You build some, you break some.

[Bobby Drake]

(( Medbay, 2007 ))
Bobby is trying hard to remind himself of the positives of the last 24+ hours, but ultimately he can only come up with two.

The first is, he’s not dead. Which, to be fair, is a biggie… if he’d taken the kind of punishment Primer’s team had dished out while in flesh-form, he’d be a smear on the asphalt.

The second is, he’s not tired. He’s been awake for almost two days now, ever since the Brotherhood attacked him, and still doesn’t feel even remotely tired. Hank will be interested in that information, he figures… they kept intending to do a sleep-deprivation study to test the limits of his ice-form, but there were always other priorities.

Of course, that second one is a mixed blessing. On the one hand, after sitting alone in the medbay for longer than he can actually remember, sleeping would actually be a welcome anodyne to boredom. On the other hand, he’s not at all sure his ice-armor would hold if he slept… and that means he might wake up to find he’d lost several limbs, or maybe not wake up at all.

It still seems absurd that this repair job should be so much harder than reconstructing his knee had been, but he’s developed a theory to explain it. During the prison break he’d rebuilt his knee by feel, and his leg had reattached without any hassle. At least, that’s what he’d thought had happened… but he hadn’t had time to actually look at his knee. Maybe he’d overestimated the damage, maybe his leg hadn’t actually fully detached… maybe there was still some thread of original ice connecting it that he could build around. Whereas this time he really is broken in two – or fourteen -- and that’s different?

Maybe.

Or maybe he’s just taken too much damage to heal all at once.

Or ever.

OK, enough self-pity, Drake. You sure as hell won’t fix it if you keep moping about it.

The problem is, he knows exactly how to test his little theory, and he’s scared to death of doing so. It’s easy enough: stop trying to re-attach limbs that simply aren’t a part of his body anymore, and concentrate on rebuilding them instead… just like he’d rebuilt his ankle and knee. In other words: step 1: throw away one of his own limbs; step 2: regrow it out of sheer force of will.

It’s step 1 he’s stuck on, and has been for several hours now. Every time he almost screws his courage up to the unsticking-point, he manages to come up with some other preliminary test, something else to look up, some other line of reasoning to chase down, some excuse not to do it.

OK, that’s enough of that. You’re a fucking X-Man again, right? You’re not supposed to be scared of this sort of thing. Scott wouldn’t be, right? Of course, nobody had ever made Scott blow off his own left arm. Look at it this way, Drake – would you rather lose an arm, or stay fractured for the rest of your life? Except on further thought, he decides not to look at it that way.

When the intruder alarm goes off, he’s relieved. Sure, he’s aware that he’s not much good in a fight in his current shape, and that nobody expects him to respond to the alarm, and that really he’s just doing it to distract himself. But that doesn’t stop him from letting himself be distracted by it.

It takes him a fairly long time to make it to where the fighting is, and he doesn’t really have a chance to take in the situation before the room is filled with some kind of disorienting energy effect and, suddenly, replaced by something else altogether.

(( Institute Ruins, 2027 ))
What in the hell? He’s surrounded by the ruins of a building, that much is clear. And it’s an OLD ruin, he can tell that by how even its temperature is. Which he’s been teleported away from the Institute. Without a phone. To who-knows-where.

In other words, he is royally fucked.

Fortunately, he realizes, he isn’t the only one. Spotting a familiar heat-signature some distance away, he starts to slowly walk towards it, using his ice-armor as a makeshift splint to keep his legs in one piece. "What the hell was that?"

(( Not intended for anyone in particular... feel free to weigh in here if you wanna. ))

[Laurie Collins]

It's been an hour at least (she can't be sure, her cellphone has stopped working) since Laurie had leaped to the side to avoid a bone-projectile, knocking against her mother and Illyana, and come up hard against a crumbled stone wall somewhere far away from where her feet had left the ground. She raises a hand to her shoulder now as she remembers the impact, prodding absently at the forming bruise the way everyone knows they shouldn't but always does anyway. She's been wandering around the ruins where she landed since then, at first too scared to yell for someone, then too scared not to, until she'd given up even trying to work out what had happened and settled into a state of inarticulate worry for everyone, especially her mother and Matthew who'd burst into the room a step behind her when they'd reached the source of the alarm. She's so busy with worrying and fear that she doesn't even notice Bob coming up behind her until he speaks-

"What the hell was that?"

"Bob?!" she yelps, whirling around and staring at him with almost disbelieving relief. "Are you okay? Where's..." she looks around as if hoping Bob's arrival will have opened the floodgates so to speak and the others will come strolling into view at any moment. "Have you seen anyone else? My mom? Matthew? They were right behind me but I've been here for about an hour and you're the first person I've seen." she doesn't seem to realize that in her frantic inquiries she's completely neglected to answer his question or probably make all that much sense.

[Bobby Drake]

> " Bob? Are you okay? Where's... have you seen anyone else? My mom? Matthew? They were right behind me but I've been here for about an hour and you're the first person I've seen."

Bobby is about to shake his head, then thinks better of it. "I’m, I dunno, the same. Haven’t fallen apart yet, that’s something. And no, didn’t see anybody – all I know is the alarm went off and I went in to check out the situation and the next thing I know I’m here. Like, a few minutes ago… you mean I’ve been out of it for an hour?"

Well, if nothing else, that answers his question about what happens if he’s asleep/unconscious in this form… it’s funny, though, he doesn’t remember being unconscious at all.

And that really isn’t the most important thing going on right now.

"So, do you have any idea where we are? This obviously isn’t the Institute; we must have gotten teleported or something." He tries to maintain a tone of relative calmness, hoping to help Laurie get over her own anxiety.

[Primer]

" Bob? Are you okay? Where's... have you seen anyone else? My mom? Matthew? They were right behind me but I've been here for about an hour and you're the first person I've seen."
"I’m, I dunno, the same. Haven’t fallen apart yet, that’s something. And no, didn’t see anybody – all I know is the alarm went off and I went in to check out the situation and the next thing I know I’m here. Like, a few minutes ago… you mean I’ve been out of it for an hour?"

The voices coax him back from unconsciousness and Primer sits up slowly, resisting the urge to groan out loud as he presses tentatively at a cut that runs the length of one forearm. What the hell? He straightens with alacrity as his surroundings make an impact on him for the first time and his mind skitters quickly back over the last few moments he can remember- his hand closing around Gail's wrist, being forced back by someone (the telekinetic?), his daughter bursting through the door followed by what seemed like half the population of the Institute, that little blonde teleporter grabbing Gail at the same time as Vanisher... and that's all. But then where am I? Why here? Why with Drake and the girl? His former patient speaks again and he raises himself a bit, testing his limbs for injury as he listens,

"So, do you have any idea where we are? This obviously isn’t the Institute; we must have gotten teleported or something."

He hesitates for a moment, then rises to his feet. Might as well reveal myself. Laurie- ridiculous name, should have expected that from Gail- can't hurt me and I can keep Drake twisting easily enough. Besides with his thermal perception he'll sense me soon if he hasn't already...

"That does seem to be the most likely scenario." he says in a carrying voice, stepping around the pile of debris that had concealed him. He can't hide his smirk, half-derisive, half-satisfied, when Laurie gives a hitched gasp that's halfway to a scream at his appearance and starts backing away. It's hard really to know who to be more dismissive of, this pale shadow of half his DNA or the on again off again X-man who'd sniveled out his deepest fears and most well hidden sex fetishes for months. He settles for not really looking at either of them, the lack of focus giving a bored cast to his facial features that he's pleased with. "We did have two teleporters in the room after all, but this is definitely not where Vanisher was supposed to send us...does your little blonde often misplace her passengers?" he asks calmly. There's time enough for threatening or manipulating the two teenagers later if that's what the situation requires- for now information is what's important.

[Tempero]

Daniel gazes over the ruins, seeing only the inside of his own thoughts, blind to the run-down walls and the remnants of the once so great building, thankful that there are no mutants here who would trigger off his mutation sense. It went permanently active a long time ago, perhaps ten, fifteen years, and now every day is a kaleidoscopic trip through the world. He has classified a large number of the colors, and there are now only few the effects of which he could not determine.

Such a long time ago. Such a different life. It is as if I were in a different kind of reality. How could the world bring itself to this? he wonders idly, now focusing on the black leather glove covering his right clenched right hand, the other one resting inside the black trench coat's pocket. He feels no remorse, no shame for the actions he did over the years, yet there is still a nostalgia, a wish for the "good old days", when he was just a careless youth obsessed with making friends, his greatest problems being getting into a very small space and passing US History with a good enough grade.

And where is he now? A thirty-eight year old man with long white hair and an incomplete college education, manipulating other mutants to his own purposes. His telepathy has increased considerably towards the offensive side- he needs only two seconds within someone's mind to lock onto their mutation, and then the psychic contact is absolutely useless. Once he has linked himself to the mutation, it is his to do with as he pleases. Oh, there are still troublesome mutants who offer resistance, and telepaths remain a major headache, but with them he either works around the blocks in showing his booming, friendly, charming personality, a mask which he kept and which has proven rather useful, or simply avoids any contact.

And then he is ripped away from his thoughts as three mutations suddenly appear on the grounds, two yellow and one medium blue. What?! Two pheromone factories, and an ice mutation? But only Drake has cryokinesis, as far as I remember... he turns his head slowly, but manages to barely get a glimpse of a man before he disappears behind some debris.

Daniel walks idly towards them, not feeling in the least bit threatened. Perhaps it is that his arrogance has grown exponentially, along with the uses of his power, and perhaps it is something else. He smiles slightly at the thought of what he has been able to do with his powers once he started exploring the offensive side. Storm was very right in her worries about me misusing her power... How negligent of her to have simply left it at a summer's worth of sessions. he remembers of a particular occasion, right after some scenario they ran in the Danger Room, what was it? He had blocked Warren Worthington's mutation then, and caused major pains to the man. To think how sorry he felt afterwards, and now he was on the side of the Brotherhood, a thing Daniel was never quite able to step over, despite what the Brotherhood had morphed into.

His surprise, however, grows even more when he notices some faces that he had not seen for an extremely long time. I thought Primer and Laurie had disappeared? And they are now with Drake? What is wrong with his ice form? he wonders for a few moments, but then shoves the questions away for later.

His black boots crunching over the debris was enough of an announcement in and of itself, so he simply springs into a conversation as soon as he comes within reasonable distance of the three. His radiant green eyes, at the same time exactly as they were such a long time ago, and also devoid of the friendliness, gaze at each of the three periodically. There's something...odd about them...

"The father and daughter coming out of hiding, and then Drake with them at the same spot? My eyes must be deceiving me. Searching for new prisoners, Drake? Or are you on a different type of mission this time?" his deep voice echoes against the few remaining half-walls, and there is a smirk on his face that is not all too friendly.

[Bobby Drake]

> " That does seem to be the most likely scenario. We did have two teleporters in the room after all, but this is definitely not where Vanisher was supposed to send us...does your little blonde often misplace her passengers?"

Bobby recognizes the voice before he even turns around, and the rage that floods his mind is so sudden and overwhelming that he would suspect Laurie or Primer to be responsible for it, if he weren’t impervious to their pheromones in his ice form. "You! Are you responsible for this?"

Which he realizes, even as he says it, is kinda a stupid question… Sean had just gotten finished explaining he didn’t know what happened, and though he may be lying it’s not like he’s going to admit to it just because Bobby asked.

He’s too pissed to care, though. If it weren’t for the precarious state of attachment of most of his limbs he suspects he’d be punching Primer in the face; instead he just barrels on. "You have one hell of a fucking nerve showing your face to me after you and your fucking Brotherhood tried to kill me! You’re lucky I don’t – "

> " The father and daughter coming out of hiding, and then Drake with them at the same spot? My eyes must be deceiving me. Searching for new prisoners, Drake? Or are you on a different type of mission this time? "

Bobby turns, distracted, to face the new arrival. He looks vaguely familiar, but Bobby can’t place him at first… then, after a moment, the age-inappropriate white hair anchors less articulable similarities of voice and facial feature. This guy reminds me of Danny, except like twenty or thirty years older. Combine that with the fact that whoever it is knows Bobby’s name in ice-form, and one conclusion seems more than likely.

“What the hell is this, Take Your Father to the Middle of Nowhere Week for mutants? Let me guess – you must be Mr. Blackburn Sr., right? Are you responsible for our popping up here, wherever “here” is?"

[Laurie Collins]

[[soyeah this turned out to be a Primer post but...logging out is work!]]

Primer is looking rather unimpressed with Bob's anger, brushing dirt off his clothes and hands as the teenager yells at him and altogether adopting the attitude of a parent patiently waiting for their child's tantrum to be over. Laurie, meanwhile, has rallied herself from her initial fear and advances back towards the pair, raising her voice almost in unison with Bob's- "Where's my mom?" she demands, her hands unconsciously, and rather comically to Primer at least, clenching into fists as she strides towards him.

Just as he's wondering if she's actually going to try hitting him a third voice breaks across the din- "The father and daughter coming out of hiding, and then Drake with them at the same spot? My eyes must be deceiving me. Searching for new prisoners, Drake? Or are you on a different type of mission this time?"
“What the hell is this, Take Your Father to the Middle of Nowhere Week for mutants? Let me guess – you must be Mr. Blackburn Sr., right? Are you responsible for our popping up here, wherever “here” is?"
There's not much to add to that and so Primer stays silent, casually feeling in his pocket for the gun he hopes made the transit to wherever-the-hell-this-is with him.

[Rahne Sinclair]

(( SHIELD HQ, approximately the same time as Warren received his alarm ))

Ancher is interrupted from reading a report on the California Brotherhood’s latest atrocity by an emergency request to authorize Sentinel activation… mutant activity detected in Westchester, NY, near the ruins of the Xavier Institute.

Every once in a while he considers razing those ruins to dust and building a new SHIELD facility on the site. There’d be little practical purpose to it – it’s not like they need another facility in upstate New York, especially when their budget is already strained by keeping the Camps defended and the Brotherhood on the defensive – but it would wipe away a mark of dishonor Ancher has carried with him ever since those two freaks in Paris almost destroyed his career.

But he never has, and for a very good reason… he knows how important that site is to the mutant underground. Sure, they have all kinds of cloaks and tricks, but sooner or later Ancher knew they’d trip up… and apparently that day has come.

He smiles a predatory smile as he enters the authorization code for collection with prejudice.

(( Institute Ruins, now ))

It takes Rahne a moment to recover from the steel giant’s blow, but only a moment. At least, she’s fairly sure of that… she was dazed and disoriented, but not unconscious. So when her surroundings resolve themselves into an unfamiliar location with hardly any fresh scents at all, she decides fairly quickly that Vanisher must have pulled them out of the fight.

A moment later she hears the sounds of argument… Primer, and the girl and the ice-boy from the other night, and someone new. The ice-boy is screaming angrily but apparently not about to start a fight, so she slides into a warm shadow and listens… not so much to their argument, which doesn’t really interest her, but to her new surroundings.

Which is why, when the steel humanoid figures arc like missiles through the air, Rahne hears them before anyone else does and gives up her stealthy observer’s post to warn Primer.

"Take care! We’re under attack!"

A few seconds later the Sentinels complete their arcs fire landing jets, and land in the middle of the Institute. “Attention, unregistered mutants. You have been found in violation of the Mutant Registration Act, clause 27/j. Surrender peacefully and you will not be injured. You have fifteen seconds to comply.”

[Laurie Collins]

"Take care! We’re under attack!"

Laurie spins to face the woman's voice, thinking wryly that she's likely to get whiplash if many more surprises insist on popping up behind her and then realizing with a sobering jolt that whiplash is probably one of the best possible outcomes from this whole mess. She barely has time to think that, to register the appearance of the vaguely familiar red haired woman before there's the glint of steel and the smell of fuel and she's hunching herself down as small as she can without moving in the face of these unfamiliar and frankly terrifying metal men.

“Attention, unregistered mutants. You have been found in violation of the Mutant Registration Act, clause 27/j. Surrender peacefully and you will not be injured. You have fifteen seconds to comply.”

What? There's no mutant registration act. Is there? The seconds are actually ticking off loudly as if there's some sort of timer nestled in one of the robots and Laurie looks around quickly for Bob- catching a glimpse of Primer raising his eyebrows and lifting his hands into the air, flat palmed, with an attitude of experimental caution. Bob's only a few paces or so behind her and, as the seconds tick back to ten, she starts to shuffle back towards him, lips already parting to ask a whispered question, when the metallic voice rings out again-

"Unauthorized movement. Eliminate." and she ducks down behind the nearest pile of rubble reflexively, just in time to avoid by inches a blast of something she doesn't see but hears the gunfire-blast sound of. We're dead, she thinks dully, pheromones won't work on anything robotic and Bob'll fall apart if he gets hit again...we're going to get killed and we won't even know where we are...

[Tempero]

>
“What the hell is this, Take Your Father to the Middle of Nowhere Week for mutants? Let me guess – you must be Mr. Blackburn Sr., right? Are you responsible for our popping up here, wherever “here” is?"

What the bloody hell?! he thinks, startled slightly by the reaction. Drake does not say such things, not since the world went exploring new areas of the word "shit". He sighs, shaking his head idly as the other two react, or do not, in their own ways. "Drake, I do not have time for your fooling around, you know full well that my father has died a long time ago. Now pull yourself together, literally, and speak to me normally, not like some half-cracked wine glass." he snaps, but then his attention shifts as another color appears in front of his eyes.

A shapeshifter? But how come there are so few colors? Wait...that is Rhane, isn't it? He remembers shortly as he sees barely two or three colors intertwine for her mutation's signature, instead of the usual kaleidoscopic plethora that is so typical for shapeshifters. He remembers Rhane because he had seen her work on several occasions, and has had the pleasure, or lack thereof, of seeing her in person on a couple of occasions. "Rhane? When did you manage to escape? And how the hell did all of you get...shit." he cuts himself off as he hears Rhane's shout, and then soon after the oh so familiar thumping, as well as a warning so idiotic it would make him laugh if it did not mean the very close danger to his own life.

"Drake, don't resist if you want to live." he says, sending a telepathic spike to his mind, hoping that he will meet no opposition, already knowing by heart where the mutation is. Despite what might the general belief on why he is doing this be later, it is merely to protect his own life- no remorse or sympathy would be caused if the iceman would die, but he is needed, so he cannot.

I hate paradoxes... he thinks as he turns around, tugging with his mind from the source before he even checks whether it attached, and, hoping as hell that it did, pulling his both hands out, and shoving the ice out, intentions to create a thick wall that not only divides them away from the sentinel, but also goes around the robots from hell.

And to think what I could do with Bertrand's mutation...what he himself could do with it against these machines... he thinks reluctantly, remembering the scene that Christopher had made a long time ago, leaving the institute and retracting to his own little world of computers, despite what even the students asked of him merely on the basis of him being such a good teacher.

Times long gone, and this one here is nowhere near from joining them. Do not wander...

[Bobby Drake]

Mutant registration act? Bobby doesn't have any idea what to make of that, but it certainly clears up the question of whether the robots are friendly... even more so when one of them takes a shot at Laurie. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! I have to --

But whatever it is he was going to do is interrupted by a mental touch, at once extremely familiar and very very different, and he stares wide-eyed as the elder Blackburn (or whoever he is... the guy's response had been less than informative) uses Bobby's powers to wrap the Sentinels in an ice-wall, just as fast and slick and easy as he could have done it himself.

Which doesn't make sense, he realizes... sure, he's been working with Danny on using cryokinesis more skillfully, but he's nowhere near that level. Not to mention that this isn't Danny in the first place. Does he have some kind of psychic link to an older relative he's never mentioned, or something? Could be... Danny never has been the most forthcoming kid at the Institute...

It doesn't matter now, though. Whoever he is and however he developed his skills, Blackburn Senior over there is doing a kickass job of protecting their little tribe from those robots. On the other hand, he's also surprisingly friendly with that disturbingly familiar lupine figure appearing out of the shadows. Which means he's probably a Brotherhood member himself, which means the robots might be on the side of the angels after all, even if they are a little trigger-happy, and Bobby no longer knows who to fight.

"Brotherhood shuttle, express to 'anywhere but here', all ABOOOOARD!"

The new arrival confirms at least one of his suspicions, and Bobby slaps up a wall of his own as the teleporter reaches for Laurie. Meanwhile, the robots start pouring some kind of gas through the cracks they've created in Blackburn's icewall, and the werewolf gets caught in one of the clouds of it. Who the hell is fighting who here? The teleporter snarls at him: "Since when do you do field missions, Drake? Fine, your tin soldiers can have the girls, I'll" he disappears and reappears near Primer and Blackburn "settle for what I can get. Let's go, fella!"

[Ororo Munroe]

Ororo hits the ground momentarily to change direction, and launches off again into a leap that’s more flight than jump. She throws her body into a spin to avoid a laser shot, gritting her teeth as she does so.

The robot had found her less than a minute ago, but she was already fighting for her life to get away. Its chase-programming was sophisticated, and it moved quickly, so it was hard to hit with a lightning bolt.

Impossible, for the tenth time. She knew something like this was in the early stages of development, based on her spy sources within SHIELD. However, the powers-that-be were still in the brainstorming stage. They were supposedly meant as automated guards for high-risk mutants at SHIELD outposts. And none of this explained why it was doing its best to vaporize her, and where on Gaia she actually was!

A missile launches out of its palm, and Storm twists up a small cyclone to send it careening off to the right, where it explodes harmlessly. She hits the ground and pushes off in another direction, sailing over a copse of trees…

…and landing directly in the middle of a brawl. More of the armored bots were surrounding her, and… Bobby? Laurie? The last thing she remembered before waking up, disoriented, was working on their finances with Jake in the tv room. She’d woken up in a field, with no idea how she’d arrived, exactly once before in her life, and she hadn’t been thrilled to repeat the experience. After poking around the lakeside ruins for a few minutes, a bright light had been focused on her, which is when she’d met her robotic buddy.

Storm throws a bolt of lightning, which hits a Sentinel and immobilizes it briefly, doing less damage than it should. Her eyes widen. How…? “Bobby, look out!” She plants her feet and tosses another bolt, which hits the robot again. It stops trying to break through Bobby’s wall, and begins to advance on her. A light shines into her eyes, temporarily blinding her.

"Mutant ZX2301, Ororo Munroe. Known Terrorist. Last Known Location: London. Immediately cease resistance and comply with orders. This unit is authorized to terminate based on subject's previous encounters with the Sentinel-class."

Previous encounters? London? Ororo isn't sure what it's talking about, but she leaps over its head, landing on the far side of Bobby's ice wall. She concentrates with her powers, chilling the air around the advancing enemies.