hadriel_logs | Event Log: The Stampede

Entry tags:

Event Log: The Stampede

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for Stampede event
Where: All over the city
When: December 26th-December 28th
Warnings: None

There's a rumbling sound in the air early in the afternoon on December 26th. Whether you're new in town or you've seen it all, something like this hasn't happened before. Is it an earthquake? It feels kind of like a small one, and that might be endurable if not for the sudden snarling and gnashing of teeth!

As it turns out, these yet-unnamed apex predators are overrunning the city, ignoring their previous apprehension to barrel right through anything- or anyone- that stands in their way. Seemingly spooked by something, they are aggressive and violent and won't hesitate to tear anyone they meet to pieces... after trampling them underfoot, of course. They're so large and muscular that they may even take a few portions of buildings with them- how would you like to see one of these monsters crashing through your living room?

At least it's only these weird mammoths, though... right?

► This log covers December 26th-December 28th.
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[One advantage to being an android is that although he can register scents, unpleasant ones don't exactly cause the same inherent, visceral reactions they might in humans or some other species. It's just data that he notes and files away, unimportant to him at the moment, especially while watching Ephemera and silently thinking it's very annoying not being able to see through his helmet.

But the flamethrower retracts, and that's something, even if it's obvious he can deploy it pretty quickly. Fire doesn't really scare Connor, having little to no experience with it, but it is very effective against androids and it's worth noting as a threat.]

The animals? They're the same ones that have been on the outskirts of the city since we arrived. I'm not sure why they've begun to stampede, however.

[Something must have prompted it, right?]

[ Normally he'd blame the gods, but things are a little different now. Ephemera exhales sharply and runs a perimeter scan with his HUD. Lots of movement, though nothing too close to them. Yet. ]

Nothing good, given our luck.

[ He wonders if they're running from a larger, more dangerous predator. That's a worrying thought. ]

You have any scanning capabilities? My HUD's limited to structural analysis.

[Connor's fine blaming the gods anyway; they can deal. He frowns just a little at the response and the question, but he activates his scanners to sweep the area anyway.]

I do, but there's nothing of note within the immediate vicinity.

[He has a limited range, after all, and the buildings also block him from picking up anything past them.

But speaking of the buildings, the one he'd been on top of catches his attention and he considers it--and the damage to it--for a moment.]

I'm surprised it didn't cause itself any harm from such a heavy impact.

Motherfucker.

[ Ephemera knows exactly nothing about animals, but he's fairly certain they don't up and decide to go crashing into solid-ass buildings for no reason. Means they're either mad as hell or scared. Neither option bodes well for them. Sure, he'd probably survive getting run over and chewed on, but he's got armor. Not everybody does.

Though Connor has a point. Ephemera tips his head back, eying the building. ]

It probably took some damage. Didn't look like it had armor. But it might not've felt a thing, if it was running on adrenaline or just really pissed off.

[ Which is. Worrying. ]

Or if it simply doesn't feel pain.

[Probably an unlikely possibility for an organic organism, but definitely a possibility. No reason to assume life on this planet is like life somewhere else.]

Maybe. Doubt the fire would've spooked 'em then, though.

[ Could be dosed on something, though. He saw weirder during the war. ]

Look. I'm armored up, you're not. You wanna get in the middle of this, that's your business, but you're gonna get smashed to bits.

[ He jerks his head, working his jaw. ]

Don't. Drake wouldn't like it.

[He could argue that fire would spook an android even though they don't feel pain, but he'll keep that information--all parts of it--to himself for now. Instead, he fixes Ephemera with a dubious look, feeling an emotion somewhere near annoyance but not quite at the entire string of comments.]

We just discussed that one ran into a building, so you have no reason to assume armour would stop it. It's also an assumption to say that I'd be destroyed if I chose to deal with any of them.

[An assumption that he doesn't appreciate.]

I'd survive it. [ It's said plainly, a statement of fact rather than a boast. Ephemera's been hit harder with worse and walked away. Not always in one piece, but he lived. It's his superpower. ] Whatever. Do what you want.

[ His voice is going sharp again, distant. It's harder to deal with other people right now. To hold still long enough to think of the right words, the ones that won't start a fight because most of Ephemera really just wants to start something. Chase the clarity of real violence, where everything is simple and makes sense. But that's not right. He promised Drake he wouldn't do that anymore.

Breathe, asshole. ]

Just. Don't die. Drake wouldn't like it.

Of course. Nothing unexpected could ever happen.

[Ugh, humans and their arrogance. He hears the shift in tone and notes it, making sure to keep his guard up just in case, especially because his first inclination is to be very snappish in response; he's constantly stressed in Hadriel, especially with the colder climate, and it comes and goes in how at the forefront of his mind it is. Currently it's pretty up there, irritation at the conversation and his inexperience at handling emotions in general causing a cascading effect that he has to work to control.

He doesn't do a great job, but what comes out is at least better than what he wanted to say.]

I don't have any intention of dying, so you can stop your blatant attempts at manipulation.

You're a little shit, you know that?

[ He says it almost fondly. It reminds Ephemera of himself from back in the day, a little. Before he knew who he was.

Yeah. He can see why Drake likes this one.

Ephemera unscrews a component from his gauntlet and throws it at Connor without checking to see if he's ready or not. Connor's smart, he'll figure it out. And the shield should keep him in piece against pretty much anything this planet can throw at him.

Not like Ephemera needs it right now. ]

I want that back when this is over.

[He can't really argue with the first comment, though it does add to his confusion over what some humans find endearing while others get angry about. Obviously it depends on the human, and he knows of course that people don't all react the same way, but that doesn't help in finding the actual pattern.

But that's an issue for later, and he easily catches the item thrown at him in his left hand as his sensors alert him to the motion. He immediately furrows his eyebrows at it in fascination, resisting the sudden urge to both try interfacing and to just press whatever buttons might be available, instead asking--]

What is it?

[He doesn't think it's something dangerous, but still.]

Light shield. Hook it to your wrist, then move like this to activate.

[ He mimes in demonstration. How the shield really works or what it's powered by is beyond him. Truthfully, Ephemera never asked. At the time he hadn't cared. He'd been going by the other name then. Killing Freelancers had been more important.

Things are different now. He's made them different. ]

Haven't met a thing it couldn't stop.

[ So Connor will be fine, whatever happens. It's almost like having armor. ]

[He watches, a little suspiciously, but mostly because he's confused by the motivation here. The shield sounds useful, but--]

There are other people who need it more than I do.

[So many delicate, squishy humans here. Although speaking of, Connor might actually just loan the shield to one of them in turn if Ephemera insists on him keeping it; that'll satisfy Connor's pride and also help protect someone he cares about.]

Do what you want.

[ Everyone else in Ephemera's circle either has magic or enough firepower to hold their own. He's not worried about them. But other people - yeah.

Connor's angry. Suspicious. Probably wondering what Ephemera's game is.

Good. He'll live longer that way. ]

I get it back when this is done, or I'm gonna be pissed. Understood?

I didn't request help. If you're that concerned about getting it back, take it.

[And he holds it out to punctuate his words, the response perhaps not the most mature but definitely more so than his initial desire to ask Ephemera if he really thought Connor cared if he'd be angry. So better a small improvement than none, right?]

[ Connor's all sass and backtalk. Spoiling for a fight. Ephemera tips his head back and laughs softly. God, he remembers what that was like. Might as well strike first because there's going to be violence in the end, right?

Oh, he'll learn. He'll survive and wise up. ]

Not what I said.

[ He'll come back for the shield when it's time. Otherwise, why not see what Connor will do with it? Despite himself, Ephemera's curious. Ephemera gives Connor a vague wave and turns, surveying the rubble. There's more work to be done. ]

You'll be fine.

[He doesn't quite consciously realize it--introspection is difficult for people who have years and years of practice, let alone someone a few months old--but Connor's had so little control over his life that he's now fixated on keeping it, even in something as simple as a conversation. Being unable to predict and steer a discussion or interaction is distressing, and anger is the easiest way for that to manifest.

This entire encounter has just been a mess of confusion and floundering for him, and at the dismissal he has a momentarily intense urge to just pitch the shield right into the back of Ephemera's helmet. It's not like it would hurt Ephemera or likely damage the shield, and it seems like something that would be incredibly satisfying to do, but instead Connor clenches his jaw and reminds himself that it's a lot more useful to keep it. It's not like like he has to, he's choosing to.

But the decision to go with practicality, even as his own choice, isn't really making him feel better for some reason. Not for the first time, he regrets developing the ability to feel emotions.]

I've been telling you the entire time that I'd be fine.

[Shield or not. But fine--]

Come find me when you want it back.

[He'll put the work on Ephemera, and he'll feel satisfied with that. Theoretically. It isn't actually working.]

[ Ephemera just hums to himself, and walks away. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Event Log: The Stampede

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