LC: Super Scrubs Issue #1

Psion reacts instinctively and puts up an energy shield over himself... then grits his teeth as he mumbles through the psychic connection "thank me later," and extends the shield to Sable, Nocturne, and Arachknight.

The group is not closely clustered together, so Psion has to strain to provide telekinetic protection for everyone. The huge, shimmering dome is unstable as the bomb lands…

Distracted with hurling the plane far from the fight, Atrophy hears the explosion before he sees it. Turning back towards the action, he sees the fiery plume rising from the middle of the base — where his companions had just been standing!

As he flies lower, sirens are going off and emergency teams are scrambling. Black smoke boils into the air, masking the devastation to the buildings caught in the bomb blast… but as the white-clad, would-be hero touches down, several members of the team come stumbling out of the fire.

Psion’s shield held!

"So the bomb was the finale then," Atrophy swooped back towards the rising plume, disappointed that he had misread the situation to think that dealing with ordnance-dropping bomber jets was the next part of the challenge. That was a lot of resources to throw at their team in order to ascertain if they could step up to become the next squadron of heroic defenders. Atrophy tried to imagine what manner of threat they were anticipating, and how soon that would arrive.

"I'll bet their conclusion is that we need more teamwork." His teammates were looking worse for wear, for it had been a rough battle. But it appeared that they pulled through, even the physically weakest among them. On his part, he felt that his own learning point was that he wasn't able to think enough like a hero. Sure, he pulled the first bus to safety, but after that he never made it back to save the second. Was it the case that all heroes would put others first, before themselves?

Sable had just been about to try leap for it, when the bomb detonated right above her. She tries to gather up the energy around her, to weave it around her body in anticipation… only to find that someone had beat her to it.

And then it was gone, dissipating as quickly as the heat from the fire overhead. Sable looks about, stumbling and thoroughly exhausted.

She lets the emergency crew come to her, if only so that she can sit for a moment on something that wasn’t blasted rubble…

Atrophy held his tongue. He came out of the exercise less scathed than the rest of his would be team. The fight was dangerous, with the safeties off. Were they prepared to roll out the medivac if someone had fallen? It seemed hypocritical to check when everything was over.

There was something ticking away though for Atrophy. He didn't need medical attention, but he couldn't sustain his power for very long. Not with such intense usage.

"What the hell was all of that?" Sable asks, her voice dripping with teenage sass.

"We expecting someone to drop a plane full of bombs and mechs on our heads anytime soon? Besides you guys, I mean!" she barbs, and then winces as medical presses something stingy into her wounds!

When the emergency crews finally get Psion back to a wakeful state, he's even more disoriented than normal. In his frail, sing-song voice he says, "the shield held. The shield held." His head bobbles from side to side as someone pushes his wheelchair over to him. He waves off the offered help from medical staff and tries to climb into the chair himself only for his tired arms to fail him. He grits his teeth and grimly accepts the assistance of the medics, letting them lift him and put him back in his chair.

He looks around, sees the rest of the team assembling near the blonde... whatever her name was... and telekinetically pushes himself toward the group. He missed her roll call and the responses of the team, so he says nothing. He sits silently, his head wobbling back and forth on his wavering neck, his posture slouched, trying desperately to remember what it was he was doing here.

Were they going to fight something? No, they'd already fought something. Did they win? It seemed like it. Those children... were they still alive? He looks around as if seeing them all for the first time, but remains silent for once, no inane babbling this time.

The last few moments are a blur. She 's trying to hold onto the bus, then she's flying though the air and arms are around her.

Then the bombs hits. She doesn't even have time to try and turn in a futil attempt to shield her teammate.

Then.. nothing happens. The explosion is around them. But not on them. Had someone else done something?

She stands up with Arachknight, giving a confiming nod she is okay. 'Thank you.' She would have survived the fall most likely but aid was appreciated. They were meant to be teamates after all.

As they all gather she looks around. They were one down. Psion. Someone had been left behind. She is about to mive, go back and look for him when she spotta him with medics. And then ignoring the medics and coming over. Well he was alive at least.

'I believe many of us sustained injuries and need attention.'

She looks to Sable as she has a go at Baker. True it had been very intense, but a test was a test. Her military training had never been quite this extreme but if things weren't hard then it wasn't a true test. Still she was concerned they had not performed well.

"Just a little trial by fire," Baker responds to Sable.

"You're going to see a lot worse than that out in the field if you land this gig. And okay, even if you don't think you need medical attention, you should get checked out. Hydrate. Breathe." She points to a tent when Nocturne voices that there are probably more than a few minor injuries.

"Head right over there if it's not urgent."

Sam Fox and John Lung come into half-shouting range at that point, and the black woman speaks up as they keep walking to close the rest of the distance.

"Hey! Y'all did great! Unofficial score right now is seventy eight, and I'm here to tell you that that's a killer score! Y'all should be proud!"

Atrophy still said nothing, something else entirely preoccupying his mind. He made a beeline for the tent, not to seek treatment, but privacy. They had his file, that much was certain. But still, secret identities were still a thing, weren't they?

The white and gray clad ex-villain disappeared into the tent.

"Fire, then fire and some more fire!" Sable says with a roll of her eyes.

"What do you mean if we get the gig?" she adds, equally dismissive!

Seventy-Eight out of what?…