<div class="floatleft">(http://img59.imageshack.us/img59/3643/stormhalle2sm.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name/Alias:</strong>Ororo Munroe/Storm<br/><strong>Origin:</strong>Mutant<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Behind and above the main group, at the Doom Ship<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Any<br/><br/><hr/><br/>It was all business, at least it was now. The mission was what was important, and completing it. The winds this far up in the air whipped the long locks of white hair that flowed behind her violently. She could 'feel' the wind currents their ebb and flow like the flow of a great river, one that went on forever. A few moments to enjoy the quiet, the wide open spaces, even though they were filled with mechanical machines of death and destruction.<br/><br/>She watched the group head into the fray purpousfully hanging back even as the rest of the small group she was with rushed forward to engage the swarming machines. Small fights broke out and she watched carefully as the engagement began in earnest. With a silent inward sigh she focuses her solid white eyes onto a large group of the machines. Gracefully she extends her arms, the cape that was connected to each of her wrists and back fluttered out into almost a wing-like shape. Rolling onto her back she drives arms still outstretched.<br/><br/>With the moves of a ballerina her dark form a form only broken up by the stark white of her hair dives into the biggest collection of machines, zigging and zagging between them until she was certain she had a large collection of them following.<br/><br/><strong>"That is right, come and get me!"</strong><br/><br/>Her voice was loud, deep and commanding even as she taunts the machines. Arcs of electricity already begin to dance over her body as she draws the a group away. Once she feels she has a good amount of them in range, and away from the rest of her team she pivots herself so that her arms extend towards the sky, the wind twisting around her faster and faster. Small banks of clouds form around her body taking on the tell-tale 'shape' of a tropical hurricane. Arcs of lightning dancing between the growing banks of twisting clouds. Winds moving to twist the machines themselves, smash them together, and pulverize them with bits of ice, and discharges of electricity in a single overwhelming attack on the group she had lead away.