exsiliumlogs | TEMPORAL TURBULENCE: THE CITY SEIGED

Date & Time: approx. 6/23-6/25
Location: All over the Hold & city surrounding
Characters: Several (tag yourselves in)
Sumamry: The civilians of the Exsilium city revolt
Warnings: Oodles of violence (notify Elle or Liz of anything else worthy of labeling)

The unrest had been mounting for days and days...With no answers or treatments to satisfy the ailing, the population was reaching a breaking point. Too much uncertainty, too much fear and suspicion...They wanted answers. They wanted results. What they were given was absolutely nothing in their eyes.

Many grew bold. They gathered weapons, formed plans and groups...They readied.

One more night of empty assurances, and things began to move in a bad way. Vandals sneaked into the Hold and tore up property in the living quarters before being discovered and chased out, escaping capture. Their valiant retelling was enough to spur the rest into motion.

Come early daylight, hundreds, maybe thousands, of civilians made war upon the Initiative.

Threaded | Flat

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They came in waves. Some smaller or larger than others, but no less filled with a passionate rage that oftentimes made up for the lack of combat skill. Knives, personal firearms, improvised objects...It didn't matter. They came as a unit, were emboldened by their togetherness, and lashed out at the Hold and any therein. Transports and employees alike would receive no quarter in those hot bursts of fighting.

And no matter how many times they were beaten back, they just kept coming back, the numbers rising and falling with the last fight's results.

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This is the future, remember? The future has jetpacks. Even in the dilapidated state of Exsilium, there are jetpacks. Only twelve, but that's twelve more than anyone wanted to see at the time.

These men and women were laden with homemade explosives, soaring high above the distracting mobs on the ground, ready to throw their loads on the Hold's rooftops. They were quick, and could dart about like obnoxious, overgrown flies; there was no doubt they'd land a hit or two unchecked.

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Her name was Maggie Stafford, legally, but it wasn't something spread about the Hold. To everyone transported to Exilium from times and worlds afar, she was the first face they saw upon arrival. A mild, even tone and a mild, even smile, trained and groomed to be as perfect a messenger as could be had.

The civilians knew her, too. Relaying empty promises and offering no solutions, Maggie Stafford was the face of the enemy.

When she had been counted missing, the Initiative sent out an alert and drew transports to it, insisting upon her retrieval. It was most dire. She was an asset. ~~She knew things.~~

Be quick, they ordered. Bring her back safe. Alive. Now.

Edited 2012-06-23 20:48 (UTC)

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The water had stopped working. Siege or no siege, water is important, and it was no longer there for the Hold. Someone — or someones — had managed to crawl into the sewer and septic facilities and tamper with the equipment.

There was really no good time for it, but it needed addressing. Again, the Initiative sent out a rally call to transports in the area, and drew a select number to address the problem. They were given directions, taking an elevator to a sublevel from a fairly nondescript building, to be given access to the sewage control system and the piping laced beneath the entire Hold.

They had no need to wait for a key card swipe; someone had blasted the door clean off. There were injured workers scattered throughout the control room, with panels beeping and buzzing angrily with their upset protocols.

Beyond there, the doors would lead to the rat maze of pipes and tunnels, and a foul stink would waft in; something heavy had been taken to one of those pipes enough times to cause a crack, a leak...and hopefully not a deluge.

The banging was persisting, insisting that was the goal. There were people still in there.

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Humans are nothing if not adaptive.

Enough defeats and setbacks had begun to stagger the morale of the mobs, and signs of relief from the chaos were in sight.

So, naturally, someone threw a bit of alcohol on the fire.

Somewhere, some member of the Initiative security force had had enough of his authorities and their cause. Late that night following, he sneaked a handful of civilians into the arms store hidden in the city and given them free access to the arms within.

They'd do a great deal more damage than a little pea-shooter laser. And they were coming in force to the Hold's walls.

Think the last few rounds were messy? Try this on for size.

THE MOB GOES WILD: 6/23-6/25

FIRE FROM THE SKY: 6/24

SOMEONE TO SAVE: 6/24 (CLOSED)

SO. MUCH. FLUSHING...6/25 (CLOSED)

LEVELING UP: 6/25