onemind: (Default)
THE N E S T ([personal profile] onemind) wrote in [community profile] station722016-07-28 09:20 pm

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!))




sizeofyourbaggage: (hmmm)

[personal profile] sizeofyourbaggage 2016-09-05 08:56 pm (UTC)(link)
[ 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.
headinjuries: (i wish i could just hang out in ERs)

[personal profile] headinjuries 2016-09-06 12:06 am (UTC)(link)
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? ]
sizeofyourbaggage: (if you eat that sort of thing)

[personal profile] sizeofyourbaggage 2016-09-06 02:00 am (UTC)(link)
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.
headinjuries: & the girl beside me didn't fill in any bubbles she just wrote in huge letters RETIRE across the whole sheet (i had to do a class evaluation today)

[personal profile] headinjuries 2016-09-06 03:24 am (UTC)(link)
[ 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? ]
sizeofyourbaggage: (it's my resume)

[personal profile] sizeofyourbaggage 2016-09-07 03:45 am (UTC)(link)
[ 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.
headinjuries: did i punch you in the face last night? (what are you doing?)

[personal profile] headinjuries 2016-09-07 04:56 am (UTC)(link)
Whoa. Uh, sorry to share.

[ At least he just cut his hand instead of breaking his leg or something. ]
sizeofyourbaggage: (yeah yeah)

[personal profile] sizeofyourbaggage 2016-09-10 04:28 am (UTC)(link)
Nah, it's cool. Like I said, I haven't figured out how to make it stop yet. I figure I could use all the practice I can get.

[ He eyes the mess of cheese. ]

How about we clean this up and this time I promise not to ask you any of the serious stuff until all of the sharp things are away?
headinjuries: by about 3 inches. of course i'm being safe (bottle rocket just missed my head)

[personal profile] headinjuries 2016-09-10 05:08 am (UTC)(link)
Deal.

[ Sam reaches straight for the nearest dishrag. He's no stranger to cleaning up domestic messes. ]