It starts with a roll of thunder.
At least, that’s what you think it is—a low growl through the atmosphere that seems to echo deep and low in your chest—as you turn over in bed, or perhaps as you’re finishing your last drink at a local pub with some new acquaintances, or even as you’re walking home on otherwise safe streets, lamps and moonlight guiding your path. All’s well that ends well: the city is your haven, it’s been sold to you as such, and a little stormy weather never did much harm.
You close your eyes. You take a drink. You turn the corner.
But the sound continues, the vibration grows more oppressive, and you may think to yourself: Thunder shouldn’t shake my nightstand.
Thunder doesn’t send a pulse through the tequila in a shot glass.
Thunder wouldn’t compel the asphalt to rumble and churn beneath my boots.
It all happens very quickly after that; things fall apart.
The cheers of late-night partygoers tumble into a minor chord, sliding into screams—a party of five has just lost sight of two of its members as Main Street splits itself in zigzags rippling out from the city’s center. One side surges into the air as the other half plummets several feet down, small ravines forming along the thoroughfare. The damage replicates itself like dominoes, and citizens new and old alike cry for help into the empty night.
Someone is hanging onto the edge of one jagged, yellow-striped mound of asphalt, fingers slipping, grip temporary. Do you know them?
Do you help?
Within minutes, buildings begin to buckle under the stress of the earth shifting. Metal and concrete siding, roof tiles, window panes—what first sounds like cannon fire clearly presents itself as establishments crumbling while panicked citizens race to covered positions or out into the chaos of the openly shaking streets for any semblance of safety.
“Earthquake!” You hear. “Cover your head!”
The tallest buildings suffer the most damage (the bigger they are, the harder they fall). At the city’s heart, the clock tower sinks almost gently down as if feeling faint, seeking solace in the skirts of its foundation. People blink in shock as the dust rolls over them moments later.
Victims covered in soot and debris, looking for all intents and purposes as if they’d been disturbed from their graves, disperse across the city, trying to reach the authorities, to find their loved ones. It’s clear that amidst the rubble, both formed and newly falling, some of these loved ones are trapped. You hear desperate, muffled calls, buried beneath layers of shattered stone and cement. Voices struggling to be heard through the ongoing shriek and groan of the earth… still… shaking. One of these voices may even be your own. Are you near? Can you lead someone to safety?
Can you pull victims from the rubble? Are you, yourself, in trouble?
The city bank’s vault is loose, no doubt. The shops are in trouble, security gates destroyed. Do you take advantage while you can?
Whatever you decide, watch for the emergency vehicles and fire trucks barreling their way toward the center of destruction, rescue crews ready to spot those in need. Perhaps you can help them. Perhaps they can help you, instead. (Perhaps they can apprehend you, too, if you misbehave and don’t cover your tracks.)
The rumble continues, curls its way like a fist further out towards the city limits, losing ferocity as it does, but it takes the temporary housing district for its final victim. The city’s newest arrivals won’t get much sleep tonight. Rifts in concrete walls crawl their way from the ground floors, up, all vine and sinew and spider web. Some are more severe than others. While the first floor rooms may find more damage to their walls, bedroom windows bursting as foundations tilt, the upper floors will see things end up just a hair off in balance—askew. Put a glass of water on the table, and it may not stay in one place for long.
Surely the building isn’t safe enough to sleep in, not now. Can you make it safe? Can you reach out to your neighbors? How do you manage?
Three hours after the initial disturbance, long after earlier news programs had urgently advised all city dwellers to take due cover during the apparent earthquake, a crackling message filters through across television screens, electronic billboards, and on your city-issued devices. Mayor Drake sits in full view in front of the Energem, the symbol of the city, its life force. It is in one piece, from the looks of it, and so is she (if understandably haggard and dark around the eyes). “Citizens of Cadelle, as you know, we’ve suffered quite the seismic anomaly this evening. Tectonic plate shifting is not abnormal in a city so near the coast, but we had yet to experience an earthquake of this magnitude in all our recorded history. Although most of the damage was focused towards the city’s center, that center was hit hard.”
The side of her mouth twitches minutely, as though she is biting back further words, and instead, she plasters on a smile of pure grit. “Our top tier seismology center is already on the case, and the administration will keep you informed of any significant findings. In the meantime, we wish to thank all our rescue workers and volunteer citizens who helped our loved ones find shelter and safety. Please be advised we will begin reconstruction of our Community Housing Facility immediately. Volunteers to assist with this project, and with the restoration of privately owned establishments along Main Street, are welcomed, even encouraged. After a more in-depth assessment, we may be able to create paying job opportunities for the duration of this project. Please stay tuned.”
A constructive spin on this tale couldn’t hurt, could it?
“For now, we wish for you to stay safe. Food and shelter accommodations at the public gymnasium are being made ready for those of you currently left without rooms. We apologize for the communal nature of these accommodations, but it is the best we can provide on emergency notice. We appreciate your patience, and your help.”
And with that closing remark, the feed cuts.
Mayor Drake’s shoulders slide out of their poised position, and she bows her head, hand over her brow.
Behind her, unbeknownst to anyone, the Energem flickers—just once.
On the far side, beneath the cover of the protective wall, a small fissure has formed in the crystal surface.
A kinetic rift.
For more in-depth information about this event and how it affects your character, to ask event-specific questions, and to plot with your fellow players, please visit the event's OOC PLOTTING POST. |
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cuddlemods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
cuddlecity2017-08-12 12:00 pm
no subject
I'm alright. I thought.. [He squeezes Kieren tighter, whispers softly.] I thought it was me, somehow. That I was doing it.
[Then he pulls back, eyes slightly glazed over from the shock of it all. Everything had happened so fast that he hadn't been able to keep up.]
I couldn't find anyone. You're the first person I know is okay.
[Realizing they're surrounded by people, he puts a little space between them, not wanting to embarrass Kieren. He lowers his head, chin to his chest.]
I wish I were more brave.
no subject
[Kieren pulls back and frowns slightly, one of his cool hands slipping up to rest on Credence's cheek.]
Why would you think that?
[He has known for a while something is going on with Credence, but everyone has their own secrets--he can't make anyone tell him anything. Sometimes people just need time.
When Credence pulls back, he wonders if it's because he's embarrassed to be around Kieren, but then he sees the duck of the chin, and realizes it's more that he's embarrassed of himself.
So without really thinking, Kieren reaches out and catches one of Credence's hands in his own, squeezing.]
Hey--I couldn't find anyone, either. And it was right freaky, all right? I don't know what it has to do with bravery. I think everyone was worried over it.
[Something more is going on; debating for a moment, he finally decides to lead them over to the coat he had chosen, to sit them both down.]
no subject
I've never experience an earthquake before. I didn't know it would do so much damage.
[He doesn't think he's being subtle, but he tucks himself a little closer, hoping Kieren will put his arm around him.]
I can show you why I thought it was me.
[He gasps after he says it, shaking his head.]
A recording. When I practice, we filmed it with my phone so I could see myself. It helped.
[Credence pulls the device from his pocket and scrolls through until he finds the video. He balances it on Kieren's knee, leaving the choice to watch it up to him.]
It's.. what I am. The darkness inside of me. Back home it hurt a lot of people, I hurt a lot of people. My friends help me control it now.
no subject
[Both amazing and terrifying.
Kieren does put his arm around Credence, rubbing his arm along his bicep. His brow furrows when the device goes up, and he does watch, pushing the 'play' button.
What he sees--it's chaos. It's something that strikes at the chore of him, because isn't that really, what he is, on the inside?
They just manifest, differently.
When it's over, Kieren is silent for a few moments, then speaks.]
It's part of what you are. It isn't all of you.
You have your friends.
[A beat.]
My meds keep my darkness in. What some would say is my 'true nature'--but they're wrong.
[That's the Undead Liberation Army for you.]
no subject
[It's a light quip, a little bit of sass. Directed at said earth of course.]
My Ma used to say that it was wicked and unnatural. That all magic was. That I was. [That his birth mother had been as well.] You're the first person to say that to me. That it isn't all of who I am.
[His voice goes soft, eyes down.]
There are times when I think it is. That I'll never be anything more than what I've done.
[Credence rests his head against Kieren's shoulder, mimicking the movement of his hand on Credence's arm, on the top of his thigh.]
They are wrong. I.. [He sighs.] It's so easy to tell you that you are more than your darknes. I look at you and I don't see that. You're good and kind and maybe it's in there, but it isn't what I see.
Convincing myself that I'm the same isn't as simple.
no subject
Not even your friend Tina said that? I find that hard to believe...
[Come on, Credence; he bets Tina thinks Credence is more than the some of his parts; just like Amy did of him.]
It's easy to tell me that, because you haven't seen it. I can't show you it because it's too dangerous to even try--there isn't any controlling it.
[He did fight it, once--but that was a rare thing, and he nearly didn't. He isn't sure what would have happened if his father hadn't been there.]
Credence...I've killed people, when I'm rabid. I eat them. I enjoy it.
[Kieren has to be honest about it; it's the core of him.]
It's not something you see, but it's there, just the same. Nothing is going to wash that away, even if I become alive again, and I never have to worry about being rabid.
So I get it; people at home are scared of me...and I know why.
I can tell you you're more than that, because I know the struggle, just like you can tell me.
But we're always our own worst enemy, I guess.
[After all, the person who killed Kieren was no one but himself.]
no subject
[Credence's brows knit together in confusion.]
You say that you've killed people and enjoy it, but that you're rabid when you do it. Does that mean, that right now, you could kill me and like it? The woman over there? Is it because you really want to or is it something that happens to you, whether you want it to or not?
[Credence's tone gets firm, even a little sharp.]
I've seen darkness. My own, others. I've known women who starve and beat children. Men who kill and hurt for power and greed. We get to choose who we are, now. Even if we've done bad in the past.
[He would accept Kieren and all his darkness, because he has it in himself. Credence understands that people aren't all good or all bad, there are layers and that's what makes people unique. He still doesn't believe that Kieren is the same as his Ma or the man pretending to be Mister Graves or the senator and the senator's father or the witches and wizards who killed him without pause.]
Will you let me try to convince you? Is that something you'd permit of me.
no subject
[Tina is right, in every way. He just hopes Credence knows that.
Kieren presses his lips together, letting out a little scoff.]
I don't want to hurt anyone. Not like this.
But the me, the me when I'm rabid--that's different. We ate people to survive--we needed to do so, and that me...that me liked it.
It happens to me, whether I want it to, or not.
[It doesn't change how he felt when he was rabid, though.]
I've seen normal people do horrible things to people who weren't doing anything wrong, just for what they had done, when they hadn't true control.
I know we do...I get to, as well. It's...complicated, Credence. [He smiles sadly, giving a little shrug. But he understands what he saying.
It reminds him of Simon.]
I don't--I don't want to be convinced? I'm okay. I'm okay with who I am, what I've done. Really, Credence.
[It sounds harsh but he doesn't mean it that way; but he just--he's made peace with himself. He isn't always happy with it, but convincing isn't his issue.]
It sounds like you...you were forced into something entirely different, though.
no subject
It is complicated. I want to comprehend what you're telling me. To.. imagine myself in your situation so that I can understand. [He fists his hands in his lap. He doesn't pull away from Kieren but he needs time to figure this out.] It happens to you, whether you want it or not, and you enjoy it when it does. The you, now, doesn't, but that you does.
[He shakes his head, closing his eyes.]
That's not what I mean. I want to be allowed to convince you that it doesn't matter. That you still deserve.. whatever kindness I can give you. No matter what you've done.
[Credence has only told one other person what he's been through and done, and he wants to tell Kieren. He doesn't feel that he'll be judged or pushed away for the horrible acts he's committed.]
Where I'm from, there are people born with magic and some born without. If you're born with it, you're supposed to go to school and learn, but I was missed. [He didn't know how or why.] Th-the way I was raised, I wasn't allowed to do magic. I had to pretend that it wasn't a part of me. As I grew older it got harder and harder. Until one day it happened. It came out of me, it was me. I couldn't stop or control it and it seemed to do the things that I wanted in the darkest parts of myself but would never normally do.
It killed the senator who called me a freak. [Now that he's started, it all tumbles out. Breathy and broken words.] It killed my Ma who beat me and my older sister who let her. It tore up the city and hurt people. I knew what it could do, what it's done, but I let it out anyway. I let it. Nobody forced me to do that. I'm not a good person, Kieren, but I want to be.
no subject
It's more about survival--people enjoy food. I...people were food, to me. Some people, [Including Simon] thought I was supposed to be some messiah, that I was supposed to lead the undead, because we were supposed to be special, better than the living but--we're all just the same. We end up having to try and make choices as best we can.
[He falls silent as he listens to the rest of Credence's story. He doesn't reach for his hands, respecting his boundaries, knowing the other man still needs his space.]
Repressing parts of yourself I think--I think is one of the worst things anyone could make you do. People hate me for what I am, my sexuality, for my PDS--but I refuse to hide any of it, anymore.
I just breeds more darkness.
[He set his jaw.]
I don't--I don't like killing, but my...my friend, Rick? He came back, too. From PDS. And his father killed him. For being different...for being my friend. Sometimes parents are horrible people. The darkness was just trying to protect you. To fight back when you couldn't, right?
Maybe when released all the time, when not bottled up, it won't be so destructive. Because you won't be so angry anymore.
no subject
A messiah? That's a lot of pressure to put on someone.
[Kieren might be capable of holding up that weight, he might not. It didn't matter. Credence didn't find it fair for anyone else to try and tell someone who they were. If Kieren wanted that role, that was one thing, but if he didn't or was unsure, that's another.]
People are afraid of what is different. Your friend's father, my Ma. Cruel because they were frightened. [It didn't make it right, it never would for him, but it was a truth Credence could learn to accept.] It's cowardly.
It shouldn't matter who you're attracted to or if someone is born with magic.
[Credence struggles with his emotions and he can feel that familiar rush, the pressure behind his skin so he leans in and pushes himself abruptly against Kieren.]
I think so. It did what I couldn't and wouldn't do. I'm still so angry. [For himself, Kieren, his friend Rick. All the people like them.]
no subject
It is--especially because it isn't true. I'm not special.
[And the whole second rising thing wasn't true, anyways.
He listens to Credence, eyes widening when Credence pushes up against him; he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around the other man, brushing his fingers into his hair. He was happy that Credence understood. Even though he wishes that he didn't understand in the same way.]
So am I. I don't think there is anything wrong with that.