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

w6d3 - and let me know if the assumed cr is off at all! 👌

[refactor]

[ It's been a while since Jack was on Leith, though that wasn't quite his decision. Considering how things had really gotten crazy over the past few weeks, he couldn't be surprised that travel had gotten restricted, but now that it's lifted? Boy is he glad. Westerley is pretty much a shithole, and it's not like he likes Leithians all that much, but at least Leith was nice to visit. When there was occasion for him to go to Leith, he was usually the first to take it, because a Company-sponsored "vacation" was pretty much the only time off he tended to get.

Visiting Leith now was pretty predictable, at least on the surface. He was here for the Peace Summit, not as a participant (the Company wasn't inclined to let someone as hot-headed as Jack speak on their behalf), but just as an observer. He would rather be more active, but hell, if he got to go? Why not. It was going to effect his work either way.

That, and he has other reasons to be here. But no one knows of those. No one ever will know, if he has his way.

As Alice collects donations, Jack is wandering in the area, and he sees her hard at work. He pauses to watch for a moment, just observing as he's meant to do, but it's with a light smile. He knows the girl, knows a bit about her deal, because it had come across his desk once upon a time. He had a soft spot for it, all things considered, and though he had never explained why, he did try and make a point when he was on Leith just to see her and see how she was doing. It was little more than being acquaintances, but he knew her.

He also knows her well enough that when Jack sees her stubbornly struggling with a box, that's what he takes as his cue to approach. He walks up and announces himself with a laugh. ]

Looks like you're havin' some trouble, kiddo. Need some help?

[digophelia]

[ As it stands, Alice is still a stubborn girl and refused any sort of aid from anyone who offered to help her. She even came close to snapping at a few, especially older men that seemed to fret over her more than anyone else. Honestly, it made her feel like a child and she was certain her small frame didn't help.

She was, at least, strong for how small she was. She trekked a long distance, but her height was still getting the better of her, Alice finding it impossible to carry beyond what she could see beyond her feet and over the boxes. It's Jack's voice that actually has Alice stopping altogether as her arms began to shake from the strain of carrying boxes.

While Alice had brushed off every person that offered her help, Jack was different. He seemed to be the only one that knew about her family's tragedy (with the exception of Steinbeck) that seemed to not have an ulterior motive. he couldn't possibly see most of her expression behind the box; rest assured, it was a somewhat disheartened one. She was close-- well, not so much, she had several yards to go and she was getting tired.

The lack of sleep didn't help, either. ]

Mister Jack.

[ She had a feeling that Jack wouldn't take "no" for an answer -- he was just as persistent as others that she knew. ]

You can take a box if you like.

[ Alice would still insist on carrying at least one to save face from the fact that she simply couldn't see. ]

[refactor]

[ The recognition gets him to smile, as if he were expecting her not to, for some reason. It does fit well enough with having the offer for help accepted, and he takes the last few steps forward to take some of the boxes out of her hands. He at least lets her have two instead of just the one, though that's likely just because the rest were what was easier for him to take from her. ]

There we go—

[ His voice takes on a mild note of strain as he lifts them and speaks at the same time, but it's also quickly gone once he settles with them in his arms. ]

Tryin' to take 'em all at once, huh? [ He has to comment on her overly ambitious task, but he nods generally ahead as he adds a playful, half-teasing comment. ] Well, whatever, I gotcha. Lead the way, boss.

[digophelia]

[ She is not the type to admit that it feels a bit better and being able to see is a plus. Not only that, the odd looks she gets from other Leithians will be, at least, minimal if someone else is in her presence. As stubborn as she is, she does offer a soft "thank you". Alice cannot say she does find herself absolutely trusting him; there is not much she knows about him.

She does have deep respect for him, which is why she will not give him her usual icy or abrasive greetings. ]

I wanted to prove that I could carry them all on my own. [ She fully admits this to Jack while feeling somber about her minor failure.] I know that I'm- [ Height impaired? Short? Very short. ] not as present as others.

[ What she wouldn't give to be tall as other women. She moves pretty quick, scurrying over to others who are loading up the donations after it being sorted. Alice drops the box where she had purposefully separated for children. ]

I was meaning to put it here. There will be a completely separate transport solely for children's things.

[ Which Alice, of all people, seems so confident when she lacks so much of it. She was up to something in the midst of the Peace Summit and for the most part, was completely independent in implimenting it. ]

[refactor]

[ At least if nothing else, Jack is genuinely helpful. While he might give some people a hard time, he's always a bit softer when comes to girls. It wasn't a well-known fact, but it wasn't that hard to figure why if someone were to curiously go digging. The fact that he had lost a daughter (or so the record says) makes him a bit more... tolerable. So he follows her obediently with an easy smile, and it cracks into a playful grin at first. ]

Nahhh, it's no big. Carrying 'em all by yourself, eh, recruiting people to help you out? That's the real ticket to success, and, hey! You totally succeeded.

[ But, here's the spot, so Jack sets his boxes down carefully and with a small oof of effort. Once he's set them down, he stands back and dusts off his hands, though he looks to her as he speaks. ]

But, hey, it's the work that counts, y'know? Most people don't really give a crap, I swear— So, I mean, it's gonna be appreciated, I'm sure.

[ Jack sets his hands on his hips with a small shrug. ]

So, I mean, if you're needin' help movin' stuff, totally have some time to burn here. I'm here as an "observer"—whatever that's supposed to mean—so can at least contribute my super buff skillset.

[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.

[refactor]

[ That confession gets Jack to pay her a little more attention, less focused on himself and his own words, since he's sympathetic to that. It immediately pulls at his heartstrings, because for all his callousness and bluster, he's a sensitive guy underneath it. Just, you know. Sometimes it's hard for him to actually care about someone properly, and even then, it's not always to their benefit. His daughter was proof of that.

But he listens instead of talking, and by the time she accepts his offer, it's met with a friendlier grin instead of the cocky one he tends to normally sport. ]

Pfft, no worries about overburdening. This is why I work out! Gotta help people, right?

[ Or really, to be able to take on any unruly prisoners in Intake, but. That doesn't quite help his conversation here. ]

Anyways, I've got time to kill, so it's no big. I'll help you out if you just tell me what you need done.

[digophelia]

Yes.

[ And this is why Alice finds herself comfortable with Jack and his presence. With this support, Alice doesn't feel as lonely or disparaging. In turn, it boosts her confidence and Alice becomes visually more assertive.

As she sets back to her original "station", Alice turns back up to look at him. ]

Mister Jack, I would implore you not to push yourself too hard. This is quite a tiring task after a while, however-

[ Time to kill? That was fine; it would be her awkward way of gaining company without asking him outright. Alice was odd like that, allowing help and care for the sake of companionship. She could never really ask. ]

I'm sorting through donations for children and once I'm done for today, they'll be sent to shelters and orphanages for children. [ She's so proud. ] I could use help there.

[refactor]

Then you got it. I will sort the crap outta all these donations.

[ Which is definitely a very Jack way to put it, but he's nothing if not... colorful. But at least he's earnest in offering his help despite that, so he'll head over towards those donations to give them a look. Granted, he does kind of stand there with his hands on his hips as he looks at them, a bit unsure where to go from there. He's not exactly the most charitable person, so he'll have to gauge how she sorts things first to get an idea of what she's looking for. ]

You organize all this yourself, kiddo?

[ His question is genuinely curious, but there's a note that sounds a bit impressed in there too. Even if she hadn't, he's still kind of surprised to see her working this hard on it. It's nothing for Alice herself, but maybe it's just his own expectations that people might not want to help at all. ]

[digophelia]

Ah, well.

[ Not the most eloquent way to put it, she thinks. She quietly shuffles along finding it to be too impolite to point out that there wasn't any "crap" involved. Or how did he even define it? Just thinking about it too far made her head hurt.

Alice has spent most of her time here sorting and hadn't really paused to consider the amount that she's collected so far. When he asks her if it was all her work, she glances up, thinking it was a small collection. While it did help ease her stress and it was good for her to be preoccupied. ]

Me? [ Alice's hands remained paused as she prepared to go through another box. ] Oh, well, yes. No one else is gathering donations for children, except for me, I believe.

[refactor]

[ Don't bother thinking about it too hard, Alice. Jack's way with words is... uniquely his own. To put it nicely and lightly.

Her humble response gets Jack to smile a little more softly, and he takes a better look at what she's gathered now that he knows that it really is all her work. Now, granted, the whole helping the needy thing isn't really his thing, since he has his sights set quite a bit higher than that, but you know, respect where it's due. Someone has to, even if it's not him. He's just making the world safer for the needy. ]

Pretty impressive, y'know? If no one else is doing this, you've got yourself a niche market.

[ He speaks in business terms, but it's in jest. At this point, he thinks he has a hang of how she's sorting things, so he steps forward to help. ]

Hey, sure they'll appreciate it too. Kinda easy to focus on the big picture AKA adults, so taking care of the kids this way is, uh- Well, its' good. Obviously.

[digophelia]

Well...

[ His compliments get Alice a little flustered, in the way a parent would have their child in a fuss. It's a side she wouldn't show anyone else, not even to Steinbeck, how she hides behind her hair and looks sheepishly down in the box. ]

I- I wasn't really looking to find a niche in the market.

[ Or is he just talking Jack-speak once again. ]

I don't look for appreciation or praise, I feel terrible for them, you know? I know what it's like to lose a parent at such an early age.

[ And that thought is strangely more painful in Jack's presence. ]

It's easy to be forgotten in an adult's world.

[refactor]

[ It's definitely just Jack-speak, because he can never express anything like a normal person... Though at least underneath his unusual way of talking and of viewing the world, there's a nice sentiment there somewhere. Partially. He still can't help thinking of it in business terms, so her particular pick is also savvy to him, even if it wasn't quite intentional for that purpose. ]

Aww, what! C'mon, you can take credit for this, kiddo.

[ His grin is wide, but earnest rather than a sharp one that he seems to wear more often. He's a rough, vicious person, as he work in Intake easily showed, but it's not as if he doesn't have his softer moments. Clearly, she had an easier time pulling them out, since the enthusiasm of the smile does at least dim at her more somber sentiments. ]

—Yeah. That, uh- No, I get what you mean. [ He breathes out a sound that might be a laugh, but it's followed with a shrug. There are two things he could tell her here, and he knows they could help him relate to her, but... He doesn't. Jack is far too private and protective over his past, so those details have to be pulled out of him. But even so, with how he pauses to consider it for even a second, there's probably a sense that there's something more there for him to say that he doesn't. Instead, he turns the sentiment of the attention back to her. ]

I mean, it's a good reason for it. When you're puttin' it that way, I'm- Well, correct me if I'm wrong here, but super don't think I am, but guessing you kinda felt- feel that way yourself, so. [ It's blunt, as Jack tends to be, but being so straightforward isn't malicious, and that's clear. ] Hey, I figure trying to do better because you know how much it sucks is a hell of a good reason for anything. That's, uh, how I got into my line of work. More or less. Trying to make things better is always better than just living some kind of easy, cushy life, y'know?