The screams, the chaos, the rampant crowd: everything about the press conference gone wrong was forcing Cassie’s memories of the battle of New York back to the surface. Every scream of pain and shove from the other civilians was a jarring reminder of how raw the loss of James still was. She recognizes a few of the Avengers adding to the chaos by firing back at the sniper, and clenches her fists so tightly that her nails draw blood in anger.

As if that wasn’t enough, Cassie found that maintaining control over the electricity that had started surging through her the moment the first shot had gone off was becoming more and more difficult with each passing moment. Moral, journalistic and vigilante-istic reasons for staying be damned- she’s beginning to worry that the sniper on the roof a few buildings over won’t be their only problem if she doesn’t get out of there soon enough.

Of course, as soon as she makes the decision to find the quickest way to bolt, she stumbles upon a man who, if she didn’t know any better, she’d say was doing magic. She’s torn between freezing where she’s stood to watch and running, until she realizes which side he’s on- the Avengers. The rage from only a few moments ago comes bubbling back up, just in time for a group of civilians to land themselves smack in the middle of the line of fire. The new development leaves her torn ( does she help the people that destroyed her life, or risk someone else’s life being destroyed? ), and she looks to the magic man to see what he’ll do.

@manwithwiings

She should have been scanning. This was inexcusable, she should have been scanning or the security should have been better equipped to deal with this sort of thing. This is exactly what they were there for, shouldn’t have been more than one shot if even that one. Emma wanted to chew someone out for this level of absolute disaster, but first they had to actually finish dealing with said disaster. 

So long as bullets were flying, diamond was much more safe. This being said, Emma needed to find someone to help her - this fight could go a lot more smoothly if she could start getting inside the HYDRA agents’ heads, messing with their aim at the very least and shutting them down at the very most. And that, that was something she refused to risk without protection. Diamond skin was far more advantageous to keeping herself intact at the moment, not to mention that she wouldn’t be much use if she got distracted infiltrating minds and got herself shot. 

But, there was at least some advantage of being made of diamond. And if she couldn’t do it mentally, well... other methods were necessary. Emma tossed her hair back and rolled up the sleeves of her jacket as she walked to the nearest shooter, bullets deflecting off her skin harmlessly as she tsked. “Now, now, darling,” her hand shot out and knocked the gun away, grabbing his collar and hauling him up into the air with her other hand. “Clearly, that tactic is proving useless. And you interrupted the good Captain. Not to mention, you’ve now put several holes in a perfectly good Armani suit that was specially designed for me. Overall, you’ve managed to piss me the bloody hell off.” It really was a shame things were too chaotic to get proper retribution, but oh well. “So do me a favor, little man, and stay down.” The last was strangely sweet, her smile at complete odds with her as she slammed his head into the wall. 

@agentmockingbird19

The news hit the mansion like a wave - it’s never like there’s a quiet night at Xavier’s, but the news practically rippled through the house. Left chaos in its wake as people panicked. Piotr tried to get her to wait, insisted that they get a team together and go to help. Illyana let him leave the room, promising nothing, before opening a disk for herself and summoning the Sword. No Dani, no Sam, no Piotr, no Katya - she needed none of them and no one to at least begin being helpful. 

Mutants had enough of a reputation and enough derision leveled at them, but heroes being attacked now as well? Physically, in the press? It was intolerable, certain to bite the X-Men in particular sometime soon. Mutants and heroes, it could easily get to the point where even Limbo would seem welcoming in comparison to the potential hell that could be created here. 

But hell, chaos, at the least that she knew infinitely well. She ruled a realm of chaos and fire and violence. This was her element. This was, quite literally, her domain. And Illyana went to it. 

She arrived and promptly cast a spell to block a few bullets, glancing around for the largest part of the chaos to throw herself at. The woman on the floor getting stamped on was probably a good place to start. Illyana used the flat part of the Sword to physically push people back, trying to get to the woman determinedly and offering up a hand. 

“My name is Magik. You look like you could use some assistance.” 

@roi-de-cinetique

For once, couldn’t things just go according to plan? Could there be no explosions, no surprise ambushes, no indistinct screaming? Apparently not. And, like always, St John found out the hard way. He knew he shouldn’t have attended this stupid rally-like thing—this stupid meeting. But, for some reason, it seemed necessary. Like it was a major turning point in history, and if he missed it, nothing would ever be the same again. That’s how he felt about the first protest he went to—you know—the one against the cure. Except, all that happened was him burning a building down. Nothing too extraordinary. 

The people in attendance seemed to be getting louder and angrier by the second, each spewing creatively offensive insults at one another—and, as much as St John loved to rile up a crowd and get them to their breaking point, this just seemed a little too... dangerous. So, like any normal, logical person, he began to make a break for it, shoving every person that got in his way, or tried to block him. He was on the opposing side, apparently. The “bad guys.” So, of course some kind of resentment was going to occur, but this time it was just a lot to handle all at once. And, in all honesty, the most St John can handle at once is about seven people—only if they’re unarmed. 

Yet, despite his humble compliance, St John was struck down and pinned by an unnamed officer, who continuously rambled on and on about something. Jokes on him, though, the fall rendered St John somewhat dazed for the lecture, and all he was concerned about was the other man next to him. They must have both been mutants, right? Or why would the officers—officers? These didn’t look like any of the officers St John was used to. Like an evil S.H.I.E.L.D, or something. From his short time with Magneto, he could remember them talking about a secret organization that harbored some crazy stuff. And they were a little, you know, bad. Damn, if only he had paid attention. 

Most of the crowd seemed to be moving forward, or, in other words, towards St John. His first instinct was to move—was to get up and make a run for it. But the people on top of him were carrying guns, big guns, and as much as St John wanted to think it, he wasn’t invincible. Hell, he wasn’t even wearing a bulletproof vest. But, you win some, you lose some, right? And getting shot seemed better than being crushed to death. Ouch. Quietly, St John pushed his lighter out of his pocket, listening to its soft thud as it hit the ground, cap flicking open just slightly. With an aggravated grunt, he attempted to get the flame going, only tapping the button ever-so-slightly. But luck must have been on St John’s side that day, and a miniscule flame appeared out of almost nothing. 

The next motions were easy. Freeing. Fun. The small, useless flame erupted into a gigantic ball of fire, easily turning the two HYDRA agents on top of the mutants into a crisp. St John stood up, ignoring some of the people’s terrified screams. Oops. Maybe it was a little too aggressive. He didn’t mean for it to hit any of the people who were just standing there, but man, he was a little ticked off. No time for apologies, though. He pulled the other man up by the arm, awaiting a response. What was the point in dragging along someone who wanted to kill him? Better to just see what he responds with.

Regardless of her misgivings, she exited the convenient store she’d been shopping in, her soul-wrenching curiosity drawing her to the bedlam. It wasn’t all that unusual, especially as of recent, for commotion to occur in the busy streets of New York, but this noise had an underlying rage that made it all the more volatile, all the more intriguing. Malina intended to find out what it was, why it was, and how she could possibly get involved.

A small, though dense, crowd had gathered around several towering robots, similar to the ones that had been previously roaming the streets. These, however, were threatening - and it wasn’t just because they seemed threatening. Screeching protesters spat scorn at the large figures, something that made her pulse try to reverberate its way out of her skin. If she was subject to anything, it was mob mentality.