epidemiology | EVENT ★ A-LICKY BOOM BOOM DOWN

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EVENT ★ A-LICKY BOOM BOOM DOWN

WELCOME TO WOODHURST

Arrival in Woodhurst goes largely unnoticed by its occupants. Characters will find themselves scattered into the city in inconspicuous places: stepping out of public restrooms that were previously empty, in the middle of a revolving door, appearing from overlooked service doorways and unoccupied retail break rooms. Arrivals -- with cloaking devices already active for those who need them -- will get barely a second look.

ALASTAIR researchers and networkers will have already secured housing -- whether that be a motel, apartment, home, etc. -- for Team Audentes as well as credentials for those whose jobs require them, but it is up to the team themselves to weave together their various cover stories and find their way to their new jobs. Luckily, most of the citizens of Woodhurst have more on their mind than usual, and won't be too interested in their new neighbors and coworkers.

WEEK 1

There's been a sickness spreading lately. Everyone has noticed it. People sometimes pause to murmur together in worried, furtive tones, the one of them with a cough looking especially distressed. Largely, though, people are doing their best to keep up life as normal. This concerning turn of events will probably blow over just fine, and rent still needs to be paid. Still, little signs here and there (the grocery stores are having trouble keeping bottled water and non perishables in stock) speak to the unease that can be felt in the city.

Audentes has about a week to get comfortable. Snow falls now and then, never too much, but somehow always just enough to delay the buses of the public transit system. Historic downtown Woodhurst is picturesque in the light wintery sprinkle, and sometimes the buses even make their schedules there. Things are a little quiet in the business district, as many have opted to work from home until this all sorts itself out. The housing and suburban areas have a little more of a buzz of activity than usual; neighbors talk to each other for the first time in months to see if there's any news or updates, friends check in and visit with one another.

Signs of any actual infected are rare, to the point where it may be easy to forget that's why ALASTAIR is here. But if you're lucky (?), you may run into someone staggering down a snowy street who doesn't look very well. They could just be hungover, but what's with those dark, prominent veins on their face...?

Seven days into their stay in town, things suddenly pick up.

WEEK 2

Woodhurst is quarantined. Local TV and radio stations broadcast nothing but this fact and follow up information for a solid 24 hours. And if TV and radio isn't your bag, it's also broadcast over loud speakers for 8 hours straight during the first day. The news of it is impossible to miss, but the gist of it is simple: no one may enter or leave Woodhurst, and all citizens must be off the streets by 10 PM.

Also impossible to miss are the blockades and barricades that have suddenly and swiftly been set up at every road leading out of Woodhurst, no matter how major or minor. They are guarded by military in dark uniforms, visibly armed. Local law enforcement is called in to help, and any Audentes members posing as police officers may find themselves face-to-face with angry, terrified citizens as they take their frustrations out. Panic spikes. Some stores, usually grocery stores, report looting, and one or two riots even break out near the barricades. The military seems to have been instructed to stop people non-lethally, but will use violence in turn if it is used against them. They do not answer any questions put to them by citizens wanting to get to their families on the other side of the border and demanding to know why they can't, and keep their expressions carefully neutral.

Still, not everyone is peaceable about it -- a terrified, haggard-looking mother tightly grips her screaming child's hand as she argues with a policeman. Her older son is apparently in Wakefield, and she needs to get to him immediately. Her shouting and her child's wailing is starting to agitate the crowd and the other policeman alike, a noticeable tension rising in the air.

The hospitals experience a sharp uptick in activity, admitting those who were hurt in the first initial panicky rushes and serving many who fretfully complain of the symptoms of the spreading sickness. Even those with nothing more than the common cold have rushed in, not wanting to listen when the hospital staff explains to them that the symptoms are nothing alike.

david tilton;

For the most part, Woodhurst doesn't look infected. Tempers are flaring, but that seems natural considering the circumstances. Even the fights that break out can be chalked up to scared citizens vying for the limited resources within the quarantined area. Once in a while, erratic behavior can be spotted, though. A man runs down the street at top speeds with nothing pursuing him, his eyes wide and wild, only to vanish down a side street. A thrashing woman at the hospital is sedated and restrained, and the sounds she's making don't sound like words as she's wheeled quickly away.

On the evening of the first day, the mayor makes a statement on behalf of the city, urging citizens not to panic. She claims they have everything under control, that life can continue as normal save for a few restrictions, and that the quarantine is simply a precaution. Of course, various news outlets have taken the story and run with it, looking for the scoop. A few conspiracy theorists even try to spread their thoughts, handing out nonsensical pamphlets on the street and frightening people who are uneducated on the Bristol virus.

Woodhurst is doing its best, though. After the first two days of initial panic after the quarantine descends, its sturdy citizens make a noble attempt to continue life as usual. About 25% of the population stays indoors, but the other 75% of it can still be seen going about their business, most of them with the concession of flu masks (or bandanas, t-shirts, or whatever else is on hand; supplies are tough to come by sometimes). The situation isn't great, but life marches on.

And, after all, surely things will blow over sooner or later.

OOC NOTES

Welcome to the new mission! Infection sign-ups are now closed for current players, but all characters accepted after January 28th will still have the opportunity to sign up. The offical locations page is now up. Please read it carefully! Some locations had to be tweaked to properly fit the setting. The Bounty Board will be available with the next log. Keep an eye out!

REMINDER: The infected population are not undead! We have used "zombie" as a shorthand description on the calendar, but please keep in mind that infected persons are alive, just sick.

For more information on the mission, please check the dossier and the January/February calendars. Since this log is coming up so late in the month, threads from this log can be used for either January or February AC, with the stipulation that you still cannot use the same thread for both months.

Questions about Woodhurst can be submitted to this thread. Questions about the game in general should be directed to the FAQ. You may submit mission ideas or player plots at any time.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[UgggGGGGGHhhh. She wants to smack him in the dumb stupid face right now, that would surely knock him out of this sulk, but she probably shouldn't start beating on him in public. Or... ever? She should stop using her jabby little fists to circumvent feelings, basically.

She moves to stand next to him so she can lean against him a little, subtly, slipping her arm behind his back. She's not a huge fan of PDA, but touching on him when he's upset seems to calm him down, so sacrifices must be made.] I like Gortys better than Dumpy. [It's a joke, she's trying to be cute for levity. She might just grab the bunny again if that doesn't work.] No, um... no. Nothing. I'm sorry.

[ He's still feeling pissy about the whole thing, but he lets his hackles down a little. It's entirely involuntary; if he had it his way, he'd stay annoyed about everything forever, then he'd win every argument. He's weak, though, and she's being cute. He sulks for a moment more, then rests his hand on her back. ]

Yeah, well. If it turns out you're lying, I'll tell Dumpy what you said about him. And he won't be happy about it.

[Thank god. She can only take sulky Rhys for so long, it's too pitiful.] Nooo, not that. I'll go deaf. [She presses her fingers lightly into his hip to just reinforce her soothing, since winter clothes aren't super conducive to the standard Gentle Scratching.

Glancing at him sidelong, she adds,] Do you want to look around more? Or go home? ["Home," he knows what she means.]

[ She's basically petting with the grain and he's easily influenced, so this pleases him, and he untenses the rest of the way. That's one temper tantrum narrowly avoided, but probably not the last one she'll need to sidestep. Not about this, necessarily, just in general. He has a lot of emotions about a lot of things. ]

Me, I'm super okay with that. But you only got to pet, like, two bunnies. [ ONLY two!! Although that's also probably the most bunnies she's ever seen in real life, if he had to guess, so maybe that was exciting enough. ] And we didn't touch any lawns, or... mow them? Or— whatever it is that you wanted to do with them. Is that the end of Fiona's Super Big Mega Awesome Suburban Adventure Jamboree today, are you sure you're ready to go home?

[As long as he doesn't have tantrums in public, she can probably deal. By which I mean she needs to be able to argue with him without getting the muggle police involved.]

We can't mow lawns when there's snow, stupid. [OR CAN THEY??? No, she's pretty sure. Like 95%. She moves away just enough where she can take his hand, leading him back through the store so they can leave. She came here for bunnies and she touched bunnies; this is in fact her first real-life experience with them, so she needs to pace herself.] Weee could... go sledding. Or build a snowman? And then there's hot chocolate, that's what happens post-snow excursion.

[ Ooh, she's holding his hand in public, this hot PDA. Actually, he's super pleased about it, show everyone that they kiss each other's faces. It's the closest he can get to making her wear a shirt with his face on it. I ♥ Rhys, etc. He just lets her lead him wherever she wants, he would just be trailing behind her like an annoying puppy anyway. ]

Wow, you're an expert, huh. [ What holiday special of space Degrassi did she get this from, because clearly it isn't from personal experience. Since she literally lived in a cave. An actual caveman. ] You said sledding was dumb. Also, I'm not actually sure how to buy a sled. Or, um, how to do it? I... literally do not know anything about sledding. [ His knowledge of winter sports probably ends at playing SSX Tricky. ] Buuut we can do the other stuff?

[Don't get too excited, she goes back to holding his arm once they're outside. Which is still a Display that is Public, but it's less gooey. Or more gooey? Whatever, the point is that she prefers it as far as public touching goes.]

Oh my god, you don't know how to sled, what kind of suburbanite are you. [These important survival skills! She turns them around to go back """home,""" the house that they've temporarily acquired; she still wants lunch, but cuddling up with sandwiches sounds more appealing than paying for weird, overpriced Earth food.]

Well, anyway. Lucky for you, we have the essentials at the house. Cups and hot chocolate mix.

[ The kind of suburbanite that doesn't go outside! Basement-dweller, remember. He probably spent all his snow days inside on whatever the 29th century version of Reddit is. ]

A mix, oh, boy. [ Obviously, he's being sarcastic — where's the Starbucks! — but he smiles so she doesn't think he's making fun of her. He has to be on good behavior so maybe she'll hold his hand some more later. ] I feel like you're going to make me make it. Are you going to make me make it? You're going to make me make it, aren't you.

[Obviously it's space Reddit or Speddit, get with the program. She makes a little face in response to the sarcasm, but squeezes his arm right after, happy although she's unwilling to be that obvious about it. It's embarrassing.]

Shut up. I was going to do it myself, but you just talked yourself right into hot chocolate duty. [Torture.] It's fair, though, since obviously I'll be pulling most of the weight in snowman-building.

[ Yep, he was all over space /r/me_irl. He doesn't totally believe that she was ever going to do it — maybe she thought she was, but he fully believes she would have gotten lazy before then and demanded he do it instead because that's the kind of person she is — but he makes a big deal out of scowling about it anyway, like, oh, darn, this is the worst. He'll have to put some hot chocolate in the microwave, so difficult.

Quite frankly, he's more offended by her suggestion that she'll somehow be """pulling more weight""" here. ] Excuse me? Obviously, what's obvious— when's the last time you even made a snowman, just wondering. Is iiiit never?

[In the microwave, you heathen. Boiling water all the way. Fiona laughs a little, scrunching up her nose at him.] It can't be that hard. I made snowballs, it's the same concept. It's just obvious because yoouuu... are weak.

[ Boiled WATER?? Milk or half-and-half, you sick freak. His scowl deepens; it's not like snow is that heavy!! Shut up. He pokes her in the shoulder all threatening-like, are they gonna have to throw down. ]

I'm not— I'm not weak, you're weak. [ His go-to comeback, I know you are but what am I. ]

[Putting milk in the microwave, you're a monster. She squeaks a little when he pokes her, jabbing her elbow into his side. She will stop and trip him in the middle of the sidewalk, don't test her.]

Do you want to arm wrestle? Because I will absolutely destroy you.

[ Warm milk is delicious, SLAPS YOU TO THE MOON!!! Anyway, her jabbing hurts more than his poking, obviously, because of her big giant man strength; he rubs his side with his free hand, trying to make her feel bad about it. Stop the abuse. ]

I have a robot arm. Dooo you have a robot arm? Nope, didn't think so.

[She doesn't feel bad, it just makes her want to keep jabbing him instead. She doesn't, because they don't need to have a slap-fight in the middle of the street, but she wants to.

She pauses for a second, glancing over at his other arm and frowning.] Ugh, you look so weird without cybernetics. Turn it off once we're inside.

[ All of her reasoning for not attacking him is that it would look bad to have a public fight, that's sketchy. He holds his right hand up, looking down at it. True, it's all fleshy and weird, but normal people have fleshy and weird hands all the time. ]

What, you think it looks bad? [ If so, he will obviously turn it off the minute he's inside to avoid her ever thinking he looks bad. ] I mean, it's weird, but. I thought it was kind of cool. Not as cool as having a robot arm, obviously, but, you know.

Not bad, just... weird. I don't know. [Don't make her say she ~likes him the way he is,~ she'll die.]

Why is it 'cool'?

Edited (that wasn't english) 2017-02-07 00:43 (UTC)

Because! [ Because. He waves his arm around a little bit, as if she's not already aware he has an arm??? He's just playing with having a real arm, even if it's not an actual arm. ]

It's an arm! [ Which does not sound that impressive now that he hears it; he frowns. ] I mean, like. I didn't have one, annnnd now I do! Sort of. It's fun, it's like a costume. And it's been a while since I had two regular arms, so.

[She makes a quiet, unsure noise, still not totally convinced -- it's weird! It's weird, she likes his robo arm. She has grown to like it. It's his freakin' arm, though, so maybe she should try to be a little less stubborn about it.

She looks at him sidelong again, eyeing his non-robo robo arm.] A costume. [That makes sense; playing dress-up for this mission is fun.] Sooo... do you want to keep it on?

[ Is it really that weird for him to have two normal arms like everyone else, is it. He feels like she'd be weirded out to know that he wasn't born with a robotic arm. He isn't actually half-robot, he's a faker.

He makes a thoughtful face, pursing his lips. ] I don't know. I guess... nnnno? I like my arm. I mean my real arm. ...My real fake arm. The one that I actually have. I like my robot arm, is what I'm saying. [ In case she thinks he has a complex about it or something. He's not pining away for his arm at night. ] For what it cost, I'm not going to not show it. Also, it's just cool, I look cool with it. [ Debatable. ]

[It's a little weird, yeah! She's only known him with one normal arm; she's going to get ahold of his grade school photos one day and flip out. Whenever he brings her home to meet his mom, probably. Just flips a table right in front of her.

She is kind of concerned he has a complex about his robo arm, but this is helping assuage that.] You look... unique with it. [It's a compliment in Fiona-speak. She's already made it pretty clear she likes it, she doesn't need to use her words.] I just mean-- if you want to keep it on when it's just us, that's fine. [They can role play; ooh, baby, you have two normal arms.]

[ Whoa, hot, possession-of-all-four-limbs kink. That's a new one. He wrinkles up his nose and jabs her with his elbow a little. ]

You're definitely weirded out by it, soooo I'll pass. [ It's a really odd thing to be weirded out by, him not having a metal hand, but whatever. If she likes him better with a robo-hand, he's not going to keep his flesh one. TIME TO AMPUTATE. ] Admit it, you like the arm! You think it's cool. Because it is. I mean, it doubles as a flashlight and a computer, I bet your hand can't do that.

Ha ha. You got me there, it sure does have those hot and sexy practical applications. [She's joking, she doesn't have a flashlight or a computer kink. Sorry to disappoint.

She jabs him back, which is terrible because now they're going to get stuck in a jabbing loop and at least one of them is going to wind up with bruised ribs. Probably Fiona, because his elbow has superior pointiness.] I just liiike... you. And all the stuff that makes you you. Which happens to include the arm.

[ But he's the one with brittle bones made of glass and skin of paper, so who knows! Maybe they'll both end up looking like they got mauled by zombies. He does jab her back, because she's issuing a jabbing challenge, and he simply can't back down from that. ]

Ewww. [ He jabs her again. He's obviously, visibly ridiculously pleased and soaking up the compliments like nobody's business, but he's gotta keep up some sort of pretense of not caring. ] Sooo, what kind of snowman do you want to make? I was thinking a snow Dumpy, but I'm open to suggestions.

[Oh my goddd, all this jabbing!! She has no choice but to quit holding onto his arm and take his hand instead, just so his elbow won't be crooked in prime jabbing conditions anymore. This is literally the only reason, she hates holding hands in public, ick. And he definitely didn't win.] Be good. [Don't stab her with your sharp bones and angles.]

Umm... do you mean Dumpy or the bird formerly known as Dumpy. [A snowparrot sounds complicated.] I thought we'd just do a regular one, but if you want to get fancy...

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