Chaos and Destruction


brian_icon.gif eve4_icon.gif hana_icon.gif lashirah_icon.gif megan_icon.gif ryans3_icon.gif

also with an appearance by… gabriel_icon.gif

Scene Title Chaos and Destruction
Synopsis In response to recent executive orders, the Ferry's Special Activities Division hastily enacts a raid to destroy some robots.
Date October 18, 2011

Staten Island Reclaimed Zone

It's the early morning, the kind that still feels like night time, and sounds of construction drown out any chance of coastal bird song or the lapping of waves against sand and concrete. Floodlights make bright certain spots and deepen the shadows of others. This area of the Reclaimed Zone of Staten Island is forever a theme park of demolition and rebuilding, with decaying residential suburbs crushed under compactors and skeletal buildings of unknown purpose in their stead.

This is further away, closer to the highly secure Eltingville.

The site they are targetting has less evidence of human life, at this hour. The facility is a repurposed warehouse, lacking in any obvious identification, and looks flat and innocuous from satellite imagery. But weeks of monitoring have managed to track the shipment of parts that transform into whole bodies, shipped to Manhattan and beyond. The demand must be outweighing supply. Points of entry: the large rolling doors that lead down smooth concrete towards a docking area. Rooftop entry, side doors, all locked and sealed. No humans appear to be present.

But there doesn't need to be. In the gloom, something approximating ten foot tall comes swaying out of mist and shadows in its routine circling of the premises. The Sentinel four legged, long necked, and a snake-nest of blue sensors flood out of its strange, equine maw, tasting the air as it lumbers by. Steam, occasionally, jettisons out between super-hot metal ribcage. There are three of them.

Inside, the space is mainly taken up by more robots, ready to ship. These are the attack editions, a grid of four by ten, all settled on their haunches, eyes dead, perfectly still. Cat-like, prehistoric, with needles protuding between their fangs. They are attached to some kind of power source, each with a cord from their midsections that snakes up into the rafters. The sound of generators are loud, and seem to vibrate along metal walkways.

The plan had seemed simple when he explained it. Get in, destroy it, and get out. Now as he crouched behind a crumbling wall, looking out a the scene before him, there might be a slight glimmering of doubt.

Not that he will show it.

He watches the movement of the giant tentacled robots for several long moments, through a pair of binoculars. Hair shifting in the light breeze, his normal long jacket has been replaced with something more mobile, with a Kevlar vest under it. "Alright." He starts quietly, passing the binoculars to the Brian next to him, his voice deep enough to carry to the others. "First challenge is those giraffe… Squid things." Really scientific Ryans. He turns to face the rest of them, crouching down to open his pack. He pulls out an explosive about the size of his hand. He offers it to Lashirah, once she takes it, he pulled out another, which is offered to Megan. "From what I understand we will have one shot at this, but since the three of us are non-evolved. I think we have a chance to get in there."

Lashirah takes her explosive. She's wearing a vest herself again, and is glad of it given her past experiences. "… Big buggers. Any ideas for a good way to distract them since any Idea I have for downing them is either too loud or requires skills I don't have." She keeps her voice low, and her eyes are darting about with professional focus. Lash, it seems, is back in her groove.

Megan takes the explosive with a cautious hand. She's not as comfortable with these as she is with a rifle. Bulletproof vest aside, like Ryans and Lash, she is damn squishy and she knows it. This is the part of the plan she is less than thrilled with. But she nods.

Blue eyes flicker to Lash. "They're going to ignore you right up until the point where you're a threat. So walk casual." She rolls her eyes at her own words. "Sounds like fucking Star Wars. But seriously. If they spot you, just keep walking. As long as you're not charging them, intel says they won't mess with us. You'll want to approach from the rear, flank them, and attach it to the ass-end." She looks at Ryans to make sure she's got that straight.

“Do you think they have a soul?” comes Eve Mas’ voice in the ear of one of the Brians. Peering through her own binoculars she shakes her head. “Listen to the Lion. He knows what they can do. Midtown is full of them..” The seer frowns, it’s become harder and harder to stay in Midtown at her father’s warehouse some part of her wants this attack to help alleviate the stress these things are causing in her neighborhood. Not that it’s very likely. Dressed in armor as well and her hair pulled back into a tight bun with two pins stuck in it this Eve is an Eve not always seen. She nudges a big black duffle bag at her feet and hefts the shotgun loaded with some kind of electro shotgun slug by a taser company. “I have a present for one of you in there. For when things get rowdy.” Said to Brian before she puts the binoculars in the bag revealing a long.. green tubey thing. When. But you don’t need to be a precog to know shit is about to hit the fan.

"Llamapus." Comes the correction Ryan's identifying term. The binoculars are received from Ryans and Winters holds them up briefly at the obstacles before them. The binoculars are handed off to the next Brian, and then the next, until finally they are handed to Megan. The small squad of replicators are dressed in dark colors. Kevlar isn't used. No point in risking the valuable resource. As Megan speaks Brian tilts his head.

"I would imagine once you cross a certain boundary you will be deemed a threat."

Four Brians are holding riot shields in one hand, a pistol in the other. The 'lead' Brian wielding a shotgun. "I'm up for being team distraction. And if my evolved colleagues want to do their very best to help me not die that would be much appreciated."

Listening to Eve, "I mean. No. Right?" Looking down at the dufflebag he nods. "Sure, that'd be nice. So.. If team walk on in starts walking on in, and the alarms go off.. They'll bring in something more nasty. I very much doubt any old civillian could just waltz all the way there. You probably have to have a badge or something to get in, right? So. Either we accidentally trip the alarms or very intentionally set them off." Winters shrugs. "Or we can try to sneak around them.."

Hana watches the oversized robots lumber around their patrol, one by one. She's kept one pistol and one knife, but traded the rest of her usual armament for less conventional gear — bolas, lead weights on steel chain; a handful of flashbangs; and a heavy baton. She's left the long-distance gear to others, because Hana can do close. Of course, if she had her rightful ability, that would be a lot better — but the situation is what it is.

"If we sneak in, we'll still likely have to fight on the way back out, once the sentinels are alerted." And that assumes they can all sneak successfully. Hana glances at the rest of the group. "If one charge will topple them well enough, we should split up, ambush two at once." Two, not all three; there's strategic, and then there's stupid. "Let the non-Evolved try to get in close — sneaking or not — and have the rest of us as backup. Dispatch the first two, then we have numbers on the third…

"Assuming nothing comes boiling out of the warehouse, that is." There is that possibility.

The three Sentinels continue their rounds. Lazy clockwork that nevertheless covers far too much perimeter for comfort. Sensors dance, steam rises, and their strangely delicate, rubber hooves nevertheless make solid impact with the ground with each stride.

Maybe someone's voice catches on the wind, as the nearest one turns its head, sensors questing, but not enough to yet break its stride, continuing its course. Enough to indicate that it has a curious personality.

Ryans gives Megan a short curt nod of approval at her words, pulling a beanie onto his head. As scruffy as he is it makes him look just about homeless. "You were listening." He teases, though it comes out flat and even in tone. His own charge is tucked into the pocket of his jacket, before he rises to his feet again.

He is tucking a detonator into his other pocket, when he says, "I am going out first." The look he levels at all of them, even every single Brian, says there is no argument. "See how they react. A single human, stumbling out into the ruins will be different. Then all of us. Find a way around like Megan said. Attach those." He takes a moment to glance out, then ducks his head.

"No more time to talk about it." He warns, before he huddles down and stumbles out from behind the wall, bumping his shoulder against the wall, in view of the robot, like he might be drunk.

Oh look! A simple homeless man. Pay him no mind. Nothing to see here.

Lashirah nods, and hunkers down for the moment. If Ryans doesn't set off every alarm in the world, she'll likely be up next to trying to make the second fake-horse-thing go flying sideways, still she's in no rush to challenge the big superheated machine.

The redheaded former soldier rolls her eyes. "Air Force — we work SMARTER, not harder. Of course I was listening," Megan retorts in that mild tone of reproof.

She waits for Ryans to make his way out there, and when he's far enough out there, she moves at a 90-degree tangent, crouched low and behind cover to get to the position where — assuming everything goes okay — she'll be able to flank one of the others and stick a bomb on its arse.

“But..but..” The oracle doesn’t have a real answer to follow that.

“I like the Goddess’ plan.” A shift nod is thrown Hana’s way. “We backup as the normies go ahead and kablooie the first two.” A slight bit of nerves crawls into Eve’s stomach, those claws look sharp. As Papa Lion speaks and levels them all with a stare Eve shuts up and straightens her back. “Aye aye captain.” Before tugging one of the Brian’s sleeves. “This way.” Eve juts her head out in the direction that seems to lead around to the position they need to be in. Hefting the duffle bag on her shoulder she looks up at Brian with an innocent expression before following after Megan.

"Well we've gone over every contingency. Analyzed this thing from every angle. I'd say we're ready." Light exhalation of laughs come from the four other bodies with the same face until all of them frown in unison. "Laughing at your own jokes seems even tackier when you have more than one body."

The four with the riot shields prepare themselves to launch into a run after their non-evolved associates on a moments notice. Brian with the shotgun follows Eve quietly. "So. I don't remember you going nuts with the nicknames last we saw each other. Is that a new thing?" He lowers his voice as he steps in line with her. "Also, I don't think they like being called normies."

A test is… well, not the worst idea in the world. Just one that leaves Hana waiting, which she admittedly would have been either way. Keeping one eye on the scene playing out before her, Hana moves a few quiet steps over, poised presence shadowing Lashirah. She'll jump the wall in a heartbeat if need be, but for the moment assigns herself as support to their third non-Evolved compatriot.

The chatter might get a flicked ear if she were a lioness in truth; as it is, Hana doesn't spare a glance, for all that she hears.

Curious Boy stops, then.

Above, it's beginning to rain, so you know things are about to get real. It's a friendly light patter. Each droplet that strikes metal flank is evaporated into steam, so when the Sentinel pulls away from its designated route, it takes its own fog with it, streaming in its wake. Tentacle sensors have stopped wavering and are now trained in Ryans' direction. Closer, closer, and then it halts some feet away, perfectly still.

Nothing happens. Not outwardly, anyway. The other two, meanwhile, have also drawn to a strange halt, though their sensors continue to weave in the air. It might give Ryans, or anyone, time to act, as the seconds go by.

Which proves to be a good idea.

A sound like a fog horn suddenly lifts into the air from the one standing in front of him, loud enough to make his teeth vibrate in his head, or give the illusion thereof. Now, they have a deadline. When that deadline is, is only for curious boys to know.

Shambling closer, but not in a straight line… actually… angling slightly away from it, Ryans is startled a little by the sound. Crap. His head instinctually ducks away from it, mind racing to think.

Well. Now they know.

The former Company agent continues as a distraction, only hoping that the others move fast enough to attach their bombs. With the jig up, he straightens and turns to look at the beast. Since, he knows it doesn't have weapons he starts towards it, walking, arms out. They just need time to act, but he also doesn't want to get too close. "HEY!" Yeah… he's doing that. "What's your problem?" Just need to get close enough to thrown his own devices at the last minute.

Lashirah is moving as soon as the sound hits. She's already lined up her target… and is trying to stay -out- from infront of it's seeking line as it's attention goes towards the angle Ryans has drawn in the robots. Hopefully -that- will keep them busy… as she… tries… to slowly… sneak up.. on the second one. Ideally, she wants to be close enough to tape the damn explosive to its hind end. She'll settle for 'can toss it into the super heated ribs' though.

Shit. Shit. Shit. It went to hell a lot faster than hoped. As soon as Ryans starts making noise, Megan's out of her cover, heading straight for the flank of the last machine from an oblique angle off it's haunches while ripping the protective sheet off the back of the explosive so that it will stick to the surface (hopefully) of the beast. It's not a long run, and she's quick enough — but it just depends on what those sensors are actually looking for on each robot.

"I don’t really know.” Is the straight answer given to Brian as she walks with him. “Sometimes my brain leaks and I forget things but with the nicknames things stick! Mostly.” She whispers to her former and now current teammate. The normies comment doesn’t get a reply because she means it in a lovely way! And also there’s a foghorn which makes Eve yelp in surprise. Ironic given her ability. “Oh..” as she stares across at Ryans and the robots, “Shit.” Running forward to a nearby place of cover she ducks down and begins to unload her gifts. Whistling she takes out a smaller bag and lifts a grenade out of it, tossing another to Brian. “First ones for distraction.” And without further ado the Italian nutjob lobs a grenade the furthest from anyone in the hopes that it will call for the robot’s attention.

As soon as the grenade is in the air she’s up and aiming her shotgun for cover If one of those slugs hits the robot..

Flinching some at the foghorn, the four shield-Brians move out to the left. Keeping something of a shield wall they set up, pounding the shields into the rough terrain.

"You know what they say." Brian gives Eve a light smile, free hand giving her shoulder a light squeeze. "No plan survives contact with the llamapuss." Quickly flinging his hand up he manages to catch the grenade. It looks like some lecturing might be coming down the pipeline but he manages to resist giving her a nod. "Right." Shotgun in one hand, grenade in the other, Brian starts strolling after his shield weilding compatriots. Allowing the scene to play out a little more before intervening. No one seems to be in extreme danger. Yet.

Hana isn't really surprised when the sentinel sounds alarm — not in the existential sense, anyway. There was going to be one, sooner or later, and it's usually sooner. As Lashirah sneaks out, Hana lets her get some distance and then strikes out on an angle that points her towards the front of Lee's target. Crouched, minimizing her profile, Hana isn't yet trying to attract the robot's attention — but she will, the moment it seems like a distraction is needed to facilitate Lee's attack, and readies a flashbang towards that end.

Hana also keeps a thread of awareness on the building that is their ultimate goal, because where there is an alarm, there is usually also backup

The alarm has a few purposes. One of them is to frighten.

This does not work as effectively as it might on your average drunk civilian, turns out. The Sentinel stands there while it blares its horn, which finally stops by the time Ryans is getting in range. Sensors weave in the damp air, as if thinking, before it lumbers closer, raising one leg — and even in this light, Ryans can see the way its foreleg ends in a sharp, knifeish point, unlike the blunt hooves of its backlegs — and makes as if to slam it down as if to skewer him. Blue sensors glow red in the moment it rears.

Good thing he has a plan. He does have a plan, right?

By now, the other two have begun to head towards Ryans to help intimidate the intruder back into the shadows, giving those flanking them something of an advantage. One slow, one fast. Megan gets the attention of her target first, but it barely has time to pause in its lumbering gait before Megan affixes the explosive to hot metal, smoke and burning plastic immediately buffeting in the rain.

Aggression seizes it as soon as contact is made, and it turns on the spot to pursue her, the gentle blue glow of its sensors suddenly going crimson. The explosion suddenly knocks it sideways and off its pursuit of Megan, a leg buckling, flames dancing along its metal edges. Its head whips wildly, sensors going dim.

The third one, being targetted by Lashirah, by Hana, turns glowing red sensors in Lash's direction.

As the big metallic beast rears back, Ryans takes an involuntary step back, away from that rather deadly looking foot. He still needs to attach that bomb, but he might have to abandon that idea, for his like. Then something Megan said, clicks in his brain. His eyes narrow at thought.

Star Wars.

One foot steps forward, followed by the other, before he can even think about whether this is a VERY BAD PLAN Ryans is sprinting straight as the… squid… Llama… thing. Boots splashing in the gathering rainwater on the ground. Reaching into his pocket, he extracts the incendiary device in his pocket. He has only one chance at this.

His path takes him between the deadly metallic legs, doing his best to dodge those nasty looking feet. Making sure to duck his head to the side, away from the heat coming from the robots chest, he reachs up with his hand and slaps the bomb to its chest. There!

He doesn't dally there, instead, he throws himself through its back legs, scrambles back to his feet and runs. Hopefully, getting far enough before it blows.

As the third sentinel turns towards Lashirah, Hana pitches her flashbang at it, aiming to detonate it by the robot's head. In the instant after, she charges forward, no longer attempting any subtlety. She plucks lead-weighted chain free, holding the bolas low, and uses the momentum of a step to speed the missile on, casting it overhand at the robot's long, slender legs. In an ideal world, the chain will wrap, the autonomous device lose its ability to stride; success would be a testament to luck under these conditions: the distance ever narrowing, a hasty throw. But even barring that, the robot will perceive a greater threat in her than in one non-evolved creeping through the dark.

Hana's still moving, now sliding her leather-wrapped steel baton free. Although her plan is not actually to close in and bash the thing, at first choice — just to keep it turned away from Lashirah, giving her ally the needed opening.

And, assuming the opening works, as Lash knows to turn her head to -NOT- be looking at the bright shiny thing, A MUCH more explosive surprise will be under this thing's feet in a damn moment and a half. Rifle work is way more Lash's style. Or pistol. This? This is gonna be seat-of-the-pantsing it… Though, as Hana might observe, while Lash doesn't have a -long- throw, she has a very -accurate- one.

"Oh, bollocks," Megan has time to mutter. Auggie'd be proud, she used the correct curse. The crimson light of the sensors lights up her features and the machine pivots way the hell faster than anything that big should be able to move. Although Megan darts away at an angle that should be next to impossible for anything but an actual CAT to manage, and despite the fact that at the last second it is disoriented by the blast from its compatriot, she doesn't get quite out of range before the explosion from her bomb topples the critter. The concussion from the blast isn't that big, but it's big enough to send her ass over teakettle, landing hard against one of the concrete barriers that they were using for cover on the way in.

Stunned, the redhead lays there for just a moment, and then she's pushing up from the ground rather painfully to get the rest of the way behind the barrier. Whatever damage she may have taken, the redhead yanks on the rifle still strapped to her back, bringing it around to her front and using the concrete half-wall as a brace for it as she aims.

She might be out of the running for going into the building, but she's obviously still in commission enough to keep watching the team's back.

The cacophony of two explosions in quick succession makes the entire area shiver. A third, when the one Megan downed erupts from its powercore, an incendiary blast that heaves smoke up into the air, killing it completely. The first is dead by the time it hits the ground, fuel spilling, burning, the chemical stink of it sharp against the rain-sodden air. The second is only broken, mechanical screams of legs trying to get back up, but malfunctioning, sparks flying. Too late, a gust of negation gas lifts into the air, but is easily evaded.

In the noise of it all, it would be easy to miss the way a trap door rolled backwards near the entrance of the warehouse, but easy enough to catch for those not desperately dodging for their lives, for those who have been tracking the possibility of further chaos.

The two cat-like attack bots stroll out like they own the place, fluid and in perfect unison, the elegant lines of metal shoulder blades working like pistons. Their eyes glow a queasy green, and liquid wells at the tip of the needles jutting out from between their metal fangs. Odd metal tails flick to and fro, casually. Time to murder everyone in the vicinity, obviously, one splitting towards the 'smell' of gathered Brians and one precog. The other takes another direction, possibly for where Hana will be recovering from her last attack.

Shadow, thick as ink, is all at once entering the scene, racing across the ground. By the time it rears, takes on solid form, Gabriel Gray has gained enough preternatural momentum to slam his entire self into the cat's side with a thump of flesh to hot metal that, miraculously, does not simply break every bone in his body, but knocks the robot off centre, onto its side.

He'd told Eileen he wasn't the Ferry's attack dog. Then he decided he'd watch at a safe distance. Then he couldn't help himself.




It’s like the party inside Eve’s head but on the outside! And she flinches each time an explosion goes off including her own. And then robots are being killed, we’re winning! Eve cackles and stomps her foot as Megan and the others take them down. With the emergence of the cats Eve gulps, “Nice kitty.. Baloo would love to have you as his big kitty brother. Nice kitty..” and as the big cat bounds their way she lets off a shot from her shotgun in the general direction whether it could have hit the cat or not is up in the air.

As the smoke clears but the shadows thicken a shiver crawls up Eve’s spine and she stares as Gabriel appears out of the dark to take care of the cat heading towards Hana. “Tick Tok.” She whispers and a smile quirks at the end of her lips before she shakes her head and crouches down a nervous glance up at the Brians. “This is your Christmas and Birthday gift! Monty had so many things before he got picked up!” Hurriedly she reveals a sturdy but portable RPG that she tosses at the Brians. “RELEASE THE TORPEDOS!!”

Continuing to watch all the llama fun, the crew of Brians watch patiently as the explosions sound out one after another. Though the team of them shift visibly as the cool cats come to play. The four shields are set in a wall and ground into the dirt hard. Each of the men behind the shields placing their feeet firmly.

Behind the shield, Brian leads Eve a little to the right so the squad of shielded Brians are between them and the cats. His grenade is handed off smoothly to the Brian in front of him. He turns just in time for his hands to fly up and catch the rocket launcher flying his way.

A frown. "Eve. If you survive this we're going to have a talk about throwing explosives." He reprimands gently.

The Brian on the shields flicks the clip on the grenade. Shield goes straight up. Brian waits for a moment. Then going to one knee, rolls the grenade under the shield towards the approaching Catbots.

The Brian with the rocket launcher hesitates, closing his eyes and focusing on the building. "Eve. I'm going in with this and my shotgun. These three will stay with you. We'll try to kill the cats out here and I'll take this to make sure we can finish blo—" Time up.

Shotgun shouldered, Brian starts sprinting towards the building after the blast, hugging the rocket launcher to his chest.

The concussion from the explosion, of his own target, catches up with Ryans as he runs. Sends him tumbling, arms moving to cover his head, out of instinct. Once he is down, he hazards a look towards the robot, allowing himself just a moment to feel that victory. Nothing but a twisted pile of metal is left. Noted.

The squeal of metal from the still 'living' robot shakes Ryans out of his thoughts. He rolls onto his stomach and pushes up to his feet. The situation is assessed with a quick glance of blue eyes, even the arrival of someone rather familiar to the old man… not so old man… Brows lift in mild surprise. However…

There goes that solo Brian. By himself. Towards the warehouse, but now with more Ryans. Though he didn't manage to have a rifle with him, a hand gun appears from under his jacket, as he moves to catch up.

Seeing Lashirah toss the explosive towards their downed target, Hana pivots abruptly and sprints for cover, or at least distance. She still gets thrown when it goes — eats dust, barks her head and the edge of her forehead on asphalt. The raw skin stings fiercely, blood welling slowly, and her ears are filled with a ringing that outcompetes most other sounds; Hana acknowledges the complaints of her body, shoves them aside.

Dark eyes lift before the rest of her does, checking — allies, robot wreckage, new company. Hana picks herself up, and the baton that had slipped free of her hand too, tucking it away now that there's nothing immediately before her to hit. She gestures for Lashirah to go around behind her and on into the warehouse, as she's the one with charges; for her own part, Hana orients herself on the nearest cat — and the unexpected compatriot currently whaling on it. Slipping another bolas free, she edges around until a likely angle opens up, then launches the weighted chain at the smaller robot's legs.

Lashirah herself manages only to duck back around the corner of some cover herself… and even -that- leaves her eardrums complaining as the rock and roll happens. Then she's off like a shot for the doors… after all, she has shaped charges inside her jacket for finishing the night's colorfulness off… But for now, a handgun is in her hand as she runs, keeping alert as the feline gets… beat down by a somewhat familiar face. Huh. Moving along…

The sight of the shadow engulfing the area brings Megan's weapon around — what the…. And then it's Gabriel. And though she doesn't know him personally, she knows of him and has at least seen the man. So she doesn't fire in his direction, letting him do his thing. She has to trust that between Gabriel and the remaining explosives people, the cat-bots are covered — firing on the robots is not a smart move, we already know that. Megan's done her part of this, the rest of her assignment is to cover the group's behinds as they set the charges and retreat, and by God, she'll do exactly that and make sure her team comes home alive.

Getting into the warehouse is dealer's choice. Break a door, break a wall, either way, it's only a building.

Inside, the hum of engines and generators is a constant buzz in the air, and something unsettling is happening. The rows and rows of cats, which intelligence prior (heat signatures, recon) indicates they'd be lying dormant and ready to be destroyed, are all sitting upright. Their eyes are glowing a pulsing green. The glow of their engine likewise seems to be pulsing. Despite this, they do not react to strangers entering their lair, perfectly still beneath the cables coming down from the ceiling, wired together, vining off towards the generators.

The back row, in unison, slides up onto all fours, but do not move further, lights still pulsing.

It's probably fine.

Meanwhile, outside—

Gabriel slams his fist into pussycat face with a wild haymaker of a punch, teeth bared. He is all uniform black, silver-shot hair from past adventures, but not the crazed animal of his cloned counterpart of which no one's seen neither hide nor hair for a time, now. Cognizant, then, to Hana's approach, reeling back from the next attempting pounce as she throws the weighted chains. It catches it in its coiled launch, forcing the cat to tumble, and Gabriel flings out both of his best jazzhands and— a sudden stream of coldness, glowing blue, ice driven into its mechanics and engine.

The sound of Brian's grenades is likely still ringing in ears, the cat with a face full, eyes glowing green eyes now shattered, jaw dislocated, needle obliterated. It lies there, smoking away, before with a mechanical whine, it gets to its feet. Metal glowing at the edges, red and black, steam pouring off it, it rights itself. Blinded though it is, it settles on its haunches, and becomes airborne, several tonnes of metal flying with forelimbs outstretches, sharp metal glinting. Sparks flying. Clumsy but deadly.

“I honestly believe I saw in a dream that throwing explosives tonight would be okay!” Eve pleads with Brian as he takes the RPG to go into the factory. “If we blow this place up then it’s all good.. right?!”

As Gabriel continues to pwn the other kitty. Eve shouts, “Right hook! Underbelly! Jazzhands!” All the crumbled robot bodies in the front of the facility would have you thinking these guys have nailed it. Except for the robots lying in wait… that are probably fine. The rain falls and Eve peeks from behind the Brians shield to see Brian’s grenade land home. Kitty didn’t like that. Kitty fly.

Eve’s cheers of Brian’s grenade finding a home are cut short as the cat leaps their way. With a yell Eve lifts her shotgun as she pivots to where she can aim just around the shield being held by Brians and fires off two more shots. “Down Kitty!” The shells fall to the ground with a clank and smoke rising from the shotgun.

The blast shreds through shields and flesh as Brians go flying. Riot shields ripped through and bodies doing just about the same. The four Brians lay in a heap not too far from each other as the cat begins to recover so quickly. Jackets bound into flesh by shrapnel, three of the Brians seem as though they not make it, heavily wounded by the grenade explosion. Weakly three of them reach their hands out, fingers splayed towards the fourth.

His hand flies out to touch theirs where the three of them instantly disappear leaving behind only their torn up clothes, shields and weapons. The fourth Brian, a little banged up, quickly gets to one knee. In time to see a metallic cat flying in his direction. Claw catching him in the shoulder a visceral "oof" is let out as Winters twists from the impact and stumbles back.

Falling to his back he gasps for air looking up at the blinded cat. His eyes swim desperately for Hana as one hand weakly comes up in a looping motion. At the same time he reaches to retrieve a former Brian's pistols. He's not sure what unloading point blank on these sensors will do, but he's willing to try for science.

At the warehouse door Brian is slowing from his run at the locked door. He is lowering the RPG and lacking extra hands placing the highly dangerous weapon between his legs while he unstraps the shotgun from his shoulder. Levelling it at the door, two loud bangs are let off obliterating the door. Reshouldering the weapon, he goes to take the RPG out from between his legs with a sheepish smile back at Ryans and a light shrug.

Inside his breath catches. Eyes searching all the cats lined up to greet them. For a moment he hesitates before aiming the rocket launcher up at where the cables gather. "Yeah?" He asks Ryans, hesitating on the trigger.

Following Brian, Ryans slides to a stop; he has managed to catch up with the man, just as the other shoots the lock. That move earns a stiff nod of approval from Ryans, though putting the RPG between his legs would not be the old man's first choice.

He steps into and to the side of the replicant, taking a moment to wipe the rain water from his eyes. What he sees sends a chill up his spine. "Careful," he snaps, hand going out quickly as a warning to Lashirah as she follows them into the building.

From what is spread out before them, there is no time to place any more bombs. Blue eyes snap to Brian at the question, followed by a quick sharp nod from the former agent. "You only have one shot at this. Make it count, son." Then he is quickly backing out, motioning Lee to get out too.

From where Hana's standing, Gabriel seems to have the feline robot well in hand. Brian and Eve are still working on there, but they're too far away for her to reach in any kind of timely fashion, given that her only long-ranged weapon is a pistol; and Lashirah has joined Ryans and the other Brian in the warehouse. Hana starts in that direction, only to see Ryans and Lashirah backpedal out. Given that, Hana ducks behind the nearest cover, straining her senses for a cue as to her most appropriate next action.

Which is probably going to be either duck or bail as something blows up, if she's reading Ryans' body language right.

By the time Gabriel is done, his robot cat has twitched its last twitch, frozen solid and fused with frozen earth beneath it. Burn marks glisten on his knuckles, skin exposed where superhot metal sizzled through the shoulder of his shirt, but is otherwise as unscathed as most would expect him to be. He tips a look after Hana, watching her decision as body language, then towards where the other cat went.

The other cat has landed in a blind, thrashing heap, twitching beneath the assault of close range firearms. Its world goes dark, tail thrashing, and all its lurching attempts to get to its feet only seem to tip it back off balance.

Without enemies to detect, it finally sinks down, motionless.

Gabriel stands in place, before backing away from the building in lazy pursuit of some cover.

It’s like the Anti-Avengers or something up in here, at least in Eve’s head. As the remaining robots are felled and everyone seems to be intact. She notices Ryans and Hana backing up and going for cover. “Brian are you about to use the fuck out of your birthday gift?” She says she takes hasty steps back even further hoping the Brian is following her and that he’s gonna say yes because awesome. Bouncing over for some cover she plugs her ears and closes her eyes. “Monty said this thing packs a punch, real ball buster to some roboparts.”

Looking back at Ryans, Brian gives a deep nod. Closing his eyes for just a moment the younger former agent looks back towards the target. Planting his feet firmly Winters tightens the grip on the launcher. Giving one more look over his shoulder back to Ryans. "I got it."

He takes a deep breath, returning his gaze. Aiming carefully. Click.


"Shit. Safety." The launcher is turned over and the safety turned off, the launcher then aimed once again. "Sorry." Is quickly thrown out.

Walking behind Eve, holstering his pistols the outside Brian looks down at the cat without a target. Frowning quizzically he looks up at Eve's back. "Yep. And here.. we.."


The rows of attack cats are impervious and perfectly still as the rocket flies overhead with deadly aim, striking where the cables gather — at a source full of power, full of fuel. It strikes dense machinery and flame erupts immediately, initial explosion rocking the foundations of the building, and the cats barely have time for their eyes to lose their light before a second explosion of pure fire and fuel burns through the vacuum of the warehouse, wall to wall. Windows explode outwards, glass glittering.

It doesn't end there. More explosions as individual powersources explode from the extreme hit, forty makeshift bombs of flying robot parts wrecking the burned out interior of the warehouse, brick exploding outwards in blooms of debris, dust, and flame.

Nearby, the smoking black skull of a robot cat streaks through the air like a comet, slamming into the ground half-buried.

The ringing in ears will eventually give way to distant sirens.

As the first explosion hits, Ryans is in the process of pushing Lashirah ahead of him, hand planted firmly against her back. "Go, go, go!" He shouts, though his voice is lost in the din. They only have time to just make it to cover before the real fireworks happen. Scrambling over the wall where Megan sat up her cover, the big explosion goes off sending out shockwaves of heat and sound. Reaching the two former agents, it pushes them the rest of the way over.

That was more than anyone probably bargained for, Ryans included.

He can only hunker down and wait for it all to blow over. He can't really hear anything, but once he stops feeling the concussion of air around him, he allows himself to peek over the top of the wall. Both brows lift high enough to disappear under the line of his beanie, impressed at the destruction they just inflicted. Fingers grip the wall and he levers himself to his feet. There was no time to stand around, they needed to get out of there.

He moves to help the two women to their feet, while looking out to see who is still standing. He'd call out, but he doubted they would hear him.

The sound of a rocket is distinctive; cue for Hana to duck. Hunkered down, head shielded, she can't distinguish what all flies past her cover — only that there's a great deal of dust floating down, and she can't hear worth beans. Experience says that will pass, just as the fire and fury has. Experience also says it's definitively time to exit, stage anywhere.

Once she's mostly sure of her balance — it doesn't take long — Hana scrambles up, orients on the wall they'd started at and the familiar profiles visible past it, then checks for others. Eve and Brian are closer than she; to Gabriel, if he's in sight, the woman will give a terse nod before jogging over to rejoin the others and begin scouting their route out.

“Don’t forget the safety!” pipes the oracle with impeccable timing. Kidding.

As the building explodes in a massive way and brick and debris fly over the place and Eve while behind cover is rocked by the force of the explosion into the wall. Rubbing her shoulder, she looks around slowly at her surroundings spotting Brian and making her way over to him. “Happy birthday to youuu.” She gasps out with a light chuckle and a cough. “I think we should head out!” She shouts over the ringing in her ears to Brian resulting and more coughing. She pats her chest and nods towards the building. “Ixnay on telling Gilly about the throwing explosives.” She shouts again. “She might kill me.” Her look all but screams Please? Gaze of an innocent bystander and not the Harbinger of Boom.

Jogging over to where she sees the others Eve passes by Gabriel and does a jazzhand movement kicking her foot in the air. “I love you hands!” Another shout that’s probably not piercing the ringing in everyone’s ears. Unless you’re Gabriel Gray probably. Placing her shotgun over her shoulder she prepares for exit.

In the tunnels, the rest watch Brian down the tunnel inside the factory. The fire burning up and rushing towards him. Winters is turning and sprinting from the engulfing flame. The launcher is dropped as the agent runs towards the exit. But the fires move more quickly. The rest watch down the tunnel as he tries to escape…

Shut it.

The connection is severed the gate closed down the tunnel. Winters gaze from the body inside the factory sealed off as the fires and explosions eat up the factory.

Rushing alongside Eve and Ryans, the living Brian goes for cover with a light frown. "Sorry about your rocket launcher Eve." As he catches up to her, he motions to Lashirah and Megan. "Let's get goin. Good thing I'm the one that shot. Seems like a real design flaw. How explodey their robot factories are. I guess we should keep that in mind."

Gabriel stays for the show, finding a place to hide as bombs go off and fire reaches for the sky, the warehouse now a smoking ruin. Even his eyes are a little wide by the time he lifts his head, and he rises to his feet, emerging at a prowl into the open. He chases a look after Hana, after Eve, before turning on his heel in the opposite direction.

Suffice to say, he'll find his own route.

With a last glance towards where smoke billows up into pre-dawn sky, Gabriel vanishes into something much like it — inkier, heavier — and flutters for the razor wire fencing, seeping between its links, disappearing into the shadows beneath where the Department of Evolved Affairs sign now hangs from a hinge, swinging.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License