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Breakout and Beyond: September Plot Log

Who: Everyone
When: September 9th-23rd
Where: Kauto
What: Escape from Dino Jail and taking the fight to the Savrii
Warnings: Probable violence and mental manipulation. Label your content.

the escape

Over the last few days—or weeks, for many—a number of preparations have been made. Some gathered resources. Others fashioned weapons or small bombs. A few pored over the schematics Mother provided, looking for a weakness in the field generator, while others took her offer of assistance more directly. Whether with information or training, tools or trades or promises, everyone has had a part to play. And on September 9, all of that comes to fruition.

It starts at the gate. Through careful observation of the supply groups, one team of insurgents has correctly identified when the gate will open: and prepared their very own dinosaur-mounted EMP. With the controls damaged and the gate locked open, the Savrii guards are met with a host of individuals armed with shock-sticks, home-made bombs, and one improvised laser—many of whom appear oddly immune to the pacifying effect of the intermediary present.

As terrifying as this proves to their morale, it seems possible the Savrii could turn the battle their way. They have superior weaponry. They have a single chokepoint to defend. They can and will call for backup as soon as the danger becomes clear. Still, there's one factor they couldn't have anticipated. One vulnerability of the dome field, pulled from the schematics by the more technically minded captives who spent time on the endeavor. This place wasn't a punishment, after all. The Savrii didn't want to inflict harm. Merely contain these dangerous people, for their own good. And so, the force field has a safety feature built in.

It decreases power, just slightly, in proportion with the biomass that comes in contact.

While the guards at the gate are busy with their fight, a brilliantly colored array of hazards break free from the forest grounds. Perhaps you're riding one of your new friends. Perhaps you're dangling dino-catnip just in front. It's possible, of course, that your dinosaur is motivated without help—possibly by the array of prey animals running in front of it. Regardless of the motives and the methods, when several hundred tons of dinosaur make contact with that wall?

The force field shatters.

Charge.

A World of Peace

The fact (and methods) of the "newcomers'" escape puts an end to any pleas for peaceful resolution. Within the hour, Thisavrou is placed under a state of emergency: transport locked down, all responders called in, and every combat force their peaceful worlds can gather called to defend against this menace. The Ingress Complex itself is sealed off entirely: a full-strength Artifixx force field raised to deflect (or destroy) incoming ships. Not that the storms outside the Ingress—or the cracks they've begun carving in the sky—look easy to navigate for even the best trained of pilots.

While those looking to fulfill their promise to Mother will need to find a way offworld eventually, events on Kauto are likely to keep Thisavrou’s Most Wanted busy for some time. The Savrii are in self-defense mode, ready to protect their world against those who refuse their gift of peace. Whether looking for a fight or trying to find shelter, travelers are most likely to encounter these groups as their hunters:

Security. These Savrii have been taken from their usual work in Ingress Security or similar professions. More like police than soldiers, they are still armed and formidable. Each small squad will almost always be accompanied by a single intermediary, capable of both detecting nearby targets and enforcing the non-violence field on those who did not accept Mother's link. These groups may try to talk characters into surrender and prefer non-lethal force at first. But as the days go by, they are likely to recognize this is futile and be willing to take ruthless measures.
Off-World Kill Teams. Those who traversed the wreckage of the true Midway hub, or participated in the extinction of Thiri have met these Savrii before. The ones who take dangerous away missions and purge worlds that have misused Ingress technology, these groups are versatile and ruthless. While less likely to be accompanied by an intermediary, they are more likely to have powers and advanced weaponry of their own. Regardless, they are specialists in their fields and fully willing to kill innocents for the greater good. Their skillsets range from fighters to hackers to assassins and more.
Civilians. The majority of civilian Savrii are more likely to hide than to fight, but among their number are non-professional fighters who are more than willing to form amateur groups or go out alone to take down the dangerous invaders. Their mindset may center on protecting their homes or taking revenge for past encounters such as the Shadows. While the weakest of the groups, they're still capable of doing damage. However, not all civilians are hostile or afraid; those who had good relationships with their newer neighbors or who were personally aided may show sympathy. This could come in the form of food, supplies, or temporary shelter, though they won't stand directly against the authorities of Thisavrou.

Regardless of whether fugitives are are caught unaware or go out looking for trouble, one thing is certain: they are likely to do better if they work together. While Mother's link isn't the only method with which to fight the intermediaries, groups without at least one immune person may find themselves put down with ease. At the same time, even those who can resist intermediary manipulation may be overwhelmed by force.

Still, death is rarely the end on Thisavrou, and even now, the technology that allows for resurgence remains in your hosts' possession. Those killed fighting the Savrii may be seen again, and there is always the chance to rescue those who are captured. But would the reunions be happy ones?

Points of Interest

Where to go? What to do? Even without leaving Kauto, there's a literal world of possibilities. Still, the conflict at hand won't go away, and some of your peers have been preparing for it for some time. Between Mother's request, your own needs, and data gleaned from a Trojan implanted in the Savrii's systems, a few objectives might present themselves. And whether you're hunting, hiding, or helping, there are a few places you might want to keep in mind.

Home
As soon as characters were unknowingly brought into the Midway Hub simulation, Savrii agents were dispatched to enter homes and search them for any items of potential danger. Mundane possessions will still be there, including pac-discs for those who had them. Settling down for a night at home is likely to get people caught, but now is a great time to pack anything travelers want to keep. However, to find weapons and items taken during the simulation...
Reclamation Depot
Established just one month ago, this unremarkable complex is buried in the maze-like streets of Region Five. Rumors describe it as a research site: somewhere to examine hazardous materials and see how they could be turned to the societal good. You might better know it as an impound center. Specifically, where they put your weapons after throwing you into "detainment".

Fortunately, research efforts haven't gotten far. Less fortunately? This is the first place all those reinforcements go. The facility contains a set of laboratories aboveground and a storage complex underneath, as well as an adjoining kennel for containing pets. Your companions won't have been harmed, but you can bet the Savrii will harm you trying to get to them.
Network Hub
The data recovered from the Trojan indicates one very important fact: that all of your data has been monitored from day one. Those interested in safeguarding their communications (or disrupting the Savrii's) may wish to make a certain site in Region One a priority visit. A towering skyscraper over a hundred stories in height, the communications tower that controls the TAB network is a masterpiece of engineering. It's also, predictably, guarded. Still, the amount of reinforcements on this site will vary strongly depending on how openly—or how literally—you broadcast an attack.
Mediation Centers
Simple buildings designed for a sense of comfort and peace, these structures can be found in all residential centers of Thisavrou. They serve as the workplaces of the intermediaries, the so-called glue that binds Thisavrou together—or, the mind-controlling oligarchs, if your new acquaintance is to be believed.

Under the current crisis? They're a little understaffed. Still, if you're looking for the intermediaries, this is a better place than most to check. Just don't walk inside alone, or your friends might end up looking for you.
Sewers
With so many forces acting against them, where can travelers find shelter where they can rest, regroup and plan? A base of sorts may be found in the sewers where a team once sought the contaminant. With access to much of urban Kauto, enough distance from the surface to go undetected by intermediaries, and a few larger spaces to provide some breathing room, the sewers may not be a pleasant sanctuary, but they may be the place most able to give characters more than a moment's rest.

A Dinoriffic Note: While characters may keep their dinosaurs with them after the breakout, now that their prehistoric pals have reached adulthood at an artificially fast rate, they will find that dinosaurs are also designed to wean off dependence on their handler, and over these weeks, character-dinosaur pairings will grow farther apart. Although the dinosaurs will always have a softer spot for those who were around during their adolescent days, alas, these partnerships are not destined to be permanent.

[OOC: Please check out this OOC post for more information on character options and objectives! Additionally, this is the last chance for free exploration of the current setting, as events will push toward the arc climax after this log. If there is anything you OOCly want your character to have or do, please take advantage!]

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[It is by no means funny. It is torture and horrible and just cementing Maine's place in Church's mind as a grade-A asshole.

... but, since he was quite literally dragged here against his will, he's just going to go ahead and assume Maine is paying. Either that, or he'll be dead and get to skip out on the check anyway.]

I want enough bacon to give me a fucking heart attack. [Is what he says to the server, keeping a grip on the menu just in case she dares try and take away his protective shielding.] Seriously. I don't care what form its in, just give me an entire pig's worth of bacon.

[Because fuck you, Maine, he wants to go out on his own terms.]

[ Haha, oh Church. Who said anything about paying?

[ Fuck. The. Savrii.

[ Maine voices no objections to that order, and the server doesn't try to wrest the menu from Church's grasp. Once she's gone, however? Then it's Maine tugging that menu away.

[ Time to talk, Church. ]

Who?

[ That's with a finger pointed directly at Church's face. Because, aside from the name, Maine's got nothing. ]

[nnnnnOOOPE no. Fuck off. That's his menu, you son of a bitch.

Not that... Church is doing more than making a startled noise and ineffectually grabbing once at it as its pulled away, all before scowling and sinking down a bit in his side of the booth, trying his best not to flinch when Maine decides its time to point and talk.]

Yeah, probably should have figured that out before you fucking kidnapped me.

[Yeahhhhh sorry, Maine. As terrified as Church may be, he's definitely not going to be giving straight, easy answers.]

Church.

[ A name that means nothing to him; he says it with a shrug. It's not an uncommon name, really. And, come to think of it ... does it really matter who this guy is?

[ Maine retracts his finger and rests his chin on folded hands. Brown eyes narrow slightly. This guy's afraid of him. Fucking terrified is more accurate. But Maine doesn't have a goddamn clue who he is. It's future shit. More goddamn future shit. That's what Maine wants to know about.

[ So, he doesn't push for who. Instead, he asks about the future. He asks about the same thing that's been scaring his team: ]

Sigma.

[... Oh. Okay. Well. Maine does know who he is. That's.... that sucks, actually. Because if he knows his name, he might know more shit about him. Shit that he'd rather stay super fucking private considering the fact that at some point down the line Agent Maine becomes the guy who kills him.

Kind of.]

... Okay, yeah. Fine. You got th--

[And then, Maine says Sigma. Maine says the name of that demented little shit that... well. More or less started everything.

Church's jaw snaps shut, his eyes narrow, and he shrugs his shoulders up a little, his posture as defensive as it can be considering he's still slouched down in his side of the booth.]

Sigma. [He swears he can feel heat in his brain just from the memory of his few seconds face to face with that fiery asshole.] You dragged me in here to talk about Sigma?!

[ ... Yeah. Yeah, that's what he thought.

[ Maine watches Church curl in on himself, and his good humor fades. In its place, he looks resigned. Maybe a little tired.

[ But this is what he's here for, isn't it? He needs to know what Church knows. He needs to know what he does. He needs to hear it, from as unbiased a source as possible.

[ The server comes by with coffee, then. Maine's response is delayed; he's dumping all kinds of creamer into his. ]

Sigma. Future shit. Me.

[ Extra words. Unnecessary ones. Signs of agitation bleeding through resignation.

[ He locks his eyes on Church and falls silent again, as he sips his coffee. ]

[It's... weird. Not seeing Maine just flip the table and start beating Church to death with it the second Sigma comes into the conversation. Weird, unsettling, and... actually kind of reassuring.

It's almost like even with Maine using words and not just murdering everyone in the station for no goddamn reason, Church hadn't managed to separate the Freelancer from the beast he becomes. But here, and now, in a diner in what is probably another fucking universe, Church is actually able to say that the asshole in front of him is Agent Maine. Just Agent Maine.

And Freelancers, at least, Church feels like he knows how to deal with.]

Holy shit, you can say more than one word at a time. [It's probably weird to Maine, how quickly Church's demeanor switches. How that fear melts away into genuine agitation. How he's so suddenly able to straighten up in his seat and cross his arms onto the table, narrowing his eyes as he meets Maine's gaze.]

Yeah. Honestly, buddy? You haven't earned shit from me. Go ask one of your asshole cult to explain it.

[ Weird indeed. Maine frowns slightly, not sure what to make of the sudden change. But the lack of fear is actually ... sort of refreshing. ]

Did.

[ North explained it. North explained plenty. So did Wash. But neither of them mentioned Church. That means there's a chance that Church knows more.

[ As for 'earning' the information? Maine gives Church a flat look and gestures to the menu. They're getting breakfast, aren't they? He could just snap Church's joints until he starts talking. As far as Maine's concerned, he's being nice. ]

[Look, Church is still wary. But that wariness is being shelved so he can bask in the fact that, apparently, a Freelancer is being given the Freelancer treatment. One of their fucking own is being left in the dark with stupid, vague answers that are as unhelpful as they are really annoying.]

Let me guess, they gave you enough information so that technically they're answering a question, but it's all completely useless?

[..... okay maybe... he should tone back the giddiness before he pisses Maine off enough to be dangerous again. Especially since it seems the big guy is treating Church to enough bacon to give an entire relay team heart failure.]

Alright, fine. But if you're gonna snap my neck for telling you, at least wait until after I get my food. [He drums his fingers on the table, wishing he had a gun in hand just to have something to keep himself occupied during this bullshit talk.] From what I know, Sigma is an asshole AI fragment who decided he wanted to campaign for the world's worst son of a bitch competition and completely fucking won it.

[... sorry Maine, were you expecting a helpful answer?]

[ More like they gave enough information for him to blame himself for everything that he and Sigma do, but no information on what he actually does.

[ Maine knows that he attacks Wyoming, and he knows that he throws Carolina off a cliff. He knows that he hunts the others down like a fucking animal. That's all. He doesn't know what ultimately happens. He doesn't know what he does, before they stop him.

[ (Because he believes that they stop him. They must.)

[ The giant Freelancer gives Church his full attention. He nods; taps the side of his head. "My A.I." ]

Hostile. [ Which is a real fucking mild way of saying it, and Maine seems to agree. He's quick to add, ] Enemy.

[ Then he clasps his hands and rests his chin on them again. He's hoping that Church isn't speaking literally, but he has to ask: ]

"Won"?

Considering you went around and ripped AI out of people's skulls? Yeah, I'd say that's hostile.

[... oops. That had been a little... bitter and automatic. But hey, whatever. Maine deserved it as much as he... didn't. He still can't quite forget that image. Caboose laying lifeless in the range of a healing unit, mumbling under his breath but otherwise completely fucking out, practically non-responsive. All because whatever this guy became went and ripped an AI out of his already fucked over mind.

Shit. He's getting worked up all over again. On edge because of what the Meta was, because of what the Meta did. Because of where Church was before he'd been brought to this fucked up world.

He picks up a fork, starts trying to spin it in one hand (it's not working out well).]

Wash is here, right? Go ask him for the details. He was the one who dragged me off to go try and fight you. Never actually gave a shit about filling us in on what was really happening.

[ Skulls. Plural.

[ Maine doesn't look angry. He looks shocked. Horrified. Sick.

[ He breaks eye contact. Stares at the fork Church is trying to spin.

[ Not just Carolina, then. Not just Carolina, and not just Wyoming. He got to someone else. North? York?

[ He shakes his head. Can't ask Wash. Wash can't trust him, and for good reason.

[ Fuck. ]

Whose?

[ Whose skulls? Who did he attack? ]

[That... was not the expression Church thought he would see. He was pretty much expecting anger, some sort of animalistic rage, a violent response to the bullshit he'd accidentally flung at him.

Church doesn't actually know what to do in the face of... whatever it is that Maine is outwardly showing. Guilt? Grief? Fuck. Whatever it is, it resonates with something at the back of his head.]

Uh. [He considers shrugging it off for a second. Not answering, leaving Maine in the dark, but that same spot in the back of his head that's responding uncomfortably towards everything Maine is showing right now stops him. Makes him think.

Church presses his lips together and squints down at the fork now hanging limply from his fingers.] Look. Whatever you think you're gonna get out of me, I don't fucking know. I went with Wash because I figured it was a chance for me to find Tex. He didn't really tell us about the Meta until we were fighting it. And even then, he was a cagey son of a bitch about everything.

[...... but.]

What Wash did tell me is that Sigma wanted metastability. So he went and collected every single Freelancer AI. Delta was the last one he needed, other than [ha... fuck.] the Alpha and Epsilon. We picked Delta up, the Meta showed up, threw about twenty fucking cars at us, and took him.

[Church waits a beat, not looking up for Maine's reaction.]

You know, you have real shitty ideas for pancake conversation.

[ All of them. Every single A.I.

[ Carolina. Wyoming. North. York. Texas.

[ His team.

[ Agent Maine says nothing. He listens, noting the transition from "you" to "he" and "it." The Meta. Wash called him that, in that dream of Sigma. Not Maine: the Meta.

[ He doesn't know why. Doesn't see the difference.

[ There's no violent response from Maine. No rage. No denial. Just silence.

[ Complete fucking silence.

[ The food arrives, then. Pancakes to cover half the table. Bacon to cover the remaining half. Maine stares at the food, and he can't imagine eating it. Feels sick at the thought. ]

Did they survive?

[ He's not entirely sure he voiced the question. Doesn't know if Church can even give him an answer. He's not looking at the other man. His eyes are on the food; glazed and unfocused. ]

[Silence is something Church doesn't know how to deal with. Pain, guilt, loss-- it strikes him in an uncomfortable way, has him feeling heavy and tired, just like he was after watching Tex fly away, watching the ship she'd taken off in explode in the distance. Knowing she'd made her choice and was too fucking far away for him to go try and find her.

So, Church sits. He sits in that silence, lets it sit on top of them even if it feels like every passing second is adding a two ton weight to the mess of bullshit on his shoulders. He sits, waits, barely glances up at the waitress as she sets down the plates in front of them, and reaches forward to idly break off a piece of bacon. Just to hear the sound of something breaking.]

No idea. [It's... not a lie. He can guess, with some of the things he'd heard from Delta and Wash, with what little he knew about why Wash took South out like he did. From little stories that come to his mind in Tex's voice, although he can't remember when she would have told him.] You seriously want me to go through a list of dead Freelancers? [Which... is an answer in and of itself.]
That's fucked up, buddy.

[ A list. A fucking list.

[ It is indeed an answer. Too vague to assuage the worst of Maine's suspicions. Just enough to solidify the idea that he kills them.

[ He kills his teammates.

[ Murders them.

[ Maine says nothing. Unconsciously, he ducks his head until his squashed nose rests on his hands, effectively concealing the lower half of his face. His eyes remain distant. Glazed. Unfocused. Broad shoulders curl in slightly — not that it makes much difference. Not that a man the size of Agent Maine could look small.

[ He doesn't appear to be aware of the change in his posture. He doesn't appear to be aware of much of anything.

[ If he wanted to, Church could get up and walk out. It doesn't look like Maine would move to stop him. He's certainly not moving to eat. He's just ... staring at the pancakes. Completely silent.

[ He murders his family.

[ No fucking wonder they call him "it." ]

[Weirdly enough, as tense and awkward as this situation is, it's actually doing fucking wonders for Church's wariness of Maine. Doing wonders for him to be able to separate the muscly asshole in front of him from the monster whose head he died in.

Helps enough that after a moment of that tense, mournful silence, Church is picking up another perfectly crisp piece of bacon, shoving it into his mouth and

CRUNCH

Honestly, he doesn't know what the big guy is so upset over. From what he knows, half the Freelancers were complete assholes. And clearly the psychotic half of them didn't give that much of a shit about

CRUNCH

killing the others and whatever mess went down. And even the arguably sane members -- Agent Washington -- didn't give that much of a shit about putting bullets in people's heads when they were disarmed and bleeding out anyway so

CRUNCH

seriously, what's the big deal? Never mind that this whole thing makes Church agitated as fuck for reasons he doesn't really know. Never mind that even he'd had a moment where he'd felt sick seeing Wyoming fall, that he'd followed Wash in silence for a while after South, some uncomfortable feeling in his chest, despite the fact that Delta had said she needed to die

CRUNCH

which, you know, made sense. And not because Wash had some bullshit theory about him agreeing with Delta because he was part of his brain or some weird crap like that. It just, y'know, made sense

CRRRRRRRUNCH

... huh. Maine still hasn't made a move for his pancakes. Well, if he's not going to...

With a piece of bacon hanging out of his mouth, Church reaches forward with his fork, determined to spear and steal one of those fluffy flapjacks getting cold on Maine's half of the table.]

[ A big hand snaps forward to block the fork, and to try and grab hold of the hand wielding it.

[ Funny thing is, Maine doesn't actually seem to be aware of what he's doing. He's just automatically guarding his pancakes. Keeping someone from fucking with his food.

[ It's only after he's already moved that Maine blinks and appears to drag himself back to reality. ]

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Breakout and Beyond: September Plot Log

the escape

A World of Peace

Points of Interest

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