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officialnotice) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
intothepines2017-05-14 02:40 pm
officialnotice) wrote in intothepines2017-05-14 02:40 pm
(may event) sudden recall
Hello, dearest Pinecones, and welcome to our May event! This month's happening is a little more... psychological than investigatory, but it should still provide plenty for characters to think about and discuss nervously amongst themselves in the relative 'privacy' of their own homes. Enjoy the reprieve, citizens of Wayward Pines, because after this it's about to get a lot more dangerous in our sleepy little town. SUDDEN RECALL
MEMORY EVENT: Sudden Recall
EVENT DATE: May 15th - 19th
Wayward Pines has seen its fair share of showers this month, but on the 15th the clouds have for the most part drifted across the southern cliffs and allowed the sun to lend a little spring warmth to the day — a great day to hear from your government officials about how our recovery from last month's flood is progressing. Instead of taking to the podium, residents will be able to catch the address on the phone network's seldom-used channel 0, where it rings in like a particularly incessant phone call until somebody picks up to hear it.
It's odd, though. This is no scripted message asking for your vote in the next election (whenever that's ever gonna happen)... It delivers the expected information, but under the bare modicum of political professionalism, the delivery is erratic, scattered, almost a little dazed. And as you listen — or maybe a bit later, when you're doing the laundry, or meeting a friend for a drink — it hits you. A vision... Could it even be a memory?
It's not from your life before, but it doesn't fit into the cozy memories of life in Wayward Pines, either. But it feels real, maybe all the more so for the way it blurs on the far edge of coherency, so unlike your crisp, vivid memories of either one of your supposed lives.
However, a few things might still stick out in your mind: Your surroundings, clean and clinical. The chill of metal against your bare back, cutting through a little of the fog in your head. A bustle of men and women around you, like a churning tide of movement you couldn't keep up with if you tried. Their voices a steady drone of clipped conversation around you, but the words slipped by you like sand through your fingers. They might have been dressed in white, or maybe the glare from the flourescents had you temporarily blinded. And they were touching you, you remember the occasional touch of a hand or just a few fingers. At the time, you likely struggled to connect the fact that it was you they were touching.
If you woke up with injuries in the hospital, you probably remember them here too, and they were downright debilitating in this memory. Either way, you remember being painfully stiff and sore — having difficulty even moving your neck to groggily take in these surroundings. If you managed it and looked to your side, you saw a door with a viewing window in the top that opened every so often. The room beyond the door was low-lit and hard to make out, full of indiscernible movement and large, dim shapes.
Then, finally, you managed to scrape together the coherency to parse some of the chatter around you. "— are clear. Haptic tests are clear." Then, a pinch just inside your elbow. "Proceeding to —" And then unconsciousness claimed you once more.Just a few notes on this one:
This event is, as always, entirely opt-in. Though all residents are expected to listen to the message, it won't necessarily trigger any memory at all in your character. Maybe it simply strikes them as unusual instead. We encourage players who do opt in to decide how much your character remembers from the details given above, since not everyone will necessarily have the same experience! Maybe they remember some parts, but not others. The memories may be as vivid as described, or maybe they're even hazier. That said, all characters who regain the memory will have universally heard the dialogue quoted at the end.
There will be both an audio network post and a catch-all log going up for this event on the 15th for your convenience.
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He'll then (carrying his tracker) head for Steve's place, ask him if they can talk about Caroline, and once they're safely closed off in Steve's room, inform him of everything BB-8's found, including the fact that the wall is seemingly patrolled by beings that BB-8 can't identify--neither human nor any other known species. Steve, at that point, will suggest that he and Poe have a "talk" with the sheriff. After having Natasha remove his tracker, Steve will make a post to the network that will... uh. Get the sheriff's attention double-quick.
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Before long, his cruiser pulls up in front of Casa de Shitstir. His movements are a bit quicker and more clipped, his typical nonchalance no more than the thinnest veneer as he strides up toward the front door.
A shadow passes over Steve's bedroom window. The tallest of the half-dozen officers creeping along the sides and back of the house failed to duck quite low enough, but by the next window he's rectified his mistake and it's almost like they aren't even there.
The Sheriff knocks sharply. Non-negotiably. He calls for Rogers and Dameron - no "Mister" this time on either account.
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It's Poe who answers the door, bright-eyed and looking like the sheriff's visit is a great end to a lovely day. That said, he stands well back, out of easy reach. "You're fast. Has anyone ever told you that? Really fast, it would be impressive if you weren't, y'know."
An airy gesture that somehow conveys rathtar puke.
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The Sheriff's eyes narrow incrementally at how sunny Poe seems, but it doesn't seem to give him any real pause. He takes a step forward, authoritative but still nonthreatening, into the space just barely outside the now-open front door.
"Evening," he greets. It's a thin layer of casual over sharp edges and worn nerves. He says that he's gonna need 'you boys' to take a few minutes out of their busy schedules to take a ride with him down to the station so they can talk a few things out.
Outside, everything is still.
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While this exchange has been going on, Sam and Clint may have watched from the roof as one officer drew out his phone, lit with a number at the lowest possible brightness setting. It seemed to have been important — he didn't answer, but when he pocketed the phone, he left the rest of the officers to creep back around the perimeter and head for one of the cruisers parked in a driveway down the street. There's a moment's silence, then the car starts up, backs out of the drive, and zips off down the street.
A second later, a voice sounds from the Sheriff's walkie-talkie: "305 to northwest". He reaches to turn down the volume, then presses a button on the side.
Sam and Clint will see a couple of the officers press fingers to their ears, then two head for the garage door (but don't enter) while another creeps back around the front, crouched against the wall about seven feet from the door the sheriff is now stepping in over the threshold.
He tells them he's not here to play any games. He'll arrest the both of them if he has to — he was just hoping they'd have the sense to come voluntarily instead.
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He's earnest about the questions, earnest and frustrated. Don't tell him it's for their own good, either, he adds. He's been there, heard that, and all it does in the end is get a lot of innocent people caught in the crossfire.
Poe legitimately has to calm himself down, and he takes another step back as he tries. "Come on, Danny. I just want to know why we're here."
we almost might as well have done this on the logs comm, i got carried away
None of these questions are all that unexpected. Not until the earnest plea. It's angry, sure, but underneath that? It seems like he's trying to level with Sheriff Griffith instead of just making him the enemy.
A beat of eye contact — it's the steely look of a man who might not love what he's doing but is nonetheless resolute in the necessity of it. Then his head shakes, just barely. "You know I can't do that." But that's not going to be enough. He knows it's not. He continues, voice hushed a good deal lower. "This, all of this? It's bigger than chips and cameras. But you know that — don't you?" It's why he called him here. Why he's luring him inside.
His voice goes a little steely again. This is where the negotiation ends. "We've got two options here, you and I. One, I walk out that door trusting that you and you pals —" An incline of his head toward the next room, his best estimate of where at least one of them's hiding. "— aren't keen to raise any more hell on my watch. Then, the minute that running my mouth won't end in half the town dead, you're the guy I call. And we sit down, and we have a chat."
He pauses there, to let that option sink in. "Two, I fail to check in with an all-clear in, oh, say 35 seconds now and the three of you pass right out where you stand."
He's not big on threats. He'd prefer just to call it a statement of fact.
"Use your head, Poe. I can't make this offer a second time." His eyes flicker up to one of the broken cameras, unintentional but entirely telling.
DELICIOUS
Except Desso, his office, and everyone under him is gone.
Steve steps into the hall from the dining room, shield on one arm, but not raised either in offense or defense. His expression is grim, his tone nonthreatening but clearly the voice of someone who's been in this position before. "Sounds like you're the one with a choice to make, Danny. You can press whatever button you need to buy us all some time and give us some answers, and maybe after that we'll come with you under our own power. But we're not waiting anymore, and we're not the only ones who have had enough. There's no lid here, there's no containment, no matter how high your wall is. If we're gonna sit down it's now or never. After this there's gonna be a fight."
Poe's focus flicks to Steve for a moment, and he's grateful to the man for putting into words almost exactly what Poe himself was thinking. He puts his hands up, not raised over his head, but the sort of gesture that says a person is unarmed and doesn't want to attack. "I saw billions die because decent people waited too long to do the right thing. There's never going to be a good time. You have to make it. Make it now."
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Throughout Poe's section of speech, he casts a glance back at the door. When he looks back at the men before him, there's a sort of decisiveness in his eyes, and 'Make it now.' has him reaching to snatch the walkie from his waist and drawing breath to speak.
But before it quite reaches his mouth, both men are rendered unconscious before his eyes. Natasha in the garage and both men on the roof have no doubt suffered the same unfortunate fate.
Sheriff Griffith exhales a heavy sigh through his nose, letting the walkie fall back to his side for a second before lifting it again. "Couldn't have held off a little, could you?" Then, "295, 320, stay on-site for the clean-up crew."
And he turns, leaves the house, and shuts the door behind him.
Natasha, Clint, and Sam will wake up the following morning in jail. Steve and Poe, however, will be missing from town for an entire week. They have failed their first integration. Please report this incident to the Crime & Punishment page, with your thoughts on what sort of deterrent you'd like them to have on their second integration (see the FAQ for more on the consequences of a failed integration).
also
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Redwing could also find Katniss and Peeta crouched silently in the shrubbery nearby, about 75 yards from the fence — the closest they can get without being too weak to flee if necessary. They seem to be watching what happens from here.
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Who knows what fate awaits him? #SaveRedwing