Chapter 5

[thenine]

Who: OTA
Where: Quad
When: Week IX, Day II - Week XI, Day III
Summary: Chapter 5 prompts!
Restrictions/Warnings: Violence, blood, et cetera. For anything surpassing 'R' on a rating scale, please create your own log.
Notes: Please title your subject line in the following format -- Open / Closed | Date. OOC event information can be found here, calendar information/dates can be found here, warrant page is here, and Hyperion missions, here.

Quick Navigation
The Nine
The Company
Westies
Leith
Resistance
The RAC

The Nine: Superficial Alliance

On the surface, a nice space pleasure cruise is all it took to unify the Nine once more. Whether it be bowing to the Kendry show of power, or biding their time, the other families of Qresh have fallen in tow with the pervasive hard-line approach that has come to characterize their interaction with the citizens of the Quad. Citing the disorder on Westerley and the disrupted peace on Leith, the mantra of the Nine is restore peace to benefit all. A unified front for the sake of everyone under their rule. At least, on the surface. Land Hyponia has not lost their favor for the common man, though distinguishing citizen from Resistance from gang is nigh impossible from such a lofty position. Unable to touch base with the society they seek to protect, the family will put out warrants (by proxy) for RAC agents to discern how much honest Resistance remains on Westerley, and the intent and ability of such forces. They will also reach out to those in other houses who may have indicated a desire to help over the past months. Contact will be brief, subtle, and secret, but the mobility that others of Qreshi society enjoy is something Land Hyponia covets, and they will pay whatever they can for aid, even if that comes only in the form of information. Lastly, an anonymous network post, made by the Hyponia leader through several proxies, will appear on the network, asking all who can contribute for a 'state of the Quad' from their own eyes. Hacker and info broker characters may discern that this post comes from Qresh, but may not trace it back to Hyponia directly.

The Company: Shifting Focus

With the concern of food shortages on Leith rising, scorched fields and wealth slipping between the cracks in reappropriation, the Company has shifted its attention to the quieter moon. To the dismay of many Leithans, Company officials - mainly those born on Leith - begin to arrive by the shipful, armed and ordered to maintain the peace as tensions rise. WIth them comes a Company organized food distribution plan, a task which many Enforcers can expect to be given. They must both collect supplies or funds from more well off Leithans, and distribute these resources from a main hub to organizations in need. Of course, some families will be less than happy to oblige, requiring verbal diplomacy some more accustomed to Westerley may struggle with. Additionally, there is the thread of raids taking place upon those laden with supplies, carried out both by the growing Resistance cells or agitated Leithans alike. Alongside the Company's humanitarian efforts, an order has been given to all assigned to the moon: stamp out any Resistance with utter efficiency. No need to arrest, simply kill and file a report. Stark as this change may be for the citizens of Leith, the Company does not wish to sour their relationship too much, as many of the more prominent families of Leith trace their ancestry back to those in the Nine. Violence should be non-public, if possible, and mere suspicion is not currently enough to justify an act of coercion. Save for the rare exception, those Company employees bred from Westerley will be left to monitor the situation at 'home', disconnected from their units or typical tasks, if necessary, to ensure their station on the moon. Others may be assigned to space, as all Scarback movement will become increasingly restricted, with their ships traveling or lingering in the Quad subject to search and seizure operations. In the face of such disruption, only those in the upper echelons of the Company are privy to the whole story, and even then it is only through inferences that such an end can be reached. The Company is looking to abandon Westerley, its society too broken and crumbling to be repaired in the state it's in. Now begins not a reallocation of forces, but an exit strategy, leaving only who they must behind as they review resources and examine options for a purge of the filth that has overtaken Westerley. To many, the best option is major carpet bombing, as has been utilized by the Company in the none-too-distant past at Sugar Point, but there have been no official decisions. Yet. Characters who will have direct access to data regarding the above directive: Rhys, Sion, Jack, Ango, Sui Feng Characters who may have some access to data regarding the above directive via hacking or info-brokering: Lapis, Angel, Kara, Badou, Noiz, Annabeth

Westies: Calming Storms

Change still boils on Westerley - though to the undiscerning eye, it seems to have cooled to a simmer. After the violence, rioting, and the prevalence of gangs in weeks past, it seems Westerley is finally getting it out of her system. Life is returning to normal, at least by Westerlyn standards. You're still likely to hear of people being killed in the streets, whether it's because of a deal gone bad or the Company exerting its force, but that's normal. Westerley is returning to its own version of calm, since with the situation growing worse on Leith, it seems that the Company is focusing their efforts there. However, there are stirrings that it may be more than just that. There are rumors that people important to the Company are being pulled off of Westerley entirely, and indeed, you're likely to notice far less of a Company presence as you wander the streets of Old Town. It's a fact that's met with mixed reception. On one hand, the resolution to violence comes partially in response to the decreased presence. No longer fearing for the repercussions of what the Company might do, gangs and other seedy organizations don't feel quite so threatened, and they don't need to enact a continual show of force to exert their rule. For any of the opportunists of Westerley, this vacuum presents an extraordinary chance. If you're looking to find a spot in the seedier organizations of the Quad, now is the time, since they're looking to bolster their numbers. If you have skill, then you're likely to be offered a position that might be a little more lucrative than simply scavenging around between odd jobs. You just have to be willing to look the other way when things get nasty. However, for the people with more legitimate business interests, it signals something different. What if the Company is losing its interest in Westerley? Westerley was once important to the life of the Quad, but as it's stripped of resources more and more, maybe this signals something to the effect that the Company's need of Westerley is waning. If the moon is no longer profitable, then the Company has no interest in it at all, and the Company is nothing if not thorough in taking every ounce of profit they can from their investments. But once they have, what's left is as good as trash. If you're a more concerned citizen, it might be a good idea to try and get your papers together, just in case. If the Company leaves Westerley entirely, then the whole moon is likely to become no better than Eulogy. Company inattention isn't the only matter for concern or profit, of course. As the breadbasket of the Quad--Leith--is crippled with civil strife and sees their own citizens go hungry, the impacts are felt across Westerley threefold. Those who rely on Company rations for sustenance are cut off with little warning while those who normally source their own food fare little better. Prices skyrocket, in part due to limited resources and increased demand, and in part thanks to the mercantile spirit of the locals. But that's not to say that the softer-hearted don't respond and mobilize in their own way. While the people of Leith are unfamiliar with such dire struggles, Westies have long endured periods of chaos and unrest, and many within the community have built emergency stocks for just such an occasion. Perhaps you're among those dooms-day prepping citizens, or perhaps you're fortunate enough to have an in and siphon the resources of your neighbor--but if you're not among either of those groups, your options will swiftly narrow. Supposedly, crime doesn't pay--but when times are tough and measures are desperate? It can, at least, eat.

Leith: Society Declining

Leith is no longer the quiet, idyllic place it used to be. Between the disease that ravaged the planet and the uprisings after, Leith has been struggling far more than it’s used to. Perhaps that’s part of the reason the effects of tragedy are felt so acutely. The people of Leith have always enjoyed a relatively quiet, comfortable lifestyle compared to the unruly chaos of Westerley or the vicious politics of Qresh. Yet as the food supply sustaining the moon starts to dip lower than it should, Leith starts to share more in common with Westerley than Qresh. If you’re not someone of means, then you’ll find food both more expensive and in much shorter supply than you’re used to. And for the lowest classes of Leith, you may go hungry entirely. This kind of strife isn’t unprecedented for Leith, but it’s been a long time since they’ve ever struggled so. That’s why the Company is here, at least on paper. As the situation on Leith grows more tense, many Enforcers that are usually stationed on Westerley are likely to find themselves on Leith instead. It’s not quite as vicious or violent of crime as they may be used to, but the less food there is, the more that changes. The Bazaar was once a place for peaceful trading on lazy afternoons, but now the tension around food stalls is especially thick. If you’re a merchant, you have to balance the scales quite delicately. Some take the opportunity to sell to the rich and make a hefty profit, but others decide to keep their prices the same, maybe even lowering them, at the risk of going hungry themselves. It’s easy for violent fights to break out over something as simple as grain, and as stores grow lower, it’s becoming more common to see someone badly injured over it. If you’re in the higher society of Leith, you probably don’t have to worry, though. This is exactly why you have your influence and fortune, and while the well-off of Leith generally know better than to flaunt that, very little changes other than being a little more protective of just who comes onto their property. The desperate are looking to scavenge what they can, so the greedier landowners are likely to make sure their crops are protected. Side work to protect land has become quite popular as a result, so if you’re looking for some extra work and don’t mind camping, then there’s a Leithian happy to hire you. Just be careful as you camp out in the remote forests of Leithian land. Rumor has it that there are Resistance groups residing hidden in those woods, and they’ll very viciously defend the gatherings they’ve kept clandestine. Of course, if you’re more generous, you can always share and give what you have. While humanitarian efforts continue to decrease as everyone’s purse-strings tighten, they’re not gone completely. Philanthropic efforts to feed the hungry are still in vogue, so if you’re of a good heart or simply a politically shrewd one, there’s no better time to give back. Just be careful how your altruism is presented. It doesn’t take much for the grateful to instead decide that the offer is just condescending.

Resistance: Concerted Efforts

Now that the teams have had time to acclimate to working with one another, it's time to set deeper laid plans in motion. Thus far, all of the tasks and missions provided to the individual cells have seemed, in large part, to not be related - at least, probably not from the view within said cells. For the one(s) pulling the strings from the shadows, however, there has always been a method to this madness. Materials and supplies purloined by the individual groups and turned over to their benefactor have been broken down to the basest components, sectioned off, and set aside for each of the four teams with the utmost thought and care. Nearly everything needed to complete this next wave of tasks will be provided, though some may need to use their creative genius to acquire additional, outside resources - be they additional parts and supplies, or humans with the know-how to help them finish the task. The methods and means with which each team reaches their respective goal is entirely up to them - as well as how they dispose of any witnesses (NPCs) or silence them (PCs). The situation may seem bleak for the PCs involved, but there are chances to fight back. From resisting the cell's requests to tinkering with the machinery, those with more technical skills may be able to gain something from their unfortunate fate. As made obvious by their kidnapping, the cells holding them hostage do not possess the skills to build, much less monitor or examine, the required components. Planting a tracking device, a data mining program, or any other such implement that does not transfer control is feasible for those with the know-how. Better installed systems might go unnoticed, but even the more shoddy of attempts may be accepted by Hyperion, should they seem useful. Unlike previous missions... this one has a specific time-table, and each team is building vital components to the most lethal of weapons, and Hyperion will not suffer negligence on their part with kindness. This month's tasks come with a warning, at least: ramifications of a failed mission will result in an immediate, and individualized, reprimand. It's important to note, as well, that while the cells were formed independently in order to protect their anonymity... they were never actually forbidden from reaching out to others within their covert world. If members of one cell can make contact with another, well. It may just provide them the opportunity to begin to piece together just what end-game Hyperion is really playing at.

The RAC: Double Blind

The higher-ups within the organization were dismayed that they have no new Level 5's to show for their efforts, and are concerned that this shows a declining loyalty to their purpose. Expect that each mission will be given a thorough review by Internal Affairs once completed, even as that same department quietly begins to asses the individual agents. Now is the time for them to turn their focus in, once more, to see which of their field agents have begun to exhibit a faltering neutrality. An especially important task, given that the RAC's own neutrality has been questioned more and more as of late. Between the increased presence of Killjoys in support of Company missions and their increased demand to bolster Qreshi personal security, it seems they've been slowly commandeered by the whims of the Nine. And this does not necessarily sit well with many of the agents in the fields, or the sources of warrants that normally come from outside the Quad. In order to curtail this growing dissent both within the organization and throughout their client-base, they've begun fielding their warrant to display a more balanced pool of jobs. Even if, in doing so, they suspect that they are playing both sides of an impending war. Because while some agents are set to guard Scarbacks in the face of growing censure, others are set to either help Land Hyponia's attempts at subverting Land Kendry's growing rule or protect the scions of the most formidable houses - and still others are given tasks that further the cause lead by that nebulous entity called 'Hyperion', though this last they cannot confirm with confidence. The warrant is all.

Comments

Hannibal Lecter - Leith - OTA (mostly)

[sating]

i. a private affair (semi-ota)

[ Dr. Lecter has always been well known for his dinner parties, and though they're infrequent and seemingly almost random, they're always the talk of high society. Though many Qreshi and Leithians alike prefer to have their food cooked for them, Hannibal's primary hobby is cooking and throwing lavish dinner parties to go with them. They're exclusive, being invite-only for his closest friends and associates, and so the chance to have a seat at his table is a rare treat. And today, the cost is only a (rather substantial) donation to a benefit fund for hunger relief for the Quad.

Though naturally, that's exactly why he's so tickled to throw it at all.

If you have a seat at the table, you'll be treated to a decadent meal with perfect hokk pairings for each course, since Dr. Lecter has excellent taste. The table is laid out in a beautiful display of fine food, and Hannibal stands once everyone is settled to raise his own glass with an easy smile. ]

Thank you for joining me this evening. It's because of your generous donations that we can be here tonight. These donations will go to benefit the hungry, and of course, there is little better way to raise money for it than to sate our own hunger.

[ His smile twists wryly at the last part, since he's well aware that there's some cruel irony in that, but it's certainly part of why he enjoys it. ]

Our meal tonight is decadent, with the star main course being a full, elegantly cooked rack of beef ribs that are displayed quite beautifully. And as always, I hope we do not have any vegetarians at the table, since it would be a shame to have the freshness of the meat wasted.

[ He takes a seat again, takes a sip of his drink, then nods to the table. ]

Please, enjoy the meal.

[ ooc: this prompt is semi-ota because it requires a fairly substantial donation to get a seat, but if your character would be willing to pay, then go for it! I won't be policing the details of the how, but just join in and engage Hannibal or anyone else at the table in dinner talk.

Also, this is definitely people. Because of course it is. ]

ii. feeding the needy (ota)

[ Of course, if you can't afford the more exclusive dinner party, Hannibal isn't one to deny anyone an evening of entertainment. Later in the week, there's a much more open affair at the Lecter estate. While it still requires a donation (unless you're a close friend of Hannibal or Will), it's much more modest, and would be open to even a well-off Westie if they had the ability and want to go. While not as lavish as the dinner party, there's at least still Lecter hospitality in the form of hokk and hors d'oeuvres (and not people in this case) for anyone to sample and enjoy.

Hannibal will be playing host throughout the night, which means if you do decide to attend, you're likely to run into Hannibal at some point. He makes a point to try and greet everyone, after all. ]

Thank you for coming. I hope that you're enjoying your evening.

iii. wildcard

[ The usual! If you want to thread with Hannibal, but neither of these prompts work, hit me up! We can always figure out a custom prompt. ]

i

[digophelia]

[ Usually, her "neighbors" don't invite her to any lavish dinner parties. Alice had every intention to work her way up through Leithian society, but that was a few weeks ago. She saw a slight advantage for these gatherings, but that was only because it did bring more money to these causes. Though the resentment that it was building for the starving was something Alice was mindful of.

She was different now. More assertive and confident in herself, now that she had been fully left to her devices. Thanks to Steinbeck, there was no trace of her family's lawyer and that somehow faded into obscurity with Leithian politics. Alice couldn't have asked for a perfect time.

Except with this.

The arguments she had with that lawyer and how she was being repeatedly threatened while suffering possibly the worst psychotic episodes since her release back to the asylum. Alice, who's reputation, unfortunately, precedes her is not as bold as she was before. Among other Leithians, Alice is still very short for her age as well as slender. Both this and her reputation make her stick out like a sore thumb.

While Alice loathes wasting food, she isn't sure whether or not she wants to sit, already open and vulnerable. She's still unsure as to why she's been invited other than thinking it could be a trap of the sort. Not due to ill intentions, no, she fears someone will see that she still struggles with her mind and will promptly end up back at the asylum, just like that man vowed. ]

I must admit, I'm surprised that you would invite the likes of me, Dr. Lecter.

[sating]

[ Hannibal takes a sip from his glass, but sets it down with a smile. His gaze stays on his own hands—his glass, and then his fork and knife as he picks them up—But his attention is focused on Alice. He's dedicated to being an excellent host, and so when engaged in a conversation with a guest, the only thing that divides his attention at all is his own meal. ]

Is it a surprise?

[ He questions lightly, but there's genuine, soft curiosity in his tone. He starts to take parts of dishes for his plate, but continues speaking. ]

It would be quite rude of me if I did not invite my neighbors. [ Which is a genuine motivation, though after a moment's pause to set something on his plate, he adds: ] Though I also have not seen you for quite some time. I have been busy, as have you.

[ Hannibal glances up to her and gives a small nod ]

It sounds as if your own efforts have kept you busy, Alice.

[digophelia]

A little.

[ And this is something that Alice wouldn't admit freely weeks ago. While Alice knows it's rude to take up a plate herself, she's not quite sure yet. She's uncomfortable to find herself in his presence, after abruptly ceasing communication with him. Doctors like to poke and prod, after all. Though with Hannibal, she can give him credit for being more intelligent than the asylum doctors.

She can't say whether that's good or bad. She vows not to fidget or cower behind her long locks of hair, so she sits there with her hands firmly in her lap and her shoulders pulledback.

See? She's fine. Mostly! ]

Indeed I have, doctor, I've been contributing to efforts in Leith as well as starting my own efforts for relief, especially the children orphaned by the epidemic.

[ She pauses and has to ask, because as always, Alice is very curious. ]

Are you upset with me that I have not come to you for a small while?

Giovanni Rammsteiner - Westerley - Leith - various closed prompts

[ofobedience]

((If we don't have anything planned but you'd like to do something with Gio, just hit me up at kamaitachiyoukai and we can set something up!))

Badou - Westerley - W9D4

[ofobedience]

[Within the many-headed beast that is the Company, something has begun to stir. He knows this much, silent and watchful as he tends to be-- the decrease in Enforcer presence out on the streets hasn't escaped his attention, hasn't bypassed him, but more than that is the jitter and thrum of subtle activity within the Kennel itself. Spaces that had previously been occupied by equipment or offices have been hollowed out, laid bare, and there's a tension in the air, a sense of impending change, that he can't shake loose of. It gets into his bones, gets into all of their bones - the Dogs - and whilst he's accustomed to keeping his mouth shut and not asking questions, follows orders with blind obedience, this time it bothers him. Leaves him sparking and unsettled.

He never has coped well with the concept of radical change.

Eventually he begins to carefully probe for answers, ask subtle questions, but he gets nothing from his Handlers besides commands to keep quiet and do as he's told and as such he decides to take matters into his own hands. Which is what he's doing out here in Old Town tonight, having encouraged his Handler to shirk his responsibilities at the bottom of a bottle whilst he prowls the grimy streets alone. Prowling with purpose, as it happens, looking for a certain someone.

He's concealed by the overhanging shadows of a dingy side-alley when Badou strolls past, poised and waiting, hand mercury-quick as it darts out to grasp the long swing of his bright orange ponytail, yanks hard until he's dragged into the darkness along with him. The man will find himself pressed up against the slipperyslick stone of the alley wall, Giovanni leaning in close, pinning him there with a palm pressed flat to his chest and a dagger-sharp smile.]

I've been looking for you.

[brokeassgoing]

[Badou's got to stop minding his own goddamn business because this is exactly how he gets himself into these kinds of problems. Always!

He doesn't even have the chance to scream, scalp aching and back hitting the wall, Giovanni's breath in his face where he looks at him with those buggy glasses.]

That's funny, I've been hopin' to never fuckin' see you again. Take it this ain't a social call.

[ofobedience]

What a pity for you.

[And he laughs, the sound of it dry and cracked like the crunch of dead leaves underfoot. He stays where he is, uncomfortably close, keeps the taller man pinned there against the cool brick with a sickening kind of ease.]

But no. It isn't a social call. I believe you deal in information, correct?

[Which...might be a surprising question considering how their other interactions have gone so far, but there it is.]

Jack - Westerley - W9D5

[ofobedience]

[He isn't hard to find. The information is readily available enough, with only a minimum amount of searching through Company files required, something Jack quite clearly hasn't seen any need to conceal. The location of his residence. It's not difficult, either, to roughly track his movements during the course of the day, something he has ample experience with, both officially speaking and less so, and as such he has an idea of when he'll find the man at home, unaccompanied.

There's a level of risk involved - he ought not to be in the residential area of the Company compound, isn't permitted to leave the Kennel at all without the watchful supervision of a Handler or some suitably-positioned Company personnel - but he's had practice with this, too, and some things are worth the risk. The night is thick with the pulse of demand, his curiosity and concern rising up in him like unquiet ghosts that refuse to be laid to rest and yes he's usually content to keep quiet and passive when he's told to be, to follow orders without question, to go where he's instructed to go without needing to know the underlying reasons. But all of this, the subtle retreat of Old Town's Enforcers, the unsteady undercurrent of movement and tension that sweeps through the Kennel right now-- something's coming, some deep and momentous change, and whilst any direct questions he's asked of his Handlers have been met only with dismissive looks and demands for him to keep quiet there's a good Dog, he can't seem to shake loose of his concerns. Not this time.

All the usual feelings twist in his guts as he slinks through the shadows towards Jack's door, the bone-deep dislike and the old resentment, the things he's carried with him for the longest, longest time. But Jack knows things, doesn't he? Has connections in places both high and low and given that Giovanni's jangling thoughts keep rhythmic company with every movement he makes, it seems a necessary evil. A risk worth taking.

And so he reaches his destination, hesitates only for one fractional moment before knocking ratta-tat-tat- on Jack's door. He has questions, and perhaps the Intake Facility Manager has answers. Perhaps he'll even be willing to share.]

[refactor]

[ Change is coming, and it's not something Jack likes at all.

It would probably be a surprise to anyone that knew Jack that he took issue with where the Company was going, because there were few people as dedicated to the idea that Westerley was a place that needed change quite badly. And if it were to come through violence? That was just fine with him. It always had been, and even at a basic level, he agreed that maybe this was the best and only way to take.

However, Jack had one very secret investment deep inside Westerley that no one knew about. It was his trump card, the proverbial dagger in the shadows, and there was a simple, visceral reaction that he had to protect what gave him strength that no one even knew about.

But more than that, he had to protect his daughter.

He's in the middle of what many, many Company people on Westerley must be doing right now, and that's looking for properties on Leith that he could move to. Or really, move Angel to, because that's what's far more important to him here. When a knock comes at the door, Jack looks up from his work with a frown, because he wasn't expecting anyone, but there's at least one person he knows that's prone to dropping by unexpectedly.

Still, as he heads to the door, he keeps his pistol within reach, but when he peers through the door, his frown only deepens. That's a surprise, to say the least, but he relaxes somewhat and opens the door. ]

Gio— Kiddo, never thought you would be the kinda guy to stop by for house calls. Ya miss me that much?

[ did you miss him ]

[ofobedience]

[A surprise-- well, it certainly should be that. Independent action among the Dogs is, of course, unheard of, and when Jack opens the door he'll find Giovanni quite alone. He's dressed in casual black, no Cerberus Unit uniform in sight, the collar bolted down into his neck quite concealed-- it's the kind of attire anyone in Old Town could be seen wearing, inconspicuous and worn, intended for when the Dogs are required to make patrols during difficult times without alerting the general populous to what kind of monster they have in their midst. Anything else would have made him stand out too much, coming here like this, unaccompanied and in a place he ought not to be. As for the whereabouts of his Handler-- getting drunk in some Old Town bar, shirking his duty, having accepted Giovanni's assurances that he'll be on his best behaviour if left to his own devices for just a little while. The unscrupulous sort that will no doubt be left behind here when all is said and done.

But Jack isn't aware of this, of the circumstances that have led to Giovanni appearing here alone tonight, and isn't there a chance he's come to commit an act of violence? That pistol Jack keeps just out of sight won't be much help to him if that's what the Dog's decided on. One will just have to hope that his bone-deep conditioning holds.

The door opens, and Giovanni leans languid against the frame. Flashes his teeth in a vague approximation of a smile.]

Oh, terribly.

[His voice is the usual sardonic drawl, posture loose, near-boneless, but beneath all that there's a hard-wound energy, fizzing just below the surface. Something perhaps discernible in the set of his shoulders, the way his eyes briefly flicker off to one side and then back to Jack again. Something's bothering him, and it isn't just concern over being caught in some place he ought not to be.]

Aren't you going to invite me in? I've made this special effort just to see you, after all.

Julius - Leith - W10D2

[ofobedience]

[The forest at night-- it's dark in a way that would be unthinkable on Westerley, back in Old Town, some form of sickly thrumming light always present no matter the hour, sky stained orange until the first creeping fingers of dawn begin to illuminate the sky. It's different out here, quiet and cold and black, a strange sense of openness despite the thick tangle of trees and undergrowth that stretch in all directions. Better, one might think. More wholesome somehow. Though in truth such places have always left Giovanni feeling vaguely discomforted for reasons he can't quite comprehend. A creature accustomed to containment of varying kinds, this kind of openness gets into him somehow. Makes something jitter and jangle in his skull, something he can almost - but not quite - name, something he can almost reach out and touch.

Just beyond his reach. Vaguely, his brow furrows.

They've been sent out here to hunt down a small pocket of Resistance rumoured to have been camping in the area, and with each step they make, each subtle crackle of leafy debris underfoot, they move in closer. The Dog walks on just a few paces ahead rather than his customary two behind, chin slightly lifted as he scents the air, pausing just for a moment as he catches something-- the faint whiff of woodsmoke, the soft susurration of shifting bodies.

They're getting closer.]

This way.

[He makes a small motion of one hand, pale as a spectre against the black of night. Glances over his shoulder at his superior. Awaits further instruction.]

[tousei]

[ They've worked together for plenty of times to make this come naturally to him. Julius walks with a silence not usually associated with Company people, weapons concealed with cloth and sheath to blend in more with the surroundings. They would not be needed once they're close to the camp.

He has his own misgivings about the whole process, but there's hardly a right time to voice them. Only a right time to do his job. Conflict was unavoidable, what with the rising tensions and food shortages - but criminals are criminals. The key lay to identifying them, but how can he judge a person's character just by the span of a short firefight? ]

We should see how many of them there are.

[ If it was less than five, it should be easy. ]

[ofobedience]

[Whereas the Dog who stalks just ahead of him has only one thing on his mind, no queries or concerns, no reservations. Already it's rising in him, the shake and shiver that passes through his Spine, the panting sound inside his head that pushes him on towards violence. All he thinks of is how each one of them will die, the feel of their bodies breaking, splitting open beneath his waiting palms. Quick and efficient, or brutal and raw? These are his only questions.

As such, he gives a perfunctory nod towards his Handler, turns once again in the direction of the scent, moves a few paces forward. They should be able to sneak up on them easily enough, both of them made for something more than ordinary combat, weapons designed for efficiency, for bringing about certain death.

For the moment though--]

I anticipate around, eight, based on scent alone. But it's a hard thing to judge at this distance.

Hijikata - Leith - W10D5

[ofobedience]

[With each day that passes the situation on Leith only seems to intensify, streets that were once sedate and near-peaceful now filled with brimming violence, tempers that flare in the blink of an eye and blood spilled amidst the stalls that had been an oasis of genteel calm. Almost, almost, it makes him think of Westerley, that place so full of grit and grime that to turn a corner is to risk having one's throat opened up and no things haven't descended quite to those grim depths, but the word 'yet' hovers over everyone's heads as the food supplies become scarcer and scarcer, as fear makes its mark on what had been a near-idyllic moon.

So much the better, from Giovanni's perspective.

He's been left unsettled and shaken from the sudden upheaval, from discovering that the Dogs - himself, of course, among them - have been reassigned to this place where they were once considered too much of a risk to be permanently housed. There's still the quick shock like a snapped stem that had come from the injuries he'd sustained earlier in the week, the ones that hadn't immediately healed, the concern in him from knowing the nanotech that keeps him functioning had been temporarily compromised a cold and cutting thing. For the moment it's back online, his body in full working order, and the wounds sustained that night with julius neatly smoothed away, but the ugly surprise of it still stains his bones and pollutes his mind with an uncertainty he'd never ordinarily feel.

Not that it shows. As always, he's stoic and sinuous, filled with an outward composure that conceals the chaos within.

The patrol he's been sent on tonight, it has just as much to do with keeping a fractious hound from becoming too inert (and therefore bored, and therefore dangerous) as it is to ensure the continued safety of the citizens they walk among. He's not scheduled for a raid tonight, no resistance hunting for this weapon, and instead he walks the Lethian streets at the heels of a temporary Handler, assigned to whichever Enforcer had been available at the time.

It's Hijikata, then, who has the dubious pleasure of walking the Dog tonight.]

Hana - Leith - W10D1

[ofobedience]

[His assigned Handler is dead, killed in an altercation with a band of Resistance deep in the Lethian forest and as such the Dog is now alone out here, quite unsupervised. Of course, he's called it in, knows someone is being sent out to replace the fast-cooling corpse of the woman who's supposed to be watching him, and the tracking device implanted in his skull should make it simple enough for him to be found when the cavalry arrives. He'd been ordered, though, to remain in one place (sit and stay, there's a good dog) until his replacement supervision should locate him, and whilst he's inclined on the whole towards absolute obedience, there's also the jitter and thrum of pent-up violence in him, the need for more, for the copper-hot scent of blood. That pocket of Resistance he'd come up against, the ones now lying decimated on the ground back at their densely-wooded hideout-- they're not the only ones out here. This much he knows.

Why wait for backup when he can get on with things alone, make short work of the Company's enemies and have some fun in the process? Better by far than sitting on his hands and waiting for another Handler to show up for him. They'll be here for extraction, that's all he needs, and in a situation like this he's better off without them. The problem with unaltered humans is that they're so very breakable, so prone to death. He has no such concerns, himself.

And so he moves through the darkened forest with perfect fluid ease, footfalls hushed and silent, a dark shadow in the deeper depths of night. Up ahead, his heightened senses have already picked up the scent of woodsmoke, the soft sounds of a shifting body, and it's in this direction he's heading now. It's not until he gets closer, though, that he realises it's a scent he knows, has encountered before, that the little camp he's closing in on isn't the one he's looking for and is, in fact, occupied by only a single person.

A killjoy.

He emerges from the black spaces between the trees like a spectre, like a ghost, steps into the soft circle of firelight. Smiles his sharp-angled smile. Hana King. Out here on a warrant, no doubt. It would be impolite not to stop and say hello.]

Nice night for a campfire.

[brickinthewall]

[Her exoskeleton has seen better days. Scratched to hell and back, dented but never bent, Hanna wears the suit as if it were her lifeline and her coffin. It might as well should be both. The fire suit she wears underneath is a precaution. Heated metal still scars on fireproof skin. She could withstand the element, but not the effects of metal.

Hanna has no smile to offer. The hollows of her eyes and cheeks are pronounced in the firelight held in the palm of her right hand. Her hair is messy as ever.]

I hate the outdoors.

[And it's mostly true. The great outdoors doesn't really stand up to the hell she could literally raise. One would think being in forced isolation would give a person a greater appreciation for life outside of a box.

Not her. She wanted the city life that had been hers, not this camping crap.]

[ofobedience]

[He looks her over slowly, doesn't bother to hide his overt observation of her, takes in the sight of the battered suit, the wild tangle of her hair. For himself, his uniform is torn in places, bullet holes and the marks of machetes left behind as they'd gone into him, though there's no sign of injury beneath all that, skin pure and pale and unmarked as ever. His hands and face are coated in fast-drying blood.

He watches her with quick red animal eyes, laughs softly. Advances another step towards her, then two. There's something predatory in him, yes, something fierce and tightly-coiled, but for the moment at least it doesn't seem he intends to direct his volatility towards her.]

I'm unaccustomed to it myself, I must admit.

[His own small box is a kind of comfort to him, something grounding. All this openness gets into his bones and leaves him disconcerted for reasons he never has been quite able to determine. Something almost-remembered, but ever just out of reach.]

Hijikata Toushirou | Company | Leith | OTA

[mayora13]

[Bandages still constrict Hijikata's movement, wrapped tightly around ribs that have mended only just enough allow him released to active duty. Clad in his uniform, he gives no sign of his injuries, aside from the posture with which he stands. Hands free of his pockets, hips squared with his shoulders rather than swung forward, Hijikata looks more a Company man than ever.

His actions follow his appearance.

A shift to Leith only meants more burden for the citizens there, including the very ones he'd been hurt trying to protect. The thought that his incident could have contributed to the move leaves his smoke tasting bitter in his mouth. If anything, opportunists used it as a final underscore on their plans, he knows, but as with all failures, he's left wondering if there wasn't something else he could have done.

The solution he's settled on, for now, is not to repeat the same mistake.

No chance for conflict.

The streets of the farming moon aren't ravaged by violent sorts, so single patrols through the more residential areas - to avoid frightening the locals - have been instated. He's been walking all night, a quiet evening that's left him to his cigarettes. Despite reaching the end of his shift, Hijikata's diligence hasn't wavered. A head peeking, then darting between two sheds, immediately draws his attention.

When he pursues, intercepts, the conversation quickly goes sour. The man in question makes his intent clear with insults and insistence of legal action.

He's clearly never been to Westerley.

Hijikata draws his sword, and there's no battle to be had - the man is dead in an instant, gut sliced through to spill blood and viscera onto the ground.

Maybe you're a Company enforcer coming to relieve him. Check on him. Or maybe you're simply walking the streets of Leith, drawn to a shout quickly silenced. No matter the reason, the sight is clear: a Company man bathed in yellowed street light with weapon drawn and blood pooling at his feet.]

slides in... also what IC time would this be :|a

[tousei]

[ Truly, they are not so different after all.

Julius' own wounds were much more subtly concealed, being surgical instead of borne from assault. Years of self-control had honed his personal awareness to a keen edge not usually attainable by mere humans, so it was very easy to pass inspection despite the fact that he harboured something very inhuman inside of him.

The shout is heard, and his footsteps quicken, a sword too at his side. His eyes fall on the corpse at Hijikata's feet with barely more than a blink, voice level as one would to a fellow worker.

Or slave. ]

I hope you have the documentation to report that.

whenever u want it lmao he's open and free

[mayora13]

[Fast approaching footsteps signal the approach of a possible second - when Julius comes into view Hijikata has already turned, blade raised and ready, but a familiar uniform stays his hand.

The corpse behind him still twitches, spilling blood deep enough to ripple when Hijikata steps from it and into the wider street.] I'll take care of it. [He's not one to pass over the logistics.

But for now, there's a more pressing concern.] There may be more. [Casting a glance down the path he's stepped away from, Hijikata squints in the darkened light, looking for any signs of motion.]

Alice Liddell | Leith | OTA

[digophelia]

WEEK IX

DAY 4 - soup kitchen

[ Alice is more hands on with her work, as usual. Through most of the week, Alice hasn't gone to any major events, instead, utilizing her own fortune to help bring more people to the ground level than the lavish Leithian parties. Today, Alice is out on her own, leaving her volunteers to another part with instructions to report back later.

With her new-gained confidence, she wasn't as fussed as she usually was, standing on a crate to actually reach over and hand food out to others. But every so often, Alice had to jump down and run back to what else was being cooked and given out. No matter what they seemed to do, however, it wasn't working to alleviate the food shortage. ]

I'm terribly sorry, I'll be back shortly-

[ Alice pauses to check on anyone else who may be helping hand out food. ]

Don't be afraid to tell me if you need help.


DAY 7 - GET OFF MY LAWN (the weirdest sleepover)

[ While Alice's estate was in a secluded area, further away from any major city or township in Leith, that didn't stop the attempts of looting. At the risk of starting Gwen, the child ward living in her house, Alice caved. There were a few people she had known on good terms and at her own behest, her own anxiety, Alice did something she really never has done before: invite guests.

To prevent a looting.

A wealthy Leithian like her should have servants, but in this house, it's only Alice and Gwen doing the housework. Staving off looters allowed the both of them to relax. As Alice had it in her mind to bring tea out to the foyer, adorning a worn apron and Gwen toddling after Alice wearing her own little apron with treats. ]

I wish I could hold company under better circumstances. [ Alice makes a face as she rests a platter on the table and moves aside to allow Gwen to place it beside the tea. Actually now that she thinks about it, she wouldn't really be keen on hosting a dinner or a lunch. ]

Ah, never mind. It's for their safety, not ours.

7

[tousei]

[ Julius had donated a part of his assets to Alice's cause, so it's natural that he would arrive once invited. Like Sion, he's wearing Company uniform, his blade sheathed at his side - just in case. ]

Hello, Alice. [ He gives Gwen a nod, still unsure of how to speak to small children. ] We will be here for you.

(◡‿◡✿) sleepover!!!

[sunderings]

[ Thankfully enough, Julius can rely upon Sion where Gwen is concerned—dropping down into a crouch, Sion opens his arms to embrace the small girl who readily makes space for herself inside their secure circle, greeting him with a familiar hello. And then, perhaps much like the night when Sion had first carried Gwen to Alice's home, he...! Lifts Gwen up, seamlessly rising to his full height, before turning about (precisely once) in full circumference upon his heel.

For his effort, Sion is rewarded with a peal of laughter, Gwen's giggles giving way to his own, softer chuckles— ]

Then I'll entrust myself to you, Miss Gwen. [ She'll look after him, won't she? ] And the rest of us--...

[ He looks to Julius, then to Alice with a fond expression, clearly happy to be with them both despite the troubling state of present affairs. ]

We'll look after each other.

Ryner Lute | Company | Around (mostly Westerley/wherever Sion sends him WHO KNOWS)

[somnusrex]

Pre-kidnapping! (OTA)

Ryner's main goal at the moment was to try to help figure out a way to secure the area where Sion's office was located, and all of Westerly in general. He'd heard about the methods used in other areas and was pretty disgusted with them, since they could cause so much damage.

He wanted to find a way to make a barrier that could, conceivably, keep the area protected without endangering the life or health of anyone or anything that came in contact with it.

So he was spending the time that he wasn't away on missions (and quite a bit of time while he was, really) researching light and sound fields and how they could interact with other technology and systems.

But it wasn't his specialty, and he was trying to do it quietly, as he did most of his research. An anonymous message on the network and various quick side trips to libraries and research facilities on Leith were the way he was going about it. Which of course meant seeing the situation there for what it was, and trying to help people obtain food as best he could without direct orders to do so...

Kidnapping! W10D3/D4 and onward until he's rescued! Closed to Team Root (Steinbeck, Handsome Jack and Bucky Barnes) and Sion Astal, and whomever Sion drags along to help (if anyone!)

Well. It wasn't like he'd been expecting to receive a summons, but it looked pretty official, so he figured he might as well answer it.

(I know I haven't really talked to anyone about the plotting for this, will edit when more is cleared up or if you just want to post and we can go from there, that's fine too!)

Post kidnapping! OTA and anything goes

After being rescued, Ryner made it his mission to work as quickly and quietly as possible on the barrier technology and to somehow thwart the steadily advancing reach of the Company. In the process, his nanotech began to experience malfunctions, leading to the destruction and erasure of a several important programs in the Westerley Company offices and in several areas of infrastructure. Hopefully no one's caught in the crossfire from exploding systems...