[ visual | location: outside "sanctuary for all" ] [ open ]

[caballero]

Bruce Wayne has kind of had enough of today; while the world of Taxon doesn't look nearly like the (artistically rendered, he suspects) Doctor's looming apocalypse, it's still in a near-cracking state. The destruction of citizens vs sentinel robots, accidentally-detonated bombs, and his own creative use of the tram have left a notable impact. Still, there is more to come - but just how much more depends on all of them.

"There's no radiation in the individual bombs," he says, and he's walking, headed straight towards the Sanctuary building in downtown Osten. "The machines are there to protect civilian life, not the explosives. If you're still here and can't get to a safe zone or on the ship, stay as far away from any sentinel activity as you can."

Speaking of the machines - they're approaching, because he isn't stopping, and neither are the people behind him, whose shoulders or backs can occasionally be seen in his broadcast. Bruce is holding something small and heavy in his hand, somehow both calm and extremely annoyed.

"Unless you'd like to get down here and help break this goddamn facility open, because the Doctor is right here."

Comments

[voice]

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Yeah, but in the future, mate. Get it right.

[voice]

[caballero]

Shut up.

[ voice - not-even-threadjacking is go ]

[orderfromchaos.livejournal.com]

You owe me a drink, if you live through this mess.

[ Because he's been waiting to say that. ]

[ voice ]

[caballero]

Well played, by the way.

[ voice ]

[orderfromchaos.livejournal.com]

I hope you don't plan on leaving him too incapacitated.

[can has threadjacking too?]

[crophisownrose.livejournal.com]

By the way, speaking of drinks--

[ voice ]

[orderfromchaos.livejournal.com]

I managed to pack a bottle or three. I just want to see to it that the man's not maimed before I descend any farther into inebriation.

[ location :: outside SFA ]

[hercandleguides.livejournal.com]

From behind Bruce, there's a woman's voice as they hurry along. Said woman is carrying a huge bag of stuff and carrying a small meter, although she recognizes by now said meter is probably pointless. "And we don't know what's going to be waiting for us inside here- do you want one of the force field projectors? I can dial down the radius, if need be."

[ location :: outside SFA ]

[cailisairgid]

"Dial it down and strap one to River," Sol advises, coming up next to Leila with River against his shoulder. "I don't want to put her down, but if I have to-" he leaves it hanging.

[ location :: outside SFA ]

[lanterncast.livejournal.com]

It's lucky that Judith happened to be in the area, if you don't take into account the fact she's been half-listening to broadcasts, and Morgana was a better lead than nothing - what she could hear, anyway.

She falls in beside the group, a battered, torn, and very angry looking young woman, heedless of propriety or the unconscious girl in the one man's arms.

"I'm coming with you," she says. So there's that.

[ location :: outside SFA ]

[caballero]

Bruce doesn't wait for a force field, not because he wouldn't benefit from taking less potential damage to his fragile squishy human form, but because it's just going to slow him down. He moves - dodges, almost too fast for someone 'normal' - and snatches a tranquilizer dart out of the air aimed at Leila's head. He spares Judith a brief glance that seems like it might be approval, and finally throws what he's been holding into the fray ahead of them. It clatters to the ground, pulses, and seems to stall the sentinels nearest it. He doesn't stop moving.

[knightflown.livejournal.com]

Having blithely (all right, not... blithely, but with a minimum of angst, which is pretty fucking blithe for them, okay) disregarded Bruce's instructions for the time being, Dick and Tim are here, not to save the day, but batarang/punch/variously destroy some sentinels. They take them down with systematic one-two hits of varying types, each executed with ridiculous skill — ridiculous because they're Nightwing and Robin right now, colored kevlar and all, but also ridiculous for the fact they are normal squishy humans.

Nightwing avoids a spray of rubber bullets with the ease of long practice, bounding in close to upend the sentinel and damage its shooting device.

[knightflying.livejournal.com]

There is a distinct lack of blitheness here, thank you, Nightwing, although really the angst level is fairly low considering they're disobeying orders and Tim is remembering how Bruce's corpse looked - but this is not the time for that. This is the time for ducking a spray of rubber bullets, letting them patter happily on his cape as it spreads behind him, and moving in close to smash the shooting mechanism with his staff.

It really might be hard to believe that they're both ordinary, variably squishy humans after this display, depending on how many other ridiculous humans the viewer is familiar with. Bruce.

[knightflown.livejournal.com]

Nightwing will have to carry all the necessary blithe for them both, then. He can do it. He's used to making sacrifices. Tim.

Another sentinel crackles and sags as an eletrocuting batarang embeds itself in the tranquilizer muzzle and sparks to life. Their body armor can stop bullets and arrows; whether it can stop sharp little darts isn't something Dick intends to test, just to be on the safe side.

[orderfromchaos.livejournal.com]

Bombs? Holmes is used to. Grey area mastermind plots? Those too. In the past hour or so he's also grown quite accustomed to the ideas of time travel and radiation and strange little sentries that pelt you with unfortunately painful bullets and darts and God knows what else.

What's stopped him in his tracks for the moment is something he's not made himself entirely mentally ready for amidst all the chaos, and that's witnessing two skilled fighters in brightly coloured spandex and capes going hand to hand with demonic robots.

He's taking a moment, here, far enough back to avoid coming under technological assault but still well in the range of sight (and possibly sound) to wonder if this means he's finally actually seen it all.

"... Well."

In the Lower Regions of the Sanctuary

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

continued from here (http://community.livejournal.com/taxonomites/268442.html?thread=15421338#t15425434).

The Doctor recoils, unprepared for the sudden slap, and even more unprepared for the presence of Morgana in his environment. The radiation begins leaking out, and he concentrates, trying to absorb all of it before it can affect her.

"Morgana, you have to get out!"

Re: In the Lower Regions of the Sanctuary

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

"Who are you to give me orders?" Morgana's upset, hurt, and most of all, has the person solely responsible for that within distance for a decent, proper punch.

"All you've done is terrify me!" Yes, there is a lot of built up rage in that Lady of Camelot.

Re: In the Lower Regions of the Sanctuary

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He reaches out, trying to catch her arm and move her away. He takes a step out of the environment, trying to pull her with him. "Leave, now, you've done enough damage to my plans, stop doing it to yourself, too."

Re: In the Lower Regions of the Sanctuary

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Morgana's not a willing participant in going anywhere. The problem is, she's hurting even more (and really, the slap was self-righteous, but her arm's already hurting from the sentinels). As much as she tries to dig her heels in, she's easily dragged from the room.

[ outisde | aftermath ]

[caballero]

This poor girl - woman, really, but she seems so young even in her bravery - Bruce thinks about radiation and the beating she's taken from the machines all on top of the hell her system's laboring under thanks to the now-departed Crane's faulty prescriptions. There are benches near the tram station and he settles Morgana's unconscious form onto the first one he cones to, checking her vitals. He spares a glance to commiserate with Sol - not a bad guy, honestly - before digging his tablet out and turning it on. It only takes him a second to select a secure channel, something he'd already hacked and programmed into the device.

"Enfys," he says, hoping she's got it turned on. "How close are you to my house?"

There's no are you all right or are you still here. Maybe it's trust in her. Maybe it's complete refusal to accept anything else.

[ outisde | aftermath ]

[cailisairgid]

The antiradiation treatment is a little beyond Sol's abilities right now - it's understandably not something he's been called upon to heal before and they'll have to wait on an actual doctor instead of a Verbena healer who doesn't specialize in healing in the first place - but he can take care of the beating she's taken and he briefly hopes that she's not going to wake up ready to enact a witch-hunt for his help.

(The burning times weren't quite so long ago for everyone, let's say.)

He grimaces back at Bruce in commiseration and then, setting River carefully down next to him, he kneels by the bench to find Morgana's injuries with bloodsight and do something about them. After that, it'll be a matter of antiradiation meds (and they could probably all use a course, just in case).

[ outside | aftermath ]

[dieneidio]

After being separated from Judith by means of the explosion that flung Enfys backwards into a wall, well- Slayers are built to withstand that kind of knock-around and she got up again, even if she hadn't been able to find her friend afterwards. Yet. With her axe in hand, she's been taking out sentinels and trying to avoid being sedated by them, and she fumbles a little for her tablet when she hears Bruce asking for her.

She looks like hell, but not as though she's letting that slow her down or even ruin her mood. "Three minutes if I run, you need something?"

[ on the move | aftermath ]

[dieneidio]

After leaving Trixie, Sol and their two unconscious charges behind, Enfys starts thinking of who she should be looking for that she knows can drive a car and be trusted to ferry the injured if need be-

-that looks like Dean. She briefly weighs it, and then figures that he's probably not bad in a fight, either, if they need sudden security on the ambulance rotation. She's willing to bet he can handle a car (Enfys herself is great on a bike and not be trusted with anything that has more than two wheels because she treats them all the same).

"Hey," she yells, coming up behind him to overtake and get in his damn way, "Dean!"

[ on the move | aftermath ]

[fudgingkillyou.livejournal.com]

Somehow Dean has managed to lose Toby, Judith and Sam, and he has no idea how. They've just up and vanished on him, and he's actually pretty worried, though he's shoving that back and keeping it bottled up, masking it with irritation. He's trying to figure out what the hell happened to all of them when he hears his name being called, and he glances over his shoulder to see who it is.

Oh, it's Enfys. Good, good, she's okay, one more person to check off his list-- he flashes her a quick grin and lowers his gun to his side, turning fully to look at her.

"Enfys," he greets her, giving her a two fingered salute. "Good to see you in one piece. You got any updates on what the hell is going on right now?"

[ on the move | aftermath ]

[dieneidio]

"It's all over but the shouting, sweetpea," she tells him, leaning her foot on the ground now that she's come to a spot. She looks...like she's been through about five kinds of hell, actually, but it doesn't seem to bother her to be dirty and knocked around and a little bloody in places; really, she looks the most comfortable in her skin that anybody in this city has probably seen her. That's distressing.

"Get on the back, I just volunteered you to play ambulance driver. We're going to Wayne Manor to pick up the Rolls for you and then I need you to go pick up Trixie and her new friends and patients down outside the Sanctuary For All. Think you can handle it?"