Body Horror Meme: with [ profile] allthenos

Jan. 17th, 2012 08:39 pm
ihearyouthink: (62: slightly miffed)
[personal profile] ihearyouthink
Charles isn't sure how he got here, but he very much would like to be out. At the moment he's in a plexiglass type of cage, almost perfectly cube-shaped around him. There isn't a door that he can find, no matter which way he feels along the wall. There has to be a certain frequency, he hypothesizes, that the large robots use to open it up.

He's never seen such big robots before, and they seem sentient. Before he can marvel over them long though, he finds out why he's in this cage. He's going to be experimented on. Charles can almost hear Erik echoing his words from before. "What an adorable lab rat you make..." as a robotic arm reaches through the cube with a large needle on the end.

Charles tries to avoid it but there's not too many places to go in his cage and eventually has to accept defeat and be injected. Talking does him no good, the robots just ignore him and move on to the next experiment. Charles rubs the sore spot on his neck and hopes nothing bad is going to happen. He looks over at the next cage, seeing a new inmate being put into it for testing.

Date: 2012-01-18 01:50 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Unlike the man in the cube, Sam is far less interested in the robots.

Oh, he knows robots. He knows these robots.

He, too, is put in a cube-shaped cage, though he's far more talkative. However, the majority of the words are stuttered, many "no"s are said, almost like a repeated mantra. Like he still believe no means something. Like no is still short for stop, halt, don't, just the way chickens are birds that lay eggs and cluck.

But when it comes to Decepticons, chickens are still birds, but no is not no. No is not stop, halt, don't. No is nothing, because they don't care. If Sam was saying yes, perhaps, they would, simply because it was such a different thing for him to be saying. But when the one human they regularly came into contact with was too young to buy alcohol and wasn't anywhere near genius IQ...of course he'd act like he was: a regular Joe. Just a normal guy. A normal guy who got screwed over by old glasses he was trying to sell on E-bay.

Who helped save the world, and got an awesome car. Who listened to government officials babble about mum's the word, and got a hot girlfriend. Who went to college, only to be called on again. Who denied the call, but was attacked anyway. Who held the fate of the world at the Pyramids, but died while robots were fighting.

Who died, but came back. Who earned qualities he didn't see in himself, who went back to college as just another young man.

Who was taken, again, and crammed into a cube. Who, again, had no words to make things end. And, unlike the older man across him who had tried to avoid the needle, Sam had just taken it. Taken it to stall. Taken it to appease.

Taken it, in the end, to make things easier.

Fight or flight.

Date: 2012-01-18 01:55 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: waiting to come back)
From: [identity profile]
Charles raps on the side of his cage once the robots step away to check other huge computer machines...which by the way, it was very alice in wonderland with everything way too big and the humans way too small. The only thing that fit was the cages.

"Hey, you ok over there?" He's hoping these cages aren't soundproof.

Date: 2012-01-18 02:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
In all his worry, Sam hadn't really noticed the other guy. Sure, he'd spotted someone else, but when he was being manhandled by Barricade of all the freaking Decepticons there were, it wasn't exactly a priority to take in his surroundings. He and the bot had a previous history, after all, and it wasn't peachy in the least.

"Yeah, man, I'm fine," he found himself saying before eyes widened in realization. It wasn't just Sam in trouble now, there was another guy. The hell had he done? He didn't look government or NEST or anything, he wasn't in a uniform, and Sam didn't recognize him from any of the lackeys he'd walked past before or given dirty looks. "Uh...what're you here for?"

Date: 2012-01-18 02:10 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: slightly miffed)
From: [identity profile]
"I'm not entirely sure..." he rubs his neck again where he got the injection. Hoping that cold feeling inside was just his imagination.

"But they seem determined to poke me with needles so there must be some kind of purpose to this. I'm Charles Xavier, what's your name?"

Date: 2012-01-18 02:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"Uh, Sam. Sam Witwicky."

He, too, rubbed his neck, rolling his shoulders. Where Charles felt cold, he felt stiff. He felt like his bones were harder than before. He wouldn't equate it to anything too sinister just yet, perhaps just a side effect of the needle used. He'd pop his back a few times and be fine. That's all.

"So, know about the Decepticons, too, then?"

Date: 2012-01-18 02:19 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: pleased)
From: [identity profile]
"I'm afraid this is the first time I've been...'introduced'." He says ruefully, eyeing another one that walks by. "Sure are big..."

He looks over eagerly, "Do you know what they are? Maybe you can talk to them?"

Date: 2012-01-18 02:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"Yeah, they're giant alien robots from the planet Cybertron," came the information, no sign of hesitation or privacy needed behind it. The man was in a fucking cube-cage in what looked to be a lab run by Megatron's lackeys; he was pretty sure all those signed documents he wasn't allowed to keep records of were rather pointless at this juncture.

"Bad guys, essentially. Ruled by Megatron. They hate humankind as a whole and have been trying to wipe us out so they can claim Earth as their own. As for talking to them, there really isn't. You can talk at them, but they don't really listen."

Even Megatron, eventually, was driven so insane to honestly believe that in order to get the information contained within Sam's mind, he could just rip his brain out of his skull. Sorry, man, but humans didn't have USB ports to upload and log into. It just didn't work that way.

Date: 2012-01-18 02:35 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (Default)
From: [identity profile]
"Wow...sounds like you know them pretty well." Charles passes a hand over his eyes, feeling nauseous for a second. "Any way we can reach this Megatron and talk to him?" Was the back of his hand that shade of gray before?

Date: 2012-01-18 02:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
His own hands weren't gray, but damn were they sore, and damn did they feel stiff. It hurt to flex his fingers, but he was still doing it. He would, he wouldn't give in that easily.

"Uh, no," was the quick reply, and it was apparent that was one of the dumber questions that could have been asked. "You don't reach Megatron, Megatron reaches you. And when he calls you and finds you, he has leverage, and it sucks. Even if you could talk to Megatron, it wouldn't make a difference. He doesn't think of humans as anything but smelling maggots and fleshbags."

A fist came down against the cube, doing nothing but making a dull sound.

Date: 2012-01-18 02:49 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: I hear you think)
From: [identity profile]
He considers that, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. "I don't know, I'm pretty good at talking others down." He could sense Sam's fear about the situation though and knew he wasn't kidding. He casts a glance over at the working robots and puts two fingers to his temple.

Don't panic. I have a bit of an advantage on them...they don't know I'm a mutant and a telepath. I've been trying to connect with their minds, but none of it makes sense, what I can overhear. It was all computer blips, jargon, and confusing symbols that didn't mean anything to Charles.

Date: 2012-01-18 02:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
There was a moment where it seemed Sam had got some sort of jolting from the floor, what with the way he jumped as he did, hitting the side of the cube-cage and nearly tumbling over. One hand went to cover his ear as though he'd heard something deafening and it was all ringing.

Charles, too, would be treated to some more symbols none but the bots would understand, just as he had from the aliens themselves. That, and a ton of stuttering, stammering, negative words, some cursing, and complete and utter panic. Sam's mind had been invaded before, and lots of things repeated themselves, and he'd gone rather crazy...without asking permission or even making it known, Charles had just completely freaked out the only other human in the room.

"What the hell, man!"

Date: 2012-01-18 03:01 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: very serious)
From: [identity profile]
Charles frowns at the onslaught of similar symbols from Sam's mind. Take a breath and calm down. That wasn't a request, Charles puts some weight behind that suggestion so that Sam will have to do it.

"If we talk aloud, they might be able to stop us." He was hoping to be able to start a dialogue that these robots weren't able to follow.

There's a moment where he has to catch his breath too, his lungs feeling a little pinched but it passes as soon as it happens. What is in your mind? It's like the robots, can you understand any of that?

Date: 2012-01-18 03:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] takes a moment for Sam to realize that not only can this guy speak in his head, but he can hear him. The fact of the matter (if it ever comes out) that he's manipulating him into forced calm will be a point of contention later if he ever finds out, or if it's ever brought up.

Having a power is not, after all, a free ticket to do as one pleases in Sam's beliefs. That's what Megatron was riding out on, after all.

Okay, okay, this is just—th-this is just, uh, weird for me, okay?'s not, like, a real thing where I—we, I guess, me and the Cybertronians—come from. And, yeah, I had difficulty with stuff going on in my mind not too long ago, all those symbols running through my head and repeating themselves and repeating themselves over and over again, and, oh, repeating themselves. Ended up having a minor freak out in class and drawing them all over my dorm, and.

It's a bit complicated.

Date: 2012-01-18 03:12 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (Default)
From: [identity profile]
Charles closes his eyes for a moment, seeing the memory as Sam recalls it. ...that is pretty terrifying. I wasn't trying to scare you, I'm hoping we can put our two brains together and find a way out of this mess.

Would you know how these...Cybertronians open and close these doorless cages?

Date: 2012-01-18 03:20 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
He's no good at mental blockage, obviously, but it's pretty obvious on Sam's face if Charles cares to open his eyes that he's not all too keen on having his brain raided without so much as a first date.

"Nope," came the answer, out loud this time. He wondered if that worked as surround sound for a telepath. "If I did, they wouldn't have thrown me in here."

Eyes narrowed as he took in the symbols on the monitors, one hand on his hip with a mouth moving slightly ajar. It was hard to recall, it really was. He had probably lost it by now, but maybe, maybe if he tried, put in enough effort...

Though why there seemed to be flashes of sea life with tentacles and androids was way beyond him.

Date: 2012-01-18 03:22 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (Default)
From: [identity profile]
Telepathy didn't quite work like that. If they ever get out of here, Charles could probably explain that in detail if Sam wants.

He lets his hand drop so that Sam can concentrate unhindered. He gives the side another soft kick, "If we had something to create the right frequency..." Eep, his hand was completely grayish blue now.

"Bugger, that can't be good."

Date: 2012-01-18 03:27 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
His own hand, stiff as a board and cold as ice, lifted to his chin and fingers tried to rub themselves against his palm for as long as they could, in contemplation and out of wanting to keep the stiffness from taking hold even farther.

It was obvious, however, that he was hiding the pain of it. With every slightly movement accomplished, a sort of wrinkle appeared at the corners of his eyes, something like trying to keep from leaking tears not akin to sadness.

"I don't get the pictures of squid and stuff," came the detached voice. "Seems to be some sort of cyborg thing going on, too."

Date: 2012-01-18 07:28 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: very serious)
From: [identity profile]
Charles looked at him curiously. "Is that how you interpret the symbols?" Being a telepath, he was used to the concept of having to interpret images and impressions. He can also sense Sam is only barely holding it together and gives him an encouraging smile. "Its ok, you're doing fine. We'll get out, both of us."

Date: 2012-01-18 07:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"Oh, no, there's a few pictures of them flashing..."

And indeed there were, but very briefly, blink-and-you-miss-them pictures of what appeared to be sea creatures and something akin to humanoid robots.

There was a moment before he looked at his hand, wincing in pain as he noticed that his flesh seemed to be rolling back to reveal growing metal counterparts to where bones had just been. A shout, as per usual with Sam, and he reeled back, stumbling over his own feet and landing on his ass.

Date: 2012-01-19 03:01 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: worried)
From: [identity profile]
"Sam? Sam!" Charles presses both hands up against the side of his cage, worried about the other one. He's not feeling too well himself but he's been ignoring the symptoms.

Already he's breathing a little ragged, trying to get a good breath in.

Date: 2012-01-19 03:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

It's all he can manage at first, but when he realizes there's no pain, the panicking seems to lessen. Flesh peels back more, fingers now metallic and clicking with each flexing movement made. He puts his arm out to watch as it crawls up wrist and forearm to elbow, eyes alight in a mix of horror and confusion.

"The hell is happening...?"

And then he looks up at the man in the cube not so far off, wondering only if he's about to do the same.

Date: 2012-01-19 03:07 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: gray suit)
From: [identity profile]
Charles doesn't know it, but his pink skin is fading away to a more bluish gray, working it's way up his neck till his whole face has changed. He labors to get a breath as if he's got asthma.

" ok? Can you...move?" he asks between breaths, still more concerned for Sam than himself.

Date: 2012-01-19 03:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
The metal hand lifts, pointing across the way to the telepath, his eyes wide yet again.

"Charles..." he said softly, trying not to show the horror he felt on his face. Bluish gray, looking like he couldn't breathe. Being The Terminator was one thing, but not being able to breathe and being a whole new color was right. fucking. out.

Date: 2012-01-19 03:18 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: I hear you think)
From: [identity profile]
Charles looks at his hands finally, wavering back a step on his feet. His skin felt different too, almost tougher. And starting to get a little bit slimy. "Oh...don't know...what they with...DNA maybe?" He almost wished he could be outside this experiment to observe it instead of being the experiment.

His neck felt so dry and itchy, as he rubbed at it, flaps of skin started to split off into gills. That was disconcerting enough to not touch them again, worried that he was rubbing his skin off. Charles sits on the floor of his cube cage, too dizzy to keep standing from lack of oxygen. He felt....he wasn't sure what the word was....

Dry. That was it. Way too dry.

Date: 2012-01-19 03:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
As soon as Sam saw the gills, as he figured out what was happening, he turned to the side of the cube facing the bots, all the while his shirt and side of his pants disappearing. His flesh peeling back to reveal more metallic body to match the arm. Both hands went to beat on the cage as he shouted.

"Can we get some water?" it came, and his voice sounded like it was slightly off, almost like he was talking into a microphone. "You're killing him! You're killing him!"

Date: 2012-01-19 07:38 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: searching outward)
From: [identity profile]
Charles couldn't make out what the bots were saying to each other but it wasn't clear they were even listening to Sam till one was coming over dragging a long collection of what looked like thick wires with him, a nozzle on the end of it.

He slumps on his side, gasping for air he knows is there as he looks up at the top of the force field cube. The nozzle is stuck through the top and a few seconds later, water starts to trickle out of it right down on top of a half conscious Xavier. Oh that felt good washing down his neck! Charles' breathing calms down a bit, just laying there under the stream of water with his eyes closed.

Date: 2012-01-19 03:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
He watched the Decepticon give Charles what seemed to be a new way to breathe, his own body now seemingly half robotic. There was no pain to it, however, just metal where bone had been and no flesh on that side. There was whirring in his direction as the bot returned to his fellows in front of their screens, most likely plugging away data about what had just happened.

His fingers on one hand moved, then the new ones, and the stiffness was replaced with cold. Cold, metal fingers. That's what Sam had now.

He would have been more freaked out if there wasn't someone else suffering something much, much worse.

Date: 2012-01-19 03:43 pm (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: I hear you think)
From: [identity profile]
It wasn't much water but it was just enough to keep him from gasping for air. Something is sliding in front of his eyes and Charles puts a hand to his face.

A webbed hand. And he's just now finding he has a second eyelid. "Wow..." he says, a little gurgly but coherent. "Sam...your hands," he gives him a worried look.

The Decepticons must have found their back and forth banter interesting enough to keep it going. Their cells are merging into one, the water sloshing over towards Sam's side of it.

Date: 2012-01-19 05:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
At the sloshing water, Sam backed up, raising a soon-soaked sneaker and expressing a bit of dismay on his face that now the sock he had left would be wet and squishy if they ever got out.

If they ever got out.

He moved soon after to kneel by Charles, hand going to his shoulder as metal met moisture. He didn't feel it, though. It was like he had just been numbed on that side of his body.

"Hey, hey man," he said, shaking him a bit. " breathin' all right?"

Date: 2012-01-19 10:38 pm (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: worried)
From: [identity profile]
Charles nods, laying on his back. His skin was completely transformed at this point to gray-blue of an ocean creature. His hands and feet had grown webbing between the digits, his gills showing up plainly as they fluttered slightly to try and absorb any moisture near them. He doesn't try to speak, that would use up air he can't spare.

It's not optimal but it's better. How about you? The extra eyelid flicks down over his eyes and back again. ...we still need to find a way out.

Date: 2012-01-20 02:20 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
His human hand went to the side of his head, still unused to the sound of Charles' voice in his head. It was still just as unsettling, it really, really was.

Yeah, we do, but we gotta get you all, y-you know, breathing and cool with the air-thing first...

It was a strange head to be in, probably, all stammering and juvenile thoughts mixed with his recent death and meeting with...robots in the beyond? He hadn't understood all of it himself.

He'd just got back to college, for crying out freaking loud!

Date: 2012-01-20 02:25 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (Default)
From: [identity profile]
Apologies, I know this is not helping matters.

Time for a crash course in telepathy 101. If there's something you don't want me to see or hear, just imagine a door or a wall in front of it. Charles knew to respect barriers in the mind.

He works his way to sitting up, feeling a little better. Maybe it was the level of humidity going up in their collective cage. Breathing was a little easier. He reaches for Sam's hand, the metallic one, to examine it. Perhaps you should sit, I know it's a bit damp.

Date: 2012-01-20 02:28 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Okay, man. And no, don't worry about me, let's figure this out about you first, came the mental reply, though it started verbal. Still, yeah, this was totally something new to him.

He put his arm around the older man, not at all minding him holding onto his new Terminator hand, working to get him to a stand beneath the hole with the water. There was a slight pant to him, but nothing more to show it was a physical strain or anything like it.

"Come on, man," he encouraged. "The more you stay down around these guys, the more amused they are. You can't sit down or anything." It's weakness, they'll screw with you if you show you're tired...

Date: 2012-01-20 02:32 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: very serious)
From: [identity profile]
Charles nods, understanding the implications and helps as much as he can to get himself upright. The metal hand is a curious thing, he focuses on that for now. "Incredible..." he says in a that gurgly voice. It's not exactly an unpleasant voice, just a reverberation in the back of his throat.

Date: 2012-01-20 02:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sam's own voice has begun to change, though only a slight sort of modification to the usual human tone. A bit like he's got parts of a microphone at the base of his throat, really.

"Yeah, it's incredible all right," he snapped without thinking. Any other time, any other time...his quips would be warranted.

But, yeah. Not now.

Date: 2012-01-20 02:44 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: I hear you think)
From: [identity profile]
Being a professor of genetics, Charles did find all of this quite amazing. That these sentient robots had come so far in manipulating DNA.

But Sam is just a scared young man who doesn't need lectures about the incredible genetic changes taking hold in both of them. He needed reassurance. "Chin up, we'll find a way to reverse it. I have quite a few clever friends..." he trails off as one of the Decepticons is coming over to the cell.

Before he can object, the force field is lowered, the water running away into a drain in the floor, and the two of them are picked up in big metal hands. Charles is deposited into a large tank of water nearby, Sam is stuck to a magnetic table for some computer testing of his reflexes.

Date: 2012-01-20 04:03 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Being in a giant alien robot's hand is obviously not something Sam is a newbie with. In fact, he seems to get along much more easily, almost like he's some sort of mountain climber when it comes to giant robot hands.

And then he's stuck to a giant magnet, being prodded and poked with all manner of metal, not at all protesting. he really can't, splayed as he is, the magnetic part of his head pulled tight, making it difficult to even move his lips in a manner for speech.

It takes him a few minutes, but he gets used to it enough, gets enough non-human strength in him to move his jaw. Then, his head, to look across to the water tank.

You still hear me, buddy? You okay? Ain't cutting your webbing or anything?

Date: 2012-01-20 04:12 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: underwater)
From: [identity profile]
If he had any ideas about popping back out of the water, that is cut short when the lid is shut on top, leaving maybe an inch for air and nothing more. Charles sinks to the bottom, instinctively holding his breath....before he realizes there's no need to. Water is flowing freely past his newly acquired gills and it completely eases the burning in his lungs.

But it's a very long moment before he's steady enough to take a mouthful of water in to breathe. At first he coughs up bubbles, unused to the thicker water, and holds his hands to his throat as he tries to get a handle on this underwater breathing technique. It can't be that difficult, can it?

Can't...breathe... A staggered reply comes back to Sam. Working on it... He strokes upwards to put his mouth to the air and manages to cough up the inhaled water. It's a matter of switching over taking air into his lungs to taking water through his neck.

Practice makes perfect, Charles soon is floating well enough mid-tank, concentrating on breathing properly.

Date: 2012-01-20 04:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Yeah, you should, on the breathing thing. Breathing is important. At least, it always has been for me.

Arms are moved as Sam looks up at the bot working on him, one he doesn't know. Red shine to him, sinister face (as per usual), and suddenly a scalpel from one hand and a pair of forceps from another.

Eyes widen, taking in the sheer size of both of them, and then it's nothing but screams in both mind and voice as he starts having his very flesh pried apart.

Date: 2012-01-20 04:25 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: I hear you think)
From: [identity profile]

Charles presses up against the side, trying to see better. As he tries to reach out, he's hit with the pain Sam is going through and it's everything he can do to not cry out as well. Not that the water would carry his voice well.

It suddenly appears as if Charles is very close, trying to hold to Sam's mind and block out the pain he's getting, able to get it in stages to lessen it. Trust me, I've got an idea. They need a distraction, or rather Charles does to get out of this tank. He only hopes Sam is going to be obliging Hold still....close your eyes... And Charles freezes Sam in place, making it appear to the robots that they had killed their experiment before it had begun.

While they are puzzling over this and everyone paying attention to unconscious Sam, Charles will be sneaking out of the tank, splooshing onto the floor carefully and sliding towards the nearby computer.

Looks complicated. Better press every button. And flip every lever a few times, just to be certain. The effect is immediate, all of the alarms going off at once. The magnetic table deactivates and Charles lets go of Sam. Come on, run! The bots will have their hands full as their equipment goes haywire.

Date: 2012-01-20 04:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
It's like being dead, but not at all like it at the same time.

He'll have to talk to Charles about this mind control stuff. It's really not his thing, and—desperate, life-or-death situations or no—it's not exactly cool with him, either.

Eyes shut and still as a mouse. Torn between panic and submission. Subservience and independence. Maggot, boy, fleshbag, and man. Human and bot.

Though, now, a bit more so.

And then, as if let go from Jaws of Iron, pried and pried, eyes flash open and body rolls, half stronger than the other, no longer strapped to the magnetic table.

If there's one thing Sam is good at, it's running.

With one side completely inhuman, it's so much easier to reach out for Charles, really easy to sweep him to his feet or pick him entirely if he allows it. Oh yes, Sam is running.

He's been running a long time.

Date: 2012-01-20 04:36 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: very serious)
From: [identity profile]
The wet floor is a problem and Charles is grateful for the assist. His bones have to be more flexible at this point, he feels as if he might not do well on land so much anymore. He holds to Sam's arm and the two of them beat a hasty retreat out the doors before the Decepticons can gather their forces.

"We have to get...*breathe*....far away from here....*breathe*..." Charles tries to stifle his longer breaths, being wet but still out of the water. They don't know what's all in this place or where the lab is even situated. But hopefully a few zig zag turns will throw any pursuit in the wrong direction.

Date: 2012-01-20 04:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"Yeah, away from here and you in a lake, man," comes the reply, metal seemingly taking the piss out of the wet floor. Still, sneakers are wet and socks are squishing, and he, too, has some difficulty with it. "Knowing them, they'll be in the desert."

He didn't think before he said it, really. Running with a half-seafood telepathic mutant—he said that, right? like...—wasn't exactly the best of times to be talking about the desert, but Sam was young, a bit of a tool, a bit of a loser, and not at all thinking clearly. So sue him.

Date: 2012-01-20 10:42 am (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: slightly miffed)
From: [identity profile]
There will be no suing involved. There will, however, be lots of running.

Charles can hear the large robots starting to move towards them and with them being able to stride farther than ten of their own paces, it would be a losing race from the get-go. We need to find a place to hide, quick!

There's a few corridors back and forth before he sees a door to a large hanger, lots of different vehicles in it. Of course, Charles doesn't know how Transformers can hide, so he's trying to urge them to run in there. If we can get the hanger door open, we can make it outside.

Date: 2012-01-25 05:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Sam should have a medal from all the running he's done in the last few years of his life.

He can hear him in his head, and as soon as they're in the hanger, he pulls him to the darkest parts of the shadows, edging along in those dark parts.

They turn into vehicles, he managed to say in his head, not out loud. Jets and planes and helicopters and things.

Date: 2012-01-25 08:20 pm (UTC)
ext_999334: (62: searching outward)
From: [identity profile]
Turn into...? He doesn't have a chance to get the whole thought out. From their hiding place, he can see one of the hummers split and shift rapidly, all of its parts moving and interchanging until he resembles the one chasing them.

"" Charles breathes out before clamping his hand over his mouth. Hopefully nobody heard that.


ihearyouthink: (Default)
Charles Xavier

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