plus_vitae: (rifle)
The Cain Cabal ([personal profile] plus_vitae) wrote in [community profile] maskormenacelogs2015-12-06 01:38 pm


WHO: imPorts- and a new enemy
WHERE: Downtown Heropa
WHEN: Night of Sunday, December 6th
WHAT: The POWER SWAP plot kicks off with imPorts lured into a devastating ambush
WARNINGS: Violence and body horror

At 7:00 PM, several buildings within the same block of downtown Heropa burst into flames. It swiftly becomes clear to the authorities that the town's emergency services are overwhelmed- Heropa is small enough to not even have its own hospital. The call goes out on the Network and on police radio channels: heroes needed. All imPorts, wherever they may be, are asked to assist. People are in danger.

The call is well-intentioned, but it is also the bait in a trap whose well-prepared jaws are about to close. People are certainly in danger on this evening, but imPorts are in more danger than anyone else. By the time this night has passed, things will be very different, and fires will be the least of the heroes' worries.
superposition: ((vulnerability))

Qubit | ota | can heal you!

[personal profile] superposition 2015-12-07 04:40 pm (UTC)(link)

When the attackers appeared - no, 'ported in - Qubit did his best to keep the situation from devolving into chaos. However, it wasn't long before he had to give up on that and switch to trying to avert an outright bloodbath. What little he had that could be called a "team" had rapidly fallen apart. He isn't one to panic, but he knows very well the same can't be said of everyone, especially in a situation like this.

Most of the Heropa Police Department is already on the scene, but they aren't soldiers. They're neither trained nor adequately equipped for open combat. The rest of the first responders aren't even armed, and they're dropping like flies. Meanwhile, the vast majority of the imPorts - himself included - have had something done to their powers, doubtless by the same people now shooting at them. It's an ingenious plan, really. Confuse, disarm, then overwhelm with superior numbers and firepower.

But powers or no powers, Qubit isn't about to take that lying down. His usual tactics aren't available to him, so he'll have to improvise... and fortunately, he's very good at improvising. Really, it's not that different from how he handles things with his powers. What's here? What's around? What can I use?

Unfortunately, as he's glowing (and brighter the more stressed he gets, which is very), he's an obvious target for both long- and short-range assailants, so he gets very little time to actually think. He manages to take cover behind a police car, grabbing one of their standard-issue rifles from between the front seats. (He tells himself it's just for intimidation value, to make the melee fighters think twice about getting close to him. And if he has to shoot someone, he's a good shot, he doesn't have to shoot to kill. Right?)

It's not that simple, of course. His reflexes are hardly superhuman, and he knows it. If he wants to hit anything he'll have to aim for center of mass, the same as anyone, and keep shooting until they can no longer shoot back. He tries to force himself to ignore that concern for now. The important thing is to protect whomever he can...

[B, after Mitch's thread]

Of course, once he realizes he can heal people, that takes on top priority. His tactics don't change much - recover the wounded, get them out - only with the added step of healing them up in between. He'll probably try to partner up with someone who can more effectively cover him, since trying to handle an assault rifle one-handed is generally considered a terrible idea.

So yeah. Need heals? He's your man.
viced: (Totally heterosexual life partners)

[personal profile] viced 2015-12-10 06:58 am (UTC)(link)
Mitchell didn't do "superheroics".

Actually, the further he stayed away from it, the better. He was a clumsy idiot when it came to fighting -- and worse, if you'd have listened to Bradbury -- and the... god, who was it? The anonymous poster on the network left him with a sense of unease. If Mitchell were intelligent, he'd have stayed away, and left Heropa to her own devices. After all, they knew it would happen in Heropa, sometime this month...

But no. No he had to be a fucking idiot, and go anyway. Because why? Because he had that fucked up sense of duty that wanted to solve problems. Except...the time he'd squared away to go over, look, and listen, and see if he could maybe give some administrative... suggestions to the people in charge of Heropa, but... But he'd barely gotten there when they showed up.

Out of goddamn nowhere, and Mitchell -- well, things were wrong. He knew it, intimately, deeply, down in his bones, his head, everything, the moment it happened. Because despite the yelling, the shots, the people making noise all around him? It's quiet. It's so goddamn quiet Mitchell hears himself think for the first time in two years -- since he lost his powers the first time. When he escaped from New Vesuvius -- when he'd asked his bodyguard to kill him.

Now it isn't something he can blame on his own actions -- other than stupidity, and not desperation.

And it's sad, that he stands there for a good long minute, staring out like he can't wrap his head around what's happening, eyes darted too fast, his head swung back and forth, before someone actually noticed that he wasn't exactly moving. Just a guy -- obviously an import, if the marks on his face said anything, and a famous one at that if you followed politics -- just standing there, like an idiot, looking around like the world was new and fresh -- something someone hadn't seen before.

The agent, soldier, whatever he was, lifted his weapon, and Mitchell, he looked at it, and -- "Gun, stop?" it was a question, by the end. Like he didn't know what was happening but he's too shell-shocked to actually do more than look confused, brows drawn in consternation, and he's about to actually move -- just his luck -- when the soldier fired.

And hit him right in the left shoulder. "Motherfucker!" he swears, before he's down, and he can't get back up? He doesn't know why? He was shot here before, he should be able to move, right? Except the floor practically holds him down -- or maybe it's him who's stuck to the floor, he can't tell, except that the soldier's satisfied he's down, and that's all that matters.

So he leaves the Ambassador to bleed out -- while Mitch struggles, stuck to the floor, swearing and groaning about the "arrow wound".
superposition: ((you won't like me when i'm angry))

[personal profile] superposition 2015-12-11 02:36 am (UTC)(link)
Well, it could also be that the skull-mask's attention gets drawn away before he can finish Mitch off. It's generally a little distracting when a glowing guy charges at you with an AR-15. Qubit pulls the trigger three times. The first and third rounds miss, but the second catches the man in the kneecap and sends him sprawling. He doesn't waste time checking on the attacker, but moves straight to the victim.

To his surprise, the face is one he recognizes. He's spoken to the guy only a couple of times, but he's sort of got a distinctive appearance. "Hundred!" Qubit crouches next to him, setting the gun on the ground for a second. It's clear at a glance the wound is pretty nasty - probably survivable, and the fact he's conscious is a good sign, but it looks painful as hell and there's definitely a lot of blood. The thing about laser wounds is, they're not nearly as clean as the movies would have you believe.

Before he can do anything to treat it, though, they need to get out of the line of fire. It won't do them any good to just get shot again. "We've got to move. Can you get up?" he asks, offering his arm to help.
viced: (My shit doesn't smell)

[personal profile] viced 2015-12-11 05:36 am (UTC)(link)
"Jesus --!" he says with a jump, when his attacker was shot, his breathing rough, but still coming in and out as even as he could. Mitch remembered what it was like to go through something like this -- last time it had been an arrow wound, but he'd been in worse pain than that.

Instinctively, his hands wanted to reach up, touch his face. He couldn't, of course, one hand stuck to the pavement, and the angle meaning he was going to have to strain against a bleeding wound that wasn't stopping or calming itself at all, and he grunted, his voice cracking slightly. He didn't know what surprised him more, the fact that this person had shot someone else -- rightfully so, of course -- and the fact that they knew him. And were likely to save his fat ass.

"Trying, but --" he finally managed, in response to his question, still struggling, face drawn in a grim line, and he struggled again. After a moment, he finally relaxed slightly. "Somethin's keeping me down," he very nearly slurred. Blood loss and his brain thinking too fast, too clearly for him to keep up -- like someone suddenly cured of an inability to concentrate fully on anything being given the opportunity finally -- he was feeling faint.

"Christ, I've been through worse," he finally added, trying again.
superposition: (And why?)

[personal profile] superposition 2015-12-11 06:52 am (UTC)(link)
Keeping him down? Did that just mean he couldn't move, or... Experimentally, Qubit reached across to Mitch's good shoulder and tried pulling him up, but - no, he was actually physically stuck to the ground. Okay.

"Lovely," he said sarcastically, glancing over his shoulder. No one immediately approaching, so it was on to step two. "All right. I'm going to try and stem the bleeding. Keep talking." He pulled Mitch's shirt and/or jacket away from the wound (which probably hurt), then leaned heavily on the wound with both hands (which would definitely hurt).

As for step three, he had no earthly idea. This was a bad place to be stuck, out in the open and with one of them lit up like a Christmas tree. If he just had his damn teleportals - he wouldn't even have to move Mitch, then, he could just take part of the pavement with them and they could worry about extricating him later. Why was he stuck in the first place? He could only assume it had to do with their mixed-up powers, but what had Mitch actually gotten? Gravity control? Ultra-high body density? Or was he simply made of Superglue?

Those questions would have to wait. Focus on saving his life first. If he could just stop the bleeding long enough for someone else to find them...

And as he thought that, something sort of ... clicked inside him. He became aware of a pronounced absence of something, and abruptly he realized the something was pain. For the first time in years, probably, he was touching another person and it didn't hurt. But it wasn't just that - for an instant it was as if that absence was spreading out of him - but only an instant, leaving him with the distinct sense something had just happened, but no idea what.

Meanwhile, though, Mitch would find that all of a sudden the wound no longer hurt, nor did anything else. Just like that, it was all completely mended. In fact, he was probably in better health now than he had been this morning.
Edited 2015-12-11 06:56 (UTC)
viced: (Ow.)

[personal profile] viced 2015-12-12 03:54 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, yeah," he grunted, his voice rougher than he'd intended. He knew how it went, at least, and his green eyes shot open when he pressed his hand close, a hiss of air from the pain. "MotherFucker!" he paused then, but he kept talking, mostly because he knew it was going to be the key to staying conscious, when he was in this much pain.

"I know how this, ah, goes," he grunted, another hiss of air. "It's not really worse, but last time I had someone to hold my hand when I got hit bad like this," when he'd been killed. Or when he'd blew off half his face back home. The night he'd gotten his powers. Good thing for medical science, huh?

His fingers twitched against the pavement, and he tensed, the more he pushed, trying to focus on...something. Was he a doctor? Mitch wouldn't be surprised, honestly. He knew how this shit went, and he was about to open his mouth and ask when --

"The shit?" he asked, eyes open and wide, and he looked around like he'd just lost it. "I've heard about drug powers, but --" he looked over at him. "You don't have painkiller powers, do you?"
superposition: ((beings of strategy))

[personal profile] superposition 2015-12-21 06:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Qubit looked almost equally confused. "I don't know," he said. It hadn't occurred to him that he might have gotten more than one power, much less one so completely unrelated to the first. If it was just a painkiller, it'd be dangerous to remove pressure enough to check, but if it was something more... He wasn't sure he could feel the hole beneath his hand anymore. Was it even still there?

Regaining his sense of urgency, he asked, "Do you have any other injuries?" If so, he could check his hunch on one of those, without having to risk Mitch's life for it.
viced: (Are you being serious right now?)

[personal profile] viced 2015-12-22 06:13 am (UTC)(link)
"Uh?" Mitch responded intelligently, his voice surprised for the whole few moments it took for him to put together the question, like it made sense. Honestly? Mitch was having trouble concentrating on much of anything, with Shi much silence around him. It was difficult, to think then you were used to do much sound at any given moment. He was too aware, and the slightly dazed look on his face said enough

Before he finally came to, and looked as best he could at him from his angle on the ground.

"I'm, uh, pretty sure that I have some road rash on my hands..."
superposition: (And yet you start to recoil)

[personal profile] superposition 2015-12-26 04:40 am (UTC)(link)
Qubit glanced quickly at Mitch's hands. On the plus side, he was casting enough light to see clearly - enough to tell that, although they were dirty and firmly stuck to the pavement, they were at least free of abrasions. And that was pretty close to confirmation.

"Not anymore," he said. "My God. It's not just painkillers, Hundred, I've got healing powers."

He almost couldn't believe it, even as he was saying it. He'd rarely encountered anyone with that sort of ability, period. Samsara's regeneration had been remarkable, but it could only affect the boy himself (and even then, not perfectly). This could be an incredible opportunity...

Let's not put the cart before the horse. Right. Now they could get moving, hopefully. He went to take pressure off the spot where Mitch's wound had been a moment ago - and found his hands firmly stuck in place. Oh, crap. Of course he was stuck. Why hadn't he considered that?! He tugged a few times more before letting out an irritated sigh. "All right. Well, this is a problem."
viced: (Coy)

[personal profile] viced 2015-12-27 05:17 am (UTC)(link)
"Glad to help you figure that one out," Mitch said, simply, as if it had been a large inconvenience, but the relief was present on his face. He was about to try and thug away when...

"Wait, stuck? The fuck do you mean stuck? Can't you...move?"

His face pinched, and his brow furrowed while he tried to pull away, which didn't get him far at all, stuck to him like he was.