tolaywaste | 9. » voice, filtered to INMATES only

[The trust, not only the statement of it but the show of it, makes Ben hesitate a moment, though he helps pull Alex up first. It's been a long time since anyone's trusted him, since he's been trustworthy.

It's been a long time since he's felt trustworthy. But this, he can do. This he can absolutely do. His answer is to turn away towards the door to the CTS, where he'll eventually fetch up against the door while he waits for Alex to let them in - which he stops him from at the last moment, realizing he hasn't ever been in there and where he'd like to start can be done right here, right now.]

The best tactic to employ in a hostile environment, or an overwhelming situation, is to attempt to avoid an altercation in the first place. Vigilance, caution, and strategic reconnaissance if possible. Retreat if necessary. Awareness of the surroundings, where you might end up cornered, where you can corner others.

This is undervalued by far too many, especially those to whom things like strength, proficiency, and safety are assumed. [He pauses, straightening up to glance around the deck area. He's already well aware of the cover areas, the choke points, the lines of sight. He has been almost from day one.] The deck is a terrible site for defense. Tell me three reasons why.

[Alex has his warden item out, a small smooth piece of stone, easy to hold in the palm of his hand, but stops when Ben does, listens to his question. Thinks about it.]

It's too open. There's nowhere to hide. Um. There's also nowhere to dodge to. Too many entrances . . .

[He glances at Ben questioningly. More or less right? He knows he's missed a lot.]

[Ben doesn't nod but he never does. He does shift his weight slightly closer in acknowledgement and expounds on the basic - and correct - features Alex just pointed out.

Ben is pointing as he speaks without hesitation. He's already considered all of this, daily.]

There's a main entrance from belowdecks around that corner, providing perfect cover and escape for you but also a critical blind spot if you're not aware of it; any wardens would be able to escape up the stairs to the upper levels or into the CES and CTS, but inmates would be cornered. There's also the unique and relatively high risk of being knocked overboard, and the extreme ease with which anyone on deck can be cut off from the rest of the ship by blocking a handful of doorways.

Nothing to use as a weapon in the event of being unarmed when an assault starts, or of losing or breaking your primary weapon. The deck is a prime battlefield for people like you, with broad-range superpowers and abilities, but not for people like me, who would need to fight in close range or with the assistance of armaments.

Edited 2013-06-18 20:35 (UTC)

[Alex doesn't nod, either. It wouldn't mean anything in this context; Ben knows he's listening. Not that he thinks of it that explicitly, that consciously, but on some level he knows that things like that are unnecessary here.]

[Instead he just listens, very intently, eyes following Ben's direction. He frowns hard at the mention of the CES and CTS - he doesn't like that thought, that some people might be better protected than others in the event of an emergency, and stores the thought away for later, when they're not working.]

So, besides knowing exactly where everything is - entrances and the rails and everything - what do you do? How do you make yourself less vulnerable?

[Ben doesn't bother assigning any of these facts anything like an emotional attachment; he doesn't think of them as fair or unfair or anything in between. He's simply prioritized them in his mind, and acknowledges each as they become pertinent, as they are useful.

The question, though, gets an approving glance.]

Be aware of yourself, and your own capabilities. Have a realistic idea of them, colored by neither pride nor self-deprecation. Sometimes the best that can be done is staying out of the way of more capable passengers, especially as there are those who would distract themselves from being useful for defense of the ship as a whole in order to defend only a few members of the population.

[He doesn't, here, pause long. But he does glance directly at Alex before turning back to the CTS door.] I can't help you with your powers. But I can help you with other, basic physical abilities that any humanoid individual can perform.

[And of course the finer points of being a paranoid soldier convinced - and largely justified in this conviction - that the entire world is literally out to get him.]

Edited 2013-06-22 03:45 (UTC)

Right.

[Be aware of yourself and your own capabilities - well. Alex tends to fall on the self-deprecating side of that spectrum, but people around him tend to paint too glowing a picture of his own control. Bruce is capable of telling him when he's not living up to his potential, and Erik, sometimes, but Ben is probably most capable of dispassionately assessing where he stands.]

[Alex looks to him.]

Tell me where I'm weakest. Where I should start.

I have my own personal thoughts on the matter, but I would like to see them confirmed or discounted before I can make an accurate assessment. I'd like to see what you can do, now.

[Normally he'd be more polite about it, less forward; but he already warned Alex, and this is only logical. He's studying the door, having never had remotely any interest in going beyond it since its appearance.]

I am unfamiliar with how this room works. Will it be safe to use your powers inside of it?

Yeah, it will be.

[He says this with a confidence he still doesn't wholly feel, but which is a lot stronger than it was a few months ago. He's learned a lot here. Keeps learning a lot.]

[He's pretty sure Ben will tell him he's holding back. That's part of why he's glad they're doing this. Ben, like Bruce, knows how to push.]

Good.

[There's not much hesitation after that, though Ben switches modes as clearly as he had when they got up off their rest on the deck: he slips through the door on cat-silent feet, shoulders tense with wariness, and begins immediately looking around, hands held loosely at his sides.

It's not dark inside but it's not bright, either, the sky overhead overcast and making the world beneath it mostly silvers and greys and blacks. Ben doesn't mark any features at first, merely taking in everything he can see in terms of landscape, hiding places and choke points and open spaces. It takes him a few moments to identify a crumbling parking garage instead of potential cover, a rusted chain link fence instead of a barrier, a swing hanging with one chain broken from the set amongst the other scattered playground toys in the open field to their left. They're standing in a street and Ben cares only, for a moment, that it's empty.

Well. Mostly empty. The transgenic's attention snaps to the sky, eyes narrowing, when he hears the distinct and dreaded sound of helicopter blades slicing through the thick air. He doesn't panic, exactly, but he does begin moving quickly towards the parking garage.]

Come on.

[A couple of months ago, Alex might have been frightened by Ben's sudden shift into soldier mode. He had wanted, at least on some level, to help Ben get rid of it, so that he could be normal, or at least a normal level of freak. But now he understands better, he thinks. This is part of Ben and will be forever. He can be more than that, if he wants, he can add things, but he will never be rid of this entirely.]

[Alex does not follow Ben's gaze; instead he takes in what he can, hoping that he's looking to the right places. He looks for cover, looks for weapons, looks for danger.]

[Then he looks to Ben, nods, follows his command with verbal response. He walks several steps behind, and to his credit, while he's not silent, he is very quiet.]

[Ben is quick to lead them into the parking garage, deep enough in that they won't be easily visible from the street, but not so far as to take them into any danger that might be lurking there. He stops by a column, putting his back to it and with eyes never still in the measured scan of their surroundings, unhindered by the slightly increased darkness; he can see to the end of the level by telescoping his vision and does so, though he doesn't bother telling Alex that.

He can see things moving down there, but not yet what they are around the hopelessly broken remnants of the vehicles that were once parked here.]

What do you suggest? [Ben's voice is low, pitched between the two of them as he twists to look back out the way they just came.]

[He panics instantly. What does he mean, what do you suggest? He doesn't suggest anything, he's not supposed to be leading - ]

[But he swallows the panic as best he can. There is an expectant look in Ben's eyes, and Alex knows this is some kind of test, or at least an assessment of his skills.]

[What does he suggest? He hears . . . something. What is it?]

There's something - that way. [He points in the direction of the sounds.] Not moving, stationary. But a lot of somethings.

[He glances left, right, then back the way they came. Frowns. In the end, he points left; the way is clearer to the left, and while it's not completely away from the potential danger, it's not towards it, either.]

[Ben does not panic. He warned Alex of this, and the part of him that is now and ever will be Alex's friend is somewhat dismayed to see the reaction, but that's for later. Here, now, Ben returns his attention steadily to the younger mutant, unwavering and attentive. He isn't normally given much to verbal cues but now the tables have completely turned.

Ben nods, accepting both the information he was already aware of, Alex's explanation of it, and his tentative instruction. The X5 motions for him to go first, falling into step behind.

He's heard it's best not to be in front of Alex, should he need to use his powers.]

[He moves ahead, trusting Ben to have his back, to look and listen in ways that Alex can't, to have an eye out for danger and to warn him of it should it come. In the meantime, he is fine going on the offensive. He knows he has a type of pure offensive power that others don't. He knows he can kill easily.]

[He'd rather not, but it'd be easy.]

[He understands the decision tactically, accepts it without a word, and moves as quietly as he can, trusting to Ben to give further direction.]

[Ben does have his back, following behind and matching Alex's movement so closely, so instinctively that they might have been tied together with a metal pipe: he goes when Alex goes, stops when Alex stops, and watches his friend for instructions. Which is when it will probably become apparent that no, Ben isn't giving further direction.

It's Alex's show.

The X5 can hear the creatures closing; he even knows how many there are. He knows they should go left when Alex takes them right, but he doesn't say anything, he just covers their six and follows.

There's no exit other than the one they came through, not that isn't blocked by a heap of collapsed cement and metal rods; the second story is enclosed, and the helicopters pass by overhead, the thump and whoosh of their rotor blades echoing in the brittle stairwell, drawing the attention of the creatures upward.

Ben stops halfway through level three, searching for the top half of the collapse on the ground level, agreeing that investigating to see if they can climb down is a viable plan. Unfortunately, the creatures are going to catch up to them, first. He doesn't say anything to Alex. He just reaches forward and lays two fingertips on his shoulder, and stops himself; twisting, he puts their backs to one another, and drops into a subtle, ready defensive stance, eyes scanning out away from them.]

Ready? [Somewhere deep in his gut there's a sharp thrum of anticipation, equal parts inherent anxiety and learned eagerness, but he's steady as his voice to all external appearances.]

[It's disconcerting at first, but it's also a very effective technique. There's no way to get out of leading now, not given that they're in immediate danger, that Ben, it seems, is depending on him and not the other way around.]

[It's sneaky. But he has to hand it to Ben. It's working.]

[He gets more confident the farther they go, getting used to this - guerrilla movements, rather than confrontation. He stops when Ben signals, noting what he's noted: that they can't run anymore. That they have to fight.]

[The only answer is a nod. Yes, he's ready. And strangely, he's not afraid. They can handle what's coming.]

[They're humanoid, anyway, the creatures filtering down at once from the fourth level and up from the second; some of them are armed, pieces of twisted metal pulled from wreckage as well as standard weapons taken from the dead hands of failed survivors. They aren't mindless, nor particularly clumsy, but there are a lot of them. Probably more than they can handle, if Ben is honest.

The point isn't to fight them all, though, so that doesn't matter as much as it otherwise might. The X5 turns slightly towards the group moving up - there are a dozen of them, but if they can open up enough of a path through the middle of them, Ben and Alex can retreat back the way they came. The helicopter is silent for the time being, or at least drowned out by the echoing of their immediate surroundings.

However.]

What would you like to do?

[They're not alive, not really. Alex has to remind himself of this fact. It'll still make him queasy, but they're not really alive.]

[Later, he'll wonder: how long before that justification becomes looser, less specific, more dangerous.]

Blast. You pick off stragglers, we make a path, we get out of here.

On your signal.

[Ben isn't concerned about that, he doesn't worry about justification. They want to harm him, that much is clear, they want to harm Alex; that's all the justification he needs. And maybe that's why he's an inmate and Alex is a warden, but the truth of the matter is that Ben won't let his friend slide too far one way or the other, not like he's afraid of. These things aren't really alive, and they are a threat. There's no reason to hesitate.

Ben shifts another step to the side, to clear Alex's line of fire. He's already watching the edges, watching from the corner of his eye as the opposing group closes, too; he's watching Alex with everything but his eyes, listening and breathing and feeling and ready to move.]

[It's automatic, his step forward. Alex's movements are smooth, now; he's fit into the role, he's comfortable in it because he needs to be. Because Ben is depending on him. And because, whether he wants to admit it or not, this is something he can do. He just has to stop thinking about it sometimes.]

[The new suit is smooth, well-designed, nearly perfect. The whir precedes the blast by only a tiny fraction of a second, and it's quiet enough that it won't alert anyone with ordinary senses. Ben will hear; Alex will be focused on the heat of his skin, the need to aim perfectly. His existence narrows to this one thing.]

[Breathe. Aim. Go.]

[He lifts a hand to waist height, palm flat to the ground, gestures back slightly at Ben, and blasts. The sound is devastating, but Alex doesn't let it throw him - as soon as recoil's passed, as soon as the smoke is clear, he goes, trusting to Ben to follow him.]

[The noise is quiet, and quick, but Ben would've caught it even if he weren't paying specific, close attention now. This is the other piece of data he needs, this is the other ability he needs to witness, to know about, even if he can't help Alex with this part of it; he needs to know the ins and outs so he can help his friend hone his tactics based around it. So, later, he can help in other ways, maybe.

It's like how hard and fast Alex can punch: this is an ability, and Ben will do what he can to help him use it most effectively.

It's in that fraction of a second that Ben realizes his mistake, though. He steps back again, almost instinctive, at the subtle gesture but it wouldn't be enough. Later, Ben won't know why he didn't expect this. He should have. The sound is loud and would be to even someone with normal, dull human hearing. To Ben, it's deafening, and he lets out a surprised shout and falls back another few steps involuntarily.

His ears are ringing, they hurt, but he's a soldier. He's trained better than this. It's his turn and Alex is starting forward, and Ben flanks him without hesitation, striding forward to catch up and pace him, hold up his end of the plan.

Three of them are down and out, done and over; two more are struggling back to their feet, batting out flames and gibbering either to each other or just in general, panicked and angry. The first one to come at them with anything like cohesive intent comes overhand, and Ben barely has to think, which is fortunate: he steps into the overpowered swing, catches the creature's wrist, and twists sharply into the turn he executes quickly, neatly, and immediately. The end result is the length of pipe that had been in the creature's hand is in Ben's, now, as he completes the spin and then half-turns back, raising the new weapon to just about chest level. The downward strike is swift, decisive, and Ben has dismissed the jerking form from his consideration before the pipe has even hit the ground when he drops it.

All in all, he barely breaks stride.]

[Nothing rattles him, not really. He sees that Ben's hurting, and it hurts him to see that, but he's able to put it away just for a minute, just long enough to get them out of here.]

[It surprises and doesn't surprise him simultaneously, the way Ben falls into perfect, lethal form. He doesn't let that stop him, either, lets it pass in the periphery of his vision, and leads.]

[The rest of the creatures are behind them now. He glances at Ben - got it, or should I?]

[It's trickier than he's willing or, really at this point, able to show, to keep his course steady and straight; Ben shakes his head, once, to try and clear it of the threatening imbalance, but he's able to function. The glance is subtle and silent but Ben catches it seamlessly, shakes his head back.

He falls back slightly, taking up his previous position unerringly following his friend's lead.]

[They're able to make their way out of danger fairly seamlessly. Alex is surprised - he expected to have more trouble, to be less prepared. He certainly didn't think he'd just fall into step like this is something he could do, if not in his sleep, then without constantly worrying he's about to mess something up.]

[It's surprising, a little disturbing, but also feels good.]

[Once they're clear of danger and approaching the entrance to the CES again, he finally judges that it's safe enough that he can worry about Ben again - and suddenly he's a different person, turning on his heel and frowning deeply at his friend.]

Are you okay? Did I hurt your ears?

[For a moment, the changeover is somewhat alarming to Ben, who takes longer to come out of the place in his head Manticore forced him to carve there; his eyes click over, heavy and sharp as a knife blade, when Alex turns and draws the X5 up short behind him. It's only a moment, but it's a long moment, and then Ben blinks and something in his shoulders relaxes.

There's no sense lying about it; he reaches up to touch one, carefully but not gingerly, to make sure there's no blood. Glancing to clear the area one more time, he switches modes again from nonverbal to verbal and does not shake his head.]

I'm fine. I should have anticipated that the process with which your power displaces energy and creates force would have some manner of percussive side effect, and the acoustics of our surroundings amplified and focused that particular aspect. It's physics, Alex, not anything you did.

What you did, in fact, was very good.

9. » voice, filtered to INMATES only

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[ Spam ] feel free to timeskip wherever, or not, or whatever - I'm easy

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