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

Uh-huh.

[ The hieght of his eyebrows is a direct correlation to how impressed he is with that answer. Habit, man, come on. But he quirks a little smile, shrugging one shoulder back. ]

Look, I'm not saying you gotta spill your life story to me or anything. But you don't gotta lie like you're fine if you're not, you know. I'm not gonna judge you. Hell, I'm not fine, and I wasn't even there.

[ Isn't people judging each other half of what life is made of? Or is that just high school?

Though, to be fair, it's not only avoiding judgment that keeps him bottling things up. It's also the part where his life has gotten into the kind of weirdness that he's only halfway sure how to even start explaining, and doesn't expect most people to get even if he did. (Although other superheroes would probably come closer to the weird parts, even if not the normal parts that just muck up the weird parts.)

But then again, here, he doesn't really have to explain the same way he would anywhere else, does he? ]

It's...

[ Sam's not good at keeping his feelings from bleeding all over the broodlink, but maybe that's helpful, because he's not really sure how to phrase "all this stuff struck uncomfortably close to bad stuff that happened not even a month ago and I was just starting to maybe get enough emotional distance from it to stop thinking about it all the time, but that just went straight out the window."

Instead, he finally settles on: ]

It just reminded me of stuff.

[ It's not the first time that Sam’s felt the flood of emotions through the broodlink. But it's different than it’d been with Barnes, who'd very obviously been fighting against it.

And hell, Sam knows that feeling real damn well, has had it more than once. It hasn't been all that long since he was chasing after Rhodey, fast and desperate, with the remnants of Riley in his head. He doesn't let the images surface, but he doesn't stop the feeling from bleeding out a little, a dimmer echo of what the kid in front of him is putting off. ]

Tell me about it. I learned the hard way that just because it's not on your mind every day doesn't mean it ain't still lurking there, just waiting to lunge back up.

[ There's a pause as he considers, before venturing; ]

Who'd you lose?

[ Oh, boy.

There's really no way to give the short answer to that question and have it make much sense. Sam winces. ]

Okay, I kinda have to back up a little before I get to the who, because it gets...complicated. And it's gonna sound pretty crazy.

[ He's pretty sure his mother watches soap operas that are less ridiculous than where his life has gone in the last few months. ]

So...my dad disappeared a while back. Into space, because as it turns out, all his stories about being a space cop before I was born actually weren't BS that he made up to feel better about being a loser? And there was this Chitauri fleet parked around Jupiter, and he went after them and didn't come back, and long story short, I wound up finishing up for him. And as long as I had the cool space powers anyway, I've been trying to find him ever since.

[ And most of that, he could skip too, he figured, even if a lot of it played into why everything sucked so hard - that he'd hit that kind of a setback after putting so much time into it, following the trail so far, and thinking he'd done it only to have it all wiped away. ]

It took a while, but I thought I found him. We went home. Everything was really good for a few weeks.

[ Better than it ever had been, really, because it hadn't been until his father disappeared that Sam realized that things shouldn't be so bad between them. ]

So then - it turns out I didn't save him. They cloned him. And another one showed up to kill us both, because the first one decided he liked being my dad more than reporting back to Warbringer, and after we handled that, then he tracked down the ship where they had the rest of them, except my dad still wasn't there, and then when I caught up to him he said none of them should exist and he blew the entire ship up.

[ The further into the story he got, the faster the words kept spilling out, and by the end he wasn't sure if he was talking too fast to even be understandable anymore, but he hadn't really unloaded on anyone since...probably not since before the Watcher died. Once the floodgates were open, there was no putting it all back in the can. ]

[ Man, there ain't nothing like being a superhero that turns rough shit like 'I lost my dad' into an even worse mess of clones and aliens and supervillains. He'd say he missed the days when he dealt with more routine issues, but, well. In his opinion, the shit the vets he used to work with had been through isn't something that should ever be considered just routine.

Still, if there's one thing Sam's pretty damn good at, it's listening, even if it's a hell of a lot of messed up coming at him all at once. He's quiet until the kid finishes, and then he lets out a slow, steady exhale. ]

I appreciate you sharing that with me, man. Takes a lot of guts to let loose like that.

[ And he's not being sarcastic there - it does, Sam sure as hell believes that. ]

How long ago was that?

[ There are plenty of daddy issues that the short version skims right over, but there's only so much sharing Sam feels up to in one go, even if there's not really much keeping secrets here. ]

The ship blowing up was in the last week before I got here, so... [ How long ago did he get here...two weeks? Ish? ] I guess that'd put it not quite a month ago?

[ Sam's eyebrows shoot up a little. ]

Man, you know what I did when my dad died? I ran off and joined the military, took me over a year to even think about talking to anyone about it.

[ He gives Sam the smallest bit of a smile. ]

You're a lot smarter than me.

Well, I was getting set to skip the planet and not come back until I found him for real, so I dunno about that part.

[ That, he'd known, would've probably gotten him expelled for real, if he vanished and missed that much more school, and this time there'd be no convincing them to let him back in...but as much as he didn't want to be a dropout with a dead-end job like his dad, he wanted his dad back a lot more.

The only time he'd started to have a functional relationship with him, it hadn't even really been him, and knowing that stung just as much as losing him again had. ]

[ He can't help but give a low, dry chuckle. That sounds like something he would've done when he was a teenager. Hell, it was just a few years ago that he essentially skipped out on his own life to try to find his best friend's best friend. ]

That how you ended up here?

[ Seems like everybody's got some reason, or at least had been in some kind of trouble before they found themselves here. ]

Yeah. I was gonna swing by Knowhere and see if I could get any leads, but on the way I ran into...something. That Enemy they talked about, I guess.

[ He's not really sure how to describe them. Granted, it's a big galaxy and there's plenty he hasn't seen yet, but they felt...wrong, like they didn't belong there. ]

Sounds familiar. Ran into... whatever the hell it is in Wakanda. But we're both in one piece, so guess I'm grateful they reached out.

[ Not that Sam doesn't have his doubts, sometimes - a lot of the time - but now's not the time to go into that, not right after the explosion and losing one of their own.

He thinks about trying to get the kid to open up a little more, convince him that talking doesn't have to be a bad thing and Sam's always happy to listen if he needs it.

But he doesn't wanna push it, and even if he does want to put the offer on the table, he figures it might go down better with some food. ]

Come on, why don't we move this to the kitchen? I'll even take requests, if you help me with some of the prep.

[ Sam doesn't - light up, exactly, but there's definitely a little more perk in the way he looks up when he hears kitchen. ]

Sure, sounds good.

[ He's not quite sure when the last time he ate was, which probably means it's time to do something about that. ]

[ Score. Sam's not gonna say it out loud, but there’s a definite hint of contentment that Sam'd taken him up on it.

He'd do something potentially dumb like setting a hand on the kid's shoulder before they started walking, but he's not sure if Sam had actually meant he'd just gotten scratches or if he was just being tough. And he doesn't need his symbiote ability kicking in without him wanting it to.

So instead he just nods and starts toward the kitchen. ]

You in the mood for anything in particular?

Most of the stuff I really want, I don't think is happening here. Like, have you found a good hot sauce since we got here? Because I've been looking and everything I find sucks.

[ Sam has very strong opinions about hot sauce. ]

[ He can't help but chuckle, shaking his head. ]

I'm not touching any condiments here, man, none of them taste right. I'm lucky I managed to find a couple of spices that aren't too bad, and you don't even wanna know how much trial and error that took. I'm sticking to simple, least I can manage a pretty good tomato or garlic and butter sauce.

I would seriously punch somebody in the face for a good breakfast burrito. Maybe like. Five people.

[ Depending on who they were. He'd punch some of the guys from school many, many times, even. ]

Whatever you can make that's pretty close to normal would be cool?

'Willing to punch people for decent food,' I'll remember that.

[ He's teasing, shooting the kid a little grin, but also honestly, Sam doesn't blame him. MREs have gotten better in recent years, but Sam still remembers days back in the air force when he'd have punched someone for a good steak. ]

Tomato sauce is probably your best bet there, so - spaghetti or pizza?

[ Sam immediately brightens a little, because...stuff he loves but doesn't really know how to make?

Aw yeah. ]

Pizza. Definitely pizza.

Pizza it is. Here, you can be on cheese grating duty.

[ He passes over a grater and a block of cheese while he gets to work on mixing up the dough. For a little bit he's quiet, just pleased that he got Sam to brighten up a little, but he can't help but take the opportunity to bring it back to their previous conversation. ]

What's your dad like?

[ He stops mid-grate for a moment, because...oh, boy. That'd be a heavy question even without all of the space clone drama.

Sam hates lying, though. He's been doing more of it than he can keep track of since he started living a double life and it's exhausting and he's sick of not being able to be open about anything. (And given how he's started getting weird feelings when other people lie, now, he's not particularly eager to see if the same happens when he does it himself.) ]

He's a drunk who never finished high school and if I didn't keep covering for him, there's no way he'd still have a job.

[ Bluntness: only one of Sam's many talents. You'd almost wonder why Sam wants him back, when he puts it that way, except - ]

...but even if he really sucks at parenting, he loves us. Like, enough to give up being able to fly to the other end of the galaxy whenever he felt like it loves us.

[ He finally stops just staring at the cheese and gets to work on it again as he continues. ]

I always thought he made up all the space stuff because he couldn't handle being a loser or something, but I was wrong. And I was resenting him for like ever because I thought he was full of it, and I didn't know it until he was gone and I can't even tell him that I -

[ The more he talks, the more he works himself up - talking louder and faster, grating the cheese a little more violently, until he cuts off with a yelp and drops what he's doing to stick his finger in his mouth.

Smooth move, Sam. ]

[ Sam'd started out mixing the dough as he listens, throwing flour down on the counter and focusing on that to give the kid his space. But the more riled up Sam gets talking about his dad, the more his attention leaves the dough, until he's pretty much just watching Sam.

There's a little wince when Sam cuts himself on the grater, a soft, sympathetic hiss. He reaches out without thinking about it, setting a hand on the kid's shoulder. It’s what he would have done before, only now it has the added benefit of healing the kid up - even if Sam had forgotten about that until he feels the dull sting of a new injury transferring from the kid to himself.

But he ignores it, giving Sam's shoulder a gentle squeeze. ]

I appreciate you sharing with me, Sam. But hey, man, if I ask something you don't want to talk about, you don't gotta answer. I'm not gonna push if you tell me to back off.

Thanks. I mean, it's cool, though, I...I guess I haven't really unloaded in a while.

[ Probably an understatement. He hasn't done much talking about anything since the Watcher died; there just hasn't been anyone else he feels okay dumping everything on.

Getting it out in the air, though...it feels better than he thought it would.

He glances down to his hand, and blinks. Wasn't he bleeding? ]

Yeah, I know how that feels. But it helps sometimes, you know? You ever need to, any time, I'm a pretty good listener.

[ And usually it comes without any cheese grater accidents. He catches Sam looking down at his hand, and makes a little face as he pulls his hand from the kid's shoulder. ]

That, uh, that was me. Courtesy of the symbiote, apparently, haven't figured out how to stop it from happening yet.

[ Well, he feels a little bad about passing along his moment of klutziness, but it is a welcome change of subject from Reasons Life Sucks, Volume 14. ]

What happens on your end?

[ There has to be a downside, otherwise why figure out how to stop it? ]

[ All right, all right, Sam'll go with the subject change. He did promise not to push, and he'll keep that.

For now.

Instead he holds up his hand, wiggling his fingers a little to show a replica of the cut that'd been on Sam's hand a minute ago, though his isn't bleeding. ]

Least they heal up a little faster than anything I just get by myself.

EMPTY CHAIRS AT EMPTY TABLES

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