damned_institute | Nightshift 30: Sun Room

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Nightshift 30: Sun Room

[[from here]]

He wasn't sure just what awaited him as the boy with pale hair and glowing eyes dragged him across the tiled floor, but he was so bruised and beaten after their one-sided fight that he couldn't do much to stop it. After hearing the rumors about what happened to patients here, he didn't have high hopes. The world stopped spinning for a moment when they reached the railing. Was he just going to be left on the floor here?

It didn't look like he'd be quite that lucky. The boy floated into the air, carrying him along like a sack of potatoes before tossing him unceremoniously into the Sun Room below. He fell like a rag doll and hit one of the tables on the way down. He heard as much as felt the cracking of bones as he landed in a heap on the floor. His upper arm felt strangely warm on the left side, only to realize it was because the bone had broken through the skin. Yuuhi bit back a cry of pain, wishing the fall had knocked him unconscious too, then at least he wouldn't have to feel the pain for a while.

His flashlight was gone, lost in the scuffle, and he looked nervously into the darkness, well aware of what easy prey he would be. He had to move, before someone or something caught the scent of his blood.

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Logan instantly recognised two of the the assailants; Subzero and his 'robot' buddy. Whilst he had no real opinion regarding the latter, he considered SubZero to be an ally, although he did not know the man that well. Regardless, the Chinese assassin had shown him some measure of respect, and that was as good enough an excuse as he needed to get stuck in. Moving like a bolt of lightning, Wolverine's rage erupted as he lunged himself unthinkingly at the aggressor, aiming his knife for the man's throat with a downward thrust, screaming like a construct of hell itself. Everything he'd recently learned, everything he was now feeling, had pushed him over the edge. Someone had to die, and at this stage, he really did not care who that was, or if he would regret his decision come morning. His eyes flashed red as he brought the knife down upon the victim.

And he thought he was the bloodthirsty one! Brock had to grudgingly admit that he was impressed (only a little!) when Logan sprinted right past him - the guy could move pretty damn fast for being so damn short - and went at the weirdly dressed man with the knife.

Man, if that was Parker? He probably would've been wavering about the morals of it, was it right or wrong, maybe he should just web up the bad guys and leave them for the cops to sort out. Not just rush their asses like that, no ifs, ands or buts. Logan was still wavering on Brock's shit list just for associating with Parker, but he did get some points for having brass balls there.

Brock hung back with Parker, watching with some amusement as Logan just went out for someone's blood. "Well. Guy's got class, you gotta admit."

Not that it was his fight. He wasn't going to get into a fight when they just got healed.

Marcus kept a close eye on the fight, the three patients appeared to work quite well together, coordinating their attacks and surrounding their opponent.

Of course, whatever that kid was, he was clearly a lot faster than any patient could be in this place. The kid was fast enough that sneaking past would be just about impossible.

That didn't mean that Statesman was exactly happy when Logan went charging off towards the fight, though.

"Go after him, try to stick the enemy to the ground if you can," Marcus instructed Spiderman. This fight would probably be a lot easier if the enemy couldn't move around as much.

Honestly, Peter wasn't too surprised when Logan charged forward with no abandon. After seeing the rage he'd been sent into in the bathroom the other night, he had almost been expecting it.

It didn't mean it was smart, especially since they didn't know what they were dealing with. Peter sent a quick glance to Eddie at his comment. Class? He wasn't sure if that was the right word for it, but he wasn't in the mood to respond. People were in danger, and he wasn't quite sure how to handle it.

When Statesman butted in and gave him an order, Peter stared back, glad that his indignant look wasn't visible. Was this guy serious? Still, he needed to make sure that things didn't get worse, especially with the smell of burnt flesh in the air.

He started toward the fight, but hesitantly. It looked like the group of three had the kid surrounded, so there might not be any reason to get involved after all.

[From here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/308047.html?thread=25270863#t25270863)]

Snapped neck, cracked face, stabbed chest, and damaged arm now repaired, his eyes flashed blue when he touched down on the rug again. Six targets had been dealt with, and now there were four more. One was charging at him with a knife in hand. The aggressor was fast... but no faster than the previous aggressors.

His hand snapped up, blade in hand. The weapon snapped open, displaying the other two blades of the Fang. Sparks flew as the two weapons clashed. One eye visible to Logan, it swiveled up to stare at the man. A grating, threatening wheeze left his jagged-toothed mouth. He couldn't speak, but the message was clear. He held his position, waiting to see what Logan would do...

A mild surprise flicked briefly across the small remaining rationally-thinking part of Logan's mind as he continued to race towards his prey. This broken, mangled thing was standing its ground, almost goading him. Clearly it did not know what he was capable of. Then again, if he was thinking clearly right now, he might have thought twice about attacking something that had just made three people disappear. But he wasn't thinking clearly. He was just charging, and snarling.

He came at it quickly, knife in a reverse grip, and jumped just before he hit, using the extra momentum of gravity to give more force to his strike as he brought the knife downward, aiming for a direct, instant kill.

Brock was more than happy to just sit and watch as Logan bum-rushed the...the whatever-it-was. He wasn't even sure if it was entirely human, with the way it moved and breathed. Maybe it was something from Landel's gallery of freaks. Whatever it was, it was probably dangerous, like pretty much everything in this damn place. You had to give Logan points for enthusiasm, at least, but those pretty much got deducted for just attacking something without even knowing how strong it was.

And Parker was making moves like he might join in. The kid had to be smarter than that, but with Statesman apparently pussywhipping him, he might just jump in himself.

Statesman moved to circle around behind their opponent. Launching multiple attacks at the same time had shown to be an effective strategy for the group before them, but that last attack that had made them vanish was something to be concerned about.

"Be careful, if it looks like he's going to use that power again head for the door," It didn't matter which door, really.

Making people disappear into thin air? That was more than a little disconcerting, and Peter had to rethink attacking the thing now. It definitely didn't look human now that he was getting a slightly closer look at it.

But it was either fight or retreat, and there was no point in turning back. He didn't know what had happened to those other three (and the possibilities were numbered), but he definitely didn't want the same thing to happen to him. Could they outrun that attack? It was possible, but he didn't want to take anything for granted.

He moved a little closer to Logan and the thing, but still held off on jumping right in. He didn't think attacking it was a good idea, especially since it didn't seem to sustain any damage, but he wasn't about to let Wolverine get trashed either.

The aggressor was attacking again, aiming for a vital point. Well, a point that would be fatal to a human, at least. Without shifting his weight at all, he brought his Fang across his body and stopped the attack. It must have felt like hitting a brick wall, because he didn't show the slightest give as the knife screeched across his Fang again. Apparently, the laws of physics just didn't apply to him when blocking attacks.

Two more targets had entered his range area. Ignoring the fact that he had Logan's knife on his Fang, his eye swiveled over to Peter, locking on the young man like a predator assessing how long it would take to break a particularly tasty-looking bit of prey. He let another warning wheeze go. Perhaps that would encourage the two targets enough.

Otherwise he'd have to engage the more dangerous part of his program.

His attack blocked without effort, the beast within Logan was taken aback, momentarily startled as a wolf might be towards prey that actively fought back. He was undeterred, however, and the ease with which Tri-edge had blocked a strike with such force to it only served to enrage Logan further. "Yer good, kid," he growled. "But I'm tha best" With that final word, he was already swinging again, using his left hand in an attempt to grab his opponent's weapon arm and aiming another strike with the knife, this time at his assailant's heart. He had not noticed the other's attention swiveling towards his comrade, nor did he care. After all he'd heard tonight, he was close to the edge, and drawing blood was the only thing on his mind.

While it seemed like the antagonist was fine with keeping things one-on-one, it had at least noticed Peter, which immediately put him on the defensive. Statesman seemed ready to jump in at a moment's notice, though Eddie was keeping his distance -- not that he was surprised. He could always call him on being a coward lately, but Brock would probably counter with some sort of remark about how he didn't need to be Mr. Hero.

Peter wasn't one to think of himself as one (especially not with a capital H), but he certainly wasn't a "bad guy" either. Which meant that it was becoming harder and harder to stand idly by when Logan was fighting against someone who was way out of his league. While his roommate seemed confident enough, Peter knew this could get ugly very quickly.

He drew closer, preparing to shoot some web. As he circled around and found an opening, he shot some from his wrist, aiming for the thing's ankle. Hopefully it would be strong enough to take hold and he could trip him up.

[Roger that! I think I'm going to call T'Edgy defeated for tonight, since I have no stable internet right now--don't want to hold up threads and such. ^^]

Things were getting more complicated. There were so many aggressors... so little time left. So many patients had made it past him. His program restraint was slowly falling apart. If he wasn't careful, it could result in the number one undesired outcome: patient death.

He was calculating whether or not Peter and Brock should be dealt with when Logan's knife drove straight down into his chest. His display cracked and shorted, spreading to his arms and legs. Peter's web hit as well, sticking him to the floor, but not knocking him over. He was cornered now, and if he didn't do something about it within the next few seconds, Logan would do far more damage to his program. The others might as well, seeing his weakness. Patients were equated with wolves in his program: pack animals that would leap on weakened adversary without any hesitation.

His hand slammed into Logan's face, palm open, and he threw the full-grown man back fifteen feet. His attack had to be faster, more streamlined. These patient-aggressors had seen it once before, and would know to run and avoid it. No one could get by him again.

Quickly, he raised his broken arm, the bracelet fading into view almost twice as fast as before. Apparently he only got more and more dangerous as time went on. Eye fixated on the group he screamed an unintelligible cry. The sharp, colored beams of data shot out once again, striking multiple parts of the room and the four patients present.

He dropped down to the ground, a hand on his chest. That was the last time he could do that. He was weakened, and his program damaged. With another wheeze and a dying cry, he was engulfed in blue flames. Once those had cleared, a blue ball of flame remained. It fell down into the floor and was gone.

[Cool with me! Gonna take artistic license with where Loges goes, not far, just to the caf. Hope that's cool!]

A wicked smile split Logan's face almost in two as he felt the blade sink in. That'll teach ya ta mess wit'... the thought was cut off by a direct strike to his face. How could he have been so foolish?!? Ordinarily, he would have blocked that and ignored it as if it had never happened. He was getting slow, old. He didn't even register it until he was halfway across the room, shaking his head to clear it. That was it. Now this...guy...would know the full fury of the Wolverine.

At least, that was his intention. Before Logan could even move again, a bright beam shot out and struck him square in the chest. Everything went black but for a second, and then be simply disappeared.

[Sent off to here] (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/311822.html)

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Nightshift 30: Sun Room

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