exsiliumlogs | Other Worlds: V 2.0

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Other Worlds: V 2.0

Date & Time: May 21st, beginning at 0900.
Location: The Initiative Hold and all throughout Elmer's world
Characters: Anyone participating in the fighting, anyone staying behind.
Summary: Elmer's world is fought for and lost.
Warnings: Violence, death.

They reopen the portal at 0900, May 21st. The first scientist who stepped through was killed within thirty seconds; the rest who followed made it back through to Exsilium, albeit not unscathed. The portal was shut again by a panicked operator, although a second operator knew to keep the coordinates locked.

Within ten minutes, the alert had been sent out. There's no time to wait for the Transports to gather en masse; as soon as they have a sizable enough force to stand a chance at fighting through and clearing their gateway's location, the door is opened again.

Immediately inside the door is a desolate, grim scene. What had previously been the coast of Japan is now scorched earth, blasted sand, and little else. As the first point of contact for this world, it has undoubtedly suffered the worst. Here, the UE didn't stop at governments, financial centers, and capitols — the UE destroyed everything in sight. There are enough UE soldiers remaining in the broken country to give the Transports a difficult battle, although by now the bulk of their forces have moved on.

The Initiative will soon realize the necessity of opening more gateways, just as the UE had done. Transports will be deployed to London, Berlin, Paris, DC Washington, Moscow, Beijing, New York City, Hong Kong, Madrid. Through each of these windows, the destruction is staggering. Buildings are more husks than structures, everything that can burn is alight, and the death toll is off the charts. Blackened bodies seem to line every street, while pieces litter the ground among the rubble. There's no doubt that the UE has no need of the people of this world. They're after resources only, and anything and anyone already here is to be removed.

You can find UE soldiers everywhere. They move in coordinated squadrons of 20, and each of them carries a small arsenal. Even without their incredibly advanced and destructive weaponry, they're fearfully formidable. Each soldier, while still only human, is a genetically perfect clone, further enhanced by technological implants. They're all highly trained in physical combat. Even if you can disarm one of them, don't count on close-range attacks being any easier to handle. They've brought along cannons, small flying craft, and lightweight tanks. Each of these is the top of the line in terms of technology, geared toward destroying as much as it can, as quickly as it can. The United Earth is here to destroy, and they won't stop to wonder why their targets go from being civilians and scrambling, off-guard, comparatively primitive militaries, to trained and powered Transports.

For anyone staying at home, they'll find that any Initiative presence has withdrawn fully to the Hold. All Initiative employees are needed, and most of them in the med bays. The majority of the Initiative focus is on recalling and resurrecting fallen Transports, but attention is still needed for the living-but-wounded. Any Transports who stay in Exsilium and offer their help will have it immediately accepted; they'll be put to work in the medical wings, runnings supplies, or simply set at a machine and told to keep an eye on the numbers: Transport vitals, UE movements, and maps upon maps of changing statistics and colors.

At 1500, the Initiative will recall all Transport soldiers back to Exsilium and seal shut the gateway. The UE numbers are too great, their soldiers too powerful, and Elmer's world is lost.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[A: Japan, a hour or two into the attacks]

[During a relatively quiet moment - one where the screams, shots and explosions are perhaps a block or two away - an alchemist can be seen making his cautious way down the burnt-out husk of a street. His clothes are tattered and singed, but by this point that's hardly an achievement. A couple of details that might be more noteworthy are the long steel blade attached to his right arm and the profuse amount of blood dripping off his left, the latter of which he's clutching with his other hand just below the elbow.

Upon spotting anyone who looks like a fellow transport, he wastes no time in hurrying over. Even weaving slightly as he is, there's a purposeful air to the way he runs.]

Have - have you seen...?

[And he's keeping his voice down in case any of the UE's soldiers are still lurking around here. Yeah, that's definitely what it is.]

[B: med bay]

[Ed is no stranger to being shocked awake from a bad dream. Even in the fuzzy state of half-consciousness before he opens his eyes, he suspects that this isn't it. But this particular feeling of having been torn away from something indescribable isn't a wholly unfamiliar sensation either, and that's enough to set alarm bells ringing in his head long before the ambient chaos of the Hold itself starts to filter in.

He jerks upright, breathing heavily, supporting himself with his hands - and immediately falls back onto the resurrection bed, because one of his arms just gave way underneath him and the other is so numb he's not entirely sure where it is.

...Oh, right, of course, that part is standard. Took him a second.

The rest comes back to him in fits and starts as he sits up, this time with a little more care. It looks like somebody's bandaged his left arm - must be where it got impaled earlier. That was nice of them. He also notices, once he looks down, that he didn't get around to transmuting the blade on his other arm back to normal. Probably a good idea to do that sometime soon, considering he's no longer right in the middle of a warzone...

... the middle of a warzone, just after they'd somehow managed to find each other despite the smoke and the bullets and the rubble, just as they were leaving the remains of a building they'd already checked for survivors, just when they'd started talking about pulling back...

As the last of his recent memories finally piece themselves together, so does the panic. He's off the bed like a shot, sprinting past staff, volunteers and gawkers alike.]

Al! Alpho-

[But only a few yards away, renewed stabs of pain through his gut and chest cut him off with a gurgle. He stumbles, fighting the urge to double over again or sit back down.

Who did he just stagger into? He can barely tell, and for now, he doesn't care. With a hand as unsteady as the floor seems to him right now, still grimy from soot and encrusted blood, he attempts to push them aside.]

Al...!

Whoa, be careful.

[Sango notes the way he's weaving; he looks worse for wear. Not that she isn't, with the slashes in her suit and blood trickling down the side of her face, but still. Kirara warily keeps watch as her mistress stops to chat.]

Seen what? Who?

[As he gets closer, it becomes a little clearer that he's actually holding the wound in his arm together - it looks pretty severe, and of course it's completely untreated. Nothing seems to be broken, though.

He takes a deep, only slightly ragged breath. Gotta concentrate. There's one thing that matters right now, and it isn't this pain.]

Guy in a suit of armour. Tall. Anyone like that?

[Incidentally, she has. ~~Though the thread is still in progress whoops.~~ Sango frowns deeply at his arm wound.]

Actually, yes. He... helped me earlier, and he's alright as far as I know. But I doubt he'd be very pleased to know that you aren't. The portal's not far, right? Why don't you let me help you back?

Where is he? [He doesn't wait for her to finish talking. He doesn't even contemplate the possibility that there could be more than one suit of armour hanging around this battlefield. He does, however, move his right hand slightly in a less than successful attempt to better cover up the wound.] Which way did he go?

Last time I saw him, he was in the infirmary.

[Which may or may not be true whoops.]

You should probably start there. I'll keep an eye out for him in other places and tell him you were looking.

[C'mon dude. Dying ain't fun. :| ]

He knows I'm looking.

[It's a little tricky to keep focused on her, but he manages it for long enough to give her a suspicious look.]

Anyway, if he's all right, what's he doing in there?

He took me there. I told you helped me. So maybe I can return the favor by helping you?

You're no use to him like this, you know.

[He narrows his eyes.] Thanks, but... no thanks. I've had worse.

[It's as much a reminder to himself as it is a protest. As long as he's still breathing, he'll always have had worse. Which means there's no damn time for him to just stand around, here or back in the Hold.

Then again, if Al took this girl back through the portal, he might not have gone too far after coming back... and he would have come back, wouldn't he? There's no way he would've taken any of the others, knowing Ed might still be here... right?]

...How long ago did you see him?

[If one had any doubts about Ed and Al truly being related, they'd probably be dispelled by the way Al is acting now. He all but stomps through the Hold, arguing heatedly with well-meaning Initiative employees even though nothing they say seems to appease him.

He doesn't look fit enough to be demanding answers from anyone. His armor's practically in shambles, dented and bent and shot through, his legs scraping and rattling with every movement like they're going to give out at any time. What's most striking, though, is that his chestplate is almost entirely gone, revealing to anyone around that his armor is indeed completely empty. For once Al's making no move to keep this hidden--it hardly matters now, does it? They lost. His own issues are laughably trivial in comparison.

It doesn't take long for what's left of his patience to snap, causing him to abandon his futile line of questioning. If the technicians are too busy to help him hunt down one person among the many casualties, then Al will search every inch of this damn place on his own.

Apparently at least timing is on his side, as he hasn't gotten far when the sound of something all too familiar makes him stop in his tracks.

He isn't surprised to hear his brother's voice, exactly; deluded as it may be, with the body taken away and the Initiative's bold promises he's been able to cling to one last bit of hope. Impossible things happen in Exsilium all the time, and while he'd be furious with himself for entertaining such notions of playing God in a more clear-headed state, the idea of losing Ed is terrifying enough to make him willing to consider almost anything.

At the same time, he knows what he saw. The inescapable finality of death is a lesson he's still paying the price for learning today, and one that forms an important cornerstone of his overall worldview. The universe doesn't do second chances, and to fight against that only creates more suffering in the end. Doesn't it?

It's with a jumble of mixed feelings that he hurries to the med bay, straining to listen and fearing that wishful thinking has pushed him to the point of hallucination. When Ed speaks again, though, there's no mistaking it and no room for hesitating. Maybe if he'd said anything else Al would have faltered, but hearing his name called so desperately isn't something he'd ever consider denying.

He breaks into a run, pushing past the unlucky man Ed has stumbled into without a second thought. His hands are already shaking as he reaches out, staring with disbelief and wondering if something like this is even okay for him to hope for.]

Brother.

[If he looks like he's apprehensive about there being a catch, like perhaps he's afraid that Ed is going to up and disappear any second, that's because he very much is. Nothing this big ever comes easily.]

[Disoriented as he is from blood loss and certain other circumstances, it's a conscious effort for Ed to stay standing as the man he was pushing is swept aside - but that name, in that voice, brings the whole world sharply into focus.]

Al! [Relief floods what feels like every fibre of his being, even the ones he doesn't have any more. For now, there's no room left for pain.] You're...

[...No, "okay" isn't the word. He falters, and his left hand, already reaching for Al's own as if grasping for proof that he's solid, flinches back. His eyes linger for a second on the gaping hole that used to be Al's chest before he looks up again. He should know better by now, of course, but seeing his little brother beaten up this badly somehow makes that hellhole seem a thousand times more present and threatening than his memory of actually being there.

Still, tempered as it is, he finds it in himself to smile. The important part is what (and therefore who) escaped unscathed.]

You made it out... I'm glad.

[And that in no way is going to head off what must be running through Al's head right now, but Ed isn't at all sure he wants to try.]

[Ed acting concerned with him is more than Al can take, and in an instant he's hugging him with everything he's got. After all the damage he's taken it's even more awkward than usual, but it's only ever the worst of circumstances that push Al into desperation for reassurance.]

Brother. Brother, you're alive.

[He might not have a body that allows him to cry, but the distress in his voice and unsteadiness of his grip speak just as universally. All the emotions he's been trying so hard not to get caught up in are hitting him all at once, and if he's acting like a child in public he honestly doesn't have it in him to care.

The loss of an entire world is unfathomable and something he'll need time to even begin to grasp, but Ed... That had brought gravity to the devastation, grounded it into something close and scary and unrelentingly real. And right up until this moment, every step has been compounded with the knowledge that if he'd been a little faster, a little stronger, a little better then at least he wouldn't have been heading back to count his losses alone.]

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

'Course I'm alive, Al. God's not in a hurry to throw out his old punching bags.

[Ed doesn't resist, however uncomfortable it is. He wouldn't have even if he was feeling up to pulling himself away. People can stare all they want.]

So don't be sorry, okay? If anyone... [He winces slightly, but it has nothing to do with him being more or less mashed against a load of battered armour; it's just a repeat of that earlier stabbing sensation somewhere around his ribs. It's nothing.] If anyone should apologise, it's me. [After all, he's the one who told Al he wouldn't do this kind of thing again.]

Come on. Let's find you somewhere out of the way.

[Philosophising can come later. Finding out just what the hell has been going on... well, in a state like this, maybe Ed does have all day for once. There isn't a shred of doubt in his mind about what he needs to do first.]

Don't--.

[Whether he's referring to the apology or Ed speaking so normally in general is unclear, but the truth is probably somewhere in between. Going from genuinely believing that he might never hear the sound of his brother's voice again to a conversation that would almost be normal in any other context is jarring, to say the least, and not something he's able to immediately make sense of.

He knows he has to get it together, though, for Ed's sake as much as anyone else's. He can't afford to fall apart--figuratively or literally-- not when there's still so much he doesn't understand. If Ed's managing to be strong right now, then he owes him as much as making an effort to do the same.

Reluctantly, Al eases up and draws back, finally taking in the sight of Ed's remaining injuries. He shakes his head in response to the suggestion.]

You're still hurt. You need to go lie down.

[Ed's already pushing past him in the opposite direction to the bed he vacated - none too quickly, because the moment he gets too far away from Al to lean on him will probably be the moment he loses his balance for real, but it's the thought that counts.]

I said, come on, Al. [He hasn't entirely abandoned trying to sound reassuring, but his bluntness is too sudden to be accidental.] Before I have to cart you outside.

[Even if by now it'd be a lost cause to pretend he has nothing to hide, he figures Al can at least take a hint: like hell he's going to cop to anything here.]

You're the one who looks ready to fall over, Brother.

[The banter doesn't come quite as easily as usual, but there's something comforting in its normalcy all the same.

It's lucky for Ed that Al's still so unsettled, really, otherwise he'd be forcibly hauling him back to bed and refusing to hear any complaints. Distracted as he is he goes along with Ed's stubborn insistence, one hand carefully placed on his brother's back to keep him steady as he follows.]

You shouldn't get too far away from the doctors.

I just need to make it to the lab and back. That's all. There's some spare parts... Nobody's gonna miss them.

[It soon becomes pretty clear that Ed is hardly finding it easier to walk the further he drags himself from the med bay.]

And anyway... at least if I fell over I wouldn't end up in a dustpan.

Spare parts?

[It's such an odd, out of place thing to say that Al has to wonder if maybe Ed is delirious or more heavily medicated than he appears. Quickly, Al moves to grab his shoulders to outright stop him from continuing.]

Brother... Why don't you just tell me what you need and wait here while I go get it? My armor's really not as bad off as it looks.

[He's not entirely successful at masking the appeasing note to his voice; he doesn't actually have any intention of retrieving anything from the lab right now, but he's willing to say what he needs to to get Ed to relax about it.]

[It turns out that forcibly restraining Ed isn't a fantastic way of getting him to calm down even when he can't muster the energy to do much about it. The glare Al receives in response doesn't look noticeably less focused than normal, though.] What, Al? Was it something I said?

[Al doesn't let up, and in fact gently tries to urge him back towards the med bay. Being worried is hardly a new feeling right now, but the confusion that comes with it is certainly different. What in the world is Ed going on about?]

Brother, you aren't making sense. Let's get you back to bed and then you can explain everything, okay? Whatever's at the lab can wait.

[Ed's agitation at this point handily makes up for his current inability to physically fight back. Can't Al see this is something he needs to do? What's not to get?]

Al, have you seen what you look like? What were you expecting me to do, leave all of those holes in? Or thin you out so much you'd snap like a twig the minute you tried to stand up? I'm telling you, I'm fi-

[He cuts off with a sharp, pained grunt; a passing nurse, rushing from bed to bed with supplies, just happened to knock the bandage on his arm as they hurried by.]

[Thinking that a weapons development lab holds the solution to that particular problem isn't exactly filling Al with confidence about Ed's lucidity. He's about to say as much, but the nurse's clumsiness sets off his temper with an ease he'll feel guilty about later.]

Hey! Shouldn't you be more careful?!

[He softens considerably before addressing Ed again, almost pleading for him to understand.]

Look, we'll figure something out about my armor later. Right now getting you better is what we need to focus on.

[In an act which may not help convince Al that he's feeling entirely himself, Ed refrains from snapping at the nurse as well, who in any case is too preoccupied to stop for more than a hastily mumbled apology. He can't exactly blame Al for worrying, it's true - he'd understand that with or without the particular past experience he's currently doing his damnedest not to let gnaw away at him. But it's just as true that Ed was only half joking about having to cart Al out of here in pieces at this rate, and the alarmingly unfamiliar rattles and clicks he can hear mixed into those clanking footsteps as Al steers him back towards the bed only cement that as far as he's concerned.]

Well... don't tell me you were planning to just sit around in the meantime. You've got other stuff to be doing. [That's something he can be sure of even if he hasn't been updated on the Initiative's situation yet. As long as there's still a chance...

Actually, how long was he out for? (Even thinking about it as casually as that doesn't sit quite right with him, but how else is he supposed to think?) He can't imagine circumstances could have improved much - one cursory glance around the med bays practically confirms that and more, never mind looking at Al - but it's always kind of stressful not to know as much as he'd like about what's going on. And nothing's impossible.]

Edited (rethought a bit :|b) 2013-05-26 11:52 (UTC)

This is important too.

[Which is an extremely vague answer, but in a matter of seconds he's already convinced himself that the bad news will be easier to deliver if Ed isn't on his feet. Or at least lower the chances of him trying to bolt.

And Al can't exactly dismiss concerns about his armor one minute and admit the truth the next--he'd like to be doing something more to help in the aftermath, but there's no way he's sturdy enough to hold up the strain of any additional weight or unnecessary movement. He'll be lucky to make it home, but that's something to think about when the time comes. Right now he can't imagine leaving Ed, not when he's barely convinced he's really even alive.]

Here. Lie back down and I'll get you caught up.

[With a lead-in like that, Ed is almost prepared to make a break for it just on principle. Still, he makes the small concession of at least sitting down, resting his weight on his right hand, and has to admit it's an improvement.]

What happened?

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