The Global Guardians on September 11, 2001

[Mentor]

Re: The Global Guardians on September 11, 2001

 

I am so impressed with the absolute emotional honesty and compassion in these stories while still keeping in character. Thanks to everyone who shared these stories. Thanks for doing this, Jack.

[Guest Worldmaker]

Re: The Global Guardians on September 11, 2001

 

Achilles. Written by Andy Mathews, player of Achilles.

 

 

Personal Note: I was working for a newspaper on this day. I remember being called in early and I remember sifting through images moving across the AP wire. While most of that day, and several that followed, is little more than a blur. I remember these emotions all mixed together: sorrow and shock from the event and the death and pain that it caused; anger at those responsible; pride at the way that people put aside themselves and served those around them. I tried to capture all of that in this. Writing this wasn't easy; and it certainly brought up remembrances from that time that I had thought buried. Thanks for reading.

 

"An event has happened, upon which it is difficult to speak, and impossible to be silent." Edmund Burke

 

*****

 

Achilles felt the discomfort of the teleportation as he arrived on site. Tachyon was already here, doing what he could to help. Achilles looked up and ... "Jesus." He said, his mouth agape in surprise and horror.

 

Achilles stood stunned, staring for a long moment. His mind not ready to fully accept the events he had seen transmitted via television moments before. He snapped to when he heard the first screams for help from the building. The screams seemed very far away, almost floating down to him.

 

Achilles turned and surveyed the area - he took off toward the water front. About three blocks away, he found what he was looking for: The Baby Shamu Night Club. He kicked in the door without thinking twice, shutting off the alarm from the mangers office. He checked the wall facing the towers, it was covered in brick, not in glass.

 

Behind the bar was plenty of running water and alcohol - should that be necessary. In short order, he began setting up a field hospital.

 

**Melody - when you get the chance, I need a medical package transported to this location. But only after everyone is on-site.**

 

**Once that's done, let Fire, Police and EMT know that there is a field hospital - and it's be open for business.

 

The entire room shook and Achilles was nearly thrown to the floor. He ran outside to see smoke coming from a different building and he knew United 175 had not been stopped. He thought about calling either Guardsman or Aurora to get a status report - but knew that wouldn't help any.

 

"You Achilles?" A policeman with a thick New York accent asked.

 

"Yes, how can I help?" He felt stupid asking with so much evident to be done.

 

"We have some wounded - and they said that we could bring them here. That right?" He asked.

 

"Absolutely." Achilles responded.

 

Without waiting for another word, the policeman called in - the radio replied 25 were inbound. The policeman looked back at Achilles. "Can you handle 25?"

 

"The building will. If you can find anyone else who can help - EMT, anyone who knows first aid - or anyone will to take instruction. Send them here." Achilles answered, running back inside to get everything

ready.

 

The medical package was a portable field hospital, used by the Guardians when they responded to a disaster. It contained a large tent, several collapsible tables, a generator, as well as medicine, surgical linens equipment. He set the tent aside for now, and set everything else up.

 

He soon had 5 surgical tables, 20 cots and 10 improvised beds made from the tables in the club. While the Baby Shamu didn't have any food – it did have coffee and Achilles quickly put three pots on. He hung his tabard over the door - hopefully, the red would draw everyone's attention and the ballistic cloth might give some protection for the doorway - should that be necessary. Lastly, he traded his normal mask for a surgical mask.

 

About 10 people came in with the first group. Six were severely wounded - too wounded to be taken all the way to a hospital; three were willing to help; one was an EMT - Sara Philpot.

 

"What can I do?" Sara asked.

 

Achilles looked at her thankfully, "If you can stay, triage the patients. Right now, anyone who can be helped, will be helped. We'll see how long we can continue that. There are blankets over there for shock and there's lots of room around the walls for people to rest."

 

Achilles began to instruct the others, but one of them was already giving orders. He was in his 40s, and dressed in a disheveled Brooks Brothers suit. Achilles would later learn his name was Earl and he worked for one of the many brokerage firms in the towers. As volunteers, wounded and injured filtered in Earl made sure that, someone was keeping the water flowing; someone was holding pressure on wounds; someone was running down whatever was needed.

 

It was not 15 minutes more before Achilles lost his first patient. A pall set in on the entire room. That lasted until someone pushed through the cloth door and shouted ... "More on the way."

 

Over the rest of the day, Achilles was joined by three other EMTs; two doctors who walked into the area on their own; and scores of volunteers who did everything from making coffee and running water to the fire and policemen to holding a dying patient's hand. They were short on everything, but did what they could. in the end, it was little more than a band-aid on gun-shot wound.

 

Achilles sat - spent - on the blood stained floor and ran his hand through his matted hair. He wore no mask except one forged of pain, frustration and exhaustion of the moment.

 

He felt someone tap him on the shoulder. It was one of the volunteers, some secretary or executive type. Her hair once perfect, her makeup once without blemish - she now looked older than she probably was. She

offered an MRE. "You look like you need this." She said to him, what he noticed most was her smile. It was the first smile he had seen that entire day.

 

Wordlessly, he accepted it. Thanking her with his acceptance and a nod. He shared the cold beef stew with Sara who was sitting close by.

 

"You're Achilles?" A voice above him said. Achilles looked up to see Helios - a local hero from NYC who he had treated earlier in the day.

 

Achilles extended his hand, "Yes. Helios, right? You're with the Sentinels." Helios nodded, then Achilles realized his point. "I'm sorry that I couldn't do more for your team." Helios had been brought in with three other teammates: Lightning Rod, Aegis and Maelstrom; none of whom had made it.

 

"Well - you did what you could." He said plainly. "But, look at this." He turned and gestured to the converted club. "Look what happened here ... all these people, working together. Someone hit us this morning - but tonight, we're all together."

 

"Achilles!" Someone shouted, "Your going to want to see this!"

 

Achilles looked away from Helios and saw a orange glove, it was Dogfight. "Bring him over here." But, before they crossed the floor, Achilles knew that he had lost a teammate today. He found himself unable to cry. He had seen so much death today - rich and poor, good and bad. He'd even saved the life of a supervillain who had come to help.

 

"I'm sorry." The paramedic said, "We pulled him out of the rubble at South Tower. What should we do with him?"

 

He died early, Achilles thought. **Melody,** He said, **transport Dogfight to the station Morgue. Please.** Moments later, the body was gone - 'Let the dead bury the dead.' Someone had said once. There were still those living who needed help, and Dogfight would have to wait. Achilles was certain that his fallen teammate would understand.

 

For all the excitement and activity, there had been little radio activity during the day.

 

Achilles looked at the two doctors, who had now been joined by four more. "I'm probably going to need to leave. Thanks." He said. Again, his words sounded hollow, though he meant it heart-felt.

 

**Achilles to Guardians: status please.** Achilles pulled his mask back over his head and walked out into the fading sun. The meal and the sugar had given him a bounce and a second wing; but seeing his dead friend had taken much of that away from him. He carried himself back to Ground Zero.

 

Guardians, one by one, checked in - all save Dogfight and Pharaoh.

 

In the distance, he heard Pharaoh's voice sound like thunder. Vengeance. The god wanted vengeance, and this mortal understood implicitly. Rumors were flying about who had done this. Was it Tarot, or was it some Islamic extremist?

 

**Melody - I need secure transmission frequency Achilles-Theta-Delta-Bravo.**

 

**Achilles.** A baritone voice rang through the transmission lines. **I can guess that you're not here to play games. So, what is it that you require?**

 

**Who did this?** Achilles asked, certain that his call had been anticipated, and the information would be at the ready.

 

**Al-Qaeda is the name of the group.** Was the answer. **You should check in the Gardez area, these map coordinates ... .**

 

Al-Qaeda, Bin Laden, Afghanistan. **Thank you.** Achilles said.

 

**You really should come to Bermuda sometime soon.** The voice changed, soften a bit. Again the pretense of fatherhood. **I believe that I still have you in check from ... ** Achilles killed the line and walked on.

 

Ten minutes later, in what seemed like a quiet place. The Guardians gathered around. Achilles looked at each one, each with their own burden - each beaten down. But all had done their part to save who they could.

 

He knew that he could ask anything of them, fatigue and pain would be put aside until their task was completed. And so, he began.

 

"I need two teams. The first team will stay here and help with search and rescue. The other team will be a strike team. I have a rough location on the man who masterminded this and I'd like to have him in custody within 24 hours." Achilles looked at them. "I'll stay here and lead the SAR team; I'd like Oracle to lead the strike team - she should be able to pin-point our target. Everyone else, pick a team..."

[SKJAM!]

Re: The Global Guardians on September 11, 2001

 

Hmm.. yeah. I can see the irony. To be honest it never even crossed my mind when I wrote it.

 

Those capitalized words are...interesting. Something that might be interesting to explore if Dragnet appears in one of the games again.

[Mr. R]

Re: The Global Guardians on September 11, 2001

 

Great work by all of them. So far though the image that still sticks out the most to me is Tachyon's with Dragnet. Just the image of seeing a enemy offer you a helping hand seemed to show more about the joining together aspect than any other.

 

Jerome

[Guest Worldmaker]

Re: The Global Guardians on September 11, 2001

 

Bungie. By Dale Hobson, Bungie's player.

 

 

 

September 11, 2001 - Guardians Satellite

 

"Now what do we have here?"

 

Being relatively new to the Global Guardians, Bungie had been exploring the nooks and crannies of the base. Currently, she was stretched out through approximately 20 meters of ductwork and access panels. Lodged behind some sheathed cabling was what looked to be a small leather pouch. Or maybe suede. If she just slithered another meter or so she should be able to reach it. She wondered who might have left such a thing in an area as inaccessible as this.

 

It suddenly occurred to the stretchy Guardian that perhaps she should be concerned that such a thing was even found in the recesses of their base. What if it wasn't benign? Tentatively, she reached her hand towards the pouch when her communicator sounded off, causing her to start and bang her head.

 

**Achilles to all Guardians. We have a situation. Report to the World Trade Center - full disaster mode. Aurora and Guardsman - keep looking for that other plane; but look in the New York area. If you find United Flight 175 - disable it and force it down. If I'm wrong, we can apologize later.**

 

The shock at Achilles' message caused all thoughts of found pouches and bumped heads to be quickly forgotten. Bungie retracted her pliant body back to the small utility closet where she had begun her journey into the bowels of the base. Sneezing twice from the dust that had accumulated in her nostrils, she raced at full speed to the control room and teleport pad.

 

(World Trade Center? Other plane? Disable it? What the heck is going on?)

 

Her thoughts tumbled in confusion and concern regarding what could be the nature of the crisis that prompted an all team - full disaster mode call. Rounding a hallway corner, she spotted Achilles on the pad with some sort of equipment at his feet.

 

She didn't think Achilles could ever look more grim than he normally did. She was wrong. The look on what facial features she could see beneath his cowl and mask made the pit of her stomach churn. Something big was happening.

 

Melody was already initiating the transport sequence and Bungie barely had time to jump to the platform to catch the teleport, let alone ask Achilles for a situation report or where they were going.

 

They teleported into a chaotic nightmare. No words Achilles could have offered would have prepared the young Guardian for the scene that unfolded before them. At first she couldn't discern the nature of the disaster. All she could see was a confusing swirl of debris, smoke, and panic. Sirens wailed in the distance. Hoarse shouts rang out from people scurrying about on the ground... some in uniform, others in business suits. Their voices seemed muffled by the oppressive background noise that the entire area seemed to emit, as if groaning in shock and unbearable pain.

 

She noticed Achilles dash off out of the corner of her eye. His action galvanized her to shake off the paralysis she had started to fall under. Glancing upwards, Bungie saw one of the World Trade Center towers bleeding a thick mass of fire and smoke.

 

It was impossible to formulate a sensible plan of action. The enormity of the need defied her ability to strategize or think tactically. She noted the actions of those already on site and realized everyone was following the same basic plan: Get as many tower inhabitants to safety as quickly as possible.

 

Her face set into a look of grim determination, Bungie stretched her legs and ran quickly towards the burning

tower. She realized now that it was the north tower. Approaching, she gathered her powerful, elongated, legs beneath her and sprang violently into the air. Landing, springing, and swinging upwards again from nearby structures and protrusions on the towers themselves, she was soon at the site of the disaster and hung for a moment from a piece of jagged metal that twisted outward from the tower face, to the side of the burning penetration. She noted Pharaoh nearby directing a torrent of wind and water towards the raging fire. His efforts dispersed enough of the smoke that she could survey the area.

 

She knew that a plane had done this. Achilles' communication now made sense, though the senselessness of such an accident was unbearable. There was hardly any sign of the plane, just the gaping, burning hole. And the screams. She could hear them now. Screams for help and of helplessness. Inhabitants scurrying about looking for safety, some pounding on the windows above and below the crash site, hoping to draw the attention of anyone able to assist or otherwise offer hope.

 

Bungie observed Maximan depositing people on the nearby south tower. It made sense, and would be much quicker than trying to ferry people to the street, especially for Bungie. Those trapped in the tower above the burning maw that used to be the 93rd floor would be her top priority. Matching action to thought, she swung upwards into the air, executed a perfect somersault, and launched herself from her perch towards the roof of the tower.

 

The stairwells were crowded as people on the upper floors tried to make their way down, not understanding there was no passage through the flaming hell that was below floor 94. Bungie enlarged her fists and made quick work of the roof top access door.

 

Her neck snaked down the stairwell to encounter the backlog of desperate humanity.

 

"ATTENTION, I am Bungie of the Global Guardians. Come with me!"

 

At first, there was a trickle of people, desperate to grasp any chance for hope. Then, slowly more made their way to the roof. As they did, Bungie stretched her body, portions of her malleable torso and limbs wrapping themselves around peoples' waists, arms, legs, wherever she could find a solid grasp. And she leaped. The cries of terror from those being rescued mingled with those yet to be rescued. Her body billowed out much like a hang-glider as she banked sharply towards the roof of the nearby south tower. Eight, ten, sometimes twelve people were grasped at a

time, ferried off the burning tower, then deposited to safety. She would then spring high into the air and glide quickly back to the north tower rooftop to repeat the process.

 

The tragedy was still immense, but Bungie felt the beginnings of hope in her heart. Between her and the other heroes' efforts, they might soon evacuate everyone from the upper north tower floors. Pharaoh would surely have the flames under control soon. What might have been a much worse disaster might actually be minimized due to the combined efforts of the super and normal heroes attending the scene.

 

Bungie was descending to the slightly lower roof of the south tower when a shadow caught her eye. A big shadow. She was about to touch down when the world turned inside out.

 

Glass. Fire. Metal. Smoke. Paper. People. All were expelled violently from the side of the south tower as an explosion rocked the structure, causing it to shake and lurch. Bungie found herself flung off the edge, her elastic body still wrapped around a handful of people.

 

As she somersaulted in an uncontrolled fall, things seemed to go into slow motion. She could see people falling next to her, their mouths open in silent screams, eyes darting wildly about, arms and legs windmilling as if the air were water and one could swim to safety. A wooden desk spun lazily toward the street below, family pictures still attached to it's topside. She saw a figure that could only be Pharaoh drop from a billow of flame, his body motionless and trailing a wisp of smoke that marked his descent. Faces plastered against the windows of both towers' lower levels, eyes wide with horror at the surreal and terrifying spectacle that fell past them.

 

Time caught up with her again and Bungie realized that if she didn't do something, she and those around her were going to perish. Once again, her body snapped open and allowed her to slow their fall to a controlled glide. It was then that she realized she held only three people. Somewhere during her disorientation she had lost grasp of the others. The ground rushed up and she banked sharply to avoid certain injury or death at the landing. Wildly she

looked up at the south tower. The tower she had ferried so many people to. Those same people who were now trapped just like those in the north tower. One step forward had become ten steps back.

 

Crying out in desperate anguish, the pliant Guardian slammed her fists into the ground in frustration. It felt as if all had been for naught. In the midst of her breakdown a hand gently clasp her own and squeezed gently. Bungie looked over into the eyes of a young man who she had brought safely down from her recent descent.

 

"God bless you." His words were broken by a series of coughs, likely the result of smoke inhalation. His eyes teared. "Thank you." Those around her murmured in agreement as EMT's and fire rescue personal rushed forward to triage and escort the survivors to proper medical attention.

 

Steeling herself to the task at hand, Bungie narrowed her eyes and sprang upwards once again towards the rooftops of the two towers. Midway up, strong taloned hands grasp her by the arms and she found herself being carried swiftly upwards. Instinctively, she twisted to escape, but was halted by a screeching voice.

 

"Bungie. I am Harpy. Let me assist."

 

Harpy. Bungie had no idea who she was. The woman appeared to be part bird and part woman. She might be a villain or a hero, but today it mattered not. Today everyone was a member of team humanity.

 

The feathered wings of Harpy made Bungie's ascent much more expeditious and they soon fell into workable pattern. Bungie would grab groups of people and descend with swift gliding to ground level. Harpy would ferry people down in pairs, then grasp Bungie and carry her back to the rooftops.

 

As she and Harpy continued the weary pattern of rescue, Bungie finally wrapped her mind around the fact that the events of today could be no accident. In stunned silence, she continues her work, not even thinking of calling on the Guardians communicator for more details.

 

Bungie was about to touch down at ground level with a group of survivors when an unearthly groan emanated from behind her. As she gently deposited her human passengers, her turned head caught the horrifying site of the south tower collapse on itself. The resultant rolling force of debris, smoke, dust, and who knows what else that radiated out from the collapse rushed outward sweeping all in its path with relentless power. Bungie instinctively fashioned her body into protective spherical wall around the people near hear. The dust and debris hit her hard, pelting and stinging her exposed flesh. She and the others were pushed away from the collapse, but her charges were not physically harmed.

 

Forceful winds seemed to intelligently corral the airborne debris field and the cloud of chaos that had signified the death of the south tower was soon swirling up and away. Bungie caught sight of Pharaoh in his full glory directing the weather and she thrilled at the fact he was alive. Not well, but alive.

 

Caked with layers of ash gray dust, her uniform and skin lacerated and scorched, her blond hair and lashes curled and burned by the intense heat she had been subjected to, Bungie looked more a victim than a hero. An EMT attempted to direct her to a nearby triage area. When she resisted, he became quite insistent. "Ma'am. This way please. It's for your own safety."

 

Bungie grasp an unrecognizable piece of cloth from the ground. She didn't want to speculate what is was or

where it came from. Wiping the ash from her face and tears from her eyes, she responded with a confidence she wasn't sure she actually felt.

 

"I am Bungie of the Global Guardians. There are others to see to safety first." The EMT's eyes widened as he recognized the heroine, then on an impulse he presented her with a salute. The gesture humbled and refreshed her at the same time. With a sorrowful smile, she clasp the man on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

 

"Thank you."

 

Then she was gone, wondering where the rest of her teammates were, wondering where Harpy was, wondering when hell would be over.

 

Bungie had worked her way to the rooftop of the north tower, looking for more people to carry to safety.

 

"Miss me?"

 

The question was asked in a tired, yet cocky manner. Harpy landed on the rooftop. One side of the bird-woman's face was charred and her left eye was swollen shut. Feathers and skin on her chest were singed and missing. The woman followed Bungie's assessing gaze and answered her unasked question.

 

"Wings are still functional... for now. Let's get back to work."

 

Bungie and Harpy continued their tag team rescue efforts for the occupants of the north tower.

 

Twenty minutes later, Harpy was nowhere to be found for a return trip to the north tower rooftop. Bungie falls back to her bouncing and leaping ability to make her ascent for a number of trips.

 

Bungie had returned with another batch of survivors. Turning to leap upwards again, her legs buckled and she collapsed to the ground, her body rebelling against the punishment she was putting it through. Lungs burning, she gasped for breath, forcing smoke-flavored air into her oxygen-starved body.

 

Nearby, Bungie overheard an EMT arguing with Tachyon. Glancing over, she saw her fellow Guardian's intent...

and the condition he was in. Wincing, she stretched a hand over and placed it on his shoulder.

 

"Tachyon please, you deserve a rest" she implored to her companion. As he attempted to shrug away to enter the tower, Bungie flung her pliable arms around him, wrapping him up in an effort to keep him put. The ape tried to shrug away, getting ready to head back inside.

 

"Tachyon... NO!"

 

Tachyon strained against her hold, screaming in agony. "No! I can make it back in!"

 

As they resisted each other, each with the best intentions, the north tower began its collapse. Blinking back tears, Bungie gritted her teeth and constricted her hold even tighter as she felt Tachyon start to vibrate in his attempts to escape her grasp.

 

"Don't sacrifice yourself. There are others still to be aided." Her voice trailed off and cracked with sorrow as she and Tachyon watched the second tower fall. "There's been too much death already..."

 

The World Trade Center's north tower collapsed from the top down as if it were being peeled apart, releasing a tremendous cloud of debris and smoke.

 

Suddenly, the arms that had encircled Bungie's fellow Guardian slacked, no longer restraining, but almost clinging, as the pliable Guardian hung on to her companion for strength. Her face buried itself into his furry shoulder, as she wept silently.

 

She could have let the sorrowful sobs wrack her body for a long time. She wanted to. But she was a Guardian and there were still people in need. Composing herself, she unwrapped from Tachyon, gave him a silent nod of appreciation, and then bounded towards the tower wreckage to look for survivors.

 

Able to work her way into the tightest of spots, Bungie was able to find quite a few people alive and trapped. Those she couldn't extradite herself, she directed her fellow heroes, super or otherwise, to their locations.

 

By the time Building 7 collapsed, . Bungie had been wrung of all emotion for hours now and was operating more on auto-pilot than conscious decision.

 

Search. Stretch. Squeeze. Discover.

 

The things she saw as she explored the wreckage of the towers looking for signs of life would likely give her nightmares for a long time to come.

 

When her companions located her, she was on her knees between where the WTC towers had once stood, her

posture slumped with exhaustion. Portions of her cheeks showed through the layers of ash that covered the rest of her, having been gently washed clean by the meandering path of tears that had rolled down them... until there were no more tears to cry.

[Logan D]

Re: The Global Guardians on September 11, 2001

 

These have all been outstandingpieces of writing. More than once I've had to stop for a moment. Sometimes rubbing at my eyes. Sometimes just sitting back and... processing... for lack of any better word to think of.

 

I wonder... Now that I've had time to think about it. What was the process that led to this? I know that many gaming groups playing superhero campaigns have integrated or acknowledged 9-11 into their campaigns. How did you come to the decision to do so and in this way? Obviously there must have been some serious discussion as to what happened and how to deal with it, both as a group and individually. What did the various players think of the project? Are other groups in the GG universe going to do the same thing?

 

I've peeked at the website, and surmised that Oracle's player must be the "Becky" referred to earlier. I feel for her. And I'm guessing that her story may be the most difficult of all of the Guardians to tell, given her character's power set.

 

Thank you for posting these stories. They've been really good and very powerful.

[Guest Worldmaker]

Re: The Global Guardians on September 11, 2001

 

I wonder... Now that I've had time to think about it. What was the process that led to this? I know that many gaming groups playing superhero campaigns have integrated or acknowledged 9-11 into their campaigns. How did you come to the decision to do so and in this way? Obviously there must have been some serious discussion as to what happened and how to deal with it' date=' both as a group and individually. What did the various players think of the project? Are other groups in the GG universe going to do the same thing?[/quote']

 

 

Before last year's universal reboot (when we basically picked up the etch-a-sketch, gave it a good shake, and started fresh with everything), the 9-11 attacks were not a part of the GGU continuity. At the time, I didn't want to deal with it. Now, with nearly three years of separation, I was ready to deal with what the consequences of those attacks were for my gameworld.

 

Every now and again, I give my players "homework assignments". Little story challenges that they may or may not respond to that hopefully allow them to explore their characters in ways that they normally don't get to do through the course of the campaign. For example, I once asked them to write a newspaper editorial about their character that was critical and uncomplimentary, but was also not simply a smear-job... meaning it had to actually be factually based. Another time, I asked them to write a Playboy-magazine style "Twenty-Questions With..." article for their characters.

 

Anyway, I had been thinking of the setup for my campaign... these are the most powerful heroes in the Guardians Universe. They protect the entire world from threats internal and otherwise. I wanted to give them a homework assignment that reflected this. In addition, I had been listening to NPR's coverage of the 9-11 committee, and the two thoughts basically entertwined.

 

When I made the proposal, I honestly expected at least one person to tell me to go screw myself. None have, which is a good thing. I also gave them the option of opting out of this writing assignment without prejudice. To date, three have (Ryan Stevenson, player of Gunmetal, Rob Rogers, player of Bandit, and as of yesterday Rebecca Butler, my wife and the player of Oracle).

 

 

I've peeked at the website, and surmised that Oracle's player must be the "Becky" referred to earlier. I feel for her. And I'm guessing that her story may be the most difficult of all of the Guardians to tell, given her character's power set.

 

She started a story half a dozen times, but never made it past the third sentence before giving up on it. Finally, I had to remind her that it was all optional, and she officially notified me that she was opting out.

[Kara Zor-El]

Re: The Global Guardians on September 11, 2001

 

When I made the proposal' date=' I honestly expected at least one person to tell me to go screw myself. None have, which is a good thing.[/quote']

 

Who'd ya expect? lol

 

And, to be fair, I did call ya an ogre, even though it was in jest.

[Guest Worldmaker]

Re: The Global Guardians on September 11, 2001

 

Pulse. Written by Seth Robbins, Pulse's player.

 

A QUICK NOTE BEFORE THE STORY: While Pulse is a player character in the Global Guardians universe, Pulse is not a global guardian. However, as the 9/11 attacks loom large in his history and in his origin as a crimefighter, the other players and I felt it was appropriate that Seth tell Pulse's story.

 

As an additional note, Seth Robbins, the player in question, is an EMT and firefighter. He was one of the men called upon to help in the aftermath of the attacks. He saw it all up close and first hand.

 

END OF NOTE.

 

 

 

On September 10, 2001, Sebastian was looking forward to his next tour. Working as a Firefighter for the past 10 years has been like living a dream. Through hard work and dedication (and a few connections which didn't hurt), Sebastian managed to get transferred to Rescue 2 based in Brooklyn, New York. The entire Rescue Company finished their Urban Search and Rescue (USAR) training last week and Sebastion was one of the few selected for New York State's Task Force One, the Federal USAR Team.

 

Heading home after completing his scheduled tour, Sebastian was looking forward to the rest of his day off. September 10th was a normal day. Sebastian mowed the lawn and even had a few beers while watching the Yankees sweep the Mets. Could be a promising year for the Yanks. Heading out to dinner with his girlfriend, the night went well and Sebastian looked forward to getting to bed relatively early this time. He had a shift to get to in the morning.

 

The overnight tour was a normal shift. The rig was in the house and they guys were sleeping soundly. The housewatchman was dozing in his chair by the radio and something was playing on the TV that he didn't recognize. Sebastian arrived at the house by 0700. It was his turn for breakfast.

 

Eggs. Everyone always liked eggs. Omlettes, and scrambled and poached. Two dozen eggs, three pounds of bacon, five pounds of shredded potatoes for hashbrowns. Coffee and gallons of juice and milk covered the table as guys started rolling in. His voice blared over the house ntercom, "BREAKFAST IS SERVED". By 0800 the hole house plus the guys from the next tour were coming in to enjoy his breakfast. The straglers from the next shift came in and the usual morning antics soon followed.

 

Sebastian looked at the clock as he put the dishes into the dishwasher. At least he supervised the cleanup. Nice to know that doing the cooking let him off of clean up detail. 08:46. Wow. A full meal without a call to interrupt anything. Unique.

 

BEEEEEEBOOOOOOOOP

 

The alert tones dropped. The radio was crackling with the reports. An airplane? Into the World Trade Center? This couldn't be happening. Accidents happen right? Climbing into his gear and stepping up into the rear of the rig, Sebastian listened to the reports on the way. The rear was crowded with guys from the last shift. Nobody was going home. Everyone was going on this one.

 

The full report, over the radio detailed the extent of the damage. "Holy shit. It his square on? We got some work to do."

 

The Captain was riding the rig out on this one. "North Tower fellas. We're going to stage a few blocks out and make our way in. Engine 55 is on scene and is sending reports. Other companies are on the way."

 

The radio crackled again. The fifth alarm struck for the day for Box 5-5-5-5. Going northbound in the southbound lane over the Brooklyn Bridge, the guys in the rear of the rig crowded up against the small side window. Debris was falling everywhere and the smoke plume could be seen stretching off into the distance. Getting out the back of the box, Sebastion grabbed a hook and a haligan, a spare air bottle and got inline with the rest of the crew as they headed into the north tower. For some reason the bank clock flashed at him. It was 08:56. "Nice driving brother...made that run in record time!" The good humor never faded with the crew as we went inside.

 

The lobby was hazy and charred at the entrance by the bank of elevators. The jet fuel from the aircraft poured down the elevator shafts and billowed into the hallway. Several charred and unrecognized bodies lay in places around them. Making a left, Sebastian walked down the hallway and found Chief Pfeiffer at the command post. Rescue 2 walked right past them as the milling chaos presented itself. Finding the access stairway, they begain their climb. People were pouring down the stairwell as they climbed.

 

Disbelief. Shock. Fear. Confusion. All were evident on the faces of the people he passed. Firefighters from other truck and engine companies were on the landings, catching their breath as they climbed. Higher and faster. The radios crackled with "mayday" and "forthwith" and "expidite" but the big one that came over clearly was "...we need more water! Charge the lines!" The engine companies brought their highrise packs up with them. Hooking them up to the standpipes, the Engines below would supply the water to the pipes. Why wasn't it working?

 

Passing the 15th floor brought a shaking and a roar to the building. Without pause, they continued climbing. Sweat stinging the eyes, muscles burning with effort, airpacks jingling, boots thumping, people talking. They had no way of knowing that another plane struck the building next to them...

 

After what seemed like an eternity, they began reaching the lower floors of operations. Guys lined the stairway waiting their turn to head into the roaring inferno above. Hazy smoke lingered in the air, gaining in thickness as they climbed, passing more Engine and Truck companies lined up to go to work. "Rescue 2 coming through!" They made their way past people, climbing over a few who tried to block their way. Survivors and wounded were being led down through the confusion. Radios crackled static. Water ran in rivers down the steps, helmets dripped with sweat from the firefighters.

 

The roar of the inferno above could be heard clearly at the base of the stairs. The smoke was brutal. Black and grey, thick billowing tendrils extended their reach down to the lower levels. Pausing to put on his airmask, Sebastion placed his helmet back on his head and pickup his tools, went inside looking for victims. Entering the 83rd floor, the roar of the flames was deafening. Heat billowed out of the doorway and enveloped him and his brother firefighter. Moving in, he turned to him. "You search right, i'll search left." Nodding, the two split off with the others from the rig. Stay together in teams. Don't lose each other. Together your life can be saved. Don't get split up...

 

Finding a closed door, Sebaston forced the door. The windows were shattered and the air from outside came rushing in with gale force. Fire lept from the ceiling as it gained its much needed oxygen. Sweeping down, the room flashed over. Billowing flame came boiling out of the room as he and his brother firefighter dived out of the way. Flames lept across the hall as the air fed the fire. Moving down the hall, Sebastian realized he was alone. The pillar of flame had separated him from his partner. Looking at the wall of fire, he moved down the hall to find another way out. Pausing a second, he took a deep breath and held it.

 

He listened. Use all your senses. During his pause he heard it. The coughing. Moving through the smoke, he found the largest ape he had ever seen in the hallway. Tears flowed form his eyes as they burned with smoke. Steam rose from its fur as the heat vaporized the water in the air. The ape was wiping his eyes and clearing some debris from the ceiling looking around. He was lost. Sebastian moved over quickly and grabbed his arm. "The exit is that way. Keep going down the left wall. It will take you around the that fire and bring you back to the stairs. Get out!"

 

He didn't wait to see if the ape had made it. He had to continue his search for life. Entering a corner office, Sebastian looks up from behind the desk as the building rumbles. A deep bass feeling more than felt. The rumble persisted over the noises in the hallway. He had no way of knowing that the south tower of the World Trade Center had collapsed.

 

Sebastian found a stairway that had partially collapsed. There was no way to go down. Concrete, steel, and furniture choked the stairwell. Pausing in the remarkably clear landing, he took the time to change his air bottle. Pulling his spare off of the make-shift strap, he quickly changed the bottle. Leaving the empty bottle on the landing, he headed up the steps. Opening the door to the 84th floor, he kneeled in the entryway. Fire lept from the walls and flared out from holes in the ceiling. He took two steps into the hallway when the world tilted sideways...

 

Darkness. Pain. Alone. Immobilized. Opening his eyes, nothing could be seen. Memory left him. It was dark. His pain slowly subsided as he searched his memory. He was alone. That wasn't right. He was with others. Who? Where were they? He tried to move but was pinned tight. Steel?

 

That smell. Fire? Smoke? A moment of panic sent waves of adrenaline rushing through his system. The powerful trigger of adrenaline surged through his body. He had to move. First his fingers and then his hand. Something shifted. Something moved. The adrenaline peaked. He felt surreal. There was nothing he could do. Flexing his body, things moved. Steel bent, concrete cracked, wood split. Then he fell. Striking something, he bounced and changed direction and fell again striking something again as he fell and blacked out.

 

He awoke in a dim light. The orange glow of a smoldering fire in the distance lent an eerie light to the massive void space he found himself in. Wreckage was everywhere. Blacking out, he felt the pain ebb from within. When he awoke nothing had changed. The fire still burned and the wreckage was still there. Painfully getting up he began to search. He used to do that too right? Egress. Find the way out. Timeless.

 

His jacket was torn and shredded but he didn't take it off. His pants had holes in it but he didn't feel the cold or the heat. Feeling a slight breeze, he moved a piece of steel. It seemed so light. The tunnel before him seemed a miracle. The old subway. The light was brighter here. It took a moment to realize that the fire had closed to his location. He didn't feel the heat of it. There was no pain anywhere in his body. Odd. He began walking down the tracks looking for the service stairs.

[zornwil]

Re: The Global Guardians on September 11, 2001

 

Wow. Just wow.

[Thrakazog]

Re: The Global Guardians on September 11, 2001

 

Damn fine writing' date=' John.[/quote']

 

I just got caught up on this thread, almost forgot about it. Thanks, Dave.

 

To my teammates: great job everyone. Solid work all around.

[Guest Worldmaker]

Re: The Global Guardians on September 11, 2001

 

I have to say that it is a true honor being the GM of this campaign.

[Guest Worldmaker]

Re: The Global Guardians on September 11, 2001

 

Jack' date=' I take it in the GGU the Global Guardians moved against Al Qaeda instead of a more general military response by the US?[/quote']

 

Did I ever answer this? I'm too tired to check. If I answer this twice, I apologize.

 

Yes, according to the GGU timeline, two days later the Guardians team pulled al-Queda's leadership out of a rathole in Afghanistan and brought them to trial in New York. Except bin Ladin, who committed suicide rather than be captured.

[Rachel]

Re: The Global Guardians on September 11, 2001

 

I just got caught up on this thread, almost forgot about it. Thanks, Dave.

 

To my teammates: great job everyone. Solid work all around.

 

Very solid. I'm not prone to crying, but I got teary eyed reading these.

 

Great job, everyone.