exsiliumlogs | (CLOSED) My hands are tied, for all I've seen has changed my mind

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(CLOSED) My hands are tied, for all I've seen has changed my mind

Date & Time: Forward-dated to Nov. 16 0300hrs through Nov.19th ~0230hrs
Location: Observatory, East Loading Bay, Transporter Room, Various (read: everywhere)
Characters: Pro-Initiative and Mutineer action teams
Summary: With mutineers occupying the transporter room and vital base systems hamstrung, Pro-Initiative forces work against mutineer teams to bring those systems back online and reach the transporter room.
Warnings: None yet (will update as necessary...because lbr ‘none yet’ isn’t going to last long)
Notes: All threads, with the exception of the Transporter Room B, are open for posting beginning now. Transporter Room B will kick off on Nov.16th proper in order to incorporate decision making from earlier action team’s choices and to maintain tonal cohesion. Community wide mingle log for the mutiny will go up on Nov. 16th.

[At 0300hrs on November 16th, things suddenly go wrong. The network cuts out, lighting abruptly goes from artificially sterile to the unsettling flickering of red emergency lighting. Furniture, supplies and even Transports suddenly find themselves untethered from the ground as the base’s gravity regulation abruptly shuts down; moreover, it isn’t long before Transports begin to realize they’ve been locked off from anything but the housing(/restrooms), vr and cafeteria sections of the base. Not long after:

Click-HHHSSSHK-click!

A woman’s voice speaks over the moon base’s PA system, echoing through the dark corridors and off the odds and ends gently floating through them thanks to the lack of gravity regulation. The voice is rich and accented, with a certain practiced ease to it - one that sharpens to a point the longer she talks:]

Testing. Testing-- are we good? Christ, I'm not echoing, am I? No?

All right good. Listen up, fellow transports. As you might have noticed, some of the base's general systems have gone offline: this, I assure you, is absolutely intentional. There's no need to panic.

So moving on from the understandably frustrating to the even more frustrating, I'm sure you all have also noticed the fact that we're currently all stuck-- starving and defenseless-- on the bloody moon. In a base that was, up until a few days ago, overrun with zombies. And before that, thousands of lives were bombed right out of existence, and before that, an entire world-- and before that we were all still being thrown at the United Earth for the sake of dying off repeatedly in a war we never stood a chance or had a say in. Transports have been treated like pawns since day one, and I'm sorry, but we don't deserve it.

If we're giving up our lives and our freedom, I'd say it's about time we earned ourselves a little equality.

We deserve a say in what goes on in this fight, and with that in mind, a few of us have decided to hold onto the transporter for a while. Just until the Initiative agrees to treat us like people instead of ammunition. Trust me, we’re not here to hurt anyone; none of this has to end badly. But it does need to end. Things have got to change. And if this is what it takes? This is what it’s going to be.

We need your help; please don’t make it any harder for us.

[The PA clicks off, pitching the base once more into complete radio silence.

Over the course of the next four days, pro-Initiative transports gather their resources and individuals form impromptu (or well planned) teams to bring these systems back online and out of the hands of mutineers so they can ultimately reach the transporter room and set things to right -- whatever that “right” may be.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[This isn't how this was supposed to go, but that's something Charlie thinks they've all been aware of since day two. If there was a point where this was going to go smoothly for them, where this wasn't going to end in a way that didn't involve them being drug out by the scruff of their necks-- it'd come and gone.

A fact that made all that more abundantly clear by the noises coming from outside. The explosion from the east loading bay is loud enough to penetrate the locked door, loud enough that it makes Charlie flinch. He shoots Chloe a sidelong glance, features momentarily stricken, before he looks on to Tempest.]

If you've got anything to reinforce this place with, you might want to do that now. Tess, keep an eye on them. ['Them' meaning the two remaining Initiative members in the room -- who Charlie swings to look at, hackles finally on the rise. It's been four days. Too long for this bullshit.]

It sounds like your friends mean business.

On it. [There's no bullshit, no little joke when she answers because they are up the river, and fucked as much as they can be. The explosion would've been funny if it didn't make her stomach twist, so there's just a nod before she's turning to the other two in the room, a hand reaching behind her. She doesn't pull her weapon out, doesn't want to.

But that's just instinct to think about it, so she relents and drops her hand to her side instead, holds onto the flashlight she's got in the other one. ] No one's screwin' around here, huh.

I don't have anything that will reinforce. Only something that may keep the doors shut, but I would not count on it.

[it comes out a bit more breathlessly than she'd like. She'd been listening to the fight outside, and that was some serious shit going down. Heard it better than anyone in here, either, and if she's just a bit paler than normal, well, that's the reason why.

She lets go of the teleport trap spell - that'll do no good now, all things considered, so she has her full attention on whatever plans to come through that door]

I've got protection spells - that is it. [she's already mentally chanting the spell to that, ready to cast as soon as she gets the okay]

Well I dunno about you, but I'd feel one hell of a lot better with those already up and running. [The defender's tucked away at her back; she decides she'd rather have the weight of a rifle-- one with a year's worth of exsilium experience-- in her hands once the sound of the explosion clears. Not that she expects to use it, but she's seen the network: talk of air locks and hangings and livid, genuine threats.

She'd rather not run into any of those options if it can be helped.

The look Charlie finds when he glances off in her direction isn't exactly inspiring.] No telling who's on the other side of that door.

[she flicks her hand, a bubble appearing them, then fading from sight. She's screwed if there's someone out there who can dispel her magic, doubly-screwed if anyone out there has dark magic.

She draws her sword and holds it down to the side after]

Someone very violent, from the sound of it.

Good.

[Lowell comments from a dark corner of the room. He's been sitting there for the past day or so (what is time, in a dark room, in space?) and feeling more than a little spiteful.

"You all deserve it" goes unsaid, but with the tone of his voice in that one word, he might as well have said it.]

Easy, easy. [Charlie holds out a hand toward Tempest. He doesn't like the look of this any more than anyone else, but drawing swords is a good way to get them killed outright if what's happening outside those doors is what it sounds like.

He's not usually one to think first, hit second but it sounds like they've got people coming from both sides. That demands some modicum of strategy. Which is why, after almost four days of this shit, it's time to make some bloody decisions. He looks to Chloe, catches her eye. The corner of his mouth tugs and it isn't really a grin, but it's something before he set his jaw and round on Lowell and Richard.

His voice is even, though only just.] You don't have to do it our way, you understand me? But you've got to do it theirs - they've proven they're not dangerous to you and this is as close to agreeing on something as they're every likely to get. So work with them to prioritize the missions that get us off this rock.

We didn't harm you even when we could've. I know you're not happy with us, but for Christ's sake let us be the bad guys so those wankers can stay focused on something for once. So they'll get something done and get all of us out of this mess alive, yeah?

Edited (herp derp editing for clarity) 2013-11-19 21:11 (UTC)

[It's not the ideal scenario for a negotiation, but for them-- for the too-tight spot they're currently stuck in hearing the dull, muffled echo of sound through steel that isn't anything close to reassuring-- it's the best they can manage. This is as far as it all goes.

So Charlie and Lowell sort the details and for once she's the one focusing on the physical side of things; Charlie's rough but he's stable. Knows what this is about to the point that they've run this entire routine as opposite sides of the same coin. And right now, with the urge to run going off like a silent alarm in the back of her head, Chloe trusts him to make that last minute plea better than she ever possibly could.

But the clatter outside gets progressively louder, punctuated at the end by a shrill, desperate scream. Howled out by an unmistakable voice. Marking a dead drop off into what feels like silence by comparison. Chloe's fingers are curled around the grip of her rifle (index on the trigger) before she even bothers thinking about it.

It's heavy, and it's solid, and she's clinging to it like a bloody lifeline.]

[Now that they've dealt with their opposition, it's time to handle the final obstacle. Koltira works with Hitusgaya and Lightning, combining the strength of their respective powers to coat the doors with layers of freezing water and thick, shimmering ice. The intense cold makes the doors brittle, and Koltira smiles grimly as he runs a gloved hand over the devastating combination of their spellwork. His ears twitch as he listens to the vague noise beyond the door -- and his tattoos react to the presence of someone else's magic.

He lifts Byfrost, then brings the weapon down with furious force, slamming the broad side of the massive runeblade against the weakened doors. There's a horrible sound of crumpling, crumbling metal at the doors give way, then shatter entirely.

He steps through the rubble, motioning for the others to follow.]

This foolishness ends now.

Edited 2013-11-19 23:29 (UTC)

[That's one way to put it. Lightning steps into the room beside Koltira, blade still in hand and eyes narrowed as she takes a quick moment to survey the room. To count the numbers they're up against...it shouldn't be a problem.

Still, she holds her silence. There's nothing she could say that Koltira hasn't already said, and her opinion from earlier stands in her mind. She just stands, blade in hand and stance ready to launch her forward into the fray if need be, the look on her face promising a good whack or spell for anyone who attacks.

It's been too long a week for her. For all of them.]

[as the door starts to crumble, Tempest sheathes her sword. The only reason she does is because of Charlie, and because really, she made a promise not to get herself killed. And that was going to happen if she faced them headlong with a sword out. She's not defenseless, though; she's got her spells, the barrier's up around them, and the only thing that would bring it down was either stronger mage or some anti-magic spells. And—

Of course it's a god damn elf. Of course. She finds herself stepping forward a step or two, so that in the event of an attack, she can step in front of Chloe and Charlie. Because they're just humans with only weapons on hand. She can play defense and offense if need be with her magic alone, and who knows what kind of magic the elf and the others had.

She applauds herself for keeping her voice calm and even]

Then put away your weapons as a show of good faith, first.

[Of course it would be Koltira through the bloody door first. Of course. Because nothing about this has been simple or easy. It's a struggle to follow his own advice and not draw his gun - not because he expects the elf to be unreasonable, but Charlie knows well enough what Koltira's capable of when he wants to be.

The fact that he's here at all probably means he does.

Charlie still finds his hand straying to the Walther anyway - setting just there with his fingers loose against the grip of the pistol. Shit, shit, shit.]

Easy, mates. We can talk about this.

[The chill that seeps in from their combined spellwork is potent. Has the angle of Chloe's shoulders nothing short of sharp and tense to stave off the urge to shiver. She's not surprised that it's Koltira; she's even less surprised he killed Seviilia to force his way in.

And it's precisely where her focus lingers. Gun level with the dead center of his chest.]

What did you do?

[At this hostility, Koltira takes two immediate actions. First, he creates a zone of anti-magic, a translucent sphere that rises from the ground and hovers over them as a darkly iridescent dome.

Then, he steps forward, swiftly, and grabs Chloe's gun by the barrel. Ice coats the entire weapon, as thick and debilitating as the ice he had layered over the transporter's doors. Better yank that gun back before he crushes it in his fist, Chloe.]

How dare you raise your weapons to me.

[--shit that spreads fast. Offering just barely enough time for Chloe to yank her arm back before the rime crawls far enough to hit skin. She's not thinking. Not really, anyway. Raw and unfocused from lack of sleep, lack of progress, lack of support from someone she'd thought she could rely on.]

Get your hands off of me. [Her spare hand's already at her back when she snaps, unlatches the holster there within less than a beat and-- knowing full well it's nothing to someone like him-- snaps off two shoulder shots with her defender.]

[The force pushes him back a few steps, but that's all. He scowls in rage and disbelief, and then there's a hissing rush of released power as he draws on his arcane torrent -- temporarily silencing her and everyone else in the room.]

If you have something to say, you will soon be free to say it. But I will not tolerate a long discourse. This has carried on for long enough. You have carried on for long enough.

[He slams Byfrost into the ground, scowling at Chloe.]

And you have lost.

[The Defender's a small caliber weapon, but the crack of the shots is loud. And it makes him jump despite years of not flinching at the sound of a gun going off. But before he can say or do anything, the-- magic, spell, enchantment, shit he doesn't know which it is or if it's something entirely different takes hold. When he opens his mouth, nothing comes out.

What he can do, however, is grab Chloe by the collar of her clothes and haul her back a few steps as he draws his own weapon and levels it right back at Koltira.]

[Good faith goes both ways. So long as one of them has a weapon out, so will Hitsugaya. However, he keeps it lowered at his side, in a nonthreatening position. Guns mean little to him, but he'll not have one of them with a weapon ready while he doesn't.

[He scowls at Chloe when the shots ring out, but makes no move to attack. A warning glance goes in Koltira's direction when it becomes apparent that he's unable to speak at the moment. They did not come here for things to end with any kind of violence. There's been one death; there don't need to be any more.]

[there is a lot of magic here and Tempest can't use any of hers - can't talk, can't curse him out because she'd really like to right now - probably for the best, at least. As the anti-magic crawls up, she watches her spell simply dissipate like it was never there at all.

She drops her hand to the hilt of her sword and steps back, but doesn't draw just yet; it's habit, and she can't use her damn magic so it's the next best thing she has to feeling a little less defenseless]

[Koltira grinds his teeth at this disrespect, this insult. But he stays where he is, hands on Byfrost's hilt, and the sword itself still balanced horizontally, its blade scratching the ground.]

Your dishonor disgusts me.

[Only seconds after the slam of Koltira's sword into the ground, there's another, louder, one from the East Loading Bay door as Raiden comes into the room. Kang immediately steps in with his hand on the hilt of the sword on his belt, glancing at the cyborg to make sure he's okay before checking out the room itself.

He nods at the other team after seeing that they appear to be fine, and turns to regard the mutineers with narrowed eyes.]

Your people outside are fine.

[He briefly points out the door he just came in, aiming his Weapon at the mutineers.]

We don't need any further violence.

[Raiden swoops to the side and crouches low behind Kang, ready to defend anyone else who comes through the door after them. For now, he says nothing.

The Draconian is much better with words than he is.]

[Charlie are you trying to get yourself killed? Jesus Christ. Without the luxury of words, though, getting the point across is left to an acute, incredulous stare.

Till the second welcome party elegantly smashes their way in, that is. Fortunately enough (despite being unable to glance around Charlie enough to fully make out Kang and his companions) she gets her voice back just in time to snap out a response:] Not all of them.

[ Not too long after Kang and Raiden have stepped into the room, another shadow, a figure of black and red, slips through the door. Batwoman scours the room and everyone inside quickly, though she doesn't tear forward. She remains on guard by Raiden and Kang's sides, deactivating the infrared in her mask to see whatever expression Charlie wears in this moment.

She's mad, but cooler heads prevail. The gash on her arm continues to burn exposed to air, the occasional droplet of blood hitting the floor. ]

[Charlie's jaw is set, gun arm steady and his fingers still twisted in the fabric of Chloe's shirt. He's not strictly standing between her and the the people there for their proverbial heads, but he's not exactly out of the way either. He doesn't dare take his eyes off them to shoot Tempest a look, but he trusts her to be sensible.]

So then, what's your daring plan? [It should be a joke, but it isn't. His tone is flat and dangerous, dead serious.]

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