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.
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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
( He's so careful with her that it threatens to steal her breath. She doesn't want to think too much about it, the list of people she's allowed close like this is small, and it's been getting smaller in recent years. Daisy has to close her eyes, letting out an exhale that shakes, though hopefully Robbie will attribute it to the pain and not a mix of what it is.
She's tired. She'd kind of hoped she wouldn't be this tired here. )
Would you teach me?
( Opening her eyes again, Daisy tests the bandage but it's pretty good, it'll keep her from causing any more damage. ) I've always wanted to.
no subject
he's quiet for a moment until daisy's eyes fly open again. he breathes, a long series of deep inhales and steady, hot streams on the exhale.]
Yeah. I'll show you how. And if the waves aren't great for surfing, we can always swim.
no subject
( It sounds like a late start, but she didn't have that many guiding hands in her life. Daisy isn't ashamed, at least not anymore. The life she's lead belongs to her, she can't change it. She wouldn't either. Probably, she doesn't mean to babble but if pressed she'll blame pain and exhaustion for it.
It has nothing to do with her trust for Robbie.
Nothing. )
no subject
[there's no hint of judgment or malice in his voice. robbie genuinely likes talking to daisy. about all sorts of things. enjoys listening to her talk too.
it has absolutely nothing to do with how he feels about her.
nevermind that he's not much of a talker or a people person.]
no subject
( She smiles, and it's soft. Daisy knows a little of Robbie's past, and she kind of gets the impression he's divined some of hers. At least he probably knows she's got demons dogging her that far back. )
Turned out he was an asshole though, so I threw all of his clothes off a cliff. He had to walk back to the nearest town completely naked while I enjoyed the delicious, delicious revenge.
no subject
he gives her a gentle prod in the arm and shakes his head.]
Remind me to never piss you off.
no subject
( Because she is not blind, and she doesn't think anyone else here is either. Robbie's a very handsome specimen of man and he's going to be the talk of the town soon enough, she knows it. )
Maybe that'll help me win some favor back, actually.
( Eyeing him speculatively before she laughs, shakes her head, tests the bandages he's applied. )
no subject
[because like hell would he actually be caught dead in the nude and not make good use of the whole head lights on fire thing.]
You wouldn't dare...
[he narrows his eyes as he stares at her, until she laughs that is, which sets him at ease at last.]
no subject
( No, she wouldn't do that to him.
All patched up now, Daisy's finally losing the remnants of her adrenaline rush. It makes her look soft around the edges, sleepy eyed with her slumped shoulders. She knows tomorrow she'll be in a world of pain and there won't be much she can do about it, considering there's going to be a lot of cleanup. )
Are you staying here tonight?
( She knows he might choose to go sleep elsewhere. Too many people, too much noise. )
no subject
I'm gonna have to decline that offer, tempting though it may be. Heal up and we'll reconsider at a later date.
[he hasn't really thought about what he'd like to be doing for the evening. but the idea of staying here, even if he'd like to keep an eye on daisy's progress is unsettling. it's one thing to live in a dorm style apartment building. it's another thing entirely to partake in communal housing. no matter how temporary that may be.]
Not sure, honestly. I kind of want to just crash in the charger. Leave a cot for someone who literally has nowhere else to go.
no subject
( Because a prank war isn't really a prank war if she gives him forewarning, right? At his response to her question though, her eyes go soft. She doesn't blame him. There are too many people wandering around. )
You'll text, if anything else happens?
( She won't know, is the thing. That's going to bug her until the end of time. )