[center][img]http://www.austinbooks.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/x-men.png[/img][/center][indent][sub][color=ffff00][b]SEASON ONE:[/b][/color][color=#1C86EE] GODS AMONG MEN[/color][/sub][sup][right][b][color=ffff00]INFAMY #2:[/color][/b] [color=#1C86EE]MIDDAY MAYHEM[/color][/right][/sup][/indent][hr][indent][color=ffff00][sub][b]Lower Manhattan [color=#1C86EE]♦[/color] New York City, New York[/b][/sub][/color][sup][right][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0EnrFe3Zb6k][b][color=ffff00]Theme:[/color][/b] [color=#1C86EE]Human[/color][/url][/right][/sup][/indent] [indent] The X-Men might not have a private jet or a veritable tank to cart them around the city, but they [i]did[/i] have a van. Hank had tricked out the cargo portion of the vehicle into a pseudo mobile command center, featuring everything from full communications suite to an HD monitor, computer and it's own dedicated WiFi hotspot. They'd even modified it by sliding armored plating into the van's frame, switching out the tires for something nearly indestructible and replacing the glass with a bulletproof variant. It was practically a fortress on wheels. If it wasn't, they couldn't have plowed through their second police barricade on their way toward Central Park. "Would you be careful?!" Bobby shouted, gripping the seat in front of him as the entire van lurched and sputtered after the sudden and violent impact. More than a few cops had to stumble and leap out of the way of the oncoming vehicle to avoid being crushed underneath it's monstrous tires. Jean let out an exhilarated whoop, her foot only pressing down harder on the pedal. Scott had been forbade by the Professor from driving after he'd wrecked the convertible not so long ago, leaving the only other person on the team with a license behind the wheel. Under normal circumstances it might've been fine, but this- None of this was normal. "Vere all going to die." Kurt lamented, shrinking into as tight a ball as possible. They'd planned on crossing the Lincoln tunnels to get over to Manhattan, but all of them were clogged up with people trying to get [i]out[/i]. From what they heard from police chatter the bridges up north were having equal trouble, and the Holland tunnels were only sporadically guarded. It'd been easy enough to punch through; dodging through traffic and past terrified bystanders had been a [i]little[/i] more nerve wracking. Scott shot a glare over at Jean, though he kept his tongue, too busy trying to dial Spider-Man as they raced closer and closer to the center of the storm. "Come on, Pete, pick up." He muttered. Not a tone later, it clicked, and the vigilante's voice sounded with a spurt of static. Something was disrupting the radio frequencies, but thankfully calls were still getting through. "This is TGI Spidey's, may I take your order?" "We're almost at Central Park. How're you holding up?" "I'm -- [i]Hey! We're not holding a kegger down here![/i] -- Sorry, sorry. I'm near Murray Hill, seeing what's to see from the Empire State. There's a [i]lot[/i] of party guests out here, I don't think I brought enough hng goodie bags for everyone." Cyclops grimaced at the sound of Spidey's struggles. He'd only seen the chaos very briefly on the broadcast- he couldn't imagine the reality of it that Peter was currently faced with. It wouldn't be long before he got to see it for himself. "Alright, we'll swing down that way to help you out! Just hold on, we'll be there in fifteen, alright?" "Meet you by Herald Square. Til' then I got a date with the tourist patrol." Spider-Man ended the call and Summers slipped the phone into one of the storage pouches on his costume, glancing around at the rest of the team. Nobody was holding up too well, not that he could blame them. Kurt and Bobby both looked like they were on the verge of having a panic attack. Hank had dived as deep as he could into his work, those large, cumbersome headphones slipped over his head as he tried to pinpoint where exactly the swarm was at any given moment. He had multiple police scanners running and a digital map in front of him. Jean was always good at hiding how she really felt- much to Scott's chagrin. She had a grin on her face that didn't extend to her eyes as she guided them through the streets. It looked like Manhattan had been turned into a war zone. They passed by dozens and dozens of fleeing people, both on foot and packed inside of cars of their own. Many of them were bloodied and limping, some carrying improvised weapons they'd been forced to use against their neighbors and fellow man. Summers felt sick just looking at it. And angry. [i]Very[/i] angry. "Eyes up, gang, we've got company!" Jean called out, her hands wrapping tighter around the steering wheel as they rounded the corner and came face to face with a violent brawl that stretched across the street. There were around thirty of them from what Scott could see. Some of them were actively tearing into each other with anything they had available- glass, teeth, hands- anything they could use to hurt one another. Others were attempting to escape the mob, apparently having escaped the swarm when it came through here earlier, and still others lay unmoving not far from the brawl, either too wounded to move or...worse. Nobody had to say anything. Jean brought the van to an abrupt halt, every seat belt clicking in near unison as the squad piled out of the van. Almost as soon as their boots touched the concrete all attention shifted toward them, their programming adjusting it's parameters to match the changing conditions and the arrival of priority Metahuman targets. The X-Men stacked up in front of their vehicle, shoulder to shoulder, their [url=https://i.imgur.com/OcdfHsW.jpg]armored uniforms[/url] shining in the mid-morning sun. Bright yellow armor set over an eye-catching blue, their team's identity proudly displayed by the black [i]X[/i] that dominated the breastplate. They cut an imposing figure, especially when compared to the glorified rags they used to run around in. If only there was anyone sane enough to appreciate it around. The horde charged them, bloodcurdling screams echoing between the devastated streets of Manhattan. Their former victims- those that could still move, anyway- used the opportunity of the infected turning their attention on the X-Men to flee the scene, leaving one less thing for the heroes to worry about. "Try not to hurt them!" Scott shouted over the cacophony. "Restrain the ones you can and knock out the rest." Jean opened up first, stepping forward with her gloved palms clutched together, only to throw them out to either side and send a wave of telekinetic energy crashing against the flood of flesh and blood. The first line of the mob was thrown backward into the second, causing a chaotic cascading effect that brought the charge to a grinding halt. The black and green varsity jacket she wore over her costume fluttered as it caught the backblast. It was Bobby's turn to step up, the sleeveless variant of his uniform allowing him to easily form the ice over his arms and hands that he needed to follow-up on Marvel Girl's opener. He gave none of his usual attempts at banter as he splayed his fingers out and let a cone of frost pour out from him. It rapidly froze over the downed infected, encasing much of their bodies in ice and restraining all movement, leaving only their heads free so they could still breathe. "Nice work, guys-" Summers started, only for his mouth to be filled with the taste of another man's knuckles. The combined attacks had only stifled the rushing mob, not stopped it, and Scott carelessly let himself get caught off guard from the side. He was quick to grab the infected's other arm and throw it around his back, giving him a solid enough wallop aside the skull to knock him out cold. His old visor had made it so Scott could never use his powers on any [i]people[/i] without risking their deaths, all but requiring that he learn how to fight if he wanted to be useful to the team. Hank insisted the visor's new settings would allow for more restrained, precise fire, but... "Zhere are more coming from up ahead!" Kurt warned, causing Scott to snap back into reality. "At least a dozen or so!" "Great." Summers grumbled. "Nightcrawler, I need you to go on ahead to Herald Square without us!" "Vhat, alone?! Vhy?!" Kurt froze, terrified at the prospect of splitting up. "It sounded like Spider-Man needed help, and you're the fastest one here!" Cyclops shouted, midway between punching the lights out of a pair of tourists-turned-zombies. "No time to argue, Night, you gotta go!" Nightcrawler leaped over the heads of a group of sprinting maniacs trying to tear him to shreds, landing with the grace of a dancer on the other side. Black smoke enveloped his fur-covered body, and he found himself all the way at the end of the street and looking out over the growing brawl from a distance. "[i]Auweh[/i], you vill be the death of me, Scott Summers." He muttered. "Zis is vhat I get for leaving ze house, I suppose." [/indent]