2916/Black Sun: Once More Unto the Breach

Black Sun: Once More Unto the Breach
Date of Scene:	14 August 2020
Location:	Montauk Lighthouse
Synopsis:	The cavalry is coming.
Cast of Characters:	Meggan Puceanu, Jessica Drew, Daisy Johnson, Jemma Simmons, Jane Foster
Tinyplot:	Black Sun

---

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,
Or close the wall up with our[...] dead.
     -- Henry V, Act 3 Scene 1

Exit 65. I-475. 9:13 PM.

Night often comes to New York on catspaws, never really darkening to total blackness. Even in semi-rural Long Island, lights glitter alongside the Long Island Expressway, marking streets and shopping centres out. The city itself resides under a hazy orange glow to the southwest. Not so tonight. Total darkness floods the world in shadows, a hazy waning crescent not due up for another three hours. No witnesses to see the Quinjet desperately bucking and heaving, whirling down through the night sky in a death spiral as its engines burn out and in. No one to hear the pilots swearing at instrumentation panels burnt out, devices failing, the desperate warning they're too low to use parachutes. Alarms shrill. The Triskelion helplessly reads the reports, forced to NASA-levels of calm under Challenger-level panic.

In the end luck is with them, barely, a bucking, jouncing ride down the freeway's three lines that tears out the gear and worse. A forced exit after the bruising landing ejects three of SHIELD's betters, whatever cases of gear they brave carrying. They long since passed the police checkpoint turning back all non-essential traffic. Planes diverted north and south avoid LaGuardia and JFK on pretenses. Abandoned cars and trucks litter the sides of the road, a jackknifed semi marked with a lurid orange "E" - presumably for 'empty,' so no one comes. Jess has her choice of things to steal, hotwire, or move.

The island is silent, greenery absent of even insects chirping on a humid, still summer night. Thus it's almost too easy to cut off onto the service drive, taking the pitted, rutted path sweeping to the last known point of communication for Agents Wilson and Whitman. Where Gothic Lolita was wiped off the map. Where the Winter Soldier went silent, turned or lost. Wreckage of a helicopter lies strewn across fields and road, rotors ripped apart, blasted metal ribbons twisted and strung like the 'streamers' used in World War II to confound the Luftwaffe's archaic radar.

Ahead lies a large truck, greyish-beige in the night, wrapped in canvas. It's partly crushed. Another lopsided array of crates and metal boxes and debris probably serves -- and served -- as a barricade. No signs of movement at this distance, but that means nothing.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Upside down, booted feet hanging out the door of the SUV, Jessica swears aloud as she finagles the solenoid out from the steering column. Suffolk County is moneyed and the three downed SHIELD agents are borrowing a vehicle to get to their destination.

"Damned Rovers. Why do they have to be so well made?" A spark, followed by another one becomes the thrum of the engine turning over. Scooting out, she puts the multi-key tool back into her belt pack then reseats her black SHIELD visored cap on her head. In full combat kit, she wears a standard issue bullet proof vest over the closely fitted black ops uniform.

"Ready? I have the map in my head for how to get to Exit #65."

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Black and blue uniform, high boots. It's that standard, and stylish, uniform that Quake uses now, gloves already on her hands while she is perusing through a tablet, eyes wide as she absorbs info up on the Quinjet. "So, Yaphank. A little town that, believe it or not, was a Nazi epicenter in the 30s, as in nazi worshippers right here on the States. Streets named after Hitler, Himmler.., swastaikas on the houses and ---" a pause at the turbulence, making Daisy shake on her seat and the tablet to go skidding across the ground.

Yay for using seatbelts!

"... And damn that turbulence! Anyway, Yaphank appears to be within that radius of silence that was formed." she notes. "Around 20km of radius."

And then they are out. She brings a backpack, those hacking essentials with her, some nightvision goggles, her trusty ICER along with a tablet and comm devices. It was time to rock some nazis.

She moves into the SUV, nodding sharply at Jessica. "Ready. Lets be careful, last reports were of a minigun taking fire on GL. So they may be heavily armed." which was conflicting enough due to the urgency she felt on rescuing her friends. Safe or daring?

Well, whoever knew Daisy would know the answer. Reckless daring when lives were at stake. "With that said, lets step on it."

A look is given to Jemms. "Got that ICER ready? Think you will have plenty of nazis to shoot down tonight." because yes, Jemms's shooting prowess was becoming legendary.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    There is a nod from another one of the three. "As ready as I will ever be." The slightly exasperated tone, coupled with the British accent, identifies the agent as one Jemma Simmons. She, too is dressed in tactical gear for the occasion. bullet proof vest, black uniform with matching boots. ICER upon her hip.

     But...there are two separate items on her person that are not usually there. One...a black baseball cap, positioned on her head in such a way to keep her hair, which is in a ponytail, pulled back and out of the way. And two? A black backpack that the others might identify as Jemma's 'bag of tricks'. For the moment, it is closed...but it does look like it has some goodies of its own within.

    Hopefully items that will help.

    "Get us there as fast as you can, Agent Drew. And...be careful. Whatever it is blew my tracking algorithms completely out of the water. It is massively powerful."

Jane Foster has posed:
I-475. Checkpoint Friedrich. 9:24 PM.

Jessica feels the ground under the Land Rover turn rough, hard to get a grip on. Tires fall through divots and pockmarks well before the headlights reveal the hulking forms of SUVs, standard SHIELD issue with tinted windows. Three lie scattered up the service drive out of four dispatched. Raw scars and grooves ripped out of the soil and asphalt alike mark where something chewed through violently, and the number of bulletholes on the vehicles is disturbing, close up.

Closer still, the barricaded truck is missing a door, demolished on the hood like something landed on it at immense speed or force. It's just possible to make out a SHIELD SUV on its side, utterly shredded by the remnants of a weirdly old-school minigun broken into pieces. The other is harder to find, but bodies lie slumped behind the wreckage. At that distance, their dark clothes don't make it easy to identify anyone.

Beyond lie low buildings, dark and quiet. An empty flagpole lies crooked from one. Tinkling metallic noises mark bullet casings spilled across the road.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"That looks like GL's handywork...." Daisy nodding at the barricaded truck. Hey, she has seen GL going at it a few times now! Her eyes are turning her and there on the windows of their SUV though, searching, seeking for enemies or friends alike. She uses both her eyes but also her extraordinary senses, those that can pick on vibrations. Seeking, focusing on those vibrations that may or may not exist in the air.

"Lets park over there?" she suggests, pointing close to where the barricaded truck is at. "We need to get in there. I am still not picking any communications from anyone on the earlier team." and that makes a small, worried frown come to her expression.

"There's at least three unconscious people on the ground here. I can't sense anyone else alive.." She murmurs.

Jessica Drew has posed:
The road seems to fight Jessica. Without the bulletproof vest padding, she would be bruised from hitting the steering wheel as they negotiate fresh potholes. As they come upon the SHIELD vehicles, instinct tells her to cut the lights. After maneuvering the borrowed Land Rover to the position Daisy indicates, she kills the engine and opens the door without getting out.

"GL's handiwork? That's reassuring."

She slides out of the car door kicking a spent casing that rolls across the asphalt. Eyes closed, she listens, extending her spider senses to their maximum. "Hearts beating. I smell blood. I'm not getting anything else in the immediate vicinity but, I don't trust it."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    Jemma's head snaps around to Daisy as she mentions unconscious people. "You can sense that?" Of course Daisy can sense that. Probably felt the heartbeats. A finger taps at the side of Jemma's hip as Jessica calls out that she also senses the hearts beating. "Right. We should check on them to make sure they are alive and safe. If they are not ours, then we should restrain them so that they will not become a hassle later." Internally, Jemma may be reminding herself that she is the only non-powered person in this trio of terror, but externally, she is all business. "Then, once we have ensured the safety of these unknowns, we go there."

    There...is where Daisy pointed out...and where Jemma's finger points now. "The last known coordinates would put the first team in that area. And that is where my sensors indicated was the point of origin for the massive energy spike."

Jane Foster has posed:
Checkpoint Friedrich. 9:33 PM.

No sounds of radios respond to attempts to reach them, the comms systems between the three agents hissing and popping. Feedback is ugly.

When Jessica lands on the ground, the ground around her is riddled by holes and not a few bullets spent from the belt of the miniguns. The unconscious men are dressed and kitted out like soldiers, uniforms bloody, jackboots and dark shirts not making them SHIELD. Blood, everywhere. To her enhanced senses, a mix of effects: metal, gun oil, perfume, soap. Fellow agents were here. Death was dispensed here, the sick rot of it spiralling back through the humid night to the overturned SUV past the barricade. Streaks of rubber show its demise. Past that, soil and pavement cooling barely at all in the night.

Jemma's app spikes and simply produces an ERROR-ERROR-ERROR reading. The screen lights up and wobbles, frozen in resolution. Past the checkpoint, a collection of low-slung buildings wreathed in a bit of forest hint at civilisation resuming its march. Ahead ought to be a string of towns: Brookhaven, Yaphank, North Bellport, South Haven. Posh places, old places. No sanctuary for them.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"Just like those vamps, remember?" How casual Daisy goes to talking about vampires. But after she has seen ghosts, people that should had been dead ages ago and a few more assorted experiences on the supernatural it was something that was becoming more and more part of her life. SHIELD life!

"Don't look like ours.." and as Jemma suggested she goes along to start strapping some zip-cords on their hands to bind them. Standard SHIELD equipment! Not that she will check for vitals.., that she leaves to the others if they so want to...

Because she is now busy peeking at a certain flag through the trees. She points. "A nazi flag, right through those trees there." a frown. "We need to get moving, and fast. The other team may be in danger."

She places one hand on her ICER.

Jessica Drew has posed:
The scientist with a heart. Jemma's first response to care for the injured is another reason Jessica joined SHIELD, leaving her roots in HYDRA behind. Senses at high alert, she crosses the pocked tarmac toward the downed SUV. The night air brings her a roil of odor - burned rubber from skidding tires, blood, the unmistakable stench of violent death.

Daisy's alerts her to the flag laying on the ground - its two lightning-shaped runes harbingers of death and fear for so many during WWII. A few steps take her closer where she kneels for a moment to examine it.

"Schutzstaffel - SS. Confirmation is right there."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    A frown, deep and prevalent, overtakes Jemma's expression as she examines the unconscious solders, for soldiers they are. "Here, these wounds. This isn't a direct shot. More...like a redirected round. Possibly bouncing off of something rather dense..and most likely dressed in black lace." After all, there are other signs of the android cavalry having being here. It doesn't take a genius to know what caused the ricochet.

    Having ensured that the Nazis will live, despite her deep reservations, Jemma then takes it upon herself to use zip ties upon the ankles as well. These...are not going anywhere if she can help it. After that is done, Jemma stands up, but not before drawing her ICER. "Alright. Into the fire, we go."

Jane Foster has posed:
Checkpoint Friedrich.
As Jessica approaches the building marked by that white and black flag discarded in the foliage, her counterparts are certain to see her body starting to darken around the edges. Filaments of ink bleed away from her top and her pants, dissolving into streamers. The core darkens, her skin greying, flickering as she shrinks and collapses into herself. She melts away the still night, until in the space of a breath and a blink, she is no more other than the lasting trace of a streak of her footstep on the ground like a bleeding jolt of dye.

Checkpoint Gustav. Night.
On the other side, people stand in the street. They are dressed beautifully, rather formally, for a politely respectable community. Lights bob on lines stretched from one side of the street to the other. Adults gather in the night, the soldiers on the street corners staring in awe to the east-northeast. Couples clutch one another's hands. Parents hug. People standing in the windows crane to see, and at least one woman sobs into a handkerchief. This isn't a sign of terror. No sign of horror. This is /joy/.

The scene repeats itself in various small signs of wonder and awe all the way along, past the smokeshop and closed pharmacy, with diners emerging from a cafe in wonder and tangible dazzled awe, awe in the truest sense of the word. People leave their neat houses, and some are on their knees, others holding their arms out straight at an angle, saluting.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"Wait ..." Daisy lifts one hand up when she notes the darkening but too late. Gone... That makes her eyes go wide, uncomprehending on what just happened here, at least for now. But no time for a chin drop. Whatever it was they were looking for was on the other side of this .., barrier, or whatever this could be.

A look is given Jemma's way and she exhales. "Lets do this." no hesitation, also drawing out her ICER. A reassuring nod is given towards Jemms. They'd be fine, as long as they stuck together.

She extends one hand for Jemma if she wants to take it and then it's go time! Towards the dark!

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    The ICER is transferred to Jemma's left hand, as the other reaches over and takes Daisy's outstretched hand without hesitation. With a glance over, she manages a smile. "What? If it is a dimensional gateway, then it makes sense to hold onto one another to prevent individual displacement." It sounds like a good enough excuse....but that smile betrays Jemma. She totally just made that up.

    Still, with hands held, Jemma turns to the dark. There is most definitely a swallow, and the heartrate picks up that Daisy can most certainly feel. But...she is not turning away. No...she's ready.

    "Well....let's see this through. Onward and upward!"

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica rises, taking a step back to survey the area and nearly falls to the ground in shock. Rigidly holding her arms out to the side as though afraid to touch herself, she turns in place.

She has walked into another time. A strong survival instinct forces her to close her mouth and lower her arms, the olive drab of her sleeves and the black leather gloves distracting her a moment. She looks back, wanting to find Jemma and Daisy smiling at the practical joke they are playing on her.

Around her, people jostle, there is an unmistakable feeling of anticipation; people shift and look down the road as though waiting for a parade to begin. Overhead a banner blazoned with a swastika unfurls and waves lazily in the wind.

Jane Foster has posed:
Checkpoint Gustav. 9:41 PM.

Glorious delight wraps up the various people gathered together. Residents in a moment of celebration barely notice three more people at the end of town. They clasp hands and embrace in a rare show of emotion. The mood in the town is ebullient. A sign or two proclaim where they are, what they are. Music daren't play too loud but someone starts singing America the Beautiful, and a couple dances with a 3-year-old boy in shorts between them, an act of love and joy.

It's at some distance that Jessica can see what it will take the other two longer to notice. "Yaphank Town Center" reads one in Gothic German font, an iron cross bedecked in oak leaves visible to the lot of them if they approach the green and turn. At every major intersection are soldiers, and they're in the open-topped saloon cars sliding along the streets, just like civilians. The drivers have stopped, mostly, joining the celebration with a few smart honks on their horns. Ladies in hats and gloves, men in uniform, make this look entirely normal. Reading the street signs is just as jarring. There is indeed a Berlin Street, a Himmel Street, a Goering Street.

Of course, the intersection slicing from the square? Hitler Street.

Bunting becomes a perfect storm headed to the northeast, a narrow, perfect avenue branching away through brick housing as 30s and 40s-style as anyone can get. More signs, because god, Americans love their damn signs. And past that...

Wewelsburg Castle. The unmistakable profile of its towers with the tulip-shaped roofs and high walls. It's some distance away, awash in light, the source of so much joy. More joins it: a rising succession of buildings literally appearing in front of their face. Imagine someone took a slice of Vienna or Stuttgart's old city and transported those old facades into a neighbourhood. In a blink. No space, it simply is.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"Uh, we are not in Kansas anymore..." And now Daisy has enough time to let her jaw drop at the chance in scenery, on her clothing that have now become jet black, the symbol of the SS visible where once was her SHIELD one. Oh, great... Hail Hydra or something ....

A look is spared to Jemma, "How can this be?" maybe her friend will have a logical explanation to this. Well, 'logical'. She doesn't expect something that makes /that/ much sense. She points ahead to where Jessica is, "Hey, are you ok?" she asks..

And then it's time to check on the comms. A taptap and she calls out. "Director, Gothic Lolita, anyone out there?" She asks. "Quake, Spider and Battle Cleric reporting." her tone quite hoping there will be some kind of answer.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    As Jemma and Daisy step through, the whole world warps for the briefest of instances....and Jemma isn't exactly sure if she is even still part of her world. Looking down upon her form, Jemma finds herself in a sort of militaristic uniform...but definitely not what she was expecting. High boots, a dark olive green skirt with matching shirt. A form of armor, the backpack a canvas affair rather than the nylon of before. Her ICER is still a weapon, of sorts, but with extra fittings and a chamber that resembles a miniature boiler...making it truly a steam-powered weapon. And...the ponytail is gone, as is the baseball cap. Instead, her hair is layered in waves as it was back in the Speakeasy, with a wedge cap upon her head. If it wasn't for the obvious Nazi symbolism, she would resemble a certain British agent from years gone by. An agent that now shares some of Jemma's genetic material.

    With a test, Jemma speaks into the comm. <<We have passed through some sort of barrier and are in some sort of town. If a plan is already in motion, then please advise. Otherwise, SS team 2 will investigate and keep in touch.>> SS team? Super Science, of course!

Jessica Drew has posed:
The com bead in Jessica's ear crackles to life. She reaches up to touch it to find her ear covered in bouncy curls that fall to her shoulder. Her fingers rise further to touch the woven wool of a cap. Brass buttons wink in the sunlight along the front of her uniform, she looks down at the sharp razor edge of a freshly pressed uniform pants and highly polished knee high boots.

The sense of relief flooding through her at the sound of Daisy's voice, then Jemma's makes her knees weak. <"Copy that...ah, SS," she replies.

Expecting to wake up at any moment, she crosses the distance to the other two and resists grabbing them both in an embrace. Instead, she keeps her attention fixed on the street.

"We have a slight problem. Do you think they are waiting for what we are waiting for?"

Jane Foster has posed:
No sunlight: in Yaphank, it's night, the true night when the last rays of sun are gone from the sky and the dark, beautiful heavens radiate with a few stars pricking through. But more interesting by far is that castle, or the other bits of architecture exquisitely rendered. People by and large watch the world brightening on their doorstep, but a few do look Jessica's way. To Jemma. Those walkies aren't samll, whatever they are talking through, but great big things made of metal or first generation plastic.

Curious eyes follow, but other people hugging in the street? Nothing at all a problem!

Daisy Johnson has posed:
This is some ancient looking relics that they are holding to communicate, along with those. ..., ICERs... And then Daisy notes her gauntlets, diesel-powered, the smell very evident and a small chamber under each, making them rather bulky. But such is diesel-life.

"The castle then. Time to go." Daisy will cast a look at the people around but doesn't really focus on any. They had a goal to go to. But then she eyes Jemms. "Or are your gadgets working again in here? You mentioned a tracking device of some kind?"

"Want to take point, Jessica?" because yay for danger sense!

<We are on our way>

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Count on me to be the muscle," Jessica resorts to humor in the face of the Nazi nightmarescape they find themselves walking through. They pull back walking behind the crowd. Jessica acts as though she is on official business, shoulders back, an implacable air of superiority stiffening her expression.

"Got an idea of how we are going to gain entry? I can climb walls without a problem if we decide to go in by another entrance," she keeps her voice low as they pass groups of towns folk excitedly lining the sides of the street

Jane Foster has posed:
Wewelsburg Castle. On the way, Hitler Street.

That's right, they're walking up Hitler Street to get to the castle. It's hard to miss given the sheer bulk and the backlit glory of the towers facing in tandem onto a courtyard where a large mass of people meet. It takes about a mile and a half or more to reach it, and on the way, soldiers moving at a smart clip hasten to join the celebrations that clearly mark the centre of all things.

Or outright combat, but let it be said telling the difference between the two is significantly more difficult. Brick homes take over from businesses, neat and tidy in a most well-planned town. Unlike its European cousins, this one drops into the middle of a gridded neighbourhood. It will, nonetheless, make it difficult to sneak up or just plow through a garden to join the fray. They have to turn and follow the course of the road, like everyone else, without busting through fences and making that run a slog.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"I wonder what exactly these people are celebrating." A frown appearing on the SS officer's face while she inspects the movements of the soldiers. She shakes her head slowly. "One thing Schneider was right about, we can't let this item fall into the hands of those that will use it for their megalomaniac purposes."

She will follow after for now but looks around, maybe looking for a shortcut. Daisy is always looking for those. Too impatient!

"Damn it, see any side street we can slip through?" she asks. "At this rhythm we will only get there tomorrow.."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    That frown of Jemma's is more and more pronounced as the trio head up the street. It would appear that Jemma really is not fond of Nazis at all. At Daisy's question, the canvas backpack is slung off her shoulder, as the three keep up with the brisk pace. "Let's see...."

    The first thing that Jemma extracts is....a tablet. Of paper. "Well, that isn't going to help here. But, honestly, Daisy, with the amount that was being produced, there would have been no way to pinpoint the exact location."

    But....Jemma has more toys in there. With a curious glance, Jemma holsters her ICER and pulls out another similar looking weapon. Only...this one has a red hue, and a glass chamber on top that appears to somehow be holding what could only be described as magma. "Huh. That's intrigue. This is supposed to be the counterpart to the cryogun we created. Fires white phosphorus rounds that will burn through most things. Only...this seems to be geared to fire a stream of...magma? Won't Fitz have loved to see this." The cryogun is in the bag, too...white with similar stylings. Only...the glass chamber appears to be some sort of supercooled liquid. "Well....we might be able to gain entry with these. Otherwise, I am sure we can improvise something when we get there."

    The freeze ray, for that is what it is now in this topsy turvy world, remains in the bag, while Jemma keeps the heat ray counterpart out. Never know when one suddenly needs to warm up the joint. Or...a wooden castle door.

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Commandeer a vehicle? Run? You're right, we'll be here for hours at this rate." Jessica heads into a quiet side street lined with shops.

"Burning through doors might come in handy later, Jemma. It's just a little attention getting at the moment." A child walking with his mother in the opposite direction catches sight of the three women. Jessica's frown matches Jemma's in intensity. The child's face crumples into tears.

Jane Foster has posed:
On the road to Wewelsburg
Nothing like stealing a car or commandeering a vehicle that's big enough to fit a family of six in comfort. The man driving that didn't really need it, right? He might even swat at them as he is urged to leave, since the only car around is one that has an actual driver of some stature.

Don't ask who that was just pulled out. Or that someone threw a victim of Nuremberg into the gutter, but she did.

All that matters is a faster path taken to the outer court of a castle. The castle that is surrounded by Nazi SS soldiers fighting with several agents, what honestly /is/ a werewolf, another man covered in arcane tattoos. A speaker that Jemma ought to remember from a guy who rode around in a Porsche and threw a book at Captain America's face during a car chase to escape him.

It's pure madness, what with MJ and Dane pinned down near the front door, Falcon with a Rocketeer-style jetpack. Black lightning flung from a window comes from a sorcerer. Conventional gunfire is the easy part.

Welcome to the Third Reich. Don't enjoy the stay.