exsiliumlogs | Cometh the Big Crying Wheel

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Cometh the Big Crying Wheel

Date & Time: Sept 15th
Location: A refurbished castle on the outskirts of Exsilium.
Characters: Anyone at the party!
Summary: Vanadi hosts a party that goes very poorly.
Warnings: Violence, probably! Let a mod know if we should update this.

It’s a lovely night for a party!

The venue at the outskirts of town is, unfortunately, a bit drafty — and actually rather sparsely furnished, as well. In fact, party goers are encouraged to mingle, drink, and enjoy themselves in the courtyard, as the castle itself wasn’t able to be renovated in time, and has proven to be a little bit architecturally unsound. Any explorative guests might find a small hail of dust and pebbles on their heads if they venture too far in — and who knows what else, if they continue on.

But the drinks and snacks both are plentiful and delicious, and the large canvas set up from castle wall to castle wall keeps off the sprinkling rain. The weather could even be described as warmish and pleasant, if one were feeling generous. A group of Exiles plays classic instruments in one corner of the courtyard, having been paid enough to even smile at any Transports that wander near.

All in all, it’s shaping up to be a good night. Until about 10 PM, that is. Come 10 PM, the Misery rolls into town, tearing down the canvas, nullifying powers, and crying corrosive blood everywhere. That’s the cue for all hell to break loose, as the final wave of mind-controlled characters snag their victims and make for the hills — or at least for the UE. The mind-controlled characters will also have the backup of a squadron of 20 of the Masked, the UE's special ops force. The Masked's main goal is to grab those on their list and get away, but they're certainly not above shooting to kill at anyone that gets in their way. They're also highly trained in hand-to-hand combat and physically enhanced by their suits, so they're a good bunch to try to avoid.

But do have a wonderful time until then, won’t you?

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[ --damn, of course, that's why--

Either in surprise at the realization (of course you had to be actually blind to not see the abomination taking up half the sky), or because it's clear he has the other's attention, Chrys loosens his grip just enough-- he doesn't let go, but Break's more than able to pull free with a hard tug, if he tries to.

A glance behind at the turmoil, and back at Break. Clipped words tumble rapid-fire from his mouth, clear, concise, and tightly controlled. Determined. ]

I'm Chrysos, a Transport-- we're under attack. The United Earth is here, they've brought a great flying-- [ what to even call it--? ] --beast-machine with them, it's destroying this place-- all are fleeing, you need to as well, this instant.

[ In situations like this, when he can't use his senses to navigate, he can call on the power of his Chain, Mad Hatter to-- Except he can't. It's not responding. ]

Ah--

[ He'd foreseen some sort of attack. But he'd miscalculated, fatally. He'd felt somewhat reassured by the strength of his friends' powers; but he hadn't counted on the United Earth's ability to make something resembling a sealing stone. Without their powers, Gilbert is just a young man with a gun, Collette a girl in a wheelchair, and Oz--

Oz! ]

No, I've got to--!

[ Find them! But how? If they were using their powers, he could sense them. But like this, in this madness, blind, he is helpless to find anybody.

Helpless. He needs help. ]

You, Chrysos! I'm looking for Oz Vessalius, do you know him?

[ "Oz Vessalius". There's only one Oz he knows of, knows, and brings to mind a smiling face across a cafe table barely two weeks ago. Chrys casts another look at the crowd even as he answers, gambling on it. ]

Blonde short-hair, green-eyed, roughly fourteen or fifteen-- correct? I know him.

[ And it's not hard to guess, from the look on Break's face and his tone, how much he's likely to want to look for him. ]

I'll search for him-- but you've got to move, this whole pavilion is collapsing as we speak!

Yes, that's him!

[ He's beginning to reorient. He still can't hear anything useful - it's a wall of noise in the courtyard - but he can sort of tell where the center of everything is. He'll just rush into it, and sort things out somehow. ]

Come on!

[ He jerks away from Chrysos' grasp and heads off in a determined fashion. There's a scrum of very large UE soldiers directly in his path, and they seem to have taken notice of him, because they turn and head towards him.

Break doesn't break stride. It's unclear whether he has sensed them. ]

[ The center of everything which happens to involve not only the aforementioned scrum of elite soldiers on the way there but the giant acid-blood-crying abomination at the heart of it.

Really?? Really???

Xerxes might find himself promptly restrained by two arms-- hard muscle through and through-- grabbing him under the shoulders, holding him back iron-fast from taking another step. ]

Wait! That's towards--

Edited 2013-09-17 21:27 (UTC)

[ Xerxes Break has a sixth sense when it comes to sensing assailants with malevolent intent. There's a twitch of a smile as he straightens up and prepares himself to-- ]

--GAAAAH!

[ On the other hand, when it comes to friendlies, he has a massive blind spot. He's caught completely by surprise and by his shoulders, and the strength of Chrysos' grip is enough to actually jerk him up off the ground so his legs are dangling. Oh he is furious, furious! ]

Edited 2013-09-17 22:24 (UTC)

[ Killing this idiot would cause hard feelings (though it's tempting, he would just wake up in the Initiative labs later and wonder what happened...), and knocking him out would be a bother, so he swings his cane around behind him with a blow that isn't particularly forceful, but is precisely aimed - for Chrysos' ear.

3-2-1 until your head feels like it's exploding, helpful stranger. ]

[ It's a matter of fact that some measure of struggle is to be expected, that he might have to physically drag Break to a different course (desperation is understandable, the panic that could take hold of anyone missing Someone Important in a situation like this, but this kind of sheer recklessness has to be stopped) and he tries to keep talking over Break's outburst, listen, light damn it, they'll be faster if they're both running the same way instead of one hauling the other-- ]

--calm down! You're going towards the soldiers and the---

[ CRACK.

Well. That wasn't expected. ]

---hrnragh!!

[ Break's feet land back on the ground, the arms jerking loose, though not unbending themselves. ]

[ From the point of view of the UE soldiers, this looks like one Transport trying to kidnap another, which was the whole point of this shindig, so they hesitate for a moment--

Until Break breaks free of Chrysos' grasp and Something Very Fast happens. ]

Soldiers, you say? Hm! Pretty low standards, haha!

[ Break has mastered the most irritatingly smug of smug voices, and he's using it now, as he stands with his sword drawn and dripping. At his feet are corpses (or very soon to be corpses). ]

Well, anywaaay~! I'm going to look for Oz and Collette. Cheeriooo~! ♥

[ And then he's walking right into the center of everything like a Big Damn Hero... ]

[ Which is when the Big Damn Crying Wheel (that he can't see) strafes him with burning acid blood. ]

ARRRRGH!

[ There's a jackhammer still pounding at the side of his head and purple spots dancing in front of his eyes, and it's for as much of the shock as the pain itself that it takes a moment longer than it would've for him to register the empty air in front of him and the blur of movement, the dull successive thumps---

(eyes widening, bodies, they're bodies, hitting the ground, no more than total two point five seconds, how--)

---and the utterly infuriating voice that cuts through the cold realization, laughing, at him, or at the soldiers, or both, as it waltzes off further into the fray, and there's a fleeting, fleeting thought of just leave that lightdamned bastard be-- ]

[ A thought that vanishes as soon as it came, the moment he hears (more than sees) the splash and hiss and scream. ]

Tch--!

[ A glance up at the Misery, at the beading red globs gathering and spilling about its eyes, even as Chrys runs snap calculations through his head (estimated time to the next rain of blood over Break's location, five point two) and his feet are already moving forward, hands whipping his coat off him, winding the thick fabric roughly around his hands. It takes just a few quick strides to catch up to that Big Damn Fool, after all, and another second to grab for him, intending to haul him up and out of this goddamned disaster area, if they aren't shot at or drowned in acid first. ]

Edited 2013-09-18 06:43 (UTC)

[ Walk it off, walk it off. It's not as if a little thing like pain is going to slow him down. Quite honestly, the chronic burden of his Chain hurts more than the acid, he'd just been surprised by it, that's all. He can sense malevolent intent all around him, and he's about to dart forward in another deadly-- ]

Wha--mmmmf! Mmm! Mmmmmm!

[ He's covered in something and caught and carried and his legs are dangling again. He is twisting, resisting, and kicking with all his strength. But the truly lethal part of him - his sword arm - is effectively pinned. ]

[ Pinned, and handled with the same caution as a live wire, and the same dignity as a sack of potatoes. Which is to say that Break finds himself not only carried but slung partway over a shoulder, as Chrys hightails it as fast as he can from the epicenter of the Misery's deluge. If by hightailing one counts "stomping heavily at a rapid pace due to increased load borne". ]

Light's sake-- grngh-- hold still! You've no idea what's above us--!

[ It looks enough like a kidnapping, maybe, that maybe they'll be able to get clear of the area and the rest of the soldiers (currently with their own kidnap-pees or engaged in other fights.) ]

[ This fool, this ridiculous fool! He leaves off struggling. It's useless. Perhaps if he goes limp, this fellow will relax his grip...

Because this operation had always been a grab-and-go sort of affair, it is already dispersing. Chrysos is moving away from the epicenter, and the epicenter is moving away from him, as the victims are overpowered and carried away.

His heart sinks. It's going to be over soon, and he didn't save anybody. ]

[ Seconds and minutes, precious seconds and minutes that could be used to save another, to look for the very person this man is after, wasted in this endeavour-- Chrys grits his teeth against the sights and sounds around him, behind them, all too keenly aware of how the best he can do is keep moving and hope not to be noticed, because hell if he'd be able to take on a single one of the soldiers, how useless in this field--

(and maybe, maybe he should've just left Break there to do so instead)

--and said grip doesn't ease until they've put at least two walls between them and the epicenter, amidst a few stragglers limping away or cowering where they hide among the piles of rubble and construction materials (hard to say which is which, now.) There's still the odd sounds of yelling behind them, mingled with gunfire, clashing weapons, hissing corrosion-- outcries of pain, of no, damn you and come back dispersed among them.

It's not as far away as he'd intended, but it's far enough. Curtly: ] I'm setting you down. [ Lowering Break's feet to the ground, finally. ]

Edited 2013-09-21 19:42 (UTC)

[ As soon as he feels Chrysos' grip loosen, he struggles away, and Houdini-like, wriggles out of the coat. He can barely hear the fighting now, just the wailing, defeated sounds of survivors. It's over. ]

Why--? Why!

[ He's furious. His sword is aloft. ]

Why did you - rescue me? You idiot! IDIOT!

Me, of all people!

[ Although he feels murderous and is vibrating with fury, he knows killing this man will accomplish nothing. He sheathes his sword. It becomes a cane once more. ]

[ He's swift steps back even before the sword (still dark with stains, with blood) flies into the air, cold sweat on the back of his neck, eyes on Break's hands, Break's face. Chrys has no illusions of his ability to subdue this man before him, now (to survive the attempt), but---

---idiot rings in his own ears, and teeth clench together as he straightens, glares daggers at Break. ]

You would have died, you lightdamned fool--- destroyed! Could you even tell of what was above you and that whole place?!

[ Fingers dig into his palm, a fruitless attempt to stop their trembling. ]

[ He opens his mouth to retort, but guilt is setting in. It's his fault for slipping away from Oz and Gilbert at the party. His fault for letting this oaf capture him.

More than that, it's his fault for trying to hide what he is from everybody. Concealing his blindness had been disastrous, back at home. Why did he think it would be any different here? Likewise he'd hidden his lethal strength from most people, following his natural instincts towards secrecy and allowing himself to be perceived as a frail, nutty clown. Somebody who needed rescuing. ]

That would have been okay. It would have been fine.

[ He leans on his cane, suddenly feeling very old. He's defeated, by his own stupid vanity, as much as the United Earth. ]

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Cometh the Big Crying Wheel

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