Chapter 2

[thenine]

Who: OTA
Where: Quad
When: Week 2, Day 5 - Week 4, Day 6
Summary: Chapter 2 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.

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

The Nine: Poisoned Well

With the heir delivered and Lady Derrish returning to health, balance has been maintained amongst the Nine. Swift and efficient - and, some would say, unbelievable - medical attention administered may have steadied the Lady's life, but for those in the ruling houses, the atmosphere of tenuous peace only grows thicker. Land Kendry has launched an investigation - with particular focus on Land Hyponia - into the source of the 'attack' on Lady Derrish's health. Of course, that is only the surface, and some suggest, with hushed voices, that there may be more to Land Kendry's goals than to weed out an assailant. Land Hyponia has long since been in support of maintaining the Seventh Generation Accords, which it defends staunchly against any opposition. One of the most agitated among those in disagreement with the Accords is Land Kendry. Now is the perfect opportunity for them to rearrange the pieces in their favor, and with the information they've fabricated, they'll be able to replace the head of Land Hyponia with someone who is - at least hopefully - more pliable to their agenda. The Derrish have their own suspicions, the cure surfacing all too conveniently timed to have been a coincidence. When Land Kendry's investigation procures evidence pointing to Land Hyponia as the culprits, inflaming the crime with implied - yet vague - ties to the resistance, the Derrish publically accept the accusation. Behind closed doors, the solution seemed to have come as uncannily easily as the cure, and suspicions only rise. But for now, the two houses remain allied - ready to use one another for their own interests. For those among the nobility, it's the time to reevaluate alliances, assuring the old and gathering the new. The more support you have, the safer you are - unless, of course, you chose the wrong friend. Some turn to other members of the nobility, some to the RAC for hired guards, some to the Company to mandate investigations unsuitable for Killjoys, and some may even turn to the underbelly of society to accomplish anything necessary to stay on top. Or to simply stay alive.

The Company: Cleaning House

There will be no accolades, and no rest, for the hard working Company officials following the response to the True Leithan attacks. Assignments shift from one thing to the next, moving from bureaucratic nightmare to bureaucratic nightmare. While there’s always busy work to distract from the intrigue behind the scenes, it’s not liable to be any safer. Some officials will be charged with maintaining peace and order on Leith, as the outbreak of a pandemic slowly spreads over the moon. From helping the afflicted find their way to a place of treatment, to safe and efficient body disposal—burning corpses by the hundreds—to attempting to track down the source of the virus, it's best anyone assigned here take heed ‘lest they find themselves falling ill as well. Westerley, on the other hand, is a different kind of headache. With Harvest Week in swing, most company officials will be reaching for a drink of their own at the end of their shifts. Rowdy workers celebrating their time off, spending their hard earned Joy frivolously, and citizens whisked away by the atmosphere of celebration all mingle throughout Old Town. Property damage, fighting, less than subtle illegal activity, and crowding all become more of an issue than they usually are during this time. It's the perfect setting to lay down the law, or to not be noticed by it. On top of it all, each and every member of the Company's workforce can expect to have their documents double and triple-checked. Those with any suspected ties to Leith are likely to undergo a more serious investigation. One-on-one interrogations become common practice, and whether you're trusted or suspect, you may come face to face with a companion in your duties. True Leithan sympathizers are what the Company review is after, but anything else unturned will surely not be ignored. Cover your bases.

Westies: Harvest Week

Harvest week is in full swing throughout Westerley - visa workers have been shuttled back in droves from their time on Leithian farms, many of whom were willing to take some of their observations to information brokers for a price. Most had superficial information to sell (the state of unease on the average farm due to the impending Accords, the increased suspicion that the migrant workers were forced to endure, the fear of retaliation by the rebellion for the True Leithian attacks), others with reports of increased security and weapons caches on the farms of those whose sympathies lie with the “heroes” of the attack in Old Town. Old Town, however, is even more of a chaotic mesh of humanity with the mass influx of returning bodies. Bars stay busy day and night, the hokk and ale flow almost faster than most can keep up, and many Enforcers and Killjoys alike can make a good bit of extra joy (or free drinks) by moonlighting as security at the more popular locations. Despite all of the fun to be had, there is still the undercurrent of unrest, because Company checks have increased even more and Intake has become a revolving door of petty criminals being held for the smallest infractions. Everyone is on edge as the Resistance grumbles and the Nine search the shadows for something or perhaps someone. The unrest only worsens once Leith is placed under quarantine. And through it all, criminal activity is on the rise. Somehow, despite the strict regulation and transport of migrant workers, there is an increased access to Jakk and Bliss. Norn has an ever growing market, and weapons dealers are in high demand both in Eulogy and by private buyers alike. Something is brewing beneath the revelry, and no one wants to be caught unable to defend themselves, it seems. Not that any amount of firepower can defend against disease when P43X shows up on W3D7--but it can certainly make the symptoms worse.

True Leithians: Second Stage

Wounded and pressed to a corner, the beast rears its head and bares a maw of teeth and ruthless pursuit. The True Leithian organization does not take pause to mend wounds left in the wake of last week’s retaliation, no. They do not seek the comfort of safe haven and recovery. Instead they turn their anger and fear inward, sacrificing their own for what they believe to be the greater good. On Week 2, Day 6, three individuals slip into the crowds of Leith, mingling with the revelers and the families celebrating Harvest Week. They share smiles and laughter, they share conversation and drinks, but most importantly, they share infection. Each of the three is responsible for disseminating P43X, a viral bioweapon designed by Zan Nikora on behalf of the military in years past. During its conception, the aim of P43X was simple: to create a weapon which could demoralize and destabilize an entire population within a matter of days. To create madness that builds in the blood and eats into the brain, spreading through every tier of society. And though its use has long been out of commission, its engineer has lingered. Zan Nikora, kidnapped and held under threat of death not to himself but to those he holds dearest, is made to choose between the lives of his family on Westerley or the strangers on Leith. His choice is obvious, though far from easy. Reassembling the buried curse takes time, supplies, and testing. He is provided amply with the last two but scarcely with the first. But still he complies. When his madness maker is complete and his existence becomes a potential loose end, it’s not freedom that Zan Nikora tastes, but the poison of his own medicine. Only once the voices in his head have risen above whispers and turned to screams, when his mind can no longer hold secrets worth sharing, does he see his family again. It takes six days*. Six days and Zan Nikora stumbles through Old Town, eyes unseeing, mind riddled with disease—infection spreading. Mod Note: *W3D6. Cure and vaccines will be developed and disseminated beginning on W4D3, but will not be fully administered to all locations until W4D5.

Leith: Pocket Posies

Harvest Week in Leith marks a period of joy and relief. Bazaars are open longer, the ordinary bustle of the business day replaced with celebration and festivities throughout the evening hours. Vendors offer games for adults and children alike, the sky is a constant wash of soft pinks, purples, and greens from holographic firework shows, and music fills the air from different stages. All walks of life are welcome to join in the merriment, just so long as they have the right to be there. Anyone suspected of an invalid visa or citizenship papers are dealt with harshly, but quietly. Tucked away into the darkness of a holding cell like all of Leith’s more problematic elements. It is a time of peace and relief, this week, and they will not abide disruption. But within the hallowed days of celebration, a sickness grows, incubating. Spreading. First, it begins with an ache deep within the muscles. The body tires too quickly, the flesh burns with a blanket of rising fever. Whispers skirt at the edge of hearing, unintelligible but audible, filling the audio cortex with illusions and lies. Food loses its appeal, though the body yearns dearly for energy it cannot hold, and breathing becomes tighter, harder. Next the tide of high fevers, of lethargy. The brain devolves into paranoia and mania, the mind races with delusions and hallucinations. Pain follows, a pain that seems to emanate from every nerve without relief or pause, seeping through the muscles and aching within the very bones of a person. Some may wish for death, and for many, that wish will be granted in an unending sleep when the fatigue pulls darkness across the mind, plunges the last thoughts of a person into static slumber. But not all will succumb so readily, and therein is the weakness that ultimately shelved P43X during its initial creation. Its impacts are not uniform—while much of the population suffers dearly, most are sustained with timely medical interventions, and many others recover with the prowess of their own immune system. For Leith, bountiful in money and supplies, most of P43X’s more fatal properties are circumvented or delayed. But even in this lush world of affluence and peace, there are the poor, the underprivileged, and the weak. They are not afforded the same haste of care, the same salvation. Instead, they’re given graves of sanitizing fires, and their bodies turn to ash.

Resistance: Sleeping Dogs

The chaos of the festivities that go along with Harvest Week provides the perfect cover for the Resistance to begin moving once again. New cells need to be formed in the wake of so many executions and new members need to be recruited. Info brokers with Resistance-leaning sympathies have an opportunity to make a little extra joy by putting the disconnected sympathizers in contact with one another, aiding the vetting of Company insiders that need new handlers within the organization. For Resistance members already embedded within, they need to work now to find new locations to store what supplies remain and to begin rebuilding the stockpiles of weapons and supplies re-confiscated by the Company. Some may have heard of abandoned mines or facilities that can be retrofitted out in the Badlands while others are needed to track down rumors of Company made fallout shelters located within the under-city tunnels. For this, Company moles are essential - the only hope of accessing these shelters is with long forgotten Company passcodes. And the Scarbacks, well. Everyone’s heard rumors that there are many within their ranks willing to help with recruitment and contraband transportation, though there’s little the Company can do to restrict their movements at this time. Because of this, Scarbacks may also be the only ones that have a chance of getting into Leith once the quarantines go into effect. Those already aligned with the rebellion will be tasked with coordinating supply movements, making a deal or three with the devil on behalf of those unwilling to back down from the promises of the Accords. Caution and purpose should drive their movements because if the True Leithian attack is any indication… those nationalists are not going to let go of their precious land and status without a long, bloody fight.

The RAC: Holding Pattern

Warrants still flow in with a regular consistency - enough to keep the average team or agent quite busy. Every harvest season there are visa jumpers that need to be caught and low-level warrants claiming petty theft from farms by Westie migrants. The increasing number of disturbances and crimes in Old Town guarantee a plethora of local warrants to capture criminals across the moon or those that managed to escape an Enforcer’s arrest. Some, however, have either been requested by Seyah Kendry herself or volentold by their seniors within the RAC to conduct investigations into the attack on the Nine. And not all of these investigations are on the Lady’s behest. Some of the Nine aren’t quite willing to take Land Kendry’s word as law and have quietly requested their own investigations into the attack in Old Town and the Land Derrish misfortunes. (MOD NOTE: There will be a comment thread for teams to sign up for the specialized plot related warrants on the monthly warrant post, located HERE. Once teams have posted for a plot warrant, the mods will give them a location and focused assignment.)

Comments

[inksplashes]

Warrant is all.

[ Said with the practiced ease of a drone, Lavi laughs faintly again, the muscles in his ribs protesting against the shudder of sound. ]

Ah..I'm a little under the weather. I was hoping I could get a pretty girl to take a walk underground with me.

[ Translation: you're hot and also I might die in the undercity right now.

He reaches out, pats the top of her stubborn crown. ]

Your hair is cuter when it's not perfect, by the way.

[fledges]

[Kate swats his hand away, but the gesture is playful rather than dismissive, and she smiles.]

Is the big bad killjoy trying to butter me up so he doesn't have to go into the scary undercity all alone?

[Judging from the way she pulls away to grab her bow and quiver from beside the couch, she doesn't seem to mind too much.]

[inksplashes]

[ He grins and it's almost close to his characteristic cheer, lifting his hand at that swat as if to say "okay, I got it, I got it" and sliding it into a pocket. ]

What can I say? I fight better with something worth protecting.

[ Not that he anticipates ever actually needing to protect Kate, but it's as smooth as he can manage for now, still in the throes of recovery as he is--

Which brings him to a pause, frowning. She doesn't look quite as bad as him, but that's hardly an indicator of her actual health. ]

Have you been inoculated yet?

[fledges]

My hero. If you need to protect me, I'm doing something wrong.

[He's never been condescending to her before, though, so she takes it as the teasing it is and doesn't get offended. She's moving towards the door when he asks his question, and it makes her hesitate.]

No, not yet. I don't know anyone who's gotten their hands on the stuff besides you.

[inksplashes]

You're still worth protecting even if you don't need it, you know.

[ Almost chiding, his frown deepens at her revelation. There should be a handful of killjoys and Company agents with the cure to disseminate, but it's still not enough.

Lavi supposes it's as good a way to show her how to use it.

Rifling through his numerous pockets, he produces one of the pill bottles holding that miracle drug. Small neon green discs are held within the bottle's clear walls, roughly thirty in all.

They taste awful, but the rush to get the cure out superseded the need to make it any flavor not green death. Lavi passes the bottle to her. ]

Should be thirty nanotabs in there. Just one will do the trick. You're not gonna like it.

[fledges]

[Kate takes the bottle from him, looking it over suspiciously. Man, they sure chose a terrible color for these things.]

So I'm cute enough to protect from the horrors of the undercity, but not cute enough to protect from the horrors of modern medicine?

[She twists the top off and pops one in her mouth anyway. Lavi is absolutely right—it takes disgusting, and she makes a horrible face as it goes down.]

[inksplashes]

I'm a killjoy, not a miracle worker.

[ Offering an apologetic look with keen memory of just how god awful that taste is, Lavi mentally checks one soul off his list. It's not an instant cure--those things only exist in ridiculous scifi novels, but it halts the progress of the infection and gives the body the necessary boost to start fighting back without expending all of its energy reserves. ]

You hang onto it. I'm still a little..off kilter. Might drop it and man do they get mad when you do that. [ Nervous laughter increases. ] Ready to be heroes?

[ Or villains, from the infection's point of view. A good historian considers all angles. ]

[fledges]

Always.

[She slips the bottle into a pouch in her belt and then nudges her arm into his gently.]

Hey, you can crash here, you know. I'll take care of this and you can get some rest. You look like you're ready to keel over.

[Even if it's phrased like her usual banter, there's a clear note of concern in her voice. He really does look like he could use the sleep.]

[inksplashes]

[ That earns her one of those rarely seen genuine smiles, smaller and quieter than his usual grin. Nudging back, he shakes his head and reaches for the door to hold it open for her. ]

Nah. I've slept enough the last few days and I..

[ "Want to help." ]

Have to be part of the warrant to collect the joy. Lead the way, Rook.

[fledges]

[Kate rolls her eyes dramatically.]

Right, right. The warrant is all, long live the warrant, hey, Kate, remember the warrant? You're lucky you're so pretty or I might not put up with you.

[She sets off, locking the door behind them and then slipping down an alley. If she glances over her shoulder more than usual to check on him, well, maybe he won't notice.]

[inksplashes]

Aw, you think I'm pretty? You're gonna make me blush.

[ Yeah, he's choosing to ignore the rest of that, though he'll be mindful to stop saying the word 'warrant'. If Lavi catches her glances, he writes them off as occupational paranoia, his own attention skipping around the alley and the streets outside of it. Seas of faces, ashen and tired like his own, turn away from his gaze.

(They're all enemies waiting to happen. Fights that haven't started yet.)

Catching up with Kate, the killjoy flashes another grin, head tilting in wordless question for which route she wants to take. There's a nearby emergency hatch hidden between residences, but it's a lot open to prying eyes. Alternatively, there's an entrance from The Royale, but that costs a fancy bit of joy to the bar keep. ]

[fledges]

I don't think you're physically capable of blushing, Lavi.

[Unfortunately for Lavi's paranoia, Kate is choosing the more public entrance, largely because she doesn't want to throw down the cash for the other one. She forces open the emergency hatch, glancing over her shoulder.]

Is there somewhere you want to go specifically, or are we just wandering the tunnels and handing it out?

[inksplashes]

Shame is just the convention of the unenlightened!

[ Cheeky, cheery. He's almost got the usual pep in his step, but not quite. That energy drowns immediately when she pries open the hatch, the killjoy softly grimacing.

Lavi will be fine if he's questioned about the tunnels, he has authorization, but Kate on the other hand..

He frowns, restraining much of his worry in favor of getting them moving. ]

I was thinkin' we could stop by our mutual friends' place. Most of the sweeps aren't gonna reach 'em.

[fledges]

[Kate trusts him to keep her from getting lifted, so she just nods, starting down the ladder bolted into the concrete.]

We're going to need a lot more tablets than this. It's really bad down there.

[inksplashes]

[ What is this thing called trust?? Do they have a trial program he can use or...

Following her down after closing the hatch, he moves decidedly slower than usual, breath heavier than it ought to be by the time they reach solid ground. Giving himself a moment to recuperate, Lavi keeps himself firmly facing away from her until his lungs stop protesting.

Being a plain human really sucks sometimes. ]

We'll do what we can. They wouldn't give me more if I did this alone [ (and he has to, 'lest Kanda lose plausible deniability) ] so let's focus on the worst cases.

[fledges]

[She nods, although her expression is obviously displeased. He's not in good shape, and she's worried he's going to work himself into the ground like Lunafreya.]

Are you sure you're okay? Don't lie to me. If you're not, we can figure something else out.

[inksplashes]

[ If he had a joy-nickel for every time someone said "don't lie to me"..

Lavi sighs, tries for that characteristic smile as he turns around, though now is a great time to check his sidearm rather than meet her gaze. ]

I'll be fine. I've had enough of people taking care of me, I want to return the favor.

'Sides, I already signed up for this .. contract. I need to see it through.

[ He didn't say "warrant"! ]

[fledges]

Fine. But if you don't sleep when we get back, I'm going to knock you out.

[She knows she's not going to get anywhere arguing with him right now, though, so she just shoots him one last look and then heads off down the tunnels. They're winding and overwhelming to anyone unfamiliar with then, but Kate has been down here enough to know each twist and each turn to take.]

You know, you're not as great at faking smiles as you think you are. It ruins the effect when you can't even look at me.

[inksplashes]

[ Regulating his breath, Lavi shrugs softly at that, making mental notes of the twists and turns as she leads them. He thinks he hears voices carrying quietly through the tunnels, but it's hard to gauge when much of the last few days has been filled with auditory hallucinations. ]

Maybe I just don't mind someone seeing through them occasionally. [ So minds. To hell with this weakness. ] Makes me seem enigmatic, right? Girls totally dig that.

[fledges]

No, it makes you seem like a stubborn ass.

[Every once in a while, Kate will change course, ducking down a smaller side tunnel when she hears too many voices up ahead, but her focus is largely on Lavi.]

What, are you going for the bad boy thing?

[inksplashes]

[ Kanda and Kate would really get along, Lavi thinks. They share a propensity towards blunt and unforgiving truths.

He makes a mental note to never let them meet on his watch.

Following her ducking, albeit with a bit less grace given his stature, Lavi ignores her evident insistence on paying him attention, changing the subject with the usual laugh and smile combination. ]

What do you think the chances of our friends being in one place is? These tunnels aren't made for someone tall enough to see over a bar.

[ Shade: thrown. ]

[fledges]

[Kate lets out an offended noise, turning just enough to point at him in an accusatory way.]

I am small and adorable.

[The next tunnel they come to is much taller, so Lavi won't have to suffer all that much.]

Besides, what would you do without me?

[inksplashes]

I'd hate to even imagine the sorta' world that doesn't have my favorite shortstack.

[ He holds his hands up, a show of "I'm unarmed!" palm for that accusing look, though his grin doesn't look all that apologetic.

Grateful that the next chasm doesn't require bent necks and hunched shoulders, Lavi narrows his eye again at the faint chatter of voices, of scurrying, reaching for his holster thoughtlessly.

(But it might not even be there; just a phantom of disease in his brain. He waits to see if she has any reaction, fingers hovering loosely at his weapon, ready to draw.) ]

[fledges]

[Kate doesn't hear anything, and when she notices Lavi go for his sidearm, she stops, resting one hand against a concrete wall. There's nothing that she can see, either—just the tunnels snaking out in either direction, empty and echoing. She lowers her voice anyway, expression concerned.]

What's wrong? Did you hear something?

[inksplashes]

..Maybe.

[ It's a fairly definitive yes or no question, but in light of this week's events and his questionable mental state.. there's no clear cut answer.

Paranoia doesn't mean they're not after you, etc.

Frowning, he draws his hand away from his weapon, trying to push that needling anxiety out of mind. ]

Let's just keep going. How far now?