genessia | Criminal Scum [Backdated 6/28, Action]

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Criminal Scum [Backdated 6/28, Action]

[Somehow their motley crew had made it off that insipid island and back to shore. An inane adventure, yet far more comfortable than the date with destiny he had planned. And just in time for the crime spree event, too. Happily, it seemed to have few takers, and the ones who really made a mess had an early start the voyage made him miss.

Lord, how he's changed. Years ago he would've been champing at the bit to play hero. And now it all seems to hollow that petty antagonism moves him more. At least the timing lines up. If he has to commit the biggest crime of his life today, at least it'll be worth something. He rang up the cyborg whose sole decision would determine if he'd enjoy peace or turmoil.]

"Hello, Grievous? It's Ted. I'm back from that cruise I mentioned. Might we have that meeting today, at a quarter past eleven pm? I'll understand if it's a bad time, what with the criminal encouragement. I repeat it must be absolutely private. Very sensitive subjects."

[That'll give him the rest of the day to goof off with his own misdemeanors. It would make for some light comedy before tragedy. To the library, and then his downward spiral.]

[OOC note: These crimes aren't actually in-game for SERIOUS BUSINESS, I'm just making them up using IRL crimes for inspiration. Feel free to stop him anyway! Except that last one that'll ruin his life forever. That one's all Grievous.]

A. Thou shalt not dance (Genessia City, noon, OTA)

[Genessia City took its strange nationalism very seriously. It was allegedly illegal to bust a move during the anthem, lest one's lack of patriotism offend. Ted got right next to the outer ring of a baseball game, and waited for his cue.]

City of splendor, City of beauty, Genessia so sweet and fair...

[His legs start moving, shuffling to and fro as he flagrantly defiled such civil sentiment. Someone stop this vulgarity!]

B. Thou shalt not eat with undue refinement (Gen. City, 1pm, OTA)

[Genessia City was also, once upon a time, very proud of its fried poultry. It insisted, nay, demanded that it be enjoyed as finger food. No silverware may dare profane their proud chicken. To the diner he goes.]

"I'll have the drumsticks, please."
"Comin' right up sweetheart."

[The repast arrives. His hands treacherously reach for the napkin. The perverse utensils are drawn, like a sword to slay a king. He puts the prongs and the knife to the meat.

And he cuts. He cuts the chicken, and with it, lays waste to all the honor it accrued over Genessia City's storied, almost certainly false history. Desecration.]

C. Thou shalt not monger vegetables of insufficient quality [Fayren alley, 2:30pm, OTA]

[A guild of farmers imposed a law, in order to keep their quality consistent, that any pickle that would not bounce was unfit for sale, and should never grace a farmer's stall.

He sought one out, bought it, and tested it. It was tested again and again until it limply struck the ground. The bounce was removed. Now all he needs is a buyer. He hung around one of the rowdier taverns, waiting for an expulsion.

A drunken rabble-rouser was forced out, with injunctions from the owner to never blight their doorway again. Or at least until they had more money. Perfect.]

"Good afternoon, sir. Would you buy this pickle for a red bill?"

[Ted was skeptically scanned.]

"The hell would I do that? *hic*"

[It gets worse.]

D. Thou shalt not commerce with drunks [Fayren alley, 2:45 pm, OTA]

"Because if you do, I'll buy back for ten times that purchase."

[It was more sensibly illegal to trade with the inebriated, a law enacted out of charity for their suggestive condition. That's right: Ted's committing double-crime.]

"So...I uh, get nine bills? What do you get?"

"Satisfaction."

[The drunk mulled it over good and hard, counting on his fingers for want of assurance.]

"Uh, sure, ya madman! Give it here."

[The exchange was completed, Ted nine bills poorer with no change in pickle ownership. Scandalous]

E. Thou shalt not own nuclear arms [Anywhere, anytime, OTA]

[Yes, it's actually illegal for civilians to carry nukes willy-nilly, a law presumably enacted to mollify bed-wetting pansies. And yet, Ted broke that one all day, every day without a care, and was never once apprehended. How did this criminal mastermind pull that off?

The sinister secret lie in his life-fiber vest, outfitted to produce antimatter for whatever he touched. A volatile power that Satsuki, in her impenetrable wisdom, saw fit to bestow upon him. Granted, that's an article of clothing, and it's antimatter, not nuclear power, but that's all semantics. The point is, were Ted so inclined, he could prove to the world for miles around that "ash" could be a verb.

The world may breathe a sigh of collective relief that, astoundingly, he never saw much point to vaporizing all and sundry. Phew! And yet the criminal lurks, just...walking around. As if he doesn't hold a weapon no man should. As if he isn't Armageddon in a shirt. Who will save us from this explosion-wielding clown!?]

F. Thou shalt not disturb curfew with vulgar pyrotechnics [Genessia City Park, 11:01 pm, OTA]

[No fireworks past eleven. Devil-worshiper that he is, Ted waited a minute past, then threw out a thread to dispense the tiniest bit of antimatter high in the air.]

*PAFF*

[He supposed that qualified as using nuclear weaponry too. Another double-whammy. That was his pathetic celebration of the coming end to normal life. For all the flak he gives world for being so false and vain, it nonetheless grew on him. He was a productive member of this fake society. He hunted bounties. He helped out people on the network when he could. He was one of the "good guys", if not especially popular.

A knot formed in his chest. That may all come to an end depending on how amiable Grievous is to his demands. It wasn't much of a life, diminishing with every disappeared loved one, but...what can he say? He'll miss it.

He remembers reading about one lovely comparison between the Orient and the Occident. It was how they handled light. The west had stained glass windows, and the east had fireworks. The former is superior, for that light stayed and illuminated. The latter is inferior, because that one died and gave in to the darkness it only stopped for a moment. He wistfully sighed.]

"Would I had the power of stained glass windows."

G. Thou shalt not steal. [Nova City Guardian Skyrise, Action, Closed]

[If Grievous came through, this would be the night. The fateful, horrible evening he'd been dreading for years. He looked up at the building, seeing it as a monument to the world's evil. So he made his preparations, loosing many dark, slim threads to create a three-dimensional barrier that could, upon his command, surround and blacken the whole awful edifice, leaving it and its wicked contents at his mercy. That was the threat. He prays he need not follow through on it. Grimly he made his way inside. One way or another, it all ends here.]

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[Grievous took warnings and threats to the city seriously - very seriously - and when Ted had told him about a potential lurking evil then he had to know everything about it and act as soon as possible. If privacy was important, Grievous decided that instead of meeting at the Guardian offices, even at that late hour when few would be around, he would invite Ted back to his private apartment and so he gave the address: Unit 011 at The Ave in Nova City. It was a modest accommodation, even for a Deputy - a *** star salary priced apartment - but Grievous needed little in the way of home comforts or space for himself alone and the rest of his pay went into his Trauma Centre. The apartment was made of moving walls that could form into various rooms, to basically be one room at a time. If Ted agreed to meet there, he would find a neat space cleared as a living room with a table and a couple of basic chairs. The space was plain otherwise. Anything of interest was likely hidden away in the drawers and cabinets within the movable walls. The meeting so late at night wasn't an issue for the cyborg who needed very little rest. Nights were usually spent patrolling, prior to becoming Guardian. Now he had more to do, but he did still do some patrolling. He waited for Ted's response or simply for him agree to the location and appear.]

[The change in location was one he didn't expect. It made logistical sense, at least on Grievous' side. It wouldn't be easy to vacate an entire building for just the two of them, and it would raise suspicions besides. This might even be better; there's less security, for one, and if he really does have to throw caution to the wind and go all out...well, the threads can hold, even from a great distance. He'll be back, Skyrise. With what intent remains to be seen.]

That'll be fine, Grievous. I'll be there soon.

[His word good, Ted made his way over, one imperceptible thread trailing behind and connecting the massive dome he'd created to snap like a trap, if needed. This will be a night to remember.

He raps on the door. Shave and a haircut...]

Edited 2019-07-05 02:55 (UTC)

[Grievous answer the door promptly, opening it wide for his visitor to enter.]

Come in...

[He stands back, ushering Ted inside and indicating a chair.]

Tell me all that you know.

[That prompts a faint smile.]

Not one for pleasantries, eh? Naught in the candy dish?

[Just can't help his want for comic relief. He takes the chair. Might as well cut to the chase. The tension won't clear until all's said.]

All right.

[His mood and tone increase in gravity, though still even and composed.]

What do you know of the "black spirits" outside the barrier?

[He certainly isn't one for small talk.]

My only concern is what is inside the barrier.

[In other words, he knows little to nothing about what's outside. If they were not invading the city, they don't particularly worry him one way or another.]

[He'll take that as a "precious little". Not a good start; he'd feel more at ease with one more curious, or less rigid. Well, the subject at hand is certainly inside.]

I see. Are you familiar with the weapons project David Haller enacted that used them principally?

Edited 2019-07-05 04:31 (UTC)

As Deputy, I was only informed of immediate threats. I do not recall this weapons project.

[But he clearly appears more interested.]

[He's not sure if that's a good sign or a bad one. Should he be happy for blissful ignorance, or anxious that the Guardians, apparently, were so incompetent that even basic communication of their designs was nonexistent?]

...Let's, first, review what we know of the black spirits so far. They are known for their utter lack of emotion, and their insatiable hunger for the same. Because us, the pendant-bearers, are the only ones with legitimate emotions, they seek us exclusively. Should an attack of theirs prove successful, the victim will act much like they do, as though one infected. They will lose all sense of morality and much of self, becoming just as ravenous for emotion as the black spirits. They still retain their form and intellect, which they use solely to further their goal of want for feeling.

The remedies for this condition are love, death, or the Bay waters.

The spirits are difficult to repel, as only spiritual means will defeat them completely. "Like defeating like", if you will. Exorcism, or sealing away in something to the purpose, are other ways to neutralize them.

Do you accept all this?

I understand.

Do you suspect that they are planning an attack?

[There's a singleminded focus on city protection here. Everything is a potential threat. He's not thinking about more complicated issues just yet.]

[Oh, he gets that.]

...I'm not sure you fully appreciate the sorriness of their condition. I doubt they plan anything at all. Whatever intellect they have has been consumed by ravenous want. One might as well wonder whether earthquakes scheme, or thunderstorms plot.

[Still, only someone who felt a hint of personhood would ask such a thing.]

Allow a digression. You manage a counseling center too, don't you? Might I ask why?

[It seems a strange detour of conversation to him but he answers it.]

I know what it is to despair. I wished to offer services to help those in similar need. Some may gain peace from such healers.

[Even if he himself has never found such comfort.]

[Ah. The reasoning might have worked better were it a mental trauma center. Well, perhaps he'll make the connection anyway.]

I see. Forgive my layman's understanding, but trauma is largely something, through no fault of those it affects, that impairs their ability to healthily live, is it not?

It can be different for different people and different causes of the trauma.

However, in basic terms, you are correct. If it something so traumatic that they cannot continue to live well, then my Centre may be of help.

Are you in need of counselling?

[He's completely missing the point.]

[That made him laugh a little.]

No, thank you.

[Others might disagree with that.]

Mm. Suppose one were especially traumatized. So utterly maligned on every level that your Centre, for the moment, could not help them. What would be your solution then? Cutting their throats?

[If Grievous had eyebrows, he would raise them. As it is, Ted gets a quizzical look.]

That is an extreme measure and not at all helpful to the public in need.

If you are referring to criminals, then they should be dealt with by the law here.

Oh, no. A criminal has the power of agency. One traumatized, we've agreed, is a victim, and enjoys no such luxury, however dangerous they are. Though, perhaps, an especially dangerous trauma victim's death may be found very "needful" by the public.

[He lets that linger for a moment.]

These black spirits we've discussed. Which, if you had to choose, would you say they are?

By your words, it seems that they are beyond reason and so are only a threat, should they interfere with or go beyond our barriers.

As such, even if they could be called victims in one sense, they should be aggressively dealt with and contained.

"Dealt aggressively". Would that include slaying?

If they could not be imprisoned.

[Not a promising way they're going, but he supposes there's nothing for it.]

A minute ago you said that taking such measures on another kind of victim would be "extreme." How do you reconcile the two views?

Some are beyond help.

If their single-minded purpose is to harm the citizens of Genessia in general and Nova City in particular than I would have no choice except to destroy them.

[His compassion is very thinly spread and selective. To him, destruction is as valid an option.]

[A pit forms in his stomach. He had the sinking feeling things would turn out this way. But in a way, it's not all bad. He'd discovered all he needed to, and without saying more than he planned. He knew enough to retract, once and for all, the benefit of the doubt he'd been giving the Guardians. The way was clearer.

His expression enjoys some variety. At first, grave concern. Then, inexplicably, a light laugh, as though noxious burden was shed.]

Eheh...thank you for indulging me, Grievous. I've nothing further to discuss for the moment.

[He rose out of his seat, and made for the exit.]

Good evening.

[The CPU told him everything he needed to know for tonight. There was good news and bad news. For the former: the weapons could not truly kill as advertised. Thank God. That means the spirits could still be saved no matter how awful the Guardians were. The bad news? The (good) spirits couldn't get them on their own. Ted needed to be nearer. Which meant he had to infiltrate the Skyrise himself and find where the weapons were located. No simple feat; even Grievous, astoundingly, didn't know.

It was time for the life-fibers to perform. The thin dome he'd set up around the skyscraper suddenly filled in with pitch blackness, covering every inch. From the outside, it would look as though it'd become a three-dimensional silhouette of its former self.

Next, he had to dig. With the noise of thunder, antimatter explosions propelled the bottom threads to tunnel underground and penetrate the foundation so that it could be covered from all sides.

He needed to make this racket and fuss so that his void could eclipse the building completely. This would allow Ted to know, on an eidetic level, where every non-living thing was now that it lied in the void's domain. No fancy hacker skills or blueprint-knowhow here, just good old-fashioned overkill. Alarm, both literal and figurative, burst from the surroundings as astonished onlookers saw the symbol of authority plunged in cacophony and darkness. Electronically, it was off the grid. Ted had to finish quickly and leave the city before he attracted too much attention.

He mentally pored over the contents of the entire building. It went faster than otherwise, for he knew what to look for: medieval weaponry. It would be totally out of place in every room but the one he needed. Once his brain had the image of a crossbow, he used the threads to teleport in to that very place.

He'd got it. These were the lockers Weiss mentioned. This place had been tucked into a room rife with security and a large network of tubes and teleporters to distribute as needed. Funny how neglect and bad communication made sure they never would. With instantaneous speed, he produced his phone to message the CPU.]

I've found them. Pray remove them speedily, and alert me once you have.

[Lord, may the CPU or the spirits or whomever be quick. He'd rather not keep the skyscraper voided for much longer.]

Edited 2019-08-16 23:56 (UTC)

[Ever awake, Grievous happened to not be in the building at the time but he wasn't far away and the news got to him quickly from frightened witnesses. He headed swiftly toward the highrise to find out what was going on. It was a confusing sight, and he messaged his deputies to come at once, then he went closer to investigate.]

[Trunks had been sleeping somewhat better. Then people had been vanishing again, including Bulla. And Seventeen. (He'd never expected to actually be somewhat friends with the android, but that was what they'd become.)

It meant Grievous' message woke him easily and had him responding swiftly. Sword grabbed and over his back, heading for the Guardian Sky-rise.]

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Criminal Scum [Backdated 6/28, Action]

Private meeting time

So, so [Private]

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Part 2! Action, kinda!

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Deputy-responding, just let me know when/which thread to tag.