Rex the paperclip octopus dutifully carried Koga who was still blinking his eyes wondering if he was conscious, or if he was alive or if he was simply delusional. It wasn’t all that odd for your mind to play tricks on you when it was deprived of oxygen. And then in this giant claythulu world he lived in that he was simply saved by paperclips in the end. Why not, right?

And so it was while he was being carried by the papercliptopus that he heard the earsplitting scream of… he looked around drowsily to find exactly who was making his headache worse. Was that, no, it couldn’t be. It was equally stupid herself. She referred to him as child porn boy and reported on incomplete information about the orphanage situation. He couldn’t say he cared for her. but why w she screaming help when Cthulhu was dead? His glanced back at Cafas and then heard him scream about what she had done. Could it be? No, Katrina said it was two kids, that cleared the scene. This was screwed up. He had a responsibility to go see what was going on.

“Hey, ummm, Paperclip savior? Any chance we could go that way?” the slowly moving clip mail creature started moving in the direction of the police at a slllllllloooooowwww pace. And so Koga staggered off of the metal sea creature and simply leaned on him a bit, they moved a bit quicker but between a thoroughly beaten Koga and a slow bundle of paperclips they were making bad time. Koga pulled the oxygen tank off and set it down, and he started making slightly better time. He felt like he was the turtle going slow and steady. Well at least there were plenty of cops around.

((ooc: Sir Gawain--tell me if I need to modify anything! )

She wasn’t quite sure what to do about her Knight in Shining Road Block. A few images flashed through her high-tailing mind.

Veer to the side—try to dodge him. Too close. Even in his condition, he’d probably still make the grab. Hmm. His condition.

Punch him in the face, and keep going. No no no. Not the face. She liked the face.

Lower her head, and keep up her battering ram charge. This came with a bonus: she wouldn’t see the kicked-puppy look on his face when her hard skull collided with his Cthulhu-tenderized ribs.

Moment of truth. She was almost on him. She—

Was falling. With a sharp pain in her left foot. Falling, huh? Good choice.

She stretched out her arms, and fell right into him, locking him in a don’t-leave-me-with-these-psychos hug. So help her, even if they both went tumbling to the ground, she wasn’t letting go. Maxine, after all, was banking on the Scooby Gang not to hurt her. It was just her camera they wanted. And they could have it, over her cold dead body.

“Sir Gawain!” She gushed, “That man does not know how to treat a woman!”

As for the police: she looked up from her knight molestation to address them hurriedly. “I’m a reporter—Maxine Rawls, Wolf News! I have ID! These mutants are trying to confiscate my footage!” Footage which was, friends, her constitutional right to possess and—God bless America—to edit. But, friends, that had been pretty darn golden without any touchups. “One of them has already assaulted me!” And that, Marbles, was illegal.

The black pen perched on her ear seemed to fall off in all of this fuss: it dropped into the curtain of her red hair, and disappeared. She gave a little shiver as it slipped its cold self innocuously under the edge of her scarf. That tickled. Poe, I love you. The Bic pen was a reliable supply, if ever there was one. Unlike Rex. Who was, last she’d had him in range, still pawing up his new ninja toy.

Speaking of range.

It was outrageous, really, how many ill-used pens and twisted paperclips one could find in the typical New York gutter. She willed them to hold their positions, for now. They were all within twenty feet of her, after all. Twenty feet, taken at seventy-five miles an hour, meant she didn’t have to give away her backup just yet.

>>“Sir Gawain! That man does not know how to treat a woman!”

Tackle hugs.
NOT. Romantic.
Painful.

F****.

For the third time in less than an hour, all the air had been knocked out of Gawain's lungs, and once again, it was done by a damsel in distress. For the first time, it had been painful and heroic. For the second, it was painful and badass.
For the third, it just hurt like **** hell.

>>“I’m a reporter—Maxine Rawls, Wolf News! I have ID! These mutants are trying to confiscate my footage! One of them has already assaulted me!”

Struggling in her grip, the battered knight finally managed to draw a breath, and cough up something he really hoped was not blood. Maxine was yelling at the top of her (unfairly unharmed) lungs, and whatever the rest of the team was doing he could not tell. But the police was involved now, and the media, and a team of X-kids, and half of the city, and him the most, still being under Maxine.

"Maxine..." he groaned, his arms finding their way around her waist in an attempt to keep her from wriggling and poking his ribs more "Jesus Christ, gal, calm down, no one's gonna hurt ya."

With an effort not less heroic than defeating Chtulhu he rolled onto his side, sitting up and pulling Maxine too into a sitting position. "And for God's sake stop yellin'. It's okay. We are the good guys, remember?" his breathing was shallow, trying not to put more stain on the ribs than it's necessary to avoid fainting. He kept an arm around her shoulders. "And I'd appreciate it if ya didn't hit me, I think my ribs are broken."

The police, first stunned at all the yelling and chasing, was closing in on them. Gawain lifted one hand, last thing he needed was someone to get arrested or shot.
"It's all right officer, we're friends."

He really hoped Twyla was not watching.

Cafas watched the heroic window jumper get barged straight into as a black round object struck the reporter's foot. He had a brilliant front row seat for the action. No time to slow down though. He ran the final few steps just as little miss reporter was spewing her little accusations. He threw his axe to the ground and advanced on the little bundle of people. Apparently she and the window jumper were friends. Either way she had something he needed. He was growing rather sick of the mutant hate inspiring news reports. Not that he watched the news that often, but whenever he did it was more hate provoking stories. He offered a hand to the reporter with a distinctly unfriendly scowl on his face, which, when combined with purple eyes, he imagined looked rather silly. In a menacing sort of way. "Need a hand up? Seriously, no need to run, I just want to talk."

'If I get to talk with some arm locks and hand cuffs all the better...'

He looked up to the police officers gathering around, one of them was brandishing said hand cuffs. All looked uncertain as to who to believe. "It's fine, just want a friendly chat with out reporter friend here." He smiled very fakely at the woman. He leant down a little closer to her and through gritted teeth muttered, low enough so only she and possibly the tackle bag next to her would hear. "Reporters like you f***ed up my life once already, I'll not have that happen again." Cafas stood back to full height, hand still outstretched in offer of assistance.

'B****'

The girl fell, Verdy was not sure if she hit her, or she slipped on the mud, or if the appearance of duco-kid had just startled her into tripping.

~“One of them has already assaulted me!”

Oops. She pulled her hand out of her pocket, no need for any more projectiles just now. She trotted up and arrived as the purple-haired captain stood up fully. She glanced at the redhead on the ground. Perhaps it was time to get out the innocent act. She blinked at the duco-boy and looked at the redhead.

"Sorry, are you alright?"

If she hadn't hit her, no harm done, if she had, then it was passable to explain she still had glitches. Which she did. Sometimes if she woke from a nightmare she would find bits and pieces embedded in the walls. True, what she had done was pretty obviously planned. Still, it was worth a shot. She glanced at the camera.

"Is your camera ok?"

A double barralled question if ever there was one.

By some freakishly well-timed miracle Henrietta had made it across the line of vulture-like reporters and cameramen( that had taken Twyla so much time and effort to get past undetected) just in time to scare the crap out of Twyla. Upon the other girl’s arrival she jumped, further startling the bus driver who looked between the two girls with an expression of hesitance and confusion on her face. The only acknowledgment Henri got besides the jump was a look that said ‘shh, I’m working here’ and a quick “Good.”--pertaining to the internal bleeding thing. Twyla’s worries were elsewhere, focused on the woman in front of her who may or may not be their ticket back to the Mansion. “Sorry, this is one of the kids from my school. Um, ma’am I’m sorry to be pushy but I’ve got some friends over there.” She peeked out the window in the direction she knew some of the monster-slayers were.

It took another minute and a few blinks but it seemed like the woman with the curly hair had finally been brought back to the present. “Kids, you said?” She asked while looking at the photo next to the wheel. “Yeah...”Twyla tried to keep her tone somber to hide the hope that had started to creep in it. “I’m sure at some point someone can pay you for your trouble...” Twyla went on as the woman glanced at the photograph for a long moment. The woman shook her head slowly before pulling the lever that shut the door. “Take a seat. Over there you said?” The blonde nodded furiously, relief spreading through her limbs. The girls sat down in the front seats.

Soon, to the surprise of it’s recent camera carrying occupants, the bus was pulling away from the curb and heading back around the park towards quite a lot of...stuff. A police barricade almost barred their entrance but for the ‘press’ stickers all over the mini bus. As they rode past the police officers Twyla tried her hardest to look like a reporter. “Thank you so much for this.” She mumbled from her seat behind the driver. “My son...”The woman started and trailed off. No time for comfort or the like, the girls on the bus had a mission to round up transport for–was that Gawain with some redhead on his lap? She’d been gone for ten minutes and he was lying on the ground again, well sitting actually, but still...hopefully the girl hadn’t landed on him like Twyla herself had earlier–Gawain only had so many ribs he could bruise before they broke.

The bus stopped and pulled over as close as she could get to the group without angering the men in blue who were already in a tizzy about something by the looks of it. Twyla had no idea what was going on, so she stepped off the bus and stood a few feet away from it’s hood awkwardly waiting for one of her people to notice her. She had shot off the bus like a flash, so she assumed Henri would be out of their ride momentarily.



((OOC: Permission to godmod given by Henrietta via gmail.))

Henrietta sat in the seat for a few moments after Twyla darted off. She inhaled deeply. It was so nice to sit and she didn’t want to get up, but she had things to do. Sighing slightly, Henri made herself stand. Walking off the bus, she looked at her fellow Mansion residents. They were all working so hard. It made the brunette feel a little pathetic, but she knew that a lot of the people had had some sort of experience before. All of this fighting was new to her. Of course she assumed it was for others too.

Taking a few more steps, she walked up next to Twyla. The blonde wasn’t saying anything, but looked out over the people. It seemed that the fighting had ended. Police and reporters were starting to swarm near the other mutants. Henri had a feeling that the cops may not completely understand what was going on. The unknown was what usually scared people the most. Unfortunately, not even the girl knew exactly what had happened. She knew that it was a big clay creature and that it threatened to hurt others, but that was as far as her knowledge went.

She hoped that the situation didn’t become even worse by making people think mutants were evil. That’s one of the last things their ‘kind’ needed. People already said and did horrible things. She couldn’t imagine what would happen if they had an actual excuse. Henrietta glanced around nervously. “Great,” she said in a sarcastic tone. “That’s just what we need. Publicity…”

As Saphirus lay there sprawled out in the mud, his body taxed so greatly he feared it would soon foreclose, he began to try and recall a point in time in which he had used to powers to this extent. Sure, there had been a few fights that had drawn out quite a bit, and left him bushed, but this was just crazy. He was spent. He had caught a flying tree, been hit by anvil more times than he could remember at the moment, been thrown across the park, and showered with shrapnel from a huge explosion. He started to wonder if he could have done all of this years ago... If his body would have been able to make it...

The answer was no.

Ten years ago he would have been crushed by that tree; it might not have killed him, but he would have been in the hospital for sure. Now, however, here he was laying down after doing that and much more. Why was that? Maybe he was growing... Maybe the more he used his power the greater his capacity became? Maybe he was just a little bit of a pansy ten years ago? meh. It was too big of a thought for him to try and mull through his head right now.

He took another deep breath, feeling the sweet air of a tired victory rush into his lungs, and then out again. Doing good things really did feel good, didn't it? He felt like he had really made a difference in the battle today; like maybe if he had been stealing a car instead, someone might have gotten hurt more than they had been. Maybe he had saved some lives... He laughed a little bit, hearing the sound of a scuffle off in the distance... It couldn't be anything more important than what he had just dealt with.. the kids could handle it. As his laughter died he realized that he could actually do this; he could be a hero.

Was it that thought that made him feel like something was growing inside of him... Was it his inner hero itching to get out and save the world? Or was it something completely different?

He was too tired to care.

In seconds, he was snoring lightly.

Andrea watched as events quickly unfolded before her. The running, screaming woman was down, the Alchemist was closing in. She turned a startles glance towards Verdi, wondering if she had meant to strike the woman so... but quickly turned it back when the large gathering of police officers and other officials clouded her view again....

and a thought struck her.

Someone had been attacked, in a sense, and the officers around then would no doubt be curious as to what had happened- as well as the fight before hand. Andrea gulped and found herself edging backwards, back towards the tree line and a possible route home. The last thing she needed was any form of interest being on her person... so perhaps diving into the thick of it with her roommate was not the best plan of action. No. She needed to leave. If there was even a chance that someone would question her, ask for ID, then her time in the states would be numbered...

Feeling fear creep up her spine, she turned and headed back in the direction she had come. She would explain to those who wished to know later about her sudden disappearance... If Verdy asked, she might even tell the truth. God forbid she be forced to lie to her friends face. She paused slightly, wanting to run over and try to snatch Verdy away as well, but she had found that cowardice was quite a bit less painful when acted upon alone. Hitching her hood up, she moved off as quickly as her bare feet and wet clothes would allow...

(( Andrea has exited the stage.))

Two new girls arrived, in news van style. Maxine had a flash of instant dislike. Not for them: for the news van. Rivals. She knew, though—knew—that her footage was better than theirs. She was the only one who’d been here from the start. She was the only one who’d been so close, at such a great angle. Now, the trick was just to get it out of here. It wasn’t an issue reporters were unfamiliar with. World changing images often came from the heart of oppression itself: in Photo Journalism, she’d just done a report on the tank man. A convergence of trickery and bravery had gotten those images out of China, and told a story that became iconic overnight.

>> "Need a hand up? Seriously, no need to run, I just want to talk."

Granted that the historical significance wasn’t quite so high, here, but the point remained:

>> "Reporters like you f***ed up my life once already, I'll not have that happen again."

Purple eyes was a Communist. As oppressive to the press as a communist regime, in any case. What was that—an Aussie accent? Maxine, thanks, was an American. The water in her toilet swirled in the right direction, and she was keeping her footage.

With a smile, she spurned his offered hand. She stood, though, of her own effort. She would have offered Gawain a hand up—

>> "Sorry, are you alright? Is your camera ok?"

—But her right hand was still holding the camera, and her left was still wrapped around the ‘film.’

“It’s just perfect, dear. Thanks for asking.” She smiled, her sweetness an intentional match for the shooter’s innocence. “Mind if I take your names?” She started rummaging in her purse: the camera was shoved out of sight, and a little paper pad (spiral bound. thanks.) and a red pen were extracted. She could feel the pen quivering in her hand, but it probably wasn’t noticeable to anyone else. Unless someone had super senses. Freaking super senses. Maxine made to uncap the pen.

Instead, she neatly tucked the ‘memory card’ under its cap, and tossed it as high into the air as she could, as quick as she could. “Go, Polly! Studio!” She shouted. Apartment, girl. She amended, in her thoughts. The pen took off at a healthy clip: thirty miles an hour, or so. It could probably get up to forty if chased. Without its cargo, it could go almost twice that.

‘Twice that’ was about how sweet Maxine’s smile was turning. She gave a little silly me shrug to the Purple-Eyed Commie. “Oops. I’m sorry—really, my pens just seem to have a life of their own.”

Teehee.

>>"Need a hand up? Seriously, no need to run, I just want to talk. Reporters like you f***ed up my life once already, I'll not have that happen again."

Gawain rolled his eyes at Pinky. Seriously? Very smooth, mate. Very smooth. Waaay to make a lady like you.

A news van arrived, with Twyla and Rapunzel on board. Of course. Good thing Maxine was already standing up on her own two feet, getting comfortably farther away from Gawain's ribs.
He could see her pull out the pen, he just didn't realize what it meant. Not in time.

>>“Oops. I’m sorry—really, my pens just seem to have a life of their own.”

"Ooops indeed" Gawain growled as he struggled to get to his feet, and also struggled to bite back a grin. Nice move, he had to hand her that. "Maxine, we need to talk." taking a deep breath, he coughed and held his palm agaist his side "Um, probably not right now."

He just really hoped the others won't attack her. He was in no shape to be a knight.

Koga finally stumbled up to the scene of action, he might hae made it sooner if several reporters didn't decide to start interviewing him. He respectfully declined with a hand on his katana and it worked magic. He was sure it didn't hurt that the bundle of paperclips that was assisting him was extremely protective of him. and so he arrived as a familiar red head threw a pen in the air and seemed way to pleased with her self.

Cafas looked rabid, how the heck did he have the energy to be angry about anything? The girls with the News bus were about the best thing he ever saw.

The police were still trying to figure out how to control the group while not stepping on any mutant toes. They had also just slayed a giant.

"Alright,I don't Know what the heck isss going on here, but we ssshould head home." He glanced around taking count of who all was here and who had successfully fled, he saw Kat and Carrick, nowhere, Calley was gone. Juka and Saph were taking naps.

"Juka! Get crowbar and lets go home! Twyla got usss a ride!"he shouted as loud as he could across the hectic scene. He glanced at Twyla and the other mutant girl and smiled. of course it was from under a mask.

"Indigo, I don't know what you are angry about, but we all jussst lived. be happy. we all ssssurvived."

"Hey pyro, letsss go home. Equally ssstupid you are welcome to come with usss, talk out whatever thisss isss." he made a shoooing motion for them all to get on the transportation that the ladies got them. "Officer, I worked with Captain Lutsss on the Ssst.Clairesss cassse on fiftenth. I can have a ssstatement ready for your people asss sssoon asss you get the formsss to the ssschool, I am sssure you underssstand my need to remove the Minorsss present from all thisss."

He turned around and started heading for the bus noting that his paperclip friend wasn't hanging onto him anymore. He walked to the bus. "Good work tonight Guysss!"

He wanted a hot shower. he'd settle for any other form of warmth though.

>> "Ooops indeed. ...Maxine, we need to talk. Um, probably not right now."

Maxine ever-so-sweetly batted her eyelashes at the injured knight. "Anytime, Sir Gawain. You know the place." He just better not come by while she was actually using said place. A lady's bathroom could be distinctly treacherous grounds, for an indecently minded mirrorwalker. Clearly, though, a knight would have no such problems. Particularly not the Prince of Orkney himself.

>> "Hey pyro, letsss go home. Equally ssstupid you are welcome to come with usss, talk out whatever thisss isss."

"Aww, I didn't recognize you with your clothes on." Maxine grinned, one hand reaching out with clear intents to ruffle Child Porn Boy's hair. "You watch my show! Do you want an autography?"

All mockery aside, the offer to go home with them surprised her. It surprised her enough that she almost pounced on it, before she reminded herself of one little fact: her footage wasn't safe yet. Priorities, Ms. Rawls, priorities. Besides, she was fairly certain she knew where they were from, if they were all headed back with the naked ninja. The ninja hung out with the ice man. The ice man showed up on TV a lot; Maxine would know. He was part of the Grown Up version of this do-gooder gang. She had very clear suspicions about where that group was based.

Another time, Mansionlings. Another time.

"As fun as that sounds," the red head said with a little smirk, "a girl's got to get her beauty sleep. I've got a party to go to tomorrow." Which reminded her: she still needed to buy the batteries for Clark's present. Also: she needed to find Polly. The red pen was likely lost, somewhere between here and her apartment, carrying the battery for her camera. Those suckers were expensive.

With one last gleeful wave, the intern reporter wiped the stray clay drops from her bicycle seat, and made a classily wheeling exit.

~~"Aww, I didn't recognize you with your clothes on."

Koga opened his mouth to break out the harsh suace, but decided not to insult her it was good to. I wonder how many news producers have said that to you?the best insults always popped up when he couldn't use em.

~~"You watch my show! Do you want an autography?"

"Not tonight, Missss Rawlsss."

~~"As fun as that sounds," "a girl's got to get her beauty sleep. I've got a party to go to tomorrow."

"Well, you enjoy yourssself, try not to ssscrew usss over with your Video too much. We did thisss for the good of the city. Good night." A few last quips for the road.

Well what an interesting turn of events. Apparently she was a mutant and had still stood there like an idiot the whole time. Lovely. How he hated the sentient population of New York. Hell, at least the pigeons could be trusted to f*** everything up, every time. And apparently he was the only one not to have met the reporter before. Oh well, no matter, if they refused to be useful he wouldn't, she was pushing his buttons. he smiled back to match hers, a far more sinister look in his eye. Oh how he would like to injure her. Possibly kill her, just to make his point quite clear. No, he still had a moral code. Needless killing was not part of it.

'Say nothing, please, save us the trouble.'

Cafas knew he was going to have some major issues with this girl. They could wait until the cops had cleared off. not that they could really harm him, well, unless they tazed him. He fought back that laugh that was trying to force its way out of his mouth, it was silly. Still, it was funny.

'Don't taze me bro!'

It felt better just thinking it. He let himself get back to the task at hand. He had no way of telling if the camera's memory card was still on her ginger person without violating many decency laws, and as he was distinctly a wanted criminal in many parts of New York and Sydney, he didn't feel the need to get himself arrested. He nodded to the woman once more, let the feigned smile drop back to the sneer of pure hatred as he turned and walked as best he could to the bus. He really did just want to get home. "We gotta chat" he whispered so only Koga would hear him as he passed the lizard mutant's ear. Well, that was the plan, unless someone had super hearing and wasn't letting on. making his way up the stairs with all his stuff, except for his clothing, returned to him. Good thing he had the jacket. He found a seat, sat, and waited.