Ghouls in Central Park

March 6, 2014: Logan and Illyana take a walk through the park and stumble across Dana. And so does TJ.

Central Park, NYC

It's a big park, full of people!



  • None;

Mood Music:

Dana Hunt is having a very bad day. At this precise moment, she is curled up in a small ball in front of the Eagles and Prey statue, dead set in the middle of the southern half of the park, jamming the backs of her fists into her scrunched closed eyes. She is trembling, though not from the cold of the remnants of snow that surround her body. Rather, it is the severity of the vision that has ripped through her skull and threatens, even now, to rip her from what poor excuse for consciousness she has left. She is curled around her messenger bag, in a fetal position, her white dog standing in front of her, growling to keep concerned passers by at bay.

Her clothing is too nice for most people to label her a junkie, though, really, the fact there are unbidden tears streaming down her face and her jaw is clenched tightly enough to risk breaking teeth, it's small wonder they don't. Then, of course, there's that dog… That dog is just not letting anyone near her. Nevertheless, a small crowd gathers.

Throughout the rest of the park, however, it's business as usual.

In the city on some business or other, Logan stopped by to visit his favorite russian half-demon sorceress. Out for a walk through the park, the old canuck is wearing jeans and a leather jacket while conversing with his blonde companion, "You're missing all the fun we're havin' back at the mansion still, Illyana. Got myself blown up the other day while playing security at some fundraiser for mutants."

Hands stuffed into his pockets, Logan glances aside to the blonde as they walk, "Limbo givin' you any trouble lately?" And that's when the feral man takes note of the small crowd ahead of them, and the dog. Grunting, the mutant frowns and murmurs aside to Illyana, "Think I know that dog, let's go take a look at what's goin' on, eh?" As they continue closer, a few sniffs has Logan growling, "Yeah, know the dog and the owner, c'mon." The canucklehead's steps take on a quickened pace towards the crowd.

Illyana's leather jacket isn't the broken-in worn thing that's probably older than she is like Logan's, and it's a lot more heavy metal than Canadian Cowboy. The black leather is decorated in spikes and studs with a few thin chains. Her boots work well with the jacket, heavy soles with the buckles climbing all the way to her knees and accented in silver skulls and flame motif. Her blonde hair is left loose and with those heels? She's got nearly a half-foot on Logan. "I don't enjoy getting blown up like you do." She says dryly, a smirk playing over her lips while her hands are shoved into her pockets as well.

"I'd say it's infected, but well, the infection is me." Illyana says with a soft exhale. "The edges are starting to die. Going back to how it was. Inevitable I suppose." When he calls attention to what's going on ahead she goes up on her toes a bit, frowning, and then lengthens her stride to catch up with Logan. "I swear, we find your friends in the weirdest places. Now you're friends with dogs." She jokes.

The dog knows Logan. The dog trusts Logan — more than he does anyone else currently present. He's not properly met either Illyana or TJ, after all, certainly not more than once and in passing, each. (And, to be fair, when he met Illyana he looked a good half-a-size-again bigger and meaner than he does now. Right now, he still resembles a shaggy white shepherd, instead of red-eared faerie hellhound.) But Dana, he understands, has accepted the feral mutant that smells of acrid metal, cigar smoke, and other such things. Thus, when he scents the man's approach, his head comes up alertly.

Dana grinds the heels of her hands into her eyes now. Her breath comes in ragged pants, not quite sobs, but harsh, nonetheless. "Go!" she says to the people nearest her, struggling to roll onto her knees — well, elbows and knees, really. "Please… go! You have to… get out of here!"

The hound circles around in front of her, warning people who would otherwise reach out to touch her, perhaps to help her up, away. It's only when Logan pushes through the crowd that he whines instead of growls, moving to let him through, when he'll let no one else.

Any further questions about Limbo are put on pause for the moment, though they're definitely there after the Russian woman's responses. Grunting at his blonde companion's remarks, Logan offers dryly, "Live as long as me, you meet a lot of folks, Illyana. Let's see what's up…"

Continuing closer, Logan pushes his way through the small crowd none too gently, making room for Illy to follow him if she wants. The old man nods to the dog before settling eyes on Dana. Jogging the last couple steps, the feral man crouches down, reaching for Dana's shoulder to stop her from rolling around, "Dana, th'hell is goin' on? You need a doctor or is this something else?"

Watching the the half-fae woman for a few heartbeats, Wolverine tilts his head to growl at the people standing around, "Get out of here, folks. This ain't a show. She needs a doc, we'll get her to one." After that, he looks back to Illyana, "'Yana, you know more about magic shit, c'mere."

When the people Logan rudely pushes away round on him to tell him what-for they're met by blue eyes as cold and hard as Siberian winters. It doesn't matter that Illyana looks like she's in her early twenties, the eyes rattle even stalwart souls. Must be that hole in her own.

As they get closer, Illyana's attention narrows to the woman and her dog, the blonde's thumb rubbing against the pads of her fingers with her left hand as the presence of magic makes her Soulsword itch to come out. Any need to warn Logan about is derailed when he brings it up though. The dog is given a respectful berth, not knowing what it might do as Illyana comes down to one knee next to Logan and peers at Dana. "What did you find, old man." She murmurs to herself, Dana's magic oddly familiar, but Illyana can't quite remember why.

Strength of character comes from within. Talia's seen way too many individuals of varying gifts hide from the world at large because they simply do not fit in. Regardless of the reality, she's refused to let her appearance define the rest of her existence in a negative fashion.

Central Park? No problem!

There's looks and stares aplenty, though unlike so many of the other oddly shaped or colored people the common folk are likely to bump into, this is one of the very few that simply acts like a normal, happy, early twenties woman. In her world, nothing seems amiss at all.

Up until she notices the crowd that's formed around a crying girl, anyway. Fearing the worst she quickens her pace, covering the last bit of distance with a silent leap up onto the top of a nearby statue.

Isn't that the same girl and dog from the tavern..? Regardless, that -is- the same Logan that she's gotten to become familiar with.

From her vantage point, yellow eyes stare onward. Was she hurt..? Had there been a fight? With another silent leap she clears the heads of the bystanders and lands in a low crouch, now adding herself into the ring of protection around Dana, as it is. Reinforcements have arrived.

"Wandering Wagner to Home Team, what's our status?"

"Logan?" Dana's voice breaks harshly. She pulls her hands away from her eyes, looking up wildly in the direction from which she heard his voice. Her eyes are silver, instead of hazel, pupils, irises, and sclera all. There's no telling if she really focusses her gaze on him or not. Likely not, given how she blinks and how badly her eyes are watering. "Logan!" Nevertheless, her hands come out and grasp him, holding onto him fiercely as she speaks. "You have to evacuate the park," she pants. "Do it now. Death is… Death is coming… coming here… to this place. Quickly!"

Her father's a psychopomp. Death resonates with her. And she hates that. A lot.

The dog tolerates Illyana solely because Logan does — and because the last time they met she and Dana showed no aggression to one another. Too, he wants to keep those others at bay. But that doesn't mean he likes having strangers so close to his mistress. Not at all.

His head swings around, in fact, as the blue figure alights atop the eagles hovering over Dana's head. He lets out a gruff bark and a growl, ears falling back at the look of that tail and those glowing eyes…

The old Canucklehead doesn't resist Dana's grasping hands, and in fact the feral man leans down further and tries to scoop the watery-eyed half-fae woman up off the ground with both arms. "Hate to tell you this, hon', but evacuating central park is easier said than done."

Looking aside to Illyana, Logan starts to ask something before Talia's voice interjects and his eyes snap towards her, "Dunno, TJ. Think there's some magic business afoot." There's a pause and then he wonders of both the female mutants, "Will you two do me a favor and get this $&!(#*! crowd out of here though?" The old mutant growls at aforementioned gathering of people around them.

Back to the blonde Russian again, the hairy mutant grunts, "You got any idea what's going on, Illyana?" Then he looks down at the half-fae woman, "Dana, can you hear? I need to know what's happenin'."

"Premonitions aren't my thing, Logan. You want me to divine the future I'm gonna have to sacrifice at least a goat." Illyana's joking, right? Sometimes her humor's a bit macabre. "The whole damned park might be a bit rough, but I think I can get you some breathing room." Illyana says as she turns to the crowd and raises her hands, palms-out. They're all busy staring slack-jawed at TJ. Wagner's. They're a great distraction. A Stepping Disk suddenly flares wide perpendicular to the ground just in front of Illyana's hands. She mimes a 'push' and the whole thing rushes away from her, swallowing the crowd and then winking out. Looking over at Logan she advises, "Slap her."

"Okaaay, the status is that I am apparently not trusted," Talia slowly answers herself while turning to look back at the less than pleased dog. "Easy there, Buster. I'm on your side, and I've -never- gone by the name 'Death' before."

Oh dear.

The Snikter's request is a simple one, in theory. There's two ways for one like her to attempt to clear the crowd. As a person, which might get her ignored or worse, or as something decidedly not human, which is just plain bad for business.

"Alright! Anyone here that is not currently in possession of a goat needs to eva—cuate..the…"

TJ's shoulders relax slightly, turning back to the smaller group with a slight grin. "That was surprisingly easy. Waitwait—slap -who- now? I'm preeetty sure that no one needs slapping, here."

Even as Logan scoops her up, Dana struggles to get her feet under her. The dog braces himself against her knees. "It's big," she gasps, even as the ground starts to shake, "and black and… YEAHGH!" She throws her hands up protectively over her head and green witchlight flares all around as a dome of a shield forms around all four them just about the time the leylines through the park flash visibly for a heartbeat and the ground erupts with geysers of dirt and ash and smoke. The scrupulously manicured, snow-covered lawns are instantly destroyed and dark shadow forms over the lower third of the park, over where the four stand. Amidst blackened soil and ruptured ice stand hairless, humanoid creatures with red eyes and long-clawed hands. Above, in the unnatural dark, other forms ripple into view. A black, winged Thing slams into the shield and bounces away, airborne once more.

And the word to come out of Dana's mouth in response is a short, vicious expletive that more or less encapsulates everything that needs to be said about that.

"Sacrificing goats ain't on the list right now," Logan mutters in response to Illyana. Grunting as Dana tries to stand, the canuck still works to support her, "Something's coming, folks, be on your toes," he calls towards Illy and TJ. "We'll handle it. Can you stand?" The latter bit is murmured to the half-fae witch before the crowd is disappeared and things start going crazy.

Turning as the dome flares around them and the ground outside erupts, Logan growls. "The hell is happening?" Noticing the creatures outside the shield, the old Canuck scowls and there's the dual echo of *SNIKT* as adamantium-covered claws pop from both hands, "We got company, folks. Be careful."

The airborne thing slamming into the shield is enough to distract the old mutant from squinting at the humanoid figures on the ground and he calls, "'Yana, TJ, watch yourselves girls. Dana, I think you can drop the shield, hon." Looking aside at the dog the old man grunts, "Keep them away from her, eh?"

"I find when people are getting hysterical that slapping them shocks them long enough to spit it out." Illyana says to TJ with a shrug, not looking sorry at all for suggesting it.

As the ground starts to buck and roll, Illyana's eyes narrow and in a flash her Soulsword appears in her left hand. "Well. Looks like it's a party." She says in a deadpan even as her cold blue eyes sweep around them to get a good idea of the numbers they're up against and where they're located. "Teej, can you handle the flyer?" Then she gestures to Logan with her right hand, fingers spread wide. White light flares, dressing Logan in his working togs. "I've got the ground." Another stepping disk and Illyana teleports out.

Just what the heck is going on here, anyway? Does -anyone- know? TJ sure doesn't! Her understanding of the situation remains as unclear as ever as nasty looking things start to teleport in around them all.

There's a reflexive flinch when the winged thing rams into a barrier around them, turning to look at the few remaining individuals with wide, solid hued eyes. "I had nothing to do with this, I know nothing of these things…"

Illyana's here, she's good with that paranormal stuff, right? Logan's here, he's good at standing the line with nasty clawed beasties. As it turns out, she's of the same mind here as Illy is. "I'm on it!" she calls out, seeing if she can't jump back onto one of those statues so long as the shield is in place. Pounce, blast, possess, teleport, whatever it takes!

The shield winks out of existence as Dana leans herself on the hound, pushing away from Logan. As the fighting begins in earnest, and screams can be heard in the distance, her eyes cease to glow, a growl to echo her hound's deep in the back of her throat. "Go," she tells the feral mutant gruffly, ignoring the others as they turn to fight — trusting them to do what they do best (whatever that may be). "I'll be fine, now…"

Her left fist clenches and a ripple of shadow and twilight surround her and solidify into the dark and ruddy runic armour Illyana would recognize from the first time they met. The dog lets out a chilling howl, swelling in size, his ears and muzzle staining with red. "Hunt," she commands him, her voice darker, fiercer. "Kill. Go!"

Okay. She's not winning the Miss Congeniality award, here.

The black flyer circles around for a second attack, sweeping in low with claws extended, heading straight for the center of the group. The white, ghoulish creatures move with remarkable speed, as well. These are not shambling undead. They are something else again, with purpose and direction. They spread throughout the lower park, seeking prey… which means some of them turn towards the center of magic and challenge presented by the mutants and the witch.

The Cwn Annwn leaps forward, going for the throat of the nearest of the white things as Rune pulls a rod the length of her forearm from the bag at her hip. It's tip begins to glow with focus. There's nothing better for clearing away mind-blowing visions than actually having them erupt in the flesh, so to speak.

There's a grunt of surprise from Logan as he's washed in white light and suddenly in what passes for his 'costume'. The old man knows Illyana and TJ can take care of themselves, to some degree anyways. And he thinks Dana can, when she's not crumpled up on the ground, anyways. And there's the jumbo-sized dog to help.

Which leaves old Wolverine to do what he does best, lunging forward towards the nearest ghouly ghouls, adamantium claws swiping through the air and most likely parting body parts almost as easily as air.

While dealing with the closest handful of creatures, Logan calls, "One of you girls needs help, say the word!"

Illyana's White Magic that she can use here on Earth is paltry compared to the Black Magik she has access to in Limbo, but sometimes all it takes is some subtlety. The crowd that had gathered, Illyana dumped outside of the park given Dana's freak-out about things but there's still a hell of a lot of people under this dark cloud.

When Illyana reappears, she's in her white tunic and hooded cloak and out of sight. At one corner of the disturbance. Sword in-hand and bleeding white eldritch fire she goes down to one knee while words of magic tumble from her lips. Like her sword, she too starts to glow and she traces a symbol on the ground. And then she's gone. She marks out five points around the area touched by the dark cloud and at the end with a whispered word like a flame touched to a fuse Magic runs from point to point and then circumscribes the whole thing in a huge pentagram as the spell snaps into place. The force of it is enough to make Illyana stagger, falling to her knees and using her sword like a damned cane to hold herself up somewhat.

The spell is subtle, pushing supernatural creatures *away*. Away from the edges of the park and hopefully deeper within where a certain X-Ginsu is. It's not strong enough to stop any with a strong enough will to push through, but hopefully it will help to keep them contained.

Okay, what the heck..! Now the gal -and- the dog from the Silveroak don't appear to be what they once were! "It's kinda scary when -I'm- the only one that is as I appear to be," Talia mutters to herself as she keeps her focus primarily upon the winged critter.

As it begins to come in for a second attack, golden eyes narrow to slits as something of a dainty fanged grin falls into place. Two hex-bolts are prepped and an exit leap to safety is mapped out. For a moment she appears ready to say something before her expression completely flatlines. "Yeah, I've got nothin.'"



Yeah, everyone else is just easier to disguise, is all…

As the flyer comes into range, it's fairly easy for someone as agile and nibble as TJ to hop aboard, should she wish. And the thing is large enough that it's harder to miss than it is to hit. The real question will be in whether or not it actually feels those hits. Magic? Yeah… chances are good it'll feel that.

Ignoring TJ, it begins to twist to follow Rune as the woman begins sprinting on the heels of her racing hound. The witch feels Magik's spell snap into place and feels its tug. "Nice…" she says softly, closing on one of the creatures, rod in her left hand, a glowing sword appearing in her right. The sword defends her in close quarters, but the rod enables her to channel eldritch energy at her foes far more effectively. Thus, shortly, everyone's more or less engaged in the fight.

There are mundanes to be saved and monsters to be slain… and it appears there's a certain clock ticking overhead, since whenever a white creature grabs hold of a human being they proceed to pull them down into the Earth… though just to where is a mystery.

Sparring glances towards his companions as he goes to work, Wolverine takes a few cuts from the clawed ghoulish creatures as he moves through them. His costume shows the damage more than he does however, cuts in his flesh starting to knit back together as soon as they occur and drawing little more than small grunts from the man with the impacts. One creature loses an arm, then the other, and finally a leg, the canucklehead leaving it to topple to the ground as he whirls towards the next, lopping off its head.

Noticing that some of the humans are being taken, Logan shouts, "Damnit! Keep them away from the people! Get them out of here!" There's a glance in Rune's direction to make sure the woman is alright, considering the state she'd been in a moment ago.

Laying down the Wards that she did took time, but Illyana's good at that whole 'good of the many' thinking. As long as the few or the one isn't someone that she cares about.

She doesn't give herself long to recover though, pushing herself back up to her feet and teleporting towards the sound of screams. Coming in behind one of the creatures that's managed to get ahold of someone, Magik drives her sword through it's back, the point coming out its chest. It won't hurt the human of course, but magical creatures? Absolutely deadly. "Run for the edge of the park!" She orders the human she just saved while opening stepping disks around those she can see to dump them outside her Wards without any warning.

Okay..hex bolts, surprisingly underwhelming against the flying critter. Fortunately, TJ doesn't give up easily. When she's got her window, jumping onto its back is exactly what she does. Reigns aren't necessary when one has micro suction disc power, simply adhere the hands where they're needed and start pulling!

"Pull up pull up pull up!"

Hey, if she can figure out how to steer this thing then she can start making bombing runs on the ground-based nasties..! If not, she can just blast its temples at point blank then hop on back to the dirt, either way's cool with her.

Getting the other bystanders to safety should be easier if she can stay airborne, however. "Doing what I can up here! Stabilize, darnit!"

Oh, Rune's still upright. To those sensitive to such things, she and her hound have the look and feel of the Wild Hunt about them. It energizes her and gives her focus enough to overcome the layers and layers of shadows and visions that would otherwise overwhelm her in this chaos.

The flyer lets out a horrific srawwwwk, as TJ fights to pull it up. It's claws snap at the thin air above Rune's head, its own head craning backward as it tries to dislodge its sticky rider.

The sidhe-witch starts running across the field. She leaps and disappears in a flash of ley light, only to reappear in a second flash some distance away, in time to slap a shield up around a small family trying to escape a trio of ghouls. Swinging her rod like a club, maintaining the shield around the humans, she starts beating the damned things about the head and shoulders until, with a howl, the hound arrives to dispatch them far more efficiently.

People deposited outside the wards begin to run away from the park — thank whatever gods may be for that. The creatures in the midst of the park begin to converge on the three fighters on the ground when they realize those three must be dispatched before the harvest can be completed.

And the flying thing starts looping through the air to dislodge its unwelcome rider.

Logan leaves most of rescuing folks to the apparently multiple women present who can teleport. Handy. Grunting and shaking his head, the old feral whips around as a claw digs into him, his own claws severing another arm as he deals with the stream of creatures that appear half drawn to his little corner of the park.

Squinting up at the flying thing and its rider, Logan shouts, "Be careful up there, TJ! Grab it by the neck or somethin'!" Sweeping a glance around, the canuck nods to himself as he notes his companions helping get people out of the way while he helps cull the nasty creature population. There's a slowly growing field of collapsed white bodies in the area around the short man.

Magik works in a slowly collapsing spiral, helping to get people The Hell Out Of Here. The worst of things should be around her friends, but they're the best equipped to take care of themselves. She worries less about killing whatever these pale demons are and more about getting people past the border she's created, only spending time actually engaging those that have someone actively in their clutches. There are likely to be a lot of complaints, skinned knees and maybe even some busted ankles as Illyana isn't taking the time to set them down gently but they should be alive.

A momentary clear line-of-sight on the others has Illyana calling out, "How we doin'?"

"By the -neck!-" TJ yelps back, "Are you crazy?! Do you have any idea how awful this thing smells?!"

It's a tricky thing, trying to guide the flyer anywhere remotely where she's wanting it to go. A kick in the ribs here, a smack upside the head there, a point-blank hex bolt or two for encouragement… As it comes around for another pass at those stuck on the ground she tries something completely different, anchoring herself by the tail to its neck as she brings both of her hands up across its eyes.

Things which fly also tend to like to see.

"Up, up, and awohcrap—!"

The good news is, the flying creature's making a break for it. Unfortunately for Talia, it's also taking her along with it.

"See you guys back at the taaaveeeern..!"

The field of creatures is thinning, as are the numbers of humans still left in the park. Rune works out from the center, towards Magik, shunting people via ley line slides to the edges of the wards and then sliding back in. Between the pair, there are very few left in danger… which means the park becomes a killing field for the trio of heroes. TJ's mount careens northward, out of immediate sight — though it won't go much farther than the edge of the unnatural shadow that covers the space. There, at the edge, careening through it, it disappears with a squawk of pain and rage… leaving the blue mutant hanging, but foompable.

When she's sure there are no further humans for her to remove from harm's way, Rune lands out of a ley line with a flash. Eldritch fire forms around her fists and, rod slung back in her back, she starts a dance of death against the ghoulish things, twin blades proving Wolverine's not the only ginsu in this place.

"How many of these damn things are there!" Logan shouts as he continues to give and take with the white ghoulies. Suffice to say he's giving much more than he's taking. He squints up at the sky when the thing flies off with TJ, grumbling to himself before beheading another monster. "Think we're good! Assumin' that thing isn't kidnapping Talia," the old man answers Magik with a bellow.

Continuing to cut the things to pieces while he moves, Logan grunts when he spies Dana and her magic swords, "Now you got me thinking a knight is definitely not what you need, Dana." There's a chuckle from the savage mutant as his claws find a home in some ghoul's chest once again. "Think we're running out of things to cut…"

"I'd put my money on Teej kidnapping *it*." Illyana calls back, her own sword bleeding eldritch fire from how thick the magic is around here. Kidnapping teleporters. Pshaw! Perish the thought. Like Rune, Illyana doesn't get by through magic alone and once the civvies are clear she uses her mystic blade in conjunction with her teleporting to great effect.

Actually, between the three of them, it really doesn't take long for the rest of the creatures to be dispatched. Indeed, by the time TJ is very likely teleporting her tail back to the Silveroak, Rune has met Logan back at the Eagles and Prey statue, her hound racing through the park, enjoying the clean-up process. "I am the daughter of the Wild Hunt," she says in response to his comment, chuckling dryly, though there's stress in her tone. "I told you my father pushed me hard to learn how to defend myself."

The swords disappear from her hands and she raises a hand to her hood, pushing it back and rubbing her temples, palm across her forehead. "Just don't ask me exactly what those things were. I'm not sure." She glances down at the pile of bodies. "But, do you also make julienne fries to go with the diced steaks? The hound'll thank you for this."

There's a snort of laughter from Logan in response to Illyana's comment, and the feral man's motions slowly come to a stop upon realizing there's nothing else that needs killing. His claws disappear, no sign of them having ever existed in the first place. "And you did a damn good job of it," he remarks aside to Dana when she's back at his side. At the question, he smirks, "'fraid not. He'll have to talk to Wassea about fries, if he's feelin' hungry." Surveying the remains of the battle, the mutant shakes his head and then focuses on the half-fae woman for a moment, blue eyes looking her over, "You alright, Dana? Had me scared for a moment when we first got here."

"I'm breathing and I'm standing," Rune replies, hand traveling over her hair to rub at the back of her neck for a moment before it falls to her side. "So, yeah. I'm alright. That was what I affectionately," except she doesn't sound very affectionate — she sounds sarcastic, "like to call a VOID — Vision Of Impending Doom. I think I mentioned them."

There's a bob of the old mutant's head, "Yeah, you mentioned something about those. That didn't look like it was any fun," he adds the last bit dryly. Shaking his head, Logan lifts a hand to scratch at his cheek, "So…Was that some faerie trying to kill you, or was that just some random BS we happened to be present for?" The mutant peers down at some of the ghoulish corpses and grunts. "Ain't ever seen anything like those, seems a little odd for a coincidence. But hell, I seen stranger things happen."

"Can't really say," Rune says, looking up as the shadow overhead slowly dissipates. "What I saw were people being taken, killed, and used in some sort… I'm not really sure what. It was imminent, though, and it was big, or else it would never have hit me so hard." She shakes her head. "But, that magic didn't feel fae to me. So, it really could have been nothing more than wrong place, wrong time."

She can't say whether those things, particularly the flyer, was going specifically after her, or not. It may simply have been homing in on magic in general.

"That said… The fae are never direct. They prefer to use catspaws, which that may have been. Without knowing exactly where they came from? I really can't say."

"Well, that's great," Logan grumbles, arms crossing his chest as they consider the event. He tips his head towards a pile of the creatures, "Would studying one of them be any help?" There's a pause and then a grunt, "The hell are we gonna do with this mess anyways. Don't need the city panicking about a zombie apocalypse or anything ridiculous." Scratching at his cheek, the mutant's eyes settle on Rune again, "Glad you're alright, at least. Looks like you might need some sort of Life Alert button for visions more than you need a knight."

Frowning, Logan wonders, "Shit. How many people you think got taken? Wonder where they went. Can you do some magic trick to figure that out, or no?"

Once the place is cleared out, Illyana's delayed by taking down her Wards. She built the damned things out of her life force, you're damned skippy she's not gonna just leave them up.

The white-clad mutant appears in another flash of light, her stepping disk setting her down beside Wolverine. She looks the short mutant up and down and shakes her head. "I buy you nice things and look what you go and do to them…" She means his clothes of course. Not that she really bought them.

Rune chuckles dryly at Logan's suggestion, as the hound finally comes loping back from his excursion around the park. His muzzle is much redder than it was before. But he's in good spirits. He pads up to his mistress, his tail high and ears forward. "That's what the hound is for." A beat. "You've actually never seen me outside the 'Oak, have you?" she says then, looking at him. "My eyes are crap when I'm away from there. And visions are more likely. But, if I'm going to be part of this world, rather than Father's, I simply have to cope with it."

She looks around now, at his question, however. Again, she rubs at a temple. "I don't know… too many. I might be able to scry for them, but… there's not guarantee."

As for the mess? "Eldritch fire could burn these things away. But, I don't know if I have enough energy to do the whole park. Maybe if we gather them together. Maybe we can dump them somewhere extraplanar."

She glances to Illyana as the sorceress returns. A wry smile. "Thanks for your help. Those wards made a huge difference." A beat. "By the way… how's meth-head doing?"

"I didn't do anything to 'em. Put it on the zombie's tab," Logan snorts at Illyana in amusement when she pops back into sight at his side. He glances at her, looking her over briefly, "You didn't have any trouble, did you?" His attention flicks back to Rune and the dog, "Huh. Sorry to hear that. Guess that would make things a lot more difficult, eh?" Sniffing sharply, Logan hooks his thumbs in belt loops, "Suppose I'll start on gathering them. Wouldn't want you ladies getting yourselves dirty after all. Maybe the dog can help." He's already wandering off towards some of the bodies, dragging them into a pile and then moving for the farther off ones.

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