ya gotta wanna be a battering ram

[headandhand]

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.

Comments

[cadiastands]

OOC: I'll match format if you prefer brackets.

The Serious Prompt (explosion!)

Her newly discovered taste for funnel cake notwithstanding, Dualis Days is not having the desired effect on Mira. The Arbiters, or whatever they call their law enforcement here, are barely represented, the inadequate scattering of personnel she's picked out among the throng all in shirtsleeves at that, and not a single riot shield or gas grenade among them. It's shockingly negligent, making her tense and unhappy even before she reaches Central Square Park and almost turns on her heel to go back to the dormitory. The park is a tailor-made killzone--a handful of snipers on the surrounding rooftops could pick off anyone they liked, or a well-placed artillery volley could account for the entire crowd gathered on and around the stage...and yet everyone is relaxed. Smiling. Laughing. Taking pict-caps and paying no attention to their surroundings.

When you spend your life waiting for the other shoe to drop, people who don't think there is another shoe are equal parts baffling and infuriating, and Mira's broadcasting enough of her unease that others waiting to hear the mayor are leaving her more space than most. Fine by her. She hangs back just outside the park on the opposite side from the parade route--and without a single tank or even an infantry formation in dress uniforms, what kind of sad parade is it anyway? Keeping her options open in case she has to run, she's picked a street corner beneath an awning that blocks sight lines from all the imaginary snipers with which her paranoia has populated the surrounding buildings. The screens are good enough for a speech she doesn't really care about, anyway.

Then the stage explodes and Mira doesn't have anyone to address with the general sense of "I told you so" she's feeling, because all the civilians are running and screaming and not paying any more attention to their surroundings than they were before. She drops into cover behind a planter, scanning for the hostiles she fully expects and who don't appear. After a minute or two, when no one near the site of the explosion falls from gunfire or subsequent explosions, Mira decides the risk is acceptable and abandons her relatively safe spot to run towards ground zero. Dualis citizens might not recognize the Imperium yet, but they're still human--well, a lot of them are--and the wounded will need help.

She vaults the planter, sprints across the street, and is over the decorative fencing edging one section of the park in seconds, avoiding the press of bodies at the gate. When her boots start crunching on bits of what used to be the stage, she slows to a walk, not wanting to turn an ankle, and surveys the damage, a tall woman in military fatigues looking around her with narrowed eyes.

"Incompetent idiots. Whoever planned this ought to be shot."

She means the mayor's staff, but if it's any consolation, she thinks the bombers should be shot, too.

The Funny Prompt (midway games!)

"Oh, sorry, you missed those first two," the man running the shooting gallery tells her in what's a reasonably good facsimile of sympathy, of which Mira wants none.

"Because the gun is mis-sighted." Her tone would immediately set a civilian apologizing where she's from, but just gets a shrug from the carnie, helping her mood not at all.

"That's what they all say, lady." The sympathy is becoming harder to detect, but he unknowingly defuses the oncoming argument when he continues, "you wanna prove it with another round?"

"Yes." Someone should probably explain upselling to Mira eventually, but this time it's a matter of honor.

"You're on," he says amicably, and steps aside as the row of digitally-generated rubber ducks on the projection screen float back into view.

The gun's a training weapon--though she doesn't see what cartoon birds have to do with target practice--and lacks the reassuring kick of a bolt pistol, but it's still a gun. Now that Mira knows the sights are off, and more importantly, just how they're off, she can hit anything in range...and proceeds to do so. In less than ten seconds, all ten simulated ducks have exploded into simulated confetti amidst simulated cheers, and Mira sets the light gun down with a contemptuous sniff.

"Um," says the man in the booth as he looks from her only slightly smug expression to the row of prizes hanging above the screen. "Do you want the unicorn or the elephant?"

Midway Games

[aleifr]

Aleifr had been browsing the games on the midway - lingering alongside each booth long enough to learn the rules before moving on - when his ear had pricked up at the familiar voice.

Nero. Annoyed, too.

He followed the sound of the brief argument, curious as to what sort of fool had decided to get on her nerves, until he arrived at the ...

He's not sure what it is she's doing, really. She'd called it 'shooting' but the little thing in her hand didn't look like a bow. Didn't fire like a bow either. All she did was lift it up and point it towards the little birds fluttering around the other end of the booth. He finger flexed and one of the birds popped into a swarm of multi-colored motes of light.

Her finger flexed nine more times, and all nine of the remaining little birds disintegrated similarly. It looked easy to her, natural as breathing, and judging by the face of the man running the stand, her aptitude for it came as a bit of a surprise.

Whenever she turns around after making her selection, she'll find Aleifr looking on, leaning against a nearby lightpost with his arms folded across his chest. He looks ... impressed. Intrigued. Little bit of both, really.

"Well done."

[cadiastands]

This just in: Mira doesn't know what a unicorn or an elephant is.

"Unicorn," she says without looking, earning herself a surprised blink from the carnie and a pink plush horse with a purple mane and tail and a gold lamé horn on its forehead. It's the size of a toddler, which is coincidentally about the oldest she could have been and still appreciated her prize, but like hell is she backing down now. Mira tucks the ludicrous horse under her arm and turns from the booth to see she has an audience.

"I should hope so," she says, responding to the compliment with a chuckle. "My small arms instructor would have my hide if I'd missed at that range."

[aleifr]

It's alright. He doesn't either.

"You use them back home, then?" He nods towards the light gun on the booth's countertop.

It was a rhetorical question. She was obviously familiar with the thing, and he wanted to know what the hell it was.

[cadiastands]

"The pistol?" Mira says, following his gaze, surprised until she remembers he's feral. His Gothic is so good it's easy to forget. "Yes. It's standard equipment for officers."

Her right hand reflexively moves to rest on the butt of her own, but it didn't arrive with her and she's removed the empty holster--she doesn't think anyone's likely to ding her for being out of uniform in the near future. She hooks her thumb into her belt instead.

[aleifr]

"Pistol." He echoes, trying out the unfamiliar word as he walks past her and picks up the light gun. He turns it back and forth, inspecting it as best he can given the little cord tying it to the counter.

Aleifr glances at her over his shoulder. "How's it work?"

He isn't paying much attention to the guy running the booth. Doesn't know him, but he knows Mira - at least well enough to get the sense that she knows what she's talking about.

[cadiastands]

In what should come as a surprise to no one, the man in charge of the shooting gallery proves entirely uninterested in picking a fight with a seven-foot Viking covered in tribal tattoos or with the cranky woman who can out-aim a slightly rigged carnival game, and he finds something very absorbing to do with the more minor prize inventory on one side of the booth.

"It's...hmm." Needing to explain the function of a gun is a surreal experience for a Cadian. It's as fundamental a part of her understanding of the universe as gravity or the Eye of Terror. Mira sets down her unicorn and reaches out to settle the toy gun into Aleifr's hand properly. "When you squeeze the trigger," she taps the component in question, "it causes something to fly out of the muzzle," another tap, "and into whatever you're aiming at. It's like a bow, but easier to use."

[aleifr]

Aleifr allows her to adjust his hands, briefly glancing up to ensure he's doing it right before following along with her brief lesson.

Once she finishes, he looks up again. She's got his attention so far and he's very keen to familiarize himself with this thing, but he does have one more pressing question.

"What's it shoot?"

Because he didn't see any projectile fly out of the muzzle when she was shooting at the little ducks.

[cadiastands]

"This one's a training weapon, so just light," Mira says, not realizing that if she has barely any idea what infrared is, Aleifr has no chance. "Real guns shoot bullets, or--" She stops short when she does realize that lasers and bolter rounds are going to take a lot of explanation. "Let's stick to bullets for the moment."

Midway Games

[skyward_eyes]

"Go for the elephant. Their ears are delicious."

Games of chance like this? Not at all Nida's speed. One, it gives away too much competence and skill if it is in fact something you're good enough at to overcome whatever little con the people have going on here. Two, it's more effective to con a person than a game, because they are weighted rather precisely. Three, he'd much rather, you know, not be here at all after those explosions. And to think he'd liked this nice Edwardian-Era village less than this place. Still, he was searching for the man he'd been separated from not long after getting some snacks and had seen the woman giving grief to the carnie, and paused to watch the outcome. And frankly?

He was impressed. That dinky of a gun, clearly set up to make sure it wasn't going to be a good shot, and after only a single round of failing, she had a perfect score? Interesting. Of course he was going to rubberneck just a little. And then there's the question, so he had to pipe up. Mostly because he could still taste that lovely elephant ear he'd just eaten and frankly, he had no idea what an elephant was. If he could prompt her to get that, he'd at least have an image to base on.

"Or, you know, I've seen people play these games and by winning high multiple times, getting bigger and better prizes. You might consider making this vendor feel worse for cheating you by taking him for something a bit more costly."

What? He's helping.

[cadiastands]

"Fine, elephant it is."

Given that Mira has no idea what either a unicorn or an elephant is, Nida's reasoning strikes her as being as good as any. She's going to be surprised if she ever sees a real elephant and discovers it's not pale blue and fuzzy, though she realizes the t-shirt featuring a cartoon of a skateboarding elephant in sunglasses and a backwards ball cap with the caption 'EleFUN!' is probably artistic license. The creature does seem to have large enough ears to sustain a market in serving them as snacks, at least.

"The issue's settled, and I can't say I find the idea of lugging around an even bigger toy appealing." Turning to face Nida, Mira tucks the one in question beneath her arm. "I don't believe we've been introduced," she adds, and waits for him to remedy that. He started the conversation, after all.

[skyward_eyes]

Huh, that's an elephant? Strange. Frankly, he has to assume that is a cartoon, but he still doesn't like the look of it. Looks like it could stomp on things. Or run them over? Weird. Then he considers the woman with it and oh dear, now isn't that a firm implication if he's ever heard one. A quick look over and he worries that his previous conclusion is correct. Very good at what she did. Probably military trained, or at least a SUPER serious hobbyist. As dangerous as Natasha Romanov had been. Not his favorite sort. And him unarmed.

He smiles and does not offer his hand to shake.

"Because I've failed at my abilities as a gentleman. Nida Nomura, of a planet that me and my friend have chosen to call Hyne. Magic, Sorceresses, monsters. Oh, mind if I ask really quick if wherever you're from has dragons? I've got an old bet running."

[cadiastands]

She has a double-headed eagle insignia on one breast of her khaki tunic. It's very dystopian-future-does-Prussia, so military would a safe bet.

For her part, Mira doesn't even pretend not to be looking her new acquaintance over from head to toe, not that she gets much beyond the fact that any weapon he might be carrying is very well concealed. And he's a civilian. Surrounded by civilians.

She raises an eyebrow at Nida 'choosing' to call his planet something, then stiffens at 'sorceresses,' her expression hardening. He looks untainted, and any sorcerer still sane enough for this conversation wouldn't go about casually mentioning the fact. "Then you had a fortunate escape, it seems," she says, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Second Lieutenant Miranda Nero, 203rd Cadian regiment. We have no dragons, but other worlds do."

[skyward_eyes]

“Other worlds works. Still nets me points,” Nida shrugs off.

Frankly, Nida might be pleased to know he’d been taken for civilian. No bigger compliment to a mercenary who was supposed to be good at spying. Better yet, nothing better for a guy who has already chosen to retire from that at the cushy age of twenty-one. Civilian is the goal and if he isn’t radiating trained soldier after the last few days he is glad.

“Fortunate escape, Lieutenant? On the Sorceress front? Hyne above are you ever right. Worst months of my life. Quite handy with a gun, I see. Gotta admit, I’m massively impressed. I know one sniper and he would have had trouble matching that performance.”

Unless he wanted to impress a lady. Then Irvine would likely bring the A game.

[cadiastands]

Mira relaxes after Nida reveals that he shares her opinion on magic, or at least when she thinks that's what he's doing. She's good at a lot of things, but detecting subterfuge doesn't rank among them. Teasing out subtler threats is the Inquisition's business--she's trained to fight the visible, heavily armed kind.

"He can't be a very good sniper." Everyone likes a compliment, but Mira's expression shades over into the skeptical one of a person who suspects she's being damned with faint praise. At that range, any Cadian old enough to see over the counter of the booth ought to be able to hit a few moving targets. "Let me guess, PDF?" She pauses, then makes allowances for Nida's obvious civilian-ness. "Planetary Defense Force?"

Mira sounds uncannily like a manager who's just been confused for a part-time cashier. PDFs don't have the best reputation--they're almost always the soldiers who weren't good enough to levy for the Imperial Guard.

[skyward_eyes]

“Not by a long shot. Former SeeD. Which will mean nothing at all to you I expect, if you bounce around planets.”

But he is okay with that. Most people don’t take ‘mercenary’ too well. Or child soldiers. He has gotten used to that fact and edits his discussions of things to compensate. And he takes no offense to her evaluation of Irvine. Instead he shrugs and looks toward another game. He really needs to win his guy a prize.

“Military society for you?”

[cadiastands]

Child soldiers would be the one thing she would take well.

"I'm Cadian," Mira says, puzzled, like that should explain everything. She follows Nida's gaze to see what's drawing his attention, just in case it proves to be dangerous to something besides her composure.

Explosion! (cw: penetrative injury)

[silentnarration]

Squall looks like he was close to the blast with the way his hair is messier than usual and the dirt covering him. He's mostly steadied himself from still having a piece of wooden stage stabbing him (well hidden under his shirt with only a hint of blood and even that's covered by his black leather jacket). Though he's still wobbly and it definitely hurts to make any sudden moves.

He's rising after the unconscious man he's tending to is carried off and he turns to regard this stranger. It's hard to say what's common fashion around here with how different everything is but she feels as out of place as he is.

"They might take you up on that," he says with an exhale. "Are you here to help?"

Someone who's able bodied will be useful right now.

[cadiastands]

Everyone here has terrible taste and doesn't accessorize with winged skulls and heraldic eagles, so yeah, Mira and her uniform stand out a bit even though she's left the armored pieces back at the dorms.

"If I'm needed." She nods at the teenager. If he were Cadian, she'd say he was about the right age to be wrapping up his Whiteshield years and getting his permanent assignment. Of course, his commanders would have something to say about that hair.

"Have the Arbites assigned an incident commander yet?" she asks, looking around the scene for the officer she expects to find directing the cleanup.

OOC: If you don't want to mess with linguistic confusion, the translation can just render "Arbites" as "police," since that's what it means.

[silentnarration]

Squall's clothes is 'modern' enough to fit in but it's not as sleek as everything else. He's decidedly not showing any signs of mods that are common either.

He idly runs his hand through his hair to straighten it out while looking around. A smattering of personnel and civilians are converging on the stage where the mayor was. And he's starting to see the beginnings of a barricade further out from the stage being set up to keep civilians out.

"Arbites?" Incident commander is a good context clue though so he responds to that while pointing to the people blocking off ground zero. "Maybe. They had security but didn't look like they were prepared for an attack like this. They're probably scrambling a response team."

[cadiastands]

"Interior Guard? Tribunes? Constables?" She tries the first few synonyms she can think of as she looks where Squall is pointing. Every planet calls their local law enforcement something different and it gets tedious.

"Throne on Earth, who plans a public speech and doesn't consider it might be attacked?" Mira grumbles to no one. "They're lucky no one positioned snipers."

[silentnarration]

"Law enforcement?" Usually the army in the bigger countries in Squall's world. Police aren't quite a thing. He frowns at her grumbling. She isn't wrong, really.

"That AI kept insisting it was peaceful. Maybe they actually believed it, or this is all an act. The bomb's..." he looks at the stage. "Small. They're making a statement. Kill the mayor, get everyone's attention."

These are all assumptions anyway. With the way civilians are being shooed off the broken stage, he has a feeling things are going to get covered up.

[cadiastands]

"You can't trust an AI," Mira says, lip curled in disgust. There might not be anything she can do about it, but she doesn't believe a word the cursed thing has said. "But I agree with you about the purpose. No need for a large explosion when the morale effect from a small one will do."

[silentnarration]

"Why not? Do you have AI in your world?" He's never seen AI like the Head. While he's not entirely comfortable with programmed intelligence, he's curious what would drive that much disgust from Mira.

He's starting to feel antsy with the increasing number of law enforcement showing up though. He turns slightly, looking at Mira with a slight beckon of his head. Does she want to move somewhere else?

[cadiastands]

"I should hope not," Mira says, not quite understanding the question. The Imperium is fully capable of creating AI. It's just thoroughly illegal. "If we had, the Mechanicus or the Inquisition would destroy them."

Lovely place, the Imperium of Man.

Mira glances around the scene. It's not as bad as she'd feared--the charge hadn't fragmented the wood of stage in such a way as to cause massive casualties like an artillery shell would have, and the people with severe injuries are already being seen to. Without a medi-pack she herself is no more use than anyone else with first aid training, so she meets Squall's gaze and nods. Might as well stay out of the way.