Summary:A tear in reality and some honest to goodness Fomorians and a Knight of the Round Table. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Not twenty minutes ago, the alarms at WAND and SHIELD went off, advising of an interdimensional breach. The groups were scrambled and sent on their way - some by portal and others by more … traditional means - like Quinjet.
It's your usual afternoon in Central Park. The sun is shining and people are hurrying on their way to wherever they're going. One father stops as the little girl tugs his hand, pointing to the Zoo that they're passing. The animals are restless, sending a chorus of sound out over the area and of course, the little girl wants to go visit.
As the father tugs on her hand to try to get them moving, he's confronted by a 'tear' in the air about 12 feet in front of him. It's 7 feet tall, starting as just a slash but slowly widens, showing the glimpse of a paradise beyond.
That's all there's time to see, as enormous horses with steam billowing from their nostrils charge through the breach and out onto the path - the father stands there frozen in place as they bear down on him and his girl. The riders are enormous with single eyes in their heads and deformed bodies - they're brandishing clubs and axes as they let out a bellow.
*Behind* those, three armoured knights appear - clearly intent on chasing those other down. Who are the good guys? It's hard to say - what is clear is that the public is in danger.
Carin likes Central Park. During the day at least. It's a pretty nice place to get out in the sun, and just run. Plenty of room that she can do it at speed without having to worry about dodging through crowds. Really, running is one of the things in her life where she feels just…calm, in a way.
Mind, it took forever to figure out how to speed up her music to match her speed really, but soooo worth it.
In this case, however, she's coming around the corner as she is confronted with the group in front of her, her eyes widening in shock at the oncoming…knights? Monsters?
A portion of her immediately urges her to RUN. But there's the guy and the little girl in front of them, about to be ridden down…
…it won't be too dangerous, right?
There's a blur as she zips back and forth across the road, grabbing one then the other as she moves them abruptly out of the way of the oncoming chargers.
Meanwhile, at home in her apartment in Brooklyn, WAND Agent Sarah Black is next up for deployment when this latest rift is detected by the monitoring team at headquarters. Given the location and the 'Go' order, the young Brit opens a portal, the oval hole in the air framed by shifting mystical runes and geometries traced in golden light. Stepping through, she quickly takes stock of the situation. "…Bloody hell."
Agent Black is kitted out in black-on-black SHIELD tactical, with the WAND logo patch on her left shoulder, and her hair tied back into a thick ponytail.
"Hey! No fair leaving without me!" comes the shouted but altered voice of the tall and improbably curvaceous form of the figure in skintight gold-accented purple now sprinting through the portal behind Sarah, sword on her back and blaster on her hip. Because as soon as the alert came in to warn Sarah of what was happening, Sarah's girlfriend Priscilla grabbed her gear and suited up. Sure, sure, Voodoo is not at all cleared for action with SHIELD. But it would appear she cares not at all. « Incoming! » she sends telepathically as she zooms past, still sprinting.
Surely the strange unknown heroine did not just pat the WAND agent on the bum as she jogged past. That must just be a trick of the light or angles or something. Bad camera. No biscuit.
Some things are the province of mortals, but other things, well… as Thor likes to joke, when all you have is Mjolnir, -everything- is a nail. Something comes -soaring- through the air, landing on a patch of soft earth with a sound not unlike the world's biggest drum being thumped. As the dust settles, Hercules straightens from his crouch, giving the ladies a broad smile before fixing the one-eyed riders and the knights with a stern gaze. "Think -very- hard before you do something rash, gentlemen," he rumbles, casually pulling his feet free of the earth and kicking off a clot of grass. Deliberately, the Lion of Olympus cracks his knuckles, his muscles flexing.
Carin can feel the rush of air as she scoops first the father out of the way. On her return trip, she can feel the clip of the hoof of the giant beast as she's a touch too slow but she manages to shove the innocents out of the way. Her blurring movement though, draws their attention and two of those billowing, snorting beasts turn to follow her.
No, they can't see her exactly but they do seem to be able to track her - even if they are little confused. She can see them bear down on her position - and people scattering trying to get out of the way.
Agent Black arrives in time to see three people stumble, barely managing to dodge the hooves as they fall. One of the Knights calls out "Tally Ho. Stop right there Blaggard!" She might recognise one of them from MI-13 files. That's one of the knights of the round table. Those Knights turn, trying to round up one of the Fomorians who have seperated themselves from the group.
Priscilla, or is it Voodoo in that get up?, arrives to see three more Fomorians thundering down on the WAND agent. Which is just when Hercules arrives, putting a small crater in the pavement outside the zoo. The Formorians laugh. "Oh look … an Olympian. And a demi-god at that. Come here … little one … lets play." One of them actually leaps from the back of his horse and tackles the Lion of Olympus to the dirt.
Some several feet away from this, a tall dark haired woman in black leather trousers and a white bustier style top appears - joining another group of WAND agents. Her attention is focussed on the tear in reality and she's going to need the cover so others don't try to stop her.
Carin stops as she gets the girl clear, almsot stumbling from the hoof as she zips across the trail to pause, then blinks, her eyes widening in dismay as two of the creatures turn and begin pursuing her instead. Then she's a blur again, zipping backwards to curve between several trees to try and loose them before returning back towards the main path. She's not sure exactly how fast these things are yet! But damn they're ugly.
Well! That was unexpected — usually they don't try to -wrestle- him. Is his reputation not known? Do these idiots not know who he is? The Fomorian may be big and imposing, but Hercules has faced big and imposing before — and -smarter- to boot. The two roll around a bit before Herc gets the upper hand, trapping the Fomorian in his steely thews. "Hah! Not just any Olympian, you bungling cyclops knock-off. You face Hercules of Thebes this day!" Which is then punctuated by Herc physically lifting the Fomorian and trying to piledrive it face-first into the abused pavement.
Voodoo charges forward! She's not so fast as Carin, but she is far, far faster than most would ever expect. It's disorienting, really. « You work on that stupid tear thing. I'll look after civilians. » she projects to Agent Black as she dives under the charging Formorian's mounts, rolling out from beneath them as she grabs a pair of civilians with arms flung out wide more like an American football tackle than a dancer or a ninja. She apparently knows enough to be low, hitting up through the targets to put them into awkward fireman's carries as she pushes to get them further out of the way.
Well, that answers who the bad guys are. Sarah had not been about to judge solely by appearance, and assume the monstrous-looking ones were 'bad' and the knights on horseback 'good' — after all, in her first few months here in New York, she was often partnered on cases with a tall, red-skinned demon with a disproportionately-large hand.
Arthurian knights, however, are normally pretty squarely in the 'good guy' column.
Seeing the trio headed her way, Sarah opens another portal and sidesteps through it, removing herself to a better — and less-likely-to-be-immediately-trampled — vantage point. "Control, Black, on site in Central Park. We have a six hostiles, mounted, and three of what appear to be Round Table in pursuit." Her initial report given, she gestures while speaking a few gutteral, eldritch words, loosing a ram of blunt concussive force at the nearest Fomorian, hoping to dislodge it from its mount.
The horses are ugly, with what looks like hellfire coming from their nostrils and their riders? Well, they could use tips on a monobrow. What they are is fast - but not *quite* as fast as Carin who manages to weave her way through the trees and bring herself out right near where Voodoo has… um … gently placed … a couple of civilians.
She'll be able to move them to safety and hopefully give Voodoo some room to work some of her of … voodoo.
If it had been another situation, people might enjoy the spectacle of Hercules wrestling but today they aren't really in the mood. The Formorian is strong and struggles against Hercules' grip, planting its feet and 'hefting' itself upright intent on tipping the Olympian over. It gets some assistance from one of its kind who tackles the Olympian from the front.
Sarah blasts a Formorian from its mount with a well placed arcane bolt. The creature rolls to its feet and starts shambling towards her - intent on taking that threat out.
Just over there, Spider-Man, Spider-Woman and Tigra are keeping things busy and Sarah can feel as the spell casters start to weave their repairs - she might find her power called on to aid them - they're going to have work quickly.
Hercules's blue eyes flash with anger as a second Fomorian joins the battle. Twisting to plant his own feet as one arm wraps around the Fomorian's neck, he kicks out at the other's ankles, causing it to fall underfoot. "Send more! Send an -army-! Only with a challenge can a hero be tested!" He… may be getting a little overexuberant at the prospect of a -proper- fight, as he jerks the Fomorian under his arm upright and slams a fist into the one-eyed monster's face.
« Hi there, fast one. Keep working on the civilians, will you? Further away, c'mon. These bastards move fast, we need a lot of distance from them. » Voodoo projects to Carin, doing her best to speed it up so that it doesn't drag the other girl down with its slowness. That done, Voodoo leaps into doing … Voodoo. Specifically, she draws that blaster of hers and fires it several times in rapid succession at the back of the Formorian trying to close with Sarah. "Over here, ugly! Come and get some, if you have the balls!" she cries out; if they like wrassling with an Olympian, she's guessing tweaking their masculinity will get their attention. Voodoo isn't figuring her blaster is what is best needed, right now; that's why the sword is coming out. Good thing she heals well …
CArin twitchs in suprise as she stares at Pris at the message, blinking. "Ah, s-sure, yeah.." he says, looking at the two people, then back at the fight. "Right so…we're gonna go over there now…" she says, pulling at the two disoriented civilians to get them moving away in the right direction. She doesn't really have a sword or anything after all! But she's got a task that at least is distracting her from the combat happening nearby as she starts zipping between civilians to get them moving…well, running really….away from the growing fight.
Meanwhile, Sarah is cutting loose on the Fomorian she dismounted, the one whose attention she had gotten, though Pris may have changed its mind about targets with her blaster fire. She gestures again — subtly differently from the first time, and with different words — and this time, rather than blunt impact, a searingly blue-white bolt of lightning streaks from just past her gesturing hands toward her target.
Carin might be surprised when someone else hails her. Well they don't hail her directly. "Whoever that is, saving civilians. Bring them here we've a first aid station." It's a paramedic who … well, he doesn't know who or what he's calling out to, just that bodies are moving. Really, really fast.
As Carin moves away from Voodoo, one of the Formorians tries to follow her but turns as the blaster is fired. "We have balls, little girl." One of the ugly brutes says to the heroine. Two of them close on her - one with axe and one with club. Oh, and hey - they look like they know how to fight together.
Sarahs' arcane bolts sear the flesh of the creatures near her. It sizzles and burns and … is that bacon that can be smelt? … One of them turns it attention to her and starts to barrel down on her, axe swinging. "Agent Black, on my mark, portal what Fomorians you can in our direction. We're sending them home." Comes the word from a WAND agent. They must nearly have the tear mended.
Hercules … sends one Formorian sprawling on its belly. It tries to get up but stumbles a bit. He's got the second in a strangle hold now - all he has to do is 'noogie' its head to add insult to injury. The others mill around, trying to decide which is the bigger threat. The 'little girl' or the 'puny demi-god'? They decide and it's a pile on on the Olympian - hopefully, Sarah can portal some of them out.
"Agent Black, now."
On hearing the signal, Sarah opens portals in rapid succession, in front of any charging Formorians, or across the ground immediately in the path any less quickly-moving ones, so as to drop them through before their mounts can notice or change direction. This is taxing, in ways that a single portal at a time, or in a short span of time, is not, and not something she could keep doing for long. But if all goes well, she won't have to.
Well, he DID ask for a challenge. The problem, though, is that it's just an excuse for Herc to turn the dial up — and when it comes to a physical altercation, his really does go to eleven. A front snap kick that doubles one up, another one being used as a -melee weapon- on his friend, a third hurled casually at the duo advancing on Voodoo. A fourth gets headbutted so hard the -paramedic- hears the crack from where he is. When the portals start opening, Herc does his damnedest to fling his dancing partners into them, albeit not without a touch of regret. Fights always seem to end too soon.
Voodoo turns to the side, keeping one eye on each of the approaching, menacing Formorians. "Not so little, pig-eyed bastards. Come on, let's dance." she challenges them both, blade in one hand, blaster in the other, ready to meet their coming attacks. Where Hercules is brutal strength and power, she is nimble grace, agility and speed with a vicious mind and a natural awareness of anatomy of movement. Slice, there goes a tendon. Stab, and there goes the ball socket of a hip. Most would never expect the likes of her to be able to face two such threats at once. Which is not to say she escapes unscathed; only that she does not seem to care much for her own injuries if she can slow them down or stop them until they are ported away.
Carin practically appears from a blur out of nowhere by the paramedic, panting as she takes a moment to catch her breath. Sure, running fast, she can do. CARRYING people and running, that's a bit harder for someone who's a bit scrawny and small to begin with. "Sure…sec…I'll get…the hurt ones…." she gasps out, then takes a deep breath, before she vanishes again, injured people starting to be dropped off by the paramedic as gently as she can.
Voodoo dances literally - and the Fomorians can't keep up with her. Her smaller size is a bonus here as she can get inside their defenses way more easily. One brutes leg collapses as a hamstring is cut so effectively. Another tumbles over as a puncture appears in its calf.
They get their licks though and Voodoo will be a little worse for wear.
Hercules manages to use Sarah's portals like a pro-basketball player. The Fomorians are sent through in a mess of arms and legs - to tumble out the other end and be sent, unceremoniously home through another rift.
From her vantage, Sarah can see Spider-Girl in her arcane carapace - a hideous, terrifying, armored monstrosity that seems likely to have found its home in an arachnophobe's worst nightmare. And sees the spider creature attack the Knight … even as she hears the exchange between Agent Grey and the woman.
"Do you know these goons??"
"Sir Tristan of Lyonesse, Knight of the Round Table!"
Oops. Too late.
Soon there's only the heroes left - with Carin getting people to the first aid station. "Take your time. We appreciate your help." She's told. She might be surprised that they … aren't asking any hard questions. Maybe that will come later.
"Good job everyone." Comes the report from WAND. There'll be a debrief if they stick about. Or maybe they'll catch up with others later.
Carin finishes getting everyone where they need to be, having paused to reunite several couples or family group sthat were scattered by the attack, thens taggers over to a nearby tree and sits down, her back, to it as she tries to catch her breath, sweat running down her skin as she runs her fingers through her hair, fumbling at a backpack she's wearing fo ra bottle of water that she pop sopen. Before…sort of just trying to stay unnoticed. Gods and people wandering around. She shrinks into herself a bit. Well. They're all busy. She'll just catch her breath and…she'll go. Before anyone asks questions.
And suddenly, there are no more foes. Herc's shirt is gone (to be honest, he may not have had one to start with), and he looks around before slowly straightening up. "No more? Ah well, it's for the best, I think. Well done indeed." His face really does look better with a smile rather than a scowl or grimace. Seeing Carin stagger into a seated position, he chuckles and offers a wave to the speedy lass. "Ah, here come the historians, miss. Make sure they spell your name right." He tilts his head to the WAND personnel taking statements.
Once their job is done, Sarah lets her portals wink shut one by one, until she is left standing there, breathing heavily and looking a bit winded. Her eyes seek out Voodoo, and she offers a smile in that direction. "Control, Black. Situation neutralized," she reports in, as she walks toward her girlfriend.
Voodoo limps over to Sarah's side and props her up, supporting despite her own injuries; she will heal pretty quickly, but Sarah's exhaustion will be longer recovering. « Well done, speedy one. Very well done. » the purple-clad woman sends to Carin. Always a bonus to have those with faster movement powers to get civilians out of the way. "You OK?" she asks Sarah aloud.
"I'll be fine once I've rested a bit," Sarah replies to Voodoo, smiling up at the taller woman. "I've said it before, but watching you fight is brilliant, love." She doesn't mention the hits Pris took, well aware of her love's healing capabilities, and trusting that if she'd been hurt in any worrisome way, she would say so.
There will indeed WAND people asking questions and checking on people. With the other casters, Zee leans against a truck and breathes. There's a half naked native american looking girl and … is that an Oni?
It's still here … that might be trouble.
Not to mention the spiders and cat-woman, Tigra.
"Drinks and snacks for everyone over this way." They're told. "And first aid for those who want it."
Carin will be allowed to slip away if she wants to but she's likely on the radars now.