No 'Friends' of Mine

March 05 2015: A Purifier mob rolls into M-Town to bust and burn the place. A group of X-Men, Mutants and Concerned Citizens stop them.


M-Town is a rough place, but right now it's tense and scared as the Purifiers roll though.



  • Purifier Mob

Mood Music:
[* None]

M-Town is full of mutants. Which makes it rough. Real rough, sometimes, but on the whole much safer for mutants than anywhere else. Except… tonight. Tonight… it's bad. It started with a house fire. Fire response is slow in this part of town for obvious reasons. Police response too. Then the fire turned into two. And then three. And then four. That was on one side of the district…

And it was a ditraction. Now marching down the main drag a mob of Purifiers is shouting and breaking windows and… things are going to get ugly any minute. Mutants don't take well to this kind of thing but most of them aren't power houses. Mostly they're just odd people. It's gonna be a bit before the cops show up.

Most aren't powerhouses. Bobby isn't most mutants. And he lives here, damn it. He's got no beef with humans but Purifiers? No, this isn't going to stand. He's puts out a call on the X-System and heads to confront the mob. He's standing in an intersection. The side roads have already been iced off and the iceman himself 'armored up'. "Okay, seriously guys, go home. No one wants this here."

He's not expecting any response but gunfire.

Which is all he's probably going to get.


Longshot might not be a mutant, but he used to play one on TV, in the Mojoverse's production of "Charles Xavier: A Life on Two Wheels". The bald cap itched like crazy. Anyway, he's an X-man, he considers himself close to the mutant people. Plus, the whole four-fingers thing means he gets called "Mutie" on twitter, like, three hundred times a day. When Bobby's call goes out, he was hanging out at a club near M-town, lingering around the VIP and balancing a glass of champagne on the tip of his finger while several young models applauded.

"I'm afraid duty calls, girls. No rest for the wicked or those who punish 'em," he winks, withdrawing his finger and somehow letting the glass land on the table without spilling a drop, "I've got all your digits. Next week, you three, me, John Stamos' house? He has a killer jacuzzi…"

Shortly, he's pulling his bike up behind Bobby, drawing his sword as he steps off, "Oh, I've seen this one. West Side Story. Stay cool, boy," he says, turning and looking over at Bobby and giving him a roguish grin, "Riff. You feelin' ready to rumble?" he says, twirling his blade casually around his wrists in a butterly motion, both showing off and preparing to deflect any incoming gunfire.


It's been a minute since Kwabena was in District-X. The reasons he came here weren't exactly pretty. They were former smooth dealers, and he was 'checking in on them'. Some of them got nice presents, like shot glasses, little round mirrors from IKEA that are perfect for cutting up powders, knives, shit like that. Others got presents of a different variety; bloody noses, cracked ribs, detached retina. Keeping pawns in check was very similar to conducting a symphony.

This is why The Verve is playing in his earbuds while he waits things out. It's not hard to catch the buzz (pun intended) when 'socializing' with lowlife drug dealers. It's not until Iceman does his thing that he decidedly extinguishes his cigarette, discards the earbuds and some other personal belongings into a mailbox, and comes up alongside the iced up mutant.

"Man." Silver eyes just glance a bit toward Bobby. "You just can't turn down a good pahty, can you?"

Another glance is passed toward Longshot. "Three's company." He looks back toward the Purifiers. "You jackasses really ought to go occupy some oddah street!"


Pepper Potts is about as regular-human as a person could get. However, she is rather partial to the handmade ceramics from a very unassuming litle shop here in M-Town. As luck would have it, she was here to pick up a custom requested piece when things turned decidedly unpleasant outside. At probably more than a bit of personal risk, she steered as many innocents into the pottery shop as she could to get them away from danger, and is now peering out toward the street from the only view point facing that direction — the small plate glass window in the shop's front door.


No, no the Partisan is not a mutant despite the rumors. That would actually explain a whole lot, but sadly it's wide of the mark. She is however a fan of duty free smokes, and theres this dude in M-town she knows who sells Gauloises blue by the carton for like nothing. So she's in town, trading euros for French cigarettes with one of stuck smoldering in the side of her mouth. Pausing as she gets a whiff of smoke, and retreats to that ratty looking late model BMW. Popping the smokes in the back, and flipping the police scanner on over the speakers. Yeah, ok. Shit about to kick off, she's fucking on it. Dropping the car into gear as she snags a hockey bag in the back seat and quickly drags it up into the passenger seat.


Rachel was in the area hoping to catch Bobby for a chat and maybe get a bottle of wine super-cooled, then his distress call came out. Within a matter of seconds she had used her powers of matter alteration to change from her civilian attire into a tight fitting X-Men Uniform.

A golden fiery aura surrounds her as she flies up beside Bobby using her telekinetic abilities, "Really, you couldn't get these guys to chill out on your own?" She couldn't help but grin a little bit before telling the others, "I'll handle the group on the right."


A straggling Purifier, wearing the a rough puffy wintercoat, complete with a white cross on the left breast of it, skimask, and holding two bottles, presumably moltavs, slips into the rear of the Purifier Mob. I mean really they are an excellent local IPA but well Mystique had to make do with what she had nearby.

You see Bobby is not the only mutant that spends time in M-Town. The Brotherhood has multiple safehouses. Lets see. Oh right. Said late to arrive Purifer shouts at Bobby and crew from deep in the mob "Mutie Scum!" hell it seems like all hell is about to break loose anyhow with all the guns and weaponry. Might as well make sure the X-ers realize that there aren't options with humanity like this faster.


Bobby's… dealt enough with fanatics to know that this is frequently not an option and as bullets start to fly he throws up a hasty ice wall between him and the incoming harbingers of Sir Isaac Newton. Rounds strike off it, off Longshot's sword, off Rachel's TK field and skip and whine around Shift. "Well. So much for warning them." He says to the other three he can see. Peppers's got a good view of the foursome. The shop she and the civvies are in is basically right on the incipient battle line. Partisan gets a good view of it too as she comes up.

"Okay. I'll scatter 'em." The rest of them know their business. Iceman doesn't feel the need to direct them. There was trouble, they came. Time to move. He ramps up toward the sky and extends his arms. Berto pays him well, but he's never really been able to make it rain.

Making it hail… now that he can do all on his own. Golf ball sized hailstones materialize and drop down on the crowd, scattering it and turning the gunfire from a solid volley to much more 'scattered showers.' Toward the front, those home made flame throwers light up as several Purifiers go to work the ice barriers or try to catch a moving Bobby.


Two of the Purifiers (these thankfully not armedwith guns) approach the shop Pepper is keeping the bystanders in. They… uh, they have fire.


Longshot grins at Shift, "Musketeers, it seems, and a hot lady D'artagnan to boot," he says, throwing a wink Rachel's way as he throws himsef into the fray. He runs up the side of a nearby van and just backflips into the midst of the Purifiers. He flings throwing razors, some of them ricocheting with surprising accuracy, one notaby cutting the hose off a flamethrower and causing one of the Purifiers to go up like a Roman candle.

Longshot lands on his feet, decking one Purifier with his left hand while blocking another's attack with his sword, repelling him back after the hater tries to hit him with his rifle, "You boys have to admit, he was really asking for that. If you chant 'Burn in Hell' that much, that's what we in the business call 'foreshadowing'," he says, ducking another swing and slicing low, hamstringing his foe and leaping forward into the fray fearlessly.


Another jacket, ruined. Kwabena just scowls a bit at the fresh bullet holes, before reaching down beneath his clothing and pulling the mask up over his face. When fire girl tells them she'll handle the group on the right, Kwabena smirks ruefully from the exposed lower half of his face. "How'd you know?" he asks. Little inside joke. Something about it hanging to the left, but, he's a gentleman.

"Which of us is D'artagnan?" asks Shift, before the action really kicks off. Kwabena's clothes fall to the ground, formalizing his final transformation into his code name, and a pillar of black smoke climbs from where he once stood, pouring over the top of the ice wall and into a cluster of Purifiers.

When Shift reforms, his near-black uniform is all that's left. Skin tight by nature of the unstable molecules it's weaved of. "You fucks got Pershacare?" he asks, before the shit really goes down. It's a flurry of vicious street moves, faces punched in, arms broken, legs shattered. He takes a few blows himself, but the stray bullets and blades seem to pass right through him, as do some of the more well-meaning blows, leaving little tufts of smoke behind. Those nearest to the Ghanaian find themselves sprawled upon the pavement in a world of hurt; the bloodwork left behind looks like some kind of experimental modern art, splattered all about.


Part grabs the handbrake as she pulls the wheel to one side, swinging that ancient 7 series to the side and blocking the road. She's coming to a pause opposite that ice wall, and well this would box in the purifiers save as far as the roadway is concerned.She bails out quickly, slipping on her backpack as she races around the rear to pop the trunk and out comes a proper HK-21 and a few cases of ammo. She ducks behind the car for a moment as she charges the weapon and gets those belts linked, before well it's showtime. She flips out the bipod and drops it down over the hood of the car, before flipping the safety off. It takes alot've trigger time to be able to use a high cyclic rate weapon like the 21 correctly, unfortunately for some Part's got more than enough experience.

"Hey, Hey you tryhard chucklefucks behind you!"That'd be none other than -The- Mother Fucking Partisan friends and neighbors, and she has a god damned machinegun. "Get some!"and with that, she opens fire. At over a thousand rounds of minute of .308 fired from a stable position, Part makes the most of the four hundred rounds she's got linked up. Sending huge brush strokes of brilliant orange down the street as she dumps neat 20-30 round bursts into individual purifiers, with a particular attention seemingly given to the assholes with the flame throwers. This being Part of course the fire is remarkably well aimed, she isn't just spraying wildly. No no, she's just making absolutely certain none of them get open casket funerals when all is said and done. "Die motherfuckers die!"


Pepper Potts sees two of the rioters outside approaching and ducks away from the door. She's already discovered that the only other way out of this tiny shop leads to a tiny open space enclosed by the surrounding buildings that the potter uses for his business's kilns. Having already discussed plans with the man, she nods to him and he helps a few of the calmer civilians gently herd everyone out to that yard as quickly as possible. It'll be cold and crowded, but better than being at risk of flying shards of pottery.

For her own part, Pepper nervously hefts the old wooden baseball bat that usually stays behind the shopkeeper's counter. Those two outside try to step into this shop and they'll learn that back in the day Pepper tried out for her high school softball team. And almost made the team. Almost.


Rachel's cheeks may have turned the same color as her hair, thanks to the phoenix like aura surrounding her though it likely wasn't seen. She definitely noticed the wink though, "The name's Rachel."

The first group of Purifiers she targets is exclusively with her telepathic abilities, causing them to want to go home; back to their families and rethink their lives. It's far nicer than many of the others seem to be doing to them and far nicer than she feels they deserve.

When she notices Miss Potts in trouble she flies over, only levitating a few feet above the ground and interposes herself between the brave baseball bat wielding woman and her potential assailants before smiling at Pepper, "When this is over, promise to tell me the name of your hairstylist?"


One moment there is the Purifier in the middle of the group of people mostly out of sight. The next there is a young african american woman with dreads wearing a leather trench coat and wielding two wickedly sharp strange alloy knives. One of the purifiers gets stuck right in the temple and the young woman twists around to use him as extra cover as the machine gun begins. Quickly backing up towards the icewall through the mass of people with her human shield "How is this even remotely a good idea you maniac!" god damned lunatic is what Mystique is thinking now. Though she appreciates the level of heavy handedness most seem to be inflicting on the Purifiers. Oh the headlines tomorrow.


Bobby isn't particularly worried about being set on fire. Mostly because this isn't, like, thermite or anything and you'd actually have to burn him quite a bit to get to him. Also he'd just make more ice. So there's that. So he's fireproof. Not, however, bulletproof. Bullet resistant, yes, but high powered rifle rounds cover a multitude of sins. Theres a crack from Iceman and a spray of red from his left shoulder along with a cry of pain. The offending gunman is promptly turned into a snowman. Literally. A ball of snow covers his legs, a smaller one his torso and finally a smaller one still his head. With a bit of room for breathing. He's not going anywhere.

Iceman hops off the ramp near Shift and begins to start icing off the ground, making it impossible for anyone to get any traction. Well, anyone who isn't special. He doubts Shift or Longshot will have much of a problem with it. He does manage to ice off the ground under Mystique though, without knowing.

Between the mutants and Partisan the mob has largely scattered. A great many of them have run off either out of fear or because they have a sudden realisation that they've made terrible life choices. And no few are dead as well. There's still scattered fighting though, enough to be dangerous. Shift is still in the thickest of it. With folks trying to mob him down by brute force and Longshot finds himself the target of a couple with better aim than most. Partisan… well, someone chucks a molotov at Part and then goes after her with a flame thrower.

Pepper and Rachel are alone with two guys who have knives and crowbars. "Look Mutie. Why don't you get outta the way so we can deal with this sellout, then we'll deal with you. Give you a head start, all sportin' like."

He's totally not going to do that.


Better aim is all well and good, but Longshot, well, he's always got a couple of angels riding on his shoulders. Angels who like to cheat. Somehow, he manages to chop one bullet away with his sword, deflecting it right into the hand of the other guy, making his gun explode in his hand. He races forward, throwing kicks and punches, elbows. He actually isn't trying to deal out much in the way of murder - it makes his agent SO bitchy - but he's not afraid to defend himself either. But he's plenty adept at the non-lethal stuff and, hey, if some of them accidentally find themselves getting unlucky, that's not his fault, is it?

Okay, it totally is.

Seeing Pepper and Rachel facing down those guys, he catapults himself up and over, giving a pair of Purifiers a noggin-knocker and cracking their skulls together as they serve as a vault, so that he lands behind the two guys, ready to nail them in the face if the Redhead Brigade needs some backup.


Had Shift decided to get really brutal, this would be over. Instead, he's taking a beating, and he doesn't like it. The time comes for a rather poignant message to be delivered. The lower half of his body makes an odd noise and becomes supersolid, cracking the ice beneath his feet to give him traction. Then, one after the other, he grabs the Purifiers not armed with guns, and spins them around to put them into the way of friendly fire. The message? How does it feel to murder your own friends?

"Go on!" he shouts out between moves. "Keep shooting! Don't stop on my account!" he snarls, ignoring the fact that his uniform is steadily becoming caked with fresh blood.

Even a couple of knives find their way into the flesh of their own, before things start to die down. Soon he feels the message is sent, Shift shoves a dying Purifier into the arms of a trembling woman who just shot and killed her own fanatical husband. He takes a few steps forward, rips off his mask, and regards the woman with every ounce of cold indifference he can muster. He levels a gloved finger toward her as the tears start to flow down her face and growls, "Consequences. We didn't staht dis."

The mask comes back up when she slips to the ice, covered in her husband's blood.


In comes the molotov, and Partisan ducks behind that BMW and well seemingly bugs out. The 21 clatters to the ground just as that gout of flame torches the BMW, and well it might verywell be a first right? Partisan bailing on a fight? The asshole with a flamethrower rounds the car and pauses, before things turn back towards whatever counts for normal with the Partisan. She ducks out from behind a parked van, sprinting down the sidewalk before coming to an abrupt stop and letting off a single round from her trademark AKSU through the asshole's knee. She's on him in the blink of an eye before the guy can even hit the ground, grasping him by the collar and driving him foreward through the shot out passenger window of that BMW. Theres a moment of digging, before she comes away with a thermite grenade, which she stuffs down the back of his flame retardent jacket before she backs up. Casually sweeping around the BMW with her AKSU raised.
Theres a cry of pure animal terror before that thermite grenade pops, and whatevers left of the BMW goes up in a pillar of flame. Part's still in the fight of course, dropping singles and doubles from that AK as she begins to systematically work her way towards Shift. Pepper thusfar hasn't quite been noticed, but well theres a bunch of purifiers on the ground to execute nevermind the assholes still standing. It's sort've a busy time, but she does find enough time to shout towards shift. "You alright?"


"If we make it out of this in one piece," Pepper tells the woman floating nearby, "I'll treat you to an entire spa day." She stands her ground, having put herself in front of the pottery shop door. Just try it. She hasn't had a chance to REALLY swing a bat in… gosh. Decades. And then, when the one with the crowbar takes a swing at her, the suddenly icy sidewalk actually proves helpful as slips and falls square on one hip, dropping her out of the range of that crowbar.

Despite the flare of pain from the fall (GOD does it remind her of ice skating and falling over and over and over), Pepper swings the baseball bat at the man's shins with as much force as she can muster from this far less advantageous position. Shades of Misery, anyone?


Rachel wasn't about to deny Pepper her vengeance, the men had threatened her and it would have been rude to interrupt. Smiling at Longshot, she calls out, "Nah, I've got this guy. He's just dealing with some childhood issues."

The other man who had been threatening Rachel and Pepper drops to his knee, tears flowing down his cheeks as Rachel digs into his head and makes him relive his worst memories; the very things that lead him down this path.

"I'm definitely holding you to that, I've NEVER had a real spa day." She couldn't help but feel sorry for some of the purifiers as much as she hated people like this, if she lacked compassion she would cease being anything remotely close to human.


Damned iceboy. Myqsitue shifts her feet compensating even the street ices over like that "Crap!" she yelps. She does look her grip on her meatshield but she has enough balance to continue to stay on her feet there. She grumbles but the lakc of machine gun is good. She starts to skate towards Bobby's snowall, stabbing a couple of Purifiers and then well she seems to be on her way out, away from gunfire.


Bobby's down to one arm. His other would be bleeding profusely, but he's frozen the blood. Most of the purifiers are running and the ones that aren't are getting put into little ice cages one by one, sometimes two by two. Shift has broken his attackers, and Partisan… well, no one wants to stand up to her right now either.

Pepper actually breaks her attacker's shin and he drops to a knee, shattering that in the process. He's done and with that… the fight really seems to be over. Bobby's first thought is relief. His second…

What a mess…

"Shift!" He calls out. "Partisan!" Yeah he knows her too. "Nice work." Lethal work but he's not going to complain about getting back up. He thought that was going to be worse. "Where did Rachel and Longshot go- wait… Pepper?!"


Pepper Potts sits up with a hiss — her hip is going to be REALLY unhappy with her tomorrow — and scoots away from the Purifier whose shin she just broke. She doesn't even try to stand while there's still ice on the ground, as it'd be a tricky prospect in sneakers and she's wearing her usual killer heels. "Should I call 911 or something?" She lays the baseball bat across her lap and rubs her hands together to try and warm them.


"Oh yeah! Fine!" Shift's call back to Partisan is filled with sarcasm. "Just watching peopah throw dere lives away." Shift shakes his head and begins to walk away, though as he does, he pauses long enough to throw a fist out toward Partisan for the dapping. The woman gets a lingering look. "Jesus, you nevah go small, do you?" He grins.

When Bobby calls out, Kwabena glances over toward the Iceman. He throws the guy a two-fingered salute, then cracks his sore neck before nodding his way. This mess is gonna bring authorities, stat, and he does not do authorities.

With a poof, he transforms into smoke and goes skating off across the ice, out of sight.


Longshot smiles to Rachel at the remark, "Looks like it! Migraines, I'm guessing, maybe a little hint of Mommy issues. Well if he didn't before, he probably does -now- anyway," he says with a chuckle. He makes a wincing face as Pepper hits so brutally on the guy going at her, "Yowza, okay, I'm just gonna stay over here, but it's really good to see you ladies getting out, doing your civic duty, that sort of thing. Volunteering. Bakes sales," he says, looking back at the burning remnants of Mr. Flamethrower.


Partisan returns the fist pound "Go big or go home, be safe Shift. You should drop by for a drink sometime you know?"There are other things to attend to however, Pepper is here and well Bobby's been shot. "Pepper, are you alright?"Glancing after Bobby as she lets that AK down to hang at her side, ever so casually delivering the final blow to some poor fuck who decided to grab at her shin. "Bobby, sit down now and I will attend to your wound there."Spoken like, well no it's not optional and more than likely Bobby knows it.


Rachel shakes her head to Pepper, "Best not to call 911, it would only cause more problems. You handled yourself pretty well though." When Longshot mentions bake sales, she places her hands on her hips asking, "You baking?"


Longshot grins, with a sly look on his face, "Well, not yet, but I do know a good Jamaican restaurant…"


Pepper Potts sighs and all but rolls her eyes at Longshot before calling over toward Partisan, "I'm okay." She doesn't think anything's broken, anyway. "Oh. Someone needs to check on the people in the pottery shop." Again, she'd try to stand but high heels and ice have never been a good combination.


"Right, but the cops will be here eventually anyway." Bobby sits down. Being shot hurts like hell and he will absolutely let Partisan patch him up. "I'm public, so I can stay to answer questions. The rest of you, except maybe Pepper, may want to make like Shift and bug out pretty quick." He gives the others a kind of wan smile. "I'll catch up with you all later. Thanks for saving my bacon, really. Now shoo. I'll handle the police."

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