Summary:Sometimes the conspiracies are true. Sometimes they're even worse than anticipated. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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The realm and domain of conspiracies is the internet, most particularly the so-called Dark Web. And most who specialize in conspiracy theories assume that those behind such conspiracies are the mighty and influential: government figures of authority, leading politicians, or major industrialists. And often that may prove to be true.
But sometimes a conspiracy can appear to be one thing, but in truth be something else entirely. Skye found something out there which certainly seemed to be a shadow government cell operating within the intelligence community, arranging for the transport of classified and restricted government technology - quite possibly weapons - out of regulated and documented government custody and into their own for future use. Hence the presence of three large unmarked and completely blacked-out vans pulled up to this warehouse, just six hours after a ship docked on the river side of said warehouse and unloaded here.
What Skye does not know - indeed, cannot know - is that these are not government agents. Oh, they are living as government agents. They have completely assumed their identities. But they are in fact dire wraith agents. And the supervillain technology offloaded here that they are stealing will serve to further their goals for dominion, as well as being completely untraceable.
But secreted on the rooftop of a warehouse across the street is the hoverbike of the secretive figure known as Voodoo. Alien-hunting ninja assassin by night. Stripper extraordinaire by day. She may be learning how to use computers, but she did not get here the same way Skye did. No, she is here because telepathy is a wonderful thing, as the Sight which assures she can see the dire wraiths for what they are no matter what they do to disguise themselves. Even possessing the men - and women - now doing their bidding.
*
This could be the one… Skye's big break. She didn't drop everything to drive her rusty old conversion van all the way from the Windy City to the Big Apple because of the local cuisine. It's densely populated, -full- of metahumans, billions of dollars all around, and stacked so full of layers that it would take a lifetime to pick through them all. It's not a question of IF something seriously shady is happening but a matter of where and when.
Today she has an answer to those two questions. Arriving quite early had been paramount. It gave her time to remotely link into the local security feeds and gain access to all of the cameras. What they see through the electronic eyes she sees..and has recording for later dissection.
She's got her best drone in all of its hi-def glory charged and waiting to hit the skies for a closer view. She's got her exit strategies worked out (know your exits!) She's even got some pepper spray and a taser from one Hank McCoy..and a home-made smoke grenade. Gods know why she decided to tuck that into a pocket.
The only thing she -doesn't- have are cameras centered on the action proper. The only opportunity she'll have is to figure out exactly where in the area the deal is going to go down so she can get optimal angles covered. To do that..she has to be on foot.
It's cool though, she's -totally- got this.
*
Voodoo can feel the dire wraiths nearby, and with her adaptive eyes she can make out the activity going on around the vans. She knows at least one of those there is a dire wraith; she suspects more. Blaster and sword at the ready, the alien-hunting stripper ninja is ready to strike …
When Voodoo's telepathy picks up something else. Someone else. A human woman, or so she believes herself to be. And yet the woman is sneaking in upon the scene. Alone. Largely unarmed.
With a grimace of suppressed fury, Voodoo leaps from her rooftop perch and starts sprinting from cover to cover, trying her best to get in close before she is spotted. Hopefully she can get in close enough to disrupt them before they spot the poor foolish woman and murder her, just to keep their secrets!
*
Oh no, foolish would be not trying to get some -seriously- incriminating evidence! Skye's skulking about with one eye on her phone and the other on her surroundings. Already tied into the camera network she knows where the blind spots are, she can get around without winding up on those recordings herself. It's like a puzzle more than a maze as each tiny camera she installs is another piece of the picture. She will have her day, oh yes…
At least the girl can move quickly when her mind is set on something.
That there's another independent force in the area or aliens, shapeshifting or not, is completely unknown. All she sees are a bunch of idiot government suits doing stupid stuff and thinking they're going to get away with it. Won't they be surprised when these videos hit the public net!
From a spot of cover she then turns attention to pulling the drone out of her bag and powering it up. "Showtime, you jerks."
*
Voodoo is working hard to keep herself off of those cameras' recordings, but she only has whatever flits thorugh Skye's own active thoughts and her own sight to guide her; she probably shows up, shadowed, on some of the footage. She's just too damned determined to get to the bad guys before the innocent clueless can get herself killed.
The drone goes up as directed, and gets the lead-in to the real money shot; all Skye has to do is switch over to nightvision, or turn on the mini spotlight to capture their malfeasance once and for all.
There's no real way of knowing what it is that gives them away. It could be the whirr of the drone's blades spinning. It could be a scuff of Skye's shoe, a skitter of gravel. Or it could be some magical ward set on the place, picking up the hacker or the assassin coming towards them. What matters is that they suddenly drop their latest loads and lift weapons, turning to fire.
« Get down! » comes a shout … but there is nothing for Skye's ears to hear. The blasts start flying, and the next thing is the figure-four sliding Voodoo hopefully crashing into Skye's ankles to bring her down before those blasts tear through her body!
*
Too bad for Skye, nightvision equipped drones are a -little- (lot) out of her price range. If she's going to get the shot then she needs to hit the lights.
It's funny sometimes how quickly all hell can break loose. Weapons start to come up and the hackerette's eyes go wide. "Oooh there it iswait what"
No time is permitted for her to consider that someone just spoke to her -inside of her own head- when someone comes sliding out of nowhere and kicks her to the ground!
"Hey, what—!"
Then a hole appears clean through the cover she had been relying on..right where she had been standing.
"WHOA OH-Kay WHAT is going on?! Are these guys selling ..what, -alien- tech or something??"
Of course she's still trying to get 'the scoop.' The drone's still up there, she can see what it sees through her phone. Gotta get some zoomed in footage on whatever it is they're packing!
This is terrifying!
This is stupid!
This is gonna make the internet -freaking explode!-
*
« You have got to be kidding me! You're more interested in your stupid scoop than in saving your damned life?! » that non-vocal voice shouts in the hacker girl's head.
Voodoo rolls up beside a bit of cover and pulls out her blaster, taking aim and firing at those firing upon her and upon Skye. Then the concentrated fire tears through the cover … and a gout of sizzling blood splatters across Skye and her phone, as one of those blasts punches a hole through the gold-accented purple-clad masked woman who came out of nowhere to try to save her.
*
"Hey, it's important to have something to live for!" Skye counters without it ever occurring to her that maybe she could just think what she wanted to say and have it reach the intended audience.
A little more of her fascination bubbles forth upon seeing both Voodoo and her own peculiar weapon when her yearning for The Truth does a sudden reversal and retreat. Being spattered by gore and watching the person next to you get partly turned inside out is a REAL good reality check.
"Ohoh noOh Nooh godno no no…"
Where seconds ago she had managed to largely keep her cool the hackerette's hands are already trembling as fight or flight comes to join the adrenaline party.
A more level-minded person would have already thrown the smoke grenade and ran for it after (or before!) the first shot could be made. Skye is no longer a level-minded person. She's fortunate to remember the bag slung across her shoulder as she scrambles against the pavement and turns to run.
Now she knows what it's like to live out those dreams where you're trying to escape something but your legs just don't seem to want to work.
*
Voodoo shouts a series of scathing epithets and curses across multiple languages as she scrambles back, her usual sword hand currently plastered to the bubbling hole in her side as she tries to get her bearings.
« Get DOWN, you idiot, or they'll shoot you too! » that really mean non-verbal voice slams into Skye's panicking brain.
The blasts keep coming. If Skye were to check the view from her drone - right before it is blasted out of the sky - she might see the men from around the vans advancing on the spot of cover where she and the crazy purple lady were hiding.
*
Get down?! But she WAS down and the person next to her blew up and—how is she still 'talking?'
Skye's not too far gone to hit the ground again, quick to draw knees close to her chest and bring her arms around and hands up closer to her ears. Being in what amounts to an active warzone is so far beyond her comfort zone! Except…
Did the perforated gal just call her an -idiot?-
The blood has to get physically smeared across the screen of her phone to see anything when the drone feed vanishes in a flash of light, prompting a seething curse hissed under her breath. She goes through more of those units…
But it did reveal something. Skye's wild eyes leap upward as she takes a panicky moment to get her bearings. Then comes a frantic motion off to the side. "They'reover there! They're"
The smoke grenade is remembered. Trembling hands shake it out of the pack where it rolls across the ground before she can make a mad grab for it.
Uh..how does this thing work again..?
*
« Yeah, yeah. They're coming. I know. » that non-vocal voice responds. How she knows is left up for interpretation, because the lady in purple has her head well and truly down, now, so she couldn't have seen anything. « Do me a favor: get ready to run. »
That last is all the warning that Skye gets. With a charred hole still in her side, hand pressed to it, the woman drops her blaster into a holster along her other thigh, then stuffs that hand into a small pack on her back — wow, that move seems almost boneless, or is that just adrenaline? — and out comes a cannister. She flicks something off of it with her thumb, and then throws it over the cover towards where those figures are approaching.
« Three. Two. One. RUN! »
And on the other side, there's a 'tink tink tink' followed by a very, very large BOOM!
*
Skye makes a 'what the hell!' motion with so much vigor that she about loses the grenade. Without meaning to 'project' Voodoo would clearly hear her thoughts this time: « Run, don't run, make up your damn mind lady! »
Yeah, she can figure out this whole 'smoke' thing later because she really is getting ready to run again. Distance is good! Distance -away from the shooting- is even better.
"How the -hell- can you even—"
Run?
Talk?
Do anything other than stain the concrete?
Oh shit. Run means -run.- The hacker girl nearly trips herself up while trying to kick herself into high gear. Moments later this attempt is also paired with hands clamping over her ears as if she's trying to hide from the sound of her own yell!
*
Somehow, improbably, the purple-clad woman is up and sprinting behind Skye. Or, she was. But she is sprinting so gosh darned fast that she shifts position, leaving her right hand still plastered to her side as her left comes around the small of Skye's back … and she keeps picking up speed, dragging the other woman along with her around corners and away from the threat.
« I'm open to tons of questions. But maybe after we're not on the menu, OK? » comes through that odd connection. And then a sensation of gnawing hunger, and a devout craving for a greasy cheeseburger. No. Make that half a dozen greasy cheeseburgers.
*
What is happening? Seriously, like -what is happening?- Skye is moving faster than she's supposed to be, faster than she's -capable- of running, and worst of all—
"Hey where are we going?! My van's THAT way! You aren't planning on -running- away from this, are you? They already got my drone and my cameras are a total write-off, they can't get my VAN!"
And now she suddenly wants a cheeseburger… What a weird night this is turning out to be!
Focus, Skye. Bullets cannot be out-run. Get to the damn van!
*
« Away, goddamnit! » comes the terse, annoyed answer of that non-verbal voice, as Voodoo skids around a third corner and then sprints them across the street.
« Hang on! » comes the order / suggestion as Voodoo sprints at the wall … and then LEAPS UP, her arm tightening around the other woman's waist and trying to hold on while trying her best to launch both of them with enough force to clear the edge of the warehouse roof.
Assuming they make it, her plan is to get this chick on her hoverbike and get the heck out of here.
If they don't, whatever her plan is really isn't going to matter.
*
"You don't understand, I have my -life- in that van! There's things that they can't—ohcrap!"
Hang onto WHAT?! The only object Skye can latch onto is Voodoo, herself!
…
They're on the roof.
How did they get on the—Is that a BIKE? What's a BIKE doing up here!
"Oh—Ooooh god." It's up here because it can fly. Is this a bad time for Skye to think that she's never flown before? Like..ever? Not even on a trampoline?
Hacker girl is looking mighty pale, plus the last time she saw this other gal in purple had a giant hole going through her and was bleeding rather profusely and will that ever wash out of Skye's coat?
"Ground—" she forces around a hard swallowing motion. "Ground is good. I like ground. We should really be spending more time there. I would really like to go back there please."
*
« Away first, ground later! » that snippy, pained non-verbal voice insists, as Voodoo tries to drag the woman over to the bike. But she cannot possibly drive - fly - this thing and hold Skye, so if Skye really wants to resist, she's not going to be able to stop her.
Not unless Voodoo does something she has promised herself she would never do: compel someone to obey her.
Voodoo hisses in pain as she mounts the bike and pats the back of it. "C'mon." she growls aloud. "Climb on, will you, before they get here? I'll get you to the damned van, OK?"
*
Skye would be having an absolute field day if she had any idea who is trying to get her to safety tonight. Instead it's an awkward "Yah..okay, just like the time I rode that scooter…" as she tries to psych herself up to simply -get on the damn bike.- No force is necessary but it does kind of feel like she's walking herself to the edge of a ravine or something.
Seriously is the only force that'll keep her butt on the seat going to be her own strength?
Either the purple lady is losing patience or she's trying to level with Skye, now it's a proper conversation without all of the mental connectivity.
"They can still get us from up here? What the—" Questions later, remember? "Oh my god" she mutters with a heavy feeling of dread. Yes..they're about to fly off of a rooftop on a bike. How's that for being where the action is!
*
"You bet your ass they can." Voodoo snarls, coughing into her mask wetly before she fires up the bike, a deep thrumming whir vibration passing through their bodies, and then she launches the bike off the roof.
Meanwhile, there on the roof, a shimmering black circle swirls, growing larger, and then two of those men, looking impossibly mangled but still moving, emerge carrying those crazy weapons and firing at where the bike was, then trying to track after the bike in mid-air. Good thing Voodoo is a crazy but very good flier/driver.
« Hang the f**k on! » comes the imperative; Voodoo can't really shout loud enough to be heard over the bike and the rushing wind right now.
*
Okay. Skye is -not- about to plunge to her death. She isn't being shot at. Shit's still real. She's not an idiot. Now -do something.-
While Voodoo's getting the bike powered up and ready to move the hackerette is reaching for that silly home-built grenade again. If there's one thing she's learned some time ago it's that not being able to see where the action is -Sucks.- Maybe this could cover their retreat—
'Hang the f**k on!'
"WHOOP—!"
The small object is fumbled but armed on its way out of her fingers to land on the rooftop belowbehindsomewhere way the hell back there.
A perfectly worried sound gradually rises in pitch as she gets a death-grip on whatever she can possibly reach for (and please don't be a bloody hole in Purplegal's stomach…)
Baddies are teleporting (teleporting!!) in behind them. The ground is several hundred feet below them. But waiting for the others back on that rooftop?
That would be her one meaningful contribution to this evening's festivities. Tonight's forecast calls for foggy Skyes.
*
With the smoke grenade and Voodoo's fancy flying, they are soon out of range and out of immediate sight. « They're going to keep coming. We need to split up. » A sharp bank, and Voodoo grunts in pain.
The purple-clad woman's body is making repairs exponentially faster than any normal person ever could- they would die before they could. But it's not going to be instantaneous. The burning heat of the blast was really helpful, though; she's mostly cauterized.
« Gonna drop you off at your van. You need to get going fast, and head - at best traffic speed - due west. I'll go south, draw them away. » Voodoo explains. « Reach into the pack on my back. There's a phone there. Take it. »
Less than a minute later, they 'touch down' by getting within a foot of the ground, scooting right up to the driver's side of the van. "Get going." she growls aloud, and then lifts off and banks south as promised.
*
"That's not something I want to heACK!" Sharp bank! Ohcrapohcrapohcrap…
"You want me to dig in your pack -while we're flying?-" Skye blurts out with all of the hallmarks of a person trying to exclaim 'are you nuts?!' Voodoo might have some other reason to grunt in pain as Skye is Not. Letting. Go.
But she is getting a free phone out of the exchange. This one has less blood on it!
Oh good, and they're going back to her van. She'll feel better having something a bit more familiar and maybe being reunited with the feeling of being in control of her own life again. Tonight has been an absolute MESS.
As the bike pulls up next to the van Skye makes to climb off of the back and falls straight to the ground with an "OOF! I'm okay—! We have touchdown. …Ow…"
The order to get going has her holding a weak thumb up in the air. "Gotcha… Message received. You should..get out of here… I don't want you to..see me getting sick."
*