EMPTY CHAIRS AT EMPTY TABLES

[onemind]

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 )

Comments

[narcissithstic]

[It doesn't take long. Not because of the overwhelming flood of living, shifting information compressed into such a narrow space (the heat of Sam's fingers locked down over his eyes until all that's left is a tangled map of every breath, every atom, every beating heart framed within the depths of a billion stars, screaming static— ) but instead where it hooks into the thin flesh of his own memories, echoed back with sympathy through Sam's voice. His name. His name. Tears slick the underside of Sam's fingertips as he thrashes in panic, in outrage and something too muddied to possibly name, desperate to rip himself clean of the connection. Please—

Let him be a symbol again. Let him be unfeeling, uncaring, as cold and dead as his forefathers in spite of his own beating heart. He reaches for Snoke, for Cathaway, for Ilde, Hux or the Darkling, chokes out a strangled noise that never clears the base of his throat like something drowning; he can't feel them beyond the barrier of Sam's inhuman mind.

Was this what it felt like?

Hand outstretched, searching for a glimpse of the child he'd left behind, only to know the heat of a saber slipped cruelly between his ribs— to find the unblinking stare of someone else entirely. He can feel it. All of it. Parallels played out in pale seconds. Knees giving in, eyes rolling back as they drift shut, breathing gone shallow and slack. A mercy.]

everyone writes a novel, MEANWHILE .............

[decommission]

[ Caught with Ren's mind, like a snake eating its own tail, he catches the blast without any way to brace himself.

He's staring into the sun, and then the lights go out. ]

[bracchium]

[The Soldier is caught in the flurry of blows, fists hammering into his ribs as he brings his arms down far too late to block. Stupid. A well of frustration bursts from deep in his chest, but he doesn't feel it long. His left arm moves of its own accord, wires like muscle unraveling from him to his horror.

One moment he's pulling his fist back to unleash another punch and in the next, the floor's falling out from under his feet. Colorful tile splinters into a kaleidoscope that sucks him into the vortex. His fractured mind follows suit, dissolving into the maelstrom. The fabric of the universe pushes in through the vacuum, throwing every piece of James Buchanan Barnes into the wild heat of the jet engine. The programming fares little better where its roots dig deep into the fissures of his mind, burning the stems down to the nubs.

He is everything and nothing, a million stars and yet one speck of dust. He can see into the breaks of the thread of reality, but not recognize his blood-specked hand.

The supernova flashes and then disappears, leaving nothing but a gaping, singed, sucking hole behind. And silence. Utter painful silence as tremors sneak up his spine.

Who... where...?

The shakes creep up to his shoulders--- are those his shoulders? Or do they belong to someone else? Is this him? Who is he? Why can't he know? Why can't he remember?

His eyes slake across the floor where he kneels, at the macabre party of bodies twisted like brambles around him. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

His hand jitters at his side and he wasn't aware he had one. He raises it to find the rusty remains of someone spackled there.

Did he---? Did he do this?

Who is he?

Who are they?]

[frakkincylons]

[ it's only a minute or so that sam's out, body limp and mind completely vacant - no dreams, no pulse of thought, only the symbiote rushing to patch his sanity back together and scrub away the tendrils of the beyond, so sam can once again be just sam. no longer vessel, no longer oracle, no longer conduit. awareness comes back to him in a sharp shock, like jolt to the chest, gasping as his mind jerks his body away, sudden assault of sensory input scrambling him for a moment, but the immediate weight of Ren collapsed against him is sobering.

it's like a priority list in his head, an uncharacteristically cylon thing of him, one of the least cylon-like of the five of them, the way he handles the next few minutes.

first: ren. he'd just blasted him with something that makes any walking super computer turn into a rambling, incoherent mess. sitting up sharping, with the man slumped against him and a wetness he already recognizes for what it is against his palm, sam focuses, searching the caverns of his mind, for any signal. a mental pulse. brain activity enough to call undamaged. a relieved sigh shudders out of him once it's found, and he carefully sets him aside, looking sharply over injuries for anything pressingly lethal. sam's aware of barnes not far away, and in a state far from alright, but he isn't the immediate concern. he's at Four on the list.

second: steve. half stumbling, he runs over to where he'd collapsed, careful in turning him over and checking for vitals again. the same routine for brain activity, and looking over the wounds on his face. nothing good, probably a good amount of broken bone, and stitches are in his future, but nothing fatal. no immediate danger.

third: ilde. he'd felt her close, knew she was connected, had willed her to shut off before he'd crack ren's mind open along with his, but he isn't sure she was able. it's easy to find her through the brood link, with the tremor of panic stemming from her, and the distinct sense of ilde that's simply come to be fact in his mind there.

fourth: bucky. he's sorry to have left you on your own to stew in that mess that you're head's in, buddy, but your shattered mind, at least, won't kill you immediately. sam will take time to be mildly disturbed at how easily he was able to coldly process that later, but right now, he has to be the stable one for Barnes. snatching up the arm that he'd taken off bucky earlier, he skids back to a halt to kneel next to the broken soldier, pausing a moment to breathe in front of him, certain Bucky's somewhere far away right now. ]

Hey, you with me, buddy? I know you're confused right now, but it's over, okay? [ Gods, Sam can feel the panic rolling off his mind, and he's trying his best to sink into that perfect calm he's able to harness now and again. Harder, right now, with so much urgency, but it helps that he was just inside that core of nirvana, within his Hybrid mind. Easy to call back the memory of it. ] Three things you need to know - you didn't do this. You helped stop this before it got much worse, you did good. Second, your name is Bucky. Third, I'm a friend, and you're gonna be alright, I just need you to trust me for a little while.

[ Which is asking a lot. Bucky didn't really trust him much to begin with, but Steve's out cold, and Sam can't carry all of them out of this place by himself. He needs Bucky to be present right now. The metal arm is held out between them, low, so Barnes could take it if he wanted to, as Sam explains. ]

You remember this? I helped you get it working a week or so back, you asked me to. I'm just gonna help you get it back on, so you're all in one piece. [ Carefully, cautiously, Sam telegraphs his movements, with hands in Bucky's vision, so he can watch him reach to touch his shoulder, lightly, and start to lock the arm back into place. it's an easy mechanism, snaps right in - easy to put on and easy to take off, like Barnes had wanted. here's hoping he doesn't get strangled for it, but at least he's Cylon, so he's likely to survive is alright. ish. ]

[bracchium]

[The Soldier notices movement out of the corner of his eye as one of the collapsed bodies on the floor sits up. Not dead. One survived. The relief isn't nearly strong enough to wipe away the mounting terror filling up the empty space in his head. Each layer piles on heavier, increasing the bleeding of the raw wound in his mind. He tries to scrabble for the pieces, but they're so burnt to ash that when he tries to scoop up one, the others slip through his fingers.

All the while, the survivor busily checks on the others, busily buzzing about them as The Soldier tries to scoop up his brains. He tunes out the movement, panic washing the pieces of himself farther and farther away. When the survivor speaks, the Soldier doesn't register the sound as a person talking to him, doesn't recognize his proximity as anything directed at him.

Until a hand touches his shoulder. His body--- the programming--- reacts and his right fist surges out, fingers outstretched as they attempt to curl about the survivor's throat.]

[frakkincylons]

[ a-yep, there it is, hand shot to his throat, and Sam at least has his wits about him enough to jerk back, drop the metal arm before it's connected, and grip the wrist that's going for his throat, might fighting might to keep him out of reach. he doesn't freaking have time for this, the concordian authorities and emergency responders are likely on their way now and the can't be here to be implicated by any of this.

it might be easier to just knock barnes out and carry him home, but again - steve, ren and anakin all need to be carried out and he can't take all of them. instead, he's shouting across the mental link to him, since speaking out loud doesn't seem to be registering with him at all. ]

( Steve Rogers, your friend, is hurt and likely getting worse. You need to snap the frak out of it and help me get him to safety, or he's gonna be in a lot of trouble. All of us are. )

[bracchium]

[Bucky turns his head slowly to regard Sam with steely eyes. His fingers clench down tighter despite Sam's release of the metal arm. For a moment, nothing stands between him and executing the survivor, but then words pound into his head, drowning his mental wounds in saltwater. He physically recoils, curling over himself with a scream.]