2014-06-26 Hell Up In Harlem
This scene is rated R
Warning: Heavy Violence and Language, Also Disaster Footage
Players: Wolverine, Sage and Captain America
GMed by Who GMed?
Title: Hell Up In Harlem

Rating: R Warning: Heavy Violence and Language, Also Disaster Footage

Moments ago, Hydra attacked Harlem. A number of buildings were detonated. The death toll…Logan didn't want to imagine, but he didn't need to. He smelled it, he heard it…he sensed it, in the air, in the moans and crying and the screaming echoing in rubble all around him. He smelled blood in the air, could practically taste the way it was mixing in with marrow and leaking into intestine, a difference that was all too horribly familiar to him. Instantly he was surrounded by misery, just like Europe, just like the Phillipines. Just like the Trade Center.

In his despair, he wasn't even paying attention to the combined weight of a Super Soldier and a SHIELD employed Mutant on top of him, and the ruined remains of a car underneath him. His move worked, as much as a dumb suicidal idea possibly could, but they were the few lucky ones.

Logan was a survivor at his core. And times like these, he absolutely despised that about himself. His head leaned back, neck bending backward until the back of his skull hit the ruined hood of that car he impacted.

"Jesus…we gotta…we gotta do somethin'. We gotta call 911, or somethin'…or somethin'. Jesus…"

As much fun as a five story verticle drop in the midst what could very easily qualify as a war zone was, there was work still to do. First thing was first, situational analysis. She was alive, and that was a good thing considering the quickly rising numbers of people in this area that weren't. Her earbud… well that was long gone, and the mic was most likely gone as well, destroyed if not lost. At least she'd had the piece of mind, and it was only ever a piece, to holster her weapon before the dive. There were redunancies, but damned if they things didn't take time to make.

For all that she appreciated the pillow-top like consistancy of Logan cushioning her fall from grace, the soft, chewy outside only provided so much give considering the hard adamantium innards. So it isn't a huge surprise, when she runs a self analysis next, Tessa finds several contusions and a few cracked ribs. A fair bargain for her life, but none too comfortable either. Compartamentalizing the pain, the girl rolls off the man and car in a mathmatically superior manuver to prevent any further damage. "Emergency services are here, and incomming. SHIELD response teams are inbound. I need to find working communications."

Sage is a creature of tactics, drawn to the field by a mild form of bi-polar disorder. Without a constant flow of data she just felt naked… or rather felt what a normal person felt like when they were naked. Discomfort with actual nudity was illogical. Oh, her shades! Yup, those were gone too. Damned things were a Stark Enterprises prototype too.

"Ugh." was the first thought to come to his mind, followed immediately by concern with Tessa and the familiar looking mutant who had been instrumental in their mutual survival. He pulled himself to his feet through the ache left in his body from what had seemed like a long pummeling.
He glanced over and noticed immediately Tessa taking notes both personal and general and then he turned his attention to Logan, thankful for him having broken their fall and concerned for his wellbeing. He was alive, that was good. These two could take care of themselves, less could be said for the pile of writhing arms and legs screaming in terror and wailing for assistance. One such voice caught his attention above the din.

"Help! My daughter! She's trapped!" issued a paniced female voice several yards away. Steve leapt into action, forgetting for a moment the bruises he was sure he'd be paying for in the morning. A woman frantically pulled at a large piece of concrete held aloft by a network of rebar, it wasn't budging. He put his head down and put his shoulders to the test, pressing the concrete upward with all of his might. The obstacle gave way revealing the form of a small girl, injured but alive.

With one more immense push he shoved the concrete aside and lifted the girl to safety. "It's going to be ok, Ma'am." He told her mother as he cradled the child in his arms and headed in her direction. Soon the girl was in her mother's arms and they both wept in a blend of horror and relief. "Thank you so much." could be heard through the senseless blubbering and the flow of tears "Thank you so much!"

Steve waved over a nearby EMS unit, one of the few that had managed to navigate the wreckage and get close enough to the scene to respond. Then he took off like a bullet in search of more survivors. He imagined that Tessa and Logan could handle themselves for the moment, there would be time for thanks later.

The lightest load sprang off toward action, followed soon by the Sentinel of Liberty, the American Icon, the First Avenger, all two hundred and forty pounds of dense muscle and heavy gear himself, Captain America. Only when those two hit the pavement was Logan able to suddenly inhale a deep breath of air, feeling the oxygen fill his sore, burning and bruised lungs and feeling the 'skin' of them crinkle and tear just a little from all the abuse. They'd be fine in a few moments.

Logan suddenly rolled off of the car, spilling down against the street and gasping for oxygen. Some time ago, the right side of his face was torn and injured to the point that one could see his skull underneath, and his eyeball was darting around free and lidless. Now, however, fresh skin was starting to grow over, his right eyelids grown in enough to manage a crude 'wink', and a permanent one while his burning, ruined useless eyeball rejuvenated itself. In the meantime, water flowed from the corner freely, the tear ducts all out of whack. He needed clothes, he needed time to heal, but right now, that didn't matter. Right now, he just heard people crying, people buried underneath rubble that the EMTs and firefighters couldn't get to. In an instant, Logan was there, lending not hands, but fists. And from those fists, came six unbreakable, impossibly sharp claws.


And in a few seconds, those same firefighters could start making the progress they desperately wanted to make. All the while trying not to stare at the naked, half-bald, Harvey Hex looking individual with the weird metal claws. That was a mystery for another time, they figured.

Mutants were incredable beings. The next step in the evolutionary process some reports claimed. But for Tessa, it was her brain that was extra-ordinary, not her body. Though Steve's hasty rescue of a child and relative well-being was better news material, Tess couldn't hope to keep up with three… no, four cracked ribs. Winding one arm around her torso to protect the injuries as much as possible, the raven maned mentalist moves toward one of the first responder vehicles in the hopes of plying her own talents to aide the situation. This kind of chaos would need coordination, and that was an area she excelled in.

Logan, which was the only name in his SHIELD file, was listed as a healer, so there was more concern for other than for the man who saved their lives. Gratitude could wait, some of these people could not. "I need your communications equipment." Sage demands of the first ambulance she can find, the driver just getting out to ply his trade. "And your cell phone." She inturrupts his protest with further demands, slipping free a small leather wallet that holds her SHIELD credentials and badge. Good thing that hadn't gone the same way as her blaster shades. Sliding into the divers seat, new cell phone in hand she perks an ear to the radio chatter and begins dialing in the emergancy line. "Field operative Sage. Verification code lambda zero one. Situation is foxtrot uniform bravo alpha romeo. Requesting level one communications assets and full emergency deployment." Oh yes, here come the big guns. You done fucked up Zemo.

It had taken a while for him to regain his bearings in all the chaos. Dust and fire and writhing, black smoke were everywhere and cries for help eminated from every conceivable direction. It was overwhelming and so he put confusion to the back of his mind and focused on what he could do on the immediate scene.

He picked through rubble, sifted through broken glass and pooling blood. There were far more casualties than there were survivors and it was a hard pill to swallow but focusing on that now wouldn't help anyone. He steadied his nerves and dug deeper through the carnage, pulling out the few who were still breathing and one by one delivering them to higher, more stable ground.

Firefighters worked tirelessly to control the blaze that even now threatened to consume the already devistated block. Police and emergncy vehicles swarmed, most unable to move in any closer than the outer perimeter. It was like a warzone and as much as he hated to admit it this was something he was versed in. Time rolled along unmeasured as more and more death was revealed, the blood was everywhere and Steve imagined that the ones who had died in the initial blasts were, on some level, the lucky ones.

Having done all that he feasibly could to assist the rescue workers he returned to where he had left Tessa and Logan to their own devices. He was glad to see Tessa was doing what she did best, calling in the big dogs and analyzing the situation from the most logical standpoint. He had to admit that he admired that about her. he noticed Logan shredding through wreckage in the search for the lucky, or was the the unlucky, few who still drew breath. It began to click in his mind exactly who this mutant was and he was even more thankful now to have this powerful ally at his side. This wasn't over, not even close, and in considering the most recent development in the rise of Hydra, with their new weaponry and their far evolved tactical prowess, he was going to need all the help he could get.

Eventually, Logan got to the point where he helped as much as he could, and despite the usefulness of his claws, despite his strength, at some point he was going to get in the way of the actual rescue workers. And kids didn't need this face to be the first thing they saw crawling in after them. Lungs frequently got filled with black smoke, and even staying low to the ground and covering his mouth as much as he could, it was still taking its toll. He couldn't exactly "heal" from smoke inhallation, although his body could repair any damage after the fact.

At some point, Logan made the quiet walk back where they started, toward that shredded Hydra Ford. He was violently coughing smoke out of his lungs, eyes watering as he choked and gasped in clean air. His face and bare, hairy body was covered in black soot, dust and smoke and toxic stuff getting into his pores and infecting his already existing injuries. That would cause a little pain, not much as it would be expelled from his body, but it was just another thing to nag at him. And there was a nail stuck right in the sole of his left foot. Vital spot, causing an infection, and removal would guarantee major blood loss. Right now, with his healing factor working like it was, he didn't want to add another problem to the list, and so limped on and ignored it as best he could. Needless to say, when he looked at the Captain, he wasn't in the best of moods.

"I dunno about you, Cap, but I'm gonna kill those sonza bitches real nice an' slow. I want 'em to grow more heads. Gives me more ta cut off."

He meant it. He, one hundred percent, meant every word that he said. His one good eye was glaring right at Cap, though it might also be staring through him. It was difficult to tell right now.

SHIELD had arrived on the scene, as evidenced by the Quinjets fluttering around, dropping off responders and lifting out the more stuck of the survivors. Time is a strange construct, and it took a very abstract thought pattern to recognize it as such. To the captain it probably seemed a long day indeed, while to the Wolverine, it was just another bloody disaster in a long, long history of bloody disasters. For Tessa, it was a measure of light left in the day, required materials to continue the rescue into the night, and lists upon lists of equipment and personel and so on and so forth.

Returning to the scene of her savior, seemingly a logical place to reconnect with her compatriot and rescuer, Tess adjusts the headset that looks like a next generation Google glass, but provides an excellent logistics HUD.

"I thought you might appreciate something to wear." chimes her even, emotionless voice from the side, an offering of SHIELD brand sweat pants and a tee shirt in her arms. "Statistically, capital punishment is ineffective as a deterent to further crime. However, since rehibilitation is hardly a question for this perpatrator, I am in favor of an execution." More than that, those emotions she kept so carefully tucked away and showed rarely screamed for animalistic vengance as much as anyone, but logic always won out. Well, almost always. "I managed to tag the plane with a beacon. The trajectory took them toward Nova Scotia, where they boarded either a boat or a submersible. I have the coordinates and a Quinjet inbound to take us there if you want to give chase." Her voice gives away nothing of her apprehension for going off after the terrorists. It was probable that they would be long gone by the time the trio got there, and the ocean wasn't kind in leaving clues. Beside which, though she had taken the time to wrap up her ribs, a physical altercation would see her at a severe disadvantage. But this was not the time for cold probabilities.

It was true that he would have liked to do things Logan's way, on some inner level. This was unforgivable. However, the better part of him knew that there was too much at stake to end it in mere brutality. "There's more to this puzzle friend and until I have my answers I can't let you kill off the competition. Once this story unravels further, let them all be damned. For now we've got to keep our heads in the game, we have a lead to pursue and I mean to follow it."

There would be time for vengeance but for now it was time to use their heads and keep overflowing emotion out of the mix. Zemo would be called to justice for his crimes, Steve wouldn't stand down until it was certain, but there were too many questions that needed answering. "We're going to need a boat."

Logan took the sweats and shirt, instantly hopping and slipping said sweats on quickly, and grimacing and letting out a choked grunt when he landed on that goddamn nail. Blood trickled down, but he'd worry about that later. Still shirtless, and in fact using it to wipe his face clean while his right side burned in pain from the direct contact, he looked between Steve and Tessa, speaking after a moment.

"A bigger boat. An' before that…we need ta make a quick pitstop. After that…I'm with ya two 'till the ends of the earth. We're gonna see these suckers burn."

He held up his fist, still clenching that shirt…and showed them his dedication.


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