Summary:Through guile and teamwork by SHIELD agents and consultants alike, Captain America, gone AWOL, is taken down despite the full moon in the sky. A mysterious secondary grouping of werewolves is observed. Who could that pack be…? Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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The report came in over the comms this time in the reverse direction: Agent Barnes reporting sighting of Agent Rogers, lost contact in Central Park, status: still AWOL. With Rogers, three additional werewolves of smaller size and varied color: red-brown, black, and a pale one he basically shot full of holes because she tried savaging him.
Where would Steve go? Ideas were tossed around in the quickest, most professional meeting back at SHIELD headquarters and it boiled down to Coney Island. Anyone familiar with Steve's history will know of his familiarity with the area and given the curse comes with a twisted sense of dementia, he'd seek the familiar.
It's very quiet out on the beaches at this hour. Folks are heeding the warnings to stay inside after dark, especially these days. Streelights cast dull orange cones of light upon wet asphalt and some illumination onto the sands beyond the raised boardwalks. Drizzle comes down in misty sheets with the autumnal weather in full swing. It seems like it's drying up, however, which means shredded sheets of cloud begin revealing the full harvest moon above. Seagulls make a ruckus towards the far end of the beach — odd at this time of night, they should all be asleep. What could be causing them to cry out?
Buck's one of the few there….well, not alone, he's coordinating with the group. But he's far out ahead, scouting. No, they haven't fully evacuated the area. But a guy in SHIELD fatigues, an earpiece, carrying an assault rifle, and wearing that 'don't even try to fuck with me, Comrade' aura, complete with the dead-eyed stare - it somehow clears a path for him. He doesn't need to warn about werewolves, worry about the were-cyborg.
At the moment, he's glancing hopefully at the beach proper, as if he might see the tracks of big clawed paws on the firm sand. Charlie don't surf, but maybe the furballs do.
Jemma had got the call and elected to come. It might be very a very bad idea but the biochem can be a little reckless and it *is* Steve, after all.
Standing with the group, in her SHIELD tac gear, the biochem's cybernetic eye is currently glowing blue - scanning in Infrared to see what she can make out.
For anything with the senses in the area, they'll get the whiff of the lavendar she uses and not a small amount of anxiety.
Tony Stark was one of the people who decided that he needed to come here and help his friend. Getting suited up in the Iron Man armor, Tony lands -hard- on the ground in a classic superhero landing with the rest of the group. Rising up to his full height, Tony speaks. "Okay gang, we all know the deal." Stark uses the suits scanners to see if he can find anything out there…
Like a Taylor Lautner-version of Steve Rogers.
He already starts moving with that classic kind of Tony Stark swagger that gets on nerves rather quick (usually).
Yep, he's apparently one of the good guys now. Have you gotten the memo?
'Shift' isn't wearing any SHIELD tac gear, considering that with his particular power set, it's a useless gesture. The nanosuit is all he needs. When the call for advanced scouts went out, he went to work. SHIELD, having hacked his nanosuit, can now communicate with him regardless of what form he takes.
A look is briefly given toward those he knows, before the man transforms into a cloud of smoke that disappears into the night sky, headed for the ferris wheel.
A few moments later, he re-solidifies atop the beastly ride, concealed in the night by not only his nanosuit, but by the darkness of his skin. Currently it's configured to cover his entire body, hiding the silver eyes from view and from creating any reflections that might be seen down below.
Thea had come along with the group, both out of her curiousity of what a werewolf's system would look like to her powers, and what were-Steve would seem like, as well as the fact she may be able to help find a way to slow Steve (and the rest of his pack) down.
She's got her hair back in a tight ponytail, in her blackest gear, barring the battered olive green bag she keeps medic stuff in, along with emergency protein and sugar for herself if she needs it.
She will flick a glance at Tony, before she's looking around. A hand will drop to check weaponry as faithfully as a true believer touches a cross.
Jessica's never been one to believe in werewolves. But this involves Steve Rogers, and that's as good a reason as any to get involved.
What part of her is trying to believe has brought a silver dagger with a crucifix on the hilt. And a pocketful of garlic, and a bag of Beggin' Strips. And the Smoke Monster from LOST. Because you just never know.
The seagulls continue their ruckus. A foghorn sounds in the distance — and good timing. There's a bank of it beginning to grow on the waters and rolling in. Unless the team locates their asset, vision might dramatically be reduced within minutes.
Nothing like being hunted in fog thick enough that you have to reach in front of your face to feel around.
In the distance, a long and lonesome howl rises up. It's too deep to be a dog…far too deep.
Baskervilles, roll over in your graves.
Buck clicks on the link. "Guys, Barnes. Apparently they all like pina coladas and long walks on the beach, because I'm seeing a lot of tracks on the sand - looks like the whole pack. Gonna see if I can't call in Rogers. Worked last time."
Last time? Oh, that's a great idea. But he vaults lightly over the edge of the boardwalk proper, to land in a clatter of gear on the sand. And then, without an iota of hesitation, he's tipping back his head and howling like a wolf himself.
"Agent Simmons here. I'm seeing a group of larger heated bodies heading down the beach. Near where the gulls are crying."
The biochem frowns, focussing on the images her implants are feeding her - the feeling is weird, the i/r feed overlaid on her normal vision.
"There's another body there. Warm enough to register but cooling."
Well, so much for scanning. Tony hears that howl just like everybody else. He listens to Bucky's transmission. "Don't make yourself into a semi-robotic dog treat, Barnes. I trust Cap's judgement too on friend or foe, but chances are, he won't be friendly."
Simmon's words get his attention. "How many larger heated bodies, Simmons?" Might as well get a headcount. That'll help him decide just how infectious Cap's predicament happens to be. He immediately though starts walking towards that direction. Hands raise, ready to repulsor blast what wants to make Tony a chewtoy.
Kwabena's eyes turn vigilantly from his perch, and then the lock upon a nearby rooftop. "Got something," he says quietly, the nanosuit picking up his words and transmitting it over SHIELD's channels. "7:00 from de ferris wheel front-ways, rooftop. Will check on it."
Without waiting, the mutant transforms once again into aforementioned smoke monster, only without the weird flashes and clicking sounds. It rolls off into the night, headed for the rooftop as silent as the wind itself. Only the quiet sound of air being displaced is heard when he reforms into human form upon that rooftop, otherwise unarmed.
Thea responds to Barnes, "Let's hope we don't all get caught in the rain." She's wary of the rain, even as she tucks her bag in close, settling it at the lower curve of her back. She starts moving to head on down along the edge of the beach before she takes a deep breath. With the the exhale, she stops blocking the feed of her powers to consciously take in any information she can gather again.
Jessica closes her eyes and takes a slow, deep breath. Her senses don't betray the presence of bystanders, but there is a strange tingle creeping up the back of her neck.
"There don't seem to be any civilians in the area," Jess says into her comm. "But I'm sensing the others. More than one, most definitely. They've got my senses reeling."
As if Barnes' howl were a signal, all hell breaks loose.
Up on the rooftop, Kwabena will be very suddenly privy to the hunched figure turning in a supernaturally-quick spin. Eyes flash red and then there's about four hundred pounds of werewolf hurtling at him with mouth agape and front hands reaching out to touch with recurved talons.
A chorus of howls come as a reply to the Soldier and there, across the beach: three of them, the scounting werewolves described in Bucky's report — and all headed dead at him in eerie silence now, eyes flashing in the night.
One diverts in order to take a leap at Tony in his flashy armor. With fur dark as night, its eyes gleam green in its leap at him with all four front feet aimed out as if to cling to him like a squirrel to a tree.
The reddish-brown peels away to aggress at the other members of the party. Jessica, Jemma, and Thea had all be ready to react! It's heftily-built, eyes flashing green as well.
This leaves a pale, smaller, and vengeful snarl of werewolf flying at Bucky. This one very much wants to remove his throat.
But where's Steve?
…an eerie thought, not to see the canny super-soldier immediately present.
Well, that doesn't look like his husband in the least. Looks like the hairball he had an acrimonious dispute with, in fact. Bucky dances back, firing - short bursts, the betraying rattle of semi-auto, muzzle flare lighting up the dark. Silver-jacketed rounds. Trying to keep a little distance, take out her legs again.
Whatever pity he might have for the human she was, it's not present in his face at all. There's that abstracted lack of expression, in fact, and his voice is flat as he reports, "Contact. Engaged with a smaller female, got two medium-sized males." A beat, and he adds, drily, "Guess they didn't like my accent."
Jemma moves with the group, drawing her weapon "Anyone using ICERs, there's a new mixture in the darts. I've tweaked the formula to try and accomodate for Steves changes. It's unlikely they'll be as effective as they were before, so be aware. He's evolving thanks to the Super Soldier serum."
Taking a breath, the biochem focusses again on the group "Four, Ironman. And I'm not sure that sound in the sky is birds … Shift. Heads up, you've attracted their attention. You've got incoming."
Speaking of incoming, the biochem raises her ICER and opens fire. Four shots. Straight to the chest of the wolf - hopefully.
|ROLL| Jemma Simmons +rolls 1d4 for: 3
"Only four? Huh, my calculations were off then and I just lost the fantasy werewolf bracket. Dammit." Tony quips lightheartedly, but then he sees it. A large-looking wolf charges at him like a squirrel does to a tree. But thankfully, Tony is prepared for this. He lifts his hands up towards him like he's gonna try and give him a high ten (or a ten-star to the chest), but instead he fires off a repulser blast meant to have some concussive punch to it! Yes, Tony had to make some adjustments to make his gear for this mission non-lethal.
Man, he misses fighting HYDRA. Least he could blow 'em up then.
But no, they still have to cure these people somehow. "Say cheese!" Tony says to the wolf just before he blasts the repuslors at it.
"Copy," Kwabena replies to Simmons' report. That is certainly something to be concerned about. His adrenaline is already surging, but surely that has nothing to do with the howling in the air, right? Stepping forward, he begins inspecting the rooftop, when something flashes in the corner of his eye.
Spinning, he faces the monstrosity head on. "Engaging," he reports over the comm, but that's all he's got time to say. Otherwise, he doesn't seem to be making any attempt at getting out of the way, or any action at all in fact. Not yet.
The moment the werewolf makes contact, it makes contact with a cloud of smoke. The cloud whips past the creature, reforming behind the monstrosity, but the transformation from solid to flesh doesn't exactly stop there. With hands finding purchase on fur, Kwabena bears down and his body rapidly superhardens. There's an an ugly sound of skin cracking and popping as the cellular structure takes on something far more similar to titanium. The transformation makes him radically stronger, and his grasp is unforgiving as it seeks to dig into flesh.
With a growl, Kwabena lowers his body and heaves, denting the roof beneath his feet. Four hundred pounds is easy in his supersolid state, and the goal is to throw the werewolf over his body, aiming to smash it into the rooftop, head first.
"Maybe you said something rude about her mother. " Thea responds to Bucky without any sort of forethought. She has her gun in hand, the one loaded with the ICERs versus the one with live ammo. But Jemma is hitting the wolf first, and Thea instead focuses on pushing the formula through the wolf's system faster to hopefully incapcitate more quickly.
She sidesteps away from the group a bit as she does this, trusting her powers to tell her where else the werewolves are, to keep tabs on them as well as other agents. She won't let anyone else get infected.
Bucky's aim rarely fails him. The pale werewolf takes more than one shot to the major muscle groups of her thighs and arms. She yowls in something very nearly a scream before becoming a blurred tumble in the rain-wetted sand in his direction. She scrambles to her feet and still swipes out a him even while freely bleeding.
Three of Jemma's ICER shots slam into the reddish-brown werewolf. It lets out a roar of pain as well; the newly-mixed contents of the shots immediately begin to get to work at atrophying the virus in its system. Thea's influence is more than enough to make the admixture work at double-speed.
Tony's werewolf does say cheese! Look at all those teeth! At least until it gets slammed square in the chest with the repulsor shot. Like a furry bowling ball, it flies away and slams through the wooden handrailing of the boardwalk. Splinters fly left and right. It even skips off into the water itself with a splash, KERFLISH! The darkly-furred werewolf is slow to get up, reeling.
Kwabena's got two handfuls of writhing and very surprised werewolf! It begins yelping at least until it's slammed down headfist upon the rooftop. It goes silent abruptly and very limp, knocked unconscious.
Jessica's senses never fail her. In the far distance down the beach, there is another grouping eyeing the entire proceedings.
And here's Steve! He smelled the lavender after all. The blond werewolf lands on the boardwalk and lets out a huge, leonine roar, ears and lips pulled back in full threat display.
She's close. And then closer….and now Buck's own instincts take over. For he lets the rifle drop to its sling and seizes her by the throat with a metal hand….and both grips and shakes. She may be able to heal from a crushed throat in time, but that's a *may*.
Then he's turning at the sound of the big blond wolf. "Stevie!" he yells, and his voice is high and ragged. "Come *here*." Apparently Steven has been a very bad dog indeed.
It's times like this that Jemma misses Koa or Jeriah. Koa has the arcane protections and can fight these creatures on their own terms. Jeriah, he's a bullet shield and snarky git who keeps the biochem on her toes. Right now though, she's got a different team to work with.
"Get that wolf secured. Muzzle it. WAND gave us equipment. Use it." It sounds so strange coming from Jemma. The order like instructions. The three TAC agents with them move, approaching the downed she-wolf as she writhes on the ground. "Harmon, put that thing out."
Regardless of whether Thea can or not, the agents approach carefully and when she weakens, wrestle her to get the muzzle on and the wolf restrained. There's a SHIELD van waiting to take the newest patients back to SHIELD medical.
Jemma is distracted by the approach of the blonde werewolf and she immediately holsters her ICER, holding her hands up and moving away from the group that might well be shooting. She's quiet while Bucky calls to Steve-Wolf. Hopefully that will work. If not, there's a lavendar scented Steve-treat… right there.
"Shoot to thrill!"
Tony says those words like he's the lead singer of AC/DC. Good news is, that werewolf is kinda getting up in a way that says 'please don't hit me again'. So Tony has pity on him and blasts ANOTHER repulsor shot directly at it! Long-distance style.
But then there's a blonde werewolf and Tony speaks through the link. "Found Stevie." and he looks like he's prepared to engage, even if he has a feeling that Bucky would rather talk first.
As soon as the werewolf is down, Kwabena's body changes back into normal flesh and blood. "One tahget neutralized," he reports. He crouches down next to the werewolf, and sees the chest rising and falling. Still alive.
Now it comes time to heed Jemma's earlier warning. Turning, he looks to the sky, but the incoming fog makes it difficult to see what bird like monstrosities may be headed for him.
"Dese things sensitive to light?" he asks.
Agent Harman doesn't even spare Jemma a glance, as she watches the ICED werewolf lose consciousness. Then she makes sure the she-wolf Bucky had been wrestling with was down and out, ready for restraint.
She will move as quickly as she can while being quiet, moving to back up Bucky. She will focus her gaze on the wereSteve, starting to pull on bodily chemicals to try and mellow out Cap Canine.
Jessica lifts her head and glances back to the others. "There are more, up ahead. The same type, feels like. I'm gonna get a better look," she utters, touching her comm. "Be on your guard. I'll find out how many more we're dealing with."
Tony's second shot takes the werewolf back into the water again. It emerges with a gasp, looking more the part of a large drowned rat now. The darkly-furred werewolf has apparently had enough of this grouping of heroes. Whining under its breath, it turns and attempts to barrel away down the beach, headed towards the distant grouping of individuals. The group…doesn't appear to be dismayed by this.
Eerie.
With the reddish-brown werewolf nearly entirely changed back now and the pale female werewolf reedily breathing but still alive, it leaves the team to deal with Steve specifically.
With his hackles up and writhing and teeth fully on display in his terrifying menacing of everyone around him, it takes a second for Bucky's words to filter through. The werewolf seems to check himself and stare particularly at Barnes, as if the man might be familiar. It leaves him open and unaware of impending moves against him.
Poor Kwabena. Those birds? Seagulls, a dozen of them, suddenly dropping down out of the darkness to harass him relentlessly! They arwk and shriek and shed feathers because they've misidentified him as a threatening werewolf himself!
"C'mon, Stevie, it's me," Impatience mingled with that raw note. He's trying to keep up the professional facade, that remnant of the thing so feared by so many of SHIELD's agents for so long….but this is his boy. Steve's been out in this form for so long.
So Buck's leaving himself open, beckoning for the werewolf to come to him, as if that'll make everything right.
"Acknowledged Agent Drew." Jemma answers, letting her eye cut in that direction for a moment. "All agents, we don't have much time before they decide we look appetising."
"Bucky. Simmons. I have a line on Captain Rogers. I can take the shot so we can contain him. We don't have much time." Not if that's another group of wolves coming for them. "Do I have your permission?" The biochem gets it and it's a hard call to make. Normally she would just act but not this time.
"Light and sound should work, Shift." Jemma draws her ICER and fits a new magazine, sights the weapon and fires. Six shots. In the back.
What a coward.
|ROLL| Jemma Simmons +rolls 1d6 for: 2
Yeah, you see…Bucky may like that kind of 'its me buddy, you don't want to do this. I know you're still in there' kind of routine, but Tony likes results and he likes immediate results. After all, what if the Werewolf Steve gets close to Bucky and infects him with..whatever the hell turned Cap into a werewolf in the first place?!
So, Tony does what Tony does best.
He performs the Tonyism. Definition: Fucking the original plan up because Tony knows best, to which Tony puts on shades afterwards because he thinks its cool.
So, Steve-Wolf may find a Unibeam coming at him, originating from the chest of the Iron Man suit. "Wake up, sunshine!"
Kwabena is fully expecting that whatever is coming at him out of the sky will be some sort of horrible, twisted version of anything that flies. The first gull to attack him ends up swung at, but the lucky seagull narrowly avoids getting pummeled. It doesn't take long to register that these are not weregulls.
"Dammit!"
Flailing about for a moment, Kwabena growls and vaults for the edge of the rooftop, leaping off in a swan dive that leaves the seagulls swarming about angrily on the rooftop. He hits the ground in what would have been a lethal fall, except for the fact that he briefly changes into smoke upon impact. When he reforms, he's already running, following the sounds in his ears to close in on the others. He'd have gone after Jessica to give her backup, but the fog is going to make that very difficult.
Light and sound, however, that he can do.
"Copy. On your mark, Simmons Don't look back. Or up."
Leaping as he runs, the newest addition to their ranks takes to the sky in a streak of black, gaseous tendrils that pierce through the fog until he's high enough above everyone to avoid singing them. The cloud sparkles as the nanotech creates millions of microscopic energy arcs, but in the blink of an eye, the biomatter is ignited.
The sound resembles a power transforming blowing, but the light is blinding to anyone who looks at it. Fortunately, he's behind and above the team, so unless they look, they'll be fine.
She sees Simmons' shots hit the big WereSteve, and she grabs onto that instant. She quickly starts rushing the formula through his circulatory system while pulling on his Serotonin and melatonin as well. She's trying to make him a happy, sleepy Steve-wolf, when Tony blasts him. "What the hell, Stark!" There's a bit of biofeedback, and Thea snarls. She's going to need a stiff drink after this, shaking her head to clear it.
Steve's focus narrows intensely upon the man with the metal arm — he can scent it from here, familiar and yet somehow threatening. Is that an invitation to pounce upon him? It must be! By the way the werewolf crouches lower and becomes tense, ears now flicking forwards, Barnes is the next objective.
The ICER shots dig into his back as aimed and planned. Kidney shots sting like the devil. Steve leaves the ground in a spectacular flipping flail of muscle and fur as he YOWLS to wake the dead! Tony's unibeam takes him in the side in mid-air to send him tumbling down the boardwalk in a tumble of limbs as well. With the addition of Kwabena's sudden and spectacular light display to white out the Captain's vision, he's…
…very much down for the count. Thea's powers rush the anti-viral admixture through his veins along with the aid of his quickly-beating heart. In less than a handful of blinks and after some painful-sounding cracklings of bone realigning with tendons, there's Steve himself — somehow still in his tattered pair of jeans. His skin is red and abraided in places between tumbling and unibeam, but he seems conscious. Mostly. Curling into a fetal position against the pain of the ICER contents, the man mumbles very dizzily,
"I think I'm hearing colors…"
Down the beach, the mysterious grouping disappears as quickly as they arrived into the fog now clinging to the shoreline.
And Buck's at his side in a heartbeat, kicking up a roostertail of wet sand as he moves, dragging the big blond into his arms. All but crouching over him as if he'd growl like a wolf himself - glaring around defensively, before he starts checking his vitals. "It's okay," he tells Thea, firmly. As if just saying that will make it so.
"Not looking back, Shift." Jemma acknowledges as she watches Steve go tumbling. "Ironman!!" Yes, Jemma has shades for the man in the truck. Can she really blame the man in the red and gold iron suit? Not really. They do what they need to.
"Medics see to Captain Rogers, get him and Bucky back to the med facility." She's not going to fuss here. It's stressful enough for the two men. "Science teams, clean up. Other Agents provide protection in case we get more visitors."
Though it doesn't look like they will.
"Anyone hurt?"
Tony approaches the downed Steve Rogers and the rest of the group as they tend to him.
"Sorry Bucky, Couldn't take the chance. He was looking at you like you were a medium-rare ribeye with extra seasoning." Yes, Tony took the initiative and frankly…to supernatural creatures, that whole 'we're your friends!' and stuff usually doesn't work in Tony's mind. "He'll hate me when he's back to his full senses, but…worth it."
He looks at Thea.
"What?"
then to Jemma. "I need to run tests on his system. Need to make sure he won't wolf-out on us again."
Thea will offer Bucky a faint smile. "It will be okay." She's already boosting Steve's body against the injury from the chest blast.
She gives Tony a flat look. "I was working on bringing him down to Steve when you blasted him. It's not pleasant for me when things like that happen. Check next time, if you have a second, huh?" Her guns are strapped back into holsters, before she heads back the way they came. "I'll bill you for the drink I need after that, Stark!"
As soon as they've got Steve contained, the light goes out. Kwabena coalesces out of the blackness, approaching the group with heavy breaths. "Don't forget about person on roof," he tells the cleanup teams, before standing back a bit and keeping watch on the situation.
A brief look is given to Jemma, however. "Seagulls," he tells her quietly. "God Damn seagulls." She'll understand.