EVENT LOG 001

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: June 27
WHAT: New Amsterdam comes under attack from an extraordinary force.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Mass destruction, violence, injury, death. Further notes at end of log.

> EVENT LOG #001

Like most cities, New Amsterdam doesn't sleep. In the early hours, as people return to their apartment complexes, they find them trembling against their foundations. Others awaken to the sound of dishes clattering in their kitchen cupboards. Sirens wail to life throughout the city, alerting citizens of seismic activity, the need to follow earthquake protocol. There's a sense of routine as vehicles stop and drop to park abruptly, metrotrains come to standstill in the middle of tunnels and bicycles are abandoned as crowds of people head for cover. Quakes are nothing new to these residents. But as the sun crests the horizon, it becomes clear that the rhythmic shakes wracking the city are not another earthquake. A huge shadow moves against the reds and oranges of the dawn sky, a colossal creature approaching the city, crushing trees beneath its massive claws as it marches through the forest surrounding New Amsterdam's walls, each footfall another impact, another rumbling tremble rolling through the ground. As images of the creature start to play on news feeds, the city seems to fall silent, whether in disbelief or sheer terror. The crowds huddled together in the city's quake shelters, families gathered under cover, the cops paused somewhere in aiding evacuation routes. The weight of this unknown threat holds everyone in inaction, as if waiting, hoping it may not be real. The creature reaches the outer wall. Designed to stand strong against most known manmade attacks, against extreme weather, against true earthquakes. The creature rears up, claws extended, and brings its weight down upon it, ripping through the structure with thunderous cracks. Once. Twice. And then it's through, widening the hole as it pushes through it, breaching into the city. NAPD officers and UNA units finally arrive at the scene, an air of desperation and bewilderment, scrambling to meet a threat which should not exist. Woefully unprepared, vehicles flying in loose, poorly held formations, they attempt to launch an attack. The police, with only their standard issue guns, have no effect on the creature, banking hard away to keep out of its path as it continues into the city undeterred. The UNA, distinct in their imposing black armor, shoulder rocket launchers, aligning their craft in the air, firing a barrage across the creature's flank in perfect sync. The creature roars, the sound shuddering monstrous through the air, but as the smoke from the rockets clears, it seems the attack made little damage to its hide. As the UNA prepare to strike again, large, bulbous pustules begin to form along the creatures sides, growing and growing before bursting in a thick spray of golden fluid. A flood of creatures drop onto the ground below, onto the nearest vehicles, sending several spinning to crash into nearby buildings as others veer wildly backwards to regroup. The creature roars again, pressing further onward as more pustules form on its back, the creatures released below letting out their own cries before dispersing, breaking out through the city streets.

> THE ATTACK

There is only one immediate – logical, sensible – answer for what's taking place. Before El chimes in, before they have real answers, Gaby knows what it is that she has to do. The quakes (frightening, worrying, undesired) means a certain series of conditions. She motions for everyone to join her near the stairs, clustering together in the shelter of the metal frame. Tremors continue: subtle, distant. The lockers above rattle in a constant, metallic rhythm, shuddering against the pressure of the attack outside. Gaby inhales a breath as she tries to ignore the constant sound above. Her lips press together – tight, a sign that she's grinding her teeth – and her eyes are wary. Once everyone has gathered, she says, "If you don't know what an earthquake is, ask your neighbor. Get down. Arms over your head. We aren't in an ideal place, but this is where you are, so deal with it." It could be worse; Morningstar's safehouses are meant to withstand worse. But there is still something claustrophobic about being crammed in this small space, the bright light flickering overhead with each shake through the ground. And then she's distracted. El chimes in on a private feed with answers. Gaby speaks, a low, uncertain tremble to her voice, "Pay attention to the feed." She goes silent. Time to try to suppress her fear. Her hands are fists as El relays the news feed to the network: "— information has reached us about the attack on New Amsterdam. An extremely large, unknown animal has breached New Amsterdam's wall and is now moving into the city. There are no confirmed casualties as yet. Local PD and UNA forces are mobilizing to meet the threat —" The news reporter continues, detailing what little information they seem to have confirmed yet as a series of four pieces of footage loop on the feed. A clear aerial shot of the creature breaking through the wall, partially obscured in a cloud of dust and debris as it pushes its way through. A blurring, frantic filming taken from beneath, looking up at the immense height of the beasts as it reacts to a persistent NAPD vehicle, the footage breaking and jerking backwards as the creature lashes one foot down at the car, crushing it down into the street. From a distance, an out-of-focus recording of the UNA attack on the creature, zooming in on the pustules forming along its back, the dark, indistinct shapes of whatever bursts out and drops to the street below. Looping back to a security feed, the inversion of night vision switching to full color as the sun breaks the horizon, the silhouette of the monster approaching, image juddering with each footstep. The ticker at the bottom of the feed identifies the feed as New Amsterdam Associated Press, rolling quake protocol throughout, and that the last seismic event hit New Amsterdam in September. The footage continues to loop, the reporter repeating, changing phrasing, but clearly limited, waiting for more to report. A loud, thunderous sound cuts through the feed 20 minutes in. Glass breaks and shatters overhead. The crash of walls being destroyed, crumbling down, machinery whipping around, the lockers overhead crushed under the weight. The safehouse shudders and shakes, dust trickling from the ceiling. The lights flicker and then blow, plunging everyone into darkness before dim, red emergency lights glimmer to life along the floor. A larger crash comes from the far end of the safehouse, daylight suddenly streaming in as the ceiling collapses inwards, rubble and metal from the warehouse above tumbling in after it. The dust settles, the extreme shaking retreats, and above, the lock on the hatch pings green. Gaby forces herself to move. Her lip is split. She wipes the back of her hand over her mouth. This is dangerous. This is terrifying. It doesn't matter – they all have to move. They have no choice. The stairs above aren't reliable, but she climbs them, pushing the hatch to open. It doesn't give immediately, but she grunts, she swears – several long, colorful "fucks" without a single care given about the children below, because they're who needs saving right now. Then the metal hatch finally gives. "Everyone out! Now!" Her throat is dry. Then she's pulling herself up, a necessary action. The scene outside is devastation, the warehouse now nothing more than a few crumbling walls stood standing. Other buildings within view are similarly destroyed, the rubble and ruin of them painting an almost exact path of where the creature had moved through. Nothing about what remains is safe, stable, or as easily giving purchase as before. "Follow me." She pauses mid-step, as information reaches her. "Our next stop is two miles away. I'm not holding your hand there, so if you want to not die, you'll follow me." Then it's time to leave. Gaby lingers around the exit, grabbing on to the hands of anyone who needs hauling out. Some of the children need two people to help them out, upset and scared, clinging to anyone who volunteers to help.

> THE CITY

The path Gaby charts is carefully chosen to skirt busier areas of the city, but in the chaos and destruction of the creature's attack, some quick improvisation is often necessary. Starting out in the derelict side of the manufacturing sector of the city, where the empty warehouses provided good cover for the safehouse, Gaby leads everyone east and inwards to the artificial river that runs through the heart of New Amsterdam. There are several overturned and smoking boats drifting on its surface, showing that even here hasn't been safe from the devastation. The river provides a guide for their movement north through the city, bringing the safehouse occupants through various districts along the way. The financial district is pristine, with tall, uniform skyscrapers; clubs, bars and restaurants cluster the streets nearby, leading through into a series of blocks dedicated to high-end fashion that thin into more general retail outlets. All of it stands eerily quiet and deserted: meals left abandoned, tables overturned, cars parked askew where they were left on the street. Some stores have taken the time to close their doors, while others stand open, empty. Any citizens still out are few and far between, running to shelter, hiding in stores with any remaining workers. The sky of the city is little more than smoke and ruin. Even at noon, it's hard to make out the sunlight on what would have otherwise been a beautiful, clear-skied day. The quake sirens continue to wail in warning, and a different type of siren surges through the city as the NAFD begin to send out their hover trucks in an attempt to stop some of the burning chaos from devastating the rest of the city. The colossal creature is visible in the slots between buildings, along some of the longer streets, and Gaby keeps an eye on its path, making sure to steer the group away from it. As careful as she is, there are still countless numbers of the smaller creatures roaming the streets. They attack any citizens they come across, leaving more dead in their wake. The NAPD, now armed and armored in preparation for the scale of this incident, are sweeping the streets, attempting to take the creatures on. Many have stood their ground, but many have also fallen, leaving clusters of vehicles and dead as grim tableaus to their efforts to protect the city. The final destination for this seemingly endless and dangerous journey loops back towards the wall and into another outer area of the city, darker and less cared for. Past several blocks of dive bars and clubs catering to more niche tastes, a few rows of abandoned stores stand in the shadow of the city's wall. A turn in an alley and a journey through the empty aisles of an abandoned supermarket takes them to another hidden hatch, another staircase leading down into the dark. The safehouse will remain open to any stragglers and anyone who wishes to go out and find strays. After a point, however, Gaby will leave everyone sitting in the supermarket until she feels like opening the safehouse's hatch up to them. The safehouse itself is near-identical in design to the previous safehouse, but hasn't been prepared for occupants: the cots will need bringing out from storage and setting up, and there are no food or medical supplies (yet).

> 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 assault on New Amsterdam will continue until the following morning. An aftermath post will be made on August 25 which will detail the closing of the event and anything further which characters may experience as the city tries to right itself. As a reminder, our first activity check will be posted on August 20. This will cover August 4-August 19. AC for all players for this round is 10 comments across 2-4 threads. AC will close on August 27. We will not be posting a warning list - if you have failed to respond to the AC post before the 27th, you will be considered idled and dropped from the game.

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