EVENT #010

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: New Amsterdam and any other megacity the Displaced happen to be in/travel to!
WHEN: May 28, 2512
WHAT: Golden-eyed monsters stream into New Amsterdam and other megacities the world over.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Violence, death, body horror, mind control, and transformation.

> EVENT #010

It starts in the middle of the night, when most everyone should be fast asleep in their beds, whether they're still taking up a cot in the safehouse or staying in their own apartment. One moment it's quiet, with most of the rest of the city having also turned in for the night, and then in the next? It isn't.

There will be mass confusion as the scope of the situation becomes clear. Monsters stream out onto the streets, thundering up the stairs of a train station, skittering out of construction sites, or climbing up the walls. Some of them fly. Others slither. Others run, loping forward with only one goal in mind: to find something to sink their teeth or claws into and to leave destruction in their wake at every turn. They are a horde, a swarm, a teeming mass of creatures that have no intention of stopping. All of them have eyes or bodies that shine gold and wherever they go, they seem to leave decay. Concrete turns black and porous where they step; plants wither and die.

There is no real preparing for an attack of this scale. New Amsterdam will awaken as the sound of these monsters crashing down on cars or bursting through storefronts or into homes forces people to run screaming from their dwellings or places of work. There is no discrimination in who these beasts might target, and no discernable pattern in where they go.

All that one can really tell is that they seem to want to spread out. They're constantly on the move, leaping from victim to victim, and they're relentless. No one knows why they've come, where they're come from, or what will make them stop. At least for now, the only option seems to be to cut down their numbers. It's time to fight the horde.

The first night will be utter chaos as everyone reacts to the monsters' sudden appearance, but by the morning hours news reports will start streaming in. This is not only happening in New Amsterdam, or wherever else a Displaced might be staying, but seemingly everywhere. Some cities seem harder hit than others, but practically every megacity is overrun with the creatures.

With no way of knowing who might have unleashed the monsters, all of these cities have essentially been turned into battlefields. Not many civilians are prepared to fight for their lives, and it will take a mobilization effort from the police, Morningstar, the Displaced, and anyone else who's willing to take up arms in order to survive.

◉ As a note, this attack starts simultaneously in multiple cities. While it's the middle of the night in New Amsterdam, the monsters will appear at other times of the day in other parts of the world depending on the timezone!

> BESTIARY

So as to not make this post overly long, we have compiled all of the monster descriptions into a Google doc here for everyone's reference!

> (NOT SO) SAFEHOUSE

For those Displaced who stay at (or spend any time in) the safehouse under the hoverbike shop or the Red Wings bar, they may become aware of the presence of the monsters sooner than others, due to the fact that at least a few of the giant mole monsters will end up burrowing up through the concrete basements to wreak havoc. The screeching noise of steel claws tearing through the floor will be sure to wake up even the deepest of sleepers.

This won't just be an occurrence on the first night of the attack, either. Unless something is done to deter them, tunnels leading straight into the safehouses will continue to be created, allowing even other types of monsters to find their way through (the smaller ones, that is). Where exactly they're coming from won't be entirely clear, though it's a safe bet to assume that they must have originated in the cave system somehow.

Suffice to say that El won't be happy about the safehouse being compromised in this way, though this isn't a possibility that ze or anyone else could have really prepared for. While ze can't do much to physically help with containing the invasion of the monsters, ze will offer whatever resources ze can—though Morningstar is going to be busy in plenty of other locations, as well, and they only have so many resources.

The Red Wings, being a Displaced-operated location, will also be in need of assistance, especially if it's meant to be a point of safety and a hub for handing out supplies. Speaking of—

> RED WINGS HQ

As things begin to deteriorate, Clarke Griffin and Stephen Strange sink their resources into Red Wings, adapting it into a base of operations for the Displaced. Clarke also called in PRESERVE to set up a checkpoint here, too, and anyone—from the Displaced to civilians—will be able to seek aid here. (Of course, Red Wings will be just one of a few locations throughout the city where they attempt to set up shop, but Red Wings may prove to be more fortified thanks to the talents of the Displaced.) Civilians will not have access to Red Wings' safehouse, however. That's still something that Clarke and Stephen want to keep under wraps, for now.

In the bar proper, there will be medical aid, supplies, and even weapons for those who can use them. During rare moments of downtime, the gang at Red Wings will also work on reconnaissance missions to find safe spots throughout the city to provide much needed protection and safety for the people of New Amsterdam. This task may be much easier said than done. Gathering intel on the monsters is a high priority, too, and for anyone who tries to capture a monster to learn more about them, the basement might be a good place to hold them. If the Displaced are going to be able to fight back, they need to know exactly what it is they're fighting.

However, the truth of the matter is that this attack happened quickly, and in the middle of the night to boot. As much as the group at Red Wings tries, resources are stretched thin, and they didn't have time to prepare as much as they wanted to. Supplies need to be rationed, bandages and stitches used for wounds that really need them, and if you're not a great shot, it might be best to let someone with more training take that gun you're eyeing.

More than anything, despite the difficulty, this is a way for the Displaced to help out as many people as they can, and a way for them to cement their humanitarian efforts and affect the population's opinion of them. The citizens of New Amsterdam are sick of this cycle of destruction, and are just waiting to be empowered. Now's the time to teach them to fight back and help them protect their city.

Red Wings' safehouse underground will be damaged by burrowing monsters as well, and will need protection. The bar itself will escape relatively unscathed.

> INVESTIGATING / GATES

Maybe the best way of dealing with the monsters isn't violence at all. Maybe there's a more strategic way to deal with this.

The monsters will be moving from city to city via the gates, just like the Displaced do. There might be a way to keep them from spreading, or at least slow them down, by shutting down the gate network. Of course, with the mag trains shutting down, getting back home could be an issue. One option is the delivery network of hover trucks. They'll still be running to get supplies from city to city, but their batteries don't run indefinitely, so these will be relatively local trips only. No getting from New Tokyo back to New Amsterdam with this method, unfortunately, and convincing a driver to let you hitch a ride might be a challenge, but it's doable.

Of course, there's also the question of where these things are coming from. Intrepid characters might be able to track them back to their nests, which are tucked away in wildly different places depending on the city. In New Amsterdam, they might be in the caves below the city. In other places, they might not be in the city proper at all, but just outside of it. It's important to keep in mind that the nests are far away from any of the action taking place elsewhere. Tracking these origin points may provide some answers, but the cost would be less involvement in the crisis taking place.

And then there's the matter of the monsters themselves. How can you fight an enemy you know nothing about? For those determined or crafty enough, capturing them might be an option, although this will take some creativity. Once these creatures are captured, they'll need to be kept contained, and kept alive. Just because they're monstrous doesn't mean they don't have to eat, after all, and some will need special environmental considerations as well, such as the mind control slugs.

What happens after that is up to the Displaced. Is dissecting them the best bet? Their internal anatomy won't be wildly different from most "normal" animals, with the exception of some creatures who have strange appendages or the like. Still, this might give the Displaced a better idea of how they operate and what their weak spots are. Sending samples to a lab is another possibility, if the Displaced can figure out how to safely store those samples. After all, the world is in a crisis, and no one is running tests at the moment.

All monsters, though, seem drawn to the blue light. When a Displaced uses a power or activates the empathy bond, the creatures will lock onto it, utterly transfixed, and if this is done enough times, that gold glow of theirs will intensify. What does it all mean? Maybe figuring that out will be a pathway to stopping their attacks.

> PITCHING IN

While all of this is going on, it certainly won't be just the Displaced who are heading out into the streets to try and stem the flow of the monster attack. These creatures are certainly not holding back, and no matter how much work might be put in, their numbers are overwhelming. Plenty of people will end up dead as a result, ripped to shreds or dragged off somewhere to be eaten. Yet, for some reason, these monsters are not as vicious toward the Displaced. They'll engage them in a fight and injure them, but they never go so far as dealing a fatal blow.

Seeing how that's not the case for the rest of the populace throughout the world, however, some groups and organizations will be rising up to do their part.

Police departments will be mobilizing in every megacity to put the monsters down, and while they are armed, it's not on the same level as the UNA. They also don't have any sort of training that's prepared them to fight monsters, but they'll still be putting their lives on the line to put a dent in the monsters' onslaught. When it comes to enforcing regular law and order, they certainly won't have the bandwidth for anything like that. Then again, most people won't be in any position to take advantage and commit crimes either, given the chaos that will be a constant everywhere.

Morningstar will also be jumping into action around the world. The New Amsterdam branch will be most likely to work alongside the Displaced and share some of their resources, particularly with those who are signed up as official agents or those who've supported them in the past. In cities like New Prague and New Beijing where the Displaced have made some contact with Morningstar before, they'll also be open to working with the Displaced. However, their resources are by no means robust. Morningstar is an organized rebel group, but they're hardly an official army in any sense of the word. They might be able to hand out a weapon here or there and they have a safehouse set up in almost every city, but beyond that, they'll mainly be getting boots on the ground to help with the fighting.

UNA soldiers who have been left without any sort of purpose or guidance will now have an opportunity to put some of that training to use. Their involvement will be much more scattered, though in some cases small groups of these soldiers who used to work in units together will reconnect in their effort to fight off the horde. However, having been cut off from the UNA in an official capacity, they won't have much in the way of gear or weapons. They're still formidable fighters, though, and now might be the perfect time to reach out and make a connection with some of them.

Mercenaries belonging to various different outfits, depending on what city they're based in, will also be joining the cause. Whether they're acting out of a basic desire to survive the attacks or if they're actually being paid by someone to go out there and risk their lives will be less clear, but they're some of the best-equipped fighters (other than the police). They also won't really find much reason to protest any of the Displaced pitching in to fight with them. The more firepower, the better, right?

A group of regulars from the New Amsterdam fighting rings will be rising up to add their fuel to the monster-fighting fire, as encouraged by Hawke and whoever else might know them well enough to reach out. Given that some of these people have illegal mods to enhance their strength or cybernetic attachments that can do impressive amounts of damage, some of them might hold their own against the monsters. Hell, some of them might even ask the Displaced to demonstrate some of their powers if they end up fighting together, as word of their abilities has become more known among their ranks. Either way, they'll be jumping into the fray with quite a bit of gusto.

PRESERVE will be involved on the other end of these efforts and will be doing their best to tend to the wounded and the dead, along with finding shelter and safe spots for people to barricade themselves from the attacks. It's not like the grand majority of civilians could stand a chance against these monsters, after all, yet not all of them can rely on their homes to be safe enough to stay in. They'll be quick to accept an offer of Displaced help, as they'll be doing their best to try and drag the recently dead to hospitals to get them put into medi-units before they're too late. Along with what's set up at Red Wings, they'll also be cobbling together other relief spots throughout the city for taking care of wounded and offering up what supplies they have (food and water, medical supplies, etc).

And what are the corporations doing in all of this? Well, suffice to say, mainly just panicking. Unsurprisingly, they're not much help during a crisis like this, with most of the super-rich opting to hide away in whatever highly secure bunkers they might have. Too bad that these bunkers might not prove so secure in the face of these attacks. Could that prove to be an opportunity if someone went looking?

> FINAL OOC NOES

Please refer to the OOC EVENT POST for all OOC info, including suggestions for directions on how to engage with the event. Given the spread out nature of this event, as well as the amount of additional details provided here, please direct all questions to our QUESTIONS thread below. This is, naturally, a huge event in terms of scale, and so we're certain there are aspects of it we haven't covered and questions that have yet to be answered. We do encourage that all of our players use the event planning post for any additional ideas and for touching base!

Please do not begin to thread out any aftermath until AUGUST 8, 2020, which is when we will put up the aftermath log and OOC post. If this date changes, we will provide a gamewide update as needed! As a note, the August calendar will be posted alongside the aftermath!

As a reminder, there is one power level up available for this event, granted for a thread of at least 5 log/action comments containing your character utilizing their power in some way during the event itself. They will need to reach the 5 comments required by SEPTEMBER 11, 2020 to be eligible. Submission will be handled on the wrap up post.

Our Activity Check will be posted AUGUST 1 at 12 AM UTC. It will run for seven days and close on AUGUST 8 at 12 AM UTC.

Have fun and fight some monsters! Or … whatever else you might do with them. 😉😏 Your secret's safe with us. 😙

> NAVIGATION

Comments

QUESTIONS

[larkers]

[bloodbathing]

hey mods! quick question about the ic date on this. the ooc planning post says may 28th, but the "when" on this post says may 25th. is the 25th a typo, or was this event moved back a few ic days?

rey (ota) (cw: graphic violence, loss of autonomy, etc.)

[forcevisions]

01. good people will fight if we lead them (ota)

[ it almost goes without saying, the way morningstar responds to the monsters. there's no question if they will be pooling their resources to rise to meet this threat, but how. rey joins two other morningstar agents to back them up when they head down towards the capital to engage the monsters there.

a. when they arrive, amidst the flurry of chittering rodents, a cry of help sounds. the figure stands sort of limp near the mouth of an alley nearby. if rey had the force, she might sense the creature for what it was — might see that this person was not alive at all. but she doesn't. instead, she runs for it, drawing her lightsaber without hesitation.

waiting in the alley for her are a row of gleaming teeth in a wide amphibian mouth. it slurps down the humanoid lure as if swallowing its own tongue and leaps for her.

b. later, after the fight with the angler, and the disposal of the rodents, an napd vehicle pulls up. they look ready to secure the square, well-armed and organized, if a little late. ]

We handled it. [ rey wipes sweat from her forehead as one officer asks, 'we?' ] Morningstar. [ there's no point side-stepping it; rey knows this. she pushes through head-on. ] We may not have a surveillance and reporting network like yours, but we can help.

[ it puts the officers in a weird position — do they report morningstar for this? do they accept the help they desperately need? while they get the area secured, the coordinate on it, and rey turns back to those who'd helped with the fight. ]

I probably should have asked El before I said that.

02. she'll never be a jedi (ota for fights, but clarke will be the one healing rey via empathy bond)

[ rey doesn't make herself easy to catch.

the trouble with having powers like hers has already shown itself in the fight with catra. if she doesn't have control, she can do a lot of damage. when the slug gets inside of her — and she can feel it, deep down, like a sort of burn — she doesn't let anyone near her. gravity makes certain of that.

the result is ugly. at first, grappling with it, she just wants to get away. but it's as soon as she's away that her anger bubbles out of her. a lifetime of rage bubble out of her at once, feeding the strange creature inside of her.

vines crawl over the feet of the man who tries to escape her wrath, too fast. they entangle him, and he collapses. rey has done away with her lightsaber. this is more visceral. the vines take something out of her, though. her expression is ashen, and so is his, once she draws closer to him. she does't speak. only draws nearer, pressing him flatter and flatter against the street. ]

03. you can't go back now (closed to ben)

[ the call comes after she's back to herself. tired as she is, burned out by her power as she is, rey should stay at home. rey should let someone else deal with it. but kylo ren going supernova downtown feels like her responsibility. she can't shake that.

so rey finds him there, bright and burning and so unlike himself. she had expected kylo to look himself, at least, as she had. but he doesn't. he has a face like the skull of some horned beast and he's taller, lankier, than ever. ]

Stop this. [ she tries reason, first. she tries it because subduing him will undoubtedly burn, and she still sports the scars from the last time she'd challenged his power, and because she doesn't want to lay hands on him. not now, not ever. she has buried too many sentiments to let skin contact undo all her hard work. ]

04. wildcard

[ ooc; hmu @ protects if you want a custom starter of some kind. prompt one is designed for morningstar recruitment, so anyone looking to be part of the cause, hit A or B! ]

1-a

[warfares]

( kylo had been tracking the creature for a while now, observing its habits. unlike the creatures from the attack months before, this one moved with the ponderous care of an old woman negotiating a packed grocery aisle, pausing occasionally to toss its lure.

a lure that was alarmingly realistic.

he’d been fortunate, so far, in that it hadn’t managed to draw much attention. the louder, faster creatures had driven most of the neighbourhood indoors, with the stragglers tucking themselves into whatever shelter they might find.

but good luck can’t hold indefinitely. the angler shambles its way into an alleyway, throwing out its lure and waiting.

and waiting.

and waiting. except, rather than being ignored this time someone is drawn in. a sharp, alarmed cry shattering the silence. a familiar cry.

without the force to lend him strength, kylo ren has to rely on his own power. fortunately, he's not gotten too soft, so when he throws himself at the angler, he manages to find decent purchase, pulling himself up and onto its back. )

Ian Fowler

[wittingly]

( misc. to follow )

closed → nathan lowell

[wittingly]

[ It is not, as it turns out, the ideal night to be fucking off outside of the safehouse to clear his head. He doesn't typically have a hard time sleeping, not even around groups of people dormitory style, but that's been challenged the last couple of days. His dreams are a frustrating patchwork of blurry images, most of them about the quaking ground or a tossing boat, and when he wakes up at nearly midnight the whole place seems a little stifling.

The streets here are usually pretty calm at night. The majority of the foot traffic dies down, the dense population of the city and the lights on in various windows like stars keep it from seeming oppressively dark.

He's a fan.

Until, like, a billion fucking monsters burst out of the ground and start ripping cars apart in front of him.

The screaming and chaos is sudden, abrupt, and startlingly similar to what happened that fall about two years ago. Standing outside of a Starbucks, having his coffee knocked out of his hand after he got shoulder-checked by someone absolutely fucking booking it. Turning around to the sight of screaming, running bodies as incomprehensibly large ships touched down on entire city blocks, crushing them without a thought.

There may not be ships this time, but breaking glass and yelling and shorn metal are nearly identical.

He does the same thing now as he did then: fucking bolts, tucking around corners and ducking flung bodies or cars or cans. It isn't panic, exactly, that drives him - that would require him to feel something. He doesn't. He's empty, maybe in shock, propelled by adrenaline and instinct and his mind trying to do math memes about how in the fuck he's gonna get back to the safehouse - so much so that maybe he isn't as keyed into his surroundings as he should be. ]

Kyna Medina | open & closed starters

[evocation]

[I'll be adding to this throughout the event! If you want a starter, hit me up at cephalopods!]

ian

[evocation]

[It all happens very quickly. One moment they're wrestling one of those bat things into a makeshift net, and the next, one of its talons darts out, slicing her arm to ribbons. It's one of those too neat wounds, those ones you don't notice until you spot the blood dripping down, making neat dots on the white of the linoleum.]

Shit.

[Kyna yanks back, cradling her arm against her chest protectively. For a second, she wants to blame it on her jacket—it's not like the one she has back home, not thick leather enchanted to glance off blows like this—but deep down, she knows that isn't it. She's distracted in that way she'd give anyone else shit for, distracted by Ian and William and that stupid fight.

And still distracted, too, when Ian and William wrestle the bat all the way into their little trap. She's paying so little attention that she doesn't realize Ian is grabbing her until he scoops her up and suddenly they're off. She lets out a surprised, offended squeak, struggling to put pressure on her arm even though the blood is making the fake leather too slick to get much purchase.]

What the fuck, Ian.

kylo ren ( open )

[warfares]

( an now that i'm finally at my laptop. hmu @ resurrectionist if you'd like a custom starter. otherwise, i'll be posting open prompts below throughout the event. )

⟴ monster tracking (ota)

[warfares]

( this is becoming old hat—granted, the monsters in antartica had been pleasant by comparison, content to do their own thing provided nobody got too close. the monsters spilling out into the streets of new amsterdam are considerably less placid, attacking openly and without fear.

more varied, too. the shambling anglers, in particular, are unlike anything he's ever observed. they're relatively simple to track, too. which is what he can be found doing, trailing one of the things from the riverfront.

a. if you join him, you'll be led through one of the tight alleyways, always keeping a careful distance so as not to alert it to your presence.

b. perhaps, if you're lucky, you'll make it to the thing's nest, but before you have a chance to enter, you'll be attacked by one of the bat creatures, that's been stalking you from above hope you have a weapon handy!

c. now that the monster has been dealt with and the would-be meal rescued, kylo will be taking a moment to inspect the carcass of the nearest monster, toeing it with his boot. time to gather some samples.

either way, it's going to be a long day. )

yennefer (ota)

[angerberg]

01. whatever you lack in talent (ota)

[ construction noises are commonplace in yen's apartment, which is really more like a closet above a food stand in the red light district. she talks a big game, makes considerable effort to dress herself up, but at the end of the day, she's as without resources here as anyone. this is what she found, and around neighbors she can tolerate.

importantly, no one knows where it is. she'd like to keep it that way.

however, those sounds start up when it's still dark out, pulling yen from her repose. when she makes her way out into the kitchen, downstairs into the shopfront, she finds the creature. it has burrowed out of the sewers and right into the dining hall. mx. ulrich shrieks when she comes upon it, and yen grabs her to flee into the street.

more chaos waits for them there, and yennefer in her thin lace nightgown and without a weapon. ]

Shit.

[ she puts mx. ulrich behind her and says, ] Stay close. [ weapons are illegal in new amsterdam, and she'll be useless until she gets her hands on one. damn this planet and damn the loss of her magic. ]

02. nobody smart fights fair (ota)

[ kylo ren's relic glowed in her hand when one of those creatures stood down from fighting her. bright and shining and brilliant. it was that which sent her down into the new amsterdam tunnels to find the gate.

for an entire day, she sits perched near the edge of the gate's chamber, only watching it, relic in hand. the light in it pulses, as if it were calling to something in her or in the gate itself, except that it has always done that since she took it from ren. she turns it over in her hand, watching, waiting.

and after a few hours, when she has grown bored and irate, something happens. a writhing mass of foliage emerges, glowing, from the gate. it disperses into a scattered collection of animals — a loping fox and a long winding vine like a thick python. they take over the chamber.

yennefer rises to her feet. she had not expected such a deluge. she had not expected this at all. only a connection of some sort.

another creature. this one a giant boar, its back carpeted with thick quills. yennefer abandons her post at the wall and races for the gate's platform to pull one of the other relics free and deactivate it. ]

03. we're just vessels (closed to hux)

[ collecting samples. it was armitage's idea, gathering up the slugs where they could. this was the sort of errand that yennefer considered well below her, the sort she'd rather set hux to himself, but she had to admit that she wanted to keep some for herself.

she meets him at red wings, a nice neutral location, one which keeps her own home well-secret. in her hands are jars of varying sizes, each with tiny punctures sliced crudely into the top, straight through the thin metal sheet of the lid. ]

I hope you have an idea of how to find them.

04. wildcard

[ ooc; hmu @ protects if you want a custom starter of some kind. yen will have a network post to get people on board with helping her shut the gates in a day or two, if you'd rather do network stuff. ]

hello it is I

[harmistice]

Simple. We will use our eyes.

[A snarky reply for a snarky expectation. Of course he did not know how to find them -- they were slugs. He only spotted their effects once before contacting Yennefer and detailing what he had seen. This wasn't something you just sat on.

They needed to catch them while they could, even if it would be difficult.]

They like dark places. And they seem to be attracted to hosts. I do not imagine it will be a difficult task.

Daenerys Targaryen | open and closed

[dragonwarder]

[Dragon vs Dragon fight and other prompts below. PM at stabs if you want a custom starter.]

Double Dragon (specify vs Dany, vs monster, or team attack w/ Dany)

[dragonwarder]

[It is unclear how long two large flying black reptiles have been at the center of New Amsterdam, but at the right angle, they could easily be spotted thrashing about in the middle of the street. For a time, it seemed that the two dragons were fighting each other -- those who might have seen the dragon in New Rio de Janero or the dragon in New Magellan would be able to recognize Daenerys Targaryen and a monster who has apparently stolen her powers from her.

A man sits near the divet of her wingspan as jaws snap and jets of fire fly between both creatures. The blue glow makes Jon Snow easy to spot, even on the occasions he is trying not to catch on fire.

But one good hit from the monster tosses from her back and causes the glow from Daenerys' chest to dim some. In the moments following, the dragons cease to fight each other and resume lashing out at anyone nearby.]

[ooc: Please let me know your prompt preference in your reply. I will happily NPC the other dragon for groups. If you want a specific starter, PM me and I will set it up. This is meant to happen towards the end of the event, if timeline is a concern!]

drake holloway | OTAs, closed in replies

[braveoff]

i. patrolling/escorting, wherever you need to go; OTA

[ If there’s one thing Drake got used to during his time in Hadriel, it’s monster attacks. As much time as he can manage is spent out there in the thick of it. He’s fighting, yes, but killing monsters is not his primary intention. No, he’s out there to protect people as much as he can, patrolling even quieter areas further into the invasion in case there’s someone who needs help, or who needs to get somewhere else and could use an escort. Since weapons are hard to come by he’s armed only with knives from his kitchen at the moment but he’s still a fierce opponent, well trained and good at improvising. The majority of the time he’s splattered in gore but at least it’s (mostly) not his own, and he still fights like a zombie even though he’s human here and now. This might get him into trouble at some point, rushing headlong into battle to save whoever needs it, but he does rely on stealth as much as he can, darting between shadows and climbing for the high ground unless he sees a civilian or fellow Displaced in need. It’s exhausting and strange to do without his Guard sash identifying him as someone to call on for assistance, but it’s what he’s good at, it’s what he’s trained for and done for years. On the second day he also puts up a post: ]

If you need help getting from A to B let me know, I’ll get there and escort you.

[ Do you need a hand? ]

ii. calming light; OTA

[ Another potentially useful trick Drake has up his sleeve along with the knives is his power, which he doesn’t think to try on the monsters but if he comes across someone hiding, panicking, unable to follow his direction for their fear of what’s happening, he will remember it. His chest glows a soft blue under his clothing and he reaches out, his voice gentle. The target will feel their terror fade, the stress that they’re under vanishing under the influence of his ability. It’s not an absence of fear, they won’t run into the fray or anything like that, but they’re calmer. Able to breathe again, able to focus. ]

Hey. You’re gonna be alright, just come with me. Nice and easy.

iii. wildcard;

[ ooc: hit me at cuddlebug if you'd like a closed starter! ]

slugventures; closed to william

[braveoff]

iv. slugventures; closed to William

[ It’s the middle of the night when the monsters arrive, and Drake is about to find out they’re here in the worst of ways… he’s woken by the cacophony, having left the window open to get that late spring breeze. Somehow despite saying promising no funny business when he’d offered William crash space he’d snuggled up in his sleep so Drake disentangles himself carefully and climbs out of bed to look down at the street, seeing the chaos but not knowing that the tiniest of the monsters has already gotten inside… ]

Shit. William? Will, wake up.

[ He turns around and leans one knee on the bed to reach his friend, giving him a little shake, still in the dark. ]

washington | OTAs, closed in replies

[hardwearing]

i. fighting, as he do; OTA

[ If there's one thing Wash knows well, it's unfortunately war. He's a combat veteran and used to fighting way worse than these monsters, honestly... aliens have ranged weapons, too, so he thinks he can handle this even without his power armor and usual weaponry. He makes use of whatever he can find and is, generally speaking, a bit of a demon himself out there. Blood sprays, sometimes his own, but his power makes quick work of most of his injuries. As long as he doesn't break a bone or get stabbed to an organ he's going to be able to hack it. So he keeps going.

Anyone he sees who needs help will get it. Anyone who's willing to fight with him, he'll be grateful for. He tries to stick close to his friends but sometimes the fight necessitates they split up, in which case he's an absolute whirlwind trying to fight his way back afterwards. A few times he's surrounded and could really use a hand... and sometimes he'll see someone else surrounded and shout at the monster to try and make himself the new target instead. The world is your stage, friends, come fight with him! (Or ask for help!) ]

ii. healing, as he now also do; OTA

[ Eventually, Wash takes a breather at Red Wings, which is still chaotic but he knows he can trust the people around him, at least. But as it's sort of their HQ right now, lots of Displaced are coming in and some of them are hurt. Most, too much for Wash to do anything about, but when he spots someone injured but not badly enough to be asking for help, he makes his way over. He's just learned that his power has evolved, and he can heal other people as well as himself... he doesn't know its limits yet and this might be a good time to test them. He wants to help. ]

Hey... do you need someone to take a look at that?

[ If nothing else he knows a lot of field medicine from being a space marine for roughly ever. ]

iii. wildcard;

[ ooc: hit me at cuddlebug if you'd like a closed starter! ]

back to red wings; closed to lance

[hardwearing]

iv. back to red wings; closed to Lance

[ It isn't long before Wash is bringing someone in to Red Wings who needs more help than he can manage with his healing. The man has deep claw gashes across his chest and Wash doesn't have a suture kit on him -- he comes in the door sideways with the guy's arm over his shoulders, blood soaking his own shirt as well. ]

I could use some help over here!

aerith gainsborough | ota

[cetra]

❀Rᴇᴅ Wɪɴɢs - Tʜᴇ Dᴀʏ

For the first time, Aerith considers her previous healing abilities a crutch. She knows the basics of first aid - it certainly helps when there are many around her familiar in things such as setting a splint tightly and what to do with deep, bleeding wounds.

She's a quick study, however, and she can stop bleeding or try ease someone's pain from what little they have. There's the occasional wish for her materia, her staff, her connection to the Planet. It made it so easy to wave away the injuries and hurt.

Yup, she had definitely been spoiled before.

If she sees someone come in the door, she does her best to greet them and direct them where ever they need to go. Supplies to one area, wounded to another, people seeking shelter she gives some sort of task to keep them busy if she can. She knows better than anyone being idle makes the mind wander to dark places.

She's got a nice little scarf wrapped over her head, covering her lack of hair, and she might seem a little rushed at times, but she always has a moment to stop and talk to anyone.

Especially true if she comes across someone who seems to be in pain.

❀Rᴇᴅ Wɪɴɢs - Tʜᴇ Eᴠᴇɴɪɴɢ

By the time the day starts to end, Aerith is feeling a tired weight on her shoulders, making her feel sluggish and slow. She's
likely to be off in a corner, stretching her arms over her head to work out the kinks in her back.

Working hard is what she strives to do, but she knows her body might need a break. Even if for a few hours. She's still in High Alert mode, now flinching a little bit when the door slams open with someone new. She always hopes it's more supplies, or someone being escorted to safety. Less hurt, more help.

Her smile might be a little more tired, but it's still there

[OOC: Aerith is at Red Wings trying to help and bandage and stitch and heal. If anyone wants to teach her things (STITCHING UP WOUNDS IS A++) then she is happy to learn. If anyone is injured and wants her helping hands, she's there for that, too. And to talk their ear off. Feel free to hit me up if you want a specific starter and I can write it! I'm on discord @ wittyisland#1058 or violentwords. I am open for anything :) Brackets or prose is great! ]

The Day

[filloryfanatic]

[A mix of this and what we talked about!]

Quentin was not lucky enough to be at Red Wings when it all started. He was in his apartment which meant that he could try to shelter at home, but it simply wasn't in him to do that. Not when he heard screaming in the streets. This isn't the first time he's run into danger so he's pretty good at ducking and weaving, and started to pick people up as he went. It wasn't a huge distance, but it felt like it would never end.

He hurried across to Red Wings, encouraging people to go inside, when he turns and sees that three of the people he thought were close behind him were stuck on the other side of the street. Quentin has no fighting ability and a giant boar decides right then to come pounding down the street, the ground shaking. He steps inside, covered in dirt and dust, and looks around for someone who isn't currently busy.

"Hi." He's exhausted but feverishly focused, glancing at Aerith. "I need help as a look out? There's a few people hiding across the street, I can't look both ways safely to ferry them, can you come?"

trevor belmont | OTAs, closed in replies

[doesitanyway]

i. fighting is his jam; OTA

[ This is more like it.

Okay, the whole being invaded by monsters things sucks, both for the city and for individuals, but Trevor... feels alive again in a way he hasn't since he got kidnapped on the trip where they unlocked the gates. Monsters!! This is what he was born for, raised to do, trained and has done for his entire life, and he missed it. Not just the heat of battle but protecting people, having his purpose back. He doesn't know what he's going to do with himself when this is all over, but right now it's amazing for him.

He understands that most people won't feel that way, and so tries not to smile too much as he cuts down the creatures with the Morning Star. The metal of his whip glints in the light, and if it's too dark he's just creating his own, little twinkles that follow the chain and blade. In this kind of crisis he doesn't care about showing off the whip he's not meant to have, it's saving lives and they can pry it from his cold dead fingers.

Which he won't have today. Trevor Belmont doesn't fear death but he also fears no demon. These are far weaker, far stupider than vampires or the Night Horde, forged from humans.

Every now and then he can't help by laugh as the monsters rush him, dancing into the fight with delight. It's a sight to behold. ]

ii. all good things must end - monsterification; OTA (CW body horror)

[ Nothing good lasts forever, alas. It takes awhile, but Trevor does eventually get bitten but good by one of the insectoid creatures... and the resulting feeling is the first thing to slow him down. The pain ripples through him, tearing a scream from his throat, and he begins to transform into one of the bat creatures, starting with skin growing over his mouth and eyes. He continues to scream, muffled, vocal chords still working despite his mouth being covered, clawing at his face until he grows real claws.

The bat-creature will still be wearing what Trevor was, for anyone who might have spotted him earlier, and he's still got the Morning Star on his hip... but his shirt tears up the back as wings sprout painfully from his shoulder blades. He falls to the ground on all fours, as the berserker rage takes over.

He's very sorry to whoever the first person to encounter him is, as he's going to attack the shit out of them. But hopefully you saw enough to know what was going on, first, and help him out of it... ]

iii. twinkly lights - monsterified but sane; OTA

[ Bless you, Good Samaritan who snapped him out of the rage... but he's still a bat. This is objectively terrible, except for how this form has even greater strength and speed (and flight!) than he normally would. It's hard to navigate by sound alone but that sense is enhanced to the point he can hear a heartbeat as well as he can a scream, and this is the latter. He hears a struggle and heads towards it, manages to identify who's the person and who's the monster, and tears it to shreds. Later in the event he'll be able to swoop in and grab them to do so, then circle back to check on the civilian.

Except he can't speak. So what he's doing, this bat-monster dressed like a person with a whip on his hip, is use his lights to spell things out in front of him. ]

R U OK?

[ Look, his lights are limited. The fewer letters the better, and he's seen people text like this back when he had eyes. ]

iv. Wildcard;

[ ooc: hit me at cuddlebug for a closed starter! ]

Twinkly lights

[requiemshark]

[ So, this is a new one. Ephemera's been in the scrum for a while now, putting his armor and weapons to good use. He's got his rifle, a baton and a number of regular knives, and Ginia's massive dagger strapped to his armor. He cooked up some napalm canisters earlier but ran out a few hours ago. The monsters here respond in the expected ways to fire; even rage like that falls to animal logic in the end. It helps to know that he can rely on fire, regardless of how the rest of this nonsense shakes out.

He squints at the monster in front of him, his rifle aimed and ready.

This one is wearing clothes, though. And he recognizes that whip, even before it summons the lights.

Ephemera lowers the rifle. ]

Fuck. Trevor?

Wade Wilson | OTA

[ishotyouuu]

(Starters to follow. Hit me up at pillowtalkative if you want a specific one!)

[ishotyouuu]

[Wade had made the dubious decision to go for a late-night stroll, and an equally dubious decision to take his ill-gotten machete with him. The city may have had its rules regarding weapons, but Wade never felt comfortable walking the streets unarmed, and he'd been feeling incredibly twitchy ever since he came back from Torture Simulator 2.0. Fortunately, his twitchiness may well have saved his life this time.

It was like the change in the air before a big fight. One minute, everything was almost unnaturally quiet, and the next everything was an explosion of howling, shrieking chaos as a multitude of monstrosities burst through the city walls. Something large and hideously strong slams into Wade's shoulder, driving him to the ground, and he twists around to see a creature that is half-man, half-scorpion currently pinning him down.]

Oh, for fu-- when are you guys gonna get it through your heads that I'm not Spider-Man? He doesn't have the market on snazzy red and black outfits, y'know!

[The creature's only response is to raise its tail threateningly, and Wade makes the split second decision to yank himself free. There is a loud tearing sound as his red coat is ripped from the creature's needle-sharp and chitinous legs, but he manages to escape seconds before that wicked-looking tail slams down. Wade darts a short distance away, taking the time to inspect the damage to his clothing.]

You know how much this cost, you Raid-sucking piece of garbage?!

[The scorpion-thing only repositions itself for another charge, and Wade finds himself smiling fiercely.]

Okay, then. That's the way you wanna play it? Come at me, Gregor Samsa. You're goin' down like an elbowed soccer player!

Natasha Romanoff | Marvel Cinematic Universe | Starters to Follow

[bornrussian]

[Gonna hit up my planned starters below and add as needed. Hopefully gonna have at least one open one. If you got an idea you want to throw at me, go for it! Or if you want to plan something out hit me up at peerpressure  ]

closed to tyler the surfer

[bornrussian]

[It's easy to lose track of time. Of how many different monsters have fallen upon them. The frightened faces of civilians they help usher to relative safety all blend together as hour flows into hour.

Even with improvised weapons the three of them fight well together. Though maybe that's oversimplifying it. Barnes and Steve fight well together. She and Steve fight well together. As long as they keep Steve at the tip of their pyramid, they're a well-oiled fighting machine. But, there's a promise there, that with practice, Barnes and Natasha might find the same easy rhythm they both share with Steve.

At first, the monsters tearing through the night is almost a relief. This, at least, is familiar. Nothing like immediate danger to distract from the memories threatening to consume her.

Then, the hours drag on. The sun rises and glints on too tall-buildings, reflecting down to the street level. It becomes clearer -- from the frantic network posts flying up across their eyes every other second -- that this isn't some isolated incident. It isn't just one part of town. It's all of New Amsterdam. More than that, it's happening all over the world.

Natasha keeps a muted newscast playing at the corner of her eye. Images are pouring in from New Tokyo, New Hong Kong, New Oslo... It all looks the same. It's becoming easier, to filter augmented reality screens from actual reality, to see the shift of a monster rushing towards her through the concerned face of the news anchor.

It's funny, in the past twelve hours, she's seen more of New Amsterdam than she has since arriving at Red Wings dressed up like the zombie she feels like some days. They're moving through the streets, dispatching of monsters and trying to help any civilians in their path. Thankfully, there are less of those now than when it started. Hopefully, it's because they've found shelter somewhere, and not because they've all been eaten by monsters, but Natasha isn't willing to discount either theory.

A sound filters down from above, a series of snarls echoing down through chasm created by the buildings followed by a panicked shriek. Natasha leans her head back, shading her eyes from the sun. A group of winged creatures seem to be swarming across one of the rooftops, swooping down occasionally with a triumphant screech.

Natasha doesn't even have to look to Steve. She just starts moving towards the building, already searching for an entrance. Something on that roof is drawing their attention.]

Bucky Barnes

[freightcars]

( misc. to follow )

[fossils]

[ The sun's starting to rise, peeking out between then buildings.

Earlier on in the night they'd rescued a hotheaded kid, couldn't have been more than thirteen, who'd got separated from his group of would-be monster slayers. They'd escorted him to one of the PRESERVE stations in one piece, and the kid graciously handed Steve the crowbar he'd been struggling to carry.

He's swinging that now at the shifting creature that's blocking their exit to the street back to the safehouse. One of those subway rat-looking things nearly took a chunk out of his left calf just a little bit before and he's favoring it. The shapeshifter doesn't even bother to dodge, just stands there and takes the blow-- softened by the appearance of hard plating. It swings the other arm, clawed and sharp, forcing Steve to parry. ]

Buck--! [ shouted back without looking.

This is a new one. ]

nathan lowell | open and closed to follow.

[acheless]

[ if you'd like an edit, change plans, or just touch base, pm me or add/pp me at virginiawoolf! ]

red wings, ota.

[acheless]

[ The world erupts. Nathan spends the first day thinking, undeniably, about magic. He runs between places and goes where he's pointed, helping with supplies at relief spots or grabbing bodies for medi-units. War's a foreign animal to him. Two years of nothing except rolling fucking hills. A number of years before that running ragged, after singular objects and individual people, slinging magic on a sprint. A marathon like this? Nathan's never been one for it.

He gets sleep. Some, anyway. Being of service means making yourself fucking useful. Means taking care of your own limitations. By the dawn of the second day, Nathan's about ready to head back out there. See what the light brings as he looks out one of the windows, at the orange slats streaking across the sky.

Strangely, it's quiet here. Tail end of a lot of people ready to rest, maybe. There's not a lot of preamble to the way Nathan approaches somebody else who looks just as tired as he felt four hours ago. ]

You look like shit.

[ He says, not that companionably. Seems pretty hit or miss as to whether the water bottle he hands over softens the blow any, though, and it sits about half-empty. Better to ration supplies right now. At least his voice pitches quiet, less directly confrontational than he usually appears. ]

Terrence Ephemera | OTA

[requiemshark]

Red Wings

[ There haven't been many opportunities to break out the armor that Ephemera stole from that mercenary all that way back in New Cairo, but this seems as good a time as any to let it get some real use in. The test with the Freelancers, such as it was, ended quickly. He has a feeling this won't.

In a lot of ways, it feels like going back to war. Being in the sim reminded him of the Insurrection but this, this is the fucking scrum. He wonders what it says that he missed it, that he can fall so quickly into the old patterns and take comfort from the feel of a rifle in his hands and armor on his shoulders. It's not power armor, only base tactical gear, but it's more than a lot of people have around these parts. He's kitted out with a full set, Ginia's massive knife sheathed at his back, a side arm and rifle at his side. And while he's scuffed up, a bruise beginning to show on his cheek, he doesn't look worried. He stands with his back to the wall, his helmet under his arm and a water bottle in hand, and takes a moment to catch his breath.

It feels like going home. ]

You doing okay?

[ Feels like the thing to ask, under the circumstances. ]

Monsters

[ Back out in the street, Ephemera has returned to his element. His armor is black, his rifle held steady in his hands. There are designs painted into the armor, though, subtle things only visible in certain light and the correct angles. He's painted geometric patterns into the surface with black and dark blue ink, mandalas and repeating systems of triangles and hexagons. Subtle compared to most of his work, but it felt important to make the armor his own.

He holds up his first abruptly, a near universal gesture. Halt.

Around the corner, a crash and growl can be heard. ]

Sounds pissed off. You good to go?

[ Because that needs to be fucking handled. ]

Wildcard

[ Go nuts. Hit me up at mirrorfaded if you’re in the mood for something specific. ]

wildcard-ish;

[powerofgod]

( it is... easy, now, to exist among humans. he has adapted to being one of them again. adjusted. he has made friends, as odd as the word sits in his mind and on his tongue. but ephemera was the first, which is why godric seeks him out. once he finds him — )

Take your shirt off.

( what a greeting.

he intends to draw a rune on ephemera's skin, and the back or chest are the easiest areas to cover and the least likely to smudge or take other damage, but. he probably could have.

lead with that. )

gene hicks | ota (blanket cws: blood, gore, potential for death+related injuries))

[preseance]

𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒
 gory, gory what a helluva way to die;
  medical-action oriented, cr-building, new and old cr alike both welcome!

( he's covered in blood that ain't his own an' don't seem all that mindful of it. instead, he's cleared off a bartop an' is feedin' an IV line into a civilian. is he about to do field surgery right here just adjacent the bar's supply of whiskey? you bet he is. )

You there.

( he don't seem to care much who he's addressing, an' his tone has the crack of command ain't but a few folk here've ever heard from him. )

I need another set of hands. Press here, an' don't let go.

𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑
 at the death of every darkness there's a morning;
  eye of the storm-oriented, a moment's peace, potential for epic fights+union attacks, cr-building, anyone needing a moment back from the fight. new and old cr alike welcome!

( it's obvious there's been one helluva fight here. civilian bodies are strewn about an' monsters too, there's a ruined fountain that's gone rust red with blood. gene's sittin' on a block of stone eatin' a protein bar of sorts, a rifle leaned up beside him. he looks like he ain't slept in a while, but seems alert enough for all that. he tosses another of the bars to your character. )

Ought to grab some rest while you can. How's your ammo count? Got a few rounds I could spare.

( medics were still trained in combat, an' though gene only ever carried a 1911 in the fight he's a damn crack shot, an' though he ain't come up against but a few of the monsters he's learned how to make his shots count against 'em.

but christ o'lordy, he'd straight up kill a man for a cigarette about now. )

𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄
 when does it get quiet;
  ambush!! fighting+cooperation, potential for union attacks, feel free to have your characters get injured for that sweet, sweet h/c. new and old cr alike both welcome!

( he's leanin' up against a wall, head tipped down against his chest, rifle slotted up against his shoulder. ain't been like that more than a quarter hour or so — old soldier's trick, to catch sleep when an' where an' however the hell you can. at the first scrape of those claws against concrete, he's up an' alert, kickin' his boot against the nearest bedframe if the first of those scrapes didn't rouse the sleeper in it. )

Rise an' shine. If you ain't a fighter, get upstairs an' find Clarke.

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃
 all those empty rooms, we could been anywhere, anywhere else

( gene will be healing people as best he can, and patching up those he can't or is two exhausted to heal. He will be checking in on anyone he encounters and gauging their mental and physical ability to keep on fighting. he's willing to grab/recruit others to go look for the injured regardless of prior or existing cr.

if anyone seems to be suffering from combat stress, he'll sit with them a time and tell them stories about back home in agathine. and if anyone dies and needs to get hauled to a medi-unit, he's available to grab bodies too, probably with a jeep he's using from PRESERVE. anything not listed here? go nuts, or hmu on vitarays)

red wings!

[lifetothefullest]

[Lance has mostly been staying out of the way of people who actually seem to know what they're doing, handling minor injuries and some stitches when necessary; he'd done that enough in Hadriel to be confident in taking care of people to that extent here.

So although he's seen Gene he hasn't really bothered him, just letting him handle things, and it takes a brief moment for Lance to realize he's suddenly being addressed. Oh, he's getting pulled into this. Okay. He'll learn something, he supposes.

He puts pressure where indicated, hesitating to ask, but--]

Okay, got it. How bad...?

[Is the injury. It seems bad, but he's hoping he's wrong.]

kassandra | ota

[chaire]

1. it's time to dance: basilisks

[ she should feel a little guilty for the thrill that she gets, dodging in and out of the crowd, deftly avoiding the people who don't quite seem to see her. but a running crowd means there's a monster to be found.

it isn't a gun, but Kassandra's managed to find herself a sharp dagger, and a bow. she's fashioned her own arrows in her spare time-- and it's fascinating what some charcoal and a small lighter can do to imitate some of her fire arrows from the olden days. still... she doesn't feel great about the thin armor under her shirt. things to consider-- but then she slams to a stop as a giant snake slides past one of the alleyways, leaving an aborted scream in its wake, and kassandra is suddenly very aware of the statues. the human statues.

where has she seen that before? ]

Malàka...

[ she mutters quietly under her breath. But, the blue glow? that was telling her she had the jump on it. and so, she starts to climb the building as quickly as she can, just so she can stab her dagger into the thing's head. ]

2. a rescue mission: bats

[ it's exhausting. most of the time, at least. how she ends up in situations like this, though, where she comes across a crying child and stops. a pang of remembrance hits her. she realizes that while the situation is fine for her, despite her exhaustion, the blood surrounding this girl, covering her white dress, brings an uncomfortable memory to the edges of her mind. and rather than keep going after the monsters, she scoops the child into her arms.

she's murmuring comfort, but the overhead sound of wings flapping is impossible to ignore. and this was no hardened child, judging by the sudden screams she gives at the sound.

Kassandra wastes no time and takes off running-- but she clearly needs an assist from the bats flying behind her. ]

3. a diversion

[ honestly, no one should be able to just jump from as high as she seems to manage. and yet, she jumps down into the center of a group of monsters, surrounding a few civilians. and maybe you.

a moment later, arrows that it wasn't even obvious she'd fired land in at least two of their eyes, giving a break in the formation. there isn't much to say-- at this point, she's covered in blood and bandages. and it's not exactly obvious how much of it is hers or someone (or thing) else's. but she doesn't really have too much time for pleasantries.

in fact, she seems a bit surprised if anyone speaks to her. ]

4. bone tired

[ finally, at red wings, she's exhausted. she drinks water, bandages her wounds with the practice of someone used to it.

but realistically, she needs five minutes, a chance to clean the blood off her weapons and her face, before she goes right back outside. ]

(ooc: if you would like, feel free to wildcard me, or contact me at either hypothetical or raina#6340 on disco. thanks!)

Bats!

[championofsnark]

[Hawke's been out and about since the first set of screams began and she's barely slept since she got back from Antarctica as it bloody is. But nothing wakes her up as well as adrenaline. She has her blade now, thankfully having woken up before her journey with it in hand, but she's well aware about her lack of armor. It can't be changed. She'll check in and see if there's a way to store up on better stuff later, for now Hawke's running on pure energy.

She's covered in blood and bits by this point, her blade wet with it, and she's in a brief moment of respite when she hears a screaming girl. Hawke's head jerks over in the direction of seeing Kassandra running toward her with a girl in her arms and some flying monsters coming at them. As someone who has fought and killed dragons before, she is not cowed by flying beasts.]

Find a corner to hide in and stay still and quiet. They can hear!

[She says sharply to Kassandra, having already been scratched up by one of these bastards before. Simply from her speaking aggressively out loud, the bats put their full attention onto her. Hawke purposely clans her blade and backs up toward a wall, waiting until one swoops at her to roll out of the way, causing it to smash right into the wall. Without missing a beat she slices at its neck to kill it while it is still stunned. She narrowly dodges another bat and keeps making noise, trying to get them away from Kassandra and the girl.]

gaby teller | closed —

[myownwoman]

( closed starters within )

— for nate

[myownwoman]

[ the monsters gaby is used to are men, soldiers and informants and stasi. the emp made sense to her because it felt man made, destruction through technology, cassius was easy to rationalize, even if the technology was far beyond her realm of understanding.

these monsters are something else entirely.

gaby has thus far, missed all of them. sure, she has scene a fair number of the small, squirrelish ones that nibble on the greenery that had started growing in excess after their trip to zerzura. but she has managed to somehow miss all the other instances of them -- the dreams, the gates, the trip to adelaide. this is the first time gaby has come face to face with monsters that look like they have come crawling out of a film, golden eyes reflecting off the garish light of the city.

a mole had burrowed into her kitchen and gaby had fled the building without pausing to dress, finding herself on the street in a pair of pyjamas, sandals in hand. she takes the five seconds to put them on, but it's five seconds that find someone slamming into her and then finds her sprawled out on the ground. this is not her finest moment, a disheveled halo of short dark hair making her look all the more rumpled as she pushes to her feet only to find herself standing twenty metres from a menacingly purring horned creature that makes gaby's blood run cold.

she doesn't hesitate, turning and sprinting away until she can duck into an alcove, breathing heavy, palms bloody from her earlier fall. illya's timing was somewhat less than ideal in leaving right when she needs him. or any of her friends. now she is alone. ]

godric | ota (cw for blood+injuries)

[powerofgod]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
 i'll be the hammer of war;
  come fight alongside a two thousand year old vampire-turned-human! it'll be a great time. new+old cr both welcomed.

( there is something in him that still sings in the heady thrum of battle. his people used war drums once — there is something deeply primal about the way the beat instructs the rhythm of your heart. no such drums are here, but he can smell blood on the air.

he's just wrestled one of the creatures to the ground and stuck a knife through the base of its neck, severing its spinal column. when he glances up, he catches sight of your character. for a moment it may seem as if there is nothing human about his expression, it is something wholly feral and ancient. and then he blinks and the moment passes. he heaves himself off the corpse and comes to your character. )

If we are to fight, my ability may offer you some protection so long as you have no objection to being bloody.

( he rolls up one sleeve. scrawled on his forearm is a rune that glows so as to seem seared upon his skin, in a text millennia extinct. it's obviously inked in blood, but whose? hard to say. )

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓
 i had been lost to you, sunlight;
  failure+escape. cr-building, action-oriented. protection detail for civilians. get out or get dead! new and old cr alike welcome.

( he cannot recall the last time he felt truly overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the enemy. he does not think he ever entertained such a situation as a vampire, which means his only existing familiarity with it would have been as a boy looking out over the marching legions of julius caesar.

but he is no fool. two thousand years, countless battles, centuries as a political tactician. he knows when he is beat. they are holed up inside a small store, its walls hold for now but he can hear the groan of girders and concrete giving way beneath the atrophy the monsters spread as they go.

he turns to one of the civilians present, a worker by their uniform. not unkindly, he asks them if there is an rear exit to the building. when they apply to the affirmative, godric turns to the other displaced among the group and says: )

Take point. I'll guard the flank. We'll need a vehicle to transport this many civilians.

( are you really going to take orders from a teenager? up to you!! )

THE CAVES;
 every tomb, every sea, spit the bones from your teeth;
  a moment's reprieve, cr-building, let's talk monsters/investigative possibilities.

( tracking the monsters is no more difficult than hunting other manners of prey. godric may have approached your character at the Red Wings bar and asked if they would accompany him to the creature's lairs. after all, it is how one hunts a vampire.

perhaps he asked your character because he knows them. perhaps it is because he bore witness to them fighting earlier and has come to understand them as competent. perhaps they are merely the only person left in the bar who is uninjured and does not appear to be wholly exhausted. whatever the reason, let's saddle up and go.

he packs lightly, a rifle slung over his shoulder despite the fact his preferred method of fighting seems to be the long knife at his belt. hope you're up for a hike.

as you're walking together, he cants his head to one side. )

If we die in the caves, it is unlikely that anyone will be able to retrieve our bodies for resurrection.

( just in case you wanted to turn back... )

WILDCARD;
 under the waves and the earth of an age, lie a thousand old northerners graves;

( godric will be primarily focused on fighting. he will organize civilians and seems to naturally step into roles with a leadership bent. he will enlist your character for any tasks they seem suited for if they appear amenable to it. however, if your character is focused on being a leader themselves, he has no issue taking orders of his own and will assist with whatever is necessary.

he will rescue civilians or displaced whenever possible and seems to have absolutely zero qualms about putting himself in danger doing so. he probably seems preternaturally detached from any scenes of carnage or gore that he may come across — weird for a teenager, right?

his power is that he can empower himself and one other individual with blood runes. these runes add a minor buff to strength or speed, and will last until the blood is smudged or flaked off. if none of the above strike your fancy, hmu at vitarays for a plotting sesh. )

Wildcard-y rescue him

[filloryfanatic]

(Quentin's been able to sneak out a few times to look for survivors, moving low and quick so that he doesn't get the attention of any of the monsters. They seem more interested in targeting others so he has only had one or two close calls, and usually that's when he's trying to move a small group like at this very moment. He saw people who were trying to get out of a parking lot, and stopped them before they ran out into a group of spiders.

They've been slowly making their way to a building he knows has been secured and brought people before, since Red Wings can't take in everyone. Quentin gestures for people to stay down and the building is in sight. He thinks they can probably get around to it, but he feels a slight rumbling under their feet.)

Oh fuck, move, move, now.

( He's seen the rat-mole creatures only one time before but he's seen how fast they move out from below the ground and then back down. The people follow his instruction and he tries to move with them, but he's not quite fast enough. One of them breaks ground right next to him and immediately pounces on top of him. Quentin goes down hard but his hands move up to try and keep it from hurting him. It looks as if it is going to bite him ... but pauses, showing more hesitance to kill him when it would have instantly eaten anyone else. He's as confused as the rat-mole, struggling underneath it. He's still in need of a rescue for sure.)

castiel | OTA, with closed stuff in replies

[unwings]

monster fighting;

[ it would’ve been a damn shame for cas to last one half a fight as a human in this world. knocked down, thrown onto his back by a canine-like plant creature, cas’s machete is too far out of reach. the monster vaults onto his chest, ready to shred him. in the frantic grapple to throw the thing off, cas’s hand pushes back against the plant-puppy’s face for an instant, trying to hold off snapping teeth. this is about to be one of the stupidest deaths cas has had yet, when the monster goes slack, collapsing against him.

it’s— asleep.

it’s asleep and cas shoves it off, only to uncover the brilliant blue glow shining through his shirt. ]

That’s not historically reassuring.


[ later in the day, there’s a lull between the waves of creatures and cas takes refuge in red wings, near the medics while having a particularly nasty gash tended to. he’s there when a citizen patient in much worse condition comes in, in pain and thrashing around, making it difficult for the medics to tend to them. ]

I can help.

[ cas tells one of the staff quietly, before reaching past them to touch two fingers to the patient’s forehead. like the creature earlier, they’re unconscious the second after. ]

red wings; research donation

[ the battle for new amsterdam rages on outside red wings, and during a brief respite, castiel comes shuffling into the bar, dragging a lump of something unconscious and ugly behind him. It appears to be one of the weird plant monsters. grossness drags a streak on the floor behind it, a mix of dirt, moss, blood (?), and monster guts, which cas doesn’t seem to take much note of. priorities, you know?

cas speaks up to the first person to wander by, in a voice so flat it almost seems on purpose. ]

Please accept this— [ pausing to squint down at it, ] —repulsive, fungal-wolf creature as a donation to science.

[ to research, he means. he’s really tired, okay? cas and dean have been out in the streets fighting at ground level, with machetes. it’s not a clean practice. castiel’s clothes smudged with dirt, scorch marks, slashes from claws, and the ever-present cocktail of blood and monster guts. this clearly isn’t a new look for him, as he’s less concerned about that, more worried that he isn’t being given immediate direction for this donation.

a blink, cas clears his throat (ahem), and announces, with a pinch of sheepishness that he’s trying to cover with confidence: ]

I don’t know when it’ll wake up.

[ yeah, the monster isn’t exactly dead, just asleep. so, someone please tell him where to put this creature. somewhere it won’t start mauling people. ]

Wildcard;

[ toss me whatever, or shoot me a pp at wuzzafuzzle if you want to plot! ]

closed to dean;

[unwings]

[ carelessness, that's what it amounts to. he'd found his power, dean was happily hacking away at monsters practically with a spring in his step, as if picking flowers, cas wasn't completely useless, and he'd let down his guard. he missed the winged bee-vulture abomination swooping in on his left. a quick snap of teeth, and now he's here. ]

Dean.

[ here is tugging insistently at dean's bicep to keep him from immediately pouncing off after the next mob of monsters to take down, cas already feeling the agonizing burn of the venom spreading under his skin. hand pressed to the bite wound on his shoulder, it's not enough to keep blood from seeping through his fingers. ]

Wait. [ another tug at his jacket and cas is trying to conceal a wince as the poison sets in deeper, making him ache. he starts to pat at the pockets on dean's jacket, worry setting in, ] The medical kit. Where'd you put it?

[ you know, that one he pointed to and said 'dean, don't forget to take that with, i can't heal you this time', that medical kit. it's just a wound, right? just a bite, just going to cover it up, noooo big deal.

a sharp hiss is sucked through his teeth and cas abruptly doubles over, pain wracking through his body with every pulse in his veins. castiel's vision gets fuzzy around the edges, lightheaded, and bones wrenching like they're trying to shift. oh, this might need more than a bandaid. ]

clarke griffin ( open and closed below )

[strove]

[Feel free to do any additional planning here. I'm happy to write you a top level as needed!]

red wings hq ( ota )

[strove]

[Clarke is in the back of Red Wings when the mole creatures burst through the floor down below. She's in the process of helping get some of the food prepped for later that day, and she stops what she's doing to go investigate. Worried, if only for a moment, about what this could mean for them, she sets off to the hatch that's beneath the bar.

And that's when she sees them. Golden eyes. Her chin lifts briefly, she feels guilt wash over her, and then she springs into action. Even if they could have prepared for this (and she knows some people tried), the ability to tear into a safehouse is beyond what she could have imagined. But she's never been one to wallow in guilt. At least, not for a while, not since she turned her back on her people following the death of everyone in Mount Weather. She won't do that again.

The Displaced are, by and large, not hers, but they are to some extent, too. She's responsible to them. And she knows they'll want to help. Because of course they will.

After a brief respite away from the bar—anyone who's dropped in to see what's going on will get a "be right back"—she returns and is ready to set up shop. Red Wings is an HQ for the Displaced. There's no better time to treat it like one than now.

So:

a. She'll be helping PRESERVE come in. Clarke will be familiar with some of them, as she worked and volunteered with them for several months. She'll continue to work with them when she can, as she's done this before.

b. She will have some weapons stored away. Clarke won't be giving them away to just anyone, but if someone asks, she may be amenable.

c. She'll be taking some time to herself, when necessary. Clarke's open to questions. If someone's up for a discussion while they keep an eye out for monsters, she's game.

d. Tunnels? Fortifying? Clarke will be around, at least when she's not going through some gnarly stuff herself.

For that matter, Clarke will be gone for a time on her own monstrous adventure … of sorts. She won't be eager to share, but will seem haunted after it happens. Feel free to assume any of the above happen after this horrible overture for her.]

riku ( ota )

[inherited]

[Any additional planning can go here!]

of course he's a bat ( ota )

[inherited]

[At some point, Riku decided that the monsters of this world couldn't harm him personally. With Darkness trapped in his heart, he believed he could overcome the effects to the point of recklessness. It's how he ends up how he does, sprouting large, leathery wings, and forced to become less than himself.

Riku as a monster is—problematic, to say the least. His eyes are a bright golden color, and if he could see himself, he'd hate it. Hate what the golden eyes could mean. Hate the rage coursing through him. But more than that, his natural limberness and strength makes him a beast.

He's swift as he dives down at his targets, flying from high above to make the movement. Fearless.

How much of this is Riku and how much is the thing that's taken him over? It's hard to say. But he's not offering many answers.]

goro akechi ( open and closed below )

[impede]

[Feel free to do any additional plotting here! Happy to write anything more specialized as needed.]

ferocity ( ota )

[impede]

[The only thing that's missing is his power.

Oh, these monsters are different from the ones in the lab. They're vicious and they even want him to become one of them. It's truly fascinating to see it at work, and it makes him wish that he could drive them a little madder, all to see what could happen.

But that won't be happening here.

Once Akechi gets going, he gets going. He's vicious and unhinged, acting more unrestrained than ever before. It's all truly ... well ... it could be monstrous. Ruthless might be the better word.

Coming across Akechi won't lead to him making friendly banter. He'll say something more like,] Gonna lend a hand? Or fucking gawk all day?

[And that's if he's talking. If he's not, he'll take down a monster with a careful shot, right before he begins laughing. Of course, his laughter is more like a cackle.

Is he ... unhinged? Most likely. But he definitely feels alive.]

silena beauregard | closed —

[chocolateries]

( closed starters within )

— for quentin

[chocolateries]

[ there was a running joke amongst the demigods that the children of aphrodite will stop in front of every mirror or reflective surface -- it is true, silena is deeply vain, but as she jogs through the city, hurdling monster carcasses and decapitating them just in case, silena keeps looking into the windows of shuttered businesses, but not to find her own reflection. ]

Quentin? [ no luck and of course there isn't, this isn't her power and she can't make quentin activate it with the power of her will alone.

but logic will not stop her from darting around city calling his name into glass windows and the compact mirror she carries in her back pocket. ]

Quentin! Quentin! [ again and again she calls his name until it works! ]

Quentin! [ she stumbles into him and ] Oh, you're real.

[ even better! right in front of her is much better than a reflection. ]