And I can guide a missile by satellite

[liebe_krieg]

WHO: The Major and everyone who signed up to fight in the City.
WHERE: Locations across the City.
WHEN: 11 PM Friday evening.
WARNINGS: So. Much. Violence.
SUMMARY: Operation Gotterdammerung has begun, and with it Case Schwarze: a full air and ground assault against the ImPort community designed to prevent interference with the nuke in Washington. Missiles and vampires ahoy!
FORMAT: Whatever works.
NOTES: Don't forget to add your characters' tags as they join in!

Leaning back in his chair, occasionally taking the time to dictate a response to his post on the communicator, the Major watched happily as his master plan at last unfolded. It was all worth it, he could already tell. The months of planning, the prison takeover, the theft of the bomb, the kidnapping of the Detective, all the promises he’d made to his new comrades, it was all coming together right here in front of him, in the fire and explosions of detonating missiles and attacking vampires. It was the fulfillment of his most cherished dream: a war beyond any man’s history had ever known. Reports from his crew filtered in from all around him:

”Rot Team reports that they are in position Major. Package is secure.”

”Schwarze One reports commencing attack on police station.”

”Missile hit! Confirmed hit on Turing nightclub!”

”Schwarze Five, commencing assault on the Spark Roast.”

”Confirmed missile hits on both prisons!”

He sat and listened and smiled and watched. In less than an hour the device would detonate, and America’s capital would be swallowed up in a mushroom cloud. There would have to be retaliation, retaliation greater than that after Pearl Harbor, retaliation not just at those responsible but also at those who had let it happen because they were too busy looking after their own homes. There would be war, first native against ImPort, but then as things fell apart ImPort against ImPort, native against native, war between teams, countries, movements, alliances! War upon war upon war!

“It has begun,” the Major said to himself, watching the chaos unfold on the array of screens hanging from the ceiling in front of his seat, as well as through the DEM II’s vast observation window. “The dance that cannot end! The symphony I can revel in for all time! The fire that shall never burn out!”

Below, the prelude to that symphony continued.

Comments

POLICE STATION I AM NOT SURE IF THIS IS KOSHER OR NOT SUP GUYS

[pullingyourlegs.livejournal.com]

So how 'bout them racist vampires, police plaza? They should be coming in pretty hard and fast right now, unless you've barricaded the door. But given the small and familiar girl who's following in their wake, barefoot and placid, maybe they're not your biggest concern.

[shockheadedpete.livejournal.com]

The front door? No, that's gone. It's just wood and glass. A barricade wouldn't hold, and wouldn't provide any offense anyway. The main foyer is yours.

The force has fallen back to behind the entrance to the holding cells. A heavy, barred gate separates them from their attackers, as well as riot gear and shields. They shoot from between the bars.

Pete is frying with one hand, and shooting them in the head when they're down with the other. Double fisting.

Forget if it's kosher for me to join here? If not I'll delete.

[imonabike.livejournal.com]

Does it ever feel good to pounding the bad guys again. Cole joins up with Pete, giving him a silent nod while he goes to shooting off lightning with one hand and holding up a floating shielded formed and thanks to his manipulating of electricity.

After a moment of that he claps both hands, apparently forming something in them, before tossing a literal electric grenade out.

"How many of these assholes ARE there?!"

Everyone stop saying Kosher! This is Nazi vampire Sparta!

[shockheadedpete.livejournal.com]

"I ain't countin' heads, Sparky, just tryin' to blow 'em off," Pete grunts. "We can count the bodies after."

Because this is take-no-prisoners time. In some ways that makes it easier: just blast away, like it's a videogame. In other ways... This is not a videogame. Pete tries not to think about it. He also tries not to forget it.

I'M SORRY.

[imonabike.livejournal.com]

Cole, unforunately being from a video game, used to having to kill countless mooks, doesn't seem to have as much of a problem with it.

"Stand back," His hands crackle and spark a little more intensely. "I got something that'll clear the hell outta 'em."

THERE'S NO SORRY IN BASEBALL

[shockheadedpete.livejournal.com]

"You heard him, fall back!" Pete roars.

The un-powered officers are glad to oblige. It's disconcerting when your Captain has a skull for a head.

derp sorry I'm not thinking tonight

[imonabike.livejournal.com]

It was a good thing Cole had gotten used to that skull by now.

He stuck his hands through the bars and positioned his hands like he was doing a kamehameha. Or whatever that was called. Whatever you wanted to call it, a giant ball of lightning shot of his hands--about the size of a basketball twice over, shot out and flew at the zombies. There was a large, instant explosion on contact, and when the smoke cleared...

... yeah, that didn't change anything.

I could make a joke about Nazis and the word kosher...but that would be in profoundly poor taste.

[theprimerprime.livejournal.com]

Those officers defending the station can now breathe at least a momentary sigh of relief, because the cavalry has just arrived. Sentinel Prime has arrived, and he is piloting the tank. As the conspicuously bright blue military vehicle rolls up to the beseiged station, the freak electrical storm at the front gate alerts him to Pete's presence; he grabs his comm and fires off a quick voice message.

"Cheney, this is Prime. What's your status? And who else have we got in there?"

THERE'S NO POOR TASTE IN BASEBALL

[shockheadedpete.livejournal.com]

You know how Pete feels about the word freak. Good thing you didn't say it outloud. Pete's response is awfully static-y.

"We're holdin' 'em back around holding. Me an Sparky an thirty uniforms. We got to the riot gear, but we need silver against these *&$%ers!"

[theprimerprime.livejournal.com]

"Slag it, Pete, you're not making any sense. What does silver have to do with anything? Why can't we just blow them up?"

/jumps in

[matchmyreach.livejournal.com]

Anybody paying attention might be noticing random vampire Nazi heads exploding here and there. Garrus is perched not terribly far away from the police station, plugging away dutifully at the horde and getting used to his newly-discovered power of bitchin' gun skills. Which means his headshots are even more ridiculously accurate than usual. He goes to speak into his suit like usual, then remembers it doesn't work like that here and uses his comm instead.

"This is Vakarian - I'm on a rooftop within sight of police HQ." A pause, another gunshot. "If you need supporting fire, you've got it. Who's in the tank and do I need to start shooting at it?"

[shockheadedpete.livejournal.com]

There's a lot of that going on: the random head exploding, that is.

"Hands off the tank, that's the boss!" Pete practically shrieks.

[matchmyreach.livejournal.com]

"Good. I really have no idea how to shoot down a tank." He just shrugs it off and keeps popping vampires where he sees them, which is actually pretty easy since there are so many of them.

"Any word on the situation in...Washington?" No, he doesn't have his Earth cities quite down yet, so there's hesitation on the last word.

[shockheadedpete.livejournal.com]

"Little busy with the goin's on here, pal," Pete snorts.

That's a no.

SOMEONE SAY KOSHER. AND HEY THERE HOW'S IT HANGING.

[spiritgun]

Well hello there, small girl. Don't you look too calm to be wandering around in the middle of all these vampires. Consider yourself watched, as Yusuke makes himself busy with ripping the heads off all the vampires within arm's reach.

GOOD BRAH GOOD HOW ARE YOUR INTESTINES

[pullingyourlegs.livejournal.com]

She pauses, tips her chin up, and regards the area generally as if searching for something; after a few moments of this, her gaze fixes on Yusuke's face, and the corners of her mouth curl up in a satisfied little smile. She clasps her hands together, then speaks, her voice high and a little curious.

"Is it that easy?"

OH THEY'RE EXCELLENT. JUST CHILLING, HANGING OUT, YOU KNOW.

[spiritgun]

He typically wasn't big on severing heads. It was easier if he ignored everything but the task at hand, focusing on the sharp, twisting motion and the pull, the give as head parted company with the body and he was going to be violently sick later, but for now, he had to focus.

She was tiny. He paused, vampire head still in hand, studying her, before flinging the head over his shoulder and jumping down from the desk to tackle the next vampire.

"Easy as fucking pie." He told her, breaking the thing's neck with a crack and yanking the head free of the body. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, for whatever reason, which was strange, because he hadn't had a feeling like this all damn day. Danger, Yusuke Urameshi, danger.

[pullingyourlegs.livejournal.com]

"That's good!" she says, still smiling. "That's very good. It just wouldn't do, otherwise."

And then, without any further warning, razor-sharp strips of flesh (http://www.onemanga.com/Claymore/81/30-31/) shoot out at the boy. It's lightning-fast, but Riful doesn't move from her spot; she hasn't even unclasped her hands. She's aiming to injure, to gouge, if he can't avoid it, but not to kill; he's too intriguing a possibility to finish just yet.

[spiritgun]

He leaps upwards, but he's not fast enough. One, two, three slashes of pain, two across his leg and one across his right side; not vital hits, but enough to signal that yes, his instincts were right, and yes, he's in trouble. What the hell kind of demon is this?

He fires his spirit gun at her without even thinking about it as he lands back up on the desk, nearly staggering on his hurt leg.

"The fuck are you?" He snarls, and he's already thinking about how much damage she could cause if let loose, about how many people those strips of flesh could kill at once. Letting her out of here isn't an option. He just has to hope he can move faster than her.

[highrolling.livejournal.com]

Nero is late. Why? Because he's been trying to defend the super jail with very minimal success. An hour after the bombing had started, it was a lost cause. Hundreds of inmates and staff had been injured, some killed, and some of the more hardy and dangerous inmates had even escaped. After the ambulances arrived, there was nothing left to be done and Nero had run as fast as his legs would take him back to the Police station.

He had found out pretty fast that these things healed, whatever they were, so he made an effort to make sure he either cut off their heads with his sword or ripped them off with his Devil Bringer.

[pullingyourlegs.livejournal.com]

She's still there! Yusuke may or may not be dead at this point, ~*~we don't know~*~, but she's still standing by, actively fighting now. She's not in her Awakened form at the moment, but one of her arms is completely gone, replaced with a series of long, lethally sharp tendrils of flesh that's already twice as long as she is tall. She is, of course, killing humans; she promised that much to the man, even if he didn't seem to understand her motivations. The nerve of these people! Assuming that flesh and warm blood were all that interested--

One of the vampires, apparently stupid or adrenaline-high enough to forget who she is, grabs the other arm and makes a lunge for her neck, and Riful lashes out immediately in disgust--they're such vile little things, just like... no, she's not thinking about those creatures at a time like this. Her hair slices through his throat so fast that he doesn't even have the time to gurgle in fright. So much the better, really! She doesn't have time for that kind of pathetic display.

[highrolling.livejournal.com]

Alas, poor Yusuke! We knew him well. Nero takes his eyes off the vampires for a moment, only to spot something else. What the fuck is that. His Devil Bringer isn't glowing in reaction to it, so it's not a demon. But hell, it looks like one. Look at those tentacles. Said tentacles were also eviscerating officers left and right.

Nero sneered and called out, "HEY! Tentacle girl! Why don't you pick on someone your own size, huh?" Nero took a stance, sword at the ready. Though those tentacles lent themselves to a more... effective method. He tensed the tendons in his demon arm in anticipation. "Bring it!"

[pullingyourlegs.livejournal.com]

"What a silly thing to say," she said, narrowing her eyes and tapping her still-human finger to her lips as she focused on observing what unique power she could glean from the overbearing sea of vampire energy. So, so very boring. "You're taller than me, you know." But not stronger, so far as she could tell, which was good! After all, the best kind of person was one who was strong, but not stronger than her. And it wouldn't do at all to be outmatched in a situation as boring as this--from somebody being so rude, too. The nerve of these people! Still, though, he might be worth her time.

"But I don't think it's quite fair," she added, her voice still deceptively thoughtful, "to just demand things of a stranger without considering their needs first. If you wish to fight me, then you should make the first move, after all. It's only polite."

[highrolling.livejournal.com]

How annoying. A monster in the guise of a little girl. Those were always the worst kind. But he'd seen enough of these sorts that her appearance wouldn't stop him from pulling his punches.

"Fine, I'll make the first move." He lazily pulled his gun from its holster and shot off a round of bullets in her direction. Did they hit? Maybe. He didn't really care. It was more of a smartass move. "There, moved. Your turn, biyotch."

/Slides Safeguard in. LATE BECAUSE NET HATED ME UNTIL NOW. ;___;

[spacetimeguard.livejournal.com]

As soon as the fighting had broken out, Safeguard was on his way to help defend the police station - presumably on orders of he was this alert and no longer the semi-dorky kid, but a solider. His mind was going tunnel vision on the fighting, and it was, to him, a good work out. And it was something to do, hacking at vampires. It didn't really matter to him what was happening around him, only that friend was anything that was attacking the Vampires, and the Vampires where enemy.

{{ DX I fail as my net failed to connect for over 24 hours. :(}}