A Shadowy Cabal (Mod Acct) (
synergismus) wrote in
multiversallogs2011-05-27 08:05 pm
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Entry tags:
- # operation: bio,
- @ brock marsh,
- @ mog hill,
- @ mog hill: valhalla inn,
- @ sobek croix,
- @ ~ gross tar river,
- alucard,
- anna demirovna,
- dean winchester,
- hellboy,
- ilde decima,
- integra hellsing,
- jones,
- marie-sixtine st. vincent,
- martel,
- rachel conway,
- raylan givens,
- sonja garin,
- { boromir,
- { nazca barsavi,
- } adrian veidt,
- } allen walker,
- } balthier,
- } cassandra of troy,
- } clark kent,
- } edward nigma,
- } gabriel gray,
- } ianto jones,
- } jo harvelle,
- } jysiri,
- } katherine pierce,
- } kriv scorpion-tongue,
- } lex luthor,
- } mabel albans,
- } max guevara,
- } michael anders,
- } mina barrett
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.
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.
no subject
He makes his way cautiously to the river's edge, not ready to fight but his sword isn't going away either.
"Who goes there?"
no subject
(She was terribly proud of herself for that one.)
So, peering up at him with a bloodied knife in hand, "Who wants to know?"
no subject
He's spent the past year in the company of Halfling, Dwarves, Elves and Maiar (although he doesn't know the last part, but Gandalf was old when his grandfather was young and so it wouldn't have surprised him). Before that he spent the better part of his life fighting the hordes of Mordor. And then he died. And he was brought here. Even today's events haven't felt that unusual in the grand scheme of his life.
Still, this is a different kind of -xenian? That's the word they use- than the ones that live in Middle Earth. And he is not easily surprised, so congratulations.
After a pause, he replies, "Boromir, son of Denethor."
no subject
She considers for a split-second, then says, "The birds don't like magic." She'd seen that, on her way here, so if he hasn't got any, he should probably avoid getting in a fight with them; some free advice, while she's here.
no subject
He looks around, quickly, to check for any oncoming assailants, before addressing Ilde once more. "Do you know if there is anyone to help the people of this city?"
no subject
no subject
He regards the being before him, unsure what the protocol is here. She's not an elf; there is probably not another creature like her in his world. He remembers the Halflings tales about their journey to Rivendell, of things he had only heard of in stories as a young boy. Finally, he settles on a slight bow and, "Thank you, river-daughter." Then turns to go.
no subject