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- !event log,
- altered carbon: takeshi kovacs,
- dark angel: alec mcdowell,
- dark angel: max guevara,
- dceu: diana prince,
- detroit become human: connor,
- dogs b&c: nill,
- game of thrones: daenerys targaryen,
- gangsta: alex benedetto,
- kingdom hearts: riku,
- kingdom hearts: sora,
- mcu: daisy johnson,
- npc: ball,
- overwatch: soldier 76 (jack morrison),
- persona: goro akechi,
- star wars: cassian andor,
- star wars: jyn erso,
- the 100: clarke griffin,
- the gifted: marcos diaz,
- the man from uncle: gaby teller,
- the man from uncle: illya kuryakin,
- the vampire diaries: caroline forbes
EVENT LOG 005
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: November 11-14
WHAT: An EMP hits with devastating consequences.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Violence, injury, death.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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."
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.
no subject
Now, he doesn't feel as uneasy with the notion. Still more somber and serious than Sora, he knows it could be worse to get a peek inside.]
I'm good, but I'm not that good. [It's a bit of a joke, told with a quirk of his lips. He nods toward her.] I can handle it if you can—I trust you with it.
[Thoughts taken off of what's happened outside, he feels at ease sharing that sentiment with her. The nagging sadness still gnaws at him, telling him that if he was stronger still, if he had his abilities, he could do more. He hates that, hates being reminded of those thoughts and feelings. He drives them away, focusing on her.]
Otherwise, we wouldn't be here, right? [Getting a lesson? Sure. But this is for her to take care of him—and for him to accept that completely.]
no subject
His joke makes her smile, putting her a little at ease, and she nods.]
I'll be careful.
[It's an assurance for both of them. People's feelings are a private affair, and Nill may be an info broker, but she doesn't like digging around in her friends' personal business. Or emotions.
She wets a cloth from the small sink in the room, and starts gently cleaning away the blood on his face. She's very conscious of where her hands are, and on the occasion that she does accidentally brush against his skin, he may sense a deep-seated concern covering up a profound exhaustion.
To distract from any contact, she sends a stream of text his way:]
You have to make sure there isn't anything in the cut, like dirt or small rocks. Those could make it get infected. It looks like your cut is clean.
[She tosses the bloodied towel in the sink, reaching for cotton pads and antiseptic. Nill cocks her head to one side, deciding with relief that butterfly stitches will be just fine for this. She eyes him for a moment before reaching out to dab at the cut.]
This might sting. What happened, anyway?
[Now that she's over her initial shock at seeing him with a bloodied face, she's curious.]
no subject
There weren't any lights inside of the shop, but he heard someone as he passed.]
I went inside to find the person in there. Some of the glass of the window came down and—[he cants his head to the side, ever so slightly. Nill can definitely guess what came next.
Telling the story helps him retain his calm. His ease. If she touches him as he explains, there will be something about him that seems focused, pleased with the distraction. That same something is muddled by fatigue, as well as a need to get back out there. He just knows that's a bad idea, so he's not impatient to move. Just—just feeling the need to do it at all.]
I guess I'm lucky that it wasn't a particularly dirty piece of glass, huh? The guy I found under the car—he looked bad, but I got him to a hospital. I think—I hope he'll be okay. [That was a place where he needed curaga, too. A hint of guilt surfaces and fades. Riku can't chastise himself for losing his powers. That's a bad road. That's always a bad road.]
Have you been out there? Doing this? [Because she does feel tired and all.]
no subject
Her calm is shot through with sorrow and a deep, tender compassion as he tells her what happened. Despite seeing a myriad of horrors in her life, she isn't any less hurt to hear about this. Her heart has never been hardened by everything she's gone through.]
He will be.
[She can't know, but saying it makes it seem more likely. Besides, Riku is the one who found him---she knows he'd have done everything he could to make sure the man got the help he needed. There's no doubt in her mind about that.
She finishes cleaning his cut and offers a smile, shrugging.]
Almost since the EMP went off.
[Because she'd had that moment of weakness, when she hadn't been able to move. The memory of the ship failing, all flickering lights and screeching metal, had made her freeze. She'd believed she couldn't breathe, believed she was about to die again--only Heine bursting into the room to check on her had snapped her from her memories. Those are minutes she can't get back, but she hopes she's made up for her fear by being out there to help those in need.
Still trying to distract the both of them, she tosses the used antiseptic wipes in the sink and reaches for the butterfly stitches.]
It isn't bad enough to need real stitches, so I'm going to use these butterfly stitches. They'll hold the cut together while it heals.
no subject
He can't help but admire it. Even as she goes on. The bit with the butterfly stitches. Knowing how to help him.]
Sorry for keeping you from it, [he says, though Riku knows full well that she would want to help him. That's what she said, right?] Though I guess if things were easier and I got a cut like this, I'm supposed to ask you for help anyway. If you wanna go back out and need a hand, I'll be right there beside you.
[Yes, as soon as he says it, he knows that he should be resting. He knows it, but there is little chance of that happening. In a way, she's inspired him to keep moving, and to know that there is a little that he can do with a first aid kit until someone is at the hospital and getting the real help they need.
A first aid kit. Some water and some sunscreen. They can do a lot with that.]
no subject
She begins unwrapping one of the small bandages, and offers a crooked smile.]
Don't be. I actually came in here to try and sleep. I won't be much use to anyone if I'm dozing on my feet.
[It's a not-so-subtle hint that he also looks tired, looks like he could use a few hours of rest. She can't tell how much blood he's lost, but she'd be surprised if it wasn't enough to weaken him at least a little. His body needs time to recover. All of them do.
She holds the strip in her her hands, taking a deep breath, in and out. Centering herself, focusing.]
With butterfly stitches, you start in the middle of the wound. That helps the edges line up more evenly. Hopefully, it won't leave a scar.
[She still doesn't think it will, but there's really no telling until it heals. Carefully, she presses one end of the stitch to his head, leaning down so she can get a good look and make sure she lines up the edges of the cut as best she can. There's no avoiding touching him now, as she has to place her fingers on his face, gently pushing until the skin looks nearly closed. She's completely focused on the task, on ignoring just how tired she is. One more person, she thinks to herself. She's helping one more person, and that's worth something.]
no subject
Riku can't withhold the guilt from that. This right here is why he has a hard time asking for help. But he shoves it aside. Trusts her need for autonomy. For what she wants him to do. Trusts that she knows her limits. There is no part of him that can slip like he used to, setting aside how someone else felt in order to project what he feels is right. (Or thinks is right. The merger between those two things is a constant. Unavoidable.)
He keeps calm while she finishes. Once her hands seem like they're about to draw away, he sends a grateful feeling toward her, eyes looking up at her through thick, dark eyelashes.]
Thank you. [The words matter, too.]
You should rest. ["I don't like that I kept you from it." But he doesn't say it. Instead, he holds out his hand, palm forward.] We can head to the cots now.
no subject
So when she feels Riku's guilt, her reaction is automatic: she calms her mind, finding that well of peace that lives in her heart and bringing it to the surface. She still isn't entirely sure how the empathy bond works, which emotions they can share and which fall by the wayside, but she just thinks about the good things Riku has done, how he's put himself in danger to help others, how he'd kept his promise to ask for help, and hopes those thoughts will come through as soothing. He has nothing to feel guilty about. When the feeling disappears, whether because he's shoved it deep down or her own emotions have had an impact, she doesn't know. But she does feel a little better herself once it's gone.
The stitches hold, the cut looks much better now that it's closed. When she feels his gratitude, her hands linger just a moment longer along the side of his face, marveling just a little at the feeling--until she realizes and drops her arms to her sides, wings fluttering behind her for a moment before settling.]
No problem.
[She smiles, only a little pink high on her cheeks, and nods.]
You, too.
[Nill looks down at his upturned palm for half a heartbeat, considering, mindful of her own exhaustion and the way he'd felt before, trying to find a careful middleground that doesn't relay too much, and then reaches out to gently take his hand.]
Yeah. An hour or two of sleep can make a world of difference.
no subject
He lets his heart speak for him. He's grateful. Appreciative. Understanding. That she tries to stymie his guilt from the go means a lot. The warmth he projects is real, thorough. No need to hold it back.
Once her hand meets his palm, his fingers wrap around it. By now, the intimacy of this is apparent to Riku. No need to worry about sharing emotions. They're already there. Any brief disconnect is only that—brief. And somehow—he's okay with that. If Nill were an enemy, that'd be a problem. But she could never be that.]
Let's stop off in the kitchen to drink a glass of water first. Then we'll sleep.