synergismus: (Default)
A Shadowy Cabal (Mod Acct) ([personal profile] synergismus) wrote in [community profile] multiversallogs2011-05-27 08:05 pm

plot } the creatures descend.

Who: Everyone!
What: Creatures descend!
Where: All across the city, although attacks will be most fervent at its heart.
When: Friday/Veerdi evening and into the week.
Notes: Slow and back-tagging is, as always, permitted. If you are confused, look at these two posts for more information.
Warnings: Violence, creepiness, swearing knowing these characters.
On Veerdi, the presence of the creatures reaches a fever pitch. Something has provoked them into launching an all-out assault, though it is one that begins slowly. The pipe-crawlers, generally harmless though they may be, are seen across homes in Baedal, sneaking up through the pipes and into bathtub drains or sinks. They come by the dozens, and their keening makes most homeowners nauseated--but it's their appearance that leads to a number of distressed Network calls.

This is just the distraction for the rest.

The call of the crawlers draws in the armored, sickly creatures with the tiny primates carried inside of it. They are inelegantly lumbering, but much faster than one might expect, and certainly hostile. They trudge across the city, barreling over anyone who gets in their path and leaving them half-crushed in the street. They're certainly unsettling in their obvious unhealthiness, and the disease-ridden animals they carry are downright vicious, especially once they escape (messily, bloodily) from their fleshy cage.

It's the birds that are the worst, though; the cleverest, and the cruelest.

These strange black birds are resistant to typical attacks and flying in large groups. They descend on pedestrians, picking at their eyes and faces, ready to rapidly tear flesh from bone until there's nothing left but skeletal remains. They fly out of range when they can, only to divebomb anyone who might think they've escaped.
hehaseatenthepancake: (BOOM. Witches!)

open

[personal profile] hehaseatenthepancake 2011-05-31 04:13 am (UTC)(link)
After his adventures with Mabel, Hellboy made a quick trip to the guild hall to check in, drop off more crow pearls, possibly replace his coat again, etc., then went back out into the city. Once he arrives in Brock Marsh again, a wailing sound draws him off onto a street where a giant armadillo lurches along, sending scared civilians running.

"Oh, boy," he mutters to himself. The creature perks up one ear at the ringing metallic sound of Hellboy drawing his sword, but its attention isn't fully drawn until he calls out, "Hey! Ugly!"

Something about either his weapon, his aggression, or possibly even just his size sparks something in what passes for the creature's mind. Its keening picks up into a higher pitch, and it charges Hellboy, rearing up when it reaches him with the intent of crushing him. Hellboy, however, had set himself for the charge, his hooves dug into the street, and thrust Excalibur into the underbelly exposed by the crushing attempt. The beast was heavy, but Hellboy was strong enough, once he brought his large stone Right Hand in to support where the sword went in, to flip it over on its side instead. He drew the sword out, then thrust it in again, at an angle better planned to take out the creature's brain.

"There. That's all for you."

But that wasn't all. With the beast dead, its burden went wild, tearing themselves out of its innards by expanding the hole created by Hellboy's first sword thrust. The first monkey to come out was dressed in a wetsuit, and the absurdity of it froze him for a moment in a stunned flashback to the Bromhead/Guarino case of 1999.
"Hey," Hellboy asked. "What's that in the corner?"

Hellboy's partner, Abe Sapien, asked, "Is that a monkey?"

The monkey came more fully into view, and as he saw what it was carrying, he cried out, "He's got a gun!"

With surprisingly good aim, the monkey let off three shots with its revolver, all hitting Abe, before it threw the gun up and started running.
Behind the first monkey, a couple dozen more boil up out of the tear, and Hellboy only barely has time to utter an aggrieved, "Aw, crap," before they swarm upon him.

[identity profile] manipulativni.livejournal.com 2011-05-31 04:21 am (UTC)(link)
Katherine looks subtly impressed at the way Ilde's handling the beasts, and she finishes the last one of hers off with a final twist of its neck before joining her at the edge of the water. She's quite displeased at the state of her clothing and hair, now, but she feels good after indulging her urge to kill; invigorated. She nods to Ilde, a satisfied smile on her lips.

"Nice trick."
suninhades: (Default)

[personal profile] suninhades 2011-05-31 04:30 am (UTC)(link)
She is, demonstratively, quite fine. That particular insult doesn't hurt, really, it just angers her - the implications are personal, though the Paladin who dubbed her doesn't know the half of it - half over the language, and half over the fact that those damned Catholics don't even know what it bloody means. Arsehole.

"If the train is still running, up to one of the northmost dead ends. Don't cross any of the rivers, I suspect they'll be unstable. Tar Wedge, there's older buildings out there. The less indoor plumbing, the better. Those pipe crawlers seem to be the first sign of infestation - avoiding giving them the opportunity seems prudent."

Integra pulls three of the flares out of a pack on her saddle - it looks like there's something sewn into the sides of them, inexplicably - and hands them to Dean. "Princess Nuala was kind enough to do an emergency hack job on a rather insistent 'go away' spell," she tells him. "Are you escorting these people to the central train station, or can I give you a lift somewhere?"

[identity profile] aregulargirl.livejournal.com 2011-05-31 04:47 am (UTC)(link)
"You'd be surprised," she mutters under her breath - she's seen her fair share of similar creatures, although nothing Manticore created was ever this gruesome. "Where do you think it - "

And then she spots another - no, a group of them this time - further down the street, heading their way, and she gives the man a bewildered look before she starts heading in their direction to see what the hell these things are. She gets about ten steps into her run before the keening starts again and she stops in her tracks, doubling over and clapping a hand to her mouth.

It's even worse this time, and she bolts over to a nearby alley and retches out the contents of her stomach. The sickness doesn't pass, but as she's wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she spots a few trash cans and, thinking quickly, runs and grabs two of the lids. One of them is tossed towards Balthier, probably landing somewhere at his feet, and she uses the other to rain blows on one of the sickening creatures.

[identity profile] returntous.livejournal.com 2011-05-31 05:10 am (UTC)(link)
"Damn," she mutters. She wants a shotgun right now. Well, it's not like Hellboy was going to be producing one from his coat. Shouldering the bat, she gathers the three hapless civilians (none of this was their fault, poor things, she ought to be a little more understanding about their uselessness. She's not.)


"Better than anything I've got. Let's kick some ass."
gotbottle: (concerned)

[personal profile] gotbottle 2011-05-31 05:17 am (UTC)(link)
Rachel's attention is pulled away from her surveillance of the street outside at that sigh. She looks over at Eddie, offering a friendly, encouraging smile.

"Hey. Everything okay?"
suninhades: (Default)

this is the last edit i swear even if i notice something else D<

[personal profile] suninhades 2011-05-31 05:30 am (UTC)(link)
Integra has seen enough strange uniforms and cultural dress choices not to be too taken aback at the mask and cowl, though personally, she will never understand the inclination towards those particular heights of theatrics. (But then, she's always signed her name to the violent things she's done.) It's obvious to her - or to anyone with halfway functioning eyes, really - that Allen is very powerful, and either not human, or someone equipped very, very well. This makes him useful. If she had seen a demonstration of his power in a controlled environment she might take the time to inquire, but given their current circumstances, she is not inclined to be anything less than immediately calculating.

Perhaps that's why she doesn't waste any time telling him that his suggestion is not worth the dignity of a response, but instead merely implies it with her arch look and dry, deliberately patient tone. "I would not suggest taking your stand so close to the safehouse you've only just secured," she tells him, and then nods further up the street. "The next crossroads is more open, with less room for collateral damage. If you won't be too overwhelmed, I can go and lead other beasts away from their victims and to that point. The crows, at least, know my face by now. It will make a thorough distraction."

And indeed, up in those circling heights, something like human speech begins to solidify - harsh and accusing. An epithet, cawed with jagged edges from the unearthly crows that watch them. What they're crying, exactly, can't quite be made out through the torrent of wingbeats. Integra doesn't seem to notice.
Edited 2011-05-31 05:36 (UTC)

[identity profile] edsidlemirth.livejournal.com 2011-05-31 05:34 am (UTC)(link)
"Hm," he says, considering his answer for a bit, when a simple "yes" or "no" would do. He isn't smiling, though, and only glances at Rachel briefly, keeping most of his attention on the world outside the window.

"I've been dropped into another universe where physics works differently, but I don't get access to the weird magic. I could be out there doing something. That's really frustrating, you know? No one's even said how common something like this is."

He taps the glass, then immediately wipes the slight, possibly non-existent smudge with the sleeve of his coat. Then he smiles and actually looks over at her. "But, I'm not bleeding or anything. How are ~you~?"

[identity profile] scorpiontongue.livejournal.com 2011-05-31 05:37 am (UTC)(link)
Under normal circumstances it would indeed be a questionable decision, but for the moment these are anything but normal circumstances and that was all the answer Kriv needed. He opens his jaws again as he cuts a path through screeching flesh and a terrible tangle of syllables comes roaring out -

- behind the running Jysiri, in the midst of the vicious little mammals, a frog falls from the sky. It lands unharmed on a bare patch of sidewalk and croaks before a monkey leaps upon it, and then the monkey is screaming with three of its fingers half gone and blood on the ugly frog's wide mouth -

The frogs keep coming, and the monkeys grow louder.

"Do not look back!" Kriv has never been overly sensitive to the traumatic things he's occasionally caused innocent bystanders to witness, mind. It's more that he'd rather the frightened stranger stay focused on more helpful things, like running. Once they've reached one another he'll figure something else out.
rhinemaid: actress mia kirshner (beneath your blank and rinsing gaze ♠)

[personal profile] rhinemaid 2011-05-31 05:54 am (UTC)(link)
The illusion dissipates and leaves Ilde behind, bloody but successful and taking this opportunity to examine the claw-marks left behind on her tail. (There'd been a reason she'd felt obliged to punt it out of the water.) Other marks of interest include the fact that the uniform white of her body (with its blue-green sheen) is broken a ways below her backside in an indistinct black mark curving around half of said tail and dragging down a little one side of her.

"I have my uses," she says, though, looking up once before she does a little roll in the water to clean herself.

[identity profile] ofminastirith.livejournal.com 2011-05-31 06:12 am (UTC)(link)
"I can see why," he says rather tersely. Boromir couldn't understand most of the things here due to a quiet and self-contained culture shock, and just shock in general, but the most ridiculous thing of all was dragging so many people here without providing a way to protect them and defend the city.

A shield-maiden both is and isn't like an Amazon (warrior women and usually of noble birth), and if Cassandra ever cares to question him once this madness is done, he'll tell her as much.

"You say 'we,' in a manner that means more than both of you. Are you from Hellsing? Someone mentioned them to me not long ago."

[identity profile] nojudge.livejournal.com 2011-05-31 06:35 am (UTC)(link)
"I can appreciate a woman with that inclination," he remarks - what, the inclination to brutally squash things making her ill? apparently - though his voice sounds a little thin. He's managed not to throw up, though he does look vaguely green. He looks down at the trash can lid, considering if he'd really like to get that close to the damn things, when one of them helpfully begins skittering over to him. He kicks the lid, which slams into the creature and thus sends it flying back to the others.

"Back up." It's called out to her as he takes his own advice, right hand extended, muttering something under his breath. There's a faint glow about him for a moment, and even if Max doesn't move, well, Balthier has surgical aim with this sort of thing. A moment later, false lightning boils in a knot above the tiny monsters and shoots down in rapid, loud succession, frying the lot of them.

Of course, even with the immediate relief of the nausea, the smell of fried crawly-bug-monster is not so pleasant.

"Augh." Balthier brings one hand up over his face. "Gods, that's hardly any better."

[identity profile] ofminastirith.livejournal.com 2011-05-31 06:37 am (UTC)(link)
Boromir is very much in the heart of the Brock Marsh district, with lots of creature corpses left in his wake. Right now he's slashing and stomping on a pile of pipe-crawlers. It's a small enough group not to make him pass out from nausea, but big enough that he was able to put two and two together and realise they were the only living thing present making him very close to losing his last meal.

If anyone were close enough, they would hear him muttering, "My stewardship for a bucket of salt..."

There's a crash from behind, and he turns to see a stalker quickly charging towards him. He moves, ducks and slice. The creature is dead. And he lifts his sword to take care of the creatures waiting to burst out.
suninhades: (my death sentence is a story)

[personal profile] suninhades 2011-05-31 07:02 am (UTC)(link)
That's not all that's heading Boromir's way - a woman on horseback with her sword drawn all but flies after the crawler, though she comes to an artful stop when she sees it's been taken care of. A quick glance and she's moving again, her horse circling about the warrior (helpfully trampling some crawlers in the process) before charging back the way she came, her horse at a full gallop. If he can hear all the way up the street, she's giving sharp-toned marching orders to civilians, shepherding them out of one ruined building and into a nearby one with better structure (and fewer windows).

Once she's satisfied that everyone is inside with no immediate threat ready to break down the door they're beginning to barricade from the inside, Integra swings back around once more, and speeds in Boromir's direction, ready to assist him in any monkey-slaughtering that still needs doing. Unless he's got that covered, in which case, perhaps she'll just say hello.

[identity profile] aregulargirl.livejournal.com 2011-05-31 07:09 am (UTC)(link)
Max looks behind her once he tells her to back up, and her eyes go wide as she notices the glow. She drops the trash can lid as she leaps back, just in time to avoid getting zapped by the artificial lightening (although, in her opinion, there's nothing artificial about it). As soon as they're dead, the queasiness subsides again, and she exhales sharply, hunching over for a second with her hands on her knees as she catches her breath.

"No, but it's effective," Max grunts as she straightens, bringing a hand underneath her nose to avoid the scent. She sounds about as well as she feels, which isn't great even minus the debilitating nausea. She feels a little weak, but that'll pass quickly enough; what's mostly bothering her is the frustration. What are these things, and how are they having this effect on them? Even more importantly, where did they come from?

Taking a deep breath in through her mouth, she takes a step closer to the now-dead creatures and crouches down beside them, getting a better look. The appendages look like they were stuck on almost as an after thought, like misplaced doll parts hot glued onto a Glow Worm. She glances up at Balthier after a minute or two, frowning.

"These things aren't typical, are they?" It's...her second day, so the question is partly her being a smart-ass and partly an actual question, assuming he's been here longer than she has.
Edited 2011-05-31 07:09 (UTC)
tothelastbreath: (if you insist)

It's all good bb, I tend to bungee-edit things too \o/

[personal profile] tothelastbreath 2011-05-31 07:11 am (UTC)(link)
He happens to be all three: powerful for someone from his homeworld, not quite human anymore, and very well-equipped, especially mentally. This makes him a weapon. Better yet (although those who care for him are likely to disagree), he recognises this fact and has no problems applying himself as such. In a situation like this one, that does make him very useful. That is, when he isn't busy arguing with civilians to please just go and save themselves, which he very nearly does to Integra despite her badge, because really, he's not about to let anyone use themselves as bait.

"Sir," he begins, and it's just as well that the crows choose to cut him off with their cries at this very moment, saving them both from an unproductive debate. Gray eyes snap to the roiling sky, first wide and gauging, then narrowing in realisation. Allen can't make out what the creatures are saying either, but he knows what it means whenever any kind of build-up reaches a crescendo: they're quickly running out of time. That means they need a plan. Integra already has one, while Allen isn't even familiar with the lay of the land. All it takes is the thought of other victims to convince him, his acquiescence evident when all protest sags out of his shoulders, before they square with renewed determination.

"Alright." He can only trust that someone fit to escort a princess alone will be fine on her own, but it doesn't stop him from adding, "Please be careful. I'll be ready to cover you when you get back."

Casting the now secured doorway one last look, he turns towards the crossroads, and unless Integra has something to add, he'll be darting off to take up his position.


[[ooc: SEE WHAT I MEAN.]]
Edited 2011-05-31 07:13 (UTC)
suninhades: (the sky was blonde like her)

[personal profile] suninhades 2011-05-31 07:37 am (UTC)(link)
This is a woman who cuts through vampire super soldiers like children's toys, and who can hold Paladin Anderson at bay. Mortal, yes, but far from normal; her monstrous, abomination of a subordinate is out there still, and he fears not for his fragile human master. If Allen decided to waste his own time to argue her presence, she would have merely left. This is far more efficient.

Besides, she's curious about him.

For a heartbeat, Integra lets him go ahead of her, before she urges her horse and barrels past him - the second her back is to the flock above their heads, the crows shriek and begin to descend. Integra gets to the intersection and turns hard, circling, her horse kicking up gravel and breathing hard, before it gallops at break-neck speed in the direction they came, crossing Allen, with the crows trailing her like some great nightmare-born comet's tail. (If he catches a glimpse at her face, her expression is peculiar - in that it doesn't look much different than normal. She's serious about this, yes, but she exhibits no fear, no adrenaline-panic, and there is no trace of any battle-scarred far-stares.)

Let's hope Allen has good aim.

[identity profile] ofminastirith.livejournal.com 2011-05-31 07:39 am (UTC)(link)
By this point, the monkeys are mostly taken care of -one or two have scattered, a few are still alive. That's mostly due to the state of the stalker: its already diseased intestines lie open, visibly hacked, and small monkey limbs can be seen in amongst it all.

The few that are still alive are scaling a nearby building, screaming at Boromir as they go. Well. He's not going up there after them. He takes this opportunity for a moment's respite and stands there, breathing and trying to clear the last sickly feeling in his stomach from the pipe-crawlers' infra-sound.

Ah, the horse and it's rider have returned. He turns to greet her, "Hail, and well met."
suninhades: (no reflection here)

[personal profile] suninhades 2011-05-31 07:58 am (UTC)(link)
Integra takes a moment to wipe her sword down against her coat (it's not as if there's any grass in the center of the city, and she's not about to hop down and dig about for a clean rag) as she observes him. She thought she might have been able to place his manner of dress as she zipped by the first time, but on closer inspection, it's plainly unfamiliar. But that isn't entirely surprising, in this place.

She nods, a silent echo of his greeting, and slides her blade back into its scabbard. "Are you well, soldier?" He looks like he's in one piece well enough, if a little green around the gills. She can't help but note that it's a bit of a faith-bolstering mini-apocalypse, this whole ordeal. It's nice running into so many strangers being helpful. She thought she already knew every useful person in Baedal, depressingly small as that number might be.

[identity profile] nojudge.livejournal.com 2011-05-31 08:38 am (UTC)(link)
"Not in my experience." Balthier crouches down across from her, getting a closer look at the things. "I've seen some bizarre wild creatures, but never in a civilized area like this. And certainly not ones that inspire people to cast off their insides."

Ew. He wrinkles his nose, though there's more serious thought happening behind his dramatic little reactions. "It looks like something a child mashed together," he remarks. "Brought to life."

Somewhere up the street, there's a startled shriek, and a few people run noisily out of a cafe. Balthier raises his eyebrows.

[identity profile] nojudge.livejournal.com 2011-05-31 08:44 am (UTC)(link)
At some point, because circumstances are what they are, a certain pirate has to make something of an unglamorous escape. Shot is in rare supply, he needs time to recharge his energy to use magic, and while fighting rollers and monkeys in close quarters is effective enough considering his skill with his blade, the godsdamned birds are another story.

So he takes a breath and dives into the river.

Between the current and his ability to hold his breath while swimming, he loses his feathered adversaries rather neatly. The downside to his cunning plan, however, is that the river isn't, shall we say, fucking around with said current - nor all the rocks in it - and Balthier realizes as he narrowly avoids slamming headfirst into something very solid, that he is now quite stuck, being hurdled effortlessly by the river.

Damnit.

This is going to give him such a headache, he can just tell.

[identity profile] ofminastirith.livejournal.com 2011-05-31 08:46 am (UTC)(link)
Boromir has barely had time to put his sword down during the whole ordeal, and keeps it unsheathed in case there's another onslaught (but then again, these things are tactically different when you're mounted as opposed to on foot). But he is more relaxed, and stands with his sword in both hands, the point directed towards the ground like so many statues are posed.

"As well as can be expected. Although if you know anywhere to get a drink of water, or bite of bread, then I would be glad. Normally I would keep my own supplies but the attacks caught me by surprise. And, to be frank, I didn't expect the city to be so open to assault."

Then, because he figures this is as good a time as any for introductions, "My name is Boromir, and I am a Captain of Gondor."
rhinemaid: actress mia kirshner (a story about me and my life ♠)

[personal profile] rhinemaid 2011-05-31 08:52 am (UTC)(link)
Wait, what was that-

Ilde has twisted around and is in pursuit out of sheer curiosity before she even realizes what (who) it is she's following, but she forces herself forward faster when she recognizes Balthier. (By his rings, as it happens.) The river is the source of her power and with her fey magic all instinct and still new to her this is the only place where she's willing to deliberately take a risk on using it. He's going to be dragged out of her reach soon, so she twists in the water and makes a demand of it - it's a strain to pull against the current when she's only half-aware of what it is she's really doing, but for just long enough the water acquiesces to her and Balthier is thrust back against it, toward her, and she catches a hold of the back of his shirt first.

She shoves her face in Balthier's long enough that if he has his eyes open at all, he'll see a very disapproving look, and then she gets a better grip on his shoulders and drives them toward the surface with her tail.
Edited 2011-05-31 08:53 (UTC)
suninhades: (Default)

[personal profile] suninhades 2011-05-31 09:01 am (UTC)(link)
The few straggling monkeys up on the rooftops are still hanging about, chattering indignantly in their direction - before she responds, Integra looks up and gives them a perturbed glance, and mentally takes stock of how much ammo she has left. Bloody obnoxious things. For now, she deigns them not worth it.

"Captain," she greets, and then takes advantage of the lull in activity to give her horse a bit of a break, and slides off. "Sir Integra Hellsing." It's a habit by now to leave off her formal titles, as hardly anyone (even Englishpeople! From Earth! Uneducated bastards..) recognizes her ranks. There's a brief, childish desire to rattle off all of them, lineage included, because how bloody grand would that be - but no, she doesn't do That Sort Of Thing. It's far too whimsical, for a knight.

She indicates over her shoulder, "I believe there's a tavern in shorter order that way. It'll be abandoned by now, but the way should be clear."

(If not, they're evidently quite capable of making it clear.)

[identity profile] ofminastirith.livejournal.com 2011-05-31 09:21 am (UTC)(link)
Boromir actually does (vaguely) recognize the title, although it's not one that's been used in Gondor for a long time since only their ruling monarch can perform a knighthood. And what's more, he recognizes her surname.

"I've heard the name Hellsing spoken many times today." It's said in an approving tone, because while he knows that they've been fighting in areas of the city that are badly under attack, he's still not entirely sure what it is or who they are.

He gestures for her to lead, since she knows the way, briefly scanning around for any more threats (not you, monkeys, piss off already).

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