Chapter 3

[thenine]

Who: OTA
Where: Quad
When: Week IV, Day VII - Week VI, Day VI
Summary: Chapter 3 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.

Quick Navigation
The Nine
The Company
Westies
True Leithians
Leith
Resistance
The RAC

The Nine: Promises Unmade

Using the increase in unrest, as so many opportunists do, those within the Nine who seek to pursue their own agendas - whether that be family prestige, personal gain, or systematic upheaval - will find bountiful footholds to secure their positions. Land Kendry continues to assert itself as a leader in these troubling times, with Land Derrish falling in tow. Their first target, Land Hyponia, is shaken, careful not to make any mistakes that could crumble the already cracked mortar holding them together with the nobility. Aggressive though Land Derrish may have been, their sights have moved elsewhere, now focusing on driving forward oppressive legislation to replace the Seventh Generation Accords, rather than further eroding the power of Land Hyponia. Kendry is looking to control a functioning oligarchy, not cause a war over the territory that would be up for grabs should Land Hyponia fall. With the announcement of the Seventh Generation accords confirming already widespread rumors, those within the Nine are careful to place blame for the decision on the activities of the Resistance. For many, this is a believable conclusion, as the attacks by the True Leithans shook society at its core on both Westerley and Leith. Being a radical group, their intentions have been conflated with those of the Resistance in the eyes of many. Discourse on the subject isn't uncommon, but any within the Nine who seek a different target of blame best do so quietly, as dissent from within could quickly have one labeled a sympathizer of the unjust cause of the Resistance. On the surface a harmless placating measure taken by the Nine, the new PDDs being distributed through the Quad are touted as the pinnacle of communication technology. While some higher ranking Company officials and members of the nobility may already have access to quick and reliable network connection, these capabilities are now universal with the installation of the Meshwork. The Meshwork will enable all characters to interact in real time via text, video, or voice, but it isn't without side effects. For some reason, characters who frequently use their PDDs or who are in areas of heavily concentrated network use may suffer from headaches, nosebleeds, blurred vision, and/or dizziness, with more severe side effects including temporary blindness, loss of balance, short-term memory loss, and hallucinations. Connection of these symptoms to the PDDs is not the most common diagnosis, as many think the afflictions are a result of the aftershocks of P43X.

The Company: Balancing Act

With clean up from the P43X attack not yet completed, all Company officials should expect to have no singular responsibility, and little time for sleep, as they find the expectations levied upon them to only grow. Frayed nerves can create a hostile working environment, though anyone could be on the receiving end of any outbursts. The streets have returned from their throes of death with new life, but the city's usual clamor is being overtaken by the roar of protest. Some are peaceful demonstrations; some are violent riots, every display a reaction to the repeal of the Seventh Generation Accords. …At least, that’s what it says on paper, the docket that many Company officials receive outlining simple but brutal crowd control and suppression tasks. Whether a bar has been taken over as a hub of dissent, a street corner filled with unmoving protestors, or a Company affiliated storehouse raided, there's plenty to do for those tasked with keeping the peace. You may simply wish to make arrests, or you may welcome the chance to get your hands dirty - the law is on your side, and all voices daring to oppose the order of things need silenced. Those who don't take to the streets will likely find themselves on border control duty, checking the identification and supply dossiers of all incoming and outgoing ships. No one gets in, or out, without the proper clearance. Ship-wide searches have become standard practice, producing storerooms overflowing with contraband. Some may welcome the chance for banal organization, while others may take some 'bonus compensation' for themselves. With the tightening of rules comes the increase of bribery, and Company officials looking to line their pockets will find their opportunities in surplus. Get caught, however, and there's no second-chances. Although the Company audits have concluded, tensions only grow, and anyone found helping those with diverging agendas will be punished swiftly, cast in with the rest of the dissenters.

Westies: Tidal Force

Bereavement weighs heavy in the wake of the P43X attack on Westerley. Burdened by being both the last location of infection and the last to receive medicinal aid, Westies are entrenched in the solemn task of burying their fallen while the merciless machine of the economy marches on. Whether it’s the result of a lost loved one or the continued illness of primary caretakers, the end result is the same: families all across Old Town struggle to feed their children and make ends meet. It’s always been a guiding principle of Westerley—if you can’t work, you can’t eat—but with so many who can do neither, the situation in Old Town begins to grow dire. But there’s hope, albeit in the form of a double-edged blade: with the newly distributed PDDs and Meshwork installation, nonprofit organizations are able to conduct themselves on a wider scale, drawing in more donors from outside of Westerley. While their efforts are ultimately but a drop in the ocean, the renewed spirit of community and altruism provides relief—as well as nourishment—for many who might very well die without it. That same tool which allows the people to come together is also used to rend it; rumors begin to circulate through encrypted bulletins about the emergency meeting held on (Week IV, Day VII). Some of the rumors are wild speculation and fanciful daydreams, but in the mire of them, a grain of truth slips through. The Accords have fallen, they say. Be ready. Most people disregard the rumors, writing them off as the idle machinations of conspiracy theorists. They cling to their hope that soon their children will walk a planet that is bountiful in food and sunshine, that the land promised on Leith will deliver them from the hell they current endure. It’s those people who shout the loudest when the official announcement confirms the rumor. The Accords have been repealed. (Week V, Day III) At first, protestors gather in small, grumbling groups, little more than angry drunks. But as more and more people take to the Meshwork, the wrath of the few awakens the desperation of the many, and over the course of the night, the peaceful protest swells into an unruly riot. Workers strike, but without any legal protection, they swiftly find themselves rebuked by unemployment. Now with nothing to lose and everything to gain, the riots expand, filling the streets of Old Town with anger and tension. Company personnel become popular targets, and within the next day, all travel permits to and from Westerley are temporarily revoked. The moon closes its docks in an attempt to smother the flames of the rebellion. What starts as a movement for change shifts into a violent cataclysm, homes and businesses burned down, families torn apart by dissent within and outside of themselves. The Company seems content to let Old Town destroy itself, to let them “get it out of their system”, but all too soon that stance changes as well. With the death of a distant cousin of the Derrish, Company orders shift. Lethal force is authorized, and all too eagerly, used. Once the death toll begins to climb, the protests decline. The riots soften, though they do not disappear outright. Company and Westie optimists take to podiums in a desperate attempt to bid their fellow compatriots once more into peace. But something else awakens in the fires of those riots. Something far more dangerous than the chaos of anger: something controlled, methodical. They call themselves Hyperion, and they are the new faces of the Resistance.

True Leithians: Rested Laurels

For this faction, the time to scatter is nigh. Their work is complete: the Accords are no more, and the militant leaders order the reintegration of their soldiers into civilian life. Leith’s rightful owners retain the precious land that was once threatened, and although their methods were extreme, they are justified by the end result. But while the True Leithians see this as only a rested pause in their work, their benefactors—those who provided the resource and information that allowed their wicked deeds to see fruition—see this time as the closing of a chapter. Loose ends that might later lead to Qreshi officials or even potentially the Nine themselves are dealt with severely and harshly, albeit quietly. Several prominent figures of Leith’s highest echelon of society simply disappear, and curiously, those around them don’t seem to remember that they were ever there in the first place. Their benefactors are not the only group that would see the True Leithians burn. Among the first wave of missions delegated beneath the Resistance is the assassination of known True Leithian sympathizers. Unlike the Company, the members of Hyperion are ordered to perform their tasks loudly, to send a message written in the blood of the True Leithians. The citizens of Westerley will no longer be the gutless pawns of the Quad. They will strike back, and they will uncover the source of the True Leithian’s funding and information. If the True Leithians thought themselves ruthless, they’ll soon learn a new measure of savagery when Hyperion converges on their trail.

Leith: Olive Branch

The atmosphere of Leith is one of both hope and mourning. Recovery on Leith proceeds more efficiently than that on Westerley, their infrastructure and resources better able to accommodate those that were felled in the P43X attack. But although agency has the streets of Leith cleaner and the surfaces shining, the spirit of the moon itself suffers a devastating blow in the wake of the attack, the people of Leith unprepared and unseasoned to deal with the psychological ramifications of so much death. But they are not yet hardened by the experience, drawing together in the spirit of cooperation to restore not just the physical aspects of their homes, but the mental fortitude of their people. Charity drives and galas proceed in extravagant fashion, as if by the display of their assets they might rebel against the somber circumstances on which they’re hosted. For most on Leith, the fall of the Accords arrives as welcomed news, the citizens of the moon long since opposed to sharing their land with those of Westerley. But although the sense of satisfaction with the ends is high, there’s also an undercurrent of regret for the means which provided it. Unlike the True Leithians, most of the citizens of Leith are not radical or extreme, and they offer their sympathies—but only their sympathies—to those Westies in their midst. News of the riots results in tighter security around the Westies still stationed on the moon, and for the days that the violent storm on Westerley builds, Leith in turn becomes markedly quieter and more conscientious. Moderates come together over the Meshwork and propose a Peace Summit, a meeting of both delegation and charity, once the riots and dangers of traveling have passed. The summit is sanctioned by Leithian officials, as well as the allocation of surplus resources to aid their sister moon in her recovery. While many citizens of Leith eagerly await the news of lands once lost to their families for the Accords, many more donate their time and hands as part of the newly created Good Will Corps, a coalition of both political pundits and regular people devoted to strengthening the connection between the moons rather than sowing division. Volunteers—and some individuals who are voluntold, join the Good Will Corps on a trip to Old Town where the Peace Summit is scheduled (Week VI, Day III), lending their time, their labor, and their technology as a gesture of good faith. But whether or not that’s sufficient to see the Peace Summit garner any steps towards system stability is another matter altogether.

Resistance: Sacred Grove

The people of the Quad barely have time to remove the packaging from their new PDDs before a new voice of dissent begins to worm its way down the feed. Encrypted messages, quick flashes of imagery begin appearing at random on open networks and closed channels alike, pitting the harsh realities of the suffering, suffocating Westerley against the excess and decadence on display by both Leithians and the Nine, showcasing the disparity in the starkest of lights. All of it aimed at one purpose, to spread one solemn truth: the branches of the Mother Tree are burning… and the Nine seem to be holding the matches. The name whispered, the one goading dissent, echoes through the Quad - Hyperion - followed slowly with the murmur of hope. Of an intellect so profound that not even the Nine themselves will be able to stop it. With an artful ease, this new force begins to reach out, to commandeer the discordant efforts of the Resistance and reforge it into something stronger, faster. Deadlier. It starts with a select few receiving instructions directing them to safe houses already stocked with equipment and supplies, each with tech tailored to that cell's purpose and loaded with dossiers far too complete to have been compiled by the average citizen. Some of the background information appears to come directly from the records of the Company, or the Nine themselves, while still more from planets outside the Quad. Some even hint at records long since sealed by the RAC. Nothing points to one faction over another. Nothing reveals the how or why this Hyperion has decided to play these particular cards now, but one thing is quite clear. There's a deep laid plan being set into motion, and neither the Company or the Nine will see it coming. All these leaders have to do is gather their forces...

The RAC: New Grade

The citizens of the Quad were not the only ones affected by the P43X - the upper ranks of the RAC's field agents is notably thinner - and with tensions shifting yet again between the moons, they cannot afford to be ill-prepared and understaffed. In order to bolster their ranks, the decision comes down the pipe of a new assessment system: Peer Evaluations. Many of those that have been in their current ranks - those between Levels I - III - will be eligible to receive a two-part assessment of their capabilities to operate efficiently at the next level through successful completion of live warrants. These field evaluations can be conducted by any Level IV agent and turned into Central Command for compilation and rank change approval. Unlike the lower level agents, Level IV assessments will still be conducted by RAC's Central Command, once all of the subordinate assessments have been completed and processed. These agents should take note - part of their own evaluations for Level V will be the efficiency with which they're able to evaluate those below them. During this time, warrants will still flow in and agents sent to answer - especially once the travel bans go into effect on Westerley, as those agents alone bearing active warrants will be able to enter and leave the atmosphere, though their docking point will be limited to the Prisoner Intake facilities.

Comments

[ofobedience]

[The words, they just make him smile all the wider, and this time there's something in it, something knifey and cold. The threat there, it's a palpable thing.]

Fucking people over. I wouldn't have thought that a concern of yours, considering the company you keep.

[Which may seem a strange statement coming from a guy Badou has likely never noticed before, but oh, he's noticed you.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce almost answers with something rude - eager to get a favor out of me, huh - but he doesn't. Kara is one of the few people he actually doesn't want to antagonize. He doesn't usually have trouble reaching his contacts, but. ]

You can try. I don't know how much luck you'll have. [ A beat, and then dryly: ] And how much do I owe you for that?

[eleutheron]

[ She's at least enough of a distraction that he lets the man go. Fenris turns towards her as the man slides down against the wall, bruised but still alive. He's probably not getting up any time soon, though, which serves Fenris's purpose just as well. ]

We were ordered to restore the peace by whatever means necessary.

[ He gestures to the chaos around him--the smoking buildings, the chaotic streets, the shouting and the gunshots and the shattered glass. ]

The Company does not care for these people.

[ He pronounces 'people' with the same level of disdain one might use to say vermin. ][ He glances back at the rioter, now curled up against the wall and moaning. ]

A man cannot disobey if he's dead.

[ Something Fenris always keeps in mind. ]

[uncrownings]

You're not great at this host thing, you know that right?

[He's too cool for knock knock jokes Badou!!!]

[uncrownings]

[This close, there's no hiding the irritation that creases his features- it's a knot between his brows and a tight pull at the corners of his mouth. He's never considered himself careless or heroic enough to be accused of playing the martyr- coming to the Quad had always been about doing what he had to in order to survive and the far off dream of being able to go home at some point- to fix things. To make them right.

He isn't planning to throw himself into the fray in some misguided attempt to save Westerley from the caste system that's broken it down, he's just. Noctis' gaze cuts away.]

You're the one with the supplies. That was a sell to get you out there.

[Not into the fray, but at least to a medical tent. Westerley has never had enough to go around, and this explosion, implosion will bring more of the same. Noctis doesn't have the means or ability to offer anything worthwhile- but Royce does.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce sighs heavily. ]

I have these, and that's it. [ And Royce is selfish. ] I need them, and I'm not giving them away for free.

[bywolves]

[ Royce has no idea what started it and he doesn't much care. He's already restless, already looking for a way out of here when Keith speaks up again. ]

What? Like weapons? Or something else?

[uncrownings]

[Ignis takes it in stride, reassessing the situation with a kind of immediate ease that Noctis can't echo. Instead, his attention is drawn back to the man at their backs. He doesn't know this person. There's no thread of connection between them and there's no relationship to trace the history of- not the way there is with Specs. It's not that he expects it to be simple, but he knows it's supposed to be easier to group things up into ratios based on loyalty and longevity. It isn't. With a hand at the small of his back and bodies around them and the man he'd tried to save a rapidly cooling corpse, Noctis thinks about what it'd looked like when he spotted him on the ground and the pressure of his grip on Noctis' shoulder and the hundreds of steps they'd taken together to get through the crowd.

None of it matters anymore.
Noctis can't stop looking back at him, expression slack and wide-eyed and at once, so much younger than his years.]

[fledges]

[Kate moves again, instinctively. She missed, but for a split second, she's somewhere else, with a man standing above her, helping her to her feet, his expression all concern.

"I got him, right?"
"In the eyes, Kate—"

It's the echo of an old conversation, like a suddenly recalled memory, except she doesn't recognize the man and she doesn't remember that exchange, which means she must be hallucinating—

It's a bad time to lose focus. She moves, but she's so thrown that she doesn't move enough, and the arrow hits her right in the arm. She cries out involuntarily, shocked suddenly back into the present. His throw doesn't have nearly the force of the draw of her bow, but the point of the arrow still buries itself in her bicep, and she's left open.]

smooches

[bywolves]

[ jeSUS hi, Kate. Royce nearly has a heart attack at being grabbed and like - look, you have to be expecting him to have a knife up to her throat. Before he realizes who she is, anyway - once he does, he lowers it. ]

Bishop. [ Royce acknowledges. He takes a deep breath, and then has to turn away a bit to cough. ] My apartment used to be around here, that's what.

[eleutheron]

[ Fenris's lip curls. He doesn't know what disgusts him more--the way Giovanni exults in violence, or the way Fenris himself cannot quite deny the same. He would not fight this way if he hadn't been made to do it, would he? A moot question. He had been made; he had been deliberately carved and taught and crafted. Giovanni was no different, and he was at least honest about it.

He catches a woman with a match and a broken bottle of alcohol; he knocks the bottle to the street, where it shatters into countless glittering shards. He kicks the woman in the stomach, and she crumples, but she's still cradling the match, still trying to light it all the same. ]

I don't do this because I like it.

[ He shoves the woman down, wrenches the match from her fingers, perhaps breaking a few in the process--if the sickly crunch of bone is any indication. He crushes the match between his fingers. ]

We were sent to mediate this madness. The people dictate the terms, and we must respond accordingly.

[ It's their own fault, in other words. He doesn't fully believe that, but he's sure it's what the Company would say. He stares up at Giovanni, thinking about the casual, even jovial way he attacks the Westerlyns. There is something more familiar in him than just his eagerness for battle. Something about the style. Something about the movement. Something about the collar.

Fenris shuts his eyes, and the woman keeps struggling. ]

[uncrownings]

Five. One parent, four kids. [He knows. He knows this has bad idea written all over it because it's one thing to ship dangerous cargo and another to ship something perishable. Whatever stuff people need to send discreetly from one hand to another is radically different than trying to get people out of a bad place and into the unknown. Maybe worse is that he didn't exactly need coercion to agree.

One hand wraps around the back of his neck, rubs there as if it might somehow lesson the tension that's ramped up around the Quad as a whole. It works as well as can be expected, so, not at all. His voice is quiet.]

Some of them are young.

[Really young.]

roYCE

[fledges]

[Kate freezes, giving him a judgmental look as he lowers the knife. She can't really blame him, but she also has to give him a bit of a hard time.]

"Used to". Did you lose it?

[eleutheron]

[ Kate. The woman who took care of him while he was in the throes of that terrible sickness. He's momentarily stunned, enough so that his muscles go slack. The man he's got pinned manages to wriggle free, at least for a second. Fenris grabs him before he can scamper off, pushes him back up against the wall. He's got his palm, open flat, pressed against the man's chest. ]

This one was throwing bombs. You suggest he should escape justice?

[ Honestly, that's not even the most pressing question on his mind right now, but it is the immediate situation. Best to get it seen to first. ]

[fledges]

Does justice include a bullet to the back of the skull?

[That's what the Enforcers have been doling out so far, and she's so angry and exhausted that it comes out sharp and accusatory. It's unfair, but she can't help it.]

Tie him up and leave him somewhere.

[uncrownings]

[Out of control is a good summary, though Noctis thinks it probably says more about the atmosphere within the Quad as a whole than it does about the gala they're attending. It's about perspective, probably. His line of work means he gets around more than most, except Killjoys maybe- no one has accused him of character building, but Noctis knows that the freedom comes with skepticism he can't quite shake. Loyalty is a valuable currency, it bothers people when they can't pin someone's down.

In the relative safety of Crowley's company (that'll be a joke for later) they're both temporarily saved from obligations to dance and the expectation of conversation. He doesn't glance over his shoulder, but Noctis does make a cursory once-over to the crowd. Looks like the festive mood is still going strong.]

Feel free to tell me you're cutting out early.

[uncrownings]

[He knows he shouldn't be surprised by the answer, and he isn't- but that doesn't mean he's happy about it either. He's not here for glory or gratitude, but the need to fight this one point simmers under his skin. It's not about making a statement, it's about doing something. Isn't it?]

Then sell them to me.

[bywolves]

[ Royce raises an eyebrow. ] Sell them to you. For what?

WHAT YOU STARTLED HIM

[bywolves]

[ Listen, she could've been anybody. ]

I did, actually. Stood up and walked away. Got itself blown up. [ Royce doesn't actually know if it has or not, but. That's what he's assuming. ]

[uncrownings]

[A bead of sweat rolls from the tangle of his hair to the slope behind his ear and it does nothing to lessen Noctis exasperation- or his resolve.]

Name a price.

[bywolves]

[ There's a long pause as Royce studies Noctis, expression almost thoughtful. ]

How much joy do you have?

LMFAO GOD!!!

[fledges]

Too bad. Maybe that's your punishment for breaking into other peoples' apartments, huh?

[She tugs him a little closer to the door.]

Do you need somewhere to stay?

[lacuscular]

Juvia cannot understand such irrational thinking.

[ She raises a single hand in the air, her water gathering above it. ]

So what will happen to all the men you kill after they are no longer 'rioters'? [ If appealing through Company orders doesn't work, she'll try something else. ] When peace is restored? And you? What will happen then?

[ She wrinkles her nose, trying her best to keep level-headed despite the very real possibility things could turn sour if she says something wrong-- or worse, wrings his patience thin. Her hand lowers, the liquid sustained above it now floating around her in blobs.

She takes a few steps closer in Fenris' direction. ]

Personally, Juvia doesn't think you'll handle it well.

[bywolves]

[ Royce gives her a look. This is not funny, Kate! ]

Not if you're offering, no. [ His tone is a little annoyed, but it actually isn't her fault. ]

[fledges]

[Kate raises her eyebrows.]

I know a million safe houses around here, but if you're going to be a stubborn ass about it, I could leave you to figure it out yourself.