TITLE: Fire In The Sky (or "It's Not Supposed to Do That, Is It?")
WHO: Pietro, Jean, Remy, Tyson, Mordant @emitting
WHEN: May 5, 2009
WHAT: A crowd congregates in Central Park to see the meteor shower... and gets
something they didn't bargain for.
RATING: PG-13


Central Park - Manhattan

Central Park is an oasis of green in the middle of New York City with over 800
acres of
scenic views, playgrounds and ponds. It's a great place to take a break from the
busy city,
as there are bike and jogging trails, athletic fields, and even a boathouse. The
recently
restored Wollman Rink is the top choice skating environment. Bethesda Fountain
is located
by the Mall and near the lake, while the Water Conservatory also make its mark
in the
vicinity. The most esteemed place of interest though, usually is none other than
the
Belvedere Castle.

--

The sun's gone down on Central Park. It being a Friday night, and still
comparatively early,
this means there's still plenty of people around; there's a group of musicians
off to one
side playing calypso music, steel drums echoing. A handful of Haitian teenagers
are
dancing together; one girl in particular is very striking with long dreadlocks
and a hot pink
ragged-edge skirt and blouse that flares out with each twist and turn.
The hot dog vendors are doing a brisk trade, selling everything from their
actual
trademark hot dogs, paper trays of nachos, to cold sodas and watered-down but
equally
cold beer, and a hustler's set up a three-card monte on a collapsing table while
someone
who could be his brother's selling 'real, genuine Rolex watches' right across
the way. But
it's the scheduled meteor shower that's drawn people out in force; there's
easily a couple
dozen blankets laid out on the grass, watching the sky in anticipation. "Is it
starting yet?
When's it starting?" "This isn't a movie, it isn't going to just happen on
schedule to the
minute!"

Hands tucked in his pockets, Pietro seems rather oblivious to the cause of the
anticipation
this evening, apparently interested in the dancing youths over the forecasted
shower as he
passes through the park. As he passes the multitude of blankets, he casts a
curious eye to
those sprawled upon them. "What th' hell's going on?" The question isn't
directed at
anyone in particular, but it's just loud enough to be audible to any in his
immediate
vicinity. Perhaps he's simply been living in a cave for the past week or so.
Finally pausing
midway down the path he's been following, he glances over the various faces
gathered on
the lawn. "Hm." With a shrug and a slightly furrowed brow, he follows their gaze
upward to
the heavens, though he knows not for what.

Tyson has once again wandered away from the school for the weekend. He's staying
at his
brother's place, but right now the elder Barker is absent and Tyson is walking
the dark
paths of the park alone. He's decided to come see the astrological wonder that
is
supposed to rain down tonight. As he walks through the paths he sees Pietro and
instantly
recognises him. He waves in his direction if he looks his way and stops at a
park bench to
take a seat.

Word of mouth and television promotions has reached Remy. He could be out doing
something else tonight, but with convincing of others that he knew were going to
be out,
he decided to make his way to Central Park for the meteor shower. They don't
tend to
happen everyday anyway. At least thats what others said to him. Unlike the rest
of them,
he's not prepared with a blanket or radio. With only a beer in his hand and
cigarette in the
other, he idly leans by one of the smaller trees on the manicured lawn for the
meteor show
to start.

Somewhere in the area, Jean Grey is sitting on another bench, denim blazer
buttoned up,
and a cell phone pressed close to one ear as she tries with limited success to
get her
message across to the person on the other end. "So you're not coming out? Not
even for a
beer?" She makes a face at whatever is said in response, and the conversation
continues
until a conclusion is reached. There's no way the ex-colleague and friend can
make the
show.

"Right. No, it's no problem... Talk to you soon, un-hunh." The cell phone is
closed with a
quiet 'slap', then tucked into her pocket. She's a little perturbed for a minute
or two, but
the expression of her face turns to contemplative as she surveys her
surroundings, Tyson
passing out of her direct line of sight before the student is noticed. "Already
here," she
says under her breath decidedly. "So I'm sticking around." And she leans back
into the
bench, arms folding. Waiting.

Above, there's the wink and glimmer of light as - well, it could be the
beginning of the
meteor shower starting? It gets a cheer from the assembled spectators. Yes! The
meteor
shower's begun. Little trails streak across the night sky, arcing in a bow
towards the
horizon. The calypso band's still playing, though slower now; the dancers have
stopped,
turning to peer upwards at the sky.
Which means there's plenty of people on hand to notice when about a dozen specks
break
off from the meteor shower, and start hurtling towards earth in an entirely
different and
only somewhat erratic pattern...

It's a long moment before Pietro looks back down to Earth, but when he does, he
manages
to catch Tyson's wave. With another look to the crowd on the grass, he starts
casually
toward the other boy. "Hey," is offered in what passes for a greeting once he
reaches the
table. "Y'know what's got everybody's panties inna bunch t'ni--?" He cuts
himself off
abruptly, however, as the crowd cheers. Looking up instinctively, he watches the
show,
raising his eyebrows a little as the meteors begin to streak across the sky.
"Oh. Right.
Nevermind." He shifts his gaze briefly to Tyson... but when he looks back,
there's
something markedly different about the show. "Hey," he points to the renegade
sparks, "...
'S it supposed t' do that?"

Tyson looks over at the other kid and smiles. He pats the seat next to him and
then turns
his gaze to the sky to watch the stars fly across space, leaving streaks of
light in their
wake. "It's the show, man. Don't you watch the news?" He smirks and then after a
moment
his lips turn down in a frown and he purses his lips. "You know, I don't think
so." Slowly,
he stands from the bench, as if to get a closer look at the falling pieces of
space rock.

Never seeing a meteor shower before, when the glimmers of light actually do
appear,
Remy takes a puff on his cigarette and gazes upwards at them in silence as he
takes in the
entire sight before him. For a moment, his gaze wanders to a couple that point
upwards
with a concerned look upon their faces. Returning his eyes upwards, he sees the
way that
the pieces are flying towards the earth. The Cajun's brow furrows as he doesn't
quite know
what to make of the situation.

Jean's attention is drawn to the light in the sky as the spectators begin to
cheer. Tilting
and craning her neck, she's quick to find the source of excitement. Although she
doesn't
add her own voice to the shouts of approval, she watches the display above, her
attention
stolen. But the interest on her face is replaced by mouth-parting surprise as
the specks
begin to tumble. Tumbling... down? She stands, the movement more instinctive
than
purposeful, and continues to watch, shoes rooted to the ground.

Nothing natural can move in that pattern; the almost thirty glowing dots swoop
and soar
as easily as birds, speeding directly towards the park. They move faster than
the eye can
really track, then come to a sudden halt about twenty yards above. Six figures
'stand' on
the air, each with five glowing balls circling them. They're vaguely humanoid,
but noone
would easily mistake them for anything but alien ... or mutant.
Four of them are male, with two females. One of the males has silver skin, blue
hair
curling against his forehead, eyes pupilless and yellow. He wears a pair of
black trousers
of some sort, and similar tunic. He says nothing, looking down upon the gathered
people.
One of the two females, a woman with purple skin and hair, looks down - and then
swoops down, towards the dancer in pink, hovering there.
There are shrieks and sounds of concern and terror from the audience, but noone
seems
quite willing to run first. The girl in pink draws back fearfully; the purple
alien says
something in a strange, tonal language, apparently a question; and then extends
a hand
towards the girl.

"Not unless there's somethin' better on, I don't," Pietro answers Tyson with a
slow grin.
He's not looking at the boy, however, and fails to notice the pat on the seat.
Still standing,
he narrows his eyes, barely registering that the other teen is now standing
beside him.
"Holy-shit," is the breathless 'speed-speak' exclamation that escapes as the
aliens,
mutants - what-ever-they-are - appear and the punk takes an instinctive step
back,
bumping into the bench and almost falling back on it. "I /know/ that ain't
supposed t'
happen." Though his features are etched with confusion, concern - even a hint of
fear
roiling beneath it all - he doesn't make any motion to flee. Instead, he steps
forward a
couple paces, hoping to get a better look at the visitors. "If it is, maybe I
/should/ start
watchin' th' news..."

When Pietro steps back and bumps into the bench, Tyson steps forward. This may
not be
the smartest thing to do, but he doesn't feel like moving back would put him at
any safer a
distance. He stares at the strange creatures hovering in the air and cross his
arms over his
chest. "Nope. Not supposed to happen. Those things definitely don't look like
meteors." He
turns to Pietro when he says this and when he finishes he turns back to the sky.
"Um,
hello? Just who might you all be?" He waves his hand in the air as if it will
easily gain the
attention of the extraterrestrials.

With eyes still locked on the sky, Remy sees the figures appear from the heavens
and take
to hovering above the crowd. Dark words escape his mouth in french as the
cigarette falls
from his lips and falls to the grass at his feet. Pressing himself more firmly
into the tree
that he is leaning against, all that the Cajun can hope for at this point is
that he won't be
seen from their vantage point and that they won't start running around the park,
evaporating people with phaser guns like they always do in the movies.

Witnessing this latest spectacle, the redhead woman remains standing -right-
where she
is, flabbergasted and alarmed. And it's because of this immobilization that, her
eyes
pinching, and her body language too apparently dumbstruck, she doesn't
immediately give
her attention to a vaguely familiar voice. Nor does she immediately turn to spot
the source
of the voice. But when it -does- register that Tyson, present at the park, and
is drawing
attention to himself, she hastily tracks his location, jaw dropping slightly.
Torn between
movement and staying put to see what happens next, she keeps one eye on the
student
and one eye on the - mutant? alien? - extending a hand toward the girl, focus
divided.

Apparently, the male above speaks no more English than the purple female. Tyson
receives a blank look of incomprehension, and then an answer in a fluid voice
which
sounds like nothing so much as musical notes. Flute, perhaps; maybe piano, or
harpsichord, or - something. He holds out a hand and one of the spheres rotating
around
him lowers towards Tyson; a lambent blue flame, it looks like, moving gradually
towards
the young man's extended hand.
Hesitantly, the girl in pink allows the purple-haired woman to take her hand.
Nothing
immediately happens; then, gradually, her rich chocolate-colored skin starts to
change
color. As does her hair... until her hair and skin match perfectly the color of
her clothes.
She screams, yanking her hand away and flailing backwards.

Finally prying his eyes from the being hovering above, Pietro blinks as he
realizes what the
other teen is doing. "Are-you-/nuts/, man?" The words are hastily spit out as he
splits his
attention between Tyson and the 'aliens'; he has no inclination to slow his
speech now. No
there are far more pressing matters that deserve his attention. Namely the flame
drifting
in his general direction. Eyes widen, drawn to the girl by her scream and the
boy shakes
his head in disbelief. "Get-th'-hell-/back/," he barks to the other young man.
After all, he
certainly is; as the blue light nears, he gives it a wide berth, not seeming
able to tear his
eyes from it now.

Tyson's hand starts to wave away the blue fireball that starts getting closer
and closer to
him. He isn't about to be incinerated for just trying to talk to these things.
He staggers
backwards and starts to climb the bench, up and over the back. He lands on the
other side
and ducks behind the bench. "Hey! Yo, I'm only saying." He looks at Pietro and
frowns,
then looks back at the people of the stars. "Hey. This is not how we earth
people converse.
We talk! We do not use fireballs! You figured out interstellar travel. How could
you not
have figured *that* out?" Well he really does not know how to keep his mouth
shut, does
he?

Eyes close for a moment as Remy hopes to possibly get out of the area without
being
seen. When the strange musical-like sounds are heard though, those eyes open and
gaze
in the direction of the male - thing - He also spots Pietro backing away with
another
person that he doesn't recognize. Then that scream. The Cajun jumps a bit
against the
tree and then slowly he gazes around the tree trunk and sees the girl in pink
change. Eyes
widen as his knees start to feel weak for a moment and he mutters, while still
clinging
onto that tree, "We're fucked ..."

Jean's jaw drops even more as the sphere lowers toward Tyson. If it's possible.
Sound
finally comes out, low and constrained. "-Damn- that boy." Somebody's getting a
talking
to later, providing there is a later. But before she can do or say anything
else, there's the
scream from the girl whom the thing was extending a hand toward. There's a
visible start
in the woman as she swivels her gaze to the girl fully, losing sight of Tyson.
Her eyes
widen instantly, seeing the.... pinkness. The situation has just gotten weirder.
A bottom lip
is bit restlessly, worriedly, and the eyes return to their normal size.

There is no heat to the flame, which continues to head towards Tyson - it might
look like
fire, but it doesn't behave like fire. The man in the sky says something again
in that
musical voice.
The purple woman's eyes widen; perhaps where she's from, this is normal. She
seems
startled by the girl's scream, though, for she takes flight again, almost
leaping back
upwards towards the other four. Her five spheres, perhaps in her startlement,
scatter,
flying aimlessly through the crowd. In some cases - literally through the crowd.

"Dude-really," Pietro says with a twinge of impatience growing in his tone.
Finally, he looks
to see what's become of Tyson, moving a little further yet. "I'm no expert, but
I'm thinkin'
talkin' t' these things /ain't/ gonna help." Tough talk aside, it's obvious that
the boy /is/
frightened, insofar as fear registers amidst his lingering shock. He gives a
little yelp of
surprise as the spheres take off, flattening himself against the ground as one
passes low
over his head.

Step by step Tyson makes his way farther back away from the fire. It may not be
hot, but it
sure as hell is scary. "Ok, ok, ok. I'll shut up just don't come nearer. I mean
it!" He starts to
get scared, and that causes the street lamp nearby to starts to start to blink
on and off as
if losing power and gaining it back within seconds...over and over again.

When the purple woman pulls away and returns to the others in the air, a small
wave of
relief washes over Remy. But then the orbs fly out, an one of them towards him.
Quickly,
he ducks low towards the grass and spills his beer in the process, but he
doesn't care
about that at the moment. "Don' see me, don' see me, don' see me ..." is now the
mantra
that he takes to as the fear rises once more within him. When one of the street
lights starts
to flicker, the Cajun winces.

As a sphere swishes toward her, Jean is, through sheer urgency, able to mobilize
herself
finally, throwing her weight to one side, and putting her body behind a tree.
Back up
against the trunk, she's able to see the course of the rest of the spheres as
they scattered
through the crowd, panting as her brow furrows in concern. A moment for breath-
catching passes, and she dares a glance over her shoulder, gaze falling on the
man with
the musical voice hovering in the air. She screws up her face in thought,
visibly debating
something before - slowly - she raises both hands to the sides of her head,
touching four
fingers and closing her eyes tightly, her breathing becoming even and
controlled.
Deliberate.

There is no physical alteration to those who've been hit by the spheres, which
after their
chaotic arc, swoop back up to the purple woman. The blue one following Tyson
continues,
until it passes through him - and seems to be absorbed into him, fading away.
The silver-
skinned man speaks again, still in that musical language.
In the crowd, there's panic and pandemonium. People are running in every
direction, and
the risk of being trampled is now a much more present danger. The musicians have
abandoned their instruments; the girl whose skin is now pink is sobbing, her
friends
backing away from her. A rock flies out from the midst of the crowd, towards the
five
otherworldly beings...

With extraterrestrials and (presumably) deadly spheres running rampant, Pietro
has little
attention to spare. Still, in some distant corner of his mind, he notes the
flickering of the
light overhead, but - at the moment, at least - it is of minimal consequence.
He's on his
feet again in an instant, letting his powers take over his movements to a degree
that he
seldom allows. "Hey," he throws in Tyson's direction, suddenly realizing that,
amidst all
the commotion, the sphere that had been heading for him has, somehow
disappeared,
though he didn't see where. "You-still-okay-over-th-- Oof!" He stops short as a
member
of the panicked horde runs into his almost head-on, failing to stop even after
he's
shouted, "Watch-where-th'-hell-you're-goin'!" But she, too, is inconsequential
and, with a
burst of speed, the white-haired boy makes his way back to the bench he had been
distancing himself from, not knowing where else to head in the commotion.

Fwooosh! The orb hits Tyson, knocks him back a step, and dissolves into him.
Creepy for
anyone watching, but nobody can understand how it feels for Tyson. He shudders
and
shakes and blinks his eyes. "Woah." He looks to his left, sees Pietro, and opens
his mouth
to say something when the musical voice of the alien is given a nod of extreme
attention.
"You're looking for what and the who?" He turns away from the familiar kid and
turns to
the stranger from another world. "I mean I can help you, but I need some
specifics,
because I don't speak E.T."

The now panicking crowd doesn't help Remy as someone trips over him and others
run
past him. "Jesus," he mutters as he finally takes to standing. Fight or flight
mode, and he
picks flight as the Cajun doesn't want to stick around any longer and takes
towards
running towards the gates of the park, pushing people aside in his attempts to
not be
trampled and pushed himself. A man, bulkier than himself, manages to push the
Cajun
into a woman in front of him though, and the two fall to the ground as people
continue to
run, many falling over the two.

Despite the growing fright surrounding her, the redhead is lost in
concentration, a few
sweat drops beading on her forehead. When, at last, her eyes are reopened,
there's
puzzlement on her face - then vague understanding. At least, of what she plans
to do
next, which appears to be leaving the safety of the tree and venturing in the
direction of
the silver-skinned character, trying to avoid any trampling. Nearing Tyson, she
happens to
catch the student's ambiguous exchange with the alien. No word of a greeting is
given; it's
-really- not the time for that. Or a promise of a talk later. But she does
answer to the teen,
rather oddly, "I don't speak E.T. either, but gonna give something a try." A
line has formed
on her brow by this point.

The silver-skinned man says something rather emphatic to the purple-haired
woman, who
looks a bit - well, pouty. She swoops back down to where the girl who's been
turned to
pink is crawling, and picks the pink girl up in her arms before returning to her
previous
perch. Then the man turns to address Tyson directly. He frowns, interrupting
himself,
turning to focus his pupilless gaze directly on Jean; and then he begins to
lower himself
towards Jean.

It takes a moment for Tyson's reactions to process, even with Pietro's
lightening reflexes.
"You /understand/ them?" Wasn't he just speaking to the alien, after all? When
the redhead
shows up, he takes her in with a brief diversion of his gaze, offering no
greeting beyond
his fiercely incredulous expression. But as the silver-skinned one begins his
descent, he
takes a step forward, balling his fists at his sides and sinking into a
defensive stance,
muscles held taut and alert. He's still clueless as to who these... 'people' are
and what they
want, but, clearly, he has not inclination to back down if there's a fight to be
had.

What was that? Something about...something! Darn that Jean! Tyson turns around
to stare
at his professor, who is one of the last people he thought would be around.
"Good to see
you, but I was on to something there. I was about to get some pretty important
info, but
thanks for interrupting." He rolls his eyes and turns back to the silver man.
"Teachers are
always doing this to me." A cough and Tyson has cleared his throat. "Now just
give me...a
week! Yeah, that sounds good. Give me a week...oh and some instructions.. and
I'll find
what you need. And hell, when I do, you can just have it. No need for payment.
Just head
back home." He smiles at the alien, but it's a nervous smile that's connected
with the
electrically unstable light post. "How does that sound?"

It takes a few moments for Remy to recover, but he manages to push himself out
from the
still running and fallen people and continues to take off in any direction but
the park.

Remy goes home.
Remy has left.

Line receding, Jean looks at Tyson with a mixture of bemusement and reproach.
Mostly the
latter. But as the silver-skinned man lowers to a level that catches her notice,
she returns
her full attention to him. Pensive. A moment later, she seems to allow whatever
was
transpiring between the teenager and the alien to continue, or await some other
action.

The alien being takes no notice of Tyson, now, though; something about Jean has
caught
his attention. He purses his lips, then speaks again. Another pause; he seems to
hesitate,
looking back to Tyson. Then he rises into the air, snapping something out to the
others,
and the group begins to rise; still carrying the pink girl with them.

Pietro blinks, confused more than anything now, as Tyson seems to make a deal
with the
silver devil, so to speak. Glaring suspiciously at the extraterrestrial visitor
as he rises back
to his fellows, the young man finds his voice again.
"Anyone-wanna-tell-me-what-th'-/
fuck/-just-happened?" Tyson in particular is held under a dubious stare - that
is, once
he's finally able to look back from the stars. "That chick," he continues, the
pace of his
words slowing again to a semblance of normality as he gets a grip on himself.
"What'd they
/do/ to her?" The pink girl is indicated with a nod of his head and he looks
between his
companions.

Tyson turns and looks at Jean in a whole new light. He stares at her for a
moment, and the
turns back to the silver man and watches his rise to meet the others. Damn right
it's loud!"
When the aliens begin to leave he turns around to face Jean and Pietro. "Think I
scared
them?" He chuckles and and if anyone is still paying attention, the street lamp
starts to
shine bright as always, uninhibited by whatever was toying with it before.
"Nothing, dude.
Wrong turn or something." He shrugs and gives Pietro and grin.

Jean is momentarily startled, then furrows her brow once more, eyes pinching.
Gradually,
this expression leaves her, replaced with one of frustrated uncertainty as the
aliens rise
with the pink girl. "I don't know," she answers to Pietro, sounding a little
strained. "And...
something like that," she concurs to Tyson's explanation. Nothing else is said
as she
remains fixated on the sky.

"... Right. That's how I /always/ ask fer directions." Narrowing silver eyes,
Pietro gives
Tyson a distinctly unimpressed look at the response to his question. If he
notices the
return of the street light's glare he doesn't react, too caught up in the other
boy and his
rather nonchalant behaviour now that the visitors are departing. Another glance
is given to
Jean and, almost subconsciously, he follows her gaze upward into the night.

With noone making any move to stop them, the quintet and their seemingly stunned
or
unconscious passenger vanish further and further into the sky, until they're
lost among
the skyscrapers. The crowd has largely dispersed by now in their panic. From
somewhere
is the rising wail of police sirens.

"... Right. That's how I /always/ ask fer directions." Narrowing silver eyes,
Pietro gives
Tyson a distinctly unimpressed look at the response to his question. If he
notices the
return of the street light's glare he doesn't react, too caught up in the other
boy and his
rather nonchalant behaviour now that the visitors are departing. Another glance
is given to
Jean and, almost subconsciously, he follows her gaze upward into the night,
watching
even after he's tracked the figures as far as he can manage as if expecting them
to make a
sudden return.

Tyson may sound nonchalant, but he's shaken up inside. That was way too weird
for him.
He's got a new worry, though, the sirens. "Woah. The Man is coming, guys. Time
to
scatter." He looks over at Jean, looking to follow her out since he's bound to
start asking
her questions sooner or later. May as well start while the event is still fresh
in her head.

The sirens give Jean a start. Although she still wears the same expression when
she turns
toward Tyson, her tone is flat. "You. In trouble," she states. "But for now, I
want details. All
of them. Once we get away from here." It's not explicitly stated, but it's
apparent that,
indeed, she doesn't want to be around when the law shows up.

Pietro doesn't have to be told twice. Tyson's warning, paired with the sirens
themselves,
pull the boy from whatever thoughts have consumed him. "Amen," he snorts to the
talk of
leaving. Managing a little smirk, he adds, "Been real, kids. No, take that back.
'S been
pretty damned /unreal/." There's a little salute to go along with that... and
then he's gone,
reduced to little more than a blur as speeds in whatever direction appears least
populated
from the park bench they've congregated at.