Who: Everyone
When: July 1 and onward. See this post for info.
Where: Kauto + Chioni + Ingress Complex
Warnings: Potential violence. Please label warn-worthy content in your subject headers.

There's a burst of light in the sky when the Ingress breaks, a final flare followed by a shuddering that only those in the facility can feel. A flurry of panicked activity in the complex follows, ushering new arrivals to where they need to go in a hurry, with little time to give them the needed information, much less answer questions. The lights remain on, but dimmer now, life functions still operating but little else. On Kauto and Chioni below, the sky fades into an early twilight, followed by night, and day does not come again.

nerds save the world

Before the end of the day, all TABs receive an emergency broadcast notification outlining the situation. The speaker, a lead Savriite Ingress technician, does not invite panic but nor does he mince words. The Ingress is broken; their best efforts have failed to restore it. The time has come to turn to anyone who can help: scientists, engineers, those who have worked with advanced technology on any world. Formal qualifications don't matter when it could be the end of everything.

"Help us. Before it is too late."

Those who come will have the run of the complex and full access to the Ingress, as well as whatever tools are available and as much coffee as they can drink. People are encouraged to work in groups and share ideas, and a small number of young and nervous technical assistants will be on hand.

the land below

As Thisavrou is denied light and warmth, the weather becomes brisk and descends into bitter cold. Chioni is evacuated due to the effects on the already-harsh weather cycles there, although a skeleton crew of scientists remain behind. On Kauto, the arboreal Region Three and pastoral Region Two suffer the most from the temperatures and the snow that eventually begins to fall. Many crops are frozen over, and refugee citizens are driven from their homes to the Regions One and Five, where stored energy will keep dwellings warm. Save for those who choose to leave the underwater facilities, Region Four remains largely unchanged, but there are unverified accounts of strange aquatic animal behavior near the surface.

Overcrowding, limited supplies and a pervasive fear presents the opportunity for both heroism and foul deeds. Many come together to share resources, supplies and fellowship in what could be the end of worlds, while others take what they can from the unwilling or exploit the desperate. Sentient evacuees are followed by fauna from Region Three and unsettled lands beyond, in search of warmth or food or merely confused by the change in habitat. Some are unthreatening herbivores, while tanglesnakes and clownbees are more troublesome. Others are poisonous hunters, while still others are small, but dangerous when faced as a pack.

Just when all seems lost, light returns to the sky. The Ingress begins to function once more.

the coming days

As the temperatures rise, many demand answers, but most turn to the rebuilding of their lives first. Damage has been done that isn't so easily fixed, and even in the least-affected areas, remnants of the crisis show in the lack of fresh food, in the increased signs of criminal activity. Those who can help others through their own efforts of by organizing assistance are needed, but those with impure intentions are more likely to go unnoticed.

Eavesdropping on the streets may reveal a desire for vengeance. "Those intruders from last week. They're responsible for this, aren't they? What's being done?" But don't listen too closely, or a suspicious eye may be turned on you. "Aren't you one of the refugees from the Midway Hub? You should return to where you came from! All the trouble began when your people showed up!"

Life goes on. But life does not go on unchanged.

[quick ooc note: the Region 4 search & retrieval mission/RNG fight will be posted in a separate log.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[And yet, I couldn't stop laughing.]

Inform them, if you would, that they did a poor job of it. The real you was far more irritating.

[They would take that exasperated self-righteousness over this, this thing shilling intermediary propaganda. At least that was familiar. At least that was something one such as they could understand; frustration, and hatred for the thing that was singlehandedly to blame for everything that would follow.

For Shepard. For this.]

The real me.

[He laughs, once, bitterly, and his head rolls back against the wall. Even now it's cold, and empty, and the air is thick with fear and desperation. And none of it needed to happen at all. That's what you call hubris, he supposes.]

You mean the person I was when I turned off the sun. Forgive me if I don't want to be him anymore.

[Everyone's laughing! It's hilarious, isn't it? It's the very pinnacle of humor! Are they contemplating a double suicide?

Their LOVE ends in hell.]

There is no escaping what we are. [A hand to their chest, to the rotted sickness lying heavy in their SOUL. Decomposing, no doubt, from the inside out. Fingertips fisting at the fabric of their sweater, balling it up beneath their palm.]

Do you truly believe Shepard is better off the way she is now?

[He lolls back to look at Chara for a long moment. Again, that small spark of doubt scratches at him. He knows he'd just been wrong about Shepard, and yet. And yet--

What was it Cole had said?

There is no blood, no bruises, not battered, but still broken apart. She is trying to hold onto so many pieces.

He had wondered for so long what that had meant, it nearly drove him mad, and then--somehow--he had just forgotten about it. They'd told him he was wrong to ask.

But here it is again, resurfacing, like something he'd only dreamed about. Why had he been so worried before?

What was Chara trying to say to him now?]

What do you mean? What way is she?

[Has he forgotten already?

Has he forgotten, or has he simply not encountered her since his release, and hers? Will the pair of them crossing paths generate anything more than the equivalent of two fax machines spitting streams of predetermined data, incapable of acknowledging or admitting to that which has ripped them asunder, damaged them at their very CORE?

Everything he did, he did for her. He did for her sake.

How quickly he forgets.

Their jaw sets, eyes narrowing in as much disgust as they can possibly bring to bear.]

Why not see for yourself?

[Something rattles up through his spine, a weird, sick sensation that isn't quite fear. Apprehension, maybe. He has a sudden sense that he's treading the line of something dangerous, something that he can't undo if he continues forward.

There is comfort in ignorance, and for a moment he considers staying in it. But he's never been able to do that. It's what will eventually kill him, he figures.

Whatever this is, this trap he's about to spring, he can't just walk away from. It will eat at him forever if he does.

It doesn't have to be what he thinks it is. He just wants the truth. Maybe Chara is wrong. Maybe they're all wrong.]

Where is she now?

Her apartment, no doubt.

[Let him see the fruits of his labor, as Chara did. Let him see what it is his efforts have reaped, as Chara has. Let him witness, first hand, what it is the intermediaries are capable of helping, the manifold good they do by ripping into someone's mind and opening it like rotting fruit.

The urge to reach beneath their shirtsleeves, scratch and scratch until it's all gone, claws at them, but not while he's here.

They're not about to let him witness that again.]

You will have to try her several times, I imagine; it seems reprogramming her to be social was not high on the list of priorities for her caretakers.

[Her apartment. All right. That's where he needs to go. He has a direction now. A goal.]

Thank you, Chara.

[Mindlessly, he begins to gather up the seeds he'd placed on the ground, in the process of his makeshift bandage. It seems a waste to just leave them there, even though he's forgotten any use he had for them. His own garden will be dead now, and he has more important things to worry about than his own silly indulgences.

Maybe that's why he says the most inane thing of the whole conversation so far.]

Do you want these?

[...he would not know. Would he? Or has that, too, been relegated to common knowledge? A child's life and death spoken in whispered undertone across the Underground, their every error and personality flaw seeded into a set of tapes uncovered by a nosy Royal Scientist with sticky fingers.

And he knows full well what it is you did, you dirty brother killer. He must know, because he knows everything that you sought to keep hidden, because nothing is safe from him.

Is Lavellan, here, the same way?

He must be.

The temptation pulls at their fingertips. Difficult to shunt aside; their LOVE is to blame for that.

But they lift their chin, imperious.]

Why would I want your garbage?

[Lavellan just nods at them, absently, like he hadn't expected anything else. He puts the seeds loose into a pocket, and leaves the pouch with Chara. It's sticky with their blood at this point, and they can use it or throw it away as they please.

He doesn't know what he'll do with the seeds, either, but they at least shouldn't be thrown away. There's some good to them yet. He just needs to find someone who can bring it out.]

Do you want to come with me?

[He means to Shepard's. That's where he's going, right now. It's not a request or an offer; just a question. He won't insist either way. He's done with you shoulds. Chara can do what they want.]

[He's trying. That much is obvious. He's attempting to be peaceable, to be better than he was. Does any of that matter, in the end, when it's manufactured emotion? When it hardly counts as him really saying it?

The disconnect is impossible to ignore.]

Do as you like, sir; I daresay she's had her fill of me already.

[He nods again. That's fine. Alone or not, it doesn't make much difference; he knows where he's going just the same.

He straightens back up a final time, dusts himself off. Makes sure not to touch or even really look at Chara. Turns to leave.]

If there's anything you need from me, let me know. And please go to a doctor for that.

[He means their arms.]

[At least to that, they can laugh, readily and easily.]

There is nothing of note a doctor could possibly do for me, I assure you.

[And there's no knowing if any doctor they would approach would be - would not be subject to the same guidelines as an intermediary. They're far from willing to trust that.

Perhaps, if he were still here -

There is no use in entertaining a hypothetical notion.]

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nerds save the world

the land below

the coming days

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