Everything is normal today during the early hours of the morning. There's really no hint, no way of knowing, no anything that could indicate that CERES -- and thus Cerealia -- is about to irrevocably change. There would be birds chirping, if there were birds, but since there aren't any, there's just the constant sounds of a city in motion, humming with technology even that early in the morning.
And then, regardless of where you are or what you're doing or how early it is, everyone's CereVices flicker on to show a perhaps-familiar, perhaps-unfamiliar face.
Bellona Recreare, the business owner of Cerealia and CEO of CERES, stares at everyone with a flat, cold look. She doesn't seem happy.
(When is she ever?)  It has come to my attention that there has been industrial espionage and corporate sabotage in CERES' personnel. Such a thing will not be tolerated.
Due to this, Mosley's employment with CERES has been terminated. Please now direct any public relations questions to 1-800-7322934844444.
Good day.
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PHASE I [ 6 00 ] Bright and early, not long after that sudden announcement by Bellona, you may decide to go back to sleep, or you may decide to get up and go about your day (or you may not have woken up at all).
Either way, it doesn't matter.
Because your apartment is broken.
The entire apartment. The door is locked shut (and that sucker is solid metal so it might be time to try a window), the HOLO(gm) is flickering wildly between settings, and the blender is out for your blood. Anything technological in any way (that is CERES-brand or has been tampered with by CERES) will be malfunctioning in a way that comes across as... oddly malicious.
Now's a bad time for the late sleepers to realize that the beds, too, have auto-control tech functionality. Hope you enjoy that electroshock wake up call, or the fact that the bed could fling you totally across the room.
PHASE II [ 1000 ] The rest of the city isn't faring so well either.
The trains are completely out of commission; even if the doors do open, it's probably not a good idea to get on. If you do, it looks like the doors will slam shut behind you, and the train will go hurtling forward at dangerous speeds with sudden stops. Many of the shops can't be accessed at all, automated doors refusing to open, and worst of all, every single last piece of tech in Cerealia now seems to have the sole goal of Making Your Life Hard.
The Pleasure District is flooded now that the spas are broken, but hey -- at least the perfume ensures that water smells good, and it's pretty warm. That's good, right? Maybe go for a nice swim.
The CERES police bots are out of control, chasing people down to arrest them for imagined crimes (What do you mean you aren't a closet voyeur?), and heaven forbid you're around any of the auto shops when everything goes totally wrong. The auto-drive feature in many of CERES's cars seem to be a little... finicky today. It doesn't seem like anywhere in the city is exempt from this. Good luck.
And towards the end of the second day of this insanity, the train, with whatever unfortunate passengers are on it, will derail. It crashes into part of the shopping district, leveling buildings and leaving the wrecked overturn husk of a train resting there uselessly.
Suddenly, things don't seem so harmless anymore.
PHASE III [ 1100 ] Of course... you're CERES-owned too.
Your code, rather, is made and owned by CERES, and it's inevitable with the craziness going on that it would soon affect everyone's code as well. So as the hour approaches noon, a few unlucky souls may start to notice that things are just Not Quite Right with them. Their powers may be on the fritz, functioning entirely wrong or not at all, or even stranger -- fire powers turning into water, ice into flame, electricity brings mud. Your clothing might suddenly change when your coding glitches, or it might be gone entirely. You may suddenly have an uncontrollable urge to start singing, or frolicking. You may suddenly be wildly in love with the first person (or robot or mirror) that you see, unable to stop it until the odd glitching wears off.
And then, just like that, you're back to normal, if a bit more tired than before. How troublesome.
There are also moments where what appears to be an ID number appears on the back of your neck in glowing light blue numbers. Each of these codes is a 7 digit number, with an E at the front of the number. It appears that the longer you've been in Cerealia, the lower the number is -- like a brand of some sort. You may not be able to see it yourself with it on the back of your neck like that, but everyone else sure can.
PHASE IV [ 1645 ] And, just like that, on the last day of this madness, the city goes dark. The lights cut out. The technology shuts off. Every last robot in Cerealia is completely and totally down, and can no longer be booted up. Even when the lights come back on in a few hours... the robots remain dead.
Cerealia's a lot harder to function in without those handy dandy robots running the place. It's also a lot more desolate, and rather quiet.
Slowly but surely, the rest of the technology will boot itself back up towards the end of the last day. But the robots remain broken, and cannot be fixed. In fact, opening them up will reveal that nothing's wrong with them at all... they just won't wake up.
As time ticks by, it doesn't look like Bellona will address anything on the network about the events and all people are left to do now is... learn how to function again. Without any help.
BONUS [ ???? ] If you were a stupid brave enough soul to log into ViViD during this time (or were unfortunately glitched there, which could happen), you will find that ViViD is in... safe mode. It's struggling to boot up, and even when you finally enter, you'll find yourself wandering through skeleton levels of half-completed scenery and incomplete quests. There are readings in the corner of each level that can be seen now, one about Energy Gain and one about Energy Loss, and just as the gain goes up the longer you are there, the loss, too, rises. At first, it's fascinating, and it isn't particularly dangerous... but then it becomes clear that you can't actually log out.
You can't exit Safe Mode at all.
Slowly, it feels as though you can breathe less and less, that the empty walls of the level are closing in on you... and there's nothing you can do. Unless you are or find a particularly genius hacker and they can access the source code and find the exit buried inside that code within the next few minutes... there's nothing to be done.
And then everything goes dark.
You'll wake up the next IC day, with those same energy readings marked on your wrist like some sort of bright blue digital tattoo. When you wake in the mornings, it will read at 100% and slowly go down during the course of the day until you sleep. It will fade after three IC days.
And from now on, ViViD always has those energy levels in the corner, even when it's fixed. They always seem to be recording you, every time you're in ViViD. Strange.
[ Remember to apply proper warnings on threads with sensitive or inappropriate material and do let a mod know if your thread careens off into maiming or canoodling so we can lock the log. ] |
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One, no one should have to suffer and bleed out in order to die and then be brought back. Two...the malfunctioning city leads him to believe that resurrection itself would also fail. Death might not be temporary, today.
With his hands so occupied, there's not much he can do to make himself understood, except to do something fairly unpleasant. Cao Pi lifts his bloodstained hand from Koumei's chest, shifts to bring his other arm close enough to reach his solid white bracer, and then traces a character in Mei's blood]
载
[he remembers their discussion over tea, and interpreting the same characters for Koumei's name different ways. Grammar is not even necessary, just that one character for "to carry" with a gesture pointing to Mei. Can he carry you somewhere?]
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...Where ever, I suppose, [he replied, realizing with an oddly sharp clarity that he couldn't let his innocent room mates, Nakigitsune and Kogitsunemaru, see him in such a state.]
Perhaps a healer? The Company fixed this before they brought me here, somehow.
[And, even then, there had been an annoying ache in his ribs that lingered for weeks. An unsightly scar was emblazoned across his chest as well, although surely there wouldn't be one if he had indeed died.
It was only in recalling the powers-that-be in this city that an annoying puzzle piece settled into place in the midst of his disjointed thinking. The piece was title that he was given upon arrival:
Exiled Prince.
...Maybe that 'mistake' had been wholly intentional.]
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At least his message also serves as a warning, so that Koumei isn't jostled when he gets picked up. The princess-carry it is, so Zihuan curls his other arm under Mei's knees and tucks him securely against his armored chest.]
Duì bu qǐ... [it's a hastily muttered apology if this hurts, but then he's off, carrying Koumei close to him through the chaotic streets]
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The scar that he'd been hiding for the last few months was another clue. Just as the dead didn't bleed, they didn't scar either.]
...Every move in the battle was a distraction, [Koumei muttered, half to himself.] My brother was manipulated. That weapon wouldn't have even been on the battlefield without that man's hand in the background.
[The weapon that had been used to injure him was owned by a member of a rival party-- an alliance, lead by a man whose smile was as bright as the sun and whose wiles ran through the darkest of shadows. Such a man could never be trusted, and Koumei should have seen that before he sent his adopted brother to the leading country of that alliance.
But his adopted brother, who had cursed his fate and stained his soul black in the midst of this chaos, had somehow found his heart again. It was impossible to imagine....but, if a certain boy was involved...]
...I should have paid more attention, [Koumei murmured, allowing himself to relax. Cao Pi would note that the blood was starting to slow-- as if the effects of the various glitches in town were starting to wear off.
Perhaps, they had some time after all.]
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You speak as though you don't remember being here. I don't know what they did to you but it doesn't matter.
[he stumbles on an uneven spot on the sidewalk but stays upright, clutching Koumei tightly to him so he doesn't suffer for his misstep. The subsequent Chinese muttering is very clearly some creative swearing.]
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--I'm not someone who forgets things, [he said quietly.] A puzzle just makes more sense now.
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[that's good. He knows tacticians and their puzzles, knowledge is satisfaction. He meets that look with a faint smirk.]
I didn't think you were. Don't talk so much. Save your strength.
[The hospital is just ahead, but as they approach, Cao Pi is extremely wary of the robots milling around. If they're at all like the robot cops, they're not going to get help at all - quite the opposite. He has his swords, so he can fight, but he can't risk opening Koumei's wound doing so. What a rock and a hard place, here.]
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But now, thanks to the puzzle pieces that had fallen into place, Koumei was certain that he wasn't going to die just yet. Life might be tough for a while...but the word 'Exile' still carried a glimmer of hope in it.
The subtle whirr of motors on the edge of his hearing, and the shift in Cao Pi's breathing, was what clued Koumei into the fact that they had a problem. He could see the reflected lights from the hospital on the various windows around the street, but he knew from his hazy recollections of the more immediate past that robots were bad.
He lightly tapped Cao Pi on the arm once he understood the problem.]
Tea shop. Go there instead.
[It was his workplace, and he knew the layout of the surrounding area there quite well. The block it was situated on was always quiet, and odds were high that they would be more safe waiting things out there than standing around.]
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Several near-misses from driverless cars and malfunctioning vending machines later, there it is - abandoned, apparently. Hopefully the kitchen appliances won't misfire on them, the last thing they need is to be scalded or sliced or stirred. Cao Pi kicks the door open and immediately locates a comfy booth where Koumei can lay down.]
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The booths were clean. The building was blissfully quiet.
Koumei hissed out a breath as Cao Pi helped him settle down as comfortably as possible in one of the booths, but the sharp flare of pain quickly abated once everything was still. Slender and even weedy as he was, the amount of strain Cao Pi would feel later was up to debate. But, they both would need to do their laundry before everything was over.]
...There, [Koumei muttered, relaxing his head against one of the cushions. The adrenaline pumping through his veins now was starting to tire him, and his vision swam in his exhaustion, but a part of him knew that he needed to stay awake.
To do that, he needed to keep talking.]
I think things will work out all right. Something must be...how did they say it? 'Rebooting.'
[The word was totally foreign and strange to say, but it was the only thing that made sense. Already the bleeding from his wounds was slowing, although Koumei suspected he wouldn't be 'fully recovered' for a little while.
Time still played a part, after all. And time couldn't be rushed.]
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Giving Koumei a raised finger to let him know it'll be just a moment, Zihuan hunts around the trashed teahouse for things of use to them. Towels and washrags so he can finally clean the blood from his hands. A single unbroken glass, which he fills with fresh water and brings over to Mei. Snacks which haven't been crushed. A notepad and pen. Yes, that should all do. He rights a table and sets Pure Havoc on it, and then sits down at Koumei's head to brush his disheveled hair out of his eyes and help him drink some water.]
Here. Shuǐ.
[maybe he'll reboot soon, too, and then he won't be so frustrated, but he has the notepad now, so he can scribble characters and let Koumei know what he's thinking.]
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[The touch of Cao Pi's hand in his hair was an odd surprise, pulling Koumei out of the hazy half-sleep he had allowed himself to slip into while the other man searched the restaurant for one reason or another. The glass of water was yet another surprise, and Koumei felt his cheeks burning at being treated in such a way.
He knew it was necessary in their circumstances, but there was still a certain shame in knowing that you were the catalyst for taking down an entire army. Koumei had no idea if he could ever face the families of the fallen soldiers...
But, that was literally another realm to worry about. For now, Koumei needed to focus on the present.
Obediently sipping from the offered glass, he cast Cao Pi a look that explained the full depth of his flustered feelings about this situation. Despite that, he still managed to comport himself with a degree of grace.]
...Thank you, [he said, and he meant it.
It was rare that he had the opportunity to thank anyone, truly.]
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He leans over to check the bandages, to see if the flow of blood has been stemmed yet or if he needs to do more, murmuring absently to himself as if talking more would get at least a portion of the right words to come out.]
The story can wait until later, when you're stronger. Rest, for now. I will stand guard. [with a nod toward his swords] You'll need more help than I can give eventually, though.
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[Koumei chided softly, watching Cao Pi work. The flow of blood was thankfully stopped by now-- seems like the various glitches were starting to work through their cycle in this instance-- and Cao Pi would find that here wasn't much more to be done besides wait, and rest his own body as well.
Tired as he was, Koumei pointedly gestured toward an adjacent seat with an odd calm. Though his hand shook some from the effort, he seemed wholly unperturbed by the state of affairs.]
You should sit too. We will be okay for a while.
[The sounds of the commotion outside were more distant than the immediate block surrounding them, and was likely centered in the main square rather than on any of the side streets. Unless something changed in the tides, they had more than enough time to rest themselves.]
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Is there a reason you don't want to go home?
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Koumei quietly shook his head, not entirely certain how to respond.]
The foxes, [he said.] Nakigitsune and Kogitsunemaru both don't need to see this. They're....innocent.
[The sentiment might seem odd, given how both were blades of war and Kogi was far, far older than he looked, but their experiences weren't fully colored by human issues.
They might not understand the full scope of the problem-- and, they might be unnecessarily worried or frightened.]
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If you say so. They might understand, but who am I to argue?
[he can't tell how much of his speech is righting itself, but he can't help but ask, now that they're settled and he has time to just talk.]
How do you feel?
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Koumei shrugged-- for both questions.]
Tired, [he said simply.] I don't want to move...but I think things will be okay.
...And please don't misunderstand. Some of those swords, though they're old, have never truly seen a proper battle before meeting their master. That's part of what makes them innocent.
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What, ceremonial bǎo jiàn? I didn't realize. [it's enough of an explanation that he feels no need to contradict.] If it gets to be nightfall, and nothing changes, you may stay with me.
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...You have my thanks, [Koumei murmured, and he meant it. There was little he could do in that moment but focus on getting back on his feet as soon as he could; anything that allowed him to fulfill his solemn promise of protection to Kogi and all of the residents of their small apartment was more than welcome.
He would find a way to make it up to Cao Pi, somehow. But, for now, he was just glad to have the man by his side.]
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Don't mind him, Mei, he's just going to idly recite poetry while you rest, keeping his voice low and soothing so it doesn't carry outside. More than half of it is understandable, but the seven-stanza format he's so famous for is even more clear when he's speaking fully in Chinese. At least he's not breaking into song or anything, so be grateful for that. Poetry passes the time nicely.]
...Kongming? Are you still awake?
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It was a balance that was necessary, and one that had worked for a great number of years.
Though he had allowed himself to drift, Cao Pi's idle tones kept him grounded enough that, when the question came, he was aware enough to respond.]
I am. Your talents are greater than I had imagined.
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Instead, he shifted and pressed an open hand against the haphazard dressings Cao Pi had made of his clothes, a curious gleam in his eyes.]
...It's better. Not perfect, but not far from how it was when I arrived.
My apologies for alarming you. I imagine Kouha is the only one who was more alarmed when he realized what had happened.
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[he's ready for the tale, now, if you're ready to tell it, Koumei]
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