EARTH 24*(&A$%7HGKPOI

[capemods]

WHO: All transdimensional imPorts.
WHERE: The town of Capers.
WHEN: October 29th, dawn until noon.
WARNINGS: Definitely violence, but alert me if something else evolves and I can update this.
SUMMARY: After spending a few days in the town of Capers, Metamen move to strike against all targeted imPorts in a big dusty showdown.
FORMAT: As you please!



It looked like pearls had scarred the sky, when dawn broke. The crisp air cut through the easing night before the sun had its chance to bake the earth again; another day in the bold, bright west. If you are [1] mulling about, between bars or inns, if you're finding your way home from a bitter experience from the south or if you're dancing out of a fiendishly fun hall, you'll be the first to encounter your metaman. You might make eye contact, they might be stalking your shadow -- however it plays out, flip a coin to determine who shoots first. If it's heads, it's you. If it's tails, then you're on the defense.

If you're [2] sleeping like a healthy individuals, you'll be roused by a sound in your room. Your metaman has hunted your down and snuck into your living quarters -- it's vital that you draw the battle outside, into the open. Flip a coin -- if it's heads, then you're bound to injure at least one NPC in your struggle. If it's tails, then you lure out the metaman without grievous commotion.

Once you've established the attack, that's when you plan your showdown. You can fight with others in duos or groups. As long as your metaman CAN fight, they WILL follow you, even into other characters's battles. You can finish your fight and help out other imPorts, too. You can kill your metaman, or you can capture them -- if the latter happens, you won't get much out of them aside from the knowledge that Vulcanus knew the imPorts would be here, and they had assigned metaman agents to eliminate troublesome imPorts.

You might question this. It isn't Vulcanus's style, to pull such blatant punches -- even if natives and Vulcanus agents eat up that kind of "us versus them" rhetoric. But the metamen won't know the bigger picture, they're only pawns upon a board.

The locals of Capers can die. But do you really want them to?

Feel free to choose from these adventure prompts, which can happen at the start of your showdown, or after the showdown has begun:

[A]
Your metaman has caught you in the westward district. They've lured you into an abandoned dance hall, and they're attacking you from the audience. Wood splinters, glass shatters -- and you've got an entire showroom to stage your battle. Dressing rooms house backstage, the rudimentary catwalk looms above. Careful about the curtain call!
[B]
Having drawn you out eastward, your metaman thinks it's a good idea to go about attacking Town Hall. THAT'S WHERE MAYOR EISNER IS! Your metaman probably thinks you'll run through these hallowed wooden halls trying to save innocents from a gruesome death. Then again, Eisner did dictate your entire life based on a color choice...
[C]
Welcome to the darkened stables and pens that the corrals hold -- grunting dinosaurs snarl and hiss in the bleary dawn. You know your metamen is lurking here, hiding, waiting for you to drop your guard. You saw them come this way. Maybe they're thinking of using the barricades dinosaurs against you? This is the southward district, and not all of the captive dinos are herbivores.
[D]
Hey! You're northward! This is like the easiest, safest district to work in, whatever was your metaman thinking? There's like no way to break your game down and out and-- OH MY GOD YOU'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A MINOR METEORITE SHOWER THAT SEEMS TO ONLY BE AFFECTING THIS ONE BRANCH OF TOWN! The medical center just EXPLODED in a million splinters. Now you have to fight as meteorites rain down upon you in an orangeglow of burnished, lethal glory.
[E]
Well shit. You just brought your battle into a velociraptor nest. There are about TWENTY of these ravenous jerks, ranging from juveniles to fully equipped adults.
[F]
Player's unique choice!

IF YOU REJECTED YOUR CAPERS ROLE THEN
You're going to have local Capers lawmen up in arms with your metaman. Chances are, the latter has convinced the good people of Capers that you're a menace to society! A menace! They came with metal shackles! And they're riding angry dinosaurs!

IF YOU HAD A SERVICE ROLE which includes saloon worker, dino express rider, bartender, cowherd, merchant, mineral miner, railroad engineer, dance hall performer THEN
You flip a coin. If heads, then a fleet of stegosaurus infants will stampede between you and your metaman. If tails, then those infants will lead an ADULT stegosaurus right at you! And she is PISSED OFF.

IF YOU HAD AN AUTHORITY ROLE which includes deputy sheriff, gaoler, us marshall, pinkerton agent, railroad baron/ess, army scout, schoolmarm, hanging judge, town doctor, town barber THEN
You flip a coin. If heads, then a group of compsognathus will mistake your face for a lizard lunch, and try to consume it. If tails, then you will magnificently leap upon the backs of that compsognathus groups and hilariously ride to victory against your nemesis metaman.

IF YOU HAD AN INDEPENDENT ROLE which includes gambler, cowboy/girl, farmer, prospector, hired gun/mercenary, pioneer, snakeoil salesman, homesteader, town drunk, bounty hunter, drifter THEN
Flips a coin. If heads, then that roar you hear in the distance? It's a hungry tyrannosaurus rex headed in your direction. If tails, then it's TWO hungry tyrannosaurs rex adults, and they're battling each other over who gets to eat you.

Take heed, imPort: this battle has the spinal cord outlined, but you're free to flesh out any conflicts more to your liking. Once the high noon sun burns onto the ground, you'll be ported back into the City -- along with any (sizable) dinosaur that might hitch a ride.

Comments

A [OPEN]

[heal_or_execute]

For the past few days, Mordin had been theorizing about the complexities and oddities of human sexuality. He often thought about such things, but Capers had given him a particular reason for this focus.

While doing his rounds as a US Marshal, he had been repeatedly and insistently propositioned by a sex worker named Lilith. She was blonde, playful, brightly-dressed, and almost always batting her eyelashes. At least once a night- and sometimes during the day, she would find him. She had sidled up next to him, bought him drinks, found every possible opportunity to touch him.

Mordin had tried explaining that he was working, that he was not interested, that his entire species was asexual. Lilith had only purred that she liked a challenge, then resumed flipping her hair in a motion that humans seemed to consider particularly tantalizing. She reminded him of a character from one of his forays writing in the ‘noir’ genre: a femme fatale.

The Professor had chalked Lilith’s odd interest up to his continued, constant struggle with members of other species developing an inexplicable attraction to him. He only developed an alternate theory once Lilith hailed him in the street, bade him a good morning, and sicced a hungry compsognathus on his face.

Surprised, Mordin had retreated westward, passing a posse of Capers lawmen as he fled with a dinosaur and a laughing metahuman on his heels. His ostensible colleagues had shown no interest in his plight, crowding past him with shackles and nooses, on the hunt for ImPort ‘menaces.’ Alone, Mordin had ducked into a dance hall to make a stand. Climbing onto the stage, he activated his omni-tool and turned to face his pursuers.

The compsognathus leapt after him. Analytic even in combat, Mordin noted that it was green, lizardlike, roughly the size of an Earth turkey, and seemed inordinately interested in his face. He also noted that it didn’t react well to being hit with a Neural Shock from his omni-tool. The dinosaur flopped to the ground, writhing as red current tore through its body. Behind it, Lilith stalked forward across the dance floor, showing no apparent concern for her pet. She swayed her hips as she cooed that it was a shame to ruin such a handsome face.

Mordin didn’t respond. For once, he was in no mood for chatter. Aiming his omni-tool, he got ready to fight.

[C] Narrative - open to rescue!

[guestlectures]

Hiding in an empty stall Alana can hear screams, shouts, the noise of breaking wood, and pistols being fired outside the stable. In her brief flight from the boarding house she had rooms in to the stable she hadn't had have time to take in any details - she can't even think about the bodies of the innkeeper and his wife that she scrambled past in the doorway. Paralyzed with fear, all she can focus on is-

"Come out, come out, wherever your are..."

The thin, buzzing voice seems to come from everywhere at once. The slow footsteps are probably on the other side of the stall wall. Any moment the gentle huff of sleeping dinosaurs is going to be broken with a buzzing laugh and out of every shadow the- the thing will jump out at her, as it had in her room not five minutes ago.

Her pistol is in one shaking hand, the other is over her mouth. Her heart is pounding in her ears and she knows, she knows that she has to move soon before the man-thing gets close enough to vomit at her again.

There's no room for rational thought in the darkness of the town stables. The FBI-affiliate training she received never covered this. The short practice she had with the pistol gives her no confidence that she'll hit anything from more than six feet away. The trembling shaking her gives her no hope that she'll hit anything at all.

Clear as the day they arrived, the memory of Chilton's slighly drunk, rather panicked voice comes to her - What if we die here, what then?

What then?

The sound of splintering wood makes her jump, only the hand over her mouth keeps her from screaming. A dinosaur squeals and the sound is abruptly cut off.

"Don't make me wait, you little whore~" the voice continues, followed by more splintering wood. She needs to move now.

Quietly as she can, Alana peers around the edge of stall. Nothing. She can't hear anything either. No footsteps, no buzzing. She can see a clear path to the street. If she's fast, she can get help-

"There you are!"

The fear that had paralysed her before moves her in time to avoid most of the bile that hits where she'd been hiding. Alana gets to her feet, still unable to see the man-thing. The path to the door is clear so she runs-

Something slams into her side, shrieking with glee. An iron hand grabs her arm and holds her tight. Another hand reaches for her neck. Glassy eyes and a manic, curious grin come into focus. "Now hold still, dear. This is really going to hurt-" The hand around her throat squeezes, tightening as the grin widens.

Alana chokes out a scream, kicking and shoving her hands in his face because she can't die here, she refuses to die here in the darkness of a stable and the hand frantically pushing his face burns hot and she's fallen to the ground. Alana crawls backwards until she finds a wall then turns, gun pointed directly towards her attacker.

The insect-man-thing is swaying unsteadily on his feet. "You bitch-" he manages, voice slurring as he leans on the closest stall for support. "What've you done t'm-"

The bullet in his shoulder topples him. The need to vomit has Alana's hands shaking nearly uncontrollably, but she has both hands on the pistol now, rising to her own unsteady feet. The insect-man swears at her again, the buzzing accent growing stronger and more vehement as it struggles to get upright.

The next bullet knocks his head back, and Alana can't keep track after that as she pulls the trigger over and over until the recognizes the clicking of the empty chamber. The thing doesn't move.

Stumbling as far away from the body as she can, she drops to her knees and throws up, retching until her throat is sore and her breath comes in gasps. Her limbs are trembling beyond her control.

Shock, she thinks. Her first rational thought in minutes. It hasn't even been ten minutes. I'm in shock. I need help. I need medical assistance.

She trips on her way to the stable door, vomits again as she lands on her hands and knees. Her vision is blurring. She knows it's only a few feet to the stable door, and beyond that there'll be someone.

There has to be someone.

[ooc: Alana's been given an illness from her metaman.]

F- Southward Street [OPEN, not really a fight]

[out_of_time]

All Hell was breaking loose, so naturally Jack Bauer was headed right toward the heart of it. He had been headed home from his herd’s grazing area south of town when it began. Even from far off, he could see meteorites raining down on the north, hear the roars of panicking or angry dinosaurs, and smell ashes on the air. Whatever Lachesis had sent them here for, it was happening. Jack expected it to involve Vulcanus one way or another, which was why his long-suffering Deinonychus mount had to bear the weight of several guns and assorted ammunition as well as one very tense cowherd/counterterrorism agent.

Jack kept the dinosaur’s pace slow as he headed further into town, alert for any sign of information. Until he really knew what was happening, he would move cautiously. He pulled up on the reins and brought his animal to a halt as a gaggle of juvenile stegosaurs ran in front of him, raising a cloud of dust in their completely-justified panic to get the hell away from Capers. The herbivores thundered on, little tails wagging behind them, a collection of grey and green and brown. Then the wind blew, the dust parted for a moment, and Jack’s eyes narrowed.

There was a man on the other side of the stampede. A man on a dinosaur. Jack had seen him before, around town. More than once, he had gotten the sense that he was watching him. He was much younger than Jack, lanky, with a large nose, black hair, and glasses that did not belong in this time period. Every time Jack had tried to get closer to him, he had slipped away. Now he was just out in the open, face hidden beneath a black hat, sitting atop a brick-red carnivorous dinosaur a good meter longer than Jack’s own.

Their eyes met, through the dust of the stampede. Jack was gratified to see fear in the other man’s gaze. There was no fear in the other dinosaur, though. The last of the stampede passed by, one last bitty stegosaurus huffing and puffing as it waddled its best to catch up with the others. The other man’s dinosaur opened its mouth wide, saliva dripping from serrated fangs, and snarled as it tensed its legs for a killing lunge.

Jack moved first. His hand dropped to his holster, drew his revolver, cocked and aimed and fired all in one motion. Smoke spurted from the barrel, mixing with the dust of the stampede. Dark red blood flew from an artery in the other dinosaur’s neck. It bellowed and fell over dead with a heavy thump, spilling its rider onto the hard ground.

Jack’s mount edged forward, hissing, sensing meat. He cocked the revolver for another shot and started to aim, but then the Metaman sat up and sang at him:

We're not scaremongering,
This is really happening, happening-

It was terrible singing. More importantly, it was like being hit by a gale. Sonic force hammered Jack straight out of the saddle as his Deinonychus cried out in pain and shock. Jack landed hard on the ground, gritting his teeth, ears ringing. He has superpowers, he thought. He must be with Vulcanus.

Jack scrambled to his feet, gun still in hand. His raptor fled past him, deserting its master and following after the stegosaurs in search of a meal, a place with less superhuman drama, or both. The Meta was still rising, his knees shaking, when Jack pointed the gun at him. It was an easy shot, an easy kill.

Jack hesitated. There was a time when he would have gunned down this terrorist in a moment, but things had a way of changing in the City. He’s terrified of me, he thought. He’s just a kid, he must be in his early twenties. I don’t need to do this.

The other man stared down the barrel of the gun and tried to sing, tried to form words, but all that came out was a frightened stutter. Jack spoke to him. His own words sounded distorted and faint in his ears after the sonic attack, but they came out clearly.

“What’s your name?”

“J-Jackson. John Jackson.” The kid swallowed. His glasses had been knocked crooked in the fall, and he straightened them. “I’m the most powerful Metaman, you know. You should give up now, Bauer.”

Jack smirked. “I’m sure.” He stepped forward. John stepped back.

Terrified and a liar. I can take this one alive.

[ooc: Jack’s going to try to talk Jackson down through sheer intimidation. Any help from other characters would be great!]

F [For Spider-Man, near the Caper Howling Inn]

[magicalworld]

Calvin awakened to the roar of a tyrannosaur and a man standing over his bed. It said a lot about this kid that only one of those things frightened him.

“Mister Birdie?” He sat up, rubbed his eyes. “What’s happening?” His patron was already dressed in his gleaming white suit, even though it was barely dawn. He was not smiling as much as usual.

“Well little buddy, I’m afraid we’re in a bit of trouble. But everything will be okay if you just-“

The tyrannosaur roared again, loud enough for Calvin to feel his bones shiver. He loved that feeling! He jumped out of bed, already fully dressed in his Pioneer outfit- clothes like these were too cool to ever change out of.

“Wow, that was close! Is it coming here? Is there a dinosaur fight? I’ve got to go check!”

”Calvin, wait-“ Mister Birdie was becoming the latest in a long, long line of adult figures in Calvin’s life to learn that this was not a child accustomed to doing as he was told. The boy grabbed his hat, popped on his little cowboy boots, and then dashed out of the room, down the stairs, and out the door.

Outside, Calvin’s pachycephalosaurus (which he had named Moe) was tied up next to Birdie’s mount, an enormous tan chasmosaurus with pointed horns and a fierce frill. Both herbivores were nervous, moaning and tugging at their posts, wanting to get away. They knew that something big and with lots of teeth was getting closer.

Calvin untied Moe and mounted up. He wanted to see the tyrannosaur, but he wanted to be able to run away too! As he climbed up, he felt a hand seize his arm. Mister Birdie’s smile was looking a bit thin all of a sudden.

“Calvin, I’m your friend, not to mention the guy funding your exploration. So you need to listen to me very carefully.” The man met Calvin’s eyes and spoke each word very clearly. ”Nothing bad will happen to you if you do exactly as I say.” He let go of the boy’s arm, and stepped back. “Do you understand?”

Calvin nodded. Ordinarily he never went along with anything involving the words ‘do as I say’, but right now he felt sure, absolutely certain, that the best way in the universe for him to avoid anything bad was by listening to Mister Birdie.

”Great. Hey, I’ve got something for you. A present. You like presents, don’t you?” The man smiled broadly now, showing his teeth as he reached into the pocket of his white coat and held out a handful of candies. They smelled funny.

”Eat these. They’ll keep you safe.”

The T-Rex roared again. Calvin could hear its footsteps now. He wasn’t thinking about the dinosaurs though, or even the funny smell. All he could think of was what Mister Birdie told him. It seemed like the most natural, sensible thing in the world for him to reach out for the candies...

[C] OTA

[topslug]

After a few days in Capers, Yako can safely say she wants nothing to do with the Wild West ever again. Despite her best efforts and above-average endurance (running from accidentally angered dinosaurs is a powerful motivator) running around all over the place has exhausted her, and she's deep asleep when she first feels the brush of fingers at her throat.

Thinking its someone come to wake her up for another job -- and really, what time is it, that they seem so urgent -- she sleepily tries to swat whoever it is away, only for her hand to meet nothing but empty air. Then she wakes up all the way, and realizes a pair of detached hands are trying to strangle her in her sleep. She doesn't waste energy on yelling in terror and letting whoever owns these hands know that his attempt to choke her to death isn't going as unnoticed as they might like.

Instead, she counts to three, takes a deep a breath as she can manage, and rolls herself right off the loft she's in and straight into a bale of hay below. The impact is enough of a shock for the hands to loosen their grip and drop away, apparently, and Yako's quick to take advantage of it, grateful for the first time that she's been forced to sleep above the stables instead of a proper inn bed. Scrambling to her feet and shaking hay off, she ignores the unhappy lowing around her and bolts for the doors.

Outside, she has more light to work with, but there's still enough shadow that an attack could come from anywhere, and she doesn't know what she has to work with. But she can't be the only one around here, can she? The only "weapon" she has is the lasso she didn't take off before she fell asleep, and she blinks hard to try and spot who she's up against, so she can decide if she should hold her position or go.

The thud of a throwing knife into the wood of the post she was huddled behind makes her yelp in alarm, and just like that, she's scrambling for better cover, keeping low to the ground, the sound of disgruntled dinosaurs being woken by the commotion making it hard to hear herself even think.

[ ooc; Fortunately for Yako, she's going to be assisted in taking down her metaman by Jack Bauer. However, this doesn't mean she can't run into other people while she's trying to get away from him, or help others take down theirs! He's capable of remotely controlling his detached limbs, so feel free to have your character note an arm clutching a sharp knife or even a foot making it way by. ]

[out_of_time]

John Jackson is no longer a threat, so now Jack is running around town, shotgun in hands, looking for more threats to engage. It's become clear to him that this isn't just a limited attack on a few ImPorts- an all-out metahuman brawl is enveloping Capers, ImPorts against Vulcanus Metamen, and Jack doesn't intend to back down from the challenge.

There's one hell of a commotion coming from one of the stables, rudely-awakened dinosaurs voicing their displeasure with this superhuman nonsense disrupting their sleep. Jack heads toward the building to investigate, and sees Yako scrambling away. Something is crawling after her, wriggling on the ground like a fat pale snake. Jack has to squint at it for a moment to confirm that yes, that is someone's severed arm, still moving.

"Yako!" He moves toward her, shotgun pointed at the ground. "Are you all right?"

[topslug]

No need for introductions; she'd recognize that voice anywhere. "I'm fine!" It's a relief that she fell asleep fully dressed last night, even if her muscles are aching. She can see his gaze falling to something on the ground after her, and despite her better judgement, she turns her head to follow his gaze. Her face doesn't quite twist in disgust, but she does step away a good deal more quickly, heading for Jack's side.

The severed arm stops crawling, as though realizing it's facing something more than just a young woman in a badly-fitting poncho and boots, going still as if it never started moving in the first place. Once Yako reaches Jack's side, she relaxes a little, shaking her head.

"I don't-- what is that?" She figures it's a rhetorical question, but she can't decide between looking around to try and figure out who or what might be controlling the arm and looking at the arm itself, wary of it moving again.

a & OPEN

[osreborn]

The metaman himself Norman had not anticipated much trouble from. Whether or not it was an accurate assessment was one thing, but Norman was a confident man, one that held few doubts about his own capacity to deal with problems. He'd even been careful, initially, to determine if the tall, odd man who was following him very closely really was following him (or just had little regard of personal space, or both) by ducking into the dance hall, but any ambiguity had been resolved for him quickly. The man was not only waiting for him there in the gallery, but--

Before Norman could react in any way that wasn't turning his head, the man shot at him, though not with bullets. Acidic venom splattered Norman's arms and burned the skin, a sting that merited a hiss from his clenched teeth. He could heal, and he would, and he was so glad for the knowledge that ultimately his biggest threat was a flesh wound.

"All right," he said. "That's enough." The metaman was talking, but Norman wasn't listening. As the skin on his arms sizzled he jumped down from the stage, diving at the man with his fist raised for a punch. The brawls days earlier had reignited Norman's sense of fight, and even through the dim pain he felt smug for the preparation.

Venom to the face; it dripped down, leaving dark tear-like streaks down his cheek. But they would heal. It was only that which caused any difficulty in their brief grapple; though the metaman was taller, Norman was much stronger. His skin felt like it was melting but he grabbed Rattler's face in both hands and snapped his neck in an almost effortless motion.

"That should have been easier," he hissed, skin still stinging, more painfully now. He stood carefully, trying not to touch the wounds, and began to turn when he saw two dinosaurs standing around him -- one behind him, one to his side -- watching him predatorially. "But obviously that isn't happening."

He wasn't keen on the idea of wrestling a dinosaur. Not really. But one of them leapt at him regardless.

( ooc: his metaman is dealt with, but if anyone wants to team up to deal with dinosaurs feel free! )

D, for Jack Bauer

[swordedpast]

This is it. Archer has no intention of letting the thin, twitchy, suspicious-looking jerk who's been trailing him on and off this whole time get the better of him. He's already attempted once to confront him and put a sword or ten through his skinny chest, but the guy slipped away that time. This time, he has no intention of allowing that to happen--but where is the man?

He doesn't realize it until too late: the hunched-over, hooded figure who passes him by, clumsily bumping into him and pushing off of him with a hand to his chest. That's the man he's heard is called Marksman. That's his opponent.

Oh, he would have gone after a suspicious guy like that, of course. But ten seconds later, the meteorites start raining down, and he's pausing, looking around for the source of this new attack, not realizing at first that it is, in fact, the sky.

The bullet punches into his chest over his heart two minutes after that, unerringly finding its way to the place Marksman touched.

Archer staggers and drops to one knee. Blood stains his chest. The combination of his armor and his superhuman endurance keep it from being a fatal shot as his opponent hoped--but he's wounded and bewildered now, and helplessly exposed as chunks of rock whiz by his head.

And on top of the dubious dentist's building, hiding behind its sign, Marksman takes aim at Archer once again, scowling sourly at his continued survival. At least with his opponent temporarily disabled, he won't need to use his power. He can just shoot Archer in the head now without any gimmicks and be done with it.

[osreborn]

It's been some time since Norman finished with his own metaman; by now he's walked off most of his wounds, staggering a little only from the dinosaur encounter that had followed the battle itself. But it was okay, he was okay. His clothes were torn, leg was bleeding -- bite marks, still healing -- and his face was splattered with raw patches of skin where the acid had struck him, but that was the visible extent of it.

He's not going anywhere in particular, looking perhaps for tools with which to help immobilize a small dinosaur further with, when he passes by the stables and overhears, faintly, noise from within. Determining the noises to be human rather than dinosaur, Norman decides to investigate.

"Oh." He recognizes this woman. "Well, you don't look so well."

[symmachy]

This is not how she wanted to spend her afternoon.

Scathach isn't really one to run from a fight, but it isn't hard to figure out that this is a massive attack on all of the imports that have been brought to this world. So she skirts around the edges of the town, staying in the shadows, eyes peeled for sight of anyone who might need help. She feels that she's better equipped to deal with metamen than most other imports.

The stampede is annoying, but once it clears she catches Jack's scent on the wind and immediately darts over to where he is, sure to stay hidden from the man facing him, eventually ducking behind a barrel nearby. He doesn't seem incredibly threatening, but there's no telling.

Her voice is just a whisper whens he speaks, and she hopes Jack can hear her.

"Jack!"

[out_of_time]

Jack meets Yako and steps in front of her, scowling at the arm. "I was hoping you could tell me." He's seen a lot of things since being Ported, many of them bad, but this is something else.

He falls back on caution, bracing the shotgun on his hip and aiming at the arm, keeping it covered. Two barrels full of buckshot will shred the thing if it's made of anything like human flesh. He doesn't cock the firing hammers back though, not yet.

"It attacked you in the stable?" he asks Yako, wondering if the arm can 'see' them or if there's some other intelligence controlling this thing. For all he knows the arm is a solitary life-form, the latest in Vulcanus' long line of warped experiments. Stranger things have happened.

[out_of_time]

Jack hears, but doesn't respond. If Jackson hasn't seen Scathach yet, Jack isn't going to blow her cover. Instead, he keeps his eyes and his aim locked on the Metaman, nodding to acknowledge Scathach as though reacting to something John said.

"You've got no chance against me. I know all about you. You don't even have any real superpowers!" Jackson's voice is nasal and grating. For someone so sure of himself, he's awfully reluctant to truly commit himself to the fight.

Jack snorts. "If you know me, you know what I've done. You know what I'm capable of. Maybe you think you know how many people I've killed, though I doubt it." He extends his arm, levels the gun, aims right between John's eyes and lets him see where the bullet is going to go. "The Skrulls didn't kill me, the plague didn't kill me. You're not going to kill me."

Vulcanus' artificial hero gulps. "I'm stronger than them. I'm stronger than you!" His fists ball impotently at his sides. Jack senses that he's going to work up the courage to attack soon, out of pride if nothing else. "You're just trying to intimidate me!"

Jack sets his jaw. "No, John. I'm trying to save your life."

If John does attack, he'll trust Scathach to intervene. He just hopes the Shadow doesn't kill him. This kid is annoying, but as far as Jack's concerned he doesn't deserve to die unless he really makes it necessary.

Jack is tired of being a killer.

[out_of_time]

It all happens in a few seconds.

Jack Bauer runs around a corner, holding the rifle Archer 'reinforced' for him, sidestepping around blazing rubble. He sees his ally down and bleeding. He sees the enemy standing on a rooftop above him, aiming at his head. An orange glow flickers over everything, casting wild shadows, silhouetting ImPort and Metaman as the sky falls down around them. Jack yells out.

"Archer!"

He brings the rifle up to his shoulder, takes aim with the weapon touched by Archer's power. From this angle, the dentist's sign is no protection. Marksman sees him, hears him, shifts his aim to the new threat.

They fire at the same time. Gunsmoke mixes with the ash already drifting in the air. The Vulcanus champion grunts, staggers, then falls limply forward off the building. He lands in a heap on the dusty street.

Jack lowers the rifle and takes a couple steps toward Archer. Then he looks down at the blue denim shirt he's wearing. It's stained with blood, spreading across his chest, dark and wet. Jack gasps, coughs, clutches the wound. He falls to his knees, still holding his rifle.

f | for sharon

[invoking]

[ After Sharon located Gil, they had stuck together and stayed at the school she was positioned at. While Sharon rests in a different room, Gil sits near a window he's propped open to finally have himself a smoke after a few severely twitchy days of none.

It's quiet. Peaceful. He's not sure he likes it.

He's proven correct not too long after; at the crack of dawn, somewhere in the distance he overhears a gunshot and then the shatter of glass that follows. He rises from the chair immediately, the cigarette long forgotten.

The floorboards of the school creak and tension grips his stomach. He reaches for the gun at his side, but before he can pull it from its holster, the wall opposite of him explodes, glass, wood, and dust clouding his vision. The eruption is enough to shake the entire room and throw his balance off momentarily as he scrambles for his revolver. ]

f is for failure

[auntyquated]

( Sharon braces herself against a wall at impact, eyes darting to the door, feet following not long after (she knows where Gil is, she knows it's running right into something, but it's also the simple way out, and the whispers she's been listening to have to lead to somewhere, eventually). There's dust and broken wood and the broken window to see at a glance as she comes through the door, skirts held up in one hand to keep her ankles free and clear from restrained movement. )

Gilbert!

( Reaffirmation; she sees him, taps her foot against the ground for the brief comfort of Eques flaring around her ankles, kept low in the shadows and now out in the open until they know what they're dealing with.

And frankly, it seems like it might as well be a cannonball, for all that impact had been! Only -- she hadn't heard that kind of shot, more the mundane kind tied to gunfire. )

[invoking]

Sharon!

[ He calls back, finally extracting the revolver from his side. He had barely seen the person who had come barreling through the wall (it had definitely been a person, he had heard grunting and then a cold snicker from a man likely unknown to him). He moves toward Sharon swift and as quiet as he can, sticking to the shadows of the room. ]

Something's going on in the town —

[ Another explosion from inside the room drowns out the rest of his words. This time he's swiped around the edge of his shoulder, the force enough to throw him back into desks and disorient him. ]

[symmachy]

Whether or not she kills him is entirely up to what sort of attack he launches, if he ever does. If he uses lethal force, there's no guarantee that she won't reciprocate. She has no idea what sort of powers he may have, but that doesn't mean she's going to treat him as if he's harmless.

But judging from the indecision in his voice, he just might be.

Scatty closes her eyes so she can listen to John's movements. If he rushes, she won't be able to see him coming, she'll have to hear him. Her hand is at her waist, fingers hovering above the hilt of a knife that her "employers" were kind enough to give her.

[out_of_time]

John raises his hands. "Okay, fine, you win. Look, I give up!" Then he takes a breath.

Jack has dealt with enough liars to know what this is. His finger tightens around the trigger, but again he hesitates. "John, don't-"

The Metaman sings.

Mobiles working
Mobiles chirping
Take the money and run

The sonic blast strikes like a hammer. Jack's feet leave the ground and he flies backward a couple of metres, knocked head over heels, tumbling in the dirt. The revolver flies out of his hands and goes off as it lands, banging a useless round high into the air.

Jack sits up, bruised, aching. Jackson is walking forward, grinning like he won the lottery. "You idiot," Jack growls, then reaches for the tiny derringer in his boot. "Scathach, take him!"

[auntyquated]

( Sharon's own hair is whipped into an unspoken frenzy. Inside is not safe -- town is, unsurprisingly, not safe. Looks like everything's come out as more weathered imPorts had expected -- yet so loudly? )

Outside!

( Arriving at his side, she has no idea of exactly what's targeting the school building.

At least this time it probably wasn't trying to earn students time off from school! )

[incywincyhero]

Spidey's night vision is respectable, especially considering the six-eye handicap he has in relation to his arachnid brethren. But he was a 21st century city boy, by heart and experience, and in the pre-Edison town of Capers he was navigating as much by spider-sense as by sight.

When he glimpsed the dinosaur-- only turkey-sized, but no Thanksgiving dinner-to-be came with teeth like that-- leaping towards a human-shaped figure he reacted by instinct. He bounded forwards and yanked the animal out of the air by its tail, then pinned it to the ground before it could do more than squawk in distress, trapping it there under a web-net. Though it wriggled and snarled, obviously disoriented and annoyed, the net held it securely without harm.

"You all right there, buddy?" he asked. Only then did the starlight fall right that he could see exactly who it was that he'd rescued.

[osreborn]

"Well, it didn't eat me, did--" Norman's curt retort began as he was eying the second dinosaur warily, which continued to simply circle and eye him back rather than attack; when he glanced over he stopped short, seeing which cavalry had arrived.

His eyes narrowed, hands moving to his hips. "Oh, it's you," he said, the impatience not even disguised. At his sides his hands clenched very loosely into fists, guarded. The dinosaur stood still in his peripheral vision, looking from one man to the other. "Don't tell me you've been following me."

For Renee and anyone else who wants in! Set after the thread with Archer

[out_of_time]

Jack Bauer sat beneath a flaming sky, dying slowly.

He had managed to prop his back up against one of the wooden posts supporting the porch of Capers' dubious dentistry. A short distance away lay the crumpled body of a Vulcanus Metaman, the man who had shot him. Jack didn't look at him. He didn't look at the blood soaking through the handkerchief he was pressing against his reddened shirt. He looked at the sky.

Meteorites continued raining down. Their trails raked fiery orange claws across the heavens. Orange embers drifted alongside them, spitting into the air from the crackling blaze that used to be the medical center. The roars of panicking dinosaurs merged with the explosions of impacting space rocks and crumbling buildings into a generalized cacophony.

Once- it seemed like a lifetime ago- Jack had entertained hopes of retiring peacefully from his career and ending his life comfortably, at home, surrounded by his family. He had accepted that would probably never happen long before the bullet smashed into his chest. His had been a violent life, heading for a violent death. The apocalyptic scene around him had no comfort to it, only carnage. Jack knew that it might have been fitting on some level, even deserved, but his heart just didn't care.

He dearly wished he could see his daughter again. Just one last time, before his end.

And this was the end, he knew. The wound was fatal. The pain was deep, sharp, and constant. He could feel his life ebbing out of him, trickling down the front of his chest beneath his shirt, staining the waist of his jeans. Each breath was weaker than the last, and each one came with more coughing. Someone without his willpower and endurance would likely have been dead already, but Jack Bauer always had been hard to kill.

Maybe Lachesis might bring him back, or maybe he would wake up back in his own universe. He didn't know, and he didn't particularly care one way or another. There was nothing left for him back 'home' except disgrace, danger, and the life of a hunted fugitive. His life in the City had become dominated by the seemingly never-ending struggle against Vulcanus and a host of other threats. Threats that Jack had come to admit could be handled without him, by other people. By the unexpectedly dear friends and allies from other universes he had found in that strange place.

Part of him welcomed the chance to lay down his burdens and rest, even if it was forever. He had done his duty. He had uncovered secrets, saved people, eliminated threats. Deep down, he knew Vulcanus and those like them would fail. And after a long and difficult inner struggle, he accepted that they could be defeated without the ruthless sacrifices that had stained so much of his career. At his core, he was ready to let go of it all.

He just hoped that when he closed his eyes for the last time, there would be peace.

[incywincyhero]

Spider-Man had no idea how he'd ended up on the back of a T-Rex.

Intellectually, he knew he must have leaped on at some point after he had the bright idea of trying to lasso a two-story tall rampaging theropod. Experientially, it was all a blur of sensory impressions: the heat, the stench of rotting meat that wafted back with every breath; the incongruous downy feathers, slick even under his static grip; the basso profondo roar which vibrated up through his feet and rang in his ears.

It was, he thought irrelevantly, a bit like he'd have imagined riding a hurricane, if he'd ever considered the idea. But his poetic musings were cut short as the tyrannosaur rounded a corner-- nearly succeeding in throwing him off-- and straight towards a couple of dinosaurs still tied to their hitching posts. More importantly, towards the two figures standing near them, one dressed all in white that glowed even in the dark, and the other a third of his size-- was that a little kid?

Spidey grabbed the lasso, still wrapped around the T-Rex's head, and yanked with all of his strength. "Whoa, boy!" he grunted. Even the proportionate strength of a spider wasn't a match for the brawn of a seven-ton apex predator-- but it was enough to make the tyrannosaur halt its charge and rear back in annoyance. Spider-Man barely kept a grip on the rope as he slipped backwards, but he clenched it in his fist and used it to pull himself closer to the head.

He leaned out to the side, trying to maintain his precarious grip while looking for the two people he'd seen. But the T-Rex's head blocked the view, and he had to settle for shouting blindly into the night.

"Hey, you two! Leave the dinos and get inside, now!"

e | open

[boobwindow]

It's no easy feat to sneak up on her and the moment chaos breaks out in the town she's prepped for a fight, so the agent who's been targeting her, in spite of his excellent care to avoid being seen, is caught onto rather quickly. She punches him in the face and he goes flying through a window and doesn't get back up. Peej snorts; unimpressed, but relieved her fight is done with, she's about to take off to find the others and help them.

Without warning, he reappears.

About a dozen times. Literally.

Oddly enough, they're less strong as a unit, but they are a hindrance and continue their relentless assault. She tosses about five of them over rooftops, only for twenty more to spring from other buildings.

To make matters worse, as she attempts to distance herself from all of them, she finds herself caught in a nest of velociraptors whom are more than excited to see her, and not for reasons one might hope.

The Shadow Swarm charge into the nest and hell breaks loose. She has to kick and punch through dinosaurs and the Shadow clones, but neither side is ready to throw in the towel.

"Who sent you?!" she hauls one of the clones close, but he's sworn to silence. A solid headbutt and he poofs out of existence.