16481/Rabble Rousing

Rabble Rousing
Date of Scene:	15 August 2024
Location:	Salem Center, Westchester County
Synopsis:	Mutants try to go for Pizza, run into some Friends of Humanity...but find some friends of their own
Cast of Characters:	Rogue, Gambit, Spawn, Magneto, Mon-El

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Rogue has posed:
Salem center, not a far trip from the school and certainly a brief hop for those who can fly...but also a perfect spot for someone who might like to find themself a little break from the restrictions of the school. Making her way down the street, Rogue however wasn't escaping the students today...she was planning to feed some of them: she was headed towards the Pizza Joint to place the orders for...well, a lot more than she could eat.

Dressed down in civillian gear, the young woman had gone for jeans and a cropped dark green top, a sheer over-shirt worn over as an interesting fashion choice...but a protection against accidental contact.

Of course, it wasn't known by the Southern Bell that ahead already the stirings of trouble was pulling up to the parking lot.

Gambit has posed:
Remy LeBeau walks beside the Southern Belle, fingers laced behind his head as they head to the Pizza place. "So dare mah Pappa, 'is face covered, an' Ah mean completely covered in custard. De gaurds got dis clown pin to de ground. Everyone quiet. Like yah coulda 'eard a fly fart. in dat room... Den Pappa take a finger, wipe 'is cheek wit' it.." Remy mimes this action and pops the finger in his mouth then adds "And den 'e says, 'Ah do believe it's Pineapple."

Spawn has posed:
It's at or near sunset, and Spawn has a fetish for sunsets. He's perched himself on the very western edge of the highest roof in the area (assuming that's either City Hall or Hospital or maybe that luxury tower of apartments). The usually un-missable giant is crouched down, cape drawn around him, unseen. He isn't invisible or phased out until the remaining daylight passes through him, he's just way up there and as unmoving as a decorative crenellation or gargoyle would be.

Magneto has posed:
Dressed in a crisp linen shirt, tailored to perfection, and lightweight trousers that whispered of summer luxury, Erik exuded a refined charm that contrasted sharply with the street's casual atmosphere. He maintained a deliberate proximity to Rogue, ensuring he stayed on the street side, as any gentleman would. "You know, Rogue," he said with a playful lilt, "if I didn't know better, I'd say you're on a mission to make even pizza delivery look fashionable." His gaze flicked toward Gambit, voice laced with teasing warmth, "do you ever worry that your charm will one day backfire and cause you more trouble than your cards ever could?"

Mon-El has posed:
    There is someone else sitting up on that roof enjoying the sunset as well, nearby to where Spawn is presumably trying to be inconspicuous. Lar is just lounging near the edge, leaning back slightly against a big air conditioning unit. It may seem a bit odd, as he's just wearing civilian clothing as well, like the mutants below. But hey, maybe he climbed the stairs.

Rogue has posed:
"Is even halfa that story real?" Rogue questions, but there's a roll of her eyes and a smile to her lips as she made her way towards the door of the pizza joint. "Just tell me you have the list there, because I don't really want to be flying back just to hear complaints..." A glance between the men either side of her and the woman gives a little shake of her head in amusement.

Elsewhere, across the parking lot, a pair of pickup trucks begin to unload their bounty of several men in what looks to be 'hunting' gear, complete with webbing and camo patterning...and they were headed in first.

It wouldn't be the strangest sight in some places...but in the middle of Salem Center? Not so much...and a notable 'FoH' decal in the corner of the rear window of one truck?

Well, odds are they were looking for trouble.

Gambit has posed:
Remy LeBeau smirks just a little bit, "Every single word of it, especially de parts Ah lied about." He says to Rogue, adding to Magneto, "De t'ought nevah actually cross mah mind. Ah suppose Ah nevah talk mah way inta somet'ing Ah not able ta talk mah way out of. We got bogies at ten and two o'clock high." He adds the last part with the same casual delivery as he told his amusing story, to an outside observer you'd have never noticed a reaction from the Master Thief. Strange he was able to spot Mon-El and Spawn without actually ever looking up, but there you go.

Spawn has posed:
Clear up in that high place, the blood-red cape clinging to Spawn's body suddenly lets itself loose and starts blowing in the wind. It isn't that the wind isn't blowing at high altitude, it's that the wind isn't blowing that direction when the cape unfurls in an ever-elongating red flag which seems to try to drag the Hellspawn in the direction of the pizza place.

Slowly, maybe reluctantly, the monster drops one leg down onto the rooftop and then paces along where the cape "wants" him to go. When he reaches the edge where he can look directly down over the parking lot, he steps up onto that ledge and stands there staring down. It's definitely a humanoid figure up there, now, ready to take a flying leap.

Magneto has posed:
Erik Lehnsherr's gaze shifted from Remy's casual banter to the encroaching threat with a practiced eye, though his demeanor remained effortlessly charming. "Ah, Rogue, I do believe that if I didn't know any better, I'd say you've brought a bit of excitement to our otherwise uneventful pizza outing," he teased, his smile warm. "And Remy, while your stories are delightfully entertaining, I'm starting to think that maybe my luck has run out if even your casual observations are leading us into trouble." His eyes flicked toward the camouflaged figures emerging from the trucks, then back to the rooftop where Spawn loomed. "It seems our dinner plans might need a bit of a detour. Since I'm merely a guest in your charming town, I'll defer to your judgment, do we handle this as an inconvenience, or should we show these newcomers the true meaning of local hospitality?"

Mon-El has posed:
    The way the sky would turn nice warm colors at dusk here on Earth was quite nice. Sure, Lar has seen other beautiful planets, but this place wasn't bad at all when it came to nice views.

    However, he definitely notices a bunch of people in hunting gear. Yes, hunting was one thing, but this wasn't exactly the sort of place one would find big game animals. He doesn't really know what that decal means, but they look like trouble so he attempts to use his X-ray vision to peer into the trucks in search of anything suspicious or sinister looking.

Rogue has posed:
Suspicious? Sinister looking? The trucks indeed had their own equipment within that might not seem that suspicious in certain circumstances. After all, there's such a thing as hunting and rifles, knives and such might be perfectly innocent. Most hunting trips didn't take place in this sort of area...and the addition of zip-ties and baseball bats? Well...those weren't for deer.

They'd come looking for a mutant or two they could catch in the area. Of course, there was no way they could expect that fate had delivered them three...and not in the way they had hoped.

Herself unaware of Mon-el or Spawn alike, Rogue herself actually blinks a little as she tilts her head to look upwards at their direction. Magneto's comment about the thugs in the trucks and she looks back to her fellow mutants before shrugging her shoulders.

"No monsters or thugs are going to stop us from bringing those pizzas back home. Kids are hungry...and so am I. C'mon."

Onwards she steps, all to calm and casually pushing through the door.

Gambit has posed:
Remy LeBeau shrugs a little. "No crime foh playin' Gargoyle, or foh bein' an idiot." He says casually. Though it is worth noting he flexes his wrist to make sure the cards stashed up his sleave are free to fall at the flick of his wrist. He holds the door for the other two mutants to procced him adding "An' by de way, Ah am driving 'ome. Ah make it a personal rule not ta ride in a car wit' someone driving who can't be 'orribly maimed or killed by a car crash."

Spawn has posed:
Standing there, high above, Spawn considers the scene below and the sense of what is to come. His internal struggle might make an interesting article in Telepathic Psychology Weekly. Are bad intentions, without bad actions, by themselves worthy of Hell? Is it even fair to give the "hunters" a stern talking to, just because they want to do bad things and don't care who they do it to? Isn't it just as bad to swoop down there and dig their guts out just because their cruel purpose interrupted Spawn's viewing of a sunset from this vantage point?

Maybe he decided yes or maybe he just remembered that he's already in Hell. Either way, the seven foot tall thing leans casually forward until he falls off the ledge. It's a leisurely move, and just as casually the thing lets itself torpedo toward the ground long enough to pick up speed before the cape expands around it into something like batlike wings. Those catch the wind blowing up the side of the building and level him off, and he glides swiftly toward the pizza place. The shadow sweeping over the ground below probably attracts the attention of some pedestrians, who would look up to see that huge black thing flying on wings that look like wet, flowing blood.

Magneto has posed:
Erik Lehnsherr's gaze remained sharp and focused as he assessed the unfolding situation, a sense of urgency in his demeanor. He turned to Rogue with a wry smile, "Rogue, if pizza delivery is your idea of a local adventure, I must say it's far more perilous than I anticipated." His attention then shifted to Remy, his tone more serious, "Remy, it seems you're the only one here who can't outpace a car."

Mon-El has posed:
    Lar frowns at all those weapons. And zipties and such. This was definitely trouble. He quickly descends from the roof, as fast as he can without causing any sonic booms, and moves to confront the armed group. Presumably they had sinister plans for someone or multiple people in here.

    "Whatever you're planning, it's not worth it." His eyes begin to glow a crimson color, in an attempt to show them what might be coming their way if they don't comply. "I'm giving you once chance to stand down, before I have to start hurting you."

Rogue has posed:
"There should be Remy, there should be..." she muses lightly before moving into the space through the door. "And my drivin' is fine fer the record!"

Of course, whatever plans Rogue might have had, be it actually believing that they might be able to complete their task unmolested, there was a -slight- problem with that: MAGNETO WAS RIGHT THERE! No self-respecting anti-mutant hunter wasn't going to know the man the moment they'd see him...and he wasn't wearing his helmet.

A jingle of the bell, one of them turned while the others moved up to make their order before a startled curse had all the others turning to face them. "What the hell is that freak doing here?!"

Of course as they were going for their weapons? Well, Rogue steps forwards before folding her arms under her bust and stepping forwards. "Alright boys, I'm hungry and y'all are in my way. Why don't you take yourselves elsewhere and pick a different night to be-"

The sound of a gunshot cut through the restaurant and silenced Rogue...but not in the lethal way that particular goon had hoped.

Instead the bullet flattened against her chest right above her heart, causing the woman to look down in disbelief.

"Are you kidding me?! I love this shirt!"

Mon-El's warning? Well, most might find it scary, but ignorance and hate was enough fuel to lump him in with the mutants thanks to those glowing eyes. Despite their lack of success? The others fumble for their weapons, bystanders be damned.

Gambit has posed:
As the gunman raises his weapon, Remy takes a large step back. Now someone, unfamilier with these fine mutants might see stepping behind a woman and a man old enough that his AARP card qualifies for an AARP card as an act of cowardice. Those people likely would not know that one of those individules is invulnerable to Anti-tank weapons and the other is the Master of Magnetism. And in the same motion Remy throws both his fands foreward, cards flying out his sleaves and brushing his fingers. His touch supercharging them with Kinetic energy and turning them fusia before flying two each at the would be attackers.

Magneto has posed:
Erik Lehnsherr's eyes widened in alarm as he witnessed the gunshot pierce Rogue's shirt, his heart racing with a mix of frustration and concern. His mind had been poised, ready to deflect any incoming threats, but in the chaotic moment, he found himself momentarily paralyzed by the need to act precisely, lest he risk inadvertently harming Remy LeBeau in the process. He cursed under his breath, cursing the absurdity of the situation where his own restraint had led to a minor yet painful affront to someone he respected.

As the attackers scrambled, Erik's gaze locked onto them with a cold, measured intensity. "You might want to reconsider your choices before things get worse," he said, his voice a controlled rumble. "We're here to resolve this situation without unnecessary bloodshed, but I assure you, my patience is as limited as your judgment."

His eyes flickered with a glint of menace, but he kept his tone civil, mindful of maintaining an air of diplomacy for Rogue and Remy's sakes. Erik's power rippled subtly around him, ready to unleash if needed, but he maintained his focus on keeping the confrontation contained and respectful, despite the blatant disrespect from the so-called hunters.

Spawn has posed:
Spawn is still in flight when Mon-El zooms past him and rushes into the restaurant. The giant bat-monster, or whatever it is, flaps its wings lazily to drive itself forward. Then the trio of citizens disappears through the door as Spawn approaches the pizza joint's rooftop, and then the gunshot rings out inside at the same moment that the cloak curls around the monster's frame so it can fall onto that rooftop.

That gunshot adds urgency to the situation, though, so instead of a graceful landing on the roof the monster just keeps falling as if the roof isn't even there. Inside, it looks like a ring of green fire erupts in the middle of a drop-ceiling tile, through which emerges feet and legs and torso and finally that white-patterned black head surrounded by the high-standing collar of the cape. The thing impacts the floor with a heavy thud that rattles the windows and knocks over a nearby table, positioned behind the counter and looking at the backs of the bad guys and the faces of everybody else.

At that point, the Hellspawn just stands there shrouded in his cape. Green eyes literally burn in their sockets, smoldering at the scene already unfolded while he was still arriving. It might not be clear how quickly the thing takes everything in, including the energetically charged cards flying at the shooters. So rather than leap over the counter or draw his own guns, Spawn just stands there watching.

Mon-El has posed:
    Truthfully, Lar is worse than a mutant given he isn't even human at all.

    Thankfully it seems the intended targets have their own set of tricks up their sleeves--literally.

    As the rest of the troublemakers fumble clumsily, trying to get out their weapons, the Daxamite sighs. "Well it was worth a try anyway..." he mutters, although honestly he knows that 90%+ of the time they don't do the smart thing. He then proceeds to follow through with the threat of thermal vision, firing it but not quite directly at them. Instead, he targets their weapons, firing at them in succession with the aim of melting them before any of the attackers can start putting them to use.

Rogue has posed:
Reason from Magneto? There's probably a few who might wonder if Hell had just froze over...although Spawn's entry probably didn't suggest as much. Now? Well, opportunities for piece were going to go out the window as surely as the surge of bullets that came towards the mutants, demons and aliens alike.

They'd left their bigger guns in the truck, but there was still enough projectiles now hurling around the space that people were screaming and diving for cover while the scent of gunsmoke and brimstone filled the space.

One never accused the FoH of an abundance of brains, despite the fact that they probably should realise they were more likely to hurt themselves than anyone else in the room.

The flying kineticly charged cards blasted two of the men off their feet, hurling them into the counter behind them while Rogue rushed forwards, one hand lifted to cover her face more for keeping bullet shrapnel out of her eyes than any fear of injury...and to try and offer some cover for the others.

The surge of heat into those guns? Well, most drop them immediately, cutting the amount of bullets fired down dramatically....others held on, but their weaponry? Well, they'd made their rounds with less metal...but their guns? Not so much.

Gambit has posed:
Remy LeBeau, Being the sqishiest meat bag currently on team Good guy, does hold back for a moment, letting the super strong, sperfast, near invulnerable and most importantly royally pissed off Southern Belle take point. Unlike movies, fire fights like this rarly last more then a minute... but when they are this mismatched they don't usually even make it much past the first few seconds. Remy drops more cards int his hands, advancing on the two men he incapacitated... and because he is an X-man damnit, checks to see if they need medical attention. Only then does he glance at his ...his... His It's Complicated and say, "Jus' so yah know chere... yah bra strap is showing.." Gesturing to her nearly completely obliterated t-shirt that is providing a bit more fan service then just a bra strap but still...

Spawn has posed:
The hail of bullets was unexpected. The lightning flashes of heat-ray vision from Mon-El was equally unexpected! When Spawn dropped into the restaurant it had appeared like everything was under control. Now people are endangered, and at least Rogue would be dead if the woman wasn't as dense as Spawn's own body armor.

Worse, nobody's doing the right thing. The laser eye beams hit the guns, not the perps. The tough chick is charging forward, bare-handed. So, naturally, Spawn's cape flutters open as if thrown but the humanoid giant inside it still stands there with his arms at his sides. From the inner lining of the living-blood cape itself, a single black chain darts out and snakes its way toward the last remaining shooter's skull.

If Spawn took any fire, the thing doesn't seem to have noticed. If he was hit, the slugs were stopped dead by his black leathery armor. In a moment, the armor will pucker back into shape so the slugs hit the floor with anti-climactically dull little rattles.

Magneto has posed:
As Magneto took in the chaos unfolding around him, his usually calm demeanor shifted to a controlled, precise anger. He moved with deliberate intent, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the attackers scrambling in their desperate efforts. The scene inside the pizza place had deteriorated rapidly: bullets flew, heat rays lashed out, and the once-innocuous restaurant had become a battleground.

With a swift, fluid motion, Erik's power surged into action. Metal responded to his will with unsettling obedience. He reached out with his mind, bending the barrels of the guns held by the remaining attackers until they were twisted and useless. Watches, wristbands, and even the metal connections of their belts groaned and buckled under his control, constricting painfully and forcing the attackers into unnatural positions. He tightened metal belts until they bit into the flesh of their wearers, rendering them incapable of reaching for additional weapons or even thinking straight. Keys, phones, and any other metallic items on their bodies were yanked from their places, propelled into the walls or floors with violent force. The scene around him became a whirlwind of clattering metal and groaning assailants.

Erik's gaze was unyielding as he observed the thrashing attackers pinned against the walls and floor. He stepped forward, his voice a low, dangerous murmur that cut through the cacophony of gunfire and shouting. "You're here to cause chaos, to inflict harm, and to disrespect those who only sought a peaceful moment. You have been given a chance to leave, and instead, you chose violence."

He turned his gaze to Rogue and Remy, his tone shifting to a colder edge of authority. "The question now is not what to do with these individuals, but whether they should be allowed to live with the consequences of their actions." His eyes, dark and resolute, flicked between them. "Shall we show them mercy, or shall we make it clear that such aggression will not be tolerated? The choice is yours." His words carried a weight of finality, a potent mix of threat and responsibility, reflecting both his anger and his respect for their judgment. Their lives were now held in the balance of the two X-Men.

Mon-El has posed:
    With the weapons taken care of, Lar turns his focus toward making sure any other innocent bystanders are safe from harm, helping evacuate anyone who might need it. By the time he returns to the scene, the perpetrators are incapacitated and Magneto is asking whether they should be killed or not...

    To him, the answer is fairly obvious.

    "If we kill defenseless sentients, we are just as corrupted as they are." he points out. "Keep them here, and let the responsible authorities deal with them in accordance with local laws." Never mind that Lensherr wasn't exactly asking him. But there is an...edge to his voice that says if anyone tries to go against this, they might have yet -another- conflict on their hands...

Rogue has posed:
The sound of a man being hurled over the counter and into the elevated plastic menu display behind them...well, that announced Rogue's dissatisfaction with the FoH's actions. But it was brief and the entire exchange was over in seconds between the mutants, 'Monsters' and aliens alike. Finally, Rogue actually turned to face Spawn...because she too had figured Mon-El was a mutant, but the Demon? Well...either he was some sort of critter or a hero who'd crossed the line with costume into fetishist territory.

"Thanks but...who are you supposed t'be?"

Of course, she doesn't quite wait for the answer, because Remy was quick to point out her ballisticly aquired state of undress.

"Ah dammit!" One crossing of her arms later to preserve her modesty and salvage her dignity, she did lift her gaze towards Magneto and his question. "Last I checked, shooting at people was still illegal an' I'm fairly sure they're callin' the cops right now. Downside is...I don't think we're gettin' Pizza from here."

Sure enough, Rogue was already considering they probably needed to leave before the police arrived.

"Maybe we find somewhere else or...I dunno, Thai food? Burgers? They'll be fine with burgers, right?"

Gambit has posed:
Remy LeBeau has killed in the past. He's murdered too. Once upon a time he'd even intended to spend his life married to one of the deadliest assassins in the world. But then...

Spawn might see the image, if no one else does. A little girl with bones growing out of her skin at every angle clutching Remy as the Cajun himself tried to keep his insides from spilling to his outside, hold the child and run from the horrific slaughter...a slaughter of lambs he himself lead the wolves to...~

Remy stands and shakes his head at Magneto. "We X-Men. We don' kill." He says taking off his duster and handing it to Rogue to cover herself better. "An' Thai nevah spicy enough..." he adds as though the side tanget was just as important...

Magneto has posed:
As Magneto stood amidst the wreckage of the pizza place, the tension in the air was palpable. His face was a mask of controlled fury, his eyes cold and calculating as he surveyed the scene. He had been prepared to act decisively, but the arrival of Lar's principled stance and Rogue's frustration gave him pause. He listened with an increasingly tight jaw as Lar spoke about the moral implications of killing defenseless individuals, a sentiment echoed by Rogue's practical assessment of their situation.

When Remy spoke, aligning himself with the X-Men's code against killing, Erik's expression hardened slightly. He took a breath, his voice steady but imbued with an edge of steel. "I am not," he said pointedly, his gaze locking onto Remy, "one of the X-Men. My methods and principles are my own, and they are shaped by different circumstances." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing. "However, I am a visitor here, and will acquiesce to your wishes on this matter." His tone softened slightly as he glanced around at the destruction and the subdued attackers.

Magneto's hands moved with deliberate care, his magnetic powers retracting the twisted metal he had bent into place, allowing the attackers to drop to the ground in an undignified heap. He could feel the satisfaction of asserting control, but he tempered his actions with an awareness of the broader implications. The thought of leaving these individuals to face justice through local authorities was a concession he was willing to make, albeit with a palpable sense of frustration.

Spawn has posed:
Whether Spawn's chain found its mark in that last guy's head before Rogue hit him and Magneto grabbed hold of him by his magnetic accoutrements, the monster simply lets the appendage retract and then his cape settles around him again. Rogue gives him a look and demands information which he makes no attempt to provide. She only gets those glowing green eyes, with flame where the lids should be and smoke at the corners, affixed on her from the featureless face wearing a mask painted to look like rage.

The Hellspawn stands there until Rogue's attention turns away from him, and in the instant that she isn't looking he phases out of sight. Invisible, it walks right through the counter and then walks right through Rogue on its way to the front door.

As the now unseen thing passes Remy LeBeau, suddenly struck with a sense of horror and guilt, it broadcasts a short auditory hallucination only for the Cajun: "You didn't do that deliberately, did you?" The hallucinated voice is a deep, smooth bass.

Mon-El has posed:
    "Lar Gand." Lar answers when Rogue asks that. He sticks out a hand for a shake with that introduction. "I can stay and talk to the police if you'd rather not." he offers.

    He eyes Magneto's reluctance to relent to everyone else's wishes at the moment, but it seems he has chosen to do the smart thing and leave it be.