The Legion [Mods] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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legionmissions2018-01-10 08:32 pm
letsgolegion) wrote in legionmissions2018-01-10 08:32 pm
Entry tags:
Endgame Part 2 [log] [modplot]
Armed with the Miracle Machine, and facing a universe that's starting to break down at the seams, the Legion must venture through Chronoblivion's outer shells - made up of the fragments of dead universes - to allow the Miracle Machine access to the dimensional space the Big C's core self exists in. Only when they're technically in the right reality can the device alter the reality in it to defeat him.
But Chronoblivion's shell is a dangerous place. Many of the individuals that have tried to look into its depths have gone mad, and every brave fool that's wandered in has never come out, nor have they broken through to the other side.
The only chance the Legion has of breaking through the shell - and also breaking it down enough to get a crack at the gooey center - is if they rely on each other on the journey through. Because if they get stuck there, the twisted pocket dimensions within will grind them away until they cease to exist.
THE MAZE
They have the Miracle Machine and there was enough hope in both galaxies to keep it from fading from existence. It's fully charged now, and influenced by Brainy's mind as he took it out of its pocket in the Bleed, the space between universes, it's taken the form of a round piece of metal with a Legion insignia, not unlike their Legion belt buckles.
But they still have one of the greatest challenges of their lives ahead of them. Even with the Penitent and her monsters gone, the Catastrophists have refused to quit. They've left every world as It summoned them all here.
But the Legion was able to move much faster. Shikari, the Legion's only Kwai member, is one of the most talented Wayfinders the Kwai have ever seen, one who's navigated starpaths beyond that of most other Kwai. Leading them through through a threshold gate, she found them the fastest way through D-space to the twisted section of space that Chronoblivion inhabits, beating the Catastrophists there.
Now, outside the twisting and folding dimensions before them, they ready themselves for the last leg of their adventure.
"Quantum Legion," Shikari says over the comms. "I have found us the Way! Brr! The insides are twisted and broken and I see no clear paths, but the way in through its outermost shell is straight and true."
"That's at least a start. Alright, Legion, we don't have much time," says Kid Quantum. "Brainy says due to the way Chronoblivion warps reality, we need to get the device close - so it's technically in the same dimensional space - to work. Some of us are going to have to stay outside to hold off the Catastrophists. Shikari only bought us a few minutes' head start. It's not exactly going to be a picnic for the people going inside, but for the people outside - it's going to be rough, too."
"It's pretty obvious who should stay behind," says Garth Ranzz, Livewire, his voice sounding moody. But if they think he's going to demand the displacees face chump duty...well, they'd be wrong. "We saw all of you working. The crystal was able to resonate with our galaxy, and it's all we could do, just...watch. And you were sprocking amazing. I mean, yeah, you had your growing pains but so did we when the team first started. The rest of us are a mess. We need to be on stupid mook duty for this one."
"He's right. You were incredible," says Imra Ardeen, aka Saturn Girl, the Legion's Titanian telepath, finishing his thought. Telepathically, she shares images of some of their greatest triumphs that they witnessed: the defeat of Galactus, the imprisoning of the Spectre, the capture of the Joker in a refrigerator, the defeat of War and the traitorous UP Council-members - and so many more. "And we're all rusty. We could barely move in that place, let alone practice. There's no way we can defeat Chronoblivion in our current state, we'd just trip over our own feet. But we can try to hold the Catastrophists off."
"I don't like the idea of leaving you out here alone," says Kid Quantum. "You're all really worn out by your time in there..."
"The day we can't pull mook duty," says Jo Nah, Ultra Boy, cracking his knuckles, "is the day we hand in our rings. We've got this. And you've all got this."
"Alright," says Kid Quantum. "I want all current active duty Legionnaires to head in for the final fight. All Legionnaires that were in the crystal dimension, you're outside, holding the line. Imra and Shikari, you're the only ones coming in with the rest of us. Shikari, wherever you can, we need you to guide us towards Chronoblivion's core self. Imra, I want you to connect all the Legionnaires heading in telepathically, to make it easier for us to find each other if we're split up."
"Livewire," says Imra. "As acting Legion leader of the group that was in the crystal dimension, I'm officially giving you command of the group outside. With Kid Quantum's permission, of course."
"Permission granted. Good luck, Garth," Kid Q says. "And good luck, team."
Kid Quantum steadies herself with a deep breath. In the distance, they start to see the popping lights of boom tubes opening. For just a moment, two Legions face each other, past and present, but it becomes immediately clear that they're not separate, not at all. As some of the Legionnaires turn to face the waves of enemies about to crash against the shore, and as others turn to face the impossible, twisting depths of a living nightmare, they're all clearly filled with the same resolve.
"Time to go. Stay as close as you can to each other, watch each other's backs, and fight hard. We have no idea what's in there." Kid Q's jaw sets. "But we've come this far and they still haven't stopped us. Chronoblivion wants to take a bite of out of us? Let's go show him that we bite back."
Space warps and twists as they descend into the depths, and there's a feeling like hitting a brick wall at a hundred miles an hour and then being split through a sieve. Reality rewrites itself time and time again. Their fears become manifest, painful memories reawaken, their imaginations are even plumbed for fears they didn't know to be afraid of.
But they instinctively feel a draw towards other Legionnaires thanks to Imra's telepathy. And there is a way out of every scenario, if they work together, if they confront their fears or their pasts, if they know themselves.
On the other side is...an ending. It's still up in the air whether it'll be a good one or not. But they have to get there first.
[ooc: You can set up your scenarios based on the info in infopost below. Please note if scenarios are open or closed.]
Mindscape | warning for blood, description of violence, gore
You take the plunge, and open your eyes to find yourself in the middle of a towering, twisted monument to justice. Judging by the prevalence of gold and eagles, it may be fairly evident who this place belongs to.
Around you, is the foyer of the Grand Hall of Justice. A strange mix of efficient solemnity, half-melted and stirred in with the worst parts of Mega-City One, leading into the polished corridors of Legion World. Grand statues of eagles draped with bizarre neon lights, chrome floors leading into grime encrusted alleyways. Above you, statues of eagles sit perched with narrowed, suspicious eyes and wickedly curved beaks. But the underlying structure is there, and it's clear that this place is based on the original framework of the Academy of Law.
You are placed in front of a statue of a man sitting on a throne, topped by an eagle spreading its wings over his head. For those who watched Beeny's Legionnaire Legacy, they would recognise him as Eustace Fargo. Except he doesn't look young and confident, with a strong jaw and steel spine - his skin sags, his hands are withered, his head is stooped. Between one angle and the next, his throne is a wheelchair.
There's a row of badges mounted on a wall, displayed like trophies. All damaged or blemished in one way or another.
JUDGES WHO DIED DEFENDING JUSTICE
KENNER, reads one, half-melted around the edges.
MUTTOX, reads another, twisted into a barely-legible scrap of metal.
And so on it stretches.
There are a number of doorways, all looking promising in their own way. There's no sign of Rico.
What will you do?
➤ Stay and explore.
➤ Investigate the grimy, filthy door plastered with XXX posters. (go to a)
➤ Investigate the steel door labelled "RESYK". There's blood leaking from under it. (go to b)
➤ Investigate the heavy blast door plastered with radiation hazard symbols. (go to c)
➤ Investigate gaping hole in the wall, blowing stinging hot wind. It's pitch black inside, no matter how much you look. (go to d)
________________
[➤a]
You open the door to find yourself in the midst of a crowd, flashing lights in your eyes. The music hits you next, a tidal wave of screeching noise and feedback. Bodies are grinding to the music. It's loud in here. Very loud. It's difficult to see anything past the throng of people. There are women and men dancing on poles, barely wearing anything, although pretty much everyone here is the same. Fishnets, neon spandex, feathers and kneepads. You might suddenly find yourself dressed similarly as well.
Somebody pushes a drink into your hands, but it's hard to tell who. There's an excited muttering about something about to go down.
[➤b]
It's true that Mega-City One recycles every single resource that it has - including human bodies. Made into food paste, plastics, fibres. This version of Resyk is based in truth, but this is a cruelty, not an efficiency. A massive conveyor belt lies in the middle of this hot, belching room. Everything funneled into the gaping maw of Resyk like a steady march, a metal arch shaped like a mouth lined with saws and razor blades for teeth. Inside, bodies are picked apart by machinery, plucked out of the mass by pairs of snapping metal pincers, and delicately ripped apart. It's a cacophony of misery - living human shrieks deafening in its sound against the whirring and clanking of mechanisms.
You land in the midst of a squirming, wiggling pile of bodies, about fifty feet from the looming mouth. People with their brains smashed open, like so much meat. A pair of crushed eyes here, half a foot there. So many bodies entangled together it's hard to see where a person begins and another ends. Your flight ring does not work. There's an observation deck above you, filled with indistinct figures.
[➤c]
The sky is on fire, a flickering apocalypse. Heat washes over your entire body, a stinging, arid smell in the wind. Towering, bizarre buildings stretch endlessly above as people run by, stumbling, screaming. Heads ducked and covered, pushing and shoving each other. Traffic snarls the streets, choked with smoke and the stifling air of panic. Looting, gunshots, glass shattering. People inflicting violence on each other for no other reason than being dumb, panicked animals.
[➤d]
You take a step through the darkness, and there's no ground beneath you. The air is suddenly arid, and dry - a far cry from the climate-controlled comfort of the foyer. You find yourself plummeting through the air, surrounded by pitch blackness, with no way of knowing where or when the ground will hit. Your flight ring does not work.
What will you do?
[➤b]
Jumping up, he looks around in revulsion at the living carnage all around him. Yet more bodies are being shoveled onto the main conveyor belt from side ramps, further bloating the river of carnage as it flows toward a set of bloodstained, metal teeth. It's suddenly clear to him that this is some kind of torture machine slash meat-packing plant. Aku is no stranger to administering creative forms of cruelty and pain, but this is beyond even his scope of evil. He might marvel at the sadistic imagination behind this contraption if he wasn't so utterly repulsed.
Seeing as he's moving closer to the bladed maw up ahead, he begins to move against the current, treading unsteadily over bodies and yet barely getting anywhere. That's when he catches sight of a gathering of figures observing from above.
"TURN THIS THING OFF!" he shouts up at them. "CAN'T YOU SEE I AM ON IT?"
no subject
The observation deck is filled with people dressed in Judge's uniforms. Rico is at the forefront of the crowd, at the side of a man with salt-and-pepper hair and a gleaming eagle on his chest, whose hand is on his shoulder. Rico looks down, as if seeing you for the first time.
And grins.
In response, Rico gives you a cheery wave and gently tips a lever forwards.
The conveyor belt gives a lurch, and starts inching faster until it settles at a higher speed. The machinery around you groans with the effort, hissing steam and punching pistons. The people with enough consciousness left in them realise this latest misfortune and scream louder, a rising wave of panic that ripples outwards. Some people around you realise that it was your actions that prompted this, and resentful hands clutch at your ankles as you pass by them, pulling down.
You are forced into a light jog.
What will you do?
no subject
"DREDD!!" he snarls while fighting furiously against the clawing limbs beneath. What was wrong with these fools? Couldn't they get up? He kicks at them until he's free enough to trip forward at a faster pace. But it's no use, he's moving backward faster than he's moving forward. Now is a good time to see if his shape-shifting powers still work.
His form rapidly melts into the shape of a large arachnid which allows him to skitter more quickly over the flow of bodies. Rather than treadmill in place, he makes his way toward the edge of the conveyor belt, hoping to find a way off this horrible ride.
no subject
The conveyor belt is vast. Like a landscape, it stretches out in front of you. The moving floor is slippery and burdened by bodies, but thanks to your mobility, you are able to navigate it quickly.
The smile on his face disappears in a flash. He inches the speed faster and faster until it's nearing the maximum speed. Bodies hurtle into the opening, hundreds at a time, the flashing blades almost unable to keep up with the sheer mass of flesh funneled into it. Then, just when you are about to make it off the belt, he yanks it all the way back in a jerking motion.
The conveyor belt stops instantly.
Bodies and limbs jump forward, flung ahead by momentum. You are knocked off all of your eight feet, and are pelted by viscera. The staticky, distorted sounds of Rico's laughter starts to issue from a speaker above you.
W͑̍͢h̄ͨ̐ā̽̀̓̿̅҉tͤ͐̂̉ͣ'̕s̷̏͆ͦ̉̂̋̓ ̎̊̎̕w̛̒̓̃̀̔ͧ̔r̛ͭ͂̽ȯ̎nͫ͛̓̉g̵̀ͫ̓, Aku?̵ͯ͗̍̑ͯ͌ͨ ̡̇̚N̿̇ͪ͛͆̆oͯͩͤ̆̉ͨ̚t͌͒̅ ̧͊̚eͥ́̾̓̂͆nͩͬͥ́̑j͌̔̍ͩ̒̈́o̓͒ͬͫ̓y̓͞ỉ̂̅̾̓̏ͭ͟n͒ͩg̿ ̄ͪ͆ͬ͟y̓ͩơͩ͛̐̉͐ͭuͬͧ҉ȓs̑ͧẻl̎̌́fͮ̾̽̑̅ͯͮ?̔̊ͫ̾
Ỳ̗̦̖̰̻̺o̺̳u̕ ̥̗̮̼c̻̫̻̙̞̬o͘u͍͍l͚̖͖̺̻̝͚͝d͈̹͙̘̮͚̕ ̘̣̙̞̣s̥̞̲̬̱̹ta̻n̨͚ͅd͈̟̣͕͎̰ͅ ̗̫̟̟̥t̛̮o̵ ͓̞͘lose a little weight.̛ ̪̮̞̼̠͓
What will you do?
no subject
The speaker ensures that even while buried under a pile of body parts, Aku can still hear Dredd's obnoxious taunts perfectly well. But to his fortune the machine has stopped and he isn't about to waste the opportunity seething in place. The mound of bodies above him shudders and Aku, now back in his 'default' form, bursts out from beneath. He rolls off the side of the conveyor belt and into a metal trough between it and solid ground.
He's enraged. Utterly indignant! But at least he's safe— safer. Safe enough to bare his fangs up at the observation deck and scream, "YOU FOOL! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"
no subject
Spluttering laughter issues from the speakers. There's a distorted, off edge to the sound that lovingly runs like knives in your ears, not quite true to memory. It feels like somebody pressing the barrel of a gun to the inside of your brain, if you could imagine that quite thoroughly.
T͙h͕͇̤̀i͜s̪͔̗?̹̕ ͕I̗̹'̴̖͚͉̫͈̹̻m̯̲͙̲̻̝̻ just̨̲̼̲͉͙ͯͪͥ ̗̆doing m̷̖̦̊ͦy̠̯̠̖͕̹ͪ ̘͔͈͓̦̰̉ͮ̃̿j̲̘̟̝͎̄̈̊̂̔ͩͅͅo̥͍̯̹̣̩͟b̟̖̟̳͋͒ͨ̆͊͟.
He pushes and pulls the lever aimlessly, the belt zigzagging forwards and backwards above you with a kerchunk-kerchunk. Rows of limbs dangle away, and it swings them hard enough that an outstretched foot slaps you in the head.
Get b̯a͎̩ck͎̱̞ͅ ̙̕o̪̦͢n͍̥͡ ̜̖̥̤̮̱̗t̞̲̥̳̟̀he͡ ̵͎p̭̺̞là͈͉̳t̸͚̼f̣̤̖o̟̼͞r͖̗̱̭̦̲m͍̱̤̟̀ at once, citizen.͏̗̩̼ ̱̗͖̳That's a̼̺̹̤g͍͚̥̖̼̹̜a̪̫̻i̝̪̦̩n̝̗ș̤͍̼̺͈̤ṯ͚͎͙̫ ṱ͎̘͔͉̝̣͘̕h̶͝͏҉̛̟̩̪͖̘͎̮͓̘̖̹̦̝̗̟͚̹̭ͅę͚̙̬͓͍̞̖̘͚̱̥̦͔̱̳̯́͜ ̶̧͟͏͍̱͉̫͈͔͚̗̠̖̜̲̘͇̟̫͕͡l҉̨͍̬͚̬̩̲̱̤̤͙̕͠͠a̴̢̛̛͖̹̳̱̠̰ͅw̡͈̩̘̩͇͔͔̘͇̙̘͚̗͖̤͎͟͠ͅ.
What will you do?
no subject
"BAH!—" he shouts, eyebrows sparking and sputtering. But what's more insulting is being looked down upon from above and given orders as if he's another mere mortal. Aku has had just about enough of this. In direct defiance to the order, he leaps out of the trough and onto solid ground. No more Mr. Rico's Wild Ride for him!
He charges toward the observation deck. And while he can't fly up to it, he can still make himself large enough to reach up there and grab for Rico with giant claws as soon as he's gotten close enough.
What will YOU do?
boss battle
Unfortunately for you, in Rico's egotistical mind, he's just about as invincible as he thinks he is.
The Judges around him seem to fall away, suddenly as insubstantial as set dressing. The man next to him gives him a permissive nod, and Rico gives one last kick to the lever, sending the belts grinding into overdrive.
And with that, he sinks into the floor, and you grab at nothing but air.
He lands onto the ground, your surroundings changing around you. A huge, cavernous box layered with walkways at differing heights and saws littering the ground, grasping pincers that snatch out from the walls if you venture too close, making every movement an evasion. He stands up from his cat's crouch, and rises and rises and rises, until he's twenty foot tall and the ground shakes with every step he takes. The atmosphere becomes heavy, hot and stifling to even an extent where you would feel it.
Rico grins with eager, vicious anticipation.
I KNOW WE'̰̟̥̗̣̀V̬̹͇͇͕͖̳E͈͜ ͓͝BOTH B͘EEN̺̕ ͚̩̣̣̞̻͖̕W̼A̩̙̰Ị̟͈͢Ṱ̴̘̹I҉̲̯̘̲̞N͏̫̙̮͔̮̼̳G͈ ̷̳A̙̦͉ͅ ̺̠̻͇͎͘L̤̭ON̛G̣͍̹̼͈̫͡ͅ ̱͕̻͕̖T̰̪̘̥ͅIM҉̖̟̦E̵̙͔̮̖̗ ̦̰̞͇F̶͎̹͕̰̣̝O̸͈͇̭̤ͅR̶͎͓ ̻͚͘T̨͕̯H̷͕̤I̬̮͇̰̺S̖̘̗̯͢.̶̬͕̞̺
SO B҉̡͔̰͉R̴̫͙̥͍̯͇͙͜I̴̢͎̪Ǹ̙͉̰͉͘G̶̜̗̖̳̲̖̭̯͉ ̶̮͇̲̞͍͉I̼̻̫T O̖̠͎͇N͜҉̞̝͓̹̯̲̹,̝̭̻͇̺̫ ̹͔̘̞͚̬̠̝̕͜YOU STUPID P̟̻̩̜U̗̭̪̰̰̬͉̠N̶̪̭͔͖͠K̷͉̳̀͝
Come on. Let's go.
[➤d]
The statue for one, seemed odd. Usually, when the heroes made statues like this for one another, they tended to depict the person at their best, particularly when it was so prominently showcased. But this seemed...vindictive.
Walking up to the wall of badges, he runs his fingers over the edges of a few of the more twisted and damaged of them as he read the names. But none of them sound familiar enough to leave much of an impression, and soon he loses interest, finally moving on to the doorways.
The first one he reaches for is marked with several X's. Not recognizing the markings for what they were, he opened the door just enough to see what was behind it, and almost immediately pulls back away from it again with a disgusted snarl, slamming the door closed. With a disgruntled huff, he turned to look at the other exits, which didn't appear much more promising or appealing.
Or at least the doors didn't, the gaping hole in the wall on the other hand, was a curious thing. Walking closer, he expected to see something past the darkness but none of the light from the room he was in seemed to penetrate it in the slightest. He couldn't even see the floor, and he quickly found out why that was when he passed the thresh hold into nothing.
Suddenly falling into what seemed like an empty abyss, unable to simply fly out of it, he panicked. Moving his arms in circles at super speed, he tryed to slow his decent or create a cushion of air in the case that there was some bottom to this pit.
no subject
It goes on for much longer than you think. To the point where it might seem like there is no end, and your body is on the verge of giving up. But you manage to find the bottom eventually, when the howling winds whipped up around you flatten out, and your quick thinking means that the landing is only mildly jarring.
It’s still pitch black in here. But you can feel some kind of solid ground underneath your boots, bumpy with debris. The air radiates heat, stifling on your senses and prickling at your skin and every hair on the back of your neck. You get the sense that this is a place you would not like to linger. And approximately two meters to your left and low to the ground, there comes a voice, young and fearful, no older than fourteen or fifteen. Their breathing is ragged and pained, every inch a wounded animal.
“It’s not fair!” it screams. “It’s not fair!”