epidemiology | EVENT ★ THE USUAL SUSPECTS

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EVENT ★ THE USUAL SUSPECTS

THE BARRIER

As promised, Arthur has the means to unlock that first, crucial step to saving the ALASTAIR recruits: unveiling the runes maintaining the barrier. He has sequestered himself in a rented room in the inn down the road from the prison; he’s at a good enough distance to keep his concentration unbroken, but near enough that he can reach the runes in question. The recruits are told to be ready, to wait for his signal before they take action.

The signal comes just after the stroke of 5 on the town’s clocks, at what would be dawn in a world of less darkness. There’s a shimmer in the air around the brick building of the jail, like the surface of a bubble. Then suddenly the runes are there: glowing bright green, flaming into existence at various points along and within the barrier.

There are at least 30 of them along the outside. They’re etched on walls, scribed into doors, carved into the very ground. These have to be destroyed first to make any progress, in any way the recruits are able to. Once these all have been broken, erased, or scattered (and some of them are cleverly hidden or out of reach -- have you checked the topmost brick in the clock tower of the jailhouse?), the first defense of the barrier has fallen. Then the jailhouse itself can be rushed, but magic is still hampered until every rune is destroyed. From there the runes can be found every few feet in the walls, ceilings, and floors of the jail, and only once each one is broken will the spell be completely lifted, magic and abilities restored to the area, and the inmates considerably easier to break out.

The recruits aren’t the only ones that can see those runes, though. The jailers are quick to react, and some spring to the defense of the runes while others rush to sound the alarm, calling even more armed guards to the area. Even city guards start to show up in response to the alarm -- there’s definitely a time limit on this venture. Dispose of the runes, rescue your friends, and be out of the area quickly, or you might just be overrun with armed, angry opposition.

THE ESCAPE

By the time those in the cells are finally brought out, it’s pandemonium. The guards, jailers and city guards alike, might not have been able to stop ALASTAIR’s recruits from destroying the runes and bringing down the barrier, but they’re determined at least to stop dangerous criminals from escaping into the city. And these criminals were due to be hung, so they’re not looking to take anyone down peacefully. They’ll be going for the killing blows.

The best chance will be to rely on numbers and scatter. In ones and twos and threes, people should be taking to shadowy alleys, slipping around corners, even dropping down into the sewers, if they have to. Anything to thin out and disappear. The most capable and destructive fighters are asked to stay as long as they can, giving the bulk of the rest of the escapees time to disappear into that unending night.

THE COOLDOWN

Those that helped free their friends probably won’t run into too many problems in the following days, unless you run into a guard with a few injuries and a long memory. The ex-prisoners, though, are another story. They were in there long enough that the men and women who guarded them know most of their faces quite well, and since they’re out of prisoners to guard, what else do they have to do but take to the streets and search? Ex-prisoners should play it carefully, then, if they don’t want to end up right back where they started. Guards are more than happy to cause an immediate fracas should they spot anyone that belongs in jail.

That’s not to say you shouldn’t go out at all! Just, you know, take a disguise with you. As if anticipating the rising demand for them, all local merchant shops seem to be stocking up on scarves, shawls, and bulky clothing. Isn’t that nice? Most of them don’t really care what anyone did to end up in jail, they just want to share in on those ALASTAIR-paid wages.

If spotted, townsfolk have varied opinions of the escapees. Some are mistrustful and bitter, and will immediately alert guards upon realizing who they’re dealing with. Some of them really don’t care. They’re tired of the darkness, tired of the conflicts, they just want to get on with life. One old man in particular seems to inexplicably love all ALASTAIR recruits, the ex-prisoners in particular, and will insist on buying a drink and playing a game of chess with any of them he runs into. The goblins, of course, have pretty good opinions of anyone on the wrong side of the king, and will be your best bet for finding lodging and food. Some of them might even think of you as a hero, or at least a roguishly charming vigilante.

Spend your post-breakout time well, and try not to make any more enemies.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ both of them cleverly manage to avoid giving each other any actual description of what they look like (nice job, team), so Melan actually doesn't quite notice her; there are a lot of people running around, though admittedly, most are goblins. The sound of her jewelry is all that gets his attention, and he looks up at her - but he doesn't recognize her as Olivia, exactly.

That said, the nearly-seven-foot-tall insect-like android sitting on the ground definitely sticks out a little bit in medieval goblin land. ]

[ yeah, so olivia doesn't know what it is she's looking for... but given that melan is the only non-goblin milling about that the moment, she goes ahead and makes an Educated Guess. ]

...um?

[ she comes a bit closer, hands clasped over her chest in a nervous gesture. ]

Are you waiting for somebody...?

[ as she approaches, he continues to stare at her with those unblinking red eyes of his, which probably don't help the nerves much. He's halfway anticipating an attack or a mean remark, but they don't come, thankfully. ]

Yes. [ a pause. ] Are you the one with the shells?

[ her cheeks burn crimson at that, reminded of her failed attempt as espionage. ]

Um... yes, I'm Olivia. I really don't have shells, though...

[ sorry to disappoint?! ]

I know. It was a code.

[ it's not clear if he's just restating a fact or being clever with her. Either way, with her identity confirmed, he gets back up to his feet with a sound of shifting hydraulics and metal. ]

My name is Melan. A living weapon Monomakia.

[ she blinks a bit, unsure how to take his words either. they're spoken so matter-of-factly that the lack of any intonation throws her a little. but she isn't too terribly inclined to think badly of others, so she grants him the benefit of the doubt and responds, instead, with a weak little laugh.

she shrinks back a little when he rises to his full height, thrown once more. it's... still rather weird to be speaking to what looks to her like a machine, but clearly isn't only that. ]

Um. It's nice to meet you, Melan. I'm Olivia... [ a pause. ] A dancer?

[ "living weapon" though.... that doesn't sound very friendly. ]

[ no need to worry, he's harmless unless you get in the way of The Mission(TM). ]

Olivia. [ a nod. He's obviously completly oblivious to the fact that she's a little bit scared of him. ] What's a dancer?

[ he's oblivious to a lot of things... ]

[ sweats ]

Oh — do you not have dancers in your world?

[ well that's a good way to distract her, at least. her eyes are wide, a look of curiosity and — maybe even a bit of pity on her expression. do they even have music?! ]

A dancer is someone who moves to the rhythm of music, usually for a performance.

Ah. [ he sounds like he remembered something. ] Okay. I understand now.

[ that's probably what Marin and Moe were doing that one time... ]

I don't know. I haven't seen them before. But my friends danced before, I think.

Did they tell you about it?

[ but now olivia is curious. there are so many different worlds out there, and yet she had just assumed everyone had music and dancing... ]

No, I was there. We were playing at the beach.

[ if she can even imagine this big lug "playing at the beach" with anyone. ]

I did not know it could be a profession for humans.

[ olivia nods in answer, but her attention is elsewhere now. shifting back, she allows some space between them, before glancing up at him hopefully. ]

Can you show me?

[ he pauses for a few seconds, apparently not sure what she's asking of him. ]

Currently, it would be difficult to take you to that beach, even for me.

[ yeah definitely not sure ]

[ melan pls???

though olivia does giggle a bit, as if he'd just made the most hilarious joke... ]

No, no, not the beach — the dance!

[ she beams up at him. ] Do you remember any of it?

[ unbelievably, he does have something like pride... or, at least, some sense of shame that makes him really not want to try and re-enact the goofy dance Marin and Moe had invented for their elementary school theater project. He's quiet for a few moments, then shakes his head. ]

Um... No.

[ spare him pls ]

[ ah... olivia smiles despite her disappointment, and she may feel a little silly for asking in the first place. ]

Oh... Well that's okay...! Maybe one day something will jog your memory.

[ she steps back, shrugging off her cloak and offering it up to him. ]

Ready?

Maybe...

[ but maybe... not.......

he stares at the cloak she offers to him, not seeming to understand her intent, though he reaches out and slips it onto the tip of his rifle-arm nonetheless. ]

What is this for?

[ she laughs lightly, but it's far from malicious. ]

Your disguise, remember? [ that's why she went out to meet him in the first place! ]

[ he was worried she was going to say that. Still, it's a kind gesture, and he's not so impolite as to not give it an attempt. With a silent nod, his feelers extend from his abdomen, gingerly plucking the dark fabric from the tip of his weapon before proceeding to try and maneuver it onto himself.

Melan has never needed to put on clothes before. He's also a lot taller than Olivia, and, more importantly, he has a big, weird head. Melan gets the cloak over said head until he reaches the collar - at which point it catches on his pointy horns.

He makes a small, subdued noise of surprise, then starts trying (and failing) to get his head through the hole. Gently. So he doesn't tear it. ]

Oh.

[ yes, olivia sees the problem now. luckily, the cloak itself is fairly malleable, at least in that it is essentially just a slightly more fitted blanket. she purses her lips to stifle the smile threatening to come out, knowing she shouldn't be amused by his misfortune... but it is rather endearingly adorable to see him struggle like that.

after a moment, she holds a hand out towards it. ]

Um. May I...? I'll just need you to bend down a little...

Oh... Yes.

[ thank goodness for kind people. lowering his weapons safely out of the way, he bends down on one knee so that Olivia can reach his head more easily. ]

Sorry.

Oh, you don't have to apologize for that, [ she assures him. especially since she'd found amusement in it just a few seconds ago.

as gingerly as possibly, as if she could somehow hurt the ai, she reaches around to more firmly and securely settle the hood of the cloak around his oddly-shaped head. it's... still not doing much to really disguise him, but at least it'll become more of an effort to notice his oddities with this. ]

There you are. Perfect!

[ he's a good sport while she fiddles with the hood, staying almost perfectly still. It's a little bit ticklish, but nothing more than that; when she finishes, he gets back to his feet, looking down at himself somewhat inquisitively. ]

Really? [ in response to her "perfect." it's not disparaging, more curious. ] Thank you. Do you really think this will help?

[ her soft laugh is a little weak, but her smile is not lacking in sincerity and good nature. ]

Well... it'll help some, for sure. [ it might not make him entirely inconspicuous but it's... something. ]

Most of it is in confidence, anyway! Just act natural, and like you belong there, and everyone else will believe it too.

Act natural... [ ...??? okay he'll do his best but that probably means he shouldn't fly. There's a small shifting noise as his wings clip back down on his back, having risen a few inches before in preparation for a journey to the inn. ]

Understood. Then I'll walk. [ a nod at his companion. lead the way to food, friend. ]

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