nextgenerationmarvel | Veridian Under Siege

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Veridian Under Siege

Time: 11:00 am Friday
Where: Veridian Dynamics
Who: Purifiers, Vargas, Marcelo, Sage, possibly others
What: The Purifiers have chosen to make a statement, and Marcelo's corporation is the unfortunate target.
Warnings: Possible violent content.

The time had come for the Crusade to make a big statement, to show its power and purpose to a world that seemed drifting towards damnation. The Brethren had made their orders, and Vargas was to lead a handpicked group of Purifiers in an assault on a major corporate power that had aligned itself with the mutant curse. Originally, Vargas had insisted they assault Shaw Industries directly but it had been vetoed by the Brethren on the grounds that Shaw Industries was a virtual fortress, possessed not only of defences but of actual weapons systems that would likely have turned any effort at attack into a bloody debacle, let alone the presence of numerous powerful mutants, but also because Veridian was an international corporation and the effects of the attack would echo beyond the borders of the United States.

They would make the approach by two directions, one from underground, blasting into the subbasements of Veridian and the other from the ground, approaching in an armoured helicopter. The attack from the ground would be directed by twenty armoured Purifiers, men equipped with heavy weaponry and armour proof against all but the strongest of attacks. From the air would descend another twelve, modern-day Disciples and Apostles, armed the same but made up of the most experienced and capable members of the organization, all former military men, mostly former special forces. Along with them would go Vargas himself, brandishing the blade he'd found many years ago, near the beginning of his personal war against the forces of genetic corruption.

Though he was the commander of this mission, he knew that in the end, he was naught but a servant, a faithful slave to the One True God, the Lord of Hosts. He had spent the journey to the Veridian Dynamics tower in prayer and contemplation, eagerly imploring the Lord's blessing in what they had to do. Their misson was to make a wreckage of Veridian Dynamics and seize Marcelo Alencar da Silva as a hostage. Vargas would have preferred that he be made a bloody example of, but the Brethren were wise and believed he had value as a hostage. Getting Veridian, the most important company to so far subscribe to the Shaw girl's blasphemous drive to accept mutants into the body politic to abandon the plans and getting rid of a prominent mutant sympathsizer to Brazil would be victories. He would trust his masters, both Earthly and Heavenly. He was a soldier, pledging his sword for Father, Son and Holy Spirit. To doubt or question was not his to do.

As they approached, they opened up fire against the side of the building. It was then that they got their first surprise. While the Vulcan cannon they used was capable of shattering individual panes, it wasn't capable of inflicting collateral damage. In fact, it was barely doing the job on individual panes as it was. Clearly, the glass being used in Veridian wasn't ordinary. But it didn't take long for enough of the top few floors to be cracked open for the teams to go in, lead by Vargas himself. The security guards armed with tasers and net guns were another small surprise, though the tasers were useless against the armoured shell of the Purifiers and even the nets, while somewhat inconvenient, assumed ordinary human targets or close to them. Knock-out gas would have been highly effective, save for the full NBC protection offered by the Purifier armour.

In the end, the difference lay almost as much in the intent of the Purifiers. Veridian security had likely been organized around preventing theft and vandalism against motley bands of supervillains or mere terrorists, not military-trained men with heavy weaponry bent on making a statement about the enduring power of their faith before the world.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"... who? Marcelo, what is happening." There wasn't even a note of a question in it. She reached towards the secure phone she held, that would go straight to Rachel's office and to the X-Men. Sage might have already contacted them, but be damned if she wasn't going to try as well.

"Vargas. He's here. And very angry at me." And possibly right behind him. Marcelo wasn't going to look back; he was going to move faster. Or as fast as he could holding a phone to his face.

"Stay there, Stephanie. I love you."

"Stay safe, Marcelo. I love you too." He knew he wanted her to stay there, where she was safe. But she couldn't. There was no way that she would permit such a thing to happen.

She made two calls, firstly to the X-Men at the Mansion, outlining the situation as best she could, given her limited intelligence. And then she made the same call to an extremely secretive line in the Hellfire Club.

Perhaps she could get assistance of some sort from there as well. She wasn't about to turn down anyone who could help out the man she loved. Anyone at all, even if it was Sinister.

Stephanie didn't care. He was non-negotiable.

The next thing she did was punch the wall as hard as she could, until her knuckles started to bleed and the adrenaline-like rush of kinetic energy felt like it was ready to explode.

Marcelo grimaced as he disconnected the phone. Actually talking to Stephanie meant she was much less likely to listen to him. The realization he probably just doomed her sat like a boulder in his stomach.

Also, he wasn't likely to stay safe with a crazed swordsman chasing after him.

He put his phone back on his wrist and headed toward a cabinet. He didn't manage to get to the floor he wanted, but he had a good idea his time was running out. He hoped the labs had something he could use. Outside of the chemicals and substances locked in the cabinet. He didn't know the lab code to get into it, but he did remember his own override code.

He tried to keep his hands steady as he punched in the numbers.

Unfortunately, even the slightest pause allowed Vargas to advance onto Marcelo, and while his silence barrier meant he was a little harder to find, it was only a matter of time. This time, however, he declined to play any games.

He didn't want Marcelo dead, but he wanted him disabled and left while he attended to any further opposition. It would be a simple matter, to, with a swift movement, slide one of his blades through the man and into the wall below, in such a way that he would be able to live for hours if need be.

When it was all over, he could retrieve Marcelo and the Brethren could decide whether to treat his wounds or allow him to die.

"An impressive trick with the extinguisher, friend. But one you will not be able to repeat."

The blade slid forwards, faster than Marcelo could possibly react against.

Marcelo had just gotten the lock off and started to open the door when he heard Vargas behind him. He didn't have time to tense up before he had a sword blade erupt out of his chest.

The shock of it kept him from really feeling it. He blinked down at the sharp metal piercing his torso.

"Well, fuck." This was entirely not how he figured he would die. Swords were not bullets. And it was the wrong reason, too.

"The wound is not mortal." Vargas replied smoothly. "Not for some hours, unless you are fool enough to attempt to remove it. Now ... to finish my work here." Vargas smirked slightly and drew another, significantly shorter blade from his back.

"I believe your harlot will be coming soon to avenge you. Perhaps I can make her scream again, only this time you will be able to hear it ..." He sneered and stuck the blade in deeper, so only the crossbar and handle of the blade stuck out of his back, the rest of the blade sunk deep into the cabinet and the wall.

"You should not have betrayed your kind. But in the end, we are all in the judging hands of the Lord. Pray, traitor, if the pain will permit you."

And with that, he was gone.

"At least I'm not a righteous zealot fucktard with nobody to love him," Marcelo mumbled. He gurgled a bit at the sword being shoved more through his body. He looked down at the bloody metal in front of him.

He'd failed. He's failed Stephanie. He'd failed Luiza. He probably failed his father. He swiped at his eyes as he tried to ignore the blood oozing out around the blade.

He numbly flicked a finger against the blade holding him in place. This is probably what he deserved for getting Luiza killed. The woman he had begged to come with him to America so he could have at least one friendly face as he set up operations. The woman who watched over him like a mother.

He swallowed and ignored the pain. It was easy to do since he hadn't felt much of it yet. He looked into the cabinet and at where the sword went through the cabinet. He wished he studied chemistry better. Just he knew these reactions better. But vengeance had always been more important. And more hollow.

He reached out with arms and hands that felt heavy and started moving beakers and bottles of chemicals up to the next shelf. He may not of been entirely chemistry savvy, but he understood what acids did. And he saw some hydrofluoric acid because someone was nice enough to write it out and put little skulls around the name.

He would work on moving the chemicals except the acid. Then he would dig around the cabinet for protective gear.

Marcelo would try the acid on the sword blade a bit away from his body. If that didn't work, he would us it on the back of the cabinet and the wall.

He had to try something. Even if he felt his worth diminishing the longer he lived and Luiza didn't.

It didn't take long for one of the Purifiers to find Marcelo. Immediately informed that he was not to be harmed, the Purifier immediately moved to make sure the man stayed right where he was.

"Don't make a move. Best for you, anyway. Sword's the only thing keeping you from bleeding out right now."

A machine gun clicked audibly as it was pointed about five feet from Marcelo's head.

He turned his head to look at the Purifier with the gun. "Going to fuck up Vargas' plans? Go ahead."

Marcelo was determined to die on his own terms and not Vargas'. He continued using acid on the back of the cabinet and wall. The fumes from the acid were not making him feel all that great. Even with what protective gear he managed to reach in the cabinet. But he saw himself having a limited time left.

Even more if this Purifier was more than talk with his gun pointed at the Brazilian's head.

"... what the fuck are you doing?" The Purifier looked a little nervous about this, pushing the gun a little closer. What would be worse? Killing this fool, or letting him kill himself? Perhaps he could just knock him out with a blow from the armour ...

Before he could make a solid decision, however, a brilliant blue-white light blew out the nearest door, causing him to loose focus on his target, in favor of ... whatever caused that. Not Vargas. A mutant of some kind, his sensors told him.

The acid was not working as fast to free him as he wanted. Which equated to not instantaneous at the moment.

He sighed to himself. He was going to die like a bug pinned on display.

The sound of the door blowing out didn't particularly startle Marcelo. He noted it absently and the familiar blue-white light as he flung hydrofluoric acid at the Purifier's face.

The Purifier's cry of pain from being splashed in the face with acid didn't last long as a pyroplasmic blade promptly cut through the man's armour, the two halves falling off of each other, cauterized by the intense heat.

And it was then that Stephanie saw Marcelo and all the colour drained from her face. Wisps of summoned pyroplasm dissipated instantly as she ran over to him.

"... don't move. The X-Men are coming. They can help. We'll get you out of here." She was amply bruised and battered around, having been shot several times by Purifiers and a significant part of her clothes had been burnt away from when a foolish neophyte had tried to use his flamethrower, but she was all right.

Why was it getting harder to breathe? Maybe he was panicking. Or the fumes made it through his makeshift safety gear. Or dread was starting to overwhelm him at seeing the last person he wanted here.

"You... you shouldn't be here." He hung his head and tried to ignore the tears squeezing out the sides of his eyes. "Vargas is hunting for you. Please, Steph. Get out of here."

"No. Not without you." Her own tears were flowing freely, but she fought to keep control. "I can ... I can cut the blade and cauterize the wound. Then we can leave ... but I'm not leaving without you."

They were going to get married, as soon as he recovered from the injuries. Or at least, that was what was going through her mind at the moment.

"He will be busy with the X-Men." Stephanie decided. "And this time, I'll know he's coming." The idea should have, in fact, it did terrify her, but she wasn't going to leave Marcelo, no matter what.

He took a big, gulping breath to try to calm himself. His chest protested at it. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and grunted. His knees were feeling a little wobbly.

"I'm sorry," was about all he could manage. He didn't know if she could cut through this goddamn fucking sword. Acid hadn't done anything. He felt like bait in the perfect trap and entirely helpless.

She lit up a blade of pyroplasm and began to work. It didn't cut through immediately, not like steel would have done, but it was visibly beginning to warp.

"We'll get you out of here. I'll get you out and we'll get out ..." She just hoped Vargas wasn't going to run into them there. She wished, then, she had someone to pray to, some higher power to commit her fears and hopes to.

But it was just them. She continued to work. Given time, she was quite sure she could cut through it. She punched the floor several times, stopping only with bleeding knuckles, to increase the heat and cutting power of the pyroplasmic blade.

His insides were starting to get warm. Marcelo wasn't sure if that was death or Stephanie's doing. He bit his lower lip to keep quiet as he watched her work.

She was gorgeous, and he really wished he could have a life with her. He just wasn't sure he would be able to with a sword through his body.

Pain was starting to get to him. He could feel the sword through him now. Every little jostle hurt. He just wanted to touch her one last time. He managed to raise his arm a bit, but he stopped himself when it finally dawned on him touching Pyroplasm Lass might not have felt very good.

So he tried to listen beyond the room. As much as it pained him to hear his employees die. If he could give Stephanie enough warning, she could probably make it out.

She knew it was her doing. It wouldn't be too much longer before the heat would become a problem of its own. Making the blade as concentrated, as solid as she could, she put all her strength into one swing, finally breaking the blade, which might have sent Marcelo flying, but for a quick, steady grip from her.

"The rest of it might have to stay in." She wondered, if it was best to move, or to stay where they were and hope that rescuers came.

"Do you think you can move?" She asked him, lips trembling.

As he wasn't really paying attention to what Stephanie was doing, the sudden jolt almost sent him staggering right into trouble. But thankfully Stephanie had him.

"Leave it in. If it comes out, I'm definitely more dead than I am now." Reassurance was not his forte at the moment. He licked his lips.

"Lab coats. There should be some somewhere in this lab. Tear them into strips. I need bandages to keep this in place. Also, remind me not to be a mummy for Halloween..." He blinked a little owlishly. Then he remembered the tape in his pocket. He tried to hold the sword in place as gingerly as he could with one hand while digging out the packing tape with his other.

"Lab coats." She went to get the items as quickly as possible, gathering them up and tearing them apart for bandages. She remembered how to do it from training at Xavier's, how to stabilize an impalement injury.

"You can be whatever you want for Halloween. Even a mummy." She kissed his cheek. "You're going to be okay. We're going to get out of here and as soon as you're able to do it, let's get married."

They could live for that, together. To be together. At that moment, everything else seemed so insignificant and distant.

The fact Stephanie was proficient at this would possibly worry Marcelo later. Right now, he was thankful for small blessings. He fumbled a bit with clumsy fingers to get the tape ready to supplement and hold the bandages against his wounds.

"Why, Miss Shaw, getting married awfully young." He blinked and shook his head. Now was not the time to get dizzy.

"I may need help walking. So not going to make futebol tomorrow."

"No football for you, I'm afraid." She tried to laugh at the remark, but the smile leading up to it died on her lips. "And yes. Father will be annoyed, I'm certain." Maybe Marcelo would enjoy that. A part of her would, too.

Fortunately, it was easy for her to help him up, her strength getting him up as slowly and gently as she could up to his feet. "Don't worry about your weight. Just lean on me, I can handle it."

"Wonder if I can get a doctor's note," he mumbled. Brazilians took their soccer very seriously. He was waiting for another rush of adrenaline. he couldn't feel the pain as much then. Except his body was not being helpful.

He leaned heavily on Stephanie. "Hope Sage gets to Papai. He probably wants to be at the wedding."

"She will. I've seen her in training." Stephanie replied quickly. "She's more capable than the both of us put together." Actually, Stephanie wished she was with them.

Adrenaline? She would share if she could, or the crazy high of stored kinetic eergy that plotted out all the pain. Emotionally, Stephanie Shaw was a mess. But in sheer physical terms, despite all the bumps and small cuts, she felt wonderful.

She wasn't going to go too fast with him in his condition but they could make a steady pace. Now, the next question was ... elevator or stairs? She didn't know for sure if the elevators were all still working, but it'd be faster and easier to keep him steady.

"Any reason we shouldn't just take the elevator? Because I don't think all these flights of stairs are going to be great for you." She looked over at him.

Veridian Under Siege

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