EVENT #011

[larkers]

WHO: Everyone on Earth in Meadowlark's world.
WHERE: The Aerie, a different world.
WHEN: Late July 2512.
WHAT: The first log of our AU event, taking place in an AU world that puts on battle royale events to cull the massive overpopulation.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Overwritten minds, horrible dystopian conditions, and more!

> EVENT #011

On the morning of July 26th, every living person on Earth will be spirited away from where they were mere moments before. Just like that. Hover cars will descend slowly in transit, trains will come to a stop without a screech of their breaks, and the streets throughout every single of the 104 megacities will be left barren, empty, and lifeless. Even those lost and hidden, not seen for months, are swept gently away with the rest of their brethren. No stone will go unturned.

The world upon their return may pick up where it's left off, or it will be changed in some way. Will it be July 26th when everyone finds themselves back where they were standing before? Or will something else happen during this time? Now that the supposed lifeblood of this planet is gone, what will happen in their absence? The world may not be able to go on how it had been.

Perhaps the more terrifying question is this: if something is powerful enough to steal away every person, every single one capable of thought, ideas, conflict, war, and more, what else could happen?

Perhaps it's for the best that it may be awhile before anyone has to worry about that.

For now, they've entered a world that's one week away from its next Quarry event: a place where The Aerie's criminals fight to prove they deserve to keep their life.

> THE WORLD ENDS WITH YOU (THE AERIE)

The Aerie is a structure that should not exist.

Made of steel and concrete, it gives off the impression that its guts were arranged haphazardly, as if an amateur surgeon had pulled them out and tried to put them back in again. Steel beams stretch out between buildings, connecting them together. There may have been a wall of concrete around this beam once upon a time, but it splintered and fell away, exposing its insides and opening up a pathway that people have taken for granted in the past fifty to a hundred years. Power lines hang in loose tangles throughout this little world, ready to fall away at the slightest breeze, then splinter and spark.

Most of the insides of The Aerie are barely preserved. Trying to do that would be an impossible task: there are too many people, too many who live in concrete layered on one another like stacks of broken shelves, too many who pass through open maws of ruptured pathways, crawling up onto the roof of a business for what they think is a shortcut to a higher level. Brittle walls that splinter off into clouds of chalky white dust are everywhere and anywhere.

How The Aerie came together was once a majestic feat: a place for people to live, thrown together as extinction surged forward like a towering beast on the horizon. There was a mix of minds behind the action, as well as a hollow sense of desperation. Even those who brought The Aerie into being knew that their lives were on the line. It was a matter of "make this work" or die. So, they made it work.

What's truly impossible about The Aerie isn't the hulking structures merged together at all manner of impossible angles, but the outer layer of this little world, looming overhead in shimmering, constant glory. The people of The Aerie are protected, safe; the world outside is a nebulous, uncertain mess of greys and greens and reds and blues. Storms surge just outside of the wall of The Aerie with sharp, constant bolts of lightning that batter the surface overhead. Once upon a time, the people of this little world feared those bolts cutting through and destroying their home. But it's been long enough now. No one lives in fear of what's outside, and no one wonders, not anymore. After all, the people who made it outside were never seen again. For a time, some people could watch through the clear walls as these escapees' bodies turned to irradiated mush with only bones left behind. In time, those bones withered away to dust. And with them, their memories were forgotten.

Within The Aerie, life goes on, just as it must: riddled with fear, with survival often depending on the ability to escape notice.

Only two parts of The Aerie remain unscathed, untouched by the passage of time and haphazard construction of this refuge:

The Volary, which stands tall and pristine at the heart of The Aerie. Lights burn within The Volary all day and all night, showing signs of life that most of the people outside of its walls will never see for themselves.

And then the Quarry, a structure built in haste and out of necessity. The same people who brought The Aerie together also made the Quarry. At its base are a series of office buildings, setting up monthly arena events where the guilty fight to show that they deserve to survive.

These two things are the source of all the fear in The Aerie. It's what keeps everyone's mind off the crumbling walls, the storms outside, and the miserable, unending passage of time.

> SOAK UP THE GLORY (THE VOLARY)

When The Aerie came into being, so did The Volary. Far from fragmented like the rest of this tiny, tiny world, it stands pristine, with brown bricks lining its exterior, and strong steel beams holding it strong within. Either through its making or its care, The Volary hasn't suffered from the hands of time like the rest of the world. Anyone outside of The Volary doesn't know the truth, though they could likely guess.

Inside of The Volary lives the members of Parliament: the newly-joined Magpies, the comfortable Rooks, and the looming and most powerful, the Cardinals.

The Cardinals live at the very top. Even after over two hundred years, the Cardinals remain impenetrable. New members are accepted into their ranks from time to time, granted secrets of a bygone era, but the rest of the world remains ignorant to their knowledge. At the heart of this structure is a cult, a belief system; they are the ones who decide if The Aerie lives or dies. For now, it continues to live. Of course, any other path would lead to their devastation as well. They may be nearly immortal, but they aren't truly untouchable and eternal.

Beneath them are the rest of Parliament, cocky in their comfort. Many were born into it, but some were raised into the ranks, finding their own footholds. Sometimes these elevations seem random; sometimes these promotions happen with purpose, with someone driving to catch the eye of a Rook who's looking for someone like-minded to have around them.

Outside of the Magpies, the Rooks that were once Magpies, and the once-members of The Congregation outside, everyone seems blissfully ignorant of the dilapidated world outside. There are some workers from the outside world who know, and some Carrion lucky to have their place among the elite—but there is a sense that some things shouldn't be spoken about, or else they may need to be responsible for it all. While the outside begins to age without any sign of renewal, this compound lives on—untouched, unbothered.

The Volary is set up in levels. The very bottom is where all the businesses that serve the people up above are located. It's where animals are raised and butchered, and where food is prepared before it's brought up to the upper levels. There are numerous common areas, but these can be rented out for any whim of any members of Parliament. Even the businesses themselves can be shuttered for the day, with preferred chefs invited to the upper levels to prepare meals to deal with these circumstances. (Someone from the Congregation can train as a chef in the Cotillion, even if they've never handled food of this nature their entire lives. It's a good job to have, as a number of favored chefs have been elevated to Magpies.)

Beyond the shops is the first level of living quarters for the various members of Parliament. Many Magpie and Rook suites are side by side, though some Rooks prefer not to be housed next to a newcomer and have made their preference known throughout the years. These suites are designed and adapted to its inhabitant's every need, and if someone is born into the family, they inherit their family's suite once someone dies. How is it that there could be space for all the members of Parliament, and so little room outside of the walls of this compound? Consider that yet another question that members of Parliament don't need to concern themselves with.

At the uppermost levels are the suites belonging to the Cardinals. Unless explicitly invited, no one is allowed onto these floors. Numerous Carrion have died throughout the years because they wandered up the wrong set of stairs, knowing that risk was looming over them.

And at the very top is where The Conclave meets. Newly elected members of Parliament visit this room once to receive their powers, only they recall nothing. No one knows what happens within the inner walls of The Conclave. Some have attempted to spy throughout the years. Needless to say, that didn't go well.

The Volary is the home of the pampered, the rich: the people who can ignore the dying world beyond them. Even those inheriting a sense of importance feel as if they've done enough—when they clearly don't do enough. At least those stuck outside may find themselves walking through the heavy front doors of this compound one day. Too bad it's based upon the powers of Parliament, and whether they deign to let someone inside. The only good news is that someone can be buzzed in via their power. That gives a real personal touch, right?

> NO WAY TO LIVE (THE CONGREGATION)

Outside of The Volary, The Aerie is set up in sectors, these sectors acting like rings that move further and further from The Volary up and down throughout The Aerie. Almost by necessity, the rings closer to The Volary are populated by Parliament's favorites. The upkeep around here is better: not pristine, but far from as bad as it gets as someone travels to the outer sectors. Many who have made a name for themselves in the Quarry live in these inner sectors, close to the people of Parliament. Many believe that the inner sectors are still tended to because members of Parliament would hate to face up to the fact of their world dying, and it may not be far from the truth.

In addition to better upkeep, the inner sectors experience less Shrike patrols, with the people allowed to live a life that allows them to remain ignorant to the world around them. They may not be Parliament, but their life in these sectors affords them the feeling of comfort. They don't have to fear their ceiling caving in; they don't have to fear a pipe bursting at an unfortunate moment; they don't have to fear wrongful arrest because they looked at someone the wrong way. It takes a lot for those from the inner sectors to have their lives ruined—but it's not exactly impossible. Of course, this is also where The Cotillion is kept, with numerous buildings and dormitories maintained for its students.

The further and further someone goes away from The Volary, the more life within The Aerie becomes difficult. The worst part is this: no one knows any better. They know the crumbling walls, the faded and peeling wallpaper, the revealed steel beams. They know the frequent Shrike patrols. They know that if they commit a crime, it's on them: they deserve whatever comes their way.

How does someone work in order to get by in these outer sectors? They can help man the bars, because drinking is as much a way of life here as it is back in the regular world. They can help upkeep of The Aerie. Someone can easily enter a trade alongside their compulsory schooling, especially if they aren't special enough for Cotillion training. Electricians are needed throughout. Maintenance of trains is needed throughout. Plumbers are needed throughout. And rations? They come by way of processing plants connected to hydroponic farms. More than a few times throughout the years, these plants have suffered breakdowns, and there have been ration shortages. But don't worry: Parliament continued on eating as if nothing changed outside.

Rations are given out three times a day through numerous rations checkpoints in each sector. These rations are like tasteless protein bars: enough to provide someone the meal they need, a bland mixture of carbohydrates, protein and fat sprinkled with essential nutrients, and little more. Attempts to make them more flavorful throughout the years have failed. Badly. It's probably better that they're bland little morsels. The good news is that they're filling. That may be the only good news.

Life isn't all misery and pain, even if job prospects are largely unfortunate if you're nothing special and the food is literally nothing to talk about. There is a thriving popular culture within The Congregation. There are numerous television shows and movies depicting the distant past, or even a brighter present: one in which the people of The Congregation managed to come together and make their lives better. Oddly enough, these don't tend to act as propaganda. They're just badly written, but done with an eye on hope and perhaps a better life. There are sports and games, though no official leagues have started up, almost certainly because they would compete with the Quarry for airtime.

Members of the Congregation are able to travel anywhere they like within The Aerie thanks to trains, with the only sector the train lines don't access being The Volary. They can peer down over the city, seeing a blurry line of grey all merging together, with people living their lives as best as they can. These trains go near the surface of The Aerie, too, granting someone a close up of the world outside, and reminding them that life could be much, much worse. It could be gone altogether.

> SO SHALL IT BE (QUARRY PREPARATIONS)

With one week remaining until the next Quarry event, preparations continue within The Company's headquarters. Located at the base of the arena out of necessity, The Company's offices are pristine and lifeless in nature. White walls, white ceiling tiles, and white chairs: nothing varies from anything else. How does it remain so surgical at all times? One can only wonder.

Numerous Quarries are being prepared at any given moment, with the televised sensations planned months in advance. Some plans are scrapped depending on competitors. Given the recurrence of Snipes, there are moments where plans need to be changed, where tension needs to be brought in. An arena designer may have to scrap his entire vision for a backup plan.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—The Company is a well-oiled machine. Need some crunch time to make sure a Quarry event is ready on time? The underlings at The Company are used to working long, long days to make it work.

The Quarry this time around is unknown, though there are suspicions of what it might be.

As for those waiting to enter the ring: they're free to live their lives, but many of them are undergoing talent training and preparation for the big event. They're going through interviews, getting sized for any costumes, and being asked to tell their stories. Some of the Snipes may be more than ready for this, while the Guineas will need to figure this out for themselves.

> A WILL TO FIGHT (THE KESTRELS)

Littered throughout the Congregation is a group that's been budding for a while. As much as this world is all they've known, there are some who believe that they deserve something better. The Quarry is unfair, and all throughout the many sectors, there are signs that The Aerie is breaking down and dying, barely keeping it together. These are people who may be afraid, but want to fight despite that fear.

Some of them have made themselves known: bearing a tattoo of a kestrel where others can see. Others hide who they are, but they're waiting. Planning. They strike when they can, but they know that time is running out. There are tiny safehouses throughout, typically through hatches underneath small local businesses that are sympathetic to the kestrels themselves. These people aren't members, but they put themselves at risk every day to protect this movement.

So, they have their sights set on this upcoming Quarry. It's time to bring change to The Aerie—or die trying.

> GOALS FOR THIS LOG

Either through talking ICly or OOCly, we'd like to have the following goals outlined and submitted to our comments below:

What is the Kestrels' plan in all of this? What do they intend to do?
This can include trying to find and meet with Prometheus, just as a note! Overall, we'd like an idea of what they'll be attempting with the upcoming Quarry so that we can work it into the next log.

What is the theme for the next Quarry arena?
We'd like to have some idea of a theme, as well as some submitted puzzles! We know that we're the kings of Vague Ass Puzzles, so feel free to be vague. We just want to give our Quarry participants something to look forward to.

Are there any other factors we need to consider?
Parliament upheaval? Plans to find out what Parliament is doing? Anything else that might come to mind? This is more loose!

We're giving a loose deadline of DECEMBER 7 with the next log going up on DECEMBER 12.

> FINAL OOC NOTES

Welcome to part one of our year-end AU event! We meant for this to be primarily be a description log to start play, especially since we feel that most of our critical information is in our Planning Post. We suggest that you do any necessary planning there for your select crews there, as well as use the "DM" system on Warbler for private stuff.

Of course, our questions thread is still open.

Since it's come up in the past: since all characters are in the AU, please feel free to do a catch-all post of anything you might want! Flashbacks! Anything open prompt-wise! Go wild with this stuff. This is always available during events, but we wanted to be explicitly clear here given the nature of this event.

As for mod-run social media, we have a post here on the network where we'll be steadily adding things throughout the event!

Our November Activity Check goes live on DECEMBER 1. AC for the month of December will be check-in only. It's a weird holiday season, but it will undoubtedly still be stressful for all of us.

Our next reserves will open on NOVEMBER 23 and our next application period will open on DECEMBER 1. We intend for all new or returning applicants to be kept outside of the AU. We have a special plotting opportunity and NPC ready for this scenario to help people integrate. However, if you have a friend who's apping to tap into the AU, let us know—we're not 100% married to our plans, but we worried about any new players apping into such a convoluted scenario after so much plotting has already taken place.

That's all for now. Have fun and for those of you who celebrate, have a Happy Thanksgiving! 🦃

> NAVIGATION

Comments

Julian Bashir!

[frontierbashir]

So Shall It Be

"This isn't going to work. You have to give people a chance to actually find and create their own antidote and this bacterium's toxin is deadly within the first 18 hours. That's barely enough time to brew it, not to mention you can only find the herb in one small patch." Julian does his best not to raise his voice. He is not frustrated with this bit. Not exactly.

It's that he's the medical consultant for the Company and thus the Quarry. It's that his direct input leads to the deaths of so many.

Though even without his input, they would still die.

"You can either make the herb more accessible, or eliminate the bacterial involvement altogether, as I see it."

He struggles with this day in and day out. A physician responsible for so much death--but he knows he contributes to healing as well, and so being caught and found out as a kestrel and sent into the Quarry would simply be a waste.

It's the only thing that carries him forward, being able to treat patients like a normal doctor outside of the Company.



A Will To Fight

There's a small safehouse for the Kestrels that Julian has set up his tiny, covert clinic underneath a distillery. He joined the movement for this--the simple, no-strings-attached pleasure of healing the way he was taught, and, in his opinion, born to do. For anyone that gets hurt or injured or sick that doesn't feel comfortable for whatever reason wandering around in an attempt to get proper medical care, Julian is there--particularly for kestrels that are getting themselves into trouble messing with any shrikes, no questions asked.

That's a lie. Julian needs to ask some questions, but only as related to medical care.

If you're a buddy of his in the kestrels, you will find him here most evenings.


Other

Every once in a while, Julian just needs a drink to, counterintuitively, clear his head from a day of working with the callous people of the Company.

He can often be found in a corner of a dingy bar near where he lives in the mid-rings of the Congregation, drinking either a beer or sipping on the awful distilled spirits available near them. It's no secret that he works with the Company and is Cotillion-trained, but the good doctor prefers to live out here, where people need him the most. For those that know the Kestrels or are known Kestrel sympathizers, they'll recognize that Julian is one of them.

However, someone could always mistake him as a sympathizer for Parliament and get upset at him too.

[ooc: If there's anything else you want to play out, let me know! Totally open for it!]

Other

[plainsimple]

"I see you're out here pretending to be of the people," Garak drawls, coming over to Julian. It is not the safest of things to do. He has his suspicions and he knows that Julian has his own, but there's something alluring about the threat the doctor might pose. Intoxicating, even.

He trails his fingers lightly over Julian's back as he scoots around behind the man, smirking by the time he sets his cup on the table and fully joins the man.

"How has your day gone, doctor?"

[frontierbashir]

Ah yes, Julian's favorite likely-Shrike. One that keeps him on his toes and reminds him not to get sloppy. At the same time, he doesn't dislike their interactions. In fact, he enjoys how many different layers their conversations can take on.

Julian pointedly takes another sip of his drink, wincing slightly at the burn of the alcohol before he turns a pleasant smile on his uninvited guest.

"'Pretending'? Because I'm like many others and simply wish to have a drink after a long day of work?"

[plainsimple]

He chuckles, resting his elbows on the table before he takes a drink himself.

"Pretending, because you have the means to gain enough favor to get out of this situation and yet you remain. Unlike many others, you care." It's accusation and observation both. He finds this man befuddling as well as attractive and dangerous. How can someone care and survive? Obviously he must soothe his conscience some by helping in other areas. Garak just doesn't know where he's helping, or who, just yet. Not for sure.

[frontierbashir]

"Mister Garak, one doesn't stay in medicine long if they don't care. Is that a crime, to care?" An intentional jab here, knowing full well Garak has the authority to arrest anyone...essentially for whatever he wants.

"I stay here because people need me here. It's a simple concept. 'Where can I do the most good?' And the answer is outside of the inner circle." And he wishes it could be outside of the Company as well. At the very least, he can subtly try to change some of the more deadly traps to make them less agonizing, less painful in some way for those forced into the Quarry.

[plainsimple]

It's the little jabs that make Garak so certain Bashir is a Kestral, the way he challenges and pushes on top of how he cares. It's also the little jabs that keep Garak coming back.

"The most good is a complicated, subjective matter, though." He leans forward, still smiling. Always smiling. "A man of your talents could help so many inside said inner circle, and they're what keep civilization going, are they not? If we're to speak of civic responsibility and crime, we could ask the question of when denying your services to them might actually be harmful."

His voice isn't as loud as it could be. He doesn't want anyone else to think he's actually accusing the doctor of a crime. He wants to keep this little bit of joy in his life, these argumentative bright spots.

[frontierbashir]

"Is it? Contrary to popular belief, every life matters." And that is a firm core belief of his. Even though most around here would also disagree.

Julian is careful to keep his voice loud enough for Garak, but only Garak.

"And Mr. Garak I have never denied service to anyone that requires it. There are simply more people outside of the Volary than in it, hence why you see me here, and not closer there. Also, a counterpoint--" This time he leans in and ensures his voice is lower. "If all the Congregation fell ill and there was no doctor around, who would Parliament exert influence over?" This is quite a dicey conversation with someone Julian is 99.9% sure is a shrike, but they've had this kind of antagonistic, yet...friendly? banter before and Julian hasn't been arrested yet.

Perhaps Garak was only biding his time. Julian certainly doesn't think Garak knows for sure he's a Kestrel. He leans back in his chair again, taking a large sip from his glass and watching Garak's expression.

[plainsimple]

They're dancing on the edge of outright rebellious talk, or at least Julian is and Garak's letting him. What else can he do? Yes, he could arrest the man, but he'd lose so much and so the game continues.

"Exert influence? Is that all you think they're about? They would have far less upkeep to do as well, have to deliver fewer rations, have to worry about crime less. Fewer members of the congregation means fewer resources needed there, and they could even think about rebuilding portions of the Aerie. Improving, even. Is quantity of lives more important than quality, in your opinion?"

The answer will of course be yes. Garak has seen this man at work, he's heard the passion in his voice. He takes another drink, leaning back as well and letting his eyes wander a little. He's going to piss Julian off and that's absolutely part of the plan; the doctor flusters so beautifully. But there's a limit to his fun, because Garak doesn't want the man dead. He's a little more sentimental and attached than he really should be.

[frontierbashir]

Julian can only assume he's entertaining as the reason Garak hasn't arrested him yet. Or perhaps he's a fan of some of the obstacles in past Quarries that Julian had helped concoct.

Unfortunately, talking to Garak so often also means Garak has had a chance to figure out exactly what buttons to press. He looks at Garak sharply.

"I'm a doctor and I don't look at people en masse. If someone is suffering in front of me, I will help them, regardless of who they are." He doesn't take his eyes off of Garak as he takes another large, huffy sip of his drink. That goes beyond their games. He refuses to allow questioning of the worth of people's lives just because of the class they're born into.

So Shall It Be

[nonstopnarcissist]

"How long does it take to brew?" Data, Tony requires data as he flips from file to file, trying to find a plausible solution. High stakes and drama push along the narrative of the Quarry more than anything else at times and having a good story with good stakes is more important than, well, killing everyone.

Even if that's mostly the goal.

"We up the patches of herb we'll have to up the number of toolkits that will let them brew the cure, spaced too far apart they won't make the connection..." A five percent window of find, figure out, and create cure is- not large enough for dread to set in. They can swap out for a different bacteria but the boys down in bioengineering already put all their eggs in this basket. "Give me numbers, J, I can work with those."

[frontierbashir]

"The bacterium doesn't cause symptoms in most people for at least 3 hours post-infection, up to 5 hours depending on one's metabolism, so you're down to 13-15 hours now. If they realize they were exposed and they're not already vomiting--since the toxin peaks at 6 hours post-exposure--they have to find the toolkit, and it takes at minimum for there to be anything effective, 18 hours. In the meantime, they will steadily decompensate and the chances of anyone being alive by then approaches zero."

Julian can do numbers. He does them very well and always has, though it's not clear where he got the ability from. It makes talking to Tony very simple, easy. They can speak on the same level.

Now getting him to understand? A different story.

"I think we have to scrap this, or else have an antidote partially done for them to find." He's not sure of the entertainment value of that. He fights down the nausea that accompanies that thought.

[nonstopnarcissist]

"Or a full version available but in limited quantities- this, this is why I told them to diversify their options down in Bio but 'no, this'll look cool' or something." Tony rolls his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he considers their options. Going from scratch, possible, but it'll take too long and it won't work for the narrative. Limited quantities of cure-

Probably the way to go.

"If we get it half done for them, split it into two component parts, make it less of a brew and more of a hunt-" Because everyone loves a hunt, otherwise this whole mess wouldn't work half as well as it did. "Would that be feasible within the time frame?"

[frontierbashir]

Julian pauses, seemingly staring off into space as he runs the numbers through his head, thinking about the arena this time and its design.

Then thinking about the treatment...if they're not limited to the herb itself...

"If we go that route, it's possible to divide the treatment into two parts: the base and the catalyst. Once combined, it would only take five hours to complete the reaction and be used as an antidote."

He looks down at the map of the arena.

"If we put either component here," he points towards one edge of the arena, "behind the high-voltage wires, and the other around here," he points to an edge nearly entirely across the arena longitudinally, "simply hidden in the high grass, I anticipate that, of those infected, likely around 30% of the total number of participants, 60% of them would be able to find one component but only 40% of them would be able to find both components in time. Accounting for some differences in body chemistry that may speed up the toxin...approximately 30% of the original number of participants who get infected would be left standing at the end of strictly this challenge." That doesn't account for all of the other fun obstacles Tony and the others have cooked up.

"So yes, feasible, and likely to take down a few participants without decimating them." Taking out people too early isn't great entertainment either.

"You should know better than anyone that once Bio gets something into their minds, they won't be swayed away from it. Although you can't fault them for their eagerness." Eagerness to engineer biochemical weapons to be used on their own neighbors. It's been getting more difficult recently to continue with work. He's grateful he has the kestrels to potentially use this information for some good.

[nonstopnarcissist]

"So-" He flips through to the map, eliminating the pocket of herbs, dragging the components where Julian's pointed out and runs the math on distances, the likelihood of crossing paths with other contenders- it's not overly contagious (been there, done that, too much of a risk with too little payout)- and how that would affect travel times. The new numbers? Are much more reasonable.

Manageable.

Optimal tension, optimal incentive, an acceptable number eliminated without things becoming sadistic or unfair. Nevermind that the whole situation is wildly unfair, reminding the viewers of that fact never ends well. This? Is a solid compromise.

"These alterations in place- I'd rather not make it a standard environmental trap It'd be too early in the game to knock that many out- if we shift the canisters around to a second stage supply drop, now..." That'd extend the situation. Not that every trick and trap gets deployed but it's best to plan around the ones they know are most likely to pop off when things get chaotic.

"One of them nearly made smallpox again- it's the third time this has happened, it can't be anything but deliberate." They've not got many rules here, they're designing death and spectacle, but contaminants on that scale?

Pretty damn forbidden.

[frontierbashir]

"They are absolute sadists down there," he mutters. He's had only very brief in-person contact with them. Julian prefers to consult indirectly with the engineers of death for the Quarry. He doesn't think he can stomach much more contact with them.

"It would also be an interesting obstacle to introduce after some guards are let down after getting through the first stage. The bacterium is a bit more insidious." He's fairly certain he's learned to cordon off the rest of his psyche at times to talk like this. All of this is part of the reason he joined the kestrels. The inhumanity, and how it eats away at his humanity. No one should have to talk like this about other people.

But he's already tainted so he might as well continue onwards and not let others contaminate themselves with this filth.

Oh how he longs for clinic this evening, when he can actually heal people.

[nonstopnarcissist]

"Reasons I don't let them out of their labs or invite them to the fun parties." It's not as though he has the power to curtail anyone's social or upward mobility in the Company save for the very specific ways in which he can make such climbing incredibly difficult if he's of a mind. There are certain traits in people he doesn't mind giving a hand up.

And a hell of a lot he doesn't want anywhere near Parliament.

"Honestly- I prefer the binary traps. Pass or fail, keep it quick." Efficient. "But-"

Tony shrugs, rubbing the angle of his jaw, eyes focused more on the middle distance. "Suffering brings ratings and apparently the Odinsons have been bored the past few months which- not normally a problem but Thor is very loud and very opinionated."

And that can roll downhill if they aren't careful.

A Will to Fight

[coalitions]

Lexa is not someone who gets injured often, but she is the person who often convinces other people they need to see a doctor. Everyone is paranoid about who knows what, but she is always pragmatic but empathic too. Taking care of each other is how the Kestrels survive, how they're going to win in the end (or so she stubbornly believes).

Sometimes she simply stays with Julian so there is someone to supervise and protect him if need be. The Kestrels are her life. It's not as if she has anything else to go to. She's pulling her hair down once it's just the two of them there, smiling warmly.

"Thank you, Dr. Bashir. We'd have a high infection rate if it wasn't for you." Times were hard enough.

[frontierbashir]

"Please, call me Julian in the safehouses," he replies, grinning brightly her way. They're not that far apart in age. He always prefers the Kestrels call him by his name in the safehouses. They're essentially his family now.

Not to mention a pretty woman like Lexa now currently letting her hair down in the literal sense is someone he'd like to be on more familiar terms with.

He's re-counting his supplies after the few people that came in this evening in order to take stock. He's happy for the company.

"I'm glad to help. I look forward to it everyday after work." He doesn't make his day job a secret. If it wasn't him that was working with the Company, someone else would be and they might not be attempting to learn more information from the inside and passing it along to the Kestrels.

[coalitions]

"Julian, then." It's not the first or last time he'll ask her to do that, but Lexa always means it as a sign of respect. It's rare they get someone like him willing to help them. They're a bit of a ragtag group. She also refers to him as Dr. Bashir to everyone else, so that's a habit not likely to break soon.

There is a lot to worry about with the quarry coming up and the people within the quarry. Lexa wishes she was able to just banish those anxieties from her mind, but she can't. She tries to focus on one task at a time. Helping him helps everyone.

She smiles and shakes her head, running fingers through her long wavy hair. "You're more enthusiastic than most people who end up helping us. Not that I blame them, but it's good that someone cares."

a will to fight

[personalwar]

It's rare that Jack ever has to come by the makeshift clinic for actual medical care. For the most part, he's too careful for that. Up until recently, that is; now that the official announcements of the Quarry participants have been released via Warbler, there's no hiding it anymore.

He's not actually here to talk about that, though. Jack strides into the safehouse carrying a small package. This has become a routine between him and Julian. His job in agriculture allows him access to certain ingredients that can be made into medical remedies, and every now and then he's able to skim some off the top and smuggle it here, for use on their own.

Regardless of what happens to him during the Quarry fight, if his plan works or if he ends up mercilessly cut down, there are still people who are going to need Julian's care. Jack will help with that cause, up until the end, even if they don't always see eye to eye on who that care goes to.

He finds Julian at his desk, probably working on some more paperwork or who-knows-what. The work of a physician is never over, it seems.

"Hey, doc," Jack says by way of greeting as he steps forward to set the brown paper bag down in front of him.

[frontierbashir]

Julian makes sure to document as much detail as possible on his patients. Just in case.

If something were to happen to him, he wants to ensure he communicates clearly with whoever takes care of these patients next. Thinking like this is just the reality of his life and his situation.

He heard Jack walk in, but he needs to finish just a couple of more words...and...there. Right as the paper bag is set in front of him, Julian drops the pen, closes the file and smiles up at his comrade.

"Jack, good to see you," he says genuinely as he takes the bag and opens it to find the bounty inside. His face lights up further.

"These will be perfect for analgesics. Thank you." He folds up the bag and places it atop one of his filing cabinets for later. He'll need to dry them for use.

Julian comes back to the desk and looks up at Jack, smile fading a bit as he remembers.

"I saw the list." Of course he did. He's one of the members of the Company after all. He was dismayed to see Jack's name on the list.

[personalwar]

Jack is no doctor, not even close, but he's spent enough time around Julian that he knows which plants and herbs can be compounded into something useful. There's a nod when the thanks are offered, as both of them are aware of the risk that he takes every time that he smuggles something in here.

Not that it matters anymore. He's already allowed himself to be "caught." It's not a plan he'd discussed with more than a couple of people, and while he knows that makes him something of a hypocrite, his mind is already made up.

It had been foolish to think Julian wouldn't say something, though, and Jack heaves out a sigh and nods.

"It was by design." That doesn't mean that he hasn't essentially offered up his life to the cause, so to speak, and there's a good chance that it will all be for nothing. In truth, he's already come to terms with that. He wouldn't have put his head on the chopping block otherwise. He doesn't actually want to talk about it, but he knows that Julian won't just let it go. He crosses his arms over his chest, shoulders bunched up, body tense. Giving every signal that this is a conversation he would rather not have.

"I have a plan," he claims.

Other

[evasives]

Cassian has come to Julian for medical reasons too many times to really count over the last few years - it was how they first met to begin with. Now is not one of those times. Instead he works his way through the Congregation for his friend's usual favorite haunts, sliding into the seat beside him at the bar.

"You are still predictable." He signals the bartender, glances at what the alcoholic choice for Julian is today. "One of those days?"

As though the quarry announcements ever put anyone in a good mood. Cassian's feeling fighty, evident in the way he fidgets with the glass when it comes his way. But he always feels that way deeply in the few hours after the spectacle begins all over again.

[frontierbashir]

Despite starting off as merely doctor and patient, there's something about Cassian that inexplicably draws Julian. And so he brightens ever so slightly when he sees his friend sit down next to him.

It goes away immediately with Cassian's comments.

"Or simply a bad habit." He takes a sip of his drink. He doesn't drink often enough to consider himself a problem drinker, but he wished he could quit using it as a way to take the edge off on especially bad days.

In his hand today is the hard stuff. Today deserves it.

He lowers his voice ever so slightly. "When you have the job I do, almost everyday is 'one of those days'," he replies darkly. While he doesn't make it a secret what his job is, he prefers not to announce it to strangers. The Kestrels understand that someone needs to do the job and are grateful that at least they have someone on the inside. At least, most of the Kestrels. There are some that want nothing to do with Julian outside of his medical abilities, which is fine. Julian almost understands.

Julian picks up Cassian's inability to sit still. He doesn't comment on it yet, only takes a sip of his drink. "And what have you been up to today?" His voice returns to normal volume. Just two friends chatting over a drink.

[evasives]

"As far as bad habits go, drinking is probably one of the more mild ones." At least compared to what some of the people up in the volary get up to.

"You do a lot for us there, even if it's a lot for you." Julian is in a good position to help the kestrels, but Cassian doesn't envy him. He knows he personally wouldn't be able to handle it, and to this day he still doesn't know how Julian does it day in and day out. Cassian works for transportation, which is enough to help him float by, enough to give him a real technical understanding of engineering, but being around the volary even when it's only with Jyn is sometimes too much for him.

"Nothing significant." But oh how he wants to change that. He wants to get up to a lot of different things, that feeling always intensifies around the quarry, but it feels worse this time somehow. "But we could be with more coordination."