Daycycle 122 [ January 15 - January 21]

[computerized]

daycycle 122

[Jan 15 - Jan 21]

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

Early, Early Morning [0200 - 0400]
At approximately 0200, several explosive devices planted in Technical Services by PURGE will detonate, damaging several memobanks. In a rush to prepare for the morning upload several Technicians will mistakenly put the wrong memories in the wrong banks. They will catch their mistake before the final upload, but as a result several memories will now be shared across different alpha citizens' consciousnesses. These memories will be experienced as dreams and characters will retain knowledge of them when they wake.

Memory Swap Pairs

• Adam Parrish - Derek Hale
• Zatanna Zatara - Oliver Queen
• Steve Rogers - Ronan Lynch
• Katniss Everdeen - Matt Murdock
• Morgana LeFey - Tony Stark
• Clint Barton - Allison Argent
• Isabelle Lightwood - Lydia Martin
• Buffy Summers - Barry Allen
• Emma Swan - Parker
• Cisco Ramon - Gracie Cannell
• Natasha Romanoff - Jack Harkness
• Primrose Everdeen - Alcide Herveaux

Room 1101 will be woken up at 1200 when a squadron of Internal Security Gray Ops come to arrest Bucky Barnes for treason. He will be led away at gun point and his roommates, Ronan Lynch, Adam Parrish and Oliver Queen will be immediately taken into IntSec for questioning. They will be questioned about the activities of their former roommate for several hours before being sedated and returned to their room before 0500. Bucky's roommates will not remember his arrest or their questioning when they wake, though they may feel the lingering active effects of the sedative for several hours into their day.

The memory of Bucky Barnes having ever been present in Alpha will be erased with varying degrees of success from all those he came into contact with.

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

No Specials will be selected for a mission today.

---

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

At 0900 it will be discovered that the shooter from Steve Roger's assassination attempt has, ironically, been assassinated along with her guards in Armed Forces the night before. The letters mod will be left written in the shooter's blood along her cell wall.

---

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 the Commissary and will be overseen by Clint Barton. Izzy Lightwood from Medical Services has been assigned to assist him in giving a demonstration on basic first aid and wound care.

---

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

katniss everdeen | ota throughout the day

[stillplaying]

morning;

That her nightmares are full of violence aren't anything new. Although having Derek there at night to hold her has helped curb the haunting dreams to a degree, all the recent upheaval in Alpha Complex has practically negated the calming effect of being held. It hasn't mattered how much she's reassured herself every day by spending time with Prim, or how tightly Derek holds her during the night. The nightmares come. Memories of some of her worse moments in life. The Computer would have done her a favor by completely removing her memories. The past few days, she almost wish that It had succeeded.

The nightmares that night are violent and while that isn't new, the degree of violence she witnesses is. Although at one point, the man tells another man not to kill, the way he beats up men in a staircase in another dream seems almost worse. At least Katniss' kills have always been clean - both animal and human. The nightmares don't get any better. Although it's not her, she sees everything from this man's point of view. The truck nearly hitting him as a child. The woman dying in his arms. The worse part about the nightmares is how real they feel. As real as any horrible memory of her own that haunts her at night.

When she finally wakes up, she feels as confused as she had been the day she woke up in the Complex. Her eyes closed, she whispers to herself: "My name is Katniss Everdeen. I'm eighteen years old and used to live in District 12..."

afternoon & evening;

Eventually, she does manage to push aside the memory of the strange nightmares. They don't go away entirely and linger in the back of her mind as she tries to get through work. But actually trying to make an effort there has become important to her. Though she remains skeptical of Derek's plan to convince the Computer to give them actual food, she wants him to succeed. And not just because real food might actually encourage her to eat more (however wary she remains of HappiTime pills being slipped into her meals again). She wants him to succeed because she can almost imagine the proud smile that might momentarily slip on his face if he does.

Despite the strange dreams from the night before, the day continues on as normal. Katniss follows what has become a relatively normal routine: meals in the commissary, work, spending part of the evening at the range with her bow and quiver. She has to stop every now and then to remind herself who she is. And to remind herself that everything in the Alpha Complex is real. Seeing Prim helps.

Finding out that she's not alone with the strange dream experience helps even more.

morning

[duelo]

It'd been a long night. That's all Derek can think because he hasn't felt this unrested since he'd been home. He'd been letting the sleep aid gas do its thing for a while and then he'd been going exploring with Buffy and dropping like a rock. Then Katniss started sneaking into the room he shares with Alcide — Buffy's been promoted; Derek's not sure he feels angry about that or proud of her, so maybe it's a little of both — and he'd been sleeping better.

The dreams from last night are the first that didn't feel like his own in over a decade. Usually, he knows faces. He knows names. He remembers things. He's slept terribly and Katniss has, too, he can feel it in the cold sweat between them that he knows is neither his nor hers, but both.

And then he hears her whispering.

"Katniss..." he whispers back, tilting his head up to see whether Alcide is still in the room and if he is, whether he's sleeping. Derek leans his head back down and kisses the top of Katniss's, fingertips moving up and down her back, beneath the top of her pajamas. "It's okay. You're okay. I've got you." He doesn't know what she dreamed last night, but it's usually about her sister, as far as he knows. Derek assumes this is no different and falls into the normal response of trying to soothe her and remind her that it's okay now, because she's not in Panem and Prim isn't dead.

[preemptiveforgiveness]

With the assassination and everything else, Matt doesn't have time to really think about the dreams until late afternoon when he gets a little downtime. By this time, he's heard a bit about other's nightmares and he knows that it's complex wide (at least for the Specials) which doesn't make him feel any better. In fact, it makes him feel worse because they're being manipulated.

At some point in the afternoon, Matt goes looking for the brunette in his dreams (and that alone was overwhelming because Matt has always been able to see in his dreams, but they're all old images or images that he knows his mind has created from what it does know, which isn't anything visual so for the first time since he got the implants out, he saw new things). It takes a little while to find her, and some describing her to several people. When he finally does find her she's on her way to her room. He stops her, suspecting that she knows who he is because of his dreams.

"Katniss?" he asks tentatively because he's got nothing to go on but visual cues and what everyone else has told him. The visual cues don't do him any good.

evening

[littleducktails]

The Everdeen sister's lives are...different than they were; it's strange that everything has similarities to the time in 13, but it's still different because it never felt like Katniss was actually there. Here they see one another every day, like when Prim was younger...even if it's not in the relative squalor that they grew up in. Focusing on that, at least for a little bit, helps Prim feel less invasive and less inclined to feel curious and then guilty about Alcide's memories. Despite the urge, several times, to tell her sister about her dreams...to ask for help, Prim doesn't.

Instead she keeps it to herself, trying to be not only less of a burden, but more independent...she's no a baby anymore, after all, no matter how the older Everdeen might see things. Really, Prim has no certainty about that, buts sometimes she thinks that will always bee how her sister sees her: the baby sister that needed saving, that always needs saving. It's not bad, it's just....sometimes she wants to prove herself, and to make Katniss proud.

That line of thinking only distracts the thin blonde so much, though. Anything to not dwell on someone else's...relationship and death. Because it just feels so wrong, so....rude. "Have you ever been on a mission, Katniss?" Prim asks, the question actually startling herself for a moment. Her own had been pretty eventful.

Does Katniss know about that? About...magic. It is something better to focus on. For the moment.

Derek Hale | ota throughout the day

[duelo]

morning

Without the distraction of trying to calm Katniss and remind her that everything is fine, Derek has entirely too much time to think about last night. His dreams were more vivid than they have been since his arrival here. He's fairly certain that Ronan, for whatever reason, played a pretty big role, but the rest is really confusing. It's hard for Derek to identify with the images in his head, but they're so real that he feels like he experienced them himself when he knows that he didn't.

He's sitting alone at the end of a table in the Commissary choking down soylent while he's trying to work it out. Were those stories that Isaac had told him about the way things were back home and Derek's subconscious is pulling them out of nowhere all of a sudden and filling in blanks however it can? Is Ronan supposed to be Jackson in this scenario? Was the fight his subconscious mind's way of making sense of the kanima mauling Mr. Lahey to death?

If that's the case, why did he/Isaac-with-the-wrong-face — surely another Alpha he's seen around in passing standing in because dreams are ridiculous — live in a trailer when Derek knows Isaac lived in a house? Why the hell was Ronan/Jackson laying on a bed with him/wrong!Isaac? Derek knows that Jackson watched Mr. Lahey beat the shit out of Isaac for years and did nothing. There's no explanation for the quiet companionship in the dream. Is there a significance to the Transformer that Derek missed because he's always thought dream interpretation is a load of horseshit?

And most importantly, why does Derek feel like he lived it, rather than like he dreamed it?

afternoon

For most of the day, Derek is working on his final reports for the research study. He goes to his troubleshooting station, cranks out the few assessments he has for the day and then, giving Katniss a quick kiss before leaving, gets permission to work independently.

Half the afternoon, he's in the Commissary with paperwork on one side of him and food on the other, and the other half, he's in his and Alcide's room. This stupid report is incredibly important. So much so that that fleeting kiss to Katniss — a domestic, relationshippy sort of gesture they'd never shared which, therefore, shouldn't have felt as reflexive as it had — is sort of the last thing on his mind at the moment, even though it really, really shouldn't be.

citizen improvement

While Derek doesn't typically have any interest in whatever stupid activity is set up for Citizen Improvement, now and again, something will grab his attention. Seeing as how he's stuck in this entirely too breakable human body for now, he decides that learning basic first aid is not actually a bad idea. So, after he finishes up the last of his reports for the research study to turn into The Computer in the morning, he heads down a little late.

Largely, Derek hangs back and listens. He nearly never makes a real effort to participate in anything offered by The Computer and this is not exactly an exception, but where needed, he'll be a little less stubborn and join in. All anyone really needs to do is ask.

After a long day of trying to put his head back together, he's admittedly much more focused on this particular activity than he ever seems to be with anything else. Mostly, it's because he just needs a goddamn rest from over-thinking his dreams last night, so something like this comes as a welcomed respite.

morning;

[adamparrish]

When Adam wakes, it's with a strangers face still prominently displayed in his mind's eye. When he wakes, his heart is racing and he isn't sure why. Adam used to have dreams, sometimes still does, that made his heart race. This, even though he has no idea how the half-monster half-man got in his subconsciousness, has done the same. It's an unnerving feeling, a feeling that implies that someone has been in his head, poking around where Adam doesn't like for people to see.

Adam knows that face because he pays attention. He's a professional people watcher. He's also very good at going unnoticed while he watches people, learns their behaviors, knows their names and routines before they even know he exists. That's why when Adam enters the commissary that morning and he sees that very face sitting at a table eating breakfast, he marches right over to the table and sits down across from him. Normally, Adam might not be so bold, but he's just unnerved enough by his dreams to throw everything off-kilter.

The bruises on Adam's face have dulled to a barely visible yellow, sickening looking, but almost healed. He's slim and is best described as a sepia photograph, all except his brilliant blue eyes, the eyes of a nineteen year old who was forced to grow up way before he should have had to. They're the eyes of an old soul in a young, beat up body. Those eyes stare at the stranger across from him for a few moments before he leans in and whispers accusingly.

"What did you do to me?" The moment the question is asked, Adam averts his gaze. He's never been able to hold eye contact for very long for all the wrong reasons - beginning and ending with his father.

evening

[stillplaying]

She doesn't always go to the citizen improvement activities. It isn't necessarily a lack of interest as so much an overall desire not to participate. Tonight is different though. There's too much on her mind and she wants a distraction. There had been the strange dreams that might actually have been someone else's memories. And then there had been the kiss Derek had given her before leaving, acting as if it were the most natural thing in the world. There's too much on her mind and all she wants is a distraction.

(Besides, if the Hunger Games are any reminder, a first aid class could be useful.)

What she doesn't expect is encountering Derek there. It makes it difficult to focus on Clint's lessons and she hates herself a little bit for that. But he had kissed her like Peeta would do when they had been pretending to be in a relationship, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Only thing is, Derek wasn't pretending. He wasn't trying to calm her down. He had just kissed her like this thing between them might actually be real.

Despite herself, she steals glances at him a number of times during the activity. She should talk to him, shouldn't she? It's the adult thing. Better than ignoring. Katniss tells herself that again and again until she finds herself approaching him at the end of citizen improvement. She smiles briefly as she greets him, "Hi."

Afternoon

[whattingawhat]

Buffy is patrolling Commissary. That's pretty much her entire job for the moment. She makes a round: 14th floor, commissary, 15th floor, back to Commissary. It's during one of these rounds that she sees Derek in the commissary. In light of everything that's been happening, she really isn't terribly chipper. She's wearing an orange jumpsuit, but then he knows that.

"Hey," she says as she approaches, a tired, serious look on her face. "You okay?"

Because there were the weird dreams then the shooter that they'd been protecting had been assassinated. On top of all of that, she hasn't actually seen her best friend much the last couple of days. It's a lot.

Allison Argent | OTA throughout the day

[fateless]

[Trigger warning: Child abuse mention in white font, highlight over it to read. Italics are dreams and, if included in interactions later, will be flashbacks.]

MORNING:

It starts out with yelling.

Allison doesn't understand it - doesn't know who it belongs to, but it doesn't stop. It's a man, she knows that much, but it doesn't stop. If anything, it gets louder, the slurring at the edge of his words too obvious to ignore, but she can't ignore it. She can't outrun it, either, because no matter where she seems to go, it's there. It's loud, it's louder, it's--

It's a man, looking down at her, red in the face as he yells. As he takes her by the shoulders, so harshly and suddenly that it makes her want to cry out, but before she can he's throwing her against the wall, and--

She doesn't land anywhere. Not anywhere she recognizes, anyway. She doesn't even land, exactly; in a blink she's suddenly in the rain, aiming at something. At someone, she realizes, but it's no one she recognizes.

"Better call it, Coulson," a voice says. A familiar voice, one that isn't really confusing because of who it is, since she recognizes Clint immediately, but what confuses her is that the words are coming out of her throat. What the hell is going on? "I'm starting to root for this guy."

If anyone answers, she doesn't hear it. Just as quick as she had found herself here in the rain, she's suddenly being hurled backwards as an explosion makes everything shake. The sound of the explosion is so strong that she can swear she can feel it in her bones, it feels like it's literally burning right through her, but she can't hear it. The world goes silent as a high pitch ringing drowns everything else out, and--

Allison wakes with a start, gasping as she wrestles against the thin blanket that she had been using the night before. The nightmares had felt so real that she can still feel all of it - she can smell the booze in that man's breath, she can feel the rain on her face, she can hear the ringing in her ears - but at the same time, she knows they're not really there. They're remnants of a nightmare, she tries to remind herself, they're not real, they're not real, even if it's taking all she has to not check over herself to make sure she hadn't really been blown up like her dream indicated.

Not wanting to let the thoughts linger, she jumps out of bed even if her legs feel shaky. It feels like her skin is crawling, and in an attempt to make it stop she goes for a run. Afterwards she gets ready for the day, then she goes to eat something in the Commissary. Her stomach doesn't quite agree that she's ready for a meal, and she's too lost in thought to really focus on anything other than the nightmares that still linger in her head, but... She has to work. She has to compartmentalize, she reminds herself; she'll deal with this later.

AFTERNOON & EVENING:

'Later' doesn't really work out that well. 'Later' brings forth more thoughts, things that don't quite belong to her. The face of a woman she has never met before. A baby that she can't remember ever seeing. A redhead that she has seen around here, but one she hasn't really talked to. Faces and places that she doesn't recognize roll through her head all day, and it's hard to really focus thanks to them.

As best as she can, though, she goes on with her day as she generally would. She goes to work. She goes to the Commissary for lunch, then dinner after her shift is over.

By the time she's done with that, she goes down to HQ where she plans to spend the rest of the night. In her pocket, she has a discarded arrow head - one that she had deemed 'not fit' to be used again and, while she knows she can get in trouble for not discarding it properly, she doesn't really care. By the time she's in HQ, she digs it out of her pocket so that she can run her fingers along it. It's stupid, but the fact that it's something familiar, something that is similar to one of her most priced possessions back home, makes it comforting to hold. And, right now, that comfort is more than welcome. That comfort feels like it's relaxing her enough to put her more at ease, and that's enough for her.

08:00

[a_man_out_of_time]

It’s extremely deliberate, the way that Steve interacts with absolutely no one else in the Commissary that morning. He only has one reason to be there today, and that’s to speak with Allison before she goes to work.

His own dreams from last night are still lingering, even if he thinks he’s gotten that terrible twist in his gut under control. Plus, as of this moment, Steve thinks he has a lot to prepare for today. Even if those plans won’t last past the hour.

“Allison,” he says, approaching her table. He doesn’t sit, however, indicating that this meeting is meant to be brief, and he stands in such a way that indicates he’d like for her to stand as well.

Clint Barton | open, all day long

[pretendtoneedme]

It wasn't that Clint wasn't familiar with nightmares - no, after the life he'd lived, he knew all too much about them. He'd never had the stable, steady life where the only thing to fear was monsters in the closet, and he'd made peace with the fact that his life was going to continue to be filled with a lot of violence in high school, but at least - in theory - that violence would have a point, a purpose. Didn't always turn out that way in the end. But he'd known it was coming. Being in Alpha was actually something of a relief in one way, in that the gas they released knocked him out so far that it knocked him straight past dreams and into unconsciousness, which meant he'd had many, many fewer nights waking in a cold sweat, icy blue creeping into his vision and his mind, than he had even on the farm.

But something had happened last night, aside from it being one of the rare times he had dreams at all in this place, because these weren't his dreams. Sure, he'd had weirder dreams, these were almost bizarre in their mostly-normalness, but he'd had those dreams where you're reliving snippets of your life. And this was not his life - he wasn't female, obviously. But the person he apparently "is" in the dreams was, and it didn't take him long to figure out it was Allison, in theory. The voice, the stance, all of it gives him easy clues to construct an identity. And while he'd seen worse things than his mind was showing him in his own life, what he saw was brutal for a teenager and certainly worse than anything he'd gone through at that time. Fighting, grief, too much death - and monsters. It wasn't enough to wake him up, but it was enough for him to remember everything clearly in the morning.

But this day was going to be busier than normal for him, because it was the day the Computer was going to put on the class he'd requested when he proposed the first aid stations after the R&D bombings, and while originally it had been the plan to get one of the medical people to lead it, somehow it had turned into him. Well. Okay, then. It was another chance to get into the Computer's good graces, after all, and thanks to S.H.I.E.L.D. he did know enough about trauma wound care to be able to give a good baseline demonstration. He had to skip his normal morning run and was barely able take time to force down some soylent before heading out to Weapons Testing for the day. He'd keep an eye out for Allison to talk to her about what he'd seen, but whatever it was was at home, in the past, and so likely wasn't going to destabilize her this instant.

Of course, the news about the break in at AF, the dead near-assassin, and the additional dead guards, didn't make the day easier. It trickled out to his sector in the early afternoon, and Clint had had to stop himself from throwing several things against the walls when he heard. It wasn't his job to interrogate people anymore, but they still didn't know why she'd tried that, and he regretted that he'd never get the chance to find out now. He sent a ping to Steve demanding an update to know that he was all right, he was pretty sure that Steve Rogers wasn't one of the ones dead because the news would've traveled even faster then, but that didn't mean Steve couldn't have been hurt and he was definitely kicking himself about this. A second ping not long after said that Clint wanted to see him after their service firm duties were done, before the evening event. He'd do without dinner if he had to, it wouldn't be the first time. And of course he was still on the lookout for Allison.

But when evening came, there would be no trace of anything on Clint's face aside from focus on the task in front of him, and he'd be lying if he said he really minded in this case because what he was doing would, theoretically, save lives. He spoke clearly, confidently, but in a controlled manner throughout the entire demonstration. The thing he started with was that the first aid stations would only be opened by Friend Computer itself in the case of an emergency, another bombing or riot or potential problem, so people couldn't just break into the things and steal the supplies. (There had been attempts.) Following was a list of everything in the kits - various lengths and types of bandages, burn creams, antiseptics, splints, a few doses of low-level painkillers and sedatives, tweezers, a neck brace, and a small instruction booklet. Nothing to put in stitches, since these were meant to be stop-gap measures until actual medics could evacuate people to the infirmary. Nothing sharp so as not to provide people with any sort of weapons. But enough to help in a bad situation. And then, with Izzy's help, came the litany of "this does this" and "that does that" that went with every piece of equipment, in bald terms that didn't hide that sometimes what people would see while using these things would be horrendous. The gore wasn't overemphasized, but Clint made it clear that if you couldn't stomach blood, it was best in an emergency you did something else to try and help. As he explained various techniques for stopping blood flow, tying bandages, and proper procedure for moving wounded people around, there were demonstrations, mostly using him as the dummy with Izzy doing the doctoring (it was fine, he was used to it). If anyone had any questions as they wrapped up, he'd answer them to the best of his ability, though of course the high-level medical questions he had no clue on and had to refer them to the medics in the infirmary.

At the end of the day, he was kind of desperately hoping whatever had happened the night before wouldn't happen again, because he needed all the sleep he could get.

[fateless]

Considering Allison's training back home, she didn't show up for the first aid class. She knew what to do when people got hurt, she could even stitch someone up if absolutely needed, so she didn't see the need for it. Besides, with how much she had rolling around in her head, it didn't seem prudent to attend a class where she would more than likely be too distracted to even pay attention.

Despite all that, though, it doesn't stop her from stopping by the Commissary towards the end of the lesson. She doesn't approach the class, because she doesn't want to be a distraction, but she still pays attention to what is being said. Clint sounds very sure of himself, of what he knows and what he's sharing, and it's really no surprise to her by this point. She has seen more of Clint's life than he has ever shared with her, and, really. Seeing him being such an expert on first aid is really not surprising.

It's not until people start leaving that she finally walks over to him and, while at first she doesn't really know what to say (what is she supposed to say? 'hey, I saw your life flash before my eyes, how was your day'?), she manages a small smile.

"Hey. Nice job, the class seemed like it went well."

evening

[withstyle]

When Izzy had been the lucky lady from medical services assigned to Citizen Improvement she hadn't quite realized that it would actually turn out to be sort of fun. Then again, she's usually one to deal with dead bodies not live ones. However, she knows anatomy. She knows first aid. In theory, if push came to shove, she could do more than stand there uselessly. The fact of the matter is, though, that as a shadowhunter there hadn't been a need for Dr. Izzy to patch people up. Healing runes go further, after all. And back home....she and those that she knows are made of tougher stuff. Plus, her brother is dating a warlock.

She likes the mystery of figuring out pathology, how someone died, and all of that. Izzy's not heartless, though. The opposite in fact. That might be why a part of her has had Lydia on the brain throughout most of her day after what she dreamed. It definitely didn't feel like a dream, more like a nightmare; the insight into the helpful redhead isn't exactly something she was searching for, especially like that. So, she is glad that she, ultimately, that she was able to help others even if it was mainly via answering the more in-depth medical questions and via tutorial...basically. It still let her focus on something else other than Lydia's confusingly frustrating abilities as a banshee and the hell that being that put her through on a semi-regular basis before this place....not to mention the screams. Plus, wrapping Clint up like a mummy (figuratively speaking) and using him as a prop was definitely something that she couldn't help but get a kick out of; it made for a great distraction.

Back in their shared room now, Izzy's going about her routine. She can't help but pause, though, even though it's pretty damn close to time to hit the sack. "You make a pretty good mummy, Clint." The grin on her mouth forms, despite everything that the shadowhunter has on her mind. "You happy with he turn out and how it went?" Maybe Izzy's prolonging the inevitable. Maybe she's just trying to bond and get along with her roommate. She can't decide which as she makes her way toward their 'cheerful' orange curtains and peeks out the window, a number of things running through her mind.

Steve Rogers, Closed and Open Sections

[a_man_out_of_time]

[ OOC: Steve’s reaction to Ronan’s memories posted separately, because it’s lengthy and depressing. ]

As if his day wasn’t going be rough enough already, Steve’s morning is rougher. Ronan’s memories hit somewhere deep, and Steve spends his entire morning run replaying those scenes in his head. For once, he’s thankful for his clearance level and the kind of access it gets him. He doesn’t want to see anyone right now, and he needs the wind and the cold to shake this off.

His time spent with the rest of the Specials that morning is limited. He finds Allison to offer her a job with VSF if she still wants it, and then he leaves for Armed Forces early. IntSec might be actually giving him what they know about the R&D bombing today, and Steve has a plan for making sure they won’t torture his shooter.

And then at 09:00, all of Steve’s plans go to hell.

[ Armed Forces, Throughout the Day, Evening, Overnight, Open to Armed Forces Personnel or anyone with a high enough clearance level to get into where Steve is inside AF ]

mod written blood.

His shooter, dead. Her cell in Armed Forces, broken into. Her guards, two strong, trained men from another squadron, dead.

When did this happened, he’d asked immediately. The answer made his eyebrows furrow in concern. Early morning, or maybe even midnight last night. They’d need forensics in order to tell, so that’s who Steve called, immediately.

And he drops everything else, because he needs to get to the bottom of this. So he works through the morning, he works through lunch, the afternoon, the early evening. And with a few exceptions, he barely leaves Armed Forces, even when shifts are over and all RED and ORANGE troubleshooters are required to leave. If anyone one his team requests to stay, he’ll grant it, but Steve isn’t planning on ordering anyone to stay here with him beyond normal work hours.

Because after tonight, he barely eats dinner, and he works through the night. The light to his office is one of the last ones still on in the building. When his team reports in the next morning, on DC 123, it doesn’t seem at all like Steve’s left since they saw him the day before.

And he works this hard, pushes himself this hard, for two reasons. First, he can. His body can handle this in a way that it wouldn’t have two days ago. But second, and more importantly, all the clues he learns throughout the day points Steve to a very familiar and very unsettling conclusion. That this was an inside job. That all of this, not just last night’s assassination, but his own shooting, was organized by the very sector he works for — the one that on its surface has approved every mission he’s requested, that has supported him since the day he arrived. It isn’t that Steve was under some delusion that Armed Forces was somehow a lone paragon of truth and justice. No, rather, he’d just never expected-

Steve hadn’t expected Armed Forces to be the most dangerous sector of them all. Worse than Technical, who controlled their minds and their bodies. Worse than IntSec, who controlled their freedom.

Because unlike the other two sectors, Armed Forces might be-

Steve stops. He needs proof.

He’s going to find proof, and when he does, he’ll take down this entire sector if he has to.

[ 14:00, TrueAlpha, Closed to Lydia ]

Marina Sivaraja.

That was his shooter’s name. Once she came into their custody, she couldn’t hide her identity. But when Steve went to see her yesterday, he actually recognized her. It was the same woman that had kidnapped and beat Lydia three months ago. The same voice that Lydia had recognized when they were on their PDC training mission together, and Steve felt himself suddenly understanding what Buffy probably felt when she brought Sivaraja in.

Steve had planned on telling Lydia soon anyways, but now that she’s permanently dead, he feels like Lydia deserved to know. He doesn’t know if the attack still haunts her, but she deserves to have closure, if that’s even possible.

He doesn’t have a lot of time, but he has enough. Forty minutes before the tests he’d ordered would come back with results. So Steve calls for his shared autocar and has it take him to the Wagon Wheel. He works, constantly, until they arrive and he takes the elevator up to the Commissary and to TrueAlpha.

But first things first. The last they’d talked, he’d told her that he wanted to see commercials. Steve has every intention of doing that first. He tells himself that it’s for her, that it’ll make all of this feel easier to take, but in all honesty, Steve could use a reminder than not everything in this place is just a turn away from being terrible.

So by the time Steve actually steps into view of TrueAlpha, he takes care to not look overly stressed. There’s a manilla folder filled with papers in his right hand, but other than that, this should just feel like a normal visit.

[ 17:00, Avengers Secret HQ, Closed to Clint and Dick ]

After the text he got from Clint that morning, Steve had responded that yes, he was all right. When a second ping comes in asking to meet, Steve doesn’t even ask Clint what about before glancing at the clock. After 16:00 might be the perfect time. He wants to check on something in the Avengers Secret HQ around 17:00, so he tells Clint to meet him in the lobby of the Wagon Wheel around then.

If he gets there first, he keeps himself busy. Wherever Steve goes today, he has a file of papers with him, and whenever there’s down time, he’s reading and scribbling notes.

[ 21:00, Wagon Wheel, Closed to Tony ]

Around 20:50, an alarm on his PDC goes off. Steve had set it yesterday after leaving Tony’s room. It feels both just like yesterday and a long time ago, that he actually had allowed himself an hour of just happiness. But Alpha Complex being what it was, always knew how to make life more complicated.

When his alarm goes off, it’s so late and silent inside Armed Forces that Steve’s actually startled for a second before he realizes what’s happening and moves to turn it off. Nearly everyone else was probably back at the Wagon Wheel by now. His commanding officers probably back in their buildings the subsectors. There’s certainly no one else left on his floor.

He picks up the phone at his desk and rings his assigned driver for the day.

“Hey Jeff, I’m sorry to do this to you so late. One last round trip to the Wagon Wheel. I promise. After that I can get myself home.”

He takes the autocar because it’s faster, there’s a driver, and he needs to be able to work while in transport. But that doesn’t mean Steve doesn’t make a note to transfer some extra credits to his driver while they’re in transport. Just ‘cause he’s decided to work late doesn’t mean his staff needs to suffer with him.

“Hey, if you want an extra hour tonight, I can easily-“
“No it’s alright Lieutenant Rogers. I’m happy to do this.”
“Thank you, Jeff.”

They reach the Wagon Wheel at 21:00 right on the dot.

“I should be out in less than twenty minutes. Maybe fifteen.”
“I’ll be here Lieutenant.”

It’s around 21:05 by the time Steve gets off the elevator and walks down the hall to Tony’s door. Three knocks this time, and when Tony sees him, Steve has a folder full of papers tucked beneath one arm. But as focused as Steve has been all day, seeing Tony still manages to tug a smile onto his lips.

“Hey.”

[whattingawhat]

Of course, Buffy heard about what happened and as soon as she did, she goes up to AF to see Steve, to figure out what happened and to see how he's doing. The only time she'd ever been shot...well she knows how she'd felt when Willow had flayed Warren alive and she suspects that Steve's feelings like somewhere between that and...upset. She shows her ID at all the correct check points, barely bothering to flash it by the time she gets to the last one, but once she's through that, she stops short a few feet in front of Steve.

"Hey...Boss." To anyone that doesn't know her, she might sound timid. She's really just treading carefully, trying to figure out how he's handling things so that she can respond with what he needs rather than what her gut tells her.

"Can I join you?" Because maybe he wants to be alone, which doesn't necessarily mean she'll leave him alone. It's all about getting a feeling for where he's at.

[sanguinescry]

This place continues to shake Lydia, but she stubbornly refuses to let it break her again. She doesn't ever want to be or feel that weak again. With Matt teaching her to fight, Cisco and Tony making weapons, and Gucci collecting data while now always at her side, she feels marginally safe, but things like the shooting and the bombings still admittedly make her nervous. She only ever lets Matt see it.

So when Steve arrives, Lydia gives him a smile and gets to her feet. It's a little slow in the store this time of the day when most of the lower level clearance — who happen to be her best and most regular customers because they can't get her quality of product anywhere else in the Commissary or Black Market without it costing an arm and a leg — have to head back to their stations after their lunch breaks. There's a lone other YELLOW Alpha near the bar soaps, lifting each tester and sniffing them as she tries to decide which she likes. When Lydia greets Steve with a cheerful, "hey stranger!" the YELLOW Alpha looks over her shoulder, tenses, and grabs the first bar of soap that catches her eye on the shelf, quickly making her way to the counter.

"One second, sorry," she says and instead greets her customer, a little friendly chatter escaping her as she rings the soap up and puts it into a cute little paper bag, inspired without a doubt, by Victoria's Secret back home. Once the shopper scurries back out of the store, Lydia's attention is back on Steve. "How's it going?" she asks as she pulls her PDC out, knowing he'd intended to come see some of the commercials. She's got the cuts on her PDC still while she and Gracie do final tweaks before they air.

[pretendtoneedme]

Thankfully Clint didn't expect any more of a response from Steve at his texts, but at least he was alive. Possibly injured - it's Steve, after all - but alive. Having a set time to meet means Clint doesn't burst out of weapons assessment right off the bat, because if Steve really wanted to keep something secret, he wouldn't want to meet in person. Clint'll take it over a lot of other options.

Come 17:00 he's managed to grab something to eat really quickly thanks to the small kitchen on the ORANGE level as well as make another small trip. He's walking into the lobby of the wagon wheel a few minutes before the hour, that good blend of "on time" and "early." Steve might hear him coming but he'll definitely feel that small paper ball impact on his folder, either in the center of the folder or directly over any stickers or logos. It's Clint, he has to be a bit of a troll when he can.

"Hey, man," he says as he walks up, hands in the pockets of his jumpsuit. Entirely casual. Just your normal every day guy.

Emma Swan| Open throughout the day

[iamalostgirl]

M O R N I N G

Emma was used to dreaming, but her dreams usually followed a particular pattern. She was usually alone, or talking to her mother about how the only thing she ever wanted was a family, and somewhere to belong. She would take a shuddering breath in, and her mother would start to say how much she loved her, but then she would morph into every foster mother she had ever had telling her in a sneering voice that she would always be alone.

She awoke with a start, but unlike all the other times she had a dream, she felt a panic that she couldn't quite push away. There were never the mention of teddy bears or blown up houses in her other dreams. It left her with an unsettled feeling all day.

AFTERNOON & EVENING

Emma carried on through her try managing to force the anxiety down enough for her to function. She went to the commissary and ate, went to work. The former savior did everything that she was supposed to do, but Emma couldn't quite get rid of the niggling in her brain. It was like having an out of body experience except it wasn't her body she was looking at, she didn't know who's it was. She slid into a chair in the back of the room for the citizen improvement, not wanting to miss it just in case she could learn something useful.

Just before lunch

[whosalicewhite]

Parker has a memory that is not her own. Sure, she may have odd impressions of what happened in her life(like a horse killing a clown) but she knows what is hers and what isn't. She may not always be clear on reality, but Parker is damned sure about one thing: herself.

Plus, she's been through this crap before. Last time it was following some dude McClane around.

The woman, the map (although that looked like an awesome map, was there treasure?), the place, all out of Parker's realm of what is herself. She's fortunate enough to be aware of one thing: she may be an orphan but she sure as hell is not that orphan. No, that orphan had a name, clearly used by someone way too young to be the other woman's mother.

Hunting her quarry could only come after Parker's usual attempts to remain invisible: eat breakfast, go to check in at her job. After that, it was the usual mapping and avoiding of surveillance.

Upon finding her prey, Parker calls out the name from her memory, "Not saviour, orphan Emma." Okay, so she added to the name a little.

Parker, dressed in her uniform, stands there, arms crossed, looking like someone stole her quarter.

Buffy Summers | OTA throughout the day

[whattingawhat]

MORNING

Dreams aren't something that Buffy has been accustomed to in this place. Either she lets the sleep aid knock her out, or she uses her gas mask and doesn't return to sleep until she's exhausted enough to sleep dreamlessly. Despite this, she remembers dreaming and then she remembers slayer prophecy dreams. These dreams feel more like the latter: visceral, tense and real in a way that chokes her. The first dream isn't too bad. It's interesting, clearly a training session, but not her training session. She's met Barry, spoken to him a few times so she recognizes him in the dream and while the last bit of it has her concerned, it also amuses her. Whomever the guy training with him is, he's got plans a,b and c. Also...a speedster. At least she thinks that's what it's called. He's faster than any vampire she's met and they're pretty fast. He's also faster than she was is as a slayer.

The scene changes abruptly and gives little warning as it launches into some weird freak mask electro dude threatening. Everything is tense and there's kidnapping and so many lights that she feels a little dizzy and breathless in the dream. She can feel the horror that Barry felt, the panic and the fear and she remembers that horror, fear and panic. She's never lost a parent this way, but she has lost a parent and that shared dread, that shared sorrow resonates within her and magnifies everything the dream is showing her, everything it's making her feel. Somehow, the biggest surprise (to her) is that the freak mask electro dude is human. She never realized it before how lucky she was that in her world, the demons are usually the monsters and then...Barry's dad is dead (she knows he's dead no one, not even a vampire could survive that--he's got to be...) and Buffy is waking up gasping with tears on her cheeks, memories of how Barry's father was killed colliding with her own memories of when Twilight Angel killed Giles and nothing is okay.

Her shower that morning is extra long, as if she could wash away all those feelings, scald them with hot water and wash them down the drain with body wash suds. Unfortunately, when she gets out of the shower, those feelings linger. She goes straight to the commissary to grab some coffee and to find Barry Allen. He needs a hug very badly, and maybe she kind of does too.

Once she hears about what happened to their shooter, she's heading straight up to Steve's office for a pow wow that's more pow and less wow then it's back to the commissary, 14th floor and 16th floor for patrol of which she is extra vigilant, about considering both the dreams (memories?) and the events of the last 12 hours.

Wow. Mornings suck, don't they?

Afternoon

Buffy's afternoon is much calmer than her morning. She still hasn't shaken the feelings those dreams (we'll go with that for now) dredged up, but she's pushed them down in order to focus on patrol and if she encourages an Alpha or six to move along because she thinks they're loitering a bit too much...well, she's taking her job seriously. She also stops Specials to make sure they're alright (and possibly ask about weird dreams).

Nothing to see here. Move along. What are you looking at? Take a picture. It'll last longer (yes, those words might leave her mouth. Not sorry!).

Evening

Tonight's Citizen Improvement is actually something useful and Buffy is all about useful so she shows up at Citizen improvement, sits a little closer to the front than usual and SO SORRY CLINT, but she's going to ask questions. At least she'll raise her hand like she's in grade school and probably wait to be called on. She knows a good deal about first aid, but most of it is related to blood loss and vampire bites. At least one of those isn't a concern here.

After Citizen Improvement, she'll head back to her room, put on her gas mask and patrol once all the lights have gone out. She'd really rather no one else get hurt on her watch, and if that means she has to be on watch 20 hours a day...well she's functioned on less sleep.

afternoon/evening

[stillplaying]

She's on her way back from the range when she encounters Buffy in the hall. Her quiver and bow are slung over one shoulder and her hair is pulled back in a tight braid. If it weren't for the color of the jumpsuit, Katniss could almost pretend she was walking the halls of District 13 again. But life in District 13 could almost be described as normal in comparison to everything she's experienced in Alpha Complex. Practicing at the range was supposed to calm her. It hadn't been nearly as successful as she had hoped.

Though she should be paying more attention as she walks through the halls, her attention is still focused internally. It's been that way for most of the day. The nightmares have left her as confused and a little shaken about her identity again. She feels a little like she had when she first arrived here. It's enough that she doesn't notice Buffy as she walks down the hall. If Buffy doesn't move fast enough, Katniss might just walk into her.

Cisco Ramon | open throughout the day

[namegenerator]

morning

Cisco wakes up in the morning feeling uncomfortable in his own skin. Like he's been violated in a way he can't quite put his finger on or understand, never mind explain. Moreover, he feels dirty and sullen; he's sure that, given the way this place tends to work, the dreams he had about Gracie last night weren't dreams at all. Glitches, he thinks bitterly as he's pulling on his jumpsuit after a shower, glitches that belonged to her. Glitches that were actually memories that he had no business seeing and his stomach feels sick because if she'd wanted him to know her brother died when she was too small to understand, if he'd wanted her to know about her parents' fights, or her awkward school experiences, she would've told him. The fact that she didn't and he still knows it — and, deep down, Cisco isn't even questioning his own opinion; he knows how this place is. These are real and private and very much Gracie's...and now he knows them, whether they like it or not — makes his skin crawl.

To say the least, he's damn near silent during the breakfast he pretty much ignores, the morning briefing he completely ignores, and the greetings he gets from his boss and colleague as he heads into his own little man cave inside the back room at True Alpha.

If it seems to anyone who knows him that he's drawn into himself, it's because he has.

afternoon

When he finally can't stand his empty stomach a second longer, Cisco finally leaves the safety of True Alpha's back room and wanders further into the Commissary for something to eat. His stomach is still sick with discomfort and try as he might to focus on how pretty his girlfriend looked in the last dream where she was happy, all he can focus on is the funeral and how small she looked.

And how badly his throat hurts when he tries to swallow back the lump that's developed there out of nowhere, because it isn't his memory to recall, but he can't stop recalling it. How small she was, how tiny that casket was — they shouldn't even make them that small... — and the sound of her mother's wailing grief. None of these memories are his and he can't shake them away no matter how hard he tries, because he feels her confusion on top of his own upset in that funeral. He feels her curling in on herself under that fort. He feels humiliated walking down the halls and being treated like a disease. He feels elated for a graduation from a university he never attended, because Cisco feels like those things happened to him when he knows, deep down, that they didn't.

To say that it's throwing him off his game today would be a gross understatement. Cisco's barely there all day, going through the motions with none of his normal animation or interest. He's not engaged. At all.

evening

At the end of the work day, Cisco hangs back until he's sure that Tony and Lydia have gone. He tests the new heat gun he's working on and burns the outer edge of the target which should have instead registered a black hole in the center. He can't even work properly. Nothing's working properly today, not his weapons, not his prototypes, not his brain.

Giving up, Cisco finally leaves the store, locking it up behind himself, and heads down to Specials HQ, ignoring the opportunity to eat — he has no appetite — or learn first aid — he won't remember a damn thing he learns tonight anyway — and he flops heavily down on the sofa with his head in his hands, fingers massaging roughly into his own scalp like maybe he can extract the memories if he just tries hard enough.

Evening

[dorkify]

With everything that's happened today, Gracie is busy from the moment she wakes up with dreams (memories) that aren't her own. At least it's Cisco she thinks, but at the same time, she feels guilty, like she's snooped and found something that wasn't hers to find. There's good mixed in most of the memories, but Gracie thinks that's Cisco, and the way he handles bad, coming through. She's able to see the good in those memories because even when Cisco was horrified or upset, he still dealt with it with his typical optimism. She's dealing with the memories because he's dealt with them, because he's Cisco. Honestly, the knowledge of just how adorable, sweet and good Cisco is over rides the guilt that she got these memories without his consent. Of course, when she starts thinking about it, she's guilty and sick feeling all over again. She eats lunch in what passes for her 'office' (a corner she's sort of barricaded with things); she's working on drafting a video that will do some sort of good, without really knowing how to do something good here.

The upshoot of everything is that she doesn't have time to see anyone and she's not sure what to say to Cisco when she does see him, but once she's eaten, there's not much else to do and she knows, by now, that if she got Cisco's memories, he got some of hers. For the most part, her memories are normal and run of the mill. She's certainly never met her evil twin or discovered that she had powers of any kind, but she is curious about what he saw and if he's utterly bored by her normalness now that she knows he's a super hero. She looks for him in the commissary at dinner then stops in briefly at Citizen Improvement to see if he's there. When she doesn't see him, she checks his room and eventually, finally, Specials HQ. She's never been down here without him, so she's a little hesititant walking in.

"Hello? If I'm interrupti--" then she sees him and smiles sheepishly at him. "Hey, Superhero."

It's as good a way as any to let him know she's got some of his memories. She'll apologize for it in a minute.

Primrose Everdeen | OTA throughout the day

[littleducktails]

MORNING

Prim is a teenage girl. Obviously. However, her dreams...well...they say something else. Something different that she's never quite experienced before in her life. They're confusing, to say the least. She doesn't recognize the blonde woman with the somewhat adorable gap between her front teeth--and she's not sure where the adorable part even came from--nor does she understand who is being discussed. The details are confusing because she doesn't have context, not truly.

However, what Prim does take away from the dream is that...the man cared very much about the blonde and wanted better for the both of them. She doesn't know about the woman's love life, or really the mans, but Prim isn't completely naive. It makes it all the more sad because of the man's fate. The teenager felt not only the hope that Alcide and the blonde could rise above their habits, and the genuine feelings that he obviously had for her, but the sting of betrayal before the bullets. It was that that ultimately spurred her awake even earlier than usual.

Everything was just so...vivid, and so it's all confusing, which is probably the reason that the blond was a bit louder than her normal quiet as a mouse routine in getting ready that morning. It was probably also a part of why the teenager was so...preoccupied when she made her way to the commissary, not quite able to muster up the desire to eat, but doing it...more as a chore or a duty than anything else. Where she's from you don't waste food.

Prim's used to her own memories waking her, but she's not used to this...to the new feelings that hit her; she's a naturally empathetic person, so she can't help but feel for the man...the one whose life, whose memory, she experienced. After seeing what Zatanna could do...Prim can't say that it's impossible that this is real, now can she? A part of her wants to see her sister out, but it's...pride, and perhaps not wanting to burden the older sibling with something else that keeps her right where she is, contemplating who, and where, the man from the....dream is.

AFTERNOON & EVENING

Prim, as always, is happy to go to work. At heart she hasn't forgotten that she feels compelled to be a healer. And not only is she happy to learn what she can, and to help people, but it helps take her mind off of the dreams to focus on other people. The blonde teenager keeps her dreams to herself, not bothering to tell her sister; she doesn't want to cause Katniss any more worry than she absolutely has to.

That doesn't mean that the dream leaves her mind, especially not in the quiet moments that she has during the way. Definitely not during lunch. Despite that, though, Prim forces a smile...even if it's not the normal one she manages. She has something to look forward to in the evening with the medical demonstration, which she doesn't technically need, but she attends it anyway and pays complete attention to what is said (every single word). Healing is something that she cares about and whatever information that she can take in....she just does. She's definitely one of those that offers questions--some of which she knows the answers to, but thinks may help, and some just to reassure her own knowledge of trauma.

In the future, once she's trained completely, though....she'll be one of the medics helping people. And there's comfort in that, though. The reprieve from the dream, though, only lasts so long. Her enthusiasm for the medical-related discussion dissipates as the Citizen Improvement comes to and end and she moves to trail back toward her room, half praying that she won't have any more dreams like the previous one....she doesn't want to dream about memories from her past either, but at least she understands those.

She doesn't understand why poor Alcide had to die. Or why Sookie lied. Prim, obviously, isn't particularly inclined toward duplicitous actions. And...it feels wrong, like an invasion, and the teenager doesn't like the guilt that follows every time she thinks about the man's life. It's not fair that he had no choice in her knowing, seeing, and experiencing his life. She just feels bad. She can't help it.

Reaching up to tuck her hair back Prim walks, and for once she feels like she has something in common with her sister. She's not looking forward to sleep.

evening;

[rouxgaroux]

There are two reasons that Alcide knows that something is out of the ordinary. First of all, he knows the name Prim. He knows it because that's the name of the girl that Zee went on a mission with the day before. He doesn't know Prim, of course, but he does know the name since Zee is his best friend here and he makes it a point to know everything that's going on with her. Second, and maybe more important than the first, is that there is no way in hell that his imagination, even his subconscious imagination, would dream something as fucked up as what he did the night before without any basis for the fucked up-ness of it.

It all felt so real, as if he was living through what Prim went through. It's not just a dream, it's a memory without all the fine print, the context, that should come with it. He felt what Prim felt. He thought what Prim thought. He hurt when Prim hurt, inside and out. It breaks his heart. And it really isn't fair that he has these memories that aren't his. As if he needs another reason to hate the almighty computer, this only adds to that.

He goes through his day at work on border patrol as normal. All day he thinks about Prim, Zee and what these dreams might mean. Did someone dream about him too? The thought makes his stomach roll with discomfort. It's just not right. It's another thing to add to the list of injustices in this place.

By the time everyone is off for the evening, Alcide is walking too. He's actually looking for Zee when he spots Prim, walking aimlessly and looking just like she had in the dreams/memories. He wants to hug her and tell her it'll be okay. She doesn't know him from boo though, so he's pretty sure that wouldn't be welcome. He settles for a simple approach. This man, taller than most and broad, build like brick wall, approaches her. "Hey. Uh... Prim, right?" He says, a few feet away from her. He feels like he knows her and yet he shouldn't know her. "I'm Alcide Herveaux..."

And now to make it less awkward, to give himself a reason to be speaking to her at all. "I know you went on a mission with Zee yesterday. Zee and me, we're friends. Just thought I'd... introduce myself."

Parker: Afternoon (OTA)

[whosalicewhite]

Parker wanders the halls in a way that looks aimless. It's not as if her job, as she sees it, requires much thought or attention. Instead, her attention is on the vents, the doors, the hallways, the areas, and the other security. Alpha's so large, that she knows she's only memorized about 10% of it to her satisfaction, but that means she knows the inside of every human-sized (and not quite so human-sized) space.

To distract herself from someone else's memories, she's moved onto a new area. (The Orphan is bad enough, but she has memories of the Father and that -- ew. Birth is disgusting. How the hell could whoever's memory that is feel proud? Just thinking about it makes her not want to eat, and that's about as serious as things get for Parker. Thank Santa Claus that he missed one of the births. Three? Who would go through such a thing three times?)

Today is the first official count of this space, and she believes she's alone.

[adamparrish]

It's very rare that Adam finds Parker rather than the other way around. She usually seems to appear out of nowhere and mid conversation, a specter in a world of solid things. And yet, Parker is still one of the most solid and reliable people he knows in the Complex. She hasn't let him down, not ever. And he really and truly doesn't expect her to as he would with most people.

Given what is normal and the startling moment when he sees her wandering the hallways somewhat aimlessly, it's clear to Adam that something is off. For a change, he falls into step alongside her, seemingly appearing out of nowhere to suddenly be at her side, and watches her in profile for a few moments before speaking.

"Hey." It's his normal greeting and maybe he should say more than that. He searches for words for a moment before speaking again. "I think they got in our heads last night." And the way he says this makes it very clear that he does not think that's okay. But that opens the door to him asking about her in a way that's less open-ended and more pin-pointed toward an actual event. "You okay?"

Closed to Alcide Herveaux & Zatanna Zatara

[satnalahcsauoyekil]

Zatanna hadn't had to tell Alcide why she was in his room in the middle of the night. She hadn't had to say a word, and it didn't look like she was the only one who'd needed to sleep somewhere she didn't necessarily belong, as Zee had seen Katniss in Alcide's roommate's bed when she'd come in. The PDC had said it was nearly three in the morning. She'd slipped in silently and hovered uncertainly beside Alcide's bed before whispering his name. She'd been shaking. She'd been crying, but she doubted he could see that in the dark, which was just as well. She'd just needed to know that he was okay — that there's not a hole in his head reminded the inner voice that she'd been trying to ignore since waking up alone and soaked in sweat.

He didn't ask questions. She didn't offer answers. She'd crawled up on his bed when invited and curled, trembling, beside him. Just knowing that he was there and breathing and warming the other side of the mattress, creating that sag in it behind her with his weight and body heat was enough to lull her back to sleep and she'd only managed a couple more hours before slipping back out of the room without waking any of them the next morning.

It was just a nightmare, that's all. It didn't have anything to do with anything, she promised herself, and she'd gone about her day as such. It was a nightmare because she'd missed him yesterday and known he'd been worried — she hadn't had much of a chance to talk to him about everything yesterday after the mission, just really a passing 'hey, I'm okay,' along with a couple of quick details that wouldn't have gotten her in trouble if overheard.

The fact that she'd dreamed about Green Arrow solidified it. It was harder to see his face than the Green Arrow she'd known, but she also hadn't seen Green Arrow in what felt like forever. He'd always been elusive at best anyway for anyone who hadn't been Artemis. Her subconscious made, therefore, his face darker; harder to see. The dreams were just that. Green Arrow was Justice League. Zatanna had dreamed about being Justice League, too, a million times. The fact that she'd dreamed of him hardly phased her and the fact that she'd dreamed Alcide had been killed when he was clearly alive...well.

That phases her more, but she isn't willing to admit it.

By the time the day is nearly done, she makes her way to the spot behind the Wagon Wheel where they tend to meet up before deciding where to go next to talk. She has a lot to fill him in on. That does not include the dream. She's not going to tell him about that, because it's embarrassing and stupid and it's not even real, so it doesn't matter. It's just her subconscious reminding her that Alcide is important to her and she already knows that; he's her best friend. Of course he's important. Of course she'd been scared that it had been real. Of course she'd felt better when she'd confirmed that it had just been a bad dream and of course she didn't spend her day thinking about it.

Okay that last part is a lie.

But the important thing is that she tells him about the mission with Prim in more detail. The important thing is that she tells him that she has absolute confirmation that her powers are still accessible, she just has to find the trigger for them again — and hopefully it isn't what she thinks it is, because it's not like she can have a mutant following her around day in and out — so that she can go back to using them. Plus, she needs to tell him about the escape trail. ...and start planning an escape, for that matter.

"Psst," she hisses out when she sees his hulking shadow moving toward her. She's tucked herself back and out of the way, not wanting to be seen, but a hand slips out from between two dumpsters and beckons him. Zatanna knows it's him, it just always is. No one else comes back here to hang out near the dumpsters, to her knowledge. At least, she's never seen anyone else.

[rouxgaroux]

When Zee had come to him in the middle of the night, Alcide hadn't even questioned it. If he'd had his wolf senses he would have been able to feel and smell things that he couldn't without them. It was clear that something was upsetting her though. So he just lifted the sheets and reached out to her to invite her to lay with him tonight, and any night she needs it, truthfully. Alcide didn't ask her questions because if and when Zee is ready to talk about it, she'll let him know. He doesn't push or pry. He just holds her because she needs it for whatever reason, and maybe he sometimes needs to hold onto someone too.

By morning she was gone and Alcide had had some really fucked up dreams of his own. Zee was the star. So was Prim, the girl who Zee had been sent on a mission with. Why the hell would he dream about her? Projecting all the worry he'd felt for Zee's being alone with someone he doesn't know onto her? How does he know her face? He's never met Prim. It's obvious this is something else. It's already pissing him off by the time he heads into work, the fact that someone, or something, got inside his head where they shouldn't be.

He stews on it all day long. And all day long, he's itching to find Zee and talk to her about it, see if the Computer got into her head in some way too. Oh what he wouldn't give to destroy a Computer - not just any Computer, but the Computer.

While he'd been looking for Zee so that they could talk, he'd run into Prim. He's glad they had a chance to come face to face, to talk about what they'd both seen and felt in their dreams. Now he's ready to get back to looking for his best friend. She's more than that, really, she's family. She's quite possibly the best friend he's ever had. When she hisses at him, he grins and goes over to her in the darkened corner. First, he wraps her in a big bear hug, holding on as he kisses the top of her head. Then he pulls back and looks her over.

"Over here hidin' in the corner, huh? No wonder I couldn't find you." Normally, he could have tracked her down through scent alone. Not right now though. Someday.

[runsonwater]

Morning: OTA

To say that Barry is unsettled by the dreams he's had about Buffy's life and Natasha's would be an understatement. Buffy's managed to throw open the door on a grief that still feels all too real and fresh, even here in Alpha, that he's tried desperately to close since waking up with those memories from home. And Natasha's.. well, he doesn't even know where to start in describing how her memories had made him feel. No one should've had to go through what she went through, especially as a child. It feels wrong that he's seen that far into her past and her mind, especially since he gets the distinct impression it's not something that she would share freely with anyone, especially him.

In the morning he heads down to the commissary for his usual routine of getting coffee - it's growing on him, other than that whole drug incident - and reporting for the morning debriefing. He's relieved when no one is selected for a mission.

He heads up to his quiet office in IntSec only to find out shortly after that Steve's would-be assassin has been assassinated herself. He's not surprised that Steve has sent for him, though he also thinks this is the perfect opportunity to get Izzy to help him.

Mid-Morning; Closed to Izzy
He hasn't really been to Technical Services much, unless it's to see a friend who has been hospitalized. He gets the vague impression that he used to come here more often for another reason, but why keeps slipping through his mind's fingers. It doesn't take long to get directions to Izzy's office and after walking down a long hallway that seems to isolate itself from the rest of the building, Barry knocks on the door before opening it slowly. He gives Izzy a small wave in greeting, but hangs back for permission before entering completely.

Afternoon; OTA

The good thing about his job is that he's able to travel through Alpha with little supervision. While he's still blocked from most higher clearances, his forensics case manages to get him through most doors where he may not have been allowed without IntSec on his side.

He's at the museum today, looking at the historical pieces on display and asking if there have been any recent robberies. He's still on the hunt for the origin of the watch that was used in Matt's bombing. Now that the only potential source of answers is dead, he's going to have to rely solely on old fashioned detective work. He spends most of the day there interviewing the curators and taking a written inventory of the pieces they do have for his own reference.

When he's done he heads to one of the subsectors with specialty shops and does some more questioning around there, specifically how easy it would be to get a watch on the black market. He gets the distinct feeling that he may have asked too many questions however, when two guys begin following him down the street.

"Great," he mutters under his breath as he ducks into the nearest shop.

Evening; Closed to Dick
He forgoes the Citizen Improvement activity, though he is glad that someone has taken the initiative to have a much needed class on first aid and wound care. He can't help but think a lot of Alpha citizens seem to think that they are suited only to the jobs they were assigned by the computer.

He heads down to HQ to go over the notes he's taken throughout the day. He only has about an hour or so before he has to return to the Wagon Wheel, but he is absolutely sick of his office and doesn't want to be a bother to his roommate. He moves through the door, heading over to the corner to do his usual scan to make sure their hiding place hasn't been compromised when he realizes that he's not the only one there.

"Hey..." he stops, realizing that he doesn't know the person sitting on the couch. Ordinarily he would assume that they were a newly arrived Special, but usually they know about new people right away. And with recent events, now is not the time to be anything but careful. He sets down his case. "Who are you?"

Barry & Izzy

[withstyle]

Memories are a pretty fickle thing. Izzy's had them taken from her before, well...one taken before, but it was an active choice...something that she knew was happening. What happened last night, though, while she slept is completely new. She's never been linked up to someone elses memories, let alone in the very real and visceral way that she got assaulted with Lydia's. And the screwed up thing is that she knows they're Lydia's without a shadow of a doubt. By the angel, things just keep getting more complicated in this place with the computer and all of it. It's strange to know something about the other woman that she has no clue about, and it's not that Izzy is planning to keep the redhead in the dark either.

She just doesn't know when she'll bring it up, or how just yet.

For now, though, compartmentalizing is the answer for the petite shadowhunter. She's actually better at that than most, or at least...she's going to give herself the credit for it at the moment. Instead, Izzy's focusing on work and thinking ahead to what she has to do later this evening for Citizen Improvement. The office Izzy works in off of the morgue is tidy, and Izzy's done everything possible to keep her own work from piling up. She's leaning over an open file at the moment, scribbling quickly just before her head jerks upward at the sound disrupting the silence. "Barry!" A smile spreads across the petite woman's face immediately as she sets the pen down and gestures for him to come in as she pops up out of her chair and around her desk. "Come on in, don't just stand there. You're always welcome in here."

She hasn't forgotten her offer to help him out as needed, obviously, but it's also just nice to have a visitor to break up the silence that things lapse into more often than not. Not many people make their way into the morgue and it's adjacent areas, all that often, after all. The question is whether this is a professional call, or whether it's a friendly one. So, Izzy can't help but let the question spill out of her mouth. "What brings you by?"

[lefey]

Morning.

Lately, it seemed like every day she woke up in this place it came with a vague headache and a lurking feeling that something wasn't right. Mostly she closed her eyes again, took a breath and got out of bed.

Today she woke up almost screaming as the earth rushed up to meet her and... but it was just a dream, wasn't it? She was sweaty and breathless and more confused than she had been her whole time here, trying to piece together why she remembered a girl with strawberry hair, or an impossible city that surely couldn't exist. How could she remember flying when even witches did not fly? Or all the lights and flashes and a call that never went through, some kind of bomb and then stars... so many stars and huge black things in the sky. Ships? How could they be ships? How could anything but a bird be in the sky?

How could she fall and live? Because god, she had fallen, the fall had woken her, the sickening feeling of knowing for sure that this was the end but it wasn't, because she was here. Wasn't she?

Morgana jumped out of bed, half expecting a strange suit metal suit of armour to follow her and almost surprised when she was just in orange, like always.

As she did her best to calm down and pull her hair into something resembling a braid Morgana remembered something. Stark... Tony? Was she Tony in her dreams? Why? How? He was her friend, but she didn't even know what that thing in his chest was nevermind much about what his home life was, if that's what it was. It couldn't be a vision, surely, there was too much sky, too much of everything to pack it even into the sprawling Complex.

Perhaps it was the computer? Could the computer do that, just add things to her memory as it wished? And if so, why? Why this, why now? Were rows of dancing girls, a pretty woman and a trip through the sky something she needed to know?

Morgana bit her lip and forced herself out the door and down to the commissary wishing she could understand this place, ever, even for only a day.

---

Afternoon + Evening

Her brain feels like it's scrambling for some sort of sense, some reason the whole damn day and so she ignored the lunch bell, instead tending to a small batch of plants that needed a little extra attention. Most of the work was really done by bots but Morgana found they didn't always do the job as well as they ought so she lingered, adjusting the soil, gently pruning off dead leaves with her fingers and chatting quietly to them — Buffy did say it was proven to help, which was enough of an excuse for her. The computer wanted a healthy crop, afterall.

By the time she leaves work her stomach growls and she resigns herself to wandering to the commissary, where she stays, curious about whatever "first aid" was, and more importantly, how they treated wounds in this place. It seemed like a handy skill to brush up on lately.

Plus, Izzy would be there and though she hadn't met Clint face to face she liked his willingness to tie Steve up before he hurt himself, yet again.

morning

[withstyle]

Banshee. Woman in white. Mourning spirit. Fairy.

You don't get through training as a shadowhunter not having studied various mythology...even if it's not all strictly applicable. Banshees aren't a sort of downworlder that Izzy has experience with, but she can't say with complete certainty that they don't exist back home. What's more important, though, is that the redhead who she has a few things in common with...the one to give her advice on dealing with 'Friend Computer' is a banshee. Izzy doesn't have a problem with it, in the least. What is confusing is the fact that the other woman doesn't understand how her powers work.

The images have all sort of streamlined into a loop now with one thing leaning into the next... Lydia telling someone that she doesn't know hot it works, mixed with her speaking to a record player, and with the various times she screamed mixed in. Izzy didn't just watch these things, though. It was visceral. She felt the other woman's frustration, resistance, and the struggle with what she was and how to actually use it in a way that could help her friends. And the uncontrollable and overwhelming urge, need to scream at times. Pus, the friend that she lost. When Izzy first wakes up it's startling and even bordering on suffocating....being pressed in on by someone elses' memories having hit her while she slept.

Izzy's really good at putting up a good front, so she doesn't miss any beats; she puts her orange jumpsuit and makes herself look as presentable as she can with what she's currently got to work with (braiding her hair carefully into something she considers at least semi-pretty) and then she's off toward commisary. Still. Lydia's on her mind, and Izzy can't help the sympathy she feels for the other woman. As a Lightwood she was trained by Hodge and others to be sure that she understood not only how to fight, and what she was physically capable of, but how to utilize the runes that nephilim are capable of. Lydia, though, didn't have that and it reminds her of her friend Clary, which only makes her miss home a little more than usual, despite the plans she's made here to try and better the place.....because who knows how long she's stuck here.

The familiar orange level is a welcome sight that can distract her from banshees, friends, and thinking more than she really needs to this morning. "Morgana!" Izzy calls out before speeding up to catch up with the other, taller woman, her smile in place. "Morning...or is it?" The petite woman corrects herself, right brow quirking upward curiously, taking in the general...lip worried between her teeth and going out on a limb after the night that she had.