Trawling through the dormitory levels of the Umbrella Academy, Diego tried to blow off some of the steam which had built up after that disaster of a family meeting; of course, it hadn't ended in a punch-out, so it was only marginally better than their usual get togethers. But only just. What right does Luther think he has to come barging in here like he's still the leader?! Diego huffed, And here he is walking around like turning off Mom is no big deal! It's just like when we were kids! As he wandered, Diego found himself lost to the memories that were engraved into every inch of these old walls.
A fond smile lifted his lips as he pictured himself half-dressed in both the Umbrella Academy school uniform and the skin-tight costumes that they wore on missions. He was reminded of days where Allison would race down the stairs with watery toothpaste still dripping from her chin as she cursed out Five for Blinking into places right under her foot. Five, of course, would shoot some snide or cheeky comment back at her before he was off and racing down the hallway, intent on beating them to the car.
Just as it was a mission & a half to get a normal child out of the house to be on time for anything, the same could also be said for the children of the Umbrella Academy. Because Diego could recall several times when their father had stomped up & down the halls, clapping his hands and calling for them all to hurrying up as his patience wore thin. Mom, of course, had taken a far more gentile approach when rounding them up; mostly when helping them find what they thought they had lost or fixing broken zippers that refused to cooperate. And then there were those times that Mom had helped Diego with trying to spit out the words he wanted to say without sounding like a broke record player. It had been hard to overcome his stutter, but under Mom's tutelage, he had eventually gotten there.
Diego didn't know how long he lost himself to the bittersweetness of memories long past, but as he trailed his fingers over old brick walls, the street lamps outside flickered to life and his siblings returned to the academy for the night, he found himself wondering where the hours had gone. Led only by his grumbling stomach, Diego made his way back towards the scullery where he was sure he would find his mother bustling about the kitchen, at least that was the idea, but something made him pause at the intersection of the dormitories.
A pair of guns cocked to his right and a subdued whoosh from something inflating pulled his attention over to the side where he found himself face-to-face with two business suits in carnival masks standing threateningly at the end of the hall. Diego paused for a moment, brows furrowed in confusion before he quickly palmed a couple of knives and booked it down the hallway, doing his best to outrun the bullets.
RATTA~TATTA~TAT! RATTA~TATTA~TAT! RATTA~TATTA~TAT!
Ducking into a small alcove over by the stairs, Diego waited in the dimly-lit shadows until one of the masked assailants came close enough that he could attack. Sucking in a deep breath, he launched himself forward and grabbing ahold of the outstretched firearm, was able to yank it out of their grip before he began to wail on them. "Cha-cha! Shoot 'im!" The blue bear in Diego's grasp cried. He seemed more annoyed than anything (Diego certainly was, that damn mask of his refused to give under his punches but at least the body still took a few hits).
"Get out of the way, dumbass!" Cha-Cha scolded as she tried to find an opening to shoot Number Two. That opportunity came when Diego kicked Hazel back far enough that he could escape up the stairs under the hail of gunfire. "C'me on!"
RATTA~TATTA~TAT! RATTA~TATTA~TAT! RATTA~TATTA~TAT!
Racing through the manor, Diego barely gave it a second thought before he hopped the mezzanine railing and jumped down to the floor below. Mercifully, he landed on one of the many couches spread around the place, catching a mouthful of fur from Klaus' raggedy jacket as he did so. But for once, he wasn't going to complain, instead rolling from the seat and scrambled around the back for at least a little bit of shelter. Glancing upwards, Diego caught sight of the bullet holes that decorated his father's portrait and a strange cocktail of feelings welled up inside him. On the one hand, a petty vindictive part of him was happy to see his father's most beloved portrait ripped to shreds (he couldn't wait to see Luther's reaction it), but on the other hand he was upset that they had ruined one of the few things that still pictured their father. Sir Reginald may have been an asshole, cruel and unyielding, but he was still their father, despite their misgivings.
RATTA~TATTA~TAT! RATTA~TATTA~TAT! RATTA~TATTA~TAT!
Soon, Dad's portrait wasn't the only thing being blown to bits. Feathers flew as throw cushions were pierced, wooden splinters took flight as the coffee tables were shot up and the consistent ping, ping, ping of bullets bouncing off of the marble pillars were only intermittently broken up by the occasional bullet which lodged itself in the surrounding walls. Diego curled in on himself, hunching as low as he could behind the back of the couch in an attempt to not get shot; at least that was until his siblings reappeared and attacked the assailants from behind.
Luther, big & strong Luther, simply walked up to the closest gunman and grabbed them by the scruff, before tossing them clear across the room and into the foyer beyond. Allison moved next, kicking the shit out of the other, before he too joined the pink dog in the foyer. "Who the hell are these guys?!" Allison demanded, rubbing at her throat where one of them had grabbed her.
"Who the hell are these people?" Hazel sighed in exasperation as she propped herself up onto her elbows and lifted her mask just enough to stare at her partner.
"I dunno" He shrugged, "But at least now we know who owns the shoe"
"You're welcome, by the way" Luther sneered as Diego clambered to his feet.
"I was doing just fine, thank you!" Diego replied, a little annoyed at Luther's snooty tone.
"Oh yeah! You really had them going there—!"
"—Hey! You ever hear of a rope-a-dope?"
RATTA~TATTA~TAT! RATTA~TATTA~TAT! RATTA~TATTA~TAT!
"Shit!" Diego dropped back to the floor.
"Get out of here! Go! Now!" Luther tried to shoo his siblings out of the way, but he only succeeded in getting Allison clear.
"LUTHER! GO!" Diego roared over the rapid fire when he saw that the blonde appeared to be debating about whether or not he should run back into the fray. Mercifully, Number One actually listened to him for once and instead pushed Allison back along the corridor as Diego was left to fend for himself. Army crawling along the floor, Diego was eventually able to pull himself into a small alcove by the bar and from there moved to follow after his siblings with the intent to drive these strange people from their house.
"You wanna Rumour this psycho?" Diego greeted as he sauntered into the scullery, having followed the sound of rapid gunfire. There, he found his sister sprawled across the old breakfast table with curls laid about her head like a halo. It would've been pretty, if not for the situation at hand.
"I don't need to" Allison hissed in reply as she pushed herself off of the wooden table, wiping away the blood that dripped from her lip."Because this bitch just pissed me off!"
"We just want the boy" Cha-Cha stated, squaring up to Allison with a broken pool stick in either hand.
"Oh?" Allison quirked a mocking brow. She wasn't sure if the woman meant her brother, Five or her nephew, Theodore; but either way, she was going to make sure that they laid a hand on neither of them. "Well, in that case—"
Allison charged at Cha-Cha with a wicked blood lust gleaming in her eye, but even as the pair exchanged blows (one trained to be an assassin and the other to be a hero), it was clear that there was a difference between their skill set. Taking a roundhouse kick to the face, Allison collapsed against the coffee table with grunt and Diego took that cue to step in. Exchanging blues with Cha-Cha, Diego quickly found himself rather irritated with the broken pool sticks which battered at his knuckles like a taut strapping cane.
Eyeing up the foosball table, Number Two eventually decided on freeing one of the sticks from the game to be used in retaliation. It had to be said that metal would always outstretch wood and as he easily pushed the masked woman back, Allison clambered back to her feet with a palette knife in her hand. Working together, the two siblings were able to outmatch the intruder and sent her running for the stairs when it became clear that she wasn't going to get what she wanted from the two.
"Get her" Allison offered Diego the knife and without much ado, he flung the knife after their fleeing opponent. All it took was a flick of his wrist and a small twitch of his power for the blade to redirect itself, curving around the corner and bury itself deep into the buttock of the fleeing woman.
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH—!" The childish scream that echoed throughout the house rang high & loud, rattling the walls and sinking deep into their bones. It was a chilling thing that shook Diego to his core. He knew that voice. And if he was here, then something was clearly wrong.
"What the hell was that?!" Allison called, hands slapped over her ears in an attempt to block out the shrieking sound.
"C'me on" Diego called, leading the way back up to the main floor where he hoped that their nephew was still in one piece (he did not want to face Vanya's wrath should something happen to him).
Choir practice had run a little later than anticipated (extracurriculars were still happening even though it was EOTC week) that day and Theodore had tried to get a hold of his vera to very little success. To top it all off, Milton had sent him multiple messages of all the LANE Keepers still swarming their street. The numbers had dwindled since Don Fën's visit a couple of days prior, but it was odd that they were still there. Usually, they would have moved on by this point, which meant that they believed he was still in the area (Milton had more giddy questions & theories about the whole ordeal, so much so that they almost bordered on obsessive) and that meant that whomever they thought was hiding him (or had been hiding him) would be ripped asunder.
So, home wasn't exactly an option right now, which was why he turned to the only other place he could think of: The Umbrella Academy. He reasoned, that with A'Doro dead, that meant it was safe to visit, right? And if Vera wasn't at home or responding to his missives, then maybe she was there? Maybe she had gotten into another passionate argument with Ven Allison which was why she couldn't pick up the phone? Or maybe she and Don Diego had gone to get dinner? Either way, it seemed like the best place to start.
Which was why he found himself sequestered in one of the sparse subway cars that held only a couple of people. Fighting the languid lizard blinks that threatened to pull him under, Theodore yawned tiredly as he hugged his schoolbag close, as he watched the people in the car around him. The journey from school to the academy wasn't far and Theodore found himself thoroughly preoccupied by the made-for-TV scene playing out in front of him, just a couple of seats down. A man—likely inebriated—was dressed in only the top half of a Spongebob Squarepants costume (like one of those cosplayers you'd see around Times Square) and he was quite heartily wrestling with a businessman (who kept kicking away his rather hefty large black briefcase) in a two-piece suit and a carnival pig mask. The best part? Not one person got up to help either party.
"Next stop: Fifth Avenue…" Trilled the automated tannoy, alerting the remaining conscious passengers of the next upcoming station.
Mm, this is me. Theodore hummed as he clambered to his feet, hauling himself from the mysteriously sticky seat and swung his bag over his shoulder before he made his way back up to the street. The trip from the subway station to the Umbrella Academy was brief; one that was occasionally filled with the chatter of a wayward drunk, the pleading of the (not-quite) homeless who lay draped around the stoops & side alleys of the station or the burning stare of a faceless LANE Keeper patrolling the streets.
It was dark by the time Theodore pushed his way through the iron-wrought gates of the Umbrella Academy and up to the front door. "Lo? Vera? Don? Ven? Is anyone here?" Theodore called out into the void of the academy. As late as it was, Theodore wasn't exactly expecting anyone to still be up & about when he stumbled in through the door; as such, the sight that he was met with stopped him dead in his tracks.
Bullet holes riddled the living room, turning the furniture into Swiss cheese and feathers swamped the floor, making it look like someone had just murdered a goose. A creak to the left of him had Theodore turning just in time to catch sight of another masked businessman (this one in a grinning blue bear mask) who was baring down on him with a morning star gripped in his hands.
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH—! Ack!" Frightened and caught off-guard, Theodore screeched high and loud, activating his Legacies which made him sound like a banshee just as the pointed metal ball connected with his crown.
Left dazed from the hit, Theodore was easily tossed aside onto a nearby coffee table as his head ached and his vision swam. Not that his assailant was left unscarred; the banshee scream had rattled the furniture around them, vibrating with the frequency of Theodore's scream and blood dripped from the bear's ears, trailing down his neck as he found himself suddenly deafened by a boy thrice his junior.
Mercifully (perhaps called to the living room by his scream) Don Luther appeared just in the nick of time, blocking Hazel from doing further damage to the boy who lay groaning & wheezing for breath on the coffee table a stone's throw away. "Hey, asshole" Don Luther greeted from behind Hazel as he yanked the morning star clear from his grip and tossed it aside (using far too much force that it lodged itself in a nearby wall) "Looking for me?"
Dazed & confused, Theodore barely registered it when Don Luther hauled Hazel away from him, instead pulling him over to the foyer where there was more elbow room for the two men to swing their weight around. Back & forth the two tussled, neither willing to give ground to the other even as they fought each other with everything they had (well, not everything, Luther didn't want to accidentally kill the guy. That wasn't the kind thing a hero would do).
"TED!" Don Luther grunted, calling over his shoulder as he was tossed about. "GET OUT OF HERE!"
"Yeah…" Theodore murmured, minutely nodding his head when he glanced up to see Don Luther, the strongest of his dons, get lifted clean off of his feet and slammed down on to the floor. Hard. Rolling from the coffee table, Theodore ran for the other end of the living room where he slid himself behind the bar and ducked into a small alcove meant for a mini fridge (which had long since been hijacked from the bar and nestled into the shared bedroom of Numbers Four and Six). Curling up tight, Theodore tried to make himself as small as possible as he hugged his bag to his chest and muffled his breaths into his collar.
Theodore wasn't sure how long he had remained hidden there, listening to the thumps, grunts and groans of the two men as they fought each other; only that when he deemed it safe enough to emerge once more, he found Don Diego and Ven Allison helping Don Luther to his feet. Hidden in the safety of the doorway, Theodore could only watch with his heart beating in trepidation as the three clambered back to their feet. "…C'me on, Luther, get up!" Don Diego grunted as he helped to haul his brother to his feet. "Ah, you gotta cut down on that fast food, soldier!"
"Are you okay?" Allison worried.
SCHING!
Theodore didn't have to wait long for the other shoe to drop. With a simple slice of the chandelier's rope, it all came crashing down and it was only thanks to Don Luther's quick thinking that they didn't all get smashed beneath the wrought-iron light fixture. "OUT OF THE WAY!" Don Luther quickly shoved his siblings aside as they chandelier came down upon him.
CRASH!
"LUTHER!" Ven Allison wailed as Theodore sucked in a hissed breath through clenched teeth. Would they be having another funeral so soon after the last one?
"Nngh!" Don Luther grunted as he (miraculously) pushed the chandelier off of himself. In the process however, his jacket became caught in the ornate fixtures that decorated the light and everyone found themselves exposed to something so mind boggling that even Don Diego found himself lost for words. Rubbing the palms of his hands over his eyes, Theodore checked to see if he was really seeing a shirtless Don Luther with the upper torso of an ape, standing next to the broken light fixture relatively unharmed.
"Holy shit…!" Breathed Don Diego, echoing everyone sentiments, exactly.
That seemed to break Don Luther from his reverie because his eyes darted about the place looking for a suitable exit. From Theodore in the doorway to the living room (who, Luther was glad to note was relatively unharmed, save for the small trickle of blood on his forehead) to Diego at the base of the stairs and Allison who stood over by the front door. All of his exits were blocked, but that mattered not for a man who could survive a chandelier being dropped on him. With tears pricking at his eyes, Number One raced for the stairs, brushing past Number Two on the way and disappeared off towards his bedroom.
When the other shoe had dropped, it thundered.