OOC: CANON BATTLE POST
Maire was too focused on unraveling the tangle of threads in the hospital, hoping to find the source, to see the bed. Frank was on top of things, however, and deftly swerved. Maire's arms clutched tighter instinctively as she almost slipped off the bike, but after Frank slid to a stop at the front entrance of the hospital, she slid off of it quickly.
"Whoever's in there has done enough damage to make it nearly impossible to find them," she said quietly.
Syndie watched cautiously as the two she'd hoped would be Gifted merely avoided the bed and disappeared from her direct view as they stopped at the front doors. They were here for a reason. Neither of them were obviously injured and the news had only been reporting the hospital being visited by a Gifted for a few minutes. She gripped the minds of the others in the building and filled them with an insatiable curiosity, directed at the two that had just arrived. Those that could walk flocked down the stairs and crushed themselves against the front doors, staring at Maire and Frank.
"They violent?" Frank asked Maire, and she shook her head.
"Somebody's twisting their patterns. They're just watching us our target's behalf."
Syndie wasn't pleased; she had wanted to know if either of the pair was a Gifted, and so far all she had learned was that one of them could do some fancy driving. Clearly, she was going to have to devise something not so easily shrugged off. To this end, when the man she was manipulating happened to glance out of the hole he'd made, she turned the blue hot rage inside his heart to white. As she had planned, the widower thought this increase was due to the fact that those he was looking at had somehow been responsible for the death of his wife. With a screaming war cry, he flung himself from the gap at the mercy of gravity. The two story plunge would have at the very least broken bones. However, as that wouldn't serve her purpose, Janice pulled life out of one she had recently snatched from Death and infused it into the once normal human causing his injuries to knit quickly. The man stood up, growled, and sprinted toward Frank and Maire. He wanted nothing more than to shred them to pieces with his bare hands and to hear them beg for the mercy that his wife never received. He stood, growled as his whole body filled with rage and adrenaline, and charged at the monsters.
"Just watching, huh?!" shouted Frank as he suddenly drew his weapon, expertly aimed it, and planted a bullet in the man's leg.
Syndie hissed as the sharp, jagged fear of a wounded animal tore through her thoughts. This mortal fright was familiar, but it always took its toll on her.
"Get yourself clear, I can handle one raving lunatic."
Marie did as he suggested, not so as to be safe or stay out of the formerly dead man's way, but so she could concentrate on a battle all her own of which the old fighter was simply a tool. She knew this person who had survived such a fall without injury wasn't a Gifted himself because she could see his core pattern, but over it lay manipulations that were just another testament to the blasphemy this hospital represented to her. Now she was sure someone was twisting things to suit them, treating the Pattern as something that existed only for their sole benefit and could be perverted and twisted on a whim. Doiteain knew she had to fix it, the abominations cried out to be mended; she had to set all to right, but also prove to this heretic the fruitlessness of their endeavor.
The war hero blasted again, this time into the guy's chest (to no better result). The man's leg was thrown back by the bullet's impact, but his wounds healed even more quickly than Frank's usually did. He wasn't even thrown off of his feet! Frank had time for one more shot; this bullet invaded the man's skull right between the eyes, giving him a forced lobotomy. The patsy went down, fluids collecting under him in a statement that he would not again rise.
Janice stood in stunned silence. She had never intended for anyone to die! All she wanted was a test. She needed to find out if those two were Gifted and what their powers were. And now, because of her, an innocent man was dead. However wounded he was, he should have lived. For the good of the world, for the good of their child.
Syndie was so focused in on the man, she didn't even realize the woman was gone until she heard a voice behind her. With a start, she turned at the sound and met the gaze of one whose eyes barely held back a tsunami of unmatched anger. When the other female spoke, it was in a tight snarl of a voice.
"YOU! Do you have any idea what you've done?! The pieces of the pattern you've torn and scattered to the winds?! No, of course you don't, because you're just a slacked jaw mouth breather like the rest of them. Just because you can touch the very fabric of our realm, you think that gives you the right to do whatever you want to it. Because of you, too many people were left alive. Now, too many people are dead. Have you even seen the mess this city is in, do you even care that it will take years for this part of the Universal Pattern to be repaired? Of course not, you're just a spoiled little brat who can't be bothered with consequences."
Syndie held her ground through the verbal onslaught. And although she was quaking with guilt and anger, she sported a horrible, hateful smile as she responded.
"Are you done? Crap, your babbling is making me wish I was born deaf. I've met people like you before, ma'am. People who want to grab, push, mark, and enslave anything... or anyone, they can get their hands on. I can see into people's hearts. I've seen their pain, and I can see yours. And I'm no murderer; but I know your pretty face ain't worth saving. So why don't you get on out of here? Or should I tell your little buddy down there he's hooked up with a psycho?"
Syndie gave a confident smile, but her opponent just gave a short bark of a laugh.
"Go ahead, tell him if you think it'll make one bit of difference. It won't though, because he already knows I'm using him and vice versa. Humans use each other; it is simply our pattern. And though you can disrupt the pattern, you cannot break it. It won't let you, and neither... will... I."
Syndie was quickly realizing that things were even worse than she had first thought. She knew this woman was a sociopath, but as they care solely about themselves Janice had intended the threat of the dangerous, heavily armed maniac to startle or scare the other female. It really didn't matter what emotion her bait produced or even how little, one tiny crack in that smooth armor is all she would have needed. However, her skill with her tongue had fared no better than her Gift, and that scared her. There were still people on the second floor, since her victim from before had jumped out and no one knew she controlled him. Plus, they were too busy rubbernecking the fight below to notice that Maire had joined them yet. The teenager was playing to a hand showing aces, but she tried for a wild card by yelling at the top of her lungs.
"HELP!"
A few heads turned, and that was all Janice needed; as one man looked at the pair of women a tiny flutter of lust surfaced toward Bard. Syndie amplified it many fold until the poor victim couldn't hold back and ran as fast as he could toward his "true love." She then increased the jealousy within him when he thought about the possibility of other men looking at his own love until it was an overpowering emotion. Finally, she twisted the jealousy into rage against Maire by building it up and up and up until her loving someone else was his only thought. Much like the man that attacked Frank earlier, this man roared and dashed toward Maire. However, Syndie quickly realized her mistake and froze in fear. No one else had to die here!
That moment of doubt, that instant wherein the man slowed down gave Bard all the time she needed. She turned to him and hummed a soft tune. Just as he was about to wrap his hands about her pretty little neck, his intended victim simply slammed her fist into the center of his chest. The unintentional hit-man let out a gurgle and fell to the floor. As though she had just swatted a fly, Bard turned back to the younger woman. Her eyes were calm and utterly remorseless.
"You're powerful. but far too predictable. In time, you could have been useful. You can have helped me save us all. However, you're just too dangerous. You should feel proud, you're about to get a personal performance..."
Before Janice could figure out what that last comment meant, Bard started to sing a Note of Dissonance. Syndie felt lightheaded the instant she heard the sound, but it grew to dizziness and disorientation while a burning, no, tearing sensation spread throughout her body until it felt like every cell was trying to rip itself free from her at once.
In mad desperation, Syndie began sucking in the life force of all those around her. The people closest to the pair dropped to the ground first, then the whole group of gawkers who had been watching the battle royal from the hole the bed made, then everyone on the second floor followed by more and more of those above and below. Without any other course of action open to her, the teenage empath ran. With her muddled senses however, she took the stairs up instead of down.
Meanwhile, Frank was checking on the dead man's body and yelping orders at the civilians and cameramen that neared the crime scene. His ear perked up as soon as he heard his companion screaming bloody murder; he finally had some real work to do.
"Official ITSDA business. Clear out, now!" said the war hero as he flashed his badge. His command wouldn't convince everyone, but he needed some way to avoid collateral damage before he engaged.
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
When commands wouldn't cut it, his trusty pea shooter would. With everyone screaming and running for cover, his path up the stairs was clear. He dashed to the second floor within seconds, rolled behind the door of the battle's location, and took aim. Finding nothing but unconscious (yet still breathing) bodies, he immediately made his way up the hospital's staircase. Something was wrong. Unless he stopped them, these women could kill everyone here.
Syndie burst onto the roof, realizing it only because of the bright light of the sun. Bard followed close behind, the effort of holding the note beginning to cause face to turn red and her breath to run short. Last out was Jackson, who wasn't sure of what he was witnessing, but knew it wasn't good. Janice knew there was no place left to go, so she turned to face what might very well be her final battle. She lifted her hands out to her sides, lifted her head toward the sky, and concentrated on ingesting all the life force she could snatch from the people around her. She thought she had been at the limit of how much she could draw before, but the limit was pushed beyond what even she thought she was capable of. People all around the block fell to the ground, but there was no longer any doubt within her. She would drain, or she would die. It was as simple as that.
Moments later, as her enemy made her final approach, Janice gathered all the hate, fear, pain, and despair she could from the city, wound it up into a swirling mass within her own mind, and blasted it like a weapon at the cold, smooth shell that was Maire. The other woman held against the force assaulting her, and increased her volume. The louder Bard became, the more emotion Syndie drew into herself and the harder she attacked Bard, who became louder. The escalation kept climbing and climbing until both women's bodies and minds became little more than cables through which pain flowed.
As Jackson watched this weird fight, he noticed the world coming apart around him. The light over the door back into the building popped, then cracks began to form in the concrete of the access area, followed by the thick steel door falling off its hinges. Shortly after this, the surface beneath his bare feet shook with such force he heard windows from the floor below shattering. A chuck of the half wall that surrounded the roof for safety reasons was torn loose and plunged toward who knew how many innocents below. Frank had been a police officer in a major city for forty years of his life, so he knew that at the first sign of real trouble an evacuation was started. But with a building the size of this hospital, evacuation was going to take longer than the time it had left to shake, rattle, and roll before it collapsed entirely.
"HEY YOU TWO, KNOCK IT OFF! YOU'RE BRINGING THE WHOLE PLACE DOWN!"
With the noise level produced by Bard and the concentration Syndie was using, his words went unheard (not that they would have been heeded anyway). Frank didn't know what he could do, but he was pretty sure as the hospital gave another sickening lurch that he didn't have much time to figure it out. His experienced instincts kicked in, he ran around the edge of the roof looking for anything he could use, and finally spotted something just off the ledge.
The immortal soldier dodged several short waves of concrete debris as he moved around to the other side of the two power houses. He then backed up as far as he could, and, holding both arms out from his sides, rushed at the ladies. They were so focused on each other that they never even realized he was on the roof let alone coming at them. He grabbed them both without issue and continued to drag them forward like a bull goring a matador. Before they could figure out what was going on, all three of them were pushed down to the safety wall. Frank continued barreling toward the two other Gifted and managed to hurl them, along with himself over the wall. Soon, all three were plunging story after story. With as powerful as these two seemed to be, Jackson couldn't be sure a simple fall would eliminate them as threats. So, he carried them with him as he somersaulted into the fenced in area that contained the hospital's heavy duty mini-tower transformers.
Even with the sun shining bright overhead, the glow could be seen as connections were interrupted and ear-popping electrical crackling drowned out even the reporters yelling to be heard on camera over a rushed and harried hospital staff and panicked patients. The building went dark for a few minutes, then the emergency generator kicked in and power was restored. The area was marked off, but a youthful reporter hungry for an anchor position snuck past the boundary with his cameraman; he collapsed as soon as they entered. Sydnie had fueled herself with so much extra of the precious energy that as devastating as the impact was, she still survived. The little morsels she stole from those last two men allowed her to get up. She was still hideous and deformed from smashing into steel and concrete and being charred by the current she had interrupted. As she crawled her way out of the wreckage, she knew that her lost beauty was a trivial thing; she could draw in all she needed to repair herself, and besides, she couldn't feel her enemy any longer.
With her second kill of the day complete, she no longer wished to fight. She wanted to leave and repair herself slowly. That way, no one else would die. That way, she wouldn't have to feel the pain and shock from those who loved the men and women she drained. She had certainly felt enough of those emotions for one, or even a dozen, lifetimes. She wondered, briefly, if her survival instinct was selfish. No, she assured herself. She saved so many people in the hospital; she deserved this. She had the right to live. And Dieter, and all men like him, needed to be taken down.
Soon after Syndie left the scene, a strange, percussive coughing was heard by the armed orderlies who arrived on the scene. Bard, who had managed to worm her way into a bush, struggled to hold herself together as her attempted to let out a song of tranquility. As she recovered, the tranquil lullaby gave way to a low, triumphant tune that rapidly strung her bones back together.
"What in blazes?" asked an orderly who arrived on the scene with her male partner. She and her partner stopped and looked around for the song's source. Observing this, Bard threw her voice behind them.
"It's one of them! Get down!" said the orderly man. The man and woman flinched in fright and threw their bodies to the ground while covering their heads. When the song finally dispersed, the pair emerged from hiding, quickly placed the two living bodies within the fenced area onto gurneys, and took off like cannonballs.
Eventually, a third orderly braved the "haunted" area and took away the corpse of an unidentified nude male. Normally, he would have the remains taken away by a coroner, but with things the way they were there was no way to know when that process might even get started. So, John Doe was hauled away and unceremoniously dumped into the hospital morgue. They dumped him like raw meat onto a tray, slid him into a slot, and clicked the drawer door shut after him. That, as far as they knew, was that...
Marty was the third shift attendant in the morgue area, although he kept calling it the graveyard shift despite the fact that no one in the two years he had held the position thought it was funny. He was at the main desk studying a premed textbook for an upcoming exam, when he thought he heard a noise like one of the metal body trays rattling. When he had first taken the job he'd been jumpy, imagining he heard this or saw that. He had gotten that out of his system in the first couple of months, though. He carefully eyed the area behind him to see all was well and put what he heard down to nerves and his upcoming test. A short while later, he could have sworn he heard a muffled bang of something hitting metal hard. But again, a quick glance proved nothing to be out of order and he thought he shouldn't have had that last cup of coffee. He barely had time to get his mind back on the Latin names of body parts before there was again a sound just like the last, but louder.
The twenty year old was rattled enough at this point that he decided he was going to go to the drawers, just to double check that everything was in order so he could get back to studying. He walked up to the bank of shiny doors, and right then one in the center flew open. A naked man rolled out on a body tray and hopped down. Marty promptly fainted, and would upon recovering quit his job, collect all of his medical textbooks, throw them away, and change his major to business.
After the boy fainted, Frank made use of the desk phone to call HQ and let them know he was ready for a pick up. He also let them know he needed a double bacon hamburger, two cases of beer, his bike accounted for along with his guns, and one of his backup sets of thrift store vintage biker gear.
"Understood, Agent Jackson. Backup and supplies are inbound," the voice was crystal clear and familiar. But, Jackson wondered, who was his backup?
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:45, Thu 23 July 2015.