station72 | EMPTY CHAIRS AT EMPTY TABLES

Entry tags:

EMPTY CHAIRS AT EMPTY TABLES

CHARACTERS: All
WHERE: Concordia - VEN DIAGRAMS HQ + BOUT IT OUT PARLOR + BEARINGS APARTMENT BLOCK
WHEN: Late Day :022 + Early Day :023
SUMMARY: The results of all your hard work - for better or worse. One win, one draw, one loss. Anakin Skywalker bites the big one.
WARNINGS: Violence, non-graphic character death.

IT’S BEEN A LONG DAY. Unfortunately, that’s not about to change any time soon. In the late hours of the evening, two things are happening: the final round of the Bout It Out expose between Kun-Kun and The Darkling is spooling up; meanwhile, the infiltration team at Ven Diagrams is working to retrieve information on H+H1 from the company’s security drive. Unfortunately, neither is going to reach the natural conclusion.

At the REGAL STREET GAMING PARLOR, emotions are running high. After a long day of simulation violence and the reveal of Kun-Kun’s new automaton fighting avatar, the crowd has been stoked to a few pitch. The music’s loud but the crowd is louder: cheering and booing, shouting for every landed or evaded strike. There’s an electric pulse of excitement in the air-- and then there’s a very literal one as an electromagnetic pulse rocks the Regal Street Parlor. The Bout It Out ring shorts and the entire parlor is pitched into total, window-less darkness. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for the crowd’s excitement to melt into panic. Pushing, shoving, shouting - a piercing shriek as one of Kun-Kun’s representatives is stabbed. The nearby hosts (Lexa, Sam Alexander, and anyone in their faux attachment) should be able to help Kun-Kun and his reps to safety, but the crush of the crowd tangles up everyone else. When a rudimentary bomb goes off in the center of the parlor, it catches plenty of people in the crossfire.

There’s a white hot flash. A pulse of heat. A sizzle of agony. It’s a pain that guts, that persists long after the flash of the bomb and extends all the way to the infiltration team at Ven Diagrams. It’s like a limb badly severed. Anakin Skywalker is killed by the blast and every host knows it before they’re aware of anything else.

Unluckily for the infiltration team, they won’t have much time to recover. News of the bombing hits Extraspace in a matter of seconds, which triggers Ven Diagrams - paranoid from the recent attack on their own properties - to lock down their headquarters. All systems are tightened and security clamps down before the infiltration team can access the private servers. If you’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be, now’s the time to get the hell out of dodge.

Retreat, regroup. Upon returning to the Bearings apartment block, the hosts will find that two of their previously comatose friends have woken up: Hux and Aoba Seragaki will probably need to be briefed on the current situation.

     I. THE ROOM WHERE IT HAPPENS
In the Regal Street Gaming Parlor, a pulse flashes. Electronics sizzle. A fight reaching rhythm is shattered and darkness consumes the parlor in its entirety. There’s something like a collective inhale - and then the panic sets in. Screaming. Pushing. Elbows in the dark and a wave of bodies forcing their way toward wherever they think the exit is. Parlors like this one are supposed to be shielded from this kind of problem, but today that doesn’t matter. In just a few short moments of panic, a bomb - basic compared to the one that blew out the Ven Diagram warehouse only days ago - goes off.

There’s a buzz. An electrical hiss. In the wake of the explosion - in the wake of the agony of Anakin’s death -, the parlor’s fire systems go off flooding the upper and lower levels, the spectator balconies with flame retardant powder and coolant. The emergency lighting kicks on, throwing the carnage into stark fluorescent light. The probable intended victim has escaped, along with his entourage, but there are plenty of wounded - groans and weeping permeate the chemical stale air. In addition to Anakin, three people have been killed and two androids have been rendered into scrap by the explosion. Countless others could use help; maybe even a few other hosts have been wounded by the blast.

     II. MEANWHILE...
If you’re part of the infiltration team, you’ve officially overstayed your welcome. Security tightens to a chokehold; if you’re somewhere you shouldn’t be, it’s time to leave. An alarm blares through the development laboratories. The building is evacuated and then sealed throughout. The powerlifts cease operation. All networked systems go offline.

     III. FROM THE JAWS OF DEFEAT
Back at the parlor, the evacuation continues. The parlor is half-collapsed, there are injured to tend to and local authorities to deal with. In a matter of minutes, the the parlor is swarmed by public security and medical personnel. If you’re able bodied, you’re welcome to assist with rescue efforts - or try to find a lead on who could’ve been responsible for this. Some evidence, some sign - anything to make this worth it. During this time those with Kun Adetokunbo will have the chance to make their case.

It’s a long, protracted clean up and triage; it’s absolutely possible that some of the infiltration team members might make it to the site of the explosion to assist or care for their friends.

     IV. WE TEND OUR WOUNDED, WE COUNT OUR DEAD
In the early hours of the morning on Day 023, the hosts limp back to Bearings. Maybe it should be achingly quiet, but it’s not - there’s a murmur of activity in the mental air as Hux and Aoba muddle out of their way from out of their comas. From here, it’s up to to the hosts to recover, to discuss how they want to proceed, and come up with a way to recover from this setback - and from Anakin’s death.

((OOC NOTES: Here it is, your wrapup log for the event! You may have noticed that the Hosts didn’t succeed at the Ven Diagrams infiltration. We thought this was a better way than asking everyone to handwave a huge amount of plot or simply having the NPCs get the evidence. Don’t worry though - there will be other mysteries to unravel soon. Very soon, in fact.

There will be an NPC top-level for the escape with Kun-Kun, but otherwise you’re free to make your own top levels! If you have any questions please feel free to ask them in the event OOC post.

Thanks everyone!))

NAVIGATION • SETTING • FAQ • MOD CONTACT • GLOSSARY

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[...CRACK! goes the Darkling's kick. WHUF goes the technically enhanced sound of Kun-Kun's quick one-two side step, the sing of his swing. He takes the blow to his midsection. He locks his elbow around the Darkling's leg and moves to wrench him off his feet.

There's a shriek from the crowd. There's a shriek from the machines supporting the match. There's a garbled sound and the system chokes. The music dies. The lights flicker, the avatars scramble and the lights cut out. Darkness, that precious thing, collapses around them as all the power in the parlor shorts.]

((ooc: this is closed to the Darkling and the hosts who planned to have their back room meeting with Kun-Kun and his representatives.))

Edited 2016-07-29 04:23 (UTC)

[It's hardly the first time she's been on the edge of an explosion. Compared to the missile that hit Ton DC (compared to the memories of the explosions that have passed to her from the other commanders), she finds herself able to determine what comes next due to the size of this one. Still, there is an aching pain that surges through her and limits her, blinding her. At first, it's because of the loss ... and then the recognition of just who was lost. He may not be in her brood, but Ahsoka Tano is. That says everything, because she knows the importance of him to her, and what it means.

But Lexa cannot be limited by her emotions, or the emotions of another. Even if it makes her want to wretch with the lost (because as she's told Angel before, she has experienced that loss—she most certainly has, even without the significance of symbiotic ties included), she cannot be held back. If anything else, it's that determination which strengthens her, giving her the ability to push through.]

Come with us, [she barks quickly to Kun-Kun and his security, fingers wrapping around the fighter's arm.] I'm security for our company. [The lie is ready, easy, and available. She will not be stopped. How often have bombs or missiles been used as a threat against her people? Even if she doesn't trust their goal as Hosts (or that the Enemy is somehow not interlinked with the Nest itself), she will not let these people be intimidated from their future this way.]

[ Sam knows pain. He's been punched clear to Paris by the Hulk. He's flown into the heart of a star.

If that were all this was, he could handle it.

But this goes deeper, and he's not expecting it, and a surprised yelp makes it halfway out of him before he clamps a hand over his own mouth to shut himself up, squeezing his eyes shut for just a second.

Focus. Focus.

His eyes snap open and he's on his feet, looking to Lexa. ]

Which exit?

Out back. We'll be able to have our privacy, but we won't be removed from the premises. [Lexa understands little about this world's security forces, but she at least grasps what she's learned from arriving here. When things like this happen, investigations begin. People attempt to seek out answers from the scene of the crime. People are questioned. None of this occurs in her world, but she knows that her people are different. They are self-policing by villages, with the occasional overarching cases brought to the attention of the commander when they are particularly terrible.

Just as she told the Darkling earlier in the day, she is a leader. While there is still that rippling agony inside of her from losing someone important (from Ahsoka losing someone important), she tries to adhere to what she has to do. If Sam can manage it when he has so little training and just a lot of experience, then she will find her strength.]

We'll be quick, I assure you, [she offers to the representatives, eyes passing between their faces to Kun-Kun's.]

[In some precious moment before the explosion had rocked the building, someone had managed to slip close enough to put a knife somewhere delicate - maybe it had been meant for the fighter, but in the dark it'd found the side of his of his representatives: a broader, more barrel-chested man that Adetkunbo himself, standing now with an ashen expression and his hand pressed firmly to his side and blood eking out between his fingers.

There's screaming, a wail of someone in the parlor. The bland emergency lights flicker up. A sharp ks-hzzzzt as the parlor's fire fighting systems kick on. Kun-Kun, short when he isn't standing on some platform or sitting behind an extraspace holoconference table, jerks his arm out from under Lexa's hand. There's something sharp and drawn in his expression, something pitched like reflexive fear or panic. This is different than fighting in a ring is. It takes him a long beat, like hearing sound through water. Then he shakes himself and moves to gather his assistant by the elbow and make their way to the door through the back of the parlor.]

[ Sam always feels naked, when stuff starts getting hairy and he doesn't have the helmet on. It's something he's just going to have to get used to, he knows, because they're supposed to be blending in, and being Nova is about as flashy as it gets. But without the Nova Force to back him up, he's a scrawny kid who doesn't really throw much of a punch, and gets through his fights mostly through pure tenacity.

So tenacity is all he's got to fall back on. He'd better make it good.

He hangs back for a moment - long enough to let the others go ahead, so he can bring up the rear as they slip out. In this much chaos, most people aren't likely to pay much attention to them slipping out, but there's at least one person here who's clearly got a dangerous interest in Kun-Kun, so he watches the crowd as he falls in behind the others, trying to figure out if they're being watched. ]

[Sensing that he is keeping an eye on matters, Lexa opens up the link between her and Sam. She recalls his lack of training, and she now wonders if they might want to begin shortly after this. But it's not the time to discuss such things. Now, she has to be the image of calm, and she's done that steely expression enough times in her life that it comes naturally to her.] ( Watch the door. Bring anything to my attention if you can. I will strike. Better me than you. ) [Lexa doesn't know what his ability is, but she knows that she can burn someone or something if the time calls for it. She is prepared for that.

Once they are outside, it's clear to her that Kun-Kun is no true warrior. He is short, unsteady, and ill-prepared for moments like this. Her eyes pass between him and his representatives, and down the path on each side, ready for any sign that someone might use this meeting to finish the job they set out for.]

You're injured. [If she could show off her abilities, she could cauterize the wound. But she can't. She won't.]

We'll be swift, then, so you can get the care you need. I'll escort you to any vehicle you might have.

[Someone of her stature might not be expected to handle this, but Lexa is still calm, direct, with a harsh gaze and a firm voice. Out of diplomacy and wanting a reply, she doesn't press on yet, knowing it might seem insensitive to just demand something from Kun-Kun and his representatives.]

[Luckily (or not), there's no directed attention from the shambles of the parlor as they make for the door - no last ditch knife trying to find them, no suspicion persons staring at them from across the crumbled gaming parlor floor. It's just fear: that wailing sound, the choked noise of the anti-inflammatory powder hissing out from their ports, the stale tang of chemical aftermath in the air.

There's nothing waiting on the other side of the door either which is lucky for them or simply thoughtless on the part of whoever had planted the bomb. At their urging, Kun-Kun and his reps limp their way through the back door into a long hallway, the emergency light flickering unsteadily. Maybe a moment ago this would've been a slick back hall, track lit and vaguely neon on the way to some VIP gaming rooms and administrative offices. Now it's just a ramshackle hallway with a door at the end of it.]

The motorcade's out back. Come on. [Kun-Kun's firm enough about that, even if he seems distracted by keeping his hand clamped around the wrist of his representative, encouraging the broader man to keep his hand firmly on the wound.] There's a first aid kit there too. I think. Uh--

[His second rep, a middle aged woman with her hair worn long nods:] I'll get the door? [and extends her stride, running in her heels - CLACK CLACK CLACK - to the exit at the end of the hall. The noise is strangely loud, the chaos behind them oddly muffled.]

( Got it. )

[ Sam being Sam, the odds are good that he'd alert her while dive-tackling anyone who comes after them anyway, but they can cross that bridge when they come to it.

He's not sure whether to find it relieving that there's no pursuit, no one waiting on the other side - or suspicious. Planning ahead has never been Sam's forte, but Mrs. Schaefer had been trying to drill the importance of thinking a few moves ahead to him in chess club.

It only halfway stuck when he was in the middle of a fight, but putting the extra thought into a hypothetical scenario was easier. ]

I don't see anybody trying to follow us.

[ Were they that sure they'd finish things right there in the parlor? Or just really that sloppy? ]

[It is strange, she thinks, that there would be no one there. But then, she knows these things can be detonated from afar. Without any knowledge of the actual equipment, she doesn't know if it's possible that that is exactly what happened. And if that's the case, would they be able to trace it? Would the person need to be nearby? Of course, these would be questions better left to Angel, Rhys, or Sam: they would be able to obtain the information. She would just do what she could on her end.

Either way, she recalls the suspicions that Ven Diagrams had been a part of the previous explosions. Lexa still thinks that's exceedingly unlikely: especially given the rise in negative sentiment that followed. It felt staged, like it was meant to be like that. She can't help but wonder how it will be in the days that follow. How will people perceive this, considering Kun-Kun is relatively intact?

But these aren't worries that she can be held down by at this time, so she trails after them, senses alert. She keeps her eyes on the body language of everyone involved, eyes trying to perceive any surprising calm or nervousness. Both would be telling (though the latter would be more or less normal ... unless it's feigned, but then, she doesn't think it will be).]

Are you able to perform first aid? [It seems important to ask. If she needs to take charge once they get there, she will.]

[The bleeding rep gives Sam a sharp sidelong look, pale and briefly alarmed at the prospect that someone could have been following them.] Oh. Great. Glad that's not happening. [--and a small noise of acute discomfort as Kun-Kun shifts his grip on his wrist and encourages a little more pressure on the gently seeping stab wound.]

I mean I know the basics. [There's a muffled sound of falling - debris, probably - falling in the parlor through the door behind them; it makes Kun-Kun flinch absently, has him hurrying his rep along toward where the woman is shoving the door open at the end of the hall.] But I don't know. He probably needs to go to the hospital. Right, Callix?

[The stabbed man grunts. The woman at the door tentatively pushes it open as they near it, sticks her head through the gap and--] We're good. [Shoves it the rest of the way open, holding it there so they can all pass into the early evening air - the bright flash of neighboring neon, the squeal of sirens closing in.]

[ Should it be that surprising? Even if they're not used to danger like this...Kun-Kun's a famous guy. Wouldn't they be used to ducking the paparazzi or something?

There are plenty of reasons he can think of not, of course. Maybe she's new. Maybe they don't need paparazzi here because they can just take creepy personal pictures by hacking into the lampposts or something stupid like that. It could be weird that it surprises her...but it doesn't have to be.

He's last out the door and still looking around when they get out, blinking as his eyes adjust to the light. ]

[Where Sam thinks there should be someone following them, Lexa is left wondering if it's possible that these things don't normally happen in this world. The thought surfaces loudly enough in her mind to transfer to Sam, making it clear that she's noted his suspicions but thinks they need to consider all avenues. She knows that that theory serves her beliefs best here, but she doesn't want to ignore his own concerns.]

Treating it may help once you reach a medical facility. [The words come out awkwardly, like she's a woman who's never been to a medical facility (sans entering the one at the Station and her time on Avera-9).]

But if you'd prefer to wait, I will hold off. [As a warrior, she's more accustomed to handling things before they proceed forward.

Of course, her mind is still telling her to cauterize the wound, so ...]

[They fall out into the narrow, neon striped alley. There are two dark cars parked there in the shadow of the parlor and the woman makes her way quickly to one of them - raps her knuckles on the window and calls for the trunk to be popped. A moment later she's running back, a box held in both hands. Kun-Kun helps Callix to sit.]

We can do a patch job here. It's fine. [He shifts his hand from Callix's wrist, hesitates - glances uneasily to Sam and Lexa - and then starts to sort through the box the woman has balanced on her knees.

Callix, fingers slick with blood, stares at the contents of the first aid kit and then blinks back around to the two of them. He grins, an affable expression in a stress pale face as Kun-Kun and the woman murmur quietly over what's best to patch him up with.] Thanks for the escort.

No problem. I mean...that was kind of messed up.

[ The bomb, the stabbing. The innocent people getting hurt so someone could - kill Kun-Kun? Make a point? Both?

It's not like they don't have an agenda here, yeah, but Sam would've been inclined to help even if they didn't. Because whatever the politics here are about robots, and AI, and whether they count as people, all he's seeing is dead bodies and collateral damage that should never have happened. ]

Are you okay?

Uh-- [The broad man, Callix, laughs a little. Okay? Well kid, he just had a knife in his guts so objectively speaking? Not really. But whatever.] Yeah, I'm okay.

[Next to him, Kun-Kun makes a low noise. He and the woman have evidently come to a few conclusions about the contents of the medical kit. Kun-Kun takes out some kind of gel pack and a paste tube. He says,] Floran, hold his hand.

[The woman takes Callix by the hand without question, the kit still balanced on her knees.] Buck up, big guy.

[Kun-Kun looks to Sam and Lexa then, unscrewing the cap from the tube.] Are you guys all right?

[Removed from the chaos of the parlor and having swallowed something like the immediate panic of the moment, there's something quiet and competent about the fighter. He's still obviously shaken, unquestionably uneasy, but he peels Callix's hand from his side without much hesitation (though he does wince at the ragged shape of the wound).] You came here with other people right? Do you need to go find them?

[Answering his question is one that gives her pause. Sam is undoubtedly privy to the moment in which Lexa recognizes that she'll sound too business-like and not genuine enough. Having that skill is out of her reach, and she scrambles mentally for the right answer, all while observing that Kun-Kun has brought himself together. That'll be important.]

Yes, [she begins.] I believe I'll have some bruises from the attack. ["Some" is an understatement, but she has presented herself as capable. She assumes they can put it together that she's been bruised before.] Though I do worry about our colleagues. We'll see to them soon, but they'll understand why we're here.

[There is a direct purpose to her words as she breezes by sympathy and genuine care to something else.]

We are hoping to prevent ... more of what happened today. We were hoping to get a meeting with Mind Life so that we can work in association with them to ... help. [Lexa cuts herself off before she begins to sound too authoritarian and unlike the warrior-guard she's presented herself as. To some degree, it'll make sense why they are here, but she can't push it. She is able to protect them, after all. Offering an escort makes sense. Speaking as if she's in charge of everyone (as she's naturally trained to do and inclined to do) will only make them suspicious.]

[ Hey, he hangs out with superheroes and space badasses, to be fair. "Are you okay" is less a question about whether you've taken any hits (because the answer is almost always yes) and more along the lines of "are you going to pass out within the next thirty seconds or can you keep it together until we win this one."

You get up and keep moving, because you have to. That's just the way it goes. ]

I'm fine.

[ And that, similarly, doesn't mean "nothing touched me" so much as it means "I'm good to finish this conversation and probably get back to the Bearings before I have to worry about dropping like a rock." He caught a little bit of shrapnel, but nothing as bad as the knife in Callix's side.

...Lexa sounds a little stiff when they're supposed to be doing the concerned thing, huh. But she did get their point across, so he only adds - ]

Before something like this happens again.

[ He's good at sounding genuine, unlike her. Sam tends to wear his heart on his sleeve, and no matter who's fighting for what here, this isn't the way anyone should be fighting it. ]

[Kun-Kun splits a look in Lexa's direction, then in Sam's. There's a small, protracted moment where his expression flattens and the lines of his face tighten by a half degree, and then he drops his attention back to Callix. He jams the end of the tube unceremoniously into the wound (to the small squawk of the larger man, a hiss of pain) and crushes the tube in his hand, emptying the paste into it with a muttered apology.]

I don't know if more press on this is really a good idea. [He dumps the tube and turns his attention to the gel pack. It has some kind of paper backing, but he can't quite get it peeled off. His fingers are trembling.] Who did you say you were with?

[Floran clears her throat gently, her hand firm at Callix's shoulder.] They're part of a think tank. Extraspace scenarios.

[Kun-Kun frowns harder. Stupid goddamn bandage--] What's that got to do with androids?

[The shaking of his hands is apparent ... and sudden. Lexa reaches out, drawing the bandages gingerly from his hands so that he doesn't have to worry about being steady. It's odd, and she wonders what Sam makes of it. But there's no time to discuss mentally. They may have to do it afterward.

There is no pause as she deals with the bandages, eyes dropping to them as she opens them with little difficulty. Her hands are steady, unlike his. It also is a way of informing him that she had noticed, but doesn't feel as if it's a good idea to remark upon it just yet.]

It's a personal interest of ours. We don't like the direction things have taken. And we don't want things to continue to ... worsen. [She hands back the bandages at this point.] We are tired of seeing people lost because they're afraid of the potential of the future.

[ Sam catches the trembling - and, okay, he'd been shaking like a wet dog in a couple of the fights where he'd been way in over his head, so...nerves? Maybe. He'd expect someone who got into fights for a living to be a little less prone to that kind of thing, but then again, these fights are kind of neutered, compared to the kind he's used to. And there's a long gulf between getting into regulated fights versus people setting bombs and coming to kill you, personally.

Because the bomb alone, he might've written off as a slightly more general act of terrorism, but the attempted stabbing makes it look a lot less general. ]

Nobody should get their mind messed with or shut off just because it's convenient for somebody else. It's not right.

[ It's a little less about a broad vision of the future and a little more down to the personal level, for him, but once again, he sounds a little less like a practiced speaker than Lexa does, and a little more like someone who just really has a lot of feelings.

Because he does, really. He'd spent the early span of his time as an Avenger thinking the Vision was a total jackoff, what with the blackmailing thing, but that hadn't been him at all, as it turned out, and that was just wrong. ]

[There's the barest flicker of something like resentment when Lexa takes the bandage from him, but it's minor - there and gone, sensibility overcoming the immediacy of some small, simmering anger. He takes the bandage back once she has the backing peeled from it.] Floran, his shirt.

Oh, right. [She shifts the emergency kit from her knees and helps peel up the edge of Callix's dress shirt. There's more blood here, sticky and bright red, but the wound itself looks mostly stopped up by the earlier paste. Kun-Kun smooths the bandage over it with another hiss of pain from Callix, a grumbled 'You're terrible at this.'

When he's done, his hands are smudged with blood - fingertips bloody. Kun-Kun wipes them on the leg of his athletic pants, some faint tremor still evident.]

I'm friends with Sheena Frey. Not through the organization, just-- friends. I can probably get you into contact with her.

That would help. Friends is the least we can ask for. [Not wanting to project sentiment upon her, Lexa holds back her thoughts that Sheena align with the belief that she would want to put a stop to this. Naturally, there is also the matter of the Flame, and helping this world progress without some of the potential pitfalls of artificial intelligence, but the more violence that occurs, the more likely it will be that they won't meet their objective here.]

We had hoped to meet under better terms. I'm ... sorry for what you faced today. [The trembling of his hands is apparent. They will have to look into that later, and consider it a factor. Yes, it's nervewracking to deal with someone's wound, but she believes it's something else. Still, she knows better than to interrogate him.]

[ That's exactly what they needed. Mission accomplished?

Technically, but that doesn't really mean they're done here. ]

Are you guys gonna be okay to make it to a doctor from here?

[closed] TIME TO HAVE A CHAT

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