Jean Pierre Polnareff (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
silvercrusader) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
epidemiology2017-02-11 11:20 pm
silvercrusader) wrote in epidemiology2017-02-11 11:20 pm
Entry tags:
oh have you ever felt so goddamn strong
CHARACTERS: Lilith + Jean-Pierre Polnareff
WHEN: Second week in Woodhurst!
WARNINGS: Violence, mostly. Probably some cursing.
SUMMARY: It's time to help save some schoolkids! But, like, violently.
[See? He'd known this was going to be a shitshow.
More people are getting sick, which means things are just getting worse. Panic grips Woodhurst, subtle but all-pervading. It's a buzz in the air, a too-bright heat simmering just below the surface. All it takes is one little thing for all hell to break loose, again and again and again. It sets his teeth on edge, but there isn't much he can do about the source. All Polnareff can do is try and help.
Like now:
There's a bunch of policemen guarding the elementary school, which is what catches his attention at first. They don't look like they're protecting people, but setting up a barricade, which is unusual. A few quick questions reveals there's a bunch of kids still locked in there.
Locked, he asks, and the cop scowls. Yeah, locked: one of the teachers thinks hunting down the infected on her own is a good idea. She's keeping all the kids in one room. We think she's gonna try and clear out the whole school before she lets em loose.
So it's . . . not quite a hostage situation, so much as a teacher fervently dedicated to protecting her students. Polnareff considers this for a few seconds. It isn't a smart idea, especially for a woman who likely doesn't know much about fighting, but it's certainly admirable in intent.
Are there infected guys in there, Polnareff asks, and the cop shrugs. Maybe, he says, an answer not so much careless as hopelessly uninformed. Right now we're just trying to make sure nobody else gets in so she doesn't kill anyone innocent.
Good thinking, he says, and deliberately turns away, heading in the other direction.
There's always a back door, right? Or a window-- yeah, a window's perfect, and he finds a likely-looking one along the south side of the school. It isn't that the police are stupid, mind, but they're looking only to keep out frantic parents and gawkers. They don't think anyone's going to be stupid enough to try and break in like this.
More fool them.
All it takes is a rock through the window and Polnareff is in, tumbling through and landing in some kind of art room. He hadn't bothered to grab a weapon to bring with him on his way in; when has he ever needed a weapon?]
WHEN: Second week in Woodhurst!
WARNINGS: Violence, mostly. Probably some cursing.
SUMMARY: It's time to help save some schoolkids! But, like, violently.
[See? He'd known this was going to be a shitshow.
More people are getting sick, which means things are just getting worse. Panic grips Woodhurst, subtle but all-pervading. It's a buzz in the air, a too-bright heat simmering just below the surface. All it takes is one little thing for all hell to break loose, again and again and again. It sets his teeth on edge, but there isn't much he can do about the source. All Polnareff can do is try and help.
Like now:
There's a bunch of policemen guarding the elementary school, which is what catches his attention at first. They don't look like they're protecting people, but setting up a barricade, which is unusual. A few quick questions reveals there's a bunch of kids still locked in there.
Locked, he asks, and the cop scowls. Yeah, locked: one of the teachers thinks hunting down the infected on her own is a good idea. She's keeping all the kids in one room. We think she's gonna try and clear out the whole school before she lets em loose.
So it's . . . not quite a hostage situation, so much as a teacher fervently dedicated to protecting her students. Polnareff considers this for a few seconds. It isn't a smart idea, especially for a woman who likely doesn't know much about fighting, but it's certainly admirable in intent.
Are there infected guys in there, Polnareff asks, and the cop shrugs. Maybe, he says, an answer not so much careless as hopelessly uninformed. Right now we're just trying to make sure nobody else gets in so she doesn't kill anyone innocent.
Good thinking, he says, and deliberately turns away, heading in the other direction.
There's always a back door, right? Or a window-- yeah, a window's perfect, and he finds a likely-looking one along the south side of the school. It isn't that the police are stupid, mind, but they're looking only to keep out frantic parents and gawkers. They don't think anyone's going to be stupid enough to try and break in like this.
More fool them.
All it takes is a rock through the window and Polnareff is in, tumbling through and landing in some kind of art room. He hadn't bothered to grab a weapon to bring with him on his way in; when has he ever needed a weapon?]
no subject
Hey, stranger. We both get the payout for this job, right?
[Lilith holds the repeater pistol-- Hyperion-made, eons beyond the brittle firearms of this far-gone day and age-- as if it were an extension of her arm.]
‘Cause if not, I’ve got dibs. Annnnd a bullet for your brainmeat if you don’t agree.
[That telltale icon on her magitek’s display had appeared the moment that Lilith had started to get bored of the chaos, and, of course, she’d gone for it. Bounties, mercenary work: all are familiar and reassuringly simple, blood for pay, favors for favors. A “mystery” payment is a cop-out that probably means she won’t get what her time is worth, but what other choice does she have?
Besides. It’s been a long couple of weeks since she’s had to “deal with” something.
She tilts her head and looks Polnareff over. He’s big, but not too much for her. Not many are. But he might get smart. The gun doesn’t move… not until she hears his agreement, or can see what he’s packing.]
We got a deal, partner?
no subject
[It isn't that he can't handle an enemy with a gun, all right. Hol Horse had more than proven that. But he'd climbed in here expecting some pint-sized snotty brat armed with a broom, not a woman holding a gun far too steadily. Without his conscious say-so, Chariot appears in front of him, blade drawn and poised right in front of Lilith's gun.]
Yeah, all right? Yeah, fine, we're partners, now point that somewhere else.
[Though Chariot doesn't yet flicker away.]
no subject
[Okay, a big floating suit of armor???? definitely enough to get her to move. Lilith jumps back and takes solid footing, barrel aimed at Chariot's head.]
What the hell is that?! Are you controlling it?
no subject
[Shit, first the Cybertronian and now her? Polnareff glances frantically from Lilith to Chariot and back again, but no, that's his Stand she's staring at. Chariot's blade twitches, swinging to follow the barrel of her gun, his eyes narrowing.]
You can see him? How the hell can you see him and not know what he is? [And then, hastily and belatedly:] Yes, I'm controlling him, don't fucking shoot him!
no subject
[She holsters her weapon with a wrinkle of her nose and a suspicious glare at Chariot.]
'Course I can. He's right in front of my face, I'd have to be blind not to see whatever... robot... thing he is. [Does he have digistructing tech? Is he from the future? what the hell.]
You can explain your equipment later. Right now we're hunting down infected.
no subject
[She's put her gun away, but that seems worth reiterating. Chariot darts back, settling in his usual position behind Polnareff.
He glances around warily as he opens the door, but the hallway is empty. Of course it is: a place like this is too open. Everyone'll be in classrooms, for all the false comfort a contained space brings.]
Left or right first?
no subject
[In case you thought you were leading the way, Pol: too bad, she's turning quickly on her heel and proceeding without waiting for his say.
The hall is silent, eerily so. There's no trace of infected, save for the occasional blood spatter on the walls. Gross.]
What is he? And does he just have the sword? Shh, someone's coming.
[She holds out a hand. Sure enough, there's footsteps creeping down the hallway.]
no subject
[He begins, but fortunately for them both, Polnareff occasionally knows when to shut up. Chariot rises up behind Polnareff, his grip on his sword shifting. He won't stab, but hit, the movement nonlethal. If they can just knock out whoever it is out, that'll solve their problem, right? Like, he's no stranger to killing people, but he doesn't want to kill a teacher . . .
The thought of killing a kid doesn't begin to cross his mind. That's simply something that will not happen.
As it turns out, it's a teacher: a middle-aged man who's walking quickly down the hall. He moves like a man guilty, glancing around him again and again. Infected? Maybe, but it's hard to tell at this distance, so fuck hiding anymore.]
Hi.
[So says Polnareff, stepping out to stand in front of him. His tone is falsely cheerful, and it doesn't occur to him that he needs to put Chariot away. The man's eyes dart from Polnareff up to the Stand and back again.]
Going somewhere?
no subject
[oh my god, Polnareff. Lilith takes one glance at Chariot, glimmering like a big shiny sore thumb in the middle of the hallway, then rolls her eyes and turns to the suspicious-looking teacher.]
Ugh.
[Lilith, on the other hand, is behaving slightly more liberally with her code. She's not a total monster, so children are out unless there's truly no other option; teachers, especially teachers out to hurt her first, are absolutely fair game. She takes a step closer than Polnareff has, fully intending to play bad cop in this scenario if she's got to.
The man mistakes the Siren markings that whirl across half her body as the tattoos of someone involved in something awful. (Not wrong, but not exactly right, either.) He sputters at them both helplessly, the line of vision never leaving Silver Chariot.]
Listen. We're gonna make this real clear. Are you doing something you shouldn't be, or do you want to chew on people you shouldn't be chewing on, right now?
no subject
No, he tries, and steps back, trying to move around them. Chariot's arm darts out, grabbing his tightly, keeping him in place.]
Then you can show us where everyone else is. Right?