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multiversallogs2011-05-27 08:05 pm
synergismus) wrote in multiversallogs2011-05-27 08:05 pm
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
"I cannot fathom what was meant to be right, if so," he remarks, and turns it over with his toe, meanwhile making a face at it.
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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.
no subject
"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."
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"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.
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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.
no subject
But then she hears the scream, and turns to see the group running out. She looks back at Balthier with a frown. She's not feeling sick this time and no one else seems to be either, so it's got to be for another reason.
"Now what the hell is going on?" she asks, not expecting an answer or waiting for one to come. She gets to her feet and starts running for the building.
no subject
"Something isn't right," he states, and while yes, that is quite obvious, thank you Balthier, it's worth mentioning, he feels. This is too many bizarre events in the span of five minutes to be a coincidence. Calling out: "Is anyone hurt in there?" He can see several people huddled in the back, still.
no subject
"I'm not so sure they can hear you," she says, her voice wavering in a manner totally uncharacteristic for her, because seriously, what the fuck. She clears her throat and calls out again anyway, just in case: "If anyone needs medical assistance, call out."
no subject
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.
no subject
The guy offers his name, and after a moment she glances up and him and nods, swallowing hard before speaking. "Max."
no subject
He's going in there? ... Seems that way.
no subject
"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?"
no subject
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?"
no subject
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He whirls about when it comes at him again, and neatly bisects the thing with his blade, but - instead of falling, the pieces of it, already blurry-edged, drift back and begin to twitch in mid-air, re-connecting.
"We may have a problem," he calls out to Max, staring.
no subject
Her eyes fall briefly on the group in the back that are now minus their faces, and a low, strangled sort of noise comes involuntarily from the back of her throat. For a moment, she thinks she's going to be sick again, but then she snaps out of it and focuses on Balthier.
"Get out of there," she says, her grip tightening on the rock again. "Now."