pineslog | ( june event ) who's that pokemon?

Option a.)

[Laura has had a lot of pent-up feelings, since Logan vanished. It only gets worse when she wakes up the morning of the 19th and feels every muscle on her grow tense with the lingering fear behind nightmares that aren't truly nightmares; memories from her life — her real life — begin to trickle in through out the day. She skips school again (again, because it's more and more normal to skip now that her father is MIA).

She wanders the edges of the forest, restless, angry, confused. She should tell her sister, or someone she trusts, but she just can't. She couldn't. Remembering is... awful. Knowing her dream of her father is real? Is awful, heart wrenching, and she angrily claws at some of the trees edging the town with a red face and tears on her face. She only calms when confusion strikes her — on one tree she's about to slice into, there are already slice marks.

It confounds her. She runs a thumb along it, wondering if there's someone else like her out here, cutting into anything she can that isn't human.

But then the screams happen as she starts home.

Shadows pass around her. Her nostrils work wildly and her pupils constrict.

...So that's what the screams are.

Laura will be making a call out to everyone in an attempt to warn them of the creatures, but it's much too late to spare most people from the sudden attack. You may be in the process of getting attacked right now — but perhaps you're fortunate to have Laura around. Indeed, just as the beast moves to slice you apart and consume you, there's a wild feral scream, a battle cry, before Laura comes flying off the nearest roof, or maybe off the top of a car, to land on the thing's back.

She'll start wildly slamming her claws into the thing's neck or throat, blood spraying everywhere.

.... Hello.

I'm your frightening helper.]

Option b.)

[Maybe you'll find Laura in the midst of battle as it is. Maybe she's accidentally cutting through and knocking over a light post after slashing at one of the horribly fast monsters. Or maybe Laura might need your help; after all, she's quick, but she's not someone who can run 30 miles an hour; indeed, she's a little in over her head out in the open, and it would be wise to drag her back in to safety.

It may seem too late, to your character; she may be under one of the beasts, getting slashed apart, blood splashing the asphalt or grass or cement. Despite what they may think, she'll walk it off, no worries. Just give her a moment to compose herself, you know?

... She just may need a new shirt.]

early: [ If anyone would notice when all the birds stop singing, it's Kal. Not just because he's used to catching little details like this, has far too many years of noticing the unnatural to miss it, but because he can tell that it's all of the birds instead of a patch here or there. And that's what has him heading for his locker, pulling out the black and white costume that he'd been handed back on his first day back in town.

It has him listening further, catching the additional heartbeats with something very much like a chill before he walks out of the firehouse dressed in what some people might think of as ridiculous pajamas. But then the scream sounds-

And when the first blood hits the air, he smells it. Smells it with a heart cluched and his fists clenched as he makes a decision and pushes himself up into the sky. He's not sure this is a job for Superman, but it sure as hell isn't something he's about to sit back and watch.]

around town: [ Where is Kal?

Wherever he's needed.

At first, he'd used his heat-vision extensively, since it seemed like the creatures were very averse to the heat and the burning, more so than the physical beat-down he might dish out. He still packed enough of a wallup to send them fleeing with their tails between their legs, but the fire in his eyes was something else.

...then he'd taken a look at the DNA of one of the fallen and almost been sick.

Now, though, he's responding to any call for help, any scream of pain or anguish or fear he can catch in the cacophony. The creatures noises are an interference that he's a little too rusty to work around easily but it's not too hard to find people who need the assistance when he heads to the air. Less with the heatvision, now that he's seen that they were at least once human, that there's a kind of semi-sentience to them. But he doesn't pull his punches much; these things are vicious and if it's between the peaceful people of this town and the monsters trying to feed on them, there's just no competition.

So if you see a perhaps-familiar gentleman with a potentially familiar symbol on his chest flying through the air and punching creatures hard enough to literally put them through buildings, well... he'll deal with the consequences of that later. For now, he's working on saving everyone he can. ]

shelter/supplies (earlier): [ At first, Randel doesn't want any part of this, any of it. The scream sounds out and he closes his eyes, closes his ears, and starts closing the shelter early because he can just feel it, the tension in the air, like a battlefield before the first shots are fired. The scream... he wishes he didn't know what it was, what it really was. He wishes he could think it was like any of the other screams, but there's something in his gut that tells him different.

He knows a signal when he hears it. And the creatures that pour out from the shadows confirm every fear he might have had.

And the thing is, the thing is that he knows he's a coward. He knows what he should do, what he'd do if he was back in his own world, the real world, the world he's been running away from his entire time here. He knows that there's a lantern on his hip and that the switch is his to flick. But he can't quite do it yet. He can't quite let go.

If anyone needs food or shelter, he has it, at least right now. ]

TÖTEN SIE! (around town): [ Randel didn't want to do this.

Randel never wants to do this.

That's why he'd gone to the hospital. He'd hoped he had the right idea, but of course he hadn't. And he'd hoped he'd learn something useful, but all he'd gotten was more questions and greater fears. But while he was trying to make his way back to the shelter, the inevitable had happened: he'd been attacked.

And the lantern had been opened.

The creature hadn't expected the massive shears to slice through it's arm. It also hadn't expected to feel the barrel of a massive handgun against it's forehead.

Though it'd only felt it for a second before the trigger was pulled and it's brains were splattered across the pavement. The next one didn't come for him. He'd gone for it, his anger and his frustration, his heart and his soul screaming as the blood spattered against his face. He didn't know if it was his or the creatures; it didn't matter, ultimately, as long as the thing died.

It died. The next one died too. All of them would die, all of them, kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill Töten Sie Töten Sie Töten Sie TÖTEN SIE!TÖTEN SIE!TÖTEN SIE!

Was he bleeding? Probably. He might even be dying. But it doesn't matter, it would never matter. There was an enemy before him. There was something that needed killing. There was a battlefield, the only place he was useful, the only place he could do anything, where he knew how to function at all. And even broken as he was, this was at least something.

He would kill until there was nothing left to kill.

He would kill until something managed to kill him first.

So if you see a blood-covered monster with hollow eyes, a handgun as large as a sawed off, shears like something out of a nightmare? He won't save you. But he might just kill what's trying to kill you. ]

aftermath: [ You might assume from the massive wounds all over his body, cuts reopened, nasty gashes in more than a few places, a stab wound or two, a broken arm... well, you might assume that the giant man is crying because he's in pain.

And you'd be right. As long as you don't think it's the physical pain.

Because he's mourning the dead. He's mourning the monsters. He's mourning all of the blood on him, the blood in him, the blood in his nightmares, and all the new hands reaching out of his guilty conscious to try and drag him to hell. He's mourning the feeling of safety, a feeling that had been on it's last legs, but now... now it's gone. It's gone and he feels like he's a child again, listening to his father, begging him not to kill, never to kill, and that only makes it worse. Everything makes it worse. Why should he ever expect anything to ever get better? ]

Edited 2017-06-19 07:06 (UTC)

a: First screams | Near the pool party, at the beginning

Iris had thought this would be her chance to take a break. Things have been... well. ‘Not good’, to put it simply. First the accident, then the trickle down of memories that made her realize exactly what happened to Clarus back home, then the failure in the barrier when she had been camping… there’s just a long list of weird stuff going on. So she had thought a pool party was the best way to charge batteries, to go back to her old self, to see the glass half-full.

But the only thing attending the pool party accomplished was that she is now running around trying to defend herself while wearing a cover up over a swimsuit, which is definitely not ideal. She’s not fighting the creatures, not yet anyway, she’s simply trying to reach the next house over to try to find something to defend herself with, bit doing so while trying to dodge the invaders is proving to be pretty hard.

“Take cover!” She will yell to anyone in her way, possibly while jumping over them. But if whoever gets on her way looks weak or like they can’t defend themselves she will definitely go out of her way to try to protect them or bring them somewhere safe.

b; Gonna kick some pokemon ass | Around the city, the first day

Once she’s managed to get to her house and change clothes… well, she’s not going to just sit and wait this out. Not when she saw so many people in danger, so many people who couldn’t defend themselves. She’s not a fan of projectile weapons- she’s not a fan of weapons at all, but it’s very clear her fist aren’t going to help in this situation. So she made do with what she found in the kitchen.

She’s carrying some knives, but she doesn’t seem to be jumping to attack the invaders carelessly. She was trained as much as her father would allow, yes, but part of that training is knowing when you shouldn’t jump into battle recklessly. Especially when you’re on your own.

“Hey!” She will yell (or whisper, if the person is hiding) to anyone who seems to need help. “Come with me! I’ll show you a safe place.”

Sadly, as the night goes on she becomes more tired... which in turn makes her more and more reckless. It’s only a matter of time before one of them got a hold of her, and eventually she lets out a pretty loud scream as one of them hit the back of her leg during one of her parkour-style jumps over the invaders. Luckily for her the invader seems distracted by attacking someone else so she manages to run slash crawl into a hiding place, but if anyone spots her... it’s very obvious she’s in pain.

“I… may need a little help.” She tells to anyone who approaches.

c; The other kind of shield | The hospital, after the first night

After that no one will allow her to go back to fighting the invaders, and she respects it. It takes her a few moments, but soon she’s just as determined to help in the safe haven Cain and others had set up in the hospital as she was to fight against the monsters.

She’s slow, her leg is all bandaged up and sometimes she will need to grab the crutches, but overall she isn’t letting most people see how much pain she’s in and she keeps trucking along.

“Are you hurt? How can I help?”

June 19th

ʜᴏᴍᴇ (ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ: ʟɪɢʜᴛᴡᴏᴏᴅs)
[Magnus is certain that the only reason he senses that anything might be wrong is because he's home, close to the wards he'd been slowly weaving into the walls of the house ever since receiving his spellbooks. There's a shiver in the periphery of his awareness as something brushes against the invisible barriers around the property, not trying to break through as much as gently testing the wards. Normally, he'd write it off as some sort of wild animal, especially when the birds go quiet in the trees, but there's something not right about the presence.

It's not until he hears the screams that he's on his feet, his book left behind as he reaches for his phone to call Alec and Izzy. He splits his focus between dialing and weaving through the house, descending into the basement for a weapon even as he murmured into the phone while listening to it ringing on the other end.] Pick up, Alexander. Pick up.

sᴛʀᴇᴇᴛs (ᴏᴘᴇɴ: ᴍᴇʟᴇᴇ/ʀᴇsᴄᴜᴇ)
[Once the message goes up that people are heading to the hospital for shelter, Magnus along with the Lightwood siblings decide to join them in hopes that they'll be able to do the greatest amount of good for the most people possible. The only problem is that the hospital is literally as far away from their home as it's possible to get in the small town, which wouldn't be much of a hassle if it weren't for the packs of murderous monsters picking off anyone stupid enough to be on the streets of the town.

Unfortunately, Magnus is one of those stupid people. He's running through town with a very definite goal, but that doesn't mean he won't stop to help anyone in obvious need of it. Offering a hand, quite literally for those who might have fallen, he'll give a tight smile.] Are you alright? Can you make it to the hospital? We'll take you there.

[Half of the time he's wielding a guandao, as long as he is tall with a wicked blade on the end. But even when he loses it somewhere in the fray on Main Street, he can be seen casting magic in direction of any intruders. He'll be relieved once someone tells him about their weakness to fire since it's a specialty of his.]

ʜᴏsᴘɪᴛᴀʟ (ᴏᴘᴇɴ: ᴘʟᴀɴɴɪɴɢ/ᴅᴇꜰᴇɴsᴇ)
[Finally making it to their destination, Magnus is quick to find those who have been put in charge of defensive strategy. He figures that someone must be organizing the operation, given the network announcement, but finding anyone to guide him in the midst of the chaos taking over the hospital is difficult at best. He keeps getting sidetracked or slightly lost thanks to the sterile white sameness of everything. After some moments of frustration, he catches someone's attention.]

Excuse me, do you know who's organizing defenses? I can help, but we need to hurry.

[Though he could offer himself for offense, he has enough experience and strength in him to put up magical wards around the hospital, ideally in the form of tamed fire that won't spread beyond his control. Such a large area would require all of his concentration to raise, let alone maintain, and he'll need somewhere quiet to work if he wants to hold any kind of useful barrier for more than a couple of hours. He might even suggest sectioning off a smaller wing of the hospital for everyone to retreat to, decreasing the range of territory everyone needs to defend and patrol. Once he finds anyone remotely in charge—the name Roman is floating around—and given permission to continue, he'll be too focused to defend himself lest something sneaks inside during his preparations.]

June 20th

ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ (ᴏᴘᴇɴ)
[With the intruders retreating in long enough stretches of time to let down the strongest of their defenses, Magnus turns his attention to healing anyone in need of immediate medical attention. He knows that he needs to conserve what strength he has, and he really should be using this time to restore his energy, but there are people in dire need of assistance. Luckily, he can tell the difference between a shallow cut and something potentially fatal, and he'll do his best to stop any bleeding and infections even if he can't make wounds disappear entirely. He also, unfortunately, isn't sparing any strength to minimize the pain of mending broken bones or stitching skin back together.] This is going to sting a little, dear.

ᴡᴀʀᴅs (ᴏᴘᴇɴ: ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ᴡᴇɪʟᴅᴇʀs/sᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟs)
[On the second day, Magnus' strength is flagging. Though he's been able to draw from both Alec and Isabelle, he needs more support if he's going to be keeping up his portion of the defenses around the hospital. He looks slightly gray as he wanders around, checking the wards but also looking for any source of strength that might allow him to stay useful for just a little while longer. There are sparks of energy in some the people around him, though he can't identify specifically what they are for some reason—he chalks that up to how exhausted he is rather than anything stranger that might be at work. All he can tell is that certain people have extra energy, most likely supernatural, that could be useful now that he's running low on his own magic. For those sparks bright enough, he doesn't have enough shame to stop himself from asking for help.]

Apologies for being so forward, but you wouldn't happen to know magic, would you?

[He might also put out a request for help, either through Alec or Roman, with an emphasis on finding people who are able and willing to lend Magnus a bit of their strength when necessary.]

June 21st

ᴇxʜᴀᴜsᴛɪᴏɴ (ᴏᴘᴇɴ)
[In the morning, Magnus collapses. He's already been forced to rest when possible by an over-protective husband, but he's weakened to the point of passing out entirely due to both physical and magical exhaustion. Unfortunately at this point, no amount of strength lent to him will restore his ability to raise wards, or really do anything other than not die. Hopefully his timing isn't terrible because his wards will be useless without him able to function as a direct source of power for them. Once he regains consciousness, he tries to struggle to his feet to get back to his post but will ultimately wobble and, if he manages to stand, slump against the nearest surface.] How long was I out?

ᴄʜᴏᴏsᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇ
[What it says on the tin! Magnus is available for action anywhere in town during the 19th but will be confined to the hospital for the remainder of the event.

( see starters below )

Around town. Early 19th.
[ Roman is being stupid, and he knows it. Given the chance, however, between being needlessly safe and distressingly reckless, he'd rather go with the second because reckless doesn't mean the same thing for him as it does for basically everyone else in the whole town. All it means for him is potential downtime before he'll come back and carry on.

That's a lot of what he does while he makes it across town. Finds someone, or is found by the monsters, fights back, gets varying levels of injured, recovers because immortality has nice perks sometimes, gets back into the fight. Over and over again until his brain finally finishes forming that plan he was considering.

That said, he could do better during an invasion of degenerate monsters than just a steak knife he grabbed during the pool party. He could definitely do better than swim trunks and a loose tank top that's already got some rips and shreds to it from working his way through the monster crowd. Doesn't matter overall. He's going to push his way through and listen or look for anyone in need of help while on his way across town. About halfway there, more sense kicks in and he hotwires a car parked along the sidewalk before flooring it to the hospital. ]

Hospital. 19th-22nd.
[ Once he's there, Roman takes charge. Not that there aren't problems here, too, but instinct and faint memories and just vast amounts of nebulous experience spur him to work with what feels natural. He works with anyone who's already there, starts forming plans, reaches out as soon as he can, and gets the place in order. Thankfully he also ends up with jeans and a scrub shirt. Look, it's important, okay???

He doesn't know everything, but a united front is better than keeping the town scattered in small, easily-decimated numbers. For the rest of the invasion, he's more or less found in varying states of awake and exhausted while trying to keep the perimeter safe, people with all their unique skills organized, and maintaining as much calm and rationality in the building as he can. Bother him at your leisure, really. ]

Edited 2017-06-19 23:26 (UTC)

.• wanda's prologue ( tl;dr )

[ Once upon a time, she was the monster. A "witch" is the most highlighted words her returned memories had given her, the witch who could only destroy all that was around her with a wave of her fingers. She'd hid her tricks, avoiding any red glow from her hands while in this town, in an outreached attempt at not bearing the same reputation she had worn in her past. But then the true terrors arose, angry nightmares storming through the town in what felt like the speed of a hasty breath. One by one, they clawed at the innocents, glass-shattering screams following after every strike. Just like her fingers could make red, so could these creatures. Except, while she could create wisps of light, they could only bring about blood —

She marches into the streets, waving her hands to call forth her magic. The waves of energy that flow from her fingertips float through the air towards the shattered debris of destroyed doors and fences, picking them up with a simple thought to crush together into a thickened shield of boards. It isn't meant to be unbreakable but as the invaders rush towards running civilians, she tosses the various concocted pieces in front of the creatures. It won't stop them but it's a temporary obstacle for the sharp claws, allowing the innocents to make their escape, to have enough time to stop being targets.

Time and energy become things she stops trying to count and measure as it becames an endless game of using her magic to push them away, all the while running for cover during every opportunity she's able. As far as Wanda can tell, their interest in her is little. The magic doesn't seem something they're pleased with, but there's still plenty of defenseless flesh for them to tail. She doesn't know how long she's been at it, only that she can't stop. Even with harsh breaths, she conjures up spell after spell. Distractions, distractions, she thinks, all in hopes to let people escape, to give people time to run.

There are faces she recognizes, but there's little chance to chat in the midst of the fighting, not a single second wasted to pause. Except for one —

It's the familiarity of silver hair, the blurry sight of a zipping figure. Pietro is fighting them, as she would never doubt he'd attempt to do. He was always the stronger one, she believed, but perhaps it was more than he was just the most stubborn boy, always barging into battles whether he was able to win them or not. Even now, with a pipe in hand, hopelessly waving it around madly, trying to sneak hits from behind.

But even with his speed, he sometimes never paid close enough attention to all that went on around him. Because the claws (the claws) she sees them make a rushing swipe at him, sharp nails closing in towards his neck.

— she can't lose him, not again, not again, he almost died once, he was dead once, no, twice, pietro, no, not my brother, please — ]

.• wanda's rescue ( open )

[ Wanda screams. A wide span of red light escapes from her fingers and speed fast at the creature, one end curving around the neck, the other around the arm that reaches out for Pietro, and in her mind, she pulls, merely by a thought, by an instinct.

She hears the harsh cry of the creature as its arm rips from its body, but soon the head follows, the rough pull of the neck tearing it separate. The others stop in their tracks, their eyes fall on their fallen brother only for a second before they fall upon Wanda. Out of breath, she stands there, her legs frozen with a concoction of drive and fear, eyes wide as she looks upon them all.

They begin to move and she thinks, for a brief moment of imaginary victory, they're leaving, it's done, this was a message, she thinks, but she knows she's a fool immediately. Because just as her heart pounds brutally in her chest and her mind stops, there's suddenly more than she remembers. In front of her, beside her, behind.

( a ) The one right before her is large, scraps of wood pierced in its skin with little bother to it. It crawls on all fours, walking over the bloody corpse of its kind, with death in its eyes.

( b ) Several in the buildings on either side of her heard the deadly cry from before. They slip out of doors, out of windows, settling on their next target.

( c ) From behind, she can hear more at the other far end of the street, clawing at broken debris and fallen corpses, fighting cheap obstacles. It's hardly enough to slow them down.

( d ) Even from the rooftops, she can feel the piercing glares from above. With her at the center of the street, a simple jump is all it could take to take her.

Of course they wouldn't leave. She was a killer. She was their killer. Such a threat couldn't be left alone. ]

( OOC NOTE: according to mod input, wanda's powerful magic makes her a big target for the creatures! if you're interested in helping her out from getting attacked, you can go for any of the options above. don't worry about doubling or mixing timelines! ♥ )

Edited 2017-06-20 00:53 (UTC)

June 19th

Fighting through Town/Rescue mission

[Alec knows that this is dangerous. They should hide in the basement and wait out the invasion. But that's something that any of them can do. Especially when Alec and Izzy were trained to protect the world from monsters and their safe little town is overrun with the kinds of nightmares Shadowhunters are supposed to defend Mundanes from.

There's a hint of various memories that spurs Alec on as they head for the hospital. Another town, a city, under siege. Max and all the children who had died during the war keep him moving forward, fighting as if he has his parabatai's grace and power. The blade in his hand glows brilliant white as if it's on fire. The long dagger in his other hand is plain steel but sharp and strong.

He always keeps his husband and sister in sight or at least in the range of his awareness, hacking through the monsters to make a pathway to the hospital. When he sees someone in trouble, he runs to their side, using the blades to either drive off or maybe even kill the monsters around them. He's not getting close enough to see if he's landed a mortal blow.]

We have to hurry. There's more of them coming.

Inside the Hospital

[Once Alec's sure that his family is inside, he makes sure that there's no serious injuries among them, and then he's off searching the building as quickly as possible. He's looking for whoever is in charge of defenses but he's also learning the layout of the building.

Occasionally he stops, waiting until he's noticed or until he isn't interrupting something that looks important.]

Do you know who sent the message to get everyone to the hospital? Roman Fletcher? My family and I can help keep those things out.

[He's not going to say 'monster' or 'demons' unless he's certain that the person he's talking to isn't going to freak out.]

June 19th and 20th

Hospital - Patrolling

[Eventually the monsters, whatever they are, are going to try to get inside. The wards and magic can only do so much so he's walking the lower levels of the hospital and even risking the grounds and rooftops to get a better grasp of the situation. When some of the stragglers come into sight, Alec leaves the safety of the wards, confident that Magnus' magic will let him through without harm.

The arrows he uses aren't his usual red fletched ones; these flicker with flame as he takes aim. Each arrow hits the target. If he sees the monsters are too close to the refugees, Alec moves with more than human speed, at their side in a blur, seraph blade flaring with pure white light.

As soon as there's no immediate danger, he scans the area and the person he's trying to get to safety.]

Can you make it on your own?

Hospital - Downtime

[His time in the hospital is becoming routine. He patrols the halls and ground regularly. At specific intervals, he goes to Magnus, offering what strength his husband will take to keep the wards powered. He makes sure to always look like he's not running on stamina runes and bad coffee, knowing that he might be one of the only people who can help Magnus keep up the magical barriers.

When he's not patrolling, he offers what limited help he can give. Mostly it's basic first aid or helping those who are exhausted or wounded to those who can care for them. Occasionally he stops next to someone who looks like they aren't in shock to ask questions.]

Do you need help?

[Towards the end of the night and into morning, his steps are a little heavier than usual, his movements more clumsy. Someone might see him mostly hidden in a corner or in one of the waiting rooms, slouched against a wall, getting what little rest he'll allow himself.

Someone may want to suggest that Alec should sit down or get something to eat.]

June 21st

After the Battles

[Once Alec's certain that the only thing wrong with Magnus is exhaustion, he grabs a blanket to wrap around his husband and then stumbles to a nearby spot to sleep off the weariness that even runes or magic can't dissipate. He'd still be beside Magnus if he wasn't certain that Izzy would yell at him if he tried to do anything that might allow Magnus to take more energy from him.

Someone may be able to wake him, but it's probably best to be careful since he'll still be in attack mode if he senses any sudden moves by anyone that isn't family.]

OTA all throughout the town

[Skye happens to be out when things go to hell. She hears the screams, and despite how many times she’s heard it by now, it’s still not something she can get used to. Then there’s more than one, and it’s suddenly a choir of screams. It’s clearly coming from the other side of town, which doesn’t exactly make her feel any better, but she does finish with what she had to do before she could go home.

That was cut pretty short when someone goes shooting past her yelling at everyone to run. Daring to look back in the direction they had just come from, Skye instantly realized why and instead of freezing up, she started running as fast as she could. She had never seen anything like that before, but it was very clear that whatever it was, was not friendly. She needed to get home and get her gun that came in the mail a few months ago.

Skidding to a halt when she sees someone frozen in fear, Skye quickly runs over to grab them roughly by the arm, dragging them if she has to, whatever it takes to get them to move. She can hear screaming in the distance and it isn’t long until she sees someone being torn apart. Somehow she manages to get the hell out of there without the creature paying attention. Or maybe it was just too distracted with its meal.

Finally at home, Skye slams the door shut and locks it, as if that will matter much. Grabbing her gun from its hidden place in her house, Skye is on the phone asking if anyone has any bullets that would fit her gun.

She would be a coward if she just chose to stay in her house, and she knew even there that she wasn’t safe. Which is why she goes back out once the coast is mostly clear. It’s not long before she’s using her gun one of the creatures to try and get them off someones tail. She offers help where she can, and is more than willing to team up with others.]

Closed to Mike

[She’s been fighting off these creatures to the best of her ability for god knows how many hours now and she’s exhausted. Not to mention she’s got blood and other bodily fluids on her from others she’s either managed to help save, or that she’s watched die. The past couple of weeks have been hell for her, with the incident at her mother’s party, and then her mother suddenly disappearing? Yeah. This is just the icing on the cake for her.

She’s managed to find a hiding spot now, as she had quickly realized that they didn’t seem to care about going into buildings. She just needed a quick break before she went back out there. You know, some time to cry and try not pass out from exhaustion and witnessing all of that terror.]

June 19th

The Wayward Boutique

[Izzy's busying herself around the shop, helping anyone that needs a hand, folding clothes, straightening shoes, sticking things on hangers, and arranging manequins. Basically, she's going about her normal day at the boutique, initially none the wiser about the impending danger. It's the screams, not one and not two, but dozens that put Izzy on alert. The fact that they can hear them from inside the shop obviously isn't good.

Never one to shy away from danger because of what she is, the petite shadowhunter moves to the door, heels clicking, and giving those around her reassuing nods and murmurs of 'I'm sure everything is okay, but let me just see what that was'. Once she gets to the door, though, it's far from okay. She's not sure what they are, but she can see the creatures on the roofs and surrounding them and they're not staying put.] Get away from the windows and the door! Go out the back! Move! [The order is out immediately as the shop phone begins ringing and Izzy beelines for it, ducking behind the checkout and trying to gather what the hell is going on.

Her pendant isn't glowing...so no demons, but that doesn't fully prepare her, either.

It doesn't take long to figure out that people are scared, in danger, and that she's got to do what she's capable of doing. First, though, she's got to get to her family--they'll work better together than not. So that's what she does, helping any lingering shop-goers as she goes, as well as anybody on the street.

By the angel, she's glad that she wore her bracelet today; the normally beaultiful silver wraparound bracelet is no longer dormant on her wrist, instead having slithered out into the whip form ready to lash out at the creatures necks, or whatever exposed tenderbits that Izzy can get to. She's not letting those things near her or anybody that she comes across along he way.]

Streets (Melee/Rescue)
[Crack. The sound of Izzy's whip slices through the air, a distinct difference from the various sounds of the creatures and the people that are being attacked. The sharp, stacatto sound is followed by a pained snarling that gurgles from the mouth of creature whose throat Izzy just sliced with her trademark weapon.

Her family is making their way to the hospital, but doing everything possible for whoever they can help along the way. Including this, saving someone from an impending mauling. They make quite the group, actually. And this feels...more familiar than a lot of things have so far.] Move! [Izzy winds up again, striking for another soft spot, this time engaging the electrical current, the buzz permeating through the air until zap! The smell of blood and burnt flesh greet Izzy's nose and she doesn't waste time, going for the final blow, another mixture of the one-two punch that is the sharpness of the whip and the electrical current that she wields along with it. The creature finally falls dead...smelling of charred skin and blood, but it's gone.

Turning her attention to the person now off the dead monster's radar, Izzy flashes a smile.] We're heading to the hospital, if you want to talk along you're more than welcome. [It's truly a shame how far she, and her family, live from the hospital, but...the distance...in this case is almost a good thing because of this.

June 20th

Hospital (Rummaging through the Chemicals & Experimentation)
[It's a shame that electricity hadn't been quite as effective as Izzy'd hoped. Still, her whip had come in more than handy on the trip to the hospital, but not efficient. Now that she's here, though, there's a plethora of supplies readily available. She's not sure what possesses her, exactly, to begin gathering and rummaging through the cleaning supplies, medicines, and all forms of chemicals that she can find in the hospital. If they can mix up a few different combinations it might help in the defense of the hospital, and they might find a quick and efficient way of taking care of the monsters.

At least that's the hope.

Izzy's got bleach, toilet cleaner, and several other bottles in her arms as she walks the hall. The click of her heels is only prominent in the quiet areas. She deposits the bottles in the room that she's currently working out of (feeling as if this is one of the best ways that she can help people at the moment); it's on the trip out of the room after more supplies that she spots someone standing there, her braid whipping as she turns to face them.] Hey, you looking for something in particular? [Her tone is friendly, despite the seriousness of the situation, though, she doesn't manage a smile because of that fact.] Or are you looking for somewhere to pitch in? I could use some help, if that's the case?

Hospital (Wee Hours, Downtime, and Musings...oh my!)
[Izzy's tired. She can't help it. She's been going since all this began and she still doesn't quite want to stop. Somehow...she's still on her feet...heels and all. The clicking stops only once she nears a door, peeking out the windows, but not even trying to head out.

She's tired, not stupid. And definitely not forming any sort of death wish. Like this she's not sharp. She wouldn't stand a chance. Plus, even though there isn't a monster snarling at the door...she knows that they aren't gone completely. Damned if she doesn't wish one would pop up, though.

Just one. By the Angel, she'd even take a piece of one...it'd help solve questions. Izzy isn't going to question her certainty in that fact, or the fact that she knows she could do something with that. She's too tired. Not so tired that she doesn't hear someone behind her. Leaving her arms crossed and remaining still, Izzy speaks, voice tired, a little husky, and not filtering herself.] I almost wish one would pop up now...it'd only take one to figure out a hell of a lot about them.

[Reaching back, Izzy moves to rub the spot on her shoulder that Magnus treated for her, more out of a habit, and because her entire back could use a rest, than it still causing her problems. She'll rest....eventually, but not right now, there's plenty more she could be doing...after she takes this moment, anyway.]

June 21st

Hospital (Post-Battle)
[Izzy's not quite dead to the world yet. She's pretty close, though. For someone that knows her it's probably easy to tell because of one detail: she has her heels off. She can do everything in heels that her brothers do in their comfortable shoes without much worry, or effort. However, after the past coupe of days she's just....done.

Her pumps are lined up next to her and Izzy's curled up, working her fingers through her hair to finally undo the convenient braid that she threw her hair into while she was running around doing whatever she could to help defend the hospital, help her family, or help those injured or needing another set of hands. Now, though, she's pretty much completely out of steam.

Working her braid out, and unsnagging the serpent bracelet on her wrist when it snags on her thick locks, Izzy takes in the various exhausted people around her, including her brother and brother-in-law. If nothing else, they all came together to protect one another, to defend their town to the best of their ability. But itdoes sort of...disrupt the idyllic nature this place had before. As her braid is worked out the curls escape and Izzy offers a tired smile to anybody who passes, approaches, or wakes up in the area surrounding her.

She can't wait to get home; with her hair completely undone the petite shadowhunter yawns, lips devoid of the trademark red color that she's famous for, wondering if she'll be able to catch up on some rest....especially knowing that despite the battle being over...there's still a hell of a mess to clean up.

When she wakes a while later, her body has shifted and her bracelet is caught in her hair. As she works the piece of jewelry free she calls out--to whoever might happen to hear/be near.] Can I get another hand, please? [She can't quite free her hair...or her wrist.

Fun, right?] Guess I shouldn't have fallen asleep in that position. [There we go, the tired, charming joke, despite everything. None of this can effect Izzy, though, she won't soon forget it. And now...there are some more questions brewing in the back of her mind.]

( early ) in town, fighting

❰ this is it. the other shoe has finally dropped. the capitol took their sweet time with this one — long enough even that katniss herself had begun to doubt. even after they took peeta from her to punish her subversion, such a transparently 'capitol' thing to do, she still humored the delusion that she'd been... what? lifted away to some far-off land?

katniss doesn't know what she'd thought.

but now they've shown their hand. now they've sent mutts. humanoid mutts — but they did those in the 74th arena, too. if the capitol's citizens are watching whatever mess this is quickly becoming, they're sure to complain about the repeat performance, however much more effective these seem to be. however quickly they brutalize their prey. maybe it's too quickly. she's made it just a block and a half from her home, and already she's seen four separate people torn apart at the seams and summarily devoured. where's the entertainment value in that? it's surely getting old already, and it's barely even begun.

which makes her decision to leave the safety of her home a pretty stupid one, really. she's not sure what possessed her to do it. the breaking of glass from a neighbor's windows, maybe, or the way they screamed while they were eaten alive. katniss refuses to sit and wait for that to happen to her. so now she's creeping along the line of houses, as flush with the buildings as she can manage, taking excruciating care to make each movement silent. she's not been noticed so far, and she has no plans to change that.

until suddenly, she does.

one of them sprints past the shadows she's hiding in. it's chasing someone, and at this range, katniss can't justify just standing by and watching the mutt take them down. in the next moment, she's nocked an arrow and sent it sailing to lodge into the creature's back. ❱

Get out of here! ❰ she shouts, not at the mutt but at the person the mutt was chasing as it lets out an abrupt plaintive screech and skids to a halt, eyes turning on katniss now.

needless to say, she takes off running the other way. ❱

( mid-battle ) in the woods, climbing

❰ maybe you heard her reply to roman's call. maybe you just heard the commotion, the ragged scoff-like shouts of a creature in sore likelihood of being thwarted, coming from a whopping fifty feet up a tree not far from the river.

peering up that tree will reveal one of the monsters in pursuit of a slim teen girl, bow and quiver slung over a shoulder as she scrambles up the tree about as fast as she can. the creature's pretty agile, but the trees are dense and the spaces between the branches are narrow, so she's managing to keep space between them so far...

but eventually, katniss is going to run out of tree to climb. ❱

( dusk ) in town, bleeding

❰ the battle's over.

it doesn't feel over. but then, katniss probably shouldn't trust how anything feels right now. that's twice today she's nearly died, and her desperate scramble up a hundred-foot pine turned out not to be the closest call she would experience today. an hour and a half. that's how long she spent backed into a crawl-space between two buildings, half again too narrow for any abominations to follow her in but one of them sure did try. and while it was too narrow for the beast to climb in behind her, their limbs are just fractionally shorter than the space was deep. its claws barely had to touch her to draw an alarming amount of blood.

but then it left. retreated for the woods, just like all the rest apparently had before it.

and katniss is making tracks for the hospital. realistically, if she rests and hydrates, she should survive these injuries just fine. but those things are still out there, katniss is currently a little too lightheaded to let her pride hold her back from getting help for a wound that might get her killed in battle if they attack again. when they attack again.

but night is falling rapidly, and twice now she's been sure the hospital was around the next bend, only to realize she'd lost track of her navigation somewhere between the dizziness and the fatigue. it's time to suck it up and ask for help. to the next person she sees, she calls: ❱

The hospital. Which way? ❰ it's a little weak and more than a little grudging. ❱

Edited 2017-06-20 10:57 (UTC)

( mid-day ) in town, blowing shit up

❰ she'd gone back for the bullets. and okay, maybe some explosives too, but bullets were top priority. the chick at the sheriff's office was all too ready to give back her confiscated rifle, but it was useless without the bullets they didn't confiscate. the ones sitting neatly at one end of her workbench in crowe's garage.

so of course she went back for them. this isn't her first invasion, and this time around, she plans to fight.

but she wasn't stealthy, not by a long shot, and they followed her home. too many of them — so many more than she could dream of gunning down, even now that she and her bullets have been so lovingly reunited. so as they closed in on the house, she shoved the bullets in her jacket pocket and seized the biggest bomb she'd managed so far.

the long and short of it is, she put out a brief warning to the network (one that hopefully came soon enough) and before a minute had passed, house 5012 and surrounding few meters were reduced to rubble and flames.

now, amidst the smoke, those drawn to the blast might spot raven shoving her rifle out of a broken basement window and dragging her sorry ass out after it. she scrambles to her feet, palm over one ringing ear, and staggers out to the sidewalk before dropping back to her knees.

she's scraped up and bruised, but for the most part seems mercifully intact in light of the blast that brought the house down above her. (man, if anyone needs a spokesperson for the structural integrity of these fucking basements, raven's your girl.) she's also too busy pulling her shit together to pay any attention to her immediate surroundings. good thing the blast seems to have scared off any other asshole monsters that might've been around. ❱

( night ) in the hospital, sniping

❰ it's long after midnight, and raven can't sleep, not even here where it's probably pretty safe. she sincerely tried, for a good few minutes... but then came the lovely soundscape of some sorry fuck getting their guts ripped out in the streets, and she knew sleep wasn't gonna come for a while.

so now she's posted at the window, rifle in hand.

the door to her room's wide open — maybe you see her, gazing out into the night through the scope of a gun.

or maybe you're out in the streets, and her cover fire from the second story managed to scare one off you before it tore you apart.

either way, she could probably use a distraction right about now. if she sits like this too much longer, she's going to end up with the worst sort of crick in her neck. ❱

ONE | main street

[ Settling back into a routine feels weird. It's always felt off, obviously, but remembering the fence and the hospital brings it to an entirely new level. David's never been particularly great at acting, either, and the end result is that he looks mildly paranoid or annoyed 24/7.

The sentiment seems justified when he walks out of the candy store just in time to watch a monster tear apart an old lady. ]

Jesus— [ He throws the bag of candy he's holding directly at it, as if that's supposed to distract it or slow it down. All it does is get the thing's attention, and David flinches backwards when it twists on its meaty haunches to stare him down.

He forgets entirely about his powers until it moves. The second it does, instinct kicks in; David reaches out with one hand, focuses, feels the satisfying coil of his power that's like teeth sinking in — then he yanks, and the misshapen figure lifts off the ground before streaking sidelong into a nearby parked car.

He doesn't get a chance to follow-up. Pain screams through his head at precisely the same moment the monster's body pulverizes the car, and David folds over, hands pressed to either side of his skull. ] Christ.

TWO | around town

[ He's been here before. Not him, exactly; there's a muffled sense to the memories, a blinding red filter. But the sound of human beings screaming and the sight of bodies being sliced apart are memories that stick, and the familiarity of it twists the clean adrenaline of self-defense into something bitter and uncomfortably personal.

He's weaker, though. There are a lot of reasons for that, and one of them feels distinctly post-Pines. But he doesn't have a Cary here to fix it, and he doesn't have the luxury of thinking through it himself when the town's having a meltdown.

What should be an exercise in putting monsters through a psychic blender turns out to be an exercise in barely dodging certain death. The telekinesis is only good for one solid hit every few minutes, and the rest of the time he's scrambling for a place to hide. Teleporting is less of a drain, but he's still awful enough at it that the steering's off. Odds are he'll accidentally come back into phase in front of someone as they're trying to navigate the streets or the buildings, flickering into tangibility with no warning and a bloody nose that won't quit.

Which is all to say: maybe you're minding your own business when a monster gets thrown in front of you. Maybe David teleports right into your path while you're making a run for it, or he shows up behind you while you're hiding out in a locked room. Anywhere's fair game. ]

Edited 2017-06-21 03:28 (UTC)

ｉ．ｆｉｇｈｔｏｒｆｌｉｇｈｔ

It's not only the screams that jolts him out of his peace, reading through some books while sitting out on the patio. Well, at first, it's definitely the screaming. He doesn't realize it then, but later would notice that so much damage had already been done by the time the intruders reached the main housing area. So much death, pungent stench of blood in the air, wafting in like a poisonous cloud through the streets.

His fists clench, staring out into the streets, trying to make out what's going on the chaos. There's injured people fumbling about, screaming and dying on the streets and he can see faint shapes of unknown beings on rooftops, jumping and leaping at great speed. He watches them, mesmerized for a moment, like it's all so fascinating. But he soon snaps back to reality: How, when did this all happen? What is even happening? The first thing he does is rush to his laptop. Maybe someone might've posted something about it? The moment he reads the latest post on the network, his eyes going wide and a surge of adrenaline rushes through him. Then it comes; He hears a thundering boom from down the block. Once more, he rushes outside to see plumes of dark smoke in the distance.

"Damnit— Yukari! Are you in?"

He hadn't checked to see if she was still home, as she practiced her archery quite regularly and went outside much more often than he did. Whether she's here or not, it doesn't matter. He has to do something... something that isn't barricading himself inside his home like a coward, anyway, but he's defenseless without a weapon.

ｉｉ．ｉｎｔｏｔｈｅｆｒａｙ

ｉｉ－ａ．ｂｙｔｈｅｐｏｌｉｃｅｓｔａｔｉｏｎ
With Yukari's help, he'd made his way to the police station and searched frantically for a weapon, he was directed towards his 'belongings' that the sheriff had been holding for him. For him? What? Henry didn't even realize he had any other belongings to speak of, but once he laid eyes on it, he knew.

Once the beam saber was activated, he found that it was much more effective than he gave it credit and while the creatures were enormous and terrifying? He wasn't afraid. Strangely enough, he felt elated, like something in him had awoken as he struck a creature on the arm and left a nasty, searing gash with the strength of the beam saber. It wasn't really phased by it, but distracting enough for him to leap away, then try again.

ｉｉ－ｂ．ｅｌｓｅｗｈｅｒｅ
He gets carried away with his work. The monster he'd encountered is tough and his body still feels sluggish, like it's trying to catch up with his mind and failing. Then it gears up again, choking the handle of his weapon as he dashes forward then twists his body to nearly avoid a flailing club of an arm. Somehow, he'd gotten separated from Yukari, who'd been doing a lot of healing...stuff? Magic? He didn't really get a chance to ask in detail, but whatever it was, it'd sustained him from minor injuries.

Now, he's feeling a little reckless and perhaps worried for his sudden burst of confidence. Maybe he should retreat... but his carefulness betrays him, as thinking distracts him just long enough to be blindsided by a kick to his side with powerful legs. Sharp toenails cut into his ribs, blood seeping through the shirt as he cries out sharply. The landing is clumsy, kneeling on one knee as he holds a hand to the gash.

"F-Fuck... perhaps I bit off a little more than I could chew, eh?"

ｉｉｉ．ｗｉｌｄｃａｒｄ

Want a different scenario? Catch him in between fights?? :D HMU so we can just make shit up.

i. pool party; the 19th, afternoon

[ He's got no suit here, none of the armor plating built into it these days, but it's not the first time he's fought in civvies. The T-shirt and swim trunks aren't really the problem; Steve was made to be a weapon regardless of what covering or symbols he attaches to himself, even regardless of the shield, but it doesn't take him long, when the fight starts, to realize even he needs an advantage. Getting to it is another matter. He barely has time, after the small cell phone in his pocket vibrates nearly imperceptibly against his thigh with Laura's message, to get to the stereo and yank out the plug before shouting a sharp command over the sudden cessation of conversation and laughter into mild confusion and protest — Get inside the house, now! We're under attack from outside the wall! The latter isn't part of her warning, precisely, but Steve can put two and two together faster than most men, put words and action to what most would call gut instinct.

For all the good it does them. The creatures swarm almost immediately, and for all his attempts to put himself between them and the people Natasha had immediately begun to try to herd to safety, it's hard to say if the wet puddles he's stepping into on the deck are pool water or blood. He doesn't exactly have much opportunity to check. He hits hard and fast, but they're tougher and possibly faster. He's mostly keeping them distracted until they realize he's not an easy meal. The only reason he's still alive is because he hasn't been enough of a threat to bring them all on him at once while they tear through the rest of the party.

Well, that and the steak knife.

Seconds can seem to stretch out impossibly in battle, and battles are won by making the most of each one, so he can only keep going with what he's got. It's what he's always done.

He's tangling with one but can see another in his peripheral just as he manages to get enough distance to get a good grip on the knife to throw it into the thing's eye socket, a flash of metal in the hot sunshine. Its death throes are what knock the other one into Steve as he turns to meet it, and his lower back hits the edge of the pool before scraping over it as the creature's weight drags them both into the deep end of the water, the force of it on top of him driving the air from his lungs. He has to fight not to gasp for something that isn't there, a chill down his spine that he's not sure the pool is cold enough to account for, but there's enough instinct despite the shock — there's no time to get his bearings if he doesn't want it to have the same advantage, and he finds something like skin, scrambles along the knobs of its spine for purchase, managing to wrap his legs in a vice around its shoulders, preventing it from reaching back for him as it thrashes. And still he can feel the powerful arms straining against his grip. He's got no idea if it will make a difference to these things, but it's worth attempting the choke-hold anyway, and he hangs on until his lungs are screaming and he feels the body — finally — go slack under his hold. He pushes it down and away from him, kicking against it to the surface, gasping and reaching somewhat blindly for the edge.

Maybe he could use a hand up. ]

ii. around town; the 19th, afternoon into night

[ He helps Bucky and Natasha and any others fortify the Quill residence against attack as much as possible before they run the couple blocks to the house (give or take, since they cut across the street and through the neighbors' yards). There he puts on some dry clothes he's not especially attached to and leaves the house with his friends, shield on his arm. Natasha wants to go to the station to see about getting some of the guns they'd spotted on Sheriff Griffith's men and the strangers he can only assume came from the helicopter on the hospital's roof in the distance. Steve goes with her and Bucky to provide cover along the way, but splits off from the station, leaving them to haggle, presumably, while he sees how the shield fares against the intruders.

Turns out it's pretty darn well, though he won't mind a hand then or at any point during the battle. He can be found at various points throughout the town in the coming hours, usually some number of feet between himself and the enemy if he can manage it, to give himself the space to throw it. If he can't manage it, or if he's been able to debilitate one of the creatures enough to get closer, he'll keep the shield in hand and aim crushing blows at a skull or windpipe.

He fights until the end, even past the point where he's distracted by a friend dying as she fights by his side, taking a talon to his own gut. He'll heal fast, but not that fast, so it's a good thing this shirt is no great loss. It slows him, but only somewhat more than the exhaustion already at hand and taking its toll on even him after fighting so long.

It's all familiar, at least, a history written deep into his bones more than this town ever was. ]

iii. hospital; the 19th, night

[ Natasha plows through one of what seems to be the last of the creatures, Steve having been unwilling to give it the chance to run into the woods. It spells the end of the station wagon (and thank God something good can come of this) but knocks the thing right into his path, and he drops the shield onto its head, star-side down, boot following into the curve in quick succession, a blur of motion.

He nearly collapses into the car.

At the hospital, he can be found either getting stitched up by Natasha (the doctors have patients worse off to deal with, at least as far as Steve's concerned), or laying in a hospital bed with her afterwards. Maybe that would indicate a private moment any other time, but the hospital's overrun to a far greater degree than it's ever been at the start of the month — anyone around will be practically tripping over beds and gurneys, and there's only so much intruding possible. Steve's fresh bandaging may be visible between the previously blood-soaked, now dry and stiff slash in his shirt, while Natasha's noticeable bandages are wrapped around her wrist, and she may or may not already be asleep. ]

iv. skirting the woods; the 20th - 22nd, night

[ He takes the opportunity of that night and the next day to rest and, ostensibly, heal, though there's only so much of either he can indulge in when night falls again. He's still hurt, but recovered enough to fight for those who can't, and alongside those who will, patrolling the edges of town that night and the next, alternately sleeping during the day and waiting for reports on the casualties. ]

Edited 2017-06-21 09:21 (UTC)

[Blaine did not react well to the attack that first night. His mind kept getting assaulted by images that blurred between memories and what he was witnessing. Eventually he had found a quiet place to hole up and pull himself together. A fitful sleep later, Blaine was still feeling shaken but with a fierce determination. He knew, or felt he knew, what these things were.

He let himself into the butcher shop, an idea forming in his mind. But first, a text needed to be sent, directed to Peter Quill]

Let me hear from you, brother.

A. By the pool party.

[When the first scream occurs, Ana just closes her eyes for a second because there's no way in hell that can be a good sign. It's not a fun scream of someone getting thrown into a pool or doused with cold water. Instead, it's the sort of scream that cuts through her core and she just takes a deep breath before she opens her eyes and touches her fingertip to the side of her glasses.

The pokemon is far closer than she wanted it to be, and a hell of a lot faster than any human she'd ever seen. Even Storm Shadow and Snake Eyes. Looking around the pool party, and seeing that everyone is dressed as ridiculously as she is, this seems like the potential for a massacre. Wishing she had a machine gun to get everyone's attention she just yells:]

Get inside! Quick as you can!

After the pool party-closed to Bucky.

[Son of a bitch. That stupid floppy hat that had somehow managed to survive crawling back to town is now gone and Ana has no idea where it's gone. Of course it'd be one of the things she actually liked in her starter closet. But now she's just dressed in her bikini and stupid sandals and it's probably not the stupidest thing that she's fought in, but it's probably close.

At least she looks better than Bucky does any rate. Not that he doesn't look good in her opinion but her swimming attire looks more dignified than his shorts. So, without thinking, she kicks her stupid sandal in the face of one of the monsters, sending him in the direction of Bucky.]

Love the trunks, darling.

June 20th-on the streets.
[The Baroness would give a great deal to have her concussive guns at the moment. After all, if they could blow a hole in the building, she decided, they certainly could blow a hole in whatever the hell these happened to be. And later, she certainly would demand that everyone knew what the hell they were, not just the people who had good weapons and had come with the sheriff.

But for now, Ana swung the flaming stick like it was a sword, trying to advance, and not let any of them get behind her. She had gone to her house and changed her clothing, so she was in an exercise outfit that gave her some protection, but there were places where it had been torn to show smooth skin beneath. One more place was ripped open on her shoulder as the monster behind her got his teeth in, and Ana yelped in pain as she tried to bash the thing over it's head.

Looking around, Ana just called out for help as the thing let go and her nanomites slowly started to close over the chunk that had been removed from her skin.]

The 21st, the hospital, open

[In the end, she had come to the hospital, because Ana Lewis wasn't an idiot and there was safety in numbers. She was good, but no one was that good, and right now, she didn't feel right. Finding a nurse, Ana explained that she had been bitten, and she was sent for a shot which helped. After the shot, Ana wandered around the survivors, looking for people she cared for, people she didn't, and of course, anyone who might have information about whether or not those things were freaking zombies and they were going to be dealing with an outbreak any second.

Little did she know about Carl and what was going on elsewhere in town.

But her voice was soft when she asked:]

How ya feeling?

(i) Tuberculosis sucks

[Makie did not attend the pool party. A TB sufferer anywhere near a pool? She's too responsible for that. (And too tired, besides.) But she is outside, though, sitting on her front step and enjoying the sunlight, cup of tea in hand, when the birds go quiet.

...because that's always a good sign.

She isn't expecting the scream from above, though, and her head snaps up in startlement just as the misshapen thing drops down toward her, and her teacup shatters under its weight as it hits the stoop where she'd been a second ago. The first time, the first since she got enough of her memories back, that she sorely misses the familiar weight of haru-no-okina in her hands, because then the fight would be extremely short. She kicks the small foldout table she has at the monster as it tries again, collects the solitary chair and smashes it hard as she can against its face, and it barely slows.

Nets her a broken chair, though. Good enough. She yanks hard until the second leg comes off in her hand and kicks the rest of it away, defending against the monster's swipes, the battle drawn out far beyond her liking as she finally ducks under its guard and drives the jagged wood up into its throat. And even then it takes two strikes before it falls, and she's breathing too hard, too tight, that she knows having to fight too many of these isn't exactly going to prolong her life.

But there are others, and they're attacking people on the street, so Makie goes back inside long enough to catch her breath, sharpen her chair legs into proper points, and head back out to see what she can do to help. She'll do what she can, save the lives of her neighbours, but her breath flags and her weapons just aren't efficient enough to deal with this enemy, and eventually there comes a point where her luck and breath finally run out and she ends up coughing violently on her knees in the street, wide open to attack.

A little help would be great. A healer would be fantastic.]

(ii) Oh so THAT'S where it was

[Conversely, you can run into Makie after she's discovered that her three-section pike is being held at the sheriff's office and gone to get it. She's still pale and probably shouldn't be out here, but haru-no-okina is a blade with a lot of deadly momentum behind it and, with it, these things fall just as fast as those she's fought in the past.

In the name of conserving her strength, she's purely looking for townsfolk who need assistance and helping them as surgically as possible, taking what time she can between to recover her strength. She doesn't know most of these people and, if she were honest, she probably never will. But it's the right thing to do, you know?

If you need a rescue, she's more than happy to weigh in.]

(iii) The hospital

[She'll fetch up here after the 19th when the call goes out, both to seek medical help and to help defend it if it's needed. But there are a lot of efficient fighters in this town, so you're most likely to find her occupying a small and unassuming space somewhere, weapon folded neatly next to her, and Makie watching the room looking like she's half asleep.]

Edited 2017-06-22 01:04 (UTC)

19th, afternoon, f1 ( open )

[ he's been a little busy lately. everybody's been pretty busy lately, with the mexican standoff and rebellion and buying out the local orange farmers, but his version has been a bit more quiet than all that. something about this place - its rules, his memories, the hospital - feels like a bubble just waiting for the cosmic pinprick of fate to come along, and he's starting to feel like he's just waiting something out.

actually what it feels like is trying to sleep on a sheet of bubble-wrap. you gingerly settle down knowing that any movement at all is going to get things going, and you'll be startled and then move more, which only makes it worse, so you lie there and try not to think about breathing or what you're going to do when you inevitably have to pee.

maybe he has an anxiety problem.

the screams really don't help with that. he drops what he's doing - repairing a broken game console while taking a break from trying to figure out whatever hell virus is on the laptop someone brought in a couple days ago with information that "can't be lost", okay pal - and first scans the store to make sure everything inside is okay. whatever it is, it's outside, so that's something. he notices laura's call shortly afterwards, and then scans the store again, this time to see what sort of weapons he can finagle out of all this crap. the door won't be locked until absolutely necessary, in case there's anyone outside who needs to get inside in a hurry. ]

19th, evening, home ( closed )

[ obviously the first thing he did when he got home was check on all the beings inside it, sentient or artificially so. everybody good? got all your fingers and ears and gizmos? good.

after that, he's turned his attention towards any kind of fortification. those things didn't start going inside buildings until the town really started to fight back, and he doesn't for a second believe that them leaving earlier was anything but a tactical retreat of some kind. upstairs is pretty much just as monitored as he can make it - luckily there were already security cameras in the house, imagine that. they didn't take long to repurpose for his own sense of mind.

now he's downstairs, very glad they decided to make a basement, he loves basements, basements are great, back to... more or less waiting like he felt like he was doing earlier. it's a much more acute sense of waiting now. ]

20th and 21st, flexible hours, various places ( open )

[ it didn't take long for him to realize that waiting all of whatever the hell this is at home wasn't going to work out. the sense of urgency and accumulating bubble-wrap felt like bees wandering his fingers and hay fever on his senses until he finally decided to do what he does best anyway: build something.

waiting this out at home was also not a great option given that they would have to eventually keep leaving it for basics like food, and he disliked the one-way-in-one-way-out element of the basement. however, everyone in town holding up at the hospital or the grocery store also seemed... poorly crafted, plan-wise. he hasn't decided whether numbers are a strength or a target yet.

during the day, he's doing what most people are doing - checking on others, making sure he has what he needs to get through the night, thinking forward to avoid dealing with this now, because that little process can't even get a foothold going until all of this is done.

during the night, if you happen to see what looks like an Awful Lot of Fire For Market Street, that'll probably be where you can find him, walking around with a homemade flamethrower that looks like part of a bike, a camping stove, a weedeater, water gun, and some kind of game console. these creatures don't like fire? tony loves fire. fire makes a great enforcement for the whole "get the fuck out of my town" thing they're all working on. ]

June 19th

[At first, they had sheltered in place, Leia collecting the children who were left in the school and bringing them into the basement. Keeping there for a while, sheltering in place seemed like the best out of several bad plans, and the school should have been secure enough once she locked the doors. Unfortunately, Leia could hear the screams getting louder, and no amount of singing, hugging or fierce looks would stop the smaller children from being scared and upset.

Leia didn't blame them.

Wishing with all her heart that she had a blaster at her hip, Leia looked around the room, glad that she'd long ago decided to keep the keys to her minivan on the keyring with the rest of her school keys. It was right there in the second space, the one that was reserved and printed with her name on it and everything. It wouldn't be far, or long, and hopefully it would be safe enough. Looking around the room for a weapon, Leia spotted the flag pole with it's red white and blue flag on it. Somehow she doubted the school committee would approve, but right now it didn't matter in the slightest.

Standing on a chair to take the flag down, she looked to the kids and spoke softly.]

I know you're scared, and it's okay to be scared. I'm scared too, but right now I need you to picture your fear as a little blue ball. Are you doing that? [When there was a small chorus of 'yes'es, Leia continued, pulling the fabric from the pole.] Now, I want you to put that little blue ball into your mouth, and I want you to swallow it. See it in your stomach? Well, once it's in your stomach, it's going to spread out all around you, and it's going to protect you. It's glowing around you, and when you take one another's hands and form a line, the brightness is going to get even brighter.

[A little girl with dark eyes that were familiar looked up to her, and asked a question in a tiny little voice:] Will it stop the monsters from getting us?

[Leia was an accomplished liar when she needed to be, and more than that, she knew the importance of faith. Faith could keep you calm and faith could keep you alive. Reaching out and touching the little girl's cheek, Leia smiled warmly.] If you believe in that light, and how it connects you, it will protect you and I'll get you safely home. But you need to form a line and hold hands, one following another, just like a fire drill, alright. And we need to be quiet as mice, and walk quickly but don't run. Stick together and don't let go of one another's hands. You know what my car looks like, don't you? I want you all to walk quickly to my car, get in and buckle your seatbelts, and then put your heads down.

No matter what, keep your heads down, alright?

[Whatever else was going on, Leia didn't want them to have to see it. She had a bad feeling about this, as her husband would say, and was ready with the flag at the head of the line as she led the group down the hall and to the door. The door was hanging ajar, a sign that they had already broken in, and Leia just paused and held her breath. No screams, no nothing around them was heard, but that didn't mean anything, not really.

Slowly, she led the kids forward, holding tightly onto the lead's hands so that everyone was connected to someone. Once they were outside, Leia moved faster, faster than it looked like someone her age should move, and then she held her breath as she unlocked her car. The beep of the car alarm and the click of the lock seemed overly loud in the unnatural silence, and Leia stood in front of the children protectively.

Nothing, not yet and she moved them forward into the van, waiting outside the sliding door until all of the children were inside. One moved towards the front seat and she shook her head quickly.]

Buckle up, hold hands and keep imagining that light around us, alright? Picture it around the entire van. We're going to get to the hospital safely.

[Shutting the door as softly as she could, Leia climbed into the driver's seat and started the car. There was no time now to be delicate, or to be quiet. The van's engine roared to life, and Leia threw it into reverse with abandon. The quickest route to the hospital was on her mind, as she pulled out of the school's driveway and onto the streets.

She made it several blocks over, before there was something in the road, and she heard a tiny, frightened voice from the back seat:] Ms. Organa... [The girl didn't need to finish, because Leia could see it too. Right in the middle of the road.]

I see it. [Her voice was grim and determined as she put one foot on the break and reached over and attached her own seatbelt. The other foot was on the gas, spinning the tires and building up steam.] Buckle up, heads down and put your hands over them alright?

[Before waiting for a response, and before the monster could react, Leia released her foot from the break and drove towards it, cutting the wheel just before impact so that it would hit the side of the hood rather than full on and coming into the window. She didn't know how she did it, but Leia trusted her instincts when that's what she needed to do. The windshield still cracked in the corner, but not to impair vision or to stop the car from moving.

Throwing the car into reverse, she backed over the thing with a squishing sound, and then moved forward to hit it again, but they were still several streets away from the hospital, and who knew what that would bring.]

The 21st, before Jyn dies.

[Leia Organa is not good at not doing anything. She's never been one for being idle, not since she was a small child, and she's certainly not good at it now as an adult. So, at some point during the time when she should have probably been resting, Leia collected bottles of water and blankets from various places in the hospital, and she moves quietly among the people who are looking out for the things that might attack. She offers them a bottle of water or a blanket with a smile, only speaking when it looks like someone may need to be heard. Then it's a quiet:]

Are you alright?

night of the 19th; #archerychicks, cw for death(s) later in-thread.

[ it feels like with every breath she draws in, the less air fills her lungs. with hands shaking she nocks another arrow onto her bowstring and casts her sight out onto the darkened streets. yukari honestly doesn't know how she's lasted this long; maybe it's luck. no part of her is at all certain that staying put on this rooftop is going to keep her safe, but right now it's the only thing she can concentrate on doing. her lungs burn; her legs and arms tremble. it's been a long day for humans, for unlike those murderous creatures roaming the town, it doesn't seem like any people have had the time to eat.

shifting her seat so she can rest her weight on her knees, yukari looks across the street to another building, trying to catch kate's eye. allison's on another rooftop not too far away, and with the three of them triangulating this section of the town, they can better protect the streets leading up to the hospital.

well. that's the idea. as these invaders have shown, plans and ideas mean nothing in the face of intelligent danger, but right now it's all these sharpshooters can do. yukari tries again to catch kate's eye, waving a hand towards her body to suggest that maybe it's a good idea for all of them to regroup for now, compare notes — if anything has changed in the past hour. ]

same night, post-deaths; closed to john blake.

[ until now, yukari always thought her fear of the dark was a little silly. the dark couldn't hurt you. the dark was just unknown; unseen. ghosts preyed on your sense of safety, but ultimately were harmless. logically she understood that, but logic and irrational fear have never been good friends.

until now.

now the shadows hid monsters more vile than any she's ever seen before. not even five minutes ago she watched them tear apart two innocent people. her own leg is bleeding, but more important to her right now is putting as much distance between her and the feasting beasts as possible. inside of her head, yukari knows she has a means to protect herself, but with deep gashes littering her body she doesn't have the time to withdraw her evoker and use it. as she gets closer to the hospital, yukari finally lets herself slow and lean against a brick wall, legs trembling, blood slowly draining from her several wounds. perhaps it's not the best idea to stand in the flood of a streetlight, but right now, yukari has to catch her breath so she can keep going. one hand reaches down to her left thigh, a small glow of magic starting to knit her flesh together.

for the moment, the light is a comfort. for a moment, yukari lets her guard slip. ]

wildcard! rest of the event.

[ before evening, yukari can be found either offering healing services, or using her bow and arrow to snipe these murder potatoes from a spot above the streets. she won't succeed in killing many (if any at all), but she can at least hit the eyes, throat, hand, something to dissuade them from attacking someone.

on the 20th and beyond, yukari can be found in the hospital, once more tending to the wounded and making small talk to keep the tension and fear down.

hit me up on bloodfort if you want me to write you a specific starter! ]

Edited 2017-06-22 23:38 (UTC)

Pool Party | Open

[He'd been having a good time, surprisingly. Nyx gave himself the day to just....not deal for awhile. His mind had already let go of the Salvatore family, and for once (with some help from Luna and Crowe) he figured he'd stop dwelling on how it felt to forget them.

As the screams rip through the afternoon breeze, however, he regrets that he didn't just stay home where he had his damned gear.

A shriek pierces his ears from the rooftop, echoed by a hundred more in the surrounding streets, and Nyx's mind locks down. It's not unlike the cry of monsters on the battlefield, of daemons crawling out from their hellish plane as night falls, and all at once it's like he never left the war. He jerks to face the nearest creature, leaping down upon the party, and he lifts a hand; doesn't think, only reacts as he's been trained to. Reaches deep inside himself and calls upon the well of power that was only waiting for this moment.

Clear, interlocking hexagons appear in a dome between his hand and the monster, and it crashes against it like a wall; its claws violently scrabble for purchase as it slides down the barrier to the ground. The magic shudders from the impact. Nyx shifts gears, dropping the barrier to call up lightning instead. A violent blue bolt of electricity thunders from his palm into the monster's chest, blowing it back against the house.

It's not dead, he can tell by the way it moves, but it's also not alone. More of them are jumping into the fray, and as he turns to survey the scene he can see that several people have already fallen in just the first handful of seconds. Between the screams he can hear others marshaling the survivors, trying to get people to safety. Wasting no more time Nyx vaults over a table to get to his bag and fishes out his kukri. He has no armor, barely any clothes, a single blade, and an arsenal of magic.

It almost feels like home.]

Armor would have been great right about now... | For Ibaraki

[These bastards are stronger than he expected. While it's still daylight, and they look almost human more than daemonic, he's admittedly having a harder time killing them than he'd like. They're fast, and they work together, and the longer he fights the less effective his lightning is.

Nyx warps across the street, ducking behind the dubious cover of a row of bushes to catch his breath and rethink his strategy. He's doing little more than slowing them down at this point, and in the chaos he's lost track of almost everyone. He has to get home to get his gear before he can start to really help these people. Decided, he moves into the backyard and hops a fence to get into the next block.

He hears it almost too late; a creak of sound, a whisper of air displaced by something large and heavy passing through it, and it's only by virtue of his training that the creature leaps over him when he throws himself to the ground. The delay doesn't slow it down at all. It twists the split second its feet touch the grass and is on him again. He casts a barrier, but the magic is too weak. It shatters on the second hit.

Nyx does his best to dodge claws and teeth, blocking with the blade of his kukri, but his skin is vulnerable and this one knows to avoid his hands. Short of electrocuting or freezing himself, his magic isn't going to help. Swearing, he tosses his kukri into the air, warping up after it in an attempt to stab the creature in the back, but it's too fast. The blade cuts into its shoulder instead of its spine, and suddenly there are claws digging into his side, throwing him to the dirt. Pain bursts like fire, and Nyx throws his arm up to keep teeth from closing around his throat.]

Well that could have gone better | Open to Nyx's House CR

[Nyx stumbles through his front door, saved only by Ibaraki's love of all things violent, and tries to stop himself from shaking. He'd thought he was prepared for something like this to happen. He was wrong. Nyx drips blood as he moves to the kitchen. The claw marks on his side had already soaked the fabric he'd stolen off some other unfortunate victim, but doing little to explain the blood that's staining the rest of him.

He takes a moment to turn on the tap, peering out the kitchen window to see if any of the creatures were nearby. He knows that Ibaraki has likely scared them all off, but he can't help the wariness. Rinsing his hands, Nyx splashes his face and breathes. Tries to ignore the lightheaded feeling encroaching on his senses. Then he grabs a towel to press against his wound with a hiss.

He's not sure if anyone's even home, but he makes his way back through the house to his bedroom anyway. There's a first aid kit in his bathroom, and more importantly: no windows.]

The push to safety | Open

[Once geared up and bandaged, Nyx feels like the soldier he used to be. He's fought monsters way bigger and way deadlier than these things all the time. He might not have been born to it, but battle like this has been his purpose for far too many years.

He heard the call on the network and makes his way towards the hospital, more intent on allowing others the chance to get there than making it there himself. Now that he has his armor he's less wary of getting up close to these things; warps directly onto any creature attacking someone to either take its head off or send it flying with a bolt of electricity.

It's no surprise to learn that they don't like fire, either. Very few things, he's found, actually do, and it explains why they are avoiding Ibaraki like the plague (not that it's seemed to help save their lives). He hasn't cast fire since he woke up in Wayward Pines, but there's nothing like a battle for your life to find out whether doing so will kill you again, is there?]

Hospital/Patrols | Open

[Nyx doesn't sleep after getting to dubious safety. He knows he should. Knows that while he's not on patrol there's little else to do but rest. He should get his wound seen to, at the very least, but Crowe is good with her hands and the bandaging will hold until he settles. He's tired, but it doesn't feel important. Like the adrenaline rush from getting here never quite eased; it's fueled by the sounds still filtering in from outside. The screams of those who didn't make it, and those that took advantage of the town's complacency.

He'd known there was danger, and he should have pressed harder. Maybe then there could have been a way to help stop this from happening.

He doesn't stay in the hospital the whole time. During the next day he goes out to help bring survivors to the hospital and carry supplies to survive what had turned into a frightening siege. At night he sits on the roof, watching Magnus's ring of fire and taking pot shots at anything that decides to get too close.

By the last day he's shaking. The magic use, the injury, and a lack of actual rest building into a cocktail of unpleasantness that tells him crashing is imminent, and that he'd better be somewhere flat if he doesn't want to just fall over.]

He's not with Cassian when the nurse finds him, which is probably the only way this situation could have arisen in the first place.

It's a confluence of bad events. Poe and Cassian have been practically glued to each other since Jyn's loss. Just not in this moment, not when a nurse comes running for the nearest person with a gun to say that there's someone trapped outside. Someone tried to make a run for the hospital, the things are closing in--

That's all Poe hears before he yells "Send backup!" and runs for the front doors. BB-8 screeches and shoots after him.

He busts outside into the waning light just in time to see one of the monsters punch a fist through the front windshield of a man's car. Poe recognizes him, the man, as a regular at Go Ask Alice. He always orders black coffee and a cinnamon muffin, blueberry if there's no cinnamon. He never varies, always smiles, always leaves a tip. He's just... a guy. Just someone getting by under the yoke of this place.

The monster rips the man whose name Poe never learned through the broken windshield in pieces.

Poe yells, a sound that might be "No!' and is equally likely to just be rage, and runs for the monster, firing his blaster. His aim is compromised. He's too angry. He has to get a grip.

(What are you doing, Dameron? There's nothing left to save.)

He stops, gets the gun up, and fires twice into the back of the monster's skull. It keels forward.

The second one hits Poe from behind. He feels teeth in his shoulder and claws in his side, and the sensation is so odd that he almost doesn't feel the pain of it.

BB-8 shrieks, and then the teeth are out of his shoulder, and Poe looks back to see a grapnel locked against the thing's throat and BB-8 blasting his torch into the monster's eye.

Poe tries to yell for BB-8 to get away, but he hits the ground instead. There's warmth dribbling over his stomach.

His blaster. Where's his blaster? He twists to look for it and a wash of pain makes the world go white.

His vision clears and there it is. On the pavement. Out of reach.

This isn't the way he’s supposed to die.

The person he wanted to help is dead. (I'm sorry Jyn.)

He reaches for his blaster, fingertips kissing the grip, he reaches for seconds and for hours while the world grays and darkens at its edges and the blaster stays kissing his fingertips sweet and rough and mocking. There's too much noise around him; the world is silent with it.

This isn't the way a pilot dies, bleeding on the ground.

Would his mother be disappointed?

Would his father be proud?

This isn't supposed to be the way he goes.

A. That Gnawing Feeling - OTA

When the birds go quiet, Lantar stops in the middle of his walk to work and stares up at the treeline. Something icy and ominous pools at the base of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine.

That… that’s not normal. He’s only just gotten used to birds, to their sounds, but this? This has never happened before in the months that he’d been here. And there’s a smell in the air now, thick and heavy and human but- off, somehow.

He remembers smelling it before, in his walks in the wood. That first day after leaving the hospital, chasing after a scream in the woods.

Mandibles slanting nervously, he stares harder into the the gaps between the pines and that’s when he sees it- a movement in the shadows. Too big to be human and he doesn’t know any other non-human around that’s that big.

And then the screams.

He sees eyes at the edge of the trees. The omni-tool flickers to life before he even thinks about it, flash forging a blade of out the empty glass bottle he’d been taking down to recycling.

Just in time for him to get tackled by one of the fuckers landing on top of him from a roof.

B. It’s Like the Vorcha Murder Sprees of 2177 But Wimpier - OTA

He makes it to Weaver’s, somehow, covered in red and smelling faintly of burnt meat.

After ushering the first couple waves of panicked and injured people into the storage room, he murders some more of those- fucking whatevers and sets about securing the perimeter. The storage room on the first floor was pretty tight, barred windows and steel doors and all, but the upper floor were all windows and he’s not about to wait and see if these assholes knew how to work doors. Not with ten or so people hiding under his watch and the number now growing.

About fifteen minutes into the attack, he lights up a molotov cocktail, nails one of those grey-skinned dickholes with it-

And discovers that they pretty much just fucking scatter at the sight of flames.

Thirty minutes and a growing pile of burnt and de-limbed bodies later, there’s a sign hastily painted across the front of the building in (somewhat pink-tinged) white reading:

‘MOLOTOV COCKTAILS HERE’

You’ll fight Weaver’s owner surrounded by a crates of freshly delivered forty proof alcohol with rags stuffed into them. There are fire barrels set up around the front and back doors of the bar as well as one on the balcony being manned by another volunteer fighter.

You looking for shelter? Or some way to set every monster/thing around you on fire? Well, here’s the answer to your prayers!

Edited 2017-06-23 06:04 (UTC)

Laura (co-starring a lot of gore and blood) | In Town! But also vague for max threading | OPEN

Kal "Clark" Kent | Various Locations and Times | Open

Randel Oland ✄ Various Locations ✄ OPEN [minor tw for descriptions]

Iris Amicitia | all through the event | Different places in town | Open

Magnus Bane | all over town, all the time, all the pain

open ✧ cassian, poe, & jyn | june 19-21 | various

Cain (Roman Fletcher) | In Town, Hospital | OTA

wanda maximoff .• june 19th, streets, O P E N