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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.]
no subject
As for cauterizing it...
"Normally, that might help, but it'll heal faster if it's just left alone."
Superboy knew his own body.
"Burnt tissue won't knit. It wants--to heal. It just needs...help."
If only they could get the bleeding to stop long enough.
no subject
He starts pinching and pulling the edges of the wound closed with butterfly stitches, trying to do what little he can to aid that healing factor on its way.
no subject
Seriously, he had no idea. He could barely think in a situation like this.
no subject
He sees the edges of the wound very, very slowly - although significantly faster than any other injury would - start to stitch themselves back together. He keeps helping them along with the butterfly bandages.
no subject
"It's like--it's like breathing."
That didn't really explain much.
"Sometimes I do it on instinct and only do it on purpose when I--when I think about it. Like when you think about breathing and--and your breathing becomes a conscious thing until you forget again. And for me, it's something--something I couldn't live without."
It was hard to talk through the pain, because it did hurt. A lot.
"I guess I'm exaggerating, I guess I could live without it, but I sure as hell--nngh--" It hurt. Even as it healed, it hurt. "--don't want to. I flew before I ever even walked. Being up in the sky, it's like--you feel like you're the captain of your freakin' fate, like the whole world's wide open and--and waiting for you. Because it is."
no subject
It must be nice to fly. Must be nice to be able to escape things upwards instead of just side to side.
"Okay. That's good. Keep talking, Conner." It's the name he heard around the Med Bay back during that deaging fiasco, and thus the one he associates most with Kon. He tries to think of an open-ended question for Kon to keep rambling about. "You have a girlfriend, right? Tell me about her."
no subject
He focused on his breathing.
"She was my first girlfriend. I was a relative fifteen but only one year old chronologically, she was twenty-four, and it was so damn complicated the first time around. Age difference was way too big. Got worse when I got stuck at age fifteen a while with no idea if I'd be stuck that way forever. We broke up. But I ran into her again later. I loved her and she loved me, and there was still...something. And then she died. The ship--ship saved her right at that moment."
He closed his eyes.
"We're trying again. Seeing if we can make it work. Maybe. If she decides she wants to. I want--ever since she died, I wanted to know what could have been. She's...she's just..."
Boy he was dizzy.
"Ballsy. Brave, always snooping around in the middle of everything--she's a reporter. Sweet, so sweet just like the kindest damn person you could meet under all the brass tacks. Also looks amaaazing in a bikini."
That part was important.
"One of the benefits to living in Hawaii was how she dressed. Shazam."
Almost there. The bleeding was slowing.
no subject
Seriously, on the list of things Howard couldn't care less about, romance barely ranks above the Byzantine Empire and the newest fifty Pokemon.
Still, he stays listening. For all he knows this information could be useful at some later point. "You're almost in the clear. Stay with me, Conner. Tell me about Hawaii. I've never been."
no subject
That was enough. The wound was still open, raw, but the bleeding had slowed to a trickle.
no subject
He finishes cleaning up the bandaging job. "You're okay. But I'm going to call you an idiot if you go out there and lose another body part. You've bled all over the place enough already."
no subject
He sat up, huffing and trying to catch his breath. He was horribly pale.
"Do plan on getting back in there, though."
In a minute.
no subject
He glances down at his own outfit, the white coat he got from the hospital caper absolutely drenched in Kon's blood. He pulls it off and crumples it into a wad, so no one assumes he's seriously injured at a first glance. "And you owe me a new set of clothes once we get back on Stacy."
Kon clearly had a close call there; Howard would be able to tell that not just by the color of Kon's skin, but the look on his face. So maybe Kon's got a will of steel to get back up there and go fight as soon as he catches his breath and some extra white blood cells.
Or maybe he's just an idiot who doesn't value his life.
Howard, being the warm and fuzzy type, puts his money on the latter.
no subject
"Thanks. Again."
This time, it was a little more important, what Howard had done.