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.
[ooc: this bendy timed to before M'stra and Sil depart for DC by shadow-travel]
Why not visit an old friend?
She hadn't been at the Autobase doors since she'd left behind that dying little dog as a gift for Cheetor. How fitting that today her inadvertent tipster and his devoted pet were all that she could sense inside.
She just knocks on the door, in human guise for now because why not? Surprise was fun.
no subject
"Are you okay, ma'am?"
no subject
"She's about three feet tall, red hair, green eyes. You haven't seen her have you?"
no subject
The Maximal was now at a crossroads. He knew what his job was: stay and protect the base. He was duty-bound to honor this job, even if he didn't like it. That was his job as second in command. However, he didn't like this job, and now a woman with a missing child was on his doorstep. For the first time in a while, Cheetor had a moment of retrospect that told him how insufferable he'd been as a kid. And he was pretty close to following those insufferable instincts anyway.
And then, the dog started barking. Not just barking; the dog started howling, baying in such a way that made the hair on the back of Cheetor's neck stand up.
no subject
"Oh well well, I see YOU remember me. Smarter than this dunderhead, aren't you girl?"
no subject
Uh oh.
"You," he snarled, putting his guard up.
no subject
She drops the illusion of her human form, who needs it in a fight anyway, shifting and reforming into her base-formation - the peaked armour ridges, bony limbs and gnashing teeth of her natural white martian shape. How she speaks clear english around those fangs is a mystery of remarkable skill.
"Nice place."
And then one big clawed hand is snatching him by the neck, picking him up off his feet and throwing him clear across the room, right into that really nice TV against the wall.
no subject
Getting to his feet and ignoring the shards of glass sticking out of him, he bared his teeth. "You want to dance? Come on, ugly!"
no subject
"With pleasure!"
no subject
Oh, he wished he had his sabers with him; he'd make mince meat of her with those. As it stood, he had one other option at his disposal. Moving at speeds otherwise banned in the base, he got to the counter and grabbed a knife from the block it was in. It was horrible for combat, but with no other options, he grabbed the handle and tried to envision how he'd adapt his combat style, still moving cautiously.