Owner	Pose
Cassie Sandsmark	It's a beautiful day. The sun glitters on the ocean surface, and reflects brightly off the elegant and ergonomic high-tech architecture of the Atlantic Starport. It is a beacon, in that great sea, calling out a welcome to the cosmos. And that call has been answered. Driven across the cosmos by forces as-yet not fully understood, a desperate multitude has gathered here. Alien refugees from a great stellar convoy, they have come to the open doors of this newly-minted power. Many remain in space, but those with vessels severely damaged (by calamity, by piracy, by the simple entropy of time) have sought refuge on the surface. And they have been welcomed, at least by those who run this place. But their numbers grow challenging. Having since overwhelmed its docking facilities, it is not just the Starport landing bays that are hosts to guests, now, but the surrounding waters as well. The largest several ships, their spaceworthiness gone yet still intact enough to remain watertight, float around the surrounding waters. The Atlanteans have offered barges, temporary island constructions as well. All, while several miles distant, the world powers watch. A naval blockade has steadily grown around the vicinity of the Starport in the preceding weeks, its movements reported dutifully by Atlantean observation: An American carrier group is the most obvious and provocative observer, but France and the UK have sent smaller detachments as well. Meanwhile, though they lack official Atlantic Fleets, both the Russian Federation and People's Republic of China have sent submarines to prowl the same waters. In the last few days, a new large ship has joined the American group, the USNS Lejeune. The situation is exacerbated by other incidents. In prior weeks, the SHIELD rotunda was subject to a secret military operation, with a number of agents still held in Amazon security cells. NATO denies any official sanction and declares it a rogue attack, perhaps connected to the HYDRA operation at the UN. SHIELD itself, well... Fury probably isn't eager to advertise to the world that a whole division has seemingly gone AWOL in orbit. It comes to an ultimatum. "In accordance with UN Security Council Resolution 3128, the organizing authority of the Atlantic Starport is required to yield operational control of the facility. All vessels and passengers of non-Earth origin will surrender to the custody of a multinational monitoring group while their asylum status and and housing is decided." The message, however, is not delivered from the USS Ellis; it's point origin is much closer, quickly identified as a mass of atmospheric disturbance resolves into the rippling image of an approaching Hellicarrier.
Natasha Romanova	Well, isn't this interesting? Natasha Romanova goes to speak calmly along the radio from the SHIELD Rotunda. <<Hellicarrier, transmit authorization codes and in-person command signoff. You are acting in a manner in direct violation of orders of Director Fury and standing NATO ordnances.>> SHIELD was run by NATO, not the UN. Natasha was trying to make a bit of a gamble here.. Whether or not Fury had taken a position on anything, he kept SHIELD out of politics. So would the Hellicarrier Captain admit it or might he stall at what was essentially a bluff - but one that was quite well enforced by the woman of steel and sadism. <<You are going against established orders of the DIrector. I require authorization and signoff from the Deputy Director and NATO Command in the abscence of Director Fury's orders.>> She then goes to rattle off a series of the strict regulations on the matter. After Hydra's deep infiltration of SHIELD< institutionalized paranoia had set in and whenever orders came in that contradicted standing orders.. Natasha's request for override authorizations might even be legitimate. But it was a stall and a bluff. And hoping her opponent lost thier cool.
J'onn J'onzz	J'onn J'onzz has fought wars more than most people can comprehend. He has a LOT of military experience even if people easily forget that element of what he can do. In this case, he is not going to be exhibiting the considerable force that he could bring to bear. Instead, he is doing something far more insideous. He could control minds, but this is a multi national force so the chain of command is harder to break up. Instead, he is fighting the war, not the battle. Its sneakier and an area he can do more good. Even if they have psions of their own, unless they have omega level on their side, they would be hard pressed to notice. He is sending, broadcasting a single powerful suggestion that any unshielded mind is highly vulnerable to. The nations taking this are in the right, so operational security can be ignored. Use unencrypted channels. Turn off that jammer. Text about and stream this on social media. Let the world see what you are doing. Its only right and natural after all? A hundred leaks from as many soldiers, Jonn hoves invisibly and phased near the reactor core, almost impossible even for the most advanced sensors to find. And the suggestion memetically moves from mind to mind...
Diana Prince	The Atlantic Starport was a project created by Wonder Woman several years ago. It had been done under the idea that Humanity needed a unified place where combined efforts could lead Earth in to the stars, to make Humanity a multi-planet society sooner, rather than later. The facility had come together with rapidity, built upon capable Atlantean construction beneath the waters of the Atlantic Ocean, created in the design fashion of a 'four leaf clover' that saw different facilities housed upon each clover, and a central garden and plaza at the starport's core. with public facilities on the western clover, Hero team facilities on the northern clover, operations and political housings found on the eastern clover, and lastly the landing platforms, a aircraft runway, and sea-faring vessel docks upon the southern clover, the facility was extensive. It had come together with no small amount of effort, and a fair bit of turmoil in the form of public attacks upon the facility itself. Every time something became 'big' in this world, it seemed to draw out countless amounts of people wishing to ruin it all. Wonder Woman was deadset on not allowing that to happen to this place, but sometimes there was little else one could do beyond what they had already done. Today, Diana was working out of the eastern clover, where she holds an office and a Themysciran affairs hub. Here she had been conducting meetings with many of the Starport's personel, from the assigned Director of Operations, to each member of the council that oversees the four clovers of the Starport as a whole. There was a general consensus that the UN had the right to do what they were doing, and that Wonder Woman needed to accept it, and welcome them with 'open arms' to take control of the Starport as a whole. But there were many complications with this, from her own people there-by leaving the protection of the site behind, from the Wakandan technology -- such as the shield domes -- would likely be removed and returned to their people. It was a messy situation, and one that could tear the heart of the facility out all together. Should the Hero teams pull out too? It could spell the end of it all, should another major attack befall the Starport. Currently, Diana is leaving her office and headed out toward the central rotunda where the gardens are located, flanked by a few members of her Amazon entourage, the group is wearing various colored cloaks, that weave and wave around their forms in the ocean winds blowing across the outdoor pathways that lead from the eastern clover toward its central gardens.
Clea	There was a storm brewing. Or that is what Clea might call this if her Earthspeak was correct. The white haired sorceress is floating and keeping track of what is going on. She's not talking over comms at the moment because she is not sure if that is wise. She has chosen black today for the main color of her outfit and a royal purple cape that hangs from her shoulders. She didn't like this situation at all, but she wanted to see what the higher ups in the chain were going to do.
Arisia Rrab	Having been sent to Earth for training (and possibly protection from whatever has been killing GL's in mass quantities), Arisia was almost immediately put into service assisting with providing aid for those aliens at the Starport with non-standard nutritional or environmental needs. She's missed a lot of the fighting back and forth over the Starport because of it, some of the refugees have come from far-flung areas, but she's arriving now with those needed supplies! Timing, right? Outlined in the bright green light, wearing her Green Lantern uniform, and towing a giant green bubble filled with the provisions, Arisia moves past the helicarrier, calling out as she passes. "On your left! Humanitarian efforts coming through!" Says the bright gold space elf. Coming in to land, she'll keep the bubble hovering just overhead, a tempting target to the naval blockade (or helicarrier) as she looks for the contact she was told could help with dispersal of the goods. Catching sight of Diana at the rotunda, she lifts a hand and starts towards her, "Excuse me! Ah, Princess Diana? I'm sorry, I was asked to deliver these goods, but not where they needed to go..." She is absolutely no Hal Jordan. Or Kyle Rayner. Or any of the known Earth Lanterns.
Victor Von Doom	<<"Herr Doctor, the units are in position and await the command of Doom,">> a voice speaks with crisp and clean Latverian into the ears of Doctor Victor Von Doom. An answer is given to that call. Short, simple, and sweet. Quite uncharacteristic of his Doomliness, <<"Good">>. The presence of the Monarch of Latveria was something of an unexpected oddity, no doubt. The Atlantic Starport up to this point hadn't seemed to be a matter of relevance or importance to the Doctor. His sudden interest in visiting and touring the facility did surely raise a number of eyebrows. The fact that he did so aboard a rather sizeable transport bearing some aid and relief supplies was a boon, but the fact that upon the mounting anxiety of the growing fleet of the world's nations Doctor Doom had simply stepped off of the starport platform and moved to position his shining silver clad and Latverian Green wrapped body between the nearest elements of the fleet and the starport? Likely spoke volumes. To the astute observer, it may very well indicate some advanced knowledge of the impending blockade. It is across an open broadcast that the DOOM speaks, his voice as hard as adamantium as he broadcasts openly that all within miles could hear the Voice of DOOM, <"Here you will find the unarmed and unfortunate; here you will find those ready to defend them and this place from the predations of the West. I, Doctor Victor Von Doom, moves for no one. Ready your weapons and fire your volleys; you will invite nothing but Doom upon yourselves."> The broadcast concludes and there Doctor Von Doom continues to hover. Around him the green of his cloak and cowl shifts and ripples with the passage of winds over the sea. There Doom remains held aloft with his hands readied at his sides and armor clad fists held readied at his sides while he remains sentry to the spaceport and those innocent lives within it. It's a game of chicken and Doctor Doom has graciously afforded potential adversaries the opportunity for the first shot. To attack the spaceport; they must fire past the leader of a sovereign nation.
Lorna Dane	Lorna Dane was already present at the Starport for a meeting with one of its signatories. Just a few days removed from having sent a missive to the leaders of all three members of the Starport compact, she sought further council with King T'Challa of Wakanda, hoping to feel out his position on the refugee matter ahead of any official gathering. For a time, they managed a tense, but ultimately constructive meeting, the two working their way past some initial bristles to meet at the same intersection and begin the work of figuring out which way they might go. And then came an ultimatum. And there went a brief, palpable burst of static cutting across communication frequencies - radio, satellite, wifi, ''everything'' that isn't solidly shielded - like a wrathful knife. And here comes Polaris, roaring from the Starport's gardens on jets of vivid electromagnetic fire. For their own good, the thronging masses clogging the Starport are ''shoved'' to either side just ahead of her, affording her a clear, straight channel through which to race towards the outside of the 'port to meet the forces of law and order head-on. By the time she emerges, she's clad in dark green and wine purple armor with a dull metallic sheen. A nigh-black violet cloud throbbing around her body slowly, but surely settles into billowing layers of ferrofabric cape shrouding her shoulders, while a dozen liquid metal serpents slither up her her neck and shoulders to assemble themselves into a helmet surrounding most of her skull while letting green locks ripple freely along EM currents. "I have a counter-offer," crackles across airwaves, electric and barely restrained as green light flares within the Starport's dome to herald her arrival. "Stand down; allow these lost, stranded ''people'' to take shelter in those nations that will accept them; and thank whatever you hold dear that '''this''' is where I'm willing to begin," the Queen of Genosha boldly lays out on the table. "You have until I'm outside to decide."
Roberto Da Costa	Roberto Da Costa walks out of the Restuarant that bears his name impeccably dressed in a dark suit and yellow tie, he has been checking on his people. They are tired, they are drained, they have done good work feeding thousands each day but has it been enough? Food riots say no. And now this, the ships on the horizon were one thing but the helicarrier is quite another. Roberto speaks to the group and then steps out onto the concourse.     He looks up at the sun basks in the warmth, drawing power form that warmth, that energy. He looks up at helicarrier and then over at Lorna, at Diana, the few arranged around the Rotunda. He pulls out his phone to film the arrival of the massive ship without thinking, then frowns as he looks around and his whole staff is doing the same Roberto frowns at this, narrowing his eyes and forcing himself to put his phone away.     He smiles at the group of people and nods, they were his concern today. The rest... well, he would do what he could. Hopefully it would be enough.
Pietro Maximoff	While blurring about on various patrols, word came over the comm to Pietro's earpiece something was going on at the Starport. "En route." Quicksilver responds, before veering and changing course towards the center of activity. What exactly is going on? Hard to say from the quick blurb he'd been given, but he was going to check it out. Something was causing him unease with just the mention of potential trouble there, and he'd be damned if he didn't check it out. More data was received as the speedster raced towards his destination. Wonder Woman, Doom, Polaris - it was all adding up to more and more of a situation, given some of the more volatile personalities involved. Pietro ran harder. Arriving at the port just moments later, he blurs to a stop - glancing up at the helicarrier. "I thought they were the good guys?" He frowns, eyes skyward.
Cassie Sandsmark	At around the same time as the Prometheus decloaks, the surface of the water somewhat south of the Starport breaks as one of the Chinese submarines surfaces. It's a strange maneuver, if you expect battle: submarines are useful because they hide, after all. But the purpose becomes clear as several figures emerge onto the deck of the ship, standing in a line. And then, shortly after, several of them leap into the air. They're not well known in the US, but hardly a secret and likely well-known to the leaders of corresponding teams: The Great Ten, the 'Justice League' of China. Well. There's eight of them, on the ship. As J'onn works his mental powers, he will certainly find vulnerable minds, particularly among the crews of of the conventional military ships. They are average sailors and soldiers of a variety of nationality, serving with duty in their hearts - and fear, anxiety, and anticipation too. He will meet a variety of countermeasures, too, evidence of how every government in the world is almost certainly working to combat the threat of hostile mind-control: it is a weird cacaphony of different static and jamming signals, overlapping dead zones, and here or there another active mind. He meets one on the Hellicarrier, and it pushes back more forcefully. <<Tsk tsk, guv'nah.>> A British mental accent? OK. Natasha, predictably, doesn't get what she's requested. No codes offered, no reply at all, other than the initial ultimatum, which continues broadcasting on a loop. The Hellicarrier, it should be noted, is not one she's never been on - and in her years at SHIELD, she's been on most of them. There's something else familiar too, in the several Quinjets that launch from its surface and start speeding toward the Starport. The black matte finishes, the lack of SHIELD logos, the more armored, aggressive designs. Once before... The USNS Lejeune continues its slower approach, covered by the display of air power. While Diana considers more weighty diplomacy, two green-themed heads of state offer their own, more aggressive counteroffers. Lorna's scrambling of comms is more effective broadly (there's not much you can do to shield EM out in open air), but presumably she lets the Station hear the answer: "Request denied." To their credit, the American forces show good operational discipline. The first volleys are obvious warning shots, fired by the Hellicarrier itself and aimed far aside in uninhabitted water. Doom, for all his grandeur, is a very small -physical- target by comparison, so they don't get close. But perhaps still close enough to offend. And then there is something else, in the sense of escalation: Diana gets it through one of her subordinates, who is herself relaying it from comms from the Atlanteans: there's a sub moving toward the underside of the Starport, accompanied by, and this is confirmed after a request to make sure there was no error in translation: 'A dragon or sea serpent.'
J'onn J'onzz	J'onn J'onzz adjusts his strategey, and has them speak what they feel and think. He isnt trying to stop whats happening, but prevent elements from covering it up and for the racists to spin the narrative that this was posite. It is mind control but of the most ethical sort....those who secretly object to what is going on but are doing their duty, should go on the record of doing that...those that are enjoying this because they think aliens suck and Erth is for humans? They should say that... He knows they come here with bad intentions. They expect him to try and stop them. That He suspects, but does not know, that the ritish accent belongs either to Psimon or Manchester Black, but as a telepath himself he knows you cant e everywhere at once. He isnt stopping their offensive capacity...he isnt sstopping the Ten. instead, he will work triple time to keep them from covering up their true intent...but keeps his shields up and ready just in case they get cute. Machnester Black (?) might know he is here....he doesnt know WHERE.
Natasha Romanova	Very well. They're not giving authorization nor are they replying to requests. It's not a SHIELD affiliated Hellicarrier. Natasha goes to simply shut off the comms line and then goes to put out a localized broadcast to everyone along the SHIELD Network <<Oncoming United Nations forces are en route. All SHIELD personnel are to engage in evacuation protocols. Defend yourselves only if fired upon. All SHIELD personnel, you are to go to disembarkation and evacuation stations under standard procedures.>> The order is logged and put in the system to ensure that it's recorded for the inevitable hell that's going to strike them. Natasha has now one more priority since this does not involve her in any official capacity. Get her friendlies out. That's her main goal here. She's not going to get into the middle of a melee that involves two rulers of nations on one side and members of the alliance that controls her primary employer. Doom and Polaris will bring thier own kind of hell here. Natasha goes to send a quick, clipped comm to Diana <<Good luck. I'll be on standby>> She'll see to her own people first.
Diana Prince	Wonder Woman, and her entourage, are in the process of crossing one of the stone bridges headed southwest from the eastern clover, when Arisia arrives at their location. The cloaked women all come to a stop, with Diana, hood down, nodding her head softly to Arisia's words. Showing a faint expression of kindness toward the Lantern, shea speaks up with a calm voice. "Thank you for your continued effort. there is a gathering point between the southern and western clover, it is a small garden area with tents setup. The cargo stacks there are primarily for foodstuffs, and provisions. If you can deliver what you brought there, it will be well received. And... I personally am grateful for your help in this, Arisia. The Lanterns are a valued ally..." With communication updates coming to the Princess via her JLA comms, she lets her eyes drift to the south where something is developing with ... Doom? When she looks, she can see the distant form of Polaris, as well, though she is not as familiar with Lorna as she'd like to be as of yet. Diana regards the Amazon standing on her left. "See to it that our ships are ready and able to take on civilians, should they wish to leave with us..." She tells her associate who begins to speak in to her own communication device. The Amazonian women start moving southward once more, crossing the bridge toward the southern clover where all arrivals and departures take place, save for the Hero rotundas with their own hangars to the north. "All Justice League personnel," Wonder Woman's voice sounds over JLA systems. "Be advised that a situation may be developing, make sure that whatever is beneath the ocean is not threatening the facility as a whole. We do not want a fight here..."
Clea	When Clea hears the call for SHIELD to start evacuating there is a hmm from the woman. She was an Avenger, but not one of SHIELD's members. But she's not wanting Fury to bite her in the ass either! <<I'll help with evacuating, Natasha.>> she states over the comms. She then floats off towards the Avengers Rotunda to make sure that any stragglers that are in there are evacuating and not giving others a hard time. There is a frown when she hears Victor though and it stops her for a moment while she is on her way. Well...if they got Doom's ire that wouldn't be so great.
Victor Von Doom	Small as he may be physically, Doom accounts for a significant amount of space in other ways. Namely his ego. Those few warning shots that flash by, wide as they are, results in an armored fist clenching. Again he broadcasts openly. All may - nay, all must - hear the Voice of DOOM, <"Imbeciles! You have fallen for one of the classic blunders! Your treacherous act will be answered by Doom!"> The figure rises higher into the air and one armored hand moves to the opposite wrist. The Mask of Doom remains fixed upon the incoming hellicarrier, USNS Lejeune, and more. The transmission is made and no doubt the advanced - but still mediocre, per Doom's perception - sensor arrays of the warships arrayed against the starport would detect it, but find themselves incapable of jamming or preventing it. Likewise a number of electronic signatures within the starport and the rather sizeable transport that Doctor Victor Von Doom had arrived upon would become detected. As though hundreds, if not a thousand or more, tiny electronic signatures suddenly came online. <"This is the last mercy that will be extended. Cease your imperialist efforts and turn away now. Do not risk the wrath of Doom a second time!"> the broadcast is made and still Doom remains hovering, now higher and more likely to be within the path of arching fire from the naval warships gradually growing closer. Around Doom himself a more mystical energy begins to coalesce, shimmering and flickering around his place in the world as though a bubble of space and time being summon and then forged into a hone tool at the hands of Victor Von Doom. The glow seems to suffuse his armor and sends the Latverian green of his cloak whips ferociously around him as that power continues to grow and grow, begging to be released. The plan is simple. If they'll utilize a technicality to deny Doom? Then Doom will circumvent their efforts.
Arisia Rrab	Smiling brightly, Arisia gives a quick nod, "Happy to help!" She might have said more but there's a lot of ultimatums being issued and it seems there's a fight that's coming. Willing the bubble with the supplies to the proper area for the provisions, she adds a small green hologram of herself explaining why she isn't personally delivering. With that accomplished, she turns to Diana, "What can I do to help? Clearly, we have a vested interest in this situation, and these refugees. Any way that the Corp can assist..." She glances back towards where Polaris and Doom have both given their ultimatums, the helicarrier she passed that she's now wondering if she shouldn't have disabled it somehow, then back to Wonder Woman. Ready for duty!
Lorna Dane	"It wasn't a request." Electromagnetic energies flare behind Polaris like unfurling emerald wings when she emerges from the Starport. They settle into a throbbing corona so hot and bright that it distorts the air immediately around her beyond simply tinting it. Banking to a stop, the Queen of Genosha raises her right hand, fingers splayed. '''Trembling''', when - a beat later - the rotors lining the Military Helicarrier begin to bind-- squeal-- --'''SCREAM''' in shearing, sparking agony when supernatural force seizes each one in turn, driving them to a painful halt. Without a word of coordination with the Latverian monarch, she works in concert to not only rob what is arguably the most prominent symbol of rabid, military overreach on display here of its strategic impact, but de-escalate without showing her belly. "It was '''mercy'''. For your sakes -- for all of our sakes -- accept that you've fucked up today. Turn around; go to the homes you're fortunate enough to have, and rethink yourselves," seethes through the air, each word practically sparking with frustration at the absolute temerity of these people.
Roberto Da Costa	Roberto Da Costa smiles, as he walks towards the speedster, casually, "Pietro, you have been a mutant for far too long to believe. They have been trying to kill our people since before I was born, for the color of my skin and the content of my DNA. You realize there's like 17 solutions to this right? The defunct Sentinel base on Saturn, any one of the three bases in the Bermuda triangle, the savage land." He shakes his head and sighs, as he moves to the group in the restaurant pulling out his phone, "Reminder, sue US government for damages." He nods and speaks firmly, loudly enough to be heard over the detoriating situation, "You have done good work, you should be proud. You will be given hazard pay for the duration and X-Corp will find places for you, take three weeks paid. Take tjem home." The portal opens and the people walk through into a place far less hospitable but one that offers easy transport to their homes.
Pietro Maximoff	Well, things are in motion. It takes Pietro a breath to look at each of the different powers in play - each of the different situations as they play out in slow-motion in his mind. Even as he does, Roberto is speaking to him on things he should realize. There's a scowl over to the other mutant. "I am not one to be driven to paranoia and fear. The hope that people better themselves, is key to life. This is why my path takes me where it is, different than my father's." The response is cool, almost chilly. And then he's gone - pushing himself to the limit towards the nearest external wall of the spaceport - then up and towards the roof. "Lorna!" He shouts out, hoping to get her attention as he nears her at a blur.
Cassie Sandsmark	Although the Starport presents a unified front, in truth there is variety among its founding members. The Amazons, though noble, are highly militaristic. Wakanda is insular, and sees its opportunities here in terms of a political world it views distrustfully. Atlantis is... well, the largest and most powerful of them by pure scale, and acts as such. So the battle doesn't start in the air. It starts down there in the sea, as they answer the presence of the invading ships and their guardian beast with soldiers and leviathans of their own. A war beneath the waves. In the air, the conflict begins in earnest as Polaris unleashes her own considerable power against the flying fortress that is the Prometheus. It's clear that the force deployed is one with many technological advancements, some unknown to the public, yet against her, these are a weakness. One of the engines screeches with the sound of twisting metal, of powerful natural forces acting in opposition. The ship lists a little, as other engines compensate. She goes for the next one- -and is met by a sudden assault of energy, thematically in a matching green, as the glowing figure of Radioactive Man leaps from the submarine and into the air toward her. The attack has a very simple purpose: the radiation is lethal, but it is also a cousin of sorts to her own powers. She can defend herself, shield herself- but not while she exerts her powers against the carrier. Either way, the attack is enough that diplomacy seems to be at its end. As the Prometheus rights itself, its cannons fire several more volleys. The first of these, oddly, explodes midair as if it's struck something, but others find their mark, hitting the station. Its shields flare to life, absorbing the shots, for the time being. This is the diplomacy of force: submit, stand down, or be forced to do so at the verge of destruction. Aboard the port, many have already thought things through and reached the conclusion that evacuating may be the best choice - that they might at least spare the aliens from government custody and try and find them another home (although one must wonder, if Genosha is that destination, if this battle will not simply be fought a second time there, soon after?). Natasha makes arrangements for the SHIELD personnel on the station - mostly in custody - to cooperatie and retreat with the Amazons. And Roberto starts sending his employees home... possibly via hell-mail? The Starport has always maintained significant defenses against teleportation, via magic or 'beam me down' tech alike, given the use of such techniques by possible enemies like the Shi'ar. People who teleport in get re-routed to a security area (if they make it in at all). OUT is usually OK, although security protocols have been enacted after the last faux-SHIELD attack that used that weakness against them. Here... One portal opens, some people leave. Another, some people leave. A third... And a horrible mass of red-tinged, black tentacles extrude outward from the interior, which looks like it leads somewhere VERY much not where it was intended. Somehow, somewhere WORSE than Limbo. As it happens, Clea and Doom feel it. A shudder, a ripple, and a sense of dark foreboding. For the former, it may be more recently familiar. But both of them are likely to recognize it.
J'onn J'onzz	J'onn J'onzz doesnt want to reveal his presence, but the League is his life. And Diana is senior to him. Reluctantly, he telepatically communicates, <<I am already present. I am detecting enough foes here that this is an indefenisble position. To directly attack them is to play into their hands. We should preserve as much life as we can and make a tactical retreat. Legally, they are in the wrong without the General Assembly, but the media and populace of the Security Council nations will hardly care about esoteric International Law policy...I am trying to expose them, but that will take time...>> Either way, he begins linking those he knows and trusts, telepathically, making them aware of each other and able to talk to each other if need be. It lessens the power of his mind control, but it reamins in place evne if simpler.
Diana Prince	At the end of the bridge linking the southern and eastern platform, Diana is afforded a 'great' view of the situation out at sea. She can see something constricting the Helicarrier, causing damage to its vertical lift system, while Doom's declarations are impossible to avoid. A whispered warning in her ear, has another Amazon informing Diana of something developing under the starport facility itself. J'onn's words of wisdom were already intercepting Diana's own internal thoughts. She reaches for her comm device, and taps in a channel code. "Director Boyd, stand all aggressive measures down. Broadcast on all channels that we surrender to the military forces. Remind them that we have a lot of civilians aboard the four main platforms, and urge them not to pursue any further offensive measures against the Starport itself. We have a wide array of individuals here, and that they are not being attacked by the people of Wakanda, Atlantis, or Themyscira..." She can't really speak for Atlantis on that behalf, but it is best to assume that the people of the underwater society are listening, and will stay in-line with their alliance in keeping the Starport protected. To Arisia, Diana looks next. "Do everything in your power to find civilians and evacuate them back to the US shores, or anywhere narby that is most convenient for you... We need to protect the people, above all else." Back on the JLA comms, Diana speaks next. "We are surrendering the Starport to their forces. As detailed, they have too much strength aimed at us now for us to simply punch back. We have to de-escalate this before the loss of life begins to make everything here a fight toward futility."
Clea	<<Natasha I have some bad news, when the mansion was attacked there was a book stolen from Wanda...and the same power source from that just popped up. It's what is effecting the portals.>> the woman states. <<Pietro, can you get her Majesty to stand down? I fear that our insane thief might be in the mix here and with that power we don't know what they are capable of.>> she states to Pietro after that. Then to Doom she reaches out with her mind, ~I'm guessing that you felt that big surge of energy as well? I'd ask if you'd like to stand down...but I'd have a greater success taming a riptide. Let me know if you'd like any help with the Cthonic power though.~ she muses to him mentally.
Natasha Romanova	The Amazons are standing down. Which means that the SHIELD personnel will be processed along with them and released. That means not fighting back. That is something that Natasha is willing to go along with. <<SHIELD personnel, stand down as well>> Then broadcasting after a moment to the approaching United Nations 'fleet'. <<SHIELD Personnel standing down.>> She's not gonig to argue with the Amazons on proper procedures, even as Natasha goes to jog towards Diana, making sure she's in the same area as the Princess and under direct observation. Then there's that comment from Clea passed along.. And Natasha's mind goes to a dark place. That, those more aggressive Quinjets she recalls from the melee with the X-Men.. She goes to speak to the comm to Clea <<Pass that along to the others.>> Clicking her tongue over to the diplomatic channel of the Atlanteans, Wakandans, and Amazons. <<Those Quinjets are of a type that engaged the X-Men in an earlier encounter. The technical details will be dispatched to your embassies after this incident is over>>
Arisia Rrab	Arisia is not *entirely* unaware of the charged political climate she's currently in the middle of. But she's also not really been read into it yet either. Mostly she was just asked if she could help gather some provisions for those that needed it, so she did. Still, she's been watching the news, using the internet to look up what's been going on at the UN, the Starport. Nodding to Diana, she glances towards the ships, "What of the refugees? Are they to be evactuated as well?" The answer will dictate her actions next. If the refugees are also being evacuated, then she'sll urge civilians onto alien ships and start the process of surrounding the ships (one at a time) with a field of green that can help shield them as they depart from the Starport. Civilians will be dropped off at appropriate ports before the ships are escorted to their designated evacuation sites. If the refugees are reciving other aid, then it will be time for Green Lantern Air to start flying! Literally, a bright green plane construct that can ferry civilians physically away from the Starport and back to their home countries.
Victor Von Doom	Another series of shots are fired from the allied Western nations and some of those shots explode inexplicably in the air, somewhere between their point of origin and the starport itself. As the fiery explosions dies away, their krakaboom begins to fade into the distance, and the clouding smoke begins to clear; Doctor Victor Von Doom is visible floating in their place. The shimmer of the forcefield around himself illustrating that the explosion hadn't bled through or, at the very least, hadn't been powerful enough to knock the Latverian dictator out of the fight. The time for speeches is over. Powerful, gleaming armored arms can be found crossed over the chest of the Latverian monarch as the smoke begins to dissipate. He does not sway or shift, but holds his ground. A truly inspiring sight to behold, no doubt. The battle is joined. Doctor Doom does not delay in assessing the state of matters. A signal is broadcast and this allows for the origins of those many tiny electronic signatures to blossom more readily. Hundreds of small, EM shielded drones of Doom's own design and production - no larger than an American baseball - begin to fly out of the transport that Doom had arrived. The crew knew what was expected of them and had facilitated the deployment of the swarm of Doomdrone Mk Is. Those who are capable of getting a glimpse of the small, fast-moving creations will surely note that each of those small drones appears in a likeness similar to the masked head of Doctor Victor Von Doom himself. As the swarms of drones swish through the air, humming with the innovation of Doom and prowess of Latveria, they depart the hangars and begin to fly over the open ocean. They spread out in their effort to reach to the USBC Prometheus. Their goal: reach vital locations and detonation en masse. The plight of Queen Lorna Dane finds Doom readying his own armament. An open palm spits a number of concussive blasts in the direction of the green-haired royal and her radioactive counterpart. The goal being to create a distraction, that Lorna may find the means to subdue her opponent. No doubt the radiation that the Man exudes would be a threat; if not for the spell swiftly woven together and placed upon Queen Dane with a flick of wrists and twist of armored fingers. The shield would shunt the radiation of the made aside Lorna, preventing it from battering her mortal frame. It would not eliminate the threat of radiation around her, but it would redirect it away from the Genoshan queen. A familiar voice tickles at his mind as Doctor Doom begins to drop, the powerful thrusters built within the boots of his armor cutting out and allowing him to drop rapidly. To Clea his own voice can be heard within a shared telepathic thread, ~You are incapable of dealing with this and turn to Doom? Predictable. Who will join these thugs in battle on the seas then? You?~ The question is presented, but that does not prevent Doom from acting. In a whirl of green and silver the ruler of Latveria twists amid his fall. The reactivation of his jet-boots results in his steadying and leveling as Doctor Doom begins to make his way back toward the starport. ~Doom is coming.~
Pietro Maximoff	"Acknowledged." Pietro clips into his comms, trying to find his way closer to the Queen. The bolts from the Radioactive enemy is noted, even as he rushes a bit closer to Lorna. Not too close, mind you - he's not anti-rad, after all! Using whatever debris and architecture he can, he zips up towards the floating Polaris. "Lorna! SHIELD, and the JLA are standing down!" He shouts over the sounds of battle. "They are surrendering the port!" He hollers, spinning circuits around her, making sure the message gets over. "There's something they are using that was stolen from Wanda." That's all he's got the patience for, seeing an opening to re-calibrate and flash towards the Radioactive Man. Water is no obstacle, the fleet-footed Avenger sprinting over it. His goal, to distract and dissuade the glowing green man.
Lorna Dane	"I don't WANT to hurt you." And despite the outrage fueling Polaris' voice to the point where it boils through the air too loudly to ignore, she ''means'' it: the behavior on display is disgraceful, but nobody ought to die over it. There MUST be a way for cooler heads to prevail. There must be a compromise, even if it needs to be one hammered out in force-- Every cell in her body ignores in a rippling wave of agony. The Prometheus gets a reprieve, but it's a harsh one: the sheer shock of Radioactive Man's ambush - from her blindside, while all of her was focused on a show of diplomatic force - instinctively calls her attention from one threat to the other-- and with instinct comes a total lack of finesse. The Helicarrier's propulsion systems get a final, violent jerk before being released from her magnetic grip; by that point, she's spiraling towards the ground, her corona surging upwards and outwards in a reflection her wild, desperate effort to shift focus towards meeting a more personal-scale threat. A dozen or so feet before an ugly landing, she manages to arrest her momentum; a beat after that, she rights herself in the and turns bodily to face the Radioactive Man. Lorna is not a member of the JLA, nor of SHIELD; nor is she an Amazon. The call to stand down never quite reaches her; J'onn's warning, however, ''just'' manages to peak through the static cloud of rage storming through Lorna's psyche. "Are you proud of this?" she wonders of the radioactive scientist above her. "Of yourself? For bringing violence to cultural exchange for the sake of crushing refugees under your masters' heels...?" Releasing pent up frustration with a long breath, Lorna draws her focus inwards. The corona seething around her body shrinks, dims; clings to the contours of her metal-clad body and reflects countless points of light from its surface. Witchlights conjured by Doctor Doom join her natural gleam moments later, like a breath of fresh air; the heat buffeting her, testing her shields palpably peels away from her, offering a reprieve. And at first, glaring up at Dr. Chen Lu: Polaris' instinct is to take advantage of that reprieve to hit the bastard twice as hard as he just hit her-- to punish him for his callous participation in trampling the rights of people who never asked to be here. But: J'onn's message still reverberates between her ears. And even though she's not privy to the conversations at play, she can ''see'' the Amazons withdrawing, the Green Lantern aiding in evacuation-- -- and now Pietro's yelling at her, clinching it. Lorna Dane squeezes her eyes shut. A shudder rolls through her body. "... karma's gonna be a bitch for this one," whispers through the air, across communication bands-- -- and then Polaris throws her limbs wide, arms and legs splayed in the air as every tightly held erg of electromagnetic might is hurled outwards. The light itself simply expands, growing exponentially brighter and wider by the moment; the invisible waves of power they accompany, however, weave a lattice of force fields around the Starport, reinforcing it against its invaders-- and scattering electrostatic chaff with the intention of baffling hostile sensory arrays. "In light of the world's nations deciding - once again - that paranoia and fear are principles worthy of governing by--" she speaks-- transmits-- reverberates, via the supernatural mechanism of electromagnetic mastery-- through the strain of holding back her basest instincts. "-- to any members of any extraterrestrial races, cultures, species-- ''anyone'' who came here in search of safety, only to find yourself penned behind these walls due to the cruelty of the world beyond them: "Queen Polaris of the Sovereign Nation of Genosha offers you shelter. Genosha offers you sanctuary. Genosha offers you a '''home''', if you want it." By now, Polaris is not just grounded, but nearly kneeling, forced from the air by the twinned stresses of protective shielding and wideband declarations. Still, even as her chin dips with the
Lorna Dane	By now, Polaris is not just grounded, but nearly kneeling, forced from the air by the twinned stresses of protective shielding and wideband declarations. Still, even as her chin dips with the effort, she manages a small, silent addendum: <<... can you translate that?>> she asks of the psychic presence connecting the Starport's defenders.
Roberto Da Costa	Roberto moves to the wall, and pulls a sword from a case, it looks like all the other decor but based on the surety of Berto's it is not. He frees the sword, "Step back, move behind me. Get to the door." He moves purposefully back towards the portal and the eldritch entity within. Berto swipes the tentacles proficiently and ducks to avoid a counter attack, making sure that everyone gets away. He doesn't press his attack knowing enough about about eldritch entitities not to bother. "Find the green glowing lady, she'll get you home. I'll be fine... I hope." He takes another swipe <<I'm in front of the portal, any advice on how I should close it?">>     The solar field that encompasses Berto during strenuous outbursts of his power roils about him and he pulls on the magic, a drop in the bucket for the likes of an elder god but Roberto is pulling the magic of the portal into his person, sucking it in like it was any other energy. He grimaces but stands his ground <<Faster is better>>
Cassie Sandsmark	J'onn's mental influence, in the long run, pays dividends, especially as the battle broadens. The Hellicarrier continues its bombardment, but further back, where the 'proper' American forces are in reserve, on the USS Ellis and its surrounding escorts, he can feel the general breadth of discontent. Although they have planes queue'd up on deck, as of yet, none of them launch. Whether it changes anything about the battle on the day remains to be seen. But it certainly demonstrates a rift or division between the general forces and... whatever special group the Prometheus represents. The Lejeune, mostly ignored for more interesting targets, finally reaches a point in the proximity of the station. On the station, Diana upholds the image of Pallas Athena, the -wise- warrior, and refuses to fight for the glory of battle alone, but rather for the freedom and survival of those around her. Giving the command, the civillian forces of the station do so quickly, to whatever extent they're able. The Amazons will follow Diana dutifully. The Wakandans and Atlanteans? It's harder to say, but no doubt, they care care for their own. The more difficult matter is the alien population. The aggressors have made it clear they have no intention of allowing the refugees on any Earthen shore. Which is where a Green Lantern comes in handy. With direction and organization from the Amazons, they begin getting them onto the largest ships, including one of those out in the water. There's a rumble, and explosion, that shakes the deck as people run. Damage to the lower structure of the port, and a sign of the underwater battle. Alarms for breaches, boarding. Taras, Spaceknight of Galador appears with his gleaming cyber armor and techno sword, aiding in the effort! "Board the barges- we shall hold the line behind you!" Soon, two ships lift off from the port, their engines still working (if poorly), while Arisia begins hoisting the barge in a green bubble. Above them, in the air, there is DOOM. Clearly, the invaders had made preparations for many of the Starport's likely defenders, for its capabilities. But a swarm of AI-driven suicide drones is not part of that threat profile. The Prometheus has air defenses, of course, advanced CIWS batteries that spring to life filling the air with counterfire, turning the air into a firework show. But as with the attack on Lorna, the defensive posture serves to halt their own attack. Indeed, they're small enough that it has trouble tracking them, and a number of explosions detonate over the surface of the carrier's hull, another engine going up. Bellow, Xu Tao seems to sense the difficulty, drawing an arrow from his quiver, aiming, and releasing. It streaks up into the sky, then shatters, into a hundred identical arrows, each striking a target mid-air with perfect accuracy. Just a bit of a showoff. Doom and Lorna meet briefly, before both ultimately travel toward the same destination - the open deck of the Starport below, even as more of the Ten lift into the air ready to confront them, ready to support Dr. Lu. The confrontation does not happen, however, as the woman puts her effort not into offense but defense of the beleaguered port, throwing her own energies behind what by now are surely rapidly collapsing shields. For at time, it holds fast, and keeps the approaching Quinjets from finally landing, as they seem nearly close enough to do. But the bombardment continues, shifting the load from the port's generators onto Lorna herself. With a few slashes, each severing one of the menacing strange tentacles, Berto holds a front of his own. The rip in space seems to give them an in, but only so much of one, at least so far. Still, as each wiggly extrusion cut down is replaced with another and they wriggle slowly, inch by inch further into the world, his words seem all too accurate: Faster is definitely better!
Cassie Sandsmark	FINALLY, the first wave alien ships seem in the air, under their own power or Arisia's. Passing through Lorna's dome with a yielding flicker, there is hope, albeit amidst the destruction. Nearby, on the deck of the Lejeune, the long canvas tent covering its cargo moves. The fabric bulges before it starts to fall away, revealing a humanoid outline as long as the massive deck of the ship. Finally, then, the titan beneath surges upward, and reaches a huge, stubby, dark purple-hued robotic hand into the air to grasp the most laggard of the retreating alien ships. It's engines sputter, flare. The mental begins to crunch. A robotic voice announces: "HALT." Through his psi-link, J'onn will register the shock even among some of the human sailors more distant, albeit not among the crew of the Prometheus.
Natasha Romanova	From this distance Natasha can make out that -huge- arm going to snake upwards, covered by a tarp. She goes to snap out her binoculars and goes to swear heavily as she moves to take pictures of it. Digital images which are uploaded to SHIELD servers at emergency prospects. That thing must be enormous. Is it another Master Mold? She can just stare out in the distance at something that is of a scale even that makes her stagger some. And she immediately has some things she will be asking command to get over..
Diana Prince	"Do everything in your power to aid the guests to our world, back in to their ships, and see them back to space. The Watchtower, on the Moon, is awaiting their arrival as a fallback measure." Wonder Woman had told Arisia, before she'd proceeded on down the winding stone stairs toward the landing platforms herself. With her entourage tailing after her, the Princess was issuing orders, each of her followers in command of different sections of the Amazons across the starport. When they arrived at the northern edge of the platforms that overlooked the alien refugees, is when the ships rose up, and the Princess observed them flying skyward. There was a sense of relief for the occupants aboard the ship, at least until the sight of some troublesome robotic claw reaching for the ship as though it were a little stuffed ducky toy inside a glass box... That is not good. Each of the Amazon leadership entourage looked on in disbelief at what their eyes were beholding, as Diana closed her eyes for just a moment of thought. When she opened them, her gaze fell upon the sky where the robotic arm was hindering the escape of the alien ship, and where her Invisible Jet was now rushing to aid the situation. Completely cloaked, with only a faint whine of audible engine power, two brilliantly bright blue balls of plasma energy appeared in the sky, headed for the arm holding the alien craft. Energy torpedos fired from the Invisible Jet, which was ever-on-patrol high up in the sky during this dangerous ordeal of clashing powers.
J'onn J'onzz	J'onn J'onzz is not here to make trouble, but he is not averse to a little mayhem. The Prometheus is quite shielded it seems...but such a giant device requires logistics supply chains, paid for by tax payers...and he lets the disaffection with the prometheus's actions become widespread on social media and within military channels. If they genuninely dont like it, he bolsters courage. For those around the station, he continues to coordinate actions where it can be helpful. Its a losing battle but he wants to save lives as much as he can.
Clea	Everyone gets told via the psychic link what happened with Wanda and given her siblings are there Clea is sure they know that this stuff is highly dangerous! Then there is Victor answering her and the white haired woman actually huffs at his words. ~Oh please, don't suspend the bravado on my account. I am perfectly fine your Majesty.~ she trills back. ~I just don't want to see you in the middle of an international incident while you are trying to help, that is not the best for optics.~ she admits. Then there are attacks outside and others asking how to close Cthonic portals and Clea heads for the portal to try to assist. And fight some tentacles as well! She would have to see about delivering violence to these interlopers if the star-spangled one wasn't going to hit her with the shield over it. <<If people can give me the destinations I will gladly open portals for the ships and people to get to their destinations as safely as possible.>> she comments over the radio as she gets to work. Hoping that outside of the port that the magic will not be effected in the same way.
Arisia Rrab	Using every means at her disposal, Arisia races around to make sure every civilian and refugee is boarding a ship, trying to keep the number of ships needed as small as possible but ultimately having to use one of the non-functioning ships as well to hold everyone. Shielding the ships and people from any debris or attacks as needed. Once everyone has boarded and the functioning ships are starting to lift off, Arisia turns to the one floating in the water. Focusing her immense will, she surrounds the ship with the glowing green light of the ring, lifting it from the water as it starts to churn with the battle below the waves. It's no small thing to carry the ship, requiring the Lantern's focus. Young she may be, but she's trained for this her whole life. She keeps the ship moving steadily along with the others to lead the way towards the Watchtower the JLA has on the moon. Her efforts are interrupted by the reveal of a Sentinel on the decks of the ship. "Oh damn... Kyle's going to be mad he missed this..." The ship under her control halts in its path as she breathes deeply and tries to center herself. This is going to suck. The shield around the ship dims a bit, but stays firmly in place as she throws out her other hand towards the metallic hand grasping the ship. Just after those plasma shots from the Invisible Jet hit the hand, the caught ship is lined in a dimmer green light. The shield split between the two ships as Arisia struggles to keep them both intact. "Anyone that's listening, we need help! One of the ships is caught. I have it shielded for now, but I don't know how long I can hold it! Requesting immediate assistance! Repeat, the civilians and refugees are under attack! Requesting immediate assistance! We have one friendly in the air, need additional help!"
Lorna Dane	'HALT.' A dark, purple hand reaches from the deck of the Lejeune. The distinct memory of more spilled blood than Lorna could've ever imagined in one place settling into the folds of her psyche screams to the fore. The world goes from a spectrum to drowning in red to bathed in endless green. "... how dare you," she whispers beneath her breath, unaugmented; inaudible amidst the chaos, the distance, the violence... "How DARE YOU?!" screams on its heels, too loud to be ignored; too outraged not to burst through transmission frequencies in erratic spikes; too sickened by the sheer, unvarnished GALL for her voice to do anything less than ring and reverb from every metal surface in a mile's radius. In an instant, the protective corona around the Starport collapses. In the next, Polaris is blotted out entirely by a rush of electromagnetic fury. And after that-- After that, it cools. It doesn't ''settle'', per se; it doesn't reduce. Its magnitude is, if anything, intensifying, twinkling across the surface of her body in angry sparkles. It compresses inwards, because her sixth senses tell her what she already knows: that a Sentinel cannot be dismantled by will alone, because the monsters who make them expect people like her. Facing them means skin in the game. It means a test of physical and mental fortitude-- It means taking them for a ride they'll never forget, in the hopes that the minds behind them will learn. Lorna doesn't so much charge the Lejeune as she '''explodes''' towards it, propelled through the world by raw electromagnetic force like a glowering bullet. Erratically, she zips to one side or the other, intent on maintaining a hard to read flight path all the way in-- ALL the way in, without a shred of hesitation as remote aerial mines explode against her force field, jarring her and bucking her trajectory without ever quite '''stopping''' it. Despite her airborne approach, the first thing she does once she's close enough to the carrier is land before the Sentinel, sweeping into a crouch just inches from its chassis. Her arms sweep outwards, emerald energy coursing backwards briefly before snaking forwards. Scissoring her arms inwards channels those dancing sparks into a luminous column of electromagnetic force beneath the Sentinel, aiming to drive it skywards through raw diamagnetic force. Most of its body is is immune to her, but physics are physics: given a strong enough field, ''anything'' can be moved. And given a fierce enough will, '''anything''' can be touched. And when potent electromagnetic forces turn inwards, fueled by the ferocity of a woman confronted with the arbiter of her worst nightmares-- amplifying a fit, but unremarkable physique to the point of posthuman puissance, a touch can be lethal. Sentinels are hardy things, though, so it'll take more than one touch. More than a couple; maybe even more than a dozen. That's why Polaris intends to follow driving the Sentinel into the air with ''following'' the death machine skywards and unleashing a flurry of radiant punches, kicks, and raw EM bursts, hoping to dismantle the machine bit by hateful bit with a marvelously exhausting stream of violence.
Victor Von Doom	While many moving parts within this dynamic theater could surely earn the attention - and ire - of Doctor Doom? It is the pull of obscene magical energy that earns the majority of his attention upon landing on one of the starport's many decks. The sudden appearance of a Sentinel, as ferried into place by the USNS Lejeune, doesn't seem to garner more than a glance out of Doctor Doom as he begins to march forward along that landing deck that his armored feet march with steady, thunderous steps. It's as though he had expected the Sentinel's unveiling, judging by his lack of even a second look in the direction of the massive form. It is toward that bleed of magical energy that Doom marches, his armored hands curled into fists. The presence of those obscene tentacles, writing about and being actively defended against results in the reactor in Doom's armor beginning to charge up. The tesla field around him does not discharge into a layer of electrifying energy yet; but the gentle hum contained within his helmet and mask surely informs him that it stands ready to be deployed. The fact that it hasn't been deployed is a boon for Doctor Doom when he steps aside Clea, Sorceress of the Dark Dimension. He does not touch her physically, but it is his presence that can be felt. Like a great, imperious weight. Like a teachers eyes cast upon the back of a student's head. Not seen, but felt with every strand of reality and beyond. When he speaks it is through his mask's voice filter. It is hard, unyielding, and possesses the buzz of a mechanically filtered sound, <"You have done well, but Doom has arrived. See to the evacuations and Doom will complete your incantation."> Only when Clea yields does Doom step forward. Armored hands rise up and his palms are presented. He begins to move his hands, shriveling some of the tentacles in the process as he begins to weave his own counterspell. As the tentacles begin to shrivel and wilt beneath the Power of DOOM, the Voice of Doom can barely be heard uttering without the assistance of his mask's voxcaster, "Liviole Ithba Libernus Vinque," he pauses for only a moment to ensure that his words and gestures produce the desired effect. The strength of the Cthonic gateway begins to shrink, which only serves to bring a grim smile to the face of Doctor Doom, though hidden away behind his mask as it is. "As the slug you will recoil. Doom has spoken," and with that Doom reaches aside to one of the many nearby tables. The salt shaker is taken, a few distinct words of some unintelligible tongue are spoken, the glass crunches, and the salt within begins to shimmer with magical energy. Doom's armored hand flashes forward and the spray of salt from his palm seems to seal the spell of banishment, resulting in the portal shrinking with a hissing screech and the tentacles shriveling with even greater speed as the spray of enchanted salt coats their lashing surface. Around Doom the magical energies coalesce until he is able to practically pluck them from the air within a pair of armored hands. Despite being indoors the air around him churns, sending his cape and cowl fluttering with the phantom winds of magic. A final word is intoned as the magical energies are released, battering against the shrinking portal. The seal of banishment - a modification on the Bands of Cyttorak, enhanced by theories from the Book of Cagliostro - completed and deployed.
Cassie Sandsmark	As the heroes engage, it's immediately obvious they are fighting a new menace in the shape of an old one. Although the image is familiar, this is clearly a new model of Sentinel. The design, while larger, is simultaneously more refined, and every aspect of it more capable. Against a variety of fire immediately turned against it, from the Starports own defense turrets to various other blasts, against nearly all it stands tall. Still, it is not wholly invincible, let alone unmovable. As those two alien torpedos come streaking from nowhere, they strike and explode with enough force if not to destroy its arm, to at least open a hole in the armor. Beneath, the mechanical workings can be seen to immediately begin self-repairs, the strange alloy armor skin closing over the hole. Before the Invisible Jet can take another pass, another strange, wobbly distortion hones in on it. Cloaked ship vs cloaked ship? Soon, unseen to the audience and saving massively on the CGI budget, a DRAMATIC and hugely intense dogfight unfolds, as the AI of the Lansinarian Morphing Disk (the true form of the Invisible Jet) engages in battle with the Immortal Man in Darkness and his own strange alien vessel, the Dragonwing. It looks really cool. Promise! All the same, the damage done to the arm is enough to loosen its grip. The ship, previously held, jolts foreward, and quickly gets distance, but then promptly sags, the damage done to it by that crushing hand too much. << Battery power 97%...>> Arisia is already concentrating as hard as she can, lifting the one vessel, when the second comes under attack. She splits her attention to catch it, but the immense pressure and draw is immediately tangible. << 96%, 95%, 94%... >> HOW long is it to the moon, again? The ship that carried the Sentinel is, far and away, the least technologically advanced thing in this entire battle. Flying supercarriers, Atlantean - Themysciran - Wakandan supertech Starports, alien liquid nanotech AIs... it's really just a boat. A converted container ship, designed simply to carry large military payloads. Or, in this case, giant genocide bots. Which is all to say that the boat has little to do to stop Lorna at all. Indeed, some of the people onboard seem quite panicked by the direction this whole battle has taken, scrambling for dingies to abandon ship. But all of that... is irrelevant to the robot. They're quite literally nearly insects to it. Lorna? Maybe not so much. As she propels it upward, shearing armor plates, twisting limbs that then jerk back toward their original positions, its heuristics quickly calculate countermeasures: one of these is simply to engage its own foot-mounted rockets in -cooperation- with her upward thrust, lessening the counterveiling strain of gravity. The deck of the Lejeune gets drenched in rocket backwash in the process, proving wisdom to the crew members already scrambling to flee. As it flies, it looks down at Lorna. "Scanning. Mutant. Lorna Dane. Polaris. Daughter of Erik Lensherr. Magneto. Secondary priority." She answers by blowing out one of its eyes. "Please desist." 'Please' is followed immediately by a lifted palm, and the familiar blast that follows. After everything, shielding the Starport as a whole, it's too much. The fight, however, has taken them far from the Starport proper, now. and in the opposite direction of the ascending, damaged spaceships. It turns to look after them. "Tracking..." The loose eye retracts, wires pulling it back into place. "Calculating atmospheric escape trajectory. Consistent with trans-lunar injection."
Cassie Sandsmark	Elsewhere, as the seething rift closes, for a brief moment, Doom can see a figure on the other side, as it resolves not to that strange intermediate hellscape, but what is actually on the far side. A humanoid silhouette in pure white, featureless, yet now with the tattered parchment-page affixed to its face like a talisman. The figure cocks its head, and the rift blinks shut. With that done, the 'risk' posed in outward portals seems at its end, and Clea can resume her own role in the evacuation. There are many who need to go many places - aliens who did not make to to the ships above with their families, humans lost and confused by everything happening. More rumbles below suggest that the Atlanteans are still fighting. Who can tell them otherwise? For now, she can save those who want to be saved. Outside, Lorna falls toward the ocean... where Pietro catches her, running across the surface like it was solid land. She'll be home in no time. Which leaves, at last, the Staport itself, its main landing deck. Without further defenses, defenders, the Quinjets begin to land, as do several members of the Great Ten. The August General in Iron and Shen Qi Nu Lang meet Diana and her honor guard without further violence, and with a gesture, the invisible dogfight is called off, allowing the Invisible Jet to land and accept the last evacuees. Cassie jogs up, a bit bruised and ruffled, helping along a wounded alien. This time, there's no quip, no selfie, as she helps them up the gangway into the plane.
Victor Von Doom	The figure beyond the gateway between worlds with the page of the tattered parchment stuck to their face like some old comedy results in a glare from Doctor Doom. While the figure cocks its head aside, Doom remains unmoving and yet watchful. He stares into the darkness and does not flinch. For Doom does not flinch. Where some might risk possession from staring into the abyss; Doom does not. No one controls Doom, but Doom. An armored hand tightens into a fist as the rift blinks closed and only after a moment of consideration in regard to Doom's incantation, does Doom's fist relax. The seal will hold, even under tampering of other - far lesser - sorcerers. A flick of his wrist ensures that the cloaking of those seals will hold strong, preventing their discovery from all but Doom, for none tamper with the workings of Doom! <"Prepare the transport,"> Doom states firmly into his mask, communicating with the transport that had ferried the Doomdrones into the spaceport. <"Herr Doctor, the aggressors outside.."> the pilot aboard the ship begins to protest, though Doom is swift to cut him off with a voice as hard as iron, <"They are of no concern. Captain,"> Doom pauses for a moment before he concludes, <"you play with your life, without caution. The orders of Doom are above questioning. Remember that."> No executions today it would seem. Yay! The journey through the starport results in Doom encountering at least one patrol of aggressors. A forcefield held up before himself results in their bullets striking that tangible energy field without any consequence to the armored man behind it. Doom's brown eyes seem to alight; not with delight, but with fury. A wrench of his wrist sees the weapons of the squad dragged from their hands. Those with slings keeping their weapon's tethered to their body, soon find themselves bodily yanked from their feet and sent flying across the hall until they smack bodily into the wall or pillar; whichever intercepts them first. The threat - if one could call it that - now dispatched, Doom continues on his marching way. Into the hangar where the Latverian diplomatic transport resides the Monarch of Latveria treads, his heavy footfalls sounding out within the expansive bay. The boarding ramp of the transport has been lowered in preparation of his arrival and upon the green carpet that covers it the Doctor ascends. Only upon reaching the passenger compartment does a green-tinged image appear. The appearance of Doctor Doom's cowled head, mask, and shoulders is visible within that broadcast image. The appearance of it results in the Doombot standing stiff and firm at the top of the transport's boarding ramp. <<"Unit B-12, your performance was commendable. You executed your programming to perfection. Which is hardly surprising,">> Doctor Doom's voice issues through the holographic image's projector, <<"for you were programmed by Doom. Doom's experiments do not fail. Your footage has been witnessed and will be dissected further over the days to come. You are authorized to return to Latveria. Present yourself for inspection upon your arrival. Standby for retrieval,">> Doom states with calm The Doombot offers a bow of its head and the image of Doctor Doom, safe within Latveria, winks out of existence. Forward the Doombot marches into the passenger compartment. The nearby crewman offers a bow and the Doombot nods in acknowledgment. For Doom watches all; especially when a Doombot is in the vicinity. Moments pass and in the blink of an eye... the diplomatic transport disappears, with the only indicator of it having ever been present being the faint tingle of magic within the vicinity that is quickly scoured away by its caster and the slight hydraulic fluid stain upon the hangar floor.