dualislogs | ya gotta wanna be a battering ram

WHO: The entire dang city.
WHAT: Dualis Days, a week-long summer celebration.
WHERE: Central Square Park and the rest of the city.
WHEN: June 17-23.
WARNINGS: Terrorist violence, likely some blood and injuries. Please warn in individual threads!

June 17; Central Square Park.

Every year for as far back as anyone can remember, the start of summer is heralded by the week-long festival known as Dualis Days. This celebration officially kicks off at midday in the middle of Central Square Park with a commencement speech by the current mayor. This year marks Marcelina Dubanowski's third term as mayor of Dualis; she is an average-sized, middle-aged human-presenting woman with blonde hair styled in a short bob and a plastic, toothy smile that never seems to turn entirely off.

"Welcome, one and all!" she begins, with the practiced cadence of someone who is quite comfortable with public speaking. She invites all citizens, new and old, to spend the next week indulging in festivities in all districts of the city and getting to know their neighbors a little better. This is a joyous time of celebration, and the crowd responds with enthusiastic applause as the mayor finishes her speech and introduces this year's parade marshall, Peshtigo Tengfei.

Tengfei blows a whistle six times to signal the start of the parade - and this is where the celebration goes sideways.

A loud explosion tears through the air, and it's followed by panicked screams and the sharp screech of microphone feedback. A bomb has gone off at the platform where the mayor was standing, collapsing the wood and tearing it to splinters and dust. Chaos erupts in the gathered crowd, and as the people shift in all directions to get clear of any possible additional bombs, a loud siren cuts through the cacophony, calling attention to the sudden crackle of video feed present on all television screens throughout the city, including those set up in the park to broadcast the mayor's speech for those standing far from the stage. The picture is plain, a black background and bold white block letters filling the screen:

WAKE UP
WAKE UP
DON'T BELIEVE THE LIES

The final image is an anatomical graphic of a human heart, displayed for about three seconds, and then the feed goes black again.

Confused murmurs sweep through the crowd as citizens resume tending to the injured and evacuating the area until official first responders arrive.

June 17-23; aftermath around the city.

Dualis Days continues as scheduled, though Mayor Dubanowski is unable to enjoy the festival, as she is spending the week in the hospital recovering from her injuries. A team of Iterations guard her door - no visitors allowed - but the news media frequently report updates on her condition. Nothing to worry about, folks! Return to your celebrations, and don't mind the increased visible presence of the Hand as Iterations are stationed every few blocks throughout the city. It's only for your protection, after all.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Welcome to the aftermath of a traumatic event. David’s seen it many times, and been through it himself. A lot of people will need, and probably not seek, counseling after this. Him included. Doesn’t mean he didn’t intend to keep helping. Didn’t matter that he’d lost his coat or that there was other people’s blood on his body and a tiredness all around him. Seeing people alone, clearly lost in thought? That draws him. And the blonde young woman alone?

David moves to sit by here.

“You okay?” he asks, a soft ‘I’m just checking in’ tone in his voice. But there is also clear worry on his face. She doesn’t seem hurt herself. Physically.

Cissie isn't so dazed and distracted that she doesn't notice the young man approaching her, but she is tired enough to not want to move or stand up. She looks up at him and takes in his worried expression, and the blood he's wearing and the general air of exhaustion that she herself is feeling, and she offers a soft smile in return, nodding.

"I'm fine," she assures him. "I was helping with first aid. Are you okay? Do you need any stitches or bandages?"

The problem with helpful people being helping is that sometimes two helpful people run into each other and they get exchanges like this. Be the offer tells him she really is okay and he smiles faintly at her.

“Not my blood. Doctors tend to get a bit messy when at the scene of an attack like this. Par for the course.”

He absolutely looks young for a doctor, he is only twenty.

“And I meant more psychologically.”

Cissie nods, and gestures at her own bloodstained clothing, returning his smile with a wry one of her own. “Field medic. I hear you.”

She sighs a bit and shoves her hair back out of her face. “I’m fine,” she says, and mostly believes it. Even if she knew him, she might not admit how she was actually feeling, but she appreciates the concern anyway. “You know. As much as can be expected. I’m Cissie, by the way. Cissie King-Jones.”

“David Alleyne. Nice to meet you, Cassie, circumstances not withstanding. Glad to hear there were more qualified medics out there too. Technically I am more qualified as a trauma surgeon. And a shrink. Worried about mental health fallout.”

But she at least seems composed enough. And his legs are killing him. He has been at this what feels like an eternity. So he’s going to pretend he can spare a moment.

“Mind if I sit? I need to catch my breath.”

Her eyebrows rise when he mentions his qualifications, though her surprise may not be what he thinks. She's known her fair share of geniuses and speedsters who read entire libraries for fun and can retain the information after. His apparent age is only a small piece of her surprise.

She shakes her head and gestures at the grass next to her. "Go ahead. Trauma surgeon and shrink? That's a heck of a combination. And unfortunately pretty handy today. ...And the upcoming days, I guess."

“Among other things,” David agrees. Hacker, chef, fluent in a number of languages, and of course good in a fight. So many fewer things than he was before, and that is a relief. Oh, and he has all the knowledge of the Sorcerer Supreme, but that one he can’t do much with.

“It’s complicated, but yeah, they should be useful skills. I just hope no one expects me to do brain surgery without a proper OR and tools, though.”

Is he joking? Only in some ways. Infections in the brain are bad and surgery without the right tools would be probably fatal.

Cissie blinks, and glances at him to see if he's being serious. She smiles anyway, shaking her head. "Something tells me that this place seems like the kind of society that would insist on sterile environments for medical procedures. I mean, it's way more advanced technologically than where I'm from, or where I was before I got here, anyway."

“Perhaps,” David agrees, considering the place thoughtfully. In some ways this is better than home. In some ways... well, who knows. Time only will tell, and he guesses they have time.

Which in and of itself is worrying. David sighs and looks down at his hands briefly.

“All we can do is hope it’s enough.”

Cissie glances at him, frowning in confusion. "Enough?" she repeats. "Do you mean what we did today? Or the technology here? For the people who were hurt? I don't know that there's any way to guarantee people's safety and lives, no matter how technologically advanced you are. At least not where I'm from."

“There is never a way to guarantee safety,” David agrees and tries into think about all he’s seen of that. All he’s lived of that. No, his point had been more the physical recovery.

“Haven’t been here long enough to know how effective the medical system is here. This place seems too good to be true in some ways. Which could bite us in the form of terrible medical care.”

Cissie shrugs. She can't argue with him, but she doesn't necessarily agree completely. "That seems like a pretty pessimistic view of things," she says gently. "Besides, my money is on the technology being more of a potential issue than the medical care. I'm just hoping we don't have to make use of it ourselves too soon."

Pessimism is all he has to live by, Cissie. And he knows it sucks, but he's going to keep working what he's got.

"Oh, Technology is good for medical care. I'm talking more about HMOs and prescription costs. Especially with doctors rotating through once a year? Still..."

The chances are people will have to make use of it.

"In a pinch, if you need help, look me up. I'm not down for being a GP or anything, but in emergencies I'm a good enough doctor."

Cissie makes a face, considering what he says. She has to wonder about the rotation idea; there certainly seem to be more full time residents here than people like them, people who are used to the city and it's technology. It does bring up interesting questions, but she's not sure she has the mental energy to consider them all right now, given the day they've all had. She's exhausted, mentally and physically.

Still, she's not too tired to offer a grateful smile at his offer. "Thanks. I was a field medic in another life, so--you know. If you ever need a hand, I'm happy to help when I can."

"Not-quite-medical-professionals of the world, unite," David teases, chuckling and shaking his head. Yeah, he gets you Cissie. He really gets you.

Not that he's going to ask what 'in another life' meant. They all have weight like that here, don't they? He has to suspect so, or why would The Head bring them here?

Cissie tips an imaginary hat, smiling in return. "You said it. It's nice to meet you. I'm sure we'll see each other around."

ya gotta wanna be a battering ram

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