What's that crashing sound that follows us around?

[exceptionalcrook]

WHO: Anyone, Duke
WHAT: Reactions to the executions/talking about next steps
WHERE: The dorms
WHEN: During/immediately following the executions
WARNINGS: Discussions of frickin' executions

[For people in the dorms to react to current events. Feel free to post your own starter!]

Comments

[exceptionalcrook]

Duke watches the broadcast with steely eyes, sitting sturdily in front of the television in the fourth-floor lounge as the city broadcasts the executions. Throughout the broadcast his eyes are fixed on the screen, his jaw set, his eyes narrowed. He needed to see what they were doing, how they treated the prisoners and how they decided to dispose of them.

It was gruesome, horrifying. If they had killed everyone as quickly as the beheaded man or even the nameless hanging victims it might have been somewhat merciful, but they didn't stick to the limits of humanity. They'd made one of them kill the other, for God's sake, and then made him suffer through a horrifying disease. Clearly the Head wasn't as adverse to that disease as it said.

Duke watches and stands, crouched over and holding his face. “Shit,” he murmured.

“What the hell are we going to do now?” He glances at the others around him. “I'm serious. What are we going to do?”

[notverycinematic]

"Fuck..." Dom's seen some shit in her life, let's be honest but that...that's just wrong. The wrongest kind of wrong. Like she knew this placed was fucked up, but...fuck. That's about the only thing she can say. Or think. For several long moments as she stares at the TV. The whole damn thing is over and she still stares. How the fuck are they so cavalier about this? How are the rest of them supposed to feel? Logically, she knows they don't give a fuck, but shit they still have to live here and pretend they're not fucking paranoid.

She doesn't know the guy, but he sounds about as distraught as she feels, and even though it takes her a bit to collect herself and find something to say. It's not that profound, but somehow, she kind of feels like that's most people right now.

"I don't have a fucking clue. You have any suggestions, I'm taking them."

[exceptionalcrook]

"You okay?" Duke asks, fully expecting the answer to be "no." No one could be okay after seeing that. He just wants to make sure she will be all right, not that he could blame her if she wasn't. Duke has bounced back from some horrifying deaths before as best he could, but nothing quite like this. He is used to pretending he's not paranoid, but that's not a skill anyone should have to learn.

"Not sure my ideas are that great right now." He's still kind of shocked. "But I have a couple of thoughts." He adds quietly, "The biggest one being Let's not get killed by the thought police."

[scathefires]

Jason might look nice and relaxed, sitting on the couch with arms folded across his chest and booted feet kicked up on the coffee table in front of him, but the deep scowl scrawled across his face says otherwise. He's furious, about two seconds from marching up to the Temple with a baseball bat and bashing every goddamn screen in, but - nah, that wouldn't do much, would it. He's not as well-versed in computers as some bat-nerds, but even he knows the screen is usually separate from the actual computer.

"Apparently, we're yelling really loudly and drawing attention to ourselves," he answers Duke, dryly.

[exceptionalcrook]

Duke gives Jason an odd look, as he wasn't aware his voice was raised. "I mean, if you think that'd help."

That Temple idea with the baseball bat is a little more where his mind is. Like Jason, Duke doesn't think it'd do any good, but it is something. There's that human instinct to fight back blindly, something they have to temper into careful attacks.

[sociallychallenged]

Hank's up at the fifth floor, staring at the happy aftermath of the executions with a grim expression. He might not have been at the meeting itself, but he was out during it. That's suspicious enough. He figures it's best if he leaves his job soon. That job that he so loved, that gave him purpose. Here it's twisted. And now, it's just too close to certain death.

Figured she'd try to go out like Joan of fucking Arc, he finds himself thinking bitterly as Marie dies. As she cries out for a revolution of, what, a building full of people? Out of a city.

Usually he's coming up with plans, he has dozens. But this time he's just got a piece of paper out, and in his own handwriting he's tendering his resignation from the Dualis Police Department.

Following the injuries recently sustained by my domestic partner, I find that I should focus my energies on his recovery. It's not as simple a process for androids as one might suspect-

He grimaces to himself, leaning forward on the couch, elbows on his knees.

"Do you know how they fuckin' found those fucking assholes?" He says, bitterly, angry at their stupidity, upset they went and got themselves killed. "Their masks. They found them, because of their dumbass masks. Turns out they were told to target them. Heard it at the station not long after they picked them up." He doesn't look up from his paper, he just looks angry.

[fuckregularpeople]

Jane watches, taking in every detail of the executions. She needs to -- whatever they're up against she needs to know, for the good of the other sixty-four. For Kay. So she watches the broadcast, her fist resting against her chin as tears gather in her eyes. She doesn't notice when they begin to fall, which is sometime around the first death. She just keeps blinking to keep her eyes clear, and breathes deeply, audibly, when it's over.

Once it's over she stands up slowly, breathing deeply, shutting her eyes. Her outline blurs.

Hammerhead punches the television set, shattering the screen and parts of the plastic frame.

"Stupid motherfuckers!" she spits, kicking at the toppled electronic frame. It shatters into smaller pieces, which doesn't seem to satisfy her. "FUCK it! It's good they're dead!"

[sociallychallenged]

He doesn't think it's good they're dead. He does, however, know better than to say that out loud in the dorms. And he is angry that thanks to all of the Heart's helpful shit, they're actually at an enormous disadvantage. Enhanced monitoring. A way to shut down the power grid closed off.

"I don't know what they expected when they decided to dress up like fucking Death Eaters."

He sits back scowling, tablet on his lap. That haggard fact just reeking of all the disapproval he can fucking muster. Stinking of it. "God I'm glad Heather didn't see this." Heather as she was, anyway. "Little girl shouldn't have to go through that once, very well twice."

[notspartacus]

Markus watched from the back wall, frown intense, arms crossed, calm but tense, ready for something to happen. He's not overly familiar with the organization the government is making an example of, but he knows these are not the actions of a civilized society. These are not the actions of a people who will listen to reason, who will respect requests of peace if they are implored, or who will stand down from non-violent demonstrations.

The Head wanted a war, and its servants would only respond to violence. It was their way. They would have to respond in kind.

"Then we don't wear masks." He moved toward the sofa, moving his hands to his sides. "But we have to do something. Have you been here long? What can you tell me?"

[sociallychallenged]

Something has been left out of conversation with Connor, and with Hank having avoided most of the Heart's attempts to gather people? He's been distracted.

But then there's fucking Markus, and he's torn from a visceral gut reaction to what he's seeing on the screen to an actually verbalized, "What the fuck?" that he can't keep from spilling out of his godforsaken mouth.

Right.

He shifts to look back at the TV. Winces hard, and attempts the clumsiest reach.

The room is bugged. Whole dorm is bugged. Be careful.

[mrsarcastic003]

Tim watches the broadcast--of course he does. He can't miss it any more than anyone else can. He wishes he could say that he's surprised by this outcome, but he isn't. Even if he'd been the type to trust government, Jason's 'reprogramming' would have destroyed any trace of it.

And he definitely didn't start off with any measure of trust.

He doesn't react outwardly as the broadcast finishes, but he watches the entire thing without turning away. He wants to really see what the Head is capable of with citizens that vex it. It's brutal. Horrifying. And while the Head might have intended it as a deterrent to future dissidents, the only thing it makes Tim want to be is more cautious.

He glances over at Hank. "Masks do tend to have the effect of drawing fire." He shakes his head a little. "Of course, when you're in a hypervigilant police state, they're not nearly as much protection as they might otherwise be."

[sociallychallenged]

"Hey there, kid. Hell of a show, right?" He scoots over to give Tim a little more room.

"So um..." He stalls, turns the TV up a little, and hopes to god that Tim can sort out what he's thinking without him having to get too specific.

"So I always thought that the fucking Heart was a bunch of showboating assholes. I figured it'd put everyone in danger. Especially when they didn't care who they were asking along. But uh... turns out the Head likes his own performances, huh? Wanted everyone out on the street to see 'em. Did the same for the 'Dualis Days' week.

"Everyone outside, at quick access. You'd think a thing that's spent its whole life studying viruses would know what happens in a crowd. Last time I saw a bunch of people-" androids "-together, they spread a big flaw just by touching."

And saying the words, 'Wake up'.

His eyes slide over to Tim. A big public event, and the Head would have someone outside. Send a virus with a liberating code through them fast enough? They just need enough people working on a virus... you know. After they get that fucking code.

[sirentologist]

Tannis is Not Happy. In fact, she is fuming. To be honest, the broadcast isn't any worse than anything she's seen happen on Pandora or any of the other planets they'd been jumping between, but still. It's the principle of the thing. She's been tortured before--more than once--and the thought of it almost makes her sick. She survived--obviously--and occasionally she's even at peace with it, but that...that brings it all back. Beatings, and shocks, and broken bones...

Fortunately, or unfortunately, her anger mostly manifests as slightly-more agitated-than-usual pacing, without much of a different expression on her face. If only she had something to work on...something to distract her and take more of her focus off of what was happening.

God, it's like Jack is in charge. Except he'd have strung them up as a continued warning.

"They're bandits. They're worse than bandits. Is it even possible to be worse than bandits?"

[sociallychallenged]

"Oh yeah, it's possible."

Hank says as he comes up behind her, crossing his arms and scowling at the screen still. But he has an idea. The biggest shame of it being that he needs to ask for a hell of a lot of help with it. Tannis is one of the people at the top of his list.

"Turn up the feed."

He wants something to cover the sound of them talking. But even as he says it, the sound seems to go up on its own. He frowns at that, too. He forgets, sometimes, about the mod that he placed in his head. Maybe it'll make the whole 'quiet conversation with her more doable'.

[sirentologist]

"I don't think you know the bandits very well. But I suppose you don't have to." They're terrible and that's about the only quality they possess of any kind.

She raises an eyebrow as the volume turns itself up, but says nothing. She's been keeping her own abilities as close to secret as possible, but she's beginning to wonder how long she'll be able to manage it. She hasn't even shown her tattoos to more than one person and they're not even here anymore.

"Can I help you?"

[imaginary_wife]

"He accelerated it."

Doc Yewll says as she comes up to stand beside of Tannis.

"From what I heard it used to act slower than that. That was faster than the kids' lungs and blood could have possibly spread that. Nanotech? Something with how it was administered in the air? Awful way to die."

Even the pathogen she made required aggression to move.

Still with her wince, Doc looks over at Tannis. "Nice goggles."

[sirentologist]

Now is a bad time to mention that she would love a sample to study, isn't it? See, she can learn how to be a normal person. Most of the time. Some of the time. Okay, very rarely. But she's better than she used to be, and that's some kind of improvement.

"It's impossible to say without further investigation, though I suspect it was genetically engineered for more...dramatic effects."

She blinks for a moment, confused, though. That...that is not a compliment she's ever heard before.

"I beg your pardon?"

[mobilityassistance]

The best place for her to be, EDI concludes, is out of sight as much as possible. To that end, she mostly confines herself to her room, but while she can't truly be "bored," she does like a change of scenery, and she's probably making her roommate uncomfortable lurking in the room. Like she's probably making everyone else uncomfortable by existing. Even though there's nothing she can really do about it.

She at least keeps herself in one place, standing and gazing out a window into the streets, tying to determine what effect that broadcast has had on the people. It's hard for her to say, but it's certainly having an effect on the people dragged here against their will. Even she can tell how tense the atmosphere is in the dormitory and there are definitely a lot of somber faces and broken people.

Really, she can't blame them.

[blitzcheer]

Tidus hadn't been in the dorms when the executions were broadcast, but he doesn't miss them. They play on every screen across the city, and all that keeps him from viewing them is his own refusal to. He doesn't need to witness that carnage, those people and the last seconds of their lives, though the sounds of the burning fire and the screaming that takes forever to be engulfed is hard to block out.

So he arrives at the building in the same sombre mood at the rest of them, though not without an anger low in his belly, disgust on his tongue. He chews on it for most of his hurried walk through the dorm. Gut when he sees EDI, he slows, chin lifting, letting the bitterness go. Stands quietly, a little unsure at first, but--

"Hi."

It feels hollow out of his mouth, must sound it too. Lost.

[mobilityassistance]

Well, she hadn't been expecting that anyone would want to talk to her, and yet there is a slightly familiar voice behind her. She should have made herself harder to find but around here...well. She'll probably always be easy to locate. If only by the glares.

She's not really certain what to say, either. The last time they'd spoken, she'd been under the impression he was another one of the people who didn't like her. Which she was fine with, honestly, but it was just...odd.

So she just settles on something simple. And utterly neutral.

"Hello."

[silentnarration]

There's a slight dent on the shell of Squall's phone from how tightly he was holding it during the execution. He almost couldn't watch it the whole way, but he was glad he did. If nothing else for the knowledge that that plague still exists... and how fast it can kill. He tries not to think about their deaths or how real that future might be for him and everyone here.

The wall in his room suffers a beating later. It's later that night that he starts going door to door, knocking with a forced calm. He feels naked without his gunblade but he can't carry that around right now. There's a pen and a notebook in his other hand. And when the door opens, he tries his best to look friendly but he just looks more tense.

"I'm thinking about hosting a get-together party for everyone in the dorms, so I'm taking a survey."

He is trying desperately to convey with those sharp blue eyes that he's not taking no for an answer. In fact, he's about ready to push his way in to keep the door from closing.


((OOC: Squall is trying to get and spread some information:
a) who is/was living in the character's room and/or next door
b) if they know anything about what's going on
c) somehow blatantly hint that he wants to help them know what's going on.
d) get more help to do this because help he doesn't know how to be covert.

Feel free to hit me up at shirobiro or Shirochu#4072 on discord if you need to handwave or just talk out what gets found out. He'll be doing this until he screws up or gets caught out or stopped.))

[blitzcheer]

If it wasn't for the close-to-glaring that Squall was giving at the doorway, Tidus's raised brow would be staying that way from the moment he answered the knock. Instead it eases, if not entirely clearing away his confusion.

Nevertheless: "What do you wanna know? Party dates?"

Probably not, by the interactions he's had with the guy. ...then again, Squall probably would arrange a party looking so humourless.

[silentnarration]

Yep. Not at all suspicious for him.

"I thought we could do a remembrance thing. Do something for the people who went home. But I'll need their names."

He's trying. Very hard.

[ichoosefight]

Steph answers the door in pajamas, her hair as messy as if she just dragged herself out of bed for this. From the shadows under her eyes, she needs the rest. She hasn't really gotten any.

She just stares at him for a moment, trying to decide if she's hallucinating, dreaming, or just generally confused. She rubs at her eyes as her brain slowly but surely catches up.

"A party? Why do you need a survey for a party?"

She'll get there. Eventually.

Short tag of shortness

[sociallychallenged]

Hank takes a good look, and considering his promotion party? He gets it.

"What are you looking for?" He asks as Maggie sticks her head out by his leg.