epidemiology | [EVENT POST] I FEEL STUPID, AND CONTAGIOUS.

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[EVENT POST] I FEEL STUPID, AND CONTAGIOUS.

CHARACTERS: Open to all!
DATE: 3/11-3/12, ICly
WARNINGS: Zombie attacks? Violence? Shopping???
SUMMARY: Lockdown at the mall! Grab your CDs and your soft pretzel, it's about to get bad.

LET'S GO TO THE MALL

LOCKDOWN

Business has been rough for Woodhurst Shopping Center ever since riots and unrest about the Bristol Virus have shunned most to their homes. Perhaps ill-advisedly, in attempts to draw a few more customers back into the polished halls of the grandest shopping experience Woodhurst has to offer, a weekend of big sales, great bargains, and fun family activities was widely advertised in the Woodhurst Watch. There was even a scheduled public concert, performed by the University Choir.

The turnout was smaller than hoped, yet the air was quite optimistic. Shoppers enjoyed the day of activities and fun, and the sense of security was bolstered by the increased security detail. There was even some members of the press on hand to document this return to normality in a troubled time. Everything was going well, until a scene broke out in the food court.

Security tried to quietly remove members of the choir that suddenly seemed to snap, plowing into one of the food stands and starting to feed on raw meat. However, a good handful of them escaped instant confinement, and while many of the visitors fled the mall as soon as they could, soon Police Detail arrived and put the entire building on lockdown. Nobody in and nobody out until the situation was resolved.

18:00 TO 23:00 HOURS

Anyone unlucky enough to be trapped in the mall is left to their own devices, with very little knowledge to go on. This includes many civilians, as well as a small number of Audentes agents. This also includes a small number of infected, more than just the university choir. There's a voice over the loudspeaker imploring people to hide in stores, barricade doors, and stay put until help arrives.

The majority of the infected seem to linger in the Food Court especially. Bad news for anyone trapped and starting to get hungry as the hours pass by, without any obvious assistance from the outside. The members of ALASTAIR have a choice, help protect or just do their best to avoid the infected themselves. Characters can get into the Security Office for a camera feed on what is happening in the mall, and potentially use it as a base of operations to work from.

00:00 TO 02:00 HOURS

It becomes apparent that the number of infected in the mall are somehow increasing, despite the lockdown. It means that those that have squirreled away into stores and outlets are growing less and less safe as infected numbers multiply and they begin attacking barricades. To make matters worse, anyone that hasn't found cover will find the infected extremely reactive, and willing to give chase around the mall.

The security feed indicates the infected seem to be coming in from the Parking Garage. Investigation will reveal a sewer outlet on the bottom floor. Characters will have to decide whether they should utilize the tunnel as a means of escape, or if sealing it off would ultimately leave the remaining hours of lockdown a little less violent.

04:00 TO 09:00 HOURS

It's been an agonizing 12 hours, and with surprisingly little aide from the outside. With time to make preparations and put plans in place, now it's time to end this lockdown once and for all. Audentes is tasked with neutralizing the remaining infected as well as escorting any remaining civilians to safety, by any means they decide on.

It is up to Audentes to decide how the end of this event plays out, be it removing or otherwise drawing away the lingering infected, or putting them down once and for all. There are plenty of civilians that have been bitten and attacked, leaving the question in the air as to whether they are infected as well. What should be done with those that could be bringing the virus back to their families? The team is going to have to decide on the answer to that.

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[ Shizuo that is some awful luck, unless he actually likes banana-flavored things... (No offense to anyone who likes banana-flavored things... But why...) ]

We're on our own, I'm afraid.

[ She takes another bite-sip of her aggressively strawberry ice pop, a light sigh passing through her like an object deflating. She isn't one to complain, however, and whatever vague disappointment she feels is brushed away. Replaced with... Well, just weariness. ]

Is law enforcement pretty much the same in your world...? [ (Sans the belligerent motorcycle cops that like to chase poor Dullahans around the streets... Also I'm pretty sure I've used that reference already... Anyway!!)

Their conversation is briefly interrupted by a crashing noise somewhere downstairs. Probably another infected mindlessly throwing themselves against the steel grating guarding one of the shop entrances. ]

...I'm not sure how much longer the barricades will hold up. [ Here sits Aqua, bearer of Keyblade and Bad News, and her friend Shizuo, bearer of Freeze Pops and Stop Signs. ]

A drink?

[Of course, she's aware of soda. She just hadn't anticipated that, but there is a chance this is something else Aqua prepared and poured into the bottle to disguise whatever it is. Normally, perhaps, one should be more cautious of taking things from others. But Sakura knows Aqua. Trusts her as a fellow recruit. So after an initially confused look, she tries some.

Her eyes widen after trying it, as she feels it seem to replenish her magic, rejuvenating her strength and power somehow.]

This is....?!

[Yes. "Put" them down. That's what he did. He did not throw them.

Ahem.

Mettaton takes a second to put the keyboard into his storage as he watches Peri strain with the metal. Honestly... he could have done the thing himself, but who could blame him for being curious. And look! She did it!!

She's getting another high-five.]

From what I heard, it looks like most of the trouble is still in the food court. Are we playing heroes tonight, or do you have another script?

I can help get into the security office*. I imagine I can do it faster than a lot of people can, unless there are very arcane security measures in place.

*By breaking the door down, which takes about 30 seconds for me.

Edited (don't tag and talk at the same time kids) 2017-03-18 04:16 (UTC)

[That's naive, whispers a voice in Giorno's mind. It doesn't belong to any devil on his shoulder--it's just his own voice, saying what he already knew he believed. There's no point in trying to save them, that's what his exhausted mind is telling him. There's no point. You can't save the dead.]

[But he knows, too, that there are factors working here that aren't at all related to the reality of the situation. He wasn't like this in Perdition's Rest, even though the chances of success were realistically lower there and the people's brains were already dead.]

[He's not in his right mind. He's exhausted. He's been panicked from not having ready access to food, and the potential for Fugo to get hurt, and the potential for Fugo to hurt. And what he knows is: they can't argue. He can't take a hard stance. Find the middle way. Be a leader. And soon enough his time will come.]

[His voice is soft, when it comes, though his eyes are glassy with fatigue and stress.]

Would the security of an abandoned warehouse be enough, perhaps?

No, it just doesn't suit my look.

[Says Keats, brilliantly contradicting himself in a single sentence. It's a world record, folks.]

Besides, this kind of thing is for children. In case you didn't realize, I'm an adult. I'm not five years old.

Edited 2017-03-18 04:32 (UTC)

Uh huh, [he says blankly, drawing a heart on his own cheek.]

Have you considered a new look?

[He's aware they're in the middle of an infected mall with screaming and wailing humans. He's ignoring it.]

[His frown has been on his face so long one has to think its permanent by now.]

Besides the tweed look you gave me a while ago - which was good, by the way - no.

Honey, I'm afraid to tell you, but that look was horrible. I gave it to you BECAUSE it was horrible. It matches your attitude.

[Sigh. The top of the pen gets popped right back on and into his storage it goes. Poof.]

I accept your thanks, though.

[The rattling coming from the door to his side feels like it's getting louder. It has to be just him. They're infected; they can't get any more desperate than they were fifteen minutes ago. It's just his imagination.

Mettaton crosses his arms over his chest, refusing to stop smiling.]

I also appreciate your cute sentiments of coming to rescue me, though I'm going to have to decline. The infected don't care about me, remember?

Wait, what? You said it looked good!

{Keats: deludes himself into thinking terrible outfits look good on him EVERY TIME.]

[His retort is paused when he hears the rattling nearby. He shoots a glare at it before turning his attention back to Metatton.]

I'm not here to rescue you, I was just...in the area. That's all. [tsuns] Besides, just because you're not of interest to them doesn't mean you can't get hurt, idiot.

[LOCKDOWN; network, un: hemlock]

To everyone else stuck in this shitheel mall, if you've got the time and aren't being attacked by ravenous infected please fill out this survey. Trying to get a headcount of everyone who's here and idea of what we're doing.

1) Are you here by yourself, or did you come in a group? Did you get separated/part ways from your group?
2) Briefly describe your skillset and what your plans are.
3) Are you with any civilians? What's the injury count looking like? Note: I don't really care who's been bitten or not, I just want to know if there's anybody hurt near where you are.

I'm going to try and collect some medical supplies from employee first aid kits. If you've got injured people with you, let me know and I'll swing by your location. I'll have the stuff & can perform emergency first aid.

[LOCKDOWN; scavenge]

[Fugo travels light. He's wearing a dark hooded jacket, hood drawn over his face, and and a backpack slung over one bony shoulder. He is also wearing a pair of designer (for the '90s) sunglasses "borrowed" from Giorno because the fluorescent lighting was giving him a headache before all hell broke loose. One person can't do everything. And Fugo has decided that what he's going to do is he's going to do is collect and redistribute supplies--in particular, medical supplies. Because if he tries to do anything with the infected, he knows that "I will kill someone" will turn from a "probably" into a "certainly".

He's got a handle on it. He's got a handle on it because he has to have a handle on it, or people are going to die. And-- he didn't come out here to kill anyone. He came out to the mall because Giorno took him by the hands and talked him into it. To eat some terrible American junk food. Pick a few pockets, both because it's always good to have extra cash and to show off a little to Jin. Watch Giorno hold up fashionably tacky clothes to his chest and sigh, dramatically and despondently, before buying them anyway.]

[Fugo can be spotted throughout the mall popping in and of various storefronts, his body language tight, wary, and dangerously calm. He pointedly doesn't approach or try to engage any infected; rather he avoids them whenever possible, either by stealth or by temporarily holing himself up behind locked doors or behind grates that they can't get past. Locked doors and locks in general... are not really a problem for him! Whenever he finds one, as long as the coast is clear, he can be found industriously going at it with a bobby pin (from a handful supplied by Giorno) and a small flathead screwdriver.

Inside the stores himself, Fugo is on the lookout for the following things: employee first aid kits, pre-packaged food and water, and cash registers. Because there sure is no one stopping him from hitting the no sale button and snagging the cash out of them if they haven't already been robbed.]

[00:00 TO 02:00 HOURS; worry intensifies]

[One of the things Fugo has come to terms with since falling through a hole out of his universe and into the multiverse at large is that Giorno Giovanna is, in a word ... clingy. Possessive is a good second. Especially when he's stressed, especially when he's worried about Fugo's personal safety. They aren't always together, but Giorno likes Fugo to be with him and, when they're apart, likes to know where he's going and when they're going to meet up again.

So he's very surprised and somewhat alarmed when, after they briefly part ways so Giorno can help a young man with a badly sprained ankle and Fugo can work on getting a grate unlocked a few stores down, Giorno just-- disappears. Into thin air, maybe? Or more likely another one of the stores. But the point is that he didn't say anything and, when Fugo tries to get a hold of him using the magitech, he's not saying anything there either.

It's going to be fine, though. He's just going to continue doing what he's doing. And. You know, just add "finding Giorno" to his itinerary. And maybe something to eat? He's not hungry, but Giorno probably is. It's. Going to be fine. ]

[That being said. It doesn't matter if he recognized you or not. If you look remotely healthy and Fugo spots you, he'll carefully approach. He is notable in appearance both in that he's a little scuffed up from his various misadventures and the huge dark circles under his eyes. He's surprisingly alert for the time of night, but he's obviously seen better days. At this point of the night, he's also just... not bothering with his more perfect, accent-free English.]

Hey. Have you seen someone around my age-- [He shuffles his bag, before sharply gesturing with one hand above his head.] my height? He's got blonde hair and it's. [Fugo frowns-- or, more accurately, his worried frown becomes a little bit deeper-- before using the same hand to sketch three circles over his forehead.] He's got it pinned in three rolls on his forehead.

[wildcard!]

[Feel free to hit me with your own starter! Fugo's going to be pretty much all over the place stealing supplies and getting them to people who need them and generally just keep moving because if he keeps moving there's no way exhaustion and anxiety will catch up with him!! Haha!!!]

Edited 2017-03-18 05:26 (UTC)

[I said it fit your character, is what he's going to say, but...

Ah. Guess it isn't just his imagination.

He slams his hand up against the door and holds it there; the door immediately goes still.

Enjoy this eyebrow raise.]

Oh? And what's going to hurt me?

Edited (words) 2017-03-18 05:20 (UTC)

[The sound of the slam almost makes him flinch, but he remains as stoic as he can, just shaking his head in response to Mettaton's question.]

People who don't know any better. [A sigh.] Or the infected trampling over you because you're just an obstacle in their way of their meal...I mean, there's a lot of ways you could get hurt.

[Where there's a will there's a way and, between the two of them, Fugo's certain that he and Giorno have enough willpower to make it through anything. It was inevitable that they'd find each other again, so-- they did. That's really all there is to say about the subject, even though Fugo's stomach is still tied up in anxious, unhappy knots. The important thing is that they're together again and as okay as two people who aren't even remotely okay can be in a fucked up situation like this.

Currently, they're sitting on the floor behind the counter in the bookstore because the diary guy from before is doing a pretty good job at holding down the fort. It's an awkwardly long and narrow thing, with one end curved and closed and the other open save for a little swinging door at knee height. Giorno pulled him to the very back of the closed end and so here they sit, shoulder-to-shoulder, while Fugo tiredly rummages through his bag for what bits of lightweight food he managed to scavenge.]

I lucked out with the water. [He's got three bottles sitting in front of their toes, all unopened.] When we're done we can refill them in a bathroom or a water fountain. [Rummage... rummage... oh, here it is. Fugo pulls out a pretty sad-looking paper parcel of a still enormous, but sadly very squished looking and folded-in-half soft pretzel party wheel. Holy shit?] Here, hold this while I get the-- [He wrinkles his nose, tired but so tired he can't be skeptical.] Sauces? Ugh. I think you're supposed to tear off little pieces and dip them in things.

[My god, this idiot. He's trying so hard to act like he isn't concerned...

Mettaton knows he's doing that awful thing where he's smiling despite himself. He's still not sure whether this whole thing is endearing or annoying.]

I honestly need to ask, sweetheart: did you happen to skip all of your science and physics classes on the way to your lit degree? Because you have a hard time getting around the concept, [he hits the door again, rattling it with an even louder bang] of metal.

...besides. Unless someone intends to kill me, it doesn't matter. Monsters are sturdy, you know.

Edited 2017-03-18 05:47 (UTC)

[He's . . . not happy. His emotions are too dulled from exhaustion for him to be truly happy. And he doesn't feel safe, because he never does, but also because that would be ridiculous in this situation. Admittedly, he does feel safer around Fugo than around anyone else, and he feels weirdly certain that with Mettaton at the entrance, if he has any control over things, nothing will hurt Giorno. So that's all very nice. But he's not happy, and he doesn't feel safe.]

[What he feels is that things are right, now. Fugo is with him, and so things are right. So he lets himself not quite relax, but let go a bit, lean against Fugo's side and smile in soft, exhausted awe at the big silly pretzel thing.]

Oh, dipping sauces . . . are the most American thing there is, Fugo. Don't you know that?

[He feels so fond, and reaches out to take the pretzel wheel thing. He holds it very carefully, using the tired logic that Fugo got it for him, and Fugo worked hard for it, and Fugo is good, so he has to take good care of it.]

all right, I can meet you there. it's on the third floor to the northeast. in a hall marked employees only.

( he's not an employee but it's for a good cause ok. )

breaking it down would be a last resort if we can help it.

if there's no way to lift the gates inside we could still use the room as a defensive point. it has only one entrance and the door is reinforced. we could keep the worst injured there if it remains secure.

it looks like a keycard of sorts. like you'd see at a hotel room.

I don't know much about them, can we break into something like that?

its disorganized as it is, I know, but realistically I don't think it's possible for everyone trapped to be in the same place. there were too many people present when the lockdown started.

we could hopefully organize the injured at the very least, though. those will need more protection, anyway, it'd make sense to have a single point of defense to keep ourselves from spreading too thin.

Edited 2017-03-18 07:51 (UTC)

I hope you mean that.

( there's something knowing in his tone, because he knows full well how often she seems to find herself in the thick of danger, even if he's asked her to try and stay clear of it. it is all he can do to hope she will be distracted by the needs of the people hidden away with her, yet even that doesn't seem very likely. )

Don't go anywhere alone. And cards don't count as company.

( that's the best he can do to get her to promise to try and be safe, he figures. he can't hold onto her long, carefully releasing her and glancing toward the store. it seems as if it is fairly safe, with the metal grates easy to pull past the windows, and yet he can't seem to stop himself from worrying all the same. ) go, Sakura. And if you need me you know how to catch me.

( his communicator would still work in the mall — she'd just need to be careful using it in front of citizens of Woodhurst. )

[whoops...this is a slight Problem]

ah...i am unable to read english
can you provide an alternate landmark?

[The question turns his expression somber, something hardening behind his eyes as he schools his expression. He wishes that he had better news, he truly does, but unfortunately all there is to say falls quite sort of that. The change in his countenance is simply a measure to mute his own disappointment]

Unfortunately, the number of infected appear to be increasing. I'm only here to check up on the civilians here.

[He tucks his arms behind his back, one hand holding onto the opposite wrist with an uneasy shift of his weight. Much as he wants to, he avoids glancing toward the door]

They must be getting into this building, somehow.

[Haise glances up at the sign when Shizuo points to it, and his attention lingers there for a few moments. The cloying saccharine smell of the freeze pop thickens the air when his associate rips the plastic apart, but he's accustomed enough that he doesn't particularly mind it. At least even if he can't smoke, he can appreciate something like that while they're holed up here.

He levels his gaze on Shizuo for a moment, then looks at the bag beside him. At least his purchases seem to have survived; there's some small solace in that]

Seems like we picked a heck of a day to go bargain-hunting, huh?

[It's uncanny, the sort of luck that they have as ALASTAIR operatives. Of course they're sent to where trouble is, but sometimes it feels like it extends far beyond that. Sometimes he wonders if they don't have some preternatural ability to find even more trouble than they were ever meant to]

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[EVENT POST] I FEEL STUPID, AND CONTAGIOUS.

ASLKDFJ yes...

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text; un: harmonia

04:00 to 09:00

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Pannacotta Fugo; ota + closed prompts

ota!

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closed; giogio

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TEXT | un: huntsman

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