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.
tothelastbreath: (count me out)

[personal profile] tothelastbreath 2011-06-02 05:17 am (UTC)(link)
Barring the crows' involvement and all those heavy implications his cursed eye can see looming over Alucard, everything about this moment is hitting Allen with a displaced sense of déjà vu. He has heard the same accusations before, hollered in voices that were very much human, and the one they were directed at did actually bite Allen after breathing on him much the same way. It was a tough battle, frightening at several points, but also a lesson that people aren't always what they seem.

...He rather thinks this principle may not apply to Alucard so well, and yet, the man hasn't harmed him yet. Has, in fact, been helping by getting rid of those crows, as questionable as his methods may appear to be. It's enough to make Allen suppress battle-honed instincts to strike, though it takes quite a bit of brutal effort, and all he does is whip around to face this new xenian (distressing how broad a term it's turning out to be). For a moment, he simply meets Alucard's eyes in a manner more searching than challenging ― his eyes, not whatever's sharing his body at the moment. Then confusion flickers in his expression at the question, sharp realisation lighting his eyes a bare second later, before they quickly cool in reservation.

"I wouldn't know, and I don't care what He thinks," It's spoken with the stubborn edge of someone who's invested very personally in this particular topic. "Not when I can think for myself."
rhinemaid: actress mia kirshner (i shine a little more lately ♠)

[personal profile] rhinemaid 2011-06-02 05:38 am (UTC)(link)
Ilde only thinks for a moment - impulse decisions are a bad habit of hers and she knows that, but it's the way she is and she directs herself more than she tries to fight it. "Yes," she decides. "You can follow the river."
rhinemaid: actress mia kirshner (petulant at the window-pane ♠)

[personal profile] rhinemaid 2011-06-02 05:46 am (UTC)(link)
"I like secrets- fair trade." That's mostly a joke - in that while she does very much like to know other people's secrets, she does not expect to be paid in them for fishing people out of the river. (Although it might make life more interesting if she took up lifeguarding for people she doesn't actually like very much-)

"Don't fall in the river again," she advises, pushing off the rock into the water - her feet are replaced with fins before she's all the way under, but she keeps diving and she's swiftly out of sight.
gotbottle: (hand to chest)

[personal profile] gotbottle 2011-06-02 05:47 am (UTC)(link)
"That'd make it like, way better, right?"

She smiles, but it fades as her gaze drifts back out over the street. "It is. But... it shouldn't be. Like--everyone should be able to be safe and bored if they want. They should have the choice. Not this."
suninhades: (no reflection here)

[personal profile] suninhades 2011-06-02 05:49 am (UTC)(link)
By the time Allen gets to her, Integra is smoking a cigarette, having already assessed the damage to her arm - there's an angry red mark under her sleeve from the crow's talons, but it didn't quite manage to break the skin. It's lucky she's wearing such heavy wool. (Deliberate, rather.) She wordlessly holds a plastic water bottle out to him when he's near enough, having pulled it out of one of her saddle bags a moment before.

"This isn't regular enough to be included anywhere," she says. "I've not heard of any similar infestation or attack happening before my time." Yes, terrible things happen, but the climate has always been creative. Whatever this is, it's new. She just gives him a look - one quirked eyebrow - at his inquiry after her. Sweet, but unnecessary. "You're a very skilled man, Mr. Walker."

[identity profile] birdofhermes.livejournal.com 2011-06-02 05:59 am (UTC)(link)
Soon his eyes are the only ones looking back at the younger man, and for all of the bloodlust still raging within them there's a tinge of amusement as well, twisted as it may be. It's mirrored in his grin, wide and almost taunting. There's no direct threat, but the monstrous fangs in themselves should be more than enough to put most on edge.

By now, Alucard has reformed wholly - right down to his rune-emblazoned gloves. Though everything about his expression suggests that he's still combat-ready, his posture denotes otherwise. He's almost lax, in fact, but that may just be the pieces settling back into place.

"Forsaken you one too many times?"

( Devil! Monst-- )

His gun is drawn and fired without so much as a cursory glance in the crows' direction, and the reassembling flock scatters for a second time.

"How delightful."

There's something strange about Allen, though Alucard can't pinpoint what. It only serves to fuel his curiosity - he can't help but wonder, from the feel of him, whether this is another of God's hands gone astray. Those are his favourites.

"Are you enjoying the spectacle?"

[identity profile] nojudge.livejournal.com 2011-06-02 06:08 am (UTC)(link)
Silence.

Comforting.

He glances over at the woman beside him. "I'm Balthier."

... A short moment, apparently on the precipice of something he's about to follow that up with.

[identity profile] aregulargirl.livejournal.com 2011-06-02 06:38 am (UTC)(link)
No one's answering, and Max's spine stiffens as she backs slowly away from the doorway. If the bird's still hungry, she doesn't want to be dessert.

The guy offers his name, and after a moment she glances up and him and nods, swallowing hard before speaking. "Max."
wandandsickle: (oh god what now)

Re: open

[personal profile] wandandsickle 2011-06-02 06:44 am (UTC)(link)
Jones turns a corner just in time to see a bunch of monkeys... dressed monkeys? swarm out of an armadillo and onto a... large, red guy with a sword.

Okay, well then. More things in heaven and earth, as they say, and she's pretty sure this place is neither. And there's no time to be wasting.

Her hands start moving in familiar patterns, shaping the spell—and it's simple, really. All she needs to do is rearrange some molecules. All the materials she needs are already here. Hydrogen, oxygen, all kinds of wonderfully flammable things. And the Obrimos think they have the monopoly on firepower, haha. "Here we go," she mutters, and lets the spell go with a snap of her fingers in the back of the crowd. There's a satisfying whoosh of sudden flame and a chorus of simian screams as several of them catch.

And then another four turn to look at her. Oops.

[identity profile] manipulativni.livejournal.com 2011-06-02 06:47 am (UTC)(link)
"Deal," Katherine agrees with a nod, then straightens and begins walking. She's less clean than she's like to be, her clothing and hair are still stained with blood, but she's sure she's not the only one with battle scars out on the streets right now, and better to blend in than be comfortable. Though she can't help but feel put out, anyway; she liked this top.

"Do you spend most of your time in water?" She's asking out of curiosity, mostly; their first conversation had taken place through CiD and she'd seen that she wasn't in the river then, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.
tothelastbreath: (that can't be right)

[personal profile] tothelastbreath 2011-06-02 07:00 am (UTC)(link)
Chosen him one too many times, actually. Allen's quite tired of being told what he is, or isn't, or is supposed to be; but that's a story for another day. The fangs, threatening as they may look, aren't what he's wary of. He's used to seeing those, albeit bared in smiles that were far more sincere, and this is exactly where the resemblance between Alucard and Crowley ends with a whole lot of finality. Regardless of whatever Alucard's body language may be telling him, Allen knows beyond a doubt this man, or whatever he chooses to call himself, is dangerous. For him, the evidence is smoking high enough to obscure the sun itself, even though no one else can see it ― just this shifting, pitch-black aura around Alucard's person, massive and absolute. Makes it difficult for him to focus on other aspects of the vampire's appearance, but he does, eyes going straight to the glowing pentagrams stitched on the man's gloves and boring into them. His hasty dash here has left his white bangs in disarray, and should Alucard take a closer look, he may notice a matching, pentagram-shaped scar on the boy's left brow.

At the sound of the gunshot, Allen raises his left arm a fraction, not enough to be threatening, but he's definitely on guard. Sunlight glints off the strangely metallic-looking claw in place of his left hand, making the white cross etched on its back gleam; and somewhere in the back of Allen's mind, a voice is telling him his master might have found this situation really bloody funny.

He's not entirely sure who thought that.

"I've never been a fan," Comes the clipped reply, and the way his voice's wound wire-tight says Alucard is slowly but systematically getting to his buttons. "Of God or demonstrations."
Edited 2011-06-02 07:04 (UTC)
indiscreet: so fine and so distant ((Vitae) - taste your beating heart)

[personal profile] indiscreet 2011-06-02 07:01 am (UTC)(link)
There is a flash and a crackle of ozone, and one of the monkeys collapses, its fur blackened: electrocuted.

Anna (or the Huntress, currently - whichever you please) smirks and forms another arrow, though this one doesn't strike quite as true, instead throwing the monkey she has targeted back several meters and stunning it for the moment. The body startles a third monkey, which thinks better of joining this particular fight and turns to flee.

And, once it does that, it has really doomed itself. Something seems to trigger in the woman, and with a burst of speed she falls upon the animal, and rips its throat out with her teeth.

The taste of blood on her tongue startles Anna back into herself, and she calls out to the strange red man:

"Can you toss them away from you? I can kill them easily enough, but I'm not confident that I can't hit you while I shoot at them."

[identity profile] nojudge.livejournal.com 2011-06-02 07:01 am (UTC)(link)
"Max." Allrightythen. Balthier takes out one of the guns he's carrying in belts slung across his hips, and hands it to her. It's not anything particularly Earth-specific, looking more like some kind of twisted hybrid of a flint-lock pistol and an automatic rifle. (Video games. It happens.) "If you would be so kind as to shoot that thing if it cuts me in half, I'd appreciate it."

He's going in there? ... Seems that way.

[identity profile] ofminastirith.livejournal.com 2011-06-02 07:13 am (UTC)(link)
Giant men of Gondor don't blush, it bears noting. And he still thinks he has a lot to do to make up for past indiscretions (which...makes no sense because he was like this before the Fellowship, but guilty consciences don't have much in the way of reason). "It would discredit them not to."

Ha ha, the answer is no. Boromir fishes it out of some fold in his clothing. "If I press this button, pictures appear." Shut up, that's impressive where he's from. "It does more than that?"

[identity profile] aregulargirl.livejournal.com 2011-06-02 07:16 am (UTC)(link)
Not an unreasonable request - at least, it wouldn't be for anyone else on the planet, especially one with a military background - but Max shakes her head, keeping her hands at her sides.

"I don't do guns," she says, her voice firm and unwavering on the subject - it's been a personal rule of hers since she was nine, she's not about to change it if she's not going to be forced to (arms training was the first thing they started her on during her attempt at reindoctrination at Manticore, she'd hit every target perfectly and then spent a solid hour getting sick once she got back to her cell). "What else you got?"

[identity profile] birdofhermes.livejournal.com 2011-06-02 07:17 am (UTC)(link)
"Yet you stopped to watch."

If Alucard's taking particular note of anything as far as Allen's appearance goes, he's not letting on. He's seen enough already, through his familiars' eyes, to ignore the tiny details - all but one.

By now his gaze has locked onto that cross, his grin ticking wider by the second.

"How contrary."

His next query proves surprisingly blunt in nature, and seemingly unrelated to the circumstances at hand.

"Are you a Catholic?"

His hunches aren't often wrong, but he'd like to be certain. Then again, it's not every day one meets a Catholic who's anything but a fan of his Father.
wandandsickle: (oh it's you)

[personal profile] wandandsickle 2011-06-02 07:19 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh, hi Anna," says Jones, a little weakly. "How's it going."

/LATCHES ONTO YOUR LOVE

[identity profile] yourwonderings.livejournal.com 2011-06-02 07:27 am (UTC)(link)
Jo's launched an arrow straight into the other crawler's chest, and she watches as it crumples to the ground, firing off another to be on the safe side. Soon enough, her attention is on Integra. She whirls around in place, and it doesn't take long for her to realize what's happened. She doesn't waste time with any further reaction, assessing what damage they've been left with, and once again charging forward near the other woman.

She sees the crawler twitch on the street, and flings another arrow its way before it can get back up again. Immediately afterward, she reaches for her own gun, taking aim as well. Jo blows away the rest that attempt an escape. She'll eventually run out of ammo, but she'll cross that bridge when she gets to it.

[identity profile] nojudge.livejournal.com 2011-06-02 07:41 am (UTC)(link)
In his head, all Balthier assumes is Oh, well, she must be a terrible shot, then, and thinks it's rather polite of her to decline. But alas, while he does have a sword strapped to his back, he's not particularly keen on letting anyone else touch the Masamune; katanas with the power to send building-sized monsters flying occasionally cause more problems than they solve them, when wielded by anything less than an expert. (Which he is.)

So he shrugs, re-holsters, and then gives Max a smile that's very c'est la vie. "The hope that you're very lucky, and wish me some."

And thus Balthier turns and heads inside, sliding his sword out of the sheath on his back as he does so, heading with cautious determination towards the unnaturally huge crow. Once he's in the foyer, he can tell that it's not just the shadows making it hard to discern. The thing isn't solid. Half to himself: "A mist creature?"
tothelastbreath: (to keep you honest)

[personal profile] tothelastbreath 2011-06-02 07:53 am (UTC)(link)
So unrelated, in fact, that Allen looks momentarily non-plussed, feeling like the last few seconds of his life were just snipped from the reel. Is he a Catholic? Er, good one. Allen hasn't considered that question since... Well.

Since.

Now that it's been brought to his attention, though, the truth is he doesn't quite know, simply because it's never mattered enough to him to have a concrete 'yes' or 'no'. Allen may have some rather vocal opinions about God, but he doesn't doubt He exists, and working for the Vatican does mean he's Catholic by default. Does that technically still apply now that his official status is 'excommunicated', and does he even care either way? No and no. Yet here he is, still carrying a bit of God's will in his left hand, still an Exorcist to the marrow even though the title's been stripped from him.

In the end, very much aware that it's a loaded question, he again forgoes black and white in favour of the shades in between, with a wary, "Of sorts."

Sadly, that sums up everything about Allen Walker pretty well.
suninhades: (Default)

[personal profile] suninhades 2011-06-02 07:57 am (UTC)(link)
In return, it's worth it to point out that Hellsings - even the relatively sane ones - have no shame for their coldness, but when Boromir remarks about pictures appearing, Integra has the thought, Oh, I should have told him about the refrigerator.

"It's a communication device," she tells him, and if he'll let her, she'll show him how to operate it. "A very tiny machine - people made little clockwork bits smaller and smaller until they became absurd like this."

... History of the world, with Professor Integra. She demonstrates how to pull up the map of the city, and find the cohort network. (Doing it all wearing her gloves, still, with the sort of easy dexterity that suggests she all but lives in them.) "You can use it to address your peers if there's an emergency, or speak to a single person."
suninhades: (we'll have each other)

<333

[personal profile] suninhades 2011-06-02 08:25 am (UTC)(link)
And so there they are, victorious, pile of dead monkeys between them. (Thrilling.) Integra, still on her horse, gives Jo an unreadable look; maybe searching, maybe appraising. She recognizes her at once, not from some other world, but by simple virtue of the fact that Dean attended her broadcast from the arrival room. While she doesn't use the cohort network overmuch in general, she makes a habit of taking the time to scan it periodically during times of crisis, in the interests of communication.

She scans for other signs or sounds of movement - irritable, singed and blood-covered, but still put together, Integra takes her cue from her horse and figures it's all clear in this moment. "What gauge does that take?" ... Someone else might have asked Jo if she was okay.
Edited 2011-06-02 08:46 (UTC)

[identity profile] ofminastirith.livejournal.com 2011-06-02 08:36 am (UTC)(link)
At least they do have clockwork where he's from. And it doesn't sound in the least bit crazy -look, long ago someone managed to trap the light from two trees into three jewels, and even though it was thousands of years ago, he has since met close relations of the elves involved.

He watches her fingers move, the pictures changing on the screen. "It's more efficient than our methods," he says, thoroughly amused with the device. Boys and their toys. "Does this mean other people can contact me?"

<333! :3

[identity profile] yourwonderings.livejournal.com 2011-06-02 08:51 am (UTC)(link)
Jo gazes up at Integra, a steely sort of determination in her gaze that isn't aimed at Integra so much as the situation itself. She may not have had good timing, arriving right when she did, but like hell she'd have stayed at the Inn. A sitting duck instead of being in the fray along with everyone else? No thank you. "Anythin' will do with this beauty, it's old," she replies, not really missing a beat.

"Thanks for earlier," she says to Integra, wiping at the torn sleeve of her shirt. Ironically, the wound is from prior to arriving at Baedal. Other than that, she looks no worse for wear. Jo's eyes take in their surroundings, sharply, alert; deciding the coast is clear for now, she turns back to the other woman. "Name's Jo Harvelle."

Dean and Jo

[identity profile] yourwonderings.livejournal.com 2011-06-02 09:05 am (UTC)(link)
Jo has perfect timing. Not really.

She's only recently arrived in Baedal, and she's already looking to be in the middle of things. It helps that it'd require hunting skills, since that's what she's been developing for the past year or so. It's what she's been gearing herself up for her whole life.

Because everything has literally hit the fan, there's no time for real greetings. She tells Dean she's in the city, he briefly gives her the rundown, and they agree to meet so she can be back-up.

An hour later, she's meeting Dean in the nearest train station as promised.

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