This is the end, but still your need is driven on

[liebe_krieg]

WHO: The Major, the Doctor, and their game pieces. I.e. EVERYONE.
WHERE: Throughout the City.
WHEN: The nights of Friday the 6th to Sunday the 8th.
WARNINGS: Violence and death galore.
SUMMARY: The Major and Doctor Einsturzen go to war for fun, and drag the entire City along for the ride.
FORMAT: Whatever works!

Nightfall was marked by fire. The subway station at East 42nd Street and Park Avenue rocked as a series of explosives ripped through the tunnels, setting everything ablaze, lighting up the evening and filling it with the terrified screams of civilians. That was the first. It was starting.

Across the City, there was movement from the underground. Vampires in trenchcoats and gas masks emerged onto the streets, bloodthirsty and vicious. Hounds the size of bears or larger, barely recognizable as what they once were, prowled from the alleys, saliva dripping from their jowls. Children in canine masks darted across the rooftops. All the while, more explosions tore across the City subway systems, as if keeping time for the two monstrous armies marching towards each other.

Anything that stood between them would be consumed-- natives, ImPorts, businesses, homes. Nothing was safe. This war would be winner take all, a prize of bloodshed and destruction to the psychopath left standing. The nights to follow would be long and full of terrors.

Comments

Hostage Rescue

[liebe_krieg]

Although no one would say it within the Major’s earshot and he himself would certainly never admit it, by the third night it was generally accepted among the Nazis that the hostage ploy was an absolute failure. The heroes of the City had not obligingly destroyed the Doctor, Nazi casualties were sky-high, and now hostile forces were surrounding the apartment building that served as the Major’s command centre, mostly to rescue those same hostages.

There was nothing for it but to make sure that the rescue ended in bloody, sorrowful failure. While the Major continued to conduct his war from the top floor, the kill order filtered down the ranks. Masked stormtroopers marched through the middle floors in pairs, taking up positions by each hostage’s room. When they were all ready, every one of the Major’s ‘assets’ would be liquidated at once- if they weren’t stopped first.

[onblackwings]

[ She's too large to get into the building without crushing the few people she actually likes, and her human shape is too frail to ever risk sending into a place like that. She could pick some other shape, rush in and cause damage that way — but she reluctantly doubts a single tiger or cockatrice would be nearly as effective as the heroes that have trained for precisely things like this ...Which is sort of painful to admit, but they are useful for rescuing things she values.

So she'll do what she does best, and let them do their parts. For now, that means darting about the building, dodging occasional counterattacks, and snapping up the Major's forces one at a time. Or several at a time, if she gets a tail sweep or wing into it. She's still not sure about her passenger (ugh, seriously, it's Batwoman), but at least they'd constructed a hasty rope arrangement to lessen the danger of falling off with all of Khisanth's twists and rolls. And she can see the value of having an extra pair of eyes in a fight, at least.

She's really not expecting much more use out of her than that, though. ]

[gevurah]

[ Kate still hasn't let go of her reservations, but time is of the essence here and she needs to get to those hostages before the Major puts another round in someone's head. Dick's died once, a fact that actually doesn't help ease her tensions.

Her cape and bright hair billows behind her, the chaos beneath them looking so small. She tightens her hold on the rope as they barrel forward. ]

Get us over to the south side of that building.

[ If she can slip into a large enough vent or through one of the windows, she can get inside the building without much difficulty. She's got a few leftover mini-bombs in her belt from home in case she needs to break down a wall or two. ]

[onblackwings]

[ Listen to her, issuing orders as if she were the Highlord. Khisanth snorts, and doesn't bother turn her head to speak. She trusts her voice is large enough to carry. ]

Not yet. The west side is too volatile to cross. [ She's been keeping track of the gunfire tearing out from the windows on that side, and it's definitely heavier. And bullets, while not lethal, tend to be more painful than arrows.

She does dart in closer though, snapping at the nearest men even if it means coming away with a mouthful of mostly concrete and glass shards. These windows are too damn small. ]

[gevurah]

[ She can't help a scowl. The longer they keep away from the building, the more her patience wanes. ]

I can get in if I'm close enough.

[onblackwings]

You'll get close enough.

[ That in an annoyed growl, with her patience already running short. And all it takes to snap it, as it turns out, is one shot too many fired from the roof. She wheels away and climbs, doing pretty much the opposite of getting to the south side of the building, right up until she dives for the rooftop regiment with one of her deafening screams. First out is a blast of acid, which eats into body armor and vampires alike. She hovers low enough to facilitate any leaping off of her back, but is more intent on swiping claws and tail down at the remaining attackers. ]

[gevurah]

[ It irritates her, though she soothes it over quickly by reminding herself to stay focused on the task ahead.

When they dip low, she begins to slide down the rope. Any enemies who get close get a boot to the face or chest, knocking them off the building. She cringes when Khisanth lets out a scream, but says nothing.

Ugh, the smell is repugnant.

Finally, she takes the plunge, gripping either side of her cape to glide down. As soon as her feet touches ground she makes a break for it. Chances are Dick and the others are at the bottom of the building. ]

closededed;

[doubleoohbaby]

[Between the restraints, the armed guards and the pool of bubbling acid beneath him, James was beginning to think his luck might have finally run out. He'd tested every knot on every rope that bound him and run every possible escape plan scenario through his head. Even if he could somehow escape the bindings and the chain he was tethered too, he'd still need to avoid the pit and take out two armed guards.

Yup, seemed pretty shitty to him. And as he drew ever closer, head first (he could feel the chemical burn at his face) James reflected on just how fucking painful this was going to be.

And then the noise comes. Enter the dragon, along with others, and James can only imagine the scene outside. Hope swells his chest and while his guards distract themselves with charging for the door in a panic state, Bond opts for yelling out for anyone to get their ass to him.]

Hey. HEY!

[onblackwings]

[ She'd dropped off Batwoman and gone back to her circling, harrying the outside attackers, and going at the building itself when she gets the chance. It's on one of these downward swoops that she catches the sound of an awfully familiar voice.

James. One of her reasons for being here. She twists about sharply in the air and rams herself into the building. Hind feet scrabble for purchase and find it half on a ledge and half buried in the building itself, while her forelegs begin clawing at the stone and mortar of the exterior wall. She'd heard him in here, she's almost sure. And if she'd been wrong, well, she can break down a few neighboring walls on the inside and see if that turns him up.

Try not to fall into the acid while she's digging, Mr Bond. ]

[doubleoohbaby]

[The whole building practically shakes at the impact and James instinctively holds his breath as it causes the chain he's suspended from the creak back and forth. Claws on stone is either very, very good or very, very bad, but hell, either way it's coming straight for him.

There's only one huge ass, black clawed beast he can think of and when he sees the light from outside breaking through, he can't help but encourage her on.] Hurry it up, darling, I haven't got all day.

[Unless it's some other massive black dragon, in which case, wow, coincidental and kinda awkward.]

[onblackwings]

[ There's a pause for just a moment, and a pair of angry orange yes replace the scrabbling claws. Just long enough to see that she's got the right cell, and then it's straight back to slamming a scaly black shoulder into the wall, and pulling out chunks with black claws.

As soon as she's able, she reaches a forearm through, finds the chain, and snaps it cleanly with a solid tug. And she's not going to let him drag through the acid on the way out, thanks, she's actually rather careful as she tugs her neatly wrapped up prize back through the hole. ]

[doubleoohbaby]

[Careful or not, he still braces himself with curling as much as he can in his current position and shutting his eyes for a few short seconds, half expecting a bath of acid and a whole world of pain.

Thankfully that never comes and he's soon feeling cool, fresh air (mixed with a fair bit of dust from the rubble) and being greeted with the sight of his favourite dragon ever. Also the only dragon he knows but yeah, still his favourite anyway.]

I suppose I owe you for this...

[redlooksgood]

[Jane's approach is much more head on, as in she jumps through a window hoping her thick skull will break the glass. The place is less organized that it probably wanted to be on account of a big ass dragon doing one hell of a job playing on the defense. Somewhere a smoke bomb goes off and Jane is stuck standing there for a long moment wondering if the hostages are even alive still.

Doors, doors and not a clue as to who is or what is behind them. It takes a few bullets for the lock to be blown off of door number one. Gun at the ready she enters with a grim smile.]

Knock, knock.

[backstabbing]

[Isabela had been kicked around plenty of times before, and she had been extra lippy since her capture. the Major must really not have enjoyed her story, because he and his minions had not gone easy on the pirate wench.

she was bruised, sporting a black eye, and one side of her mouth was puffy and scabbed over from having been hit in the face with the butt of the rifle. her wrists were raw and bloodied and there were probably other various bruises, cuts and marks along her arms, legs, and gut.

but nevertheless, at the sound of a woman's voice she looks up, and there's a devil-may-care grin. she's been through worse.]

About time.

[redlooksgood]

Are you alone?

[Even as she asked Jane scanned the room gun at the ready. Cautiously she moved towards the woman giving her a once over]

More importantly can you move on your own?

[backstabbing]

As far as my good eye can tell, I believe so. I certainly hope I don't need an eyepatch after this is all said and done. Oh the jokes would never end.

[there's a laugh, and she wriggles against her bindings. her legs are tied to each leg of the chair, her waist is also bound to the chair, and her hands are cuffed behind her back in handcuffs that are far too small and far too uncomfortable for a woman of her stature.]

Once I'm good and free, sweet thing, I believe so.

[redlooksgood]

Flirting at a time like this? I think I picked the right door.

[She bent down and pulled a knife from her boot. The bindings were tight, but it was a faithful knife and easily freed the woman's legs and waist. Jane stood back up and frowned at the cuffs]

You wouldn't by some miracle know where they kept the keys for this thing would you?

[backstabbing]

[she merely chuckles again in response, and there's a sense of relief as the bondage was cut loose and free.

don't think she'll be letting anyone else tie her up for some time now, she had her fill for the week.]

Unfortunately, I've naught a clue. But I do keep a lockpick around for special cases. I just didn't have it in an area I could quite reach.

[her eyes look suggestively down. why yes. she keeps a lockpick in her cleavage.

i mean seriously where else can she keep something on her in an outfit like that.]

Still can't, actually. But you might be able to.

closed;

[crab]

[ the upside was that he was free, and thanks to his sylladex, still armed.

the downside was that the place was still teeming with vampires, and karkat was battered and exhausted from the night's escapades. he'd been shunted upward, onto the roof, trying to deal damage while staying out of range of retaliation- with a close combat weapon most suited to grappling, and against creatures much stronger and faster than he is.

difficult.

he gets points for effort, though, screaming every threat and insult under the sun at his former captors when the blade of the sickle bounces off the iron collar around one of the vampires' necks with a clang and small shower of sparks. ]

[onblackwings]

[ Khisanth would have been enjoying this mindless killing much more if she weren't so pissed. She hates that she can't get into the building and grab her humans (and troll) for herself, she hates that she has to stay outside and wait for other people to do it for her. It's the first time her size has ever been a disadvantage, and she's not enjoying it.

So when Karkat makes an appearance on the roof, Khisanth's sharp eyes find him immediately. She folds her wings in, banking into an immediate dive, and doesn't flare them out to catch herself until she's landing directly behind — over, really — her charge. One swipe of her claws knocks away his vampire attacker, a second opens his chest. Body armor just doesn't do very much good against something as large as she is.

Only when that's done does she look down at the troll between her forelegs, angry orange eyes gleaming. ]

Finally.

[crab]

[ dealing with the same vampires he'd been dodging all night was one thing. their attacks were expected.

dealing with a gigantic acid breathing lizard landing near directly on top of him in one move and slaughtering his attacker in the next is another thing entirely and he is totally justified in his reaction, which is to let out a totally composed and dignified exclamation. ]

Holy noxious ass chunks, Khisanth, what the fuck?!

[ actually a pretty typical response to her. ]

[onblackwings]

[ She lowers her head until that giant snout and teeth are hovering just above Karkat, sniffing. She even flicks out a tongue to taste the air before she's satisfied. He doesn't smell bloody, so he can't be hurt too badly. That's good. Her spells have never included healing magic.

She looks up again just in time to blast a stream of acid at an onrushing vampire, then her attention returns to Karkat as the unlucky creature screams and sizzles. ]

You can ride or be carried. Decide quickly.

[crab]

[ he glares warily up at her when her breath ruffles his hair. his injuries are mostly bruises, bar four parallel gashes on his left calf and shin. trolls are sturdy creatures; karkat is fine, more or less. ]

Wh-- shit!

[ KHISANTH YOU'RE MORE INTIMIDATING THAN THE VAMPIRES ]

I'll ride. [ no way is he going to trust those claws around his person. ]

[onblackwings]

[ Well, those claws around his person is exactly what he's getting, because Khisanth doesn't feel like waiting for him to fumble his way up to her back. So she wraps one forepaw around his waist and simply lifts him into place between her wings. There's a pretty crude assortment of ropes in place there, which have already been used earlier today as a sort of makeshift saddle. Or at least a way to hang on while she's doing her crazy dips and dives. ]

Hold on.

[ And without actually waiting to see if he is or not, she snaps open her wings and leaps off the roof. Oh boy. ]

open!

[hackeralastair]

When the building started to shake from the dragon attacks outside, some of the vampire troops jumped to carry out their orders a little more quickly than others. The ones keeping Alastair subdued in a mid-level apartment barely checked to make sure no one was coming toward their position before bursting into the room and levelling their guns at him. "Wait," one muttered. "Don't go for the face. I want to feed."

Alastair had spent most of the day in a daze, expecting this very moment, but when he heard them, the tiny flare of courage buried deep under his issues sparked. For all the things he said and thought, he didn't actually want to be killed. When the muzzle of a rifle prodded him in the chest to rouse him - like they wanted him to pay attention when they executed him - he came to with a start of fear and the Oricalchos flashed on his forehead. He looked up at the two gas-masked vampires and began to struggle, and the more he freaked out, the more his power coursed through him. Neither of these two had been around him before, they didn't know what the green occult symbol meant, but they would soon find out. The one who poked him descended on him, casting aside the gun in favor of a knife, perhaps to slit his throat in preface to using him for dinner. Fear turned to rage, and with a scream, Alastair jerked upright and let the Oricalchos do whatever it wanted.

Arcs of green energy exploded around them. The same energy that destroyed the corner three-bedroom of Hell Towers now blasted a hole in the side wall of the building, cracked the vamps' guns in half, and ripped chunks of plaster out of the walls. The pair backed off, not prepared to deal with this. Alastair channeled his hatred of the Major into his power even though he had no control over whether it would destroy what he wanted it to. But two and a half days of being kept prisoner, beaten, and suffering had taken their toll. He had nothing in reserve, and the power sapped what little strength he had left. His uncontrollable rage was enough to send the pair of vampires running for the door, but then it expended himself and he collapsed face-down on the floor. He had managed to rip apart the chains and ropes keeping him bound, but then he fainted and lay there senseless in the middle of the rubble. There was no way he was leaving under his own power.