World Tree MUSH

    Al-Mazrah was intended to be an oasis in a region rocked by warfare, modernized and looking to the future as opposed to clinging to the past. It's a gorgeous city, with amendities that some places in First World countries would kill to get. It's just a step below Dubai when it comes to modernization. It's also a step below when it comes to greed.

    The manifesto was issued a month ago, a call to action against corporate greed exploiting the Middle-East, collusion with the west diluting traditions. It's classic terrorist crap, really.

    So there's a van on a curb near town square with four fellows waiting, watching with baited breath as people outside go about their business in blissful ignorance.

    "Wish we coulda gone shoppin', 's almost Christmas." Soap says as he jealously eyes a clothing store. That leather jacket is practically calling his name.

    "That's your problem. But hey, it brings a lotta tourist dollars. I'm not complaining."

    "First off, Scottish. Second, yer not wrong. Guess I'm just homesick."

    "Be a good boy and maybe Santa'll reward you, Johnny." Ghost says, muffled mildly by the skull mask.

    The cop glances to the taller Brit, "Do you ALWAYS have to wear that thing? You're gonna scare me more than any wacko with an AK could."

    Ghost doesn't answer, instead he's focused on a green truck passing at the intersection before it suddenly stops. "That's our mark. We're up, lads."

    The van's already got cops surrounding it, one of the police is issuing commands to stop and exit the vehicle in Farsi. Before Soap, Ghost, and their chaperones even reach the stoplight, the van goes off in a fireball. Car doors open up all over the intersection as terrorists with AKs and other automatics start to engage the police.

    "Rashid heard us, didn't he?" Soap asks over the roar of gunfire as he and Ghost take cover. "Stubborn bastard practically let this happen!"

    "Pride goeth before the fall. Cover me, Johnny." As Soap lays down cover fire, Ghost rushes out to grab one of the prone officers, dragging him by the plate carrier while returning fire with his sidearm.

    Stelle's here... given the ability of the Nameless to traverse wherever they want, she left the Belobog issue for a while to go wandering.

    She eyes the police warily, as she looks through the windows of one shop... right before everything goes to hell and gunfire starts going off. "... Never a dull moment. You owe me for this one." she says to noone in particular. The grey-haired, golden eyed girl wades out into the gunfight, bullets striking her body and leaving holes in her outfit... but not dropping her. She walks up to a group of clearly terrorists, with their balaclavas and such, and just... grabs one and uses him to beat the crap out of his friends.

>> SUMMARY[Stelle] >> You ever get so angry...

The irony is that Itana might have sided with the terrorists, if not for the whole attacking innocent civilians thing. The glitter and greed of this place make her profoundly uncomfortable. So do the nomadic Aimaqs outside who keep expecting her to put real clothes on. With few places to be truly comfortable, she's settled for sulking in an alley, wrapped up in something blue and airy as she sorts disconsolately through the stock of spices and goods she picked up at market.

Until there's an earth-shattering kaboom and guns start going off.

Itana looks up and blinks twice. She had no idea this was coming. The tension, sure - but /now/ of all times?

A police officer goes down not far from the alley mouth. One of the extremists darts into the perceived shelter and squeezes off a few shots. Then someone taps him on the shoulder.

He has just enough time to turn before Itana drives the point of her knee right into the spot at the apex of his thighs.

There is a high-pitched squeal that trails off into a meaty thud. A few seconds later, Itana rolls out of the alley. She's draped in an open blue-and-white kaftan over her usual abbreviated garment. In lieu of her bow, she's got an AKM in hand.

    Ever since the incident in the Shoshone forest, Castiel has taken to wandering... Going wherever she felt her aid was needed the most. It just so happens that Al-Mazrah is the direction she felt the pull towards.
    What she did not expect was a full on terrorist attack.
    In fact that had been the last thing she was expecting, in fact was to come across that of all things, as the small blonde girl watches the police stop the van and in the next instant it goes off with the sound and storm of explosives.
    For a moment she looks on stunned and bewildered. She is no stranger to conflict and violence, but conflict and violence are not her personal solutions, and as such the small blonde is rendered shell-shocked for a beat, before she rallies and spies--
    Of all people coming out of the alley with a gun...
    "Ah..."
    Castiel breaks into a sprint, baseball sliding under gunfire and tumbling to roll to a stop just at Itana's side to lay a hand on her friend.
    " 'No weapon forged against you shall prosper, and every tongue which rises against you in judgement you shall condemn' " She utters hurriedly, a sensation of warmth rushing from her touch to Itana's body as she lays a protective ward upon the nomad to protect her from gunfire.
    Huff.
    "Funny running into you here, hello, Itana."

    The terrorists go from high on their zeal to very confused very fast. Stelle grabbing one of the goons leaves the others screaming as they open fire on her, dumping magazines to little effect beyond ruining Stelle's outfit. They start to run like hell, practically target practice for Ghost as he begins putting .300 BLK rounds in the heads of those Stelle hasn't already clobbered with one of thier own.

    "El-Tee? Uhh...I think we got ourselves some backup." Soap says in confusion while reloading. "They any of ours?"

    Ghost is more focused on dropping tangos than he is on the new arrivals, at least until he notices a scantily clad woman with an AK and a girl following her doing some kind of magic stuff.

    "...fucking hell." Ghost mutters. "Watcher 1-1, Bravo 0-7, we just got some support. Anyone you know?"

    Laswell, watching the scene from a drone, is at a loss for words for once. "I'm working on it. Probably off-worlders."

    "Like that's just a thing now." Soap mutters while slapping the bolt-catch on his MK18.

    A rather sizable goon in heavy armor toting a PKM storms between cars before focusing fire on Itana, shooting from the hip with a deafening roar. Bullets stop in place upon impact on Castiel's wards, while some of the gunner's friends begin to focus on Castiel herself.

Itana is just in time to realize that Castiel, like Boy George, will Tumble 4 U. The angel pops up with a spell, and the archer blinks once before flashing a rough but genuine smile. "Likewise... but it's not unwelcome." She sweeps forward and immediately places herself between Castiel and the worst of the fighting.

The smile soon falls away from her face. "Keep close and stay behind cover," she urges the tiny angel. She's already gesturing with a sweep of her arm to usher Castiel behind a damaged car. By the time she gets there, someone's already opening fire on her. A few bullets hit the ward and ping off of her before Itana can duck into the shadow of the burning Lada.

She grimaces and looks down at the gun. "I should have brought my bow," she mutters before something occurs to her. It's not HER all of them are shooting at.

"Stay low," she urges Castiel before throwing herself out from behind the car and rolling across the ground. Coming up on one knee, she levels the AKM and starts firing. She doesn't put it on full auto. She doesn't need to.

She takes three shots. They're aimed at the burly gunner's friends, trying to take the heat off of Castiel's first. One bullet per shooter, aimed with the startling precision of someone who's used to only shooting one projectile at a time and shooting them to kill.

    Stelle grumbles, and hammer-throws the thug once his buddies are either headshot or out of the fight fleeing for their lives.

    She then spots the heavy and with a frown, a twitch of her lips into a thin, barely contained rage-frown, she summons her spaceball bat and gathers her legs. The road cracks as she leaps forward, trailing blue-white light from her bat as she brings it overhead to try and drop the guy with the PKM.

    Her voice resonates across the battlefield. "RULES. ARE MADE. TO BE BROKEN!"

>> GAME >> Stelle spends an Edge for: Using her Ult

    Castiel is no stranger to the baseball slide, either. But that is neither here nor there as she hunkers down behind Itana. Her protective ward should render most small arms fire against the woman a moot point.
    Nodding hurriedly, Castiel takes refuge behind the car Itana directs her to, hunkering down and covering her ears, flinching slightly from each loud and thunderous report of gunfire as she waits out the storm that pelts the car aimed at her.
    "Ah..."
    There's a brief moment of hesitation and pause, before she peeks out. Itana is already under the protective cover of one of her wards... But there are others in need. She eyes Stelle- familiar from the Shoshone forest. Then her eyes fine Soap and Ghost.
    " 'He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge...' "
    Stelle, Ghost, and Soap will soon feel that warmth flowing through them as Castiel lays down more protective wards from her hiding space.

>> GAME >> Castiel spends an Edge for: I Cast Bless At 2nd Level.

    This has been a -night- for firsts that's for sure. The burly gunner's machine gun jams as Stelle rushes in furiously with that spaceball bat. With a blow to shatter the heavens, Stelle knocks him off his feet and sends his prone body skidding across the road, knocking his helmet off and sending it flying.

    Meanwhile Itana helps with mopping up hostiles. The cops are busy getting civilians and their wounded out of the fray, while Ghost and Soap do their jobs. It takes a few direct hits for them to notice that Castiel did a thing that's blessed them, as bullets seem to just stop short of actually hitting them. "On the right, Ghost!"

    "Yeah, I see 'im." A straggler gets clapped in the dome and slumps against a car, leaving behind a bloody smear. Stepping over his body is an RPG crew of sorts, the guy with the launcher taking aim directly at Itana now while his friends provide covering fire, desperately trying to down these weird foreigners.

    Stelle's bat fades back to being just metal, with glowy circuit-patterns on it. She pants for a moment as she takes stock of what's going on... cops are doing damage control, the two soldiers are laying down fire... and that thing doesn't look like a fun toy for kids.

    Golden eyes lock onto the RPG trooper... she can't pull off another leaping strike that that so soon, running normally won't get her into range in time and the others are distracted.

    Instead, she runs perpendicular to the aiming direction, and just as the rocket launches, she skids into its path with arms crossed in front of her face.

    Castiel's ward is going to be tested to its limit, and the durability bestowed by the Path of Destruction will also be tried in flames.

That is an explode-gun.

Itana takes aim and squeezes off a shot - but the AKM serves up a hollow click. She'd picked one up with very little left in the mag. She widens her eyes... and the launcher-man opens fire.

There is a thunderclap of explosion and a plume of fire. Its focal point is Stelle's face. Itana stares at the girl's back, momentarily struck dumb by the sheer ovaries on this person.

Her attention is averted by a loud 'WARK' and a thud. Looking sharply towards the sound, she sucks in a breath at the sight of a saddled chocobo tromping swiftly through the fight, trampling a terrorist on the way. "Here!" she calls, darting over and shouldering out of her kaftan as she leaps and grabs the object hanging from the saddlebow.

It's her bow, and her quiver with it. She ends up tumbling past her steed, coming up on one knee and throwing her quiver into place at her belt before notching an arrow. With a barked word, she unloads a single shot.

There's another boom - but this time, it's the air shattering as the sound barrier collapses around Itana's arrow. The shot booms towards the rocket crew, trying to smash through the projectile-slinger.

    That. That sure is an explode-gun.
    And while Itana tends to the shooter, trusty chocobo bringing the archer her bow, Castiel's eyes shoot wide open.
    "Stelle!" She blurts without thinking, leaping and sliding over the hood of the wrecked car she's hunkered behind to start sprinting toward the trailblazer after the explosion. Again she baseball slides to Stelle's side to start checking Stelle to... You know, make sure she's still alive after that, and begin to heal her with everything she has.

    The SAS operatives duck behind cover as an RPG is pulled out, just for Stelle to face-tank it directly. "Steamin' Jesus!" Soap exclaims as Itana's arrow seems to explode the rocket crew, and the scene is more or less finished.

    Soap is quick to rush over to where Stelle lands, taking a knee near her. "Medic! Someone get medics over here, she's down!"

    Soap leans down to check Stelle's vitals, looing up at Castiel. She seems like a healer type, yeah? "Can ye fix her?"

    Ghost approaches more slowly, securing the perimeter before approaching Stelle's prone body. "Negative contacts, we got 'em, Johnny. They blew the charges before they could hit their objective."

    "Aye, well, no matter what happens people died." Soap says bitterly.

    "That's the job, Johnny; You minimize collateral."

The shock of the arrow leaves a blast of air blooming back across Itana. Her draperies and hair billow out behind her dramatically before slowly settling, joined by a cloud of dust, debris and gunsmoke as the worst of the fray settles.

With a quick shake of her head, the archer regains her focus. Her first thought is to check on Castiel, but finding the little angel alive and well, Itana joins her in tending to Stelle. She rests a hand on Castiel's shoulder and squeezes as if to steady her a little.

    /Perhaps I can protect you too./

The tactical men, she's less familiar with. After checking Stelle over a moment, she lifts her eyes to Ghost with a low chuff of breath.

"Who were these men, exactly? I had heard something about... discontent. To take it out on the innocent...."

    Stelle, for her part, looks pretty rough. She didn't quite get her stance before taking the rocket; leading to her landing flat on her back. Castiel and Soap come to her side. Her arms are scorched, her outfit is tattered but she's... not bleeding? Whatever this chick is made from it's pretty damn tough.

    Castiel looms over her, pumping healing power into the Trailblazer's body. Golden eyes flutter open and a soft groan rattles out of the grey-haired Nameless. "... That was a spicy meatball." she quips, then shifts her glance to Soap. "Keep it down wouldya, m'tryin' to sleep."

    Sense of humour's intact at least.

    Thankfully... Stelle is alive. This does not stop Castiel from fussing as she pours her healing light and touch into the Trailblazer.
    "I have her..." She replies to Soap, tucking an errant lock of hair behind an ear as she breathes a sigh of relief.
    Though she shoots Stelle a surly look.
    "You stop speaking. That was utterly reckless." She chastises briefly before huffing.
    But I am thankful nonetheless.

    "Al-Qatala. Thought we'd cut the head off this snake months ago." Soap answers ruefully. "They've been gettin' bolder. New leadership took ahold, looks like." THe Scot says as he snaps fingers in front of Stelle. "You alive, lass? 's good. You're a tough one, takin' a rocket like it's nothin'. You look like the last sock in the drawer."

    Ghost meanwhile seems to studiously scan over Itana and Castiel for a moment. "You're a long ways from home, aren't ya?" He says, piercing eyes staring at the visitors. "Clearly you're competent. We'll be in touch. Might want to make yourselves scarce before people ask too many questions."

Itana frowns and looks out at the carnage as Ghost names the al-Qatala. "They call themselves 'the Killers?' Isn't that a little on the nose?"

Itana is not good at books, but she is good at communicating with nomads. Whatever she speaks is similar enough that she didn't have much trouble picking up Arabic.

With a look back, she rests a hand on Castiel's shoulder again and squeezes. "He's right," she encourages the angel. "In cities like this, the law enforcement is often corrupt. We don't want to be here when they start asking questions." Not the least because she's a weird lady named Itana el-Zayl who just had a gun in her hand five minutes ago and she's half-convinced someone will try to profile her.

    Stelle pouts at Castiel, looking much better already. "March's gonna kill me." she grouses, gently pushing Soap's hand away as she sits up. "Name's Stelle, from the Astral Express." she goes for a pocket that's not there anymore, then huffs. "I'd give you my card, but they got exploded."

    She stands once Castiel's done, and nods. "Had enough run-ins with local law enforcement for one lifetime."

    "Mm." Ghost almost chuckles there. "They know what they're about."

    He sees one last unmarked car approach, and claps Soap on the shoulder. "We'll be in touch. Johnny, let's get goin'." The Scot does brush some soot off himself and he winks at Stelle. "Heal up, lass. Get the feelin' we'll be needin' ya again. And you-" He points to Itana, "You sure you didn't come from Urzikstan? Farah'd love you."

"I come from the Damcyan deserts," Itana answers with a blink. "I don't know where Urzikstan is. But Itana el-Zayl is my name."

She proceeds to collect her bow and sets about herding her angel, presumably ready to flee before the cops show up.