modormenace: (Default)
modormenace ([personal profile] modormenace) wrote in [community profile] f20202020-09-23 03:48 pm

FINALE: Synod & Conclusion

The Synod should have ended on the 21st, but a blackout traps all the attendees in the facility. The train won't move. The Gates won't reverse. The anomaly outside would eradicate anything attempting to cross the stygian wasteland. All anyone can do is wait.

On the 23rd, a network message informs all imPorts their time has come to an end. Their presence is tearing this world apart, and in order to save it, the Resistance must destroy the Porter. All imPorts depend on it for survival, and will die along with it—
but humanity will triumph.

THE CATALYST TO
THE FINALE
THE
REBELS
ATTACK

A hastily-assembled team of various faction members rushes to the Porter's defense. When they arrive, they find that their extremist opponents are imPorts themselves. Some of them might have once been called friends. Others have remained in the shadows, sleeper forces of the Resistance. While the saboteurs continue their work, fighters leap into battle against all those who've arrived to defend the Porter.

[OOC: Please tag the above top-level if you'd like some mod-run NPC combat! We'll be able to back/tag several PCs for at least 2 weeks from today.]

Not only must enemy combatants be defeated, but a complex series of timed explosive devices threatens to destroy the Porter controls, forcing a desperate call for technical experts and finesse powers.

 

Only partway into the showdown, a minor explosion rips through the crowd and takes out combatants on both sides. An alarm begins to scream. Total annihilation has been averted, but the Porter's shields are crumbling.

ESCAPE THE SYNOD

Though the terrorists are now in custody, there's a bigger problem. The facility is no longer safe. The Gates, echoing the damaged Porter, still haven't reversed polarity. Everyone will have to escape via the Death Train, which isn't equipped for so many imPorts in high concentration. It'll need additional shielding and the reprogramming for multiple trips, which means tech-minded imPorts will have to cooperate to overcome its automated settings.

ImPorts must divide into smaller groups because the destination station at the White City may overload too. Batches of ImPorts pile together for the ride in much more cramped quarters than they're used to. Several are injured from the attack, others are dying, and it'll be a long and harrowing journey before they can reach a hospital for treatment. ImPorts steal moments for hurt and comfort, as well as moments of revelation and intimacy.

Even for those left unscathed, they must swiftly transfer through the White City and travel back to their home factions via conventional means, or risk causing dimensional chaos as more ImPorts arrive behind them.

THE QUIET

Once the Death Train arrives at the White City with the last of the Synod attendees on board, it seems like the worst is over. While anyone wanting to leave the city is free to use conventional means to do so, some choose to remain in Florida to recuperate, strategize or tend to the wounded.

For three days, everything looks like it might be returning to normal.

ImPorts are likely to resume life as usual, continuing with politicking and personal lives alike. After all, there's a year to go until the next Synod-- and despite everything, new ImPorts still arrive through the battered Porter facility.

DEATH DOME EXPANDS

On September 26th, sensors indicate a wave of cosmic radiation moving toward the White City. The reason is obvious enough: damage to the Porter has destabilized the Death Dome and now it's rapidly expanding. If it isn't stopped, it'll swallow the city within days. After that, scientists fear it may tear through the entire planet.

The White Tower immediately puts out a call for aid. Citizens of the city will have to be evacuated en masse. They plead for every imPort who is able to come forward and work to halt the growth of the Dome using whatever means necessary. If they don't work together, no one's getting out of this alive.

Most terrifying of all, the Death Dome's "cosmic radiation" causes permanent death, shredding and scattering energy and matter across the multiverse. Unshielded contact means no resurrection within this world ever again. To those who dream of someday returning to home dimensions, the mysteries of these physics is steeped with terrifying unknowns.

[OOC: Per this OOC plotting question, contact with the Death Dome destroys the AU version of a character permanently, but not their MoM counterpart. See the thread for more details.]

UNTIMELY ARRIVALS

Anyone Porting in during the Death Dome expansion, whether for the first time or resurrecting, finds the Porter facility is horrifically unstable. Heavy strands of permanently lethal entropic energy weave through visible cracks in the walls. They must escape through a Gate as quickly as possible, or risk an untimely death!

Under pressure, it might be harrowing to choose an ImPort city and faction. No sooner than they do, and step through the Gate, that they find that the world is in uproar, though their new home may well be in denial, strategically or otherwise.

UNITED
FRONT
CHARACTER
(FACTION)
CONTAINMENT
Krakoa
Anakin Skywalker
Luminary
Jane Foster
Krakoa
White Tower
Luke Skywalker
Empire of Light
COMMUNICATIONS
Krakoa
Kang
Seekers of the New Dawn
Luminary
SUPPORT
Ysanne Poirier
Northwestern Imperium
TRANSPORTATION
Luther Hargreeves
Krakoa
Minimus Ambus
White Tower (R)
MISCELLANY
Rey Palpatine
White Tower
 

Faced with a cosmic anomaly, ImPorts take heroic measures in the ground and air in Florida and beyond to save natives and perhaps even their kind alike.

[OOC: The above character 'sub-rosters' reflect the IC involvement based on this plotting form. We'll attempt to link top-levels here, and further incorporate your RP into a conclusion post on or by October 1. Feel free to top-level, and of course backtag/sandbox indefinitely!]

FINAL OUTCOMES

At the nth hour, on September 30, two ImPorts, Shouta and Tomura of Equality Before Law make it into the Porter and manage, incredibly, to stabilize the damaged Fate technology with use of reality-warping abilities.

As the Death Dome begins to shrink back to its original circumference, it leaves behind a bizarre, scarred landscape, and a fine dusting of eerie crystalline particles of inscrutable chemical makeup. It may take years before the land is arable again, but the day is saved. For now.


OOC Links

onepip: peeeeering at PADD (this iPad sucks I want another one)

FOR MANGO

[personal profile] onepip 2020-09-29 08:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[The Death Dome is expanding. That's great. Really, just GREAT, and it's taking a lot for Mariner to not just curse and grumble her way through this whole thing. She'll have to do that once it's over. Along with some drinking. Lots of drinking.

But right now she's got to help evacuate people from White City because those absolute lunkheads from the other cells decided that destroying a huge chunk of the world was perfectly acceptable so long as it brought down the White Tower. So here she is with a bunch of tech that she's working on to do anti-radiation things while trying to keep away from scared, angry people. And-or crabby extremists who would still like to have a go...

and one particular looming silhouette grabs her attention.

it's been a long time. so Mariner has her phaser in one hand first.]


Hey! Burnsides! Is that you over there?
wro: (I have concerns)

ii

[personal profile] wro 2020-09-30 12:46 am (UTC)(link)
Reeve is likewise exhausted. Having been thrown right into the thick of things, he immediately realized that his technical skills could be - quite literally - a matter of life and death, and thus it was that he's devoted most of his time to making sure that the train's settings were properly overridden to ensure that it would be able to make it to its destination safely. To say that it's been nerve-wracking would be the understatement of the year. At last some of the other imPorts noticed how worn down he was getting and sent him off to one of the other cars with a promise that they'll come find him if he's needed again.

So out of it is he that he nearly bumps right into Wen Ning as he tries to find a space in which to stand without getting in anyone's way. An apology tumbles from his lips before he even registers Wen Ning's presence, more automatic than anything else: "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

But he trails off, the gears in his brain winding down to a halt before he can finish the sentence. Aren't they both quite the pair right now...
deadwenwalking: (follow)

[personal profile] deadwenwalking 2020-09-30 01:09 am (UTC)(link)
The first response anyone will get from Wen Ning under these circumstances is a harsh glare, but he doesn't actually have the anger to back it up, so the look withers fairly quickly into tired annoyance. He keeps his arms crossed in front of him, blocking the flute from harm or theft.

"Just..." He sighs, taking a step to the side to allow the other man more room. "Don't bump me." The words don't carry much of a threat behind them. What's he going to do if they get jostled? Tear the man's arm off? They're both in the same position here, but he wishes he could be taking the train alone.
wro: (Default)

[personal profile] wro 2020-09-30 01:39 am (UTC)(link)
Reeve slides in next to him with a grateful nod, careful to keep what little distance he can in such crowded quarters. It's closer than he'd normally get to a stranger, but it can't be helped, so he just makes sure that he's making his best good faith attempt to do what's being asked of him. Once he's certain that he's got at least something of a grip on the back of the seat next to him, he turns his attention back to the man standing beside him.

This stranger looks just as exhausted as he feels right now. It's probably the pot calling the kettle black and he knows it, yet at the same time he can't override his instinctive concern.

"Are you all right?" He means physically, because at this point he's fairly certain that no one is quite all right mentally or emotionally after everything that's just gone down.

deadwenwalking: (fist)

[personal profile] deadwenwalking 2020-09-30 02:01 am (UTC)(link)
Not in the mood for conversation, Wen Ning nevertheless peers sideways at the other man when he asks his question. He doesn't feel like he should need to point out the obvious answer, so he doesn't give it.

"I lost a friend back there," is all he can really say. He's been told by more than one person that he'll be back and that death isn't permanent. This should have already been proven to him on account of how he'd had a conversation with a man he'd killed himself... but it's easy to believe that this time might be the one time where he doesn't come back. And he feels as though he would be partially to blame for not getting there in time.

His hand clenches around Chenqing and remains there.
wro: (Stand tall)

[personal profile] wro 2020-09-30 03:03 am (UTC)(link)
Ah. That's a heavy subject, and Reeve knows that any attempt he might make at comfort will likely ring hollow in the face of their current circumstances. It isn't as if he knows this man or knows anything about what happened... but, in a way, he doesn't really need to. "Back there" says it all, and lets him know that whatever occurred was mostly likely neither peaceful nor painless.

"I'm sorry," he says again, sure that it's probably at least the dozenth time this man has heard that sentiment since it happened. Even so, it's sincere, and he hopes that much comes across at least in part. None of this should have happened. None of it...

The movement of Wen Ning's clenched fist draws his eye down, and it's then that he notices the flute for the first time.

"... does that belong to them?" he asks softly, with a tone that indicates that he understands. Even though the ribbon he'd worn on his arm for so long hadn't been the actual one that Aerith had worn herself, it had filled the same role for him, and so he finds his brows furrowing in gentle sympathy.
deadwenwalking: (secrets)

[personal profile] deadwenwalking 2020-09-30 03:13 am (UTC)(link)
Asking about the flute causes Wen Ning to draw back further, as though Reeve's inquiry might be followed up by a grasping hand. Of course this is mere paranoia.

"Yes." It feels wrong for him to even be holding it. It doesn't belong in his hands, but he has to make sure it gets back into the right ones. "And he'll need it if... when he comes back." He wants to believe the right word is 'when'.

He's come back from death once in their own world. Why shouldn't he be able to come back here where it's so apparently commonplace?
pillz: (fw scheme)

[personal profile] pillz 2020-09-30 06:04 am (UTC)(link)
[kavinsky's robotically helmeted head turns a few degrees to the right to study the train in question. inside the hud, information races vertically up and horizontally across. well, if they aren't fucked. fate tech is obstinate.

the only distraction that gets him is another rumble of the ground, the station overhead. his head jerks back; he looks up. the structural integrity of this place is going to shit; he's thinking fast. david is-- awhile from cracking the code.]


'Our biokinetic,' [he repeats.] That what we calling him now?
pillz: (fw think)

[personal profile] pillz 2020-09-30 06:17 am (UTC)(link)
[oh god they're holding hands. kavinsky tells himself not to sweat, but this body is strange; not as eerily numb as his original, but sharper somehow. he feels things more acutely, but it's abstracted somehow.

he wonders if he'll have to get used to it before he gets the fuck out of here.

stalling, or something, kavinsky makes the mistake of putting on the glasses. words immediately surge into his periphery. it ought to give him a headache, but instead, it's merely distracting. it tells him that josh is relieved. confused, but beyond relieved; elated. and somehow that there's still margin enough for worry.]


They got him out. Stark, I mean.

[the minute after he says it, he suspects that's stupid. it was the first piece of footage saved to his phone, the terse communication between him and dr. strange.]
helpdesk_hero: David Alleyne  / Prodigy - From Young Avengers (Who Was This Again? (Phone))

[personal profile] helpdesk_hero 2020-09-30 02:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Really?

[They're doing this now? Fine. He needs just a bit of meat-space focus anyway.]

You're the one whose bed he was in more frequently by the time your boss, my former friend, decided to take him to task for decisions he didn't make. For holding up our stated purpose of having open doors to all youths in need.

[He feels something in the programming click into place. Good. One more barrier down.]

I may be one of those that got the man that we care for hurt, but it was because you refused to join us on Krakoa that he was off the island and put in danger.
fremde: (ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ғᴏʀ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ)

[personal profile] fremde 2020-09-30 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
It's time for the two of them to part. The younger Jonas hugs the newly-fried bomb to his chest as a portal opens up behind him. Without waiting to see what will become of him later, he steps back into the wormhole, off to repeat the time loop. It swallows him up, and with a crackle of electricity, he and it are gone.

That leaves only the Jonas with the gun. Without any further need to keep distracting David, he tosses his weapon aside. The rest of the work, David's already doing for him.
wro: (Soft)

[personal profile] wro 2020-10-01 12:22 am (UTC)(link)
There's no grasping hand, no outward motion of any sort. Instead, Reeve just smiles, giving a slight nod of agreement to those words. "He's lucky to have a friend who will keep it safe for him."

Then, in the hopes of making the conversation a little less depressing, he continues, "I've always been a little envious of people who had the time and dedication to learn how to play an instrument. The ability to bring joy to others with music isn't a skill that should be taken lightly."

Oh, he has practical skills aplenty, but something like that? Sometimes it can be far more useful than being able to repair a piece of electronics.
deadwenwalking: (resigned)

[personal profile] deadwenwalking 2020-10-01 12:38 am (UTC)(link)
There's a moment of silence before Wen Ning makes a noise of agreement. "... I've never been any good at music. My sister was..." he trails off, deciding not to follow that particular train of thought. Not when he's already focused on this loss - no need to drag up others.

"It's more than just something to play music on. A Cultivator can use an instrument to channel all sorts of energy. Mas... my friend could - can fight with this." And could control Wen Ning with it if he had to, though in the past this had led to an unfortunate incident of counter-control when they hadn't realized someone else was playing at the same time.

It's a skill that's beyond him, in any case.
wro: (With Cait)

[personal profile] wro 2020-10-01 01:08 am (UTC)(link)
"With a flute?" But, honestly, it's far from the strangest thing he's heard. After all, he uses Cait Sith's megaphone to control the robot mog the cat rides, so the idea of using a flute in combat doesn't even seem that unusual to him.

"Your friend sounds like quite an impressive person indeed. I'd like to meet him when he comes back," he says, and he means it. A person who approaches combat in such an unconventional manner, similar to his own abilities... he can't help but feel that this is someone he would get along with fairly well.

Then, remembering his manners, he shifts slightly to make sure he's balanced before extending his free hand in an invitation for a handshake. "I'm Reeve, by the way. And you are?"
goldtoxicity: (pic#12758733)

[personal profile] goldtoxicity 2020-10-01 01:16 am (UTC)(link)
[ he still jumps at the sound. every gentle knock might as well be a gunshot. josh glances over his shoulder, in the middle of running inventory on the medical supplies he has to cover whatever his powers can't fix. ]

... Come on in, it's open.
deadwenwalking: (somber)

[personal profile] deadwenwalking 2020-10-01 01:34 am (UTC)(link)
The hand gets a long stare, but Wen Ning doesn't take it. He's sure he's supposed to do something by way of greeting, but he chooses to pass on an attempt rather than mess it up.

"Wen Ning," he answers automatically. "Courtesy name Qionglin." Though he's starting to think he should introduce himself differently, as no one else aside from those from his world give their names this way. At least he's not bothered by whichever anyone chooses to use.
goldtoxicity: (000000085)

[personal profile] goldtoxicity 2020-10-01 01:45 am (UTC)(link)
[ his expression says it all. oh fuck, the raise of his eyebrows say. this is the last thing i need, the set of his mouth says.

worse still is the way his gaze shifts. jealousy might flicker across the screen as his eyes flick away, his lips pressing together as he tries to think of the right words to say. kavinsky's in shock, he tells himself, and...

and often thoughtless, even now, when it comes to stark. ]


Great. Good. You must be thrilled.

[ don't be that way. his brows tick down, quietly admonishing himself. ]

What I mean is if people are coming back all fucked up then we all need to be a hell of a lot more careful with our lives.
kraythero: (with Padme - Power Couple)

[personal profile] kraythero 2020-10-01 01:55 am (UTC)(link)
She may hate it - and he knows she does - but they both understand he's needed elsewhere. And that if she has true need for him, there is no power in this universe which could stop him from returning to her side. Still, he'd rather her have the armor - these types of things, even those like her, sometimes, especially those like her, can become targets.

He'll make them spit out their own lungs if they try.

Her slight give - all she can offer in this situation and Anakin takes a rest in this moment, knowing it's going to likely be the last one for many days. That doesn't mean he likes it, and that dislike focuses like light under a crystal inside of him, a building heat, ready to be unleashed when it was needed. "Our people are a strong and brave as we could ask for, due to you." They'd follow her lead. He didn't doubt that in the slightest. "
fridgeflower: (Default)

[personal profile] fridgeflower 2020-10-01 01:57 am (UTC)(link)
[ She enters when permitted, letting the door fall closed and setting her bag down in the entryway. Now that she's here, she's not sure how to begin, what to say... ]

Need any help with that?
Edited 2020-10-01 01:57 (UTC)
passfail: (the past remains)

me neither

[personal profile] passfail 2020-10-01 01:57 am (UTC)(link)
[It feels good, having Hizashi's hand in his own, letting him hold his hand even though all of this. A comfort, and one he needs, especially if he's going to make it through this. This conversation, this day, this...whatever it is.

Outside, he leads Hizashi away, finding a shaded alcove on the street that is half-hidden from the world by an overgrown bush, a place where they can talk, alone and uninterrupted by the chaos outside. Once they're there, he turns to face Hizashi, reaching to take his other hand as well. His head is shaking, but it's not a no. Instead, it's a...a wait, maybe.]


You aren't going to like it. But it's something that has to be done.

[He hesitates, then speaks again, looking oddly uncertain, almost vulnerable.]

I...before I tell you. I have a favor to ask.

...Kiss me?

[A strange thing to ask a husband, perhaps, but...well, there they are.]
goldtoxicity: (Default)

[personal profile] goldtoxicity 2020-10-01 01:59 am (UTC)(link)
Nah. Just planning for worst case scenarios.

[ no, worst case scenario is that there's nothing to salvage. he tucks a roll of bandages into his bag, lips half-quirking into a smile. ]

How you feeling?
fridgeflower: (Default)

[personal profile] fridgeflower 2020-10-01 02:10 am (UTC)(link)
Laurie's more afraid that letting David sleep might result in his not waking up again, never mind anything that he thinks he has to personally witness. She keeps it subtle, spreads a scent between them that'll give him a little burst of adrenaline, keep him awake and alert. He'll probably feel it later, but... He's gonna be feeling a lot of things anyway.

"Maybe it all is," she answers, tone gentle but nonchalant. "I hope it isn't, and we'll fight it, but..."

She shrugs, letting out a huff of a breath. Maybe there's not a solution. But that's not very helpful, is it?

"Sorry, I... I've had a lot of space to square with the concept of borrowed time, you know?"
helpdesk_hero: David Alleyne  / Prodigy - From Young Avengers (Default)

[personal profile] helpdesk_hero 2020-10-01 02:18 am (UTC)(link)
Of course he’ll feel it later. His whole self Is going to be fucking ruined in the worst way. David could stand to fall over and sleep for a month. So everything she does is helpful.

“I suppose you have. And I’m... lost. Kavinsky, he... died for me.”
wro: (I've got this)

[personal profile] wro 2020-10-01 02:24 am (UTC)(link)
Reeve holds it there for a moment before realizing that Wen Ning isn't going to take it; he pulls it back with just as much ease as he extended it in the first place, not offended in the slightest.

"Which would you prefer I call you?" He may not be quite sure what a "courtesy name" is, but if this man feels it important enough to include in an introduction, then it must have some sort of significant meaning in his world.
fridgeflower: (Make 'em fear you.)

[personal profile] fridgeflower 2020-10-01 02:42 am (UTC)(link)
Difficult to tell. [ She's feeling a lot at once, and it's kinda just melded into a singular lump of... something. The brown of the emotional spectrum. ]

I just wanted a moment before we ship out. To talk or whatever. Just in case this is... Y'know. It. Or whatever.

[ No big deal. She's really not trying to be dramatic or anything. ]

Page 8 of 11