multiversallogs | Mission Beta

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Mission Beta

Who: List forthcoming.
What: Going to get a queen ant!
Where: ...in a hive.
When: NOW. This thread will likely cover a few days.
Notes: The basket contains a blanket and fresh and perfectly edible stuff; sandwiches, a stack of wrapped pancakes, syrup, sugar cubes, random assortment of sweet candy, two bottles of sweet blue lemonade.
Warnings: To be updated.

Dear Beta Mission,

So. Large social arthropods and we are going after their queen. We got all of those houses checked and the royalty was in another castle every time. Leaves us (or rather you) with only one option: GOING UNDERGROUND. Thousands of people have done it before you so it should be simple enough! But just in case and just because you are so very dear to our hearts, your gods have decided to grant you some simple boons to help you on your way. You will get:

Glow Sticks - Do you folks like chemiluminescence? Well now you can have 200 sticks of single use biodegradable tubes worth of it! Break it and shake it, it will light up any deep dark tunnel of your choice.

A Magical Compass - Actually I don't know if it's magical or just really scientific but when you're lost somewhere deep underground and you want to know the way out it really doesn't matter does it? What you do is you tell it where you want to go, and it points in that direction. Talk about useful.

A Crate With a Tarp - The very latest in ant queen kidnapping technology!

A Picnic Basket - Well you are out hunting ants, aren't you.

It's hard but not that hard to track the ants down to their original brooding nest. Keen tracking skills or magic should do it. The best entrance lies inside the old subterranean Karsten and Pierce's Mushroom Farm just outside the City. The ants in this nest do not appear to be afflicted by the illness of their sisters on the surface.

It's perfectly dark down in these tunnels, and it smells of mold and formic acid. It's also quiet, or would be if it wasn't for the constant scratching and static tittering of worker ants milling up and down with food and building materials in their mandibles. Much like the ants in the houses, they will not mind intruders as long as the intruders are on their best behaviour. The queen is likely to be in the brooding chamber, surrounded by eggs (some of which may be queen eggs) and workers. She's also likely to be huge and ill disposed to being moved.

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Hellboy tends to keep everything he needs for the job on him at all times, so it doesn't take him long from the moment he got the message from Ceith to get to the temple. He collects his team's boons and makes himself as visible as ever somewhere that the rest of his team can gather. Come and meet the huge red demon-man, everyone.

No, she doesn't want to do this. There are a ton of other things Cindy can think of doing other than teaming up with the rest of this place and doing what Ceith asked for. But the reward, while small and probably insignificant is something she could use. After all, it's better to send a letter to Bigby to rip apart than have him rip her apart.

But Cindy walks up towards the temple anyway, dressed in a tight black catsuit, black gloves, and a gun strapped to her thigh. That's all she needs. Sure, this blows her cover story right out of the water, but if she plays this letter card right, she won't be here for much longer for people to care.

"Hellboy." She heard the transmission and the guy she's now standing in front of is red. It's not that far of a conclusion to jump.

Pickman may take longer than some, but it's not like he's ever needed a lot of time to work up to doing something stupid. The biggest preparation he makes, really, is taking off his shoes. He typically wears them as a courtesy, and to blend in, but in a dangerous situation, mobility is way more important.

So as he scampers up to Hellboy and... lady in the black catsuit, hello... at the temple, it may catch the eye that instead of sturdy boots, his feet are wrapped up in strips of dark cloth and duct tape, and look decidedly more... hoof-like... underneath the setup.

"'ey! This the Beta party?" He grins, toothy and yellow.

Mina was out shopping when she got the call. It did not do wonders for her disposition. Her enchantment with Baedal had been dwindling for some time now (right aroud the first time some idiot decided to call her 'petal,' frankly) and she was in no mood to work with people; especially mortal people; especially those Hellsing people. But on the other hand, she supposed as she abandoned her shopping bags on the front step of the Inn and made her way to the temple, perhaps this was an opportunity in disguise.

An opportunity to prove that she was a useful commodity that had been soundly abused.

She hurried through the streets, smoothing down the front of her pin-stripped suit, adjusting the angle of her fedora. She had a first aid kit tucked neatly under her arm. Everything about her presented the appearance of someone who was organized, together, and on top of things.

What was inside was another matter entirely.

"Hello," she said, arriving on the scene. "I'm Dr. Mina Barrett. I've been chosen to die along with the rest of you."

It didn't take Clark long to get to the temple - most of the time was taken up with wondering if he should go at all, since working with other people meant risking his secret identity, and that went against everything he'd grown up with even if this wasn't Kansas any more. But the chance to send a letter home to his parents was enough of an incentive, on top of actually helping people and finding a cure rather than just fighting the symptoms by knocking down nests.

This agonising means he has long enough to see Hellboy's reply, so when he arrives at the temple, it's easy enough for him to find the right group. He pulls up the hood on his top and puts on a pair of sunglasses - this is as close to an actual disguise as he's been able to make for himself, and it'll have to do.

"Um... hey," he waves just a little awkwardly.

Boromir raises his hand in a wave when he sees Hellboy from a bit away, striding up to the temple every bit the former soldier of Gondor/current field agent of Hellsing. He's sporting a borrowed shield along with his sword, and while he's toned down his usual Medieval attire (chain mail has a habit of clinking, which may not be the best effect in this scenario) he's still wearing his elven cloak (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Middle-earth_objects#Elven-cloaks).

Once he reaches their band, he nods in greeting. "Well met." His world's traditional greeting has a certain dryness to it today.

Meg lives for this kind of thing. She doesn't even really pretend otherwise--she's a Scion, this is what she was made for (although it's not exactly her M.O. as Xi Wangmu's daughter, it's still something to do). She turns up with a smile on, wearing tiny shorts, boots, a button-up blouse, and a belt with assorted bags and pouches containing her shaman's supplies.

Over her shoulder, she carries a particular sort of polearm (http://www.learn-chinese-martial-arts.com/images/GuanDao.jpg), as though it weighs nothing.

"Gang's almost all here, it looks like. I'm Meg."

She's accompanied by something invisible that skitters over the floorboards. Suddenly, it makes itself apparent: a large female red fox, uncannily intelligent, and to those with supernatural vision, it has nine tails instead of one.

"...and this is Daji."

Hellboy looks around the assembled group -- Pickman's hooves get a chuckle and a wiggle of his own little hoof-toes -- and says, "Okay, this looks like a pretty good sized group. If there's anyone else supposed to show, hopefully they'll catch up.

"Anyway, yes, I'm Hellboy. Mina and Meg have introduced themselves... and... Daji." He looks down at Daji for a moment, scratching at the little bit of beard at the center of his chin, then gives a slouchy shrug and says, "Nice to meet you. Also, this is Richard Pickman, and Boromir. Boromir and I are both Hellsing agents. I didn't catch names for you two, though." He looks at Cindy and Clark.

(Hopefully, Clark's thought of some sort of name, or else that hoodie and shades are going to get him called the Unabomber, and none of them wants that.)

"I didn't throw it," Cindy replies dryly. No offense meant, honestly. That's just her automatic response to that particular phrase. "Cynthia."

She glances around at this motley crew of god-drafted people and wonders who's the weakest link of them all. It's something she wants to know now rather than guess about it and find out the hard way later. The big red dude, the girl with the polearm, and he who calls himself Boromir look like decent enough battlers. Cindy can't say much more for the others. "Any of you have experience in these types of missions? Speak now so the rest of us will know how to work with you."

Or around you if she gets frustrated enough with this entire shindig.

As the rest of what seems to be their group filter in, Pickman considers each of them in kind. (And most certainly does not make any kind of squeak of delight when the fox appears. You're hearing things if you think otherwise.) It's an impressive collection of people, and he's not sure where he'd place himself on it, but... nowhere near the top, certainly.

Still, he's got one thing going for him that he's pretty sure the rest of them don't.

He shakes his head, when Cindy poses the question of their experience. "Not with none've this adventure team shit. I ain't no fighter. But I know fuckin' tunnels. That's my motherfuckin' summer home."

Mina sighed softly. She didn't particularly want to share her resume with this...assortment of individuals. But she supposed if she was going to die with them, it was no matter. No one seemed to care much about the Masquerade anyway. "Yes," she said bluntly. "Not with ants, but I have deal with...supernatural threats before. I've fought a...dragon. And a train that was brought to life by a fae." She glanced at her fingernails absently. "And an army of unpleasant Catholics, although I suppose that's small potatoes right now."

She glanced up at the group. "I imagine I'm here to patch you all up as we get torn apart," she added bluntly, "but for what it's worth, if we're running out, I have a little trick of my sleeve that can keep the ants from following us."

Mina left it at that. If they cared enough to know, or if they needed it, she'd play her part.

Boromir's glad to hear there's someone who knows their way around tunnels, and fighting a dragon is certainly no easy feat.

"Hellboy roughly knows this, but I was Captain-General of my country's army in a war waged against the Dark Lord Sauron. He was one of the Maiar, and from what I gather that's similar to what you would all call a lower god." He's loathe to use the term, as it implies worship and reverence, but it is a close approximation. "I was involved in a quest to destroy an artefact that was crucial to his power before I was brought here. I've fought against Orcs, trolls, spiders bigger than horses and an assortment of other foul creatures."

"Oh, no, hon. You're getting torn apart by yourself. It was nice knowing you for however long as it's been."

Cindy doesn't know who or what Mina's all about, but the point where she gave a shit has long died and is rotting off in a corner somewhere. She hates working with pessimists even more than having to work with a team. They haven't even planned on who does what yet and here this woman is already sentencing them to death. Somebody wants to be the weakest link in this mission chain; Cindy's more than glad to let Mina be it. And she definitely doesn't care enough to beg Mina to confess her little hat trick.

Turning to the foxy girl, Cindy nods at her weaponry and glances at the fox. "Please tell me his or her teeth aren't just there for decoration."

"Okay, that's enough, the both of you," Hellboy says, looking at Mina and Cindy. "Save it for your own time. Now, since you asked, yeah, I've been a paranormal investigator for most of my life, and stuff like this is practically run of the mill.

"Now..." He gestures at the equipment. "As for the gear and who does what: It looks like most of us are combat-ready, so that's good. First thing we'll need to do is track the ants back home. I can do some of that, and I expect Boromir can, too. Anyone else, speak up. Whoever's best at that should probably get the compass. Pickman's already spoken up about having underground navigation covered. Mina patches up whoever gets hurt. I recommend we all take a share of the glowsticks, and whoever has the spare cargo capacity takes the basket."

He sets his Right Hand on the crate, tapping its big stone fingers on the tarped lid. "And last but not least, I can carry this myself, but I'm hoping at least one of you is strong enough that we can switch off as needed, especially if we have to fight on the move."

"I don't need no glowsticks," Pickman says quickly. He taps the side of his head with one long nail. "I got my eyes." Which means, of course, that someone else can take his share. He's trying to be helpful, in his own way. "So, ah -- I can take the basket?" It smells strongly, strongly of sugar... hardly the most appealing thing in the world for a ghoul, but he imagines that for an ant...

"'less one've you trackin' want it. Bait, maybe, yeah?"

Once everyone got their stuff together, the team heads back out onto the city streets. After getting their bearings, Hellboy pauses and makes sure the crate is securely held on his right shoulder, his massive stone hand cradling the opposite edge. He then uses his left hand to draw a cigarette and light it with a quickness and efficiency that speaks to how long he's been used to only having one hand for delicate operations.

"Okay," he says around his cigarette, gesturing at the crate with his head. "I got this thing, so someone else is gonna have to handle the tracking for now. Find us an ant, get us going in the right direction."

Meg gives a sloppy little salute and bright grin (she seems wholly comfortable, even personable, in these situations, but no less genuinely professional).

"I'm on it, chief. I'll scout up ahead and move back. If anybody is coming with me, now would be the time." And forward she goes--not by a great deal, but she moves quickly (faster than it is at all normal), and her eyes are very, very sharp. She sees things that have been disturbed by the ants' size, the marks they leave on their surroundings, and where they might have claimed food or objects to bring back to the nest.

Edited 2011-08-03 02:37 (UTC)

Having traipsed around the city for a while, the trackers lead the team to their destination. The frontage surrounding the passageway underground looks like it could once have been quite nice, but time and the elements have long since taken their toll. The ants marching in and out of the passage, of course, don't appear to particularly care about the aesthetics of their home.

"Karsten and Pierce's Mushroom Farm," Hellboy says, reading off the faded sign. "Ants and fungus. Guess we found the right place. Shall we?"

Pickman snickers, sounding rather like a manic squirrel for a few seconds. "Figures, yeah?"

He runs his fingers through his stringy, thinning hair, pulling it behind his ears, wiggling his feet (or what remain of them) to try and de-stick them from their wrappings. "You want I should go in first? Scout-like?" He looks to Hellboy as he asks this. (Ghouls are creatures with a loose pack structure, at least in his world. Checking with the team's 'alpha' is just what he's going to do.)

Mina stood to the back of the group, taking off one of her rings. It was one of her favorites, give to her by Captain Rackham after he realized that she was, in fact, a girl and not having an affair with his mistress. It was a handy little thing because, in addition to being decorative, it was fairly poorly made, with several sharp, jagged edges sticking out of the gold base in all kinds of directions.

She dragged one of those jagged edges across her wrist, horizontally to avoid any gushing. A thin line of blood formed on her skin, deep crimson against the pale white. For a moment, she watched it. When there was a sufficient amount, she quietly whispered to herself in a foreign language. Instantly, all of her skin shimmered, hardening into a sort of armor. Maiden Skin. One of her favorite spells.

Putting her ring back on, Mina reached into her pocket and pulled out one of her pistols, cocking the firing mechanism and pointing the barrel up. She was ready.

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Mission Beta

Pre-Mission: At the Temple

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Tracking Down the Nest

Tracking Down the Nest

Into the Nest!

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