janitorscloset | [Event] Introduction to the Nexus / MoI crash

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[Event] Introduction to the Nexus / MoI crash

I.
Within the fabric of the multiverse the differing possibilities of each branch are woven, overlapping but separate, converging and looping at times, but often wriggling apart by ever-increasing degrees until the substance of it is thick with possibilities. This fabric is five-dimensional, not recognizable in its true form to the beings that are forced to live within the constraints of linear time and three-dimensional space. Unknown to those who live out the events contained within it, the sense of it is only kept by the special properties of the interactions between universes—it would seem that each universe is independent, but the nature of this fabric is such that certain events—convergence events—tie each universe together in an indelible way.

This is not to say that these convergence events all take place in the same way in each universe. But there are key threads that cannot be unraveled from their neighbors, and though the players in a scene may not all be the same in each universe, the moments contained in these convergence points are so tightly woven that in some ways they may be indistinguishable from their neighbors.

II.
An indelible part of those universes where Project Freelancer came to be is the fact that the Project could not succeed. It was based on flawed theories, illegal activities, biased science, no matter which lifetime this particular founder of the Project was living out. And so its failure, or more specifically that moment where its impending failure came to a head, became a convergence event. Like a network of strong magnets, the turning point brought the multiverse together in an intimately linked way. For this reason, when in one universe the ship Mother of Invention fired upon itself and began its descent into the atmosphere of the nearby planet, it sent shockwaves of destiny through the multiverse, bringing each doom destined for Project Freelancer into clear focus.

Much of the technology in the Project's facilities, both on the ship and the planet itself, were experimental. Dimension-hopping was one of the unsanctioned activities taking place under the Project's purview, though it was intended for fast travel through space within the same universe rather than through the multiverse itself. This didn't change the fact that once again, the Project was messing around with things that weren't entirely understood. The emotional states of the users of the dimensional portals had a huge effect on them—and the person effecting the portal didn't necessarily have to be actively using it, either. This wasn't known or considered when the Project moved one of its portals from its planet-side facility to the labs on the ship.

III.
And so it was that the combined anger, fear, and desperation of the occupants of the ship at the time it crashed reprogrammed the portal in the ship's belly, and in turn created havoc in the transporter nexus that resided on the planet. Like an arc of electricity sparking from a Tesla coil, the wave of reprogramming touched every portal in the nexus. Every portal would now lead to the Mother of Invention in the aftermath of the crash. Worse than this, it caused the portals in the nexus to draw in users from other parts of the multiverse. They would enter the nexus unknowingly, simply hearing a ringing like crystal and finding themselves within it. Attempting to leave would simply send them to the Mother of Invention at a most dangerous time.

IV.

Timeline of events:

• Day 1: Residents of other times and places will find themselves on the planet containing Freelancer facilities in the teleporter nexus. Everyone who comes to the nexus will find that their cell phone, 2-way radio, comm device, or helmet radio can be used to communicate with anyone else who has arrived in the nexus at any point. Attempting to leave the nexus via any portal will lead to the crash site of the Mother of Invention. Recovery agents and guards will be evident all around the grounds, but things are chaotic. It will be impossible to locate the end portal the character arrived through to return to the nexus.

• Days 2-5: Things are calming down at the site, but time itself will seem to be undergoing an echo effect—recovery agents and guards will still be on patrol, but as time goes by they will seem to be in several places at once and though they may spot characters who arrive, they will be unable to apprehend them. The end portals that lead back to the nexus will be intermittently visible, but in a shivery way that will make it difficult to use them to return. When one manages to return to the nexus, they will find that they're unable to reprogram the teleporters. Teleporters now lead to various locations, however, rather than just the ship crash site—they also lead to various bases inhabited by simulation troops. Like the guards and recovery agents at the crash site, however, the simulation troops will not be quite able to interact with the characters who have arrived.

• Days 6-10: The shivers that are going through time and space now seem to be settling down, and the teleporters are increasingly responsive to attempts to reprogram them. By the time the ten days are up it's easy to cycle them between other Freelancer and UNSC facilities, and many technologically-savvy characters will be able to deduce the fact that there is a resonant frequency inherent to their own universe that can be programmed into a teleporter via their radio or comm device.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Because you let them out of your sight, so something ridiculous happened. And explosions. Ridiculous and explosions like to happen as far as I can tell.

You'll be the psychopath full of shrapnel, about to die on the ground, and they will go and decide to keep you from dying. Before you can be bitter about it, then they actually save you. [Because it was the act of kindness that saved him, not the keeping him from dying part.]

They're really not so bad when you get to know them. They're...heh, honestly, they're pretty amazing. [And he won't even fight the fondness seeping into his voice because fuck your bitterness, Wash, he keeps trying to fight that shit because he worries his friends enough with his crazy.]

Ridiculous things always happen when they're around. I'm sick of it. [Maybe then they'd be dragged into the same reality as the rest of them.]

I'm not a psychopath. And I don't need saving. [And maybe he doesn't want to be saved.]

They're idiots. They screwed me over. I'm going to stop them.

Normally, I'd agree, but...

You shot him. [Donut didn't recognize him, didn't know him. They had just met.]

[And now he actually looks mad. It's muted, controlled, but mostly because more than anger, it's self loathing.] The funny thing is I knew it was coming. I mention it in a future memory, and I realized that these idiots saved me after I shot one of their own. I thought...I thought maybe I had a reason. It would be unnecessary because they're idiots, I wouldn't need to kill them.

But I didn't. And you didn't.

He was an innocent bystander. Defenseless. You did it to prove you were dangerous, and because you could.

You need saving. Even if you don't want it. [Because he knows there's days he doesn't.]

I've shot a lot of people.

[Wash tilts his head, curious about the look on his double's face.]

They're Sim Troopers. If you are me, then you know we've killed plenty of them on training missions. I don't see why shooting one of them now makes any difference at all. [He'd got in the way of a mission. So Wash had killed him. That was what happened when people got in the way.]

The only thing I need, is to find Epsilon and hand him over. That is saving me plenty.

[Wait, he's done WHAT NOW?]

[Well, won't those be MORE fun memories to get.]

[Yaaaaaay.]

[He hates his life.]

Actually, I get to relive everything piece by piece, so thanks for warning me about more proof of why I'm a horrible fucking human being.

And the fact you don't see it yet is just proof how delusional you still are.

He's not going to let you walk, you know. [The way that soldier spoke....it screamed of betrayal imminent.]

[Is he really supposed to believe that? Bullshit.]

What do you think the bases are for? Freelancer training bases. We were at war. They would have died on the front lines anyway.

[That he is certain of. If they survived the training sims, at least they got to stay out of the actual conflict.]

I never claimed to be a good person. I know I'm not. If this is what I have to do to survive, then that's fine.

[He knows that his agreement had risks, he knows that, but...]

Don't have a lot of other options. I'm not going back to prison.

That's actually been a question for a long time. Why did we have simulation troopers in Freelancer. What were they for. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. [Just...so bitter about it.]

I'm not saying anything about being a good person. I'm perfectly aware we're not.

But there's a difference between being a survivor and a monster. Take a guess what road you're speeding down.

No point training us in situations with no risk. Live fire situations, real injuries. Real risk. [That was part of how they'd whittled down their numbers after all.]

Then I'm a monster. [He draws himself up.] If that's what i have to be, I will. I don't need this moralistic bullshit.

Yes, because clearly, Project Freelancer was great at figuring out what risks to take.

It's not bullshit. [Snaps.] Because in the end, at your core, you're David, who wanted to help save humanity from the aliens and believed people could overcome anything if they just worked together, and everytime you forget that, you end up miserable!

Don't call me that. [It comes out in a snarl.] I have a name. Washington. Use it. [There is no-one left who gets to call him David.]

I enlisted because it was the only way to get the hell off that pit of a colony. And if I've discovered anything, it's that I'm better on my own than I ever was as part of a time. In the end, people will just use you and then leave you for dead.

Happiness is no good to me if I'm dead.

For fuck's sake...does Aoko have to put up with this from me? I should get her a cake, because this is ridiculous.

You're lying to yourself. Literally and figuratively at this point. Jesus Christ, you could be so much better than this, but you just want to be bitter and angry and that isn't going to help you.

It never helps.

If I couldn't trust people who I thought were my friends, my team, then I'm sure as hell not putting my trust in anyone else. And that definitely includes you.

[Because obviously this person is at best, insane, and at worst, actively trying to fuck him over.]

I tried teams. I tried working with other people, being a good person. It did nothing but get my head fucked with and have me abandoned by anyone I thought might care.

Honestly, I would be surprised if you did, even if you did believe me.

Being a good person, trusting your team, none of that fucked you over.

What fucked you over was no one questioning what they were doing. Carolina wouldn't question her father, others got caught up in the competition, more were just blind.

But you? [He laughs, bitter, and tired.]

Oh, you had to be a good little soldier who wanted to believe the person in charge had everyone's best interests in mind. Just follow orders, it'll work out. And yet here you are, following questionable orders again, and expecting it to change things.

They fucked me over. They left me there! [There's a harsh note to his voice, angry and hurt and pained.] They went after Alpha, sure, but me? No, I'm not valuable enough, not good enough, leave him there to be locked up and drugged and interrogated for months.

[They hadn't even tried.]

I didn't have a choice. It was the Project or court-martial. Get locked up and kicked out of the only thing I'd ever been any good at.

[He sighs and rolls his eyes, crossing his arms.]

[He knows he's being provocative. He knows this might end up in a fight. Maybe part of him wants it to be a fight. No, not maybe, he knows he's got some issues. But it's just...frustrating. He knows this part exists in him. He knows, and he hates it, hate how lost he was, how far he fell, how badly he could do alone.]

[It was amazing how much difference having people stick by him made.]

Just because you joined the Project doesn't mean you had to follow without questioning. I know we're not stupid. There were enough hints something wasn't right, but we wanted to think it was on the up and up.

Yes, they left you. Yes, it sucks. But you also know that it wasn't just the AIs who were broken. We were all experiments, all being broken down. Wedge after wedge was forced between us.

They. Isolated. Everyone.

Broken people aren't evidence, because they needed to be fixed before they could help anyone else.

[Even if part of him knows that's true; they'd all been screwed over. They'd all been broken, messed up human beings. Doesn't mean he doesn't still feel the sting of betrayal, like he'd been an acceptable sacrifice to them. Something easily left behind because everything else was more valuable.]

York sure as hell seemed comfy enough working with Tex. And North went after him and South. But sure, they were isolated. They definitely went ahead to try to help Alpha. But not me.

So fuck this. I don't care. I have a mission and I will complete it. And then I'm leaving and forgetting the project ever happened.

Working with and coming back for are different things. And you know about Agent Texas. [Though he can't say much more. He hasn't remembered that yet.]

You say that, but you can't stand to hear David and you insist on their name. You have to know you're deluding yourself about forgetting it.

Yeah, I know about Texas. I know she's dead, just like everyone else.

[All the Freelancers, all of the AIs. It's just him and the Meta, and the Meta isn't really Maine.]

Words. Ignore then. Who cares? I'll have a new life. Maybe I'll make up a new name too.

[He laugh, another tired, bitter laugh.] Yeah, that certainly seemed to be the case, wasn't it? But memories are a pain in the ass.

You're really putting a lot of trust in the guy who makes shady deals.

[He huffs.] Tell you what. I'll prove something weird is going on.

Shoot me. [He holds up his hands.] I won't even move. I'm sure you've been dying to.

If it's a choice between him and going back to prison because those idiots couldn't get one thing right, then yeah. I'll make whatever deals I have to.

[He's sceptical about that. And watches impassively as his double raises his arms and tells him to make the shot. After a moment though he swings his battle rifle back into position, aimed right between the eyes. At this range, stationary target, it's easy.]

Alright.

There are more choices. You're just too tired to look for them.

[He waits, standing there, hands raised, face impassive. He is watching though, if only for timing.]

[At least if he's gonna do this, might as well be dramatic.]

[He is tired, it's true. He's so exhausted, an ache that has nothing to do with injuries and everything to do with what's in his head.

He isn't going to admit that though.

He takes aim, squeezes the trigger.

At the last moment drops his aim so it hits the ground at the feet of the other man.]

You're going to get yourself killed. But you're not worth it right now.

[He doesn't even flinch. Then again, he saw the shift, knew the bullet wouldn't hit, but then again, he didn't need it to hit, he just needed it fired.]

[The bullet never hits the ground. Instead it hits a cream colored wall of light that's projected around Puma.]

Well, that's not as dramatic, but I suppose it still makes my point.

I will probably get myself killed one day. But I'm going to give whoever does it one hell of a time of it. [He's kneeling on the ground, making sure his hands are still obvious, as he gathers up a handful of snow at his feet.]

I don't remember the state of our teleportation technology, everything else has to be cast on someone and I know you're not going to like that. But shields? I don't know how bulky the components have to be or if armor is required, but I do know they're all both ways. No way in, no way out.

[Then he tosses the handful of snow towards the cream colored wall. And the snow passes through to hit the ground outside.] Kyriakos magic is more forgiving.

Fuck.

[Wash takes a step back, raising his weapon again. Where the hell did he get a shield?]

You've got an AI.

[That's the only explanation. He shouldn't be able to use a shield without one. They all knew how that had turned out.]

Magic. You really expect me to believe that?

[His face just...shuts down a bit.] I do not. Have. An AI. [Despite the fact one has a crush on him and would love to poke around his head. :|]

[He unbuttons the collar of his jacket and yanks it down, turning enough to show off the very empty port on the back of his neck. And the scars from old, desperate attempts to claw it out. Plus newer scars from another attempt a few weeks ago.]

[He turns to face Wash properly after a few seconds.] I don't like people being in my head. I'm not going to let another AI in my head unless there was no alternative.

And it does more than let me attack. [Oh hey, a second shield has appeared around Wash. Two shields at once!] My new job is partially to protect people. The magic at our disposal to made to protect us and others.

I can do teleportation, paralysis, knocking people out, a few other things.

Healing.

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