13896/Discordants: The Finale Part Deux!

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Discordants: The Finale Part Deux!
Date of Scene: 24 March 2023
Location: Earth Starport
Synopsis: The attack on the starport is defeated by Malekith's death, though not without price.
Cast of Characters: Thor, Natasha Romanoff, Alura In-Ze, Sif, Jane Foster, Zatanna Zatara, Diana Prince, Kraglin Obfonteri, Yondu Udonta, Thea Queen, Nick Fury




Thor has posed:
    

    The skies were pushed aside, parted by the rush of energy that delivered the figures to Midgard with the surge of the Bifrost. The shockwaves rippling outward, parting the grey overcast sky as easily as it had shorn through the foredeck of the Juggernaut 'Mannaz'. That gigantic warship now smoking, tilting to the side as its gravitic engines struggle with the sudden shift of mass and release of mystical power. Its runic armaments and markings now flashing with bursts of released violet energy that casts its bright hue upon all things above and below. Debris trails off of its hull, curved hull pieces and twisting shards fall to the ground even as seemingly small armored figures drop from the sky in its wake.
    The crippled ship flared its weapons, beams lashing out without targets, slicing into the ground, kicking up furrows in the stone and metal of the Starport as well as instantly turning the water of the ocean into steam wherever it touched.
    In the center of the Clover where the area had been cleared amongst the debris and ruins, the coterie of Malekith some sixteen strong and surging with arcane power turned their efforts and attentions upon the encroachment of the world's heroes, their master and leader and king stood in the center with power positively surging from his form. The bodies of the Kursed that he had felled with his own foul magicks lay fallen in an almost perfect circle around him, having hit the ground instantly as their lives were snuffed by that simple incantation. Even as Sif struggled to maintain her focus as the very same spell had tormented her, the mystical tendril connecting her to the evil sorcerer severed by the efforts of Sorcerer Supreme, while the Young Queen pulled her out of the line of fire.
    Out on the water and in the skies the battle raged. Deployment missiles had struck the mystic shields raised by Zatanna, their warheads parting after embedding in that energy, somehow forcing a small path for themselves as they then spewed that nightmarish chaos of the small drones that washed across the deck of the USS Eisenhower. On the ship comms orders were roared, "Repel Boarders, all hands repel boarders!"
    In the clouds dagger-shaped vessels danced with the fighters of carrier battlegroup. Enough of the Svartalfar ships were still providing close cover to the larger ships as they fired off their armored pods to deploy more and more of the soldiers menacing the Starport. Power-Armored figures emerged from the water, their weapons barking fire and enchanted steel while several engines of war like the one that the Princess of Themyscira had slain began to menace the perimeter.
    It was all a flow of madness, and in it all as those four figures appeared in the rainbow beam of light from the Bifrost, the sound of one powerful voice was heard. A voice meant for the battlefield even as the man who wielded its power took three quick strides, rising into the air as if propelled up by the force and surge of electrical power that seems to dance over his powerful frame, uttering only one word.
    "Malekith!"
    Even as some of the coterie turn rushing forth to intercept while their master faces down the seeming Asgardian goddess with the hammer, they turn to oppose this one-eyed ragged warrior buoyed now on the power of lightning. Then recognition dawns in their last moments as the Breaker of Storms comes down upon them, exploding outward with a release of sizzling energy that seems to torment them in their last moments before they crumple to join their other fallen comrades.
    The Dark Mage growls as he unleashes the horrid specters of the three ancient dragons bound to his armor, letting them leap across the distance toward Jane as now there were no barriers between the heroes and their prey. For now it was battle and battle alone. The time for machinations, for manipulations, for plans within plans. That time is passed.
    Now it was a time for reckoning.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Second time went about as best she could hope for. Lessons from the previous have let her get over to work the weapons console slightly more effectively. There's a few flicks of switches as Natasha goes to slave all the weapons to one console and likewise the main thrusters. She sets the shields to what she generally presumes are 'double front' and goes to drift her way to the center of the enemy formation. What follows next is less tricky piloting and more trying to float it like something in a tub.

Heavy weapons slaved to face forwards, point defense and lighter weapons slaved to face to the sides, and the heavier weaponry along the base of the ship normally used for bombardment are aimed over at the ground where the line of reinforcements is coming in.

All Natasha has to do at this point is maintain the drift of hte heavy cruiser, or whatever class of ship it is forwards, into the center of the formation with all thsoe other ships, fighters, transports.. All of everything.

Then, it's time to kick teh engines to full power, and fire everything point blank. Accuracy of firing things from one console is rather pitiful. But fortunately being within a few hundred meters of every target in the midst of a huge melee with weapons designed to be accurate at thousands of kilometers makes that much less of an issue.

So Natasha goes to spool u pall the weapons, and moves to give a broadside in every direction. Heavy guns firing to whatever craft drift into the front. Broadisdes firing to the port and starboard. Rear turrets set to autofire as the point defense guns blast over at every small ship they can get an arc on, filling the space with the rapidly firing autocannons.

Then the lower guns of the ship normally used for bombardment go to arc down towards the oncoming group of reinforcements.. And she simply goes to let them fry. Dialing down the power to rather than leave a vaporized crater for kilometers around..

But, heavy guns firing into tightly packed formations hopefully makes for a massive slaughter.

Engines kicking forwards, hopefully her seized ship smashing through the enemy formation, ramming anything in th eway, the shields to double front letting it survive as every weapon continues to blaze. Hopefully the formation shattering like hammer given to glass.

Alura In-Ze has posed:
The front of the big bad ship was gone and Alura had destroyed its biggest nastiest weapon. But this thing was still flying, still active. It was time to make things more personal. She flew around to the front, rising up before the gaping hole and stepping on board the dark ship.

The klaxons of battle echo through its hallways and she is immediately met by a dark elf wearing strange armor and wielding an energised spear. The Amazons would be disappointed if they'd seen that elf land his blow, but even with its magical properties, the wards placed upon her by Zatanna protect her from its piercing damage.

She snaps the weapon in half and grabs the dark elf by the scruff of his armor and lifts him up. His kicks and punches are a distraction so she tosses him to the wall with a thud. Somewhere in this alien ship is an engine and it needs to go byebye.

Like a terrible force she strides in to the darkness of the ship and begins to knock the opposition out of the way. The bracer on her arm activates with a swipe of her hand and a holographic display appears. It sends out a ping through the ship, trying to map it out. "Show me where your heart is," she says softly to the darkness as yet more dark elves charge at her from adjoining corridors.

<< "Anyone have the fire power to punch another hole in this giant ship?" >> comes the voice of Superwoman over the comms. << "I'm locating its eng-" >> There's a thud sound as she knocks another dark elf to the walls << "Sorry about that - its engines now and perhaps together we can drop this thing once and for all." >>

Sif has posed:
Unaware of most of what is happening on her behalf, Sif has dropped further, her other knee hitting the ground heavily next to the first as she knelt there in this battle for her life. Taunts from Amora and Loki as a child talking about how magic always beats swords were heard somewhere laughing in her memory. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps it had always been destined she would lose to that powerful force she refused to consider for her life-path.

She saw the weapon blow coming in but then it was stopped as a shield blocked its descent. She saw the form of the young archer, Thea Queen. Sif felt that rise of emotion that this small Midgardian, a human with no powers, fought with such ferocity and was willing to give all to try and save a friend.

Sif tried to find her voice but a strangled cry escaped her instead. She brought up an arm, intending to put it to the back of the shield, to help with what little strength she had to keep Thea strong under the attack of the Kursed. But her arm felt so heavy. She only managed to put her hand on Thea's arm. A small squeeze of gratitude for her self-sacrifice. "I still fight. Though Valhalla calls," she whispered, knowing that they would meet again soon in that place. For there was no doubt that Thea had earned her place in those hallowed halls. And Sif, despite her words, was trying to stay in this world but things were going dark at the edges of her vision. The severing of the magic trying to rip out her soul had been cut by the Sorcerer Supreme's blade but there was a dark hole on what had already been drawn forth from her life.

Then the world was alight. She wondered if the rainbow bridge was leading her to Valhalla? That was odd. She had thought it would be a valkyrie to carry here there. But no, that light was not for her. The Bifrost. She looked toward the light even as the world was growing darker for her personally, pushing to focus. Four silhouettes against the light, one a familiar build. Then that voice and Sif felt her heart swell in the same instant the darkness stole her sight entirely. "Always late," were the last words she uttered as a smile appeared on her face. Then she was still and moved no more.

Jane Foster has posed:
Deaths of the Kursed sacrificed to Malekith's ego and his foul plans stain the back of Jane's mind, pooling darkness held temporarily at arm's reach by adrenaline and untold gifts.

What is the colour of hope if not a tumbling cascade of turquoise, amber, scarlet, and indigo? Jane recognizes that unmatched force almost immediately, her heart proverbially leaping into her throat when the Bifrost crashes down onto Midgard once more. The figure beyond the rainbow kindles a cry vibrating up from her chest to her throat, gathering force, spilling out in a ringing accolade.

"Thor!"

Fruitless searches spanning foreign worlds and strange skies collapse to a relative point no larger than a spark, the survivor's guilt transcended into a curious, soul-lightening relief. Thought hardly needs to be spent to send Mjolnir hurtling back to its rightful owner, a gift inscribed in a rather gentle toss. The uru hammer has a place to be, a responsibility passed back to the god in his wrath turning upon the dark elf responsible for so much loss and suffering.

Unlike good guys in the stories, she doesn't hang there clapping her hands or basking in the jaw-dropped surprise. Intent read off the hanging draconic spectres requires no telepathic gift to recognize.

Even in the face of awful danger yet, hope again blazes in the dark, and she dives sidelong to avoid the first of the treacherous wyrms striking for her. They may be devilishly fast, but she's no mouse to be pounced by an asp, hitting the ocean waves and tumbling against surf-shot resistance to elude their bite. Or the very worst of it, at any rate, not trusting to be impaled on an eldritch fang.

No Valkyrie comes for Sif. She's busy not re-dying herself. Though something so wracked by the energies of unlife ought to be very careful indeed.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Friendly fire boomerangs back on the Svartalfar ships guided by the mistress of enchantment's spell. Then, heaping insult to injury, Zatanna hurls deadly missiles crafted from wind and water, doubling the murderous assault.

Explosions ripple through the Dark Elf craft bent on hammering the carrier. Black debris rains into the ocean, polluting Namor's domain. But, better pollution in their precious ocean than the dominion of the Dark Elves over the earth.

The mistress of enchantment winces in deep psychic pain as each life blinks out of existence. Both murderous intent and action carve out bits of her soul. But there is no time to wallow.

The Swartalfar enchantments pierce the Eisenhower's shield, vomiting black-clad warriors unto the flight deck like so many vicious ants. Two thousand souls are at risk on the ship.

Zatanna pivots in the air, and streaks back to the carrier, muttering enchantments that become arcane grenades intent on breaking through their magical protection and killing them on the spot. Three grenades double and become six, aimed to detonate in the enemy's midst.

Diana Prince has posed:
Then:

The sun shone brightly on the island of Themyscira, casting dancing shadows through the leaves of the trees and bathing the training fields in a warm golden light. The local birds sang a cheerful melody, adding to the beauty of the day. A young Diana sat alone behind the training fields, wearing her battle training armor and nursing a bloodied nose. She sniffled, feeling defeated after another harsh sparring match.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching and looked up to see a tall blonde Amazon warrior. Bria sat down next to Diana and offered her soft spoken words of encouragement, telling her that losing is a natural part of training and that it's important to learn from her mistakes. She then offered Diana some bits of personal advice on how to improve her techniques with footwork, and anticipating her enemy's movements. Diana had listened attentively, and felt a sense of comfort by the effort that Bria was making with her, as she knew the blonde woman was one of the more respected fighters in this battle group that she's been training with.

"Thank you, Bria." Diana had said, her youthful features having brightened.  The Princess was still young, and though she had a seemingly endless wellspring of desire to learn like the rest of her sisters, she knew she was borderline a hinderance to their own training, which had started to set-root a feeling of insecurity within her spirit.

"You are welcome, Your Grace." Bria said back, offering a returned smile, and a side-armed embrace. "Now let us go get you cleaned up, before your mother finds you with a bloodied nose, and has us all sent to the mines."

Sharing a laugh, the two set off back toward the palace down a garden pathway...

Now:

Diana stares down at Captain Bria's lifeless face, blood streaked across the blonde woman's features.  Her right hand comes up to stroke across Bria's browline, her fingertips slipping shut Bria's eyes, with the Princess muttering a prayer to the Goddesses under her breath while the chaos of the fight ensues around them.

As the Dark Elves charge towards them, the Themysciran warriors quickly form a shield-wall, tightly interlocking their heavy shields. The air crackles with energy as the enemy unleashes a barrage of deadly fire upon the Amazon defenders. The intense heat causes the shields to glow brightly and the Themysciran women holding them to grit their teeth. Despite the searing pain in their hands and arms, they stand firm, bravely holding their ground and protecting the entrance to the Western Clover behind their unyielding shield-wall.

A blur of motion soars over head of the Amazon wall, a line of Kanga Battleroos flying through the air, with Diana mounted again on Jumpa, at their lead! The Dark Elves firing their cannons try to adjust, and aim upward to intercept the armored beasts before they can bear down upon them, but when their plasma fire yields upon the shielded maidens of Themyscira, the line of soldiers all shout, regain their footing, extend spear, after spear, from above their glowing-hot barriers, and begin to charge with thunderous footfalls upon the starport grounds!  With the line of Kanga dropping from the sky, the wall of shield-bearers bash in to the Dark Elven forces, a secondary cavalry line closing in now, this line mounted warrior women on armored horses!

Mixed in with the chaos, Diana shouts commands to her sisters, and the Amazons begin to push back! To push the choke point advance from their enemies back, to give them no ground!

Kraglin Obfonteri has posed:
They skip merrily through dimensions without a ship to cover their hides. Kraglin Obfonteri, First Mate of the Eclector, fights the wail welling up from deep inside. When they finally arrive down the long chaotic chute of rainbow light, it spits them into a scene of utter chaos. Kraglin's mouth opens in disbelief, and he dizzily yanks Yondu's arm.

"Cap'n... ah, crap. Cap'n?"

Too busy slingin' the Hadron Enforcer off his shoulder, the Ravager never finishes the question and aims for the nearest weird-faced monster running toward them, lighting the thing up repeatedly. Kraglin might not get what's happening but knows menace when he sees it. No need to hang around talkin' about it.

He's gonna have a talk with Steverog...Thor, if they get out of this alive.

Yondu Udonta has posed:
When Thor had suggested they would be helping him, Yondu hadn't hesitated. Certainly this was signing on for far more than one might think for the Ravagers but it was simply three of them. And each made their own choice on if they would support the man they had known as SteveRogers in this endeavor. All had agreed.

And thus in a torrent of light and sound, a trip like none that the good captain had ever experienced, they found themselves--not where they were. Seeing the insanity that was going on around them, he heard the yell from Thor and saw the man leaping into battle.

Both Yondu and Kraglin had been to the Starport before. But admittedly, there was no way to tell that's where they were in the midst of the battle raging on all sides. "Well. Shit."

He realized he had echoed his first mate's sentiments and looked to his pair of crew members. Then back to the insanity around them. "Look sorta like Terrans or Asgardians." Since they looked alike to Yondu. "Try not to kill those unless ya see SteveRogers do it first." It was automatic to use that name for him as they had known him by it for months. Thor was a new name to them. "Aim fer anythin' that looks like what he just hit."

And with that, he turned to join the battle, dodging a blow from an approaching Svartalf even as he pursed his lips and whistled. The Yaka Arrow at his hip rose into the air, glowing faintly. Then it fired for the center of the Dark Elf that had attacked him. Only to exit out the opposite side an instant later and the rising pitch of Yondu's whistle sent it out into the field of battle.

Thea Queen has posed:
"Not yet."

That's the little archer's response to Sif's claim of Valhalla calling Sif. Defying Sif, defying Death itself. Perhaps bolstered by the hand in her arm keeping her upright. Not that it helps with the blow that comes from the Kursed, she feeling more than seeing the shield shattering along with something in her arm giving in, numbness coursing through it at the impact.

She winces at the Kursed lifts it's large arm again for a final blow ..., to then be trampled down by a Kanga cavalry charge! Thea staggers back and only then does she notice the Thunderer's arrival, eyes wide, "Sif, look it's--" she is pointing but then notices her friend's unconscious body...

"Oh no, you don't.." She tells the unconscious Sif, reaching for her and starts to drag her out. Or trying to at least. What the heck is -that- weight?! "So it's not only your stubborness that is dense..." she comments, gritting her teeth and sloooowly dragging her, step by step....

All the way to the Amazon shield wall to get her to safety.

------

The bald woman stepping out of the portal alongside both Yondu, Kraglin and Thor looks surprised at what they find. This isn't exactly what the ship doctor had signed up for, nor was she thinking about being back on earth so soon. But sometimes you can't fight destiny. So it's with a sigh that she stands up straighter.

"Dark elves. The ones with the pointy ears, black armors..." she looks as Yondu spears a few with his Yaka Arrow. A sagely nod, "... Those.."

Thor has posed:
    Across the battlefield weapons fire surges from one of the Heavy Cruisers that seems to break out of formation, accelerating and not moving in line with its three brethren. It spouts fire amongst the lines of Svartalfar, brilliant indigo beams slicing from the blister turrets and turning metal and magic fighting souls into twisted wreckage and broken bodies. Some of the other ships start to bank clear, turning to the side and one of the ships returns fire, sending several tendrils of beams into the ship that had been commandeered by the Black Widow.
    On the bridge one of the consoles explodes into flames as a wailing banshee-like creature escapes its bonds, screaming as it rushes into the aether between worlds. The end result, however, is that some of the functions on the ship begin to suffer as Natasha's ship takes fire. But it gives more than it receives by an order of magnitude.
    In the depths of the Dreadnought Mannaz the alarms flare crimson throughout the ship. Various icons flicker upon data displays that look like strange shapes, but to those with the gift of All-Speak would translate into warnings of 'Catastrophic Damage' and 'Intruder Alert'. Armored figures rush to repel boarders... though in this case it is but the one. But that one is more than enough as many a dark elf meet their fate at the hands of the Kryptonian. Yet her senses serve her well as she likely can tell that one direction... has more resistance than the others, and likely that path will lead to the most vital sections of the ship.
    At times when she advances she takes fire from the corridors, from side walk ways. Even at one point slats in the roof open as a squad of warriors fire down with their enchanted weapons from what look like... murder holes. Yet they are unable to stay her inexorable advance.
    Even as Sif espies the falling figure, he sees her. Landing heavily before Thea and Sif, the Thunderer turns and shouts loud enough. "Bide, my friends!" The grand hammer Stormbreaker spins to slash aside a spear that had been meant for the fallen. He breaks into a run, charging into one of the coterie and slamming his shoulder into the form of the armored sorcerer, sending him flying backward. When out of nowhere...
    /Whom!/
    And suddenly Mjolnir is in his hand. He laughs, even as the world explodes around him, even as the battle rages. The Thunderer sees her, the woman who wielded the mystic hammer. That one-eyed man's iris widens as he calls out, "Jane?" He sends Mjolnir almost negligently into the chest of another sorcerer, then spins the hammer around. "You've done something with your hair!"
    And then he is leaping forward, closing the distance with Malekith. "Loathsome, monarch. Shall we finish what we started!?" He spins in mid-air and sends Stormbreaker flying toward the Svartalfar leader, even as he twists...
    And Mjolnir flies toward Jane, seeking to return to her grasp while Thor crashes _downward_ slamming just as the axe returns to his hand, crashing it into the powerful armored gauntlet of Malekith.
    On the Eisenhower marines have taken positions behind burning aircraft and spilled equipment boxes. Fire is given back and forth between Svartalfar warriors and drones. Automatic weapons fire, explosives ignite. Then in sweeps Zatanna like the mythical phoenix itself, flames bursting into life around her, setting to flame so many of the small robotic monstrosities and armored forms. Like a carbet of black distorted limbs, the drones begin to eat into the hull of the ship. Yet the defenders seem to be winning for now.
    Yet when Zatanna alights upon the ground a shimmer in the air might catch her eye for a brief moment. Just a single sliver of light at the corner and then the wicked curve of a blade. As Ulris T'Saalan, high Assassin of the Svartalfar seeks to take her life.
    His blade slashes in...
    Only for the POP-POP-POP of rapid gunfire to be heard as several rounds splash into the assassin's shield, causing him to raise his arm and turn...
    Facing the approach of Captain Higgins as he holds hi

Thor has posed:
    
    Facing the approach of Captain Higgins as he holds his service M1911 forward and finishes firing the clip into the figure. Face bloodstained, sweat slick, and with a scowl on his face he rises up from behind cover as he aims at Zatanna's attacker and growls, "Get the hell off my ship!"
    Across the waves the break out from the defensive pocket becomes a true offensive when the Amazons gather their rage and form behind Diana. The Kangas leaping forth with Jumpa at the fore, their weapons already stained with the ichor of the fallen rising and chopping down over and over, becoming more grime encrusted with each passing moment. Only a few of the warriors are able to endure, to stabilize the Dark Elf position, but then begin to give way as the Amazons prove indomitable.
    The Ravagers have the luck to be in a position behind Thor's charge, and suddenly as the Amazons rush forth they have complete support, so much so that they can lay fire freely, their alien weapons burning light across the distance, and Yondu's arrow slicing through faces and necks and torsos. And as the women warriors charge, the Ravagers see the young archer and the Asgardian she pulls to safety. All while the mayhem continues.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
All she really has to do is keep the ship going forwards and all weapons firing as long as she can. The point of this is to cause as much damage as possible in the midst of things and the melee and disorient the air support and bombardment for as long as possible. The ship is big, heavily armored, and has momentum. It's going to go down, but not without taking significant damage first. The damage so far is easy to compensate for and is quick to let Natasha rediret. Now? Now she just goes to aim the cruiser towards the command ship. She heard something on.. Hole?

She can make it. She moves to use one hand further to arm what she presumes are the scuttling charges for the ship based on the runs, just in case they're needed. The ship goes forwarsd at best possible speed, the weapons firing as fast as they can cycle. She's not particularly worried when it comes to their maintenance after all. As they detonate under fire, bits of the deck and the ship melt off, are blown off, as controls go to become not responsive..

The assassin with the taped up ribs merely goes to do her duty. And her duty comes with death and destruction.

Weapons firing at any target in range, the heayv forward batteries moving to target the capital ship as the lesser weapons fire at everything else..

And teh ship goes towards the Dreadnaught. It's not going to remotely impact and the weapons will do only negligible damage to it..

But, it's still one massive distraction as she moves to simply setup for a ram with the scuttling chrges armed as it's likely to be shot down or just bounce off the hull!

Alura In-Ze has posed:
No more bright and shiny solar flares from missiles and portable science holes. Now Alura's on her own in this dark ship. The concentration of soldiers is increasing and so is the lethality of their response. Her clothing in tatters already - her cloak she designed specificially for defense but even it has been torn to in to flapping rags. She tries to hide behind it when the heavier weapons are deployed against her but it gives her no cover.

The battering from all sides leaves her ears ringing and her heart racing. She has not had the benefit of decades learning how to fight back as a super person - only what the amazons taught her. And what they taught her involved spears, swords, and shields.

The magical markings upon her body are glowing and she grabs the magical shield from her back and spins around. The darkness weapons energy absorbed in to it somehow. She flies up and begins to toss their line of soldiers in to each other. A blur that they cannot track fast enough. She's being merciful because to sink to their level of killing would be to betray herself, the house of El, and all of Earth's potential future.

She looks back to the makeshift holographic map and motions on it to scan ahead. "What in the world is that..." she says as she sees even larger bulkier forces ahead of her. She grits her teeth and marches on. An unstoppable force invading their dark capitol ship.

Jane Foster has posed:
The sheet of blonde hair and the statuesque physique splashed by sea give Jane a look of a siren risen from the deeps, Amphitrite or one of Heimdall's nine mythical mothers come to unleash their tidal wrath upon the Svartalfjar emerging from their stygian realm. The sky echoes in the concussive blasts of the dagger-ships exchanging fire with mortal pilots from the naval forces on the wing.

"I like what you've done. An outstanding travelling warrior look!" Easy for her banter back as she spreads her hands to skate upward away from the tenebrous flayed dragon head lashing out, snatching her ragged edge of her cape. Meting out a fierce bite throws her off-balance long enough to require recorrection, the Asgardian armour flashing brightly beneath the luminous violet bombardments exchanged above and below.

She rips the fabric free from the colossal maw, spinning to the side and slamming her fist into what presumably must be some kind of body. Should contact simply be like punching air, that's one lesson learned and another risk not to be taken so callously when they have human soldiers, heroes, and mystics fighting for their lives across sea, deck, and sky.

Mjolnir /returning/ from Thor comes as more of a shock than any tangible or intangible undead dragonhide. She clasps the hammer in both hands. "Go back to Hel where you belong, wyrm!" The next swing arcs furiously upward and then in a starburst of diagonal strokes one after the other to put Malekith's hideous throne-familiar on the back coil. "Send my finest regards to Modgud, such as she misses Captain Rogers!"

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
The black cape settles around the sorceress as one knee and hand touch the deck. Spells spill from her as she frantically tries to shore up the carrier's sub-decks.

".skced rewol eht no dleihS raluceloM (Molecular shield on the lower decks.)
On the last syllable, a glint of light turns her head and she throws up a hand, ".traeh kcalb sih evlosed ,elissim gnicreiP (Piercing missile desolve his black heart.)

Rushing toward death to save his crew and ship, fits the man. Regret stabs Zatanna. She cries aloud as she tries to shield him from the Svartalf's attack. Certain she is too late, Zatanna conjures her strongest shield around the man.

Diana Prince has posed:
Mounted atop her Kanga, Diana pauses in her forward charge to look across the battlefield to see Thor, and friends. She draws in a breath, then releases it, her long hair held down by her Golden Eagle helm flowing over her shoulders as her eyes now scan the horizon of the Atlantic Starport...

This place... it was her everything for the past several years, all of her effort to help mankind push in to the stars, and it was being put to the edge of survival, by these invading foes...

The Amazon shield-wall separates a space opening for Thea to haul Sif toward them, and two large women rush out to aid Thea in her endeavor of getting Sif back to safety, making it considerably easier on the archer Queen.

A small group of Dark Elves make a dash toward Diana, as her attention was directed elsewhere, only to get Jumpa's reaction to their attempt to get even remotely close to his rider. The massive Battleroo leaps in to the air, and sends its armored feet up, and forward, delivering powerful kicks to their central sternums. The Dark Elves are thusly sent tumbling, head over heels toward the edge of the Starport railing, ultimately dumping them down in to the drink far below.

When Jumpa lands again, Diana grips the leather reigns and is off once more, with a command shouted to her faithful steed!

The pair rush off to support the horse-mounted Amazons pushing back to the north to cut off a attempt to cull the shield-wall in a less organized position!

Kraglin Obfonteri has posed:
"Got it, Cap'n. Easy," he yells back, keeping up a continuous barrage of fire, "don't kill the kinda normal ones."

Leave it to the know-it-all doctor to know what the monsters are. No matter what they are called, they don't look friendly, and he is not goin' try and make nice. Heavy gun poised on his hip, Kraglin stays at his Cap'n's side while keepin' an eye on the Doc and nails another of the Swartle things.

Yondu Udonta has posed:
As the Ravagers work their way forward, Yondu continued to guide his arrow with the strong whistle. Sometimes he would need to dodge a shot or attack and the whistle would pause or dip, causing the arrow to do a few erratic movements. but as soon as Yondu was back on the offense it steadied and continued the deadly rampage among the enemy.

Though there was one problem with using a whistle to control a weapon. Talking was out of the question. So with a flourish of sound, the arrow flew to Yondu's hand so he could catch it midair and glance to their good ship's doctor. "Ya know these? Got any info ya can share?" Though the sound of something drew his eye up and there was a moment of envy on his face. Seeing the battle in the sky above from the enemy ships and the aircraft from the carrier. Course, again, he didn't know which was which but the dagger shaped ones seemed to maybe be the bad guys. "Damn. Wish we had an M-Ship or three with us." Since they did not have their ship along at all on this trip.

And then the whistle pierced the air again as he let the arrow fly toward another attacker.

Nick Fury has posed:
Throughout the tumult, perhaps it was noticed, perhaps it wasn't, but there was one particular asset that is missing from the battle. It's easily forgiven if it wasn't noticed, as it does have particular qualities that aid in that venture.

From up high in the sky, there is an addition to the battle that seemingly comes from nowhere, and perhaps everywhere. New resources into the mix flew the 10,000 or something like that. While not 10,000, it is a sizeable force, and more importantly, a fresh force that appears from above, diving down with their gunfire slicing through the sky, looking for their targets. Some have locks, others are strafing with the care and precision that heralds a well trained and experienced crew.

Should one look up, just coming through a cloud in the shimmering state of uncloaking is the massive SHIELD helicarrier, the Indomitable.

Not a sound comes from her coms however; not yet. Whomever is in command there is letting the Quins make the initial greeting, both in lead and with the pilot's secret code of wing positioning. Nothing comes from their coms either, just in case they're tapped by the dark elves. The grace and ability in which they maneuver tells the story that they've been practicing. A lot.

Thea Queen has posed:
Thea is exhausted by the time she finishes dragging Sif across the battlefield, one arm screaming at her with the effort while the other just feels number. She's grateful to the two amazons that drag her back behind the shield wall and collapses on the ground next to Sif, breathing hard and fast.

Screams and clashes of battle are all around her but she needs a breather or two right now so she just lies there on the ground. "I am still alive.." more surprise than anything...

A voice on comms is heard, Felicity again. <<Thank God! Didn't hear you for a while. I was just looking at some abnormal readings and ..., what's going on?>>, she answering, "Oh, reinforcements arrived..."

------

The know-it-all Doc looks at Kraglin, telling him, "It's Svartalfar, if you need to know.." and yes, she says 'Svartalfar' with the kind of accent that puts that Leviosa girl to shame.

One of the dark elves gets dangerously close to the Good Doctor and she looks at him with a frown, a look of concentration. Thankfully the creature is skewered by the Yatu Arrow before skewering Luna, "Mmm, this was harder than expected." The doctor seems surprised that the creature actually got so close to her but looks at Yondu, "Not much info. Enemies to the Asgardians, that's Stever--" she stops herself, "Thor over there. They are conquerors, so this seems to be an attempt at conquering Earth. One good thing, their ships should be as easy to fly as what we got back in space."

Awww, she said 'we', like she belonged with the Ravagers.

Thor has posed:
    One of the dagger-like Heavy Cruisers continues to twist out of formation, its fire seemingly at random and yet still finding its targets with the steady repeated impacts of bright energy weapons. Its slow bank turns it smoothly, smoooothly around until it is in a direct line with the Mannaz Dreadnought, its weapons firing now scoring palpable hits upon the superstructure of the vessel even as the flagship tries to maintain itself. Several of its heavier turrets turn to lock into place, sending some fire back at the one that Widow has under her control. Another console explodes with a cascade of sparks.
    Inside the ship, Alura will suddenly hear a klaxon alarm sound and an abrupt /jolt/ to the side as the ship's maneuvering thrusters fire as evasive action is attempted. The defenders give her a moment of respite as several of them turn their heads to each other. Something seems to have given way, as abruptly their posts are abandoned, figures starting to rush away from the unstoppable Kryptonian surging through the ship. Which is when she likely will see the final double door chamber that reveals the thrumming engine department.
    Outside the dreadnought the heavy cruiser /SLAMS/ into the side of the command ship, explosions already rippling through the hull, bursting like a series of popcorn kernels blasting outward. The two ships crash to the side, lurching down as the heavy cruiser sliiiiiides slowly off the side of the larger ship which seems horribly crippled.
    Yet within the depths of the ship, Alura's eyes are the only ones that see the sudden critical surging of the dual power plants that power the juggernaut ship. Crackles and sparks begin to flare and the pulse of the engines in that engineering section start to surge faster and faster, clearly building toward some form of critical mass.
    Meanwhile down in the middle of the clover, Malekith's coterie of sorcerers find themselves beset by the rush of the two Asgardians. Eldritch enchantments are hurled and slice across the distance toward Thor, their dark energy reaching out to grasp at the Asgardian, trying to draw upon the life force and bind it to the site of the ritual only to find for some reason the grasp on those threads of existence to have no purchase. A crack of the silver hammer causes the spells to be broken even as Thor slams Stormbreaker through the raised guard of one of those warriors, smashing him to the ground.
    "I killed you once, what matters to do it again?" Malekith snarls, his gauntlets twisting into a claw-like shape as he reaches out, several blasts of energy firing and /those/ seeming to grasp and tear into the Asgardian prince's body, lifting him up off the ground like a brutal claw rising from the earth. He winces, and angrily throws Stormbreaker as he shouts in pain... only for the axe to slice past Malekith, missing him entirely. Though Thor reaches out with his other hand.
    Upon the Eisenhower, the assassin in his faceless mask turns, flipping his blade around into a reverse grip. Behind him the drones continue to eat into the structure of the carrier while larger ones spout fire at nearby marines though in fewer numbers now. He scoffs, a reverberating metallic sound enhanced by the voice mask of the helmet. He almost negligently flicks a blade in Higgins' direction then turns to rush at Zatanna. In the same instant that the knife is thrown, Higgins _heaves_ his sidearm at the elf. The blade caroms off the shield the sorceress conjured for the captain as the assassin _leaps_. Yet that single moment... might be enough to buy Zatanna the time she needs.
    Behind the battling Asgardians and Malekith, Diana fights to keep that corridor open, her comrades in arms locking those shields in place and turning away the counter-attacks by those Svartalfar. Several of the armored elves try to get their gun emplacements back online, only to have their attempts confounded by the rush of large kangaroos smashing into their lines. They maintain long enough for Thea to draw Sif into cover as the Wakandan warriors bring up to

Thor has posed:
    They maintain long enough for Thea to draw Sif into cover as the Wakandan warriors bring up to reinforce the line established by the Themyscirans.
    Kraglin, Yondu, and Luna create a strong pocket of firepower and curiously enough don't draw as much return fire. At times there's an errant round or sharp object sent their way, but definitely not as much though they have a good position with cover around them. The arrow extracts its blood price from the Svartalfar as it flicks through the air, striking into one figure after another, serving to fell troublespots as they come up, and Kraglin's blaster causes targets he engages to blast backwards and upwards like sudden puffs of dust.
    Above, that brilliant silhouette of the Helicarrier appears, silver against the overcast clouds. The Quinjets add their might to the aerial battle, sweeping in cleanly to take down several of the corvettes that had been menacing the USS Eisenhower. Explosions are seen across the skyline as the new SHIELD ordinance lands hard amongst the Svartalfar equipment, the gravitic tips and singularity warheads playing havoc with their enemies.
    

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Time to go. The impact goes off, and then as soon as the two ships are locked together as far as they can, and the cruiser starts to slide off the Dreadnaught.. Natasha goes to cleanly press the button that she's had set which detonates the scuttling charges. THe charges, designed to ensure the ship can't be seized by enemy boarding action, detonates all over teh ship in critical eras, moving to break it into chunks!

Explosives detonating along the engine core, power conduits, weapons arrays.. And most critically, along the armories and munitions bays. IT's far enough from the center of the fighting that anything caught over in the blast radius will be hostile, or friendslies that can take it.

And even as she detonates the primed charges, Natasha goes to hurl a small micro-explosive along the front viewport. It explodes,s hattering the already weakened armor and cracks it like an egg. Then she's charging out and moving to jump along the detonating side of the ship as shockwaves would propel her. She's twisting, and turning.. And launching over the side in freefall as the explosions would buffet her along as she would head towards the ground!

Alura In-Ze has posed:
Alura tumbles to the side as the ship is struck. The wall braces her impact leaving a dent, a common theme for this gigantic ship today. She rights herself as the dark elves seem to be abandoning ship and leaving her be. Striding in to engineering she looks at the colossal engine and that's when the two ships collide.

Everything slows down for her as she watches the energy lance about wildly, the cascade overflow growing faster than her eyes can move. Even at super speed she can feel the radiation building and the disaster oncoming. There's only one way through this - up.

Alura crashes through the supports and puts her back underneath the engine. With a heave she exerts herself like never before, feeling something inside her snapping and freeing a flow of power she never knew she had.

She needs it too, because this engine is not only heavy from its construction, but from the sheer amount of energy held within it. Physics be like that. Overcoming its momentum and forcing it up has her crying out to the gods themselves. Her hands push up as her legs push down and her super strength bends and groans the super structure of the ships interior.

With pained resistence the supports holding the engine in place yield and she begins to rise with it. Floors above buckle and twist as she ruptures through them. Inching her way up until the massive holes created by the bifrost, by Natasha's stolen ship, by the battering of the Indomitable, yield a way for her to burst forth from the giant dark elven ship.

The glowing engine and what seems like a small doll of a woman beneath it rocket up through the sky. Energy lances off of it like lightning in vibrant colors human eyes were not meant to witness. Superwoman pushes the core up up and away before its overload kills them all.

<< "If this is the end..." >> Breathily she calls over the comms as it crackles from the energy and from distance as she rises up through the atmosphere << "Please tell my daughter how proud I am of her.. and to never give up Hope." >>

Jane Foster has posed:
Lightning forms a white-hot fretwork every time the charged hammer collides with the serpentine monster lurching so much taller than Jane is, even in that deified aspect. Still she gives no purchase, crashing to the ground for a low swipe that opens another gash through the eldritch body animated by the foulest of magics akin to those that struck Lady Sif.

Pressed by the second and third heads rearing back, she kicks off her back foot, driven into the air. Mjolnir rotates on its perilous orbits while her height grants a brief vantage over the ring of sorcerers enclosing Malekith and the venomous spells pouring down as fast as they can chant or gesture. Yet before she can inflict another blow, the three enormous undead wyrms convulse, their necks no longer sufficient to support the ethereal weights of their snapping maws and glasy eyes. Snapping back a cry of no, the woman twists to avoid being caught under the wyrm crashing from its lofty height to a much lower vantage. Even enervated, it still bites and the tripled heads snap, forcing her into a defensive roll that should leave her bleeding. It doesn't.

The bulk of their body wreathing the particolored sorcerer shrieking and spitting his vengeance collapses inward a great deal like the Mannaz sheds its immensity, detritus sucked in around a ghastly greenish-grey vortex that imbues Malekith's limbs.

Ominous chips of bone and scale glitter against the mad elf, and the last roar from the spell rattles the sky. Pity the naval officers monitoring any recording devices, their skulls shaken by the deepest reverberations when the undead dragons rejoin their masters.

<<This is not your end. Have faith, sky-sister. We are with you.>> Jane's voice rings over the coms if they remain intact, and she sweeps the hammer down on the last of its trajectory, pulling short at the last moment to cut the arc low and long. Without waiting to see Mjolnir's sparkling path, she charges to the side to catch the Hail Mary pass --

--and Stormbreaker collides with her gloved palms, its momentum twinned with her own to bring her sliding through the congregation of sorcerers and fallen Kursed. Rearing back, the mighty artefact whistles its warsong when she swings it in a full arc at Malekith's exposed side. "Then your turn to try death!"

Foster. Forester. And to think, someone gave her an axe to go after the big bad elf.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Zatanna throws a look of pure relief at Captain Higgins when her shield holds, and his gun clatters to the deck. Already, she feels her protective magic crumbling under the murderous spells she has conjured.

A tide of darkness, alluring in its power calls to the homo magi. Laughter wells from her as the blade-wielding Elf staggers, one hand involuntarily clutching his chest. She throws another magic missile, her mouth contorted into a smile as his hand loosens the blade and his knees collapse under him.

Below her, the decks creak under the onslaught of the elven technology. Hands outspread, palms down she rises into the air, spells coating the deck, penetrating steel and alloy to stop the magic eating at them.

The ocean air carries a drift of magic from the Starport and she gazes at it before going to Captain Higgins. "Your bounty, sir. And take this," she hands him a shield disc, enchanted the evening before the battle, then strides away into the mass of dark bots and elves hurling killing spells on each breath.

Diana Prince has posed:
Throughout it all, from the outstanding air battle, the amazing ground conflict, with ships falling in to the sea, and explosions lighting up the sky in every direction... what you wouldn't expect...

A window on the side of the western rotunda has a little hand held up behind it, holding a phone...

Inside the building, three teenagers are standing there, with one holding their device up. "Yeah, it's live, we're live! Shutup! Stop bothering me!" The middle teen says, elbowing the one to his right, who whines and elbows back.

"We got 400 viewers too! You guys, this is our biggest stream yet!"

All three of the teens hiding inside the closed-down Chipotle laugh like variations of Beavis and Butthead at this news.

"I told you staying was a sweet idea for our channel!" The one on the left declares before he points at the window. "Oh, shit, is that Thor!?" He excitedly exclaims. "The rainbow thing, that's Thor, isn't it?! Who's that weird blue dude with him...."

"Shutup, Aaron!" The teen in the middle chimes in before clearing his throat. "Ah, yes, welcome to Burrito Bros Live Stream, everyone, we thank you for joining us here today for the massive END OF THE WORLD stream! We're live from the Chipotle in the Atlantic Starport... and boy do we have a show for you today! See those soldiers out there? That's those Amazon ladies, and look up there... I think that's a Kryptonian! Or was, I dunno where she went. Holy shit, we're all gonna die!"

All three teens chortle together in unison again.

"Thanks for your Super Chats, everyone, we're doing this for you all, after all. Don't forget to Like and Sub!"

Outside the Chipotle restaurant's closed-down front facade, two security guards go running by toward one of the eastern doorways, ignorant of the live stream showing off all the madness outside the rotunda itself.

Kraglin Obfonteri has posed:
Pride shows on Kraglin's face as another of the Cap'n's arrows zings an enemy. The Cap'n is why he stays with the cutthroat crew - he's got his eye on the gold. Kraglin steals a glance upward, knowing the captain lusts after one of those sleek ships 'cause he is, too.

For Ms. Know-It-All's benefit, he yells, "Take that, you Svart-al-far," and paints the Elf with deadly light.

Through a large crack in the ceiling, he spots a figure cannonballing from a big-assed ship overhead. Dark at first, he can see red hair streaming like a flag from the figure.

"Shit," he breathes, slings the gun on his shoulder and holds out his arms without giving it a moment's thought. He pushes a button on his belt and his jetpack lights up, pushing toward the crack and the woman hurtling to meet him.

Nick Fury has posed:
A carrier is only a strong as its aircraft; while it has guns on deck, its main power is the ability to carry a lot of smaller, more maneuverable and more deadly planes that have death as its ordnance.

The appearance of the Quinjets is obviously a surprise to the invading force such that a few good shots and a few confirmed kills happen within the first few moments of deployment. Keeping that luck, however, is a great deal more difficult now that they're at least recognized as being fresh troops for the defenders. Dogfights happen as they have in days of aerial combat gone by, the twisting, turning and careening of the planes push limits of both man and metal.

From above now, the Indomitable breaks its silence, and its a voice that is undoubtedly recognized by a good number of combatants. "Glad we're not too late to the party."

On the command deck, then, the form and figure of Nick Fury stands before the viewing station, the expanse of sky before him, the curls of black, ugly smoke rising from kills, both human and elf. His features are stark and pulled tight, an outward expression of inward thoughts. The crew working with him, those manning the computers, the important sectors of the helicarrier that help keep it aloft are concerned, but not afraid. Some work their entire career and never see the legend of SHIELD. Here, they're serving under him. That counts for a whole lot in terms of morale.

No longer patched to the outgoing coms, Nick strides to one of the control banks, his voice low, "I want a full read on the ground. Put it up on the board," okay, he does mean a holographic form. "Then, lock us up again."

From the view below, it takes a few moments for the Indomitable to reveal itself, but after it seems to hang in the air in plain view, there is that same wavey shimmering, and where there had been a flying fortress, there is nothing but air. For those who know the good Director, however, they are still there, and undoubtedly putting yet more plans into action.

It's not easy, shaking a helicarrier when in the sky, but Jane Foster managed to do just that with her killing blows of the undead dragons meet their mark. Some of the crew actually fall out of their chair, and Nick has to hang on to one of the banisters to keep his feet. "What in the Sam Hill was that?"

The holographic display does show active placement, and blips begin to disappear once more..

Now, to find placement for his own version of a bunker buster...

Yondu Udonta has posed:
As Kraglin's jets fire and send him skyward, that draws Yondu's attention back as he lost the man who usually was at his back. Only to spy that falling figure and realize that his first mate was heading to try and catch the person. Hopefully he would be successful.

A bit of a snort of amusement, despite their dire circumstances as the Arrow is caught in his right hand. "Leave it t' him t' find a gal t'save in this mess." But there was a mix of amusement and pride in his tone cause, despite them being cuthroats and assholes, sometimes these particular Ravagers also had hearts of gold.

He dodged a strike and slammed the arrow into the chest of the person then smiled with jagged teeth. "That's what ya get for interruptin' when Ah'm talkin'." And he pursed his lips, the whistle sending the arrow ripping through the back of the Dark Elf as Yondu let the body drop to focus on the flight of his weapon.

Thea Queen has posed:
The archer stays on the ground for what feels like an eternity. She could just fall asleep right about now, drift away. That's what her body is calling for, just rest. Felicity's voice is getting soothingly distant in the background ...

If this is the end ....

The words resonate on her comms when Alura is doing her fly up to space. The voice of people still fighting out there. Dying out there. Thea isn't done yet. She won't rest while others are out there dying. So she sits up. Her own bow was lost long ago but there's a discarded one on the ground from a fallen warrior. She picks it up along with a few golden arrows. They will have to do. <<I could really use a drink right now.>> she teases Felicity on comms. The prompt answer. <<Yes, a nice orange juice.>>

------

Luna looks at Kraglin with a wrinkled nose. "It's svartalfar, not svartalfar." so infuriating. But then Kraglin is flying up for the rescue and she snorts, continuing to walk along with the Cap'n. So inconspicuous. Does she even have a gun?

Thor has posed:
    In the sky beneath the floating Helicarrier that heavy cruiser that just rammed into the Mannaz Dreadnought starts to explode, parts of it jack-knifing sharply, twisting in the air, breaking apart. One of the large talon wings snaps off and hurtles down into the ocean, crashing and causing large waves to wash across the Western clover leaf of the Starport. Yet while those explosions start to burst into life, a smaller one is seen. And it's through that smaller explosion that Natasha Romanoff makes her escape.
    Abruptly that gargantuan ship that had been rammed seems to gain sudden life as its spine twists _upwards_ The hull crackling, twisting as small explosions start to leap into life all over it. Then the spine cracks open fully and through it can be seen a solitary figure holding the entirety of the massive engine assembly trailing connections and cords and dancing electrical energy. Superwoman climbs, up and up, carrying that powerfully lethal core and takes it into the sky, slashing past the surge and swirl of dueling fighters and Quinjets, past the helicarrier itself. Up toward the darkness of space.
    The ancient gigantic ship, now deprived of its power source, slowly falls drifting further toward the ocean, away from the Starport and the USS Eisenhower. It slowly wings over, easing into a crash into the surface of the ocean, its immense weight causing such a tremendous splash that the sea seems to thrum with the impact, rippling, rising. The waves grow, threatening to overwhelm the Atlantean generators that protect the Starport from wild waves and tsunami.
    Now in that blasted central hub of the Starport clover, Malekith cackles as he holds Thor aloft, impaling the Asgardian on those black energy talons curved so wickedly. He draws a deep breath, then seems to grow all the stronger as the three souls of his ancient dragons scream their outrage as the wizard monarch in black swallows them to power his hate, his malice, and his victory.
    Only for the sudden imposition of a hammer crafted by the people of Nidavellir and wrought of Uru to shatter his moment. For Mjolnir flies unerringly toward Thor's hand, slicing across that distance and /crashing/ heavily into Malekith's back, cracking open the armor with a loud impact that explodes with a sizzle of electricity that dances to the skulls and helms of several of those remaining sorcerers near.
    Malekith hits the ground, stopping himself from falling with one heavy fist slamming into the ground...
    Then Stormbreaker _slams_ into the side of his helmet as Jane's strike swings true. The Svartalf monarch only saved by his last sorcerer reaching out with a spell to try and restrain the heroine's arm!
    Yet in that moment if she did not earn Malekith's respect, she earned his hatred, and his ire. For he shakes his head, the helmet falling free and clattering to the ground, blood smeared upon his lips as he snarls, "Damn you!"
    His taloned hand reaches out grasping at the air as he closes those clawed fingers, the distance between Jane and him seeming to shrink. She can feel the enormity of the villain's vicious gaze and that focus entirely on her as his mind whispers those silent profane words...
    Which is the moment when Thor smashes Mjolnir again into the side of his head, sending him to the ground heavily with the clank and crackling of broken armor and a scream of pain from the dark elf.
    The Eisenhower with the aid of Zatanna seems to have eased for the moment. Fighting still is heavy and hectic from the automata that still menaces the ship though that number is quickly dwindling. Yet something is starting to happen amongst the Svartalfar themselves. For they are no longer as focused, no longer as intent, and they seem to be _much_ more hesitant.
    The line before the Amazons and the Wakandans break, only the Kursed holding their positions and fighting, yet they are isolated without their support and overwhelmed by the caliber of the fighting force that opposies them. The group near the Sbarro even get a few amazing shots of the flicke

Thor has posed:
    The teams that had been holding along the ocean line turn and start to fall back into the water. Several of the cruisers above are already breaking formation recalling their fighters.
    It's on the Eisenhower when the first one surrenders. Another Dark Elf wearing that same Assassin's armor as the one she had just killed holds her hands up as she takes off her helm and says in strongly accented English, "I surrender."
    Which has one of the sailors holding up his rifle as he takes a bead and saying, "Like fucking hell!"
    Which is when Captain Higgins says, "Lower yer gun, son. Not too far, though. Might still shoot her ass, but we're the good guys."
    On the comms, The Indomitable is keyed into the tactical grid and the communications officer on the Eisenhower responds back, "Perfect timing, Indomitable. Linking our grid with yours." Which is the moment the data displays are fully integrated and shared if SHIELD accepts that connection. Things start to look a good bit better with that added player on the board.
    

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
Natasha has no glider wings left now. No jet pack. She's up from however many hundreds, if not thousands of meters up in the air and on her way down. Diving hard and moving to go vertical. Enough to make sure she's out of the blast radius of any debris or tumbling explosions. THen she goes to shift her body to horizontal. ARms out to the sides now. Maximizing the coverage of herself to slow her rapid descent. She has no parachute - not that in the midst of these detonations would one be safe to use anyways. But, body held this way slows the rate at which she plummets, and she goes to just wait for her opening to find something nearby to latch onto. Friend, enemy, debris.. Flying ship. Both hands drawing out grapplers. As soon as there's something to tether herself on to..
    And then there's Kraglin, on his way up through the air to catch her! He's not a familiar figure but he's an ally in whatever form. "Appreciated." Her tone is clipped and curt. "Take me to the enxt one and I'll be off." Her eyes settling ona nother nearby fighter as she gestures to it. Someone still has quite a bit of murder to catch up on. It's been a few hours.

Alura In-Ze has posed:
Hammer-Science is quickly becoming someone Alura utterly admires. Aka Jane. She clings to those last few words over the comms. Sky-sister. Heh. She draws in a gigantic breath and pushes out in to the darkness of space. Past the satellites and the junk, past the space stations and out in the empty. Empty enough. The explosion has no sound but it shakes every molecule in Alura's body. The sky above the battle field bursts with colour like an aurora.

Alura finds herself standing beside Flamebird in the makeshift laboratory inside the Phantom Zone. "This is your only chance. Suspended animation until the calculations are complete. Rest Alura. You have fought hard, travelled far, now you need to save your strength."

The sunstone door shuts over Alura and the controls activated by Flamebird. A sharp pain and cold spread through her. These were the last moments she remembered from the Phantom Zone before she awoke. The pins and needles spread across her body as she float in the cold of space.

Impossibly, she had held her breath and her eyelashes flutter open to the bright sun awash her body with its gladful rays. Sol. The feeling of cold is gone again as she starts to feel energised once more. The peaceful warmth settles in to her and she feels the charred skin of her body begin to mend. Her heart rate starts to return and her sense of feeling with it.

Did she just die? did she just die and come back with the power of the sun? She is disoriented by all but that gigantic glowing star before her and it takes her a moment to remember why she was here, what she had done.

It takes mental effort to tear herself away from it and turn back to Earth and all its troubles. She stares down at that little blue planet, clouds swirling about. There is so much noise down there. So much chaos. So much pain but also so much love and so so so much hope.

Her fingers out stretch and her arms push forward - she wills herself to move and she begins to fly back to Earth. Back to home.

Jane Foster has posed:
Never give up hope. The sworn affidavit from a Kryptonian mother to her daughter must be worth something in this life, a power as strong as the embrace from a queen to her prodigal son. Has the weary golden lady of Asgard lifted her head from that lengthy vigil at her husband's bedside or walked the orchards of Idunn, smiling to know the storm raging on distant shores signals the Crown Prince once more walks among them?

Jane has no answer to this, fending off a sorcerous bolt lancing off her arm and leaving a burning path in its wake. Her flesh sizzles to the haphazard effort of the failing coterie to repulse the Aesir raging at the eye of a storm. <<Zatanna, do you have this?>>

Somewhere beyond, Wonder Woman and surely Lady Sif engage, though only the barest glimmers of a divine death threat from afar wend among the cacophonous mosaic of violet and bruise-black losses. It takes something truly immense to pierce the veil.

When it goes off, a gamma ray burst at short range strong enough to stagger her for a seocnd. Her eyes lock with the mismatched face of Svartalfjar's dark monarch. Her mental shields are not sufficient to repulse the raw hatred radiating off him, and her lips curl back in defiance of the awful gravity hauling them together as surely as a star collapses into the void when brushed too close. His lips move and hers tighten against the crackling surge, Mjolnir hefted down in Thor's hand to snap the spell as if Zatanna took her shears to it.

Fight on, the only option. The helicarrier at a grave height brings another hovering shadow, urging her to fight on, a presence far finer than a chorus of angry angels or seething nanobots. She drives Stormbreaker at Malekith -- or for Thor to take, at this point the directions and interchangeable dance are nearly too fluid for her to follow, the blurred lights and sensations wheeling furiously on the precipice of an event horizon that draws out every motion into eternity.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Occult blades whirl, slicing any resistance as Zatanna wades through the dark horde, shield glinting in the detonations. Sailors kick the little black figures littering the deck out of their way as they defend the ship.

Something in the air slows the sorceress in her rampage - a current in the magic permeating the Starport and the ocean surrounding it. She turns back to the fallen Elf, whose blood from the crack in his armor blackens the deck. Standing behind the Captain, whose voice of reason slows the firing, she shakes her head in wonder at the woman elf's surrender. She will never be proud of the impulse to kill she quells at the last moment. Like the sailor, the Captain's voice reaches through her justifiable rage.

After taking a calming breath, "The Starport, Captain. They would never surrender if Malekith stood. Never. He drives the Hive Mind." Then, with a bemused glance around her, "We might win against all odds."

Orienting to the Starport, Zatanna rises into the air. With one glance down at the Captain, she smiles despite the pain crackling around her heart, "You've got this, sir. I'm being called."

A violet line burns the air, and she disappears to reappear near Jane.

"I'll do what I can." Zatanna strides toward Malekith. A spear burning with light pops into existence which she launches, one more blow meant to rip the darkness from him and hurdle him to hell.

Diana Prince has posed:
With Captain Bria down, Diana can no longer fly as freely around the Amazonian forces as she had been before. She fills in for the command structure change and helps her sisters hold the line to keep the Svarts held back. She remains mounted on Jumpa's ornate battle saddle, sweeping across the shield-wall line, her blade of Athena cutting through the necks of some of the cursed monsters pushing toward the barrier blocking the Amazons.

From the north, a line of horse-mounted warrior women come charging back down, pushing the forces of Maleketh back down towards the edge of the choke point. Only the horses are forced to break off as a line of cursed push forward, the nature of the cursed themselves causing the Amazon mounts to veer off, sensing the unnatural element of the enemies.

The golden lasso shines brightly as it wraps around one of the necks of a cursed figure nearly ten feet in height. He grasps hold of the lasso, tugging hard on it to pull Diana toward him. With her sword out, she means to deliver it straight into his chest. But at the last moment, he sweeps the blade aside and smashes his fist into the shoulder of Diana's armored pauldron! He smashes her to the ground before hoisting one of his huge, meaty feet up in the air to try and crush her on the ground. Diana skillfully rolls out from under his stamping foot! She twirls the divine rope upward, wrapping it around the cursed's massive leg, where she pulls hard to drop him to the ground next.

A line of Amazon archers aims for the cursed to aid their princess, unleashing a barrage of Heartseeker arrows that gleam a golden light upon their tips, as they scream down into the back of the cursed ones' bodies!

Kraglin Obfonteri has posed:
OOoof," the red-haired woman plops into Kraglin's arms, causing them both to drop a few feet. She's heavier than he thought but feels kinda good. Nice curves, he thinks, and she smells good, too.

"Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do. Name's Kraglin Obfonteri, look me up when yer done."

He releases her and then snaps her a jaunty salute before lowering himself back into the Starport.

Nick Fury has posed:
With the linking of the carriers, and the information for the flight data on the Quinjets is fed into the Eisenhower's air traffic control system, Nick nods his acknowledgement and understated but still present relief. "Glad to be able to take some of the heat off, Captain," sounds a conversational tone through the coms; two commanders of their carriers.

Nick twists around, his voice now off coms once more, "Give me damage report of the Eisenhower." The moment that order is given, he gives a secondary to the flight team, "Start to take us down. 5,000 feet increments. Stay cloaked."

"Five thousand feet, yes sir," comes the immediate reply. As the ship lowers, between the physical view, the shared data stream and the holographic representation before him, Nick has a pretty good idea of where everything lies. The stalling of the battle, the losses on the dark elves' side is comprehensively seen, and he whistles softly.

"Command central to Flights. Alpha, concentrate on controlling access to the Eisenhower. Bravo, provide support on the Starport. Nothing in our out unless it's ours. Charlie and Delta, clean up and render what aid you can. Bring 'em aboard so we don't piss off the local hospitals." That should be enough. Notice.. there is no order to disengage... nope.

Thea Queen has posed:
With the main forces giving up and only a few of the Kursed left it means Thea can lower the bow she had picked from the ground. It's perhaps a good thing since she didn't think she could fire an arrow.

Turning she goes back to kneel by Sif to see about her friend's condition.

Thor has posed:
    With that shattering smash of Stormbreaker, now in Jane's hands, crashing into the side of Malekith, then aided by the sudden thrust of an eldritch spear that slices into existence by the mistress of the magical arts, it serves to cause the last of his wards to crackle and fall to pieces like so many crystalline fragments... he reels. Now on his back, shaking his head, eyes unfocused. Around him magics fall away, the lone survivor of his coterie abruptly flickers out of existence, leaving the Dark Elf monarch to his fate.
    Yet he laughs.
    Malekith laughs through bloodied teeth and spittle stained features, shaking his head then spitting a gob of it at Zatanna. Thor... who has turned to look to the side, Mjolnir still in his hand though he looks now on Jane as he can almost feel the dire magick wrought by the ancient sorcerer. With his brow furrowed the man the Ravagers know as SteveRogers, the others there who might recognize him as the Thunderer. He looks at Malekith and places Mjolnir heavily on his chest, pinning the monarch who groans at the weight of Odin's magic upon his frame.
    "Undo what you have wrought, Malekith. This battle is over."
    Which only causes another laugh as the Dark Elf with his split-toned features cackles again and says simply. "I can not. And if I could. I would not."
    With the rush of the Amazons, with the pressure of the Helicarrier above, and with the feeling... of that pressure from their monarch gone...
    The Dark Elves break.
    No longer do they give a pretense at battle. Those that are capable slither into their cloaked forms, trying to hurry and depart. Other lower ranking members of the warrior class drop their weapons, throw them aside. The ones that have no clear path of flight relinquish their weapons and throw them aside at the feet of their enemies. It's only the Kursed that remain, and soon they are quickly taken down like the beasts that they are.
    Many have fallen in this battle.

Alura In-Ze has posed:
By way of a change of clothes - Superwoman lands beside the heroes fighting at the Starport. Her eyes sunken and hollow, her skin paled. She will take time to heal properly and recover from what just happened to her but she is here, present, and ready to... oh, it's over?

She places her hands on her hips and lifts her chin up and quickly scans the battle field. There are so many dead on both sides. One still breaths though. She lands next to Thea and places a hand on her shoulder.

"Hi.." a soft voice as she looks at Sif who is clearly dear to Thea. "Please allow me. I can take her to hospital." She scoops up Sif against her body and judges Thea on the spot, seeing her exhaustion and wounds and the battle she has clearly been a part of and survived, "You are amazing."

Alura launches up in to the sky and races Sif to the nearest medical facility.

Jane Foster has posed:
Despite Mjolnir's immense might, even it cannot resist the venom driven so utterly deep. Equilibrium scythes askew and a burst of ozone overcomes the briny sea and spilled blood when Asgardian armour unravels as though it never was.

One. Electric sparks playing across Jane's torso and limbs are driven back by the midnight patina spilled over her. Darkness leaches the brilliant gold of her hair and the warmth of her flesh into the pallid reflection viewed through a hoarfrost-scattered window. Colour leached from her leaves a woman barely touching the ravaged ground of the spaceport, an Asgardian gown pulled across her white shoulder. Already her ankles pass through the wrecked metal plating, the rest of her sinking downward.

Two. There isn't time. Her unfathomably dark gaze moves from Thor and Zatanna to --.

Three. A thin golden chain crashes to the ground, weighed down by a pair of immensely valuable gemstones that glitter with an iridescent fire.

She's gone as if she never was, erased.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
The dark magic already cracked, fragments under the spear's blow, yet Malekith lives. Red spittle splashes to the ground as Zatanna's shield winks out. She stares down at him. Then, without thought, another spear flaming with light edged in dark shadows appears in her hand. Night nibbles at the edge of her vision as she hefts the weapon, all too willing to send him to mortal death.

An old line of verse read long ago concerning Malekith's link to the darkness, and balance comes stays her hand. Behind it, she can hear the reason in Captain Higgin's voice when he stopped his sailors from killing. Malekith's death would unbalance the universe. She looks up from contemplating him and turns to Thor, gesturing to include Jane who fades before her eyes. Zatanna steps toward her as though she could wrest her from the magic that surged around them.

"No, no, no, not that."

Murder in her eyes, she twists to face Malekith, "Demon, you belong in hell and I want to be the one to send you there."

The spear winks out of existence. Hands clenched, she takes a shuddered breath, "Thunderer, it would be better if we find someplace to imprison him. There are forces I don't pretend to understand at play here."

Diana Prince has posed:
The last of the Cursed has its guts spread across the starport walkway, as Diana had twisted her sword, and pulled it from the monster's insides. The tall Amazonian princess steps back, in the shade of one of the massive marble columns lining the southern side of the walkway to the western leaf of the clover-shaped Starport.

With her sword dripping dark blood, she steps out of the shadow of the marble pillar, and out in to the light of the day through the haze thick in the sky. Her eyes are across the distance to where Maleketh faced off against the ASgardian forces, and otherwise...

She turns then, and starts back toward her people, and the shield-wall that begins to come apart when the last of the Cursed begins to paint the cobblestone ground.

Behind the Amazon forces, a shimmering of air turns solid as a large dagger-shaped ship of cloud hue comes in to sight. The 'Invisible Jet' shifts in to very much being visible now, and from its underbelly a pair of Amazons in cloaks come down an extending rampway. The forces of Themyscira are splitting in to groups to tend to their wounded, and otherwise, as Diana moves toward those gathering about her fallen Captain, her fallen friend.

Thor has posed:
    There is a relative silence in that moment as the being that they had known as Jane Foster...
    Was simply no more.
    There was the distant rumble of fading weapons fire. The rushing flight of ships fleeing from the battle.
    But there in the moment as sound recedes in the center of the Starport's clover... a pregnant silence.
    Thor's good eye widens as he looks to where Jane had been. They had only those few moments. Of being reunited, old friends, former loved ones. It had been such warmth and kinship and a feeling of potential for the future in that single moment. And then...
    He slowly turned his head to the fallen King.
    Which is when the silence would break as he cackled. Just one long laughing cackle as he shook his head. "All your strength..." His voice was a giddy giggle as he shook his bloodied head. "Oh it was a fun..."
    Only for his voice to be cut off instantly as Stormbreaker leaps into Thor's hand in one movement, then crashes down heavily into Malekiths' skull with that same motion. The gore of the moment is strong for those that can see, and the brutality of it is... a horror.
    He gives voice to one word, "Jane." Then his gaze turns toward Zatanna, his one good eye giving silent entreaty for the sorceress to do... _something_.
    With the passing of their leader the last bond he holds upon his people is lost. None give battle, most of them flee.