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

[rhygret]

Well that can't be it...

Huh. Weird. [ Rhys is just super-helpful today ]

[eggplanting]

[He's dead, homie.]

Not that I know of, but all I've got to go on his Company files, and who knows what the record keeping was like. I mean, if something shady was going on, I'm probably not gonna be able to find it with just basic access. And he was gone before this happened, by a little while.

[eggplanting]

Yeah.

[It's kind of non-committal, and she kind of hesitates for a second, before leaning against his side, stealing a little bit of comfort.]

Just another weird thing in my life.

[eggplanting]

[She makes a face, mouth pulled to the side in mild annoyance. (:T)]

I wouldn't ever order you around, you know that, right?

[rhygret]

[ It surprises Rhys at first, has him blinking and looking down at her with a bit of incredulity...but the look fades quickly and he brings a hand up to her shoulder in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. That's what he's going for with that. ]

Weird's not...bad though, right? If it was any different we might not have met. [ So there are silver linings everywhere right? ]

[eggplanting]

[It's pretty much what she was hoping for, so it works.]

I guess I can admit that's one good thing.

[She doesn't actually sound all that put-upon by being "forced" to make the admission, though.]

[rhygret]

[ Hence his past-tense!! Just in case. ]

Is there anyone else in your family you could maybe contact? Get in touch with and see if they know anything? I mean, maybe it was just some freak thing and they can tell you all about their memories with you.

[ofobedience]

[Well. He suspects the truth of it, but still--]

You're perfectly within your rights to do so.

[eggplanting]

It's just me, as far as I know. Mom and dad were both only children.

[She'd looked, hoping to find any kind of connection, but there was nothing there.]

[rhygret]

And no...grandparents, or anything? [ That's such an incredibly small family compared to his, it's almost shocking. Rhys can't imagine having less than several dozen relatives at any time, ready to replace their predecessors and inherit any land as needed. It's...how he just assumed everyone's families were, actually.

What must it be like, to be an only child? ]

[eggplanting]

That's not really the way I see it.

[There are times and places for things like orders, and she knows it, but it's a different thing when someone has been conditioned to obey.]

[rhygret]

[ And that's what makes Rhys smile in that horribly sappy, dopey way he does whenever he has a moment of Actual Friendship with someone. Someone besides Vaughn, that is. It's still kind of a novelty that he's got friends outside of people forced to grow up with him. ]

And I happen to think it's pretty great.

[eggplanting]

Mom's parents died not long after she did.

[There's sort of a softness in the words, because Steph suspects it might be a broken heart kind of thing.]

And dad's were both Company, it's a kinda risky lifestyle.

[rhygret]

...I'm sorry. [ That he isn't coming up with anything more helpful, and for the loss of her family. Rhys has never really had to go through that and he can't even begin to imagine what it must be like to live alone, to be alone in more than just an emotional sense.

his gaze lowers to the table for a moment as he tries to think of anything he can possibly do. ]

I could...see where my credentials get me? Maybe there's more inside The Company's data banks about you? Or your family.

[eggplanting]

I don't know them.

[Her smile is soft and a little sad; some days this, at least, seems easier, because she can miss people she doesn't remember, can't feel that loss except in how she wonders what they'd be like now, if she had them.]

And I don't-- I can't ask you to do that. If there is something in there that people don't want me knowing about, you could get into trouble.

[rhygret]

Hey now, you are looking at the bright future of Land Kendry. And I might not be next in line to lead or anything like that but after that whole scare with Land Derrish? There's no way they'll get rid of anyone less than a third-cousin.

Let me look--I'll be fine.

[ofobedience]

[There's a moment where he just regards her blankly, but then he shrugs, loose-shouldered, smiles in an absent kind of way.]

I find your perspective difficult to understand. With all due respect, of course.

[fledges]

[Kate definitely prepares herself, taking in a deep breath and everything.]

What is it?

[oneirism]

[Stares at.]

That's not food.

[So with that, she stands and heads back over to the pantry, quietly debating what she should make. Or more like what she can make, that won't result in him feeling worse...]

What kind of foods do you like?

[tousei]

[ Sweats quietly.... ]

Anything is fine. I'm not picky... though, you don't have to.

[ See, he's conceded. He'd even help her with making the stuff. ]

[oneirism]

[That look of rage only prompts her frown to deepen, clinging tightly to his arm - thinking for a moment that he may not listen to her. Only to find herself blinking in surprise when he holsters his firearm and slides the sword back into the scabbard, her eyes widening when she finds herself lifted up.

She opens her mouth to try to protest, only to then freeze at his words. Quiet for a moment, before she sighs - listening to him, for now. Simply just leaning against him with a wince, the pain of her wounds becoming more obvious now that she's not focused on something else.

At least her apartment is nearby, though hopefully Kanda doesn't mind her decorating skills too much - she's very much a fan of making things colorful and cozy.]

[lacuscular]

[ At the mention of her bruised cheek, the water she's so furiously defended quickens its pace-- swirling at a speed that shouldn't be safe for the ice cube caught in it. ]

It's not that bad.

...Is it? Is it that bad?

[oneirism]

[There's a quiet hum of agreement there - though she can think of one Nine that might be... adventurous enough to come down here, if only because it might be interesting. But that Nine is a weirdo anyway.

Once Rhys leans forward, her attention sharpens on him - her brows raising on his request. A Lethian wanting to know about the Badlands? That's definitely odd, but her job isn't to question that. So she watches as he places the chip of Joy onto the table, humming softly once more, shifting to lace her fingers under her chin.]

The Badlands, huh? Let's see... The Badlands are completely toxic, going in there without any protection is basically a death wish, since the toxins are in the air, land and whatever water is around. Any storms produced by it are lethal, especially the acid rain. The Company has used the rain as a way to execute prisoners, if I remember right.

[She pauses, quiet for a moment while she absently flicks through the files her A.I. have stored.]

But it's an ideal place for criminals or anyone that needs to hide. Provided they have the equipment to filter out the toxins.

[digophelia]

[ Alice says nothing, at first.

The fear of returning back to the asylum on Westerly was such a powerful thing that it kept her on Westerly. ]

I hadn't realized-

[ Just the thought of Westerly terrified her. She couldn't walk away after hearing this, not after that. Alice drew a breath and turned to face him. ]

And you want my help?

[ She was certain that she didn't have any valuable skills, except- ]

Then when do you plan on leaving?

[ except something that not even her close associates would know. ]

[digophelia]

I feel as if that the people here don't like me.

[ Alice confesses as she slowly trudges back to collect more. ]

I haven't asked for help from them; I know what their answer will be.

[ She's a quiet, reserved girl that keeps to herself outside of any major Leithian towns. While she hasn't heard any distinct whispers from those around her, only a few looks from some, Alice is a bit paranoid that she'll make the situation worse if she interacts with them. ]

But it's all right, I've collected so much on my own, already. No one has thought to go through some of these things to make sure they're still good. I can't have too second-hand things. They deserve the best that we could give them.

[ Interestingly enough, Alice doesn't outright reject his offer to help her. ]

If you like to help me move things, you may, Mr. Jack. But I ask you not to overburden yourself too much.