Breach [Event]

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Breach [Event]

Post by illirica » Fri Jun 14, 2019 11:57 am

Strings Watched her, without turning. He heard her, without having anything to say in reply. Not at first. She was so convinced, at the moment, so full of him that she wasn't thinking of anyone or anything else she'd ever bonded to. At the moment, not even the Tyke mattered. It was just the two of them, in the room. Strings didn't pay attention to that yet. He had another problem. A much, much more interesting problem, one that he turned towards, walked towards, and stood over, curious.

"Good anomalies don't breach." His Eyes lit up, however. Lit up with an old, chaotic fire that he hadn't felt since before the Decimation. Lit up from behind with a researcher's curiosity and a chaos-bringer's hunger. For voids, they were strangely animated. "But good anomalies belong at L-six. Or L-eight. Good anomalies don't belong here. This is a place for irregularities. For untidiness. If you want to be a good anomaly, I'm sendin' ya home ta Data. And if ya want to stay here..."

He loomed now, smirk no longer a ghost. He knew what he was doing, now. He was confident in what he was saying. He'd assessed the situation, caught its different endings, and picked the one that best suited his needs. He leaned forward, over the reality-anchor, and breathed one word laden with both Eldritch power and a bond that superceded reality itself.



It was a command, a request, but beyond that, it was a statement of fact. Of course there was a breach. Her councilman said there was, how could there not be? He knew what was happening at his location, and if he said that ACF-833 was breaking containment…

She was.

L-9 had always been distinct - it floated in dimensional non-location until something anchored it, but anchoring things had always been 833’s primary ability, and so the location became, or simply had always been. It was where she belonged.

And where she belonged, as they both knew, was in Alaska.

It had been L-6, once, before the Decimation that had uncovered it, broken its secrecy and left it insecure. L-6 had been moved, since then, but in the spatial sense, where it had been was where 833 belonged, and so when L-9 was anchored into reality, it was anchored in the precise place that had once been occupied by L-6.

The transition was not smooth - transitions often weren’t, with 833, and at this moment she was less stable than usual. L-9 existed, but with a shockwave that rippled out beneath the ground, where the location was buried. She stood in the containment chamber in the precise location where he’d given her a cube; forced her into obedience, submission.

“The location is open.”

It was. Containment chamber doors were open - not opening - there was no transition there from one state to another. They simple were, and the anomalies within suddenly uncontained or improperly contained. Uncontrolled. Untidy.

Nor was it only the doors. The location itself was open, open to the elements above, and the chill Alaska sun peered blood-red across the snowfield of the horizon for a moment, then crept upward enough to turn everything into white gold. The room was open to the elements, and the sudden cold suffused the open location, the scent of snow a heavy tint upon the wind.

833 watched her councilman, unflinching. It wasn’t enough, of course. Dimensional anchoring, messy though it was, wasn’t enough for him. He wanted a breach, and he had one.

“Five Seventy One.”

A number: ACF-571, called Frostbite. A single inert strain existed, but this was not it. This was the virulent version, and she invited it into the location, unbound, unconstrained. It tore through the staff, first as a feeling of the chills, something easy to ignore given the situation, easy to attribute to something else. Chills turned to cough as the body started to freeze from within, and the bloody, wracking cough it created was a herald and a precedent of oncoming brutal death.

She wasn’t very good, with people.

“One thirty nine. Stay there. Activate.”

ACF-139, a humanoid robot, usually housed at L-6. When inert, it was quite pleasant to speak with. When activated, it tried to kill anything within reach. She bound it to a location, near enough to her to intercept anyone who might try to stop her, just far enough that it couldn’t kill her as well.

“Nine zero eight, A.”

Not ACF-908, the Foundation’s hypersane psychiatrist, but rather the murderous entity that existed in the recesses of his mind - called Ace sometimes, 908 had once bound him to 833, and she twisted the binding to bring the entity to her. Ace needed no instruction, only the freedom to kill anything he encountered.

“Two forty three.”

ACF-243, more an icon than anything else - a symbol. It carved itself into the snowfield in fractal repetitions, drawing the eye - and any who looked at it were compelled to stare further. The longer they looked, the more they forgot - of why they were there, or of who they were, until nothing remained in the mind but the pattern itself, and they stared at it blankly, doing nothing else, until their bodies died of hunger, dehydration, exposure.

“Six twelve.”

ACF-612, called Ice Storm. She’d synergized with it somewhat at L-6, a storm of razor sharp ice shards that struck to kill anything within their encompassed area. Not 833, though - she understood it, she cared for it. They had come to terms, and it wouldn’t hurt her.

The sudden wind whipped through her clothing, snapping the buttons on her shirt, leaving the blood-filled hole in her chest open to the elements. The wind stirred the blood inside, or perhaps it was only the motion of her breathing. The crimson-irised eye floating within surfaced, keeping Watch through the storm through the dimensions.

“A Story.”

???-????. No anomaly, it had no number. It was nothing other than “Tyke’s Bedtime Story” - a copied Necronomicon, used by SV-5 to grant himself an extra eye, to break the world, to open the eldritch dimension. 833 held it calmly in her hand. The book was closed.

It was self-evident that things would be much worse, if she were to open it.

Destruction raged around her, uncontained, untidy, exactly as Hal Franklin Note had commanded it be, and she looked at him, insecure, for approval.

This will be an open event, please let Containment respond first.
I strongly recommend reading the “Now What” thread as a quick lead-in to this.
Timeline: 3.5 to 4 weeks after Para Bellum.
Breached Anchor is basically going to be bullshit tier. Sell the anomalies, sell the memetics.
Usual rules apply, you guys know how to reach me with questions.

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Re: Breach [Event]

Post by Containment » Fri Jun 14, 2019 6:51 pm

We'll never get free, lamb to the slaughter
What you gon' do when there's blood in the water?
The price of your greed is your son and your daughter,
What you gon' do when there's blood in the water?

Look me in my eyes, tell me everything's not fine,
Oh the people ain't happy, and the river has run dry

Councilman SV-5 "Strings" had never, in his long career, been more proud of an anomaly.

It was beautiful, when she erupted. A jolt of anchorage, and then an eruption of controlled chaos the likes of which he had only seen in the nightmares of the Eldritch dimension. The Songless Musician's mind absorbed the dull thrum of a rhythm around him, a melody of screams, a heavy beat of systematic death and destruction.

When he turned back to his asset, his Eyes were shining, and his smile had widened. The Councilman graced the anomaly with a nod of approval.

He did not tell her to stop.

You thought you could go free, but the system is done for
If you listen real closely there's a knock at your front door

The Containment Project had, for all intents and purposes, been a small business intended as an explanation for the bigger Foundation-related problems in the world, to satisfy people like the Society of Superheroes to the point where they wouldn't ask questions. With the scene in front of him, Bailey Richards highly doubted that excuse was going to work this time.

The four managerial members of the Project currently stood at the edge of what might as well have been a chasm of death. Ice shards fell from the sky not six feet in front of them, at the edge of a hole that took up the entire field where L-6 had once been. The location had been free of Foundation occupation for the last month or so, since L-6 had been moved farther south for security purposes. Based on the briefing, the building at their feet was about three times bigger, and much, much more dangerous.

"Okay, back up." Isaac Cotta, A-Class-C, head of the Project's New York City branch. He was wearing standard ACF armoring, not his customized Behemoth suit. Even behind the tinted face shield, however, he sounded confused. "Repeat that again. How the hell did L-9 even land on this plane of existence?"

Bay took a deep breath. "A day and a half ago, Councilman Strings returned to the Foundation, unconscious, following what appeared to be an Eldritch-related ritual. He was accompanied by an unidentified child, and ACF-833. An hour ago, under unknown circumstances -"

"Laine breached containment." The matter-of-fact statement was courtesy of the masked Pittsburgh manager, Alexis Charleton. There was a twinge of worry in her voice, and her use of the entity's first name rather than her number further indicated personal attachment. "Not just for herself, but for all of L-nine and its anomalies, and some other anomalous entities that she'd formed synergetic bonds with at L-six. Contact within the location was lost, and it erupted into our reality at L-six's former geographical location."

"It was at that point that I extracted Councilman Butterfly and informed Leviathan of the situation." Greta Drasi added helpfully. Bay knew better than to ask whether she'd always been standing there.

"And Leviathan contacted me, to inform me that this was going to be a Project mission," Bay finished. "I've been effectively assigned as manager, and we are to use any assets we can get our hands on."

"My anomalous side is out of commission," Tristan Puzzlehoff - Millennium City manager, psychiatrist, anomalous asset - stated, without being asked. Bay looked at him. "908-A is synergized with 833. I've lost control over the entity. He's in there, somewhere, but that's all I know."

Bay sighed at that explanation. "Alright, so total on the list we have the Ice Storm, Leering Ace, Picasso on steroids -" that was the intern nickname for the memetic anomaly that Greta's aura was currently fending off from the minds of the Project assets - "that Eldritch kid that Strings brought back, and the Terminator, plus whatever else Strings is holding in there. Greta, what's the status of Point-Six?"

The anomalous doctor held out her hand, and an Eastern Black Swallowtail formed in her palm. "Present, but straining. I'm just strong enough to keep her with me, but she definitely wants to go to Agent Cantrille."

Bay shook his head, not liking that statement, but needing to say something else. "Let me get one thing straight. The asset known as Laine Cantrille, a.k.a. Synergy, a.k.a. Anchor, is a rogue Levithan-class reality-bending entity. We need to use her anomalous number in conversations. Standard protocol."

Charleton rolled her eyes, and Greta averted her gaze, but nobody argued that point.

"However," he added, "Lev would prefer we make as few terminations as possible in this extraction. The targets are SV-5, and ACF-Eight-Thirty-Three. In addition, we need to begin recontaining any other anomalies still on-site. That's at least two teams. A third team is required to retrieve the Eldritch entity if it still remains on-site, but that's a secondary project unless the entity is directly involved. Any questions so far?"

Isaac's hand went up. "Not really a question, but I just wanna check - it was Lev who put you in charge, right?"

"Yes," Bay said, with an emphatic nod. "Leviathan requested that I direct operations, with the assistance of ACF-707. The Councilman also requested that we call in the assistance of an external group of independent assets. Cotta." The New York agent, satisfied with the first answer, now stood at partial attention. "Greta will retrieve and brief whoever she can from the Society of Superheroes. When she does, assuming that they're willing to cooperate, I want you to head that team in recontainment protocols. We'll send as many aspects of ACF-707 as we can with your group to help counteract any anomalous forces you come across, and help to contain what's escaped before it can get any farther out. Your group is Gold Team."

"Copy that, boss-man."

"Charleton, Puzzlehoff, you two go in ten minutes after they do. Take Point-Six and Strings' question mark, and try to follow the beaten track to 833 and the Councilman. See if you can get her to stand down. You two are White Team."

"Got it."

"Greta, go ahead and get the Society. I'll stand by to back up anybody who needs it and direct operations. We'll communicate through 707, so don't lose your aspects. I've got LB and Councilman Butterfly's birdwing. Any more questions?"

Heads shook, and someone said "No," but Bay couldn't quite tell who. His head turned to Greta, who nodded once - and was gone.

We'll never get free, lamb to the slaughter

Greta formed on the bridge of the Empyrean, body erupting from the center of a swarm of butterflies. Or, perhaps, the young Dr. Greta Drasi had always been there, and nobody had noticed her until now. That would have been an easy mistake, if she hadn't followed her abrupt appearance by speaking before even looking around.

"First thing, don't shoot, I'm with the Project. The - um - the Containment Project. Second thing, there's another incident in Alaska, so whoever's here can you just stand down and let me explain? Thanks."

She hardly stopped to breathe, as she looked around as she relaxed her body. Little Bay was on her shoulder, as if to confirm her story, but there was no guarantee at all that anybody here would recognize the Bay Checkerspot on sight. Or... actually, that there was anybody here at all. Greta should've checked where she was landing, but oh well. Best case scenario, their security would pick up her message and nobody would waste attacks or ammunition on her. Not that she wanted those used at all, but they might be required down on the ground once they arrived. Whether or not anyone was there, she'd relax a little, placing her hands into her lab coat pockets. She came to the conclusion that it was worth going on, now speaking directly into the reality of whoever was on the craft.

"Right, so... I'm Greta Drasi, I work with Agent Richards on the Containment Project. We need help with a different location in the same place as the Decimation incident. If you're willing to help us out, I'm here to take you down there, and I'll brief you as well as I can before we go, but we've got to go soon, because the situation isn't going to get any better down there."

What you gon' do when there's blood in the water?
"Not much farther."

Pollux had felt confident in his selection of location to lead Alpaca on at the beginning of what would, inevitably, be a wild goose chase for a dead man. Not only was L-6 closest to the Siberian Llamanati outpost - besides L-0, but even if he hadn't been with the Foundation, he would have known that that location was nothing more than an empty hole now - but the field L-6 was once under now had nothing there, completely abandoned after the Decimation incident. It would have been a good place to pretend to find a trail towards Leviathan's actual location.

It would have been, had not L-9 been there.

Leviathan's scarred Dog stared at the sky, raining ice like shards of glass, and then glanced at the field, only to be immediately struck blind by something he could only feel on his shoulder. Alpaca, too, would be blinded if she looked at the former location, but their sight would return the moment they looked away, which wasn't long for Pollux, whose head turned to view the perimeter as well as he could. In the distance, he could see a man, and could sense a butterfly.

"Wait here," he growled to Alpaca, "and don't look at the field."

The butterfly on his shoulder, a Mountain Apollo, would continue to shield the woman from the memetic anomaly on the ground, but she went with the tall anomaly to the waiting group of Project members.

"Agent Richards," Pollux called, the moment he was close enough to recognize the brunet man. The young agent looked up at him, and then seemed surprised,

"ACF-404," he acknowledged, looking Pollux up and down. The others present remained quiet, which meant Bay was the man in charge. "Where have you -"

"Does Leviathan need me?" The question was abrupt, and genuine. Whatever had happened here, there wasn't any time to waste.

Richards hesitated, then answered, "Yes."

"What can I do?"

The boy's brown eyes went past the giant of an anomaly, to the woman. He nodded toward her. "Who's that?"

"Former Councilman Llama's assistant, Agent Alpaca. It's a long story," he added, in response to the question Richards seemed about to ask. The boy quickly closed his mouth to consider the reply, then sighed.

"Bring her over. Much as I don't trust anybody related to Llama with this one, we can use all the help we can get. We need a third team anyway."

Without waiting, Pollux turned, and waved to the Llamanati agent for her to come. This sounded like trouble, more trouble than a normal breach. He felt like explanations were going to be rushed, and basic. That was fine by him. His facade was going to be put at risk - but if Leviathan needed him, then he had to prioritize that. He wasn't going to give himself a choice.

The price of your greed is your son and your daughter

Leviathan wished she could be anywhere but her desk right now.

Her assets were on the field, a Councilman was missing, a high-grade Risky-Class anomaly was causing a Leviathan-class breach, and couldn't seem to get any of the other three Councilmen on the line at the same time. She almost pounced on the answer button when a call finally came through from SV-4.

"Tell me something good, Hack."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. There's still no way to contact the inside of the site."

Lev spilled an expletive, but only muttered. "And no sign of Councilman Strings?'

"None. With my anomalies inside there I would recommend that some of my -"

"No." She cut him off. "We can't risk further exposure. The Project can and will handle this one with the assistance of ACF-707."

"Not to argue, Lev, but is that a good idea?" The voice was deeper, and came from a different line she'd been on before Hack's call arrived. "It wouldn't be hard to get one of my teams in there, and clean up the rumor mess afterwards. Besides, secrecy can't really get compromised beyond this."

"That's where you're wrong, Jupiter. They don't know we have paramilitary potential. They didn't even know what our containment sites did until just now. We have to keep what's still secret as hidden as possible, to make cleaning up after easier. Butterfly, is that you?"

Butterfly was swearing when his voice came through. "I told him to do what came naturally, how the hell was I - Oh. Lev. How's Greta doin'."

"Just fine. Bay is much more confident when there are high stakes to his decisions. He's got good leadership potential, and can handle the situation just fine. I have full confidence in my assets."

She didn't say that she was hoping that confidence wasn't misplaced.

What you gon' do when there's blood in the water?

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Re: Breach [Event]

Post by Baltor » Fri Jun 14, 2019 7:25 pm

Only one word came to the redhead's mind when she saw the structure in place of what was formerly the hole known as L-6. "Breach," This term means shit usually broke loose. Only a matter of the class of breach, and, Alpaca, given her experience, figured that out. Leviathan Class. For some reason, she laughed even as she was being protected by the anomalies.

"Looks like you could use Llama's help with this, shall I call him?" All personal belief and reason aside, Alpaca saw opportunity to get on ACF's good books, and this was kinda the perfect opportunity to do it. "Meanwhile, me and my team of R.C.P soldiers can help you guys out with whatever you need." Alpaca said, signalling her men to follow Pollux as she too broke into a run after him, climbing on the back of Khanivore as she did. The beastie let out a happy growl and followed Pollux behind, Khanivore who grew fond of Pollux after spending time in a cage together. "Beastie here can help too"

Until unless she received further instructions regarding the situation or how she was going to be of use, Alpaca had no choice but to follow where Pollux lead him. Still, it felt good to be working for ACF again. She just wished Llama would reconcile with Leviathan and make peace. At this point, solitary confinement in and iced hell was starting to be a tad annoying if she was willing to say it out loud.

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Re: Breach [Event]

Post by Mach2 » Sat Jun 15, 2019 1:04 am

The Empyrean, for the moment, was largely uninhabited. Teja was off on a personal project. Tremor didn't know the details. Gyras was...well, Tremor had no idea. Many of the other members were around, in the sense that they were active. But few made it their habit to occupy the Empyrean at all times. Tremor just liked the view. Between her cramped dorm room (which made for an uncomfortable environment after the most recent home invasion she'd had to deal with) and the floating space station, one location offered a far more serene backdrop as she tried to wrap her head around her latest math assignment. Her last math assignment.

She was staring out at the Earth below, not at her homework, when Greta arrived. And was sufficiently engrossed with the view that she did not immediately notice the woman or the butterflies. Only when Greta spoke did Tremor turn to face her, a surprised expression on her face. "First thing, don't shoot, I'm with the Project. The - um - the Containment Project. Second thing, there's another incident in Alaska, so whoever's here can you just stand down and let me explain? Thanks."

Tremor knew the Containment Project. In the loosest sense of the word. And the mention of 'Alaska' was more than enough to get her attention. The last time anyone had needed to go to Alaska, it had been the Decimation. She waited, expectantly, and listened to Greta's explanation. When the woman had finished, Tremor looked at her apologetically. She'd come here seeking out the Society, and she'd found Tremor. "I think," Tremor said, looking around awkwardly. "Uh, I think I'm the only one here right now. I'll come with you, though. And I can call everyone else."

She closed her math textbook, standing up and gathering her things. No, not things. Just one, single, thing. Tremor bent down to pick up her motorcycle helmet from the ground, tucking it tightly under her arm. Since re-claiming her watch, and her place in the Society, she'd been trying to maintain a habit of carrying the helmet with her at all times. It was good to be prepared. If they were dealing with another Decimation level event - her stomach lurched at the thought - she wanted her helmet with her. As much for protection against whatever she might face as she wanted it as a barrier against her own attacks.

"I'm Tremor," she said, in answer to Greta's own introduction. The woman might have already known that, though. The last Project members she'd met - Lev, Pollux, and Bay Richards - had known her by name before any formal introductions had occurred. "What's happening in Alaska? Give me the quick version. I'll pass the message on to the rest of the Society, and then we can leave."

She tapped the interface of her watch, as if to verify to Greta how she intended to contact the rest of S.O.S.

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Re: Breach [Event]

Post by Containment » Sat Jun 15, 2019 3:00 am

Greta was greeted by a familiar teenager, a girl she'd met in her bay checkerspot aspect with Agent Richards at the last ACF-SOS meeting in California. The aspect perched on her shoulder fluttered a little in greeting, not without a little frustration at not being noticed or acknowledged by the familiar face. Greta ignored her, and listened to what she had to say.

She shook her head violently at the prospect of other people just appearing - Bodysliding, translocating - in Alaska under the current circumstances. "Feel free to contact them, but I'm afraid if anybody else is coming, they'll need to meet us here. There's a powerful memetic hazard active at the site, which is one of a lot of things happening but the biggest immediate risk. Er... layman's terms, there's something that'll mess with your brain really badly if you look at it. I'm a reality-warper, so I've been able to keep its effects off certain people that I'm paying attention to, but if anyone shows up unannounced I don't know if I'll notice them in time. I can translocate just as easily as your watch. I just need to know who else is coming before that."

Her hand emerged from her pocket, and resting on it was something like a Monarch butterfly, except yellower. The researcher looked surprised for a moment. Every aspect meant... something or other. With about seventeen thousand and counting, not even Greta's human mind could keep track of them all. Maybe that was for the better. So she didn't question, as she offered the viceroy butterfly to Tremor.

"Anyway, you should probably hold onto her. She's also a reality-warper, like me, about as strong. She might even bond with you, we tend to do that a lot. In case we get separated or you decide to wait on the others, since I've got to get back soon. Back on topic, though, a separate reality-warper is the problem in Alaska. Several... entities... have been gathered in a single space and are linked to that reality-warper. We need to get the situation under control, and Agent Richards thought to ask your Society for help." She winced, a little. "I'm um... I'm not really good at quick versions of things. Bay will be able to explain better when we get there. That's if you're coming, of course, and whoever else."
Last edited by Containment on Mon Jun 17, 2019 1:17 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Breach [Event]

Post by Orange » Sat Jun 15, 2019 3:02 am

It has been almost 48 hours since we had resurrected whatever in the hell it was the job had been completed and my reward still has not come. I thought the Avenger despite his injuries would have made sure that I got the information I needed but nothing had come no notes, no calls and definitely not a single word. To put it mildly, I was still pissed off about his scheming but this confirmed it The Avenger would know what it was like to go back on your deal with Bran Sunderson. I had managed to procure some of his blood before and after the ritual, that I already started to use in a ritual of my own making a locator/ teleportation spell that would get me as close as possible to the Avenger as long as he was here on earth. Up to now, the spell hadn't worked but it was only a matter of time before he showed his ugly face again so I waited.

Hours would pass until something finally began to happen as a location showed itself to me it seemed like some sort of facility in the middle of an icy wasteland but this was the only lead I had and the one I was more than willing to take, "Esca it's time to go I have a location."

Esca had been bored for hours after all of this endless waiting. She had wanted to do something for several days and now was her chance to get to have some fun her formerly straight face turned into a smile as she started flapping her wings floating above the bed before finally flying over to the ritual spell," Ready!" She gave a salute before dropping a little bit and starting to fly again.

I smiled for the first time all day, "Then let's go get our payment," I walked into the ritual with Esca which would immediately open a portal to the location and we would step out onto a snowy plain. I would pull my cloak closer to my body hoping it might help me stay warm and at this moment I wished I had a fire spell to keep myself warm. I started to walk up to the group that was forming outside the door not preparing any spells yet hoping that they would be reasonable.

"Where is the Avenger!?!? I know he is here he owes me my payment!!!!!!"

I continued to walk ever closer but I knew now they would be pointing their guns at me or at the very least watching me closely," I didn't help him with that damned resurrection ritual for nothing! Where in the hell is he!!!!!!" Esca hid in my coat trying to stay warm but was visible to those present waving as we joined the crowd happy that hopefully, we would be the center of attention. I didn't care I only wanted my payment but as I stood there a moment I started to see the mood was not whether I would get paid but getting inside to take care of something else, "Don't tell me... Something has gone wrong, hasn't it?" This wouldn't be the first time I had to deal with someone else's problem to get my payment and wouldn't be my last.

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Re: Breach [Event]

Post by Flint » Sat Jun 15, 2019 3:44 am




Truth be told, Arno had been trying to watch his profanity. Words like those belonged in a soldier's mouth, not a superhero's. But still, he was feeling anxiety creep up the back of his spine, urgency to act suddenly gripping him in the middle of a standard workday. He'd been at the BEACON facility, doing a basic check-over of the security cameras...

...and he'd witnessed Francine Southam, alias Tremor, engaging with an Unknown Entity Type One. It was pure chance that his eyes had come to rest on one of the screens the moment whatever it was had appeared; he had no audio on the video feed, and for all he knew, she was about to come under attack on his watch. More disturbingly, something had intruded upon the Empyrean...but then, that was known to happen. Lax security, or just unusual circumstances? Who could say.

Flint hadn't spoken to Southam once...but he'd seen her twice before. Once in Morro Bay, when he'd allowed her to follow him into danger, and another time in Solar City, when she'd helped evacuate Arin Gestalt's neighborhood. Their paths had crossed in unusual ways.

The same thing that brought me here, brought her here. All in the same place at the same time, he thought, exhaling as he pulled on his other glove. A confidence mantra, a reminder to believe. There was some greater force at play. He had to trust it.


Arno flashed into being near her location on the Empyrean.

No time to stop and think.

"What's going on here?" he asked, unslinging the shield from his back as he emerged, mask on.

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Re: Breach [Event]

Post by Lord of Nothing » Sat Jun 15, 2019 8:32 am

Just a little bit, he'd told himself. A pint from each and every adult in the town. Even less from children, whose life-fluids nourished him well for demented reasoning. They were simply young, and had longer lives ahead of them than most. Such, it was second only to the blood of an immortal. Or a baby, whom he would not touch. What disgusted him most, is the reasoning behind it.

Power. The power to stand against what was to come. To get information. Answers. To be worthy of acknowledgement and of truth.

No more silence. No more lies.

Small towns like this often had fear lingering about them. Fear of the dark was common when their truly were things which lurked in the dark. We lived in a world with far too many exceptions to natural law. A world where monsters often would prey on places like this, where everyone knew each other and there was but a single sheriff. Where the people were far from things that would help them. It was a place for monsters to prey.

Gas was getting low, and he needed some for the return trip. Not many gas stations out here, further and further from society. The cold lacked cruelty to a Nosferatu, a creature who was of the dark and of the cold. Of things antithetical to energy. But he was drawn to the warmth of human bodies and to the lingering fear. To the vulnerability. To the weak.

Voracious trudged through the snow, now in full body armor beneath his trench coat, the shivering cold doing nothing to his body as it did what it always did as his body matched the temperature. But the blood did not freeze nor did his body ever at any time slow down when his mind had locked onto an objective. His rifle was slung loosely around his neck, hovering in front of his chest, ready to be shot immediately. His "Executioner" Ceremonial Greatsword was tied to his back and could be drawn given time.

How long had he been walking? Running? A few hours with only some vague sense of where he was actually going. There was life here. A lingering dread which drew him. Almost hesitation. An unnaturalness which set him off and repelled most creatures. Competition was difficult when one was not an Apex predator. But then something happened.

"What's that smell?"

His eyes turned blood red. He'd caught wind of the smell before the wind even carried more than a molecule of the stuff over to him.

Such a sweet smell.

The sudden wind whipped through her clothing, snapping the buttons on her shirt, leaving the blood-filled hole in her chest open to the elements. The wind stirred the blood inside, or perhaps it was only the motion of her breathing. The crimson-irised eye floating within surfaced, keeping Watch through the storm through the dimensions.
He a walk turned into a steady run.

A storm. A Shards of Ice surrounding a great tower which did not belong here. Something new. The facility, looked oddly technological. High tech. But there were no doors. Fitting, for something meant to contain. But something had clearly gotten out.

I let this happen, didn't I?

His hand clenched his blade, and he began to unravel it from his body, leather strapsfapping loosely in the wind. "No. More. Talk." He held the blade in one hand as he soon brought it to rest on his shoulder. He started to walk towards the eye of the storm.

A walk turned into a run. The run into a sprint.

They're flying to me.

He realized then he was in a fight. The storm itself, was sentient, the shards moving to converge in on him as they span.

The Shards sinking into snow of where Septimus once was. Boots moved rapidly as the monstrous man moved lightly and ran on top of the snow with his feet barely having any oppertunity to sink into the ground. They were everywhere. Shards of ice attempting to emb their way into his armor. A storm of ice.

Like a storm of bullets.

He began to simply this, thinking of it the same way as being in war. Only there was no target except for him. Like a firing squad in the distance, his tactics became similar. Small shards simply shattered against his armor. Larger shards, he saw coming. His head weaved. He would stop, and keep running. Jump and roll.


Shards clashed with steel, as he took his sword with two hands. He swung it fast, but such a large blade required momentum. A miss would means death, momentum too big. He made the air sing, as he twirled his blade and with skill beyond that of a beast and speed beyond that of a man. Ice shattering all around him, as his blood burned away inside until he found a gap. A single split second in which he wasn't about to be impaled six ways from sunday. His twirl tuned into a spin.

His hand let go and he tossed the blade. Sending it spinning through the air and impacting with enough force to crater crater into the side of the building as he pierced.

Boots trotted against the snow again. Bang Bang Bang Bang. He sniped the shards straight of the air. Another clashed with his rifle, as he smacked it off course. Others missed as he ran forward, closer and closer to the building until he just jumped, putting almost everything his has into it.

He lands on the sword embed into the side of the building with Ninja like grace, before with explosive power, he jumps.

Shards follow him, shattering against the side of the building as he ascends and stops at his apex. He turns upside down, flipping through the air as he begins to flip in order to fall faster.


The shard comes straight for his head, a few feet away, and slices into his cheek as he spins. His landing is less the graceful as he falls into the hole and lands in the building crack accompanying his rolling. Ice spikes followed his wake, stabbing into the ground where he once was until he finally ended up in the open door of the building.

He was in a hallway. Narrow corridor. Close Quarter encounter likely. He had no sword. Only his knife and the bayonet for dedicated Melee weapons. His Trenchgun was most well suited. Armor piercing slugs, to deal with bulletproof opponents.


Sniff sniff. The smell of blood.

He followed it, like he always did.
Last edited by Lord of Nothing on Sun Jun 16, 2019 6:38 am, edited 2 times in total.

Lethe, The Once Reaper
Voracious, The Vampire Vagabond
Vas, The Shadow Man
Amaranth, The Ultimate Life-Form
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Nosferatu, The Damned Descendants of the Darkblood

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Re: Breach [Event]

Post by Mach2 » Sat Jun 15, 2019 4:01 pm


Tremor hugged her motorbike helmet to her chest, listening to Greta's explanation. There was resolve in her expression. A readiness for action, even though she did not yet understand precisely what she was about to throw herself into. Even after Greta provided details on the situation, she wasn't sure she understood. After all, there was a lot of weird shit in the world. And she'd only seen a fraction of it.

Some things, you had to see to understand.

Only when the butterfly was offered to her did Tremor's expression soften. "You should probably hold onto her." The way Greta described the tiny creature - her, not a 'this', or an 'it' - relayed the significance. Tremor held out a hand, and watched as the little butterfly landed on her fingertip. A portion of her brain wondered how she was going to keep the tiny lady from getting smushed in the oncoming battle.

She nodded, confirming that she'd heard everything Greta had said. Not necessarily understood, but she'd heard the words. She began to answer, intending to confirm that she had every intention of coming along to help. And recruiting whoever else the Society had available. "I'm definitely co-"

"What's going on here?"

She jumped, causing the butterfly to alight from her fingertip and flutter a circle around her. Tremor turned rapidly to face...someone. It took her a moment to figure out who she was looking at. His face was covered with a mask, and they had yet to actually have a conversation. "Nothing," she answered quickly, trying to defuse his aggression. "Not here, anyways. It's Alaska."

Tremor tapped the interface of her watch once more. She had enough details now that she could pass the message along. "Calling S.O.S...uh...this is Tremor."

"There's an incident in Alaska. Same spot as Decimation, different problem. The Containment Project is asking for our help with it. If anyone's available, bodyslide to the Empyrean as soon as possible. Preferably now. Don't go directly to Alaska. There's a memetic hazard."
The way she said the word was slightly off. Mispronounced just enough to hint at the fact that she had no idea what it meant. "Empyrean first, then Containment will bring us to Alaska..."

She trailed off, wondering if she should end the message with a 'goodbye', like a phone call. She decided against it, and simply tapped her watch once more. In hindsight, perhaps she should have let Flint or Greta put out the call. She looked down at the face of her watch once more, expectantly waiting to see if it lit up with any responses. "Let's give them...a couple minutes?" she suggested, her tone uncertain. The Society existed to respond to threats. But she knew Krakatoa had hit them hard, and some had still not recovered from that.

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Re: Breach [Event]

Post by Containment » Sat Jun 15, 2019 5:55 pm

Tremor accepted the viceroy butterfly, and handled her with care. They seemed to click almost immediately, which was good, for the moment. What it might mean later was beyond Greta's current attention span, which quickly shifted when a man with a shield walked in. She knew who it was before her human senses completely picked him up.

"Sarge," she started, before the fact that he was masked fully registered. She paused, panicked a little, looked like she was about to try to explain, then hung her head in a mix of shame and confusion. "I really need to stop doing that."

Too late to turn back now. She looked back up, as if trying to read Arno Flint's reaction to her recognition. "That's... an even tougher explanation than what's happening in Alaska. We've met before, though. Innsmouth, I was with King. But, you know, different." The question mark butterfly was on her shoulder where the bay checkerspot might never have been, or just wasn't anymore, or something, as if to help support the explanation in her own weird way.

She debated mentioning her own reality-warping again, but that might just make things worse, so she left that be. Besides, it was irrelevant at the moment. As Tremor cut off the signal, Greta turned back to the red-white-and-blue former-daemon. "Tremor got the gist of it. There's a reality-bender there that's connected to one of our locations, and a number of... unpredictable entities inside it. It- it involves Cthulhu. Also from Innsmouth. I don't know if you remember him."

Before she could make the situation any more confusing, she decided to turn back to Tremor, and answer her half-question. "I don't know how long I can give them, but a few minutes seems reasonable. When Bay recalls me, though, I'm going to have to leave with whoever's here. Anyone after that will just have to know where to go that's safe."
Last edited by Containment on Mon Jun 17, 2019 1:18 am, edited 1 time in total.

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