Daycycle 110 [ October 2 - October 8]

[computerized]

daycycle 110

[Oct 2 - Oct 8]

Early, Early Morning [0400 - 0800]
Lydia Martin will be woken up at 0400 when a squad of Internal Security Gray Ops come to arrest Samantha Groves for treason. Root will be led away at gun point and Lydia will be immediately taken into IntSec for questioning. She will be grilled for the next four hours on Root's activites and her own loyalty. She will not be released until the Early Morning briefing.

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

It is announced that there will be a mandatory ceremony for all Troubleshooters this evening in the Commissary. Not attending is treason.

There is no Mission assigned to any Specials Today.

---

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

At 1200 explosives planted by the Frankenstien Destroyers will detonate in the Bot Processing division. The goal is to destroy as many bots as processing equipment as possible. These explosions will cause significant damage to the division and temporarily lock down part of R&D. Troubleshooters will be called to the scene to help clean up and assist citizens caught in the blast.

---

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

Tonight’s event will be at 1800 in the Commissary and will be hosted by Internal Security. This ceremony is to recognize the hard work and dedication of the Troubleshooters who have gone above and beyond in their service to Alpha Complex. The following specials will be promoted a clearance level for their work: Jillian Holtzmann, promoted to ORANGE for her work in explosives, Lydia Martin, promoted to YELLOW for her work in hygeine, and Matt Murdock, promoted to GREEN for his work in Personal Legal Defensive Practices. A mandatory round of clapping will be held for three minutes for each promotion.

---

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

[a_man_out_of_time]

Steve, Bucky and four other members of the Very Special Forces are riding in the back of an armored truck when the explosions go off. They can’t see it, but they can hear one thunderous roar after another, as the shockwaves from the blasts vibrate the metal walls against their backs. The truck swerves without warning and their bodies are thrown against their three point safety belts — which catch their torsos like a net.

A huge piece of debris is scraping, digging against the ceiling of their truck, filling it with the unbearable screeching of metal against metal, and leaves a deep and terrifying dent in its wake.

But the truck keeps moving.

All of their earpieces activate at once, as new orders are transmitted. R&D’s bot processing division has just been bombed. As the unit closet to the sector and already en route, on arrival, immediately begin search and rescue. Medical teams are being deployed from Technical Services and should arrive shortly.

There’s a flicker of fear in Steve’s expression as he locks eyes with Bucky. He knows that Tony works in bot processing.

But there isn’t time to waste, so the Captain pushes the thought aside and begins to call it. Eight of them were in the vehicle — six in back, two in front. On arrival, they would split into teams of two (“Bucky, with me.”) and pan out in search of survivors. Bot processing had been the target, but Steve assigns each team its own subdivision to search — if at this distance, a piece of debris can hit their vehicle, then the entire R&D sector must be suffering. They hadn’t left Armed Forces as a search and rescue unit, so the only additional gear they had for this mission was two extra AF-issued first aid kits per soldier, and duct tape. Use both generously.

Their boots hit the ground seven minutes later, everyone running behind Steve until they hit the main lobby of R&D. Smoke was coming from at least half the corridors. “Get the gauze masks out of your first aid kits,” he shouts, as he pulls a canteen of water out from his belt and unscrews the top, pouring it onto the gauze as fast as possible. When their masks are secure, he gives the command to fan out to their assigned subdivisions. Steve’s eyes meet Bucky’s and they immediately move as a unit, heading straight towards bot processing. The Cap knows exactly where to go — he’s was here to see Tony just last week.

Steve can hear Clint’s voice before he and Bucky get to the door. In here! Two wounded - burns and bleeding from shrapnel fragments! But those words do nothing to prepare them for what they see. Steve’s eyes follow Clint’s hands to Tony’s chest before he sees Natasha putting a wet cloth over a young man’s face. His skin was severely burned and her hands were red with blood.

Just like Clint’s. Bloody hands pushing against Tony’s bloody chest.

But they were soldiers. Their default reaction to trauma was action, so Steve eyes dart across the room, looking for any type of sheet that would be strong enough to hold a person’s weight. Nothing. Except too metal poles that had fallen out of the ceiling and were now leaning against the far wall.

His hand gravitates to the roll of duct tape in his pocket and Steve eyes narrow before he looks back at Bucky. “We’ll make one out of duct tape.” And they get to work. Retrieving the poles. Using each other to pull and cut the tape into an emergency duct tape field stretcher.

[kholodnyy]

It's always the fucking quiet before the storm. The quiet with a decent night's sleep and breakfast that doesn't taste too bad. Getting to work a few minutes early without having to rush. You know, nice. The kind that doesn't last if you bother to think about it. So Buck is riding around in a truck with his best friend in another lifetime, thinking he might actually get used to this after a while. Certainly better than what the glitches say he endured.

And then -- explosion.

Big explosion, considering how hard the truck is rattled by the impact tremor and aftershocks. And whatever the hell just landed on the roof. The smell of smoke and fire fills the air, and for a moment Buck feels weightless. Timeless. Like the smell of war has been with him forever. Then orders filter in through the communication lines, and he has to brace himself against the side of the vehicle in order to keep from falling out as they race towards R&D.

Steve shares a look with him, fear glinting around the trepidation that Bucky also shares. Not that it'll stop them from going into help. And it doesn't, despite his shaky nerves. He follows instructions like he was born to it, making a mask to reduce the potential for damage to his lungs, makes sure his weapon is locked and loaded, and races into the building just behind Steve, with the rest of his gear.

The hallways are dark and smoke-filled, but he knows better than to lose sight of his CO. With each step taken, the nerves fall away, replaced by instinct as old as war itself. By the time he and Steve reach ground zero, his worried expression is replaced by a sternness that anyone who knew the Commandos would recognize. Sergeant James Barnes, reporting for duty, come hell or high water. He takes in the nightmare scene before them, ordering anyone moving behind him to either search for more survivors or clear a path through the debris to get the wounded out. Paramedics are expected shortly and they'll need every second.

Nor does he bother to make sure that his orders are being carried out. It doesn't matter than everyone's jumpsuit is RED. Time is precious and right now Steve is the only one he knows outranks him. Steve who already has a plan. (Because of course he does.) Bucky carefully moves around the trio on the floor, recognizing only Natasha. He nods at her, offers narrow eyes to Clint (who is this yahoo) and Tony merely gets a brief look-over before he hustles on to help Steve finish up the stretcher.

"I don't think we can wait for medical to get here, Cap. These guys gotta be moved now."

[im_ironman]

The world is moving too quickly, and Tony's head is spinning, but he can't make it stop.

When Natasha starts to help him lay down, Tony almost resists - we have to get out - but the energy for it faded before he could even protest. Once down, though, it's almost as if he goes underwater. It's almost as if the metal sticking out of his chest is pinning him down, almost as if it's the heaviest damn thing in the world, and Tony can barely breathe. Even when Natasha asks him what happened, Tony thinks he answers, but he can barely open his lips.

God, it hurts. It hurts, the pain radiates through him in waves, and it's like the tide is too strong for him to fight. His vision blurs and fades as he tries to fight the way his eyes want to droop close, and if he's holding on it's mainly because Natasha's watery laugh is something that is alarming enough to make him realize he has to stay awake, but it's hard to focus. It's hard to think. It's hard to remember that he shouldn't fall asleep; it's hard to not just succumb to that darkness that is trying to claim him all too quickly.

And then... Clint? His voice sounds like him, asking him to blink, and he does even if it's delayed and for a moment he almost wonders if he's even really there. Is he dreaming? Shit, maybe all of this is a dream, maybe it's all in his head--

But, no. His head lolls to the side, as if to check if he's dreaming, to see if Cisco is still there, but even doing just that hurts and if he doesn't cry out it's only because his throat doesn't seem to work anymore. His body tenses, though, his features distorting from the pain, and even if he can't voice how much it hurts, his vision blurs again.

Is this how it ends? He's going to die in the rubble. He's going to die with a piece of metal buried in his chest, and there's Natasha, and Clint, and Steve, and--... Barnes? Okay, now he's definitely dreaming, but maybe this is just how it needs to end. There's people that he let down (Clint, and even Cisco, considering he couldn't get them out), and friends he never repaired things with (Natasha and Steve), and the one that haunts him for various reasons (Barnes), and well. Leave it to the Computer to have a screwed up sense of humor about it all.

I'm sorry, he wants to tell them, any of them, all of them, but the words get stuck in his throat and feel like they choke him. He doesn't have the energy to talk - he barely has the energy to breathe and force himself to stay awake, but he's drowning. He's sure of it; he's just waiting until he sinks completely into darkness.

[namegenerator]

Relief floods through him when he sees Natasha. That means people know what happened; that means people are coming. Help is coming.

Cisco bites back a whimper when Natasha tells him to lay down because she has no idea how much pain he endured and how much energy it took just to get up in the first place. For all he knows, there's internal bleeding that he's already exacerbated by getting up to put pressure on Tony's wound, but if he moves again, he could make it worse, still. "I can't. I can't, I can't. I don't want to move again, I don't think you understand how hard it was to move the first time to help him, I can't."

All the same, with all the smoke, he knows she's right. How much more damage could he possibly do than he already had by being thrown into the machine behind him and then forcing himself up to help his friend? Cisco isn't ashamed when the cries of agony rip from his throat when he follows her instruction, burned hands slick with Tony's blood sliding on the floor and making it that much harder for him to do so smoothly or gracefully. Every movement feels like being stabbed with a thousand knives. Honestly, he can't remember ever being in this much pain.

Once he's down, his breath is shaky because it hurts to breathe but he knows he still has to. He's conscious and he isn't fighting a battle to stay that way, so he listens to Natasha even though he's pretty sure she's mostly talking to keep Tony awake. "He told me about the suits, yeah...it sounds a lot like Ray's, except—" he pauses to grunt a little, panting for breath when a tiny movement of his head seems to ripple through his entire body like white hot fire. "—except Ray's suit can shrink. I'd like to see it sometime. But Tony already knows that, don't you, man?"

More people are flooding into the area and they all seem to know Tony. Cisco recognizes exactly none of them. His eyes shift away from the ever-growing group and past them, in the direction from which they came. Cisco keeps hoping to see Caitlin. Barry. Felicity. Anyone. They never come.

Finally, he looks back at Natasha. "Hey...we are gonna be okay, Nat. Don't..." he pauses, wincing again at a particularly painful intake of air, "look so worried." At that, he tries to force a smile, but it hurts too much and falls flat. She's the only one who's actually spoken directly to him, plus she's the only one he actually knows besides Tony who is fading terrifyingly fast, and so he focuses on her. "I'm gonna hold you to that thing with the fruit. I hope you know that."

[missromanova]

The way that Clint speaks to her so firmly, giving direct orders in her native tongue and in English, is what helps Natasha pull herself out of her own head. The fact of the matter is, if he never showed, Tony would be dead. She can't possibly move him like this by herself, no matter how much first aid she knows, how good she is in combat, how well of a diplomat or manipulator or spy she's become... Natasha isn't a savior. She still has basic human limits, she doesn't have super strength or any super powers. For her, the impossible isn't an obstacle; it's an actual limit.

But Clint is here and saving someone is a lot easier with four hands instead of two. The moment he gives her an order she's moving with a new sense of determination, because now they have a chance, despite how small it is. She takes a wet cloth and wraps it around her face before grabbing another for Cisco, and she moves over to him with to let Clint keep Tony stable so she can wrap a wet cloth around Cisco's mouth as well. "I know you're going to be okay," she finally responds to him as she eyes him over more closely, taking in the severity of his condition one step at a time. "You have to be. What, you think that I want to deal with new roommate? You know how much I hate new people, maybe think about that next time before you decide to be selfish and get caught up in an explosion, huh?"

Despite her teasing words Natasha's touch is soft, fingertips running over his side over his jumpsuit without pressure but to read his reaction at the slight sensation. She can hear that Rogers and Barnes have arrived, and while her other three companions are making sure Stark is alright Natasha leans down close enough where she can speak to Cisco without having to shout over the commotion.

"I've got you, Cisco, I'm not going to let anything happen to you." She gives him a nod. "I need you to stay perfectly still, alright? And keep your hands up."

Natasha moves, then, getting to her feet fluidly, and she sees Rogers and Barnes making a stretcher for Tony before she moves past them to the exposed pipes that Steve had spotted. "James is right," Natasha says, the name gaffe made in her distraction due to the fact that she still knows Bucky as 'James Buchanan Barnes, Winter Soldier' from his file and old habits die hard. She grabs onto two pipes, one already loose, and she rips the other out of the wall before returning to start a second stretcher beside the first that the boys were working on. "Ramon has third degree burns on the face, torso and extremities, his jumpsuit is fused with his skin on the upper right pectoral."

Her eyes move to watch the way that Steve and Bucky make the stretcher before she grabs the duct tape from Steve, mimicking it herself to start a second. She's a fast learner, equal distribution of support, doubling the layers of tape for durability... it's easy enough. "There's internal damage, I'm assuming that he has at least a couple of fractured ribs, internal bleeding is probable, he can't walk like this." Sometimes the boys may forget that civilians aren't used to walking off severe bodily damage - Natasha admittedly forgets it too. It took her a good minute back in Sokovia to remember that for the majority of the population, walking wasn't solely dependent on whether or not your legs were broken. "There might be spinal damage, I'm not sure yet."

Her hands are steady when she finishes the stretcher and she drags it over to lie parallel to Cisco, a smear of Tony's blood on her cheek from wiping her face before managing to get all of it off of her hands. "Get ready, Ramon, all expenses paid trip." She moves to stand behind his head, leaning down and taking his shoulders as securely and safely as possible. "Hey Barnes, want to be a gentleman and help a lady out over here?" She nods to Cisco once she gets his attention, waiting for him to finish what he's doing before he can come over.

"Medical is probably coming from the Technical Services Section, we start carrying them out of here and get them into fresh air we could meet them halfway and load them onto an actual Med Transport- Anthony." She says Tony's name abruptly and loudly; she's seen this enough times before - been there enough times before - to tell when daze is finally starting to slip into unconsciousness. He's close. "You better stay awake, do not make me come over there, do you hear me? Tell me what happened here."

She knows that he's not going to be able to answer, but it's another input of information for him to try and process to make him think. Even if he's doing it silently, it's something to give his brain simulation to concentrate on and keep his neurons firing. When Bucky comes over to her Natasha rips off her other sleeve because the jumpsuit is already destroyed anyway, and she folds it up to create a makeshift pillow for Cisco on the stretcher.

"Alright, Ramon, it's time to be a badass, this is going to hurt like a bitch but we're going to try to make it go fast, alright?" She meets Bucky's eye and nods at him. "On three. One... two, three." They move Cisco onto the stretcher steadily and as quickly as possible, and Natasha grabs one end of it. "We're going to lift you now, it's not going to hurt as bad as that did. Silver linings."

[pretendtoneedme]

Nat's moving, that's good. She's doing what he said, that's even better - he can see the life come back into her expression, the focus and determination, and as she moves off to take care of Cisco, Clint discounts the young man from his notice. Not out of lack of concern for him, not at all, but because he has full trust in his partner and he knows that if she needs more help, she'll tell him. Tell them, because it's Cap and Barnes, and they're nothing if not effective and productive. Yes, Barnes as well. Clint's literally got his hands full making sure Stark doesn't bleed to death beneath him, and so almost all his focus is on that one task, with a small section of his mind divided off to pay attention to his teammates as they work and anything they say as well as listen for further structural failures or other approaching help. Medical help will get there as fast as they can, but there just isn't time to wait for them, or to worry about clearances and jumpsuits and all that bullshit.

But thankfully Cap trusts his team and knows that if someone's barking orders, there's a reason for it. He doesn't buy into any of that bullshit either, and so Clint has no problems ordering him around if he needs to, especially since Steve will obviously see the value in what he's saying. "Cut off my sleeve, we can make a headrest out of that." And while it's not exactly an uncomfortable fabric, it's not good for wound-packing the way the other strips of sheet he brought will be. There's a knife of some sort around his shoulder, probably Steve, and Clint holds completely stock still as it slices through the fabric around the armseye and down the sleeve. "You've got tape? We're gonna need to tape some of this down over the wound as a pressure bandage to get him out of here. We can't take this out of him without him bleeding to death."

Congratulations, Tony. Not only did you manage to get yourself a gaping chest wound again, you managed to get one worse than Afghanistan and the maybe-Ten-Rings gave you. This is turning into a habit, and they need to break you of it.

Later. "Nat, when you're done, toss the tape over. Barnes, grab these dry strips, pack them over my hands, and we'll get him set up and then get the hell out of here." The strips disappear from over his shoulder, and one real and one metal hand press down two cloth pads over his hands bare seconds later, and Clint pulls them out as gently yet as quickly as he can so he doesn't hurt Tony further, but the difference in pressure is likely going to make him hurt somehow. In this case, though, pain is good; pain means his body hasn't gone into shock and started shutting down, the nervous system too overloaded to function. Gasping means he's awake and hopefully not choking on his own blood. One of the wet strips of cloth is dragged off his other shoulder and banded down over the other cloth like a strap and Clint holds it at an even pressure while Steve rips the tape open and Barnes goes to help Nat. The tape ripping is loud even among the sirens and panic going on outside, the occasional chunk of wall or floor falling down with a crash, the fires starting to burn more out of control as no one's left to put them out. "Come on Tony, you've gotta stay awake. Stay awake and focus on us, got it? Listen to us, listen to our voices. You're not allowed to kick it in now, you owe me something you bastard. We're gonna have to get you on that stretcher and it's going to hurt but we're gonna get you out of here once we do and medical can get that shit out of you and stitch you shut so blink. Focus on what I'm saying and let us know you're still here and don't say anything but blink. One, two - come on, you're too much of a stubborn asshole to give up like this, prove it - one, two, three..."

Once Steve's bound the padding down over the wound as well as can be done in a rush job, they'll transfer him over and get the hell out. They don't have the luxury of taking as much time as they need.

[satnalahcsauoyekil]

He seems to snap out of a train of thought when he hears her and Zatanna offers him an apologetic smile for having interrupted him. Oh, come on with that accent, this is so unfair. Why can't I be like ten years older? she finds herself thinking with an inward pout. The Southern drawl isn't just a Southern drawl, she realizes and while she's not familiar with its regional specificity, she still thinks it sounds nice.

"Good luck with that. Every time I think I've figured it out, some other crazy thing happens and I pretty much have to start all over again," she says. "Zatanna Zatara," she replies back to his introduction. "You can call me Zee, if you want."

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, looking curiously back at him. "How long have you been here?"

[whattingawhat]

Oh, Buffy doesn't blame him. She'd spent a good deal of her first day in a daze as well. She feels the same way about the glitches and she understands that feeling of only being half yourself. She's still adjusting to not being fully 'herself'.

She thought it might be, which is why she told him how long she'd been there.

She smiles slightly at that. "Should I pinch you?"

[preemptiveforgiveness]

Yup. If they wanted to be cynical about things, they could believe the computer was doing it on purpose. Of course, Matt being GREEN is better for all of the specials because much of the real food he gets will end up in HQ for others to use as they see fit. It'll be nice to have the kitchen, something more like a real apartment than a dorm room and Lydia having her own room is a pretty big boon as far as Matt is concerned. If his relationship with Lydia will make someone look down on him, he doesn't much care about their opinion.

He turns to her just before she touches his jaw, hearing her and suspecting who it is even if he's not certain. He wraps his arm around her briefly for the kiss, smiling as she pulls back a little. "You too," he tells her. "You've done a great job and worked hard. I'm glad you're being recognized for it." They can save the depressing conversations for later. Right now, he wants to celebrate Lydia's achievement.

[rouxgaroux]

Her calm also adds a certain amount of levity to an otherwise jarring situation. He instinctively draws in a deep breath through his nose, trying to secretly smell her and see if she smells like wolf, vamp or other, but that sense is gone too. Everything, all the positives, all the things that could alert him to danger back home, has been stripped away from him. He feels raw and not at all like himself.

"Probably not." He says with a slight shake of his head. If she offered to pinch him, that means it probably wouldn't work to shake him out of this if it's a nightmare.

Alcide realizes he's still holding onto her hand, his large one making her small hand disappear in his, long after the expiration date of any decent handshake. Is he still overly warm? Probably not. He thinks he can feel a slight chill, as a matter of fact. Alcide has never been cold so he can't be sure, not really.

He smirks and makes himself let go. "Sorry. I'm not thinkin' straight. So what do you think of this place?"

[fictor]

Ronan was required to go so he decided to take his chances at showing up, saying hi and ducking out of there without anyone noticing (he hopes). He's glad that Adam seems to be doing better, but he thinks he's still got a ways to go. That part, he doesn't mind. He simply wants Adam to try and figure out who he is here rather than give up.

Hey, whatever helps. Ronan doesn't want Adam to get in trouble, but if he's intent on it, he'll be right there with him.

Ronan looks up at Adam, nodding toward the space next to him on the bed. "Got you something," he tells him, waiting until he's sitting next to him to pull out the gas mask. He pulls out his own as well. "No more going to sleep when they tell us to."

He's also got a few other presents. In fact, almost everything he got at the INFRARED market tonight was for Adam, to help him settle in a little. He can't dream things for him here (and he hates that) but with the credits he's making he can buy them.

[dorkify]

Gracie has never been a runner, but she can understand Allison wanting some normality in her life, some routine. They're both pretty lucky then because Gracie likes her job too, even if she doesn't exactly understand what she's supposed to be doing.

She shakes her head at Allison's request. So far, she likes her roommates. "Nope. I'd like the company. Are you running in that race thing?"

Same.

[dorkify]

That'll probably help him here.

"You don't like the social aspect or is it the organized aspect?" She's curious because they're two different things. "It depends on the organized thing. I actually need to be within hearing distance. I'll end up reporting on it. I'm the girl that gives you your morning lead report along with any sort of news that actually happens."

[whattingawhat]

See, that's good. At least she can help that way. The smelling thing, always weird, but in an odd way, Buffy would find it comforting as well. At least it's familiar. She still feels the same way, incomplete and (at times) helpless. She fights against that last feeling in particular. She never wants to feel helpless and her experience has taught her that she never is, even when she feels it.

If this is a nightmare, it's the most in depth one she's ever had. Everything about it has a realistic, gritty feel. She's long decided that this is real, but so are her memories.She had another life before this, a better one.

It's okay. She doesn't mind having him hold her hand. He's gorgeous, for one, and if it comforts him, a little hand holding hasn't hurt anyone as far as she knows. He feels like a normal human temperature.

She shakes her head a little, dismissing his apology then sobers a bit at his question. "It's a bad dream? It contradicts itself. The other specials are nice though. For the most part."

[sanguinescry]

Smiling, Lydia gives a hum of approval. They're both in a better position now, which has both benefits and drawbacks for them each. The benefits outweigh the difficulties by far, though. He can share more food, they can have more privacy. She lifts her eyebrows a little at his comment, because she wonders if he's saying that without realizing that the same can be said for him.

"We've both done a good job and worked hard and I'm glad we're both being recognized for it," she replies with a soft but firm tone, because it's important to her to make sure that he understands: even though he might not think he's doing anything great, Lydia believes that he is. Obviously, so does the Computer or someone with enough pull to have a recommendation for a promotion for him to be taken seriously and applied.

She leans in again, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek before her lips move to whisper in his ear. "There are lots of things we can do to celebrate our successes, but most of the ones I like best can't happen while we're standing around in the Commissary..." Lydia pulls back again and gives him a coy little smirk in case he's feeling like using the vision he's fairly newly acquired. And if not, she's sure he'll hear it in her voice when she adds, "just saying."

[fateless]

The fact that things have been mostly cleaned up is a little disappointing, only because it doesn't give her much information about what happened other than the obvious. This is the first time that Allison is witnessing a big 'event' here, so it kind of surprises her just how quickly everything is mostly gone, but she comes to the same reasoning that Adam has in that sense. If the disaster is cleaned up, they can pretend like it didn't happen, and their 'blissful' experience of worshipping the Computer can continue.

Or so she assumes, considering the welcome speech she got when she first woke up.

At his voice, Allison glances over and nods slightly. "Yeah, apparently." She pauses, but it's only briefly as she glances towards what remains of the explosion. "Is this kind of thing common?"

[fateless]

Even if Lydia had already told Allison about Derek being here, there's still some surprise when she sees him walking up to her. Partly because she didn't expect it but, then again, it's not like things had ended badly between them. Allison couldn't say that she trusted Derek, but Scott had. Isaac and her father had, too. And Allison trusted them, so by default she had ended up trusting Derek at least in some way as well.

Now... Here they are. Whatever her feelings towards Derek Hale could have been in the past, it's at least someone from home, and she returns a similar smile to the one that Derek has on his face.

"Hey. Thanks." She gives a small nod, as if to say that she means it. And, she understands what he means, about the whole finding each other in this place. "Yeah, I'm okay. How...are you? Have you gotten used to this place yet?"

At the last part, she keeps her voice low as she casually inches a little closer to him, as if to keep that part between them and it won't be taken as treason by someone in the crowd just for asking that question.

[fateless]

Yes, in that sense they're definitely lucky.

Allison also feels fortunate on the roommate front. Gracie seems pretty cool, she likes Clint and, while she knows Katniss has probably had it rough considering how she acts, she also likes her. Allison isn't exactly used to roommates, considering she has always been an only child, but she feels like she has lucked out on this front.

"Nah, I'm going to sit it out. How about you?"

[rouxgaroux]

"Zee then." He says with a nod and even if his lips don't smile, his eyes briefly do. Of course he's going to pick the easiest way to say a word, even a name. So far she seems nice enough. She doesn't seem like a threat and that helps him to relax a little. So far, no one but the bots and those people being celebrated tonight seem like a threat. Maybe that's unfair to those being celebrated, but Alcide doesn't know that. It's just the impression he got.

He can't help but breathe deep in through his nose to try to catch her scent, see if she smells human. He hates that that part of him is gone. He doesn't have that extra sensory power right now. He aims to get that back by whatever means possible. The problem with that is that he'll have to do some research to find out what means there are available.

There's a minute here when Alcide thinks of how long he's been here. He hasn't slept yet. It's been a long time since he's slept. "Today." Yes, he's very, very new. He steps closer, lowering his voice a bit. "You got any idea how this place changes people comin' in?"

[rouxgaroux]

He doesn't miss that 'for the most part' bit. And he'll take that to heart. Alcide is always a little cautious in his approach to people. Now, if someone is approaching him, he'll deal with it on a case by case basis. But very much like a wolf, he likes to watch and observe before approaching strangers, get a feel for what and who he's dealing with.

"How do you tell who's Special or not?" It may seem like a stupid question, but Alcide missed whatever orientation he was supposed to have. Something happened in his processing that dumped him right into the mix without any of that. He doesn't even know he's supposedly a clone. "Am I a Special?"

Alcide doesn't like having to ask all these questions. But so far Buffy seems nice enough and he has so many of them that he can't help himself. He can't help himself to the point of spilling the most pertinent question on his mind. "You ever hear of anybody comin' here and... and they ain't like they was before? Like... a part of 'em's missin'."

[rouxgaroux]

Oh. She's like the newspaper. Is he in trouble for skipping out? Is he in trouble for something else? Alcide realizes that he needs to be careful what he says to her. At least, that's his presumption. Sure, she seems nice. But he has no idea how trustworthy she is and what will or won't end up in her reports.

"Little bit of both, I guess." Which is mostly true, even though it's more so the organized and mandatory aspect of it than the social. Alcide has always been better off as a lone wolf for a reason. But he's rarely had a problem with random social gatherings as long as there's no organization or demands about it.

He lifts his chin a bit, studying Gracie. "Sounds like you found your place here. Morning leads? I didn't get here in time to get today's I guess." Maybe if he sees some of the leads, he'll get more of a handle on the kind of person Gracie is.

[adamparrish]

At Ronan's urging, Adam sits down next to him on the bed mostly because he's curious about what Ronan procured in this place. It's hard to get anything here. But then again, he guesses that's what the fights have been for. Ronan wants to buy things. Adam still doesn't like it, but he gets it... mostly.

When he sees the gas masks, he's pleasantly surprised. A part of him doesn't want to take anything bought with fight money on principle, because he still opposes the fights and because Adam just doesn't like taking things other people have bought him as a rule. But this is something practical that can help the both of them in the long run. For some reason he'd thought Ronan might be a bit frivolous in the things he bought. That's what he gets for assuming things.

Adam takes the gas mask and studies it. "This is good. Useful." He looks over to Ronan. "Thanks."

[adamparrish]

"Sadly yeah, more so recently than before." Adam has been here a long time though, he's seen the slow and steady increase in events like these. On one hand, it's nice that people are fighting back against the machine, so to speak. On the other hand, innocent people always get hurt in the backlash. Some people would probably say that that's the price of war. Adam prefers to fight smarter and quieter rather than with blatant brute force.

When she pauses to glance back, so does he. It's amazing really, the swiftness of the cover up, as if people won't know that it happened or the extent of the damage.

He shrugs as they start walking again. "I'm not sure brute force is the way to go when fighting a dictator computer."

[satnalahcsauoyekil]

With a little nod when Alcide decides on Zee, Zatanna smiles. She can't really blame him for choosing the easier nickname; she would in his shoes. He's lucky she hasn't just decided ask on her own to shorten his name to Al and call it done, really.

His response and the question in the heels of it give Zatanna pause. If he's just arrived today and he's RED, then he's a special, right? Isn't that the way it goes? He must be if he's asking about how this place changes people, because she's never heard the other Alphas talk about it.

So, after a moment of consideration, Zatanna decides he's safe or, if not, that she doesn't care if she's arrested. What's the worst that can happen? She shakes her head, frowning. "No idea, I just know that it does. I was starting to think I was the only one, for a while, but then someone else I was talking to was experiencing the exact same thing as me. And someone else still didn't seem phased by my talking about it, so I'm guessing they know the feeling. So, sadly, you're in good company, Al."

Okay, so, she did it anyway. She'd apologize but she isn't actually sorry.

[duelo]

Derek reaches up to scratch his stubble with one hand, careful to avoid the still-bruised part of his face from the Running of the Halls. "Used to it might be a stretch," he says quietly, following her lead and moving casually closer until they've got their arms touching. It's easier to be quiet when he knows for sure she can hear him and vise versa. "Kinda hard to get used to a place when your entire genetic makeup is altered on you and you've got to deal with a species change on top of abrupt relocation to Special Hell," he adds because maybe knowing that he's not a werewolf; not a threat will ease the tension between them. He can't hurt her the way he could as a werewolf because now they're on an even playing ground. Except Allison's always been human, she's got nothing to adjust to in that sense, so really...she has the upper hand here. He's not worth hunting, she's not worth hurting. They both win.

Look, he knows he and Allison have no love lost between them and he feels much the same about Lydia, but if the four of them can stomach working together rather than the girls and Stiles and then Derek and Stiles, maybe they can find a way out of here sooner. Maybe the reason everyone is still here is because almost no one seems to know others from home like they do, from what little he's gathered so far. Maybe no one trusts any other Specials enough to venture into that territory. Stiles is amiable and Derek, Allison, and Lydia don't have to trust each other to work well together and all three of them know that from experience, so they have what Derek perceives to be an advantage.

"Did they fill your head with a bunch of bullshit, too, before releasing you into the wild?" he asks, curious whether she was indoctrinated with the same party line or something different. Or nothing at all. Maybe she was so grateful to be alive that she didn't push back and she hadn't been subjected to repeated viewings of that stupid orientation video at all.