10632/Selling Dreams, Buying Hope

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Selling Dreams, Buying Hope
Date of Scene: 04 January 2020
Location: Edinburgh, Scotland
Synopsis: One new mutant had. One problem in Scotland to resolve.
Cast of Characters: Magik, Nightingale, Cannonball, Dragonfly (Armenteros), Cypher




Magik has posed:
The video circulates in the wee hours of January 2nd, among the usual trending mess of a celebrity breakup, wildfires scorching Indonesia, and someone claiming Tony Stark washed up at a resort in Mauritius. Sadly, not Tony but someone who sure as heck spent as though he were. Light sizzles in a blur in the video, bending wildly as though the lens is fogged up. A horrified squeal becomes a giddy laugh as the fog distorts itself and becomes the distinct outline of an arm against a mortared stone wall, probably belonging to a rather old shop. The bottom of the video bears a string of ghost emoji and the trending tags with several thousand hits: '#hauntededinburgh #animathief'

"Oh my God! This is amazing!" someone's voice is high-pitched and full of excitement, strung out by a vague mushy Scottish accent that is neither Highlander or posh Harry Potter student.

The ephemeral arm slides into a wall and comes right back. Gasps follow, and another person mutters, "You nutter."

The arm belongs to a body that never comes fully into frame. The person holding the phone drunkenly swings it and the scene panned in that upright rectangle blurs between dark shadows, wet cobbles and fiery spectacles. Lanterns and even a barrel blazes. Briefly visible shop signs are English, with 'Castlehill Cashmere' and 'Cannonball Bar' briefly visible. There's an -awful- lot of fire around and people packing the streets, some half-dressed, the feeling of Mardi Gras in a northern environment present.

One of the crowd stops and points. "What the living hell? That guy's got see-through legs--"

That's when the shouting begins, panicked instructions and aggressive hoots from a drunken audience coming to deal with 'the crazy guy with no legs. The person holding the camera clearly starts to run as the video ends.

Nightingale has posed:
     It's just a normal Friday evening, with classes long past, supper long since over, and studying done for the day. Shannon's chilling out in the rec room at the mansion, just going through some random videos online when she comes across the little gem of the 'Anima Thief'. Her eyebrows shoot right up as she watches the whole thing play out, her evening snack of peanut butter-stuffed celery with raisins on top forgotten for the moment. She's in her red tartan sweatpants, her baggy gray tank top, and her sheepdog slippers, all set to relax. However, she had a funny feeling relaxation was going to be in short supply tonight....

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie has saw the vid, and has grabbed his gear. He put out the word for who is about to join him in the Rec Room. He hopes Illy gets the message from the communicators they have hopefully she aint in limbo. In will come walking into the rec Room, to see who is there who he might draft into going.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
     A normal Friday evening for Cassandra means relaxing in the rec room, taking a long, hot bath, and going to sleep, only to wake up when her body tells her that she's had enough sleep for now and her bladder demands attention. It's one of the things that she really, really enjoys doing - sleeping until she wakes up - but it seems, with this interesting encounter that happened just this evening, that may not be happening. "What'cha watching?" She asks Shannon as she sees the winged girl studying the screen, leaning over, even popping up her goggles so she can see a little better, wincing at the light. She's getting used to the bright.

     Looking over at Shannon, Gwendolyn taps the screen. "I think that person needs an assist." Simple and succint. She's been doing a little training, here and there, so she's a little more confident about such things, and looking over when Samuel walks in, dressed in his gear, she straightens. "So I'm guessing you saw this little display in Edinbrough?"

Magik has posed:
    Details for the viewers are harmful enough to amount to something: the anima thief has a ghostly arm and apparently ghostly legs, and is /probably/ a Scottish male. The collection of replies on the Anima Thief seems either bemused ("Is this real?" and "Another cheap Hogmanay stunt" being popular) or deeply disturbing ("Uhh, a ghost thief? Lock your shite up cos our cops are doomed" and "Someone stop that freak").

The usual anti-supernatural rhetoric is there, but a recent string of replies keeps pinging with those hashtags and they're ugly. Several accounts use #ghosthunters as their own tag and uniformly post the same kind of message: We're going to find you and then there'll be hell to pay. Those accounts have no other links or likes, except to promise violence.

The rec room isn't too busy on the whole. In the corner is a folded paper bag bearing Cyrillic and a picture of a bear holding a box of buns or pastries of some kind. It smells of honey, still vaguely warm. The empty saucer suggests where Illyana has been, which means returning from the kitchen or, for all anyone knows, St. Petersburg for a cup of Russian tea. Strong, black, and a punch to the face of flavour. She startles at the collection of people. "Did I miss that the new season for the witch show started?"

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon takes one look at Gwendolyn and nods curtly. "Agreed." Of late, her confidence has been increasing as well, with training, and a possible new direction for her healing gifts.. She flips her laptop closed and stuffs it into her bag, slinging it over her shoulder--just as Sam comes in. Yeah, she sees his gear, so she knows full well something's up. She snaps him a jaunty little two-finger salute, Luke Skywalker style, addressing him, but including both Gwendolyn and Illyana in her regard. "I know that look, big brother. You need help, you got it, just let me go change." With that, she's off to her dorm to put something else on other than her PJ's.

Honestly, why did all the big things have to happen when one was in their PJ's?

Cypher has posed:
Doug is in a coffee shop in New York City, on his laptop -- text to voice works easily enough where he's at. He leans back in his chair and sips his cappuchino, as he types.

His voice pipes through on the other end. Well, a weird digital version of his voice. "I'm tracing the source of those comments now," He says, "And seeing if I can get you more details on the origin of the video. Should just be a tick."

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie looks over and sas "Civia with uniform underneath, not fully sure, what we are going into. He looks to Gwen, and says "Care to come along and see what we do when were trying to help people?" He looks over to Illyana "Seems we got an incident, we need to go check out."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Glancing to Shannon as she heads out of the room, Gwendolyn looks to Samuel when he invites her along. She bobs her head, smiles, looks to Illyana for a second and then sprints out of the room to change into the suggested wear, informing Shannon of the suggested outfit before she gets too into what she's going to wear. "They invited me along!" she calls down the hall as she disappears into her room, emerging a few minutes later in her usual outfit with her uniform underneath, the bulky imager on her wrist making her blend in that much easier. And once she's dressed, down the stairs she scampers, sliding into the rec room while pulling on her right boot.

Magik has posed:
The teacup goes to Illyana's lips, respite from conversation and figuring out what's going on. Or maybe she already knows. Her poker face would make a stone statue opponent seem rather goofily expressive, particularly with those frosty blue eyes taking in the others. When the communicators feed through Doug's voice, she turns her head slightly to the side, and scrapes her fingers against her blonde hair pulled into a bun. Could well be her naptime, too, because she nods crisply to Shannon. "And people wonder why I sleep in my armour." All's fair in love, war, and definitely not at bedtime.

Another flick of her wrist produces the impressive effect of drawing out the hilt of a sword from her forearm, slotting into her palm. Which implies the blade is, in fact, embedded deeper. "Sam," she covers her mouth. "Where are you sending us?" She doesn't need to carry the uniform underneath, exactly, because it's always there if she needs it.

Data continues to filter through at a slowed rate, the day creeping along in America. And elsewhere, a city regathers to pay homage to the New Year with fire, booze, and so much partying long, long into the night.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon calls back, grinning briefly to Gwendolyn. "Why did you think they wouldn't? Told ya, Sam doesn't ask that kind of stuff randomly. So let's get dressed, and I'd turn your inducer on for this one." With that, she ducks into her room, and comes out a few minutes later in a simple white sweater, dark blue jeans, and sturdy but comfortable black leather boots. She's tied her hair back in a ponytail--including the little blue braid with its silver beads. She also, oddly enough, seems to be without her wings, having turned on her image inducer. Tied to her belt is her little brown leather bag, which she never seems to be without. Pausing at her doorway, she ducks back into her dorm, coming out a moment later with her staff, using it for the moment as a walking stick. Hopefully it would not be needed, she had no wish to put what training she'd had to the test just yet. But you never know!

"Okay, big thing? Listen to your team lead and obey them. I learned that the hard way my second time out. Thought for sure I'd obeyed orders but it wasn't seen that way. So... just follow Sam's lead, 'k?" She walks with Gwendolyn back to the rec room, to rejoin Sam and Illyana.

Cypher has posed:
Doug's computer voice says, "I sleep in my jimjams."

He continues typing. "Okay. Based on what I'm looking at, I think they've got a lead on this kid's location. This sort of aggressive cyberbullying is a precursor to realspace action. Bring your coats, you're going to Edinburgh."

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie hmms and nods his head a bit and says "Edinburgh, ok, think we can handle that, you wanting to play eye in the sky or coming in person with us Dig Dug? He looks over to illyana "Some of us have seen you change clothes in limbo." He teases illynana a bit before the girls get back.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Gwendolyn hopes its okay to be nervous - because she is. Her imager is already on, so instead of the insect-eyed girl everyone may be used to, a pretty-looking Cuban girl with brown eyes stands there in her winter gear, fidgeting from foot to foot. At least she's dressed warmly for the encounter. "So Edinburgh." She bounces on her toes. "Never been to Scotland before." Her voice is wary, but excited. "So...we going to hit an airport, or does the X-mansion have a private jet or something?"

Magik has posed:
The golden-haired Russian smirks. Just for an instant, no more. She sets down the cup of tea and gives Sam an even look as the glimmering length of the blade extends, drawn out to glow like a ray of sunshine. "Some of us have good shields guarding our backs," she fires back at him. Just a rare glimpse of a smile before the other two come back, and she looks over to see Gwen and her mighty boot make their entrance. "I can zero in on the location to pick you up. Just try to keep your chair still if so." This warning presumably has to be to Doug. The first sparks of a crackling portal open up.

"Air travel takes too long," she says simply. The widening gyre opens from her feet and angles backwards, giving a view of a rather famous castle and many medieval buildings pressed together cheek by jowl below them. It's night and Lond--- Edinburgh is burning. The fire festival to honour the new year seethes, a furious brilliance and the bonhomie of many revelers out to squeeze through the narrow cobblestone roads gathered beneath the castle on its volcanic outcrop audible even through the slice in the world. "We step through and we go. Coming, <<volchonok>>?"

Nightingale has posed:
     Travel by Illyana portal was a new one on Shannon, eliciting an arched brow. But she smiles briefly at Gwendolyn, resting a hand briefly on her shoulder for support and hopefully a bit of calm and strength. "I've never been to Scotland either. Doesn't look like we're flying, though. Situation's a little bit urgent for that." Gwen might have seen Shannon nervous, she might have seen her excited and happy, but this? This is deadly calm. Sam might have seen this on her a few times before. Right now, she is all business.

Cypher has posed:
"Everyone on board for the quick ticket to Hell," Doug says, "Next stop, demons, pools of magma, gibbering monstrosities, madness beyond the ken of mortal men-- then Edinburgh."

"Looks like he's going to be at the bonfires. Look for red wellies and a purple overcoat."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:

The only time Gwendolyn has seen one of Illyana's portals in action was about a month ago when she was given a Cafe Cubano from a little stall in the middle of the boardwalk in Havana. She watched as the blonde-haired woman reached through a portal and made one just appear, so it just goes to show that, yes, she probably could make a larger one to step through but actually doing it was...well...a little nerve wracking. Shannon's calm helps a lot, and Gwendolyn reaches up to squeeze the other girl's hand as she rests it on her shoulder, nodding. "Doesn't look like it." She agrees, looking to Samuel. "By your lead, sir." The comments about going to hell are....not taken well, but Illyana seems calm about it, as does the tinny tone of Doug's voice on the other end of whatever he's communicating through. Thankfully, at some point, her earplugs were wired in, so she's getting it clear as day.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie nods, and says "Illyana is in charge there, don't go off touching things or wander from the group, you will be safe with us, but can be a bit of a shock the first time. He moves to stand behind the new girls, making sure they stay close.

Magik has posed:
Good things come to those who wait, surely. The world on the other side is so close the revelers slipping past the wall could be touched, or their drinks grabbed. Thick crowds contain more than a few heavily inebriated folks, the young just as prevalent as older adults. A dozen languages might be heard in quick succession: French, Mandarin, Punjabi, Polish, Glaswegian. They'll be pressed into the thick of it from the get-go, looked over by burnished stained glass windows and daunting, high skyscrapers of an era before buildings got past six storeys.

"Communicators won't work briefly. Mind the static," advises Illyana as she steps deeper into that saturated golden portal with the sword lifted to keep the barrier apart. "Stay perfectly close please. Regardless of what temptations you might happen to see."

Stepping through -should- bring them to Edinburgh... and to an outsider, the four mutants step from Salem Center to Ramsay Close on the other side of the Atlantic at the speed of thought. Except it doesn't happen that way. The first step is a free fall going up and down simultaneously at speeds breaking the sound barrier and worse, swan-diving into the hollow core of the earth and being flung into lunar orbit. Psychedelic shades bleed in, a spindled cacophony of scarlet and gold clashing together and ripped asunder. Euclidean geometry goes out the door as roaring pillars overflowing with magma burst into massive bronze towers, jagged spires tipped in lightning that rips back and forth between them. Seething demonic masses rage their warfare beneath the rocky promontory, rolling cavalry charging on an infantry wielding siege weapons made from things no one ought to have. If //Lord of the Rings// met //Sandman// by way of the 'Crow' movies on an Edgar Allen Poe-themed night in Oxford, it probably would've produced the cacophony of incipient violence.

Something vaguely female with a twenty-foot wingspan and a barbed tail descends off one of those towers at full shriek, claws extended, fangs flashing as it plummets down to strike another galumphing elasmosaur without eyes and far too many spikes. "Just checking in," murmurs the demon-queen of Limbo. They'll miss the meteor bombardment from that wrathful red sky, as the friendly way -out- is just a skip over a thin rivulet of blood-dark liquid that hums with fatal whispers and fraught, pensive screams. Don't listen too hard. "Onward?"

Onward brings them flat out into the cool, but not unpleasantly chilly Edinburgh night. All those contained blazes in the barrels set along the descending steep route are meant for warmth and light too. Plus, the masses of humanity teem along, oblivious to people just showing up in a doorway. Singers move among the rest. It's rather hard to miss the enormous pyre at the bottom of the Royal Mile or the venues for dancing, on platforms around the fire. And it honestly looks like people are leaping -through- the flames.

Nightingale has posed:
     There had been some eerie nightmares teeming in Shannon's mind at times, when the dam had finally burst upon dark dreams held back and stuffed in a shadowy corner of her mind for too long. There had been horrors none should have had to see or experience. But even those didn't quite prepare her for the sheer scale of the violence in Limbo. And yet, in its own way, it had an eerie sort of beauty as well, a double-edged blade both deadly and glittering with promise. It is only that deadly calm that keeps the winged healer on an even keel for the trip through the portal, and gets her out safely on the other side.

     Though invisible, she keeps her wings tucked in tightly behind her, waiting for the others to catch up. A brief smile crosses her face as she glances about in the night. She'd always wanted to see Scotland, just not quite under these circumstances. Briefly, she wonders just what part of the country the Guthrie clan originated from. Perhaps a question to ask Sam later?

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Gwendolyn's trip through the portal was terrifying, for a time. While the sights and the sounds would have normally been overwhelming, some of the technology built in lowered the sounds and sights, letting her focus on the people nearby and not the mind-rending chaos erupting from all sides in a neverending war. What managed to seep through was enough to make her not want to spend any amount of time visiting there. The heat on her skin, the stench of battle and bloodletting and the simple sensation of /falling into oblivion/ very nearly had her snap her wings out and catch herself but, with Illyana acting calm despite it all, and Shannon being there, and this being her first mission? Gwendolyn wanted to be sure it all worked out well in the end. So she stayed with the group.

It was only a few seconds, too, but the insect-eyed girl had apparently been holding her breath the whole way through, letting out and sucking in a lungful of cold, pure Scottish air. Sure, it's in the middle of a city during a fire festival, but compared to limbo? Pure and fresh as the driven snow. "S..so." She straightens, looking about. "Red Wellies and a purple overcoat, right?" She rubs her hands over her arms, the double-layer of clothing and uniform beneath keeping her warmer than she was used to.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie steps through with the girls, and says "It is not always as hectic but it can be a rather interesting trip. Illyana is the boss there so as long as your with her your good." He does not seem phased by it but he got his frequent flyer miles when he was their age.

Cypher has posed:
"They're making a move on him now." Doug radios in, from where he's sitting, as he starts calling up satellite views of the city. "Old town... I'm tracking CCTV outages and I'm giving you their location. Look for them in the vicinity of... Dugan's Pub, in Old Town."

He sits back, at his computer, and rubs the back of his neck.

Magik has posed:
The castle broods over its narrow path flanked by stores, pubs, and the occasional high end hotel capitalizing on wealth of the tourist dollar. The police presence isn't particularly light, but nothing like New York. Barricades keep people from wandering into the narrow, long staircases that slip down the slopes of the steep hill Edinburgh's Old Town is built on. Wristbands in red, green, and purple all indicate access somewhere or another, but pushing into the main venue isn't hard. It just takes a while of being jostled and pushed about, moving with a living stream. Illyana is the last to step forth from Limbo, the sword extinguished by banishing it to who knows where. Hammerspace, inside her aura, somewhere.

"Correct description," she agrees with Gwendolyn. "Bad fashion." A sidelong glance to a carouser getting a little too close sends him scuttling away into the grumbling masses.

Finding someone in that mess is going to be tough and call for patience. No signs of a purple coat attached to anyone but a woman in a much too short dress or a huge stuffed bear outside a gimmicky tourist shop hawking postcards and t-shirts at extortionist rates. Most of the pubs have proper old-fashioned shingles hanging outside them, suggesting their name. A roar of excitement goes up as another fire jumper leaps across the flames from one platform to another, and that's no mean feat considering the distance. Whiskey is rewarded, a bottle hoisted high.

"Mum will be so proud!" cries the young man. "Beat that, Euan!"

Forty-eight seconds later, @ThistleChap99 has a blurry jump over the fire posted to his account. It's reposted a minute after that by @AnimaThief with 'Coming right up, boyo.'

Cypher has posed:
"All right," Doug chimes in, "Looks like they're jumping over bonfires. Which is a really dubious tradition if you ask me. Just be careful, I think the people out to get this kid are closing in. Also, I think he's a slippery one, you may have to talk him into going with you, a grab-and-go might not be on the table here."

Nightingale has posed:
     With no idea where to even begin the search, Shannon slips her phone from her pocket, to go over the video that had been the catalyst for the group's impromptu trip to Edinburgh. Maybe there was something in there, some landmark or notable building, some details that would help make the haystack of humanity a smaller one for the red-and-purple needle to hide in. From the way Doug had been sounding, there was not going to be much time to act, so they couldn't afford to be wandering about to find this person.

     Sure enough, just as Doug's voice goes out over the comms, she catches sight of the new post. "Ask and ye shall receive. Looks like this area over here could be a good place to start. Thoughts, everyone?"

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Being wired in is always a good thing, so when Doug announces where they might be, Gwendolyn is up on her toes, looking in that direction, glancing down at her phone to see if anything pokes out that's obvious. If she could take off and get a higher vantage point, she would, but having a girl fly up out of nothing isn't inconspicuous, so she just clicks down on her heels and thinks. "If he's jumping and if I were an ass, I'd either try to get him before he goes up or after he comes down. And that bein' a bonfire?" She gestures to the bonfire. "Prob'ly means he's gonna take off that overcoat and wellies of his b'fore makin' the leap. I guess we can go over there an' jus' look? Hell, mebbye get Illy or me or someone t' jump over, what to distract everyone once we get eyes on the kid?"

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie looks over, and says "Ok girls, Ah want you to head down the straight way, Ah am going to head to the other side, see if we can get ahead of him, and also see if Ah can get a look n who might be after him. He looks to Illyana you got the girls." He starts to head around the area.

Magik has posed:
A map app -- or looking for the sign -- easily does the trick to find the dubiously named Dugan's, a bar on the ground floor and subbasement of one of those large buildings. The windows get a view onto the fire jumping, or at least the outer edges. Above seems to be given over to a budget hotel charging way too much money for shared rooms and lots of noise. The place is adjacent to a narrow alley cutting down steps; running those would be suicidal. Shannon can easily navigate her way there. Plenty of balconies and even a tall statue of a Scottish philosopher -- currently wearing a party hat placed there by someone who climbed him -- give perches for the bewinged or just the really excitable.

The crowds at least offer hope no one can flee very fast. Not without turning to smo... well, point made.

The bonfire is a big central flame surrounded by three smaller ones at all the compass points. Metal platforms are set up to allow people to leap over the large one with a running start, while the three small fires have a raised square to make a leap safe and rather certain. A few lines weave around as more adventurous, athletic, or foolish people decide to take their turns. Staff in bright yellow shirts branded with 'Hogmanay - 2028!' organize who goes where. The roaring crowd, separated by a metal fence, cheers them on.

Mostly. A few stare, and one or two lookie-loos are clearly too busy being sick on their shoes. Gwendolyn has some wading to do to find a purple coat, but the benefit here: so much light. The Anima Ghost is up on the big platform, waiting for one person to make a leap that lands rather unspectacularly.

Nightingale has posed:
     Let them think her just particularly nimble, or simply foolhardy. Shannon didn't really much care at the moment, so long as she could climb up on that statue for a better vantage point. Nobody could see her wings anyways, not with the inducer on. Smiling as she settles on the back of the statue, she moves as if to add her own festive touches to the statue's party wear. It didn't seem so likely that people would see, or if they did, even really care--how else would a hat have gotten up there, anyways? She studies the crowds and the bonfire jumpers, narrowing her eyes. 'Coming right up, boyo', had been the post. So it seemed likely that the Anima Ghost would be in line to leap the flames, if not on one of the platforms already.

     Bingo. There were the red wellies. Tapping her comm, Shannon keeps her voice low, but still audible over the din. "Guys, I've got a bead on him. Looks like he's getting ready to jump the big fire. Red wellies, Doug called that one spot on."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Gwendolyn was always good at getting through crowds. Something she learned on the streets of New Orleans and on the way up north during her exodus from the mutant-hating parts of the world was how to move, and it's working well here. As the crowd goes, so does she, finding the little eddies of movement to slip through, spring up and over, and, yes, even leap once, grab a lamp post and, with an invisible flick of her wings, fling herself over a knot of people who are busy watching the jumpers instead of moving like they should be. Yes, she could have asked them to move, but this is much faster!

"I'm on the other side of the platform where they come down." Gwendolyn murmurs into her comlink, her voice quiet, the visor doing wonders to lessen the cacophony of noise and the brilliance of light from the bonfire, but it doesn't do much for the heat. "Let me know when he jumps and...I'll talk to him." She sounds brave, but nervous. "Try and get him somewhere for a drink. Use my feminine wiles."

Here's hoping the Anima Ghost is attracted to brunettes!

Magik has posed:
"Wooo! Euan, go fer it!" shouts one of the crowd groupies, holding up an expensive phone.

His friend's neighbour looks around and nods emphatically. "Kick their arses!"

Is that a knife?

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon frowns, catching the glint of a knife. In a flash, she's on the comlink again. "Watch out down there, Gwendolyn. Someone's armed and it looks like it could get real ugly real quick." One finger hovers over the button of her own image inducer, ready to provide a distraction if need be. However, for the moment, she refrains, acting as the group's eyes in the sky.

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Word of a knife causes Gwendolyn to still, her arms going down by her sides. Beneath the clothes her uniform is tailored to allow the spines on her forearms free movement, so that's what she does, extending them to their full length of about six inches after rolling up the sleeves of her sweater. With the inducer going, it just looks like she's hot. Her hands do move up to pull her hair back in a ponytail, her senses sharp. "Where's the knife?" she asks Shannon quietly. "Just so I know who to watch out for..."

Magik has posed:
It stands to reason that the two more experienced members of the team are on the outer fringes of the crowd, winnowing through it. For Illyana, the task is more about hunting like a great cat through the masses. Sam is something more akin to a hawk or a wolf, circling around to cut off another of the ways out. The blonde Russian remains hard to spot in the midst, given her lack of height, but someone hustling into motion might just get a sharp elbow in the ribs.

Subtlety in the anti-mutant campaign is not especially high on the list. Someone jumps from the queue -- the worst of British sins! -- and makes a run for the ramp. Euan, the Anima Thief, is already starting to panic, his body warping in and out of being. Which, of course, earns quite a few panicky shouts. Gwendolyn has her date picked out. The guy with the knife is already pushing to climb over the fence, leaving the friend recording this for Twitter freaking out. "Ahh! That guy is a slasher! Heeeeelp!"

Nightingale has posed:
     A few choice phrases in varied languages escape Shannon's lips. Perched on the statue as she is, she spreads her (invisible) wings, ready for flight if need be. "Head of the line, Gwen, your date's on the platform getting ready to jump. He's... it's weird, he's phasing. Probably scared out of his wits. Ready to move if you need it, just say the word." Crossing her fingers, she hopes and prays Gwendolyn can get their mark to calm down long enough to pull him out of danger, before an anti-mutant stampede started!

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
When Shannon points out the man who's rushing the front of the line, Gwendolyn does what she's been trained to do which is, simply, get the knife away from the guy. She's got a bit of training and armor. The Anima Thief, whoever he is, is pretty much a sitting duck once he's lept to the other side of the platform so it's up to Gwendolyn to make things happen, as it were.

Striding forward, Gwendolyn reaches and grabs the man's leg with both hands and gives him a yank. Without her augmented strength, the man would almost certainly kick off, but with what she's got under the hood, she more than likely pulls him off the fence and sends him skidding down the street a few feet! "Go on then, Boyo. Let the kid jump, yeah? Or we might have us a few problems." She kicks a stone towards the fallen slasher, looking up towards the platform. "Go on an' jump. Show your bravery. We'll take care of things down here for yeh."

Cypher has posed:
"All right," Doug radios, "They're forming a net, but they don't want to tip off the police so there's a gap in their coverage at the police posting by the tourist shop... here." The location pops up on somebody's phone. "That's where you funnel the kid through to get him out of there. Otherwise, the noose is closing in on him."

Magik has posed:
The interest of the watchful crowd is quickly turning into concern as a fight breaks out. Or several hotspots, that is. Gwendolyn reaching for the knife, an ugly and long thing chosen for its dark blade rather than something bright and shiny. Flames crackle wildly in the background as the mutant kicks away the assailant, but that's only one. Disarming him leaves some poor girl screaming in terror, clinging to her boyfriend. The shouts grow louder, and spread like wildfire. "Knives! Someone's got a knife!"

"What's going on with him up there? He's going to blow up on us!" shouts another bystander, which absolutely does not help.

Speaking of, the poor mutant kid is swishing from a gaseous state to flesh like a demented light bulb being flashed on and off. He backs up to the edge of the platform, which has a very not helpful jump -into- the fire. Which is perfectly fine for Mr. Rugby Bruiser shoving the thinned line-up out of the way, rushing to jump him. Maybe into the fire. Definitely not good.

Sam over there might be helpfully blocking a troublemaker from approaching any near. Illyana has not the same subtlety, merely opting to glare down the fellow she elbowed and, when he doesn't get the point, going for the collar of his shirt. Or his throat. Hey, it at least keeps him busy!

Nightingale has posed:
     Crap. Not good! Gwendolyn was going to need some backup. And the noose was closing fast, the open spot by the tourist shop closer to Shannon than to Gwendolyn. She had to keep that spot open and give her and the Anima Ghost an escape route. Subtlety was going to go out the window real quick soon enough. She leaps down from the statue and makes her way over to the tourist shop, to keep the way clear. "Better hurry, Gwen. See if you can talk the kid down and send him this way."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Time to be the Ugly American.

With the noose tightening, Gwendolyn moves into action. The knife that's been dropped is kicked away and, with a leap, Gwendolyn is standing astride the fence, wobbling a little on the unstable wooden platform. She leaps a second time, her wings snapping out to allow her to glide, landing on the other platform's steps and running up, and then leaping across the flaming gap to grab the blinking boy, flying him (hopefully!) to safety. If she's unlucky and he happens to be gaseous at the time, the rugby guy is going to get a solid shoulder-tackle from a girl pushing off with her very strong legs into him!

Magik has posed:
It's pretty hot up there, and the lanky Scottish kid proves to be -somewhat- corporeal in the chest and thighs when Gwendolyn snatches him. Fast as the rugby thug is, he cannot quite match warnings from an angel and speed of insectoid reflexes. There is no friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man or Wasp here to interpose themselves.

Euan, however, is a flailing mess. He grunts, "What's going on here? I can't make it stop! I can't..." He bobs right up from the ground and then lands back heavily, trying not to flail and certainly not doing much to aid himself other than scrabbling.

"This way!" a helpful shout from Sam will prevail, opening up a route to the tourism bureau. Clearing the way is integral, as Shannon's efforts keep a clear path going. Which, of course, means the tourism info booth is about to beocme a TARDIS once the weary blonde sorceress bobs her way out of the crowd with bruised knuckles. Exit plan, go!

Cypher has posed:
"I'm going to create a little confusion for them," Doug says. "I'm feeding false information about where you're going and what you're doing to their phones, it should keep them from coordinating to close on your position." He one-hands his keyboard, as he sips his coffee with the other, and says, "You're almost in the clear."

Nightingale has posed:
     Hopefully, it wouldn't be needed, but just in case, Shannon assumes a ready stance with her staff gripped in both hands, relaxed yet poised for blocking would-be assailants. As Euan passes her, she offers what she hopes is a reassuring smile. "Hang in there," she says. "You're among friends now. We'll do what we can to keep you safe." Nodding over towards the info booth, her tone does take on a slight note of urgency. "Better get a shift on, and whatever you do, stay close. We've got your back."

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
"I'm here to help you." Succinct and to the point, Gwendolyn is, flashing him a brilliant smile. "Just focus on me, okay? We'll get you somewhere safe, help you figure out how to make it stop. C'mon. Arm around me. On the trot." Gwendolyn hefts him by whatever corporeal bit she can handle and runs, carrying him along with her, like a battering ram through the crowd. God help anyone who puts a hand or foot in her way because baby, it's getting knocked out of the way. And if someone tries to grab her? Spines on her forearms will certainly make that a bad idea for them. She's not intentionally going to hurt someone, of course, but if it happens in her exodus with Euan? Well, something that'll need to be dealt with in training for certain.

Magik has posed:
Well, the arm that goes around Gwendolyn has mass until it doesn't. The shouts behind her get louder, a raucous "Get the freak!" rising in shouts. But unfortunately, there really isn't much four men can do to weave through the masses and reach them in time. Not with the door open on. The portal snaps open when Illyana manages to put her back to the round wall of the booth, gesturing rapidly. People are going to see it, either way, and there are fingers pointed and confused looks all around. Herding in the poor Scottish gas-cloud kid in is troubling enough.

Doug, on the other side, gets to see the delight of Police Scotland finally figuring out how to hook up their CCTV cameras. Immediately an alert is flashed to capture some knife-wielding maniacs in the middle of Old Town. Reinforcements are on their way.

Nightingale has posed:
     There was just no way that the police were going to stay out of this for much longer. It was time for the group to make their exit, post-haste. As soon as Gwendolyn and Euen are clear of the crowd and on their way to the info booth, she turns to follow them.

     A quick smile is offered to Gwen and Euen, Illyana and Sam, and she winks at the poor, frightened kid. "Just a quick step through and we'll be to safety. You'll be alright, we've got friends who can help you." Ohhh boy. She could just imagine Euen's reaction when he saw their true forms. Hopefully he'd take the sight of insectoid eyes or angelic wings well!

Dragonfly (Armenteros) has posed:
Not to mention the brief passage through Limbo. Gwendolyn is still shaking that off but, to be fair, she's positively buzzing with excitement! She saved someone! She pulled a guy off a fence who was going to attack this kid with a knife, flew over /fire!/, tackled another guy, and saved someone! Once she hits the ground with Euen she hustles towards the exit, bundling into the booth where Illyana and her portal await. "This is going to be a little wierd." She warns. "Best close your eyes for the short trip to safety. And don't worry. I'm here, and Shan's here. We'll get you somewhere safe." Then, looking to Illyana for approval, Gwendolyn waits for the go ahead to head through the portal and into Limbo.

Cypher has posed:
"And there we go." Doug says, leaning back in his seat, "Score one for the forces of law and order."

He sits back, as they pass into Limbo and communication is cut off.