( open ) our ag wing's back and you're gonna be in trouble (hey now! hey now! our ag wing's back)

[initiates]

Date & Time: October 31st, 3313, 11:59PM - November 3rd, 3313, ????
Location: Agriculture Wing, Moon Base to start. Cafeteria, warehouse, docking bay, VR rooms, Transport Pad, or Observatory later on.
Characters: Any & all!
Summary: Space Zombies are allowed out of the Agriculture Wing, slowly revving up their systems to try and infect and absorb as many of the Transports (or 12 Initiative Members) as possible.
Warnings: Log will be locked for potentially graphic violence. Please warn in threads should the violence or gore become graphic.
Notes: Specify a date and location in your top comment. You may specify multiple dates/locations. Specify a time if you wish as well.

Everything is a success at first, from the cool rush of air out of the Agriculture Wing once the doors are fully unlocked, to the heady sense of accomplishment for finally moving forward on something good for the long-term usability of the Moon Base. It's intended to remain a resource, after all, but not be a permanent home. Fraying tempers and the sense of cabin fever descending on Transports continues to showcase how important it is to get back down on Earth to regain some breathing room.

There's little enough dust between all the unmoving, unlit structures, many even supporting the barest dried husks of what once grew there. Upon the lightest touch, they disintegrate, turning into a dust that falls to the ground. The silent rows will be reclaimed and turned into functioning units, based on Transport efforts, and Transport time invested in the project.

There's just one problem. Something stirs in the reclaimed wing, among tangles of hosing and wiring. Skitterings and movements that make no sense for a long abandoned Moon Base. The further in Transports go, relying on magic or technology to generate light past the bare minimum maintained by the base, the more disturbing sights they may run into.

Of course, the most disturbing of all might be lying just around the far corner -- but don't worry, it's only a flesh wound. Try not to get surprised in the machinery, caught suffering from not looking up or caught making out with anything unsavory this holiday season, Transports. We need all of you to stay alive!

We can't bring you back right now!

Comments

[khajidont]

H - [he stumbles over her name for a moment, the familiar voice overriding the costume, but he catches himself:] Huntress?

[Wow. That's something else. He's never really seen her in action before. He had known that she must be impressive, running out there without any powers aside from the training of her own body in the streets of Gotham of all places, but having the visual to pair with it is quite amazing. It's hard to reconcile that image with the one he's become familiar with.

Another necromorph springs from off of the ceiling and roaring down between them. It's easy for Jaime to dispatch it with a swing of his armblade, slicing it clean across its midsection and leaving it falling uselessly to the ground.

Others have to work twice as hard for Jaime's results. It will make him uncomfortable, later on, knowing how much easier it is for the suit to kill than to subdue. This is what it's made for, what he himself had been meant for. For now, he merely hops over the necromorph to rush over to Helena.] Hey. How're you doing out here?

[crossbearing]

( Helena's taking the beheaded necromorph apart as it starts to grab at her leg. She can't be as fast as Jaime, she hasn't got alien technology, but there's something brutally efficient in how she does it. She's well versed in killing, gutting and skinning, and this needed be so careful as all that. )

I'm having a whale of a time.

( It's a force of habit that sends her voice different as the Huntress, but this is harsher than Jaime's ever heard it, the brutality of the day bringing out the most dangerous side of her. )

You look like you're handling things okay. ( But she's watching him carefully, because she doesn't know how far Jaime's moral code extends to monsters, to monsters that used to be human. )

[khajidont]

[It's not difficult to see how much this unsettles Jaime as he stares down at the necromorph. Helena's dealing with this with a practiced hand, and he understands that, he does. He's doing the exact same thing as the Scarab sings instructions merrily away in the back of his mind.

It's still too much, all of this is, this relentless rain of terror and gore differently horrifying from what he had seen on Elmer's world.

Still, he got most of his freaking out done when this all began, and now's the time to do what they have to. They're not people anymore, just monsters. He can see that.]

Yeah, [he says, his own voice slightly distorted through his tech but still as quiet and gentle as ever.] I'm doing okay.

Here, let me help. [Cloaked in this armour as he is, Jaime has the luxury of grabbing onto the necromorph's shoulder with something akin to respect before the blade morphs into a gun to shoot a blue light at the creature, burning away at it until it stills.] Is that what you have to do to all of them? [Tear them apart? Gut them?]

[crossbearing]

My general rule is that the more pieces something is in, the less easily it can come after you.

( Rough, and another day she might kick herself for the brutality she's bringing to the table when he's already seen too much. Instead, she simply takes a moment of pause, before amending. ) Just destroying the brain or beheading didn't do the trick. This way they can't go after someone else after I've moved on.

( Even as she lets him help - his powers are terrifying, and she can't imagine what would happen if they were in the hands of someone less idealistic, less morally upright than Jaime, because she almost dreads what she would do with those powers - she rests a hand on his shoulder. ) There's nothing wrong with taking some time out. How long have you been out here?

( Which, admittedly, could be a difficult claim to back when there are groans from not too far away, and she's readying her crossbow. )

[khajidont]

[That's a disgusting way of putting it, but Helena's right. It's no different from tearing the legs off of an insect, never mind the fact that Jaime's never been the sort to do that in the first place.] No, no, I'm good. Promise.

[He straightens the slump in his shoulders, as if to reassure her of the truth of his statement. He doesn't intend to stay out here longer than he can feasibly handle, which doesn't mean that he's not willing to stretch himself to his limits. Other people may only be able to dispatch one at a time. Jaime has a little more than that at his disposal.]

Look, for something like this, I've got - I mean, this isn't what I do, but. If we really need to kill all of these things, it's what the suit does. Really, really well.

[He needs to make that distinction, between what the suit can do and who he is. The suit's a part of him, attached to his bones and his blood and his breath, however that's not the sum of him. He doesn't kill the ways the suit is made to, quickly and indiscriminately.

But he can. And today, he will.]

There's more coming. I can hear 'em.

[crossbearing]

All right.

( She doesn't buy it, not from Jaime simply because he's Jaime, but all right. Her hand squeezes his shoulder before dropping away, as if lingering might make him think she has her doubts, as if this is a moment for anything but pushing themselves. )

Don't worry. Killing is what I do well, too. ( Softly, as she draws a second knife and hooks her crossbow back into its holster. This is all her, no suit. ) Does your suit do better with melee or ranged combat?

( So far, it seems like it can be pretty versatile. )

[khajidont]

[He shrugs.] It does both as well as I need it to.

[Though he's been sticking more to melee combat, mostly. It's a lot less pleasant for him, getting up close and personal to these creatures and seeing the blood and gore and bone for himself, but it just feels safer in crowded areas.

Still, it's isolated enough here, and as one comes peeling around the corner, it's easy enough to allow the blue laser to burst forth from his arm, darting across the hallway like lightning and stopping the necromorph in its tracks. It takes more time than it would for a typical human, perhaps, but it's as fast as using the blades.

What was the Reach planning on doing with him?

As he fires, he speaks:] I've got to be careful with it if I don't have a clear view, though. I don't wanna hurt anyone by accident.

[crossbearing]

Don't worry. I'm a tricky target.

( Sometimes. You know, when it's not winter and there's the Joker and a giant trap and so on. Maybe it's better he doesn't know about that. )

You're a good guy, Jaime. ( He remembers what's important. Sometimes Helena wonders if the rest of them are losing sight of that. Barbara, her, all the rest. He's naive and idealistic and there's something in that to be protected, as dangerous as it might be. )

But if you ever need to take down a target and I'm in the way? I'll kick your ass for not taking the shot. ( Just saying, as she wipes down her knife. )

[khajidont]

What, there's no third option before I go ahead and fry you?

[Doing anything at all to hurt anyone caught in the cross-fire is absolutely out of the question. He's been unsure about the title of superhero for a while now, but superhero or not, he's not planning on hurting an innocent person.

And with the firepower he needs to use on the necromorphs, it's not down to hurting an innocent person. If they are human, it will kill them immediately. He knows that.

More than that, he would never hurt Helena.]