
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.
|
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 [ 10 00 ] 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 [ 11 00 ] 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 [ 16 45 ] 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. ] |
no subject
You got your magical robot gun?
[He knows that's going to piss Togami off, and says it teasingly.]
I've got a knife, but that's like the most useless thing I can even think of against robots . . . how do you kill a robot? I guess a bat would work pretty good, but I don't exactly carry those around in my pockets!
no subject
We could look for a bludgeoning weapon for you if you like. Enough force should suffice to break past its exterior and crush its hardware.
no subject
[Ha ha. He grins back at him, undeterred. He's so funny when he's like that (which is a lot of the time, so good thing Leon likes it).]
no subject
[ That's quite enough standing around and talking. He's going to start finding a suitable room for them to enter. ]
no subject
Through the door is a hallway with an open lobby at the other end, and a few other closed doors lining each side. Leon glances at Togami once they're in:]
Which way? Just grab the first room we can?
no subject
no subject
Ready? I dunno what's gonna come out!
no subject
Despite his relatively calm demeanor, this situation isn't exactly pleasant for him. It's uncomfortably reminiscent of the apartment complex at Towa City... But when they're entering an enclosed room, there's probably not much that can be hidden in there. They probably won't be overwhelmed by a swarm of robots, like happened that time. Probably. ]
no subject
Luckily, it's not a swarm of robots. There's only one that was in this room, a cleaning bot, and it doesn't even launch itself at them or anything; it's bumping crazily around the room, but it takes a good moment for its sensors to pick up that the two are even there in the doorway, which is plenty of head start to shoot it dead.]
no subject
Its fallen body is uncomfortably close to the doorway given that it's about to explode, so he tugs Leon back out of the way, standing back against the outside wall. ]
no subject
—We better get in there before somethin' hears that and comes after us.
no subject
Bring that in front of the door.
[ Physical labor is for other people. ]
no subject
Hey, why do I have to be the one to do it . . .
no subject
[ He sits in a chair, crossing his arms and legs, looking over at him expectantly. ] ...So? Are we ready to have a discussion?
no subject
About Mosley, right? I got somethin' else I wanna talk to you about too . . .
But I went to his office to see if there was any sign of him and there ain't. It's been totally cleared out. Last week I was on the phone with him and he was definitely acting like CERES was on their way for him and he didn't have much time left.
no subject
...Why were you on the phone with him?
no subject
[Sigh. He's still mad about it, but at least some of his roiling emotions here are being worried. Stupid fuckin' Mosley. He scrubs at his hair.]
I found out . . . Mosley's the one who brought us all here to this planet. Like, personally. But CERES tricked him into it with a contract.
no subject
[ There already has been evidence that Mosley is not strictly on the side of CERES, and may be a bit more sympathetic, but the idea of just accepting his word for it still rubs him the wrong way. ]
no subject
No, but he didn't have any reason to tell me it was his fault, either. We never would've known if he didn't say that, so why say it and then lie about why, right? I believe him!
I guess . . . what he actually said was that his world was destroyed just like ours. And CERES made a deal with him, that he'd work for them in exchange for them savin' his world, and he signed up 'cuz he didn't really get what he'd be doing when he did it. Then he was contracted to do it, and he didn't start to really get it until later, and then he decided he wanted out. But he couldn't get out without tipping CERES off and breaking the contract and all.
. . . But he knew he'd gone too far and they picked up on what he was doin'. They were totally closing in on him . . . he started talking about "his end" coming and stuff.
no subject
But... it could be genuine. [ That does sound like a legit scenario. ] So our worlds truly are... "destroyed"?
no subject
I dunno. I still totally don't buy that . . . but I don't think he was lyin'. I'd believe CERES lied to him though, y'know? They could lie to him as easy as they lie to us.
no subject
no subject
[He's frustrated, and while it's not exactly at Togami, he snips at him anyway, sulking.]
no subject
no subject
He was up to somethin'. He told me he was trying to do what he could before "his end" and that he didn't care anymore that he was bein' monitored and they were gonna come for him. I wonder if all this stuff goin' on right now is something he started?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)