deathsdoctor | 008 [Accidental Video] PLAYER EVENT, forward dated to the evening of July 6th

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008 [Accidental Video] PLAYER EVENT, forward dated to the evening of July 6th

[Good evening, Luceti. Good evening, Community Housing Unit Two.

How is your night going? Are you with loved ones or friends tonight? Having dinner? Working? Perhaps, just perhaps, you’re contemplating turning in early for the night. It’s peaceful, as evenings go, after all. The stars are bright, the winds soft and perfumed with the scents of the nearby forests.

And over the journal, there it is…

… the sound of glass breaking. A book falling and thudding open… a snarl.

Here we go, that same old song and dance.]

Wha--- [ka-chink] WATCH OUT, BEPO!

[It happens with brutal speed and the journal window is obscured in blinding blue flaring light and shouts and screams and panic are drowned out in the sound of crashing and the ever rising roar of destruction and tremors that crescendos with an explosion. An explosion that tears out the exterior walls of Apartment 40 and most of the roof above it upwards and outwards in a cloud of concrete and twisted metal and other debris to fall like rain below.

Michael Bay would be proud.

And then a soft voice, horrified:]

Bepo…

[The voice changes then, becomes cold and unyielding as something looms into view. It is limned with blue fire and heavily bleeding, and it wields a sword.]

… listen up and listen well, you and your masters eavesdropping, because I’m going to say this only once. No one fucks with a man’s nakama and should expect to live. You want me?

[Death beckons.]

GET OVER HERE.

[And everything is drowned out in light and fury and rips outward from the apartment, ripping and slashing through the walls to the rest of floor eight and through the floor downwards to leave gaping rifts and wreckage in its path all the way to the sixth, and the roar only rises and the building shakes again.

Then it stops.

Eerie silence reigns.]

B-bepo? [COUGH. HACK. The sounds of someone dragging themselves across the floor.] … still alive. [The voice is wavering, relieved, before steeling.] Still alive.

[Bloody tattooed fingers pull the book closer, and something drips on the pages, and the man makes another wet, hacking sound.]

That can’t be…

… all of them…

[ And through that crimson veil, NOW you see it, in amidst all the wreckage and blood splattered everywhere, the remains of droids. The undefeated droids. Now empty eyed and shattered and reduced to no more than useless pieces. They don’t even twitch… just spark. Impossible, isn’t it? But long moments pass and yet…

No more come.

Look. The impossible is impossible no more.]

((OOC: For the sake of keeping the timeline somewhat together, I ask that there’s no multiple people arriving first at the scene in the action threads. I will be providing scene descriptors as necessary. The droids will be returning in one hour, wherever Law and the rest of the characters may be, and they cannot be stopped and they will do anything and everything to stop your character from halting them from catching their prize. I’ll be keeping a countdown of time left until they swarm like the zombies of The Night of The Living Dead. Please threadjack all over the place here.

As a bonus, here’s the music that would have cued up in the middle of the attack.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[O...kay so Masaomi actually was in the Rec Center, but all the ruckus going on next door sound wise was a bit hard to miss. He simply watched the highlight real of people going in and out of the building, rushing up, sounds of damage and exterior destruction from the ground looking up for much of the time. And then when people go out, well, still from a distance he watches. He's actually... frozen there unsure if he should go help or not, perhaps hiding a bit.

It's the hour mark, after his neck burns and things start to heat up when he properly hides so. Yes, basically, he's just watching.]

[It is quiet, Masaomi, so very, very quiet. Even the breeze has died down and there is an unnatural hush to the air. And though the stars are out and shining coldly, it is dark and getting darker.

And the shadows reach out.

Now look up. The sound of concrete crumbling should alert you. Look, Masaomi, on the walls, skittering up like spiders. Dark, indistinct forms. And movement inside the blasted out shell of the top floor. Light, strobbing, eerie... almost misty. Crashing.

Searching. They are searching.

Where is it? Where is he?

Suddenly all noise stops. The forms on the walls scatter and disappear.

Silence reigns once more.

It is dark.

It is black.

And all around. Glowing brightly. There are eyes.

And metallic footsteps sound in the night.

Everywhere.]

[He really... really hates his life. Like you have no idea how much.

Okay so the Malnosso's bots are here. If he fights them, it's over. He'll never be able to savage anything if he Hulks out here. So he decides to try to take the severed head of of the robot he dug out and see if he could hide behind a broken wall one perhaps some furniture if all of it isn't completely destroyed.

If he can just find a way to get out of here and sneak past them, it should be fine. But damn, this is gonna be hard.]

[For a few moments it looks like your luck might hold out. The droids are far more interested in the rubble and their fallen comrades still hidden underneath. It's a good chance to try to sneak down the ruined hall and to another room to see if there's a hole in the wall to make a speedy exit through.

There's plenty of rubble everywhere. Cover is available.

And there's plenty of commotion to cover any noise. The crashing as the droids not-to-subtly dig through the rubble should take care of any sounding of footfalls. It's interesting, though, how some of the wreckage they have hovering. Attention getting, with the eerie light show that comes with the act.

But luck runs out eventually...

And two droids begin to turn.]

Community Housing Five. Seventh Floor. That window. [She points.] Wait for me outside.

[The grip of the Spartan on the Phoenix is solid, product of training turned into instinct, but no small part of it was fear. If what both the Chief and the Medic felt was true, they had run out of time.

She sees a mass of droids preparing to move. Her grip solidifies.]

They're here!

[The Spartan gets ready to jump inside and grab all of her gear as soon as they reach her room.]

[Flies her over to CH5 as fast as possible and when she goes in the window, he hovers outside, switching into hybrid form with a human body except monstrously huge wings holding him up to make hovering easier. Meanwhile he'll be keeping a watch on the ground and doors to make sure they don't get surprised with another attack while they're there.]

You all right in there?

Yeah! Just stay here! I'll be back in a moment.

[The girl jumps off and runs. She picks the helmet, her important tools, and a few of her notes. A notebook would take too long to write, and she would do it in the aftermath of this... Whatever would happen.

Because of the load, she puts the red-and-gold helmet on, and holds the tools in a metallic box. Once done, she returns to the same window, and whistles to him to pick her up. She hoped the weight of the tools and the helmet wouldn't hinder him too much.]

[Switches back to full phoenix and waits for her to climb on. It shouldn't weigh him down too much and if it does, it'll just mean shortening the excursions.]

All right, let's go. [Waits until she's securely on and then takes her over to the Barracks rooftop.]

[The Chief recognizes this place. The barracks. This would take a little longer for the droids to reach. She hoped this would give them time.

When she looks at the droids in the distance, something told her that it was what they needed the most.

On better situations, she would've dropped higher, but without the ability to put her hands over her chest without dropping her equipment, she has to be careful.]

Keep floating nearby, stand guard. If you feel so much as a twitch, I want to know!

[She uncovers the chest part of a droid from her bag, and clicks something in her helmet. After opening her box of tools, the Spartan begins to work. Her heart is still racing, yet it is the fear that turns into a heightened feeling of the world.]

Aye. [Lands anyway on the barracks for now. If they're going to be flying a lot, might as well get in a few breaks. Though after she gets off, he goes out flying again, high enough to blend in with the sky, but low enough to still see any problems coming their way.]

This is SPARTAN-023. Beginning inspection of Malnosso Droid Unit. July 6th, 2531. Commencing operation.

[Daisy talks to herself, to her own recording. She attempts to pry open the mechanism with screwdrivers, welding equipment, and the like. The material is as hard as Covenant alloys. It refuses to give in, and she can't afford to destroy her tools or waste any more time.]

Outer casing seemingly protected against intrusion without industrial-level equipment. Using alternate method.

[Formal talk for "I'll rip it open with my bare hands".

The insides... don't look like much she had expected. Then again, for a place that relied so much in the unstable laws of physics of this world, the Chief Petty Officer should have known. It's like seeing ancient hieroglyphs without a rosetta stone.

She takes high-def & heat scans of the machinery. More than ever, she wished she had more time and more personnel aiding her.]

Technology shares a handful similarites to human electronic mechanisms, but a lot of it is hard to compare even to Covenant machinery. Likely relation to shifts and different laws of physics. Present is a faraday cage system to protect the unit from electromagnetic pulses, and levels of energy of residents that could disable most electronics with their powers.

[A pause. The Spartan doesn't turn her helmeted head, but she needs to know what is happening out there. She raises her voice to reach Marco.]

Situation?

Clear for now, but I'd recommend speed if you have it, eh? Even smart rookies are still rookies.

[By which he means, he likes Law -- for a non-allied pirate, but he doesn't expect him to last long against any large numbers.]

[And talking as a bird is still weird. Sure, he can do it here, and other birds speak human like it's nothing, but it's still weird.]

[The Chief suppresses her irritation and the instinct to tell him she is far from a rookie. They had a job to do, and Law would not last. He was right.

That, and keeíng mentally aside the fact that her protector was a phoenix of mythology would help her cope with Luceti.]

Affirmative.

[She continues her work. She studies the source that emanates the highest heat.]

Battery seems to work not through conventional means of energy of either modern era or of Human-Covenant War era. No presence of lead-acid, or of galvanic or hydrogen cells.

[She opens the CPU... This one looks even more alien.]

Design of Central Processing Unit module of unknown technology. Means and time to process data unavailable at the moment.

[SPARTAN-023 blames herself. If they had cables to manually link her helmet with the droid's CPU, she could've stolen the data to de-encrypt it later. But then again, even the UNSC had troubles deciphering Covenant technology.

Her body language is faster, but like the times when she holds a weapon in the battlefield, no part of her shakes. She is entranced on her work. All to keep her mind off the very monsters she was studying.]

[Keeps circling, trying not to feel like a bird of prey about it. His eyes are focused on the ground, though his ears are trying to pick up everything she says. Let's just hope the droids can't teleport.]

[This time, she inspects one of the legs. She would try to understand the performance of these machines.]

Legs function with an advanced pressure system spread throughout the thigh in a manner emulating human muscles. [The helmet turns to the arm.] Arms have a similar system, likely aiding the units perform with efficiency against stronger targets. Material of unknown design -- probably nanofibers to emulate muscle fiber.

[The more she learned, the more they could resist against the droids. Then, an idea comes.

She tries to continue around the chest, trying to locate anything that could look out of the ordinary, unable to find anything that looked a lot more alien than the things occupying the insides of this droid, but nonetheless recording everything she sees. There has to be something that may be the power dampener that had caused them so much trouble. If the residents got to know where it was, they could have a fighting chance against these droids.

SPARTAN-023 grabs a head part of the droids.]

Dismantling head unit for future theorical inspection.

[Her helmet aims at it, then puts both fingers to split open the head, before she sets it on the ground. Once again, more machinery that looked alien... More to inspect, and record.

She wished she had Robert or Donatello in here. She wished she had more time to inspect those things. But Law wouldn't last, and she knew it. So she focuses on what can she learn to use it against these things.]

[While he's still not picking up anything special, that in itself is making him nervous. How has it been? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? Less than that? He gives a few more loops before whistling softly. Might as well head someplace else rather than push their luck.]

I'm thinking we should switch up locations. Just in case. Think you can carry all that?

[Her helmet turns quickly towards Marco, then nods.]

Yes, sir.

[She dislikes having to do this, especially with two open parts. Nonetheless, she puts the dissected parts first, face-down, before putting the rest of the pieces back. Then, she puts her tools back in her box.

Once done, she runs towards the Phoenix with both heavy elements.]

[Good thing too. Look below, you two. Look below...]

[Mumbles quietly to her once she's on.]

I have awesome timing.

All right let's go. [Swerving and going a little higher to keep to the skies.]

[Her hold on Marco turns stronger once she sees the droids below them. She contains her strength, not wanting to hurt the person that was transporting her. They were running out of time... if they hadn't already.]

Where else do we go?

Preferably someplace they won't expect. For now though... [He cuts diagonally across the village over to the rooftop of Community Housing 1. It's not as far as he'd like, but it should given them a little time unless the droids can go through the trees. But any time he sees the droids he veers in another direction just to (hopefully) throw them off.]

I'm loathe to involve anyone else, but they probably won't want to waste time anyway. [Lands gracefully. Who says you can't have finesse and speed?]

They'll only go for us. They'll leave the rest alone.

[If no one stood in their way, Daisy hoped.

She leaps off Marco, drawing the contents one by one, before she carefully sets the head on the floor for inspection. Her hands are faster. She is being followed.]

Head contains visual receptors for detection. Possible uses for this part of the droid are communications, data storage, commands, and detection. It is possible that the chest and the head share these tasks.

[And judging by what her feed showed, the plating was hard to remove. Daisy assumed it was the rush she felt giving her extra strength to open this thing.]

[Watches for droids again, careful to keep his yellow tail up near the sun. He only picks up or understands about half of what she says, but good enough. Electronics are definitely not his thing.]

[She resists a brief glance towards the sky. She takes another hi-def image and heat signatures.]

There are cables inside a metallic tube that crosses through the spine that connects the functions of the head with those of the chest. Droids were designed in a matter not unlike biological anthropomorphic bodies. General body alloy has a hardness similar to Covenant ship hulls or Hunters' shields.

[She picks the bigger pieces off the head, and spread them on the ground, keeping priority over the heat signatures they emanate.

A part of her knows the dangers of this. If your enemy has intel in his hands, you destroy it before he reads it.]

One hour mark - and things turn bad to worse

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