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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At that, Narcissa takes a sudden step forward as she tries to think on her feet - this doesn't seem like the very best idea under the circumstances, but how to stop it without inciting Bellatrix's rage in her own direction? She doesn't fancy being choked by her own sister.

"There's chaos here already," she says, her hand around Bellatrix's wrist - not tight, not tense or anxious, a restraint but one she takes pains not to be sharp about. "If it is only the two of us, shouldn't we know with what we contend before we allow them to know us?"

Her form tenses visibly at the contact, head snapping aside (perhaps a little sharper than she'd intended) to regard her sister. As she speaks, though, her body slackens, albeit only slightly.

She cocks her head to one side, features softening into something almost sympathetic, which seems entirely too out of place.

"Do you honestly believe that anything - any of the trash that may reside in this place - have any hope of contending with us?"

Her fleeting expression in answer speaks all too clearly to her own arrogance; no, she doesn't, not really. She knows to second guess that impulse, to think before she acts, to remember that she does have to weigh risk when she thinks of gain, but her instinct isn't entirely unlike her sister's. She is a Black.

(And a Malfoy. If Lucius isn't here somewhere, she's going to kill him.)

"I believe we have better things to concern ourselves with than their attempts," she says, simply.

It seems answer enough to quell any suspicion arisen over her resistance, though there hadn't been much. Bellatrix lowers her wand, in time, and lifts her left arm in its place.

"I suppose I can employ less celebratory means, if it worries you. You still have so much to learn."

And such is the source of her sympathy before, alas. She tugs at the ragged sleeve of her dress, the Dark Mark (still burning black with evidence of recent use) easing into view.

Aware that she's being humoured, Narcissa's willing to accept it under the circumstances and she smiles, faintly, as Bellatrix alters her goal. Discretion has always been more her style - it's inconvenience and mess that she worries about, ultimately, not her sister's capabilities - and to be frank she's slightly more concerned by the notion of Bellatrix tending to her education. That seems like a statement that bodes, and to what can be nothing good.

"Young as you said," she says, one hand on her hip as she glances around the street they're standing on, the cape of her dress billowing over her elbow. Her gaze is dragged back to the Mark, for a moment, but even now it's too familiar to much shock her. She's seen it often enough on her husband's arm, too. "I rather think all this wretchedness speaks poorly of whatever leadership is claimed here, besides..."

Oh, and Bellatrix will tend to her education - considering the source of her own, who better to teach? But there's a time and a place, even for Bellatrix, and right now other matters have taken precedence.

"The wretchedness, yes. We'll see to that in time. For now.." her tone itself speaks volumes of her distraction, but it's her expression that holds all of the weight. It's almost reverent, the way she gazes upon the Mark, even if it's only her own, even if it's not signifying anything greater - yet.

She presses her wand to it, suddenly. The searing pain that accompanies the action doesn't so much as register, but her eyes are already scanning the space around them, expectant.

There must be others - and they would be insane, to do anything but come.

Lucius can only think, through the sharp, familiar pain - today of all days. But he's in no position to ignore it, no matter who is calling. (At best, Rodolphus is in trouble, but he somehow doesn't think so - his mark is gone, isn't it?)

He makes sure Narcissa is sedated and locked up tight, against her own illness and any outsiders. Praying to Merlin that leaving her isn't a mistake, he goes outside and apparates, ready for nearly anything.

His wife and his sister-and-law, though, are in that inch of "nearly."

On the one hand, Bellatrix and Lucius here with only the buffer of her seems potentially dangerous; on the other hand, if there is only the three of them, thank Merlin it's him. Besides, it's distracting, having to worry about him when she isn't sure where he is - it's much better just to know and be able to see that he's all right and focus on what's actually going wrong.

Which seems to be 'everything around them', come to that.

"Lucius!"

Bellatrix stays as she is for a long while, wand still burning into the mark at her arm. She doesn't actually move until Narcissa cries out - but she hadn't needed it, to know who'd answered her call. While her own sister had been too jarring, in her younger years, for her to acknowledge as such, Lucius Malfoy was one of those poor unfortunate souls that stuck out in Bellatrix's mind, that she'd never cease to recall for how very little she appreciated him.

That was putting it lightly. Wand lowered, she stays quiet for some time, simply regarding the two of them - silently hoping that someone else might show themselves - but they don't, and she'll just have to make do, won't she.

"This must be a joke."

...nobody said she'd be doing it politely.

His reaction is to Narcissa first - something that looks like relief and fierce joy. He doesn't have to ask to know she's his, and she's safe, eyes clear. "Oh thank Merlin."

He looked at Bellatrix, without much more love lost than she had for him. (He hid it better.) "Your husband is here, somewhere." Instead of explaining why he might not have felt the Mark, he adds, "He might be incapacitated for the moment - we're in the middle of a bit of a crisis."

He would let Rodolphus field that himself.

Well. All things considered, given the pair of them, that's damned near to civil and Narcissa, philosophically, refrains from getting herself in the midst of that straight away. They've got more important things to do than get sidetracked into bickering that might result in someone getting hexed.

"I knew you couldn't be far away," she says to Lucius, instead, holding her hands out to him. "What the devil is going on in this city? I saw- I don't quite know precisely what I saw, Lucius."

"If he were here, he'd be here." There's an unspoken he knows better there, somewhere, but... it needn't really be said. She doesn't look particularly agitated by the news of his presence (or lack thereof, as it stands); it's what it is and nothing more.

Far from favouring the happy reunion that's at risk of playing out before her, Bellatrix keeps her eyes trained on Lucius. Her sister's put forth a valid query, after all, and she's just as curious as to the answer - and aware of the fact that she's the more likely of them to get an honest one.

He takes one of Narcissa's hands and squeezes it. "We should get off the streets. One component is a contagion, and as there's no cure yet, it wouldn't do for any of us to be infected."

Bellatrix is spared much in the way of demonstrative affection, partly because of the seriousness of everything else and partly because Narcissa simply isn't the type; she clasps her husband's hand, thumb against his knuckles, and leaves it at that. "I hope you've some idea of where, then," she says, a bit tartly, as she glances back behind her. "But what are the other components, if this is only one?"

Bellatrix is glad for the restraint, though it doesn't show in her expression. More than anything, she's beginning to look impatient. Lucius's response - however valid - doesn't address any of her personal concerns, which, as always, makes it irrelevant to her.

"There is much to discuss, beyond this chaos." Her free hand drifts across her robes, over the weight of the mask still hidden within them, and something else, something far more important. "Be quick with it, if you intend to lead us elsewhere."

"I've a flat," he says, "not far. It's barely acceptable, but it's warded, at least." What had done for him alone doubtless wouldn't do for Narcissa in time, but that could be dealt with later.

"Follow me." They couldn't risk apparating when neither woman knew where they were going, so he walked briskly, clearly not relishing being out on the street. "I'll explain more once we're there."

Habit makes falling in step with Lucius easy and so she does, keeping a hold of his hand as they go. The flat will have to suffice as far as getting out of the chaos long enough to get an explanation, if he's not going to cough it up immediately; at least it isn't going to be a long walk.

They're beginning to make a new habit of showing up weeks apart in these bizarre situations. Narcissa doesn't much care for it.

"That's hardly a surprise, coming from you." It's not in her not to comment. She strides behind them - saunters, really, in that unbalanced way of hers, not intentionally giving them space, but the few straggling ants in their path tempt her so, and they're an easy outlet for her irritation.

...irritation that abruptly subsides in a pitched fit of giggles as one of the ants, limbs working desperately, skitters right on ahead of them before standing upright, moving in some disconnected mockery of a human gait.

"These are the creatures causing such trouble?

"Not individually. But there are many of them." He keeps his pace quick, trusting Bellatrix will keep up. (Or not.) "We suspect they may have some sort of collective sentience."

"Are they spreading this contagion of yours?" Narcissa asks, glancing briefly between Bellatrix, Lucius and the helpless creature at the end of her sister's spell - her free hand is at her mouth, still, wary, but now it's half-hiding amusement that's a fainter echo of Bellatrix's laughter behind them. Well. It's a little funny.

"We think so." Nothing had been confirmed yet, but it seemed very likely. "Spores, we suspect. Groups of them have taken over certain structures - they're building something as well."

Well, then, Bellatrix is all but doing a public service. (This is the sort of interesting perspective that perhaps you have to be a Black to have.)

"What's being done about it? What are you doing here, for that matter?" The latter is frankly of more immediate concern to her, but if they're stuck here (again-) then she'd like to know a bit more about the structure of the place.

"I came much the same as the other time, though this is... marginally better." In some ways, at least. "You remember Hellsing? They're here as well, and I've continued cultivating those connections. I was helping set wards against the things."

Bellatrix is blessedly silent for once, aside from the occasional hiss of a curse to aid in said public service. She hasn't fallen far behind, though, and that means she's still listening, which is - well. In some ways it's almost worse. She has her questions, but she'll save them for when they're someplace more private, away from the milling populace that serve as little more than the insects themselves, in her eyes.

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The City at Large & Mission Alpha

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