shit ton of people
|Scene Title||Apophis attacks!|
|Synopsis||Apophis tries to destroy New Atlantis. Our intrepid heroes become demigods! (still haven't gotten a demiupgrade from all of you yet)|
What was once New York is now New Atlantis, a gleaming city that gives reverence to the Atlantean Gods that watch over it. The Atlantean Broadcasting Corporation finally stops their nonstop and somewhat hysterical assassination attempt coverage to bring news of a new and breaking story taking place in the Bronx. The images displayed are terrifying, Titanspawn are nothing new in this city but never have they been quite so large. A massive serpent has appeared, weighing several tons at least, chalky and stony white in color and wreaking impressive damage. Powerful buildings are brought down with repeated strikes of it's tail, citizens fleeing from the beast snapped up by giant jaws. News cameras show a valiant effort by police to contain the threat, the bark of gunfire greeting efforts to bring the serpent down but nothing they do seems to be having any effect. Of the Atlantean overlords themselves there are no sign, not yet anyways, but then the Bronx has always been especially weak in tribute and taxes.
Ever since being warned by his father to watch the skies for a sign, Preston has been diligently keeping an eye out. When he sees the flickering lights and smoke from fires in the Bronx where this 'conqueror worm' is wreaking havoc he suspects even this isn't what he was told to watch out for. All the same, he wastes no time in leaping from one snowy rooftop to the next, his set of prints joined by the paw-tracks of his enormous canine. Preston and Godric are on the scene shortly thereafter. While the city isn't its proper self, its citizens are no less helpless against the onslaught of a truly titanic monster of this sort. He perches atop a roof, surveying the worm's immediate vicinty as he contemplates a plan of attack…and waits expectantly for other champions to arrive.
The only reason Dee is not pleased with actually hitting the princess in her assassination attempt is that it wasn't successful. Sure, she might have been struck dead immediately by Melanope's mother, but it would have been worth it. The woman clearly has no respect for life, and so needed to go. She's been in touch with several of the other Scions she knows to try to do something organized and constructive, but then there's the serpent attack. That has to take precedent. Texts are sent to a few as she flies through the skies towards the Bronx. That is where she's likely to run into the least traffic, after all. After the attack on the princess she might be a target once she gets there, but the priority is trying to keep the mortals safe.
With the Atlantians coming out and taking over New York, Lin has felt need for a little more protection. He picks up a sword from a reliable source close to home in Chinatown. With the appearance of the serpent, he knows he has got to help. He raises across the bridge, the red bulb flashing to get through traffic. He gathers with the other like minded heroes, looking upon the beast.
Between the calls to his phone and the news blasting all over the televisions, it's nigh on impossible for Scrivner to be unaware of what's going on. Even from a distance, he can hear the rumbling and the cracking of stone, the screams of people and the bursts of gunfire. He's not travelling by ground; it's far too slow. The man shoots through the air instead, skimming over rooftops and around skyscrapers, making his way steadily towards the scene of destruction. He's faced Nemean beasts before, but this… this is unlike /anything/ he has ever seen before in size and scale. For a moment he stops short, hovering in midair and staring. It's… mind-blowing. His heart tightens up in his chest before he grits his teeth and bares them, reaching up to his back to pull his sword free of the scabbard. He continues his flight forward, and his skin and clothing take on a pewter sheen as he soars.
Norman Riddick Gibbs of the NSA has been trapped in New Atlantis. He has been intrigued by the wards containing the city as much as by the apparently seamless transition to New Atlantis in the minds of the mortals around him. For hours now he has been studying the local ABC broadcasts, analyzing things in pensive silence until there was mention of a Titanspawn attack in the Bronx.
Based on what he has heard and seen, this in itself is not necessarily unusual. However it interrupted broadcast hysteria about an attempted assassination on a 'Princess Melanope', which to Gibbs reeks of strangeness. It bears investigation and he stands from his couch to drag Erika from her lab and to the cars. Norman hops in his Dodge Viper, Damballah, while Erika saddles up in her Volkswagen Beetle, Ozymandias.
Gibbs draws as close as he dares in Damballah before getting out and running the remaining distance. Damaballah starts to circle on the side streets, perusing news van electronics as a mobile hacker-pirate… Just in case they have something of value to Norman's newest mission.
This was not what she was expecting. Atlantis, from her research, was aculture of deep science and knowledge, one that sounded perfect to her, even if it's more of a dystopia than a utopia. And so when there was news of the creature attacking, there was no hesitation on end as she grabbed her nemean hide armor and went forth. It's always a good thing to have nemean armor.
With that, they're off to the Bronx, which is a bit of a bitch considering the massive panic attack on the people. When they arrive, she slips out of the car and runs alongside Gibbs.
"New York or New Atlantis blows. First Cloverfield and now this." she grumps as she pulls out Scary Spice, her relic gun.
As heroes flock to the scene of the catastrophe underway they can quickly determine that things are different than they were on the news even a short time ago. Winter in New York was already cold, but it is colder here and colder yet closer to the giant snake. The corpses littering the streets where the serpent has already been glow to even mundane eyes with a faint glow, and those with death senses can see the spirits bound with chains to the serpent and slowly being drawn upon, already frostbitten discolored flesh starting to twitch and jerk weakly. Zombies to be? If things continue unabated.
Big problems require big solutions. That's why Vette suddenly guns the motorcycle. Streaking down the street in a blur of black leather she puts herself on a collision course for the big snake. Of course, she's not suicidal. Better to burn out than fade away and all that, but she would like to live. That's why, as her puzzleboxes glow hotly and she bolsters the flame inside of the motorcycle to make it explode, she's already leaping free of the thing. Tuck and roll, baby, tuck and roll, and here's a nice big BOOM as her opening gambit.
For a moment as he looks down upon the tableau of horror spread out before him, familiar environs made alien by the litter of frozen and broken corpses strewn in the serpent's wake, Preston suffers a chill that has nothing to do with the monster. He's jarred from his momentary trepidation by the sudden explosion of Vette's motorcycle, emboldened by the fireball and the thunderous sound of it. He begins to glow, brightly enough to be seen against the wintry night sky, and holds an axe blade high above his head in a salute. He drops from his perch, a golden flare descending with deceptive slowness to the street below. Now she knows she's not alone, which was precisely the thing she showed him.
Vette's motorcycle zooms along towards the snake. The very big snake. The very very big snake. As it enters the final stretch it does hit the incredibly icy conditions of the road, going off balance and tipping over to the side and the sounds of metal scraping the ground make a painful SQUEAL. Despite it's size the snake is fast, oh so fast, it's massive frame crushing several cars beneath as it slithers out of the way. The fireball is not so easy to avoid, catching the serpent upon one side and leaving the white flesh visibly scorched in it's wake. Given a moment of violent thrashing this thing does not like fire. It really does not like fire. Almost at once it retaliates tot he assault, slithering forward and lunging at the hastily dismounted biker seeking to impale Vette with two massive fangs, white as the fallen snow and dripping with a vaporous venom.
Pale eyes flicker downward to catch sight of the burst of warm, orange fire. He's fairly sure he recognises that figure in black, and soon, Scrivner will fly down to her, but for now… He's quite, quite aware that it is targetting /her./ Gone in the beat of a heart is his fear for himself. This thing is trying to destroy the last remnants of his city, and it's trying to destroy /her./ "No, you bloody son of a bitch!" he bellows, as he swoops down and in an arc, to place himself at the forefront of the creature's maw and throat. At the very last second he swoops up, sword thrust forward to strike out and knock it away from her. No touching the lady.
"That… is one big fucking snake." Dee's eyes can't help but widen when she gets a good look at it. "Wow. This is going to suck." Never once does she think about turning away, though. She looks over the thing, and dismisses the idea of using her paltry weaponry for any standard sort of attack. Harpy talons or no, they ain't gettin' through that hide. But… There are ample others that can try the direct approach. That's not what she's about. She starts to try to work her way around it in the air, hoping to take a path least noticed to get behind it. Of course, she also triggers her abilty to not get hit as easily. She is crunchy under all that squishy, after all, and probably good with ketchup.
Metal rings out sharply against bone, and the Englishman roars at the force of strength required to thrust that fang away from the redhead. It jostles his arm, and the blade sweeps out in an arc as Scrivner hovers before Vette, sneering at the creature in defiance, teeth-bared and eyes glittering. As he rises up higher into the air, readying to pursue the Titanspawn, he shouts down, "Get back, Vette! Stay back!"
She knew she could count on Rufus. But Vette doesn't stop to thank him just yet. The thing doesn't like fire, does it? Good to know. Momentarily out of fire, though, she goes darting back from the snake and instead starts working with her crafting the earth trick. Time to make a giant spike and send it up through this snake.
This close Vette remains within range of the snake, well capable of seeing the impact that the earth has upon the snake which is.. none whatsoever. It melts and flows away from the skin of the serpent's flesh much like it might from her own. Another lesson learned. It doesn't like fire. It loves earth.
Apophis, for this snake does have a name cannot truly be said to look surprised as Scrivner parries it's lunging assault on Vette. Snakes are not the most expressive of creatures, all told. It's reaction to it's strike upon Vette being parried is to rear it's head back, a powerful reverberating hiss coming from the monster before a spray venom escapes from it's mouth to rush towards Scriver like a white cloud, foul smelling, frigid, and toxic in the extreme.
Shooting up higher into the air, Scrivner sweeps about his blade till it rests defensively before his body, but it won't remain there for long. The creature is opening its maw to attack, and his blood runs cold with dread even as he shoots forward. Some whisper in him wants to just /get out./ There's no hope, no hope, no bloody hope that they can possibly win this. He doesn't realise he is screaming out in defiance even as he is sprayed down in that venom that chills him down to the bone, freezing his blood, bathing him in ice-cold agony. He strikes as hard as he can, lunging with all of his strength for that snake's body, to drive in the blade deep and hard and draw blood. "Never surrender," he snarls. "I am never going to bloody surrender to the likes of bloody /you!/" But oh God, the pain.
Being directly in the face of a venom spitting serpent is probably not where Scrivner wishes hat he were at the moment. But with those jaws open wide it provides a great opportunity for a sword strike. Even as Scrivner's flesh is rotting and decaying away in response to the frigid venom that sword strikes the tongue of Aphophis and severs cleanly through it. The sibilant hiss of pain rattles windows, the snake jerking too and fro as powerful swipes of it's tail sends cars flying through the air making a maelstrom of metal and carnage behind it. Blood, black and ichorous, sharply in contrast to the snakes white flesh bubbles forth and stains the ground where it touches.
"I need a better angle. I expect we're also going to need fire, Erika, and lots of it. Think you can work your mojo back here while I start scouting?"
Gibbs looks over his shoulder at Erika, one eyebrow quirked ever so slightly. He waits for confirmation of orders from Erika, drawing his silenced 7.62mm pistol from within the heavy winter coat he wears. After cocking it and getting it comfortably set in his hands, he adjusts his coat and closes up the Nemean leather vest that he wears under it.
Preston's feet don't stay on the ground long after he's completed his descent. Springing lightly, leaving barely a divot in the ice he lands upon, he boldly propels himself toward the serpent as the golden light from his form seems to reflect a little brighter. His ichor flows like quicksilver through his veins, lending his limbs a quickness even as it encases his form in a smooth, coppery second skin. His descending arc carries him toward the serpent's closest eye and, as if heedless of the dictates of gravity or the immediacy of combat he makes a martial dance of his descent, an aggressive display of killing intent that has him twisting in midair with the ornate golden spear whistling in his hands, tracing spirals of light through the air. Once he's near enough though, he proves quite ready to plunge what burns like a wedge of raw sunlight into that slitted orb.
Refracting off the mirrored sheen of his body, the light he casts brightens to a sudden sharp intensity which is eclipsed for but a moment by the bulk of his canine comrade. They're a radical contrast, the man with his chromed and radiant grace and the raw animal ferocity of slavering jaws and raised hackles. Godric lunges at the creature's seeming vulnerability, all snapping fangs threatening delicate tissue in a feint while the man seeks to capitalize upon any instinctive flinch the creature might perform by catching it off guard, flashing its eyes with all the light he can bring to bear and following it up with a lancing strike from the spear. His weapon glows with its own light after he's spent his, hissing with murderous intent.
Lin lifts a hand to shield his eyes from the explosion from the bike. He luckly isn't in the range of the venom cloud as well. He looks to the giant snake and sees the scorch and burn marks from the fire and looks around. He tries to recall on his way in as he takes off down the street. "Come on, be lucky, be lucky…" He mumbles to himself.
There's a scrunch of her nose as she nods and looks towards Gibbs, letting out a hearty laugh at his request. The gears in her head are already turning as she nods and gives him the thumbs up.
"If you want it, then you got it! If you thought it, it better be what you want!" she says with a wink before starting to look herself being careful of the snake as she becomes dodgey before adjusting her own nemean leather jacket while also searching for a meth lab of some sort.
Dee is certainly not unhappy to be staying away from the front of the thing. Ew. On the other hand, the serpent is going to really hurt her Bandmates and that isn't acceptable. She looks around for something really useful, and her eyes fall on the nearest traffic signal. That could be useful. Not so much it, as the electricity in the lines attached to it. She looks to whom else is fighting the snake, and shouts "The ground! Electrical lines!" She might hurt herself, but she'll grip the line and take a knife to cut through it if she can. Her goal? Try to shove the live line into the snake.
This is not good. Erika isn't finding anything in her search. But she is not in touch with the drug culture.
Gibbs nods to Erika's request for flammables. He really wants to get some high ground, but that can wait until the Demowoman has fuel for her bombs. Norman rushes off down the sidewalk, surveying the exterior of buildings. Finally he pauses in front of one and darts down an alley way.
After a moment of ensuring that no one is around, Gibbs walks through the locked door of his suspected meth lab. Unbarred Entry is his favorite power ever, by the way, and he smiles broadly. It isn't just a meth lab, it is a cottage meth /INDUSTRY/. Gibbs reaches up and queues his tactical radio, to which Erika has the mate, "Found a good one. I'll meet you outside once I get the door open."
Frozen gore sizzles in defiance as all pretense of art and beauty flees like the acrid steam rising from the serpent's flesh as Preston's spear strikes home. The immense beast is too quick to be believed, horrifyingly fast, and when it shies away from his light the Aesir scores a deep, vicious rent in its flesh in lieu of bursting the gellid organ. Scales fly apart, shattering and melting away from the burning spear, and as gravity carries Preston to the ground the remnants of the gore clinging to his spearhead cook away and the last of their acidic scent is carried away by a chill breeze. All the same, he flicks the tip with a disgusted flourish and looks up with dispassionate serenity at the beast while Godric curls around his knees and growls up at it.
Vette is a fast learner. She goes running for a manhole cover reasonably near the snake, flings herself down as she has to duck a flying freaking CAR, and then lights an entire pack of matches, and tosses them through the holes in the cover. She's immune to fire after all, and the fact that it scorches at her hand doesn't bother her in the least. Her puzzleboxes again glow redhot as she bolsters the flame from the methane below, attempting to geyser that snake as it moves.
"FUCK!" shouts a hurting Dee as a whole bunch of current goes through her. Very important lesson learned, about playing with electricity. Feeling a lot like a bug that just hit a zapper, her whole body tenses and she drops. Chances are she doesn't enjoy hitting the ground either, but she's too busy being stunned and twitching to say anything else unladylike. Yet.
The manhole puffs fire. Sort of. Whether the frigid air has had some impact on the methane below or if the sewers simply aren't that ignitable the fireball simply does not do much. A mini whoosh of air as it bursts into the air near the snake which quickly fades away. A few scales show a little smokey residue, but it's hard to tell if much more damage was done what with all the violent thrashing.
The wounded snake is still missing a chunk of it's tongue, head darting this way and that as it waves through the streets doing no small amount of collateral damage in the process. It sports several nasty looking wounds at this point but it is still an incredibly large foe. This time Scrivner is not hit with another venom cloud, instead it lunges forward at the man in a dizzying blur of motion to try to impale him with those elongated venom coated fangs in the same nature it tried to skewer Vette earlier. A snapping motion which might well actually rend any mortal so unfortunate as to be the target in half.
He has to back away, or he is going to die. Fortune favours the brave and all that, but there's this thing about caution being the better part of valor. Or something. Scrivner has made his strike and he breaks away from the head to shoot further down the thrashing body. His jaw is so tightly gritted it hurts his teeth, and the freezing agony slowly recedes as his flesh heals and mends the damage that had been done to him from that venom. In seconds, he's whole and no longer dying. He whirls around in the air and darts a glance at Preston's attack, and that is where he strikes next. So much damage has already been done to the blasted scales and charred body.
Sweeping his blade down, Scrivner catches sight of fang coming for him and whirls around, snarling as he brings up the sword to deflect the incoming strike. "Bastard!" he snarls, feeling the jarring pain shriek its way up his arm as metal again clatters against bone. He draws up his sword, then he plummets down towards the body, intending to drive it down and slice open the flesh where Preston has already begun to work. He wants to see this thing's guts spilled.
Inside of the meth kingdom, Gibbs has an easy time of unlocking the door. It only has a deadbolt with a twist knob and three of those annoying chain latches at key structural points. He opens the door and props it open with a chair from the lab, moving out to the street to direct Erika to it.
Once Erika is in position, Gibbs sets to work. He moves onto the street proper and launches at a surviving scaffold, using it the way only a master athlete could use it to rapidly gain the high ground on the enormous snake. Norman crests the scaffolding with a flip, using a cross-bar on the lower level as an uneven bar to build momentum enough to hurl himself up and over onto the top level.
The Special Agent promptly moves onto the roof of the building and takes a knee, drawing a bead upon the snake's head. While he lines up his shot, Gibbs faintly murmurs his apologies to Damballa for having to assist in the taking of the life of a fellow serpent.
As Scrivner hastens to attack the charred, bubbling wound he's just made, Preston steps to one side and dips his head in a quick salute to acknowledge his cousin. Then he leaps straight upward with the blazing light of his spear reflected by his coppery form and chasing its way brightly up the serpent's frigid bulk like a spotlight and then rising in the night like a golden ribbon before resolving into a steady point of light as he seems to hover for a moment, high overhead. The light reverses its course like a line drawn across the sky, streaking toward Apophis's back. Preston descends with his muscles tensed, poised to conspire with gravity to deliver a brutal strike into the thing's spine. It's too vast to be pinned, but perhaps he can hobble it.
"Time is waiting…"
Erika looks expectantly towards Gibbs as if waiting for him to say "We only got 4 Minutes to have the world." because that would be highly apropos. But alas, he didn't say it. That ruined her cool moment for her. Sadpout. There's a wry grin as she went in and found whats he needed. There was a little bit of this. A little bit of that. And it's then that she brings out with a series of very dangerous compounds, blueish-green in color. There's a cackle of glee, as expected of a mad scientist as she looks towards the others. "You gotta get in line, tick tock, tick tock.." she says with a wry grin as she dashes towards the torso of the snake, wanting to avoid the head to set down her mighty explosives.
"Gibbs, love. Shoot the pretty blue green vials, kay?" she tells him over their tac com link while she places it up and down the snake.
Coming around a corner, Lin finds the Oil Tanker. "Yes!" He cheers and runs over to the Tanker, kissing the hood. He looks around for something to shove into the gas tank. "Uhh..Oh hell." He rips a large piss of his shirt and shoves into into the tank. He starts it up and moves the the tanker until it is in front of the large Snake Monster. "Okay, now or never." He climbs out to light the piece of cloth before jumping in and drives as fast as he can Titanspawn. He holds on before jumping out at the last minute.
That sucked so much, but Dee can either lay there and feel sorry for herself while she enjoys the terrific pain of the zap and the fall, or get her ass up and try again. She chooses the latter, despite that she's also seeing kind of double. She is so not trying that again, but there must be alternatives. From her pack is taken a small block. She's a thief and a safecracker, and sometimes those darned stubborn safes need a little extra boom. That's where the c4 comes in. She has to take a moment to fit the blasting cap though, before throwing it at the thing's mouth. Hopefully she won't kill herself this way like she tried to with the live wire.
It may be an immensive and massive snake but the forces arrayed against it have proven especially impressive today. First there comes the leaping figure of Preston, that spear of shimmering light cleanly cleaving through scale and spine to stun Aphophis for several moments as the great serpent is still as a grave. Dee's tossed C4 detonates near the head, sending it rocking to the side with a spray of more black ichorous blood. It's hurt. So very hurt, and yet it has no idea what is to come. Even as Gibbs carefully aimed shot precisely finds those explosives Lin is leaping free of the trunk rushing headlong towards Aphosis' prone torso and the combined force of them is a powerful blast that shatters the remaining windows around them and actually causes a small mush room cloud of fiery debris and black ichorous rain to fall upon the nearby city. Apophis lies broken, dead, white flesh on fire in over a dozen places and a sickly stench drifting through the streets of the Bronx.
The streak of golden light that descends from the sky in the wake of the initial explosion seems more subdued, as the killing intent that had driven it before has given way to a mix between exhilaration and serenity. Preston saw the impending firestorm coming from his perch atop the snake and was quick to tear his spear free of its rippling back to leap well clear of the farthest reaches of the blast. Even so, his copper-hued second skin is sooty and his clothing disheveled as he touches lightly down upon the street nearby. He looks about, finding faces both familiar and not, to raise his spear to in a silent salute as he grins from ear to ear.
He too can see it coming. Scrivner's eyes widen as he pulls up from the snake, the tip of his blade just missing the thrashing body, a final strike denied. Is he going to complain? Hell no. Shooting forward and away from the massive creature, looking off to one side to the man with the golden spear, the Englishman briefly lifts his hand in a salute of respect and a wave. Impressive work there. But soon his eyes go flickering down in search of someone else, and finding her, Rufus swoops down to snatch at Vette and lift her away with him, to get both her and himself the Hell away from this thing as it dies.
The blast mostdeinitely sends Erika flying even as she's running her godsdamned fastest asshecan. With the shockwave of the explosive behind her, she dives into a nearby alley avoiding getting barbequed. However, she's scuffed. She's bruised. There's smudged of ash on her cheeks and of course there's the exposed midriff. Fate likes doing shit like that. Now she truly looks like Megan Fox from Transformers. Take that childhood!
"Gibbs, this is Erika. You okay?"
Dee can see it coming. She just can't do enough about it. Normally, she's pretty fast. This is not her best moment. Still slower than she should be, she does take off as she realizes there's about to be an Earth-shattering Ka-Boom. She already knows she won't get away entirely, and she doesn't. Caught in the blast, she goes into what remains of a destroyed wall. Oof. It has not been Dee's night.
Lin hits the ground painfully, bouncing off pavement (that isn't normally made for bouncing.) Before he can get off the ground and catches his breath, he is awashed in flame and force as the massive explosion goes off. The force sends him bouncing further down the street. He is lucky to be armored to help protect him from all of the fire and bouncing. He slowly gets to his feet, looking around for the others. "Everybody okay?" He calls out.
Preston watches Apophis's last fitful twitches from a safe distance, while Godric bounds up to nudge his head up beneath the young man's hand. This snaps him from his reverie and he's inspired to look around to see if anyone is hurt. As it happens, Lin makes a more prominent display with his rolling to a stop, but when he watches the man stand up, he gives him a sharp nod and looks elsewhere. Dee, on the other hand, looks fairly busticated. He heads over her way, resting his spear across his shoulder. "Over here," he says, motioning in the direction he's headed. He hasn't stopped looking around to see if anyone else is hurt, but Scrivner, who looked to be taking the worst of Apophis's abuse, has already flown away.
Dee isn't in right now. If you'd like to leave a message - or perhaps administer some first aide…
From his perch on the roof, Gibbs snipes the vials that Erika scattered in front of Apophis. He doesn't do it right away though, oh no, he does it just as Lin's gorram oil tanker comes hurtling into his field of view. Parallel Attention has kept him aware of it by sound alone, but now it's in his line of sight which can mean only one thing.
Vials detonate in great fountains of flame and explosive force around Apophis' exposed belly scutes. The combined force enough to actually lift the front of the tanker before it explodes and propels itself into the rapidly crispifying critter. Burning ichor and serpent scale rains down on Gibbs, who looks as pointedly neutral as ever even as he is propelled across the roof top by the enormous series of explosions.
It takes a few moments before Norman can answer Erika, the Special Agent having to dig himself out of smoldering snake bits and building supplies. He looks around and examines himself - no blood, no foul - before he queues his taccomm.
"I'm fine. Yourself?"
The backdraft of the blast knocks Scrivner forward through the air, and with some fast twists and turns, he manages to ride the current up and avoid getting splatted against the side of a building like a bug against a car's windscreen. He slows and comes to an eventual stop, landing lightly on the ground. With an upwards sweep of his arm he sheathes his sword, and easing Vette down to her feet, he looks down at her face. "Vette," he murmurs, before he seizes her and pulls her close, wrapping his arms tightly around her to embrace her. He brushes his cheek up against the side of her head as he looks beyond her shoulder, searching for anyone injured. The creature might be dead… but there's a lot of damage that's been done.
"I… I'm fine."
There's a sigh of relief under her breath as she brushes off the smudgey ickyness off her clothes. "Call Damballah and I'll call Ozy. We'll regroup and figure out just what happened and what's going on. Think you can cut me a piece of that snakey goo beforeyou go?" Erika asks. "Need to add it to the database.
Lin looks down at himself, wanting to dust himself off, but he just shrugs. Why bother. He looks over at the others. "Well…yeah. Anybody need boots?" He tries to joke with the others.
"I think I saw Dee get hurt," Vette says, as she brings herself under control at last. "Can you see her?" She is still feeling a little lightheaded from all of that, really.
There's a little movement from the spot under the wall where Dee hit it. "ow…" she mutters quietly.
Preston hunkers down next to Dee and looks her over, initially wary of moving her too much. As it happens, he does know some first aid, and once he's got a rough estimate of her condition he'll do what he can to help her. He looks up to chuckle at Lin's comment and adds, "There's enough of him to make shoes for everyone in the city." When Dee starts to move on her own he leans back a bit to give her room. "How do you feel? I mean, besides miserable? Do you think you can walk?"
Gibbs holsters his gun and runs forward, smoking snake scales flying off of his person like dandruff. He vaults the edge of roof and half-swings, half-falls downward into the first blown out window below. Norman continues to do this, rappelling down the building in a series of carefully coordinated, exceptionally athletic falls.
From there, Norman approaches the remains of Apophis. He queues up his taccomm to another frequency and murmurs, "Pick up time, Damballah. Door-to-door service, please."
A moment later, a black Dodge Viper comes ripping around a corner several blocks away and roars up the street toward Gibbs. Norman, in the mean time, tries to butcher a piece of Apophis so he can get Erika a sample.
Dee mutters to Preston "Probably not. Good thing I can fly…"
Looking about, keeping the lady in the circle of his arm, Scrivner finally spots little Miss Dee, lying like a crumpled heap of pain. "There she is," he grimly murmurs, tapping Vette upon the back and then sweeping her up around the waist. Carrying her like she's a sack of potatoes, hoisting her up over his shoulder, the Aesir skims through the air and across the rubble and debris in the street till he lands on the ground beside Dee, not far from Preston and Lin. "Miss Floros?"
It totally sounds like an excited frat dude. Whizzing through the streets dodging all sorts of snake parts like one of those Mazda Zoom Zoom commercials is Ozymandias, the yellow Volkswagen Beetle. Yes, she didn't name him Bumblebee for he is a camaro now. Eventually, the bug parks in front of the alleyway as she starts hobbling over.
"Took you long enough." she grumps as she heads in and lets him drive home.
Preston grimaces sympathetically, nodding slowly. "Well, do you need anything?" He's poised to fuss a bit more when Scrivner lands, and the dancer turns to regard him with a broad grin. "I think she'll make it," he offers. "How about you guys? That was pretty rough at first." He glances to Dee and amends, "Well, pretty much the whole way right up until the end, I guess."
Lin takes a quick head count before sighing out. He chuckles out about the flying. "Well, everybody should get some rest. We can meet up later to plan some more?"
Dee is silent at first, then suggests "A bottle of really good single malt?" Though, then she says "I just need to get better. This isn't over yet." In reply to Rufus then, "Mr. Scrivner?" She isn't in a rush to get up.
"I am alright," Vette tells Preston. Then she says, "Dee, did you get any first aid? Do you need any? I can certainly try a little. I'm no healer, but…I can try a little bit."
Despite how /dead/ tired he is, Scrivner finds himself smiling back at Preston and Dee. He cannot quite help it. It's only just now sinking in that they /won./ They took down that thing. It's rather a nice feeling, that victory. Of course, thinking about what Aphophis did to New York and countless innocents dampens the brightness of his smile, until it more closely resembles a wry grimace. "Good to see you made it out alive, Miss Floros," he solemnly says. Then, turning his eyes to Lin, he nods briskly in agreement to that. Last, but not least, he turns his gaze to Preston, then he offers his hand for a shake. "Rufus Scrivner," he says in introduction. "Son of Tyr. I believe we're all right, thank you."
Noting the recognition between Dee and the others gathered around her, Preston opts to entrust her care to her friends rather than impose, offering a quick smile in lieu of further bothering. He turns and stands, eagerly shaking his cousin's proffered hand. "Preston Masterson," he answers. "Scion of Baldur." After a moment he adds his agreement. "I think we all made it more or less okay. Now for the rest. We'll have the rest of this sorted out soon enough, now that Snakezilla isn't an issue. That reminds me, should we maybe…well, we should definitely move it, but should we take some…skin or something? I used to think trophy-taking was kind of tacky until I learned why we do it."
"Erika. Do we have room for guests?"
Gibbs may be listening in on the others with his Telescopic Senses while he fights to carve off a piece of Apophis. This is just not his area of expertise though and it probably shows. On the other hand, team building and asset management? Well, he might just be good at that.
There's silence over the comm for a few moments. But still, there's an answer as the revving of the engine can be heard as she starts to turn back towards the Bronx.
"I'll come back to make room for more. My car can handle more people anyway."
Since there are introductions being made, Dee offers in her uneven, pathetic sort of voice "Hi. Dee. Daughter of Hermes. And yeah. Take, if you can. Don't let any of it go to waste. Rufus, do you remember the prophecy I told you? As many of us as possible should hear it."
Gibbs turns from his toils, pulling his very haggard looking combat knife out of the small dent he has made in Apophis' flesh. He looks toward the others and lifts a lightly charred, sooty hand to his lips. A moment later he issues a sharp, loud whistle that seems to hang in the cold air.
A cousin. Rufus is left staring at Preston for a moment as /that/ one sinks in, and slowly, the smile comes back to his face. "Pleasure to meet you," he says, soon releasing the younger man's hand. "If there's anything to salvage from it, yes, we most certainly should. Granted, I don't know /what/ would be useful from it. The skin, perhaps? One of the eyes…" He glances over at Vette, then back down at Dee. "I do remember it, yes," he says. "Preston, have you heard the prophecy? The one that begins with, 'The Flame of the Heavens has awakened…?'"
"I'm Vette, Daughter of Hephaestus," the red head in the motorcycle stuff says. She sounds a little absent as she stares at the snake, trying to figure out what it's good for. "I'm working on it, Rufus, I'm just trying to remember."
Eventually, Gibbs can hear the screech of the Volkswagen Beetle and there's Erika popping out. She's even wearing that pink shirt from Transformers too. She heads on over the goopey snake parts and idly runs her fingers through her hair as she looks over the corpse before the gathered Scions.
"They're having a party."
"Likewise," Preston enthuses to Scrivner. " It's great to meet you. All of you," he adds, dipping his head to the assembled as his grin brightens a few notches. He sobers as he's asked about the prophecy, and looks uncertain for a moment before shaking his head. "My father warned me to watch the skies for a sign, but no, I haven't heard any actual prophecy."
Lin listens as everyone introduces himselves. He chuckles out. "And I am Lin of Yan Luo." He says with a grin. "And I was the kind of riding in you the other night." He says with a grin. He looks off. "I think I am going to head back into town. I am sure our new Overlords will be sending their people soon anyway."
"I rather agree. They don't even hear me whistling."
Gibbs folds his arms across his chest and then looks back at Erika. One brow arched, the Special Agent regards her and the chunk o' snake behind her evenly for several long moments. Thoughtfully he reaches back and brushes some hair out of her face before refolding his arms across his chest and looking back at the others.
"Hey. Do you want a safehouse for the night or not?"
Colour him out of it. Scrivner turns his head to blink over at Erika and Gibbs. Whatever he'd been about to say is momentarily forgotten as he stares at the pair, and after a second to think that one through, he inclines his head. "Ahh… Yes, please?" he calls back in answer. With that, he bends to gather up Dee into his arms, since she's still apparently unable to get to her feet. Shooting a glance up at Preston, he says, "I can tell it to you on the way?"
Vette suddenly goes, "Ah! We can make cloaks out of the skin. It will give the wearers death senses, and a healing gift." Vette looks pleased and then looks back over at Gibbs. "Hmmm? Oh. Well yes. That would be quite sensible."
"Pack into the cars. I will deliver samples of the snake later," replies Gibbs. He gestures toward Damballah and Ozymandias while he waits. Norman keeps his arms folded across his chest, watching the others with a thoughtful expression.
"Sorry!" Preston exclaims, genuinely contrite as he raises a hand to wave to Gibbs and Erika. He grimaces apologetically and then adds "Thank you!" as he accepts the invitation to join the others. He hesitates a moment before looking to Godric. "Go home, boy," he instructs. "Watch Gayle. I'll be home soon." The enormous canine bobs his head and barks happily before turning and bounding…up to the nearest rooftop to begin the trip home.
Erika nods as she gives Gibbs a warm smile even as he brushes some hair out of her face. She wraps her arms around one of his as she nods and gives a friendly two fingered salute towards the gathered Scions. See, she can get along with others and play nice! But then again, she does have new Titanspawn samples, more entries to put in her database and there's autopsies to perform. Today was a good day.
"We should be able to take all of you. Awww the puppy isn't going." Sadpout.
With his bundle of semi-conscious Dodekatheon woman, Rufus makes his way forward and musters up a smile for the pair. "Indeed, thank you," he says, walking up to the car so he can shove Dee into the backseat and get her settled. He glances over his shoulder to make sure that Vette is nearby, ready to shove her into the car next to Dee if he has to.
Vette, though, will get in the car on her own. "Or did that gift do something else? I shall have to consult my notes—in any event, terribly useful…"
"I will deliver as many samples as possible."
Gibbs offers a charming smile because, hey he's absurdly man-pretty, he can pull off charming smiles. The Special Agent pats Erika's hand as he watches the others load into the vehicles.
"I didn't want to crowd the car," Preston offers, rather than elaborate as to the entire reason why he sent Godric home. "I'll take up enough space with this thing," he nods to the spear carried over his shoulder. "I should probably head back home myself, but this way I extend my curfew a little bit." He grins broadly at this, apparently some inside joke. With the puppy to reassure her, his girlfriend won't be so quick to think the worst. "Anyway, where are we headed?" He climbs in with the others, careful to avoid brushing up against anyone's boo-boos. He made it through completely unscathed, somehow.
Any additional notes fall to the bottom.