The City at Large & Mission Alpha

[baedalites.livejournal.com]

Who: OPEN to all residents.
What: The ant-situation is changing!
Where: Throughout the city.
When: NOW. This thread will likely cover a few days.
Warnings: To be updated.

Dear Mission Alpha,

It is your undeniable privilege to bring back as many of the so-called 'crow pearls' as possible to the Temple. Any temple. No one important cares how you do it, just get it done. Try to be substantial about it, let's say more than 50, hmm? The actual task here is to deprive our deranged ant-friends of as many pearls as possible, but no one is going to be rewarded for stories like 'oh we absolutely threw two tons of pearls down the whirlpool, we swear on our broodmother's grave', okay? Okay. Peachy. Bring me the pearls, chop chop.

Your totally sweet gods have decided to lend you some ...boons I guess, however that goes, to aid you in your quest. Useful objects. For you, my gifted pilferers and negotiators:

A Skeleton Key - it will open any unwarded lock. It will not open warded locks. That means magical locks. No magical locks will be opened with this key. Unless the magic is broken first. Good luck with that.

Get-Out-of-Jail-Free Card - I realize no one has bothered to build proper jail cells in Our City yet so it's more of a Fend-off-The-Local-Authorities-Free Card but that's not as catchy. Think of it as An Official Voucher From the Gods that says you're on Official Twelve Point Business and can't be arrested right now. Keep it for the Sheriffs as it might not have the desired effect the Militia.

Privacy Ward or App For Your CiD - Well you don't want to get caught leaking signals and communication everywhere, do you.

It is a week and some change after the ants first noticeably began their labour and it seems they have finished rebuilding their houses. It's hard to see exactly what is going on from the ground, but the brave few who have ventured into and up the hives or climbed neighbouring buildings get a good enough view. The rooftops are now crowned with organic spires, much like malformed and undernourished termite nests reaching for the heavens. They are not the best constructs, some of them have broken off or imploded, but the majority of the spires stand.

Then one morning, individual ants are seen climbing to the very top of their towers. They then sit still, mandibles locked and antennae arched. It's hours before any change becomes noticeable, and by then it's too late. The ants have sprouted strange fleshy fungal tentacles, all filled to the bursting with spores.

Soon there after, reports come in from all across the city about people acting out of character; some have become catatonic or violent after brief a period of sickness. Individuals have been seen entering the ant-occupied buildings to help defend the ants against intruders, others have attempted to climb high points in the city or thrown themselves in the rivers.

Once again the City is under siege, but this time the enemy is invisible.

Comments

[Location: Various throughout the city]

[ironshodboots]

Nazca hadn't been involved in any direct theft of any size in a long, long time. Her father had made sure she had the fundamentals of course, but more useful skills came from the outings in which she'd demanded Locke take her along. Sometimes they went with Jean, but more often without, and despite the danger facing Baedal, a part of her is delighted to find her old skills aren't failing her.

The hardest part is finding the pearls to take. But she's better for having something to do.

And she is fiercely trying to ignore the dream she had and what it meant. That would do her no good, and a mission from the gods was the priority.

[im_apimp]

As of right now, Alec had two concerns. One, tracking down pearls, because this? This he was good at, and two, he really hoped he got to keep the cool toys that came with this one. A skeleton key was like a thief's wet dream, and add on to the fact that this came with immunity and a little bit of cloak and dagger? Alec could almost say that he was in Heaven.

Almost.

Pearls were still hard to find, and people still didn't take too well to people breaking into their homes. It's days like this that Alec was grateful that he still had his X5 bonus features. It came in handy when you were forced to jump out a two story window to get away from an angry local with magic skills.

Which, to that point, this would be Alec, landing rather gracefully in front of Nazca, and flashing her a smile, before reaching for her wrist. "Might want to get out from under the window."

[ironshodboots]

She reacted before she thought, getting out of the way as he suggested and also yanking her hand away. "I suppose there's nothing worthwhile in there now, then," she observes, annoyed.

There was a blast of magic out of the window, and she jumped despite herself.

[Location: Near the Valhalla Inn]

[cassie_of_troy]

Cassandra was looking for something, but she couldn't remember what. Before, it had been a word. Vaguely, some small part of her mind told her that she had found her word and didn't need to look for it anymore. The bigger question, it seemed, was what she was looking for now. She remembered something...something about a dream. But dreams were so complicated and so ephemeral, and she wanted something else, something she could hold in her hand.

There was a word for that, wasn't there?

Yes, there was. It started with a sound. A sort of clicking sound. Like the word Titan or the word terror. She tried out the sound in her mouth a few times. The word was lost to her, but the sound...it felt right somehow. She clicked a few more times, smiling. Her chapped lips broke and bled, but she didn't seem to notice it.

She continued wandering, her white dress sticking to her back with perspiration. There was a lot of noise around her, but she couldn't seem to understand it. Oh well, just as well, she supposed. No one really understood her anyway.

[truthsandlyres]

He'd been by the docks when he'd received her incomprehensible message. Hurrying to her had been his immediate reaction, but hurrying had been difficult. The city was chaotic, no one knew what was going on and everyone had someone they were trying to get to, it seemed.

He heard talk as he pushed through the crowds, heard mentions of people who had suddenly stopped making sense. Heard talk of a sickness that was driving people insane.

Cassandra's mental health was under question enough as it was. Panic set in and he began calling her name. He'd entered the inn, knocked on her door and finally just opened it. No one there. When he ran back outside, there was a measure of desperation to the god as he continued yelling for her, grabbing several brunettes by the shoulders and turning them to face him.

He stopped, turning in a circle. Where was she going? A walk? She was going to get herself killed. "Swan!" he finally cried in a desperate attempt.

[cassie_of_troy]

Cassandra heard someone shouting the word 'swan.' Her first instinct, immediately, was to look up in the sky for a magnificent white bird, soaring above her head. But there was nothing there. Well, there were things there. Smoke and clouds and the tops of buildings that were really taller than any building had any business being. But no swans. She felt vaguely disappointed as she lowered her eyes. Swans were important somehow. She seemed to remember a goddess driving a carriage drawn by swans. Which was really quite a ridiculous notion.

She giggled a little, shaking her head. It was full of similarly ridiculous thoughts. She remembered a swan coupling with a beautiful woman. That was absurd too. Was there a single, serious thought left in her addled brain?

A frown marred her face as she considered that question. The frown wasn't for the question. It was really the fact that she couldn't seem to come up with an answer. For an instant or two, that was devastating. But then that feeling faded away.

She started walking again. For some reason, she felt it would be interesting to walk into the fog.

[For Narcissa]

[byrightsinhell]

Le Mat had given him a rough location, and Lucius had alerted Hellsing that he would be away from his post. Now he was hunting for her, alert and wand ready, and praying he could get her to safety before becoming infected himself.

Now and then he calls her name, and wishes she was wearing the twin of his wedding ring, which might make her a bit quicker to locate.

[For Narcissa]

[pridegoesbefore.livejournal.com]

Wandering through the city with too much purpose to be considered aimless but lacking any real speed, hands bare of all ornamentation, traceable or otherwise, Narcissa is headed for the fog. Skull ringing with a dull ache, she fancies she can hear someone calling her name...

"I have a headache, stop shouting!"

The hypocrisy evidenced by her own volume is overlooked, urged on as she is by the externally planted desire to reach the outskirts of the city.

[For Narcissa]

[byrightsinhell]

Her voice is enough, and he's not quite running, but he's moving quickly when he appears from around a corner. "Narcissa." His tone is mingled relief and concern, and he doesn't try to hide either. "I know, I'm sorry."

[Location: A Temple]

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

Eddie has been plugging away at decrypting the list he and Mike found in one of the ant houses. It's exactly the sort of thing he can really throw himself into. The usefulness of the results really isn't important to him. It's enough that this is a good challenge and he can do this.

However, as events unfold, and he and everyone else sees what's happening in the city - and he hears all about the reports coming in, at the newspaper offices - it sinks in that he was in one of these ant houses and the ants are filling the whole city with fungus and... oh god. No, he won't be having anything to do with that, thank you very much.

He was very eager to get himself hidden away in the nearest temple he could reach, and is not about to leave safety, not to help out some gods, not to help out his cohort, not for anything. He has already had his brush with things growing in his brain that weren't supposed to be there, and that was plenty enough.

It wouldn't do to sit around acting terrified, though. He squishes that right down, and is instead simply a ball of nervous energy, set on planning and constructing defenses that may or may not be superfluous. They'll need to keep the ants as far back as possible. The uninfected will need a safe path, and hey, it's another challenge to tackle, and a very, very welcome distraction from what's actually going on.

At the moment, he is sitting with his back against a corner, going over the writing in one notebook and drafting something else out on a pad of graph paper. The pen scratches along the paper at a manic pace, and he is oblivious to anything going on past the upper edge of the page.

[aintwoundright.livejournal.com]

One bag of pearls dropped off. Gabriel is on his way out to see if he can gather more when the sound of a pen dragging over paper catches his attention. The sound is coming from a man seated with his back to a corner--it's a good tactical position, no one can sneak up on him, Gabriel has used it himself in the past--

He shakes his head. He's not thinking about that past anymore. He's not that man anymore.

But someone working furiously is a remarkable change from everything else going on in here. Gabriel's idle curiosity makes him drift closer. He stands there a moment until he realizes the other man is so engrossed in what he's doing he doesn't realize Gabriel is standing there.

He clears his throat. "Hi. What are you working on?"

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

Eddie picked the corner without a second thought, for that reason, regardless of necessity. He wanted to focus on the page, not on his surroundings. When Gabriel walks up, he doesn't seem to notice, but keeps on writing, until the other man speaks.

He doesn't startle, but looks up and is quiet for a moment, switching gears. That's when he smiles. "Hi," he says, with a sort of tired but still not forced cheerfulness. "We need to improve the outer perimeter if people are going to be able to get to the temple. Yeah?" He holds up several pages of neat little graph paper diagrams, in pen.

Considering the best materials available to him right now are pen and paper, there is a good amount of wishful thinking in here, as far as feasibility goes, but those ideas are marked by speech bubbles connected to stick-figure cartoon ants saying stuff like "NOT GONNA WORK! DRAT!"

However, there are actually good, useable ideas with available materials, and for some reason, the start of what looks like a word search, or some such thing.

[Location: Sobek Croix]

[heardmermaids.livejournal.com]

Just beyond the edges of the Hellsing wards, Sebastian can be found beside a horse and cart, checking both over to make sure they're up to whatever task comes their way. He knows the harness and tackle are in good condition and while he's generally unfamiliar with horsemanship, the basics shouldn't be too different from thestrals, right?

In any event, after he's sent out his coordinates Deucalion will probably find him checking to make sure the cart itself is sturdy and able to travel well over what might become rough road.

[spawnofgod.livejournal.com]

Throughout his years, especially in his earlier ones, Deucalion had learned the basics of horsemanship. Solo riding. While in the Arctic, he became experienced with steering dog sleds, his experience with horse-drawn carts is unfamiliar.

Regardless, he is willing to help in whatever ways he can.

Deucalion wastes no times once he's given the location. Merely moments after the connection is terminated, he appears behind Sebastian.

"Hello."

[heardmermaids.livejournal.com]

It's fair to say that Sebastian does not react well to being surprised. As Deucalion appears and startles him, he drops to a crouch and there's a sudden, almost electric hum in the air that dissipates just as quickly as it formed. Despite the shock, he doesn't cry out.

"Hello. Sorry about that," he says, watching his tone very carefully, and staying low to the ground as Velcro comes over.

( location: the valhalla ) ( for bellatrix )

[vanities]

A city in chaos doesn't make for the warmest of welcomes, and Narcissa discards the idea of bothering with the CiD for now; she knows how it works, at least, but from what she hears outside the walls of the Valhalla, now is not the-

Wait.

In the act of tucking the CiD away in her purse, wand in her hand in its place, she stops by a window and listens, straining, for the voice she thought she heard a moment before. There- yes- someone else's hand prevents her opening the window and she takes a sharp step backwards, driving her heel into his foot and her wand up under his chin.

"Oh, sir. Do excuse me."

That was Bellatrix out there.

( location: the valhalla )

[wealone.livejournal.com]

Bellatrix it is, and she sounds anything but happy. From whatever she's doing (felling the occasional meandering citizen or insect - hopefully none that aren't infected, but who really knows - here and there, it seems to be primarily ants, left twitching and writhing in her wake), it doesn't seem that she's known freedom far longer than Narcissa.

Her own CiD has long been tucked away; under normal circumstances, she'd have left it behind, but of late she's been learning that even the most insignificant of objects can hold some value. Still, her wand (not her wand, but one she's earned regardless, even if it's not quite the same) has taken immediate precedence, and if nothing else pleases her, the fact that it seems to be in working order is serving as a welcome treat.

A path laid out before her, now, Bellatrix finally stops to take in her surroundings. Her appearance is a bit wild (when isn't it, any more), and she looks far more like a threatened animal than anyone really should when there's no real violence to be perceived - this is one of those Rare Moments in which she's actually contemplating her next move.

( location: outside the valhalla )

[vanities]

Following the trail of destruction and picking her way through it, Narcissa becomes increasingly certain that it was her sister she heard outside before she manages to catch up to her. Some things don't change...and some, by the unfamiliar age that doesn't appear to have made her sister any less unrelenting, do.

"Bella," she calls, lowering her wand and stepping primly around the body of one of those poor infected souls (her free hand is half over her mouth and nose, still, unsure of the spread of infection and wary even as she's not willing to sit and wait and see) toward her. "Bellatrix?"

[text | locked to Lucius, Integra, & Nuala]

[heardmermaids.livejournal.com]

I fear I may be unwell.

I've a screaming headache unlike anything I've had in years.

I'll keep you up to date if anything changes.

( text | locked to Lucius, Integra, & Nuala )

[cailisairgid]

Be watchful of your symptoms, and get yourself to safety if you fall ill.

[text | locked to Sebastian]

[byrightsinhell]

Do you fear you're infected?

[text | locked to Sebastian]

[heardmermaids.livejournal.com]

I do. The headache was sudden and sharp. It's fading out now, but it wasn't natural.

The Old Spice Guys

[captaincocksure]

[Continues from here.]

Jim considers this. "'Necessary force.' Yeah. I can do that."

He makes sure he's got a good grip on Martel--it's a manly grip, the kind men use when they don't want their ass to fall off a warhorse, that's all.

"Show me where and I'll do it. I'll cover you while you bring the thing down."

[apostatised]

"Good man." The nearest hive isn't that far away, and Martel's inclined to ride hard - but navigating the streets without actually riding down civilians (at this proximity, Jim can probably feel the momentary hesitation when he nearly does it anyway) requires enough finesse that he's not making the pace he'd prefer.

Almost as an afterthought, taking a corner and jerking Kalten away from oncoming pedestrians, "Martel of Damerel, by the by. Lord Margrave, but who's counting here-"

At this point, Jim's grip is a very good thing as Martel's weight shifts and then Kalten jumps someone's rudimentary blockade.

[captaincocksure]

He's impressed with the horse handling; he's got enough experience to recognize what's happening, the control, the choices being made. (And just enough to know he couldn't do it with such skill, but shhh.)

"Good to meet you, Martel," he replies, loud enough to be heard over the din of their surroundings, the movement around them. "You can call me Jim."

He feels Martel move, realizes he's readjusting his balance for--there it is. Jim shifts too, holding himself up through the jump. "Nicely done. So what do we gain by you bringing one of these things down?"