multiversallogs | The City at Large & Mission Alpha

Entry tags:

The City at Large & Mission Alpha

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.

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He'd held out some hope, until now, that there was some other explanation for her odd behavior. But this ends it. "I've come to take you someplace comfortable, and to make you something for your head."

"If you insist," she agrees, still looking through him. "I really don't feel at all well - that's why I'm walking, you see. If I keep going, I'll feel better."

Slim fingers pluck listlessly at his sleeve.

"Where are we going? It should be this way--" --and she takes another step on her path out of the city.

He puts a hand on her elbow. His tone in firm. "We are going somewhere where I shall help you to feel better. Come along."

He'd rather coax her along, but he'll use force if he has to.

She pauses then, and stares at his hand.

"No." A serious attempt is made to wrest her arm from his grip. "I need to go this way."

Although she is determined, her will is not her own and it's likely he could overpower her if he truly needed to.

He doesn't allow it. He's not violent, but he's firm, and larger than she is. "I am taking you somewhere safe, Narcissa, and believe me when I say I will carry you there if I must."

"No! Don't you see?" Her tone turns wheedling, the fingers on her free hand twisting into his shirt. "Lucius, I have to go this way... please?"

She gives him what would have been a pleading look, had her expression not been eerily vacant.

"No." He gives no flicker of emotion, no hint of the anguish he feels at seeing her this way. He wraps his free hand around her waist. "We will go the way I say we will go. That is what you must do."

"But-- no, I-- I have to--"

She struggles, briefly, her own instinctive desire to stay with him warring with the implanted urge to reach the fog. Suddenly, her expression clears, and her blue eyes are feverishly bright and aware as they meet his.

"Lucius? I don't feel well..."

And with that, Narcissa faints dead away.

That moment of awareness crushes him between hope and despair, but he scoops her up in his arms like she was Draco's size, and not a tall young woman. He starts for Sebastian's flat; it can be kept better warded, and it's closer than his own. He made a note to be more thorough with his own wards in the future, if he manages to survive this.

He told Hellsing he'd go back, but he's loathe to leave her. For now, though, he concentrates on getting her to safety.

Even unconscious, there's a part of her that recognises the arms around her, the scent that permeates the fog clouding her brain. The realisation isn't enough to drag her up from her faint, but it does provide some small measure of sub-conscious comfort.

Were she at all herself, she'd be embarrassed by the situation; as it is, she simply lolls in Lucius' arms, feet dangling and long blonde hair falling in her face.

It doesn't take him too long, blessedly, to get to Sebastian's flat and let himself in - he'd set up these wards himself, for which he breathed a small "thank Merlin."

Once he'd settled her on the bed, locked the door and reactivated the wards, he set about seeing what sort of supplies they had. Ideally, he'd lock her up and go back to his work... but he began to doubt that it would happen.

Something to keep her asleep might be good.

Slumped in the position he places her in, it's the unfamiliar scent and different texture of the sheets that permeate her unconscious state. A quiet whimper makes its way past slightly chapped lips - a condition she'd never normally allow - and Narcissa turns onto her side, curling up slightly.

Slim fingers clench and tug at the coverlet, her usually graceful hands tense, the knuckles white.

He comes back to her side shortly after the whimper; he's not found exactly what he wants yet, but he can't stop checking on her either.

After a moment, he fetches some water, to put in reach for when she wakes. She will wake.

And wake she does. Whatever impulse drove her to seek the fog forces her mind to claw its way to consciousness, and her lids tremble a little before lifting to display an unfocused gaze.

"...Lucius?" Narcissa's voice is weak, a hint of otherness still present in her tone. "Where are you?"

"I'm here." He takes one of her hands. "I'm right here. Do you want something for your head?"

"...yes," she whispers, fingers clutching his hand instinctively. "I need to leave, and I can't while my head aches so."

That strange desire to head for the fog still grips her, and she speaks like one under compulsion - which she is, though she doesn't know it.

He squeezes her hand, and then leans over to press a light kiss to her forehead. "I'll make you something. Just lie quiet for a bit, now."

"You have to hurry."

Her words are imploring as she relaxes back into the pillow. If he said he'll help, he'll help. Narcissa loosens her grip on his hand, knowing she'll soon be free of her aching head and able to make her way to the outskirts of the city with no obstacle.

He hates deceiving her, but it's the gentlest way he can think of to keep her in one place. His best hope now is that someone will find a cure, or a reliable way to reverse the effects, at least, and for that he needs to buy them time.

Le Mat's supplies are decent, and he manages to compose a suitable potion that will first take the edge off her headache but then send her into a deep sleep.

Struggling to a half-seated position, complete trust lights Narcissa's face as she reaches for the potion her spore-addled brain takes for assistance. The effects are felt quickly enough, her nose wrinkling in distaste as the liquid passes over her tongue, and it's mere moments for her brow to smooth as her headache recedes a little.

"Thank you."

Had it truly been a simple headache potion, she'd be sitting upright. As it is...

"I think-- I think I shall lie here... for a moment, before--"

He helps ease her back down. "Rest a moment. There's no great hurry." His tone is soothing, gentle.

"Oh, but there is!" Insistent, though punctuated with a yawn. "I simply must go, Lucius - it's imperative that I do... something..."

He smoothes her hair back from her face. "You'll do no one any good until your head hurts less. Don't fight the potion."

Bleary-eyed and still looking more than a little vacant, she still turns her cheek to his hand.

"Alright," she mutters. "But only because--"

The reason is lost as she succumbs to induced slumber, her wand hand twitching in an unconscious move to free her wand from her sleeve - the final attempt of the spores to exert some control over her.

Edited 2011-07-23 05:47 (UTC)

He watches her sleep, helpless to do more for her and deeply worried.

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pridegoesbefore.livejournal.com - 2011-07-23 05:49 (UTC) - Expand

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The City at Large & Mission Alpha

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permission to manhandle is completely granted.

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