Dr. Henry McCoy

Part of the Avengers Assemble RP blog

15 notes

Does This Mean War? || Kitty, Jean, (Scott), and Hank

jeannie-grey:

shadowsthroughthewall:

Her heart was racing as she cautiously stepped onto Scott’s raised palms, her body tense as she waited for him to hoist her into the air. Kitty knew well that he was capable of launching her safely, but she still felt fight-or-flight responses surging through her system.

"Ready…" She heard his voice behind her, as she straightened her back and bent her knees, "Now!"

She pounced like a cat at the instant he raised his arms, phasing as she soared towards the giant machine. She passed through its thcik body and heard the sound of sparks and thousands of shorting circuits. She had hit her target, the central computer of the Trask technology. She fell to the ground on the other side, landing gracefully, but not without some pain from the impact. She rolled onto her back and tried to regain her balance as she stood up slowly, just in time to see the Sentinel topple forward with a crash.

 She ran around the giant robot to find her friend, but at first he was nowhere to be seen. Then, with a gasp, she saw him; stuck beneath an arm of the Sentinel. She fell to her knees in front of him, and immediately checked his pulse. It was there but almost too faint to notice. His skin was pale, and he was bleeding in several places. She grabbed the robot’s arm and heaved with all her strength to move it. Rolling it would crush his bones, she needed to lift it - if only for a second - to fee Scott. But she needed help from a telekinetic.

Like the telekinetic who was now rushing towards them out of what once had been the main entrance to the school. 

jeannie-grey

Jean felt the tug on the bond that she shared with Scott, but Hank’s voice was soothing as he told her to remain calm and breathe. Jean inhaled a deep breath and then set to work trying to slot all of the pieces into place as fast as she could. Some of the larger pieces were heavy and she was forced to concentrate, but Jean still couldn’t shake the feeling that outside, something terrible was about to happen. She knew that she had to work faster, and squeezed her blue friends hands harder as he projected the images Jean needed to create the machine that would take care of the sentinels.

There was a crash outside, a blast and the room shook as the contraption floated gently down into Hank’s hands. She had to get out there, she had to help Scott and Kitty. Looking up at Hank with a weak, watery smile, she nodded. Their mnds still linked, she wished him well and jumped to her feet. At a sprint she was out the door and moving through the levels of the school, shifting debris as she went, clearing a path for Hank. She reached out to Scott, but there was no reply. Jean’s heart caught in her throat and her feet moved faster.

"Come on, Hank. Come on," she cried.

What Jean saw when the light finally breeched the walls and she was on the grass in front of the place where the enterance to the school used to be made her gasp. She sobbed, her feet wouldn’t move, her body shook as Scott remained pinned under the heavy arm of the gigantic robot. No. No. No. No. She raised her hands and gave Kitty enough room to get Scott to safety before her anger got the better of her. Sparks became flames, flames that soon engulfed the sentinel in a fit of rage and heartbreak. He’d just come back to her. He couldn’t be gone now.

"Scott."

Jean moved suddenly, pushing Kitty out of the way as she cradled his broken body.

"Wake up, Scott. Get up. Don’t do this to me now. I love you."

Beast was right on Jean’s heels as she dashed from the room. He gripped his brand new invention with one foot, while using his other three appendages to rapidly convey himself towards the epicenter of the action. Jean appeared panicked and gave off a psychic aura of fear as she sprinted away. If she was concerned, there was a reason to be worried. Hank turned into a blur of blue fur as he swung and bounced off of walls and ceilings.

Landing deftly on the lawn, the scientist stared shocked at the scene. He observed the situation as expediently as possible. Students and teachers alike fought the gigantic murderous robots. Portions of the school had been destroyed. Then he saw what had made Jean so distressed. Scott was lying bloodied beneath a downed Sentinel. A flash of fury mixed with love came over his best friend’s face. “Jean!” he cried out, but he knew there was nothing he could do to stop her. They had hurt the man she loved and no force could put a stop to her rage now. A few robots burst into flame, reducing them to molten slag. As always, her power was frightening and impressive.

Another Sentinel lumbered their way, powering up its weapons as it went. Hank aimed the electromagnetic pulse rifle and fired, shutting down all the genocidal android’s operations. Its massive form collapsed, sending clods of dirt and grass flying everywhere. “Kitty, make use of this! I must attend to Scott,” shouted McCoy above the din of the battle and tossed the EMP rifle to the headmistress. He rushed over to where two of his oldest friends were. Checking Cyclops’ pulse, the physician found her was still alive, but clearly in bad shape. “Jean, I will administer what care I can to Scott. I apologize, but presently you must return to the conflict,” he urged her. Right then, the best thing she could do was to help Kitty and allow Hank to do his job.

Filed under shadowsthroughthewall jeanniegrey does this mean war

9 notes

An Appointment with the Doctor. {Sorta?} (Cassie and Hank)

changeyourstature:


The blonde jerked her head in a nod as she shed her jacket, draping it on the counter behind her and rolled up her sleeve, so that he could take the blood sample.

Her lips lifted in a smile. “Well I just like to think that if we can help people we don’t know by using our powers then why not the people who annoy us day and night to drag the remote from under the couch.” She shrugged.

Her gaze fell to the ground, as if her brain suddenly found the floor very interesting. “My mother has a lot of issues.” Her voice was low, eyes still on the ground. “And my decision to be like my dad sits very well with her.” She rolled her eyes as she thought of all the arguments, tantrums and tears that always resulted in her storming out of the room leaving her mother and stepfather with that look of disappointing in their eyes.

"So can I expect a table covered with a white sheet hiding frankenstein or jars of human parts set on a shelf like pickles?” She hoped back onto her stool. “It would be rather cool if you had a jar of human eyes that blinked though, don’t you think?” She should really stop watching all the weird horror stories about the classical supernatural beings but she couldn’t help it. She loved all the original monsters that were created. 

savagescholar

Henry smiled back at her. “Certainly you exposit a valid point of view.” It was a very admirable philosophy to live by. Her maturity of thought at such a young age was not surprising. The mutant genius had learned not to underestimate the minds and wills of those younger than him, especially those in the superhuman community. “Something tells me you once again refer to your fellow Young Avengers,” he said with a chuckle.

"Ah, I detect significant amounts of sarcasm." It pained Hank that Stature’s relationship with her mother was so strained. At the very least, she seemed to have a good peer group from which she could receive support, he thought to himself. With a quiet sigh, the physician went back to work.

"Oh indeed, every bit of that and more. I fit the mold and live up to every cliche there is for a mad scientist to fulfill," he quipped back at her. It was good to banter. Hank found that as he got older, he was doing it less and less. In the old days, when he had just started in the superhero game, he would do it almost constantly. And at the same time the mention of a mad scientist reminded him of just how close he really was to that twisted fate. In an alternate universe there had been a Hank McCoy who had abused the knowledge he possessed and become a Dark Beast. This Hank put the thought out on his mind. He needed to focus on the task at hand.

The doctor located a vein and swabbed Cassie’s arm with disinfectant before issuing her a warning. “All right, I am commencing the blood draw.” He talked more as he did so, in an attempt to distract the young woman from the process. “Please, help me to understand how your powers function. How do you affect your size? Is it mental?”

Filed under changeyourstature an appointment with the doctor

19 notes

The night is for hunting. | Silverclaw, Beast, Tigra, Scarlet Witch, & Wolverine

la-garra-argentado:

lesserthanman:

wanda-thescarletwitch:

fiftysixpercentcat:

Fine,” the tigress answered the woman’s question in spite of the fact that she did not have the chance to finish asking it, “We’re both fine.” Tense muscles relaxed once Maria’s hand had been removed from her shoulder, allowing herself to believe that the nerves that had settled in the pit of her stomach since she had heard the S.H.I.E.L.D. announcement were due to her past with the Skrulls (and perhaps how she had left her child with someone that the organisation had told her to now be wary of readily giving her trust to), thankful for the distraction that the arrival of her team mates provided from her own thoughts.

The minimalist nod that had been given in response to her friend’s plan transformed into a suspicious lift of her chin, brows drawing together as she followed the direction of Maria’s gaze and noted how the other’s did not react. Emerald hues widened fractionally as they observed the change that granted the hero her namesake, gaze shifting toward each of the others present in an effort to gauge their reaction. A frown marred her features while Greer herself attempted to determine whether this man - Drax - was friend or foe, the expression only deepening while the words of the sixth addition to their group tried to assuage their wariness. 

Behind her, the shushed sloshing sounds of parting waves as they separated to accommodate the arrival of the ferry endeavoured to draw her attention though failed; the auburn haired female finding herself too preoccupied with the current conversation. Malkin. A fleeting thought contemplated why he would neglect to show up fluttered through her thoughts, wondering if he was aware it would increase his risk of being declared as a Skrull. “If he does decide to join us, I would think that he is capable of finding his own way.” The woman shrugged, attempting nonchalance and to ignore the unease that the notion of allowing a team member to walk around alone and unsupervised evoked in her. “We don’t have a lot of time to waste.”

"Yes of course we can" Wanda replied giving a half smile over to Maria. "I haven’t gotten much better though, so you would probably kick my ass again. It’ll still be a good time though" She didn’t consider the situation to be the kind that warranted smiles. There was an invasion in progress and it required a clear head. That was easier said than done in Wanda’s case, but when put in a situation like the one she was currently up to her neck in, she could focus on the bigger picture and forget about what personal issues plagued her.  She was in a position of leadership when it came to something the team really had not enough information to deal with. To be put quite frankly they were in over their heads. Still, Wanda wanted to scout out any possible Skrull cases and make sure they were dealt with accordingly. 

As more people started to arrive. Wanda began to clock off mentally who was here, who was missing, and who wasn’t on the list she had received when given her orders. The Scarlet Witch wasn’t in the harbor of following order’s blindly, but it  was hard to tell who to trust. She couldn’t afford to wait around any longer and began to answer the questions being asked of her and to give what she believed was the right plan to go about thing’s “I didn’t get confirmations from anyone. I just know whose supposed to be here. ” Wanda admitted before nodding at Maria’s idea. It seemed like the best way to track something unfamiliar. “Smart idea. Were going to all have to work together on this.  I’m not completely sure who is and isn’t a Skrull right now, but were going to figure that out tonight. We need to find some weakness to them.” There was one person still missing, but Wanda knew that they couldn’t wait forever otherwise they would be sitting ducks. “Were just going to have to move without Agent Malkin. I don’t want any of us standing out here like targets. “

Before she could go one any further with her idea’s an unfamiliar faced graced them with their presence. She didn’t think it was a Skrull, but she still had no idea who this person was first hand. She wasn’t sure if anyone else was going to approach him, so Wanda took it upon herself as the team leader. “I don’t think they’re a Skrull. I think they’re part of the team. We had had orders to enlist someone’s help named Drax, but I didn;t think they’d be meeting us here.” Wanda replied before walking away from the group briefly closer to where Drax had entered. Something was confusing her about the situation already and she needed to clear the air. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure” Wanda replied briefly waiting for his reply and confirmation as to who he was. She knew they were supposed to meet someone to help consult them about their targets, but she had to make sure who it was before welcoming them into the group. “We know our strength’s, so how are we going to spot something that doesn’t look like itself? We should probably start moving and come up with a tracking method” Wanda offered. She was talking a lot, but she didn’t want anyone’s concerns to go unheard. 

He felt the faint tremors originating from the other man’s long heavy strides on his cautious approach a while before his stern vociferation knifed the air with a rivalling sharpness to his own claws or the giant’s own sheathed blades. Unlike the shared visualisations of shock which gradually manifested itself on each of his teammate’s faces, Logan barely reacted, simply chalking up his unannounced arrival to be a quirk of their mission. “With you around, big guy, anyone else joinin’ us would be considered overkill.” After giving the humourless retort the Canadian finally turned around to greet Drax personally – only to be quite taken aback by how correct his ‘teasing’ had been. Drax stood at the very least a whole foot taller than compared to his diminutive self. Eventually, he too recoiled in shock at the very sight of the destroyer, unnerved by his immense presence.  

Retreating nearer the terminal, close to where Silverclaw and Tigra dwelt, Maria’s friendly greeting drew his attention and he initially turned to her, dazed, as if he’d just seen a shadow from the past (Drax extruded the same mixture of power and formidability not unlike that aired by a certain gamma irradiated brute he knew.) Swift to recover his senses however, for such abilities were required to be on top form if they were to find success with their mission, Logan closed his eyes and dipped his head, chuffed by the remark. “Wouldn’t want any Skrulls gettin’ their grubby paws on it.” Smiling himself this time, Logan quickly added with a chuckle: “Got that right, darlin’. Sure hate t’ be th’ poor sap goin’ up against us lot.” But how much faith did he actually have in this team of hunters? As ever, he had to remind himself of the ever likely possibility that he could be conversing with genuine allies as well as dancing with their green skinned enemies.

Then another voice was added to the sporadic instances of strained conversation, one which straight away prompted Logan to open his eyes and cast his keen hues over the undulating furry blue pelt of the familiar mutant scientist and fellow X-Men. Having him there, aside Drax, aided in diminishing his earlier wariness of the destroyer to the point where the runt joined the giant’s company. “Good t’ know I’m not th’ only sap that S.H.I.E.L.D. summoned from th’ school.” Tilting his head downwards again, this time by the barest of centimetres, the runt acknowledged Hank’s recount of his recent findings and went to add to his conclusions, along with Greer’s and the others, whilst looking back over his shoulder to share a grim glance with their leader. “I agree with Wanda. It’s past time we got goin’. When does th’ ferry dock?”

The shapeshifter lifted her head, returning to her natural form when the blue-furred man approached, regarding him with a mixture of wonder and suspicion. She knew from the files she’d been given that this was Dr. Hank McCoy, the mutant scientist from Xavier’s Academy, but that was all. She couldn’t help but frown slightly at his strangely-worded admission. Did he always talk like that? Her gaze flickered back to Greer’s, hoping to catch her eye and exchange a pointed glance, but the tigress wasn’t looking. Instead, her attention was captured by Wanda’s reply and she was relieved by the good-naturedness of it, flashing a grin in the mutant’s direction and shrugging gently. “You’re on,” she purred- her attention twitching marginally at the arrival of the ferry like a ghost atop the water with only the gentle trickle of waves to alert them to its presence. She supposed it would be frowned upon for it to blare its horn at this hour, and she tilted her head toward Tigra as she spoke, nodding in agreement. “Greer’s right. We don’t have a lot of time. They could be anywhere by now- S.H.I.E.L.D. made it pretty clear that most of the party survived, and they had to go somewhere.” 

Maria let out a small purl of laughter at Logan’s comment and she bit back a remark about no Skrull wanting that dirty old thing, instead turning and heading towards the terminal as the group began to move. The ferry had been procured for their use especially- it helped, sometimes, being friends with S.H.I.E.L.D.- and they had the entire boat to themselves. The Latina lingered near the rail after they’d boarded, fingers curling around the mist-slick railing, feeling the lurch in her stomach as the ferry leapt forward in the water. She could taste the salt on the night air that plunged its fingers into her hair, tangling the tresses held back by her gleaming silver diadem. Exhaling into the darkness, steeled herself for the task ahead and was thankful for the gentle bumping of the boat against the Staten Island docks, the water that the boat had brought with it slapping hard against the concrete as they all exited the vessel. The crash site had been indicated on the files they’d been sent and they all seemed to move as one unit through the streets until they reached it- a condemned block made to appear the scene of a television satellite that’d dropped from the sky. The shapeshifter snorted gently, amazed at the incredible lies people would believe. 

A gentle nudge was given to the tigress, a soft elbow to her upper arm and Maria nodded toward the opposite edge of the site. “I’ll take that area and we can work our way toward the middle?” she spoke softly, mild concern flickering through her irises before she whirled away from her friend, all energy once more, tugging teasingly on Logan’s sleeve as she passed by. “I do feel sorry for the Skrulls,” she tossed over her shoulder, continuing from the statement he’d uttered back on the other side of the bay. “We’re a formidable team.” She kept a suspicious eye on the blue-furred beast as she crossed the crash site, picking her way through the charred remains of the wreckage, noting that not much actual Skrull technology had been left behind by S.H.I.E.L.D. Beneath the shine of the half-moon, the Latina let her body shimmer silver, morphing into a were-creature, something not quite human and not quite cat. She was hit at once with the stench of alien life and disaster; death and the fear of it still lingered in the air and she wrinkled her nose. “I don’t really know what I expected,” she muttered, looking up, crimson eyes alight.

"It is lovely to see you too, Logan. Wanda. Maria. Greer," Hank spoke, nodding to each of them in turn. The scientist also found comfort in having another mutant there. He and Wolverine did not always see eye-to-eye on all matters, but he was damned good at tracking and there was nowhere else Hank would prefer Logan be. Smiling at the other man, he patted him on the shoulder affectionately.

"Splendid idea," replied Beast. At least Wanda was right to business and had listened to his suggestion. She was correct in that time was of the essence. The more time they spent standing about, the farther and farther away their prey became. "It appears the ferry has arrived. No point in dawdling here any further. Let us be off." Henry followed everyone onto the boat. As it took off on the water, the geneticist came to all the members of their party individually. To each of them, he allowed them to see and smell the sample of Skrull DNA he had brought with him. He thought it best that everybody knew exactly what they were hunting for.

After a time, they arrived at the scene of the crash. Looking around at all the debris, he could not help but wonder if these Skrull survivors were as frightened of the heroes of Earth as they were of the uninvited aliens. Yes, Green Team’s task was to track down the green spacemen, but Hank’s natural curiosity and benevolence had him wondering if as peaceful solution could be found to this issue. Silverclaw was eying him from a distance, the keen, animalistic mutant detected. He made a mental note to talk to her about it later. Perhaps she suspected he himself was a Skrull invader, but as to why, Hank did not have an inkling. For now however, they had work to do. The azure acrobat crouched down amongst the wreckage and examined the pieces. “I believe I can fashion a device that will facilitate our pursuit of Skrull genetics as well as any remnants of their technology. Given the choice, I suppose the former would be preferable.”

Filed under fiftysixpercentcat wanda-thescarletwitch lesserthanman manyvictims la-garra-argentado the night is for hunting

12 notes

Hunter, Hunted || Betsy, Jean & Hank

jeannie-grey:

betsybraddockpsylocke:


"That’s your problem, Jean," Elizabeth declared smugly as though she had just discovered the root cause of the problem, a flaw in the design of someone that all others but her (or so it seemed) viewed as being faultless. "You can’t let go of the past." She watched the unmistakable glistening of tears as they formed along the other telepaths lash line and, terribly, gave the two a sharp, bitter smile that lacked entirely in warmth. "You can talk all you like about visions and values. What you don’t seem to understand is that it’s the present that’s the most important. You can take Charles’ dream and try to project it into the years to come, but you’re missing the point. Without mutants like me who are willing to exterminate the people that continue to threaten our existence, there won’t be any future.” An unimpressed look was given to the pair that stood before her, their arms linked as though affection and bodily contact could get them through even the worst of times. Sometimes it felt like she was speaking to a brick wall.

"I’m not the one who questioned dedication," she pointed out, voice low with ire, growing bored with Jean’s constant desire to announce just how unhelpful she had been to their cause. Their cause. It had been made perfectly clear that she wasn’t wanted as a part of their great and divine plan. “It’s you who demanded that I respect you. You’ve brought this on yourself, and all for what? Some selfish craving to have everyone love you?” Dark eyes shot towards Hank, quiet as he stepped away from the redhead, left once more with the three of them stood alone. His mention of her own past was rewarded with a chilly reception. “That’s insignificant, Henry. I had no choice in the matter and so it was no sacrifice.” She didn’t mention the number of times she’d died, or the reason behind her split with Warren, or even why she was entirely incapable of feeling sorrow. Those were true sacrifices; ones carried out by herself, done to save others — but using them as ammunition in an argument over who had done more for the X-Men was something she was too proud to do. “There is no need to defend me, clearly Jean has made her choice.”

The Brit rose her chin stubbornly, staring squarely at Hank. His questions caused stormy resentment to grow, aware that he misunderstood the need to fight. It wasn’t about winning, it was about causing another enough harm that they’d finally understand what they’d done wrong. “And there it is,” Elizabeth declared in a soft, near sing-song voice. “I know you mean well by suggesting that. Truly, I do. But X-Force? Really? Is it truly that difficult for you to see something in me that isn’t just a weapon that you can send out when you need to get rid of someone?” She took a few slow strides forward until she was but a whisper from the male, a defiant air to her. “I’m not going anywhere, darling. I’m staying right here at the school.” Reaching up, an index finger was hooked into Hank’s neckline, voice lowering into a silky lilt. “If you have an issue with that, then by all means, try and do something about it.”

Flitting away from him, her sights turned back to Jean. “You’re right, there is no I in team. There’s no I in X-Men, either. Or in death, or freedom, or safety, or love. These are different times, Jean Grey. I know you want to see the mutants at this school as students, but a part of them will always also be soldiers. We’re raising them to make sure that they have the skills and abilities to fight in our war, not educating them to ensure they all get well-paid jobs.” Slender fingers were run through purple hair, the gentle sound of leaves rustling in the breeze filling momentary silent before she cut through it once more. “I dislike you because you’ve always seemed like you want to change me or get rid of me. You can’t accept that I’m happy with who I am. And maybe it’s because you’re jealous, maybe you think I’m arrogant or over-confident, but that is your opinion. You want to call the X-Men a family? Then you’ll have to deal with me as I am.”

Without thinking, Jean pulled her elbow back and allowed her balled fist to strike Betsy hard in the jaw. The force of the blow was enough to stun her, but it wouldn’t do damage. Jean didn’t smile, and she wasn’t smug. She wouldn’t laugh, and she felt no reason to give away her true pain. That was locked away tight, as tight as it could possibly be, because she would no longer leave herself exposed to women like Betsy Braddock who thought the world of themselves. The sun didn’t shine out of her ass, no matter how often she told herself it did. Jean brushed her hands on her pants and stepped back out of the firing line, that had been a warning shot. She was silent, she said nothing, but her hands fell long against her sides. Her feet were braced shoulder width apart and she took a deep breath. There was nothing left to say. What could she say to somebody as unreasonable as Betsy? Everything, every single action Jean had ever offered in the course of their work, every last battle, every single ounce of energy she had given, her lives, her love. Betsy had just belittled and undermined every single thing Jean had ever considered sacred, and that meant that there was no other cause of action than to walk away.

"Hank, my dear friend. I love you like a brother, but you are not helping the situation."

Jean gripped the X motif that embellished the sleeve of her uniform and tore the symbol from the fabric. It left a gaping tear that exposed her arm, but Jean simply tossed the badge onto the ground. She’d had a life as the Black Queen once, maybe the Hellfire Club would actually appreciate her talents for what they were. She’d have to work her way to the top, but with her mind tricks and her looks, she knew that was the least of her worries. She turned on her heel, a shield between herself and the enemy, she wouldn’t leave with a knife wedged between her shoulderblades. Taking confident steps, her head was held high as she scaled the terrain to the exit. She knew that Hank would interject, so the sooner she was out of sight, the sooner she could move on with her life. She reached the door and turned around, it wouldn’t do them any good to follow her, and she knew that Betsy would be far too pleased with herself to waste time on a lost cause.

"You just keep up your mantra, Betsy. You keep telling yourself that everything’s alright, and you’re OK. But we both know that you’re not happy with the person you’ve become. Enjoy your stay at the Jean Grey school."

Jean turned to Hank, but she didn’t have to speak to communicate with him. She just gave him a smile that told him everything he needed to know. He didn’t need to seek further confirmation. Her boots crunched as she stepped backwards and gripped the doorframe, her command left the space open for her to retreat, and she did. She knew where she was going, straight to Kitty’s office to hand in her resignation. If Kitty refused to take it, Jean would abandon her post without an explanation. It was probably better that way. She didn’t need to take a lot with her, but the small satin box in her underwear draw was going with her. She would keep the thin band within close to her heart until he returned. His shirt, his pillow, everything that reminded her of him were being packed in her duffle and ready to go. Cassie needed a roommate, that was the first place she would go after she left the Jean Grey School.

"I have lost the both of you in the past," said the mutant hero. "I do not intend to lose either of you again, whether by death or alienation." His words were pointless. Hank gave a shuddering sigh and furrowed his bushy brows in distress. "Betsy- I did not mean to imply…" Beast began to say, but he stopped himself as she jerked him forward by the front of his filthy undershirt. He knew that there was nothing he could say that would change what Psylocke thought. The damage had been done. Still he spoke, during a momentary lull in the conversation. "You are not a weapon. You are my friend, both of you are my friends-"

His statement was interrupted when Jean lunged forward and struck Betsy. The scientist was shocked. Although he had been expecting violence, he had not thought Jean would use her fists to dole it out. Hank was stunned. He felt numb, expect for the wetness on his cheeks. Jean was correct: Hank had simply wished to mend matters, but he only made them worse. “Jean…” he called out ineffectually. Shaking himself out of his stupor, he turned to the other woman and began to examine her for wounds. “Have you sustained any injury?” the physician asked, more out of habitual concern than anything else. It was a stupid question that he did not anticipate Braddock would dignify with an answer.

Without another word, the tall blue man fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face once again. His heart hurt. Not physically, obviously, but emotionally. There was a lot that needed to be made right with both of them. At that moment, there was nothing he could do. It made Hank feel helpless. Useless. And that was the worst feeling in the world for someone as intelligent and capable as he was. Henry McCoy had hurt people he loved and there was no way to change that. All he wanted was to keep Jean and Betsy from each others’ throats and for everyone to be happy, but he suspected that he had only succeeded and driving both of them away from him.

Filed under betsybraddockpsylocke jeanniegrey hunter hunted

6 notes

shadowsthroughthewall:

"Mostly fixing up the school from all the damages we’ve had during the school year. Lockheed is a big help. I’ve also been marathoning Game of Thrones."

image

"You?"

"Ah yes. A necessary evil I am afraid. It is fortunate that you have such a wonderful support system and such a splendid television program."


"I have been occupied by my research in the city."

(Source: savagescholar)

Filed under shadowsthroughthewall gifchat

19 notes

The night is for hunting. | Silverclaw, Tigra, Scarlet Witch, Wolverine, Drax, & Beast

la-garra-argentado:

manyvictims:

lesserthanman:

wanda-thescarletwitch:

fiftysixpercentcat:

A clawed nail had toyed with the page of the photo album kept on the mahogany bedside table, emerald hues glanced across countless pictures of familiar faces, affording a stray thought to how she could identify them if they had in fact been replaced by imposters. A ding from the phone nestled in crisp bed sheets signified a new email, breaking the silence that had the room had been cocooned in and disturbing the child resting on her shoulder who she rocked back to sleep. He is half Skrull, the voice in her mind spoke, the reminder turning her mouth into a frown. Short, soft taps, on the screen allowed her to check the message, committing the location to memory just before Jarvis entered the room after knocking; asking if she required his services to watch over baby William. After giving him a once over, she nodded somewhat reluctantly as a response - knowing she couldn’t bring the child with her as she lay him down on her bed - standing, she kept her gaze on the male until she left the room.

A car had been called to take her to the desired destination, finding that she would prefer that over walking, pulling up several metres away from the location for no other reason than convenience as swift movements allowed her to exchanged the heated interior of the vehicle for the night air. The curt nod given in thanks a response to both the lift she had been afforded with as well as the decency of the driver to point her in the right direction, waiting until he’d driven away before turning and squinting at the darkness; the lights that guided her in her path flickered sporadically as though they themselves were uncertain of the steps she took. Unintentionally, her foot caught on a stray rock as she kicked it from her path, glancing up at the reply the action had received. A hesitancy laced her next action, holding her hands up in a gesture synonymous with surrender before a smile uplifted the edge of her mouth once she’d noted Maria’s fear transform to relief.

"I agree," Greer said, glancing around as though hoping that by familiarising herself with the ominous atmosphere that she would somehow become immune to it, arrested momentarily in her movements while her attention caught by the mosaic of stars that sparkled proudly overhead; a picture painted by something far beyond her own comprehension. A sigh was expelled from partially parted lips, blowing the cool breath from her like an admittance that her current company more important than star-gazing; their current predicament even more so. "I’m guessing everyone else is making their own way here?" The question used to fill the silence more than anything else, digits curling in against the pads on her hand before sliding them into the pockets of the long coat she wore over her bikini. 

There was a strange stillness in the air and Wanda knew that mean’t something bad was trying to hard to go unnoticed. She needed to meet with the team to see what was going to be their next plan of action. The Skrull invasion was a serious problem and one Wanda needed to help prevent from going any further. She wasn’t some villain hell-bent on destruction. Wanda never truly was. It was just a case of making a bad decision in the past. If anything her past only made her want to be a better hero. 

To be honest Wanda had hoped that the team was okay. If someone was missing or was acting peculiar it was going to send red flags. She didn’t want thing’s to fall apart before they had even started. This was something she was in many ways in charge of and she had this need not to fail. Failure made the mutant nervous and when the stakes were so high there didn’t need to be any other reason why there was tension in the air. 

Wanda made her way to the terminal, making mental notes of everything as she passed by. It was hard to gauge what was considered weird behavior. First of all, everyone had a habit of acting strange. Big cities had a tendency to be hotbeds of eccentric behavior and second there was nothing to go off of. She didn’t have any clear signs that told the group what the Skrull tells were. It wasn’t like a poker game. It was a mission. Wanda entered the terminal and looked around unsure if she was early, late, or just on time. There was a part of her though that already assumed she was late. She may have been taking the lead on this, but she had never considered herself leadership material before. 

When Wanda caught sight of the other two, a soft smile fell on her face. At least part of the group was there already. They can come up with a plan of action as to what to do next as more of the team arrived. “Hi,” Wanda replied walking closer to the pair. ” I thought I would be late. ” Wanda added more to herself than to the other girls. She had overheard something about the place being creepy at night and offered some words in response to that feeling. ” There are worse thing’s out there than an empty terminal, so I try to stay positive about our position. I think we need to figure out exactly what were going to do next.  We could maybe discuss thing’s while the other’s arrive. I’m sure they aren’t going to be too long”

Word had come down the wire concerning recent events: Skrulls had seeded the wider populace with nefarious doppelgangers, having successfully infiltrated all fractions and communities. Logan’s hands curled into tense fists at the news, a fraction of a memory looping in his head from the last time he had dealings with the grill-chinned aliens. Clamping his jaws together in an attempt to keep a tight leash on his unsavoury thoughts, he did however adhere to the request put forward by the same communique to assemble with the others at ground zero.

Passing on the offer to equip his costume, Logan set off on his way wearing civilian gear, doing his best to act discreet. His keen sniffer usually had little trouble when it came to blowing the cover of those who could trade their physical appearance with the same ease as changing outfits, but the alien Skrulls were a completely different matter.  The runt disliked the thought of an enemy hiding in plain sight, especially one whose numbers were presently unknown. For all anyone knew, in this city alone there could be five Skrulls or five thousand Skrulls in the guise of shopkeepers, bystanders, even police. He hoped that it would be a simple matter of merely picking up a trail that would guide them to their foes in hiding.

Redoubling his pace, Logan arrived at the crash site roughly half an hour after the others. But who even were these other heroes? A hex witch, a tigress and a south American demigoddess. As feelings of paranoia so often prevailed in times of crisis, in the lurching shadow of the totalled terminal he looked to each of the heroines in turn, rife with suspicion, his piercing gaze frigid and ice-cold, questioning whether something as delicate a thing as trust could be forged from their alignment. “Is this it? Otherwise, who ‘else we waitin’ on?” Logan spat on the ground discourteously, clearing his throat with a guttural cough. Boorish rules were the call of the hour, the sooner they started to explore the wreckage, the better.

Drax’s thick boots buckled on the pavement. His senses caught onto the echo of rushing vehicles and their lights as they sped hastily past him on the streets. Scampering feet echoed in the dense silence of the night. He could only sharpen his gaze - hone his eyes in on every flickering light; each curious, menacing shadow that pulsated in his periphery. The cool night air bound him in unrest.

Solid fingers tightened their grip, curling themselves firmly over either of the deadly jagged blades. They were clutched to his sides and poised, smothered with clear polish that cracked at every peak, crumbling in a manner reminiscent of dust beneath every vanishing stroke that was made against it.

A simple chide was performed in his mind of memories; buried, hidden deep behind a wall of the thoughts that failed to pertain to this mission. With every step into the flickering artificial light, he could calculate the movements of the stars he felt peer at his undulating back. From their canopies of bleakness, the flames seemed to welcome him forward. Though they were high in the air; nearer to the home he once had known; central to their graves, he would not allow the stars to bring him comfort. 

Their figures fell into view before his gaze, and with solid eyes, he cast a look of welcome over his partners, people, allies, ‘friends’ who bound him in their scrutiny as if there were a schedule he hadn’t quite followed. One of them had his back turned, a mutant human hocking spittle over the littered cement ground as he spit a gelid question to his teammates.

His perception neglected to linger on the pairs of eyes that shifted over his stature. His teammates could have been earthlings; there also was the possibility that they were merely skrulls. A trickle of apprehension bolted through his spine and sent the man’s fingers binding themselves tighter around the handles of his blades. He stepped nearer into the group and registered the starlight as it cast shadows over their faces, amplifying the ominous tension of night. 

Daytime seemed to scoot itself farther away. The destroyer found himself possessed with the desire to speak - to address this quandary before it could progress, and he found his eyes drawn to a remote flaming pillar. “By no means is this ‘it,’” he told them. He returned his eyes to the team in one swift, reluctant motion and addressed them as a whole. “Are there more to be expected?”

“Greer,” Maria breathed in relief as the orange-furred silhouette became visible as she passed beneath the streetlight. The shapeshifter smiled at her friend and then frowned, immediately realizing that the tigress’s last encounter with the Skrulls was not pleasant (although, which encounters with the race were, to be honest?). The wind shifted and brought in a strange scent off of the river and she wrinkled her nose, lifting a hand from her pocket and placing it gently on the other woman’s shoulder. “How are you doing?” she asked quietly. “Are you okay? Is William-” Her imploring gaze was torn away from worrying over her friend to the dark-haired woman that emerged from the darkness. She recognized her at once as the Scarlet Witch- their assigned leader in this particular operation. “Hola,” Maria chimed, feeling more and more comfortable with the normalcy of her compatriots, even if the air was somber. “It’s been a long time, Wanda. I wonder if you’ve gotten any better at video games since we last played,” the Latina crowed, removing her hand from Greer’s shoulder and sauntering a few steps toward their leader as she neared them. She smirked. “Maybe we can play after this, ?”

“Once we reach the site, Greer and I should be able to pick up some sort of scent. Maybe we can poke around and look for any plans they might’ve left behind in the wreckage? A clue to wherever it is that they’re hiding?” Maria rattled off, her attention drawn away and her words slowed, trailing off at the end while her eyes adjusted to the night and she caught sight of a shorter male- one she immediately recognized at once by his strange, animalistic scent. “Hola, ese,” she spouted cheerfully. His grouchiness had been endearing the last time they’d met. “Decided against the hat tonight, then?” She grinned toothily, her incisors glinting just a touch too sharp in the intermittent glow of the fluorescents. “This is the best team. We’re the best trackers in the business, surely we can’t fail.”  The shapeshifter placed her hands on her hips and rocked forward anxiously onto her toes. There would be one more ferry that night that would take them to Staten Island and the scene of the crash. “I’m not sure who else is coming. Did anyone confirm with you, Wanda?” she asked, tilting her head and tossing her hair over one shoulder.

“Or maybe they’re already there?” She was chattering now, spurred on by the energy that coursed through her veins and the heat of the night that mingled with the strange scents from the water- musty air mixed with engine fumes. The crunch of thick rubber over semi-loose gravel on top of the asphalt drew her attention and Maria’s gaze flickered toward Greer, who must’ve heard it also- she must have. The tall, looming figure approached and the shapeshifter immediately transformed- it was as swift and as easy as breathing and the silver shuddered over her form like someone had poured molten mercury over the crown of her head. Fingertips lengthened and her eyes glowed an eerie crimson. Was this a Skrull? She bared her teeth. “Dios mio,” she murmured as the man stepped into the light. Was he a man? If so, he was easily the strangest she’d ever seen. Her mouth hung agape for nearly an entire minute- was he friend or foe? She had so many questions already and he’d only just arrived. Instead, she deferred to the Scarlet Witch, as she was, after all, their leader. “Who’s this?” she hissed through her silvery fanged maw. 

Hank McCoy must have nodded off in his lab, because it was the SHIELD alert coming in that awoke him. He had been up for days juggling various research projects. This evident invasion was just another problem to solve on top of all the others. Needless to say, it came as unexpected.

The mutant quickly scanned the rosters of each of the teams as well as all of the files pertaining to the members of his own team. So, he would be working under Wanda. He knew she was a very capable woman, but had yet to earn his trust back after the events of M-Day. This would be her chance to prove herself.

During a mission a few months back, Hank had encountered two Skrull defectors hiding on Earth. The geneticist had managed to obtain some DNA samples from them willingly. He simply had not expected it to come in handy so soon. Without bothering to change his clothes, he placed the samples securely in his lab coat pocket and set out to the designated meeting place.

Henry arrived on the scene shortly after Drax did. “I do not know who this man is, but I suspect he is not a Skrull, at least not one in their natural form,” stated the Beast, approaching the group. He glanced around at all of them. With the exception of the mysterious massive green man, the super-scientist was familiar with them all, having worked with each one. “I apologize for my tardiness. My body came to the decision that I required slumber, much to my chagrin. According to the files SHIELD provided, all but one of our team is now present. However, I am unaware as to whether Agent Malkin will grace us with his presence No matter. Shall we begin?”

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