gwen stacy (![]() ![]() @ 2013-12-19 12:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, gwen stacy (mcu), henry "hank" mccoy / beast |
Who: Gwen Stacy, Hank McCoy and a NOT DEAD draugr
When: Thursday afternoon (12/19)
Where: SHIELD Medical
What: Draugr attacks and Beast saves the day
Rating: PG-13 for mild violence?
If the sight of that thing lying on the dissection table was bad enough, the smell really had Gwen apprehensive about being in the same room as something that looked like a mummy without bandages. That she was pretty sure was dead. Maybe. And that’s why it was just lying there and not strapped down in some sort of containment cell right now? At least until it had apparently gotten tired of lying there. It made a grab for Gwen’s arm first, the closest thing in sight, with claws that could have ripped the entire limb off. However, the movement got her attention in time, that she stumbled back with a scream, saving herself from a disability. Oh, but there was blood. Blood that she didn’t realize was actually there until she was stumbling away from the table, as the draugr followed her, toppling things, throwing stuff aside, breaking so much glass that there was only so many things that could shield her before she got to the emergency… panic button? You can’t remember the proper term for those when you were being chased by some mummy-looking that suddenly seemed to look a lot bigger than it was on the table! Now would have been the great time if she was able to get to the door, except the draugr had practically cornered her. The stench became even more overwhelming and between the feeling of nausea from that stench, the blood on her clothes, the various bumps and bruises from colliding into everything hard and metal, and general panic, it wasn’t going to be a good idea to pull some heroic-escape stunt under the creature’s legs. Gwen ran sideways just as the draugr lunged again and she screamed before ducking behind a desk. Training with the X-men had made Hank remember just how much more he had done than simple (or terribly complex) science back with Charles, Alex, and Sean. But he had not quite anticipated how much time field agent certification would take away from his time in the lab. It was only on stolen lunch breaks or late nights that Hank McCoy even managed to keep up with is experiments. He'd be done with training soon, and have some time again, but he was a man who straddled two worlds: research and the front lines, pacifist and warrior, man and beast if he were grimly honest as he typically was. How did Stevenson put it? The thorough and primitive duality of man? The grim musing was snapped by the klaxon blare of someone activating an emergency panel. The past few weeks had been inundated with drills and procedure preaching evacuation and containment. But the drills had never contained a woman's scream. Most probably hadn't heard it over the alert, and the harried pace of scientists towards the exit suggested the same. So protocol and thought went out the window and Hank McCoy barrelled down the hallway, stabilizing his run with his strong simian arms. He nearly ran past the lab, but it was impossible to miss the smell. Instead he dug his claws in and scratched to a halt, using the momentum to change direction, grabbing onto the upper door jamb and swinging into the lab. Though he was gaining control over the Beast within, the creature was starved for battle. He let out a terrifying and adrenaline-driven roar as the only warning and swung from the door to a laboratory bench, scattering whatever experiment had been so carefully laid out. He didn't pause to consider that, though he glanced towards the desk shielding the screamer. Hank leapt off the bench and tackled the enlarged corpse, set to maul. Considering the now-very-much-alive draugr (oh, god, she was going to get an earful, wasn’t she… but her supervisor had left her!) could have easily put his foot on the desk that made a measly shield, Gwen had braced herself for some sort of movement, vibrations from footsteps, maybe, towards her so she could jump out before she was crushed. Before she could do that, though, an ear-shattering roar startled her and she almost screamed again. Instead she clasped her hands over her ear and… got blood in her hair now. Don’t tell me there are two of them, she thought, craning her neck just a bit to look for a clearer path out the door. The sound of something shattering had her dropping herself back under there and that was when the pain from the gashes on her arm started to make itself known. Oh, she was going to be sick. Though he was smaller, Hank McCoy was far less skeletal. He should have hit the draugr and taken it down easily. But he hit it like a brick wall. Whatever this thing was, it was dense. The creature swung an arm out, attempting to bat away its new aggressor, a far less interesting morsel. Hank managed to hold on to its long arm, then dug a handle into its broad back. The draugr didn't ignore him then, though after a short scrap, succeeded in getting rid of him. A bony hand grabbed the Beast by his throat and couldn't be moved. He tried for leverage with his feet until the need for oxygen overcame the desire to hold on. He released his piton-like grip on the creature's trapezius and grasped for its wrist. The creature wasn't as dim as it seemed. It took advantage of this and rolled, throwing the blue beast at the opposite wall. He hit with sickly noise and slid down the wall. But he wasn't out. He just wasn't up yet either. Meanwhile, Gwen took deep breathes before peeking out again and noting a spot to run and hide behind, and it was… a rolling storage. It wasn’t much but it’ll do, considering it put her a few steps closer to the door. She only managed to shove herself partially off the floor to scramble behind it when the draugr tossed aside its new opponent aside like a freaking ragdoll. Oh, God, Hank. There wasn’t much room to think. Or at least, not extensively. She wasn’t going to be able to get help without getting out and this hulking piece of undead work wasn’t going to let her, she should try for a weapon to hold him (Her? It? She didn’t care to do a proper analysis on bone structure for that knowledge) off for as long as she could. Gwen turned, pulling open on of the now-busted storage cabinet doors, that incidentally held something that looked like a weapon. Her miniscule experience in shooting her dad’s gun (thanks to his paranoia on keeping his family safe) came to mind as she wrapped a hand around what she could only assume was the stock, and adrenaline helped her maneuver it till she was turned back around, facing the draugr waddling toward her and she fired, a bright blue light illuminating the entire room for a split second before it faded. And the lab itself suddenly seemed mostly empty. |