tramitem_log | (no subject)

More Like Geonnoying, amirite

Jecht planted his back against a rock, sank slowly to the ground, and tried to breathe.

Maybe the others were more used to this, maybe they'd been through crap like this before? The way people were babbling through that special secret only-us-weirdos-allowed though, he wasn't betting on it. Hell, he was using everything he had not to freak out, and if he hadn't spent his life in the public eye...

"Ugh, this sucks!" he said, louder than was wise. His voice rang off a couple of the stone pillars, and a short ways away, a pair of battle droids turned first their heads, then their bodies, in his direction...

We Will We Will Rock You

After holding, weighing, and judging a few different options, Jecht finally picked up the rock he felt most comfortable with. Unsurprisingly, it looked vaguely like a football. Not that he had any delusions about it being that easy to throw... but all he had to do was get it a short distance indeed.

"Two of 'em," Jecht muttered, ducking behind a stone column again to keep himself hidden from the battle droids he'd decided to target. What he really needed was assistance -- someone to help, however briefly, so he could take out both...

Trouble right here in New York City

Emberto was alerted to the change by the lights in his office going out. And by the sudden ceasing of the sounds of conversation in the hallway outside it. A moment of it might not have been so suspicious, but the longer it dragged on, the greater the sense of unease he felt.

He headed down the hallway toward the theater lobby, calling for the members of he troupe that he knew should be in the building, but received no answer. And then he stepped out into the lobby and stopped in his tracks. Because when he looked through the glass of the front double doors, the charming coffee shop across the street was gone, and in its place, an alien landscape full of what looked like giant mushrooms. "Dios mio...", he whispered.

And marching through the giant mushrooms were a small group of gangly looking robots. Their appearance might almost have been comical, had it not been for the unmistakable guns they carried. Clearly, wherever they had come from, they weren't just there to take in a show. And if they were so close by it likely meant that he wouldn't be safe there for very long.

After another quick check of his theater, just to be certain none of his troupe had come with him, he hurried upstairs to his apartment and grabbed the knapsack he usually used when going to the other world. Some things were packed in it already. Others he threw in just in case. Bottles of water. First aid kit. Granola bars. Two changes of clothes. And a few other odds and ends he thought he might need.

After contacting the Bureau, to alert them to the situation and somewhat reluctantly ask for assistance to safety, he slipped his phone into his pocket and its charger into his pack; the theater seemed to have lost power, but he was willing to bet that the Bureau had backups. And after a moment's hesitation, he grabbed his sword as well. He doubted the simple blade would help against robots, but somehow, he felt more confident with it in his hand.

Then, after locking his apartment and doing a quick check out the front door of the theater to make sure there were no robots immediately visible, Emberto took a deep breath, quickly crossed himself, then stepped outside. The place he was meeting the bureau's agents wasn't far, but it seemed a great deal farther with the threat of those robot soldiers running around.

You’re safe, no one will find you, your fears are far behind you.

The place the Bureau had taken him and some others to was quite cozy. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that he was back in his old college dorm room, and not hiding out from murderous robots.

But that was the keyword wasn't it? Hiding. Somehow, it galled him. What would his past self think of him now, sitting there safe and comfortable while others did the fighting?

And yet, what else could he do? He knew a bit of basic self defense, and thanks to practice with Elliott, was coming along in his sword skills. None of which would help him take down those robots. ...So why did he still want to try?

Wildcard

Choose your own droid-related adventure.

Edited 2020-09-26 00:29 (UTC)

Communication Error

Yotsuyu was about to pitch her phone across her room--she'd intended to call Gino Galvus about some tidbit of information she'd gathered, but there was absolutely no reception, all of a sudden. Just what in the seven hells was even going on?

She peeked out the window--and instead of the other buildings huddled across the street was a wide expanse of--sand. And it looked hot. What in the seven hells, indeed...

Yotsuyu changed quickly--work attire was not suitable for beach or desert, whichever this was--and soon was out the door, attempting to do a bit of reconnaissance.

What she found jarred her other self's memories a bit--and also had her realizing that this was not good. The machinery--the magitek, what Yotsuyu remembered of it, was a bit more advanced than this, but even she knew the power of sheer numbers...

Good eye, sniper

Yotsuyu knew she wouldn't be able to keep this up. For all the fact that she'd had her pistol in her purse, she lacked the most important thing: Ammunition.

Then again, she hadn't thought that she'd leave the house to stumble into a desert that hadn't been there yesterday! If she got back there, she'd have to be sure to pack more--but with the condition of the current world, even that was a finite resource. Yotsuyu was not sure she wanted to break into a gun shop to get more, even if the proprietor did seem to be absent...

Though perhaps the idea was, then, to turn the droids' own weapons against them? The thought had merit. Now--to avail herself of them!

Wildcard
(got an idea? this is your prompt!)

1. Test

It was a stupid idea. Probably even worse than joining the Bureau, if he was honest. B u t... If it worked, then he had a weapon- weapons. It should work. There wasn't really any reason it wouldn't. Just whether or not it would be effective.

"It'd be cool if they were like pokemon, huh?" Elliott laughed quietly behind the building debris he'd taken refuge behind.

If it didn't work... Well, then he'll have pissed off a group of metal monsters and have to run away really fast.

His mark lit up. Elliott took a deep breath and peeked over his cover. Energy- magic?- surged through his arm. He stood and threw his arm out. Electricity discharged from his fingertips in a narrow bolt that struck the nearest droid. Lightning crawled over the center of its body and sparked over its joints. The droid collapsed.

"Ah," Elliott said, largely disappointed despite the small victory. That bit of magic hadn't been nearly so impressive as the one from his memories. And now he had slightly less than a half dozen other droids turned in his direction.

Heart leaping in his throat, Elliott ducked back down and ran.

"Uh, hey!" he said as he spotted another living soul as he weaved between buildings in an effort to lose them, "Don't go that way!"

2. Training

Well, now he knew one of his abilities worked anyway, but not keen on repeating his flight through the city, Elliott had decided that he should probably test all of his abilities in a slightly safer setting before trying again. There were plenty of empty buildings to choose from, now. Most of them were in some level of disrepair, but that worked perfectly well for his purposes, because at least one thing was going to be on fire.

Minutes later, many bits of decrepit office chairs were on fire. Elliott dove for the fire extinguisher, but the smoke alarm got there first.

"Really?" he moaned beneath the shrill shrieking while foam began to quell the flames. "The fire alarms work, but not the security alarm?"

3. Alien Flora

"Wow," Elliott gasped amid a stretch of alien plant-life. It was hot all of a sudden, the air sticky, but his wonder outweighed discomfort. He was drawn deeper despite the strange terrain, hopelessly fascinated. "This place is amazing."

Elliott whipped around, peering about for enemies, then drew his phone and snapped a few quick pictures.

"I wish I knew anything about collecting samples.."

4. Battle! tw; minor injury

Since the initial attack, Elliott hadn't gone anywhere without his sword. But he'd stayed largely at range, calling up transparent barriers edged in a slight glow with a prayer to ward off enemy fire and tending to the injured.

He'd only popped out to briefly cast a trail of fire across the ground to help hold the line, but it was enough that a stray laser clipped his shoulder.

Elliott dropped back behind cover with a short-lived yelp, green-tinged fingers immediately going to his injury to heal it.

"Ow. There sure is.. a lot of them, still. There probably really is a command center around here somewhere."

Edited 2020-09-26 00:13 (UTC)

Lisa was not well known for caution most times, especially not when she had someone to cover for her... or someone she needed to cover. But also, the flowers had been pretty this morning and she wanted to see them again. So going with Elliott had seemed like a fair enough compromise.

Unfortunately, it's humid as hell, and so even having switched to a T-shirt, jean shorts she thought she'd retired for the season six weeks ago, and a ponytail, she felt like she was melting. Still, can't just stay at home. Not when something's going on. She'd silenced her phone, packed for exploration of unknown lands, and gone back into danger. But hey, she could appreciate the flora again. "Isn't it? None of this stuff looks familiar." She snapped a few pictures of her own, before stashing her phone. "Hey, you could probably just take a cutting. As long as you don't touch it, it's probably fine, right?" Why there was a set of kitchen shears and a Ziploc in her purse all of a sudden was an open question, but perhaps it'd have benefit.

Party at the Bureau

Wei Wuxian wanted no part of whatever the hell was going on outside. So he made a beeline for the Bureau with some necessities and didn't plan to emerge until this place figured itself out.

Plopping down on one of the dorm style beds he looks around at the other refuges. "Anyone up for a party? We can have a cookout and play some games and most of all..get drunk and forget what is going on out there."

Because when Wei Wuxian says he brought necessities...it mean he brought every thing he could need for a party. He holds up a bag that included some hot dogs, chips, salsa, and various snacks and things he figured would go bad just sitting around the apartment and another bag that was just full of the strongest alcohol he had in his apartment. Which considering he works in a club with a bar..is some high quality stuff.

He may never have gone to college, but he does know how to party like a college kid.

York was going for a walk, of all things, when it all happened. It was kind of early, but that didn't mean he could explain away what he was seeing around him. A blazing desert, and a line of advancing marching... were those robots?

He spots Yotsuyu coming out of the building just then.

"What's going on?" he says. "Are you okay?"

"York! I'm fine, but clearly certain things are not," she said, gesturing at the oppressive desert and, further beyond, the line of droids.

"I tried to call my employer as well and nothing, so I've no real idea of what happened, but I'll take the chance and pray he's safe." Even if he was hard-headed and entirely too self-interested.

"What brings you out here, though?" Yotsuyu knew enough to realize he wasn't the type to run heedlessly into danger, so she hoped it was mere coincidence...

"I was just out for a walk..."

He turns to look at the robots.

"Uh...they're getting closer."

Right now the thought of his memories from that other life remind him what it's like to have biomechanical body armor for this kind of situation. He'd sure like to be in that armor right now.

The distinctive crack of a gunshot rang out as one of the droids reeled back, a bit of electricity arcing along its suddenly-ventilated head. If Jecht had wanted a distraction, this certainly might seem a godsend.

A smaller form ducked behind his column, crouching next to him. "I'll need one of their rifles if I'm to be any help beyond this, that was my last bullet," Yotsuyu explained, though her eyes were bright and there was a tight smile on her face. "I was saving it for something like this."

But it had served its purpose, that bullet.

She has no such memories; Yotsuyu's aren't lines of droids, but lines of soldiers. There's a hint from the machinery there, though--it will help if she ever gets a hold of a droid's rifle or one of those flying platforms that has buzzed around distantly...

"I've but a pistol. Is there anything nearby you might use? Trash can lid? Tree branch as a club?" Sadly, she really wasn't joking at the moment--and she'd be damned if she gave up her pistol to anyone else!

"At least you have the pistol!"

York doesn't have any weapons, though she's right that he probably better pick something he can use defensively, and fast.

There's a signboard in front of the neighboring coffee shop. That'll work. He picks it up and holds it by the feet. This way he can ram into the robots with them, he figures, and knock them down. If they get that close.

"A lady needs to be able to defend herself! And it's not like pepper spray would work on these!" Though Yotsuyu would likely be happier if it did. In the long run, pepper spray was less expensive than bullet clips.

She almost regretted not bringing more, either.

"I do suggest we try not to get them noticing us, but if they do..." Well, at least they were armed, now. "Though if we could corner a small group and get their weapons...that idea has some merit."

Yotsuyu doesn't care about armor for herself, but. "Maybe we ought to see if their armor would cover you--though if it's poor quality, that's no good..."

Since this whole thing has been going on, York has been finding himself relishing fighting the droids and using their own weapons against them. However, even when doing something is fun, one will tire of it after a while. So York makes his way to the Bureau a couple days after it begins. He's ushered in and sent to the quarters where others among the Different have been holing up without him.

When he enters, of course he makes a beeline for where Xian lies reclining on the bed. He's so glad to see Xian's okay, but he doesn't express his relief as such. He just says, "Got the party started without me, I see."

York nods and looks around.

"I wonder if we go in the shop what'll happen."

Maybe they won't be noticed. Or maybe the shop window will be shot out in front of them.

Well. Nothing to do but try.

"Maybe if we go to the side entrance in the alley from inside, and wait for some of them to march down to it?"

"That might work. Especially if we make a bit of noise, and a smaller group breaks off to investigate. Though I may be giving them too much credit." Her soldiers had been smallfolk under the armor, after all, not robots.

"It is worth a shot. I'll cover you." Yotsuyu gestured him before her, trotting along after--he might be able to swing his sign and do well, but depending on its composition, it wouldn't hold up to serious brutality.

"Can you do a convincing cat, if there's not a local stray surveying its domain?" After all, if the humans were gone, there was no reason for Yotsuyu to believe that anything living had been swept...

"I meant from inside the shop, but—"

He checks the door. Yup, it's locked.

"Okay, here we go."

He enters the alley and finds a dumpster for them to hide behind. He gestures for her to go behind it ahead of him the next time she looks at him.

"I can definitely do a cat. Or a dog."

The line of soldiers was advancing ever closer to the building. The sound of their marching feet was dominating everything now. Every now and then he could hear a robotic voice giving orders and others responding, always with a 'roger roger.'

"This is about to be it, I think," he said grimly.

"Cat might be better. More likely to be in a dumpster--it's a place to hide, for them. I see no reason why I should not be able to shoot the robots..." But Yotsuyu also felt it would be more reasonable to be quiet. She was short enough to be hidden if she crouched behind the dumpster; it could give her blessed cover.

"I've not much in the way of first aid materials if you get hurt, so do try not to? Though my house is close..." A few blocks away, by now, but close enough, Yotsuyu thought. Still, she'd be doing her best so that neither of them took any wounds! She just gave a grave nod at his grim words. She was ready--or at least as ready as she could be.

"Yeah...we're neighbors, actually." Maybe Elliott had never made that clear.

In any case, it was time. York yowled like a cat, dipping his head low behind the dumpster so it really seemed to be coming from the right place.

The droids didn't react. Maybe they were too far away, or he was too quiet? He tried again, a bit louder.

This time it worked. Two of the soldiers looked at each other, nodded, and then a small company of five entered the alley to investigate.

No, Elliott hadn't, and she hadn't realized either. Had she realized, well. She'd have invited York over for dinner a time or two. Before now, at least.

Yotsuyu didn't want to kneel--mostly because of the state of the alleyway--but she crouched as low as she could and leaned against the dumpster to give herself the straightest shot she could. She was aiming up.

"Wait for it--I won't have to reload immediately, but if they do not all go down..." It was clear he might have to clean up any remaining mess.

Nor did Yotsuyu have a silenced pistol, so the cracks of pistol shot were rather evident. Still, were any of the droids downed, she'd run out to grab one of their laser weapons. Waste not, want not!

"Probably," Elliott said with some caution. The plants could very well be as dangerous as they were beautiful, but he wasn't stupid enough to be the first one to try touching them. ...But if it happened by accident, then he'd at least know one way or another.

"I wonder if they'd only grow in this sort of climate, or if they'd be invasive if we tried to transplant one on Earth..."

He blinked as Lisa rifled through and pulled out appropriate tools. "Um... do you usually carry those around...?"

“I don’t know! But I want to,” Lisa replied, chipper but a little quiet just in case, as she took a brief look around. “It’d be cool if stuff like this grew at home, yeah?”

She grinned at the (otherwise perfectly fair) question. “Nope! I came through some of this earlier and already had the ‘I want a sample of this!’ thought separately.” An oven mitt, cotton and thick enough to be slightly unwieldy, came out next; she must have taken things out to fit these tools. “So, I thought, why not bring stuff in case I came back?”

Wei Wuxian nearly drops the drink in his hand when he hears York's voice. He looks up at the other and he has never been very good at hiding his emotions so relief is evident in his expression as he sets his drink down.

Standing up, he doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around the other man and pull him into a hug, "What the hell you jerk...you've had me worried. I thought one of those robots ate you or something." Can robots eat? He doesn't care. Knowing York is safe is like a huge weight lifted.

Seeing the other refugees taking refuge in the bureau is a relief. Some others are still out there, having a good time fighting the robots.

He's in front of a fancy laptop, writing up lessons. He's dressed up in a fancy suit for work as a college professor when the dimensional shift happened when he needs to go to work...and he ends up here. "I don't drink."

But he looks up, "A cookout you say? Is it time to eat?"

Wei Wuxian tries to keep his expression steady as the other man speaks to him. He's never been one to hide what he is thinking or feeling so stuffing down the feelings of fear and uncertainty that this man seems to keep causing to rise in him is a struggle.

But he holds up the bag of hot dogs, "There doesn't have to be a specific time to eat. You eat when you want to eat. And since we are stuck in here, might as well treat it like a never ending party. And when at a party the food is always available."

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3;

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buddy you're a young man, hard man

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Arrival 9/25

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