I've been chillin' out on a star with my 5 star view

[lucetimods]

Who: All draftees
What: The space battle commences
When: After 3PM on the 19th to the 23rd
Where: In Space! On the Moon!
Summary: The battle finally begins! First there's asteroids to take down, then we finally arrive!
Rating: SPACE

MORE SPACE

All the details you need are here, so read up on it. This didn't get mentioned before, but you can tag the cultists instead of killing them. Details on this are on a previous draft post. Using the scanners are optional!

There will be a thread for interacting with NPCs, but they may not all go up at once, so keep an eye out for them.

Note: A log for the events in the village will go up on the 21st, in time for the hurricane and droid incursion.

Comments

June 21st—23rd

[fuckthemission]

[By now people should know where this guy likes to linger around and keep an eye on everyone. He scales up to the highest spot the dome has to offer (just a few stories ain't much, man, even if it's space and therefore excused) and waits. When the fighting breaks out, you may find that the enemy you were about to kill just... keeled over head. There's a dude in the distance with a scope who's totally stealing your kills. No offense, bro, just downing them all before anything bad can happen.

Or maybe you're in need of some scope-tastic rescue. He can do that, too. That's why if you're about to get stabbed or impaled (whatever colorful terminology you'd prefer), you might find someone offering a little back-up. Granted eventually on the 22nd on his third patrol, he'll find himself in a shitload of trouble when a winged jerk swoops down and grabs him by the shirt, trying him as high as the fucker can go before he just. Drops him.

Whelp.

On the 23rd (after surviving from nearly splatting) he'll offer some ground support with his M4, finding whoever needs aid from the Third Party. Of course there might be a time he'll be the one needing some help, because at some point he's moving up behind a dented-up wall while a volley of arrows narrowly misses him. There's a ton of big wings in this area. A little too many, he thinks.

He can be caught down from his sniping point getting ammunition or food from the 21st until the fighting gets really heavy. Or one can even meet him up there, for whatever reason they may have. Maybe company is nice, or something. He likes company, anyway: social butterfly despite his separative occupation. Maybe you just got tossed into the roof he's chillin' on. It happens.

He expects anything, at this point. :|]

...let me know if this is okay?

[stillplaying]

[The fights don't give much time to watching others. But more than once, she does notice Rick up high. Notices him staring out of a scope like one he had showed her once, notices how moments later, the enemy he was aiming at is down. It's impressive. Very impressive.

Especially when it saves her more than once.

But a promise is a promise. He had said that he would protect her. She had promised the same thing. How couldn't she? He's the first person she's learned to care about here, someone that isn't Peeta or Rue. And at one point, when one of the bigger winged people get too close to him on the 23rd, an arrow pierces the enemy's eye.

Later, when all the fighting is through, she seeks him out. Looks him over from head to toe.] You're still okay.

Yes >:^|b

[fuckthemission]

[He's switching his weapons over when he runs back into her--is flipping his sniper rifle around to hang on his back while he holds the M4 in hand at ease. And of course regardless of the situation, he still smiles. Because it's simply what he does, even in the battlefield.

Smiling did a lot of good back home.]

I could say the same. You been doing alright out here?

[stillplaying]

[Smiling's difficult. Impossible since arriving here. As much as a part of her wants to muster up the ability to return Rick's grin, she can't. She can only shrug.

Doing alright... No, she realizes. No, not really. She's killed again. Killed indiscriminately, without thinking. How does that make anything alright? So, she shrugs again.]

Alive.

[fuckthemission]

[He pats her shoulder, squeezes it reassuringly.]

That's about how everyone'd reply at this point, I think.

[He's scraped up, looks like he'd been dragged a few times, hit by debris maybe, but particularly in one piece. He can thank a Jedi for catching him when he plummeted several stories.]

I'm glad. You should go get some rest, huh? Rest those feet--I'm sure they're probably sore by now.

[His definitely are. Reminds him of Andy again--fighting lately, things remind him of home too often.]

I'm just going to be doing a perimeter watch, make sure everything's in the clear. Better safe than sorry.

22nd, because THIS IS TOO FANTASTIC.

[averybadfeeling]

[Obi-Wan was in the midst of a fight with two cultists, and he seemed to be holding his own rather nicely- defensively matching their blows with parries of his saber and playing them against one another- up until he gets distracted.

Because he's just spotted another one headed straight for the marksman from the mission.]

"Behind you!"

[Before he can see if his warning was heeded, he's forced to give his attention back to the cultists, who are now flanking him. Blast.]

IT'S RAINING SNIPERS, hallelujah

[fuckthemission]

[Warning indeed--that's the problem with not having a backing sniper out here. People can sneak up a little better--especially since, y'know, they swoop down at unfair speeds. He's got enough time to turn before the man grabs him by the collar and carries him up with a grunt toward the top of the dome.]

Fuck-!

[Blast indeed. He's grabbing the other man's arms until his knuckles go white, because the bastard's trying to drop him into a human puddle.

Can't do this much longer, though. He thinks - well, this could be it. Dying in his first draft, just peachy. But at least he helped enough people. At least he did some good. He grits his teeth when one hand is pried off his enemy, and he uses this opportunity to take his combat knife and run it through the guy's stomach.

Taking him out too.

Needless to say, he drops out of the guys grasp like a bag of rocks.]

GOD BLESS SMITH AND WESSON?

[averybadfeeling]

[Obi-Wan can see the Cultist taking him higher, and guesses at his plan, but the two cultists aren't giving him enough room to ask.

Come on, just wait a moment. Just wait to drop him until I've eliminated one of the-

And then the blasted sniper goes and knifes him himself. Blasted hero complexes will be the death of him. He channels strength into his leg, kicks a cultist hard enough to send it slamming into a wall, then bats aside the other's weapon and manages to decapitate him. His hand is bleeding profusely, but it gives him a moment, and that's all he needs as he stretches out and catches Doyle with the Force.]

BUT OF COURSE

[fuckthemission]

[Had he stopped to consider a jedi could hover people in the air, maybe he would've held out longer, but oh well. No time for epiphanies when you're floating in the air surprised that you're not dead yet. He's not even going to question it because right now, there are winged fighters and he's hovering, so he scrambles to pull the pistol from the holster on his thigh and leans his head back to see where the person keeping him alive is.

Aims and fires, and the cultist who had been kicked into a wall is slumping against it stone dead. He returns his aim up again and shoots the man who'd been holding him, a little surprised at his tenacity for life when the knife hadn't done the trick.]

Clearly "It's Raining Men" is their song. Especially in relation to a certain doctor /Shot

[averybadfeeling]

[That cultist was, in fact, surprisingly resilient. If the shot didnt do it, the thrown lightsaber would...

... or it would have, if another cultist hadn't leapt at him and begun a rather vicious assault that leaves Obi-Wan trying his best to parry the flurry of movements.

Sorry, Doyle, he's trying his best to hold you steady as he lowers you toward the ground with his free hand.]

PFFFT

[fuckthemission]

[SHIT SHIT SHIT

He drops a little, rocks, but he's alright and he's still aiming his sights. Once he's finally collapsing to his knees he's firing one, two, three shots at the cultist. Down on ground level and he's stuck with a knife and a pistol. Great.]

[averybadfeeling]

[The three shots ring out, and the cultist falls to his knees. Obi-Wan spares all formalities and quickly stabs the cultist's heart. A quick, painless death.]

"Sorry if the landing was a little rough."

[fuckthemission]

I've had rougher landings. [A pause, because he has a chance to regain his breath.] Thanks for the.... uh. Hand?

[averybadfeeling]

"You needn't thank me. Consider this the return of a favor- I believe your ranged support has been quite helpful."

[fuckthemission]

[Scanning the area--clear for now--he shrugs with a smile. Dropped several stories doesn't do as much to him as he thought it would. :|a] I'm glad to hear it--anything to help.

The problem is getting back to being the ranged support.

[He checks his clip, and finds it's almost out. He's got other ones in his uniform pocket, at least, though he doubts they'll last much longer down here in the killzone.]

21st

[alloys]

[He's a little worse for wear, but still going. That totally doesn't mean he needs your back-up, okay. He was totally about to shoot a repulsor blast into that oncoming cultist when suddenly he just drops dead, shot through the neck.

... :| He turns to look around.]

That one still counts as mine.

[HE KNOWS YOU'RE UP THERE, NOT HAWKEYE.]

21st

[fuckthemission]

[Bzzzcht. Little radio just cackles under its breath.]

Didn't see your weapons nail 'em. Deal with it.

21st

[alloys]

[Did he just tell him to deal with it. :|]

Yeah, I think that's called pass interference. I had that one.

21st

[fuckthemission]

Not illegal to catch or hit the ball before it reaches the receiver, pal. We like to call that a really nice interception.

[Said oh so eloquently like a good American should before he aims and fires, knocking a distant cultist out of the sky. They have big wings, y'know. It's Easy Target City in here.]

21st

[alloys]

[Yeah, yeah, blah, blah, you and your super special sniping skills. He gets it.]

What, now you're charging ahead? I don't think so.

[He fires two blasts at distant cultists himself. Their wings are a nice target, it's true.]

21st

[fuckthemission]

Charging ahead? Why, I have no idea what you mean. I haven't budged an inch.

[He aims again, blows someone's brains out, breathes and blinks and refocuses instantly to the next flying target. Under his breath, a half-laugh preluding it:]

I'm fuckin' shooting people with wings in space with a superhero. What the fuck.

[alloys]

[Innit beautiful.]

Cute. But you know what this means, right? Competition. You started it.

[His turn. Blast blast before Doyle can get them.]

[fuckthemission]

Sounds more like you did. I'm just doing my job.

[Fine, be that way. He'll just shoot some cultists who are still far off in the distance. FIGHT ME, BRO.]

It's not my fault you're insecure about your lasers.

[alloys]

[GOSH THOSE DON'T COUNT THEY WEREN'T EVEN IN THE VICINITY YET!]

Maybe it's because they're not lasers. I like to think a sniper would recognize them when they see them, but I suppose you just proved me wrong.

[fuckthemission]

Well, sheesh, sorry if I assumed an allegedly cool superhero had lasers.

[it totally counts. see? still counting.

PEW PEW PEW]

Are you saying you don't?