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Fandom Gotham By Midnight

Twice Knightly

Twice Knightly

The Clock Strikes 12
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Prologue
"Shadow Over Gotham"



Appearing in a new place without warning is never fun.

Maybe it's happened to you before. Maybe it hasn't. Maybe it's happened so many times that you're used to it by now. But the fact of the matter is, however you were spending your Halloween, the last thing you expected was to wind up in some dank and depressing alleyway that smelled like piss and looked like something out of a bad movie. Maybe it was the rank stench that awoke you or the sounds of aimless gunfire only a few blocks away. Perhaps it was the police sirens, or the constant screams that seemed to fester in this place like a plague. No matter what, you did


wake up before long, only to find yourself and a few others sitting in the aforementioned alleyway.

Six others wake up beside you. Each person around you is different. So different that before long, it dawns upon you that you each were likely from entirely separate walks of life. One such figure was already seated atop a nearby dumpster, legs dangling over the end so that his feet just barely hovered above the ground. He wears a suit of armor so thick that not a single inch of his flesh seems to be visible. His helmet, faceless and cold, stares at no one in particular. He just stares, while his hands drag a large rock over the blade of an even larger combat knife. Sparks fly from each motion before dissipating into nothingness, and the motion is repeated almost endlessly.

Schnk.
Schnk. .
Schnk. . .

felix.jpg

"About time you woke up," he finally speaks - and already you likely pick up on his tone. It drips

with an easily identifiable smugness. It's the kind of smugness that a man doesn't attempt to hide. A kind that verbalizes the fact that whoever's using it is all too proud to be an asshole. His head innocuously turns to the side, as he drags the knife again, then once more after that. And he keeps on doing it. "I was starting to get worried. Seriously."

Only a beat passes before he speaks again.

"So... are you guys gonna tell me your names or what? Because, lemme tell ya, it's been kinda awkward sitting here for the past thirty minutes waiting on that."

Cast List
Twice Knightly Twice Knightly as Felix (Red vs. Blue)
BarrenThin2 BarrenThin2 as Frank Castle (Marvel Comics)
Cephrys Cephrys as The Demoman (Team Fortress 2)
DapperDogman DapperDogman as Contingency (OC)
megar megar as Ramlethal Valentine (Guilty Gear)
Jeremiah Jeremiah as Tav “The Ratling” Tomassi (Warhammer 40K)
FactionGuerrilla FactionGuerrilla as Quiet (Metal Gear Solid V)​
 
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"I've been awake," Ramlethal calmly answers, though it certainly hadn't appeared as such, "didn't you notice?"

It would have been difficult to, given her eyes were covered by the cap loosely hanging on her head as she sat perfectly still leaning against one of the walls. She still doesn't even bother to get up. The smell is awful, but she's quite sure she's not sitting in any of what it might be, and that's good enough for now. A hand slips out from her mantle, then, finally pulling her cap up and at last revealing a piercing yet dry gaze underneath.

"You should have spoken up earlier. I hadn't realised you wanted to talk. I'm Ramlethal."

She pauses for a second, and then nods, more to herself than anything.

"Hello. I think that's the polite thing to say."
 
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"Sorry, I didn't realize I was stuck with the socially unaware when I woke up here," he sarcastically replies. His dangling legs kick back against the dumpster, causing a loud Thunk! Thunk! sound to ring out. "That's my mistake."

He drags the rock across his blade again, sending more sparks flying.

"Name's Felix. And I'm gonna choose not to question why your name sounds like something for a cheap pickup truck, because frankly... I've probably heard weirder."

megar megar ​
 
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"That's okay. You don't know me, so I wouldn't expect you to know my behaviour."

She appreciatively nods for the apology nonetheless, though no further expression actually sprouts on her face because of it, remaining as blank as it ever was. Expression is still something she struggles with sometimes -- but she can at least gesture accordingly, she thinks.
 
"Right..." Felix just nods at... that, before turning his attention to the rest of the group. "Well, let's just hope that the rest of you make for better conversation."​
 
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Ramlethal and Felix’s brief conversation was underscored by an accompaniment of gentle snoozes. Like a musical crescendo, it gradually built until the snoring was impossible to ignore, elephant-like in its trumpeting. The source was easy to track: There in the alley, a man with a beanie, eyepatch and heavy demolition gear. A bottle of XxX whiskey aged to 1808 rested sideways on his lap as he lay asleep in the alley, the last few droplets leaking out from the bottle’s neck.

Stirring, the drunkard twitched, mumbling.

“I’ll….Pishallovahyur fanseelittlebloosoot ya…weapon ye…”

Moments passed. The bottle rolled off his lap as he shifted in his sleep, clanking against the alleyway with a sonorous clang.

“Eh—Wha?”

He sat up groggily, not exactly stirred to wakefulness. “Ohhh…I’m bleedin gaspin’ for a drink…”

With a shove off the ground, the man all of a sudden rose up to his feet. The grenades on his vest gave a little bounce - a little too much for comfort, given they should have been secured tightly.

“Whose are youse? Ah…” He squinted with one eye - the only eye - raising a finger and drawing it between Felix and Ramlethal. “You’re with me employer, are you? I’m here for a job,” he clapped his hands, rubbing them expectantly. “Tavish Finnegan DeGroot at yer service! But me pals just call me the Demoman.” Straightening up his vest, the Demoman stood much taller than the man who had been lying drunk in an alley.

“I’ll tell ye, this new job is the real kick up the arse I needed to get back into gear. I feel like a new—” He burped a whiskey burp. “—Man! I've got me gear ready and all.”
 
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  • October 31, 1984

    "I am Quiet. I am... the absence of words."​

    Her last words echoed through her mind as she carried a tank of gasoline out into the harsh Afghanistan desert, finally stopping her travels underneath a withered tree in the middle of nowhere. Her gray-green eyed gaze swept over her surroundings; once she was certain she was out somewhere nobody else could possibly find her, she unscrewed the cap before pouring the petrol over her head.

    There was no turning back now; now that she'd activating the virus that she was carrying, either she or the English-speaking world had to go. To her, the answer was clear. Theoretically, she wouldn't be able to spread the English parasites; her lungs were too fried for the larvae to feast upon. She couldn't risk that, though- let alone another capture by neither the Russians or Cipher. No; she would make sure she'd leave no traces of her nor the lethal virus for the world to rediscover and possibly weaponize.

    She took a deep breath, and pressed down on the lighter. The last thing she remembered was the same burning sensation that had led to her transformation a lifetime ago- but this time, it would mark the end of her life rather than just the end of a chapter.

    At least, that was how Quiet's story was supposed to go.
 
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Thump. Thump. Thump.

Where had he been? What had he been doing?

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Oh right. Halloween. That syndicate had decided to mug people in the confusion of the costumed festivities.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

His heartbeat rang in his ears. He'd just breached the room of the group's HQ, ready to bash in some heads and recover their stolen goods. The last thing he could recall was...A flashbang going off as he ran into the group of disoriented thieves, and then...An alleyway.

He raises his arm, fingers finding purchase in the crevice between two bricks as he lifts himself from the ground. This kind of locale was more than familiar to him. Though the gunshots were a little unexpected, criminals didn't exactly broadcast their positions with loud weapons in his city.
Hauling himself to his feet, The Contingency wipes his legs of what moisture he could as he looks around. These guys were weird.
And the man wearing a bright orange suit, he was really weird.

Dresses like a hero, has an attitude like...Him.

After a much longer period of silence and observation than is comfortable, he reaches up to a walkie talkie on his chest, twisting the volume dial to turn it on, quickly scanning to see if he could pick up any frequencies of local chatter. He seems totally disinterested in engaging in chit chat with whoever the hell these guys were.
Though as he flicks through the channels, his eyes do scan the people around him, noting their weapons and equipment.
There's an amount of weaponry on display that should be concerning. The orange guy is openly flaunting a combat knife, and the guy wearing an unusual amount of red and stinking like a brewery is packing some serious ordinance.

Then there was a woman who seemed to have been awake the longest, given that she was the voice he heard speaking first. He couldn't exactly tell what her deal was just yet. She'd need more observation.
And just before him it seemed a woman who couldn't speak had woken up. She was not dressed for this weather. She seemed to be concerned with taking inventory right now. Must be a specialist like him.

After attempting to find any lines of communication he could tap into, The Contingency would reach into a pouch on his vest and withdraw a small slip of black cardstock, tossing it onto the dumpster next to Felix. It was like a business card. On one side it has a logo of a man wearing a smooth black mask, devoid of features other than two eyeholes, holding his finger over where his lips should be.
On the other side it had two words, written in a simple font in a dark grey, barely discernible from the black background.
"Plan B"

After this simple introduction, the figure tilts his head upwards, now letting some measure of light get under the hood he wore. He was wearing a very similar mask to the one depicted on the card, some might recognise it as a ballistic mask, meant to provide some measure of protection from gunfire. The eyes were covered in some kind of mesh, blocking any view of the man beneath the mask.

The city seems about right. Dreary as all hell.

Twice Knightly Twice Knightly - Felix
megar megar - Ramlethal Valentine
Cephrys Cephrys - The Demoman
FactionGuerrilla FactionGuerrilla - Quiet​
 
"Sorry-- employer?" Felix's response to the question was just as confused as his response to Ramlethal's own introduction. His gaze, though obscured, still follows the Demoman as he stands up and begins checking himself down for gear. "As much as I would love to be paid to be stuck in what, frankly, seems to be a city only matched in its shittiness by the number of freaks it attracts - I'm not." His hands noticeably stop moving, however, instead only holding the rock still against the knife as he keeps up his stare. "But... assuming you're not with the rest of us... then I've gotta ask. Is the bar so low for this city's private contractors that they hire random drunks off the street... or are you one of those 'special talent' drunks that I keep hearing about?"

Regardless of the answer he receives, Felix's gaze moves past The Demoman as Quiet stirs awake. He watches her in total silence as she gathers her bearings, and just before he was going to say something, she makes that... gesture, to her throat and her lips.

"Oh, well that's nice. A mute. Real helpful," Felix shakes his head, and then moves his head again, this time to the black-clad figure further back. He tilts his head to the side as he watches the man get to work, eyes following him as the cardstock is haphazardly thrown his way. Felix's gaze follows it as it lands beside the dumpster he'd taken root on. He was about to ask about it - just before the man's walkie-talkie came to life, loud waves of static giving way to what seemed to be the only communication channel he could tap into. At least, for the moment, anyway.

Sccchhk-- Ssscchhk--

"--all GCPD Units, this is Gordon. I need all available units that aren't containing the Blackgate Riots stationed at either the station, or the relayed access points across the city. We still don't know what the hell has caused this, but all we can say for sure is that our forces are stretched thin as is. Consolidation is all we can do. Units A, B and C will rotate out with one another in eight hour turns. Any casualties, any injuries, you get them the hell back to the station. We can't risk losing a single man tonight. Not with what we're dealing with."

And then, the line is cut. Just like that.

"Well... if that's not reassuring, then I don't know what is!"

DapperDogman DapperDogman megar megar Cephrys Cephrys FactionGuerrilla FactionGuerrilla ​
 
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​
"I'm unfamiliar with both his name and force..."

Ramlethal considers herself well-studied on units worldwide. It isn't impossible for one to have evaded her notice, certainly; it could have Zepp involvement. The technology she's surrounded by would lend credence to that. But this is evidently not Zepp, from appearances alone. In fact, somewhere like this, if it's as crime-infested as it would appear, surely she would know about it beforehand, even if it isn't under her own jurisdiction. Try as she might, she finds no answer.

Where in the world is she, and how did she get here? Little Delilah had asked her to go trick-or-treating with herself and Baiken, and she went with them... but her memory draws a blank after that. She's not concerned for their safety, not with Baiken having been there, but her own now is a matter of concern. Unfamiliar location, uncertain how she got here...

Ramlethal almost springs upward, straightening out as she starts to float just above the ground. Her already out hand adjusts her cap before disappearing under the mantle again as she scans the immediate area. It's at least safe here, ignoring the people she's surrounded by. They're an unfamiliar element to her, but then all the same she appears to be one to them, which makes things even.

"Does anyone want to investigate with me?"

All the same, it means she won't find her answers here.
 

  • And as if right on time, another one of the misfits woke up- this time, someone who'd made an effort to hide their identity. They didn't bother speaking a single word, either- which was fine with her, considering they already had one chatterbox intent on antagonizing his peers.

    Though Felix's words didn't phase her, she still considered glowering at the man to try and intimidate him. The only reason why she didn't was because she figured she didn't need to make any enemies in such a foreign and hostile-looking environment. Instead, her gaze went back to the newest stranger to observe his actions. Only upon recognizing what he was trying to do did she also pull out her iDroid. With a quick flick of her thumb, the handheld device hummed to life, and a 3D hologram-esque interface lit the alleyway with a soft blue hue. Of course, the map function didn't work at all; she would need to keep an eye out for any maps she could scan to reorient herself. Another tap of a button, and she swapped over to a radio tuner.

    Her piercing gaze looked up from her handheld as the masked man threw out a calling card at Felix. As it went towards its intended target, Quiet caught a glimpse of both sides- more than enough to make its details out as if she were the intended recipient. Another mute- or at least, someone who would prefer to speak few words- only known as Plan B. If this man was "Plan B", she couldn't help but wonder if there was a Plan A to go with him. Whatever the case, she stopped theorizing the instant Plan B's radio came to life. Her thumb pulled downwards on the iDroid's scroll wheel, shifting through radio frequencies until she was also tuned into this GCPD radio. With her free hand, she reached to her hip and pulled out an earpiece, hiding it between her ear and her hair. If her iDroid picked up on any further communications between this "Gordon" and the others, she would know exactly what was going on.

    Still, these Blackgate Riots sounded problematic. And the local police force had no idea what caused them... could this incident be related to everyone's coincidental arrival here? Either way, Ramlethal voiced her unfamiliarity to neither the name nor force- Quiet had a hunch that was the case for everyone else- before picking herself and floating above the ground not too unlike The Floating Boy. Seems the ex-Diamond Dog wasn't the only one gifted with superhuman talents.

    Upon the offer to investigate, Quiet nodded with a soft hum, pocketing her iDroid before unslinging her Wicked Butterfly. A quick check of the chamber and her magazine revealed her sniper rifle was fully loaded, and she had more than enough ammunition on her to hopefully last through the night, so any engagements- stealthy or loud- shouldn't be too much of an issue. Though she suspected the former approach might be a bit harder to maintain if this ragtag group decided to stick together, that was a problem she could solve later.
 
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"Heh,” Tavish chuckled, safe in the knowledge that he would be getting paid for this. “Where there’s a job goin’, there’s a DeGroot to fill it.”

It was true. Before Ullapool, the DeGroots had been chased out of three other towns for hoarding all the jobs amongst themselves. It may have also been something to do with taxes, but Tavish paid someone to not worry about that for him.

“‘Am a specialist, alright,” he nodded, reaching behind himself. “Demoman’s me title. Short for demolition!” From seemingly nowhere, Tavish produced the tool of his trade: A wide-barrelled, rotating chambered, comically proportioned grenade launcher. It was immediately recognisable for what it was - anymore simple and stereotypical and it would look like clipart.

“Heavy ordnance, house cleaning, oblooteration! All that and more, for a reasonable price.” He smirked, knowing his definition of reasonable price could afford to be far higher. Mercenary work paid well, and scrumpy wasn't…Oh, who was he kidding. He loved cheap whiskey.

A mute? No trouble to Tavish. Pyro never said a word - that he could understand, anyways - and they always had his back. There wasn't time for introductions, though: He was on the clock, and there was work to be done.

“Aye,” Demoman stowed his grenade launcher away - somewhere - stepping forward to rise to Ramlethal’s challenge. “Had a bit of trouble with those lads before, but eh, no skin off my nose.”

Demoman, interestingly, did seem familiar with the force. And not necessarily in a good way.

“No foul in havin’ a wee poke ‘round.”
 
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Blackgate? Not the one he was familiar with, surely. Wouldn't be enough people there for a riot, and certainly too much security for something like that.

He'd never heard of a GCPD, either. So this was definitely not home. Seems like law enforcement had their hands full, too. Whatever was going on at this Blackgate, it was serious.
Serious enough to tie up the whole police department. And they sounded like they were fighting a losing battle. He'd have to remember the name Gordon, seemed like they were in charge. Maybe the police chief?

If that wasn't interesting enough, the mute woman in the unseasonal clothes pulled out some kind of holographic display. It didn't look crazy advanced or anything, but tech like that was not cheap back home. Seems he was right, this one must be a specialist. If he had to guess, PMC, based on her unusual choice of attire and what looked like a very serious rifle, custom, rifle.

His attention was pulled away by a woman who seemed to be floating. Great, a Power, just like back home. At least that was familiar. He clicks his walkie-talkie off and grabs a device out of one of the pouches on his waist and clips it over the eye holes on his mask, clicking a button to switch on his multi-scanner, setting it to low-light for now.
As silently as it typical for him at this point he moves forwards slightly, scanning his eyes over the alleyway.

Stopping after a few steps he turns towards Ramlethal, noticing Quiet also seemed to be getting ready to join her. He extends his hands forwards slightly, bending his index fingers and locking them together, giving them a symbolic tug to show that they couldn't be separated when they were like that.
I wager that's meant to mean something.

When the Demoman stepped up and offered to join them however, the man drops his arms to his sides as he sizes him up.

Without a word he steps down the alley the other way and begins looking at the wall. After assessing it for a moment, he removes a device from a large pouch on his lower back and aims it upwards, firing a grappling hook up onto the roof.

Seems he's going solo instead.

Twice Knightly Twice Knightly - Felix
FactionGuerrilla FactionGuerrilla - Quiet
megar megar - Ramlethal
Cephrys Cephrys - Demoman​
 
On and on he dreamed
as his insufferable snore echoed through the alley. That was until this dank corner of Gotham's armpit turned astir with conversation and Tomassi's unconscious mind processed the noise around him. No, something wasn't right. He could still so vividly see through his mind's eye foul sorcery arcing through the sky, and the flash of a moment it had collided with him. Am I wounded? he wondered while the cogs of his conscious mind began to turn, I remember. . .cultists. Have I been kidnapped? Have I been corrupted!?

The mere thought of it scared Tav awake, and with the silent desperation of a wild animal he scrambled to gather his bearings. In a frantic craze he searched the ground around him with his hands; the sound of his leather gloves scraping the asphalt terrified him. Not for the fear of being without a weapon, he could scrounge one up just fine. No, if he lost his lasgun it was the Commissar he would answer to. So where had it gone? Where had it gone!? He patted himself down once, twice, thrice before his heart skipped a beat and
CLONK!
Tav winced in pain as something solid knocked against his helmet and fell into his arms. He opened his spiteful eyes to glare at whatever it was that made it their mission to kick him when he was down, but what he saw relieved him of his worries. "Oh Throne, I thought I'd lost ya!" Tav just about cried when he embraced the barrel of his lasgun, hugging it like a loved one,

"I just knew you'd see me through you always do! You're not hurt none are ya?" Tav fussed over his rifle, but the deeper he got into inspecting it, the more aware he became of his surroundings - a noisy little alley playing host to a real motley crew. His violet eyes were suddenly alight with paranoia while he took stock of everyone. A tall dark woman in extravagant clothing and a man so kitted up no-one could see his face. "Rogue trader?" he thought aloud, Unlikely. Rogue traders got no business with a guard like me. Is it Chaos?

Tav narrowed his eyes at the radio that man wore as it thrummed to life. "Vox is workin'," he mumbled, No way I'm in the Warp. Hold on- Tav's heart sank when he saw him. He wasn't big like a space marine, but he was armed like one that's for damn sure. Solar Auxilia was Tomassi's first thought, Oh everything's gone to shit if they're here. was his second. Tav straightened his back and regarded Felix with grim focus, planting the butt of his rifle down square against the pavement.

"Apologies sir. Tav Tomassi, designated marksman for the Cadian two-forty-ninth abhuman auxiliary reporting," the soldier introduced himself, speaking confidently and clearly.​

Mentions
Twice Knightly Twice Knightly - Felix
megar megar - Ramlethal Valentine
DapperDogman DapperDogman - Plan B
 

  • "Had a bit of trouble with those lads before"...? That was not something Quiet wanted to hear. It was bad enough that she had no idea what she was up against, let alone the possibility that the Demoman might've already made a negative impression upon any locals. Her gaze narrowed at the thought, gazing over at the grenadier as if to silently urge him to elaborate on how he'd gotten in trouble. Or better yet, what he knew about this place, considering neither she nor Ramlethal had any idea what was going on.

    The Plan B figure initially seemed ready to join the two girls, as he made his own silent gesture to the duo. However, before the huntress could even acknowledge the motions, Plan B took a look at the Demoman before the former's posture practically sank. As the other mute took off, Quiet had a feeling he wasn't exactly comfortable sticking with the man who'd already established himself as a troublemaker to the world- which she couldn't blame.

    For a moment, as Plan B left the group, the brunette considered trying to follow him; after all, he seemed to have a semblance of what he was doing, and he seemed far less likely to cause a scene than if she traveled with the others. However, there was no telling what awaited her outside this alleyway. If it turned out the rioting has created all-out warfare- which, judging by the open sounds of gunfire and the panicked transmission, was very likely- open combat could become significantly more dangerous, and it'd be safer to stick with the main group. But on the other hand, she didn't want to make herself a public enemy of the local law enforcement if the drunkard standing next to her had been deemed as a criminal menace. If this were the case, then being in a large party would almost guarantee they'd catch the locals' eyes- it wasn't exactly like she or Tavish were concealing their weapons- and subsequently, get ousted to the police.

    The sniper threw her silent lethal rifle back over her shoulder, folded her arms, and leaned back against the wall. She supposed she could wait a couple more moments to make her final decision, especially since two more figures didn't seem to be awake yet.

    The first of the latecomers to wake up was apparently an eccentric marksman named Tav Tomassi. At least he seemed to have a decent trigger discipline, considering the guy was quick to enact a soldier routine towards Felix. Talking to his gun was a bit concerning, but at least he didn't smell like he was drunk as a skunk. That left just one more figure still out for the count. Maybe she should head towards the rooftops anyways, try and get a preliminary scout of the vicinity done before moving out with either Plan B or the others... The girl pursed her lips at this thought, considering the notion as she stay put.
 
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"Investigate?" Felix almost laughs off the idea, though the sound left him as more of a dry snicker than anything else. "Yeah, 'cus that's a smart thing to do after we just woke up and heard everything's on fire. Do you even have a plan?" As he asks this question, Quiet's holographic display came up... though at the moment, it seemed to be useless. They could have probably seen him roll his eyes if he didn't have his helmet on. Although, his body language spoke for him anyway on that front, with how he almost slumped over to the side. At least she and the others seemed to be loaded with weapons. That was something. The drunk guy even seemed to have a grenade launcher.

And then he just watches as the other quiet guy - the mysterious one in all black, just fires a grappling hook onto a nearby rooftop. Again, his body language speaks for him, his posture stiffening at the sight and fingers tensing against his knife and the stone.

"Are we just in a, 'who can die the fastest by being a dumbass' contest, or what? Did you not hear the radio a second ago?? We need a plan before you just--"

He's again drawn away from that as the next guy wakes up. This one seemed a lot more frantic at first, which immediately served to put Felix on edge. His posture loosens back up once he realizes that this guy is... probably just an idiot. Or fucking his weapons. Or both? You'd probably have to be an idiot to stick your dick in the barrel of a gun, Felix reckons. He just decides not to comment on that at all, ultimately. Color his shock when set idiot marched on over and did the kind of greeting he'd do back in his UNSC days - minus the saluting. If there were any doubt before that he was a soldier, that was promptly squashed when he finally spoke. Confident and clear indeed - like a switch had been flipped in his brain. Obviously there had been some kind of mixup here.

"Uh... at ease, soldier," Felix, comparatively, gives a half-hearted response and a lazy salute in return. He doesn't bother even trying to meet him on his level, with his back slumped as it is. He briefly observes Quiet, standing off to the side. "See? She has the right idea." Felix gestures to her as he speaks with the arm holding the knife, blade tipped in her direction. His head snaps back to the man with the grappling hook. It's just about to pull taut and propel him up, and that's why he's quick to speak up before it does.

"Hey, listen. I get you're trying to play up the whole 'dark and mysterious brooder act', but in case you couldn't tell..." Felix gestures back at himself with both arms. "We, do not know what's going on out there. And that includes you. And the only guy who says he does know..." He gestures out toward the Demoman with both arms. "Is a guy so drunk that he probably doesn't even know what day of the week it is. So if you really wanna get yourself killed out there, be my guest. But otherwise, if you wanna survive, then I would suggest putting that grappling hook away and waiting until we've got something resembling a plan. And... probably on that last guy to wake up, too."

With that, Felix returns to dragging the rock across his blade, sending more sparks flying off and away from him. In the meantime, his head tilts down toward the last guy on the ground - a gruff-looking man in a trench coat, in his fifties, and who, like everyone else here, appears to be armed to the teeth.

megar megar FactionGuerrilla FactionGuerrilla Cephrys Cephrys DapperDogman DapperDogman Jeremiah Jeremiah BarrenThin2 BarrenThin2 ​
 
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"The plan is to investigate," Ramlethal flatly answers, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. The drunken man, Demoman, seems hardly in shape to explain that well, and Ramlethal has always trusted her own eyes over everything else. If she is going to find any answers, she will do it herself. That's how she has always operated. Idling around has never suited her if she can avoid it. There's always something she can do.

Still... it probably is worth waking that man still on the ground up, first.

She brings her arms out from her mantle, and in that moment a pair of gigantic greatswords nearly her own height appear in a green light by her side, each held in the air by what appears to be a tiny, balloon-like creature. Then she lowers her arms, and the swords violently slam into the ground. They somehow only lightly crack it... but the noise would be plenty enough to rouse anyone who still happens to be sleeping on the ground next to them.

"Wake up."
 
Seems like people are scared to leave the alleyway at all.
Plan B detaches the gun from the rope, leaving it dangling from the roof as he gives it a tug, testing its grip on the roof. He wasn't going to leave immediately in the first place, but he didn't exactly plan on explaining why he was going up on his own rather than leaving with the now growing group.

Turning to face Felix he jabs a thumb into his own chest, before opening his palm downwards and motioning toward the ground twice.
Then he puts his hand over his brow, and scans a mock horizon for a few seconds.

Then he looks back at the rope for a moment, he's about to 'say' something else when a man dressed up in some kind of...Soldier outfit? Wakes up
He seems more than a little happy to have his weapon. Odd, but not completely foreign.
What was strange was his introduction. Cadian? Abhuman? More words he was unfamiliar with. But before he could think too deeply about that the floating woman slammed her weapons into the ground.

His entire body tenses as he grips the rope, slowly turning his head to Ramlethal.
He looks between the others in the alley for a long moment, before gesturing toward her as if this was exactly his reasoning.
He swings the rope against the wall, causing a wave to move up the cord until it hits the top at which point the hook pops loose and he begins pulling the rope down, catching the hook effortlessly as it falls toward him.

He turns to Felix as he replaces the hook in his gun, giving him a long look before raising his shoulders.
He lifts his right hand over his eyes for a moment, before pointing to the ground.
Then he points a thumb at the walls of the alley, then makes an X with his arms before pointing to the open space of the rooves.

Twice Knightly Twice Knightly - Felix
megar megar - Ramlethal
Jeremiah Jeremiah -Tav​
 
Tav blinked and his rigid composure faltered. He stared at Felix bewildered for a couple moments which dragged into awkward silence. His violet eyes followed the spartan's gesture over to that quiet wallflower always lurking just out of sight. Just the way she was dressed was raising alarm bells - it screamed heresy in the shrill voice of a daemonette.

"What, you're not part o' the Guard?" Tav spat out in disbelief, his head whipping left and right to observe all the eclectic faces surrounding him. He felt pressure building in his chest and a ringing in his ears, his breathing becoming more and more labored. There were no stimms in the air, or was that a product of his paranoid imagining? Stumbling backward, the grip on his gun and the sturdy brick wall at his back were the only two comforts he had as any idea of a sane reality he had came crumbling down.

"None o' you are." he whispered, frozen in horror.

thousand yard stare.png

CRASH!!
The sound startled Tav from his stupor as he snapped around to find the source. He stared with eyes wide as saucers at that woman in extravagant clothing, two gigantic psychic swords summoned to her side. Psyker! he wanted to scream. Years of dogmatic indoctrination had his trigger finger itchy, and set his very soul ablaze with righteous fury. Purge the mutant! he could hear his Commissar barking orders even now, Look upon the archenemy and feel only hate! So vivid was the cacophony of war in his mind, and so viscerally did he feel the ground beneath him roil and crack as the planet collapsed.

Everyone around him would only see a scared husk of a man where Tomassi previously stood, his glassy eyes barely perceiving the world around him as it was. His chest rapidly rose and fell under a layer of flak, sucking in shallow breath through clenched teeth. He was sweating bullets under his helmet and the plasteel parts of his lasgun rattled under his quaking hands. This was the end, Tav was sure of it. Lost to the immaterium with no angels to save him.​

Mentions
Twice Knightly Twice Knightly - Felix
FactionGuerrilla FactionGuerrilla - Quiet
megar megar - Ramlethal
 
It's not easy, raising Frank from his stupor. Where most present were supernatural in some way, Frank was just a normal, old man -- a resilient, strong-willed man, capable of far greater than most, but a man nevertheless. Normally an extremely alert sleeper, it wasn't until something that sounded like a car crash right next to him that he awoke. With a start, the pistol at his waist came up lightning fast, especially compared to his slow awakening, pointed directly at Ramlethal. A beat passes where no one tries to kill him. The pistol slowly lowers to his side, then back into its holster. For a moment, he doesn't say anything, rising to his feet and checking himself for injuries. Finding none, he instead, studied his surroundings.

Some sort of city. The grime wasn't personally familiar, but it was conceptually. He could recognize it anywhere -- places like this were old haunts. They served as his primary day to day hunting ground, after all. Hives of the deplorable and vile. As for the people, other than some shell-shocked grunt with gigantic laser pointer, no one seemed that on edge. To his credit, Frank was about as calm. Sure, he had no idea where he was, what was going on, or who any of these people were, but it wasn't like he was unfamiliar with the strange. It could be simple teleportation. He could be dead.

He didn't dwell on it.

Their relative peace did not make present company his allies. It did not make them trustworthy. It did mean Frank stayed ready to draw his pistol again at a moment's notice. Fat lot of good it'd likely do him, of course. Fighting superhumans, he'd always been reliant on doing his homework. He couldn't name a single person present from Adam or Eve. Of those speaking, the one clad in the gaudy heavy armor seemed the most coherent, but the one presently grappling up the wall seemed the most active. Felix won the coin toss when Frank faced him. He'd gotten enough of the conversation hear that no one seemed especially sure of what they should do next. "If you do know something, now would be the time to share it. Anything at all. Otherwise, that one seems to have the right idea." Frankl pointed upwards to where Plan B continued to scale.

Facing Tomassi, Frank studied the man in earnest. His voice was stern, commanding. "Calm down. Keep it close." The last thing they needed was for him to go haywire and shoot one of them in the back. So, for now, he at least resolved to keep an eye on him. Of course, if he made it clear he was going to panic and just open up on someone...

Jeremiah Jeremiah
Twice Knightly Twice Knightly
DapperDogman DapperDogman
megar megar​
 
ramban.png

​
"I apologise for startling you, Tav," Ramlethal flatly speaks again as her blades disappear and her arms fall back inside her mantle. Circumstances being what they are, she'd rather not burn up too much time in an unfamiliar place -- she doesn't know how long they have until they get noticed, if they get noticed. It was the most efficient, immediate solution she could think of, and it certainly worked. She can tell she bothered him, but... there's clearly a lot she still doesn't know, too.

She mentally files it away, for now. She hates to be difficult -- but with that, she finds herself unable to add anything. Should she wait for him to calm down? That seems like the right thing to do, but at the same time she still doesn't know if that time can be spared. But it's not as though she can do anything about it, in the end.

So in lieu of anything... Ramlethal simply idly looks around, as if trying to find anything else that might catch her eye in the alley -- though she's not expecting to see anything more.
 
demomanbanner-png.1189955

Sensing the mood had changed, Demoman approached Tav with a surprising lack of staggering. Reaching into the same pocket he retrieved his grenade launcher from, he held up a bottle in his fist, thrusting it forward. It was a different brand to the one he'd been drinking previously: DeGroot's Rum, brewed in 1680. He uncorked the bottle, and the potent smell of quadracentennial booze wafted through the air like cannon smoke.

"Have a sup, lad," he swung it gently side to side, and the strong brew swilled around the square bottomed bottle. "This'll give yer Willies a kick up the arse."
Being a man whose job it was to wield heavy, volatile ordnance, Tavish understood the importance of finding ways to relax under stress and pressure.


Jeremiah Jeremiah
​
 

  • Felix's alternation between complaining and insulting made Quiet want to roll her eyes. She definitely didn't intend to be pointed out as the model girl staying put, especially since that was the last thing she liked doing, but she made no motion to contradict him just yet. She didn't bat an eye nor move an inch when Ramlethal conjured a set of swords to create a loud ruckus, though she wouldn't have went to such an extreme to wake up the last man asleep.

    Plan B's gesturing to Felix didn't fall on blind eyes. Knowing he wasn't actually splitting off on his own- but rather getting intel- seemed to relieve her, and she ever-so-slightly loosened up. Seems he wasn't actually going to ditch everyone just yet. She made an internal note to keep her eyes on him, since he seemed to know what he was doing; if anything, she was probably going to end up taking a page out of his book and perform a bit of reconnaissance before they moved out.

    Either way, at this point Ramlethal's attempt at a rude awakening didn't just affect her initial target. The sniper had ignored Tav's initial gawks, but it was hard to pretend his mental shutdown wasn't happening. Not that she could do anything about it; she had a feeling she was a small part of why he was having a freakout, so it was probably best for her to keep out of it.

    Not that she had time to try and comfort the soldier. It was at this point that the last newcomer immediately drew his pistol and aimed at Ramlethal. She couldn't blame him, as there was a fair chance she could've done the exact same thing in another world, but she couldn't stand by idly in case he was still spooked. As quickly as Frank pulled out his sidearm, Quiet's hand dropped from her chest to her holster, ready to draw her own .45 pistol in case things escalated. Only when Frank holstered his pistol did she breathe a sigh of relief and release her grip, moving her hand over to her hip instead.

    Only now did the Demoman finally make his move- perhaps for the best, as she wasn't sure how trigger happy he was- only to ignore her questioning gaze and hand the terrified gunner a bottle of rum. She furrowed her brow at the potent smell; giving alcohol to someone with a gun didn't seem like a wise decision. The last thing they needed was two drunk loose cannons running amok, let alone during a time when the police are on high alert and one of the drunks was a possible repeat delinquent.

    Either way, now that Frank was awake and she knew exactly what Plan B had been trying to do, Quiet had made up her mind. She didn't want to be around the paranoid gunman when he started drinking, and the group did need to know what the hell was going on outside this alley, so the girl pushed herself off the wall before giving a nod of acknowledgement towards Plan B- the closest anyone else would get to a semblance of trust from her- and sauntering over next to him. She gazed upwards to size up the roof Plan B had targeted before pulling out a pair of binoculars. She took a deep breath; then, right before everyone's eyes, she practically disappeared into the background. A moment later, a soft whoosh alongside a soft gust of wind and a bit of dust hinted at exactly what she was doing.

    Were the others to look up, they'd see Quiet rematerialize at the top of the roof, gazing down to judge their reactions, before disappearing yet again and heading over to the other side of the roof. Once she was overlooking the main street close by, the assassin dropped down to her belly and swept her binoculars over the area to look for anything of interest. Since she was cloaked, she figured she had plenty of time to linger around without needing to worry about being detected by any potential enemies.
 
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Tav's glazed eyes followed Frank on his approach, but lingered on Ramlethal, curt as her apologies were. Those monstrous swords which she summoned and dismissed like infernal servants were nothing Imperial tech could produce. Was she xenos? A witch? Oh, how easy it was to guard his mind from toxic doubt when stood in the firing line with his regiment. But here, in this sprawling plastcrete jungle filled with noise and anxiety and things which lurk in the dark, nothing was certain.

Then came the blurry shape of something black, brown, and red bearing a gift. Its foul scent pierced Tav's stupor and through to his soul, gripping the very core of the man Tavish stood before. Beneath all the trauma and dogmatic superstition, Tav was a man who loved a stiff drink more than anything. As the sweet taste of rum splashed on his tongue and stung the back of his throat, the iron grip he held on his gun began to soften, and his heartbeat slowed to a calm.

"Phew! Fraggin' right you are," Tav gasped and wiped away the excess spilling down his stubble chin, "Holy Terra but that is the best damn bottle o' amasec I ever tasted!" the soldier exclaimed, choking the neck of the bottle under his clenched fist. Beating it once against the scot's flak jacket filled Tav with a hearty cheer to rival Demoman's own.

It was the comfort of being in the company of comrades.

"And to who do I owe my thanks eh? 'Fraid I never caught your name friend," Tav said with a smile, handing back his squared bottle of rum,​

Mentions
BarrenThin2 BarrenThin2 - Frank
megar megar - Ramlethal
Cephrys Cephrys - Demoman
 
He should have just gone to the roof...

Things very quickly seemed to be getting out of hand down in the alley. First the floating girl makes a loud noise. Next the soldier loses his shit. Then the sleeping guy wakes up and looks ready to start shooting. And to top it off, the drunk wants to start getting the soldier wasted.

A hand subtly rests on the grip of his weapon in its holster as he watches intently, silently.
Once things diffuse themselves, the hand slides away slowly.
It seems the soldier's panic attack is going to subside peacefully, and the sleeping man's trigger discipline is good, so he's at least trained enough to not accidentally shooting someone first thing after he wakes up.

Then the mute woman approaches and begins assessing the rooftop too. As he's about to turn to her he finds himself staring into empty space. He reaches up curiously, flicking through the settings on his multi-scanner.
Nothing on low light. Nothing on OPV. Only remnants on thermal.
He glances around in confusion for a moment before looking back upwards, thinking maybe she'd begun scaling the wall. That's when he spots her standing on the ledge for a moment before once again moving away from his sight.

He glances over at Felix for a second before tapping his wrist twice. Then he grabs his grappling gun once more and aims it upwards, giving Felix a thumbs up as he fires it once more, and as the rope tightens he begins moving upwards, catching himself on the ledge as he drops the rope back down for the others.
He remains almost all the way up the wall, scanning the rooftop with his eyes. After assessing the situation he'd pull himself up, sticking to the shadows as his eyes scan the nearby buildings, searching for any signs of rioters, or possibly locations nearby where the police were clashing with Blackgate escapees.

Twice Knightly Twice Knightly - Felix
FactionGuerrilla FactionGuerrilla - Quiet​
 
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