edge_of_forever | Entries tagged with pc:erik lehnsherr

The void of space is momentarily interrupted by the presence of the spacecraft Persephone: a mid-sized ship on a mission of exploration, research, and interplanetary commerce and cultural exchange. She is operated by a crew of anywhere between 15 [skeleton] and 60 [full compliment] from all walks of life. She represents a Consortium of Planets, and her home port is Earth.

In addition to the crew, there is a lively contingent of passengers aboard at any given moment. One of the goals of the Consortium is to promote interplanetary exchange, and they view safe passage as a public service. Papers to travel with Persephone are easily obtained at your home world's embassy on any Consortium affiliated planet. There is a basic background check and standard set of physical examinations, of course, but nothing troubling or invasive.

They've been en route between planetary systems for three weeks now, and life is unremarkable. Routine. There is an air of purposeful contentment.

nebaritralk

Chiana had to have told about half the people on board, upstairs and downstairs people alike, that she was planning to enjoy the pool all morning long, and that they were free to join in. Chiana had even spent a couple of hours with the replicators, first, and there was a group of bottles gathered on one of the plastic tables by the pool. Because it wasn't a pool party without alcohol. If anyone had it in mind to have a quiet swim that morning, it was a shame - and, more to the point, not happening.

Today, the pool wouldn't be about fitness, it would be about fun.

born_guilty

There's about two hours left on the clock, and there are a handful of people milling around the Porta.

Mystique is locked and loaded, but otherwise completely tuned out of the proceedings, entrenched in a mindnumbing solitaire tournament on her comm. She's sitting on the stairs that lead to the upper concourses, sparing a glance at the big clock every now and again to compare it to the one on her screen.

She hears something that makes her look up-- something that sounds almost like garbled radio static from afar-- but then it's gone, and she drags a four of clubs across her screen to the proper pile.

Then, all three doors to the upper concourse burst open.

Raven's on her feet and swerving her aim between the three groups of people-- new people-- hustling down the stairs and-- oh, good-- armed to the teeth.

A quick head count gives her fifteen, but then she hears shouting from behind and sees two men flanking another who's hunched over the computer terminal, and that holds her attention. She trains her aim on them; meanwhile, Rogers is shouting, a few guns have gone off, and to call it chaos is really selling the element of surprise short.

The clock reads 002:05:48.

morethanhuman

It was the light that woke him. Just a slight change in the brightness of the room, but it was enough to draw Erik from sleep. He blinked, his eyes still blurry, at first only able to register the blinking.

He sat up, frowning, rubbing hard at his eyes with the heels of his hands, twisting to look over at his window with a sense of dread slowly building in his stomach.

107:53:05... 04... 03...

The sight of the countdown put Erik in motion instinctively, almost mindlessly. He vaulted to his feet, grabbed a shirt and tugged it on, calling his communicator to him with a wave of his hand. As soon as it smacked into his palm, he pressed his thumb to the screen and dialed Mystique, heading for the door while it rang. No sooner had he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway than someone smacked into him, sending him reeling, the communicator bouncing out of his hand onto the floor.

sharpshooting

Since Pullo's party it had felt to John like the entire station was holding its breath. Waiting for what, he couldn't be sure, but he was certain the monsters hadn't been the end of whatever the station was building towards. He went about with that nagging sensation of having forgotten something, and he didn't think he was the only one. Everyone seemed subdued; not quite nervous, but never entirely relaxed.

Well, John had had quite enough of tiptoeing around. Back home it would be the height of summer-time, and it seemed stupid not to enjoy it. At this point even fake sunlight was better than none, and he said as much in his invitation. The arboretum provided more than enough space for everyone to gather, and it wasn't hard to enlist a few people to help put up a few tent poles and a sheet for a makeshift canopy. Tea, lemonade and a boozy punch of dubious colour (but refreshing taste) were set out, along with a very random assortment of biscuits which he hoped would be augmented by people bringing their own offerings.

Soon the space was buzzing with people, and John sat contentedly on the grass, sipping a glass of lemonade. It may have been a frivolous way to spend an afternoon, but there was an old saying (one almost as British as tea-time itself) about gathering rosebuds which John thought was all the justification he would ever need.

[You know the drill; tag in, tag each other, tag everyone!]

Current Location: the arboretum

xiii_legion

Once all the bodies are disposed of and the station is hammered (more or less) back into place Pullo figures it's time for a celebration. Everybody seems a bit down in the dumps, which is understandable - there's nothing left to kill, and that can make anyone a bit grumpy. But they had been stunningly successful at the killing they did do, and that deserves a party.

After a few days of preparation the hall is ready. The theme, if it could be said to have one, seems to be meat - there's a large variety of roasted and smoked meats threatening to buckle a table along with various other fruits, fish and breads, and enough scarves and tapestries adorning the walls to keep even Lady Troi happy. Most importantly, there's amphoras of wine all over the place as well as copious amounts of the harder spirits he liberated from some of the busted-open tavern rooms on the upper floors of the station. A makeshift altar to Fortuna stands along one wall - he has no idea how observant people are and whether they'll be smart enough to leave offerings to the goddess, but might as well give them the chance, eh?

Pullo was meant to be a legionary, there's no doubt about that. But as far as other careers go, party-planner wouldn't be the worst option... as long as you're happy with a bacchanal for every occasion.

eof_classified

<00:01:ψ> INITIATE PROGRAM< ABERDEEN.EXE
<00:00:00:0001> PROGRAM INITIATED< ABERDEEN.EXE
PROGRAM LAUNCH< 00:01:ψ | 03:19:00:0000>
PRIME DIRECTIVES:<
> [ QUARANTINE RELEASE : < 1 M1A TS-#1758 > < 1 M2A TS#1000kw “EXCALIBUR” > < 1 M3A TS#4591971, TS#4591972> < 2 M2A TS#1979-1-TS#1979-3, TS#1979-1A-1E > < 3 M1A TS #4205A-E > < 3 M2A TS #731-12A-12E > < 3 M3A TS #MIR899-01A-01J > < 3 M4A TS #183RC-5A-5E “LICKER” > < 4 M1A TS #4781-8A-8G > < 4 M2A TS-#1966 > < 5 M1A TS-#396739 > < 5 M2A TS #510105 > ]
> [ LOCK DISENGAGE : < 2 M2A CP #23 > < 2 M3A CP #6319 “RIPLEY” > ]

<00:01:ψ> LAUNCH PROGRAM< ABERDEEN.EXE
<00:00:00:0001> PROGRAM INITIATED<
RUN<
> ALL DIRECTIVES:)

MAY 29 | 12:00 A.M. :

The countdown clocks tick over to zero just as the time changes from 11:59 pm to 12:00 am. A clear chime like an elevator announcing its arrival sounds briefly in every room on board, but otherwise the passage of the countdown’s completion goes unmarked.

DING!

And then, on every floor of the station, doors that have heretofore remained locked begin to open, and one by one the things that those doors were keeping in begin to crawl out.

morethanhuman

Erik stands in the middle of the shuttle bay, one hand extended palm-up in front of him. Far overhead, almost at the top of the shuttle bay, Lwaxana’s shuttle hovers in midair. His eyes narrow, Erik curls his fingers in a little come-here gesture. A rush of power that's lain dormant in him for over a year surges out through his fingertips, and the shuttle hurtls toward him. It swoops down, passing so close over his head that the breeze from its passing ruffles his hair.

He can’t rein in a laugh-- it's been too long since he’s felt this, the full depth of his power wholly at his command-- and it bubbles up in him, exhilarating and wild, spilling out as he sweeps his hand out in another long gesture, sending the shuttle flying back up to the ceiling.

There's a sigh behind him and he turns, grinning, while the shuttle zooms around the room. “If you’re bored already, don’t let me keep you.”

"I'm sorry, did that read as an I'm bored sigh?" Mystique asks, sidling up to him with an uncharacteristically playful smile. "This is admiration. This is 'my god, you look good with ten tons of metal hovering over you'."

She crosses her arms and watches him hurl the thing back up a second time.

"But you're missing ( something... )

The shuttle lowers gently to the ground and Erik’s eyes go fierce, a wide grin breaking over his face. “Come on,” he says, striding toward the door.

. . .

They're not even thirty feet from the door when Raven sees it start to tremble in its frame.

Then all of a sudden, it stops. She glances at him and sees he's changed his focus: he's disregarding the door entirely, peeling layers off the wall, the metal rolling up and crumpling like paper until she can see the inventory shelves through the frame. There's a mess of wires, smoking and spitting sparks, but it doesn't stop Erik from stepping through.

Sure, it's petty, but Raven can't resist swiping her comm in front of the half-dead sensor; it gives a sad, bleating no access beep just as she lifts one white boot over the jagged wall.

How do you like me now, HAL?

"They're organized by serial number," she says with a frown, eyeing the tags on the front of the shelves. She pulls open one at random and sees a stack of filthy, bloodstained clothing: nope. Another: a pink vest and a cell phone covered in stickers. Another-- ooh-- has a duffel bag labeled STARK TECHNOLOGIES-- definitely worth checking out once she's found her stuff.

Finally, she pulls open the right drawer. She locks and loads her Glock with a look that's somehow both affectionate and smug, then glances over to see Erik holding his helmet up to the flickering light.

“I’ve always said it takes a very special guy to inspire fear in red and purple,” she says dryly, applying a fresh coat of lipstick in the grainy reflection of the shelves. “I think I just got goosebumps.”

[see the OOC post here before tagging.]

sharpshooting

The tray full of hyposprays looked grim in the soft lighting of their imagined sick bay. John had to admit the holodeck had proven useful beyond his expectations-- even if the end result they'd reached was less of a sure thing than he was really comfortable with.

This is going to work, he told himself for the hundredth time. It was a far cry from a guarantee, but the results had been promising with Forge. Really, Lauren and Sherlock had been right: they didn't have the time to spend on being completely sure. It was their last hope. They had to take it.

He picked up the first vial and slid it into its casing, bending over his first patient-- Mrs. Troi, as it happened-- and pressing it to her neck. She stirred, and John began to speak in a quiet tone that effectively masked the relief he felt. "You're waking up now, Mrs. Troi. Take slow breaths, don't move around too much just yet, and I'll be by with a glass of water for you in just a moment."

John looked up and met Lauren's eyes where she stood giving a similar speech to Dr. Banner. She returned his little smile in wordless acknowledgment: the antidote was working, at least for now.

[see the OOC post here for more info.]

proserpinian

<5:01:ψ | 24:00:00:0000> INITIATE PROGRAM< HEMLOCK.EXE
<24:00:00:0001> PROGRAM INITIATED< HEMLOCK.EXE
PROGRAM LAUNCH< 5:01:ψ | 09:00:00:0000>
PRIME DIRECTIVES:<
> [ CLIMATIZATION : < O2:20.94% > < N:78.08% > < +CCl₈O | “HEMLOCK” > < TEMP: 19ºC>

<5:01:ψ | 08:00:00:0000> LAUNCH PROGRAM< HEMLOCK.EXE
<08:00:00:0001> PROGRAM INITIATED<
RUN<
> ALL DIRECTIVES:)

MAY 1 | 8:00 A.M. :

At 08:00 on the Proserpina, a colorless gas begins pumping through the air vents of Floors 1-5, initially detectable only by the inconspicuous but distinct smell of freshly cut grass.

Any subjects containing the specific nanites which restrain preternatural ability will experience a gradual decline in health, beginning with a vasovagal syncope response and followed by cardiac arrest within several hours. These subjects will find themselves experiencing a range of typical presyncope symptoms such as dizziness, blurred vision, muscle weakness, hallucinations and lightheadedness for their remaining two-to-three minutes of consciousness.

Subjects without the aforementioned nanites will be unaffected by CCl₈O.

As of HEMLOCK.EXE’s program launch, CCl₈O will be a standard element in the Proserpina’s air mix.

6seasonsandamovie

It's 6:03 pm.

Abed isn't wearing a watch (and his communicator is as dead as everybody else's), but Troy is. The lights flicker overhead for the first time, and Abed simply says, "Watch." It's enough for Troy to raise his arm and twist it so the digital watch is facing Abed. 6:03.

The lights flicker again, and this time there is a murmur of unease rippling among the group.

"Time for the next stage of creepiness," Abed foretells in a whisper only Troy should hear.

The lights flicker a third time, and then the room goes dark. Pitch dark.

Troy pushes a button on his watch, and the small numbers are suddenly shining blue. 6:04. Not so pitch dark anymore.

Almost immediately, Captain America's voice rises above the others - who else. Abed really wishes his communicator would let him film. This has 'found footage horror movie' stamped all over it.

"Don't panic!" Steve calls out, probably unknowingly quoting Douglas Adams. "There are flashlights, we'll get them now. Don't move and risk injuring yourself."

In a whisper, Troy asks, Do you think we're going to die?

Abed blinks, thinks, and answers, in the same whisper, "Probably not you."

proserpinian

<4:22:ψ | 24:00:00:0000> INITIATE PROGRAM< LOCKDOWN.EXE
<24:00:00:0001> PROGRAM INITIATED<
PROGRAM LAUNCH< 4:22:ψ | 06:00:00:0000>
PRIME DIRECTIVES:<
> [ ALARM : < KS#20-19: AIR RAID > < PS#08771-5: CODE BLACK > ]
> [ DEFENSE : < SECURE ALL GRIDS: F1-F5 > < ENABLE “F3-G3: SANCTUARY”>
> [ CLASSIFIED ]
> [ DISENGAGE : < SANCTUARY: “MOBILE” > < COMMUNICATORS: ONLINE > < REPLICATORS: ONLINE > ]
> [ CLASSIFIED ]
> [ CLIMATIZATION : < O2:36% > < N:64% > < Ar:0.12% > < Kr:0.09% > < Ne:0.10% > < TEMP: 19ºC>10ºC> ]

<4:22:ψ | 06:00:00:0000> LAUNCH PROGRAM< LOCKDOWN.EXE
<06:00:00:0001> PROGRAM INITIATED<
RUN<
> ALL DIRECTIVES:)

April 22 | 6:00 A.M. :

The sirens begin blaring at 6:00 sharp. As the residents of the Proserpina scramble out of bed or halt in their early morning routine, many of them reach for their communicators only to find them unresponsive. The home screen has been replaced by an interactive map, meant to guide them from where they are in that moment on the station to the Porta Ianulis. It proves impossible to exit the map program.

Soon after the sirens begin, an announcement begins to play, in a similar style to the announcements for docking missions: a calm, clear voice directing residents to the Porta.

[ This is a critical message. Code black. Please calmly proceed to the Porta Ianulis. Repeat: this is a code black critical message. Please calmly proceed to the Porta Ianulis for further instruction. ]

The message repeats once every three minutes.

As the residents exit the room they were in at the time of the announcement: their room, the training area, the kitchen, they will find that the door locks behind them, and that they have no access to it, or to any of the rooms on the station. The hallways and the open areas of the Proserpina are dark, lit by sparsely placed, brilliant white floodlights instead of the usual twenty-four hour recessed lighting along the walls and floors.

Those perceptive enough will note a ten degree drop in temperature, and perhaps even a change in the composition of the now oxygen-rich air.

Once the residents have entered the Porta Ianulis, a new announcement begins. The sirens continue. Communicator maps update locations, and now direct residents to the third floor: a room labelled SANCTUARY, along with the overhead voice.

[ Critical message. Code black. Please proceed to Floor 3 via the turbolifts. Please remember each turbolift may hold a maximum of 1500 kilograms. Repeat: this is a code black critical message. Please calmly proceed to Floor 3 via the turbolifts to await further instruction. ]

As the residents load themselves into the turbolifts in small groups, the temperature continues to drop.

Upon reaching the third floor, communicators will once again update their location, now guiding the residents to the room labelled SANCTUARY. A new overhead announcement begins:

[ Full security now in effect. This is a critical message. Code black. Please proceed in an orderly fashion to the sanctuary: grid one, room three. Repeat: please proceed to the sanctuary to await further instruction. Lockdown procedures commencing. ]

“SANCTUARY”, a formerly unknown and inaccessible room, is now responding to all communicators.

[ Before tagging in, please refer here. After the doors shut, this can be heard playing over the speakers. ]

xiii_legion

"...well okay," Pullo was saying, "I'm sure you think that's true, but you have to admit, my explanation makes just as much sense." 'Giant balls of gas' indeed. He snorted as he dealt out the cards - one, two to them both - and then laid the next three face-up on the table. A three, eight, and a King, which didn't do much with the five and Jack that he held. He narrowed his eyes at his opponent, then reached out and tossed two bottlecaps into the pile in the middle of the table.

The table in the rec room was more 'authentic', Mystique said, though there didn't seem to be anything authentic about the bright green fuzz coating it. The lighting was certainly atmospheric, and he had hauled along several bottles of what the replicators had gifted him when he asked for bourbon, though Mystique had made a face when she tasted it. They were playing there instead of her room because supposedly there were going to be more players tonight, an eventuality that Pullo relished. Not that he didn't like playing with her, but damnit, she knew all his tells.

Which was probably why she called his bluff, and his next two bluffs, and probably why the pile of bottlecaps was much bigger on her side of the table than his, and growing.

"Godsdamnit, woman, stop taking all my money! How am I going to pay the dancing girls if you keep robbing me blind!"

[tag into any TL you like - there's no posting order, just go nuts! wheeee!]

princess_bruiser

The thing about a ninja is, a ninja doesn't need a superhero name.

A ninja is just a ninja. A ninja is a force of nature. The wind doesn't have a name, the darkness doesn't have a name, and vengeance doesn't have a name...

(But if she had a ninja name, she thinks it would probably be Kimiko Shadowborn, like the awesome girl ninja from Magic Teen Warriors : Xtreme because that is a really cool ninja name.)

And after she sneaks out of the wardrobe, she knows just who her first target is.

One of the bad mutants. She's not going to hurt them, because she's not a bad guy. She just wants them to know that the station has eyes. ...HER eyes. And that she's got their number, and they better not try anything bad. Also, she's got this costume and she just had her first ninja class with Wolverine-sensei, so she really wants to do something.

So: Magneto and Mystique. Time to track them down... ninja style.

- - -

Mystique's on her way back from a swim, wrapped in a terry robe and wearing flip-flops, when she sees something familiar-looking on the ground, just outside the Arboretum.

It's a bullet. An AK-47 shell, to be precise. Just sitting there. She looks up from where she's crouched and sees another one, farther down the hall.

What the hell...

She thinks of the block of rooms up ahead, half of which lock sporadically, and wonders if it's even remotely possible that the armory has opened up.

Later, in retrospect, the fact that a child set her up with a breadcrumb-style bullet trail and she fell for it calls for some serious self-examination.

---

Bam! Mystique walks in, and the door shuts behind her. Molly-- err, the faceless ninja-- presses a button on the wall and locks it. There's a mirror in Mystique's room, so she can see Mystique, but Mystique can't see... the ninja.

Mystique's face is priceless.

"What the #$@%?!"

"Hello, Mystique," says the ninja in her most mysterious, loudest whisper. "I think we should have a talk. ...and no more swears."

"Molly," Raven says through her teeth, looking like she's about to try busting through the glass. "Unlock the door. Now."

[ C'mon, tag in and be party to Mystique's fury and humiliation or Molly's mysterious admonishments of a former X-villain!! xD Depending on your tag-in, I'll give you one, the other, or both (and let you know via IM or email) at least until your character either frees Mystique or encourages Molly to get a new hobby. Feel free to pretend your character got the wrong door and stumble into Mystique's side, or see Molly's door open a crack. ]

Current Location: interrogation rooms; 5th floor.

brightestlight

[February 14, 2013]

Frustration with the guard situation - and the aftermath, of sorts - has Caroline and Mystique talking.

[Here|PG]

-

[February 14, 2013]

After her talk with Mystique, she goes to ask Klaus his opinion - and things don't go as planned. He goes off to pick a fight, she goes to party.

[Here|PG-13]

-

[February 14, 2013]

Klaus wants a fight, and finds one.

[Here|PG-13 (Violence)]

-

[February 15, 2013 (5AM)]

Klaus comes back a bloody mess after running into Logan, and this time, Caroline's the one who skips out when he won't tell her why his arm's made of hamburger.

[Here|PG-13]

-

[February 18, 2013]

After spending some time on her own, Caroline goes home to find all their stuff gone and a note telling her where they moved too. Caroline and Klaus talk - really talk, and she finds out why exactly he and Logan got into a fight, among other things.

[Here|PG-13]

-

[February 19, 2013 4pm]

Now that she knows why from Klaus, Caroline wants to hear Logan's side of the story... and ends up with an unexpected ultimatum.

[Here|PG-13]

-

[February 19, 2013 5pm]

... which sends Caroline to Erik's doorstep, where she has an abrupt realization.

[Here|PG]

-

[February 20, 2013 5pm]

Still, she doesn't tell Klaus, even after he surprises her with a not-exactly-a-Valentine's-Day-gift that's housed in the Inventory room.

[Here|PG-13]

withmyshield

Sharon marches into the holodeck, which is empty [apparently there aren't any takers for her challenge, and it's probably for the best -grown men crying isn't the most fun way to start a beach day] and plunks her bag down in the middle of the empty space. She looks pretty hysterical dressed the way she is standing in the middle of an empty room on a space station, but Sharon doesn't give a damn about that right now.

"OK." She puts on her sunglasses. Let's do this.

"So, I want a beach. The best one you've got, preferably from Earth. I'm talking white sand, palm trees, blue skies, possibly a bar serving nothing but drinks with little umbrellas in them. Out of coconuts. There better not be any wildlife bigger than a starfish, either. Seriously. I see a single wild boar or the suggestion of a shark and I will flip out. Your little sweeper bots will blow all their circuits cleaning up the mess I'll make." The threat sounds pathetic even as she says it, but her powerlessness has become something of a joke even to her.

"Oh yeah, we're gonna need some chairs. Maybe a hammock."

Every time she speaks, there's a soft noise as the room reconfigures to her design. In the end, Sharon is standing on a stretch of beach that seems to go on for miles, not far from a long dock at the end of which she thinks she can make out a grass-hut bar. Next to her is a canvas chair with a big red umbrella. Thoughtful. It reminds her of a vacation she took in Aruba a few years back. Well, she almost got there. Rerouted to Cuba at the last minute, but Fury had been really apologetic about it.

She sits down and pops open the sunscreen. She also doesn't care that fake sun probably isn't harmful to her skin -it's all about the smell.

morethanhuman

[March 16]

Charles finds Erik trying to push his power past its current limits and tries to offer some friendly advice.

[Here|Rated G]

commanderbond

Bond actually really bloody hated this station. The people were fine for the most part, some more than others, but the idea of being trapped for so long had really started to grate, especially on the heels of having had a taste of freedom in Jurassic Park. He could do without the dinosaurs, certainly, but he could do with more freedom.

He'd explored the fifth level to some extent but even that lost its appeal after a few days. Today, he'd decided to train - on the off chance he did end up back home eventually, he didn't want M drumming him out of MI-6 solely because he'd let his physical fitness standards go downhill.

Running first (which was less satisfying in place), then push-ups and maybe combat training if he could find a willing partner. He didn't know if there would be many on his level but certainly Barton might be, or Rogers.

It wasn't the excessively large bottle of scotch he wanted but it was possibly a wiser choice all around.

[[Find him in the sparring room!]]

morethanhuman

[March 14, 9:30 PM]

Erik goes to the kitchen for a snack. Charles finds him there. It isn't quite the reunion either of them had imagined.

[Here]

morethanhuman

[March 1, late afternoon]

After beaming down to the planet, a group of Proserpinians meets up on an unfamiliar beach to try and figure out why they're all there.

[Here|Ongoing]

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Edge of Forever RPG

November 2013

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the city on the edge of forever

[[ a pan-fandom roleplaying game ]]

Entries tagged with pc:erik lehnsherr

come sail away

Pool party

IT'S THE FIIINAL COOOUNTDOO-- WHO THE %^$& ARE YOU GUYS?!

The Final Countdown [August 1, 6:07 AM]

like a tea-tray in the sky

Fors Fortuna (GP)

(no subject)

bow in the presence of greatness

wake-up call [gathering post]

(no subject)

Gathering Post - Day 2 - 18:00

(no subject)

Ante up!

The rise of the mutant ninja.

In which there's a crisis of self.

Beach Party GP

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November 2013

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