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

[Kaworu isn't exhausted at all. He could have kept going for hours and hours more, perhaps only stopped by an injury that required a bit more mental focus to repair. But the fighting is finally over - finally, the Initiative brought them back, fessed up to the futility of it - and now he had a different purpose. He has to find his friends.

Lurking outside the housing building has proven to be a good method of locating them as they filter back to get some desperately needed sleep. It feels late, even though it isn't, and probably most people who could be sent back to the apartments already have been, but he doesn't mind waiting out here all night if he has to.

At least, waiting this long is being rewarded - he catches the sight of Billy as he approaches the building. Slowly, he floats back down to the ground, his bare feet hitting the cold cement lightly. His bloody, ruined clothes are getting some strange looks, but Kaworu ignores them.]

Billy? [he steps around others, closer to him, as he approaches.] I've found you. Are you alright?

[Billy's head snaps up as a shadow passes above him, still on high alert, and he soon pays for the movement with a fresh spike of pain in his neck. Ah---he rubs the back of his neck with a hand, looking up to see what the disturbance is.

It's Kaworu floating down...floating? That's new. Billy blinks, wincing as he takes in the sight of his friend. His clothes are ruined, but he doesn't see signs of blood. Huh?

But there's a question to answer. Billy shivers and pulls his gown tighter around him, desperate for any shred of warmth the paper can provide.]

I'm alive and functional. That's better than I expected.

[He nods to Kaworu.]

It's the same for you, right?

Alive and functional.

[he is completely calm, and serene, and emotionless when he says it. but it's easy for him to say. for fragile Lilim...]

Are you injured?

[Kaworu draws closer to him, reaching out with his dirty blood-smeared hands towards his hospital gown. It doesn't occur to him that Billy may not walk to talk at all, nevermind that he'd want to show him any of his wounds. But at the same time, it doesn't occur to Kaworu how deeply anguished and worried he'd been all day for his friends.]

Where? Are you alright?

[Billy shivers and draws back, shaking his head slightly.]

Can we go inside first? I'm not quite freezing, but getting there.

[He starts shuffling off to the housing building, glancing over his shoulder to urge Kaworu along. All that blood is a little concerning.]

[at first, he doesn't pull his hand away. a part of his angel's soul doesn't know what to do with all of this intense concern. but when Billy begins to leave, he's pushed into movement too, and he silently follows him inside.

when they near Billy's door, he finally speaks again.]

Where were you? What city.

Paris.

[Billy lets them into the main room, then his bedroom, switching on the heat the moment the door is closed. His movements are slow, pained...the blood loss was stopped and he was pumped full of drugs, but his energy's still low.

He drops to sit on the edge of the bed, hunched over slightly. It's a bit of an effort to look up at Kaworu.]

Where were you? Weren't you treated?

[it's when Billy slumps onto the bed that Kaworu suddenly gets a sense of how tired he is - emotionally and mentally tired, not just wounded. But he can't let him come back to this dark apartment alone, not after what's happened to him before and what happened today.

Kaworu's hands move to catch his shoulders and support him when he begins to hunch over. Then, slowly, he pulls his hands away again.]

Mostly in Europe. No, I didn't need treatment.

[pausing, his eyes seem to mourn the next question before he's even said it or heard the answer:] Did you die?

I find it hard to believe that your ripped and splattered clothes happened without hurting you at all.

[Billy makes eye contact briefly, skeptical, maybe a bit of humor---but that's just him hanging onto normalcy by a thread.

Kaworu's next question brings him back to reality, though. The memories flood back. Desperation to save his friend, realizing that there's no time to recover from these wounds, mourning for the friends he won't see, fear of what does or doesn't happen next---

---he closes his eyes and balls his fists in the blanket beneath him, inviting more pain to shoot up his arms. His voice is barely more than a whisper.]

Affirmative.

[Kaworu's red eyes keep on him, unblinking but lacking intensity. Really, the look on his face is lacking any real emotion at all. But a few moments after Billy's whispered answer, he blinks.

His clothes? Kaworu looks down at himself as if for the first time. Not that he didn't know he looked the way he did right now - but that he'd only just remembered.

Before he does anything, he really has to deal with these filthy clothes. Stepping back from Billy, he leaves the second topic of conversation alone for now.]

I was hurt. [he starts unbuttoning his shirt, even though he could probably just pull it off in the state it's in now.] Your question was whether I was treated.

[What? Billy looks up, startled to see Kaworu casually undressing. He doesn't mean to stare, but he doesn't really see much in the way of possible remaining marks.]

Then you healed yourself?

[Lucky. Billy's been treated by the best the Initiative could offer and the wounds have been cleaned and closed, but the raw pink marks and old scars are still there. He tugs out his collar and peeks under his gown---no, not a pretty sight.

After a moment, he looks back up.]

I have some spare clothes---less than I did before, and they might be a little big, but you can change here if you need to.

Yes. [as he spoke, he pulled his shredded and stained white shirt off and tossed it into a small bedroom trash bin in the corner. His orange undershirt isn't as damaged, but that gets pulled off and thrown out too.

He looks back at Billy. There are no marks on his chest, no marks on his arms or stomach. But his skin looks dirty. Not just with blood, but sweat and dirt, too. He hasn't cleaned himself up since he got back.]

I would appreciate that very much. [offers a small, thankful smile.] It's fine if it's too big.

And you can use the shower if you like. I think I'll need one when you're done.

[But he's reluctant. Sore and stiff---the shower might help that, but that's a lot of walking. For now, though, he lifts a finger and points.]

My clothes are in that drawer. The sweats should be fine.

You go first.

[Kaworu reaches out to take his hand and help him up from the bed if he needs it. Kaworu leads him to the bathroom with a subtle kind of coddling concern that one may show for a grandparent. He waits for Billy to shower, and then takes one himself.

The water somehow provokes thought. It swirls down the drain dark pink, and slowly grows lighter as he's rinsed. Not all of this blood is his, but most of it is. And he is fine... perfectly fine. After standing over the bodies and remains of so many millions of dead Lilim, here he is. And they are not even his own... And they would all die someday...

It affects him anyway. And if it affects him like this, surely within Billy's heart he is screaming to himself.

When he enters Billy's room again, he's wearing the pajama pants he gave him - a bit big, but not too big - and he has his towel slung around his shoulders to keep his dripping hair from getting him wet again. He stands in the doorway and smiles at him.]

..... That's better.

Edited 2013-05-24 15:50 (UTC)

[Billy really appreciates Kaworu's gentle manner at times like this. He spends about twice as long in the shower as usual, staring at his feet and contemplating the light tapping on his back and how he's somehow still alive to feel it, but his awareness of Kaworu keeps him from attempting to drown his sorrows just then.

When Kaworu returns, he'll find Billy dressed in the thick and fuzzy sort of pajamas, pale blue. He's sitting up with his arms tightly wrapped around his abdomen as if to hold something inside---sickness, maybe. The look on his face is distant, sad. But he still has attention to spare, looking up.]

I can see that. But...you're...really better?

[He always asks first, because that's what he does. Some concern floods back into his expression---Kaworu might look fine, and maybe he is, but he'd clearly seen a lot of action.]

Edited 2013-05-24 15:53 (UTC)

Well, we aren't dirty anymore, are we?

[Shrugging his shoulders, he holds up his hands to how off how clean they were now, jokingly misunderstanding the question for the sake of acknowledging that nothing is really better. He knows that Billy asked for his sake, though - not for his own. It's more than apparent that Billy is not well.

Kaworu walks over to the bed as he dries the back of his hair idly with his towel.]

... Did you injure your abdomen?

[his body was hidden again, now from the pajamas, but Kaworu needs to know where he was hurt and where he wasn't hurt.]

Huh?

[Billy looks down at his arms. Oh! Well...yes, but that isn't the worst of it. He just shrugs.]

Yeah, and that's the tip of it. Almost all of me got ripped apart. I'm not normally so sloppy when fighting, but...it's difficult when it's twenty to one at very best and I don't have my best weapons.

[There's a bitter chuckle following.]

[Kaworu smiles back at him, but it's only for the sake of comfort. He's observing this numbing laughter, his body language. Lilim don't shrug off something like being ripped apart. Billy's mentality from before this happened is proof of that enough. Genuinely fearing for one's life is something that doesn't leave the psychology of a human once it's happened; and the situation where a person goes through that constantly is especially tragic.

Kaworu's concern for Billy distracts and overrides any conflict within himself over what he'd seen today, and happily so. He sits down on the bed on top of the covers, facing Billy, and glances at his stomach.]

Does it still hurt...? [he's... quite focused on this issue of his injuries.] Where else? Your back?

The worst of the damage is gone, but the pain's not so easy to be rid of.

[Billy nods resignedly, his hands hanging loosely at his sides.]

Yeah. Some old wounds got reopened, but I've been through this before. It'll pass.

[It sounds like he's trying to convince himself of more than one thing.]

[Kaworu looks markedly unconvinced. He slouches slightly, settling in his place on the bed, before looking Billy in the eyes again.]

May I see?

[Billy exhales loudly, expelling enough air for his shoulders to shake. There's a definite weight hanging over his head, his heart, and he knows Kaworu's on a mission to get to the bottom of it. He wants to sleep, needs to escape, but...

...no, something tells him not to send Kaworu away yet. And maybe he should get this out in the open.]

Fair warning: it's ugly.

[Billy reaches for the buttons on his pajama top. He'd only bothered buttoning three, exhausted as he was, so it's not long before the material slips off his shoulders.

There hadn't been a need for bandages on fully sealed wounds, the reasoning had gone, so every one of Billy's marks is exposed. There's a solid boot-shaped bruise on his abdomen, raised scar tissue dragging from his ribcage to his hip, and another jagged mark across his upper chest, along with a whole score of smaller ones. At least 30% of the skin is the raw pink of newly regenerated tissue.

His back isn't any better. There's an ugly bump near his shoulderblade that was clearly a bullet's doing more slashes, and a larger and redder line across his other shoulder---that's the reopened old wound, and it hurts like hell. Other, smaller indentations litter his back---some more older wounds, the diggings-in of glass, but they're not big enough to cause problems now.

All the while, Billy hangs his head, defeat and shame clear in his posture.]

[Kaworu was expecting something pretty bad, but this is worse than he'd anticipated. Just how many times had Billy already been through what happened today? And with these severe injures... how had he survived before? Did those people keeping custody of him have to bring him back to life, too? Seeing him like this gives Kaworu an intense stab of pity in his heart.

But he hadn't asked to see out of a desire to gawk and fret over him and be fascinated. Such a thing would not be unusual for Kaworu, but that isn't his interest now. Instead, he leans in close to him and slides his arms under his and around his back - being very, very careful not to touch or agitate his wounds. This is what he'd wanted to do when he saw his friend outside, but not knowing where he was hurt made touching him like this too risky.

Very gently, he pulls himself closer, giving him a loose hug. It's so similar to the hug that Billy gave Kaworu a few weeks ago, that it's impossible not to be reminded of it.]

You're not ugly.

[Billy fully expects to be poked and prodded. He's had plenty of that today at the hands of the numerous doctors and nurse he's very grateful for.

And before the nurses, it was the soldiers, being sliced and shot at and slicing and shooting in return. Human contact, in short, has not been very kind to him today. It's almost enough to make him want to hide under the blanket for a good week.

So it's a total shock when the expected probing fingers from Kaworu are instead gentle hands reaching around him for a different reason. Billy stills when Kaworu's arms slip into place on his back, so careful to bring him comfort instead of pain. Billy doesn't even mind that Kaworu's body is cool---the affection when Billy needs it most is warmth enough.

Billy folds his arms around Kaworu's back, drawing as close as he can without making the pain unbearable. It's not the tightest of embraces, but it's solid.

And those words, so intent on easing Billy's fear? They help, even though the weight on Billy's heart isn't entirely about physical ugliness. No, there's more regret and guilt within. But even that small bit of acceptance drives a suspicious burning behind Billy's eyes. His shoulders shake with restrained emotion.]

You're too kind.

[Kaworu shakes his head slightly, although the only way Billy would know in this position would be the slight movement of the rest of his body that came with it. Of course, Kaworu wasn't talking just about phsyical ugliness when he'd said that. Because, deep down, neither was Billy when he gave him that warning.

Kaworu's body is the same temperature as the room, the heat from the shower having dissipated from his body by now. But Billy is so warm in comparison that he feels hot in Kaworu's arms. Tenderly, his fingers follow the ridge of a scar on his back. Billy deserves to be loved. He deserves to be caressed and cherished.]

You want to talk about what happened.

[his voice lacks the firm assertiveness he might usually have when he says things like this - it's more like a guess this time, but a fairly confident one. the words weren't scolding enough to keep him from denying it if he wanted to.]

The other war...it was a lot like that. Worlds ravaged, countless people dying. This wasn't my first time fighting for a world dying in one ruthless massacre.

[Billy closes his eyes to block out the images, concentrating instead on the feeling of Kaworu's gentle touch. That someone would willingly hold him even now has to be some sort of miracle.]

But we were better prepared in that other war. We had our own planes, our own mecha, enough tanks and resources---and it helped that our enemy wasn't as well organized as the UE either.

We couldn't save that world either, but we at least managed to rescue some of its people.

[It's suddenly a little hard to breathe, and the burning in Billy's eyes intensifies, threatening to burst out at any moment.]

Here, I couldn't save them. Well...I made one save, but that was just an exchange of lives.

[Hearing this, Kaworu wants so much to pull him closer, but the risk of hurting his body is too certain. He's so fragile... his body, and his heart. And Billy is on his own - in his head, he's on his own. There is no way for him to fully perceive and understand Kaworu's feelings and interpretations of these things.

Physical contact is one proxy. But, again, he's too damaged for it to help more than hurt. As a substitute for hugging him tighter, Kaworu leans against him gently and rests his chin on his shoulder, the side of his jaw pressing snugly against his neck. He's so warm.]

You feel responsible.

But, you must understand than these events are not your fault. They aren't your doing. And even if they were, your efforts are not meaningless.

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