The Winter of Our Discontent IC

[OracleofSilence]

Act Zero
Friday, October 24th, 2014
San Francisco. CA
3:05pm

It is hardly a pleasant day. Oppressive, low hanging clouds shroud the city, plunging most of the northern Bay into a grayish, slightly damp twilight. The clammy chill had forced many off the streets, leaving few besides the occasional street vendor, and the perpetual bundle of protesters in the Civic Center. Of course, that was only in some areas. Once you left downtown, desperation or necessity brought more people out of shelter.

Almost 40000 have braved the weather, and the utter certainty of rain at some point in the near future, to pack themselves into the Giants Stadium. Street vendors, the homeless, and others less reputably engaged were easy to spot in North Beach and the Mission, and the perpetual crowd of twenty-somethings was as present as ever in SOMA and the Haight. And of course, the police, in a desperate and probably futile effort to "rebuild trust and foster cooperation with the local communities" maintained their heightened presence in areas of interest, as they had for the last twenty years.

Welcome to SF.

[Failed Phantasm]

Nathan should have been in a good mood. It was a beautiful, brisk mid-autumn day beneath misty, gray, heavily-overcast skies that were thick with the promise of an evening shower: the perfect weather to have some tea, flop down in bed, and catch up on his journal reading while listening to the pitter-patter of the rain. Things were going well — if routinely — at the university, as the latest research project he'd been assigned to moved from experiment to analysis, with plenty of interesting data to collate and examine. It's true, the raccoons might have put a pair of undergrads in the hospital on suspicion of having contracted rabies, but only because they tried to pull a stupid stunt for YouTube rather than for any reason related to the project itself. That little detail aside, Nathan had a completely free weekend ahead of him. His supervisor was heading out to New York to attend a conference or symposium or summit or whatever they were calling it, and she was apparently feeling generous towards her underlings. Hell, she even let them all go home a few hours early today.

Yet in spite of that, he just couldn't quite shake the weird and utterly inexplicable sense of dissatisfaction to which he'd woken up this morning. He had a feeling that something was missing from his life somehow, a certain unfulfilled je ne sais quoi that was only all the more frustrating because he couldn't identify it. It was enough to make him want, however vaguely, to punch something, as alarming as that sentiment was. In fact, ever since having moved to San Francisco, he noticed that he'd been feeling noticeably more pent-up and angry and stressed than he ever had before. Maybe it was just the homesickness and loneliness catching up to him, the unease of being in a foreign land — he certainly felt as if he weren't in Kansas anymore — and the utter lack of an outlet to help him manage his emotions in a positive manner. Maybe he just needed a hobby. Or to get laid. Apparently that solved every problem that everyone in history has ever had? He heaved a heavy sigh, drawing a quick glance from the person sitting across from him on the bus.

The rest of the ride home was mostly uneventful, aside from his garnering the occasional odd look for daring to wear a T-shirt and shorts instead of bundling up against the "cold". Now he was trudging up the last of the stairs to his entirely-too-expensive third-floor studio apartment in the Pacific Heights (on the other side of town from SFSU, no less), wanting nothing more than to shrug off his backpack and sleep for a few hours. Maybe that would help. The building was unusually quiet today, possibly because most of the tenants had gone off to watch the Giants game. Nathan didn't care; insert key, turn knob, open door, throw deadbolt, kick off shoes, drop backpack on couch.

"So," he announced in a soft whisper to the tiny, empty room; "what now?"

[Beans]

February Geller turns up the collar of her fleece-lined jacket as she heads home. She's got that... odd feeling that always comes after a support group meeting. The others are very... well, supportive, but there's lately been an edge like one would get sitting with a group of disapproving aunts. They keep dropping hints that they're worried she's not moving on, that somehow her working from home and preference toward reclusivity is because Arlene scared her out of being social.

Firstly, she thinks as she trudges down the sidewalk, it is nothing but sensible to be afraid of Arlene. The woman is... is vile, manipulative, callous, and nearly blinded her. Your husband moved to Taiwan, Mary---would you be so cavalier if he was still in the city, like Arlene?

Secondly, she's quite happy as she is. This isn't because of her ex-wife, it's because this is what she's comfortable doing.

Of course, imagined retorts to unspoken nagging serve as little more than self-assurance and a way to sulk. She'll have to do some work or something, anything to get her mind off this nonsense.

Finally returning to her basement apartment, she sits down before her computer and starts to work. Work is good, work is fulfilling, work stops her from having to brood so much.
Work is not a good substitute for friends, but she doesn't tell herself that.

[Anyr]

Samantha Rider was having a bad day: Mostly because she was awake. Night shift cops were supposed to be buried in comfortable blankets right now. But thanks to a particularly vicious bout of influenza amongst the day shift, her schedule had suffered a painful wrench. Now she trudged through yet another dilapidated street, having wasted far too long on a lead that went nowhere. Only two more hours until she could go home and get a few precious hours of sleep: Before she got up again to work the night shift as well. Tired or not, she had commitments to keep. If it weren't for the necessity of sleep and suchlike, Sam might never go home at all. It wasn't as if she had a life outside the office. Plunging her hands into the deep pockets of her coat, the depressed detective walked onwards.

[Mono Vertigo]

The one bright thing in Alessa's day is that she hasn't had to take care of anybody yet.
That's not going to last long, she knows, and given the kind of patients she'll have to treat - morons hurt fighting each other, drunkards who managed to injure themselves, hooligans ready to hit you with a bottle if your support of their team is not clear enough - the self-delusion she's helping society and happy about it will crumble very fast.
Shivering slightly in the weather, she looks at the first aid worker in the corner of her eye, smoking, waiting for the first injuries. This one looks like he's going to enjoy the start of violence more than she does. Among the nurses and physicians she's met, many do. Maybe she should start embracing that state of mind. Sometimes, even if you have to help the healing process along, the people who come in deserved to be hurt.
As soon as she gets back to the hospital, she'll have to "borrow" a little something. No matter what will happen precisely today, she's going to deserve it. Come on, she doesn't smoke, she can afford one tiny pill instead.
In spite of all this, Alessa is smiling shyly and innocently. She even tries starting a discussion with the smoking guy, in order to avoid dying of boredom; she turns her back to the Giants stadium and distractedly points at it with her thumb. "So, huh, who are we playing against, again? I'd heard about the match, of course, but I've been so busy, I don't think I turned the TV on since Monday! Ahah."
Also, she couldn't care less about any collective sports, but all she gets when she dares hinting at it are alienating stares, so better pretend.

[OracleofSilence]

3:13 pm

As the minutes tick by, the sense of dreary normality grows. Condensation gathers slowly on windows, the last gasps of a sea breeze wind their way into the city, and on a few corners, street lights flick on despite the early hour.

Nathan

You hear a slight vibration from your bag. the arrival of a text, or a prompt from some app. It's hard to tell these days. Mere seconds later, you hear the telephone ring in your room, and the beep of the answering machine, far too soon afterwords. Then in the apartment below yours, then from next door. Then silence.

Samantha

The radio crackles, a somewhat bizarre burst of static, and you hear a vibration from your partners pocket, followed by an embarrassed cough as he silences his phone. A similar string of muffled vibrations and various ringtones is heard from the few pedestrians around you, as well as some muffled ringing from nearby shops. The brief moment of silence is broken almost immediately by another pop of static from your radio, followed by a single short phrase, spoken in a distinctive, but unfamiliar accent.

I'm sorry.

February

The distinctive little bing! of an IM breaks February's concentration for a split second. Seriously, that setting. Why was it so hard to turn off? And Why did it always seem to turn on again after it was finally tracked down? Then there's a muffled vibration as her phone, buried under a small pile of technical documentation and spare books, decides that really, it doesn't want her focusing on work either.

Alessa

The man rolls his eye's, more out of embarrassment then any actual disappointment. "Come on, man. It's the World Series. It's been all over the paper." Any real insult is diminished slightly when he grins and continues. "I have no idea myself either." He looks distracted, then slightly sheepish as a phone vibrates in his pocket, but his hasty fumbling to silence it are stopped as the old PA system makes a truly disconcerting series of pops, sounds it never has made, and certainly wasn't designed to make either, then speaks.

I'm sorry.

[Mono Vertigo]

Alessa was about to abashedly apologize and change the subject (to none), as she does whenever conversations go less than well. The sudden turn relieves her immensely. She giggles a bit before replying:
"Ah, you got me! Seriously though, if the Nasa had successfully launched a spaceship to Mars this week, I would have managed to miss it as well. It's amazing the things you can just miss like that."
That line of discussion was not fated to continue further either, however.
"... w-w-what's that?!", she shouts, looking up at the closest speaker.

[Anyr]

Sam's annoyance at her partner's phone-related carelessness quickly turned to confusion: As a chorus of rings, beeps and buzzes spread throughout the area. It seemed as if every communication device in earshot was receiving a call at the same time. What the hell? When Sam's own radio crackled to life, she grabbed it from her belt.

"Hello? Who is this? What are you sorry about? If this is a joke, it's not funny!"

Though Sam certainly wasn't laughing, she would admit to being impressed. Whoever was responsible for this prank call (or whatever it was) must have gone to a lot of trouble. How'd they manage to pull this off?

[OracleofSilence]

3:13 PM

Alessa

The PA system is silent for a moment, then a slightly distracted voice, more recognizable, and not proceeded by the odd static pops, comes through "Umm. We seem to uh, have had some type of technicall issue just now. Uhh. We'll give more private updates when we know more." The voice trails off slightly, towards the end, but Alessa also hears the sudden gasp from her male co-worker. "Uhh, do you have a phone on you? I know we aren't really supposed to, but I just got this text..." He holds up his phone, displaying a single message on a blank screen:

I'm sorry.

Sam

Sam receives a brief, hurried Dispatch response, indicating that no, this message wasn't sent from headquarters, nor from the local station thank you very much, but please, if you could get back like five minutes ago, that would have been great.

[Beans]

[February]
Sighing, she turns to look at her phone. She knows she told it to stay silent and unbuzzing, but her phone never really cares what she tells it to do. She checks what the hell is up now.

[Anyr]

Sam put away the radio with a frown. From the sounds of it, this mystery was bigger than just one street. She glanced over at her partner (what was his name, again?).

"We've been recalled; Let's move."

Then she proceeded to do just that.

[Mono Vertigo]

The nurse's skins turns a few shades paler when she sees the text.
"O-o-ooooh my, that's getting seriously creepy."
Yet she'd really like to know what's happening.
Not that she has the time to try and find out. (Or does she?)
"Whoa. I, well, yeah, here's my phone", she replies, handling an older model, the kind of phone that looks like it's a smartphone only because that's what everything is nowadays. "What do you think is going on?"

[The_Snark]

Unlike certain other night-shift workers, Mallory Ling is exactly where she belongs: in bed, sleepily wondering whether she really wants to get up to watch the rest of the World Series or just doze. At the moment, Just Doze is ahead, score Inertia-0. But she's awake enough to be conscious that she's sleeping the afternoon away, which is something, right? And she can hear the sounds of the TV from the other room, where her uncle is presumably watching, so she can tell if anything really exciting happens from the crowd's cheering. Almost as good as actually being there. And a lot drier.

Slowly, as minutes drift by, she shifts towards wakefulness, the nattering of the sports announcers from the TV gradually resolving themselves into intelligible words.

[OracleofSilence]

Mallory

As wakefulness slowly returns, Mallory becomes aware of a growing sussuration from the nearby shops and apartments, the muffled sounds of raised voices, punctuated by the occasional ringing of a telephone. Moments later, a sharp bark of laughter comes from her Uncle. "Hey, are you awake yet Mal? You should check this out, it looks like the Series game just got pranked or something."

Sam

It took longer to get back to the squad car then it really should have, partially due to the small crowds forming here and there on the sidewalks, and partially due to the steadfast insistence of a few passerby's that Sam clearly knew what had just happened, and as they paid her paycheck, it was her duty to inform them. Despite this, it was only a few minutes before she and her partner are back on the road and headed back to the station

Give me a Wits+Drive (Difficulty 2) check to determine to determine if any undue delays happen. The streets are starting to fill up with the curious, so failure will likely cost 10 or more minutes in travel time.

Alessa

As the screen brightens, Alessa see's the inevitable missed call or two, and a single unread message. Her coworker puts his own phone back in his pocket, either remembering that regulations were a thing after all, or growing tired of the effort to puzzle out the source of the message. "No idea. Maybe an intern with too much time on their hands? Regardless it's a crappy day to pull something like that. I'm supposed to be off in a few hours, and if management gets any big ideas, there's no way that's happening. Right. I'm Conor. I think I've seen you around, but you're pretty new right?"

February

Her phone shows a few messages, one the automated message from her support group, another from a number she doesn't recognize with the singularly unhelpful title "Hey", and one more with a blank phone number, and no title what-so ever.

[Beans]

February sighs, checking them---the automated one, the "hey" one,a nd then the mysterious one.

[Failed Phantasm]

As the phone started ringing, Nathan had to wonder who could be calling him at his apartment: he never gave out that number if it could at all be helped, and the phone company was more than happy to take his money to keep it unlisted. Almost as soon as it began, the call ended and went to voicemail, but then the phone in the apartment below his started ringing immediately after his had stopped. Then the same thing happened for the room next door to his. Nathan stood shock-still for about a minute or two, listening closely to the silence as if the phones would start ringing again; when it seemed that whatever had happened had passed, he slumped down on his couch and pulled his backpack over.

"So that's where I left you," he murmured as he fished his cell phone out of its little pocket. "I keep forgetting I have this thing." Nathan slid his finger across the screen to wake it up and unlock it, and then started looking for whatever had triggered it to vibrate — which, itself, was strange, since Nathan had put his phone on silent while he had been working.

[Mono Vertigo]

Absent-mindedly, Alessa checks the message while replying. "Yeah. Yeah. Too many people with too much free time, nowadays. So, hm, I'm Alessa, Alessa David." She hesitates a bit before smiling. "Actually, I've been working at the ER for a couple years, but this is the first time I'm working outside the hospital. First time I'm paid to do that, I mean."

[The_Snark]

"Mmf?" Mallory starts to get up, changes her mind halfway through and ends up half-flopped on the floor. Oops. Well, she's halfway up, might as well go the rest of the way at this point...

A minute later she pads out into the living room, still clad in pajamas, rubbing her eyes and blinking blearily at the TV-light. "Heywhat? Somebody TP an ad blimp or somethin?"

[OracleofSilence]

3:17pm

Sam

While the traffic is light, the detective finds it difficult to make good time back to the station, delayed by a combination of random crowds and some staggeringly unlucky red lights. Almost five minutes later, progress is still slow, and it looks like things will only grow worse. Before some new quirk of the SF traffic system has time to reveal itself however, Sam hears a muffled thud, easily several blocks away, before every light on the block goes out.

Alessa

"Huh. Well, I guess it's not exactly a small place." Conor smiles quickly, turning his attention back to the street. Tilting his head slightly quizically as a dull thump resounds in the distance. "Haven't heard that bef..." He is trails off as several streetlights flicker out, followed by the lights over the hospitals emergency entrance. "Oh. That can't be good."

On the screen in front of her, Alessa see's the half expected message : "I'm sorry."

February

The automated message is the normal bland fare from her support group, reminding her of the next meeting time and little else. The message marked "Hey" is a brief request to meet, with only a name "Constance" and a return number given. Finally, the last message has nothing but the simple message "I'm sorry"

A moment later, the power shuts off, leaving February's room pitch black aside from the now blinding light from her cell's screen.

Mallory

"Seems like everyone there just got a message or call. You could hear the ringing over the TV even. Pretty neat trick if you ask me. Probably some promotion." The clamor from the surrounding buildings has died down a little but general noises of consternation and concern are still audible. "Hey, I know you just got up, but I got a shipment in today. Some genuine collectors items. Mind helping me get it all locked up? Things'll probably get a little rowdy tonight, and I don't want to take any chances."

Nathan

Nathan see's a missed call and a single voice mail, both from a phone number he doesn't recognize, and another message, dated under a minute later then the call. The number seems familiar, probably something work related. Before he can answer either message however, every light in the apartment flickers twice and dies. Based off the shock ed yells and occasional muffled obscenity, it appears to be a building-wide issue at least.

[Anyr]

Sam paused in the act of drumming her fingers against the dashboard. A power cut? Blockwide, from the looks of it. No doubt a lot of people would draw connections between this and the mass prank call. Sam, though, resisted the urge to jump to conclusions. Contrary to popular belief, coincidences do happen. She'd reserve judgement until she had more information.

Besides, there wasn't much she could do from here. At the rate this traffic was moving, it might be faster to get out and walk. Sam radioed the station, to see if they were dark too. But beyond that, she was pretty much stuck sitting and speculating.

[Beans]

February curses, standing up and using her phone as a makeshift light as she goes to open the blinds and get some light in.
She then replies to Constance, asking how she got February's number.

[Mono Vertigo]

Discretely, Alessa tries replying to the text: "stop that plz".
The "plz" is surely too much, but she can't help it.
The flickering lights catch her attention. "Oh God, please, let's not have a blackout on top of the match!"
She hesitates to go and check at the hospital, but she might get in trouble in she leaves her post. It's probably nothing she can help with anyway.

[The_Snark]

"Huh, weird. Wonder how they got all the phone numbers. And yeah, sure. Gimme a minute to get dressed..." Mallory vanishes back into her room, door closing, and emerges about thirty seconds later in a sweatshirt and jeans.

"What've you got, anything I'd have heard of?"

[Failed Phantasm]

Nathan jolted up when the lights went out, as if the cause had been someone sneaking into his apartment and flipping the switches. The curtains were open and the sun hadn't set, so at least it wasn't pitch-black inside. Sighing quietly to himself, he got up and went over to his bed so he could rummage for his earthquake kit; he had a battery-powered lantern in there, and who knows when the power would come back?

[OracleofSilence]

Alessa

The enterance lights pop back on after a minute, although with the characteristic pale hue of emergency lighting instead of the brighter illumination of a few seconds ago. Conor laughs slightly nervously, but seems determined to at least pretend to pay attention to the road.

Alessa should make a Wits+Composure Perception roll.

February

A Moment or two later February gets a response. "Sorry about the mystery and all. I heard about you from a friend. I think they're in group with you. I wanted to meet you, being new in the city." A few seconds later, February recieves another message. "Now would be good. Power outage means no work, right?"

Sam

Sam gets a response moments later. "Power went down here as well, but the emergency generators are on. We need you at the UC hospital though. We have reports of a break in. Probably opportunistic from what we've heard." The proper protocols and technobabble ensues, but apparent stress was audible in the Dispatch officers voice before they regained their composure.

We'll say that for practicalities sake this is nearby. Probably no more then five minutes walk.

Mallory

"Oh just some journals and the like. Real popular with a certain kind of academic 'round here nowadays. On real curiosity though. I'll show yah when we get it all sorted out." His expression clearly expresses a somewhat more candid opinion: nutjobs, the lot of them.

Nathan

As Nathan searches through his supplies, he hears a series of knocks on his door, at first only faintly audible, but growing in confidence and volume fairly quickly.

[Anyr]

The dispatcher had every right to be stressed. If the power cut was really this extensive, then there'd be incidents erupting everywhere. Sam and her colleagues had their work cut out for them. This was no time to sit idly in traffic. She reached for the door of her car.

"Take the wheel; I'll walk. Bring the car over when this jam finally clears."

Without so much as glancing at her partner, Sam hopped out of the car, slammed the door, and walked away. She'd head for the hospital on foot.

[Failed Phantasm]

It didn't take much rummaging through the box he'd pulled out from under his bed before Nathan found his lantern, but as he was about to take it out, he jumped at the sound of the knocking at his door. In the moments after it had stopped, he took a few deep breaths and waited for his heart rate to settle back down. 'Christ, I'm practically jumping at shadows. Why am I so jittery today? ' He turned on his light and headed for the door, murmuring to himself, "It can't be the maintenance guy, can it? What could he even do about a power outage?"

Nathan leaned on his door and put an eye to the peephole, peering through cautiously.

[The_Snark]

"Oh yeah? Is this gonna be like the guy you showed me, whatshisname, who wrote about how Mount St Helens was actually a secret weapons testing facility hushed up by the government? That guy was awesome, he should've written science fiction." Mallory follows her uncle down the stairs, making a face as a window reminds her of the heavy rain outdoors. "You've got the stuff inside already, right? Should I grab an umbrella?"