BLACKOUT

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Annasiel
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Re: BLACKOUT

Post by Annasiel » Thu Oct 18, 2018 4:07 pm

The abomination by the door's reply did little to ease Chava's nerves. It only served the worsen the feeling of wrongness that emanated from him, augmented by the chaotic scramble of tones and pitches in his stitched-together speech. Keeping the thing in her peripheral, Chava shifted where she knelt, moving beside the injured officer across from Lind. She returned Lind's smile somewhat awkwardly.

"Hello, Lind. You are a good person." That felt wrong to say as well. Not a proper comment in the flow of conversation, contributed nothing to the matter at hand. Certainly a kind comment, a... compliment, was the word, but now was not the time for compliments. Now was the time for keeping the wounded man from dying.

The girl busied herself by following Lind's advice, taking one of his arms -- what was left of his arm -- and lifting it up. The gauze was already soaked, but the blood flow seemed slower now, an ooze through the coarse cloth rather than the gushing drip from before.

"He is losing less blood," Chava said, barely any inflection in her voice. She spoke as one might speak about a peculiar rock, perhaps, or an interesting portrait, not as one would about a dying man. "Less blood is a good thing, yes? It is slower. Less gone from his body."

Movement near the door caught her attention, and Chava glanced over, where a thin newcomer with a blanked out visor was entering the station. By their tone, they did not seem outwardly aggressive, but neither did the monster who had entered prior. At present, she trusted no one in this station, except maybe Lind. Lind was the only one she knew the name of that wasn't terrifying.

"You have asked for all names," the girl piped up after the cop in question had finished speaking, "but not everyone has given a name."

She frowned at him.

"You give your name too."
I look in the water and fear what I see
I know it's no stranger but I know it's not me
My life is a lie that was uttered in jest
If I can't change at all, let me rest

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Re: BLACKOUT

Post by illirica » Sun Oct 21, 2018 1:34 pm

Someone actually answered. The information wasn't precisely useful, as Rian could have surmised everything that the stranger had said just by observation. People often were stupid, though. And they assumed others were stupid. Rian couldn't blame them; usually they were right. The opaque face plate was perfect for hiding Rian's Thank you for the recap of the obvious expression. Helmets were a wonderful invention. Rian's script had locked into the building cameras, but there wasn't all that much to see. It kept watch on the channels anyway, partitioning them off into a mental subroutine in case anything came up.

Rian might have just left it at that and gone exploring (anywhere that wasn't here), but the man's inquiry irked him. Rian glanced over at the addressed party. Selmalite thug. Nice chassis though. Still not the sort of person Rian wanted to be associated with. "We don't know each other," it slipped in an answer to the inquiry, before the Selmalite could do something stupid like pretend they were going to be friends.

The girl kneeling on the floor by the leaking guy (yuck) had a few questions of her own. And some observations. And that's why we state the obvious, isn't it? Because of bad assumptions. "Rate of fluid output slows as less fluid remains in the containment vessel," Rian pointed out. It was a helpful comment, but probably wouldn't be taken as one. That was just one of the many things wrong with people. They didn't appreciate useful information.

Rian hoped the leaking stopped soon. It could run an assessment diagnostic, then, and possibly find out some more information on what had killed the man, once he finished the messy process of dying. Dead bodies didn't bother Ryan. Corpses were easy. People were hard.

Rian had a feeling that the girl wouldn't be too happy if the annoying leaking person became a corpse. She seemed all right. And someone had to deal with leaking people. Otherwise idiots started getting the idea that Rian ought to do it, and that was just not a thing that was going to happen. Rian pulled a few vids on empathy to modulate its tone, then added, with practiced gentleness. "You can call me Rian." The vids suggested that she'd respond better to that than RETKON. "Rian" was more human-sounding.

That's me. Just another human-person. Rian Tavros, your local Neurotic Knight.

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Re: BLACKOUT

Post by UmbraSight » Tue Oct 23, 2018 1:41 am

A tired smile curled Lind’s lips at Chava’s compliment. It seemed a little strange, given all that was happening, but it was nice all the same. “Thank you, Chava.” She said, looking back down as she finished tying off the gauze on the man’s arm. She glanced up as the other woman asked about the man’s blood loss, the amount currently on her shirt was alarming, not counting what was on the table or — so the fact less blood was being lost by the man, even counting the sutures and wrappings was far from good.

Before she had a chance to respond, the newcomer who seemed to be more machine than… man? answered the question. She nodded grimly, her gaze shifting to the officer who said he was going to try to get help from the main station. Could he make it in time? Not likely. Lind reached up and placed her index and ring finger on the man’s carotid artery. Barely anything there at all. She looked back to the officer who had been here when she arrived, “do you have any internal Jager communication network? One that would work during a blackout?” A long shot.

“Or — do you know if you have any blood transfusion bags? Does anyone here know their blood types?” O negative would be too much to hope for wouldn’t it? “Any forensic… thing you can use to quickly check blood types?” Lind asked, her hands slipping into the man’s pockets.

Jager would have the man’s blood type on his issued ID. Or, well, she hoped they did.
//… under her weight the floorboards gave, and she fell into the dark...// Fall of the Aelir Isles, Vol. III

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Re: BLACKOUT

Post by Someguy500 » Sat Dec 01, 2018 4:10 pm

Trace switched gears internally, his shoulders lowering a little in the dim light. "Luca Trace. Should've mentioned earlier, sorry. As for anything I can do to contact HQ or another station short of walking there, it's out, just like everything else." Shaking his head, he looked over the bleeding man on the table again, and a very unbidden thought crossed his mind.

The guy was probably going to die, and he couldn't stop it.

Luca bit his tongue. There had to be something in the first aid kit that could help, maybe a coagulant or a transfusion bag. He found one of the latter, but it was nowhere near enough fluid in this situation and was more suited to a stabbing than whatever the hell took this poor guy's hands off. As he tried to connect it to an open vein, Trace wished for the ability to look his patient up for anything that would help. Blood types, medical history, height and weight, anything. Of course, everything was offline until further notice. He muttered a low "damn" as the bag quickly ran dry, a contrast from the officer persona he'd been putting up.
Annasiel wrote:"She's the type of person that if you slap her butt, she'll slap yours harder."

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Re: BLACKOUT

Post by illirica » Tue Jan 08, 2019 12:08 am

People were strange. They tended to fixate on the things they couldn't change. Case in point right now, the guy who was still bleeding all over the floor. Half of them were sitting there discussing how to save him - which wasn't likely - rather than dealing with concerns that Rian felt might be more immediately relevant than how long it took a body to become a corpse based on the amount of additional fluids ported into it, and at what rate.

Rian glanced back to the outside, where the blinding light had been not too long ago. It could just leave, any time - it certainly wasn't going to save the man, and despite what some said about the Neuros Knights, Rian wasn't really the sort who wanted to put things out of their misery, either. It would rather not be involved at all - but the relevant information was that the man had started leaking somehow, and whatever had caused that didn't seem to be any of the standards.

Rian moved forward, crouching down next to the dying man, keeping its helmet entirely opaque from both sides and just watching through a camera feed - it was easier that way, with a little more distance. Easier to pretend this was just a virtual scenario. More like something RETKON could handle. Yeah. It could do this. "I don't think we have the proper technology for vitality assistance at this time," it pointed out. No one would appreciate that, of course, but that didn't change the truth. "How did this happen? A better set of questions to be asking is how we make sure this doesn't happen again."

Wait, "we?" When did this become a "we?" I don't like people! Maybe not, but RETKON did like mysteries, and this was certainly a mystery. "Did any of you see when it happened, or who or what was responsible? There's obviously been a security breach of some sort."

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Re: BLACKOUT

Post by Snowskeeper » Tue Jan 08, 2019 6:08 pm

Someguy500 wrote:
Wed Oct 17, 2018 3:10 am
"Someone you know?"
"We don't know each other," it slipped in an answer to the inquiry, before the Selmalite could do something stupid like pretend they were going to be friends.
"What, did you forget the Secret Selmie Syborg Society Soirees?" Virtue asked, cutting between pleasantly conversational voice clips rhythmically; the sound pulsed out at the cop(?) with the questions, expressing irritation through cadence rather than tone. 'Trace' was starting to piss him off.

The question wasn't the problem; the amount of effort they were pumping into stopping the dying man from pumping out was what was bothering him. It was a waste. Even if they did stop the bleeding, they'd be carting around a jig-jagged dumbass in a pain-coma until the Blackout ended. Not worth it. Not when you didn't know how long it'd be before essential services were back up. Definitely wouldn't be worth trying to cauterize the stumps with plasma.

Least the helmet-head seemed to get that. Some streetwalker might mistake them for unmodded, if they didn't know what to look for; the balance, the weird head movements, the fucking--helmet... Looked like what some of Virtue's more irritating acquaintances in The Movement in The Clubs, after consuming a few bulbs of The Alcohol, might call a 'reno-job.' Most changes internal. Keep all the walls up, maybe, but give them a nice new coat of paint; take some time to rearrange the furniture. Install kit for a game room, perhaps, or run wiring from the router through the walls. Whatever. No sense in being an elitist prick with shit the way it was now.
"Did any of you see when it happened, or who or what was responsible? There's obviously been a security breach of some sort."
"Some genestitcher's pet freak," Virtue said, sliding into a brassy synthetic monotone. "Did a lot of screaming. Didn't see it deadon. Handiwork's plain enough." Virtue played a soft chorus of booing after the word handiwork. He turned his head towards the other cop--the one soaked in the dead man's blood--to indicate that he might know more.

Steel shit, but this place was turning into a motley; all kinds and varieties of freaks and thugs. Made a lynch squad less likely, though. Pity points for that.

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Re: BLACKOUT

Post by UmbraSight » Sat Jan 19, 2019 11:47 pm

Time. The transfusion bag was time, but if the man kept bleeding at this rate then it wouldn’t grant them much. So long as the blackout was still going they couldn’t contact emergency services, and it wasn’t like they could easily move him while whoever had attacked the officer was still out there. Problems compounded by the fact the station didn’t have any of the tools she needed. She cast her gaze out around the room searching for — what? Anything that seemed useful in the gloom?

She half-listened to Rian and Virtue, a half-formed thought tugging for attention at the back of her mind competing with a helpless knot of hopeless frustration. A gene splicer’s experiment had caused this damage? Lind looked up from the officer to the two modified who were talking.

“Do you know if it had a weapon? His arms- the damage is too clean for them to have just been torn off,” Lind said, “had to be analogue, there was no cauterization of the wound-“

She stopped, the nagging thought in the back of her mind finally slipping into place.

“Plasma blade! Does anyone have one?” She asked quickly, “we can close his wounds with that, it should buy us enough time.”
//… under her weight the floorboards gave, and she fell into the dark...// Fall of the Aelir Isles, Vol. III

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Re: BLACKOUT

Post by Annasiel » Tue Feb 05, 2019 7:29 am

Everyone was talking more now. Chava elected to ignore them, instead focusing on the man. The cold-person was right. Slowing blood was a bad thing, because the less that came out, the less was inside of him. She wasn't quite sure how she didn't realize it before, but now it seemed wholly and undeniably obvious.

Humans are glasses. Break the bottom and the water comes out.

She blinked.

Humans are glasses. They are always leaking water, but never run dry.

No, that didn't seem right. The first one was more correct, more logical, even though the second felt like something undeniably obvious as well. No way for them both to be true, right? The officer, Luca, had found a bag with more blood, but it quickly ran out. Another obvious thought entered her mind.

"Stop the blood before you put more in," she snapped at him, glaring. "Stupid man."

With her previous comment, she was in little position to judge, but again, it just felt... right. Everything felt right.

Except the darkness.

Before anyone could answer Lind's request for a plasma blade, a chill settled over the station, the temperature of the room dropping enough for the windows to fog up. The rapid condensation quickly cleared, but the foggy window remained. Chava stared at it, confused for a few moments, before she realized the fog wasn't on the windows -- it was behind them. In the obscured darkness, something let out a low, guttural shriek.

Bad things come.
I look in the water and fear what I see
I know it's no stranger but I know it's not me
My life is a lie that was uttered in jest
If I can't change at all, let me rest

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Re: BLACKOUT

Post by Quirbles » Wed Feb 06, 2019 1:12 pm

There was a pain in his head that began to throb, rising with intensity alongside each pulse and placing an inescapable ring within his ears. Jacob stepped away from the group, his vision and objective tunneling as he moved to a metal desk at the far corner of the room. He tugged the rightmost drawer handle with his left hand, the small compartment rattling in place without so much as a single nudge; the leftmost drawer handle, grabbed and pulled with his right hand, had a similar result, with the desk pulling a centimeter away from the wall in an arc from Strevian's exertion. Who the fuck puts fake drawers on a desk in a Jagercorp station?

Jacob narrowed his eyes under the crepuscular light, his gaze catching the barely-perceptible glint of a metal object beside the handles. A lock. Of course, of fuckin' course. His gloved hands moved to the files atop the bureau, displacing a stack of manila folders and batting aside a small pencil-holder to find another glint of light in the overbearing darkness. A key. The detective swiped the small metal piece from its place upon the table and quickly inserted it into the left lock, twisting to the right before moving on to the second handle's mechanism and performing the same action upon that. Every action was concise, hastened with the need to save a man's life.

Strevian pulled open both drawers and rooted around the desk's contents, moving aside pencils and small eraser packets to procure a softly-glowing pen from the depths of the rightmost compartment. A bioluminscent pen, designed to make any written word readable under a blackout; they'd been entering the mainstream as the periods of complete darkness became more and more prevalent. The detective pulled a notepad from the inside of his jacket pocket, flipping to a page he hadn't written on— and given the unreadable nature of the paper, it was more of a guess than an accurate assumption. Any mentions towards his person in current conversation were ignored, his attention centered upon what he was currently doing above all other considerations.

Station number, station number...

Jacob grabbed one of the manila folders and flipped it open, scanning the first file he was able to lay eyes on and copying down the letters and numbers at the top of the report. Good. Once he got to the paramedics, he'd be able to tell them the station and wash his hands of all this bullshit. Part of him felt like lying, saying that he dropped the man off and simply left— which he did do, in a way. Would certainly cut out a large portion of the bullshit questioning, but if they so much as thought he was lying...

The detective finished writing and flipped the notebook shut, looking back to see that a walking television set had joined the list of the new arrivals. The pen and notebook were shoved into the inside of his jacket; in its place, a lighter and pack were procured from the outside pocket. A single cigarette was pulled out, lit, and placed between chapped lips with a single, fluid motion as Jacob moved to the exit of the station, blowing out a small plume of smoke through his nostrils as he gave a sigh.

"I'm going to get help." The detective muttered in passing, not intending to return. Something in his gut made him feel queasy. Fuck. He could barely see two feet out the God-damn door, too. The change in temperature was ignored, given the heavy layers upon his person.

"A little bit of smog won't do shit."

The shriek, of course, might have, but he'd seen enough shit in his day to be apathetic. Hope for druggies, junkies that were tweaking in the middle of a Blackout. Don't think about what cut off the cop's hands like slices of bread— think about simpler things.

Strevian took another drag from his cigarette, stepping out into the dark of the outside and taking out his lighter before flipping the top open, sparking a soft red flame to illuminate his surroundings as he began to hurry towards the nearest hospital. Memory would guide him. Hopefully.

This is why I fucking drink.

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Re: BLACKOUT

Post by illirica » Sun Feb 24, 2019 2:34 pm

The cameras went dark. That wasn't good.

No, it wasn't the cameras that had gone dark, Rian realized. The cameras were just fine, it was just that the room had gone dark. Didn't these devices have a night vision mode? Of course they didn't, that would have been far too convenient. It would have meant things were going right for a change, and things never went right out here. The only time things ever went right when was when Rian was sitting at home in its apartment pretending that the rest of the world didn't exist. Rian was pretty good at pretending, but not good enough to do it right here, in this room with all these other... people.

Rian still didn't like people. It wasn't the active hatred, it was more of a case of thanks, but I'd rather not. Sometimes, of course, people decided to do really stupid things, like the one who apparently thought that going out into the blackout where people were dying was a good idea. "Wait, don't-"

It would have been good advice, but the man hadn't stopped to hear it, and Rian wasn't about to go out there after him. Of course, Rian wasn't thrilled with the situation in here either, what with the blackness and the sudden change of temperature, and something screaming back there in the dark. Someone, maybe? Rian wasn't sure if that was an improvement or not.

Hopefully, it wouldn't come to some sort of fight. Rian didn't like combat. It was too much like interacting with people. Internal computer based combat was fine - hacking, viruses, trojans... Rian was more than at home with those things. This close, in the dark, people nearby and getting their fluids all over the place, though? That was definitely not Rian's forte.

It was still going to fight if it came to it, though, because fighting might have been an unfavorable outcome, but it was much less unfavorable than being the next one lying on the floor leaking fluids all over the place. After all, that one woman might try to touch it. Yuck.

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