"High noon" still has a resonating historical significance not lost on the people of New Amsterdam. Old cowboy movies, complete with John Wayne standing in a dusty, old street are imprinted upon people's memories, helping them recall a simpler past where grudges could be settled with guns. By 2511, these movies have been remade countless times over with different set pieces, but nostalgia continues to be an ever-present factor. It's not nostalgia that drives the UNA soldiers and Morningstar agents into position during this hour, but the time itself serves as a reminder. A call to a different time and a different past.
Outside, the sun burns bright, but people sleep soundly, shades drawn securely over their windows to create a false darkness. This is why the UNA strikes at noon: their targets will be vulnerable, comforted by the presence of daylight only a drawn shade away,
Across town, Morningstar's agents are preparing for their own strike. One of them makes a joke about the non hour. He's told to shut it. They have fifteen minutes. Is everyone ready? Their uniforms are black, tightly fitting. Each of them pulls their mask over their faces. Up ahead, there's a wall to scale.
Fifteen minutes and the plan goes into motion. Each agent knows the costs of this mission. Their last one ended up with numerous dead – lost – with no reward. UNA soldiers are far more threatening than the armed guards Morningstar faced on that day, but the reward is more sure. Worth the risk. They're secure in what they need to do.
Then it's time. Across the city, the UNA soldiers descend in perfect unison. Separate but thinking with one mind, one goal. Eliminate a festering problem, one that only stands to grow in a world haunted by chaos and trauma. It's their job to set things right. To restore order to a world that is currently without.
About forty five minutes in to the widespread assault, El sends out a message to everyone in the safehouse. This time, zeir communication is immediate, without the steady scrolling of text. Prepared in advance:
Hey, so. Emergency everyone. Come to the safehouse ASAP. Morningstar agents are in trouble, including a number who have helped you behind the scenes. Gaby will tell you more once you get there.
Once everyone shows up, crowded inside the part of the safehouse with the cots, Gaby gives everyone the rundown. The risk. The place where the rest of the agents are – this last bit of information being shared with an uneasy edge, arms crossed and body language giving off her discomfort. There are other people at risk, people who can't fight, who try to undermine the corporations with their regular lives, doing their best to keep the people they care about safe from their rebellious activity.
After she hands out the gear, she insists that it must be returned. But Gaby isn't stupid. Her desperation is inherent in her decisions, in the information that follows: exposing most of the inactive safehouses, giving away the addresses of the people likely in danger. Every Morningstar contact in New Amsterdam is likely at risk. So far, agents in other megacities aren't being targeted – yet. But this operation could be a model for future UNA efforts to eliminate the Morningstar threat.
The safehouses are spread across the city. Typically present in disheveled and forgotten pieces of real estate, there will be squatters and homeless alike taking up space as they move inside with the agents. This may prove a risk, and they may need to be bribed to go elsewhere, offered food and supplies. Other safehouses will be beneath bars, convenience stores, and through the storage room in less expensive apartment buildings – businesses and buildings owned by long-time Morningstar agents, kept ready in the case of an emergency like this one.
None of the safehouses will be prepared for living with the exception of cots and communal restrooms ready for use. This is a problem, but not a priority. She'll ask that everyone get out there and save the lives of the agents. Bring them and their families in safely – the rest can be figured out after that.
> RESTORING ORDER
Given the limitations over real estate and space even in a city as large as New Amsterdam, every citizen lives in an apartment building. The great majority of them were meant to be built quickly, similar layouts and designs behind them. A quick bit of research will get anyone the floor plans for these places – they're publicly available, ready for potential tenants. Most of these places are no dreamhouse, however: small and contained, they show the lifestyle of the typical Morningstar agent.
Any of the agents with a child – and there will only ever be one per agent, with the restrictions on childbirth – will have a roomier place, with better furnishing and more space for a child to run and grow up. These places will afford the family within better privacy, and many of them have drones and advanced robotics to help maintain the household, even caring for their child and keeping the door locked as the UNA soldiers move inside.
Where it's viable, the majority of UNA soldiers will move through the front door of these buildings. Never numbered over five, these soldiers will take the endless staircase up, erasing what little chances there are to run into anyone along the way. The knocks are just a cover to soothe the close-packed neighbors. Not all are fooled, and that's where the calls to the NAPD come in – though the UNA is prepared for this, too. Ready to assert their jurisdiction. Rather: their bosses are prepared. These soldiers have their orders and beyond that, only follow their orders with their formidable physicality and swift training.
But they are physically assertive: most of them are tall, seemingly without gender within thick black, metal armor. Despite their size and their robotic carapace, they are human underneath. Their extensive armor doesn't slow them down, instead seeming to propel them forward in a fight, letting them predict their enemies' moves as the mask they wear provides diagnostics and likely attacks on the fly. They carry extensive weapons and supplies, all to wear down any opponents. When they fight together, their actions are perfectly complementary.
They won't start a fight, but as soldiers, they are prepared. Though they enter through the front door, they intend to leave through a window, into a large flying vehicle outside, ready to hold the targets and bring them to a temporary dropsite. They don't expect any assailants, anyone to provide trouble – but they wouldn't be very well-trained, well designed if they couldn't expect or deal with the unexpected. They won't shoot unless someone forces the matter. Their training means their stature should be enough to put down most threats.
> A WELL-LAID TRAP
Confident and well-trained, the Morningstar agents have the plan ahead of them all mapped out. They know the shifts, the patrol patterns, especially at hours like this one. Fewer, right now, but they aren't nonexistent. Several strike teams spread out, ready to move to dismantle the UNA soldiers on site as needed. These are combat-trained agents, but five versus three UNA soldiers, or two, or even one still leads to odds where they don't win. Morningstar knows these soldiers intimately, has studied and discerned their few weaknesses. But these UNA soldiers are formidable opponents.
UNA Soldiers en route to Morningstar's goal will be handled with an eerie lack of follow-up. No reports of reinforcements incoming. The swift-moving Morningstar agents are too focused on their goal, which is close now, to worry about the implications. Besides, their information told them most agents would be away on training exercises. Reinforcements being delayed is no surprise.
Each agent has their own reason for being here, for believing that Morningstar needs to be more proactive, more forceful in fighting back. They aren't career soldiers, but people who thought that they could wield a gun and change a world that hides its problems under false promises and shimmering gloss. Many are impatient, frustrated: they were given a lead on weapons in June. They weren't mislead then, at least not intentionally, but what they got instead was a bus full of disoriented people. This cache is real, verified, and vulnerable, housed here temporarily before being moved for some unknown operation.
Once the Morningstar agents are all inside, the concealed UNA soldiers left at the base line up in formation. Perfectly tailored for the fight ahead, they move onto the site. Any agents on lookout duty will see the UNA moving in, ready to lay waste to anyone in there. This is a trap, they message frantically. The very real weapons inside are meant to mock with false hope.
The UNA aren't worried about Morningstar making off with their toys. After all, this is just as planned.
> INTERLUDE
Numerous officers pass by the holding cells in the NAPD's twelfth precinct, talking softly about what can they even do, muttering to themselves. Others pop a squat nearby and call it a well-earned day off. Let those soldiers take care of whatever mess they're cleaning up. That's not their job.
It's around this time that a third, unidentified group, takes advantage of the chaos. Well-dressed despite what is a late hours right now, they head into the precinct to take care of a dangling loose end. They show credentials that link them to New Beijing's governing body and personal security, they claim the men temporarily known as Tak and Alexei. As they're brought out of their cells, they're injected with the same compulsory drug as always, leaving them veritable walking zombies at first, leaving them unable to speak or act as they're given orders that tell them to do otherwise.
The records of these men will disappear with this action, the two of them swept away into the back of an expensive four-door sedan. The whole incident erased. Two somehow anonymous men didn't kill semi-innocent bystanders during the festival. As long as the records can be trusted, that was a fantasy. A whimsy.
Morningstar cameras will see this sedan stop near the current safehouse, near the typical entrance, and order Hei and Jake out. "Stay here. Sit down. Don't do or say anything until someone comes to retrieve you. It'll be a bit – they're tied up right now."
The man in the passenger seat in the front rolls down his window, leaning forward on his arm. His face is concealed, utilizing technology that's not the same but not dissimilar to what Morningstar has at their disposal. "Try not to do anything else too stupid, will you? The cops are gonna have a bug up their asses about you idiots."
And then the sedan rolls away, lifting up and passing through the city. Morningstar cameras will spot a specific – or perhaps the more apt word is "suspicious" – lack of license plate.
> MEDI-UNITS
Each of the safehouses were designed for the worst case scenario. There is a medi-unit in all of the safehouses, a large and complex machine that can heal most ills, but given the expensive nature of their design and the risk of using them, they're not used lightly.
The medi-units are reserved for the direst of needs. come into play. Dependent on a person's time of death to bring them back to the living, they need the exact time so that someone can clock it in and prepare the restoration process correctly. There are many risks in lacking that information – someone may come back damaged, unhealed, hurt in some way. They may not live for long. Assuming that a body is brought in with a time of death, they'll be directed to a safehouse with a free unit.
The person is kept in a medically induced coma while the machine repairs their body. What dreams someone experiences will be at the end point – which can be between 48 and 60 hours – as they slowly surface, starting to return to the world of the living. As they surface, their mind will be encumbered by images of bright blue lights glowing, swirling, communicating – but language seems thoroughly out of reach.
Once the medi-unit opens, the person inside will be thirsty. Desperate for water. But there will be no other signs of the wear and tear on their bodies.
> FINAL OOC NOTES
Please refer to the OOC EVENT POST for this event for all OOC info, including suggestions for directions on how to engage with the event and the questions thread for any questions regarding this event. The outcome for this event will depend upon character plans and actions developed in both this OOC post, and any additional plots brought to the moderators. Please feel free to submit any game-changing plans to us under the questions thread – but we will be reading all comments on the post!
The Operation will continue until September 11, IC time. An aftermath wrap up post will be made on January 26 which will detail the resolution and fallout of the event.
As a reminder, there is one power level up available for this event. This will be granted for a thread of at least 5 action/log comments containing your character utilizing their power in some way. They will need to reach the 5 comments required by FEBRUARY 23 to be eligible. Submission will be handled on the wrap up post.
Our Activity Check will be posted tomorrow, January 20, at 9 PM UTC. It will run for seven days and close on January 27. We will not post a warning list.
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meadowlarklogs2019-01-19 09:58 pm
no subject
Jason.
He mimics his movements, hurriedly getting to his feet so that he can better respond to any escape attempt -- he has no intentions of making his retreat that easy. Not if he's going to seek out more people to fight. ]
Were you, huh? Were you handling it? There's nothing to handle with those guys, not like that. [ There's a pause, punctuated by a heavy exhalation. ]
I'm talking to you as your friend, you asshole. I know it hurts... okay? But this is gonna' make it worse, so I'm asking you to come with me so I can make sure you're okay before we get back into it.
no subject
he's not going to stay that way much longer if it doesn't get patched up soon. jason takes a breath in, steadying. another. and another. focuses dull eyes onto noctis, and tries to let the anger bleed out of his expression. his brows keep pinched, mouth tight but--this is as good as it's going to get. )
Look, I don't have a fucking death wish. Been there, done that. I ain't willing to get back into a casket any time soon.
( it's a fucking lie, is what it is. if he died taking out the assholes who killed damian, jason would go out happy. but. )
'll walk myself back, both of us going back when there's still a lot of people out there's only gonna waste more time. ( before his chin jerks to the side, gestures down to the pack on his waist. ) You wanna make sure I'm good? Fine, c'mere. Shove some gauze into it, touch me.
( the empathy bond sucks and jason fucking hates it but if it'll get noctis off his back--he'll give him a glimpse. at how the anger has simmered down enough, even if the grief is still strong enough to make his heart hurt. )
no subject
Jason suggests that empathy bond and Noctis barely holds back a flinch of his own, however, having to hope that his own unease and reluctance are covered well enough by a short glance away. Maybe one of them is willing to share his emotions and potentially be judged on them, but that doesn't mean they both are. That's just about the last thing he wants right now. ]
Neither of us seriously want that, okay? And me touching you isn't gonna' tell me whether or not that anger is gonna' come right back when you see one of those bastards out there again. So--
If you wanna' waste as little time as possible, then we should actually get moving now.
no subject
I'm fine. ( fine enough to still be coherent. to respond. it's a start. ) I don't need you to babysit me to a goddamn safehouse. This? ( with a hand raising to pat at his bleeding shoulder. ignoring the wince that comes with it. ) Is nothing. You wanna be useful, go help someone who needs it.
( because he's going to try and ram right through noctis, towards the staircase. )
no subject
An exploitable injury.
He gets close and Noctis lets himself fall back on pure anger, relying on speed for the half-sidestep that he pulls out at the last second, a sharp blow directed right at Jason's bleeding wound. There's a split second of shame for the maneuver but it's quickly overwhelmed by his own impatience. ]
Is that nothing? Huh? I'm a hell of a lot nicer than they'll be to you! Fuck... I'm so sick of this! I made a promise to him and I'm gonna' keep it, do you get that, you selfish asshole?
Or is you being self-destructive so important to you that you're gonna' come at me again instead of us going? Let me do what I said I'd do!
no subject
it hurts.
bad enough that jason does snap, lets rage boil over to an uncontrollable point and turns around to noctis, raises his fist and moves to slam it straight into his stupid face, pain be damned. )
Shut up! I don't give a fuck about any damned promise you've made! Go be an annoying asshole to people who care!
( the physical pain is bad but it's the emotional pain that really gets to him. knowing he fucked up. knowing he wasn't there for damian, that he died and there was nothing jason could do about it. his pain is nothing. it's deserved. he didn't protect damian, this is what he gets. )
no subject
Not head on, having the sense to turn at the last second, but it cracks hard against his cheekbone and Noctis grits his teeth in response to the pain and heat that immediately blossom in its wake. It's impossible not to think about how those knuckles were recently beating against their enemy, before.
His hand rises to guard the spot, momentarily, staggering back a step. ]
You... you think I didn't notice? Fine... fine, we'll do it your way. You're so calm now? You prove it. Do that empathy bond with me now, show me you're in control of all this!
no subject
You don't wanna feel what I'm feeling.
( voice lower, but he doesn't go in for another punch. just. takes a breath. in, out. steadies himself. )
Go.
no subject
... you can get mad at me and hit me all you want, but you already know what I'm gonna' say. I don't care if it was a stupid promise to you.
I'm not going unless I know you're going too. I see you get to that safehouse and I'm out of your hair, you get it? [ He refuses to let all of this have been for nothing. ]
no subject
I'm going. Follow me if you want, just shut up.
no subject
Definitely not now. ]
Fine.
no subject
it's a slow process, but he's going. hope noctis is happy. )
we did it, we climbed the mountain
He'll do that much for him and not point them out. ]