exsiliumlogs | (OPEN | Mutiny Log) Well it's been so long

Date & Time: Nov. 16 ~0300 through Nov.19th ~0230hrs, 3133
Location: Housing, Cafeteria, VR rooms, hallways etc (read: everywhere)
Characters: YOU!
Summary: Mutiny on the moon base! Vital systems are offline, mutineers are making PA announcements, and there’s conflict and turmoil brewing in the halls. Dun dun duuun!
Warnings: None yet (possible violence?)
Notes: Specify a date and location in your top comment. You may specify multiple dates/locations. A timeline for the plot and the IC PA announcements made during are available HERE.

[In the dead of night - or as close to ‘the dead of night’ as is possible to have in moon base - a small group of transports finally make the move they’ve been planning for weeks. Pre-determined teams, maintaining radio contact throughout, simultaneously take control of the Transporter Room and take multiple systems offline.

One moment things are normal; they next, they’re not. With a last message flagged as ‘maintenance’ left on the network, the network cuts out. A moment later, Transports across the base find themselves losing contact with the ground or shifting in their sleep and gently floating out of their beds from the force as the gravity drops. Lighting flicks over to emergency only: bathing corridors and rooms in a desolate, lonely red. Doors work - and then they don’t. Transports will find themselves confined to housing (and washrooms), the VR rooms, and the cafeteria; it’s plenty of space to be comfortable and largely covers most Transport’s basic needs (unless you’re fond of cheery light or having your feet on the ground in which case you may be out of luck).

Hours later-- Click-HHHSSSHK-click!

A woman’s voice speaks over the moon base’s PA system, echoing through the dark corridors and off the odds and ends gently floating through them thanks to the lack of gravity regulation. The voice is rich and accented, with a certain practiced ease to it - one that sharpens to a point the longer she talks:]

Testing. Testing-- are we good? Christ, I'm not echoing, am I? No?

All right good. Listen up, fellow transports. As you might have noticed, some of the base's general systems have gone offline: this, I assure you, is absolutely intentional. There's no need to panic.

So moving on from the understandably frustrating to the even more frustrating, I'm sure you all have also noticed the fact that we're currently all stuck-- starving and defenseless-- on the bloody moon. In a base that was, up until a few days ago, overrun with zombies. And before that, thousands of lives were bombed right out of existence, and before that, an entire world-- and before that we were all still being thrown at the United Earth for the sake of dying off repeatedly in a war we never stood a chance or had a say in. Transports have been treated like pawns since day one, and I'm sorry, but we don't deserve it.

If we're giving up our lives and our freedom, I'd say it's about time we earned ourselves a little equality.

We deserve a say in what goes on in this fight, and with that in mind, a few of us have decided to hold onto the transporter for a while. Just until the Initiative agrees to treat us like people instead of ammunition. Trust me, we’re not here to hurt anyone; none of this has to end badly. But it does need to end. Things have got to change. And if this is what it takes? This is what it’s going to be.

We need your help; please don’t make it any harder for us.

[The PA clicks off, pitching the base once more into complete radio silence.

Near the end of the first day, gravity regulation is re-established. The network is brought back online the following day, allowing everyone to communicate more freely. Lighting doesn’t come back online until the 18th and the door regulation isn’t normalized or operable until the 19th. Throughout the four days, the mutineers make multiple PA announcements.

In the mean time? Keep your friends close, come to the aid of your neighbors; help with reconnaissance and choose sides - are you neutral in this mess? Are you trying to help bring systems back online and root out the mutineers? Are you sympathetic to the mutiny and trying to sabotage those Transports standing for the Initiative?]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There are many things that one might expect when they hear an explosive shriek of metal. A resurgence of necromorphs. An explosive tear in the outer hull. Even one of the heating units stressed to blow after several days without maintenance coaxing the systems along.

One generally, does not expect to look up at a face full of flying ~~pussy~~cat. Vennett gets up, the startled yell muffled, at the clinging feline, and only manages to tip himself over backwards as the chair he was seated at was just as frozen in time.

This ridiculous scene disappears from view as they drop behind the computer laden desk.

Which is, of course, when Collette, eyes wide, mouth open, tail lashing, finally thinks of something to say.

< Cat caught your tongue? > More like his face... < No time for lying around! We're here to rescue you! >

Helpfully, she pats the side of his face with a paw, claws all very carefully sheathed.

< Nice catch, by the way. >

Vennett lifts the ...psychic cat talking in his head off of his face. Holding her aloft, he glances back to Lowell from his spot on the floor, intending to ask exactly how long they've been without sleep at this point. These are important facts, after all, in deciding how real what just happened was.

Everyone and everything around him is frozen, almost statue-like...

"The fuck...?"

"Please stay calm!" Another voice from above, this time from a child peering out of a newly-mangled airduct—while the grate to said airduct hangs frozen, mere inches from the ground.

Is this making better sense, yet?

"Sorry Collette," he adds, contrite, once he's sure everything (else) is going according to plan. "The airducts in this world seem prone to giving out."

Because it is clearly the ventilation system's fault, always.

It's only a few seconds before someone else appears on the other end of the opening, offering a smile and a wave.

"Hi, Mister! Do you have anything to stand on so you can reach up here, or do you need us to try and pull you up somehow? We sort of have to move quick."

She hasn't been keeping track of seconds and she doesn't recall exactly how long the effects will last, but it's better to hurry in any case.

The only thing, the only thing that makes sense right now is the fact that the grate is open and people are there. A rescue attempt... wasn't something he expected as much as an armed force, but he'll take it.

But the thing that doesn't make sense the most is also the most alarming.

"Hang it! Those two..." He points to the frozen statues of Lowell and Richard, but he is moving towards the vent. "They're hostages."

Collette struggled, landing on all four feet (if not with total grace) when he let her go. She has to crane her neck back to see his hand gesturing toward two of the other men in the room. One she recognizes from having seen around.

The other gives her full out pause.

< Richard Lawson? > she asked in surprise. Collette startled herself into action, leaping up onto the table by Lowell, peering at him and thrashing her tail from side to side.

< I wasn't by the grating, Chrono. You punched the wall out, too! You've got to work on control! > The last sounds like a tease as she reached out to touch Lowell, stopping before she did. Her left ear flicks toward Richard. Past her first outburst, nothing else follows.

< We've got time to get one of you out right now. We can-- > she continued, paw sliding on cards as she paced the edge. She looked down. < Wait. Chrono? Can you free the cards up and keep the rest frozen? I have an idea! Mister, if you can get up in the vent? If things go wrong, we'll need to get out super fast! >

Work on control, what a joke. Fortunately, her request distracts him from any kind of retort.

Brow furrows in confusion—the cards?—but the effect begins fading from them almost as soon as she asks for it. After only a brief moment, they're restored to their original texture and color, rather than the faint grayscale that seems to have seized the rest of the room.

"What are you up to?"

Vennett watches the... strange psychic cat a second, and then nods. He only pauses, a second, pulling out a simple notepad he'd been working with and it's pen and scrawls a quick note. It gets set at Lowell's workstation rather than in front of him.

"Goin'." Is really all he says, moving to the vent, one hand on the lip of it, and a foot testing how stable the shattered grate, still hovering in mid air is for footing...

And then waits, making sure whatever's going to go on here ISN'T going to take out the room.

Collette paws the cards out, eyeing them as she searches for her target. Pulling out two aces, a spade and a club, she bats them to the floor, leaping down after. It takes some manuevering to pick one up in her mouth and try to figure out how to stash it in the shoe of one hostage, let alone repeat the process all over again.

With a dainty flick of her tail, she trots back to the open grate. Collette gathers herself and leaps up to the open area, scrambling and flicking her ears back before feeling secure. < Ask Jean to pass along that the guys with Aces in their left shoes are hostages, not mutineers! We can give the physical descriptions too. For now, we do need to go! >

Ah...

He hadn't thought of that. It's fortunate that Collette is the brains of this operation, since he's pretty sure he isn't suited for it.

Chrono shifts back as she scrambles her way up, and holds his hand down to Vennett where he stands prone upon the floating grate. The sooner they're out of here, the better.

"We won't let anything happen to them," said reassuringly, or so he hopes. No one is really in a position to be making guarantees here, but no one ever called him wise, either.

(OPEN | Mutiny Log) Well it's been so long

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