sixthiterationlogs | ghost in the machine, pt. two

Entry tags:

ghost in the machine, pt. two | rescue mingle

WHERE: The southern village, a cave system about 5 miles southwest, and in-between
WHEN: April 6
OPEN TO: Kidnappees (Agent Washington, Tim Drake-Wayne, Cissie King-Jones) & their rescuers (Agent Maine/Brigitte Lindholm; Jason Todd/Stephanie Brown; Diego Hargreeves/Seifer Almasy/Anne Weying)
WARNINGS: Violence & NPC death. Will update further as needed!

OOC details:

All 3 kidnapped villagers wake deep in a system of caves, firmly bound by rope at their ankles and wrists, with their hands in front of their bodies. It will be extremely dark. They will be able to speak to each other, however, and may notice that their wrist devices have been removed. There will be two canteens of water and two plates of berries and rice. They may begin to loosen or cut through their ropes, but it will be slow-going.

When Nat returns to the village and tells everyone about the kidnapping, it seems a fairly safe presumption that there will be folks wanting to go after the kidnapped villagers, locate them, and bring them safely back to the village. These characters may encounter NPCs along the way as they locate the kidnapped villagers and help them escape.

The odd hit-and-run assaults by the strange doppelgangers had finally escalated: three of their own had been taken. And so of course, others would go after them. Three ragtag groups eventually assembled within the southern village, setting out into the wilderness and trying to trace the path back to the origin of these inexplicable attackers, or at least where they’ve been holding their captives. It’s five miles away, so perhaps about two hours’ walk with all the stopping to check for footprints, broken branches, trampled bushes.

Once the rescuers start working through the dark caves, they start running into aggressive NPCs, and it seems likely a fight will break out.

A list of NPC clones they might encounter:

Anne Weying, Ashley Magnus, Aqua, Bobo del Rey, Brigitte Lindholm, Bruce Banner, Cissie King-Jones, Cougar Alvarez, Foggy Nelson, Frank Castle, Jacob Frye, Jason Todd, Jessica Jones, Joe Miller, John Druitt, John Wick, Kalen, Marian Hawke, Natasha Romanoff, Niska Elster, Oerba Dia Vanille, Peggy Carter, Reyes Vidal, Rinoa Heartilly, Rosa Diaz, Samantha Moon, Seifer Almasy, Thor Odinson, Tim Drake-Wayne

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For once, he's not uncomfortable with that touch, and he gives Brigitte a relieved smile. It's good to see her. Good to see anyone. Someone came back for him and it's a little terrifying how much that means to him. His captivity hadn't been anything like his time locked up on the Project, but still... it was captivity and he is so grateful to them.

"I can walk," he says. "Just help me up." He's walked with worse injuries, he's just aching more than anything. The first moments of movements are usually the worst. He shakes his head when she asks. "It's just my wrists. I'd rather get out of here and take care of them later. Do- do you have any water?"

It's easy to see the way that Maine's jaw tightens when he catches sight of Wash's wrists. Easy to see the anger there. Not at Wash, but at the people who took him. At the people who tied him up and kept him captive. If it weren't for the immediate need to get Wash the hell out, Maine would likely track down and kill every fake villager he could find.

Bypassing Wash's hand, Maine reaches for his friend's forearm to clasp just below his elbow. That way, when Maine pulls the other man upright, it won't put any strain on Wash's wrist. As for walking? Maine trusts that Wash knows his own limits — but he'll be sticking close.

When Wash asks for water, Maine's lips twitch down at a corner. He'd left his container outside; he hadn't considered that Wash might need a drink right away. Rescue operations aren't the Freelancer's specialty by a long shot. He casts a quick glance around the cavern, eyes a canteen sitting against the opposite wall dubiously, then — deciding he doesn't trust it — shakes his head.

"Outside," he explains. But he looks to Brigitte, just in case she was able to carry hers alongside her equipment.

Catching Maine's glance, Brigitte reaches for her tool belt, pats it down looking for her supplies. She'd packed light for the unpredictable walk, but she'd taken some things, in the event that their people were injured: a roll of gauze, some antiseptic, a little bit of water to clean wounds. It isn't a large bottle, but it should be enough to wet his parched throat a bit and bring some relief. She hands it over, and tries to gauge Wash's condition as he moves. If he's limping, and how he carries himself. How badly they might have hurt him.

"Come on -- let's get out of here before any more of them show up." Who even knows how many clones they might have out there? Possibly unlimited. "I don't know about you, but I'm not looking forward to killing ourselves over and over," she says, ruefully. A little bitterly.

They throb, like he can feel his pulse running through them constantly. It's a little disconcerting but he doesn't think they're deep enough to worry. He's definitely had more serious injuries than this before.

He grabs hold of Maine's arm when it's offered and lets Maine do most of the work of pulling him up. His muscles scream at him for the change in position after so long spent with little movement. He wobbles precariously for a moment, feeling like all of the blood is shifting in his body. and leaving him light-headed. He keeps hold of Maine's arm for balance until it passes and then takes a step which mercifully lands and he doesn't keel over.

The water is taken with a grateful smile. He opens the bottle and has to force himself not to guzzle the whole thing. That doesn't usually end well, so he keeps it to small sips until he doesn't feel like his mouth is full of gravel. "Thanks," he says, and keeps clutching the bottle like it's some sort of lifeline.

"You..." he looks between them. "They're not right. Something's wrong with them."

Wash's unsteady state ensures that Maine sticks directly beside his friend. He doesn't continue holding on after Wash releases his arm, nor does he reach out to grasp Wash's shoulder in support. He just lingers, ready to catch Wash if it looks like the other man is going to fall. And that's where he'll stay whenever Wash feels prepared to move out.

Maine gives Brigitte a grim nod. Even knowing that the copy wasn't Brigitte, seeing it had still been … disorienting, to say the least. And Maine doesn't relish the possibility of meeting a copy of himself. Not because it would be more challenging to fight on an emotional level, but because Maine knows how hard it is to keep him down. He doesn't want his own near-inhuman endurance to be turned against his friends.

"Copies," Maine tells Wash. "Maybe flash clones."

It's illegal to clone an entire human in such a way, but this isn't their universe. And really, since when have laws stopped anything? The technology exists; the "Observers," or whatever is responsible, might be using it.

"Met Brigitte's," he adds. Then, dryly: "Not nice."

“She really wasn’t,” Brigitte sighs. They’re going to have to pass those corpses on their way back out, too, retracing their steps to find the exit. She’s already determined to not look too closely as they walk past them; she has no interest in seeing that familiar blood-smeared face again, the brown hair matted and unkempt.

Instinctively, Brig moves to Wash’s other side, the one that Maine isn’t covering. She slings her mace aside and swaps it back out for her shield again; a solid wall, a barrier between their weakened comrade and anything that might come at him from this angle.

And she starts moving, leading the way back out. Time to get the hell out of Dodge.

“Do you feel okay?” she asks. “Did they do anything to you?” Because god knows what bizarre experiments might be going on here; she’s heard about the bunker, the blood vials.

He grimaces at the mention of flash clones. He can believe that. There was something off about them right from the start. Something off to one side of human.

He looks between them when they mention Brigitte's clone. "Have you got one Maine?" He really doesn't want to meet a clone of Maine. He's already fought the Meta and came out the worse for it both times. In his current state he knows he would have little chance against the other Freelancer, especially not if they had his skillset.

It feels more secure having them on either side of him and he's painfully grateful for it, even if that's embarrassing to admit to himself. How long has he spent trying to get by on his own? And he can if he needs to, but nothing will ever feel as good and secure as having a team to watch his six.

"I'm bruised and sore, but I'm fine. I think. Don't remember anything weird, but I can't say I've been conscious the whole time."

Although he'd like to give a definitive answer, Maine can't be sure that there isn't a clone of him lurking somewhere in these tunnels. Can't be sure that they won't round the next bend and find the path ahead filled with his own bulk. Even if it's as feral and seemingly mindless as those other clones had been, it would still be a threat. It would still have the body that Maine has transformed into a formidable weapon.

The massive man presses his lips together as he shrugs, then he shakes his head. He doesn't know if he has a clone. He hopes that he doesn't. Not for his own sake, but for Wash and Brigitte's.

Maine falls back slightly behind Wash, watching the backs of his two allies. He raises his hand and angles his wrist so that his device's light illuminates the path ahead of Brigitte — as well as it can, at least. It's as he does so that Maine realizes something strange. Something that he didn't see when he cut the ropes from Wash's hands.

"Wristband?" he asks Wash. Does the other man have it?

That isn't reassuring. Wash sighs and leans against Maine's side, closing his eyes for a moment. "Shit. Guess I'll just keep my fingers crossed."

Because if it comes to a fight with Maine, he's not in any fit state to hold his own. Even before the Meta, Maine had been a hard fight, and up close and personal was not Wash's forte when it came to combat. And he was injured and exhausted. Yeah, that would not go well.

But he has to keep going. He's not going to die here.

He starts walking, keeping a close eye on both of them as much as he can. Doesn't want to lose sight of them in case they vanish, in case they're replaced, in case they turn out to be not real and it's just been Wash's mind playing tricks on him.

He pauses when Maine speaks, and he glances back at him. "Uh- it's-" He looks down at his wrist. His bare wrist. Checks the other one just in case he's somehow missed it. But it's not there either. "I don't know where it is."

Her gaze follows the movement of Wash's wrist, looking for the tell-tale bulk of his wristband, the shape of the device. Nothing. Her mouth twists, considering. What did it mean that it was gone? Seifer had lost his long ago. Did their opponents... want them for some reason?

"There are worse things they could've done, I guess," she says, but it's clear from her hesitant voice that she's not even sure what they've lost. What the repercussions are. She hates not understanding the context or stakes of an engagement.

She glances back down the passageway to where Wash was being kept, for a moment considering if she should run back to look for it. But no. The most important thing is a living, breathing body, and getting him out.

"We can deal with that later. Let's just get back outside and to the rest of the group." Her tone has firmed up, regaining the solidity (her father would call it stubbornness) of having made a decision. Then a moment later, further explanation follows, so Wash won't be caught off-guard: "A few others came with us for the rescue. Seifer, Anne, Steph, Tim, Diego-- I don't know if you know any of them."

Worse things, indeed. Still, a faintly troubled expression passes over Maine's face. Why would the clones want a wristband, of all things? And how the hell did they even get it off? Maine's tried taking his own off before. Suspects that he might have to remove his hand in order to do it.

Unbidden, a sick shiver runs up Maine's spine as he thinks of what Wash's captors could have done. Then he forcibly drags his thoughts away from that possibility. It didn't happen. Wash is going to be fine. He and Brigitte will make damn sure of that.

When Brigitte speaks so decisively, Maine is reminded again of Carolina. He nods and keeps moving, stretching his enhanced senses out as best he can so that no one (and nothing) can sneak up on them.

He can smell blood up ahead. Must be the dead clones.

"Yes, please," Wash says with some vehemence. He doesn't care about the stupid wristband right now. He just wants to not be here anymore. He wants to see the outside.

He shakes his head at the question. "Didn't exactly have much time to chat."

Even if chatting was something that he was generally inclined to do. He's even less likely to do it in a hostage situation.

He starts to walk, determined to leave even if everyone else wants to poke around. This whole situation has been unsettling in the extreme.

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ghost in the machine, pt. two | rescue mingle

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