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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no subject
[Darin grits his teeth and holds on. He's never really tested the upper limits of his strength before. All he wanted to do was lead a peaceful life. He wanted to blend in. Be normal.]
[His father's words ring out in his mind, however.]
['Someone with your strength has an obligation to do what's right. To lend your strength to those who have none. You may be bigger, faster, stronger, but that doesn't make you better. What makes you better, is your capacity to care...']
[He pushes back against the wall...he even manages to take a step forward and lift it higher. People needed his help...and now wasn't the time to worry about who might see or what they might think. He'll handle that later. But now? He had a job to do!]
no subject
Four minutes. Nothing. For a moment, he doesn't think he'll find anyone at all-- but then there's a weak moan from under a heap of rebar and Jonathan's eyes go wide, hyper-focused as he hauls away the debris.
Three minutes. He knows that he shouldn't move someone who's been severely injured, but he has no choice - so that glow from before suddenly grows blinding with his determination, and in moments their injuries are tended to. After a quick whisper of assurance, that they're going to be just fine, he heaves them over his shoulder.
Two minutes. He feels his calves burn with every step and his muscles scream in protest as he pushes off the shattered ground, but he's been through worse than this, and he won't give in. He has people to protect, people who can go home to their families at the end of the day, someone who has so much time left to do what they need to most. He won't let today steal that from this person.
He sets them down at a safe distance and shouts, already charging back.]
We're clear!
[One minute.]
What's the plan?!
no subject
I thought you would have thought of something while you were getting everyone clear...!
[WELP]
no subject
Jonathan Joestar is no ordinary person.
The north wind created the vikings.]
If we have no other options...so be it! Darin! If you cannot build it up, break it down! I can handle everything else!
[It's hardly his most elegant strategy, but it will get the job done.]
no subject
[A grin spreads across his features.]
Y'know, I'm not one for breaking but...!
[He pulls one arm back, coiling it like a piston ready to fire...and then drives it forward with all of his might. It sounds like a deafening cannon shot when it strikes the metal, a massive dent appearing in the side of the structure. As soon as his first punch connects, he retracts his other arm and lets fly.]
[And then another. And another. And another! And another!]
[His arms slowly become blurs as he hammers away, the metal and rebar and concrete breaking apart more and more as the wall starts to crumble above them.]
no subject
Uoooooooh!
[Hamon isn't meant to destroy things, sure, but Jonathan is a powerhouse who can do anything if his willpower demands it. His fists fly like bullets, smashing what was once a building into pieces away from any onlookers, roaring all the way. His arms are freight trains, pistoning in and out with unimaginable speed and tight muscles working at a frantic pace - so when one final slab of concrete topples down above Darin, he's quick enough to do something about it.]
Zoom Punch!
[A distinct pop rings out in the air as he smashes it in a single punch, arm extended beyond what looks comfortable or safe, and retracts it as the dust settles.
His knuckles are bleeding and there's a dull pain running from his arms and through the rest of his body, but they've done it.]
no subject
[Slowly, he looks around at the scene, then looks down to his own bloodies hands. They'll heal relatively quickly...but his hands were mostly smashed to a pulp.]
[Any other person would be screaming for an ambulance right now. Instead? He just turns to Jonathan...]
Heh...
Hahahahahaha...!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WE DID IT!! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!
no subject
We did, didn't we?
[It's a quieter than Darin's outburst of laughter, but there's no less joy contained within it. High spirits are infectious, and Jonathan can't help but pat Darin on the back and rope his arm around him with a boisterous laugh of his own.]
That was some fine work on your part! What a show!
[Actually, those hands might be healing even quicker than you think, because Jonathan's going to
kind of on purposesend some Hamon through Darin's arm and up through his hand.]no subject
[Darin weakly lifts his arm and gives Jonathan a light punch to the chest.]
We make a hell of a team, ah??