etrayalogs | MISSION 007

MISSION 007

WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: January 24th - ???
WHERE: Etraya
WHAT: The Quantum Rail
NOTES\WARNINGS: Class warfare, potential death.

⏵ the quantum rail ⏴

The morning of January 24th dawns with a sharp chill in the air, under a pale, overcast sky. Characters are all summoned to arrive to the new train station perched at the edge of the South Eastern island right on the edge of Etraya's barrier. The station itself feels like an artifact from another time - polished steel and worn brass glint beneath the pale light. Beyond the barrier, the tracks stretch out impossibly, gliding over dead earth and extending beyond the curve of the planet's edge into the space beyond. No explanation is given for how the rails defy gravity, or why it's placed as such.

Only the train may cross the barrier safely, and everyone must be inside of it before it begins it's trek. Aurora is present at the train station to see off everyone, and to remind them that they either need to take any companion animals along with them, or leave them in her direct care so she can bring them into the hospital where they will be safe until everyone returns. No one is allowed to stay behind, and any organic matter left outside of the hospital may not be the same when the citizens of Etraya return.

The train itself pulls through the barrier with little problem: some may notice the paneling of the barrier sliding out of the way to allow it to come through, and how some of the more liquid elements of the barrier stick to a few areas outside the train as it pulls up - an element that looks misplaced on the seemingly ancient train.

Aurora, along with her companion bots, direct the crowds to the correct carriages they'll need to board. The Elites are brought to carriages towards the front of the train, whereas everyone else is brought lower. Neons are dropped off to the beginning of their carriages, and Sprawls and Dregs are directed to board along with them. With the train stopped where it is, the only accessible carriages are those who belong to the upper class: the lower classes will have to travel backwards to get to their living quarters. Every Dreg is given a special pass, excusing their presence in areas of the train they may not usually be allowed, due to them assisting with an unspecified "mechanical issue".

They will discover why upon boarding: it quickly becomes apparent that those already aboard were entirely unaware the train had stopped at all. It's been running ceaselessly for generations, the rhythmic hum of it's machinery woven into the very fabric of life aboard.

Stories of a world before the train only linger in fragments - passed down as legends from the ancestors of those who currently reside on the train. Their world had been dying, they were told, and the only way to survive was to remain aboard the train as it sped along the Quantum Rail, drawing infinite power from the energy of it's movement.

No one truly understands the mechanisms that keep it in motion, but everyone understands that stepping off the train means certain death. To survive, it must continue, and so must the passengers residing within it.

⏵ life on the train ⏴
Life on the train is dictated by the class one is born into. This does not change, unless an Elite takes pity on one of those below them. However, not even Elites have ultimate power! They are allowed to request to keep someone of lower ranking along with them, but cannot grant them any power. They may not take in more individuals than they can house, and any actions taken by those under their care become the Elite's responsibility—including crimes. But why would any Elites take advantage of this? Their lives are perfect, pristine, they want for nothing, and they have all the companions here that they could ever need.

Their lifestyles show their status: their days are filled with elaborate social events, from masquerade balls to massive feasts and fun theater performances. Their carriages are lavish, with gold-inlaid floors, crystal chandeliers, and suites that look like miniature mansions all on their own. Elites live disconnected from the workings of the train, viewing it as a luxury liner rather than the lifeboat that it is. They may squabble between one another - Lady Lyra and Sir Grey have been known to fail to keep their quarrels on the quite side, and rumors of their affairs are often whispered between other socialites. But everything else? Well. The lower classes are there for their benefit, clearly. Why would they need to worry about anything?

The Neons thrive on structure and order. Their carriages feature a minimalist design, focusing on productivity. Their children follow a strict school schedule, and are often and are often assigned to their future roles based on observed skills. Their schooling is then based wholly around what role they will be given. There is limited choice among the Neons, and it becomes obvious from a very young age. They are assigned life partners among other Neons, are expected to reproduce just enough to replace their numbers and no more.

Doctors make their rounds, teachers hold their lessons for Elites, Neons, and Sprawls alike, and administrators enforce policies. Those who defy the regimented structure are quietly removed from their carriages and left with the Dregs, if they don't vanish entirely without explanation. Given this, not many are willing to step out of line, and most keep to themselves and their small family units.

In the carriages just beyond, the Sprawls lead lives of steady labor. Their areas are a blend of workshops and homes, where families may share compact spaces surrounded by tools, the smell of grease, and half-finished projects that are never entirely put away. Their shared kitchens and small gardens provide a sense of community, where individuals get together to eat their meals between projects. The devices they create and projects they're given are solely meant to replace broken parts and keep the train moving and nothing more. Given the limited amount of materials available, their inventory is carefully guarded.

Life isn't glamorous, but they have freedom to choose their spouses - or choose to not have one. If the number of Sprawls begins getting too low, a few children are selected from the Dregs to move up the ranks. While they are more free to make their own choices, they also seem to only have enough to go around; if famine hits, life among the Sprawls quickly turns awry. Food shortages may cause them to need to sacrifice one or two among them, and malfunctions of the more essential train pieces can cause significant stress on them and their numbers.

Further down, the Dregs endure the harshest conditions. They are crowded into dim, rust-lined carriages near the end of the train. Their bed frames, crafted from scrap metal, are stacked tightly to conserve space. The air smells faintly of oil and stale water, and leaves an unpleasant taste on one's tongue. Food arrives in ration packets, each block made of bugs that are harvested from the Dregs themselves at the far end of the train. Previous years have seen their bug supply die off rapidly due to disease, leaving them desperate and starving while slowly regrowing their population using the spares kept in the Sprawls carriages.

They are sent in to cover the jobs no one else on the train will do willingly. Children of the Dregs are sent to fill in empty space among the Sprawls when necessary, and they fill their days by cleaning the space between carriages, making sure the train continues it's trek without interruption.

Some Dregs have gathered into small gangs, who fight each other for control of their supplies. Some secretly hoard parts scavenged from t he train, believing they might one day be able to use them to seize control and escape from their less than ideal circumstances.

⏵ connection interrupted ⏴

Once they've settled into their temporary lives among the train inhabitants, Accelerator gets the opportunity to utilize his Esper abilities. Though normally connected to Aurora's network, Accelerator's attempt to draw more power while on the train causes a system-wide outage. Everyone's earpieces will suddenly make a loud, shrill noise, before their access to the HUD and the rest of the network's functions cuts off entirely.

For roughly ten minutes on Sunday, January 26th, the network will remain unavailable for everyone. Hopefully, no one was in the middle of an important conversation! If they were - well, there are always the letter carriers among the Sprawls who deliver important messages, but do you really want to try to communicate with someone else through a train native?

⏵ a gathering ⏴
There are not many parties that are open to multiple classes, but on Friday, January 31st, entertainment coordinators have managed to put together a massive get-together for the Elites, Neons, and Sprawls. Tables are set up in the Neons' common areas, each with name placards dedicated to specific individuals and large tea pots settled towards the center. The name placards are moved around between events, allowing individuals who may not normally socialize a chance to get to get to know new people. While many Sprawls and a few Neons are working, they are also given shifts so they can enjoy the gathering while others overtake their job duties.

Now, the party itself has multiple sections set aside for everyone's enjoyment! The first, is a play, based on the legend of the ancient god Abdastartos and his lover, Salka Hannes.

Abdastartos had fallen deeply, madly in love with one of his temple keepers, Salka. Salka had dedicated herself to taking care of the temple, spending every waking moment scrubbing marble clean and ensuring that all of those within the temple were well-cared for. She was truly a follower of Abdastartos' cause: peace, serenity, and healing.

Her devotion and beautiful voice caught his attention. Abdastartos, who often descended to the mortal realm in disguise to be among his followers, would spend his time assisting her in caring for the temple. It is said that her kindness softened the very marble of the temple, and her touch was so gentle that flowers would bloom where her hands had lingered.

The god, unable to resist his feelings, revealed himself to her one evening. He was not a towering figure, but a man of simple beauty who radiated calm like the dawn after a storm. Together, the two of them lived a beautiful but simple life within the temple.

But their relationship was frowned upon by the other deities. Teo, the god of strife and discord, became enraged when he learned his brother had taken a mortal as his lover. He sought out Salka, and imprisoned her heart in embers of the temple's fires, thus destroying her mortal body.

Abdastartos was not able to reverse Teo's actions, but he did have one consolation: the bright flames were fueled by Salka's love for Abdastartos, and as long as the flame remained lit, he knew her feelings for him remained strong.

At the end of the play, they are given some time to discuss what they've watched, and meet with the actors playing the various parts from the play.

The second segment was planned by event coordinator Fabian Seacaster. With newly developed technology, he introduces holographic displays of various animals! Partygoers are instructed to sit at their small tables which now feature small cages housing holographic birds. The smell of the outdoors is filtered into the carriages, allowing those who attend to feel like they're enjoying the birds in something close to their natural habitat.

A third segment was also planned by Fabian Seacaster. Every attending individual is given a mask. As they all put on their masks, they are told about the mysterious King, and how one of the individuals wearing the mask must be the King. There are a few other mysteries that they are instructed to solve, making a game out of the segment.

The fourth is simply for sitting and socializing towards the end of the night, giving them time to relax and enjoy their evening.

⏵ diversion ⏴

Using his position as a resource manager, Silco has been aiming to stoke the rebellion and get them up in arms. Unfortunately for many, it doesn't take much effort at all to get the Dregs in the mood for a good riot. Many of them have been waiting for the opportunity to get back at the upper classes who refuse to share the wealth.

They take advantage of the party. While a significant portion of the train is out enjoying their night, the lower classes begin fighting the guards meant to ensure they stay in line. With dangerously low ammo and limited weapons, the guards quickly find themselves outmatched as the fighting escalates.

Innocents become stuck in the cross fire, and before the Dregs and rebelling Sprawls have even managed to push through the Sprawls determined to protect their homes, many lives are lost. War is never pretty, and this is no different.

⏵ NOTES ⏴
For all questions relating to this mission, please refer to the plotting post. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ.

⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It didn't take very long for Accelerator to catch onto the class disparity in the train, and the grievances a lot of the lower classes hold towards the Elites. Being in Sprawl shielded him from the worst of it found in the Dregs, but Sprawls can't exactly escape the snide comments and looks from the upper classes. Of course, it was frustrating to see it going on, especially towards all of the kids, but in the interest of completing the mission and not wanting to make waves he's kept his head down.

Sadly, that's hard to do when an entire riot takes over the Sprawl cars. He's grateful he's brought his handgun, pissed off that he's running on extremely limited battery power, and currently making his way up the train cars with a couple of young Sprawl kids in tow. Jason's been left behind to keep the worst of the riot from following them - also annoying - but it's still rough going when the kids don't really want to move and he can't run.

Eventually they make their way up to Neon. Accelerator's intention is to find Harold, because finding Harold means a Neon cabin to lay low in until this all calms down. It also means finding John, and John's going to have extra ammo.

Very important, given he ran out of bullets two minutes ago.

He's hauling the kids along as best he can, glancing at doors and debating putting his gun away so he can get his earpiece out. It's one or the other, since his other hand has his crutch, and even if he doesn't have any bullets left he can still threaten people with a bluff. They're about halfway down a Neon car when one of the kids collapses bawling, clearly terrified out of her mind, and Accelerator clicks his tongue.

Then there's a noise behind them. The car door opening, several rioters with pipes and other makeshift melee weapons in their hands. They look all keyed up, and from the blood splatters on their clothing it looks like they've been busy. Cursing under his breath, Accelerator points the gun at them but doesn't fire, though that isn't as good a deterrent as he'd hope - they're just cursing back and advancing.

Fuck.

Vander had secured his own children in his assigned quarters, covered the body of the woman and removed the one blocking the door. The kids were scared and defiant, wanting to fight but knew they weren't in a position to do so, and thus, he left them in their room for now until the worst of the rioting was over. He took up station at his own front door, head tilted as he listened for signs of the angry roving gangs.

He heard a child crying, and even through the door, he could hear the exhausted terror. He closed his eyes, bowing his head. "I'm just... not that man anymore." He sighed from his nose and looked back at the body of his 'wife' covered in a sheet. "I knew you still had it in you..."

The mission had gone to sideways. If that was lost, he decided what good was it to not defend those that couldn't defend themselves? He'd been doing it for decades. He had vowed not to fall back to how things had been, when he had failed. He hit the button to open the door to his suite and it opened with a pneumonic hiss, allowing him to step out into the hallway between the advancing group and... Accelerator and a couple of kids.

His door closed behind him, sealing the children assigned to him safely inside and he turned his gaze to group. The lead member took a quick run and swung their pipe to crack open his skull, and one hand rose to snatch the pipe from connecting as his other hand swung around in a sharp brutal jab to the face, blood spraying from the newly broken nose. He ripped the pipe from the grip and turned to face the whole group.

"It's safe in there. Get the kids inside. I'll buy you time, Accelerator." The surprise in the group was wearing off. "Protect the kids they assigned to me." Not mine. Still under his protection. He stepped up and began to work his way through the group, using the pipe to block and push them back with sheer strength and tenacity.

And then he began to systematically take each man and woman apart.

It's far from an ideal situation. The train is extremely closed quarters, even in the more spacious Neon accommodations, and Accelerator is relying on his back-up computer for his brain function. For his esper ability, that means fifteen minutes and then he's practically catatonic. Maybe if the riot was occurring in one large area instead of being so cramped and spread out it wouldn't be an issue, but he isn't confident he can be all that effective in just fifteen minutes.

For a second he thinks his hand is going to be forced, that he needs to put the unloaded gun away and switch to his ability. It'd be worth it to protect the kids, but how long can he last if the rioting goes on for hours? His hand holding the gun twitches.

He doesn't have to make that decision. The door in between him and the mob opens, and Vander of all people steps out. It isn't John or Harold but hey, he'll take any help right now, and oh boy, is Vander good at helping. Accelerator is used to violence, he was desensitized to it a long time ago, so his shock isn't caused by that.

It's by how easily Vander intercepts and counters the pipe and breaks the guy's nose. Being big and muscle-y doesn't necessarily mean you know how to fight, but that isn't a concern with him, apparently.

Blinking, Accelerator glances over at the door briefly. "Okay," he replies with a short nod, putting his gun back into his belt before stooping down and grabbing the kid on the floor. He can ask about the skill behind that punch later. With a bit of difficulty he hauls her and the other one into Vander's... family cabin? Did he say kids were assigned to him? Jesus, this is just as bad as the Eos mission.

Actually, it's worse! The three of them get inside the cabin and he lets go of the girl, glancing around to quickly get his bearings. There's a slight pause when he sees the thing on the floor covered in a sheet and his brain starts putting the connections together - a spacious cabin, assigned kids, the size and form of that thing - but he focuses on the kids, herding them over to one of the other doors and into one of the bedrooms. Vander's kids are in there, just as terrified but unharmed, so he leaves all four of them together before returning to the entrance of the cabin, his hand on his choker just in case.

He damn well isn't going to just hide. If Vander gets overwhelmed, the least he can do is offer some back-up.

Close quarters like these left Vander with a distinct advantage. This was just like home expect that there weren't nooks and crannies to squeeze into for his adversary, no piled crates or supplies or garbage to gain leverage on. It was a narrow hallway with closed doors, and he was a master of taking up space. He wasn't trapped in the Neon car hallway with them; they had the misfortune of being trapped in it with him.

With the pipe now in hand and the front man falling back with a hand on the nose, he snapped the metal out to jab hard into the other man's gut then swung it up to catch him on the chin. Another was trying to work around to bring a knife to bear, and he countered the slash by smashing the pipe on that wrist, breaking it as a shout of pain sounded. He then put the pipe through the knife-wielder's throat, dropping them and losing his weapon.

The remaining group mobilized, surging and shoving one another forward in a mob-like disorganization. They had the strength of numbers, but the narrowness of the hallway and his own size didn't allow them to easily surround him.

One tried to skirt the wall to slide around to his back, and the attempt with met with a sharp elbow to the face then his hand dropped to seize the ruddy clothing to throw them back into their own crowd. The momentum allowed his fist to come around, smashing the fourth in the face, but this time it was joined by his other fist as he brawled with growling grunts. He took a jab on the chin and simply cross-countered, seemingly unaffected himself. Jab, jab, hook to the head dropped the fourth. He stepped over them.

Another knife and Vander twisted to the side expertly, his arm curling around the elbow to immobilize the threat. He landed a crushing headbutt once, twice and a third that broke yet another nose. Still holding his dazed opponent, he caved ribs in with a punch.

"I knew you had it in you..."

A knife slash from the fourth who had worked around his back barely earned his regard save to lift the limp body he was currently holding to beat the man with it, adding a kick to send the fourth man down the hallway towards his own living quarters. The man shuddered and didn't rise again.

His gaze found Accelerator in the doorway, and he offered only a small incline of acknowledgement of his head before he was turning back to the remaining four who seemed to take his presence and abilities as a challenge. They had to get through him to higher ranked train cars. More would be coming up behind; they had strength of numbers.

So they came on with their measly weapons and Vander met them.]

Upon reaching the door, Accelerator remains there instead of heading into the hall. The car is narrow and he doesn't want to be jumping into the fray without at least surveying the situation. With the small space and Vander still out there, he doesn't want to get his reflection up in case he accidentally hurts him. So he pauses in the doorway, there to witness Vander taking care of the rioters who've managed to get this far.

He's effective, really effective. Accelerator's hand remains on his choker unless something goes drastically wrong, but as he watches he has a growing suspicion that his ability isn't going to be necessary.

There's the splatter of blood, the crunch of bone, familiar sights and sounds to his mind. Some of those people are going to have to crawl out of here, some of them won't be getting up at all. It never occurred to him that a nice person like Vander could be this brutal but then, he doesn't really know him outside of the sense of fulfillment he gets from being fatherly. He wouldn't have guessed he could have this side to him.

But he does, and Accelerator has to wonder what kind of person he actually is.

It was over quickly at that point, the four remaining rioters scrambling to contend against his brawling abilities. He punched one out, stabbed one, bashed in the head of one with a pipe, and he let the fourth yell and flee. He reached out and closed the door to their car.

He turned from it, stepping over downed and dead rioters, pipe still in hand. He was blooded, but most of it wasn't his own, and he paused to lean on the wall. There was a casual air about him, though he made a point to stand closer to the end of the car with the bodies than on Accelerator's portion like a guard dog. More would come, and he would remain the wall that they would crash against.

Slowly, he rested the pipe against his thigh so that he could fish into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled packet of cigarettes. He fingered one out and popped it between his lips then lit it and took a long drag.

"Whose kids are you with?"

The crunch of the pipe against flesh and bone has Accelerator tensing slightly. He doesn't switch choker modes, nor does he flinch. The gore doesn't bother him - he's just glad the kids have been moved out of the way. They've already seen more than enough of that, and they don't need to see this. Especially the kids that had been assigned to Vander, because if they're seeing him as a dad... this would be a lot.

It's creepy how casual Vander is about all of this. He isn't the kind of person who should be casual about violence, that's behaviour that should be coming from a monster such as himself.

He remains where he is in the doorway. After a few seconds of watching the remaining bodies to ensure no one is going to get up he glances over at the interior of the cabin. The door to the bedroom is still closed, that's good. He looks back over at Vander, unphased by the cigarettes.

Actually, seeing them gives him a little pang of homesickness. Yomikawa smokes too, though she does it when she's stressed.

"They're some the Sprawls. I don't know them, they just got caught in the middle of this bullshit," he answers slowly. "... You were really good at that."

He needed the hit of nicotine to prepare himself for the inevitable questions and to ground himself from the deep welling barbed comments that swirled in his head. While he knew more rioters would come and that he would have to fall back from his stand here, he had already come to accept the possibility that he was going to die here. A train limited the avenues one could take.

He nodded his head at Accelerator's answer. Just a couple of random kids. It was always the kids that suffered worse when the fighting broke out. When he was a boy, it was the same. When he was teen, it was the same. When he was a man, it was the same. Those weren't his kids in there, but he felt a kinship to them because of how badly he had failed his other children from his passive inaction.

Mylo and Claggor dying. Ekko losing Benzo. Vi and Powder losing him. Countless others he didn't know about.

"You did them a favour pulling them out of there. They should be safe to stay in there until one or both of us die," he stated simply, accepting his own future fall. "Ah well, we all have our talents, some of which we don't just brandy about. That's not..." who I am died on his lips. It was who he was, who he had been. He took another long drag from his cigarette. "If you want to take all four kids and go further up the train, now is the opportunity. I'm taking a stand here."

Accelerator falls quiet as he weighs their options. Going forward could be useless if the rioting has spread, or if access to the Elite cars has been cut off. It wouldn't be hard for him to push through, but that time limit would make it an incredibly dangerous risk. One that he isn't sure he's willing to take with powerless kids in tow.

"I don't know how the cars ahead are doing," he mutters, tapping his chin. He could try calling someone up there, but the situation is so volatile by the time he does that it could have changed. "Chances are, if the guards have been alerted, they aren't gonna be letting anyone into the Elite's areas."

That, and he doesn't really like Vander bringing up the potential of death. It's realistic, for sure, and normally he wouldn't really care if he died or not, but... there's a bunch of kids in the mix. And he doesn't want Vander to go and die, either.

He glances up from his thoughts. "Do you care if we stick around? I can be back-up if you need it."

How much had the riot spread up the train cars? There were raids in the personal homes, pilfering goods, killing occupants, spreading up towards the engine of the train. More would come from up and down the train, tearing up lives, potentially sacrificing entire worlds.

"Perhaps you're right. No where on this train is any more safe in one place to the next," he finally agreed, taking a drag from his cigarette. His fingers played over the top of the pipe, rolling it around where it rested on the floor. "The Elite cars will be guarded, but it's a matter of time. I've seen some of the groups and their violence... they'll break through with enough time."

The kids were potentially safer at their current location, hidden in a bedroom with himself and Accelerator standing guard. Perhaps it would be better if Accelerator was inside standing further guard; it might be the last stand the kids had. Anyone traveling may bypass the apartment...

"That's fine. Moving them puts them at greater risk. Do you need more weapons?" Plenty in the hallway with the corpses at the other end of the car.

Accelerator gives a short nod, grateful that the kids don't have to keep on moving. All in all, this isn't so bad. Vander is clearly capable at dealing with angry mobs, so maybe they'll be able to handle it until the rioting dies down. If it's absolutely necessary he could always switch his choker's connection back over to Aurora's network. It would kill the earpieces again, but it would offer them fifteen more minutes of firepower.

He keeps that option in the back of his mind. Downing their best means of communication across the entire train isn't something he wants to do if he can help it.

".... No, not unless you've got some 9mm rounds stashed somewhere. There isn't any point to me using a melee weapon," he answers with a snort. The idea of him using something like the pipe Vander has is hilarious, he'd probably end up pulling a muscle just trying to swing the damn thing without his ability.

This was not his first riot, mob, or revolution. He simply wishes it wasn't so detrimental to the kids of this place; they always seemed to suffer more than most when swept up into these affairs. While he had no doubt the riots were multifaceted, there was one person he was going to blame for this because everything about this was that guy's M.O.

He took a longer drag from his cigarette, turning his head at the sound from the train car connected to theirs. It seemed like the next group might be scavenging below them and would make their way into this car. He didn't blame them; desperate times and desperate measures, but the willful violence necessary to facilitate this kind of action put everyone at risk.

He had picked up a firearm on his way back to his train car from the work shift. He pulled it out of the back hem of his pants and slid it across the floor to Accelerator. "There should be a full clip in that one. I don't know a lot about firearms, but it seems you can make use of it." He knew how to handle one and not shoot himself at least.

"I would prepare yourself. We'll be receiving company soon." He was butting out his cigarette and pushing off of the wall, pipe coming to hand.

Tensing at the sounds coming from beyond their car, he's glad for the additional bullets. It makes him a little bit less useless. Accelerator bends down and scoops up the firearm, then leans against the door frame again so he can let go of his crutch temporarily to remove the clip. After setting that gun aside, he pulls his own back out and loads it. He's had a lot of practice, so his motions are fluid.

"Okay," he replies, adjusting his grip on his handgun. The dumb thing is a bit too heavy for his liking, but it's worked well enough for him so far. There hasn't been any real need to replace it yet.

Once he's ready he sighs a little, waiting. Absently, his eyes trail over to the body that's still off to the side, covered by a sheet. This wasn't the first wave of rioters, and there's no way it'll be the last. He purses his lips for a few moments. "How much worse was it earlier?"

It was clear from the way that Accelerator handled the new firearm that the kid knew what he was doing. Vander was not entirely certain he wanted a firearm at his back, but he had to trust the kid was a good shot for potentially shooting into close contact fighting. It wasn't that he hadn't been shot before, but he needed his fortitude on the likelihood of hours of fighting ahead of him.

He waited, listening and prepared without starting as the aggressor so far. His fingers flexed on the pipe as he stared at the door. He had not bothered the clear a path to those that would be coming; he expected the visceral scene would potentially force them to rethink their actions venturing into this train car.

"I wasn't here when they breached this car; I came shortly after," he said simply. "Most went ahead. Some stayed behind to loot." The woman assigned to him had scuffled just before he arrived. He had finished that fight as soon as he arrived.

Accelerator doesn't look concerned about his use of the gun. It's a small space, he acknowledges that and he'll adjust accordingly. The absolute last thing he wants to do is hurt Vander, especially in the middle of all of this.

"Oh," he replies in a quieter voice. That means he wasn't here when it happened, or that he was at least too late to stop it from happening. Either way, it's really unfortunate. Accelerator can't imagine how screwed up it was for the kids.

Silent for a few moments, he adds an awkward, "... Sorry." It feels strange to say that, and he isn't sure if he even should. Maybe it would've been better if he just stayed silent?

He doesn't have any time to dwell on that thought, from the far end of the car comes a lot of yelling and banging noises.

It was a common enough story woven through out the lives of most people. Arrive too late, say the wrong words, ostracize the wrong person, make a bad deal. It all came to the same place, and he didn't know her well enough to feel more than the cursory sadness one with empathy was able to for the death of a person. He'd saved the kids, though whether it would make a difference or not was up for debate.

"She deserved better, I assume. We didn't know each other all that well," he remarked in the face of Accelerator's apology. "Kids didn't deserve to see her like that, so I covered her out of respect."

Vander turned his body towards the door and walked forward as the swell of combat on the other side rose and then died away. The door slid open and another person stumbled in clutching their middle. Blood was wicking over their clothes and even without seeing the injury, he knew that the other was going to die.

Five people armed with both firearms and martial weapons piled in next, drawing to a stop at the sight of him filling the hall and Accelerator beyond him further down the car. "Afternoon, gents. This car is closed, but if you're going to insist making your way through it, you will have to go through me. I suggest you turn around and head back down the line." His tone was reasonable, amicable even, but his hand was clenched on the pipe as he was ready to swing it and immediately throw himself into a fight.

"... I see." Not anyone from Vander's home, and likely not anyone from Etraya, then. It briefly crosses Accelerator's mind that if it was the latter, they'd probably come back within two days. That's what had happened to him despite being on Eos's planet, though... the situation there was essentially a mirror of Etraya itself. Eos is Aurora's older sister. The train seems to be a bit different, and it's hard to tell how much control Echo has over it.

There's the possibility that the person under the sheet, or anyone else who's died here, will stay dead. Does that mean anyone from Etraya will stay dead, too? This is a mission though, so it's possible they'll come back....

Accelerator isn't sure about any of that, and he doesn't want to find out.

He trains his eyes on the door as it slides open, gaze flicking down to the hands of the guy stumbling in. No weapons, so his attention slides off of him and to the five following, Vander's words buzzing in his ears as he appraises them all. God, it'd be easier to use his ability, but his gun will have to do. As soon as he spots a firearm he zeroes in on the person wielding it, waiting until he has a clear shot before immediately firing on them.

At this point it doesn't really matter to him if he kills them or not. He'd like to only injure, sure, but he doesn't have that luxury right now. There are the kids to protect, and there's no way in hell he's going to let Vander catch a stray bullet.

Death was an every day occurrence where he was from, and the best intentions could still not be enough to preserve life. If the community was strong enough, people would come together to celebrate an exceptional life. If the community was strong enough, they could withstand the pressures of this kind of violence usually. If they stuck together, they were better...

But it didn't matter because the new group seemed to weigh their options of going through him or retreating. Maybe one or two considered trying to find another way, but then Accelerator shot one of the new threats and that was that.

Vander too used the discharge of a firearm as a signal and swung his pipe up, catching the lead man under the jaw and cracking bone as the man fell backwards. He waded in, blocking knives and other make shift weapons where he could and ignoring the inflicted injuries where he couldn't. He kept to one side, giving as much a space as he could for Accelerator to operate and hopefully not shoot him.

Bodies began to pile up on those already stinking up the hallway in short order. He had no quarter but neither did he stop the retreat of the one who broke and panicked to get back to the other car again.

Accelerator is, thankfully, a very good shot despite his lack of experience. He had picked up firearms shortly after receiving his brain injury; the inability to consistently depend on his esper ability meant he needed a reliable back-up plan to defend himself in a fight, and guns made the most sense. He isn't a physical fighter, so melee weapons weren't an option. His own fists were out of the question, his technique is nonexistent and he doesn't have the physical strength needed to be a threat.

So guns it was. And like most things, once he put in the effort he picked up the skill quickly. Of course, he isn't as good as someone with years of experience like John, but right now he isn't having any problems avoiding Vander and hitting the rioters when he needs to. He's conservative with his bullets though, especially once Vander gets going. The guy's a beast and more than capable in a fight, so he aims for limbs when he sees a clear shot, trying to interrupt attacks that Vander misses.

When he sees the one rioter break away he stiffens, aiming and ready to shoot. But the guy is moving in the opposite direction, away from the kids.

For a beat he stares hard.

Then he aims slightly lower, at the guy's upper arm, and fires. He only grazes him, nothing life-threatening, just a warning as to what'll happen if he tries again. As pitiful as it is, Accelerator is proud of himself for not outright killing the guy.

He was keenly aware of the firearm's discharge, and he was not used to having it at his back. It was the weapon of choice of the Enforcers, and they could and often would use such weapons on his people openly. Cruelty was a part of the suppression, a part he had fought against as much as he could for years.

So even with concentrating on the hand-to-hand combat and doing well for himself, he twitched with each sound of the firearm. Yet, he didn't change his course either, logically reminding himself that it was Accelerator.

The fight was often after some minutes, the last rioter retreating with a well-placed bullet as a warning. He bent down to collect weapons from the bodies, pulling them away and piling them more towards their defensible location. The aches and pains of combat took that moment to make themselves known to him as the adrenaline ebbed away.

Unfortunately, there were no firearms in the mix with this lot. Knives, clubs, hammers and even shivs were among the collected weapons. He looked at Accelerator as he dropped the last of the obvious weaponry in the pile. He wiped blood from his cheek with the back of his hand; it hadn't been his.

"Not your first rodeo, hmm? Thanks for not shooting me."

With Vander directly in Accelerator's line of sight it's hard not to see the twitching. In the middle of the fighting, all he does is take it into account when aiming.

He's grateful when the rioting ebbs away, lowering the gun as soon as it's safe. Then he doublechecks his ammo - one bullet left, great - and after frowning, puts the safety on before sticking it in his belt. As Vander collects the weaponry his eyes travel down to the pile, looking it over for anything else he could use. Unfortunately, it's all stuff that requires either strength or dexterity, and he's lacking in both areas when he isn't using his ability. Seriously, he may as well just use his crutch if he's going to try beating someone over the head.

"Tche." He clicks his tongue. That remark is sounding like something that could lead into a compliment, and he doesn't like it. "I'm a convicted felon, I have a lot of experience with guns. It wasn't a big deal."

If the next wave - and there would be a next wave he was certain - was around the same number of people, he would likely be able to handle them on his own. He would tire in time, but he was willing to hold his own up until that moment. There was enough weaponry that he was confident even if the pipe broke that it wouldn't matter much.

"Ah well, seems like we're probably both part of that club," he remarked as he shifted through the weapons stock. He picked out a knife and tucked it into his belt before moving to stretch his legs and shoulders. "Still, you were jesting when you said you were a good shot. You have bullets left?"

Accelerator clicks his tongue, glancing back into the home and towards the bedroom the kids are hiding in. The door is closed and still in one piece, so they're probably fine, but he's wondering if they should check on them to make sure they're okay.

"Only one," he replies with a growl, irritated that ammunition is in such short supply on the train. "Unless I use my ability I'm gonna be useless pretty damn quick."

"No, don't use your ability," Vander said firmly. "At this point, it's for emergency use if it has a limit of time. I'll hold the line here." He turned to look at Accelerator, sizing the kid up. He expected that a smart kid like that could see the writing on the wall.

They couldn't maintain this pace forever. More would come; that was the nature of the train with its limited options to choose other paths forwards and backwards.

"Our choices are we hide out in the apartment rather than here or you take the kids and find safer alternatives and I stay here to buy you time."

The second option sounds more risky, but with a potentially better outcome. The big problem with it is Vander buying time. Who knows how long he can hold out? If the rioting goes on for hours he's eventually going to get exhausted, overwhelmed, and - ....

He doesn't want to leave the guy alone. That means the choice is obvious.

"I'll stay," he replies, turning his gaze from the hallway to the door frame, eyes flicking over it as he examines it. "This is a sliding door so we can't barricade it, but we could probably jam the closing mechanism so it stays shut. What do you think? Making it hard to get into the apartment might cause the rioters to just move on instead of sticking around."

MISSION 007

Diverson // wildcard.

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sorry, i swear i replied to this... D:

all good!

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