Scene #1158: Dropship Inbound

Owner	Pose
Aloisia Stauss	An event that had been building over the past week, knowledge of its arrival not exactly surprising. Until it got closer, that is. There was clearly a magical source for whatever was happening, that ominous feeling that something was about to kick off as a streak of blue flew across the sky, and then down towards one of the parks in the Juban District of Tokyo. Luckily with knowledge of the incoming heavenly object, it was a relatively easy thing to evacuate the area where it was projected to fall and have people go elsewhere, at least temporarily. Sure, most meteorites burn up in space but just in case of it NOT doing that, it was best to have the area cleared. As that streak of blue fire approached the district, it began to grow more visible. The shape in the fire was some sort of ship, one that certain people with historical belkan knowledge might recognize. A 'Warscythe' class assault ship, an ancient ship bordering on old enough to be considered Lost Logia in its own right, it had been designed for aggressive boarding and direct assault of other ships and its shape was reminiscent of that need. What was left of it at least. The front of the ship -- the most hardened point, mostly melted and torn to pieces, resembled the front of a giant cross-shaped arrowhead. The back half of it was missing, either torn off or melted in re-entry. Something had sent it into a wild spin on re-entry as well, the heavily damaged ship almost like a drill at this point, something it's NOT supposed to due to stabilizing magic. In spite of this wild spin, whoever was onboard the ship was still seemingly doing their best to minimize damage in spite of the fact there's not much way anyone inside wouldn't be being flung around constantly. A series of belkan-style shields were appearing in front of the ship on its crash trajectory, trying to slow it, to do SOMETHING, anything, to reduce the effects of what was to come. They were questionably effective though, as the ship designed to penetrate armor was showing its main strength in penetrating those shields almost as fast as they pop up. There was still a short amount of time for preparation to attempt to assist -- or destroy -- what was presently an incoming magical missile. Mere minutes though it may be, minutes was an eternity in an emergency like this.
Hannah Steiner	Hannah Emilia-Lina Araki-Steiner the Fourteenth just wanted some tea. She's leaned into a comfy chair in a comfy little Juban teahouse, using what little money her RHA stipend has given her to indulge in the local's lovely sense of warm drinks. Lyra is half consuming her lap, and she in turn is rubbing said feathery monstrosity's head with all signs of affection, until her Device pings her. She...ignores it. Ping. PING. She well knows that Blauer Greif isn't the type to mentally prod her without good reason. She very nearly drops her teacup as the information flows into her brain, and she's suddenly slapping down cash amidst almost turning over the table in her taste. Stumble. She curses in Belkan, and pulls out her phone. It might be telling that she has Chrono's number on speed dial. "Herr Harlaown!" Starts the young woman. "Sankt help us, we've an /ANTIQUE/ incoming, und you may wish to be present. By Her Grace, let us see to it that we can help the pilot to a hospital rather than scraping them out of the cockpit!" Comes the young woman, ducking into an alleyway, and transforming with a swiftness!

Owner

Pose

An event that had been building over the past week, knowledge of its arrival not exactly surprising. Until it got closer, that is. There was clearly a magical source for whatever was happening, that ominous feeling that something was about to kick off as a streak of blue flew across the sky, and then down towards one of the parks in the Juban District of Tokyo.

Luckily with knowledge of the incoming heavenly object, it was a relatively easy thing to evacuate the area where it was projected to fall and have people go elsewhere, at least temporarily. Sure, most meteorites burn up in space but just in case of it NOT doing that, it was best to have the area cleared. As that streak of blue fire approached the district, it began to grow more visible.

The shape in the fire was some sort of ship, one that certain people with historical belkan knowledge might recognize. A 'Warscythe' class assault ship, an ancient ship bordering on old enough to be considered Lost Logia in its own right, it had been designed for aggressive boarding and direct assault of other ships and its shape was reminiscent of that need. What was left of it at least. The front of the ship -- the most hardened point, mostly melted and torn to pieces, resembled the front of a giant cross-shaped arrowhead. The back half of it was missing, either torn off or melted in re-entry.

Something had sent it into a wild spin on re-entry as well, the heavily damaged ship almost like a drill at this point, something it's NOT supposed to due to stabilizing magic. In spite of this wild spin, whoever was onboard the ship was still seemingly doing their best to minimize damage in spite of the fact there's not much way anyone inside wouldn't be being flung around constantly.

A series of belkan-style shields were appearing in front of the ship on its crash trajectory, trying to slow it, to do SOMETHING, anything, to reduce the effects of what was to come. They were questionably effective though, as the ship designed to penetrate armor was showing its main strength in penetrating those shields almost as fast as they pop up.

There was still a short amount of time for preparation to attempt to assist -- or destroy -- what was presently an incoming magical missile. Mere minutes though it may be, minutes was an eternity in an emergency like this.

Hannah Steiner

Hannah Emilia-Lina Araki-Steiner the Fourteenth just wanted some tea. She's leaned into a comfy chair in a comfy little Juban teahouse, using what little money her RHA stipend has given her to indulge in the local's lovely sense of warm drinks. Lyra is half consuming her lap, and she in turn is rubbing said feathery monstrosity's head with all signs of affection, until her Device pings her. She...ignores it. Ping. PING.

She well knows that Blauer Greif isn't the type to mentally prod her without good reason. She very nearly drops her teacup as the information flows into her brain, and she's suddenly slapping down cash amidst almost turning over the table in her taste. Stumble.

She curses in Belkan, and pulls out her phone. It might be telling that she has Chrono's number on speed dial.

"Herr Harlaown!" Starts the young woman.

"Sankt help us, we've an /ANTIQUE/ incoming, und you may wish to be present. By Her Grace, let us see to it that we can help the pilot to a hospital rather than scraping them out of the cockpit!" Comes the young woman, ducking into an alleyway, and transforming with a swiftness!