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piper902021-08-23 05:40 pm
piper90npcs) wrote in piper902021-08-23 05:40 pm
The End of the Road
[cw: violence, mild gore, character death, shock collar punishment.]
The scene opens on the roof of the rig. A few small puddles of Stuff from the last Stuff storm shimmer here and there on the rugged metal.]
[Some of the rig executives stand there, like Fust and Glotfelty, along with several security guards. Washburn stands in front of the camera someone is holding, looking anxious. Lubitsch is there too but doesn't look happy about it. He's bristling where he stands. This maybe is not something he's there to watch by choice. It's possibly a punishment.]
[And there is Brainiac 5, kneeling on the rig roof, nose bloody, one eye swollen, jumpsuit collar rumpled.]
[Washburn says:] New Hires, I'm afraid I bring you bad news. Recent investigation into Reid Planker's death and evidence from his autopsy has discovered that his death was not from natural causes, as we first thought.
The aneurysm that killed him was caused by poison, one made from common cleaning chemicals that were found in Mr. 5's possession.
[A lie but this isn't about justice. This is "you kill one of our people, we kill one of yours." It's a frame job.]
The -
[His voice cracks. Dickwash clearly doesn't actually like this.]
The consequences for murder are severe. We are far off in the wilderness. Prisons are still being arranged and built in the Livable Zone. Martial law is the way things are handled for severe crimes on the rig.
For that reason, Mr. 5 will unfortunately have to be executed.
You are allowed view this so that the consequences of his actions are presented in an open and honest atmosphere. So you understand the overwhelming necessity of this.
I'm sorry that it's come to this.
[But things aren't going to go to plan without a hitch. "Aw, fuck it," says Lubitsch in the background and then he elbows one of the guards in the neck and upper cuts another, then grabs that one into an arm lock, breaking his elbow and dropping him to the ground before moving to the next guard. Clearly, he's well trained, and his frequent laziness has been hiding something.]
[Where he kneels, there is a sudden clink from Brainy picking the handcuffs with bits of metal he keeps in hidden pockets in his clothes, and the handcuffs drop to the deck. Brainy pops up to his feet, and lunges for the nearest guard, using him as a shield, directing his gun away and forcing him to fire. He aims for the feet of the other guards, a debilitating but hopefully nonfatal injury. But he's aiming for the guards, not the executives. He's ranked the threats, and the executives rank low, especially Celeste Lillian.]
[This is a mistake.]
[Because Celeste is always packing a concealed gun and is a crack shot thanks to her CIA training. The gun is drawn and the shot over the guard's shoulder is on the mark. The personality inhibitor on Brainy's forehead shatters. He staggers back several steps, green blood pouring down his face.]
["No!" calls out Lubitsch, but Washburn pulls out the same clicker device he uses to shock the New Hires and Lubitsch goes down, too, twitching and convulsing as he gets shocked.]
[Brainy falls back against the railing of the rig's roof, eyes wide with shock. Several more shots of gunfire ring out, blood spatters, and new wounds appear in his chest. Celeste re-holsters her gun and walks over to where he's leaning against the railing. Then she reaches down to grab his legs, lifts them up and casually tips him over the railing. Just like that, he's gone.]
[She walks over to whoever is holding the camera. There is no vapid grin, no airheaded woo-woo.]
[She says:] Planker's last medical scans showed no signs of a budding aneurysm. We're not idiots. But even if it was natural causes, we will respond if circumstances of a staff member's death seem questionable.
No more games. No more pretense. You are all going to follow orders or suffer the consequences. And any attacks on rig staff will result in immediate retribution.
Now, with this...distraction over, attend to the new mission at hand. Your orders will be forthcoming and we expect you to follow them.
[Washburn cuts out the shock therapy and Lubitsch stays there, shaking, on the ground, tears in his eyes. Washburn's face is almost green as he looks at the green blood spattered on the deck.]
[Celeste nods at the camera person and the video cuts out.]
[ooc: Characters can react in the comments and just lock their conversations.]
The scene opens on the roof of the rig. A few small puddles of Stuff from the last Stuff storm shimmer here and there on the rugged metal.]
[Some of the rig executives stand there, like Fust and Glotfelty, along with several security guards. Washburn stands in front of the camera someone is holding, looking anxious. Lubitsch is there too but doesn't look happy about it. He's bristling where he stands. This maybe is not something he's there to watch by choice. It's possibly a punishment.]
[And there is Brainiac 5, kneeling on the rig roof, nose bloody, one eye swollen, jumpsuit collar rumpled.]
[Washburn says:] New Hires, I'm afraid I bring you bad news. Recent investigation into Reid Planker's death and evidence from his autopsy has discovered that his death was not from natural causes, as we first thought.
The aneurysm that killed him was caused by poison, one made from common cleaning chemicals that were found in Mr. 5's possession.
[A lie but this isn't about justice. This is "you kill one of our people, we kill one of yours." It's a frame job.]
The -
[His voice cracks. Dickwash clearly doesn't actually like this.]
The consequences for murder are severe. We are far off in the wilderness. Prisons are still being arranged and built in the Livable Zone. Martial law is the way things are handled for severe crimes on the rig.
For that reason, Mr. 5 will unfortunately have to be executed.
You are allowed view this so that the consequences of his actions are presented in an open and honest atmosphere. So you understand the overwhelming necessity of this.
I'm sorry that it's come to this.
[But things aren't going to go to plan without a hitch. "Aw, fuck it," says Lubitsch in the background and then he elbows one of the guards in the neck and upper cuts another, then grabs that one into an arm lock, breaking his elbow and dropping him to the ground before moving to the next guard. Clearly, he's well trained, and his frequent laziness has been hiding something.]
[Where he kneels, there is a sudden clink from Brainy picking the handcuffs with bits of metal he keeps in hidden pockets in his clothes, and the handcuffs drop to the deck. Brainy pops up to his feet, and lunges for the nearest guard, using him as a shield, directing his gun away and forcing him to fire. He aims for the feet of the other guards, a debilitating but hopefully nonfatal injury. But he's aiming for the guards, not the executives. He's ranked the threats, and the executives rank low, especially Celeste Lillian.]
[This is a mistake.]
[Because Celeste is always packing a concealed gun and is a crack shot thanks to her CIA training. The gun is drawn and the shot over the guard's shoulder is on the mark. The personality inhibitor on Brainy's forehead shatters. He staggers back several steps, green blood pouring down his face.]
["No!" calls out Lubitsch, but Washburn pulls out the same clicker device he uses to shock the New Hires and Lubitsch goes down, too, twitching and convulsing as he gets shocked.]
[Brainy falls back against the railing of the rig's roof, eyes wide with shock. Several more shots of gunfire ring out, blood spatters, and new wounds appear in his chest. Celeste re-holsters her gun and walks over to where he's leaning against the railing. Then she reaches down to grab his legs, lifts them up and casually tips him over the railing. Just like that, he's gone.]
[She walks over to whoever is holding the camera. There is no vapid grin, no airheaded woo-woo.]
[She says:] Planker's last medical scans showed no signs of a budding aneurysm. We're not idiots. But even if it was natural causes, we will respond if circumstances of a staff member's death seem questionable.
No more games. No more pretense. You are all going to follow orders or suffer the consequences. And any attacks on rig staff will result in immediate retribution.
Now, with this...distraction over, attend to the new mission at hand. Your orders will be forthcoming and we expect you to follow them.
[Washburn cuts out the shock therapy and Lubitsch stays there, shaking, on the ground, tears in his eyes. Washburn's face is almost green as he looks at the green blood spattered on the deck.]
[Celeste nods at the camera person and the video cuts out.]
[ooc: Characters can react in the comments and just lock their conversations.]
CW: Thread has potential for self harm in future tags.
And it will come, if none of them stop it. He’s going to head to the roof - he needs to be there, where he can do something. Anything. This is - this is what he’s been afraid of since the second Brainy set up the Lonestar account.
He can hear the change in the scene and glances at the feed in time to see Lubitsch go for the second or third guard.
And then Brainy’s joined the fray, and there’s a pit in Robbie’s stomach that could devour star systems because even if he could tell himself to stop watching and start moving, he is never going to make it to the roof in time to make a difference in this fight. Whatever’s about to happen is essentially already done.
One shot. Lubitsch goes down and Robbie doesn’t want to watch. Can’t. He shuts his eyes against the shots the follow, opens them too soon and sees her throwing Brainy overheard like he’s nothing when he’s everything that Robbie ever needed. That they fucking needed if they had just let him actually help.
There’s so much green blood.
Robbie stands there for a good minute, unmoving. He holds himself so tensely that he’s surprised bones don’t snap under the pressure. Up or down. Up… or down.
Down. He doesn’t head for the roof. Instead, Robbie heads in whatever direction will get him as close to the ground as possible, because he has every intention of cracking the Rig in half like a fucking egg if no one stops him. There’s no second half to his plan. Brainy did the plans, and Robbie’s not going home and explaining to everyone that he couldn’t keep Brainy alive for one measly year.
He just wants to end Jorgmund. Whatever comes after can’t be this bad.
It’s only mildly more respectable than tying that asshole up and personally ensuring the Rig runs her over. ]
no subject
Mr Baldwin, are you alright?
no subject
This is what he happens when he tries to have more than nothing. This, what he has left right here in the immediate aftermath of trauma is the real truth, not all those affirmations. If he actually deserved loved ones, maybe he could keep them breathing for once.
Robbie tries to sidestep around Price. ]
You need to somewhere else, doc.
no subject
[Whether Robbie wants medical help or just another pair of hands that will help him burn this place to the ground, Price is going to have fun either way.]
no subject
[ There’s no about here. He’s not about to have a crisis. The crisis is over. He did nothing to stop it. That’s as good as being an active participant, right? If you don’t stop it, you might as well have caused it, right?
(Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. He knows it, but he has nowhere to focus his shock and growing guilt.) ]
I need this death tank in freaking pieces outside a 50 foot blast radius!
[ Feel the guilt and anger phase stage kicking in? Superhero types don’t have the luxury of a separate, prolonged shock/denial stage. Not the ones that live any length. ]
no subject
I can provide lasers, if you need some.
[A smirk appears on his face.]
I can create sharp shards of ice with the freezing ones. They might come in handy if you are considering slitting someone's throat. You wouldn't have to hide the weapon.
no subject
[ Collateral damage is… fine, because he’s not actually allowing himself to think about what blasting a large enough hole in the Rig to stop it would do to the people inside it.
Slitting someone’s throat is up close and personal. It’s messy. It’s murder instead of taking out a prime equipment target. The offer is a step too far for Robbie, who would use concussive blasts and blunt force trauma if it came to that. ]
Stay out of it. The only one who needs to risk their neck is me.
no subject
[He's disappointed that no one is getting murdered. Shame, it could have been fun.]
I am aware that you don't trust me, Mr Baldwin, but breaking things is my specialty. Allow me to help.
[It's been a while since he blew up Florida already, he's suffering the withdrawal.]
Re: CW: Thread has potential for self harm in future tags.
That's why, when Robbie tries to make his way down to the bottom levels of the Rig, he finds his path interrupted by a Viking and a dragon.
From the expression on Robbie's face, Hiccup guesses he caught up to him just in time.]
Robbie, whatever you're planning, don't. Please.
[A part of Hiccup very much wants to let him do it, but this isn't the right time for it.]
no subject
[ It’s not angry. It’s not really anything; it’s just words that feel like they don’t fit in his mouth. ]
Legionnaires don’t kill other than a provable situation of self-defense or as a provable only available alternative to the death of sentient beings. It’s 4 point 3 point 8 in the Constitution. Querl -
[ Robbie’s throat instantly tightens at the name and his voice thickens with emotion. He knows what section it is because of Querl. Querl knows every citation.
Knew.
Knew.
… ]
They’re picking off slaves in kangaroo court and we’re on a slow roll to a village that they’ve told us we’re going to be forced to bring to heel by any means necessary. They’re going to force us to murder innocent people. This isn’t about Brainy.
[ It’s absolutely also about Brainy. ]
I’m stopping the Rig. I’m done.
no subject
[Because while Robbie may not be angry, or at least not capable of displaying that emotion, Hiccup is absolutely pissed. But there's a responsibility waiting for him back home, the same one that's waiting for Robbie.]
But if you do this now, you're going to get yourself killed. And you don't get to be the person who does that anymore. Neither of us do. There are kids waiting for us, and right now you are the last parent Merl has.
no subject
I’m the p-
[ The interruption, such as it was, stops quickly. He was going to say he was the right choice, because the people who would miss him had a good support system.
But Merl was just a kid. A toddler. Who was going to threaten moons and galaxies for him if his dad wasn’t there? ]
I’m not…
[ He’s not Merl’s dad. And they weren’t married. Colu is going to eat the Legion’s custody case for breakfast.
And Querl already made it clear how far he was willing to go for Merl, what he was worth. ]
Uncle. I told Brainy I was gunning for being the cool uncle. I told him I wanted Merl to know that he always had…
[ No, it’s too much, and far too prescient a discussion in hindsight. He didn’t know that he’d have to watch Brainy get shot in the head before the kid made it to preschool. ]
I can’t talk about this yet.
[ She threw him over the side like a dead minnow. ]
no subject
Merl needs you, whatever you decide you are to him. And, somewhat more immediately, so do I.
no subject
[ But at least then he wouldn’t hurt anymore. If Hiccup needs him, that’s enough of a reason to actively avoid dying. Robbie can come up with reasons that Merl would maybe be okay without him, even one or two where he’d be better off.
Hiccup, though, has to get home to Astrid and Zephyr. It’s that simple. Robbie can shovel the mess of emotions down into his subconscious and get Hiccup through this.
Like he’s planned to risk everything to get Brainy through this? See how well that turned out. He can’t do it alone. He can wreck things alone, he can get himself into trouble alone, but he never manages to Save the Day alone. That’s for better heroes. Better sentients.
He wants to scream and rage and make them feel like there’s nothing left worth salvaging. He wants to hurt them. He wants to be able to flip a switch and disconnect entirely. But he can’t do that, because there are things worth salvaging. ]
Just tell me what you need. I’ll do anything it takes.
no subject
Anything else we'll play by ear for now.
[locked to new hires] [video]
[ What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck.
Oh, no. No no no. There was the message from Lonestar, from Brainy, but even then she didn't really expect... there's having an existential threat hung over the heads of you and everyone around you, and there's seeing it turn from a threat into reality. She can't even imagine how the people really close to Brainy are feeling right now. Fuck, she feels sick.
She will never get used to watching people die. Yet it's always impossible to tear your eyes away.
When she actually turns her feed on, she's putting on about as brave a face as a teenager can—but her eyes and her drooping ears give her away. ]
They— that was them makin' an example of him, wasn't it? They're really cracking down. If we don't do what they say, or we don't make a move and get outta here soon...
[ She steels herself another notch. Forces her ears upright to mimic a confidence she is in no way feeling. ]
...I'm gonna look through the data he left, try figure out as much as I can whilst I can. We need these damned collars off or we cannae do fuck shit.
[ That's what she's good at. That's what she can do for everyone, for Brainy. He left them the data and she'll be damned if she doesn't at least try to finish what was started, to get them out of this hell hole. ]
Re: [locked to new hires] [video]
[It was too familiar, too much like Ted's death. Televised. Casually cruel and murderous. He didn't know this Brainiac guy well but the situation stirred up all kinds of bad memories.]
[He keeps checking his comm hoping there will be a call to action soon. At this point, risking death and gunning for it is better than just waiting to die.]
[There's not much he can do right now but there is one way he can help. He knows Cammie is working hard on this and every time he checks in, she's still working on it.]
[That kind of work needs fuel. So he goes to the cafeteria and comes back with a tray.]
Here. You need to eat and drink something. This kind of brain work can take a lot out of you.
[Ted used to raid the fridge frequently when he was working on something in his workshop and trying to teach Jaime some engineering skills.]
no subject
[ Every time he comes in, the only change seems to be the position she's sitting in. From perched in her signature knees-up, balanced on her tip-toes stance, to laying on her front, to sitting cross legged... she's not a statue, but she's always focused on the work in front of her. Intensely so.
She has to figure this out. Brainy's gone, so it's on her. Everyone's counting on her. It's a feeling she's familiar with and it's the kind of pressure that drives her to work, not to crack under it. She can be grateful for that.
When he comes back with the tray, it's the first time she actually looks up at him. There's a slightly lost look on her face as she sort of snaps back to reality, blinking once or twice. ]
Oh. Right. Guess I should... do that. Thanks, Jaime. Uh— put it down on the bed, I'll get to it.
[ Not a response that makes it seem like she's going to dig right in, no matter how much she should. ]
no subject
[Then after some time has passed he gets up to poke her shoulder. Repeatedly. Annoyingly.]
Hey. You really need to eat.
I know you want to figure out an answer to this, but you'll be able to concentrate better if you eat and drink something.
You have to take care of yourself to take care of the rest of us.
no subject
Jaiiime.
[ It's the true dramatic whine of a teenager. She bats once, half-heartedly, at the offending poking hand, but when it becomes clear he’s not stopping she groans and finally lifts her eyes from her comm. to look at Jaime again. ]
Seriously, I’m fine. Promise. I did some of my best work on like, two hours sleep a night! Tops! Nevermind food or anythin'. I'm not even hung—
[ Her stomach betrays her before she can even finish the word, rumbling loudly. Cammie sighs, rolling over and jabbing herself in the stomach with a finger. ]
Whose side are you on, huh? Ach, okay, alright, I guess a few minutes won’t hurt.
[ Her voice says the opposite: every minute hurts right now. Every minute she’s not working is another minute they can’t move forward because she hasn’t figured it out yet. But, still, she sets down her comm. on the bed and sits up, reluctantly as it is, and grabs the drink first intending just to take a sip. She ends up taking a long, long drink, instead. Wow. Okay. Maybe her throat was a little dry. ]
...okay, maybe you're onto something.
no subject
[Especially after what they all saw.]
It might be what cuts us loose. But you still have to take care of yourself.
no subject
[ She sighs, shoulders and ears both drooping. She looks… small, for a moment. Wiping her mouth, she sets the already three-quarters empty drink back down and starts picking at the food.
Her appetite’s kind of suffering, after… well, after that. But she is hungry. And Jaime’s right, she knows he is. So she takes it slow, but she does eat. ]
Ye think ye’d get used to it. Death, I mean. But… no. Ye don’t, do ye? Especially not… like that.
[ She chews. Swallows. Breathes.
The thing is, when she’s working, she doesn’t have to think about the rest. She can pretend she didn’t just watch a public execution of a good person she didn’t know all that well, but definitely had—has—respect for. ]
This— this part’s down to me, y’know? I’m not a fighter. Not like this. [ she gestures at herself ] But if I can just figure this out… then maybe the rest of ye can give ‘em hell.
no subject
What are our orders?