Exiles in Elseworlds

The blow is sound, driving him off-track for precious, lucid moments, but his attentions are not so easily distracted. He intends to kill her, and as he rolls back to his feet, clothing stained with the blood of innocents and vampires alike, he makes his move once more, aiming to slice off her hands.

From:

He backflips after the kick, ricocheting himself off the ceiling, then tries for his own claw-strike, and at Mystique's suggestion... maybe he can wrench that head right off, if he sinks them in deep enough. This thing counts as a vampire, far as he's concerned, whether he is or not...

From:

house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com

What is it with the hands? She lost two on the last world alone. Those things are a bitch to regrow. Hers snap back at the wrist, bone folding into her forearms.

Ammo's useless. She reaches for lighter fluid instead. Burn out the eyes while Die Spinne has him distracted, then worry about what to do next. Never try to think too far ahead, not when he's like this.

She shifts into a pale skinned, long haired redhead - her James's favourite fetish. The form may mean nothing to this one, but it always makes hers gasp.

From:

Un-possessing a corpse? More difficult than possessing one. Not that it was a true possession, more like being stuck somewhere in between dimensions. Very surreal experience, there.

TJ is finally pulling herself out of the gold shell of a former person in a manner not unlike the average zombie pulling itself out of the grave. "Uhng, remind me to never do that agai- OH SHIT!"

Both hands fire hex bolts- one at the webbing holding Mystique down, the other at Wolverine's eyes.

From:

A clawstrike means having to come into reach of Wolverine. Claws meet claws, rending flesh in turn as he continues to move. Pain is less like a deterrent and more like an intoxicating stimulant; and while the cuts run deep, and the blood wells forth like some kind of unholy spring, it's not enough to staunch the attack. He lashes out at the futuristic Spider with a savage backhand, following it up with a kick at the gut. The followthrough brings him back in sight of his original prey ...

He pauses, leers at Mystique for a moment; a primal surge that's hard to mistake in his ravaged features. It's a moment that allows the hex bolts flung from across the room to strike, slamming him against the unrelenting stone. He shakes his head, blood already clotting across his skin.

His vision may be blurred, but he is a mutant who relies more on scent. And he knows Mystique's now. Logan emits a fetid, vengeful snarl, and launches his weight at her, teeth bared in an expression tainted with lust.

From:

Shock, that thing hits hard.

It's up for debate whether he crashed into the wall, or just caught it for support, but he's upside down and wincing through that pain. Hoping TJ can keep it distracted long enough for him to spring back into the game...

From:

More hex bolts, now using both hands to fire at Logan. Hopefully the holes she punched in the webbing holding Mystique down will be enough for her to free herself before things get really messy.

She still doesn't know if she can possess a vampire or not. She'd rather not try and find out until it was absolutely necissary, and she's had some time to recover from trying to jump-start the dead gold kid.

From:

He smolders as he crashes into coffins, spilling their occupants unceremoniously onto the floor that is now a carpet of mingling rivers of blood. An acrid stink of burning flesh stains the already-putrified air.

Logan picks up one that remains intact so far, and hurls it - occupant and all - at her.

From:

And that's when two globs of webbing shoot out from the ceiling at those clawed hands of his, hoping to dull those sharp edges by covering them in gunk.

Giving TJ a moment before this freak charges her...

From:

The coffin just barely misses as she leaps out of its path, clinging to the wall and scrambling up towards the ceiling, firing more bolts with alternating hands.

From:

A stake follows, aimed at her face, wrenched from the ashes of another. His eyesight returned, healing factor accelerated by adrenalin, he noisily claws the thick, rancid air, bone meeting webbing, creating some kind of crazed cats-cradle between them.

From:

While Nocturne is scrambling to the ceiling, Spidey covers her by kicking that stake out of the way before it hits anybody.

Then, he gives the elf girl a look.

"On three."

Two more weblines fire out of his wrists, to snag this monster's arms.

"One!"

With a bit of a grunt, his heightened strength will manage to yank that snarling ugly off the ground, right towards them.

"Two!"

Then, before he gets those stubby arms into chopping range, he juts his foot out right at that drooling face.

"THREE!"

From:

SMACK

TJ times a two-footed kick to Logan's face along with spidey's, adding a few more hex bolts in for good measure.

This really shouldn't be as fun as it is, should it?

From:

Blood splatters, bone cracks and splinters. Skin burns.

Wolverine gives a torrid voice to the heat of pain within.

From:

There's a slight smirk beneath the mask.

"Maybe we're actually a team after all."

Then, he's cursing flipping out on Mystique. He's hoping he's got enough webbing left to pin this guy wherever he lands...

It comes out in globs - pin those claws down first... then the ankles...

From:

Flesh and bone regenerates before their eyes; a healing factor driven to insane speed over the years out of necessity and environment. He lands heavily, but even so he's rolling back to his bare, bloodied feet. He may not be sane, he may not be entirely human, but a predator learns - and learns quickly. He will not be tagteamed a second time.

The claws are sheathed, shedding the webbing onto the surface of his skin. He then reaches up to take the flickering torch from its brace on the wall to burn it from his flesh.

No sound from him this time, but he watches them both with a predator's eye.

And the torch will come for the webslinger, held in his scorched hand and aimed for his face as he springs forward once again.

From:

Shock it! This creep is unstoppable!

It's only his reflexes that manage to save him, surprised at the bastard's vertical leap to come after them on the ceiling... that, and the unique makeup of his costume that's flame retardant.

Still, the fire scorches him with its heat. He drops straight to the floor to avoid that charge, springing back to the ceiling as quickly as he can, next to TJ.

"Now's your chance, before he regains his footing!"

A fastball special, hurling Nocturne at the hairy runt.

"GET IN HIS HEAD!"

From:

The move catches her by surprise, but only for a few fractions of a second. She moves herself into a very graceful swan dive, sailing towards the Canadian, ready to phase into his body.

From:

He whirls with surprising speed, the torch still in his hand - and hurls it at her throat with a roar. Bone is still knitting, and his face is visibly shifting back into shape as it does so.

From:

The vision is accelerated, and the reflexes are enhanced... so he's hoping that'll be enough to snuff that flame with thes webbing shots...

From:

Her fuzz is a little singed by the time the webbing snuffs out the flame, but she doesn't let it interrupt her dive into Logan's chest, where she immediately begins to fight for control of his body.

From:

proteus-maximus.livejournal.com

"Nocturne? You.. did you get him?"

From:

house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com

The hex bolts did the trick. Between the mounds of charred webbing and the shed skin to get the last of it off her, it looks like there's apartially digested woman on the floor.

But now Raven is free.

She strides over to James/T.J. The girl's powers normally leave a victim unconcious for 24 hours after the possession ends. With James, that might buy her 2.4 seconds.

It'll be enough.

She cups his cheek in one hand. "Time to go now, sweetheart." It's not clear who she's talking to.

From: