Posh Raven

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

Hearing Nathaniel’s calm yet unapologetic voice, Clementine felt an odd familiarity settle over her. It reminded her of the precincts—of times she'd been hauled in for minor offences. Not violent, not enough to land her in any real trouble, but bad enough for her to feel the weight of it. Her lawyer always managed to smooth things over, cutting her free before the situation could spiral beyond her control. Back then, she'd often smirk as she walked out, the cocky grin of someone who knew how to play the game and win.

Now? There was no smirk, no cocky grin. There was just the weight of Nathaniel’s words hanging in the air like an anchor. It made sense—of course, it did. Nathaniel had a way of making things sound simple and logical, stripping away the chaos with a few blunt words. It’s not for me to decide. It’s not for you either. That part gnawed at her, though. Even if she pushed it away, buried it beneath layers of self-preservation and denial, it was still there. Some dark, twisted corner of her brain whispered back, What if it should be?

Clementine’s jaw tightened slightly as the thought surfaced, her teeth grinding together. She forced her focus elsewhere—on Nathaniel’s hand on her shoulder, the solid weight of his reassurance. “You’re not a bad person.” She wished she could believe him. She wanted to believe him. But when she closed her eyes, all she could hear was that woman’s guttural, agonizing scream. The acrid stench of scorched flesh still clung to her like an invisible brand, burning itself deeper into her memory. She had done that. She had caused that pain. Self-defence or not, the truth was uglier than she wanted to face.

Her gaze flickered up to Nathaniel again, watching him as he shifted his attention toward the tunnel where her brothers had disappeared. Could he really believe that nothing had changed? That she hadn’t changed? Clementine wasn’t so sure. She felt different—something darker, something fractured. It was like a crack running through her core, spreading just a little bit wider every time she let herself think about it.

And yet… beneath the guilt and fear, there was something else. Something she was even more ashamed of—a flicker of hope. Her fingers twitched slightly at her sides as a thought slithered its way into her mind. I killed someone. She could almost hear her father’s voice in her head, measuring, calculating. Would this be enough? Enough to prove herself to him? Maybe now—after this—he would see her differently. Maybe now he would call. Maybe now I’ve done something right. The hope was faint but stubborn, like a spark refusing to die in the cold. It almost hurt to feel it.

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips, faint and brittle, as the possibility warmed her for just a second. But before she could hold onto it, Nathaniel’s voice pulled her back to reality, cutting through the haze of her thoughts like a knife.

“Hm?” Her head snapped up, her pale blue eyes meeting his for a moment before following his line of sight. “Oh. That?” She blinked, forcing herself to sound more grounded, more casual. “Usually, Duncan figures out a solution, and Errol…” She shrugged, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth as she tried to lighten her own mood. “Well, Errol either goes along with it or does the exact opposite—depends on the wind, I guess. You never really know with my brothers.”

She looked back at the fire as her voice trailed off, her expression faltering for just a second before she pulled herself together. The smirk faded, replaced by something more guarded. Clementine wrapped her arms loosely around herself, feeling the heat of the flames kiss her skin as if to remind her she was still here—still alive. Nathaniel’s concern had been a fleeting comfort, like a warm blanket she didn’t quite know how to accept. And yet, she couldn’t deny that it helped, even if she wasn’t ready to say it aloud.

For now, she settled for the fire. Its flickering light danced across her face, reflecting in her eyes like little burning secrets. And as she stared into it, she held onto Nathaniel’s words, repeating them silently in her head like a mantra she wasn’t sure she believed.

You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re not a bad person.

Living in the Shadows

Living in York had its perks for a witch such as herself, especially in this quiet, cobbled corner of the city where time seemed to move a little slower. The ancient streets, with their winding alleys and the shadow of the towering Minster, offered just the right balance of charm and anonymity. It had been surprisingly easy to set up shop and build a modest business, tucked away in one of the less-travelled lanes. Blackthorn’s Antiquities & Oddities blended seamlessly with its surroundings, its weathered black wood facade as much a part of the street as the cobblestones beneath it.

Inside, shelves lined with dusty tomes, peculiar trinkets, and jars of unidentifiable herbs seemed to invite curiosity, though most customers chalked up her eclectic wares to eccentric taste rather than anything truly unusual. The locals, however, had their own way of making things memorable. They’d taken to calling her the Lady of Old Wood, a name born of the shop’s unmistakable exterior. It started as a harmless jest, but it lingered, whispered in passing or used warmly in greetings.

To them, it was quaint, even endearing. To her, it was ironic—a veiled nod to the very secret she so carefully concealed behind those creaking doors. But in a city like York, steeped in its own layers of history and mystery, such things had a way of slipping beneath notice. For now, the quiet corner and its curious clientele suited her just fine.

The streets were empty, the soft glow of the street lamps pooling onto the cobblestones as dusk settled over the city. Nerissa was in the process of closing up Blackthorn's Antiquities & Oddities for the day, the faint jingle of the bell above the door marking the last few trips in and out as she tidied the threshold. Her black cat, ever her shadow, sat patiently by her feet, languidly grooming its sleek fur without a care in the world.

Perched on her shoulder, a European Eagle Owl watched with sharp, unblinking eyes, its head swivelling silently as it scanned the empty streets for unseen movement. The weight of it was familiar, comforting even, like an old friend keeping guard as she secured the final latch. The windows of the shop, framed in weathered black wood, reflected little more than the dimming sky and the faint flicker of light from within.

With one last glance at the quiet street, Nerissa pulled her heavy cloak tighter around her shoulders and turned the key in the lock. The subtle click seemed louder in the stillness, a final punctuation mark to the day. She whispered something—soft, inaudible—her fingers tracing a faint sigil onto the wood, before stepping away.

The cat fell into step beside her as she moved down the lane, the owl’s talons flexing gently on her shoulder, a watchful sentinel as the shadows began to deepen.

Making her way down the cobblestone street, she had the weird sense of being watched and it didn't help that both her familiars also acted up, looking around them as she turned to a larger cobblestone street, though no less empty.

@KinkyPrawn @MightyHorus

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

Clementine’s eyes flickered from the dancing flames to Nathaniel, her expression hardening slightly as she tried to mask her inner turmoil. She noted the concern in his eyes, starkly contrasting the detachment she often felt from those around her.

“Yeah, well,” she began, her voice tinged with an edge that betrayed her attempt to sound nonchalant.

“I’m fine.”

She lifted her chin just a fraction, a subtle sign of defiance that only someone who knew her well would catch. Despite her efforts to appear unaffected, there was an underlying tension in her stance, the way she clenched her fists and avoided meeting his gaze directly. Nathaniel’s perceptive eyes wouldn't miss the telltale signs. He had seen Clementine enough times to recognize when she was lying. He would quickly be able to tell there was more beneath her façade or that she held back. One of the perks of having to defend Clementine multiple times and wrestle the truth out of her stubborn personality.

“I'm fine," Clementine repeated, her voice firmer now, trying to reinforce her first 'I'm fine' as she focused on the fire. “Why wouldn't I be fine?!” she asked accusatorially, but it was more directed at herself, than Nathaniel really. There was a spark of force to her voice and the flames in the barrel reacted to her tone for a second.

She glanced briefly at Nathaniel, a flicker of something almost vulnerable in her eyes before she quickly masked it with a dismissive shrug. “So yeah, fine.” Her final 'fine' seemed to have solidified her mask to hide the truth.

She turned her attention back to the fire, feeling its warmth against her skin but struggling to find the same comfort within herself. The concern from Nathaniel was a fleeting balm, but it was a reminder that even amidst her struggles, there were moments of unexpected support and she never knew how to handle it. As she stared into the flames, Clementine's thoughts churned. Her mind kept replaying the moment she had burned the soldier's hands, the agonizing scream, and the smell of charred flesh. Part of her recoiled in horror, repulsed by the brutality and the pain she had inflicted. She knew it was wrong—she knew it deep down, beyond the adrenaline and the chaos of the moment.

Yet, buried beneath the horror was an unsettling, twisted sense of satisfaction. It was a dark, primal part of her that had found a disturbing thrill in the power she had unleashed. It was that flicker of satisfaction that frightened her the most. It gnawed at her conscience, a sinister whisper that maybe, just maybe, she had enjoyed it more than she wanted to admit.

"Have you ever..." Clementine paused said, her voice quieter now, tinged with a conflicted edge. "Have you ever felt a pull... wanting to do bad things... to bad people?" The last bit 'to bad people' almost sounded like an addition to protect herself from sounding sick or crazy.

She paused again, her gaze fixed on the flickering flames, struggling with the dark satisfaction she felt. It’s hard to ignore the fact that there was something... almost satisfying about seeing her own flames consume things. And that scared her. After her long pause, she looked up at Nathaniel again, the flame from the barrow, dancing in her pale blue eyes as she wanted to say something... but didn't.

Clementine’s expression hardened again, a mask of teenage defiance slipping back into place. “Anyway, thanks for asking,” she added, though her voice was now a bit more distant. With that, she turned her focus back to the fire, using its light to shield the turmoil she felt from view. The warmth was there, but it did little to comfort the storm inside her.

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

Clementine had decided just to ignore everyone as she with crossed arms, stared out into the street, watching the surroundings pass by. The drive was boring, she had just lost everything she owed at her home thanks to now getting hunted by not only the government but some off-brand Power Ranger soldiers who hate them.
The thoughts of those clad-in-black soldiers that attacked them caused Clementine to think back to what she did to one of them... She slowly opened her hand, feeling the skin in her palms buzzing as if it were hypersensitive and yet, nothing happened. Clementine glanced at her brothers to the left of her, were they angry with her? Did her powers scare them? Clementine didn't even know what she was capable of...

Unlike her brothers, she never really experimented much or got in situations where she was forced, unlike today. Clementine had always seen her brother Errol's powers as insanely cool and how he was able to just move with such freedom. Out of her two brothers, Errol was by far the most explosive of the two, but her eldest brother Duncan seemed to be the most precise, then again, Clementine never got the chance to see her oldest brother's powers in action when they met for their monthly one-day "meet-n-greet"... well that's not quite true, she sometimes saw Duncan 5-7 times over a month when he had to bail her out. That was a rough month and she felt a bit bad for putting her oldest brother in that situation, but then again, who could blame a teenager with money and no true parental control?

Clementine had begun to zone out in the car, not really paying attention to everyone else as her mind kept reliving the moment she burned that woman's hands off her bones. The gruelling and animalistic scream still rang in her mind, the smell of burned meat and flesh as melted pieces kept sliding off the woman's fingers until only charred bones remained stopped by third-degree burned wrists.
Even as they arrived, Clementine kept herself at a distance completely shut off mentally and still completely zoned out by those memories spiralling more and more out of control, until she heard her name.

She snapped out of her inner thoughts, pulled back to the present time and raised her piercing eyes from her hands to Duncan showing the raging inner turmoil through her eyes as the iris' had a slight glow. "Hm?"
It took her a second or two to process what her brother had asked her. "Yeah sure, whatever" was her slightly nonchalant response and the intensity and glow in her eyes had disappeared and turned back to their normal calm pale blue. It was very obvious that she hid her inner thoughts and turmoil she had behind typical teenage indifference, pushing her inner chaos far back in her mind.

The red-haired girl went over to the sausages and then looked around the place and found an empty industrial barrel, which made her think back to those homeless people under highways she randomly stumbled upon while running from the police. Now they just needed something flammable, like wood or other highly flammable material.

As such, she removed her oversized and now, very ruined coat and placed it into the barrel and in an instant the barrel lit up like a Christmas tree. Unlike most people, even mutants, Clementine couldn't get cold, or hot for that matter, at least not in the same sense as a normal person would. "There, though you might need to find something more if you want me to keep the fire alive" explained Clementine matter-of-factly and put her hands in her pockets, not moving from her spot by the barrel. In fact, she rather wanted to be anywhere else than here and instantly thought about go exploring, so she could be alone with her thoughts.

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

Throughout the heated argument, Clementine had stayed on the sideline, watching the trainwreck spiral more and more into chaos. Her brief smile had disappeared, however, when Noa decided to bring the siblings' dad into her argument with Duncan. That was her first mistake, and while her jab was meant for Duncan alone, the jab in actuality had turned into a shotgun shell, striking all three siblings at once.

Unlike Duncan and Errol, Clementine's reaction was immediate and visceral. Her heart pounded a surge of anger and hurt coursing through her veins. She could feel the heat rising within her, a dangerous reminder of her temperamental powers. The mention of her father was a deeply sensitive topic, a wound that never fully healed. Despite her father's despise and the resentment he held towards her for her mother's death, Clementine harboured a deep-seated need for his approval—a need that had driven many of her questionable actions.

Even after Noa was blasted out of the newly created hole in the armoured truck, Clementine bolted from her spot in the armoured car and went past Duncan in a flurry of red directly in Noa's direction. Whether Noa was getting up or hadn't recovered from suddenly getting slingshotted three parking spots away, Clementine stepped forward, her fiery eyes locking onto Noa with an intensity that could rival the sun. "Don't ever fucking speak about him like that again," she hissed, her voice low but seething with a fury only the sun could rival.

The thing was, it wasn't really Noa's fault, she got such a reaction from Clementine, but the multi-layered unresolved issues surrounding her relationship with her father was a topic that quickly caused untreated issues to explode into superheated anger. To make it worse, her connection to the sun only amplified her rage.

She turned away, the anger still simmering inside her but the immediate threat of her powers subsiding. Clementine knew she needed to calm down, to regain control. The last thing she wanted was to hurt the people she cared about, no matter how complicated their relationships were.

In that moment, she realized just how much her father's shadow loomed over her, shaping her reactions, her emotions, and her very sense of self. And as much as she wanted to break free from that shadow, an even stronger part of her desperately wanted her father to acknowledge her. She knew both sides were a part of her that she couldn't simply ignore or forget.

Clementine sat in Nathaniel's car in the back, crossing her arms, staring out the window deciding just to ignore everyone until she calmed down. Even Nathaniel's comment got the cold shoulder once everyone was in the car and Nathaniel's voice usually managed to get her to smile.

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

"Roll up your sleeve." There was little left of the coat's sleeve that Errol would almost not have to roll anything up.

"This'll sting a little."

Two sentences that only vaguely sounded like words, for Clementine didn't hear them properly until she felt the sharp spike of pain from the disinfectant wipe against her minor wound.

The distant look was gone in an instant, "Motherfucker!" cursed the 18-year-old girl and jerked her arm away out of instinct, but when she registered it was Errol beside her, she reluctantly returned it so he could clean the wound fully. She was used to smaller scrapes, cuts and other types of minor wounds and had them cleaned. Getting strafed by a bullet sucked arse in a whole new type of way, it wasn't just a surface wound, but a legit deep enough cut that she was bleeding properly.

On the positive side, it was still only a graze, instead of getting the bullet shot into her body.
Letting her brother take care of her shoulder, Clementine did give Errol a small smile, which then quickly turned into a short snort, hearing her Noa call her brother dimwitted.

Once Duncan spoke up, Clementine just watched, it was so rarely that she wasn't the one to get yelled at or lectured by Duncan that she almost enjoyed it and might have joined in, if it wasn't for the fact that she didn't really feel like arguing with her brother at the moment. Getting shot, even if it was a graze and not intended for her, still made her scared for what would have happened if the bullet's projectile had been a little more to the left when hitting her.

However, one thing she did think to herself, which made her slightly make a face, was the name "U-men" and all she could think, tuning out her brother's outburst, was how fucking cringe the group's name was. 'U-men', what? Was Semen taken?

Duncan's valid outburst was loud enough mixed with the armoured van rumble, that Clementine didn't hear her phone's vibration as Nathaniel attempted to call. In fact, after the crash, her phone might not even work.

Hearing the voice of Nathaniel made Clementine turn her attention from her thoughts to the direction of Duncan. Man, he sounded pissed. She remembered him helping her out in a particularly tough situation with a burned car. She also remembered him as pretty hot and how some of her friends in school just wouldn't stop fucking teasing her about it.

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

Clementine sat in the back of the van, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she clutched her injured arm, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins like wildfire. The dull ache in her shoulder was drowned out by the rush of chaos and the roar of the engine as they sped away from the scene of the altercation. Her eyes darted around the interior of the van, taking in the blur of motion as Noa navigated the crowded streets with practised ease.

But amidst the chaos, there was a nagging sense of unease gnawing at Clementine's insides, a whisper of doubt that lingered in the recesses of her mind. She couldn't shake the image of the woman whose hands she had burned, the smell of burning flesh and the sound of her agonized screams echoing in her ears like a haunting refrain.

For years, Clementine had grappled with the weight of her plasma powers, the flickers of flame dancing along her fingertips serving as a stark reminder of the danger lurking within her. But never before had she unleashed such a force of her abilities with such ferocity, the searing heat of her plasma engulfing her enemy's hands in a blaze of incandescent fury.

"How you doin', Tangerine? You still think it's a good idea to live my lifestyle?".

There was no reaction from Clementine, her eyes, focusing on a singular point in front of her, nostrils rapidly expanding and contracting to match with her breathing.

The realization of what she had done hit Clementine like a ton of bricks, sending a shiver of revulsion coursing down her spine. She had always known that her powers were dangerous, but the extent of their destructive potential had never been made so painfully clear until now. The fact that she had been able to inflict such horrific injuries in a matter of seconds was a sobering reminder of the darkness that lay within her.

As the van rumbled on, Clementine's thoughts swirled with a maelstrom of confusion and fear. She had never wanted to hurt anyone, let alone maim them in such a gruesome manner. The guilt weighed heavily on her conscience, a heavy burden that threatened to crush her beneath its weight.

And yet, amidst the turmoil of her emotions, there was a spark of something else—a flicker of defiance that refused to be extinguished. Despite the horror of what she had done, there was a small part of Clementine that felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, a primal thrill at the display of power she had unleashed. And honestly? She wasn't sure if she was more afraid of the potential or that primal thrill she felt.

Clementine hadn't even noticed tears slowly slithering down her cheeks as her mind had trouble warping around with what she had done to that woman who grabbed her. The red-haired girl hadn't even noticed much of the sleeves of her oversized coat had burned much of the lower part off, giving them a ruined look.

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

There was an absolute furnace burning inside of Clementine, watching someone trying to kill her brother Duncan. The girl might have a difficult relationship with her oldest brother, but that doesn't mean she would just leave her brother. However, the fact that both Duncan and Noa wanted Clementine to go with Noa, jump into the black van and speed away.

Clementine's eyes blazed with the fervour of a solar flare, their fiery intensity a reflection of her deep connection to the sun itself. Like twin beacons of celestial energy, they shimmered with the radiant warmth of a thousand suns, each flicker of light a testament to the boundless power coursing through her veins.

In the golden depths of her gaze, there lay an undeniable resonance with the sun, a connection that transcended mere mortal understanding. It was as if the very essence of the sun's fiery brilliance had been infused into her being, illuminating her path with its divine radiance.

Yet, despite the radiant strength that pulsed within her, Clementine's eyes betrayed a lingering sense of uncertainty, a flicker of doubt that danced amidst the flames. As she turned to face Noa, her gaze wavered, torn between the urge to rush to her brother's aid and the instinct to heed Noa's call for retreat.

In that moment of hesitation, her eyes seemed to shimmer with a conflicted brilliance, their luminous glow casting a soft, golden hue over the tumultuous scene unfolding before her. Though her resolve wavered, the radiant power of the sun still burned brightly within her, a guiding light amidst the chaos that threatened to engulf her.

Then the blaring sounds of sirens filled the area, clearly, the police had finally arrived on the scene opposite where Noa, Errol and Clem, which caused even more chaos as more bullets started firing, but between the men in black and the city's police officers.

"We can't just leave Duncan!" said Clementine finally, clearly wanting to help her oldest brother as the red-haired girl looked to Errol and Noa. However, She was no hero, she wasn't brave and she was scared. But there was no way she would just leave her brother Duncan, despite him being a stupid ass most of the time see him.

Each orb crackled with the raw power of the sun, glowing with a brilliant radiance as she wanted to unleash upon the enemies threatening her family.

And yet, all of that fiery heat in her was interrupted by a stray bullet, strafing her shoulder. In a cry of pain, Clementine tripped and fell in Noa's direction. Luckily, Clementine had powered down, so Noa could catch the red-haired girl.

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

Duncan's voice manages to pull her out of her hyperventilating panic, if only for a moment. His words, a beacon of focused reassurance amidst the chaos, cut through the turmoil swirling within her mind. With each syllable, Clementine felt a semblance of calm wash over her, like a soothing balm for her frayed nerves.

Yet, even as Duncan's voice anchored her in the present, Clementine couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease gnawing at her insides. She knows that her control over her powers is slipping the more she lets her emotions take control, the flickers of plasma dancing along her fingertips serving as a stark reminder of the storm brewing within.

As the red armour carried her toward Noa, Clementine's eyes went wide as her eyes flickered between her brother and the two masked opponents. Despite Duncan's attempts to reassure her, she can't shake the feeling of impending dread that weighs heavy on her chest.

Up until now, the third member of the fourth had watched the Hawk-masked and fly-masked allies go to town on Duncan, while the fourth had gone after Errol. The hawk-masked brute went for Duncan to pull him back up, just to punch him back down. Whether he wanted to knock out Duncan or just enjoyed punching down, was unknown.
The fly-masked woman looked to the third member of the squad, the one who hadn't engaged at all and looked more like he was observing the situation. The third member wore an owl mask and decked out with all manners of knives, swords and metal-reinforced gauntlets. With a nod, from the owl-masked man, the fly-masked woman left Duncan and the hawk-masked brute and went around the destroyed car to go after Clementine and Noa.

Meanwhile, Clementine had managed to quickly get up and over to Noa, having gained, somewhat, control over her powers again, the young girl just managed to lock eyes with Noa, before she felt a painful iron grip lock around her hair, forcing Clementine to release a pained scream as she was lifted into the air by her hair and held right in front of Noa, using Clementine as a human shield in case Noa had any bright idea of attacking.

As Clementine's scream echoed through the chaos, a surge of heat ignited within her, fueled by the intensity of her fear and desperation. With a fierce determination, she seized the fly-masked woman's wrist with both hands, channelling the raw power of her plasma abilities into a blistering inferno.

The air around Clementine crackled with searing heat as her plasma powers surged to life, enveloping the woman's wrist in what looked like incorporeal orbs of a scorching blaze. The intense heat radiated from Clementine's hands like fire, bathing the immediate vicinity in an oppressive warmth that bordered on unbearable. Anyone standing nearby could feel the heat washing over them like the searing breath of a furnace, forcing them to instinctively take a step back to escape its fiery grasp.

With a guttural cry of pain, the fly-masked woman recoiled as her wrist was seared by the scorching plasma, the skin blistering and blackening under the intense heat. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, mingling with the acrid scent of charred fabric as the woman stumbled back, releasing her grip on Clementine's hair.

The shrieking from the fly-masked woman pierced the sky, causing the other mutants from the group to pause, if only for a second or two as the fly-masked woman watched the blistering skin and blackening flesh of her hand and wrist fall off the bones in chunks, like meat served at a restaurant.

As Clementine broke free from the woman's grasp, her hands still radiated with the residual heat of her plasma powers engulfing her hands like miniature suns. The air around her crackled with the intense energy of her abilities, sending ripples of heat distortion shimmering around the traffic light.

Amidst the fighting, the temperature around Clementine soared to uncomfortable levels, the air thick with the oppressive heat emanating from her fiery aura. Noa immediately felt the spike of heat rise, her skin prickling with sweat. The owl-masked man who previously had purely focused on the hawk-masked man attacking Duncan had now turned his full attention to Clementine only to speak into his comm attracted to his wrist as he stepped away.

The chaotic sounds of the city were overshadowed by the crackling hum of Clementine's plasma powers. The air itself seemed to vibrate with energy, as if charged with the raw power of the sun, casting a golden glow over the surrounding buildings and streets.

Outcasts Assembled (An AU X-Men roleplay)

Clementine had the worse day ever in her own honest opinion. First, she gets manhandled by police, then thrown into a holding cell for a night and now she's in the middle of what felt like a warzone! Oh and the worst of it all, that damn song was still blasting from their flipped broken car.

So much was happening and all Clem could do, was hide behind her brother for protection. She had never truly seen her brother's powers in action. not truly. Clem had only seen her brother, Duncan's powers in action from a monitor and that was from a hiding place, while their father watched recordings of Duncan's X-men days.

As she tried to sit up with her back against the car, she finally felt the searing pain pulse through her arm. As she looked down at her now bloodied arm, hearing nothing but her pulse pumping with everything else a faint muffled noise. Everything felt slow like she was affected by slow motion.

"You're going to be okay Clem. Just stay near me."

Clementine looked up at her brother holding the line bravely, facing what certainly was odds against them, yet he faced them anyway. Another pulse of pain hit her from her arm as she was pulled out of her daze watching everything speed up around her, like fast-forwarding only it was fast-forwarding out of her daze.

Noise, voices, bullets and every other possible sound became clear as the day. Clem released a pained whimper as she felt her body begin to hyperventilate.

As Clementine's surroundings morphed into a chaotic blur of noise and motion, she felt an overwhelming surge of panic rising within her chest. Her heart pounded with adrenaline-fueled intensity, drowning out the cacophony of sounds around her. With each pulse of searing pain shooting through her arm, she struggled to maintain her composure, but the overwhelming chaos threatened to consume her.

In a desperate attempt to ground herself, Clementine fixed her gaze on her brother, Duncan, who stood steadfast in the face of danger. His reassuring words echoed in her mind, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. Yet, despite his unwavering resolve, Clementine could feel the tendrils of fear tightening their grip on her.

As her breaths grew shallow and ragged, Clementine's vision began to blur, the world around her spinning in dizzying spirals. Her chest tightened with each passing second, the weight of the situation bearing down on her like a suffocating blanket.

And then, in a fleeting moment of clarity, Clementine's eyes flickered with a bright orange hue, mirroring the fiery intensity of her inner turmoil. It was a subtle but unmistakable sign that her control over her powers was beginning to waver, a silent plea for help in the midst of chaos.

In addition, the tips of Clementine's vibrant ginger hair seemed to shimmer with a faint, ethereal glow, as if touched by the warmth of the sun itself. Though subtle, the radiant display served as a silent testament to her connection to solar energy, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.

Duncan would also feel the temperature suddenly grow a couple of degrees behind him, while not near enough to be uncomfortable, but enough to be noticeable.

With each passing moment, the intensity of Clementine's inner struggle seemed to manifest in the world around her. Small, fleeting sparks of plasma danced along her fingertips, crackling with an otherworldly energy that belied her inner turmoil. Though she tried to conceal her growing unease, the subtle display of her powers betrayed her, casting a dim glow in the shadows of the chaotic scene unfolding before her.

As the tension mounted and the danger escalated, Clementine's control over her abilities continued to wane, each flicker of plasma serving as a silent warning of the storm brewing within her. Though she fought to maintain her composure, the overwhelming surge of emotion threatened to unleash a torrent of power beyond her control, a tempest of fire and fury waiting to be unleashed upon the world.

The man in the light, feather-like chainmail armour jumped Duncan first, hitting his red-coloured barrier with a shattering punch which he followed up with a series of punches, in an attempt to keep Duncan's focus on him while the women in quick flashes of movement dashed to the side flanking Duncan to get to Clementine.