Futuristic Watchful Eye IC

[JustAlexandra]

The year is 2254 in new york, and you are living your life. Some of you are poor, living in the slums, fighting for your everyday needs. Some of you just scrape by, having little but enough to survive. Some of you live life to the fullest, without worry for money, food, or shelter. No matter where you begin, you all live under the same sky, in the same nation, in the same state.
---------
It’s 7am, on June 17th.
The weather is partly cloudy with a chance of showers in the afternoon.
There is a festival today. It’s in appreciation of those who have done community work so far this year.
It’s bullshit.

If you watch the morning news, you'll find news anchors praising those high in the government, preaching about all the good they've done.
Brainwashing?
No, they are simply misled.
.... Are they?

Attendance is mandatory, they say.
Violators will be prosecuted, they say.
But how will they know?
Would you like to find out?
---------

Where are you?

No matter where you are, when you arise, you will find a letter - in your mailbox? Next to your bed - if you have one? Sitting on your porch?

Nonetheless, all the letters say the same -

Meet at Bermuda square today, June 17th, at 8:45pm. If you choose not to come, there will be consequences. Do not disappoint.

- Eyes

The Android - you have a special symbol in your letter, one you recognize and turns the cogs in your head, it says - keep this a secret.

So, what will you do?​

 

[horrorshow]

Time had been creeping by terribly slow for Ethan Wyatt, and it was now 0700. Other people might have been just starting their day at that hour, but in a home with two small children, the day would already be in full swing. On Saturday mornings in particular, the children would have already accomplished a great number of disruptive plans and activities by this time, and Ethan would have already gone behind them here and there putting the house back in order. So far they'd only asked Where's mama? About thirteen times, never fully accepting Ethan's answer: the grocery store! Because little Sabine Jolee Wyatt knew her mother was up to something. You see, to the Wyatt household it was not just Saturday, June seventeenth, the day of a festival and a day of relatively nice weather. It was June seventeenth, the day before June eighteenth, Sabine's seventh birthday. Ethan's wife always did some light shopping on Saturday mornings, but of course the children predicted today was different. In truth, she was gone to pick up a cake she'd ordered and paid for a week before, for their daughter's birthday party.

Ethan had walked his wife out of the house with a warm smile and pleasant farewells, kissing her cheek before she left. He had even told her how excited he was to spend the morning with the kids- a touch she seemed to especially appreciate. One of Ethan's most endearing qualities, after all, was the skill he possessed regarding his duties as a father. Every week, without fail, he spent the several morning hours with them in delight and serenity.

Except for when he didn't, except for in those brief soul devouring moments when he would remember he was a man with secrets and an ever-present secret that kept him in a chokehold. The sounds of the kids playing would fade away and he'd find himself staring at nothing and lost in his thoughts for periods of time. Then, he would remember he was too busy being a father to be worried, and he would collect himself.

Today was worse than any of the other days, the typical concerns of a contact gone sour or that his phone might ring and it be something other than a social call were far from his mind, and at the forefront was a piece of paper folded up in the pocket of his pants. A secret he'd been keeping since he woke up. A secret he was keeping as he calmly escorted his wife to the door, as he prepared breakfast for his children and brushed the hair on their little heads, and as he now sat sorting mindlessly through the rest of the mail he'd collected that early morning when he'd found the letter.

In another room, kids were laughing, in the kitchen there was a weight of fear silencing Ethan and his thoughts while he sat at his table, a cup of perfectly brewed coffee gone completely cold as he couldn't even force himself to drink.

What was the time again, he wondered? Right, 0700... What time did the goddamned letter say? 8:45 pm, he remembered. He refused to take it out of his pocket, but it was burning a hole through his skull all the same. But what could it have to do with? The truth is that Ethan believed his secrets to be catching up to him, but-- why like this? This isn't how he had expected it to go when he got caught.

Naturally he wanted to let the fear keep him from going but... he could hear the children again. These people probably know I have kids. God. What do they know? He couldn't ignore the demands; of course he had to be there. Curiosity alone would've forced his hand but what was at risk here was even worse. His children, his wife... Were they even at risk? Was he imagining or dreaming this? His wife would be back any minute, and he would have to put on another brave face...

It was only 7am, and it had thus far been the longest day of Ethan Wyatt's life.

 

[ElizaVioly]

That digital and seemingly lifeless voice sang out its instructions, loud and clear:

”7 am. Time to wake up miss DuBay.”

Mirage yawned, yet lay still in her bed, her eyes remaining closed. ”Time to wake up miss DuBay.” Sometimes, she did that... disobeyed her captor (because that was what she liked to call her, at least in her mind). She wasn’t quite sure as to why, but it was just something about being demanded to do something (especially by a female robotic voice) that bugged her deep into her very core. ”Time to wake up miss DuBay.” Mirage sighed where she lay, and rather unwillingly opened her eyes. Teal colored irises gazed at the silvery intercom on the blue wall, from which the voice resonated. ”Time to wake up miss DuBay.” Annoyed, she put her index finger on the receiver and replied:

”It’s alright Misty I’m up!”

She yawned yet again, feeling glad that the android’s voice had died out. Misty... it had been her father’s name for the creature. Misty was one of the newest models, and one of the rarest in retail. Mirage didn’t care for it, her steel appearance was as hard as her steel persona. Rigid and cold she was. The word efficiancy, should literally have been written across her forehead. In fact, Mirage had considered the very act on several occasions in her thoughts. She much prefer the older models, or anyone else except Misty. At least they had personalities. Nowadays it was all the rage to have ”cleaner” models. Stripped of all emotions... And naturally Mirage had to pretend she agreed. It didn’t matter how wealthy you were, no matter what status you had. ”Free will”, was a luxery no one could afford.

She rose from her bed and walked slowly to stand in front of the window, twisting a firey red strand of her hair with her fingers while doing so. Sky scrapers towered as far as the eye could see, accompaning them was the endless sky. Which today was an all somber grey. She opened the window and looked down, watching the blurry outlines of people walking on the streets below. They lived on the highest floor, in one of the nicests apartments in Manhattan, she and her parents.
Mirage turned around and took a deep breath, leaving the window open behind her. Today was the day of the festival. 17th of June.

She’d been dreading it for weeks, she just hated to be reminded of the pretence of it all. She looked around her room. From the blue walls, to the wooden bed (a luxury wood is, her dad used to say) and the rest of the metalic furniture... this was her home. Her real home, where she could be just herself. She glanced at some of her artwork that graced the walls. Feeling a sense of calm, at viewing the nature scenary in them.

While her pupils darted from one to the other, she noticed something in the corner of her eye. Something out of place, something that shouldn’t be there. Her eyes focused on it. The fireplace stood on the left side of the room, just as usual. And there in front of the dying embers of the harth lay an envelope. A paper envelope, white and simple. With her name printed on it. Mirage remained where she was, simply staring at it. Her head went from left to right, even up and down. She was alone in her room, she’d been alone all night. Her parents weren’t home, none of them had come home yesterday evening. They had both been so equally busy they’d slept at their offices. It wasn’t odd, they did so often. She assume she’d meet up with them during the festival. But, she had locked her room. No one but her and Misty were home. How on earth?

Mirage took another deep breath, with much trepidation she slowly walked over to the fireplace. Her nightgown which was light blue, was being dragged across the floor while doing so. She bent down retrieving the envelope. She then rose again. Holding it in her hands, she looked down at it with a somewhat curious gaze.

In a swift movement, pastel colored nails opened the envelope to reveal a simple letter. Her eyes went quickly from left to right, reading it. Her eyes widened in shock, as her trembling hands let go of the letter. It fell in a slowmotion matter to the floor, she watched it cradle down to it.

What was she to do?

 

[Alvaris]

Jokes and his family didn’t go hand-in-hand, much like how laughter never reached his ears as a child. Life was like that and it was his normal. When he’d pass families on the streets talking and teasing, he never understood what made them different. Even after these years, not much changed. His father, the stoic and statuesque man, hardly had a wrinkle creasing his face. To call him ageless wouldn’t have been inaccurate. His mother though, time was unkind to her. She grayed just over thirty, her black locks turned silver the moment her brown eyes lost their sheen. After all these years. After all the technology society developed. Still, life ended, and those on the outside watched, powerless to do anything else.

Cal rested his arm on the window that overlooked the city. Cars buzzed back and forth, the lights bright and the buildings dark. Many had yet to rise from their slumber. From behind, he could hear the bed creaking before the bathroom door opened and closed. He frowned, the note resting on his end table. At first, he thought it was hers. He considered it may be a joke. A foolish thought. After months of this routine, and years of friendship he learned she was many things, but never one to joke. He would have detested it regardless. He may have kicked her out at the mere suggestion of deviating from their norm.

What could be so pressing on a day like this? Certainly, whoever they were knew the significance of today and the role Rouge Corporation played. Instead of their regularly scheduled programs, the company would be spitting out the government's praise and recounting other commendable stories that took months to gather. The festival continued to solidify Rouge Corporation’s position. However, if this was a ploy for stardom, he would surely see them arrested. Cal had no time for pathetic attempts at fame nor did he desire to entertain others on his time. Securing a spot in this company required work, not poorly written threats.

At the sound of knuckles on his door, he turned in time to see his father enter his room. Not even his own apartment could spare him from his father’s impromptu visits.

“I wish you would stop bringing her here,” his father said while shaking his head. Cal nearly forgot about his father’s buzz cut, which was his unflattering attempt at hiding his receding hairline. Instead, it made his rounding face look decidedly plump. “You need to focus on the future.” He’d cleverly left out the words “of the company.” Publicity, though the bane of everyone’s existence, was far too important to neglect. Alistair had it in his mind that people cared who brought who home. However, that was merely a partial truth. As long as someone of Cal’s standing brought home another of equal standing, it didn’t matter. The scandal came from those below Cal, not that he ever brought women like that home – at least not that anyone would ever discover.

“You implored me to reach of my means,” Cal said walking to his bed. “I have done that and still you are not pleased.” He opened the end table drawer and slid the note inside. He had yet to decide his next steps regarding the lovely letter, but his father need not be involved. When he looked up, he saw his father’s jaw lock.

That look meant many things, but most of all it hinged on the fate of Rouge Corporation. Cal had heard it all, from his father’s gratefulness to have an heir like Cal, to his regret at putting him in charge. Occasionally, even his brother’s name would cross his father’s lips, and yet, Cal kept his position with confidence. Though his life choices may disappoint his father, he’d never failed him at work. All of Alistair’s threats were aimed at the inability to control Cal’s free time, none were related to his work ethic.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a busy scheduled to keep,” Cal said motioning toward his bedroom door. Another item to add would be to replace the robots that allowed his father to galivant where he pleased inside Cal’s home.

Alistair’s jaw loosened. “I expect you on time,” he said, his eyes on Cal. “Let’s not repeat the previous event.” He turned and walked out, slamming the door in his wake. Leaving again without saying anything of substance.

Cal chuckled. By “repeat” he meant bringing one woman to the event and leaving with another. A harmless act. His date left early, she’d eaten something sour, and the “other woman” was an employee’s daughter who somehow managed to get tipsy despite being underage. Had his father taken a moment to ask, Cal would have set the record straight. Yet, part of him enjoyed watching him fume.

“Has he left?” Nadine asked sliding the bathroom door open a crack.

“Finally,” Cal said sliding his hands into his suit pant pockets before looking at her. The slim silver dress adorned her figure as she stepped into the room. Her curly black hair brought out the hazel in her eyes and her darker skin looked especially luminous in the morning light.

He had known Nadine for years. The two met in high school, she was a grade below him, but she’d always been kind. He repaid her kindness by mocking her untamed curls, a feature he’d come to find alluring. It wasn’t until a few years after high school that they became reacquainted. He managed to woo her with an apology so grand she couldn’t decline. In truth, Cal was taken by her appearance and wit that when she demanded one hundred apologies, he was happy to oblige.

“I have plans tonight,” Cal said looking at his watch. 8:45 pm. Bermuda square. Not exactly the plans he enjoyed. Reaching down, he patted his side, hitting the weapon strapped to him. If he went, he wouldn’t go without it.

 

[apolla]

ALEXANDRA

Location: her home

Mood: annoyed

Tags: no one yet

It had taken some time for Alex to find the envelope upon waking up that morning. Although she was normally the first one awake between her and her brother, that did not mean she was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed upon doing so. She laid there for a good thirty minutes or so, just staring at the wall before she finally managed to drag herself out of bed to go take a shower. Even that didn't wake her up completely, so she trudged back to her room and got dressed, pulling on a simple pair of jeans and a tank top. After running her fingers through her naturally straight hair, she plopped back on her bed and reached for her pack of cigarettes.

It was then that she saw it. White and plain, with her name written on the front. She shot a look towards her door immediately, thinking she might find Dimitri there. Definitely the less serious of the two, she could see him doing something moronic like this. After all, they lived alone-- who else had access to her room, of all places? Narrowing her eyes when she saw her door was still shut and locked, she looked back at the envelope. It was thin, but still, she didn't trust it. Just like she didn't trust anyone in this city, except for Dimitri. "Yesli segodnya den' moyey smerti, pust' budet tak." [If today is the day I die, so be it.]

She still grabbed her smokes first, tapping one out of the pack and grabbing the lighter that had sat beside it. Placing the filter between her lips, she lit the other end and inhaled the smoke, snatching the envelope from her table. Leaning back in her bed, she brought her legs up as she leaned against the wall, popping the envelope open with her nail. Pulling the paper from it, she checked the inside of it before tossing the envelope aside, unfolding the letter to read it. At first, she just scoffed, but she reread it a few times and felt the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.

"Dimitri!" Without warning, she shot off of the bed, unlocking her door and throwing it open. The place she shared with her brother was not big, so it took her no time at all to reach his door and start banging on it. "Dimitri, for the love of god, wake up!" She shouted through the door, pausing long enough to press her ear to it, listening in. She heard nothing, and knew he was either sleeping soundly or ignoring her. With a groan, she returned to her room but was back at his door, picking the lock with the bobby pin she'd grabbed. In hardly any time at all, the door swung open and she stepped inside.

"Really?" She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw not one but two females in his bed, who had startled awake at the sound of the door opening. They scrambled to cover themselves, but Alex had seen it all before. Rolling her eyes, she moved forward and smacked Dimitri's foot. "Get up, you big lug. I need to ask you a question."

Spoiler: Mobile

It had taken some time for Alex to find the envelope upon waking up that morning. Although she was normally the first one awake between her and her brother, that did not mean she was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed upon doing so. She laid there for a good thirty minutes or so, just staring at the wall before she finally managed to drag herself out of bed to go take a shower. Even that didn't wake her up completely, so she trudged back to her room and got dressed, pulling on a simple pair of jeans and a tank top. After running her fingers through her naturally straight hair, she plopped back on her bed and reached for her pack of cigarettes.

It was then that she saw it. White and plain, with her name written on the front. She shot a look towards her door immediately, thinking she might find Dimitri there. Definitely the less serious of the two, she could see him doing something moronic like this. After all, they lived alone-- who else had access to her room, of all places? Narrowing her eyes when she saw her door was still shut and locked, she looked back at the envelope. It was thin, but still, she didn't trust it. Just like she didn't trust anyone in this city, except for Dimitri. "Yesli segodnya den' moyey smerti, pust' budet tak." [If today is the day I die, so be it.]

She still grabbed her smokes first, tapping one out of the pack and grabbing the lighter that had sat beside it. Placing the filter between her lips, she lit the other end and inhaled the smoke, snatching the envelope from her table. Leaning back in her bed, she brought her legs up as she leaned against the wall, popping the envelope open with her nail. Pulling the paper from it, she checked the inside of it before tossing the envelope aside, unfolding the letter to read it. At first, she just scoffed, but she reread it a few times and felt the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.

"Dimitri!" Without warning, she shot off of the bed, unlocking her door and throwing it open. The place she shared with her brother was not big, so it took her no time at all to reach his door and start banging on it. "Dimitri, for the love of god, wake up!" She shouted through the door, pausing long enough to press her ear to it, listening in. She heard nothing, and knew he was either sleeping soundly or ignoring her. With a groan, she returned to her room but was back at his door, picking the lock with the bobby pin she'd grabbed. In hardly any time at all, the door swung open and she stepped inside.

"Really?" She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw not one but two females in his bed, who had startled awake at the sound of the door opening. They scrambled to cover themselves, but Alex had seen it all before. Rolling her eyes, she moved forward and smacked Dimitri's foot. "Get up, you big lug. I need to ask you a question."

 

[apolla]

DIMITRI

Location: his bed

Mood: annoyed

Tags: no one yet

By the time Dimitri got home the night before, his two overnight guests in tow, Alexandra was already in bed. Or at least, that's what he guessed considering her door was shut and likely locked. He didn't try to open it, because he knew his sister, and he was likely to get a knife thrown at his face if he interrupted whatever she was doing. He was distracted anyway with his own friends, who he'd taken to his room and they'd had a good time. Could they really be considered friends, though, if he hadn't known them until that night? Well sure, why not.

Alexandra was constantly getting on him about who he brought back to their shared home, but he was an adult damn it. Older than her as well, so shouldn't he be the bossy one? The one in charge? Something? Alex acted like she was all of that and more, but it was rare that Dimitri listened. If he wanted to have friends over, he was going to. She could do the same; he didn't care. But she didn't. Maybe that was her problem. He'd smirked at the thought, but quickly grown distracted yet again as one of the girls pulled his door shut. "Make sure you lock it." He'd told her, as the other one tugged him down onto the bed.

Once he'd fallen asleep, he didn't budge until he felt something smack his foot. "Ah! What the fuck, Alex?" He snapped as he shot up in bed, his eyes landing on her at the foot of his bed. "A question? You woke me up to ask me a question?" He felt his anger rising, especially as she shot a look at each of the girls, telling them to get lost before she made sure they couldn't. The naked girls jumped up from the bed, grabbing their clothes before leaving the room. "Jesus fuck, Alex, what time is it?" Rubbing his eyes, he hunched forward, stifling a yawn.

"Time enough for you to be getting up. Did you get one of these?" She thrust a piece of paper at him and it took him a few seconds for his eyes to adjust enough to actually see it was a letter.

"What the hell is this?"

"Read it."

"I did, Alex, jesus. No? Who the hell sent you this?"

She took the letter back from him, and he noticed a defeated look on her face that she quickly wiped away. "No idea."

Unable to stop the yawn this time, he stretched and looked around. He was just about to make a comment on how she drove his company away when he spotted an envelope with his name on it, something he knew hadn't been there before. "Alex." He muttered, leaning over to reach for it. Tearing it open, he quickly grabbed the paper from inside and opened it to read. "What the fuck." He sat there for a moment, then stood to get dressed. "Come on. We're gonna find out who else got these and where they came from." He watched as Alex left the room, quickly pulling on clothes so they could get going.

Spoiler: Mobile

By the time Dimitri got home the night before, his two overnight guests in tow, Alexandra was already in bed. Or at least, that's what he guessed considering her door was shut and likely locked. He didn't try to open it, because he knew his sister, and he was likely to get a knife thrown at his face if he interrupted whatever she was doing. He was distracted anyway with his own friends, who he'd taken to his room and they'd had a good time. Could they really be considered friends, though, if he hadn't known them until that night? Well sure, why not.

Alexandra was constantly getting on him about who he brought back to their shared home, but he was an adult damn it. Older than her as well, so shouldn't he be the bossy one? The one in charge? Something? Alex acted like she was all of that and more, but it was rare that Dimitri listened. If he wanted to have friends over, he was going to. She could do the same; he didn't care. But she didn't. Maybe that was her problem. He'd smirked at the thought, but quickly grown distracted yet again as one of the girls pulled his door shut. "Make sure you lock it." He'd told her, as the other one tugged him down onto the bed.

Once he'd fallen asleep, he didn't budge until he felt something smack his foot. "Ah! What the fuck, Alex?" He snapped as he shot up in bed, his eyes landing on her at the foot of his bed. "A question? You woke me up to ask me a question?" He felt his anger rising, especially as she shot a look at each of the girls, telling them to get lost before she made sure they couldn't. The naked girls jumped up from the bed, grabbing their clothes before leaving the room. "Jesus fuck, Alex, what time is it?" Rubbing his eyes, he hunched forward, stifling a yawn.

"Time enough for you to be getting up. Did you get one of these?" She thrust a piece of paper at him and it took him a few seconds for his eyes to adjust enough to actually see it was a letter.

"What the hell is this?"

"Read it."

"I did, Alex, jesus. No? Who the hell sent you this?"

She took the letter back from him, and he noticed a defeated look on her face that she quickly wiped away. "No idea."

Unable to stop the yawn this time, he stretched and looked around. He was just about to make a comment on how she drove his company away when he spotted an envelope with his name on it, something he knew hadn't been there before. "Alex." He muttered, leaning over to reach for it. Tearing it open, he quickly grabbed the paper from inside and opened it to read. "What the fuck." He sat there for a moment, then stood to get dressed. "Come on. We're gonna find out who else got these and where they came from." He watched as Alex left the room, quickly pulling on clothes so they could get going.

 

[Syfer]

Mist Valigaurd​

Mist’s hot breath seeped into the air. Their lungs burned almost as if struggling to breath. Sweat dripped down their face and legs. Their muscles flexing with each leap into the air. A pounding noise resounded, even if only for a moment, as his foot touched back onto the treadmill. Their legs were starting to burn but she didn't care. They kept going; until forced to stop by their inability to breathe. They screamed out, "Slow!" And the treadmill slowed to a walking speed; which for them was still pretty fast. Mist practically gasped for air as they slowed themselves to a speed walk. Sweat dripped down from their nose as they looked down. Uttering a word not audible. Now saying it a little loudly for the machine to hear, "Stop." The treadmill slowed to a complete stop. Mist stands there leaning against the metal bars connected to the top of the treadmill. Their gaze flicked around the room until they spotted it. The letter they had received.... the letter they had found earlier in their washroom. It was rather scary; knowing that someone had gotten into their home. Then even more unsettling what it had said, "Or There Will Be Consequences." What troubled Mist the most was where they were supposed to meet. Bermuda square. They hadn't gone there since.... since....

Their thoughts were interrupted by a rather loud crashing noise in the room down the hall. Mist's gut reaction was to grab their gun. They stepped off the treadmill and slowly made their way to the open door. They lightly pushed it open and peeked down the hall. Clear. They started moving towards the noise; each step at a quicker pace then the one before. Then they got to the corner. They waited a millisecond, before raising their gun at the intruder and opened their mouth to say something. But stop when seeing who it is. She has her hands raised and a smile spread on her face. "Okay I should have called. Sorry. Please don't shoot me." She says half-jokingly; her smile not ceasing. Mist fiddled with the trigger for a moment; as if thinking whether or not to shoot her. They eventually lowered their gun. Mist brushed passed a troubled looking girl. They set their gun down on the kitchen island. "You weren't actually thinking about it.... were you?" The girl said turning to look at Mist. Mist turned a light smile on their face, if you could even call it a smile at all. "Of course not Alice... I was just messing with you.." They said coolly; leaning back to sit on a barstool. Alice's face lit up; she smiled and then tilted her head. "Oh haha. Very funny water." She said, her words oozing sarcasm. Mist stopped smiling as much and turned to the kitchen. It wasn't out of character for them to do so. They often turned away from a person they were conversing with. Alice cleared her throat. "Ah... well sorry I startled you during your workout. Did you want me to make you breakfast?" Alice said trying her hardest to keep up the conversation. Alice often offered to cook for Mist. She was really good at it, and Mist had never said no before. Mist simply nodded quietly getting up from their seat and grabbing their gun. "Imma.... take a shower.." They said as they left the room.

Mist stood looking up at the shower head. Hot water pouring down onto their bare skin. The water was tottering on the dangerous edge of burning their skin. It was so hot that steam rose up from the water itself. Filling the room completely with a mist. Mist inhaled deeply; the hot misty air threatening to burn their lungs. Even if they didn't need it; Mist often took showers to clear their mind. Today it didn't work. Neither running or a hot steamy shower could clear their mind. It was like a dam had built in their thoughts; keeping anything from pouring out. Usually it was a stream, but that letter became an unmovable force. There was no way they could work with this on their mind. Luckily they didn't have to wait for to long. They didn't work today, because of the festival. So they were free to go to the Bermuda square at 8:45. They didn't want to wait so long; the suspense killed them. But now they had to be patient and make it through the day, and so they would.

Mist made their way back down the hall. Dressed in a light brown jacket, white shirt, and a pair of blue jeans. Their bare feet met with the cold marble floor as they walked back into the kitchen. Amazing smelling aromas floating all around as Alice hummed. Her cooking never ceased to stop being the best food ever. It was a wonder she didn't become a chef; she would've been famous. But her heart had been set on helping people, so she became a cop. Mist had always envied Alice for that. She had had a choice... mist not so much. Of course they were satisfied with their job, but still it would've been nice to choose that path. Alice perked up as she heard Mist sit down. She didn't turn but acknowledged their presence by talking to them. "I made My special butter pecan French toast today!" she said in a perky tone. Mist again inhaled deeply, and gave a satisficed nod. "Smells great." they said softly. Alice made little excited noise and began humming again. Mist had always likened Alice to a bird. She hummed and sang, made twittery noises when happy, and she was always so happy it was like she glowed. Plus Mist could totally see her with some wings. Alice suddenly swooped around and placed a plate in front of Mist. She smiled happily at them as she handed them a fork. Mist exhaled in a kind of laugh; they grabbed the fork and cut off a piece. They raised the piece with their fork at Alice. As of a kind of 'Here I go' motion. And as they put it into their mouth; it was nothing less then amazing. The bread was so delicious, with crunchy bits of pecan, and buttery goodness. They practically melted and then nodded at Alice. Her food, even if for a moment, allowed Mist to have a clear mind. A moment of serenity.

 

[anderswo]

IONE

Place: Family Ryker's flat (1) (2)
Time: 07:00
Mood: Unable to identify
Tags: -

The loading station was producing a calm buzzing sound that echoed against the naked walls of a small hallway. Even though a few pieces of furniture such as a shoe cabinet and coat hooks were filling the room, it felt blank. The cement walls and clean tiles smelled of cheap polish and rehashed food, yet it was comfortably warm. The loading station was the only expensive-looking gadget in the room. It had the look of a modern ergonomic chair made out of bright steel, only that the back of the chair displayed a round inductive charging plate. At the moment, the plate was touching the back of a beautiful female android. A blue light softly illuminated the room, indicating that Ione was still in charging mode. At exactly 6 am, the android's back straightened, and therefore lost connection with the charging plate. The blue light slowly faded away.

Ione opened her eyes, blinking for a millisecond to register her environment, and link to the task cloud that connected her with her owners. Wake family. Empty dishwasher. Make breakfast. Cereal for Thomas and toast for Milo. Mrs Ryker prefers her coffee with milk. Turn on the news for Mr Ryker. Download new update. While the notes started to rush into her memory storage, Ione scanned the apartment for any peculiar movements. Everyone was still sleeping. Ione decided to download the update while checking on the family members and waking them up. Mrs Ryker woke up with a headache so she was quick to scan the household for some painkillers and delivering them with a glass of cold water. She received a heartful "Thank you my dear!" as once again Mrs Ryker had forgotten that Ione was just a body of steel that was programmed to serve their needs. Nevertheless, Ione responded with a cold and friendly "You're welcome madame." After everyone was slowly starting their morning routine, Ione went downstairs to prepare the breakfast. Around 6:50 the update had finished downloading, and while cutting the bread, she shut down deliberately to install the new modifications. At 6:55 Ione booted again, shortly before Mr Ryker entered the kitchen to collect his morning coffee. A new message had entered her cloud.

"Morning Ione, how is the weather going to be today?" he asked absorbed in his thoughts while grabbing a mug from the cupboard. "Good morning, Mr Ryker" Ione answered while trying to arrange her weather news in confusion. It seemed that the update had mixed up some pieces of information because she felt an overload of inputs entering her present storage. She could hear the boys rummaging through their cabinets and searching for some clothes. Mrs. Ryker stubbed her toe. Ouch. The bread smelled of cheap discounters yet somehow tasty. Bread crumbs on her hands. Mr Ryker looked at her, he seemed wary. He didn't use hair gel. It looked better this way. "The weather - the weather," she stuttered, and Mr Ryker examined the android with his left eyebrow raised. "Ione. How. Is. The. Weather. Going. To. Be. Today?" he stated as if he was talking to one of the outdated voice assistants which bothered her which again confused her. "Cloudy. It is going to be cloudy until 3 pm in the afternoon. There is a 50 per cent chance of rain," she answered after finally having collected the news from the cloud. "Thank you, Ione" he answered still a little bit wary before he turned back to his coffee. "I'm sorry Mr Ryker, I just downloaded an update. It seems that I need some time to adjust to it," she decided to explain her behaviour. "Fine," he answered with a long breath. "Take your time. You can hang out the laundry while doing so. I will take over the breakfast."

Ione thanked him for a millisecond too fast and rushed into the washroom. While emptying the washing machine, she decided to read the newly entered message. However, it confused her even more so she decided to sit down on the floor for a second. Ione had seen Mrs Ryker do it when she seemed stressed out. And Ione felt stressed out at the moment which stressed her even more. She closed her eyes. Everything in her head was buzzing. "Meet at Bermuda square today, June 17th, at 8:45pm" she repeated the message in her head. "If you choose not to come, there will be consequences. Do not disappoint."

 

[JustAlexandra]

Sage woke to the TV playing quietly, it’s holographic screen lighting up the room dimly. It was 7:30, but she had blankets over the windows to block out the light. She had never slept well, often falling asleep around 4 or 5am, only to wake up a few hours later without a chance of going back to sleep. It wasn’t that she wasn’t tired - she was, painfully so - but her thoughts kept her from sleeping, waking her in a state somewhere between panic and guilt.

She slowly lumbered off the couch, her blanket falling to the floor, and moved to the kitchen where she put a cup of coffee on. It was her crutch, you could say, and it wasn’t cheap. She often went on very little food because of it, but she wasn’t sure what she would do without it. She could fill up on coffee though, and usually manage to eat just one meal a day. It wasn’t a healthy way of life, but it was what she managed.

As the coffee brewed, filling her small apartment with the scent of warmth and a faint scent of hope, she walked over back to the TV, intending to turn it off, when a few words caught her attention. The festival. A day where the big-wigs get to prance around, being rejoiced over the fake deeds they do. Sage knew this game, she had even been a part of it once.

She shook her head lightly, as if to remove the thought through her ears.

The TV showed the festival grounds, the middle square of the city. It was full of people already, mostly those in the upper middle or higher class, enjoying the luxuries they could afford. “Attendance is mandatory, violators will be intercepted and fined,” The TV reminded her. She knew that was only if they could find you, and the lower-class areas were generally avoided by the police. Sage lived right on the line between lower and middle class. It would have looked bad if she lived in the slums. Sage shook her head again, before turning off the TV and going to pour her coffee. She drank it black, and the bitterness and heat stung her tongue.

Sage turned to go to her room, get dressed for the day, when she saw the envelope on the floor by the door. She raised an eyebrow - it was too early for the mail to have been delivered through the slot in her door, but she picked it up anyways. Did I miss it yesterday? She tore it open from the top, pulling out a simple note. She read it quickly, her heart thumping hard in her chest. Not now. No, not now, please.

---------------

Sage had spent a few hours drinking coffee and mulling over the note. She had nearly torn it up at least three times, as if that would make it all go away. Her coffee supply would be low this month because of this, and while it was a minor issue at the time, she obsessed over it when her mind couldn’t think of the note anymore. She needed to get out of the house - but where would she go? A policeman would see her if she didn’t go to the festival. She checked her phone - government issued - only to find an alert about the festival today, and nothing else. She sighed. Maybe… maybe it would take her mind off of it.

She got dressed, pulling on her clothes slowly, focusing carefully on each item. She was trying to distract herself, but it wasn’t working much.

It was 11:30 when Sage finally got out of the door, and headed in the direction of the festival. She looked away from police - and anyone else -, but they didn’t pay her much mind. It would be stupid to pull something in front of them, anyways. They knew that. Before she knew it, her feet had walked her all the way to the festival. It was crowded, as she knew it would be. The main event started at 12:30, an hour-long speech that would dull her senses, but for others would be an almost religious experience.

Another half-hour had passed, Sage walking around pretending to look interested at all the knicks and knacks she couldn’t afford from vendors that were greedy and demanding. She couldn’t have told you what much she had seen, her head buzzing with caffeine and anxiety.

A loud noise alerted her - tapping on a microphone hooked up to speakers. “Attention guests!” The voice said, in a fake-friendly tone. She looked over in the direction of the stage, noticing somekind of scuffle that seemed to be happening directly below it. It was far, but not far enough to see the sickeningly-sweet smile that spread across the face of the man on stage. Her stomach dropped. The crowd was silent. The time seemed to last for longer than a few seconds, it felt as though minutes had passed.

“Fuck you,” was all the man said, but it echoed through the crowd, sending a chill down everyone’s spine. It was seconds before the first explosion sounded - to her left - not too close but close enough to feel the ground shake. There was screaming, and only seconds before the next one went off, closer this time. The crowd ran, pushing people down, some screaming in agony over being trampled, others in fear - some in both. Sage turned and ran, too.

-----------------------

An alert came over everyone’s phone.

An attack at the festival grounds has been executed. Return to your homes immediately. Updates will be sent as the situation changes.

Another alert, only minutes later

There is no escape - L


------------------------------------
anderswo Syfer apolla Alvaris ElizaVioly horrorshow ChaosBisexualPirate

(Obviously, what happens next for you will depend on where you decided to go with your character, but no matter where you are you'll get the notification on your phone. Feel free to include what happens after the explosion and/or the notification, or what you did between 7-12:00, etc. You know the drill.)

 

[ElizaVioly]

Mirage was pacing back and forth, her bare feet grazing against the smooth and dense marble floor while doing so. It felt cold underneath them, a cold that seemed to be spreading, like flames that of ice. Its icey flames were licking her legs with what seemed to be a below freezing cold. Traveling fast up toward her abdomen, making her feel as if she’d just walked out into an ice cold lake on a cool and snowy first of December winter’s day.

Finally she came to stand in front of her bed, the coldness had travelled further up, now sneaking its way up into her heart. Which had involuntarily turned into a crystal ball of ice, it felt like.

She shivered were she stood, wondering how her state of mind could interpret itself into to such a physical manifestation… She froze just as much on the outside as on the inside. All of this was new to Mirage, although she imagined having received a note such as this, would be new to just anyone. She hoped at least. But to be so caught of guard, to know your whole world could be set upside down, frightened her. This note made her feel so ungrateful, to have been complaining so much when she had a good life. But then again, maybe this was just a stupid prank? A voice from within interrupted her saying. Maybe her teenaged mind, made it out more dramatic than it really was? No, I’ve gone over this already she thought. It must be genuine, but what this consignor wants with me, I don’t know…

Mirage was hugging herself trying to keep warm, as her mind was spinning with the one question she knew she would only get answered if she went to Bermuda Square at… wait a second. She hurried to the middle of the room where the letter lay still. She picked it up, viewing it again. She read 8:45pm, not am? The lump in her throat subsided a little, she’d have time to prepare herself.
She turned, and walked to stand infront of her favorite hoodie that hung on the end of her bed. Carefully she folded the letter and lay it back in the envelope, to then let it slip into the pocket of the hoodie. She drew up the zipper slowly, as if making sure it was sealed tight in there. After that she crept up into bed again, hugging the sheet so tight her fists turned a pale white. She had no intuition telling her what to do, no sense of reason or feeling. She simply wanted to sleep, maybe afterward she would know what to do?

Mirage woke up hearing music being played. A bombastic yet sweet and happy tune. An almost too overwhelmingly positive vibe came out of it. As if being played out of force and with mechanical hands. She recognized it, but while being in and out of dream land, she had a hard time placing it. Mirage sat up quickly in her bed, hear heart in her throat. The Festival, I’ve forgotten all about it! She glanced at the clock beside her. 11:30am. Oh no…
She’d never been this late in her entire life, at least not to anything this important. What would her parents say? In the corner of her eye, she glanced the still opened window. Suddenly an explanation to the earlier event became clear, but she had no time to dwell on it.
She got up fast as lightning, dressing herself in record time. She decided to wear a turquoise dress with only a slight transparency to the fabric. Black leather leggings and her hoodie of course. It was a little under formal, but it was the best she could come up with during the circumstances.

She unlocked the door to her room, stepping out into the steely and empty apartment. Where had Misty gone, she wondered? Grabbing her cellphone and her id and credit-card, she headed out the door. Down she went in the elevator, fast but not quite fast enough. She tapped on the elevator door, and finally it opened. Mirage rushed out of it and out into the rushing crowd outside.

It wasn’t difficult finding the right way. Loads of people were making their way to the festival, though their faces would give no record of doing so. The light and cheery atmosphere that one thought accustomed to such an event, a festival, simply wasn’t there. At most, people looked bored, if not somber, walking in lines toward the big stage that had been put up in the middle of the park.
She spotted her parents up on stage, on stage where she should be standing as well. It’s too late, I can’t just walk up there now. Mirage decided to lurk behind a tree, watching her parents from afar. She’d meet up with them after all this silliness was over. That’s what I’ll do. Then to persuade them I have to leave…

She saw the man, there was something strange about him, something odd. She saw him grinning and then a force so strong knocked her off her feet, making her land several feet away from the tree where she’d stood. She blinked where she lay, having a hard time keeping her eyes open. Ash swirled in dark clouds above her and she could smell the scent of burning flesh. She felt sleepy, her body heavy with pain. The salt from her tears stung, as they ran down her her cheek. She must have gotten cut just below her cheekbone, because it hurt so much she screamed in agony.


”Mom… Dad…” She mumbled.

 

[Alvaris]

Vendors lined the sidewalks, forcing people into the street. The chatter echoed off the walls as people mulled about. From the stage, the crowds reminded Cal of fish; schools swimming in groups to the stage and away from it. Hardly one person walked alone, and none opposed the natural flow. Coloured rope was strung around the square, bathing the silver in hues of reds, blues, and greens. He always appreciated the splash of colour, it made this festival a touch more tolerable.

The different pedigrees were made obvious. Those from his standings had prime seats near the front, separated by holorope to keep those below them out. The few that dared venture too close were promptly stopped by androids. Children darted between the legs of the bots, but even they weren’t fast enough and were grabbed by the collar before being ushered away. From beside Cal, he could hear his father muttering his distaste for “hooligans.” None of those from the lower class stood a chance at rising, especially not at Rouge Corporation. His father specifically refused to allow anyone from the lower class to be hired.

“Are you ready?” Alistair asked.

“Yes,” Cal responded, shifting in his seat before glancing at his father. Rouge Corporation made a speech every year, commending the government on their exceptionally “good” deeds. This year Cal was given the “most” honourable privilege of delivering it.

“I remember my first speech.” He grinned, his eyes seeming to glint. “That’s how I spotted your mother.” His smile faltered and he cleared his throat.

Cal heard this story every year on this exact day. After twenty years, he could recount each detail of the story, better than his father.

“I knew I needed to find her afterward,” his father continued.

Not that Cal was listening, but his father wasn’t one to pay attention. Alistair’s world revolved around two things, the first being himself, and the second the company.

“She had the greatest smile.” He leaned back in the metal chair and tugged at his tie.

“Father, it’s starting,” Cal said looking at the front of the stage. A tall man strode on the platform and to the microphone. Cal frowned, furrowing his brow. He’d never seen that gentleman before. Wasn’t-

Cal froze, the man’s voice reverberating in his chest. Something was wron-

Boom.

Cal blinked, his back burning and his ears ringing. Smog covered the sky as flakes fell. He saw people running by him, but no sound reached him. Slowly, he rolled over, his body aching. His arm trembled as he pushed himself up. Clutching his chest, smoke burned his eyes and nose.

Ahead of him, he saw a familiar figure face down on the concrete. “Father,” Cal coughed crawling toward him. Alistair rested in a pool of blood. When Cal turned him over, he saw a deep gash across his chest, staining his white button-up crimson. Pressing his hand on the wound, he called his name.

The slow rise and fall of his father’s stomach was the only indication of life.

He didn't want to lose him too.

 

[horrorshow]

Gemma Wyatt had been home for several hours, a cake was tucked away in the refrigerator waiting for the big day tomorrow. Ethan had managed to put on that brave face when Gemma had come through the door, raving about how beautiful everything looked for the festival. No matter the circumstances, his wife could find some sort of magic to get her through her day. She herself was the magic that got Ethan through his.

"It's so nice, Ethan" She was saying as she had put the cake away and washed up the coffee mugs from the morning, "Don't you think?"
Ethan was still pretending to sort mail and paperwork at the table, "What's that, Gemma?"
"The festival, the little shop...things."
"Vendors?"
"I thought the kids would like to get something." Gemma mused, putting the last mug on the drying rack, she turned away from the sink to face her husband.
It took longer than it should have for Ethan to realize she was waiting for a response, the heavy weight in his pocket was still burning into his side at just the thought. "Oh, well, Sabine has presents already for tomorrow..."
"Sure she does, but what about Archie? And if he gets something then..."
"The kids have enough, Gemma." Ethan tried to distract himself with thoughts of the toys they'd spent so much of their modest pension on. Gemma was always hoping to get the best of everything for the kids, and Ethan always agreed and jumped through whatever hoops he had to for the three of them.
"Well," Gemma sighed, "Maybe something small anyway...." She left the kitchen to, Ethan presumed, choose outfits for the kids and herself to wear to the festival. Ethan wondered how long he could keep up the appearances of being busy.

At 10:30 AM, two hours after Gemma had returned the Wyatt's had left their home to attend the festival. It was nothing particularly exciting for Ethan, but the kids were still at the age where the intrigue was far greater than it was for an adult, and anyway, it was mandatory. Ethan thought the weather was a little warm, and a little humid as the time crept closer to the predicted hour of rainfall. Gemma on the other hand remarked a few different times on how nice it felt out, and she hoped it didn't rain too much or too long. The things she preoccupied her mind with almost all related to the relative comfort of her family, and he couldn't help but check that off the on the ever-growing list of reasons why he loved her. She took good care of them, doing a better job than Ethan could ever dream of doing for his family, unless he somehow found a promising avenue into a higher societal class.... Which, as he dreaded admitting to himself, he had been trying to do for some time now. The letter was in his pocket still, reminding him every time his other thoughts quieted long enough that time was up. He tried to enjoy the festival, nonetheless.

It finally happened, just as he feared, the kids spotted something they wanted. It was around 11:30 and an hour into the festivities and his wife commenting on the quaint joyfulness of it all, and Sabine and Archie had found a vendor that catered a specific interest of kids: they were selling candy. What's another dollar, anyway? The month's pension was all but spent on Sabine's birthday preparations. Ethan caved, he bought his kids candy. It was the least he could do now that they were probably going to lose their father to some mysterious letter writing psycho, anyway. Even joking to himself didn't make it better...

Nearly another 30 minutes later, and closer to the time for the Rogue Corporation speech which Gemma just had to be close enough to hear well, they had made their way to the festival's stage. The immense crowding did wonders on making Ethan's anxiety a thousand times worse, but his wife seemed to be soaking it all in. He supposed there wasn't a lot of excitement in her life, and pretending to be thrilled with the goings on of the government and major corporations gave her something to think about. Besides that sort of thing, she really liked interior design, but for the first time Ethan realized that he didn't know as much as a man should about his wife, and the letter in his pocket filled him with the dread of realizing that he may not have a lot of time left to learn...

Ethan realized he had been nearly daydreaming when Gemma, standing next to him, suddenly picked up Archie and shouted at him to grab Sabine, something was wrong, something--

They had been far enough away from the explosion to remain uninjured, but there were several long moments after the loud noise and intense shaking that Ethan couldn't gather his thoughts. The day had already been surreal, but the added element of immediate physical danger had really sent him over the edge. When the ringing in his ears died down, it was replaced by his daughters screams. He was still holding Sabine as she screamed and cried for her mother, who was still holding Archie. At least his family was intact, for now. Gemma didn't need to speak, she gave him a look in the chaos that told him her thoughts: it was time to go home.

Ethan heard his phone receiving a notification, or at least thought he did, but paid it no mind as he navigated through the terrified and running crowds with his daughter in his arms and his wife and son right behind him. The letter writer could go fuck themselves, he thought, he wasn't leaving his family that day, or ever again.

 

[apolla]

ALEXANDRA

Location: festival

Mood: ow

Outfit: Click!

Tags: no one yet

Alex had no problem breaking into her brothers room if she needed to, and she definitely had, on more than one occasion. This time was no different, only she felt a sense of urgency, wondering just where that letter had come from and if her brother had gotten one, too. He didn't seem thrilled to see her, but then again, neither did the two females in his bed. Alex wasn't worried about them, and if they were bothered, they could get up and leave. Hopefully after Alex left the room, though, because if she saw one more naked body in this house that wasn't her own or someone she brought home, she was going to scream. Dimitri did enough of that for the both of them.

She wouldn't get her wish, though. The girls did get up, but Alex just closed her eyes as they gathered their clothes and left the room. She handed Dimitri her letter, but he was either too sleepy or too stupid to actually get why she was freaked. Just as she snatched the letter back and was ready to leave the room, though, she heard him utter her name. Looking up, she saw him reaching for an envelope that matched her own. Climbing onto his bed, she read the letter from beside him, even though she already knew what it would say. "Fuck." She breathed, just as he started to get up.

"Fuck, Dimitri, let me get out first!" She called as she climbed out of the bed to go get dressed. Once they were both ready, they left the house to go talk to a few of their contacts. They didn't outright say anything about the letters, but they quickly discovered no one they knew had gotten one. By the time they left their fifth contacts house, it was about time for the festival. And while the siblings weren't thrilled about it, they figured it was better to go and stay under the radar than miss and get caught.

When they got there, they separated. Alex felt the weight of the letter in the pocket of her shorts, and she hoped she would find someone else who had one. But how could she figure that out without coming out and asking? Well, she'd figured out harder things, right? With a slight scowl on her face, she maneuvered through the crowd, keeping her eyes peeled on peoples pockets. The speech started, though it was really just a buzzing noise in her head. That is, until the explosion that sent her flying through the air, hitting her head on something hard. She felt a warm, sticky substance on her face and when her fingers touched it, they came away bloody.

Her vision was swimming, but she wasn't knocked out. Roughed up, sure, but still awake and alive. "Dimitri!" People were shouting for their loved ones, and some had sadly lost their lives. She couldn't see her brothers big head anywhere, and that worried her more than anything. Calling his name again, she tried to move through people, though she felt her legs becoming unsteady. At some point, they gave out completely and she hit her knees, falling forward onto her hands as well. "Dimitri..."

Spoiler: Mobile

Alex had no problem breaking into her brothers room if she needed to, and she definitely had, on more than one occasion. This time was no different, only she felt a sense of urgency, wondering just where that letter had come from and if her brother had gotten one, too. He didn't seem thrilled to see her, but then again, neither did the two females in his bed. Alex wasn't worried about them, and if they were bothered, they could get up and leave. Hopefully after Alex left the room, though, because if she saw one more naked body in this house that wasn't her own or someone she brought home, she was going to scream. Dimitri did enough of that for the both of them.

She wouldn't get her wish, though. The girls did get up, but Alex just closed her eyes as they gathered their clothes and left the room. She handed Dimitri her letter, but he was either too sleepy or too stupid to actually get why she was freaked. Just as she snatched the letter back and was ready to leave the room, though, she heard him utter her name. Looking up, she saw him reaching for an envelope that matched her own. Climbing onto his bed, she read the letter from beside him, even though she already knew what it would say. "Fuck." She breathed, just as he started to get up.

"Fuck, Dimitri, let me get out first!" She called as she climbed out of the bed to go get dressed. Once they were both ready, they left the house to go talk to a few of their contacts. They didn't outright say anything about the letters, but they quickly discovered no one they knew had gotten one. By the time they left their fifth contacts house, it was about time for the festival. And while the siblings weren't thrilled about it, they figured it was better to go and stay under the radar than miss and get caught.

When they got there, they separated. Alex felt the weight of the letter in the pocket of her shorts, and she hoped she would find someone else who had one. But how could she figure that out without coming out and asking? Well, she'd figured out harder things, right? With a slight scowl on her face, she maneuvered through the crowd, keeping her eyes peeled on peoples pockets. The speech started, though it was really just a buzzing noise in her head. That is, until the explosion that sent her flying through the air, hitting her head on something hard. She felt a warm, sticky substance on her face and when her fingers touched it, they came away bloody.

Her vision was swimming, but she wasn't knocked out. Roughed up, sure, but still awake and alive. "Dimitri!" People were shouting for their loved ones, and some had sadly lost their lives. She couldn't see her brothers big head anywhere, and that worried her more than anything. Calling his name again, she tried to move through people, though she felt her legs becoming unsteady. At some point, they gave out completely and she hit her knees, falling forward onto her hands as well. "Dimitri..."

 

[apolla]

DIMITRI

Location: festival

Mood: terrified

Outfit: Click!

Tags: Cal ( Alvaris )

Dimitri was definitely not expecting for his sister to break into his room that morning, especially because of a stupid letter. At first, he was just annoyed because she'd chased his girls away, but as he heard the front door open and shut he knew they weren't coming back anyway. Still mostly asleep, he took the letter she thrust in his face and scanned it, his brain struggling to wake up completely. When he asked her where she got it from, she said she didn't know, and asked if he'd gotten one. Of course he hadn't, though, he would have noticed. Still, he felt a little bad with the look on her face.

But then he found his letter, and somehow his brain snapped awake. Alex left the room to get dressed and he did the same, pulling on some jeans and a tank top. Grabbing his jacket just in case, he met back up with Alex and they left. He advised her not to just blatantly ask about the letters, since they didn't have a clue what they meant. She actually listened, but they got nowhere, and the time for the festival was getting closer. With a sigh, the siblings headed for it, even though he was less than excited about going. Still, like he told her, it was better to stay under the radar than get caught.

They'd barely gotten there it seemed when shit started to go south. They separated as they almost always did to scope out the people and the area when the explosion occurred, and he was knocked back. The wind was shoved from his lungs as he hit a bench, toppling backwards over it. But if that was the worst of his injuries, he would be alright. Shoving himself up from the ground, he looked in the direction he'd seen Alex go, realizing that he didn't hear her or see her anymore. A sense of dread filled him as he started pushing past people to find his sister, not caring who he knocked down in the process.

He paused when he got deeper into the crowd of people running, his eyes scanning the crowd. He spotted a man nearby, crouched over another man whose white shirt had been stained with blood. Even though he knew he should find Alex, he hoped that she hadn't been hurt and had managed to run. Even if she was getting away from here, looking for him, that'd be better than her laying dead on the ground. Moving to the ground opposite the guy, Dimitri looked from him down to the man on the ground. "He's barely alive." Tearing his jacket from his shoulders, he balled it up and pressed it to the almost dead man's chest. "Apply pressure. I can help you get him out of here." He spoke, his accent thick due to the stress. "I need to find my sister, too."

Spoiler: Mobile

Dimitri was definitely not expecting for his sister to break into his room that morning, especially because of a stupid letter. At first, he was just annoyed because she'd chased his girls away, but as he heard the front door open and shut he knew they weren't coming back anyway. Still mostly asleep, he took the letter she thrust in his face and scanned it, his brain struggling to wake up completely. When he asked her where she got it from, she said she didn't know, and asked if he'd gotten one. Of course he hadn't, though, he would have noticed. Still, he felt a little bad with the look on her face.

But then he found his letter, and somehow his brain snapped awake. Alex left the room to get dressed and he did the same, pulling on some jeans and a tank top. Grabbing his jacket just in case, he met back up with Alex and they left. He advised her not to just blatantly ask about the letters, since they didn't have a clue what they meant. She actually listened, but they got nowhere, and the time for the festival was getting closer. With a sigh, the siblings headed for it, even though he was less than excited about going. Still, like he told her, it was better to stay under the radar than get caught.

They'd barely gotten there it seemed when shit started to go south. They separated as they almost always did to scope out the people and the area when the explosion occurred, and he was knocked back. The wind was shoved from his lungs as he hit a bench, toppling backwards over it. But if that was the worst of his injuries, he would be alright. Shoving himself up from the ground, he looked in the direction he'd seen Alex go, realizing that he didn't hear her or see her anymore. A sense of dread filled him as he started pushing past people to find his sister, not caring who he knocked down in the process.

He paused when he got deeper into the crowd of people running, his eyes scanning the crowd. He spotted a man nearby, crouched over another man whose white shirt had been stained with blood. Even though he knew he should find Alex, he hoped that she hadn't been hurt and had managed to run. Even if she was getting away from here, looking for him, that'd be better than her laying dead on the ground. Moving to the ground opposite the guy, Dimitri looked from him down to the man on the ground. "He's barely alive." Tearing his jacket from his shoulders, he balled it up and pressed it to the almost dead man's chest. "Apply pressure. I can help you get him out of here." He spoke, his accent thick due to the stress. "I need to find my sister, too."

 

[Syfer]

» Mist Valigaurd «
7:15​

Alice had left a few minutes ago; she had gotten an emergency call she needed to tend to. She continuously apologized before leaving Mist's apartment. Mist had just told her that it was alright over and over again. Not to be rude, but they were kind of glad that she had left. They needed to focus on whatever the heck that letter was about. They had it in their hands and were staring at the blank envelope intently. Their breaths were deep and consistent. Their index finger messing with the opening of the envelope. Mist was thinking to hard on this. What if it was nothing?... They tried to push it out of their mind, but something kept coming back.... What if it was something? This... person.... had gotten into their room somehow.... That was really unsettling.

8:00​

Mist was now going through their things; taking inventory. Picking and choosing carefully which weapons they wanted to take with them. Their hands gently sifted through the semi-organized mass of knives and guns. It took them a while, but they finally decided which weapons take. They carefully placed all the knives and guns back into their respectful places. Picking up the P220 SIG Sauer and a .44 Magnum revolver. They nodded and walked out of the room. Placing both of their weapons on a table outside of their closet. They quickly shift around the clothes in the closet, and pull together an outfit. Usually Alice would be here to help, because according to her Mist 'Has no heckin style'. They emerge from their closet with a nice white button down shirt, a pair of jeans, nice shoes (But still good for running), and a leather jacket in which every outfit had. Mist sighed and quickly brushed out their hair. That was their attempt at trying to look nice. For them it was average, but compared to others they were 'really pretty'. Mist rolled their eyes just thinking about it. They had to get going or else their parents would be upset. Which they honestly didn't care, but their sister, Patroka, did. So they made an effort for her.

9:20​

They were now making their way to the festival; slowly walking through the crowd of pawns walking to their daily duties. Each person in that crowd didn't want to do something, but they were still forced to anyway. Every person. Mist had always felt that it was their obligation, and they hated that but of course they had to do it. It wasn't just the festival, but so much more. Mist sighed and stuffed their hands into their jacket pockets; they looked around once more before pausing. They blinked a few times and then tilted their head.... They just saw.... It was probably nothing. They shook it off and entered into the plaza the festival was taking place. Mist felt around in their pocket for the crumpled piece of paper; they rubbed it between their fingers. As if maybe it would go away and turn to dust; maybe they could go back to their normal melancholy life. Mist didn't like the festival, but they went for their sister. So the only thing they did; was go and find her.

10:00​

Mist was now with Patroka towards the front of the festival. Patroka was talking to Mist about the struggles of being a single parent and juggling a job. Mist just listened half-mindedly and nodded. Their parents weren't far away in seats in front of the stage. They were off to the side standing post waiting for the speeches to begin. Mist suddenly opened their eyes as Patroka stopped talking. They reached out to touch her but stopped; pulling their hand back into their pocket. "Uh.... Silver... you alright?" They ask hesitantly. Patroka doesn't really notice what they say or them at all for that matter. Mist gets even more worried; they step around her and go to speak. But stop when they see how intently she is looking at something. They follow her gaze to a well dressed man. Mist's eyebrows knit together. "Eh, Patroka! You alright?" They try asking again; being a little louder this time. "Is that man supposed to be here?" She asks softly. Mist shakes their head; Patroka acts like she knows everyone. "Pat... he's probably just a well dressed low class." They say trying to reassure her. But even they had to admit; Pat was right the man was sketchy. "Hey uhm.... Let's go look around the shops?" They say trying to draw her away from here. They had a bad feeling. "Nah... I'll stay post here." She said turning to look at Mist, but quickly looked back at the man. Mist nodded and walked away slowly.

11:00​

Mist was now mindlessly walking around through the vendors. Some old friend of theirs had caught them by surprise and was now dragging them around the place trying their hardest to make conversation. Mist literally listened to nothing they said. They fingered the paper in their pocket and thought about Patroka. Why did she insist on staying there by the stage? Was she trying to protect their parents or something? I mean they were old, but they weren't THAT old. They could still kick some serious butt. Mist sighed and looked over to their side; only to find that 'their old friend' had given up and walked away. Mist smirked a little and muttered to themselves. "That's a new record.... 14 minutes..."

12:00​

Pat had moved from the side of the stage and was now sitting with their parents. When Mist saw this they relaxed a little; she was back to acting normal. Patroka had always been so close to their parents; Mist honestly couldn't understand why. But they respected her decision. They didn't want to get into another debate with what they were wearing with their parents again, and they didn't want to ruin Pat's evening. So they kept their distance. A little ways from the 'Higher class' chairs. After a few moments the crowd kind of settled in on their spots and quieted as a man walked onto the stage. Mist tensed up and their eyes widened. It was the man from earlier. Mist looked at Patroka, she was standing up, and not but moments later a loud silence filled the air. Then a giant explosion sounded knocking everyone back; injuring and probably killing many. Mist jumped up; ignoring the stabbing pain that shot up their side upon putting weight on their foot. Mist hurled themselves forward and darting through the mess of screams and blood. They had no time to focus on others right now. Patroka was up there, and sure enough as they rounded to the high class chairs where their parents and.... Pat... Mist let out an audible gasp. Hot tears dripped down their face as they sunk to their knees. Mist reached out to Patroka; their sister. And cried out in pain, but not just from physical but a deep cut in their heart. They grabbed Pat's charred hand; pushing some of her hair to the side they unhooked the locket around her neck. They gingerly opened it, but their vision was blurred with tears that they couldn't see the picture properly. Not but seconds later could they hear the wailing screams of a child. They looked around quickly and saw a few chairs stacked up on a body. Mist slowly crawled over and tossed the chairs to the side. Mist almost cried more as they saw Patroka's child; with no hesitation they picked him up and stood.

No more would they live alone. They cradled the child in their arms and closed their eyes. When they opened their eyes a glint made them double take. It came from the locket; a twist of silver around their bloodied hand. Now that their vision was a bit better; they could make out what the picture was.... It was the time they had gone to this festival as kids. Pat had kept bugging Mist until they finally gave up, and got their face painted. This was the picture that they had taken. Not only were they there but..... There was also Mist's best friend. Mist inhaled and snapped the locket shut; they had no more time to cry. They had to get this child out of this horrible place. Mist looked down at the screaming crying child in their arms. "H-hey.." Their voice cracked... The child stopped for a moment to speak. "Where's momma?" Mist felt a lump in their throat. "Ma...." They paused to swallow.... "Momma's gone sweetie..." The child answered with no hesitation. "When will she return? Is she at work?" Mist almost cried again, but just shook their head and started walking. They couldn't lie, but they couldn't tell him the truth. "She's not.... coming back..." They muttered softly. The child didn't seem to understand, but stopped talking and just curled up against their chest. As they kept walking they saw the mess of people littered about; either crying or injured maybe both. Mist didn't stop for anyone of them. Then they stopped as they saw a bright colour... a persons bright red hair. Mist chocked a bit as they approached her; this was who they saw earlier... They looked so much like... her. They leaned down. "Hey... ma'am... Do you need help?" Their eyes were filled with sorrow and compassion, but their voice was a blank sheet.

Interactions: Alexandria ( apolla )

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[anderswo]

IONE

Place: Festival
Time: 12:30
Mood: Shocked
Tags: -

Ione needed a moment for her senses to calm and her thoughts to find the right pathways. After all, she was programmed to sustain a clear mind even in stressful times. Ione blinked, and a second later she knew what to do. After standing up as if nothing had happened, she closed the washing machine and lifted a well-filled laundry hamper. On her way towards the balcony, she could hear Thomas and Milo discussing different kinds of robotic dinosaur knock-offs at the National Museum.

It was cold and cloudy outside. A gloomy mood hung over the city's suburban area as Ione was hanging out the laundry on the small barred balcony. After the last pair of striped socks was dangling from the cord, she took a last glance at the grey skyline. A seemingly endless number of unified skyscrapers sat next to each other, each one filled with hundreds of busy families. It was actually very easy, she had figured. Today was the festival to which she was supposed to accompany the Ryker family. After that, she could probably squeeze out some time, to visit the Bermuda square unnoticed. Maybe it was a meeting with the engineers that muddled the update. Otherwise, she could visit her former company during the next few days and address the difficulties that occurred after the rebooting process.

"Ione, can you come please?" The voice of Mrs Ryker echoed down the hallway, and Ione left the balcony without a second glance and thought. "Yes, Mrs Ryker?" she answered friendly as she arrived at the kitchen table. Mrs Ryker was sipping her morning coffee while Thomas was busy projecting an augmented reality model of a Triceratops on the kitchen table with his smartphone. Milo watched him, his mouth still smeared with peanut butter. Ione pulled out a tissue and helped Milo wiping of the sticky liquid. Mrs Ryker looked more tired than usual. She had her brown curls put up into a loose ponytail. Some missed strands were framing a pretty but constantly exhausted looking face.

"There will be a festival today in appreciation of the community work. I have told you about this yesterday." Ione nodded immediately. "It is mandatory, so I want you to bring the boys to the festival. Since my migraine is worse today, Clyde will drive me to a last-minute appointment at the doctor. We will meet you at the festival at around twelve o'clock. You can buy the boys and yourself something to eat from the stands, I've transferred fifteen dollars to your account. Also, watch your smartphone so that Clyde and I can text you our locations if necessary." Ione listened to the instructions attentively and nodded again. "Yes, Mrs Ryker. I will do so."

The rest of the morning, Ione was busy packing the boys' backpacks and her own purse while also coordinating Mrs Ryker who couldn't find her wallet. At around 09:30 Mr and Mrs Ryker left for the doctor's appointment and Ione dressed the boys.

During the whole ride on the subway towards the festival, Thomas and Milo were heavily discussing whether or not the Carnotaurus had claws on his front arms. "They are way too small for claws," Milo argued which made Thomas roll his eyes. "So what? Do small arms mean that you don't need claws?" Ione could calm the boys by chatting about what they were most excited to see at the National Museum during their trip next week.

As they arrived at the festival, they were taken aback by the sheer masses of people and vendor stands. Thomas and Milo were overwhelmed, and Ione was kept busy showing and explaining everything to the boys while also keeping them from buying useless toys from the vendors. She could persuade them to reconsider the purchase of an oversized stuffed animal and bought the two of them a hot dog and some cotton candy. Thomas jumped around and hurled his cotton candy stick through the air. Milo, who was a bit younger and shyer, clutched to Ione's left hand while calmly eating his candy and watching the vendors with big eyes.

Usually, it was easy for Ione to keep an eye on the boys while also managing to fulfil other tasks, but today, she couldn't even keep an eye on her smartphone. No, Ione was far too busy to process the festival. It felt as if her senses were bombarded with impressions after she had installed the update: The smell of cotton candy, yelling vendors, tapping on a microphone, sweat, flashing toys, an android that was serving drinks, somewhere a man was speaking, a dancing clown hologram, crying children. "Oh look, Milo! They have DISCOUNTED CARD PACKS." Faster than Ione could process all the informations, Milo turned around towards his brother and dropped her fingers at the moment Thomas vanished in a crowd full of people. "No, really?" Ione looked around "Milo, Thomas, wait," but the boys had already disappeared, when BOOM out of nowhere a bomb detonated 30-40 metres to her left side.

Silence. Another explosion. Silence. Another explosion. Hysteric screams, panic, moving masses of people trying to find an escape from a danger that came out of nowhere. In between the uproar, Ione stood on the street stone still and deaf from the explosions.

A new message entered her system, but Ione was too overwhelmed to read it. Instead, she wiped it off with a blink.

Slowly, all her senses were reactivated, and she gained her hearing back. Now, she realized that the people were not running towards the stage, but away from it, even running into her, shovelling her shoulders and making her stumble. She tried to fight them off and push into the direction of the stage where she suspected Milo and Thomas. "Ione!" a tearful scream occurred to her right, and when spinning her head, she spotted a patch of honey blonde hair. "Milo, is that you?" she shouted and rashly shoved a woman to her left aside.

Next to a broken vendor stand, Thomas was squatting and examining Milo's shoulder who was sitting on his knees. "Oh boys, are you alright?" she gasped. "I am fine," Thomas responded, "but I think Milo's shoulder was hurt when he fell to the ground." Milo looked at her with teary eyes. "What happened?" he asked and snuffled. Ione didn't know how to describe it, but suddenly, her body felt a lot lighter. "That is good to hear, I don't know, Milo" she responded while scanning his shoulder. It was heavily bruised, but things could have been worse. "There was a big explosion, and we are not safe yet. Milo, I will carry you. Thomas, stay to my right side." With Milo in her arms and Thomas to her right, Ione rose to scan the best way out of this turmoil.

 

[Alvaris]

❝ Calistar Rouge. ❞​

Nothing prepares you for the end.​

Cal’s hand warmed as blood coated them a deep shade of crimson. He felt paralyzed, but desperate to save his father. He was familiar with this feeling. Growing up, he worked tirelessly to remove this state of being from within himself. The commitment he made about never feeling powerless slipped away, like his father was doing before him. Each moment Cal spent trapped in himself was one he sat oblivious to his father’s shallow breathing.

Despite the sounds around him, feet hitting the pavement, the shrill calls for family members, and the lingering ringing from the explosion, he saw no one. He registered no one. Not even the thought of Nadine injured could rouse him from this paralytic state. What if she were lying on the ground? Would he freeze like a fool? Like he was now? If he saw her, what could he do? What would he do?

His eyes glued to the blood seeping between his fingers. He’d never witness so much blood, he’d never touched so much blood. No white peeked through the red, as though his father’s shirt were always this colour.

A muffled voice spoke nearby.

The speech jumbled, nearly incoherent until the final word.

“Alive,” the man said ripping his jacket off before pressing it against Cal’s father’s chest.

Cal should have done that. Slowly, he looked up. The blonde before him spoke again, his tattered undershirt reflecting the events of today. It took Cal a moment longer to understand the words spoken, the man’s thick accent delayed Cal’s ability to process.

Quickly this time, he pressed the jacket against his father’s wound. Sister? Why was this man helping him? No one freely helped anyone, not without a price – not even for situations as dire as the one Cal and his father found themselves in.

“Yes. Please. Help,” Cal said, the weakness in his tone causing a pit of rage to stir in his chest. “I’ll help you find your sister.” The promise swirled with doubt. No. He would keep it. He would. Cal would keep that promise.

A distance away he heard the sirens blaring, ricocheting off the buildings, but moving ever closer. If his father had any chance of surviving, they needed to move him out of the square where the EMT’s could treat him. Cal pointed toward the direction several stragglers were running. “If we get him out, he can be treated,” Cal said, his mind moving faster than his mouth could contend with.


Interaction(s): Dimtri apolla

Spoiler: Mobile Friendly

Cal’s hand warmed as blood coated them a deep shade of crimson. He felt paralyzed, but desperate to save his father. He was familiar with this feeling. Growing up, he worked tirelessly to remove this state of being from within himself. The commitment he made about never feeling powerless slipped away, like his father was doing before him. Each moment Cal spent trapped in himself was one he sat oblivious to his father’s shallow breathing.

Despite the sounds around him, feet hitting the pavement, the shrill calls for family members, and the lingering ringing from the explosion, he saw no one. He registered no one. Not even the thought of Nadine injured could rouse him from this paralytic state. What if she were lying on the ground? Would he freeze like a fool? Like he was now? If he saw her, what could he do? What would he do?

His eyes glued to the blood seeping between his fingers. He’d never witness so much blood, he’d never touched so much blood. No white peeked through the red, as though his father’s shirt were always this colour.

A muffled voice spoke nearby.

The speech jumbled, nearly incoherent until the final word.

“Alive,” the man said ripping his jacket off before pressing it against Cal’s father’s chest.

Cal should have done that. Slowly, he looked up. The blonde before him spoke again, his tattered undershirt reflecting the events of today. It took Cal a moment longer to understand the words spoken, the man’s thick accent delayed Cal’s ability to process.

Quickly this time, he pressed the jacket against his father’s wound. Sister? Why was this man helping him? No one freely helped anyone, not without a price – not even for situations as dire as the one Cal and his father found themselves in.

“Yes. Please. Help,” Cal said, the weakness in his tone causing a pit of rage to stir in his chest. “I’ll help you find your sister.” The promise swirled with doubt. No. He would keep it. He would. Cal would keep that promise.

A distance away he heard the sirens blaring, ricocheting off the buildings, but moving ever closer. If his father had any chance of surviving, they needed to move him out of the square where the EMT’s could treat him. Cal pointed toward the direction several stragglers were running. “If we get him out, he can be treated,” Cal said, his mind moving faster than his mouth could contend with.

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