november event

[hohnkai]

Who: Everyone
When: November 15th and on
Where: The Moira.
What: The ship begins to fall apart and enters a “timeslip” when the Ingress is turned on.
Warnings: Potential violence. Please label your content!

E V E N T L O G

meet head-on "Here I am at the end of the road and at the top of the heap.." So far, things have been sort of normal for those aboard the Moira. Some of the crew have begun researching the Ingress, which has produced some interesting things as a result. There has also been the incident with Navigator Mana being separated from the ship while others have been deal with something worse as well as the on-going problem with Ploiatos. However, all of this isn't the problem. The Ingress begins to work as it should after combined efforts from the crew and is honed in on the Midway Hub’s specific signature, but traveling there isn’t exactly easy. Since the Ingress hasn’t been working properly for so long, as the energy of it surrounds the ship, it enters the Moira into what the creators had called a “timeslip”. Looking outside the ship, this can be described as a multitude of different things. Inside the ship is a completely different story. Effects from Ploiatos have not disappeared, and some of them have even amplified due to the timeslip. Pieces of the ship are beginning to rot away and entire sections of the floor might just disappear from underfoot. Also, one other thing: ALL rooms have been unlocked, including a space that holds all of the missing shoes “taken” by the Ingress. ☄ LET’S DO THE TIMEWARP (AGAIN) The timeslip is not kind to those riding it through to its destination. Looking out any window will reveal worlds growing, thriving and dying in the blink of an eye. One may even glimpse faces of those they know in various states, perhaps even fragments of events that have not happened or maybe never will. Time is weird like that. But there are other things to be wary of in the time slip. Insomnia strikes without warning, and sanity will begin to trickle away as well. Some may even fall prey to body alterations as they travel through more damaged areas of the ship. Bodies may be altered by the energy of the slip, aging rapidly or changing in strange and uncomfortable ways that can’t be properly explained. These changes will happen suddenly and fade away without warning, but there is no getting used to it. People are not meant to be caught unprotected within a timeslip like this, and with the ship falling apart, there is nothing to keep them insulated from the side effects of the vortex. They say if you stare too long into the abyss that the abyss begins to stare back, but in this case, even averting your eyes may not keep you safe from the dangers on all sides. ☄ HE ATE MY HEART Inside the timeslip, one thing is clear: anything and everything can happen. First Mate Egan will tell anyone who asks that this isn’t typical, which prompts Ira to tell the crew to exercise caution until they reach the Midway Hub. What should take seconds feels like weeks inside the slip, and packing for departure is encouraged. Outside the ship, time flits by, passing disorientingly fast, and for the first few days, it is the only notable malfunction. Three days in, the crew encounter the first slip monsters. They come within hours of each other in two waves, and when they’ve boarded the Moira, they won’t go until killed or the ship has reached the Hub. The pool will have a new guest, the hallways are over run with small creatures, and the vents are swarming with massive foreign things. The slip is a dangerous place, and all crew are allowed to use any means necessary to stay safe. (All slip monsters can be used by any players; the monsters can attack each other, crew, themselves, the ship. It’s a literal monster throw-down.) ☄ ISN'T IT IRONIC? DON'T YOU THINK? As the Moira reaches the Midway Hub, the ship shudders out of the timeslip‐what should be a graceful stop is anything but. The ship shakes, the vibrations unending and splitting metal. The Ingress machine thrums, a heartbeat felt in every inch of the Moira as the energy crests out of the boundaries the creators had fashioned for it. Blue swirls of light curl up and out, breaking open the ship from the inside out. It begins to plummet, and evacuation measures are, once again, initiated. Crew are instructed to get to transporters and crafts, leaving nothing and no one behind. The ship is breaking, falling fast and rough through the atmosphere surrounding the Hub. Evacuation pods are primed, anyone in cryo will be taken to the Cargo Bay for transport (unless alternate arrangements were already made), and the hatch in the Bay is opened for crew to escape through. The coordinates for meeting are sent to all crew, not far from where the Moira should touch down, and all medical staff are asked to be ready and waiting for when the ship lands. ☄ GROUND CONTROL TO MAJOR TOM Those who have already evacuated and have landed on the foggy, dark expanse of terrain that the coordinates have guided them to will see nothing around them except for the bright light of the Moira as it breaches the atmosphere and crashes into the rocky surface of the Midway Hub. One of the Captains, Thán, chose to stay on the ship until the last moment to make sure all crew were evacuated and was injured in the process. His reading on the IC Directory blips in and out, signaling that he’s somewhere in the ship’s rubble in need of immediate assistance. The MIDs stop functioning after the initial crash and other than reading vital signs, won’t come back on for a few hours (the network won’t work correctly in that time frame, sending videos and messages that it shouldn’t or not posting at all). The other Captains will ask for someone to take a head count and to report anyone who might be missing while all others will be directed to carefully seek out crew in the rubble and to gather any cargo that they can. Take inventory, set up a medical tent, check transporters and crafts, help crew, and stay together until everyone is accounted for.

Comments

[a_shadow]

☄ CLOSED TO RYUUZAKI

The first morning after the Ingress enters the timeslip, Tex awakens early—far earlier than normal, according to her internal chronometer (if that even means anything now). Everything's strange now, has been since the effects of Ploiatos's imprisonment have begun to manifest, but something's worse now. She can tell.

Tex hasn't been wearing her armor often lately, not since her recovery, but after awakening Ryuuzaki and encouraging to put on the grey armor he'd recovered from the Mother of Invention those many months ago, she straps her own jet-black armor on and leaves the room to investigate. She wants to patrol, mainly, check out all the secure areas of the ship and make sure things are all intact and in place. She waits for him, of course, and they set out to reconnoiter in all the key places—and making their way to the Tower, of course, is a priority. So they sweep the hallways and investigate everything that appears to be amiss. Which is much, in the end.

☄ I. LET’S DO THE TIMEWARP (AGAIN)

Tex knows after that first foray into the hallways that people are going to be suffering the effects of the timeslip. After seeing events from her own universe taking place outside the ship, she knows how upsetting, how traumatizing, it can be. So she continues wearing her armor and patrolling, making her way through less-traveled areas of the ship to rescue people and escort them back to the living quarters.

She doesn't account for the fact, though, that she's unused to wearing her armor this much anymore. And at some point, she starts to feel just plain weak. Does she take a moment to rest, sitting off to the side, struggling just to catch a breath? Well, it depends on whether she had been helping someone at the time. A girl must keep up appearances when necessary.

☄ II. HE ATE MY HEART

Thankfully, though, she's still Tex, and resting helps her bounce back. And this is just in the nick of time. There are creatures appearing all over the ship. They don't all appear to have malicious intent, not exactly, but there are others...oh, the others. Others are bloodthirsty and violent. Tex goes to the shooting range and gathers her weapons and prepares. And when she's needed, she comes out fighting. She's highly skilled at hand-to-hand fighting, but with her recent recovery she keeps herself to distance fighting for the most part. Her number one priority, as always, is protecting the denizens of the ship, and she avoids engaging unless and until necessary.

That is, until she sees an alien, one from her own universe, one of the ones she was fighting back home. She drives forward, spotting it about to attack one of the ship residents.

"Move it!" she yells, gesturing. "Why are you just standing there?"

☄ III. GROUND CONTROL TO MAJOR TOM

Tex doesn't trust the evacuation pods, not after what happened the last time, so she makes her way to a transporter and straps in. She's on the ground when the Moira crashes, then, and watches the event in horror. Not again, oh god, not again. She doesn't hesitate, despite her exhaustion at this point, to make her way to the wreckage and start rescue attempts and salvage recovery. She's sick and tired of things going wrong.

It's all worth it, though, when someone can be heard shouting through the rubble and she uncovers their prone body. "Are you okay?" she asks with urgency. "Tell me if it feels like anything is broken."

[ryuuzaki]

This armor is both a useful resource and a liability.

Useful, because L is intensely conscious of his own human physical fragility: training can make him faster and more agile, and somewhat stronger, but it will never make him capable of superhuman feats, and it will never make him bulletproof. A liability, because... well, look what had happened last time. He'd worn it for the sake of survival when the Caducans had attacked, and he'd managed to anger several people on his own side without realizing it was a risk. He's sprayed over the yellow trim, so now the armor is more or less one color, flat steel, and he doesn't use it unless he needs to.

Today qualifies. He's been waiting for the consequences of all the recent decisions to come down -- and now, they seem to be cascading. They'd separated Mana from the ship and look what had happened. They'd repaired the Ingress and used the timeslip function and this was the result -- the first result, so far. The ship may have been built for this, but that doesn't mean it's suited for it.

"If we're lucky, this is the worst of it."

Has anyone ever been that lucky?

[decepticonpeacemaker]

A. Evacuation

[Thankfully, Soundwave didn't have much in the way of personal belongings. It was easy enough to pack up everything - the berth and the odd toy that looked like Laserbeak were about it. The toy was usually stuffed in his subspace where no one could possibly see it anyways.]

[His focus now was working his way through the crumbling hallways, to find Ravage. He knew the cassette could take care of himself, but... After everything that happened he couldn't help but worry. He wanted to be sure that his friend got out of the ship alright.]



B. "Landing"

[Well. He'd been through worse landings. After having his head shot off, getting a bit roughed up by a ship crashing was nothing. That said, the organics on the ship weren't nearly as durable. And wandering through flaming rubble was harder for them.]

[Once Soundwave had accounted for the Cybertronians he cared for, he would see what he could do to help. He might not care for them much, but the organics were part of their ship.]

A

[taselikeabee]

[ like Soundwave, there isn't much for Bee to carry out either. more or less it's just him and the cane. as soon as it's clear what's about to happen, Bumblebee is out the door and hobbling along the corridors. ]

Worst timing. It's always the worst timing...

Asriel Dreemurr | ota

[pleasereset]

[A. Let's Do the Time Warp (Again) | November 17th]

[Insomnia is not new to Asriel, but he could've sworn he thought he was starting to get over it. After yet another sleepless night, the young monster wanders out of his room and starts making his way towards the observation deck.

While his usual appearance is nothing to be intimidated by - it was kind of hard to be intimidated by a small, fuzzy goat-looking monster with big floppy ears - in the dark hallways he looks a little different than usual. His usual small horns seem to be longer, more curved and only growing bigger as he walks. His two long fangs seem a little longer and sharper than normal. A long tail trails behind him, replacing his short, stubby one.

And if someone gets a real good look at him, his eyes look much different than usual.

He doesn't seem to notice any of these changes yet, but he will notice if someone's looking his way.]

Uh, howdy! [He smiles weakly, but it sinks into a frown.] Is... something wrong?

[B. He Ate My Heart | November 18th]

[Monsters are everywhere, and none of them seem to be the friendly type. While trying to escape a couple of strange-looking but extremely hostile creatures, Asriel is met with a loud hiss as he tries to hide himself in the library.]

HEELPPP!!

[Whoever comes across Asriel's call for help will stumble across a pretty alarming scene. His identity disk is out and lit up in red lights, as if he was trying to defend himself. But both Asriel and his disk is covered in a sticky web, and he's caught between trying to flail around uselessly and use his disk to try to keep himself from being dragged.

Towards a very large, very hungry-looking spider.

Help please?]

B.

[a_shadow]

[ Tex hears the small voice cry out and she is immediately running. The calling seems to be coming from further down the way, near the library, and she makes her way there as rapidly as possible.

When she spots Asriel she doesn't hesitate for a moment. She has no weapons for close combat, nothing to ward off the touch of the sticky web, but at this point getting between the spider and its victim is the most important objective. But Tex is holding her rifle. Rifle becomes staff as Tex dives in between the spider and Asriel, and she slashes with it, breaking the strands, but immediately entangling the weapon in the substance. Tex lets go and tucks and rolls past the mess, landing on her feet and turning to run back in Asriel's direction. ]

Darin Altway | OTA

[forgeabettertomorrow]

-Timewarp-

[After everything he had managed to accomplish in helping to decipher those journals on the Ingress, Darin was feeling incredibly proud of himself. He hadn't felt this way in a long time; feeling like what he was doing was actually helping people. Making a difference. Not since his last run in with Dromas, anyway. Where he'd learned what he was meant to do as opposed to the things he had always wanted to.]

[So, when the Moira enters the timeslip, Darin decides to make his way to the Observation Deck. Wherever they were going, he wanted to see the journey. Document it in his sketchbook, if he could.]

[When he makes it to the deck, however, what he sees is not something he would ever have expected. He sees time flowing like water, worlds being born, thriving and dying in an instant. And for a moment, a world that looks just like Anmaral; it is born as if out of nothing. It thrives in peace, and then suddenly...]

[It doesn't just decay. Cracks form and it burns from the inside out. Darin drops his notebook and presses himself to the window, staring out as a cold sweat starts to run down his face.]

No. No no no no no! No!! Turn back!! Turn back now, dammit!!

[Was that what it was going to be like? Is that what Dromas and he were going to do?? Deep down inside, he could feel it. He could feel the presence there, and he felt his entire body surge, as if in jubilation.]

[And it disgusted him.]

[He drops to his knees as starts gagging.]

No...No that couldn't have...

-He Ate My Heart-

First Wave
[So, watching a world that looked hauntingly similar to his own world literally get born and then pretty much get torn apart from the inside did not do wonders for Darin's ability to sleep. As such, Darin does what he always did back home when he couldn't sleep: work.]

[So, he's trudging his way towards engineering, ready to study up some more on the Ingress when he stops cold. Why? Because there's a man standing in his path. A man that looks exactly like Darin, save for the fact that his hair is a rich, forest green, and what it lacks in spikes, it makes up for in length. In reality, it's a fear demon, but to Darin? It looks just like...]

...Dromas?

How...How the hell...?

[Darin shakily pulls his hand back to the small of his back and grips the handle of hilt of his dao as Dromas takes a very pointed step forward.]

Second Wave
[Darin was not having a good time. Sure, he could deal with fighting monsters. In fact, it was a great stress reliever. So, after coping with some internal demons (HA) he's making himself useful: He's fighting whatever monsters he can. Despite his exhaustion, he'll leap into a fray. As expected of a blacksmith, he's incredibly handy with a weapon, and his jet black dao is no exception. Through a combination of precision strikes and some vicious punches and kicks thrown in, he's more than holding his own.]

[Until a pack of necromorphs descend upon him.]

[See, monsters are one thing. But the undead? Nope. Nope. NOPENOPENOPENOPENOPE.]

[One look at these things, and Darin doesn't just about faces and bolts. If you were fighting with him? Well. Sorry.]

NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE. THAT'S THE LINE. THAT IS THE EXACT LINE AND IT HAS BEEN CROSSED. SCREW EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS!!

[What a champ.]

-Isn't It Ironic? Don't You Think?-

Man, things couldn't possibly get any worse...

[And then the ship started exploding and breaking apart.]

[With a literal constant stream of swearing, Darin makes a beeline first for his room to grab whatever notebooks he can stuff into a pack (he never did figure out those disc things) including the copies of the Ingress journals he'd made. On his way out, he looks to his MID, opens all frequencies and starts shouting.]

This is Darin Altway! If anyone is getting this and needs help, tell me where you are! And for the record, I promise this isn't my fault! So before anyone starts giving me crap about fires and the starting thereof, let's focus on getting the hell off this crate first!!


-Ground Control to Major Tom-

[So that just happened.]

[Darin had watched the Moira crash and burn, literally, with a sort of look one might see on someone who is watching a city sized spaceship slam into the ground. He literally couldn't look away for the duration of the catastrophe.]

[Once it's all said and done, however, Darin starts getting to work. He figures everyone will start making their way to the wreckage in one way or another, so he starts the hike. When he's a reasonable distance away, he starts constructing a makeshift shelter. It really isn't much, but it's serviceable. And when he's done, he builds a giant bonfire in hopes of attracting people to his location.]

[Once he's done? He sits his ass down, opens up his notebook, and starts sketching.]

-Wildcard-

[Hit me with anything you want!]

SECOND WAVE

[happyclappyhippydrippy]

[And then there's this guy, standing there ankle deep in the undead and looking mostly just a little baffled and a bit inconvenienced. But then these this little blue haired human who is clearly more inconvenienced by all this than Drift is, so naturally he feels inclined to help the poor guy out.]

Hey, let me give you a lift. I can't even imagine how bad those things must smell from down there.

[there's one like humping his foot or trying to climb it or something. It's gross. He kind of just casually kicks it over.]

Liquid Snake | ota

[saveyourserpent]

[A. TIME WON'T GIVE ME TIME]

Who knew that something called a 'timeslip' would bring some pretty fucked-up things, right? Sometimes it's hard to sleep, and the ship is literally falling apart. Some people might panic about these things.

Liquid Snake is not one of those people. He can handle this, dammit. Even if he's been up for longer than he needed to. Even if the ship isn't just physically falling apart. Even if his mind just keeps going back to a lot of things he'd rather not go back to, even if his body keeps trying to... do something, he's not sure what, but it keeps on returning to normal anyway.

Sometimes his glass arm becomes flesh again. Sometimes that's all that's seemingly left of him as the rest of his body becomes a ghostly translucent. Sometimes, he poofs into a cloud of smoke and it feels like all the work he's been doing on harnessing his powers was useless. But then it's like nothing ever happened. Frustrating, that is.

If that's not bad enough, the hallucinations sure are. Don't mind if he's staring like there's something horrifying there. It's probably not. Probably.

[B. FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT]

There are monsters on this ship.

Okay, maybe that's an understatement. Some of the ship's crew could be considered monstrous, and then there was that former crewman fiasco they had to deal with. But these are, well, the best way to describe them is monsters, traditional movie things that one might be hard-pressed to describe any other way.

When Liquid got a good night's sleep for the first time in a while (or was it just a day? he can't tell anymore), he woke up to find something small and horrible looking into his face when he opened his eyes.

His body popped into smoke form for a moment, but not before he grabbed the thing and flung it against a wall.

Now something bigger's headed towards him, or maybe it's just the most recent in a bunch of things coming after him, but either way, he's fighting them off. With a mop that he found, apparently.

"Bloody thing ate my gun and I haven't had a chance to grab anything else. How are you with cleaning products?"

[C. ON THE RUN]

Luckily, Liquid had all his stuff packed up a while ago. Which was no small feat; his celebrity status on the colony had proved pretty lucrative, and he'd spent a lot of time shopping. Probably too much time. But with no restrictions on weapons like the last time he had time for a shopping spree, plus the interesting selection of things one could find at the colony, he'd certainly collected quite a bit.

He made sure to convert the storage case into a backpack for convenience purposes, which works damn well here. Only a few things to grab and he's out. One of those things, of course, being his dog.

"C'mon!"

The dog certainly knows it's time to get the hell out of here, and they take off running.

Once they've evacuated, he's going to hang around for a bit to make sure people are okay. The dog might not be a puppy anymore, but he's going to check up on anyone he can find too, wagging his tail and barking excitedly like he's just made an important discovery. Guess it's time for a follow up.

"You alright?"

[D. WILDCARD]

[as always, other stuff is a-okay. find him fighting stuff, running around, getting the hell out of there, or whatever the heck else. he's got a better handle on his smoke powers now, but they still pop in at inopportune times. just post, or plot with me here or at agentkaz.]

A.

[trap_factory]

Time messes with him in a way that makes even a centuries old robot shiver. Time that he'd forgotten, times that he'd sooner forget and the worst of the lot; times that never happened. Prometheus refused to believe there could ever be time where he and Pandora were without the torment that Albert put them through. The false promise of it alone would have driven him mad.

(And the ship was tearing itself apart well enough without his interference. As usual.)

"My, my," comes a rather familiar voice from next to Liquid. Has he been standing there long? Who knows. Prometheus is hard to predict at the best of times. "Don't we look like we've seen a ghost. Sorry, ghost hunting equipment wasn't included in the package so would you mind providing a commentary? I'd love to know what goes through that head of yours."

cw: graphic violence

[prorenataa]

☄ HE ATE MY HEART – Closed

[ The ship was falling apart around them, which was not the way the trip was supposed to go. Though really, why had he thought anything would go according to plan?

The MedBay, at least, was packed up in the discs, with some field kits left out to cover emergencies. Though, if he kept running into things like he’d experienced so far, Adrien was going to see about getting more equipment out of the PacDisc.

He was on his way to the Medbay when he caught a glimpse of the first one out of the corner of his eye. Stopping, he wheeled back towards the dark hallway, his heart stopping in his chest. No … NO, it couldn’t have been. His eyes were playing tricks on him.

pleasedearfateslethiseyesbeplayingtricksonhim

But no, Courser was suddenly on extreme guard, the bahari straightening up into a defensive posture the doctor hadn’t seen from his companion since they’d arrived on the Moira. ]

Come on.

[ He said softly, casting one more glance over his shoulder, before he turned to continue on his path.

It was the sound of still, decaying air, whistling that gave him any sort of warning. Intensive training that had drilled kinetic muscle memory into his body coming to his rescue as he flicked the ring on his finger, activating the shield in the split second before the impact sent him hurtling down the hallway and through the far interior wall.

He hit the ground and tumbled further than he intended, the momentum not his own. Barely finding his feet before a second Scourge came whistling through the dark, faster than the human eye could track. He managed to avoid that one, only to spin into the path of a third, which sent him careening through yet another wall, crashing through the already decaying decking.

They did love to attack in packs.

While the shielding took the killing blows, Adrien found himself fighting for breath as it was repeatedly knocked out of him. By now the assassin squad had a fix on the man known only as NHD-C12-RBC-010 and they were converging. The doctor barely had time to even consider the implications of what was happening around him, he was in a fight for his life and he knew it.

Courser was a streak of multi-colored scales as the bahari chased the crashing fight through the halls and decks until they finally landed in the cargo bay. On the positive side, Adrien finally had room and bits and pieces of cargo boxes and ships to use as platforms to put together his own attacks. The bad news was, the Scourge had more room to get up to speed in their blistering attacks.

The fight that ensued moved at an almost inhuman pace. The doctor had access to his big ass knife, his switchblade and his handgun, though the latter wasn’t very effective against the Scourge. Courser was a flash of a sleek body as he employed teeth and claws to the effort of distraction. It was a fighting pattern the pair had known since they had first been placed together.

Adrien knew what was needed to deliver a killing blow to the Scourge and as he had back in a cave, on a planet long gone, he swept in, using the handgun to stun and the larger knife to finish the decapitation. Dark black, oily ‘blood’ was soon spread far and wide across this one area of the cargo bay. It wasn’t the only blood spilled. Ten minutes into the intense fighting, the shield was spent, leaving the doctor vulnerable with only his speed and tactical resourcefulness to protect him.

And Courser. The bahari was known almost as a therapy tracker on this ship, those who thought such of him wouldn’t have recognized the murder cat as he tore into the Scourge, his sleek scales and bright blue mane soaked in the black ichor of his enemies.

Even as fast as Adrien could move, he was severely handicapped by numbers. For every Scourge he managed to dispatch (and he was racking up a body count) two more came in its place. His hand to hand training against those who were stronger than himself, came to his aid as for all their speed and ruthlessness the Scourge were vulnerable to the blows from the doctor's hands and feet; at least backing them up long enough to get to a position of advantage, leading with the knife.

As he twisted through the air to slice through the clone body of the one in his sights, a second came in grabbing his arm and wrenching it backwards. Courser was there in a split second, his claws tearing into the Scourge’s back, teeth ripping through its neck, but it had time to push the doctor into the waiting grip of a third that was swooping in.

Before Adrien could get himself flipped around, he was caught up under the arm and, using its inhuman speed as momentum, he found himself flying through the air, crashing with bone crushing force into parts of a transport ship. The heavy thud was the only noise he made as he dropped to the decking, stunned. Grounded, he was a sitting target for the attack of a fourth and a fifth, the two Scourge descending on him and driving wickedly sharp claws into his torso, shredding skin and muscle as they tore at him.

Courser came bounding into the fray, taking the one straight on in the face, heedless of the way it’s wings swept up to tear at his own ribcage and flank. Adrien, running on pure adrenaline and the sure knowledge that if he didn’t get up now, he would never get up again, pushed upwards, slipping on his own blood as he threw himself at the other Scourge. His handgun was out of bullets at this point, but he snapped the slide free of the barrel and drove it into the Scourge’s eye, the soaked knife slashing wildly.

Doctor and bahari again gained the upper hand on their immediate foes but there were more flooding into the cargo bay and as Adrien dispatched the Scourge under his knife, he was once again sent flying back an attack from behind. Slamming into a group of stacked metal boxes, his head slammed hard into the corner of one of the boxes, knocking his senses awry as he hit the deck. In between one breath and the next, he felt a set of hands on his right arm, twisting the limb in its socket as another set of hands grabbed a leg.

This was their preferred method of dispatching a target. Literally ripping an organic body into shreds and though he heard Courser’s scream split the decaying air around them, Adrien didn’t imagine that the bahari could reach him in time. ]


☄ GROUND CONTROL TO MAJOR TOM – OTA - MEDICAL

[ No rest for the wicked.

This was why he’d been an anal fuck about making sure the PacDisc’s were carefully inventoried, to ensure that the medical staff could get to whatever they needed in almost any set of circumstances and with as little direction as possible. Heedless of his own wounds, and there were plenty, Adrien was on his feet and diving into the chaos, assisting Bones in trying to secure a location in this hostile environment.

Somewhere that could be used as at least one of the central staging location.

To anyone who looked like they were part of the medical team or were there to help, Adrien was quick with pointing out where an extra set of hands was needed. ]

We’ve got the pacdiscs labeled; try to keep from unloading all of them at one time if you’re just looking for a bandage.

Here, can you help triage?

[ For those who were coming to this area for medical treatment, well hopefully they would just ignore the fact that their doctor looked worse than they did. This wasn’t his first rodeo in a situation like this, either the chaos of the crash or his own deteriorated condition.

To those patients who came in ambulatory, his words were quick and to the point. ]

Sit down before you fall down because I can’t pick your ass up. On a scale of one to ‘what the fuck is going on’ where is the worst of the pain?

[ To patients who were brought in by others, because they couldn’t bring themselves in, Adrien pointed to any space that had been set up with blankets. ]

Help them or just lay them there … do you know what happened?


C - ☄ WildCard
[ Want something not available here? Hit me up in a PM or pPlurk Laekhund and let’s talk! ]

ground control

[worn_wings]

[ It's hard to be sure whether this happened in the fighting or the falling-- everything's been a little disorienting. Daryl's still upright, which is more than can be said for other people. He's just not in much shape to go be useful, sorting through the wreckage in search of anyone who didn't make it out.

Not bothered by the harried bedside manner, he sits down with a grunt of discomfort. The adrenaline's wearing off, which means it's actually starting to hurt. There's a black bandana tied neatly around his leg, dark with old dirt and new bloodstains. Otherwise, he's banged up but not bothered about it.

Going to a doctor is just about Daryl's least favorite thing ever, but they're in a hurry here. ]

Needs stitches, probably.

rey | ota

[ventifact]

WELL WE RUSHED IT, MOVING WAY TOO FAST [MONSTERS]

[Seeing the stars slip by is nothing new to Rey. She'd seen hyperspace, both during her flying simulations and in real life. But there's something distinctly off about this kind of hyperspace (a timeslip, they'd called it; how stupid). She sees... well, she sees more than she's prepared to. Life, death, monsters, the eyes of people she thinks she knows. It's too much. She busies herself instead with preparing to leave, go return to Jakku or where-ever the Ingress would take her, as long as it was in her own part of the universe.

It doesn't take long to pack her things, and for three days, Rey waits. She sleeps in the Ingress chamber, eats there, hazel eyes only leaving the swirling blue portal when she has to bathe or fix something. She's doing the former when she hears a familiar howling shriek from within the ship.

Rathtar.

Her blood freezes and she pushes wet hair from her eyes, dressing as quickly as she can, still soaking wet. At least this time, she's armed with her lightsaber, a more effective weapon than her staff against tentacled monstrosities. Muttering to herself about how of course there would be some kind of Ingress malfunction when they were almost homefree, Rey makes her way stealthily through the ship. The silence is more terrifying than the screams from earlier--at least those gave her an idea of where the bloody things--

There's a screech right behind her, and Rey wheels around to see the monster rolling down the hall towards her, tentacles writhing in all directions. The scavenger breaks into a run for the opposite direction, and barely catches the silhouette of someone ahead of her. She waves her arm in front of her, trying to get them to turn down the nearest corridor. Rathtars aren't great at directing themselves once they get going.]

Move!

THAT WE CRUSHED IT, BUT IT'S IN THE PAST [ESCAPE]

[Rathtars and other monsters are the least of her worries as she more or less throws herself into the pilot's seat of the first transport with an open bay door. Her hands fly over the console, flipping switches and twisting knobs, prepping the ship for flight. She can hear the alarms blaring, and feel the Moira collapsing around her. There's no time for this, no time to make sure everyone is on board. Her head screams with the fear of everyone around her, mixed with her own, and sweat beads on her forehead as she tries to keep her composure. She grabs the microphone, her shaking voice blasting out into the bay:]

I'm taking off in two minutes!

[If they even had that long.]

WE CAN MAKE THIS LEAP THROUGH THE CURTAINS OF THE WATERFALL [WRECKAGE]

[Rey had seen ships crash before. It didn't happen often on Jakku, but it had happened. Usually they were smaller freighters, older, ones that couldn't withstand the wildly intense heat that came with entering Jakku's arid atmosphere. So she knows what's going to happen, knows it's going to be messy and awful and maybe a little heartbreaking.

But she still has to watch.

It takes hours for the fires to die enough for anyone to get close. She knows the dangers of spilled fuels and other corrosive liquids, and dons her full scavenging gear in preparation. Because even though this is a tragedy, even though that ship had been her makeshift home for months, she knows that this is not an opportunity to be wasted.

Rey borrows a speeder-like vehicle that had been on one of the transports and races towards the wreckage. If she's going to find anything good, she has to get to it before any more fires start.]

SAY GERONIMO [WILDCARD]

[for anything specific, pm me or ping me on plurk @watchet!]

monsters

[divagated]

[There's nothing like minding your own business when someone comes dashing towards you-- and with a monster trailing behind. Even if Ahsoka was caught off guard, she's able to act quickly, dodge rolling into the hallway and out of the way just in time. But then she's on her feet again, hands immediately going to her lightsabers, before she turns back to the girl that directed her there in the first place.]

Was that a rathtar?! [so maybe she's never actually seen one before, but she's heard about them and that's bad enough. It definitely seemed as awful as the stories she had heard.

She's also noting the lightsaber the other girl is holding. Anakin had told her about other force users here, she just hadn't had the chance to meet them yet. Now was as good of time as any?]

james t. kirk • ota

[caelus]

☆☆☆ let's do the timewarp (again) ( let's call him jim. )

[ The timeslip is, by far, one of the strangest things that Jim has experienced during his time in space. The insomnia hits first, and no matter what he tries, he can't seem to shake loose from it. More than once, during travel, he's found himself at an observation deck staring out at the bursts of birth, life, death of countless civilizations. It's awe-inspiring and terrifying all at once. He's lost hours at once just watching it all happen, seemingly unaware of his surroundings.

Other times, he's throwing himself into repair work, and shoring up damaged and decaying areas of the ship as much as he's able. They won't make it anywhere if the ship falls apart, so he focuses on that. During those times, though, he starts to hear and see things that can't possibly be real. For the most part, in front of other members of the crew, he's able to keep himself together. He pretends he doesn't see Christopher Pike standing with a bloody hole in his chest from a phaser cannon blast. I saw greatness in you. He pretends he doesn't hear the wheezy breathing of Krall, and hear his rasped out voice at his ear. Captain James T. Kirk, at least I know what I am!

His usual social nature is muted, and he starts spending more and more time alone. Time staring out into the multitude of universes right outside the glass, fingers pressed to the glass like he can see into the future, or maybe even the past. Sweetheart, can you hear me? Like he's trying to catch a glimpse of the man whose steps have both haunted and informed his life up until this point. He's notably unresponsive when he isn't actively working, it might take a bit to break through to him.

Feel free to find him staring out at the abyss, shoring up damaged areas of the ship or sealing them off from use, or just staring at nothing, caught up in his thoughts. ]

☆☆☆ he ate my heart ( i don't believe in no-win scenarios. )

[ The warning does not go unheeded. Even exhausted from insomnia, Jim keeps working to shore up the ship long enough to make it to its destination. When the first monsters appear, he takes it upon himself to protect those unable to defend themselves and move the non-combatants as far away from the fighting as possible. With all of the rooms now unlocked, it's easier to build a barricade, and defend it from the outside.

He'll only fight if he has to, and he won't leave his position of defense unless they need to evacuate the relative safety of where they are. If the call does come to vacate that area, Jim will encourage it in an orderly fashion, and help those who are having trouble keeping up, or are wounded. We're all going to get through this.

Right?

Feel free to find Jim building a barricade, helping someone move out of range of the combat, tending to wounded as best he can, or finally, engaging in hand to hand combat to repel boarders. ]


☆☆☆ isn't it ironic? don't you think? ( better to die saving lives. )

[ The fighting seems to go on impossibly long. The breaks between waves growing shorter and shorter, and the amount of assailants seem to outnumber the crew on deck. When the ship shudders her way out of the timeslip, it throws Jim against a bulkhead, and it takes a moment for him to steady himself. The ship, however, isn't steadying. He knows that feeling. It's breaking apart.

Amidst the fighting he can see the blue light that seems to be breaching through damaged and undamaged portions of the hull alike with a fantastic amount of energy. The evacuation is sounded, for the second time he has been on this ship, and his fighting grows more earnest, thought not for himself. Once he's free of one monster, he finds the nearest crew member, and helps to get them in the direction of the pods, or the Cargo Bay for a transport.

He can be seen fighting still, and ushering crew and helping wounded to abandon ship. He will not be seen boarding any of these himself. After all, Captains go down with the ship. ]

2

[morethan084]

[Coming across Jim during her quest to take out as many of these monsters as she could, Daisy lowered her weapon. Relaxing, if only for a moment.]

Any time I think this place can't get any more weird or worse, something weirder or worse happens.

Ronan Lynch

[nightmarist]

LET’S DO THE TIMEWARP (open to all)

[Anomalies involving time and energy are not kind to dreams or dreamers. Ronan, who has been coming apart on the inside for some time, now begins to look undone on the outside. The oily blackness which has been pooling in his dreams begins to escape his physical body, and there are moments when it leaks from his nose or his eyes or his ears or his mouth. It isn't a constant thing, but random and often enough to be impossible to hide. He is certainly dying, or re-experiencing a death he's already suffered, or experiencing it for the first time at the wrong time. Even though he isn't dreaming, he can hear the demon buzzing relentlessly in his head, so loud that hearing anything else is impossible at times. At others, it's just barely audible, just enough to remind him that he's being unmade. Everything he loves will be unmade. There is no hope.

Ronan wanders the ship like this, in a daze, with nowhere to run. He whispers prayers under his breath, choking the words out around the black bile in his throat:]

Ab hoste maligno defende me.
In hora m-mortis meae voca me.
Et iube me ve... venire ad te...

HE ATE MY HEART (closed to noah czerny)

[Ronan returns to his room when he has no choice, when monsters begin appearing and he's finally forced to pack his few belongings. When he arrives, he finds Chainsaw in a deep sleep, curled up in a nest of blankets and peacefully motionless. The sight drives despair straight into his heart, confirming something he thinks he knows is true, but he places her safely away and prays for a cure. Somehow. Even if it's the last thing he dreams before he dies.

That done, Ronan sinks onto the edge of his bed and wipes away a trickle of black blood seeping from his nose. He'll attempt sleep soon, but not yet, because it might be the last time and because it doesn't feel right. He looks around the room, searching the air for a glimmer of something. He doesn't find it, but he calls out anyway:]

Noah..?

[Dying alone would be terrible.]

ISN'T IT IRONIC? (closed to joseph kavinsky)

[The buzzing stops abruptly the moment they leave the timeslip. It feels as if it's been in his head for years, and the silence that follows is nearly as disorienting as the demon's presence itself, because Ronan has been hearing that damn thing for so long it takes a while to find his own thoughts again.

And then he realizes the ship is crashing.

With the PacDisc in tow (and Chainsaw inside it), Ronan breaks into a run for the evacuation pods. As he races toward them, it dawns on him that he's late. That the halls are empty. That everyone else might well be gone. He stalled for too long and he's been left to die in this inferno. He runs faster, muscles straining, heart thudding in his ears. He will not die in this place.]

I'm Joseph Kavinsky!! (cw c word)

[pillz]

[and that is when the call rings in to the device on his wrist. kavinsky's id, an uncharacteristic voice call instead of text. even kavinsky sacrifices his habits when he's in the middle of a shipwreck.

if not, apparently, the habit of waiting around to see if ronan is going to turn up for the pyrotechnics. it's a throwback to a shirt time, but given the current shit, the fact kavinsky is still here means something better than nothing at all.]

Hey cunt!

[kavinsky's voice is bright. there's horrendous structural groaning in the background.] Where you at? Been keeping it warm for you.

solid snake | ota

[soldiergenes]

i. let's do the time warp (again)

[ It's one hell of a view.

It makes sense, in a strange sort of way that makes Snake wonder if he's been out in space for too long, that skipping through time would do this. There's no way it could be as simple as what they show in the movies where you just hit warp drive and go rocketing across the universe.

He's made his way up to the observation deck, not able to turn his gaze away from the birth and death of stars and planets taking place what seems like right outside that thick glass. There's nothing that could make someone feel smaller, less insignificant, than this. Part of him keeps looking for any sign of Earth, even though he's not sure he wants to see his only home vanish in the blink of an eye.

Still, it's like watching a train wreck. Kind of hard to look away.

Sometimes he'll glance down and see that one of his hands has changed, all wrinkled and mottled, a stark reminder of when his entire body had been aged. Then, just as soon as it happened, it's back to normal again. He lets out a grumble, shakes out his head, and goes back to staring through the glass. ]

ii. he ate my heart

[ Snake had chosen to wait until the very last minute to pack all of his weaponry, and now he's extremely grateful for that instinct.

It's not that he had known they'd have another attack on their hands, exactly, but a soldier like him isn't that willing to put away his guns, even for a few days. If being on the Moira has taught him anything, it's that you never know what curveball might be coming next, and the influx of monsters from the Ingress is almost routine.

Except for the part where some of these things are downright horrifying and he's never had to fight enemies quite like this before.

Still, they need to be put down if any of the crew is going to get through this last push alive, and Snake's hoarding tendencies end up paying off. Due to past rank rewards and mail drops, he heads out from his room fully equipped: a hand gun, a tranq gun (not that he thinks he'll be needing that), an assault rifle, and a bottle of instaheal means that he's as ready for this onslaught as he'll ever be.

During the first wave he'll be doing his best to flank down monsters, to come up behind them and get a few shots off before they know what hit them. By the second wave he'll be looking a little worse for the wear, splattered in different colored blood, some of it possibly his. But he doesn't seem like he's going to slow at all, either.

Maybe the monsters are new, but the rest of this is all-too-familiar to him. ]

iii. isn't it ironic? don't you think?

[ Well, if this isn't a terrible case of déjà vu.

The emergency evacuation notice blares from every inch of the ship, and Snake initially finds himself running in the opposite direction of the emergency transporters. He's already dead on his feet from all the monster hunting, but despite that he's running at breakneck speed, back toward his room. He'd made sure to lock Jaegar up tight during all the fighting, hoping that none of the monsters would actually break in to try and harm the dog.

When he bursts in and finds that Jaegar is completely unharmed, Snake's chest loses some of that tightness, but his heart's still pounding as hard as ever. He doesn't bother to leash the dog, just grabs for his pack ("magically" filled with all of his belongings save the weapons he's got on him) and then races back out with Jaegar at his heels.

While he'd managed the small amount of piloting necessary to get him to safety last time this happened, he'd also been able to set the transporter down in water. He's not sure he'll be so lucky this time, and so even as he heads for the evacuation area, he's got his eye out for anyone else headed the same way (and there's bound to be plenty of them, even if he'd had to make a detour). He can admit that he'll probably stand a better chance if he isn't doing this on his own. ]

iv. ground control to major tom

[ Somehow, against all odds, Snake survived that mess. Granted, he also survived a one-on-one fight with both a tank and a helicopter, not to mention going toe-to-toe with a "vampire" and a woman who no bullet could hit, but...

The Moira sure as hell isn't coming back from this.

Once again, Snake makes sure to leave Jaegar somewhere secure before he heads back to the burning wreckage, not sure that there'll be any chance of finding survivors. His MID isn't being much help on that point, which makes sense given that the Moira had probably powered it. All the same, it seems wrong not to at least look in case by some miracle someone's still alive and just trapped under debris. Or, more morbidly but more realistically, find dead bodies. That'll have to be part of their head count too.

Snake's covered in grime, blood, and soot, with a gash at his forehead that he doesn't even remember how he got. It doesn't matter much now. He can still walk on his two legs, and he's not sure that'll be the case for everyone else.

He won't say no to some help in the search, and if he spots any sign of life among all the rubble, he'll be running over immediately to investigate. Yeah, they made it to their destination, but at what cost? ]

v. wildcard

[ If you want something that's not covered by these prompts, just PM me or hit me up over at demonology! ]

david bowie references- iv.

[alterplex]

[ Here's the silver lining: there are no bipedal robots to compound on the conflagration happening here, nor is there a burning revengeman on a flaming unicorn to make sure they all start doubting their thinly-stretched senses of sanity. All in all, not as bad as things can be.

Still, things are distinctly chaotic. The wreckage of the Moira is unstable, to put it generously, and bits of collapsed roofing and chrome framing groan under the pressure of fire and rubble. It's ill-advised to be here, to be sure, but where there's danger, there are Snakes— two of them now, apparently.

Covered in blood and dust, Venom pulls up from where half of a collapsed ceiling'd fallen on him (mercifully, a majority of it'd already been disintegrated thanks to Ploiatos) and blinks rust out of his eye, bionic fingers curling over warped metal to haul his weight out of a small mountain of debris. For all that he usually seems completely impenetrable, Venom is most accustomed to looking like he just came straight out of a blender— he wears the disaster well, hornlike shrapnel and all.

The important part to note here is that, despite looking like something straight out of a kid's nightmare, what Venom is holding in his remaining hand is an 80s music mixtape that he salvaged from the wreck, along with a charred cardboard box that miraculously made it through thick and thin.

Don't get it twisted, he's also here to lend a hand if he can— but there are some things that are worth keeping. ]

...Nothing else to see, back there. [ He finally says, wiping dirt from his mouth with an equally dirty forearm. ] No one else, either.

Nathan Drake | mostly OTA

[sketchycharacter]

[Let's Do the Timewarp]

[Things are rapidly getting fucked up.

They can't arrive at the Midway Hub fast enough, because to Nate's eye, the Moira is rapidly growing uninhabitable. He has to watch where he steps now to make sure he

doesn't fall through the deck, and something in the very air itself seems wrong. It feels like the ship is dying.

The insomnia isn't welcome, but he wasn't planning on getting a lot of sleep anyway. He uses his PacDisk to gather up all his things and goes around from department to

department, offering what help he can, and checks on his friends to make sure their preparations are going well. And when he's as set as he feels he can be, he goes

for a visit to the observation deck to look at the stars for what might be the last time. Excecpt he sees more than that—he sees flashes of himself and another person

he knows well but older, making an expedition through the jungle. And then it's gone.]

Sam...?

[ooc; OTA but he's open to viewing glimpses of people and places in time from existing CR's worlds.]

[He Ate My Heart]

[Things are now fucked up.

Nate is glad as hell that he didn't pack up the weapons and ammunition he's picked up on various jaunts over the months, or the gun belt he brought with him. The Moira

has erupted into chaos, hallways swarming with monsters, and he recognizes some of them. Discretion is supposedly the better part

of valor, but whether that's true or not, Nate fucking runs.

But there's only so far he can run, and there are others who can't run so easily. He joins in the fight, defending whoever needs help, and looks for Elena, Sully, the kid and the kids because there's no way in hell he's letting them get eaten or whatever.

[ooc; feel free to join Nate in fighting creatures from his canon, yours or another!]

[Isn't it Ironic? - Closed to close CR]

Come on, come on! We've got to go! There's no more time!

[Every man for himself? Not quite. He's more than ready to evacuate, but not before he sees his loved ones are safe.]

[Ground Control to Major Tom]

Well...fuck.

[Everything seems to go slowly in the aftermath. Probably Nate is in shock. He's injured, bruised and bleeding in a few spots, but not critically, so he does make his way to medical once it's established, but somewhat reluctantly. Others probably need help more.

Once he's seen to and he knows some of who's made it, he gets on his feet again, making rounds, seeing what people need. He tries to help. What else can he do?]

He Ate My Heart

[prorenataa]

[ It was still in the first wave, hadn't yet turned over to the second wave, when Adrien would have his own demons to face; literally.

Rather like hearing a familiar name at a cocktail party Nate's face, even in the shadows and shielded by the an attack of Decendants, caught Adrien's attention. They were ... some seriously creepy looking creatures.

After taking a split second to consider his options, Adrien drew his handgun and went for a headshot. Hey, most things tended to be vulnerable to a good headshot ... right? ]

Nate? Who are your new playmates?

riptide / ota

[knaval]

a. it was a good idea at the time

That-- that's Cybertron!

[riptide wanted to watch the show, and he's currently pressed up against the glass, watching some of the planets.

even if he only knew it as a war-torn wasteland, he recognises his home.

if you're near, riptide will point.] Look! Do you see that fireball? I think I was born there!

[he sounds... weirdly excited.]

b. it's a free ride when you've already paid

[the moment the ship starts to twist and shriek, riptide makes sure his scanner is operating at maximum capacity. he'll go to where there's a large amount of organic life, making sure to help where he can. maybe he'll lift you and put you back in a less dangerous place, maybe he'll literally use his body to shield you from danger.

depends on how it goes down, really.]

c. planet ??? is ??? and there's nothing i can do

[sitting next to bumblebee's cryo pod, riptide groans, pulling his knees up to his chest.]

Ugh... ship crashes, not doctor recommended...

[his repaired guts definitely did not like. riptide puts a hand on bee's chamber, watching the ice slowly melt around it.]

You better not have liquefied in there...

d. wildcard

[you know how this works lads]

????????

[harderfasterwrecker]

[ And in what seems to be a frequent thing for them, Whirl drops down out of the air with very little preamble, kicking up a ridiculous amount of sand in the process and probably being a very sudden and terrifying vision in blue. Whirl himself doesn't look too much like he's been bothered by the crash. Or maybe he has. He's scuffed up, but that lack of a face makes things a little hard to tell when he's got his optic wide and overbright. ]

Oh look. There's Mini-bee.

He's gonna be so mad when he finds out he missed all the fun.

[Despite saying the word "fun" Whirl does not have the tone of voice that means fun. Ah. So bothered it is.]

Pharah

[justice_from_above]

A) Open - Timeslip

Pharah had enough of seeing her home without context back during the rifts, and does her best to avoid them here. It's not quite that easy, though, and when she does catch a glimpse, she's in danger of loosing herself to the moment. She becomes twitchy and nervous, still trying to go about her duties and maintain her routine, but the timeslip leaves her edging into paranoia.

She startles easily, looses her train of thought, and possibly grossly misinterprets things that are said to her as she tries to justify her own life with the abnormal press and passage of time around her.

B) Open - Monsters

At the very least, she is able to pull herself together in time to face the monsters.

It's a good thing Rey was able to fix her jump jet. She still wishes she had her rocket launcher, but even without it her Raptora systems offer good protection against the monsters. She'll be stalking the ship, trying to take out as many as she can, and looking for anyone that might need a hand in escaping them. There's a certain gleam in her eye - a gusto with which she throws herself into this task.

Walking into the unknown was her favorite part.

C) Open - Landing

Once she's landed on the Midway Hub, Pharah redirects her focus on trying to help find and unite other passengers. She follows the trails from other pods; smoke wafting into the sky, broken trees, deep furrows in the Earth. She listens for yells and uses her aerial superiority to scout out possible landing sites.

Closed - Lúcio

While Pharah's been more confident going up against most of these creatures, she's not exactly a match for all of them. After a brief entanglement with a super pissed off, abnormally strong gorilla, she disengages and attempts escape to recollect herself. It's hot on her trail, though, and she starts wondering if she could lure it into an airlock and send it off into space.

She rounds a corner and immediately stops, though, seeing Lucio - and a moment later registering the giant metalthing standing just past him.

With the gorilla closing in behind her, she knows they don't have a lot of time to act.

"Lúcio!"


Closed - Ana

Of course, through all of her adventures she had never once stopped keeping an eye out for her mother. Capable as she may be, Pharah worries, and there is a part of her that is in constant fear she will lose her mother again. It wasn't anything she wanted a repeat of.

There's obvious relief once she does locate her, outside the gardens, Pharah letting out a grateful breath, her shoulders sagging slightly out of a tense rigidity.

"There you are."

They were safe - for the moment - but Pharah knew it was no guarantee things would be staying that way for long. "Have you been staying busy so far?"

A.

[alterplex]

As someone who occasionally has his bouts of regression into a false reality, Venom knows how to spot the signs. Disassociation in a time of crisis isn't uncommon, but from what he knows of Pharah, he's fairly certain that she wouldn't want to be caught unawares by anyone who she doesn't explicitly trust or feel comfortable with.

Venom doesn't exactly include himself within that circle, but he has spoken to Pharah enough times to take it upon himself to step into her line of vision, assert his presence, and put his palm lightly on her shoulder.

"...Pharah."

A name, first— nothing too complicated.

venom snake | open-closed wombo combo

[alterplex]

[ A : LET’S DO THE TIMEWARP WHILE YOU EAT MY HEART. ]

[ Despite the ever-evolving conditions of the ship, this remains a constant: cyclicality is dangerous. In this case, it’s the intolerable cycle of insomnia-adrenaline-combat born from timeslip conditions that inevitably chips away at Venom’s decades-long, carefully cultivated shield of impenetrability, running him ragged-dry as if he’s just spent the past two weeks in enemy bunkers, head lowered against sniper fire. He can’t remember the last time he’s closed his eye and slept, really slept, and he understands the inability to calculate a meaningful moment of rest as a cautionary sign that he needs to give his body a hard reset.

After all, it hasn’t even been that long since they’ve entered foreign waters, so to speak. There’s no logical explanation for why time feels as malleable as it does, which is why he needs to regroup. Reorganize. Reassess.

Unfortunately, life is never that easy. You’d think that the temporal bullshit going on would be enough of a trial without all the screeching monsters jockeying for attention all over the halls— no such luck.

Exhausted but alert, Venom braces on his heels and aims, with his rifle, for the nearest gremlin-creature trying to bite a chunk out of his leg. His aim doesn’t fail him, and the thing crumples onto rusted linoleum with a bullet clean between its eyes… which isn’t the issue here. The issue is that the recoil of his gun suddenly feels a lot stronger than it should (launching him right back into feeling like a greenhorn, a rookie, a new recruit with ill-fitting fatigues, infuriating—), sending it right out of his hand and skittering at his feet. Or someone else’s feet.

Feel free to pick that gun up for him and ask him what the hell, or, whoa, are those more gremlins coming Venom’s way??? Bail him out, kind sir or madam, or maybe just watch him get chewed up a little; no big, no big. ]


[ B. I’M FEELING VERY STILL, AND I… ]

[ Rest in pieces, the Moira.

After reconvening with certain individuals that Venom absolutely needed to, and after digging through fire and rubble, Venom finally breathes again. The air is arid and his throat feels like hell, but this is something he finds intimate and familiar: molten metal, ashes to ashes. Catastrophe is the one thing he’ll never need a refresher in, and even when his limbs feel numb and everything is burning, he realizes, again, that this is the kind of world he belongs to.

He’d told Kaz that he’d be alright (he always does— his XO is one Diamond Dog he never wants to disappoint), but he settles down on a broken piece of rock, tired to the core…

…and slips right off of the fucking thing to land heavily on his side, shoulder to dirt. Not exactly glamorous or put-together, but he fancies that no one is watching; his dog is his only witness, and pads around him worriedly while nudging at his bionic arm.

Venom grunts, and tries to pull himself back up. Feel free to help him, or take a pic of this dumb old 50 year old struggling against gravity.

It’s been a long week. ]


[ CLOSED TO JESSE PINKMAN: THAT IS IT, GUYS, THAT IS ALL. ]

[ So, it turns out— some of these monsters pack a mean punch. Sure, Venom has the benefit of combat training on his side, but there’s only so much one can do against alien species that seem intent on subverting Venom’s expectations of what a bipedal creature can or cannot do.

That preamble is a setup to, well, this. Venom is slumped against the wall, sliding slowly down into sitting position to gauge the damage that his most recent fight’s inflicted on his leg. There’s a hefty claw embedded into his calf, along with a smaller but trickier fragment that he knows he won’t be able to take care of without another pair of eyes to assist him. What an inconvenience.

Breathing through his nose, he pulls out the first obstruction (a minor puncture wound, nothing he can’t deal with) and tosses it to the side, where it rattles by one unfortunate Jesse Pinkman’s shoe.

Venom tips his chin up, eerily focused (as if he’d been prepared to train the barrel of his gun on anyone approaching) before he eases down from his ‘fight’ instinct. ]

…Long day. [ He’s bleeding all over the floor as he says this. ]


[ CLOSED TO KAZUHIRA MILLER: ALL DRIED UP IN THE DESERT SUN. ]

[ It’s no small amount of chaos that’s raging on in the Moira, and it’s 1975 all over again. If Venom could remember, he would recall the lurching sway of platform struts as they gave way to cracking foundations, the smell of oil and fire, the shift in gravity, the cold grip of disbelief turned to anger—

—but that isn’t productive, especially not in his current battered state. Déjà vu can come later, when there aren’t things to be done.

He winds through ruined halls and steps over what are presumably gremlin corpses (cleanup on aisle everywhere), tracking his own blood on the floor from where he’s bled through his hastily-wrapped bandages. It’s only when he sees a familiar beret that he stops, holstering his gun to call for his friend. ]

—Kaz. Better get moving. [ A tilt of his head. ] …Where’re the dogs?

You nerd you typed wombo combo

[warandpeace]

☄ ALL DRIED UP IN THE DESERT SUN

[Kaz is only uninjured because he has body parts that can't be injured again. Oh, they can hurt. But he can turn them off, reconstitute them, and jam them first into enemies to protect his real ones. He's been fighting and scrabbling his way through and taking advantage of the one bonus he has- those artificial limbs.]

[Yes, it is funny how much he hates them. Yes, he will continue to scowl whenever he's called out on it.]

[The ship is shuddering and rocking and he has to make it back to his room to grab a weapon and, yes, the unfortunate animals that are hiding there. Mama's probably terrified even if Joy can take the danger like a champion, brave soul that she is. And like a blessing in uniform here comes his Boss through the residue of chaos. One less person to worry about.]

Snake!

[Oh. He's hurt.]

[Spoke too soon.]

Come on!

[He reaches out for him.] We should have killed that thing earlier. Rinzler gets to enjoy being right I guess. As much as anyone can enjoy this.

[mttbrandlegs]

A. Temporal Fixation

The positive part about the science-types figuring out how the Ingress worked and using it to optimize the Moira's travel speed was that they were going to get to the Midway Hub faster. It meant that Mettaton would get to go home.

He both wanted, and did not want that though. Because if he went home now...could he really go back to it so easily? Would he be able to pick up his old life again, having met all of these new people, forged new relationships...

Well. As it turned out, Mettaton didn't have much time to worry about it, because as soon as they entered what had been referred to as a "timeslip," the robot began to notice strange things outside the ship windows. It was a little hard to miss, actually, since he rather enjoyed spending time on the observation deck. It wasn't just stars out there though. Not anymore.

Mettaton's gloved fingers pressed against the glass and he stared at events unfolding. Things he could remember--like leaving Waterfall, becoming a star, Frisk defeating him, and eventually being on the surface. But...it wasn't just things he was intimately familiar with. There were other things.

He lost himself to watching events play for the longest time, even the ones he wasn't familiar with. It's apparent to anyone who walks by that some of what he's seeing is upsetting, if the way he covers his mouth intermittently is any indication.

But...Mettaton doesn't speak.

During all the time he stays at the window--hours and hours, days if no one disturbs him, the timeslip's physical effects do not spare him either. His EX form shifts intermittently to something more offensively-geared, one hand becoming a canon and his shoulder pauldrons large and pointed. His hair ends up spiked, revealing his opposite eye.

Other times, it will be his more familiar EX form, but clothed in lavish material and sporting jewelry and gold. He looks like a royal, even.

Either way, he's glued to that glass, staring at past, present, future, and all the strange scenarios in between, unless someone cares to interrupt.


B. Tipping the Scales

Eventually, Mettaton can't bear to look at the scenes outside, at which point he begins to wander the Moira, looking increasingly distressed. How could he not be?! He's seen things that he doesn't understand, things that never happened but that he knew could. Papyrus had proven it himself, by all but admitting that Frisk had killed him.

Mettaton wants to be angry, he wants to cry...but instead, for whatever reason, he decides to do neither.

Much like he had done for some months earlier, he puts on a smile and ignores his problems.

This time, it's different. Mettaton isn't doing a good job of lying, as he would usually do, and instead his efforts come off incredibly transparent as he attempts to strike up conversation with anyone who passes by and ask them mild questions about how they feel concerning this timeslip, asking if they're tired, how their day has gone...

Should the scrutiny be turned to him, he'll insist he's perfectly fine, with a crooked smile and an averted gaze. It's best to let him labor under that delusion, because even though it is a lie...Mettaton will not accept any thoughts otherwise.

If anyone at all argues with him, he's bound to threaten them, both with his posture and with the way he talks to people. It's not very much like him, but the manic way in which he's behaving should be enough to prove that.


C. Keep Up, Darling!

If there's one thing Mettaton's good at no matter his sanity level, it's hurting things. And rather than fight with himself about what that meant regarding his identity (something he'd been worrying about for months), the robot's decided to say fuck it all. He roams the halls, expending what energy he has to fight against any ill-intented creature he comes across.

Not every fight ends in a death, but several of them do. For his part, Mettaton doesn't seem perturbed by that, and although he isn't looking for one-on-one fights with the hoards of invading creatures, he is looking for individuals being troubled by said monsters. No matter how big or small, he steps into the scene like he's the main attraction and offers his assistance:

"Looks like you could use some help!!! Shall I dispose of this for you~?"


D. Wildcard

[OOC: got an idea that's not in the prompts above? Feel free to tag with something different! If you would like me to make you a personalized closed prompt, hit me up via PM or Plurk (Grimmkitty)!]

A

[pleasereset]

Asriel hadn't spent too much time on the observation deck, though they've caught glimpses of strange visions in the windows of the Moira. Asriel didn't understand it - some of it was kind of frightening, and some of them looked vaguely like home...

Well, he's here now. And he sees... Mettaton? It's unmistakable him, but where did he get that canon from?

"Are you trying a new look? ... Heh, sorry. I wasn't trying to interrupt. Howdy, Mettaton."

When Mettaton turns around to look at Asriel, the boy hasn't been spared from physical changes either. There's a gash across his face, old wounds along his body that look like they were left there by spears and arrows.

He doesn't seem to notice them.

[poolhall_killer]

[Divide My Heart He Ate my Heart - The Garden]

[The air's been getting heavier, and it's making Venom rather antsy. The announcements don't help at all, so he's gathering his meager belongings, stuffing them into his cue case (including the toy pickles). The cue itself is staying out and assembled, because something isn't right... other than the whole rotting parts of the ship thing.

The garden is his next stop as he starts gathering some samples and coaxing Bartholomew to come out of hiding. Poor thing must be terrified. He gets a piece of fruit, and that's when he senses it.

It's a Gear, though it's roughly the size of a human. The cue's drawn, and he's ready to fight.]

Let's Break.

[Ground Control to Major Tom]

[Venom's still shocked that he survived such a horrific crash. His cue case suffered some damage, his plush pickle jar cracked, and his book is fine. Bartholomew's breathing, but he suffered a few injuries. The former assassin's nursing them the best he can, trying hard to remain calm and casting healing magic to mend the cosmetic wounds. He's ignoring his own injuries (and the blood that came with them) in favor of helping his companion.

If anything else happens to his friend, he won't forgive himself. It's one thing to take a human life under contract, but Bart's an innocent creature. All he's worried about is the bat's well being.

He approaches one of the tents, hoping to get assistance.]

I'm sorry to bother you, but could you examine my companion?

[Wildcard]

[Feel free to hit me up with something else!]

major tom is here

[commontype]

[Eggsy figured he was in something of a state of shock. He was working still, had helped some of the others with getting animal and crew to safety, but now he was just going through the motions. He'd lost Harry and Harry wasn't waking up. It was the kind of thing he'd always worried about and yet, his mind still hasn't processed everything.

So he keeps busy. Checking animals and people in between, though Medbay don't need him so much right now.]

Bart, right?

[He steps close to Venom, tugging on a pair of gloves as he does.]

Tell me exactly what happened, yeah?

Shiro | OTA

[shiro2hero]

>> TIME WARPED
[Things got worse. Things got a lot worse. Quickly. He's been trying to keep tabs on his teammates and those he's befriended. And amid his usual insomnia... he hasn't slept in days. The effects of the warp are only making it worse. He's exhausted. Clearly so. But closing his eyes just isn't happening.]

[And when it does, it's like the nightmares just spring to life. Into something physical. Leering yellow eyes, bright lights stabbing into his skull, lungs full of dust and grasping hands from the dark.]

[It won't be uncommon to see him jerk away from nothing, eyes wide and striking out at thin air with glowing fingers.]

[It's during one of these apparent hallucinations his face shifts wildly. The scar across his nose alternating between fresh, blood like a curtain down the bottom half of his face -- old, healed, as it is now -- and nonexistent. His hair follows this cycle, occasionally all black, or sprinkled with grey. It all shifts like looking through a funhouse mirror as he moves, panicked, against an enemy only he seems able to see.]


>> WE WHO FIGHT MONSTERS
[It's stupid to fight on this little sleep. But no one ever said he made sound decisions where his own health was concerned. The hallway is suddenly too full. A towering, spindly form tilting its head as it stares him down. And Shiro facing it with armor on and glowing fingers.]

[It doesn't look like anything he's seen before. The screaming noise almost paralyzes him as it suddenly lurches forward, seeming to teleport. Which, puts an unfortunate image in mind -- of dark forms, flitting around a room, holding him down, pain ripping through -- ]

[It's a terrible time for a flashback.]

[The creature strikes him hard enough to send him flying down the hall, smashing painfully into the opposite wall. But he's on his feet in a moment, wavering for a moment before launching forward, striking back with glowing fingertips that seem to cut through alien flesh like butter. There's a streak of blood at the corner of his mouth, and he's favoring one side, but...]

[For now, he's holding on.]


>> CRASH LANDING
[He shouldn't be on his feet, probably, after everything. It doesn't matter, though, because there are people to evacuate. There are teammates to see to. However injured he's been, he's not going to stop until he makes sure the others are safe.]

[But regardless of who you are, an armored hand might settle on your shoulder, tugging toward the nearest escape pod.]

Come on. This way--

[Whether or not he actually stays put or continues on is anyone's guess.]

>> WILDCARD
[Anything else? Hit me up!]

monster mash

[knaval]

[riptide rudely interrupts shiro's fighting by just. scooping shiro up and holding him close to his chest.]

Get some rest. None of them can hurt you.

[to punctuate, he flicks them away with a finger.]

Reinhardt

[grandpaladin]

>> HAMMER TIME (ota)
[Monsters? Hah! He can handle monsters. Things popping out from the vents are one big game of whack-a-mole. Especially when you have a hammer like his. And armor. True to his word, Reinhardt has kept his armor on, and online. The old man doesn't seem to have any difficulty smashing his way down the halls, stopping now and then to help someone out of a tight spot.]

[It's not until he runs across something as big as he is, as heavily armored as he is, that he stops, shifting his grip on his hammer.]

[And beaming.]

Well then! A challenge!

[Please stop the battle grandpa from using his Earthshatter ability on the looming Big Daddy. Or help. Either way.]


>> EVAC (ota)
[Reinhardt refuses to take this evacuation lying down. He's gathered everything he can think of in his PacDisc, and that accomplished, is now busying himself getting people to safety in the escape pods once again.]

[It feels familiar. He wonders how many times they'll go through this.]

[If necessary, he will bodily haul someone to the escape pods. He's big enough to.]


>> EVAC (PHARA)
[... speaking of hauling people, and of familiar situations...]

[He's looking for Fareeha. And Ana. But most likely Fareeha. Both he and she are alike in a lot of ways. Including selflessness. But he refuses to leave her behind again.]


>> WILDCARD (ota)
[Hit me with anything! Post-Crash, he'll probably be somewhere in the rubble, whoops.]

you know what HAMMER TIME

[happyclappyhippydrippy]

[Look just don't mind Drift whizzing around the corner in his alt mode and accidentally slamming straight into this thing you're about to fight, okay Grandpa. He doesn't mean to be a kill stealing asshole. Actually, he doesn't sound too happy about it. He skids to a halt and slowly starts driving in reverse away from it.]

Oooh no, did I just hit someone? Oh, I hope I didn't just run over a human...

[This is already going well. The thing might not even be dead. It is a mystery.]

[iattractmushi]

A: TIMEWARP

The visions flashing by outside the windows are... disturbing, to say the least. Ginko does his best to ignore them, turning his blind side to them whenever he can; it doesn't completely block them out, but it helps. He still sees a flash of white hair here, a vaguely familiar shining-silver pond there, a little girl with crutches, among other things... it could mean anything. It doesn't matter, if it's not real.

It would be a little better if he could at least sleep for more than a few hours at a time, but he puts his wakefulness to good use. He checks up on the few people he knows from time to time, and otherwise he's mostly in the medbay. At least there there's nearly always something to keep his hands busy and his mind off of... things.

B: GROUND CONTROL

He's a little banged up from the landing, not to mention all the things that happened before the landing, but that doesn't matter now. Nothing's broken, nothing's life-threatening, and he's bandaged the worst injuries. In his very professional opinion he's fine. Anyway, he can collapse later, when everything is calmer.

So he'll be seen picking his way through the rubble as quickly as he can with only a slight limp, helping those that can walk to the medical tent, and treating those that can't as best he can on the spot.

C: WILD CARD

[Hit me with whatever you like!]

a

[wallride]

"Hey... Ginko, was it?"

Lúcio approaches him carefully, more than aware of the horrors he could've seen in the timeslip.

"Everything okay? You look a bit lost."

lúcio / overwatch / ota

[wallride]

a. m-m-monster mash

[it's pretty clear lúcio is exhausted and has been kicked around a fair amount. he has his healing beats, sure, but they work slowly and can only do so much. he's covered in splatters of blood - not all of it is his, but it's enough that he'd probably get arrested if they were still on the mini colony and he went near anyone. despite this, of course, he's still skating around as best he can, trying to help anyone he comes across. the best help he can offer is the effects of his sonic amplifier, so he switches between the energy boost and the healing boost fairly frequently.

when he comes across one of the wider areas of the ship that seems more like a battleground, he realises it's not enough. he continues skating at full speed, then abruptly skids and jumps, slamming his amplifier into the ground near the moira crew he'd spottted.]

Let's drop the beat!

[green energy radiates out from where he hit the floor, empowering anyone it hits. luckily not the monsters!]

b. as the plane crashed down he thought "well isn't this nice"

[by the time the ship has crashed and everyone's evacuated (he hopes), lúcio is exhausted enough that he ends up leaning on the outside of the escape pod for support. the healing beats are still going, even if the noise has been starting to drill into lúcio's head, making it almost unbearable.

he's unsteady on his skates (which thankfully don't require much additional balancing) as he starts off towards anywhere that looks like it might have anyone.]

Hello? Anyone around here?

[he cups his hand around his mouth and yells. then hisses slightly; there's a couple of nasty gashes on his left arm from where he caught the claws of something pissed off, leaving it hanging uselessly by his side.

it's gonna be a long night.]

c. wildcard

[hit me up lads]

crashing and burning

[culver]

[Nill's escape transport had been one of the last off the ship, so when the Moira had gone down, the unlucky vessel had been caught in the shockwave. The pilot had managed to land--mostly. There's definitely a fire burning as the crew exits the ship, hacking and coughing from the smoke. Nill holds her little bundle of items close to her chest, dazed, but quickly recognizing a familiar voice that had spoken over the radio so many times.

Blue eyes fall on Lúcio and her brow crinkles in concern. Wings fluttering, she rushes over to him. That arm does not look good.]

Zam Wesell | OTA

[backsassin]

we used to play pretend, give each other different names (timewarp)
[Zam’s never heard of a “timeslip” before. It sounds important. It sounds dangerous. More relevantly, it sounds like something that will disrupt Zam's sleep and as luck would have it, it is. It’s why she ends up heading towards the Observation Deck in the middle of the night, hoping the sight of stars slipping by will lull her to sleep.

Except when she gets there, the ship’s not in space at all. It’s on a planet -- and in an arena? Zam stares, dumbfounded as she takes in the sight of carnage around the ship. Elevated above the scene, she can see dozens of bodies littering the ground, some human and some droid. Blood and oil seep into red sand. Why have they stopped here? No, how had they even landed here? Zam’s eyes cast around in confusion, searching for some clue in the scene. Whatever battle had taken place here is clearly over. Armored soldiers are already dispatching damaged droids and seeking out their own wounded, paying no mind to the ship landed in their midst. Zam steps forward, uncomprehending -- and then a spot of blue amidst the red catches her eye. There’s someone in a blue uniform stumbling into the arena, unarmored and small and--

And familiar.

Zam’s eyes widen in disbelief and she takes yet another step closer. That’s him. The boy she’d last seen begging to go to Coruscant with her and Jango, what feels like a lifetime ago. And now he’s walking through the arena like a ghost, not even seeming to notice the bodies piled around him or the soldiers still swarming the scene.

Zam’s fists find the glass before she even knows what she’s doing, trying desperately to get that familiar face to look up, to get him to run.]

Boba!

goodbye is just too good a word (evac)
[It’s not the first time Zam has cut and run. It’s not the first time she’s watched a place she has every right to hate grow smaller and smaller outside a starship window. It doesn’t stop the cold feeling from settling into her stomach as the transporter takes them away from the crumbling vessel that’s been her home for more than a year.

She knows it won’t be like the last time the Moira crashed. The ship is very literally falling apart, ripped to pieces by forces she barely understands. There will be no repairing it this time.

She speaks to no one in particular, still watching the worsening wreck with steady attention.]

So. This is really it, isn’t it? [A pause as if she's churning it over in her mind.] We aren't going to be able to go back, are we.

[It doesn't sound like a question.]

bye bye byeee

[brokeassgoing]

[he hasn't spent his life with his head tipped up at the stars, too busy watching what was in front of him instead of up, up, up.

today is different. He'd almost fucking died getting off this thing.

The voice at his side doesn't bother him. just brings it all home]

Nope. There's no shovin' over on the liferaft this time, Rose. We're fucked.

Hawke | Dragon Age | OTA

[otiosity]

Let's do the time warp again.

[Hawke is transfixed by the window. The changes in the time warp haven't affected her body, thankfully, but perhaps what they conflict on her mind is worse.

She stands silently, unusually grim, as she watches her beloved city, Kirkwall, be engulfed in a blast and tears apart the chantry and rains toxic debris across the lower parts of the city. Red lyrium explodes from the ground tearing apart streets and buildings.

Is this what Fenris and Dorian meant? Is this really the future? Everything she worked so hard for, even if she never wanted to shoulder that burden at all, destroyed because she trusted the wrong person?

She sees other visions. Herself, in the mountains, a tall dark haired woman standing over her and the sky torn apart and raining demons and chaos. Her hand burns green like the sky. She leads a group of people, including Dorian, against the sea of demons. She remembers what Dorian told her, "Cassandra wanted you after all".

What was this? A vision of a future never come come.

It might be good to pull her out of her stupor. It doesn't look like she's eaten or slept in days.]

He Ate my Heart

[So the ship is being attacked by monsters. Typical. Or at least not outside the realm of bad shit that happens around here. What is unexpected is the appearance of a Fear Demon on the ship. It gives her pause. Had she done something to draw it here? Had her actions in the arena called forth demons? Possibly. She can't pretend it doesn't concern her. But someone's got to do something about it.

So she knocks back a Lyrium potion and decides to go to town. She's not wearing her armor. Just the t-shirt and leggings she's grown accustom to wearing and her staff.]

Are you ready to dance? Haven't gone up against any demons recently. A break since leaving Kirkwall. This will be fun!

[And so off they go. Hawke moves like she was born to fight. It's like a dance. She darts and dodges, flips and rolls, around the demon, firing off blasts of electrical magic. She appears to have almost bested it when it manages to catch her in the chest with one of its arms and slam her bodily into the ground. Her staff goes sliding across the floor.]

ʜᴀᴡᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ᴍᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ. ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀ ꜰᴀɪʟᴜʀᴇ

Well, now that's just rude. You forgot to mention I'm very attractive and charismatic to boot.

[She tries to reach for her staff by stretching out her arm. Nothing. She grabs the demon's arm and sends a pulse of electric magic through it. It screeches and then slams her down further with it's other arm.]

ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ. ᴛᴏ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴀꜰʀᴀɪᴅ ᴏꜰ. ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜰᴀɪʟᴜʀᴇ ᴏɴ ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ. ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ.

Could you back off? Your breath really smells.

[She manages to choke out despite the best intentions at crushing her lungs. She looks around wildly to see... someone, YOU, in the corner. Her eyes connect with yours and then she gives a quick nod before turning back to the demon.]

Please. Ser Demon. ...Messere Demon? Oh, did my best to be polite. Don't kill me. I'm not even wearing armor. It's just an unfair fight. You'll never be able to brag about it to all your other demony friends. It's like kicking a puppy.

[Now's your chance! Go, fight, win! And don't let the demon kill and/or possess you. Good luck!]

Ground Control to Major Tom.

[Demons? No problem?

Small escape pods to someone who has bad motion sickness? Many problems.

Hawke is currently doubled over with her hand braced against a large rock outcropping near one of the escape shuttles. Her faithful dog, Kitty, is wagging is stub of a tail and looking up at her cheerfully like it's all very funny. She scowls at him.]

Oh, well I'm glad you're having a good time. And I can't even call you a bad dog. Not... fair...

[She gags and doubles over a little harder. What are people doing over there gathering? Doing a head count? Something?]

Ah? No positions left? Nothing more to do. Wonderful I'm just going to. [She slumps against the rock and sinks to the ground.] Sit here and keep watch over this rock. Might be a bad rock.

[She exhales and runs her hand over her face as she sinks into a crouch. Then she surveys the burning wreckage of the Moira in the distance.]

Maker. We're fucked.

[The dog happily barks in apparent amusement.]

((ooc; I am open for anything! If you want to tag the Fear Demon thread and have the demon come after your character please go for it! Otherwise if you want anything else please hit me up at bowtie))

Closed to Nathan Drake

[otiosity]

[Hawke is sick of these goddamn demons on this goddamn spaceship.

The battle with the Fear demon had left her tired but pleased with herself for winning a fight that she had never engaged in on her own before. Fenris was right, she was a sight on the battlefield. Her staff rests on her shoulders as she walks down the hallways, always on alert these days. Or as alert as Hawke ever is.

Then she stops dead in her tracks. In front of her is her sister. Just like the day she last saw her alive. Down to her deep brown eyes and think wavy hair.]

Bethany?

[It's a sputtered response. For one of the few times in her life, Marian Hawke is on edge. Her "sister" smiles and replies "Sister, I haven't seen you in so long. What's going on? Where are we?".

Maker. Even her voice is exactly the same. But she can't be here? Can she? While she frets, Bethany walks towards her.

"Sister, it's so unusual for you to be so quiet. Are you alright? Have you caught a cold again? I've told you to be more careful." Hawke steps backwards and raises her staff.]

You aren't my sister. Begone demon. Or you will be gone. Because I'm going to kill you.

[Her sister's eyes go wide and she steps back in fear. "Sister. Why? I'm not a demon. You're being ridiculous. Is this another joke?" Hawke herself pauses at the question. The way the lips are pursed and the brows furrowed it's... Bethany. It's exactly Bethany in every way. But it can't be her, it can't be...

A blow to the side of her head catches her off guard and she collapses to the floor. As dark spots flash in front of her eyes, she sees Bethany standing above her, staff raised, looking frightened. Hawke had let her guard down. And now she was going to pay for it. She struggled to roll to her knees. But the blow had been powerful]

ɴᴏ. ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ, ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴᴛʀʏ ꜱᴀʏꜱ ᴡᴇ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ᴋɪʟʟ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴꜱ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴋɪʟʟ ᴜꜱ.

You're not Bethany.

[She spits the words and suddenly the creature is on her. For a second she sees it's true form, white monstrous, not human. And then it's Bethany again. Bethany kneeling on her chest, pressing her staff into her throat.]

ɴᴏ. ɪ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ. ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴜɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀɢᴏ. ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴍᴇɴ. ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʜᴇʀ. ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴀᴅᴏʀᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ. ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɪʟʟᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴇʟꜰɪꜱʜɴᴇꜱꜱ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ɪᴛ.

[Hawke sputters and tries to roll away. But she can't deny it. So she is reduced to a prone position on the floor, struggling once again against everything that she does her best to keep away.]

adam jensen | deus ex | ota

[hanzer]

» HE ATE MY HEART

["This isn't typical," one of the crew had reassured everyone. A few months ago, Adam might've believed him– but given everything that's happened in his time aboard this tin can, he's finding it a harder pill to swallow.

But likely or not, whatever it is that's going on here is impossible to ignore. Especially when it's in the form of a part-machine, part... Something or other. The hulking mass of bloodied flesh and steel cabling fills the corridor nearly from floor to ceiling, where it seems to be in the process of digging its way to China – wrenching out rotting pieces of the ship, exposing vulnerable wiring and mechanisms to its jagged, rusty claws.

Adam can be found just around the corner in the corridor adjacent, back to the wall with pistol in hand, looking especially grim (even by his standards) which... Probably has something to do with the fact that he's got only a sidearm to help him against something that looks like it eats lead for breakfast. When someone approaches, he motions them down with an urgent wave of his free hand: keep behind cover, stay quiet, and don't panic.]

That thing's going to cut our little voyage short if we don't do something about it soon. [An expectant look at his new companion, which quickly turns into a grimace – one with varying degrees of intensity, depending on how promising a combatant they appear.] Not gonna be able to take it down by myself.

[Not for lack of trying, if the impressive gash drawn down one side of his face and the way he's got one gunmetal-black hand gingerly bracing his ribs are any indication. Second time's the charm?]

» HERE I AM SITTING IN A TIN CAN

[Another crash landing – always good to keep things new and different. But somehow he doesn't think the Moira's going to walk away from this one.

A few hours after the ship goes down, after the flames from the wreckage die out, Adam's out there with the rest of the straggled survivors. Perhaps he's searching for the inevitable dead, or trying to dig out some much-needed supplies, or maybe he's even found a survivor beneath the rubble – either way, something's got his attention. And with the particular sort of resolute doggedness only acquired after hours of running on fumes, Adam throws himself into the task of rescuing whatever it is from beneath the rubble, pitting the exacting, precise mechanism of his Sarif-built arms against the crushing weight of hundreds of pounds of sheet metal and steel girder.

Only problem is: he's spent. Might not want to admit it, but it's obvious that with his biocells running as low on juice as they are, something's gotta give– and eventually it does, with a rather audible screech of metal twisting against itself, as what little charge there'd been in the artificial myomer muscles of his legs suddenly disappates. Unsupported by muscle, the lightweight alloy framework standing in for bone quickly gives way and Adam spits a wordless swear, flinging his burden away before he drops it right back on top of the thing he's trying to rescue.

What pain there is is only momentary– quickly silenced by his limb's receptors once it breaches normal thresholds. Small mercies. Servos in the knee are totally blown – the aug equivalent of a torn ACL. An easier fix than the organic version, but no less of a pain in the ass. He moves to tentatively place weight on the broken leg (if it doesn't hurt, then what's the problem, really?) and almost instantly, comes within a hair's breadth of absolutely eating shit.

Great.

So he takes a knee, trying (and mostly succeeding) to not look as angry as he feels, focusing mainly on taking that nascent emotional reaction and crushing it down before it can coalesce.]

Just had those replaced.

[It's humor, if strained– meant as much for himself as for whoever might be around to witness him. Ha ha, but no, really, he could probably use some help walking back.]

» WILDCARD

(( hit me up with whatever, or pm me to this journal or arcanebarrage if you want me to come up with something specific! ))

HE ATE MY HEART

[psychadrellic]

[Thane had seen the Brute prior to being flagged down by Jensen, and had been very close to giving it a wide berth - until, naturally, he had noticed his friend also in the creature's vicinity. Whether or not to join him hadn't even been a question, although the stakes with a Brute about weren't particularly favorable.]

What was your first clue?

[Even as he asks, he's holstering his SMG to get at his supply of medigel. While he's always been very thankful that both of his guns remained with him during his trip through the Ingress, he's never quite appreciated their presence here before quite like he is appreciating them now.

Although neither the SMG nor the sniper rifle are particularly well-suited for taking on a Brute, they're definitely better than nothing.]

Most of its armor plating can be shot off, but don't bother aiming for its longer arm. Its head and backside are the most vulnerable, although it will use its arm to protect the former.

[At this point he pauses his infodump to holds out his hand, ready with a blob of medigel aimed for Adam's ribs. Whether they're cracked, or merely suffering a simple flesh wound, the viscous substance will stabilize the area and promote healing regardless of organic or synthetic status.

(It sure had been an interesting day when they'd discovered medigel was beneficial to geth.)]

Please move your hand.

isha devan // ota

[diamondhack]

gaping wounds

[This again.

All over again.

The others are coming and going in age. She keeps her distance, fighting her way through the ever-shooting pain, the way her body keeps warping and pushing against the prosthetic. Every so often, she has to stop and bite back nerves wracking and fraying within her body. It doesn't work very well, though. The utter, blinding devastation of her own arm working against her makes her collapse more than once.

Leaning her back against wall, and refusing to fight at all, she crumples onto the floor, one knee propped, the other outstretched. The skin on her back rips open, seals shut, rips open again, old wounds from the days she thought she could fight back in ways unimaginable. Back when she was stronger than this. Back when she would laugh at the glass piercing back, despite the tears that threatened to fall down her face.

Blood is smeared down the wall. The prosthetic twitches uncontrollably as it constantly readjusts to a body it was never intended to have in that moment.

How bloody pathetic, she can only think, as she sits on the floor, wills herself to be nothing and no one. Q, all the while, simply watches her, whining, unable to do anything but to be there for her.]

crash and burn
[Back on the ground again. The few things she did salvage from the wreckage in the sky are nothing to what she would've salvaged as her usual thieving self. A pack is strapped across her chest, stuffed with clothes and some toiletries. A pair of heavy batons, sinister, sleek black, stick out from the pack. The ropes from a supply drop have found their way onto her hips, lashed onto a belt and hanging ready for use.

The upper part of her stealth suit is unzipped and hanging at the waist. The tank top is soaked with blood on the back, absorbing the last of the reopened wounds.

The reading of the captain blips out, and honestly? She doesn't seem to give a damn about it. There's an darkened edge about her, obscured by black round sunglasses. This is more than simple unhappiness with the state of affairs.

This is sheer incompetence, putting everyone at risk.

Logic dictated that she go seek out medical aid, and logic forced her feet to move to that direction. She remains silent, though. She can only watch people come and go as she tries to clean blood off her knuckles and hands. That much she could do herself, at least. Critical injuries had a priority, after all.]

wildcard

[The whatever you want]

[sketchycharacter]

[Nate's been out and about for what feels like days now. Maybe it has been days—whether it's the time distortion or just being incredibly busy, he couldn't begin to guess. The Moira itself is no longer safe, but all anyone can do is locate the safest places on it, get people there, and defend them. Nate's been doing that, his distress building with each person he sees injured.

When Q's whining catches his attention and he spots Isha on the floor, blood smeared behind her, he's downright horrified.]

Isha! Ish, hey.

[He sprints to her side and drops to his knees immediately, hands reaching out to help her. None of what's going on is good, but the sight of a friend, someone who gets him, looking so grievously injured sends a real lance of fear through him.]

What happened, where are you hurt?

76 | ota get at me

[mylawn]

time slippin

[It doesn’t take a genius to understand that this isn’t going the way it’s supposed to. 76 has never been to space before this, much less tried to wrap his mind around inter-dimensional travel (or whatever this is supposed to be), but even he knows this is not right. He tries not to pay attention to the things happening right outside (whatever they are), and gets to work instead.

Against his better judgement (and mostly unable to sleep, though that isn’t anything new), he wanders the deeper halls of the ship, every fiber of his being tense, expecting a new threat around every corner.

Hopefully it isn’t you.]

monster huntin

[Though he’d certainly prefer it if the ship wasn’t spontaneously swarming with hostile creatures, fighting is something he can do. Better than something he can do—it’s arguably the thing he’s best at, and he has the arsenal to actually make something happen.

Doesn’t mean securing a perimeter is easy, but he’s always liked a challenge. He’s not opposed to team-ups, at any rate, and will often fall right into step with a potential ally, whether personally acquainted or not.

Or maybe—]

Not that way.

[This huge dude in full tactical gear with the equally huge gun is pulling you along, whether you like it or not. Whatever is around the corridor is likely unpleasant, and closing in fast, if his pace is any indication.]

evacuatin

a. before
[76 has never really bothered to figure out just how many people on this ship are civilians, but he’d wager that it’s substantial. Civilians aren’t trained for emergency situations like this, which means someone has to make sure that everyone gets out okay.

If you want something done right, you should do it yourself, after all.

Being the paranoid SOB that he sort of is, he’s been ready to go since day one, fully anticipating something like this eventually. All that really means is that he can spend his time helping other crew members—you, perhaps? He’s not, however, nice about it.]

Come on. Move.

[It doesn’t really matter what you’re in the middle of—here is this guy, urging you onward with his very best military commander voice, especially if it looks like you’re having trouble with all your stuff.]

b. and after
[He’s alive—and so is the crew, astoundingly (he assumes, anyway). That doesn’t mean clawing out of the wreckage is easy, and he spends the immediate aftermath of the crash a little shell-shocked. 76 expected something like this to happen sooner or later, but now that it has, there’s not much to do right now but pick up the pieces.

It’s sort of nice to be a genetically-enhanced government experiment in these kinds of situations. Are you stuck in rubble? He is here, being a super soldier. Injured and need a lift? Hope you like being potato-sacked.

Generally, he’s pretty good at helping out and lifting heavy things. Really heavy things. He might even lift a heavy thing for you, if you ask him nicely (or otherwise look like you’re struggling with your heavy thing).]

wildcard

(I’ll do whatever the heck you want. Hit me up on plurk at whitticus!)

monster LOVE

[gainedlove]

Wha--

[It's pathetically easy for 76 to steer Frisk onto the right path--they're too startled by his sudden appearance to fight his grip on their arm, and the spongey halls have done their work again. Frisk is tired, confused, and they still haven't fully recovered from the blasting of new memories into their skull from just a few days earlier. But they do have enough wherewithal to recognize the warning flags of this encounter.]

What's comin'?

[If they're lucky, maybe it's one of the ones Frisk has a chance of reasoning with. They don't think they can get 76 to just * Flee if it isn't...]