A Shadowy Cabal (Mod Acct) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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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.
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"As for Kentucky, I'm afraid I've never had the pleasure. The farthest south I've ever been in your country was South Carolina." She wondered, vaguely, if Jamaica counted. After all, when she had last been there, the entire bloody area had been part of the same country, technically. That country had just been jolly old England.
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Mina took some surgical tape out of her bag. She tucked her necklace back under her collar, then started to rip strips of tape. "Are there flying cars?" she asked, teasingly. "Writers always dreamed of that sort of thing. Flying cars. Men from Mars. Trips to the moon." She paused, smiling slightly. "Jules Verne. Brilliant man."
As she recalled, Joseph Brown had introduced her to Jules Verne.
"There must be something more to report about the future, other than the booze."
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With a shrug, he adds, "It's just normal, for me. I don't know what the interesting parts are."
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She might have, if she had remained at home. But there was really no point in lamenting over what might have been.
That went for so many things.
"When I was a young girl, I used to believe that the moonlight would make me beautiful. I would leave the window of my bedroom open to let the moonlight hit me while I slept." She shook her head. "It never made me beautiful, but at least it never made me a werewolf." She laughed. "Do your people in the future still believe in silly things like that?"
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"Well, Marshal," she said, stepping back. "I think you'll live to trip the light fandago again."
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"So what's going on, out there?"
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She couldn't help but feel some disdain. Either there was a Masquerade or there wasn't. And if there wasn't, it seemed like information sharing was probably a good idea.
Not that she was ungrateful for the medical supplies.
"I'm afraid I haven't been in the thick of it. I've been busy patching up injuries."
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Neatly, she started organizing her bag again. "Quite the situation we're in, isn't it? People from ancient Greece, people from the future, all of us trapped here. And apparently under attack. It makes you wonder if there's some kind of higher purpose to it all."
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She sat on the foot of his bed, looking at him. "I know of some people who have already started. Their first step was to visit the temple of the local gods. They didn't find much."
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"I saw the boat trip too. So far, no luck there."
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Well, she was hardly the world police.
"So what's the next plan of attack?" she asked. "If the waterways are not an options...over land? By magical means, perhaps?"
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It might be fun being worshiped, Mina thought. For a little while, anyway. But she suspected it would get old quickly. Still...the attention would be nice.
"Well, this is all talk until you're recovered, isn't it?"
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"Thanks, for taking a look."
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Men.
"Of course," she said. "I'm only too happy to help. After all, it seems we worldwalkers need to stick together."
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"Get some rest. And remember to reapply that salve. It'll do wonders for you, I promise."
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