open log » ❝ The VR Program ❞

[initiatesnpc]

Date & Time: August 5th, mid morning.
Location: Anywhere characters happen to be/the VR.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: From August 5th to August 8th, characters are plunged involuntarily into the VR Program.
Warnings: Potential violence within the threads.

When the chance arises, she's quick to take it. The programming is incomplete, she knows; the simulation isn't ready — but she's not likely to get another shot at it. And so she moves, slipping through security codes to input the command. The machines hum to life with nothing but a flicker of a green light in a dark room, and it takes only seconds to establish connections. The signal is sent out; the weapons respond.

In a single pulse, reality drops away.

There will be darkness at first as the mind realigns itself to the signals being sent it. Slowly, the darkness fades, forms take shape. People take shape. The setting is terribly familiar, plucked from the user's own mind. It might feel like a dream at first, with events playing out as if predestined, the would-be dreamer moving through a familiar and unalterable route in them. But as things begin to feel more and more realistic, as more senses more fully connect to the simulation, awareness will change. This is not a dream. This is more than a memory.

Welcome to the VR.

Only 20 minutes later, in some underground quarters, Doctor Sponde is roused from an undignified sprawl. He's hastily briefed and shuttled toward the command center, looking grim. He knows the problem demands an immediate fix, but… well, this is some complex machinery. It could take some time. It could take days. He gets to work.

Comments

[hungover]

"Sure, we can go with that." Friends, people that you failed to keep alive and were murdered by other children -- it's all the same in the end, isn't it?

He coughs hard for a few seconds before he picks up a rock of his own and chucks it at the nearest person's head, taking a chunk out of the boy's skull. Charming.

[itase]

"Oh my god."

Darcy was apparently torn between a shriek and an inability to actually form words with that one, evening out somewhere around a high-pitched, strangled whisper. It didn't stop her throwing, too, of course- she'd played enough Left For Dead to know you never stopped hitting A- but this was not doing wonders for her mental health.

"Please, oh please let a shrink be the next recruit to satan's army when we're out."

[hungover]

Haymitch is relatively unphased by the noise that comes out of Darcy's mouth. Truth be told, the entirety of his associates probably needed no more than a few hundred hours of therapy with a professional, but that hadn't exactly been top priority in the Capitol.

"Calm down. You need to keep a level head." One of them had to stay conscious, after all.

[itase]

"I'm doing pretty freaking well under the circumstances! Men wearing their guts for garters don't get to judge."

Oooh boy, she needed to reconsider some life choices if those words actually just came out of her mouth. But sarcasm was healthy. Sarcasm was easy. Kind of like throwing rocks.

"There's got to be a way out of here."

[hungover]

"I'm doing much better in this case than the last time," he retorts with a scowl, glancing over to Darcy and then to the edge of the cliff.

"If we go over, we're just going to get thrown right back up -- and we'll be extra-crispy."

[itase]

"Rope would've been too much to ask for?"

That particular muttering game with an exasperated glare at the heavens.

"They wouldn't leave us without an exit strategy. That does not a good recruit make."

[hungover]

"Well, you're welcome to take the plunge first."

For all he knows, this place has been modified to allow them to 'escape' by jumping off the thing.