hfm_logs | Gather Up Your Loved Ones, Gather Up Your Friends

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*event

Gather Up Your Loved Ones, Gather Up Your Friends

Warnings: Nox. So many Nox. All of the Nox. And also violence.
Location: All over the city
Characters: Everyone, and also so many Nox. Did we mention Nox?
When: Not long after the repairs on the sinkhole start
Summary: People getting kidnapped by Nox. Yikes.

The repairs on the sinkhole have been going well, but somehow, the city hasn't been the same. There's a heaviness in the air, like a thunderstorm building on the horizon. The normal sounds of a city night have given way to hoots and howls of creatures. The Nox are restless at night and quiet during the day. The local people are opting to stay inside when they don't absolutely have to go out.

Something is coming. Something big.

Then it happens, on a unseasonably warm fall day. High noon and the streets start rumbling, the violent rattling of the manhole covers loud enough to drown out thought. Then, shadowy tentacles burst out the street from every underground entrance, blindly grabbing for whoever they can snatch, overpowering their unlucky victims and bodily dragging them into the nearest available manhole or sewer entrance. If you’re lucky, you get away. If not...enjoy your private tour of the unending blackness and horrifying whispers that is the sewers.

[OOC: Feel free to play out your character's kidnapping or reactions to the chaos however you want in this log! If you want an NPC Nox to react to, just let a mod know!]

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Red sky at morning, shepherd take warning-- despite that, Aaron goes out to do some shopping and refill his ailing fridge. The entire city's on a live wire, tense and coiled. Something's got to happen. Just what. he doesn't know.

The rumbling begins, and he's finally home-- perhaps taking advantage of his still-open door, the tendrils of shadowy goop burst into his place and snare about his ankles, waist, though leaving his hands free-- if only because he's fending that onslaught off as well as he can with healing magic (and screaming for help) even as he's dragged unceremoniously out the door and down into the sucking blackness of a manhole.

And then it all goes dark.

Luckily, many pegasi instinctively take to the air when startled. Luna is an alicorn, but she is no exception.

She's quick to gain enough height to avoid the tentacles. From there, she turns around to lash out with a whip-sharp tendril of water. She can't control enough to take on all of those tentacles at once, but she can at least hinder some.

For the record-

Not how York thought he'd be spending his day. Getting people where they need to be, clearing out more debris, that kinda shit? Yeah. that's how his days tend to go lately. Air all tense and thick like something is about to happen? He remembers how that feels from back in the project. How usually something went FUBAR shortly afterward. He's got half a mind to wear his suit down to the sinkhole. Argues with himself about it for a good half hour before deciding, no, today it won't kill him to try to work as normal.

He'll kick himself for that later.

But man, if Wash is happy walking around without the armor? He can too. See? Not paranoid, not losing sleep, not twitching and waiting for something to go wrong. It's noon so they should be safe? Just. Two guys, walking to grab lunch. No biggie.

"Anyway so I get the guy there, right on the dot, where we need to be and everything and he's a little dizzy but that's normal and I warn them about that before we start jumping and he wants a discount. For distress or something like that and I tell him 'look, I gave you a heads up, you knew about this going in, you don't get a discount because you got a little dizzy' and he starts puffing up like-" Like he's some kind of big badass or something, is what he was going to say but can't because.

Shit.

Tentacles.

"Oh fuck me-" He gets one hand on Wash and half of himself ready to get them the hell out of there, thinking of the apartment, the night safe apartment when his legs go out from under him like a chump. Rookie mistake. At least he knows enough to let Wash go before they both get dragged down, kicking at the thing around his ankle, scrabbling with it until it starts dragging him down and no, fuck no, HELL no- He ports himself somewhere else, out of the grip, ten feet up the street and sprinting- "RUN!"

Wash has spent all day twitchier than normal, and for Wash, that's saying something. He's seen this sort of thing, had that uncomfortable pressure on the back of his neck, too many times for him to mistake it for anything other than what it is: a warning. Something's coming, and it isn't good. He almost pulls his armor out and puts it on - almost - before a horrifyingly vivid memory of his own death stays his hand, and he leaves it in the closet. It's essentially useless against the Nox - there's no reason to bother with it. Whether it makes him feel safer is a moot point.

(It does. He left it behind anyway.)

He's trying to tune out the feeling, act like everything is normal, smirk at York's story like it's any other day (like it's the old days, when being a team meant something and the leaderboard was a side effect of missions and not their be-all and end-all, before it all went straight to hell), and maybe think up a good comment about York putting a taxi stripe on his armor when hell itself decides to come writhing out of the subway. His first reaction, despite all his best efforts as of late, is still to go for a gun that isn't there, that hasn't been there for weeks. By the time he's corrected course, York is being dragged away, and the tentacles are reaching for him now-

"Dammit!" He lashes out with a gust of air, razor sharp, shearing through the darkness coming for him and prompting a bellow of rage and agony from down below. He doesn't care about that; York has disappeared in the blink of an eye and reappeared further away and Wash does not need to be told twice right now, taking off as fast as he can behind York. "Find high ground!"

"The HELL do you think I'm doing?!" Up. He needed to get up, he needed to get Wash up- like hell he's leaving the kid (not a kid, not anymore and that still feels five kinds of weird but he's not leaving him behind for anything) for the tentacles to grab. He darts left and ports right, hand extended for Wash to grab. "I can get us to the roof come on-"

Wash's priorities are exactly the opposite: his magic lets him fight the Nox, whereas York can't do anything but run, so he needs to hold the line until York can get out of here. Right now, it looks like they might be able to accomplish both, and he runs for York, reaching for his hand-

And stopping just short as a tentacle he'd missed snakes around his ankle and holds tight, sending him sprawling hard on the pavement, stunned. It's a moment before he can get his thoughts back in order, and another before he can focus enough to bring his magic to bear; unfortunately, that's more than enough time for the darkness to tighten around his ankle and crawl up his leg. Shit.

He tears at it with another gust of wind and struggles to get to his feet. "Get out of here!"

He's got him. He's almost got him, fingers skating against Wash's palm as he stretches to grab him, get him out-

Yanked down and caught and no. Fuck that. Fuck. That.

He'd left him once without thinking forever ago and everything went wrong and he should've looked harder. He should have tried to find him before blowing up the ship and this isn't then, this isn't that, but it's close enough that he sprints for it and makes a grab for him. That he takes the first solid port to get them further down the street. "Go- go go, jesus christ- go-"

"Not without you-"

Teleportation is disorienting as hell, but he still gets to his feet, shaking quickly dissipating darkness tentacle bits off his leg and grabbing for York's wrist, taking off in the general direction of the park. They'd be safer there - no manholes.

"Shut it and run!" Damnit only ONE of them is allowed to play the 'take the bullet for the team' card at a time and he called DIBS! He can freaking teleport, Wash does not need to stick around and help him out, he can get himself out of there all on his own.

Another port, further, higher- five feet up instead of even but he's twitchy and panicked and pushing Wash forward even as he hits the ground to keep going-

They might make it. Jesus christ, they might actually make it-

And of course that's when a gigantic fucking trunk of a tentacle hooks around his middle and yanks him backward. "Sonovabi-"

Wash hits the ground running and goes, keeping an eye on York all the while - this much teleporting can't be easy for him, and he's not about to leave York behind-

Which is when something the size of a fucking kraken snags York. Wash turns on a dime, already gathering magic and hurling wind at the tentacle. It slices into the appendage, leaving it bleeding darkness, but it's not enough - Wash isn't focused enough, the Nox is too big, and York is getting further away by the second-

"York!"

"-tch!" He couldn't get away. Couldn't untangle himself, couldn't twist free, couldn't even port- even panicked, stuttering attempts only managed a few inches before there was another tentacle- another tendril, another fucking SOMETHING dragging him down to the nearest manhole.

"RUN!" Damnit- fine. FUCKING fine. If he can't get away he'll keep the damn thing too busy to try to grab wash- flickering from limb to limb in a (futile) effort to get free and only gathering more and more of those fucking shadows till he's at the lip of a manhole and-

This is going to suck.

Wash isn't giving up, throwing wind and fury and whatever he can muster at the darkness clinging to York, but-

But it's not enough. He's unfocused; he doesn't have the precision he needs; and there are just too many tentacles grabbing at York, dragging him back to a manhole, and- no, the underground nearly destroyed Bones, he can't let that happen to York-

He hurls everything he has at the Nox, praying it will be enough.

This would be the ideal time for some sort of witty one liner but York can't think of a damn thing, scrambling and porting no more than a foot in any one direction at any given time, bound up in shadows and pressure and darkness and fuck fuck fuck it's like what happened after Tex and he can't deal-

Wash is spared watching him have a panic attack only by his being hauled down by those damn tentacles, lost to shadow.

You'd think Celestia would be no easy target, and you'd be right.

But it helped immensely that a thundering mass of shadows burst out of a sewer grate with enough volume and force to crack stone, surging like a wave over the alicorn. She had been positioned just right for them to tangle her wings as she spread them, and haul her sharply to the ground hard enough that her head smacked heavily against the pavement.

"Leave her alone!"

Fighting giant street tentacles was one thing, one wicked awesome, adrenaline-pumping, crazy-making thing. Watching a friend get tangled up and slammed against the ground? Not so much.

He barrelled through the chaos on his skates, hockey stick blazing and ready to swing. He was going to make that tentacle let go if he had to cut it off the whatever it was down under the street. He just had to get there before it dragged her under.

"Casey -- no! Tell -- the others --"

Her voice was thick and her light sputtered rather than shining. The blow had left her reeling, struggling to put thoughts in front of each other.

"I'll get you out, just hang in-"

A giant overhead swing straight to the tentacle's broadside and...it doesn't let go. Something deep underground grumbles and the appendage writhes violently, striking Casey in the chest with what feels like the force of a giant wielding a log. He stumbles backwards and hits the ground hard.

But the wind is just knocked out of him, that's all, totally not enough to keep him from saving her right? He's on his hands and knees knees, half-trying to stand, half-scrambling around to her. He can burn the shadows that are holding her- in fact that's what he should have done in the first place.

"If you get captured too -- no one will know. Tell the others!"

This was all Celestia could get out before shadow surged around her like a smothering sack, engulfing her form entirely as it hauled her back down towards the entrance it had burst out from.

"No!"

He missed. It pulled her out from under him and he missed. He missed, slapping a hand at the spot on the ground where she'd been a second before, watching helplessly as she's pulled away. The pain in his chest suddenly became acute as his heart also seized.

One last chance, one mad dash to catch it before it dragged her down. Nobody was getting taken on Casey Jones's watch.

One curling cord of shadow snapped out from the writhing mass to slap at Casey, possessing not only strength but far too much grounding in its greater whole to be easily ignored. The pony was the prize; the boy, useless.

It catches him in the side, sending him sprawling. He can't even tuck and roll, just flop all over the street and land on his equipment.

And when he manages to sit up again, it's just in time to watch Celestia be pulled under. She might hear him shouting and he races to the manhole leaning over the side, trying to see anything but black.

"I'll get help! Don't worry!..Aw, man." He got to his feet and took off down the street.

no no no no NO NO NO NONONONONONONO-!

Peridot's state of absolute panic mirrors that of the city. Why did she let them take her limb enhancers, didn't she say something like this could happen?!

Tentacles burst through the ground, out of subway tunnels and she's not sure what's louder, the destruction or her screaming, which slowly becomes more of a mantra.

"Clods clods clods clods clods clods clods clods-"

The only thing she can do now is find someone we knows and hope that they have some sanctuary from this...havoc.

OH MY GOSH HE JUST WANTED SOME ICE CREAM.

Were Greg the sort of person used to this, maybe he'd have dropped his groceries a good block or so back so he could free up both arms. As is, he's scattering seeds wherever he can. He's gotten better with his magic, this is the first time he's really in earnest tried to use it in combat, his vines barely holding tentacles at bay. Already, he's sweating from effort.

"Peridot!" He catches sight of the Gem sprinting along. "You okay?!"

"Whaddya mean, 'am I OK?!'" Peridot shrieked, "Can't you see it? The whole city is going to come down around us!"

She didn't notice his creeping fatigue, just that he seemed to be able to keep the tentacles at bay, and that was the important thing. She skidded to a halt by his side, barely stopping before she grabbed at his shirt and clung there.

"We need to leave, get out in the open, away from all this!"

She's complaining, but not about anything specifically about herself. She's not hurt.

Greg grunts, and one vine wrapped around a tentacle develops long thorns to keep the shadowy tendril from breaking free. "The--the park. I can do more there." The concrete is getting in the way of making too many more useful plant-drones.

"Then let's go!" Peridot pulls on his shirt to get him moving.

Is this what it's going to look like when Homeworld's plans come to fruition? The thought only rises for a moment before drowning in the sea of panic thrashing in her head. And when the sea gets high, the only thing to do is get to high ground, which she does by hauling herself onto Greg.

"Wooah--" Her added weight catches him by surprise, and for one bare second Greg nearly overbalances. Instead of falling, thankfully, Greg turns the stagger into a retreat, running down his well-memorized path to the park.

"What the hey are these things after, anyway?!" He gasps. "They just popped out of nowhere!"

She'll cling to him as long as he runs, providing a bit of healing magic as he runs to help with the fatigue. He needs to keep going.

"Who cares! Just keep running! We can't fight these things like we can the shadows!"

Between Peridot's healing boosts and Wash's daily runs, Greg falls into a sprint. One arm reaches back to help support Peridot's weight, while the other is still hanging on to that bag of groceries. Needless to say, he's not thinking straight about all this needless weight he's carrying.

And it makes it even tougher when a tentacle lashes out from a storm drain, tripping Greg up and sending them into a high-speed sprawl over the pavement.

Should've seen this coming. Go out on a quick errand run, he thought, grab some beer and boxing gloves and maybe a few things to get Casey a more well rounded (practical) education, he thought. And the streets are full of shadows and whispers he remembers on a bone deep level.

It hadn't killed him, last time. God almighty knows he might've preferred that to the endless void.

He's too dumbstruck to do more than stand and stare till glass shatters nearby (bye beer) and he's startled into movement, sprinting as far from the mess as he can. Not that it does a damn thing when three thick tendrils snake out of nowhere and get him by the ribs, arm, and throat.

Casey's chest was aching in two different ways as he dashed down the street. His ribs are probably bruised, his butt's all scraped up, and he's skating for everything he's ever been worth.

He'd screwed up with Celestia. Badly. So friggin' badly. She got snagged and pulled under and right now he had to get to someone anyone and regroup. His whole world has been reduced to the frantic dodge of tentacles and scanning the crowd for help, or a fight to join or-

Or Bones about to get snagged by more shadows.

Not this time.

"Bones, move!" A little late, but it was a warning more than an instruction. His arms engulfed themselves in flames and he launched himself at the shadowy ropes that were tying up another one of his friends. He'd light his whole body on fire and hug the thing to death if he had to.

Moving would be easier if he could think straight, if he could breathe at all past this icy block of terror that's got him just as tight as these damn shadow tentacles-

Casey, bless him, comes outta nowhere and if he had any kinda sense he'd yell at the kid to run. To get the hell away before he got himself grabbed but there wasn't time- there was fire and something deep underground scream'n like a demon as the bands around him go slack. Now he shook himself enough to scramble, now he sprinted the hell away from the smoldering, stubbed ends of those damn things.

Couldn't find his voice just yet but he could sling an arm out to grab him. To try to haul him away from that mess before they both got got.

Casey had just enough time to register that it worked -it worked? It totally worked!- before he realized what a bad position he was in, clinging to a tentacle that probably wouldn't even need to grab him, just suck him down into the darkness like a spaghetti noodle.

Then he feels a hand clamp down on his forearm and yank him away and he lets it, loosening his grip on the tentacle and turning out the fire. He's going to go down there at some point, that's for sure, but it's going to be by his own choice.

"We gotta go-" Oh, there are his words. He knew they were stuck in his throat somewhere, good that they've come out now instead of earlier when he needed to scream. Oh well. He hauls ass, ignoring any lingering flames or swiping shadows, shoving the next band to snap down across their path out of the way with a sharp motion of his hand and blast of magic.

"If you can clear a path, kid-" Before the rest got the memo and blocked them off entirely- that'd be great.

"I'm on it!" And he skates a few paces ahead of Bones. A fireball aimed for the base of the tentacle caused the tip to writhe uncontrollably in pain, which was not only satisfying to watch but kept them up in the air and out of the street.

Of course he still has no idea what to do except keep moving and firing. "Where're we gonna go?"

"Away!" With the bulk of the mess up in the air and out of the way- it makes keeping the hole Casey's created a lot simpler. A few shoves here and there as they make a break for it. "High ground- second story of anything, far away from the windows. They don't seem to be reaching inside."

That means somewhere that didn't lock down when there was an emergency on, which in Casey's experience was nowhere. The apartment was probably too far away with all the tentacles, but maybe they could climb through a window if they had a distraction-

A cacophony of glass interrupted his thought process. A tentacle, writing in pain from Casey's fire, slammed into a building, the impact blowing out the glass of the windows and the sliding glass doors.

Well if there was ever a sign that they had a way in- Leonard slammed a hand up to slow the fall of glass around them, nudging Casey in that direction. "Go, go, go-"

Like the kid needed the reminder. Like he wasn't the one scrambling on the edge of panic.

He does go, weaving at speed between the shards that were still at face-level and scrambling through the broken doors. The lights inside flickered and most of what had been on shelves and desks was on the floor, but the way to the stairway was...well, they could climb over the furniture.

Give him a second- He can't move all of it but he can and does reach and pull, tugging a few chairs and bullshit out of the way- enough for Casey to scoot right on through. He'd have a bit of a squeeze but they'd get in. "Stick to the stairwell, there ain't any windows-"

Yeah, this is way better than climbing over stuff with his chest smarting the way it is.

"Gettin' pretty good at that," he says, because that's better than the thought that they could probably have fought them off if everyone was together. Unless they all got grabbed together. But then they could fight them all off together and-

The rumbling was still audible outside the stairwell, though muted, and all Casey could think of to say while he climbed to the second floor was a simple, sullen...

"This blows."

Nothing seems to be bursting in and Leonard can slump against the far wall to catch his breath. It'd been like what he'd seen before but-

Bigger. Meaner. Louder. Calming his ass back down is gonna take a second but Casey's succinct understatement wrings out a broken laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, kid, it blows. Thanks for sav'n me though."

That draws a grin out of him, a smile that comes from the same place that is convinced that Celestia isn't dead. He gently punches Bones's arm. "Anytime, bro."

But there are still other friends to worry about. "...You ain't seen anyone else, have you?"

He manages to roll his eyes, rubbing the bruise where his arm was for a moment before peering over at Casey. "...nah. Soon as the tentacles came out it felt like the street cleared right quick."

Or at least it seemed like that to him. "You?"

He draws in a shaky breath. "Yeah...Celestia. She got nabbed by one of those tentacles and dragged into the sewers."

And he couldn't stop it while it was happening, because he didn't figure that the bit grabbing her wasn't the part he needed to burn. And there was nothing he could do about it now, except...

"I gotta get down there and save her."

"Shit." Okay. They got at least one person in the sewers and-

Just thinking about going down there again has his pulse racing and his skin going cold, McCOy slumps back against the wall, pressing his hands to his face to try to steady himself and slow his breathing.

Right.

"Not alone. We'll do a check in, someone will, when this is over and the streets are clear. Go down organized but- I'm. I gotta stay up here."

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Gather Up Your Loved Ones, Gather Up Your Friends

gently... sashays in here... with pain

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