deathsdoctor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deathsdoctor) wrote2011-07-05 06:20 pm
deathsdoctor) wrote2011-07-05 06:20 pm
Entry tags:
- bite me luceti,
- don’t touch the nakama,
- enter the surgeon of death,
- for my nakama,
- goddamn droids,
- goddamn malnosso,
- hope’s the cruellest thing of all,
- one piece big no,
- property destruction go!,
- shouldn’t you be dead from that?,
- supernova alert,
- the doctor needs doctoring,
- the first mallynap,
- this will not end well,
- yes he’s human – no really he is
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.))
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.))
[Action]
I'd like you to meet Mister Marco. He could get you to your equipment faster than anyone else present. And he'd be able to buy you time if the droids attack. He's the strongest of us here.
[Action]
Yo.
[Okay, so he doesn't look like much. In fact, he looks like a freaking scruffy pineapple on the body on a lazy tattooed pirate. All that would be correct. However... he's also a phoenix. The flames won't damage anyone ever, they'll just heal and maybe feel mildly ticklish if you're sensitive like that, but he can kick and he's fought magma, ice, and a being made of light all on the same day. Did someone call for avoiding and possibly even trolling things? That he can do.]
Is there anyway you can do all that studying in mid-air?
[Action]
Don't think so, sir.
[At least not outside Zero G-Ops or in the back of a Pelican. Things would fall off the sky and she doesn't believe she can levitate.]
It'd take too long to get into my armor, even with people helping. [She usually gets on her armor with half an hour of anticipation. Maximum.] But if I got the helmet and tools to pry these droids apart, maybe I could glean something.
[Action]
How heavy is your armor?
[Action]
[Daisy holds on to his body, leaning down somewhat to compensate for the height.]
Have the droids ever catched someone that flies, or teleports?
[Action]
[Action] 50-55 min mark
[Training usually reserved for Orbital Drop Shock Troopers. Things that Spartans were trained for at even younger ages.
The tickle on their necks return. The barcodes.
The Chief Petty Officer turns to see Law. A scowl has formed in his face. Daisy-023 wasn't the only one to feel it.
She holds on to Marco with greater strength. Her tone turns solid.]
We've got to hurry. There is no time!
[Action] 50-55 min mark
[Action] 50-55 min mark
[And his thumb presses against the tsuba of his nodachi as he watches them speed towards their destination.
It's too still now.
His thumb presses down.
Ka-chink.]