Net and Pin, Part I


b_daphne_icon.gif deborah-gibbs_icon.gif b_edgar_icon.gif b_elle_icon.gif b_joseph_icon.gif b_kaylee_icon.gif linda_icon.gif

young-gin_icon.gif margaret-smith_icon.gif b_melissa_icon.gif b_quinn_icon.gif timothy-renolds_icon.gif b_ygraine_icon.gif

Also featuring:

hiro_icon.gif hiro2_icon.gif samuel2_icon.gif

Scene Title Net and Pin, Part I
Synopsis A casualty of the time war is rescued, but not without a vicious fight.
Date December 26, 1890

It's winter, in New York City. The heroic travellers of this age were meant to be spared its icy grip for at least another month or so, but the snow is in full swing by the time the group is appearing, one by one. Previously, dressing in their pragmatic clothing designed to blend in with the setting of 1890 might have felt a little like dressing up for a late Halloween, but now

It's difficult to not feel like you fit right in.

In this day and age, New York City has its differences. The Statue of Liberty is built, but the five boroughs as we understand them today don't exist. The buildings are smaller, clustered in a sprawling metropolis through city streets and designs that remain paved in 2010. Snow does its best in disguising the details of difference, but— along the cobbled road, that's still a horse drawing a carriage with a squeak of wheels and icy dustings of snow, driver hunched in wools and furs against the chill. It's daylight, a waning afternoon, and this little group of tourists aren't getting much in the way of attention.

Despite that, Joseph feels a little like everyone is staring at him, like he doesn't belong. A woolen coat of muddy green fabric is buttoned against the cool air, his hands clad in gloves and his feet in boots. He's alone, right now. Or had been, impatiently given some go ahead to scout out the place in the best way he could, at a distance, as if fearing retaliation coming too close. The streets had appeared more alien to him then than they did when he first arrived in New York City in 2009.

He stands at the mouth of an alleyway— one that has its own destiny and meaning, where Kaylee had first staggered out from its darkness— with a clip of paper clenched in gloved hand.

New York City

December 26, 1890

When Melissa spoke to Quinn just yesterday about Doctor Who and bad guys, she really didn't expect to be getting one of those cranes mentioned. She really didn't expect to be going back in time again. But she takes it in stride, considering it less OMG-causing than the explosion the night before, and really, the clothing she wears now isn't that much different from her usual. Black skirt, black corset, black ankle length coat and a short top-hat, decorated with black netting. If she doesn't feel like she fits in, she hides it very well.

When she finds herself more than a hundred years in the past she tucks the coat more snugly around her, muttering softly to herself as she looks around. "So what exactly are we supposed to be doing besides not killing the president or changing anything? Like, specifically?" she asks Joseph softly.

When Daphne Millbrook arrives in Victorian New York, it is not in a woosh of wind and a blur of color, nor in a bustle and corset and petticoat. Instead she simply arrives out of the fabric of time and space next to Melissa and Joseph, disguised not as a lady of this era but as a young boy. Hair is tinged with a semi-permanent brown that will be washed out later, dreadlocks pulled under a tweed cap pulled low over her face. Short grayish breeches, black wool socks, black boots, and dirty looking green coat over washed out gray vest and shirt complete the look of a typical boy of the time. All she needs is the newspapers to sell on the street corner.

The speedster can't speed in petticoats and pinafores, after all, and if time is of the essence, this artful Dodger needs to be able to move.

The buildings give Ygraine a brief, false, sense of familiarity - though they're more modern than most of those in the more famous Old and New Towns of her home city, the style is intimiately familiar, and the solidity of construction with real stone feels immediately reassuring.

An icy chill, snow underfoot, and the rapid realisation that things really are different rapidly has the Briton biting her lip. Her hands fidget with the slender layer of her gloves, settling them more securely into place, as she nervously darts around - checking for the others in the rescue mission, and for any other threats that might appear. Clad in dark shades, she has not opted to try to match Daphne's disguise, though she does wear a rather boyish flat cap - instead, beneath a heavy overcoat, she wears a lady's avant-garde bicycling costume: sensible shoes, woollen socks up to the knee, and rather close-fitting bloomers. Speed might not be quite so important to her as to Daphne, but being free to scamper up walls seems like a good idea. And who knows - the former cyclist might even get to try cycling…

When Quinn appears just steps away from Ygraine, it's in the middle of muttering something to herself about - as was the topic of conversation with Melissa the day before - Doctor Who. Which sadly won't be created for another good 70 or so years. A shiver runs down her spine, despite the layers of appropriate clothing picked out, dressed awfully similarly to Melissa, lacking mostly in the top hat and wishing desperately that she had smuggled back a pair of earmuffs. Or the thick headphones she normally carried with her. "I think I might be over the whole Victorian thing already," she quips as she moves over towards the rest of the group, taking Ygraine by the arm as she passes. "The real thing's just a bit too constrictin' for my tastes." Looking around, though, she can't help of smile. While after last winter she had said she had never wanted to see snow again, she can't help be reminded of a place closer to home as she looks around/

Becoming more attentive as others appear around him, there is some subtle relief in the slack that Joseph's shoulders take on, dark eyes going from familiar face to familiar face, a half-smile when he sees Daphne appear, silent gratitude, and a small lift of eyebrows in surprise at Melissa's appearance. And her garb. But mostly her being here, although there's absolutely no objection involved. "We're goin' to this place," Joseph says, answering her question for all of them. "It's an inn, not far from here, been hanging around it but I don't see anyone watchin' the place.

"But Hiro said there might be. I guess we just— go in, bring Kaylee, go somewhere where they won't notice a bunch of people disappearin' like a magic trick." Joseph begins to walk, now, glancing back at them to follow. "I guess this alley might be alright. Middle of the city, I couldn't find much better."

His feet crunch through crisp snow, the hems of his coat a little damp. He does more or less fit in, even if he foregoed the top hats and the shining polished shoes.

Brows lift at Joseph's explanation, and Melissa glances to Quinn, then Daphne, then back to Joseph. "Why do I get the feeling it won't be anywhere near that easy." Her head is tilted one way, then the other, her neck popping a bit. "Well, at least there shouldn't be any explosions now," she mutters to herself before moving off to follow him.

"Why not? They had explosives, and it's not like anyone coming to screw with us is going to play fair," Daphne points out to Melissa, eyes narrowing as she glances around at the others. She quirks a smile back at Joseph — she has her soft spot for certain people in this world, and he's one of them, so it didn't take much to convince her other than to say it's for Sumter.

As he begins to walk, she blurs slightly to catch up with him, then slows down to the steadier, more human pace. She wrinkles her nose at the chill that bites through the thin leather of her shoes — they're authentic, stolen from a fashion museum in Manhattan, and probably a little damaged by the span of time. "My kingdom for my Reeboks," she mutters wryly, a slight shiver running through her body. "So, what, we just go in together and ask to see her or maybe some of us stay out and keep an eye out for trouble, while others go in?" she asks, looking up to Joseph for advice.

Leaning into Quinn's touch, Ygraine offers her a genuine - if slightly tense - smile, before focusing upon Joseph and then Melissa as they speak. "Do we have any money to help to ease the way, if required?", she asks quietly, attention frequently flickering away to the sights and sounds around them. The history nerd is clearly very much appreciating at least some elements of the trip.

"Christ, you people are like a walking jinx," Quinn offers with a bit of a laugh - trying her best to remain positive despite the possibility of impending danger as they look for Kaylee. "If ther eare explosions, I'm blamin' the two of you!" Perhaps said a bit… louder than she should be, but a smile remains on her face regardless. "Come on, now, in an' out. Hopefully it won't be nearly as complicated as Hiro thinks it'll be. An' in the event it is, at least we're aware, yes? Rather than being caught off guard when we heard EXTERMINATE an' a Dalek fires on us, so t' speak." Because if it's not Back to the Future, it's Doctor Who, clearly.

"That sounds like a plan," Joseph tells Daphne as they all move together in the waning snowy afternoon. "I'm— I should go in." He doesn't offer explanation behind the should. "And whoever wants to come with me can. The rest of us should probably hang back outside like Daphne says, 'specially if you got heavy hitting types of abilities." Unlike him. The ability he has isn't particularly heavy hitting, and even that doesn't work right now.

They come up on a brownstone house like any other, piano key'd in with others just like it and towering up from the skinny urban road a good four levels. Trusting people to make their own judgment calls of common sense and placement— that, and Joseph is no great tactician— the pastor starts up the stone steps, past wrought iron that would one day become so iconic to traditional New York City, boots careful not to slip on the icy granite staircase as he makes for the door, glancing back to the warm bodies opting to back him up.

Around the street, there are decent little places to hang out. The awnings of stores provide shelter, one narrow pedestrian access way between two buildings opposite the inn. Joseph is quick to knock on the door, like he might coward out if he doesn't.

"I nearly got blown up last night. Again. I'm allowed to be paranoid. And god. No more Doctor Who. Didn't I tell you it wasn't allowed unless you gave me a sonic screwdriver?" Melissa mutters to Quinn. Then to Joseph, "You need at least one hitter inside with you. Or better, Daphne," she says, nodding to the speedster. It seems she is going to be one of those waiting outside, finding a nice section of wall to lean against and observe.

"I'm not a heavy hitter, but I can get in and out fast if I need to," Daphne says, looking a little indecisive as to whether her power is better inside or out, dark eyes flitting from the alley to the door, one foot moving forward then blurring back as if she can't make up her mind.

"I'll stay outside, 'cause if I see trouble, I can let everyone know faster than anyone else, and get us out of here fast, too, right?" she finally decides, though her dark eyes move to Joseph's for confirmation, even as she backs up to wait.

Those railings - again, so familiar from her home city - earn a lingering look, before the Briton draws her thoughts back to the task in hand. "You and me inside, as a bodyguard and escape option?", Ygraine quietly suggests to Quinn - starting to follow behind Joseph, after nodding to the two women peeling off to loiter outside.

"How am I an' escape option?" Quinn responds, looking rather surprised. "I mean, maybe for you all." She wrinkles her nose, but continues alongside Ygraine - at the very least, she doesn't count as one of the ehavy hitters, at least not in her opinion, so it seems like the wisest option to head in with Joseph and Ygraine. "Ah, well. It's not going t' matter, hopefully."

The inn does have some noticeable activity, figures move around the shape of a pine tree situated in front of one of the big bay windows of the inn, no lights twinkle on it, but there are various things hung on it, such as a garland of popped corn and cranberries. The hollow sound of music drifts softly from inside, from an old record player, the sort that used wax cylinders.

Briefly, to those standing far enough back, a face peers around the tree. A man, by the neat way his hair is combed and the gray of a coat and waist coat. Then he is gone again, though there are muffled words.

The door to the Smith Inn has a large fresh pine wreath with dark red ribbon wrapped around it, bringing with it a earthy smell that you don't get unless you buy an air freshener. Through it, beyond the sound of the music, an older woman's voice called out. "Someone get the door?"

"I'll get it!" Comes a gentle, feminine, yet unfamiliar voice from inside, it's just moments before a delicate, demur young woman opens the door with an equally delicate smile. "Hello, can I help you?" And behind her, there's a scruffy-haired man, dressed in several layers, including a handkerchief tied around his neck. He looks more suited to the wild west than to the city, but he steps up behind the woman and adds, "Y'all lookin' for some rooms?"

Joseph has no problem with the configuration being taken on. This shows in the fact he doesn't protest it, as opposed to particularly agree, reasonably focused and alert on moving forward by the time the door is swinging open. He freezes in place, at first, twitching black-eyed stare from one face to the other, unsure as to who to speak to and who might be the one that Rhys got to talk to, but he does offer a smile, and a quick glance over his shoulder to see who's with him.

"No, I was actually, uh. Looking for someone, and maybe you could help. I'm looking for— " Did she give real names? She must have. How else would the postcog gotten that information? "I'm looking for someone named Kaylee. I'm a friend. Of her's. We are." He's not a spy. Clearly.

Outside, those hanging back don't have the advantage of hearing what's going on, and how much of the door is being watched is up to them. In the lightly falling snow, however, there's the shimmer of something in the air, a human shape that seems to cut itself invisibly against the backdrop of brown brick. They both detect it at roughly the same time, like heat waves — except it has arms, legs, and it's the dead of holiday winter.

Unless she hears yelling, gunshots or something going boom, Melissa isn't going to pay too much attention to what's going on at the door. Her job is elsewhere. And when she sees that shimmer, she straightens, nudges Daphne, nods towards it. "See it?" she murmurs, leaving her hands in her coat pockets for now, but she's preparing herself to use her ability, if need be.

Daphne's dark eyes squint at what's ahead, and she nods toward Melissa, then glances back to the door that Joseph stands out. She's ready to move, but waits just a moment, to see what comes out of that air that looks like a mirage on the summer pavement — once she knows what it is, who it is, she can react — whether to head toward whoever it is and try to stop them from doing whatever it is they're here to do, or to go to Joseph and warn him. Her breath held in her lungs, she watches — a split second feels like a lifetime.

Remaining arm in arm with Quinn, Ygraine stays quiet behind Joseph - figuring that a posh British accent might not be the most subtle of things to unveil… however useful it might become should a show (or pretence) of respectability or upper-crust cluelesness prove necessary. As it is, she settles for offering the strangers an encouraging smile, mutely agreeing with Joseph's words.

Quinn flashes a grin from behind Joseph, giving a slow nod. She fidgets a little, but otherwise stays close to Ygraine, admittedly looking around a bit nervously. For all of her positive talk earlier, it doesn't prevent her from being a least a little nervous, though she tries her best not to show it outwardly.

The mention of Kaylee's name has two more people joining the first two. A cream shawl over her shoulders and wearing a black dress, her dark hair is streaked with gray. Her equally dark eyes narrow that Joseph, suspiciously.

Behind her the man who peaked through the window, steps around her, his expression distrustful and maybe a touch worried. "And how might we ask is calling?"


Now that voice is familiar, the tall man's eyes widen and he turns to look at the woman on the stairs, having descended unnoticed. Kaylee Thatcher stands there rooted in place from shock. Five years have passed since any of them have seen her, leaving her looking older then the young woman just barely into adulthood, now she looked closer to a woman hedging on thirty. The way blonde curls are gathered up on her head, shorter coils framing her face, doesn't help that fact.

Her clothing is modest, but very much in the styling of the times. Her dress is a deep blue, with a high collar trimmed in lace. Lace also is gathered at her neck and falls down her chest. Like most women of that time, under the dress a whale bone ribbed corset forces her waist to be much much smaller then it is.

A hand rests on the banister, as she takes a step down, eyes on the pastor in the doorway, forgetting that a gold band rests on her ring finger, glinting softly in the low light.

"I —" Kaylee can't say anything, she really didn't expect to see him again — ever.

The older woman moves closer to the door with the same look of surprises as man does, "You're her Joseph?" An aged hand pressed against her own chest and guilt suddenly flits across her features. She had just earlier that day told Kaylee he would never be coming for her. "We thought —" The older woman doesn't know what to say, it's just a shock to her.

"Deborah. Inside," comes more gruffly from the man there behind her, who, when he comes up to take his sister's place at the door… turns out to be fairly short. But still, Malachi sets himself there like a barricade, looking up at Joseph and his companion like they're up to something. "So. You're a friend of Kaylee's, huh?" Oh yeah, that's suspicion. After all, Malachi knows Kaylee used to be a fighter of some kind before she landed in their laps there at the Inn.

It's only Kaylee herself that gets that expression to relax. And Malachi looks over his shoulder at her when she says Joseph's name, like it's some sort of magic word. And by the way everyone's reacting in there… it might as well be. He looks back to Joseph, taking a moment to look him over. "I dunno, he doesn't look like much of an infantry man to me," Malachi says, but by the smile he throws Kaylee over his shoulder, he's just teasing. "Well, get inside, or else you'll be stuck standing out there while we all pick our jaws up off the ground." And he steps back, inviting.

'Infantry man' startles Joseph out of his staring, surprised and worried and all those things that might come from eyeing someone who looks visibly older than where they last left them. It is highly probable that this isn't what Joseph intended, or pictured, stepping into an established world of friendships and connections and— he shakes his head, in denial of being offered passage into the building, but he's taking it anyway, brushing past people and headed up to the stairs, ignoring the old lady and indeed the people he came here with.

His hands go out to her, but doesn't pull into an embrace, or anything quite so dramatic. He isn't talking either, squaring that task on Ygraine and Quinn.

Outside, the mirage goes still, and almost entirely unseen — it will take keen eyes to notice the way the snow interacts with some kind of negative space, creeping along the edges of buildings and apparently taking a good look at the ladies on the stoop of the inn. Then, there's a subtle groan, the creak of metal, as if immense pressure were being put on nearby iron railings, and invisible to those within the building, or halfway in, the black iron begins to bend outwards. A sharp snap is audible, as it snaps from concrete, coiling like a snake readying to strike.

Melissa squints as she tries to make out that shape in the snow, but it's forgotten, momentarily, as she stiffens at the sound of metal bending. "Shit, Daph?" she asks, glancing towards the sound, prepared to run, jump or just land face first on the ground, snow or not. Whatever it may take to avoid being skewered. "Incoming!" she calls, hoping that the others hear over their conversation.

Daphne's a runner, not a fighter, and whatever that is terrifies her. "Shit. Be careful, I'm gonna let the preacher know we got company, in case they didn't hear that, and maybe you can toss a bit of pain in that person's direction, yeah?" the "newsie" tells Melissa, and suddenly becomes a blur of gray and green and black streaking toward the door of the inn.

To those within the inn, Daphne appears suddenly in the doorframe.

"Get your bird, time to fly," she says brightly enough, in what might be a cryptic message to Joseph, though she knows he'll understand. "Someone's deciding the wrought iron designs outside aren't to their liking."

Right now, Ygraine's trying to wrack her memory in search of data on wars that Joseph might be considered a suitable age to have fought in. That Wounded Knee took place this year isn't exactly a cheery or helpful thought - that disaster is still a few days away.

Normally, a distraction from pondering impending and unavoidable disaster would be welcomed… but after the snap of that iron brings Ygraine's head around, it results in her jaw dropping. She might be wholly wrong, but metal moving in a serpentine fashion seems all too horribly familiar. And she doubts that a tin of boot polish will help to save her this time. Instead, she hisses "//Merde!", and darts up a step above Quinn, using a flick of gravity - setting the Irishwoman to lock onto her as 'down' for a moment - to get Quinn in motion as well, bundling the pair of them through the doorway, hoping that speed and strength will let her get the pair of them out of the line of potential impalement… though a great sprawling heap of locals and time-travellers does seem worryingly possible.

"An infantry man?" Quinn tries to make it not sound like a question, but that upwards inflection comes out despite her best desire, turning it into one. With Kaylee in view, Quinn offers a bit of a wave to her, accompanied by a nod of ehr ehad. "'Ello, Kaylee! Been a while." she says happily as she makes no real attempt to hide her Irish accent. The greeting fitting of someone who supposedly hasn't seen a friend in some time, or at least the story seems to go.

And then suddenly Ygraine is moving, gathering her up and trying to pull her up inside. Experiencing the momentary dizziness she always does when Ygraine uses her ability causes the Irishwoman to become momentarily disoriented, simple enough to be pulled into the open house door, looking rather confused and surprised the entire time. "W-What in the…"

There's another blur this time from behind where the shimmer came from and Edgar stops less than a foot from in front of Melissa. He's looking a little better than he did this morning, actually much better, rest does wonders for blood loss. His wrist is still bandaged with the piece of her shirt that she tied around it the night before.

He's dressed in a very similar fashion to the Goth. Period, but a little off, a little too tinkering modern. Steampunkish, even. It suits him. "Melissa…" he greets, the tone of his voice is grim and his left eye keeps twitching like it did when they first met. "I'm 'ere teh pick up the woman tha' focks wi' people's minds. Are you goin'teh le' me 'ave 'er?"

As Joseph brushes past them, the tall well dressed man suddenly looks irritated and starts to take a step after Joseph, only for the older lady to stop him with a touch of her hand. "No, Timothy." She chides softly, using his first name to drive it home.

Timothy looks to Margaret with a pained look, before he jerks his arm away and with a final look at Kaylee, he storms away the fall of his leather shoes heard til the door into the garden slams open and then shut again.

On the stairs, Kaylee takes a few mores steps, hand reaching out to touch Joseph's cheek, as if making sure he's real. Once her fingers touch the solid flesh, she is suddenly smiles and her eyes filling with tears, she seems to suddenly breath again with a sharp gasp. "I didn't think — I missed — " she starts and stops not able to find the right words. The telepath starts to move to take that last step that would allow her to throw arms around him and hug him finally after so much waiting, but Melissa's shout and Daphne's sudden appearance pulls her out of the moment.

Jerking to a stop at the warning, she looks past Joseph, her eyes widen a little. "Oh — oh god. They're here?" Her voice kept low in a fierce whisper, she suddenly looks scared. Still —

"Malachi." Even as she called the short man's name, Kaylee can't help but touch Joseph's cheek again, to make certain it is him. "Take Margaret and Deborah, head out back, and find Timothy. Go to the church, we were going to go to the pot luck anyhow. Should be safe there." Yes, someone has been still going, a thin crucifix looped around her neck is proof of that.

The woman named Margaret, gives Kaylee a confused and unhappy look, "Mrs. Thatcher… What are you going on about?"

"We need to get away from the Inn." Kaylee says to Joseph, ignoring the innkeeper for the moment, more concerned with protecting them. "I can't have them getting hurt."

"I told y'all he wasn' dead," is Malachi's comment on the matter, which probably isn't all that thoughtful, as far as Timothy's reaction is concerned. But his sister, the sweet-looking Deborah, is only a step behind Timothy on his way out, to offer comfort, likely.

But the warning of trouble as Malachi on edge again and he looks over to Kaylee for a moment, just a moment, before he steps out of the room to grab his coat, which holds his guns, sliding it on as he comes back. "Come on, Miz Smith. No arguin' this time." He's not taking her protests right now, he just comes over to take her arm, to follow after the others. "They won't get hurt, Kaylee. I promise." It's one of the few times he's used her name, and certainly the first in front of other people. But it's only because he really means what he's saying.

Hidden to the best of her ability in a dark alley, there is a petite form, leaned up against the cold brick as she sizes up the situation. The clothes certainly don't fit the time period; the tiny blonde woman wears a knee-length black peacoat, with a striped black and grey scarf/hat/gloves set. A pair of blue jeans adorn her leg, as well as a pair of high-heeled boots. She certainly looks out of place in this time.

Elle Bishop certainly doesn't belong here in this time. Nor does Edgar, or whatever it is that's bending the iron. She's not fond of the snow; it might make things a little on the difficult side of things. But it's not like rain, at least. She can still use her ability when it's snowing, thankfully. Otherwise, she wouldn't be much use. Still, the Company-issued gun at her hip is a comfort; the coat hides it well enough.

A smirk forms on the tiny woman's face, as she slinks out from the alley, making her appearance just behind Edgar and the shape in the snow. Her heels crunch in the snow, and as she walks, she quietly tugs those gloves off, tucking them into her pockets as she walks, a faintly amused look on her face as she makes her approach.

At the sudden retreat with the Inn, Linda isn't hesitating. The wrought iron suddenly wrenches around in some kind of ludicrous snake of black with spines almost as tall as its length, with clinging scrapes of granite from where it had been uprooted from the stairwell. It circles around Daphne's ankle before the speedster has time to look and thus react, and with a sudden skreeeeee of bending metal, it viciously yanks the platinum blonde back outside into the hazy daylight and falling snow, scraping her down the stairs and making a trench through the soft snow that's gathered on the pavement.

"Daphne!" Joseph startles before he can even answer questions, or confirm that yes, this is them, and how they need to take Kaylee home. His hand compulsively goes around the telepath's, unwilling to leave her, but equally unwilling to just run and abandon people. "Melissa!" he yells out, as if in warning.

The front door of the Inn suddenly blows inwards with telekinetic effort, winging directly towards where Joseph and Kaylee are standing even as a corner clips Ygraine's shoulder harshly. Joseph reacts, grabbing Kaylee to duck.

If there's one person that Melissa did not expect to see in the past, it was Edgar, and it shows plainly on her face. "You? You're one of the people trying to fuck up time?" she asks, sounding surprised, confused, and maybe even a wee bit hurt. "Shit. Shit." Then Daphne's being grabbed by the iron, and she's calling out, concerned, "Daphne!"

She glances to Edgar. "Don't hurt Daph or Quinn," she tells him, before darting towards the female speedster, trying to grab a hold of her hands or arm or anything she can, to try prevent her from being dragged away. It seems she won't help Edgar, not now at least, but neither will she stand in his way. At least for now.

Daphne's masculine form is belied by the feminine screech of outrage and pain when she is wrenched out of the doorway and out to the street. The little tweed cap is also lost in her wake, dreadlocked but dark hair falling free around her pale face. Her fingers grab at snow and pavement beneath it, trying to find a handhold on something as she tries to kick free of that viselike grip; her face is contorted in pain as she flails, then reaches down to try to pull with now bloody fingers the iron snake off her foot, her other booted foot kicking at the tendril futilely before Melissa's grip catches on hers.

"Bring her down, use your power," Daphne hisses to Melissa. "Go, go, go…"

Ygraine lets out a gasp, dropping to one knee as the door pivots her torso. The intake of breath hisses sharply through clenched teeth, then she expostulates "Merde!" once more, and staggers upright. "Cut their line of sight, love", she gasps to Quinn, giving her shoulder a tentative poke with her other hand, before looking faintly relieved. "Blanket of dark over the front of the building. Something. Buy us time."

At least there's no explosions yet, right? The sudden turn of events has Quinn's gaze snapping back towards the door just in time to see Daphne get grabbed by something. "Oh, feckin' hell!" Quinn exclaims. Instinct doesn't drive her running forward like it might some of her friends, but Ygraine's insistence that she not simply stand there gawping at whatever might be happening has her stembling over to the doorway, eyes narrowed. "I can't see anyone!" she exclaims back to Ygraine and Joseph, peering up and down the area. Still, her hand glows, and she flicks her wrist out - a bright light flaring up a few meters in front of Daphne. She hadn't been planning on using her ability out in the open, but desperate times, it seems.

The blinding light gives Edgar pause, like looking into the sun too long, all he can see is green spots when he averts his eyes. It's a hard thing to do being in such close proximity to the walking flashlight. With no apology to Melissa, do to the fact he doesn't know who this woman is, he rushes at her full speed fully intending to knock the woman as far back into the house as he can manage with a body check.

It's then that the knives come out and he's trying to see through the field of green to find the telepath woman. Racing through the house, he blasts open doors with his shoulder. He's not going to give her the chance to see him if he can help it, who knows how their powers work.

As if things haven't changed and Kaylee hasn't been stuck in the past for five years, the telepath's fingers lace with Joseph's squeezing out of reflex. A familiarity to that simple action, brings a certain comfort to it and a pain in her chest from the emotions it stirs.

As the doors come off the hinges, there is a shriek of fear from the inn's owner and suddenly Malachi will find no resistance from the old woman. The need to survive winning out.

Kaylee doesn't cry out when the doors come flying at the two of them, as Joseph grabs her to duck, she moves to same dropping to the floor, which is awkward in that damn corset keeping her from scrunching down. Fingers grip tightly to Joseph's coat to keep her balance, as she gasps out, "It's her… the one from the train?" They have faded with time, but the memories are still there. She remembers the twisting metal and the feeling of being knocked back. This time she's without a gun to help defend them.

Then it is there, someone coming fast, so while Edgar doesn't want her to see him, the telepath knows he's there, her ability showing her the direction, should he find her and come at her, she'll probably be looking straight at him.

Malachi… well, he can't really seem to just leave Kaylee behind. So, after telling Timothy in quite vulgar and firm terms to get the women to safety, he pulls out his guns and comes charging back into the Inn. That light only quickens his steps.

Joseph may of may not notice the smaller fellow sliding into place next to him, but there he stands, ready for a fight. Malachi even twirls his guns around his fingers a little. It's been a while since he's gotten to put his gun fighting to the test, but hell if he isn't itching to do so right now.

Of course, he isn't really… expecting things like super speed.

A quiet smirk is on Elle's face as she crunches through the snow toward the inn, a small grin on her face as one bare hand is raised into a claw shape. One good thing about snow: it doesn't stop her from using her ability like its warm-weather counterpart. Sure, it's not entirely comfortable, but she's not neutralized by any means. Tiny sparks pop over the tiny woman's form, the rather ominous sound of electricity filling the air as a ball of the bright blue crackling energy forms in her upheld hand.

The bright flare of light prompts her to wince, the same green spots appearing over her vision as she raises her other hand to shield her eyes. She stumbles, slightly, but makes her way quickly toward the door. Thankfully, she doesn't exactly need to see to use her ability.

Once she arrives in the doorway to the inn, Elle's hands raise; she can't see who she's aiming at, but really— it doesn't exactly matter to her. Her hand raises, and electricity arcs into the room in a fan shape, the blonde still blinking the light spots away from her eyes.

"I think so," is muttered from Joseph, tangible fear lacing his voice at the memory of it as he takes out a pistol from within his coat — a remnant of the modern world that Kaylee probably hasn't seen for a long time. Helping Kaylee to her feet, trying not to get distracted by attempting to see the details of her change in her face— plenty of time for that later. He glances towards Malachi, dimly surprised at this unexpected arrival. The sound of Edgar charging through the house, making wooden structures shudder, the dim thunder of opening and closing doors—

Joseph is praying for Hiro more than God right now. But it's pretty fifty-fifty. His voice remains quiet. "We need to make a break for it, lose ourselves in the— Quinn? Ygraine?"

Outside, the flare of light gets a soft snarl from Linda, slamming back into visibility and appearing too close to Daphne for comfort, close to taking her ability for herself. She's dressed in black as the most dominant colour, leather and denim and wool, her dark hair in a tangle and dotted with falling snow. The metal is released from her hold, just loose enough for Daphne to wriggle her foot from.

Staggering back, Linda sinks against brickwork as she tries to recover her eyes, a hand up and ready in case someone comes at her as she recovers.

She turns her head to see Elle's departure into the house, hanging back for the meantime as she sees the flash of wild electricity.

Lightning darts out, seeking as if attracted to warmth and moving bodies, scorching fine wood and cracking a glass window into imploding. Rather than manhandling Kaylee out of the way, Joseph trusts her enough to be smart, as he dives for cover from the crackling sparks. Fires off a shot once he's behind a door frame, the first one taking out splinters from the ruined front door frame. Hard to say if that's clumsiness or mercy warning, even if he might not be so lucky next time.

Even as Daphne is shouting instructions at her, Melissa is blinking at the sudden light. Words are stalled when the release of metal takes away some of the resistance and she stumbles a bit. And while she can't see well, black stands out very well against snow, and, still holding onto Daphne for a moment, she focuses her ability on the stranger, not quite full blast, but it's no mosquito bite either. But she's had enough migraines for one year, she won't be giving herself another if she can help it.

Blinded by that flash of light, Daphne can't see but can feel the relenting of the metal around her boot and she scrambles free and up to her feet, half expecting to fall but managing to stay standing. Nothing's broken. "Going in!" she shouts to Melissa, and zooms in the direction of the door, staying away from Linda more because she can't see the woman very clearly, darting into the house and trying to make sense of things.

She darts between those arcs of sparks, not quite fast as lightning, but fast enough, and she makes for Kaylee, since she's the target it seems, intent to get her out first, then come back for the others.

Daphne can see — and make sense of — the blur that is Edgar, and her hand grabs a wrist belonging to a masculine hand with a knife in it. "Not so fast," she whispers, wrenching it back with all the speed she can muster.

Being sent sprawling did not initially seem like any kind of a benefit, as Ygraine sees Quinn punched away through the air by some unseen but definitely felt force. Then lightning crackles over her head and she aborts her attempt to get up… though a moment later one tendril does lick over her, pumping the air from her lungs in a hoarse, convulsive shriek. Then the gunfire provides the distraction necessary to end the burst of pain, and she instinctively curls up half way into a ball, shuddering and gasping as she attempts to get her muscles back under control. In spite of the pain, however, her half-lidded eyes are watching through quivering lashes, as she waits to see if her assailant advances from the doorway. For the next few moments, at least, that burst of agony has given her a one-track mind.

Crashing backwards was not what Quinn exactly had in mind for tonight, letting out a cry of pain at impact, the photokinetic unconciously letitng out a swirl of culoured light around her. She groans, pretty sure this is the worst pain she's ever been in, worse than stumbling off stage and certainly worse than having her face get cut up wehm Raith's window got blown in. What is with going to the past and getting her ass kicked? After today, no more time travel.

Rolling on her side, she coughs as she looks up and around, vision shaking a bit as she attempts to reorient herself, thankfully so far untouched by the lightning arcing around the room. Grabbing on to something, she gulps and starts trying to pull herself up,g asping all teh while.

The grab is certainly a surprise for Edgar and spying the elfin thief, his eyebrows twitch downward. The wrist that's bandaged has her fingers digging into his wound and it's a little bit painful. "You ought'neh done tha'… I ain' 'ere teh fetch you… Lemme 'ave the telepath an' I won' need teh kill you."

Daphne's answer? A headbutt.


The sound is enough to make a person think that a gun went off someone close by. To the two speedsters, just another headbutt. Shaking off the pain like a bull, he whips the arm she's holding in a wide arc, fully intending on throwing her onto her back. The knife is still in his hand. At the same time, his leg sweeps in behind her, catching her off balance to aid in the throw. "You shouldn'eh done tha' either."

But she's not his target. A swift punch lands his knuckles against the hardwood floor, crunching them and possibly breaking one or two. Then next one lands square between her eyes. At its velocity, it's enough to kill someone not used to the speed, but Daphne's used to it and is able to lessen the blow with a roll of her head, deflecting just a little of the damage.

Her eyes go straight to the gun with a look of surprise, then to Joseph, but she doesnt' have time to say much as the crackle of lightening makes the hair stand up on the back of her neck. As Joseph dives one way, Kaylee is forced to go for cover by ducking into the sitting room. Her back thumps against the wall near the doorway, head jerking to the side as she hear the snap of lighting crackle not far from where they were.

Kaylee's head leans back against the wall as she tries to catch her breath, tough as it is in the restraints of the torturous corset., making it hard to fill her lungs. Damn the fashion back then, it's no wonder women fainted so much.

She can hear what is going on outside, she can only hear the hums as they move around at the edges of her ability, like points on a map, but her mind isn't on that.

"Where are you, Hiro?" Kaylee murmurs, hazarding a look around the corner to see where Joseph is, fingers curling around the door frame. Joseph? The telepath reaches out mentally for him, when she can't be there physically. It's been long enough, she's suddenly hesitant at her own actions, uncertain of what to do.

The problem with not being at all familiar with the idea of superpowers? There is no reason to think to duck at the sight of Elle Bishop. So Malachi fires at her first, before it really sinks in, what's happening. And that's how that zap has an easy target, who convulses at the touch of that lightning… and then falls to the ground in a heap. He's alive still! Just… never been electrocuted before…

A squeak sounds from Elle Bishop as the gunshots are fired at her; she promptly ducks back behind the doorframe, offering a brief reprieve from the electricity. It is only very brief, however. Thankfully, the light spots have cleared from her eyes, now. After a moment, Elle's hand is clenched into the shape of a gun, a small grin forming on her face.

She did always enjoy the sounds of her ability doing its job. The screams from her electricity's effects are such a pleasant reminder that she is in control.

Then, she pokes her head back out, her finger pointed at the doorframe that Kaylee and Joseph dove into. Electricity arcs out twice, this time in much more concentrated beams. Even if she doesn't hit Joseph or Kaylee, she can set their cover on fire on both sides. This will afford her the opportunity to get into the place, where she can cause even more damage, which she so loves to do.

Linda is moving up the stairs when Melissa makes her attack. Her legs crumble beneath her briefly as the migraine knifes through her head, hand gripping her forehead before she twists, disoriented, and twisting around to see where that came from, for all that the psychic nature of Melissa's attack means it doesn't really come from a direction at all. But she sees her anyway, her slender figure in black in all the white snow billowing around, and Linda's mouth pulls in a grimace that's both sneer and snarl.

With headaches popping like fireworks in her brain, Linda goes for the crudest weapon in her arsenal, extending a hand. Telekinetic hooks dig painlessly into Melissa's body, and carry her back and back, jarring the young woman into the wall directly behind her, hard enough for snow in the gutters to come down.

Kaylee! That's Joseph's voice, more echoey than the real thing, but sharper than the memory she's been relying on for this long. What more he might say is muted when he has more to focus on — namely, the electrical explosion at the frame of the door, fire licking readily up the wooden floors and fanning against the ceiling. We need a way out that ain't the front door!

It's likely that Melissa hears Daphne, though her focus isn't on the other blonde right now. And a moment later, it's not even on using her ability on the blur. It's scattered as she suddenly feels that pain of Quinn's and bites back a scream by clenching her jaw shut tightly enough that even that hurts a little. But that also means that, for a moment, the pain directed at Linda fades.

Unfortunately, it's then that she's getting slammed against a wall, only adding to the pain that she's already feeling. Just this time it's her own, rather than second-hand pain. This time she does cry out, the combination too much to let her keep quiet. "Bitch!" she yells, trying to gather her focus again, to move past the pain, to use it, and direct it all at Linda. Seems not getting in Edgar's way doesn't extend to letting Linda go unharmed. Surely she'll apologize later though?

The headbutt hurts her as much as it does Edgar, though Daphne had the element of surprise and aggression, which is always what makes a headbutt less painful for the inflictor. This is the first time she's ever fought with someone whose reflexes are on par with her own, and he's not only nearly as fast, but twice as big and twice as strong, and a much much more accomplished fighter. When he successfully sweeps her to the floor, she exhales, wind knocked out of her for a moment, getting it back just in time to duck a little of that punch, taking it in the corner of her cheek and the brow above her left eye rather than between the eyes.

It's still enough to make her reel, rolling over and covering her face with a groan. She'll have a shiner in the morning. It gives Edgar enough of a window to be back up on his feet and heading toward his true target, surrounded by flames as she may be. The pixyish speedster is slow to get to her feet — for her, that is, which means she's on her feet in a few seconds, stumbling a little before she gives chase, blurring into action once more.

The lightning-throwing bitch is distracted, and Ygraine's still bent on revenge for her agony and whatever happened to Quinn. That hand stuck around the door-jamb makes for a tempting target - and one at which the Briton hurls herself while the blonde is having fun experimenting with pyromania.

The main threat, however, might not be that the impact of her leaping strike might shatter Elle's arm or wrist where it's close to the wood. Having trained with Jaiden for something similar to this, Ygraine resets Elle's 'down' a few inches before she makes contact. Around the time that Ygraine is spasming away, wreathed in lightning, Elle's world is going screwy in ways never before experienced by her. The glove on that hand is now the point towards which every part of her body wants to fall. Her feet want to fall up towards it; her head down to it; her body forward. The ground no longer has any hold on her whatsoever - but it does on the glove. Even as Elle 'falls' towards a point in mid-air, the glove is moving. With Elle's body in freefall (save for the matter of bouncing off the door jamb), the glove at the end of her wounded arm is tumbling towards the ground… with the rest of her body about to land atop it.

Things don't end there, unfortunately. Moving that hand from beneath her centre of gravity results in the body falling towards it again - and raising it into the air will have her fall up, away from the ground and towards it, until (unsupported once more), it falls back to the ground and she lands atop it. And that state of affairs will persist for a few seconds or more, barring the services of a negator. Probably about the time that Ygraine'll be out of it, having inadvertently fried herself.

There's another loud groan from Quinn as she pulls herself upright, even as a stray arc of electricity passes right in front of her, eliciting an "eep!" out of the pained Irishwoman. "Feckin' hell…" she mutters, flattening back against the wall just in time to see Ygraine collapse to the ground admist the - whatever she just did to the woman who's been turning the house into a centralised electrical storm. Eyes widen, and somewhat instinctfully, and with no small amount of pain she pushes away, her first moment being towards Ygraine - but at the same time, not wanting to risk full on electrocution, she instead back away a bit, closer to Joseph and Kaylee, something which makes her ehart sink a lttle.

Stumbling up next to them, Quinn coughs, a hand practically slammed down on Kaylee's shoulder. "God, I hope this works," she grumbles as she grips tight an looks up at Kaylee, a look of hard concentration on ehr face. "You're not going t' be able t' see for a bit. Let him guide you." And in that instant, before Joseph's eyes, Kaylee vanishes, while the telepath's own sight is reduced down to simple blackness.

Just freed from Daphne's assault, Edgar pulls a knife from a sheath near his boots and hurls it. A bellow of rage spews forth from his lungs as the woman vanishes right before his eyes. "Nooooooooo!! I ain' goin'teh lose!!" The speed at which the dirk is thrown is suddenly halted as it too disappears into thin air and the jugglers sharp ears hear the sound that he's looking for.

The satisfiying schlick as metal sinks into flesh.

A huff of a laugh sounds from the carnie as he realizes exactly what he's done and he whips around the room, giving more air to the fire. The whirlwind of air fans the flame into a firestorm… at least in this room. Once it's raging out of control, he zips out of the house leaving his companions to their own devices.

Ducking back as electricity hits the door frame, laddering up it briefly before leaving flames behind, Kaylee can't help but worry about the poor inn, since it had been her home for so long. Her name, has her glancing Joseph's way and then looking around the sitting room where she is hidden. There is a frantic quality to it, til she sees the doorway on the far side.

Quinn's hand on her shoulder makes her jump and jerk a bit, surprise and a flicker of fear showing til she finds out who it is. Then it dawns on her that she's up to something. "What?! Wait!" Then her world goes dark, excepts for the humming in her head, like GPS… she can locate people by that. What the…? She reaches out towards the one she knows as Joseph, she still has to tell him…

Kitchen! There is a door, servants do—.

Kaylee's mentally spoken words are cut off and a cry of pain echo's through through Joseph's head, even as she rewards Edgar with one vocally. The shock of it, causes her to stumble and fall to her hands and knees, with another cry from the jarring action.

She can't help but let out a whimper from the sharp pain in her side. Unable to see, Kaylee reaches with seeking finger to find out what it is, only to have them bump against the handle of a knife buried deep in her side. The telepath's fingers shake as she clutches at her side around the knife, immediately feeling the sticky warmth of her blood as it soaks into the fibers of her dress.

Fire is not good. Margaret is gonna be heartbroke floats across his thoughts as Malachi starts to push himself up after that jolt. As soon as he can lift an arm though, he's firing another shot toward Elle. He doesn't know how to explain it, but he knows she's responsible. But after firing, he's just trying to get to his feet and off to help the others get out before they can't make it out.

It's always a horribly bad idea to touch the woman who is shooting electricity from her hands. She always makes it look like she needs to use her hands to control her electrical ability, but in reality, she is the generator. This is a bit of a blessing, really, that she is quite literally a live current right now. It's a good last line of defense.

It doesn't exactly stop Ygraine from breaking her arm, however, nor does it stop Elle's shriek of pain as she feels that sickening snap, and her arm doesn't quite look right. Not to mention, wow that's some pain. Sadly, touching Elle is like sticking a fork into an electrical socket. Electricity arcs between the tiny blondes and Ygraine, even as Elle is being tossed all over the place.

Feeling queasy and with a broken arm, Elle screams once, and blue electricity suddenly flares up from her entire body, sending Ygraine flying back, unconcious, to the floor, and leaving Elle to slump there in the doorway for a moment, gritting her teeth through the pain. The next shot to come from Malichi prompts the woman to duck her head, letting out another shout, and rolling back behind the cover of the door, her face scrunched up in pain as tears stream down her cheeks.

Angry, and in a lot of pain, Elle turns, feeding fuel to the fire, quite literally. She uses much more liberal amounts of electricity, aiming shots at places in the Inn that aren't on fire. Then, she decides that her arm really hurts, and that this place sucks. Bleeding from a particularly nasty bump to the head during Ygraine's trickery, and clenching her arm to her chest, Elle promptly begins to make her way away from the Inn.

But not without a parting shot. The electrokinetic turns, aiming a few more blasts of electricity at the inn's windows. 1890 can kiss Elle's ass, and so can that stupid inn and its stupid people.

Telekinetic pressure is released off Melissa's chest under the weight of that last lashing of pain, Linda at the same time cloaking herself into distorted invisibility. She never got to enter the fight. She never got to take a shot at the troublesome telepath within. Fortunately, she's only a mercenary, not a soldier, and fleeing over honour is something Linda is capable of. Supposedly, it's what happens, if deep trenching footprints in the snow is of any indication.

Smokey runoff from fire is starting to get a little dangerous, thick around the ceiling. Joseph has a hand on Kaylee ever since after Quinn's instruction, holding onto an elbow just as he watches with mute horror at the sight of Ygraine's attack and what it costs her in the aftermath. But he can also recognise a retreat when he sees one, even as he has to duck and haul Kaylee away from the windows as they flash blinding white with Elle's shots on her retreats.

"Let's go," he says, ignorant to Kaylee's injury. "Quinn, can you get Ygraine? We need to get out of this darn building." He looks towards Malachi, uncertain, and asks, "She said there was a way out through the kitchen — can you take us there?"

Only then does his hand pull away, and he notices it's stained with red. Ridiculously, he wonders if he's bleeding from anywhere, like the shock of injury made him not notice it. It doesn't stop him, exactly, half-carrying Kaylee in the way he assumes the kitchen to be before Malachi can lead.

Melissa half collapses once the pressure is gone, taking a moment to get her breathing under control, making sure that there isn't anything really wrong. Then she's moving towards the door, staring inside for a moment. "Everyone out now! Bitch out here's gone!" she calls, peering around, trying to spot anyone inside.

Unfortunately for Elle, Melissa spots her and her light show, and all of the pain manipulator's patience has run out. Every. Last. Drop. And with Linda running off, it's Elle now who gets a full dose of Mel's ability. It's not lethal, can't be leather, unlike Elle's ability, but maybe, just maybe, it'll give Mel's friends enough time to escape.

Daphne's hand was too slow to stop Edgar from slicing invisible people, grabbing on air instead of wrist and she swears when she hears the blade connect, then gives chase to Edgar. The blur she is slips just ahead of Elle's hasty retreat before she hears the complaint of wood and glass and smells the smoke of Elle's handiwork. Revenge isn't as important as the lives of those inside.

Damn it.

She turns, speeding past Elle just as Melissa wallops her with pain, and zooms back into the building. "Out," she says, not waiting for Malachi's answer to Joseph, but grabbing him, knowing he has Kaylee, and zooming for whatever backdoor she can find — she'll head back to retrieve the others once she's deposited them in a safe place outside.

Watching as Joseph leads Kaylee away for only a moment, Quinn's attention shifts back to Ygraine's prone form, the photokinetic gulping. There's still a burning building around her, and there's still two speedsters duking it out. "Shit, I can't carry her m'self!" Quinn calls back, even as she's practically tripping forward, blinking a few times and shaking her ehad as she tries to fight off both a headache and the still near wrenching pain in her abck and side. Reaching the where her comrade has fallen, she collapses down to her knees, a glance given out the door to Melissa. "Melissa! Come'ere an' help me get Ygraine!" she shouts.

No one's come out of the house but someone did go back in, fanning the flames just a little more, Edgar catches Joseph's question to Malachi and a rather malicious grin crosses his features. There'll be no tour guide through the burning house today. The appearance of Daphne has him halting near a burning wall and as the tiny speedster grabs Joseph, Edgar grabs Malachi and takes him out the other direction.

All of it done with no one possibly being the wiser aside from Kaylee and Daphne herself. Unfortunately, by the time Daphne has Joseph and Kaylee safely away, Edgar and Malachi are gone.

Gritting her teeth against the pain and trusting Joseph completely to guide her, Kaylee holds on to him for dear life, fearing that letting go would mean her loosing him again. Where she grips at his coat, she leaves bloody smears and is finding herself needing to lean on him more and more in an attempt to ease the sharp ache at her side.

Blinded as she is by whatever Quinn's ability does, Kaylee can only sense Daphne's approach and hear her shout. She also catches the approach of Edgar, but before she can warn anyone, she finds herself out of the smoke and heat, only to be assaulted by the harsh biting cold of the winter, which is never fun without a coat.

It's probably lucky that Timothy has done as he was asked, none of the natives to this era are to be seen anywhere back behind the building when people suddenly appear as they are dropped off by the speedster.

The tears brought on by the pain, feel icy as they slide down her cheeks to soak into the high collar of her dress. "Hurts," Joseph can hear Kaylee whimper against the wool of his coat.

Finding himself grabbed, Malachi panics a little. His cry of "Kaylee!" is lost in all that speed, so he does the only thing he cane. He fights back, squirming and hitting and generally flailing about. Nevermind his voice sounded particularly… feminine just now.

Elle keeps blasting as she goes, her broken arm clenched to her chest while her other arm lets loose electricity on the building. Burn, mother fuckers, burn, as one song that won't be around for another 100 years or so goes.

Sadly, that fun but pain-filled retreat comes to an abrupt halt as Melissa unleashes her ability on the blonde, who stops in her tracks. She lets out a piercing scream, staggering down to her knees and down to her bad side, unleashing another scream of pain as her landing aggravates her arm. A stream of curses is shouted as she lays there in the snow, writhing in pain. Well…at the very least, the cold is good for the broken bone.

Electricity briefly flares all around her, in a sphere, before shrinking back down into her. But she does have enough mind, through this, to make her own parting shot. Her good arm flits toward the doorway, and a final blast of electricity is sent flying in its general direction. Then, she's crawling away, toward that dark alley she originally came from, sobbing. To hell with this! This is so not worth it. She hurts!

Something descends upon Elle's sobbing, sparking shape, darkly dressed and carrying with him the scent of mineral and earth despite the fact he now eases through time like a darting salmon through a stream. Samuel crouches, risks resting a rough hand down on the young woman's shoulder, before they both disappear out the timestream altogether.

"Wh— ?"

This from Joseph, as Daphne lets him go along with Kaylee, who is suddenly leaning all her weight into him and smelling a little like iron and salt and— no, that's blood. "No!" is stupid protest, and he can see the truth of it as the effects of Quinn's power melts away, exposing the black and white snowy outdoor realm to Kaylee's vision, and Joseph's concerned expression as he sees the mess of a knife wound in the woman's side, blessedly away from anything killing thanks to temporary invisibility, but messy and bloody and staining red through the gash made in ridiculous Victorian layers. "You're okay," Joseph mutters, like he knows if she's okay, helping her to sit in the snow with his hands on her to make sure she doesn't fall. "We're gonna getcha home soon, it'll be okay."


The world blurs away to Malachi's eyes in the sheer speed of Edgar, until something seems to crash hard into them.

It's a confusing few seconds as both Edgar and Malachi go down, spilling onto— what appears to be solid concrete, no snow, no cold. The buildings around them describe New York City, but a very different one to the one they were previously in. "Live to fight another day, friend," is an accented voice over the whitenoise in Malachi's ears as he grows accustomed to the 2006 ruins of Midtown strewn about them, a temporary safe haven for at least two people here.

Samuel is holding out a hand to Edgar. "Leave the boy," he dismisses.


The Inn is burning. Choking smoke belches towards the overcast sky and frizzles out the falling snow. Hiro leaves no footprints in the snow — just suddenly there and kneeling down next to Kaylee, looking across at Joseph. "I can take her where she must be now for you to save her. Believe me," Hiro states, as the pastor goes to protest. Joseph thins his mouth into a line, before he reaches for his own throat.

He tugs, and then, twin crucifixes press into Kaylee's palm, his hand closing it.

When electricity heads her way, Melissa goes for a dive out the door and into the snow. Please let there still be snow! It does mean that her focus breaks, long enough to let up on the Jesus Christ make it stop! pain, just as Elle goes BLIP and disappears. She gets up, peeking inside, then darts in to move to Ygraine. Arms slide under the other woman's, hooking around her so Mel can work on dragging her out. "Who's still in here?" she calls out, trying to cast out with her as yet untamed sixth sense to try, and fail, to feel for anyone in the house who's in pain.

Having deposited Joseph and Kaylee outside, Daphne's blurred form returns to the house; her eyes water and she begins to cough at the smoke — she sees that Melissa and Quinn are gathering Ygraine, and assists, helping Ygraine out first in a streak of dull Victorian colors, then returning to meet the other two on their way out, helping them the rest of the way — returning all to the same spot in the snow where Joseph waits.

"The boy — I can't find him — Edgar took him, I think. Was there anyone else?" Daphne asks, rubbing a sooty hand against a sooty nose, making her look truly like an urchin of the time, but for those unruly dreadlocks of hers.

"No, I think that's it…" Quinn replies with a glance over to Melissa as she hooks her arms under Ygraine. "Christ, my side hurts, though." Despite that comment, she musters a weak smile, one that remains as there is a sudden blur of Daphne moving by her. Quinn lets out a bit of a sound as Ygraine is whisked off, but it's only a moment more before she finds herself outside with the others, a somewhat confused look on her face - superspeed travel is almost as disorienting as teleportation, it seems. "I think that's it," she repeats for Daphne's benefit, though there's a clear sense of uncertainty in her voice as she scoots over to where Ygraine has been set, pulling teh Brit's head up into her lap. "Is… Is Ygriane okay?"she asks before she looks up at Kaylee. "Lord, are you okay?"

Kaylee doesn't protest when Joseph helps her to the ground, her knees already deciding they don't want to hold her up any longer. "Terrible liar," she murmurs back, but there is so much affection there. She's just glad to be there with him, she's almost content. "Still love you."

Five years she waited to say it outloud.

Of course, Hiro is suddenly there in her field of view. He receives a look of sheer relief, since it means she's going home. What he says to Joseph don't sink in, maybe it's the shock setting in, but it is not til she feels the press of the crucifix's in her hand, fingers curling around them instinctively. "Why are you?" The weight of Hiro's hand on her shoulder, brings it home and she looks back at the pastor with scared wide eyes, "//No!! Jo— //"

And Hiro winks out of existence taking Kaylee with him, but leaving Joseph behind and empty handed.

Malachi lands there on the sidewalk and takes a minute to gather himself enough to look around. And just… can't… process. The ruins and the noise and smell and these two men deciding his fate so… flippantly. "W- Wait!" But it's too late. And this is anything but a safe haven. He would have to find one, though. Now that he was one of the many homeless after the Midtown bomb.

At least he has a coat.

But sadly, it would be months before he could really think of himself as Ginny again.

Back in 2010, Elle Bishop reappears before the St. Luke's Hospital ER, still curled upon the ground. However, the immense amount of pain inflicted by Melissa is gone, and while her arm still hurts like a bitch, she's much more…capable of her facilities, now. A brief glance around confirms that her surroundings match the time she's supposed to be in.

She's also thankful that she has her own face back; that means she won't be in trouble, going into a hospital like that. With a pained grunt, Elle Bishop stands, stumbling her way into the emergency room to get her arm fixed up.

To hell with 1890.

Joseph shivers as he, once again, entrusts Kaylee's welfare to a time traveler who seems to be a hell of a lot less responsible than the guy on the other side. Getting up from kneeling in the snow, he looks back towards the other three ladies are gathered, the unconscious shape of Ygraine being cradled by Quinn, and the strange tracks in the snow that Daphne's superspeed creates, almost blowing a metre long path through the snow beneath the pressure of zooming wind.

He gets no further than a step closer to the girls before Hiro is appearing like it's easy, and with the nearby burning building and the snow coming down all the harder— or maybe that's ash— it's difficult to pick up on subtle differences. Like the make of his sword, for instances, and his curiousity casting over the group.

"November the 6th, New York City?" he asks, and before Joseph has room to protest and ask where the hell Kaylee went if the rest of them needed that clarification—

They disappear, like they were never there, saving for tracks in the snow and the final collapse of the burning Inn.

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