Settle The Score | The Assassination of Fenix Down (Player Plot Open-Log)

[aelwyn_aberration]

Who: Aelwyn + Anyone Who Wants To Be Involved In This Assassination
When: April
Where: Around Gloucester, Springfield, the Circus, assorted other locations.
Summary: A murder is planned, executed, and staged. The details are yet to come.
Warnings: Discussions of murder, actual murder, blackmail, espionage, gaslighting, TBA.

[Several months ago, following the Circus' initial visit, Aelwyn was given permission to take down Fenix Down and his circus. Now, after more recent revelations about their unseen enemy, the plan has become a higher priority.

The plan is as follows. To ensure that this doesn't implicate ADI, a false cult will be created for this specific purpose. They'll keep the entity behind it vague, but one must be selected to ensure anyone paying enough attention would be able to identify it. They'll create conspiracy theories, fabricate old reports from decades ago to make it seem like this group is only recently being resurrected.

And then, with that done, they'll execute the plan itself. Staging the kidnapping and murder as if it was the act of that cult, and an extensive interrogation.

OOC Post here!]

Comments

[worthallthis]

Penny has one more trick up her sleeve, and when she can't wriggle free from Winter's implacable metal grip or get a hand to his face because said metal arm is now pinning both of hers to her sides, she sends fire coursing down his leg.

He's had worse-- but he's had worse when he had a serum to heal it. It hurts, and that leg isn't going to hold him for long. Thankfully, he has his grenade in his flesh hand, already primed and counting down, and he shoves it into her pants pocket before pushing her directly into the budding barrier.

He falls back, rolls, hisses as he comes to his feet in a crouch on top of blistered and bloody skin. It doesn't stop him from throwing the second grenade at Penny's feet as she tries to catch herself from his shove, just in case one isn't enough. Time to bring that down, Jaeger.

[bloodalwaystells]

Jaeger's judgment may have lapsed for a minute and probably cost him quite a bit in damage (if not trust from Winter), but when it comes down to the exact, necessary moment of action, he's there with fucking bells on.

The barrier solidifies around Penny, just a few scant feet from Winter, with expert precision and a semi-translucent glow that shimmers blue in the night air. It can be seen through vaguely, shadows and shapes, but it will prove to be as tough as concrete for as long as Jaeger can hold it. And he doesn't have to hold it long. Just a few seconds, ticking by like the roaring of his pulse in his ears as blood starts to drip from his nose.

It gives Penny those few seconds to realize exactly what's coming, and her scream of rage does carry through the barrier, that intense, horrible, perfect moment when she fully grasps her situation.

[worthallthis]

That's all she has time for, before the first grenade goes off, right in her pocket. The barrier is full of fire and dust, shards of the edge of the booth caught inside the barrier. There isn't even time for the first to die down before the second grenade explodes.

Winter scoots back, then lands on his ass in the dust, breathing raggedly. They have to go, someone would surely have heard that, even muffled by the magical barrier. But they can't go until they confirm she's dead.

"Jaeger. Jaeger, drop it."

cw: gore, body horror

[bloodalwaystells]

Jaeger doesn't need more than the briefest prompting to drop the barrier. His ears are ringing and his head spinning from the noise of the explosion, as contained as it is, a perfect dome of carnage that he allows to drop with all its horrifying contents.

Which are...not quite what he expected. He expected horror, a gruesome show of what's inside a body when it explodes in a confined space, but this is...not quite that? Not entirely that.

There's still little flashes in front of his vision from the fire, only slowly and reluctantly fading back into something like night sight, and he pulls his flashlight off his belt to get a better look at what's left behind.

"That's not a body." It's pieces of something, but not a body. Not with melted, scorched, broken bits of what look like plastic or wax scattered among even less identifiable pieces. They need to move fast, whatever they decide to do next, but leaving on a mysterious note is never a good sign. Jaeger would rather be good and damn sure, if he can help it.

[worthallthis]

Winter cranes his neck to see, and... actually groans. "Why can't these people just. Fucking die," he grumbles, and forces himself back onto his feet. He gives the nearest shred of wax-person a vicious kick with his burned leg, well away from the other bits.

Because a couple of those pieces are already inching back towards each other, and that seems like a bad thing.

"We need to. Separate it all," he guesses, eying them, giving another piece a kick further away-- closer to Jaeger. This kicks some dust and debris over some of the bits still between the tents, which helps them to stop wiggling.

cw: Various injuries

[bloodalwaystells]

Jaeger feels that sentiment completely. They'd known that the fight would be intense, but he tastes blood in his mouth, the skin of his chest and arm are fire, and he is just so incredibly done with this shit.

But the job's not finished yet, and they have to be thorough. Jaeger sucks in a breath full of smoke and dust, and then starts to cough, a rough and pained sound that brings up crimson into his hand. Something in his chest feels like broken glass, and he doesn't have to be a genius to guess that he's pushed too hard, damaged something inside.

Not good, but it passes after a minute. He wipes the blood off on his slacks, and narrows his eyes at the remains.

"There were sandbags at one of the booths further down. Sand or sawdust. That might work? We may not have much time."

And yet, amid all the pain and fatigue and what might be the first faint chiming of shock through his bones, there's elation, too- the satisfaction of dispatching their prey, of a Hunt completed. All that's left now is the bones.

"Otherwise, we might have to get creative with the burial."

Re: cw: Various injuries

[worthallthis]

That's one of the many joys of wearing a face mask: no dust inhalation problems. Winter looks up and over, taking in Jaeger's condition, though his expression is impossible to see behind said mask and goggles. "What if all someone had to do was brush the dust off. Some of it needs to be separated. Buried."

He looks Jaeger over one more time. They don't have a lot of time, but they don't have a lot of resources left, either, he thinks. Jaeger needs to sit down. Hell, Winter needs to sit down. But the mission isn't over yet. "Get a sandbag," he decides. "I'll bury some pieces over here. Take some with us. Bury them somewhere else. You douse in sand the rest."

cw: Various injuries

[bloodalwaystells]

There's an ashen sort of look to Jaeger's already-fair skin, the peek of a crust of blood under one nostril, but he gives a short nod at Winter's direction, steadies himself for another second and then moves to retrieve one of the bags of sand.

He's used to operating while compromised. His scars alone are a testament to that, and so is his stoic stance as he moves to heft the bag over one shoulder. Breathe, and keep moving. The pain is a steady burn, that becomes simple background noise as he pushes himself to make the short trip from the booth to Winter's side again.

The waxy, gory pieces have started to make a bit of progress toward reforming, and burial? Yeah. That seems like the best idea, even with time ticking down.

"There's enough here to mix with everything," he advises solemnly, letting the bag drop to the ground with a dull thump. "Both buried and not. Better not to take any chances."

[worthallthis]

Winter's used to it, too, though normally he'd be starting to knit together by now. Ugh. Sometimes he hates having to be a person now.

By the time Jaeger gets back, Winter has already dug a few shallow holes for some of the bigger pieces with the heel of his boots, and is scraping dirt over one of them. There is another piece, most of one hand, in his metal one, though the metal fingers keep twitching around it, something inside malfunctioning.

He kicks over the bag of sand, too, letting it start to spill over the wreckage, spreading it around with his boot. Kicking at things hurts, but bending over or crouching hurts, too, and he'd rather stay on his feet. "Pick a foot or and ear or something," he instructs. "Carry it with us. We need to go."

cw: Body parts

[bloodalwaystells]

With some of the sand spilled out, there's more than enough room in the burlap sandbag to fit in some pieces of the mess. Packed in sand, they should keep from reforming, Jaeger thinks, and well, he'll have to just go with that because that's what they have.

Bending over hurts, and nearly starts him coughing again, but he wipes his mouth on his already-bloodied sleeve and sets to gathering a couple of choice pieces of the...remains. It's easier to distance himself from that when he realizes that they are wax, not anything like flesh and blood at all. It's grotesque, but not quite as awful as actual meat would be.

Meat. Probably better he not think like that. He packs the parts into the sand carefully, then straightens and gives Winter a short, sharp nod.

"When you're ready, then."