elseworldexiles | Watch, I can flash across the sky a lightning bolt from up on high

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Watch, I can flash across the sky a lightning bolt from up on high

Just moments before they had been toasting the joining of two families to create peace. Now things have fallen into chaos with fights breaking out and a motorcycle bearing a rider wreathed in flames crashing through the window.

This is exactly what was not supposed to happen, looks like Ramon will be losing a paycheck and if anyone loses a life maybe a lot more.

Erik has stayed back from the fighting to watch the patterns for the most part. A nudge of power here and there to protect people while he and the others are encouraging normal citizens to flee to area so this can be taken care of.

Scott Summers is somewhere fighting based on the flash and sound of his optic blasts firing.

There is so much going on that it's understandable he didn't notice at first. Several hundred magnetic signatures are hard to sift through even for him but there is one missing that should be there.

"Lorna!" He looks around to confirm visually what he already knows. "WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?"

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It's the biker that's on fire that does it.

He was fine just sitting to the side, letting the drama play out, and figuring out what the hell went wrong after the fact. The whole distraction of Logan and Raven back at the Mansion wasn't helping. And then a biker with a face like a flaming skull crashes through the window, Erik's gone into full on 'I am King of this here Hill' mode, and the Avengers are here.

Right. That's Xavier's limit. Everyone dies.

"That." It's meek at first. "Is." The echo kind of reduces the effect. Bad accoustics. "Quite." And then you realize. "/Enough./" The echo isn't from the room, the words are simply being spoken out loud...and in your /mind/.

Instinctively, and with a mother's fear for her children driving her, Wanda raises a hex shield about herself and her father.

Deadpool's mind isn't conducive to telepathy at all... but this is even strong enough to buckle his knees.

"OW! What in targoddamnation son of a motherless - !"

He has his own means for dealing with the telepathy that he has built over the years, even still there is an echo in his mind from Charles' anger.

He will back it by sending a wave of magnetism through the room destroying communicators and cell phones (the Lehnsherr's communicators are shielded to prevent this)and not a few digital watches as well.

The enraged Ghost Rider is not amused. Xavier can feel something inhuman and powerful riding this woman and it delights in the chaos and injury. Roxanne herself can only guide what she becomes and make it focus on:

"Murderers! Worshipers of Greed and Power!"

As the Ghost Rider jumps into the fray.

A bellhop in the Hotel Transia's uniform approaches, his eyes unfocused, as if someone else is directing his steps.

"Zombie," is the only thing that registers briefly in the mind of the Rider. She tries to move past him towards the greater evil.

A pompous-looking man in a 3-piece suit advances on her. "Now, look here, whatever you are," he says, giving her his best glare. "You've made a big mistake, coming ... here...."

His voice falters as he looks into her eyes. Instead of his reflection, he sees a dozen crying faces. Children. Their sobs tear at his heart.

Other faces join the children's. Men he had ruined with the stroke of a pen or a single phone call, or even a simple gesture and nod. Nameless, faceless victims of the slums: nameless, faceless, and voiceless no longer.

He sinks to his knees with the force of their pain.

No sinking to the knees allowed. His lapels are grabbed and used to remove his whole body from the floor as the Spirit of Vengeance brings him face to face - eye to eye...

His store burned to the ground with his wife inside...having his clothes ripped off while other him laughs on, boasting he can do anything he wants...the neverending banality of evil as it runs ramshod over dozens, maybe hundreds of good people now forced to do terrible things...The feeling of paper with a weight so heavy it feels like water in the lungs...

...And then there's the children...the terror of not being home, the overwhelming unbearable feeling of this moment being wrong and nothing will be right again...the desire to please, if only to be able to live through the moment, not knowing if there is a life outside of this...the screams of those broken enough by his actions to force them on others, to walk the streets, to drink or shoot up in order to try and forget...

This is only a moment's glance into the Hell he has made for himself. She tosses him aside like just another ragdoll to leave him to it.

Landing hard on the floor against a terracotta planter, he curls up in the fetal position, moaning and rocking with the terror and shame blazing across his mind.

Really, this is just too annoying. Although Jean supposes it's further proof that the Lensherrs are the old who should be swept aside in favor of the new. Xavier was, as always, correct about such things.

She focuses on this burning rider, trying to probe the stranger's mind. Give me the proper lever, and I can move anyone....

"All of my work...damn your rage, Erik! We'll find her! Just calm down!" Xavier shouts, noticing...vaguely...that Jean is, at least, doing as she's told.

Unexpected resistance from the scarred man. Xavier turns to /look/ at Deadpool, focusing his mind...

'Destroy her.' The Voice of Xavier commands. 'Destroy the woman on the motorcycle. Xavier commands it! Heed me!'

Deadpool's mind is normally resistant to telepathy, but Xavier is strong with the mental hoodoo.

He looks squarely at the man as he gets up and pulls out swords.

"Pay me! Deadpool commands it! Heed ME!"

Still, seeing Red knocked cold and Nessa losin' it - it's about time somethin' else died.

Springing forward into a flip, he makes a concerted effort to deftly scissor-chop that flaming head right off that flaming spine.

Ghost Rider has more important things to do than deal with Deadpool.

Sarah doesn't have a lot left. Her left arm is hanging loosely, her shoulder swollen and hideously out of joint from the impact. She's bruised and scarred. But she's up, and Fixit isn't.

Pulling the shield off her left arm, she sizes up the conflict, and prays that Deadpool's healing factor is as good as the claim.

She doesn't hold back, using her full strength when she throws the shield towards Deadpool's waist, trying to catch the man while his attention is elsewhere, aiming for somewhere around the base of his spine with the discus, thrown hard enough to chop through cinderblock without slowing down... and hoping it gives Roxy the time to do whatever it is she needs to do.

The Ghost Rider isn't a slouch in a fight. Super strength is fueled by righteous fury. The probe to the possessed woman's mind by the telepath will reveal a smiling demon. Rich bitch wants to understand power? There is a reason Jean Grey is both chosen and weak against the Phoenix Force. Whatever that fissure is, hellfire now licks at it.

The skull is whipped back by the scissor kick. The Spirit of Vengeance then turns it's attention to the merc.

The faces. The bodies.

VoicestoucheskissestearstoomuchtoomuchTOOMUCHTOOMUCH!

Jean Summers falls to her knees, vainly squeezing her eyes shut against her husband's reproachful gaze ... her son's innocent trusting eyes ... Xavier's devouring mind-voice....

The difference between this Charles Xavier and the Charles Xaviers who can normally be found throughout the universes can be summerized in a single word, as he sees Jean Summers's fall.

"Useless." He sneers, not even having a moment to amend his master plan. Obviously he had chosen his pawns too quickly. Take a moment to think: Scott is ignoring the biggest threat in the room. So he's finally making his move, eh? Good for him. The Rider can consume people with forced guilt with a glance, so direct mental contact may not be advised. Also, she's on a motorcycle that is made of fire.

A trio of blank faced employees turn fire extinguishers on Roxy and her bike's flaming wheels, while another trio of party guests...a man, his wife, and their ten year old girl, to be precice, stand at attention, blankly moving in front of Xavier's wheelchair!

"You will not undo my work." Xavier snarls at the interlopers, "Not when I am /so close/. The world /needs/ this, don't you understand? I can finally bring peace to this mad, angry, twisted little planet! And none of you meddlers will stop me, do you understand?! None of you!"

The family is brushed aside. He's grasping while the Rider is focused.

"Look at me, Charles Xavier and tell me what it is!"

Everyone else got a glance into their wickedness. This is a long hard stare at it.

Deadpool, meanwhile, has been cleaved in half by the mighty throw of that shield... but what little sense he has left as he bleeds is to earn his paycheck.

A sword is hurled at the back of the Rider's head as she roars past him...

"FIRE BAD!"

Eye contact. That's all it takes.

But, amazingly, impossibly, the mighty mind of Charles Xavier /struggles/ with the Ghost Rider's psychic invasion! Sizzling neural lightning manifests around the mastermind's wheelchair as he fights for his own sense of self, his beliefs, his DREAM...it's a world where crime is the only way to do busniess, he had to...

"Aaaah!" Xavier shakes in his chair, blood starting to frip from his nose, his mouth...his eyes...

Its all Sarah can do to retrieve the shield, completely shocked at Deadpool somehow still acting, despite being in two pieces...
She's not fast enough to stop the thrown sword, just hoping somehow Roxy will be able to take it.

Over the coms, she calls, "We need to fall back, with the Hulk and Deadpool down, they'll bring reinforcements... please tell me we can get Ghost Rider out... somehow?"

Ghost Rider is undeterred. There is so much evil from this man. So much blood and pain that he's ordered. Every cut Forge made burns across his skin. Every death knell lances through his superior telepathic mind. Every day of wickedness shreds his soul finer and finer. Then there are images far blacker - the twisted souls of Xavier's protegee's are laid before him. The images of a loving mutant couple and their almost normal lives - the Xavier ideal - twisted apart through his machinations. Looking into the empty socks of the Rider is to look at your soul through the eyes of the divine. Charles has profaned so much of the good in this universe on his mission.

A mission that began to protect and grow mutant kind twisted away from it's almost holy mission and has come to this place...

"This is your wrath. Your pride. How is it Professor! How does it feel to fail!"

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Watch, I can flash across the sky a lightning bolt from up on high

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