Bishop (341-B) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
341_bishop) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2012-09-10 02:30 pm
341_bishop) wrote in bakerstreet2012-09-10 02:30 pm
Entry tags:
The Aliens Meme
THE ALIENS MEME
People always wondered if there was intelligent life out there beyond our solar system. Well lucky us, there is. But take away the lucky part and we're left with an alien race that wants nothing more than to use our bodies as incubators for their babies. If not out right kill us. They're intelligent and adapt to situations to overcome what is thrown at them and will do everything to find you. Once they do, who can say what will happen.
Unless you can escape.
HERE'S WHAT TO DO:
- Post with your character (name and fandom in the subject).
- Other people reply and they become your 'team' the survivors trying to escape.
- Work together, or don't, to outsmart the Xenomorphs (the aliens).
- You will also run into these little suckers, and if they catch you they'll cling to your face, implanting an alien baby inside you. Have fun with that. They're hard to get off as their tail wraps around your throat, usually to knock the victim out to make them easier to handle.
- Get to an escape pod on the ship you're on, or blow up the ship. Maybe you all die. Either way, have fun!
- WARNING FOR GRAPHIC DEATHS AND CREEPY ALIENS!
:p I really only ever notice my own. AFTER the fact!
He turns wary brown eyes up at the super soldier, peering through the glass on the window in the center of the door, and knows that they can't leave. Steve, and Thor's Mjolnir, seem to be the only two things that can resist the acid. Tony's suits certainly can't.
That makes Captain America the last hope for what is beyond the door.
Tony takes the lead, hand against the metal and the hinges groan a somber song as the door swings slowly outward. His eyes have to adjust but when they do--
He recognizes that bow, on the ground.
And the hand not that far from it. Not thinking, Tony darts forward immediately. At least he has the good sense to stay quiet.
Always the way, innit? :(
Slowly, he sinks to his knees next to Clint's body, reaching up with one gloved hand to close those empty staring eyes.
"Jesus Christ..." It's less a curse and more a prayer.
The moaning that drew them in is still going though, still faint but closer. Steve struggles back up to his feet and tries to compose himself, looking at Tony. "I have to keep you with me. We... we'll come back for him, I promise we will. There's nothing we can do right now."
It's pretty much impossible not to fall into 'soldier mode' at a time like this, but the look on Tony's face reminds him vividly of that moment on the Helicarrier months ago; 'We are NOT soldiers!' barked out by a voice thick with anger and frustration.
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Some hope.
He ignores Steve. He ignores his soft, God-fearing prayer for Clint's soul and his promise to come back for a body that cant be a body.
They survived the Chitari and they were more organized. More dangerous. They'd pulled through. How can they have lost two of theirs in the span of half a day?
His heart is pounding as he clutches at the archer's shirt and gives him a little shake. Tony Stark doesn't play well with others but that doesn't mean he likes to lose them.
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The Chitauri were more organized, yes, but they were also more sentient, full of a far greater sense of ego and self preservation. These things have an innate ruthlessness. They'll slaughter their own to use the acid against people. They are heedless of injury, insult, or danger. They attack even if they think they will lose, just for the off chance that they will win. Their audacity, their near-mindlessness in pursuit of a kill is what's turning the tides.
That and their sheer numbers...
Steve finds himself sinking back to his knees, resting a heavy hand on Stark's back, then a whole arm around his shoulder, pulling him simultaneously in to him and away from Clint.
"Tony." he says again, gently, shaking him just a little in the hopes that he'll pull his gaze from Hawkeye's body.
"Come on, we have to keep moving."
THREE HOURS LATER
Maybe he'd been right. He's nothing without Iron Man. The goose laid the last golden egg. Obi still grins from his grave at him in his nightmares whenever Tony isn't stuck in the desert or being tosses from windows.
He swallows up his struggle. He really needs to focus on something else. Like... Being a god damned hero.
"Right." His eyelashes blink away what is undoubtedly tears. It's time to avenge. Even if there's not many left to assemble.
AND THEN EVEN LATER AFTER LIFE ATTACKS ME
He can't do anything for Natasha or Clint now, there may not be anything he can do to help Thor or Banner on the front lines, but he's been charged with keeping Tony safe and he damn well isn't going to fail in that endeavor.
He leads them down the hallway, trying to find the source of that moan that seems, almost, to be growing weaker.
<3
There are more offices here, some pharmaceutical company that now flies the Stark flag had their headquarters in this building. All Tony remembers about them is that they make an anti nausea medication and are expanding that into easy doses for overseas use. He wets his lips and puts a hand out against the wall to balance himself before he jerks his hand back, stricken.
"The light," he huffs, the dull emergency lighting doing nothing for his vision. "The walls are rough and-- Fuck!"
Alive. He feels breathing. Or at least pulsing.
\o/ YAY CREEPY LIVING WALLS FOR EVERYONE!
For the second time in ten minutes he takes the Lord's name in vain and this time it damn well IS a curse. He feels around the wall, trying to make out the shape of the body in the dim light, finding the edge of what feels like an arm and groping his way up to the head not even a foot above.
"The datapad. That could give us some light." He nudges Tony to take it out as he bends to fish his pocketknife from his boot. "Do you have a utility knife or anything better than this thing?"
He keeps his knife plenty sharp but he's not sure how tough this alien plaster job is going to be against it.
Oh STEEB. God will punish you for that mouth of yours!
Tony. Stark. Fumbles. He drops the bag he's been wearing since they started this journey from the tower and joins his curse to Steve's. It's just a lot dirtier. "Fuck," he spits and drops to his knees to feel around for the pad, the extra flashlight, the precision tools, the spanner-- His things. He needs his things.
He needs some normalcy in the nightmare Tower he lives in. Finding the small laser cutting tool -- don't leave home without it -- before anything else, Tony pauses as he hands it up to Steve.
"How... How did you get up to me without passing this?" His brain almost seems to be overloading. "The elevators are down."
LOL God will get you first Tony XD
"I... came up on the other side of the building, I guess? I must have taken the opposite stairwell and gotten lucky."
He can't quite remember, actually, which is frightening in it's own right. So much of the trip over was spent mired in panic and focused on his goal that he didn't give a lot of thought to the route, just to getting from one point to the next without dying. It's rare that he's in enough of a daze to have gaps in his recollection but gaps they are...
He's brought back from that tangent of thought as the laser punches through to the inner cocoon of the wall and a gasp echoes from inside the pouch followed by muffled sobs. He digs in harder with the cutting tool to free the rest of the clinging mass from around the victim's head.
"It's okay, just breathe, we'll have you out in a minute."
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He's not taking any of this well.
Not at all.
And pulling this cocoon like material from Thor's face is just turning him into a nervous wreck.
"I just saw him," Tony says softly, gazing at Steve. Something isn't right."
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His brain feels foggy, and as he peels back the fibrous mass of the cocoon further he has the awful crawling sensation of groping to find a seam in a flat wall...
"My friends..." Thor's booming voice is much lower than usual, his eyes sunken and haunted, a thin trail of blood dripping down his chin. Blood. Dear God these things had made THOR actually BLEED?!
"Something's REALLY not right." he agrees, glancing at Tony.
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He doesn't really recognize any of them, but he's never been that good with names. Even the names of the people that have filled his bed and kept him from being too lonely from time to time.
"Stark."
Tony glares at Steve and Thor. The god can bleed but he isn't dead. He'll be fine. He's always fine. "Stop standing there and help!"
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Thor steps to Tony's order without a word, digging his fingers into the fibrous wall where it's already been cut to free him and pulling hard, tearing a literal strip off the side, exposing the mid-sections of a row of unlucky victims.
Steve picks up a utility knife from Tony's bag - not as good as she laser cutter but it will do - and starts in on the first lump in the far wall that doesn't have the telltale mark of a chestburster in it's center.
Questions are spinning in his head but Stark's panic is not helping him to keep level in the slightest and focusing on the task at hand feels like it's all he can manage.
Thor keeps tearing into the walls, but keeps coughing the whole time too. Steve tries not to think about it. He's just been smothered of course he's still clearing his throat. Blood from the mouth is usually a mouth injury. Even Gods can lose teeth against a strong enemy, right?
He manages to put it to the back of his mind until he hears the bone chilling hacking retching noise of Thor buckling to his knees and coughing up what can only be a lungful of blood.
"Thor?"
"By Asgard," the blond laughs bitterly, a worrying fizzing sound underscoring the words. Blood foams at his lips. "They are strong for such tiny beasts."
"What a-" and before he even finishes asking Steve feels his heart sink into his stomach.
"Thor is one of those things IN you!?"
"Fear not friend, it has given a valiant effort but it cannot escape." He smiles crookedly, pushing himself back to his feet and taking hold of the wall again. "It will perish for choosing me as it's host, a fitting end I believe."
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A life spent in boarding schools and universities away from home have made Tony resilient to loss, more or less. He doesn't get attached for a reason, as Obadiah Stane so recently made him realize. He can trust himself and the robots he has made himself king of and no one else.
His thoughts scream for him to ignore what's coming, to focus on the task at hand, and to give Thor some sort of snark-fueled pep talk that will make Steve scowl and think his heart is made of the same ice that encased him for seventy long years.
"There, see? Alien menaces, 0, alien thunder gods, 1." They don't exactly have a load of time here. The noise will draw them back. "I need to get to one of the prototypes for my suit. Two floors down. You two handle this and I'll be right back."
Thor laughs and it's sunny, despite the flecks of blood it sends to the wall he gleefully destroys.
no subject
Steve shoots a frantic glance toward Thor, reluctant to leave him behind but unwilling to let Tony go forward unguarded. The Asgardian gives him a blood-tinged smile and waves him on.
"I will continue without you friends. Let fortune make you swift, we will meet again."
Those last four words ring hollow. There's a dull look to Thor's eyes, a sway in his motion as he turns back to tearing at the walls, that tells Steve this is the last time he'll see him alive. He wants to scream at the very thought, they've lost enough, but the choice he has to make is clear. Thor stands a chance alone, Tony much less so.
"Stay safe, Thor."
He turns and rushes down the hallway to catch up with Tony's retreating form.
no subject
Get the suit. Fly him and Steve out of there.
Get the suit.
Get the--
The smell is off. Tony flinches. It's like the scent around that hole that they half repelled down. He frowns lightly and glances at Steve. "No more piggy back, I don't care how big this hole happens to b--" He's cut short. The hole isn't really a hole at all, just a massive crater in the special alloy and concrete floor under Tony's personal work space.
A workspace that actually should be some twenty floors higher up, come to think of it. Though it makes little sense, Tony's brain focuses on the crater. Or more specifically, what's inside the crater.
And then he just shuts off completely, striding to the suit prototype he'd been working on to get the damned thing on. He refuses to look at the present left smouldering for him beneath holographic projectors.