EVENT LOG 003

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: September 10-11
WHAT: New Amsterdam's Morningstar recruits come under attack.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Violence, injury, death.

> EVENT LOG #003

"High noon" still has a resonating historical significance not lost on the people of New Amsterdam. Old cowboy movies, complete with John Wayne standing in a dusty, old street are imprinted upon people's memories, helping them recall a simpler past where grudges could be settled with guns. By 2511, these movies have been remade countless times over with different set pieces, but nostalgia continues to be an ever-present factor. It's not nostalgia that drives the UNA soldiers and Morningstar agents into position during this hour, but the time itself serves as a reminder. A call to a different time and a different past.

Outside, the sun burns bright, but people sleep soundly, shades drawn securely over their windows to create a false darkness. This is why the UNA strikes at noon: their targets will be vulnerable, comforted by the presence of daylight only a drawn shade away,

Across town, Morningstar's agents are preparing for their own strike. One of them makes a joke about the non hour. He's told to shut it. They have fifteen minutes. Is everyone ready? Their uniforms are black, tightly fitting. Each of them pulls their mask over their faces. Up ahead, there's a wall to scale.

Fifteen minutes and the plan goes into motion. Each agent knows the costs of this mission. Their last one ended up with numerous dead – lost – with no reward. UNA soldiers are far more threatening than the armed guards Morningstar faced on that day, but the reward is more sure. Worth the risk. They're secure in what they need to do.

Then it's time. Across the city, the UNA soldiers descend in perfect unison. Separate but thinking with one mind, one goal. Eliminate a festering problem, one that only stands to grow in a world haunted by chaos and trauma. It's their job to set things right. To restore order to a world that is currently without.

> THE SAFEHOUSE

About forty five minutes in to the widespread assault, El sends out a message to everyone in the safehouse. This time, zeir communication is immediate, without the steady scrolling of text. Prepared in advance:

Hey, so. Emergency everyone. Come to the safehouse ASAP. Morningstar agents are in trouble, including a number who have helped you behind the scenes. Gaby will tell you more once you get there.

Once everyone shows up, crowded inside the part of the safehouse with the cots, Gaby gives everyone the rundown. The risk. The place where the rest of the agents are – this last bit of information being shared with an uneasy edge, arms crossed and body language giving off her discomfort. There are other people at risk, people who can't fight, who try to undermine the corporations with their regular lives, doing their best to keep the people they care about safe from their rebellious activity.

After she hands out the gear, she insists that it must be returned. But Gaby isn't stupid. Her desperation is inherent in her decisions, in the information that follows: exposing most of the inactive safehouses, giving away the addresses of the people likely in danger. Every Morningstar contact in New Amsterdam is likely at risk. So far, agents in other megacities aren't being targeted – yet. But this operation could be a model for future UNA efforts to eliminate the Morningstar threat.

The safehouses are spread across the city. Typically present in disheveled and forgotten pieces of real estate, there will be squatters and homeless alike taking up space as they move inside with the agents. This may prove a risk, and they may need to be bribed to go elsewhere, offered food and supplies. Other safehouses will be beneath bars, convenience stores, and through the storage room in less expensive apartment buildings – businesses and buildings owned by long-time Morningstar agents, kept ready in the case of an emergency like this one.

None of the safehouses will be prepared for living with the exception of cots and communal restrooms ready for use. This is a problem, but not a priority. She'll ask that everyone get out there and save the lives of the agents. Bring them and their families in safely – the rest can be figured out after that.

> RESTORING ORDER

Given the limitations over real estate and space even in a city as large as New Amsterdam, every citizen lives in an apartment building. The great majority of them were meant to be built quickly, similar layouts and designs behind them. A quick bit of research will get anyone the floor plans for these places – they're publicly available, ready for potential tenants. Most of these places are no dreamhouse, however: small and contained, they show the lifestyle of the typical Morningstar agent.

Any of the agents with a child – and there will only ever be one per agent, with the restrictions on childbirth – will have a roomier place, with better furnishing and more space for a child to run and grow up. These places will afford the family within better privacy, and many of them have drones and advanced robotics to help maintain the household, even caring for their child and keeping the door locked as the UNA soldiers move inside.

Where it's viable, the majority of UNA soldiers will move through the front door of these buildings. Never numbered over five, these soldiers will take the endless staircase up, erasing what little chances there are to run into anyone along the way. The knocks are just a cover to soothe the close-packed neighbors. Not all are fooled, and that's where the calls to the NAPD come in – though the UNA is prepared for this, too. Ready to assert their jurisdiction. Rather: their bosses are prepared. These soldiers have their orders and beyond that, only follow their orders with their formidable physicality and swift training.

But they are physically assertive: most of them are tall, seemingly without gender within thick black, metal armor. Despite their size and their robotic carapace, they are human underneath. Their extensive armor doesn't slow them down, instead seeming to propel them forward in a fight, letting them predict their enemies' moves as the mask they wear provides diagnostics and likely attacks on the fly. They carry extensive weapons and supplies, all to wear down any opponents. When they fight together, their actions are perfectly complementary.

They won't start a fight, but as soldiers, they are prepared. Though they enter through the front door, they intend to leave through a window, into a large flying vehicle outside, ready to hold the targets and bring them to a temporary dropsite. They don't expect any assailants, anyone to provide trouble – but they wouldn't be very well-trained, well designed if they couldn't expect or deal with the unexpected. They won't shoot unless someone forces the matter. Their training means their stature should be enough to put down most threats.

> A WELL-LAID TRAP

Confident and well-trained, the Morningstar agents have the plan ahead of them all mapped out. They know the shifts, the patrol patterns, especially at hours like this one. Fewer, right now, but they aren't nonexistent. Several strike teams spread out, ready to move to dismantle the UNA soldiers on site as needed. These are combat-trained agents, but five versus three UNA soldiers, or two, or even one still leads to odds where they don't win. Morningstar knows these soldiers intimately, has studied and discerned their few weaknesses. But these UNA soldiers are formidable opponents.

UNA Soldiers en route to Morningstar's goal will be handled with an eerie lack of follow-up. No reports of reinforcements incoming. The swift-moving Morningstar agents are too focused on their goal, which is close now, to worry about the implications. Besides, their information told them most agents would be away on training exercises. Reinforcements being delayed is no surprise.

Each agent has their own reason for being here, for believing that Morningstar needs to be more proactive, more forceful in fighting back. They aren't career soldiers, but people who thought that they could wield a gun and change a world that hides its problems under false promises and shimmering gloss. Many are impatient, frustrated: they were given a lead on weapons in June. They weren't mislead then, at least not intentionally, but what they got instead was a bus full of disoriented people. This cache is real, verified, and vulnerable, housed here temporarily before being moved for some unknown operation.

Once the Morningstar agents are all inside, the concealed UNA soldiers left at the base line up in formation. Perfectly tailored for the fight ahead, they move onto the site. Any agents on lookout duty will see the UNA moving in, ready to lay waste to anyone in there. This is a trap, they message frantically. The very real weapons inside are meant to mock with false hope.

The UNA aren't worried about Morningstar making off with their toys. After all, this is just as planned.

> INTERLUDE

Numerous officers pass by the holding cells in the NAPD's twelfth precinct, talking softly about what can they even do, muttering to themselves. Others pop a squat nearby and call it a well-earned day off. Let those soldiers take care of whatever mess they're cleaning up. That's not their job.

It's around this time that a third, unidentified group, takes advantage of the chaos. Well-dressed despite what is a late hours right now, they head into the precinct to take care of a dangling loose end. They show credentials that link them to New Beijing's governing body and personal security, they claim the men temporarily known as Tak and Alexei. As they're brought out of their cells, they're injected with the same compulsory drug as always, leaving them veritable walking zombies at first, leaving them unable to speak or act as they're given orders that tell them to do otherwise.

The records of these men will disappear with this action, the two of them swept away into the back of an expensive four-door sedan. The whole incident erased. Two somehow anonymous men didn't kill semi-innocent bystanders during the festival. As long as the records can be trusted, that was a fantasy. A whimsy.

Morningstar cameras will see this sedan stop near the current safehouse, near the typical entrance, and order Hei and Jake out. "Stay here. Sit down. Don't do or say anything until someone comes to retrieve you. It'll be a bit – they're tied up right now."

The man in the passenger seat in the front rolls down his window, leaning forward on his arm. His face is concealed, utilizing technology that's not the same but not dissimilar to what Morningstar has at their disposal. "Try not to do anything else too stupid, will you? The cops are gonna have a bug up their asses about you idiots."

And then the sedan rolls away, lifting up and passing through the city. Morningstar cameras will spot a specific – or perhaps the more apt word is "suspicious" – lack of license plate.

> MEDI-UNITS

Each of the safehouses were designed for the worst case scenario. There is a medi-unit in all of the safehouses, a large and complex machine that can heal most ills, but given the expensive nature of their design and the risk of using them, they're not used lightly.

The medi-units are reserved for the direst of needs. come into play. Dependent on a person's time of death to bring them back to the living, they need the exact time so that someone can clock it in and prepare the restoration process correctly. There are many risks in lacking that information – someone may come back damaged, unhealed, hurt in some way. They may not live for long. Assuming that a body is brought in with a time of death, they'll be directed to a safehouse with a free unit.

The person is kept in a medically induced coma while the machine repairs their body. What dreams someone experiences will be at the end point – which can be between 48 and 60 hours – as they slowly surface, starting to return to the world of the living. As they surface, their mind will be encumbered by images of bright blue lights glowing, swirling, communicating – but language seems thoroughly out of reach.

Once the medi-unit opens, the person inside will be thirsty. Desperate for water. But there will be no other signs of the wear and tear on their bodies.

> FINAL OOC NOTES

Please refer to the OOC EVENT POST for this event for all OOC info, including suggestions for directions on how to engage with the event and the questions thread for any questions regarding this event. The outcome for this event will depend upon character plans and actions developed in both this OOC post, and any additional plots brought to the moderators. Please feel free to submit any game-changing plans to us under the questions thread – but we will be reading all comments on the post!

The Operation will continue until September 11, IC time. An aftermath wrap up post will be made on January 26 which will detail the resolution and fallout of the event.

As a reminder, there is one power level up available for this event. This will be granted for a thread of at least 5 action/log comments containing your character utilizing their power in some way. They will need to reach the 5 comments required by FEBRUARY 23 to be eligible. Submission will be handled on the wrap up post.

Our Activity Check will be posted tomorrow, January 20, at 9 PM UTC. It will run for seven days and close on January 27. We will not post a warning list.

> NAVIGATION

Comments

keith | voltron

[secondnature]

i. contacts to rescue

[If nothing else, Keith can say that he was meant to do an operation like this. He may not have any of his Blade of Marmora gear, but that doesn't matter. He can manage with what Morningstar has supplied. What lies ahead of him is a little scary, but he knows that he can handle it. Confidence will be important. He can't go in blind believing he's going to mess up. That's also why he's not bothering to take the lead unless the situation calls for it. That's not needed.

But he will take initiative. After all, this is what he's good at—what he lives for.

a. stupid jock—once on site, Keith is going to move fluidly and with ease. He'll climb up buildings, scaling them as if he's been doing this crap his entire life. (As far as he's concerned, he has been doing it most of his life. Most of Keith's athleticism was a way to push himself while alone).

If anyone's struggling, he'll stop, extending a hand.] Here, I'll help you up.

b. fighting the UNA—whether the UNA are getting away, are putting up a fight, or something in-between, Keith won't want to let them get away. He'll have his gun in hand, ready to shoot, but the moment they take his blindspot, he'll make a frustrated sound.] Come on. We have to go after them.

c. general saving people stuff—or maybe Keith will just be working with people to go hero things. That's kind of his thing. Insert cheesy Voltron lines here. Either way, he's willing to help his fellow displaced, whether it's in a fight, to save them, or something else.]

ii. downtime

[Depending on the circumstances—and knowing they need to wait for more information—Keith will stop in at one of the safehouses for some food, some rest, and some time to help stock. Lifting boxes and helping people settle in isn't difficult, even if his arms and legs haven't had the workout he had while regularly running around as a rebel agent or paladin. He's eased back into it, at least for the most part.

a. helping out—simply put, Keith will be helping stock. He's done this before for Morningstar and will do it again. He knows what's a priority.

b. building bombs—while he's missing some key components, Keith knows enough about explosives to put together what he does have to set up a station in a corner. His lips twist down as he messes with wires, preparing them for wherever these explosives will be needed.]

iii. rivals | closed to damian wayne

[How they got here involves a lot of things that Keith is fairly certain that Damian (Hafid, as far as he knows) would call stupid. One: there are two Morningstar contacts living in the same building. Two: that means there are twice the number of soldiers to take them out. Three: No, actually, that's the problem. It makes sense that they would head to this complex together, given their individual histories. The bad part is that while the people are running down the many, many sets of stairs to freedom, the UNA soldiers are much larger than the two of them.

And in their way.

Keith backs up, falling into place beside Damian. He knows that there's a good chance that they're screwed. How can they not be?]

How do you wanna do this? [Not that they have a lot of time to discuss. They sure as heck don't.]

iv. wildcard

[Anything that doesn't apply to the above can go here! I'm flexible.]

[batricide]

[ This is, in fact, so stupid he can barely fathom it. Who allows their agents to live so close to each other? Damian clicks his tongue in annoyance. He's already been running himself ragged all over town, getting involved in other people's fights, doing his damnedest to keep people alive despite the overwhelming odds. This isn't the first scrape up with the UNA he's had so far, but...

Not that he's letting it show here. From the way he's holding himself, you'd never guess how much pain he was actually in. How hard a hit his fighting skills have taken. He's climbed mountains with broken arms, he's faced Gods, and aliens, and lived to tell the tale and make the world better.

And above all else, the al Ghuls do not fear death. Death, after all, is just another test. ]

The kids are going to trip on the stairs. [ Is what he says finally, adjusting the mask on his face. If they repel down they'll just get spotted. ] Their parents will lag back to save them and get captured or killed. That can't happen. Pick them up and be ready to run.

[evite]

[ the name of the game today is doing her best — whether it's to get families out of harm's way and shepherding them back to the safehouses, or most recently, to keep a steady voice while noting a failure where families were already lost. the now-orphans had been the hardest for her, their hands small in hers as they crossed the threshold of the sleeping rooms. hard cots and musty-smelling pillows were hardly reassuring, and she had wanted to do more, but it was all she could offer at the moment beyond a promise to come back.

she needs a break afterwards. a few minutes of quiet, maybe a drink of water, something to clear her head in order to head back out. it's during said break that she finds keith again, cross-legged on the ground tinkering with what looks suspiciously like a whole bunch of very dangerous stuff. ]

Hey. [ #casual ] What's all this?

i.b I didn't hit you up for planning so hope this is okay!

[ofobedience]

[They've never met face to face, and so perhaps Keith won't be certain that the person he appears to be fighting alongside now is someone he's conversed with before, someone he's failed to get along with. Does it matter, in the heat of battle? Hardly, and if nothing else, having Giovanni standing by one's side in a fight is a far preferable thing to being positioned against him.

He grins big, two pistols in hand. He's already moving.]

Of course. Take no prisoners, and all that jazz.

[He's in this for the kill.]

trauma unit | closed to shiro

[secondnature]

[Oddly enough, it's Jason's words that get Keith moving. He knows he needs to do something. Help more people. Get to the base that needs more hands on deck, since people are being rescued. He had been sitting beside the pod long enough that he had been immobilized, uncertain. Was it his frustration toward Damian that had kept him from being fast enough? Not that this is a logical thought. It isn't. Not in the least. But he can't help but blame himself. It's easy to see the fault in what he does. Has done. Will do.

This whole blame thing is why he needs to clear his head. He sends a message to Shiro, well aware of where he's helping stock safehouses at the moment.]

Can you meet me? I need some air. A break.

[The geographic pin indicates a point directly between Keith and Shiro—about a ten minute walk for both. It's obvious that Keith isn't keen on breaks. That he's not good at stopping. Slowing down. Relenting. He doesn't even intend for this to be a real break. He just intends to ... talk. To be around Shiro. To feel a little better.

Keith makes it to the point he referenced in only seven minutes. He's no longer wearing the vest, but he has a jacket on to hide the splatters of blood. Unstocked safehouses mean no extra clothes. He'll manage. He's washed his face and hands. It's too warm outside for the jacket, but he'll manage.

He stops at a bench and looks up, watching what few clouds exist move slowly across the sky. It's several hours after the operation began, but still a bit ahead of dusk. Sweat beads over his forehead as he sits and waits.]

i.a

[blyat]

[Getting adjusted to the equipment is at the forefront of Cain's mind once Morningstar begins shoveling it out. New tech is everywhere here, but it's the first they'll be going into a potential firefight without training - he knows he'll be fine. He has to be, because he agreed to do this. Lives are on the line, his own included.

As long as he ignores the prickling sense of wrongness to be alone in it. Because that's not true, they're all here, displaced like refugees in this foreign world and enlisted to save those weaker and less capable, those who can't help themselves. Why does it feel like he doesn't have a choice?

It's surreal to strap the bulletproof vest around his chest and pass the gun from one hand to another, testing the weight. Once the gloves are on, Cain attempts to make use of them - but can't quite get the hang of it without losing traction.

Posed at the base of a wall, one foot off the ground, he shoots Keith a frustrated look.] What, make a habit of wall-climbing? You didn't even have to practice. [Fighting in space was somehow easier...]

ib.

[drivein]

[ Jughead is a human, painfully human, and he doesn't generally know when to quit. he hadn't been there long, but he's already brushing his thumb up against his nose like he's getting ready to fight.

they take cover around one of the closest corners, Jughead with a gun in one hand, though he looks like he'd rather use his fist. ]

Then let's go after them.

[ he's looking like a reckless kid in a crochet crown. ]

clarke griffin | the 100

[strove]

i. setup (safehouses, medical areas, field medic supplies)

[To some degree, this almost feels like a battle. She's been to war with her people. Before Clarke had hit the ground, she never thought she'd be in that position, but less than a year later, and it's what she knows best. Even her time wandering the sand hadn't helped her shake that. War had turned her into Wanheda, and that's who she is now. There is no changing that.

It means that she can keep a cool head. Getting things together is important—whether it's to get supplies to people, setting up the safehouses, or putting together field medic kits. Each of these are well-supplied, but not so much that she expects anyone to do her job. Most of what's there involves antiseptics, bandages, pain relief, and—yes, Jason—medical glue. But it's medical glue.]

Stephen and I will be on call if you need us for anything. I can't speak for him, but I'm ready to go on location if needed.

ii. on location

[Clarke likes to get herself in trouble. If someone asked her to get herself in trouble, she'd be there. But that's the thing—she doesn't need to be asked. The fact that she's on site, trying to help give directions to a mother and her scared child? That's not surprising. She's in a hallway, trying to do her best to stay on alert.

The next bit that passes is quick. A soldier comes out, slamming her hard into the wall. The action is purposeful, breaking her arm in the process. It's her right arm, and while she's in a great deal of pain? She's been in pain before. She nearly died from radiation poisoning. That's not just pain, but miserable in every damn way. As she presses up against the wall, panting in agony, she takes the gun out of her holster—left-handed—and shoots the retreating soldier in the back of his head. The bullet pierces, bringing him down.

If anyone's concerned about a gun going off, Clarke won't be moving anytime soon.]

Yes. I could use a hand up. Please.

iii. medical care (with an odd touch)

[Eventually, Clarke will be that person. Yes, the person who makes a makeshift splint for herself, and goes around trying to help. She does have some pain relievers in her system. A broken arm will heal. Quickly? Maybe not. Not unless someone around has a lot of healing powers, and she's open to it, for the record, because that means she can heal other people.

Most of her care will be diligent regardless, and helped along by her power. It's a difficult balance, but some of the more panicked individuals will tire after a touch of Clarke's hand. While that won't heal her, it'll help, giving her the endurance to manage her pain, her broken arm, and everything else. But it will ... look suspect.

Once the person she's caring for is resting, she'll pull away, a look of guilt on her face.]

I wish we had a way to really reassure them that everything will be fine. [Not really the words someone might expect out of her mouth, but it's not like she's going to open up a line of conversation on her obvious power usage.]

iv. wildcard

[Otherwise, Clarke won't be jumping into most line of fire after her bit with the UNA soldiers. It would be dumb. But she's down for weighty discussions and anything else that comes up.]

ii

[cyberlife]

(connor's one of the men listening specifically for the sound of gunfire, switching his route on a dime. it takes all he has in him to stop himself with a push off of the of a stairwell's landing to halt what momentum he's built up from sprinting down the steps taking him closer to the source and more to shove open the door leading into the hall — blocked.

it moves an inch, then two, then two feet when he backs up to slam his shoulder into the body of it... and that's exactly what it is, dead, already beginning to stiffen, a soldier shot in the back of the head by—) Clarke! (he's panting when he reaches her, dropping to a knee to look her over with a pair of wide eyes and a cursory check over his shoulder. no reinforcements yet, no one to collect the fallen trooper.)

Are you alright? Can you grab onto me? We need to get out of here before they come to collect their guy.

rey (star wars)

[forcevisions]

a. restoring order (ota).
[ it's not that morningstar's goals with the weapons cache isn't important. it's just that rey's priorities are elsewhere.

she'd wanted to help the people in danger to start with — saving lives always had to come before striking the enemy — but the moment they'd mentioned families, there was no chance of her going anywhere else.

walking through the city, rey doesn't wear her mask. she doesn't want to draw attention to the fact that she's carrying a gun, even if it is tucked between the back of her bulletproof vest and her skin, which is obscured by her thick hoodie. she's done her part to group up with whatever other displaced persons she can to make it to the target locations, and as they approach, she gets the mask out and solicits her companion — ]

How do you want to do this? [ while other people were doing silly things like planning in advance, rey was racing against the sun to try and get to those targets. now it's like hm. do i wear infiltrative gear to try and help this terrified family leave their home??? rey is a reliable, prepared partner. ]

b. no one's home (ota).
[ the apartment's empty. one of them is, anyway. and what's left behind is ... bad. it's not terribly obvious, no. the signs of struggle are actually quite muted, enough to indicate that whoever was here never really stood much of a chance. but there's signs of forced entry in the broken door, a stray bullet that has tilted a picture frame, a broken chair that was knocked out of the way and left askew when someone kicked at it while they were dragged from their home.

rey takes a few moments to walk through the living space of the apartment and take these signs in, not just disappointed but devastated into perfect silence by the failure.

then she wanders through the bedrooms, trying to see if there's hints of anything else that the UNA would have found while removing the morningstar agents. it's probably all in the neural implant. probably, it's too late for that also, but — she opens one of the doors and there's a child lying asleep in bed. ]

Kriff. [ an orphan, now, most likely. ]

c. getting injured (for johnny).
[ they're not always empty. rey and co arrive at one of the morningstar agents' residence at the same time as the una. there's more of the una soldiers than there are of her team, and that's bad news, but when they start attacking, coming as a singular, powerful unit, rey is able to get two of them pinned down with her gravity anchor, sweat beading on her forehead under the physical duress of holding them back.

there are four, though, and one of the other two has managed to fire their weapon off. rey tries to hold her power through it so that the others with her can get the morningstar agent and her family out, just has to hold them long enough for it, but the bullets shred through her shoulder and leave a bloody wound behind.

it distracts her in a bad way. the other unanchored — no, that's not right. loosely anchored, she realizes, and they have broken out of it — the other soldier who has broken out of the influence of her gravity charges for her and knocks her back.

back, straight out the window of the apartment complex. she manages to gain only minor traction with the gloves morningstar gave them as she plummets, slowing her fall before she lands in the dumpster with a sick crunch of bone. she's broken a bone before. set it herself, even, but this time it's bad, ribs poking into her lungs. it hurts every time she breathes, even shallowly, and when she tries to sit up, to pull herself out of the dumpster, a screaming pain lances through her chest.

rey groans low and long until it turns to a whimper. ]

d. rey got away safely (for kylo).
[ she's mobile, thanks to johnny, and she has pulled off the mask and gloves and stuffed them with the gun into a bag on her back, but she only uses one strap, because there's blood trickling down her other arm still. he had healed the worst of it, but he couldn't take it all. not without leaving himself in the same position. she's out of the fight, for now. there's nothing more she can do for them.

but she can't go back to the safehouse like this either. if anyone has managed to track her, she'd only lead them right back. so she gets herself to the train station and slumps to the floor, catching her breath, and then she calls the only person she can think to call. ]

Were you serious about telling me where your apartment is? [ because it'd be helpful to have a place to go right about now. ]

d

[warfares]

( he's cleared his target when the message comes in, hoodie up and head down as he pushes his way through a crowd. his fingers flex at his side, curling and uncurling into fists. he can still feel that shimmer of heat rippling over his skin like water. )

Yes.

( thought-to-text. he glances back over his shoulder, briefly, then pushes on. )

Where are you now?

illya kuryakin (tmfu)

[kgbs]

I ➣ ➣ ➣ SAFEHOUSE

[ there is, as always, the urge to not listen to what these people tell him to do. despite multiple people telling him that they're here to help, it's hard for illya to trust himself and very few others.

but, that brief feeling subsides and illya does make his way to the safehouse for what looks to be a briefing. he stands stock still against a wall, arms crossed and expression so hard you could probably chip a diamond. he is listening though and he absolutely recognizes the urgency of the situation.

once the talking seems to be done, illya watches everyone else before he moves, fluid and purposeful to grab some gear and depart the safehouse. ]

II ➣ ➣ ➣ ACTION

[ illya leaves the rescue and triage to others. what he wants to do is find these soldiers and make an example of them. he has been here for awhile now but he still has no real love for the planet, morningstar or anything in between. that does not mean he wants his best chance for leaving here to be quashed. so, he goes, he fights.

he can be found across the city, in alleys and streets, confronting una soldiers with his bare hands. he's armed, yes, but it's very easy to let his anger overtake him and let his fist send soldiers into walls and each other. even when they turn to retreat, illya gives chase, feeling himself overrun with fury.

when there appear to be no soldiers around, he ducks into buildings here and there, checking for anyone that might be around before leaving again. if he finds anyone, he gruffly directs them to safety, ignoring their pleas to stay with him. ]

III ➣ ➣ ➣ INVESTIGATE

[ illya is a spy through and through and while that means defending those that need it, it also means gathering intel. so, when he finds the time, he sometimes picks soldiers to follow, staying to the shadows and listening to conversations.

if someone sees him, he disposes of them quickly but he knows what he is doing and he stays out of sight, lurking in the dark and taking note of anything that might be of use. ]

IV ➣ ➣ ➣ WILDCARD

[ feel free to choose your own adventure. hit me up at spoonishly for plotting. ]

action!

[mercurio]

[prompto's hurrying from one block of the neighborhood to the other, trying to reach a location ping he got on his map. he is deterred from this, however, when one of the una soldiers lands by his feet--from an alley.]

[he stumbles back but maintains his footing, going around the soldier to look at the man responsible for this.]

[the soldier's still alive, twitching as it struggles to get back up on his feet]

Hey! Behind you!

[a una soldier jumps out from a broken window into the alleyway, to confront illya. prompto thinks fast, raising his gun and shooting--the bullet landing on the armored shoulder of the soldier, who only but recoils a bit.]

You're trapping yourself in there!

daisy johnson, aos / mcu.

[evite]

i. › the summoning.

[ el's message comes in the middle of the night — or day, technically speaking. daisy should be sleeping before work, but she's been awake off and on over the last few hours, tinkering with a metallic replica of the zephyr one, a surprisingly relaxing pasttime now that her abilities have become more fluid and controlled.

decorative scale models are put aside, though, when emergency is the word of the day. she hauls ass out of bed and across town, and with no time left to spare, she's in the safehouse and ready to work. with her shaggy hair tied back, black-on-black #teamshield aesthetic in full display, and mouth drawn in a tight line, she listens attentively to the mission briefing offered by gaby. daisy's not the woman's biggest fan — not by a goddamn long shot — but she knows well enough to keep her own opinions in check at a time like this.

as weaponry and gear are handed out, she takes them on with a practiced, efficient approach. guns are weighed in each hand, determining the most comfortable grip and carry, and vests are strapped on with a solemn two-pat process. this isn't daisy's first time strapping up for a potentially deadly mission, and it shows in her motions and the no-nonsense expression on her face. to anyone nearby that might be struggling (or might just be a little too tired to be all there this early), daisy chimes in with a surprisingly quiet offer: ]

Do you need a hand with that?

ii. › the rescuing.

[ the kids are her priority.

families with children are marked with yellow stars on daisy's gps overlay, the first being just a few blocks away, in an apartment building she had looked into upon first arriving into the city. from the tour, she remembers being told about the identical layouts, how all the units in each complex mirrored one another to ensure everyone received the same amounts of space and sunlight. it doesn't take her long to pull up the website of the complex, or to download a 3d rendered floor plan of a sample unit and the blueprints of the building's emergency evacuation paths.

to anyone who's headed out for a rescue mission, daisy's all too happy to forward the info. it may not be the answer to all their problems, but a little extra information never hurt anyone. ]

iii. › the tinkering.

[ in the wake of the una's assault and morningstar's fight back, debris scatters over the city. discarded bullet casings, broken window panes, shattered doors and crumbled brick all litter the floors of buildings and the streets down below. her own gun is useful enough, but sometimes, you just need a little creative boost.

find her stopped in a now-trashed apartment or outside behind a turned-over car, hands warping a blue sheen around a hastily-swept pile of rubbish, her eyes focused intently on said debris spinning in the air, rebuilding itself into something new. something better. maybe it's a gun, maybe it's a shield, maybe it's a heavy ball of metal best suited for throwing at an unsuspecting una soldier's ugly head.

need something made of your own? feel free to ask for it, but you may need to cover her from fire while she works. ]

iv. › the wildcard.

[ find daisy shooting to kill and taking no prisoners all throughout the rescue op! she'll also be coming back to the safehouse later to help gather & transport supplies as needed. any time during the event is cool with me, but feel free to pm or plurk if you wanna hash something specific out with me! ]

the rescuing

[covertness]

[ katelin philips is going to the safehouses to get them set up and offer medical assistance where she can —but bobbi morse is taking the long way around. at the entrance of one of the apartment buildings with a family inside, bobbi meets back up with daisy, batons in hand. ]

Ready?

kaldur'ahm | young justice

[shorelined]

one › preparation

[ kaldur had not yet moved out of the safehouse, so he does not need any time to get there. instead, he waits patiently for others to arrive, for gaby to give them the rundown.

the gear itself is unfamiliar, but putting it on comes as natural as breathing to him, his movements certain. he checks over his weapon, sparing a thought for how much he wishes he had his water-bearers on him. briefly, he catches gaby alone and asks for additional water rations; if he goes out at noon in a heatwave, he will need them if he is meant to function, if he is meant to fight.

and he is willing to fight. ]

I will do all I can to help. [ he assures. his voice is deep. steady and polite.

ask him about the water rations. ask him about the gills that are visible on his neck before he puts on the gear. ask him about his combat experience. or let him check your gear for you, because he will, exuding quiet confidence and determination the whole time. ]

two › rescue ops/team up

[ saving civilians and children ranks higher on kaldur's list of priorities, so he focuses on the apartments. he will carry children out of apartments or herd adults if he manages to arrive before the una. if he does not, he will observe for a moment to develop a plan. if he's not alone, it will most of the time boil down to this: ] I will engage. Get the civilians to safety.

[ and off he goes, wishing all the while he had access to his water magic still. in a fight against the una soldiers, he's fast and capable, able to take more damage than an average human being could. ]

three › rescue (closed to loki)

[ kaldur is a capable fighter and he is stronger and sturdier than most human beings thanks to his atlantean heritage, but even with the water rations gaby has given him, the heat gets to him and even with his fighting skills, the una soldiers are more than a match.

the family has not yet gotten away, but they're running. kaldur should fall back. he means to fall back, only he cannot because there is another una soldier there, ready to engage. threatening to overwhelm him. ]

four › death (closed to jason)

[ kaldur has fought many battles, yet this is not the sort of thing that ever grows truly repetitive. each opponent reacts differently, each battle has its own logic and flow.

this one has jason and kaldur face off against five soldiers. it has a young child shielded by jason's body. kaldur aches and he is tired, but when he spots one of the una soldiers taking aim at jason, he moves fast. it's an unthinking thing. if he had his water-bearers, he could form a shield and deflect. as it is, one of the water rations he still has left shakes, the liquid trying to escape and kaldur's chest blue for a moment before the bullet hits him. ]

five › recovery

[ he wakes, painfully thirsty and desperate for water, but he is in no pain otherwise. he remembers blue swirls, seemingly communicating —but nothing he could make sense of.

he clears his throat, or tries to. it's so dry that barely any noise comes. swallowing is of no use, either, and so his pale eyes search for someone, something to help. ]

six › wildcard

[ ooc; anything goes! need a hand, need a rescue, need someone to chat with before or after? or check in on him via comms!

also i want kaldur to discover his powers in one (1) team-up thread, so that'll def have to happen ]

[reneger]

( they're hard to take down as is. built like bricks, strong, covered in gear jason couldn't even dream of, let alone get his hands on. every time one goes down they're pulled off, which makes getting his grubby fingers on their shit impossible. jason hates it.

hates even more than he's standing here with a child behind his back, a soldier at his front and no goddamn weapon in hand. his gun's too far to reach for without leaving her unguarded, and he has absolutely no intention of doing that. but kaldur steps in, steps in front and takes the bullet. it provides a moment of cover even if that's--fucking gruesome to think about. jason tucks down, wraps an arm around the little girl and reaches for his gun, takes it off stun and aims it straight for a shoulder. it hits, but doesn't do much damage; still, it's enough to get them to back the fuck off for a moment, and he's running forward a step, shoving this kid on over his shoulders and tells her to hold on tight as he reaches with (now free) arm to grab onto kaldur's body and

jumps straight through the nearest window. manages to avoid the hovercraft just a bit above and lands on creaky legs onto the next building over's balcony.

the child'll be fine; she's shaken up, her parents--didn't make it, but there's not jack shit jason can do for that right now. he murmurs a soft "we'll get them, it'll be fine" to her before turning his attention down to the body bleeding out where he had dropped kaldur.

runs fingers over his arms, down his chest. tries to figure out where most the blood's fucking coming from. )

When I said "hey, you close enough to help with this?" I didn't mean "hey, get shot for me" asshole.

prompto argentum | ffxv

[mercurio]

1. JUST TRYING TO LEVEL UP, DUDE (OTA)

[according to the map provided by daisy, there should be morningstar agents in danger in this particular building. one of two things can happen: a. the apartment is reached before the UNA soldiers make their entrance and prompto will be at the ready, gun drawn, cock and loaded, double-checking the map.]

This is the place. [quickly, hushed. the sound of rushed footsteps travel from the stairs, just a minute behind their own arrival. the door to the staircase is bound to open any second now.] Wanna pelt them with bullets or we more for a sneak attack?

[or b. the UNA soldiers are already in place, having shot one individual and sedated the child, ready to move out with their sedated target. what the soldiers were not expecting was to find their way to the exit blocked by some loons with guns and masks. prompto's shooting his gun, barrel rolling behind a wall and waiting for the enemy fire to cease.]

We're in the money♪ [he moves around the wall, two guns now in his hands, arms outstretched, shooting away] We're in the money♪ --check your six! Incoming!

2. HAVE NO FEAR, PROMPTO IS HERE! (OTA)

[in need for a rescue, or a helping hand while you're off on the pacifist route investigating or tending to a sedated child? prompto pulls down his mask a second, crouching down near the individual needing help, a hand on their back.]

It's me! [and he pushes the mask back up again, covering his face.] Y'know those soldiers aren't taking any breaks, right? I wouldn't a hundred percent recommend staying here for too long.

...but I'll cover for you if you need me to.

3. IS THIS FOR REAL? (LOCKED: ARDYN)

[there are worse things than being chased by a stubborn UNA soldier, but right now, prompto can't think of any. it's his own fault he provoked the fucker by shooting it twice in both arms so that it'd drop its weapon and be--well, useless. it probably wants to see about incapacitating prompto in other visceral ways. he's got a plan, however, which involves running up the stairs into the roof of the building, busting open the door and nearly falling forward on his face. it's enough for him to tumble on his feet, turn around, and shoot his guns in time for the UNA soldier's appearance at the door. the soldier falls on its own weight, heavy. the force of the shots makes prompto finally fall backwards on his ass, the young man allowing himself to lie flat as he takes in deep breaths and laughs.]

[that sure was an adrenaline rush.]

[it takes him a moment before opening his eyes and sitting up, removing the mask from his face as he looks the fallen soldier over. he's catching his breath, slow movements in getting himself back to his feet. as far as prompto knows, the soldier is dead and he's safe. as far as prompto knows, other UNA soldiers won't be coming to collect the body of their fallen comrade. as far as he knows, he's alone up here, and the shadow slowly looming over him doesn't quite register yet.]

You gotta know when to give it up, y'know.

4. IT'S JUST A SCRATCH! (LOCKED: DUTCH)

[finding himself the target of a number of UNA soldiers isn't exactly what prompto was looking forward to. he's jumping in and out with different groups of people, yeah, but he wasn't actually banking on running into a group of them when he was by himself. they catch him in the stairs which is the worst kind of scenario; it's narrow, with no real exits as they block both up and down. he grits his teeth and his hands hover at the guns on their holsters, his breathing becoming heavier as he tries to thinkthinkthink of a way out of this one.]

[he left himself completely open.]

[the second he removes the guns from their holsters, he extends his arms and starts shooting--above and below him. unfortunately, that only means the soldiers consider him a threat and are now moving on with lethal force. prompto gets shot on the chest--and it propels him backward, over the banister, and falling onto a floor below. it's pitiful, but he's only about managed to fall onto a landing, wheezing as the shots to his chest steal the air from him--thank god for bullet proof vests. being in the line of fire isn't something he is unfamiliar with, though, and he's moving as fast as he can, crouched and clutching his chest as he pushes a door to the twelfth floor open with his shoulder, bullets raining down towards him. it feels like something's broken, and he isn't sure where he dropped the guns. all he knows is that he's got to move.]

Shit-

[he updates his map location, taking cover behind a wall and wincing at the pain from his chest. he's grateful he at least has an extra gun on his leg holster.]

@prom.argentum
anyone in this vicinity
i need help
five to six soldiers on my tail
lol
sos

[you bet he's spamming.]

5. THE BEANS HAVE BEEN SAVED, BOYS (OTA)

[sometimes, not every encounter with UNA soldiers is fighting them. sometimes, arriving too late, there are still children that need saving. get them to the safehouse so that they can wake up in a place where someone can tend to them despite the horrific circumstances.]

[prompto steps inside the apartment, glancing back at his current partner in crime, and grimaces as he faces forward again. there's blood, signs of a struggle, silence. what he assumes is the parent of the child had been shot in the head, all the while holding on to their child, now asleep through sedatives. protective arms around the kid, the wall stained with blood and brain matter, no one stirs. he checks the child, checks for a pulse.]

She's alive.

[he wouldn't imagine soldiers hurting children, but one can never be too careful. he holsters his gun and starts at the limp arms of the parent to extract the child.]

We better get her outta here before things get nasty out there.

[it can either be an easy ride, or they can run into soldiers!]

@yalena.yardeen

[motivation]

on it

[ she's in the vicinity, a little worse for wear from the fight at the warehouse, but she came away clean —mostly, anyway. what pain she feels can be ignored. ("master your pain, little bird" is khlyen's voice, echoing in her mind. some of the lessons he'd taught her still stick. others, not so much.)

she finds prompto behind the wall. ]

Hey. [ she's got a gun in her hand, another in a thigh holster. there used to be a rifle slung across her back, but she's had to toss it in the warehouse. ]

bobbi morse | mcu: aos

[covertness]

one » action

[ katelin philips is a civilian. her father may have been military and bellamy may have reminded her of how to use a gun properly, but that doesn't make her any less a civilian. bobbi morse, on the other hand? bobbi morse is very much not a civilian.

currently, only six people know that and for now, bobbi would like to keep it that way. still, she can't in good conscience do nothing when she could be doing something. fitz built her batons and bobbi takes some of the gear gaby hands out, "just in case".

she says she'll go prep other safehouses and she will —but she takes the long route. the one that leads her past apartments that may be targeted.

— (closed to dick) during her first run in with una soldiers, bobbi tries to talk her way out of it. she's got her powers, she tells them they don't want to hurt her or this family, and for a second or two, it seems to be working. then it doesn't. it should have, she'd like to think that she's got a pretty good grip on what she can and cannot do, but it doesn't.

which leaves fighting, after she tells the family to run. she could use an assist...

— (closed to jughead) coming across jughead both is and isn't a surprise. bobbi's not sure how he's ended in this situation, but he clearly needs help. her cover isn't worth anyone's life, not even close. it's a contingency and it's playing a hunch, a long game. she doesn't even know if it will be the ace that she hopes it is, if concealing her abilities will mean the element of surprise or not. if whoever or whatever brought them here already knows, she's doing all of this for nothing, but that's a risk she's willing to take for the potential pay-out.

jughead's life is too high a price, and so there's no hesitation before bobbi steps in, a baton held in each hand. ] Why don't you pick on someone your own size?

two » aftermath

[ she gets hurt. it's nothing new, exactly, but that doesn't make the pain of her ribs any easier to bear and it doesn't make the bruises and contusions any less painful. still, bobbi only gets enough medical attention ("i got jumped" is not exactly a lie, more an omission) to keep herself functional before she offers to help.

she's got some basic training. she can tend to some wounds.

later, much later, she'll rest on the couch at casa shield, and after that, she'll seek out dick and jughead to talk about what they saw her do. to explain, more than she had the chance to out in the field. ]

three » wildcard

[ ooc; anything goes! also feel freel to check in with her on comms or drop me a line if you want her checking in on your character via comms! ]

[drivein]

[ it's not that he doesn't know how to fight—he does, and in any other circumstances, he'd be good at it, but he's not here and now. all it takes is one UNA soldier, the rest of them dispersing as the one focuses their wrath down on Jughead. he's nimble enough to dart out of the way of the first few attacks, but he's only human.

it seems like Jughead won't stay down, even when he's rattled. he's spitting a line of blood and getting back up to his knees when Bobbi makes an appearance, and he looks over at her with a swollen eye and a broken lip. ]

You saying I'm small?

[ the UNA soldier changes position to turn their focus on her. ]

alucard | castlevania

[memoriams]

1 — THE CLIMB

[The argument could be made that he’s still too new to this world to care for the conflict between two sides that might as well be foreign entities to Alucard. That just because he was given refuge under the extended wing of Morningstar doesn’t mean that he should fly to their aid, to take up arms against the UNA, to toss his own wellbeing into the fray.

Yet it’s hard to ignore the emergency message that crops up into view, and later, stress in Gaby’s voice, tinged with desperation. And as much as his presence in this world still sets him on edge, makes his mind reel with the implications, Alucard knows that in this instance, only one truth remains: The organization that had helped him requires his aid, and the obligation to help them weighs heavy on his shoulders.

And so he takes up the supplies, takes up arms, and will do as he’s been requested.

Part of that means having to climb up the sides of building; the warehouse itself, employing some means of stealth to gain entry, to slip in via a compromised spot when the cameras have gone down. This would’ve been far easier if his powers weren’t locked, but as they are, they all need to rely on the gear they’ve been given to scale such a steep vertical climb — and it can be about as difficult as it looks, to those unfocused or… just those unlucky.

Alucard’s next movement doesn’t find purchase on the side of the building; whether he’s mistimed re-activation of the gloves to stick is anyone’s guess, but what happens next is a sudden slide down the edge of the sleek wall, careening into someone below, reaching out to grasp at something out of instinct — gravity is a hell of a thing when you never really had to worry about it before.]

2 — THE FIGHT

[A. WEIGHING OPTIONS — Once inside, it’s all a matter of knowing how to approach. Maybe they’ve managed to find themselves perched higher up, maybe they’re simply slinking in shadow, crouched behind cover and relying on hushed exchanges for communication. Maybe Alucard is inclined to rush in, or maybe he can be convinced to use a stealthier approach, avoiding conflict altogether and focusing on getting the Morningstar agents out alive and unscathed. Either way, he says—]

A head-on approach might save us time.

[B. ALTERCATION— Either way, a fight was bound to happen. It’s him and you against a pair of soldiers, having somehow managed to cut them off from the larger group, and Alucard is the sort to close the space between himself and the enemy with uncanny speed, caring not for the gun latched to the side of his hip just yet. He’ll work as a distraction for his partner, and begins this altercation by cracking an elbow against the helmet of a UNA foe, with strength enough to cause them to temporarily reel and send them stumbling back into the other.

C. INJURY— Alucard is able to fight well enough, relying on strength and speed to put the pressure on any given soldier that he’s forced to encounter. But physical advantages will only go so far, not when his foe decides to implement weaponry that’ll be quick to halt him in his spot, especially when a bullet tears through a shoulder in a spray of fanning blood, causing him to hiss out in jolted pain. The next shears just across his leg, the force behind it causing him to fall to a knee, palms pressing into the ground to stop from crumpling altogether. Red runs and trickles from each wound, dripping, and quick to soak into his clothes.

Maybe some help is in order.]

3 — THE SAFEHOUSE

[A GPS location pings before a text scrolls through.]

@alucard.tepes
For those injured, find me here and I may be able to heal you. If you are in dire need and unable to meet me at this safehouse, share with me your location and I will come to you.

[Otherwise? Alucard will be aiding with divvying out medical supplies to those who need it, or spotting those with minor (or maybe not-so-minor) injuries, saying—] Allow me to help you with that.

WILDCARD

[My plotting comment is here if you'd like figure something else out!]

2C — Injury

[merced]

[ Aranea has been slipping from skirmish to skirmish at the highest vantage points she can get. It is something that will cause her signficant harm, later - but for now, it serves her in good stead, and puts her right where she needs to be when it comes to Alucard's immediate safety. Like a dark avenger, or something, she drops onto the scene. Like, literally drops.

A quick glance to young man, trying so hard not to be downed, and she makes her decision. ]

Hey! [ It's bellowed out to the soldiers inflicting harm as they are. ] Wanna real fight? Over here.

[ Aaaaand here come the bullets.

She dodges elegantly, zipping on a foot with the ease of a practiced combatant. ]

jason """matches""" todd ( dc )

[reneger]

(001) OPEN; LET'S CALL THE FALLEN ANGEL

( he offered his help over the network, and jason certainly meant it. he's running himself ragged jumping from one rooftop to the next, breaking into houses and breaking families out as quickly as possible, marks them down on the map daisy provided as soon as he's gotten every individual inside clear. jason's doing his best to avoid any combatants getting in before he can, but it's not always possible. doesn't matter. he's always down for a fight.

any pages would be met with a near-immediate response of omw and an eta as jason shifts from one job to the other, runs his way right towards the signal.

if anyone needs him for anything else? it's not like he can just turn off braintexts. wouldn't even think about it, all things considered. if he hears any distressed sounds from across hallways--that'll get his attention fast enough, too. )

(002) CLOSED TO PROMPTO; GETTING MORE GLASS IN OUR FEET

( jason hears the shot before he hears the voice that responds to it. these soldiers--are less than vocal, move quietly, efficiently, don't seem to goddamn react to anything let alone make a sound when they're injured. it gains his attention fast enough, turns his head right towards the noise and jason's taking off, leaps from the top of one roof and straight through the window of the next building, into the apartment that had been pinged on the map. glass shatters around him and he's really fucking glad he wasn't wearing his favorite jacket, this one's full of rips and tears already.

the bullet didn't hit, but some stupid blond kid is down on the ground. there also doesn't seem to be anyone left in the apartment, which--is as good of a sign as any. even if it means he just needlessly jumped several feet through the air, rolled through a window, and ripped the shit out of his jacket. )

Anyone tell you it's not smart to fall over in a warzone, kid? ( he offers a hand regardless, leans over a bit. )

(003) CLOSED TO NOCTIS; LETS FIND OUT WHAT IT DOES

( god knows how long it took him to get even one guy down, but jason did. he's bruised, battered, bleeding all over the goddamn place, bullet wound in his shoulder and blood dripping down from it at a worrying pace but he doesn't care, not anymore.

keith sent him a text, told him--what happened to damian. that he hadn't gotten there earlier to save him. and it's not keith's fault. it's fucking jason's for not staying close to him. for not trying to protect him, for--being way over here instead of following close on his tail. he fucked up, and there's nothing he can do to fix it.

his fist slams down onto the mark of the soldier as jason straddles them, keeps them down on the ground even when punching the mask proves to be ineffective; leaves his hand bloodied, knuckles bruised if not broken, and just. doesn't. stop. )

(004) CLOSED TO FITZ; AIM IT STRAIGHT

( he'd patched up the shoulder enough to get by but it only lasts for so long. the gauze he'd shoved right into the wound gets bled through instead of helping it clot, his heart's beating so goddamn fast it's no surprise how fast the blood is pouring out of him and eventually, eventually jason does have to pause for breath. has to call it quits, sit his ass down and wait for his body to catch up with him. skin a pale, ashen color and he almost considers texting markus, asking him to run over from wherever he is but he's--not going to interrupt markus' own mission. there are safehouses set up, there's one close enough that he can make it, he's sure.

so he hobbles over that way instead. )

(005) CLOSED TO THOR; WE TRIED THE BEST WE CAN

( he's absolutely covered in bandages but isn't willing to give this up just yet. blood leaking out of a shoulder, bandaids over a cheek, knuckles of his left hand bandaged up tight and that's fine, that's all fine, there's still things he has to get done and jason won't call it quits until he's good and finished. clearly that's not any time soon.

there are still more houses to check in, look for survivors, and instead of leaping from building to building he's taking the goddamn stairs to get up, climbing two steps at a time with his gun still clutched tight in the bandaged hand, takes a deep breath in once he reaches the goddamn door and shoves his foot right up against the lock, tries to break it right off it's frame. )

i read that as AM I STRAIGHT? oh honey

[retravel]

[ a brief exchange with stephen sends fitz to a further off safehouse in need of medical assistance with another morningstar medic at his side, portalling their way through the caves in jumps as far as his eyes can see. there's a dull pain in his chest, leftover from where a UNA operative slammed him against the wall, but it's not bleeding or fatal, so there's no time to deal with it.

the safehouse jason enters has a smattering of wounded, with fitz in the process of dealing with a comparatively minor injury. he, his patient (looking up with bleary, pained eyes), and another operative spy jason simultaneously, hobbling and haphazardly patched up. a blink, and he re-prioritises. suddenly, a well-placed push and subsequent shout indicate that he seized the moment to fix a dislocation. ]

Take it from here. Sling, ice, painkillers. [ directed at the other medic. fitz is already up and at 'em, even as the patient whispers "asshole." ] I'm on this one.

[ his heads-up display supplies more data the closer he gets. an overlay of notable complications in the wounded area: subclavian artery pinned on its approximate location at jason's shoulder, feeds the brachial artery and the brachial plexus, controlling the nerves of the arm, a blinking danger — but likely not knicked, if he can still walk. good. pale skin, indicative of blood loss. no shit, future siri.

only the crease in his brow and tightness at his mouth gives away concern. ]

C'mon, Malone. [ said as he slips underneath jason's arm on his good side, support to help him close the distance to an open cot. (not jay, notably. he realises now he hadn't earned that name.) as they walk, any brush of skin bleeds calm, upheld by a thread of control. ] I've got you now.

Loki | Open

[selfimage]

i. Restoring Order

[ there wasn't ever any part of what Loki did where he considered himself a hero. instead, he did the dirty work: flew beneath the radar, constructed political demise, and warded off battles before they started. in this case, he hadn't been able to exercise any of those things, it came right down to the operation, and the foresight of the UNA. he hated it, really, that there was no other choice but to do this. yet, somehow, he's worked with less. he hoodie he's wearing is long, and despite the heat, he has a jacket and Morningstar-issued gloves. there's no need to make themselves known to the UNA just who and what they are, especially not that they may be under Morningstar's care.

while Loki deliberately had not joined Morningstar, he knew that Morningstar was important. this world needed them as a sign that everything wasn't lost. so, he finds that it's probably good to lend some help. his specific brand of help, anyway. Loki is better at the covert, getting in and out before someone else notices. even in times of stress, there's a cool confidence to him that makes it seem like he's complete control of the situation. most of the time he isn't, but he has an uncanny way of directing himself that makes it seem like certain things are deliberate. depending on the building, the approach to get inside is formulated and then executed: up the side, up the fire escape, or just taking the stairs. some things are better done by going through the front door.

( a: sneaking past the UNA ) each door is a little different, but generally the same. the apartments follow the same layout, some larger when a child is involved. those are the ones that he goes for first. he doesn't say it, doesn't call attention to it, but every pick from a GPS standpoint is strategic. while he doesn't trust himself entirely, there's no room to do anything but use whatever means necessary he has to save the children. each opening approached is done so with silence and care, and a glance behind his shoulder.

( b: confronting the UNA ) there are no signs that he has any weapons on him. if he took one of the offered guns, he has it stashed away in one of the many pockets of his jacket, ready and waiting for the right time to use it. Loki isn't like his brother: brandishing weapons and talking big unless there's reason to. he doesn't walk into battle unless he knows that he can win (and this time, he's not sure he can, which is a point of frustration). as the Morningstar agents are ushered out, there's a distinct sound of heavy boots against the floor.

( c: post UNA ) and sometimes he arrives to late with a curse under his breath and a door swung open on its metal hinges. the neural implants are as much as a curse as they are a convenience. he makes note of the way that they're entered, takes pictures of the door and the distinct disarray of what's gone on inside. ] There could be a child here. [ he says with an eerily steady tone. for the first time, he doesn't seem to distracted with anything to steal, or anything to take. all he's focused on is the current mission. ]

ii. UNA Base

[ the base is really an afterthought. it was those that were threatened by the UNA first and foremost that Loki means to pinpoint and evacuate quickly. it's not until later that he shows up, ready and willing to cause some damage. even after the emotional and physical toll that saving those from the previous door-to-door rescue mission. while he's not at his full capacity as a deity, he's still above the normal scope of what would exhaust anyone.

there are a few goals here, and one of them involves scoping, while the other intends to cause damage if possible—some sort of distraction to allow those Morningstar agents to get away. he ducks down the corridors and down a few back pathways, looking for anything that could be damaged, and picking up fallen weapons along the way for his own personal stash. there's no doubt in his mind that something like this might happen again, and the stakes may be worse. ]

iv. Wildcard & Aftermath

[ give me a holler if you want something else/something doesn't work! I'm always willing to write a toplevel. ]

UNA base

[mercurio]

What are you doing?

[prompto's just here to -- make sure people are safe. that none of their own suffer any huge, irreversible injury. to be fair, he got a little lost and followed instead the directions in the map, hoping for an objective. this whole thing seemed endless, and his tank will run on zero soon.]

[he hisses his question at the man, though, no realizing that it is loki and they have conversed before.]

I don't think it's safe to stay here for long.

Ojiro Juniper (Sniper)

[deicider]

ONE SHOT ONE KILL
[Sniper's still got the UNA rifle they used in the kaiju attack. It's not a weapon they use lightly, less because of Gaby's request and more for the practical reasons: they only have so many rounds, and they're are only so many scenarios where a ranged shot is the best solution.

But they'll be using it to great effect during both legs of the operation, whether it's putting pressure on pursuing UNA vehicles or putting a last-minute bullet into the neck of a UNA during the warehouse leg. Under better circumstances they respect Morningstar's wishes, but the margin for error right now is too small, and the potential pay off too big. The more the foundations of this world shake, the closer the group will get to finding their kidnappers. That they're sure of.

For the first operation they'll be mostly scouting, offensive support, and encouraging vehicle theft. For the warehouse they are going to push for helping Morningstar secure the weapons. If you're about that hit me up at plotting]

Warehouse - WONDER BLUE POWERS ACTIVATE (injury)
[The crack of bone snapping may be drowned out under the sounds of combat, but Sniper hitting the ground, hard, during a vicious brawl with one of the soldiers isn't a good sign.

The next few seconds unfold slowly: The UNA soldier takes a step back and reaches for a gun, cautious enough after the brief, intense fight not to get near Sniper when they still had a knife in hand. Sniper, in the same moment, rolling to their knees as if sheer willpower alone could make a freshly broken leg support their weight. No time to unsling the rifle from their back.

But willpower does matter, especially for Sniper, who had forged their life and their skills with sweat and hard work. The hint of the blue glow can be seen spilling out of their shirt collar and suddenly they're up, standing, and with no hesitation throwing themself at the soldier. The element of surprise is enough, for them to knock the soldier's shot askew and restart the brawl. But another soldier has picked up on the problem and is advancing toward the duo.

Still glowing, Sniper is back to moving just as agile as before, but the numbers don't look good for them.]

Warehouse - PIGGYBACK
[The danger's not over until the group is clear of the warehouse and back at a safehouse but the group has done what they came here to do and are on their way out. Sniper's been glowing since midway through the operation, the edges of it visible at the back of their neck. Until suddenly Sniper grabs a wall, seconds before the glow flicks off. On closer inspection their leg, well... looks broken again.

They curse once, softly, inaudible unless you're right on top of them.

And then, for the sake of efficiency, send out a text to those nearby.]

Can anyone give me a piggyback?

[Thankfully they're not very heavy.]

Safehouse - AFTERMATH
[Sniper can be be found in one of two places.

1) Passed out on a cot, deeply asleep, with an obviously broken leg and a couple of bloodstains. They're curled around the bundle of their deconstructed rifle like it's a teddy bear.

While not in immediate danger, evident by the visible edge of a field dressing, they should probably have some more thorough medical attention. For anyone who manages to wake them up for it: Sorry, they are not a morning person today.

2) Moving around one of the safehouses doing chores and glowing blue. Their leg's been set and is in a cast, but should they actually be walking on it???]

piggyback

[secondnature]

[By this point, Keith is running on fumes. He's been in explosions. There are parts of his skin that are singed, not quite protected from all the damage because he hadn't activated his power on every inch of his body in time. And that was new, too—being able to adapt. Being able to handle the blast to some degree, even if it hadn't taken all of the pain away. Pain is good, though. It keeps him alive.

Should he be carrying anyone anywhere? Should he be doing much of anything like that? No.

But Ojiro is his friend. He's not gonna leave them behind.]

Tell me where you are. I can carry you. My back isn't good for it right now.

[fessus]

[Closed to Prompto]

[ Messaging Prompto was almost the first thing he'd done when he received the news, confirming that his best friend had also read the update and was mobilizing just as quickly. There are plenty of people within their group that aren't trained in combat, that don't have real-life experience with this kind of time-sensitive mission, and it's that reminder alone that has him confident enough to not rush to his side immediately. Prompto can handle this and can handle supporting others where he might be needed more right now, just like Noctis can.

It's at least two hours into the mission proper before he's checking back in, tone belying his hurried struggle through the increasingly crowded safehouse to get to the medical supply room. ]

Prompto you still okay? I'm at the safehouse, where are you?

[Closed to Aranea]

[ Getting back into the fray after seeing the people in need back at the safehouse had been difficult, but necessary. They'll be there needing help when this is all over, but for right now? They don't have a lot of time to capitalize on this opportunity. Whether that happens to be lifting more weapons or saving more lives.

Nevertheless it's a hell of a lot easier now with both of his arms back in commission, capitalizing on distractions caused by other allies to make his approach deeper into the warehouse a stealthy one. His main goal is avoiding any kind of engagement with the enemy... or at least it is until he hears a familiar voice. It's a sound of pain and he barely catches sight of her hitting the ground as he rounds the corner before his gun is up.

Three shots fired right at the soldier she's already visibly wounded, watching him crumple and making sure he's down for good before he's sprinting forward to her side. ]

Aranea!

[Closed to Droids]

[ The chaos has found a real home at the safehouse, all the combat on the outside enabling him to act without thinking but the residual effects are felt here. Everything's a blur, whether it's clusters of children crying for their parents or trying to clean trails of blood from the wounded off the floor just to keep the path clear for the next wave.

Noctis has taken it upon himself to guard the entrance and give direction where he can, helping the panicked new arrivals find a place to go just to expedite the process and hopefully offer a small amount of peace of mind when he's able. This? Might not be one of those times, not when he spots familiar faces. ]

Connor--?

[Closed to Cain]

[ Things are finally quieting down outside but that doesn't mean that their work has ended. Within the safehouse -- and the new supplementary emergency sites they've set up here and there to handle overflow -- there's a flurry of activity, even if the most pressing matters have finally been addressed. Wounds have been stymied, along with the influx of survivors as the last stragglers find their way to safety.

Noctis himself? Has yet to give himself any kind of chance to rest, currently freed up from tasks to deliver medicine or lend a hand with food but only to offer comfort to a dirty-faced young boy who's clearly reluctant to join the others. ]

They're not gonna' hurt you, you know. You're okay here now. [ Noctis's head lifts to follow the boy's line of sight, crouched down as he is at his side. The kitchen table, the bottles of water... and one man standing closest to them. ] Hey, can you bring one of those over here?

[ You're recruited now, Cain. ]

[Network]

>@noctis.sky
Updates on how you guys are doing? Lmk if anyone needs a hand, also the safehouse could use more bottled water if anyone finds any, ik it's tough.

[Wildcard]

[ Hit me up with whatever strikes your fancy, or at pyrrhic to plot! ]

[mercurio]

[there are so many safehouses currently-- but prompto immediately perks up at the text message. "the safehouse," would be the original one they're used to, right? he looks around trying to find the familiar mop of dark hair amidst the crowd that has flooded the place throughout the different rescue missions.]

i'm also at the safehouse! luuuucky timing

[he's walking past people, bumping shoulders as he scours the place out, wincing at an accidental elbow to his chest, until he finds the target of his communication close to the medical supply room.]

Noct!

[prompto approaches, cool as a cucumber, and slaps his ass in greeting, stepping out of the way as to not get retaliation--facing the other.]

The two warriors of legend take a break at the same time and place. It's fate! [he rubs at his nose. jokes aside--] Got into a bit of a scuffle but I'm good. You?

fitz | mcu: aos.

[retravel]

[ setting up closed starters to keep a neat timeline, but i'm keen to thread with anyone and everyone. hmu here or locution for something special. ]

strike team one.

[retravel]

[ They take the caves. Masks on, weapons checked, light on their feet. Steady. Several times, they quicken their pace in a particularly well-lit stretch of the underground with a step through Fitz’s portals. Without the shield of anonymity, he never tested them at distances such as this or held open long enough for multiple persons to pass through. Luckily, it appears he was right in his initial assessment: As far as he can see, they can go. It shaves precious minutes off their journey, and by the time they step into the world again, they’re ready for rapid entry and escape. From then on, it’s silent but for the internal pings of the implant. Daisy’s map overlay indicates other strikes are already in progress, the whole of New Amsterdam taking part in a silent war.

For the moment, the plan that Carter outlined and others shaded in has proven successful. They bust the main apartment door with an assist from Cain on the lock and ascend. ]

Nice work. [ flickers across their locked feed, exclusive to those present here now. Then, it’s the stairs, flight after flight, seemingly endless, with Fitz and Cain at the front, Markus behind them, and Carter bringing up the rear. Around the eleventh floor, a door opens below, and everything stills.

But it’s just someone taking out their bloody bins, wheels squeaking until they catch the lift.

Fitz’s heart threatens to jackhammer out of his chest, the pressure building in his ears. They can’t fail, they won’t fail — perhaps he made that too clear in their condensed strategy session. He’s not a field agent honed by choice, but rather hardened by circumstance. And the last time he led a team like this, he was in the UNA’s armoured boots (capture, not rescue). Good thing he doesn’t have to go it alone. The calls today will be shared, and undoubtedly better for it. ]

Scouts up.

[ The signal for he and Cain to sweep the twelfth floor. No signs of forced entry, even at their target apartment, which the heads-up display on the interface immediately flags with a blinking, green dot. ]

Clear. [ As soon as Cain confirms the same of his end, it’s on him to sort the lock on Patil’s door and step aside, so Peggy and Markus can advance toward the target. A heavy firedoor obscures the stairs, blocking out the sound of footsteps (heavy, rising, synchronised). The UNA are close enough behind them that their lead eases open the door before either scout can check it again. ]

Incoming.

[ Time to see if they stick to the plan of the scout team concealing themselves and coming in behind, or if they even have time to— ]

connor, detroit: become human.

[cyberlife]

(close top levels below. if you need anything from me, hit me up at frooting!)

markus.

[cyberlife]

Stay behind me.

(quoting hank, when they heard the crash from within rupert's apartment, gripping his stun gun tightly down before a thigh. this is his domain, even if both of them have been filing through these tasks all damn day, worn to the bone but unprepared to stop and let these people — families with bleeding parents leaving sleeping orphans in their wake — die. this is his job, this is what he's best at, and it's best for markus to stick close while out of the way. they can fight together when the time comes.

clearing rooms is what connor needs to do now, certain there are UNA agents either en route or lying in wait inside using bodies of morningstar agents as rigged bait and meat shields.)

Are you ready?

Achilles | Fate/Apocrypha

[kometes]

OPEN - WAREHOUSE

[ Those who saw his text or answered it will be able to meet up with the group later on. He's found a place a few blocks away from the warehouse, up on the roof. He hadn't exactly specified that he wouldn't be on the ground in his directions, so whoever shows up might be confused or assume they've shown up too late.

Achilles will throw a rock to the ground to get their attention from above, and motion for them to crawl up the wall to meet him. ]

A: The battle inside the warehouse:

[ In the midst of the chaos, it will become quickly apparent that they have no chance of overpowering the UNA with their superior gear and numbers. The car has been totalled, and the UNA soldiers have completely dismantled their initial formation and are beginning to corner them.

Achilles is fast, but without his divine speed, he can't hope to ever be faster than a bullet. He's lucky (is his mother watching over him?) that so far he's only lost the top part of his right ear so far.

Regardless of whether or not they were successful in saving every Morningstar agent or getting the cache, he decides to make a call: ]

Fall back! Now! Do you hear me?! I said retreat! [ If he has to, he'll yank them by the collar in an attempt to steer them away from the fight. ]

CLOSED TO CAIN

[kometes]

[ He's in bad shape but he doesn't stop running.

A part of him had hesitated before he had volunteered himself as bait; running away from the enemy rather than towards them makes it look like he's fleeing. As a hero, there is nothing more shameful than cowardice. He would rather die fighting until the bitter, bloody end, knowing that sacred honour and glory would be waiting for him in Elysium. What he's doing right now -- it reminds him of Hector. In the far reaches of his mind, the layer underneath his racing thoughts, he thinks of him. He had run, too, back then, refusing to accept what had been fated from the start.

Why think of that, now?

This war isn't his to fight, but given the chance to fight, he has readily accepted his role as another one of Morningstar's soldiers or champions. There is no glory or fame at stake here, though. Tonight, he agreed to save people he has never met, and now he's running away from the enemy in an effort to draw them away from the survivors and his comrades. Turning around and fighting them singlehandedly would mean certain death.

He's never felt this way before. It isn't fear, and he recognizes that he's angry, but there's something else. What is it? Guilt?

There's no time to mull over it, though. Not when he spots someone up ahead, walking right into the middle of his pathway. With his speed and momentum, Achilles can't just suddenly stop - so he does what is instinctive, ducking down to barrel right into them and sling the body over his shoulders and carry them off. ]

damian wayne

[batricide]

STARTING OFF STRONG.

[ He is a hero.

When all else had gone wrong, when the world had begun to crumble at its very foundations, Damian had known that to be true. No matter how far the Regime went, no matter how many terrible things had to be done, he was a hero and that meant people were counting on him to be strong. Damian isn't great at the people side of this, but he can be caught reassuring children and widowed wives and husbands that things will be okay. He's going to get them to safety, they just have to listen to everything he has to say and they'll get out all right.

He cares.

He cares so much.

He cares so much that even already overloaded and stressed, he'll get in the middle of other people's battles to try to help them too. ]

FALTERING.

[ Pain is something you can turn off. But injuries don't go away because you refuse to acknowledge your body's warnings. He's running himself ragged, trying to save as many people as possible. Interfering with the UNA soldiers, trying to distract them from his fellow displaced and buy them time. Or trying to get between them and the Morningstar agents they're trying to kill. He takes it because they can't, and he gets as many as he can to safety.

But he's feeling the brunt of it.

He stops at one of the smaller safehouses and has to take a minute to sit down, working his fingers through his hair. He's not moving as fast as he was, but he's still getting ready to fight. He won't be in here for long, not when there are lives that need saving.

( and because the world just makes more sense when he can use his fists to solve its problems )

So catch him during this brief moment of respite. It will be the last chance you'll get to speak. ]

FALLEN.

[ of course this gets him dead at the end of it all. he refuses to stop. and it costs him. people can find him in one of the rejuvenation pods - but he won't be saying anything to them anytime soon. ]

yalena "dutch" yardeen | killjoys

[motivation]

» the silence after the storm

[ dutch has been trained to fight her whole life. khlyen had seen to it that she was capable of going up against those bigger and stronger than her, that she could kill without remorse, methodically stripping her of her humanity.

she's been regaining it piece by piece since choosing to trust johnny all those years ago, but she's still a weapon —only now she's the one deciding where to point herself, whether to pull the trigger. it isn't khlyen anymore and it isn't red boxes. (khlyen is dead. she misses him.)

this fight isn't hers, but there's no way she's sitting it out, sitting on her hands. she goes into the warehouse and she fights, but all her skill and speed aren't enough against the una soldiers. there are too many of them, too well-equipped, too well-trained. she makes it out of the warehouse with bruises and a gunshot wound to one arm, bleeding sluggishly where she presses a hand against it, and she keeps going.

run into her in the warehouse or anywhere in the city as she hits up apartments after the warehouse, high on adrenaline and looking for a win, or tell her to get medical attention. ]

» time-out

[ dutch escorts a morningstar agent to one of the safehouses and gets the wound on her arm looked at. she has every intention of going out there again. she wasn't made to sit around and do nothing.

—but first? ] Anyone got a drink around here? [ she doesn't mean water. ]

» a discovery of shadows

[ dutch has been trained to fight her whole life, but it doesn't mean she doesn't ever grow tired. it doesn't mean that she doesn't wonder —is this her life now? what of the war back home against the lady, what about aneela? she'd promised delle seyah she'd get aneela out of the green. she wants to see d'avin again, although she's not sure whether it's to yell at him, slap him or kiss him. maybe all of the above.

she's damaged, but she's not broken, is she? not beyond repair.

she's tired, but she can't stop —but maybe she can rest for a moment. maybe she can rest. so she leans against a wall, taking a sip from the bottle in her hand (which does not contain water, thanks for asking) and tips her head back, closing her eyes for a second.

would it matter if she never came back? if she disappeared? (it would, but she still wonders. it would matter to the fight, and it would matter to johnny, but johnny's here —)

closed eyes means she misses the blue glow of her chest, doesn't realise that the shadows around her grow a little deeper, drawing a little closer to her, like they're trying to encompass her. ]

» wildcard

[ rolls up twenty years later and without starbucks but hit me up with anything or ask for a more specific starter. ]