanted to focus on, just to forget everything else going on around her.
BOOM.
The force of the blast struck Petra before she'd even had time to register what had happened. It was as though her senses of the world around her had suddenly been reduced to a few snapshots: flying debris, Ross with his arms stretched out towards her, the room moving away suddenly. No, that was an illusion - it was Petra who was being thrown backwards. Fortunately (or unfortunately) there was nothing in her way, and she went straight into the wall, unable to catch herself midair or even attempt to cushion the fall with her magic.
The blow caused her to black out for a minute, losing all sense of what was happening around her while her brain attempted to sort itself out. When she came to, it was to Ross talking frantically. It took a moment longer for her hearing to return, but she could understand well enough what he was trying to say. "I'm fine. What happened?" With some help from Ross, she managed to sit up, though she felt like screaming at the pain that throbbed suddenly through her back and head.
When she was properly upright, she looked around. It was chaos, debris lying everywhere, tables lying overturned, people prone on the floor. What scared her the most, though, was that despite her mental barriers dropping the moment she'd been knocked unconscious, everything was a lot quieter than it originally was.
Then the helicraft appeared outside the hole in the wall and it got worse. Smoke grenades were thrown in and Ross leapt into action, tearing his blazer up so they could both have something cover their faces with. Thinking quickly, she tried to manipulate the air particles around them so that the gas would take longer to reach them. She couldn't hold it off forever but she could try to buy a little more time. While Ross found himself a makeshift weapon, she knelt behind the table, trying her best to manage the gas swirling around so her classmates would have a better fighting chance - but it wasn't enough. She couldn't keep the gas away, manipulate their luck, and attack the soldiers all at once, and the shock of her injuries had weakened her.
But she did what she could. Still pressing Ross's torn blazer to her face, she used her free hand to target whoever she could, firing blasts strong enough to knock them over. Watching her classmates get hurt, yet being unable to help them all, she cursed her own powerlessness, wishing that she could do more.
When she turned back, Ross was already gone, caught in combat with another soldier. She had no time to react as he tossed his compact at her, knowing too late what was happening. "Ross McCulloch, don't you dare -"
The sensation was no less strange as it had been the first time. Everything shrank away from Petra in an instant, and before she knew it she was staring at a glass shard, out at the fighting, while she was trapped inside.
"No!" Desperate, she banged her palms against the glass, which stayed solid. All around her were multiple shards reflecting different angles of the ballroom, all equally as unyielding. All another plane of the dimension she was trapped in.
Turning this way and that, Petra was treated to scenes of various people caught in battle - but one in particular caught her attention. She supposed it must have been through the visor of one of the soldier's helmets. It showed Ross being punched, again and again and again, laughing even as blood spurted from his broken nose. "Ross, no," she cried brokenly, her fists beating uselessly against the glass. When the soldier's point of view lifted, showing her the rest of the room, she tried to shove an energy blast through, hoping that it could at least pass through the dimensional barrier. No dice - nothing would go through without Ross's gun.
One final kick to Ross's prone form, and the scene before Petra swung around as the soldier headed back to the Hydra helicraft. Petra's knees wobbled and buckled under her, sending her to the floor in a heap. Face buried in her hands, suddenly despondent, she could only sob helplessly, surrounded by visions of pain and fear.
---
xxxxxR I L E Y x B A R T O N x • x h e x x // x 7a378b x •"So, you know, I had to come, but I thought it'd be incredibly boring - UN dinner functions almost always are, the absolute worst - but we did forget who's throwing this party. They might be more upstanding members of the community now, but Stark and Wayne did always know how to be good hosts. I'm a little jealous of the Worthington girl, really, I'd love to stay on here. Just standing around open-mouthed at everything you guys can do."
"Mr - uh, Sol," Riley tried to interrupt as nicely as he could, but his intentions were misunderstood. Sol only leaned in, and continued talking.
"There's no need to be modest, I know what your father used to call himself! Does self-deprecation run in the family? Carnie or not, you must have had some amount of talent to make it this far. Were you at Xavier's before? Oh, no, the Avengers trained you, that makes it all the more impressive..."
Something very wrong was going on. Riley didn't have Spidey sense like Frankie, but he did have very good intuition, and there was an abject sense of wrongness in the air. He got to his feet, not wanting to be caught off guard.
It was a surprise anyway. An explosion ripped through the room, sending Riley and Sol flying through the air. They were already fairly close to the wall, and Riley's back struck it hard, knocking the breath out of him. He lay stunned for a minute, barely able to think, ears ringing, little bolts of white shooting across his vision. He couldn't fully understand the situation, but before he really thought about it he was turning over and sitting up. Sol was lying a short distance away, pinned under a table. Distantly, Riley noted that it was the table they'd been sitting at just a minute ago, judging by the splash of red wine staining the tablecloth. No doubt from Sol's unfinished glass. Later it would be a moment he'd remember with startling clarity, but for now there was only one thing on his mind - to get Sol out, and then come back and help who he could. The students could probably handle themselves, but there was a whole party of humans that probably couldn't fight for nuts.
By the time Riley got to his feet and hurried over to the unconscious official, smoke was filling the room, obscuring his vision and clouding his lungs. He began coughing, trying to press his sleeve over his mouth and nose. No dice. As human as he was, he had better endurance, so, crouching behind the table Sol had so recently been pinned under, he ripped two swatches of fabric from the tablecloth and tied them around Sol's face first, then his own.
Cursing his lack of weapons, Riley peered out from behind the table, trying to figure out a plan of action. The Hydra soldiers didn't seem too interested in him, aiming for a select few students. Riley's heart sank, knowing he couldn't help save them. But there was something else he could do.
Debris littered the floor around them. Lots of cement, some cloth of various origins - but more importantly, glass. And Riley didn't need a bow and arrow to be a sharp shot. He picked up a few good-sized shards of glass, stashing them in his blazer pocket. No point drawing attention right now. Already Sol was beginning to cough and choke behind him - a good sign that he was coming to, but also serving to draw the toxic gas further into his lungs.
Riley hefted Sol upright, managing most of his weight. The man was coming to, his grip around Riley's shoulders tightening. "Hey, if you can hear me... I'm getting you out of here. Hang on for a little longer." He tried to keep close to the wall, avoiding drawing attention as much as possible.
"Hey!" The shout stopped Riley dead - one of the soldiers had stepped directly into his path. Riley was tall, but this guy was taller, and decked out in riot gear with no visible weak points.
Thinking quickly, Riley lashed out, kicking his right leg out to clip the soldier's jaw. The soldier's head snapped backwards, and his helmet came loose, exposing some of his neck. With one arm around Sol, Riley gripped one of his glass shards between two fingers and snapped it towards the exposed sliver of flesh. His shot was true, embedding itself deep in the soldier's jugular, who stumbled backward with a strangled cry. No time to stick around and finish the job - Riley kicked him backward, smashing his heel into the soldier's now-exposed nose, and hurried on with Sol.
Almost out the ballroom... Through the chaos, he passed a familiar figure. "Andrew! Little bit of help, please," he gasped, gesturing at the official on his shoulder. "Just gotta get him outside, then we can come back for the others..."
He managed to make it to the exit, one foot out the door. Yet suddenly Sol's weight, the toxic gas, the aches from being flung against the wall, everything came crashing down on Riley. He was only so human. His legs went weak, the world wobbled, and everything was tilting as it faded into the darkness. Riley went crashing to the floor, unconscious.
---
xW Y N N E x W O R T H I N G T O N x • x h e x x // x 6e6e6e x •His tone was final, and so rooted in its surety that Wynne almost laughed. What an idea to have about her, Wynne Kinsley Worthington, the girl who was homeschooled by the best teachers money could buy until she was of university age because her parents feared her becoming a target for both her wings and her status; the girl whose father used to go on secret trips to some secluded forest with her to teach her how to fly because he didn't want anyone accusing him of developing another weapon, because her wings would atrophy and wither away if they weren't used; the girl who was repeatedly ostracised even in university, the insults and fear following her wherever she went, even from her own professors; the girl who'd, like her father before her, attempted to cut her own wings off, and when that didn't work began turning her blade to other parts; the girl who'd overcome all other odds to become one of, if not the youngest United Nations delegate in history. People will skirt around you didn't even begin to cover it.
Not that she'd ever tell him as much, though. That was her burden to bear by virtue of being Warren Worthington's blood, and she wasn't going to complain about the circumstances of her birth.
Then a blast shook the building. Instinctively, the way they'd always done when she was younger and lacked impulse control, her wings unfurled from their tightly tucked position to envelop her. They weren't as sturdy as her father's, but worked in a pinch to protect her face and head. Most of the debris that came her way struck her wings and bounced off, but some shards stuck fast, slicing and sticking where they landed. Wynne cried out in pain as blood spots marred the grey feathers, and lowered her wings gently, letting them drag on the floor beside her.
A sudden movement on her right drew her attention. Tobias Lehnsherr was on his knees, a path of metal pieces in front of him, and Wynne instinctively knew what he'd done. For her, a stranger and quite likely the enemy, from his point of view.
"Tobias," she called, only at that moment the whirring of a helicraft filled the room. It pulled up alongside the gigantic hole blasted in the wall, and smoke bombs were tossed in.
In a panic, Wynne backed away, her wings extending to their fullest. Her only goal was to avoid breathing in the gases, and so she did the only thing she could think to do in that instant.
Her wings began to beat a heavy rhythm. The force lifted her a couple of feet off the ground, and she tucked her arms close to her body to avoid hindering their movement. At their full length, her wings were a sight to behold, cutting through the air to fan the toxic gases away from herself. She didn't need to press cloth to her face like the other students, or gas masks like the soldiers. For a moment, buoyed by her adrenaline, she almost forgot the danger, suspended in midair, doing what she was supposed to do. What she was born to do.
"Don't hurt her!" Wynne spun around to find a line of soldiers advancing on her. One ordered, "That's Worthington's kid. She'll be worth something for sure." He laughed at his own bad joke, readying a syringe. "Although I'm not sure her wings are really any use, if she's busy folding them out of sight for the United Nations."
The first shot went wide as Wynne descended quickly to plant both feet back on the floor. The second shot tore through the wrist of her left wing. Blood spattered on the floor behind her and ran thickly through the feathers below, and for a moment Wynne's vision went white with pain. She lashed out, sweeping her uninjured wing across the line of soldiers, knocking them down like a row of pins, then expelled feathers from her wings like projectiles at the ones that were still standing, slashing indiscriminately.
She was close to the doors. If she could only...
It came from one of the soldiers still in the hall. A bullet pierced her side, lodging there. She screamed, falling against the wall. Almost there. Almost there. It kept repeating in her mind, as though by stepping foot out the door she could be home safe.
"Leave her! We've got what we came for. Let's go," the same soldier from earlier called behind her. Whoever it was that had targeted her backed off, heading back for the helicraft. Half-formulated prayers all she could think of as she struggled to leave, the toxic gases had still entered her system anyway. One hand still pressed to her bleeding torso, her knees finally gave way, and she slumped against the wall, legs folded underneath her, wings still dripping gore onto the floor.
---
xxxxxxxxxJ E N S E N x J O N E S x • x h e x x // x 2b4f81 x •"Your mother trained you well," she agreed, trying to follow his lead closely so she didn't tread on his feet. It happened anyway, her foot landing squarely on top of his as she stepped the wrong way. "Sorry! I seem to be causing a lot of damage tonight." Her rueful grin made it clear that there was no ill intention, only her own uneasiness. "You know, I've been thinking -"
She was interrupted by an explosion. There was hardly any time to react, only to push Alec behind her and raise her arms to shield her head, digging her heels in to keep her ground. Bits of concrete and metal flew in her direction, scoring her forearms in crimson.
It was over as quickly as it had started, and when Jensen looked down she saw that her heels had gouged lines in the floor from her strength. Far more concerning, though, was the damage done to the wall - a hole had been blown through it, revealing the sky outside. She turned to Alec, panicked. "Are you okay? Can you -" This time, she stopped herself short, acutely aware of what was wrong. He doesn't have his hat.
As if on cue, as if she'd just asked the universe to give her something worse, a helicraft pulled up alongside the new exit to the ballroom, ejecting first smoke bombs and then soldiers in full riot gear. Jensen's heart stopped cold, and she glanced around, trying to assess the situation.
"Alec - Alec, listen to me, cover your nose and get out of here right now," she said clearly, pushing him in the direction of the doors. With all her abilities intact, she could perhaps buy a little time, even against that whole swarm of soldiers if she had to.
She took a step forward, and her foot finally landed wrong, the one action she'd been fearing all night. Her ankle twisted, the muscles protesting loudly as it sprained. Oh god, those stupid shoes. Without bothering with the straps, Jensen reached down and yanked them off, the ribbons breaking at the root.
Already she could feel the gases' effect taking place, seeping into her bloodstream and clouding her brain. Not so much that she still couldn't function, though. Taking a running start, she leapt onto a soldier's shoulders, twisting in midair so they both went crashing to the ground. Reaching down, she grabbed his head and snapped his neck cleanly.
Something zipped past her. She turned, distracted, and met Wren's eyes as she was pulled past, some kind of contraption around her...protruding through her body...
Then she saw where the line attached to her best friend ended. "Wren! No!" she cried, horrified, starting to sprint towards her. But it was too late - Wren landed inside the helicraft, and Jensen could only watch as her head was twisted the same way she'd just done to the soldier lying lifeless at her feet.
She had to get to Wren. That was the only way she could fix this all. She began cleaving a path through people and debris alike, launching herself at whatever target she could find. Years of training and practice went out the window as she kicked and punched wherever she could reach, which wasn't a very good strategy but worked, for the most part...
Until she miscalculated, and received a well-placed fist to her jaw for her troubles, a blow that sent her reeling backwards and snapped her lip into her teeth, warm blood spurting into her mouth almost immediately. She spat it aside, and prepared to retaliate, jabbing her elbow in the soldier's direction - but he was too fast. Weakened by the gases, the pain of her injuries (there was probably a cracked rib among that number), and the shock of seeing what had happened to Wren, Jensen was no match for her opponent, who was faster and had more defensive gear on his side. Her caught her elbow and pulled her forward (remembering how Alec had pulled her towards him just minutes ago) so she went sprawling, hitting the floor with her hands and elbows first. Before she could get back up he was on her, pressing his knees into the small of her back.
Something thin and unspeakably cold pierced the skin of her neck, and right before she passed out she registered someone slamming her head forward, breaking her nose in one go.