BABY WE WERE BORN TO RUN

[maskormods]

WHO: EVERYONE
WHERE: THE STREETS OF THE CITY
WHEN: Duration of the event
WHAT: PRISONER TRANSPORT/RESCUE
WARNINGS: Violence and language likely
OOC NOTES: This is a starter log to help kick off the event. Feel free to use or post your own!

The transport process isn’t a fun one. Captured Metas are outfitted with power-nullifying handcuffs and collars, chained into the back of a heavily armored prison transport vehicle. Normally there’s a huge procession that goes alone with this: more back up vehicles, overhead support, government loyal metals in every vehicle. But this rush of new arrivals has pushed the system to its limits- there’s never been a need to accommodate more than a specific number of known Metas. It has the guards in the vehicles on edge, jumpy as they try to navigate through the City without the usual back up. And it’s a strain the resistance is more than ready to push to the breaking point.

In addition to transporting new arrivals to their reprogramming, there are the already-present Meta prisoners that must still be shuffled around, causing a mix of old and new in the vehicles. And irresistible targets for liberation for the resistance groups. When the transport is hit, which will the new Metas side with? Your captors you may still be able to gain a comfortable life working with? Or the rebellion fighting their way into the vehicle?

Comments

[fettchquest]

[Fett appears unmoved by the boy’s words, shifting neither towards violence nor retreat. It’s almost nostalgic for him, hearing the kid blather out excuses. Fett had been a fugitive himself as a boy and had more than once found himself in similar situations. He’d made it out—by talking, by fighting, and often by both. He doubts this one is capable of the same.]

What’s your name?

[fettchquest]

The black visor of Fett’s helmet doesn’t budge at the man’s glare. He waits, patiently, as the man speaks, not turning to see the others’ reactions. He doesn’t have to; the 360-degree display in his helmet gives him a generous view of the grimaces and slumping shoulders of the other prisoners as one of their own is forced to order their compliance. As a means of demoralization, it’s satisfyingly effective.

Only once the man has delivered his injunction does Fett step back, helmet dipping in a caricature of courtesy. “Reasonable of you,” he says, without warmth. “Nobody needs to get hurt.”

[germhating_hypochondriac]

[Eddie begins to wheeze as his hope disappears. The cuffs feel even tighter.  He looks into the mask, for some sign of the person inside.]

I'm Eddie. [He answers quietly.]  I really don't belong here. Can't you see that?  [He manages to say in between wheezing.] 

I need my inhaler.

rescue

[khajidont]

"Jacob?"

Jaime had been on one of the other transport vehicles that had been liberated, though he wasn't the one doing any of the liberating; in the face of this absolute bafflement, he figured that it was wisest to just lay low and to see what happens. By now, he's realized that some people aren't the people he recognized, or at least, they're different versions of themselves, so it's with caution that he approaches the other man.

"Do you remember me?"

[fettchquest]

I can see that you’re here. Whether you belong isn’t for me to decide.

[On the off-chance there was a mistake and this boy isn’t a fugitive, someone further down the line can make the decision to turn him loose. It doesn’t concern Fett—his job is making sure the cargo reaches its destination. Nothing more and nothing less.

The helmet tilts, just slightly, at Eddie’s request. Between the word itself and the wheezing sound the boy is making, Fett can guess that an inhaler is some kind of medical device to facilitate breathing. Not that Fett is convinced that the prisoner actually needs one, nor would he be able to provide one even if he did.]

You could breathe fine a few seconds ago.

Rescue

[bifroster]

Jane knew that there was going to be a rescue attempt, which was why she was in the back of the transport with other metas. Not because the government knew about the resistance’s plans, but because she insisted that having a fellow meta there who could be a positive representative for the government would help keep everyone else calm. Not that she believed anything she had said to convince them to let her travel with them.

As soon as the doors were closed, Jane pressed a button on a small device, and anything listening in on them was shut off. Nothing but static on those other ends.

She kept the conversation to light small talk, assuring them that they would not be harmed, that this was just protocol for everyone’s safety. At the same time, she was passing around a series of notes explaining that she was with the resistance and they were getting out of here.

“What about you?” one of those being transported asked.

At that, Jane smiled. “I do important work. I hate that I’m going to have to go back to it after this. A coffee break would be nice.”

In other words, Shaun and Georgia didn’t know that she was a mole … and had to stay.

But they’re ready when the grenade hits the truck. Everyone springs into action, using their powers to help shield others, get them going, avoid government agents coming to recapture them, and get to the safety of the resistance.

[monosaccharide]

Bubblegum rolls her eyes and gets to work fixing the vehicle. So showy. But effective.

More or less. As she's working, one of the prisoners they're manages to get free from their restraints. Bubblegum, still under the car, vehicle, can't make her way out fast enough. She stifles a frustrated groan and yells, "Peridot! Look out!"

[choosetruth]

Georgia is already waiting when Shaun gets to the back of the truck. Sometimes she wonders why they got the powers they got. Shaun's ability to move through walls seems so much more like it would be her thing than his, and she knows how much he'd love having her strength and flying powers.

But they work with what they've got. As soon as Shaun gets there, George tears the doors off the back of the truck and nods at the prisoners.

"Georgia Mason. Faster Than A Speeding Bulletin. We're here to rescue you."

Some have questioned whether it's wrong to get involved with a story you're writing about. Georgia understands the conflict but doesn't see how she could live with herself if she was in a position to help and didn't.

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

“Yeah,” Jacob says, words tight and bitter. “Looks like that makes two of us.”

He squints at Jonathan’s mask, trying to see the man he once knew there.

“You really don’t remember me, do you?” He says sadly.

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

“Yeah,” Jacob says bitterly. “That’s me. Reasonable.”

He does not return the nod. He already feels like an accomplice just for doing this much.

“You’re an imPort too, aren’t you?” He asks, squinting. Curiosity is probably also something that’s discouraged in this transport, but he has to try what he can. “That gear doesn’t look standard-issue.”

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

[It takes Jacob a moment to realize just where the costume-switch is leading, how far it’s going to go, and his eyes widen as the mask comes off. He’s too stunned to even think about not playing along, or refusing to relinquish his gun.]

Bruce Wayne? Is that really...?

[He breathes the question, not sure if this is really happening or just another play, masks within masks, some illusion or shape-changing gambit in the mix.]

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

Jacob stares bewildered for a moment before the quarter drops. Then, despite everything, despite the nightmare, despite being captive, despite what has turned into a really shitty day, he chuckles.

“Oh, man,” he says. “You really don’t remember me, do you?”

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

”Jaime?”

Jacob squints at him for a moment to make sure his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him out of hope, then he breaks into a grin for a moment. Then he winces- the bruises on his face right now aren’t grin-friendly. Instead, he comes forward to offer Jaime his hand.

“Damn, it’s good to see you. Sorry to see you got caught up in this, though.”

[drivesadesk]

"No. Sorry. I knew a lot of people back in my resistance days. Sometimes it all blurs together."

He's assuming he must have known this guy from the resistance, anyway. Really he has no idea.

"No offense."

[brushoff]

Dorian...just looks honestly confused, congrats Jacob, you got him there. Dorian prides himself on his memory--he never forgets a face. And yet this new Meta, this absolute stranger says that Dorian doesn't remember him? Ridiculous.

"Why should I remember you?" he says, a little irritated. "I don't even know you. Today is literally the first day that I've seen your face and honestly, it'll probably be the last."

WILDCARDS AFTER THE RESCUE CUZ I CAN

[fauxmarth]

There's no way.

Is that...?

"J-Jacob-?!"

Keeping aloft had kept her out of the hands of the initial attack, but it wasn't going to save her forever. Not that she realizes that right now, because right now, she spots the shape of someone very dear to her...or at least, she thinks she does. It can be a bit dicey making those calls from a bird's eye, yet intuition counts for a lot in her mind.

"Jacob!" she calls, swooping low before landing mere yards away. Still clad in the winter clothes she'd been spirited away in, a sword at her hip that's distinctly not Falchion, she's still very plainly herself, wide-eyed and slack jawed, searching his shape to confirm it's him.

After all, since coming here? She's realized people don't...seem to be right. Not all of them, anyway.

ALSO a wildcard bc FIGHT ME

[siriusly]

Some time after the rescue, but not that long after, there's a whole lot of barking coming Jacob's way. A Mightyena in a dirty old bandana runs up to each lingering individual to give them a sniff, some getting more attention than others, before padding over to Jacob to give him the same once-over and demand attention.

"Aah, man..."

Manabu tromps out into view, rubbing the back of his head and grimacing.

"I guess we missed everything already? Everyone's safe?"

That's what he gets for busting his motorcycle the day before, he supposes.

[the_caped_crusader]

Yeah.

[ he smirks a little, and offers his hand (despite the cuffs), and lightly jests. ]

Sorry. Meant to tell you sooner.

[fettchquest]

As the interior of the transport returns once again to order, Fett returns to a neutral stance, taking up position in a corner opposite the man. For whatever reason, the prisoner keeps talking. Asking questions. Normally, Fett would ignore him, but there’s something about the question itself that’s… odd. ’You’re an imPort too, aren’t you?’ It’s plainly nonsense—Fett is a bounty hunter, currently rendering services to the Empire. Whatever an ‘imPort’ might be, he has nothing in common with the man or any of the vehicle’s other stun-cuffed passengers.

So why does he feel like he should say yes?

There’s a long stall in which Fett says nothing, as if he is ignoring the question. And then:

“It’s not.”

Well. He ignored half of the question.

[germhating_hypochondriac]

Yeah, it is. 

[He looks into that mask again, wondering if he'd see the same blank look he'd seen in others - as if they'd all forgotten that other world. If only Bill was there, he'd have the right words to say.]

You have to know this is wrong.  Not just me being here.  All of this is wrong.  The whole fucking world, the fucking universe is wrong. You can make choices.  Make it right.

[He's worked himself up getting those thoughts out and closes eyes eyes, just wheezing, his face turning red from the effort to draw in air.]

It's an asthma attack.  [He mumbles without opening his eyes.]

[bodilesswarrior]

They've done this dance many times. Barbara knows the reputation Aegis has garnered, by now; she can't afford to be gentle with Bart. That could harm him far, far more than anything her mech can dish out. She can't shield him from the whole resistance, either; she isn't the only person who knows, but the less people who do the better.

On the bright side, Bart is no slouch at protecting himself. And she doesn't go radio silent when she's inside the mech, which means she can warn him about, say, incoming projectiles even as he dodges one of her own punches.

"Duck." It's her real voice, unaltered, low and tired. No one else will hear it.

[kid_flash_found]

There's always a lot at stake when Bart faces off with the resistance, but at least he knows that Barbara isn't actually trying to eliminate him. Her warning has him dropping, rolling to one side to try and find out who did what, even as the projectiles slam into one of the armored transports in his stead. He can't reply, since he's got an open channel with his government team, but he can trust they're still working towards the same goals.

They're playing cat and mouse, most of the time, Bart isn't sure who is what role. Today, for example, he knows the real mission is buying the resistance some time to relieve the transports of as many of the new metas as possible. And possibly some of the older transfers. People who are too valuable to be left in government hands. But he has to actually do his job as security, at least well enough to look like he's trying.

[fettchquest]

I’ve made my choice already.

[And he chose to be the hunter rather than the hunted. It’s not his problem if others chose differently.

The boy’s face is turning red as he continues to wheeze. It’s an enthusiastic display, to be sure. But Fett has watched people suffocate before. They’re usually quieter.]

You talk a lot for someone who can’t breathe.

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

Powering Jacob’s biopics requires concentration, which is why his blue glow fades the instant he sees Lucina. It’s the same reason his jaw drops and he momentarily forgets how much danger they’re all in.

“Lucina?”

He steps toward her, hesitantly at first, then in a hurry to reach her and put his arms around her.

“God. It really is you. I’m glad as hell to see you... even if it’s here.”

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

“They must have really done a number on you, didn’t they,” Jacob guesses with a sad shake of his head. Dorian might have forgotten him, but Jacob could never forget the many aggravating interactions that came from having his life graced by Dorian Gray’s presence.

“Heropa? Maurtia Falls? People seeing ghosts follow them around? None of this sounds familiar to you?” He asks, trying for something, anything resembling recognition of the world they’d been in.