meadowlarklogs | EVENT LOG 005

EVENT LOG 005

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Clarke's arrival is punctual. She gets there ten minutes early, taking the opportunity to take a walk through the garden before she takes the finding path toward the spot where Ball asked them to meet. A white mask hangs around her neck, meant to keep out toxins, but she otherwise doesn't look worse for wear given the high temperatures and burning sun. On the contrary, it's almost as if she's untouched by it. Either she's not been outside, or—she's immune.

(Hint: it's the latter.)

She carries a bag, not out of convenience or for any real reason, but because it's the only way to carry her gun. She told Markus there would be a gun on hand. She wasn't lying. Anyone who knows her can guess what she's carrying, but it's not like there seems to be any guards on hand. Good.

Now, she's sitting there, eyeing the food in front of her. Clarke has heard stories growing up about how it was to get the news about the Earth literally burning from a series of bombs. She has a sense that it didn't look different from how it looks outside of this garden.]

We do. For the record, you're surprisingly calm given the number of people dead out there. [Clarke is calm, too. That doesn't matter. It's with the tense air that she always carries.]

Do you have anything to do with that particular "this"?

[ Loki is the last to arrive, though he brushes it off with one reason or another. not far, Jason's idling the bike while the world erupts in chaos. in here it's like the eye of a storm, a small sanctuary away from the destruction outside. he makes a note not to forget it. there's a mask that's been removed and tucked in the pocket of his blazer. for everything going on around them, he looks good. ]

I'm certain we'll get there. At least this Ball fellow is trying to be accommodating.

[ there's an easy tone to his voice as his brows lift toward their host. ]

Though as you can see, we do have quite a lot to concern ourselves with. A cup of coffee now, and most likely for the road. Would it be rude to ask for the chase to be cut?

What, this? [ He flicks a hand, motioning the outside world. Ball treats it almost like this inside world is its own haven, separated from it all. It's not. He's just as hot and sweltering as everyone else.] No, no, no. I take it you met some of the more – [ He puckers his lips, thinking. ] – exacting of the bunch. That is, when it comes to the natural world. I'm more fluid.

[ An easy smile. ]

It is a tragedy, though, and this is no chase. I brought you here to discuss. You all are feeling very limited. By knowledge. By experience. Or lack thereof. I'd like to help you change that.

[ He's thoughtful. ]

Oh, and by power. Movement. Freedom. This world is designed to be universally controlled and ruled but when something like this happens, you have to wonder. But first. [ He raises a finger, indicating "first." ] I'll do you the honor of allowing you questions. Bear in mind that this is a round table, so keep any long diatribes to yourselves, please and thank you. That, my friends, counts as a chase.

[A thin sheen of a sweat shines on Markus’ brow, the heat always unkind to a human body. But his focus is so centered on Ball and what he has to say — a round table, an open forum for their questions — that his discomfort takes a backseat to all of that.]

No diatribes. [He doesn’t believe he can speak for the rest, but a quick glance around the table does suggest that Markus thinks it might be a good idea to be straightforward, especially if it means pulling out threads of info from this man.

He sets his jaw, considering, looking back at their host.]

I’d like to know why. What’s in it for you, by helping us feel less... “limited”?

I want to know what you think we have to do with your gods.

[Sniper has been sitting on that question, rarely-felt anxiety squeezing their chest.]

I assume that what's in it for them is helping us. If we have anything to do with gods. You revere us in some way, so why is that? And why didn't you step forward sooner? What kept you from doing it before?

[She's calm after Ball's bit. Her bag isn't as immediately necessary. After all, Rey had wanted to make sure she didn't compromise their access to answers. Clarke won't do that.]

[ Loki watches both Clarke and Sniper out of the corner of his eye, listening to Markus talk off somewhere to the left. bright eyes draw back to Ball, though he seems laid back and confident about the encounter. ]

Not just what we have to do with your gods—but what you know of the gods of this world.

[ a pause. ]

Oh, and what kind of coffee? I'd like some cream, too.

What do you know about gods of this world? Apparently not very much! [ The suggestion that he needs to say more is odd. Ball's eyes glaze over as the coffee arrives, complete with a non-dairy creamer. Oat milk, specifically. He doesn't make any moves to pass it out. They can do that themselves now. ]

The food should be along shortly. I know you said you don't have much of an appetite, but this heat is due to get to you. [ He makes a thoughtful sound, leaning forward to get himself some coffee. He takes it black. ]

As it is, I believe a better question is what you have to do with gods. Do you have any guesses? I suppose not. I thought the art was fairly straightforward in how we perceived you, but I was rather cagey with the details. As far as I'm concerned, you are gods. [ A look at Loki. Eyebrows pinch. ] Bits of them, at least. A singular god, spread all around. But that god belongs here, and so – here you are! We'd been seeking out that particular ... iteration for some time. All signs pointed to some deep depths, but here you are. Right before me.

[ He smiles after a long sip of coffee. ]

Do you still want to know about the coffee, Loki? Or have I suitably distracted you?

[Never mind Loki’s coffee. Markus is the one thoroughly distracted now, his focus gone askew and seen in the way he straightens, laced fingers wound tight against each other.

Portions of a singular god, divvied out? He shakes his head, brow slanted.]

That’s not possible. Most of us aren’t divine. Some of us were normal, once before.

[It really is him, it really is rA9. He’ll save us all, he’ll make us free. Markus can hear the adulation in his head, all echoes of home, and his retort reflects his denial of it.

Someone else will have to add something more helpful for now, sorry friends.]

[There's no denial with Sniper: just a rush of cold certainty that crystallizes into a sharp, painful knot in their chest.

that god belongs here, and so – here you are!

Only a lifetime of practicing perfect control keeps Sniper in their seat. The horror of knowing there was something divine inside them, changing them—what kind of joke was this, for a god-killer?]

How do we get it out? How do we make it send us home? Why us?

Guys, we're not asking the right questions. [Or making the right statements. Clarke wishes she was closer to Markus, so she could grab his hand and reassure him. Something tells her that glowing for this guy isn't the right idea.]

How certain are you about what you're telling us? Is it a hunch or a piece of knowledge that you can completely confirm? [A beat.] I've seen people treat humans as if they're something more because they don't understand the human in question. They don't understand what made what they're seeing. So I'm asking—I guess—for proof.

[ eyes to Clarke again, but there's something that's bothering him. how does anyone measure the proof of divinity? if she's asking how certain they are, there wouldn't have been seeking. there wouldn't be talking of fracturing. the whole thing makes him thoughtful, less antsy than anyone would think. it would make Thor antsy, but he's not Thor. ]

How were you seeking? [ which may be a more pointed question in what he's looking for. ] And what iteration?

...

[ there's a pause. ]

Ah, wait—by depths do you mean beneath the ocean?

[ don't worry, he'll ask for coffee again soon. ]

The second of seven. The one most likely to hit the Marianas Trench to take a long nap. [ That's the easier question, so he gets to it first. The second of seven gods. The god who created the water and the sky; unique in its own way to the rest of the world. ]

As for the rest – wow, you don't like this, do you? You're special now. It doesn't matter who you were before. [ Notably, Ball doesn't say "what." In Markus' regard, he doesn't know what's happened to him. ] It only matters who you are now. I don't know why you'd want to change that. You're god-touched. Special. Divine! Except for Loki here, who claims to have already been that. Well, you weren't very powerful before if that's true, were you?

[ Otherwise – otherwise a lot of things! A lot of them! ]

Not to be rude. Sorry, I slipped up there, didn't I? [ He smiles. ]

There is a way to prove all this. I don't expect you to take my word for it. Unfortunately, said proof will be hard to obtain during these circumstances. But there are gates. Bridges, if you will. A means of connecting you to different spots in the world. Some are underwater, but others still remain. Giving you swift and easy access. The locations of these gates involve exact coordinates. They're difficult to discern without the touch of a god leading you, and you're all set there. [ A huff. ] Too bad, though – I can't give the coordinates right now because of how things are. [ For the first time, he seems peeved by what's going on outside. Put out. He had a gift planned, after all! They could have gotten started on it. The coordinates are unreachable right now. What a problem. ]

I assure you that you'll get a package with the coordinates to get started once this, ah, business improves. I'd offer my apologies for not offering a cure all for your problems or your apparent uneasiness with being god-touched, but I'm not actually sorry. Feel pride for what you are! You're the first in centuries! And you're unique beyond the rest. You keep the memory of all the gods in the world! That's even better than what the gods have managed lately.

[The tension hasn’t left the line of his shoulders, his figurative hackles raised at the implication that who he was before didn’t matter. As if it were a thing to be discarded, something to ignore completely now that they apparently were considered divine. Markus, in all the importance he places on the self and his role back in Detroit, cannot abide by this.

But a clench of the jaw is his last bit of resistance, given life and then ignored. His unease with the idea will remain, but better to pull out answers from this man, just as the others are doing. He knows this.]

Gates and bridges. [An uttered repeat of what they’ve been told. And then—]

Implying that they lead somewhere. Where?

You're not the ones who put the god in us.

[It's not a question. It's also not on topic. Ball said they're getting the coordinates, so the Displaced could figure out what these gates did later. The way Ball talks around their questions still conveys a wealth of information. ]

Edited 2019-07-01 01:29 (UTC)

[Clarke has an idea—or rather, a theory. Is it one she should say here? What does Ball know about their dreams?

She considers trying to communicate this idea to the others, but with the network in the shape that it is, there's too much risk inherent in trying to convey it in a way in case it went to the wrong person. So, she doesn't.]

Did these gates bring us here? These bridges?

[ look, he's not going to go completely into this divine thing, so he just flattens his gaze and mutters rude when Ball does. then there's a wave of his hand as if it's somewhere else—he's used to this by now. ]

Though I have to ask how bridges link to the divine. How is that proof?

[ the first in centuries, huh. there's a lot that he thinks about this, but he does an impeccable job at looking casual about the whole thing. ]

[ After those remarks, Ball trains his gaze specifically on Sniper. His hands come to rest in his lap, one over another. There's a heaviness in the air.]

Despite the ambitions of the people of my world, no one can tell a god what to do. Do you think we could really tell a god where to go and what to do? At most, we can interact. Maybe harm what a god cares about. But they are stronger, more powerful. More present in all the world, even as they rest. [ Perhaps Ball is talking up his god, but it's hard to say. There are so many of them, and as far as Ball is concerned, the world keeps moving. He doesn't know the exact details of how they became god-touched or god-filled, but – he's heard rumors. He knows what those of his status hope to do. Their faith isn't real. ]

If a god made their way into you, then that was the god's choice. If you are merely touched by a god – as far as I've seen, there is no difference – that is how they involve themselves. Or hold strong even as those with god complexes seek to control them. [ Notably, Ball's voice is rather serious here, as well as a touch deeper. Frustrated. He walks a balance, and he keeps the followers of the gods in check because he doesn't want them hurt. ]

Years ago, these gates – these bridges – were created by the god-touched. Or by the gods themselves. The ... [ He waves a hand, flippant. ] ... information is contradictory at best. But there are enough records that they work. We don't know where they go, or how the system was formed, or if humanity had a greater reach than we ever believed. But we do know that we can't do anything with them, so you may prove to be the answer. If you don't, then perhaps the signs surrounding your coming here are wrong. I'm wrong. [ A sad, bittersweet smile. ] But I don't think I'm wrong. I know you are linked to the divine in some way.

Oh, and those bridges wouldn't have brought you here. That is one constant. Even as they speak of the stars and oceans and civilizations we can't begin to dream of, they still seem ... focused. We believe our gods are central to our portion of the universe. That's a guess. Perhaps it's selfish? [ His eyebrows quirk. ]

I realize I'm leaving it open, but it's not as if people like yourselves make an appearance very often. All the signs – all that I know personally – points to me being right. And the only reason that they don't control you ... don't try to keep you in cages once you're set free – [ They. Separate from whoever drops them off. Ball sounds certain about this. His information extends to wherever they are before the drop offs, though it's likely safe to assume he only knows a thin layer of details. ] – is because they think they will have more power than all of you combined in time. Soon, I'd think.

[ A sigh. Another sad smile. ]

Too soon.

Edited 2019-07-04 19:19 (UTC)

[This is a lot to take in; more revelations piled onto those already dumped in their laps. Markus' lips thin, pressed together tight, as Ball speaks. He tosses his gaze around the table to his fellow Displaced, trying put a pulse on their own reactions, but keeps silent all the while.

None of it is particularly comforting, but it's the last bit -- that lingering mystery of who 'they' are -- has the android plucking out a very specific question from a sea of them. Eyes flick back to Ball.]

What do you mean by that? Who will have more power, and how?

[Markus is covering the important question, but Sniper's not going to lose track of the fact that Ball has a lot of resources.]

And what exactly are you going to do for us if we look at these bridges for you?

[Clarke meets Sniper's eyes, shaking her head at the same time.]

This is a gift. If they can't use the bridges, there's a reason why. [Piecing it together. Worship. Things that can't be accessed. Even if it's the line between magic and science, there's still something in there that she can follow.]

We're not doing it for him. We're doing it for us.

You'll have to forgive us for being suspicious, but from our own observations everyone in this world seems to have their own motivations for their actions.

[ but Clarke trails off into something, sharing his thoughts for the moment. there's something that Markus caught that concerns him. ]

What kind of power would rival that of gods?

My motivations are little more than those tied to my belief. Belief itself can be selfish. [ Ball shrugs it off, as if it's nothing. ]

I can't answer the rest. I never said it was more powerful than gods. I said it was more powerful than you. Perhaps that's selfish? But I think you all can guess that there are many hands in play. [ And no matter what hands are in play, there are times when he may not be able to show them. ]

If I reveal them, I give myself away. Everything must be incremental.

Incremental. [It's repeated with a little bit of disbelief, worn with the heat.

Ball has provided them with information both substantial and unexpected. But while he's widened the scope for them where divinity is concerned, he only dangles a tease of information when it comes to those who might be a threat to their group. Markus finds that unsatisfactory.]

Surely you can give us something more to work with. Anything would be better than what knowledge we currently have.

[Which Markus ultimately believes amounts to a whole lot of nothing.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

EVENT LOG 005

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sorry, i somehow thought it wasn't my turn in the thread!

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