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IC [HomebrewSupers] Zero Day

Stattick

Electronic Thing
Validated User
OOC: This post actually made me cry. That was beautiful, Stattick.
OOC: Thank you. Wish I'd posted a few days ago. It took me a long time to figure out the general tack I wanted to take.
 
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Fred

Surely you jest, Mr Fred
RPGnet Member
Validated User
OOC: The bar for playing this game is getting higher and higher. I want to make the GM cry too. :)
 

Aikireikinu

Tsundere Cat
RPGnet Member
Validated User
Monday, April 29th, 2019. Zero Day +10. Morning.

Tim


Clancy thinks for a moment. "I'm not really sure? Maybe it just happened organically, networks of friends, and friends of friends, that grew until it became a community of trust? I'm not sure we have time for something like that."

Alex

Alex doesn't get interrupted while working.

OOC: Up to how long you want to spend working on it. No roll required, since this is well within your skill set. When you choose to submit your ideas, there will be a response.


Craig

The ex-cop looks at Craig. His expression slowly changes from concern to trying to hold back tears to sobbing.

In between sobs, he speaks.

"I'm not one of the good ones. I was a cop for fifteen years. I thought I would be one of the good ones. But I couldn't. I just stopped looking. Stopped hearing. I kept my head down, tried to be a good cop. Tried to train rookies that got assigned to me right. Didn't do anything wrong myself, but I couldn't stop others. I stopped trying to. Tried to be a good cop in my own little world. Didn't say anything if I saw anything. Thought that I'd be OK if I kept my hands clean. Didn't matter. Every time I looked the other way, didn't say anything, I got dirtier and dirtier."

"And then last week, I woke up. I could feel, everything, from everyone. It was like feeling worms crawling under my skin. I had to get out of there. What good's a cop with super-empathy? I wandered around, and everyone was screaming, blank-faced. Fear, sorrow, hatred, disgust, apathy, joy, contempt, anticipation."

"And, and then it got worst. I..." He looks around. "I can't say it here. Somewhere no once can hear. It's too much."

He leads Craig a short distance to an alley and leans in close, whispering.

"I can make other people feel. Whatever emotion I want. But I feel what they feel. It's like being between two mirrors, it just goes on forever. You're right, I need help. I don't deserve help. I have to help..."

He falls to his knees. "I... I don't know if I can help you, but I'll do whatever I can. I can't live for myself right now. Please, give me a purpose..."
 

Muskrat

Ancient Wyrm Kittensnake
RPGnet Member
Validated User
Tim uses his borrowed skills to monitor the systems that Ramona is manipulating. It's interesting. Her power seem to make the computers retroactively justify giving her access. When she logs in, credentials appear in the user systems granting her access.

Following Tim's suggestions, Ramona sets her virtual credentials to self delete when she withdraws from the system, and it seems to work. When he looks at the system logs, there's no trace of her. And, at least with their current targets, there doesn't seem to be any special security deployed.
"You know, if I were you, I wouldn't jump straight into your target next time. Bounce your... uh... signal from several different servers before going in for the kill, preferably in different countries. That will make it more difficult to track you. Which reminds me, we still have to figure out if whoever is after you is a super," Tim tells Ramona, while packing up the gear.
Ramona inspects the credentials that the system gives her, trying to see if the FBI will be able to trace her with the one's she's left. Of course, she could always go back into the FBI servers and erase the traces she left earlier--though it might be too late for the FBI to track her down.

She turns to Tim and says, "Thanks for your help. You know, I think I would be better at this if I also had some mundane computer skills--it would also allow me to advertise my abilities while providing a non-super cover for them. Does your borrowed expertise allow you to recommend some stuff for me to read?" She shrugs. "If not, I can always go to the library."

She sighs and says, "As for whether it's a super tracking me or not ... I'm not sure there's a way to find out. I suppose once I bone up on computer knowledge, I might have a better chance of figuring it out."

After Tim takes off, Ramona also gets in touch with some techie friends, asking for suggestions. Then she goes to the library to get some books. When she gets home, she sits in front of her computer, reading them and trying to pair them with her new abilities, to better understand what it is she can do to computer networks--and so she can explain what she can do in mundane terms. While playing electronic Robin Hood might be necessary, she's beginning to realize that it would be safer to do what Tim is doing--pretending his abilities are mundane and lending them to non-profits she supports. She might even be able to turn it into a business--she'd only be able to be a bike messenger for so long, physically speaking and it didn't pay great money.
 

The Watcher

Cosmic Observer
Validated User
Alex

Alex spends the next few hours mostly working on various different ideas. He also is diligent in making sure the ones he comes up with aren't too similar to comic characters with similar powers. The last thing he wants is for him or his client to be sued for copyright or trademark infringement. Occasionally he takes a break and checks the boards and social media for news regarding powered people. Things were getting uncertain and what Alex thought is needed is some sort of organization to lobby for the rights and interests of powered people. He's entertaining the idea of somehow founding one himself but if someone else was already doing so it might be better to see what he could do to aid them. Between his money, professional contacts and skills he should be able to help out. And then there were his powers, though any assistance he gave with them he'd prefer to keep discreet.
 

Fred

Surely you jest, Mr Fred
RPGnet Member
Validated User
Clancy thinks for a moment. "I'm not really sure? Maybe it just happened organically, networks of friends, and friends of friends, that grew until it became a community of trust? I'm not sure we have time for something like that."
"Hmm... I think once we set up the server and Beacon, we might get that going more smoothly. We might be able to spread the word on the DL. Who knows? There might be a rich super willing to bankroll your project, not to mention others who can use their powers to build what you want," Tim says, smiling. This was what he wanted -- to help make the world a better place.

She turns to Tim and says, "Thanks for your help. You know, I think I would be better at this if I also had some mundane computer skills--it would also allow me to advertise my abilities while providing a non-super cover for them. Does your borrowed expertise allow you to recommend some stuff for me to read?" She shrugs. "If not, I can always go to the library."
"Sure! I get the knowledge base as well, so I can tell you the main textbooks and authors," Tim answers and proceed to write down a long list of references for Ramona.

OOC: I've surfaced a bit to tell you things are going well and I might be able to, tentatively, come back next week.
 

Aikireikinu

Tsundere Cat
RPGnet Member
Validated User
OOC: Glad to hear it, take the time you need.
 

Stattick

Electronic Thing
Validated User
Craig

The ex-cop looks at Craig. His expression slowly changes from concern to trying to hold back tears to sobbing.

In between sobs, he speaks.

"I'm not one of the good ones. I was a cop for fifteen years. I thought I would be one of the good ones. But I couldn't. I just stopped looking. Stopped hearing. I kept my head down, tried to be a good cop. Tried to train rookies that got assigned to me right. Didn't do anything wrong myself, but I couldn't stop others. I stopped trying to. Tried to be a good cop in my own little world. Didn't say anything if I saw anything. Thought that I'd be OK if I kept my hands clean. Didn't matter. Every time I looked the other way, didn't say anything, I got dirtier and dirtier."

"And then last week, I woke up. I could feel, everything, from everyone. It was like feeling worms crawling under my skin. I had to get out of there. What good's a cop with super-empathy? I wandered around, and everyone was screaming, blank-faced. Fear, sorrow, hatred, disgust, apathy, joy, contempt, anticipation."

"And, and then it got worst. I..." He looks around. "I can't say it here. Somewhere no once can hear. It's too much."

He leads Craig a short distance to an alley and leans in close, whispering.

"I can make other people feel. Whatever emotion I want. But I feel what they feel. It's like being between two mirrors, it just goes on forever. You're right, I need help. I don't deserve help. I have to help..."

He falls to his knees. "I... I don't know if I can help you, but I'll do whatever I can. I can't live for myself right now. Please, give me a purpose..."
"You know, I never really thought about it much, from your end of things. From, you know, a cop's perspective...

"I know the kinds of fucked up shit I got into, not being a cop. I can't image the kinds of stuff I'd have gotten into if I'd had a badge. I mean, maybe if I wasn't a junkie, I might have been able to - not be terrible. Maybe I'd have been able to be as decent as you were? I dunno. There's a lot of temptation to try to resist. Power corrupts, and all that."

Craig sighs, and squats down next to the ex-cop. "Ok, let's watch each other's backs then. Try to keep each other from going down a bad path, giving in to temptation. I... think you'll have the harder job in this. I've proven, too many times, to not be very reliable at resisting temptation. So, try to keep me honest. I'll try to keep you grounded...

"Here's the thing. The guy I'm staying with, he's one of us. He's... I don't know if rich is the right word, but he isn't hurting, and has enough to support me too. So, he's letting me crash at his place, and I'm helping him. He's worried about what the government is going to do about people like us. And worried about what people like us are going to do. He wants everyone to get along. To minimize the trouble. Because, let's face it, some of us would be really hard to stop if we decided to be violent or criminals, or whatever. Some people like us, we're kind of the equivalent of an army, or a rogue nation, in terms of what we can do, and how hard it can be to stop us. So we're trying to, guide things I guess, into the most nondestructive path we can.

"So, anyway, the so called 'Fire-Woman'. Her first appearance was at Central Park. The cops were trying to clear out a homeless camp in the park. You know how it goes. Shake 'em down. See what contraband falls out, what warrants you can arrest people on. Throw away everyone's stuff. Hurt and disrupt their lives as much as possible, to try to make the problem 'go away', you know, without actually offering much of any real help to the homeless.

"So, she created some kind of giant fire... being. She didn't actually hurt anyone, but it might have gone that way if things had happened a little differently. Anyway, the cops withdrew, and the homeless gathered up what they could, what hadn't already been thrown away, and got out of there. Best I can figure, they scattered across the island.

"Anyway, since then, there's been a couple of people that have been burned to death. Probably people attacking the homeless or trying to prey on them in some way. So, we're trying to find her. We want to put an end to the deaths, you know? Otherwise, if she gets out of control, she might end up torching an apartment building by accident or something. Or the army comes in, ready to shoot anyone that twitches. Besides, what happens here, especially at the beginning of all this, the Empowering, or whatever you want to call it, sets the tone for what comes next. We want this to be as painless as possible - whatever comes next, we want to keep it from happening in a bloodbath.

"So if you're willing to help, I'll show you, more or less, what she looks like, to the best of my understanding. I can make myself look like her. And then we see if we can find her. What happens after that? I dunno. Maybe call my roommate in, and the three of us try to talk to her. I'm hoping we can do this peacefully. I'm not even sure if there's a peaceful solution possible here, but I hope so.

"And afterwards, if you still want to keep helping, I'm sure that we could use your help."
 

Aikireikinu

Tsundere Cat
RPGnet Member
Validated User
Friday, May 3rd, 2019. Zero Day +14. Evening

A grim faced older white male news announcer stares at the camera.

"Good evening. We open tonight's broadcast with a tragic and senseless crime. I..." His voice catches, but he regains his composure. "I must warn our viewers that this report will include terrible..." His voice catches again. "Please, make sure your children aren't watching."

He takes a moment to steel himself, then continues.

"Earlier today, the 125th Street Library in Harlem was attacked by a madman armed with guns and firebombs. His target seemed to be the Children's Librarian, Clancy Thomas, a superhuman. This... this person attacked during the after school children's book program."

"The current... the current death toll is twelve children and four adults, including the attacker. Another eight children and three adults are hospitalized in critical condition."

"Mr. Clancy was not harmed in the attack, and killed the attacker."

<An image of Clancy Thomas, sitting on the steps in front of the the burned-out library after that attack, holding his head with red-stained hands.>

"A preliminary search of social media sites identified multiple hate-filled messages from the attacker, against minorities, women, and superhumans."

"We will not be identifying the attacker."

The camera shifts to an Asian woman. "Daniel Right, leader of the Humanity Council, who led an anti-superhuman rally in Times Square yesterday disavowed any connection with the attacker, and dismissed suggestions that the attacker was inspired by his words. "

"City, State, and Federal law enforcement agencies are investigating to see if the attacker had any accomplices."

Alex

The mysterious client has been back and forth with Alex over the preceding days, offering suggestions and requesting changes. With the news of the attack hits, he receives another direct message, this time from the client himself.

"Thank you for your work, Mr. Daniels. It looks like I don't have any more time to go over designs, so I'll be working with the last one. I'll try to do your designs proud. It's a long shot, but, if any other superhumans come your way, could you let me know? I get the feeling I'm going to need a lot of help."

Craig

Craig and the ex-cop, whose name is Bob Mendelssohn, spent the last few days searching the likely spots, with Craig identifying areas to search, and Bob trying to sense any emotions that might be from the Fire Woman. Craig has checked in with Alex as needed.

As evening falls, the pair is heading towards another homeless gather spot.

Suddenly Bob grabs Craig's arm and points at a couple of white guys in sweats and red baseball caps. And carrying baseball bats. "They're... they're eager. They want to hurt someone."

Tim

Tim has been working with Clancy to establish a Superhuman Mutual Aid Society, as well as working with Ramona on her projects. He had met with Clancy this morning to go over some more details and finishing off laying out the necessary legal framework.

Ramona

Ramona's been working on developing her actual tech skills, and keeping an electronic ear out for whatever might be trying to track her. She starts to notice code popping up on left-leaning activists sites, particularly those based in New York City. Not anything the public could see, but buried in the comments.

Are you still there, Spider? Did I scare you off? I just want to talk. You can call me Bit.
 

Muskrat

Ancient Wyrm Kittensnake
RPGnet Member
Validated User
Ramona is both suspicious and amused. She likes the name Spider--if she decides to go with anything resembling the classic superhero route, Spider would be cool as an alias. After carefully making sure she is untraceable this time, she replies, This is Spider. I'm listening Bit. Who are you? Some sort of spook? Or one of the Resistance?
 
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