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

[digophelia]

[ With each step, her anger grows as she leads him back to her home, far away from the chaos surrounding the city. Alice lives in almost absolute seclusion in a large house. As warm as it is, decorated in warm colors and fine fixtures, it's very empty. There are no servants or housekeeping in the house and no one to tend to the heiress. Just Alice herself, who seems insistent on being silent through the duration of the trip, with the exception of checking on the girl.

She can be cold to Sion, not the little girl. It exudes a warmth, but a cold air all the same. While she tried to replicate some additions to the house to be like her childhood home, the house is empty, silent, and just as lonely as Alice is. Sion and the little girl are the first guests she's had outside of her family attorney. With her coat aside and Alice leading them in as she pulls her hair back, she keeps her back faced to Sion, thinking of setting the little girl in a guest bedroom close to hers.

Sion can sleep on the lawn for all she cares for being so persistent on checking in on her. She can't tell him that she appreciates the gesture. ]

That much is obvious.

[ After so long, Alice turns to face him, stone-faced and looking far from welcoming. ]

She can stay in the guest room upstairs, it's close to my room.

[sunderings]

Then I will see her to it.

[ The guest room, Sion finds, is as immaculate as the rest of the home, characterized by warm colors and artisan woodwork, both inviting and somehow yet solemn at once, rather reminding him of Alice herself, who seemed to have distanced herself from her heart long ago during the trials she weathered and endured. Alice, who he teases and calls my Lady, who is distrusting of all save for those in need of safehaven and protection...

...she is lonely, isn't she?

But she needn't be, and will be for no longer, not when there is a little girl newly tucked into the guest room's bed.

Sion watches and waits, ensuring the child's sleep is as peaceable as it may be, having left Alice downstairs, wanting to grant the heiress the space she deserved in her own home; her own sanctuary away from the madness which yet awaited the Director. Sion has long since lost track of the hours he's remained awake, given to aiding the people of Leith, knowing only that there is more to do and there are those within the Company ranks who look to him for guidance.

Already, he has been gone for much too long, his post abandoned in favor of seeing another home, and--... He wonders if he can forgive himself for it.

(Forgive himself for slumping, against the banister, when he reaches the stairwell, intending to descend and see himself out, but his body seems to be beyond his control, heeding only his exhaustion now that adrenaline has faded and gone.)

If she is curious of his whereabouts, Alice may find him there, collapsed, caught somewhere between waking and a doze. ]

[digophelia]

[ Alice is, indeed, lonely. The house is big, empty, and Alice is the only one in it, unsure what to do with more than one bedrooms, let alone the study she has downstairs. Memories of her family spending leisure time, maybe, she's not sure. She's upstairs, gathering clean blankets, tucking them under her arms and setting them down once she sees through the crack of her guestroom the little girl had completely given out to exhaustion. Alice, herself, wants to. She's tired but can never will her body to sleep. She has to go downstairs and lock all her doors. As she's descending down the stairs, she pats her knife that's tucked in her dress, before finally coming to a stop. ]

Ahh.

[ She finds him there resting against her banister and now somewhat in her way. By now, the anger she felt for Sion insisting that he escort her has vanished and Alice is left there standing, unsure of what to feel. The little girl upstairs tucked in bed and now Sion seemingly passed out down at the bottom of her steps. Alice's heart racing as she circulates feelings passing in her mind. She had visions of having guests and pleasing others like any other good Leithian heiress to make them happy and to prove she was good as any of them.

She was struck with a feeling she wasn't sure what it was: loneliness.

Alice swallows, tentatively approaching Sion as if he was something more than a sleeping figure there on her stairs. She had to move him somehow. As much as she shut him off and berated him at times for being a constant force in her life, she couldn't bring herself to be cruel to him. She hated to admit that she appreciated it, he seemed like one of the few people that cared for her well-being. ]

For heaven's sake.

[ With a trembling hand, Alice forced herself to do something she dreaded to do: touch him, nudge him. In a small voice, Alice gave another nudge and recoiled. ]

You can't sleep on stairs.

[sunderings]

[ Tentative and uncertain though the touch may be, it is enough to rouse the Director (partway) from sleep, his brow furrowing as golden eyes slit open, hooded, yet, by the thick veil of his lashes. And for a moment, Sion is quite certain that he must be dreaming: the Alice Liddell he has come to know is averse to such things, unable to tolerate the touch of others, because--... She'd been hurt, and hurt terribly, and had been left to recover alone, in this house, suffering from something which the Director only catches glimpses of in flashes of Alice's anger; in the haunted, and at times, faraway look in her eyes. And it is that thought, that notion which sees him lift his head, the movement sluggish and bereft of his usual grace, his body forced upright because it is as the Lady of the house has said: no, he cannot sleep on the stairs.

(So long as Alice and all of Leith is hurting, he cannot afford to rest.) ]

Forgive me. [ One hand touching to his temple, the other gripping the banister for support, he rises (unsteadily) to his feet, blinking back the heaviness from his eyes and willing his vision back into focus. His body is only tired, and fatigue is nothing in comparison to all that he'd been designed to withstand; all that he is capable of doing. ] I must have startled you.

[ Especially if she'd thought he'd taken his leave, had long since escorted himself out of her home. ]

Believe me, I'd no intention of--... [ Giving her reason to be fearful. ] Overstaying my welcome.

Let me know in the days to come, if there should be anything you are in need of. To be charged with caring for another so suddenly is no easy undertaking.

[digophelia]

[ Alice was about to berate him for falling asleep on her stairway. She wanted to tell him what an encumbrance he was, blocking her path on the stairway. Alice had plans for the rest of the evening. Maybe. As he rises up from the stairs, Alice's shoulders begin to wilt, effectively taking the wind out of her sails. In the back of her mind, a part of her was urging herself to reprimand Sion for having the nerve to encroaching on her home.

As he sways, Alice is overcome with guilt. She couldn't send him out after the epidemic that took place on Leith, so far away from any town. Her angered expression faded, Alice turned to gaze down to look at her feet. What a terrible person I am, I can't do anything right. She always looked at herself with such a deep loathing and disdain -- standing there, utterly defeated, Alice's loathing and disdain began to grow. It was like a weight on her shoulders, pressing down.

No wonder she was alone, not even having anyone to help her. She didn't have the courage or the heart to tell him that she was grateful for his persistence, all she did was shove him away. A deep sigh passed through Alice as she took hands to her face, resisting any sort of urge to cry.

How selfish! ]

Don't be a fool.

[ Alice glanced back up at him, her green eyes glassy, threatened with tears. ]

I'm not asking you to leave. You can barely stand, you idiot, I bet you haven't slept in days. What are you thinking?

[ Alice didn't have the heart to send him out, she didn't want him to venture out without sleep. She couldn't really express a softness to anyone, especially to someone like Sion who was so stubborn to care for her. Alice gestures upstairs, very much like a scolding mother sending her child to bed. She was smaller than him, but that wouldn't mean that she would allow Sion to underestimate her presence.

For the first time in months, Alice was not the meek, quiet girl she was. She found her bravado at that moment. ]

There is another room upstairs -- I might as well make the most of them, it isn't as if I have guests. Go up there and sleep in the bed like a normal man.