Players:
Summary: Wyatt and Dallas meet and an impromptu team-up happens.
Date: January 28, 2010.
Log Title A-Science and Battery
Rating: PG-13.
NYC - Battery Park
Located at the Southern tip of Manhattan, Battery Park faces New York Harbor. There are various statues along the paved paths of Battery Park. During the day various vendors can be found peddling their wears to the tourists of New York City. At night the park is usually empty, looking across the Harbor to the Hudson River, a beautiful view of The Statue of Liberty can be seen.
The skies overhead are red with the reflected light of the inferno in central park and the occasional fire in the city. Dallas's trip stopped across the bridge from Manhattan because nobody wanted to go any closer in. Still, the distance was easy to cover at speed and his shadow form allowed him to slip by police barricades undetected. The park is largely empty and Dallas is enjoy the view of Lady Liberty, leaning on a rail overlooking the water. He's dressed in jeans and sneakers with a tight t-shirt over them both and tucked in neatly. His letterman jacket is too hot to wear this close to the city but he has it over one arm. His expression and posture suggest that he's pretending poise but is actually quite excited.
The good Doctor walks up, quietly. There are a few people with letterman jackets around, but Wyatt doesn't know who's who. Moving to the rails overlooking the harbor he waits. After all, he doesn't know who he's looking for. Beneath the labcoat, he's got an odd belt on. Many pouches line the front of the belt. He slides a leg out through it to rest upon the railing. He's a few feet from Dallas, but doesn't know it for sure.
Dallas looks sideways as the stranger ambles up to the rail His expression first brightens at the lab coat and then his brows lower at Wyatt's apparent age. His expression is a bit pensive but after a moment he considers the idea that the good doctor may have sent a lab assistant to escort Dallas somewhere. Reasonable. He clears his throat, "Hey, are you looking for Dallas Gibson?"
Hearing the name, Wyatt turns. He nods quickly. "Y… yes. I'm looking for Dallas. I'm supposed to meet him here, in the park. I forgot to find out a specific location and there are lots of people with letterman jackets and I'm rambling, aren't I?" He asks, looking down a little with a cough. After a second, he straightens himself up again. "Are you he?"
Dallas nods and says, "That's me." He looks around. "Are you going to take me to see the doc?" His faint grin is a bit sardonic as he says, "And man, you get dragged out to play tour guide in the middle of all this stuff? I hope you at least make bank." He straightens up from the rail, still a few inches shy of Wyatt's height and says, "Ok, ready to get this show on the road."
There's a pause afrom Wyatt as he tries to think of a response. "No, Dallas. I AM Doctor Williams." He says, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I know I am young, but please… believe me." He says looking at Dallas quizzically.
Dallas blinks at that. He gives Wyatt a frankly appraising look, as though trying to figure him out. "And you're not a mutant?" The tone is a little dubious. He says, "So either you're a super genius or the world's worst impersonation guy. I'm going to go with genius. It makes my head hurt less." He holds out a hand to shake. "Um, how old /are/ you, anyway?"
There's a deep sigh of relief from Wyatt. "Yes." He grins brightly. "I'm eighteen." Wyatt offers with a nod. He shakes the hand, a little bit soft on the grip side. "I graduated last year with my doctorate. I never took a break through school. As soon as Kindergarten ended, I took summer class for half of my first grade year." He explains with a nod. "And so forth."
Dallas arches an eyebrow at that age and the fact that Wyatt was a doctor at 17. "Wow. Ok, that's genius stuff alright. Nice to meet you. You sound older in your emails." He shrugs and grins at that. "Ok, so what do we need to do to get things rolling?" Dallas seems focused and determined, his expression combining interest and enthusiasm. "Do you need a medical history or anything?" He's had to provide that a time or two in the last, including coming into Xavier's. "I have it on flash drive."
Wyatt shakes his head. "I Have to do my own. Your doctors wouldn't be checking things that I check. I have to learn your body chemistry." He says with a nod as he looks Dallas over. He doesn't have any idea why Dallas would want to make himself better, as he has that jockish look and build, but hey… "And I cannot promise immediate results. It will take time. It took me a year and a half to get success on myself. But with the captive mutants I worked with before, I got something for each of them within 24 hours. Imperfect, but…" He shrugs slightly. "When you're comfortable enough with things, we can go to my home-lab."
Dallas grins and says, "Well, if you are a mad scientist type, no offense, but I think I can take you, so I'm ready to go anytime." He does at least think to ask, "What kind of tests are we talking about? I can't really afford to be down in the city for more than a few hours of time. Well, once or twice I can get away with all-nighters. Past that, people are going to go from assigning detention to asking questions." His eyes roll a little at that.
"Actually, I'm sure I could provide you with a doctor's note." Wyatt says with a bit of a chuckle. "You'd be surprised just what I can do when I put my mind to it." He says, shaking his head softly. "And that's why I do it. They never expect the quiet ones to give them any fight." He says with a bit of a wicked grin before he coughs and smooths his face out. "Sorry. That was inappropriate of me." He runs a hand through his hair. "Most of my tests will simply be determining how your body chemistry reacts at certain times. Stressful times can affect and off-balance everything. My concoctions have to be absolute and ready to deal with any alterations. Otherwise… things can happen."
Dallas laughs and shrugs. "Or the short ones. It's cool. I'd rather you have a sense of humor about this stuff. Just as long as I don't end up with a tail." He blinks at that last bit and adds, "I think that would fall under the category of …things." He frowns faintly and says, "Ah, I guess you figured it out by now but I am a mutant. And my mutation already kind of boosts my physical abilities. Just not by enough to be really useful in combat conditions."
"I had assumed by the way you were phrasing." Wyatt says with a nod. "And from Salem Center. I know a mutant or two from up there." He says with a nod. "Rarely in contact. No worries. Nothing will escape my lips." He says with a nod as he pauses. "And I apologize in advance if I say anything… that comes out as rude. I didn't grow up with many social tutors or around people my own age, so I tend to occasionally have problems communicating." He blushes looking down. "The big problem we may have is that my home is in the Bronx." He admits. "A little ways away. And with the way New york is right now…"
Dallas considers that one and nods. "Yea, that sucks." He gives Wyatt another sort of measuring look and says, "Are you okay for getting home on your own or are you staying at a hotel here in Manhattan?" He can't help it. Wyatt just /looks/ like a civilian thus far. And then, "And don't worry about it. No matter what you say or do, you won't be as rude as some of the people I deal with every day. So long as you have a plan, I can deal with bruised feelings."
"Alright." Wyatt blinks before laughing. "I don't know your powers. I'm more worried about YOU wandering around. I can make my way there." He says, offering a grin. He's actually feeling a little relaxed at the moment. Unusual for him, but Dallas is fairly down to earth. Of course, right when people get comfortable is when things usually go wrong. Who knows what that's going to bring about for him right now. "I told you. I'm my primary test subject."
Dallas shrugs and says, "I merge with my shadow. Armor, strength, speed, pretty much it's like a set of low-end power armor." Why yes, he has been researching his relative strength in the wider world of superbeings. "Which is part of the problem. Low-end. Good for thugs and stuff, not good for actual threats." He looks back over the water, frowning, "So I'm fine. The minor demons are a problem in packs, but one or two isn't that …." He breaks off, still gazing towards the distant statue.
"Hey, are those gliders?" Several dark figures borne on ragged wings are descending towards the park, almost silently, coming in fast and quiet.
"Gliders?" Wyatt asks, looking over before blinking. "No. There's not been any gliders flying in weeks. Not since…" Wyatt says, tugging away the labcoat and baring his arms. Beneath it, he's actually wearing a tank top. Green. Neon green, unfortunately. He lacks a sense of fashion, really. The pants are blue jeans, and the belt with the pockets is grey. It doesn't match. He may need a little help with that. "Well, at least we may get a chance for you to see what I meant." He says, moving a hand down near the pockets hovering back and forth over three of them. "Fight or Flight?" He asks, simply.
Dallas looks back over the few people in the park and says, "Fight. At least until the civilians get out." He puts his jacket on a bench and calls his shadow to him, the ebony shell covering him and only his eyes, black centers with a blazing corona around each, like tiny eclipses, showing any hint of features under it. He takes a look at a garbage can, wrapped in concrete and made of steel, that the park department would like to think of as immovable. Well, in any /other/ city…. He flexes, lifts and holds it over his head, waiting for the demons to get in range. "I'm going to try to scatter them, maybe nail one, probably not. If you really can help, go for any of them that break towards the crowd." Apparently he just assumes Wyatt will listen.
Nodding, Wyatt grabs a blue ampule out of one of the pockets of his belt and sticks it against his arm. A flap of… something moves away as he works it in. He presses gently. There's a very light hiss sound as the ampule is drained into his body. He shivers lightly, grinning. When his eyes open again, they've got a mild blue tint across them. "Speed." He says with a nod. He reaches for another, but he doesn't put it in yet. Just palms it. He'll save it for now. He cracks his neck and breaks into a dead run, running faster than the eyes of any of the nearby humans can see, and faster than most of the demons as well. He's moving to hide himself in a high vantage point so he can go where he needs.
Dallas blinks and says, "Wow!" And then, "I hope he didn't mean that literally. 'Cause I don't want to be part of a demonic after school special." And with that he half turns and hurls the five or six hundred pounds of steel and concrete into the center of the oncoming flock. The lead demon dodges. The two behind him, not so much. There are sounds of bones made for flying snapping and inhuman unholy screams of rage and pain and then splashes. Unfortunately, that still leaves at least four of the demons, two closing in on Dallas and the other two overflying him, headed for the defenseless crowd beyond.
"Strength." Wyatt mutters, popping the other into the same spot he put the first ampule. His eyes are not part blue and part red. As two begin to close in on Dallas, he breaks into another speedy run, holding an arm out to clothesline one of them. It hurts like hell, but he can deal with anything that he himself puts out. His top running speed right now is in the vicinity of 500 miles per hour. So, it's one hell of a hit. If it hits.
Dallas hears the whistling, rushing sound of Wyatt's coming at pretty much the same time the young scientist impacts with one of the demons with a sickening crack. Even the hell-born have spines, it seems. The other is still diving at him and Dallas is driven to one knee by the force of that impact. He tries to get his hands around it's neck, letting the claws and fangs rip at his shadow. A few hits get through but he's mostly protected. His voice is strained as he says, "The crowd. Stop the other ones!"
Rather than just stop there, Wyatt grabs the one that he just broke and begins twirling it around in a circle. He may not have the best aim, but demons are big items and big targets. As long as he can nick one, it'll throw it off course, he assumes. So, after a few seconds, he lets it fly, trying to aim it at the one of the demons headed for the crowds. He can't hit both, so he'll take the one closest to them if he can.
Dallas actually sees that maneuver as he wrestles with his own demon. Literally for a change. He finally gets a grip on it as Wyatt's dead or dying foe is hurled like a scaly, scabrous missile at his fellows. The demon smacks into one of the others, missing the last by a wing tip and it veers at the sudden impact and weight, smacking into a bench, on the ground and dazed for a moment. Dallas rises, with one hand wrapped around the demon's neck and the other holding it by the tail. Using that leverage he smashes it against the railing by the water several times, lifting it over his head and bringing it back down for an impact of demonic flesh and bone against wrought iron fencing again and again. The fencing wins and he tosses the broken demon into the water, turning to see what's going on.
"One up, one down but probably still viable." Wyatt says, looking at Dallas. "Double team?" He asks, grinning an odd sort of grin. Like he's actually free for the moment. Something he doesn't get to be very often. "I'll take any ideas. I'm not too good a tall of this. I'm mainly just all WYATT SMASH." He is unable to resist a bit of a blush at that. He's mainly watching the one in the sky, rather than the one on the ground.
Dallas grins back, not that Wyatt can see it. The thrill of the challenge, even with stakes like this, is hard to resist. He laughs and asks, "How high can you jump? If you can reach him, follow me. Ever see a wrestler bulldog somebody?" With that he takes a short run to work up momentum and then springs, launching through the air like a slice of darkness. His downward arc brings him on contact with the flying demon and he grabs it by the legs dragging them both down. If Wyatt follows his lead, their combined weight and force should have it impacting the ground with considerable, perhaps even lethal, force.
Wyatt really doesn't know. He's never tried to jump or aim his whole body. but with his combined speed and strength, he can. However, his aim is NOT so good that way, yet, being the first attempt. But, even if he misses, he's going to REACH for the demon. He's not perfect, and never claimed as such. Just superior to some.
Dallas is bearing the demon down and it's own a predictable arc, so Wyatt can reach it with few problems. Their combined weight is enough to slam it into the ground below, though Dallas takes a good deal of that impact himself, as the one who hits first. He grunts, shaking the demon a lot like the aforementioned bull dog with a piece of rope, apparently trying to see if there is any fight left in it. "Nice jump." His voice is amused. "Last one." The last demon, being what it is, has shrugged off the blow and is running for the crowd. With the wings folded back along side it's back, it runs on all fours, looking like an unholy union of monkey, snake and greyhound. With very large teeth and glowing eyes. It slavers as it sees fresh meat just ahead.
"Never tried it. Never thought of it." Wyatt says, a little embarrassed, but doing his best not to let it show right now. "You take front, I'll run to back." he says with a quick grin, vanishing before there can be an agreement or disagreement. When he appears again, he's across to the other side, between the beast and the crowd. Technically, he supposes afterward… that would be front. Not back.
Dallas blinks at that sudden burst of speed, impressed. Better living through chemistry. Still, it gets his ad hoc partner in front of the monster before it can get to the crowd and that's good enough for Dallas. He tosses aside the broken demon and charges after the last one, hoping that Wyatt can keep it distracted or get it in a hold so that he can use his shadow-enhanced strength and speed to tackle and slam it. He's learned that subtle just doesn't work on these things. You either have to hit them hard or leave them alone.
"Now, don't I look tasty? I put up a fight. They don't. They're just fear… how does defiance taste?" Wyatt grins, unable to resist enjoying taunting the demon. Perhaps it's all the adrenaline in his system right now, he doesn't know. But he's trying to keep the beast distracted and looking at him. If he has to, he'll run for a tackle along with Dallas, but he'll only do that if it looks like it's going to get away first.
The Demon hisses and the long, serpentine neck darts left and right, trying to dart around Wyatt or snap at him with fangs that drip ichor. It seems to be gathering itself for a leap straight up, perhaps to fly over the scientist taunting it when Dallas clips it, spinning it about but not down, he's rolling on the ground himself, trying to get back to his feet quickly, though for a split second, the demon has his back and those snake-like muscles contract for a hammering, lightning-fast strike that will sledgehammer into the student's spine if not interrupted.
As soon as he sees things happening, Wyatt will try to slam into the demon. He can't risk letting it hurt someone that actually has some belief in his abilities and potential. Someone who finally wants to help him achieve his goals and dreams. Sure, the guy's a kid, but so what! He's not much younger than Wyatt himself.
Dallas whirls around quickly to see Wyatt tackling the demon. He laughs again, even in the midst of the fight. Adrenalin and other bio-chemicals floating in his system apparently. And the surprise of seeing someone he would have sworn was going to be useless in a fight kick some serious demonic tail. As the scientist takes it down, Dallas brings both hands up and then down in a titanic hammer blow to the base of the demon's skull. There is a muffled sound like a plate shattering inside a burlap bag and the demon goes limp. He looks around and with the immediate danger apparently defeated, his shadow flows back to his feet and into the darkness of the night. He bears several scratches, one set on the collar bone where only a quick flinch kept it from being the throat and a deeper set over the heart where talons pierced his shadow as the creature sought to rip it right out. He's smiling though and looking towards Wyatt. "Good job. Very good."
Wyatt's got this weird look on his face. He's just riding the high of the chemicals in his system. AS there's nothing else around, he nods. "Just not used to it. But, saw my dad tackle a Raider like that, so thought it might work." He says, before pulling a pair of clear ampules out of his belt. He places them, one at a time, in the same spot in his arm. That same hiss sounds softly. Each time, when he opens his eyes, one of the colors is gone until he's back to normal. "Ok, sorry about that. I sometimes get… a little revved up."
Dallas shakes his head and says, "Don't apologize. That was awesome. And hey, none of the civvies got hurt." The crowd is watching the two of them from some distance back, still somewhat in shock. He says, forgetting that he's supposed to be in covert mode. "Uh, this is when they usually tell us to beat a hasty exit before the crowd decides were also bad guys. Just ones safer to throw things at." He stands and holds out a hand to give Wyatt a brace up if he wants it. "And your dad played ball?"
Wyatt will take it, gladly. "Still does. Linebacker. James Williams." He says. The guy is a linebacker for a pro team and is fairly well known. "Let's… walk. Shall we?" He asks, blushing slightly as he begins to walk quickly away from the park. "His big motto. Never give up, there's always a way to do it… and prove them wrong."
Dallas whistles softly. "Wow. Cool." He notes that blush and his expression is faintly confused at it, but he follows along, nodding. "Yea. That sounds about right. I call it the wall. Keep charging. Eventually either you break or the wall does. So far it's been the wall." He grins at that and then adds, "I believe in your work now, for sure. That was pretty kick ass. You take any classes or train with anybody to refine your technique?"
Wyatt shakes his head softly. "I… I really don't know anyone. Other than you and the folks I met at the MGH place. I'm… fairly insular." He admits, scratching the head. "I don't fit in. And I don't know enough about real people to have a clue what to do when…" Hell, look at his clothes and it's a dead giveaway. It looks good to HIM.
Dallas frowns and then says, "Tell you what … I'm getting training using what I can do. And it looks like we overlap a lot. What if I trade you second hand training for your help getting me where I need to be power-wise?" He grins faintly, "And maybe help you pick out something to fight in that is, ah, a little more…. now. Ish."
Wyatt can't help but grin a little. "Really? I… I think that'll work quite well." He nods, pulling his card out of his back pocket. Oops. He forgot his lab coat. Ah well. He has plenty. This time, it has his address on it. But he does take a moment to add on. "If you go to the school I think you might. Do not mention me. People there know what I do, and I know… you seem to want to keep some secrets. You asked for anonymity before. I know a few of your people and would like to prevent them from finding out, since you want to prevent it." He offers. See? Someone actually cares about secrets.
Dallas nods gratefully. "Thanks! And, um, yea. I'll do that. They kind of have an idea what I'm up to but not /really/, I think. And I'm not taking opinions on how I should handle my own life and powers. Even from … important people." He stops before he actually names who he's thinking about, either personally or a class. He says, "So, should I wait until this whole demon mess is over to contact you?" One of the things about growing up in the superhero age. You tend to have faith that some time or other will fix every problem, sooner or later.
"If you're comfortable getting there, we can meet anytime. Just give me a day's notice, so I know if I have that day off. Well, while this is going on, they're asking us to stay home at all times." Wyatt says with an obvious eye roll. "I'm exceptionally glad to have met you, Dallas. Very good knowing someone who has an idea of potential."
Dallas laughs quietly at that eye roll. The good doctor has a good attitude as far as he's concerned. He smiles and says, "Good meeting you, too. I need to go back and get my coat and then back to school. I'll, ah, give you a call soon, though. And making it through the city shouldn't be that much of a problem. More of a workout." He gives Wyatt a wave and says, "Night, Doc." He's grinning for some reason as he heads back into the park. Perhaps just finding somebody who isn't calling him crazy for a change.
Dallas isn't the only one grinning, but for very much the same reasons. Someone isn't calling Wyatt crazy for a change. And it makes him feel good. He runs a hand through his hair and just begins heading back home without even worrying about demon attacks.
