it's gonna rain - and it never ends

[thespaceopera]

[ It's midday, or close enough to it that the sun is blazing red hot above the planet. Everything seems ordinary - for disturbing, red-tinted values of ordinary, anyway. But the normalcy doesn't last for long.

Without warning, an explosive sound shocks through the jungle. It doesn't come from any one central point, but rather several points, scattered throughout, strategically placed to the advantage of someone. And from those massive shocks rises a wave of missiles - large, fast, and apparently, freely flying. They're guided, and they've locked onto their target: any foreign ship that is currently within Lato'li's atmosphere.

There's no way to mistake it. They're headed right for the Fleet.

The first wave feels a bit sporadic - timings might be off, but the missiles are still deadly, and if they hit, they hit hard. Shields might withstand this wave, but ships without shields will take direct hits. The ability to stay airborn is very, very quickly lost.

The second wave is much more precise, expertly timed and executed by whomever is firing from below. Even smaller shuttles get caught in the crosshairs, and those ships that lasted through the first volley will take a few more shots. If shields saved you before, they will fail here, giving out under the strain.

And the third wave comes, a little bit longer after, to finish the job. There are more of them, and they are far more advanced - they make the previous two volleys look like warning shots. This time, it's all missiles launched, all targets acquired.

Seven Fleet ships - and many, many shuttles - fall out of the sky, headed straight for the surface at alarming speed. Only four ships manage to escape the assault and exit the planet's atmosphere, retreating to orbit as fast as possible. Those lucky enough to have been in orbit can only watch as all of this happens.

But the missiles aren't the only thing up their sleeve. Just when the dust settles, while the network is surely lighting up with activity, attempts to contact one another and check on the status of fellow ships and crew, A loud, quick, terrible screeching noise shocks the network. It drowns out all communications on any connected devices - ship or personal. Ships in orbit will see all on-board systems flicker, then fizzle out, all non-emergency systems have gone completely down.

And with that.. there's silence. Perhaps too much silence. No matter what you do, no matter which buttons you press, which channels you try, there is no connection. Those who have dropped to the surface are entirely radio silent, and those in orbit have been reduced to the barest of abilities and life-support, with the bare minimum of contact.

So... What can you do now? ]


(( ooc: Feel free to use this post as a mingle for all your crashy or missile-dodgy needs!

• The following ships have been shot down: Bishop, Bloodsport, Blue Fish, Goldstone, Heron, Tourist, Twin Roses.
• The following ships are now in orbit: Blameless, Caprine, First Breath, Huntress, Iskaulit, Red Fish, Starstruck, Vanquish, Wonderduck

Good luck, Dear Fleet...~ ♪ ))

Comments

[wolfehawke]

[Adalwolfe's wordless cry cuts through the clearing and brings the attention to him as he scrambles several feet across the muddy ground. The Vizeri who'd cut Anders down stands a few feet away from the other mage's body, attention turned to Adalwolfe as the force mage whirls through the remaining cannibals, weaponless and yet still leaving corpses in his wake with smoking wounds or crushed anatomy. Magic crackles around him in a cloud as he breaks the mob and continues inexorably towards his target, raising his hair in snowy tendrils and lifting forest detritus from the ground as a massive spell brews. A moment later and Wolfe screams again, a bestial noise as he clenches his fists and drops them both down towards the ground. The Vizeri beside Anders goes down, an enormous fist apparent for just a moment crushing him like an ant into the soft ground.

The magic leaves him as he half runs, half stumbled the rest of the way and collapses to his knees at Anders' side, rage bleeding from him and replaced by wild anxiety and panic.]

No, no no no no stay with me Anders, stay here love. Talk to me!

[He tries to cast, to summon up what little creation magic he has to stem the bleeding, but with the spear still in him there's little Wolfe can do and he knows enough to know that to remove the spear would be instantly fatal.]

Say something, love. Please, please stay with me!

[wolfuncaged]

[Out of all the possible ways Anders could have reacted this, this was definitely on the bottom of the list of how Fenris believed he would react. He absolutely doesn't get involved in Wolfe's rescue effort- he knows that sort of action would be suicide. He stares, dumbfounded for a moment, before turning back, sword raised, putting himself between the forest and the mages, poised and ready to defend, should more come. ]

How bad is it? Can we move him?

[Stupid, blighted mage. ]

[whatisright]

[Justice had been on patrol when he heard the struggle. He picks up his pace, going towards the noise, presuming that whoever the hunters are attacking will need help--and then he feels who's there.

Anders, his boyfriend, and the angry elf. Anders' boyfriend is panicking.

Anders is dying.

It happens like it did with Riona. For the second time since leaving the Fade, his body just ignores the laws of the mortal world. He wants so intensely to be there that in one moment, he is alone in the woods, and in the next, he is right next to Anders.

There's so much blood.

Justice has seen more than his fair share of blood, but suddenly, he can't stand the sight. This isn't like Riona, who was seriously injured but mobile. Anders is impaled. Justice doesn't know how to fix it. None of the basic first aid that Anders has taught him prepared him for this. Once again, he's utterly helpless in the face of a dying friend, and now there's no healer to drag him to.

There's no healer. No, no, damn it, there's no healer. Anders' boyfriend sings with creation magic, but he can't heal Anders!

No. No, Justice is not going to panic. Panic would guarantee Anders' death, and that is unacceptable. Justice is not going to give up. He is not accepting that Anders is dead until his body is ice.

All this goes through Justice's head in the moments it takes for him to observe the scene. He is not expressive, so it would be easy for someone who doesn't know him to mistake his frowning expression as one of indifference or even irritation, but his eyes are wider than usual, and his normally rock steady hands shake, his fingers turning his lyrium ring.

He kneels by Anders, utterly silent and unblinking, not even bothering to acknowledge the others in the clearing. He carefully rests one hand on Anders' wrist, letting the pads of his fingers settle over Anders' pulse. It's a small gesture for a mortal, but for Justice, it's enormous. He's never actively sought contact before.

Justice doesn't try talking. Instead, he listens. He listens to Anders' mind, to the memories lingering on his skin, looking for anything that can help them save his life. There are holes in his abilities, blocks that drown out certain things, but Justice doesn't care if he has to split his own skull and take the damned augment off. Anders will not die today.]

[wolfehawke]

[Justice just... appears and for likely the first time ever Wolfe isn't unhappy to see him. He doesn't have the attention to be unhappy about it, not when his entire being is focused on Anders, on the blood flecking his lips and the light leaving his eyes. He can't let this happen, he can't watch him die too.

Adalwolfe flicks his gaze to Justice briefly, just for half a second with a plea unspoken, and opens himself. Opens himself to anything that could help, any power that could keep Anders here, with him, alive.

He's not sure what the feeling is that comes over him after that. Its a fierce heat but leaves him unharmed. A blue fire that shines white at its center and seems to flow around him in a current, around them in a current, between himself and Justice. He opens himself to this current and rides with it, not knowing what it can do but knowing instinctually somehow where he needs to guide it. It's love, he thinks. It's comforting and fierce, it's protective and nurturing and so so very familiar.

Eyes glowing a soft gold-blue and seemingly in a trance, Adalwolfe carefully reaches out and removes the spear as if it's no more than a splinter. His hands fall back over the wound the moment the weapon is discarded, tendrils of mana flowing from Justice, to Adalwolfe, and in smaller arcs like golden lightning to Anders, knitting the interior damage, stemming the bleeding, keeping Anders alive, making him whole again.

What feels like it takes an eternity only takes a handful of minutes and when the magic flickers and starts to fade, it's all Adalwolfe can do not to slump over Anders' body. The magic may have done most of the job - and done it right, Adalwolfe just knows somehow - but there's still the surface wound to deal with. With bloody-shaking fingers and a heavy exhaustion setting in, he doesn't have time to sort through what he's feeling just yet. Instead he digs for his injury kit. He always carries a spare for Anders to use; bandages, needle, thread. He's never had to use it on Anders before. He whispers hoarsely as he works, half wishing someone would just take the damn needle from him so he could cradle his love's head in his lap.]

It's alright now, everything's alright. You're going to be fine, I promise, My Heart. You're alive. You're still here...

[Wolfe's sutures are haphazard and uneven, his hands shaky and indelicate, but Anders is alive and that's what matters.]