exploration mingle: CAPTIVITY

[riverviewmod]

who: everyone in Riverview!
what: exploration mingle: rescue mission!
when: June 15 - August 15
where: The River Structure
warnings: violence and/or torture; please put any necessary warnings in the subject lines

captivity

One of the major and most highly-valued cultural concepts in Riverview is that of exploration, expansion. Especially now that, with the recent influx of new arrivals, as the portal kicks into high gear for reasons not entirely known, the Inhabited City, already comfortably full, is rapidly becoming overpopulated. With all the refugees from other worlds pouring in from day to day, the city's safe space and resources are being taxed to their breaking point.

Right now, exploration and expansion is key, and each month, the government has decided to focus on a particular objective, in order to unite citizens in expanding, securing, and supplying the city for everyone's benefit.

the story so far

Exploration & Expansion Progress Report ● The Guardians of the Deep ● What Lies Beneath ● Plotting & Questions

After some serious flooding at the banks of the river, the cause was discovered to be the Guardians of the Deep, creatures protecting a circular labyrinthine structure underneath the river. Residents of the city explored and mapped the structure, and dealt with a good portion of the traps and other dangers, until they found a little piece of history in the Central Chamber of the structure, revealing that it was inhabited by the first people to live on the moon.

While this news has been exciting scholars and historians in the city, something a little more pressing has been bothering the average citizen - an ever-increasing number of missing persons. People have simply been disappearing all over the city, and only now are residents starting to realize why...

how it works

● Phases: Each prompt is a different phase of the operation. Characters may partake in whichever part of the operation they choose, whether it is a large and prominent part, or a more of a backseat or support role. Characters may participate in as many phases as they wish.

● Completion: When next month's exploration mingle goes up, the mission featured on this exploration mingle will be considered complete, and game canon, providing the entry has 200+ comments on it.

● Entry Reward: The reward for completion of this month's exploration objective will be...well, the safe return of everyone who was kidnapped. And some sweet hurt/comfort.

● IMPORTANT NOTE: Having observed how the pacing of exploration mingles has been going and how they are tagged, I have noticed that posting one exploration mingle each month has been a little hectic, both plotwise and for me as a mod (writing three mingles a month has been tough!). I have decided to space them out a bit further, and post an exploration mingle once every two months, starting with this one - the next exploration mingle will be posted in August!

phase i: the abducted

People don't simply go missing, they don't disappear into thin air, they have to be somewhere. And while those who are missing people keep frantically searching, those who have been kidnapped are the only ones besides the kidnappers who do know where they are.

Abducted by a group who have taken up residence in the structure under the city after last month's exploration died down, the missing are trapped in the Central Chamber, in fear of the kidnappers. Their abductors are a group of people that is starting to slowly take on cultist tendencies, believing that the remaining spirits of the First People still live in the structure, that it is a temple, and that those First People need offerings of host bodies to inhabit so they can return and bring their wisdom and magic back to the moon. Things are getting a little hairy - there's no agreement among the kidnappers as to how 'intact' the host bodies have to be and whether or not the sacrifice is in the form of alive or dead captives. Even worse, some of the kidnappers are only with the group to enjoy having power over others and using it to hurt them.

Captives are held in the Central Chamber of the structure, with next to no amenities. Blankets, food, water, and other necessities are in short supply, and they are kept huddled together, constantly guarded and either restrained, wearing or in the presence of a power suppressor to keep them subdued. But the captives haven't lost hope - they are working on getting a message out, finding a way to contact the outside world so their loved ones can rescue them...

This prompt is to play out interactions among the captives before they are rescued, and may include violence or other character suffering. It is also to enact plotted plans for the abductees to find connections with the outside world to summon help.

phase ii: distraction and infiltration

Once would-be rescuers become aware of where the captives are being held, they start making plans to rescue them - whether someone they love has been taken, they're just a good person, or they just want to feel like a big damn hero, there are lots of people willing to take the plunge and jump into the rescue. But the cult group has been in control of the structure for a while now, they definitely have the home team advantage. They know the lay of the land and where the traps are, and have used some of them to their own advantage.

It's not going to be as easy as storming the castle.

There are two parts to this phase of the rescue: a distraction and an infiltration. Distractions are planned to draw as many of the kidnappers away from the hostages being held in the Central Chamber as possible, while those who are stealthily infiltrating will try to find another entrance into the chamber so they can surprise and surround the remaining kidnappers.

This prompt is to play out any plans for distraction and infiltration. If you have plotted something out on the plotting post, feel free to post up a header for specific groups for threading rather than an individual character top-level.

phase iii: the brawl and after

Distractions only last so long, unfortunately, and so eventually the whole thing is going to break down into a big fight. Rescuers versus kidnappers, on the kidnappers' home turf, and surrounded by traps left over from the First People, while pieces of stationary tech throw out auras and waves of power suppression. It's going to be a doozy of a fight, so prepare for an epic throwdown!

And once the dust settles, there's going to be a lot of injuries to tend to, a lot of people traumatized and hurt and frightened. A lot of hungry, suffering people will need to be transported out, given medical care, and brought supplies.

This prompt is to play out the final fight between the kidnapping cult and the rescuers, as well as anything in the aftermath of the fight.

phase iv: wildcard

Have an idea for a mission-adjacent plot, or want to make up an unexpected plot twist or problem and solve it with your character? Just write up a starter, and don't forget to give yourself props by submitting it for the Progress Report.

navigation
[Asterion - Environment Art: Ariadne's Forest by Nicolas Mendoza]

Comments

Teddy Altman | Marvel 616

[analienprince]

Phase I

A. [The last thing he clearly remembers? Heading home from work before everything got kind of fuzzy and then went black. He's not an easy guy to knock out and he knows he had to have been hit with some sort of really strong magic to even accomplish that.

Teddy wakes up dizzy, his head aching and his body sluggish in ways it usually isn't. He's always been a fast healer. He's always been able to shrug off pain like it's nothing... because generally? It is. He knows something is wrong instantly, even before he realizes there's something wrapped tight around his neck. Whatever it is, he realizes in quick succession that it's preventing him from changing his shape, that it's knocked his strength down to zero.

It's alarming in ways he didn't think were possible. He feels cut off from himself, useless.

And okay, scared.

He's stuck as just Teddy Altman, in some creepy place where people think he's apparently just a swell host body for people who are apparently long since dead. Great. Just amazingly great. Like his life wasn't enough of a mess, he's in a sickeningly familiar role as a prisoner and an experiment.

Plus, Teddy Altman by himself is just an average guy with a lot of ear piercings. He's nowhere near as impressive as Hulkling, no where near as intimidating as he wants to be. He's not a small guy, maybe. He was big enough to hang with the jocks in high school, but that's not the kind of tough he needs right now.

But it isn't like Teddy to get scared, no. He gets angry. He gets defiant and stubborn, even with the power downgrade and being starved. It gets him pushed around, it gets him beat and abused in ways that make him want to curl into himself as bad memories get the better of him... but Teddy isn't one to back down or to not throw punches or kicks of his own when he's able to. He's not going to cower and give the kidnappers what they want.

Good thing he's always been good at putting on a brave face.

Besides, he's been dissected before, so like hell is he rolling over and accepting anything they try to do to him or others. He's not letting anyone else live a nightmare he's been through.]

B. [More than himself, Teddy is worried about the other captives. He might not think he's particularly amazing or special, but Teddy is used to being a shield. He's used to protecting others. Now is no different. He's not shy about acting out if someone is being harassed, drawing attention to himself whenever is possible. Even with the suppression, he's fairly sure he can live through it. He can deal with the pain.

Other people shouldn't have to.

If he's not trying to protect them by drawing the pain on to himself or wedging himself between others and their kidnappers, he's trying to check on those that seem like they're scared or hurt. He's trying to offer whatever distractions he possibly can. He's not above offering his helping of food or water to someone who might need it more than him. Perks of being an alien hybrid -- he's mostly capable of living on very little.]

C. [The very minute people start getting ideas for getting out of this mess, Teddy is on board. He's willing to act as a distraction for someone to get out, get them help in any way that they can as long as it means they get out already. If it means starting a fight with their guards or amongst themselves, whatever. He'll do it.]

Phase III

A. [He's a bruised, sore mess by the time it's all said and done, but the minute the suppression collar is removed from him, his healing kicks in to repair the damage. It's just... a lot. It'll take some time. He'll just look like a mess until then.

But Teddy is already feeling better, so when he can, he's checking on other rescued captives or anyone who's injured to make sure they're doing okay, talking to whoever approaches him. Even if it's to just reassure that he's doing okay.

... and maybe, once everything dies down a little bit, Teddy can be found tucked off by himself and away from sight, his hand changing to something less human and more alien. Or monstrous, depending on your perspective. His skin changes to green, his fingers growing larger and into claws as his skin thickens to something more like armor or scales. God, it feels good to be able to do that again... he can't even say. His abilities are what make him... well, him. They're a part of him. Having been cut off from them like that? It was a nightmare he doesn't care to repeat in the slightest.

Things are nowhere near okay, but at least they're slightly better than they were.]

i.b

[wiccant]

( teddy has been dissected before. even better? billy was the one who watched every second of it, eyes on teddy as scalpels cut into his skin, tore into him, tried to find organs that wouldn't cooperate but it was still--absolutely awful to watch. he remembers that day well, remembers how horrifying it had been (i want you to die) and it's that very memory that's choking him up now.

spells rambled under his breath in a near-constant stream as he keeps arms wrapped around his legs. billy's bruised, hungry, eyes red and puffy and shoulders shaking because he can't do this again, he really can't, he can't--watch this happen, again and tommy's here in the mess somewhere, teddy's here, teddy, who took the brunt of damage last time and he's--

flying across the floor after getting thrown to the side protecting someone else. predictably teddy. billy chokes back another fresh wave of sobs (those aren't getting the collar off, they're not protecting teddy, they're useless and gross and--) before getting onto his hands and knees, crawling across the dirt on shaky limbs before threading fingers into teddy's hair, holding tight onto him so he can press their foreheads together. )

Teddy--Teddy, please, stop, I--can't, I need you to--

Rogue | Marvel 616

[backwaterbelle]

[It had been date night, and as such, Rogue was dressed a a little fancier than usual, having already sent a text to let the lucky person know she and the bag of food were en route. It had been a beautiful night and with her hair actually done, the mutant had decided to happily walk instead of fly or ride.

Everything happened so fast after that, thunder clouds forming out of nowhere in the sky not too far away catching her attention, the violently familiar lightning that followed capturing her attention to her own detriment.

Timing was everything, and while she put up one hell of a fight, even catching some skin on skin of one of the abductors, with magic, a power suppressor, and the element of surprise, the mutant didn't win that evening.

Nor was she, or any of the captives, winning in their captivity.]

Ia | pick on someone your own size

[It's been quite some time since Rogue's been properly depowered in a situation where they'd be mighty useful. Needless to say, she's pretty damn salty about the whole situation.

One particularly nasty kidnapper had decided to have their fun over another hostage, neither she recognized, a fact that didn't halt her from interjecting herself into the situation, trying to put herself literally between her and the other captive.

From the bruises and dried blood she already wore, it's clearly not the first time she's attempted this tactic. Sometimes it's worked, and others, well there's a reason the mutant's a mess.]

You know, most gods lookin' for new flesh digs don't like them all damaged before they move on in.

[Throwing shade at their captors probably wasn't helping matters.]

Ib| stolen memories last forever

[Even she needed to rest and build her strength for the next fight, not that she could tell night from day. Her body ached and the pain in her skull fluctuated from dull and constant to explosive and constant. It's quite delightful.

Without proper sleep on top of food of fluids, Rogue occasionally heard voices, but were they really voices? They're so familiar, so real inside her mind. The memories of those she's touched reverberating into what felt like reality, waking nightmares and heartbreaks plaguing her as hope and happier memories slipped through her sleeping moments, fracturing away too quickly and at the slightest distraction.

To others, she may appear as though she's talking to nothing, or trying to escape an invisible foe (or maybe another captive). More often, she just appeared as though in a trance or sleeping, and when the memory's particularly upsetting, tears may escape down her cheeks.

Such was the burden of her touch.]

III | pick on someone your own size volume 2

[All bets are off when the power suppressor's removed, and while she didn't have a healing factor to jump start her back to new, she sure as hell had friends.
Expect her to jump into the fray in a now destroyed fancy dress, looking like hell in a handbasket, while flying around and flinging lighting bolts at those who once held her captive.

She's got plenty of pent up rage from their captivity.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, or a X-Woman wronged. Mostly the former. Rogue didn't take kindly to crazy religious fanatics trying to use her and other unwilling persons as host bodies. She had enough memories of others knocking around in her head already, thanks.

When the fighting's no longer necessary, however, the mutant's adrenaline fades and her exhaustion takes the wheel. She'd even cooperate with seeing a doctor.]

IV | wildcard

[ooc: Have another idea of a thread? Send me a message and let's discuss it!
I'm pretty open and flexible to things.]

[ i. a ]

[sentiences]

[ Dorian doesn't get nervous. Afraid. It's not a feeling he's ever had in high-octane situations like these. His directive is to protect, not to give way to his own fears. He doesn't needle his captors so much as constantly ask them the same questions over and over. Or sing Careless Whisper very loudly. Which resulted in them cutting his leg off. And an arm.

Tony is going to be annoyed, Dorian thinks to himself. At Rogue's remark, they turn to her. Dorian mutters. ]

That's not encouraging.

peter quill | mcu | ota

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter doesn't notice anything amiss right away. Riverview has been pretty nice, really, which means his guard is lowered considerably. And more than that, he's never really had a second sense for these things. So when someone flags him down, claims they need urgent help, he stops, switches over into Hero Mode. He follows them into a side alley—

And gets fucking beaned.

Listen, five on one is fucking awful odds, but he puts up a decent fight, takes one of them out entirely before they grab hold of him. They search him, take his guns, and just as they ready a pair of cuffs—

Peter loses his shit.

Light flares around him, and he decks one of the guys holding him with a single punch, shoves away the other straight into a wall, dazing him. There's shouting around him, but he ignores it, casting around for a suitable escape route. He's desperate and hates where this is going, but as he runs toward the mouth of the alley, two other cultists leap from the woodwork, and knock him to the ground. They fix a collar around his neck, and the fight goes out of him, after that – but mostly because they knock him the fuck out. ]

phase i: fooling yourself (the angry young man);

[ Peter's been imprisoned more times than he cares to admit, but this place might very well be the worst he's ever been in. He yanks at his collar, tries to pry it off to no avail, and when he realizes there might actually be no getting out of this – not while they're surrounded by armed cultists who can't decide if they're more valuable dead or alive – he tries a different tactic.

He shittalks the cultists a whole lot. Ridicules their dress and their looks and makes a few choice comments about where they could stick their dumbass beliefs. He doesn't physically confront anyone— until he sees a cultist with blood orange skin wander past behind the armed guards. In his hand, the man holds a small, brown device. The screen illuminates, and Peter quickly realizes the bastard has his fucking Zune.

Peter's mind goes blank, after that, and fury takes over. He shouts wordlessly and launches himself forward, only to be caught and thrown back. But that doesn't deter him, and he tries to break the line, again and again and again. The thieving cultist stands and watches, smirks with the earbuds securely in place, while Peter screams and curses and demands the ugly bastard drop the Zune where he stands. (Peter doesn't know it, but "If Looks Could Kill" by Heart plays loudly on the device, because life's a bitch.) The cultists soon realize Peter's not going to stop after just a few shoves, that he's not going to be menaced with a little rough handling, and rather than let him wear himself out, someone socks him across the jaw.

They beat him halfway to hell before he's finally forced to stay down. ]

phase i: let's stay together;

[ At some point, as he props himself up against a wall, he finds a familiar face. Or rather, Lanie finds him.

She surprises him by nestling against his side, shivering and just as silent as he remembers. She seems— terrified, and Peter can't exactly blame her. So he lets her bury her face against his shirt (even though his ribs hurt like hell, and what the fuck, did that cultist have steel-toed boots or something?) and murmurs a few quiet reassurances. ]

We're gonna be fine. [ Soft and gentle and imbued with conviction. ] I've got friends out there, okay? And my girlfriend is going to seriously wreck some faces when she realizes what happened.

phase iii: my boyfriend's back;

[ By the time the cavalry arrives, Peter's exhausted and hungry and royally fucking pissed. Lanie has Peter's jacket draped over her shoulders, and in the days that pass, he's given her a share of his portion of their paltry meals. He's pretty sure he could devour a buffet or sleep for six years, if given half the chance, but when Lanie looked at him whenever he shoved some of his food toward her, he would only shrug and tell her, "Not hungry. Besides, this all tastes like crap, anyway."

At the first rumblings of trouble, though, Peter jerks to attention; and when alarmed shouts rise in a chorus, relief floods through him. He nudges Lanie and dredges up a tired but triumphant smile – I told you so – and she dredges up an unimpressed look, just for him.

Either Peter finds you, dear rescuer, or you find him carrying Lanie on his hip. In either case, he shoves the little girl with pink, freckle-like splotches on her skin, cocooned in his red leather jacket. ]

Get her the hell out of here.

phase iii: ballroom blitz;

[ Stubborn bastard that he is, Peter doesn't just bolt, like he probably should. Instead, he scoops up the fallen weapon of one of the cultists and goes to fucking town.

He's drained and he's hungry and he looks like hell. He's stumbling a little, limping a lot, and that stupid collar is still firmly in place around his throat. His face is bruised and his lips are split and scabbed over, and one of his eyes is swollen and painted a dark, ugly black. But more than anything, he's pissed, has the look of a man on a mission who will stop at nothing to see it done.

He stops whoever seems friendly – or, more accurately, appears to be on his side – and he speaks in clipped, urgent tones: ]

Guy with reddish-orange skin. Thin black hair. Face like Picasso painted him with a broken hand while tripping on LSD.

Seen him?

wildcard: hit me with your best shot;

( come at me bros. pm me or pp me at lampshading if you'd like to coordinate something specific! )

iii wassup he's here

[madeupnames]

[Spider-Man comes swinging into the scene, of course he does, because he owes Lanie like five tokens for the amusement park (probably way more now, a hell of a lot more). His suit is definitely a little dirty and mildly frayed, but he's in a hell of a lot better shape than poor Big Pete. Seeing the kid being handed toward him is like tunnel vision, and he feels kind of stupid when his voice cracks under the weight of exhaustion and overwhelmedness:]

Lanie!

[Lanie looks genuinely shocked at the sight of him — and lunges with sudden vigor, clamping herself on the front of Peter like a barnacle that will never be scraped off. Spider-Man is radiating relief from head to toe, because he just — he just wanted to find this damn kid, her mom is so worried, everyone's so worried — But then he snaps out of it and finally realizes that another person he'd been praying to find has materialized in front of him (he's always been there, Pete, you're just running a fever and you're tired).]

Big Pete, thank god!

[Lanie gets turned into the middle of a sandwich temporarily as Spider-Man huddles in and throws one of his free arms around Peter's neck. It's not a hug, see, because it's only one arm. Totally just one arm over the shoulder, because Peter is a sensitive kid, and he's just so fucking jazzed that you're not dead, and this is totally not weird, right? It's probably weird. He quickly disengages.]

I was looking everywhere, and...!

What the hell, man, we were gonna have a movie night. You totally wrecked my plans.

[That was a joke, he's trying to be funny. Please laugh it off with him.]

Inquisitor Iona Lavellan | Dragon Age Inquisition

[stumbledfromtheashes]

phase i.

Cultists. Why does it have to be bloody cultists.

Iona puts up a decent fight, but in the end is taken down, a collar snapped around her throat (and it’s so reminiscent of slavery and servitude and the sort of hell she’s seen too many elves suffer that it simultaneously sends righteous fury burning in her veins and terrifies her just a little; more so because once the collar clicks into place she can feel the Anchor die out, the green glow sputtering and dimming until it’s barely a flicker) and she’s dragged unceremoniously to join the rest that have been kidnapped by the cultists.

To serve as host bodies to the souls of people long dead. LOVEly.

Because this is what she needs so soon after waking from a coma.

She responds to her plight as she responds to most things. With a smart mouth and stubbornness. She does it to keep their attention on her, and off those who are less accustomed to shit such as this. Those who are scared and upset. Better their kidnappers keep their focus on her. And focus on her they do.

The violence they rain down upon her doesn’t stop her from doing it.

“You know, if this is the lot that the First People have working towards bring them back, I suspect they’re going to be heavily disappointed,’ she retorts, flinging her words in a cultist face with a smirk. “They probably wanted someone actually competent.”


phase iii.

The moment the rescue starts, Iona reacts, despite her injuries, despite lacking any sort of blade, flinging herself into the fray. Bruised and bleeding or not, she has rage enough to vent on the cultists. She may regret it later, once the dust has settles, but in the heat of the moment she doesn’t bloody care. At all.

Once the dust HAS settled, reaction finally settles in. She’s stretched thin, managing to remain on her feet through nothing but sheer determination, although she stumbles more often than she likes. More often than she will admit. But she refuses to collapse, wrapping her stubbornness around her like a bloody shield.

Sooner or later it will fail her, but until then she pushes on.

She’s not in the greatest shape; too little food, too little sleep, too little water, feet bare, face bruised and her lip split, one eye swollen and marred by a bruise so dark it’s almost black, and too many injuries more only slightly hidden by her tattered, bloodied sun dress.

With the collar still tight around her neck.

phase iii

[jolting]

Seemed like everyone was insisting on pushing themselves past their limits. Victor was no better in that regard, but he couldn't very well stand around watching other people do it without eventually stepping in. He never worked on an elf before, but after working with dwarfs and fairies, how hard could it be?

He decided to ease into it, though, as she did seem the type who might be a little stubborn even as beaten up as she looked.

"Mind if I help you with that?" Victor pointed to the collar. He'd seen the trick to taking it off by now.

Laura Howlett | Logan | OTA (warnings for violence against children wooooo)

[shoplifter]

phase i: the abducted | fuck you, one-armed mike

[She will be of sounder, albeit more panicked mind, on the first day. Maybe even the second. But it's clear there's gears winding in her head that are unraveling her bit by bit, for every moment she finds herself torn from freedom; she sits in any corner she can find, eyes untrusting as they dart from person to person. When someone familiar comes in, there's at least a flicker of something good — a quiet concern and trust, but it is certainly a hard plant to keep from wilting when the cultists come walking in after them.

People will find Laura has been there from the start of the non-native abductions — she had been taken the night of the eighth, alongside Poe, and though she knows she should be keeping track of the other exhausted and frightened children that had come before her, she can't find the mind to. The collar on her neck and rings on her wrists keep her depowered (extra defense, they had said, because she had cut off a man's hand, and another man was killed outright, stabbed in the head).

Her violence had cost her, the ire of those close to the two victims aimed strictly upon her head. And in fact, one of the victims is more than happy to revisit the child who had stolen one of his limbs away in the heat of the capture. "Hey," the guy with one arm spits, standing over her with the stump bandaged up, ugly and incomplete, "Remember me, little monster?" And then he kicks her, hauls her up, yells at her face.

And then she bites a chunk of his ear off.

He is perhaps a little mean about the whole affair. When people come across the girl after the abuse, they'll find a child who can not instantly heal, sporting a bloody nose and swollen jaw and an eye that doesn't completely open (and maybe a few bruised ribs that hurt to breathe around, but she is nothing if not good at tolerating such pains). But more than that, they will find that there's no immediate recognition in her eyes, glassy and unfocused in the throws of regression; when she's not curled up on her side, she snarls and screams and throws herself at whoever dare come close to her, instinct from eleven years of captivity as a weapon (a scared kid) taking over. People are dangerous, adults are dangerous, adults are cruel — and now to know she's back in a terrible group's grasp, being used for something she's not sure of, never sure of, and the other children are shaking and afraid—

And the cultists are ruthless, and they don't particularly care what age you are.

Especially when you have a high kill count prior.

So sorry if she leaves you with a few scratches; just don't let her go for your eyes. I'm sure she'll remember you somewhere after the third slap to your face. At least she's not super-powered anymore?

And she's not always all gone; sometimes, her eyes are clear and logical, as the battered kid silently watches the new arrivals come.]

phase i.2: the abducted | ways to make the adults guilty, in one easy step: the beginner's guide

[They know how to make the adult captives obey them.

It just takes a kick to a little boy nearby, a threat to hurt someone smaller and weaker. The kidnapped adults obey easier. And when someone lunges at the cultists to attempt escape? Well, Laura's one of the kids that can be used as proper motiviation, proper punishment. Anyone who acts up may find the kid dragged in front of them and threatened or knocked around for their efforts. Transigen had always had a knack for hurting people —

So her pain tolerance, at least, has never changed.

She grits her teeth and takes whatever is dished out, screaming curses in spanish.]

phase i.3: the abducted | nightmares

["Daddy."

The word tumbles out of her mouth as she sleeps, sweat on her brow; despite her exhaustion, sleep can be a particularly ugly thing, especially when in captivity. This kind of place, with this kind of pain, it brings out ugly memories that replay in one's head over and over, even with their eyes closed. She dreams she's holding her father's slack, cold hand — that he's laying in that same forest clearing, covered in blood, already gone.

And the cultists — dressed in lab coats and holding their filled needles — grab her from behind.

She screams and kicks and can't remember how to fight anymore, watching helplessly as they put her father into a black body bag. "This one will be good to keep; he has good DNA in him." In the holding area, she tosses and turns and wants nothing more than for Logan to burst through the trees and rescue her from the man with one arm.]

phase iii: the brawl and after | hostage situation, and etc.

[When all hell breaks loose, she's being dragged back towards the holding chambers by her arms. She thinks a bit foolishly that maybe it's her father. And then of course she has enough mind to remember the world outside, in Riverview — those same people who come in with the calvary after their careful plotting. But even with the most cautious of plans, sometimes there's a few little roadbumps. Like hostage children.

Bursting into the hall, any rescuers may find her being used as a potential meatshield, as a way for the two cultists to avoid any immediate blows; have fun navigating around two cowards who are more than happy to threaten a kid dangling weakly in their arms. Her head sits perfectly in the crease of one of their arms, pinched expression watching tiredly for what the rescuer plans to do.

She's hungry, tired, and beat up.

But she may be able to use her training to help get freed, with the right opening.

At the end of it all, she sits outside, her wounds healing slowly but surely before everyone's very eyes once the collar and wrist bracelets are removed. But she does not seem eager to speak to anyone, curled in on herself and unresponsive. It will get better with nudging and time — but there's surely some ugly steps taken backwards. It's easy to see in the way she keeps sliding her claws in and out of her knuckles, watching with a grimly blank expression as they withdraw and the entry wounds heal again.

Not a great sight, but one that can be improved with coaxing.]

phase iii; bonus god of mischief

[winscenario]

[ Thanks to Loki's illusions, he and Jim have managed to get a few people out without being noticed, but it's only so long before the cultists start to notice. Whether they realize that prisoners are starting to disappear, or other rescue groups aren't quite as subtle as the pair of them are, point is eventually the whole place is a disaster, and subtlety is a little out the window when the cultists are openly fighting the infiltrators.

It's no surprise to Jim that they'd use the captives to protect themselves. It is a surprise, however, when he takes a sharp turn and comes face to face with two cultists practically dragging Laura down the hallway.

It's not that she's a kid, mind. They did take Lucy too, after all. But the state she's in, bound and chained, weak and injured, practically a dead weight as they hold her up and use her as a shield... now, that sets him off almost instantly.

Even with the risk of getting Laura in the crossfire, Jim doesn't hesitate. He lifts up his phaser and starts shooting, aiming farther away from the group first, until one of the cultists steps far away enough for him to stun his ass. Then he points to the rest. ]

Let her go!

Breq | Imperial Radch

[breqintopieces]

PHASE III

a. The Fight

Be ready to move on the signal.

[Breq is speaking quietly from the narrow entrance to the tunnels she's crouched in. Her gun is in her hands, and her attention is directed entirely away from the other occupants of the tunnel, in favor of looking toward the compound where the cultists have set up.

She's waiting for the cultists' attention to be diverted, so they can sweep in from the sides and catch the cultists off-guard, hopefully pincering them in their main compound without letting any of them escape.

Every line of her frame is tense and on the alert. So when shouts and the sound of fighting start echoing out of the area up ahead, Breq is moving instantly, in a blur almost too quick for the human eye to follow.]

Now!

b. The Rescue

[It's chaos.

Battles always are. Breq is used to that, and she knows the best she can do for it is to be prepared. When the battle separates her from her group, she rolls with it, and keeps her focus. She's moving through the central chamber with appropriate caution. Gun first, paying attention to any scraps of sound, ready to shoot first and deal with the consequences later, if necessary.

There's some tiny whisper of sound from around the corner that has her whipping past it, gun pointed--

It takes her 0.2 seconds to evaluate. No robes, no hostility. Not a cultist but a civilian, stand down, stand down--

and she lifts her gun away from where it was trained on the person's head.]

Perimeter guard. Are you hurt?

c. The Aftermath

[It's not that she doesn't know she's hurt. Every step reminds Breq of the intense ache in her hip, the sharper pain of the injuries left on her in the fight. Her clothes are dust-covered and bloodstained in patches, and the rest of her isn't much better. But there's still things to do, and not enough people to do them, so she soldiers on.

Breq is making her way through one staging area turned temporary shelter. On her way to deal with more of the captured cultists, perhaps. She's moving with purpose along the outer edge of the cavern, back toward the maze of tunnels. Her face is blank of expression as she moves with purpose, ignoring the limp she's been developing as best she can.

It's that last part that really comes back to bite her.

Breq has no warning-- one moment she's walking, and the next she's falling, her right leg simply giving out underneath her.

There's an audible thud as she catches herself against the cavern wall with a forearm, one that nearly masks her hiss of pain at the impact.]

Wildcard

[OOC: Want a scene that isn't here? Message me for a starter, or feel free to reply with one. See the plotting post for an idea of what Breq will be up to during the attack.]

b

[scholiast]

(Lucretia's in a tired, haze of pain when she stumbles across Breq, so much so that she doesn't notice a gun hefted up toward her at all until it's lowered. She lifts a hand too slow, palm out to show she's unarmed. It's the arm with a bracer clamped on her wrist. Her other is pressed firm to her side.

She's too exhausted to look relieved right now; she gestures bluntly with her hand, showing Breq the cuff.)

Breq– can you get this off. Now. Please.

Spider-Man | MCU | OTA

[madeupnames]

phase ii: distraction and infiltration

[After nearly getting kidnapped earlier on and having to deal with being super sick after the collar was removed (thanks, cult), Peter had originally told those at the hospital that he was going to take it easy and not do anything stupid, get a bed and rest. But then he thought about the rescue mission and, um. Well. He paid a fellow teenager the rest of his weekly allowance to lay in his bed and pretend to be him sleeping. Sorry?

Anyway, whatever, he's not feeling 100% but he's good enough to do his job as a hero and member of the Perimeter Guard. He's here for whatever distraction needs are necessary, sure, but he's also got some pretty special edges in terms of avoiding most traps. Sticky hands and feet means he can crawl along the ceilings and carry anyone who needs carrying over the traps laid out. And more than that, he can get deep inside the holding areas, ready to lash out and battle when the go-ahead is given.

So if you're kidnapped and being dragged through a hallway, and you look up to see a Spider-Man crawling into the area over the guard's head? Do him a favor and don't blurt out that there's a guy on the ceiling? Thanks. Just be ready when he finds the perfect oppurtunity to jump down and pummel the bastard.]

phase iii: the brawl and after

[But hey, when all hell breaks loose, he's also good for that. Others rushing into the fight may find many cultists who are completely webbed to the wall and unable to grab for anything to use against them. This is Spider-Man's forte — capture, keeping things as undeadly as possible, making sure the battle leaves less room for casualities. He can be seen as a flash of red and blue and snark, and even if he's a bit wobbly on his feet he is not one to be deterred from his mission.

With great powers comes great responsibility. You know the drill.

"If it isn't the slippery little spider-boy." And hey, Peter knows this guy, who has decided to corner him in one of the larger rooms. This is the leader of the group that had tried to kidnap him, definitely, and Spider-Man turns with a flippant crackle of his neck, left and right.

"It's Spider-Man, actually. And you're not gonna get away with this." He points a finger, the whites of his eyes glaring. The bald cultist's hands crackle with electric energy that looks like it'd be considerably painful to interact with. Peter leaps into the fray and finds himself spending an easy breezy afternoon narrowly avoiding large globes of blinding light (oh yeah, that's magic stuff). He swings in a wide circle and ends up throwing a rather large altar thingy at the guy, pinning him to a wall with it before getting tazed out of the sky and crashlanding.

Oh, cool, there's more of them.

"No biggie, I could do this all day, yep."

He feels a tang of blood where he bit his lip and thinks, yeah, this is about right.

Eventually he will track down any kidnapped people he can, offering them a ride on his back up and out of the narrow passage of light that's shining up above; an opened up spot in the roof, courtesy of everyone rushing in for the rescue. It's easier to carry people out than to drag them all the way back through all the tunnels, right? Right.

Please everyone, be okay.

He practically swings into some of the holding areas, completely breathless, bless. And though he is trying to be funny, there's definitely a crack in his voice at the state of the people he finds.]

Hey, what's up, everyone.

Don't worry — I gotcha. Everything's gonna be okay.

[Some of the kidnapped he finds are limp and not remotely reactive, and it makes his young heart beat a lot more wildly when he's not sure if the person under his hands is gonna make it out of this.]

phase iii.2: the brawl and after

[Peter would like to think that he had been pretty prepared for some gruesome and awful things, but really, he knew he was in over his head the moment he'd left the hospital to come help. He'd stopped a man from stealing a plane full of expensive stuff, and he'd helped try to capture ex-Avengers in a pretty tame fight between friends, and between all that he'd certainly stopped muggings and murder-attempts and all sorts of fun things in his near-a-year on-goings as Spider-Man.

But this, this was a whole new level. People who were tormented, left without food or any way to really sleep comfortably, being used like objects for some stupid religious thing. It was easy to stick to hero-mode when he was fighting, but now that efforts are just getting people out of there and giving them medical aid, he finds himself roaming a little listlessly. This is way beyond anything he's done so far...

Eventually he ends up wandering around in his full uniform, a mute little girl named Lanie completely wrapped around the front of him like an octopus (and he owes Big Pete for taking care of her, he owes him so much for it, because Pete had been stressing about this kid for a week straight-). He just, you know. He checks in on everyone, asks if there's anything else they need, and manages to work around the girl who is clinging to his front to offer blankets and water bottles and whatever anyone may need. It's a bit of a funny sight until you remember the kid's terrified and just wants her heroes to protect her.

He can't bring himself to move when he finally does sit down on the ground, hair matted with sweat under the mask, body exhausted and demanding he go back to bed and sleep off his sickness. But he couldn't just leave. And Lanie's got her head buried in his shoulder, and he's been carrying her for an hour now and can't bring himself to stop carrying her, because what if something happens the moment he puts her down? So he just sits there patiently and holds her with breathes in and out his relief.]

iii.2

[jolting]

[It's impossible to miss that red, white and blue outfit. Victor's actually seen it around a little, mostly as a blur as the web-slinger goes around being friendly and in the neighborhood. After Storybrooke, he took sights like that in stride. Still, he watches as this costumed figure goes around checking on people.

So when the costumed person finally sits down, Victor goes to check in on the person and the little girl clinging to them. He gives his best pediatrician smile]

Hello. I'm Doctor Whale.

[Look, he's fine using his real name, but the people here have gone through some shit. The last thing he wants is to freak them out more. So if they don't already know who he really is, he's using the cursed name]

Have either of you been checked out by a medic yet?

Chase Collins | The Covenant

[bastardofipswich]

PHASE I: FUN TIMES IN CAPTIVITY
[ It's kind of embarrassing, how easily Chase was captured. For a big bad witch, he's far from invincible, and really, all it took was a well-timed distraction, and soon there was a freaking collar on him. And he knew right away, as soon as that thing was clasped on, what it'd done. He could feel it, in the way that the Power was suddenly cut off from him. The sense of loss, so overwhelming, stunned him into inaction. By the time he got his fight back, it was already too late. He was hauled off into captivity.

But even though he's off-balance and cut off from his greatest asset, Chase is still... Chase. So, he runs his mouth, laughing and cracking stupid taunts at his kidnappers, even when his fellow captives try to get him to shut up. It doesn't do him any favors-- now he's got the attention of some power-tripping douchebags who take extra pleasure in keeping him down-- but it's all Chase has got. It helps keep his mind off the fact that, without the Power, he feels small and powerless. Like... well, like a kid, at the mercy of a bunch of psychos.

Sometimes, though, that side of him shows. When he's quiet and trying to keep to himself, sitting, leaned back against a wall as he nurses fresh injuries and glowers at everyone around him. Yeah, Chase is scared. And he's helpless. And he's raging inside. The second he's free, he's going to burn all these motherfuckers alive. ]

PHASE III: THE WITCH IS BACK (brief mentions of spiders and addiction)
[ Note to self: figure out the name of the person who managed to get that freaking collar off of him, because boy does he owe them a gift basket or something. Like, yeah, sure, he's tired. He's sore. He's bruised to hell, dehydrated, hungry, and has a killer headache, but as soon as he feels his connection with his Power restored, Chase gets his second wind.

He's ready to fuck these cultists up. It's not that he's Chase Collins, big damn hero, no. He's just a pissed off witch, and this? This is revenge. And sure, a lot of the big bad kidnappers have been taken care of by the time some rescuer frees Chase from his collar, but there's not a chance in hell he's sitting back and letting them take out the rest without him.

Laughing-- giddy, and riding high on the Power-- Chase is doing as much damage as he can. Choking cultists with tendrils of magic, throwing them into walls, siccing swarms of spiders on a few particularly unlucky ones. (One in particular that he's been nursing a special grudge against for practically zeroing in on him during his captivity. Taunting him. Kicking him around. Yeah, Chase is really relishing the opportunity to make the guy scream.)

He's having a fucking blast.

And when it's over, and all that's left are the rescuers and his fellow captives, Chase is just buzzing with adrenaline. Magic really is the best high there is, and he's been without a fix for days. So yeah, maybe he's sore and looks like shit, but god, Chase feels great. Breathless with laughter, and in high spirits, he's practically skipping in the aftermath. He lets people check on him, and he in turns tries to check on others and help them out-- especially anyone he might've bonded with while imprisoned. ]

Phase I

[analienprince]

[Teddy can't even scold him for taunting their captors. He's been doing it -- mostly to draw the attention to himself so they have less time to focus on people that don't deserve to deal with being beaten. But it doesn't take him long to recognize that voice as someone he spoke with a week or so ago. Chase, was it?

And witch or not, he's as depowered as the rest of them... and in those quiet moments, he looks as scared.

During one of them, Teddy makes his way over to sit close to him, taking a look at him. He's bruised himself, blood and broken in ways he's not used to being. He's usually near invulnerable... and even when someone manages to hurt him, it heals in no time.

He lets out a sigh, tilting his head forward.]

... Hey. I think-- maybe we talked before? If not-- I'm Teddy. And I just came over because-- I don't know. You need someone to take a look at any of those bumps and bruises you've got?

Tony Stark | MCU

[buildsomething]

PHASE III
i. the brawl

[Tony is not supposed to be here. Tony has a very nice hospital room he is supposed to be semi-comfortably ensconced in while he deals with a pesky stab wound. But Sam had come, Sam had said people are missing, Steve is missing and hadn't even bothered to look surprised when Tony immediately got up to go find his armor.

He'd meant to hang back and provide support during the infiltration -- subtle is not a thing Iron Man does well and Tony knows it, especially with the barely-leashed energy currently vibrating under his skin -- but when everything goes to hell so does the last of Tony's restraint. It's not often he lets the full power of the armor loose, not with the sheer destructive potential in it, but people have been taken and Tony's not doing a great job of holding it back.

The last, careful part of his brain is at least keeping him from turning the worst of it on the actual cultists. Any of them that he sees might get taken down with slightly excessive force, but he's doing his best to stay non-lethal, repulsor blasts turned down at the last second. No, the bulk of Tony's attention is on the technology, the traps, even the walls. He's got a decent map of the labyrinth down here but absolutely no patience for it, so if there isn't a door where he wants it, he's just going to make one. He knows which walls will hold. Anything to get to the captured people faster.]

ii. the aftermath

[By the time everything winds down, Tony seems to have less of an idea what to do with himself. He still has too much adrenaline, needs to do something, but with no go place to put it, he finds himself hanging back around the area they've gathered all the injured and rescued people in. If you can catch his attention he'll give it, and probably be happy to do whatever is asked, but left to his own devices Tony just stands there watching everyone like they might suddenly vanish again.

The armor is covered in dust and at least one scorch mark, maybe a few dents, and Tony has either forgotten or is ignoring the fact that he started this whole thing injured. He's almost eerily still for the most part, to the point where you could be forgiven for forgetting that there's someone actually underneath all that metal. The sight is probably not all that reassuring. But he'll turn to look at anyone who approaches, the armor shifting just slightly.]

What do you need?

[Please give him something to do.]

iv. wildcard
[Want to do something else? Feel free or come poke me at talkincodes to plan.]

i

[glowfeelers]

[ Lost in the labyrinth and separated from anyone friendly, Mantis is alone when she happens to find herself in a hallway where one of the walls, well, suddenly decides to not exist anymore. She's not close enough to be in the line of fire, but it still startles her enough to raise a surprised shout from her, and to be hit with a few smaller pieces of debris from the exploding wall just as she turns to protect her front.

Mantis has no weapon, and she looks a little worse for wear after a few unfriendly encounters down here - but ultimately, she's still standing, and there are two of the cultists fast asleep (snoring, even), face down on the floor behind her.

She holds herself in a defensive stance, taking a step back, but quickly recognizes the armour that comes through as, ] Iron Man?

Harry Goodsir | The Terror (TV)

[bestsir]

phase 1a
After the cultists throw Goodsir into the Central Chamber—almost literally, shoving him so hard that his feet leave the ground and he falls hard—he manages to just push himself to his hands and knees, but can't go any further. His heart is racing, he's gulping for breath, and there are tears starting in his eyes. It's what people far in Goodsir's future would recognise as a panic attack, but to him, it's simply a breakdown.

phase 1b
After Goodsir has recovered from his panic, he spends his time tending to others—doing his best to treat their injuries and offering comfort where he can.

phase 3
During the fight, Goodsir stays on the sidelines, trying to keep people safe and dragging the injured to safety if needed. Afterward, he helps the other medics tend to the wounded—performing triage, administering first aid—and as long as he stays busy, he's fine. But once things start to quiet down, the trembling starts again, and someone might find him sitting shaking in a dark corner.

phase 3

[jolting]

Victor had been training a bit in fighting since the last outing into the labyrinth, but he still stayed out of the way as much as he could. It killed him to not be involved in that, but James was out there, and that settled his panicked mind a little. But he was doing much the same as Harry: keeping himself busy so he won't have time to really absorb what could have happened down there.

And a good distraction would be talking to a fellow medic. "You're still pretty new to the Quarantine, right? I've been here almost six months, so I'm starting to get to be familiar with faces."

Wanda Maximoff | MCU

[seeingscarlet]

Phase II
[There are certain abilities Wanda really hadn't wanted others to know about, but people have been taken (and are being hurt, possibly worse; she can feel that much) so all bets are off. If she has to get nasty to get to where the others are being held...so be it.

She's suited up and leaving a trail of entranced cultists behind her. It's easier and faster to just pull on one particular mental string and push them into a fugue state than fight them, and as badly as Wanda might want some kind of revenge she's learned her lesson since Sokovia. All that matters right now is getting the captives out safely.

But she won't turn a blind eye to other rescuers in need; she might dart behind a distracted cultist and knock them out or use her powers to slam them into the wall before they can hurt someone. You're welcome; nothing weird to see here.]

Phase III - A
[Of course, when it does turn into an all-out fight Wanda doesn't shy away from knocking some cultists around or ripping up chunks of fallen stone and hurling it at them. She's furious, eyes glowing red, and she's past caring just how much she hurts them.]

Behind you--!

[But Wanda's already decided the other person isn't reacting fast enough, so she closes her hand into a fist and gestures downwards sharply. The cultists hand holding their weapon follows with a sickening crunch that could only be bones breaking and they let out a howl of pain.

In the grand scheme of what she could have done to them, they're getting off easy.]

Phase III - B
[As formidable an opponent as Wanda might be with her powers, she's pretty much helpless without them. One of the suppressor devices pulses...and then suddenly all the scarlet energy winks out of existence. Wanda's eyes widen in fright and the cultist she's been fighting staggers to his feet with a malicious grin. 'You'll pay for that,' he snarls, lunging for her. Wanda swears and tries to dodge out of the way, but they've clearly got the upper hand on her. Help?]

Phase III - C
[Okay, she's not a doctor, but she brought some (woefully inadequate) supplies and she can float people out of here if she has to.]

Are you all right?

Wildcard
[Want something else? Go for it.]

iii.b

[wiccant]

( depowered, billy is as about as much use as wanda is. much like she is, he's very much team mage, casting spells from a distance to help out his team. to keep them up on his feet. physically, he's not much: a lanky teenager who goes to the gym, sure, but isn't. you know, a half-kree half-skrull hybrid built for taking damage.

but that doesn't stop him from lunging straight for the cultist when he goes for wanda, arms wrapping around his midsection and knocking them both down to the ground. billy's bloodied and bruised, lip split open and the left side of his face turning various shades of purple and green but he raises a bruised fist regardless, lips twisted into a snarl. )

I hate asshole bully cultists. And worse? I hate ones that go after my family!!

( he's had a really bad no good week, please excuse him while he wails on this guy for a little while, until knuckles break open and bleed, until the struggles under him stop. )

the tetherer ( original ) ota

[tetherer]

I.

[The Tetherer was not built for this.

They're small, and collared, and not made to fight. They're made for a quick escape, certainly, and have had to quickly Tether themself out of hairy situations before, but by the time the cultists saw they were using their power, the cultists hit them with a sleep dart and collared them.

And now they're here, hungry and exhausted and weak, trying their best to take care of others when they're hurt and getting mistreated in turn for their trouble. Without access to their Nature, they can do nothing to help. It's certainly humbling, if not entirely demoralizing.

They hold the hand of someone who's been recently beaten, trying to keep their face calm, but they're shaking as they run their thumb over knuckles.

While they've not been allowed to sleep, they've taken to spending the night praying. It's not something they normally do, being a god themself, but they know all the steps. They curl into a ball, pressing their eyes into their knees, and pray to their partner, murmuring the words to themself.]

Separate me, veiled Separator, grant me your grace and your strength, Separate me as you Separate land from sea, sky from earth, sun from moon.

[They repeat these words, again and again, throughout the night.]

III.

[The Tetherer can hardly walk, but they've made their way to safety with the help of the rescuers, and they grasp someone's arm.]

To get the sick and injured-- I need-- Please remove this collar, I need to make a Tether to-- to get them out.

[They're wavering on their legs, and they look completely dazed, not making eye contact, but they're stubborn enough to refuse any treatment until they can do this for the others.

They can transport people to safety, to care. They need to help.]

i

[scholiast]

(Even as the Tetherer curls into a ball beside her, they still hold Lucretia's hand lightly. Lucretia is vaguely aware of the contact; she's trying to rest, but keeps getting shaken awake by the awful pain in her shoulder. She's fairly sure her collarbone is broken. The Tetherer had been kind enough to offer comfort in wake of the delivered blow, but there's not a lot either of them can do about it. There are no doctors, and nobody can use their magic. The most Lucretia can do is keep her arm firmly by her side and as still as possible, trying to keep herself from being jostled.

The Tetherer's repeated murmur of pray is comforting background noise. She nods off for a half hour and when she wakes up again, they're still at it. She yawns, and winces, shifting a little to look at them.)

... Who are you praying to?

Jeff Calhoun | OC

[bardish]

PHASE I: CAPTIVITY
[ Seriously? They collared him? Come on, what's he gonna do? It's not like he can cast a single spell without music, and kidnapping doesn't exactly put one in a mood to make up a song. It's like, because he works at Gramarye, people just assume he's a totally kickass wizard, instead of what he actually is: a burnt out ex-bard who's more inclined to try to talk things out than work any magic.

But, for all his indignation (not to mention the sheer, overwhelming terror of the situation) Jeff's glad about one thing: at least the kid they were going for got away. He may have gotten captured in her place-- which is so far from ideal!-- but he distracted them enough for her to run. So... he helped one person. That's a net positive.

And that's what he has to remind himself, over and over again, the longer he's here, trapped in this creepy chamber with the rest of the captives. It's the mantra he repeats in his head, whenever he gets kicked around by the cultists for protesting when they hurt somebody else (though, apparently, "Hey, man, come on!" isn't a particularly effective protest), or for just, like, existing at all.

The problem is, it gets a little harder to keep that in mind when he realizes what the cult's endgame is. Possession. Talk about an issue that raises up all kinds of truly fucked up memories for him.

At various points in his captivity, Jeff's only barely keeping it together. But, for the most part, he tries to stay strong and as grounded as he can, if only because there's a lot of others here who've been beaten worse than him, or who are younger and way more openly terrified than he is. There's not a whole lot he can do, for himself or anybody else, but he finds that as long as he keeps his attention on others, he can keep procrastinating when it comes to dealing with his own looming panic attack.

So, Jeff will pretty much spend his time focusing on others, whether it's chatting with them (distracting conversations or otherwise), being a shoulder to cry on, or just killing time playing really tense games of Twenty Questions. Hang out with him! Just don't ask why he's so determined to keep smiling in spite of everything. ]

PHASE III: AFTERMATH
[ Let's be honest: Jeff's almost entirely useless when shit hits the fan. He's not a fighter, or a tactician, or like, anything. Plus, there's the aforementioned collar, and the sleep deprivation, and the everything else, so all he can really do when the cavalry comes charging in is try not to get caught in any crossfire, and try to keep fellow captives safe.

The thing is, when it's all over, and the dust's settled, and he should be feeling a cathartic rush of relief... That's when that panic he'd been desperately keeping at bay finally sinks in. Ahhhh shit. He's gonna lose it.

Leaning against a wall, he tips his head back against the cool stone, looking up at the chamber's ceiling. He should be helping people out. He should be getting the fuck out, himself. Instead, all he can do is drag his hands through his hair, and try to breathe steadily. In. Out. In... ]

Fuck!

[ Okay, maybe abruptly shouting expletives isn't particularly constructive right now. Want to help a guy out? ]

phase iii

[jolting]

[Well, yes. Yes he does want to help you out, guy. And shouting an expletive is a good way to get attention. Victor comes over with medical bag in tow]

Hey, buddy. How about you have a seat, okay? It's been a long day for everyone.

Jyushimatsu Matsuno | Osomatsu-san

[yakyuuman]

phase ii. the infiltration;

[ Jyushimatsu is not that inclined to think up strategies when he's not playing a game of mahjong. It's not because he almost never uses his brain and acts solely on instinct for the sake of unrestrained fun, but right now there is no space in his mind for planning and mumbling when Osomatsu and Ichimatsu are probably suffering at the hands of those asshole cultists. He's a man of pure action, using his body as a whole to get things done, and if his bloodshot eyes are of any indication he's practically itching to get his hands on the shitheads who swept his brothers from under his and Karamatsu's noses.

It would be nice to think he's following the group of brave heroes into this mission as a good hearted wish to free the poor citizens held hostage by the cultists, but he's by no means a selfless person. The safety of his family is the only thing running through his head at this moment. He and his five brothers have gone through so much, fought each other an unholy amount of times, beat each other into unrecognizable pulp, ruined each other's chances to get out of their NEETdom life. And yet, those shitty siblings are still his family, and you don't fucking touch his family if you're not ready to receive harsh consequences.

He stole two wooden bats from the baseball stadium and planted nails on them, aiming to hurt the enemies as much as he can without necessarily killing them, even though the temptation to do so tingles him oh so dangerously.

No matter what Karamatsu has decided to do, Jyushimatsu will be among those tasked to infiltrate the place. The urge to act alone is there and nagging at him, but his mind is not warped enough to not understand that they need to carefully stick with the plan. Fortunately for the others, he's malleable when it comes to taking orders; he's aware that his teammates are more knowledgeable than he is, so he will follow obediently. But if a cultist pops on sight, there's no guarantee he won't jump at the chance. Handle this beast with caution, guys. ]

phase iii A. the brawl;

[ It's like he can no longer control his body when he fights.

A glance towards his captive brothers was enough to pop the lid and throw any drop of lucidity left in him to the bushes. Those cultists may have the advantage with their superpowers, but Jyushimatsu got into fights throughout his life, since he was a child and his brothers were one single item with him. He knows where to strike if he wants to knock a guy out, and his stamina levels are pretty high considering he trained nonstop for years. He can take quite a bit of damage before he goes down. Don't underestimate a NEET with a lot of time on his hands.

He'd still need some assistance, however, and whenever he's in a pinch he'll trust his teammates to help him out of it somehow. ]

phase iii B. the aftermath;

[ When the whirlwind of events calms down and the hostages are being escorted to safety, Jyushimatsu is almost entirely covered in blood, half of which is not his own. His bats have also been destroyed during the conflict. Regardless of that, the smile that once looked threatening on his face has relaxed and he looks as happy as ever, checking on his brothers first and foremost and fussing over any injury they might have sustained - as if he hasn't been roughed up worse than them. Things are still not okay, but the fact Osomatsu and Ichimatsu are now within his range is still great enough for him.

He's available amongst the crowd some time later, rescuers and ex-abductees aline, but especially for those who might want to run a check-up on him. His head is literally dripping blood due to multiple blunt traumas, and he's got scratches and burns on his face and all over the rest of his body. He really didn't hold back, but even so, his smile is larger than ever now that the worst is over and done with! ]

phase iv. the wildcard;

[ If there's anything unrelated to the prompts you'd like to play out with me, please let me know! My plurk gaiamemories is open for anything and anyone! ]

phase iii, A

[hellshot]

[He's never had any time for cultists. People following a blind goal, hiveminded individuals with no real care for life--even while he was alive he couldn't damn well stand them.

So it wouldn't come to any surprise that when he found out that the very minute list of individuals he actually gave a damn about had gone missing? He'd gone years in space now without breaking out into violence.

Really, he should be congratulated.
He still hadn't seen hide nor hair of the same-faced brothers he was looking for, but when the barrel of his gun comes face-to-face with the savage expression that Jyushimatsu holds, the smoking, ethereal-looking masked man takes pause.

Three, he can remember. They're all the same, but somehow different.

This one...]

...You're going to run yourself out of gas like that, brat. [He doesn't recognize this one.]
But maybe it should also be thought that going so long without true combat would make the hand of Death rusty. Should. But little could be said in that way with how Reyes' guns easily rip through any who might attempt to throw themselves in his way.

keira metz | ota, will match format

[luxurist]

phase iii | a: distressing damsel

[ Make love, not war might be more along the lines of Keira's motto on any regular day, but this obviously doesn't count as such. She has little sympathy for kidnapper cultists; even less so for ones with such abhorrent devices as the power suppressors. So, Keira is all for showing these cultist bastards what a trained sorceress can do. Bathed in faint bluish glow, the petite blonde gathers her magic around her and unleashes it on the cultists with extreme prejudice.

With a sweeping upward motion of her hand, she effortlessly levitates several rocks from the ground the size of football -- and flings them at a wave of attackers at high velocity, the rocky projectiles smashing into the cultists with rather sickening thuds and cutting them down. Or perhaps you can hear her gleeful laughter ringing out amidst the noises of battle, tauting the cultists even as she blasts another one with a crackling lighting bolt. "Don't make me laugh!" Teleporting in a flash of that blue-white light, she pops here and there across the battle field to aid her fellow fighters with well-aimed lightning bolts and levitation spells.

Toward the end of the battle, Keira chants words in an incomprehensible language and in a coup de grace, sweeps both arms down and up again, as if scooping out an armful of air -- levitating five cultists off the ground with the movement. They rise higher and higher in the air as she extends her arms over her head... and then swipes them back down in a quick slashing motion, with a shout. Her magic explodes around the helplessly floating cultists in a bursting cloud of blue energy that flings them away like ragdolls, some slamming into the rocky walls of the cave and others simply falling to the ground. ]

Ha! Still got it, [ she grins, self-satisfied. ]


phase iii | b: damsel in distress?

[ ...Alas, using this much Power for a prolonged period takes its toll on the body and mind both-- and maybe that last levitation was needlessly showy, not that she's ever admitting that. Keira staggers on her feet as if drunk, breathing slightly heavily and feeling a little lightheaded. ]

Oh. Got it maybe a little too much. [ The back of her hand finds her forehead as she closes her eyes. Just a minute of rest, that's all she needs. She'll be fine in a second. She doesn't realize herself that her body is slowly tipping backward into a swoon, completely sapped of energy. Someone catch her before she crashes to the ground? ]


phase iii | c: the aftermath

[ When all's said and done and the dust has settled, it's time to turn their attention to the wounded. And there seem to be plenty of them around. Some are in no shape to leave this dank cavern before their injuries have been seen to. Keira might not always be the most charitable of souls, but she sees no reason to deny her aid when so many are in need of it, and there are a limited number of doctors and medics available.

So, after a brief rest post-battle, she gravitates toward the area where a makeshift triage seems to have been set up, joining the other medically minded individuals to offer her services. She eyes the people waiting to be seen, wading into the crowd and acting too way cheerful as she claps her hands together for attention. ]

Next in line? Come now, don't be shy. [ She beelines toward the first injured person to make eye contact with her. LUCKY YOU. ] Two questions: not opposed to some magical healing? In case the answer is no, where does it hurt the most?


phase iv. wildcard!

[ anything else you'd like to tackle? hmu over at ebsolutely or the cr meme! ]

iii.b

[seeingscarlet]

Be careful-- [Nope, too late; the other woman's going over. Wanda extends a hand and wisps of scarlet energy catch Keira and keep her from tipping over any further.]

Are you all right? Are you hurt?

finn | star wars | ota

[bythehand]

phase ii.

[ Finn, filing in along with the RR-1 team for infiltration, is extremely glad that this has come to a point where going in and saving people is the plan of action. Maybe some of it boils down to being glad that there's finally something he can actively do to contribute and fix the situation, and it's pretty directly tied in with the skill set he knows best. He's very good at what he does. Looks like it pays off.

He is absolutely not gonna think about what they're supposed to do if a) not everyone they're looking for is actually here or b) if they're all here but they're not all... alive. He really can't afford to do thinking right now.

So yes, Finn's not exactly on this mission with small-talk on the brain. He's here to be methodical, efficient, mindful of his surroundings, and highkey watching the backs of whoever he's working alongside. Sort of a no chill and a lot of fucks to give situation.

More amenable to conversation pre-deployment, pretty intently tunnel-vision for the duration. ]


phase iii.

[ IF YOU'RE IN THE MARKET FOR A RESCUE... Finn is here rescuing. And as established, he's dealing in a lot of very specific, intense focus during the process. That's the price you have to pay as a cultist when you raid his CR chart like a pantry, pretty much.

Rules of engagement are pretty simple: if a cultist surrenders, restrain them or knock them out, if they bring a weapon to the party, put them down. He can manage. The safety of captives takes top priority, up to and including escorting transports in and out of the place. Business first, party later, a Star Wars story.

That said, in the aftermath he has a laundry list of people he would very much like to check up on, and he fully intends to make his rounds. He's been back on his highest-strung highest-tension bullshit all month, and he's got wellness checks on the brain. You know, if he hasn't gotten his laundry list of relieved hugs out of the way during the rescue. ]

[ ii ]

[sentiences]

[ Dorian would like to escape. But for one . . . they took his leg. And parts of his arm. So for the most part, he has propped himself up and encouraged the infiltrators to take other people first. After all, if the kidnappers get mad at him . . . it's not like it'll hurt. Pain isn't really a function for a robot to have.

So Dorian jauntily waves at Finn as he sneaks in. ]

elizabeth weir | stargate atlantis | ota

[justbeginning]

phase i.

[ Putting aside the fear and confusion that comes hand-in-hand with the abduction, to say nothing for the chaos, when the dust settles and she's been dropped in place alongside the other captives, Elizabeth is more livid than anything. Like sure, she headbutted a cultist before they got her officially wrangled. This is a whole other ball game.

It's the quiet sort, anger that simmers more than it explodes. She's no scientist and she's no soldier, but she reads people fairly well and she's always had a knack for commanding attention. In a lot of these cases, she thinks, better that that attention falls on her than someone more openly frightened or more physically worn down. Or younger. And the current majority consensus seems to be that captives are needed alive, so.

Elizabeth has no qualms about maybe, occasionally (definitely, more than once), going out of her way to imply that these people are either unworthy of being host bodies for these First People, or they're cowards (maybe both) without ever outright... saying it. She has chill, but no fucks to give.

Which is all well and good right up to the point where anyone but her catches the short end of the consequences stick. Once that threshold gets crossed, she can't keep on the vocal prisoner train in any good conscience. She defaults to trying to be a source of some kind of stability and reason.

She can always manage calm. Not that a lot of people aren't managing calm once they get so far into barely-fed and sleep deprived territory.

In a really weird, tangential way, this turn to shitty luck is sort of true to the spirit of things back home. ]

phase iii.

[ And then come the obligatory rescue and post-rescue options! She's what the kids call a good rescuee and what the other kids call a very bad patient once she's been moved out.

Because consider: the vital nature of finding everyone she spent the past however long huddled together with in a big chamber. She's got this and she's fine and it's fine and she just wants to know people are okay. LET THE WOMAN HOBBLE.

Elizabeth will in fact be wrangled eventually. Woman cannot live by spite alone. In this specific case, I mean. ]

hewwo

[valr]

[Kara isn't necessarily here for Elizabeth, but she's here to help and when she spots the woman it isn't any skin off her nose to give her an assist. Especially not when one of the kidnappers seems to be making a beeline towards Elizabeth.

There's not quite room to swoop around in here, so Kara simply runs forward to put herself between the two. The kidnapper shoots some kind of electricity at her, but Kara just shakes it off with a little laugh. There's a split second where the man seems to realize he's thoroughly fucked, only brief, because then he's busy looking down at the sword sticking out of his sternum. He makes a sound like he's choking, before he falls.

Kara pulls the sword out, wipes it off on her already bloody jeans, then turns to Elizabeth.]

You okay?

Ronan Lynch | The Raven Cycle

[somnioergosum]

[Can switch to brackets.]

phase ii. distraction

Ronan would have preferred to go in with some kind of knowledge of what exactly they worshipped. But realistically, even if he knew every detail, he no longer had the control to perfectly replicate it. Which was why he brought out his old friend, the night horror.

This one was an albino, the better to stand out at night. It looked more bird and less human than usual, the two arms it had in addition to the wings looked like it belonged to a komodo dragon instead of a man. It turned its head this way and that, clattering its two beaks together. It curled one claw around Ronan’s shoulder.

Tck. Tck. T--

Every muscle in Ronan’s body tensed. After a second, when he realized the gesture was one of protection, he shrugged the tall beast off. “Knock it off,” he whispered.

The night horror fell silent and slid onto the ground.

“Go bother them.” He nudged its tail with his foot.

The night horror screeched and Ronan instinctively covered his ears. With no further instruction, the night horror charged toward the Central Chamber. And it would not stop screaming.

“Christ!” Ronan instinctively started to follow it, suddenly realizing that yes, his night horror was probably going to get itself killed. Then he remembered his promise to stay out of the way. “Hey,” he tuned to the closest person next to him. “What do you have that’ll distract from a distraction?”

phase iv. wildcard

[Let me know if you want anything else. Ronan's doing his best to stay out of the actual fighting but can easily fail because he is Ronan.]

[11calls]

Alex had seen a fair amount of shit during her tenure working on the black tapes. For the most part, the supernatural aspects had only been visuals left on tape or in the form of symbols and it was something that she was eternally grateful for. When the things weren't there on tape, they were in her nightmares, all too tall with arms that were too long and with faces that were familiar or not, but they were always, always, always upside down. Faces being upside down was the sort of calling card of the Order of the Ceonophus, so she was used to them.

But what she was not used to was seeing something similar in the flesh. Or... not flesh, she supposed. It was different enough that it hadn't come from her normal dreams, but she was reminded of the Helevition, if that demon happened to be white. Swallowing around the fear that was threatening to force up the scant amount of food and water that she'd been allotted in the days that she'd been here, Alex forced herself to focus once more on the larger problem at hand: the kid who's (demon? not!demon?) was supposed to be a distraction, and here she was against the wall talking to him about how he needed a distraction for it.

Taking a deep breath, Alex just looked around once more before she leaned down and took off the flat on her shoe. Normally, she'd have something like a whole bag of tricks, but at the moment, the only thing she had was this. Keeping her voice low, she just asked: "If we try to get it to focus on you, would it come back?" And the whole time Alex was silently begging anything and everything that happened to be listening Please let it be a pet, please let it be a pet, please let it be a pet!

jim kirk ▹▹ open!

[winscenario]

▹▹ PHASE II

[ Jim's not often given to subtlety, but he's no stranger to covert missions. Sneaking around the USS Vengeance comes to mind, for one. It's a good thing he's not alone either, because as he and Loki make their way further into the compound, he realizes he wouldn't manage to get nearly halfway in if it weren't for the god's illusions and trickery.

Comes in handy. He still gets nervous when there's a close call, but while other people outside offer all sorts of distractions, the cultists don't seem to be too worried that there are already infiltrators among them.

It works to their advantage. When Jim gets to the main chamber, there are either very few or no cultists whatsoever, having left to assist the others. He and Loki part ways every so often, and Jim approaches anyone who's nearby and looks more tired and beat up than the rest— or anyone he recognizes immediately. Crouching next to them, he cups their face. ] Hey. Hey— can you hear me?

▹▹ PHASE III

[ He and Loki manage to get quite a few people out before all hell breaks loose. Jim doesn't really realize when it happens, but probably one or more of the captors noticed that there were people sneaking around and freeing others. Surprise led to panic, which in turn led to chaos, and that's how they find themselves in the midst of a brawl.

Jim doesn't pull any punches. He's just mad enough that he really doesn't care about holding back. If one of the captors comes at him, he'll sock them right in the face (bonus points if he actually breaks a nose or a jaw), and if they aim a gun at him, then he's shooting them down where they stand. After what he's seen here, what they were doing to these people— to kids? Yeah, all bets are off.

In the aftermath, with all the surviving cultists already rounded up, Jim makes the rounds through the freed captives and the other rescuers, checking in on anyone who doesn't look so good. He'll offer to help clean up and dress wounds, or assist any doctor that may be doing something more complicated than that. ]

phase iii

[jolting]

[Victor has been quite the busy doctor in the aftermath of the cult fight. Passing out water to everyone, disinfecting wounds and stitching people up, even just stopping to offer some calming words as the situation demands it. He stays the longest with those who were kidnapped, making absolutely sure he's done everything his medical knowledge can do for them and then some before moving on.

It's actually James who finds him first, since James is the one assisting the doctors. Victor gives him a smile and a water bottle]

You manage to sit down for more than a minute yet?

[He says it in the most loving way possible. He's just as guilty of running all over the place since this all started]

taako ☂️ ota

[spellslots]

phase i; a

[Here's the thing: Taako isn't worried.

Sure, he's stuck in the creepy underground tunnels and there's a strange band on his wrist covered in symbols that seem to be blocking his ability to use magic, but Lup isn't caught. And as long as Lup isn't caught, there's nothing to worry about.

So he's in relatively good spirits, all things considered, even though things are a little dire.]

Hey, hey, my dude. [But here's the other thing: he's not stupid. One of the guard steps into the cell and he's learned fairly quickly how this goes. They drag someone out to make an example of them, usually one of the kids, and Taako isn't really down with that. So as soon as the door opens he's trying to get the guards attention.] Do you have the number for room service? I wanna get a couple pizzas up in here, maybe a few extra pillows, you know? [The guard snaps at him to shut up, reaching for him, but Taako lightly dances back out of the way.] You thugs didn't even give us one to share and I'm guessing your plan is to keep us here a couple days at least so like maybe you oughta think about improving the service. Not that I'm trying to tell you how to run your joint, no one needs a backseat kidnapper, but uh, uh--

[He cuts off because he certainly has the guard's attention now. And that was the goal, sure, but he doesn't actually want any kind of physical violence happening at all.]

I'm just saying, your First People aren't gonna be super happy with a bunch of hosts with broken bones, huh? Like - are they gonna be real pleased with you if their first couple hours involve getting to a hospital cause of internal bleeding? Doesn't sound like my kinda fun.

[The guard actually seems to consider this, but Taako wouldn't turn down some back up right about now.]

phase i; b

[Most of the time, though, Taako keeps himself relatively quiet and relatively tucked away. Sleep gets interrupted regularly but he's an elf and that makes sleep a hell of a lot easier; it looks as though he's meditating, sitting cross legged with his back against a wall and his eyes closed, and he's.... vaguely aware of his surroundings. Just don't sneak up on him.

Elves aren't any different than humans when it comes to food, but while the last couple of years have been cushy, Taako's used to going hungry. Five years on the run and a childhood on the road means that food was never the easiest thing to come by, so he can handle it. If anyone looks like they're struggling with the lack of food, he'll carefully pass something over to them, when no one's looking.]

I'm good, you take it.

[The only thing he's less pleased about is that without his magic, he can't keep up his illusion. Anyone familiar might notice that he looks a little off, a little less beautiful, but maybe it's just the exhaustion and the lack of food. Or a result of getting a bit knocked around in the initial scuffle when he was taken. That's all.]

phase iii

[Loki turns up and for a brief second Taako is tempted to take the offer to just bail on this whole thing, but he's had enough of these assholes and wouldn't mind getting a little revenge. So he asks Loki to take off the cuff before sending him off to get someone who actually wants to leave.

And then he waits.

Without the umbra staff he should be careful but fuck that, honestly. As soon as shit pops off he's ready to throw a few spells at anyone who was responsible for locking them up in here. He sticks to transmutation spells, just to keep the risk low, but that still leaves him plenty to play with.

At one point, one of the kidnappers run towards him and he just holds a hand out, watching coolly as they turn to stone mid-stride.]

Someone wanna knock this thug over?

[After that, it's time for the big guns.

Anyone in a sticky spot will find themselves rescued by what appears to be a honest to god t-rex, happily snapping up kidnappers or batting them aside with a large tail. He's just here to fuck shit up.]

[ phase iii ]

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki had taken one look at Taako and was ready to march him out of there, if Taako hadn't reminded him that, yes, other people exist. He huffs, the first inkling of his mood before he acquiesces without a fight. Once they were out, Loki checks Taako over critically. It is not his usual fretting, mostly subdued, but it passes the test. ]

Is there anything else you need?

Alex Reagan | The Black Tapes Podcast

[11calls]

Phase IA-Open

[When Alex Reagan woke, it was to the smell of blood and sharp pains reminding her that what had happened when she was taken really had happened. Letting out a sharp sound of pain when she shifted into a sitting position, Alex followed it with a groan before she moved her fingers to the corner of her hairline, feeling the blood there that had long since dried. If she was out for as long as she thought she was, Alex was pretty sure she had a concussion, and her brain certainly felt like it was scrambled.

Trying to sigh was an exercise in pain as well, and Alex caught the hem of her shirt and pulled it up, a bit and looked at her side. There, in livid purple was the boot print of a large man who had kicked her with a fair amount of force. Taking a few experimental breaths, Alex decided that her ribs were bruised rather than broken, because while it hurt to breathe, she didn't feel like she was drowning.

Putting that aside, Alex looked around the dim room, her eyes adjusting more slowly than she would have liked. Swallowing around her dry tongue, she just looked at the person next to her and asked in a low whisper:] Hey. Are you okay?

Phase IB-Open

[Alex Reagan hated bullies, and she hated feeling helpless. Sitting here and waiting made her feel both vividly and she hated it. Fury was welling up in her as she tried to figure out what the hell the cultists were actually going to do with them (And why was it always cultists anyway?! Jesus couldn't it not be for once?!). Sleep deprivation was something that she was deeply and intimately conscious of, having not slept for the better part of two years, and though she was getting more sleep here it still wasn't enough to change the patterns of being awake. Of course right now it was sans coffee, but the fear and the environment made up for that.

Of course, the cruelty of their captors helped with that, and Alex wasn't having it. She'd stood up to the scariest person in her world when he'd threatened her, and she was going to do that here. When one of the cultists went after someone near her, Alex quickly (but a bit unsteadily) moved onto her feet, squaring her shoulders and pulling herself up to her to her tiny height.

There was command and demand in her voice as she grabbed someone and pulled them behind her, her eyes blazing as she stared at the cultist in front of her.]

Leave them alone! Haven't they been through enough?! You guys have no idea what the hell you're doing, but our friends aren't going to stand for this!

Phase II-Closed to Billy.

[As soon as the first sounds of fighting among the captives reached her ears, Alex quietly stood up, making herself as small as possible as she made her way over to Billy's side. She wasn't that much of a fighter, and she knew that she would have been in the way if she got into the middle of the brawl, but this she could do. When she reached Billy's side, Alex spoke softly, putting a reassuring hand on his arm.]

It's me. Are you ready?

[Alex was getting Billy far enough away from the suppression fields to make the call that would hopefully bring in the cavalry, and she was going to do it or die trying. More than once she'd told people that acting wasn't her thing, and Alex didn't really need to be doing much of it right now. Instead, she let the fear she was feeling flood into her face and her eyes, and she wrapped one arm around him for support and to carry him or shield him if she needed to.]

Phase III- Open

[Alex had mostly stayed out of the fighting as much as she could, instead moving to help the wounded get out of the way and stay out of the way as things erupted around them. Of course, in a battle like this one, it was impossible to come out unscathed, so when the fighting ended, Alex had a fat lip, and what would be a spectacular black eye, but thankfully her glasses hadn't broken. Tomorrow she'd be bruised and sore and starving, but at least right now there was going to be a tomorrow.

When the dust settled, Alex moved unsteadily to her feet, keeping one hand on the wall of the cave for support as she moved towards the exit. While she was passing one of the cultists, she realized that it was one of the one who kidnapped her, and the reason that she was currently sporting purple and yellow bruises on her hips. So, without thinking about it, she just kicked him while he was down and muttered:]

How do you like it, asshole? I told you you were going to regret this.

Phase III-Closed to Richard.

[If there was one thing that Alex had been entirely certain of the entire time that she'd been held prisoner, it was that they were going to be found before the cultists could do whatever they were going to do. People, good people had already been investigating before she had even gotten involved, and whatever else, the people in Riverview were smart, strong and capable. This wasn't going to go the way the cultists thought.

But more than that, Alex knew that Richard would find her, that he wouldn't stop looking until he did. She'd had over twenty years of evidence of what Strand would do in order to find someone he loved, and Alex also knew that Strand knew that Alex would have never just leave like Coralee did. She hoped that he'd gotten the tape, and that it'd helped even if she'd jokingly put the sticker on the recorder when it had showed back up.

Letting out a shaky breath when she saw him finally, Alex released her hold on the wall and moved towards him, not quite running as she had the first time she'd seen him, but close enough to it as her body would allow at the moment. She certainly looked more than a little bit worse for the wear, but the smile of relief that went along with saying his name was enough to make up for it.]

Richard. I knew you'd come.

IB

[bestsir]

Goodsir had been trying to bind up a young man's broken arm when one of the cultists apparently took issue with that. The man grabbed Goodsir roughly by the collar, dragged him to his feet, and screamed something incoherent about bodily vessels and purification through pain. And then he punched Goodsir in the stomach.

Doubled over and winded, he didn't see Alex at all until she'd put herself between the cultist and himself. Oh—no—he's going to attack her now—

He tried to straighten himself up and take his place by her side; he wasn't sure he'd be any good if matters escalated, but he wasn't going to let Alex take the beating that was meant for him without—well, without a fight.

Lola Pacini

[threatenwithcuteness]

Phase I - OTA

Lola had known about the people going missing but there wasn't any way for her to keep the Cantina running without occasionally taking a late shift. On top of that, she couldn't just demand one of her friends take time out of their busy schedules to just cart her home. Her bike could maybe hold one other person. Of course, she didn't get from the Cantina to the bike when she got grabbed.

And once she was jumped, there wasn't a lot she could do but scream. And it was over too fast for that to make much difference.

She was tired. She was hungry. She wanted a shower and a spa day to wash all of this away and make the memory of being locked up and treated like garbage go away. The only good thing was- nope, no good things.

This sucked. She was scared and there wasn't much she could do, especially when everyone else with powers wasn't able to do much either. Her hair was snowy white because she just didn't have the energy to care about keeping herself looking herself. Not right now.

Phase II - OTA

There was, however, one oversight made by her captors. They assumed her only ability was her hair. It was flighty and silly but it wasn't much good in a fight. If that was her only ability what could she even do to help people try to make an escape attempt.

If that was her only ability.

Lola, however, if she focused, should transfer a little bit of herself to someone else. It made wounds heal faster, cleaned a person up a little. It gave them the feeling of a nice nap, undid some of the damage of how criminally underfed everyone was. But probably biggest of all, was that stablizing feeling, the little notion that 'you're not alone. You aren't doing this alone.' Which, from people not named Jason, was generally a very soothing notion. Lola wished she got to feel it.

Of course, Lola's not able to do this to herself, so she is a very squishy battery (that is sadly undercharged because feeding prisoners is just common courtesy!) so it might be benefitial for someone to mind her as things start to heat up.

Misty Day | OTA (cw: reference to mind control)

[mistyday]

phase i
[Misty was certainly not an easy one to catch. Oh, she looked like she would be, a dreamy hippie girl lost in her music, but the first cultist to lunge for her finds themselves flung violently across the street, her anger and fear lending unaccustomed strength to her telekinesis. Her other attackers hardly fare any better - by the time they drag her, kicking and screaming, into the Central Chamber, they’re all covered in scratches and bruises and one, straggling behind the others, has no apparent injuries, save for a dazed, lost look in their eyes.

Unfortunately, Misty looks even worse, with one eye swollen shut and a limp in her step. For all her fighting spirit, she’s just one person, her magic not honed enough yet to take on so many, so they eventually succeeded in binding her hands together with power suppression cuffs. One of the cultists shoves so that she falls forward in front of the other captives. This one doesn’t eat. Not after what she did.

They turn, leaving her there on the ground. Only the dazed one stays, staring vacantly until one of their comrades takes charge of them, leading them out of the chamber. As they walk off, Misty struggles to her knees and screams after them:]

You’ll all burn in Hell, every single one of you!

[The truth is, Misty is scared shitless. It’s all too familiar of a position for her to be in, to be hunted and trapped and slated for death. Only now, it’s even worse than before - at least then she had the certainty of resurrection, of an escape, however gruesome a one it might be. The only comfort here is that she’s not alone.]

i

[scholiast]

(The moment the guards leave again, Lucretia drops down beside the stranger to offer some help. Her hands have been locked tightly behind her with cuffs; she takes a quick moment to compare them to the singular one on her own wrist. They're the same. This person has had her magic forcibly drained from her, too.)

Are you alright?

Zelda | Breath of the Wild

[hylights]

i.a

[This isn't the first time Zelda's been held captive within a crumbling old building. She hates that this is where her mind goes so often, because it isn't the same. Not at all. Being sealed within Ganon, without form, only a roving ephemeral presence around Hyrule Castle wasn't the same thing as the very real aches and pains she feels here. No, it isn't the same.

Still.

Zelda is a mostly quiet presence among the abductees, spending a lot of time sitting with her back against the wall, her broken wrist cradled against her chest. She isn't used to injuries like this. Every so often her breath catches in her throat as she tries to reach for her magic, only to find nothing, nothing at all. The collar against her neck sees to that. Her magic may have been fading ever since the end of the Calamity, but for it to be so suddenly gone -- it frightens her. Reminds her of how useless she can be.

But others are struggling worse than her. Anyone who's crying or obviously frightened, she tries to comfort. Even just by sitting next to them and holding their hand. Her own troubles are minor in comparison.]

i.b

[It's when a guard comes to try and drag away a child for some punishment that Zelda's stubborn nature really makes an appearance. She leaps to her feet immediately, begging them to leave the boy alone. The guard ignores her, still wrestling with the child. Furious and afraid for the boy, Zelda does the only thing she can.

Hopping on one foot, she pulls off her shoe. Then she runs up to the guard and starts hitting him with it.]

Leave him alone!

[This is probably not going to end well.]

iii.a

[When the fighting begins, Zelda does the sensible thing and draws back out of the way. She can't fight, especially not with the collar on, so she doesn't want to be in the way. At the first possible opening though, she grabs any abductees she can and drags them towards an exit.]

Quickly, while they're distracted!

iii.b

[It's a relief to have the collar off, and breathe fresh air again. The little boy from earlier clings to her side and she tries to soothe him, petting his hair. Eventually she holds her bruised, swollen hand out and allows her magic to flare, lighting up his astonished face. It can do nothing for his pains, but it can distract him.



She stays there for quite a while as other lost abductees drift over towards her light in the dark, the trio of gold triangles on the back of her hand acting as a beacon in the dark drawing in those who aren't sure where to go. Her own injuries can wait.]

iv. wildcard

[Chuck any other ideas my way!]

[ iii. b ]

[dothelokimotion]

[ Loki watches, entranced by that show of magic. ]

What was that?

lucretia, adv zone (cw violence/injury)

[scholiast]

phrase i

(This isn't the first time Lucretia's been forcibly captured, but she's really hoping it'll be the last?? Fingers crossed.

Though all of this invokes extremely unpleasant memories, she's trying to project an aura of calm. Panicking serves only to hurt those around her at this stage. There are some far more frightened with their current circumstances than she. She distracts herself by talking with those around her, offering food to anybody who looks like they need a little bit extra (emphasis on 'little', there isn't much to give in the first place!), and drawing patterns in the grime coating the floor of their cell. Runes, mostly. She can't invoke a ward without access to her magic, but the routine of it is comfortable.

This is all before her interaction with one of the guards. She's throwing question after question at him, trying to get him to slip up and eventually he snaps and strikes her. When Lucretia hits the ground she feels something break. The pain is hot and tight in her shoulder, unbearable when she tries to move her neck. After that she keeps more to herself, mostly in the interest of keeping her arm as still as possible as the skin over her clavicle swells, ugly and bruised.)

phrase iii. a

(The moment Lucretia is out and the cuff blocking her magic is gone all bets are off. She has absolutely no mercy for those who deliberately hurt innocent people, and there's no way she's leaving anybody else behind in captivity despite her various injuries. Usually in fights she prefers to hang back to provide cover and shield people in the direct line of fire, but this time she's up the front and in the thick of the brawl with everybody else, knocking would-be cultists down one after the other.

Also, she's being petty about it. Because fuck these guys.

In one such instance, she casts wall of force, and watches two of them slam into the invisible barrier with grim satisfaction.)

phrase iii. b

(The aftermath finds Lucretia considerably calmer and finally succumbing to both her injuries and how exhausted she is. She's found a place to take respite above ground and is sitting alone, trying to gather herself before she returns to continue to help. Thankfully the cultists are more or less dealt with, because her newly reinstated spell slots are running low and there isn't really time for a short rest. She knows this. All she needs are a couple of minutes to be here with her eyes closed, that's all.

... Anyway, it's not long before she's sound asleep, slumped with her head lolling to one side. At least she had sense enough to cast a simple alarm about herself first, to alert her to anybody who might approach.)

wildcard

(feel free to do whatever, or hmu on blisters for a specific starter/extra planning if you like!)

phase III. a + b

[umbrastaff]

[ Swirling in from the sidelines, Lup comes to join Lucretia - back to back like so many times before. She works in tandem with the abjuration, cantrips and the last of her spell slots going to fuck as many cultists up as possible.

She hollers in anger and a strange feeling of freedom at the same time, watching these assholes go down. She has no fucks left to give for these cultists. Not after she had seen all the hurt and hungry people in the cages.

They were all gonna burn.

Once things are slowing down, she turns to the other woman and gently cups her face. ]

Hi.