Entry tags:

Daycycle 117 [ November 27 - December 3 ]

daycycle 117

[Nov 27 - Dec 3]

[OOC Plotting for this Dacycle can be found here.]

Early, Early Morning [0500 - 0800]
Room 1103 will be woken up at 0500 when a squadron of Internal Security Gray Ops come to arrest Felicity Smoak for treason. She will be led away at gun point and her roommates, Isabelle Lightwood and Zatanna Zatara will be immediately taken into IntSec for questioning. They will be questioned separately and intently about the activities of their former roommate, especially since this is the second roommate in three days to be arrested. They will not be released until mid afternoon.

During prisoner check at 0700 this morning, it will be discovered that Parker is among the prisoners being detained. Officials are unsure how she arrived as she was never formally checked into lock up. No one steps forward to claim the prize for her capture.

Early Morning [0800 - 0900] — All Troubleshooters Report for Duty

Buffy Summers and Clint Barton, have been selected for today’s mission. Details are below:

‘The Charity Ball made the higher ups realize how shabby the jumpsuits are in comparison. A complex wide initiative to polish up jumpsuits has been initiated. Citizens will bring you their jumpsuits throughout the day. Check clothing for stains, rips and holes and repair damaged clothing onsite.’

Please debrief the computer on the status of your mission by the end of the Daycycle here.

Morning & Afternoon [0900 - 1600] — Service Firm Positions
All Troubleshooters not assigned a mission should report to their Service Firm for their daily duties, unless specifically assigned a different shift.

At 1300 the trial for Oliver Queen, Peggy Carter, Parker and Julianne Holtzmann will be held and presided over by honorable VIOLET judge Bethany Abbott. Matt Murdock will be representing those accused of being traitors. The trial is closed, but those Specials wanting to pass information to those on trial may do so through their lawyer. Matt will not discover until the trial that if found guilty, those accused will have their clone immediately terminated. If found innocent, they will be released into Alpha Complex in the morning of the next daycycle. To date, no Special accused of treason has ever been found innocent.

Evening [1600 - 2200] — Citizen Improvement
All Alpha citizens are encouraged to better themselves through Alpha’s wide variety of educational, entertainment and cultural opportunities offered each evening. Attending these sanctioned events are not mandatory, but is highly encouraged by The Computer. Citizens choosing not to take advantage of these opportunities, have a growing number of other options available to them in how to spend their hard earned credits and free time.

Tonight’s event will be at 1900 in Meeting Room B, Wagon Wheel, Floor 25 and will be hosted by the Monsters & Aliens Club. Come by to witness the longest running roleplaying game in Alpha history and possibly the only true remnant of Alpha creativity.

Alternatively, there will be a wrap party for those that assisted with the Charity Ball behind the scenes. Arrangements for the party have been made by Jack Harkness under Teela O'Malley's supervision. It will be held in the Teela O'Malley studio at 1800.

Alpha Curfew Restrictions
All Alpha citizens should be in their quarters within the Wagon Wheel by 2200, unless they’ve been given permission from a GREEN or higher clearance level citizen. Sleeping Aid gas is dispelled each night in the Wagon Wheel at 2200 to assist citizens in getting a productive sleeping period.

Confession Booths
There are hundreds of confession booths available around Alpha Complex if a citizen would like to communicate directly with the computer. Please use these confession booths to report mission statuses, report treason or terrorist acts, unregistered mutants, confess your trespasses against Alpha Complex, request propaganda or speak with Your Friend, The Computer, at any time.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

By the time that Tony wakes up in the morning, he's already feeling like death warmed over. It's the hangover, sure, but as he lays in bed for a moment while waiting for the headache and the nausea to ease up enough for him to get out of bed, he remembers. Not everything - thankfully it doesn't happen all at once - but he remembers. His talk with Steve. How things had been okay one moment, then the rest spiraled out of control so horribly that it makes him nauseous all over again, and for a moment it feels like he can't fucking breathe as the air escapes his lungs.

As much as he wants to stay in bed and ignore the world for the rest of the day, though, he knows he can't. He has work to do and, even if Lydia would probably be okay with him taking a day off if he admits how badly he needs it, the problem is simple. He would have to admit that he's not okay, and no. He's not ready for that. He doesn't want to revisit his feelings from last night because he already feels like shit about them as it is; the last thing he wants is to vocalize them.

So, he gets out of bed. It hurts, between the splitting headache that makes the room spin and the fact that his left knuckles are covered in an ugly combination of purple and yellow bruises, but he gets out of bed anyway. He showers, changes, and forces himself to look somewhat presentable because that's what Tony Stark does. He doesn't have superhuman strength, or supersonic speed, or supersoldier abilities, but he knows how to use masks and facades to hide how truly fucking awful he's feeling. Not much of a superpower, but hey. It's something, and for now he's clinging to that like his life depends on it.

And, in a way, it does. Today he's not the same social butterfly he had been last night, but it could be excused on the lack of booze as well. And, well, it can also be excused on the hangover he's dealing with. He keeps to himself as much as he can in the Commissary, and even more so in the morning briefing because the last thing he wants is to see Steve, and then he heads off to work. It's hard, working with one hand since his left isn't exactly cooperating considering how hard he had punched the railing by the waterfront, but he wants the distraction. He needs the distraction, and even the pain is enough to keep his attention from drifting too much to a corner of his brain that will only bring more nausea that has nothing to do with the lingering effects of the booze.

In the evening, Tony only leaves work to eat before making his way back to the waterfront and then maybe back to work. There's a perfectly good lab at HQ that he could go to, and that's an instinct that he almost follows, but no. Nope. There's no way in hell he's going to HQ, and so he tries to find other distractions. Maybe by tomorrow morning this sensation that is drowning him won't be so bad.

The previous night was a good start to what Lydia hopes will be a better week. Not that Lydia ever feels one week start and another end anymore, considering weekends don't exist, so it's difficult to differentiate one from the other, but Lydia likes to tell herself that last night's Charity Ball was a high end of one week and today should hopefully be the calmer start to a new one. Last night, she earned herself an investor, should she find use for it and the thought hasn't been lost on her mind. She's had her gears turning since the auction when the INDIGO man, Alexander, won the dance with her and offered it. There's bound to be a way to make that work to her advantage without it being too obvious that she's basically being gently treasonous in the store and fully treasonous in its back warehouse.

The morning was bustling with YELLOW and above clearance levels — those who make their own schedules — and as the more popular lunch hour wound down, a few more lower clearance levels started to filter in. Lydia takes her lunch, typically, when the Commissary thins out. As that point closes in on her, Lydia calls over one of her bots to take over the register should anyone filter back in while she's gone and, rather than head out into the Commissary for lunch, she makes her way into the back room where the bots and Cisco and Tony work.

She wanders in and peeks around, seeing that Cisco and Tony are both there and both working in their own little spaces. Her eyes shift to Cisco as she chews her bottom lip before she looks back to Tony and makes her way over to him. "Hey big guy," she says with a little smile. "How's it goin' back here?"

As the day wears on, Tony's discovering that working with a busted hand is probably not the best idea, but it hasn't stopped him from trying. It's distracting, but not in the worst way because it keeps his thoughts from straying too far and, all in all, he's still managing to work anyway. It's a challenge, but whatever. He doesn't mind it as much as he would mind having to go to Medical Services, so he makes the best of it.

In fact, he's so wrapped up in his work that he doesn't even notice that he should have probably grabbed something to eat. He's not hungry, though, so even when he sees Lydia, he doesn't even wonder what time it is. He just plasters a smile on his face when he sees Lydia, one that is almost convincing if it wasn't for how worn his expression looks, but he's quick to try and hide it as best as he can.

"Hey," he greets as he sits on a stool, resting his left hand on his thigh so that it could be hidden from view. That has been Tony's thing today; hiding the bruises of his hand, one way or another. "Good. Working away. How's the shop?"

Lydia's eyes narrow just slightly as she looks back at Tony because it feels like there's something not quite the same about that smile he gives, but she can't quite put her finger on it. So she decides calling him out on it can wait. But he's smart; he'll know that the look on her face says she's not entirely convinced.

Tony sits down and a loud metallic whirring sound kicks on to their left where one of the manufacturing machines goes back to work with production. Her eyes shift to Cisco again and she thinks maybe that'll be loud enough to drown her out, because the machine is halfway between them. Lydia looks back at Tony and gives him a little smile, one that borders slightly on tired.

"It's doing well today so far. Morning was busy with upper level clearance," she comments. They both know she isn't back here for idle chit-chat; Lydia nearly never comes back here to bother the two of them while they're working. But she presses on with the small talk for a moment. "That INDIGO guy who won the dance with me in the auction told me to reach out to him if there was an investment opportunity to be had at True Alpha...So that happened."

Lydia pauses briefly before continuing in a lowered voice, "have you had a chance to think about our talk at all; do you have any questions you couldn't ask last night? Or are you feeling kinda hungover?" she asks with a little smirk and a wrinkle of her nose. She's feeling it. Not much, but enough to sympathize.

Tony catches the way that Lydia's eyes narrow - it's entirely too similar to the way Natasha had looked at him yesterday while they danced, but he's good at not reacting to it. What is it with the women in his life managing to make him squirm with just a look?

Thankfully Lydia doesn't voice her doubts to his answer, and he counts that as a victory. He notes that she looks tired as well, and if he didn't feel like shit he'd probably offer for her to take some time off while he looked over the shop, but right now he probably shouldn't be dealing with the public. His mood would lead to him getting in trouble, probably, so it's probably better that he doesn't offer. He does raise an eyebrow in curiosity at the mention of the INDIGO guy, and he lets out a small hum in interest. Because it really is pretty cool and he's happy for Lydia that her product and brand are getting recognized by someone in that level.

When Lydia mentions what they had talked about, Tony looks confused for a moment only because he really can't remember what she's talking about...but soon enough it dawns on him, and his shoulders slump slightly. Shit. He really had said he'd think about it, huh?

"I'm-- Yeah, I kind of... I got distracted last night, so I didn't think much about it." That's one way to put it for it. It's not so much that he forgot to think about things, it's more that he drank himself numb last night, and whatever coherent thoughts he has had today haven't really been about his conversation with Lydia. He feels awful about it, though, and it's why he sighs under his breath. "Sorry. We can talk more about it, though."

That look tells Lydia that Tony completely forgot and she hums her amusement as she smiles. That's all right, she kind of figured it was a fifty-fifty shot with everything that was going on last night, not the least of which included the kind of refreshments she didn't think actually existed here. So she waves it off with a dismissive hand and a warm smile.

"It's all right, we don't have to talk about it today," she replies with a shrug. "You could show me what you're working on, instead, if that's easier?"

Maybe it's better if she doesn't push the subject, because it's entirely just as possible that he hasn't forgotten at all, he just hasn't found a gentle way to let her down and while Lydia doesn't really require that, there's no way for Tony to know that he'd be off the hook that easily. "Or...I could come back later? Whatever works," she says with another smile. Personally, she thinks the Humanists would be a perfect outlet for Tony because she worries, admittedly, a little bit that maybe the weapons alone could end up being something like throwing gasoline on a fire when really, all Lydia wants to do is add a little more kindling.

It's hard to tell if bringing up what he's working on is easier, considering the bruises on his left hand, but the last thing he wants is for Lydia to think that he's avoiding her or something. Because that's not what this is about at all, this is just possibly one of the worst mornings he has had around here. And that's including the morning after the bombing.

"Yeah, that works." Look at that, he even smiles normally and everything, and he opens one of the compartments of his workstation so he can retrieve what looks like a pistol. Which probably doesn't look like much, but after setting it on the table he opens a small compartment to reveal a mini arc reactor, very similar to the one he's wearing in his chest. The only difference is that the one that's in the pistol isn't glowing just yet.

"I know this is going to sound crazy," he starts with a small sigh under his breath, "but back home I used to have an armor that was powered by the reactor. Technically, I can actually weaponize this," he taps the glowing circle in his chest through the jumpsuit, to indicate what he's talking about. "It creates a sort of energy blast that can either be as soft as a tap, a push, or it can blow shit up. It just depends on the setting.

"This," he adds as he motions to the pistol, "has that same mechanism. I just have to give it a jolt so it can start working. The arc reactor in it is miniaturized so it won't have the same lifespan as the one in my chest does, but it should last for a good while." A pause. "Depending on the setting, anyway."

Lydia's eyes follow Tony's movements and she glances at the pistol with interest. It doesn't look like anything special, but she assumes that there's more to it than meets the eye because she doesn't know Tony Stark well, but she knows him well enough. A plain old run of the mill gun doesn't really seem his style.

"Tony, honey...there's nothing you could say to me that would sound crazy after some of the things I've seen back home, trust me," she says softly, waving her hand with gentle dismissal again. Her eyebrows lift, though when he continues, explaining that he's using a similar — well, more accurately a smaller — mechanism to the one in his chest keeping him alive.

She hums thoughtfully, lifting her eyebrows. "'Depending on the setting,'" she repeats, giving a facial shrug. "Care to elaborate? That makes me curious. You mean like the settings on the device or...?" she asks and waves one of her hands in a vague general movement to indicate setting as in surroundings. She knows nothing about that reactor except that he says it keeps him alive, so he could be talking about anything, really, and she'd prefer being on the same page before they continue the conversation so that she doesn't sound like an idiot or fall behind.

Tony gives a small nod, as if saying 'fair enough' at her assurance that what he's saying isn't crazy, and his smile quirk slightly into a small smile. That's good to know, because sometimes Tony doesn't know how people will take hearing about weaponized flying armors that essentially fought an army from space - among other things.

"Yeah," he answers as he flips the pistol enough to show the trigger. Next to it, there seemed to be a sort of button that could slide into two sort of settings. "It applies to both, I guess; the setting on the gun, or what you want to use it for. You'd just need to slide this," he says as he slides the lever. "The higher it goes, the stronger the blast. Which is pretty fun to blow shit up with it, but it's not so subtle, so it you're trying to slip in somewhere unnoticed...that probably won't be what you want. But, if you adjust it to something lower, the blast is enough to knock someone back. It's quieter, so...the blast won't make a sound, just. You know. The way they hit the wall, or hit the floor, depending on how hard you do it." He pauses, chewing his bottom lip for a quick second. "You just have to be careful. If it's accidentally left on the high setting, it can actually blow body parts off." And yes, he is speaking from experience.

"The blast is just a little too efficient sometimes," he adds with another sigh. "You just have to adjust it for what you want."

Hearing about weaponized flying armor that essentially fought an army from space may be Tony's conversational hurdle. Lydia's is fighting alongside werewolves and kitsune; being drawn toward finding bodies and having voices in her head. Quite honestly, Lydia doesn't miss it. Whatever the Computer did to her to suppress it, Lydia welcomes that. She's probably one of the only ones here who had powers back home who prefers the way she is here and now without them. Lydia can't even imagine how loud this place would be if she was still a banshee, after all...

Leaning in a little, Lydia listens carefully as Tony explains, her eyebrows lifted with interest as he does. "Makes sense," she agrees over him as he points out that the higher the setting, the stronger the blast, as well as the fact that a lower setting makes less noise. She supposes that's probably true for several technologies, so it shouldn't be hard to remember.

Her eyes widen a little with interest as she looks up at him again. "Do I want to know why you know that...?" she asks, thinking that she probably doesn't.

"Is this something you're thinking of reproducing for other Specials or not so much?" If he isn't, that's fine with her; she hasn't hired him to build weapons for everyone all the time. She's hired him to develop new things out of sight and if they happen to end up being usable by other Specials, then that's a bonus.

Admittedly, Tony's curious as to how Lydia is so accepting of his talk about his armor, and the fact that he has literally found a way to weaponize the energy source in his chest. He likes the fact that he doesn't have to navigate through skepticism, though, and he's thankful for it because Tony would rather drive straight to the point whenever possible.

The way that Lydia's eyes widen in interest as she looks up at him makes him chuckle quietly under his breath, although his own eyes venture down to the gun. "No, you probably don't."

He doesn't know if she knows Bucky, but she knows Steve. He doesn't want to get into how he discovered that he could blast body parts off by blasting Barnes' metallic arm off. Not necessarily on purpose - if he would have wanted to hurt him thatbadly he would have done it from the very beginning - but still. He really doesn't want to talk about that.

Leaving the pistol on the table, he passes a hand along his goatee. "No, not really. I'm making two. One for you, and I'll save the other one. The arc reactor needs a good jolt to bring it to life; it's literally a powerhouse. I can power up two, no problem. More than that... I'm not so sure."

He lets that linger in the air for a moment, the fact that he (or rather, the reactor in his chest) is powering up the pistols, before he shrugs slightly. "If someone is monitoring the energy levels used in this place, we won't be able to justify why we used up so much for it. No one will notice if I do it, and it'll be fine. It's just a jolt."

A very strong one, but whatever. He has dealt with worse.

( For Buffy; open to anyone wanting to swing through for a tag or two and give them a hard time )

His name had finally been drawn for a specialized mission, which Clint was actually kind of grateful for. Weapons Testing had been quieter since Peggy was arrested, not that there weren't other people also working there, but Peggy was... well... Peggy. Force of nature, that woman, really damn impressive. It was easy to see how she'd maintained a grip over S.H.I.E.L.D. until she'd retired even though she was from a time when she was barely accorded basic respect. Not to mention she was almost as good at provoking bad ideas as Natasha and didn't kill him if he stole her coffee. So with her gone and charged with treason, having a day out of that section was actually kind of a relief, not that he'd really show it.

That was, until he'd gotten to the commissary and gotten to read the whole briefing.

Someone had taken some of the tables in the commissary and arranged them into what was more or less an assembly line, with jumpsuits (mostly red, of course, but a gradually decreasing smattering of other colors as well) piled on one end and an array of cleaning agents, brushes, spare needles, thread, tubs of water, and two industrial-grade sewing machines assembled and ready to go the moment they were turned on. All stuff he was familiar with individually, most of it he had some experience using even if just in a basic capacity, but all together made him just... stop and stare. What.

"...You know, somehow I'd've thought they already had a dry cleaning service here." Certainly he'd done some damage to one of his jumpsuits in the running of the halls that had disappeared, though maybe it had just been thrown in the trash.

( Afternoon, Open )

Once all of that was done, and Clint was done nursing (and in one case bandaging) the stab wounds he'd gotten from the needles, he decided to head over to the gym to get in a run. The dancing at the charity ball the night before hadn't caused him to pull anything, even the overly-energetic swing routine he and Nat had shown off, but that was because he'd been careful to stretch before doing anything else. He knew his body very well and knew he had to do some kind of similar activity the next day in order to keep his muscles pliant, especially after sitting and sewing all day, and it seemed like a good time. Maybe he'd go to whatever entertainment was planned for the night later, but for now he required physical activity.

"I'll take your word for it," Lydia replies, deciding that her suspicion is probably correct. Knowing will only make things confusing. Tony confirms and that's good enough for Lydia. He's one of the few people here with whom she'd trust her life — this Tony might not have been the one to start teaching her self-defense or give her that little blasty thingie, but Tony Stark is Tony Stark, at the end of the day. Just like Allison Argent is Allison Argent, regardless of the hiccup in her memories.

Lydia pauses at his answer. If he's going to give her this, she could probably give her illegal ULTRAVIOLET laser barrel to Allison or Stiles to put on their guns, replacing their crappy RED barrels. Moreover, she could give the YELLOW one to one of them, as well, perhaps. She's also got her ORANGE one, still, too. Maybe she can talk Cisco into giving her one of whatever he's working on to pass on to her friends. Anything he and Tony can come up with is bound to be better than what they're given standard issue, anyway.

"Wait," she says suddenly, as if just now realizing what it is Tony is actually saying. "Wait, wait...you're using that? That doesn't hurt you?" she asks, looking very concerned.

There's a moment, however brief, where Tony almost thinks that he's going to get away with saying what he said without protest. And, granted, he can't say he's surprised when it doesn't work. If the roles were reversed, and Lydia was saying she was going to power some weapons with a device that is keeping her alive, he'd probably (definitely) have a few things to say about that.

The main difference is that Tony doesn't exactly have the best self preservation skills - especially now. It's dangerous since powering two reactors isn't an easy task, but he can't bring himself to care. He doesn't have a problem with being an energy source for something that can help the greater good. Well, the greater good being him and Lydia, but still. It's weapons that they need and could use and, considering this environment, it's worth the risk. Absolutely and completely. Is it risky? Yeah, sure. Does Tony care? No. Not really.

That is why, even if he's trying to not just ignore her concern, he still shrugs as if it's not a big deal. "I mean, I'll probably have to take it easy after I'm done just while my arc reactor recovers, but nah. It should be fine."

Honestly, the only reason he's bringing it up is because he knows he'll have to use this lab instead of the one in HQ to accomplish all this. Mainly because he's avoiding a certain someone, and the last thing he wants to do is freak Lydia out if she were to walk in on it.

"I've used the reactor as an energy source before," he assures her. "It's fine, Lydia."

This was not a mission. This was Buffy's version of Hell. Well, one of them. She'd expected something that would utilize her skills as a fighter or maybe even her skills as a cheerleader, gymnast or counselor (she'd done it for a few months at Sunnydale High). She had not expected sewing. In fact, Buffy is fairly certain that she has never sewed anything in her entire life.

Buffy picks up a jumpsuit, regarding it as if it's something complicated. "Or a Robo-Mom that did all the laundry and sewed on buttons."

M O R N I N G

After a quick cup of coffee in the commissary, Matt stops by his office and does some last minute preparation before he goes into trial. He's nervous because he knows the odds are stacked against him far higher than they ever were back home. He wishes he had a suit here, a tie to straighten. He wishes (for the millionth time) that he had his senses so he could tell a little more about what's going on in his trial through heartbeats and breaths. He wishes he knew all the rules so he'd know how to manipulate them, but wishing won't do him any good so he goes into the trial, does the best that he can and hopes that it's enough

A F T E R N O O N

He doesn't eat lunch simply because he's far too nervous to eat a single thing. He stays in his office and tries to analyze the trial the way that he would back home. He tries to get down the details before he forgets them, feeling that it's especially important he note everything so that he can improve for the next trial. The more he learns about this system, the better he'll be able to work within it. Late afternoon, he finally makes it to the commissary to grab a piece of fruit then he swings by Lydia's store to say hello. His opinion of his performance in trial swings wildly from confident to convinced that he flubbed everything. He'll finish the afternoon back in his office.

E V E N I N G

Matt isn't actually interested in the roleplay game, but he is interested in the idea of something from his time existing. He's also interested in the creativity involved in roleplaying and how that will manifest here so Matt shows up at the Citizen Improvement, at least for a little while. He's finally settling a little after the trial, relaxing and admitting that he did his best; the rest is up to the judge.

He leaves roleplaying a bit early and heads toward the wagon wheel. He's not ready to turn in, but he is ready for some peace and quiet that doesn't involve working on this case.

Edited 2016-11-30 01:45 (UTC)

Sewing was one of those things that Clint had done in the past, but just the very much most basic stuff that only needed a needle and thread. Tacking things together during missions, mostly, when trailing fabric or loose harness straps could mean the difference between life or death. Or, back in his childhood, he'd mended his socks a few times and sewn up rips in shirts more than once, but never anything more complicated than that and he'd long since passed the point where he could afford to just buy clothes to replace the ones he'd destroyed. Clint was capable of a lot of physical things, pretty much anything physical he'd ever tried within human capability, but that didn't mean he was good at all of them especially if he hadn't had to do anything like it in forever.

"Yeah, one of those." He copied Buffy in picking up a jumpsuit and turning it over, spotting stains that he knew were grease, oil - and blood. Fun. "We're gonna be here 'til next month with this pile."

The day and how she spends it isn't anything spectacularly different. But it feels like it is. Having people to care about makes it that way. It makes life far more dangerous. Katniss doesn't need the HappiTime pills to keep her in line. She won't spend time sulking or lost in her depression. There's the every-present fear now of someday having to deal with unwanted consequences if she ever steps out of line. Katniss knows first hand how terrible those consequences can be.

But that doesn't stop Katniss from spending the night in Derek's bed again. If the Computer wants her to be able to function during the day, this might become a habit it'll have to put up with. The nightmares wake her but Derek's arms tight around her lure her back to sleep. Though she still wakes up early, this time she doesn't slip out until waking Derek and letting him know she's going.

The rest of the day follows with relatively well-behaved normalcy. She eats her share of soylent in the commissary (albeit still with some suspicion). She goes to her job and actually tries to put in a half-hearted effort towards a decent performance. At times, work gets a little irritating but somehow she manages not to lose her temper. Every time she comes close, she thinks of Prim. Nothing matters more than protecting her sister.

A sister that she does her best not to seek out every free second. That's definitely easier said than done.

Lydia frowns slightly with concern, but she isn't going to push it. Tony's a grown man and he can make his own decisions. She'd be livid if someone tried to tell her not to open True Alpha because it was too dangerous, and honestly, doing so was probably too dangerous and continues to be. As much as it puts a spotlight on her that could help protect her, it could also highlight the target already on her back and she knows it. So she gives him a little sigh of disapproval, but she nods all the same.

"As long as it isn't going to hurt you, Tony, because I need you in good shape. We all need you in good shape, both of you," she says, nodding over in Cisco's direction as he lifts what also looks like some sort of pistol in the air and turns it over in his hands before setting it back down. That's curious…

Her eyes move back to Tony. "Is there a way to replicate that reactor so that we have a second one on hand to charge the weapons without draining you? Because I'll be honest, I'd really prefer that…"

After checking in with Tony and Cisco, Lydia returns to the front of the shop and settles at her desk. This time of day tends to be slower as most people — the majority of the Complex seems to be INFRARED and RED — are back to work, their lunch hours expired. She's taken to using this time to either restock shelves or check the books; making sure that her drawer is even, the change box is in order, and her inventory lists both digital and hand-written match. Every time someone makes a purchase, the register updates her inventory based on what she's rung into the system, but Lydia keeps track of what she sells each day on paper, too, to make sure its in line. God knows the electronics in this place have a tendency to...be a little faulty from time to time.

When she sees Matt coming toward her, she smiles and puts her books away, rising from the desk and rounding it to meet him just inside the store. Today is his big trial and she's itching to ask him how he's feeling and how it's going, but has a feeling that doing that is only going to make him nervous thinking about it. She's only just able to restrain herself as she gives him a quick kiss and envelopes his middle in her arms, fingers clasping together on his lower back.

"Hi baby, you on lunch?"

Derek hadn't been all that surprised when Katniss showed up to his room again after the Charity Ball. She'd told him before that she had nightmares often and he liked to think that they'd left the ball on good terms with the understanding that whatever this thing was between them, rather than stifle it or fanning the flames, they were just going to let it burn and see what happened. So if she'd had a nightmare, she would've felt comfortable coming to him again, because it had worked the night before to help her back to sleep. He's in a considerably better mood today because he's chosen his top five fitness performers and he means to get them started on this fitness track. At the end of the week, he'll reward them as permitted by The Computer with a piece of fruit apiece. He isn't above subtly bribing them to continue to excel over the following week so that they'll continue to earn their fruit and Derek can show positive results after adding actual food to their diets.

Today, he wants to check in with Katniss and see if she has any especially low performers against whom he can compare his top performers. Those people won't be rewarded with fruit and if they're low performing Alphas as it is, he can show the contrast between those who were rewarded with fruit and those who weren't. The Computer doesn't have to know that Derek's stacking the deck in his favor and he's sure there's no way to trace it anyhow. It's not like they've been keeping records. At least, Derek hasn't been. Maybe Katniss has, but he doubts it. He's going to start keeping records now, though. If he can prove, however intentionally weighted his results are, that Alphas with proper food perform better in fitness tests than those without, then maybe he can actually get The Computer to integrate real food for all of the lower clearance levels.

So when he sees Katniss come in, Derek makes a mental note that as soon as both of them seem to have a moment, he'll approach and see what she can help him out with. For now, he's trying to put This Thing on the backburner while they're at work because he doesn't want to make things weird.

"Morning," he greets her a couple of hours later when both of their lines seem to have emptied out and they're waiting for the next wave of Alphas to come through. "I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you. If all goes according to plan, I might be able to score us REDs some actual food," he explains, lowering his voice.

It’s a variation to Steve’s normal schedule, but after what happened last night, getting up early to run that morning had been nearly impossible. He already knows he’ll be avoiding the outdoor track for a few days.

But just like Steve had promised himself, the time and place for whatever’s going on with him personally? It’s over. At 1300, the closed trial for Oliver, Peggy, Parker and Julianne had begun, and that had been his main priority today. But the trail was closed and the doors were shut.

As much as Steve wanted stay outside and pace, he knew that there was no point.

So yeah, you could say that right now, he needs to run. His PDC is set to ping him in 45 minutes, so that he can be outside the courtroom again at the bottom of the hour, just in case there’s a ruling by then. By the time he changes and is jogging right out of the locker room however, he sees Clint already on the indoor track, just a few feet in front him in the turn.

“Is there ever a time when you’re not running?” he asks, shouting ahead as his feet push against the synthetic and slightly cushioned material on the ground.

Like the previous night, he hadn't turned her away when she had knocked on the door. There had been a small, niggling fear in the back of her mind that he might. That he might have changed his mind about everything. She also thinks that they had left the ball on good terms. That he understood that she really did mean it when she said she'd try. Relationships of any kind aren't something that she's good at. She does't know how this thing between them cropped up and that frustrates her. But she'd try.

She'd like to think that she is living up to that. Though there had been a brief moment of guilt that morning when she woke him up, she didn't want to just leave. That wouldn't be trying. So she had kissed his jaw before leaving. And when she had entered work that morning, she had greeted him with a quick smile before turning her attention to her assessments.

He finally approaches her when there's a lull in the workload and she can't help but smile and duck her a little at the happy feeling that fills her. Katniss looks up sharply seconds later - as soon as he mentions the word food. She's still not eating as much as she could but eventually, she might just again. When she's certain the food is safe. And real food? Wouldn't real food be harder to slip drugs into? "What do you mean?"

Matt has memorized the layout of things in Lydia's store well enough that he doesn't actually need the cane that much as he steps inside. He pauses, hearing her walking toward him and smiles tiredly at her. He's grateful for the embrace and wraps an arm around her shoulders, dipping his head to press a kiss to her temple.

"Yes. We broke for a late lunch a little bit ago. I grabbed an apple at the commissary and at it on the way here." He's too nervous to eat much more than that. "How's your day going?"

He'd like to get his mind off the trial for just a little while in hopes that when he goes back, he'll be a little more clear, a little fresher. He'll be happy to talk to her about how things went later this evening.

The look on her face says he has her attention and Derek pauses briefly to figure out how to word it all so that he isn't leaving her out of the loop while also not sounding treasonous. He has permission from The Computer, but he got it very carefully through well-crafted bullshit and he needs for that house of cards not to topple.

"I talked to Friend Computer a couple of days ago," he says and there's a twitch at the corner of his eye when he says it which suggests how much he hates that: Friend Computer. Some friend. "I'm sure you noticed this in your Alphas, too, but the lower clearance level Alphas in my group tend to perform much more poorly than, say, my YELLOWs do. So, I thought, the only real difference between my REDs and my YELLOWs from a fitness standpoint is their nutrition levels, right?"

He looks around a little and, seeing some of their colleagues milling around, sighs and continues with the sugar coated version. "So anyway, I suggested that adding fruits and vegetables to the diet would improve fitness assessments because their bodies would be better nourished with natural food than with fortified...soylent," Derek has to force himself not to call it slop or shit, which if nothing else, should be a clue to Katniss that he's wording himself very, very carefully. "So now, I've got some of my Alphas chosen, who are maybe a little above par," (translation: his fucking best of the best) "for sort of a control group. Now I'm wondering if you have any, maybe a little lower performing Alphas I could borrow for the week so I have a...well-rounded study to support my theory," he continues, giving her a significant look. Translation: fuck well-rounded, give him the worst of your worst. "Basically, if I can prove that the Alphas with food perform better than those without, I might be able to get some traction here, and Computer has given me permission to do the experiment with a piece of fruit a day for a small group."

Derek has his own temporary food source, so he and Katniss and his roommates can share that without taking away from this experiment which he fully intends to rig in his favor. "You don't have to give me names right now, we can discuss in more detail when we go to lunch," he says with another significant look that he hopes translates to I'll explain later.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 3

Daycycle 117 [ November 27 - December 3 ]

daycycle 117

[Nov 27 - Dec 3]

Open | Throughout the Day

Afternoon

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Closed-ish and then open

no subject

no subject

For Clint, but also open to anyone popping by

Open | Throughout the day

no subject

Open | Throughout the Day

no subject

Afternoon

Late morning

Afternoon

Re: Late morning

Re: Afternoon

no subject