Daycycle 18 [ JAN 26-30]

[computerized]

DAYCYCLE 18

[ JAN 26-30]

MORNING

Matt Farrell will be woken up at 0400 when a squad of Internal Security Gray Ops come to arrest Jason Wilcox for treason.  He is led away at gunpoint and any requests for information will be denied by higher level officers, claiming it’s classified.  Any digging done outside of sanctioned channels will reveal that he was believed to have been stealing medical equipment and supplies.

There is a new briefing officer in place this morning.  She speaks in a sugary sweet voice and smiles often.  Rumor has it she was on the execution squad that finished of the worst traitors in Death Leopard.

Troubleshooter Team: Parker and R. Lynch

Mission:  These fine recruits need practice in small unit tactics.  You will each have a team of three recruits and will lead them as they are pitted against each other in small unit tactical skirmishes.  You’re units are to engage in three to five armed skirmishes against each other.  You will take note of each recruit’s accuracy, obedience and courage under fire.  Fill out these forms indicating each recruit’s performance and turn them in, along with surviving recruits, at the nearest Vulture Squadron barracks.  The Troubleshooter with the most survivors will be awarded a credit reward.

All other Troubleshooters:  You are to report to your Service Firm positions for the day, until called on for Troubleshooter duty.

Specials will remain in their temporary quarters until repairs are completed on their RED quarters.

1202 - S. Rogers - G. Maecenas

1203 - A. Hardison  - Parker

1204 - R.Palmer - B. Allen

1205 - D.Grayson - T. Stark

1206 - M. Farrell

1207 - S.Groves - L. Martin

1208 - P. Carter - A. Patterson

1209 - R. Lynch

Intel: Free Enterprise has begun manufacturing weapons for sale to the highest secret society bidders.  Any information about these weapons should be reported immediately.

AFTERNOON

There is a high-level game of PowerGolf being held this afternoon in the Tech Services sub-sector Delta with many BLUE and VIOLET clearance citizens.  The game will be broadcast across the Complex.  Rumor has it that Free Enterprise will offer any citizen the ability to place bets on the outcome.  Increased security is apparent and all RED Troubleshooters will be pulled to work crowd control and police the game.

EVENING

The Alpha City Library is hosting a special reading of it’s high-clearance level novels this evening in a desperate attempt to attract interest and sponsorship from the Alpha Complex masses.  The book chosen is so notoriously racy that it has been forbidden to most clearance levels for nearly a decade.  There is a small fee to attend, but drinks and food will be provided.

Sleep aid gas will be expelled into the barracks this evening at 2100.

Comments

Daycycle 18: Debriefing

[computerized]

You are welcome to play out missions from any point (beginning, middle, end) but are not required to. You will, however, need to provide information on the debriefing post below once you've determined with the other players involved how the mission played out. You can indicate if the mission is complete (finished), pending investigation (still being discussed occly), or in progress (currently being threaded out.) You are encouraged to approach other characters for assistance with missions whenever possible, as almost every sector has a playable character. They may be able to provide you with valuable information from their roles within Alpha Complex or assistance in tracking down a traitor. You'll soon find out that the more avenues you have through the bureaucratic nightmare that Alpha Complex is, the better.

Reward and punishment will be determined by the outcome of your missions, though they may depend entirely on the current processing power of The Computer at the time and classified information not available to you. In other words, everything is never as it seems, so be prepared for anything.

Please debrief The Computer and your Briefing Officer on your mission using the form below.

<b>Mission Status:</b> Complete (Finished), Pending Investigation (Being discussed oocly) or <a href=THREAD LINK>In Progress</a> (link to your thread, if there is one). <b>Troubleshooters</b> <b>Mission outcome:</b> <b>Alpha Complex Damage:</b> <b>Traitorous Casualties:</b> <b>Citizen Casualties:</b> <b>Intel gained:</b>

for dick grayson!

[avemachina]

[ for her part, root had decrypted the code in the 10 minutes after receiving it. she's decided to make her way to tech sub-sector delta to spend another 30 minutes casing the area, staying out of the view of the few working cameras planted on the perimeter as she takes a sip of a bouncing bubbly beverage left unattended by one of the techs in the northern area of delta.

her phone in hand ready to send the message, root's unaware she's being watched by another member of the society. she pauses near a secured server closet, contemplating the next 14 minutes she could use to potentially save a bunch of citizens from using up their clones. or to move herself to a safe location and see if nameless will live up to their threat.

13 minutes.

decisions, decisions... ]

Re: for dick grayson!

[utilitybelted]

[The warning to avoid the game was enough to spark his suspicions, and once he had a thread to follow it wasn't too difficult to get enough of the details to find out what was going on - even 'nameless' nerds were still nerds, and nerds liked their work to be appreciated. All he had to do was press a few of the right buttons and he managed to get hold of the whole plan.

The tricky part is locating the initiate herself, that's the only information he couldn't manage to get hold of, but he heads down to the tech sub-sector to take a look around and come up with a back up plan in case she's unsuccessful. It's there that he spots the woman who is obviously checking the place out (when you make a habit of casing places, it gets a little easier to spot other people doing the same). He watches her for a while, debating his course of action, before eventually sidling up to her and giving her a friendly grin.]

...Need a hand?

[avemachina]

[ of all the areas in all the sectors in all of alpha complex, this kid walks into hers. his calm demeanor and the fact that root hadn't been affecting her damsel in distress disney eyes makes this less of a coincidence and more of a plant.

she turns to face him, returning her own smirk. ]

Usually I don't require praise, but I'll accept if you're offering.

[utilitybelted]

[Well, that gave him a chuckle, and he nodded slightly to concede a well-made joke, but his expression soon turned serious]

I mean with the encryption [he's keeping his voice low to avoid anybody overhearing, there doesn't seem to be anybody around but you can't be too careful]

For Tony Stark

[utilitybelted]

It felt like this place was deliberately trying to keep him from enjoying the fancy new quarters they'd been assigned for the time being (not that they were really 'fancy', not in comparison to the kind of thing he'd been used to at Wayne Manor), although admittedly a good part of what had kept him away was his own fault, he'd been given plenty of longer shifts over the past few days but he'd padded them out with self-assigned recon missions and maybe just a little bit of vigilante justice whenever he could get away with it.

It all added up to barely having seen the room beyond the few minutes after he tumbled into bed before the sleep gas, the half-asleep stumbling around getting dressed in the morning, or the silent moments while he snuck in well after curfew, having used the invisibility gadget to do a little out-of-hours snooping.

Today is different though, the afternoon held enough excitement and he's taking the evening off, so he heads back to the new quarters much earlier than usual. Hopefully Hardison is there, he wouldn't mind some company.

[notasoldier]

Tony has been doing his share of not sleeping also, barely making it back to the room before curfew thanks to his own project called Iron Man X. Sure, he skipped a couple of versions, but it's not as if he hasn't put in the time in his own time. He's been gathering supplies when and where he can, mostly stealing them from his position in the robotics sector. His work shifts and what excuses he can make to stay in the warehouse isn't getting him very far progress wise, but he can be patient when he has to.

Mostly. Today, though he's working on dissecting a bot brain he's bought from the commissary and he needs a place where he can work interruption free. What better place than in his room where his roommate never seems to be.

He's got tools and bot brains spread out across both beds and he's batting out a small fire on Dick's bed with a pillow when the door opens. He freezes, looking the kid over.

"Can I help you?" And by 'can I help you' he means, get out.

[utilitybelted]

Well. That's not Hardison.

There's a number of thoughts that run through his head when he walks in on Tony, starting with who the fuck are you?, detouring through whatever you're doing it looks interesting and finishing up in what IS he doing?, so for a split second he doesn't know where to start - until he zeroes in on what Tony was doing exactly when he walked in, and then he's at least got his first priority, even if he doesn't have anywhere to go after that.

"...You could help me by not setting fire to my bed?" he offered with a raised eyebrow, nodding towards the merrily crackling little flames that were starting to pick up now that Tony wasn't specifically trying to put them out.

( sciencing gone bad, late evening )

[shrinkage]

[ the problem with using confiscated bomb parts a terrorist had put together in a futuristic dystopia is that you can't actually account for every single disastrous variable.

the other problem with doing all of that is when you try to apply multiple stolen parts that you don't fully understand into some semblance of this really great piece of body armor you use at home. something something hubris. ]

Do... [ ray presses the first of three red buttons, and it lights up. ]

Re... [ with a smirk, he hits the next, which also lights up. ]

[ anyone creeping around the autocar garages in the technical services section might hear his sing-songing from one of the currently decommissioned stations that had started mysteriously malfunctioning about two weeks ago.

ray presses the last little red button atop the mangled hodge-podge of wiring and plastic. ]

Egoooon...

[ at first nothing happens. he breathes a deep sigh of relief and reaches forward to turn it off again, but his finger never reaches the button.

fortunately the explosion is enough to completely consume him. he doesn't even get to shout in surprise. ]

[runsonwater]

[ He's on call for the forensics department when he gets the text with an address, so at first he's not alarmed. He reports for duty, despite the late hour knowing that he has a genuine excuse for being out past curfew and with plans to take advantage of it if he gets the chance.

It's only when he gets closer to the address he'd been sent that a small feeling of unease begins to take over him. Smoke is billowing from the remains of what used to be an autocar garage and he realizes with a sinking feeling that he's been here before.

He's held back as the firefighters finish fighting the flames. The explosion managed to take out the building and left two twisted hunks of autocars behind. When he is finally allowed inside, there's not much left but charred metal and ashes. There is, however, traces of blood on the one remaining wall. He takes the samples and leaves as quickly as possible.

He tries to raise Ray on his PDC, but with no response. He spends all night in the lab processing the blood sample and trying to disprove the terrible theory that has planted itself in his mind. Even after he has his results he can't quite believe it. He searches through video feed after video feed of the surrounding area, knowing that Ray disabled the one inside the garage, until he finally finds what he's looking for.

At approximately 2000, a grainy image of a man of Ray Palmer's build is seen entering the Autocar garage through the back entrance from a camera half a block away. Thirty minutes later the warehouse explodes.

The man never leaves.]

adam parrish | ota

[adamparrish]

A boy in the standard issued red jumpsuit and boots has spent the day trying to process the entirety of what's happened here. He's unassuming and quiet. If one isn't really looking and noticing, he almost blends in with the background, whatever that background might be. Adam Parrish is an expert at going unnoticed. He's gone through his entire day in what looks like a haze for anyone who does notice him. But he hasn't really been in a haze. He's been watching, listening, learning what he can about his surroundings and the people inhabiting them.

He follows instruction easily, trying to fit in and not draw any attention to himself. He looks at everything electrical and mechanical along the way with some curious interest, but only in passing. He's still in shock at his being here, so much so that he barely has any energy for anything that isn't a question.

In the afternoon Adam sits alone at a corner table in the commissary eating a late lunch. He's still watching, still trying to make sense of what all of this is, of why he's here. It has a prison feel to it to him. Not that he's ever been to prison. And this is certainly more high-tech than anything he's ever known. Is this a prison? When the golf(?) game is broadcast in the commissary, he decides perhaps it's not a prison. It's something else.

He considers going to the library that night. But when there's mention of an entry fee, he decides it would be wise to save his money for now and walks the complex to try to get a better grasp of his surroundings. Knowledge is power. He needs to know everything there is to know about where he is. There is a distinct lack of Cabeswater here, leaving a gaping hole inside of him that makes him uncomfortable.

When he sees people who look open to conversation Adam might stand there a moment to try to work up the courage to speak with them. He might accomplish that. He might not. If he does approach, it's with an obvious amount of hesitance and he greets a person with a simple 'Hi, I'm new. Uhm...'. He has no idea where to start after that.

In the end, he heads back to his assigned room with some woman named Peggy Carter who he's yet to meet. Sharing a room with a woman? This is so weird. He might end up sleeping out in the hallway to give her privacy.

[fictor]

It's afternoon by the time Ronan finds Adam in the commissary. He looks vaguely pissed off as he approaches Adam with more speed and force than necessary. He's got a lunch tray as well. He's unzipped the top part of his jumpsuit and has it hanging around his waist. Underneath the jumpsuit, he's still wearing his black wife beater.

"Where the fucking hell have you been?" Because that's an appropriate greeting. Ronan sits down next to Adam, on the same side of the table as him. He looks him over, eyes narrowed. "So what the hell is this place?" Because if anyone has figured it out, he thinks Adam has. He's incredibly relieved to have found Adam, to have someone from home, but more than that: Adam is a piece of Cabeswater and it makes Ronan feel more whole to have Adam close.

[adamparrish]

Adam might look like he's in his own little world, but he's noticing everything around him right now. That means that he sees Ronan first, almost a handful of seconds before Ronan spots him. He's been alone all day. At this point, he's sure he's the only one here. When he spots Ronan, it's the first overt show of emotion he's had since waking up here. His eyes grow wide, his skin prickles with hope and an excess of feeling. He no longer looks like a sleep-walking thing rather than a thing that's alert - living and breathing and very much awake.

From his perspective, Ronan's approach is like a canon ball out of a canon, like the strike of a snake that's been very still, very quiet, and then all of a sudden fangs pierce your skin. It's very Ronan. Adam looks the snake in the eyes and doesn't back down. He only looks away once Ronan is close, sitting next to him and looking him over.

"I thought it was just me." But he's glad, more so than he would admit aloud, that Ronan is here. A familiar face. A friend. Specifically, Ronan.

Yes, if anyone has figured this place out, it would be astute, invisible, Adam. His gaze skirts the room. "We're in the earth... I can feel that much. Not our Earth. There's no Cabeswater that I can feel." The last is said with a wince and a shake of his head. "I don't know if there's ley lines. I'm trying to reach out, but..." Again, he shakes his head. It almost hurts right now to reach out with Cabeswater, as if that vacant place inside of him is somehow hollowed out even more when he does. He feels like only half of himself got here... wherever here is.

"Advanced tech." He adds after a moment to swallow that discomfort down. "From what I've heard, there's a computer in charge."

[shrinkage]

It's easy to spot new Specials. The haze Adam's in is clearly not that of a drugged-up native. There's a latent curiosity that Specials just can't seem to cover upon waking up in a brand new world. Being told you're a clone and that your memories aren't yours? Well, it's not helped by the fact that you get to experience some major culture shock in this place.

The Specials-haters aren't fun, either.

"Hi, I'm Ray." His large frame plops at the table Adam's procured for himself, and Ray flashes the newcomer a warm smile. "Sometimes the natives get brave when Specials go solo. You're new, but you'll catch on quick."

His head nods to the side, at the not-so-subtle collective glare coming from a few tables down. He also seems to have no trouble shoveling the soylent that's supposed to be breakfast into his mouth. The quicker the better...

[adamparrish]

Adam has yet to try his food when the man approaches and sits at his table. The explanation for the heated looks from another table is welcome. Not that Adam Parrish is used to being liked or popular, but usually there's a reason going into whatever someone feels about him. He's had to wonder if, even here, in these new clothes, they could tell that he's from the wrong side of town.

"They'd probably hate us less if we weren't called 'specials'." It makes it seem like they're better in some way, right? Which, they're not... right? "Like we're being set up for failure in the interpersonal relations department."

He makes himself look away from the other table, still wondering why the animosity is there in the first place. It's not like he had a choice in being here, in being (supposedly) cloned. Adam still isn't sure what he believes in what he was told and what he doesn't believe.

His fingers, dirt under the nails as always, curl around the handle of his spoon. "I'm Adam." His gaze gradually lifts to meet Ray's eyes, briefly, before he looks back to whatever this food is in front of him. "I don't really understand why we're here."

[geekage]

Hardison beats him to the punch, approaching him early in the morning at the briefing. He's gotten good at spotting the new specials, not that it's that difficult. The reds coming from the INFRARED barracks all look comfortable and complacent in their outfits, the specials usually don't. That and most of the natives have the same terrible hair cuts.

He waits until the briefing is over before making his way to the newbie. "Hey, you're new, huh? Let me guess, you just woke up in this twilight zone yesterday?" He doesn't give him time to respond. "Welcome to the opposite of paradise."

[adamparrish]

Adam isn't all that used to being noticed. But, he acknowledges, that here he must step out like a sore thumb compared to most. It doesn't look like very many other people have that wide-eyed, deer caught in headlights look that Adam is certain he's sporting at the moment. Adam's hair is a mess too, just long enough to stick out every which way. It isn't often he gets time or makes time for a haircut, at least not back in Henrietta.

The man who approaches him has a very relaxed, with an air of 'cool' about him, which makes Adam feel just a little bit awkward. He's that poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks that people like this guy usually don't talk to or even notice. He's the kind of guy that Adam wishes he could be but knows he never will be.

Such an apt description: 'opposite of paradise', maybe a bit foreboding. It makes Adam smirk and look down to the floor. "I keep waiting to wake up." He says, which is ironic since he keeps waiting to wake up at home too. Wake up, Adam. Wake up. "I'm Adam."

Morning | Troubleshooter Teams

[fictor]

Ronan has no idea what's going on. He'd scarcely arrived and found out he had been assigned a job with recruits. He's read through the job description and understands it hypothetically, but that's where his understanding ends. He's got little idea of what this place is and has only explored briefly. They've got him wearing some damn red jumpsuit (who the fuck wears red or jumpsuits? Gay ass idiots, that's who) but underneath the jumpsuit he's got his own black wife beater.

He can be found in the appropriate location, waiting for his recruits. He probably looks hella pissed off because he is. He's pissed off because he's here. He's pissed off because he's confused and he's pissed off because regardless of how many times he clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth Chainsaw (the raven) never shows up. He's also pissed off because he's terrified. Where the hell is Adam, Gansey or Noah? He'd even take Blue right now. Anyone from home would be welcome and he's not even allowed to go searching for them because he has to train some damn piss ant recruits. Whatever the hell that even means. Ronan isn't generally good at going along with authority, but in this case he doesn't know enough to weigh the consequences against the benefits. For all he knows, if he refuses to be a babysitter the guards with the weapons could kill him. He'd like to not die. That'd be awesome. Thanks.

Re: Morning | Troubleshooter Teams

[whosalicewhite]

More people. Parker doesn't want more people and now she has three recruits to command? Who thought that was a good idea?

Unbeknownst to either of them, they share the issues with authority, the outfits, and the whole not wanting to die thing.

There will be the oddest, almost whoosh noise and Parker's arrived. She wasn't there a moment before, and now she is. Having been assigned missions before, she knows a little more of the lay of the land and has come prepared.

"New person," do names matter? She still calls Bucky, Chucky. All she wants is his attention, and when she has it, she holds up a piece of paper. It's tilted away from the cameras, it makes Parker's feelings very clear.

Laser tag?

[fictor]

Okay. She managed to sneak up on Ronan, which isn't that hard to do. He's not a spy or a super human. He's (mostly) an eighteen year man-child. Ronan isn't much of a commander either. He would be more likely to turn them loose, tell them not to get themselves killed while he goes off and does something he likes better, like listen to music or destroy something or dream up a whole new world. Except, that only one of those things are available to him and he's not comfortable enough here to start destroying anything.

He gives her a sharp, angry look when she appears (really anger is the only emotion he's remotely comfortable with). He's tense and waiting for something to attack him. It probably doesn't take a genius to see that.

"Ronan," he barks at her, softening enough to get a good look at her paper. When he reads the words, a grin slices across his face. It's crooked and leering, something scary rather than something pleasant. "Fuck yes."

( open )

[avemachina]

POWER-GOLF
Despite being here on duty, Root seems to be enjoying the game. The chance to observe the BLUEs and VIOLETs in a more social experience is worth the uneventful patrol. It's easy enough for Root to place inordinate small bets against the BLUE who's expected to come in second using various nonexistent accounts. Once the BLUE does make second place, her own account with FE will see a nice little windfall to the tune of another 3000 credits. Hopefully the guy comes through.

Root sidles up to and nudges another RED, a confused look on her face as she watches the game for a moment.

"Does this resemble any version of golf you know?"

EVENING
She's the cat that ate the canary. Root attends the Library reading (scandalous!) before taking herself for a stroll around the Complex. She sticks to the RED clearance areas, following a relatively boring path of regular daily duties. The only anomaly is when she disappears near the Medical Sector for awhile.

An hour after she disappears, Root emerges through the main entrance with a bounce in her step.

CLOSED TO L MARTIN - ROOM 1207
Despite how ugly those curtains are, the ORANGE-clearance rooms at least mean they don't have to deal with the high school lunch cafeteria aspect of this place. After a stop at the Commissary to get supplies, Root heads back to 1207 with plans to cook something at least slightly more palatable than the slop she's been eating for not even a week, now.

She exhales a chuckle once finished, feigning surprise at the fact that she's made way too much for just one person. Root turns to try to gain Lydia's attention.

"Wanna help me get rid of the evidence? For all I know the Computer'll sanction me for wasting this crap." She smiles good-naturedly then, shrugging. "Of course, you could do its work for it and get a room all to yourself if you turn me in."

lydia | root

[sanguinescry]

It isn't lost on Lydia, not by a long shot, that her new roommate is cooking and Lydia's stomach is already rumbling with jealousy. Lydia has really only connected with Barry and Ray in this place so far — she and Barry after having been through a traumatic existence together and Ray through an inexplicable connection that reminds her an awful lot of Stiles — and she's learned that maybe that's better. People are constantly being carted away for treason and she's been through enough. She wants nothing to do with anyone connected with that. So when she'd been moved into the ORANGE room — she still feels a little bit responsible for the fires even though all she'd done was complete her mission assignment successfully — and had been reassigned to live with this woman rather than with Dick, she'd mostly just kept to herself with simple greetings and good nights in passing.

Lydia looks up, surprised, when the woman whose name she can't remember if she learned and forgot or just never actually asked offers to share. "Really...?" she asks hopefully, a bright smile lighting up her face. The shit they've been feeding her in this place so far is, at best, tasteless slop. Lydia misses flavor. "No, oh my God, no, I want some. I won't tell anybody," she insists quickly, getting to her feet.

[avemachina]

"I'd make that decision after you taste it."

She chuckles again, moving to the fold-down table. What she puts down onto it ... well. It resembles pizza. Whether it tastes like anything more than cardboard remains to be seen. It's closer to a gelatinous crust with fake ketchup and soy cheese atop it, but hey. You work with what you have, right?

"I'm just hoping it makes settling into this place a little easier." Sure, awful near-pizza doesn't mean Lydia is loyal to Root, but the bond of Specials across the board is that they're out of place here. It's always a good place to start when interrogating people, even casually.

Power Golf

[fictor]

Ronan still thinks this place is bullshit. Of course, he's still got little idea of what the hell is going on here. That's part of the reason he's going along with all of this. Besides, crowd control seems to be a good way to get the lay of the land and the people within it.

When the woman nudges him a bit and asks her question, he gives her a death glare coupled with a 'have you lost your damn mind' look. "Do I look like I play golf of any damn sort?"

With his shaved head and the hooks of some sort of tattoo peeking up from the collar of his uniform the answer is probably no, but then Ronan's experience with golf has more to do with the kids he goes to school with and their pastel colored shirts and tasselled loafers. In other words, he's got no idea what a normal golf game should look like.

[avemachina]

"Oh, you're adorable." Root laughs, happy to finally meet someone in this place who doesn't seem interested in waiting to figure out his place here; glazed over and ready to bow at the feet of an inferior, broken machine.

"Maybe you use golf clubs for other more aggressive objectives." Sure her attention is split between her chipper new friend and the game, but it doesn't take much for her to form an opinion. "But then again you don't look like a traditional security guard, either."