trans_9 | Whodunnit?

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Whodunnit?

It was time to get a little more organized, share some information with each other. She had a talk with that bigface kid, Jaime, to see if he could do anything to shield them from Stacy's prying eyes and he said he had a few ideas, so a meeting place was chosen, and it was time to gather.

Cybil had a good authoritative, shouting voice.

"Everyone, listen up! We're meeting down in the city near that big tree. Grab whoever you see and get down there."

Indeed they were. People were starting to gather there.

[ooc: Instead of little subthreads, everyone post in one thread as people arrive. Try to keep the convo general, like everyone talking to each other, instead of devolving into private conversations.]

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"Grow up, or shut up. Or both, preferrably." Vincent snapped at Connor. he had seen worse than what had happened to Hudson.

Heck, Vincent had committed worse than what had happened to Hudson; but he was going to make damned sure it didn't happen to any potential ~~minions~~ assets in the area.

He crouched by the remains and started prodding at what was left of the skull cavity, trying to pick up the aural residue of the last thing Hudson had seen.

Tim tilted his head, glancing up at Kon and waiting for him to tell them what he heard. Something distant, probably, or he wouldn't have asked for silence here so he could focus.

He glanced quickly at the body, and shook his head a little. Not remotely the worst thing he'd seen--he fought crime in one of the most depraved cities in the country after all--but... it wasn't pretty either.

Gasping upon seeing the mangled body, Lyta felt her heart jump up into her throat and instinctively seized hold of Ax's hand, gripping it firmly. With what had happened to this guy, she didn't know if it was because she was trying to keep him close so she could protect him, or so he could protect her.

First sign of trouble, we find a place for you to change, she said to him telepathically.

Ow. He always forgot how strong the human hand was.

Ax didn't wince at Lyta's grip however, and he twisted his neck to look behind them, in case whatever had mauled the other crew member was still nearby.

< Of course, > he answered Lyta's telepathic declaration, wondering if he would have enough time to demorph and then morph something else to put off a confrontation with any Controllers.

...Probably not. And even if he did, he was most used to his own Andalite body for fights. Whatever had done this, he wanted to be at his very best to fight it.

Kon suddenly turned his head towards the opening of an alleyway.

"Something's crying. Over there. A little kid."

"It might be a mimic," Wednesday warns. "Be careful."

Nathan had flown up after Kon, and had waited for his response.

"Could be anything. How far you figure?" Figuring even flying shouldn't be alone either.

"It ain't a mimic. These ears don't lie. Kinda hit the genetic lottery as far as, oh, most of me goes."

He flew over to an alley way. "It's only right over--here. Just...quiet."

Like they barely had any breath.

...Hoshit. There was a trail of blood into the alley.

A cloaked figure, crouched down all small, curled in the corner away from them, crying and hunched as if it was hurt. The blood certainly suggested it.

It sounded like most crying children sounded.

It shrank away from Kon, as he came closer, crouching down slightly.

"Hey. Hey, it's okay. We're not gonna hurt you, okay? We're the good guys."

There was that smell again. That rotting smell...

Toxin yanked control away from Pat as soon as he noticed the blood trail, quickly making his way up to the front of the group, goaded on by the scent of rot. The crying was new, but as for the scent...

Jaime's hand thrummed and the scarab twittered an alert.

"What do you mean that bug-thing from before is nearby?"

...Oh.

Oh God.

He launched himself forward. "Superboy, get away from it!"

"What? It's just a--"

It moved faster than even he could react. Suddenly looming up to its full height, the wings--that looked like a cloak--sweeping back, the plates that covered its eyes, looking deceptively like a face retracting.

It had been freed from a place by accident. It had laid the eggs it'd had before it as put in stasis.

They had watched them. They had learned how to imitate them. They had adapted.

Photobucket

The Judas cockroach screeched and spat gunk all over Kon before he had a chance to react.

"--kid. Not a kid!"

Then he was spewed on, and it got in his eyes. Which was gross but practically noth--augh!

It hurt! It actually hurt! It was burning!

"AAAAUUUUGH!"

He screamed, and fell back, out of the alley, into their view, hands trying to wipe the stuff off of his face.

"HOLY CRAP!" Paco shouted, lunging between the monster death-roach and Kate. She could shoot it full of arrows from behind him.

"I told you!" Wednesday roars, rushing forward to pull Kon bodily backwards by the scruff of his suit. For such an old man, he's a strong one... well, maybe it's just the adrenalin of the situation. "Someone get water, now, I don't care if you have to use your shirt to carry it!"

Rapidly moving his way to the front of the crowd, Sam snatched the flask of holy water that he'd collected from the replica of the Vatican and tossed it to the old man. "There," he barked at Wednesday, before aiming his gun at the ginormous bug and opening fire.

Everyone was focused on the giant cockroach, which was good because it meant that they didn't see Ax bolting in the opposite direction and diving behind the nearest building to demorph.

He told himself that he wasn't running from a fight, that the others were capable of holding the giant cockroach off while he demorphed so that he could help them.

It didn't make him feel much better.

"Sam, move back some, you're--"

She'd looked up and around, instinctually.

"There's more of them!"

She started firing on the one that she spotted on the top of a building nearby.

"Get Super-tights cleaned up, then get him on his feet or carry him--we need to fall back to a better position. With Hudson dead, there's no reason to be here."

Sam continued firing until he heard the familiar 'click' sound that told him his clip was empty. With no time to reload--at least without risking getting goop in the face like the kid had--he grabbed the machete that was slung on his back and started hacking at the bug's legs.

"St. Peter's Square," he shouted to Cybil. Vatican City had been constructed as a fortress, a means to protect the Pope from attack. It seemed the most logical place to retreat to.

Wednesday dumps out the flask on the kid's face, not caring much about it being holy water—not that he can't tell, of course. And all this one-handed... he's still holding that scimitar as he grunts to pull Kon to his feet, if the boy can stand.

Kon was trying to stand. There was that whole blind, burning thing going on.

"Don't--touch. If it--nnngh--hurts me--then it'll take--your fingers off."

His face did not look pretty when he pulled his hands away. It wasn't melted off or anything, like most people's faces would've been, but his eyes were tearing like crazy and his eyelids were puffy. There were even blisters.

He looked like the average person did when pepper sprayed.

"Rob! Bat-acid neutralizer--something. You gotta have something."

It wasn't all off his face.

The bug screeched and fell back from Sam's assault, quickly, scurrying away and vaulting onto the roof of a building.

So did the one Cybil was fighting. This did not mean they could let their guard down.

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