{closed} // shoulda been, coulda been, woulda been dead
Characters: Lois Lane, Andrew Wells, Logan Cale, Buffy Summers, Jacen Solo, Stefan Salvatore, Riley Finn, Natasha Romanova, Xander Harris, Spike, Beck, Zekk, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Cordelia Chase
Location: the lower levels
Planet: Coruscant
When: Sunset, Wednesday evening
What: Entry into the warehouse, and subthreads for the teams to complete their individual tasks. Commenting will be done in actionspam format unless all members of the team agree to prose.
Rating: PG-13 for violence.
With the sun setting low over the cityscape, the inside of the warehouse is well-shadowed by now. In fact, it looks dirtier than it ever has in that light; it's just enough to reflect off the dirty windows, but not enough to cast real light into the grimy, poorly kept rooms.
The team on the ground moved in one large group to the back entrance -- a shipping bay, where shipments of Yoda-knows-what were received, at the direction of those up in Watchtower. They had all been outfitted with cameras and microphones on their clothing to make sure that everything they did would be monitored as a preemptive means of self defense if public opinion decided to backlash against them after this was over -- Lois' idea. She'd get acres of credit later.
For now, they were waiting at the back entrance of the shipping area for the lights to go out and signal game-on. Watchtower did a countdown in their ears via datapad transmission. 3 … 2 … 1 …
Darkness. Time to make their move. They'd break in the back door of the shipping area now that the front entrances were sealed since there was no power to them. This was officially the only way in or out, and it meant they'd have a hella easy time watching their backs.
Location: the lower levels
Planet: Coruscant
When: Sunset, Wednesday evening
What: Entry into the warehouse, and subthreads for the teams to complete their individual tasks. Commenting will be done in actionspam format unless all members of the team agree to prose.
Rating: PG-13 for violence.
With the sun setting low over the cityscape, the inside of the warehouse is well-shadowed by now. In fact, it looks dirtier than it ever has in that light; it's just enough to reflect off the dirty windows, but not enough to cast real light into the grimy, poorly kept rooms.
The team on the ground moved in one large group to the back entrance -- a shipping bay, where shipments of Yoda-knows-what were received, at the direction of those up in Watchtower. They had all been outfitted with cameras and microphones on their clothing to make sure that everything they did would be monitored as a preemptive means of self defense if public opinion decided to backlash against them after this was over -- Lois' idea. She'd get acres of credit later.
For now, they were waiting at the back entrance of the shipping area for the lights to go out and signal game-on. Watchtower did a countdown in their ears via datapad transmission. 3 … 2 … 1 …
Darkness. Time to make their move. They'd break in the back door of the shipping area now that the front entrances were sealed since there was no power to them. This was officially the only way in or out, and it meant they'd have a hella easy time watching their backs.