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.
no subject
Grabbing onto the handle of the door, the floor under his left foot collapsed, and dropped the shotel, causing it to shatter as it fell onto the floor below. A second of hesitation and he let himself drop down, wincing painfully as he landed, but getting up as quickly as possible, calling his weapon back from the floor, fixing it in the process.
Someone had to have survived. Anyone, please.
/slams back into this post god
A crowd of vampires went down a short ways away, and he managed to snare a glimpse of the little blond guy with the sword making slow but highly efficient work of freeing the creatures' heads from the restricting confines of their necks. It was impressive, considering how distasteful the act seemed to be to the stranger.
He had no such need to tiptoe around the destruction of his enemies, himself, but one never looked a gift fighter in the barrel of their gun. Or the... pommel stone of their blade... whatever. The whole damn thing was a badly mangled metaphor originating from horses and mouths anyway.
One of the leeches grabbed him round the waist; within a second he was back to his human shape and hunkered down on the ground while his assailant stood in confusion with wide, empty arms--another passed, and Trowa had changed again and rushed him, throwing the weight of the prehistoric monster into his legs. Another nearby screamed in terror at the sight of something that hadn't walked the earth in ages, but only for a moment.
meanwhile elle overuses the word "hollered"...
...Maybe. There was more on the astral plane than just mortal excesses, after all. These things acted more mazoku than man for Zelgadis' taste. No matter, they hissed and skin sizzled under the hexed blade well enough. After near a dozen of those, though...it was getting a bit troublesome. For once, he wished there was a Dragon Slave being cast nearby to...
...level everything in sight. Right. No, not a good idea. The building nearby was already unstable. If he was going to clean this up a bit faster, he needed those things away from the walls.
"Kid!" he hollered, swatting a vampire with the back of his blade to clear his view. Catching sight of the blonde, he raised his voice and waved an arm, gesturing. "Get them clumped together if you can! Away from the building!"
The beastman rushed elsewhere in Zel's peripherals. "You, too!" he called, doubting any sort of cooperation from there. Never hurt to try, did it? In the meantime, he had a bit of shepherding to do, himself.
Hollered is a fine word.
He then dove into the swirling masses, deftly avoiding their pounces and slipping between them. The vampires would have about as much luck catching him as a group of rednecks would in catching a greased pig. Emerging on the other side, Link used his grappling hook to pull himself on top of a street light, where he balanced precariously and waved his arms.
"HEYYYYY! Over here! Come and get me!!" Then in a childish feat unlike any ever seen before, Link stuck out his tongue. Then, he did something he saw a monkey do once; turned around and smacked his butt. He wasn't sure if it would work, but the vampires didn't seem to like it either way and they began to change direction.
/slams back into this himself
The lights in the hallway flickered eerily as he slammed the palm of his hand against the reader outside of the sub-basement, struggling to keep his balance as something moved just out of the corner of his eye. A shadow shifted and the vampire lunged as the door opened upon recognizing his hand print. He stumbled hard into the wall just beyond it, nearly losing his footing on the steps into the dark.
The shotels fell, hitting stairs before disappearing below and he slammed his shoulder into the creatures stomach and chest, knocking it back out onto the carpeted hall of the first floor. The door slid shut behind it, leaving him safe, but standing motionless and panting in the dark. The Major hadn't attacked Winner Corporation for no reason and Quatre needed to be certain now that he knew the surviving employees had at least made it outside to safety.