Daycycle 119 [ December 11 - December 31 ]

[computerized]

daycycle 119

[Dec 11 - Dec 17]

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

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

Oliver Queen and Ronan Lynch have been selected for today's mission. Details are below:

‘This data disk contains the design specifications for a weapon recently approved for mass-production by The Computer. Take it to Factory 17 and give it to the YELLOW supervisor on duty there, and he will give you a reward. Be on high alert. We don’t really need to explain who else might want these design specifications, do we?'

---

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 1500, Very Special Forces will be present at the reopening of the Bot Processing factory. Infrareds have been working around the clock to get a fourth of the facility back up to code so that production can resume. The event will be broadcast throughout the complex as a testament to Alpha's resiliency. High ranking BLUE officials will be present and security will be high. Steve Rogers will be asked to take the stage and speak about the efforts Very Special Forces have taken to improve Alpha security. At approximately 1512 shots will ring out from the edge of the crowd. Cameras will swerve to capture the commotion as a RED with a gun is taken down by Very Special Forces. Two more shots will ring out in the commotion. When the camera swerves back to the stage it will be to find Steve Rogers has been shot.

Meanwhile, at 1515 a bomb will detonate in Personal Legal Defense Practices, completely destroying the office of origin and the office above and below it. This bomb will be meant for Matt Murdock. The only indication it is there will be the faint ticking of the old reckoning watch it's attached to.

---

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 1800 in the Commissary and will be hosted by the Eponk Club. The Eponk Club is a collective of Alpha women who come together annually to network and work together to plan improvement projects to benefit all of Alpha. Technically, the club cannot be for women only, so all are "welcome", but those with XY chromosomes might find themselves seated at the back of the room and completely ignored by club leaders.

---

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.

Comments

Matt | All Day

[preemptiveforgiveness]

M O R N I N G

The morning is reasonably ordinary for Matt. He grabs coffee and something that resembles a bagel then he heads to his office. He's had his first successful trial and he wants to analyze everything. He needs to figure out why Peggy and Jillian weren't released. He needs to figure out what he did wrong. He also wants to see what he can do about getting some of the others that are being held without a trial actual trials. Matt became a lawyer to make a difference in people's lives, to help people and thus far, he hasn't been able to do that to his own satisfaction here. He'd like to change that, but it's only going to change with work.

A F T E R N O O N

He goes down to the commissary for lunch, lingers a little while then heads back to his office. He's got plenty of work after the trial and he wants to get started on it. He doesn't notice any difference in the office at first. It's only after he pauses the recording of the trial yesterday to ruminate on it that he notices the ticking. In any other place besides this one, in any other world it would be a commonplace noise, that soft rhythmic sound.It raises alarms for Matt because he hasn't heard anything ticking since he arrived. His heart catches in his throat and panic blooms throughout his entire body. He pushes away from his desk, knocks over his chair in the process and barely remembers to grab his cane. He bursts into the hallway, yelling at the top of his lungs. "Get out! We've all got to get out!"

Matt isn't even certain what is wrong, but he knows something is out of place. He remembers hearing somewhere that people reacted to hearing the word 'fire', so he screams at the top of his lungs "FIRE!" He's then going to go to each office and yell, insisting that everyone leave right now, that they make their way back to their rooms or the commissary or where ever they feel safe. He really just wants people to get out of this area. He'll stay too long, trying to get everyone out and he's barely going to make it out himself before the bomb explodes, shooting debris and destroying the area. He makes it out with only a few scrapes, bruises and minor cuts. He will head to the medical unit to be checked over, but he doesn't need much more than a few plasters: one above his brow, one on his cheek and a couple on his arm. He's lucky. He just wants to make sure everyone else got out and he won't stay in the hospital long. He needs to find out about the others.

E V E N I N G

After dinner in the commissary, Matt heads to the Specials Headquarters. By now, he's heard about Steve Rogers being shot and maybe it's paranoid, but he doesn't think it's too paranoid to assume the attacks were personal. After all, the bomb was in his office. He wants to do some work, some theorizing about the attacks and he doesn't want to be observed by a camera while he does it. Anyone coming into the specials headquarters will find Matt pacing and talking into his PDC. He probably sounds a little crazy and definitely paranoid. When someone does come in, he'll stop, too paranoid to continue until he knows who's here. If higher level Specials are being targeted now, he's got a lot more to worry about than just himself. Lydia is only a level behind him and with her new business, he expects she'll pass him up soon enough. He wants to figure out who is targeting them and why before anyone else can be hurt.

Oddly enough, this feels more like home than anything he's done here so far. He's not wearing his Daredevil suit; he doesn't have his senses and he's got no idea of how to proceed if he does find out who is attacking specials, but this is what he used to do at home: find people responsible for hurting others and stop them. He hadn't realized he'd miss it until now. He misses being able to make a difference, to help people.

Evening

[sanguinescry]

It's been an especially long day, because Lydia's heard about Steve; she's been to visit him. She's heard about the bomb in the legal office, and while she's still not really sure where Matt is or if he's okay, she's been, quite frankly, too afraid to actually reach out to him or look for him to ask, because it feels like A.S.S. all over again. It probably is A.S.S. all over again and they know she's an easy target, so painting the bullseye bigger than she already has by opening the store, by visiting Steve, by rising to YELLOW in a few month's time is worse. It hadn't occurred to her in her silent panic to message him on the PDC. But venturing out to find him isn't safe.

It isn't until she gets down to the HQ and Gucci greets her at the door that she realizes she's neglected to add Allison, Matt, and Steve to Gucci's watch list. Stiles is on it and Lydia herself is on it. She's fairly certain that Barry is, although she'd have to check, but she hadn't thought to ask Root to extend it to anyone else before she'd been arrested and she'd completely forgotten to ask Tony. If she'd been on top of things, two out of three of them might have had a very, very different day.

She notices Matt a few seconds later and relief floods over her as she moves quickly to him, just this side of running, and throws her arms around him. "Oh God, you're okay...I'm so glad you're okay," she breathes against his neck. "I was too scared to come looking or go to upstairs to your floor from the Commissary..." Lydia pulls back to look at his face. "Are you okay?"

[preemptiveforgiveness]

He likes to think that if he'd been seriously hurt, someone would have told Lydia. Regardless, if he'd been seriously hurt, she couldn't have done anything anyway. She would have simply been worrying with the knowledge that something was seriously wrong. Yes, it has occurred to him that this is the work of A.S.S. as well and he doesn't like that idea. He had hoped that group had disbanded, or been disbanded. If it is A.S.S. again, he's glad that Lydia didn't paint that bullseye bigger. This time, it wouldn't be only his actions that are getting someone he loves hurt, but what he is as well. All in all, it's probably a good thing Lydia stayed away. He probably should have let her know via the PDC, but if she hadn't heard about the explosion, he didn't want to worry her needlessly.

Gucci knows not to alert when Matt is around, but he's not sure that he's on the dog's watch list. He's not even entirely sure how that works. Tech has never been his strong suit. She doesn't need to blame herself. This was all the act of some cruel, stupid people.

Matt pauses, turning toward the door when it opens, only realizing it's Lydia when she starts to move so quickly to him. He's come to recognize her footsteps and her scent though his senses still aren't anything compared to what they once were. He can't knock them too badly; his hearing is what saved himself, and many people in legal services. His arms wrap around her and he bows his head against hers. "I'm okay," he assures her, a grateful look on his face. He's got a band-aid above his left eyebrow and on his left cheek; there's some bruising and small cuts and scrapes on his left forearm where he had his jumpsuit sleeve rolled to his elbow. They'd check him over for a concussion in the medical unit, but he knows what a concussion is like and he knows he didn't have one. "I'm okay," he tells her again, his hands going to cup her face. "Are you okay?"

Emotionally, he means because he thinks he would have heard about any other accidents.

[dorkify]

Morning

The morning starts out normally enough for Gracie. She has breakfast in the commissary (she's gone back to drinking the coffee) then heads to work to do her morning report. After that, she helps produce a couple of the shows and drafts some idea for future reports and network transmissions. About half way through the morning, she pops down to the commissary for another cup of coffee then she'll be back to work. Gracie is more content and happier here than she might have imagined she would be when she first arrived. No, it's not an ideal life. There are so many problems with the complex, but she feels like she's beginning to make a life here that doesn't suck. She's as surprised as anyone.

Afternoon

Gracie has lunch in the commissary, talks to a few of the alphas and chats with the friends she's made here. She heads back to work after lunch. The re-opening of the bot processing facility is being televised, of course, so there's a lot of work to do setting things up for that. She's excited about the re-opening because, however insignificant, she feels like everyone here, her included, had a hand in helping it get re-opened. Maybe it's not true. Maybe the charity ball was just a placebo to make everyone feel better about what was going on here. Regardless, she is happy about the re-opening. She arrives early to help make certain everything is ready to be televised.

The only time Gracie has ever been involved in a shooting is her first day here so when the shots are fired, she doesn't automatically register what it is. The panic and the noise has her crouching low out of self preservation. There's screaming (and perhaps she's one of them). She's not a hero, but once the shooting is over, she participates in the mass panic by surging toward the stage in an effort to find out if anyone was hurt. Cisco and Tony are somewhere in the crowd. They're both friends and they've been hurt in this facility before. Every bit of contentment and happiness she might have felt about this place earlier in the day has evaporated.

Evening

She's found herself in tears more than once since the shooting. She'd been so hopeful about life here before that and it was all gone in a matter of seconds. Yes, everyone is fine and from what she understands, they caught the shooter, but she has also heard about the bomb that took out the legal defenses office. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that they're related, though she's not sure how exactly. Investigative reporting hasn't ever been Gracie's thing, but if things like this keep happening it could become an interest.

She takes dinner in the commissary, sitting alone at a table. Right now, it feels like everyone and everything in this place is betraying her. She also knows she ought to be a voice for something but she's got no idea what. She wants to make a difference. She wants people to realize that they're only hurting themselves, but they seem so determined to do exactly that. She knows she ought to be talking to people about this, about how they feel, but she can't find the motivation to put herself out there.

After dinner, she half-heartedly attends the Eponk Club event because she feels like she should. She talks to a few of the women, notices the way any men attending are ignored and ends up slipping out early to wander around the complex. She's not depressed, not exactly, but she is feeling out of sorts, betrayed and upset by the day's events.

Evening

[runsonwater]

Food is the last thing on Barry's mind, but he's been running around trying to actually gather and examine the forensic evidence from the bomb in legal defenses while also trying to sneak away enough to check on his friends and ensure that the HQ is still safe that he can't risk the chance of doing one more thing out of the ordinary.

The food looks even more unappetizing than normal and he's about to sit down and force down a few bites before spotting a new face in the orange section of the commissary. He'd only met Gracie briefly at the ball, but it had been more than clear that she was someone special for Cisco. Seeing her sitting there all alone, he doesn't hesitate in moving over to her table.

"Mind some company?"

If she wants to be alone right now, he can definitely understand that. He's just not sure if he wants to be.

[dorkify]

It's been a busy day for Barry. Gracie doesn't blame him for not remembering to eat. There are days she doesn't eat more than a bite or two because the soylent that makes up the majority of her meals is disgusting.

Gracie has only been an orange for a day. She's still getting used to it in general. She's doesn't notice Barry until he speaks, but when he does, she looks up and smiles once she realizes it's him. She remembers meeting him at the ball. She also remembers laughing and blushing because he'd given Cisco a thumbs up when he thought she wasn't looking. She knows that he's a friend of Cisco's from their world.

"Not at all," she tells him. Alone is probably the last thing she needs to be even if she did want to. More importantly, she's interested in getting to know Barry because he's someone important to Cisco. "I'd ask how you were doing, but I'm not sure anyone is doing great today."

For obvious reasons.

[a_man_out_of_time]

The Assassination [ Closed to Bucky and Buffy, though anyone is welcome to see what’s happening or get close ]

This We’ll Defend.

Three words that Steve has lived by his entire life, ever since he was old enough to read and research his dad and the 107th. When he first saw the motto of the United States Army in the pages of a library book, he couldn’t help but run his fingers over the ink.

This We’ll Defend.

Three words Steve still lives by, to this very day.

Because he was asked to speak this afternoon, Steve was taken off security detail, unlike the rest of VSF, who were all on active duty as he talked about the improvements he and Bucky been trying to make across the Complex to improve security measures. Their goal, ultimately, is that next time, divisions can detect and disarm bombs before they go off — before they kill dozens or hundreds of innocent people.

The speech is going pretty well, until it suddenly it isn’t.

There’s a split second right before the first shot is taken, when Steve sees the glint of a metal gun frame in the crowd and his first instinct is to yell for everyone on stage to move, but he hesitates. Because laser pistols with a plastic-like coating are standard issue here, not metal. Even the upgraded sniper rifles every member of VSF has strapped to them this evening comes with a black coat to prevent them from reflecting and giving away your position. So Steve hesitates, because seeing an M9 in the Complex, with its stainless steel upper frame, just like the one he used to have decades ago, feels so out of place that he thinks it must be his eyes playing tricks on him. That small moment of hesitation is the all the shooter needs to find her mark.

Steve hears the crack of the bullet leaving the barrel, but his mind doesn’t register the lead as it breaks through his skin and lodges into his chest. Instead, all he’s reacting to is the fact that shots have been fired and he needs to protect the people on stage with him. There are citizens ranging from INFRARED all the way to BLUE up here, and his first instinct is that the shots are aimed at them, not him, so Steve spreads his arms out and steps in front of them, and orders them to get down and to move, now.

The next two shots are fired towards the stage, towards Steve, but both are on flight paths that would have missed him, if Steve had just worried about dodging instead of getting everyone else to safety. The first bullet ricochets off the wall before hitting the ground, but the second one, veering off course, is headed straight towards the single INFRARED citizen on stage. There’s no doubt that from a political perspective, she’s only there to solicit some type of empathy from the masses of INFRARED citizens who worked around the clock to patch up Bot Processing. But Steve doesn’t see it that way. He sees her as a life worth protecting, so without a shield, without a vest, without gear, Steve throws himself towards her, taking them both to the ground.

The bullet enters his back, lodging itself sharply into his abdomen. This We’ll Defend.

That’s when the cameras come swiveling back towards him and Steve is seen lying on stage. The INFRARED is dazed but unharmed, and Steve’s expression is pinched, and his GREEN jumpsuit getting darker by the second with his blood. At some point, he feels someone pushing him over so that he’s laying on his back, and he feels the front zipper of his jumpsuit being tugged down. Even the cameras will be able to see that Steve is wearing a simple, white, crew t-shirt underneath. Or at least, it used to be white. There’s just half a second, during the commotion, that half the stage and probably half the audience watching through the broadcast, all just stare in silence, stunned.

Turns out, blood red is a striking, beautiful color, especially as it seeps and grows, staining and claiming that white, cotton fabric as its own.

Hospital [ OTA from 20:00 - 22:00 ]

Captain America is a terrible, terrible patient. And yeah, Steve hasn’t felt like Captain America for quite some time now — which is its own complicated mess — but the first thing he remembers when he wakes up, is how much he’d wished he had his shield that afternoon. He could have protected people for longer that way. Steve would laugh, if he could, because a few months after Siberia, he thought he’d finally let go of the thing. But it turns out, he’d just needed a reason to need it again.

When he wakes, he tries to talk, tries to move, tries to get up — because no, Steve’s not used to his body sustaining injuries instead of healing them, not anymore — and multiple hands have to push him down. But it’s too late. Steve’s put so much stress on his body that his wounds start bleeding again, and a nurse has to immediately inject something into his arm to knock him out.

By the time anyone’s allowed to visit, he’s … calmer. Sedated and groggy in a way that’s obviously been medically induced, to prevent him from hurting himself or doing something stupid like walking out of the room.

[ ooc: Anyone who would like to visit Steve in the hospital tonight also has the option of seeing Bucky there too. We won’t be playing 3-person threads unless you specifically want that, but know that he’s in the room for most of the evening. Your character can also come visit right when Bucky just happens to have ducked out. ]

Assassination

[onceahero]

Bucky has never had goals in the same way Steve does. He protects and defends those who can't quite do so for themselves. It's how he met the scrappy little punk who became his best friend and his brother, after all. He works hard, a holdover from a childhood during the Depression, becoming the man of the house after his father died and doing right by his mother and sisters.

But he's never dreamed of anything close to the forces that push and pull at Steve. Maybe that's why he became the sniper, the help in the shadows.

Just one of several dozen VSF members offering protection to the high level guests in the crowd this afternoon, Bucky's attention wavers between Steve's efforts on stage and keeping an eye on his part of the crowd. The problem with this kind of event is the lack of being able to move around. His brain does not like enforced inactivity, especially now that he remembers a lot more than he did after first arriving, and those memories are just as likely to loop through his head now as in the middle of the night - provided he hasn't been fully dosed with that damn sleeping gas.

Unlike Steve, he doesn't see the glint of a metal barrel. But he hears the crack of a shot, and turns away from studying the body language of those guests closest to him and toward the stage. Just in time to see Steve get shot the first time.

In retrospect, he won't quite recall the next few seconds; only that there were multiple shots fired, and the majority of Forces members are surging towards the shooter -- including the little blonde with the weird name -- while Bucky opts to get to the stage. Protocol dictates that he check the civilian first, but she seems alright aside from some scrapes and bruises, and easily passed onto another military personnel. He probably won't recall the nonsense reassurances that she'll be fine, but let this nice RED policeman escort her to a safe distance.

The only focus he has right now is getting to Eligible Bachelor #27; kneeling down next to the prone figure and carefully turning him over, and opening the jumpsuit, in order to better assess the damage. Someone snarls an order to alert Medical that they have a shooting victim, and for somebody else to get one of those damn first aid kits, but Bucky probably won't recognize his own voice issuing said orders until later. Not while he's staring down at Steve's bloodstained shirt and pressing his own palms on the exit wound to try and stop the flow of blood. And where the fuck are those EMTS?

"Don't die on me. Don't you dare die on me, asshole."

[a_man_out_of_time]

It wasn’t so long ago, really, that the Winter Soldier himself had shot a round straight into Steve’s chest. That is, after sending a bullet into his shoulder, and another one before that to graze his leg. But even if Steve can see the top of his sniper rifle sticking out from behind Bucky’s back, Steve’s mind doesn’t go there. No part of him ever questions Bucky.

Instead, when Steve’s eyes focus on his best friend, the only thing he wants to do is grab ahold of his arm and pull himself up. In his mind, he reaches out, but when nothing happens, Steve looks down and sees that his arm has barely moved from its location on the stage floor. The back of it feels wet, like it’s touching some kind of thick, warm, liquid, and Steve’s throat feels swollen, like his body is so busy trying to do damage control that it’s decided to plug up his ability to talk, just to save energy.

And … is that copper-like taste at the back of his mouth … the taste of … blood?

Don't die on me. Don't you dare die on me, asshole.

Everything sounds and feels so muted. Like he can barely hear what Bucky’s saying, even though his ears should be working just fine. Steve can tell by now however, that Buck’s got his hands on his chest, and the pressure itself is numbed out too by the fact that blood was leaking out of him too quickly.

In the back, he wants to say, but can’t. The woman has an M9, military-issue. RED jumpsuit. But the words never come out, instead, Steve swallows as he just tries to stay awake.

He needs to stay awake.

Hospital 22:45

[alphanpcs]

Nothing ever really surprises Lulu anymore. The riots, the chaos, the terror...it's too commonplace in Alpha Complex to be out of place. Living in a perpetual state of mild to crippling fear is just par for the course. Except...

Ever since the Specials were released into the Complex, it's not as daily. It's not as perpetual and Lulu thinks maybe there's something to that. It's why she lurks occasionally on the Specials Supporters Anonymous chats and seldom, but sometimes, contributes to the conversation. The Specials are picking up speed and they're gaining as much appreciation these days as they are resentment. Still the larger part of the population, to her knowledge, is mostly indifferent, but the fact that the Specials are gaining some traction, making waves, and causing positive changes in the Complex is hard to ignore.

She likes Steve Rogers a lot. She's liked him since she put his clone through the battery of tests before he was to be awakened and taken to the Orientation. It's not just that he's very handsome — he is — or that he looks like he was carved out of stone — he does — but his experiences and ideals; the person that he is underneath the Repression System...Steve Rogers is impressive.

Hearing that he was the target of an assassination attempt also does not surprise Lulu, but it concerns her, never the less. She waits until after curfew when she's sure that he won't have any other visitors. Steve could be fine right now if she hadn't done her job so well. If she can help him, he can use that strength and unwavering goodness to fix this place. Lulu's very quiet about her interest in making things different around here, because she remembers where she came from and she doesn't want to go back. She wasn't always a VIOLET, after all.

Lulu knocks gingerly on the door before entering the room, frowning slightly to see him in a hospital bed like that; physically fragile when she knows he really isn't. She clears her throat softly as she closes the door behind her and then chews on her bottom lip before finally offering up a near inaudible, "...how are you feeling?"

Hospital: 21:03

[whosalicewhite]

Parker's been watching, waiting for a few minutes of along time with Captain America, or Captain Rogers, or whatever the hell he wants to call himself. She's caught a slight gap between one of his admirers and medical staff, where the room's been left at low light. It makes it easier for her to creep in through a vent.

She'd seen the attempt on his life, and considering how he's the darling of the computer, the people, and even the deep web fawns all over him, that anyone (other than her) would make an attempt intrigues her. It intrigues her enough she has to find out who was really behind it.

She disappeared before the perpetrator was identified or if they were. No matter who it is, Parker's sure it's not a one person job.

She stands just out of arm's reach. Parker's suspicion of him means she's added an extra 2 inches to that distance, wanting to be sure he can't reach her. Out of her assigned colour, she's dressed in all black, including gloves and a hat. She's not leaving fingerprints or hair to analyze. That's for amateurs.

The only thing that makes her stand out in the darkened room is what she's holding. It's his mail.

There is a dilemma. She wants to interrogate him, but Parker's not used to purposefully being noticed. Thus, she's going to start off with something utterly ridiculous but totally sensible to her. I'm the ghost of assassinations past."

"Boo." It's what ghosts say, right?

Assassination

[whattingawhat]

Buffy is standing off to the side, hands folded in front of her and trying desperately not to fidget. She's not good at standing still and is currently occupying herself by scanning the people in the crowd and making up stories in her head about the ones she doesn't know. That guy over there with the thinning hair, he's totally a demon in disguise, but the harmless kind like Clem with better hair. She's busy working on a backstory for the lady with the large ears when the shots ring out. Buffy isn't familiar enough with guns to know immediately what it means, but she is familiar enough with violence that it has her exploding from her spot, leaping into the crowd and doing plenty of shoving as she tries to track down the shooter.

She's a pretty tiny thing, but she's got little fear and no hesitation in launching herself in a flying tackle at the shooter. They end up in a tangle of limbs on the floor, the gun spinning off into the crowd while Buffy focuses on restraining the woman.

Hospital, about 20:30ish

[runsonwater]

Barry has been here enough that he knows the protocol when it comes to visiting patients. He waits in the waiting room until he's told it's okay for him to visit and then he walks down a long white, sterile hallway until he comes to the right room number.

He's surprised to find that Steve's not alone, though of course he's seen his shadow and one look tells him that Bucky Barnes isn't about to leave the room. Barry gives him a grim nod of acknowledgement and moves to Steve's bedside.

"Hey," he says, in greeting though it's noticeably lacking any of the usual semi-cheerfulness that Barry is known for. His expression is a cross between worry and obvious upset. "How are you feeling?" It's a dumb question, considering. "Other than the whole being shot, part."

It wasn't that long ago that he'd been asking Ray Palmer the same question.

Hospital 20:02

[lefey]

There hadn't exactly been a disturbance in the waiting room, but every one of the medical staff, random strangers she had never met were avoiding Morgana and the smile she had put on while they explained on a few occasions why she would have to wait, and how long, and maybe the little orange special should come back tomorrow when there was more time.

Morgana wouldn't move, and so she managed to slip into his room the first time they opened the door long enough in her presence, saying thank you to the nurse in a tone that was far too sharp.

Getting in was one thing... seeing him was another. She stopped, dead in her tracks, suddenly anxious where there had been only anger before. Morgana wanted to run to him, she wanted to scream at him, she wanted to cry but all that came out was a half mumbled 'You're alive, as she walked over to his side, oblivious to the rest of the room.

'You are such an idiot, I saw what you did,' her lip trembled as she looked for and then took his hand in hers, brushed her over hand up over his forehead to check for fever and neaten up his hair.

'I saw, I snuck into the back to watch your big speech about protecting the complex and you got shot Steven... ' she blinked back tears and a sudden annoyance at the fact she didn't know his full name though she was certain her had a second, at the fact she hadn't been able to get to him when he fell, at the fact all her friends seemed to end up bloody and beaten, at the hours of fear that something had happened to him and he'd just vanish like Root had.

'I don't know who gave you the impression you were allowed to be a brave idiot who dives in front of people but they're as stupid as you.' the hand that had previously been brushing through his hair smacked him on the shoulder, not very gently either. Truth was she knew that Steve would do the same for anyone, he had done it the first time they met. But good men die because they care, and he had come so close...

20:00 onwards

[utilitybelted]

Dick has barely left the secret room at all in the last couple of days, he just can't quite bring himself to, instead he sits on his computer (the system rapidly growing in spec and ability the more time he spends on it) and scours through all the systems he can access. He doesn't know what he's looking for, but it feels more productive than anything else he's been doing lately, so he keeps going.

That's how he stumbles across the news that Steve's been shot, and for a second it feels like his heart stops. He's not exactly spoken to Steve much, especially lately, but he still knows that the guy was always there, just kind of watching over him, letting him use the secret headquarters, doing what he can to help... he reminded Dick a lot of Clark, and it was a nice feeling to have such a familiar presence hovering on the edge of his existence.

The hospital is a little too dangerous, a little too busy for him to go sneaking in, invisible or not (and who knows if whatever technology powering his invisibility would interfere with hospital systems), so instead he hacks into the hospital security, hunting through camera after camera until he finds one in the room Steve's currently in, and he leaves it up on the screen, just watching, making sure Steve's okay.

He stays watching until he falls asleep.

hospital - 21:30

[fixedpointintime]

Jack could tell right away that Steve was going to be trouble for him. There was something about that noble, humble self sacrificing type. He reminded him of too many lost friends in achingly painful ways. Friends who had, no doubt about it, deserved better than Jack. Steve has that set to his jaw, that light in his eyes - all the telltale signs that Jack has better than even odds of getting the man killed. Hypothetically. Not that there's currently much danger there.

The fact that the shot has nothing at all to do with him makes it no less awful to watch. Maybe they aren't close enough to warrant it, but Jack's never been one to stand on convention, so he goes to see him anyway. He ducks his head into Steve's room, takes in the silent protector in the corner and offers Bucky a nod, and then turns to the incredibly groggy Steve. "I know that asking how you're feeling is incredibly stupid, but it's the convention."

Hospital, 21:45

[fateless]

Allison may not know Steve for very long, but it doesn't change the fact that she's worried about him. The way he was shot is still something that is burned in her memory and, while a regular teenager would probably be in shock at it, her soldier mentality has taken over more than anything else. Honestly, it's a wonder she's not out there trying to do her own investigation to track down who's stirring the pot and coordinating all the attacks, but all in due time.

Right now, her focus is just to make sure Steve will be okay. Her expression as she walks along Medical Services shows concern, of course, but there's something else shining in her eyes. She's compartmentalizing in her head, separating emotion from facts and trying to build a game plan.

She's a soldier, after all. It was almost nice to play civilian for this long, but the reality of their situation is becoming too much for her to ignore.

With a polite nod towards Bucky, she walks into Steve's room and gives a small smile when she realizes Steve is awake.

"You know," she says with a hint of teasing in her voice, "for a human shield, you don't look as awful as I feared you would." Her expression grows a little serious and her eyes clinically scan the room before focusing back on Steve. "How are you holding up?"

Hospital, 20:45

[greenhood]

He'd heard almost immediately about the shooting because of the cameras, although most of the subsequent information he was getting was second- and third-hand. A speech and then gunshots. After that, nothing but rumors. Steve was dead; he was alive, but in a coma; he'd been shot in the back and his spinal cord had been severed. The reports were scattered and so Oliver went to the source himself.

He looked exhausted and more than a little dazed and Oliver could empathize. He hadn't really used painkillers for any of the gunshot wounds he'd taken, but he knew how much he would have liked them. He'd still been a bit dazed, usually because of the pain instead of the relief of it.

When he arrived at the hospital, he noticed that his new roommate was hovering at the side of the bed. He didn't really want to intrude on a virtual stranger, so he leaned against the door and waited for one of them to notice him and either invite him in or send him away. He knew at least most of what he needed to know. Alive and not in a coma, but out of it enough that Oliver can't tell whether there are any permanent injuries. But at least he's alive. The first person Oliver had felt any sort of kinship with in this place. It was a relief if not much of one.

Evening | For Jack

[lefey]

As days went, this one was up there with the worst.

There had been worse, like her mother dying from some sickness she was too young to understand, or the nights she saw her father die in her dreams only to have it come true...

But it was still up there, especially if she only counted the days since she woke up in the Complex. Steve was her dearest friend in this hole in the ground, and unlike Root just vanishing she had been there to watch him fall, she had seen the blood pool beneath him and stain his jumpsuit almost black as the green cloth absorbed it. Morgana had stood, and sat, and paced in the hospital much longer than she should have until she was allowed to see him...

And then she was ushered out before it felt like any time had passed at all.

He is alive she told herself as she wandered the halls aimlessly. Surely him being alive was what mattered? But what about the people who shot him, was it just the ones that had fired or were there more?

Hell, Morgana didn't even know if Steve was the sole target, or he just happened to be the most famous special and so he was the one targeted first. It had happened before, it wasn't exactly a secret that there was an undercurrent of hatred towards the specials by some groups. She probably shouldn't have been out wandering around, she should've gone to HQ or to her dorm but part of her was looking for a fight.

Anything to stop the ache in her chest or the tears that keep falling from her eyes even as she tries to still herself in the hall.

Morgana decided to go to her rooms, HQ would be safer, but there was a chance she might get the room to herself for a while since Barry had planned to go to HQ to make sure it was safe. Even with a destination in mind, her steps were slow and the route she picked wound around far too many hallways she didn't need to go through.

What if she let herself sleep, and then he died? She had gone to bed one night with a healthy Root only doors away and then never saw her again, and Steve was hurt to start with... what if the people who tried to kill him tried again? Morgana stood frozen in a hall, a few hundred metres away from Orange with tears silently running down her cheeks as she considered how likely it might be that she could run back and manage to get into the hospital again, or if there was anything she could do.

God, she would run though those assassins with a blunt metal pole if she got near them. Why did everything good come to ruin?

[fixedpointintime]

Jack is not as close to Steve as Morgana is. Still, the Specials are a tight knit little group, and it doesn't take a genius to work out a pretty damn good reason for her to be as distraught as she is. She's teetering on the precipice of a breakdown, and Jack can see it. The hallway is probably not the best place to let that happen. So he speeds up his steps, passes the turning to their hall to come even with her, and slips an arm around her shoulders. "Not here. Come on, little one. Let's get you inside."

open ; throughout the day

[fateless]

The first part of the day is quiet. Later on she'll be annoyed that she didn't take that as a clue that something big would be happening later, much how she did the day of the bombing, and while it's an irrational thought it will be there nonetheless.

Still, she moves about her day like all the other ones. She goes to work, she does her assigned tasks, and even has some fun with 'testing out' some of the weapons she cleans. Just to make sure they're working properly, she reasons with her supervisor; this is just her wanting to have a high level of quality control.

It's while she's working on one of the guns that her attention shifts to the screen, and she watches as Steve falls after he's shot. The room around her goes silent for a moment as the surprise sets in, but it doesn't last long. Voices blend and mix in both horror and shock, but Allison stays silent as she watches the screen.

After that, she can't quite focus on her job. She's worried about Steve, and her friends in general, but the sense of helplessness that she's feeling as she finishes her shift is overwhelming. She's not used to doing this - to being on the sidelines. She's not used to watching as things fall apart and not having a way to fix things anymore. It's making the gears in her head turn, coming up with ideas on what to do to try to take some control of something, anything.

She can't just watch as people keep getting hurt around here.

After stopping by the Commissary to get some food, she goes to HQ to give herself some space to think without the Computer watching. Before curfew rolls around, she stops by Medical Services to visit Steve and, once she makes sure that he'll be okay, she goes back to her room.

Tomorrow would be different.

At least tomorrow she could get a chance to switch assignments, and maybe join Very Special Forces.

Morning/Afternoon - Locked to Ronan and Barry

[greenhood]

So he was to come back to the Complex with a running start. Felicity's disappearance had set a fire in him. He either needed to find a way to break her out or he needed to break down the system. Burn it to the ground if he had to. And the ideal situation came about that very morning. After arresting him, they were trusting him to deliver weapons plans? Obviously it was a trap, but everything was a trap here and he wouldn't be caught unawares again.

Out of everyone here, there were only one or two he trusted and only one who had the potential to be faster than a camera could catch properly. They'd never actually had a candid talk about what Barry could do here and whether his speed was still intact, but either way, he had to trust in someone other than himself and that someone was going to have to be Barry.

He told Ronan that he needed to check in with Barry about Felicity before they left and then made his way over, pressing close enough to be unheard outside of the two of them without looking any more suspicious than it being a private conversation.

"I need you to copy something and get the original back to me before we get back to Factory 12, can you do that?"

[runsonwater]

Barry looked up at surprise, if only because Oliver rarely came this physically close to him. Though, when he heard what he was asking, it made sense.

"Yes," he said, meeting Oliver's gaze and holding it. Did he actually know if it was possible? No. He wasn't even sure where Factory 12 was, but Oliver was asking and that meant Barry wasn't going to let him down.

"What is it?"

Evening - OTA

[greenhood]

He had food in front of him, but Oliver wasn't exactly interested in eating. Instead, he was intent on remembering every step he'd taken during his time here and making a map. Not the maps he was able to find on the computer, but actual places he'd been and, more importantly, the locations that weren't on any map he'd be able to locate, like the Specials Headquarters. If he were going to fight this place and the machine behind it, he needed to know how to get around. He needed to get serious.

Every once in a while, he'd open his eyes from the mental imagery and glance around. There were some people here he'd never met and those were ones he took note of. One of the things he intended was to meet everybody and try to deterine whether they were people he needed to be wary of, people he needed to include in some part of his plan or even allies, or simple bystanders.

He made sure to make eye contact with each of the people he saw, even the ones he knew. Even though his nature had grown less sociable, he needed to make the appearance of being approachable if he was going to talk to the people he needed to.

Re: Evening - OTA

[thesavior]

Emma had been in commissary getting dinner herself when she spotted Oliver out of the corner of her eye. He seemed to be focusing on something important to him, but not to the exclusion of everything else. Emma, normally wouldn't have approached him, because it wasn't in her nature to seek out people.

That being said, being in this place had also taught her that attitude would never work here, so once she had gotten her food, she made her way over to Oliver's table.

"Hi there, you look like your trying to bring about world peace or something. Are you okay?"