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Entry tags:
- !location: planetside,
- !plot: send in the clones,
- daniel jackson,
- dustin brooks,
- eleventh doctor,
- gaignun kukai jr./rubedo,
- hana asakura,
- hit girl,
- howard bassem,
- ildraniath,
- jalith,
- kang,
- kanoe zouichi,
- kon-el,
- lash,
- lex luthor,
- lord zedd,
- lord zetta,
- nightwing,
- querl dox,
- rory williams,
- ruffnut thorston,
- sakura haruno,
- signum
Gently, but with undeniable will divesting myself of the holds that would hold me. (Pt. 5: Chances)
The plan was...well, it wasn't simple, but it sort of was.
While the CLF attacked multiple Clone Processing centers to distract the government, the group with the CLF would target one particular one in the region that'd once been New Jersey. The group with the government would offer their services in putting down their own people.
In the center, they'd split up into several groups. One would fight a fake fight, create a massive diversion, and blow up the room where the samples their DNA were being kept in the process. Another group would secure a teleporter pad. That team would teleport out other teams to steal a ship, steal some med tech to teleport to said ship, and steal a medical database. Another team would go to the main command center and hack into the government mainframe to down the sensornet around the planet so they could escape. And Nightwing himself would accompany the clones to upload the harvested memories to the Mother Brains, left unguarded because of the diversionary fighting, and make sure that was all they did.
Meanwhile, there'd be a standing order for all teams to avoid killing other crewmates, and avoid killing guards unless absolutely necessary.
It was a complicated plan. If a single part fouled up, they might find themselves dead, trapped, or worse. But if it worked, it'd work pretty spectacularly and leave them with medtech, a medical database, the clones helped, and possibly a grateful Council depending on how the fight went, because of the ones seemingly aiding the government.
In some worlds, things that were a million-to-one-chance (exactly a million-to-one) by their nature had to work. Let's hope this world is one of them, eh, mission crew?
[ooc: Only comment to threads if it says they are open here. All threads: OPEN. Characters may get injuries up to and including 7 on the Injury Scale (scroll to the bottom). Any higher, and they must ask permission of the plot-runners, just to make sure everyone isn't immobilized without enough people to help move them.]
While the CLF attacked multiple Clone Processing centers to distract the government, the group with the CLF would target one particular one in the region that'd once been New Jersey. The group with the government would offer their services in putting down their own people.
In the center, they'd split up into several groups. One would fight a fake fight, create a massive diversion, and blow up the room where the samples their DNA were being kept in the process. Another group would secure a teleporter pad. That team would teleport out other teams to steal a ship, steal some med tech to teleport to said ship, and steal a medical database. Another team would go to the main command center and hack into the government mainframe to down the sensornet around the planet so they could escape. And Nightwing himself would accompany the clones to upload the harvested memories to the Mother Brains, left unguarded because of the diversionary fighting, and make sure that was all they did.
Meanwhile, there'd be a standing order for all teams to avoid killing other crewmates, and avoid killing guards unless absolutely necessary.
It was a complicated plan. If a single part fouled up, they might find themselves dead, trapped, or worse. But if it worked, it'd work pretty spectacularly and leave them with medtech, a medical database, the clones helped, and possibly a grateful Council depending on how the fight went, because of the ones seemingly aiding the government.
In some worlds, things that were a million-to-one-chance (exactly a million-to-one) by their nature had to work. Let's hope this world is one of them, eh, mission crew?
[ooc: Only comment to threads if it says they are open here. All threads: OPEN. Characters may get injuries up to and including 7 on the Injury Scale (scroll to the bottom). Any higher, and they must ask permission of the plot-runners, just to make sure everyone isn't immobilized without enough people to help move them.]
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But a reporter that listened to their common sense rarely found the big headlines. She watched in horror as Kon sailed through the bulkheads like they were tissue, and didn't immediately notice the clone turning its attention towards her.
When she did, however, Tana began to back away quickly. "Oh God, if you're even remotely like Kon, don't do this. Stop right there!"
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The clone's eyes glowed bright red.
...And then his head jerked upward just as he released the heatvision, hitting a balcony in the corner of the warehouse room instead, thanks to Superboy forcibly redirecting the clone's gaze. His own eyes were glowing red with rage.
"GET AWAY FROM HER!"
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Another Big Blue-level punch landed Kon in another part of the factory, but this time the clone followed up to finish him off.
It was some sort of production area, where clones were packed away in stasis in boxes to be shipped out to other parts of the country--and the world--and it was still functioning even as the factory was being torn apart by the fighting. Shipments were teleported to other areas of the factory where they were teleported to a massive teleporter pad to be shipped elsewhere.
Punch after thunderous punch sounded out in between the clanking and clacking of equipment, and Kon was the one taking most of them.
The upside was the clone only knew how to use the telekinesis at its most basic level, to add power to his punches and shield himself. But it was still stronger than him.
"Why are you doing this?" Kon ground out as his locked both of the clone's fists in his hands, trying to break his fingers. "You don't have to be what they want you to be. There has to be--there has to be something in there. Something that's just you."
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"Say something!" he shouted, punching back.
He needed him to be more than this. This was his flesh and blood, the same body, the same mind, even if the programming was different.
He had to be more than that, more than the programming.
Right?
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But it wasn't just physical. There was a pain that was starting in, running bone-deep, from the reality of his situation.
He wasn't going to be able to save his clone. It was something he was continuing to deny, but in his heart of hearts, he was starting to understand there was nothing that could be saved. Not by him.
He also knew that meant that unless he managed to bring the fight back to the others, he was probably going to die (again) because he couldn't kill his clone, either.
I'm not a machine. I'm not a machine...
And that meant that his clone wasn't one. Even if he acted like one. Even if, right now, he thought like one.
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warning for gory stuff
Panting raggedly, he tried to push himself up, left hand splayed out in front of him.
Then there was a bright, shimmering light in front of his face, and there was a pain at his wrist like he'd only once felt before. The last time he'd felt pain like that, it'd been when he was dying, when he'd had his hand taken right off by the explosion at the North Pole.
As the light stopped shimmering and he saw his wrist, he understood why it hurt the same way.
The guttural animal scream of pain that left his lips likely echoed through the entire processing center, thanks to the powerful lungs that were responsible for it.
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Luckily, none of them went off as the clone skid across them.
Kon scooted back, moved out of the way of a conveyor belt full of boxes, and edged away from the teleporter as it went off again, transporting them...somewhere.
It was a clean cut at least. In fact, if he even could find his hand, it could have likely been reattached. Problem was, it was probably halfway across the country by now--or the world.
In any case, what he had to worry about most was stopping the bleeding before he bled out. He knew if he could get it to clot, his body healed fast enough that it might close off somewhat.
Clamping down on his arm with his hand, he managed to get the spurting to stop, at least.
Looking up, though, he realized that his efforts might be futile.
His clone was flying towards him, eyes bright red.
He wouldn't stop. He just wouldn't stop.
This is it? Are you telling me I'm going to be taken out by a dime-store copy of myself--wait.
"Don't! The teleporter! Stop! STOP!"
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The clone's eyes went wide with shock as it happened, as the teleporter went off as he flew over the teleporter pad and he crashed to the walkway with a sickening, wet-sounding thump.
"Mission--mission parameters," he choked out, trying to crawl those last few feet to Superboy on his hands. "Fulfill...mission...fulfill--"
The clone stopped crawling. The dogged expression faded. The clone didn't look down. He didn't want to. He didn't need to.
"I--I don't understand."
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"Sssh. Sssh. It's okay."
A lie.
"It's okay, just...look at me. Look at me. Don't fight, just--look at me."
Don't look down at your body, please don't look down...
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He was confused. He sounded all the world like a small child, scared and confused and just learning what death was as they were dying.
That's what he was, just a day old and learning what death was before learning what life was.
"I'm scared."
Tears started to trickle out of the corner of his eyes, as he looked up at Superboy, as the shock started to set in.
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Tears pricked Kon's eyes, and his voice dropped into a gentle hush.
"Jus'--jus' go to sleep," he said, voice thick. "Close your eyes and go to sleep."
Using his telekinesis to keep pressure on his arm, his free hand, covered in blood, went to gently press through the clone's hair.
"It's okay," he lied again. "S'okay."
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It seemed like a very important question all of a sudden.
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Is this...how it's supposed to work?
Then he was gone.
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His face pale and grim, still gripping his wrist and using his teke to help staunch the bleeding, he made his way back to the fight.
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Howard gestures over to where some wreckage has made an overhang. "Get over here. It doesn't help either of us to have me patch you up under open fire."
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"Teleporter--teleporter did it. Wound's pretty clean, just--"
It was just gone. Like that. He still hadn't really come to grips with that thought. He'd been hurt really bad before, even lost his hand before, but that'd been right before he'd died. In general, he was not used to injuries like this, not used to being...vulnerable.
"S'just the bleeding."
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"Hey," he said when Kon began to move again, "hey! You shouldn't be doing that after--!" He looked at and motioned to his hand.
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And now he was wading right back into the fray, punching out clones one-handed.
"What shouldn't I be doing?"
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