❛ — DICENDUM [lit+] o/a 3f 4m

[Taka tashimaru]

AND WE'RE OPEN~!

[In Desolation]

☆☆☆ The shining sphere that was Centrum Hall was lit by glass panels, reflective surfaces, and solar power. Natural light saved energy during the day. Rotating windows allowed air from the cool side of the building to flow throughout in the evening. Time was six. According to the wristlet projector on his forearm. They were an hour away from the inauguration.

tab All eyes would be on her. After so long, they had been on them. All. Day. Long. Was their relationship a novelty? Was he a pet? Did it mark her reputation? Or raise his? Nasty humor flooded his thoughts. Or just nasty thoughts about people in general. In frank, he hated the attention. Where it was directed. Where it wasn't. No one cared that they loved each other. There was only one focus of the digital tabloids. She was nobellum. She was future Center. And he? Some prime guard. A nobody

☆☆☆ At the moment they were separated. Briefly. She was out there somewhere being pampered, powdered, and greeted. London would've preferred to stay by her side, but he had been disrespected and ignored one too many times. They weren't attached at the hip. She had her own life outside of his she had to live. As if she didn't always before. London didn't know everything about her. Bellum worried him. He was always thinking about her

tab London tapped and dragged some projections on his arm. Dictating text messages and voice reports. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Scanners clear. Are monitors fully functional? No issues. Confirm. Last maintenance check fifteen minutes ago? Confirmed..." Constant communication between other guards. It kept him busy. All primes were monotonous and droll. They were taught uniformity in school. The tonal values of their voices were part of training. It was not the voice he used to speak with Bellum.

☆☆☆ He quickly, softly sent her a note through her private line. Whether it was through an earring or an implant, even he wasn't aware. "I love you. Is everything alright? Where are you? Let's meet back up." Location tracking was exclusive to valids and secondaries. Therefore curfews and checkpoints were enforced the heaviest upon the lower class. He as a policeman, a guard, was constantly updating his location and status. Primes were monitored. To his knowledge, primes weren't stalked. They did the stalking. If he was around the corner from Bellum now she wouldn't be surprised to find him there

tab He was wearing the formal occasion variant of the prime guards' uniform with a visor across the eyes, white shirt, three silver stars in the usual place, highly visible, with a chest holster equipped with a long range electriarm* over the shoulder and a short range electriarm in the front. London wasn't unique in his appearance. But he was seemingly wilier. His dark blue eyes flitted from projection, to monitors, to passers by, to the windows. He was foxy. From the angle of his shoulders, his relaxed posture, to the way he crossed his feet as he leaned on walls


☀ WWWW&H [*el-le-tree-arm. Electric gun. Standing around somewhere inside Centrum Hall. Not far from Bellum?]
☂ OOC [Plotting? Planning? ]


Infinite Owls

[Infinite Owls]

Posting Color = #618783, Thoughts = #977959, People = #BE99B0, Pallet

Frozen the platinum blonde sat at her desk; the light repetitive thumping of her heart echoing in her ears as her mind was the only active thing about her. If you walked into Bellum’s office you would think she died staring at a wall with how stiff she appeared. Instead of death washing over her like it should have years ago she was taken over by anxiety and nerves; drowning in their embrace as it began to hit her that she would be officially leading a country in only two more hours. The task never felt this daunting before; hell she was more than excited throughout the duration of her campaign than she was now. The girl who was typically known for her unwavering confidence started to doubt every plan she had conceived throughout the course of her political career as they suddenly felt like they didn't meet the right standards.

The girl was so lost within herself that she didn’t even hear her stylists walk into the room, coming to work on their new leader and make her look like the powerful, beautiful woman she designed herself to be. Without uttering a single word she let them get to work, trusting them enough to know what they were doing as she had to sort through her own concerns to bring herself back to operating standards. Where was London when you needed someone to ease your mind? Thinking about that man right now was not really helpful considering the fact that this move up would have an impact on their relationship. Not only would it put them more in the public eye which he did not like, but it would also bring more negative attention to them since being a nobellum married to a prime was not common and therefore seen as defective. Ever since Bellum made their marriage a public event they have received a mix of positive and negative feedback from both the public and Bellum’s own peers, of course she calculated the impact it would have but her focus was on changing the notion that classes could not mix.

“So today is your big day” a new, more familiar voice entered the room out of the blue, one that caught enough of Bellum’s attention that she actually turned to look at the new body. Her piercing blue eyes took in the five foot six blonde look-alike who she knew as her mother, Hera, before her blank, freshly painted expression turned up into a pleased smile. “Look at you! You look so wonderful!” her mom cheered with her soft chirpy voice, letting out a small giggle as she went to embrace her daughter.

“You don’t look too bad yourself” Bellum responded teasingly, finally breaking her streak of silence as she watched her mother sit across from her. The look her mother possessed quickly became a little bit alarming as she could feel what her mother was about to say next. It would be something that the stylists would hate since they would have to redo her makeup in order to retain the desired look they were working to achieve. Hera had always been a sentimental woman that was proud to watch her daughter grow past the tragedy they suffered, and never could help but bring up Bellums father when she went through an important life achievement. Bellum could never forget her sixteenth birthday when her mom told everyone at the party the story about her complicated birth and how her father stayed up for an entire week trying to keep her alive; understandably it turned the entire room into a sobbing mess which ended up ruining the rest of the party, but that was just how Hera was.

“I know what you’re going to say” Bellum stated as she watched the woman’s lips part only to close back up. “Please, I have a lot to think about tonight, I don’t want to lose the speech I have prepared because I was too busy crying to practice” the girl smiled softly and let out a small laugh to make things seem fine. Her mother nodded in agreement and shrugged with a small smile; there was always time after the festivities were over to make her daughter cry after all.

“You have always been able to read me like a book” Hera responded with a light sigh, her eyes moving behind her daughter to the world outside the dome.

Bellum could see that her mother wanted to say something more, but a wonderful voice piped up in her ear causing her to put her hand up so her mother wouldn’t interrupt. “I love you. Is everything alright? Where are you? Let’s meet back up.” London’s voice was like something else entirely to the blonde, it was so smooth and so lovely to take in. Not too sweet where it was repulsive but also not too rough on the ears either.

“I love you too; I am with my stylists and my mother right now. I should only be a few more minutes then I will be able to find you” she responded by tapping the earpiece that wasn’t quite visible. As much as she enjoyed the company of her mother, London was someone she looked forward to seeing since they really didn’t get much intimate time together.

As if on cue the stylists stood the woman up and changed her out of her regular clothes and into a very stunning, figure-fitting dress and heels to make her a bit taller. It really did take only a few more minute for the crew to finish up their masterpiece and for Bellum’s mother to cry.

“You’re worse than me!” for some reason it put Bellum at ease to watch her mother cry; it was like some strange confirmation that if she wasn’t the one to break down first then she was strong enough to handle running a country. An odd rationalization, but at least it was something to keep her grounded for the time being. “I’ll see you at the after party ok? I really need to meet up with London” she told the woman before giving her a kiss on the cheek and turning to her stylists. “Take care of her; you may want to fix her up a bit when she is done. She is going to be sitting behind me which means she is going to be on camera, we can’t have her look like a grieving lost mother to an entire nation of people” with that she turned back on her heel and left the room, hoping she didn’t come off as rude to be leaving her crying mother. Bellum just didn’t have the time to sit around and console her, she had only an hour left and for thirty more or less minutes she wanted to spend what time she had with her darling husband. Normally she wasn’t this needy for his company, but she typically wasn’t losing her mind either so she made an excuse this once for her needs.

London wasn’t too far from the office, which wasn’t terribly surprising since she knew he preferred to be close. He wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to her while she was in the care of some other guards and he wasn’t even in the vicinity to make a difference; It was flattering to say the least. He was so handsome in his formal uniform; it added to the intensity of his typical look and always distracted the girl from her usual tasks when he wore it.

Greeting him with a warm, gentle kiss and a long hard embrace Bellum could feel her troubles dance back inside of her, reminding her that she was a horrible person that he didn’t deserve. She kept her thin arms wrapped around him for a few more second than she normally would have before her hands played with the stars in his uniform. “I’m sorry it had to be me” she whispered softly, guilt sprinkled in her words as her sorry contained so much behind it that London would never be made aware of. “You deserve someone who can give you the life you want, rather than living in their shadow and becoming their arm candy”








ａ ｂ ｃ ｄ ｅ ｆ ｇ ｈ ｉ ｊ ｋ ｌ ｍ ｎ ｏ ｐ ｑ ｒ ｓ ｔ ｕ ｖ ｗ ｘ ｙ ｚ
◖ ｏｏｃ→ Its kind of a mess, but I still kind of like it, hopefully I can showcase Bellum's bad assery soon, I figured this would be more of an emotional "oh ********" time for her anyway. ◗
◖ ｃｏｍｐａｎｙ → London ◗
◖ ｌｏｃａｔｉｏｎ → Around her office ◗


In Desolation

[Crocodylus]

→SYDNEY ARGYROS←
tab Urbem today had heightened security, so Argus could travel in a regular car on the train with a mixed crowd. The inauguration of a new Center happened only every ten years and although one Center could serve multiple terms, this time instead of an old timer- a new, prettier face was coming into power. Megalev trains everywhere were thicker than they were at typical rush hours, the crowds bumped together whenever there was a stop or a departure, and somehow still Argus managed to breathe. It was probably because he was a council member and nobellum were given seating priority on public transport. There was even a separate car for nobellum, but it looked crammed full of snobs who didn't love him or respect him as much as the lower class.

Argus was one of the few nobellum who visited the neighborhoods of valids and secondaries, the proletariats and the bourgeois, taking time out of his week to participate in their daily routines and share the work. The great Argus had been a part of recycling crews, gardening crews, and garbage sorters. He had worked in greenhouses, crops, fields, and even harvested. There were no displays of false intimacy with the people by having dinners at their homes and photo shoots of him shaking hands with children. Rather, he worked shifts at their factories for the same amount of hours. He substituted and held lectures at their schools. Those who admired him, were impressed by his ethics while those who hated him had yet to find a reason and watched for one to turn up. Argus had done nothing yet to frown at.

His sparkling eyes were like pools of water, clear and bright, the depths through which anyone could see all the way to the bottom. This was no trait that he was oblivious to, for he practiced many hours in front a bathroom mirror to naturalize his eerily pure expression. In a society where imperfections and differences were either eradicated or equalized, facial expressions were key to maintaining individuality.

Actions too, spoke louder than words. So his expressions were loud and his voice was louder. He spoke through his telecommunicator in a volume he used to speak to people from across the room. It didn't matter if it was an Identification Prompter or an actual person. "Yes. Syd-ney Ar-GY-ros. Solum council. Yes? Of course I remember you, Sphen, great to hear from you-- What? No. There are insufficient amount of studies being done. Until it is definitive, until there is enough to make an informed decision-- No, no guessing games. End communication." His voice was clear cut too, like his hair and nails.

His telecommunicator was a chained pocket watch that he answered by touching a ring from his finger against it. There were multiple panels on the face that allowed him to quickly block, redirect, or send busy signals to incoming calls. There were status panels to alert the caller that he was in the shower, on the toilet, eating, in a meeting, or in a noisy environment and color coordinated to show level of urgency. It was a complex, small bit of solar powered machinery that hung from his belt loop. Custom--so only he could use it. He constantly referred to it, depending on the subtle lights and sounds its face displayed. Watches and faux timepieces were a current trend, as were dangling earrings, and other such accessories. Implants and wetware updates did nothing for an individual's need to express themselves and less for vanity.

tab Checking messages on it idly was a way to look busy when he felt lonely or excluded. Official escorts from province to province had not been as friendly as he had hoped. While he was a friend to everyone, Argus had no real friends. The seat next to him was the last seat on that particular 6 o'clock train, and just because most of the people thought it was most polite to give a council member the whole bench, no one had made a move for it since the last two stops.

★ LOCATION [Maglev traaain~! Directly on his waay to Centrum Hall!]
☆ COMPANY [Commuters?]
★ Out.Of.Coffee [Okie, hope I didn't bore anybody!]

[NIGHT TERRORS NOTHING]

✄x✁ Emotions were detrimental to rational problem solving in times of stress. In this age, humans depended more on machines than they did other humans. They put their trust in grids, clouds, in efficiency, in sterile architecture and automated systems. During training, anger was removed from intimidation tactics and sympathy from handling sensitive citizens such as children. There were tasers for the former and psychiatrists for the latter. So, his face had no use for warmth. It was not the coldest face on the force, but it was indiscernible from all the others, slight genetic variations aside. Officials had to be more stoic, not less, than guards. His uniform was not the only thing about him that was official. The way he postured himself and the way he walked between rows, checking citizens at stops while on board was solid, expressing the difference between what is unmoving and what is stiff. Rome Callas was a wall when upholding the law.

✄x✁ At least, for now he was. Humans got on his nerves all the time. Rome was a man without patience and his attitude was reflective of that quirk. Sometimes he stopped conflicts dead before they could start, penalizing citizens for crimes they did not yet commit. Other times, he let conflict explode without warnings and then began tasing without warning. The practice of trying to prevent conflict was not as exciting as letting things happen on their own, as most conflicts were inevitable anyway, and resulted in the wasteful expenditure of his energies. He, like anyone else, was updating status, monitoring updates, scrolling through feeds, and answering messages on a telecommunicator. His was a department issued wristlet that projected an image onto his forearm, programmed to only pick up the unique logarithm of his level voice. "Rome Callas. Train. En route to Centrum Hall. Confirmed. No concerning activities." His cold blue orbs quickly swept every face in the car. He estimated a number. "Seventy-three passengers seated. Confirm. With standing passengers, still not exceeding maximum capacity. Confirm." The maximum capacity per car on the megalev was two hundred.

✄x✁ Rome glanced at the nobellum seated by himself on the opposite end of the car. He went back and forth with a monitor to cross check identity. "Sight. Confirm. Solum. Council Member. Name. Sydney Argyros. Confirm." The number of simultaneous conversations easily drowned out his. If it were not for his white uniform, he would be invisible. The more emotive humans, valids and secondaries, raised and varied the pitch of their voices while his remained steady. ATTENTION... IMMINENT STOP... FIVE MINUTES... DOORS TO YOUR RIGHT... He held onto a stanchion about a meter away from the council member, feet planted shoulder width apart, as the train slowed down. His eyes remained on his forearm. The projection displayed alerts and further status updates from other officers in his vicinity. Once the train reached the Centrum Hall Terminal he was to patrol the outside with other officers.

♠ WWW&W [on the maglev going to centrum hall, escorting a car of citizens coming from the opposite direction, including council member argyros.]
♦ OOC [...]

[Taka tashimaru]

Phenna had always thought that if she were to have to live underground for the rest of her life and live in the pure white glow of artificial lights she wouldn't care. They were clean and didn't cast yellowish pigment on everything light natural light so often did. The only problem was that without the light changing colours with the setting and rising sun she tended to lose track of time. Mostly though, she didn't mind. As long as she was in by curfew, who cared if she missed a meal or too because of work? Certainly not her.

She leaned forward in her desk chair, scanning over the files on her desk. They were reports of bugs found in the building android software. She, along with three others, were put on the project for designing the next advancement in greater civilization technology: inter-planet colonization. The idea had been floating around for years and honestly, the concept was still on the back burner of Viper Tech though they had designated a team for research. The idea was to develop the moon for vacation purposes. Yet another project that would mostly benefit nobellum. There were jokes going around the team, and those who knew of the project, that it would be the nobellum's escape from Earth while the rest of the dicendum rotted and were killed off by the exiles of the Rainwoods and Wastelands. Phenna didn't partake in their conspiracy theories.

Mostly because expanding to the moon would give her even more space to get away from her awful family. This quarter, they started working on the programming that would make specialized androids be able to build the massive air-tight domes that will be required for dicendum life on the oxygen-less planet. It was proving harder than first expected. In theory, the program should be the easiest part of the project. But when one fraction of a mistake meant thousands of lives being cut short, it made it that much harder. There was no room for error.

Viper Tech was different than the other areas of Centrum in that regard. They didn't usually mind mistakes here and there.

But then again that's why Phenna enjoyed the company of her robotic creations more than that of dicendum. They didn't make any mistakes. Not unless there was an error in their coding.

She'd spent hours at her desk now staring at the files and playing around with a simulation program on her computer to test how tweaking things here and there would affect the outcomes. Her mind was laser focused, but a small com. alarm in the corner of her two meter screen snapped her out of her focus all together. She jumped, banging her knee on the underside of the glass top desk, mumbling curses under her breath as her hand tapped the bottom right corner of the screen. "Professor Pax speaking."

A dour man's face appeared on the screen where the simulation program once was. He was graying and wrinkled but he still had the authoritative look of a man in charge. "Mr. Mamushi, how may I help you?" It was a rather unusual name for a dicendum, you didn't hear such ancient family ties anymore. Most families changed their surnames to less culturally binding words at the turn of the era. However the CEO of Viper Tech was required to share the surname of Toshihiro, the founder of the company so many years ago.

"Professor, I have a rather large favour to ask of you, especially on short notice..."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Should she be grateful to have the opportunity to go see the Central Inauguration first hand? Probably. Was she? No.

The last thing she wanted to do was be forced to leave her work and spend three days in uppity Urbem when she had so many other important things to care for back in Lucem. Like staring at her desk for hours on end working on a problem she knew there was no way in space she'd figure out on her own. 'Still you'll be stuck in a crowded city with nobellum for far too long.' she thought to herself as she sat silently on the maglev between a man who was clearly too wealthy for his own good and a little boy who was bouncing so much and humming to himself one of the various popular tunes she was sure so loudly that she wanted to tie him to the outside of the train car.

She was four or five cars down from the engine of the maglev. The train to Urbem was six cars long, the sixth housing luggage. Today, because of the event, the cars were crawling with white uniforms and civilians alike. While Phenna wasn't introverted to the point that crowds made her nervous she did feel incredibly uncomfortable in that moment. Despite the climate controlled conditions it was stuffy. Too many people talking and huffing about. Still, she sat still in her seat, scrolling through the news feeds. Everyone was talking about Bellum Saltator. Yawn. While she would be forced to go to the event, she had absolutely no desire to learn anymore about the new center than need be. She didn't care in the least about this woman's diet or her favourite colour like the rest of the country seemed to.

"ATTENTION... IMMINENT STOP... FIVE MINUTES... DOORS TO YOUR RIGHT..." Was heard over the loud speaker in a monotone robotic voice. The train slowed, then stopped, and after a two second delay exactly, the doors to the car opened with a ptshiiiisssssss. Everyone rose from their seats and filed out of the car into the maglev station. The floors were gleaming and the lighting was soft. The people, were loud and quick moving.

Phenna made her way to the luggage pick up and grabbed her suitcase before leaving the terminal as fast as she could.

The sun was starting to set over the city as everyone was putting their last minute preparations on the venue and themselves for the big event. There was a ceremony and speech to be given in Centrum Hall, followed by a grand gala with dancing, music, and food. Phenna wasn't out to make a large statement. Instead, she made her way to the hotel which looked like it was overflowing with people already. Bodies buzzing in and out of the building constantly. Thankfully Mr. Mamushi already arranged for her stay. There was no way she was getting a room without a prior booking.

After pushing through the crowd, waiting for the elevator, and finally giving up to take the stairs, Phenna made it to her room and dropped her things next to the bed. Just getting inside the hotel was exasperating. Now she was expected to dress up and deal with the crowd just in case something went wrong?

Rumor had it, really Mr. Mamushi's sources in Urbem told him, that the androids due to service the gala were experiencing...minor malfunctions randomly. However because of the preparations for the inauguration there was no time to service them. The on hand techs were supposed to have done enough to hold them for the night, but it was Phenna's job to be an extra professional hand on deck in case. Then, Mr. Mamushi figured since she was already there, she could personally inform the head of the Prism department of experimental science of the set backs they were having on the moon project front in two days time. She also expected that this was a way of forcing her to take a vacation from work.

With a deep sigh she opened her suitcase and began getting ready for the event.


■ talking | ■ thinking | ■ secondary speech

music Heros - Alesso ft. Tove Lo
outfit work
location hotel
company no one
ooc I may have gotten carried away and left it open for no interaction... oops.

[In Desolation]

☆☆☆ London's hands lingered on around Bellum's upper arms. Rubbing the shoulders. Squeezing. Not for the pleasure of the press. The public eye. It was personally reassuring to be able to hold her in one place before they had to start walking again. His hands were cold from the building's air flow. "You're sorry to have me instead of someone else? Rude. I'm hurt." Watching her, his eyebrows quirked as she touched the stars on his uniform. He chuckled as she finished her sentiment and leaned his forehead into hers. "As long as you love me I'll stay with you. Spend every night with you. Wake up beside you every morning until we die. What's more- you'll have good time with a prime." He winked. The other half was 'a nobellum is humdrum'. There was a reverse rhyme in use by nobellums: 'a nobellum has a flagellum' and 'a prime has grime'. More variations and more phrases existed for the amusement of all classes

tab His hands dropped to her waist. "Everyone knows that." And he squeezed again. There was no end to what he wanted to say. Whenever. Anytime he wanted to there were an uncomfortable number of eyes around them taking it in. The superficiality of public image disgusted him. Journalists. They were lurking everywhere. Reporting. Free speech. Practicing the old 'freedom of press to oppress'. It made him happy to be a police officer. He only harassed citizens who deserved it. Law abiding citizens minding their own business deserved their privacy. All those eyes. They looked at his relationship with Bellum as though there was something wrong with it. Something to notice and point out all the time.

☆☆☆ London took Bellum's hand. Still gazing into her eyes. "We should walk. You'll be out of sight until the moment they announce you. You need to be there at least one minute before to walk from curtain to the stage. Don't let go of my hand until you have to." Live symphonies were beginning to stream throughout Centrum Hall. Exterior lighting and all the city's lamps brightened gradually. By the time it was seven, those lights would reach full luminosity and Urbem's radiance would reignite the darkening atmosphere. The heart of Urbem which was in the blue-yellow spectrum during the day turned hot red, orange,and purple at night. Panel projections from his watch shifted to green- the low light setting for night.

tab The alerts kept flipping over his forearm. He checked them once over quickly. His superiors had recommended only an eighth of a percentage more maintenance crews. The vote of all law enforcers was required. Consensus. Unanimous. Conflicting opinions. The weight of all pros and cons were being sorted by many at once. If security was tightened here. It meant another place was loosened. The more people allowed to attend the gala in person then the more security was required. The number of citizen to law enforcer ratio was not to be stretched thinly. He tapped his vote: Not Advisable. Negative. Negative. Affirmative.

☆☆☆ "And according to security, we should walk down the Inner Spiral-" Centrum Hall had an outer and inner path, stairless, a curved ramp, that started from the bottom floor to the top. "Not the elevator. Nothing automated. Security, monitors, and scanners are hogging up the power. Systems of lesser priority are experiencing some minor malfunctions. You don't want to risk being stuck on an elevator, late for your inauguration, with me and an android attendant gawking at us with its soulless eyes. Now, I would be OK with it. Sounds titillating. You wouldn't be as thrilled. Maybe "

☀ WWWW&H [Talking to his love Bellum. Getting ready to walk with her]
☂ OOC [Plans. Plottings]


Infinite Owls

[Taka tashimaru]

There weren't many things to do around the lab. Thera's favorite was to find a quiet corner and read. This time, she'd managed to sneak old literature text from one of the classrooms. She'd already read all the stories in it, this particular one held old stories from the second era from a place called Europe. They'd learned in class that that was a country across the Atlantic ocean from Centrum. However, physical books weren't just left around the classrooms. Those were considered relics for only the teachers. Thera preferred the feel of the paper between her fingers but the glass tablet that contained the books was cool to the touch and sleek like everything else in the basement lab. It was oddly comforting. Like home. After all, this was the only home she'd ever know.

She'd made it through about four of the stories while laying in bed. She'd taken the tablet the day prior and had hid it under her mattress, reading it late at night when she was sure everyone was asleep. But in the morning she needed to find a new hiding place, this time it happened to be in the storage closet in one of the main halls. It wasn't often used and pretty barren, but this one held extra linens and lanterns so she'd made herself a camp for the afternoon.

Most of the caretakers were to be gone this afternoon. Some emergency they said. Which was fine with her because it meant that fewer people were likely to be looking for her.

At the moment she was reading Hamlet and...

"No, no, no...no!" Thera flailed her legs about as the slab of glass flickered once, twice, then went dark, plunging the room into blackness. She made an annoyed grunt and felt around the floor of the storage room for the lantern she'd set aside for herself and flicked it on. It sent beams of bright white light, much brighter than the tablet was, that made her squint her eyes and blink a few times to adjust them. The tablet had died. Leaving her with nothing to do. With a sigh she quickly rose to her feet and began to put away her campsite before extinguishing the lantern and leaving her hideaway.

A blonde head peaked out into the hall. Thera hugged the glass tablet to her chest as she shut the door behind herself and made her way, barefoot, to the classroom to return it. She tiptoed into the empty room, placing the tablet on a desk and quickly left again. Her blue eyes searched up and down the hall, making sure she had stayed unseen. At first she let out a relieved sigh and smiled to herself as she started back down the hall, only to be stopped mid stride to the stern voice of one of the night-shift caretakers. "Miss Therapeia, you know better than to be wondering down this wing at this time. Please follow me back to the common area if you would."

She hunched her shoulders and hung her head in defeat "Yes sir..." the two began a silent trek down the hall to the wide open area known as the common area to the other experiments. It had a few white couches and a single, but rather large, port screen that streamed educational programs around the clock. It also had a number of small group activities for them to do like card games and simple board games. Most of their time was taken up by tests and trials, especially the older experiments. The younger ones were busy with schooling too. With a sigh Thera slumped onto one of the white couches and stared at the floor, wondering when dinner would be served.





■ talking | ■ thinking | ■ secondary speech

music Once Upon Another Time - Sara Bareilles
outfit white
location storage closet - common room
company no one
ooc ---

[erstwhile foe]

____________(xxwhere | his office -> living quartersxx)xxx(xxwith | Therapeiaxx)xxx(xxfeeling | amusedxx)xxx(xxtheme | Black Mambo - Glass Animalsxx)__________________________________________

• Marseilles hummed quietly to himself as he strode down the hallway to his office, shoes clipping against the floor with every step. Glancing into the lab-viewing windows on the way, he made sure his teams were still working; lately, they had had a penchant for taking “breaks,” as if that was something that would ever be allowed in any of his labs. At the moment, though, they all seemed to be doing what they were supposed to, so he stepped into his office, the automatic glass doors sighing as they closed behind him. “Doctor Potestas, you have three notifications. One notification is classified security alpha. Please confirm your identity to receive them.”
  
  “It’s me,” he said, sitting down in front of a thin glass display screen. “Disregard the general notifications; display the secure one.” The two non-secure messages would just be reminders that the new Center would be taking office today, a fact of which Marseilles was well aware.
  
  “Voiceprint analyzed. Identity confirmed. Notification will be displayed shortly,” the computer announced, and the viewscreen filled with text summarizing their latest research results. The newest project was an attempt to make respiration more efficient by forcing the dioxygen molecules found in air to change into ozone inside the the bloodstream. Theoretically, a person using ozone as the fuel for their cellular respiration could survive much longer on one breath and, if they could get the system efficient enough, could even breath underwater for short periods of time. Mostly though, this research was being performed to increase the efficiency of already existing systems. Ideally, this wouldn’t result in another failure downstairs. So far though, they hadn’t been able to make cultured cells - let alone an actual organism - function under these conditions. For some reason, the ozone was affecting the polarity of the cytoplasm in the cells, which was in turn making it impossible for proteins to fold properly. Effectively, the newly engineered mechanisms were forcing all of a cell's proteins to denature into beta sheets that accumulated into fatal prions that would kill any organism they attempted this transformation on. This notification was essentially a summary of the fact that this therapy was nowhere near ready to be implemented in vivo. Regardless, the show must go on, and his teams were working on the problem now. Hopefully, they’d have a reasonable idea of how to proceed by the end of the week.
  
  He was still reading through the report when a message popped up in the corner of the screen. Apparently, one of the patients - Therapeia - downstairs had been in a restricted area, and as the chief of the project, he was to be notified of any irregularities. It wasn’t really a big deal, but as he hadn’t been down there all day, he figured it would be good to go down there and check out the patients anyway. Standing up, he closed the files on his display and left his office, grabbing his earpiece so that he could hear the new Center’s speech if he was down there for more than an hour. After all, it was required.
  
  “Goodbye, Doctor Potestas,” the computer spoke as the doors closed behind him. Walking into the elevator at the end of the hallway, he pressed the button for the lowest floor. After the button verified his print, a tone sounded and the elevator began his trip down. From the top floor it actually took a couple of minutes to reach the bottom which was a couple of floors underground. When it finally arrived, Marseilles had to again press his thumb to the button before the doors would open. Stepping out, he walked down the semi-lit hallway and into the common area, where the patient was waiting. Putting on his best, “trust-me-I’m-a-doctor” smile, he walked toward the couch where Therapeia was sitting and sat down next to her. “Miss Therapeia,” he began, “may I ask why you were in a restricted area after hours?” It didn’t really matter; there was nothing down here that was dangerous to the illusion they had built for the patients, but they did like to maintain some semblance of control, so it wasn’t a good idea to let the patients go gallivanting all around the building whenever they wanted to. “Were you reading again?”
  
  xxxxxxxxxxxxxx█xx█xx█x xooc | finally posted! 'lemme know if anything is crazy wrong

[DJ Double B]

Green: #40826D
Grey: dimgrey
Tan: #DB2645

GYORS


FAILED EXPERIMENT


Location;; Commons Areaxxxx Company;; Thera, Dr. Potestas xxxxx Mood;; Worried



The evening for Gyors had grown to be slightly off from the norm, and it was making him a little nervous. Or, a little more on edge than usual. The caretakers told them that there was an emergency on the surface, and that they had to go resolve it. Gyors was used to that - the surface was a horrible place and a lot of bad things happened up there - but it was the fact that so many had to go this time that brought him quite a bit of concern. Often he had wondered just what the surface was like, and why they would ever bother trying to fix things up there when there were people down here that could do everything so much better. People that could make a better life. Gyors always assumed that it was to make sure nothing got in to hurt them, which was yet another worry for him. Learning and reading usually helped in taking his mind off of things, though the tablets were kept in the classrooms, and he wasn't allowed over there unless they were being taught. Perhaps he could get away with it, especially with his super-speed, but Gyors didn't bother. Plus, dinner would surely be ready soon. He slipped off of his bed and, as was his habit as of late, examined his face in the mirror. The hair on his face was something of an oddball feature for the basement he lived in. The medicine he was given had some long term - perhaps even permanent - effects on Gyors's face. He now had facial hair that never seemed to just go away, no matter how much he messed with it. And instead of dark blue, his eyes were now a hideous brown color. From time to time, he would begin to wonder if his hair was starting to do the same thing. As secluded as he was, even he knew that this wasn't how normal people were supposed to look. With a small sigh, Gyors turned away from the mirror. Maybe he'd look ok someday, but he tried to do what the caretakers ask of him: don't worry about it. The problem was that worrying was something he was particularly good at.

Despite outward appearances, his thoughts remained fixated on the lack of caretakers. They were some of the people that mattered to him, the people who had healed him of his illnesses and raised him as their own. Despite doubts he and his friend had - either in the past or the present - they were people that not only care about them but Gyors cared about what happened to them too. They were family. Leaving his room, he moved down the cold hallway and towards the commons area. Maybe he could play some of those old card games while he waited. Thera and Dr. Postestas were already there, sitting on the couch and talking. "Oh, uh... Should I come back later, or...?" They were probably talking about a medical thing or something. A little weird for the time of day, but that's what he helped people with. Or, at least Gyors knew he was helping him with the whole facial hair thing. Figuring out what happened and what in the medicine was causing it. And, of course, finding out how to reverse it. "Though I was wondering," he began, taking a second to spot out the deck of cards on the shelf. "do you know if they're alright? Up there, I mean. A lot of them went this time." And Gyors didn't want them to be suddenly gone. They didn't have a lot of caretakers, and losing them would devastate everyone. Err, almost everyone. A few weren't so keen on all of this, but Gyors knew from experience that they'd come back around in time.

[feel nothing]

Parthenia’s hair fell in soft waves over the edge of the white bed, her eyes trained on the object floating back and forth over her head. She had been in that same position, sprawled out on her bed, for a good hour or so now, moving the empty cup from side to side in deep concentration. She was still learning the capacity of her abilities, she pushed herself every day to expand her capabilities, but for the time being she could only move basic objects at a generally slow velocity. The doctors were constantly bringing her in for more testing, attempting to improve her ability, she felt as if she was in and out of the labs on a daily basis, she knew she visited the scientists more frequently than most of her peers.

She heard the sound of the door to her room buzzing open and her attention moved too quickly to the caretaker walking in, causing the cup to fall on her face. She winced and sat up as the dark haired man walked in and set a book down on the table. “Most of the others are gathered in the common room, Parthenia. Would you like to join them? It would make it easier to look after you, some of the caretakers went out today.” He asked in his calm and soothing voice. Nena placed the cup on the counter beside her bed and offered a quiet nod. She followed the caretaker to the common room. The TVs were playing educational videos, ones she’d seen plenty of times. The caretaker stopped to attend to a younger girl, so she continued on walking to the small group that was forming on the couches surrounding Dr. Potestas. Therapeia and Gyors were already speaking to him quietly so she made her way towards them.

She didn’t like Thera or Gyors very much, she viewed them as naïve and found it so sad that they had no interest in leaving this place. The rumors of the caretakers having to travel up for a reason that could only be described as an emergency, peaked her interest. And having overhead Gyors question about the ones that went up, this was surely a conversation she didn’t want to miss. She joined the group with a forced smile and took a seat on the arm of the couch next to her favourite doctor. He seemed to be a very genuine man, a quality Nena admired of him. He was one of the only doctors she really trusted, they often had lengthy conversations about various subjects, including the outside.

She said nothing as took a seat, listening to Gyors speak. It was a fairly valid question, she wondered if there really was any danger up there sometimes. She wondered what it looked like. She wondered what it smelled like. She crossed one leg over the other as she waited for Dr. Potestas response, tucking loose blonde hairs behind her ears.

It wasn’t often that she seriously socialized with the others here. Most of them were dim, child-like individuals that followed caretakers around like there was something attaching them to each other. She was usually alone, sneaking around in places she probably shouldn’t. She knew they were always watching her, she could see the strange objects welded to the ceilings following her every move. She didn’t quite care that they knew.

Gyors asked a valid question, but it wasn't the right one.

"What are they doing up there?" She asked, looking to the nice doctor.

[NIGHT TERRORS NOTHING]

✄x✁ As soon as Rome Callas stepped past the threshold of the automated doors, his wristlet merged with the network and gave him access to all the floor maps and cameras. Monitoring was a secondary task for human personnel. There were BPM scanners in place looking for abnormal life signs. No heartbeat above normal rates was going to escape investigation. Those in shock, unnecessarily hurrying, or acting suspiciously were typically registered at 100 BPM. Anything out of the ordinary was recorded digitally in numbers and code then uploaded to a server dedicated to sending out notifications to officials like himself. He had a choice between referring another official or sending a team of security guards. The police were already stretched thin. Based on distance, if he was the closest and most qualified it became necessary for him to accept tasks when prompted. When the issue regarding the elevators flashed on his forearm, he tapped to accept then ordered them to close one out of every double elevator. Rome turned his arm towards his abdominal cavity where his deadpan voice was best recognized."Task accept. En route to investigation. Advisory. Run diagnostic on elevators out of service. Dismiss elevator attendants not on duty and escort them off the premises.If deemed necessary, detain them for questioning."

✄x✁ Rome cast a mildly accusatory glance at the elevator attendant he exchanged places with. Scrutiny of everyone and everything was an integrated part of his personality. To him, privacy was not a privilege but an obstruction to his duties. He was trained to be impatient as time and patience were things the law could not afford. Although it was a special event, he did not make any extra time to groom himself. His formal attire was machine pressed, but the organic aspects of his appearance remained untouched. There was day old, blond stubble on his chin, barely visible, and stray hair across his forehead. Rome could care less if regulations were more lax. Attention to detail was rarely applied to himself. The tremor in his eyelashes when he chose not to blink was an indication that he was alive. His facial expression seemed frozen. Dead and cold. As he knelt in front of the elevator's console, the line of his mouth tightened. Rome breathed on his hands to generate the heat required to swipe the touch screen."Confirming. Maximum weight capacity is 1,133 kilograms approximately sixteen average bodies. Log does not show any abnormal weight distribution regarding suspicious equipment or carry on accessories. Hypothesis. Energy minimum met. Overclocking possible issue. Remote interference possible issue..." His wristlet flickered. Rome made a decision. "Low power safe mode activate." To preserve the battery of his watch, he turned off all non vital apps.

♠ WWW&W [in centrum hall, inside a stalled elevator busily checking the activity log.]
♦ OOC [...thought i should post again..]

[Crocodylus]

Sydney Argyros was as photogenic under aesthetic lighting as he was without. There was more to look at with the lights. By measure, it was pleasant to see all his teeth and the unbreakable quality of his smile. It was never fake--but depending on his focus, sometimes oddly menacing. Every word was a bite out of something or someone.

It took him fifteen minutes to pass through the main entry doors, to stand for pictures, to photobomb opponents, opposition, digitally sign off on multiple charities (improved housing and further development in secondary districts) with his Bunsen burner-blue eyes. He lit it up like a show of fireworks, smiles here, there, winks, glares, and so on. Very few counselors were as energetic, fast paced, and charismatic. The more well-liked he was, the more friends he ranked in, he also had n increasing amount of enemies behind his back from emotional bases--fear, envy, suspicion. Someone who was in the public eye 24/7 clearly had something to compensate for--something to hide--and they were right but there was no proof. His trail was an amazing maze of activity.

Fifteen minutes, then he couldn't stand around anymore shooting the breeze. He kept clapping his pocket watch for the time. There was a makeshift sign on most of the elevators. Argus dipped, ducked, bobbed, and weaved through the crowd to make it into the one that seemed empty. There was only one other person there--a law man. He checked a directory to see who it was without looking. The man appeared to be busy with the elevator control panel. Vague recognition sparked a line of thoughts, theories, and decisions. "Excuse me, but is this elevator operational? Will the door sensors function even if you switched it to manual open and close? Can it safely make it to the top floor from the basement floor without stalling, for example?" He approached this very nonchalantly. Who questions nobellum? A prime is used to constant questioning.

★ LOCATION [In an open elevator~]
☆ COMPANY [Rome Callas!]
★ Out.Of.Coffee [x]