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

ota! leith and westerley

[demonly]

week 5 - leith, charity gala

[ Ever since everything happening with Westerley became apparent to Rin, it was as easy as breathing for him to get involved with recovery efforts - even if small efforts like the charity drives don't really feel as if they are enough to him. He can't help but feel very empathetic towards the Westies, spending pretty much every ounce of his free time outside of his job and his responsibilities at the Monastery at charity drives.

Or in this case, charity galas. Which would explain the overly awkward looking young man who looks just a bit too out of place at something so fancy. Despite being a Leithian, it's clear that this is not his comfort zone; his back is stiff and his idea of "nice clothes" is clearly not in alignment with the rest of the well-to-do Leithians attending, his clammy hands gripping a bit too hard on the silver tray of colorful treats he was assigned to hold. He's only here to work though, so what can he do!! He's desperate to find someone to help so he doesn't have to fidget around stressing about etiquette or whatever else these people keep talking about. ]

You - Do you want any of this? It's free and I'm supposed to give 'em out.

[ It would be obvious that these refreshments are free to anyone who has ever attended a party like this, but let him live. ]

week 6 - westerley, good will corps

[ Galas and charity drives were all nice and good but to him, helping out meant actual, real work. Which is what led him on a ship with its course set for Westerley - and by proxy, led him to an outskirt dusty street, the scars of the riots evident on the pavement. There's broken glass and heavy things to be lifted out of the way, which he's more than capable of - slung around his shoulder is a bag full of rations and equipment for (minimal) first aid - making it clear that he is there on the mission. Need a band-aid or your door put back in place after being kicked down during the riots? Here's your guy. ]

week 6 - westerley, peace summit

[ It's a bit comical to see someone of Rin's average stature carrying so many boxes of supplies on top of each other, balancing them a bit precariously as he (attempts) to bring them near the rest of the pile. It's been a long day of loading and unloading things that the Leithians had brought in order to aid - rations, medicine, things of that sort. So it's only a matter of time before the box at the top slides off and comes to crashing fall onto the dusty ground, bags of emergency rations spilling out of it as he winces and steadies the rest of the stack in his arms. ]

Could ya get that for me? [ He looks around quickly to make sure no super-important official had seen him fumble like that. ] I don't think anything broke, but I don't wanna get yelled at.

[ There's a pleading look in his eye, his eyes shifting around as if he's gonna somehow be fired and sent back home over a box of saltines and water bottles. ]

wildcard

( aaand obligatory I'm cool with anything else prompt! his plotting comment is here or you can pm this account/hit me up on ishimarus! )

w6

[inksplashes]

Who'd have the heart to yell at you?

[ The tone is bemused and honeyed, a hint of laughter beneath it. Lavi stands, hands in his pockets, gun at his thigh and badge on his arm, all the markings of a fine security officer--except for that grin. His mouth is a curve of good humor and affection, his visible eye lightly creased with the effort. (You have to make sure your smile touches your eyes or people will know you hate them.)

This time, at least, he doesn't have to perform mental acrobatics to make his smile less of a lie. He's glad--albeit surprised--to see Rin, the young almost-scarback a warm and pleasant companion compared to his more sanctimonious brothers and sisters.

(Lavi likes those as well, albeit in a different way. A sharper, colder kind of affection, the way historians think fondly of war.)

Carefully, slowly, he bends down the ground with as little strain put on his ribs as possible, though there's a faint wince for the effort regardless. He feels like he has more stitches than his clothes in moments like this, but it doesn't do anything to diminish his joy at seeing Rin or willingness to help. Just makes him a little slower than he'd like.

He gathers as many rations as he can, groaning with the effort to stand back up and move them to the now emptied box. ]

Man, they must not play many drinking games at the temple, huh?

[ Learning to balance unlikely objects is a time-honored tradition of the drunk and social, after all. Or maybe that's just him. ]

[demonly]

[ Rin mirrors Lavi's smile at his comment, always happy to see the other and also not exactly expecting to see him here either. Then again, Rin barely had expectations when he came to Westerley - it had been a long while since he'd last traveled off Leith and coming here to Westerley reminded him almost too much of his origins. But keeping busy had been helping with that, and definitely seeing someone he feels fondly towards is a big distraction. ]

Ya getting too old to lift even a few bags of crackers? [ He catches the slight wince in Lavi's stride, and confronts it head on like he does most things - but makes sure not to prod. Lavi would know from years of dealing with Rin's confrontational and empathetic self that he likes to show he cares, even if it's in blunt and abrupt ways. But instead of bothering the other too much about it, he just deposits the large stack of boxes to their intended destination, the stack taller than Rin himself. ] Maybe reading all those books is aging ya faster than normal.

[ If that were the case, Rin will be young forever. ]

And I had everything under control. [ Totally! Only one out of the five boxes he was carrying fell. ] I don't need to play drinking games to know how to carry stuff.

[inksplashes]

Who're you calling old, huh?

[ He puffs his chest in a show of mock offense, though it does't have him moving any faster for it. Lavi is entirely too practiced with weathering injuries to let pride get the better of him so easily.

(Once, when he was younger, he'd been a little less cautious. The lesson had been imparted by a bullet embedded deep in his skin, poisoning his veins. A childhood memory that flashes now in rebuke for any rash decisions.)

Attempting to hold a serious expression, he goes on to scowl at Rin... for about ten seconds before his grin breaks through and he laughs, shaking his head softly. ] If books aged you then I think you'd still be in diapers, hm?

[ Shade level: booknerd.

Lavi understands the roundabout question of the taunt, though, and waves a hand to dismiss any concerns as he stoops to sweep more of the rations up in his arms. This time, he's mindful not to wince despite the pain of it. ]

Piece of advice: don't ever get between a hot girl and her angry boyfriend. He'll be fine eventually though.

[ And by "hot girl" he means Qreshi elite and by "angry boyfriend" he means rabbles of bandits in the Badlands. They're close, right? ]

When'd you get here anyway?

[demonly]

Hey, not you too!! How come everyone has to bother me so much about that, I've read a book...recently...

[ Not everyone had the privilege of going to school and or having the time to study. It wasn't exactly at the top of Rin's priority list to read the Quad's classics. He gives a convincing pout, eyeing the other as he leaned down before crouching down to help him too...something about how Lavi acted about hiding his pain and other feelings vaguely reminded Rin of someone else, but he couldn't put his finger on it. ]

I came here with the Good Will Corps two days ago. I tried helping at the drives and galas but it was all kinda weird - I'm probably better at this stuff. [ He dumps his share of the rations into the box, inspecting the box itself to make sure it wasn't broken in any way. ] Yer probably here for...work? Or getting inbetween more hot girls and stuff?

[inksplashes]

[ "Recently" meaning within this lunar calendar, Rin? Hmmmm??

Still laughing, a soft, melodic sound that rattles from his aching ribs, Lavi pauses when the other reaches down, a momentary lapse at the way Rin is looking--but it's there and gone in the space of a moment.

His brows furrow in concern, but he says nothing for it. Standing once he has as many ration packs in his arms as they'll hold (it's unpleasant to keep doing this, after all), he joins Rin at the box, eyeing the goods warily. He smiles at the idea of Rin at the galas, the social graces and etiquette of them likely as daunting as it was frustrating to the young man. Poor kid. Even Lavi has a hard time not telling people at those parties to screw off sometimes.

He waves a hand, expression turning mildly sly. ]

On a good day, my work is entirely about getting between hot girls. Several of them.

[ He's literally never had that kind of day, but he can dream...! ]

But most of the girls here have scary security details. [ Heavy sigh. ] So I'm stuck with you...and some Company bigwig who pays well. Life is suffering, kid.

[demonly]

[ At least within the last...year....

Now that the rations are cleaned from the floor, Rin lifts the box easily, considering both that it was a fraction of the weight he was carrying previously, and that he was as strong as an ox. He stretches to place it on the top of the others, listening to the other talk all the while - the mention of the Company doesn't exactly make him flinch but it does make his shoulders tense a bit as he comes down from the stretch, pulling a face because ew, Company cooties. ]

Or, ya could just ditch that lame job and work with us instead. [ Why work for high pay for the smelly Company when you could do volunteer work with your friend??? ] There's normal chicks here and everything!!

[inksplashes]

[ An adorable ox, yes. Lavi is all big brother beaming, leaving Rin to do the not-so heavy lifting and dusting his hands off on his thighs as if he's just completed a full day's labor in the sun.

Being old is hard, kid. You get winded so easily..

(He doesn't miss that tension, but it's not something to comment on lightly or tease about, so he lets it pass without remark. Frankly, Lavi is surprised there aren't more people reacting that way, but he supposes a Peace Summit attracts the better liars of the Quad.) ]

Hm... work for free with normal chicks..

[ Considering look. ]

Nah, I'll take the well-paying job, I think. Plus, what have I told you? Crazy chicks are where it's at

[ Lavi you are a helpless virgin, cease and desist. ]

[demonly]

Fine, I see how it is, leave me here by myself so you can go hang out with chicks and Company workers...

[ Yes, those are crocodile tears in his eyes and a petulant frown on his face. Rin is just being an immature baby, but it's not like he actually expects Lavi to drop everything and work here. People had to do different things to get on in life and even it's well known within the Monastery that he has beef with the Company, he's too nice of a person to hold it against someone he considers close to him. ]

What are ya doing specifically anyway? Ya better make serious money.

[ Since Rin is literally making 0 for being here!!! ]

[inksplashes]

[ Yeah, boy it must be hard to imagine why he'd choose hot girls and a paying job over altruism with a bunch of dudes in gold robes!!!

At least, that's the expression he wears in response to that reptilian grumbling, smiling wide with a faint hint of apology and exasperation. There are few positions that offer the same level of unfettered access that Lavi has which wouldn't fall under distinct political lines. ]

Oh man, I'm making a ton. Just gotta guard a pretty boy director of something.

[ ...actually, he's making a lot less than most warrants of this grade offer, but its value is well beyond monetary sums. He gets a front row seat to the political machine of the Quad, what more could a Bookman want?

(A less complicated friendship with his partner, less bullets, et cetera...)

Lavi reaches over, long hand placed atop Rin's black mane to ruffle it. ]

Maybe you should become a killjoy too. You could join my team and everything. You'd be our Rinrin in the pocket!

[demonly]

[ His eyes squint shut at the hair ruffling, pulling his head away in a childish ewww, stop treating me like a kid way. ]

Me? A Killjoy? Yeah, right. [ As fun as it would be to be able to hang out with Lavi more, he's pretty sure he's neither smart enough nor...morally detached enough for Killjoy work. He's not even sure he fully understands everything that being a Killjoy entails. Plus, who's gonna be the neighborhood grocery boy if not him? ] I just barely got a job outside of sweeping Monastery floors and picking weeds.

But if I came along with ya on missions and stuff, at least ya wouldn't ever have to worry about going hungry. Yer so skinny.

[ Rin gives him a gentle poke in the stomach, careful not to touch his ribcage. ]

[inksplashes]

[ Excuse you Rin?! He can't help that he has Anime Metabolism and eats three bowls of food but looks two steps from malnutrition anyway!!

Leveling a mock-glare at the offending finger, Lavi squirms as much as a stitched together midsection allows him, batting at the hand and launching a counter-poke. ]

Look who's talking! All that monk-food needs more fat in it, you're gonna disappear you get any skinnier.

[ ..and then a dramatic pause and sigh, head hanging. ]

It's so hard, Rin...

..all he ever wants to eat is soba...

[ Life is suffering. ]

At least if I had a partner like you, I'd get different kinds of beansprout..

[demonly]

Eh? Nuh-uh, I'm way less skinny than you cuz yer all stretched out and stuff!!

[ He does his best to dodge the poking, covering his tummy and laughing a bit as the other sighs. It sounded hard enough to be a Killjoy but he can't imagine having to only eat soba all the time on top of that too. ]

Maybe ya should like, try that trick people do for kids who don't like vegetables when they try to hide the vegetables as other dishes. But for soba! [ Is it even possible to disguise other foods as soba??? ] Do you really have to eat whatever your partner has all the time though?