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

[valr]

[It won't hurt her to wait for him to gather his thoughts, so she can stand around for a moment until Kanda remembers what he was here for.]

I heard a lot of shit, but politics ain't my usual business.

[Criminals and the warrants for them is more her forte, which isn't to say she has nothing, just that she has doesn't her usual digging.]

People are saying it's about the Accords. Hyponia supports 'em, or did.

[lotusmesenpai]

...Which might be enough for Kendry to want them out of the way. Fuck.

[It's times like this that he needs Lavi here. His is the mind that can hash out political nuance - something neither he nor Kara seem to really invest much effort into.

Only.

Lavi's currently fighting off a virus in a fevered sleep.

Glancing back up at her, he frowns a little more.]

So are they trying to find some kind of connection between the resistance and one of the Nine? Because those bastards are far too selfish, even if one of them supported them.

[valr]

Wouldn't have to be Resistance. An assassination attempt is an assassination attempt, it'd be enough to reshuffle the deck.

[It's crude terminology when people's lives are at stake, but Kara likes the occasional metaphor, and it gets her thoughts across clearer. Kendry can weed out whoever was "responsible" for the attempt on Lady Derrish's life, and try to replace them with people on their side.

For all she knows, this could've been a long game, maybe they've had this in the works for a couple decades.]

[lotusmesenpai]

[She's probably not far off, with the thought that they've been plotting these actions for years - with that nest of vipers, he certainly wouldn't put it past them.

After all, why else would they have funded experiments to make their own personal soldiers stronger, faster, deadlier than the average grunt?

It's enough to have him shaking his head slightly - any harder and the dull lingering ache would turn into something much more acute.]

Still leaves us with more guesses than fucking answers though. Damn, but those bastards are annoying as hells. I don't like that the Kendry bitch is using us. It's making us involved in their bullshit.

[valr]

Part of the job, ain't it?

[Kara has never held to the belief that Killjoys are impartial, because there's money involved, and money is never impartial.]

[lotusmesenpai]

If they're paying.

[He shrugs at that, unintentionally echoing her belief, and draws a knee up to rest his forearm on, gaze traveling around the abandoned cavern, automatic and assessing.]

But the Nine never make it a simple warrant and done. Useless bastards. I doubt this is going to end well, for anyone except that woman.

[valr]

[In the tunnels, Kara feels a little safer.]

Hope they at least do enough damage to each other to make it worth it.

[Kanda doesn't know about her work with the Resistance, but that's not what she's admitting; she's just expressing dislike for the Nine, and that's nothing new.]

[lotusmesenpai]

[She probably is safer down here - it's easier to slip past the Company guards and dogs, move without being seen.

At her words, he can only flash her a fierce smirk in total agreement. His hate for the Nine, and the research they fund through both the Company and their military contacts is more than enough to earn his hate.

And that, is not something he's ever bothered to hide in the slightest.]

I don't think we're that fucking lucky, but it'd be something to see, huh.

[He might not be aware of her ties, but even if he were... well.]

[valr]

War touches everyone.

[If it comes to that, whether it's amongst the Nine or between the various moons, they won't escape completely unharmed.

It's satisfying to think, even if she doesn't want something like that to break out.]

[lotusmesenpai]

[Snorting, he swipes his hand long the concrete, spraying her ankle with loose rocks and dirt as he rolls his eyes.]

Now you sound like those damned monks.

[Despite himself, a bone wearying exhaustion is slowly starting to set in - and with it, the sense that he's forgetting something important. Something...

Something that is (or was?) capable of piercing his heart, cutting the remnants of his humanity to the quick. This, though, he keeps to himself. Instead, he pushes abruptly to his feet, then offers her a hand.]

Next, you're going to ask to meditate with me or some shit, and I don't have the patience to teach.

[valr]

[She scoffs at both those statements, but it's amused rather than mean, and she takes his hand when it's offered to her, rising to her feet.]

I look like I meditate?

[Probably not.]

[lotusmesenpai]

What's wrong with meditation?

[Shrugging, he actually offers a faint grin as he lets go her hand.]

I do it every damn day - twice, actually.

[valr]

Nothing wrong with it, just ain't for me.

[She can be chill and calm when she has to be, but purposefully sitting down to Relax(tm) just isn't her style.]

[lotusmesenpai]

[Smirking now, he shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets.]

You should try it sometime. You’d be surprised how well it can hone your ability to focus.

[And then a shrug as he draws a breath, reaches out slowly to pull at the torn edge of her shirt, to look at the wounded area beneath. (Half expecting it to be gone, given what she’s told him about her own enhancements.] …You sure you’re alright now?

[valr]

[She shakes her head at that, a little amused, but she has no plans to try. If she's got a spare hour, she's going to spend it drinking, not sitting on the floor thinking.

The wound is on it's way to healing, skin pink and shiny where the blade pierced the skin, though there' still a little more internal damage that can't be seen. The nanos seem to favor closing off the wound as soon as possible, then dealing with whatever's going on inside.]

Won't even be a scar in half an hour.

[lotusmesenpai]

[The whole point is to not think. To clear one's mind of all thought and the things that tangle the consciousness. But he knows all too well that it's not for everyone - everytime Lavi's tried, he's fallen asleep.

And Lenalee was too fidgety, couldn't manage to sit still long enough for her mind to reach a true meditative state.

(Frowning at the flicker of thought, he glances around because there's that woman again, invading his thoughts like an old friend when he doesn't even know who the hells she is)

No, now's the time to focus on the actual woman before him and so he lets the frown linger as if in response to the knitting wound rather than his own fractured psyche.]

...Good. I still don't know what the fuck just happened, but - I'm glad. And. [Narrowing his eyes, Kanda cuts his gaze up to meet hers, almost defiantly since these are words so rarely used by him. ] I am sorry for this shit.

[valr]

[Her automatic response is to dismiss the apology, brush it off because it doesn't really matter, taking the injury was her choice and it isn't like she had to suffer for it. But she knows that this isn't exactly a common thing for Kanda, so she meets his gaze and gives a sharp little nod.]

Make it up to me by getting some fucking rest.

[lotusmesenpai]

[He snorts at that, and then just nods to her shoulder all the same. ]

You, too.

[He hesitates for just a moment, almost as if he's going to add to that, before he finally just shakes his head and steps back, starts towards the exit, exhaustion already weighting heavily on him.]

Meantime, you hear anything else, let me know.

[valr]

[Whatever's left unspoken can hang in there air of the tunnels; Kara doesn't think it's all that important to actually put things out there when she figures they both know it all, anyway.]

I'll keep you in the loop.

[The tunnels are complicated things, winding under Old Town, and Kara takes off in a different direction to head back to her place, trusting Kanda to not pass out on the way home.]