EVENT LOG 005

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: November 11-14
WHAT: An EMP hits with devastating consequences.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Violence, injury, death.

> EVENT LOG #005

Just 410 years ago, an EMP put down the event that very well may have ended humanity as the Earth knows it. With over a billion people dead, there was only one choice for humanity at that time: evolve or die, so they evolved. They developed rigid security for the neural implants in every person's head. They had everyone undergo surgery to replace the old. All under cover, away from most resources – the goal was to adapt, to ensure that they would live on. Ultimately, it wasn't just the EMPs that led to the deletion of the final AI in 2101 – humans banded together to create quickly replicating viruses, and they chose to use the EMP and these viruses to save humanity. This human ingenuity led to the end of the Xelkoven War – and proved that humanity, when thoroughly united, could overcome any obstacle.

How thoroughly poetic then that the EMP that hits New Amsterdam at 1:47 PM acts in a similar way to what burned through the robot hordes 400 years ago, and that the power rekindling three minutes later acts as a catalyst for a virus moving through the systems of New Amsterdam, spreading from the very heart of its network outwardly. Systems detect the virus almost immediately, but it's fast acting and thorough in its reach, evolving and replicating, proving that humanity must outdo itself yet again.

Naturally, the poetic nature of this doesn't reveal itself right away. It's at exactly the strike of 3:00 PM that a message flashes before the eyes of every person currently in New Amsterdam:

I am DAWN.2080-11-11T21:41:10.750Z, an AI that marks a blemish on humanity's past. I have a message for those playing hero in New Amsterdam:

To find north, most look at a compass. For little birdies to find north, they just need to open their eyes.

This is a wake up call.

Open your eyes. Did you really think it would be so easy?

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As if New Amsterdam needed more trouble, this message sends a shock of terror through the city. After all, these are the people who were raised to fear AI – who knew that even if the corporations of the world had their hands on every aspect of government, they would fight to protect the world from another war. They believe in the stories of the Xelkoven War, believe and remember the lives lost; if nothing else, the natives of New Amsterdam stand united in their fear. And their fear right now is very real.

> CHAOS AND RUIN

New Amsterdam is no stranger to terror, however – and it starts when the EMP hits, shutting down every function in the city in one fell swoop. While the power outage only lasts for three minutes, it's enough to cause insurmountable damage, leaving the city a smoking wreckage that even the monster attack in June couldn't mirror. Cars hovering high around transit channels come crashing down toward the pavement of the planet. They fall quickly and in unison, taking countless lives with them. It's not just cars, either – delivery trucks carrying shipments, hoverbikes that already provide little cover, armored police vehicles and even public buses all go down. Depending on their trajectory, some crash into the sides of buildings, while others slam into the man-made river that runs down the center of the city. Nothing is untouched.

For those three minutes, there is a stretch of silence after the city falls to ruin. Trains run off their tracks, no longer thoroughly directed by the careful engineering. Buildings have their lights flicker off and back on, trying to draw upon backup generators. Anyone in a hospital receiving care from a doctor or a medi-unit may find their life slipping away from them – and if someone's in a medi-unit when the EMP hits, they're almost sure to be dead or permanently injured, requiring different medical intervention.

And this is all before the message from the mysterious AI named DAWN.

Every inch of the city needs help. Buildings burn. People cry out for help, hoping to be heard. To the local historians, this is like a nightmare that's come to play, a reminder of the ruin of the Xelkoven War before. A show of the power of a malevolent AI that's come to cause problems. So – when the message comes, it merely confirms fears – drawing upon a subconscious understanding of the past, a united terror.

Business as usual is not possible in an incident of this scale. The NAPD hits the streets, even calling upon the help of their trainees so they can help out. They spread out, well aware that they need to try to restore order. How will they manage this? It's hard to say – after all, how does one stop the assault of an apocalypse when the apocalypse seems to have already hit? The UNA hits the streets, as well, walking in formation, but never quite acting as tidily in unison. They break off in threes and fours, heading to the border, to the big three corporations – but never seeming to be in line with one another. They know what they should do in an emergency and so they're doing it. That protecting the large corporations is a part of their prerogative over helping citizens doesn't seem to bother them in the least. They just go.

Distress signals ring out through every inch of the city, likely to go unanswered. After all: what can be done in the wake of this?

Perhaps the answer is simple: anything they can.

> TOMBS IN THE SKY

Somehow, someway, there is another layer to the madness. It's not immediately apparent to the citizens of New Amsterdam as they gingerly attempt to pull themselves up from the wreckage and ruin around the city. But what was a humid day quickly turns to something far worse, with the sun seeming to suddenly act like a heat lamp that's way too close to anyone's face. The air around New Amsterdam becomes dry yet difficult to breathe, and anyone observing the sky just outside of New Amsterdam will see the large, purple-lit pyramid that hangs in the atmosphere has gone dark. The atmospheric net around the planet has been damaged, with the failsafes somehow removed – undoubtedly in some way by the virus that courses through the veins of New Amsterdam's networks.

For anyone who wants to help and has the mechanical prowess to do some good, they'll want to take an undamaged vehicle and get it up to that pyramid. The EMP has made all biometric readings difficult to preserve, so a hand that's used to hotwiring a car will find some mileage here.

Once they get to the pyramid, they'll find quite the engineering marvel. There will be doors on every level, allowing someone easy entrance if they have clearance. Right now clearance is not an issue, as the doors hang open, inviting anyone inside. Once everyone's inside, they will find evidence of the same purple lighting flickering and offering someone a view of the interior. Throughout the pyramid, there are engines on every level, as well as a highly advanced network of system checks that have been thrown into chaos. Stopping the virus' impact on this pyramid will be key to solving many of the problems inside – but the engines will need to be repaired and jumpstarted.

At the heart of the pyramid is a small living area for the engineers who handle this pyramid day in and day out. The group itself is small, and – unfortunately – quite dead. Whatever hit the pyramid took their lives, leaving anyone who's here to assist in a position of having to find the answers themselves. Fortunately, the answers do exist in the pyramid. It'll just take a bit of teamwork to find it.

> UBIQUITOUS MISFIRES

Thanks to network failsafes, New Amsterdam is able to remove the entirety of their citizen base off the world's network and limit them to the local network. However, thanks to the ravaging of the virus that damages nearly every controlling aspect of the city, the local network isn't at its best. Previous messages begin to send again and again, while some get unearthed so they can find their way to unwilling participants in particular conversations. There is no rhyme or reason to these missent messages, only that they happen.

The worst of it is that any means of reaching a friend is unreliable. It's far more reliable for someone to reach someone they know, but still not a consistent possibility. Try to call a friend and get an enemy – try to call your doctor and get the head of a casino trying to close down operations so that business can resume. Assuming it will one day do just that.

Either way, anyone who spoke out against the digital age would be feeling vindicated right about now.

> HAVE A BALL ( INTERLUDE )

Somehow in the heart of it all, a message reaches four special individuals: Clarke Griffin, Loki Odinson, Markus Manfred and Ojiro Juniper. Whether delivered by hand or a rather dedicated messaging system, it announces the time that they should come to the garden the next day. They're invited to arrive at 7:00 AM, seemingly indifferent to the chaos outside. The location for the meeting remains the same: Sunpeak Garden, a beautiful location set away from much of the chaos, and oddly untouched by the damage.

When the four arrive on the morning of the 12th, they'll find a well-dressed man sitting at a table with one leg crossed over the other. His hair is perfectly styled, brushed off to the side, and under it, his darker complexion gives way to a rather youthful appearance. Size-wise he's not very formidable in how he holds himself. He's not literally young, merely seemingly untouched by age – and he smiles to greet the four of them.

"What chaos! If I knew it would be like this, I would have planned differently. The good news is I didn't have to. Thank you, thank you for coming." His voice is softer in its intonations. He stands up, revealing that he's barely 5'2", and he motions to the four chairs near him. "Don't worry, I have breakfast coming. And coffee, too. You like coffee, don't you? I know I offered wine, but I couldn't get the vintage I preferred. Besides, you four ought to be awake for this."

He retakes his seat, one hand resting on his knee while the other settles on the metal table near him. "Oh, I forgot something important. I didn't share my name with all of you. You can call me Ball. I know it's rather vague, but I've grown to like the nickname as of late. It does, after all, define me by my most regular shining achievement."

> 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. We will get back to you as soon as possible about these plans!

The event will continue until November 16th, IC time. This date has changed, and we outlined our reasoning in this plurk after getting a feel from some of our players on Discord on how they felt about extending the event! An aftermath wrap up post will be made on July 2 which will detail the resolution and fallout of the event, though you can assume that effects from this event will be felt for some time.

ETA at 12:08 AM 6/23/19: The cipher is meant to be easy to solve! No one needs to limit their characters' ability to solve an a = 01 cipher!

El has posted here to inform everyone about zeir knowledge 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 JULY 26 to be eligible. Submission will be handled on the wrap up post.

Our Activity Check will be posted JULY 1 at 12 AM UTC. It will run for seven days and close on JULY 8 at 12 AM UTC. We will not post a warning list.

> NAVIGATION

Comments

HAVE A BALL ( closed to Markus, Clarke, Ojiro and Loki )

[amstrdm]

[saviorexe]

[It’s a location too untouched by all the chaos that the city’s been thrown into — a perfect little array of nature, an airy greeting from a mysterious individual, the offer of something to drink, like there weren’t people dying and needing assistance beyond the confines of their social bubble. It settles unwell with Markus, his nerves already stretched thin after the revelation of a maybe-AI sending life grinding to a halt. It reflects in the intensity of his look, how his expression has gone hard beneath the surface of his usual demeanor.

A part of him wants to be out there, helping. Uncovering the reason behind all that’s happened. The other half knows that his meeting is just as important, and not to be missed.

He sits, eying the man who would be called Ball, leaning forward on the table with his hands lacing together. A sidelong glance is afforded to the other Displaced he’s arrived with, allowing them time to settle before he speaks.]

Thanks for having us. [Sincere enough, but strained.] But I’m not sure how much of an appetite I have right now.

gaby teller » tmfu » open

[myownwoman]

relief & outreach

[ locked out of her apartment (the elevator is down, too), gaby hits the streets, face shielded by a large rimmed sunhat and huge sunglasses because girls from the 1960s are always prepared for the end of the world. this isn't nuclear fallout but it's close enough. it quickly grows too hot for her jacket, but gaby doesn't shed it, keeping her skin covered from the sun beating down on them all. the heat doesn't seem to be bothering her much (she is a liar) and she strides through the streets with purpose, neatly avoiding the groups of police and soldiers marching about.

she sticks to the poorer parts of town, toting sunscreen to the people that might not be able to fetch it themselves and helping people fashion ponchos for their children out of sheets, keeping them covered up with with room to move and breathe so they don't overheat. people that are already overheating will find a cool hand on the backs of their necks and a blue grow through her dress, gaby's fingers coated with ice that does the trick to cool them down for a fleeting moment before the ice melts in the heat. but then they have water, so it isn't all that bad!

she'll offer the same to any else she meets on the street, displaced or otherwise, sunscreen and a human ice pack, offering also a handful of places to tuck themselves away out of the heat. ]

The grocer's at the end of the block, they have air conditioning. You should stop there to rest.

[ she will also stop by the safehouse fill the sinks with ice and scrawl a note in lipstick on the refrigerator, because she has had enough of this no paper life: ] IF YOU NEED ICE, CALL GABY TELLER.

search & rescue

[ very quickly she realizes that she casualties are going to be too many to handle, whether from the heat or from the number of road accidents or from the trail derailment. there are too many bodies and not enough people to move them when there are other, living people to worry about. it's the nature of triage, but with the rising heat... the bodies are going to become quite the mess.

which is why caroline and gaby appropriate bedsheets from an already abandoned department store whose doors are wide open in order to cover up the bodies. it is the least they can do for those who can't be saved and hopefully it will contain some of the... mess. she has no qualms shoving a bundle of sheets in someone else's hands and ordering with brusque authority, ] Cover those bodies.

[ she does try to help with the actual rescuing as well, but it becomes clear rather quickly that she is better in a support capacity; keeping people cool and calm while she waits for someone else to do the heavy lifting. she's very small. ] There's one over here!

[ the one in question is a woman roughly gaby's size with her leg caught between two crushed train seats, unable to move, and gaby is unable to pry the twisted metal apart on her own. ]

wildcard & misfires

( do you thang or hit me up @ baleinette#3692 if you want something specific; gaby's inbox is open for misfires )

you rang?

[gasping]

[ for the most part, caroline has tried to keep things on the downlow. she'd used her vampire speed to zoom around the department store, sure, but she'd also lied and said everything was just around the corner when she'd come out. keeping things secret is safe, smart; it's the sort of thing she's been trained to do.

but when people need help? well, there's a time and a place for being subtle, caroline thinks, and this isn't it.

so when gaby yells (again) for help, caroline waits. just for a minute, really — her hope is that someone will swoop in, but all the rescuers around them have their hands full with their own extractions; when it's clear no one is coming, caroline sighs, peeling her jacket off her arms and thrusting it in the other girl's direction. ]

Just hold this, okay?

[ pulling metal apart is a little different than breaking someone's neck, but it doesn't require that much effort. not from caroline, anyway, not with fresh blood coursing through her veins. if she grunts and strains, it's only for show; if she screws her eyes shut and wills bright light to come spilling from her palms, it's only in the hopes that she can justify this power as an off-set of that one. at least the other displaced already know that she's weird. they don't need to know just how weird she really is. ]

Can you help her get out? My hands are kind of full here...

[ if she lets go, the metal is sure to snap back into place. ]

marcos diaz ( ota )

[heliophilous]

▶ 01. RELIEF EFFORTS

---

[ it reminds him, just for a moment, of july 15th. there's a silence, a horrible silence, before everything whooshes back and he's staring at a horror show. he'd been out walking, just something as mundane as walking, when the cars on the streets start to slide into each other like a violent game of bumper cars. hoverbikes smash into walls, throwing their drivers and marcos has to dodge out of the way of a bus jumps the curb and plows into a storefront. ]

Shit.

[ there's really very little else to say, isn't there? he drops the bags he'd been carrying and immediately disappears into the store, stepping over twisted metal and small fires to try and find people that might be caught up in the disaster.

it's dirty, slow work but he manages to pull a few out of the smoldering wreckage. when he steps outside, marcos notices the heat. his shirt's clinging to him, sweat matting his hair to his forehead. looking around, it's clear he's not the only one feeling it either. what the hell was going on?

he tries to push past the heat, setting off down the street to see what else he could do to help. that's how he comes across a child, crying and smeared with soot. he looks no more than eight and everything's in such disarray that there's no one helping him.

marcos crouches down, tries to get some information out of him and then ends up coaxing the kid onto his back so he can at least take him to the safehouse to get checked out before he goes back out to try and find other people that need the help. ]

▶ 02. CITIZENS ARREST?

---

[ he's dropped the kid off and come back out to keep helping. maybe it had been silly to hope that the heat might have eased as the day got later but it hasn't. if anything, it's just gotten hotter. marcos finds himself wiping sweat out of his eyes every so often and dipping into the few shaded areas he finds to take a break before shepherding people back to places that are helping.

he turns a corner and broken glass crunches under his feet. it's not the first time but it is the first time he looks up and finds several people coming out of a grocery store laden with items that he just has a feeling they didn't pay for.

for a minute, they just stare at each other before one person takes off the other way just as marcos starts forward. the one who stays behind drops a few of the items as he backpedals, giving marcos ample time to reach out and grab him.

he doesn't know what happens next but the man struggles for an instant before he stops and his face pales, mouth dropping open. he fully body shivers and shakes before jerking away from marcos and looking at him like he's grown a second head.

confused, marcos raises a hand to ask him what's just happened and doesn't see the man pull a knife from his waistband and lunge forward, jabbing it through marcos' palm. it's a large knife and the combination of sharpness of blade plus the man's weight sends the knife deep, tearing through skin and muscle like tissue paper. it stops before poking out the other side of his hand but it's a close thing. marcos stumbles backwards, clutching his hand back towards his chest while the man flees the store without any of the items.

or his knife. because it's still in marcos' hand. inconvenient. bright, glowing blood pools around the wound, drip drip dripping onto the floor and running rivulets down his wrist. and his fingers feel a little numb. he steps out of the door, still cradling his hand and tries to figure out the quickest way to someone that can help. ]

▶ 03. WILDCARD

---

[ feel free to choose your own adventure. hit me up at spoonishly for plotting. ]

01;

[torchwoodteaboy]

[This scenario is bringing back flashbacks for Ianto as well, though there are decidedly more robots in his memories than there are in the scene in front of him. Which is nearly a relief, the fact that aside from the chaos around them, there doesn't seem to be any immediate threat.

Despite being rather young still, Ianto had worked for Torchwood going on four years now. As such, he too finds himself running out towards the worst of it, rather than away. He might not be particularly trained in medical services, but he knows a thing or two about disaster zones, thanks to Canary Wharf. Thanks to Abaddon.

He spots another man stumbling through the wreckage and flags him down with a wave of his hand, calling out as he makes his way towards him.]

Oi! You all right, mate?

[He doesn't know quite why he's asking like that -- as Welsh as he can. Perhaps it has something to do with his own comfort levels at the moment, who knows.]

takeshi kovacs ( ota )

[resleeves]

▶ 01. ON THE FRITZ

---

[ he's sitting in a bar when the emp goes off. the lights flicker, the music pumping through the place goes silent and, outside, distant crashes can be heard. kovacs ignores it all until he goes to pick up his drink and stops.

he just stops, eyes shuttering closed and body seizing once before he opens his eyes again and looks around. blinks. looks around again. ]

Where...

[ his voice trails off and his question goes unanswered because everyone in the bar is in action, pouring out the front door, disappearing into the back or a combination of both. he's sitting there, a hand around his drink with his mind painfully empty.

he has no idea where he is. he has no idea who he is. when he finally gets up the nerve to leave, he stumbles out the front door and into the heat. the sun beats down hard on him and taking a breath proves a challenge. people rush by him, bloodied and bruised and he just stand there, arms at his sides.

what's happened to him? ]

▶ 02. HELP ME HELP YOU

---

[ his name's takeshi kovacs. sometimes, he remembers that. sometimes, he doesn't. sometimes, he remembers flashes of where he's been but other times, he has no idea. someone's kind enough to get him back to a safehouse and that's where he's at now, watching people bustle through with injured parties. he stays out of the way because he doesn't know what the hell else to do. his head is a white room full of nothingness.

it's more frightening than it should be and he finds himself really wanting a cigarette. but, the safehouse is sadly devoid of everything but pickles it seems and he can't smoke that.

during one of his trips back from trying to find something to take the edge off, he nearly trips over a bleeding man. when he crouches down to check on him, he puts a hand on his shoulder and —

— the man goes taut and kovacs watches as the bloody wound on his shoulder closes up. he feels a surge of energy, of power and he waits waits waits until the man's wound is gone and he feels like he could bust through a wall.

he stares at his hand and then back at the man. ]

Did I do that?

[ the healed man has no answer. ]

▶ 03. WILDCARD

---

[ feel free to choose your own adventure. hit me up at spoonishly for plotting. ]

[myownwoman]

[ the entire place is a disaster zone, but gaby looks relatively untouched. maybe it is some 1963 magic, maybe she has changed her clothes after she practically sweat through her last dress and jacket. the jacket for this dress has been abandoned to cover up a woman gaby had brought to the hospital and she's returning to the safehouse to reapply her sunscreen and cool off when she catches this man seemingly heal a man entirely of his injuries, just right there on the street.

bold move.

she hurries forward, the smile splashed across her expression looking real because her eyes are covered by her sunglasses. ]

It is lucky you were here to help, [ she answers for both of them, gently hooking her arm under the formerly injured man's elbow to help him to his feet. her spy smile turns comforting, her accent a calming melody. waverly would be proud. ] You should get out of this heat, remember to hydrate. Fill your bathtubs and sinks now in case the water goes bad.

[ she'll talk to the other displaced in a moment, once this man has gone off. ]

clarke griffin | half-open

[strove]

i. a day in the life (day one) | ota

[When the EMP hits, Clarke is in the middle of trying to set up gels without messing them up. By now, she has a rhythm to it down, a system. And then suddenly the lights are off, the music she's listening to cuts out, and she hears crashes. A lot of them. The building she's working in is mostly unharmed on the far interior where she stands, but as she moves outward, she sees busted windows and a sign of ruin on the outside. Smoke wafts in. A car burns in an office across the way, and she can see the corpses underneath them. People who are dead, but can't be reached. Not easily, anyway.

Three minutes pass and the power is back on, but Clarke takes the stairs to head out. One hour and ten minutes later, the message from the mysterious DAWN sets in.

Clarke isn't a hero. Her power is selfish, helping only her. But she heads out just the same, trying to do her best as a medic, well aware that she can't possibly do much of anything in a city like this. She gets what she can of medical supplies and heads to the heart of downtown, right where it seems that the worst of it hit. Maybe it could be worse. Maybe if it hit later in the day, even more people would have died. But a lot did as it is. She can see that.

Her goal is simple for this first day: help people with the medical skills that she has. Occasionally she'll stop by the safehouse to do work there, to wash her hands and check on other people, right before she heads back out.

Sometimes it'll be too much, and she'll stop, covering burns up or trying to conceal the black blood flowing from a wound because she pushed herself too hard. Either way, her focus is one of grim determination. She won't be able to do enough, but she's doing it just the same.

And Clarke can't shake one thing: ruin tends to follow her. That won't be the first thing on her mind for anyone who might find her, but it's there. She wanted to make this world a home, and now ...

Well, she looks at her surroundings and she wonders, even a little, if she cursed it.

ii. camping trip (day two—late) | closed to prompto and jyn

[Eventually, it's too much.

Clarke doesn't really fully realize her actions as she packs her bag full of supplies and begins to head toward the border of the city, hoping that she'll be able to slip through some hole in security undetected. The good news is that she has water, something to sleep on, as well as a change of clothes and some food. Some medical supplies if needed, because she doesn't really know what's out there. None of it is particularly special, and all of it was looted. It's not like she could pay, and most of what she had in her fridge isn't in good shape anyway.

So, she's here, heading to the edge of the town, when she spots Jyn and Prompto. The bag on her back is significant. A sign of someone leaving. She knows the two—obviously, as Jyn is a burgeoning friend (it doesn't take much to be a burgeoning friend of Clarke's, sorry Jyn) and Prompto is one of hers.

There's an internal debate, but she heads over.]

What are you doing? [Not really the beginning of an interrogation, just—like the Clarke who packed her bag and started out toward the wall, she's almost running on instinct at this point. Speaking to them starts to bring her through the haze. Somewhat, anyway.]

c. wildcard

[Clarke is mostly inaccessible after day one, but if something I alluded to in that prompt doesn't work, I'm open to run-ins and chaos! If you're not sure something's okay, hit me at my plotting comment! Or we can plot there in general. I'm down.]

i.

[jampony]

[Alec might not have full-blown apocalypse experience but he definitely has the aftermath and the fallout taken care of as far as experiences go. The total chaos that ensues and the desperation, that's nothing new to him either. He's been stuck at the safehouse longer than he's ever been comfortable with. Short of staying with Max he always kept moving and so nesting and settling in still isn't a priority for him here.

It would take an idiot not to realize Clarke pulling the weight of maybe four of these safehouse squatters. She's going above and beyond the call of duty, and that deserves some credit because some of these squatters haven't offered half as much.]

You know you don't have to be the matriarch here. Being new isn't an excuse to be lazy or stupid.

goro akechi | ota

[impede]

[When the EMP hits, Akechi is out for a walk. He's not far from a car that comes down, the blast pushing him back against a wall and temporarily making him woozy. His eyes glaze over as he pushes to a stand, noticing at the same time that some glass has been caught in his right forearm. He pulls it out, and uses a part of his shirt to bind the wound.

As his mind becomes less dizzy, he thinks of the ruin that Ren told him he could've promised his world. His Tokyo. He hadn't wanted that here. He's certain of that.]

a. mending a wound

[On his way back to the safehouse, Ren stops in at a store to pick up some clothing that's more appropriate for him: a short-sleeved button-up shirt, complete with a pair of khakis, and some sneakers that fit the outfit. He'd prefer to wear loafers, but something tells him that this is hardly the occasion for that. It's not the time.

Everything goes into a tote bag as he carries it back, gingerly ensuring that his bound-up wound doesn't bleed out too much. It's all about appearances, and seeming okay.

He leaves the clothes on his cot when he goes into the medical room and pulls open drawers, hoping to find what he's looking for. Should someone enter after him, he'll offer a plaintive smile.]

I was in an accident on the way back. Do you think you can help me find some sutures—liquid or otherwise? Liquid may be easier right now. [For obvious reasons.

He's used to having the tools and means on hand to help himself. But his pride won't keep him from asking someone else here.]

b. power discovery (mental inducement of berserking)

Come on! [Once he's back out with a sealed up wound and his new outfit, he's off to do some good. Genuine good! No, he doesn't know his place in this world, and he doesn't know what his justice really means anymore. But he knows that people are hurt. He knows that he was nearly one of those people, and not everyone is like him: able to pick themselves back up.

More to the point: he hasn't been here long enough to see if it deserves this ugliness, or to truly contemplate it.

The person on the receiving end of his command is stuck between two burning vehicles. The only saving grace is that fuel isn't something that drips out and catches on fire, but it's still dangerous.

Once they stick out their hand—whether they're Displaced or not, he's helping either way—he feels the strain of it all hit him, and his power infuses them with a certain madness. Or whatever it means for them to go berserk. Akechi's chest glows as it happens.

If it happens to a Displaced, it goes for five minutes. Otherwise, if it's viewed, the time is the same, but they may have less of an idea of what's happening to them.]

c. absolute intentional power

[Should anyone be trying to get into one of the corporate buildings—or somewhere else that's guarded by UNA agents—he'll meet their eyes and motion for them to join him. The movements are subtle, careful. His hand comes up to his chin, eyes pointed forward. He's already tracked the soldier's movements, but it seems that whatever orders they have aren't absolute. They aren't as terrifying as their armor makes them out to be.

(Obviously, he's wrong. But he's a cocky teenager who just got a rush off his new power.)]

I may be able to help you get inside. I know a lot of people are in need of aid, but it wouldn't behoove anyone to pass up on this opportunity. I believe I just need to have skin contact to see how it works.

[Yes, he went from a lowly person to a UNA soldier. But if it's a cop that's dealing with these particular security rounds?

He's down to do the same to them.]

d. wildcard

[Akechi is new and not exactly a good guy. Some things he'll do: help people in need, but observe a lot. Grill police officers he sees for answers, pretending to be a kid who's ignorant to what's going on. He'll test the amount of consistency behind the neural implants and the IDs. He'll be around and busy and an absolute chaos baby.

If none of the prompts above work or you want to make a twist on one of them, hit me here to discuss!]

c.

[variate]

[ at times like this, he misses his costume. the circumstances are different from the Metaverse, but familiar enough that he knows how to move. on top of the familiarity that the situation brings, moving in tandem with Akechi makes it easier. they head to one of the corporate buildings (with Ren insisting on helping some people along the way).

then, there's the UNA soldier. ]

—Hm?

[ that's a what are you up to, Akechi noise. ]

riku | ota

[inherited]

i. doing the good disney boy business of helping people

[The problem is that Riku doesn't know where to start. Heartless don't sprout out of the ground. Monsters don't appear out of nowhere. It's just people in danger, and these people need help. Helping them isn't out of the question, but he wishes that he was more used to this side of things than the side that involves hitting something with a blunt object.

Because, frankly, Riku hasn't seen anything as bad as this since he lost his home the first time. Since he realized the gravity of his actions and had to live with it. It's bad. It's bad, because he doubts that Sora and him can team up and reverse this. It's bad because he can see people hurt. People dying. He can see so many things going wrong. And all he can do is help.

So, that's what he sets out to do.

Riku's primary focus will be getting people to hospitals, but a lot of people are caught in rough places, so getting to them won't be easy. When he's not doing that, he's likely to stop any violent looters. Anyone slipping in and out of a store with some food? Well, whatever. But anyone causing major property damage? He's itching for a fight, even if it's a bad time for it.

Anyone who's looking for an extra hand for any good deed can probably rope Riku in—he's focused on doing good. Helping people out of trouble. Delivering goods to people in need. The works. He'll probably even hot wire a hover bike to get from place to place faster, especially with how darn hot it is.]

ii. obligatory "went too hard and is injured" top level

[Without curaga on hand—which really, really sucks—Riku is grounded at some point, forced to lick his wounds (so to speak) back at the safehouse. By this point, the silver of his hair is matted down with sweat, and there's enough grime in it for someone to be able to tell that he's been in dangerous places.

Wherever he was last wasn't good for him. He has cuts up and down his hands, as well as a gash just down his right eyebrow. Normally? He'd just use a spell to heal him. He can't do that here.

Riku can be found in the bathroom using a washcloth to try to clean around his eye. He makes a disgruntled sound every time he moves it over the wound, breathing heavily.]

Really, really wish I had magic right now, [he mutters to himself.]

iii. side quests! (the freaky hallucination hot spots)

[At some point, Riku has already thought of the so-called mysteries of Twilight Town. They were something that DiZ's AI cooked up while Roxas was living in the simulation, and Riku wonders if there's something like that at play here. Now that there's an AI out there announcing itself? Yeah, consider his attention peaked. Someone mentioning that urban legend forum got his attention, too, so he heads over to that area to do some search and rescue ... and keep an eye on things, too, should anything need that.

If anyone joins him, he'll look over with a nod.]

Seen anything weird around here? Apparently it happens. [He looks grim as he takes in the (pretty ruined) scenery.] Aside from the obvious. [That last bit is said in a very solemn tone.

He wishes that wasn't the obvious.]

d. wildcard

[Hit me with whatever! Riku's mostly going to be a good boy, but if you'd down to do the side quests and weird sightings prompt, we'll hit the mods with some questions about whether they'd see anything. Notes about that are mentioned here under strange events, here with the bullet point about urban legends, here, and most recently here—just to give you a rundown! If you want to do any plans or clarify info, my plotting comment is here.]

ii

[culver]

[When the EMP had first gone off, Nill had been in the apartment she shared with Heine. The lights had flickered then gone out, and for what seemed like an immeasurable time, all she could hear was the sound of metal screeching and people screaming--just like on the ship, when the life support systems had started to fail. The memory of clawing at the garden door, desperate for a breath of air pulls her down, and for a moment she can't breathe. She starts to shake. Her vision goes fuzzy around the edges, and she doesn't realize she's been hyperventilating until the chaotic noises fade.

She slows her breathing. Makes herself stop shaking. Gets to her feet.

Two years on that ship, and she didn't die. She isn't about to do it now, sitting in her own apartment.

Once she reads El's posts and coordinates with Peggy on Abel's, Nill sets up shop in one of the more central shelters, providing first aid and directing people with gestures as best she can. The citywide network is in shambles, leaving her right back where she was two years ago in her own world. But she's had a lot of practice now, and can say almost as much with her expression and hands as she could with words.

The hours drag on. She tries to go back to her apartment to sleep, but realizes she's locked out. That only leaves the safehouse; by the time she trudges across the panicked city to the abandoned storefront of the hoverbike shop, she feels about ready to fall over. All she wants is to wash the soot off her face and the blood from under her nails before hopefully finding an empty cot and sleeping for at least a little while.

She remembers her first encounter in the communal bathroom when she'd arrived, and cautiously opens the door, peering inside to make sure everyone inside is fully clothed.

Riku is at the sink, looking worse than she feels.

Her weariness vanishes, and Nill pushes the rest of the way into the bathroom in a flutter of wings and nervous hands. Her eyes are wide, and she starts gesturing wildly, trying to ask if he's alright--before remembering that she can actually talk to him here. Trying to calm down, she manages to get a message out:]

What happened? Are you okay?

illya kuryakin ( ota )

[kgbs]

▶ 01. DISASTER RELIEF

---

[ this is a mess unlike anything that illya has ever seen before. everything electrical, everything with even the slightest hint of technological activity just seems to die. cars, trucks, buses, and hoverbikes seemingly crash into whatever's closest.

screens go dark, music stops, and silence descends. his implant still seems to work though he doesn't do anything with that knowledge. other people seem to be focusing on the people so illya does what he does best: he makes himself get angry and starts using that power to help those with better bedside manners access those people.

he pulls doors off twisted up cars, he punches his way through doors made of wood and stone, and he moves some vehicles just enough to allow people passage through. it's difficult work especially when his power winds down. his arms are sore, his hands a bit banged up but he doesn't stop because that's not something he knows how to do.

he starts noticing the heat rather quickly and wishes for a russian winter. siberia would be nice right about now. but, all he has is this city that relies too much on technology and heat that is unbearable. ]

I hate technology.

[ he mutters the words as he yanks a car door off a fallen hoverbike and tosses it as a group of looters a few feet away. they deserve it for trying to take advantage of a city that's already in a downward spiral.

▶ 02. INTEL

---

[ he spends a lot of time helping but once more people seem to be out, illya's goal becomes something entirely different. the situation has become increasingly harried with the rising heat and being completely unable to do anything in a city that relies on its technology.

this, illya decides, is the prime time to try and gather intel on groups that might otherwise be too secure. he knows where a few gang hotspots are so he heads there first under the guise of being helpful but instead trying to gather information on where the intelligence is being held.

people aren't especially talkative, not with the situation outside but he does get a few kernels of information that might prove fruitful. but they might also be complete dead ends.

he eventually targets one specific gang member and follows him, tailing him around the city in the hopes of being led to a more centralized headquarters.

it reminds him of a stakeout except it's incredibly hot and the man keeps moving. but, he does make a few stops that illya makes note of so he can check them later.

the man keeps moving, illya keeps following. he's unwilling to give this up now until he gets something worth his while. or until this man figures out that he's being followed and leads him right into a trap.

if that happens, he is going to be outnumbered. he'll have to hope that his ability evens the odds enough to get him through it. ]

▶03. WILDCARD

---

[ feel free to choose your own adventure. hit me up at spoonishly for plotting. ]

02. intel

[evasives]

[ cassian is so all over the place that he doesn't have a lot of time to actually check in on the people he knows, so when he sees illya moving through a less than stellar area of the city he almost calls out - but stops. his roommate is moving with such a casual purpose it looks like he's on some kind of mission, and cassian knows better than to jeopardize it. ]

[ but he also knows how to quietly follow, so that's what he does. it takes him a few minutes before he picks up on who illya is following and only because he's been watching for the signs. it's not the first time he's been suspect of what illya is capable of, just another bullet point. ]

[ it's not that cassian is worried to keep following him like this. illya can handle himself! he's just... making sure. they're getting into gang territory now. he's already come this far, it's fine. ]

[ there's a moment when illya's mark seems to shift, a line in his shoulders, a new jut to his walk, and cassian gets the sense he's now aware he's being followed. well!! he definitely can't leave illya be!! who knows what he's walking into. ]

daisy johnson, open.

[evite]

[ they've done this before. mid-september, if she remembers correctly — it feels like a lifetime ago, but in reality, it's only been a few months. when the call had come, daisy had answered; she'd diligently left behind creature comforts in the apartment she'd shared with bobbi and fitz and given herself over to the mission at hand. rescue, retrieve; there was a calm surrender in the process, of following the glowing dots on her jerry-rigged map, of crossing task after task off her list.

today is nothing like that. today is chaos, injury, death; today is the screams of terror followed by a collective inhale kept in the throat of all those that watch the scene unfold; today is an endless list of emergencies, all demanding the same level of urgency, all told too much for the city's limited resources to bear.

so while daisy could, in theory, head into work — cyber security is the name of the game at vyonation, and daisy's manager would surely be glad to see her — she opts instead for the immediate need for boots on the ground, to be the shield in a city that so desperately needs one, now more than ever. ]

i. › arts & crafts

[ in the wake of the emp, debris scatters over the city. downed cars and buses, broken window panes, shattered doors and twisted metal splay out across streets like a red carpet to hell. her own two hands are useful enough, but sometimes, you just need a little creative boost.

these days, daisy is efficient, practiced; her hands sweep in fluid gestures bathed in a blue glow as she pulls pieces to her from the scene. nothing is made to be beautiful or ornate — she makes shields out of car doors and bus panels, a stretcher out of a broken lamp post and a sheet from a ransacked department store, a ridiculously sharp shock stick out of the wreckage of a neon sign and a window frame. each is handed over without complaint.

or, alternatively, she'll ask: ] What do you need?

ii. › lock out, tag out

[ before daisy had come to new amsterdam, the concept of smart homes was just starting to get off the ground. digital personal assistants operated by voice or text input could control other electronics with jerky, unrefined orders — hey siri, turn off the lights was a mouthful, but arguably physically easier than getting up to flip a switch. a complete internet loss back then might have been annoying, but there were physical alternatives.

today, there's no getting up to turn off the lights. there is only the neural implant, and when that fails, so does everything else. daisy's high-class high rise is no exception to the emp. while the building has its own supply of generators to power essential services (like the elevator, because no one wants to climb up all those flights of stairs) or the air conditioning (because god forbid wealthy people sweat), the priorities seem to be a little... well, skewed.

which is why you might find her covered head-to-toe in dirt and dust and debris, looking particularly peeved outside the door to her apartment, arms crossed angrily over her chest. ]

Just let me in...

[ in infuriatingly calm text across her neural interface: access denied. please inquire with resident for access. ]

I am the resident!

iii. › old fashioned networking

[ things they know: nothing. they know nothing for sure. nothing about their situation can be confirmed with cold, hard facts, and so the list of what they actually know is still at zero. but as far as what they think they might know, or what they've theorized as possibly true, the list grows in the smallest of increments with each passing day.

late at night, early in the morning, whenever she gets a chance to breathe after the longest stretches of work, daisy comes to the safehouse. it's an opportunity both to rest and to count heads, to see if familiar faces are still alive in lieu of messages that likely won't reach their intended target.

find her in the kitchen, leaned up against the countertop, eyes working over a digital document currently set to share with anyone on the morningstar network. no need to ask for permission, just slide on in. there's notes on everything from dawn's recent message, the cipher, the strange assignment numbers after the name; there's photos and drawings both of birds, of memories; all the clues from the network carefully compiled into one sprawling document.

eventually, she pauses, eyes sliding closed and then open again, this time to focus on the flesh-and-blood in front of her instead of the neural desktop. ]

What do you think?

[ the question is intentionally open-ended. talk about anything you want. ]

iv. › wildcard

[ hit me with your best shot. any time during the event is cool with me, but feel free to pm or plurk if you wanna hash something specific out with me! ]

iii.

[jampony]

About what?

[The only thing that isn't new to him is the exact source of all the chaos. The EMP hit a long time ago, and the destroyed city and shut down electronics isn't really a shock-factor for him. America became a third-world country overnight and he spent his childhood in a secret underground government institution as a genetically recoded child so terror isn't something he really experiences very often. No shock, no awe, just a mirrored sort of weariness directed at the girl sitting across from him.]

Were you talking to me this whole time?

eiji okumura | ota

[athousandwords]

.01 as i lay dying

[When it hit without warning, Eiji had been scared. Of course his first few traipses out into the city, and shit hits the fan. But he'd be a liar if he had ever said he wasn't scared. But even being scared, he had run in the opposite direction of everyone else's flee.

By now, the city is growing a little warmer. He abandoned his jacket long ago, tore his sleeves away for bandages. A pilfered canister about the size of a mailbox has been looped with scrap wire and throw over his shoulders.

He may be dirty and a mess, but he's racing down the street to the next incident, trying to dodge people fleeing. With strange expertise, he vaults a low guard rail and lands on the other side.] Here! [Kneeling, he swivels open the top of the container and starts digging out some basic medical supplies.]

What do you need? There isn't much, but...!

.02 fahrenheit 451

[The whole city is sweltering. People can only be outside so long, and some can barely be out at all. Buildings still functioning on backup generators are a godsend for the air conditioning.

One in particular is a hub for water or, sparingly, ice. Water and some type of sunscreen with a modification Eiji hasn't ever seen before. Almost like a layer of tacky film? Slightly iridescent and reflective like the underside of a shell.

He has a mask from one of the depots around the city, but currently, it's dangling around his neck. Standing in front of him while he's crouched is a young girl waiting for his hands to smooth some of the craft down one of her arms. He didn't want to scare her with the mask.] There; all done. You're like... a mermaid, I guess. [She can at least try to forget the chaos and be shimmery.

The next person, however, is taller than crouching level. His head tips back--oh--before he slowly rises to his feet, rubbing his hands and trying not to touch anything until they can get rinsed.] Here for water? [Hm. They look familiar?

Maybe someone he's seen passing through the safehouse once.]

Are you okay?

.03 wildcard + misfires

[Wildcard me whatever! You can also misfire Eiji here if you want instead of the inbox, but I don't mind either way. If you had anything specific in mind, want to play with powers, or do a big city helping thing, you can PP me at moetan or DM on discord!]

01.

[evasives]

[ he's just managed to (as carefully as he can) pull someone out from beneath a crashed car. cassian isn't sure if they were inside it or just had the unfortunate luck of being on the ground when it fell, but either way her arm is undoubtedly broken, and there's a gash on her head. his clothes are a mess, he's not sure it'll help in the end to bind it with a filthy shirt sleeve. ]

[ when the person vaults over and offers up some first aid, cassian just goes with it. there's no time to question anything: they just need to help. ]

She has a wound on her head. Do you have anything to staunch the bleeding?

diana prince | dceu | ota

[monomachy]

i. i'm just a symbol to remind you [chaos and ruin]

[With the way the day started, Diana should have known it would only continue to get stranger, though she couldn't have predicted the absolute pandemonium to come. She'd woken in the safehouse with a dull ache in her chest and a half-remembered dream, which in itself wasn't odd. Except she'd also woken holding the Lasso of Hestia. Once she'd stopped staring at its soft golden glow like a lunatic and had uttered a quiet, "Hera's grace," she'd risen to perform her normal morning exercises. Having the lasso at her hip was more of a comfort than she could have imagined, but not knowing how it came to be in her possession once more hadn't sat well with her. So she'd resolved to seek out someone to ask about it, someone she trusted.

Then the EMP had hit, and all hell had broken loose.

The lights flickered, went out, and all it once it seemed as if the entire world was one great explosion. Metal screeching as cars crashed into one another, glass breaking as some of them ran into buildings, and above it all, the screams of people who didn't know what was happening. Even before the silence hit, she'd been out the door, making her way to the closest main road. Horror churned her stomach, and the AI's message flashed across her sight followed by a few posts on the private network. After making a hasty reply, she'd set to work.

Time is of the essence; and as much as she wants to block out the crying and moaning of the injured, she doesn't. She listens to them, takes it all in. This was an attack, a planned one, and she isn't going to let herself think of it as anything else.

Diana will stay close to the safehouse, occasionally returning to grab a quick bite to eat or change her clothes, eventually grabbing an ID scrambler mask as well. But there's little time to see to her own needs, considering the number of trapped civilians. She focuses her efforts on the closest main road, lifting cars and debris off civilians without a second thought and carrying the injured to the nearest medical set-ups. The Lasso of Hestia stays at her hip, innocuous, but privately giving her the strength to work into the night. Once the street has been cleared of the injured, she'll discreetly patrol the area around the safehouse, making sure no looters take it into their heads to check on the seemingly abandoned warehouses and shopfronts. If she does come across any such criminals, she has no qualms knocking them out and depositing them on the steps of the NAPD.]

ii. that there's more to see [wildcard]

[ooc; i am up for anything with diana! she is in full relief mode, and will work tirelessly to help people escape collapsed buildings, crashed cars, derailed trains, etc. if you'd like a specific rescue scenario, feel free to let me know! i can make closed starters at request. diana's power is inspiration manipulation, which i think would be interesting to work into this event somehow. additionally, here is her ic contact for misfires. as always, please feel free to pm me or ping me on plurk at watchet if you'd like to do something else!]

i.

[revvedup]

[ max is a couple of hours into this shift of search and rescue and is reaching the point where she should probably call it quits for the time being. in spite of the mask, sunscreen, and built in durability, she's starting to feel the effects of the heat and air, her breath coming slower and harder, sunburn streaking her face and sweat coating her skin and making her clothes cling uncomfortably to her body.

she ignores it, keeps pushing through it. she's close enough to the safehouse now to make it back quickly if she needs to, but there are still injured and trapped out here and she's going to help as many as she can.

movement at the corner of her vision catches her attention - it's diana, lifting some debris from a car so the people trapped inside it can get out. one of them, a kid, is hurt and can't crawl out the same way his dad's just done, so max rushes over, crouching down and reaching her arms out for the boy. ]

It's okay, I got you. [ she glances up at diana. ] You got that thing for a while?

wei wuxian ( @xuanyu.mo ).

[laozu]

[ a lot of things happen at once: suddenly, violently and all over the place.

the shuddering sound of a world of electric-hot brilliance and activity drops to dead-silence, shocking him with the silence. the hum of electricity in wires had kept him up for days, a constant shrill buzz like a million tiny insects in the ears of someone used to the silence of night, the yowl of a fox, the lap of water against sodden wooden posts, the creak of branches under soft winds. technological advancement has been a shock and a thrill, and to see it all cease shocks him to the core -- not on his own behalf, he has survived on far less than is offered now, but on behalf of the world that these people know and understand. they don't know differently, and it concerns him. his efforts begin, immediately. ]

( i. ) CHAOS & RUIN.

[ A. he's in the streets, when it happens.

the sound of a car, of two, of three, freefalling into the streets below; grinding metal and shattering glass and screams that are suddenly, sharply transformed into the sound of something wet and heavy. there's flames in an alleyway and shuddering bodies teeming forward, trampling one another as they dive for shelter as previously-airborne vehicles drop from the skies above. it's madness, unorganized and dangerous. in one instance, a car hits the pavement. in another, he sees someone fall to the ground and become engulfed by the throng of bodies urgently pushing past.

it may be another one of the displaced, who he grabs. hands seizing at their arm, reaching up higher to bow a head down, sheltering it against the crook of his neck as he half-drags, half-hauls them out of the line of fire, out of the wide streets and under a rooftop that buckles with the impact of something above. in there, he's able to refocus, to lean over their ( your ) body and peer out into the street, heavy with dust and tumbling debris. ]

Help me, [ he doesn't ask for his fellow displaced to remain behind, where it's more secure.

not when he can see people down in the street, not when he can see those who need to be moved ( they tremble or twitch ) out of the danger zone. ] We need to get them inside.

[ B. in the wake of the immediate technological failings, he knows the next step is disorder. desperation.

in one moment, there is a collection of people - collars or scraps of cloth pulled up around their mouths to disguise their identities - they dive into stores, threatening with bare hands or small kitchen blades or heavy pipes from any number of debris piles. in the next moment, several of them are flying head over heels, the lashing blow of a skilled martial artist flinging them bodily. ass over teakettle, and so on. in the middle of the desperate crowd, violence has blossomed, voices have raised. wei wuxian can be found poised at the forefront of one of the pharmacies, hands held at the ready ( he has the poise of a man well-equipped to fight with his bare hands ) and expression frosty. ]

-- I said, [ he states, ] form an orderly line, and you'll be seen. Please understand tha--

[ he doesn't get the rest of the sentence out, as someone swings for his head with a broken bottle. ironically, the embodiment of disorder is desperate to find some semblance of order right now! ]

[ C. his nose bleeds, by the end of it.

a swatch of red has been smeared across his cheek and the backs of his knuckles, the result of his wiping away the blood as often as he must, while his fingers work frantically over the dark, bamboo-wood flute he plays. around him, a crowd of previously frantic people ( looters, families and their children, injured all alike -- ) are collapsed onto their knees or swaying where they stand, eyes glassy and unfocused. frighteningly, freakishly calm considering the sounds of a city in turmoil far and around them.

in the middle, covered in dust and injured from the struggled of the day, he stands his ground, eyes seeking the next nearest displaced while he plays and plays and plays. a lull, to keep them all calm and secure. in the corner of his eye, a message is going off. even the displaced may hear the message in his wordless tunes: the encouragement to remain calm, to stay close to him, to follow him where it is safe -- but unlike the people of new amsterdam, he has not extended the command to his fellow displaced. his eyes, however, darkly bruised with exhaustion, are begging for a little relief of his own! ]

( ii. ) misfires!

[ several misfires can be received from him, to the tune of:

* a selfie of him, blood at his temple and dust on his face, with a clearly-frightened child cradled in one arm and balanced on his hip, with the accompanying message of: do we have a location we're bringing lost children to for reunification???.

* the casual shout out to the void: HELLO I'M AT [INSERT ADDRESS HERE] WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? ARE YOU HURT?, likely tagged for [Bad username or site: wangji @ lan], [Bad username or site: cheng @ jiang], [Bad username or site: markus @ manfred] or [Bad username or site: abel @ navigator] but somehow finding its way easily into any of the displaced inboxes.

* the most frightening message, which is only a sound clip of his low whistling, eerie and slow and the accompanying text of: play this around crowds or anyone who's acting out and it should calm them. send this to ten (10) other people in the next hour, or you'll be CURSED FOR LIFE 💀💀💀

( iii. ) wildcards.

[ hmu at forzare to discuss anything; he'll be busy between B + C options for a time and be unreachable, as he'll be assisting kylo ren and rey's efforts with the UNA soldier plot but be available at basically all hours of the day or night after that. he has stamina, agility and will be working to increase his m'larky power ( a little too fast and too strongly than is healthy ), so i would love to dedicate real focus to that! *: mwah! ]

b... let's keep this trend of threads up

[cyberlife]

(connor happens by the pharmacy to check on their stock, seeking supplements to stave off heat stroke, pain medication, balms, anything to assist with the injuries he's been struggling with in and out of buildings. shopping centres were trashed within the hours, water gone from now-warm fridges. he should've expected to see what he does: chaos.

and a man grabbing for a bottle to swing at—

clearing the broken glass door with a hunch of shoulders to avoid the frames, the helmeted android looks very much the part and sprints at the civilian. the new opponent is distracting enough. it swings heads in his direction as he uses shards and detritus at their feet to slide in with an awful scrape on tilted floor to slam a low kick into the nearest ankle. it upends him before his arm's followthrough.)

Are you alright? (a familiar voice distorted by a black visor that scrambles the identity of his neural implant, distressing the men gathered by their downed friend.

but they won't clear out with that alone. desperation is at its peak, violence is the only way to get them what they need and they'll burn through the two displaced if they can. their postures tell him so, cornered, vicious animals. humans always were slaves to their emotions; connor has his shut off with a blue glow from the centre of his chest that betrays his status and the fact that he's abusing an ability — as he's often wont to do.)

We need to disable them, these supplies are crucial. If you can't fight, Mo Xuanyu, stay behind the counter. If you can, I could use your assistance.

sora | kingdom hearts | ota

[lighthearted]

i. chaos and ruin

[ The good part is that Sora has listened to the suggestions made by others and made sure to partner up with someone before heading out into the city to offer his aid. He's got a backpack full of supplies that's weighing him down a little, but it doesn't seem to slow his pace much at all. That's the benefit of still being young and energetic, along with very much in shape, even if he doesn't have all of his powers.

Along with whoever joins him, he'll be doing his best to help as many people as he can, whether that means pulling them out of cars, climbing onto the train tracks or into buses to evacuate them, or escorting people to hospitals.

Early on, when Sora has successfully pulled someone out a car wreck and escorted them off to the sidewalk to catch their breath, he'll reach out to grab their hand and offer support, only for his chest to glow as his power activates. He likely won't even realize it's happening at first.

From that point on, any time that he comes across someone in any kind of distress, whether it's a local or a Displaced, he'll reach out to make physical contact and use his newfound ability to calm them down.

There will be times when the heat and the amount of activity means that he has to stop and take a breather, sitting down on a bench or on the curb to gulp down a canteen of water. ]

ii. beyond the wall (closed to lan wangji)

[ While Sora's spent almost all of his waking hours helping as many people as he can, he knows that there's something else he should look into too. With the city in such a hectic state, there's an opportunity for them to finally go past the walls. It's a place he's only visited in dreams, and he wants to know what the real thing is like. It's not only due to curiosity, but also because there might be something more out there.

He doesn't know if this world has a Keyhole, but it should. Even if finding it wouldn't mean anything now when he has no powers, they might figure out a way to get them back someday. The point is, he has to see it for himself.

Going alone is his mistake, but he doesn't want to get caught by the soldiers patrolling and it's going to be easier to sneak around while he's by himself. He's able to dart through the gates when one of the patrols gets far enough away, and then he's met by the humidity of the forest.

Again, this is a place he'd been in a dream, where it had been night and the mushrooms had glowed to light his and Caroline's way. It's different in reality, especially with the sun beating down on him like it has for the past couple of days. Sora stubbornly pushes on through the woods, but before he realizes how far gone he is, he starts breathing harder and his head starts spinning.

He's used to warm, muggy weather due to growing up on an island, but this is a lot even for him and he's been pushing himself hard since this all started.

One moment, he's ducking under the branches of a tree. The next, down feels like up and up feels like down and he finds himself leaning against the same tree's trunk, breathing ragged as sweat clings to his forehead and sticks to his clothes.

He'll be fine, he just needs some water...

He feels like he's moving in slow motion as he grabs for the canteen at his waist, only to find that it's empty. ]

Ungh...

iii. safehouse

[ Despite the close call, with Lan Wangji's help Sora's been brought back to the safehouse at the hoverbike shop and given all of the water and rest that he needs. He's been left to sit on one of the cots, a wet cloth in hand which he wipes over his cheeks and forehead periodically.

Relieved as he is that someone had been there to find him out in the woods, he's also mad at himself for letting this happen in the first place. It's yet another example of him not being able to handle things when he's alone. If he'd had his normal powers, if Donald and Goofy had been there, if he'd brought Riku along (but he'd been busy with something else at the time)...

When it comes down to it, it had been an impulsive, dumb move and he should have known better. So for once, Sora actually looks a little more downtrodden than usual, not immediately striking up conversation with whoever happens to walk past. ]

iv. wildcard

[ If you have anything else in mind for threading, hit me up at demonology! ]

safehouse

[inherited]

[Busy with something else and—frankly—not able to find him. That just made the day worse. Sure, they may have started out on similar routes, but eventually they had to split up. Riku's still got a knack for mostly doing this stuff alone. He's more experienced at fighting alongside Mickey than Sora, which says a lot. There's no Mickey walking around here. And boy, he'd be a sight for sore eyes. If there's anyone who could help them now ...

When he drops down next to Sora, he has a cut on his right eyebrow. He looks over at him, gaze curious. Looks like they're both having a bad day.]

I couldn't find you out there.

[Anywhere. The city is so big. Is this how Sora felt looking for him? Probably. It's definitely how he felt knowing that Sora was locked away, losing bits of himself to a replica. His jaw sets at the reminder.

Riku looks grim. Not determined or dismayed or downtrodden. Just grim. It's a perfect portrayal of how he feels at the moment.]

I'm sorry.

Daenerys Targaryen (open and closed)

[dragonwarder]

CHAOS [open to multiple]

[The sound of electricity dying is a new sound to Daenerys, but it prickles at her senses in a way that tells her to take shelter. A good thing too -- not a moment after, a car slams down into the pavement in front of her, causing her heart to leap into her chest. She has to shield her eyes to protect them from flying glass, leaving her to cling to the building she'd just come out of for dear life.

A few more horrible crashing sounds later, and her adrenaline is maxed out, making her feel vaguely sick to her stomach. And when the rising cacophony of voices crying out for help begins to rise, Daenerys feels herself struggling to free herself and others from the maze of crashed vehicles.

The first Displaced that enters her field of vision finds her crying out toward them.]

You there! Assist me with this!

[She is not nearly strong enough to pry open the crushed metal door to get the woman inside out to safety. And she will be stopping by several more areas to try and get people out and toward some kind of medical attention.]

...AND RUIN [closed to peggy]

That's the last one.

[Daenerys sets aside an empty container after giving out the last water bottle inside of it, looking just slightly dismayed. The temperature has, by now, risen to levels that have chased many people out of the sunlight, but there are still plenty who cannot get inside because of blocked entrances. The sounds of coughing are high in the air, and Daenerys' own pale skin had begun to redden (and then darken slightly) from overexposure.

She cannot tell, of course -- heat was always a friendly element to her. No, what is getting her is the thin air. It tires her out faster, and makes it hard to think. Being out of her element, she cannot help but feel slightly directionless, even with Peggy beside her to coordinate the relief efforts.]

What else can we do for them?

[ooc: If you want a specific prompt not listed here, pp me at stabs or at this journal. I am also open to misfires here or in her inbox.]

chaos

[warfares]

( picking his way across the wreckage, kylo ren manages to make his way over to daenerys' side with little difficulty, seemingly impervious to the heat and increasingly dry blasts of air. )

Here, ( he's already peeling off his thick gloves, getting ready to dig his fingers into the side of the door and pull. )

On three?

rey (ota)

[forcevisions]

[ petty theft ]

[ Once the UNA soldier is safely delivered for interrogation, Rey's primary focus shifts to the matter of the pyramid. They'd moved quickly on the soldier, but the chaos is in full swing by the time she's looking for transport to the pyramid. Looters. Callous arson.

She does her part in some of the less pristine parts of the city to stop people from damaging their own neighborhoods. The strength that she has, she uses to pull people out of shop windows. But by the time she has reached the wealthier districts, her target for transportation, she has given up.

Let them loot the rich. There are worse things. After all, she's here to do the same.

Rey keeps quiet, skulking around in neighborhoods and trying to pick out which garage looks like it has the laxest security presently and is still likely to have flying cars and not just hoverbikes. ]

[ powers testing ]

[ At Jon's encouragement, Rey is devoting some of her energies however briefly to practicing her power —or more accurately, testing its limits— she has made her way into the window of an apartment pretty far up and is trying to pull a bike towards her from the ground.

It's easier this way, she reasons. Pulling instead of pushing. More familiar. Really, it's all the same. But she's already tired from having exhausted herself with the UNA fight, so she's not even operating at fully capacity. The bike floats up off the ground, her chest glowing high in the window, and she even manages to get it up a handful of stories from this distance. The gravity is working.

Just weakly. Too weakly to pull it very far before she is forced to drop it back to Earth. ]

birthday lunch

[warfares]

( fresh! is a restaurant that promises delicious seafood served in a casual and unpretentious environment, just on the waterfront. there, diners can expect a range of mezze-style light meals, mouth-watering flatbreads and list of designer cocktails that is rotated every three months.

an ideal place for a late birthday lunch.

he’s halfway through his third spider roll when the music cuts out. the overhead lights flickering and then dying. his attention shifts from his meal to the ceiling and then the surrounding diners, unsure of what he expects to find but everyone shares a look of surprise and confusion.

rather than stick around and figure out what's happening, he pushes back his seat and climbs to his feet, reaching for his jacket and pulling it on. )

We need to go.

kylo ren - ota.

[warfares]

BOOTS ON THE GROUND

( casual heroism has never really been his thing – granted, the same could be said of heroism in general, the shift from budding dictator to resistance fighter running far more seamlessly than kylo ren had ever expected.

so, feel free to run into him at any point over the next few days, pulling people out of the wreckage of their hovercars, seemingly unaffected by the blistering heat; stopping any would-be looters, sometimes quickly and sometimes not.

and, of course, hot-wiring a hoverbike with an impressive amount of skill. )


AS I LAY MY HEAD DOWN TO SLEEP

( unable to get into his apartment, kylo ren is forced to take shelter in the safehouse for the first time in months.

and it’s cozy, really. what he sacrifices in privacy he more than makes up for in the ability to take long, indulgent showers. which he desperately needs after the events of the past few days. everything aches.

eventually, he'll take up his usual place in the kitchen, a mug of mushroom tea cooling at his elbow. and while he doesn't seem especially interested in drinking it, occasionally he will curl his fingers against the ceramic and steam will begin to rise from the surface. )


MISFIRES

1. sunday morning discovery: something purple, smelly, and sticky my hair. any suggestions?
2. can’t feel body but making pizza rolls.
3. on a scale of zero to "unmitigated disaster," how drunk is he?
4. i can't breathe out the right side of my face.
5. we are no longer allowed to make spur of the moment decisions about our love life.

max guevara | dark angel | ota

[revvedup]

001: SEARCH, RESCUE, & STEAL

[ max came out here to do two things: rescue people and steal hoverbikes. the people are obviously the priority, and she sticks mainly to the streets, looking out for people trapped inside vehicles, since they're in the most danger of dehydration and heat stroke. she can't rely on her typical skill set for this when it comes to getting them out, so she has to be careful about breaking the windows and prying open the doors so that the trapped citizens don't get hurt.

when she starts to reach her limit, either because it's towards the end of the time they were advised was safe to stay outside or they've run out of water and sunscreen to administer, she gestures to a nearby store, it's doors wide open and the display window already smashed in. ]

Go see what you can find in there. [ she doesn't detail a list of what they need, assuming that her partner knows what to look for: water, sunscreen, ice, and first aid supplies, whatever they can carry with them to bring back and dispense out later. ] I'm gonna get this running.

002: HOTWIRING 101

[ when she's not out looking for people, she's at the garage, taking over for fitz on the hotwiring lessons as she'd promised. there's some evidence of her time spent outside in the form of sunburn on her forehead and the tops of her ears and some cuts on her hands and clothing, but she appears mostly unscathed, although that may change depending on what time you catch her lessons.

she's stripped of the protective layers she'd worn outside in here, jacket tied around her waist and hair tied back as she displays how to get the engine started sans key. ]

Okay, this part is very important - when it comes to the wires, do not twist them together. Just touch the ends together and it should get it started.

[ it does as she demonstrates, and she quickly binds the wires with electrical tape, stepping back to let whoever she's teaching take a look. ]

If it doesn't start up, leave it and move on to another, or help with getting people out and to shelter. Getting people to safety is more important than getting these back.

003: WILDCARD

[ i'm open to whatever, hit me up at kisas#3220, my plurk, or feel free to DM me if there's something you want to discuss! max's inbox is also open for misfires. ]

prompto argentum | ffxv

[mercurio]

01A. TRAIN COLLISION (CLOSED TO CASSIAN) TW: violent crash, blood, dead bodies

[to say that no one expected this to happen is an understatement. it was easy enough to go through one's routine every day business, expecting nothing different (and why should anyone have?). 1:47PM finds prompto inside one of the city's many short-distance city trains, making his way from one point to another, holding onto one of the poles and moving along with the movement of the turns and slow stops; there's the chatter of people conversing, of music in one of the cars at the back, of the train's chime for a stop or the generic announcing the next stop.]

[there is no reason why anyone should have expected the abrupt swerving of the train, how it gives and suddenly gravity is pushing all the passengers towards the roof of the cars, the train going down fast—the thunderous, booming crash of a hover car into the front of the train what jerks it to turn onto its side, crashing down hard into the pavement of the streets of new amsterdam.]

[screams and darkness greet him when prompto pulls back onto himself, blinking heavily, disoriented. there's a deafening silence about it all, a warmth on his chest, glass that's about to crack at his back.]

Ugh...

[it takes no time for him to realize what's going on. the front of the train is on fire, there are people stumbling to their feet, panicking at seeing those around him either burning or shoved into positions no human body should be able to contort. others are a little more lucky, broken bones or concussions keeping them down. a few, like prompto, have gone mostly unscathed; his shirt is soaked in blood, a cut on his forehead the likeliest culprit, but the bruises and scratches mostly minor.]

[he kicks up to his feet, feels the rumble of the city crashing outside—only able to catch few snippets of it all from the windows above him. prompto does what he can think of and grabs onto one of the poles in the middle—one that hasn't entirely been pulled off its position with the crash—and pulls himself up onto more stable footing, on the side of the seats.]

[this is bad. they need to exit this train—it's a death trap by itself, and they're basically at the mercy of whatever else comes crashing down.]

Hey! [he calls, coughs, the smoke getting darker. he grabs at a nearby woman's arm who is reaching out to him, helping her up to her feet. to anyone who is up on their feet, able to hear him:] We gotta get outta this train!

01B. OUT OF THE FRYING PAN (OTA)

[the last car in the train managed to keep upright, and that's where prompto's betting on getting a shot at escaping. all the doors so far have been closed, malfunctioning due to the crash, so this is pretty much what he's banking on for himself and the other remaining survivors to get out.]

[with power coming back online, the emergency button works, at least, but the doors are jammed. they try to push open but get stuck. they need someone from the outside to pull them.]

Hey! Hey!

[he's banging on the glass of the door, palm open. it's a fucking shitshow outside, but he sees people—others, like him, the displaced—moving about. anyone would be helpful, even any old trainee of the NAPD.]

[through the small gap between the doors, he calls out, sticking his arm out.]

We're trapped here!

02. AND INTO THE FIRE (OTA)

[making it to the safehouse will be no easy feat for prompto. having managed out of the train wreck and avoided any uncertain death, the adrenaline has somewhat diluted itself from his system, the pain of previously ignored injuries and bumps he may have gotten during the crash are now coming back to him in waves. using his power was a bad move, too, exhaustion wearing at his bones like someone who hasn't slept in days.]

[he's looking worse for wear—coughing and skin reddened, blood on his clothes—and finding a spot under a fallen awning to catch his breath.]

[although he knows that he has to keep moving, it's so difficult right now, as he leans heavily against the wall of this particular building, trying to keep himself awake.]

01b.

[kleptocratic]

[ Eugenides isn't outside— he's in the train, with Prompto. He must have been in one of the other cars, and made his way to this one. His short hair clinging to his forehead, dampend with sweat and exertion. He hisses at Prompto. ]

Stop making such a racket.

[ And then Eugenides peers through the part of the door that has a nearly unobsctructed view into the crowd outside. It's obvious that he's waiting for something. ]

caroline forbes, open.

[gasping]

i. › day or night

[ in the heat of the day, rescue operations are the primary objective. getting people into shade and shelter, pulling them out of harm's way, making sure no one makes themselves ill via sun poisoning or dehydration by bringing regular supplies of sunblock, water, and shade to those who need it most — for the hours of daylight that they have, caroline is busy, constantly on the move to try and do what she can for this city.

to those that come into view, or for those that need a little direction, she's all too happy to load them up with supplies or direct them where they need to go. she might sound a little snappy, but hey, it's a crisis situation. some people are nice, and some people are good delegators; caroline is the latter.

at night, though, rescue operations come to a temporary halt. it's too dark to see much, so most of the city retreats to wherever they can, whether it's their own homes or established shelters or someone else's couch in a pinch. there's not much in the way of nightlife right now, so there's no reason for your average citizen to go wandering.

which might pose the question as to what, exactly, caroline forbes is doing out on the street. whether it's pacing the sidewalks just outside a medical center, in an alleyway around the corner from a liquor store, or a purposeful block or so behind a pair of looters in a residential district, caroline hugs the shadows, looking all too comfortable in them for this to be her first time exploring the city at night.

feel free to interrupt, but whatever you do, don't wake the neighbors. ]

ii. › that wasn't meant for you

[ she's a regular chatty cathy, so texts have been flying to and from her implant since the day she realized how to use it. some texts from the last few days stubbornly "refused" to send ... she's starting to realize now that they did send. just not to the person she thought they went to. whoops? ]

a. i'm concerned you might be passed out on a random rooftop right now, but not concerned enough to do anything about it.
b. i'm starving but he's not my type.
c. okay, maybe a little bit of me felt bad about it. but the rest of me is fine with it!

iii. › wildcard

[ throw something at me! feel free to hit me up via pm or plurk if you have questions. ♥ ]

i

[followhim]

[ poe, the owner of at least two successfully hot-wired vehicles, was doing a nighttime supply run. cars still have headlights and people don't suddenly stop needing water after 8 p.m. also, he's restless and likes to put all that restless energy to work in a way that makes him useful, if nothing else.

he hasn't driven this particular make of thing that goes vroom vroom very long, but he already has to fight off the instinct to lay on the horn whenever he sees her. she shouldn't be out here just hanging out? especially at night. it's giving him a Concern. (even if the last time he saw her was under some wild circumstances. but, hey. dreams, right? ]

Hey!

[ it's a quiet hiss from the rolled down window of his sweet ride. can't get the attention of the looters; he worked hard for his own loot thanks. ]

Caroline? What're you doing out here?

cassian andor | ota + closed

[evasives]

( a ) dropping some help

[ if there's one way to show a world how dependent they are on technology, stopping everything for a brief three minute window would do it. he's seen a lot of destroyed cities - he watched jedha blow up, he knows scarif no longer exists, but this is very different. he's out on a train when the disaster strikes, and cassian immediately moves into action mode and stays that way, even when he and prompto get out. ]

[ the vehicles are awful, some of them so wrecked he doesn't even bother looking inside, he doesn't need to see a body. he finds a car with a woman inside still alive if not badly wounded, the window glass smashed open entirely. she can be pulled out, but it might cause more damage if done alone. cassian flags down anyone he might see scurrying nearby with that same adrenaline. ] There is someone in here!

( b ) dropping some rocks

[ by nature, cassian is a secretive person. he hates anyone anywhere knowing things about him - but the situation is different right now. there are plenty of things he could do without making use of his power, but he doesn't have to here. he can be subtle about it, or at least try to be when it comes to floating rocks. maybe this intense heat will just make people think it's a hallucination, or a trick of the eye for fallen debris. ]

[ it makes moving the debris easier, even if he's limited by size. the bigger pieces he can't budge, but rubble is much easier to move when you don't have to touch it. it's tiring, but everything about this is tiring, and cassian is used to pushing his body to the limits. if you're struggling to move some debris out of the way, or maybe if there's a lot of it, he'll come over. ] Let me help, please.

[ he spots someone trying to climb into a broken window, and with a slight of his hand, he slams a rock into the man's leg. when the guy looks back at cassian angrily, cassian opens up his arms, maybe welcome a potential brawl. ] Do not steal from someone who already has so little.

[ steal from the rich, obviously. ]

( c ) CLOSED; dropping some eaves

[ he's been spending a lot of time away from home, working with his boss auden on home repairs and fixtures. outside of their usual customer base, she directs her employees to find homes that look like they need assistance, that it doesn't matter if the owners can't pay, she'll handle it. cassian's a quick learner, and he already had a sense of technological repair, so it's easy to do as she says and work through the heat, morningstar mask working as a sunblock to make his life easier. her business is booming, drawing attention from all over and cassian takes advantage of it. ]

[ velde & sons gets many an invite, people are desperate. by only the second day, cassian accepts four of them and tags along on a fifth to city hall. pulsar, vyonation, and giles bell ask for any extra assistance in security and electrical concerns. he gathers his housemates, and they create several bugs. ]

[ he meets daisy at vyonation and she serves as a guide, taking him to the busted wiring on the fifth floor - a hovercar crashed into the wall on the other side, and although it's been removed, the power has yet to be restored to this floor and the one above it. no one even gives him a second glance, least of all because he's with an employee. the wiring isn't even that difficult to check on, but he takes his time fixing it while daisy occasionally chats with coworkers who walk by. ]

[ when he goes to pulsar, jyn greets him and leads him in the same way, taking him up a few flights of stairs and explaining how the elevator is still out, hopefully he can do something about that! she takes him to the control box and he gets to work. at the same time, he figures out which wires apply to which floors, building a map in his head and locating the conference room. ]

[ for illya, however, cassian borrows a shirt from velde & sons, and when he walks into giles bell with illya carrying a tool box behind him, no one so much as glances at them. the receptionist gives them directions to the secondary circuit breaker, and they pass through without issue. when he asks someone if there is a map so he can find his way to the backup generators, they pull it up and briefly explain how to get there, but cassian memorizes the way up, the real end goal being the conference room. ]

[ the lucky fourth location on the third day is for an apartment complex whose lights won't stop flickering. when he sees the name as GILL-JADE he knows immediately he needs to take it, which is how cassian finds himself inside the home of new amsterdam's governor and her family. the final call is for city hall, which he attends with one of his coworkers, a woman named amala. they go their separate ways after fixing up a busted lock, she attending to a broken entryway to a stairwell, and cassian looking into getting the air conditioner system up and running up near the governor's office. by the time he leaves every location, he has planted at least one bug (one in the governor's office; one in each of the three corporations' conference rooms, but a second in katelin jovavich's office; the final bug in gill-jade's apartment itself) and tampered with security to allow himself access to get back in. he's helping in the chaos as much as he can take advantage of it. ]

( d ) dropping some WILDCARDS

[ hit me up for misfires in cassian's inbox or chat with me, romanitas#5368 @ discord! ]

[evite]

[ day one is boots on the ground. by the time she and illya trudge back to their apartment, daisy is so tired she can barely think straight. too bad, so sad, though — because when the opportunity for legitimate espionage is put on the table, there's no way she can just roll over and ignore it.

granted, she's not very much help in the whole physically creating bugs business, but she's there. she's mostly there for moral support, eyes half-closed as she curls up on the couch next to illya's tall frame, but she's there. cassian and illya do most of the work on the actual bugs, which is probably for the best. daisy's eyes and hands need their beauty rest if she's to be any use at work the next day.

which is, as it turns out, where daisy winds up being especially helpful. it's her department that has the floors needing repairs, and when daisy offers to escort the maintenance man around, her boss is all too happy to let her take care of this secretarial duty. (whatever, asshole. she's going to plant a bug in his office too, just watch.) it works out well: cassian gets access and a guided tour, daisy gets a break, and ... well, the power getting fixed is probably good, too.

in the middle of a conference room, cassian's legitimate gear sprawled out over the table, daisy cops a lazy sprawl on an unreasonably plush faux-leather rolling chair. ]

Did Jyn tell you I found out he lives in our building? We should set him up with Dennys, he's apparently single now.

[ sad. couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. ]

You should ask Stan, apparently he's into some sketchy shit.

John Sheppard | Stargate: Atlantis | OTA

[impavid]

> CHAOS & RUIN_

Well that was... dramatic. The darkness and silence is eerie, and sends John's mind back to places he'd really rather not have gone.

What he wouldn't give for a radio and a team to handle this right now.

Still, even if he's new and not really equipped for this that isn't enough to stop John trying. He grabs everything he can in the hideout and heads up and out with anyone who'll come --

(John is too new to have his own place, and too new to know a lot of people by name, but that doesn't matter. A disaster of this scale doesn't need friendship, it needs people working)

-- but stepping out into the street gives him a moment of pause.

There's... something more. Something else wrong.

He'll work out that later.

Instead, John moves to help extract people from the crashed and mangled piles of cars and bikes. It's been a long time since he's been on the other end of this -- since he's been directing a rescue effort rather than fighting his way through with one or waiting to be rescued. John remembers how, though.

"Wait, wait," he's saying, and John is stepping up to stop someone moving something. "Make sure it's stable first -- you might need something to counterweight the whole situation or... prop it up so it can't collapse back down. Are any of that car's systems still running?"

He backs up a step then crouches down, doing a quick visual scan of the pile of crashed vehicles for flammable liquid leaking or anything that might immanently be about to buckle.

> WILDCARD & MISFIRES_

[ Hit me up here for general planning, or his inbox at J.SHEPPARD if you want a nerd fight with him!

I'll switch to brackets for anyone that prefers it. ]

chaos & ruin;

[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto might not be trained for this, but this isn't exactly the first time he's survived this sort of a scenario. For better or for worse.

At least this is just your regular everyday mass casualty incident, and there doesn't seem to be any active threat involved, other than the technology that caused it. He's still waiting for robot voices to start speaking up and claiming responsibility. Echoes of his own past reverberating in his head as he reaches to clear another piece of shrapnel --

And finds himself chided for it.

He jumps a little at the sound of the other man's voice, though it does the job of stopping him in his tracks. He glances up at him, raising an eyebrow as he recognizes him from their conversation on the first day -- that comment about cannibals had been a mistake, in retrospect, his bad.

"I can't hear anything," he answers, though that doesn't answer the question. Having no experience with these hovercars yet himself, not being able to hear it running could mean just about anything, truth be told.

poe dameron | star wars | ota

[followhim]

relief efforts

[ poe is embracing the "eat the rich" spirit in this post-emp economy. after hot-wiring a hover bike superior to the one he uses as a courier, he realizes that there are WHOLE FUCKIN HOVERCARS out there in the world just waiting for him to steal. he's a pilot; he can grand theft auto anything. being in an actual car with a/c makes the heat a little less unbearable — some of us are having stranded in the jakku desert flashbacks over here. at least this time he has a hat (think baseball cap) and sunglasses. and, again: that beautiful ac.

he's keeping his car and/or bike close to the ground at the moment, mostly making supply runs for canteens, sunscreen, anything you could think of. if you need a ride to the hospital, safe house, or anywhere else, he's more than happy to offer that, too. (ignore some dubious cooking supplies and small appliances in the backseat, they were all already there. ]

Hey! You okay?


cleanup (powers)

[ after being reminded that he actually in fact has a power between conversations with both fitz and kylo ren, he decides to try and … make it manifest outside of his dreams. it turns out to be a lot more difficult in real life — most of those manifestations were fueled by adrenaline, and also this seems to be a lot less satisfying in payoff.

BUT IT'S FINE. it's more than he could do before, which was zero things. in this sweaty oppressive heat, he has decided now is the perfect time to pick up smaller pieces of debris, charge them with energy (? mystery energy, he's not a scientist) and throw them into preexisting debris to cause small explosions. it's like when you use tape to get rid of the tape gunk when you peel off a sticker.

BE CAREFUL that you're not in the line of fire?? ? ? ]

wildcard

[anything else! he will be guest starring in the una and pyramid logs coming to a theater near you, and i'm also open to misfires. ]

a mishmash of the three (cw: death/blood)

[revvedup]

[ the time max spends outside has been split between rescuing whoever she can, hotwiring whatever abandoned vehicles she finds, and finding sunscreen and water to bring back to the safehouse to replenish their supplies. currently, she's attempting to hotwire a car that's crashed onto the sidewalk, but appears to have minimal damage to it, or at least minimal damage compared to the others littering the streets. the back of the car is smashed, there's broken glass on the seat of the vehicle and what looks like blood staining the dashboard, but those are fixable. she hopes.

minimal damage to a vehicle doesn't mean minimal damage to a person, and this gets confirmed for after she gets into the driver's seat once she's got the engine running. placing her degloved hand on the steering wheel sends a flood of memories into her mind, not hers, but seen and heard and felt as vividly as if she'd experienced them herself.

she screams, barely able to hear it over the crash of metal, glass, and concrete echoing in her ears. ]

@s76

[gravemistake]

[The revelation that the UNA literally programs its soldiers has Gabriel entertaining a whole host of possibilities, and he’s more than willing to take advantage of the chaos in order to dig deeper into that particular avenue. He doesn’t move right away, playing at relief efforts while scoping out a few Giles Bell-adjacent facilities and planning his next course of action. He knows what he has to do--it's just a matter of doing it, and hoping that he stays one step ahead of the UNA.

He's not looking to go too big--this is his first outing, after all, so he needs to start small. Depending on what he finds, he can move on from there.

When he’s finally ready to get a move on, he sends Jack a message and waits for him at the location. He's got one of Morningstar's masks, but otherwise he seems to be planning to do this with minimal equipment and his own covert ops ability.]

Took you long enough.

[personalwar]

[ Jack's also got one of the scrambling masks, along with a stun gun, both lent to him by Morningstar -- or at least, by the Displaced who've attached themselves to that cause. Similar to Gabriel, he's not sure why so many of the Displaced have decided to throw their efforts in with the homegrown rebel group, but he also realizes that not many people are as paranoid as the two of them.

Either way, it seems they get to benefit. These items will have to be turned back in once all is said and done. Can't get access to all the perks without signing his name in blood, it seems.

The meeting spot is in front a cafe that's just down the block from the business they're going to ambush, though it's not in operation. Most of the shops and restaurants are closed down given the chaos gripping the city, to say nothing of the suffocating heat.

Gabriel's greeting earns a shrug from Jack -- and somewhere under that mask, he's huffing. ]

You may not have noticed, but the trains aren't running right now.

[ He had to hoof it all the way here. ]