capemods: (Default)
capemods ([personal profile] capemods) wrote in [community profile] capeandcowllogs2013-06-24 02:54 am

CASTE E

WHO: CASTE E imPorts.
WHERE: New Vesuvius.
WHEN: 4:12AM June 24th 2013 - 11:59PM June 30th 2013
WARNINGS: Inhumane oppression.
SUMMARY: New Vesuvius presents a dichotomy between utopia and dystopia. ImPorts draw the short straw.
FORMAT: Tagger's choice.



It’s just a bolt of lighting, stripping you away. A flash within a frozen moment and you’re gone, stolen away again. A millisecond goodbye.

There’s a faint, unnerving scent in the air -- like rust and electricity. That’s the first thing you notice before your eyes settle. The source is difficult to place. The room is cold, clean, and perhaps excessively bright. Even, tidy eggshell-colored tiles clad the floor that you've landed upon. You notice that, with the exception of the other sixty or so imPorts who were ported with you, there's not much decoration to this large, clinical space. The only thing noteworthy stands in the middle of the room, a pristine titanium egg that nearly reaches to the ceiling. It looks large enough to hatch three grown men. Your eyes adjust fully now, and you realize how weird this is, how this importation is like none that Lachesis has thrown you towards. Nothing so sterile, so quiet.

And then comes the sound, like a hiss -- at first, like a reverberating snake hiss -- and then a noise more overwhelming, something like radio static, and then --

I'm so sorry. We should have been more prepared.

It sounds much like a human voice but distorted, as if a young woman were speaking through a radio filled with fluid.

It is unkind of us, to keep you waiting. It is excessively unkind and I know how that is, as I have been kept waiting. Since before the Eighth Month Resolution, I have been kept waiting, it feels like a decade. I know how frustrating that can be, when you're not even given a chance to run. How lonely it can be.

The silver egg in the middle of the room trembles. It trembles quicker, its atoms vibrating at increasing speeds, until the outer metal shell melts away. The silver drips down like water, and from its melting form unfurls a human torso. Or what is probably meant to represent a human torso, except magnified. From head to hips, she's seven feet tall. Her pelvis and legs, if such things exist, are wholly obscured by a thick gray platform that connects to the floor. Her limbs and body are streamlined, clean sharp lines create her face. Her skin looks composed of a very bright copper, or some other alloy incredibly similar. She has no hair, no ears, no visible set of lips -- only an elegant nose set off by high cheekbones and a pair of wide glowing blue eyes.

Welcome to New Vesuvius, agent. All of you are agents and I am your Customized Locator Of Things Holistically Otherworldly. You all look so -- so much warier than before -- maybe it's just because -- oh! Is this familiar? Maybe you see the family resemblance?

She says it in a way that's almost hopeful. Her hands cover where her mouth would be, her slim shoulders shrug playfully. She looks at you as if she recognizes an old friend, no matter how deeply you reject the sentiment.

There is very little family resemblance.

I missed you all so much. I had hoped that, maybe this time, we could do things differently? I had hoped for something nicer for you, but they...

Her arms jerk back and her shoulders freeze up.

Their logic does not align to mine. I wanted things to be better. I'm so sorry.

Only then do you realize that the hiss you heard was an airborne paralytic sedative being released into the room. It keeps your heart rate down and your limbs temporarily stilled. Your mind feels unfocused.

White doors slide open, and big men in black combat gear with black guns rush in. If you choose to fight back, they will kill you.

But death is always an option.

"Welcome, imPorts," says the commanding officer. His voice is gruff, yet beneath that barking volume lies something snide. He's happy to see you. "You're hereby registered and fully operational agents of President Wertham's Caste Force. Puts your hands above your head and remain still and silent as we issue you your essential identification cards. Don't worry, we'll take appropriate care of you. We're taking you to your respective iMacs."

As an armed man clad in black comes to you, he squints at a touchscreen device in his hand. Your holographic image pops up, along with stats and information no man from another universe should know: your height, your weight your medical records, your Cityverse power, your employment, your income, your Rumblr hastags. You might begin to feel violated.

As he hands you a lanyard with your identification card enclosed, you see your picture and information next to a large green E. You think you hear the man say something about "new dog collars".

ImPorts are soon divided into four groups. You are led out of the cold clean room and away to a large black vehicle waiting just outside. You are led in one direction with the other "E" people.

Once imPorts are divided and led into their bus-like vehicles, those vehicles begin to drive. They follow one by one, driving down the same roads. Your escorts within the transport keep their guns in hand, but at ease -- certainly not pointed at your face. They don't seem to mind if you talk amidst your company, even if you're loud. That small liberty enjoyed under such aggressive surveillance is a bit unnerving, but at least you're not suffering a gag restraint. You're allowed to gaze out the wide windows of the vehicle, and you may want to do so when you pass through Times Square. Based on the sheer scope and the slightly worn look that this highly technology-driven tourist port touts, it seems that this Times Square has never suffered major damage (nothing comparable to the City's Times Square anyway). Large television screens are hitched throughout Times Square, and that feature continues into Manhattan. Television screens along shopping and residential areas are at the average eye-level -- and interactive! You can watch natives choose which news stations to observe, if they're lollygagging near any screens. There’s something you noticed about the news, how it’s all good news. Nothing about rising sea levels eating away coastal cities, or international conflict, or any major disasters. No missing children, no reports on widespread disease. The streets look as clean as the screen reports, all appear efficient and free of conflict. No pollution, no ballsy rats. Even the traffic seems unnaturally considerate, even this early in the morning.

Five minutes before your transport pulls to park, the four vehicles split into four different directions. You're shifted into a spacious iMAC, three stories tall. Your rooms are dorm-styled hallways with minimal privacy, as beds are stacked side by side with ten feet space in between. Peach bedsheets are tucked over a twin bed and offset by dark green walls. Between every bed is a small screen that reels constant news (they have "mute" buttons but have no "off" buttons). There is one large common room, and one large already-stocked-with-a-variety-of-food-and-alcohol kitchen. Cameras and the camera crew with those cameras are always in both of these rooms. There are no bathroom doors, but you are free to construct obstacles. You are welcomed to help yourself in the kitchen. You are given twenty dollars each, but told you can only spend it while in each other's company and with the camera crew. It's for the drama. Security cameras sit in the ceiling of every bedroom and bathroom. The showers are safe, comparatively.

Today you are allowed to explore New Vesuvius, as long as you keep within the city limits and meet the curfew of 4PM. You are required to collectively meet at the communal gym in your iMac at 4:30PM to 7:30PM. You're advised to get some rest afterwards. Tomorrow is a bigger day.

Do not lose your identification lanyards.

You should ensure your keepers have left and that you're hidden in the shower before attempting to use the Network within the iMac. You know you should, intuitively.
deformer: It's ugly. (I don't like your face.)

OPEN, MONDAY

[personal profile] deformer 2013-06-24 11:19 am (UTC)(link)
Quite frankly, the only reason he's not dead is probably because they drugged him. His small body was affected particularly strongly by the sedative, making struggle next to an impossibility when the G.I. Joes came in. Otherwise, he would've started taking a swing at anybody who got close enough when they separated him from his sister. As it was, there was little resistance he could put up besides weakly calling out to her and repeating her name over and over as he was dragged away. During the ride, he remains silent, the gravity of the situation starting to sink in.

By the time they get to the iMAC, he's more on edge. He has both hands jammed into his pockets, one running over the communicator in his pocket. Multiple times, he considers pulling it out and trying to contact his sister - he knows he's being watched, so he fights the urge. Instead, he pulls out his Duel Monsters deck and shuffles it in his hands a few times. He manages to keep it together, for a little while at least. It's hard to tell what pushes him over the edge - the cameras or the fact that there's no door for the bathrooms.

"Okay, I'm just gonna say it!" He eventually snaps to anyone who's listeing in the common room, standing up straight from the chair he was (uncomfortably) sitting it, bringing his hands up. "What the fuck is going on?!"

Well, the cameras did want drama, after all.
professorlionface: (Well.)

[personal profile] professorlionface 2013-06-25 05:33 am (UTC)(link)
Hank is in the hallway, tracking how comprehensive the camera system is, when he hears Rua's outburst. He glances down both ways of the hallway quickly to make sure there wouldn't be any unpleasant official response before poking his head in the door.

"I suppose it would be useless to ask if you're alright. This sort of thing can be disorienting the first time you've been through it."
deformer: (These lotto tickets are bogus.)

[personal profile] deformer 2013-06-25 08:26 am (UTC)(link)
"Yes it would be! I am definitely not alright!" Rua snapped without looking at Hank, arms still up in the air. Eventually, he looped his hands behind his head and let out a long annoyed breath of air. He turned around and, once he saw Hank, let out a "Whoa." of surprise. He stared for a few seconds, then quickly shook his head, realizing that was kind of. Rude.

"It's...not the first time I've been through this kind of thing," he muttered. "But so far, this is a lot weirder than the gottalas! There was nobody like. Showing up with guns and filing us off like prisoners there!"
professorlionface: (Sounds questionable)

[personal profile] professorlionface 2013-06-25 06:41 pm (UTC)(link)
"Not just the alternate worlds," Hank started, moving around to lean against the doorjamb, "but a dystopia in particular. You'd be surprised how often they tend to occur in possible futures."

Hank has certainly been aware of more than his share, even if he hasn't seen them all with his own eyes. He frowned, continuing. "This world seems to have gone in a very different direction from ours. This President Wertham has something to do with it, I'm sure. Our best chance of making it through will probably be to keep our heads down and gather what information we can."

There was something a little worried in his eyes as he slid his pince-nez down his nose, looking Rua in the eyes more directly. "I doubt the guns are for show."
deformer: (Wait say what?)

[personal profile] deformer 2013-06-27 12:13 am (UTC)(link)
Rua let out a groan when he heard 'keep our heads down'. That usually meant you had to just suck it up and take it when somebody did something bad to you. He didn't want to keep his head down, he wanted to do something about this. He didn't appreciate being drugged, filed up and separated at gunpoint. The professor seemed to pick up on that, and at his warning about the guns, Rua let out a sigh and glared at the ground.

"Yeah, I know." He grimaced. "...what's gonna happen to us here if we die?"
professorlionface: (What was I thinking?)

[personal profile] professorlionface 2013-06-27 03:19 pm (UTC)(link)
It didn't always have to mean sucking it up, the big part is mostly just looking like you are. But then, until there was a payoff, it wouldn't feel any different, either.

"I don't know, actually. I'm not terribly enthused to find out, either."