The Major (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
liebe_krieg) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capeandcowllogs2010-04-16 06:32 pm
liebe_krieg) wrote in capeandcowllogs2010-04-16 06:32 pm
Entry tags:
- *in progress,
- mitchell hundred | the great machine,
- sanji | mr. prince,
- † !—dropped characters—! †,
- † agatha heterodyne | the maker,
- † garrus vakarian | the archangel,
- † geddoe | raijin,
- † jaime reyes | blue beetle,
- † lyra silvertongue | lizzie brooks,
- † n/a | the major,
- † nero | not interested--,
- † toph bei fong | blind bandit,
- † trowa barton | n/a,
- † zelgadis | greywords
And I can guide a missile by satellite
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.
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.
Forget if it's kosher for me to join here? If not I'll delete.
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!
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.
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
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
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.
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"God DAMMIT." He backed away, implying the others could get back to it because he knew the figurative big guns weren't gonna work.
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A particularly violent bolt of electricity shoots out of Pete's hand and strikes a vampire in the head. Its head explodes. A few of the officers look frightened and try to edge away.
"Don't look at me: keep shooting!"
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Cole shook his head, as his arms shot back up with electricity. He follows suit and copies Pete with both hands this time.
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That last comment was to one of the uniforms who is looking queasy.
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"My EAR, Pete."
Not like he really cared, he was just trying to give himself something that would keep HIM from getting quesy. The straight face he was trying to keep wasn't exactly staying but nonetheless he was still firing off.
I could make a joke about Nazis and the word kosher...but that would be in profoundly poor taste.
"Cheney, this is Prime. What's your status? And who else have we got in there?"
THERE'S NO POOR TASTE IN BASEBALL
"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!"
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Pete's very matter-of-fact about it. Vampires happen. They run the mobs back home. They're a little easier to subdue, though.
"Only thing that kills these ones is silver, or losin' their heads."
Separating a man from his head takes longer than you'd think.
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The transmission is interrupted by the sound of a rather large artillery blast.
"Maza's got a team going after the fragger's airship. The rest of us need to get the situation on the ground under control. That means securing the station first, then taking the fight out into the rest of the City. If we need silver to make our weapons more effective against these things, then someone needs to figure out how to make that happen."
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The door is already gone. They can clean up any tire tracks later.
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And yet, even as he speaks, the conspicuously bright blue military vehicle is rolling straight up to the front gate.
"...You guys might want to get out of the way."
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