revivalproject | Rage Caries You Away

The magic falls off of him like one of those stage performances. One moment the magician is in chains, the next he says a special word, has a moment of misdirection, and it all falls off of him like tattered paper streamers. Of course this comes as Tommy is over Tony’s shoulder, and in the milliseconds before the concussive wave hits them.

His arm hurts so bad, he can smell the faint char to the skin from the burn, and when he looks he can see the way the damage to the blood vessels have left a pattern not unlike the branches of a tree, or maybe the shape of lightning, down his arm. Oh well. That doesn’t matter. The pain doesn’t matter nearly as much as there are people other than himself in the path of this now. And if nothing else, Tommy knows how to handle anything when there are other people in danger.

“Well duh on controlled,” he hisses out, trying not to let there be a flash of hope in his chest at the Snooty-Asshole’s announcement that Billy was being controlled by something. Of course he was. Billy wasn’t capable of this sort of thing on his own. That didn’t change the fact that it HURT to be in the position of the one betrayed anyway.

He braces his good arm against Tony’s shoulder, and a foot briefly against Tony’s chest. Sorry, Iron Man, but there’s no keeping a good, or at least functional, speedster down. He easily pushes off of Tony, his strength far in excess of the older but ultimately human man. With a flip he’s over Tony’s shoulder and behind him, intending to put himself between Tony and his brother, even as a concussive wave knocks into them. Tommy stumbles, shaken by the force, and when he looks up... a flash of blue and Billy isn’t there.

Billy doesn’t teleport that fast. Maybe it was always because he had been restraining himself, keeping his powers in check. Tommy was always faster. Except now he’s got his back to the fight even as another blast is thrown at them. At least he’s fast enough to turn around and catch Tony if he so much as stumbles.

“You should get out of here, Stark. You two, Talky-Ass. You can’t handle him. I might be able to lead him away from people though.”

Minimizing collateral damage. It’s the hero thing to do.

Already off balance from Tommy's sudden vault, over his shoulder before Tony had time to realize he had tensed and leaving him grabbing at nothing to try to slow Tommy down before he was any more hurt, and from the first shove of magic at his back, Tony fell back with a cringe from Billy's second blast and was surprised to find himself still upright against Tommy. Scrambling to get his feet back under himself, he grabbed back blindly for Tommy to direct him toward Jon as he corrected that plan, "Get him." They could take care of each other while Tony had Billy's attention; someone was going to have to find out how much damage had really been done in that zap to Tommy's arm, and clearly Jon couldn't be trusted to remove himself from a dangerous situation. Tony would be fine, it was Tommy that Billy was trying to fry, regardless of who or what was in control of him, and if Tommy was willing to stop Tony from cracking his head open on the pavement, he could tolerate Jon in a crisis.

With Billy out of reach, Tony put his hands up in apology for the dental work and surrender as he stepped away from Tommy, trusting him to get out of the line of fire and stop riling Billy up. "Okay, sweetheart, you got him, it's over. Do you want to tell me what's got you all twisted?" he tried, even and low, maybe keeping him talking the way to minimizing the casting if damaging the instrument wasn't going to do it.

Expecting Jon to remove himself from a situation such as this one merely because it's dangerous still equals asking him to leave well prepared meal because it would make him feel full. No, he doesn't like what is happening and yes, he is afraid. But the Archivist remains drawn to the fear like a moth to the flame. Drawn to watch, observe and understand.

And he is far from understanding what is happening here.

What he does understand is, that Tony and Tommy are arguing among themselves just as much as they are trying to get through to Billy, who in turn has resumed his attacks. Whether or not Tony's attempt to talk to Billy will have any effect, however... Who knows?

Tony's apparent surrender did seem to at least briefly halt Billy's attacks, though he looked no less agitated, breathing heavily and spitting up more blood. The question prompted some short introspection. Why was he so angry? He couldn't remember, and that in turn only grew the frustration and fear.

"I can't-....nnn-"

Edited (shut uuuuuup omg) 2020-05-28 19:55 (UTC)

Tony... could probably hold up against Billy for, like, twenty seconds. That’s all the time Tommy supposes he needs. He is behind Tony one second, and behind Jon the next, super strong arms scooping the Archivist to him, nice and bridal style. See, he’s nicer than Tony, he won’t even treat you like a sack of potatoes.

“Don’tfight,” Tommy says so fast that the syllables probably just sound like one slurred mating call of some truly flamboyant tropical bird or something. And he moves. Sorry for any nausea that comes with being a full quarter mile away in less than a millisecond. A lot of people tell him it is uncomfortable, but Tommy doesn’t care. Something about him, about his powers, means that it doesn’t manage to turn the people he carries to jelly, so plus there. Then he just puts Jon right down onto the ground before in a blur off light glinting off of his white hair and a streak of color from his blue shirt, not to mention the rush of wind, he’s back closer to Billy, a hand on his shoulder.

“Yougottafight,” Tommy insists to his brother. Yeah, totally going to get blasted away. He knows it. But he has to TRY.

The flash of colour that was Tommy and Jon buzzing away made Tony's gaze flicker only briefly from his cautious watch over Billy, some pressure relief, letting his voice drop lower as he continued his careful approach. "That's okay, nobody's here to hurt you, it's done," he tried, a steady rhythm that-- fucking dammit, Tommy. A sharp glare interrupted Tony's mantra, his hands twitching from lowering surrender up into a question, what did he think he was doing?, before Tony noticed Tommy's hand on Billy's shoulder. His eyes widened, knowing damn well what was about to happen and frustratingly slower than either of these kids. Physically, anyway. He still tried, grabbing for the front of Billy's shirt to jerk his attention away from Tommy.

"Wa--" Jon begins when he notices Tommy near him-

"--it!" He finishes less than a second later and almost half a kilometer away.

Suddenly he stands alone. His senses catch up another two seconds later and the Archivist tumbles a couple of steps, not sure if he is about to get sick or not. Then his mind clicks back on to helpfully remind him what just happened. And his very own panic dropped low into his gut.

"Shit. Shit shit shitshit shit!"

And this is how Jonathan Sims, Archivist and avatar of voyeuristic terror begins his unimpressive jog back, hoping no one gets themselves killed in the meantime...

Billy almost seems to be responding, almost, though whether Tony was really getting through to him or not is hard to say, startled back into reactionary action at Tommy's touch, growling and turning to blast him away again. His attention is quickly returned to Tony, and with that hand fisted in his shirt Billy teleports them a few feet away to try and keep Tommy from interfering, and a few feet up for good measure, blasting him off and letting him drop back to the ground.

Yeah, fuck. Tommy is thrown back, skidding across the ground. Except, you know, skidding over the good arm, which at this level of force, his body this tired... talk about some serious road rash. It hurts, a lot, and he’s slow to push himself back up, what with the way his injured arm was jarred.

And because of that, he doesn’t see Tony get grabbed. Doesn’t see the teleport, and doesn’t see the man dropped.

The shove back registered faster than the gravity did, the change of light as they were suddenly away and up out of the long, morning shadows of the central square making Tony squint and blink before he was processing how easily the blast had knocked him back with his feet kicking out from under him with no friction. He had barely started to twist, grabbing desperately, with a shout before he was already hitting the ground.

Something cracked, either stone or bone, Tony wasn't sure, but this definitely wasn't the worst fall in his life, he could walk this off, just a second. He grunted, eyes squeezed shut, willing his skeleton to stop vibrating until he couldn't breath anymore through the blood pooling in his throat from his bitten tongue. He had to force himself up onto his hip to cough and look wildly around for Tommy. "C'mon, Kaplan, you're more creative than that," he taunted roughly when he didn't immediately see the other brother, not waiting for Billy to catch sight of him first and trying to draw him closer again into Tony's reach.

The taunting isn't meant well, but it does at least keep Billy's attention on Stark, lashing out with another formless blast of magic, seeming unable to focus well enough to do anything all that complex or creative with it. He comes to land in front of Tony, magic pushing him hard into the ground.

"Shut up-!" he warns with narrowed eyes, and he preemptively throws out a hand cast a barrier around them and keep Tommy from stealing Tony away.

Tommy looks up just in time to see Tony hit the ground. And he pushes to his feet. At least he hears Tony's voice. That's... something. If he can just get the guy away, to the hospital or something...

"Fuck," he groans as he pushes to his feet and starts stumbling to Tony and Billy. Of course he can't get closer with the barrier in the way, but that doesn't stop him from pounding on it. "Don't do this, Billy. Please. Please stop. You don't want to hurt anyone. You're not me."

That assault felt like being hit by a train right now, his whole body sensitive and bruised, pathetically fragile without his armor, but Tony survived it, too. He dropped onto his back again before Billy had to force him, breathing a humourless laugh for his own resilience and tonguing at the blood at the corner of his mouth, one hand barely up to try to get Billy to give him a minute so they could at least make this a fair fight now that he was numb. Fair wasn't part of the program, though. The push into the ground knocked the wind out of him, his smile turning quickly to a grimace, and he had to gather himself quickly to make a grab for Billy's leg to drag him off balance before any more bruises got bruises.

Half a kilometer is half a kilometer. And while there are many people who will argue that half a kilometer isn't that much of a noteworthy distance to cover, Jon will readily remind them that it is still a distance and that not every person enjoys covering distances in a hurry.

Jon certainly doesn't. And he is adequately out of breath upon getting at least within sight of the mess he has been dragged away from.

And it's not a good sight. At least for everyone that remotely cared for one, maybe two of these people involved. Maybe all three even? For someone that feeds on fear, on the other hand, it's a glorious sight. There is... A lot.

Unfortunately, Jon considers himself to be part of both groups and as a result finds himself delightfully terrified. Or terribly delighted? Or... It's complicated.

At any rate, he does try to call out to the trio, call out for them to just stop fighting. But all the Archivist manages to produce at this point is a pathetic little croak. Who thought it is a great idea to run all the way back here? Half a kilometer, remember?

Tommy's plea seems to fall on deaf ears, fists balling up, and as Tony grabs his leg Billy lashes out, hand pushing through the air as he falls back to direct a bolt of electricity straight towards Stark.

There's no attempt to curb the voltage, just raw power, thrown haphazardly towards one of his heroes in a fit of rage.

"No!" Tommy shouts, slamming on the barrier. "Billy no!"

No one can handle that much power to the chest. Oh god, no.

It would have been nice to know why. Tony didn't know if it would change anything, that alien sky still benignly blue above him, these kids who had grown up out of his sight still making his chest ache with fretful tenderness as they threw themselves face-first into too much responsibility; Tony could hear Tommy shouting and wanted so badly to turn to him and tell him it was going to be fine, he was sorry he had to see this. But Tony's eyes squeezed closed, hands clutching numbly at his chest where he knew his heart had seized, a useless rock as every nerve of him lit up in protest and made his back arch in a rending shock of pain even as he felt the sensation burn out of his fingers, up his legs, vision already gone. It was the same every time, Tony wasn't scared necessarily, he had done this enough times to think instead for a second, almost enough to make him smile, that he might have at least been in love. And he had died enough times for the terror to hit like a hammer strike in his last second; he knew where he was going.

He is still too far away when the sudden flash of power lights up the scene, words are shouted, fears flare up - And vanish.

Jon's own cry as he skitters to a breathless halt still meters away is a noise he finds himself deaf to, but he is perfectly aware of its anguish as it rips through him at the reality taking shape still too far away for him to reach. He's aware of the way it tries to choke him while transforming from a painful wail of denial into a desperate roar as his eyes burn with what he assumes to be tears.

But any tears remain unseen behind the now bright green glowing glare that tears itself from Tony's broken form as the Archivist takes the last couple of steps forward and his eyes set on Billy, unforgiving and in stark contrast to the man's trembling hands and unsteady stance.

Jon wants to say something, wants to shout something, but words are beyond him. His gaze, however, pierces straight into Billy's mind. Forcing its way inside ruthlessly and without restraint, commanding the mutant to freeze as he digs viciously for the answer to the question he can't physically ask - why?

He freezes in an instant, mind offering little resistance, and the barrier that holds Tommy back falls away with a wince as Jon pushes his way inside. There's anger. So much anger, but no proper source for any of it, and beneath it all a horrified Billy who can do nothing to stop his actions, fear almost rivaling rage.

Did he just kill Tony??? Is Tommy all right? Where's Teddy?? Why is he DOING this??

And under all of it that damn ITCH, burrowing deeper and deeper.

Tommy falls forward when the barrier fails, and there's another cry of pain as he catches himself on his injured arm. Nope, not alright. But definitely better than Tony. For a moment his eyes flash to Billy. Then to Jon, who has clearly returned. But with the glowing of Jon's eyes and his shout... Yeah, he's got a theory. One he'll deal with in a second. But the first, and most important thing, is Tony. Because there is no way in hell he is letting his little brother be a murderer.

There is no way in hell Billy is going to be a murderer of Tony Fucking Stark, who was the same asshole who had been so quickly judgemental of magic. Tommy won't allow it. His fingers press against Tony's neck, searching for a pulse. One he can't find.

"No. Nonononononononononononono," Tommy mumbles as a mantra. Save Tony, then Billy, then punt that asshole with the glowy green eyes out of here. Just... steps. He can fix it all.

"Why did you have to get involved?" Tommy hisses at Stark, putting his hands against the man's chest to start compressions. "If I have to do mouth to mouth, you fucking owe me a damn car when we get home, Stark. And we're getting home because you're going to fix this planet so I can take my innocent brother home."

Only marginally aware of Tommy's actions, Jon's attention remains fixed on Billy and he takes one, two steps closer without thinking about it. He's much more aware of the boy's anger. His fear. The senseless wrath that drags Billy's confusion and guilt in its wake.

But confusion and emotions aren't answers. Not the answers he needs, anyway.

So he presses on until he finds the irritation. Compared to the rage it almost seems harmless... Almost.

This is bound to do a number on his and Billy's mind, Jon is already aware of that much somewhere in his own mind. Yet he tracks down the itch, moving closer unsteadily while reaching a hand absentmindedly towards Billy's neck. Towards the origin of the irritation - The sting.

His fingers brush against something that doesn't belong there, pulsating in sync with Billy's rage. Without thinking about his actions, the Archivist tries to grab it and twist it out of the boy's neck.

He makes feeble attempts to push Jon out, but his mental defenses have always been next to non existent.

The rage spikes sharply and suddenly as the source is found and twisted, fighting to hold on, and Billy's not sure if the screaming is in his head or he's actually making those sounds, but with the parasite finally pulled free it stops, leaving guilt and horror to flood in in it's place, eyes wide with shock, still frozen in place.

The scream draws Tommy's attention from Tony and back to Jon and Billy. Not, of course, that is he doing anything resembling letting off on his CPR work here. He's got to save Tony after all.

"I swear to fuck, Jon, if you're hurting him, I'm killing you the second Tony's awake. I don't care that I can't destabilize your molecules. My fists are enough to turn you to fucking paste!"

Yeah, violent talk in front of Billy, and he doesn't want Billy to ever thing he's capable of it. But... But sometimes you have to say it.

The Archivist doesn't notice the scream, neither does he hear Tommy's words. But the moment the insect is pulled free, his focus leaves Billy and the mutant as well as his mind is released in an instant. His eyes instead lock onto the bug between his fingers and for a quiet moment the Archivist stares at the creature which squirms briefly, then bursts into bits.

It is then that Jon pulls himself away entirely, stumbling away from Billy with a sharp inhale, eyes reverting back to normal and quickly finding the body of Tony along with Tommy struggling to reanimate the man.

The sight makes Jon's blood freeze and he more falls forward than move on any controlled sort of way, muttering something frantic and nonsensical while dropping to his knees near Tony's feet, scrambling forward from there and for a moment clutching a hand that just shouldn't be this still!

"Tony- Tony!" Jon's voice is slowly gaining in volume. Mentally sore as he may feel from dealing with Billy, his own rising panic at this next part of the disaster keeps him moving. And as he leaves Tony's hand, not without some reluctance, and moves further up, grasping Tony's arm, shoulder, neck. Hand lingering there not unlike Tommy's had and Jon casts the mutant a desperate look before his eyes fall down to Tommy's hands pressing down on Tony's heart.

His heart. This infuriating man's stupid heart... The thought drives an unseen spear through Jon's own heart and for another moment he loses his voice again, choking back a plea as his eyes finally jump from Tommy's hands to Tony's face. Which is, just like his hands, much too quiet... Too free of anything.

The hand from Tony's neck moves up to the man's cheek, the other settles against the other side of his face and the stillness is nothing but painful to see and this time the stinging in Jon's eyes is not from their sinister glow, the tightness in his chest not from the resonance of eldritch magic.

"Don't do this- Don't do this to me, Tony. Please! I beg you. Don't--" Somehow he is aware that he is not going to get any response. So the hand slips away from the side of Tony's face and reaches back down to grasp his hand yet again, his hold as desperate as the tear-stricken look Jon directs back up at Billy, now back in control of himself "Billy... please. I'm begging you- Help him!"

Billy pants, eyes wide with horror at what he's done, chest tight, and he shakes his head almost reflexively at Jon's pleading.

"I can't- I ca-...what did I do???" He's very close to losing himself to panic and guilt, but that begging eventually breaks through, and he crawls reluctantly forwards.

His eyes flit up to meet Tommy's, words sticking in his throat. "Tommy- I- I didn't- mean...god nnn- o-okay. He- he needs-" A trembling hand move to light on Tony's chest before drawing away again, as though he's scared to make him MORE dead.

Rage Caries You Away

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Never shut up you are golden and the bright light in my day

him light bright

You all get to suffer this fabulous Intermezzo

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)