cuddlecity | EVENT: SHAKE THINGS UP.

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EVENT: SHAKE THINGS UP.

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

i. come with me if you want to live.
[robbie's no stranger to earthquakes. east los angeles might not be right on top of the san andreas fault, but he's definitely felt the ground rumble for reasons other than daisy johnson having a bad day™. he's working out at sucker punch (it's leg day and much as he hates it, he never skips leg day,) when the earthquake rips its way through main street. at first he figures it's nothing major, a practical joke by none other than his friend and the one person he knows from home who is here, but when the screams of citizens trickle in his ears, robbie knows this isn't all fun and games. there's something serious going on, and if he doesn't do anything about it, people will actually get hurt. the prudent thing to do would be to head away from the rumbling.

but that's not robbie. he heads straight toward the danger, hopping into his charger without a second thought, and burns rubber as he heads toward main street. he drives around, eyes darting all across the road looking for people who need a way out. he spots someone looking rather frantic, face pale under the faint glow of street lamps. robbie slams on the brakes just a few feet away and leans over to open the passenger door.]

Hey. Hop in and I'll get you out of here.

ii. i can fix it.
[fade in to robbie reyes clad in a white ribbed tank, faded blue jeans, and a very necessary pair of clubmasters. the practical wardrobe probably should've been a pair of coveralls, but the weather is warm, and robbie's sweaty from helping clear rubble. he's taking a much needed break for the moment, heading toward a cooler filled with ice cold bottles of water. he pulls one from the cooler, dumping half its contents on his head before he drains the rest.

he wipes his face off with the bottom of his shirt, running a hand through his hair. it's then that he notices that a short line has formed behind him and he's (more than) kind of in the way. he has the decency to look a little sheepish as he cracks the cooler open again and offers a beverage to the next person in line.]

Sorry about that. It's way hotter than I was expecting. Drink?

iii. wildcard.
[want a custom starter, or have something else in mind that you want to run by me? swing by my thread at the ooc plotting post or contact me via plurk]

[Hux is still gripping onto his cocktail, and he does not look frantic just--...concerned. There is a difference, thank you very much.

And he is very concerned about this car that comes to a stop so quickly near him. He frowns and leans down, eyeing the other man suspiciously.]

Getting into a stranger's car, when they are driving irresponsibly on unstable roads after such an incident?

Why do you think this is safe?

[He isn't saying no.

He just is suspicious(tm)]

[exasperation greets hux in return. robbie is most definitely not driving irresponsibly. he's in perfect control of his vehicle, thank you very much.

a voice in his head growls about how he should just leave him be. he doesn't need to deal with this, could just leave hux and offer his services to another of the countless people who are trying to seek safety. robbie blinks, taking a deep breath as he mentally fights against the loud, unwelcome opinion in his head.]

I've never gotten a ticket or been in an accident. I'm offering to take you to safety. You really gonna look a Good Samaritan in the face and turn him down?

[Yes.]

No, that is not what I'm doing, but considering how unsafe everything is, I think it's wise to getting in cars with strangers who may be driving unsafe as well.

[He is going to point that out, again. And yes, Hux would be the guy to give Robbie a ticket at some point.

Still, letting out a pained breath through his nose, he finally starts to move towards the car.

Hux needs to get out of the area, and really, it is better than nothing.]

This sort of technology is so antiquated...

[Sorry, he's having some PTSD issues, Robbie. It's showing in complaining. He gets into the car, and closes the door.]

With a few notable exceptions, we're all strangers here. [again with the doubting about his driving record, hux. let it be known that cadelle is probably better off without hux functioning as local law enforcement.

robbie takes the insulting of his beloved car mostly in stride, so what if his eyes glow orange for a brief second and it sounds like his car's engine revs a little louder even though robbie isn't doing anything.]

I think you mean that it's a classic.

[now that the whole will he or won't he be taking a ride from a stranger debate has been settled, robbie shifts back into gear, driving them away from the rubble that litters the main drag. he steers clear of a series of large holes in the road. hux should be able to notice that he's driving considerably slower than earlier, whether it's because he's genuinely concerned about their safety or if he's just trying to give hux less to complain about is up for debate.]

You have anywhere specific you want me to take you toward, or is away from ground zero good enough for you?

[Hux scrunches up his nose slightly looking over the car as they are driving, but refrains from putting anything in his tone that would be disdainful. He needs to behave.]

For your world, perhaps. Where I come from, our transports rarely have wheels--they hover. That is what I meant by antiquated. [It wasn't to insult his car in particular. Just that he is not used to technology here, in general.]

Away is fine. I suspect the housing developments aren't safe ground currently.

[A beat, then--]

I...appreciate the ride.

My name is Hux.

Can't say I've seen anything that just hovers used for going to the grocery store. I could maybe some sort of pet project by someone with a lot of time on their hands.

[robbie's intrigued by the concept of vehicles that sound nothing like those from home. wonders what it might take to get his hands on one to take apart.

but he doesn't dwell on his thoughts for long, as hux is finally introducing himself. the least he can do is follow suit.]

You're welcome, Hux. I'm Reyes. Robbie Reyes.

I doubt the technology here is advanced to even do it; however, I know the schematics to create a simple engine for it. If you wanted to attempt, I would be willing.

[He misses his hoverbike, in truth. And talking about this is a lot more pleasant than thinking about what just happened, and the shaking ground.]

Which name do you prefer to be called?

[People here tend to be so casual, but Hux always asks.]

The science is probably over my head, but an engine's an engine. Can't hurt to try.

[It's definitely better than thinking about how they're going to fix this mess, or if it's even fixable. Focusing on building something from scratch gives him something to look forward to once they're in the clear.]

Robbie works.

robbie reyes ▸ota

I

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ii

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▸dos, papi.

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