Chapter 4

[thenine]

Who: OTA
Where: Quad
When: Week VI, Day VII - Week IX, Day I
Summary: Chapter 4 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.

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The Nine
The Company
Westies
Leith
Resistance
The RAC

The Nine: Ballroom Politics

Delle Seyah Kendry herself has sent a message to all with Qreshi citizenship. She calls them to a gathering of her own inception, a gala for the affluent few to spend a leisurely three days adrift in orbit. The invitation includes the ship's parameters, sure to comfort or entice any member of the nobility with expected and lavish accommodations, as well as a personal note of interest. It's been too long since everyone was together to discuss their pursuits, their thoughts, their projects… Invitations sent to: Crowley, Rhys, Sui Feng, Hanzo, Hanbei, & Royce On the surface, the event is a extravagant social soiree, but the undercurrent is clear. With the Peace Summit concluded, it's time to find an actual solution to the unrest in the streets. What house Kendry seeks is a move that benefits all members of the Nine, something that solidifies their position and ensures more years of prosperity. House Simms agrees, their pandering to the powerful Kendry family only intensifying. While there are some - perhaps land Hyponia - who disagree, their voices are hushed, few willing to lose life or estate for the common man. The cruiser hosting the event has three levels. The highest houses an opulently decorated hall, repurposed throughout the day for banquets, entertainment, and mingling. Only the finest food and hokk will be served, and those attending may also sample delicacies from the reaches of the J as they converse. As days drift into nights the lights will dim, long dining table replaced with smaller stands on which the elite can amuse themselves with the newest tech, including a gambling interface. The middle floor houses personal rooms, each containing a king sized bed with too many pillows, a walk in shower, a full kitchen, a stocked minibar, and a fully equipped entertainment room. Communication between rooms has been installed as full-scale holograms, and a mere voice command activates all tech within. The lower deck, housing the bridge of the ship and all workers’ quarters, is not advertised for visitation. Heirs and family heads alike will be in attendance, mingling through the ambling guests to speak with the most important, or the most concerning, individuals. Such a party would be woefully unenjoyable without proper security, and several warrants requesting RAC agent service have been placed. A high-paying position, any Killjoy who attends will need to dress formally and keep their gaze narrow. Some among the aristocracy may wish to speak with them - to ask for favors - but any conversations will be carried out with utmost secrecy. For the spaces warrants could not fill, Company enforcers have been summoned to bolster the event's protective forces. The higher within the Company, the less surreptitious one needs to be to chat with the Qreshi. However, having a distinguished Company pedigree doesn't guarantee any contact aside from being asked to dispose of something (or someone) for the good of the Nine.

The Company: Training Day

A divide has begun to form within Company ranks, and those at the top are loathe to see such cracks being driven into their foundation. Though the riots are growing more subdued, the lack of a 'unified' approach to street patrol has inspired action. Model Company officials will receive either a promotion or higher clearance for access to equipment. There is no mention of violence or brutality in the messages each receives to alert them of their bonus, the expectations of continued service acting as implicit reinforcement. Company officials who approached the malcontent populace with what have been officially labeled "high risk" methods - plainly stated, with mercy - will be notified of a different sort of reinforcement. Those who require acclimation training will be paired with an officer the Company can trust to exercise appropriately severe punishments, and sent to a volatile area. The location differs by assignment, but each has in common the hostility of its community. Spitting, jeering, and sudden attacks are to be expected by anyone wearing Company issued gear. All patrol, arrest, or recon missions in these areas will prove to be a battle against the Westie citizens who reside there. Not intending to lose members of their workforce, the Company does expect success and will not set any team up for deadly failure, but kindness on the part of any officers in the area will likely be met with suspicion or revulsion by the people, and possibly a report to upper by their partner. In a completely different sphere, officers who caused the Company figures of damage - or just a financial headache - will be assigned to stress training. The process is available to any employee, should they wish to opt in and kiss ass have something nice to put on their resume. A debriefing outlines that those participating in the training will board a vessel with a partner and be launched into orbit. The ship will have several interface and mechanical failures - all carefully monitored by the Company control below, of course - over the course of the simulation. Officers are required to land the ship despite these errors, and will be evaluated on their technique, teamwork, and attitude. Unbeknownst to all participants, the small ship will also contain three spider-type bots that will activate once in orbit and scatter over the framework of the vessel. They will trip alarms, project voices, and interface with the system to cut communication. The last any participant will hear from ground control is, "What's happening up there!?", an urgent final message sent before the true observation begins. Characters granted higher weapons clearance: Giovanni, Jack, Sui Feng, Hijikata, Hanzo, Juvia, Fenris Characters assigned acclimation training: Julius, Nyx, Shiro, Sion, Rhys Characters assigned stress training: Giovanni, Hijikata, Shiro Aside from the Company's inner workings, the world has not stopped spiraling deeper into chaos. Some enforcers may be requested as security at the Qreshi convocation, serving both abroad the actual pleasure ship and patrolling around it. Others may find their battle with the streets of Westerley dragging on as organized crime rises alongside the Resistance cells. Gangs threaten Company officials and average citizens alike, looting bars, sacking shops, and carrying out their own executions. Agree with the Company's blame of the Resistance, or see the gangs for the opportunists they are - either way, one thing is clear: The streets of Westerley are unsafe.

Westies: Karma Police

Cries for justice have distorted, shouts becoming incomprehensible as the dawn breaks on an otherwise calm Westerley morning. The riots that had become almost commonplace have dwindled, crowds thinning as the days drag on. Yet the violence that accompanied such frenzied backlash continues. It's not unusual to see a beaten and broken man lying motionless on the sidewalk as one makes their way throughout their day, bloodstains on the street coloring nearly every path through Old Town. The disenchanted have splintered. Some have returned to work, looking to keep their heads down and their necks safe from trouble. Some have taken a more subversive approach, fading into the shadows as the Resistance receives a new wave of sympathizers and participants. Some bask in the chaos, taking advantage of the upheaval to assert themselves, and their gangs, as a new authority on the street. Company enforcers remain pervasive, their patrols constant and their responses brutal, but they are no longer the only danger. Every abandoned safehouse, every street corner, and every back alley has become someone's territory. Lines drawn in the gravel are frequently contested, skirmishes between rival groups a common but insular backdrop to the violence teeming in the city. Though all gangs have different expectations, different eccentricities, they share a brash hatred for the Company. With growing frequency, establishments that serve Company officials will find themselves ransacked. Windows broken and goods stolen in the night, or the owner run out and beaten on the street, no venue can guarantee its safety without turning away those in Company attire. For some, even that is not enough. Speak too gently of the Company and one may find themselves labeled a sympathizer, subject to jeering or beating with little provocation. The question, How do you feel about the Company, asked by both enforcers and crime rings alike, is impossible to answer without earning at least one enemy.

Leith: Changing Winds

The winds of change howl across the Leithian landscape. The actions of the True Leithians have set events into motion that start to propel the usually relatively peaceful moon into the kind of unrest that's more common to its neighbors. As land reallocation continues, the upper classes of Leith start to resist the pull of charity. Where Leithians were content enough to provide aid to Westerley before, it's more difficult for that generosity to continue as their own coffers start to diminish. The relief efforts that the poorest of Westerley had relied on come nearly to a halt, because Leith is drawing away to protect themselves in the chaos. After all, chaos is starting to seep into Leith too. As donations slow, the Westerlen workers start to show their own unrest as their families and friends at home suffer for the slowed aid and the decreasing prospects of their own work. Leith's relationship with its Westie workers has always been tense, but it's never bubbled to the surface so much as this. The Resistance is quiet, but growing louder even on Leith. The market is often surrounded by workers striking, and Leith struggles to contain the protests. While a few unruly workers could be dealt with by a farm alone, hundreds of them forces those same farms to listen. Without their Westerlen labor, there's no one to tend to the farms and harvest the valuable crops that Leith provides to the Quad. The Leithian farmers may have to listen to the protests of their workers, but they wait, cutting off pay for those that refuse to work in a tactic to try and force them back to work. However, where some return to the farms reluctantly, it only makes the anger burn hotter for others. A massive field belonging to one of the biggest producers of Hokk in the Quad is torched, and the fire and smoke can be seen for miles. Ash falls on nearby towns like rain, and while the Qreshi fret over a shortage of their favorite Hokk, the people of Leith and Westerley both know that this is the start of something more dangerous on Leith. Rumor has it that the fires may have been started not by a Westie, but a rival Leithian, and with no one to conclusively blame, everyone bears the suspicion and distrust. Those disappearances that had effected only a select few associated with the True Leithians increase, but Leith itself doesn't complain too loudly. In the streets, Leithians seem oblivious or ignorant to what's coming, but they know. They only hope that so long as they pretend in public that everything is fine, maybe peace will return to their home.

Resistance: Power Vacuum

Hyperion becomes a whisper, a phantom looming in the background noise of discontent conversations and secrets kept. Some say it's a single person, a man of strong pedigree and polished cuticles, while others speak of a woman clothed in midnight black with a piercing stare that strikes through the heart of a man. Others yet suggest that it's not a person but many, a group of shadow puppeteers who offer direction.. but at what price? While rumors swirl and build into the myth of the Hyperion groups, rival factions rise to fill the empty spaces. For some, it's an ideological clash: whoever Hyperion is, they're too well-funded and connected to truly be of the people, too secretive and selective to warrant the trust of those who risk life and limb for sedition. For others--most, really--it's a matter of power hunger, groups forming and striking out to take control of the scattered members of the Resistance while the mysterious Hyperion remains an intangible figure. Unity, they say, in this time of division. They say it in town meetings and raids, in private conversations and public--albeit careful--demonstrations, using the cover of Westerley's rising gangs to cast shadow on their movements. As is often the case with politics, what they say and what they mean are quite different. While these different groups call for togetherness, they seek subordination and compliance to their respective ideas and goals going forward. Some call for violent uprisings, others aim for organized strikes and legislative pressure, and others still seek a peaceful but complete abolition of the current monarchy class. Each spreads their own propaganda in coded pamphlets and messages sent across the Meshwork, and though they agree on little, they are, indeed, unified on at least one common goal: The Nine must fall. In the meantime, though the focus of those outside of Hyperion's reach drifts, Hyperion teams continue to receive missions and intel, each cell working on a singular component for some great machination of change. Hyperion cites its compartmentalization as a means of protection--should one cell fall, the loss can be contained to those secrets and plans alone--but a closer look at each division's missions will offer a slightly more tarnished future than the one Hyperion claims to build. It's a war, even if the people on the streets don't realize they're fighting in it just yet, and in war... there are always acceptable losses. Collateral damage to be tallied and disregarded for the greater good. The Nine will fall, broken bone by broken bone.

The RAC: Level Grinding

As always, agents will have their hands full as the juggling jesters of the Quad's court, tasked with keeping the various factions served and satisfied with their contracted work. Between acting as guards for the Qreshi envoy, cleaning the streets of the detritus corpses left in the wake of the riots, and the monthly warrants, there's no shortage of work for the killjoy who's looking. And there's more killjoys than ever, at that. Following the lower level evaluations, a new score of Level 4 agents arrives on the scene, eligible--and potentially willing--to form new teams. With this advancement in rank comes new opportunities that span beyond the potential for awesome buddy-cop movies: higher level warrants that pay better and offer increased access to otherwise off-the-books missions. Will you band with your graduating class to knit powerful units and make your mark on the J star cluster? Or do you prefer to remain the lone wolf figure in this otherwise disparate organization? Maybe you have you sights set higher than that. Maybe you want to go for the top tier of the RAC and make yourself a Level 5. While it's generally thought that only those agents who have proven themselves as Level 4s are afforded the opportunity to advance, it's not strictly a requirement. Whether that fourth notch in your killing belt is fresh or well-worn, the Level 5 evaluations are open season, but not unfettered. Indeed, while any Level 4 is elgible to try their hand at the highest ranks, those who hold the most tenure will have a far easier curve to ascend than their less experienced counterparts. Competition will be fierce and the opportunity for advancement strictly regulated based on not mere skill, but psychological stability and past performances. Any mark left in the records of an agent can and will become leverage against them when they enter Level 5 evaluations. The evaluations, at least, are similar in construction to the lower-level missions, albeit with far greater danger. The evaluating agent must carry out a Level 5 warrant--with his or her team, if applicable--but rather than having the guidance of a senior agent to shape their path, they'll be monitored and observed with real time telemetry from RAC HQ. The results will thereafter be analyzed by the RAC's top brass and released for viewing in Chapter 5. With competition fierce and the test itself a life or death scenario, agents will need to utilize any advantage they can in order to come out ahead. Cultivating their contacts and gathering the necessary resources isn't just a strong recommendation for these killjoys but an implicit requirement for a successful promotion. That's not the only unspoken requirement. Whispers begin to circulate throughout HQ that certain palms have opened for greasing and can facilitate a smoother evaluation for the right price. Open discussion of the rumors is strictly prohibited and strongly punished, but for the cunning and sly.. ...any attempt to bribe those palms will be met with an automatic failure and subsequent investigation into the killjoy's past endeavors. Those individuals rumored to offer grace in exchange for joy are among the RAC's most loyal and stalwart class of senior agents, purposefully placing themselves within the public eye in order to draw out the rats of the organization. The warrant is all.

Comments

[demonly]

[ He's thankful for the help - really, he is - but he can't help but notice the other's uniform, eyes flickering to the golden emblems that shined brilliantly in comparison to his own dull clothes while he gathered his own share of the fallen rations. It makes him wary, but he decides against making that obvious so long as the other isn't hostile. ]

Um, thanks, but... [ His brows furrow, not yet taking the bar from the other. Something felt a little wrong about accepting help from Company when he's been protesting against them all this time. The fact that the other is readily handing out food like this definitely sets him apart from everyone else Rin's come into contact with recently on Leith - all of which have been trying to hoard as many things as they can early on. ] Yer not gonna keep that to yourself? Ya must have a lot of 'em.

[sunderings]

[ Altogether, he is used to it, for the disfavor from the public at large is the crux to bear for all those affiliated with the Company, regardless of their reason for why. And so, if the boy before him should be guarded, it is only to be expected—Sion certainly cannot lay blame upon another's shoulders when Leith has burned (now, for a second time, fires rising in protest of both the Company and of the Nine) and people suffer needlessly for it. But--...

That does not mean things cannot change. Accepting as he is of civilian wariness and distrust (and of worse, for Westerley where he is primarily stationed is fraught with anti-Company sentiment and violence both), by taking it onto his own two shoulders, he hopes that he might at least garner a moment to speak to someone. To anyone, be they a monk, a miner, a shopkeep, or Killjoy, because it is only through talking that the protests, insurrection, and all the terrible things wrought by the Company might come to a peaceful end.

Achieving understanding is key, and that is why Sion cants his head to the side with a gentle smile, a knowing glance. ]

I do not need to eat as often as others do. [ There is no lie in the statement, but for all that the Director is candid about the fact, he cares not to elaborate upon it, instead continuing on: ] What's more... I will be given new rations tomorrow when I return to the command post.

So please, take it, it would set my mind at ease.

[ Here, his eyes crinkle at their corners with a measure of fondness— ]

My elder sister was once of the Monastery, and I am happy to help where I can.

[demonly]

[ At the mention of the other's relative, he takes the bar (albeit reluctantly), staring hard and watching Sion's expression. ]

There's people here on Leith and out there on Westerley that are gonna need those more than me. [ Even though this gesture could've made Rin angry that he was being pitied or that Company folk thought that giving out the small rations they had would absolve them of guilt or somehow mend the numerous offenses he'd witnessed, but...something about this Company person was different than the others he'd come across. ] I don't know if ya should feel at ease giving out one ration to someone ya don't even know.

[ Maybe that makes him sound ungrateful, but he's never been one to hide the way he feels too much, unless completely necessary. ]

You're Company then, right? That's how ya have access to all these?

[sunderings]

[ The boy is frank, unafraid to speak his peace, and in response, the Director himself bears only the most open countenance, his head canting to the side as a smile—compassionate, apologetic, warm—curves his lips, gentling his features, because--... ]

I am not looking for absolution, Uncle. [ It is true, they do not know one another beyond the clothes which they wear, but Sion chooses to have faith, not in prayer beads or Scarback robes, but in people themselves: ] I am at ease because I know you will pay the goodwill forward, and help others in turn.

[ People here on Leith and out there on Westerley are gonna need these more than me, the boy has said, and there is no doubt in the Director's mind that those are the words of someone who will always give aid to those in need of it. And while Sion had taken his leave of his station on Westerley to investigate and to quell the rioters behind the fires eating away at Liethian farmland, so too does he believe it past time that the Company, the Nine, offer their own contributions to those areas devastated first by plague, and now by famine.

When he returns to the command post, he will present an entreaty and report to his superiors (and more than that, if the plea should be poorly received). ]

Even without the ration, I believe you would do this, but... I want for you to know that there are those within the Company who share this sentiment of yours.

[ The ones voiced in the protests and the outpour of anger which fed them. ]

I promise you, I will do all within my power to aid Leith and Westerley both, for that is the very reason I chose to stay within the Company's employ.

[ Though it is not why he joined. ]

[demonly]

I'm no Uncle, just a kid of the Monastery... [ He mutters, understanding that it could be confusing that he is both Scarback and not, fidgeting with bag that held his produce. ] But ya don't have to worry about me paying it forward, monk or not.

[ The Monastery didn't raise him to not aid those in need after all!! Something about the way this person talked and acted confused Rin, just out of his rooted distaste for the Company colliding with his willingness to be compassionate to people who come from a different place from him. So, a little tension comes away from his shoulders - not because he suddenly trusts him but because some of the things he's saying actually make sense. Besides, if what he was saying was really true...he could only hope that not all Company were of the same opinion. But he'd believe it when he saw it. ]

If those Company folk that actually wanna help really exist, I hope they don't plan on laying low too long. I saw Westerley a few weeks ago, and now that Leith is like this...

[ Erupting in protests and literally on fire, he means. ]

Did you really come here to help Leith or were ya here to contain protests like the others I saw?

[sunderings]

Truth be told, I ventured here for a myriad of reasons, some of which are more selfish than others.

[ Giving pause, he searches out the boy's eyes, making to hold them with a gaze which is steady and clear. Trust is something which the Director does not expect, not from a single (two, three, or even more) interactions with someone (anyone) who had laid witness to the storm upon Westerley only to see it spread to Leith, but--... acceptance is a start. A good one. And Sion is glad to see a slight ease in the boy's posture. ]

Friends for whom I care dearly for have put themselves in the thick of the danger here, and I am here to help both them and others. [ To reach out to whomsoever he crosses paths with, because Sion Astal is a man who has never been able to ignore the suffering of the people before him. ] More than anything, the fires need to be put out. The voices of the protestors need to be heard, but the movement cannot be allowed to escalate into violence, lest...

[ Thoughtfully, and a little heavily, his eyes fall downcast, expression hooded by snowy lashes. ]

...everyone be hurt. We all must help one another, or we will fall together. Of this I am certain, as surely as I know you are not just a 'kid' of the Monastery.

[ In a small introduction of levity, Sion huffs lightly, considering the boy with a loft of his brow...! ]

You have a name, do you not? [ So then, what is it? ]

[demonly]

[ The mask covering a good portion of his face which most Leithians were now wearing due to the fire hid the worst of his recent personal experience with just how violent the protests could get, so he averts his eyes when he feels him looking at him so closely. ]

I'm Rin.

[ He gives a small pause, tone honest and blunt in a way that's less brash than before and more on the side of earnestness. ] I've met a lot of Company folk in my life but never someone like you. [ Whether that was good or bad, Rin wasn't sure just yet. All he knew was that it caught him off guard; he's come to associate Company folk with certain things and certain feelings and certain actions so meeting someone who questions that is - well, kind of confusing. If you asked him yesterday if he thuoght there were people in the Company that thought the protesters should be heard, the answer would be a definite no. ]

And yer supposed to be...?