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.

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[0930]

Barney tumbled through the portal in New York to see storm troopers marching through the streets, buildings exploding, and people dying. The normally kind of steady, unflappable man had an air of unusual panic about him. He scrambled behind cover as he was met by a hail of gunfire, muttering (shouting, really) "No no no no no no no no not again!"

[1100]

A United Earth Patrol marching nervously down a side street suddenly came to a ragged halt when one of their men hit a trip wire. There was a moment of panicked shouting as they tried to get away before a hidden grenade blew up. Before the smoke had even cleared, Barney and a few other transports had popped up in ambush, trapping the Unite Earth troops in a very effective crossfire. With total surprise on their side, it was almost an even fight.

[1320]

Barney's voice came on over the radio. It was clear enough through the static, but there was also the sound of gunfire and explosions with him. "We're getting pushed back here at 5th and W! If I don't get some support pronto we'll have to abandon the entire north flank and fall back closer to the portal!"

[1450]

A UE hovertank had been crashed and emptied of enemy pilots. The tank was stuck, but the turret was still working, which Barney had commandeered. He was firing some kind of gattling laser at scattered United Earth soldiers, screaming a blue streak, and still slowly losing his position. The Portal back to Exsilium was just around the corner. Someone should probably drag him out of there before they get a heavy weapons team there to blow up his tank. This fight is lost

A voice responds over the radio, clearly inhuman in depth and volume. "Hold the line, I shall support."

With that, Priad starts off towards Barney's location, disengaging from the sodden mass he just made of the last UE platoon he encountered in New York, blood still sluicing from his armor, claw, and blade.

Well hey, he hadn't been expecting anyone to actually respond. Barney stops getting ready to pack up and hunkers back down under the latest round of gunfire. Once it dies down he peeks around the corner for just a moment.

There's a tank coming down towards him. He barely managed to stop the LAST tank. This isn't fair at all. He loads another cartridge into his pulse rifle and starts trying to come up with a plan...

[When the alarm had sounded, he'd gone to the Hold immediately. He knew he had two options - stay in the back as a healer, or fight in the front as a warrior. Perhaps it was brash of him to choose the latter, but the adrenaline had already started pumping and he knew that he needed to be out there to help. The hammer he had been given by the Initiative proved useful when he could get close to the soldiers, but they had the range advantage on him, and only his holy shield had stopped him from being riddled with bullets.

So now he huddles behind the wreckage of a school courtyard, hurling lightning and firebolts at the squadron of U.E. soldiers poking their heads out from their own cover across the way. ]

[0915]

Meliantha is a commando. A fighter. While she's not very good with the gun she carries yet, she grabbed grenades. Hit and run attacks are the order of the day, and if someone follows her, that's fine; otherwise she doesn't care and she's doing her duty to herself and to the god she follows.

[1025]

She's heading towards the portal; this battle is lost, so she's going to redeploy to help somewhere else.

[1200]

Stumbling back through a portal, one arm torn apart and bleeding heavily, the scent of blood and sour milk in the air, looking for a medic to patch her up so she can get back in the fight, dammit...

[1345]

Curled up in a mostly-collapsed building in Hong Kong, trying not to cough, not sure what she can do right now. There's the corpse of a UE soldier there, most of his face obliterated by acid, but right now she's got a cut in her that she's afraid will let her guts out if she's not very, very careful...

[1455]

Crawling, slowly, painfully, towards the portal - barely able to move, holding herself together, close to it. And cursing.

A

She is an angel.

Kanaya has no idea what the Earth variety of angel is. She is not some peacefully singing maiden staying where she belongs in the afterlife. The white dress she wears is the color of death. An angel is a force of destruction, a hideous harbinger of the end. She's a sundrenched monstrosity. She leaves beams of light and trails of blood in her wake. Most of it, of course, is red. That's what humans do. Some is green. Meaning hers. It's alright. She has a little more of the stuff than anyone without horns, right?

At first the natural chainsaw is her default. Cutting people in half, or pushing a whirring blade through their heart, is such a reliable method of extermination. Later, though, that appears to be proven not such a sustainable strategic decision. On account of the sheer numbers, you know. Staying far away isn't safer (that would mean she was getting hurt and she's an exceptionally fortunate and attractive corpse, it doesn't matter) it's just a little more effective.

So she darts between shadows, regrettably trailing a little light (and blood). Even wounded - even with a couple of mildly gaping holes - she's still fast. She can pick out targets from a distance, use this method to foil otherwise guaranteed enemy plans and save transports. She's so glad she trained herself in the beautiful art of the headshot.

B

Finally though things are too much of a blur - she may or may not have been set on fire and sent back at some point, it would certainly explain the burns her clothes have sustained - but at some point things become clear again to Kanaya and they have to go back. And the bodies still around here, ones she recognizes or ones she doesn't... she has so little time but with her insane fastness attribute it should be more than enough. Being left behind in this hell is a worse scenario than going home, which she'd never thought she'd actually even think.

C

They patched her up. Implants, or something. She understood the science behind these things even less than the underlying politics. Mostly, she was sure things would be better later.

Maybe she'd get into the med-bays later, find out if there was anyone who would benefit from stitches or an amputation. Change into a nurse's uniform with less distracting blood patches. Her hand found a wet wound, slowly brought stained fingers to her lips. She was so fucking thirsty. That was what happened when you got this close to the less fun kind of death. The desire to make it fun again snuck up on you.

[ A ]
[ Well, there's no debate over which form she should use for a fight like this. She'd arrived at the Hold for equal parts curiosity and excitement (a real war, finally!), and as soon as she's through the gateway and into Hong Kong, she sheds the human shape for her true one.

She's having the time of her life now, really. She soars and twists between the tall buildings, latching onto one now and then to spring around and launch a renewed attack on some squadron or pursuing hovercraft. Many a man and machine is left sizzling in her wake, as she makes very liberal use of her acid breath. She uses magic readily and often, disguising herself, attacking, shielding. But even with all of her strength and power, she doesn't go unscathed. She bleeds from multiple places, and one leg dangles uselessly after a while.

She hardly feels the pain. That's for later consideration, now is the time to delightedly destroy. ]

[ B ]
[ With as reckless as she's been, it was really only a matter of time before the UE shot her down. A 35 foot black dragon is a large target, after all. She'd fallen heavily, struggled, breathed twice more before having the life shot out of her. And in thirty minutes, New York City is treated to a furious black dragon as she rushes back (missing her intended portal in her rage, but she doesn't even notice the difference).

She'll go down even more quickly this time. Rage clouds her wits, and she's still weak from the resurrection. She'll last a little longer on the third try, if only because the second went so poorly, and she's learned a little from it. The forth will be another short attempt, because that resurrection-exhaustion (not to mention the drain on her magic and endurance) is really starting to stack. The fifth, six, and seventh tries are acknowledged suicide runs.

Catch her resting just briefly, looking ragged and droopy, or witness some spectacular, explosive death and subsequent grim return. Just try not to team up with her at this point, because nearby allies probably don't have much of a life expectancy either. ]

[ C ]
[ After everything is said and done and the portal is closed, she won't even bother trying to hide herself. There'll be a black dragon sprawled out across the roof of the Housing, all four limbs, head, wings, and tail flat against the newly set concrete. She's alive and intact, but far too irritated to do any sleeping. Orange eyes glare at nothing in particular as she relives each battle and death.

Ugh. The UE. They're just terrible. ]

[ It's a shame the United Earth troops aren't undead or demons, really. Ashraf would be having a field day. But he's also very good at his second job — keeping people alive — so that's what he focuses on. He moves along on foot, tossing out heals and fortifying spells to any Transport he encounters. Sometimes he doesn't even stop to say anything, just casts out that green healing light, a few spells to enhance speed and strength, and moves on.

If he encounters someone looking to be in particular trouble, he stays a little longer. As soon as he's completely healed all wounds from about twenty feet off, the next spell will find his Transport target bathed in a permanent golden glow, which reduces the strength by half of all blows directed at them. Sometimes he'll spare a magical item to encase his target in a solid beam of pinkish light, which will block all attacks on them for the next thirty seconds or so — provided they don't walk out of the light, of course.

As long as Ashraf is nearby and standing back, any fighters can expect to find themselves almost immortal. Excepting a one-shot kill, he'll immediately heal away any damage they receive, and boost all natural and Initiative-give abilities.

That is, as long as he's not being attacked. If he has to turn that healing attention on himself, odds suddenly drop pretty steeply. Be a pal and draw enemy fire away from him, won't you? ]

[A]
[Modern warfare may not be his forte, but there's no way he's going to sit out a fight. Not like this one, not when it's staged somewhere so like his own. Just being thrown into the streets of London is a surreal exercise: familiar streets, familiar skyline punctuated by debris and desolation. Hot smell of melted plastic and the chalky, heady burn of buildings and engine fluid and god only knows what else.

Not that there's time to take it in before finding a bit of cover. Once on the ground, Charlie scrambles to find a relatively protected vantage point.]

[B]
[Somehow over the course of the fight, Charlie's managed to outfit himself a little more appropriately for the situation. He makes his way through the streets armed with a UE weapon either from a soldier he managed to take down or from scavenging. He falls in and out with individuals or groups as it suits him and doesn't spend much time deliberating anything. Moves where it seems right, shoots toward the first UE troops he lays eyes on. It's overwhelming and this isn't anything like what he's used to fighting.]

[C - locked to whoever picks it up first]
[It's late in the day and things aren't exactly looking good. Not for London, not for the Transports, not for goddamn anyone. After hours of this, he's run more than a little ragged; dirt smudged and limping, Charlie bashes in what remains of the glass door of a chemist's shop and steps through into the dim, unlit interior of the shop.

Making his way through the aisles, he makes a beeline for the gauze and medical tape. He sits down right in the aisle, pulling up the leg of his trousers so he can put something over the patch of seared flesh on his calf. Which is where someone might find him: swearing up and down as he folds the gauze over and fights with the medical tape.]

Edited 2013-05-21 19:08 (UTC)

[0900: Nothing perpares Johnny for the destruction that's overcome his hometown. The ruination of New York before him stops him in his tracks almost immediately, as a panicked thought crosses his mind: what if he and this Elmer guy were from the same world? He came from 2012 though, not 2002, but this was no time to puzzle out temporal problems. It was time to take down as many UE soldiers as he can. He hefts his weapon from over his shoulder, and speaks to everyone within earshot.]

Let's get these motherfuckers.

[1120: Johnny's way too far in over his head, and like most Transport, isn't equipped to deal with the UE forces. Clearly severly injuried, Johnny tried to ignore it and push on. But the half-demon is bleeding in several places, gunshot wounds all over. Leaning on his maul and panting hard, he's eying up some UE soldiers that have been spotted a few dozen yards away, turning past some wreckage. Johnny let's out a low, gutteral sound, almost a growl, before he starts after them slowly, dragging his weapon along.]

Edited 2013-05-21 18:56 (UTC)

[ She gears up quickly as soon as she's heard the distress call, a horrible feeling in her stomach.

It's worse than she imagines.

The smell of smoke, flesh, copper -- it's the smell of war. A war none of them are prepared for. This had been her fear since her unwilling arrival and now this only solidifies the fact. The UE soldiers are coordinated, with a plan, and her side is scrambled all over the place. Desperation is heavy in the air. ]

a )

[ There's no time to stand around in silent horror, so she quells her intense feelings for now, putting them to better use. A burning adrenaline courses through her like she's never felt before and she begins her own assault on any and all soldiers she can get her hands on. Executing well-timed kicks and punches left and right, she takes down any soldier without holding back. Hopefully her training has paid off -- she'll need every ounce of her strength with the amount of soldiers pouring out from every corner. ]

b )

[ It's becoming more and more apparent that no matter how many arms, legs, and jaws she breaks, the soldiers practically spawn back in greater numbers. She hears the clicking of the guns before she can get a visual on it and she bolts behind an overturned car, bullets ricocheting everywhere. She feels one whiz past her shoulder, just barely missing her.

She needs to get to higher ground and fast. Just as her grappling hook extends, a soldier barrels himself into her, knocking the wind out of her. There's a struggle as she manages to get herself upright, but she needs to get this bastard off. He hangs on tightly, extending his hand for a knife he's armed with. The heel of her boot slams directly onto his face and blood and pain obscures his vision.

And then something clinks nearby and her head jerks up to see a grenade. She leaps away quickly and runs, but the explosion knocks her away and possibly into another Transport who's happened upon her at the wrong time. ]

[The Hold]

Jim runs in and runs for the high powered sniper rifles, grabbing one and stowing several drums of ammo in his armor's hoppers. Fastening his normal rifle to his back and his pistol to the side he starts out.

"Damn... Too much like home. Anyone needs cover fire ping me, I've got my helmet ready to go."

[Washington DC - Late Morning]

The place was a mess, Jim had all ready realized it was less of a rescue operation and more to at least hurt the enemy. He had directed a very few people to safety and had a bag of salvage he grabbed as a diversion/to take back but was hiding in the rubble of what used to be the greatest men's room in all of the world, siting as many goons as he could from his vantage point of the building across the street form the Capitol building. When he can he'll simple scope in and start aiming at the heads of clone troops but it won't be forever he's unnoticed.

[Afternoon]

Well one can't snipe forever, still having about a third of his ammo left, the heat got too much and he's switched to his rifle, taking a fighting retreat back to the rally point.

"This is Jim Raynor of Raynor's Raiders. Need back up, picked a fight with a few more than I should have and don't know how much longer cover will last. Repeat! Need back... SON OF A!" The rest is lost to auto-cannon fire.

Khisanth was not alone for the third attempt. A second dragon followed right on her tail through the portal and also took to the skies. But where the black dragon was a brutally graceful and furious predator, the red one was a cautious tactician and magical powerhouse.

Ricasthix fell a bit behind Khisanth, then started weaving spell after spell on both of them. Khisanth found glowing runes of protection starting to cover her scales, then time felt like it slowed down just a bit around her with everyone moving in slow motion, then confusion among the enemy ranks as they lost sight of her entirely.

Then they reached breath weapon range, and even Ricasthix put aside his sorcery to give in to the rage and fire in the blood of all dragons.

[ jesus christ my everything. tba!! ]

[Finally, some action. And not too soon, either. Vera puts on what little armor she can spare and arms herself with her warhammer, bow, and blade, flinging herself through the portal the moment she gets to it.

The carnage on the other side isn't wholly unexpected. But the technology is a little overwhelming. The buildings are decimated, people are dead or screaming their last vestiges of life out, and she looks past all of it. She has to. And when she spots the enemy, she rushes into the fray.

A)

Vera is equipped enough to manage dragons. She is not, however, capable of piercing the armor of her foes with her arrows, regardless of their strength. They taste her blade and fall, one by one, but every time she cleaves one in two...there are at least three to take its place. The battle is a losing one.

As a tank rolls around nearby, she spots the soldiers flanking it and rears her head back. A resounding FUS RO DAH can be heard echoing throughout the streets, shaking buildings, and the tank flies up and over, smashing into its allies. It's a costly mistake as one of them shoots near her, the explosion behind her sending her flying back with shrapnel injuries.

Spitting out her disdain, she gets back up. She always does. And when she can, she Shouts as often as she's capable.

B)

The return is neither pleasant nor easy. Vera stumbles through the returning portal with enough injuries to kill lesser people, but she's a good enough healer that many of the old ones have covered up. Still, she's covered in blood and ash, a disgusting mess, and she goes to find a place to sit and...recover, she supposes.

She refuses help from any of the medics. All wounds heal. She just needs some time. But she doesn't seem to be all there, mind spinning with the sight and sounds of battle she just witnessed.]

[1100: A body washes ashore in Japan, like many others, in tattered and bloddy clothes. This one, however, doesn't stay down long. There's some loud coughing as the water forces its way out of Elmer's lungs, and he gasps for air, looking around wildly. He gets to his feet and starts searching for others, calling out "hello?" periodically, and surveying the damage. Elmer was still on the cruise ship when the UE hit - he has no idea what's been happening elsewhere.]

[1300: Elmer's not going to stay down no matter how many times the UE shoots him or blows him up. However, Elmer couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag, so he's not quite sure what else to do other than jump in the way of danger for the Initiative fighters. Just when you think you're about to get gunned down, your smiling blonde savior bum rushes you out of the way and is riddled with bullets instead. Now's your chance to fight back.]

A: Rose thought she knew what something awful could look like. She'd seen the aftermath of the war on the Battlefield back in Sburb, and that had seemed terrible, but stepping through the portal here was enough to make her realize just what a real war could be. Part of her wanted to run away, run back through to the city where it was far safer, but she knew she couldn't. She had the means to fight back, the machine had given her the Thorns when she had arrived, and who was she not to use them? Because she was afraid of them?

And use them she did. More so than she had on any other missions, not just a few bolts of lightning to keep the enemy at bay, not just her telekinesis. She wasn't resisting the wands at all, and it was very, very obvious. As she floated above the city, her orange robes flutteringly wildly, their color twisted by the violent energy around her, a storm of dark, twisted magical energy had formed above her, and from it lightning rained down, peppering the approaching UE soldiers, scattering clusters of people like toys. Tanks were vaporized as they approached, and fighter jets fell from the sky like stones, their wings smoking and destroyed.

Of course, she couldn't keep it up forever, and the more she did it, the larger a target she was. But it wasn't some fancy weapon that took her down. A single shot from a well-hidden soldier on the ground took her in the shoulder, and then a second through her side, and she fell from the sky, her storm fading away like it had never been.

B: A while later, after she was rescued or revived, Rose was back, but this time she was being more careful. She stood on a rooftop, her body bathed in the black energy of the wands as she picked off approaching vehicles and men. This time when they focused on she was already gone, not risking a direct confrontation, choosing another, safer perch to snipe from.

She would rather not get shot down again...

C: After everything was finished, after the retreat, Rose could be found sitting in the corner of the arrival building, on the floor, her knees pulled up in front of her. The thorns lay on the ground nearby, still cracking faintly with energy, but Rose was ignoring them. Instead she was watching everyone coming and going, the injured, the survivors, the dead...

She wasn't crying, but she was on the edge. Holding it back through sheer force of will that was rapidly breaking down. It was so different, witnessing a world ending rather than just knowing it had ended. Hearing the screams, watching people die...

[ooc: If anyone would like to rescue Rose after she is shot down, feel free! Otherwise she'll god-tier revive after a while.]

Edited 2013-05-21 19:20 (UTC)

[Elissa's had her doubts about the Initiative. But the destruction of another Transport's home is not something she'll sit idly by and allow to happen. She isn't very skilled in anything beyond swordplay and she has no crossbow or recurve to use... But she will fight. There's no question.

A)

Warden stamina is good for something, at least. Just when it seems like Elissa's going to run out of energy, she's back up and fighting, using her skills as an assassin and shadow to pick their enemies off one by one. It's tedious and takes too long, but she can thin them out before they get close enough for hand-to-hand. More than once, she's there to cut through them when they get too close to fleeing civilians. And more often than not, there's little she can do; no matter who she attempts to protect, they still manage to cut them down with alarming efficiency and cruelty.

She buries her sword into one of her enemies and swipes off their head. And then she ducks back behind some debris before she can be shot full of holes. She really isn't used to this sort of combat.

B)

When Elissa crosses through the portal back into Exsilium, it's clear she's not well. Blood stains her armor and, alas, it's her own. She's already clawing at the straps of her leathers to shove them aside and assess the damage, which is a good, clean cut into her ribs. It hurts to breathe and to move too much, and so she settles somewhere until a medic can deal with her.

She's a mess, red hair out of its tie and sticky with blood, but she's alive. That's what matters, right?]

[ Dispatching one flank had taken some time, but it's done and Kate has to move along before more soldiers make their way to the scene. However, before she can get down the damaged street an explosion rocks the ground beneath her feet and from a distance she hears something heavy explode and windows shattering.

After a dizzying moment, she locates the source of the noise not too far off from where she is and spots Vera. Incoming woman with a mask and cape, Vera. ]

Are you alright?

{Yata has been in quite a few fights- even a large scale one, considering that's what he was doing before he was transported into this world. But he'd never been in such a loosing battle like this. He's injuted, although not severely, and is surprised when someone is thrown into him. After getting his bearings, he immediately checks on the injured person that was thrown against him.]

O-Oi! You okay over there?

[He's attempting to pull the person, whose identity he hasn't confirmed yet, out of the line of fire.]

Injured personnel, bloodied soldiers and scrappers, streaks of crimson over stone and steel, the faint scent of medicinal chemicals alongside singed flesh sticks to the air like smoke. Chokes out everything else. Announcement or not, it's obvious there's a war on, and that the odds aren't exactly in their favor. The sort of situation that inspires heroism, even in the most incapable ( pressure on a wound, applying a salve and enough gauze to fend off infection, carrying the injured a few steps over so they're not trampled in the chaos) and it means every hand is a necessary one for the Initiative.

But Chloe's are stuck down deep in her pockets instead.

She's not far off-- though not close enough to be directly insulting, either-- back set against a solid block of concrete, thumbs tracing the tattered hem of her trousers as she watches it all go down. Distance kept and forcefully disconnected from emotion, Chloe's scanning the scene for familiar faces or the faintest sign that she ought to duck and run. Portals aren't a one-way street, after all.

[ooc note: still on hiatus and tags will be slow, but I couldn't bear to miss this! COME TO MY ARMS IF THIS IS ACCEPTABLE]

Edited (Ooc notes are good) 2013-05-21 20:05 (UTC)

[In a sick way the teenager who found herself part of Johnny's troupe looks like a refugee from an alien Christmas party gone horribly wrong. Her white dress is thoroughly stained both with bright red blood in splatters - that of her enemies - and deep green in round patches... her own. (Here is where she will learn a ranged weapon is safer.) This motley melee mob's method is clearly well-suited to her chainsaw, which is essentially crimson at this point. She's been able to gather that Johnny is a good leader in this Earth location, and so after the first wave they encountered is dispatched, she looks to him for guidance.]

Where to next?

One of the ground troops - well, Meliantha - sees the dragon, and realizes it HAS to be another Transport. She waves her blade - aflame, easier to spot - and gestures down one of the twisting streets. With her eyesight, Khisanth can easily see her say, "Ground troops this way."

Then she turns, waiting for the bombardment of acid, so she can go in to follow up on what little the acid of a black dragon doesn't melt.

a. your eye in the (not really) sky, in Paris

[ Caesar's no fighter, which begs the question why he answered the Initiative's call at all, but he has his reasons. No, he's no fighter, but this wouldn't be the first time he's done what he's up to here. The last time it was only a shambling army of mutated monsters, though. This is... horrifyingly different. Even his experience from the second Fire Bringer war doesn't come near this destruction, nowhere near this, but he'll forge on regardless.

What Caesar does is put his weapon to good use. With his spyglass ignoring obstacles, seeing right through them, and seeing much farther than it should ever be had it been normal, he picks the job of finding very high spots (thankfully, while still not a fighter, he is one hell of a climber) to search out locations of both the UE troops and the Transports, giving out directions over whichever way they're keeping communications between them up. Radio, network, he has both figured out by now.

He'll be handing out warnings such as this: ]

Whoever that is closing in on the giant metal tower's big pavilion, you're about to run right into a full UE platoon. They have it locked down, avoid it.

[ And so on and so forth. ]

b. on the move, still in Paris

[ Of course, he can't easily stay in one place while doing that. He stays on the move, running across rooftops and even making the jump between the ones that are feasibly close together. More often, he has to take to the streets to get across or suddenly dive into windows as he clambers down fire escapes to avoid being spotted.

It's more work than he's used to. On the occasions he has to go into a building, he'll stop there to catch his breath, so he might be found in some random person's room from time to time. ]

c. back again, the Hold

[ But the loss is inevitable.

He'd known that from about an hour into the fighting in Paris that they wouldn't win. It's a miracle he hasn't ended up dead during the fight, too, but then again, he had no intentions on engaging the enemy himself. He does come back dirty, a little bruised, a little bloody, and reeking of fire and smoke, however, and exhausted, dragging himself back through the hold behind the rest returning from Paris. ]

Edited 2013-05-21 19:48 (UTC)

a
[He can't fight. Even though he's diligently attended practice the past few months, the thought of shooting at another human being makes him nauseous, not to mention the fact that the enemy was trained. Even back home, when he had the safety of the Eva's cockpit and NERV's support the battles had been close. He stood no chance in a real battlefield, and he knew it.

But he can help.

For once, he isn't cowering. People he knew had left to fight. For someone as worthless as him, the least he could do was to provide support. He has little medical knowledge and isn't suited to be a healer, so he's sent to run supplies instead. Any requests might be attended to by him in a prompt manner, though he can't hide the disbelieving stare on his face when he sees an injured patient.]

b
[The sight of the injured is taking a toll on him. During a rare lull he leans against the wall in a corner, slumped over with a hand pressed over his mouth.

This is a war, they told the Transports when they arrived. Truthfully, Shinji had never felt it--he'd never experienced it firsthand until now and remembering the sight of gashes and blood brings him visceral memories of monstrous guts flying into the air and the sickening spray of gore--

He feels sick.]

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Other Worlds: V 2.0

Barney Cahloun, OTA

1320

no subject

Med'an in CALL OF MEDAL OF HEROES BATTLEFIELD WARFIGHTER - Open!

Meliantha: Open. Welcome to Japan.

no subject

open!

open!

London - OTA

open

open

Jim Raynor, OTA

B

closed for gilbert nightray

open!!

open

Open!

OPEN

a

Misaki Yata | K Project | B

Exsilium: OTA for positive or negative cr | During or after the battle

Sort of intermediate between your starters - 1030 temporally perhaps

A

open

open