Twinkling of An Eye (IC)

[Avenger Assembled]

Maddened by the blood and carnage, the Ferals went wild, rolling around in the pools of blood on the floor and snatching at bits of gore with their teeth and hands. MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! they squealed with writhing lust on their animalistic faces, still carrying on their dead alpha's war cry even as they convulsively chewed and licked at the bloodied walls and floor. They went for the remaining heroes in their mad frenzy, but almost distractedly, as if the lure of a fresh kill was greater even than the human beings who stood amongst them and fought against them. 

[alderwitch]

Nighthawk's reflexes were fast enough to snap her head away just before the arrow exploded. After all, she had seen what the damage those sorts of arrows could do before. Even braced, though, she couldn't repress the instinctive shudder as the Victora-thing exploded all over her clothes. Years of self-imposed training, however, kept her moving. She couldn't afford to miss the opening that the blood frenzy provided. 

 

With one sharp thrust of her sneakered heel, she drove the first Feral's head into the wall it was currently licking with lethal force and the sharp, wet sound of bones breaking. Pivoting, her weight low as she tried to avoid slipping in the mess and falling into more of the goo that had once been a creature, Nighthawk kept her momentum as a short leap brought her within arm's reach of the next. Her fingers hooked into the back of its collar and she yanked - a move that Woodsman had seen her execute on humans before as she bounced the Feral's head on the floor but this time at an angle where the neck bore the brunt of the force.

 

Which left one still scrabbling towards Riley. Reaching out with ichor spattered hands, Robin grabbed the Feral's head. Her mouth twisted in a thin, flat line; Robin's hands clamped around the Feral's jaw and she wrenched hard - snapping the Feral's neck with enough force to twist the head completely backwards. Robin let the body drop from numb hands, her shoulders heaving with quick, harsh breaths. 

[Avenger Assembled]

Riley felt a strong surge of love for the warrior woman at his side - but Woodsman saw the last breathing Feral, the one Waverider had blasted into unconsciousness against the wall. Rather than waste a bolt, he stepped forward and drew his hatchet, slicing the sharp edge blade across the fallen creature's neck with a single devastating stroke that obviously came from long experience. Dropping the corpse at his feet, he turned to the others. "Didn't come here 'lone. 'Tween the Atoms and da lessers, there's over two hundred Ferals in da Goodman pack - and the Atoms stick together. If the gateway's open, more'll be comin'." He swallowed. "We gotta get to the dimensional science lab, where they keep the wormhole generator, and blow it up. And kill any of 'em we see on the way. One world died a' these things. No others." 

[Heritage]

Thankfully when the Helm of Truth manifested for Gretchen, it only covered the upper half of her face, or else things would have gotten messy when she threw up. And did she ever! She dropped to her knees and noisily emptied her guts when the 'Ferals' went into their blood frenzy, and the savage takedown the two African-American teens inflicted on them didn't help either, though of course she was relieved to see the f###ers out of commission.

 

"I think that's the last of it," she mumbled in embarrassment as she wiped her mouth with a gloved hand; the hallway now reeked to high heaven, and she wanted to get out if it now. She kept hoping this was a nightmare, the kind you have if you pass out after you've up all night playing video games. But she stubbornly refused to wake up, so it must be real; time to get with the program and work like a team. The Shrike got to her feet, shaking bits of gore off her cloak as she spoke. "Which way to the wormhole generator, and how do we take it out?"

[EternalPhoenix]

Waverider did not keep her cool. She was, as a matter of fact, freaking right the hell out. The sights and smells of this little fight had completely unsettled the Los Angeles native. She did not, however, feel the need to vomit. Weirdly, stenches had never been able to trip her gag reflex. So, let’s review. Fight? Over. Freakish enemies? All dead. Naomi had been too shaken by their…existence…to even try to save them properly. Answers about what was going on? Well, she had the gist of it by now. She was not stupid. Woodsman was from another Earth. Where these things came from. He knew what they were capable of. But something in Naomi’s soul cringed at being so…callous when it came to killing. She’d seen blood before. Even seen some of the most gruesome deaths a street level hero (namely Spectacle) could come across in their line of work. Was this how it had to be? Weren’t they supposed to be better? She pulled out her notepad…and put it back again. She exhaled quietly and signed instead, knowing that it was unlikely anyone here knew ASL, and unlikelier still that it would matter if they did.

 

<So that’s it? We just kill them, no questions asked? They’re dangerous and evil, so they die? I refuse. If there’s one thing I know, one thing that my short time as a hero has taught me, it’s that there’s always a better way. But of course, none of you can understand me. Or maybe you just think I’m naïve. So what does it matter what I think, anyway?>

 

She exhaled as loudly as a person can exhale without functioning vocal cords. <Go ahead and lead on. I can watch all of your backs, at least.>

[alderwitch]

Nighthawk glanced down at her stained fists, neither glancing up for the coup de grace, nor the wrenching, nor Waverider's angry gesturing. She took a slow, steadying breath before slowly lowering her hands to her side. The Fens native couldn't read sign language but it didn't take a mentalist to put together the angry gestures and the disapproving look on the other teen's features. 

 

"We can argue about right and wrong after," she said, swiping her hands briefly along the back of her already gross jeans, the words short but not angry. Her gaze cut to Riley, clear and grim, "How high a priority is getting you through the portal before we blow it? Cuz' we'll need to know how to close it if you're gonna be on the other side."

 

She'd already put together what the existence of the Ferals meant - that there was at least some passage from here to the world Riley came from. How that knowledge tore at her didn't show clearly in her grim expression but clearly contributed to the coiled tension in her compact frame and the fists clenched at her side. 

[Avenger Assembled]

"Goodman pack's big - the Atoms, their freak spawn, all the ones they've 'ttrached over the years. If I pop in there 'lone with no backup, 'specially if they're all up 'gainst the portal, I'll wind up..." Turning the corner, they came upon the remains of the security guard spread through the elevator lobby on the 16th floor - a human form torn apart into rags by the teeth and claws and powers of the Ferals. One of the Ferals was there, batting at the elevator doors and grunting, but Woodsman didn't break stride as he shot it through the head with casual brutality. Shaking his head, pain pulling at the edges of his voice, he went over to pull the bolt free. "We gotta blow it up. Damn." Only Robin knew why the last word burned with such pain. He wiped the bolt down, then turned to the others. 

 

Down the hall, arrows pointed towards the dimensional science laboratory - and from down the hall, past bloody human-shaped footprints, came the unmistakable sound of crunching, and groaning, and laughing. 

 

"We blow the damn thing up," he repeated, looking at Shrike. "Blast it with your thing, me with my arrows..." He swallowed. "Tesla will try and fry your meat if she's there, don't let her get inna air. Chase tries to getinya head and make ya kill yourself, shout out if you feel anything inyer head. And Maximus...let's hope they didn't bring Maximus." 

[Heritage]

Gretchen did the math; there were more than enough clues if you paid attention. She looked at Riley with as much sympathy as she could muster; people always assumed she was cold because she normally kept her emotions off her face. "We need to blow up your only way home. It's the only way to stop the incursion." Then she looked over at the clearly-upset mute girl and shrugged. "We can't actually save everyone. No one can." Then she turned back to the bowman and raised her fist, the Ring of Power glowing like a hot ember. "Let's take care of this now."

 

As they made ready to go, Shrike sent a message over to Lynn, doing her best to keep any panic out of her thoughts.

 

- Hey. -

 

- Hey! How'd the doctor visit go? -

 

- He confirmed I was going crazy, and gave me a big bottle of happy pills. You can have some, if you want. -

 

- No he didn't! How'd it really go? -

 

- It was good. I will definitely come and talk with him again. -

 

- Good, I'm glad to hear it. Will you be stopping by the store later? -

 

- Yes. Absolutely. -

 

- Cool, see you then! -

 

- See you soon. -

 

Of course, she didn't say what she really felt; she never did.

[EternalPhoenix]

Waverider wasn’t stupid. She knew she couldn’t save everyone. She knew that sometimes it was all you could do just to survive the situation. Spectacle told her, more than once. She followed in the other three’s wake, starting to feel a little…dispirited. She just…didn’t want to be the kind of person who could kill so casually. Like it didn’t mean anything. Like it didn’t diminish the person who did it, even if only a little. She wanted the lives of others to…she didn’t know, mean something. Maybe she was sheltered, as an upper middle class LA girl. Or maybe she was just naïve. No, that wasn’t it. It was that sometimes it didn’t matter what you wanted. Sometimes it didn’t matter how hard you tried, or what your intentions were. Sometimes, no matter how powerful you were, you were as helpless as any bystander. Spectacle, I’m starting to understand why you joke around so much. And I’m not sure I want to. She pulled out her notepad and wrote. She waved her free arm wildly to get everyone’s attention. [I won’t let Woodsman go through that portal alone. If the portal needs breaking, I’ll do it.]

[alderwitch]

Nighthawk paused, wrestling with what to say to that. On the one hand, the idea of watching Riley walk through the portal never to return made the muscles in her stomach clench but on the other hand, didn't Riley deserve to go home? To see his mom again? 

 

Robin reached out with her hand, closing it around Riley's bicep in a mutely supportive squeeze that was really as demonstrative as Robin got in costume. She studied him for a long moment with those grey eyes before she glanced to the other two. Her hand remained on Riley's arm, as she read Waverider's note. "You can read my lips?" She waited to confirm before continuing, as it seemed like a good plan to get everyone on the same page before charging down the hall, "'Kay. So, Riley's world has these things on it and they hunt in packs - not quite animal and not quite horror movie but an awful amalgamation in between. The space on the other side, s'got a whole lot more of 'em, so Riley's got no hope of surviving to get back to the safe area if he goes through. If we're lucky, we can blow it up on this side. If we can't, going through might be a one way trip and so you gotta make that call with eyes wide open. This part of the city... it ain't safe on the other side. So. Y'all are much more suited to doing damage to electronics than I am as all I got's my fists. First priority is getting whatever the portal is shut down. If we got more alpha-things, more'a the Atoms, I'll try to get them to focus on me so you all can do your thing."

 

That was probably more words than most people had heard Robin offer in one sitting before. "Cool? Any questions, cuz we're on the clock."

[Avenger Assembled]

Riley closed his eyes, his hand on Robin's arm, and for a moment he was back in the ruined Goodman Building and the Woodsmen were about to be ambushed by a screaming pack of Feral Atoms. Would even Robin help him if those frenzied cannibal children were beyond the door? Would she love him afterwards if she saw him put them down? Then Woodsman opened his eyes and nodded, his face a blank mask beneath his hood as he gestured by hand signal - first he'd blast down the door, then Nighthawk (the toughest of their number) would go through first. On the silent count of three, his fingers counting down for him, he fired his bow from the hip, the explosive bolt striking the center of the door and blasting it open. Plan or not, he was right behind Nighthawk as she tore down the remains of the door, making a shoulder roll into the dark corner of a scene out of the pits of Hell itself. 

 

There were a dozen Ferals here, the same yellow-eyed fiends with long, pointed fingernails and filthy, matted hair, their browned skin bearing evidence of fifteen years of wallowing in filth and dirt on the other side of the portal. The dimensional scientists were all graphically, cruelly dead - their mortal remains divided and torn, scattered about and even adorning the Ferals like cats who'd torn apart a bag of tissue paper. The Ferals themselves looked particularly wild, biting at each other and their meat like cornered rats. There was blood and worse on the walls and the floor, freely scattered across the machines, and above it all floated a nearly naked Tesla Atom, her long green hair wrapped around her like a shroud, green energies sizzling across her body with manic intensity. The pile of bones at her feet lay amid freshly scorched ash, ash she was spreading over her body with bare hands and a look of gluttonous, unrestrained fury on her face. 

 

The portal itself gaped open, a blasphemous hole in the fabric of the universe - the heroes had seen dimensional portals before, but the one in the machine now looked fundamentally wrong, wreathed with red streaks of lightning and writhing in the air like a hungry mirage. No destination was visible on the other side - which made it all the more peculiar when a figure that had been bent over one of the lab tables raised his head and looked right at them! A normal human being in black body armor, the man stood alone amid the hungry, writhing Ferals and was unhurt. On a sudden instinct, Riley raised his bow and fired, the bolt striking the man in the lower back as he leaped directly through the portal! 

 

With the figure gone, the Ferals seemed to return to normality. 

 

Well, as normal as they got - 

FEED! squealed Tesla Atom, gesturing at the heroes at the door. 

[Heritage]

Well that's just horrifying. 

 

Apparently she'd finally reached horror overload, because Gretch was kind of numb to the carnage now as she swooped into the room, doing her best to keep clear of the floor. She squinted her eyes slightly and did her best to convince herself none of this was real; it was all just pixels on a screen, and she had exactly two jobs: destroy the portal, and keep an eye on the flier. With those in mind, she began to open fire on the machinery, trying to see any possible weak spots or power cords that might be more vulnerable to her blasts.

[alderwitch]

Even her stern stomach lurched at the tableau, but although her brain flinched away from sights and - God, the smell - her body never hiccuped in its fluid motion. Nighthawk stared hard at the bizarrely normal dressed man as he vanished, freezing his image in her brain to examine at a later date. There were far more pressing matters to attend to but clearly that would demand some further investigation.

 

She bolted forward, putting her body square into the line of fire as she hoped to draw the bulk of the Feral's attention. Her sneaker hit the ground and Robin twisted, not unlike a baseball player sliding into home plate as she kept moving to come up near the edge of the feral clump. The gesture was purposeful and Nighthawk's distaste for the gore that coated her already filthy jeans was confined to a mute grimace.  "Yeah, yeah. Feed."

 

Nighthawk took grim satisfaction in the fact that her voice was nice and steady. Coming up into a coiled stance, she jerked one hand up, crooking the fingers, "Look, I'm all spattered in blood now. Mmm. Tasty, right? C'mere, you sonova-" Nighthawk volleyed forth every rude word she'd gleaned in her years on the street, each slamming into each other in a hissed torrent that sounded not unlike a prayer if one ignored the content.

[EternalPhoenix]

Naomi had had enough. She shut her eyes. From this point forward, she would just use vibrations. Nice, safe vibrations. No red everywhere that should be nowhere. No twisted things that were once human beings. Nope, none of that. She’d even gotten a little bit used to the smell. Except. Focusing on the vibrations revealed a lot more than she wanted to know about just how twisted they had become. Her eyes could gloss over torn flesh and viscera, but her skin could not. She wanted to scream. Over a year now, being unable to make any sound had been little more than an annoyance. One she was slowly getting more and more used to. But right now, the one thing she wanted most in the world was to scream until her voice broke forever. But ironically enough, she’d already done that in that parking garage. She opened her eyes again. If Woodsman and Nighthawk could do this, so could she. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.

[alderwitch]

Nighthawk exploded into sudden violent motion the moment one of the Ferals turned at her display, slamming one sneakered foot into the Feral's face with the full force of her body behind it and bowling that Feral into the one behind it. The Fens native had always fought with a lethal brutality to her her movements born of all the techniques she'd cobbled together fighting in the back alleys of the Fens but never with such power behind it. She well knew what was lethal and what was simply effective and for once, she made no effort to make sure the people she put down were able to get back up again. 

 

Dodging and weaving between filthy clawed hands, Nighthawk delivered another quick strike to the throat before the hands ripping at her leather jacket could yank her down. She had the very real fear that if she was pulled under the tide of cannibals, she'd might never get back up. Still, deadly though she was, it was with an economic efficiency, exerting enough to put the Feral down but in the quickest manner possible. Nighthawk took no pleasure in any suffering she caused - she merely wanted everyone else to walk out of the room alive at the end of it. Her own safety, though, remained a negotiable point.

[Avenger Assembled]

Woodsman raised his bow and fired a shot at Tesla Atom, an explosive bolt that shattered against her electric-green force field with a flat _bang_. All too human in a room full of inhuman monsters, Woodsman vaulted over a gore-strewn council, taking shelter from the terrible radioactive powers of Tesla Atom that he had seen cook men alive. The other Ferals he could handle with hatchet and knife if necessary - taking down the alpha female that was Tesla Atom at the height of her powers was going to be something else. Grunting in satisfaction, the radiation controller herself flew towards the heroes, hanging in the air with jerky, erratic motions like a ghost of heroes past. Not heroes anymore. 

[EternalPhoenix]

Naomi put-no, violently shoved-all unnecessary thoughts about the morality and ethics of the situation. The only thing she could do right now was fight. Unfortunately, it looked like direct violence was going to prove…difficult. She’d leave that to the people who were stuck with it. Naomi-no, Waverider-had a couple of other things she could do. She aimed a hand, mentally adjusted power output, and shot off a wave of vibrations that would have been mildly disorienting to look at, much less get hit with. These weren’t the “vibrate stuff apart” vibrations, oh no. These were the “induce violent illness” vibrations, and a helluva of a lot more than Naomi was expecting poured out of her. She knew she’d made contact with that thing that used to be a Tesla Atom, but she didn’t stick around to see what happened. She got behind something that looked sturdy and stared at her hand for a moment. Was I always that powerful?

[Avenger Assembled]

The Ferals moved in, shrieking their bloodlust, a trio each moving for those who hadn't yet moved fast enough to take cover. Three waylaid Shrike, sending her crouching back in a defensive posture as she blasted away with her ring. For all their madness, perhaps the other three recognized Nighthawk as more of a threat, closing in around her with smart pack tactics that drove her up against a console before she could react. One bit down on her arm, hard, and as she shoved that one away, the thing that had once been Tesla Atom looked up from the pile of half-digested raw meat that Waverider had just forced her to regurgitate. COOK she declared and fired a beam of searing green energy from her outstretched palm, one that struck Nighthawk squarely and knocked her back against the wall. Laughing, Tesla brought up her other hand and fired too, pinning Robin against the wall with a double-beam of searing hot radiation, hot enough that she smelled her costume beginning to burn, and then flesh underneath - an instant before the panel behind her, the metal superheated, suddenly exploded in a fiery eruption that drove shards of flaming metal right through her super-tough flesh! 

[alderwitch]

Nighthawk's 'costume' was little more than a t-shirt under her leather jacket and so it burned swiftly under Tesla's onslaught. Everyone always expects things to happen, like in the movies, with dramatic outcries and heroic injuries but Robin had learned long ago that pain - real pain - draws out not a scream but a short, strangled gasp. So when the console behind her exploded and drove shards of metal through her skin, the hiccup of noise that Robin made was almost lost under the cacophony of the battle and she dropped to her knee with only iron will and the knowledge that if she fell down under the tide of Ferals, she'd not be getting up. 

 

Not... how I pictured it. Just a little longer, Mom. Dad. Just a few more minutes.

 

With a voice that was too wet (...hit a lung, I think... maybe...) and belabored, Robin managed, "...the... gate."

Edited March 16, 2016 by alderwitch

[Heritage]

Gretchen wasn't sure if her shot had done anything, but she decided it was probably best if she kept on blasting the damned portal. She drifted closer to the ground, feeling a bit guilty floating safely over the fray, and sure enough she drew three Ferals almost instantly, though thankfully even the one who managed to hit her wasn't able to penetrate the Cloak's protective magics.

 

Stay low and do your part; allowing yourself to be targeted takes a bit of aggro off the rest of the team.

 

She raised the Ring and fired again, hoping to make a difference.

[Avenger Assembled]

Woodsman watched Nighthawk take the double-blasts that he'd seen burn men to screaming meat - he watched her blasted into the far wall and watched an explosion rip through her body, and watched her fall, dead limp, to the floor. He closed his eyes, his heart breaking, and remembered stories of the coming of the Forest, stories of the end of the world. I'm gonna finish it. He turned to Waverider, who'd taken shelter beside him, and grabbed her arm to yell instructions in her face. "The MACHINE!" he called, pointing to where Shrike's blasts were beginning to tear holes in the shrieking, overcharged console that was powering the portal back to his own reality. "SHOOT THE MACHINE!" His hands were working, pulling his magazine free to clatter on the ground, dropping a big, fat arrow into his bow that was sticky to his touch. 

 

And with that, he rose to his feet, heedless of the lesser Ferals all around them, heedless of the way home, heedless of the mysterious man who'd gone there, heedless of everything but his target. Just like a Woodsman should be. "Hey!" he yelled, catching the attention of every Feral in the room. "Remember me!?" he taunted before firing a shot directly at Tesla Atom's face, a shot that wobbled in slowly enough for her to bring up her hands to protect her face. The sticky goo inside the bolt exploded when it hit her palms, the liquid expanding on contact with air, splattering against her face and eyes and sending her spinning downward. 

 

Dropping his crossbow, Riley ran, his calves exploding with pain as he pushed his all-too-human muscles to their utmost, charging into what he was certain was an agonizing death. He grabbed Tesla Atom by the legs and shoved her backwards, sending her spiralling half in and half-out of the portal that had brought her and the other Feral horrors to this dimension, Reaching up to grab on with both hands, he held her there, snarling up at her as she tried to pull the goo off her face to fry him too. "Wrong dimension! Wrong dimension!" 

[EternalPhoenix]

Naomi had forgotten about the machine. The entire reason they’d even come this way, and she’d forgotten about it. Well, never mind that now. One thing left to do. The thing she did best. Sure, she could sicken people, blast things, and play with sound. After all, every inanimate object had a vibrational frequency where it would just break. Shatter, even. She’d already done this once today, and that heavy steel door had practically exploded. She stepped out from where she’d inexpertly taken cover, raised a hand, and let the vibrations flow. She didn’t hold back anything. In fact, she felt like she was pushing too hard. It didn’t take long. It never did. Somehow she instinctively knew the right frequencies. She wished idly for a second that she could toss off a witty one liner, and then the metal started to scream. The console was made of many different materials, each with their own shatter/break point. It shook in it’s housing, the parts inside warping, twisting, and shattering. The metals, plastics, and other materials poked. Naomi could only watch as it simply tore itself apart. She did, however, put herself between the console and the badly wounded Nighthawk. At last, something twisted where it should’ve warped, and the whole thing exploded. She tossed a glance at the portal. That ought to do it, right?

[Avenger Assembled]

The portal closed on Tesla Atom, the event horizon of the interdimensional wormhole cutting cleanly through the midsection of her body. Her eyes flared green, just once, then the bisected remains of the monstrous parody of a superhero fell to the ground with a wet, slithery sound that matched the gore that covered the room. Woodsman turned around, his hatchet in his hand, and advanced on the remaining Ferals. What followed didn't take long at all. When it was done, he threw aside his weapon and ran to Robin, and this time the hormonal teenager felt tears in his eyes as he dropped to the floor next to her. He could see her breathing - and heard himself lie as he took her hand, "It's gonna be okay, baby, it's gonna be okay..." 

 

Life was never okay. "Get the first aid kit!" he yelled, pointing to one still in its case on the wall, marred though it was by a bloody handprint. 

[Heritage]

Gretchen swooped over towards Robin, holding out her hand in mid-flight as the medkit yanked itself free of the wall and flew into her grasp. Landing beside the grievously wounded teen, she flipped open the kit and began to assess its contents; it looked like a pretty good one, so maybe they had a chance. She gestured towards Robin, and her bloodstained clothes split and peeled away from her injuries with surgical precision. Without looking at Woodsman, she began to lay out gauze, bandages and other supplies in an orderly fashion as she spoke.

 

"Are you any good at this stuff? I'm strictly amatuer, but you look like some sort of survivalist, so I assume you know a little combat medicine. I've got good hands and I know what everything's called. I can help."

 

She turned to him and offered him a quick, tight smile.

 

"Let's save your girlfriend's life."

[EternalPhoenix]

Naomi came over as well. She had no training in medical stuff and Nighthawk’s injuries were gruesome. But…she did have a working brain and functional set of hands. She held her notepad out. [What can I do?] She could feel the depletion of her stored vibrations. She’d pushed a little hard this time. And just like that, her hands started shaking violently. The suppressed terror and revulsion came back in a wave, and for the first time in ages she dropped her notebook. Her pen skittered away. Naomi Suleiman had powers, sure. She even had some mental toughness to go along with them. However, today had been quite literally the worst day of her life, stealing the crown from the day her powers exploded out of her in that parking garage. She couldn’t scream. Couldn’t sob. She could only shake uncontrollably as tears slid down her face.