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

JACOB TAYLOR - MoM MEMORIES - OTA

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

TRANSPORT

Well, this is bullshit.

Jacob had been happy. It had been over. No more war, no more fighting, just a life of teaching and rebuilding and raising a family. Then, in a flash of cosmic power and a rush of returning memories, he was an imPort again.

Not an imPort arriving in Cape Canaveral, though. No, this time he had arrived in the City, a name out of history, a legend of violence and tragedy he’d only heard second-hand from the most experienced imPorts. Before he had time to process what was happening, he was surrounded by armed personnel, bound by power-dampening cuffs, and hustled none-to-gently into a transport for ‘processing’

This is the kind of world Jacob had always feared as an imPort, the world he had fought to prevent. A world where imPorts either ran rampant over defenseless people, or were corralled and brutalized by those who feared and exploited them. In the world of Cape Canaveral, Jacob had led a government-backed team that had tried to maintain balance and keep the peace. In this world, he’s stuffed into an armoured vehicle along with other people whose only crime is being imPorts, and driven off to an unknown fate.

The worst moment comes when Jacob gets a glimpse at the unit patch on one of the masked and armoured agents manhandling him into the vehicle. Sewn onto the shoulder of the man’s uniform is a familiar yet inverted symbol: a black tower instead of white, set against a red background instead of blue. Printed underneath is the name: ‘AEGIS UNIT.’

“Oh, you have got to be shitting me,” Jacob groans. Then the door slams, and the transport starts rolling.



RESCUE

This is more like it. Freed of his bonds by whichever Resistance members have intercepted the vehicle, Jacob stands up and stretches out both his muscles and powers once the fighting is done. He lights up with a corona of blue energy, feeling his biotic abilities return after being nullified, then turns to whoever has saved him.

“Thanks for the help,” he says with feeling. “I don’t know what they do to ‘processed’ imPorts, but I’m guessing it isn’t fun. We’ve got a place to run to, right?”

He hopes there’s somewhere they can go to get off the street. This transport may not have been well-guarded, but he doesn’t doubt that reinforcements will arrive soon.

rescue

[the_caped_crusader]

I can get you to other members of the resistance, but we have to hurry.

[ the voice is familiar, though he looks different. he's dressed in all black, a balaclava over his face, but it's not the batman costume, and while he can walk freely, he favors his right leg. around him though are a team of six clad in swat-like armor, and they move silently around them in formation, as ominous as he used to be. ]

We don't have much time. Let's go.

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

[Jacob doesn't recognize the man or his apparent personal tactical squad, but he recognizes the voice. He trusts the voice. So he nods, and pauses to stoop and help himself to the sidearm of a fallen guard before he is ready to head out.]

Right behind you. And let me tell you, it's damn good to see a familiar face. Mask. You know what I mean.

[the_caped_crusader]

Yeah. I know what you mean. It's good to have you back, Jacob. Though I think the both of us wish the circumstances were different.

[ wordlessly, he starts to change. he pulls up his pant leg and detaches a mechanized leg brace, revealing a mangled knee, and slips on a black trench coat. his men wordlessly continue, but they press a button on the dashboard and whatever the van looked like previously changes into that of an armored police vehicle. logos appear on the shoulders of his men-- C.P.D. finally... he removes his mask, using the other man's surprise as an opportunity to quickly seize jacob's weapon and puts some handcuffs on him. ]

Don't be alarmed. There's a checkpoint in a few miles. Just play along.

[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.]

transport

[brushoff]

Dorian slips in before the door slams shut. And it is blatantly obvious that he is out of his comfort zone. He's wearing some clothes that are obviously designer. One hand grabs one of the handrails inside the armored van, another hand holds a small yet expensive looking video camera. As the van lurches to a start, he turns to one of the armed guards.

"Try to actually win if the transport gets hit. Do a good job and I'll put your face on a poster."

If the casual condescension didn't give away his allegiance, the government issued ID card clipped to his suitjacket lapel certainly does. As the guard makes a noise of acknowledgment and rolls his eyes, Dorian turns his attention to the rest of the Metas.

"Well, aren't you all a sorry looking lot. Still, the Porter never really had good taste--present company excluded, of course," he says as he gestures to himself with the hand holding the camera.

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

Jacob immediately corrects himself. He was wrong earlier. This is the worst moment.

"Dorian Gray? Seriously?" He groans. "Now I know this timeline is bad."

He had still held out a sliver of hope during the arbitrary arrest and other clear signs of dystopia, but having to deal with Dorian again? That's it, that's the final straw.

[brushoff]

For a moment, Dorian honestly looks a little confused. This man is a new arrival. How the hell would he know Dorian's name? But that confusion is pushed back since honestly, in Dorian's mind, the more attention the better.

He shifts his position slightly to look at Jacob, giving him a winning grin as he does so, absolutely ignoring that shit-talking.

"Well well well. I'll have to pass this on up. If a new arrival like you already knows my name, things are working perfectly. Tell me, was it the posters? Or maybe the film, I know they were thinking about playing that."

[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?”

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?"

[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.”

[khajidont]

"Oh my god, it is you."

Maybe they were never that close - not as close as they were with others - but Jaime's going to accept that hand, and pull it into a good old-fashioned bro-hug, because Jacob hasn't been absent for a short enough period of time not to get a hug. That, and Jaime's just really, really glad to see someone who hasn't gone absolutely insane.

"No kidding! I thought it was a possibility that you'd get ported back in, but not like this." A beat. "I wasn't, um, expecting this to happen either. Last I checked, we prevented what should've ended in all of this junk."

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

Jacob doesn’t hesitate to hug back, good and hard. He might not have ever been part of Jaime’s close circle of friends, nor Jaime part of Jacob’s, but he’s always liked the kid in and out of the mask. Besides, being one of the few imPorts left who remembers names like ‘Moira Nomos’ and ‘the Hornets’ counts for something in Jacob’s book.

“I’d love to hear about it,” Jacob says. “Let’s get off the street first, though. Pretty sure something bad will happen to us if we hang around to talk. You got your suit with you?”

Jacob himself is basically naked and defenceless, even if he has his biotics back and has grabbed a gun from their now-former captors.

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.

[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.”

[fauxmarth]

He need only speak her name and that's enough for her: She rushes in just as quickly to embrace him, her grip a bit too tight without realizing, save for the telltale wheeze that bids her ease up. Just a little, though.

"Gods, Jacob! Of all places...why here?" She withdraws a little to look up at him with worry. "Don't tell me you've...that this is where you've been since you vanished!" She'd never forgive herself for not knowing, not helping, stupid as that may be.

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

“God, no.” The thought is so horrifying that Jacob has to chuckle with relief as he lets Lucina go. “No, the Porter sent me home. Things were good. I was good. My family’s doing great. Then...”

He gestures at the nightmare around them. “Here I am. Just arrived and got stuffed in one of these transports. It’s like the Soviets all over again. Do you know what the hell happened?”

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.

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

Jaocb’s face lights up when Mightyena comes by to sniff (and be patted, Jacob is patting) because he assumes it means his pal Archie is nearby. The face that actually does emerge is a surprise- but a welcome one.

“Manabu? Is that really you?”

But of course it is, who else could have such fluffy hair? Jacob laughs a little, and comes forward to either shake Manabu’s hand or wrap him in a hug, maybe both. But despite those intentions, what actually happens is that Jacob’s outstretched and open hand turns into a fist, arcing straight into the poor lad’s face.

“Shit. Shit! I’m sorry, man,” Jacob says earnestly as he grabs at his wayward hand to get it back under control. “Still got those powers, huh?”

[siriusly]

"Gah-!!"

It's...fortunate that this isn't a new occurrence, that Manabu was able to jerk backward at the first sign of an incoming fist -- even if that sign was some random guy coming up to hug him or something. Either way, it gave him a chance to bring up an arm to catch the brunt of the blow.

Even after Jacob's recoiled, Manabu holds pose for a beat so he can swallow the bubble of anger that naturally comes up. That, too, isn't a new occurrence. Scout is unfazed, and once he's certain his boss is fine, resumes sniffing at Jacob.

"Okay," Manabu breathes out, his arm slowly lowering. "So...you knew my powers and...still did that? Did someone tell you different, or what?" He makes a face. "I bet it was Archie, trying to mess with me for giving him a hard time..."

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

“Sorry,” Jacob says with a shrug. “Last time I saw you, we’d gotten it under control with a nullifier. I assumed...”

He trails off as the quarter drops, as the look on Manabu’s face sinks in. His stomach sinks.

“Hold on. You know who I am, don’t you?

transport

[obediences]

The metas working for the government are mostly identifiable by their uniforms, their crisp professionalism, a certain brusqueness to the way they bundle away the new arrivals— and right now? They're overworked, struggling to contain it all, working quicker than ever and perhaps cutting some corners. They're rougher, grabbing every arrival even if they haven't caused any trouble yet, carting them off for processing.

At the last second, one last agent hops into the armoured van carrying Jacob, pulls the doors shut behind them, and raps his knuckles against the wall to signify they're ready to go. The van starts moving. When he settles back on the bench, it turns out it's a familiar figure.

Luther. It's Luther Hargreeves, but an inverted version of him just like the Aegis tower is inverted: he's still tall with broad shoulders, but now he's lean and trim and dressed in a form-fitting uniform rather than baggy sweaters. He moves with brisk confidence, rather than trying to shrink away into the corner.

When Jacob looks at him, there's no light of recognition in those now-cold blue eyes.

Sorry for the wait!

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

It's a moment before Jacob recognizes him. He's used to jumbo-sized Luther. When he does realize who it is, he opens his mouth for a moment as his face starts to light up with memory. But then he sees the total detachment in Luther's eyes, and his mouth closes with a defeated sigh. That's the look one stranger gives another.

Jacob hangs his head for a moment, then tries to speak again. "You've got no idea who I am, do you."

np! i will backtag 5ever

[obediences]

"No. Should I?" The enforcer's sitting with arms crossed, watching the new metas with an almost bored expression on his face — except there's a kind of distant wariness too, a tension strung into his body as he waits for something to go wrong. It's been that kind of month.

The way this man is looking at him, though. It gives Luther pause. He's not usually the kind of figure you mix up with someone else; so his brow crinkles slightly in curiosity.

"We've never met."

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

"Haven't we?" Jacob leans back on the bench, tries to cross his own arms, then gets a rude reminder that yes, he is still handcuffed. He huffs instead and places his hands in his lap.

"Then maybe you can explain how I know who you are, Luther," he challenges, hoping that this angle will provoke curiosity rather than violence. "Or about your family, like Allison and Diego. Trust me, we've met."