Day Zero - Betsy at the Citadel
Oct. 25th, 2008 04:25 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsObserving the Citadel, Betsy gets a little too close to some of the action.
"Christ," Betsy coughed at the fumes. The bloom of smoke emanating from between several high rises in the city created a yellow haze in parts of Midtown but the smell of burning chemicals was worse. It burned at her throat and felt like glass shards on her skin and eyes. In the initial chaos, she'd managed to find and help several pedestrians stranded or pinned after the blast of the newest land development in New York, the Tower. The Police and National Guard troops paid her no mind since she'd blurred her existence, making it so they couldn't see her at all. "An angel," an older man whisper to her.
Now, as she'd crossed the eight blocks towards Madison Square Garden, a whine followed by a high screech from above sent Betsy ducking into small alleyway by Number One Penn Plaza. She pressed herself up against the brick wall and looked up to the heavens. "Dear God."
Above her, she could see the black spire of the structure people were now calling "The Citadel" stretching towards the grey sky, and two F-22 Raptor jets zoomed by, banking in a tight turn for another approach.
Both aircraft leveled off around the southern tip of the island, coming in on what appeared to be a direct course for the Citadel. Telltale flashes from their fuselages presaged the streaks of four air-to-surface missiles being released and screaming at twice the speed of sound towards the imposing structure.
What happened next was almost impossible to describe. A platform seemed to extend from the side of the Citadel, with an enormous man in red armor standing proudly at the tip. As the missiles approached, he spread his arms wide, then clapped his hands almost casually. The world seemed to blur as a shock wave spread out, distorting the view from the ground before the deafening crack sounded. A set of starburst explosions peppered the sky, detonating the missiles before they could strike.
Chunks of debris fell down to the city below.
Betsy ducked low as one large piece of unexploded missile made to give her a painful haircut. She rose quickly to catch sight of a red flashing light embedded in the wall she'd been leaning against that screamed to every nerve in her body, DETONATOR. RUN. Taking two great strides, Betsy bounded towards the subway entrance, at the last minute, she kept from going inside but hid behind the iron posts. She slid behind the barrier and placed her hands over head just in time to feel the air being sucked away from her.
The missile exploded, taking a good chunk of the brick building with it. Through the smoke, the two jets could be seen circling around for another pass - only to find another individual in their way. This one appeared to be a slim girl clad in similar form-fitting armor, sitting astride a mechanical horse that somehow levitated in midair.
As the jets screamed towards her, she merely lifted her arms. From the ground, Betsy could see the jets' engines sputter and flame out - and then the multi-million-dollar aircraft plummeted from the sky - one careening down directly for the wrecked building.
Betsy's eyes widened as the jet started its downward spiral. Oh shit. She stood up and started to back away but stopped as she heard the frantic chatter from the pilot as he tried to regain control. The pilot couldn't understand the fuel error as his gauges still read a full tank. "Get out," Betsy murmured, still taking a few steps back. Her eyes still transfixed to the fast approaching jet on her position. Betsy heard the voices over the radio, telling the pilot to eject and listened to his refusals. She had to intervene.
In between one beat and the next, Betsy found herself in the cockpit with the pilot, watching as he frantically tried to save his plane. He shook his head at her urging. Finally, she gave him a mental shove, barking at him "You can't pull out, you stubborn git. Your baby is done, dead, gone and you will be if you don't get out." Her hand hovered over his as he struggled to pull the eject button. "If you survive this, you can come after me then.."
Betsy forced his hand over the eject button and pulled. She snapped back into herself and saw the pilot eject into safety and smiled but the joy was short-lived. The jet was almost upon her and as she ran into the lobby with a glass entrance and dived into an open elevator.
Twenty-five tons of aircraft, fuel, and ordnance smashed into the building at close to terminal velocity. Cutting-edge flight surfaces designed to withstand multiple-G aerobatics crumpled like tissue paper upon impact, igniting the fuel tanks and setting off the remainder of the jet's onboard weapons, creating a fireball that consumed not only the building, but its adjoining neighbors in a maelstrom of heat and flame.
As the second jet spiraled down and crashed into the river, the two red-armored figures paused for a moment, then headed back into the obsidian-black Citadel, and for a moment the world was silent again.
"Christ," Betsy coughed at the fumes. The bloom of smoke emanating from between several high rises in the city created a yellow haze in parts of Midtown but the smell of burning chemicals was worse. It burned at her throat and felt like glass shards on her skin and eyes. In the initial chaos, she'd managed to find and help several pedestrians stranded or pinned after the blast of the newest land development in New York, the Tower. The Police and National Guard troops paid her no mind since she'd blurred her existence, making it so they couldn't see her at all. "An angel," an older man whisper to her.
Now, as she'd crossed the eight blocks towards Madison Square Garden, a whine followed by a high screech from above sent Betsy ducking into small alleyway by Number One Penn Plaza. She pressed herself up against the brick wall and looked up to the heavens. "Dear God."
Above her, she could see the black spire of the structure people were now calling "The Citadel" stretching towards the grey sky, and two F-22 Raptor jets zoomed by, banking in a tight turn for another approach.
Both aircraft leveled off around the southern tip of the island, coming in on what appeared to be a direct course for the Citadel. Telltale flashes from their fuselages presaged the streaks of four air-to-surface missiles being released and screaming at twice the speed of sound towards the imposing structure.
What happened next was almost impossible to describe. A platform seemed to extend from the side of the Citadel, with an enormous man in red armor standing proudly at the tip. As the missiles approached, he spread his arms wide, then clapped his hands almost casually. The world seemed to blur as a shock wave spread out, distorting the view from the ground before the deafening crack sounded. A set of starburst explosions peppered the sky, detonating the missiles before they could strike.
Chunks of debris fell down to the city below.
Betsy ducked low as one large piece of unexploded missile made to give her a painful haircut. She rose quickly to catch sight of a red flashing light embedded in the wall she'd been leaning against that screamed to every nerve in her body, DETONATOR. RUN. Taking two great strides, Betsy bounded towards the subway entrance, at the last minute, she kept from going inside but hid behind the iron posts. She slid behind the barrier and placed her hands over head just in time to feel the air being sucked away from her.
The missile exploded, taking a good chunk of the brick building with it. Through the smoke, the two jets could be seen circling around for another pass - only to find another individual in their way. This one appeared to be a slim girl clad in similar form-fitting armor, sitting astride a mechanical horse that somehow levitated in midair.
As the jets screamed towards her, she merely lifted her arms. From the ground, Betsy could see the jets' engines sputter and flame out - and then the multi-million-dollar aircraft plummeted from the sky - one careening down directly for the wrecked building.
Betsy's eyes widened as the jet started its downward spiral. Oh shit. She stood up and started to back away but stopped as she heard the frantic chatter from the pilot as he tried to regain control. The pilot couldn't understand the fuel error as his gauges still read a full tank. "Get out," Betsy murmured, still taking a few steps back. Her eyes still transfixed to the fast approaching jet on her position. Betsy heard the voices over the radio, telling the pilot to eject and listened to his refusals. She had to intervene.
In between one beat and the next, Betsy found herself in the cockpit with the pilot, watching as he frantically tried to save his plane. He shook his head at her urging. Finally, she gave him a mental shove, barking at him "You can't pull out, you stubborn git. Your baby is done, dead, gone and you will be if you don't get out." Her hand hovered over his as he struggled to pull the eject button. "If you survive this, you can come after me then.."
Betsy forced his hand over the eject button and pulled. She snapped back into herself and saw the pilot eject into safety and smiled but the joy was short-lived. The jet was almost upon her and as she ran into the lobby with a glass entrance and dived into an open elevator.
Twenty-five tons of aircraft, fuel, and ordnance smashed into the building at close to terminal velocity. Cutting-edge flight surfaces designed to withstand multiple-G aerobatics crumpled like tissue paper upon impact, igniting the fuel tanks and setting off the remainder of the jet's onboard weapons, creating a fireball that consumed not only the building, but its adjoining neighbors in a maelstrom of heat and flame.
As the second jet spiraled down and crashed into the river, the two red-armored figures paused for a moment, then headed back into the obsidian-black Citadel, and for a moment the world was silent again.
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